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#i once spent an hour and a half listening to it back to back with izaya in mind and cried and shitted in hallus dms the whole time
slavhew · 14 days
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coughing and hacking
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Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave /
...well, better than the alternative /
Outliars and Hyppocrates: a fun fact about apples /
Love, Me Normally
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ellemj · 5 months
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Making Sure: 12 Days of Smut #3 - Sex Pollen
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: Bucky is exposed to a sex pollen while the two of you are snowed in, stuck in a cabin in the Swiss Alps after finishing up a mission. Oh, and of course, you happen to be his ex-girlfriend.
Warnings: profanity, dubcon (sex pollen), possessive!Bucky, breeding kink, unprotected sex, mutual pining of sorts, some use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 4k
A/N: My laptop decided it didn't want to turn on today, and then when it finally turned on it didn't want to run any apps so 12 Days of Smut almost became 11 Days of Smut. But anyway, let me know if you guys like this one! For once, it doesn't involve anyone hating anyone or an obscene amount of unbearable tension (which I severely miss).
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            It’s not all that hard to work with your ex, not when you ended on decent terms. Well, as decent as they could have been. When Bucky broke up with you three months ago, it wasn’t completely out of the blue. You hadn’t been having any problems, you never had any fights, but you knew he was never as into the relationship as you were. He had said from the very beginning that he didn’t think he ever wanted a lifelong commitment. The majority of his life had been spent without having true freedom to make his own decisions. It’s safe to say the man only had about six years of making decisions for himself, between turning eighteen and joining the army. Then the army had a say in everything he did until he was taken by HYDRA. HYDRA controlled him for so long, and honestly, they still have some form of control over him if you consider his nightmares and insomnia issues. So, when things started to feel a little too serious between you two, when Bucky started to realize that he actually loved you, that’s when he called it off.
            You’d both agreed to keep the relationship between yourselves, remaining professional at work and around the others. Even Sam had never figured it out. Bucky was so good at keeping it hidden, staying completely stoic unless he was positive you were both alone. When things ended between you two, he became stoic all the time. There have been a few times where you’ve felt a bit angry with how easily he can just shut himself off and pretend like you never had anything between you. You think you might’ve been in love with him. How can you be stoic around him when you loved him? You can’t be. So, instead of being stoic, you’re just a little more quiet than usual. You get your job done, you speak to him as professionally as you can, and then you get away from him.
            Unfortunately though, there’s no getting away from him tonight. Technically, your mission is already over. You broke into HYDRA’s only remaining functional lab, you stole at least one sample of each of the various compounds that they were working on, and then you got the hell out of there. You made it all the way back to the safehouse, a small rustic cabin a little ways up in the Swiss Alps. It had been snowing for the last twenty-four hours that you’d been here, but the winter weather came to a head to today on your drive back from the break-in. By the time you got all of the samples safely inside the cabin, there was no way either of you could make the drive back down the mountain to reach the quinjet. You’re stuck here for the night.
            “I want them kept at a pretty low temperature overnight, well below thirty degrees.” Bruce has been watching you over a video call as you’ve been cataloging the samples and packing them safely into a padded case. “It’d probably be best to leave them all in the trunk of the car, since it’s so cold out there.” Bucky’s sitting in the living area while you’re working at the kitchen table, but he’s still listening in. He’s listened for the last half hour as you labeled the samples and hummed a little Christmas tune to yourself. Truthfully, he almost forgot that Christmas is in a few days until he heard you humming that song that you love so much. What was it? He can never remember the name, but he recognizes it from last Christmas. You sang it often and he was lucky enough to still be yours then, to still get the privilege of listening to you flit around the tower so festively, infecting everyone around with your cheerful spirit.
            “They all fit in the case except for one, but it should be fine. I’ll just stick it in the trunk next to the case and slip it into my bag tomorrow before we drive out.” You say, holding up the thin glass flask containing a very watery, clear liquid. It looks the least terrifying, out of all of the chemicals you retrieved from the lab today.
            “Good work today, we’ll see you guys back here tomorrow, if the weather permits.” Bruce gives a little wave before ending the video call. Just as you’re closing the heavy black case of samples, Bucky rises from his seat on the couch and joins you in the kitchen.
            “I’ll take them out.” He offers, staying a few feet away from you but at least making eye contact with you. He doesn’t seem to look at you very often since you broke up, but you can’t complain about it. It makes it a little easier to get over him when you’re not drowning in his blue eyes. You give him a curt nod before sliding the case across the table and then setting the sealed flask of clear liquid on top of it.
            “Try not to jostle them around too much, carry it with two hands.”
            “Got it, two hands.” Bucky repeats. You watch as he lifts the case, leaving the glass flask resting on the lid. You think about carrying the lone chemical out there in your own hands, worrying that Bucky might tip the case a little too far and let the flask fall to the ground outside, but you brush off the worry. He’s never been clumsy, and he sure as hell hasn’t ever been careless. It’ll be fine. It’s just a short walk from the front door to the back of the car.
            In retrospect, you should’ve listened to your instincts.
            When Bucky rushes in the front door only a minute after he’s stepped outside with the chemicals, a sickening feeling settles deep in your stomach. You quickly turn to the source of commotion as he slams the door shut behind him and starts nearly jogging across the cabin, heading straight for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
            “Bucky? What happened?” You call out, your feet carrying you down the hall after him. Bucky strips off his coat, dropping it on the floor in the hall before throwing the bathroom door open and ripping off his shirt. He doesn’t even close the bathroom door. You step over his coat and come to a stop in the doorway as he leans down and turns on the shower.
            “Stay back.” He warns, giving you a sideways glance that makes your stomach flip. “I slipped on a patch of ice and the little glass thing on top of the case fell and shattered. Whatever was in it evaporated quick, but I inhaled a lot of it. I don’t know if I got any on me.”
            Shit. This is not good. Bucky starts unbuckling his belt, but stops himself after he gets it undone, finally turning and looking you straight in the eye. Right. You’re not together anymore.
            “Only rinse, don’t use soap. We don’t know what the chemical was or what might interact with it.” You say, forcing your voice to sound calmer than you feel. Bucky nods, and then shuts the door between the two of you. Shit. You knew you should’ve carried that damn flask yourself.
---
            Half an hour later, after Bucky’s finished showering and is resting on the couch per yours and Bruce’s orders, he begins to feel something. He wanted to go to bed, just sleep it off and see how he felt in the morning, but you and Bruce insisted that he stay in the living room and awake so you could monitor him for any weird signs or symptoms. You miss the first few symptoms that Bucky begins to feel. First, his heart rate began picking up. It was so miniscule at first that even he didn’t notice it, but it increased more and more until he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then, even in the chilly little cabin with a near-blizzard raging outside, Bucky began to feel hot. Hot to the point of wanting to take off everything he was wearing and go lay in the snow. Now he sits on the couch, breathing a little quicker than he was earlier, with beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. It’s his increased respiratory rate that you notice first. Then, as you begin looking him over from your far away seat at the kitchen table, you see the way his cheeks are flushed and the way his dark gray t-shirt is beginning to stick to the sweat coming off of his back. Shit. Whatever it was that he was exposed to, it sure as hell wasn’t nothing.
            You’re just about to ask Bucky what he’s feeling when he abruptly stands from the couch and looks right at you, his gaze wild and pupils blown.
            “Bucky—” You start, but he cuts you off in an instant.
            “I don’t know what was in that flask, but I’ll be fine. I’m not going to sit out here all night.” Bucky’s trying to play it off. He has no fucking idea if he’ll actually be fine, but the newest physiological response his body is having to the chemical isn’t one he wants you to become aware of. He’s aroused. His cock is harder than it’s ever been, and he’d rather sleep outside on the icy road and get run over by Santa’s fucking sleigh then stay this close to you. He worries he won’t be able to control himself if he has to look at you one more time tonight, if he even hears another breath leave your lips, he’ll be done for.  
            “Bucky, tell me what you’re feeling.” You say softly, pushing your chair away from the table and standing, but not daring to move any closer to where he stands in the living room. He scrunches his eyes closed and presses his vibranium hand to the back of his neck in an attempt to cool the skin there.
            “Y/n, I’m going to bed.” He sounds so frustrated. It’s a tone of voice you actually recognize. This is how he used to sound when you’d tease him at the worst times, when you were somewhere that restricted him from being able to touch you, to fuck you.
            “Is it what I think it is?” You ask, your voice impossibly quieter than before. Bucky’s eyes snap open now and he studies you. Looking at you makes his dick throb and his balls feel so fucking full and heavy. He closes his eyes again as quickly as he opened them and then, you’re sure. It was a fucking sex pollen.
            You don’t dare make a move to stop Bucky when he hurries down the hall and locks himself in his bedroom. You stand frozen in the kitchen for the next two minutes, trying to figure out what the hell you should be doing in a situation like this. You end up doing what you do best: researching. You sit yourself right back down at the table and open your laptop, quickly accessing the online archive of SHIELD research files. You type in every word you can possibly think of to find what you need. Luckily, the first article that pops up is exactly what you needed.
            You skim through it at lightning speed, your eyes picking up on the important details. Heightened senses, increases sexual drive ten-fold, may result in permanent disability or death if state of intense arousal is not rectified. Shit, this is bad. You’re wondering how the hell one is supposed to rectify the intense arousal when your eyes land on the most key piece of information in the entire article. Human trials have revealed that allowed the specimen to engage in sexual intercourse is the only successful way to return to a normotensive physiological state.
            You have to fuck. You have to convince him to have sex with you. You have to convince the man who broke up with you three months ago to have sex with you. You’ve suddenly decided that you fucking hate your job.
            However, you’re not going to sit around while Bucky becomes permanently disabled or lets himself die of exposure to a damn HYDRA sex pollen. So, you slam your laptop shut and march right down the hall. You tap your knuckles against his bedroom door three times, until you hear the bed creak slightly, so you at least know he’s alive. He doesn’t make a single move to answer the door. He’s sitting on the side of the bed, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress so hard that it’ll probably never spring back into shape. His sense of hearing is heightened so much that he can hear every breath you take. He thinks he can even hear the sound of your eyelashes fluttering as you blink.
            “Bucky, I did some research.” God, just the sound of your voice might be enough to make him cum in his sweats. Bucky bites his bottom lip and looks down at where his erection is fighting to escape the confines of his sweats. “If this is a sex pollen, which I think we both know it is, it can kill you. The only way to fix this is to…” Your voice trails off, but you don’t have to finish your sentence for Bucky to know what the solution is here. But he won’t ask that of you. He refuses to ask you to sleep with him. He knows he broke your heart three months ago, and he’d be the world’s biggest asshole if he used you for relief now. So, he stays silent. “We could…”
            You can’t seem to finish any of your sentences. Why is it so hard for you to say we could fuck. Oh, right. Because you’ve missed the way he fucks for months. Because you know that if he wasn’t under the influence of this chemical right now, he sure as hell wouldn’t be turned on around you. You’d happily have sex with him right now, but he’d only be doing it because he has to do it to survive.
            “I know I’m probably the last person that you’d want to be offering this, but I’m offering. I don’t want you to sit in there and die.” You say softly, your voice cracking a little bit on the final word. The last person he’d want to be offering this? Fuck, you have no idea how he really feels, do you? Bucky screws his eyes shut and fights back the urge to throw the door open and tell you how much he fucking loves you, how much he’s missed you. It’s why he broke up with you in the first place. What if something happened one day that turned him right back into the Winter Soldier? What if he ended up on ice again and by the time he came out of cryo, you were dead and gone? He had to break up with you, because he felt like his future was always too unclear to promise it to someone.
            “I’m here, Bucky, if you need me.” You whisper, with your forehead pressed against the cool wood of the door. He can tell that you’re hurting for him. It’s why, against his rational mind, he finds himself crossing the room and tugging the door open. When he sees you standing there in the light of the hallway, he can hear that little Christmas tune that you love so much playing in his head. Fuck it.
            You’ve barely had a second to realize that Bucky’s just opened the door for you before you feel his hand fist in your hair and he yanks you forward against his chest. His mouth captures yours in a heated kiss. Bucky sucks your bottom lip between his and wastes no time in using his hold on your hair to tilt your head to the side and slide his tongue into your mouth. You act on muscle memory, kissing him the same way you used to every single day. You let his tongue dance around your mouth, but when he begins to pull back you suck on it lightly, earning a groan from him. He tastes just like you remember, and suddenly you want him so badly that for all you know you could have some sex pollen coursing through your veins.
            “The last person I’d want to be offering this?” Bucky rasps against your lips, briefly looking into your eyes as he repeats your words in question. “You’re the only person I’d want to be offering this.” He pulls on your hair again, tilting your head further to the side and sucking on the skin right below your ear. Your eyes close as you try to calm your racing heart, reminding yourself that as perfect as this might feel right now, it won’t last.
            It takes mere seconds for Bucky to pull you into his room and practically throw you onto his bed. When he crawls over you a second later, it’s like he’s suddenly realized you both still have your clothes on. He stands back up beside the bed and strips quickly, exposing every bit of his fucking heavenly body to you. You don’t even try to choke back the whimper that leaves your lips. Bucky freezes when he hears it. He’s heard it before. He’s heard it in his dreams, ever since you broke up. It’s sort of funny. He never had dreams before, only nightmares. Until he broke up with you, and then he started having dreams about you every night. They’ve replaced nearly every nightmare. Instead of HYDRA being the reason he’s up at night, it’s all you.
            You start shimmying out of your pants right there on the bed as you look at Bucky, too impatient to stand up and take everything off like he did. He strokes his cock slowly in one hand, but every time his palm glides over the tip he makes a face like he’s in pain. You know from your brief research that touching himself won’t give him an ounce of relief, it’ll only make things worse. So, once you have your pants off, you reach up and grab his wrist, stopping his stroking, and pulling him closer to the bed. He gets the hint and positions himself on top of you again, spreading your legs apart with his knee before settling between them.
            “I’ve missed you.” Bucky coos against the side of your neck, right as you feel the head of his cock brushing against your clit through your already soaked panties. He didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t want to make the break up any harder for you, but fuck. He’s missed having you under him like this, though in the past you never kept your panties and shirt on when you were under him.
            “I’ve been right here.” You respond quietly, letting your hands coast down his sides until you feel the way his back muscles are rigid underneath your palms. He’s restraining himself. “Bucky, you don’t have to hold back.” He sighs deeply and grinds his cock against you, hard. It draws a moan from your lips that’s so needy, Bucky can’t wait any longer. He knows he’s only waited a minute at this point, but he just can’t anymore. He reaches down between the two of you and snags a finger in your panties, deftly pulling them to the side and guiding his cock straight into you without warning. The cry that escapes you isn’t one of pain or surprise, it’s one of pure lust. It might’ve been three months since the last time you had sex, but your body accepts his cock like it never left. There’s no pain, there’s only pleasure as he starts fucking into you slowly. He builds the pace up in mere seconds, speeding up more and more until he’s fucking you so hard and fast that the headboard is snapping against the wall and scratching the paint.
            “God, you’re still so fucking tight for me.” He groans, burying himself balls deep inside you. He stays still for a moment, letting your pussy grip his cock like a vice.
            “It’s still yours.” You whisper the words against his jawline. When his eyes snap open and stare straight into yours, you know you probably shouldn’t have said it. His pupils are already overly dilated, but they expand a little more as possessiveness flares in his chest. He always loved when you let him know who your pussy belonged to. He fucking loved it.
            Wait. The realization hits you both at the same time. He isn’t wearing a condom. As he looks into your eyes, his face falls and your eyes widen. He never once fucked you without a condom on. It was part of his whole no-long-term-commitment thing. He didn’t want to risk an unintentional pregnancy, so he never let himself fuck you raw. When he starts to pull out, you’re quick to wrap your legs around him and lock him in place.
            “Don’t.” You plead. You want this. You’ve always wanted this. Bucky bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, trying to find a single rational thought in his mind. He knows he shouldn’t do this, he knows he should pull out and find a fucking condom. But will he?
             The answer is no. He uses what little space you give him between your legs to start thrusting into you again, slower this time, but still every bit as deep as before.
            “If you don’t let me pull out…” He starts, but you pull his face down to yours and silence him with a kiss. After a few seconds, he picks up his pace and begins fucking you relentlessly once again, further ruining the paintjob on the bedroom wall behind the headboard.
            “I always wanted you to fuck me like this.” You sigh against his lips. You feel Bucky’s entire body tense up as he nears his release, your words egging him on.
            “Oh, baby, I always wanted to fuck you like this.” He admits, snapping his hips into yours and getting you that much closer to the edge. As your orgasm threatens to tear through you, something weighs heavy on Bucky’s mind. He wants to cum inside you. He loves you but he’s always told himself he can’t have you, because his future is so unclear, he can’t make promises to you and possibly break them. But…he’s a good guy. If he were to knock you up, he’d do the right thing. The traditional thing. He’d marry you and take such good care of you, of the little family you’d have together. Maybe that’s what he should do. He thinks that maybe if he gets you pregnant right now, it would force him to give you his future, no matter how much it scares him. He’d be so much more concerned with doing the right thing in the present, rather than worrying about what might happen in the future. “Let me cum inside you.”
            “You can, Bucky. You can cum inside me.” You moan out, locking your ankles together behind him and pulling him harder against you. He groans and presses another kiss to your lips, but a gentler one this time.
            “You’ll have a baby for me.” He doesn’t even phrase it as a question, no, he’s telling you what you’ll do. “You’ll let me get you pregnant, and then you’ll be mine.”
            “Fuck…” The curse falls from your lips as bliss surges through you. You can’t even find the words to say what you want to say, which is fuck yes. So, you lay there submissively, with your legs wrapped around him as he fucks every drop of cum that he has into you. Then, you catch your breath while he pulls his cock out of you and slides your panties back over your sore cunt. You even let him pile the pillows beneath your hips and legs, elevating your pelvis to make sure his cum won’t drip back out of you.
            Fuck. He really wants to make sure you’re pregnant after this.
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PLEASE! I BEG THAT YOU WRITE AN MIGUEL O’HARA FICTION! IM BEGGING!! PLEASEE!!!! (Sorry if I come off harsh)
Ask and you shall receive!! A quick thing I wrote (not proofread), thanks for the ask <3
Touch
Miguel O'Hara x reader
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(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist
summary: Miguel misbehaves. You teach him a lesson. part one maybe?? idk y'all let me know if u want a pt 2. (Part 2 is out!)
warnings: pwp!! light f-dom, angry (ish??) sex, grinding, slight m-sub, (m) begging. mostly just filth. I am soooo desperate for any character played by Oscar Isaac. 18+ Minors DNI
a/n: I apologise in advance, native Spanish speakers. Me and reverso tried our best. 
wc: 1.4k
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A great crash from the workshop has you running from all the way in the kitchen, apron still on. 
He looks tired, hunched over his desk. Great hulking shoulders hang, tense in the dim light of a single lamp.
"Miguel?" It's soft, in the metallic hum of lights. "Everything okay?" 
He shifts, looking over his shoulder at you. "M'sorry for the noise mi sol, just tired." 
"...maybe it's time to call it a night, baby."
He waves you off with a flick of the wrist.   "Give me ten minutes, I'll come to bed."
"That's what you said half an hour ago, Miggy." It's under your breath but loud enough that his super senses pick it up.Your voice is fraught, frustrated - no doubt at the nights he'd spent away from you. Whether coming back late from tinkering in his workshop, or on the streets; he'd meet you fast asleep in bed, and wake up to an early morning rush. Either way, he seemed like a stranger in your own home; consumed with his work. It was taking its toll. 
You pad back, returning to the kitchen in silence. You clean up the remnants of a dinner Miguel had picked at, sighing. You loved him, and you knew he loved you; but he lived in his own world sometimes. Sure, the world needed him; but what about you? After everything you had given each other, how could he discard you so easily? 
It's only after a while Miguel realises the noises of you clearing up have long subsided, that he heads into the kitchen to investigate. It's meticulously clean, your apron hanging up on its peg by the door. On the counter, the remainder of his dinner boxed up in tupperware, with a post-it-note on the lid. 'For Miggy <;3' , it reads. 
His heart aches as he walks towards your room. You're dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, knees drawn and curled up into yourself. He slides into bed, staring up at the ceiling. 
"Mi vida?" He mumbles. "Mi vida, I know you're awake." 
You respond with an unceremonious grunt, back still turned. You're mad at him, and he deserves it. 
"I'm sorry." He says, listening to the rise and fall of your chest in the dark. He sits up. Sighing, he cradles your arm, tracing circles into the flesh. Gentle, and oh so soft. "I'm an idiot, you know that. I fucked up. Couldn't see how much you were hurting."
You stir, turning to face him. In the neon lights that stream into your room, his face falls. He brings a hesitant hand to cup at your cheek. 
"Say something. Please." Imperciptably, he watches your eyes fall to his lips. 
You kiss him, passionate and hot and angry. He can barely breathe when you envelope your plush lips around his, snaking your hand towards his back. You claw at his shirt, raking a hand into his hair. When you separate, it's obscene; a sliver of saliva still connecting his lips to yours. His scarlet eyes are low as he licks his lips; chasing your taste. You both sit up. 
"You haven't touched me in weeks, Miguel." Your voice is dangerously low, hand wrapped around his neck.
He wraps strong hands around your waist, guiding you to straddle him. For once, he's grateful for the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt - thin around the apex of your pebbled nipples. He paws at your hips, hands trailing towards your bare thighs. Just as they come to rest towards their crook, you snatch his hands away. 
"Let me make it up to you," He hisses at the contact, leaning into your touch. "Por favor, sólo una probadita, just a taste, my love."
"No touching." Dramatic, he protests, cursing in Spanish before you bring a thumb to his mouth to silence him. 
"No. Touching."
Eyes lidded, looking up at you, it takes everything not to break; you fight the urge to kiss the tip of his nose and whisper praise into the crook of his neck. Instead, you coax your thumb into his mouth; as he swirls his tongue around it, like he would on your clit. Miguel savors it like the sweetest honey, grateful you'll even touch him considering how he's been acting. 
He swells in his pants, hard as the crotch of his sweats graze your bare pussy. Beautiful tits pressed against his chest,  you draw small circles with your waist against the seat of his crotch. Precum spills as his hips jump up to meet you, desperate for contact. 
Immediately, you stop. With a pop, you pull your thumb from his mouth and Miguel moans at the loss. 
"Mierda. Baby, please-"
"No. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to use you to get off. You're gonna watch, if you're lucky. And then I'm…" You swirl your hips, causing him to groan. "... going to bed." 
"¿Entiendes?" You croon, spiteful in the slow sway of your hips. "Do you understand, Miguel?" 
"-f-fuck, ok, ok-" Desperately nodding, he grips the sheets by his side. Closing his eyes to steady himself, he slumps his head on your shoulder. God, he's trying so, so hard not to cum right there; turned on by the lull of your sweet voice. He likes it when you get angry and treat him like a toy - painfully hard at the way you light him on fire. Everything about you; your scent, the way you taste, the grip you have in his hair; turns his senses up to eleven. 
You grind on his crotch, steadying yourself with your other hand on his shoulder. Plush lip tucked under your teeth, it takes all his willpower not to capture you in another kiss: hungry and consuming and overpowering. He can tell you're serious; everytime he grinds his crotch into yours, you will yourself to stop and tighten your grip. 
"Miguel…" You warn, moaning softly into his ear. "I m-meant what I said…"
When his hips snap up the third time; you growl, frustrated. Both your hands move to his chest, pushing him down onto the mattress so he's on his back. He looks good like this; at your mercy and putty under your hands. You push up the lip of his shirt to expose his midsection and pull down his sweats. A happy trail snakes down to his neatly trimmed cock; its deliciously curved tip springing free. Precum covers his cock, so when you slide him between the lips of your pussy it glides like he was made for you. You bite down on your lip so hard, it almost bleeds. 
With this new angle, you plant your hands by his head; grinding your clit onto his dick desperately. The slick sounds drive Miguel crazy, and when his hands fly to your waist to help you along, you don't move them. 
"You're s-so pretty, mi vida… prettiest thing I've ever seen. Need it. Need you. Use me, please, hump my cock like I'm your toy, p-please, please…"
He knows your body better than you do. You're close, dangerously near the edge. With the way your thigh shakes and the spasms that slow your rhythm, he knows. You don't break eye contact with him under you, moaning as you slide on his cock. Desperate, you chase that sweet spot, electric when he angles your hips just so… 
"M'gonna cum, fuck, Miggy-" You writhe desperately. He's close, too, shamelessly humping your pussy like a feral animal. He can taste it; white hot at the tip of his tongue. Finally, you cum: a leg shaking, biting orgasm that rips through you. You clench around nothing, but it's not enough for him. So, so close; and it's ripped away from him when you come down, in the aftermath. 
Unceremoniously, you pant and roll off of him; spread-eagle atop the sheets. Miggy curses softly at his ruined orgasm - still rock hard. He's glad you feel good, but he knows he can make you feel better, broad hands pawing at your hips. You slap them off, and turn your back pointedly. The slope and curve of your ass taunts him. 
"Fuck off, Miguel."
"Baby, I'm sor-" 
"Fuck. Off."
Sighing, he takes the hint. Grabbing the pillow, he pads off to the sofa in your living room, adjusting his hard on. He'd give you your space, tonight, and begin to win you back tomorrow morning. He needs you, more than you'd ever know. 
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dxckgrxsonx · 1 year
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hello, random Jason thot i feel like i need to share:
he is the type to ask for sexual related stuff very casually in the most unexpected moments — “hey do you have a second for me to bend you over and use your holes?” “c’mere so i can hit you from the back real quick” “babe, do you like how my cum tastes?” “you mind if i fuck you in your sleep tonight?” “you want me to go raw next time we do doggie?” while you are making toast in the middle of the day or doing the dishes like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
that's it, that's my thot. thanks.
Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader Words - 1.2k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Porn no Plot - Unprotected Sex -Shower Sex - Kitchen Sex - Dirty Talk - Jason 'no verbal filter' Todd - Swearing - Fluff. Notes - i think you should share more thots with me 😉 i will listen to whatever you have to say. also, the idea of Jason fucking you in your sleep???? hOT. I’ll be writing that at some point.
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MASTERLIST
**
He asks you questions at the most random times.
You think his brain doesn’t have an off switch. Thoughts constantly whirling around on a washing machine spin cycle. Each one thunking against the sides until he tugs open the door and spits out the first thing to fall at his feet.
Last week, he asked you through a mouthful of food what word you would use to describe The Red Hood.
Apparently, ‘hot’, was entirely the correct answer and he’d spent the rest of the meal insufferably pleased with himself until you’d laughed and kicked him under the table.
The week before that, he woke you up in the middle of the night and asked you, half asleep, if you would still love him if he was a worm. In response, you’d rolled over to hug him close and mumbled, “Mmm-hm. I’d love you no matter what.”
And when you woke up that next morning, it was with Jason smudging kisses across your chest. Right over your heart. You didn’t recall the conversation but he did and it must have meant something to him because he didn’t leave your side for hours.
But this time, he pokes his head out of the shower whilst you’re brushing your teeth and casually asks, “You mind joining me in here? It’s been a while since we’ve had shower sex and i’m real fuckin’ hard.”
Surprise sparks like a blown electric fuse and your toothbrush clatters into the sink whilst you choke on a mouthful of toothpaste, “Jason!” You sputter, staring at him through the mirror and feeling heat scathe up your neck. “What the hell?”
Grabbing your arm, he says nothing and tugs you into the shower cubicle, places you directly under the almost scalding spray of water and cracks a smile when you swat at his chest. Instantly, your pyjamas turn see through and Jason whistles appreciatively, mouth hooking up in a devilish smirk.
“Now there’s a pretty sight.” He says, giving you a heated once over.
Your nipples poke against your shirt and Jason wastes no time in rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive peaks until you sigh softly. He dips his fingers under the hem of your pyjama top and smooths his warm palms up over your breasts to remove it.
Shuffling you backwards until you press against the cold tile wall you hiss through your teeth, “You’re a bastard, Todd.”
Ducking his head to kiss and bite at your neck Jason chuckles, voice lowering to a challenging drawl, “Call me Todd again, sweetheart. I dare you.”
Dragging your open palm over his cock you turn your head and kiss him slowly, deeply. You lick into Jason’s mouth and feel him throb in your hand. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip you tug until he growls.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Todd. Did that hurt?”
Jason grabs at your thighs, yanks your shorts down your legs with the efficiency of someone not leaking precum all over your fingers. Slotting his hands under your thighs he picks you up, forces your legs around his thick waist. His cock presses hot and heavy against your pussy and you feel yourself drool over the fat, flushed head.
“You’re really in for it now, baby.” He says, eyes alight. “You thought I was a bastard before. Things are about to get a hell of a lot worse for you now.”
You smile, thoroughly amused, “Promises. Promises.”
**
Slotting two slices of bread into the toaster you reach for your phone sitting on the kitchen counter.
Jason approaches you silently and you wonder, not for the first time, how someone with so much mass can move so quietly. You don’t catch his presence until he’s within arms reach and you think that if you were a criminal, you’d be as good as unconscious.
Slipping his arms around your waist he nuzzles into your back, moves to rest his chin on your shoulder, “Whatcha watchin’?”
Turning the screen so he can see the video, you feel him laugh when you say, “Cat fail videos.”
Reaching silently for your phone he locks the screen and places it facedown on the counter. Turning in the strong cage of his arms you walk your fingers over his chest and up to his shoulders. Humming quietly in the back of your throat you sweep a flyaway strand of hair from his eyes.
“Can I help you?” You ask.
“Do you have a second for me to bend you over the kitchen counter? Wanna fill you up.”
“Wow.” You snigger, half amused, half aroused. “You’re not one for subtlety, huh?”
Spinning you around, Jason presses your hips into the counter and quickly unbuttons your jeans to slide them down to your ankles with your underwear. He shuffles around behind you and you hear him drag the zipper down on his pants.
“Jus’ like the thought of you dripping with my come.” He answers, and you feel your clit swell. A touch of his Gotham accent colours his words. “You’re not going to deny me that, are you?”
Kicking one foot free of your jeans you hook your knee over the lip of the counter, spread your puffy pussy open for Jason to see how wet you are. Your arousal leaks from your entrance and Jason drags his fingers through the wetness before wiping it over the head of his cock.
“If I end up burning my toast I’m not going to be happy.” You say.
Pressing the fat head of his cock to your clenching hole Jason pushes forwards, groans deeply when your walls yield around him and squeeze at his thick girth. Bracing one hand on your waist, Jason rocks his hips, stuffs himself into your pussy inch by inch until he bottoms out.
“You were made for taking my cock, sweetheart.” Jason moans, snapping his hips up. Hooking his thumbs under the swell of your ass he spreads you open so he can watch his cock sink into you. “Fuckin’ Christ, can feel you squeezin’ at me, baby. S’almost like I didn’t fuck you yesterday.”
Whimpering out his name you try to reach for the toaster, worried that it’s going to burn.
“I don’t give a fuck about your toast.” Jason growls, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back. “I’ll make you breakfast myself when I’m finished.”
**
Sat on the sofa you tug your fingers through Jason’s hair.
His head rests in your lap, legs thrown over the arm of your sofa so you can both fit somewhat comfortably. The TV drones in the background, a movie playing that you’ve quickly lost interest in. You’ve found that your attention settles on Jason, on the stubborn knots in his hair and the warmth of him resting on your thighs.
“Comfy?” You ask, just to make sure.
Humming softly he glances up at you, and when your eyes meet he smiles, “You’re beautiful.”
Emotion drags itself up your throat and you stroke his cheek tenderly, lovingly. You open your mouth to speak but there’s a lump in your throat and you quickly realise that you don’t even know what to say. Vaguely, you recognise that Jason hasn’t taken his eyes off you.
Opening your mouth to try again Jason beats you to it, “I know, baby. Y’don’t have to say it. I know.”
Rubbing the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip, Jason presses a soft kiss there.
“Hey, you mind if I fuck you in your sleep tonight?”
Flicking his forehead you snigger, “Do you not have a verbal filter?”
Giving you an unimpressed look, his eyes glitter, “What do you think?”
**
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pedroshotwifey · 9 days
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Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷‍♀️😭
Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅
Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤
Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader
Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting
W/C: 1.9k
Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.
What Matters
“Are you sure, baby?” 
Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure. 
“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily. 
You’re both lying in his bed, half-naked. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.
Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him. 
But what if he can’t?
You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes? 
It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be. 
But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now. 
“Joel?” 
His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore. 
“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it. 
“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 
And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right. 
You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes. 
He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself. 
“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes. 
His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year. 
It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself. 
“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you. 
“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.” 
You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you? 
Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts. 
“You feel so good,” you whine. 
“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.
He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure. 
“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.
But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him. 
He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.
“I’m sorry, baby, I—” 
“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—” 
You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face. 
You love him. You said it. And he believes you. 
“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters. 
Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin. 
“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him. 
He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back. 
He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back. 
It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm. 
By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time. 
You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now. 
You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.
It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat. 
“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained. 
“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.
And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria. 
When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts. 
*****
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joelslastofus · 24 days
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[SUMMARY: Joel becomes protective of his alcoholic neighbors daughter. ]
“I am very protective of those I care for” his words lingered in the air as his eyes found yours..
PART TWO of my last story
smut TW: abuse
It had been a week since you spent the night at Joel’s house. He found himself looking out his window more often yet he hadn’t seen much of you since. Your dad continued drinking as usual but somehow you managed to avoid anything escalating.
That evening you got home and saw Joel in his driveway half way under his truck fixing something. The sight of his long legs resting on the ground caught your eye.
“Joel?” He quickly rolled out from underneath and sat up.
“How ya doin’, darlin, everything alright?”
“Yes everything’s fine, I just wanted to give you this.” You handed him a small container of cookies you made.
“Just a thank you from me, Sarah told me a while back you and her loved home made chocolate chip cookies”
“Thank you, sugar. That’s nice of ya, let’s hope she don’t finish it all in one night” he squinted from the sun with a smile.
“Oh and this is yours” you returned his t shirt and sweats in a bag.
“You could’ve kept it, I think it looked better on ya anyway” he smirked, his words making you blush.
Joel Miller was flirting with you and you had no damn clue how to respond. His flirting making you think of the way he was looking at you that night, remembering how he almost kissed you until the sound of your dad’s voice distracted you both in that moment.
“Hey! Did you get what I asked for already?” Joel’s expression quickly turning serious at the sight of your father one foot out of the front door.
“Yes, I got it. I’ll be right there!” You assured him before he realized you were beside Joel.
“Oh hi Miller,” he waved at him as Joel did a rather serious nod.
“Mick”
“I better go” you whispered as you turned away, your father walking back inside.
“Remember you call me if you anything, I’m right here” Joel called out to you before you stepped inside.
“Thank you, Joel” you smiled before closing the door behind you. Joel silently watched you enter your house, he didn’t trust your alcoholic father being alone with you, but there wasn’t much more he could do in that moment.
Walking into your house you caught yourself still smiling to yourself, you remembered laying on his couch with him. You remembered the way he looked at you…the thought of him almost kissing you… Neither of you had spoken of it, but both of you were thinking of it more than each other knew.
Sarah ran out of the house excitedly, distracting him asking if she could once again sleep over her best friends house.
“Come on dad, I’ve been keeping my grades up and doing my chores” Joel smirked knowing his daughter was right.
“How could I argue with that?” he chuckled.
“I’ll drop you off in an hour” Joel resumed working on his truck while Sarah ran inside and called her friend.
A couple hours later Joel had returned to see a car pulling up in front of your house. Sitting in his driveway he watched through his rear view mirror two men practically stumbling out of the car and another with a six pack of beer in hand. These men must’ve been those friends of your fathers you had spoken of last time. Taking it upon himself he decided to call your cell.
“Hey Joel,” you sat at your desk surprised he was even calling you.
“Hey, sorry to call late I just pulled up in front of my house and saw-“
“Oh god not again” you sighed hearing the men loudly come in through the front door. Joel could hear the discomfort in your voice as the men could be heard in the background.
“Listen, I’m here again tonight. Why don’t you stay here till they leave” Joel suggested.
“I…I don’t know. I-“ you suddenly screamed jumping up from your chair at the sound of something loudly running into your door.
“What’s the matter you alright?”
“Jesus, yeah sorry. I think one of them just ran into my door or something, scared the shit out of me.” You explained making sure your door was locked.
“I think you should stay with me for the night” Joel was now more insistent on it and you yourself didn’t think it was a bad idea.
“Ok, but I’m not telling my dad where I’m going I’m just-“
“Don’t say a thing. Just grab what you need and stay on the phone with me till you get to your door. I’m right here in the front” Joel got out of the car waiting for you to make your way out while listening clearly to make sure you wouldn’t be bothered. With relief you opened your door to see Joel hanging up his phone a few feet away from you. His eyes lighting up as soon as he saw you.
“I seriously owe you” you whispered with a sigh as you walked beside him to his door.
“Just you being safe is good enough for me darlin’” he unlocked his door letting you in. This time more prepared you bought a bag with a change of clothes which was the first thing Joel noticed.
“Didn’t wanna wear my clothes again huh?” He teased making you blush.
“I mean, they were super comfy” you responded playfully noticing the grey sweats he wore himself, what a sight it was.
Joel hadn’t felt this excitement in a long time with a woman but he was still struggling with the idea of you being so young. You were mature, you were smart but Joel had never been with a woman this much younger than him.
That night the two of you ordered Chinese and played a movie you both liked. Next door you would hear your father and his guests going in and out of the house getting more alcohol, you could see them straight from the window. Joel caught you shaking your head looking over at them before looking back at the movie.
“He always been like this?”
“He’s gotten worse” you sighed.
“He never used to bring strangers over like that and now he expects me to be welcoming to drunk men gawking at me” Joel didn’t like the sound of that. Looking up out the window he could see those very men and the way they acted. He couldn’t understand how he couldn’t take the thought of them being near you but your own father didn’t think twice of it.
A few times Joel called his daughter making sure she was ok, it was always sweet hearing him talk to Sarah. Once he hung up he caught you staring at him making you giggle.
“What?”
“I just think it’s cute all the questions you ask her, you know…to make sure she’s ok”
“It’s a must when she’s at her friends house, she knows that” he responded.
“I can tell you’re very protective of Sarah” you looked over at him as he nodded facing you.
“I am very protective of those I care for” his words lingered in the air as his eyes found yours. He meant what he said and he wanted you to know you were becoming very much included in that. He felt you deserved to have someone who could make you feel safe and he wanted to be that someone. Adjusting yourself on the couch you looked away not sure what to say.
“I think you’re very sweet, Joel… I just don’t want you getting caught up in my mess and having a problem with my dad and-“
“I’m a big boy, sweetheart” he smirked.
“I assure you I could take care of myself” you chuckled before noticing he moved more closer to you.
“I’m sure you can..” you whispered realizing he was looking at you the same way he had been the other morning when you woke up beside him. Joel was doing his best trying to fight the urges he felt, the last thing he wanted you to think was that he was trying to get his way with you. Yet, the more time he spent with you, the harder it became to ignore. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t have to. Silently leaning in closer he brushed his hand across the side of your face looking deep into your eyes before placing his lips on yours. Maybe it wasn’t smart for him to do but at that moment he didn’t care. Shocked yet excited you let him do as he pleased. His kisses were passionate, his tongue parting your lips as he kissed you deeply, his hand sliding down to your waist pulling you closer against him. The soft sound of your moan making him abruptly part his lips from you, turning his face away toward your shoulder.
“Did I do something wrong?” You asked out of breath, you reached your hand up to his face noticing how fast he was breathing. His hands still on you as he took a deep breath. Joel couldn’t remember the last time he felt this hard for a woman.
“Not a thing” he whispered low before turning back to you and kissing you like he never stopped. His body ready to jump yours, his hand brushing up your blouse squeezing one of your breast. A steamy make out session with Joel Miller wasn’t something you expected, being caressed by him in a way that you knew he had been yearning for this turned you on. You could feel how much he ached for you, you felt him unexpectedly yank down at your top hard enough where he ripped it making you gasp.
“Sorry” you could hear the genuine hint of regret in his voice, it’s like he felt like he had to be gentle with you knowing what he was capable of.
Knowing the strength he had.
Yet, that’s not what you wanted.
Tugging down at the same spot he pulled, you lowered your shirt and bra enough to reveal your breasts to him, just like he had wanted.
His hand very slowly brushing up your waist gently cupping one of your breasts as if he was appreciating every detail he could see. He wondered if you knew how much power you had over him in this very moment. His tongue sliding between his teeth before he leaned in and took your nipple in his mouth. The feeling of his tongue flicking at it made you squirm, your hands running through his thick hair as you moaned. Taking his time with each nipple before pulling you on top of him making you feel how hard he was through the thin fabric of your leggings. His eyes were hungry for you like an animal, his hands tightly on your waist as you began to grind your hips on him. You could feel the length of his hard cock through his sweats.
How badly he wanted you.
His hands grabbing your ass guiding your body on him.
“Shit, honey you’re gonna make me cum in my damn pants” his voice was husky turning you on more until the sound of his phone vibrating caught you both off guard.
“Fuck- not now dammit” he looked over to see Tommy’s name and silenced it with a push of a button.
“Nothing important?” You whispered just as another call came in.
Tommy again.
“God dammit”
“It’s ok….just answer. It could be important”
Answering a phone call was the last thing Joel wanted to do with you straddling him but Tommy never called this late.
“Yeah?” Joel picked up the phone irritated as you slowly got off his lap. Laying his head back Joel rubbed his forehead listening to what Tommy had to say. You couldn’t help but look down and notice the very pronounced shape of his cock pushing up against his sweats.
Damn Tommy, you sighed as you tried fixing your top that Joel had broken.
“God dammit, Tommy. That’s gonna have to wait till the mornin’” is all you heard Joel say. Grabbing your bag of clothes you went off to the bathroom to change into your pajamas you bought with you.
You could hear Joel arguing back and fourth with his brother as you came out before he finally hung up. Standing in the kitchen you watched as he rubbed his eyes and cursed at himself.
“Everything ok?” You asked as he made his way to you.. He stopped before you not saying a word, grabbing your waist he pulled you against him and continued to kiss you. Your arms wrapped around him, he gently pushed you up against the counter. His cock hard against your pelvis.
“Joel” you whispered brushing your hand down his chest.
“I can just go back home if there’s somewhere you-“
“No no, that won’t be happenin’” he quickly shook his head, his eyes still in a trance not leaving your lips.
“Tommy’s just gonna have to wait” he looked back up into your eyes, realizing what the hell he was doing, realizing what it looked like.
“Listen-“ he caressed your waist.
“I don’t want you thinking just cause you’re staying here that you have to do anything, I promise you I wasn’t expecting none of this” you couldn’t help but smile.
“I promise you” you wrapped your arms around him.
“I wasn’t thinking that way of you. Besides…” you unexpectedly turned around leaning over on the counter, pressing your ass against his length.
“I like what we’re doing..” you teased looking back at him as stared down at your ass mesmerized. Wearing a pink pair of shorts you began to pull them down slowly swaying your hips, Joel was at a loss for words.
Pressing your bare ass against him, you bounced yourself against his cock.
“Fuck…shit-“ Joel knew he needed you in that moment.
“I don’t wanna hurt cha-“ he spoke in a deep whisper as his hands grabbed your waist.
“You’re not” you looked back and watched as he finally gave in pulling down his sweats. Spitting on his hand he lubricated his cock and placed his tip right at your entrance. Feeling the heat of your cunt he slowly thrusted in as you both let out a simultaneous moan of relief at the first feel of each other. The girth of his cock filling up your hole, your hands flat on the counter as he took hold of your waist and began moving in a steady rhythm. He watched your ass bounce off him making him bite his bottom lip. The sounds of your moans filling up his home only encouraging him to move faster. He couldn’t believe he was actually fucking your, his pleasure overlapping any doubts.
His hand creeping up to your shoulder giving you a squeeze before he grabbed a chunk of your hair and tugged at it. You squealed as he pulled you up against him by your hair, your body molding perfectly against his. His arm wrapped around you allowing his hand to take hold of your breast. Grunting in your ear he fucked you hard and fast as you whimpered, he knew you were about to cum.
“Joel…” you cried out.
“Yeah baby I’m here” he panted holding you close. Your legs shaking as you came but you felt him hold you up and steady.
“I got cha, baby” you couldn’t respond, each wave hitting every nerve in your body down to your toes. His hands squeezing whatever he could, he knew he was about to explode.
“Shit, baby girl you feel so good..: I’m about to cum-“ his body making yours jump against his until he finished with two last hard strokes. Moaning deeply against your ear he held your body against him. The sound of a man who had wanted you for so long. You could feel him throbbing inside you before slowly slipping out. Your legs slightly shaking you held on to the counter as he threw water on his face from the sink and cleaned himself off. He turned to see you staring at him as he tied his sweat pants, silently brushing your hair behind your ear.
“You alright, baby” you nodded as he walked towards you. Pulling you in close he kissed you, almost feeling as if he still couldn’t keep his hands off you.
“You sure?” His lips brushing against your forehead as you closed your eyes wanting more yourself.
Before you knew it Joel and you were having sex in the shower. The need to feel his body against yours, to feel himself inside you was one he couldn’t escape. Never had you felt such sexual chemistry with another man before…not like this. His wet hair slick back as he stared down at you with intensity, holding your leg up rocking his hips against you. You moaned grabbing onto the wall, your hand slipping down as you tried to hold on.
“Hold on to me, sugar” he panted continuing to slam into you. Tonight was a night that neither of you wanted to end. After he finished, the two of you silently held each other in the shower, letting the hot water fall over you.
“It’s getting really late” you whispered, half a smile appearing on his lips.
“Got somewhere to go, darlin’?”
Joel couldn’t help but smile watching you sit beside him on the couch picking at your leftovers.
“This is so good” you sighed before looking up and realizing the smirk he had as he stared at you.
“What?”
“Nothing. You’re just-“ his deep eyes devouring you.
“You look beautiful” the sincerity in his voice making you feel as if you were on a cloud when you were both distracted with your father coming out of the house arguing with one of the men. The two men shoving each other making you quickly stand up.
“Oh God” you quickly grabbed your keys until Joel caught your arm pulling you back.
“Stay inside” he went on to walk past you and headed out as you watched nervously from inside.
Joel quickly ran out pulling the drunk man off your father.
“Please just leave” you whispered to yourself referring to the other men. Joel yelled out something that you couldn’t make out while motioning for them to leave. Thankfully they backed away as Joel got your father on his feet, a bloody nose and black eye you could see forming right from where you were.
“You alright?” Joel asked with slight irritation remembering this was the same man who locked you out of the house on a late night.
“Fine, thanks Miller. I’m fine” he pulled himself away stumbling inside as Joel watched him close the door behind him.
Just as he made his way back to his front lawn you came out worriedly.
“Is he ok?” You asked as he gently pushed you back in the house.
“He’s fine, little bruised up but he’ll be fine”
“I should go check” Joel quickly shook his head not approving.
“Joel that’s my father-“
“And what if those men come back, you would’ve been in that house in the middle of a bunch of drunk men fighting had you not stayed here.” A look of defeat from you made him feel slightly guilty.
“I’m sorry baby, I just don’t feel you’re safe there right now” he tried to explain. You nodded in silence walking inside without looking back.
After getting some rest for a few hours you got up early before Tommy would return. Joel was already awake, you found him in the kitchen making breakfast.
“I better get going” your voice making him look up.
“Slow down, honey, I’m making us breakfast”
“Save it for you and Tommy, I don’t wanna risk him seeing me here again.” Joel followed you to the door before gently pulling you back against him. His hands on your waist he didn’t say a word resting his head on yours.
“I wish you didn’t have to leave” he whispered.
“Me neither” you sighed.
“By the way, I’ll pass by the pharmacy and get you some of that mornin’ after pill” his words making you blush.
“Sorry about that” the two of you chuckled.
“I’m on the pill, it’s ok” He kissed you once more before you turned and left back to your house. Joel watched until you got inside, wishing you didn’t have to stay there at all but what else could he do.
Returning home you found glass broken all over the floor, a broken chair and food thrown everywhere. You sighed, after an amazing night reality set in.
Your father must’ve still been sleeping not hearing a sound and so you began cleaning up the mess. As you cleaned you heard Joel’s truck out front knowing he was leaving for work just as Tommy drove in.
Hours later in the evening you heard your father wake up. Making his way down the hall as you stood by the open front door with a bag of garbage, instantly you noticed his bruises.
“Hey, dad-“
“Where were you?” His tone was filled with anger catching you off guard.
“Dad…I was at a friends house-“
“Did you see what they did to me?” He stepped closer pointing at his face.
“Where the hell were you?!”
“Dad, I stayed over a friends house I didn’t want to be here with all those drunk men and-“
“So this is your fault” he continued, his accusation causing you to shake your head with confusion as he stepped closer.
“This is all your fault!” He yelled loudly, Tommy who was throwing out the garbage looked up at the sound of your fathers voice.
“How the hell is it my fault?! Those are your friends that you insisted on having here!” You yelled back when an unexpected hard smack to your face made you stumble.
“Shit” Tommy whispered to himself. In shock you stood not saying a word before your father marched off outside slamming the door behind him, eager for another night of drinking.
Once the door closed you slowly moved your hair out of your face. Never had your father lay a finger on you, feelings of betrayal and hurt taking over.
Tommy watched as your father walked off unsure if he should check on you. Being that he never spoke to you that way he felt he was better off minding his business, besides, he knew you weren’t aware he saw anything.
A few hours later Joel was home with dinner for Tommy and Sarah. The day passed and he couldn’t stop thinking about the night he had with you, wanting you the more he thought of you.
“You’re in a good mood today” Tommy chuckled opening the box of pizza.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Joel shrugged before taking a quick bite of a slice.
“Better than that asshole next door seemed today. Giving that friend of yours a hard time” Joel immediately took interest in what Tommy was speaking of.
“What do ya mean, what happened?” He leaned back on the counter crossing his arms.
“The girls dad, they were arguing..he ended up-“ Tommy motioned a smack to the face so Sarah wouldn’t hear what was being spoken of.
“He hit her?” Joel blurt out, his expression instantly changing with what he was told.
“Where is he now? Why didn’t you call me?”
Tommy confused with how invested Joel was, with how angry Joel became.
“What’s going on?” Sarah asked confused.
“Not now honey, go to your room. Uncle Tommy and I are talking” Sarah looked at her uncle who gave her a nod before she quickly did as she was told.
“Joel I didn’t know I was suppose to call you, and he left after that. I haven’t seen him return since” Joel didn’t respond quickly patting his pockets for his phone until he found it and giving you a call.
Laying in bed with your door locked you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing.
Thankfully it was Joel.
“Hello?” you quickly sat up relieved to hear from him.
“You alright?” Joel turned his back to Tommy.
“Y-yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You responded confused, you didn’t understand why he sounded so concerned. No one had seen what happened earlier…not that you realized. Joel stood silent realizing you weren’t going to tell him about what happened. Realizing that protecting you was going to be something much harder than he expected…but he wasn’t giving up on it…
Tags: @sushiumex @pinkiec6-rubi @princesatracionera
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captainfern · 8 months
Note
MARIGOLD PREQUELLLLLLLLLLLLLL 🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌
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Marigold - Prequel
dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“Marigold” by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - where it all began with you and price, your dad's best friend. oh and the first time you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.9k [hehe] • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], f!masturbation, m!masturbation, unprotected piv, soft!price/gentle!price, oral [f!&m!receiving], PRAISE, breeding kink?, strong language
thank you all for the support on this little series that's also not really a series lol. lots of luv <3
unedited but enjoy anyway lol
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In all seriousness, you had rats to thank for starting you and Price's relationship.
No, seriously.
Rats.
"Honey, you remember my mate John, don't you?" Your dad asked one evening as the two of you settled in for dinner.
You looked up from your plate of food, fork suspended half-way to your mouth.
"Price?" You queried, before sticking the forkful of food in your mouth and chewing thoughtfully as your dad replied with a nod.
"Yeah, Price," your dad said. "He's going to be staying with us for a few days while his house gets bombed."
You blinked, shocked. "...bombed?"
Your dad laughed. "Not actually bombed. Pest-bombed. Over his last deployment, rats got into his cupboards and ripped the place up, so it'll be a week of exterminators and contractors until his house's back to normal."
You put another forkful of your dinner into your mouth.
Price had been your dad's best mate since, like, forever. They had served together in the military, and remained in contact even when your dad retired when you were young. You remember seeing Price a lot when you were younger, but after your dad's retirement, the time they spent together got less and less.
Embarrassingly, you remember the last time you had a good look at him and you realised that, oh my god, he's hot. Not long ago, a year or so maybe, when he popped around for your dad's birthday in between deployments. He was polite to you, and nice, but you couldn't help but stare.
His muscular back, strong shoulders, forearms lined with veins. He was fresh out of a deployment with dishevelled hair and a scruffy beard and you just couldn't help but feel a little warm.
But it was a crush. Something stupid, anyway.
"Why's he staying here?" You asked. "Why not just stay at a hotel or something?"
"I invited him," your dad told you. "It'd be nice for us to catch up, anyway. And it'll be good for him to relax before he has to head back to work."
You accepted that answer. Your dad deserved to spend some time with his old friend, and it wouldn't make sense to challenge that. So, after dinner and once you'd helped your dad with the dishes, you both worked together to set up the guest room.
A couple of hours later, the doorbell rung.
You were lounging on the couch, some trashy reality show echoing around the living room. Your dad got off the couch and headed out into the hall, opening the front door.
You knew who it was going to be, so you weren't surprised hearing your dads excitable chatter as he greeted his old friend and welcomed him into the house. You listened as, after a few minutes, their footsteps drew into the living room, and you made the effort to pause the show you were watching and cast your eyes across the room.
"Say hi to Price, honey." Your dad smiled, gesturing to the man beside him.
You smiled, offering a small wave. "Hi, Price."
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck.
It had been about a year since you had seen Captain John Price in person and oh my god. He was still attractive. So much so that butterflies began fluttering around in your stomach, and you felt your body growing hot beneath his gaze.
He was still as fit as ever. Military-style fit, too. Strong shoulders and arms, lean torso, strong legs too. Big hands enclosed around the handles of two black duffel bags. He wore a beanie, and his facial hair was, like you remembered, a bit on the messier-side. You wondered whether he'd shave it, or clean it up tomorrow.
Then, he greeted you with your name. A deep voice, all rich and warm like the cigar smoke and cologne he smelt of. Your name on his tongue made your stomach pinch with some kind of giddy nerves. It sounded nice. He smelt nice, too. He looked nice.
Holy fuck.
Did... did you fancy your dad's best friend?
You physically shook your head to yourself as you looked away and your dad led Price upstairs. A stupid crush, that's all. You stared blankly at the TV, not even resuming your show. You just stared at the paused frame of blurred colours, your mind running away from you.
And you didn't know if you'd be able to catch it.
•º•
The next morning, you and your dad were both up early for work. You ate breakfast at the table, scrolling tiredly through your phone like you usually did until the sleepiness left your system.
Your dad was humming to himself in the kitchen, fixing himself a cup of tea and his second lot of toast (the first lot he had burnt).
The stairs creaked in the early morning silence, and both you and your dad looked up as Price appeared in the doorway of the kitchen in– oh my fucking god– no shirt.
He'd trimmed his facial hair, too. It was neat against his cheeks and above his full lips, and you couldn't help but imagine what it'd feel like–
No. Stop it.
He greeted your dad, then looked momentarily surprised to see you sitting at the table. He bid you good morning, then loitered uneasily in the doorway, eyes flicking to your dad.
"Sorry, d'you want me to put on a shirt?" Price chuckled, and your dad laughed back, shaking his head.
"Nah, mate, you're all right. Half the time I'm walking around here with no shirt on anyway, so she won't mind, will you, honey?" Your dad turned to you, and so did Price.
You tried your best to ignore Price, looking directly at your dad.
"I don't care," you said as casually as you could muster. "At least he's not wearing a fluffy pink dressing gown."
Your dad rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Don't make fun of my pyjamas, kid. I got it from Marks and Spencer for about thirty quid."
You shook your head in amusement, sparing a glance at Price as you turned back to your phone. Maybe you shouldn't have, because those stupid butterflies appeared in your stomach again.
You caught a glimpse of his abs, faint but chiselled lines along his abdomen. The brush of hair across his chest, and the happy-trail leading down into the waistband of his flannel pyjamas. His arms were so big too.
Okay, seriously. Stop it.
•º•
You got home from work late that evening, the house dark and curtains open. You did your usual routine, going around the house and pulling the curtains so you could turn on the lights. You paused outside the guest bedroom though, deciding against going in, and instead moving on.
You showered quickly, then moved downstairs. Sometimes, you'd cook dinner for your dad, and that's what you decided to do tonight.
Half way through cooking, ingredients strewn across the kitchen, the front door opened. You were expecting your dad, but when Price walked into the kitchen, you hoped you didn't look too shocked to see him.
"Oh, hi, Price," you greeted. "How's your day been?"
He smiled softly at you. Politely.
"Not bad," he said, sliding into one of the barstools across the kitchen island. "You?"
You shrugged. "Work's shit, but it is what it is."
His smile continued, and he watched you cook for a moment. You were acutely aware of the way his eyes watched you, watched the movement of your hands, the movement of your body around the kitchen, the concentrated expression on your face.
"You like to cook?" He asked you eventually, melodic voice punctuating the borderline unnerving silence.
"I like cooking for my dad," you said. "I mean, I'm no chef, but my dad seems to like it."
Price cocked his head, taking in the range of ingredients that were spread out across the kitchen counter, as well as ingredients splashing along the marble surface.
"You like making a mess, too, by the looks of it." Price said jokingly, gesturing to the various kinds of sauces and baking agents smeared over the countertop.
The sentence was innocent enough, but it made your heart hammer faster for some reason. Maybe it was the smooth baritone of his voice, or the fact Price said it. Either way, the pace of your heart quickened within your ribcage as you bent down to place your creation in the oven.
You stood up once the food was in the oven, brushing your sticky hands across your apron. Price was still looking at you, and he laughed at the state of your apron.
"So messy." He tutted.
Butterflies. Fucking hell.
"It's a new recipe," you said quickly before your body could betray you and render you speechless. "I'm usually not this messy, I promise."
He just hummed curiously at that.
When your dad got home not long later, dinner was ready. You, him and Price sat down for dinner, and your dad was like a growing teenage boy shovelling the food gratefully into his mouth. You wondered how he wasn't burning the roof of his mouth.
"This is great, honey," your dad said through a mouthful of food and you tried not to laugh. "Thanks."
"That's okay," you smiled ruefully. "I'm glad it's at least edible."
Price chimed in. "It's great, sweetheart. You did well."
Sweetheart.
You did well.
"Oh, thanks..." You muttered. Butterflies again.
•º•
The next couple of days were much the same.
The three of you would wake up at relatively the same time, having breakfast together and talking about the day ahead. Then you'd all head off, you and your dad to work, and Price to... well, who knows. Then, you'd get home at the end of the day and, surprisingly energised, you'd cook for your dad and Price.
Price would get home before your dad, by at least an hour. He'd watch you cook, chatting to you about anything and everything you wanted to talk about. He was attentive when you spoke, or when you yammered on about something that made you excited. He'd listen with a smile, asking you questions about your interest that had you spiralling happily again. You somehow almost burnt your pasta the last time you were telling him about your favourite movie.
Then, your dad would get home and you'd all eat dinner. The conversation was pleasant. But most of the time, you sat silently and listened to Price and your dad talk about the, quote, "good old days". Listening to military stories was also on the agenda. Not that you minded. It was nice seeing your dad happy.
After dinner, you'd do the dishes. Price offered to take over, and you refused. He struck a deal though, your dad helping too, and the three of you made it a military-style regime to wash the dishes and get them away in record speed. You laughed at the goofiness of it all, and how Price ordered your dad around. Your dad would salute and march around the kitchen with a stack of plates in his hands, making you and Price laugh.
But it was nighttime where things differed.
You'd say goodnight to Price and your dad. Sometimes, they were still awake in the living room, or maybe in the kitchen. Other times, they'd retired long before you. Either way, you'd find yourself beneath the covers of your bed, the silence of the night drowning you.
Of the almost four nights Price had stayed, you'd gone to sleep with him on your mind each time. Three of those four nights were all fluffy and cozy and warmth-inducing. Images of him in your head, being so nice to you, being so polite. Such a gentleman. It didn't take long to fall asleep with a content smile on your face.
Tonight was the outlier though.
You'd manage to fend off the nighttime bombardment of butterflies on previous nights. But tonight, they returned with a vengeance. Your stomach was swarming with them at each thought of your dad's best friend. Flipping and swooping with nerves, your body growing hot. But with this warmth came an ache that made you scold yourself.
Stop it.
But you couldn't.
Price's handsome face– glimmering eyes, full lips, neatly trimmed facial hair. His body– the abs, the hair, the muscles. Damn.
You whined softly to yourself, the ache in between your legs intensifying, something pulling tight in the base of your tummy.
You just couldn't help it.
Another quiet whine on your lips, you impatiently shoved your hand beneath your pyjamas. Your middle finger made contact with your clit, puffy and swollen with your arousal, and you sucked in a breath when you began to circle it gently.
The relief was almost immediate, the tight feeling in the base of your stomach drawing tighter. Your body hummed with warmth as you sped up the movement of your circles, pleasure creeping through your veins. You probably didn't even need to fuck yourself. Judging by the way your body was reacting, you were close enough with just the attention to your clit. So, so sensitive.
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to keep yourself quiet, small moans and airy whimpers caught in the base of your throat. Your skin was becoming dewy with sweat, your legs beginning to shake as your finger pressed and drew shapes across your little bundle of nerves.
In your mind, flashing images of Price. Everything about him, physically and not. His voice, his words–
"So messy."
"You did well."
"Sweetheart."
A desperate whimper fell past your lips, your back arching, clit pressing tighter against your finger, hand beginning to ache. Your thighs trembled, heart-rate spiking as the coil in your stomach balled the tightest it had been all night, before it snapped.
"Price." You whispered into the darkness of your room as you came. It hit you hard, too. Sparks floating behind your eyelids, your entire body trembling against the mattress as your cunt spasmed around nothing, your clit pulsing in time with the beating of your heart.
You came down from your high with a wave of embarrassment crashing over you, and you broke the surface of it with a gasp and a frustrated sigh. You kicked off your blankets, burning up, sticky with sweat.
"Fuck..." You whimpered, eyes suddenly pricking with tears.
Maybe this wasn't just some stupid crush anymore.
•º•
Price heard you that night.
It was an accident.
He couldn't sleep after hours of pacing his room. So he ducked downstairs, grabbed himself a glass of water, and drank it whilst staring into the darkness. After, he rinsed the glass clean and dried it, putting it back in the cupboard, and then making his way back upstairs.
In his efforts of trying to be quiet, he heard you. Creeping past your room, he paused when he heard the soft creaking of your bed and a soft sigh escape beneath the small gap beneath the door. He cursed himself, initially believing he'd woken you up. But the more he listened, the more his cheeks began to heat up, and his cock began to stir in his pyjama pants.
It was wrong.
But you sounded so fucking pretty. Touching yourself, sighing and whimpering, trying so hard to be quiet. He wondered how you were touching yourself, how fucking wet you were.
His chest tightened in shame. What the hell was he doing? His best friend's daughter of all people?!
But he couldn't move. Not when the mattress shifted, the bed frame creaked, and a few more airy whines flew out of your mouth before you were whimpering his name.
His fucking name.
"Price."
He could've come right then and there.
He held out, gritting his teeth and shuffling silently back down the hall and into his room. He closed the door as quietly as he could and found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, taking his cock out of his pyjamas.
Already painfully hard and sensitive, he fucked it in his fist dry at first. The pre-cum dribbling from his slit made the movements glide after a moment, and he was quick to start moaning under his breath. He'd always been good at remaining silent with these types of things. But with you in his head, your whimpers in his head, he was trying desperately and almost failing to keep quiet.
Price stroked his cock, thinking about you. His best friend's daughter. He felt guilty. Dirty.
But it was no match for the feelings of lust and pleasure. He grit his teeth, trapping a moan between his molars as he circled the tip of his cock, more pre pearling at the slit. He imagined it being your pretty cunt, so wet and tight.
He grunted, tightening his grip, and then had to restrict another warbled groan. His balls tightened, stomach quivering as he came in a sudden hot spurt, coating his fingers and thighs. He jerked himself through it until his tip was flushed an angry red and he was on the verge of overstimulation.
"Christ..." He muttered, looking down at the mess he'd made.
He wanted to make a mess of you.
•º•
You didn't make dinner the next night after work. You were too tired, and you knew your dad would be sympathetic. So instead, you opted to have a nice, long shower. And by long, you meant long. You scrubbed yourself clean of the day's extremities, leaving you to smell really, really good.
It was much later by the time you got out, dressing into your pyjamas. You went downstairs. You'd probably just eat some leftovers, or dig something out of the freezer. Entering the kitchen, you were taken aback to see Price sitting at the kitchen island, arms folded along the marble surface. He looked up as you entered.
"Oh, hey, Price." You greeted, heading for the fridge.
His mouth curled into a small grin. "You can call me John, you know."
"Eh," you opened the fridge, your back to him. "I like Price. John make's you sound old."
"Is that so?" He cocked his head at you, watching you dig through the fridge. "Do I look old?"
You threw him a look over your shoulder. "Not really."
"Not really?" He chuckled.
"Mhm. The beard makes you look older."
He stroked his face while you pulled out some leftover pasta, closing the fridge and placing the container on the counter near the microwave.
"I like it, though." You told him with a smile, and your brain didn't quite register what you said until you were beginning to reheat your pasta.
"You like it?"
Fuck.
Damn it.
"It... suits you, yeah." You said shyly, not making eye contact. Your body was growing warm. It might as well have been you in that microwave by the way your skin was heating.
Silence filled the kitchen until the microwave began to beep. You took out your steaming pasta and dropped it noisily on the countertop.
You could feel his eyes on you, and it made your heart race. But it was racing in a good way. The way he looked at you, the way he made you feel, was something you'd never experienced before.
Slowly, you turned to look at him. He was looking at you, eyes soft and deep and warm and everything you wanted. It was like he was waiting for you to speak– waiting for you to open your mouth and tell him everything you wanted too. It's like he knew.
The butterflies were back.
You chewed nervously on your bottom lip, and Price's eyes followed the movement.
"Not making dinner tonight?" He asked you, voice smooth, eyes still on your mouth.
You shook your head. "No... sorry."
"Don't apologise, sweetheart."
You wanted to scream into a pillow or something. Sweetheart? Did he want you to have a fucking heart attack?
"Are you hungry?" You asked.
His eyes flicked up to yours. "Yeah."
You felt guilty. "Did you want me to cook–?"
"No," he said simply. "No, don't worry about that. I don't need food."
You cocked your head and he watched you do so. Confused, you frowned, sucking your bottom lip back into your mouth. Once again, his eyes darted downwards to catch the movement, his eyes flashing.
"Then what do you want?" You asked him, and deep down you already knew. Somehow, you knew what he wanted.
And you wanted it too.
Price got to his feet, casually rounding the kitchen island until he was standing beside you in the kitchen. You turned, your lower back pressed up against the adjacent countertop as he approached you slowly. You craned your neck to look up at him, your heart hurting from how hard it was beating inside you.
"I want you to be honest with me, okay?" He said softly, his voice comforting. "D'you want me to touch you how you touched yourself last night?"
Your entire body was on fire. Every nerve, every blood vessel was blistering hot. Your shame was the gasoline. But your lust was the fucking spark.
You let out a breath, a whine mingling with it. You averted your eyes, looking away. Immediately, a large hand gently took hold of your chin and guided your head back upwards, lightly guiding eye contact.
"It's okay, sweetheart, I promise," he told you in a whisper, the caring look in his eyes soothing the flames within you. "I want you to tell me. I want you to be honest."
For a moment, your lower lip trembled. A mix of embarrassment and arousal was confusing your brain.
You swallowed thickly. "Yes..."
"Yeah? You want me to touch you like you touched yourself? Make you feel good?" He probed, careful not to raise his voice above a whisper. "You want me to take care of you, sweetheart? It's okay, you can tell me."
You nodded. "Yes please."
The hand Price had on your chin moved to cradle the back of your head as he leaned down, his face hovering just above yours. His eyes scanned your features, his other hand moving to hold your waist.
"Can I kiss you?" Price asked, the words brushing over your own lips.
"Yeah..." You whispered, breathless from your impatience.
He smiled, then kissed you. It was so gentle and warm and everything you'd thought about the night before. It wasn't rushed or rough in anyway. He was taking his time– smoothing his lips against yours, cradling your head, slipping his tongue along the seam of your lips. You opened for him, your tongue meeting his, the kiss deepening.
He pressed you further into the countertop and you arched, chest meshing with his. His tongue was solid against yours, and you whined into his mouth, your hands moving to clasp the back of his head, fingers delving into his soft hair.
The hand on your hip pulled your pelvis flush with his. You groaned when you felt him hardening against your lower stomach, and Price pulled out of the kiss with a light squeeze to the back of your head.
"Feel that, sweetheart?" He said breathlessly, leaning himself heavier against you. "Feel how much I want you."
He took your hand in his, letting go of your head. He guided your hand between your bodies, and you took initiative in pressing your palm flat to the front of his jeans. He groaned, head flopping forward to rest on your shoulder. You palmed the solid imprint of his cock, your core throbbing at the muffled grunts eliciting from his throat.
"Price...?" You whispered, and he groaned again.
"Fuck... yeah?"
"I want you."
He groaned for the third time, low and breathy, before he pulled away from you. He grasped your hand, before dragging you out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. You giggled, giddy with excitement, as he led you upstairs.
"Your room or mine?" Price asked, bending down to kiss you again.
You pulled away, and he proceeded to kiss a wet trail down the bare expanse of your neck. "Mine..." You said, backing towards your room and urging him inside.
He closed the door behind you as you flopped onto your bed. You grinned when he followed you, crawling over top of your body and slotting himself against you, kissing you again. He licked into your mouth as you tugged and pulled at his hair.
A minute later, Price was crawling back down your body until he rested between your legs. He took hold of your pyjama pants and pulled them down, discarding them, while you threw your t-shirt off. You unclipped your bra and tossed it across the room when Price hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.
He looked up at you. "Is this okay?"
"This is perfect, Price."
He took a deep breath as he pulled your underwear down your legs, so slowly you thought about kicking him. But you didn't. His eyes were transfixed on your core, his mouth agape.
"Christ," he muttered, flinging your underwear away. He ran two fingers slowly up your slit, collecting your arousal, before drawing them into his mouth. He moaned around his fingers. "S'fucking perfect."
You whined as he tucked himself between your legs, his breath fanning over your glistening core.
"Watch me, sweetheart." He told you as he languidly licked a stripe up your slit, before latching his lips around your clit.
Your eyes rolled, but his words forced you to maintain eye contact. You watched his lower face disappear between your legs, his eyes hooded and locked onto yours as he ate you out.
He circled your clit with his tongue, his top teeth brushing lightly against the nerves. Your body jolted, a moan falling out of your mouth, before his tongue was laving over you once more. He then dragged his tongue in a zig-zag motion downwards until he circled your cunt. You whimpered loudly when he pushed his tongue inside you.
He grunted with each movement of his tongue, eyelids threatening to close each time more of your arousal trickled into the back of his throat. Your thighs were warm around his head, squishy against his ears. He couldn't help but grab a fistful of the flesh in his hands, kneading contently as he fucked his tongue into you.
You were on cloud-nine. His tongue was warm and solid inside you, your stomach fluttering with a build-up of pleasure. You reached a hand down, the other balled in your sheets, and grasped his hair, still maintaining eye contact. You moaned, the sound making Price groan into your cunt.
"P-Price, sir, m'gonna come." You told him desperately as your impending climax began warming your body, thighs growing tighter around his head.
The word sir made Price moan into your cunt and redouble his efforts, fucking his tongue into you at a renewed pace that made you sob out his name in pleasure. Your thighs shook against his head, your cunt fluttering around his tongue, arousal dribbling down the sides of his chin.
He was throbbing in his trousers, your noises and taste building his own arousal. His cock twitched painfully in the confines of his boxers and when you came, he almost came with you. Almost.
You came with a whiny "Price", pushing his head further into you. He licked you through it, dragging his tongue out of you once your hole stopped spasming, suctioning your swollen clit back into his mouth. You whimpered curses, pulling at his hair. He conceded, and detached his mouth.
"Feel good, sweetheart?" Price asked, kissing up your body as he crawled back over top of you.
You hummed your agreement, still fizzling down from your high.
After kissing along your breasts, Price slotted his mouth back to yours. You moaned when you tasted yourself on him, his face sticky against yours.
When he pulled back, his pupils were blown. "Tell me what you want, pretty girl."
"Want you." You whimpered, and he kissed you again.
He then stripped himself, discarding his clothes on your floor. When he removed his boxers, you tossed your head back and groaned. His hard cock bobbed up against his abdomen. A slight curve, a prominent vein along the underside, leading to a ruddy tip already leaking pre. You took hold of it, feeling the soft, velvety ridges against your palm.
Price hissed. "Sweetheart–"
"Can I use my mouth?" You asked, slowly starting to stroke his cock.
He groaned, head dropping back as if the words you said struck him across the face. He seemed to contemplate it for a moment, really thinking hard, as his eyes dropped down to yours.
"You don't have t–"
"I want too," you smiled, before you were pushing him off of you and slipping off the bed.
He watched you patiently, situating himself on the edge of the bed and planting his feet on the floor. He parted his legs, allowing you to settle between them. You took hold of his cock again, and his hips twitched, a sound like a whimper being whispered from the depths of his throat.
Price looked down at you, stroking your hair as you worked your hand up and down his length. His eyelids drooped when your fingers neared his tip, and when you worked them around the underside, he whispered your name in a pleasured sigh.
He continued stroking your head and face. "Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart? You don't h–"
You shut him up by leaning forward and licking a stripe up his cock. He choked on his sentence, hand resting gently on the crown of your head as you licked him from base to tip. You kept one hand around the base of him, pumping as you worked your tongue up the vein on the underside of his cock.
He hummed a moan, something vibrating deep in his chest, primal almost, as he watched you. His eyelids had dropped, his pupils stretched wide, hips twitching each time your tongue skimmed the base of his tip. He was fucking leaking, now, and you wasted no time in cleaning him up.
Retaining eye contact, you wrapped your mouth around the tip and he moaned. A pretty, desperate sound that made your wet core flutter around nothing. You sunk deeper and deeper, taking more of him, until your mouth was stretched wide, your lips pressing against the side of your hand where you squeezed him. Price moaned again, head of his cock nudging the back of your throat. You gagged, pulling up slightly, and he let out a deep grunt.
"Easy, sweetheart, s'alright..." Price dragged out, hand warm on the top of your head.
Saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth in strings, smearing down his length as you brought your head up. You circled your tongue around his head again, swiping against the slit and making his hips buck. You withheld a smile and took him deeper again. You repeated this action a few times, until Price had left that tentative, almost nervous view behind him.
Now, he had a firm but guiding hold on the back of your head, groaning and panting as you sucked his cock. He urged you gently to take more of him, and you eventually removed your hand so more of him slid down your throat. You gagged, and he groaned and pulled back slightly, before repeating the action again anyway.
A hand to your head, he pulled your head all the way back until your lips wrapped around his tip. You looked him in the eyes, tears along your waterline, before he was pushing you back down.
"Yeah, that's my girl," He groaned as you took him all the way to the base. "Fuck, that's my girl. My good girl, baby, fuck."
You whimpered around his cock, the praise making your stomach flip and your cunt ache. Your arousal was physically dripping down the curve of your thighs, and you shivered.
Suddenly, his hips began twitching and his mouth dropped open, a breathless moan filtering out. He grabbed hold of the back of your neck and slowly pulled you away from his cock.
"I need you, sweetheart, come on." Price whispered when you whined, your mouth detaching from his cock with a wet pop.
You wiped the saliva away from your mouth with the back of your hand. "But–"
Price urged you to your feet, pushing you back onto the bed and flattening you against the mattress with his frame. You smiled at his desperation, feeling his wet cock against your inner thigh as he spread your legs with a squeeze to the backs of your knees.
He leaned down and kissed you. "I– fuck– I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Let me inside you. Please."
You'd never thought he'd be the type to beg. Holy shit.
You giggled nervously, kissing him again. Price groaned into your mouth, one large hand coming to hold the side of your face, caressing it gently. He then grabbed his cock near the base and guided it to your dripping cunt. He ran the tip up and down your folds a few times, making you mewl into his mouth, before tapping the head against your slick hole.
He broke the kiss, panting. "Oh fuck, I don't have a con–"
"Birth control," you said quickly, body writhing beneath his. "Please, just–"
His brows pinched together in light concern. "Okay, okay, but you need to stop me if I you–."
You were begging now. Desperate for him. "I'm okay, Price. Please, sir, just please–"
With a low grunt, Price pushed in slowly, the tip of his cock stretching you open. You moaned loudly, nails dragging down his muscled back as he slid more and more inside you, inch by inch. He groaned, caging your head between his arms, his eyes locked on your face, searching for any sign of hesitance. But he only found pleasure as your mouth dropped open and your eyelids flitted.
You were so tight around him, warm and wet. He closed his eyes for just a second. He was focussing on not coming straight away.
You mewled loudly when the tip of his cock nudged your cervix, his hips flush with yours. Your nails scraped down his back, and he grunted, dipping down to kiss you. The kiss was sloppy and messy, all tongue and no direction. He didn't move his hips, and the feeling of him inside you, warm and heavy, made you break the kiss with a moan.
"Price, oh my god." You breathed against his lips, hole clenching around his girth.
He groaned. "I know, sweetheart, I know."
You whimpered when his hips shifted, pelvis grinding against you. He paused, moving his head back to look at you.
"You okay?"
You nodded, humming your approval. "Mhm– yes, m'good, Price. Mmm feels so good– please don't stop, please–"
Gently, he pulled out until his tip was just barely inside you, his length and the hair at the base glistened with your arousal. Then, he was thrusting back into you, making you moan his name again.
"Fuck, that's it, good girl, sweetheart," he murmured, sucking a kiss to your jaw. "There you go, just take it... taking it so well, sweetheart."
You moaned, arching your back. The sounds of his thrusts were wet and loud in the silence of your room, accompanied by the slapping of skin and your mewls of pleasure.
"Feels like you were just made for me," Price whispered, cock bullying the plug of your womb, making your eyes roll. "Mhm... this pretty cunt was just made for my cock."
"Sir..." You dragged out through a moan, hands flailing to keep you grounded, dragging up and down the plains of his back. You wanted to say something else. It began slipping out of your mouth, "Cap–" before you stopped yourself.
Price groaned, slamming into you harder. "Yeah that's right, pretty girl. Call me captain, baby. S'your captain making you feel so good, yeah? S'your captain filling this tight cunt."
You moaned loudly. You hoped your neighbours weren't home. Your nails dug into his back as tight pleasure built up in the base of your abdomen. Your thighs were quivering, your entire body being consumed by him.
Price, Price, Price.
He slammed into you again and again, drawing more sounds from you. His body was warm over yours, solid and comforting and you almost wanted to sob. You felt so good. He was making you feel so good. Your dad's best friend. Fuck.
You couldn't help but whimper at that thought, your clit pulsing, sitting shiny and puffy. And it's like Price knew– he always seemed to know what you wanted. Still fucking you steadily, he reached downwards, dragging his hand down your body. The rough pad of his middle finger found your swollen clit, and you keened, sobbing out a moan as he applied pressure.
"S'that feel good, sweetheart?" He asked in a whisper, pressing tight circles as his hips worked his cock into you. "Is this what you needed? Wanted me to play with this pretty clit, is that it?"
Your eyes rolled, his words turning your brain to mush. "Y-yeah," you stuttered, tummy drawing up tighter, legs quivering faster against the mattress. "F-feels... g..."
You sentence was lost as his cock hit that spot inside you over and over again, making your blood pump hot and the base of your belly flood with a burning kind of pleasure that had tears falling from your eyes.
Price kissed your tears away as you moaned, arching your back, your tits pressing up against his chest.
"Captain, please–" you choked on a pleasured sob. "M'gonna–"
"S'alright, sweetheart, come for me," Price said softly, kissing a tear from your cheek. "Good girl. Come for me."
He shifted his head and kissed you deeply when you came. Your tongues pressing together as you trembled against him, cunt squeezing his cock. Your release made your body burn up, and you felt it drip hot and wet out of you, dribbling around the sides of his cock. You moaned his name into his mouth, and he swallowed it whole, continuing to rut into you.
"Good girl, good girl..." Price muttered, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.
He moved his hand away from your clit, back up to the side of your head.
He released your lip when he groaned. "Fuck, m'not gonna last, sweetheart."
Dazed, you pressed your mouth to his again. It was sloppy and wet, uncoordinated through your post-orgasmic haze. He grunted against your tongue, thrusts losing rhythm as he neared his peak.
"Come for me, sir, please." You whispered into his mouth, and that sent him over the edge.
He groaned your name into your mouth, coming deep inside you. The warmth that filled you made you keen, and Price kept thrusting, panting with his lips brushing yours.
"Fuck, baby, fuck..." He whined, finally stilling inside you, plugging you full of him.
After a long moment of basking in each other's heat, he pulled out. You mewled as he sat on his ankles, watching his cum leak out of your dripping core. He gathered the mix on two fingers, shoving it back inside you with a satisfied grunt.
"So messy..."
•º•
Price cleaned you, applying a warm, damp cloth between your legs. He dressed you, too. While you were still laying down, he pulled your clothes back onto you– minus your bra, which you didn't want back on as that would've involved you actually sitting up– then he tucked you beneath the covers.
He placed a kiss to your forehead, before he ducked into the bathroom and cleaned himself up. When he returned to you, he put his clothes back on, and then leaned over to kiss you on the forehead again.
"You still hungry?" He asked, cupping your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.
You shook your head. "No... m'gonna sleep for a bit."
He smiled, kissing you briefly on the lips before leaving your room, closing the door behind him. He made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, your pasta sitting cold on the countertop. He tossed it back into the microwave and heated it up again. When he pulled it out, steam curling upwards, the front door opened.
Price felt a pang of guilt in the depths of his stomach, just briefly, before his mind was flooded with images of you, and he was desperately trying not to get hard again.
Your dad walked into the kitchen, dumping his work gear near the dining table.
"Hey, mate," your dad said with a smile. "Good day?"
Price couldn't help but smile, disguising it by stabbing a fork into the past and bringing it towards his mouth. "Yeah, mate, really good. You?"
Your dad continued on about his day, telling Price animatedly about his activities at work. Once he'd concluded his story, he looked around pointedly. "Where's our chef?"
Price laughed. "No chef today, mate. She's in bed."
"Oh, strange. Rough day at work, probably," your dad said. "She's a good girl, you know. I'm really proud of her."
Price smiled. He couldn't help but agree.
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was this ok? idek lol
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eddiernunson · 3 months
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Selfish | Steddie x Fem!Reader | 18+
Summary: Reader is torn as she wants two people at once, and she figures it's impossible...in the sense that they would never want her. She is proven wrong after making an accidental audience with Eddie one night...
Warnings: voyeurism, perv!Eddie, public smut, masturbation (f + m), a little bit of Steve x reader, double penetration...and lots of self indulgent writing.
Authors' Note: Yeah this is just self indulgent. That's all. I'd want them both. <3
Word Count: 10.8k
Selfish.
On a regular day, it’s hard not to feel completely selfish. There’re a million different voices in your head telling you to make a damn choice. Not just telling, but begging. 
Not just in your head, but in your life. Your friend and confidant, Robin is one of the many voices telling you so.
You can’t help it, it started so innocently. During the course of the school year, you happen to start thinking that Eddie Munson is damn fine. Your paths barely cross, only seeing him across the cafeteria at lunch or the occasional party to sell. Something about him drew you in. His hair, his hands, his strong forearms, his lust for life, that slutty little waist… He is enticing, hypnotising.
It’s not like you’re ever going to get with someone who you’ve never spoken to unless you somehow drag him into a hallway closet. Oh, isn’t that idea ever tempting?
It’s an uneventful day at school, save for the random graffiti anonymously placed on each class room door. There were several suspects, the perpetrator found but not announced, much to the entire school’s dismay.  
When Robin meets you at your regular table, she has a litany of complaints up her sleeve. If you don’t stop her, she can talk for hours about any given subject that passes through her brain. At this point, from an entire summer and autumn working with her on top of spending many hours shooting the shit with her, you’re ridiculously used to it. You might even call it charming.
As usual, you listen with an empathetic, yet distracted ear. Your eyes flicker to Munson every now and then, appreciating the way his muscle shirt shows off his toned arms. Usually, they’re engulfed by his large leather jacket, but on this unusually hot autumn day he is taking advantage of the warmer weather.
Oh, and so am I, you think to yourself, eyeing him up and down appreciatively.
Your eyes flicker back to Robin, holding back a giggle at her expression. She knows about your crush of course, not that you’d tried to hide it. Robin would come up with schemes to set you up with him, but there’s one little obstacle.
“You’re shameless, you know that?” She accuses, a half smile on her face. She’s being playful, as always. “One of these days, you’re going to have to make up your mind.”
This conversation is repeated, always on replay. It’s one of your little games. “I mean,” you start cheekily, “who said anything about talking to them?”
She shakes her head, quiet laughter leaving her lips. “You are impossible.”
See, Robin knew your secret. Not only were you infatuated with Eddie, but with your coworker as well. Steve.
Steve is a bit more realistic; you suppose. After all, you work part time with him, up to 25 hours a week. Most of the job is spent moving tapes from place to place, categorizing, and talking shit. Lately, even more than normal, you’re hypnotized by him, your eyes sometimes glazing over as you take in just how pretty his brown eyes are.
Man, do you have a thing for brown eyes.
This usually eggs him on, thinking his words must mean something. They don't, really. You don’t take in a single word of what he’s saying. You’re just admiring him, his pretty lips, the freckles decorating his skin…
See, your problem is that you can’t decide on which one you’d want more…not that there’s any part of you that remotely thinks you would have that luxury. You’re not possibly conceited enough to believe that you would have a choice. Really, if it came down to it, (emphasis on if), it would be which one would choose you.
And they have so much better to choose from.
So, you let yourself imagine it. There’s certainly no harm in the what if.
“Not impossible, just horny.” You laugh, winking at the way she chokes on her water.
-
Steve pushes the cart of returns around, tapping his hands rhythmically on the plastic. You are on rewind duty, using a rewinder to go through each returned tape quickly and effectively. It’s a weekday, so business has been slow. Weekdays give more leeway on the display tvs, topics of discussion, and finally, to fuck around.
“Hey, Robin isn’t working today, right?” Steve asks, looking back at you.
You’re invested in the movie playing, leaning against the counter. “Hmm?” The question registers. “Oh, no she’s off on Wednesdays, remember? Band rehearsal after school.”
“Right, right.” He nods, something clearly on his mind.
“Something going on in that pretty little head of yours, Harrington?” You ask, switching the tape out for a new one.
He looks over his shoulder, licking his lips. “Pretty, huh?”
You roll your eyes, completely missing the way his eyes trail down your body. Your disregard of any possibility for a mutual attraction really is your blind spot. “You know you’re pretty, Harrington. Don’t play dumb.”
He shakes his head, pushing the cart along towards the romance section. “If you say so, sweets.”
You lick your lips, tasting the cherry ChapStick that deepens the shade of your lips into a darker red. Something about him is different today.
On the computer is a sticky note asking if the back room filled with unlabelled tapes could be organized and categorized. With the lack of customers, list of chores completed, and plenty of time left in your shift, you end up being bored enough to follow through. It won’t be done in one shift, but at least you’ll get it started. It’s a damn tedious process.
Not even twenty minutes pass by, a pile of marked and labeled tapes already to your left when the door to the back room shuts. You suspect for only a second that Steve needed to grab something, until you feel a pair of hands on your hips and hot breath on your neck. You freeze, gulping as you stare dead ahead at the tapes standing in a row. Your throat dries up like a drain unplugged, every limb freezing in place like you’re glued to the spot.
“Steve?” You ask after a moment passes.
He hums, thumb swaying up and down your hip, gently brushing past the hem of your shirt onto your bare skin. The other hand curtains your hair from your shoulder, trailing kisses down the curve of your neck. As a reflex you relax into it, sighing as you lean into his warm, wet, touch. The sensation flutters throughout your limbs, turning every bone, every muscle, into gelatin.
Your head falls back against his shoulder as his teeth scrape across your skin decorated with goosebumps. Your relaxed disposition is short lived, freezing up when your mind catches up to what the hell is happening. “Wait—” you protest, head snapping up in a frenzy.
He holds your face, turning it towards him. Eyes are hooded, looking tired, but from his dilated eyes you can tell he’s anything but. “What?”
“We-we’re at work, Steve, someone can come in at any moment…”
He listens, partially, barely. His eyes flicker down to your lips, all shiny and tugging him in. “Is that your only protest?” Your heart races, feeling as if someone is pulling at the corners of your mouth as you hesitantly nod. “No one has come in for over an hour, and I locked the door and turned the sign around. We won’t be bothered.”
“Oh.” A gasp leaves your lips as he leans in for a kiss, mouth deliciously open against yours. He demands full control, his fingers spreading across your neck. Your body turns to face him, grabbing onto the collar of the polo shirt he wears under his green vest. You can barely keep up with him, giggling out of pure, absolute, giddiness.
His hand runs up your torso, shaking yet demanding. Your vest is pulled down your arms, his hand pulling you against him. He starts kissing down your neck, pushing you so his arm and your back collide with the shelf behind you. A startled gasp fills the small room, your feet shuffling as the mixed sensations create a pool in the bottom of your stomach.
“Look at you, so pretty, you feelin’ good?” You nod, a hand twisting under his shirt and grabbing at his bare torso. His voice is dripping in husk, gorgeous in a way you’ve only ever pictured.
“Uh huh,” you manage to choke out.
He doesn't falter at his multitasking, his expert tongue working against yours as his hands work the button of your jeans open and the zipper down. “Let’s see how soaked you are...” The joints where your jaw is attached to your skull feels as if they vanish as your jaw drops open and Steve places his hand on your thin, cotton panties.
“Shit, honey, you are soaked.” He mutters, a sly half smile on his face.
“Jesus,” you whimper as he gently teases you.
He wastes no time, pushing your pants down your ass, watching as he exposes you with a stupid level of intrigue. “Baby, you know how pretty your pussy is, just dripping wet, jus ‘for me?”
He slips a finger in, reaching the deepest depths, somewhere yours never fucking could. He’s so fucking good at it too, watching your face as his thumb rotates on your clit, the pleasure from it more than you knew was possible. “S-Stevie,” you whimper, fingers clutching onto his shirt. “Oh, my god.”
“Wanted to see you like this for weeks, honey.” He adds another finger, his face watching and listening for every reaction you feed him. He eats them up like he’s been starving for you.
This information simply didn’t process, because there is no possibility this is true. None. “R-really?” You ask, leg moving up to get better access to your pussy.
Steve smirks, relishing in how you tighten around his digits. “Of course, honey.” His voice is like velvet, tender and smooth. He starts to move them faster, pumping them quickly, watching the breaths from your mouth grow shallower, your head falling back onto a shelf. “You think I don’t notice you watching me?”
Steve loves the reactions you give him, watching how you melt into putty in his hands. “You did?” It’s so close, he’s only started and you’re already being hurtled towards the edge.
“The way your thighs tense up, your eyes watching me, those pretty lips parted…” he explains, you have to give him credit for being much more observant than you had pegged him for. “Wanted to put my thumb in your mouth so many times, darling.”
“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, tensing up as you get close to your climax.
He laughs. You’re almost offended by his nonchalance. Is…is he not turned on, too? “We were surrounded by people, sweets. I have some self control, yunno.”
The reminder that you’re in the back room with him at work is on your mind, a hint of cockiness floods your head. “Evidently, not-not that much.”
He works his fingers harder, you’re not sure if it’s a reward or punishment for your words, but the orgasm is abrupt, overflowing your senses completely as you shake against the shelf. “There she is,” he mutters, fingers working you through every sensation he so expertly provides you.
He smirks as he watches the afterglow take over your face, biting his lip when your head finally lifts up to face him. Just when you think he couldn’t possibly get any hotter, he proves you wrong. You don’t doubt he will prove you wrong again. And again.
…and again.
You barely take a second to recover, hands fumbling down for his jeans button. “Kay, now I need you.” You urge him, grinning at the way his cock pops out against the fabric of his shirt. A hushed swear falls from your lips when you take in his size, bigger than you even thought he was.
And you thought he was huge.
“Yeah?” He asks, a droopy smile on his face when your eyes peer up at him.
You nod, wrapping your hand around him, jerking him off. He’s thick, the head flushed red and a vein wrapping around it. When his face crumples, a crease appearing between his eyes, you’ve already proven yourself right in your theory. “Please, Stevie.” You urge him, pulling his cock towards your entrance.
Your ass sits on an empty shelf, where it’s been resting since he fucked his fingers into you. When he slaps his cock, already leaking with precum, against your clit, you whine impatiently, silently begging for him. “I like when you ask so nicely. Do it s’more, will ya?”
“C’mon, Stevie, I want your cock, so fucking bad. I’ve pictured this so many times, I fucking need it. Please.” You don’t mention anything about a third party usually being present, but that could come up, maybe…
Steve grins, marveling in the way your voice is so pathetic for him. It’s even better than he imagined, by more than a million miles. A part of him is greedy for you, greedy for even more proof of how badly you’ve wanted him, despite the clear evidence from the first time he clocked it.
At the time, he wondered if he was picturing it, the way your eyes were unfocused and shifted down at his arms. He was barely flexing them, when he did experimentally, he watched your breath literally hitch, eyes hurriedly switching back to his face.
It took a few more days of experimentation, but he finally confirmed it when the evidence was too congruent to think otherwise.
He’s even more greedy for you, having spent many nights thinking about you bent over, on your knees, on your back, riding him, you name it, he’s thought of it.
He can ask you to continually beg for him another time, right now he’s just desperate for you, so he ignores the call to ask you to beg even more and pushes the head in.
The gasp, your jaw dropping, the swears that fall from your lips and invade the quiet room, the way your pussy sucks him in, everything about your reaction is perfect to him. The feeling is likewise, watching in real time as his eyes darken for you, and for you alone.
He’s huge in a way you can’t even comprehend, frighteningly so.  Still, he starts thrusting, gently as he can muster, still stinging, regardless. He knows he should wait, he has to every time he’s with someone new, but god damn if your pussy wasn’t the best he’s ever felt in his life. His hips move wondrously, rolling them in a way that feels like magic.
You can’t help the yelps and the whines that fill the room, watching and combing your fingers through his famous locks. They’re so soft, despite the constant hairspray and hair products he uses. While the pain mostly overshadows the pleasure, the combination is beautifully laced together.
Boy, can he fuck better than you had imagined. While you have thought of some things while imagining him, nothing has ever even compared to all that he’s giving you.
The moans that pass through his mouth, the roll of his hips, the crumpled expression on his face…all things that your brain could never come up with. Sure, you thought he could talk dirty, imagined his long fingers instead of yours, maybe picturing the way you so desperately finger yourself; this wasn’t remotely close to what you imagined.
Hell, it wasn’t anywhere near what you had imagined.  
It’s so much better.
You whimper, stuttering on the S of his name, unable to finish it, too blissed to care.
“S-s, what, honey? What’s that you were saying?” He chuckles deeply when you tighten around him. “Oh, you like being talked down to, huh? Like being put in your place?”
You nod, pulling him for a needy kiss, losing any sense of concentration when his hand lands on your clit, rubbing it in the exact way you needed him to.
“I fucking knew you would, little whore getting fucked at work, taking his big cock like you were made to, fuck.” His thrusts get stronger, harder, faster, gasping wordlessly at how fucking good he is at it.
“Fuck, Stevie, you gonna breed me? Gonna cum in my pussy? Need it so fucking bad, please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”
The smile that invades his face is cocky, watching you crumble under him. “Listen to your pretty voice beg for me, you really want me that bad, huh?” You nod, wondering how his hips hit harder. How was that possible? “Gonna breed you, honey, just keep being a good girl f’me, and I’ll fill you up, mmkay?”
You nod, watching the beads of sweat slowly coat his reddened face. One hand curls itself into the hair by the crown of your head, gripping tightly and watching the intense pleasure that takes over your face. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, no longer aware of any existence outside of this room, you’re here, only here, and will only be here.
“Shit, gonna fill you up, honey, need to feel you cum all over my cock, won’t you, please, sweets, need it—” while he thinks your begging is beautiful, his is just the thing to put you over the edge. The fluttering of your tight walls around him pulling the cum that fills you up beautifully.
His cock thrusts through the collective orgasm you feel together, the force of it pushing his load out of your pussy, you watch it leak past his length and down your thighs. It’s a sight that almost makes you cum again.
He smirks, catching his breath in time with you. He places kisses up your throat, taking in the way you tighten around him. Finally, you come back down to earth, the smell of sex in the room from your tryst overwhelming it. How much febreeze would it take to hide it? Your jeans are barely down to your knees, shirt ruffled, and hair a mess. Man, did you get caught up in him, his kiss, his scent, his cock.
A shy grin cascades across your face, watching as a piece of hair curls its way into his eye. “Hi, beautiful.” He greets, hand plastering itself onto your cheek.
“Hi.” You whisper, still pulsing around him.
“Did you enjoy it as much as I did?” He asks, biting his lip as his eyes look bored into yours.
“Probably more.” You admit, grinning cheekily. “You did all the work.”
He laughs in answer, placing a kiss on your cheek as he pulls out. The loss is stark, you suddenly feel so empty.
Oh, he did manage his entire length. Fuck.
“Was it everything you wanted?”
You flick an eyebrow up at him, tilting your head. “I don’t know, Harrington. You tell me.”
He laughs, winking at you. “Yeah, whatever.”
You wouldn’t exactly call yourself his girlfriend at this point because that certainly didn’t feel like an invitation for such. In fact, when Steve mentions his date coming up that weekend you don’t exactly feel heartbreak, just jealousy.
Whatever weird relationship you just started with him, coworkers with benefits or whatever, you are down for it. You're immediately wondering how often you’ll be in the back room with him, sharing cheeky looks across the room when he winks at you.
When he’s that good, it’s hard not to be.
-
Despite the urge to, you actually don’t tell Robin over the phone about your hook up with Steve. Something about the secrecy just makes it that much hotter. You lie, telling her the night was boring with customers appearing for their late returns.
The store is reopened, Steve grinning at you manically as he continues with his work. Well, if you can call putting the returns away “work”.
Your mom is at work for the night, taking a double at the hospital. She left twenty bucks on the counter for supper, leaving a note to order some take out. Well, pizza it is. You order the vegetarian deluxe, rolling your eyes at the wait time; forty-five minutes to an hour. Apparently, they are very busy tonight. Whatever.
You decide to kill time, running up to your room and jumping on your bed, kicking your panties off, keeping the sweatshirt you wear on. Your fingers happily dance themselves onto your clit, using some of the gift Steve left you as lubricant.
Sometimes, the person you imagine takes over for you, sometimes they simply put their cock in you, disguised in the form of a dildo. This time, they merely watch.
“That’s right, let’s see those fingers touch your pretty clit.” You imagine his voice, Eddie, picturing him watching you. “Little slut can’t even be satisfied with Harrington’s cock, huh?” He asks, and yeah, maybe you are a desperate slut ready for either man to take advantage of you. But who fucking cares, at this point? Your hand moves up to touch your tit, sneaking past the hem of your shirt, when your own imagination stops you. “No, you can touch yourself over your sweater, I’m letting you touch your pussy, isn’t that enough?”
Somehow it makes you moan desperately, massaging it pathetically. You shake your head, feeling a bit like a brat for the moment.
“No? Feeling greedy, huh?” He asks, you picture his dark brown eyes fixated on your pussy, fingers itching to touch you, just able to prevent himself from doing so.
You grin, nodding. “Please let me, I’ll be so good.” You take full advantage of no one being home.
“Hmm. Don’t think you will be…” He muses, and man, did you know what you liked. You desperately hoped he would know, too. “You already had Harrington’s cock today, and now you want someone else?”
“Yeah, she is quite a slut, ain’t she?” Oh, there he is.
The idea of the two of them here, watching you with dark eyes, both breaking at the seams at resisting the want to touch you, creates a new stir in you that feels nearly impossible.
“Look at how greedy she is, desperate for us, ain’t she?”  You picture Eddie agreeing, squatting right in front of your bed to get a closer look.
Suddenly you forget about the urge to beg them to let you touch your tit and move on to begging for them. Begging for one of them, at least, to finally take pity on you and just fuck you already. Why is this so enticing to you? Why does it draw you in so, like a moth to a flame?
Well, you suppose if the flame was two hot, gorgeous, capable men, you’d be drawn to it just as a moth is, despite how badly the heat burns you.
Your fingers grow faster, gasping more intensely as the scenario furthers in your mind. You’re about to push yourself over the edge, the whines from your throat loud and desperate, when the doorbell rings twice, one after the other. Fuck, the pizza’s here.
You completely forgot you even ordered food to begin with.
You rush to put a pair of sweats on, petting your hair down desperately as you pick up the 20 from the counter. The bell rings twice more, you yell “I’m coming, I’m coming!” at the impatient driver. Well, you would’ve been if they were just five minutes slower.
The door opens to face Eddie Munson, holding a pizza in his hand and wearing a dorky delivery driver visor. Huh, the last thing you ever expect him to wear is a bright yellow visor, the shade of American cheese, with a dripping piece of pizza on it, that’s for damn sure. Well, the last thing you expected was to see Eddie Munson, especially with what you were just doing, what you were just picturing. Well, this is awkward. For you it is, for him you guessed it was just another delivery.
You smile awkwardly, tossing him the 20 and trading for your pizza. He asks how much you want back as the order and the delivery fee only cost you 10 dollars in total. You insist he takes the ten-dollar tip, grinning when he blinks in disbelief.
As much as you want to stay and talk to him and get a better handle of his voice, you were so close, and you can feel it starting to drift away. You close the door with a frank thank you and slide the pizza on the counter, running up the stairs.
As the door slams in his face, Eddie’s eyebrows raise, finding the whole interaction peculiar. In fact, when you opened the door, he clocked the scent right away. With how wet you are, both your arousal and Steve’s cum dripping down your thighs, it flooded his nose. Eddie knows the smell of pussy and knows it well. You were in such a rush to get back to your own imagination, you didn’t notice the way his jeans started to tent at the crotch.
Eddie starts to shrug it off, accepting the tip and taking the hint that you wanted alone time, but a sound, enticing and wonderous, floats into his ears. He thought he was hallucinating, did…did he just hear his name?
He wanders past the gate to your backyard and looks up to an open window, not seeing you, but hearing the moans that leave your throat as you continue your mission. His jaw slacks open, listening to you beg for him, beg for his cock. God, now knowing he has such power over you is driving him insane.
His cock throbs in his jeans to the point of hurting, he grabs himself just for the tiniest bit of relief, slightly stroking himself to the sound of your voice. Eddie’s legs are restless, like he wants to go back to your front door and ask if you want his help. He nearly carries himself there, ready to devour you, his career as a delivery driver be damned.
He only makes two strides when the second thing that freezes him into place comes out of your mouth. The first was you openly begging for him, but the second one is hearing you add someone else’s name in the mix. Eddie mistakes it for the wrong name, but as you intertwine his with Steve’s, it becomes clear to him that he wasn’t the only one you were currently begging for.
Your voice gets higher, more urgent, the begging transitions from begging for them to fuck you, which, jesus, to letting you finish. Man, he loves the way your mind works. He slips his cock out, unable to resist relieving himself any further. His eyes flicker to your neighbors’ lights, he hopes no one would be nosey enough to peer into your backyard for the night.
Come to think of it, he’s actually not sure he would care all that much.
The symphony of strings of swears and whimpers that float down from your window only adds fuel to his fire. “Oh, baby, just letting anyone listen to you, if they really wanted to, huh?” Sometimes being vocal is his Achillies heel. He should shut up, especially perving like this, but it’s nearly impossible.
You beg his name, imagining him and Steve refusing again.
“Listen to you beg like a little slut, hmm?” He muses, regretting that there’s nothing for him to clutch on to.
“Eddie, m’ so close…”
“Not yet, doll.”  He chides, hoping you’ll play along.
A miracle happens, as if you know exactly what his intentions would be. “Stevie, please?”
“Hmm, don’t you dare, Harrington.” Eddie threatens, and now he really does want to join you.
“Please, I’ve been so good…”
Your insistence, your sweet voice begging for him, God, Eddie’s already so damn close himself. “Let’s hear it, baby.”
The stars align, because from the sounds of your whines that come from your window are just enough for Eddie to spill over his fist, spurts of his cum dripping onto the grass beneath him. From the sounds of it, your orgasm is something that makes your every muscle spasm, the kind that lingers for minutes after. While your mewls, and whines, and whimpers are practically perfect, Eddie really wishes he could get the visuals.
He sees a shadow move; he wonders if you just remembered you have food waiting. He’d better move from your driveway before you realize he’s still there.
On his way to drop off a pizza that is also waiting to be delivered, one he knows he will have to pay for himself after the wait, (worth it), an idea forms in his head that is just too good for him to pass up or call it like it is…insane.  
-
When you feel a repetitive tap on your forearm at lunch the following week, you believe Robin is trying to annoy you. You ignore her, focusing on the novel you’re reading while you shrug her off. At the clearing of someone’s throat, you finally look up.
Oh, shit.
Eddie stands in front of you, hands in his pockets as he nods to the seat right next to you. All you can do is nod, out of breath as he sits in the seat right next to you.
“I’ll uh, just get going.” Robin mutters, shooting you a smirk as she gathers her backpack and takes off.
You shoot daggers at her, anxiously twisting your hands under the table, gulping as your nerves flood your senses.
Eddie rests his jacket leather covered arms on the table, head turned towards you. “Enjoy your pizza?” He asks, a twinkle in his eyes you can’t quite place.
Your brows furrow, confused until it dawns on you. He was the one that delivered it. “Oh…it-it was good.” You smile, sighing nervously.
A lopsided smile takes over Eddie’s face, he watches as the wheels turn in your pretty noggin. Knowing what the confusion meant when they furrow until the realization hits you. It’s a breath of fresh air, really, knowing he didn’t need to worry about rejection, knowing how secretly desperate you are for him.
He nods, licking his lips. “Good, good.” The way you sit nervously, the subtle tensing of your thighs, you’re sweet, amusing, even. “You going to Harrington’s party this Saturday?”
You blink, taking in the sentence. “Huh?”
He chuckles, and the smile on his face is gorgeous. “Harrington. Know him?” You nod, eyes wide. “You going to his party?”
Steve literally invited you the day before, suggesting he might drag you into a closet or something. “Yeah, I am.”
“Wanna go with me?”
Yes. Yes, you do. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. “Sure.” You accept, leaning on your elbow, a shy smile on your face.
“Pick you up at 10?” Somehow, Eddie has the ability to make you feel breathless, and his skin hasn’t even grazed yours yet.
Hopelessly, desperately, you wait for Saturday. Over the week, Eddie has caught your eye across the cafeteria, shooting his cocky grin that continually melts you into a puddle.
That same cocky grin he gives you as he drives over to Steve’s. While Steve knows of your crush on him, he also was aware of how much you like Eddie. Honestly he’s just rooting for you, seeing the excited glint in your eye when you give him the news.
Every little part of you is wondering how it is possible that you might have the choice…when weeks ago you thought you had no possible chance with either of them. There’s a slight part of you wondering…wondering if you’d slipped into an alternate universe where the world is starting to work out in your favor. It feels plausible until you wondered why the hell you’d be going to work or doing homework in your perfect world.
Eddie’s hand rests on your shoulder as you enter, the music blaring from Steve’s living room. A crowd of sweaty teenagers jumping, grinding, dancing, filled to the brim with far too much alcohol. You’d barely said a word to him, stuck in your head as you accepted a red solo cup from him. He makes his own mix, a brown liquid you don’t recognize with some coke. Yours is a vodka-sprite mix, hoping the extra shot you pour will loosen you up a bit.
Or…a lot.
“Dance with me?” He asks, pointing to the living room as he takes a big swig.
You squint at him, already in the middle of taking a big gulp, wincing at the burn. “You dance?”
He shrugs, fingers tapping on the red plastic of his cup. “I do when pretty girls dance with me.”
You take another big gulp, already feeling the effects. What can I say, you are a lightweight. “Better go find one.”
Well, it seems the alcohol is doing its thing.
Eddie’s arm easily wraps around your waist, pulling you up against him. The look in his eye excites you, gulping as his hot breath is on your neck, enticing a shudder. “You little shit.” He mutters, a smug little grin on his face. “I was already asking a pretty girl for your information. I was giving you the privilege of asking, but now you have no choice.”
The cup nearly collides with your nose as he takes another swig, his eyes never leaving yours. His hand easily intertwines with yours as he tosses the cup over his shoulder, tugging you to the living room.
You follow him, hypnotized by his siren’s song. Eddie doesn’t have an inch of patience left in him, already antsy from the show you put on for him. He lets his hands wonder, holding you close to him and going everywhere, your hips, your thighs, your ass, even trailing under your tiny skirt. You don’t protest, inhaling his scent. The mix of body wash, cologne, and just him is mouthwatering.
He doesn’t ask, doesn’t need to from the way you melt in his arms when his lips finally land on yours. The reward of your moan vibrating into his mouth is just what he needs, the very reward he was looking for. You don’t have it in you to pretend you aren’t eager, your lips searching for his as soon as it registers. The kisses are urgent, fervent, and just the right amount of messy.
His knee makes its way between your legs, already mapping how easy it is to make you fall apart, even in the middle of a crowd. And do you ever fold in his arms even at the subtle touch of his hands on your skin, tongue on yours, the adrenaline in your veins… it’s enough to make you forget you’re in a crowd.
When his tongue lands on your throat, sending ripples of pure ecstasy down your spine. The moment he feels you start to grind on his thigh, he has you right where he wants you. His mouth dives into your ear, heated breaths sending a chill through you. “I’ll be right back.”
Confused, you catch his eye, faltering as his knee leaves where it’s stationed.
He winks, walking across the living room, feeling pretty smug at how he feels your eyes on the back of his head.
Now for his plan.
Steve invited a girl over for his party, deciding he’d do exactly what he had insisted he’d do with you. Instead, he’s mesmerized by how you and Eddie are grinding across the way from him. No matter how hard he tries, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the two of you, now wishing you were following through on said plans with him.
When Eddie’s lips met your neck, he feels entirely too restless, forcing himself not to place you in the middle of a sandwich he’d very much like to be a part of.
Now the girl is off with another dude having sought out a different sex buddy when Steve backed out, making out with some jock on his couch. Not that he cares, he’s barely noticed her. He’s far too busy being captivated by you and your date.
Speaking of your date, he attempts to look busy as soon as Eddie starts crossing the room, to where Steve assumed was the bathroom a few feet behind him. Boy, was he wrong. As Steve crowds into the wall, pretending to be staring off towards anywhere else, Eddie stops right next to him, observing Steve with a smirk.
Eddie started keeping track of Steve as soon as he got to the party, keeping mental tabs on him. It wasn’t hard, Steve’s eyes were glued the two of you, and it made Eddie’s plan ten times easier.
“Hi, Harrington.” He smirks, watching Steve’s shallow breathing and shifty eyes. Wasn’t very often he’s seen him lack confidence, and it’s almost too easy to get the two of you to dance how he wanted. “Enjoying the show?”
Steve falters, batting his pretty eyelashes as he processes it. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”
Eddie rolls his eyes with his arms crossed. It certainly doesn’t help that Eddie had used every one of the tools in his belt. Shown off his arms, put some care into his hair, wore a shirt that was just a little too short for his torso…
As planned, it was working like a charm. “C’mon Steve, those pretty eyes of yours were burning a hole into the back of my head the entire time. Or…were you not watching the way she grinded on my leg?”
Steve’s eyes flicker to you, having now moved back into the kitchen to get another cup of alcohol. His eyes meet Eddie’s again, gulping, not able to find it in himself to deny any further. “Okay, so I was. It’s basically impossible not to.”
Eddie’s smile grows, his teeth just barely peeking through. “Isn’t it?” It really falls into Eddie’s favor that Steve was already against the wall, hand landing right next to his face. “Well, I gotta be honest, from the look on your face it almost looked like you wanted to join us.”
Oh god, is Steve hallucinating, or did Eddie just invite him to do the very thing he so desperately craved? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Munson.”
Eddie rolls his eyes again, amused at the hesitance Steve displays. “I’m not. I’m inviting you to one.”
Steve’s breath hitches, Eddie affirming exactly what he was afraid of. “Think she’d be down for that?”
The genuine laughter that leaves Eddie’s lips is a bit startling, to say the least. “I can say, Steve, with 100% certainty, that she would be.”
“Well, shit, Eds.” Steve laughs, already hard from the mere thought of it. “Let’s go get our girl.”
-
A part of you starts to worry, tipsy as you stare into your drink while sitting next to who you thought was Steve’s date but is all over some football jock. Despite your date being Eddie, you were glad. Your jealousy can start simmering down. You catch Eddie’s jeans ripped at the knee, eyes raking up to his face, noting Steve trailing right behind him.
Eddie ignores your confused face, offering his hand for you to take. Yours lands in his, and it wraps around yours as he effortlessly tugs you up to him. “Come on, we’re going upstairs.” He waits for you to acknowledge Steve standing by you, eyebrow quirking up. “Oh, Steve’s joining us.”
You are not protesting. That's the last thing you'd be doing. If anything, it’s just sudden. All you can do is let out stuttered breaths, attempting to ask how, or why, before getting to the what.
Eddie pretends to falter, brow furrowing as he condescendingly tilts his head. “What, I thought this is what you wanted?”
Okay, how could he possibly know that? “Y-yes, yes, I do, but-but how--?”
“You should probably close your window next time you decide to order food and have a bit of fun, there, sweetheart.” Your eyes shoot open wide, immediately understanding why Eddie approached you when he did. Your window. He leans into Steve, laughter sitting under his voice. “Stevie, should’ve heard her, she was begging for us both, sweet thing had no idea I could hear.”
Steve’s mouth turns into a smirk, watching the many phases your sweet face goes through. “That true? You thinking of us both at the same time?”
By this point, your eyes haven’t even stopped switching between the two men as they leer over you. You wonder how many times this exact scenario has crossed your mind, giving you eyes as they proposition you to be the delicious middle of their sandwich. It’s everything you want, everything you crave.
Then why the fuck is it so damn terrifying?
“You got words, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, catching Steve’s eye, who has his hands on his hips, his eyes curtained by those glorious locks.
No words come to mind, except how fucking wet their gazes make you feel. You let your action speak for itself, turning on the spot to run up the stairs.
You’re halfway up when you hear the thumping of two sets of feet behind you vaguely over the loud music, giggles bubbling up your throat as you turn around the corner down the hall. Not panic, but pure excitement fills your chest as the sounds of footsteps invade the upstairs. A hand grabs yours, yanking you back to the door that Steve opens, his own room.
Sometimes it’s occupied by some random hook ups, he usually tries to lock it for a big party, but honestly if there were someone in his room, he would’ve kicked them out. He’s already hooked up in his mom and dad’s room, as barf inducing as it is, and he refuses to do so on this particular night.
Eddie is right behind you as you enter, hands already making their way under your shirt. He’s eager, his hand hooking under the hem and lifting it over your head and your arms. The cold air meets your skin, gifting it goosebumps. Your shirt hits the floor, you can hear it on Steve’s hardwood. The sound is minor in the grand scheme of things, currently focused on Steve’s lips on yours and Eddie’s hands making their way under the wire of your bra.
Steve’s hands grab at your shoulders, pulling you so you fall on top of him, Eddie giggling as he lands on the two of you. Eddie’s laughs weave with the kisses he scatters along your back, your neck, hands moving absentmindedly as he undoes the backing of your bra.
Under you, Steve’s hands delicately grab the straps of the bra and pull them off your arms. Your bra is flung across the room without a second thought, Steve palming your tits and playing with the nipples between his fingers, twisting and groping them as you mewl into his ear.
Eddie falls sideways onto the bed, the momentum knocking both you and Steve on your sides as well with him. You giggle, starting to grab at the edge of Steve’s shirt to lift over his head. Eddie flips your skirt up, his long fingers touching the fabric over your weeping pussy.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” Eddie mumbles, sneaking under the waistband of your panties, touching you softly and moving his finger up and down. “Pretty baby must be turned on, hmm?”
Steve bends down to mouth at your nipples, his silk tongue hot and magical, gently nipping with his teeth in a way that makes your blood sing.
The marvelous mixture of sensation has your head flung back on Eddie’s shoulder, writhing in their holds as they work together. One of Eddie’s fingers slips in, long and deep within you. A loud gasp fills the room as Eddie’s thumb rotates your clit slowly and watches you fall apart.
His finger hooks, working perfectly against your g-spot. “F-fuck!”
Steve licks up the mound of your breast, dirtily licking all the way to your neck, nibbling bruises across your neck. “Gonna cum so quickly, sweets?” Steve asks, teasing you.
“Feels-feels so good!” You whimper, starting to grind helplessly on Eddie’s finger.
Steve’s eyes switch over to Eddie’s, who is already watching him. He grins, eyes switching from the metal-head’s eyes to his lips before licking his own. Both men are pressed against you as they lean in, their lips connecting as you lay in a true sandwich. Wet sounds of their kisses are loud in the room, and from their body language it gets heated fast as Eddie moans behind you, his fingers not resting for a second.
They’re fast and relentless, a heat in your pussy too hot, too much as you’re pushed over the edge like being pushed over a cliff. It hits you hard as you restlessly wither in-between them. Steve’s mouth moves from Eddie’s straight to yours, muffling the moans that leave your mouth.
The loss is sudden as Eddie removes his fingers to pull your skirt down your ass. “You want me to tell Stevie what I heard, or you wanna tell him?”
Your lips freeze against Steve’s, eyes opening, gulping as you back away from him.
“Ooh, I wanna know, what’d you hear, Eds?” Steve asks, getting the hint when Eddie helps move you on to your back.
“Well, from what I could tell she was picturing us watching her play with herself, begging for us to touch her, begging for our cocks, begging to cum…”
Shit, he did hear everything.
“Shit, when was this, honey?”
You bite on your pointer finger nervously as Eddie tugs on your thighs, giggles spilling from your mouth. “Wednesday.”
Steve shakes his head, unbuttoning his jeans as he grins at you, Eddie settling himself between your legs. “Oh, you greedy girl.”
Eddie finishes pulling your skirt down your legs, tossing it over his shoulder as he asks, “Why?”
“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Steve asks, cockily grinning at Eddie as he pulls down his boxers, his cock springing free. “Yeah, she took my cock in the back of Family Video that day, didn’t ya, darlin’?”
Eddie quirks his eyebrow, staring up at you from in-between your legs, grinning intensely. “Oh, you are greedy aren’t ya? Maybe such a greedy girl doesn’t get her wildest fantasies coming true, hmm?”
He’s bluffing, but in your post-orgasm haze you can’t tell at all, you're just desperate for them. You protest it loudly, humming several no’s in a row.
“I dunno, maybe you can watch for tonight and we’ll let you join in another time, hmm?” Eddie taunts you, grabbing Steve’s cock and stroking it, Steve’s moan from final, sweet, relief filling the room.
You’re protesting more, resting on your forearms as you’re hypnotized by the way Eddie’s eyes are locked onto Steve’s. Okay, watching them isn’t all that terrible, but you’re already naked.
Eddie leans in, eyes still trained on Steve as he wraps his mouth around the head of Steve’s cock. You’re hypnotized by it, their constant eye contact creating an energy that is palpable. Eddie’s head tilts back, his tongue that he likes to show off so much at school lingering on Steve’s mushroom tip, reveling in the pearl of precum.
He kisses it, twisting his head to you. “Enjoying the show, sweetheart?”
You nod, grinning manically. “Very much.”
“Maybe we can take pity on her, hey, Eds?” Steve asks, also looking at you.
“Yeah, she can watch another time.” Eddie mumbles, pulling away from Steve to lean in back between your legs. “For now, I need to bury my nose in this sweet little cunt.”
That’s the only warning you get before Eddie’s long tongue slides itself against your wet folds, a hot, wet stripe sending shivers up your spine. You can’t help the whine that leaves your throat, desperate and all too happy to accept it.
Steve saunters over to your mouth, stroking himself as he observes your face. “Think you can be a good girl and take this cock down your throat?” You nod, reaching for him pathetically. You guide his cock to your mouth, the large head pushing into your mouth. His length fills your mouth, pushing right to the back of your throat. “Oh, that’s a good girl.”
A hum leaves your mouth around him, somehow dividing your attention between Steve’s cock in your mouth and Eddie’s tongue on your pussy.
Speaking of Eddie, his tongue has been slowly working, barely putting an ounce of pressure, focused on gathering up any arousal you feed him. His fingers are harsh against your thighs, the friction nearly burning as he grips you tightly. “Fuck, you taste…” he pauses, gasping and greedy, “so sweet.”
Your mouth is busy, too busy to tell Eddie how much he just needs to touch you harder, already. Your hips do it for you, grinding up as a silent question. Simultaneously, your hands move to Steve’s base, playing with his balls. Your mouth makes a wet plop, suddenly in the mood to have them up against your face. Your greedy tongue pokes out to lick at the patched hair that covers them, gasping at the sweaty musk they radiate.
Steve buckles, swearing loudly as his hand lands roughly next to your face. “Oh, my gooood, baby.”
As a reaction, Eddie digs in further, his tongue pushing into you, deliciously long and vibrating into you as he hums. The stench of sweat and your dribble fills your nose, your face slobbered and wet. Eddie places his thumb on your clit, rubbing in small circles as the more you give him, the more he takes.
He knows the smell of pussy, and your smell has driven him completely insane, like a pheromone that overwhelms any logic he once held and replaces it with you.
You gasp, taking Steve’s cock back in your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Steve’s hand curls into your hair, his thumb swaying against your cheek. You can barely focus on it, the overstimulation making that oh-so-funny feeling take over once more, swelling in your stomach.
“You gonna cum again, honey?” Steve asks, his hips moving slowly, yet picking up at an unprecedented rate. You nod around him, his cock hitting and forming a beautiful swell in your cheek, moaning around him. “Gonna fill this pretty little mouth, then we’ll pay attention to Eds over there, hmm? Bet he needs some help, hmm?”
“Might cum from her taste alone, honestly,” Eddie mumbles, working his tongue even faster, even more.
That single sentence does it for you, mouth tightening around Steve as you spill onto Eddie’s tongue, legs tightening around his ears. Steve feels as you moan around him, every part of you tensing, your mouth specifically tightening and pulling sticky ropes that jump down your throat.
It becomes too much, overflowing your mouth and drooling down your chin. Eddie kisses your thigh, lapping up the arousal that spilled to your thighs. Steve pulls out, watching with hooded and hazy eyes as your mouth stays open, tongue poking out covered in him, smiling as when his eyes drift to your throat gulping as he flows down your throat.
“Did I hear you say it was my turn?” Eddie asks, head poking out from between your legs. “Does that mean I get to feel this tight little pussy wrapped around my cock?”
Steve chuckles, his hand still wrapped in your hair. “If I’ve already had a turn, guess it only seems fair.” His thumb swipes across your chin, gathering the excess cum that gathered.
Out of nowhere Eddie pounces, grabbing Steve’s wrist and lapping the sticky substance with his tongue, making a show of it. Well, Eddie is nothing if not a performer.
Steve seems to think his turn is over, turning to the mess of clothes on the floor. “Stevie,” you whine, sitting up. Your legs feel like jelly, grabbing at the shirt on Eddie right next to you. How is Eddie still fully dressed? “Do you have lube?”
“You don’t need lube, sweets, you're soaked.”
You giggle, shaking your head. “Not what I meant, Ed.” You look back to Steve. “Hey, stop getting dressed! You got lube, right?”
“Uh…yes.” Steve startles, hands on his hips with his hips, eyebrows furrowed.
How have they not picked up on it yet? “Seriously?” You ask, switching between their confused glances. “Remember how Eddie said you’d make every fantasy come true?” They nod, you move onto your knees, undoing Eddie’s belt, and button quickly. “Well, when I pictured this, I pictured every hole being filled.”
Usually, a sentence like this would make you shy, embarrassingly so. However, the collective stare the two men give you is mind numbingly arousing.
“Shit,” Eddie mutters, sharing a bewildered look with Steve. “Well, go get the damn lube, Steve!”
Steve chuckles, moseying to the bedside table and grabbing a small bottle.
Your hands, frozen on Eddie’s half undone jeans, finally start moving again, pulling down his jeans and underpants. His cock springs out, the head an angry red. You lean forward, extending your legs backward as you lean forward to accept Eddie in the back of your throat.
Steve comes from behind him, lifting the loose black shirt he wears over his head, sprinkling kisses along Eddie’s skin.
Eddie groans, lifting his head up. “Fuck, ok, get up, need to feel that pussy right now.”
You smirk, getting off Eddie with a pop, standing up on weak legs. Eddie pulls you right against him, wrapping your lips in a sweet kiss. His tongue wastes no time to reach out to touch yours, connecting wonderfully. Eddie turns the two of you around, kicking off his jeans and stumbling over them. He falls backward onto the bed, you falling onto him and giggling like a madman.
A hand wraps around your cheeks, squishing them comically and pulling your face upward. “Kiss me, honey.”
You grin, locking lips with Steve as your body hitches up toward him. A pair of hands plant you back down, bare pussy connecting with Eddie’s gorgeous cock. The sensation makes you whine, thighs tensing around Eddies. Your hips grind helplessly, hoping it pushes him in. “Patience, sweets.”
You whine impatiently, petulantly groaning against Steve’s lips. You part from him, staring down at Eddie. “Stop teasing me, and—” your sentence cuts short, Eddie grinning in satisfaction as he shuts you up. A hushed swear leaves your throat, elongated and stuttered on the sh in shit.
Your impatience is the size of a teaspoon, hips rutting down to take more of him quicker, even though he’s at a size where you know you should take your time. “Take your time,” Eddie tuts, wrapping his hand in your hair.
“I can’t.” You whine, trying to pull him in more.
Impossibly, you manage to take in Eddie’s full length faster than you know you should. It’s still not fast enough.
A second pair of hands land on your ass, grabbing at the apples of your cheeks with harsh nails digging into the soft skin. Eddie’s hands are on your hips, fingertips under the edge of Steve’s. A cold, thick liquid lands where it needs to, a finger pushes it in, a mighty pressure added to the mix.
You whine, bucking into them and grinding on Eddie’s cock simultaneously. A mix of sounds ring out, Eddie moaning, Steve chuckling, you breathlessly gasping. “Fuck.”
Steve adds another finger, twisting and playing, watching how both your holes spasm together, how Eddie’s cock starts to move for you when your hips are jerking too much to really do anything.
Eddie gasps into your ear, groaning and border-line whimpering. “F-fuck, feel this tight fucking pussy…Jesus, Harrington, you planned on keeping this to yourself?”
Steve doesn’t answer right away, inserting a third finger and grinning at your high-pitched reaction. “With how good it feels, can you fucking blame me?”
“How many times you pictured fucking me, sweets? Good as you thought it’d be?” Eddie asks, voice guttural.
“S-s-s-so much better,” you stutter, whining in the crook of his neck.
Over your shoulder, Steve winks at Eddie, and it gives Eddie the warning to pause his movements to allow Steve to enter. The pressure of the head against the hole is so good. “Fuck,” you whimper, gasping desperately.
If there’s anything you’re willing to admit, it’s that you never knew you could feel this good, this full, it’s a shame it took this long, really. The stupid part is, Steve isn’t even halfway in. Your jaw drops, hands tensing and curling and toes twitching, so many little muscles moving instantaneously.
“You okay, sweets?” Eddie asks, whispering sweetly as your gasping grows in both depth and volume. You frantically nod, the sweat fierce and intense.
“More.” You beg, the only word that can possibly make sense to you.
However small, however faint, Steve heard the plea and pushed in more. Your jaw drops, leaning onto Eddie’s bare chest with your elbows and staring at Eddie’s darkened, brown eyes. He’s pretty, too pretty.
You adjust, and yeah, lube definitely needs to be used in this bullshit, it makes it feel so much better. “More,” you whimper, twisting your body to look back at Steve to see his reaction as he pushes in one last time.
The awkward twist of the body is worth it to see how his jaw drops and eyes close, followed by his head falling back in bliss. “Fuck, both your tight little holes are so good, honey.”
“What a good girl you are, love, god you take cock so well,” Eddie compliments you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
Steve’s strong hand sways across your ass, caressing it fiercely. “Like she was made to, isn’t it,” he adds, hunching over your build to kiss the bare skin.
Your toes are curled, your whole-body tense, eyes closed as you lie in the sandwich that contains the three of you. Good. God, it’s good. The goodness that it is starts to trail down your cheeks, trailing off your chin. “Good,” you whimper, trying to look at both of them at once. “G-good. Move. Move,” you act restlessly, hands moving without a destination in mind, hips bucking anxiously with no such success.
They work in tandem, their hips synchronously moving together, both rolling their hips perfectly. Steve twists his arm around your torso, extending as he wraps his hand around your neck, fingers beautifully spread, choking the little air you have out of your lungs. Eddie stares up at your face in awe, holding your hips fiercely while his hips buck up.
Steve’s hand awkwardly spiders up your jaw, letting go of your neck to hook a thumb in your mouth and rest his fingers on your chin.
As a reflex, you start to suck on it. “What a pretty slut we have, hey, Stevie?” Eddie asks, admiring your pretty mouth wrapped around Steve’s thumb.
“Thirsting over her little holes being filled, taking it so well, fucking right, she is.” Steve agrees. He yanks his thumb out, using the same hand to lightly slap your ass.
You moan, loud and stuttered, and guttural at the sting of pain that just adds more to the pleasure. “Fuck!” Steve chuckles doing it again, harsher this time.
Eddie’s arms wrap around you, pulling your tits against his chest. He pulls you in for a kiss, dirty, and filled with spit. Steve slaps another time, harder than the others, you yell into Eddie’s mouth as a direct response. Your lips stutter off Eddie, whining desperately at the marvel.
“Whore.” You whine out, desperate.
“Oh, she wants to be called a whore, does she? Well she certainly earned it, didn’t she?” Eddie mocks, voice only a little bit strained. Eddie surges forward, slapping your ass harshly, igniting a yelp from you from the unexpected sting. “Sorry, Stevie, I wanted in on the fun.”
Steve grunts out a moan, “Of course, after all, our whore loves it, doesn’t she?”
They start to move faster, Eddie’s hips more jagged, Steve’s hips in a rolling pattern, both cocks fucking you in a way that is simply too good to be true.
That seemed to be the common theme for the night, good. While fantastic, amazing, wonderful, beautiful, are much better synonyms, good is the only word simple enough to reach your brain. Maybe the stream of tears trailing down your face are stealing the strong words from your vocabulary, maybe it’s the cocky look that sits on both their faces. Maybe it’s the wandering hands.
“Gonna cum.”
“Oh, make a mess for us, sweetheart.” Eddie commands, planting wet lips all along your jaw, neck, shoulder, anywhere he can reach.
Steve slips his hand around your thigh, placing two fingers on your clit. “Wanna feel this tight little hole as you cum, yeah? Gonna see our baby make another fucking mess.”
The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming every nerve you have. Gasps leave your throat, high pitched and too much. “Cum all over me, baby.”
A feeling you’ve never had, a high you’ve never reached, comes into play, forcing you to push something you didn’t know you could. “Oh, I’m gonna—”
A gush overwhelms the heavy breaths that are coming from both Eddie and Steve. Your vision is flooded with stars, writhing in their collective hold.
It takes you a minute to recover from it, both men’s hips slowly bucking in, slowly hips rolling and swaying. You still look like you need time when you choke out, “Fuck me! Fill me up, please, please, please?”
“Of course, whatever the pretty girl wants.” Steve mutters, hands gripping onto your hips as he fucks into you, matching the relentless pace Eddie was already at.
“Jus’ like that, jus’ like that~”
“Oh fuck, keep begging like that, honey.” Steve encourages you, grabbing harshly against your scalp.
“You better be as close as I am, Harrington, or this will be embarrassing.” Eddie warns, only half joking with how desperate his moans sounded.
“Fill her up with me?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” Eddie answers, grinning manically. “J-j-jesus christ!”
The symphony of moans as they fill you up in both holes is music to your ears, something you never thought you’d hear. You do your best to memorize every note, every consonant, every vowel, to commit it to memory.
The world freezes as three sets of lungs attempt to catch their breath. Hands gracing over any skin they can touch for a gentle caress. Caresses lead into kisses on skin, wet and comforting in the best way.
You can’t tell how much time passes as the three of you fall over into a three way spoon, cocks still keeping you good and full.
“Did so good, honey.” Steve praises, petting your hair and skin.
“Good girl, such a good girl for us.” Eddie adds, unable to help his hand fluttering over to Steve’s hair, as well.
Your gasps turn from whimpers to hums, accepting every whisper of appraisal with an overly satisfied grin sitting on your face. They pull themselves out eventually, you moan at the loss as your spaghetti limbs sprawl on the bed. “Gonna grab you some water, honey,” Steve whispers, planting a kiss in your hair.
“You need a bath, sweetheart? I know for a fact it fits the three of us down the hall.” Eddie asks right after him, yanking a pair of his jeans on.
You nod, head feeling heavy on your neck.
Eddie scoops you up in his arms, carrying you down the hall. As the tub fills with hot, soapy water, Steve comes back up the steps with a cold glass of water to the bathroom. “Drink up.”
In Steve’s corner tub, you sit on Eddie’s lap, arms wrapped around him absentmindedly as Steve climbs in across the two of you. They spend their time washing your body, the hot water, and bubbles soothing and gentle as ever. It feels so good, so nice, it hurts to think it will end soon.
Your hormones must’ve been wild, because the tears fall down your face as you start to think about how badly you don’t want this to end. They’re worried, asking what’s wrong as they worriedly reach one another’s eyes. “’M selfish.”
“Why you selfish, sweets?” Eddie asks, tilting your chin up to him.
“Cause…cause I don’t want this to end…having both of you...it’s too good.”
Eddie and Steve share a glance, the both of them knew from the start it wasn’t just a one-time thing. “Who said this was going to end?” Attempting to reach your eyes with his.
“What?” You ask, a beautiful flicker of hope in you.
Eddie’s arms tighten around you, hand reaching in to kiss your cheek. “It’s nowhere near over, baby.”
“You’re too good for us to let you go, honey.”
“Really?” You ask, now a tad skeptical. “You’re going to let me be selfish enough to have both of you?”
“Please.” Steve chuckles, eyebrow furrowing at the crash down the stairs. “If anything, we’re the selfish ones, honey.”
Selfish.
On a regular day, it’s hard not to feel completely selfish. But when there’s two enticing and captivating voices telling you that’s not possible, you forget the word even exists.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr
taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420
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say-al0e · 2 months
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Breathe
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Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!
Summary: Blowing Steve in his car. That's it, that's the plot. (Ft a prompt someone requested a million years ago, sorry!) Warnings: Oral (M Receiving), kind of exhibitionism (in his car in the woods); that's about it. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.6k
There were only a handful of places in all of Hawkins where you and Steve could truly be alone.
Though Steve spent most of his time unsupervised, parents away and large house left empty, that rarely meant you were left to your own devices. If anything, it often seemed to mean you were bothered more frequently.
Dustin knew where to find the spare key and, if it moved, had no problem picking the lock on the sliding back door. The break room at Family Video was a no-go because Robin was never very far away and there were cameras - those were tapes that Steve never wanted Keith to see. And it seemed that no matter where you turned, there were children demanding rides or friends lamenting the lack of entertainment in Hawkins.
Steve’s car, parked at the edge of town - away from Lover’s Lake and Skull Rock, the first places bored deputies and your gaggle of adopted children would look - was the only place you could find a moment of something resembling peace.
The dim moonlight filtered in through the window, filled the front seat and illuminated Steve’s side profile as he sat in the driver’s seat. It cast shadows across the bridge of his nose, glittered in the warm brown of his eyes - highlighted the fond amusement that brightened his eyes, his near natural state of being these days - as he waved a Twizzler between quips about Dustin’s latest adventure.
“Little shit called me at midnight,” he huffed, eyes narrowing as his gaze fixed on something in the distance. “If I have to drive him to, or pick him up from, Munson’s trailer one more time, I swear I’m gonna make him start biking. I feel like I’ve turned into a fuckin’ taxi service for wayward teenagers.”
Steve swore he hated complaining - rolled his eyes any time he was forced to listen to someone else drone on about this inconsequential concern or that one, though most concerns seemed inconsequential after facing Hell time and time again. He’d promised that complaints were off the table for the night, that neither of you would talk about work or the kids, but you’d been sat at the edge of the woods, parked in his car in the dark, for nearly an hour and he’d done little else.
“I had to wait nearly an hour last week.” You knew that - he’d left you waiting at his place, lying on his couch half-asleep - but that didn’t stop him from huffing once more as he reached for another Twizzler. “Who does this kid think he is?”
The complaints - generally good-natured, never malicious as neither of you would trade your relationship with the kids for anything - were not new. Neither was this thing between you and Steve. There was a base of friendship, a closeness you’d shared for years, that made the transition from friends to more a little easier.
To know Steve was to love him, and love him you did. 
Being able to reach out and touch him, fingers brushing the soft cotton of his t-shirt or gliding along the rough denim of his jeans as you watched a movie without pulling a questioning glance from him; being able to lift your head and nuzzle your face in his neck, lips pressing to his heated skin any time you wanted - it was maddening in the most wonderful of ways.
Every moment you spent with Steve, full of half-hearted complaints or laughter or rare moments of reflection after all you’ve endured together, was worthy of appreciation - even the moments you’d rather not relive. But before you could redirect his complaints into something else entirely, a groan tore you from your pondering.
Steve frowned, slumped in his seat and brought his hand to his eyes as he rolled his neck. “I think I’m getting old,” he declared, sighing heavily before turning his head to face you.
With a surprised laugh and a roll of your eyes, you reached out to steal the candy from his hand. “You’re twenty, Stevie,” you reminded him, “you’re not getting old.”
“I’d agree with you if we lived anywhere else,” he acquiesced with a thoughtful frown, “but I think all the fights are catching up with me. I totally get what all those old people mean when they say they know it’s gonna rain because their knees hurt.”
There was something so endearingly serious about his complaint, concerned about the state of his body after years of sports and fights and supernatural dealings, that you couldn’t help the soft laughter that filled the interior of his car. It mingled with the soft music, joined Steve’s own easy huff of amusement - happy to make you laugh, to see your smile - as you shook your head once more.
Despite the heat blasting from the vents, a hint of January chill still managed to invade the cozy space. It reminded you that a whole world existed out there, beyond the comfort of the bubble you and Steve so infrequently were allowed to venture to, and you sighed as you traced the slope of Steve’s nose - the curve of his jaw, the plush of his lips, the soft set of his eyes as he returned your studying easily.
“You’re kinda pretty, Harrington.”
Even in the pale light, you could see the soft pink dusting his cheeks as he waved a Twizzler as if to brush away the compliment. “And you have been really quiet tonight. What’s up?”
Part of you wanted to tease him - remind him that it was difficult to get a word in edgewise with his dozens of complaints - but the larger part, the part that fixated on the beautiful boy sitting beside you, decided to lean across the seat and press your lips to his.
Steve tasted of artificial strawberry, soft and sweet, and hummed a noise of pleasant surprise as he dropped the candy and lifted his hand to cradle the curve of your jaw. Warm fingers splayed across your skin, tugged you closer - eager to have you near, to have his fill of you - and you let him. 
Kissing Steve was an experience you swore you would never take for granted. Now that you’d gotten a taste of him, you were hooked. His embrace simultaneously set you at ease and engulfed your body in the most pleasant warmth. Being at the center of his attention still felt just as exciting as it had in the beginning; it was indescribable and, though he could sometimes get distracted, you savored the moments you had him entirely to yourself.
The warmth of his fingers bled into your skin, warmed you from within and shielded you from the bitter Indiana cold, and you eagerly melted into him. It wouldn’t be long before his hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the soft material of your sweater, and you couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped.
When you broke the kiss, desperate to take a breath and selfishly eager to catch sight of him, Steve exhaled a stuttering breath. As expected, his cheeks were flushed pink and there was a dazed look in his eyes that took a few quick blinks to shake before he fixed you with a curious look. “Not complaining,” he began, eyes dipping back to your lips, “but what was that for?”
Without thinking, you mirrored his touch - lifted your hand to his cheek, brushed your fingers along the stubble lining his jaw - and hummed. “You looked pretty and I’ve just missed you, is all.”
Steve frowned, a confused little furrow between his brows as he inched himself closer. He tipped his head to meet your gaze, no longer entirely captivated by your lips as he considered. “We’ve seen each other every day this week,” he reminded you, never stopping the soft stroke of his thumb across your cheek.
Though Steve was confident, a flirt by nature, he sometimes had a habit of taking things literally. So, instead of taking offense, you bit back a smile and hummed.
“I know.” While you both worked during the week, you still saw one another most days - on lunch breaks, after work, in the mornings when you allowed him to go out of his way to pick you up - but you hadn’t spent more than a few moments alone between Robin and the kids. So, you emphasized, “I’ve still missed you.”
“Yeah, I -“ Steve cut himself off with a sharp inhale as your hand fell to his thigh, fingers raking over the denim. He always ran warm, even in the winter, and you could feel the heat radiating off him as the muscle tensed beneath your touch. “Oh. Oh, yeah, I’ve missed you, too.”
As he shifted, eager to be closer now that your intention was clear, you bit back your laughter and leaned in to press your lips to his once more. 
The longer you spent with Steve, the easier it became to see his true self. Though he could be suave, flirty and confident, it was clear that he was nowhere near the Casanova he once pretended to be. Beneath the hair and the charming smile, he was eager - excited to love and be loved in return - and you were glad to give him all the affection he could want.
Though you were content to spend the rest of your night kissing Steve, you had every intention of taking full advantage of the precious alone time. As his hands began to wander, falling from your cheek to your neck - slowly beginning to glide down in search of warm skin - your hand drifted higher. 
When your fingers brushed at the seam of his jeans, nails raking over the zipper, Steve made a pleased noise that made you eager to hear more. Every brush of your hand, every ounce of pressure applied to the growing bulge in his jeans, had Steve shifting his hips in search of more. 
Riling him up was easy and he never left you guessing how he felt. With each experimental swipe of your hand and eager press of your mouth, his kiss grew more intense. And while you would’ve taken the time to tease him on any other occasion, it had been long enough that you were desperate. So, without preamble, you popped the button on his jeans and tugged at the zipper.
Steve broke the kiss then, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he glanced between your face and your hand. “Shit. I’ve really missed you.”
With a playful roll of your eyes, you shifted in the passenger seat - attempting to get closer - and leaned in to nip at the hinge of his jaw. “Bet you say that to all the girls.” When he laughed, you hummed. “Your fault, though,” you reminded him as you slipped your hand into the denim and palmed at his length. “Your adopted kids keep interrupting us.”
“Even the babysitter deserves a night off.”
There was a self-satisfied smile on his lips when you laughed and you made no effort to tease him for the eager lift of his hips as you pushed past the final layer of fabric. There was a time for teasing and a time for quick release; though you wanted nothing more than to watch him fall apart completely, you would take what you could get in the moment.
Later, when the world managed to quiet around you, there would be time. You would be able to enjoy him completely, alone in the home that no longer felt cavernous when you used it as your escape, so you gave him exactly what he wanted. 
Though Steve expected a preamble, a teasing grin or laughter as he hinted at exactly what he wanted, you were more eager than he seemed to be. The moment he lifted his hips, you helped him nudge the denim down enough to free his cock. And instead of lifting your hand, spitting into your palm and beginning to work him up as he’d come to expect, a choked gasp escaped his mouth as you leaned in and traced the vein running along the underside of his shaft.
Warm brown eyes burned into your skin, watching your every movement as you wrapped your lips around the tip and lapped at the bead of precum. 
As you pressed yourself impossibly closer, ignoring the ache in your side and the uncomfortable press of the console and seatbelt buckle to your skin, Steve’s noises of pleasure made the time spent apart almost worthwhile. There was never any guesswork when it came to his pleasure, never any doubt that he was just as enthusiastic - if not more so - about the encounter as you. And his warm groan sent a jolt of pleasure down your spine as his hand fell to your head.
When you began to bob your head, setting a quick pace, Steve sighed. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminded you, fingers tangling in your hair as you pressed yourself closer and closer - a reminder he’d given you since the first time. “Just like that, honey.” He never pushed, never asked for more than he felt you were happy to give, but any time you decided to push yourself, he made sure you knew just how much he appreciated it. “So pretty, so good. Fuck.”
Steve swore, his hands flexing as he fought the urge to press - to lift his hips and control the pace, something you would’ve encouraged were it not for the confines of his car and the uncomfortable position you found yourself in - while you swallowed around his length. It was quick, eager and messy, not as common now that you knew one another so intimately. But you were delighted by the huff of your name and the moan that followed as you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes.
The week without intimacy left him desperate, eager for a release, and you knew that he would come sooner rather than later as his hips began to shift in search of your mouth. Any distance was too far, any pause too long, and you squeezed his thigh as you felt his body begin to tense.
There would be time later for him to return the favor - and you knew that he would return it with great enthusiasm - so you had no qualms about hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him as you urged him to fall off the edge without a second thought. 
As you hoped he would, Steve came with a groan - a sound that fanned the flames already lapping at your skin, left you overheating in your knit sweater - and you hummed encouragingly as you helped him ride it out.
When you pulled away, lifted your head and swallowed, Steve readily pulled you in for a kiss. His hand returned to cradle your jaw, keeping you as close as he could for a long moment, before he allowed you to pull away. As you rested your forehead against his, he fixed you with a searching look.
“I’m totally in love with you. You know that, right?”
Steve made it a point to tell you often. “You might’ve mentioned it before. Always good to hear, though. Wanna take me home and show me how much?”
A limited as your alone time could be, there was little stopping Steve once he set his mind to something. So with a grin and a final kiss, Steve buttoned his jeans and gestured for you to buckle your seatbelt before he set off in the direction of his house. He was right; even the babysitter deserved a night off every once in a while.
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Author's Note: I didn't realize it until right this moment but the last birthday fic I wrote was also giving a favorite character a blowjob in a car so. Don't know what's up with that.
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teyamsatan · 9 months
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^^^ this right here??? made me slide up a wall in need. now imagine dilf!jake, cause that's all i can imagine. enjoy x
wc: 660 words
smut under the cut, minors DNI 🔞
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You loved days with Jake, you really did. He was a good leader - strong and fearless, compassionate and patient, he made everyone feel secure and at ease, made everyone feel included and heard. You loved training with him, hearing him talk, watching him listen. You loved his demeanour and his wit, and how he sacrificed so much and lost a planet and a bond to his own kind in order to protect yours. He was a good mate - considerate and thoughtful, funny and giving, he made it his life purpose to make you happy, and you appreciated him every single minute of your life.
You loved days with Jake… but nights… Eywa, the nights were the best, and you had a perfect example as of why right now, laying sideways on the bed, your head pushed so far back, it was resting in the crook of his neck, drawn out moans and skin slapping together the only sounds you could hear in the quiet of the dead of night. You haven't slept through the night once since meeting Jake. How could you, when more often than not, after a thorough fucking, he loved to fall asleep with his cock still buried deep inside of you, loved for the feel of your tight cunt and smell of your scents mingled together to be the last thing on his mind before he passed out for the night... or at least for a few hours, until you inevitably woke up, needy and desperate once more, grinding on his half-hard length until he was rock hard once more, his body unable to resist you, even asleep as he was.
Now, here you were once more, three orgasms in, crying as he slipped in and out of you with ease, your cum and slick allowing him to bottom out in you, bulging up the skin of your lower abdomen. He loved to sneak his hand from your hip, where it was rested in order to pull you further down his length, and reach around and press on the spot, until you squirmed and whined, until the tears flowed freely down your face into your ears.
"You feel how deep in you I am, angel? That's daddy's cock pushing your pretty skin up, mm? You're taking it so well, aren't you? Always so good for me."
"D-daddy... pl-please!"
His words pushed you closer and closer to the orgasm you knew would take you out for the night, the intensity of the last couple of hours taking a toll on your mind, until you were just a mess of words and incoherent babbles, drunk of his cock and the soft kisses he was peppering on the back of your neck. You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.
"What do you need, baby? Need daddy to let you come on his cock?"
His thrusts sharpened momentarily as he was hitting the spot that made you see stars and cry out in unadulterated ecstasy, until you were sure the whole clan could hear how well the Olo'eyktan's mate was getting fucked night after night. Right now, you couldn't find it in you to care.
"There you go, baby girl. Come for daddy so he can fill you up, mm?"
The promise of being marked by him, of his cum dripping out of you and down your thighs for days to come was enough to push you over the edge, and you came, making a mess of the mat, that needed to be changed daily anyhow, as you squirted all over him, gushes of warm liquid mixing with his own, and, spent and filled to the brim as you were, you allowed him to pull you closer and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you drifted off to sleep.
"Daddy loves you, sweet girl."
You knew, and yet, you couldn't wait until tomorrow night, when he'd more than willingly prove it to you again.
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somebody sedate me honestly
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ja3yun · 2 months
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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.2
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brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), oral (f. rec), protected sex, fingering, pussy drunk!hoon, praise kink, pleading, angst, mentions of lack of self-belief, confrontation, overthinking, anything else lmk! ch.2 synopsis: your guilty conscience takes over and you have no choice but to end the fleeting romance you had only yesterday, but as your connection gets stronger, you fight an emotional battle within yourself. wc: 12.5k+ previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! thank you so much for all your love on the first chapter, i am overwhelmed with your kind words. this is a chapter that helps understand the connection between ynhoon. after this chapter it's kinda full throttle with plot so enjoy the smut and tiny bit of angst. feedback, likes, reblogs, comments are all welcome :)
Walking into Belmore after your Uni classes the next day felt icky. Before your conversation with Minhee last night you were on cloud 9, looking forward to seeing Sunghoon again, but now all you feel is guilt, not just to Minhee but to Sunghoon too.
You’ve essentially led him on, promised him a next time that you couldn’t give him. But why was this so hard for you? You only spent approximately 4 hours with the boy which isn’t even half a shift you do at work on a Thursday. 
He pulled you in, something is magnetising about him, you just can’t shake off. If you phoned Rina right now she would tell you how stupid you sound, you can practically hear her voice in your head telling you ‘he’s just a man, Y/N.’ and you know she’s right.
But jeez, when he kissed you it was like a switch flipped from fancying him to needing him; and in more ways than just his touch. 
Sunghoon probably wouldn’t be affected anyway, why would he? He could get any girl he wanted.
The sound of Coach Lee shouting bellows around the rink once you enter, he’s a lot harsher than Coach Kim, more stern and direct with his words. Just this morning when you were at Minhee’s training his coach apologised for raising his voice when he landed late so to see Sunghoon’s coach red in the face was new to you. If it was you on the ice you’d curl up into a ball and cry if he ever spoke to you that way. 
It doesn’t bother Sunghoon though, listening and adapting himself per instructions. His ice skates glide across the rink in his sleek Puma training joggers and tight-fit Gymshark pullover. He’s usually wearing this or something similar when he trains but now you’re taking in how truly beautiful he looked even in something as simple as this.
“Sunghoon you’re missing a whole rotation how many times do we have to do this?” Coach Lee yells as the skater lands from his supposed to be triple axel, “Can you screw your head on and fucking focus.” 
A feeling of protectiveness comes over you as your eyes fall to Sunghoon. He’s getting aggy with himself and the Coach isn’t helping. It doesn’t make sense that he can’t do a triple, he could do them in his sleep at this point.
With his hands on his hips, he glides back to his coach and mother, his demeanour heavy with a burden you can almost feel radiating from him. The slope of his shoulders and the downturn of his eyes speak volumes, signalling an impending storm of reprimands and disappointment. Though their words are lost in the distance, you can sense the tension hanging thick in the air.
Sunghoon does a lap around the ice and as he sweeps around to the side you’re sitting at he spots you taking out your study supplies as you watch him. When your gazes meet for the first time that day he smiles diminutively at you; it’s not like how he smiled yesterday, he was so vibrant, and now it's like someone sucked the joy out of him.
Now that you think about it, you usually miss his official training sessions, by the time you get to the rink it’s just him on his own, so this environment is new to you.
As time flies by, you’ve highlighted approximately 2 sentences in your textbook and written one reference - not your best work but you make do. It’s hard to focus on studying when all you’re thinking about is him and suddenly the 4 marketing P’s weren’t interesting to you anymore. Not as interesting as his lips, or his tongue, or the way he found the sweet spot on your neck almost in an instant, or how beautiful he looks flying through the air right now. Your 4 P’s all start with Park Sunghoon.
“Go cool off for a minute, Park. Come back when you’re ready to take this seriously. Nationals are 3 fucking months away and you’re skating like my fucking 2 year old.” Sunghoon grunts as his coach yells at him again, walking off and into the changing room.
He throws himself onto the bench next to his stuff and leans his head against the wall, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck is going on with him today?
You.
You are what’s wrong with him, he can’t think straight when you’re running laps in his mind like it’s a sport and you’re aiming for first place. It’s so bad he even dreamt of you last night, you were in the crowd of Nationals cheering him on, and when he won you ran onto the ice and kissed him so passionately that if his alarm hadn’t woke him up then you both probably would have given the crowd an R rated celebration that made the ice melt. He hates his alarm more than ever before.
His fingers trace his lips as he recalls the kisses you graced him with last night. Sunghoon doesn’t have an addictive personality but he’s in dire need of your lips right now. 
After about 5 minutes since Sunghoon disappeared, your phone buzzed twice. Taking it from your pocket you see 2 new messages.
No.1 Ice Skater 🧊🤍:
5:26pm: come to the changing rooms
5.26pm: leave your stuff 
When did he get your number? And when did he save him under that name? It doesn’t really matter because this is your chance to nip whatever this relationship is in the bud. You didn’t want to do it but for guilty conscience's sake and Minhee, you would.
As instructed you leave your study stuff behind and quickly walk to the back, hoping Mrs. Park doesn’t get suspicious. She’s scary when she wants to be and if she saw you meeting her son in an enclosed area she’ll flip the fuck out.
You hate the changing rooms, they’re dreary and off putting, couldn’t he have asked to meet you outside or literally anywhere else? 
Pushing the door open cautiously, you find Sunghoon seated with his elbows propped on his knees, his head hanging low in an air of despondency. His prized black skates lie discarded on the floor nearby, a stark contrast to their usual gleam of victory.
Should you tell him you aren’t going to see him again right now? Looking at the boy like this makes it seem cruel to add another level of dismay his way. But he won’t care too much, right? It’s like you’ve been saying, or rather convincing yourself; he could get any girl in the world. 
“Sunghoon?” Slowly, you close the heavy grey door behind you to minimise the noise, scared that someone will know you’re here! “You text me? When did you get my nu-”
Too busy shutting the door you don’t see Sunghoon abruptly stand up and walk over to you like he’s on a mission. He is on a mission and it’s exactly that which has your back pushed against the door.
Sunghoon’s body is pressed against yours and his mouth is attacking your lips roughly. He doesn’t answer you back, instead just moaning into your mouth. You can only kiss him back and get lost in the sensation you’ve been eagerly wanting since last night. 
But you came in here to stop this from happening again, “Hoonie, we need to talk.” The level of your voice is barely above a whisper, you don’t want to stop this, not right now and not in the future. 
Like a man depraved he doesn’t listen, the mix of frustration oozing off his body due to pent-up rage from training and the urgency he’s feeling just to taste you again is all too much. 
“Been thinking about you all night,” Messily and sloppily his tongue licks your bottom lip and dips into your mouth when you groan out his name, exploring every bit of you that he can, “Next time couldn’t come soon enough, Sweets.”
He won’t tell you that last night he thought about you when he got home, wanking himself silly to the memory of your weight on his lap, his mind replacing the image of the machine that got your pumping actions with his cock. And then this morning he imagined you in the shower with him, how he would almost drown just to have a taste of your pussy. 
Mind racing with every kiss and grinding of his hips into yours, you start to forget what you need to say to him, your legs mirroring how your brain was as they wrapped around him. All prohibitions about being with Sunghoon slowly fade into the distance.
“Fuck I need you so bad, Y/N. Let me have you.” Honestly, you would rather not do this in a sweaty changing room but right now you’ll do it in a bin lorry if it means his hands are all over you. So you nod and he takes it as the green light to unzip your jacket and push it off your shoulders, “I don’t have a lot of time, Sweets, and I'd love nothing more than to take my time and kiss you from head to toe but they’re gonna look for me soon.” 
Despite knowing that this should be the moment to put an end to it all, to disentangle yourself from him and confess that you can't continue this affair? Situationship? Fun? Whatever you want to call it, you find yourself unable to resist the pull of desire and longing.
"I know, it's okay," you say softly, reflecting your own urgent need. "I'll take what I can get."
Your admission mirrors his own desperation, igniting a fire within him that he can't ignore. The knowledge that you feel the same way he does fills his heart with an inexplicable warmth, setting his body on fire.
Slithering down your body, his mouth hangs open and you can feel his warm breath even over your clothes. His nose is being pushed up by your stomach, that's how close he is to you. 
His fingers grip the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down swiftly. Your pink panties with white hearts on them take him by surprise and you flush with embarrassment, “I didn’t think anyone was going to see them.” You confess. If you had known you were going to have Korea’s Ice Prince centimetres away from your vagina you probably would have opted for something more appealing.
“You’re so fucking cute, Sweets.” He smiles up at you, maintaining contact as he places a kiss on your stomach, going down in a neat line until he plants his mouth over your covered clit. 
The eye contact is insane, Sunghoon is one of if not the most confident people you know. None of your other male ventures even bothered to look at you, rather settle for a quick backshot, so to have Sunghoon, even on a time limit, make sure you know how much he wants you is crazy.
He runs a finger over your underwear and feels the wet patch you’ve made. It entices him to dip his finger in to see how soaked you are, “Sweets you’re fucking melting.” He brings the finger to his lips and sucks up your essence, moaning as he does, “I can’t wait anymore.” His voice is low.
Sliding your underwear down you kick them aside and before they can even hit the cold ground a few steps away, Sunghoon grabs your calves and puts them over his broad shoulders, using his strength to boost you up. The height you’re at almost reminds you of the Zamboni, however the sight below you is much more ethereal than resurfaced ice. 
Sunghoon effortlessly supports you, your legs dangling over him as he positions himself precisely to devour you. His hands hold you steady against the cold metal door, and his breath warms the gap between your thighs. The sensation drives you to instinctively raise your hips, inviting him closer.
"So fucking pretty," he whispers, sending chills down your spine. As he begins to lap at your core with his tongue, you can't help but clutch his hair, your fingers tangled in the strands as you grind into his face. Despite your peculiar position, you have an undeniable sense of trust in him, knowing he won't let you fall.
Overcome with how you taste, he doesn’t even register your fingers in his hair, pulling at it harshly when he circles your clit with his tongue. You’re so wet as he slurps you up but there’s so much it’s dripping onto his chin. It serves as motivation to keep going, to pleasure you as much as possible. 
Sunghoon isn’t scared to admit it, he gets pussy drunk so fast. The way each one is different in taste, he can get lost in folds for hours. The longest he’s gone down on a girl was 30 minutes before she tapped out, he didn’t even know it had been that long, to be honest. 
He wishes he could spend that amount of time on you right now, but he’ll have to deal with the time he has in these circumstances. He’s already been gone 20 minutes, 10 more minutes and Coach Lee will come looking. That means 10 minutes to get you off..
Sunghoon’s tongue runs itself along your entrance and it makes you buckle, pushing his head in further. Smiling, he continues his effort, making you a panting mess. His tongue was a gift from whoever is above and you’ll need to thank them later because you don’t think, no, you know you haven’t once felt as good as you do now.
Dipping his tongue in a few times helps him gauge how tight you are, you’re going to fit so perfectly around his cock. Even with just his tongue, he can feel you squeezing, “You’re amazing, Sweet, a goddamn dream.” 
His appraisals are sending you closer to the edge. You didn’t know you liked the words of affection until now. You should have guessed you would have some sort of praise kink considering your whole life has been about making sure people can be proud of you. It’s embarrassing to admit, but maybe all those psychologists are onto something with the parental issues being linked to sexual desires.
Your clit is suddenly being simulated by his nose, it poking at it slightly the more bountiful he inserts his tongue. It feels otherworldly, “Hoonie, s’good, so so good, shit.” Your fingers harshly massage his scalp as you wiggle, close to cumming.
He knows it too, you’re dripping so much it’s leaking from his chin and onto his top. It’s so fucking hot how you’re a mess like this, just for him. Sunghoon knows that if you’re close, he can’t change his pace unless you ask him to, so he’s flicking his tongue into you, utilising his nose to prod your nub, and just a few seconds later, you’re coming undone. 
“That’s it, Sweets, doing so good for me.” More praise, it’s driving you crazy. 
As you cum, you bite your lips to hold back the noises that you want to scream from your chest, well aware that anyone could walk by and catch you both. The man between your legs doesn’t let up, however, his mouth still working you through your orgasm and causing you to push his head back, “Sunghoon you need to go back.” But he doesn’t listen, rather, he makes eye contact with your puffed-out clit and attaches his mouth to it. 
Coach Lee or his mum could walk in right now and it still wouldn’t stop him from getting you off one more time. Hell, the world could be burning around you and he couldn’t give two shits, he needed more of you.
His legs and arms were getting tired of holding you up though and if he planned to get back out on that rink and nail his routine he would need to put you down from his shoulders. Such a shame because your thighs crushing his head like this is transcendental. 
Moving slowly down he bends his legs and you get the hint and hop off. You think he’s finally giving you rest, parting ways with you, but once he finds himself on his knees, almost like he’s praying to you for more, “One more, let me do one more.” He pleads but he doesn’t wait for an answer, diving into your pussy once again. Manhandling your legs he pushes them open to give him better access to your aching clit. 
Sunghoon’s biting your button softly, licking to heal it if he goes a little too hard. He loses control sometimes like that but it’s nothing you’re complaining about, even if it nipped for a second his flat tongue was making you forget. His mouth seems to always make you forget things.
His hands rub up and down your shaking legs as he stimulates you into another orgasm.
Is he really going to make you cum again? The answer is yes he is, and quickly too. It took him 4 minutes approximately after your last one to get you pouring over his face again. He’s magic.
“Holy shit, Hoonie,” Your body is starting to crumble beneath you, the weight of you suddenly too heavy to hold up. But you have no choice, you need to gather yourself because you hear a familiar aggravated voice shout down the hall.
“Park Sunghoon you better be doing some serious reflecting if you’re gonna be gone this long. Get your pretty boy ass back to this rink. NOW.” 
Tapping his head urgently you try to bring him back from his drunken state, “Hoon, you need to go before he comes in here.” The panic in your voice brings him out of his daze but Sunghoon’s demeanour doesn’t mirror yours. 
He places a few lingering kisses on the side of your lips, “You drive me crazy, can’t concentrate out there because of you,” Coach Lee’s footsteps are getting heavier the closer he gets to the changing room you’re both occupying, “Meet me after training? I’ll drive you home.”
His composure brings a sense of calmness, soothing your nerves despite the urgency of the situation, "You're going to be here forever though, not exactly having a good day out there," you remark, your hand reaching up to wipe his mouth clean of your essence, much to his dismay.
In an instant, you've shed the panic and meekness you displayed just moments ago, reverting back to your playful and teasing self. You’re back to being his usual Y/N. 
Grabbing your chin he holds your head to look at him, “It’s because you drive me fucking delirious, Sweets. You’re all my brain can think about, I just told you that. Are you going to take some responsibility?” 
Your scoff gets interrupted by banging on the door. 
“Shh, stay there.” Sunghoon maneuvres you to the side so you’re behind the door and pulls the door open, coming face to face with his coach, “Sorry, I was trying to get over this mental block, let me grab my skates and I’ll be out.” All while he’s speaking, his left hand has yours in his, stroking reassurance into you with his thumb.
"You have 2 minutes, and then I want you back out there doing this routine flawlessly, do you understand?" Coach Lee's voice interrupts the intimacy of the moment and instills a sense of urgency in the air.
"Yes, sir," Sunghoon replies, making a sharp salute before closing the door behind him. Turning back to you, his expression softens: "So? "Let me take you home?" he asks his hands still tied with yours.
As he speaks, it dawns on you just how risky his actions were. You're still naked from the waist down, your pants lying in plain sight by the door where Sunghoon carelessly tossed them. Yet, despite the gravity of the situation, his touch manages to calm you down, just as it did yesterday.
“I’ll tell you what,” You retrieve your bottom half clothing, Sunghoon shamelessly biting his lip at the sight of your bare ass, his mind briefly entertaining the idea of risking the 2-minute warning. “If you do this routine perfectly—so perfectly that your coach is elated—I’ll let you drive me home,” you propose, shimmying your leggings on. Fixing your gaze on his, you add, “And if you can manage it quickly, I’ll let you have your way with me in the backseat. Deal?”
Sunghoon’s mouth hung open as he nodded, not taking his eyes off you while he bent down to grab his skates. He is so glad he kissed you yesterday. 
Hurriedly, he approaches you, planting one last kiss on your lips. “Better pack up your uni stuff, Sweets,” he murmurs, his voice laced with anticipation, “I’ll be done in 10.”
__
You make your way back to your belongings, glad all of it is still there. Not that anyone would steal it, but you can’t ever be too careful.
Once Sunghoon dashed out of the changing room you waited a couple more minutes to make it less conspicuous, hoping people would have either not noticed you had gone at all or thought it was one long bathroom break. Your shaking legs as you walked back to your seat were an indicator of what just happened, luckily for you, you kept them tame.
Imagine if you walked into that changing room and stopped it, telling him you couldn’t because you were too loyal to your brother. Can you deny yourself this chance to explore the connection you and Sunghoon have? 
“There we go, that’s the skater I trained! One more full run-through, Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon skates beautifully, hitting his jumps and landing them perfectly. Amazing what good pussy will do to a man. He’s smiling, knowing that if he does this last run perfectly, he gets to whisk you away and have you bouncing on his cock like he’s dreamed about. 
Thank god athletes pop random boners when they train or else he’d have some serious problems trying to explain what's got him so excited.
As he nails his consecutive loop jumps he almost giggles as he makes eye contact with you, your smile is soft and it makes his heart beat quicker which is alarming considering it’s already hammering in his chest. Throwing you a wink and biting his lip, Sunghoon gears up for his axel, if he hits this it’s plain sailing and he can look forward to you fucked out in his car.
Like the showman he is, Sunghoon does the triple axel perfectly and wipes his forehead as if to say ‘no sweat’. His confidence is so sexy, you could feel yourself getting turned on again. Your body was aching for his touch, and it was soon to get it.
You can see Coach Lee clapping and shouting praise, opposite to how he was 40 minutes ago. But Mrs. Park doesn’t look happy; her arms are crossed and her lips are bitten thin. She’s disappointed, you know that look because it’s the exact same look your mum gives Minhee. 
How could she not be at least a little elated considering her son just nailed his Naitonal level routine flawlessly? 
Because he didn’t get it right the first time. That’s why.
As Sunghoon finishes his routine and faces his mother, he braces himself for her reaction. "How did I do?" he asks, hopeful for even a shred of acknowledgement.
But her response is cold and dismissive. "I'm going home, Coach Lee. Thank you for your continued hard work," she says without a glance in her son's direction, her lack of praise cutting deeper than any criticism.
Sunghoon's heart sinks as he watches her walk away without a word or a second glance. It's a familiar scene—one that stirs up the protective instinct that had surged in you earlier. Seeing his vibrant smile fade into nothingness speaks volumes. It meant this had happened more than once. 
“We’re going to work on your facial expressions because you can’t be smiling like that at Nationals,” Coach Lee clapped his hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder, “You did good, Kid. Whatever the fuck you did to get out of your rut worked wonders.”
As Coach Lee's words sink in, Sunghoon nods slowly, acknowledging the feedback before skating off the ice to put on his blade protectors. "Thanks, Coach," he mumbles quietly before making his way to the back to hit the showers.
You observe his defeated posture, his shoulders slumping with each step. It's evident that he's trying to take it all in stride, but the weight of disappointment hangs heavy on him. You can't help but empathize; after all, you understand all too well the sting of not feeling enough, having experienced similar treatment from your own mother.
Remembering how Sunghoon lent you support just yesterday, you feel compelled to reciprocate. It's only fair to offer him the same kindness and understanding in return. 
A text comes through as you start to pack everything away.
No.1 Ice Skater 🧊🤍: 
6.32pm: Meet you at the car, sweets 
6.32pm: :) 
Quickly, you shove everything into your bag and walk to the parking lot, saying goodbye to Miss Barbara on the way out. You’re trying to stay as chill as possible like you weren’t about to have unabashed car sex. 
The lot is empty except for 3 cars, Sunghoon’s - obviously, Coach Lee’s, and Miss Barbara’s. All of them inside so no one would see you perched atop Sunghoon’s car hood, anticipating what was to come.
10 minutes pass and the main door of Belmore swings open, Sunghoon is now dressed in wide-legged jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and his signature coat, the one that kept you warm last night. He looks so beautiful and he’s thinking the same about you.
Seeing you sitting on top of his car hood with your legs swinging lightly has his heart swelling. You look cuter than anything he has ever seen with your coat up to your ears. He wasn’t in a good mood but even just the sight of you was enough to get a smile creeping on his face. 
His mum had put him in a sour state, her inability to show any praise made him feel shame and disgust in himself. He should have just got it right the first time. 
You outstretch your arms and open your legs, inviting him to slot his body between yours which he gladly does. Sunghoon’s arms slink their way around your body, his forehead resting on your shoulder, the faux fur from your hood tickles his nose but he doesn’t care, and you run your fingers in his hair. No words have to be said, it’s like you know each other so well already, so interlinked with one another that you think you would have been together for years. 
“You did amazing, Hoonie,” Looking into his eyes that have been drained of life once again causes you to kiss his lips softly, trying to bring back some of the Sunghoon you had the honour of witnessing yesterday, “I’m so proud of you, so so proud.” 
If his mum couldn’t do the decent thing and make him feel special, you guess you will, “You looked so pretty out there, I think that was your best triple I've seen.”
“Y/N you don’t have to-”
“You’re like a dream on the rink, I’ve always thought it,” Kissing him between sentences to silence his protests seemed to work in easing him, “You’re made to be on that ice, Hoonie.”
He could cry. He won’t because that’s not who he is but as you speak he can feel his throat tightening up. Even if you were only pandering to him, he needed to hear these words. It meant more to him than you would ever know.
"Sweets," He pauses, his eyes shaking as he looks at you, "I think I'm meant to be right here." It was an unexpected confession, one that went beyond the surface level of the words shared.
It’s scary for Sunghoon to be affected like this so quickly, you feel the same, it’s like one of those far-fetched romance novels where the two main characters fall for each other instantly. No, it’s not love, not for any of you, however, there is an attraction between both of you that transcends lust and superficial attraction, it’s soulful. 
He brings you closer to him, the right side of his mouth upturning slightly, “About that backseat action you promised.” You laugh and nod as his eyebrows wiggle. He didn’t want this to turn too deep, scared of opening up something inside him he wasn’t ready for you to see. 
“Well, what are you waiting for?” You jump off the hood and open the front seat. It puzzles Sunghoon because he thought he was going to have your legs spread across the back of the car, “Get in, trust me.” And he does just that, settling himself into the driver's seat awaiting your next move.
With everything that has happened today, he needed a little looking after, no matter what it took. Once he is comfortable you do one last glance to make sure no one is looking before following him in, straddling his lap. Shocked by the sudden presence of you on his lap he holds you still, “Sweets, it’s easier if we go bac-”
You pull the lever beside his seat and it lounges back, his eyes widen a little as you take complete control. He isn’t used to this, he has been the one to lead in every possible outcome in his life. To see you take the lead a little is turning him on tenfold.
“You looked so ethereal out there, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” You take off your coat and throw it over to the passenger side, “You are so mesmerising.” And you didn’t just mean when he skates. As he lays beneath you he looks like a prince, sculpted by a god.
Kissing down his neck, your lips mutter sweet praises into him and you become acutely aware of his heart beating a little harder than before. Whether it’s because you’re on his lap and pressing down on his dick, or because for one of the first times in years, he’s receiving lionise for simply being him.
"You're so kind, you'd do anything for anyone. You helped me so much yesterday, and you didn't even need to," you say, gently pushing his jacket off his shoulders as he removes it, clumsily tossing it in the back.
"I wanted to," he whispers, his confident self fading into a shy vulnerability.
"Because you're beautiful inside and out," you murmur, grazing his neck with your lips, eliciting a low groan from Sunghoon. His hands find their way to your waist, holding onto you tightly.
The air in the car crackles with electricity, each touch fueling the growing intensity between you. As your lips meet in a hungry kiss, there's no turning back. Sunghoon sits upright, pulling you closer as if trying to fuse your bodies together.
“Sweets, I need you right now.” He pleads, his hips lifting to show you how much he truly craves you, his hard on brushing through the thin material of your leggings.
His hands push down your bottom half clothing, panties and all, and you try not so gracefully kick yourself out of them, the car horn honking loudly, “Shit.” Way to ruin the mood.
Sunghoon is laughing, his thumb circling your sides to comfort you, “You okay, Sweets?” Muttering a ‘yeah’ you shuffle up a little, “So fucking cute.” It came out without a second thought and as low as a whisper but he couldn’t help it, the way you froze up and your eyes expanded at the fright you gave yourself had him clutching his heart. 
A rosé tinge spread across your cheeks and neck, blushing at his compliment. To regain some sense of control, you take his hand and guide it down to your entrance. Even the slight touch to your core makes you instantly soak his fingers.
It’s as if the prints of his fingers have buds the way he can taste you in his mouth again like his tongue is still in between your folds from earlier. His middle finger runs up from your hole to your clit a few times before sliding one finger into you, testing how tight you are.
Your hole sucks his finger in as he explores your walls, looking for a reaction of any kind. Sunghoon prides himself on ensuring his partners get the ultimate pleasure, even with a quicky. That much was evident when he was devouring your pussy not even an hour ago. 
As his finger presses against your soft spot, you gasp quietly, “There she is.” He presses it repeatedly and you grip the headrest behind him, “C’mon Sweets if you’re going to grab onto anything, make sure it’s me.” With his free hand, he takes your wrists one at a time and puts them on his chest. You instantly bunch up his t-shirt and cling to him.
Now he’s got you like putty in his hands, quite literally, you’re unable to think about anything other than the wave of heat coursing through your lower half, and as he adds a second one, you heave out a low ‘fuck’, you press your hips harsher into his hand, his palm rubbing your still slightly overstimulated clit. 
You look so beautiful right now, Sunghoon can’t tear his eyes away. The way you feel on his fingers has his dick twitching, leaking a little into his boxers. He had to have you.
“Are you sure about this?” He wanted you to be one hundred percent positive because he knows what having sex with him means, and as much as he doesn’t want to say it, he understands if you say to stop and leave it here. Your mind is a wonderful but cruel place, the overthinking of your guilty conscience could spiral, he knows that much.
“Positive. So, so positive.” Kissing him softly seals the confirmation. Right now you don’t care about anything else but you and Sunghoon. 
Withdrawing his fingers leaves you chasing the feeling of being full, your hips following his hand, “What? Are my fingers enough?”
“Fuck no,” You lean down and kiss him again, your tongue swiping into his mouth, proving how starving you are for him. 
He leans forward as your hands weave in his hair, trying to open the glove compartment but he can’t reach, your body obstructing him, “I need to grab a condom, Sweets.” He barely manages to get the sentence out, your lips constantly on his, “Reach behind and get me one, yeah?” But you aren’t listening, lost in his mouth and how his tongue feels dancing with yours. 
Sunghoon laughs, “Y/N the sooner you get me one the sooner I can fuck you. That’s what you want isn’t it?” Okay, now the words are registering. You couldn’t spend one more minute without knowing what he feels like inside you. 
Twisting to open the glove compartment you see a bunch of little things that tell you more about Sunghoon. For one, he had 3 bags of Skittles, a lighter, his insurance and other documents, and a bunch of Durex. Like there was a lot.
The boy under you pears to see what you’re looking at, his big hands still rubbing up and down your waist, “The lighter is my friend Jay’s, he always forgets one.”
Shaking your head you pull out 2 full strips of condoms, “How lucky do you get?”
He could lie and say he’s drowning in girls, but that would benefit no one; you’d feel like another conquest and he would look like a colossal prick. Girls always throw themselves at Sunghoon, especially on campus and although he could have his pick of anyone, he doesn’t have the time. He fucks, of course he does, but he doesn’t need it, so it’s not a priority. Not until now that is. 
He thought it was so strange how his roommates would come back with people nearly every night or talk about how many times they’d been laid in the week. Turns out most guys are like that in Uni, but Sunghoon’s never had a normal young adult experience has he?
“I uh, I just bought them.” He says, eyeing up the packets, “I put some in the car for…y’know, this”
You raise your brows, “Oh? You already thought I’d put out?” 
“I didn’t think so.” He takes one of the strips and rips one off, tossing the others back in the compartment, “I knew it.”
This arrogant son of a bitch.
“You are so,” You scrunch your hands in front of his face, balling them up. Rather than hitting him you just go back to kissing him, he might have been infuriatingly cocky, but fuck did you want him.
Sunghoon smiled into the kiss, knowing he didn’t actually presume anything was going to happen, not right now anyway, he just loved to rile you up a little.
Pulling back from the kiss he looks you up and down, “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” And you know he means it because as you stare into his eyes they have only thoughts of you painted in them. 
Unbuttoning his jeans, he fails to notice you strip off your top, leaving you practically naked in front of him bar your bra. It was strange how comfortable you felt to be so bare with him like this.
You hover over him as he shimmies his bottoms and boxers down just enough for his cock to poke out. When he looks up, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you in all your glory. "Jesus fucking Christ," he murmurs in awe, his hands instinctively finding their way to your breasts, squeezing them firmly yet tenderly, his fingers teasing your nipples.
As you look down, you admire his length laid against his t-shirt, his cock already flushed with arousal. He's big, as you had suspected from his tall stature and lengthy limbs, but seeing him in the flesh is a delightful surprise. You can't wait to feel him buried deep inside you. "Where's the condom?" you inquire, eager to take things to the next level.
“What?” he asks, his sole focus on your tits. 
He is definitely a boob guy, “Condom, where is it?” You look expectantly at him, waiting for him to hand you it but he doesn’t, looking around him.
It’s here somewhere, he literally just had it, but he’s wasted enough time and his patience has worn thin, “Just grab another one from behind you.” Laughing lightly, you do as instructed and grab another one. 
While you’re bent backwards and twisted to reach behind you, one of his hands slips between your legs again, stoking your centre, the pussy before him was glistening and inviting so who was he not to please it? The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, arching your back a little when he slips his fingers back in shallowly for a minute, just to tease you, to have you more desperate than you already are.
Shakily, you rip off another condom and open it, holding the rubber tightly to ensure you don’t drop it. You need him now.
You push his hand away, ironically whining at the loss you just caused but it’s for a good reason, a very good reason. Gently, you take hold of his long shaft as it leaks some pre-cum onto your hand and slips the condom on, pumping him a few times to make sure it’s secure. The action earns you a moan from the boy under you who is just happy to have some contact. 
His hands deftly pull down your bra, allowing it to rest just under your breasts. "Your tits are literally perfection," he murmurs in admiration, his words sending a shiver down your spine. A giggle escapes your lips, but it quickly morphs into a small moan as his mouth latches onto your left breast, his hand eagerly reaching for the other.
His teeth graze your nipple, drawing out a gasp from you, followed by a trail of hot, wet kisses. His tongue flicks over your sensitive flesh with precision, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself groaning louder than before, amazed at how effortlessly he's able to turn you on.
You've never experienced this level of pleasure from someone playing with your tits before, but with him, it's like they have their own set of buttons, and he's an expert who's intimately familiar with every page of the manual.
Detaching from your breasts, Sunghoon can’t wait to be inside you any longer and lifts you up as you guide his member to your entrance, collecting the wetness you’ve been dripping onto him since you took your pants off. Your knees are a little sore due to the edges of the seat digging in, but as you sink down onto him, your weight shifts to sitting on his lap creating double pleasure.
His cock buries itself fully into your hole, filling you up to the brim, Sunghoon’s head falls back onto the headrest as your walls squeeze around him. You feel amazing, like nothing he’s experienced before.
There isn’t a lot of room to bounce so you settle for shallow movements, arching your back and lifting your hips as high as you can. What you don’t know is that it’s causing Sunghoon’s tip to drag a certain way in your core that is driving him crazy, “Sweets, you’re so fucking tight, when was the last time someone fucked you?” 
It wasn’t a serious question, more rhetorical, but you answered anyway, “A month ago.” 
His hands grip your ass harshly and spread your cheeks apart while he starts to guide you to go a bit faster, “I’d never leave you that long,” He opens his eyes to look at you, “I’d fuck you every chance I could get.”
“Why don’t you then?” You wistfully say in the moment but it sparks something in him.
Snapping his hips up to match your rhythm sends you both reeling, “You want that? Want me to fuck you wherever and whenever?” All you can do is nod frantically, your hands splayed on his chest, pussy clenching at the thought as you both steam up the car windows, “Yeah? One word and you can have it. Say please.”
Sunghoon smirks and you open your mouth to speak but one sharp thrust has you falling forward, letting his hips piston into you as he holds you close against him. He wants to tease you, edge you a little, but he’s so close he didn’t want to wait much longer, “C’mon, say pretty please.”
"Please, Hoonie, pretty please," you plead, burying your face into his neck, feeling a flush of embarrassment at how shamelessly you're begging for his touch.
"Please what? Tell me what you want," he responds, his fingers digging into your sides as he picks up the pace, thrusting deeper into you with each movement.
Your mouth hangs open, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps as he drives his hips forward, relentlessly hitting your g-spot over and over again, "Please make me cum," you moan, unable to hold back your desperate plea.
His movements falter for a moment, taken aback by your direct request. It wasn't what he was expecting you to say because that wasn’t his question, but he doesn't mind one bit, "You want to cum?" he asks, a hint of excitement in his voice as he continues to pleasure you.
“Yes, yes, please. I need to cum so bad.” You have never in your life acted like this before, so needy and desperate. There is a high possibility that you’ll be embarrassed once you snap out of this euphoria but right now he could make you say or do anything. As long as his cock is inside you, you are at his mercy.
Sunghoon picks up the pace, legs straining under you while he grabs your ass again and lifts it, doing your side of the work for you, “Cum on my cock, Sweets. Do it.” He’s just as desperate as you for release and with your hole hugging him tighter and tighter he can’t hold back much longer either.
Burrowing your head further into him, nose squished against his neck so you can inhale his shower gel, you start convulsing around him, your breathing ragged as your cum coats the condom, dripping out past your entrance and onto his thighs. You can’t remember the last time you came this hard that wasn’t from your own doing. He was magical.
Following suit, Sunghoon spills into the rubber, stomach twitching as he holds you down forcefully onto his lap so you have no way of popping off him. The feeling of you was too good to let go, not right now. His hips relaxed back into the seat, chest falling up and down as some time passed. He feels so good like he’s just placed gold, and by the smile on your face, he guesses that you feel the same.
The car is filled with panting from both of you. You can feel his cock still pulsing inside and it matches your beating heart. Sunghoon’s hands are roaming over your sticky body as he sits up and kisses all over your chest and neck, his eyes shut to heighten all his other senses. He thrusts up a few more times before lifting you off his softening cock. 
You don’t want to be empty again, he filled you up so good, so you slip back onto his cock, “Sweets, what are you doing?” He keeps kissing along your breasts.
“5 more minutes.” You say. It’s not that you want another round per se, you just couldn’t get enough of being full of him, “Just give me 5 more minutes before you get post-nut clarity or something.”
“What the fuck is post-nut clarity?” Sunghoon questions. He’d never heard of it in his life.
You wipe some of the sweat atop his thick brows and sigh, “You know when guys cum and then they think you’re ugly after it?” 
To say Sunghoon is offended is a trivialisation of how he actually feels. Is this what women think after they have sex? It’s preposterous in Sunghoon’s eyes because how could any man find women, especially you, ugly after the way you looked coming undone right in front of him, the way your jaw slacks as short pants leave your mouth, and the way your hair sticks to your face so dishevelled yet exactly where it’s supposed to lay. 
"That's fucking stupid," he declares, his voice barely above a whisper as he cups your face and presses a tender kiss to your nose before tucking your hair behind your ears. "Whoever came up with that just couldn't get their girl to cum."
As you lock eyes with him, your heart skips a beat, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "You're so pretty," you confess, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
“Yeah? Did you see yourself in my eyes?” He smirks, feeling proud of himself for the terrible line he’s just cast.
You light-heartedly slap his chest and roll your eyes, “You are so cheesy, oh my days.” He just lets out a small chuckle while he pulls your bra back up to its correct position, a little disheartened that he’s covering up his new favourite obsession.
Kissing your shoulder, he works his way up your neck and along to your mouth, smothering your lips with his. Sunghoon was aware that he had to get you home, not unlike yesterday, unless…
“Does your brother have practice tomorrow morning?” If he could get you to stay with him tonight, he could fuck you till the cows came home and that sounded like a far better plan than letting you go.
Sitting back, you give a tight smile and nod. "Yeah," you reply, the disappointment evident in your voice. But Sunghoon can't help but smile at your response, knowing that despite the circumstances, it means you want to spend more time with him the same way he does, "I better get going soon actually."
The pout that forms on your face is an invitation for him to lean in and peck your lips quickly once more just to let you know he really doesn’t want you to go, but he understands. The time he’s spent with you was too short, especially considering the hours he got to be in your company yesterday, he wanted to be with you more each time he spoke with you.
Lifting yourself off his lap, his cock slips out of you and its softened state lays to the left of him, condom filled and you’re a little jealous it’s not your pussy filled with his cum. You really need to stop getting jealous over everything that gets to speak or touch Sunghoon, especially inanimate objects. 
“Sit there a minute, Sweets, don’t put your stuff back on yet,” He says as you plop yourself onto the passenger seat, obediently listening to him. Sunghoon peels the condom off and places it briefly on the dashboard while he gets his bottoms on. In one swift movement, he opens the door and runs to the bin with the used condom to dispose of it and quickly comes back to his car. You’re still sitting in nothing but your bra waiting patiently for him, just like he asked. 
Reaching for the compartment on your side he pulls out a pack of wet wipes and takes one to help clean you up, separating your thighs to gain access to your pussy, “I’m just going to clean you up,” Sunghoon swipes the wipes along your thighs and through your folds, clearing your of any of your juices while making sure to be gentle around your sensitive areas. 
The act made your heart race. Is it the bare minimum? Probably, but how many men have genuinely treated you this decent, especially after a quickie in a car? He isn’t even being sexy about it, focusing on the job at hand as his eyes make sure he cleaned you up properly. Just like with his condom, he walks to the bin with the wipe.
You quickly put on your clothes and as you reach down for your t-shirt, Sunghoon hops back into the driver seat, looking at you mournfully, wishing you would always walk around with just your bra, or better yet, nothing at all. His wank bank is going to be filled with your tits from now on, “I wish you didn’t have to go home,” Sunghoon confesses and you feel a sting in your chest.
“Me either, Hoonie.” He doesn’t say anything after that, instead, he buckles up and starts the journey to your house.  
The drive isn’t awkward, there is just a longing silence, like time has been cut too short. Unfortunately, that’s just the way it is. In your mind, you’re both lucky to even have these moments together considering your circumstances.
Minhee. 
That culpable feeling you hold lurches its way up your chest and into your throat. It’s like you forgot the whole purpose of going to the changing rooms to speak with Sunghoon was to tell him you couldn’t see him anymore. But how can you still say that after the way you both just connected? Sure, it was sex, but the feeling you both had during your time spent together was unimaginable like you had waited your whole life to touch him, to be with him like that. There is no way you can just leave this here.
There is that saying about how you can’t have your cake and eat it too. Your mind is so conflicted the same as last night but now it’s even worse because you spent more time with Sunghoon. In hindsight, it would have been a clever option to stop him before he gave you the best head of your life, but the damage is done.
“Sweets?” Sunghoon’s low voice brings you back, “We’re here.” Turning to your right you see your house illuminated, meaning both your brother and mum were home, to be fair it was only just after 8pm after all. 
“Thanks, Hoonie.” Just as you’re unbuckling your seatbelt he pulls you in for another kiss, his hand cupping your cheek to pull you closer. When you feel his tongue swipe past your lips and into your mouth, all your worries melt away. It's reminiscent of the intimacy you shared in the changing room, but this time, you find the strength to pull back, resisting the temptation.
Sunghoon notices the wheels turning in your mind and reaches out to you, his voice filled with earnestness. "Y/N, whatever you're thinking about, please don't," he says gently, sensing that you might be overanalyzing what just transpired between the two of you. The last thing Sunghoon wants is for this to be the end, for this to be the last time he gets to see you and touch you this way.
“I need to go.” You say softly, not paying much attention to the pleading look on his face as he studies you.
He tries to say something as you get out of the car but you don’t bother to listen because if you did, you know you would simply cave and go back to him. Dashing into your home, you take your shoes off and regretfully hear Sunghoon’s car pull away.
Sleeping should surely clear your head, right?
Wrong.
The next morning when you awake in the wee hours before your alarm, you hear Minhee scooting about to get ready like usual, he’s quiet but with the silence of the world at 5am it’s natural for every little thing to sound amplified by 10. You could probably get another hour of sleep but decide against it, you’d only be more tired.
Peeling the covers from your body, your feet hit the ground as you twist out of bed and head down to the kitchen. Minhee is pouring himself some store-brand cornflakes, his favourite since he was a kid. Smiling softly, you grab the milk for him out of the fridge and slide it over the counter, but when he looks up you aren’t met with his normal loving eyes but rather stern, fierce ones. 
“You’re up early.” He states matter of fact, unscrewing the cap to pour his milk into the bowl. 
“Just woke up, we’re leaving soon anyway so.” You trail off, scared to ask him what’s wrong. Hopefully, it’s a simple case of the morning grumps that happens on occasion when he had a late night of studying, “Where is mum?”
He forces the milk back over to you, pushing it so hard you nearly don’t have a second to catch it, “She’s not coming.” 
Huh? But she always comes to his practices. You wait a while, waiting for him to elaborate but he doesn’t, choosing to leave it there and take a bite of his breakfast. What is going on? Something is severely off this morning. Did they fight? Nothing seemed strange when you came home last night, yet again, you weren’t really focused on your surroundings. It’s not a secret that Minhee is a little scared of your mother, the whole momager thing only seemed to work for the Kardashians. 
As you go to find out more he speaks, “Mum left the car, she grabbed an Uber. I’ll drive but I got class after so I can’t take you home.” He stops mid-motion, spoon sitting stagnant in the bowl, his jaw grinding, “Maybe Sunghoon can give you a lift home. I see he does that now.” 
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit. He saw you last night. How?
The realisation hits you like the wicked witch being flattened by Dorothy’s house in Wizard of Oz; Sunghoon dropped you off right outside your house rather than a few blocks away like last time. 
Fuck, now you have to think about this - do you confess to what’s happened the last couple of days, or lie? But he always knew when you lied, he had that sibling radar which has been a pain in the ass for years. Like when you broke his signed Hockey stick from Kim Sangwook, he knew right away it was you that snapped it in half because you were too busy flying it around, pretending to be the pro athlete you could never be.
Minhee doesn’t look at you so he misses the panicked look on your face, maybe you could play this off as no big deal. Don’t mention the fact that he ate you out in the changing room that he uses, and certainly don’t mention the quicky in the car, “W-what do you mean?”
The question makes Minhee raise his head to look at you, face even fiercer than before, “Don’t fucking start,” He was angry, like, super angry, “I saw that cunt’s car outside last night.” 
Okay, so feigning ignorance wouldn’t work. You can’t even play it as if it’s someone else’s car and just the same make because none of your friends could afford a car so lovely. 
“Don’t try to lie to me, Y/N. I saw it with my own eyes. Tell me why you got out of his car last night.” His cereal has been abandoned and his posture is tense as he leans on the island.
“I went to the rink to study like I always do, he offered me a ride home, no big deal.” Although your words are dismissive, you are trying so hard to make your voice match the nonchalantness.
Minhee doesn’t even blink, “You could have said no, you have no problem walking home any other time.” He has an answer for everything and there was no getting out of this other than utter denial.
“Mini, really, it was just a lift.” 
“Y/N, let me make this perfectly clear, if I find out there is something more going on, like you’re dating him or something, I will tear him limb from limb.” A little piece of your heart falls away at his words. You knew it would be like this and now the guilt you felt has been dialed up to eighty, “Date anyone but him, Y/N. I’m so serious. I’ll kill him.” 
Swallowing hard you shake your head, “It’s not like that. I wouldn’t do that.”
Your brother looks down at his watch and breathes out through his nose, “C’mon, if you get dressed just now we can stop for that blueberry muffin you like from Gino’s.” he walks up to you, laying a hand on your shoulder, “I know you wouldn’t do that, Bubs. I just want to protect you.”
As he walks up the stairs to get his things together you can only stand there as still as plywood. Minhee really didn’t leave you with much choice on your dilemma but if there was a silver lining, at least he made the decision easier. Why did it leave a horrible taste in your mouth? 
______
Minhee walks behind you as you enter the rink, the chaos surrounding you instantly. It seemed like everyone and their granny was here today. The chatter of excited juniors and their parents mixes with the sounds of blades slicing the ice; it’s a nice pace, one of the many perks of the merge between Albion and Belmore.
As you make your way through the crowd, your attention is pulled to a group of 8 early teens lining up at the outer edge of the rink, preparing to showcase their skills in a rehearsal for the exhibition which is held in front of  Junior judges. The exhibition is a key for determining the skaters' rankings for future events and championships. It makes the absurd business of the rink make sense.
You remember Minhee’s group performance of The Nutcracker like it was yesterday, his little royal suit and white wig still sit in his wardrobe to this day. Safe to say he was always going to reach the top level.
With a smile, Minhee leads you to the edge of the rink, his enthusiasm evident as he watches the young skaters with a sense of pride, "I'm so glad we didn't miss the rehearsal," he beams, his gaze fixed on the hopeful competitors as they prepare to take the ice. Minhee had been helping them a little the past few months so he was just as excited as the parents.
“When is the actual exhibition?” you ask.
"Tomorrow," he replies, his voice hushed in anticipation, "Coach Lee and Kim have both been training them so it's a big deal." This is the first time both coaches have worked with the same group of people so you understand everyone’s fascination.
As the lights dim and the skaters take their positions, you're fully immersed in the moment, your attention captivated by the young performers; you only hope they will do well. A figure standing beside you catches your peripheral vision, though you're too engrossed in what’s going on in the rink to give it much thought.
The young skaters begin their routine, each movement executed with precision and grace. Despite a few minor hiccups along the way, including a stumble here and there, the overall performance exudes promise and potential.
They’re so light on their feet that it pits envy in your stomach suddenly. If only you could be as talented as them, or at least stand on a pair of ice skates properly. 
A hand slowly snakes into your grasp, fingers intertwining with yours. Looking up, you see Sunghoon standing next to you, filling you with a flutter of surprise. His eyes never meet yours, instead trained on the rehearsal, yet, it doesn’t stop him rubbing his thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly. 
You can’t lie, it makes your heart beat a little quicker but you are hyper-aware of the brother standing to your left who literally told you just over an hour ago that you can’t even look at Sunghoon, nevermind hold his hand. 
The performance comes to an end and the lights go up but Sunghoon still keeps a grip on your hand, turning to face you with a genuine smile. You could melt just at the sight of him.
Minhee's booming voice startles you, and you hastily pull your hand away from Sunghoon's, wiping it on the side of your leg as if trying to erase any evidence of his touch. Panic grips your chest as you avoid facing Minhee, fearful of being caught and having to provide an explanation you're not prepared to give. Lying to him this morning was already difficult enough.
Sunghoon briefly stretches out his hand, clearly missing your touch before reluctantly tucking it back into his pocket. "What is it, Minhee? Did you forget this is my rink too?" he responds, his tone steady despite the tension crackling in the air.
You silently pray for Minhee to drop the subject, dreading the possibility of a confrontation no matter how much you protest.
With a grunt, Minhee tilts his head and looks straight through Sunghoon. "You have your time and I have mine, so why the fuck are you here?" he demands, his words laced with irritation and suspicion.
Shrugging, Sunghoon smirks and leans on the edge of the rink; he looks so hot while he does it that you almost get on your knees instantly. You think he notices you wobble a little because his smug look only increases before he speaks, “Coach asked me to come in early. Probably to see if I could give you any pointers, I know you’re struggling a bunch with that toe loop.”
As Sunghoon points out a small flaw in Minhee's routine, you can sense the simmering frustration beneath your brother's composed exterior. You ponder whether the Coaches have actually discussed some of the problems your brother is having because he has been landing late on his toe loop.
You glance at Minhee, sensing the simmering frustration beneath his composed exterior. With a sardonic grin, Minhee retorts, "Yeah, because I really want advice from the guy who can't even land a quad Salchow without wiping out."
Suppressing the urge to intervene, you remain silent, unsure of how to navigate the escalating tension between the two. Sunghoon's casual demeanour contrasts sharply with Minhee's simmering anger, creating an uneasy atmosphere that seems ready to ignite at any moment.
Sunghoon's expression remains neutral, but a glint of disgust appears in his eyes before he conceals it in his typical cool manner. "If you won’t let me help you, I’m sure there are some spots left with the kids, you can run through the basics again," he responds, his tone tinged with resentment.
Minhee's temper rises, his nostrils flaring as he struggles to contain his rage, "Fuck you, Sunghoon," he spits out, his voice laced with venom, "Like I need advice from a model pretending to be a figure skater,” He scoffs and crosses his arms.
Narrowing his eyes at the insult, Sunghoon’s jaw tenses, clenching his fists by his sides. "Watch your mouth, Minhee," he warns through gritted teeth, his patience wearing thin.
But Minhee isn't done yet. "Oh, what's the matter, Sunghoon? Can't handle the truth?" he jeers, his tone dripping with derision. "You think you're so high and mighty, but we all know you're just a fraud who's riding on past glory."
“A fraud?” The boy in front of you laughs mockingly, smiling widely in disbelief, “At least I’ll make it to the Olympics next year while you’ll barely get a job scrubbing the skate plates.”
The air crackles with tension as their verbal sparring reaches a fever pitch, each word exchanged like a dagger aimed at the other's pride. You can practically feel the heat radiating from Minhee's seething anger.
With a scowl etched on his face, Minhee refuses to back down, his words fueled by a potent mix of resentment and fury. "You're nothing but a pretentious show-off, Sunghoon," he sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. "You may think you're some kind of skating hero, but in reality, you're just riding on your fame from that pretty face of yours."
Sunghoon's eyes flash with anger, his composure slipping as Minhee's words hit their mark. "And you're just a bitter, talentless wannabe who's jealous of anyone with actual skill," he fires back, his tone harsh. "You're so desperate to tear others down because you know you'll never make it on your own merits."
That didn’t just sting Minhee, but it struck you too with a horrible taste in your mouth. It’s one thing to make jabs at your brother, but you refuse for anyone to question his abilities, especially given all the challenges he's already faced.
“Sunghoon, enough,” You almost hiss at him, coming to your brother's defence like you always have, “Don’t talk to him like that, got it?” The look in his eyes softens momentarily, a flicker of remorse crossing his features.
"Got it," he retorts, his tone sharp, however, there's a subtle glimmer of sincerity in his eyes, a silent apology meant for you alone, hidden behind the facade of bravado. His eyes glance to Minhee, "Wouldn't want to upset big brother, now would we?"
“Y/N, go sit down, don’t involve yourself in this,” Minhee pushes you to the side lightly, standing toe-to-toe with Sunghoon now, “Don’t get in my way, Park,” Minhee threatens him. You shift your eyes to see Sunghoon’s expression, but it remains stoic.
Mavouvering himself around you, his hand swipes your back before grabbing your left hand and softly caressing it before leaning down to whisper, “Sorry, Sweets,” It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment which you’re glad for as you see Minhee show no reaction. Sunghoon is far too lax about you both around your brother.
You watch him leave and his eyes go back to yours, showing you his begrudgement towards Minhee and also his regret towards putting you in an uncomfortable situation. You want to let it slide but Minhee didn’t deserve to be talked down to like that.
Then again, neither did Sunghoon.
“You need to learn to get along with him, Mini. You’re both making this whole arena toxic.” You say quietly, still staring at Sunghoon.
“But-”
“No buts, Minhee. Just ignore him,” You interject before he can hit you with an excuse as to why he needs to stand his ground or some bullshit like that.
As the tension eases, Minhee finally nods in reluctant agreement, his shoulders sagging with resignation. "Fine," he concedes, though his tone carries a hint of defiance, “But if he starts something-”
“Yeah, yeah,” You willingly dismiss him, “I’m going to go grab something from the vending machine, do you want one of those naked bars for when you’ve finished?” You ask, diverting the conversation from Sunghoon. Your mixed feelings towards the boy and situation are sitting too close to the surface that if Minhee kept poking at it, you might reveal something you don’t want to, or defend him a little too much to the point Minhee will get suspicious and start asking questions. 
Minhee’s whole manner changes, “Yes, please! The orange one though,” He pats your shoulder, “I’ll see you when I’m finished, Bubs,” Pushing your head softly in brotherly affection, Minhee darts to the changing rooms, waving you off.
As he disappears, you walk back to the foyer and head for the vending machine. It’s not got much, healthy options for everything and no fun sweet treats for you but you don’t expect anything less considering you’re in a place that hosts athletes. 
Punching in the numbers, you feel arms wrap around your waist, the warmth of Sunghoon's embrace sending a shiver down your spine, "What are we eating?" his voice, velvety smooth, whispers deliciously behind your ear, momentarily distracting you from the turmoil within.
"WE are not eating anything," you reply curtly, shrugging him off as you hit your bank card on the contactless machine to pay for the snack.
"Sweets, I'm sorry I said all that, your brother just pushes my buttons," Sunghoon's voice carries a note of sincerity, tinged with lingering anger. His apology hangs in the air, mingling with the hum of the vending machine and the soft rustle of people passing by.
You exhale slowly, "I appreciate the apology," you murmur, trying not to break, "But you can't keep lashing out like that, especially at Minhee."
Nodding, he grabs the snack as it falls from its shelf, handing it to you, “Let me make it up to you, yeah? After this do you want to grab a coffee…maybe come back to mine,” He leans down so his face is level with yours, “I’ll make it a real good apology.”
Swallowing hard, you try to stuff down the urge to pull him in and kiss him right there, especially as you see his tongue swipe along his bottom lip. Your eyes are hungry for more than anything in that vending machine could give him.
But this is your chance to put things back in their natural state. 
Your chance to respect Minhee’s wishes.
“Look, yesterday was a mistake,” you turn back to the machine, feigning contemplation as you pretend to choose something for yourself. 
Sunghoon's gaze burns into the side of your head, his eyes boring into you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle with discomfort. His confusion is palpable, evident in the furrow of his brow and the slight downturn of his lips, “You aren’t seriously that mad because I was a tiny bit mean to Minhee?”
Ignoring the fact that Sunghoon is slightly blind to his earlier hurtful words, downplaying it by saying he was a 'tiny bit mean', you shrug, "It was just a bit of fun, Sunghoon," you offer, your voice laced with forced nonchalance as you try to downplay the gravity of yesterday's events but even to your own ears, the words sound hollow, lacking conviction.
Sunghoon scoffs, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek in a gesture of frustration, “Yeah it was fun, so why can’t we have more fun?” 
His persistence was annoying you a little but only because there’s only so long you can stare at the bottles on Lucozade Sport and swallow your true feelings, “There’s really no need to continue this, Sunghoon. It’s not like we like one another,” the words sting as they escape your lips.
You don’t see it but you can feel Sunghoon’s body buckle a little, unsure how to take your words, “You don’t like me because you genuinely don’t, or you’re so far up your brother’s ass you can’t see past disappointing him?”
Sunghoon regrets his choice of words as soon as they’re spoken. He knows how much you both mean to one another and how you value your relationship with him but he’s so frustrated that your brain is overworking itself into a tizzy rather than understanding how irrational you’re being by dismissing him so easily.
Little does he know you’re only following Minhee’s orders, making his accusation hurt just a little too deeply. 
You aren’t scared of disappointing Minhee, you’re scared it’ll break your sibling bond altogether. It’s complicated, only you and your brother know the loyalty you both have to one another. You’re all each other has.
“Sunghoon,” you turn around to face him, “I’m not doing this for Minhee, I’m doing this because I want to.”
Lies.
If Minhee hadn’t caught you coming out of Sunghoon’s car and warned you not to start a relationship with him, you might have reacted completely differently. But now, with your brother’s words echoing in your mind like a haunting ghost, you feel trapped in a web of conflicting desires and obligations.
Exasperation rushes across Sunghoon's face, yet beneath his hard exterior is a touch of despair. He's trying to make hide how much this is hurting him.
Swallowing his sadness, he speaks, "Suit yourself," his voice sour and sorrowful, not doing a great job at convincing you he doesn't care, "But you know deep down you're making a mistake."
With that, he strides away, leaving you standing there, grappling with his words. Despite his outward composure, you know he's wounded.
Part of you longs to call out to him, to chase after him and erase the distance that now stretches between you, and the one you created because you know he’s right.
But another part, the part that listens to Minhee's cautionary words and heeds the warning in his eyes, holds you back, anchoring you to the spot with invisible chains.
This was good. This is what you should do. This is right. Minhee told you so, he’s protecting you, that’s what he said. Trust Minhee. You chant these sentences like a mantra in your head, trying oh so hard to convince yourself you haven’t made the wrong choice.
As Sunghoon disappears from view, you can't shake the feeling that you've lost something precious, something irreplaceable. 
taglist: @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart
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kookslastbutton · 9 months
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in your arms ༓ jjk (m)
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✑ Summary: You wake up next to your boyfriend for the first time since moving in with him.
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Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x girlfriend!reader
AU/Genres: pwp, smut, fluff, established relationship, one shot
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 1,680
Warnings: cussing, jk teasing oc, soft pouty jk, of is restless sleeper which makes jk lowkey sad, sexual content
sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, morning s*x, kind of rough s*x, unprotected s*x (Don't be like them!) , d*try talk, m*ssionary, b*gging, b**b kink?, sl*t calling once (tame)
Now Playing: A Thousand Years
A/N: needed dometic koo after listening to piano guys play thousand years. I have not seen Twilight but I like the sound track lol. Hope you enjoy! 💞
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"You snore." Is the first thing he says to you, eyeing you from the other side of the bed. He's downright adorable with half his face tucked behind the fluffy comforter.
"I do?" You roll on your side. The soft linen brushing against your skin reminds you of your bare state. Last night was the first time you spent the night at Jungook's since moving in. He was a little eager to get you in his bed to say the least.
Jungkook nods in response, eyes still barely peaking out from the covers.
"But...I don't." You smile sheepishly. Many things you're known for doing in bed but snoring was not one of them. You're sure of it. "I definitely don't," you repeat in disbelief. "You're being a little shit again aren't you?"
A grin slowly spreads on your boyfriend's face—his eyes revealing all. What a menace as always. His playful spirit makes you giggle.
"Did you sleep okay?" You yawn and rub your tired eyes.
Jungkook shimmies himself closer to you. His nose is inches away from your the nape of your neck. "No," he says. "You were so far away from me the whole night."
The comforter he was tugging on earlier is now folded under his arm. From this angle, you can trace every muscle on his inked arm, so you do, with the tips of your fingers. "I'm sorry koo, I'm such a restless sleeper. I didn't kick you did I?"
Since a child you've never been able to sleep in one position. You were always starfishing, flopping from side to side, or genuinely just in the twistiest pretzel-like positions possible. Now and then you'd punch or knee at the bed too, depending how vivid the dream you were having was. That's why for the majority of your life you've slept alone.
Jungkook on the otherhand could sleep anywhere in the same position. All he needed was a good grip on his blankets or in this case, you, and he'd fall fast alseep until the morning. But you were not an easy one to snuggle with, causing him to pout until all hours of the night.
"I'm okay, but can we try cuddling or spooning again tonight? Wanna fall asleep with the girl of my dreams in my arms." Your heart does about ten somersaults. Ever since you hit 6 months, Jungkook's been begging you to move in with him and now that you've finally agreed, he's been coordinating your new living conditions down to the last detail.
He's also stopped refering to the apartment as his—it's now our apartment, our haven, our home.
You remove your hand from his arm to fluff through his messy hair. Something about the silky texture makes you unable to stop yourself. Jungkook likes it too. "Of course we can." Your face drops a few shades. "But I'm not sure if it'll be any different from last night. I might hurt you."
In that very moment your boyfriend props himself up on an elbow and leans himself over your body just enough for you to fall on your back. "No you won't," he insists. The same inked arm curls around your waist, pushing your chests together. "I'll hold ya down this time."
Your cheeks warm up from the gesture.
"What's got you blushing doll?"
"Just that you're everything I was hoping for and more." You wrap both arms around his neck, his lips ghosting over yours. "I love you so much." It's hardly a whisper but Jungkook has no trouble hearing.
"You know I was thinking similar," he says, placing a light kiss to the side of your neck. You hum. This will likely be a regular occurrence now that it's Jungkook you'll be waking up to every morning. His affection knows no bounds.
"You're all mine," he continues, tracing circles on your waist with his thumb. Even with the blankets shielding your naked body from his, you feel every imprint of his touch. "I'm all yours, too. And even if you do end up kicking me in your sleep, I'll alway be back for more because I'm in love with you....just try not to kick my dick though, that would kinda be a bummer for both of us." He shoots a quick wink and you snort.
"Sorry," you cover part of your face. "That was so ugly of me." Jungkook's heard you snort a thousand times but you've still a little self conscious about it.
"Its cute."
"Stop, you dont have to say that."
"It's cute because I like making you laugh and seeing you happy make—"
"Makes you horny." You finish the sentence, cackling at his suddenly doe-eyed expression. "I can feel your erection on my thigh Kook."
"Oh," he looks down at himself. Did he think he was being smooth and all trying to hide it and all? You're boyfriend's cute but a good liar he is not. "Well can I stick it in or not?" He looks at you again, expectanty.
"Kook!" You just had sex last night and to be honest you're a little sore from it as well as flopping around in your sleep all night.
Jungkook however is imposible to refuse with his pouty lips and big, ferocious eyes. He simultaneously wants to cuddle you to death and fuck you silly every second of the day. You ask him which he wants to do, he will always want both....at least twice in one go.
"I'll make it quick, promise. And it'll feel good too."
Once you give the okay Jungkook climbs on top of you from under the sheets. You spread your thighs, allowing him to slip in—which he easily does given the fact that he wasn't the only one all worked up.
"Fuck," he breaths above you, hands gripping the mattress on either side of your head. "Such a perfect pussy you know that? Always so wet for me."
"Yes Kook," you let out a small whine. Jungkook's dick always makes you so full so fast. "Fuck me."
"You want it huh?" He teases even though it's him who started this. "You want my big cock to stretch your tiny pussy? Make you scream? Say you want it baby. Need to hear it from you."
You concede to your boyfriend and tell him how much you want it. "Mhm please, need your cock Kook. Want it so bad, want it to make me come, please."
"Greedy little thing aren't you," he seethes, thrusting into you at a slow pace. "Just got fucked three times last night and still want more. What does that make you hm?"
"A slut." Jungkook growls when the words leave your lips. He ends up fucking into you faster, loving the sight of your breasts bounce up and down at the quickened pace. You move to grip onto both boobs but he growls again, letting you know his obvious disapproval.
"Wrap your legs around my waist," he grunts. "And don't you dare think about covering yourself up. Wanna see every bit of you."
You do as he says and he sinks further in you, cock finding that sweet spot at the same time. "Fuckfuckfuck," he chants. "So needy aren't you? Swallowing my cock like it's nothing for your pussy. Who taught you how to take cock this well huh?"
"Jungkook!" You scream when you feel the knot get stronger in the pit of your stomach. You boyfriend smirks and starts kissing up and down your neck.
"Say it again. Who taught you to take cock this well?"
"You—you Jungkook, you did. Please, gonna come soon." You claw his muscular back, knowing your high is about to come swift and fast. You hope to god he lets you come too. Last night he made you wait and wait. You had to keep begging him until he was fully satisfied. You squirted a lot and it was hot but you can't do that again so soon.
"Come for me baby," he coos. "Show me what I taught you back when all you knew how to do was give head. Gonna soak my cock now aren't you? I'm already so wet from your slick, fuck."
"Jungkook—oh god," you moan one last time before finally releasing. Your boyfriend let's out a deep, breathy groan and continues to thrust into for the sake of his own high. "Kook, please, please tell me you're close. It's almost too much."
"Shit just hold tight for me a little longer baby, I'm so close." He fucks into a few more times then spills himself into your warm cunt. You both bask in post-orgasmic blish until your boyfriend leans his head down to capture your lips. It's a bit of a sloppy kiss but still fiery and passionate.
He slips off you after a minute or two of making out, hair sticking to his forehead. "I'm so glad you said yes to moving in."
"What? You just want me here for the sex?" You pant, playful glimmer in your eye.
Jungkook shakes his head. "Of course not." You move to rest your head on his shoulder. "The sarcasm's nice too."
You roll your eyes. You'll be doing this all over again tonight. Maybe he'll be able to keep you in his arms tonight this time—you truly hope.
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A/N: thanks for reading! Lmk your thoughts 💞
Masterlist
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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reclinepilled · 2 months
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needy, e.w.
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cw: fluff!!! little angst, pet names (baby, beautiful, sweetheart, princess, gorgeous) like one curse word, reader yells at ellie, reader cries a teeny tiny bit, no masc/fem roles are established
desc: gamer!ellie is glued to her game while your patience runs short. also soft!ellie🙏.
a/n: happy march 1st guys! i wanted to share something i wrote while procrastinating some work. thanks for all the support on my last two posts. also the anon that sent in the request, im working on it <3 thank you for reading and reblogs are welcomed and greatly appreciateddd !
wc: 801 (i think)
PLEASE READ HERE ON INFORMATION ABOUT AND HOW TO HELP PALESTINE!!!
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you try not to be so needy, you really do. however, your heart can't help but get a little heavy watching ellie completely ignore your presence on one of your days off. and she's not even ignoring you to study or work, it's to play her stupid games.
sure, you played your fair share of video games, as you had an undying love for that one genre. however, you didn't come over under the impression that you'd be getting lonely in her bed, angry, while occasionally letting out a frustrated sigh. she didn't pay attention to those, too busy yelling at her friends on whatever fps shooter she was glued to.
you got angrier and angrier thinking about it and listening to her mash the buttons on her keyboard and throw insults out into her mic. you swear you can feel the annoyance in your bloodstream. you just wanted to do skincare and facemasks, watch some movies, and maybe even bake with your girlfriend. you decide to put your anger aside and give her the benefit of the doubt. you get up from her bed to remind her of what you two had planned. maybe she forgot?
"ellie, baby?" you say as you grab her shoulder softly to get her attention. she glances up at you then moves her headset off one of her ears, "yea- jesse, what the hell! he was literally one hp!" she yells. "anyways, sorry, what's up?" ellie finally gives you two scoops of her attention. "el, i thought we were gonna spend time together..," you say, shifting your weight to one leg as you cross your arms. "yea, yea, of course. just give me five more minutes," ellie says as she turns back to her game. "you literally said that 30 minutes ago, el," you sigh. "i mean it this time," ellie turns to you, doing a puppy face jokingly.
any other time you would burst into a fit of laughter, however right now, you were genuinely pissed off. you stare at her for a few seconds in silence, she stares back. her face slowly drops as she realizes you're pretty upset. next thing you know, you've reached over and put her pc into sleep mode. "y/n! why!??" she whines like a teenage boy going through puberty. "because, i came over on my day off to spend time with you, i could be getting a manicure or something.. but i've spent nearly an hour and a half watching you play this shitty game!" you yell then you walk out of her room, fed up. you grab your bag next to the couch and start to put your belongings away.
"sweetheart! i'm sorry, i really am!" she says as she follows you out of the room. you ignore her, now putting your bag on your shoulder. "look," ellie comes in front of you and softly slides the bag off of your shoulder, she notices how you're still looking down. she gently grabs your shoulders while looking down at you with an apologetic look on her face, "i am so sorry, i just got caught up in the game. i enjoy you being here, and i find your presence so comforting, beautiful. i never meant to make you feel unappreciated, i'm sorry once again." she takes her hand and lifts your face up, and notices your tear stained cheeks.
ellie's heart quite honestly shattered into a million pieces, she didn't know she made you feel so bad but she understands now. "baby, we can do whatever you want," she pulls you into a meaningful embrace while rubbing your back. "els, i love you, sorry for yelling and overreacting-" she cuts you off, "no don't apologize, it was pretty justified, i was being dumb," she lets out an airy laugh, "i love you back, princess."
she could feel you smile against her chest and it felt like 10 tons were lifted off of her back. she pulls away to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then your nose, one on your cheek, and long one on your lips.
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you straddle her on her bed while softly chuckling at the cute fuzzy animal headband you placed on ellie's head. you roll the jade roller all over her face, working in the serum you applied before. you can't help but admire how pretty she is. her constellations of freckles, each one so unique, her breathtaking deep eyes, and her long lashes you were so jealous of. little did you know, she was doing the same. you looked like a goddess from this angle, the light cascading down on your perfect figure emphasizing it. "hey baby?" ellie grabs your wrist. "yea, gorgeous?" you slightly lean back from her face, raising a brow.
"it's really hot when you yell at me."
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reclinepilled
please do not plagiarize any of my works or post them on other websites without given permission !
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ellecdc · 3 months
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Come Back, Be Here (part 2)
pt1 // pt2 // pt3 // pt4 // pt5 // pt6 // pt7 // pt8
Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 6k words
CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N
Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, but you don't seem to recognize any of them? (concept inspired by Recognition by aeaean__bliss on ao3)
Sirius entered the Potter’s cottage in Godric’s Hollow the next morning with (far too many, in Lily’s opinion) bags of your things.
My girl is not going without, Red. He’d simply said. Who was she to argue?
After a restless sleep, most of Sirius’ night was spent doggedly watching your sleeping form. He couldn’t complain; he’d certainly had worst nights and he’d happily spend the rest of his nights this way if that meant keeping you around. Once Harry was up for the day according to his parents, Sirius decided to leave you in Lily’s capable hands while he retrieved some things from his flat, and picked up some personals for you from Tesco. He had left a glass of water, more pain potion and your wand which had been in the cloak you were found in on the bedside table with a note saying he'd be back soon.
He brought the bags into your bedroom – or, the spare room, he supposed – and tried to suppress the panic he felt when you weren’t in the bed where he’d last seen you this morning.
He failed though, and he did indeed panic. Apparently, the trauma of unexpectedly losing a loved one (and then getting them back much the same way) takes longer to shake than 18 hours.
Sirius noticed a shuffling sound in the bathroom, and his rational mind told him that you were simply using the washroom and he should just wait outside, or, hell, knock like a gentleman.
The other half of his brain – the one currently driving his central nervous system - was telling him to break doors down.
He decided to choose a happy medium and pulled his wand, leaning to listen against the door. When he failed to hear any more movement, he opened it slowly. He held his breath and begged his heart to stop hammering in his chest as he surveyed the room. He moved into the seemingly empty bathroom, until he turned back towards the door and saw you hiding between the open door and the wall.
“Whoa there love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spook ya.” Sirius chuckled under his breath, holding his hands up in surrender. He tried to smile while his heart broke at the sight of the cowering girl before him.
Your hand trembled as you lowered your own wand and let out a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered.
“No, I’m sorry, gorgeous. I should have knocked.” He countered. “You got my note?”
You seemed to shake yourself and square your shoulders.
“Yes, you had errands?” You queried as you both exited the bathroom.
“That I did!” He answered jovially. “I took care of some business and sent a note to my supervisor saying I’d be taking a leave of absence for the next while. I also went shopping.”
Sirius pulled out the bags he had set behind the couch with a flourish.
“We’ve got you lots of your own clothes now, so you won’t need to borrow from our dear Lily flower.” He said, motioning towards the tracksuit spilling over your body.
You peered into the bags, and Sirius watched excitedly as you pulled the bag he had brought from his and Remus’ flat to your lap. Please remember he begged you silently.
You gently pulled out a zippered knit jumper. Your zippered knit jumper. “This is mine.”
Sirius failed to suppress a smirk. “It’s all yours, love.”
“No.” You argued. “This is mine, it was mine. Before.” You stated clearly, holding it up in front of you. Your brows were furrowed, and Sirius tried to ignore how cute you looked.
“Ah, so it is.” He offered noncommittally
Your eyes flit between him and the sweater for a few moments, and Sirius let you ponder. Please remember.
“I loved this sweater. It was my favourite.”
Sirius hummed as if in thought. “Do you remember where you got it?”
Your left eye twitched as you scrutinized the article of clothing.
“I think,” you started, grunting as if it was hard to get out. “I think it was a gift.”
Yes, Sirius thought, you can do it baby.
“Who gave it to you?”
You actually whimpered as you dropped the jumper into your lap and clenched your forehead.
“I can’t...” You started. “It’s like I know that I know the answer, but I just can’t get it.” You muttered miserably.
“Hey, hey. That’s alright.” Sirius said, removing the sweater from your lap and replacing it with his hands. He drew circles on the backs of your hands and willed you to look at him.
He continued talking when you finally met his eyes. “You don’t have to remember right now. You’re alright.”
Your eyes jumped from each of Sirius’ grey ones as if searching for the answers you were missing. He’d gladly give you all of them if he could.
Slowly, so, so slowly, you lowered your forehead to his.
This is how Lily found you both; Sirius on his knees in front of you with your hands intertwined in your lap and your foreheads pressed together. She hated to interrupt.
“Knock, knock.” She called to the room quietly. The two of you whipped your heads to face her, both blushing as if you had been caught doing something naughty.
“Hate to interrupt Pads, but I was wondering if you could help me with something for a sec?”
Sirius turned back to you and offered you a soft smile before joining Lily in the hallway.
“Well, that looked cozy.” She teased gently which was met with a very dramatic eyeroll.
“Yeah, yeah, Red. What is it you needed.”
“I spoke with Dumbledore. I haven’t told him why yet, but I asked for a Healer – one specialized in neuropsychological practice.” She trailed off as Sirius’ eyes widened in horror.
“There’s a healer coming here. To your safe house.” He managed, feeling like he might faint.
“Well, no,” Lily muttered, “you’d have to go meet her at St. Mungo’s and then apparate her here.”
Sirius stared at what he officially considered to be his dumbest friend.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He whispered as he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the kitchen. “What point of in hiding or safe house don’t you understand?”
Lily ripped her arm from his grip. “Listen, Dumbledore trusts the healer, they won’t be given the address, you’ll just be escorting them. And, I want to be here for her.”
Sirius had begun tallying up counter points but deflated at the end of her sentence. Lily didn’t miss it.
“I want to be here for her.” She repeated.
Sirius sucked in a breath between his teeth and looked to the heavens for answers. The heavens had never answered him before so he wasn’t sure why he felt disappointed when they left him on his own again.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Red.”
They were joined in the kitchen by James and a miniature version of James who appeared to have just woken up as he rubbed his eyes with two pudgy hands from his father’s hip.
“There’s the prongslet!” Sirius beamed at his godson.
“Pa-foo!” The child squealed and held his arms out for him, tiredness completely forgotten.
Sirius happily took the almost-toddler and sat him on his lap.
“Alright Pads?” James queried.
“Not bad Prongs, yourself?” He responded coolly.
James grimaced at his friend’s displeasure with him but carried on making small talk while preparing breakfast for the infant.
The awkwardness was interrupted by a light knock, but it wasn’t from the front door. Lily and Sirius exchanged a look while James took Harry from Sirius’ lap.
“Y/N?” Lily called tentatively, which was answered by the bedroom door slowly opening and exposing you.
You had changed out of Lily’s tracksuit and were wearing the zippered knit jumper and a pair of green corduroy trousers that Sirius knew he bought a size or two too large but figured they could spell them smaller, and it’d be easier to let them out as you regained some weight. It appeared you had already spelled them in, and Sirius tried really hard not to stare at how good it made your arse look.
“Awe! I remember that sweater! That’s the one you bought her for her birthday; isn’t it Pads?” Lily exclaimed, causing you to pause and Sirius to blush furiously.
You watched as James smirked and Sirius looked towards you shyly.
“Did I thank you for it?” You asked as you cleared your throat and sat at the far end of the table.
Sirius coughed before he answered. “Er, yeah. Yes, you loved it.” He admitted.
“Good. It was my favourite.” You reiterated and looked to the little babbling baby in James’ lap.
“Who’s the little one? Must be yours.” You mentioned, motioning to James.  The baby was the spitting image of what you could only imagine was his father, except perhaps the eyes. He had...
“Yes, he has his mother’s eyes though.” James admitted, smiling adoringly at Lily who shared his grin and brushed a finger across the baby’s cheek.
“Y/N, this is our son, Harry. Harry James Potter.” Lily stated.
The three friends smiled at the baby at one end of the table before turning to meet your ghostly pale face of at the other end of the table, who seemed to be looking at Harry in horror.
“He’s...” you started before swallowing, “he’s Harry Potter?”
Lily and James shared a look before Lily answered with a simple “yes.”
You looked frantically at the three adults surrounding the child.
“Is this house safe?” You demanded; Sirius was almost excited at how much like your old self you sounded but was startled by how familiar this panic of yours was. The last year you had together was spent in almost a near state of it. “Who knows we’re here?”
“What’s the matter, love?” Sirius started, standing up slowly but stopping all movements when you stood as well, wooden chair grating loudly against the floor beneath you.
“Who knows the child is here? Who can get in?”
“Y/N, please, I need you to calm down and tell us what’s wrong.” Lily pleaded, approaching you with her hands up from the opposite side of Sirius who began doing the same.
“‘You-know-who’ is looking for him. The prophecy.” You stated, eyes watering as you stared at Harry in James’ arms, who had since stood from the table and had his wand pointed at you.
“James, put your wand down.” Sirius spat as his friend as he reached you and gently touched your arm.
“Who knows he’s here? Is this house safe?” You demanded again, your voice starting to sound shrill and your breathing becoming erratic.
“It’s safe love, we’re safe. It’s okay. The house is protected by the Fidelius charm. Please breathe for me.” Sirius said as he gently embraced you and pulled your head to his chest, shielding you from the aim of James’ wand with his body.
His words seemed to work, as you let out a breath and leaned into his touch. “You’re sure?” You muttered into his chest.
“I promise it’s safe, love. I’d not let you or Harry stay somewhere that wasn’t.” He said, pointedly shooting a look at James who had finally lowered his wand.  
He relished the feel of you in his arms for as long as you would allow it. Apparently, you needed it just as much, because it was a few moments before you were finally willing to pull away from his chest.
“Vix, why don’t we go play some cards?” Lily asked, holding up a deck.
You smiled and nodded, and the two of you retreated to the bedroom, Harry on his mother’s hip. The men waited until they heard the door click behind you.
“Look, mate-”
“You pointed your fucking wand at her whilst she fretted over the wellbeing of your son!" Sirius seethed at his friend.
"Sirius-”
“She is broken James. She is not dangerous, she’s scared.”
“Sirius please, I-”
“She’s fucking terrified; Lily and I can hardly touch her, she’s afraid of her own shadow. I didn’t immediately announce myself this morning and I found her hiding in the bathroom with her wand at the ready. She escaped, bloody hell knows how, but she escaped and she’s terrified. And you pointed your wand at her!”
“I’m sorry!” James finally shouted. “Sirius I’m sorry. I’m scared too. I’m scared. And honestly, I think it’s because I’m afraid I deserve it. I feel guilty, Sirius. So. Bloody. Guilty. I couldn’t sleep for months without seeing the look on her face the moment we realized she wasn’t going to make it home with me. And I didn’t sleep at all last night because I hate myself for leaving her there and I think if she could remember me, she’d probably hate me too. And she should. She should hate me. And if she did, she’d probably want me and my family dead. Okay? I’m fucking terrified and I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” James’ finished, his chest heaving as if he ran a marathon.
Sirius huffed at his friend and felt his face heat up. He angrily wiped at it and his hand came back wet – he was crying. “Fuck” He breathed and leaned over the table.
“I’m sorry.” James whispered again.
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You and Lily played a few rounds of goldfish, rummy and big bertha. Lily asked you where you had learned to play these games, but all you could remember was that your friends at school taught you; though you couldn’t remember who the friends were. As the two of you played, your left eye kept twitching.
Lily was reshuffling the deck when there was a knock at the door.
“Hey girls, the healer is here.” James said through the door before gently opening it.
A kind witch who introduced herself as Healer Grundke entered the room with Sirius and James, who picked up a babbling Harry to sit out of the way.
“So,” The Healer started, having you sit at the end of the high bed with your feet hanging off of it, “We’ll start with some easy questions.”
You told the healer your full legal name, your date of birth and hometown, and your parents’ names without any issues.
“Very good,” she continued. “I’m going to continue asking questions about yourself, your life, your family and your friends. But I’m going to cast a diagnostic spell of your mind which should show us a scan of the locations of your brain that your answers are coming from, and if there happens to be anything interfering with you recalling that information. Does that sound okay?”
You nodded and the healer waved her wand above your head. Sirius watched as a scan of your brain materialized above you. Sirius thought it was beautiful, even though he had no idea what any of it meant. Lily appeared to be scrutinising it with much more authority whilst James and Harry enjoyed the look of the pretty lights.
“What does your father do?”
“He...he was an ambassador. He worked in government.”
“Was. Has he passed?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry to hear. How did he pass?”
“Heart attack.”
With every question and answer, lights flashed across your scan, signifying information entering and exiting different areas of your brain.
“And your mother?”
“Also dead.”
“How did she pass?”
“Car accident.”
“How old were you when she passed?”
“Fifteen.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“Half siblings, from my mother’s first marriage. They both chose to stay with their father in Canada when she relocated.”
“Where did you attend school?”
“Hogwarts.”
“Which house were you in?”
More flashes appeared on the scan.
You chuckled before giving her your answer.  
The healer averted her eyes from the scan to your face. “What makes you laugh about that?”
“I was a hat stall.”
“Were you really?” The question comes from James, which earned him a nudge from Lily.
“Yes. It was humiliating.” You said with a smirk.
“What caused the stall?” Sirius asked, though he already knew.
You looked up and to the left as you recalled your sorting ceremony experience.
“The hat probably would have thrown me into Slytherin immediately had I not been muggle-born. Small mercies that, I suppose. I wasn’t quite outgoing or extroverted enough to be placed in the house of the brave, though I had a strong sense of justice. Loyalty was one of my biggest attributes, but I wasn’t always very kind or thoughtful with my words. I wasn’t extremely bookish or the academic type, but I was witty. Apparently, I was a real mystery.”
The healer smirked at that.
“That you are, dear.”
You smiled kindly at the healer.
“Okay, where were we? Ah yes, what was your favourite class in school?”
“Hmm...”
Sirius smirked. My little swot. Can’t even choose a favourite class after all these years.
“Probably charms, or transfiguration. I really enjoyed care of magical creatures as well. Arithmancy and alchemy felt familiar and came easily to me because they reminded me of muggle maths and chemistry. I think...”
You trailed off as the scan turned an angry colour for a minute before it settled back down.
The healer looked at the scan and asked again.
“You liked charms, transfiguration, care of magical creatures, arithmancy, alchemy and...”
The scan moved again, and even Sirius could notice that a flash of light was trying to travel a path between two memories, but one appeared to be wrapped up inside of a silver-coloured orb, which caused the light that had been travelling to it to splinter and disperse.
“And, I think, uhm,” You tried again as your left eye started twitching. “I enjoyed astronomy.” You finished on an exhale.
“Astronomy.” The healer clarified.
“Uhm,” You thought again, “yes, I liked astronomy.”
“Did it cause physical pain to recall that information?”
“Yes.”
Sirius and Lily exchanged a glance.
“Where did it hurt?”
You sighed, “the pain seems to stay primarily behind my left eye. If I try too hard it becomes a pulsing pain that seems to circulate around my skull. I’m sorry I can’t explain it better.”
“No apologies necessary, this is very helpful.”
The healer was quiet for a moment while she looked through the notes.
“Okay, do you remember graduating from Hogwarts?”
You thought for a moment before responding. “I remember that I did graduate, but I don’t remember the day.”
“And what did you do after graduation?”
“I moved in with friends.”
“Who did you live with?”
The scan flashed again.
“I don’t know.” You admitted.
“Did you work?”
“I remember working. I remember fighting.”
“But...” The healer pushed.
“But I cannot remember for whom or with who was working nor fighting.”
The healer was quiet for a moment.
“Y/N, can you look at Sirius for me please.”
Your gaze moved and you held eye contact with Sirius.
“Think of a memory with him.” You were instructed.
A light travelled in the lower left scan unaffected.
“Can you describe the memory?”
A faint blush appeared on your cheeks.
“I thought of how he held me this morning, after an argument in the kitchen.” You admitted.
Sirius’ heart thumped in his chest. When asked for a memory of him, you thought of being held in his arms. I’m one hell of a lucky man.
 “Very good. Now, Sirius, can you ask her about a memory from before she went missing?” The healer in structed.
Sirius thought for a moment.
“Do you remember when we got into a fight, and you charmed my hair pink and wouldn’t reverse it until I announced in front of the entire Great Hall that I was wrong and you were smarter than me?”
Your scan flashed violently as the healer and your friends watched a light travel along a path towards the same large silver orb as before. As soon as the light met the orb, it splintered. You winced.
“Okay, alright. Now, look at Lily please.”
You looked back up at your red-headed friend as your left eye stopped twitching. The red head offered a gentle smile in return.
“Think of a memory with Lily.”
Again, they watched as a light travelled along a path on your scan completely uninterrupted.
“What was your memory?”
“She made me tea and served it the way that I like.”
“When was this?”
“Yesterday – last night. I don’t know what time.”
“Very good,” the healer said, looking at her notes. “Now Lily, can you tell her a memory of you two from before?”
Lily smirked. “What about the time we skived off prefect rounds to go skinny dipping in the Black Lake after we caught McLaggen cheating on me?”
The scan flashed violently again as the light travelled to an orange-coloured orb and splintered upon impact.
“I see...” The healer stated, more to herself than anyone else.
“Healer Grundke, what is it that we’re seeing?” Lily asked finally. Sirius was thankful someone else voiced it, he was sort of intimidated by this woman if he was being honest.
“Well, I can’t be sure yet, but I have a hypothesis. Perhaps we can test it out.” She turned to the other three adults in the room. “Do any of you know how to occlude?”
James shook his head and Lily grimaced, but Sirius nodded his head. “I can’t say I’m extremely good at the practice, but I have some experience.”
“That’ll do, Sirius. Can you please sit beside Y/N here?”
Sirius smirked “I would love nothing more, m’lady.” He said in a sultry voice and winked at you. You rolled her eyes at him. Oh my Godric! We’re making progress!
Sirius propped himself on the bed entirely closer to you than was strictly necessary, but he couldn’t really be blamed, he was after all just a man.
The healer walked across the room and picked up a small picture frame from the fire mantle. She looked at Sirius to ensure he was watching her and threw it across the room where it hit the wall and smashed to the ground.
“We were all thinking it, and she just does it.” James murmured to himself, earning him a kick in the shin from his wife.
The healer walked back over to Sirius and pulled up a matching scan of his brain above him. He was astonished to see how different his scan looked compared to yours. Your lights travelling the paths were a warm yellow, while his were red. The thoughts and paths were also organized differently.
“Okay Sirius, please recall the memory of what you just saw me do.”
Sirius did as he was asked, and the healer watched his scan as the red light travelled a set path before she used her wand to mark where the light travelled to.
“Thank you, now occlude that memory from your mind for me.”
Sirius closed his eyes in concentration. Occlusion didn’t come as naturally to him as it had to his younger brother Regulus, possibly because Sirius never much felt like keeping his thoughts to himself anyways. He preferred to anger his parents by voicing his thoughts and opinions, whilst Regulus found comfort in keeping those locked away. Nevertheless, Sirius understood that sometimes one needed to lock some thoughts away, what with his psychopath cousin Bellatrix and her love for Legillimency. It was also one of the only ways Sirius survived his time at Grimmauld before he finally left for good in the summer between 5th and 6th year. Sirius boxed up this memory of the healer smashing the picture frame in his mind and slowly opened his eyes, keeping the memory in its box.
Sirius’ eyes fell to Lily who looked astonished. He took a peak up to his scan where the healer had erased her mark and exposed a purple-coloured orb that sat in its place.
“Is that...Is that the memory?” He asked under his breath, hardly believing what he was seeing.
“I believe it is.” She answered.
The room sat in silence for a few moments before Lily broke it.
“So, are you suggesting that the orbs present in Y/N’s scans are areas of occlusion?” Lily asked scrutinizing the scan above her friend’s head.
“I believe it is Lily. My current theory is that your friend has occluded memories associated with those closest to her.”
“But she remembered her parents, and siblings.” James interjected from the far side of the room.
“But they didn’t need protecting.” Lily exhaled, looking wide-eyed at her friend.
“Exactly.” The healer said, clearly impressed with the thought process of Lily Evans Potter as well as her own work here today.
“So let me get this straight.” James stated, standing up with a baby in his arms and joining everyone else in the centre of the room. “Y/N has buried her memories of us - her friends and Order members - so deep inside her brain that even she can’t access them in order to keep them safe against...”
“Against people willing to use torture, Legillimency, or other nefarious means to get information. Yes James, exactly.” Sirius finished James’ thought bluntly, staring at his friend with a blank face.
“So, what you’re saying is I’m a total arse.” He concluded.
“Yes, and we have it on a healer’s authority too.” Lily agreed, winking at Sirius.
Sirius glanced up at his scan and noticed the box surrounding his memory fading. The occlusion was wearing off.
“But look, the protection of the memory was worn off now that I’m not focused on protecting it. As far as we know, Y/N isn’t even aware that she is protecting memories. Why is it different?” He asked the healer.
“I'm aware that there are protected memories, I’m just not actively trying to do it.” You countered.
“I have to admit, I’ve not seen anything quite like this before myself.” The healer admitted. “It would appear that whoever or whatever you were trying to protect these memories from required more than a temporary solution.”
“Will she be able to resurface the buried memories?” Lily interjected.
“I believe so. There’s very little that magic can’t undo,” She started as she waved her wand with a quick reparo to the picture frame and the sheet rock that the picture frame hit. “I suspect once she begins to relax and feel safe in her surroundings, this underlying sense of needing to protect the memories will dissipate.”
The room stayed quiet for a few moments; Sirius looked over at you as you fiddled with your hands in your lap. He wished so badly he could jump inside your brain and know what you were thinking. How did this all make you feel?
“I feel a pull,” You started quietly. “When I’m trying to recall a memory, or someone tries to remind me of something. It’s as if someone is pulling at rocks that have been tightly wedged into a crack in the wall. Sometimes they wobble or crumble a bit. Hurts like hell for a minute but, I don’t think it’s impossible.”
The healer hummed in acknowledgement. “It seems that patience and time will be the answer then. It is likely a good thing that your memories don’t all come flooding back in at once. That’s likely to be very painful, both physically and emotionally.”
The room collectively nodded at her words.
“Healer Grundke, could you show me the spell for this scan? It appears that the grey orb is Y/N’s memories of Sirius, and when she tried to recall her memory with me in school, it went to this orange orb. I think we’d be able to help her with some memories if we understood more how they were being organized.” Lily asked.
The healer stared at Lily for a long moment. “It would be my pleasure, dear.” She took a few minutes to show Lily who practiced the incantation over James’ head. “You know, after this war, you’d have quite the career as a healer.”
Lily’s face lit up to the colour of her hair as she stared abashedly at the healer. “Thank you, healer Grundke, that’s quite a compliment.”
The healer smiled kindly at Lily and patted her shoulder, “You give me a call when you’d like to chat more.”
The adults shared some goodbyes as the healer wished you a speedy recovery and Harry babbled absolute nonsense with his slobbery fist waving at everyone.
“Y/N, I owe you one hell of an apology.” James started once Sirius returned from escorting the healer back to St. Mungo's. “Actually, I owe you many apologies, but I want to start with how I treated you this morning.”
Sirius, who was still feeling petulant over the matter, scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. You, on the other hand – the beautiful angel that you are – smiled kindly at your friend despite Sirius’ demeanour.
“That’s alright, James. I don’t think I’d trust myself much either.” You looked back down at your hands. “Someone who’s been held by Death Eaters shows up unannounced and conveniently can’t remember a thing? That’s not suspicious at all.” You laughed wryly.
James seemed appeased by your words, but Sirius rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, but it’s you babe, you’re not suspicious.”
You looked at Sirius very intensely before responding. “But how much of me is left here, Sirius? Do you recognize me? The person I was?”
Sirius stuttered. “Well, yeah. I mean, love, you’re still in there.”
You grimaced and returned your glance to your hands.
“Who is someone without their memories? Their experiences? Those things make a person. I’m nothing more than a shell.” You admitted quietly.
“Oh, honey.” Lily said as she walked back into the room, having put Harry down for a nap. “You haven’t forgotten everything, just us.” You laughed at the deprecation. “And we’re not gone completely, see?” She paused as she pulled your scan back up. She pointed at the orange orb. “There’s me, and there’s this oaf.” She pointed at the grey orb as she nodded towards Sirius who scoffed.
“And tell me, do you remember when James convinced you to set Snape’s robes on fire in 5th year?” She asked and watched as a light travelled towards a red orb before splintering. “See, right here, there’s James!”
“Did I really light his robes on fire?” You asked quietly, looking at James.
“You sure did beautiful; I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of anyone ever in my entire life. Until the day Lily gave birth to our pride and joy of course, but that day still remains a very close second.” He proclaimed. Sirius chuckled and Lily rolled her eyes.
“See? We’re still in there, and we still make up quite a significant portion of your mind, which makes you, you. You’re still here, and we’ll help you get it all back.” Lily finished.
You smiled at your friend with a loving gaze, and Sirius already felt a step closer to the you that had been buried – literally - this past year.
“Were you really with Death Eaters the whole time you’ve been gone?” Sirius asked quietly, afraid of the answer.
Surprisingly, your scan flashed violently, and lights travelled toward two orbs – one black and one green – on the opposite side of the scan. “Yes, I was kept mostly at the Lestrange Manor.” You admitted.
Sirius shuddered. His bat-shit crazy cousin, her husband and her brother-in-law were not ideal hosts for even an afternoon tea, let alone for the past few months.
“You had allies?” Lily whispered, eyes not moving from the green and black orbs on her scan.
“Allies? With Death Eaters?” James asked incredulously.
“James.” Sirius warned, putting his arm behind you protectively.
“James, don’t start.” Lily added. “Look, she’s alive which is more than any of us ever expected. That is thanks to someone, seeing as she had life-ending injuries the last anyone saw her. Plus, I don’t remember her being well-versed in occlumency while she fought with the Order, do you?” She asked the two men who both shook their heads.
“No, so that means, someone taught her. Someone knew she had people to protect and then they helped her do so.” She added and watched again as lights travelled to the two orbs before fizzing out.
Sirius looked over at you as you rubbed none-to-gently at your temples. He leaned into you and placed his forehead against your shoulder.
“Why don’t we call it a day, hm?” He asked as he drew circles against your back. He could feel you nod your ascent.
“Dumbledore called an Order meeting tonight, five o’clock.” James reminded the room. “Gives you guys about three hours for a nap.”
“That might be good, yeah? You can see everyone again, maybe it’ll help jog your memory.” Lily offered and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Yeah.” You breathed out without looking up.
“Okay, that’s it. You two, out.” Sirius said pointed at Lily and James. “It’s nap time for Princess here.”
“’M not a princess.” You muttered causing Lily and James to chuckle.
“Who said I was talking about you, gorgeous? Now out, out!” He quite literally shooed the other two adults out of the room (in their own house, mind you) and closed the door behind them. He turned to face you as you sat on the bed looking at him with a cheeky smile.
“What’s that look for?” He asked as innocently as Sirius Black could manage.
“If you wanted a nap so bad, you could have just said so Princess.” You said, smirking at him.
“I have no shame; I’m willing to admit I am a Princess and would love a nap.” He peeled his jumper off and watched as you moved up to the head of the bed and laid down on the right side. Sirius felt a crack in his chest at the sight of you curled up there; that was the side of the bed you always took when you moved in together. Without thinking, Sirius shifted into Padfoot and leapt onto the bed, curling up on the opposite side. He was startled by a sharp laugh.
“No way.”
Padfoot turned to you and tilted his head.
“I remember Padfoot.” You said. The large black dog could feel both of his ears pop up as he let out a whine. Remembers. Remembers good dog.
“He was always such a pain in my ass.” You muttered with a smirk as you pulled the throw blanket over your body. Padfoot’s chest rumbled, am not pain, am good dog. You heard what could only be described as a doggy scoff as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.
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Continue to part three here.
460 notes · View notes
tripleyeeet · 5 months
Text
EASY DAYS AHEAD
SUMMARY: Astarion's not used to feeling cared for. Luckily though, you're as caring as they come.
PAIRING: Astarion & Gender Neutral Reader
WORD COUNT: 1,925
WARNINGS: Astarion's POV, 18+ sexual content, oral sex (male receiving), body worship if you squint, CONSENT!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, consent is incredibly sexy. That's all I gotta say. Also that I'm pretty sure I was possessed by something because I wrote this in literally an hour and a half???
MASTERLIST
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Astarion doesn’t deserve the care that goes into loving him. With nothing more to offer than a broken mind wrapped in precious, tainted silk, it’s hard to wrap his head around the tenderness. Specifically the feeling of your skin, trailing patterns down his spine —painting fresh images over the scars that line his back as you praise him for his efforts. 
Your voice sounds wrong in his ears. Every word distorting. All the syllables jumbling up in ways that make him narrow his eyes, staring through the darkness of the tent at nothing in particular. 
“You okay?” you ask, and even now, weeks after your first night spent together, he has to muster up everything he’s got not to break down in front of you. 
“I’m fine, darling.” 
His lips always pull in that liar’s grin, ripping through his face like knives. Slicing the inside of his cheeks each time his fangs bite down on the wet flesh inside. 
He has to force himself to look at you. To stare at the exhausted smile that slowly shifts to a frown, showcasing your insight. How you know he’s lying before he can even elaborate on why he’s fine or how you shouldn’t worry about him —he’s a creature of the night after all. 
Pressing fully against him, he hears you click your tongue and shake your head as if scolding him. “What do you need?” 
Each time you pose that same question he feels like dying. Despite the fact his heart no longer works like yours —despite the act of breathing being nothing more than a habit he’s carried over from his deathbed— there’s a dread that coats his chest. Like oil, thick and slick, it completely drowns his organs. Suffocating his body while his mind and soul fight over what comes next. 
As the internal argument grows, his eyes always dart back and forth. One moment they’re locked onto your face, obsessively viewing each section and the next they’re anywhere but. In the forest, on the battlefield, back home tucked tightly inside the palm of his master’s hand —each night he travels everywhere, lingering in certain places while speeding through others, praying to all the Gods that never listened that he’ll make his way back to you. That just this once, instead of drifting off to sea, they’ll grant him the anchor he so desperately craves. The one that’s tethered to you and the solid ground beneath. 
“You still there, handsome?”
He is —sort of— depending on the moment, but instead of saying that he merely hums. Offering the bare minimum to the only person he’s ever met deserving of more. 
“Tired?”
“Incredibly.” 
You push your chest against his back and grip his shoulder, allowing your fingers to tighten around as you maneuver your lips to his cheek. “You should rest then,” you tell him afterward, but like always the words get pushed together. Morphing into something else entirely, causing him to narrow his eyes. 
“You’re one to talk, aren’t you?” he teases, watching you roll your eyes —feeling your nails tentatively dig into his flesh as a warning. 
“Shush. Don’t make me shove a sleeping potion down your throat.”
In response, he lets out a humorous huff. Then, his hands move to snake around your waist, pulling you on top of him. “Go ahead. I’m sure Gale would thoroughly enjoy such misuse of his wares.”
“My wares,” you correct, pressing an annoyed kiss to his chest, making sure to catch his skin between your teeth in the process as a warning. “I bought them from him fair and square.”  
Immediately, he grabs your chin and raises his brow. “Why the hells would you need a potion of sleep anyway? You already sleep like a corpse.”
You merely look away with a smile. All while rolling your eyes in that way that makes him feel like he’s young again. Freshly born into a world that hadn’t yet chewed and spat him out. One where the veins beneath his skin are full of warm blood, pumping through his system, fuelling the desire he knows he should have now that you’re lying against him, flesh against flesh. Beating heart against— 
Your lips press against his sternum and he swears they’re the most tender things he’s ever felt. Next to the way your fingers always seem to lace in his when you’re sitting by the campfire, they’re softer than any touch he’s ever experienced. Hungry yet restrained for his benefit, knowing it’s hard to feel like this. To experience the kindness of a pair of lips, worshipping a slab of skin so undeserving of such care. 
Each time your mouth makes contact, your eyes are always on him, asking for permission. Begging for consent. He’s never told you this but it’s the most selfless thing he’s ever experienced. Despite it’s obvious subtly, that look you give each time your mouth can’t help itself or your hands grow a bit too greedy, means more to him than life itself. More than power or revenge. More than freedom. Because that look requires worth. Value. An offering of submission he’s long since memorized. 
Each time it’s given to him, he has to compose himself. Otherwise, he might just shatter entirely —fall to the floor in a hundred tiny pieces not even you may be willing to put in the effort to fix.
Swallowing hard, he has to stare intently at your face, taking in the way you look up at him through your lashes. How you arch your brow just slightly upward, asking for forgiveness. Atoning for your sins in the form of restraint until he eventually nods, hearing your voice. 
You always ask out loud to make sure. An act that only further fuels his desire to feel you wrapped around him. To experience the warmth of your flesh tenderly pressing against the iciness of his. 
“Go ahead, darling,” he tells you, and for once, he means it. Truly. 
Instead of pretending like he wants this for the sake of a game, he accepts you in full. Watching you genuinely grin as you lean up to capture his lips, savouring the taste of his approval. Consuming the sound that absentmindedly passes through his lips as your hand lingers down, drifting past his chest and stomach until you’re pulling away to breathe. 
He can feel his mouth swell with need. The rest of his body following suit as you begin to descend, touching and kissing and biting —putting him through every sensation he’s gifted so many others. 
Leaning up to watch you work, he can see the excitement in your face each time he accidentally twitches beneath you. How the edges of your eyes crinkle with anticipation the moment you find yourself tucked between his legs, looming over him with heavy hands and breaths. 
“You’re beautiful,” you tell him then, and for once it means something. 
“You’re beautiful,” he repeats back, and for once it isn’t a lie. In fact, it’s the most honest he’s ever been, and secretly that scares him. So much so that he has to look down to see if you’re still there. 
Hoping that the sudden sincerity in his voice hasn’t scared you away, he can’t help but focus on the curve of your spine. How it starts low; your chest slightly leaning against one of his inner thighs.
Somehow despite the precarious position, you look perfect. Like a piece of art so carefully made, he can’t help but reach down and touch, revelling in the way you shudder beneath him. Sighing at the sudden desperation that erupts when you pull at the fabric against his waist. 
“Greedy, are we?” he jokes. 
Shooting him an embarrassed look, your hands continue to work his underwear down his legs —ignoring the way they catch at his knees and ankles. “I just really want to make you feel good.” 
The way you speak sends him over the precipice of ruin. Even before you discard the cloth and wrap your hand around the head of his cock, he’s already done for. Lost to the feeling of your digits. Fully enraptured by the heat of your breath as you lean forward and take him between your lips, coating him in spit. He has to close his eyes despite wanting nothing more than to look at you. Feeling the way your cheeks hollow out against him, he can already imagine the expressions of your efforts. All the time and care put in as you stroke him gently, maintaining the slowest pace he’s sure he’s ever experienced. 
It drives him mad with need. Bucking upwards each time your tongue drags across the tip, he instantly feels you push back. With a firm hand, you grip his hip and dig the pads into his flesh as yet another warning, telling him to behave. To just sit back and savour the pleasures he’s deserved rather than rushing through. 
He isn’t used to enjoying this. More often than not feeling like nothing more than a body designated for others enjoyment, he isn’t entirely sure how to properly relish your efforts. Or at least, in a way that doesn’t feel forced. Because he could do what you’re supposed to in this situation: touch you, moan for you, utter sweet nothings in your ear to further spur you on. He could do one of them or all of them, perhaps a mixture of two and still, it wouldn’t be enough to fully showcase the weight that fills his chest each time your mouth bobs up and down. How, as you begin to push him further and further into your mouth until he’s grazing the back of your throat, everything you do feels like the greatest gift he’s ever received. How maddening it is to feel loved like this even when he’s at his most unloveable.
Because that’s what you do to him. With the simplest of touches, you make him feel like him again. Like his mind hasn’t been shattered by the repeated slams of a sinner’s hand. As if his skin, etched by the knife of that same bastard, isn’t scarred. That instead it’s merely just skin. A grouping of muscle and tissue wrapping around his bones —a simple casing of flesh meant to be licked and sucked and pumped for all it’s worth until he’s gasping for air and uncontrollably shaking. 
And sometimes he feels like he’s earned it. During the easy days when he’s able to forget about his past and instead focus on the beauty that’s pressed against his leg, continuing to suck the come from his orgasm, it’s as if he’s on top of the world. Standing on a pillar of his past self’s hopes and dreams, he can easily look down at you with pride. Reaching down to touch your temple, he can feel the haze of your affections in full. The tremors of your possessive lips slowly slipping off, granting him a slick-coated smile that makes him almost faint. 
During those days he can smile back and pull you up into his chest, ignoring the ache between his thighs in your absence. Opting to hold you close. 
“Was that okay?” he hears you ask, and despite the question seeming almost juvenile, all he does is kiss your face. Starting at your forehead before moving to your nose and cheeks —eventually ending on your lips, he answers the question the only way he can. By showing you that, thanks to the care you foolishly offer, the days really are getting easier.
-
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vivwritesfics · 6 months
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No Need To Ask - CS55
Chapter One - Protected
The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.
But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.
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"Check," said Y/N as her Queen took his Knight. He had no moves himself, none that would win the game for him. In one more move Y/N could take his King, winning the game.
Lando stared at his sister, annoyance and amusement written on his face. "How did you get so good at chess?" He asked and leaned back in his chair. There was no point making his next move, not when she was going to win anyway.
With a smirk on her face, Y/N made that final, winning move. "I played a lot with my mum while you were off with dad."
Off doing unspeakable things.
While Y/N and Lando had the same father, they didn't share a mother. Landos mother had died when he was young. Nasty business really. He and his dad were alone until Y/Ns mother came along.
Landos dad and Y/Ns mother weren't meant to fall in love. It just sort of... happened. She gave the Norris boys so much love while being ruthless with their men. She fell into place in their world and, before she knew it, she was the heavily pregnant Mrs Norris.
A lot of people didn't realise Y/N and Lando were only half siblings. Some didn't realise they were related at all.
After having a baby girl, Mr Norris wanted to keep her away from their world. He already had Lando set up to take over from him, as head of the Norris family, working for the Hamiltons. But Y/N wasn't supposed to be involved.
"How is dad?" Asked Y/N as she packed away the chess set. Y/N hadn't seen her father in near two weeks. His health was deteriorating and he spent all of his time and energy working. Lando would be taking over as head of the Norris family but it was only once his body was in the ground. That was going to be any day now.
Lando cleared his throat and turned towards the window. "Don't be surprised if he calls you into his room any day now," he answered.
Oh. That wasn't good news. Y/N placed the wooden chess set back on the desk that used to belong to her mother and turned back towards her brother. "You have your first meeting with Mr Hamilton, don't you?" She asked, nervously chewing at her nails.
Lando narrowed his eyes towards her. "You've been listening in, haven't you?"
"Only sometimes," Y/N answered, sitting in her mothers chair. Sometimes she'd be there for hours, sitting behind the desk, pretending she was as involved in the Norris Family as her mother once was. They were big shoes to fill. “I could go with you, you know?”
“No!” Lando shouted, slamming his fist down onto the table in front of him.
Y/N jumped back. This was what her brother had been bred and raised for. Already he was ruthless and calculating, every bit the man their father had been trying to turn him into. “Dad wouldn’t allow it and neither will I,” he spat and stood from his chair.
Lando was already dressed in one of his best suits. He had attended several meetings with Mr Hamilton before, but none without his father. This was his first. He wasn’t yet head of the family, but he was going to act like it. At these meetings he was used to being seen and not heard, but this was his first time speaking. It was on behalf of his father, yes, but the words were still coming from Lando.
He marched out of the study, leaving Y/N there. He didn’t apologise for being harsh; it was the only way to keep her safe.
Y/N watched her brother go. As soon as he was gone, Y/N began trying to pull open the desk drawers. They were locked, had been ever since her mother had died. But she was desperate for some way to be close to her mother; it was lonely in a crime family when you couldn’t be involved with the crime.
When she couldn’t get into the desk, she stood and walked out of the room.
The halls were full of portraits. Members of the Norris family that had since passed on. there were family portraits, too. One of little Lando with his mother and his father and one of Lando, Y/N and their parents. Further down the hall there was a portrait of Lando’s mother and another of Y/N’s mother. Mr Norris loved both of his wives equally, that was clear to anyone.
Two men stood on either side of Y/N’s door. They were silent, unspeaking. The guns Y/N knew they had on them were saying enough. She walked past them, giving just a curt nod and pushed the door shut behind her.
Just because she wasn’t a part of the crime family didn’t mean her father didn’t want her protected. There were men outside of her door and men under her window. There were at least two at every entrance; nothing came in or out of the house without them knowing.
She sat on her bed and looked towards her window. Normal girls could go out and spend time with their friends. They could go out and get dinner, sit at a bar with a cocktail in hand. They could go out to the club and dance the night away. But not Y/N. She had to sit in her room and dream of a life she could never have.
***
Lando was in the big leagues now. When he was a boy he used to sit on the side lines, taking notes for his father. But now he was up at the table with the other heads of house. Charles Leclerc of Monaco, Carlos Sainz Sr, one of the heads of family from Spain. There was Sergio Perez from Mexico, Jos Verstappen from the Netherlands and more.
At the head of the table was Lewis Hamilton. He ran everything, kept all of the families together. Before him there had been Schumacher and then Vettel. Hamilton was a wonder boy. He’d risen up in the ranks in the button family before breaking away and starting his own. It had started a war, a war that Hamilton had been quick to put an end to.
He was in charge of the crime family now.
Lando listened as Lewis ran the meeting. He spoke to each family member, a man from his organisation taking notes. “We have a newcomer at the table today,” Lewis bellowed, leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of him. “As we all know, Norris isn’t in the best of shape. So, in his steed, he has sent his son, Lando.”
Lando has a tight smile as he waved to the rest of the room. He’d met them all before, Sainz and his father were once friends. He’d spent a lot of time with his son when he was younger.
Finishing the meeting, Hamilton dismissed everybody. “Ah, Lando, can I speak to you for a moment?” He asked as he lit a cigar.
Lando walked over to him and accepted the cigar he offered to him. “What can I do for you, sir?” Lando asked, sitting in the seat beside his own.
Hamilton took his cigar from between his lips. “As you know, your father and Sainz haven’t always been the best of friends. There has been something brewing between your families for a while now and it is my job to squash it. Your father, Sainz and I have been having talks for years now, and we came to one conclusion.”
Lando cleared his throat. He hadn’t smoked very much before, but it was a habit he had been picking up since his father’s health started declining. “What might that be, sir?”
“Your sister.”
Lando’s face paled. His eyes went wide, and his mouth felt metallic. “What sister?” His protective instincts kicked in, but he couldn’t do anything in front of Hamilton. Lando felt sick.
“Before your mother died, she came up with a plan to unite your families. Your sister is to marry Sainz Jr and you’re to make sure it happens, okay?”
Hamilton gave Lando no time to reply. He put out his cigar and walked away, leaving Lando still sitting at the table.
He couldn’t stand up. His chest hurt and he needed to empty his stomach. Lando stood from his seat and rushed out of the room. He made his way through the halls and out to his car. He couldn’t throw up in Lewis Hamilton’s bushes, could he? No, Lando had to get home.
Driving around the fountain, Lando sped back home. He could hide his sister away, couldn’t he? Send her somewhere that didn’t have any of the families in power. Their house in Monaco was a no go, not while Charles was in power. Maybe their house in Belgium, but too many families in power surrounded the country.
Driving home was a blur for Lando. He couldn’t allow his little sister to marry into another crime family. And it was a plan his stepmother came up with. She was the one hellbent of protecting Y/N in the first place; how could she let this happen?
As soon as Lando was out of his car, he threw up onto the gravel driveway. He threw up until he had nothing left in his stomach. Lando couldn’t face going inside, not yet. He couldn’t tell her, not yet. How was his father allowing this?
Lando wanted them answers. He wanted them real bad.
Leaving his car where it was, Lando marched towards the house. He threw his eyes to somebody at the front door and stormed past them. Up several flights of stairs and towards the furthest bedroom. When he walked past Y/N’s bedroom, his steps faltered. She was in there, and she had no idea what was waiting for her.
Lando burst into his father’s bedroom. It was a horrible sight to see, him laying in bed hooked up to oh so many machines. He stared at Lando as he walked over to the desk, grabbed the chair and dragged it back over to the bed. “Dad,” he said, staring at him.
Mr Norris didn’t respond. He stared at his son, waiting for him to continue.
“I had my first meeting with the heads of the families today,” Lando said, his leg bouncing. “Hamilton pulled me to the side to talk about a deal Helena made with Sainz. Do you already have an invite to Y/N’s wedding? Or am I the last to find out? Well, aside from Y/N, of course.”
Mr Norris coughed. “Has she met with him yet?”
“What?”
“Has Y/N met with Carlos Sainz Jr yet?”
Lando shook his head. “No, she hasn’t.”
“Arrange it for the end of the week. I want the ball rolling on this as soon as possible,” said Mr Norris. He waved his hand, dismissing his son, but Lando ignored it.
“No,” he said and stood up. He pushed his hair back, knocking it over. “No, not until you tell me why! Why are you throwing Y/N to the lions when we’ve spent the last twenty years trying  to protect her?!” He shouted, fury written on his face.
Mr Norris shook his head. "You know what will happen if we do not make peace with Sainz. Set up a meeting between Y/N and Sainz Jr."
With no other choice, Lando left the room. He stopped just outside of his father's door and punched the wall. The men guarding Y/N's door watched, but they didn't let their gazes linger.
Lando let out a shout as his fist connected with the wall, but he didn't register the pain. There were more pressings things at hand.
He marched down the hallway and pushed his way into Y/Ns room. "Lan!" She cried when he pushed the door shut behind him. "How was your meeting with the heads of family?"
This wasn't something he wanted to talk about. Especially not with Y/N. But, what other choice did he have? He was supposed to arrange a meeting between her and Carlos.
Lando stood by the window, looking out into the gardens. "We've got something we need to talk about," he said, refusing to look at her.
"What's the matter, Lan?"
With a sigh he turned around and sat on the bed beside her. "Before your mother passed, she set up a business deal using the help of our dad, Hamilton and Sainz. This business deal actually involves you."
"Me?" Y/N gasped as she stared at her brother. "What could I possibly have to do with anything?"
Lando sucked in a breath. "You know the problems we've been having with the Sainz family? Well, your mother, our father, Hamilton and Sainz had been working together to try and rectify this. Before she died, your mum came up with a solution."
"Lan, just tell me," she muttered, picking at the skin around her nails.
This was the hardest thing he would ever have to do. "Y/N, you're getting married," he said quickly. "It was your mothers ideal, so there can't be any other solution."
Y/N was quiet for a moment. Married. She was going to be getting married.
"I didn't want this for you, but we have no other choice," he continued. "Please, Y/N, try to understand."
"No, Lan, I understand. I get it," she mumbled, placing her hands in her lap. "I know its something I have to do. Just, tell me, who am I going to be marrying?" But Y/N was pretty sure she already knew.
"Do you remember my old friend, Carlos?"
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