#missed fucking opportunities all over the damn place doing these boys dirty

[stossgebet-und-dominum]

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐠𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐭

warnings: nsfw. stepcest, sacrilegium, dacryphilia, lots of petnames used, choking, lingerie, anal play, rough sex, virginity loss, "sir" and "daddy" are used, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, corruption kink, reader kinda adores obito as her god, a little blasphemy if you're christian.

nothing happens this chapter, but i don't want minors reading anyway :)

stoßgebet noun, neutral — a. short prayer. a perfect stepsister. no loud music, no men entering your bedroom, no dirty talks about guys with your occasional colleagues’ visits. church at sunday, at wednesday and saturdays’ mornings are all dedicated to studying how to do god’s will in the best way possible. you are immaculate, not corrupted, pure. how could obito avoid falling for you?

𝐢. 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐦

words count: 3,855

You show your precious and innocent smile when you enter in Obito’s new apartment and he almost fail to hide a satisfied smirk. Even though he knows you’re not smiling for him, he ignores and feels like it is. He also knows that your eyes—all impressed and moving from side to side—are just admiring the good job his mom’s favorite interior designer made. It hurts to say, but nothing you do is about or for him. For you, he is sure, Obito is nothing but the nice but closed guy that is the oldest son of your stepmother. So he gets all the opportunities to pretend you’re grinning at him, happy to be around him.

You follow Obito’s mom into the new place, soon staring at the kitchen, covered with expensive black granite and top notch furniture. His pans are new and don’t seem to be used yet, the cabinets all full with the best cooking products. Candies, snacks, lamens and cans of energy drink are also there, but less that you think it was a few days ago. It must be a good thing—to be able to pick what you are eating that day, not depending on what mother and father wants to eat. It must be good to be independent, just like Obito is now.

“I want to cook here,” you comment, leaving the kitchen but eyes locked on all the black furniture. You should have known Obito would choose everything in black color with red details. Just the opposite of what you think of decorating your future home—pastel green, beige and white—, but it still very pleasant.

You reach the living room, Obito patiently waiting for you after his mom, commenting on everything she put the eyes on. His eyes meet yours for a second and you smile again. This time, he knows you did it for him and smirks back. “You can come over if you promise me you are cooking for me”, he nods and points to the kitchen.

“Don’t worry”, you say simply, shaking your hands in a cheerful way.

You’re always that kind. Happy, glad to be with your family, even if they weren’t the ones who actually knew you since you were a little girl. Despite the strangeness you felt on the first semester about living under the same roof as a grown ass man that you could call stepbrother, you did very well to make yourself family as much as your father. And it drove Obito crazy—he wanted to fucking hate you. He didn’t want any young girl walking around like it was her real place. He was ready for everything: complaining about short clothes, about boys showing up, the times you’d get home.

Obito was not ready for having as his stepsister a damn ass religious girl who always wears bra and pants, not showing thighs even under the hottest days. He was not ready for you being a lonely—by your choice, it must be—student. He was not ready for your schedule being all done until 9pm so you never go out late or something like this. He was not ready for you getting home half an hour later and apologizing for having trouble to say a quick goodbye for your church colleagues.

You are Miss right. Miss flawless. No loud music, no men entering your bedroom, no dirty talks about guys with your occasional colleagues’ visits. Church at Sunday, at Wednesday and Saturdays’ mornings are all dedicated to studying how to do God’s will in the best way possible. You are immaculate, not corrupted, pure.

How could Obito hate you if you are built like this?

You continue to walk through the apartment, astonished with every detail. It has lots of personality, just like Obito’s room in his mother’s house. Dark grey walls, a large and expensive TV with a few action figures of his favorite games and TV shows. A video game console, speakers on the ceiling, LED ribbon glued close to the curtains. The sofa is comfortable enough for you to think about staying there until your stepmom remember she has any appointment and leave Obito alone. Despite the curiosity to finally meet his bedroom, it is a really tempting desire. So you stand up when you hear your name coming from the bathroom.

“Isn’t it adorable?”, Obito’s mom says and you do a face. On the contrary of the rest of the house, the walls are covered with light colors. It has a small bathtub, enough for those who aren’t very discerning. It smells like roses, a soft but remarkable aroma.

“It’s very nice, mom”, you answer, not sounding very convincing. The woman gives Obito a fast gaze and smile. He answers, funny, “I knew she’d prefer the suite bathroom”.

She walks to his bedroom and you follow, quite interested. You always remembered about curiosity being a bitch, but you couldn’t help. Obito was interesting, his door was always locked and nobody entered his place but the housekeeper. You could see nothing through the windows, because the curtains were covering everything. Somehow, you knew he had secrets and you were eager to find out about them since the day you noticed—years ago, right before moving to his house.

It isn’t a surprise for you that his bedroom is also locked. Your stepmom complains about it, joking about what he is hiding inside. Girls? Drugs? Alcohol? You knew he had enough age to do whatever the hell he wanted, although this kind of secrets doesn’t actually fit him. You chuckle at his denials, wondering what the truth about his bedroom is.

Guess you will never know.

One of his hands goes to your back base, the other doing the same with his mother. His tall figure guides both of you back to the living room, telling there’s nothing interesting about going through her pretty and well-behaved boy. “Didn’t you have a nail appointment or something like this?”, he says.

There is no commitment for your or her, yet she checks her phone and does a surprised expression. You raise a brow, but don’t say anything. She picks up her purse and goes to the door, pulling you by your wrist. You follow while she explains you are going to an emergency party with your father and you just nod, not exactly knowing how to act with the sudden change of pace of the situation. Weren’t you going to be there until the dinner? It was 5pm yet.

You shake your hand in a goodbye for Obito, smiling. “Feel free to come back”, he says and looks at his mom, kissing her forehead gently. “Not you”.

The two of you leave his apartment, but before the door closes you see an unnoticed decoration item. The very first—the only—picture you and Obito took with his camera. Dark academia clothes, a very serious expression on your soft features, velvet lips in a rigid line as his arm stood over your shoulders. It could be a couple’s picture. That day he said all the photos were good—he used you as his model—though he never sent you any of them. You didn’t get to see them, so it was a huge surprise. Why he kept you as decoration to his refrigerator?

Obviously, it wasn’t there by a simple coincidence. Obito has his reasons for keeping the single photo of both of you right there where everybody can see. He doesn’t care if one of his friends thinks less of him for having the face of his little sister on the side of the refrigerator. It’s just a good picture, isn’t it?

When you left his place, Obito immediately missed your brief presence. You are not the most talkative person, but your scent is remarkable, just as your beauty. He noticed every detail of you, after a few days without seeing you. It was a surprise to see you your dark palette clothes replaced by a modest sundress. Your shoulders weren’t visible, but he is used to it. He never had seen you without short or long sleeve shirts other than the rare situations you agreed to travel to the beach.

Nevertheless he couldn’t deny it was kind of annoying, it also makes everything more interesting. Not knowing what’s under all that fabric is quite exciting for him—and the surprising times you watch her without pants covering her legs get way more fascinating.

Obito feels like he’s a Middle Ages adolescent. Getting all aroused because of a pair of legs and three or four fingers of exposed thigh skin, expecting the day you’d let him what’s under the heavy outfit. It was enough to give him a problem.

He’s respectful, though. It happened a fucking lot of times, but he didn’t move a finger to touch himself. Not because he doesn’t want to—he just knows the more he waits, the more pleasurable it will be. And he is sure one day it is happening.

But he’s not the one who will suggest this. Obito is waiting for you.

A few days later, Obito stares at his phone. Mother is calling for the second time. Laid down on his bed, he makes no effort to accept the call, wondering without any interest what she wants to talk about that time of the day. 11am of a lazy Sunday, the day he officially declared as the day to don’t receive any calls or invitations. His mother isn’t an exception—he declines and keep watching the e-sports channel while eating things that aren’t exactly healthy.

Fuck it, though. Obito had lots of years to eat healthy, the accident on his early teenager years forcing him to eat shitty food for a long time.

The phone rings again. He considers shutting it down to finally get some rest and get it, not bothering to decline his mom’s call. But he double check before pressing a button to turn off.

“Why is she calling me?,” he mumbles to himself, seeing your number on the screen. Little Sis, it says. His finger slides to accept and your soft voice fill his whole room.

“Sorry bothering you”, you are almost formal. “But I was just thinking… Isn’t your apartment close to the Cathedral?”

“It is. Wanna come over?”, Obito replies, his voice neutral, hiding his sudden excitement. He’d been expecting this, the time you’d notice his home is close to your beloved church and you can stay there whenever you want to. That’s why his suite bathroom has a shower, just the way you prefer, and he keeps fruit-scented body lotions and perfumes on his wardrobe.

“Mm, if you don’t mind…”, you answer, seeming to be embarrassed. “I can cook for us! The mass is only at five, so I can do something really nice”, you offer. Obito agrees and tells you he’s waiting for you.

“I must buy a few things yet, so I’ll be there in half an hour”, you say, too specific like ever. It is good to hear your trembling and shy voice. Since the both of you aren’t that close, it is a surprising situation for you to be the one calling him, offering to cook a meal and asking him to stay at his place until the mass time.

You couldn’t say your heart isn’t beating really fast when you park your car next to the supermarket. You are thinking about what to prepare since the day you visited him with your stepmother. Good thing he is not too picky, so you could easily decide. Pasta, tomato sauce and a few toppings to go with it.

After a few minutes, you are at his place, waiting for Obito to allow your entrance with your car. The high building has a big parking lot and you look for the number he told you to find. You stop next to his expensive black car and go to the hall, carrying the groceries.

“Come here”, Obito says, approaching and holding the groceries bag. He is gentle as he gives you a small side hug, pressing your waist a little. You follow him to the elevator and soon both of you are in front of the wood door, 1302.

You take your overcoat off and put it on the grey sofa as Obito stays in the kitchen. When you come back, his tall figure is against the wall, arms crossed and eyes focused on the floor. When he notices you, he comes closer.

His black and thin fabric shirt has long sleeves, tight on his arms and chest muscles. You can’t help but stare a little, hypnotized. And soon guilty. He is your stepbrother. Forget about finding him attractive. You can’t let flesh admiration distract you from your objectives.

He can’t distract you of being an untouched and immaculate girl until the day God gives you a husband.

Who probably isn’t he.

You nod to yourself and turn back to the countertop, washing the vegetables you bought to yourself and filling a pan with water, putting it on the flames. Obito watches you carefully, observing if you need some help. He decides you can do it by your own, so he goes to the living room again.

“If you need some help just call me”, his voice is friendly, but that’s all. You feel a little shy, afraid of being annoying and invading his space and breaking his peace. You put your hair up, a tight bun so it doesn’t fall when you’re cooking, and start to slice the greens.

Behind the wall, Obito thinks about how he misses your baby blue sundress from the other day. Today you’re dressed up with a serious buttoned with shirt and tight pants that adjust perfectly to your body. You look very pretty, but he can’t stop himself when he turns his laptop on and finds an online shopping website, with good prices and nice clothing, thinking about having them on your gorgeous body just to take all of them off.

An idiot impulse, the wish of seeing you dressed up for him and the facilities of internet are enough—a short black dress, two pleated skirts and a big hoodie are expected to get at his home in a few days. Next to him, you are cooking for him, acting like his little wife as he spoils you in the way he dreamed.

Close to it, anyway.

One website leads him to another one and suddenly Obito is on paradise. Cute lingerie sets, fake leather legs garters and chokers with tags that could have his name written. Fuck it. He is buying it as soon as you go to the church. Once more, his blood rushes to his cock and he is hard with nothing but the thoughts of you bent under him, feeling his hardness against your small body. Damn it.

“It’s ready”, you announce, going to the living room to get the table done. The sun is entering by the big windows, annoyingly bright. You put the two plates on the table, forks and knives by its side. Obito walks in your direction but you go back to the kitchen, bringing the hot pan with the cooked pasta.

Soon the table has the sauce, pasta and toppings for him to serve himself. You wait for him, but Obito doesn’t do more than sitting down and watching you.

“It looks really good, sweetie”, he praises you with a smirk, the nickname making you blush. He points to the pasta. “Can you put it for me?”

“Sure”, you agree, unaware of his intention. But how could you know? It is just an innocent ask.

You put pasta and tomato sauce on both of the plates and inquire if he wants any topping. Obito chooses parmesan cheese, ham, chive, basil and chili powder and you put it in front of you.

It’s a fucking arousing vision when it shouldn’t be.

Obito loves to see you focused, doing your best to do his plate, almost like you wanted his approval. If you agreed to it, he’d ask you to do it every fucking day—cook for him, feed him like you care about him, like he’s your loved one.

He’d eat and praise your skills, clean your lips corners and help you doing the dishes. Then he’d bring you to his bed, put a nice TV show and wait until you beg for him to kiss you. He would kiss you after a while, leaning over you and passionately asking if you want more. Because, fuck, he wants more just think about it.

You sit by his side after getting your plate done. Used since a child to eat in silence, Obito and you keep focused on the meal, occasional satisfied noises leaving his mouth. When he finishes eating, it’s almost 2pm. Yet so late since you got there, the religious meeting is even later.

Finding yourself kind of lost, you go to the kitchen, planning to get the dishes done and maybe watching something. You stop next to the fridge, staring at your picture glued there.

“You look pretty there,” you hear Obito saying. “Don’t you agree?”

As you don’t respond, your stepbrother put the plates you were holding on the sink. “Don’t worry about cleaning stuff, sweetie”.

His hands go to your arms and he strokes them a little, feeling you tremble under his touch. Precious, he thinks. Will you shake like this when he’s deep into you?

Obito can’t just stop having dreams about it.

You gulp and follow him to the sofa, his laptop opened in an interesting website. Colorful bras are on the screen and you chuckle when you sit by his side. “Is it for you, Obito?”

“Of course”, he points to his chest, smiling. “They are getting big”.

You follow his fingertip and watch his chest once more. Strong, firm, you know it is—you don’t need to touch his flesh. But, again, it is all a devilish distraction. You can’t keep acting like you’re not a religious and proud Lord’s servant, getting interest in men’s body.

You look away, laughing nervously. If you were truly being a good girl, you wouldn’t be alone at home with a man. Yes, he is you stepbrother, but almost family isn’t family. And you couldn’t deny that when you were in your rebel days—fighting against church rules and doing the contrary of what you heard there—, happened before you even turn eighteen, you thought about kissing him, letting him do whatever he wanted to. You were attracted to him.

A small voice corrects you. You areattracted, however being too stubborn to admit. There is nothing to worry about confessing it, it isn’t the biggest sin you’d make in your life. You cross your legs and stares at the television, the screen being nothing but boring compared to what you were looking at after.

Obito chuckles.

“You can change if you want to”, he passes the control to you. “I have streaming services and you can put some music too. Just don’t look at me with that bored face again, ‘cause we still got three hours together.”

“Mm, I actually was thinking about sleeping until that time. Would you mind?”, you ask him.

“Sure”, he stands up. “I’ll be in my room if you want something”

You smile and nod, putting an alarm on your phone to ring at half past four. You take your shoes off and lie down. Obito goes to his room after closing the curtains and giving you a small fluffy blanket to cover yourself. You easily fall asleep after a few minutes he’s gone.

When you wake up, the sun isn’t invading the room through the cracks of the curtains. You, a little bit dizzy, wait a minute to get up and check what time is it. It can be you mind tricking you, can’t it? No sun, a very cold wind coming from the kitchen’s window and reaching your feet.

Well. Six o’clock. You sigh loudly, pissed off while checking the phone alarm. Did it ring and you didn’t hear? What a shame. You walk to the bathroom annoyed—what a stupid idea, coming over Obito’s house—, washing your face and putting your hair down. After looking at least presentable, you go to his room, the door closed, but not locked.

Not wanting to harm his privacy, you call him.

“Obito… Can I come in?”, you almost whisper.

It takes a few seconds for him to answer you.

“Something happened?”

“Mm, I just lost the mass”, you bit your lip, feeling stupid. “So I’m coming home, there is no reason for me to stay here”

Obito doesn’t say anything else, so you go back to the sofa. After a few minutes, he shows up—shirtless, sleepy eyes and with his hair all messy.

In short, gorgeous.

You feel your belly twist and you press your legs together. Obviously he notices, however he doesn’t say a word about it, just smirking. You look away before your eyes decide to analyze his naked torso. You don’t wait for his answer, picking up your stuff and going towards the exit of his apartment.

It is a sad sight, for him—you rock a bye, smiling at him, but eyes never meeting his own. You’re focused on the roof, on the fridge that has you photo, everywhere but him. Obito comes closer, hugging you as he never done before. His arms are around you waist, pressing you onto his firm chest. Your own hands go to his neck, pulling it, approaching your face from his throat. It’s the biggest body contact you ever had with a man—you shake, feel a shiver in every centimeter of your skin, and exhale with how good it is.

And the fucking cherry on top: Obito has his reasons to squeeze you against him like this. You hold your breath as you notice how closer you are—glued, you can’t say otherwise—to his pants bulge. It presses your lower belly, since you’re on tiptoes, and you know you’ll have to change your panties as soon as you get home.

“I want you— uh, I want you to cook for me again, sweetie”, he says.

You ignore the fact he is aroused too, his devilish voice tone only confirming it. You can’t say you want to know more about it. You can’t admit you’re wet. You can’t just confess you want to ignore what you hear on church and fornicate with the man you grew up with. It’d be more guilt than you usually have to deal with—you neither need nor can handle more pressure coming from your own mind.

So you just move away, opening the door.

“Sure. I’m going downstairs by my own. Bye, Obito”.

Not even a fake smile. Neutral expression, neutral tone, neutral reaction. You might think you covered up your feelings to Obito, though you know they’ll keep inside your mind for a whole month. You can’t lie to yourself forever.

#obito x reader #obito x y/n #obito smut #obito scenario #naruto x reader #naruto smut #akatsuki x reader #dominum stepcest

[awkward-and-indecisive]

First Day Assistance.

Summary - Y/N is new on The Boys set, nervous and determined to do her job right until she meets Jensen Ackles and her mouth loses its filter so he decides to teach her a good lesson.

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Warnings - SMUT 18+, Unprotected sex (y’all are better than this), Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of fluff, Jensen in that damn Soldier Boy suit, this is just pure filth with no plot in sight

Word Count - 2547

A/N - Blame @msmarvelouswinchester for this and of course Mr. Jensen Snackles who I’m pretty sure wants to kill me. Apparently this is what she and I do, put thoughts into each other’s head until we can’t do anything but write them. Till three in the morning🤦🏽‍♀️

This was also Beta’d by @msmarvelouswinchester , so double thank you 😘

This is a work of fiction and for entertainment purposes. I don’t mean any harm to anyone in their family.

This is my first ever fic so please tell me what you think about it. FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!

Happy Reading!!!

*****

It was your first day on the set of The Boys and you were excited for this new opportunity. You had to start small with being a P. A. but now you were looking forward to working on the third season of such an amazing show. You were ready to work hard and were determined to make it big in the industry.

But all those plans flew straight out the window when you looked at Jensen fucking Ackles in his Soldier Boy suit looking like a sex god. You probably had stopped breathing and only inhaled sharply when you became a little lightheaded. Your thighs squeezed together, your pussy clenched and you could feel wetness pooling between your legs.

It was rather directly proportional - the dampness of your panties and the amount of time you looked at him. The more you stared at all the little details, the more wet you became. You knew it was highly unprofessional to have such thoughts about one of the leading actors but it was like your body had stopped listening to you and all the rational and moral thoughts had ceased to have any effect on you.

The way the muscles of his broad shoulders rippled underneath the spandex of his suit as he moved. The way the suit gave a little peek of his neck. The way his freckles shone through the little peek. The way his shoulder to waist ratio fucked you up. The way that knife holster on his hip made you go feral with lust. The way you wanted to come undone on those fingerless gloves till you couldn’t anymore. The way that suit hugged his curves, especially that perky ass.

You were busy thirsting like a dehydrated bitch in the middle of the Sahara, lost in your own filthy thoughts for who knows how long, when a snapping noise brought you back to the land of living. You blinked a few times to clear your head of its dirty thoughts and blurry vision. When you looked back up, you saw Jensen Snackles, as Sony Pictures had oh so proudly named him, standing in front of you and snapping his fingers.

Confusion flooded your expressions but before you could open your mouth to ask what he wanted, he cut you off, “Do we have a problem here, miss? Is there something on my face or what? Because you keep staring at me and I can’t do my job like that!” He said in an annoyed tone.

That’s when you looked around and saw that the set was deserted except for you and the Adonis. The director must have called for a break if there were too many bad takes. You felt a little guilty for wasting everyone’s time but before you could apologise, he cut you off again, “There she goes again. What is going on inside your head?” He clipped, waving a hand in front of your face.

You didn’t know what it was. The pent up sexual frustration of not having had sex in months or how rudely Snackles here was constantly cutting you off, with the fact that no one should look like that or that you couldn’t get your mind off of him but you snapped at him.

“Listen Mr. Sna- Mr. Ackles, firstly, I don’t have a problem with you and I’m not staring at you and secondly, you are not letting me work and are distracting me.” You quipped.

You knew in an instant you were fired for the way you had talked to him but now that you had spoken your mind and the words had left your mouth, you couldn’t take them back. So you decided to stand your ground.

“I am not letting you work?!” He scoffed, cocking one of his eyebrows.

“Yes!! You think it’s easy for me to concentrate when you roam around looking like sex on legs.” You said, waving a hand up and down his body.

Your eyes widened and your hand flew to your mouth when you heard the words that had left your mouth. A cocky smirk grew on his face and he took a step forward as you mirrored his move in the opposite direction.

“I think that implies you were staring at me.” He chuckled, stepping forward again until your back hit the wall and the clipboard and the walkie you had in your hands fell. You were caged by him against the wall, looking like a prey meeting the eyes of its predator just before it’s death.

You looked down, too ashamed and weak to meet his burning gaze. You turned your head towards the exit and said, “I’m sorry Mr. Ackles. I should leave.”

“Nuh-uh,” he tutted, “Sex on legs huh?” He asked cockily.

He was dangerously close to you. You could feel his warm breath fanning over your face. You let out an involuntary whimper and if it was possible, his face turned more cocky.

“What other thoughts swim around in that pretty little head of yours Miss..” he trailed off, his hand coming to push a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

You cleared your throat before half whispering and half whimpering, “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.” He said, gruffly, as if trying to see how it would sound from his mouth and god did it sound so sinful. “Interesting name but I guess it makes up for your interesting personality. So as I was saying, what other thoughts about me do you have? Other than sex on legs of course.”

You couldn’t focus enough to reply as you were busy staring at his plump lips and that goddamn beard that gave you all kinds of thoughts you wouldn’t think in your wildest dreams.

“You’re staring again, sweetheart.” He chuckled and the vibrations of it could be felt by you as he pressed his body to yours and caged you between his arms that you knew from his Instagram video he had spent some time working on.

You instantly looked up into his gorgeous green orbs and found yourself lost in them. You opened your mouth a few times but nothing came out, looking like a fish out of the water. Words had left you. It was like a small child trying to speak but not knowing how to.

He closed the distance between his mouth and your ear and growled, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?”

Your whole body shuddered and you pushed your thighs together to get some much needed friction. Jensen seemed to notice your reaction and pushed his thigh between your legs.

“Oh so that’s what this is about. I see nobody has fucked this tight, little pussy in a while and that’s why you’re snapping at people and undressing me with your eyes.” He said in a low, deep voice that had your pussy clenching around nothing.

A wave of arousal flooded your panties and you knew they were ruined a long time ago but now it felt like they had simply disintegrated.

He continued, “But don’t you worry, unfortunately I know what it feels like and I think I would very much like to help you with that.” He winked and if it wasn’t for the wall and him caging you in, your knees would have buckled and you would be a horny mess on the floor.

You noticed your breathing had become heavier and your lips had parted, your hands were balled in fists at your sides, your pussy throbbed in need and your whole body was shaking with lust and desire.

Jensen leaned down to look into your eyes and spoke softly, “Hey, if you don’t want this tell me right away.”

That seemed to snap you out of your sensory overload and you quickly nodded frantically.

“I want this. I want you to fuck me, Jensen.” You sputtered quickly before he could take his offer back.

The moment your consent reached his ears, the beautiful greens of his eyes were eclipsed by the black clouds of lust. He crashed his lips on yours in a bruising kiss that was all teeth and tongue. It was driven by pure lust and need and want and desire.

His hands were on you pushing and pulling and mapping out your entire body. Everything felt too much and not enough at the same time. When the need for air became too much you both parted, panting like you had just ran a marathon. He pushed his partly gloved hands underneath your jumper and pulled it off you leaving your upper body in the black tank top you were wearing.

His mouth moved towards your jaw, nipping and nibbling at the skin there while his hands squeezed your ass. His mouth went to your neck, to the spot behind your ear that drove you wild and sucked. And oh god did he suck hard. You were pretty sure you’d be sporting a big purple hickey but you couldn’t care less.

He kissed the valley of your breasts and suckled one of your clothed nipples as your back arched off the wall and you shamelessly let out a loud moan. He pushed your tank top up as he kneeled down, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

He pushed your leggings and your panties down in one go and both of you were shocked. You, to see that your panties hadn’t disintegrated and him, to see how wet you were. He looked up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and before you could comprehend what it meant, he dove inside your pussy like a starving man.

He let out a groan when he tasted you, gripping your thighs so tight that you were sure there'd be bruises there. You tangled your hands in his hair, keeping him in place but also giving yourself something to hold on to.

All your wet dreams and imaginations didn’t do justice to how delicious the burn of his beard felt between your thighs. He fucked you with his tongue and then went on to suck at your clit like a child sucking an ice lolly after playing for hours in the summer heat.

To say that you were a panting, moaning, whimpering, writhing and blubbering mess would be an understatement. You were at the mercy of this man’s mouth and you thanked your lucky stars for it. One of his hands left your thigh and came to encircle your core. Desperate to come, you started grinding on his face.

He pushed two of his thick fingers in and groaned at how easily they fit cause you were practically dripping at this point. He fucked you on his fingers hard all the while nibbling and sucking your clit. He moved up your body till he was face to face with you all the while thrusting his fingers into you at a merciless pace.

He crashed his lips on yours and pushed his tongue inside your mouth. You moaned at tasting yourself on his tongue. He moved his talented mouth towards your ear and nibbled on the lobe.

“You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing my fingers. Come on Y/n. Come for me.�� He whispered in your ear.

Like he had a remote control to your body, you came. And you came so hard that you saw stars. Your vision went white, your body went slack and you felt like you were filled to the brim with pleasure.

When you came back to your senses, the first thing you felt was his cock, hard and heavy, lined with your core, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on your ass supporting your weight and crushing you between his body and the wall. He looked at you to see if there was any hint of discomfort but when he couldn’t find any, he kissed you while pushing his cock deep inside you.

You had to admit that he was bigger than any guy you’ve been with and the stretch was just oh so good. He kissed you, nibbling on your lower lip til you got used to his girth. You clawed at his shoulders and the now not so short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Fu-uck Jensen. Move please. F-fuck me.” You begged not caring how desperate you sounded.

Jensen let out an animalistic growl upon hearing your words and pulled all the way out, only leaving the tip in and slammed back into you in one thrust. You let out a cry when his cock hit your g-spot with fucking precision.

He kept up his deadly pace, pounding into you so hard you were sure you’d feel it for days, that had the coil in your lower belly wound tight in no time. He hid his face in the crook of your neck. Only the sounds of his heavy breathing and grunts ,which to be honest should be illegal, and your moans and panting could be heard around the large set.

“Look at you,” He grunted in your ear, “taking my cock so good. You’re so tight. Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but clench your pussy hearing those words pouring out of his mouth.

“I’m not gonna last long. Come for me one more time Y/n. Come on my cock. Squeeze it.” He grunted, pushing one of his hands between your bodies and rubbing rough circles on your clit.

You came with a scream of his name. Your orgasm was so fucking intense that you knew in that moment no one will ever be able to make you come so hard other than this man. He fucked you through your orgasm. A few hard thrusts later he stilled deep inside you and came with a grunt that you’d remember till the day you die. He spilled hot ropes of cum and you milked his cock for all its worth.

When you both came down from your highs, you untangled yourselves from each other and cleaned yourselves the best you could. You quickly and quietly got dressed, the air filling with awkwardness.

When you got dressed, you bent down to pick up your stuff which had fallen and turned to leave when suddenly Jensen caught your wrist and turned you around so that now he was caged between you and the wall. He kissed you and it was all sweet and soft this time while you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your body into his.

“Don’t you dare think this was a one time thing. You and me. Dinner at my place at 8. Sounds good?” He asked, sincerely and sweetly.

Your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth to reply but before you could the walkie in your hand came to life and a voice sounded from the other end, “Jensen Ackles is needed now at the wardrobe. Jensen Ackles is needed now at the wardrobe.”

“Looks like I have to go.” Jensen said and pecked your lips once.

He walked backwards and shouted, “My place at 8. Don’t forget.” He gave you a wink before finally going out of your sight.

You stood there confused as to what had just happened in the last hour of your life.

*****

#jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x you #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #supernatural #jensen ackles #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester #jensen fic #jensen ackles fic #rpf #smut #spn rpf #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #spn fic

[natsukitakama]

Headcanon : Control feat Floch Forster

"Well since some writers claim that Floch would be rough in bed then how about smut Floch with a fem soft s/o, she’s not exactly a tease person, she’s just incredibly shy, needy and sensitive who gets embarrassed easily. I’m really curious if Floch would be rough or gentle with her if his s/o is soft and shy but when she’s naked, she gets embarrassed and cover herself"

Author note : Gotta admit I’m a little bit curious too, I mean the big boi got a huge switch energy. Like I can’t totally picture him being a 100%DOM or a 100%SUB maybe it’s just me but I feel like he is a switch a big one. I wrote a headcanon + a tiny scenario.

As usual I apologize for taking so long I hope you’ll enjoy it ♡

Also I don’t know what to do with my life anymore lol was it nasty enough ? Was it good ? I need to write more caliente headcanon I’m still insecure about it lol

Warning : NSFW / SMUT / Mention of spoil from season 4

SMUT : mention of spanking, mention of spitting, mention of rough sex, a little bit of hair pulling nothing bad

Masterlist

Sex with Floch is difficult, there’s nothing wrong with neither of you.

Since his return with Shinganshima, he kinda lost a part of him. He was never the tender one but this event surely broke what was left of his kindness.

It doesn’t mean he would act violently toward you, but he became easily frustrated and not in the good way. Meaning sometimes he will get angry easily, he tends to be violent each time someone doesn’t agree with him. He became a monster but he hasn't known that yet.

Now, he was really in love with you and knowing your personality he couldn’t really be too rough on you.

A part of him really enjoy being rough on you, knowing he was corruption you a little bit more each time he was thrusting into you. It fascinated him the way you would bend at each of his command, opening your mouth when it told you so, screaming begging when he gave you an order. Instead of being rough for the thrill of it, he was rough on you because he loves seeing you getting all red from pleasure not being able to talk because he was fucking you dumb.

Since back in Shinganshima he couldn’t control anything, he would be in control now especially in his sex life and since you were just co compliant with him. He couldn’t just leave this opportunity.

The fact that you were so shy around him even though you’ve been naked in front of him a lot of times never felt to tease him to be a little more rougher on you. Your personality just triggers his « dark instinct »

Now, we must not forget that in the beginning Floch was and would remain a switch, which mean sometimes he needs to feel you taking care of him. To put it simple Shinganshima broke him, and since no one tries to bring him back, he works on his own to not just fall apart.

Some times he needs comfort, some times he needs to be in control. Especially for sex, during a period, when he felt especially « weak » or at least fragile, he would put extra roughness on you meaning he’ll tend to bend you over a desk or anything for that matter as long as he can bend you over, moving your ass up spreading your legs widely so he could get a nice view of your ass and leg.

He might even went as far as to took a bunch of your hair and pull it so you would scream at the pain, and while your mouth would be widely open he won’t hesitate and spit into your mouth.

He also tends to put extra slapping at your ass just because he feels like it

You’re lucky that he is hitting all the good spot, cause the man is too lost on his own pleasure to even notice that well he is particularly rough. But don’t worry, you two got safe word just in case he is too lost on his feeling.

Or, when he feels cocky or just because he is tired from his works. Floch would just lay down on his bed, hands behind his head as you’re looking at him expecting to be taken by him. Then he will just narrow one of his brown eye and say « what ? You’re expecting me to take care of you ? Naah it’s not how it’s work (scuse me sir aren’t you the one who broke me last night ???) you want me y/n then take that cock cause I won’t put a single finger for you ».

But when he feels lonely or sad, or just because you feel like you needed to put him at his place. Spank him, edge him, overstimulate him, make him beg for release and that fucker would even cum harder than usual (little bastard). There’s one thing he might be against, it’s pegging, like a finger or a two why not but a whole toy in his butt ? You’ll need to be a little more convincing for this one (read : fuck him dumbs until he can’t even remember his name and he won’t even whine)

But to do that you’ll need to be extra confident with that, cause even though he is a switch don’t forget that he is most and foremost a jerk, so basically he won’t let you have his way with you easily especially if you tend to be super shy.

If you think that fucker won’t tease the hell out of you for being cocky ? You don’t know Floch.

« Well well what do we have here ??? And here I thought you were innocent Y/N »

« S-Shut up Floch »

« Make me. »

Damn brat *cough cough*

Anyway, if during foreplay or even in the « it » of the moment you felt insecure or sad, use your safe word, Floch isn’t really good at reading people and he might think you were acting extra shy as usual while in fact you were feeling bad over something. Then proceed to explain to him what’s wrong.

He is the stupid worshipper. Always like « Huh ? You think you’re ugly ? Are you stupid ? Of course you’re hot look at you ? I thought you were smarter than y/n » damn buddy it hurts coming from you. Also the dirty worshipper.

« Such a nasty hole you are y/n look at it all clutching around nothing waiting for me to fill it entirely. Fuck you’re wonderful y/n »

« Mamama look at those legs they were made to be wrapped around my hips »

« Damn it y/n you sure know how to suck a cock »

« Look at you taking my cock so well, I swear your swallow me without a blink of an eye what a good slut you are y/n »

Yeah that’s his praise

I’m sorry

He’s doing his best

So yeah he might be a switch if you’re too shy to dom him, well all he has to do his to take the leas right ?

Now if we’re focusing about your first time not just with him, like if you’re a virgin that would be another story.

A part of him want to be extra rough on you like he will corrupt you, you know ? Not really a kink of him but the thought of it got his dick hard as rock so safe to say that he is not against the idea of fucking you dumb.

But as the thought was starting to drive him crazy he realized that for a first time, knowing your personality being quite shy and embarrassed easily he might not be the best idea to just jump into you. Maybe taking your time together would be for the best, so both of you would learn about each other’s body, sweet spot, what to do or not do.

He won’t be too vanilla because that’s not how he is especially now that he joined the yeagarist, in fact his return from Shinganshima changed him into a cold man, mentally instable but somehow strong when it came to follow his belief, but still as I stated before he always needed control but also need a way to get out of his nightmare. So being rough with you in bed sound like a perfect way to escape his reality, of course it’s not healthier way but it’s work so he won’t complain.

Now that being said, even if it won’t be your first time together I can’t see him forcing you into things that make you uncomfortable. He is a dick, but he cares about you. He might try to convince you to at least give it a shot, especially if he felt that the reason that you’re refusing it’s just you being shy (even if he told in his own way that there no need to be shy round him). But he felt that something scares you, he won’t force you and won’t even bring it again.

I don’t feel like he is into gun play/ arm play for that matter, not into blood play either. He is surrounded by blood and weapons all the time, sex with you is supposed to be a safe place where he can escape his old demons so no gun for the baby.

In conclusion, the fact that you are shy angel won’t stop him for being you so it’s up to you to tell him what’s good for you or not.

I know for a shy person it’s difficult to talk about the sensitive subject but remember that communication is a key, he might be a dick and sometimes you’d feel like you can’t talk to him like he is an ass (he is but hey you love him) like he didn’t care about your opinion but that’s not true, you are important and probably the only thing that matter to him (aside from saving paradise but you includes so) so don’t be afraid.

Tiny scenario because it took me forever to post it as a compensation :

« Fuck yeah you feel amazing y/n »

For some reason today Floch was particularly generous with you, not that usually he is not. But today he felt like spoiling you. At first it started with multiple hot make-out session everytime you two were alone. Pushing you against the near wall or holding you against his firm chest, it’s like his lips couldn’t leave yours for like one minute. One of his hand was behind your neck keeping your head firmly against him as the other left for your ass to grab it. Your body was caught between his body and the wall, so all you could do was putting your arm around his neck and just enjoy his warmth as he was greedily kissing you. After all, you hadn’t got the chance to see your boyfriend for a while, to be exact after your mission in Mahr and the capture of Eren you barely caught a moment together to share a kiss. He claimed that there was nothing against you and that he was just very busy since the situation between Mahr and Paradis was still tight.

So, his little greediness was welcomed, you couldn’t help but starting to feel touch starved. You were missing him to the point that you started to wear some of his coat just to be able to catch some of his warmth. Of course you didn’t say anything about it, knowing your boyfriend you wouldn’t see the end of it. After kissing you for like the tenth time, Floch finally moved a little to be able to see you from your entirety. Lips swollen slightly open as you were taking your breath since he barley left you time to take a breath, hair a little messy for the way he was grabbing it firmly, cheeks all pink (probably because you were both embarrassed and turned on by his action). It was definitely a view that was worth it. Since his return from Mahr, Floch hasn't had time much to his dismay to mange some quality time with you, hell he couldn’t even remember the last you two has gone on a date together. Knowing the situation, and what was about to happen with the yeagarist he won’t be able to take you on a date before a long time. So he felt like he needed to take every occasion to have his way with you, kissing you, stroking your body, feeling you against him cause who knows when he’ll be able to have you close to him again ? He was starting to feel angry and eager;

Alongside, let’s be honest the yeagarist didn’t do anything to help him. All the time, he could hear them whining about some soldier who apparently wasn’t on their side, or about the fact that yeah some of them have spent a couple of days in jail. They were starting to get on his nerve, most of them were just spoiled brat who never went into hell and here they have the guts to complain about their condition ? What a shame. He started to feel his shoulder getting heavy. His muscles too were sore, his patience was slowly disappearing worst, he started to have nightmares again. It all started because he wasn’t with you, because he barely spent time with you. He needed you. He needed you right now.

« Floch a-are you okay ? Y-You keep staring at me »

« Do I ? Sorry you just looked amazing all fucked up because of him »

« I-I’m not fucked up »

« Yet. »

A race and a couple of clothes on the floor later, here you were bending over his bed. Face down with a hand firmly against your neck, ass up all good for Floch as he was grinding against you as if it would be the last time that you two would have sex. You were used to Floch being rough against you and to be honest you didn’t mind it since he was hitting all the good spot, and the way he is grunting each time you were clutching against him was music to his hear. Also the dirty talk didn’t help. But today was different, for some reason the foreplay lasts longer than usual, you noticed that Floch took extra time kissing each inch of your body, stroking everything that he might forget. He also ate you out longer than usual putting extra time to make you cum multiple time before he could even put the head of his dick in you. You didn’t mind though, it was good to be spoiled by Floch without even begging for it.

« I could spend my life between your leg y/n but now it’s time for the real fun, come on I want you on four for me. Spread those gorgeous legs of yours for me cause I can’t spend any minute without being in you »

As he was thrusting into you senseless, you felt that he was slowing down but still keeping a firm rhythm against you. Then you felt your body moving, so you could be face to him, he moved his own body too bringing your ankle around his head as your legs were now on his shoulder. The light coming from the windows highlight his toned chest and his arm muscles, his hair were a mess from all the time he put them in place. Even after getting intimate with him multiple times, getting naked in front of him was still something that embarrassed you. He knew that. So it was no surprise for you that you hear him chuckled at your state before slowing down putting your knee at your chest, so he could kiss you again for like the hundred time.

« You felt like heaven babe I’m not kidding I can die now it would be perfect. So tight and warm for me »

And then as if nothing happened, he roughly starts to thrust into you. Floch’s head was now in the crook of your neck as he was breathing heavily, your hand were now on his hair grabbing it each time he was hiding your sweet spot. His movement were kinda slow though as he was taking time to thrust deeply into you reaching whenever spot he was looking for, you swore you could feel his head on your stomach or maybe it was just you losing your mind. It didn’t help that you suddenly felt his hand between your leg touching you, stroking you, teasing you so you would approach your climax quicker than him. No doubt that Floch planned to either edge you or overstimulate you, knowing how he spoils you before, he might overstimulate you until you would be nothing but a mess.

How long would you last before loosing your mind ? That’s what Floch was about to know.

#request #Shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titans #aot #floch forster #floch x reader #floch forster x reader #aot floch #snk floch #snk x reader #aot x reader #Floch Forster headcanon #eren yeager #eren jaeger

[baepsaesbae]

None of Your Business

Pairing— Jung Hoseok x reader  

Genre— SMUT, enemies to lovers au, business/professional life au, slight angst, slight fluff, mutual pining bc im a slut for that

Warnings— inappropriate workplace behavior, explicit unprotected sex, face sitting, slight biting, one (1) butt slap, dirty talk, swearing, switch!Hoseok, Hoseok being a god damn nuisance, (also I’m not a business person so if you are and I state inaccurate/dumb things I apologize in advance)

Word Count— 8.9k

Summary— You have a shot at attaining a huge promotion at your company. The only problem standing in your way is the same one that annoyed you in college. Jung Hoseok. How will you manage to spend an entire weekend at a conference juggling impressing your supervisors while simultaneously battling Hoseok?

A/N— This super cool banner was made by the one and only @kimtaehyunq​, thank you so much! Please let me know what you guys think. Feel free to leave a comment or send an ask! 

The business world has always been mercilessly cutthroat; that’s one of the first things business students learn when they enter college. The competition to get an internship at a top company was fierce. Recruiting has to start at least a year in advance if you even want to give yourself a chance.

Luckily for you, you were the top student in your program. Well, one of the top students. Over the past four years, your position had been flip flopping with some surprisingly competent bonehead who annoyingly plagued your life.

“Excited to be graduating this semester, ___?” an all too familiar voice interrupted your studying.

“Excited to graduate as top of the class? Yes, of course,” you replied coldly. 

“Top of the class? That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?” the handsome boy sat on your table.

“I think it’ll be pretty much set in stone after this last final,” you returned your attention to your notes.

“Well, even if you’re number one, I think experience matters a lot in this field,” the boy refused to leave you alone. 

“Then it’s a good thing I did an internship with one of the top companies over the summer,” you glared at him.

“Oh yeah, how could I forget about the internship that you stole from me?” the boy pouted.

“I was obviously more qualified. And how could you say that when you stole my opportunity to go on a study abroad trip with my favorite professor last Spring Break? I’m still furious that he chose you over me solely because you were sleeping with his daughter,” you retorted.

“That was a coincidence! I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that,” he tried to defend himself.

“Whatever. Do me a favor and leave me alone, Hoseok. Hopefully today will be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“That’s kind of sad to think about. Who else will get under my skin and annoy me every time they open their mouth?” Hoseok bantered, “Also, I told you to call me Hobi.”

“That would imply that we’re on friendly terms. I don’t like lying, Hoseok.”

“Fine. Good luck on that last final. See you around,” Hoseok hopped off the table and patted your head.

“Don’t touch me,” you grumbled as he walked away.

That was five years ago.

The company that you interned with gave you a job offer immediately after graduation. Quickly moving up through the ranks proved to be an easy feat since your tenacious nature made you the ideal employee. 

You were currently waiting outside of the CEO’s office. Seconds felt like hours as you mindlessly bounced your leg. It was eerily silent, and all you could hear were the click clacks of the receptionist’s keyboard as she worked. You looked around at the bleak décor that was a sorry excuse for modernism as you racked your brain. Were you in trouble? Did something happen? You were summoned up for a meeting but had no clue what it was going to be about. 

Once you were finally called in, you were greeted by both the CEO and VP of the company. 

“___, please take a seat,” the CEO politely smiled, “As you know, I am getting old. I am unmarried, so therefore I have no one to oversee the company after I’m gone. The executive council and I have been looking for people to fill my shoes. Or at the very least, take a seat on the executive council if one of them were to take my place.”

“Your numbers have been exceptional this month,” the VP chimed in, “And every month prior. After much deliberation, your name has been cast into the lot.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Being a member of the executive council at your age was almost unheard of.

“There is one other candidate that has also been hand selected at the other branch. You both are to attend a conference in which you will mingle with executives from other companies. There will also be a time in which you will pitch an idea to me on how to make this company better,” the CEO continued when he saw your loss for words.

“First and foremost I would like to thank you for this opportunity. I will do my best to live up to your expectations,” you bowed to show your gratitude. 

“Perfect. The conference is in two weeks. I believe that should give you ample time to prepare your presentation,” the VP shook your hand.

After shaking hands with the CEO, you turned to leave. However, something was nagging you. 

“May I ask who the other candidate is?” you inquired.

“Jung Hoseok from the northern branch,” the VP answered without missing a beat. 

“Ah,” your brain exploded.

“Do you know him?” the CEO asked.

“We went to college together. I know of him,” you said curtly.

“Well you’ll finally get your chance to meet him. I’ve heard he’s very popular with the ladies at his branch. That’s not pertinent to his skills; however, you can’t blame an old man for wanting to know the gossip of his own employees,” the old man chuckled.

“Of course,” you smiled politely as you excused yourself from the office.

Jung Hoseok? That douchebag? Just your luck to run into him again (to fight for the next step in your career no less!). You think back on all the run ins you had with him during your collegiate days. Nothing but irritating memories of the two of you competing for the top spot came to mind. 

Whatever. It didn’t matter who the other candidate was. You had to get to work and come up with a brilliant plan that will impress the CEO. You brushed the thought of Hoseok aside. It had been a couple of years, maybe he wouldn’t even remember you. There’s no need to stress out over something so trivial. 

The weekend of the conference had finally arrived. You were instructed to travel together with Hoseok. You waited alone at the airport terminal. If you were lucky, Hoseok wouldn’t show up at all. You weren’t. 

“___!” Hoseok called out your name in a sing songy voice.

“Hello Hoseok. Glad to see you haven’t changed,” you were already irritated.

“How are you? It’s been so long. You look great!” he went in for a hug but you turned away. 

He stood awkwardly with his arms in the air for a second until he bounced back. He took the seat next to you and began chatting. You answered his list of questions apathetically. 

“Did I do something to offend you?” Hoseok finally asked.

“I just think it’s funny that even after all these years, I still have to compete with you,” you retorted.

“Still hung up on that? It doesn’t even matter anymore. We got good jobs and now we’re here. Together! Isn’t that cool?”

“No, not at all. Although I guess it will be nostalgic coming out on top once again,” you smirked.

“Your competitive nature always amused me. You’re so cute when you lose,” Hoseok teased.

“I never lost to you,” you gasped.

“That’s not what that one study abroad trip with Professor whatshisname says,” he cooed. 

“Professor Namjoon! You knew he was my favorite, you prick. At least I graduated as top of the class with honors,” you argued. 

“My GPA was off by thousandths of a point. That doesn’t really bother me. But I’m glad you have something that makes you happy,” Hoseok shrugged. 

‘This is gonna be one long fucking weekend’, you thought. 

The flight was short and pleasant since Hoseok left you alone. You wanted to see as little of him as possible during this trip. You intended to get that promotion no matter what. 

After the plane landed, the two of you made your way to the hotel that was hosting the conference. 

“Hi, last name ___ and Jung?” you smiled at the hotel concierge. 

“Ah yes, you guys are here for the business conference?” the concierge asked.

“Indeed we are!” Hoseok chimed in from behind you.

“Alrighty, I got you guys all checked in. Enjoy your stay!” the concierge handed you a singular set of keys.

“Oh, I’m sorry, there must be a mistake. We’re in two separate rooms,” you politely tried to hand back the keys.

“The reservation is for a singular suite,” the concierge explained.

“Probably cheaper that way,” Hoseok reasoned while nodding.

Your fake smile faltered for a second. How the hell are you supposed to spend an entire weekend sharing a room with the most despicable person on the planet?

At least the hotel itself was grand. There was no way you’d ever be able to afford to stay in such a swanky place. The lobby was decorated with ornate marble pillars that were laced with gold trimmings. It even had a fancy fountain in the middle to greet incoming guests, which you thought was a bit overkill. 

“Excited to sleep with me, princess?” Hoseok teased, obviously picking up on your annoyance.

“Fuck off. Stay the hell away from my bed and my things,” you spat.

“Who’s to say that you won’t be able to stay away from my bed?” he smirked. 

“You wish,” you rolled your eyes as the elevator finally stopped on the top floor. 

You led the way to your shared suite with Hoseok. The trip was exhausting; you couldn’t wait to take a nap on your large luxurious bed that was probably topped with Egyptian cotton (one can dream). 

You immediately dropped your bags on the side of the room and flopped onto the bed, shutting your eyes. 

“Interesting,” Hoseok said.

You ignored him.

“Very interesting,” he continued. 

“What? What is so interesting?” you sat up and glared at him in frustration.

“Take a quick glance around the room,” he suggested.

Your heart sank, “No fucking way.”

You loved this trope in fanfics, but in real life? Fuck no, not with this asshole. Yes, there was only one luxurious king sized bed in the room. 

“Well, looks like you're going to sleep on the floor,” you smiled sweetly at him.

“The bed is huge, we can definitely share,” Hoseok argued.

“I think the fuck not,” you dropped back onto the bed, “I’m sure you’ll whore your way into someone else’s bed each night anyway.”

“I don’t think I need to, not when I’m already sharing a bed with you,” he flirted.

“Bite me, Hoseok,” you sighed, not in the mood for a tit for tat.

“Are you into that? I’d happily oblige,” he responded as he sat on the other side of the bed.

“I’m afraid that’s confidential information that you are not privy to,” you huffed, turning away from him.

“Are you really going to make me sleep on the floor?” he asked quietly. 

“Would you listen to me if I said I wanted you to?” you were curious to know.

“Look, I’ll admit that I can be an asshole, but I’m not a creep. If you’re really not comfortable with sharing a bed with me I’ll sleep on the floor. All I’d ask of you is to spare me a pillow.”

There was a short silence as you mulled over your options. 

“Fine, we can share the bed. But I demand a pillow divider to be set between us,” you caved.

“Wahoo! Thank you so much for your generosity, ___. Do you want to use the bathroom to get ready for bed first, or shall I?” Hoseok celebrated.

“I’ll get ready first,” you lazily rolled off the bed and trudged to the bathroom.

You were so tired that you missed hearing Hoseok’s soft chuckle as he watched you stumble to the bathroom. He patiently waited for you to finish before it was his turn to get ready for bed. You were sound asleep by the time he was done.

The blankets were haphazardly sprawled out on your side of the bed. One leg was under the covers while the other was completely exposed. Your mouth was agape with a bit of drool seeping out, and your shirt lifted up to expose some of your tummy.

Hoseok smiled at the sight. Never in a million years did he think he’d ever be lucky enough to see you like this. He pulled down your shirt in an attempt to make you look decent, but there was nothing he could do about your drooling. He tucked you into the sheets properly, making sure that the blankets covered you up to your neck.

He settled into his side of the bed. You forgot to put up the pillow divider. Hoseok stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He turned over to face you in an attempt to get comfortable. 

‘She looks so sweet. Almost cute,’ Hoseok thought. 

He quickly brushed the thought aside. You were his rival, and have been since the first day of college years ago. He sat up and created a pillow barrier. Bickering with you first thing in the morning was the last thing he wanted. 

The first day of the conference was filled with attending various meetings while attempting to make as many networking connections as possible. You got up early and left the room before Hoseok was even awake. The less time spent with him, the better. 

Of course, completely avoiding him was impossible. You were to sit with your respective company during the meetings and presentations. The VP sat between you and Hoseok, while the CEO switched between sitting on either side. You were thankful for the separation, but nervous nonetheless.

The CEO would occasionally lean over to ask you questions about the presentations, and he intently listened to your responses. The VP would merely look over occasionally to give you a smile or wink; he acted more like moral support. You knew the entire weekend would practically be an interview, but you underestimated how anxiety inducing it would be. 

The higher ups finally left you alone when lunchtime came around. You picked up your lunch in the hotel’s decadent ballroom that had been turned into an eating area. You scouted an empty table in the far corner of the room in the hopes of finding some peace and quiet.

Hoseok had other plans. He saw you sit down at the table and happily followed you.

“Hey there buddy!” he greeted you as he sat down.

“Shouldn’t you be networking with new people?” you rolled your eyes at him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“I’ve been doing that since before you were awake. I think I deserve a break,” you replied.

“I forgot that you’re quite the hard worker. I couldn’t have asked for better competition,” he said.

“Was that a compliment?” you asked with an amused grin.

“Yeah, and it’s the only one you’ll ever get from me. Is your pitch to the CEO ready?” Hoseok inquired.

“It has been. And no, I’m not going to tell you what it is,” you proudly answered.

“Oh c’mon! Mine is ready too! You’re a damn fool if you think I’m gonna steal your idea. I’m just curious,” he pouted.

“Fine. I’ll tell you if you tell me yours first,” you offered.

“So distrustful,” Hoseok feigned offense, “Okay, so I think offering higher bonuses for working overtime would be a good start. There could even be competitive bonuses in each department for the person who gets the best numbers that month.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” you said at first, “But don’t you think that would just create more animosity between coworkers?”

“I think competition is a healthy motivation factor. It worked for me in college,” Hoseok defended his idea.

“Everyone is competitive in college. Especially in the business schools,” you argued.

“Yeah, but not everyone is you,” Hoseok stated. 

“Excuse me?”

“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t be here today if you weren’t always on my ass,” he admitted, “Being your rival was kinda fun. You got flustered so easily, it was almost cute.”

“I do not get flustered easily! Plus, it was always you who was on my ass,” you huffed.

“I see that you still do,” Hoseok laughed, “But seriously. The universe brought us together again so I guess it’s telling me to thank you.”

“That’s uncharacteristically nice of you to say,” you looked away from him to hide your reddening cheeks, “You pushed me too, so thanks for that...I guess.”

“Mhm, no problem buddy. I’ll see you in the next presentation room,” he got up to leave.

“Wait Hoseok!” you called after him.

“Yeah?” he turned around quickly.

“I didn’t tell you my idea--”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s brilliant,” he winked before walking away.

The rest of the day passed by quickly. You retired to your room, exhausted from all the forced socialization. Your mind was stuck on what Hoseok said earlier. Maybe he wasn’t as big of an asshole as you thought. Perhaps you mistook a friendly rivalry for toxic competition.

You were sprawled out across the bed in your pjs when Hoseok entered the room.

“Are you gonna sleep like that?” he asked.

“You’re gonna have to forcibly remove me from your side if you want it that badly,” you replied with your eyes still closed. 

“That’s fine,” Hoseok said as he abruptly rolled you over to your side.

“Hey!” you squeaked out in protest.

“It was either that, or I laid on top of you and suffocated you.”

“Hmph,” you let out a displeased noise.

“Oh my god, you’re so bratty. How old are you?” Hoseok chuckled.

“Old enough to know that you’re a meanie,” your response was muffled by the pillow you buried your face in.

“Sorry I’m a what?” Hoseok teased.

“A meanie!” you quickly got up and slammed a pillow into Hoseok, catching him by surprise.

“I’m the meanie? You just pelted me with a pillow!” he cowered away from you.

“And I’ll do it again!” you threatened.

“I don’t think so,” Hoseok suddenly lurched forward, tackling you back onto your side of the bed.

You’re both laughing at this point. Seeing Hoseok up close and personal made you realize how handsome he truly was. Had he always been this attractive? Hoseok’s cheerful laugh echoed throughout the room as he loomed over you, pinning you down.

“I’ll get off if you promise not to hit me with a pillow ever again,” Hoseok tried to say in a serious tone, but his smile betrayed him.

“Sorry, I can’t make such a ridiculous promise,” you sassed.

“God, you really are so bratty. Kinda cute, kinda naughty,” Hoseok tsked.

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” you stuck your tongue out at him.

Hoseok leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Oh, I’m sure there’s something I could do.”

That sent chills down your spine. This was perhaps the most intimate moment you’ve shared with someone in a long time. 

“Keep dreaming then, lover boy,” you said. Truth be told, just that one sentence turned you on, but you couldn’t let him know that.

“As you wish,” Hoseok released you and retreated back to his side of the bed. 

“Maybe you aren’t as big of an asshole as I remembered,” you chuckled.

“You thought I was an asshole?” Hoseok laughed.

“I did. Maybe I still do. Not that it matters, we’ll never see each other again after this stupid conference.”

“That’s not true,” Hoseok disagreed, “I’ll be on the executive council, so you may see me from time to time.”

“I like the confidence. Too bad it’s in vain,” you teased, “I’m going to bed. Our day starts early tomorrow.”

“Our?”

“The. The day starts early tomorrow. Just go to bed Hoseok,” your turned over to conceal the faint smile on your face. Maybe he wasn’t so bad afterall. 

The second day of the conference started off as boring as the previous day. The various presenters droned on about different strategies regarding the improvement of a company with a plethora of charts and numbers to back it all up. The CEO wasn’t as talkative today to either you or Hoseok. The VP still made his reassuring gestures to you, flashing smiles and winks here and there.

“Can I see you privately after the last morning presentation?” the VP whispered to you.

“Yes, of course!” you excitedly answer. Currying the VP’s favor may come in handy later. 

After the last presentation, the VP discreetly led you to a vacant corner. His tone became serious as he began to speak.

“The CEO discussed his initial thoughts with me last night. I know I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s currently leaning towards Hoseok,” he explained.

The news made your heart sink.

“I’d rather see you on the executive council, if I’m being frank. My pride is on the line since I recommended you,” his voice lowered, “However, I think there is a way to sway his opinion.”

“Which is?” you eagerly asked. 

“Someone might overhear here, meet me in my room in an hour,” the VP covertly handed you his room key.

He walked away without another word. The fact that the VP was on your side gave you a faint sliver of hope. The next hour of free time was spent frantically networking while your mind was obviously elsewhere. Every now and then you heard Hoseok’s voice, and just the sound of it spurred you on to make even more connections. By the end of it, your face began to hurt from all the fake smiling. 

You were standing in front of the VP’s hotel room exactly an hour after your secret rendezvous. The door opened immediately after you knocked.

“You’re extremely punctual; that’s wonderful,” the VP observed as you entered, “Make yourself comfortable.”

You scoured the room to find a place to sit. Your uneasiness must have been obvious, as the VP gestured towards the bed.

“Thank you,” you said as you awkwardly sat at the edge of the bed, “What is your plan?”

“It’s quite simple actually,” the VP sat beside you, “I just need to get to know you better. That way I can give an authentic and flawless review to the CEO.”

“So, you’re going to conduct an in-depth interview?” you asked timidly as you noticed him scooting closer to you.

“You could say that,” he voice lowered as he rested his hand on your thigh, “We have about 45 free minutes remaining. I believe you should make the most of this interview, Miss ___,” he smiled slyly as his hand began to travel upwards.

“How dare you?!” you yelled as you abruptly pushed him off of you, “I’m going to report you to HR!”

“Then say goodbye to your promotion. You really think you were chosen just because your numbers have been decent? You definitely were not the CEO’s first choice. He didn’t even know who you were. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here,” he explained with a shit eating grin. 

“Then why the hell would you even bring me up to the CEO? Just so you could try and sleep with me?” you were enraged.

“Don’t blame me for wanting some eye candy to entertain me during this god awful convention,” he smirked.

“Fuck you, you fucking pig,” you spat.

“Ohhh feisty. I like that in a girl. If you leave now, you can kiss that promotion goodbye,” the VP called out to you as you stormed towards the door.

“And you can kiss my ass, and shove that promotion up yours,” you snapped, flipping him off before slamming the door behind you.

Tears welled in your eyes as you made your way to your room. You were absolutely distraught. Had all your hard work been for nothing? Had you been nothing but a pretty sight for men to stare at for the past five years?

You entered your hotel room to find Hoseok laying on the bed. You quickly wiped away your tears; you hadn’t expected him to be there. He appeared to be taking a nap. You watched his chest rise and fall slowly as you snuck into the bathroom. You freshened yourself up to the best of your abilities. Maybe a little power nap would help calm your nerves. Too bad Hoseok was taking up the bed. Fuck.

You left the bathroom to see if maybe you could curl up in one of the corners of the bed. Luckily, Hoseok was on his side of the bed. You set a timer for half an hour and slowly crawled under the covers. Your eyelids felt heavy as you closed them.

“If you wanted to cuddle you could’ve just let me know,” Hoseok’s voice surprised you.

“Well, I don’t. Leave me alone,” you responded.

“What if I want to cuddle?” he asked.

“There is an abundance of perfectly good pillows for you to use,” you sighed, then sniffled a little.

“Are you sick?” Hoseok asked with a worried tone.

“No, I’m fine,” you answered quickly, panicking. 

“___, what’s wrong?” Hoseok was sitting up now.

“Nothing, leave me alone,” you turned away.

“If you insist, I won’t push it. Just know that you can talk to me if you need to,” he offered.

You heard him get off the bed. You pulled the sheets over your head to hide your face. You cried silently as Hoseok shuffled around the room, presumably getting ready to leave. Suddenly, he pounced on you.

“Hoseok! What the fu--” you cried out as he yanked the sheets off of you.

“Surprise attack!” he gleefully exclaimed. 

His expression quickly changed when he saw your tear streaked face. You looked up at him with puffy eyes. You were too exhausted to hold your cold stare. Instead, you looked away in embarrassment.

“___, what happened?” he asked softly.

“It doesn’t matter. But congrats, you basically got the promotion,” you laughed in defeat.

“You spoke with the CEO?” Hoseok was shocked.

“No, with the VP. That stupid son of a bitch. He--nevermind. I blew my chance, so the job is all yours. I am almost positive that I am unemployed now as well,” the tears returned and you couldn’t stop them.

“Hey, ___, it’s okay,” Hoseok tried to comfort you, “If the CEO didn’t tell you himself, then you can’t be 100% certain.”

“I was literally only invited because the VP tried to get in my pants!” you blurted out.

“What?” Hoseok was dumbfounded.

“He just told me that I’d have the job if I had sex with him. Can you fucking believe that? How long have I not been taken seriously? This has been so demoralizing,” you let it all out.

“Aw, c’mere,” Hoseok pulled you up and gave you a warm embrace, “What did you say to him?”

“I told him to shove it,” you sniffled against his firm chest. 

“There’s the you I know. You haven’t changed a bit,” he chuckled, “We can talk to the CEO together tomorrow about this.”

“Why would you help me? The promotion is basically yours because of this,” you sighed.

“I don’t really care for it, if I’m being honest. I’m satisfied with my job now. I don’t want any more responsibilities,” he answered while stroking your hair. 

“Then why are you here?” you looked up at him.

“I only agreed to come after they told me that you’d be here,” he admitted. 

You didn’t know what to say. Too many things have happened in the past hour alone. 

“Don’t get it twisted, I was just curious to see how you’ve been after all these years. Plus a free trip is always enticing. Getting to share a bed with you has just been an added bonus,” he smiled.

Your timer rang, causing you to break away from Hoseok’s arms. 

“Guess it’s time to go to more boring meetings. Yay,” Hoseok feigned enthusiasm. 

“I’m gonna stay here. There’s no point in me attending anymore,” you stated.

“Nope, you’re going. I’m dragging you with me! You gotta show the VP that he didn’t frazzle you at all. Fuck that guy. Well, not literally,” Hoseok was pulling you out of bed.

Hoseok subtly made sure that you sat between him and the CEO the entire time. You caught him giving the VP dirty looks, which made you feel a little better. 

You quickly excused yourself after the last meeting and tried to make a break for your room. Unfortunately, Hoseok prevented you from doing so. 

“You got a date for the banquet tonight?” he asked.

“No. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem because I’m not going. Have fun with your date though,” you shook your head.

“Who said I had a date?”

“I’m sure women were basically throwing themselves at you.”

“You’re not wrong, but I turned them all down. I have my eyes set on one gal.”

“Lucky her, I guess,” you rolled your eyes.

“Indeed. Although I still gotta ask her,” he looked around the room as if he was searching for her.

“You better hurry. Isn’t it in a couple hours?”

“Yep. Alright, here goes nothing!” Hoseok rushed off, finally giving you the chance to disappear.

You let out a sigh of relief as the elevator doors start to close. However, someone’s hand shot through at the last second. Hoseok stumbled in as the elevator doors reopened. You groaned. Why can’t you escape him?

“Did she say yes?” you asked with an indifferent tone.

“Not sure yet. Will you go to the banquet with me?” Hoseok asked.

“Fuck off.”

“Alright, well she just said no. Ouch,” Hoseok clicked his tongue. 

“Wait, are you being serious?” your eyes widened.

“If the word ‘date’ threw you off, then I’m happy with going as friends,” he proposed. 

“I’m flattered, but I’m really not in the mood to party with random strangers.”

“You don’t have to. Just party with me. Why would I let you be sad and mopey all alone in a hotel room when you could be drinking free booze?”

“Is the alcohol is free?”

“Duh, it’s all being charged to the company. Plus dinner is served.”

“Ok fine, I’ll go. I guess I didn’t pack that stupid dress for nothing.”

“Let’s not allow a gorgeous dress to go to waste,” Hoseok agreed.

“You haven’t even seen it,” you suppressed a smile. 

“Anything can be gorgeous if you’re the one wearing it,” he winked.

“Oh, shut up,” a small smile cracked on your face.

Hoseok was the first to get ready for the banquet. He wanted your look to be a surprise so he insisted on going first. You were beginning to find his weird yet endearing antics kind of cute.

You weren’t prepared when he came out of the bathroom. You were well aware that Hoseok was a handsome guy, maybe even handsome enough to model. However, you weren’t ready when Hoseok emerged in a grey suit with his hair styled to reveal his forehead. His radiance was comparable to that of the sun, and he only shone brighter when he smiled at you. 

“You look good,” you tried to act cool.

“Thank you! I’ll admit I do enjoy dressing up from time to time. But who doesn’t, am I right?” he beamed.

You nodded as you hauled your things into the bathroom. After about an hour, you were ready: fully dressed, makeup done, confidence soaring. You had forgotten how therapeutic dressing up could be. 

Your dress was a deep emerald green that was elegant yet seductive. It had a side slit that flirtatiously showed off one of your legs. The neckline gracefully outlined your cleavage while still remaining on the classy side.

“Holy shit. You look amazing!” Hoseok praised you as soon as you stepped out.

“I was only trying to match you,” you said shyly, trying to hide your flushed cheeks.

“I think it’s safe to say that we’ll be the most breathtaking duo there. Shall we depart?” he extended out an arm.

The dinner started out with boring speeches by people you didn’t care to remember the names of. Hoseok elected to sit at the table furthest away from the stage, which was an excellent choice. That allowed the two of you to chat the night away in hushed voices. You both had already gone through five glasses of wine by the time the speeches were finally over. 

“The dance floor is now open! Enjoy the rest of the night, and don’t forget that there’s an open bar!” the MC shouted through the mic.

The lights dimmed and a disco ball lowered in the center of the room. People began to crowd the dance floor. You laughed with Hoseok as you both observed various awkward shuffles and sways. 

“Wanna dance?” Hoseok yelled over the music.

“I can’t!” you yelled back.

“I’m sure you can! Let’s go!” Hoseok didn’t wait for a reply.

He dragged you to an empty space on the dance floor. The two of you began drawing attention to yourselves as soon as you stepped out. Two beauties were dancing in the open for everyone to see. You shyly swayed to the rhythm of the music and laughed at Hoseok’s silly moves. However, Hoseok began to move in a way that was absolutely bewitching. He looked like a professional dancer with the way he commanded his body to hit every beat. Hoseok had drawn a very large crowd as people began cheering him on. 

You were amazed by his stage presence. You’ve always had a thing for dancers, and he looked downright sexy. The song ended and Hoseok gave his audience a dramatic bow, awarding him deafening applause. 

“I didn’t know you could dance!” you shouted when he returned to your side.

“I like to dance in my free time! Did you like it?” he shouted back.

“I’ll admit it was sexy,” you laughed.

“You think I’m sexy?”

“Maybe I do,” you winked.

You had more fun than you expected while dancing with Hoseok. He made you feel secure, so you were able to let loose. You didn’t care what you looked like, as long as Hoseok was there with you. 

The night progressed and you began to feel bold. A particularly raunchy song came on, as if it were asking you to grind on Hoseok. And that’s exactly what you did. You guided his hands to your hips as you grinded into his crotch

“You sure you wanna be doing that?” Hoseok spoke into your ear with a low voice.

“Absolutely,” you replied.

Hoseok spun you around and gazed at you intimately while he brought you closer into his body. Various body parts were rubbing against each other now. The sexual tension was palpable. 

Hoseok’s hands were running up and down your body, and your mouth was dangerously close to his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. You couldn’t help yourself; you leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on his neck. His low growl was an indication that he liked it, so you kissed him again with more vigor. 

“You’re going to have to stop,” he scolded.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Did I overstep your boundaries?” you were embarrassed.

“Absolutely not. But I can’t fuck you out here in public now can I?” he towed you off the dance floor and made a beeline for the elevators. 

Thank god no one else was in the elevator, neither of you could keep your paws off of each other. Hoseok’s hands were unabashedly feeling you up and down while his crotch was slowly grinding into yours. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as you planted kisses along his sharp jawline.

Hoseok couldn’t stop whispering naughty things into your ear during the entire elevator trip up to your shared room. His lowered voice sent chills down your spine as he expressed just how eager he was to finally have you. You felt yourself getting wetter by the second.

“I wanted to strip off that dress the moment I saw you wearing it,” he cooed, “God, I can’t wait to see how beautiful you’ll look underneath me.”

“Hoseok, do you ever shut up?” you teased with a coy smile.

“I dunno, you might have to make me,” he played along.

“Maybe sitting on your handsome face will do the trick,” you said as you nipped his ear.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.��

The elevator doors finally opened, and Hoseok quickly dragged you out. He immediately tore off your dress the moment the hotel room door was closed. You did him the same favor as you frantically unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his toned body. 

“Why don’t you be a good boy and wait for me on the bed?” you suggested.

“Yes ma’am,” he complied, his eyes never leaving your body.

“Like what you see?” you asked, turning around slowly to fully show off the lingerie that perfectly complimented your body. 

“You are so fucking sexy, ___,” Hoseok smiled in awe.

“I’m so glad you think so. You’re not too bad yourself,” you winked at him.

You finally joined Hoseok on the bed. You kiss his body from his abdomen all the way up his chest before stopping at his mouth. You took a second to relish the feeling of his plush lips against yours before he deepened the kiss with a ferocious intensity. 

“Wanna try and shut me up now?” Hoseok lifted his eyebrows suggestively once the kiss broke.

“With pleasure,” you responded as you began to position yourself above him, “Wait, do you want me to take this off?” you gestured to your undergarments.

“No need,” he said before abruptly pulling aside your panties.

You slowly lowered yourself onto his face and stopped when you felt his breath on your pussy. Hoseok impatiently gripped your hips and pulled you directly onto his tongue. The sudden contact made you gasp. Hoseok didn’t waste any time getting down to business.

He flattened his tongue out to cover as much area as possible as he licked across your folds. He expertly flicked and lapped your pussy in the perfect places. Your legs began to tremble, and you had to grip onto the bed’s headboard for support. 

You looked down to see the beautiful man’s face buried in your pussy; that sight alone was almost enough to bring you over the edge. Hoseok’s hands slithered their way up to your chest, where he began to twist and pull at your sensitive nipples through your bra. 

“You taste--so good,” Hoseok panted out from underneath you.

“Should I get off--fuck!” you were interrupted by Hoseok sucking on your clit.

His mouth was heaven sent. Your body began to heat up and soon you lost the strength to hold yourself up even against the headboard. 

You cried out as you came all over Hoseok’s face. His face was glistening with your juices as he smiled up at you. He seductively licked his lips to taste you again.

“Your turn?” you asked.

“As much as I wanna see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I think I need to be inside you more,” he replied as he repositioned himself.

He stripped off the rest of his clothing. You watched with admiration as more of his skin became exposed.

“You can take off the fancy underwear now,” he said once he caught you staring.

“You don’t want to see it anymore?” you fakeed a pout.

“___, you’re drop dead gorgeous in it. However, I advise you to take it off yourself because I won’t hold back. I don’t want to ruin your underwear, just you,” he replied.

Hoseok mixed in little nibbles while he kissed along your neck. Your voice dripped with bliss as you quietly moaned. 

“I guess you do like being bitten, huh? What about this?” Hoseok licked your neck, causing you to squirm underneath him.

“I think I like that too,” you whispered, biting your lip.

You wriggled out of your undergarments, leaving yourself completely naked in front of Hoseok. You pull at the hem of Hoseok’s underwear, eager to see what he was packing.

You were not disappointed. Although he was well endowed, what he lacked in length was made up for in girth. 

“Do you want me to use a condom?” he asked.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m pretty sure I’m clean. I haven’t been intimate in an embarrassingly long amount of time,” you admitted, blushing.

“I find that hard to believe,” Hoseok said while kissing around your face, “Since you’re so damn beautiful,” his lips found yours and led you into a passionate kiss. 

His hips began to grind into yours, his dick rubbing against your bare pussy. You wrapped your legs around him, bringing him closer.

“Please don’t tease me,” you pleaded.

“What are the magic words?” Hoseok teased.

“Fuck me, Hobi,” you begged.

“Oh my fucking god,” he growled.

He slammed his hips into yours, not giving you enough time to adjust to him. The stretch was intense at first, but it soon turned into nothing but pleasure. Your euphoria grew as he rhythmically bucked his hips into you. 

Hoseok spread your legs out as wide as you could go, giving him quite the erotic view that only aroused him more. You tried to stifle your moans, but were failing miserably.

“Don’t hold back baby, let me hear you. Show me how good I make you feel,” he leaned over to whisper into your ear. 

You complied instantly, your moans resounding around the room. Hoseok’s position allowed him to hit you deeply with every stroke. Without a word, he pulled out of you and flipped you over onto your knees. He roughly forced your chest down, leaving your ass in the air for him.

“Your ass is so fucking fat,” he said as his hand connected with your bare skin, causing you to shriek.

He kissed it afterward while his fingers teased your clit. He realigned himself with your entrance. This new position was even better than the last. You could no longer hold in your moans even if you wanted to. Hoseok repeatedly hit your g-spot, and you could feel another orgasm welling up within you.

“Hobi, I’m gonna cum,” you cry out.

“Say that again,” he demanded.

“I-i’m gonna cum!”

“No, not that. That’s hot but call me Hobi again,” he chuckled.

“Hobi!” you said with an exasperated tone.

“Yes princess? Fuck, I’m close,” Hoseok’s movements were becoming more haphazard by the second.

“Hobi, right there oh my god keep going please,” you begged, “Hobi...ah shit!” you came undone.

It wasn’t long after until Hoseok followed suit, pulling out to cum all over your ass. He rolled off the bed to get something to clean you up with. 

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok asked.

“Better. You?” you answered.

“Doing pretty well. I fucked the girl of my dreams,” he said gleefully.

“Shut up,” you playfully pushed him.

“I’m serious. I’ve adored you since college. I lived for your playful banter,” he began to explain.

“It wasn’t playful,” you interjected.

“Yeah, I know. But that’s what made it fun! All the other girls just wanted to be with me for my looks or whatever. None of them knew the real me.”

“And I did?”

“More so than most. You always pushed me to do my best. I really just wanted to be good enough for you. Kind of silly huh? I even dated that girl in an attempt to make you jealous. Which backfired since her dad was Professor whatshisface who took me on that trip,” Hoseok opened up.

“Hobi I...I’m so sorry. I was such a bitch to you back then. And now too I guess. My competitive side gets the better of me. I was always annoyed by how you were seemingly good at everything. It even irritated me that you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life,” you began to apologize, “Oh, and his name is Namjoon. Professor Namjoon.”

“Thanks for reminding me. I hate to admit it but he made me a little jealous. I wanted you to praise me the way you praised him. Anyway, things can change now that everything's out in the open,” Hoseok smiled, “You’re even calling me Hobi! I’ve been dreaming about this moment.”

“Was it everything you ever hoped for?” you joked.

“You said it when you asked me to fuck you, then you said it multiple times while I was balls deep inside of you. So yeah, I would say it was everything I could’ve hoped for, if not more,” he pulled you into his chest.

The two of you continued talking for what felt like hours while cuddling. You hadn’t been this relaxed in ages. You were nearly asleep on his chest when he stroked a strand of hair from your face. 

“Tomorrow will be interesting, huh?” he said softly.

“I guess I still have to pitch my idea to the CEO,” you sighed softly, “What a waste of time.”

“It’s not a waste of time if you’re gonna get the promotion,” Hoseok reprimanded.

“I already told you, I’m not. The VP will make sure that you get it. This is good for you. Don’t worry about me,” you kissed his cheek, “We should get some sleep now.”

“Alright. Goodnight, ___,” he kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight Hobi.”

“Fuck, I really love when you say that.”

It was time. Time to pitch your idea to the CEO for no damn reason. You were beyond nervous, and Hoseok could tell. He tried to ease your nerves by giving you a firm shoulder massage as you both waited to be called into a small conference room.

The VP emerged, ignoring your mean scowl, and called Hoseok in to present first. Of course he would go first, no need to waste time hearing your proposal.

It was an anxiety riddled wait. You recounted the previous day’s events, which was a mistake because that only infuriated you. The whole situation was an affront on your character, and you will not stand for it. You debated giving the VP another piece of your mind at the end of everything. 

“___, you’re up,” the VP called you after Hobi finished.

“You’re gonna kill it,” Hobi encouraged you, coupled with a pat on the back.

“This is pointless and you know that,” you sighed.

Hobi shook his head in disagreement. It was heartwarming to see how supportive he was being. Maybe it was due to the fact that the job was practically his already. It doesn’t matter now. 

“Good morning gentlemen,” you greet them.

“The floor is yours, Miss ___,” the CEO responded cordially.

“I’ll keep it short and simple. I propose that the best way to improve the company is to shorten work day hours and increase PTO days,” you said confidently.

“Is that it? Can you expound on that?” the VP cynically asked. 

“Yes, I’m so glad you asked,” you smiled coldly, “Studies show that employees are exponentially more productive when they are happier. Not only will the company become more efficient, but the overall company atmosphere will become more positive. Interpersonal relationships between employees and bosses will improve in an appropriate professional manner,” you glared at the VP.

“That’s a very interesting take,” the CEO said thoughtfully, “Do you have any suggestions regarding the actual work that the company does?”

“No sir. The company has been thriving, so I believe that the way things are running now are proficient. However, as a company, we should always be willing to listen to our employees’ concerns,” you stated.

“You’ve brought up interesting points to the table. As an employee, do you have any concerns you’d like to express?” the CEO asked.

“There is one pressing matter that comes to mind,” you stole a glance at the VP to see him shift uncomfortably in his seat, “I firmly expect that employee/supervisor relationships should be strictly professional.”

“Are you just giving us your opinion on office romances?” the VP sneered.

“I believe that trying to use intimacy as leverage is highly immoral, if not a fireable offense,” you held your ground.

“Of course,” the CEO agreed.

“Then said employee would simply need to file a complaint with HR,” the VP dismissed you.

“What better way to get my complaint heard than speaking directly to the CEO?” you smiled sweetly, “Sir, yesterday the man sitting beside you crudely suggested that I sleep with him in order to gain the promotion. He also alluded that all of my accomplishments are for naught, and that I am purely ‘eye candy’.”

“Is this true?” the CEO asked his VP in dismay.

“Of course not. She’s grasping at straws. Look how desperate she is to get the job,” the VP quickly defended himself.

“I am not lying. I am fully prepared to be fired on the spot. I cannot continue to work at a company that allows this kind of sloppy behavior to go unpunished. Thank you for your time,” you bowed and quickly took your leave.

You released a huge sigh as soon as you were outside of the room. Hobi rushed over to your side. Suddenly, you began to laugh hysterically. Hobi looked at you nervously, obviously concerned about your mental state.

“Isn’t it so funny? All my hard work had just been flushed down the toilet by a stupid man drunk on power. I love that!” you wheezed.

“___, ___ calm down. What happened?” Hobi inquired. 

You told him what just went down. A smile crept across his face as you got to the part where you put the VP on the spot. 

“I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet dude,” Hoseok shrugged, “All we can do is wait.”

“Yeah, I’ll be the first one to congratulate you on your new job. Then I’ll begin my search for a new one,” you gave him a thumbs up.

The VP stumbled out of the room and angrily stomped towards the both of you.

“You fucking bitch! Who do you think you are? Do you even know what you’ve done? I know people. I’m gonna make sure your life is hell!” he yelled at you.

“That’s enough! You have been dismissed. I do not want to see your face around here again. Clean out your office on Monday,” the CEO ordered, “Would the both of you please follow me back into the room?”

You both timidly followed him, curious as to what he had to say.

“I apologize on behalf of the company for this incident. This isn’t the first time a complaint has been filed against him. Unfortunately, he always told me that they were just futile grasps for leverage and I foolishly believed him. However, his loss is your gain,” he smiled, “How would you like to be my new Vice President?”

You were agog. Hoseok’s eyes widened as he stood beside you.

“Surely there are more qualified people,” you stammered in disbelief.

“There definitely are. But none of them are what this company needs. It takes a special person to have their rival pitch all the reasons why you are a better candidate than they are,” the CEO happily nodded.

“I- he what?” you cast a surprised look at Hobi.

“Oh yes. He spent all his time highlighting your best qualities as an employee. It was quite a shock,” the CEO smiled.

“I will humbly accept your offer. Thank you so much sir, I will work even harder!” you bowed gratefully.

“That brings me to Mr. Jung. The position on the executive council is yours, if you want it,” the CEO offered.

“If the offer is unopposed, then I have no choice but to accept. I will do my best!” Hobi joined in your bowing. 

“Wonderful! It’ll be refreshing to see some lively young faces at those atrocious meetings,” the CEO laughed, “Oh, and one more thing. The two of you will have to relocate to the main branch, I hope that’s okay. I look forward to working with both of you.”

You both nodded gleefully. After the CEO dismissed the pair of you, the trip back up to your hotel room was nothing but joyous. It was like you were in a dream that you never wanted to wake up from. You even pinched each other to make sure it was all real. 

“I can’t believe you were advocating for me,” you hugged him.

“You deserve it. Your impressive diligence should not go unrewarded,” he squeezed you tighter, “Plus, this ended up being pretty sweet! Congratulations to both of us!”

“We need to go out to celebrate!” you wiggled.

“Yes! Let me take you out,” Hobi tackled you onto the bed.

“Where shall we go?” you playfully ask.

“Maybe we should go explore our new city together?” he suggested.

“Our?”

“Yes, our. And when I say I’m gonna take you out, I mean as a date. Because I want to date you. And have been wanting to for years,” Hoseok charismatically emphasized.

“I’m looking forward to starting this new chapter of my life with you then, Mr. Jung Hoseok,” you press your forehead against his. 

“Imma be all up in your bidness girl,” he joked.

“Your business is my business now loser,” you teased back. 

Looks like all that hard work had paid off, and there’s no better reward than finally being with Jung Hoseok.  

Published May 13, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

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[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part V

[ previous ]  Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x Reader, Zeke Jaeger x Reader wc: ~ 8.8k Warnings: pining, testosterone, Zeke being a dick (who woulda thought), subtle manipulation (both on Zeke’s part that goes unchecked and accidentally on Mike’s part) A/N: Well, we’re gettin’ there. We’re truckin’ along. I’m sorry for the last chapter. And, I’m sorry for this one. But, I do still hope you enjoy it. I think we’re at the halfway mark here. 

Mike gets a text from you at nine PM three days before he’s supposed to go back to campus. It’s just a few words, a question that makes his heart drop to his stomach because you’ve never asked it before.

 Can we talk for a sec?

 He waits for a few minutes, tries to get rid of the panicked feeling rising in his chest, but he can’t get it to go away entirely, so he just bites the bullet and calls you. 

 “Heyyy,” you greet. Mike can already tell a difference in your tone. Something is definitely going on.

 “Hey, what’s up?”

 “I just, uh…” He hears you suck on your front teeth, a nervous habit he’s well versed in now, then you tell him, “I just wanted to give you a heads up before you get back here.”

 Mike swallows. “Heads up about what?” 

 Are you leaving? Did you fail your summer classes despite all his help? Did you get into some kind of accident?

 You let out a long breath that Mike wishes he could feel on his skin. He wishes he could see your expression, wishes he could hold your face in his hands and tell you that whatever it is, it’ll be okay. Seems like he’s always wishing for things.

 “Um, I—uh… I’m kind of seeing someone.”

 The floor falls out from beneath him, and Mike drops with it, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He grits his teeth, trying to breathe normally—in through the nose, out through the mouth. This is about the last thing he expected you to confess.

 It’s apparently taking too long for him to gather himself, because you say his name, “Miche?” and he has to squeeze his eyes shut.

 “I’m here. It’s, uh, fine,” he lies. “It’s fine.”

 “Is it?” You sound worried, as you should because while Mike isn’t mad, he’s extremely disappointed, probably the most he’s ever been. 

 Taking a page out of your book, he tries to play it cool, act like he doesn’t care. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

 “Well, you—...” Met your mom? Learned your secrets? Tried to tell you that he loved you? All valid responses, but you just dismiss it with a quiet, “Nevermind.”

 Mike hums, lets the line go silent for a while, then musters the courage to question, “Do I know him?”

 “Yeah, I think so.”

 “What do you mean ‘you think so’?”

 “I mean he’s mentioned you, so I figure you’ve had at least a few conversations.” You’re getting that sassy tone, the one that signals you want to drop the subject, but you can’t this time. You’ve already warned Mike that you’re off the god damn market. You might as well tell him who exactly he’s gonna see you holding hands and sucking face with. It’s the merciful thing to do. 

 “It’s not one of the Pike guys, is it?”

 “No, no,” you laugh and it makes Mike want to scream because he doesn’t find this amusing at all, and it only gets worse when you finally answer, “It’s Zeke Jaeger.”

 Mike nearly hangs up then and there, but he somehow fights the urge. He does hold his phone away from his ear, though, stares up at his ceiling for a few seconds and stretches his arm out, then brings the device back. “Cool. He’s a… Talented dude.”

 “Yeah, but I mean, I’m not exactly starstruck or anything. Not after hangin’ out with you all of last year.”

 Mike rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they might fall out of his skull. “You don’t have to make this about me, ba—...” He catches himself before finishing the pet name. He can’t do that anymore. He can’t call you what he wants to. He can’t flirt or smooth hair out of your face. He can’t pick you up and hold you against the walls of the house. He can’t show you how much he cares for you. 

 “I know. I just feel kinda bad,” you mumble. 

 “You shouldn’t. It’s cool.” His flat tone is anything but cool, and you can probably tell, but there’s not much Mike can do about that.

 You’re pouting when you question, “You’ll still be my friend?” Mike can see the expression without actually seeing it, the doe eyed look you’d be giving him if he were in front of you right now. He can also imagine looping his arms around you and smiling crookedly and kissing your forehead, and fuck, he feels broken. 

 “Yeah,” he sighs. “Shouldn’t even be a question.”

 “Good.”

 You lapse into another silence, just breathing and waiting for the other to break. It’s you who does. You clear your throat and state one more time, “I just wanted you to know.”

 “Thanks.”

 “See you in a few days.”

 “Yeah,” Mike is barely listening at this point, just looks at the poster on the wall and lets it fall out of focus. “See ya’.”

 You don’t hang up immediately, like you’re waiting for him to say something else, but Mike saves you the trouble and presses the ‘end’ button on his phone then tosses it on his pillow and falls back onto the mattress. 

 He just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand any of it. You’ve gone an entire year denying him, keeping yourself closed off and never once bringing up the possibility of actually being together. After all the time spent together, after all the date parties, all the sex, staying at each others’ houses. He feels like he knows you better than anyone else probably does. You let him in. You let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. You acted like you trusted him.

 So, why isn’t he your first choice? As soon as you realized you were ready to make a fucking commitment to someone, why wasn’t it him?

 Mike doubts he’ll ever get the closure. He’ll just have to cope with seeing you around campus with Zeke god damn Jaeger, have to pretend like everything is fine, like you haven’t ripped his heart out of his fucking chest. 

 Unbearable. It’s going to be absolutely unbearable. 

 *

 Moving somewhere new always blows. It takes so much energy that Mike doesn’t have, yet here he is, hauling bags and boxes up to his new apartment unit. Honestly, he would almost prefer to stay in the frat house instead of having to make all the trips up and down these god damn concrete stairs, but at least now he’ll finally be away from all the parties. That will definitely come in handy this year considering he’s not gonna want to go to a single fucking one of them. 

 Once all of his belongings are stacked in his fairly small living room, Mike glances around his new haven, already thinking about how empty it feels without all the guys milling about and dicking around. He doubts he’ll miss the constant noise, but it’s still something that will take some getting used to.

 What he will miss is seeing you all the time, waking up in his old room to see you still fast asleep on his pillows, sitting in the main room with the others, heckling them as they play various games. He’s been focusing on the small things for the last couple of days, the things he never took the time to really enjoy. It feels like he didn’t stare long enough or laugh hard enough when he had the chance, and now he doesn’t know when his next opportunity to do either of those with you will be.

 Mike scrubs a hand down his face, scratches the hair he’s let grow out a little too much, then slowly begins to unpack his things. He’s being melodramatic, he knows, but he can’t help it. He can either let himself feel sad, or he can let the unbridled fucking rage take over, and out of the two, he prefers the former. 

 Mike’s class schedule gets pinned to the wall in his bedroom. His laptop gets set up. Textbooks are tossed into a corner. He really doesn’t care to do much more than that, but he figures he should make the place at least a little presentable. Who knows? Maybe he’ll find someone to entertain.

 The thought makes him a little sick to his stomach, but it’s a sensation he’s slowly getting used to as more time passes.

 Mike knows he needs to pull himself together, needs to put on a brave face. Pretty soon all the frats will be dealing with the dirty rushers, all the kids who weren’t able or didn’t think to suck up to the brothers during the spring. Then there’s inductions and hazing… Fuck, fall semesters are so tedious even without living in the house. He’s never been a huge fan of it all, but he’s had this image to uphold since he became a pledge.

 Now, Mike isn’t so sure he can keep that image in place.

 He stays locked away for as long as he possibly can, but eventually there’s a knock on his front door—Erwin who shoots Mike a broad grin and wriggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “You ready, bro? Got a place all your own with no one to bother you—”

 “You’re bothering me.”

 “Can do whatever you want,” Erwin powers on, completely unfazed. “Bring back whoever you want, no pesky frat boys to get in your way ‘cause fuck those guys, right?” He goes to grab Mike’s shoulders while laughing at his own joke, but Mike swats him away. 

 It makes Erwin scoff, and then he’s pushing past Mike to get into his new home, looking around for just a second and breathing out a little, “Eesh,” before turning back and giving Mike a look of condescension. “Don’t tell me this bad mood is because of your little toy finding someone else.”

 “Okay, firstly, fuck off,” Mike squints at him. “And, secondly, how do you already know about that?”

 Erwin examines his manicured nails, buffs them on his shirt and tells Mike, “Saw her and Jaeger walking out of the bookstore earlier. They looked pretty cozy. Pretty giddy, too, all smiles and—”

 “Shut. The fuck up.”

 The other man snorts. “Calm down, dude. I’m sure you can get her back or whatever you’re trying to do. Zeke’s an assole. Won’t take her long to figure it out.”

 “We’ll see.”

 This time Mike lets Erwin clap a hand on his shoulder before he walks out but not without suggesting, “You really should brighten things up a little in here. Hang some fairy lights or something. Girls love fairy lights.”

 Mike rolls his eyes, not bothering to remind his friend that he only started unpacking half an hour ago, then physically shoves Erwin out of his apartment.

 So, you’re already walking around campus flaunting your new little fling, he thinks. Perfect. He’s really looking forward to seeing that everywhere. 

 Mike eventually has to go by the PKA house for a meeting. Some of the members are already discussing plans for rush week and parties. Should they have lists or just keep them open and direct everyone to the yard? Are they gonna stick to their regular forms of hazing or should they change things up this year? Did anyone stick out from spring? Mike doesn’t pay much attention, just scrolls through his phone skimming through the same three social media apps over and over. He reads through the text thread he shares with you, the one he’s never deleted, and thumbs all the way up to a few months ago just to see if anything had been different back then, if he had said or done something wrong. 

 But, he’s gone through it a dozen times already, and he never finds anything. Maybe you just grew while he was away, experienced some kind of self-actualization that prepared you for an actual relationship. 

 Or, maybe Zeke just has something that Mike doesn’t. 

 *

 Mike runs into you on the second day of classes. Thankfully, you’re alone, and as soon as you catch sight of him, you grin widely and launch yourself at him. It comes as a surprise, your full weight hitting him square in the chest when you jump, and he has to catch you like you’re an excited child.

 It’s too close. You’re too close. Body against his as you slide down to your actual height and rest your head on his chest.

 “I missed you, Zacharias.”

 He wants to lift you up again, lock your thighs around his waist and kiss you like he used to. Instead, Mike pats the top of your head and gently untangles you from himself. He makes sure to smile when you look up at him, and he’s glad you aren’t pouting or frowning, your expression soft when he tells you, “Yeah, I missed you too.”

 He asks how your summer classes went. You ask what his course load is like this semester. It’s just small talk, and Mike hates it. 

 “How’re your parents?” You question like you’re interested, but he can’t imagine you actually are.

 “They’re good,” he shrugs. “Dad got a promotion at work a few weeks ago. Mom is doing the same shit she always does.” Like, making his favorite meals to heal his poor little broken heart. Mike hadn’t even told her about the conversation he’d had with you, and yet, as soon as he came out of his room the following morning, she just knew. 

 “Glad to hear it,” you nod. “Hey, do you wanna grab lunch or something? My next class isn’t til two, so I’m tryin’ to kill some time.”

 “Actually, I told Erwin I’d meet him,” Mike lies through his teeth. He’ll be using excuses like that for as long as he can. “Sorry.”

 “No, it’s cool,” you wave him off. “I’ll just grab Hitch or—”

 “There you are.” Mike stiffens at the vaguely familiar voice ringing out from behind him, hand flexing by his side as the school’s golden boy walks right past him and to you. “I was looking all over for you.”

 “Well, here I am,” you laugh, but Mike notes how forced it sounds. It’s a laugh that stems from nerves, he thinks. But why? Is it because Mike is here? Are you afraid of how he’ll act? Or, is it that you’re still in the phase of this “relationship” with Zeke  that you’re still anxious around him?

 The other man doesn’t even acknowledge Mike for a full twenty seconds. He heavily considers just walking away without a word, but the blond does eventually turn around to look at him and shows a smile that Mike would describe as slimy but you would probably call charming.

 “Zacharias,” Zeke greets and holds out a hand. “It’s been a minute.”

 Mike doesn’t like the way he says his last name. He only likes the way his friends say it. How you say it. Even if it started off as a way to keep your distance, he grew fond of it. Not as fond as his given name, of course, but hearing those four syllables from your mouth, always laced with attitude, never fails to make him smile.

 “Yeah, it has,” Mike agrees, clasping hands with him.

 He immediately feels Zeke stick his index finger out over his wrist, an attempt of taking control of the shake. Mike has seen it too many times to count, the petty attempt to flip hands so that one man’s is on top of the other. It’s a terrible way to flaunt one’s masculinity or power, and it’s never worked on Mike. 

 His hand is quite a bit larger than most people’s, after all. It’s definitely larger than Zeke’s, so when he tries to turn it, Mike doesn’t have a problem keeping his wrist straight. 

 The blond has to look up at him, actually tilt his head back because Mike has a good five inches on him, and after a couple more seconds, Zeke gives up on the pathetic display of dominance. That doesn’t stop Mike from squeezing his palm just a little too hard, though, just enough to see the muscles in Zeke’s jaw twitch. 

 When he lets go he chances a glance at you, finding you rubbing your temples. You mumble something Mike can’t hear, probably about men being stupid because there’s no way that little show escaped your notice. 

 Zeke steps over to you once again and asks the same question you had asked Mike—”You wanna get lunch, babe?” 

 Hearing him calling you that causes Mike’s blood to bubble in his veins, blistering from the inside out. It’s time for him to leave.

 “Yeah, sure,” you nod. Eyes flicking back to Mike, you force another smile and tell him, “See you around.”

 The two of you walk off, and Mike watches for just a little too long as Zeke laces his fingers with yours. Once you’re both a safe distance away, the fucker looks back at Mike from over his shoulder and smirks at him.

 Mike has long legs. He could easily catch up to you and punch Zeke square in the jaw, make his head snap to the side so that he drops to the ground. 

 But, what would you think of that? There’s no way you’d be happy with him, and if there’s one thing that would  be worse than Mike having to see you parade around with someone who isn’t him, it would be you ignoring him completely.

 *

 The first couple of weeks are honestly a blur. Too much is happening for Mike to focus on. The only thing that seems real to him is the ache in his chest. It distracts him day in and day out, through the late rushers and all the sucking up, through the first couple of parties, bid day and the first rounds of hazing. It’s just always there. 

 He is notably quieter when in the house, and it seems like everyone knows why. While Erwin pokes fun at him for his moodiness, Nile takes a more adult approach and simply asks how he’s doing, if he needs anything, going as far as offering, “You need me to punch that dude in the throat? Plant drugs in his bag? I’m pretty sure Gelgar has coke on his person at all times.” 

 He’s a good guy. Mike is glad he got voted in as PKA President this year despite Erwin giving him a run for his money. Nile is just personable enough to bring members in and have a good time at events, and just controlling enough to make sure things in the house are taken care of. Plus, Erwin doesn’t seem too broken up about getting Vice instead.

 It’s a relief when lacrosse starts back up, finally gives him a way to get some of his frustration out. The other teams have never been luckier to be wearing helmets otherwise Mike would have broken several noses within the first game alone. 

 The season has some overlap with baseball, games scheduled on the same day, sometimes at the same time. Mike keeps himself from looking into the stands to try to find you, scared that you’ll be there or scared that you won’t be, he isn’t sure.

 And, of course, Zeke’s face is plastered everywhere after he pitches a perfect fucking game. Mike wants to be angry, wants to spit on the flyers and punch every computer that’s displaying the college’s home screen, but if he’s being honest with himself, he knows that if it were anyone else, Mike would be impressed. Pitching a perfect game is pretty fucking cool, and the school is lucky to have a player as talented as Zeke, but god, what Mike wouldn’t do to just curbstomp him.

 Your name still lights up on his phone fairly often to ask how games went or how his classes are going. You’ve asked for help with homework on one occasion and lunch on another, but after Mike lies about only being able to walk you through the material over the phone and shoots you down for lunch, you seem to get the picture. 

 He doesn’t want it to be awkward between you, but he doesn’t know how to act now. His entire relationship with you started off as a drunken fuck, and it’s been mostly physical since then. How is he supposed to be able to spend time with you without touching you? Even the semester you refused to hook up with him, there were still times when you were both actively fighting the temptation. Mike can remember seeing it in your eyes all the time, probably just as often as you’d see it in his. You’d sit with a leg pressed against his, fall asleep on his arm every once in a while, and he wants that back now, but there’s no way the two of you can do that anymore. He doesn’t possess the same self-control.

 Over the weekend, you end up cracking and trying again, asking for help with studying for a quiz, and Mike has to contemplate it for at least fifteen minutes before he gives in.

 Coffee shop on 7th? you text him, and Mike chuckles to himself. The only places you’ve ever studied together is at the library or in his room, and while he could only get as far as a hand between your legs in the school building, he would usually end up in bed with you whenever going over something behind closed doors. 

 It makes sense that you want to go to a busier place, more eyes to watch you. It’s irritating, but he understands.

 Mike grabs one of his own textbooks from the previous year, the one he actually bought so that he could highlight and take notes in the margins, then makes his way to the little cafe.

 He’s been to this particular shop many times before, with you as well as the girls who came before—the ones that never mattered. Mike easily spots you at a little table by the window, your own book and several papers spread out around you. When you see him, you grin then hurry to clear a space for him, organizing what Mike recognizes as reading guides. 

 “Hey, stranger," you greet.

 Mike nods, eyes landing on the green hoodie you’re wearing, the one that covers too much of you, that spills over the tops of your legging clad thighs and hides your little hands. It’s his, but it’s always looked better on you. The fact that you still wear it makes Mike’s heart swell a tiny bit as he takes his seat. The sun is hitting you just right and making your face glow, making your eyes twinkle, and he doesn’t know if he can do this.

 “So, what d’you need help with?” He prompts before he can make up his mind to turn right back around. 

 You slide one of the guides over to him and point out several circled questions. The blanks are filled in, but you ask him, “Why?” dramatically. “None of that makes sense to me.”

 Mike laughs through his nose and glances at the page your textbook is flipped to so he can open his own.

 “Why’d you keep your book from last year?”

 He glances up before turning it to show the highlighted lines, the starred passages, the little annotations for better understanding. 

 “One, because I worked hard on making it better, and two,” he feels his mouth curl up, the teasing coming naturally when he tells you, “I figured you’d probably benefit from it.”

 You squint at him, scrunching your nose up, and Mike takes a mental snapshot to tuck away. 

 “Rude,” you utter.

 He raises his eyebrows and leans back in his chair. “I think ‘thank you’ is the term you’re looking for.”

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just explain this to me if you’re so smart.”

 “You know I’m smart.”

 Mike doesn’t understand where the casual back-and-forth is coming from. Is it easy because he's done it so many times before? Words tumble from his mouth before they actually cross his mind, and he’s both grateful (it’s better than the awkward small talk he thought he’d have to make) and worried. If he’s speaking without actually thinking things through, what else might he do before his brain catches up? Will he smooth hair out of your eyes? Will he brush his hand over yours? Will he stare at your lips for too long? All of those are habits he hasn’t managed to break yet, but he will break if he accidentally offends you by crossing any of these lines.

 He sits with his hands tucked between his legs, only moving to flip a page or point something out with his pinky finger. He's reading upside down, and you're leaning over the tabe, staring at the book then staring at him. Mike tries to look through you instead of at you, but it's hard as you let out a little oh! when something clicks or pouting when it doesn't. 

 "I still don't get it."

 So, Mike finds different ways of explaining things because he knows this information very well now. It's still pretty fresh in his brain, and he may or may not have reviewed some of it when he saw how many of your classes matched up with his. 

 "Okay, I feel a lot better," you sigh once Mike has gone through every page. 

 Mike is more or less sitting on his hands at this point, gritting his teeth behind the grin plastered on his face because this is the part where he asks if you wanna go back to the house. This is the part where you wind down together, watching dumb TV shows or pawing at each other, rolling in his bed and laughing and moaning. That's what's supposed to happen. 

 "Alright, well, if that's it, I should get going," Mike tries, stretching his arms out and nearly smacking the person sitting behind him right in the head. 

 You snort, cover your mouth, and look away. It's what you always do. You can't look at him when you start laughing or you'll just laugh harder and harder, and while Mike adores it, the general public usually does not. 

 But, then Mike is snickering because he can feel the stranger trying to burn holes in the back of his skull, has to bite his fist to keep himself quiet, and when you chance a glance and see, you slam your head down on the table, whole body shaking with giggles. 

 It's always the little things that get you. On one of the walks with Scout over Spring Break, Mike had tripped over a stick on the trail. He managed to catch himself, but Jesus Christ, you didn't stop laughing for ten minutes. 

 "God fucking—" he's starting to lose it too as he stands and gathers your supplies from the table, tucking them all under one arm then using his other to pull you out of your seat. "We have to leave before they make us." 

 You hide your face in your hands, trusting Mike to guide you by the shoulders, and once you're both outside, you belly laugh until you wave your arms and gasp, "I can't—I can't breathe—I can't breathe!" Your voice is all high pitched and hysterical, and all Mike can do is bring you to his chest so that you can let your giggles die off in the privacy of his t-shirt. 

 He can feel your breath through the material as you calm down, eventually looking up and wiping tears from your eyes as you continue to grin. 

 Mike tilts his face down to stare at you, aware that all of his affections are shining right through his eyes, but he doesn't care because you don't seem to. 

 “You’re a fucking dork,” he hums, has a fully conscious thought of touching your face—no accident, no impulse, a complete, coherent, thought, so he does it. He just does it. Palm over your cheek, thumb gently tracing to wipe away another tear from your little fit. 

 You let out a long exhale, close your eyes and hum, then reach up to cover Mike's hand with yours. 

 Your fingers lock into the spaces between his, and you hold on for a few seconds before letting your hand fall, taking his with it. And, just like that, all the good feelings that had grown inside of him over the course of the study session disappear.

 "Miche," you sigh, still holding onto two of his fingers. 

 He smiles in a way that makes you frown, then mumbles, "Yeah, I know."

 After handing your supplies back, Mike kisses you on the top of the head before you can stop him, then turns and starts walking toward the street his apartment is on. 

 *

"Why are you always wearing that hoodie?" 

 You look up from your laptop just as Zeke steps out of his room freshly showered and shirtless. It's a sight that should probably make your mouth water, but instead it's gone dry at his question. 

 "Oh, uh, I don't really know," you bullshit. "It's just big and comfortable, I guess."

 Zeke uses the towel around his neck to dry his hair a little better, questions, "Well, whose is it?" while his face is slightly obscured. 

 If you pause, he'll probably be suspicious. If you answer, he will also be suspicious. And, you can't really blame him. People know you on campus as Mike Zacharias' friend or girlfriend or plaything or whatever. You assume Zeke having to walk around with that hanging over his head is pretty annoying.  

 "Oh, wait," he starts before you can answer. Squinting without his glasses, he grumbles, "That's one of the lacrosse hoodies, isn't it?" 

 You look down at the cracked logo and try not to smile at it. "Yeah. It's one of Mike's old ones."

 "Right." He pads over to you and takes your laptop from your legs despite your protests of being in the middle of an online assignment, setting it on the coffee table behind him. Then, using one arm to brace himself on the back of the couch, Zeke holds himself above you and takes your chin between two fingers so that he can tilt your face and kiss you. 

 It makes you melt. It always does. Your heart beats like a drum in your chest for about two seconds before it relaxes into a subtle thrumming, a white noise that drowns out everything else. 

 You straighten your back in an attempt to get closer, but Zeke pulls away ever so slightly, makes you chase after his lips and you do. You do because you want more, want him. 

 It's been weeks now and the farthest you've gotten with him, the farthest he's let you get with him, was the series of harsh kisses he'd ladened you with up against his front door a few days ago. He'd pushed your shirt up and shoved a knee between your legs, giving you something to grind against, but it never progressed to anything more. 

 You don't understand. It's not like he's never had sex. You've heard girls talk about him on campus, how he'd been seeing so-and-so for a couple months in freshman year, fucked some other chick at a party, etc., etc. 

 Then you'd met his actual ex the other day, one he dated officially for a semester last year before breaking things off. Her name is Rhi. She's very pretty. And, she had pulled Zeke into a full blown conversation without looking at you once. The way she batted her eyes and smiled at him, twisting her hair and shoving at him playfully—Oh yeah. She's definitely seen him naked. 

 You didn't say anything about it for a while, just stewed in silence until Zeke finally sighed and asked, "What would you like to know?" 

 He'd given you the vague outline—met her in class, studied together, decided to date, left her to focus on baseball. That excuse hit a little too close to home, but you'd let it roll off your shoulders. 

 The point is Zeke has fucked other girls, but he won't fuck you, and you need to know why because you're starting to get desperate. It's not a good look. It's one you never wanted to wear, but the way he stares at you and the way he talks to you, always pointing out your strengths, encouraging you, complimenting you is intoxicating.

 When Zeke's eyes are on you, it’s like you're the most important person in the room. He has some ability to make you feel that way, to make everyone feel that way you realized one night after a game. People flock to him. They want to listen to what he has to say. They want to agree with him where he can see. 

 It's hard to explain to anyone who hasn't met him, but the best way you can describe it (a way only a few people will understand) is that he has a twenty for charisma. He's talented and smart and engaging, can convince anyone of anything the same way he's convinced you that he wants you. 

 Hand slipping behind your arching back, Zeke presses you against him for just a moment, then drops onto the couch next to you only to tug you on top of him. 

 You're already breathing too heavily, clutching his face in both your hands as you grind your hips against his. He squeezes your ass, smirking against your mouth when you whimper, then moves his hands to push both the hoodie and your shirt off. 

 You lift your arms, letting Zeke strip you as your mind grows hazy. He mutters more to himself than to you, a low, "Get this shit off," then carelessly tosses your clothes over the armrest. 

 Fingers climb up your ribs, almost tickling, making you squirm in his lap. You can feel that he's getting hard, thank god. This just might be the night, please fucking let it be. 

 You've never been a big fan of terms like ‘blue-balls’ or ‘blue-bean’, never even thought it existed, and it really doesn't; it's just a form of manipulation, of guilting your partner into sex, and you know this because you've had an entire rant about it prepared since high school, but right now, in this particular moment, you're aching. Your insides ache. Your clit aches. You just want—

 Zeke pinches one of your nipples hard enough to clear your head for a second, causes you to cry out and pull back. He lets go, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you and flicks over the sore bud with a fingertip. 

 "Zeke," you breathe, body trembling. 

 "What is it, baby?" He coos. 

 "I—"

 He snakes a hand between the two of you, ridding you of any and all thoughts as he rubs over your covered pussy. You're almost positive that if he keeps doing it, you'll start to leak through your leggings, right into his hand. 

 Panting, an old track plays in the back of your head, a deep voice, breathy and promising, gonna fuck you dry tonight.

 You lean forward to kiss Zeke again, letting him suck and bite hard enough to make the frown on your face look natural, like he put it there. 

 Flames are licking up and down your legs, then your arms, but even though it's Zeke's lap you're sitting in and Zeke's tongue in your mouth and Zeke's fingers massaging your pussy, it's suddenly Mike you're thinking about, and well… That can't be good. 

 You tangle your hands in Zeke's hair, the different texture bringing you back to reality. His thick beard is scratching against your face. His bare torso is wiry with muscle and pressed to yours. He moves his hand and raises his hips to meet yours, a groan catching in his throat. It looks like he's finally losing his composure, cheeks flushed, eyes are foggy. When you break away, he licks away the string of spit holding you together, tongue running over his lip seductively.

 "Can we—" you start, but Zeke speaks at the same time. 

 "It's getting late."

 Blinking at him, you find yourself experiencing too many emotions to actually identify a single one. You feel your eyebrows knit together, but it’s more from your confusion than it is your frustration. 

 But, you don’t want to be frustrated. You don’t want to be or look upset about not getting sex. That would make you a terrible person, and you’re not about to make him feel bad for not being ready to take that step with you. You’ve been on the receiving end of that, and it doesn’t feel good.

 The amount of times you’ve had to masturbate in the last few weeks is a little fucking ridiculous, though. 

 Nodding mostly to yourself to get your thoughts back in line, you slide off of Zeke to stand up. Your hand is trembling when you reach for your clothes, heat still coursing through you, but you manage to gently grab them from the couch rather than snatch them. 

 Shirt and hoodie back in place, you gather your things, feeling Zeke’s gaze on you the entire time. You don’t say anything, just nibble on your bottom lip as you run over all the events that took place over the night, what you possibly did wrong, what turned him off or just failed to turn him on in the first place. 

 After slipping everything back into your bag, Zeke finally gets to his feet and takes it from you, walking with you outside to your car. 

 “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he tells you, the picture of calm and collected while your body remains buzzing.

 “Okay, yeah.” 

 He puts your stuff in the front passenger seat, shuts the door, and gives you a sweet little peck that you wish lasted longer.

 Zeke says good night, begins walking back to the building, but stops and calls to you right before you shrink into the car. 

 Even from this distance, you can tell he’s looking you dead in the eye, face suddenly very serious when he tells you, “You can go ahead and stop wearing that hoodie.”

* For the first time since the semester started, lacrosse and baseball games do not overlap one another, and you're able to spend the warm afternoon in the stands, cheering on the friends you made over the last year. 

 The home team is dominating, Mike and Erwin are too fucking quick for their opponents to get in the way of. The way the ball just flies back and forth between them, like a game of keep-away, shows just how on-the-same-page they are. The other guys are good too, doing a spectacular job of staying one leg ahead, defending their star players and assisting in the offensive effort. 

 The last goal is made by Mike who launches the ball from the center of the field right into the goal, and both the crowd and the teams lose their fucking minds. 

 You're up on your feet screaming and clapping, voice breaking as your shrill cry tears your throat. You know you're being drowned out by everyone around you, but as Mike gets lauded for being the god he is—putting up with backslaps and hugs and a headlock from Erwin—he still manages to find you in the second row, grinning in that crooked way you love so much. 

 You don't know exactly when that started happening, probably sometime after Spring break. Or, maybe it was there since the beginning, just laying dormant at the back of your head so that you could focus on denying him. 

 It doesn't really matter now since you're actually with someone. That someone isn't around right now, but he's in your thoughts as your chest fills with affection and pride for your friend. 

 Erwin is shouting about another open party, and your mind is made up to not attend because Zeke wouldn't appreciate it, but then Mike is suddenly lifting himself onto the raised, concrete stands and pointing at you, and before you know it, you're hopping down the next bleacher without a care for the fans who have to lean out of the way. 

 He's incredibly sweaty as you wrap your arms around his neck, but you don't mind. You were so convinced he would be mad at you or try to avoid you. 

 You're very aware that you had hurt him by getting with Zeke, and while he had been pretty guarded for the first few weeks, he's opened up some since that day in the coffee shop, when you'd nearly giggled yourself to death. You hadn't expected that to be what cracked his walls, especially considering how that visit had ended, but you're glad that it did. 

 "Haven't seen you cheering for me in a while," Mike laughs next to your ear. 

 He's dizzy with adrenaline, swaying back and forth as he squeezes you, and you tell him, "If you make us fall, I will beat you up, I swear." 

 "Okay," he says in a stupid voice of obvious disbelief, "Whatever you say." 

 You've been texting more, going over homework together, though you haven't needed his help in-person since he had switched books with you that day. It had been so smooth and subtle, you didn't realize until you opened it to study the following day, immediately noticing all the notes and highlights. 

 It had made you cry like a little bitch in the middle of your dorm, and you called Mike to thank him without bothering to hide your tears and hiccups. 

 "Come to the party tonight," he demands, but it's so soft, like he's still giving you a chance to say no. 

 The crowd is still yelling, so you have to keep speaking into each other's ears, and you ask, "Why? All the Pike parties are sticky and gross."

 "'Cause we haven't gotten drunk together in a while," Mike states in the form of a whine. 

 You snort, feeling his hair dripping onto your shoulder. You should probably be disgusted, but it's not the first time you've gotten sweaty with him, and it's definitely not the worst bodily fluid he's made a mess on you with. 

 "You know what happens when we get drunk together," you remind him with a smile he can't see. "Can't do that anymore."

 "I promise I'll behave."

 That's not the problem. You don't know if you can behave. You've been wound up for over a month now, and it is driving you insane. No matter how many times you get off alone in your room at night, you still ache as if you're being edged. 

 So, getting fucked up with someone you know for a fact can fuck you stupid… probably not the best idea. 

 "Miche," you protest, drawing his name out. 

 "Just think about it."

 He leaves you with that, hopping down and walking away with his arms in the air as everyone surrounding you cheers for him until he disappears. You just stand there amidst the noise, shirt now wet as you contemplate the pros and cons of going to another PKA party. 

 As always, Zeke asks what your plans are for the night, but for the first time since you met him, you lie. * King's Cup and Rage Cage and Beer Pong galore. Party-goers are pooling onto the lawn, and you're just waiting for campus police to show because of the chaos, but you're not necessarily scared of it. So you go to jail for a couple days. Worse things could happen. 

 Currently, you and Mike are sitting on the sidewalk nursing beers and giggling at the new pledges who keep running around the house in less and less clothes. 

 "Honestly, this isn't that bad," Mike tells you. "Erwin suggested we make them all watch snuff together."

 You give him an incredulous look as you raise the glass bottle to your mouth. "Erwin is a god damn psychopath, what the fuck."

 "We had to do it and didn't turn out too bad."

 "And, just like that, I'm scared of you."

 Mike laughs before sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling as a brawny blond speeds past in nothing but boxers—Reiner, you think his name is. 

 There are only a few new guys who stick out to you—that one, a long-faced kid named Jean, freckle boy Marco, and, naturally, Zeke's younger brother, Eren. He sorta skeeves you out, so you've been doing your best to stay out of his sight despite never formally meeting him before. 

 "Kid's kind of a prick, a little too cocky. Always talking about how he's related to Zeke, or should I say your lo-ver," Mike chuckles, sounding amused, but he still downs the rest of his beer afterward. 

 You let out a little growl, just drunk enough to be too honest, and grumble, "Not my lover. Also, I would never use that term. So cringey."

 "What do you mean?"

 "I mean it's weird and dramat—"

 "No," Mike cuts you off, "What do you mean about him not being that?"

 You fall back on the concrete, bumping the back of your head a little too hard and scrunching your face up. 

 "We haven't had sex. The dude just will not fuck me for some reason."

 "Are you serious?" 

 You glance at Mike and find his eyes wide in alarm. 

 "As a heart attack. I have never been so frustrated in my entire life." 

 You probably shouldn't be talking about this with him, one, because you assume it's like twisting a knife right in Mike's gut and two, because the more you drink, the less self-control you have. 

 He grunts then tosses his bottle into the yard for some poor pledge to slip on. 

 "His loss."

 "Whatever. I'm sure he'll come around eventually," you sigh then sit back up. "And, until then, I guess I'm practicing celibacy or some shit."

 Mike laughs hard at that, and it makes you smack him on the arm. "Yeah, good luck with that."

 "Shut up."

 "I'm just saying," he raises his hands. "You're, like, the neediest person I know."

 "Excuse the fuck outta me?" 

 "In the bedroom, dummy. Obviously not all the time."

 This is not at all where you wanted this conversation to go. The more you think about it, the more you feel that ache, the more you want to quell it. 

 "We should change the subject."

 Mike looks at you, flipping hair out of his eyes and smiling like the cocky frat boy he pretends to be. 

 "Why? Gettin' all worked up."

 "You are literally the worst."

 You stand and finish your drink, throwing it a few feet away from Mike's as you tell him, "I need to get a little more fucked up if I'm gonna deal with your ass all night."

 "Uh huh."

 He follows you back inside, but while you make your way into the kitchen, Mike stops to talk with Erwin about one thing or another. It means he has to entertain the masses, talk about the game, and you post up against a wall to watch him. 

 You should leave. Mike is looking a little too attractive in his stupid fucking pastel polo, and you're supposed to meet Zeke for lunch tomorrow anyway. Zeke, your boyfriend. 

 Or, well, he hasn't said it explicitly, but you hold hands in public and ignore other people, just make it obvious that both of you aren't interested in anyone else. 

 Except when Mike sidles up to you with foggy eyes and a smirk he hasn't worn around you in a long time, you groan at the thought that you are interested in someone else. Even if it's just one night, god, you need it so bad. And, you know Mike can give it to you. Exactly the way you want it. 

 It's Zeke's fault, really. You know he knows how desperate you're getting. If he'd just explain why he doesn't want to have sex, you could deal with it much better than you are now, but he continues to leave you in the dark. It makes you think you're doing something wrong. 

 Then, there's the problem of feeling like the shittiest person alive every time you get frustrated. You've spent nights trying to rationalize it, but it's hard to think straight when you're so, undeniably horny. 

 "Don't look at me like that," you tell Mike with a scoff. 

 "Why not?" 

 "'Cause you said you'd behave tonight."

 He cocks his head to the side and makes a face. "Did I? That doesn't sound like something I'd say to you."

 "Oh my god, you're impossible. And, drunk."

 "I'm not really that drunk," he waves you off. "It takes more than a few beers to get me fucked up, remember? Downfall of being this large."

 Jesus, he really is rubbing it in your face now. Wide with muscle and so fucking tall. Not to mention his—

 "I really cannot do this, Miche," you try again, gritting your teeth when his pupils dilate. "Zeke would be so pissed."

 "So? Come on, just one more time. I didn't know the last time would be the last time."

 You hadn't either. You don't know what you would have done differently had you known—maybe just taken the time to appreciate his incredible body more—but it doesn't matter now. 

 You try to sound firm and irritated when you snap, "You know you're being kinda manipulative, right?" 

 Mike tilts his head back as if you just shoved it, blinks a couple times, then swears out loud. "Oh, fuck." He takes a step away, eyes clear for the first time in several minutes. "I'm sorry. I didn't even—"

 "It's fine," you wave. "I just wanted you to know. I'm drunk and you're hot, and I don't wanna fuck things up with Zeke."

 "Yeah, I get it. Fuck. If you, like, wanna leave, I won't stop you. It was a joke, and then it wasn’t a joke and—That was a shit thing to do."

 "Little bit, but you get a pass this time," you laugh through your nose. "Just don't go pulling that bullshit on some unsuspecting freshman or anything." 

 He runs a hand through his hair, red with embarrassment, and you think to yourself, Mike is a good guy. One of the best. You don't know of many who would take that kind of criticism to heart—how many would feel genuinely guilty. It is college, and every girl knows the trend of fratty sports players getting off scot-free after being charged with sexual assault. Given his status at the school, Mike could definitely do something like that and get away with it.

 But, he would never. 

 You push him gently to show you aren't mad, tell him, "I still wanna hang out with you. We don't get to as much as we used to."

 Mike's small smile looks relieved as he takes a deep breath. "This isn't exactly the best place to just chill, but—"

 "I haven't seen your new apartment yet." 

 You regret it as soon as it comes out of your mouth, your little tune changing ridiculously quickly, but you can't deny that you're curious. He's still your best friend, and you want to know what he's done with his new place. Is it bland like his old room in the house, or did he let his real personality show through? 

 "You sure?" He questions. 

 "Yeah. We can just, like, play video games or something."

 "Are you sure?" 

 He must feel terrible. You can relate.

 "If you don't want me over, just say so," you snort. 

 "No, no, of course I do. I just don't want you to feel weird about being alone or anything."

 "Nah, like you said, you're not really drunk. I'll sober up with water. We'll be fine."

 You don't know if you're trying to convince him or yourself. Without the presence of alcohol, you should be able to keep it together, and the distraction of Zelda or Mario will surely help. 

 "Okay, yeah," Mike nods. "Let's go then."

You don't even bother finishing your drink, just set it on a countertop and follow him out to his Wrangler. It's been a while since you've ridden in it. It's been a while since you've ridden him, your brain helpfully supplies, and as you pull up to the unfamiliar apartment complex, you once again begin to think that this was a bad idea.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever - George Weasley

Title: Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever Pairing: George x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dirty talk, fingering, oral (male receiving), throat fucking, orgasm denial, light spanking, degredation. Summary: turns out falling in love with your enemy is more complicated that George and Y/N thought. A/N:  here it is, the sequel to good girl!! This actually ended up turning out differently than I thought I would and im not sure how I feel about that but I’m gonna upload it anyway otherwise it will quite literally never end up on here haha. But anyway, feedback is always appreciated/welcome!! Read part 1 here!

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George lets out a sigh, causing Y/N to glare up at him. He had promised to be good when Y/N agreed to let him tag along with her to the library, but they’ve only been there for 20 minutes and this is already the 5th time he’s let out a deep sigh. George grins at her, and even though she wants to be mad, Y/N finds him too adorable to even act like she’s mad.

Y/N rests her chin on her hand, just letting herself watch George for a moment. It’s hard for her to believe that just a few months ago she hated his guts, because now just the sight of George makes her feel dizzy with love. “What do you want, George?”

“Your attention,” George responds as if the answer is obvious. “When you said I could come with you I figured you’d end up sucking my cock or something. Not actually do homework.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the shiver that runs down her spine. “How can one person be that horny? We literally just had sex this morning.”

George bites his lip, memories of their early morning meeting taking over his mind. Y/N is still apprehensive about spending the night in his dorm, so Saturday mornings have become their opportunity to be together before George has Quidditch practice. There isn’t a deserted corridor or secret passageway they haven’t done it in, and they spent quite a few hours together this morning in the same secret passageway they hooked up in for the first time.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately, darling? You’re absolutely gorgeous and not to mention sexy,” George compliments, reaching out to cup Y/N’s cheek. “I just can’t control myself around you. Every time I’m around you I have the overwhelming urge to just touch you and pull you close.”

Y/N can feel her cheeks flushing, and she tilts her chin forward to silently ask George for a kiss. He kisses her briefly, but it doesn’t fail to make Y/N feel lightheaded. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Georgie. And while I find you extremely, extremely sexy, I do actually have to do my homework. Because of your inability to keep your hands to yourself I’m falling behind in Potions and Herbology.”

“Oh come on Snivellous loves you, he’d probably do your assignment for you if you asked. And Sprout is a total pushover. All you have to do is give her some sob story and you’ll get an extension easily.” George’s lower lip juts out, giving Y/N his best pout. “Please? Just pay attention to me a little bit.”

“Or, you can sit here with me quietly while I do my homework, and when I’m all done you can take me to the room of requirement and have your way with me,” Y/N suggests, picking her quill back up.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.” George sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N work. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she works on a Potions essay and George finds it incredibly cute. He finds it hard to believe that he once wanted nothing to do with Y/N. He’s absolutely captivated by everything she does, and he could spend hours just sitting there watching her do nothing.

“First Quidditch game of the year next week,” George comments idly. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, but he’s been sitting there quietly for the past 45 minutes and he can’t resist his urge to say something. It’s a Saturday evening and they’re the only two in the library, so he doesn’t even have anyone else around to watch and distract himself.

Y/N hums, not looking up from her essay. Honestly she’s surprised George lasted 45 minutes without saying anything, so she’s willing to humor him a bit while she works. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Angelina’s first game as captain. She’s a nervous wreck. But she’s been doing really good. It’s like Wood is still there.” George pauses, watching as Y/N scribbles a few things down. “You gonna be there?”

“Of course.” She looks up to wink at George. “Slytherin’s playing. I never miss a Slytherin game.”

George rolls his eyes playfully. “But you’re not just going to be there for Slytherin, right? You’re gonna be there to watch a super-hot Ginger whiz around the field hitting bludgers at everyone.”

Y/N shrugs. “I dunno. If you ask me Fred really isn’t that good of a Quidditch player.” When George pouts at her Y/N laughs and leans forward to kiss him. “I’m only joking, love. ‘Course I’ll be there cheering you on. Maybe not as loud as I’ll be cheering for Slytherin but cheering nonetheless.”

“Guess that’ll have to do,” George drawls, fake disappointment in his tone. George bites his lip, watching Y/N flip through her Potions book before she scribbles something down on her essay. “Can I ask you something?” When Y/N nods he continues. “Will you wear one of my extra Quidditch jumpers to the game?”

Y/N looks up at George then, putting her quill down. “And betray my house? George Weasley how dare you ask that of me!” she responds, feigning shock. “How about I wear your Gryffindor hat or scarf? That way you can spot me in the crowd of Slytherins and I’ll be warm.”

George frowns. “But I want you to wear my jumper. You can wear your own hat and scarf and my jumper will keep you warm.”

“It’s just that. I always wear one of Adrian’s quidditch jumpers. And Daphne wears one of Marcus’. It’s like, our thing. Has been since second year when they made the team,” Y/N explains. She reaches out to grab George’s hand, frowning when he pulls it away. “Georgie. Don’t be like this.”

George huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He knows that Adrian and Y/N are best friends, and even though she’d reassured him that her and Adrian never had romantic feelings for one and other, George can’t help but feel jealous when it comes to him. Obviously Y/N is his girlfriend and he knows that she loves him, but the mere mention of Adrian never fails to drive him up the wall.

“Just thought you’d want to wear you boyfriend’s Quidditch jumper,” he mumbles, settling back into his chair.

“It’s just a jumper, George. I don’t see what the big deal is.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and gets up, walking over to George. She straddles his waist and places her hands on his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to George’s mouth. She keeps pecking his lips until George melts and kisses her back eagerly, his hands settling on her hips. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll wear it.”

“Promise?” George asks, unable to keep from smiling.

“Promise. But I’m wearing my Slytherin hat and scarf. Can’t let people think I’ve gone completely soft for you.” Y/N looks back at her homework, before looking at George again. “Ah screw it. I’ll just finish that tomorrow. Take me to the room of requirement?”

George’s eyes light up and he grips Y/N’s thighs as he stands up. “No need to ask me twice.”

-

“You can’t even have one meal apart from him without making love eyes at each other across the hall. It’s disgusting,” Daphne teases, pretending to gag.

Y/N flips her off, not bothering to break eye contact with George. Ever since they started dating Y/N and George have eaten every meal together, taking turns at which house table they sit at. But since it’s the night before the first Quidditch match George had opted to sit at the Gryffindor table without Y/N, so that Angelina could go over a few last-minute things with the team. He’s supposed to be listening to whatever Angelina is saying, but with how focused he is on her, Y/N knows whatever she’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Adrian and Marcus join them then, and Y/N finally breaks eye contact with George, since Adrian sits right in their line of sight.

“You guys ready for tomorrow?” Daphne asks as they start to pile food on their plates. Snape had given the whole Slytherin Quidditch team permission to skip their afternoon lessons so they could get one last practice in on the field before tomorrow’s game. And both boys look exhausted, but also excited.

Marcus nods happily, “Oh yeah, Gryffindor is going down, no doubt about it.” He turns to grin at Y/N. “No offense to you or your boy toy, of course.”

Y/N flips Marcus off. “He’s not my boy toy, he’s my boyfriend, there’s a difference, moron. And there’s no need to be jealous, Marcus. I know it’s hard to watch me and George be together and I’m sure someday Daph will want to kiss you when she’s sober.”

Adrian laughs, prompting Marcus to hit him in the back of the head. “Don’t get feisty with me because Y/N is right. Oh, that reminds me.” Adrian reaches into his bag and pulls out one of his Quidditch jumpers. “Here, for tomorrow. I probably won’t see you before the game.”

“Oh, um. I don’t need it.” All three of her friends give Y/N a look and she puts down her fork. “I’m gonna wear George’s jumper tomorrow.”

Daphne frowns. “But you always wear Adrian’s. And I wear Marcus’. It’s a tradition, Y/N.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “It’s just a sweater, Daph. You’re acting like I’m stabbing him in the back or something.”

Adrian huffs and puts the sweater back in his bag. “If it’s just a damn sweater then why are you wearing Weasley’s? Didn’t know you stopped making decisions for yourself when he started shagging you.”

Y/N whips her roll at Adrian’s head. “You’re lucky there’s a table in between us Adrian or I’d break your fucking arm. Why are you being such a dick? George is my boyfriend and he asked me to wear his jumper. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but it does to him, and I love him so I’m going to wear it.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Adrian apologizes. “It just annoys me that things are changing. It used to be just us four. Now it’s always us four and George.”

Y/N sighs. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. They’ve operated as a foursome ever since the first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all just scared 11-year olds. Throwing George into the mix has changed their dynamic and she’s sure it’s been hard on all of them to adjust. “I’m sorry. It’s not like I planned on getting a boyfriend, it just kinda happened. I’ll wear your jumper to every other Slytherin game, okay?”

“Guess it’ll do,” Adrian settles, taking a bite out of the roll Y/N threw.

-

“Woo! Let’s go George! That’s my boy!” Y/N shouts, causing the Slytherins around her to all glare. Harry has just caught the snitch meaning of course, Gryffindor has won. Y/N turns to Daphne who’s pouting next to her and shapes her fingers in the form of an L. “Sorry, Slyther-losers. Good luck winning the Quidditch cup now!”

Daphne rolls her eyes and scoffs. “You’re a Slytherin too, you realize that, right?”

“Not today!” Y/N pulls her Slytherin knit cap off her head and shoves it into her jacket pocket as she unzips it to show off the red and gold jumper she’s wearing. “I’m a Gryffindor today, baby! Now come on let’s go, you can go make sure Marcus doesn’t drown himself in the showers and I can give George the congratulatory blow job I promised.”

“Ew! Way too much information, Y/N,” Daphne grimaces.

Y/N laughs as they start to head down to the pitch, unable to keep the smile off of her face. George looks hot just sitting there doing nothing, so seeing him whiz around the field hitting bludgers has left Y/N feeling dizzy with a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. He was gripping his bat so hard his knuckles were turning white, and the veins on his hand were visible from her seat in the stands. He looked so powerful up there on his broom, and it’s a sight Y/N never wants to forget.

When Y/N and Daphne finally reach the ground she’s about to breakaway to sneak into the Gryffindor changing room, when Daphne grabs her arm. “What?”

“Look!” Daphne insists, directing Y/N’s attention towards the outskirts of the pitch.

Y/N swallows the lump that has appeared in the back of her throat. Angelina, Katie and Alicia are holding onto Fred, who’s desperately fighting against them, a dark look on his face. George has an identical look on his face, and he’s trying to throw Harry off of him. Draco is standing in front of them, and while Y/N can’t hear what he’s saying, she knows it’s nothing nice. “That can’t be good.” Her and Daphne rush over, just as Marcus and Adrian start to approach.

“Get back up to the castle,” Marcus directs not even bothering to look at them.

Daphne hesitates, but Y/N grabs Adrian’s arm. “What are you guys doing?”

“We’re gonna back up Malfoy, obviously. You heard Marcus, get out of here.” Adrian tries to shake Y/N off, but she tightens her grip on him. “I’m serious, Y/N. Go back to the castle. Whatever is about to happen is not going to be pretty.”

Y/N looks over at George. Harry now looks just as angry and is struggling to hold onto George’s Quidditch robes. They’re close enough now that Y/N can hear the tone of Draco’s voice, and it’s dripping with cockiness. George’s fists are clenched at his sides, like he’s preparing to knock Draco’s lights out. She’s never seen George like this, and while it turns her on to no end, it also scares the shit out of her. She lets go of Adrian’s arm and starts heading towards George to try and stop whatever this is that’s about to go down.

It’s Adrian’s turn to stop Y/N, and he wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re about to put yourself in the middle of a blood bath.”

“Let me go, Adrian! As much as I would love to watch George beat the shit out of Draco this is not the time or the place.” She tries to break free from Adrian’s grip just as George finally looks away from Draco. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, but Y/N doesn’t miss the pure rage in them. George’s eyes drop to where Adrian is gripping her and before anyone can do anything George is lunging at Draco, punching him straight in the jaw.

“What did I tell you?” Adrian growls as he starts to pull Y/N back towards the castle.

Y/N lets Adrian drag her away as watches in horror at the scene unfolding in front of her. Harry has joined in the fight as well, and he and George are on the ground on top of Draco. Fists are flying everywhere and every time one connects with a body Y/N’s stomach lurches. After what seems like an eternity Madam Hooch and several professors are descending on the scene and their view is completely cut off.

-

Y/N takes the stairs up to Gryffindor tower two at a time, desperately in need of seeing George. It’s been a few hours since the debacle that went down on the Quidditch pitch and Draco has just finished bragging about the event after getting back from the Hospital Wing. What Y/N had wanted to do was grab Draco and hang him in the dungeons from his ankle, but instead she stormed out of the common room in search of George. His punishment is severe, and all she wants to do his hug him close.

“Oh thank god,” Y/N greets Ginny as she reaches the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She really hadn’t thought about how she was going to get in until she was already halfway up the staircase. Y/N had planned on just standing around until a Gryffindor showed up, so she’s truly thankful that Ginny is already there.

Ginny smiles at Y/N and pushes the Fat Lady Portrait open. “When George got back I figured it would only be a matter of time before you came to find him. He’s up in his dorm”

When Y/N steps into the common room it’s dead quiet. Gryffindor’s parties are notorious around school, and Y/N knows that if the match had ended differently there would be a rager going on right now. Fred is starting daggers at Y/N, and she can feel her face heating up as she heads up towards George’s dorm. Fred is still not the biggest fan of her relationship with George, but he’s usually less obvious about his feelings towards Y/N.

Y/N takes a deep breath as she reaches the seventh-year dorm and she knocks quietly. “George? Georgie? It’s me. Can I come in? ”When George doesn’t say anything, she frowns and pushes the door open anyway. “Georgie,” she coos as she enters, shutting the door behind her tightly. George is sitting on the edge of his bed shirtless, facing away from her. His shoulders are tense, and it makes Y/N’s chest ache.  

“How did you get in here?” he asks firmly, not bothering to look at her.

Y/N bites her lip and starts to tentatively walk towards him. “Ginny let me in, she was waiting for me, actually.” She stops when she’s a few steps away from him. “Are you okay?” she asks softly.

George huffs. “What do you think?” His tone is sharp, and Y/N can feel tears welling up in her eyes. She figured he would be upset, but she has no idea why he’s upset with her.

“I can’t believe that toad banned you guys from Quidditch. Actually I can believe it, she’s fucking awful.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N starts to play with her fingers. “Will you talk to me George, please?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Y/N. Just go hug Adrian or whatever it is you do when I’m not around.”

Y/N frowns and goes to kneel behind George on the bed. She reaches out slowly and places her hand on his shoulder. “Georgie what are you talking about? You’re the only one I wanna be with. Every second of every day. You know that.”

“Do I?” George asks as he stands up and turns to face her. “Because you two looked pretty cozy today down on the pitch.”

Y/N lets her eyes drag over George’s face. His eyes are dark and narrow, reminiscent of the way he was looking at Draco earlier. His lip is busted open and he’s got a pretty daunting black eye, but he still looks like George. “We weren’t hugging down there, George. Is that what you thought that was?”

“That’s what it looked like, Y/N. His arms around your waist like that. Only I’m allowed to touch you like that,” George growls, his fists clenching. “If you hadn’t been standing in front of him I would have broken his jaw, not Malfoy’s.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot, George,” Y/N spits, suddenly feeling angry. Although she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t turned on a little as well. Seeing George so angry and possessive has ignited a pit of arousal in her stomach. “He wasn’t hugging me. He was keeping me from throwing myself at you to keep you from hitting Draco. You know if it wasn’t for Adrian you could have hurt me, George.”

“I’ll be sure to go thank him then,” George sneers. “God, Y/N how can you be so daft. He’s clearly in love with you. I’m sure he was just looking for some excuse to touch you.”

“You can’t be serious George. We’ve talked about this. Adrian and I have never and will never have feelings for each other.” Y/N gets off the bed and comes around so she’s standing in front of George. “And you know what even if Adrian does have feelings for me I don’t return them. I’m in love with you, you big fat fucking moron. So quit it with this jealousy crap, George.”

George suddenly grabs Y/N’s hips and pulls her into his chest harshly before leaning down and kissing her hard. “I’m not jealous,” he insists as he pushes her back onto his bed. “But you’re mine, Y/N. And I’m gonna make sure every person in this school knows that. Especially that prick Adrian.”

“God, George. You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” Y/N sits up and wraps her hand around George’s necking, pulling him in to a desperate kiss. She lays back against the bed as George forces his tongue into her mouth, pulling him on top of her.

George starts to bite and suck on Y/N’s neck, feeling the need to mark her up as much as possible. He wants there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind who Y/N belongs to when he’s done with her. He nibbles along the underside of her jaw, leaving small purple bruises in his wake. “You look so fucking hot in my jumper, Y/N. Such a shame I’m gonna have to take it off.”

George’s hands have started to run up under the jumper, his cold hands shocking her warm skin. “Then don’t,” she gasps as George bites the crook of her neck harshly. “Leave it on while you fuck me, please. It smells like you, Georgie.” Y/N moans and tangles her hands in his hair as George starts to cup her bare breasts, his calloused thumbs rubbing harshly at her nipples.

“That desperate for me already, darling? So needy for me that you wanna be able to smell me while I ruin your pretty pussy with my cock?” George pinches Y/N’s nipples hard, smirking as her back arches up off of the bed.

“Please, George,” Y/N moans, tugging on his hair. “Just wanna be your good girl.”

Y/N’s words send a shiver down George’s spine and he kisses her briefly. “You sure you wanna be my good girl? ‘Cause the way you’ve been talking makes it seem like you wanna be a bad girl.”

“Yes, George. Always wanna be your good girl, wanna be so good for you.”

George pulls away from Y/N completely and sits up, starting to fumble with the button of his trousers. “If you wanna be my good girl so bad, then you’re gonna use that pretty little mouth to show me just how good you can be.”

Y/N sits up and bats George’s hands away, undoing his trousers and shoving them down to his thighs along with his boxers. She practically drools as his hard cock pops out, and Y/N immediately wraps one of her hands around it and starts to stroke him lightly, while her other hand pulls George down into a searing kiss.

George grabs Y/N’s face in his hands as he lays back onto the bed to keep their lips connected as she settles in between his thighs. He groans as Y/N’s thumb starts to swipe over the tip of his cock and he pulls away from her mouth, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as he does. He watches it snap back into place, a little redder and plumper before and he starts to shove her head downwards. “Go on then, Y/N. Wrap those pretty lips around me so I can fuck your throat.”

Y/N immediately settles on her knees between George’s thighs, gripping the base of his cock tightly as she takes him into her mouth. She loves it when George is rough with her and tells her what to do. Seeing him jealous and angry turns her on to no end, and she can already feel her wetness coating her thighs. Y/N takes him down as far as she can, moaning when he gathers her hair in a ponytail and gives it a sharp tug. His hips jut up, shoving his cock farther down into her throat, and Y/N braces one of her hands on George’s hip while the other fists his bed sheets.

“Oh fucking hell,” George moans as Y/N looks up at him from under her eyelashes. “Look so fucking pretty like that, darling, with your mouth wrapped around my cock. You love sucking my cock, don’t you Y/N?” She hums around him, and George’s hips surge upwards, burying the rest of his cock between her lips. Y/N gags as he hits the back of her throat and George uses his grip on her hair to keep her there for a moment before he pulls her off slightly.

Y/N lets her tongue run up against the underside of George’s cock as he starts to thrust into her mouth and as his hand guides her head. George shoves the tip of his cock into the back of her throat with each thrust, and Y/N can feel tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes with each gag. She makes sure to pay attention to the tip of his cock every time he pulls her back, letting her tongue flick at it and collect the precum that’s started to bubble up at the top.

George picks up the speed of his hips, groaning as drool starts to dribble down Y/N’s chin. “Always suck me so well, Y/N. Such a good girl for me.” George let’s his cock hit the back of Y/N’s throat one more time, before he pulls her off completely. He wipes some of the drool off of her chin with his thumb and cleans it off on his pant leg. “Thank you, baby for getting my cock nice and wet, perfect for me to fuck you with. Go on then, get on your hands and knees.”

Y/N gets into position as George gets off of the bed to take his bottoms fully off. She feels George push the bottom of his jumper up, so it bunches around her hips and she moans as his large hands grab her ass. The bed shifts as he settles in behind her, his hands tugging at the fabric of her leggings.

“George!” she gasps as his hands tear a whole in her bottoms, suddenly exposing her bare core to the cold air of the room.

“No panties?” George asks as he shoves two fingers into her wet heat. Y/N moans as her walls clench around his digits and George starts to slowly fuck her with them. “Such a dirty fucking whore you are, Y/N. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to use you like a little fuck toy, like you’re just a warm wet hole for me to bury my cock in. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” Y/N begs as George’s fingers curl and finally brush up against her g-spot. George has never been this lewd with her, and she can still hear the anger in his voice. “Please, Georgie,” she whines, pushing back against his hand.

George smacks Y/N’s ass hard with his free hand, revealing in the moan that leaves her lips. “Answer me, Y/N. If you wanna cum tonight you’ll be a good girl and use your words. You’re just a warm wet hole for me to fuck and ruin, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, George, yes,” Y/N pants as his thumb starts to rub her clit.

George bites his lip as Y/N’s thighs and arms start to shake, and he smacks her ass again. “And you love being my dirty little fuck toy, don’t you?”

Y/N moans as George curls his fingers again, nodding wildly. “Love it so much Georgie, please. Wanna be your good girl, wanna make you feel good.”

In one fluid motion, George removes his fingers from Y/N’s core, grabs her hips and slams his cock into her, his hips moving until he’s buried completely inside of her. “Always so fucking tight for me darling,” George groans as he starts to move his hips. He sets a relentless pace, fucking into Y/N hard and fast. “I want to hear every little noise that comes out of you as I fuck you, understand? Want this whole fucking school to know just how good I make you feel.”

“So fucking big George, holy fuck,” Y/N moans. “Always fuck me so good, Georgie. No one can ever make me feel as good as you do, love your cock so much.” Unable to hold herself up from the pleasure coursing through her veins, Y/N falls forward onto her forearms, arching her back for George. The new positions allows him to slip even deeper inside of her, and she clenches her walls around George as she whines. “Right there, oh fuck. Harder George please. I need you,” she begs.

George tightens his grip on Y/N’s hips and slams into her harder. Normally George prefers to take things slow, but he still has the image of Adrian’s arms around Y/N’s waist and he wants to fuck her so hard that he forgets it completely. “Such a dirty fucking whore, Y/N. Begging for me to ruin you.”

“George,” Y/N groans as his thumb starts rubbing harsh circles on her clit. The tip of his cock rubs her g-spot with every thrust and her hips start to push back against him as her orgasm starts to build. Her body feels like it’s on fire and she can’t help the noises that come out of her mouth with each of George’s thrusts. “Please, George. Been such a good girl. Can I? Can I come George, please?”

George grunts as Y/N clenches around him even tighter, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay. “I don’t know if you deserve it, darling. Fuck toys don’t get to cum, do they? And that’s all you are, isn’t it? Just a little fuck to for me to use for my pleasure?”

“Please, please, please,” Y/N babbles as tears start to stream down her cheeks. She’s teetering on the edge of her climax and all she needs is for George to allow her to feel it. Pleasure is moving like an electric shock through her body and she desperately wants to let go. “Georgie, please,” she begs, the desperation clear in her voice. “I’m all yours, only yours please. Only want you, George. Please, please, let me cum.”

“Fuck that’s right, Y/N. You’re mine,” George growls. “Forever. Understand that? No one’s ever going to touch you or kiss you or fuck you ever again. Just me, only me. Go on then, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

Y/N cries out George’s name as she cums, her whole body shaking as pleasure courses through her. She collapses against the bed as her chest heaves with heavy pants, her body feeling like it’s floating. George’s hips have started to stutter as his own orgasm approaches, and Y/N clenches around him to help bring him to his climax. “Fill me up George, please. Claim me, make me yours forever.”

“Fucking hell, baby.” George collapses against Y/N’s back as he cums, his orgasm rocketing through his body. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum this hard before, and his hips slowly roll as he twitches inside of Y/N. Once he’s finished releasing inside of her George slowly pulls out and collapses on the bed next to Y/N. Silent tears are still rolling down her cheeks and George immediately pulls her into his chest. “I went too far didn’t I? Fuck I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Y/N sniffles as George starts to stroke her hair and press soft kisses all over her face. “They’re good tears Georgie I promise. It was incredible, honestly, love.”

George wipes away a few of the tears before he pulls Y/N in for a passionate kiss. Their lips move together slowly, and George starts to gently rub her back. “I would never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you. I love you, Y/N, so much.”

“I love you too, Georgie. Forever, yeah?”

George pulls Y/N closer to his body and kisses the top of her forehead, praying that the anger he still feels in his chest goes away. “Forever.”

-

Despite the fact that George had promised her forever that night, Y/N can’t help but feel that they’re starting to drift apart. With their lifetime Quidditch ban in full effect, George and Fred have started to put even more time into their Weasley products and Y/N feels like she barely sees George anymore. He still walks her to class holding her hand tightly and he’s always sure to remind her that he loves her, but they no longer eat meals together and Y/N can’t remember the last time George begged her to skive off her homework to fool around in the room of requirement. But she’s happy that he’s found something to put his extra time into, so she doesn’t think too much is wrong until George misses their next Saturday morning meeting.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asks as Y/N slumps over to the Slytherin table. Most Saturdays Y/N’s friends don’t see her until lunch time, so they’re all surprised as she falls into her seat next to Adrian.

Y/N sighs and starts to put random food onto her plate, not really feeling like eating. “George never showed this morning. We were supposed to meet in the room of requirement and I just sat there for thirty minutes feeling like an idiot.”  

“You mean your prince charming stood you up? Guess things aren’t as happy in the kingdom as they seem,” Marcus teases. Daphne smacks him upside the head, prompting him to frown. “I was just trying to make her smile Daph no need to try and take my head off.”

“You’re an idiot, Marcus,” Daphne scolds before turning her attention back to Y/N. “I thought something was up with you guys, but I didn’t want to say anything. I feel like I’ve barely seen you two together this past week. George is usually always hovering around you, I mean he practically worships the ground you walk on. You guys get into a fight or something?”

Y/N shrugs, picking at her muffin. “He was pretty pissed after what happened last weekend at the Quidditch match. When Adrian was trying to hold me back from going over there he thought we were hugging or something. I don’t know, he was really angry though. But I thought we uh, worked it out if you get what I mean. But clearly not.”

“What a git. He managed to score the hottest girl in school and yet he still managed to fuck it up,” Adrian murmurs, putting his arm around Y/N’s middle. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

Y/N rests her head against Adrian’s shoulder and sighs. “He’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Don’t look now,” Daphne whispers, leaning over the table. “He just walked in with Fred, act natural.”

Y/N ruffles Adrian’s hair as she sits up, trying to pretend that she can’t feel George’s eyes starting at the back of her head.

-

George slams his quill down on the table, running his hand through his hair. “Fucking bullshit. No matter how many times I calculate it the numbers just don’t match up.”

“Will you chill out? It’s not that big of a deal we can work on that shit later,” Fred urges, watching George carefully. “What’s got your panties in a twist lately? I’ve never seen you this worked up.”

It’s Saturday afternoon, and Fred and George are tucked away in a corner of the common room, working on stuff for their joke shop. George has been trying to work on an input output expense sheet, but all of the numbers keep blurring together and he can’t seem to figure out how to make them balance. It probably has something to do with the fact that things between him and Y/N aren’t quite right, but he doesn’t want to think about that.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” George says flatly, looking back over the sheet in front of him.

Fred sighs and leans back in his seat. “You’re a shit liar, you know that? And I do have eyes, you know. Something’s going on with you and Y/N and you’re clearly upset about it. And I’m not going to stop asking about it until you tell me so just spill it so we can get back to work.”

“I’ve just been so angry with her lately, like constantly. Every time I’m around her it just flares up in my chest and I have this urge to just, I dunno. Yell at her.” George pauses. “I mean did you see the way he was touching her today? I wanted to storm over there and rip him away.”

Fred knits his eyebrows together. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Adrian,” George clarifies, his voice dark. “He’s always touching her, and Y/N just lets him. Even though she knows how I feel about him. Did you know I had to beg her to wear my Quidditch jumper to the game last week? And do you know why? Because she always wears Adrian’s,” he mocks. “I’m her bloody boyfriend and I had to beg her not to wear another guys jumper, it’s ridiculous.”

Fred reaches out and puts a comforting hand on George’s shoulder. “You’re my brother and I care about you, please try and remember that as I say the next thing. You’re a fucking idiot, George. I know I’m not Y/N’s biggest fan, but it’s clear that she cares about you. The way that she looks at you George, even when you’re not paying attention it’s like you’re the only thing in the world she cares about. I don’t think she means any harm when she’s like that with Adrian and deep down you know that too. I mean they’ve always been like that. Remember when you guys got detention before you were together? He showed up to walk her back to the common room and he gave her a piggyback ride. It’s not like they’ve just started being close. I don’t think I ever saw her away from Adrian or any of her friends until you guys started dating. Whatever you’re feeling is all in your head.”

“It doesn’t feel all in my head. The way he looks at her, it’s not the way someone looks at a person who’s just a friend,” George insists.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Okay so say Adrian does have feeling for Y/N. He’s clearly very deep in the friend zone. We all heard you guys last weekend, screaming about how she’s yours forever or whatever. Nearly made me throw up in my mouth, mate.”

George punches Fred’s shoulder lightly. “Fuck off. Y/N said the same thing but-“

“See! There you go,” Fred interjects, cutting George off. “Y/N said it herself. She’s in love with you, not Adrian. So, stop being an idiot and go apologize to her before she realizes what a dolt you are and ends it for good.”

George does leave the common room then, fully intending to go and see Y/N. He still feels angry deep in his chest, but his need to be close to her overwhelms all of it. That is until he finds Y/N in the library, her head titled back in a laugh at something Adrian has said. The anger in George’s chest flares as she pushes him playfully, a wide smile on her face that’s usually reserved for George.

-

Y/N can tell something has gone wrong, when there’s no Weasley’s in attendance at breakfast on Monday morning. They had all been a dinner the night before, and one Weasley not being around is perfectly normal. Even two being absent is normal if it’s Fred and George. But all four of them is unheard of, especially when Harry never shows up for breakfast either. She tries to keep herself calm, thinking that maybe they’re just doing something for the DA or planning some revenge on Umbridge. But when lunch comes around and Y/N has yet to see George or Fred in class and there hasn’t been a single streak of red hair floating around the halls, Y/N makes a beeline for the Gryffindor table where Hermione is sitting alone.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s George and everyone else. I haven’t seen them since dinner last night,” Y/N asks as she takes a seat next to Hermione. When Hermione finally looks at Y/N there’s a worried expression on her features and it makes Y/N’s stomach drop.

“George didn’t owl you?” When Y/N shakes her head, Hermione leans forward to whisper in her ear. “I can’t say too much, Dumbledore’s orders. But something happened and Mr. Weasley was badly injured, he’s in St. Mungo’s. George and the rest of the Weasley’s along with Harry took a portkey home last night, Dumbledore gave them all permission to start winter break a few days early.”

Y/N frowns, a mixture of emotions flowing through her body. On one hand she’s worried about George’s dad and how he’s coping with everything. And on the other she’s hurt that George didn’t feel comfortable enough to reach out to her and tell her what’s going on. Y/N had hoped they could make things right before being a part for two weeks, but it seems that the wedge between them is only being pushed farther and farther apart.

“Is he going to be okay? Mr. Weasley? God George must be freaking out.”

Hermione shrugs. “I haven’t heard anything yet, Harry sent an owl when they got to their destination last night. They hadn’t heard much yet, but I’m sure he’s in good hands at St. Mungos. And I’m sure George will reach out soon, Y/N. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Y/N gives Hermione a small smile before she goes to join her friends, a pit of despair growing in her stomach.

-

“It’s Christmas eve, Y/N. You’ve been held up in your room sending letters all break, can’t you give it a rest for a few days? I’m sure Daphne or Adrian will understand if they don’t get any letters from you for a bit,” Y/N’s mother says, reaching over to grab the quill from her hand.

It’s been a week since George’s father was attacked, and Y/N has been sending him letters nearly nonstop without hearing anything in return. Her owl always comes back with an empty beak, so she knows he’s been getting the letters, and her heart hurts every time he doesn’t respond. She just wants to know if he’s okay, if there’s anything she can do for him. Y/N knows she’s been ignoring her parents a little too much, but she can’t think about anything except for George.

“I’m not writing to Daphne or Adrian,” Y/N huffs, finally looking up at her parents. They’re sitting at the table having lunch together, or at least her parents are. Y/N’s owl had turned up without a response from George just before food was ready, and Y/N wants to send another to him as soon as possible.

“Well then who have you been writing too?” her father asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you write this much in your entire life.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a pink blush appearing on her cheeks. “George Weasley,” she mumbles, looking away.

“George Weasley? Y/N whatever prank that boy pulled on you can be dealt with when you get back to school. There’s no need to be going on and on with him over break,” her mother tuts with a shake of her head.

Y/N’s parents have spent much of their time over the past few years listening to Y/N complain endlessly about both Weasley Twins, so it doesn’t surprise her that her mother thinks her letters to George are out of anger instead of love. Especially since she’s yet to tell them about their relationship.

“Actually, George is my, um. He’s my boyfriend,” Y/N mutters, sheepishly looking back at her parents. They both look shocked and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look so surprised, I’m a great catch, of course I have a boyfriend.”

Y/N’s father laughs. “Sweetie we’re not shocked that you have a boyfriend, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world of course. But I’m going to be honest, George Weasley is the last person I thought you’d end up with. Last we heard you hated the very sight of him.”

“Well not anymore. I love him, so much. He’s been going through some stuff recently and I just want to make sure he’s okay,” Y/N explains. She makes sure to leave out the part that she thinks he’s going to break up with her when they get back to school, since she’d much rather ignore that for now. “Can I just finish this one letter, please? And then I won’t send another until boxing day, I promise.”

Her mother sighs and reluctantly hands her back the quill. “Fine, just one more letter. But seriously no more until boxing day. Not only is it the holidays but your poor owl needs a few days to rest.”

-

“You should write her back you know,” Ginny comments as she sits down next to George.

George hums, gripping Y/N’s most recent letter in his hands. His chest aches at how sad she sounds, but he can’t bring himself to pick up a quill and write her back. “I don’t know what to say.”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “How about I’m a big fat idiot and the second I see you again I’m going to fall to my knees and beg for your forgiveness? That’s probably a good place to start.”

“Dunno why I have to be the one to apologize,” he mutters, wincing when Ginny smacks him upside the head. “What the hell was that for, Gin?”

“For you continuing to be a big fat idiot,” Ginny spits. “You’ve been acting like a huge asshole to her lately George that’s why you need to apologize. It only takes a person with half a brain to see how you’ve been pushing her away. So cut the crap. Either apologize to Y/N and beg for her forgiveness or break it off.”

The thought of breaking up with Y/N makes his stomach lurch. There’s no doubt in his mind that he wants to be with her, but it feels like he doesn’t know how to anymore. It seems that whenever Y/N is around Adrian is right there too, and it makes anger flare up in his chest. He knows it’s not rational, but it doesn’t make it any easier to stop feeling that way. George wants Y/N all to himself, as selfish as that may be.

“She’s probably gonna break up with me, so I don’t see the point.” George tosses the letter in his hands onto the coffee table and leans back against the couch. “Who knew being in a relationship would be so difficult?”

“It wouldn’t be so difficult if you just talked to her, git,” Ginny points out. “She’s written you a letter practically every day of break, obviously she cares about you and is worried about you.” Ginny pauses so George will look over at her. “What’s wrong anyway? Thought you guys were doing okay?”

George shrugs. “I can’t stand Adrian and his smug fucking face. He’s just there. Always. Watching her, trying to get close with her. And Y/N just sits there and lets him. You know I caught them together in the library a few nights before Dad was attacked.”

Ginny’s jaw drops. “You caught them hooking up?”

“What? No. They were doing homework,” George explains.

Ginny punches George in the thigh as hard as she can. “You’re a fucking moron, George. Since when is doing homework in the library someone cheating? Or a reason to get mad?”

“It wasn’t just the fact that they were doing homework. They were sitting next to each other and he was making her laugh,” George huffs, as if Ginny is the one being unreasonable.

“You’re joking, right?” When George doesn’t say anything, Ginny rolls her eyes. “Since when are you this insecure, George? Y/N is crazy about you. And Adrian is her friend, of course he’s gonna be around.” She bites her lip. “I think you’ve been putting too much thought into this George.”

George sits there for a moment, letting Ginny’s words sink in. Perhaps he has been getting a bit ahead of himself. Something about seeing Y/N with Adrian when he was so worked up over what Draco had been saying must have twisted something in his mind. He had felt jealous about Adrian before that, but never in a way that made him question his relationship with Y/N. Usually all it takes is one look from Y/N and all of his ill thoughts flush away. But lately it seems nothing can calm him down. He’s been putting distance between them in the hopes that his anger would finally go away, but as soon as it feels like he’s back to normal the second Y/N is in his vicinity with Adrian it all comes rushing back.

“I think I have been too,” he admits quietly. “It doesn’t feel real, sometimes. That Y/N is actually mine. I thought I only started developing feelings for her this year, but I think I’ve felt things for her for a while, I was just too stubborn to realize it. And now that I have her I want her all to myself. Like if I share her with other people she might just disappear from my life completely.”

Ginny reaches out to pat George on the shoulder. “Then tell her all of that, George. Because it’s actually kind of sweet in a weird way. Y/N loves you, George. And I know you love her. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt because you don’t have the balls to just talk to your girlfriend.”

“What a pep talk you give, Gin,” George chuckles. “But you’re right. I’m gonna talk to her, first chance I get. This is too much to put into a letter. I wanna be able to look at her while I talk to her.”

“Great. Now will you stop being so miserable? It’s really killing the Christmas spirit,” Ginny teases, ruffling his hair.

-

“Are things with George getting any better?” Daphne asks from her spot on Y/N’s bed. Her parents had decided to do some traveling in the new year, and Y/N’s parents allowed Daphne to finish up the last few days of break at their house.

Y/N shakes her head, flopping down next to her. “Nope. I haven’t heard a thing all break. Every time Aries comes back his beak is empty. So, he’s clearly reading my letters and he can’t be bothered to write back.”  

Daphne puts her arm around Y/N and tosses the copy of Witch Weekly she’d been reading off of the bed. “What a fucking prick. I haven’t said much about it because I love you and you’re my best friend and I know he means a lot to you, but Adrian was right. You do deserve better, Y/N. Your boyfriend should be worshiping you, not ignoring you.”

Y/N hadn’t told anyone about George’s dad, and she’s sure he’d get a bit more sympathy from Daphne if she knew, but if Hermione couldn’t even tell her how his Dad got hurt Y/N is sure she shouldn’t tell anyone about it at all. And besides, Hermione had owled the day after Christmas to let her know that Mr. Weasley was home and recovering well. George’s lack of communication cut Y/N deeper after hearing that.

“I think he’s going to break up with me,” Y/N admits out loud for the first time, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I love him so much and I thought he loved me too, but I don’t know. It’s like overnight things changed between us and I’m the only one trying to fix it.”

Daphne pulls Y/N in tight and hugs her. “This is the second time you’ve cried over George being an asshat and my offer still stands. I will have Adrian and Marcus beat him up.”

“The last time I cried over George he was only being an asshat in my head. But now, I’m sure he’s being an asshat in real life too,” Y/N sniffles. “God I wish break lasted just a little bit longer. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I see him on that stupid train tomorrow.”

Daphne starts to stroke Y/N’s hair and wipes away a few of her tears. “Well just say the word and I’ll have Adrian and Marcus on him before he can even say Quidditch.”

-

When Y/N and Daphne get on platform 9 ¾  the next morning George’s shock of red hair is the first thing she sees. She forces herself to stay focused on her parents as they say goodbye, no matter how badly she wants to look over at him. Her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest, and all she really wants to do is sneak onto the train and to her friends without running into any Weasley. But of course, the second she’s on the train she walks smack into a hard, familiar chest.

“Trying to mow me down?” George teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.

It reminds Y/N of when they were still dancing around each other, too scared to admit their feelings, and it punches a hole in her chest. “Hi, George.” Y/N pushes away from him and starts to walk away, but George’s hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her back towards him. “What?” she asks flatly, looking up at him. Her eyes catch something shiny stuck to the scarf he’s wearing, and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling. “You got your Christmas present I see.”

She had wanted to get him something big and flashy for their first Christmas together. But everything she considered just didn’t seem special or sentimental enough. She had found it in some muggle store in London while shopping with her Mum, and even though it was tiny and simple, it was the perfect thing. It’s a little enamel pin in the shape of a teapot. The hours she spent with George scrubbing teapots is the foundation of their relationship, it was after that night that she first started falling in love with him.

George bites his lip and reaches out to cup her cheek. “I was an asshole to you. And you have every right to be super mad at me. But can we go talk somewhere, please?”

Y/N nods and lets George grab her hand and take her over to an empty compartment. It’s clear to her that she and George have some issues they need to work out, but she’s happy to just enjoy some time with him for now. They haven’t been alone together in nearly three weeks, and she’s been dying for his attention. She takes a seat as George closes the door behind them and pulls him down next to her once he’s close enough.

“I have a lot of things to say and I don’t know if they’re going to come out right so please just stick with me while I try and say them, okay?” George takes a deep breath and reaches out to grab Y/N’s hands in his. “I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks, even before break. I think Draco knocked something loose in my head when he punched me, I’ve just been so angry since that day, and I don’t really know why. Just seeing you and Adrian together fills me with rage. And I know it shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you. I just kept getting in my head about everything and it made me not treat you the best. I’m sorry, Y/N.”  

“Then why push me away, George? Why not answer one of my stupid letters? I’ve been losing my mind here, trying to figure out what’s going on in that head of yours. I meant what I said that night, I’m yours forever, Weasley.”

George sighs and leans down to press a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I started over analyzing everything and I couldn’t tell what was real and what was going on in my head. You mean so much to me, and the thought of losing you made me go even crazier.” George pauses so he can tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I should have written to you and at least let you know I was okay, I’m sorry for that. But this is a conversation I didn’t want to have in a letter. I wanted to be able to see you and hold you.”

“It’s okay, George. I guess when we started dating there was some stuff we should have talked about that we kind of just ignored and that’s partially my fault. I just tried to integrate you into my life that already existed, when in reality we should have started something new together,” Y/N explains, squeezing his hands. “Adrian and I are closer than normal friends, and I can see why that would concern you. Same thing with the sweater. Of course, you’d want me to wear yours, I shouldn’t have even questioned it. I’m sorry, George. I’ll try and do better too, okay? Because I love you and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I love you so, so much.  And I’ve been really shit at showing it. I meant what I said that night too, Y/N. Forever.” George leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, melting when she returns it. “I don’t deserve you.” George kisses her again, winding his arms around her. “Alright, I think now is the perfect time to give you your Christmas present.”

Y/N holds her hands out, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Come on then, let’s see what you got me!”

George rolls his eyes playfully and takes a long black box out of his jacket pocket. “I do want to preface this by saying that I bought this ages ago before I got your present in the mail, and they do say great minds think alike.”

“You got me a tea pot pin too?” she teases, taking the box from George. A quiet gasp leaves her lips as she opens the box, and she gives George a small smile. “George it’s perfect.” Inside the box is a delicate silver chain with two charms attached. One is in the shape of the letter G and the other is a teapot. “Although I find it quite funny that we both got each other teapot related items.”

“Well that’s the night it all began, isn’t it?” George ask as he takes the box from Y/N. He grabs the necklace and motions for her to turn around so he can put it on her. “After that detention I knew I couldn’t live without you, Y/N. Listening to you talk about wanting to be a healer, and how you wanted to change the world, it made me see you differently. Made me start to fall in love with you. Besides I don’t think I could find a charm of a secret passageway.”

Y/N giggles, and as soon as the necklace is on Y/N turns around and pulls George into a kiss, her hand coming up to grip the charms tightly. When George starts to pull away Y/N surges forward to keep their lips pressed together for a few extra moments. “I love you, George. Thank you.”

“Course, darling. Anything for you.” George pulls Y/N into his chest and presses a kiss to the top of her head, the anger he’s felt for so long finally quieting down.

#George weasley #George Weasley imagine #George weasley smut #gw #golden

[krreader]

diamond maknae | after-show rush.

pairing: jeon jeongguk x diamond maknae!reader fandom: bts warnings: eighth member of bts!reader ; maknae reader ; sex ; dirty talk ; spanking ; unprotected sex (protect yourself boo’s) ; degradation ; language genre: smut word count: 1.4k+

summary: how could jeongguk let an opportunity such as this one go to waste? he had earned a bit of pleasure after the performance of tonight, right?

a/n: remember when this started out as innocent practice kisses? Well, this is what it has turned into now, I don’t give a fuck anymore, these two (as well as dm x yoongi) will be my downfall and I live for them. please enjoy this pure smut piece. 

“How about we all just take a quick shower and then meet in my room for a debriefing?” Namjoon suggested as all eight of you, as well as two of your bodyguards left the elevator.

“Sounds perfect,” Jimin sighed in anticipation of a hot shower, walking up ahead to his room, “I feel like I'm still sweating.”

You smiled a little and watched all of the boys disappear into the rooms before you walked into your own hotel room.

You had lucked out and had gotten the one at the end of the hallway with the best views, but that also meant that you only had one person in the room next to you and because the two hotel rooms were actually one giant one, there was only a door separating them.

And given the fact that it wasn't just any of your band members that inhabited that room, it came to absolutely no surprise when the shower door got opened only a few seconds after you had entered it.

“For a moment there I thought you'd shower in your own room for once,” you chuckled.

“And miss out on all this?” Jeongguk's arm wrapped around your middle and pulled you against his naked body, leaning down to kiss your shoulder, “That'd be rather stupid, wouldn't it?”

“You heard Namjoon,” you giggled and turned around in his arms, sleeking his already damp strands of hair back, “He wants to meet after a quick shower.”

“Oh, I can be quick,” he wiggled his eyebrows and leaned down only enough so that he could put his hands under your butt and lift you up.

And once again he showed you just how much he had been working out by how easy it looked for him.

You let out a hiss when your back was met with the cold tiles of the shower, but that turned into a moan when your secret boyfriend began sucking on your neck, your legs tightening around him as your arousal started to pool between your legs.

Doing this with him has always been a dangerous game, whether it was at home with literally every single one of your brothers around, or in a hotel room where any of them could easily become suspicious when knocking at both yours and Jeongguk's door and neither of you answering... because you were too busy fucking each other.

But how could you stop when he made you feel so damn good?

When his hard dick was resting against your entrance, showing you just how desperately he wanted to be inside you and feel your warmth, you dug your nails into his back and tried to rub yourself against his hardened length for some friction.

Yeah, neither of you would last very long today. That might have something to do with the adrenaline that was left in your bodies from the concert, but the why didn't really matter in that moment, did it?

“I want you so badly,” you moaned out after a few minutes of him leaving open mouth kisses against your neck and pushing his chest against yours, so that your hard nipples were rubbing over his toned chest over and over again, “Please..-”

You've been on this rodeo for long enough to know just what he liked. Begging being one of the things that really got Jeongguk going.

He let out a chuckle and looked up at you from under his eyelashes, his hair still sleeked back.

A fucking meal.

And he was all yours.

If you have had any more time, you gladly would have gotten down on your knees and sucked the living soul out of him, making him moan so hard that he'd have a hard time sitting still.

But that had to be postponed.

And it seemed like Jeongguk didn't mind at all.

He was happiest when he finally pushed inside of you, his entire face breaking out in the biggest and most relaxed smile.

“You're so fucking warm, (Y/N).”

You wrapped both arms and legs even tighter around him, biting down on his lower lip and gently pulling on it before whispering.

“Fuck me, then.”

“Oh, don't you worry, princess,” he pulled out a little before pushing so deeply inside you that you gasped, “I will.”

And he had absolutely zero mercy tonight.

He fucked you against that shower wall like there was no tomorrow and didn't slow down for the life of him, even when you thought he might get tired of holding you up eventually, he just carefully pushed your legs down, turned you around and fucked you from behind. 

But he only went harder like this if that was even possible.

One of his hands was at your waist, the other brushed your hair to the side so that he could place a kiss against your shoulder blade.

“You were so hot on that stage tonight, baby,” he pulled out momentarily, only to push as deeply inside of you as before, fully burying himself inside of you now, “I had so much trouble not getting hard seeing you dance like that, you know?”

You chuckled, something that he considered to be 'bratty behavior' and he instantly punished you for it, slapping down hard on your ass cheek.

“I wonder if you do that on purpose.. dance like that because you know it'll make me want to fuck you. Is that the case, baby girl?”

“Hey, Jeongguk, how about you stop talking and continue fucking me?”

You talking back was usually not this direct. He was taken aback, but only for a second, then he grinned.

A dangerous game you were playing here, but he was up for it.

And then the next thing you knew, he pulled out of you completely and then grabbed your wrist to lead you out of the shower and into the bedroom.

And no matter your protests, because you were both still soaking wet, obviously, he pushed you into the mattress face forward, grabbed your wrists and pulled them behind your back, holding them there with one hand, before spanking you once again.

“Scream into the bed sheets, baby girl. I don't the hyungs to worry about you.”

A well placed threat, because as soon as he pushed himself back inside of you, it was absolutely over for you.

He fucked you so hard that you had no other choice but to scream into the bed sheets, especially when he finally found your g-spot and practically was about to destroy it.

You could tell that he was desperately trying to keep his moans in, but the closer he got to his orgasm, the louder he became and at one point, it seemed like he just didn't give a fuck anymore and let out one loud moan after another.

It was as if he eventually just thought: ‘Let them hear me fucking her’.

And as he was chasing his moment of relief, you were on a wave of your own pleasure that just didn't want to stop, because he didn't stop.

But you also didn't want it to stop.

Never.

But just like the concert tonight, all good things had to end eventually.

Jeongguk had fucked you for nearly fifteen minutes at an incredibly fast and rough pace at this point so he finally exploded, spilling himself inside of you to the fullest, making sure that all of his cum was inside of you by pushing into you a few more times even after he left out that final scream of pleasure.

Only when he was sure that it was all out and in you, did he fall forward onto you.

You had to catch your breath for a good minute, still reeling from your own orgasm, before you could turn your head to the side and whisper: “We'll be late if we don't actually take a shower now, Jeongguk. They might suspect something.”

“Can you stop thinking about hyungs for a second?” he lifted his head only so much that he could kiss your cheek, “I want to enjoy this for a bit longer.”

“You had your fifteen minutes of fame in my vagina, Jeongguk,” you chuckled, “Now pull your dick out of me and let me wash up.”

He knew that you were right, you always were. So he had no other choice but to do just that and take that shower that he had said he would to his hyungs in his own room.

Naturally, he was a lot faster than you, but still way too late.

“Did you jerk off, or what?” Yoongi crossed his arms in front of his chest as Jeongguk finally walked in, “Can’t you be a little faster with it next time? We’ve been waiting for a while now.”

“Stop it, hyung,” Jimin quickly defended the youngest and pulled him down next to him.

“What about (Y/N) then? She's not here either yet, you don't say anything about that,” Taehyung pouted.

“Oh, she's going to get what's coming to her too, don't you worry,” Yoongi grinned wickedly, making Jeongguk's eyebrows furrow.

Pretty sure that he just gave you that.

#bts imagine #bts x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeongguk imagine #bts #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #reader #jeon jeongguk x reader #requests

[harrysgloves]

In the Middle

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

Story Summary: Florence and Harry are smitten with their makeup artist on set. 

Word Count: 10k (dear god I got carried away. I’m so sorry)

Warnings: Language // Threesome // MFF // Oral Sex (Female Receiving) // Unprotected Sex // Spanking (I couldn’t not include this) // Dirty Talk // W | W (obviously) // Mentions of religion (it’s more a metaphor.. not sure how to explain that?) // 

Authors Note: Woooo boy, she’s finally done. Been working on this baby for a while so please comment. I’d love to hear your feedback! Also, the reader has an adopted last name in this... Not sure if that bothers anyone or not but if it does please tell me and I won’t do that in future fics.

>>><<<

It was your first day on this movie set and honestly, you were scared shitless. This movie was so star-studded you were almost positive that you'd say something stupid to at least one of them. That'd be just your luck, your first job as lead makeup artist and you'd let some gibberish crap fall out your mouth. 

You took a deep breath, standing in front of the door to your trailer. Your trailer. It was so surreal, you were finally getting your lead moment, and all you could think about was 'I better not mess this up and get black listed.'

"Gonna open the door or are ya goin' to do makeup out 'ere?" The voice from behind you caught you off guard. You wished you wouldn't have let out the shriek when you jumped around to see the beautiful specimen of a man standing in front of you.

Of fucking course it had to be one of the main actors.

Your face heated. Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun when you heard him chuckle from his spot. His hands shoved deep in his pockets as he looked at you like you were the most amusing thing he'd seen in a while.

"Don't scare the poor girl." His co-star said as she walked up from behind him. Her hand slapped against his chest as she walked past him and towards you. His grin never faltered as you stood there completely starstruck and trying your best to not be a blubbering idiot.

"Here, lemme help." She said as she held out her hand. A sweet smile forming on her lips when you handed her the keys.

"Always make me out to be a dick, love." Harry mumbled to Florence when she finally found the right key to your trailer door. 

"Easy to make you out to be a dick when you are one." She said with a shrug. He rolled his eyes but you could tell it was all in good fun. "If he messes with you, jus' tell me. I'll take care of him."

"Think she's gonna 'ave to talk to us 'fore she goes tellin' on me." He smiled widely as he teased you. Whatever shred of your usually vibrant personality had been completely washed away by nerves. You couldn't believe you were standing in either of their presence.

If only your 13 year old self could see you now. Even she would be telling you that you're a fucking idiot.

"We don't bite." Florence said as she pulled you inside your trailer. Your head nodded because honestly it was the only way to guarantee that you wouldn't say something stupid.

"Unless yeh want us to." Harry teased. Florence immediately shot him a look you'd never want to see directed at you.

"I'm good." You squeaked out. Your bag being quickly thrown on your table before you turned on all the lights to the place.

It was simple but it was completely yours. You were finally the head honcho, the boss, the shot caller. It was all up to you- how the makeup looked, how the prosthetic were applied. It was something you were pretty sure would never happen to you but knowing Olivia Wilde definitely had it's privileges.

You'd never imagined working on The Lazarus Effect would lead to almost a five year friendship with so many great opportunities. Plus, she didn’t judge you for your train-wreck of nerves you had your first day of work.

"So yeh know us. Wot's yeh name?" Harry asked you after mindless banter with Florence. Her head filled with curlers turned to look at you standing over Harry. The foundation you were dabbing on his face smeared slightly as your nerves picked back up. 

You were never good at the talking part of the job. Not until you warmed up to people a bit. You were definitely more reserved of the makeup artist in the industry. You stuck to yourself for the most part and only your closet friends knew how you really were and you really preferred not getting mixed up in any celebrity business.

"Um, Y/N." You said as you sat the makeup brush down on your table before moving to start taking the curlers out of Florence's silky blonde hair. The perfectly formed curls bounced out, your fingers ran through them to diffuse them a bit. 

"Been doing this long?" She asked as you busied yourself with hair. Trying your best to not pull or tug on it too hard and hurting her on accident.

"Not long." You said, the nerves you had dissipated a bit when you talked about something that you enjoyed doing. "Five years but I mostly did low budget horror films."

"Step up from that then, innit?" Harry asked, both their eyes burned into you. Your face immediately heated again at the attention.

"A bit." You said as you finally took the last roller out of Florence's hair. You were so close to being done and getting away from everybody long enough for your anxiety to let up. "First movie I get to be in charge of the makeup department."

"Explains the nerves." Florence hummed out as she sat up in the chair, fluffing her own hair a bit as she examined your work.

"Yeah, sorry about earlier. I get a little lost in the mornings without coffee." You paid close attention to them both smiling at you. Somehow feeling like you were missing a joke until they both spoke at the same time.

"You should do tea instead."

"Never going to happen. I need my coffee to function." You said pointedly, knowing deep in your heart that you would forever be a coffee lover. 

"No way." Florence scoffed but you didn't miss that hint of a smirk on her lips as she looked towards Harry.

"'Aven't had the right tea."

"I'm not abandoning my one true love like that." You said with your arms crossed over your chest.

"Boyfriend doesn't get mad that coffee is your one true love?" Florence asked while Harry nodded his head in agreement. 

You couldn't help the laugh that left your. A fit of giggles you didn't think you'd be letting out near them any time soon or ever. Your hand came up to tell them to give you a second to compose yourself. Their eyes moved back and forth between each other and you, confusion clearly etched into their expressions.

"You really think me, who couldn't even open the door this morning, is out hitting on people? Honestly, that's the best compliment I've ever gotten." You said as you turned back around to sit down the rest of the curlers in your hands. Random giggles still escaping from you as you shook your head in disbelief. 

"They could've came onto yeh." Harry said like he was trying to figure you out. Another burst of laughter came from you when you turned back around, hands on your hips as you looked at both the ungodly beautiful people in front of you.

"I'm not really the type that attracts attention but really this was a great confidence booster." You smiled at them, whatever words both of them were about to say was interrupted by the knock on the trailer door.

"Hey, you guys are needed on set." Some assistant said quickly before walking away from the trailer. 

"Guess we gotta go. We'll see you in a bit." Florence smiled brightly at you before turning and walking out the door with a cute bounce in her step.

"See yeh, love." Harry mumbled, his hand ran through his thick brown curls that you'd spent too much time styling for no reason. He followed her out the door. His long confidant strides quickly caught up with Florence. His arm around her shoulder talking to her as you shut the door.

Maybe working with them wouldn't be so bad. Maybe you'd even learn how to not be a total mess around famous people or maybe you could even make new friends. It was a nice thought you decided, they both seemed genuinely nice to you and you could always use new connections to get yourself out there a bit more.

>>>

It only took 4 hours and a shit ton of retouches on everyone's makeup to finally get to your break for the day. Your feet were sore, your whole body felt like it'd been beat up, and you still hadn't had any caffeine. If you didn't get any in you soon you'd be cast in the next remake of Godzilla.

You quickly jumped at the opportunity to run like the wind when it was announced it was lunch time. Your sprint towards freedom was stopped at the sound of your name being called out. You groaned quietly to yourself, cursing whatever god out there for hating you this much. 

All you wanted was a damn coffee, was that too much to ask for?! You didn't think so, but apparently, someone out in the universe had it out for you today. 

Fast footsteps sounded from behind you as you stood in your spot. Yes, you were making them come to you because fuck them for not realizing lunch time meant you didn't want to chitchat.

"Wanna grab lunch with us?" Her voice rang from behind you, making you feel like such an asshole for making her walk to you.

You turned around to see the group of people she wanted you to have lunch with. Which included everyone from the set. Not just her and Harry, everyone. 

Your eyes widened as you looked at all of them. There was no way you could fake it through lunch with all those people you didn't know looking at you. Expecting you to be able to answer simple questions about yourself. Being able to carry on a semi decent conversation. You were exhausted at the mere thought of trying to not seem like a total nutcase for an entire hour. 

"Thanks but I think I'm going to put on a pot of coffee in my trailer." You said as your eyes moved away from the crowd of people back to her. Her face couldn't hide emotions even in the slightest bit. Her eyebrows furrowed, lips rolled into her mouth, trying to not look disappointed but you could see the hint of it lingering behind her eyes.

"Sure. Have a good lunch." She said in a soft voice that made your heart feel like it was getting ripped out of your chest. 

You stood and watched long enough to see her shaking her head at Harry. His arm around her shoulder as he frowned down at her before looking up to you. A soft smile across his lips before he bent down to say something lowly in Florence's ear.

You turned on the spot and headed for your trailer. A sigh of relief left you the second the door closed. You were always the type that needed recharge time. You had to be alone for a bit here and there during the day so you could unwind. Wash all the anxiety from being around people off you.

You hit the playlist you had saved on your phone as your chill out music. The coffee pot in your trailer gurgled in the background over your music. The slow soft beats filled the air around you. Swirling beautiful with the scent of the coffee.

You lived for this shit. 

"Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise.

Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies."

You were at the best moment, the cup of coffee in your hand, your voice echoing the words of the song you had a slight obsession with when a knock came from your door.

"Shit!" You yelled when the coffee from your cup splashed out at your knee-jerk reaction to the interruptive knock. The hot liquid barely missed you but still… you could cry over spilled coffee, right?

You threw down a towel you had in arms reach on the floor before scurrying to the door. Hoping it was Olivia here to tell you that she decided to go in a different direction and needed to replace you as head makeup artist.

"Scares like a cat." Harry said more to Florence than you when your head poked out of the door. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile forming on your lips. 

"You made me spill my coffee." You said with a fake pout. Harry's eye brightened as his dimpled smile came across his face. 

"Good, we brought you something better." Florence chimed in, a cup of something that definitely wasn't coffee in her hand was now glaring at you. A bag of take out boxes in another.

"Ew." You scrunched your nose as you looked at the offensive cup. Your hand finally opened the door enough for them both to slip in.

"You guys didn't have to bring me lunch." You brows furrowed. Why were they being so nice to you? You had no idea. You weren't really the friendly type, not until you warmed up to people at least.

"Noticed yeh didn't 'ave lunch with yeh. Can't run on coffee and no food." Harry shrugged slightly. Like it wasn't a big deal that they somehow managed to notice you had no lunch with you that day. Your confusion grew more by the second. Maybe this was how people became friends? You weren't entirely sure.

"Love this song." Harry muttered before he plopped down on the love-seat in your trailer. His feet kicked up on the coffee table, obviously making himself at home in your space. 

"It's a good one but nothing tops 'Dreams'." You said as you took a seat on one of your makeup chairs, Florence sat on the other side of Harry.

"You two have the same bad taste in music." She groaned as she fished out the first take out box from the bag she had in her hand. Your shocked gasp made her pause.

"How dare you say that about our Lord and Savior, Stevie Nicks. You should be ashamed of yourself." Your dramatic voice and Harry's laughter of agreement made her roll her eyes at you both. Quickly going back to unpacking the bag they brought for all three of you.

"Want us to turn on 'Wonderwall' for you?" You asked through a voice cracked with laughter. Her green eyes immediately snapped to yours, narrowing at you.

"Fuckin' hell, that was a good one." Harry mumbled out, his arm wrapped around her as he smiled widely at her fake pouting.

"See if I bring you lunch ever again." She mumbled under her breath. Finally done unloading the three take out boxes and all the utensils out of the bag. 

You gave her a fake pout. Her eyes rolled when she handed you the box. You were too curious for your own good most of the time, right now though, you were scared to open this box and some weird ass Hollywood "lunch" would be staring back at you.

Harry's amused eyes kept meeting yours when you'd look up from your box to whatever the hell they were eating. Nothing but rabbit food and not the good kind either, whatever they were managing to shovel down their throats smelled like rotten eggs. You were trying your best to not be a whiny brat about getting free lunch when you heard Harry let out a chuckle from his side of the room. Florence immediately looked up to see you staring blankly at the box in front of you.

"Gonna open it up, kitten?" Harry asked with an infuriating smug smile on his lips. Your eyes rolled at the nickname but you couldn't deny it stirred something in you.

"We didn’t get you steamed kale." Florence giggled when the sigh of relief left you. 

"Thank fuck. I thought I was going to have to gag that crap down." You smiled when you opened the box. A plate of harmless looking pasta sat in front of you. All the carbs and wonderful goodness in the world that you absolutely adored. 

Leave the healthy shit for them, you thought.

"Wait!" She yelled from across the room, you jumped slightly at the loud sound making Harry laugh. "Got to try this first."

"No way. I'd rather eat the stinky kale then whatever's in this." You tried to push your hand away from the drink she was adamantly trying to hand you. 

"Come on. Jus' fo' fun, yeah? Never 'ave to try anything new again with us if yeh don't like it." Harry said. Florence head snapped around to him quickly before looking back at you. A curt nod of her soft blonde curls told you she agreed with him.

You took the cup from her. Cautiously opening the lid to peak at the color of the drink. A bright green color stared back at you. Your nose scrunched up at the sight but the smell wasn't the worst, not compared to the steamed green leaves the other two were eating. 

"Bottoms up. If I die, tell my parents I was forced to drink this." You mumbled out right before downing half the cup of cold green liquid. You hoped if you chugged it the way you did cheap beer when you were 19 would mean you wouldn't taste it much.

You were wrong but surprisingly you were thankfully you got a good taste because it was fucking delicious.

Your eyes brightened when you took the next sip. Slower this time to actually enjoy the drink. 

"Told yeh she'd like it." Harry said with a smug smile across his face. The look of triumph directed toward Florence who pushed his shoulder with her own at his comment.

"Sod off, Harold."

"This is really good." You said in between drinks. A very prominent caffeine buzz started to hit you by the time you'd finished the last drop.

"Got more caffeine too." Harry smiled brightly. Florence rolled her eyes as she stabbed a piece of kale with her fork.

"Yeah, well, the pasta was my idea and I'm sure she'll love it." She grumbled like it was some sort of contest between them.

It didn’t take long for you to realize you actually liked hanging out with the both of them. They were able to keep up a conversation with ease, even whenever you didn't feel like talking they both could somehow sense it. They weren't draining to be around, which really surprised you. 

The both of them could joke and tease. You and Florence ganged up on Harry. Harry and you on her. Florence and Harry on you. Nonstop teasing, jokes, and enough laughter you could feel your cheeks ache by the end of lunch. 

You definitely could see yourself being genuine friends with both of them.

>>>

To say you three managed to get close fast was an understatement. You three practically became inseparable by the end of the first week of shooting. If all three of you weren't together at least two of you were and the other one wasn't far behind.

It quickly became a joke on set. People constantly had to find where the three of you had snuck off to. Which was usually to the food table that was set up for the actors but Harry insisted that it was for everyone, even though you knew it wasn't.

He didn't care though, he just wanted to make sure you actually ate for the day and not just down caffeinated drinks for a meal. Florence on the other hand, was more than willing to invite you to lunch every single day. Her pleas for you to join the two of them was impossible to turn down after a while. 

You figured it was pointless anyways since they brought back food for you every time you said you weren't hungry. So today was the day you'd finally gave in to her cute pouting.

"This place looks like they have those really small dishes that cost more than my rent." You mumbled to Florence as you approached the building that looked like it had jumped out of a magazine.

"You'll love it!" She beamed brightly from beside you. You wanted to believe her, you really did, but you were more of a cheap bar food type of girl. In fact, the bar by your house now knew you by name whenever you walked through the door. Which was only slightly pathetic, but you didn't have many friends and you weren't that good at making new ones, so you weren't in any position to hurt her feelings by not liking this place.

Her hand slipped casually into yours as you neared closer to the building. Harry rounded the corner from parking his car right before you two crossed the street. His long legs stride easily over to you two, his arm around your shoulder. 

That was another thing that had threw you a bit off guard at first. They both were so touchy. Your hair, your face, holding hands, hugging, hands resting on your thigh. One of them always had a hand on you any time they could. It was a little strange at first but you quickly realized this was just how they were with you.

And you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't enjoy it now. 

"I can feel yeh bein' nervous from 'ere." Harry said so closely to your ear you could feel the soft touches of his lips against you. 

Your breathing seemed to stop for a second before you swallowed the feeling and turned to him. Eyes wide as you glanced back to Florence, trying to tell him to shut up before she realized you didn't want to be eating French cuisine.

He chuckled, shaking his head before pulling you back to the table that was already set up for you guys. 

This was fancy and you were so out of place. The small table in the corner tucked you guys away from everyone. The stark white linen over the table had you anxious from the moment you sat down. Who the fuck puts white on a table?! At least the dim lighting had your back. This way no one could see you choke on a snail as you faked your way through this lunch.

Florence hand rested on one of your legs, Harry's on the other, both of them deliberately choosing to ignore your anxious feet tapping on the floor.

"Sweetheart?" Harry called you out of your panic from looking at the menu that was in French. Screw your 14 year old self for taking 4 years of Spanish in high school. "I can order fo' yeah if you want."

"Oh, I think I'm gonna have the, um…" you paused, squinting at the menu of fancy font. "Langue de boeuf?"

"Okay, 'm not lettin' yeh eat tongue." Harry snickered when your nose scrunched up. Who in their right mind would ever want to eat that?

"Wait…" Florence said as she sat down her menu in front of her with her one free hand. Your eyes glinting over to see her looking so confused, yet so adorable with her scrunched brows pulled together. Her head tilted as she blinked a few times at you. "Do you- do you not like French food?"

"I've just… never had it before." You settled for a half-truth, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

"Your last name is François!" She said as her cheeks turned flaming red. Harry's snicker from beside you did nothing to help her embarrassment. Your hand quickly squeezed his, hard, under the table to tell him to stop.

"I'm adopted," You smiled widely at her surprised expression. It's not like she knew you were adopted and she really was being so sweet planning all this out, thinking you'd feel at home here. "And the only thing French about my dad is he knows how to say beget."

"God, I'm so sorry, if- if I'd known, I'd neve-" 

"Flor, please," you smiled as you took her hands away from fiddling with her menu. "I never told you. It's not a big deal. Besides, now you two can order for me in your fancy French words."

You dismissed her worrying with a wave of your hand and a gently prod of the menu. If anything, this was the most heartwarmingly considerate thing anyone had ever done for you. At least she tried to include things with the three of you that you'd also like.

When the, equally nervous as you, waiter finally approached your table to take your drink orders you were glad those two were handling everything. It felt sort of like being spoiled and you'd take that any day of the week. 

"I know you." The waiter, Grayson you learned from his name tag, said after a few awkward seconds of standing in front of the table. You were only half listening, assuming it was for either one of the obviously famous people sitting beside you. "Yeah! That's right you're Y/N Y/L/N-François!"

Your eyes widened, cheeks heated as you squirmed in your seat. Both Florence and Harry looking back and forth between you and your new fan.

"God, your makeup on insta is amazing. The special effects stuff is so good. Really, I'm a big fan." He gushed as you mumbled out a small thank you, your hand clutching the complementary cup of water in front of you like it was a life raft. "Here, you can have my insta handle. Maybe you can DM sometime."

His movements to start writing down his Instagram information came to a screeching halt when both Harry and Florence shot him glares. The tension grew thick between the three of them. Some sort of a weird show down as you tried to drink your water and ignore the awkwardness.

Maybe they didn't like their friends being bothered at lunch when they were with them? You weren't sure. In all honesty, this never happened to you but you could see why this would be annoying for them. They had to deal with it all the time.

This is what they'd do for any of their friends. Right?

The tension finally eased when the waiter left the table. Your cup finally placed back down on the white linen when you let out a sigh of relief. You weren't one for strangers and they both knew it. Maybe they were just telling that guy to screw off because of your nerves, yeah that was it.

The rest of the lunch went much better than you expected. Conversation between you three was never a problem but even the food was amazing.

The two of them had great taste.

"Come on. Gonna be late if we don't get out of here." Florence mumbled, her hand already in yours as she pulled you out of the seat. You didn't even have time to get a word out when Harry threw down an ungodly wad of money on the table.

"You didn't have to pay for me." You said when he caught up to you. His hand on your lower back as he guided you through the door.

"What kind of date would that be?" Florence said without thinking. Your confused eyes shooting to her briefly before looking at the horrified Harry. "Lunch date, meant lunch date, with friends."

"Oh," you said, still a bit confused but chugging through it so you didn't have any awkward conversations. "Still, thank you."

Harry's tensed shoulders relaxed when he gave you a nodd. His eyes shot daggers to Florence over your head as you three started walking.

"I'm sorry!" She mouthed silently to him. You were completely oblivious to the mimed conversation between the two as you walked in front of them.

>>>

"Lookin' sweet today, kitten." Harry's voice from behind you made you jump in your skin. Your hand over your chest like that would somehow stop your nerves.

"What's got you all dressed up?" Florence asked as they both stood in front of you on set. 

Your hands fiddled with the tight black lace top you had on. It complemented your bust so well but it made you feel awkward and out of place, like everyone's eyes were on you. Plus the pants that hugged your ass tighter than cling wrap weren't helping with the shameless stares from people.

"Is- is it too much?" Your words stumbled over themselves as your face heated.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

"Yeh look gorgeous like always." A slight frown danced on his lips as he looked down towards you. He could tell something was up by your anxious movements. Your eyes flickering around the studio like you were constantly on the lookout for someone.

"Okay," you sighed, your hand running over your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. "You guys know the sound technician, James?"

Their faces solidified to stone at your words. Both of them rigid as they looked at you. Not a hint of emotion detectable in their expressions.

"He asked me out." You felt uneasy, unsure of the decision to go to lunch with him. You felt like you were going to die in a ball of nerves at any second. This was exactly why you didn't date.

Sure, you'd gone on a date here or there. Mostly when your very small friend group got tired of you third wheeling at all the couples activities. You'd then be set up with someone, it wouldn't work out because you were one shred away from being a nutcase, and that would be the end of it.

"You can't go out with him!" Florence said shrilly, her eyes widened as the words came out of her mouth.

"Why?" You asked, eyes glancing over to the guy in question.

"He uh- he uh," she stammered, her hand slapped Harry against his chest twice for him to answer for her.

"He sniffs people!" His words rushed out of his mouth. Your eyebrows scrunched together.

"What?" You asked, as Florence hand rubbed the temple of her head before shooting a deathly glance at Harry.

"Yeah, Harry, what?" She asked, obviously annoyed but you weren't sure why. It wasn't like she was about to go on a date with the guy.

"I saw him. He likes to, uhm, yeh know." Harry looked at the ground before his hands shoved into his pockets. "He sniffs peoples hair."

"Wow," your hopes of going on a date that didn't involve cheap beer and 25 cent chicken wings suddenly blew up into flames. "Well, thanks for telling me."

"It's okay, Y/N, we'll go out to lunch." Florence said softly, her hand in yours as she gidded you off the set.

"Thanks guys." You smiled softly, head rested against Harry's chest as you three walked.

>>>

"We've got to tell her." Florence spoke quietly as she snuggled into Harry's side. His duvet wrapped tightly around the both of them in his oversized bed.

"I don't know.." He glanced at the fallen face of his girlfriend. "This all could backfire and then she won't even want to be friends."

"But, things don't feel right. It's like she's our missing piece." Her bottom lip started to tremble, corners of her eyes held onto tears that she refused to let fall. 

"I know, I feel it too." He sighed as he laid back on his pillow. Looking up at the ceiling. A large feeling grew in his stomach, despair. You didn't seem like the type who dated adventurously or tried different things in your life. 

He wanted you. God, how they both wanted you. You, their missing piece. Your presence made the both of them feel that indescribable warmth of home in their chest. Your laugh, your smile, your terrible sense of humor, and the way you had no idea just how desirable you really were.

"One of us should make a move on her." Florence said, finally breaking the silence between the two of them.

"Think?"

"Think it'll be the only way to know for sure if she likes one of us or not."

>>>

That Friday morning started like all the other mornings since you'd been on this job. A new mystery cup of tea in your hands that Harry had brought for you that morning. Their makeup was done long ago but now they hid out in your trailer until some intern was forced to go and find them. 

This had been your three's new morning routine for the past three weeks and surprisingly, you weren't bothered by having your quiet time interrupted by them. You were actually starting to look forward to these morning's. 

"Do you want to come to dinner with us tonight?" Florence asked you from her spot on the love seat. Your head lifted from the trashy magazine you were mindlessly flipping through on the floor. You chuckled as you shook your head at her, turning back to the obvious lies written in ink.

"We won't make yeh eat anythin' weird, kitten." Harry smiled easily when he moved off the couch to sit by you. His arm around your shoulders when you looked up in disbelief. 

"I could pick the place." You suggested a cheeky smug smirk across your face when they both looked like you'd asked them for a kidney. "See, I knew you two wanted to eat somewhere gross!"

"You always want tacos!" Florence groaned flinging herself against the now unoccupied side of the couch that Harry previously sat at. A pout on her face as she tried to get you to change your mind.

"I do not." You scoffed. Okay, maybe you did but still those two could use a real meal or two.

"What if we do food and a movie at mine?" Harry asked, interrupting yours and Florence's teasing back and forth.

"Yes!" She agreed eagerly, her bright eyes filled with excitement and you knew you couldn't say no even if you wanted to.

>>>

You had to admit, you were fucking nervous to go to Harry's house. The neighborhood your old Camero chugged through was definitely not like your neighborhood at all. It was all fancy houses, nice lawns, and security everywhere. You felt like you were a step away from breaking into the pentagon when you rolled up to the gate for the guard to let you in.

You stood anxiously on his front step. The 6 pack of Coors Light seemed like such a bad choice now. You mentally cursed yourself for being so stupid, how could you think someone who lived here would be okay with your cheap beer? You were four seconds away from faking a stomach ache and going home to your hole of an apartment when the door opened. Harry's smiling face with that cute little dimple popping out stared at you looking so out of place.

"Don't gotta be nervous, yeh know?" He asked when he took your hand in his, pulling you into the house.

"Well, you did say you two would bite." You crack a smile at his bark of a laugh. Nerves easily washing off you when you made it into his living room. 

"Where's Flor?" You asked, eyebrows raised when you turned to him.

It wasn't that you minded being one-on-one with Harry. You two got along great but you figured the blonde would be here already, the two of them seemed inseparable.

"On her way." He shrugged, his ass hitting the seat of the couch, motioning for you to do the same.

"What're we going to watch?" You asked as you sat down beside him, his arm around you when sat back from placing the beer down on the floor.

"Anythin' yeh want." He said, his eyes trained on you as you wracked your brain for a film those two would watch with you without complaining.

"Only watch horror." 

"No way, nope. Not watchin' a scary movie. Yeh'll never sleep." He joked, his arm tighter around you as he pulled you into his chest. 

"Not sleeping here so it's not gonna be your problem." You poked back, your head leaning against him. God, he smelled amazing.

"Sure yeh are. Got beer with yeh, can't drive drunk, kitten." His fingers lifted your chin when he spoke to you. Your eyes meeting his briefly before they flickered to his lips.

Have they always looked that good? Or was the intoxicating scent of his cologne making you drunk on him? 

You couldn't tell and honestly, you could care less what the reason was when his face seemed to inch closer to you. He was going to kiss you, you realized. Your breathing seem to halt in your throat when he was millimeters away from you. His nose pressed lightly to yours, setting your soul on fire. 

Your stomach turned and flopped, that familiar chill of desire ran down your spine all the way to your core. Your hands wanted to grip onto him, kiss him with a passion when the doorbell rang.

You jumped in your skin. Your body jerked back from him. Your big round doe-eyes staring blankly into his face. He groaned, eyes squeezed shut, resting his forehead against yours.

"She's got the worst timin'." He muttered before getting up from the couch to answer the door. The breath you'd been holding in released when he left the room.

Did you really about kiss your friend? And not only was he a friend, he was a coworker. You groaned, hands covered your face as it burned in embarrassment. What the hell were you thinking? You knew better than to ever mix business and feelings, especially when it came to famous people.

Florence entering the room with her sweet smile put a stop to your insanely degrading thoughts. You'd simply just pretend this never happened. Push it to the back of your mind and forget it, yeah that would be the solution.

>>>

"Why do we gotta watch this scary shit?" Florence asked, her hands covering her eyes as Jason stalked through the forest after innocent teenagers.

"You've literally acted in horror movies." You smiled at her glare she shot at you. Her head laid on your shoulder as she whined loudly. Harry sat on the other side of her, his hand rested on her thigh.

You had no idea how to even begin to feel about that. An hour ago he was trying to kiss you and now he was rubbing her thigh. You didn't understand but refused to acknowledge the fact that the kiss almost even happened.

There was definitely tension between the three of you, awkward feelings floating in the air around his oversized living room. You tried your best to shove it down, to ignore whatever happened with you and Harry, especially since Florence was here and you had no idea what she would think.

"Let's take shots." She said as she flipped off the TV right as Jason's machete swung wildly through the air towards screaming teenagers.

"Trying to get us drunk?" Harry chuckled as he stood and walked to the kitchen. That smile on his face that could melt hearts.

"Duh. You two are being weird." She said as she eyed you up. Your face heating so much you swore you'd burst into flames. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just you know, stupid stuff." You waved your hand, dismissing her question. An unbelieving hum coming from her as Harry came back in with a bottle of tequila and shot glasses.

"Oh fuck," you groaned at the sight of the bottle, your old enemy that made you say the dumbest shit glared back at you.

"Gonna be able to keep up, kitty?" Harry asked as he sat down a full shot glass in front of you on his coffee table. 

You wished you'd been the type of person who was smart enough to see a bad idea staring you in the face.

You were not that person.

The shot stung and burned your throat the whole way down your throat. The potent liquid turned your stomach into knots whenever it hit the acid there.

Maybe you'd regret this tomorrow morning but it'd make one hell of a story.

>>>

"Yeh never dated?" Harry asked, the upper half of his body swayed back and forth as he sat crossed legged on the floor of his living room. 

"Nope." You answered back before shooting what had to be shot number 10 down your throat. The once burning drink now felt like water when it went down.

"Wait, are you a virgin?" Florence asked, her eyes wide as she stared at you. The serious look on her face made you bust out laughing.

"I'm not a virgin. I just don't date."

"But you're so pretty. Anyone would date you." Florence said, her hand brushing back the hair from your forehead that was beading alcohol induced sweat.

"Don't have the time. Always busy." You said with a sigh. Sure, you wanted to date but your working schedule made it impossible. You couldn't even have a cat you were so busy and you fucking loved cats.

"Ever date more than one person at the same time?" Harry asked when he looked up from his shot that sat in front of him. Testing the waters, he thought, if you said you'd never do that at least you'd be likely to not remember the next day.

"Nah." You shrugged, completely missing the look Florence shot Harry's way. A warning to not push the subject.

"Y'could." He suggested as the warm feeling of sleep started to surround your body. Your eyes feeling more and more heavy by the second.

"That means two people would actually have to like me." You gave a short laugh. Your eyes closing, head falling back to lay on the couch. You'd only rest them for a second, you thought.

"We like you." Florence said quietly from beside you. Her statement being answered with your soft snores.

"She's never gonna agree to it." Harry mumbled, the shot in front of him finally being thrown to the back of his throat.

"But-" Florence started, her hands running over your hair. "I don't know, Harry. I just like her so much. Things feel right when she's around."

"I know, sweetheart." He said as he stood from his spot. His arms encircled you, picking you up as Florence stood from her spot on the floor. The two of them and the passed out you made your way to his room. The big plush bed you would have loved was soft under your body. Your hands closed around the pillow under your head.

"I wanna keep her." Florence said as she laid down beside you. Her hand rested over yours as Harry climbed into bed on the other side of you. 

"M'too but I think I scared her when I tried to kiss her." He said quietly, the both of them speaking in whispers over top of you.

Florence sighed, her lips pouting as she stared at your resting face. She knew weeks ago she liked you. Knew from the moment you laughed wholeheartedly at her terrible jokes that she wanted you. The same gleam bounced in Harry's eyes whenever he looked at you but you never noticed. 

You never took any of their flirting seriously. Never paid a second thought to them asking you out or trying to take you to nice places. 

It made a bit more sense to them now that they knew you never dated but how the hell could you not pick up on their shameless flirtation? Harry called you kitten for God's sake.

"Jus' gonna 'ave to be blunt." Harry said a while later. The both of them doing nothing else but listening to your soft snores.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow."

>>>

You woke up the next morning to a pounding in your head. Your eyes barely saw anything through the foggy vision of your sleepy eyes. You swallowed down that dry feeling in your throat - water, you needed water.

You groaned softly as you pushed yourself up from the bed that wasn't your own. You knew you'd end up crashing the night at Harry's but you didn't expect to end up in the same bed with him, with both of them.

You figured that was honestly better than you and Harry alone in the bed together, at least you know you didn't do anything with Florence laying next to you two. 

You slipped out of bed, easily. The both of them didn't move a muscle as you snuck out of the house and towards your car. Maybe it was rude for you to run off like this but you needed to nurse your hangover at your own place.

You sighed, throwing your phone on your cluttered kitchen table when you finally made it home. The traffic was awful and of course everyone was laying on their horns like that would somehow help the long line of idle cars.

Your head was killing you when you sat in your shower. The water running over you was warm and much-needed. The hangover seemed to wash down the drain with your lavender soap. 

You were calm, in your element, when frantic knocking at your door interrupted your shower. You cursed under your breath, cutting off the water quickly. Hoping it wasn't your elderly neighbor who always seemed to need help moving boxes on Saturday's.

"I'm coming, Ms. Thompson!" You yelled as the knocking grew more frantic. Your bathrobe tightly around you when you opened the door. The both of them looked like a mess of anxiety and worry.

"Uh, hi?" You said with the door barely opened enough for your head to stick out. Water dripping off you collected on the floor at your feet.

"Hi? Seriously?" Florence growled, her usually sweet and calm voice laced with irritation as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at you.

"Where's yeh phone? We thought you wondered off in the middle of the night or sumthin'. We were bloody worried, Y/N." Harry said as you opened the door for them to come in. 

"It's dead." You gestured to the useless piece of technology sitting on your table. Harry hands ran over his face as he shook his head. Florence's lips pursed as they both looked anywhere but at you.

"Am I missing something?" You finally asked after what felt like hours. "'Cause I feel like I'm being scolded by my parents right now."

"You can't be serious. God, Y/N," Florence fumed in a way you'd never seen before. The confusion in your mind growing larger by the second. "What would we have done if something happened to you?

"Uhhh…" your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked towards Harry for help. You had no idea what the hell you did to make them so worried about you.

"Can yeh sit down?" Harry asked you, his head nodded in a gesture towards your couch. Anxiety crawled through your skin as you walked over to sit on your plain and basic couch.

Harry's hands smoothing down the front of his pants and Florence foot tapping like mad on your floors did nothing to calm your racing mind. All three of you sat in tension on your couch. You were sandwiched between the both of them. Their shoulders pressed tightly against yours and maybe if it was under different circumstances you'd enjoy the close contact.

"We like you." Florence blurted out into the silence of your living room. 

Your widening eyes looked at her in complete disbelief until you burst with laughter. The snorting chuckling sounds died quickly when they both seemed to clam up.

"You're serious?" You asked, both of them seemed too nervous to answer at first. Harry's concerned filled eyes connecting with yours briefly before looking at the ground, his hands, his rings. Anywhere else.

"We do but we get if 's weird fo' yeh. We can just forget it if yeh want us to go back to bein' friends." He rushed out nervously as you let out a breath of air.

"I'm just surprised someone, who doesn't sniff people, likes me." You mumbled, hand pushing back your damp hair out of your face. Harry's snort of a laugh and a shake of his head had your eyebrows pulled together before Florence called your attention again with her nerve wrecked voice.

"I can't believe you didn't notice." Her hands fiddled together with nerves. "We kept asking you out."

"I'm a bit dense." You said with a short laugh.

"Whaddya say?" Harry asked as he took his hand in yours. Florence doing the same with the other. Flutters in your stomach blossomed at their touch. One hand, soft and silky like satin, the other, rough and calloused at the tips but smooth towards the palm.

You swallowed the nerves down. Your mind filled with so many doubts, so many thoughts all at the same time. Anxiousness mixed with excitement. It was new, different, and you had so many questions.

"How- how would this work?" You asked, both sets of eyes brightening at your words.

"How ever you want." Florence rushed out. The prospect of you actually considering this had her heart racing almost out of her chest. Really, she'd agree to anything you wanted as long as it included you three being exclusive.

"We… just date?" You asked, your brows furrowed as you stared at your hands. Your mind trying to turn out the logistics was going to drive you absolutely insane.

"Well, yes but y'know… the three of us." Harry gestured to the three of you.

"Won't someone get jealous?" You asked him, your head tilted to the side as you watched his lips purse in consideration.

"Guess if one of us gets jealous we gotta talk 'bout it. Work it out." He said, Florence nodding her head in agreement from beside you.

"And.." you started to get nervous about your next question, the one that had been blaring in your mind since this conversation started. "The sex?"

"Already tryin' to bed us, kitten?" Harry joked as Florence shot him a glare. Your face heated and eyes widened, maybe this was a bad idea, you were already about to die from embarrassment.

"Shut up." She whispered yelled from beside you like you wouldn't be able to hear it. Harry's eyes rolled in his head that smug smirk on his face.

"We don't have to talk about that for a while if you don't want to. We can figure it out later." Florence said softly from beside you. Her hand taking yours again, her thumb ran soothing circles against the back of it.

You shrugged, your lip between your teeth as you thought about what it'd be like to have both of them. A familiar heat worked up in the bottom of your stomach.

God, even just picturing it was getting you started. You could only imagine what it'd be like when it actually happened.

"The little minx." Harry laughed as he leaned up to look at you the thoughts you were thinking clearly wrote across your face. "Think she wants t'give it a try before settling on an answer, Flor."

"Hmm," she hummed from beside you, a smile cracked on her face as she brushed the damp hair off your shoulder. "Think she needs some more convincing?"

"Yeah, looks like it to me." Harry words floated over you, through the air above you. Your mind tried to desperately grab at the words, make sense of them, but it was useless. You were already gone at the mere prospect of the rest of the day's events.

"Can I kiss you?" Her word brought you down to earth but only barely. 

Her plush lips made you forget how sentences form or words could be spoken in the English language when they hesitantly met yours. They were soft, not demanding to take control. She let you come to her. Let you set the pace that you were comfortable with.

Your hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her addictive gently touch harder into you. A heavenly sounded moan slid from her mouth when your tongue slipped its way in. You could have gotten lost in the way you moved so insync with each other when she pulled back.

Your deep breathing and closed eyes made her grin widely. Maybe you would be okay with this arrangement. 

Harry's hand in yours again got your attention. Eyes snapped open to see the pretty blonde in front of you smiling smugly.

"Can I kiss yeh?" His thick accent somehow sounded richer in this moment. Your head turned to the other side to see his usually bright green eyes darken with lust. The sight of him like that could keep you satisfied for a month, maybe longer. 

"Yes." You barely had the word out of your mouth when his lips pressed forcefully to yours. Demanding movements of his mouth led you in the kiss, determined hands grabbed your hips to lift you onto his lap. The sudden movement through you off balance. Your ass hitting his very prominent boner made you moan.

Holy shit, how the hell were you supposed to handle all of that?

You whimpered as he pulled you back from him. His hands running under the robe to your unclothed ass. His calloused fingers felt rough against your skin as he groaned, his head against the back of the couch as Florence moved over beside you two.

"We can stop 'ere." Harry said through gritted teeth when your hips moved over his, chasing the feeling of his retreating hands.

Florence hummed her agreement as you sat back fully on Harry's lap. Your mind ran circled around you. The last thing you were thinking right now was quitting this.

"I want to see you kiss." You said through your nerves both their wide eyes blinked up at you. Not thinking you'd be wanting to go any further. 

Florence acted quickly, her hands on either one of Harry's cheeks as she pulled his lips to hers. The two of them were obviously familiar with the other. They'd been doing this for a while, you assumed.

Whatever worries you had about being jealous or not liking the three of you together all at one time quickly went out the window. They were fucking hot together. The sight of them wrestling for the lead sent a flood of arousal straight to your core. Your hips grinding against Harry's lap, desperate for any friction. 

"Think we got her answer." Harry mumbled into Florence's mouth, a smile on his lips as she laughed. Your face heated as she faced you with that sweet smile.

"We better make sure she doesn't change her mind then."

>>>

It was an absolute mess of limbs as you three rushed to the bedroom. Lips against lips, tongues sliding against one another's to a point you weren't sure where Harry started and Florence ended. 

"Gonna make yeh feel so good, princess." Harry's deep voice vibrated against you. His lips pressed tightly to your ear, turned upwards at the corners in a sinful smile. His hands gripped the back of your legs tighter, bringing them closer to God and you further and further away from ever having a front row ticket to the pearly gates. 

If this was why you went to hell, it'd be fucking worth it.

Her teeth grazed the inside of your bare thighs. Just enough to get your attention back to her pretty head of blonde hair between your legs. Harry's head against your shoulder as he watched her work you into an absolute mess of whines and she hadn't even done anything yet.

"So sensitive, baby." She smiled against your skin. Her perfect white teeth biting a bit harder into you before sucking the flesh of your inner thigh into her mouth. Marking you as theirs. 

You whimpered, head against Harry's shoulder as your fingers dug deep into his forearms that were holding your legs open for Florence. His throbbing erection leaking a river against your ass every time you squirmed in place. 

Hot breath fanned against your core. Her dainty fingers ran through your exposed folds and maybe, if you had more shame, you would have held back the pornographic moan that came from you. But you couldn't help it, they'd been absolutely teasing you relentlessly. Wanting to see how you ticked.

"Please, fuck," your hoarse voice cracked as you looked down at her. She was laid on her stomach arms crossed in front of her as she shamelessly studied you. "Flor, please."

"We're getting there." She mumbled, her fingers stopped their movements, one finger slipped into your absolutely dripping pussy. 

"Fuck." Harry breathed out as another moan fell from you. A subtle shift from his hips had another wet spot starting on your back.

"She's soaked, Harry." Florence held up her fingers that were doused in you up for him to inspect. A hum coming from him as he kissed against your neck that was littered with marks he'd left.

"Think y'can give us that answer now, pretty girl?" He smiled at your defiant 'humph', you were going to be so much fun to tease. "Come on, wanna hear y'say it. Then, yeh can get what y'want." 

You debated it for a second, your pride or your relief.

"I wanna be your girlfriend." You mumbled through nerves. Never one to be vocal during sex wasn't going to be an option with them. 

"Didn't hear yeh."

"Fuck," you groaned, face heating to blazing temperatures you didn't know existed outside of the sun. "I want to be your two's girlfriend!"

"No need to yell, baby." Florence said with a smug smile up to you. 

"You both ca--" you started to tell them both to shove off when her tongue finally, finally, ran across your swollen clit. 

You swore your eyes actually rolled back in your head.

"Told yeh we'd give yeh what you wanted." That smug smirk on his face as he watched you starting to fall apart.

Her tongue was flat and thick against your folds. Wild and untamed in it's adventures to find all the spots that made your toes curl. Her moans from your taste echoed through you.

"Holy shit," she breathed out, her mouth disconnected from you only briefly. Her thumb pressed on your clit, rubbing lightly. "Gotta taste her for yourself."

"Will after yeh finish. Don't wanna hog her all to m'self." 

You felt like you were going to explode. Here there were, casually talking about you like you weren't even there. It was so fucking hot.

Her hands grasped onto Harry's thighs as her whole face practically buried itself into your core. You'd been eaten out before, but not like this.

Her tongue switched so effortlessly between slow, thick, long, strides to quick, tight, circles on your throbbing bundle of nerve endings. She seemed to be a step away from reading your mind. Two fingers pushing into you right when you needed them the most.

"Gonna cum, pup?" Harry grunted against your skin. His eyes never left the absolutely sinful scene in front of him. Kisses pressed against your neck, your shoulder, anywhere he could reach.

"Yes, fuck, oh-" your voice carried through your small apartment. So loud, so lustful, you didn't even recognize it was yours at first. Her fingers hitting that spot inside you so perfectly, your tightening walls couldn't take it anymore. 

A release in a way you've never experienced before finally hit you. Your whole body shivered from the force of it. Eyes closed tightly, head against Harry's shoulder. It was so good it almost hurt.

When you finally started to surface from that hazy feeling of pure bliss you were being lowered onto the bed. Your legs that had been held open for so long ached and throbbed but it was so fucking worth it.

"Think y'can handle another one?" Harry smiled down to you as he hovered over the bed. Florence settling beside you, her hand over your hair to calm you down.

"Yeah." You barely breathed out, eyes connected with hers briefly. How the hell could someone look so sweet and adorable after wrecking you? 

You hummed, head leaning up to give her a kiss. Lips connected with hers as you reached for Harry's hand. His cool rings relieved the burning hot skin of your hands as you pulled him to your guys level. 

His lips replaced hers against yours. His hands taking time to explore the curves of your body, your chest. Fingers dancing against your budded nipples. Your overly sensitive body was aching for another release as you moaned into his smirking mouth. His hand kneading your flesh in brand new ways.

"Ass up, sweetheart." His cocky tone of voice had your heart beat picking right back up as you turned over onto your knees. You rested on your elbows, hand motioning for Florence to lay in front of you. Her eyes widened as she stared you down.

"Well, don't be shy." You smiled as she crawled over to you, her legs laid open on the bed as your arms wrapped around her thighs.

"Just, just, surprised this is happening." Her words stumbled out as your tongue started to explore her folds the way hers had done. Gently soft pressure against her core, hardly enough to taste her, teasing.

Payback for them taunting you in the beginning. 

Her breathing caught in her throat, her elbows barely keeping her upright when you finally got a good taste of her and fuck, was she delicious. You moaned, hands dug into her thighs as your tongue slipped into her tight hole.

You could do this the rest of your fucking life.

Harry's distraction finally broke when Florence's eyes opened again. Green eyes meeting green eyes as her hand tugged your head down harder into her core. His tongue wet his lips before his hand traveled down between your legs, fuckin' hell you were soaking almost down to your knees.

He wanted to be gentle with you, soft, loving. Show you how much he liked you but when you shifted your ass back into him. Wiggling back and forth for him, he couldn't help himself. You little temptress. His hand landed firmly on your ass and what he didn't expect was the full fledged roar of a moan that came from you. His dick twitched from the sound.

"Fuck," your voice muffled by the her silky wet cunt. Her hand lifting your head up just enough to see your eyes as Harry started to slide into your velvet cave. His hand bruising your hip as he cursed under his breath.

"Feel good, H?" Florence wore that smug smile as his lust blown eyes met hers. His snappy comments and witty attitude put at bay by your contracting walls having a hard time keeping up with his girth.

"God, sweet girl, your pussy is fuckin' tight." He thrusted a bit further into your narrow opening, your hands dug deep into Florence's legs as you whimpered. Her hands ran over your hair as she shushed you.

"Oh my g--" you choked out as he finally settled fully in you. His hands pulled the round flesh of your ass back to see where you two were connected. He pulled out only a little just to push slowly back in. His head fall to his chest as your vortex sucked him back in. "Move, please, move."

Your hips only swayed slightly before he was pounding into you. You were thankfully you had a job in front of you to do or else you would have been reaching another orgasm in mere seconds. His length hitting that spot inside of you every single time. 

You had to force yourself to concentrate, to not let your eyes roll back into your head whenever he pumped into you. Your tongue ran circles around her clit, your fingers slid into her easy. Nothing but moans filled your small apartment, your bed creaking from how hard he was thrusting into you.

You felt so sorry for your downstairs neighbors.

Her hand tightened in your hair as his hand tightened around your hip. You were pushed, pulled, tugged, manhandled, and holy fuck was it making your walls clench tighter. Your tongue was more determined than ever to make fast work of getting her off when you felt your fast approaching end over the horizon.

"Oh, oh," she moaned her hips bouncing down on your face as she fucked herself on your tongue and fingers.

"'M close." Harry grunted from behind you, his hand slapping down on your ass again.

You didn’t have the time or capacity to enjoy the stinging pain that went through your body. Tingling sensation all the way through your core when you felt the walls against your fingers start to contract. A wildly erotic moan came from her as Harry's hand reached around to rub fast pace circles on your clit.

Stars danced along your vision as your release hit you. Sloppy thrust of Harry's hips slowed down as a warmth filled you. Overrunning from your puffy, abused, pussy down your legs to the bedspread. Your body collapsed into the open arms of your now girlfriend as Harry leaned over your back.

"Why'd we wait so long to do that?" You asked once your mind cleared from the fog of your two orgasms. Laughs came from in front and behind you. Chaste kisses against whatever available skin was in their reach.

"We could always do it again, love."

#Harry Styles #Florence Pugh #Harry Styles x Reader #Florence Pugh x Reader #Harry Styles Fanfic #Florence Pugh Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Florence Pugh Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #W|W #Harry Styles x Florence Pugh #Writing #Mine #InTheMiddle #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles x Y/N #Florence Pugh x You #Florence Pugh x Y/N

[weelittleweasley]

Amnesia (final part) | Draco x Reader

BEFORE YOU READ...PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE

Prompt: After your memories come back, you and Draco can finally pick up where you left off. However, with all good things come the bad things. When memories of the painful past start to erupt, how do you and Draco move forward? Or will you?

Warnings: 18+ sexual content (bondage kink, dirty talk), panic attacks,  language, fighting (verbal), anxiety, PTSD (Please do not read if you think any of this will be triggering! Take care of yourself!)

Word count: 8.9k

A/N:  So sorry for the delay in releasing this final part. Many thanks to those you keep coming back for more. All my love! This story is not about romanticizing mental health issues. These are serious conditions and this story is not meant to romanticize or fantasize these topics. It’s used as a vessel to convey a different story. That being said, please take care of yourself and sending everyone lots of love.

Flashbacks told in italics!

Your body is nearly shaking from how hard you are holding onto Draco, arms wrapped around each other, refusing to let the other go. It isn’t until you feel the tears running down your cheeks that you realize you are crying in your tight, loving embrace. Draco strokes your hair, inhaling your scent deeply, the sense of comfort washing over his body, calming every fear he had about losing you. 

The two of you stayed in this position for what felt like forever. You would have stayed there longer if you could have. His arms felt like home. The feeling of his chest pressed against yours so firmly that you could feel his heartbeat align with yours. Slowly, Draco peeled away from your embrace so he could hold your face in his hands. His eyes were brimmed with tears before he noticed the tears streaming down your face. “Oh, no, darling,” he chuckled, kissing the tears the left your eyes. “Don’t cry. This is supposed to be a happy moment,” he tells you, peppering your cheeks in kisses as you giggle. 

Draco looks into your eyes as you blush. His gaze always made you feel shy. He still had such an effect on you even after all these years. You start to lean closer to him to press a long awaited kiss to his pink lips, but he stops you. “What? Let me kiss you,” you tell him.

“I believe I owe you a story tonight,” Draco smirks. You sigh, but can’t help but smile at him. “We can pick up right where we left off last night,” he tells you. “Then I’m all yours,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

You teasingly push his shoulder. You excitedly crawl on your bed and lay on your pillow, tapping the spot next to you for your boyfriend to lay down next to you. He sighs and shakes his head before obliging and laying next to you. You rest your head on his chest and his arm slithers around you waist and the other traces circles on your hips lazily. The gesture could honestly put you to sleep, but your excitement to be with Draco kept you wide awake. You snuggle deeper into Draco’s touch as he chuckles, “Comfy?” You nod your head and you can feel him smile into the kiss he places on the top of your head. “Alright, now where were we yesterday...ah, our first kiss.”

When you two arrive back to the common room, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment. “Thank you for tonight. I needed that,” you tell him.

“It was my pleasure. Thank you for saying yes,” Draco tells you. “I like you, (Y/N). Truly. I do.”

His words make your heart speed up. You let in a shaky breath before responding, “I like you, Draco. I do. Truly.”

That’s when he knew it was time. He smiled before leaning down and dipping his head to connect your lips. 

Draco’s lips were cold from being outside for so long, but his kiss was warm. As you kissed him back, his hands found your hips and pulled you sharply closer to him. You lightly squealed as he did so, but wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your lips harder against his. He allowed a small moan to escape his lips as you tangled your fingers in his blonde hair, tugging at his roots lightly. His large hands squeezed your hips before trailing down your lower back before taking your bum into both of his hands and squeezing it lightly. You gasp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. He tasted of cool peppermint as his tongue swirled around your mouth before teasingly bitting your glossed bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. The action was undoubtedly sexually charged and you couldn’t help but have a rush of heat to your stomach. Draco was undeniably hot. 

He attempted to pull away from the kiss, but you weren’t going to let him get away that quickly. You grab his face again and kiss him again, this time with much more urgency and desire than the previous kiss. Draco smirks into the kiss, kissing you back with just as much intensity, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him. One hand rests on your lower back and his other on the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair. He pulls on your roots, making your head lean back so he can kiss your neck, placing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck and jawline. You sigh at the contact and hold onto Draco’s shoulders as he does so. “Shit,” you breathe out as Draco starts biting and sucking on the flesh at the base of your neck. He wanted to leave a mark on you that was so big and so dark that this whole damned school could see that someone had marked their territory. If you were going to be his, Draco wanted everyone to know that you were his and his only. 

Draco’s lips part from your neck as his blue eyes stare into yours, the both of you breathless, panting to catch your breaths. In that moment, something clicked in your brain. The way that Draco looked at you made you feel vulnerable and all your guards came down so easily, but you were strangely okay with that. The boy did something to you. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you trusted him. “I’m going to make you mine, (Y/N). I swear on that,” he pants. “I don’t break my promises.”

“Alright,” you smile at him as he smirks. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As Draco finishes the story, you look up at him. “Well, I certainly am yours,” you tell him, kissing his nose as he scrunches his nose in the process. “You didn’t break that promise.”

Draco props himself up on his elbows. “I don’t break any promises, darling. It’s not in my nature to do so,” he tells you as you rolls his eyes. Draco definitely had an issue with his pride, but you were willing to look past it. “Anyway,” he grabs your hip and pulls you on top of him in one swift motion. “I think you wanted to do something earlier...would you still like to do it?” he asks, eyes glued on your chest as it is pressed against his, causing your breasts to slightly spill out of your v-neck jumper. 

You notice his gaze and place a finger under his chin and push his gaze up to your eyes. “Eyes are up here, Malfoy,” you speak as he gulps. His eyes scan your face as he bites his lip.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, (Y/L/N),” Draco speaks as he let his hands run down your back, lightly grasping your bum in his hands. “Godric, I’ve missed you.”

And with that, you press your lips against his. You couldn’t take it anymore. His lips were warm and soft and immediately responded to your lips on his. Your hand cupped his cheek as you kissed him, his arms wrapping around your figure tightly as to not let you go. Your mouths moved in synch, tongues pushing against each other, your bottom lips then being captured between his teeth as he tugged on it lightly. As you deepened the kiss, Draco sharply pulls away and digs into his pants pocked to grab his wand. 

With a swift motion, he says, “Muffliato,” whilst pointing at the door. The door clicks with a lock and Draco lets a deviously chuckle reverberate through his chest, making your want for him grow. “Can’t have any visitors now, can we?” he connects your lips again, hungry for more. 

Before you register what’s going on, Draco flips you over so he’s on top now and he pulls his black shirt over his head and onto the floor. You reach to touch his toned body, but he pins your hands over your head and pulls your jumper off in an easy motion to reveal your breasts over flowing out of your bra. His lips find yours again as his hands grope your breasts outside of the thin material of your bra as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his body impossibly closer to yours. He starts to grind his hips against yours as you groan, feeling his erection through his dress pants. “Draco,” you moan as he smiles while kissing down your neck.

He mumbles against your skin, “Tell me what you want, kitten. Use your words.”

You gulp as he continues to rub himself against you as you struggle to formulate a sentence. “I-I...shit...” you speak as he grinds against you, “I want you...please.”

“I need more detail than that, kitten,” he teases in your ear before nibbling it. “Paint me a picture,” he speaks. “I wanna hear that pretty little mouth say what that dirty mind is thinking,” he says before unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down your legs before throwing them to the floor. “Go on.”

You relish in Draco’s hands that rake up your thighs, your stomach, up to your chest before landing on your neck and then your chin, forcing your eyes on his. He wanted you to look deep into his eyes as you confessed how much you wanted him to fuck you senseless. 

As your eyes stared into his piercing blue ones, you gather up the words to say, “I want you to fuck me.” A smirk appears on his face as he urges you to go on, his hands tailing up and down your body. “I want you to take me how you want to take me,” you confess as his hands slip into your panties, you gasping. “I...I want to you have me a squirming mess, Draco. I want you...fuck,” you whisper as Draco starts to rub lazy figure eights on your clit. “I-I...I want...I-”

Draco teases you further, “You want what, kitten?” You gulp, screwing your eyes shut as he continues to rub your clit, picking up his speed before plunging one of his fingers into your wet core. You arch your back in pleasure as he starts to pump in and out of you slowly. “Tell me.” You cannot form any words, too distracted the pleasure that is building up inside of you. Draco’s thumb swirls around your clit as he inserts another finger inside of you, pumping in and out, curling inside of you, hitting your g-spot as you moan loudly. “Tell me what you want, baby, or I’ll stop.” You still don’t speak as Draco continues to pleasure you. But then he abruptly stops, making you whine. He grabs your jaw and forces you to watch him. “Did I stutter? I said to tell me what you want. Only good girls get what they want.”

You gulp as watch him stick his fingers in his mouth as it drips with your juices, tasting you on his tongue. The sight was enough to make you cum. You inhale deeply, you rest rising and falling before speaking, “I want you to take me how you want me. I want you to make me beg for your cock.”

His mouth turns into a mischievous grin before his fingers are inside you again as you moan. “As you wish,” he whispers huskily in your ear. His thumb is on your clit again, harder and faster, making your mind reel with pleasure. “You want me to fuck that tight pussy of yours, huh? You want my cock inside you?” he pushes you closer to the edge with his fingers and his words. 

You nod feverishly, “Please.”

Draco is pumping in and out of you hard, his thumb sloppily drawing circles on your clit, making you claw at his back, digging your nails into his flesh. Your toes curl in pleasure. “Yeah? You like that? You want me balls deep in you don’t you? You want me to fuck you senseless, kitten? You want me to fuck you like a good girl?” he growls in your ears as you moan out loudly.

You’re inches away from finishing before Draco stops what he was doing again, making you groan in annoyance. You look at him with an annoyed expression on your face as he undoes his belt. Before you can ask him what’s he’s doing, he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. Then taking his black leather belt, he ties your wrists together and then ties it to your bed’s headboard. A takes a good look at you tied up underneath him and he smiles devilishly at the sight. “This is how I want to take you tonight,” he growls as you wetness grows. 

He pulls his trousers down along with his boxers. His cock is rock hard for you as it hits his stomach. You gulp, you almost forgot how large he was. Draco rolls a rubber on his length and pumps himself a few times before lining himself up to your entrance, but not pushing himself inside of you. “Dray, please,” you whine.

“You said you wanted to beg, so I’m going to make you beg,” he grabs your chin. Draco teases you, pushing his tip in between your folds, up and down as you arch your back. “I said beg,” he demands.

“Please, fuck me, Draco, I need you so badly, please,” you beg, your eyes pleading him as he continues to tease you. He wanted to basically squirming, writhing, and yelling underneath him. And he hadn’t even put himself inside you.  “I need your cock inside my tight little pussy. I’m so wet for you, baby. Please I want you to fuck me so good like you always do,” you try to reach for him, but the belt restrains you from touching him. 

Draco chuckles as you squirm under him. He knew how badly you wanted him, needed him. But he wanted to see how long he could get away with it. Slowly, he pushed his tip inside of you as you groaned out. Draco bit back a moan, needing to refrain from pushing the rest of his length into your wet pussy. “You want more? I want you to scream for me, kitten. Fucking beg for my cock,” he growl.

Your mind is reeling and you can’t get over how your heat is throbbing for him. “Draco, fuck me, already won’t you?” you yell. “I can’t take it anymore I need your cock railing into me so hard that I see stars!”

And that’s all it takes for him to pound the rest of his length into you. You gasp at the action as Draco groans. He gives you little time to adjust to his size as you squeeze your eyes shut, the action a little painful at first. “Take it,” he groans. “If it hurts, good. I want you to take my whole cock into that tight pussy.”

His words just feed your wetness as you moan out. You loved when he talked like this; demanding and dominating. It was hot. “Yes, like that, baby,” you moan out as he pounds in and out of you.

“Oh, you like that? You like it when I’m pounding into you?” he urges you as you are a moaning mess underneath him. Your eyes are screwed shut and head tossed back in pleasure. “You like that, you dirty little slut? You’re such a slut for me, I fucking love it,” he groans into you as he firmly grabs your hips, his hips pushing in and out of your core, his dick covering in your wetness. “Who do you belong to?” he groans.

You moan, “You, Draco. I belong to you. I’m all yours, baby.”

The words combined with your walls clenching around his hard cock send Draco over the moon. The two of you are in states of euphoria as he pounds in and out of you. Draco takes one of your breasts in his hands before ducking his head down, licking, biting, and sucking on your nipple before moving to the next one. You see stars, your toes curling up, walls tightening around Draco. You were so close. 

“Dray, I’m gonna fucking come,” you breathe out as he continues to pound into you.

He presses a firm kiss to your lips before dragging his thumb across your clit again, making you cry out in pleasure. “You come when I tell you to,” he growls. He continues to circle your clit, his hard cock rocking in and out. “You wanna come for me, my little slut?” he speaks as you nod. “Yeah?” he keeps fucking you as you cry out his name, your body shaking. You couldn’t hold it any long. “Come all over my dick,” he says and you immediately release all over him. Draco finishes right after you, continuing to pump, riding out both of your highs.

Draco collapses next to you on the bed, the both of you sweaty, panting messes. Your eyes are still screwed shut as you catch your breath. Draco literally made you see stars. Your pussy was sore as ever, but Merlin was it worth it. Draco grabs a tissue from your nightstand and rolls the condom off and into the trash. He looks over at you and smiles before freeing you from the make shift handcuffs. 

You rub your wrists that now have marks on them from how tight that belt was around them. You weren’t complaining. It was hot. “Merlin, Draco,” you pant, sitting up. 

He chuckles, “I missed that.” He presses a kiss to your lips gently before going into your pajama drawer and pulling out a t-shirt that he had given you a while ago. You smile and happily toss it on as Draco pulls on his boxers. He climbs into the bed next to you and pulls the sheets over you. “I’m so glad that things are somewhat back to normal now,” he confesses, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you wrap your arms around him.

“I am, too, love,” you tell him. “I can’t imagine life without you,” you confess to him.

Draco looks at you, “You’re my world, darling. I love you.”

“I love you, Draco,” you smile back.

---------------------

A month has passed since the night you regained your memory and you and Draco reunited again. Since then, every thing has been smooth sailing. You moved out of your parents and you and Draco moved into a flat in London right outside of the city like you two had planned before the war. Draco wanted to get away from magic, from Hogwarts, from everything. He just needed to take a breather from it all before he came back to it again. 

In the meantime, you two have been taking on muggle jobs to support yourselves and at night, Draco studies to become a healer. He had made this decision when you had decided to move in together. Draco wanted to be able to help people in order to make up for all the pain that he caused people in the past. Although the gesture was so thoughtful and kind, you couldn’t help but feel sad when Draco told you. He had been through so much over the course of the past five years. His parents, the Dark Lord, the torture emotionally, mentally, and physically...and yet he still wanted to help people. 

You were happier than ever to quite honest. You were with the person you loved, you were able to support yourself, you had a great support system. Things were great. The one thing was that you were still suffering from the brain injury. Your memory was fully restored, but sometimes you would get vivid flashbacks that would disturb your day to day life. It would happen anywhere, at home, at work, at night when you were trying to sleep. Some of the flashbacks were happy, some random, others were frightening. A lot of them were flashbacks of the day of your injury.

You would be fast asleep and that’s when they came, interrupting your sweet dreams. 

“Draco!” you scream with every last fiber in your body. You launch yourself into a run down the stairs and towards the bridge. You push people out of your way in a beeline for your love, hoping that he’ll stop for you, but he doesn’t. His parents keep an iron grip on him, pulling him along the bridge. Draco turns around, seeing you run as he tries to writhe out of his mother’s grip. His face is full of concern, but he can’t escape. His father puts his body in front of Draco’s as Draco screams out in pain and fury. “Draco!” you yell.

Your feet carry you as fast as possible as you run toward the bridge, trying to get to him as quickly as possible before it was too late. Draco claws at his father, trying to get past him. As you run you feel your breath becoming short and your lungs burn, but you ignore the sensation and push. You need to get to him. He needed to get to you. You needed to save each other.

But that all came to a screeching halt when you name being yelled out in horror by Draco. “(Y/N), watch out!” someone screams a blood curdling scream as you look up to see a large rock come crashing down.

You woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, sitting straight up in bed. But Draco would always be by your side, holding you tightly, stroking your hair, gentle kisses on the head, followed with a few “I’m here,” “I’m not going anywhere, darling,” “It’s all over,” “No one is going to hurt you.” Eventually you would fall back asleep in his embrace, but the fear that the nightmare would come back would always haunt you. It was often that you had nights like these, but it was comforting to know that Draco was there for you. 

As you stood in the kitchen, putting dishes in the dishwasher and Draco cleaned the table with a rag, you happily hummed. You closed the dishwasher and ran the sink to start cleaning the pots. But before you could start, you ears started to ring and you felt lightheaded. You knew what was coming, even though you didn’t want to. A vivid flashback came to the front of your memory.

You stood in Draco’s dormitory, your lungs burning and face hot from crying. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, the walls were coming in around you. It was a panic attack and a bad one at that. Normally you would seek comfort in Draco, but you wanted nothing to do with him right now. “Don’t come near me,” you hyperventilate, walking to the opposite side of the room. “How can you fucking do something like that to me and then want to comfort me like nothing happened? That’s so...so...manipulative!” you scream at him.

Draco’s once concerned face twisted into anger. “Don’t use that word when it comes to me, (Y/N), you know damn well I am not like that!” he yells back at you. “I told you that nothing happened between us. She initiated things.”

The two of you were in your monthly screaming match. People knew that you and Draco loved each other something fierce, but when you fought, it was ugly. No one wanted to witness it. The topic of this screaming match? Pansy Parkinson. What had happened was you came into the Slytherin common room after a long night of studying for your OWLs in the library when you spotted your love and Pansy sitting on the couch. Well, Draco sat on the couch while Pansy found herself comfortably sitting in Draco’s lap, pushing his blonde hair out of his eyes. You went batshit on Pansy in front of the common room, but save Draco the embarrassment and decided that you twos screaming match would be in private. Draco insisted that nothing happened. He was sitting on the couch when she came over and sat in his lap and started to flirt with him. 

“Nothing may have happened, Draco, but the thing is you didn’t even think to stop it. You are always too busy thinking about yourself and what you want! What about me? Do you ever think of me and what I want?” you ask him, tears rolling down your cheeks as he just stands, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He looked unbothered which just made your blood boil. “Do you have anything to say for yourself? An apology?”

Draco sighs, “Sure. I’m sorry that you never believe me. I’m sorry that you don’t think I’m unwavering in my loyalty to you.”

You laugh, “You’re a real prick, Malfoy. You know that? You are just like your family. Cold, rude, and heartless.” You start to make your way to the door, but Draco blocks the door. “Move.”

He doesn’t move. “How come you can’t trust me?” You scoff. “I’m serious. You don’t trust me at all.”

“No, Draco, I do trust you. I trust you too much. That’s the problem,” you confess before pushing him out of your way and leaving his room.

You come back to your senses and see Draco staring at you. “Flashback?” he asks as you nod your head. “You alright? You wanna talk about it?” he rubs your back, and his touch makes you flinch after that memory. “What happened?”

You close your eyes for a moment and shake your head, exhaling. “Um,” you start, “Yeah, um...it was a memory of a fight...of us. We were yelling at each other in your dorm.”

Draco shakes his head, “What were we yelling about? Something silly I imagine.” His attempts to crack a joke weren’t working and he noticed how uncomfortable you. “Do you need me to leave you alone for a moment?” 

“No,” you jump. “No, darling, it’s okay, I’m fine. I need to just...talk through it. Think about it before I carry on...” Draco shakes his head. “We were arguing about Pansy Parkinson and how I um...that night when I walked in on her sitting on your lab in the common room and I flipped.” Draco nods his head. He was familiar with the memory. You had given him the silent treatment for two weeks as a consequence until he send you eight dozen red roses to your bed and a heartfelt apology. “We fought a lot...” you trail off.

Draco starts to dry dishes, “All couples fight, love.”

Sighing, you say, “That’s not what I meant. We fought a lot, Dray. I keep getting flashbacks of our fights recently. I haven’t gotten flashbacks of the same one. They’re all different fights. And they’re all bad...What did people think of us?” Draco chuckled. “I’m serious, Draco. Our fights were never about silly things. It’s all been scary and serious. We fought about you and the dark mark, we fought about infidelity, we fought about you not liking my relationship with Ron-”

“Don’t bring Weasle-bee into this,” he stops you which earns him a glare. 

“Don’t call him that, Draco. Ron is and will always be my best friend. You bullied them at Hogwarts, even when we were together, you never stopped. Which, now that I think of it, is a shit thing to do. I mean, I told you to stop. Even though I was never fond of your friends, I never was rude or short with them. I was respectful,” you retort. Draco stays silent. “Hello? Earth to Malfoy?” 

Draco looks at you. “I’m listening.”

You shake your head, “Okay, but you’re not responding. I don’t appreciate you ignoring me when I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”

“Don’t pick a fight when there doesn’t need to be one, (Y/N). It’s childish,” Draco puts away dishes. 

You scoff. “Childish?! Childish is ignoring your girlfriend when she’s trying to have an adult conversation with you about your relationship!” 

He walks out of the kitchen and into the living room whilst speaking, “We aren’t having a conversation about our relationship, (Y/N). We are having a conversation about Ronald Weasel-bee which I would rather not talk about with you!” 

You follow him into the living room, not ready to end this conversation. You were just getting started. “The relationship that I seem to have with Ron Weasley,” you correct him, “seems to be affecting our relationship. Which I never thought it would or did, but apparently I stand corrected.”

Draco plops on the couch with a huff. “Come on, (Y/N), I have eyes. I’ve seen the way Ron looks at you and how you two act together. Everyone had their bets on you and him being a couple before he and Hermione got together. For Merlin’s sake, Zabini was convinced you were going to break up with me in sixth year so you could get together with Ronald after he and Lavender Brown had broken up!”

This was news to you. So Draco’s friends questioned your loyalty to him? “Ron is like family to me. There is nothing between us and nothing will ever be,” you tell him. You had no intention of telling him about what happened at the Burrow and your bubbling feelings for Ron a month and half ago. “Why you are still carrying on about this is beyond me. Not to mention, all of my friends thought you were going to break up with me in sixth year so you could hook up with Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass! Let’s not forget about the time at that Slytherin common room party where you had too much fire whisky and you had the audacity to ask me if I would be down for a threesome with Pansy and she was standing behind you holding your hand!” 

Fury starts to pound through your blood as Draco gives a chaste wave of his hand. “Oh, please, (Y/N), that’s different. I got way to drunk that night and you know that was taken out of context. You know Pansy was always up my ass at Hogwarts no matter how many times I told her I wasn’t interested,” he dismissed, now walking into your shared bedroom.

You angrily groan. “That’s not the point I’m making, Draco. It doesn’t make you a great person just because you stayed loyal to me! That’s the bare fucking minimum.”

“Have I been a shitty boyfriend then, (Y/N)? Huh? Is that what you’re trying to get at? That I’ve been a bad partner?” you can hear the anger rising in his voice. You knew that he would start screaming soon, but you were ready to test the waters. 

You sigh, “That’s not what I’m saying, Draco.”

“Then what exactly are you saying?” he says curtly as you furrow your brows and look at him in shock. He rubs his face. “I’m going to take a shower. I just need time by myself to think. Can you do that? Can you leave me alone for more than ten minutes?”

Before you can answer, he disappears into the bathroom with a slam of the door. Draco has never behaved like this before. He usually liked to talk, rather scream, things out before storming away. Storming away was more your thing. Now this was a role reversal. 

You hear the shower start and you sigh. You sit at your vanity and braid your hair for bed and change into a long t-shirt and sleep shorts. Hopefully, you and Draco could talk before going to bed. 

The shower was still running ten minutes later after it first turned on. You sighed and climbed into your shared bed and sat a thought about what to say when he came out of the bathroom. Should you apologize? No, he was overreacting. Should you offer to talk it out? How should you approach him and his hot temper?

Before you can think further, the bathroom door opens to reveal a freshly showered Draco in his boxers. He starts out of the bathroom and heads for the door. “Where are you going?” you ask him. 

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” he speaks.

“Please don’t,” you sigh. “Stay with me. I don’t care if we’re fighting, I still want you next to me.”

Draco stops for a moment and with a sigh, comes back to the bed. You softly smile, but he doesn’t reciprocate one back. He climbs into the bed and even though you didn’t expect a cuddle from him, you wanted one so badly just to know that this fight wouldn’t last forever. But he just turned his back to you and turned off his light, signaling he was done for the night.

With a huff, you turn off your light and lay back on your pillow. You stare at the ceiling, mind rushing with a million thoughts, but you don’t pay any mind to any of them. You are too focused on you and Draco both going to bed angry. In your mind, you knew that going to bed angry was never good and you knew that you both should go to bed somewhat content in order to approach tomorrow with new clarity.

An idea pops into your mind as you slowly sit up and grab Draco’s arm gently and pull him towards you so now he’s on his back. “What, (Y/N),” he states more than asks.

You lean down and kiss him deeply, tongue sliding into his mouth. He hesitantly kisses you back as you straddle his lap. He sits up to kiss you deeper as you tangle your fingers in his hair and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. Even though you two were pissed at each other, that didn’t mean you were physically repulsed by the other. 

Slowly, you start to rub yourself against his lap as he groans. You smirk into the kiss and continue to rub against him as you feel his hardening length in his boxers. Draco lets out another strained groan as you start to kiss his neck as he let out a sigh as you leave wet kisses down his neck.

As you go to pull off your shirt, Draco stops you. “No, no, no,” Draco says. “I don’t think we should have sex tonight. I...Yeah, I just need time to think for the night.”

A little embarrassed you climb off of your boyfriend’s lap and back onto your side of the bed. Draco remains sitting up and rubs his face before turning his back to you again and attempting to fall asleep. 

Was he really that upset? Or was he upset with himself? What was going on? Did he not find you attractive anymore? 

Rather than entertain these thoughts, you decided it was best to just force yourself to sleep. That night you didn’t have any nightmares, or dreams. You just felt lonely.

------------

Morning came quickly and you turned to Draco’s side of the bed just to find it empty. Your thoughts were confirmed when you hear the coffee machine brewing in the kitchen and the clattering of the dishwasher being unstacked. 

You sit up and rub your eyes. How should you start this conversation with Draco? You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen because it most definitely did. He some accusations about you and Ron and not to mention avoided the whole conversation about him and Pansy. 

Climbing out of your bed, you leave the bedroom and head into the kitchen. “Good morning,” you speak, looking at Draco who wore his boxers and what looked like an old Slytherin jumper.

He looks at you and gives a quick, “Morning.” He continues to unstack the dishwasher as you stand in front of him. “Coffee on the counter for you,” he gestures to the mug full of coffee and a splash of cream like you liked it. 

You mumble a thanks and sip on the coffee your boyfriend made you. He continues to tidy up as you stand and sip; the both of you still silent. Neither of you knew how to start this conversation. 

After about an awkward five minutes in silence, Draco decides to speak first. “We should talk about last night,” he starts and you give a knowing smile and nod as he offers a soft smile. “To be honest, I think we should just move on from it. The past is in the past and we changed. We’re back and we’re better than we were before. I love you, I’m happy with you, and no one can change that.” He smiles at you as you give him a soft smile. Draco walks to you and places a gentle kiss on your lips. “Alright?”

You stand there thinking about what he said. However, in that little speech, you didn’t agree. You shouldn’t just move on, you need to work through what happened, not to mention how he essentially gaslit you at one point. Not to mention, there was no apology with how short he was with you. “Um,” you start. “I don’t think we should just move on, darling. I agree I want to get over it just as badly as you, but we should at least talk about what was said.”

Draco rolls his eyes, “But can’t we just agree what we both said was stupid and unnecessary? We don’t need to dwell on the past.”

You gently untangle yourself from Draco’s grip. “I don’t think any of what I said or you said was stupid. I think it’s important we explain to each other why we said what we said. In case you forgot, I’m still remembering bits and pieces from the past, so talking about it helps me.”

And that’s when Draco snaps. “Well in case you forgot, the past has been nothing, but traumatic for me so I’d rather not keep remembering it and move on with my life. Merlin, and you think I’m self-absorbed?”

His words send a shock wave through you. “That was uncalled for,” you laugh. Draco just groans and leaves the kitchen. “Draco, you know that I’m so sorry for everything that your parents forced you into over the past couple of years. But we can’t pretend like your past or my past didn’t happen. We’ve grown up. We can move on like adults. We can’t just pretend like all of those horrible things didn’t happen,” you try to reason with him. “The past shapes us.”

Draco shakes his head, “It’s easier said than done, (Y/N)! About our past, I never cheated on you and I never meant to hurt you when I did. But I would rather focus on our relationship now than what it used to be.”

“We can’t move on if we don’t learn from our mistakes of what we used to be!” you exclaim. “That’s why we need to talk about it!”

Now, he’s getting frustrated and it’s evident in how his face contorts. “I’m not having this conversation right now, (Y/N).”

“Oh, so you’re gonna pretend this conversation isn’t happening, huh? What else? We’re gonna pretend like that night with you and Pansy didn’t happen? We’re gonna pretend like you didn’t make my best friends’ lives miserable at Hogwarts? We’re gonna pretend like I didn’t ask you to stop after years of begging you?” you knew you were pushing his buttons. What you were doing was wrong, but you needed him to talk to you about this.

Draco is furious now. He looks at you angrily and says, “Oh okay! We’re gonna pretend like Weasley didn’t want to fuck you all those years at Hogwarts? We’re gonna pretend he doesn’t hate me because I’m in love with you? We’re gonna pretend like I didn’t protect you from everything I could?” he yells at you.

You are as pissed as Draco now. “What is your obsession with Ron and I’s friendship?” you pull at your hair. 

“The guy is a bloody fucking prick! He never liked me and never wanted you to date me! Admit it! He’s warned you about me before and told you all these awful things about me? Like how I can’t be trusted?” Draco asks. You heart sinks a little, knowing that Ron did and has done that in the past. But you knew it was because Ron was scared of you getting hurt, not about him being in love with you. Ron was in love with Hermione and everyone knew that. 

“That’s because Ron has always cared about me! Ever since we came to Hogwarts, he cared about me! You only started caring about me when I suddenly became ‘hot’ to you. You only started caring about me when it was convenient for you!” you accused him. 

That’s what stung Draco the most. The accusation that he never cared about you and he only cared about your looks. Draco had always cared about you even when you weren’t dating. Before he even said anything romantic to you, Draco always watched you from across the room. Watching you smile, crinkling your nose, throwing your head back in laughter. He cared about you when you looked stressed in the library, tugging at the roots of your hair. He cared about you when he saw you run down the hall, wiping tears from your eyes as Hermione followed you close behind. Draco cared about you. Always. Draco loved you even when he didn’t know it.

But instead of telling you that, he let his temper get the best of him. “Then how about you go fuck Ron?” he screams. “Since he cares so much about him, go song him, why don’t you?” 

And that’s when you did it. You let go of every fear you had about Draco finding out what happened between you and Ron. You stopped thinking and just said it. “Guess what? I already did!”

That’s when Draco’s face dropped. Disbelief crossed his face and his heart sank to his ass. HIs face turned sheet white like he had seen a ghost. It felt like he just got slapped across the face. “What?”

“I kissed Ron! The night I got back from the hospital and spent it at the Burrow? I kissed Ron!” It was like you were vomiting the words, you couldn’t stop no matter that your mind was screaming to stop it. “Right after I got your letter, I kissed him!”

That’s what sent Draco over the edge. How could you? “You kissed him...while I was trying to get you to remember our relationship?” he asks in disbelief.

The gravity of the situation slaps you in the face as your eyes widen. What have you done? “Draco, I-”

“I don’t know if I can hear anything else,” he shakes his head.

“No! Draco please listen,” you grab his hands as he looks at you pained. You just broke this boy in front of you. “I was so confused after the accident and I was getting my feelings for you confused with the feelings I had for Ron...I can’t explain it, but I know that I love you. It’s not Ron. It never has been and it never will be! I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry. Please Draco you have to know that I love you and you’re the only one for me,” you start to get choked up as you see Draco start to cry in front of you. “It’s always been you, Dray.”

You hug Draco tight as you both cry in the others arms. You both had made mistakes in the past with him and Pansy, you and Ron, the lying, the fighting, everything. You were both at fault. 

The two of you stood there in the middle of your living room, crying in each others arms about how fucked this whole thing was. Your relationship had gone through the wringer. You went through Umbridge, when he got his dark mark, the war, and an amnesia spell. Needless to say, you two’s love for each other has been put to the test multiple times. You were bound to crack at one point. And this was the breaking point. 

You pull away and look at each other. You both know what needs to happen, but neither of you want to say it. Draco takes a shaky breath in. “I don’t want you to leave, but I know you need to. We need to,” he speaks. 

You nod and wipe your eyes. “I know. We owe it to ourselves,” you rub his cheek. “I love you, Draco. Always and forever.”

“I love you, (Y/N). Always and forever. And that’s a promise. You know I don’t break those,” he tells you and that’s when you heart shatters. 

But it had to be done.

-----------------

You slowly walked up the rock path, bags in your hands as you sigh. You didn’t think you would be back at this place at this time, but here you were. You gently knock on the door and the door flings open to reveal George Weasley. “(Y/N)? I didn’t know you were coming over,” he smiles at you, but he notices your red eyes and tear stained cheeks. “Darling, what’s wrong?” he grabs your shoulders. “Come here,” he pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Look whose here,” George says as you walk in and he takes your bags.

On the couch, there sits Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. It was like they were expecting you. The sight of your close friends makes your heart swell and the tears start to brim your eyes. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Hermione rushes to you and embraces you in the tightest hug. “What happened?”

Ron grabs your hands and gives them a squeeze. “Are you alright? Do you need anything? Mum!” Ron calls, frantically as Ginny runs to find Molly Weasley. She would know what to do. 

“I’m fine everyone. Please. I’m fine,” you offer them a sad smile. “Um, Draco and I ended things. We realized neither of us are okay to be in a relationship right now,” you shrug as Hermione squeezes your hand. She could understand where you are coming from. “I decided to leave and let him stay in the flat. I just needed to get out and be with other people...You can say it, Ron. You told me so.”

Ron lets out a weak laugh, “I’m not gonna say that, (Y/N). I’m proud of you two though for leaving the relationship before it got ugly for the both of you.” You offer him a weak smile.  

You felt awkward standing there, luggage in the doorway, tear stained cheeks at the Burrow rather than going to your own home. You just knew you needed the comfort of your friends before going back to living with your parents after moving out. 

Before you knew it, Molly Weasley was in front of you. “Oh, poor girl. Come with me. Let me make you some tea. Ron, grab (Y/N) a blanket. Ginny, dear, go get the sandwiches from the fridge. We’ll get some good food in you, yeah?” she wraps an arm around you, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. 

In this moment, you felt your anxiety melt away and the sensation of comfort and warmth flooded your chest. The Weasleys always knew how to cheer you up. You knew just a few hours with the Weasleys would help soothe you and your broken heart. 

As you sit at the table with Ron and Hermione, you sip on a hot tea Molly made you and ham and cheese sandwiches. The three of you all made light chatter about what they’ve been up to during the past month. Ron and Hermione talk about how much more time they’ve been spending together and how they were thinking about moving into their own place. As they cuddled close in the chair, your heart warmed seeing your two best friends find love with each other. They both deserved every happiness in the world. But in all honesty, their love made you feel a sad and just reminded you of how painful this breakup was. 

Hermione notices your change in expression and she gives you a sad smile. “(Y/N),” she looks at you and then at Rod who takes a breath in. “Ron told me about...the night you spent here before you got back with Draco. About the kiss.” Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak. “There’s no need to explain yourself. Ron told me everything and I although it hurt at first, I understand your position. I’m not mad at you. I just want you to know that I’m not worried or angry.”

“’Mione,” you speak. “I’m still so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

She shakes her head. “Thank you and I understand. But I think it’s best for all of us to just move on.”

You nod and sip your tea as an awkward air lingers. Hermione breaks the silence again and says, “Besides that, just know that we are here for you, always. You’re our best friend. We’ll be here every step of the way.”

“Thank you,” you offer them both a smile.

“There’s a muggle saying,” Hermione speaks. “If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they’re yours; if they don’t they never were.”

You giver her a small smile. “Thanks, ‘Mione.”

And she was right. Maybe this wasn’t perfect timing with Draco. Maybe you two weren’t ready to start a relationship again. Maybe you needed more time. Or maybe you two weren’t meant to be. But whatever happened you knew you had you friends and family to help you along the way.

------------

Six months had passed since the breakup and you had to admit that you were feeling so much better. You were living at home again with your parents, but working as an Auror now, making your own money and doing what you love alongside Ron. You had accepted your relationship with Draco and decided it was best to give him space. Even though the first few months were rough without him, you made it through better than ever.

So there you sat in St. Mungo’s, waiting for a Healer after hurting yourself on the job. It was a funny feeling being in the same hospital as you were seven and a half months ago after your head injury. You sat in the room, as the Healer’s assistant tells you, “The Healer should be in with you soon.”

You patiently wait around for the Healer, swinging your legs on the hospital chair until the door swings open. “Hello there, my name is Healer Malfoy, what seems to be the,” his eyes land on you, “problem.”

In front of you stood Draco, dressed neatly in black trousers, a button down, and tie with lime green robes on, the Healer crest neatly sewn on his chest. His hair was combed back and he had a little scruff on his face. He looked handsome. Grown up. “Draco,” you smile.

“Hi, (Y/N),” he smiles back brightly. “Um, lovely to see you again. It’s been a long time.” You nod, “Yeah, I know. I-I didn’t know you became a healer.”

He smiles wide, “Yeah. I started working here about five months ago. It’s been great so far. I really love the job.” You smile wide, knowing that Draco did it. He had wanted to be a Healer for so long and now he was finally doing it. You were so proud of him. The two of you just look at each other for a few moments, taking in the other, realizing how long it has been and how much you missed the other. “Um, anyway, what can I help you with?”

“Yeah, um, I hurt my ankle running. I think I just twisted it,” you pull up your jeans to show him.

Draco grabs a stool and inspects, pressing on your ankle to see if there was any excess pain, swelling, or bruising. Although it was quite quick, you smiled watching him do his job. You could tell he loved his job more than anything.

“Here’s some pain potion. I’ll also tell the assistant to bring you out some more to help with the swelling and bruising,” Draco tells you as you thank him. “Well, it was really nice to see you, (Y/N). It’s...being a while...”

You sigh, “It was nice to see you too, Dray...” 

The two of you look at each other, longingly gazing at the other, so badly wanted to embrace the other. “I miss you,” Draco confesses.

“I miss you,” you repeat back. Draco gives you a sad smile. The two of you look at each other more, not saying anything else. What was there to say? You clear your throat, “I should go.”

Draco stops you, “Wait, (Y/N).” You turn around and see Draco nervously put his hands in his pockets. “I, um...would you...would you like to get dinner with me...sometime?” You bit down on your lip to conceal your smile. “If not, that’s fine, I understand. I just, um, thought I’d try...you look great.”

You lightly laugh and stop him, “I’d like to get dinner with you, Draco.”

“Great,” he beams. “Brilliant. I’ll be in touch then,” he blushes.

-------

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[maybebanks]

Special Treatment

JJ Maybank x Y/N

You and JJ get busted and are forced to spend the night in jail. Only Y/n gets some much resented special treatment. Leaving JJ jealous.

“I can’t believe we got caught. I’m gonna be in so much shit for this,” JJ muttered, raking a hand through his messy blonde hair.

You felt very guilty, if it wasn’t for you, JJ wouldn’t have gotten caught trespassing. He was a faster runner than you, and you had tripped, resulting in a pathetic injury.

“Hey, are you good? I know you have that ‘3 strikes’ thing going on with Peterkin..and - oh shit Y/n! Your leg is bleeding,” JJ said, moving you to sit down so he could get a better look.

“It’s fine,” you protested, “and don’t worry about me. You have your dad to worry about,” you mentioned.

JJ frowned, “don’t remind me,”

You were familiar with this cell, though it was way better when shared with JJ. You were here just yesterday, busted for shop lifting.

It was clear you were rebelling. And JJ wanted to know why.

He was intrigued.

“When we get outta here...can we go separately?” you said softly.

“Why? I was hoping we could grab food at the Wreck...please...” he trailed off, grabbing both of your hands and trapping them in his.

“No...I mean..you know I get scared of your dad. And besides, my mom wants me home,” you admitted.

JJ frowned, “yeah. I know. You get all..shakey,” he shrugs.

“I do not!” You blurted, pushing one of his shoulders.

“Yes you do, you’re hands are like this,” JJ told you, then put his hand out and started moving his wrist to shake his hand at a fast speed.

“Oh fuck you,” you groaned.

“Sure I’m down,” JJ joked.

“What?” You gave him a dirty look.

“You know,” he smirked, then he leaned over to you and started rubbing your shoulders, “you like that? Uhhh!” He moaned.

“Shut up!! You dumbass! They’re gonna hear!!” You scolded him, shoving him off of you.

“Yeah and what would they think? You more of a handjob or a blowjob kinda girl?” he joked.

“Oh my god...okay you need to..to chill with the horny boy act, got it? I know you’re just trying to get at me..but I’m not in the mood,” you sighed. Standing up and walking towards the edge of the bars.

“I see blushing,” JJ pointed out, pointing to his own cheeks.

You rolled your eyes, looking the other way.

JJ raised his hands in defense, “I didn’t mean to offend you. Just wanted to lighten the mood. Maybe get this tension under wraps,”

“There is no tension.” You stated.

“There is with you. You’re super tense,” JJ added.

“I just...I have a lot going on,” you shrugged.

“Wanna..” JJ paused, kicking his feet against the concrete, “..talk about it?”

“No thanks...” you sighed, returning to sit next to him again.

“Whatever it is,” JJ placed a comforting hand on your thigh, “I’m sure you can handle it.” He said. He knew you weren’t going to tell him, so he decided to give you confidence.

You stared at his large hand on your thigh, his rings shining from the light through the windows.

You smiled softly. And he returned it.

Before he could say some dirty one liner, the cell door opened.

You and JJ stood up.

“Y/n, let’s go.” The officer directed. He wasn’t the usual one who dealt with the jail people, he was a patrol officer. He has blonde, short hair he was tall, and looked about 30-40 years old.

“But..what about-“ You began.

“Just you.” He stated, looking into your eyes.

You looked back at JJ, he just shrugged.

So you followed the police officer out of the cell, and waved goodbye to JJ.

The officers hand met your lower back as you walked with him through the station. He nodded at a few cops at desks, no one seemed to question him as he walked you out the front door.

As an excuse to get him to stop touching you, you turned around, asking him a question, “excuse me. What’s..what’s going on?” You asked nervously.

“How about I give you a ride home,” he suggested, pointing to a small cop car.

“My friend...in there, I can’t just leave him,” you said.

“Maybank kid. Yeah I saw his record. For some reason, Peterkin always looks the other way, something to pity, I’d assume,” the Officer explains.

You sighed, knowing exactly what he was talking about, JJs dad.

“I can..um I can walk home, thanks,” you told him, walking around him.

He grabbed your wrist gently, “if I hadn’t done what I did, you’d be spending your night in that cell. Let me give you a ride home,” he almost ordered.

You bit the inside of your lip, but he was a cop, what was he gonna do? Kill you. Please. You shouldn’t be afraid of him.

You nodded, and he smiled, directing you to his car.

You attempted to get in the back seat, but he scolded you, and told you that you should sit in the front.

He drove you home, and parked in your driveway.

“I’ll walk you inside, make sure everything’s okay,” he said.

“Sir, I’m alright, it’s like 20 feet away,” you said, but he ignored you.

When you got to the front door, you knocked, him by your side.

Your mother answered, shocked, and quite unhappy at the sight.

“What did she do?” Your mother sighed, you looked at the floor.

“Ma’am, I’m officer Darren Wilden, we’ve met before, I was just escorting your daughter from the jail cell. Would’ve spent the night there, if I hadn’t got her out of there,” he told her.

You groaned.

Stepping up and heading inside, past your mom. She would have surly yelled at you, but she was now distracted by the officer.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.

Retiring to your room was not a great as you thought, you could hear your mother laugh at Officer Wildens stupid jokes, she even made dinner for him. So you put in headphones, falling asleep to your favorite playlist.

You woke up at your usual time, to spend the Saturday with the pogues. Excited, you headed downstairs for breakfast, still in your pajamas. You missed dinner last night, and were craving a muffin or something.

You entered the kitchen in slow steps, hearing someone cooking bacon or something. Your mom never cooks.

“Mom?” You asked, but your question was quickly answered.

Wilden was standing in your kitchen, shirtless, a white towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh my gosh,” you blinked in shock. What hell was this?

“Good morning. Want any eggs?” He said nonchalantly. Standing near the fridge.

You scoffed. Walking around him, “no thanks,”

A few seconds later, your mother walked in.

She studdered, “uh Darren, why don’t you head upstairs, I’ll take care of breakfast,”

He nodded, “yeah sure,” and left the kitchen.

“What does he live here now?” You said sarcastically to your mom.

“Give me a break, honey....” your mother sighed.

“Yeah..whatever. I’m going to John B’s,” you said bluntly, then hastily left the house.

Once joining the group, you were basically silent the whole time.

“So! Y/n, how was jail?” Kie asked, smiling.

“How..how did you know?” You asked, “JJ you literally suck at keeping ur mouth shut,”

“What?!” He laughed, “I used to be brag about corrupting the good girl. But now your a convict just like me,” JJ shrugged, implying that you shouldn’t care.

Truly you just didn’t want to be traced back to Wilden, you hated that connection you now had. Could it even turn into blackmail? It just made you sick.

“Did you know JJ was in that cell for 24 hours longer than y/n! That’s some sexism right there,” John B mentioned.

“Don’t joke about that, dude,” Pope scolded.

“What? It’s true.” He defended.

“Wait...JJ, your dad didn’t show up to-“ you were surprised he had spent the night in the cell.

“Yeah. They didn’t even call him. For some reason, you got special treatment,” JJ said, nudging your arm.

That’s when it hit you. Your mother probobly did this to keep you out of jail. You felt sick. Horrible of what you had to done to make your mother do what she did.

“Whoa...you okay Y/n/n?” JJ asks, nudging you again.

You flinched at his nudge, but tries crossing your arms to cover it up.

You didn’t answer.

“You got all pale,” Pope added.

“Y/n/n, are you okay?” JJ repeated.

“I need some air,” you blurted, then jumped up and walked away from the group out on the doc.

“But we are outside,” JJ grumbled.

“JJ go talk to her,” Kie suggested.

“Me? She doesn’t wanna talk to me,” JJ shut down.

“Yes, she does. Now talk to her,” Kie demanded.

JJ grumbled curses to himself, he didn’t like to go be forced into things. And he didn’t want you to see him as a guy who didn’t know what to say.

JJ took off his hat and fumbled with it, “I really don’t mind...the uh extra jail time. But if you were there...I could’ve asked you if your-“

“Jesus, JJ,” you sighed.

“What did I do?” JJ asked, sitting down text to you on the dock.

“It...it’s everything. Like...I don’t want you here, so leave,” you insulted. You really wanted him to stay, but not give him the opportunity to find out how dishonestly you got out of jail.

“Okay. Easy, done,” JJ stated. But instead of getting up and leaving you in the dust, he moved closer to you, his knee touching yours.

You started to cry, why did he care? The tears were falling so fast you missed a few falling down your cheek. One landing on JJ’s knee.

“She...I can’t..it’s just stupid. And I hate myself.” You stuttered. Between gasps.

JJ put his arm around you, “why?”

“Because... she,” you said quietly, “slept with him,”

JJ frowned, distancing you from him slightly, “the cop?! Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” you said disappointedly.

“God damn, Y/n.” He said shaking his head.

“Please don’t tell anyone, J. I don’t really know why I told you. I just I can trust you,” you sighed.

“Yeah...uh okay Y/n. I’m uh I’m gonna go,” he shrugged, then stood up.

“W-wait! I need you J, where do you have to go?” You asked innocently.

“Look, if you think I’m okay with this? I’m not. Sex with a cop? Are you fucking kidding? What about us? All summer!” JJ exclaimed.

“Hold on-“ you attempted to explain, because JJ thought it was you.

“No. You know what. I feel like shit for ever opening up to you. I need some space from you.” He said disgustedly.

You started balling again, “JJ. It wasn’t me! What’s wrong with you!” You said, deeply offended by that accusation. Both you and jj had slightly developed feelings for eachother, but denied them the whole summer.

No one ever acted on them.

“What’s wrong with me? You’re the slut!” JJ shouted.

“Excuse me?!” You screamed back, offended.

JJ sighed, he took off his red baseball hat and threw it on the ground.

“To me, Y/n, a slut sleeps with someone to get something out of it. And that’s what you fucking did,” JJ retaliated.

“Fuck you. It wasn’t even me,” you mumbled, walking past him and down the driveway.

You didn’t want to go home. You were planning on spending the night at John B’s, but JJ really hurt you.

JJ replayed the conversation in his head, trying to figure out what he missed.

He regretted shitting on you, name calling. That wasn’t him, and it certainly wasn’t you.

You never explicitly told him it was your mom, but JJ believed you, that it wasn’t you. Now you just needed to talk.

You arrived at your house after walking for nearly an hour. But you couldn’t go in, not when you saw a cop car parked outside.

This angered you. How could he be here again? How could your mother do this?

Suddenly, a car drove up behind you. You were afraid to look. In case it was another cop.

“Hey, Y/n,” you heard JJ’s voice call.

You were stubborn, so you didn’t turn around.

“I shouldn’t have called you that shit. And I shouldn’t have let you leave. Wanna...let me apologize with dinner? On me,” JJ beamed, pleading.

“That would be nice,” you fought a smile, hopping in the passenger seat next to him.

more JJ reads!

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[infernwetrust]

The Devil In Me [Michael Langdon x Fem Reader] Part 1

Plot: What if we took the Antichrist, Michael Langdon and turned him into founder and leader of one of the largest cartel’s in California? And what’s even better, is that you’re by his side through it all.

Summary: Michael has some business handled at his California home.

Warnings: violence, swearing, fluff, a lil smut, MURDER, some graphic descriptions

WC: 3.1k

A/N: I thought long and hard about starting this, but I’m gonna go ahead and give it a shot. Outpost Michael fits this perfectly of course, but he’ll cut his hair every now and then lol. This will have it’s own bracket on my master list. Thank you for reading! -Juno

The air was cool. The evening was just right. Your husband Michael had decided to throw a small party that consisted of only close friends, family members, and some staff from your residency and Michael's line of work. Party music played moderately in the background as the backyard of the Santa Monica Villa you and Michael purchased this same year was filled with laughter, dancing, and casual conversation. Servers carried around platters of the most delectable finger foods. Drinks were also being served. Cars were lined up in the driveway, late arrivals having to park on the side of the road. Luckily, Michael always sent one of his guards on a golf cart to pick up his guests that had to park far away.

Michael laid in his hammock, across his rather large pool so that he was away from everyone else. Michael dressed comfortably. He wore a beautiful salmon pink floral shirt and white slacks, with a white belt. No need for shoes. Around Michael's neck was a platinum rope chain that glistened when the light shined on it just right. Around his wrist was a platinum iced out Rolex watch, his name engraved on the inside, one of his favorite gifts from you. The only ring he decided that he wanted to wear today was his wedding band, which shocked you. Michael always wore all of his rings.

Curled up against Michael's chest yours and his beautiful 1 year old boy, Malcolm. He was blessed with a full head of hair, just as blonde as his father's. He took after your eye color, but his resemblance to his father was unmatched. No worries because in his twin brother's arm was your handsome 3 year old son, Michael,who captured most of your features. All really, but your eye color. Michael won that fight again. Junior, is what everyone calls him. On the opposite side of Michael, still in his hammock was you, dressed in that sundress Michael loved to show you off in. Your wedding ring glistened on your finger, no matter what time of day it was or where you were. Michael made sure of that. Around your neck, your favorite Pearl necklace.

You lay head your head on Michael's chest, rubbing your hand gently against the back of your one year old. Michael raises his arm slowly as to not alert the sleeping child and takes a sip of his whiskey. He's glaring at someone, hard. And you know why and who, but you rather choose to not address it. All you were waiting for were the words.

"You know, brother." Jim said to Michael, using his free hand that wasn't holding Junior, to also take a sip of his drink. "I don't see how you do it."

"And what is it that I do, Jim?" Michael questioned, turning his head slightly to meet his brothers gaze. Junior nestled his head back into Jim's chest, mouth full of goldfish out of the bowl he was holding. Jim sat in a chair, adjacent to Michael's hammock.

"How you stay so calm and collected about things."

"Dirty work is not something I'm a fan of."

"But I am."

"I know, so that's why I gave this task to you."

"You know I'll do anything for my family."

"I just don't see why we can't just kick them out." you mumbled, watching as Malcolm grabbed your finger in his sleep as you tried to put your hand back down from his back.

"Because in this life, lessons have to be taught." Michael answered you, putting his glass down to wrap his arm fully around you. Michael made eye contact with his other twin, Duncan, who sat amongst a group of women, one of them in his lap, stroking his hair. He nodded, giving Michael the cue. "Will you go ahead and take the kids inside?" You sighed, sitting up, looking Michael in his soft blue eyes.

"Baby, you don't have to-,"

"One day you'll understand, Y/N." Michael said, cutting you off, grabbing one of your hands and giving it a few small kisses. Getting up, you gently picked up Malcolm, holding him close to you.

"Come on, Junior."

"Nooooooo." Junior whined, not wanting to leave his Uncle's side. "Don't wanna."

"Hey." Jim said, playfully grabbing Junior's tummy, causing him to giggle. "What was that phrase I taught you?"

"The first time." Junior responded happily.

"The first time what?"

"Listen!" he clapped, letting go of his bowl which Jim quickly caught before it fell to the floor.

"Smart boy. Now go with inside with your mommy. We'll play later, yeah?" Junior quickly nodded, scurrying off of Jim's lap and to your side, grabbing your hand. He turned around momentarily to look back at Jim, who shot him a quick wink before you took both boys inside. You also managed to scurry up the other children as well, promising treats and a good show on TV. You had them at treats.

"He loves you so damn much." Michael said, sitting up, hanging his feet of his hammock to come face to face with his brother. "Sometimes I swear he thinks you're his father."

"I mean. I could be. We're twins."

"Watch it, playboy."

Jim chuckled, reaching for his drink to take another sip. He dressed in a dark blue polo shirt, black slacks, and a pair of dark blue dress shoes. A black Louis Vuitton belt, midnight silver buckle, lined his waist. He sighed, reaching for his pistol that was tucked neatly behind him is waistband. He quickly removed the clip, checking it, and popping it back in before setting it down on the table next to Michael.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" Jim questioned. "He's been with us for a few years, Mike."

"All the more reason to get rid of him. I've taken care of you for years and you betray me like that?" Michael answered. "He knows too much and has seen too much."

"That's true." Jim mumbled, rubbing his hand underneath his chin. "What are they doing with his body?"

"Burning it." Michael said quickly, squinting his eyes at Jim. "Like we do 90% of the time. Do you not want to, Jim?" Michael's question caused Jim to laugh as he got up, returning his shirt back into his slacks. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes off the table, taking one out, placing it between his lips and giving it a light, tossing the box back on the table. He inhaled sharply, before exhaling lengthy.

"You and I both know, Michael." Jim began as he took another hit of his cigarette. "That I shy away from nothing. Especially not an, how do I put this, opportunity." Jim tucked his gun back into his waistband.

"And speaking of opportunity." Jim continued, looking out into the body of people before hitting his cigarette one last time and then handing it to Michael. "Here's mine."

Jim made his way, at a decent pace, back to the other side of the pool, where all the party goers stood. He took his time, waving and smiling at familiar faces. Spotting his target, he moved with just a little bit more urgency. It's such a shame that Bryce had to go. Michael watched Jim as he moved, continuing to sip his drink. Part of him wanted to look away because this hurt him as much as it was going to kill Bryce. Bryce was one of his favorites.

He remembered when he stumbled across Bryce who limped out of an alleyway, screaming for help as Michael closed up his bar. When Michael laid eyes on him, his clothes were completely ruined by blood. He held onto his stomach, collapsing onto the sidewalk, coughing up more blood as he spoke. Michael made his way over to the boy, kneeling down by his side, removing his hand from his wound, watching as the he poured out.

"How bad do you want to live?" Michael asked, cocking his head at the boy.

"What the fuck is up with you man?!" he questioned. "Help me!"

"I asked you a question." Michael spoke again. "You want to live right? I could just let you die, here."

"Um, kinda, yeah!"

"Then tell me how bad you want to live."

"Bad man! Bad! I want to fucking live bad! Please don't let me die!" Michael grinned. How fragile life was, he thought. How it could just be taken from you at any moment. Moments like these.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Br-Br-Bryce." he responded before blacking out from the pain.

"We're going to get you alllllll fixed up, Bryce."

Michael took Bryce, not to a hospital, but instead back to his property, where his own private doctor could deal with Bryce. They managed to take care of what they discovered was a gunshot wound instead of a stab wound like Michael originally thought when he found Bryce.

"How's he doing?" Michael asked Dr. Joseph as he stepped into the rather large, renovated, shed he had given to his doctor for his medical practices. He even was nice enough to give him a little office space as well.

"Well. He's very lucky considering how much he was bleeding." he answered. "Those two bullets I removed barely missed his vital organs, but he'll make a full recovery."

"Which room do you have him in? Is he awake now?"

"Room 3. It has the most room. The last time I checked on him, yes."

Michael nodded at his words, making his way over to the room. He entered quietly, not wanting to startle, Bryce. Bryce sat up in the bed, sipping on an ice cold water, scrolling through the movies on the flatscreen TV Michael had gotten installed in every room. Jim's idea, of course. There was an awkward silence in the room as Bryce didn't know whether to thank him first or say fuck him for waiting until he passed out and asking him all those stupid questions.

Michael didn't say anything as he walked around to the side of Bryce's bed, pulling up a near by chair to sit closer to him. Michael leaned back in his chair, throwing a leg halfway over his knee as he clasped his hands together. Bryce never took his eyes off of him, not sure what his next move would be.

"You're welcome by the way." Michael said. "Isn't it nice having someone take care of you without all the pesky need for insurance information or just a bill in general?"

"Why are you doing this?" Bryce questioned.

"Answer me this, Bryce." Michael leaned forward in his seat. "What if I offered you a chance to start over? A new chance at life. Somewhere, where you could be safe, your meals paid for. And all you have to do is stay by my side, loyal to me."

"I'm not gay, man."

"Who said anything about being gay?" Michael questioned, raising his eyebrow. "And what if I was?"

"Listen." Bryce breathed out. "I didn't mean to offend you. Look. Thank you. For bringing me, to, well wherever we are, and helping me. And once I'm all healed up, I'll be all out of your hair."

"Do you have any family, Bryce?" Bryce's whole attitude changed. He looked softer.

"No..." he answered silently.

"Well you do now."

Jim was just a few feet away from Bryce now when the two made eye contact. And when Jim reached, rather quickly, behind his back, Bryce knew. Of course he knew what he had done. Bryce turned around to start running, when Jim quickly cocked his gun and fired two shots, both at the back of his legs. Everyone stopped what they were doing, in shock, but not enough shock to runaway. It was Jim and who dares question one of Michael's brothers. Everyone watched as Bryce fell to the floor, screaming bloody murder in pain. Jim continued to walk at his leisurely pace to him, standing in front of him.

"Now." Jim said aloud, over the groans and screams of Bryce. "I know you all looked at Bryce as family, right? 4 years ago my brother found this piece of scum bleeding to death, begging for help. And of course Michael helped him."

"I'm sorry!" Bryce yelled, hands reaching out to grab Jim's ankle and it took everything in him not to kill Bryce right then and there, but he wanted to get his point across.

"And with the help of our wonderful Dr. Joseph, he was taken care of, free of charge, can you believe that?" Jim continued. "And all we asked for in return was just his unwavering loyalty." Jim snatched his ankle away from Bryce's hand, stepping on it, instead, causing him to scream out again as his fingers were crushed.

"But when you lie to AND you steal from the hand that feeds you." Jim looked around at everyone as he said this. "There are consequences." Jim kneeled down in front of Bryce who looked up at him, his eyes filled with tears, pleading with Jim.

"Please..." Bryce whispered to Jim, grabbing ahold of him again. "Please Jim, I'm sorry. I was desperate."

Jim grabbed him by his face, snapping his head up to look all the way at him. He looked at the gun in his opposite hand, before looking back at Bryce. The small breeze that was in the air had come completely still, everyone virtually silent as they watched the events unfold. When things first went missing around the house when Michael would hold meetings, they didn't even think to look at Bryce. Not until Michael had trusted him enough to appoint him as Duncan's right hand man. Duncan handled all of the cartel's finances and when he kept coming up short on the days just him and Bryce would do the counting, he caught on rather quickly.

"I liked you Bryce." Jim said, jaw clenched. "I really did. We all did. We loved you almost, but you know the rules, don't you?"

"Jim please..." Bryce whined, starting to cry his eyes out, but only enough for Jim to see and hear. "Please man. I'll do anything. Anything please!"

"What did I tell you happened to those who betrayed the cartel? What is your own way out once you're in? I mean I could just let you go, yeah? But once you walk out those doors you become a liability to me, my brothers, and my family. And I just can't have that."

"Death..." Bryce mumbled. "But we can work something out, please!"  Jim chuckled as he let go of Bryce's face, quickly cocking his gun again, before holding Bryce's face up again. He put the gun inside of Bryce's mouth, looking him dead in his eyes.

"Maybe in another life." And with those words said, Jim pulled the trigger, the sounds of bloods and mush splattering across the ground. A few turned their heads, not wanting to see the sight. Jim looked up and back across the pool at his brother who downed the rest of his drink, nodding at Jim.

"Clean it up." Jim said to the disposal crew who stood near by, rising to his feet, and tucking his gun back away. "Everyone else can carry on."

///

The warm water danced on your skin as you stood in the shower, washing away all events from today. You put your face underneath the water for a few seconds before running both of your hands through your hair. When you turned around you were startled by the presence of your husband, Michael, who stood behind you, a little soaked from the backlash of you being underneath the water. His vibrant blue eyes were now several shades darker as he was out of the sun light. He simply just stared at you.

You offered to trade him positions under the water so he could get completely wet too and of course he didn't object. You were now staring at him as he stepped underneath the water, sighing as it hit his skin. He ran his hands over his face as he turned around to face you, getting off as much water as he could before he opened his eyes again to look at you. Water dripped off his skin and your eyes couldn't help but trail all over him. He was so beautiful. His long blonde hair, over shoulder length, completely wet now as the water continued to pour down on him. You almost smiled, remember when Michael told you that he was going to start growing his hair out. He cut it every now and then, but nothing compared to long haired beauty.

"I'm sorry." he spoke, running his hands over his face again. "I know you don't like when.. you know." You walked over to your husband, pressing your forehead against his, throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His large hands found their way to small of your back, pulling you even closer.

"I know..." you mumbled, using your thumbs to rub the back of his neck. "I'm not mad at you, Michael. I just don't want you to become... emotionless."

"Everything I do is to protect you and our boys. Without my family, I am nothing. This empire? We built it, Y/N. Not just me. I'm still here emotionally, but you know it works. He was too much of a liability to just let go. And when the right information gets into the wrong hands, I'm only sure you can imagine what happens."

"Do you ever get afraid, Michael?"

"Only if it deals with you and my sons." he said, looking down at you, smiling. Cheeky bastard.

"I'm being serious. What if one day you go out and don't come back home? What if we get attacked here? What will I do? What will I tell our children?"

"Don't you ever worry about that, my love." Michael reassured you. "As long as my brothers and I are alive and breathing, no one will be in any kind of danger. I promise." Michael brushed his lips across yours as he finished his sentence. You pulled him in for a kiss. A hungry one, it was, as your tongues wasted no time entering each other's mouths, Michael's dominance showing as you basically let him devour you, melting away at his touch. He backed you up against the shower wall and you gasped against him as it was cold. He picked you up and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him like your life depended on it. 

"Let me help you forget..." he said against your lips, brushing his nose across yours and you remembered, just how in love you are with Michael.

Taglist: @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid @9layerdevilfoodcake  @xavierplympton @jimmason @theneverendinghunger

#cody fern #american horror story #cody fern imagine #ahs #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #jim mason #duncan shepherd #tribes of palos verdes #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x reader

[vinylhazza]

A Lesson Learned (E.D) Part 2.

Summary: Y/n speaks out of turn in class, her filthy mouth giving her more than just a slap on the wrist - but a detention with her favorite teacher. Ethan finds himself at a loss when he falls back into the same mistake he vowed to never make again. He just can’t shake her loose. 

Word Count: 9.6k

Warning: the dirtiest of smut 

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It was a week before Ethan saw her again. The short break they had before the last week of class was much needed, but when he laid his eyes on her soft features once again, he found it more difficult to keep his eyes averted than he first anticipated. It was a tradition to give the girls a full week to mule over their studies before finals, just to catch up and make sure they can have all the knowledge crammed into their heads before they returned to take those dreaded tests awaiting them. Normally he would be excited to come back into the classroom and get the year finished off with a bang, but he had other things on his mind this time around. He had her on his mind this time. 

He could see the knowing look on her face where she sat in the back, her delicate legs crossed, foot bouncing lazily while she chewed on the end of her pencil near the eraser. Her bright doe eyes trained on him with no shame, only knowledge about what glorious sight remained under the suit he was wearing. It made him squirm more than he would like. She had this glimmer in her eye that screamed about what they had done, and if you looked hard enough, they would tell the full story to anyone that would listen. He could tell she was itching to come clean, tell someone about how he fucked his student into his desk and had the nerve to face her again. It made him more nervous than he’d been when she sunk onto his lap for the first time a week ago. 

He had panicked all week, worried that someone had found out about their dirty little secret and was waiting for the right moment to pounce. He figured maybe he wouldn’t be able to trust her to not tell one of her friends, brag about seducing her teacher out of everyone. Gloat that she could nail him. Just a rumor at an all girls school could end him. Of course there had been plenty of speculations made about him, but never ones involving another student. They were comments about how big his dick might be, girls talking about how he’d look with them bent over their desks, thrusting into them hard and deep. He’s even confiscated several notes being passed in class about such speculations. 

The young girls at the school were...bold to say the least. When they wanted something - they made it as obvious as they could. Perks of being raised in a well-off household he’s sure. He doesn’t want anyone to think he’s a prude, however. Because that isn’t the case at all. He loves sex, adored it, craved it more than he thought he should, he just didn’t want to entertain these little girls fantasies of his dick ripping them in two. Because it wouldn't happen. Not until her at least. He was flattered - of course - that these girls thought of him that way. Boosted his ego if he’s being honest. But he kept that to himself, gave himself a moment to smile about it while he washed his dishes after dinner or laid in bed thinking about the next day. He gave himself a second to feel at least a little cocky over having the girls pining after him, and then he was done. 

The point here being, he doesn't fall into the trap. He doesn't give in and have girls bent over his desk at any given moment and fuck them senseless like he knew he could if he wanted to. So much opportunity. But no desire. So why on God’s merciful green earth had he given into her so easily? Why hadn't he tried harder to resist her? It made him think long and hard. And he was almost ashamed of the conclusion he had come to. He was almost ashamed to say that...he’s always wanted her. From the moment he saw her bat her eyelashes at him first semester, to the last time her skirt had swooshed a piece of stray paper onto the floor from his desk on ‘accident’. He’d wanted her all this time. Not only her body was immaculate, but her mind was a force to be reckoned. He noticed himself spending more time on her papers and stories than any other student, not caring when she exceeded the word limit because it was so damn good. He was lost within her words on so many occasions and knew deep in the pit of his stomach he fell for both her words and her body all at the same time. 

It made him sick. 

Sick to his fucking stomach every time his dick became far too restricted in his pants at the thought of her curves and shivers while their bodies danced an erotic routine that day. Sick to his stomach to think of the soft grin she gave him before she exited his door, like she really cared for him as a person. She wasn’t stupid. That’s what made this whole thing so incredibly wrong is that she wasn’t tricked into anything, and as much as he’d like to claim that he was - he knows the real truth. He wanted it. He had always wanted it. Wanted her. And he still does. 

One thing was for sure, she wasn't stupid. She knew what she wanted and she knew how to drive him right to the cusp of insanity, waving at him on the ledge with that innocent little smirk she wore at that very moment, sneaky and devious. A heathen that waited for him to try and back away from the ledge before pulling him right back down again. She continued to sit there, chewing on the damn pencil like she didn't know that his cock was straining in his pants with every minute that passed. A silent killer at the back of the classroom that watched him ramble on and on about something he couldn’t give two fucks about. He could only wish for the bell to ring and her to leave so he could take a full breath again instead of this suffocating desire to rip her clothes off and fuck her into a coma right on that tiny desk she sat in. 

She wasn’t really listening, staring up and down his body with patient eyes, scanning him, observing him, waiting for him. She knew every single part of him. She was the only one sitting in the room that did. The only one that knew just how far he could sink into a cunt that ached for him, the only one that knew what his groans sounded like, the grunting of exertion, the smacking of his lips as he kissed her. Only she knew of his sins. Only she could really fantasize of the sound he made when he came, how his muscular body tensed and shook while he fucked her into a place she missed every day since. She knew the way her walls clung to his cock like a lifeline, the smell of him, the taste of him, and most of all how bullshit his ‘good boy’ attitude really was. He was a fucking machine and she knew. But he was stubborn. So stubborn in fact, that she knew it would be near impossible to get bent over that desk like she had been before, he would try and defy her again and again until she gave up. Convinced it was a mistake. But she knew better. 

Of course she wasn't planning to force herself on him again, that was a one time only situation that had honestly been more surprising to her than anyone else. She wasn’t that bold of a person on really any occasion. But something in her snapped when she saw the way his jaw clenched as her skirt twirled around her that day, focused on the sway of her hips while she tread lightly to his desk to confess her desires. If she was being honest, she freaked the fuck out that she had been so forward the first time - terrified that he hadn't actually given consent and she had forced him into something he never really wanted. It drove her insane to think that she had been so insensitive. 

But then she remembered the way he yanked her panties down to her ankles and practically drooled at the sight of her drenched pussy. Stared at her like he was starving for far too long. Touched it with hands that had no other purpose but to relish in the gift of pleasure it gave him. She remembered the way he sunk into her heat, so delicious, so needy, so desperate. She was his sanctuary for that moment. He wasn't above the every day average man when it came to desire, he had his needs. But he fucked her better than anyone ever had. He paid close attention to the way her body reacted to his touch, followed it’s instructions, silent orders, gave into it’s pleas for a connection. Something no man - or boy rather - has ever come close to. Because that’s the truth, she’s only ever fucked boys...but Ethan...he was a man. 

She wasn’t an imbocile, she knew it was wrong, what she was doing. What she wanted to do again. She knew it was wrong and it could ruin much more than her sanity. But she couldn't help that her body yearned for him every second that passed, the way she longed for him even in her dreams. Their first mistake was one she wanted to make over and over. And if she had it her way, they would. 

Ethan was a good teacher, there wasn't a way around that. He was open, considerate, intelligent, and allowed the girls in his class to speak freely on their views and opinions. He was under the impression that life revolved around self - expression and connection. He held impeccable class discussions, patiently waiting for everyone to make their point, explore it, and move on. He knew the girls loved him for more than just his looks, hence why he put up with the nonsense for so long. However; one thing he wished he could go back and change, was the freeness. He was lenient, that was no lie. So much so, that when conversation drifted to sex during their class discussions, he was unable to tame it down and get back onto the original topic. He remained stuck in a constant loop of questions - so often he questioned if he was an English teacher or a Health teacher at times. Health was a poor excuse of a class at the school he had to admit, it did nothing to actually focus on safe sex and the topics the girls actually needed to learn to practice said safe sex. Not that he was condoning the act but - the point being that he felt guilty if he didn't give them an outlet. They were comfortable enough to come to him, be open with him and with the class, have fabulous discussions, manage to focus it around the literature and modern day problems, and sometimes even come to a solution or conclusion that satisfied the class and himself. He didn't want to take it away from them in fear that if they didn't talk about it with each other, with him, with their peers in a safe space, they might not ever get the chance and end up making life altering decisions that they don't fully understand. 

That is how he found himself standing patiently at the front of the class, rocking back and forth on the balls of his heels, waiting for a small redhead to continue on with why she had raised her hand. First it had been about the recent reading, but then, of course, as it often did, sex was brought up. Any other time, that wouldn't be an issue...but now...with her staring at him, waiting for him to give advice to a little girl when it meant something different to both of them, it felt...different. 

“All I’m saying is that guys have way more pressure to lose their virginities”, Jinny speaks up from the back of the class close to her desk. Everyone listened intently, hanging on her every word like she spoke gospel. She was regularly speaking out in class, it was a wonder she didn't sit in the front row, but he knew deep down she was in a long term relationship with Wanda - who sat next to her and played footsie with her while he lectured. They thought it was innocent enough, but he saw. She was also close friends with Y/n, walking with their arms intertwined from the classroom more times than not. It was no wonder she was so confident, “it’s a double edged sword for girls, always has been, if you have sex you're a ‘slut’, if you don't you’re a prude.” Her tone was accusatory, frustration leaking out of her. They usually get worked up when class discussion starts and he gives them free reign to say what they thought of the reading and how it applies to their life. Jinny was always the most fired of up, Wanda close behind with her hand raised in the air. 

Y/n watched the man she daydreamed about become flustered almost immediately. He didn't agree. That much was clear in the furrow of his brow and the hand that flew through his hair one time over. He smacked his ruby lips before finally giving a response, she knew it wouldn't be a statement, but a question to keep the conversation going. Because of course, people are predictable. He’d said that once and she never forgot it. She never forgot anything he said. 

“Good point Jinny. But don’t you agree that it would cause more pressure on the woman for that very reason? I presume it would be hard to choose whether to be a ‘slut’ or a ‘prude’. Do you think it would confuse a young woman on the choices she would make with her body?” he ponders, ignoring the childish giggling at his language. 

Her eyes burned into him, his cheeks a rosy red while he waited for a response, not daring to look in her direction. He imagined she was smirking, the little devil she was. 

“Most of those opinions were made by men, though. Girls shouldn't listen to society on something that will stay with them forever. We own our bodies and I think it’s bullshit -”

“Language,” he interjects calmly. 

“- for men to try and control us just because they have this idea in their head that they are essential for our pleasure. Which, newsflash, they aren't. So I say, do what you want. Men don't control us. They just try so hard to. They feel like sex defines them, so it should define us too.” 

“It is very difficult for young girls nowadays with the social norms, I agree.” He’s nodding, pulling at the stubble on his chin while he thinks about her surprisingly valid point. It was bullshit their special moments ‘belonged’ to men. That it was something to be expected and disrespected all at the same time. 

Y/n watched the girls around her swoon in Mr. Dolan’s direction, leaning on their elbows and batting their chunky mascara lined eyelashes at him like he would give a damn. It was hilarious. So hilarious that she clamped a hand over her own mouth, giggle being caught in her throat as she doubled over, Ethan’s gaze flicking to her for a moment for the first time in what seemed like thirty minutes. He frowned. She was hiding a smile. He had to hold back his own when it dropped from her face, result of eyes turning to watch her. 

Ethan had to say something to her now and she knew it. She had drawn attention to herself in an important conversation and it would be nothing but honorable of him to take notice. 

“Something amusing Miss Y/l/n?” 

“N-no, sir,” she sputtered with a shake of her head, still trying to keep the laughter at bay, “nothing funny at all.”

“I didn't think so. Please try your best to pay attention to your peers.” He pointed a frown at her, warning her with his eyes. 

But he had chosen the wrong day to give her attention. She was feeling ballsy. She was ready to have her fun. She could just feel the way his breath caught in his windpipe as the first words left her mouth, cutting him off from furthering the conversation with the class. 

“Actually, sir,” she piped up, sitting forward in her chair, elbows on the wooden top, lips in a soft pout, staring hard at him. She didn't like that he was being a dick to her, especially in front of all the girls that want to fuck him and find every opportunity to get on his good side. She had tried to hide her laugh behind her hand, so why had he called her out in front of everyone? Just to embarrass her? Make her blush? 

“There is something kind of funny. You see the thing is,” she scooched to the edge of her seat, ready to rile him up like she knew she could, “you're a man. So...I respect you shooting your shit up there but you don't quite understand girls the way you think, or hope, you do.” 

Bingo. His prominent eyebrow raised while he turned to look her directly in the eyes, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. Careful little one, they seemed to sing to her. 

“Hm, care to explain Miss Y/l/n?” 

A gentle nod. Ethan hoped and prayed with all his might that her goal was not to punish him, out him in front of a room full of his students. Hoped she was just irritated and feeling feisty, but not enough to potentially ruin his career - even if that fate is truly held within his own hands and not that of a teenager. Fuck a teenager...how could he be so stup-

“You’re implying that all girls feel the sense of duty when it comes to their sexual endeavors, like they don't have a choice and have to choose one way or the other because that’s just how things are. You’re proving the point, Mr. Dolan that men truly don't get that inserting themselves where it doesn't belong is a part of the problem. But you’re forgetting one thing,” another quirk of his eyebrow, dashing asshole he was, “some girls are virgins because they choose to be, not because they feel they have to be. Sometimes it’s really just about the comfort and confidence of the woman. Take me for example. I don't feel pressure to have sex because I'm secure enough to control my body, but if I wanna go out and get fucked, then I can.” She let it slip past her lips, the big F bomb, without thinking about it - feeling all eyes in the room turn to fully gawk at her for being so bold in front of the teacher. Ethan didn't even bat an eyelash, knowing she cussed a lot and not registering it as inappropriate in the moment, too focused on how hilarious it was that she was claiming to control her body. Bullshit is all it was. 

“Of course Y/n,” he smirked, giving his lips a quick pass with his tongue, “thank you for sharing that with us.” 

Dear God stop talking you insolent girl, they will know if you keep testing the limits. He scolded her with all the brain power he had, imagining that if he thought hard enough, she would get the hint and shut her fucking mouth. 

“She kind of has a point, sir,” little Erica quipped from across the room, gesturing to Y/n softly. He turned to her in the third row, using the opportunity to tear his eyes away from the back where she stared him down with that same glimmer she had that day. Damn her for always looking so pretty. “It’s really all about Feminism. We need Feminism so girls can feel more comfortable breaking out of the norms placed on us by males and feel free - so to say - to have a lot of sex and not feel shamed for it.” 

Y/n nodded her head in thought, smacking her lips and joining her fingers together on the desk in a pile, smirking directly at Mr. Dolan. “I totally agree that we need Feminism. We always have with these jackasses running the world. But, fuck that, I don’t need a man’s approval of equality to take a dick when I want to.” 

As to be expected, laughter immediately made a roar throughout the classroom. Y/n sat back in her chair in triumph, raising her hands up in an ‘I don't know what to tell you’ motion, only making him that much more irritated than before. Why couldn't she just be a good girl for once? Always a heathen. His voice was near drowned out in the noise, his hands coming up to push down the air - reminding himself briefly of a celebrity shushing a crowd. Almost made him chuckle, but he held it inside. 

“Girls - hey, quiet down please,” his stern voice called over the chattering, stuffing one hand into his pocket while the other continued it’s up and down motion, “C’mon hush. Calm down. You know this isn't the appropriate behavior to show your instructor.” He sighed in thanks when the chattering came down to a quiet buzz, knowing it’s as good as it’s going to get. He nodded in recognition, then turned to stare hard an Y/n, a stern look on his face. He wasn't happy - and she loved it. A string of heat traveled from her stomach all the way down to her heat, knowing what his frustration can really do. She was clenching just at the small of his irises growing bigger each second. 

“Thank you for that once again Miss Y/l/n, but maybe you can keep your comments to yourself from now on.” Typical teacher. Shutting her down just as she was starting to have fun. He has a way of doing that. She didn’t speak much, only when she felt it important enough to share with everyone - but when she did everyone liked her for it. Her fiery passion was always a winner for the class. But she didn't let it go to her head, she still preferred to be a bit more reserved. “If you wish to look on page 27 for a reference feel free to do so, but as for everyone else let’s move on to discuss the topic at hand - misogyny in modern times!” 

Class went on as it always did, granted it was far less entertaining when she wasn't frustrating him and making him squirm behind his pathetic little pedestal he always leans on in lectures. For now it was serving it’s purpose to hide his bulge that just wouldn't go away no matter how many times he thought of repulsive things he thought would get his brain off her pussy that he longed for. So close yet so far away. But she was making him angry, speaking out of turn in front of everyone just to get a rise out of him? It was unacceptable. She could feel his eyes linger on her every now and then, but he didn't dare say another word in front of the class, knowing it would just get the girls going again. It made her a bit sad, if she’s honest. Maybe she had overstepped. She had used bad language in front of the entire class, after all. She knew what that usually meant: detention. And she hated detention, but he hadn't brought it up to her thus far and she wasn't going to raise her hand just to ask to be punished. The punishment she craved was something far different. 

She eyed him over the pages of her frayed book, typing away on his MacBook Pro like nothing unholy and dirty had ever happened at the desk he sat at. Like he hadn't sinned on that desk. Like he hadn't given her exactly what she’d dreamt about for so long on that very same desk he kept tapping a pencil on. His secretive gaze burnt the skin of her face, a rosy color coming to her cheeks under it’s pressure. 

But he was angry. He was irritated. He was beyond worried about his actions. He should have called her out in front of everyone, ripped off that blue detention slip from his desk and told her to watch her mouth and learn some respect before he has to send her to the principals office. He should have used his authority to discipline her like he did every other student that acted out in class. But he didn't. He just sat there and typed away on a document like nothing ever happened. Warming up to her. Picking his favorite like he vowed to never do. 

He mewled over it for the remainder of class, let her go? or make her stay after and be alone when he knows it won’t end well? The seconds ticked on like molasses, slower and slower and slower, until that blessed bell finally rung throughout the silent classroom - the girls shooting up out of their chairs, stuffing their belongings into their bags, and waving to him as they exited the classroom. That’s when he caught her on her arm, preventing her from walking about the door. “Stay behind for a moment,” he’d said, giving her nothing but a stern frown and a firm hand around her bicep. Too firm. Firm enough to send a message. Don’t test me. 

The remaining girls leaving the classroom shuffled out through the tension, whispering amongst themselves about her getting in trouble. She normally would have been embarrassed but couldn't find it in herself with his hand still squeezing at her. 

“Sit in a desk,” he tuts, dropping her arm and turning back to mutter a soft, “please.” He wasn't a dick of course. 

Ethan watched Y/n saunter to a tiny wooden desk, pulling her a chair out and plopping into it with a heavy sigh and a bitter attitude. She wasn't happy, but then again neither was he. She thought for a minute he was giving her a warning, but her heart sunk when she peered at him from under her eyelashes - strolling to his desk with a smirk. His smirk was for him and him alone, amused at what he was about to make her do. Maybe this would be his one up. He was trying desperately to grasp that authority she’d taken from him, and maybe an old fashioned punishment was just the way to do it. Show her that she can’t get away with whatever she wanted to simply because she’d seduced him into fucking her. 

She glared hard at the pen and paper in his hand, raising a daring eyebrow up at him when he slides the white sheet in front of her, the pen coming down soon after with a click. Is he serious? Is he really going to make her-

“Get Comfortable. You’ll sit here all lunch and write lines. Like the good ole days.” 

That fucker. 

Her scowl was menacing. If looks could kill he’d be on the ground lifeless. “You want me to write lines? For what fucking reason? I joined in on the class discussion like you always want me too. You’re punishing me for answering your question?” 

“No. I’m punishing you for using inappropriate language in front of your superior and class, Y/n. Your actions have consequences,” he drones on, quite pleased with the reaction he’s getting out of her. Now she feels a fraction of his rage. Mistakes have to be repented. 

He turns his back to her, shoulder blades moving in a hypnotizing fashion beneath his blazer. He doesn't give much explanation after that, sinking down into the swivel chair they had fucked on only a few weeks ago. He could feel her staring still, watching his every move. How could he be so hot and such a jackass all at once? He’s doing this not because of her language, but because he’s mad at himself for giving into her. But he wanted it too. He can’t say that he didn’t when he had ravaged her like a wild animal on the desk he rests his elbows on now. 

Well he’s going to learn she’s a lot harder to break than a bad habit. 

With a smirk of her own she tucks the blue inked pen between her fingers, sliding the piece of paper closer to her - getting comfortable like he said, of course. She’s accepting her punishment. 

She blinks at him with an innocent gleam to her eyes, a devil in disguise, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth, “So what am I supposed to write, Mr. Dolan?” 

“I will not use the word ‘fuck’ during my English Class. One hundred and fifty times.” Snarky bitch. He’s wiggling his nose in the most adorable way, trying to hide a smile. Jesus that smile will kill her, she feels it eating away at her frustration already. Ethan settles back in his desk, a delighted sigh easing past his lips. He loved being an asshole sometimes. Especially to little girls that don’t like to listen. Or one little girl, rather. 

Without even thinking she’s rolling her eyes with a dramatic huff, “Doesn't that defeat the entire purpose Ethan?” Oops. 

“Mr. Dolan,” he corrects smoothly. 

Hard ball. She can roll with that. 

“Fine,” she sing-songs, an idea much better flashing into her head at his obvious impatient tone. 

With her attention focused on her assignment, he had the time to look at her as much as he pleased - scribbling on the bright white sheet, becoming much less white with every blue line traced on the surface. Five minutes. It didn't take her but five minutes to scribble down the entire front side of the sheet. He didn't acknowledge the paper when she first placed it on the desk, instead looking to the clock on the wall with a frown settled on his face. He hadn't expected her to be done that fast. It was only when he noticed her milky thighs in front of his face, standing in front of his desk still and waiting, that he checked the sheet for the content. She peered down at him scanning the paper with his dark brows pulled tight , that adorable little frown tugging at the corners of his mouth again. 

He couldn't deny it. She looked adorable in her uniform. Skirt pulled up with no tights, knee high socks the only article covering her legs. Which, in his opinion, wasn’t enough. The white blouse dipped into the cravat of her breasts, bust on full display - just hidden enough to pass the radar. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, baby hairs pulled down to frame her face. She had even pulled out a set of heels she hadn't worn in a while just to see his eyes travel down and land on the black strappy excuses for shoes. It made her shiver just to see him try and hide the fact that he was looking. But it was also hilarious, considering he’d seen much more than that. He kept that frown on locked and loaded, blinking at the paper like he couldn't believe what he was reading. 

“I will not fuck my teacher in English class,” he mumbles, almost afraid to say the words out loud. 

“Eighty times look!” she grinned, motioning to the amount on the sheet, like she wasn't teasing him into insanity. 

Ethan didn't know what to do. He was caught at a crossroads, every way to turn was the wrong way. He couldn't very well send her to the principals office, he would for sure get found out then. Even a wild dream could get him fired for the simple immorality. If he got lucky he might not get fired, but being monitored almost seemed worse. They were so careful at the school, but somehow not careful enough. Just the thought of someone finding the paper had him crumpling it into a ball almost immediately, watching Y/n pout out her bottom lip in mock sadness. Ethan tossed the paper into the bin by his desk, wasting her hard work. 

“Alright, Y/n,” Ethan sighed, looking up at her cheeky smile, “It’s clear you can’t behave in my class or act like the young adult that you are.” 

“I’m really sorry, sir,” she simpers, twisting on the toes of her heels. She’s really putting on a show, blinking her full eyelashes at him, twisting her fingers at the bottom of her skirt. She’s not sorry. She isn't and never would be. 

“Miss Y/l/n, I’m serious. It’s time to stop this foolishness before you get yourself into more trouble than a lunch detention,” he grits through his teeth, not liking the nearly undetected rubbing of her thighs in front of his face - but he noticed. 

“What foolishness do you mean?” she’s teasing him again, leaning down to rest her small hand next to his elbow on the desk, some hair from her ponytail swinging around in front of her face, her breath moves the hairs slightly with every puff. He waits for her to finish, feeling deep down that she hasn't got to the punchline of her little joke here and he just wants it all to be over before he’s stuck in another secret he can’t stop beating himself up over, “I’m just telling you the truth, daddy.” 

It was condescending and evil just like the smile she gave him at that very same moment. Who knew such a little word could have such a big impact? His head snapped up within a second, knowing it’s probably the exact reaction she wanted from him. But that was the last word she expected to fall from her mouth, so strong and confident it almost sounded right. He had the thought of leaving the classroom himself, just walking away from her and the festering heat rising up within himself every second she leans over the shiny wood of his desk. God she was a demon. 

“Get out. Get out of my classroom right now,” he ordered finally after finding his voice. He made every attempt at making it firm and serious, no shakiness or she will be feed on it like a parasite - see right through his fragile mask. 

“No,” she dares. Another smirk. 

“Did I stutter? You either leave now or I make you,” he orders one more time, a pathetic lie he pulled out of his ass in a second. 

“Fuck you,” she hummed, staring into his dark hazel eyes, continuing to be amazed at the steady dilation of his pupils. Whether it was anger or something else, she wasn't sure. 

“Miss. Y/l/n.” He tutted at her language, temper ready to boil over. 

“Mr. Dolan.” She matches his tone, grinning so bright you’d think he’d given her a present. 

“Why is it so hard for you to understand the proper teacher, student relationship? Are you not grasping that last week was a mistake? A moment of weakness for the both of us? Something that never. should. have. happened? All you’re doing now is making me angry and being a brat-”

“Oh cry me a fucking river,” she sneered at his frowning face, that same evil tug of her lips still there. “You fucked me, remember? You said yes. You bent me over this fucking desk and railed me harder than you probably have any other woman and you loved it, Ethan. You didn't have any complaints with your cum going down my throat. Why do you take so much shame in it? Am I really that horrible that you have to convince yourself you didn't take it all the way?” 

“Y/n, I could lose my job because of you. I could lose everything. My freedom, my sanity, everything. Why don’t you get that?” Ethan whispered back to her angrily. He was fuming now just thinking about the possible outcomes if their little secret ever became public. 

“You don’t get to blame me for your lack of control over your own dick baby, that’s what you aren't going to do. You didn't have any hesitation whipping your cock out of those slacks before with your own hands.” 

“You know what?” Ethan seemed to snap. He knew he wasn't thinking clearly again, his only thought being that he wanted to get her filthy little mouth shut. He was furious at her. Not because she was wrong. But because she was right. And it made him angry. 

“What daddy?” There that word was again. She stood up straight once again, biting her lip and clenching her thighs together only to get him angrier. 

“You like being bent over my desk so much bitch? Bend over my fucking desk then,” Ethan growled, reaching forward to wrap his fist around her ponytail, lowering her shocked-filled face to the cool surface of the desk. Well this is familiar. 

“There’s those fucking balls,” she triumphs, grinning to herself when his hand lands down on her cheek with a harsh slap. 

“Little slut likes to be spanked huh?” he’s muttering, yanking her skirt up and over her ass. White lace panties. White fucking lace. The pathetic fabric hardly covered any inch of the skin on her backside, curving down to cover that beautiful pussy he missed so much. His face strained into an agonized frown, it physically pained him to see her bent over with white fucking lace, “Maybe then you’ll learn to watch your filthy mouth.” 

“Yes sir I do,” she nods, wiggling her hips back at him, “Please make me your good girl. I don’t wanna write lines anymore, daddy please don’t make me.” 

“You just refuse to listen,” he growled once again, pulling down the lace to sit just below her ass, laying his hand down for a slap once more, “You need to learn to listen.” Her flesh shakes under his hand, his jaw clenching at the faint red handprint that was left behind after spanking her only once. The cold metal of his ring leaves an imprint of it’s own, sure to be a reminder the next day of their little affair. He continued to litter her backside with slap after slap, grinning down at her arching her back into the desk, moaning loudly and wiggling her hips to try and run. With a grab at her skin he’s leaning into her ear, “That’s right baby, moan for me, that feels good doesn't it? You like it when I punish you?”

He gets a frantic nod as his answer, a little whine to follow soon after. The pain felt good, really good. She never thought she would be the one to like pain in such an intense way, but just the stinging of her ass made her wetter than she ever has been. She knows by now her arousal is making its way onto her thighs. 

“Teach me how to listen, sir,” she fires back after catching her breath, her chest hurting from being pressed so hard to the desk, rubbing from him spanking her. She jumps at his hand making contact again with a grunt. He’s so mean. But she likes it. 

“Be fucking quiet.” Assertive. So very dominant. 

“Yes, sir,” she promised, still huffing desperately, an attempt at catching her breath. He gave one last smack on her ass before he rid her of her panties completely, yanking them down until they pool at her ankles. Before she can moan out at the cool air hitting her cunt for the first time he’s grabbing at her shoulders and standing her back up, flipping her around by her waist so her now sore and reddened ass rests on the edge of the desk. She audibly gasps, wincing slightly when he scoots her up and onto the wooden surface. He feels for her when her tiny hand grips at his forearm, knowing it’s a reaction from the pain. To her surprised, he stopped and crouched down to eye level, grabbing her chin gently. 

“You okay?” The way he said it was soft, but also so concerned that she had to give him a big smile and a little nod. 

“Yeah,” she assured him, grabbing at the back of his neck and pulling him to hover right above her lips. “Fuck me,” she whispered, begging him with her eyes that he always had a weakness for. She knows deep down the pain just turned her on more. 

“I can’t,” he grunted, parting her legs only to fit himself between them, “you know we can't baby.” 

“Come on please? Just one more time. Just once please,” she whimpered, watching him dip down onto his knees in front of her. Y/n bit at her lip as she looked down at his face between her legs. Throwing her legs over his strong shoulders only made it harder for her to control herself, wanting him to go down on her like a wild animal, no holds barred. Just instinct. Her fingers toyed with the buttons on her blouse, undoing them one by one to exposed her budding breasts, wanting him to see everything. Ethan gripped her legs, pulling her to the edge of the desk once again, looking over her shimmering cunt. She was so wet she was practically dripping on his desk, making a mess. Clearly desperate for his mouth, she grinds her hips to try and meet her pussy to his mouth, pouting when he rears back to look at her. 

“Keep your mouth shut, understood?” He waits for her nod before leaning back in, kissing first at her thighs that already shake with anticipation, before sticking his tongue out to lick a thick stripe up her pussy. He teases her for what seems like an eternity - blowing cool air through his lips, biting love marks into the skin of her thighs, licking everywhere but where she wanted him the most. She could swear she screamed when his lips finally wrapped around her clit, sucking and sucking and sucking, dancing his tongue around the sensitive nub. Her legs threatened to shut his head between her thighs, only stopping when two hands rested on her knees, keeping them apart while he worked wonders on her aching pussy. 

“Oh yes - fuck - that’s it,” she praised him between quick gasps, blissful content written all over her beautiful face. He ate her out like he was starving, sloshing sounds ringing throughout the classroom, mixing with her squeals and whines. Y/n fisted his hair, wrapping her fingers around those dark locks that he played with when he was nervous, holding his face to her pussy securely. There was a part of her that felt high with power as she held his face to her pussy, forcing his lips to keep kissing and sucking at her. It made her feel like in some way, she had the one up.

Staring down at him was hard enough as it was with the way he was working her so good, slacking his jaw further, dipping his tongue into her entrance repeatedly, sighing at how wet she was. Her hips grinded on his face, needing that extra bit of friction to really make her see stars. When he brought his hands up to assist her, she was sure she blacked out for a moment. He kept pushing that skilled tongue inside of her to feel how hot she was for him. How desperate she was for him. It had him holding back the hardest he ever has before. He promised himself over and over that he wouldn't fuck her again. That he couldn't. That is was an impossible task he was only to achieve one time. But the way she clamped around his tongue had his mind racing with defiant thoughts. Y/n wasn't good for his health. She filled his thoughts with sin. She made him stumble over himself when he taught his classes, batting her eyelashes at him with fake innocence. She hiked her skirt up higher every single day, just to see his eyes flicker down to capture the smooth skin of her legs. He knew he needed to be clear headed, but all he could seem to do was think about how much he needed her. Needed to ruin her. Needed to be inside her. Needed to fuck her senseless. To be moving her gorgeous body down on his cock repeatedly. Make her cum for him. Make her cum so hard she didn't know any name but his. Needed to make her beg for him. 

Ethan looked up at her sliding her blouse and bra straps down, helping her tug the bra downwards so her breasts slipped out in the most perfect way. He squeezed one, tweaking her nipple between his finger and his thumb. His dick stirred in his pants at the feeling of her flesh in his hand. He moaned against her without meaning to, showing his true weakness for her body. She reached to grab the hand holding her breast, throwing her head back with a whine, holding his hand firm on her. She needed his touch everywhere.

With her head in space, she barely noticed him standing until his cologne washed over her senses, finally registering her movement. She let out another gasp as Ethan grabbed the back of her neck, leaning down close to finally rest his lips on her own, kissing her slowly. She clutched at his blazer while he kissed her deeply, swiping her tongue on his just to further stir that fire in her belly. Somewhere inside herself she fell deeper, not so much into the kiss, but into him. So much so that she pulled back, resting her forehead against his for a break, pushing her bare dripping pussy to his slacks that were pulled tight from his bulge. 

“Are you going to fuck me, Mr. Dolan?” she hummed, her finger tracing the outline of his strong jaw, leaning in to peck at his heated cheeks. 

“No, Y/n.” 

“But why?” she pouted, unsatisfied with his answer. Her best puppy dog eyes followed her whining, eyelashes batting at him again. 

“Because, angel, you’re going to fuck me,” he decided, some how convincing himself that’s the answer to his problem, “come here.” His hands are on her hips once again, tugging them both back to his chair, falling messily onto the cushion, but neither seemed to notice, or much less care. 

Y/n went to straddle Ethan’s lap right away, frowning and blinking fast when he pushed her navel away with a bit of force. The frown was replaced with a delighted smirk when he tugged his belt free. 

“Turn around,” he demanded, unmoving while he waited for her to obey him. Realizing he was waiting she complies, rising from his lap and turning around, feeling his hands back on her waist, caressing her skin while she hovered over his lap, legs spread. 

He couldn't pull himself out of his pants fast enough, growling in frustration and sighing in content when he was finally released from the restricting fabric. His underwear followed soon after, a shudder running through his shoulders at how good it felt to be free. His greedy hand wrapped around his length, jerking it while she waited for his command, rubbing his thumb over his reddened tip, his breath catching in surprise as his cock twitched in his own fist. It was driving her wild, hearing his own hand moving against his own length, wanting it to be so deep in her that she let out a pathetic “Daddy hurry.” Oh God what he would do to hear that again. So genuine and sweet. That word did something to him he just couldn't understand. 

Letting go of his cock for a moment, he gripped her hips, ushering her slowly down onto him. She caught on quickly, grabbing the hand holding her side, feeling his cock pushing into her. She stopped halfway down, stuttering on her own moan, taking a second to relish at his size. She was stretched out good, so full already, she didn't know how she had it so easy the last time. Ethan grunted at her stalled hips, wrapping her ponytail around his fist, yanking her head back so her neck was exposed and her ear was level with his mouth. 

“Take all of me,” he growled, “I know you fucking can. I’m only halfway baby.” 

“I ca- Daddy! Oh fuck!” she squealed, grabbing at his hand with a tremor, “You’re so big.” 

“You got this. Take me slow,” he grunted, pushing her hips down slowly, biting his own lip at how she clamped down tight around him. She cried as he bottomed out, hitting a place inside her she didn't even know existed, wiggling on his lap. This is what she wanted. She wanted him deep, fucking up into her guts with pants spilling from his mouth every few seconds, hands leaving bruises from how tight he gripped her hips. She loved this shit. 

She swallowed down another cry as she began to roll her ass back to him, using his knees to steady her while she slid up and down his cock. Slowly at first, appreciating the feeling of his cock impaling her in the most delicious way. No man has ever affected her the way that he does. Her ass bounced against his stomach, a slap echoing throughout the classroom, her pussy continuing to clench around him like a death grip. Both of them loving the wet filthy noise of their dirty little secret. She could feel her dainty ‘angel’ necklace bounce against her chest every time she sunk down on him, loving the irony of the situation. From the corner of her eye she could see her heels and socks somewhere underneath his desk. 

Ethan took the time to undo the rest of her bra, snapping the clasp open and sliding the straps down her arms. With the bra falling to the floor, her breasts were soon covered once again by his greedy hands, palming them as she rode him. She leaned back into his front, giving him a view of her front at she bounced back on him. He moaned at the sight of her flesh bouncing in his hands, pinching her nipples lovingly. Y/n let out the loudest moan yet, jumping when his hand reached up to smack over her mouth, silencing her. She continued to moan into his hand, tears running down her cheeks and into his palm, his other hand reaching around to rub at her clit. 

Within an instant she came, without really meaning to it seemed. Lurching forward in his lap, he was quick to catch her shaking body. A full body orgasm was the only way to describe it. Dropping her head forward, she bit lightly at his palm, trying her hardest not to scream out into the empty room of desks. It was too tempting to shout his name to the heavens. Just to let her dear Lord and savior know what she had done. 

“Oh my fucking God,” she breathed, dropping back against his front to circle her hips, mewling in his lap. So fucking good, she thought to herself. But Ethan wasn't done with her yet. Within a second he had her bent back over his desk, her ass up in the air as he sunk back into her cunt, taking him deep and hard. Her fingers digging into the wood in desperation as he ruined her, thrusting and rolling at an incredible pace. 

He couldn't stop himself from bringing his hand down to her ass again, jiving his hips into her over and over again. He stilled for a moment, breathing staggered and erratic, but choked on his spit when she started fucking herself back on his cock, refusing to let that high fade away when she was so close to that beautiful euphoria once again. 

“You’re doing so good - that’s right fuck yourself with my cock you dirty bitch,” he groaned, hand smacking the stinging skin of her ass, “can’t handle it can you?” 

She shakes her head, but her hips never stop moving. Her hands steady herself on the surface of the desk, more leverage to rock her hips back to hear that smack of their skin meeting. Her walls flutter just as his nails run down her back, scratching at her, needing to express just how much she was affecting him. He was losing it, moaning loud in her ear. He’s moving his hips once again, harder, more force put into his movements, railing her into the desk with a locked jaw and a furrowed brow. 

He’s climbing up the hill, grabbing her hands to hold them to the lower part of her back, wanting that complete control he craved so much. His stomach clenched and he knew what was coming just as he fell off the edge, knowing she was right there with him. He came hot and deep inside her, pumping himself through their climaxes, screaming her name out, his moans mixed with hers into a beautiful melody. He sighed to himself, collecting his bearings like he’d passed out, looking down at her still rocking back on him slowly, so addicted to the feeling of him she couldn't stop. 

She laid there quietly to get her breathing under control, afraid to turn around and see what would surely be one of the most beautiful sights she’s ever seen - Ethan post climax. Big, sweaty, powerful. She waited for him to slip his cock from her still clenching hole, wincing from the lack of him. He looked down at himself, covered with both of their messes, smiling to himself. 

He guided her around to sit back down on the desk, fitting himself between her legs and cupping her face in his hands - a strong wave of affection washing over him for the young girl he’d just fucked speechless. He kissed her, really kissed her. Took his time moving his lips in sync with hers, shushing her as she tried to speak through it - wanting to know if he was satisfied and if he regretted it. He knew if he spoke he would have to admit that he didn't. He didn't regret a damn thing. It was so wrong but so right all at the same time. He just focused on sweet little Y/n, with her hands holding his forearms, breath-taken by the deepest kiss she’s ever experienced. It was something she was going to miss as soon as it ended, the way they fit like puzzle pieces. 

He was pulling away far too soon her liking, smiling when she leaned forward to capture his lips again, sucking at his tongue and then his bottom lip, drinking him in as long as she could before the fairytale had to come to an end again. 

With her feet flat on the ground, she dressed herself quickly, knowing the bell would ring soon and the rest of the girls would flood the hallways like roaches, ruining this perfect moment for her. They watched each other as they dressed, neither wanting to look away for too long. It was bittersweet. She redid her hair in a high ponytail, knowing she would take shower next period in her gym class, but still didn't want to look like she was just railed into a desk by her teacher. That wouldn't be good on any spectrum. 

She rolled up the sock on her left leg, finally standing straight to look at his face deep in though. 

Oh no, she thought to herself, already knowing what he is going to say before he opens his mouth. 

“You know this can’t happen again right?” There is was, the cussed denial he keeps putting himself into. It almost made her laugh, because even he didn't sound like he believed himself. But she gave him points for his effort. You don't kiss people like that if you never want it to happen again. 

“Mmhm,” she nodded, playing along with a pout. Without anything other than a hum she leans into a bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper, peeling off the corner, grabbing the nearest pen, and writes something on the scrap. He watches her closely, wanting to know what on earth she could be writing after what they had just done, but not daring to say a word. It would hurt too much. 

She clicks the pen closed, turning to him while swinging her backpack over her shoulder, holding out the small white piece of paper for him to grab. With a nervous hand he grabs the note just as she’s leaning in to kiss him, lips landing on his and sending him into a frenzy once again. He cups her face, sealing his lips to hers and drinking her in before she pulls away. It’s the last time of course. 

“Oh and just for you know...future reference...this classroom is kind of...dreary isn't it?” she smirked down at him, watching him take in the phone number written messily on the ripped paper, a little heart following the seven digits in the most innocent way. He stared down with a tongue running over his lips, tasting her on him for the last time that day. 

He looked up long enough to see her disappear through the door again, off to her next class, leaving him distraught, confused, and most of all - totally and completely hooked. 

Tagged: @dolandolll​ @livelongdolan​ @dolandares @graysavant​ @i-love-the-dolantwins​ @s100204​ @zeusgrayson​ @episkygrant​ @confettidols​ @dopedoodes​ @yungbludsswegd​ @aquadolan​ @jjustjoy​ @vilealmond​ @godolan​ @stayalivw​ @callllumhood​ @ryxgrantdolan​ @dolanpornhub​

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