#posting at quarter past midnight

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Day 22: Human Weapon / Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

@febuwhump prompt Alt 4: Human Weapon @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Omega, Crosshair, Hunter Set when they are all living happily on Pabu Word Count: ~2440 Read Here on A03

Synopsis: Omega wants to celebrate her friend's birthday, and finds out Crosshair's thoughts on the subject.

100% inspired by the fact I baked cupcakes for Season 3 launch day

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Crosshair leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Omega through eyed narrowed in suspicion. The clone girl was up to her elbows in ingredients, packets and boxes discarded messily around her as she focussed with forceful concentration on the large mixing bowl.

Omega’s hands, arms and apron were all streaked with powdery white debris from where she had tipped the bag of flour with too much enthusiasm, and she spread the mess to her face when she tried to wipe her hair out of her eyes with the back of her arm.

“I don’t know why you’re going to all this trouble,” Crosshair said with a deprecating edge of boredom to his voice. “What’s the point?”

He reached out and snagged a party snack from a nearby platter, cubes of cheese and pineapple skewered neatly on wooden cocktail sticks. Omega smacked his retreating hand with the back of her mixing spoon; he grinned unrepentantly and held her gaze whilst devouring the dainty snack and turning the cocktail stick in his mouth like a toothpick.

“Crosshair! Those are for the party guests!” Omega scolded, putting down her current utensil and whisking the platter out of Crosshair’s reach.

Crosshair merely shrugged, licking the batter residue of her assault from his hand before folding his arms.

“And the point is, it’s Lyana’s birthday! We’re going to celebrate. I told Shep I would make the cake.”

“You don’t know how to make cake,” said Crosshair bluntly.

Omega grit her teeth and returned to her bowl, starting to mix again. “That’s why I’m following a recipe,” she told him, in the tone of voice one uses with someone struggling to grasp a simple concept.

Crosshair scooped up a broken eggshell and inspected it. It had taken Omega five minutes to fish the remnants of the shell out of the cake batter earlier when she had misjudged the force needed to crack the egg into the bowl.

“Still don’t see why you’re bothering,” he said, turning to toss the eggshell into the bin with precision accuracy. “It’s not like Lyana’s ever going to do something like this for you.”

“Why not?” said Omega grumpily.

“You’re a clone,” was Crosshair’s flat reply. “Clones don’t have birthdays.”

Omega paused in her task, looking up at him with wide brown eyes.

“Birthdays are a stupid nat-born tradition,” continued Crosshair, glaring about at the mess in the kitchen. “All this fuss over one day. They get older every day, and yet make such a noise about marking this one day in particular.” He jabbed a finger in Omega’s direction. “You don’t have a birthday. Lyana is never going to make cake for you. So why bother doing this for her?”

For a moment Omega just stared at him, mouth hanging open in shock as she processed his unexpected diatribe. Then she returned to her mix with renewed ferocity, scraping the spoon along the edges of the bowl and scooping the batter out into the waiting cake tin.

“We get decanted,” she said, a little crossly. “That’s like being born.”

Crosshair barked a bitter laugh. “What are you going to do, celebrate your decanting anniversary?”

“I could!” Omega snapped back, fixing him with a glare before returning to levelling the cake batter. “We all could! Some of Echo’s reg friends from the 501st do. I heard him talking to them about it. They invited him to Coruscant, but he couldn’t go because Tech was upgrading the Marauder.”

Crosshair sniffed and tightened his arms across his chest. Omega didn’t miss the defensive movement, or the way his shoulders rose towards his ears with ill-concealed tension.

Taking a deep breath, Omega shook her thoughts and concentrated on the next step in the cake procedure. She carefully sheathed her hands in the protective heat-mitts before opening the oven, and even more carefully lifted the cake tin down onto the wire shelf.

When she straightened up she took the mitts off and threw one of them at Crosshair.

“Why don’t you want to celebrate your decanting day?” she asked, in that special voice he knew she saved for when she wouldn’t back down from a fight. “What’s so bad about it?”

“For starters, I’m an elite clone commando, not a child,” Crosshair drawled, and the second mitt followed the first. Crosshair dodged, but didn’t break a smile. His face had settled into a familiar frown that they had been seeing less of of late, and Omega paused and walked round to stand beside him instead.

“You can tell me, Crosshair,” she said, leaning her shoulder against his side. He didn’t respond immediately, so she let her head rest against his upper arm as well. “Why don’t you want to talk about your decanting day?”

Crosshair huffed and shrugged her off, so she returned to standing, looking up at him expectantly. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, teeth clenching hard around the toothpick as he chewed on his answer.

“I don’t know about the regs,” he said at length, voice soft and sibilant above the hum of the oven, “but for enhanced clones, your decanting day anniversary was a day for the Kaminoans to take you and test you, measure you, make sure you were developing as expected…” He trailed off, shaking his head sharply as though it could dispel the memories. He scrunched his eyes shut, head dropping forwards. “It was a convenient day for them to check you were on target. If you weren’t performing adequately, or if they found a defect…”

When he trailed off Omega reached out tentatively, trying to rest her small, messy hand over his. Crosshair flinched his hand out of reach.

“We were designed to be human weapons,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Decanting day was when they performed their quality control checks.”

Omega could see the tremor that had set up in his tall frame, and made another attempt to capture his hand. This time she twined her sticky cake-batter fingers through his, taking his arm from where it was folded across his chest and letting it drop between them as they stood side by side, both looking forwards at the messy kitchen counter rather than at each other.

“I’m sorry that you had to be scared of that, Crosshair,” she said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as she spoke.

Crosshair’s fingers twitched in return. He didn’t return the pressure of her hand, but it was something, and at least this time he wasn’t trying to pull away.

“We’re on Pabu now,” Omega continued, her voice lighter. “No more tests. For any of us.” She gave a small smile. “Just Lyana’s birthday party.”

Crosshair grunted a noise that might have been agreement. Then he took his hand back from hers, wiping the stickiness off on her shoulder.

“Ew, Crosshair!” Omega protested. “I’m wearing an apron for a reason!”

“You should clean up this mess before Hunter gets home,” said Crosshair, gesturing at the kitchen. “Maybe wash the flour out your hair too.”

Omega heaved a sigh, brushed her hands down the front of her apron, and began to clean up.

*

“Crosshair, the cake… it’s stuck…”

Crosshair peered over with feigned disinterest. Omega shook the cake-tin hard, only for the top of it to break away and land in a fragmented pile on the cooling rack, whilst the base stayed resolutely stuck inside the cake tin.

Omega gasped in dismay and turned the tin over, inspecting the damaged remains of her baking attempt. Crosshair picked up the datapad she had been using, skimming the recipe.

“Did you remember to grease the cake tin before you poured the batter in?” he asked drily.

Omega groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I’m going to have to do the whole thing again.”

“Looks like it.” Crosshair checked the chrono on the datapad. “Better hurry it up, too. You haven’t got long before the party.”

Reluctantly, but with a sense of urgency, Omega began to retrieve the baking ingredients and equipment she had so carefully stowed and washed up. Crosshair watched with the faintest smile as she began the process again.

*

Lyana’s birthday party went late into the night. Long after the children were dozing the adults sat and talked and drank and laughed.

Omega curled up at the end of Lyana’s bed, both girls chatting before conversation lapsed into sleepy yawns, and eventually quiet. Omega was vaguely aware of the door opening, and being lifted from her position on top of Lyana’s covers and held close against a warm, familiar torso.

“Kid’s tired out,” came Hunter’s voice, his usually gruff tone softened with a smile.

“Worked herself to exhaustion baking two birthday cakes,” came a snarky, sibilant reply, and Omega smiled into Hunter’s shoulder at Crosshair’s presence.

The gentle swaying motion of being carried against Hunter’s body was enough to keep her lulled at the edge of sleep, but the cool night air tugged at her consciousness to stop her dropping off completely. Omega nestled closer to Hunter’s chest and kept her eyes closed as she listened to the brothers talk.

“Omega wants her own birthday celebration,” Crosshair told Hunter after a while. He sounded dubious as he said it.

Hunter breathed a snort. “What for?”

“That’s what I said. She said we should celebrate our decanting day anniversary.”

A ripple of tension passed through Hunter’s body. Omega stilled her breath, listening to the way his heart-rate spiked. Her fingers curled a little in his scarf, and she hoped he hadn’t noticed she was awake.

“Hardly a day to celebrate,” muttered Hunter.

Omega felt them slow to a halt. She risked peeking one eye open, trying to see what was happening. Hunter was staring distantly at the dark ocean around the island, and Crosshair was stood beside him with one hand on the back of his brother’s shoulder, thumb rubbing soothingly up and down the nape of Hunter’s neck.

“You’re still here,” he murmured. The hand stilled, then squeezed his shoulder.

“Almost wasn’t,” breathed Hunter softly.

Crosshair’s voice was neutral. “I know.”

A few moments of silence. Then Hunter drew a shuddering breath and started walking again.

“So Omega wants a decanting day party.”

“Yeah.”

A short head-shake.

“I don’t know. It brings back a lot of memories.”

They stopped again. Now Omega felt herself being lifted from Hunter’s arms, before Crosshair gently laid her down on a bench.

She opened her eyes and watched as Crosshair returned to his brother, folding both arms around him and drawing him into a close embrace. Hunter buried his face in Crosshair’s shoulder, hands grabbing fistfuls of his brother’s shirt, and Cross stroked one hand through Hunter’s hair, humming soothingly.

“We’re on Pabu now,” he whispered, and Omega recognised her own words. “No more tests. For any of us.”

*

Crosshair tilted the mixing bowl towards Omega, an annoyed scowl on his face. “Is this mixed enough?”

Omega rolled her eyes and pushed the bowl back to him. “No! Look, you can still see lumps of butter, and all these sugar crystals. It has to be beaten properly.”

“What does that even mean?” growled Crosshair in annoyance.

“It means mix until smooth and fully combined,” Omega told him patiently. “When that’s done, you can add the eggs.”

“At least I’ll remember to grease the tin,” the sniper muttered as he returned to beating the mixture. Omega leaned her elbows on the counter, watching him with a smile.

“Why did you decide you wanted to learn to bake, anyway?” she asked cheerily.

An uncharacteristic flush spread across Crosshair’s cheeks and he narrowed his eyes, concentrating fully on the task in front of him. “No reason,” he said, a lie so obvious it made it hard to question.

Crosshair’s impatience was clear as Omega talked him through the rest of the recipe, including turning up the temperature on the oven in the hope that the cake would cook faster. Omega rescued the situation when she smelled the charcoal scent of burning batter, turning the oven back down and opening the door to let the curling smoke escape.

Crosshair glared at the finished cake, blackened round the edges, as it cooled on the wire rack.

“It’s awful,” he declared in annoyance.

“It’ll be fine once you cut these bits off,” said Omega, sawing at the burnt sections with a knife. “Or, you could start again–”

“This one will be fine.”

*

Crosshair tracked Hunter down to the docks, where the former sergeant was helping unload the fishing vessels as they came in. He grabbed his brother without explanation, pulling him to one side.

“What’s the matter, Crosshair?” asked Hunter, concerned, a feeling which only grew when Crosshair refused to meet his eyes.

“I made this for you,” muttered the sniper sullenly, extending a shallow card box about a foot across. Hunter took it with a puzzled look.

“Open it then,” snapped Crosshair, turning away and folding his arms. His frame was written with the kind of tension that spoke of protecting vulnerabilities, and Hunter raised his eyebrows in soft amusement.

Cracking open the box lid did nothing to ease his confusion. “You got me a cake?” he asked, then recalled his brother’s words. “You… made me a cake.”

He lifted the lid all the way off, inspecting the trimmed edges, still crusted with a small burnt sections here and there. The top of the cake had been messily iced with an uneven layer of buttercream, but on top of that in a contrasting icing colour was a very precisely piped version of his familiar half-skull tattoo.

“It’s stupid,” said Crosshair quickly, like he needed to insult his own creation before Hunter could. “But I thought…”

He trailed off, then fished a toothpick out of his pocket and chewed on it anxiously.

Hunter waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t he prompted, “What did you think, Cross?”

Crosshair huffed in annoyance, glaring out over the sea as he spoke. “It’s your decanting day,” he muttered. “I thought… maybe if I made it special, maybe if you had a cake, like a nat-born birthday… then it’d be a nicer thing for you to think about than remembering the year you were almost decommissioned.”

Hunter looked at the cake for a moment, then up at his brother, a soft smile touching the corners of his lips.

“Did you bring a knife to cut it with?”

The relieved exhale Crosshair gave released some of the tension from his frame. “You… you want to eat it?”

Hunter grinned and nudged his shoulder to his brother’s.

“Yeah,” he said, “but only if I can share it with you.”

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday22 #febuwhumpalt4 #human weapon #badthingshappenbingo #worked themselves to exhaustion #posting at quarter past midnight #because anytime after midnight is technically febuwhump day 22 morning #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #omega and crosshair #hunter and crosshair #baking cakes on pabu #what more can you want

[chryseis]

too many miles to count

Royai Week 2023 Day One: Raison d’être

“Our daughter is a fighter, like her mother,” Roy said, only half a jest. 

Riza laughed softly, and Roy drowned happily in the sound.

Read on AO3

#royaiweek23 #royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist #fma #my writing #i stared at this for so long i just need to post it lmao #it's a quarter past midnight so it's a tiny bit late

[mydetheturk]

sharing a teaser for wip wednesday i do NOT give a fuck if its past midnight i haven't gone to bed so its still wednesday because i will never finish this if i don't get shamed into finishing it

~~~

Day five was the worst of the lot, and Wolfwood had enough. He was going to get Vash to calm the fuck down if he had to sit on Vash to do so.

He had to sit on Vash to do so.

“Hey. Beautiful.” Wolfwood was in Vash’s lap, pinning Vash to the bed with his weight. Vash was trembling lightly, agitated and full of energy. Wolfwood’s knees were tight against Vash’s narrow hips. Vash’s hands settled on Wolfwood’s hips. “C’mon, pretty, focus on me.”

Vash’s preternaturally blue – Plant blue – eyes snapped directly to Wolfwood, unblinking and steady. They held a faint glow, and Wolfwood had learned that shining a light into them triggered a light show. A shiver traveled down Wolfwood’s spine that he did his best to hold in.

Vash blinked. Once.

“There we are, beautiful.”

“You keep calling me that,” Vash said. He still didn’t blink.

“You are.” Wolfwood cupped Vash’s face in his hands, thumbs dusting over Vash’s cheekbones. Vash’s eyes fluttered closed, but his expression pinched, just a tick. “Shh, beautiful, don’t give me that look.” Vash opened his eyes again, but only halfway. “There we are.” Vash turned his head, pressing his lips to the center of Wolfwood’s palm. “Sap.”

Vash chuckled. “You like it, though,” he said. His lips danced across Wolfwood’s palm, Wolfwood’s skin tingling from the friction.

“Yeah. I do.” Wolfwood tipped Vash’s face out of his palm to pull Vash up to kiss him properly. Vash’s grip tightened, not to the point where Wolfwood would have to worry about a bruise lingering on his skin, but just at the edge of pain.

Vash hummed into Wolfwood’s kiss, lips parting to nip at Wolfwood’s mouth. He pulled away, Wolfwood’s lip briefly caught in his teeth. Vash’s teeth were sharp, but he didn’t bite hard enough to draw blood.

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun #myde writes #not me posting vashwood fic snippets at a quarter past midnight #i want to write more 'unsettlingly just off human' vash and that is my AGENDA #wolfwood's in danger and he LIKES it that way #please reblog so someone can shame me into finishing this #yes it is intended to be smutty #>:3

[twelvefifteencomic]

It’s a quarter past midnight as we cut through the city...

Dee Loveless is having a weird night. A gig he was hired to sing at turned out to be an evil cult, kidnappings and haircuts and drag queens abound, and it turns out magic is real. And really dangerous.

-

12:15 is my web comic based on Quarter Past Midnight (and the Doom Days album) by Bastille. It’s all complete now, so you can read it all from the beginning HERE!

#twelvefifteencomic #bastille #Quarter past midnight #web comic #artists on tumblr #since i finished the bonus comic i felt like posting a lil ad #doom days

[anguis-sapphire]

I keep wondering why the dashboard is so active and then I have to remember it’s not even midnight yet for a lot of the people I follow

#(it is currently quarter past five in the morning for me) #(I’m tired already) #(I couldn’t go to sleep until gone midnight) #a call from the void #posts made by me #I hope everyone is having fun

[safyresky]

So I don't know if I'll have Chapter 29 ready for next week (low key thinking of pushing 28 to give my me a bit more time) but it is SO IMPORTANT to me that you all know that Winter takes one look at Carol and goes "this woman needs friends that are not elves" and immediately resolves to introduce her to the other seasons

#dani speaks #crystal springs #cs posting #cs facts #and that's how carol becomes friends with ALL THE SEASONS #in winter voice: you're welcome #anyway. gonna try to break past the scene i am stuck on in 29 tonight #she says at apparently A QUARTER TO MIDNIGHT?!?!?! #wish me luck! send good vibes and prayers!!!! i have had a hARD TIME WRITING THIS WEEK and last week too

[joelsgreys]

baby, i’m yours

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50’s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

main masterlist l fic notifs

Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.

“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.

“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”

“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.

Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.

He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.

Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.

Baby, I'm yours

and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky

yours until the rivers all run dry

in other words, until I die

He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.

Joel wants to be annoyed. 

Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.

You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.

Baby, I’m yours

and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines

yours until the poets run out of rhyme

in other words, until the end of time

Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.

Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.

Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.

Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.

“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.

“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”

Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”

“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.

Fucking Christ. 

You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?

Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.

For being so, so fucking good for him.

He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really. 

You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.

He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.

Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?

He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.

You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.

The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.

“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”

Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.

Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”

“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”

Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.

“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.

Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.

Could it be that you’re actually content with him?

Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis. 

“I’m gonna stay right here by your side

do my best to keep you satisfied

nothing in this world can drive me away

‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”

It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”

You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”

Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.

“Because I don’t want anyone else.”

“You deserve better.”

You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”

“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”

“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”

Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”

His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.

“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”

His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”

You sigh.

“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”

The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.

You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”

“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”

Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.

It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.

Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.

After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”

“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”

It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.

He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”

“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.

Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.

“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”

You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”

You say it over and over again and he believes it.

He finally fucking believes it.

Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.

“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”

“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”

When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.

“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”

Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

Joel grins. “And your point is?”

You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel fic

[drlavenderpepper]

hi there i was out having a social life somehow!

#had to turn my phone off at half past nine cause it was about to die #turned it back on just a sec ago. it's quarter to midnight #i got dangly earrings that have major revenge vibes and also some patches and pins for my jacket #and stickers for my laptop. oh and a gigantic temporary tattoo #and then my friend and i went to the only cafe that was still open and would be until half past 11 #and we talked about queerness and gender for two hours nsfdhdf #and now i get to catch up on the mcr posts. now this is the gay lifestyle babey #lavender rambles

[shamless-bee]

Morning baby

Ghost x Afab!Reader

After coming home from hanging out with the lads, ghost finds his baby sleeping in his shirt and some panties; he can’t help but eat you up~

MDNI (18+ only)

Warnings~ slightly cnc if you squint (Reader is sleeping in the beginning), awakened with sexual touching, boozy!Ghost, oral f!Receiving, fingering, rough sex, P.I.V, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it.), just in general super smutty, and this gets away from me~

Dear reader

If any of the warnings above bother you, please don’t engage with this post; if you continue and find other warnings I should mention, please let me know, reader has female anatomy, but reader is referred to as you. (Also I didn’t proof read this)

Word count~ 1.6k

Please do not repost as your own, share on other platforms or plagiarize. Explore your creativity~

Reblog if you enjoy!

You were waiting patiently on the bed for Simon to get home from the pub. He rarely gets time to himself and the boys from T.141 outside of missions and bloodshed, so it didn’t bother you as much as it could have when you noticed it was half past midnight.

You sighed deeply through your nose and felt your eyelids getting heavy. You tried to stay awake, hoping to see Simon home before falling asleep, but your eyes slowly drifted closed. Before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

-

It was a quarter after two in the morning when Simon unlocked the front door to your shared flat. He grunted out softly as he did his best to unlace his boots; his dark eyes looked around the entrance of the flat, the TV off in the living room and the kitchen unoccupied; he often found you there making sweets; it was one of your favorite hobbies to make cupcakes and cookies.

He quietly walked further into the flat and ripped off the balaclava from his head, his sandy blonde hair messy; he didn't think he drank that much but could still feel a lingering numbness from the alcohol consumed tonight; he rubbed his rough hands softly over his face trying to sober up cursing Johnny in the process for wanting to see who could hold out longer.

He went to the bedroom, hoping to find you reading or perhaps even touching yourself. He loved coming home to the lewd sounds of your wet fingers touching your needy little cunt and the whimpers you moan, and the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue. His mind was already swimming in lust as he made it past the door into the bedroom, finding you sleeping on top of the covers of the bed.

His eyes lingered on you, wearing his black shirt that almost completely covered you. If it weren’t for the fact your legs are slightly spread, revealing the thin fabric of your panties covering your mound. His mouth was almost salivating as his dark eyes devoured you.

He couldn’t help his mind getting more excited when his touch fingertips slowly brushed down your exposed leg; you let out a soft moan from the touch, and his eyes darted back to your face only to see you were still sleeping, his hand softly caressing your leg giving it a soft squeeze and before he can stop himself he hooks both his thumbs under the waistband of your panties slowly bringing them down your legs.

Simon softly grunts as he looks at your moist folds, his mouth watering; he slowly pushes your legs apart as he sets his head between them, his tongue pressing to your clit, Simon feels your body stir, but you still haven’t awakened just yet, he smirks before he laps from your hole to your clit slowly, giving your clit a little suck. A soft moan leaves your mouth, eyes still closed, his hands now gripping your thighs while his tongue works on your clit.

You start panting in your sleep, another moan passing through your lips into the quiet room. He grunts softly into your mound as he tastes more of your arousal. He feels your body stirring more before your eyes start to flutter open.

“S-Simon?” You whimper out as the sensation between your legs grows; you see his head first in your cunt as you try to sit upright with your arms. He kisses your clit, earning another soft moan from you before moving his head away from your soaked cunt

“Morning baby,” his rough voice hits your ears softly. Before he returns to giving your cunt another long lick from your hole to your clit once again

You weren't expecting to be treated like this once he got home, but you’re not complaining as his mouth works on you skillfully; soft moans continue to spill past your lips; to him, the sound is heavenly. One of his hands left your thigh, and his finger dipped into your soaked hole, his fingers curling with each thrust to hit your perfect spot.

“Simon!” You moaned as your fingers found their way into his hair, softly gripping onto it as your hips jerked towards him, a familiar knot forming in your lower stomach.

He grunts against your clitoris, sending a wave of electricity through you, your walls gripping onto his fingers, the sound of your arousal and lewd wetness from your cunt getting louder as his fingers start to move faster into you, he knew you were close, and he wanted so badly to tip you over the edge, to taste your sweet release on his fingers after he’s made you come undone.

Your back starts to arch as the knot becomes intense; he moves his other hand from your thigh to the right under your knee, forcing your leg towards yourself as he enters a second finger into your already dripping cunt, his fingers moving more roughly inside of you as he starts to suck on your bud.

You scream out his name as you come undone, your fingers tugging roughly at his hair, seeing stars in your vision. His fingers don’t slow down; he wants you to ride your high as long as he can push you

“O-oh fuck y-yes,” you scream as your legs shake, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head. He slows the movements of his fingers as your high ends; he sits up to look at you, a panting mess, his dark eyes locking onto your half-closed ones, your face flushed. He doesn’t stop himself from moving his fingers into his mouth, a groan coming from his throat as he sucks his fingers clean from your juices. He smirks after he takes them out of his mouth.

“I’m not done with you yet, baby.” His voice is thick with lust as he quickly tugs off his belt and unzips his pants; his thick hard cock springs to attention, already dipping with his arousal.

Your mind is already foggy; being awakened with him between your legs and having an intense orgasm has clouded your mind. You softly hum, almost falling asleep again; his hands grip your waist, pulling you towards him, a soft scream escaping your lips from such sudden movement.

“I’m going to fuck the living hell out of you,” he growled close to your ear as he hicks your legs onto his clothed chest, his buff arms on either side of your head; before you could comprehend what was said, you feel the tip of his cock already at your entrance, and with a quick movement of his hips he slams his cock deep inside your cunt, you walls clenching around him as a gasp leaves you, you always felt so full when his cock was barred deep inside you

He growls, his head dropping as he circles his hips, wanting to ensure he has stuffed you as completely as he can with his cock. He can feel your walls twitch around him before he brings his hips back and slams into you again, another moan echoing through his ears. He’s unable to hold himself back any longer, his eyes hungry for more; he pounds into you relentlessly, your hands now digging into the duvet, his balls slap into your ass with each quick thrust he slams into you

“Fucking take my cock, baby; you always take it so well,” he rasps as he continues plowing into you. You can’t help but moan; you loved when he got so rough with you, his dirty words always making you crave more of him.

“Fuck” he yells out, his hand moving around your neck as he starts to choke you, your eyes once again going to the back of your head as you become a moaning mess underneath him. You feel the knot once again forming in your stomach, your moans getting drowned out by his grunts and the sound of him slamming into you relentlessly. He can feel your walls tightening around his cock as he fucks you into the bed.

“Don’t you dare cum.” He barks at you, his hand still secure around your throat. “You're not allowed to cum until I say so,” he grunts.

You do your best not to cum as his cock continues to plow into you, your moans becoming louder, your throat becoming scratchy. He can feel your walls get tighter around him as you try to hold onto your orgasm.

“Fuck! Simon, please,” you scream out, your knuckles becoming white as you fist the duvet

“No. Not yet,” he barks at you again. He releases your neck and uses his thumb on your clit, the rough finger moving in circles. He can see the tears forming in your eyes as you do your best to listen to him, not to come undone.

You can feel his cock swell inside of you, his thrusts not halting for a second. “Please, Simon! I can't,” you scream in lustful agony. You can hear his grunts and growls get louder; for a moment, you are positive he is starting to ignore your pleas; he circles your clit fast with his thumb before pinching it harshly

“Cum.” He commands you to let go, your knot coming undone, and he slams his hips into you one last time before he empties his ropes of seed deep inside of you; he feels your walls twitch around his cock as you both reach your highs.

After a few moments, you both panting, he moves off of you and lays beside you on the bed; he turns his head towards you and brings his hand to your face; tucking a hair behind your ear, he pulls you into his chest and kisses the top of your head.

You’re exhausted, and all you hear before you drift into sleep is Simon saying softly, “Goodnight, baby.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost smut #smut #mdni #hornyposting #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #afab reader #afab!reader #simon riley x you

[raapija]

Hi there! I’ve been wanting to read some strollonso fics but don’t know where to start lol, I was wondering if you had any recs? :)

Oh! I definitely do!

I'm a terribly slow reader, but when something catches my interest, I CAN'T STOP, so (under the cut) these are some good ones that I've recently been eating up :>

In My Mind, You Are Safe by fancastik

Warnings: Graphic depiction of crash/accident, depiction of injury, medical treatment/hospital

This will make you cry. It's heartwrenching, but I promise you it's very well written and has a happy ending (at least for now, there's going to be a part 4...). The characterization is insanely good and it will make you want to bang your head against a wall.

Quarter Past Midnight by LilShiro

Warnings: comically small scooter, tiny bit of sexual stuff

Short, sweet, also hurts you a bit... perfect. It's a really good relationship study, with snippets from throughout their time together.

Camera Roll by bottomtxt

Warnings: explicit sexual content

Sexting... Something they do so well. And then of course Nando races to Lance's flat to do it for real. Very tasty... And it has art to accompany it ! (once again advertising bottomtxt as the number one strollonso artist... so... check out the other posts as well, if you like spicy art... 😉)

First Kiss by scrollonso

Warnings: all chapters individually marked if they have warnings :)

I have to admit I'm SO BEHIND on this but the first chapters were SO GOOD ! And we love a good old fashioned alternate timeline fic 💁 Something for if you want a longer series !

I tried to pick fics that are different from one another, hope you find at least something for your own preference here ! 💚

Also, abusing this opportunity to push my own dumb strollonso content on you ! 😈 Check out all my au stuff here 💅✨

#strollonso #fic rec #ask

[someplace-darker]

Kinktober Day 5: Breeding Kink | Harwin Strong

Pairing: Harwin strong x reader (no y/n)

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: 18+, PWP (okay maybe a little bit of plot), breeding kink, dirty talk, riding, probably a serious lack of proper terminology, me changing the plot of house of the dragon for porn reasons, mention of 'lady-in-waiting' but no pronouns are used

Summary: it's been a few weeks since you've been able to have a late night visit with Harwin, and you two have some catching up to do

A/N: i kind of Do Not Like this one and i'm cutting it real close posting this ten minutes before midnight but fuck it we ball. Also Harwin if you see this, know that i will give you more children

Sneaking around the red keep isn’t exactly the most easy of tasks, especially considering what the consequences would be if your intentions were revealed. You were in close relations with the Princess Rhaenyra, yes, but you doubt that would stop Queen Alicent from plucking you of your position as a lady-in-waiting and casting you out onto the streets of King’s Landing. You never did like Alicent, her tongue sounding too close to her father’s at times, and with the recent events you suppose your intuition was correct.

Now isn’t the time for fretting over the kingdom’s current state.

Now, you have to get to Harwin. It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, schedules never lining up long enough to do anything about the yearning you feel in your heart. You duck behind pillars and take the backways through the castle until reaching his quarters. Reaching up to rap quietly at the thick wooden door, praying to the gods that he answers with haste. They must be listening because you’re quickly being pulled into the scarcely lit room, a handful of candles lit around the space. 

“Seven hells, love, you are nothing if not determined. You could’ve been caught,” he chastises but it’s in vain, seeing as his lips are immediately pressing to yours with a tangible fervor. Harwin’s hands slip under your arms to your back, pulling you into his chest with ease. “I would not have been caught, I know the ins and outs of this keep better than I know myself,” you pant against his mouth “besides, I have a Strong and a Targaryen at my side, I’m practically invincible.” 

He chuckles at that, warm baritone thrumming against your chest as his fingers pluck at the strings of your dress, loosening it until it’s able to slip past your shoulders. Once it’s undone Harwin takes the time to tug at the fabric until it pools at your feet, body bared to the cool night air. His line of sight falls to your now exposed chest, not an ounce of shame when his hand comes back around your front, finger following the curve of your breast before letting his palm cover it. 

Reaching up to cover his hand with your own you start walking forward, careful to step out of the dress, forcing him back until he meets the bed. “You’re wearing too much clothing,” you comment, leaning forward to press your lips to the small area of his chest that the worn shirt doesn’t cover. It’s an older shirt you can tell, something meant purely to sleep in, but it’s currently your favorite thing he has ever worn. His chest hair peeks out from the laced V front, collar bones prominent and flushed red under the press of your mouth. 

Harwin hums, gripping the bottom of the tan fabric and pulling it over his head, hair falling back to frame his face. You take the shirt from his grasp and toss it with your dress, attention moving to the ties on his trousers, desperate to remove the final piece between you and what you need most. “Eager, are we?” his voice is all cocky and teasing, lips turned up into a salacious smile. It quickly drops from his face when you get the string undone, hand pressing to his abdomen before trailing down and past the waistline to grip his length. 

“You haven’t filled me in so long,” you sigh, pumping him in your hand and relishing in the grunts he gifts you. 

“Oh?” he gently grabs your wrist and pulls it off his cock, falling back to sit on the edge of the plush mattress, pulling you forward until you’re on his lap. He shimmies his trousers the rest of the way down and taps your ass, silently telling you to lift your hips. “You want me to fill you up so bad, put a babe in you? Fuck you until you carry my child?” The two of you had talked about it before, but never had he been so outright about it. It makes you shiver, and you remind yourself to nod. 

His hands part your thighs wider to make room for him, notching the head of his dick at your entrance until you’re relaxed enough to sink down onto him an inch at a time. “Gods, you feel so good,” you whine, bracing your hands on his shoulders and shakily lowering yourself before raising up to drop back down again. The warmth of his gaze is not lost on you, the filth of your predicament not enough to take the adoration for you out of the forefront of his mind.

Leaning back to watch you work, he catches the tremble in your thighs and takes it upon himself to plant his feet on the ground and thrust up into you. You yelp and he huffs, shushing you gently as if he’s not fucking up into with a force that makes your head thrum. “Stuff you so full that you’ll walk around with me for days. A reminder of whose cum you beg for,” Harwin groans, pulling you down against him each time he pistons into your cunt. 

“Please,” you gasp, threading your hands into his dark curls and leaning forward to press your forehead to his own. You briefly let your eyes flutter shut, savoring this feeling before it ends and you have to return to your own quarters. They call him Breakbones for a reason, his brute strength enough to force any man to submit no matter their title, in your case it’s to pick you up and twist to lay you on your back against the furs. He’s deeper with the change in position, your thighs being pressed to your stomach as he lays his weight on you, bearing down with enough force to knock the wind from your lungs.

Sweat covers the both of you in a thin sheen, room now thick and heavy with the air of sex. He looks near feral like this, hunched over you as his muscles contract with each thrust, scars splattered across his torso from years of fighting. Harwin knows that the only time he gets to use his hands for anything other than violence is when he holds you, and he doesn’t intend to waste a moment of it. 

You move your hand from his bicep to between the two of you, sliding your middle finger down until it meets your clit, circling it until you clamp down around his cock and keen with a burst of light behind your eyelids. The ripple from you is enough to drive him further into your pussy, groaning into the space between your neck and shoulder. Harwin bites down on your skin to muffle his own orgasm, staying true to his word and emptying himself inside of you. 

He noses against your neck, pressing a kiss to the junction of your jaw before pulling out of you with a hiss. “Satisfied?” he jests, brushing his hand over your cheek. Laughing, you push him off of you and onto his back. “For now,” you grin, tucking yourself into his side and laying your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. You let your eyes close with the blanket of gratification, savoring the moment you get with him as you lie together, hidden away from the responsibilities waiting on you with the rising of the sun.

#kinktober #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #harwin strong x reader #harwin breakbones x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones smut #house of the dragon smut #my writing #harwin breakbones #harwin strong #harwin x reader #harwin strong x you

[crappymixtape]

eyes half shut

hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington? | ( 3.9k – a little angst, a little fluff, kinda enemies to kinda lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

E Y E S H A L F S H U T 🎶 dream boy, savannah conley

“Now, please don’t be late, Steven. Jason’s done with his shift right at seven and we don’t want to keep people waiting.” Miss Click tapped on the clipboard in her hand before hanging it back up on the nail hammered into the wall of the booth, “Robin Buckley volunteered to cover the cash register for your shift too! You remember Robin.”

Steve felt his jaw tick with irritation as he tried to hide the grimace on his face, his old History teacher practically beaming at the very mention of his friend. Of course Robin volunteered to run the register. She just wanted a front row seat for what was sure to be the most humiliating night of his life.

“Great. Robin Buckley. A real grade A student,” he said with a forced smile, jamming his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s.

“I thought so too! Such an attentive pupil,” Miss Click agreed before checking her watch. “Oh dear, I need to go check on the cake walk. I’ll see you back here in a few hours, I’m sure we’ll have record donations!” and with that she was off across the football field leaving Steve alone in the small booth to freak out about what he’d just agreed to.

A kissing booth. Great. Perfect. Totally fine.

He definitely wasn’t sore about Tommy getting to run the alumni basketball game instead of him. Wasn’t stressing the fuck out about the idea of having to kiss people for an hour straight. Or worse, kiss no one at all and have to live under a rock for the rest of his life and he totally wasn't going to kill Robin for ‘graciously volunteering’ to take money at his expense.

Loosing a sigh from his chest Steve ran his hands through his hair and kicked at the frame of the wall, KISSING BOOTH written above him. All curly letters and lipstick marks and bright red paint, taunting and teasing him about what would be happening in a few short hours.

It was going to be fine. Totally fine. Steve Harrington could handle a few smooches for charity. Right?

Right?

Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you? You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two. I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you.

Joan Jett was yelling through the speakers of your stereo as you leaned over your dresser, swiping mascara through your lashes in the mirror, trying your best to hurry up and get ready for the Hawkins High Jamboree.

Did you want to go? Absolutely not.

Was your room mate and best friend making you go with her? 100%.

“So, like, are you gonna be ready this century or should I plan on arriving in a coffin? Actually. Steve’s gonna probably put me in one anyway, might be doing him a favor,” Robin mused around her toothbrush from across the hall in the bathroom.

“Hah, are you kidding? That guy came out of the womb as a fully formed show boat. He loves shit like this,” you shot back, shaking your head at the thought of Steve posted up at the kissing booth. A stupid, shit-eating grin pasted on his face. Signature hair all perfectly coiffed. A ridiculously long line of girls just waiting to fawn over him.

“Can’t argue you on the show boat bit, but he’s still totally gonna kill me,” Robin said snorting as she spat her toothpaste into the sink.

You weren’t sure what had happened between senior year and now, but somehow your best friend had also become Steve Harrington’s best friend and it made absolutely no sense.

At first you’d been extremely skeptical, even overprotective of her, and made it a point to tag along with them where ever they were going to make sure he wasn’t going to do something shitty, but much to your chagrin he proved you wrong every single time. He was even nice and somehow made Robin ugly laugh more than you did. How dare he?

“C’mon, I don’t wanna keep Nance waiting, she’s gonna be downstairs soon,” Robin popped her head in through your door and you shot her a grin.

“Ooo, eyeliner. Are you two going out after?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at her and she frowned, cheeks flushed.

“Yeah. Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing!” you held your hands up in surrender and gave her a little smile, “Just–it’s about damn time. You two have been dancing around each other for months.”

Robin was pretty private about her love life, especially after things hadn’t worked out with Vickie, and you were one of the only ones who really got to be in the know. Well. You and Steve, but you had to hand it to him. He at least seemed pretty damn empathetic and supportive in that regard toward Robin and you were thankful to him for it.

“What, are you keeping track?” Robin grumbled, smoothing her shirt down a bit and picking at the chipped black polish on her nails.

“You’re the one with the scoreboard,” you gently teased back, shoving your feet into the Chucks next to your dresser, but then your expression softened as you looked up at her, “You know I’m not. I’d be one to talk anyway, my love life is non-existent.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe you should try. It’s not all bad. Look at me, put myself out there and already have a date,” she said pointedly, scrunching up her nose at you.

“No, thanks,” it was your turn to grumble and you shouldered past her into the hallway.

“Wait. Wait a second. Yes. Yes, thanks!” she said, tone suddenly shifting into the one where you knew she was up to no good.

“Robs, whatever you’re about to say? Don’t,” you grabbed your wallet and chapstick off the kitchen table and turned to fix her with a look. The way she was grinning at you was horrifying. “Oh my god. What?”

“Kiss him,” she said simply and you looked at her blankly.

“What?”

“Put yourself out there! Kiss him!” she said again more enthusiastically and your stomach flipped over.

“Steve? Oh, wow. Let me go ahead and put a ‘hell’ in front of my no. No, Robs. No way,” you crammed your things into your pockets and shook your head, opening the fridge to try and find a beer. Booze suddenly felt very, extremely, necessary.

“Seriously! C’mon! What, are you chicken?” she make a little squawking noise as you cracked open the last beer hiding at the back of the fridge.

“Seriously?” you parroted back, “What, are you twelve? No, I’m not doing it.” You took a long drink from the can in your hand and grimaced as the carbonation fizzed in your nose. Too much.

“If you do, I’ll leave you alone for a whole week,” Robin’s tone was sing-songy, dragging out the vowels as she leaned on the open fridge door and smiled at you all sweetly. Full of mischief.

You waited, took another drink of beer and narrowed your eyes at her. She’d been begging you to go on a double date with her and Nancy and the thought of it made you want to throw up. Not only were double dates super cringy, but one: you didn’t have a boyfriend and two: Robin always suggested Steve and you’d immediately have to shut it down. He was absolutely not your type and there was no way you’d make it more than thirty minutes.

“Two weeks,” you countered, “And if you’re gonna hang out with him it can’t be here.”

“Deal!” she said much too quickly, sticking her hand out to you and you frowned, taking it and shaking it aggressively.

“Great. Deal.” It was just a kiss, right? Not stupid Seven Minutes in Heaven or Spin the Bottle, just cramming a dollar into a jar and a quick peck on the lips and you’d be free from Robin’s meddling for two whole weeks. Worth it.

Buzzzzz.

Someone was at the door, a Nancy Wheeler shaped someone, and the color drained from Robin’s face.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re fine, you look great,” you took another drink of your beer and then offered the last half of it to Robin who finished it off in one go.

“It’s not—“ Robin burped, beer was a bad choice, “—too much?”

“No, it’s not too much. The eyeliner is nice, really brings out the black in your heart. Now let’s get go,” you grabbed the empty can from her hand and tossed it in the recycling before shoving her toward the door.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna kiss Steve,” she said, grin tugging at the corners of her lips and your expression soured.

“Oh my god, just go,” and despite your grumbling, despite insisting on your irritation, all you could think about the entire ride over was a sliver of a memory from last summer.

It was smack in the middle of July. Sun beating down with the intent to fry you alive.

Robin had practically begged you to go get ice cream and it wasn’t like you were gonna say no. It was hotter than hell out, of course you were gonna get ice cream, but then Steve tagged along. Sat across from you in the booth and ordered a strawberry milkshake. Wrapped his perfectly pouted lips around the straw and sipped it slowly. Licked whipped cream from his fingers. Ate the cherry last and looked up at you when he’d pulled it from the stem with his teeth and for a split second all you could think about was him.

What it would taste like. What it would feel like.

What it would be like to kiss Steve Harrington.

“Bye now,” Jason was smiling all saccharine sweet. Pure sugar. Too much and too fake as the girl he’d just kissed slowly backed away from him. Unable to pull her eyes away as he leaned against the frame of the booth effortless and on display for the girls waiting in line, all of them disappointed they hadn’t beat the clock to seven.

And as Steve walked across the field to take Jason’s spot, he audibly groaned watching the other boy soak it all up.

Fuck this. He was not excited, he was not looking forward to this, and he did not want to stand anywhere near a damn kissing booth. Roughing his hands over his face he sucked in a deep breath. It was only an hour. Sixty minutes. It would fly by.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the King!”

Yeah, no. This was going to suck.

“Haven’t used that since Junior year, Carver,” Steve’s voice was flat, unamused, and when he walked up on the line a few of the girls huddled up and started to whisper.

“Ah, c’mon, Harrington. Return of the king! Back on top!” the grin that pulled at the corners of Jason’s mouth grew as he fed off Steve’s negative energy. “C’mon, the ladies love it,” and as he turned back to the line a couple girls toward the end started to walk away, “Oof, guess I’m a hard act to follow.”

Steve jammed his tongue into his cheek, hands balling up at his sides as he eyed the other boy, wanting nothing more than to put a fist into Jason’s face. “It’s for charity, dumbass. Not a damn competition,” Steve grumbled as the other boy pushed himself off the wall of the booth.

“Whatever you say, King Steve. Dropping like flies. Least you’ll get out of here early,” Jason sneered and gave Steve a too-hard clap on the back. Biting down on his lip, Steve struggled to keep himself in check, struggled to keep his hands at his sides until someone else chimed in.

“Carver you better get goin’, gonna be late for Bible study,” Robin walked up on the boys with you and Nancy in tow and gave Jason a too-sweet smile of her own, “Don’t wanna let Jesus down. Well. More than you already have I guess.”

Jason’s face turned beet red and Steve stifled a laugh with a very unconvincing cough, a few scattered giggles coming from the line.

“Shut up, Buckley.”

“Tsk, tsk. How’s it go? Love your neighbor or whatever? Anyway, so nice to see you!” Robin punched him a little harder than she should’ve in the shoulder and walked up behind the counter to take over for Chrissy Cunningham. “Alright, ladies! Now that we’ve taken out the trash – come give the King of Hawkins high a big ol’ smooch and help buy new basketball uniforms! Real win/win here, friends,” her voice was so loud it made people’s heads turn over at the cake walk and Steve wanted to die.

“Jesus, Robin,” he hissed, scrambling over to take up his post under the giant red sign.

Nancy turned to you shaking her head, but smiling all fond over Robin, “I kinda feel bad for him.”

“I don’t,” you said with a laugh, watching the line perk up a bit with Robin’s encouragement as Steve looked like he wanted to pass out, giving the first girl in a line a kiss.

“You know, he’s not that bad,” Nancy said, giving you a nudge with her elbow.

Glancing back over at the booth you saw the second girl walk up and give her dollar to Robin, Steve’s face still flushed and pink, but lips just as pouted and perfect as they’d been that day at the diner. Sipping down strawberry milkshake and pulling the cherry off the stem and you felt your stomach flip over.

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, but Nancy chuckled when she saw how rosy your cheeks had grown.

“Okay, well you better get in line or you’ll have Robin on your ass worse than before,” she reminded you of your deal and you groaned. “It’ll be easy,” she said giving you a grin, “And he really is a good kisser.”

Your blush only deepened with her words and you tried to hide it, throwing your eyes down to your feet and starting to walk away, “Okay, great! Can’t wait. So awesome. Just the best.”

“Relax! It’s just a kiss!” she called over her shoulder as you fell into the last place in line behind someone from your old AP English class, trying very hard to not turn and run away.

At first it was an extremely awkward and uncomfortable exchange of events for Steve.

People would give Robin their money, she’d say thank you in her silly sing-songy Robin voice, and then they’d walk up to Steve and smile. Sometimes it was shy, sometimes it was overly aggressive, and sometimes there’d be a weird pause where they’d just stare at each other. He’d clear his throat nervously or stress about whether or not he should’ve brushed his teeth two more times before he’d left the house, but eventually she’d lean in and they’d kiss and then it’d be over.

It was ridiculous because he used to kiss random girls all the time at parties and shit in high school. Used to love it. Maybe because it stroked his ego. Because he liked showing off. Maybe he didn’t get enough affection at home. Maybe Nancy Wheeler broke his heart and he just wanted to forget, but now? Things were different now. He was different now.

He didn’t sleep around, he didn’t kiss and tell, his dating life was abysmal and this kissing booth just seemed to add insult to injury.

“Steve,” Robin whisper-yelled between customers as if she could tell he was spiraling, “You’re doing great. Only two more to go and you’re done!”

“God, Robin. Please stop talking,” Steve hissed back and gave the next girl a weak, half-hearted smile.

“Just saying–”

“Hi,” Steve cut Robin off and greeted the shorter, blonde girl he recognized from Senior year science. She was second-to-last in line ahead of you and you fought back a laugh, watching the awkwardness unfold.

“Hi, Stevie,” she purred and Steve’s stomach lurched.

Stevie? Oh god. Why?

She’d clearly just applied a fresh layer of shiny, pink gloss right before her turn came up and when she leaned in toward him, Steve waited til her eyes were closed to grimace. What? He wasn’t a monster.

It was slippery and wet and not good, but Steve gave her what he hoped was a friendly enough smile as she pulled away all starry-eyed.

“Maybe see you around? When you’re done?” she asked and he swallowed thickly.

“Yeah! Ye–maybe,” he stuttered and she slipped him a piece of paper with her number on it.

“Call me,” she winked and Steve died.

“Okay, sure. Thanks,” he stumbled over his words and when she finally turned away you watched as he screwed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath.

You caught the words stupid and want to die and you almost laughed, but it fell apart in your throat as the girl walked away and left you there. Last in line and panicking as you suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen next. Why were you just as nervous as he was?

Shaking off the last kiss, Steve was ready to just be done. Only one left Robin said, but when he looked up the pained expression on his face softened.

You.

Robin’s room mate. Her best friend. Her cute best friend. The one who fought him over best friend duties. Who teased him relentlessly and gave him shit all the time. Wasn’t afraid to eat an entire pizza on her own and always ordered a chocolate shake with sprinkles at the diner. Who wasn’t afraid to call him out on things and had a mouth like a sailor. A mouth he’d wanted to kiss more and more every time he saw you, but he could never find the right time to ask or try or make a move and–

“Oh,” fell from him, quiet and surprised and your lips twisted into a little frown.

“Oh,” you said back trying to tease, but it came out sounding a lot more hurt than anything.

Steve’s brows pinched together with worry and he took a step toward you, the most he’d moved all night. “N-no, sorry. I didn’t mean it like…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying hard to put words to what he was trying to say, but they weren’t coming out.

“That’s okay. S’for a good cause, right?” you shrugged and forced a smile.

“Yeah. Right,” he agreed lamely as you crammed a dollar into Robin’s hand with a glare. Two weeks better be worth it.

Then turning back to Steve you took another tiny step toward him and he did the same putting you two dangerously close. Almost toe-to-toe. The scent of fresh laundry and spearmint and boy making you feel dizzy, making you feel dumb, and when you pulled your eyes off the ground to look up at him your breath caught in your throat.

Fuck he was pretty.

That pout. The twin moles on his cheek. The soft slope of his jaw. The way his hair fell messy across his forehead and into his eyes all warm honey, liquid amber, melted caramel. He was making it hard to hold your grudge and you could feel the wall you’d put up around yourself start to crumble.

“So. We just–” you didn’t finish your sentence as he looked down at you, his lips parted, waiting, anticipating.

“Yeah. Yeah, uh–” Steve’s voice was low and made your tummy twist as he shook his head a little and leaned down. Tried to do the same thing he’d been doing all night, but suddenly so damn unsure. He paused, close enough you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek, “Is this–is this okay?”

“Mmhm,” you murmured and you didn’t have to wonder anymore. You were nervous, just like he was was, and it scared the shit out of you.

“Okay, guess I’ll just–” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he closed the gap between you and finally, finally pressed his lips soft and sweet to yours.

And it was everything.

It was slow and curious and a little shy, but the feeling of him against you pushed you to be brave and you tilted your head. Deepened the kiss. Opened for him and he slipped a hand wide and warm and soft at the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair and holding you even closer.

His tongue chased along your bottom lip and you sighed into him, letting him swallow all your soft pretty sounds until you were both breathless and needing air and when he started to pull away you swore you’d give Robin every single bill in your wallet to do it again.

Steve huffed a laugh, hand still holding you gentle at your neck and you bit your lips between your teeth to fight off a grin, too caught up in each other to care about anything else until–

“Yeah, think I’m gonna need another dollar for that one,” Robin was beaming at you two like an idiot and you both fixed her with a look, all sass and attitude.

“Robin,” your voice blended with Steve’s and Robin laughed so hard she snorted.

“Oh my god, please, please make this work. Look at you two. This is ridiculous. Here, go get a drink,” and she fisted a wad of dollars from the register, counting it out and replacing it with money from her own wallet before practically shoving it at Steve.

“What–”

“No, seriously, Harrington. Leave. Get outta here. It’s eight anyway,” Robin cut Steve off and pointed at her watch. Eight on the dot. Kissing Booth closed.

���Uh,” Steve started, looking back over at you with a lopsided smile, “Wanna get a drink?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, hummingbird wings and nerves and a feeling you hadn’t had in a long time. A tiny flicker breathed into flames when Steve pressed his lips to yours and you felt your cheeks warm again at the thought of it.

“For charity?” you teased, trying hard to will your blush away as you pulled your eyes up to meet his.

“No way,” he said, too quick and suddenly his cheeks matched yours. Pink and rosy and warm and you laughed. “No,” he tried again, smile tugging into a smug grin. Just a tiny bit King Steve, but the show of confidence made you weak in the knees, made you want to kiss him again and you grinned right back.

“Okay, but you’re driving. Robs has a hot date,” turning you winked at Robin and her jaw dropped, fighting the urge to dive over the counter and kill you.

“A hot date?” Steve’s eyes grew wide and he reached up to slap at Robin’s hands, “With Nance??”

“I’m late, gotta get this to Click, told her I’d close this up by eight so she could go home,” Robin rambled, trying to pretend like there was so much to do, but failing miserably.

“Have fun!” you teased, throwing her sing-songy tone back in her face, but she ignored you, walking off across the football field still mumbling under her breath.

You looked back to make a joke to Steve, to laugh at Robin, but the sight of him had your words dying in your throat.

"Ready?" he asked, twirling his keys on his ring finger, looking the most relaxed he’d been all night and your heart leapt, hammering against your ribcage. Deep green henley snug across his chest. Dark wash Levi’s hugging all the right places. Hair still messy in his eyes. Those eyes. One hand jammed in his pocket and dirty blue Adidas shifting on the terf, ready to get outta there. Ready to get a drink with you and dammit, Nancy was right.

He was a good kisser.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve fanfic #steve x reader #steve x fem #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic

[alovesreading]

Quarter Past Midnight

Summary: Thanks to your best mate, you’ve found yourself welcoming the New Year at a party one of her bosses is throwing at her new house. Since you stepped foot in the place, your only plan has been to spend the night dancing and drinking with your friends. But it all changes when you find a certain bassist looking at you from across the room. And as the night progresses, and a few kisses are shared, you seem to agree on the fact that you’re leaving the party together.

Word Count: 19.4k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, lots of cursing, suggestive dialogue and smut.

A/N: Hello!!! I'm so excited to finally be posting this one shot since the idea for it was born back when we were writing Chicken Shop Date chapter 6! You know, when Ross disappeared most of the night to socialise... So this is basically the spin off of that part of the story. I'm sorry it took me so long but, then again, it had always been the plan to post it today because it's the one and only @imagine-that-100s birthday and I thought a filthy Ross one shot was the perfect gift for Mrs. MacDonald herself. I hope you all enjoy it loads and remember: keep both hands on the phone!!

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You really fucking love the holidays. It’s probably your favorite time of the year and every gathering that is thrown during this time makes you the happiest.

It’s so much fun spending Christmas and boxing day with your family, but it’s even better to spend New Year’s Eve with your friends.

When you were a teenager, you had adopted the tradition of welcoming the new year in company of your mates and that had stayed with you despite your friendships coming and going as time went by.

Every New Year party was a different crowd and you love thinking about the differences between them, from who was attending to the theme—if there was one.

You would’ve attended your co-worker’s party this year if it wasn’t for the fact that you had gone to it the previous year and it had been horribly boring so you had opted to accept the invitation to a party that one of your best mates from university sent your way.

Cecilia worked for a creative agency that designed many artists' stages for their tours and she even went on to help the promotional aspect of said tours, so through her you had met many people that had left you quite starstruck. That’s why when you found out this was going to be a party thrown by Charli XCX, one of the artists that she works with, you accepted in a heartbeat.

And now here you are, sipping on a vodka cranberry soda and swaying your hips softly to the beat of the music playing through the speakers as you listen to one of Cecilia’s co-worker’s stories.

You’ve been keeping to your mates ever since you arrived at the big house a few hours ago and now that it’s a little over an hour until midnight, you find yourself a bit tipsy from all of the drinks you’ve been nursing the whole time.

You feel bad for tuning out whatever story is being told and choosing to people watch over the girl’s shoulder, nodding absentmindedly as if you’re listening but your eyes are swimming around the place and looking for something interesting to latch onto so at least you have some entertainment as you waste your time waiting for midnight.

What you aren’t expecting is to see someone already looking at you, and you raise an eyebrow with a smirk on your face when he doesn’t let the fact that you’ve caught him staring steer his gaze away from you.

Instead, the bearded man looks you up and down slowly, tongue swiping across his bottom lip teasingly as he takes you in and you would be lying if you said his shameless behavior didn’t make your stomach flutter with a hint of want.

It shows on your face just how much you’re enjoying the attention and it makes him more smug when he sees you smirking at him after he’s drank in your appearance. You’re wearing a tight black dress that falls down to your ankles but there’s a slit on the side that lets the skin of your left leg show smoothly up to your mid-thigh; the velvet material hugs your body beautifully, accentuating every curve of yours and the square scoop neck of it held by two thick straps on your shoulders allows for your tits to be perfectly hugged and showcased.

All he’s thinking about at the moment is how fucking gorgeous you are and he can’t peel his eyes off you.

“Hi.” You mouth at him, the slightest bit shyly and it’s pathetic how easily he gets your smile to grow on your face when he reciprocates with the same mouthed word and a bright grin.

You roll your eyes at yourself mentally when you feel the heat coming up to your face and just because you can’t keep up with the eye contact, you turn back to your friends and tune back into their conversation. Thankfully, they had been too engrossed in it to notice your lack of attention.

Jumping back into the conversation, you’re aware of every minute that passes by and so when you realize it’s been at least ten, you turn back to where the tall man had been and smile when he catches your eyes on him after a mere few seconds. He looks incredibly handsome in the black on black outfit he has on: black button up with its long sleeves rolled up just below his elbows and it’s tucked into black trousers that fit him perfectly.

It’s a game of who can keep up with the eye contact the longest from then on, and maybe there’s an underlying message to every look which is probably you both daring each other to go up to the other first. You’re also trying to think about where you find him so familiar from but your brain is a mush at the moment so you can’t really come to a conclusion fast.

Stolen glances and cheeky smiles is all you share for the next fifteen minutes, and you sigh to yourself when you find your glass empty and he’s still not made his way over to you.

Softly, you excuse yourself from the conversation and make your way to the kitchen where you know the drinks are and when you get there, you smile at the people around and silently get yourself a refill.

You’re about to pick up your glass when a deep voice startles you but you’re quite pleased to see the man you’ve spent a while looking at when you turn around. He’s standing right in front of you and since the kitchen is a bit crowded, it would take for him to lean into the marble of the kitchen counter to have you trapped in between it and his tall frame.

He smiles down at you with a hint of curiosity in his eyes and starts his chat with you by asking, “What are you drinking tonight?”

“Vodka cranberry soda.” You reply factually, your lipstick smudge showing prominently against the rim of the glass after the shy sip you take of your drink.

“You’ve got a sweet tooth.” He scowls like he disapproves and it makes you roll your eyes in amusement.

“Do I? What are you having then? A beer?” Your tone is sassy and it sparks up something inside him.

He purses his lips briefly, like he’s trying not to laugh and eventually says, “Whiskey.”

You’re just trying to wind him up a bit when you say, “Can’t say I’m a fan, prefer rum.” accompanied by a clearly forced smile.

“Course you do.” His eyebrows raise and he puts on an unimpressed face but inside he’s just thinking, I like her.

Your scoff is loud enough for only him to hear, “Okay stop trying to make assumptions, you know nothing about me.”

He gives you a good surprise when he straightens as you say that and swiftly answers, “Which is exactly the problem.” You pretend that has just not made your knees go a bit weak and accept the handshake he offers you as he introduces himself, “I’m Ross, you are?”

“Y/N, nice to meet you Ross.” His grip on your hand is delicate but you know he’s holding back, though the brief feeling of the roughness on his fingers makes your mind go places it shouldn’t.

“Lovely name. Y/N. I like it.” It makes you laugh how he nods his head in approval, and at the sound of your giggles he smiles at you.

He’s definitely a sight and you just can’t waste the opportunity to shamelessly flirt so you chat back with a suggestive, “Rolls off the tongue quite easily doesn’t it.”

Which he gets straight away because a smirk breaks on his face and he quite explicitly quips back with, “Sure it does in more ways than one.”

“Oh we’re going there?” You try to act innocent as if you weren’t trying to go to that place with your words.

But Ross is quick to act just the same with an airy and faux confused, “Where?”

“Don’t play dumb now.” You take a sip of your drink with your eyes sternly on him like you’re warning him not to.

“M’not, love.” Feigning honesty he places his free hand on his chest but leans in to whisper in your ear, “But if there’s somewhere you want us to go then let me know.”

When Ross leans back, he gives you a subtle wink and suddenly you feel a bit out of control because of everything that you’re feeling inside. Especially how his words, which sounded like a dirty little secret when he dropped his voice an octave, went directly down between your legs.

“You northerners are so cheeky, aren’t you?” You had caught the accent from the very first second he spoke to you and you cannot say it didn’t fall on your ears like warm honey. It was thick and sultry, you kinda wanted him to whisper in your ear again because it felt way too nice.

It seems that it filled him with pride that you had caught onto that fact but now he was curious, “And where are you from?”

“West London.”

“Makes sense then.” He snorted out in laughter and it had your jaw falling in amusement.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You have to force yourself not to laugh because you know exactly what it meant, you’re well aware of your posh accent and you’re completely used to people taking the piss out of you for it.

But Ross shakes his head as he giggles, “Nothing, I’m just fucking with you.”

His answer gives you the perfect opportunity to turn it flirty and you like the way his eyes go dark when you say, “Yeah you wish you were, you div.”

He smirks hearing you use the insult lightheartedly but loving how you keep flirting with him, so he lays it on thick, puffing his chest out as he agrees with your words, “Maybe I do.”

You steer the conversation away from the topic then, unsure if you’d be able to function if he keeps saying things like that to you, and you ask him how he’s managed to end up at this party. You blush like an idiot when he tells you it’s his best mate’s house you’re in and that’s when it clicks that he’s in the band that George is in.

He asks how you’ve ended up there but before you could properly tell him about your best friend working for Charli XCX, he asks if you want to go outside so you can properly talk without all the noise.

Soon enough, you manage to weave your way through the crowd, with his hand placed on your lower back which makes your skin feel like it’s being lit up under his touch. And when you finally get outside, he offers you a cigarette which you turn down.

You’re not really a smoker but god does he look good as he takes the first drag of the cigarette while waiting on you to tell him the story of how you’ve ended up in this party.

Ross listens intently as you tell him how Cecilia and you met in fresher’s week in uni and ever since then you’ve been inseparable. He laughs when you tell him you work at a law firm as a paralegal and just as anyone would expect, the holiday parties your co-workers would throw were dire and you had learned that the hard way the previous year.

He admits he thinks he’s heard of your best friend through Charli and he hints at having seen her at Leeds fest earlier that year. You confirm that she was indeed there for Charli’s set in Leeds and you manage to get him laughing again when you refer to the band he’s in as the one where the lead singer eats the raw meat and gets himself off on stage.

“Yeah, that’s us in a nutshell.” He laughs a bit more, and you cackle loudly before clarifying that you actually did know them.

“I’m joking. Though, that is all I really know about yous lately. But yes, I’ve heard your music before. Your first album remains my favorite.” You’re being entirely honest about it now and it elicits a sweet smile from him before he takes another drag of his cigarette.

“Was it Robbers?” He asks with a smirk, as if he’s clearly reading you.

But you shake your head, “It was actually The City. Heard it once and I was sold.”

Ross hums at her answer, it settles in him the fact that he likes you and without really knowing, his eyes fall on your lips as he continues to silently smoke. Your stomach flips at the clear cue, and you have to let your eyes wander somewhere else before you can continue with the conversation.

The tension is growing heavy over you so in an attempt to lighten up the mood a bit just for your own sake, you joke, “That Matty guy really likes kissing people doesn’t he?”

“He does.” Ross apprehensively replies, taking one last drag of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.

You bite your bottom lip as you watch him and hesitantly steer the conversation into a territory you’re intrigued about, “He kissed you didn’t he? I think I saw that the other day.”

“Yeah, he did.” The bassist has no idea where this is going, but he’s taken over by the feeling that this will be one of those times someone goes to him to get to Matty.

And when you cheekily say, “Quite jealous of that actually.” a heavy weight comes to rest on his shoulders.

“Sorry to say he’s got a date tonight.” He says rather dryly, and you notice instantly the way his behavior shifts. He avoids looking at you, his attention suddenly taken by the tumultuous party inside, taking his glass up to his lips to down the last of his whiskey like he was in a hurry.

You find it rather funny, but also you’d hate to miss a chance with this gorgeous man thanks to a misunderstood comment so you clear up with a soft smile, “Not jealous of you, jealous of him.”

That blank look on his face changes in a split second the moment your words reach his ears, and you watch that smirk you’d been growing used to seeing the past few minutes make a comeback.

Ross takes a step closer to you and it makes you have to look up at him. Even with the high heels you’ve got on, he’s still taller than you and you quite like that. Smoothly, he wraps an arm around your waist so he can pull you flush against his chest, “Should’ve mentioned that before, love.”

The pet name does to you the same as his lips trapping yours does—your knees buckle a bit and you instantly are wrapping your arms over his shoulders to keep him in place. The contrast between his soft lips and his rough beard drives you mad, your mouth falling open in a gasp that he swallows at the feeling of it all. And his tongue coming to meet yours has you dizzier than all the vodka you’ve had so far.

He tastes like whiskey and tobacco, and his tongue is diligent as it goes against your own. Your thoughts go straight to a lustful place, wondering if he’d be just as intent between your legs and adding what his beard might feel like against your thighs has you letting out a breathy moan in the kiss.

His fingers dig into the clothed skin of your waist possessively, like he wants to leave his mark on you and it only grows the need you feel running through your veins.

Your free hand goes up his neck and digs into his hair, which is annoyingly tied in a low bun that you end up pulling as if to say you wanna undo it and have his long hair fall freely so you can pull on it just how you want to.

A groan comes from deep in his chest and you swallow it proudly. You just cannot fight how much you enjoy the sound you’ve gotten out of him and it shows in your smile that interrupts the kiss, as he’s left half pecking your teeth.

You pull back slightly, looking down at his swollen lips which have a bit of your lipstick smudged on them and bring your thumb to clean them as you conclude, “That was good.”

“Very good.” Ross mumbles against your finger, biting the pad of it in the middle of your task which has you giggling like an idiot.

You stay silent and focused on his lips when you continue wiping them and once you’re done, you ask quietly, “Have you got anywhere to be first thing next year?”

“Like after midnight.” He asks back a bit puzzled by your wording.

“You’re so smart.” The sarcasm in your voice has him rolling his eyes in fake annoyance, but inside he’s excited and intrigued about what it is that you’re trying to do.

Your hand leaves his face to fall on his chest, and he notes how he likes this proximity with you as he says, “No, I don’t. Why?”

You pray he can’t see how nervous you are when you bravely ask, “Wanna come over to mine?”

In all honesty, Ross hadn’t expected that to be your inquiry but it’s the best surprise, “I would like that, yeah.” He would more than like that, he would love that but he plays it cool to not throw you off.

You’re trying to act cool as well, shrugging your shoulders and giving an alternative as if it didn’t matter where you went, “Or back to yours, I don’t mind.”

And it didn’t really matter where you ended up at, you both know where this is going and you couldn’t be more excited about it. No better way to start the new year.

“I’m fifteen minutes away.” Ross tells you in all honesty and seeing the sparkle in his eye at the last minute planning makes you incredibly giddy.

It shows just as clear in your smile when you say you’re “Thirty.” minutes away.

And the answer to where you’re taking this later is clear, only Ross settles it in stone when he says, “Mine then.”

You hum, looking down to his lips again and stealing one last peck from him before you nod and nonchalantly reply with, “Alright.” as if you’re not mentally begging time to go faster so you can leave with him.

“Shall we go back inside?” Ross asks with a smirk on his face, you can see how clearly smug he is about this going the way it is and it excites you.

So you nod, letting him take your hand and guide you inside. You walk past a large group of people and stumble into George, who’s at the decks queuing up some songs for everyone’s enjoyment.

You greet him and congratulate him on his stunning house and the brilliant party, pointing out how much you love the disco ball hanging from their ceiling, and he gives you a smile and a wholehearted thank you in return. You’d met George a fair few times when you got to go to Charli’s gigs as Cecilia put you in the guestlist, and he’d been an absolute sweetheart from the moment you met. You hadn’t even recognized him from his band then, and it had been rather refreshing to him that someone he met was being nice to him just for the sake of being it and not because of his job and who he was.

Of course the drummer tells Ross about it right then, very briefly how you had apologized for ten minutes straight for not recognizing him back then and you’d promised him you’d listen to his music again soon.

Ross pinches your waist as he laughs and he tells George how you hadn’t recognized him either until he’d said he was in the band with the drummer. Adding a paraphrased recount of you only knowing about Matty wanking on stage and eating raw meat.

You fully feel yourself burning up and you shake your head at them. “Yous are the worst.” You say with narrowed eyes and scoff before you’re excusing yourself, “I’m gonna get myself another drink, please continue taking the piss.”

Their laughter is what you hear behind you as you try to make your way through the crowd until the music drowns you and you get to the kitchen. There you fan your face and you smile like a fool to yourself.

However, suddenly, a squeal slips past your lips and it isn’t because of you thinking back to what has happened in the past twenty minutes, but because Cecilia pokes your ribs before she complains about you disappearing.

“Where have you been? It’s been almost half an hour and you still haven’t gotten another drink?”

You press your lips together and then turn back to your glass so you can make yourself your drink, “Sorry, I sort of got carried away talking to this guy…”

The loud gasp that she lets out manages to make you giggle shyly, “Who?!”

“Ross…” You quietly let her know and you leave her frozen in her place while you pour some vodka in your glass.

Silence engulfs you until you’re done making your cocktail and when you look back up to your best friend, you laugh at her agape mouth.

“As in–” She starts saying in shock and you nod.

“As in George’s best mate.” You bring your glass up to your lips and take a long sip, the sweet drink refreshing your throat but you can’t help but think back to how much you’d like to taste Ross again.

Before you can go back to the bassist though, Cecilia is dragging you back to the rest of the group you’d been with at the start of the party and squealing like a high schooler, she makes you tell her all about what’s happened.

You keep it brief, not really wanting to get in too much detail and ruin this for yourself but it seems like the simple knowledge that you’ve kissed him outside has them screeching and asking questions about it for what feels like an age.

It’s a miracle they let you go to the kitchen to get one of those little Patron bottles you’d seen laying around so that you could do shots together but what you aren’t expecting is for Ross to be leaning by the door of the kitchen seemingly waiting for you to come around.

“Where’d you go?” He asks curiously once you walk up to him, his arm snaking around your waist to bring you closer and it makes you smile.

You sigh, free hand coming up to his shoulder and you smooth the fabric of his black shirt there before you look up at him to say, “My friends found me and complained about me disappearing.” You watch as he analyzes every inch of your face and hums at your excuse, “They’re waiting for me now to bring them some tequila so…”

The silence that comes over you two after you drift off is nice, it’s not really that much silence because the music is still loudly shaking the walls but it’s peaceful enough to have you enjoying each other’s company.

He breaks it when he leans into your ear to say, “You better have not promised anyone a midnight kiss.”

You wait until he leans back and is looking at you for you to shake your head, “I haven’t.”

A simple, “Good.” is what you get back and you roll your eyes in amusement at the fact that this is clearly him wanting to have you say the words.

“Why? You wanna kiss me again?” All inhibitions are slowly being pushed out of the window the more time you spend with him and it feels thrilling.

“You know I do.” Ross says almost pained at the fact that he has to wait more time to get to that moment.

But you relieve him when you assure him, “You don’t need to wait until midnight to do it, babe.”

There is nothing more to say to have him pouncing on your lips and the hint of desperation in his actions makes you moan softly in his mouth. Ross has both of his arms wrapped around your waist tightly, pressing you against him in such way that you’re dreaming about the moment you get to feel him like this without your clothing in between. Your hands come up to cup his jaw, his beard tickling the palms of your hands and you’re the one to tease his mouth open when your tongue comes to lick at his bottom lip.

The meeting of your tongues heats up the kiss, tasting each other makes you both hungry to take everything the other can give. As one of your hands comes to cradle the back of his neck, he lets his free hand slowly drop down your lower back until it’s resting over your ass and a gasp slips past your lips when his fingers dig in your clothed flesh.

You certainly love the way he kneads your ass, cupping it and squeezing it with no mercy and you’re left wondering if he’s just like that in bed. Everything is so promising so far, you can feel the wetness starting to pool between your legs and ruining your underwear.

Instinctively you clench your thighs together and he chuckles into the kiss when he notices. Shy is not a word that has ever been used to describe you and Ross learns that by the way you seem smug about him catching onto you trying to relieve yourself even a little bit.

You pull back with a massive smirk on your face, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath and a subtle grind of your hips on his. The heavy exhale he lets out hits your parted mouth and you have to bite on your bottom lip to at least conceal in the slightest how that feeds into your ego.

His hand which was still on your ass confidently, squeezes it harshly and you drown the mewl it elicits out of you by pressing your lips together. Ross stares at you, eyes dropping from your eyes to your lips to your chest and then back up to your eyes so he can breathlessly ask, “How fast after midnight can we leave?”

“That eager?” It’s so hypocritical of you to tease him for it when you’re just as eager to go but you will never pass on the opportunity to have a man show you how much they want you first.

And Ross doesn’t let up exactly what’s going through his head, “You look stunning and I really don’t know if I can kiss you again and not want to take you in the middle of the room.”

Those words are enough for you to fully make up your mind about it all, if you had been sure you wanted this earlier then you’re entirely convinced there’s nothing else you want to do now.

It’s quickly that you think about the best time frame for you to go, you come to the conclusion, “Half past. I need to spend a bit of time with my friends so they don’t say I ditched them for some guy later.” You don’t necessarily want him to know you’ve told them who you had been talking to and kissing just in case that could put him off.

But it’s the way he narrows his eyes at you and pinches your ass as he repeats, “Some guy…” that makes you think maybe he wants you to tell them.

“Does it hurt your ego, Mr. Rockstar?” You can’t help but tease, there’s a darkness that shadows the brown of his eyes when you push at his buttons and you enjoy trying to find out what it is that could happen when he snaps.

Ross shakes his head at you, a soft chuckle managing to escape while he tells you to, “Shut up.” before he’s doing it himself.

Kissing him is something that you’re finding yourself to really enjoy and so you relish in the feeling for as long as you can. Your hands are in charge of keeping the other as close as possible, clutching onto each other tightly as if there was the possibility of being taken away. Nothing else is in your minds, wanting to take each other to the limit and that is until your lungs beg you to offer some oxygen to them and your lips separate from his with a smack.

“Okay, go on.” Ross instructs, a hint of satisfaction filling his insides after kissing you again, his hand patting your ass softly, “Back to them now, love. I’ll come get you at midnight.” There was only less than twenty minutes to wait until then so he was fine with seeing you go, knowing he was gonna have you back with him in a bit.

You nod with mischief written all over your face and he winks at you when you peel yourself off him. Out of the corner of your eye you watch how he walks off back into the crowd of the party, leaving you a flustered mess looking for one of those damn little Patron bottles for your friends.

The task gets pathetically hard with your mind still stuck on the thought of the bassist, the feeling of his touch on you and his presence right next to you. Eventually, you manage to get one of the bottles and you all but run back to your friends, as if rushing back to them would help time move faster until you got to see Ross again.

It’s so pathetic but you blame your hormones and the lack of action in your life the past few months thanks to your job.

The shots you do with your friends loosen you up a bit. And you find your hazy mind easier to get lost in the conversation and laugh more at your friend’s jokes because of the way you lose any grasp on time.

And that is the reason why you don’t notice him walking up to you until he’s right beside you and his hand is coming to delicately hold onto your waist.

“Ladies…” Ross clears his throat as his eyes go to every one of the five girls in the group, offering them a smile that teases a glance of the dimples on his cheeks, “Mind if I steal her from you?”

You look up at him through half lidded eyes, your smile so big it reaches your eyes in such way that it almost closes them and, god, does he melt at the sight.

“Go ahead.” Cecilia smirks knowingly and just to taunt you both, she asks, “Is she coming back for the countdown or shall we say happy New Year already?”

You groan and roll your eyes at her because she sounds like your mum, which has her laughing to herself and the rest of the girls are trying not to giggle at your behavior.

Ross nods though, a smile plastered on his face as if permanently, “I’ll have her back with you afterwards, don't worry.”

“Enjoy it then.” Cecilia cheers with a tilt of her glass and Ross nods at the gesture.

“Happy New Year.” The bassist wishes them as he brings his hands from your waist to your hand, intertwining your fingers before starting to walk away from your group of friends.

A chorus of “Happy New Year!” is heard right as you’re turning around and you wave comically at your friends as you walk beside Ross.

When you had gotten to the party, Charli had told you to leave your coats and bags in a room somewhere in the house so you didn’t have your phone on you to look at the time. You did have a small watch on your right wrist though, and when you catch a glance of the time while Ross guides you back to his friends, you giggle.

“Five minutes early. Aren’t you impatient?” Your smile is big on your face and just thinking about how he has had to be looking for you for a bit makes your stomach flip.

His hands drop yours to bring it around your waist and guide you to walk in front of him, you bite your bottom lip when you feel him press himself flush against your back as you continue walking into the crowd.

“I think that’s being punctual.” Ross quips back easily, leaning down to say the words in your ear.

Just when you manage to walk past a large group of people dancing and you get to spot a bit far away from the center of the room, you stop in your tracks and turn around to face him.

Purposely, your arms go over his shoulders and wrap around his neck. He leans in, thinking you’re about to give him the opportunity to taste your mouth again but you skip past his lips and lean further until your lips graze his ear.

Whispering, you deem his behavior, “A bit desperate.” and he instantly reacts to it by digging his fingers into your waist and pushing his hips forwards to press on yours.

“You wouldn’t have come in time.” He explains breathlessly once you pull back so you can see his eyes again.

By pressing your lips together you avoid smiling too much at his words, humming before you play in on his train of thought, “So you were just making sure I kept to my word?”

“Exactly.” He nods with a serious expression on his face like you understanding his point was a pressing matter.

You roll your eyes with a snort of laughter and sarcastically note, “How kind of you.”

But before he can add something else in his defense, someone comes from behind you and Ross lets go of you to hug them. You watch with a soft smile and your cheeks burning up because of how they had found you and Ross and it seemed like these people were Ross’ long time friends.

“Y/N, this is John and his fiance, Lilly.” Ross introduces them to you and you shake their hands with a sweet smile on your face, “Lilly, John, this is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you!” You say kindly, and you’re so relieved to see the genuine smiles on their faces as they reciprocate the sentiment.

You expect Ross to start the conversation but he’s got an empty glass in hand and your hands are completely empty so he asks you, “Do you want another drink?”

“Oh, sure. Please.”

Ross nods and excuses himself quickly, the three of you watch as he walks in direction to the kitchen and when he disappears from your sights, you turn back to each other and start small talk.

In the few minutes it takes Ross to come back, you find that John plays the sax for the band and his fiance works in the medical field as a nutritional therapist and biomedical practitioner. They ask you how you know Ross and you honestly tell them about how you’d ended up at the party and met Ross an hour before.

The bassist appears behind you just when you’re sharing how you hadn’t recognized him at first until he said he was best mates with George, letting his presence be known with an amused, “Oh yeah, she had no idea who I was.”

You scoff, and you try to defend yourself by pointing out, “You looked familiar!” but he raises his eyebrows at you and tilts his head slightly at you like he’s saying wordlessly that he doesn’t believe you and all you can do is sigh in defeat. He hands you the drink he got for you and you say a soft, “Thank you.” before he comes to stand beside you, an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you pressed to his side.

There’s something possessive about his touch and you find yourself enjoying it far too much, your head going places it shouldn’t and continuing to build on the anticipation inside you. It’s like a tower of wooden blocks that keeps growing taller and you know there’s only so much you can go without feeling more of him—or all of him, if you’re able.

Your conversation gets interrupted when you hear there’s only a minute left until midnight and after that, you’re all just warily letting your words out as if being careful not to miss the moment midnight strikes.

But it’s impossible to miss it when the countdown starts from ten and Ross swiftly turns you around with a smirk on his face that grows as you hear, “Five, four, three, two, one… Happy New Year!”

You meet in the middle, your hand cupping his jaw while his holds your waist. It is quite delicate in comparison to the previous kisses you’ve shared and you can’t help but think if it has anything to do with the fact that his friends are right beside you. Not that they’re paying you two any attention though, as they’re both lost in each other’s lips too.

The heat between your bodies grows when his tongue teases your open mouth but he lets you be the one to deepen the kiss. You really enjoy being the one to take control but soon it’s like he fights back to be the one to direct the kiss and the kiss elongates and becomes more intent until you just have to pull back to catch your breath.

“Happy New Year.” Ross wishes you with his pupils blown out, his gaze hungry looking down at you and his fingers resting tightly on your waist like he’s holding himself back from pouncing on your lips again.

With a quiet, “Happy New Year.” you reciprocate before being the one to grant his silent wish, and you’re really glad he’s holding you because your legs weaken when hearing him groan into your open mouth the second you crash your lips together again.

When you break the second kiss, it seems like he doesn’t want to let you go—his hand on your waist still holding you close to him and he dips his head to leave pecks on your lips that he’s trying to turn into a proper kiss again.

The giggles that escape you make him smile, your thumb rubs over one of his dimples matching his grin and you playfully remind him, “You promised I’d be back after midnight.”

“Did I?” He plays dumb, pressing another chaste kiss on your lips that makes you whine.

You shake your head at him, narrowed eyes like you’re really surveilling his every move and you press, “You did.”

The sudden announcement that comes from Charli through the speakers distracts you and when the song she’s announced being a remix she and George did for a Caroline Polachek song comes on, you forget you should be going back. You’re jaw dropped at the song, not only because of how fucking good it is but from the rather hot lyrics and you can’t help but think good for her about Charli when the song is over.

Turning back to the bearded man who still has a tight grip around your waist to keep you close, you make sure to give him a challenging look. Ross sighs in defeat and says, “You’ve got thirty minutes now.” not without cheekily letting his hand fall to your ass and squeezing it before you can go.

“Keep an eye on the clock for me then.” You say after you giggle, tapping on his chest and stealing one last peck before you’re off to hug John and Lilly to wish them a happy new year and finally excuse yourself to go back to your friends.

It’s not really like you want to go but you’re enjoying the tension building up and maybe you really want to squeal about it to your friends. You’re far too elated about it all and it’s hard to keep your composure in front of him with the lingering touches and the kisses he gives you, especially under the influence of the drinks you’ve had all night.

That’s why it’s not really a surprise you keep checking your watch when you’ve finally found your friends and you can’t go more than ten minutes with them before you’re hugging them all goodbye and saying you’re going back home.

Cecilia is the one who narrows her eyes at you, your eagerness shining through you and she has a feeling home is not really where you’re heading but she reckons if anything happens, you’ll be telling her soon enough—you’d just told them how you and Ross had shared a New Year’s kiss and had gone into a bit of detail about it.

There is almost a skip in your step as you go to the kitchen to leave your glass behind and then off to get your coat and bag, miraculously stumbling into the right door when you look for the room everyone had left their stuff at. And with growing excitement, you walk back to where you remember leaving Ross behind.

Ross is the one who gets surprised when he sees you walking in his direction from across the room. He pulls out his phone from the pocket of his black trousers and checks the time, frowning in curiosity when seeing that it’s merely a quarter past midnight.

“You’ve still got fifteen minutes.” He points out when he meets you in the middle, having excused himself from a conversation with some lads, pocketing his phone again.

You shrug nonchalantly, praying he can’t see the way you just can’t wait anymore written on your face, “Yeah well, I think we can use those to be on our way to yours.”

He smirks, downing the rest of his drink and using your words from before on you, “That eager?”

You just stare at him, your tongue poking on your cheek and you end up sighing to say, “You’re not getting an answer to that.”

Something shifts in him, dark eyes looking intently at you through his lashes and he leans closer to your face so he can mumble against your lips, “Oh I will, love.”

There is something about it, a hidden message—maybe a promise masked as a threat—and it makes every atom in your body buzz in anticipation. In your head you’re speculating all about what this could mean, picturing if he’s going to be the type to kiss you until you get to his room and then push you face down on his bed to fuck you into the matress or if he will be one of those who can barely make it to their settee before the need for release takes over and has you ride him with your tits pressed all over his face so he can suck bruises as you milk him dry.

You clench around nothing, getting flustered again and your arousal wetting your underwear. So you don’t waste another second to ask, “Are you ready to go?”

“Definitely.” He nods, grabbing your hand delicately and he smiles seeing your coat hanging on the crook of your elbow, your bag hanging off your shoulder. Yet, he still inquires, “Are you?” and you only hum in response.

That’s the green light he needs to pull out his phone from his pocket and order you two an Uber back to his place. Fortunately, it’s only about eight minutes that you have to wait for it to arrive since it’s not that late yet and you watch as he places the device back in his pocket before grabbing your hand so you can go outside.

“Aren’t you gonna say goodbye to your mates?” You ask quite puzzled, but he shrugs it off like it’s really not important.

“They’ll survive.”

It makes you laugh softly but you follow as he leads you to the front door. Someone opens it before he can and, of course, the quite tipsy girl who walks in seems to be his friend because they hug very briefly.

Comically though, Ross says hello and goodbye in the same sentence and you have to swallow a cackle when the girl’s face contorts in confusion. But she comes to an understanding when Ross pulls on your hand and you walk a step closer, almost pressed to his back.

“Hi.” You smile at her and wave amicably, your insides warm when you see her smile and wave back, about to say something to you but then Ross is a little shit and pulls you away as he walks through the threshold of the main door, taking you with him.

A mouthed apology is all you can manage before you’re closing the door behind you. “Taxi’s not even here.” You call him out for taking you away, but he nods like it’s knowledge that really doesn’t change anything.

Instead, he takes out his packet of cigarettes from one of his pockets and lights one up in between his lips, his cheeks hollowing slightly and the smoke coming out of his nose and his parted mouth.

His hand extends to offer you one but you once again turn him down, this time explaining further with, “I don’t smoke, Ross.”

To which he coos as if you’re a child, and his mocking, “Awh, aren’t you cute?” makes you roll your eyes.

It’s quite cold outside, so you put your coat on and cross your arms over your chest, trying to keep warm as you wait. He notices that regardless of that, you’re still shaking so he takes a stride towards you and throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him—your cheek resting on his chest comfortably, taking advantage of the moment to inhale his scent and smile at the feeling of his chest hair tickling at your face.

He continues smoking as he cradles you into him and, despite having to breathe a bit of the smoke he’s exhaling, you enjoy the feeling of being held by him in silence.

It’s only a minute after he’s dropped the bud to the ground and stepped on it that the taxi comes around, greeting you with a lovely “Happy New Year.” that you both reciprocate. You’re the one to rush to open the door, but you don’t go in, instead you make Ross go first and, at first, he’s trying to get you get in before him but you stubbornly stand your ground and he begrudgingly enters the vehicle.

Ross is about to scoot to the side so you can sit to his left when you get in but his breath hitches in his throat when you let yourself land on his lap and you purposely squirm over him before you’re actually taking a seat to his right.

His head whips to the side to look at you but you act like you can’t feel it, your gaze stuck straight ahead but a smirk managing to tug at the corners of your lips against your will.

The taxi starts moving once Ross closes the door and the driver makes light conversation as he goes. You’re answering enthusiastically, letting him know a brief summary of the party you were at and giving him a little white lie about how you two were so tired that you decided to go back home early.

The smile on your face falters when you feel Ross’ big hand coming to rest on your thigh before he’s clutching it tightly and squeezing it to make you squirm in your seat.

“It’s been a long day mate. We’re going home and heading straight to bed.” He adds into the conversation, a blank expression on his face as if he wasn’t letting his hand slowly trail up further up your thigh, making your skin break out on goosebumps at the touch.

The leg slit of your dress has allowed for it to go further up and the skin of your thighs show dangerously close to where your underwear hugs your hips. And Ross is taking full advantage of the access he has to make your heart rate speed up. His fingers are rubbing circles on your skin, slowly inching closer to your inner thigh and you really have to bite your tongue not to shiver and make any noise.

He smirks when he hears your breathing getting heavier the more his fingers get closer to your heat and he annoyingly continues the conversation with the driver like he isn’t doing what he’s doing.

You jolt in your place when his pinky finger moves up and grazes your cunt, and you hear him hum to himself in satisfaction when he feels your wetness soaking the material of your underwear.

It’s a sadistic conflict that goes inside your head when he lets his hand trail downwards on your thigh again, feeling every inch of distance between his fingers and your center. You want him back touching you where you need him most but you also don’t know if you can keep quiet with how desperate you are for some friction.

The relief you get when he takes his hand up again is unreal, your mouth parting slightly in anticipation but you have to close it tightly not to let out a gasp when his pinky grazes you again but instead of leaving this time, he rubs it up and down your clothed core until he finds your clit.

Ross feels it pulsating under the pad of his finger and he smirks to himself when he starts drawing circles on it and your legs twitch.

You’re so incredibly turned on by him and the intent behind his actions, the high chance of you getting caught fills you with a rush of adrenaline that morphs into pleasure that’s making your head spin.

He’s so relentless at trying to get a proper reaction out of you that could get you caught that he presses a bit harder on your swollen clit and he’s victorious when you can’t hide the soft gasp that leaves you and you let your head pathetically fall down on his shoulder. Your hair coming to cover your face which is contorted in a frown induced by pleasure.

“Oh, is she falling asleep?” The driver asks, seeing your sudden movement through the rearview mirror and you’re half mortified hearing that, though Ross’ skilled finger moving on you takes over most of your thoughts.

Your walls are fluttering around nothing, and you feel like you’re so fucking close to the edge when suddenly, Ross’ hand is gone. He robs you of his touch in a fleeting second, hand coming to rest on your knee instead and he pats on it awkwardly in comparison to the teasing touches he had been leaving on you since the start of the drive.

“Yeah, bless her. She’s really tired.” He replies with a faux pity, you can hear the laughter stuck in his throat. “We’ll get to bed soon, love.” His words are now directed at you and you really want to glare at him and mockingly recite them back to him but you stay in your place and silent instead.

The driver, blissfully unaware of what had actually happened, kept quiet for the rest of the drive so he could let you sleep. Bless that old man. If he only knew you wanted to throw a tantrum over the pleasure that had been stolen from you.

It’s about seven minutes later that you stop at your destination and the sweetness you offer the driver when you bid him farewell and thank him is gone when you’re walking into the building with Ross.

His eyes are stuck on you when you’re walking next to each other, because instead of being close to him, you make it a show of inching away from him as you walk towards the lifts. He wants to laugh, his amused grin showing the dimples on his cheeks and the wrinkles by his eyes.

“You’re grumpy.” He points out when the lift doors close behind you, clicking on the button for the sixth floor.

Your scoff is telling enough but it becomes even clearer how annoyed you are when you spout, “You’re a fucking tease.”

The bassist coos at you, clear mockery of your inability to take it and it’s a contrast to the meek, “That’s nothing.” he lets out right after.

You’re huffing and puffing as you follow him through the halls but when you walk into his flat, you shed your coat with a pout on your face. Your tantrum melts into your best try at puppy eyes so he has some mercy on you and resumes what he was doing as soon as possible.

He looks at you entirely amused but he lets a bit of sweetness seep into his actions and words when he grabs your coat from your hands, “Let me get that for you.” He gets your bag next and hangs it right next to it.

Your skin tingles at the change of temperature from outside and you hum and close your eyes in bliss, mumbling a happy, “Oh, it’s warm in here.”

But he quickly points out how “You’re still shaking.” and you sigh because it’s a bit embarrassing he notices just how poorly you do in the cold.

“I know.” Your arms cross over your chest again and his gaze falls straight down to your tits, you’re pushing them up by doing that and he just wants to bite on the flesh of them.

You take one step forward and he comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your middle. When he dips his head down, you feel the hair in the back of your neck rising and you almost shiver when he whispers, “Lucky for you, I know just how to get you warm very quickly.”

“Do you, now?” You mischievously quip back as you turn around, your arms wrapping around his neck instinctively, as if you know exactly what he’s going to do.

Except, Ross hums deeply and leans down onto you just enough for his hands to get ahold of the back of your thighs and with incredible strength, he picks you up like it’s nothing. It elicits a squeak to fall past your lips and your legs go around his waist instantly, you thought he was going to kiss you but him picking you up like this has just the same effect.

Like this, you’re the one to look down at him and you really like the way his eyes are drinking you in this way. It feels like ages but it’s barely half a minute. He bounces you up and catches you again, but it’s all so his hands could be holding you from your ass and it makes you laugh.

Your fingers go up his neck until they disappear in his hair and you softly pull on it as you say, “You think you’re smooth, don’t you?”

He cocks his head and he grips your ass as he starts walking, “Am I not?”

“I haven’t made my mind up about it yet.” Your answer is teasing like all of them before, and he’s already thinking about whether or not you’ll be a brat when you’re under him in bed.

Ross rolls his eyes playfully at you and you take the lack of witty comeback from him as the opportunity to pounce on his lips. He freely lets himself hum into the kiss, it’s hungry from the second your lips touch and your tongues taste each other desperately. It’s like you both agree there’s no time to be wasted here, not more than has been wasted already tonight, and the sound of your heels thudding on the floor after you toe them off is the confirmation of it.

You gotta say you find his ability to multitask impressive because before you know it, he’s kicking his door open without breaking the kiss and still holding you up.

His steps come to a stop when his knees hit the edge of his bed and you hold him tightly as he leans in so he can lie you on it softly. His right arm goes around your waist so he can help you up the bed, his left hand keeps your leg around him as he kneels on the bed and crawls up until you both can comfortably fit on it. Not that it’d be uncomfortable when you break the kiss and you catch a glimpse of the king sized bed you’re laying on.

In a blink of an eye, his lips have gone down to your jaw to start attacking the rest of your skin and you shudder under him when he licks from your collarbone up the side of your neck until his nose hits your ear.

His teeth catch your earlobe and it makes you gasp, he tugs on it softly and when he lets it free, he asks, “How about now?”

You try to suppress every reaction your body is begging to show, but letting a shaky breath before you conclude, “I reckon I need some more convincing.” A devilish grin shows on your face and he takes it in the view of you beneath him like this: hair splayed over the covers, pupils blown out and dark in lust, lips red and swollen from the kiss you’ve just shared, tits wanting to spill out of your dress.

He leans closer to your mouth, noses barely touching, “You’re greedy.” He mumbles against your lips and your first instinct is to lick his bottom lip.

The wetness of your tongue suddenly swiping across his mouth makes his hips buck into yours and you take your tongue back inside your mouth to show a toothy grin and agree, “I am.”

Ross is completely taken aback, and there is certainly not a thing he’s not thinking about doing to you, with you and on you. “Fucking hell, Y/N/N.” He curses in a low voice, his chest vibrates against you and you’re the one to grab the back of his neck to have his lips back against yours.

Your tongue laps at his and all that’s heard in the room is the loud smacking of your lips as the kiss grows fervent. Your hands go down his shoulders to the front of his chest and your quick nimble fingers undo each button of his shirt. You can feel his heaving chest under your hands once the shirt is completely open and you push it off him messily, wordlessly saying you want it off.

He breaks the kiss, a heavy breath hitting your parted mouth before he pushes off the bed and takes the shirt off the quickest he can. The second he throws it somewhere behind him, he comes back down to hover over you but this time he goes straight down to attack your neck.

His beard feels coarse on your skin but his swollen lips feel warm and he glides his wet tongue over the skin he bruises, and the combination of it all drives you crazy. He doesn’t relent on his actions, only making you moan and mewl louder as he goes.

You’re a whimpering mess when his hands start bunching your dress up until he reveals your stomach and he starts pressing open mouthed kisses on every inch of the skin he’s just uncovered.

The tips of his nose ghosts a trail down from your sternum to your belly button and further down until it hits the edge of your underwear, sitting just on your mound. His teeth grapes at the fabric and he tugs it a little only to let it spring free and snap against your skin.

You jolt in your place, a gasp coming from your throat out into the air and getting lost when he runs his tongue flat along the edge of the lace of your underwear and a moan gets stuck in the back of your throat.

“Are you gonna be good and do as I say?” He mumbles against the skin of your lower stomach, his beard tickling you and the feeling rushing straight down between your legs.

“Yes…” You nod fervently, your eyes closing tightly when he starts kissing over your clothed heat and when he licks a strip up your folds, you’re letting out a strangled, “Oh, fuck, yes!”

His cock twitches in his pants, and he feels himself starting to harden. “That’s a good girl.” Ross praises with one last kiss to you clit, his warm breath feels further away a second later and it has you opening your eyes to see where he’s gone.

He’s just staring at your ruined underwear, willing the image of you at his mercy to brand its place in his mind. His hands are on your thighs, so close to where your underwear sits on your hips and you have to plead with a pathetic and breathy, “Ross…” to snap him out of his trance.

“Yes, love?” The bassist asks, leaving a soft kiss on your inner thigh and looking up at you through his lashes.

“Please.” You lift your hips up to show him exactly what you’re asking for and he smiles sweetly at you, taking pity in your desperation.

“I know, I know.” He nods and his fingers finally hook on the sides of your underwear, but it’s at an agonizing speed that he peels it off you. He pulls back to take it fully off, throwing it mindlessly as he’s far much more interested in watching your glistening cunt finally on show for him. “Look at this sweet cunt.” He coos and his mouth water seeing your arousal making a mess of you, “So wet for me.” He lays on his front again, head between your legs and he hooks his arms under your thighs so his hands come clutching you in place over them. His hips buck forward and he groans at the friction relieving him in the slightest.

You take a deep breath which leaves you almost immediately when his tongue finally makes contact with your heat. He laps at you like a starved man, groaning from the depths of his chest at your taste, “So sweet for me.”

Your legs close around his head subconsciously and your hand comes to his head so your fingers can tangle in his hair as he continues lapping at you. His tongue starts flicking at your clit and it’s impossible for you to control your moans. His beard tickles the inside of your thighs and once again, it’s the contrast between the roughness of his beard and his wet tongue skillfully going quickly at your swollen clit that’s beginning to send you into overdrive.

“Fuck, Ross.” Your back arches off the bed and your fingers pull harshly on his hair making him groan against you, his hips writhe against the mattress and he’s sure he could cum just hearing you like this and dry humping the bed.

You’re just about able to catch a breath when he pulls back slightly but a loud whiny, “Shit!” leaves you when his lips wrap around your clit and he starts sucking on it with intent.

Your hips write against his face, looking for even more from him because you’re feeling the hints of an orgasm start to build up in your lower stomach. But then he pulls back, letting go of your clit with a pop and you whine at the loss.

His index and middle fingers come to take over and he rubs quick circles on your bundle of nerves. Your hips roll against his digits to aid in the friction and you really try to look at him but it feels so good that you can’t pick your head up from the mattress.

“Look at you clenching around nothing.” He points out, marveled at your dripping throbbing cunt.

A loud whine from your mouth bounces on the walls of his room, echoing out the hallway. Your mind is gone, all you can see is stars behind your eyelids and your only constant thought is him and getting to cum so you stupidly reply a desperate, “Yes, please!”

“Please.” Ross mocks with a laugh, his fingers stopping their attack on your clit to rub up and down between your folds, gathering your arousal, “Greedy girl. What do you want now? My fingers?”

An attempt of a hum comes from you but it sounds more like a moan, “Yes, anything. Please.”

“So well mannered.” Ross calls out, dropping kisses on your inner thighs, first the left and then the right and before he can wrap his lips around your clit again, he snorts, “Please, she says.” He sucks on your sensitive clit harshly and you yell out, legs starting to tremble.

He pulls back once again, earning him another whine in complaint but he dismisses it and asks, “Are you gonna be good and listen if I stuff you with my fingers?”

You nod eagerly, humming too so your confirmation is clear but he doesn’t accept it. With a slap to your clit, he makes you jolt and a high pitch moan comes out of you at the same time as he calls out, “Words, Y/N.”

“Yes, I will be good.” You reply breathlessly, “Please. I promise. Promise.” If he asked you to beg, you would. You couldn’t care less anymore.

Without a warning he dips one finger, your jaw going slack at the feeling of his long finger inside you but since you’re so wet, he knows you can take another one.

“Ohhhhh fuckkkk…” You breath out at the stretch, your walls clenching around him tightly and a shiver runs down your spine. Your toes curl when he drags them out slowly, almost all the way out to them dips them back inside you and just like that he sets a slow pace.

“Tight sweet cunt.” He says as he watches your cunt swallow his fingers, welcoming him warmly and drenching his hand as he goes. His mouth falls when he starts going faster and you meet him in the middle when you start bucking your hips into his hand, “All mine.”

Despite being knuckle deep inside you, he’s almost drooling, wanting more of you so he brings his tongue back on you, flicking at your clit again. You squirm and call out his name in sweet moans that he’s getting drunk on, but he wants you loud and begging so he goes back to sucking your clit and it makes him want to smile when you respond just how he wanted to the second he does that.

“Ross! Ross! Oh fuck yes!” You scream, nails digging into his scalp desperately while your other hand comes to claw at the duvet on his bed, white knuckle grip that serves as the only hint of grounding you have right now.

But any trace of sanity leaves you when he starts shaking his head, lips still wrapped around your clit and sucking. It makes you scream, your thighs fully closing around his head to keep him there, fighting the strength of his one hand trying to pin your right leg back down on the bed. His beard feels so fucking good, and you’re sure the beard burn will be worth enduring tomorrow because now every single one of your nerve endings is tingling at the feeling of it all.

He pulls back again, your legs falling limp on the bed again for a second before they’re shaking again but you’re being good and trying to keep them open.

Your arousal is glistening all over his beard and a mess of his spit and your wetness trailing down the corners of his mouth. His eyes don’t leave your cunt, looking intently at how he’s fucking into you, scissoring you open so you’re ready for him later.

His other hand comes to tease your clit, slowly this time. You had been so close just then, about to give in and fall off the edge when he took it from you. It’s torturous and you have no idea how much of that you can take.

Soon he feels you clenching around him, your orgasm building up faster now so he hums, “Just like that.” Ross rubs on your clit faster and you feel it coming at any second, the coil in your stomach about to snap so you get louder, pure gibberish as your thighs shake and they start to close again.

“So– So fucking good!” You manage out, your hips writhing against his hands again, the friction being incredibly perfect and you know there’s only a bit more left for you to let go, “Oh f-fuck, m’gonna cum.”

His fingers thrust into you. Once, twice.

And then, they’re gone.

“No, no, no, no.” Your eyes are wide, your chest heaving and a thin coat of sweat makes your skin glisten. The surprise has your grip on his hair and the duvet loosening so he kneels back on the bed and watches your reaction with a wicked grin.

You try to sit yourself up but you’re so frustrated, your body is exhausted and it doesn’t cooperate so you have to wait for him to crawl back up to you to see what he’s doing.

“You taste so good, love.” The cheeky fucker says before sucking his fingers clean, your arousal coating his tongue and he groans around his digits as he tastes you.

Your legs wrap around his waist and your push on his ass with your heels so he hovers over you. Desperately, you cup his jaw and start begging, “No, Ross. Baby, please. Please. Please.”

“Is it baby now?” One of his eyebrows raise and you nod stupidly. “You’re cute.” He replies with a chuckle and you whine in frustration.

You hate that he’s finding this entertaining, “Why would you do that? I was so close!” Another whine comes from you, making his grin impossibly bigger, “That’s not fair!”

His laughter is about to make you angry so before you actually snap at him, you bring your hand down to rub at your clit yourself. But before you’re even past your belly button, his fingers wrap around your wrist and he pins your hand on bed over your head.

A darkness shadows the brown in his eyes as he utters a curt, “No.”

“But–” You try to fight him but he interrupts with another, “No.”

Your mouth opens to complain some more but he kisses you to shut you up. His mouth presses harshly on yours and you whine in annoyance, you don’t want him to have control if he’s gonna play with you like this.

In an attempt to get him back, your hand goes to the back of his neck and to his hair, pulling on his man bun harshly so his head tilts back slightly with a gasp falling from his lips. Some strands of his hair fall free and tickle the sides of your face. You smile in satisfaction.

A fire sparks within him at your sudden defiance and with just the same strength, he grabs your other wrist and pins it over your head too.

He attacks your lips again, his hips pressing viciously into your sensitive core and you writhe against him in response, he’s so hard in his trousers and it makes you want to win control over so bad. You’re trying to fight who’s in charge here and god it’s turning you on even more.

The kiss is all tongue and teeth clashing, heavy breaths and groans, moans and spit dribbling down the corners of your mouths. But then he deprives you of yet again another pleasure when he pulls back. Yet this time he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, digging onto your delicate flesh, tugging on it as you pull back.

Wetness pools between your legs at his actions and you arch into him in pleasure, whining for him and because of him again.

He lets go of your bottom lip and you stare at him with your mouth agape, heavy breaths to get some oxygen back in your lungs and the ache between your legs almost hurting at this point.

That’s why, your eyes roll into your skull when he has one of his hands gripping both of your wrists in place over your head so his other hand comes to get ahold of your face and he seriously spouts, “Are you gonna be a brat and keep complaining? Or are you gonna be a good girl and take it?”

You don’t wanna give him an answer but you know exactly what you’re choosing and your pride takes a blow at it.

Alternatively, you figure there isn’t any better way to forget about words than clashing your lips together again but when you lift your head to capture his mouth in yours, he pulls back and demands, “Answer.”

You huff when he pies you off, rolling your eyes and clenching your fists, a long few beats of silence go by before you begrudgingly reply, “I’m gonna be good.”

“I know you will be.” Ross says with a wicked smile on his face, his ego getting a fill at you submitting yourself to him.

That’s when he finally gives you the pleasure of another kiss, this time more mindful than the last and he lets go of his hold on your wrists so you can touch him how you want, silently telling you this isn’t just about what he wants.

One of his hands delicately holds your face as his lips move on yours and his other hand is on your waist, fingers digging into your skin and lighting a fire under his touch. He goes up but finds your ribs still being covered by the velvet material of your dress so he tries to push it up, failing to move it even an inch.

You let go of his lips to offer him some guidance but you barely manage to tell him, “Zip’s on the back.” because his lips keep pressing wet kisses on your mouth.

Ross hums into your mouth when your lips interlock again but he only lets the kiss keep going for a few more seconds, a smack sounding inside the room when he pulls back slightly and then he mumbles against your lips, “Turn around for me, love.”

He says that but he actually helps you flip around so you’re laying on your stomach beneath him, his weight comes to softly press on you when he hovers over you again. His right hand pushes your hair to the side so he can uncover the skin on the back of your neck and he starts a trail of kisses from there.

His mouth leaves patches of wetness as he presses a kiss on every exposed inch of skin on your back, and you let out a few giggles when his beard tickles you on a sensitive spot.

The tension dawns heavily on you when his hand finally goes to grasp at the zipper and, very slowly, he starts pulling it down. You feel it reach its limit and his breath hits the newly exposed skin of your lower back.

The bed dips slightly when he crawls down so he can wrap his arm around your middle and pull you up to your knees on the bed, just like he is. You don’t argue, the anticipation makes you grow hotter and you quite like letting him handle you. With those big strong calloused hands of his.

A shiver runs down your spine when his ghostly touch comes over your shoulders and his fingers push on the straps on your shoulders swiftly. With the straps no longer holding the front of the dress up, the fabric falls flimsily to pool around your waist and your breasts are finally exposed, your hard nipples finally on show for him.

Ross props his chin on your shoulder and a heavy breath comes from him, hitting the side of your neck as he catches a glimpse of your beauty. His hands come back down to bunch the skirt of the dress up to your waist and he drops a kiss or two on your shoulder before he’s pulling the dress up your body and finally taking it off you.

The silence that has taken over the room is deafening, that’s why when he throws your dress on the floor you hear it land with a soft thud on his wooden floors. And when his hands hold onto the sides of your waist and pull you flush against his front, the gasp you let out rings loudly in your ears. You can feel his hard length pressed on your ass and you’re not sure how you’re gonna take him later, your cunt throbs at the idea of him splitting you open.

But he’s cruel about his touch, keeping it slow as his fingers trail up the sides of your waist, feeling every ridge of your ribs, coming down your abdomen to your thighs before he can even get to your tits. But when he does, you’re shattering the bubble of silence like a hammer to a mirror.

His hands come up to cup your tits and he’s gentle at first, gracing them like he’s trying to memorize how they feel in his hands. Your breathing grows heavy, and you’re baffled by the fact of how much you’re feeling from his touch on your breasts—attributing the fact that you’re feeling so affected by it because of him edging you.

But then Ross gives your nipples attention and you all but lose it with everything he does.

He starts by flicking them and bolts of electricity run down every nerve ending of your body. He stops and his hands start kneading on your tits harshly, making you whimper and lose stability. It’s like you’re drunk for a moment when his fingers dig into your breasts like he’s trying to mold them to his pleasure but then he shocks you awake when he pinches your nipples with his thumbs and index fingers.

“Fuckkkk.” You curse loudly as he continues to use that pattern, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder as you moan out into the air, your ass rubbing on his hard cock as you clench your thighs together.

You know he enjoys seeing you like this. You know it from the way his breathy laugh hits your neck, from the way his teeth sink into the flesh at the side of the base of your neck and you shiver in his arms, from the way he hums in approval of your every reaction.

And you honestly should’ve expected him to stop.

You should’ve.

But you didn’t.

So you’re left whining again, at the loss of yet another form of pleasure. But this time he doesn’t laugh at your needy behavior, instead he places soft kisses on your shoulder rubbing circles on your waist where he’s holding you.

He plants a string of kisses up your neck and when he reaches your ear, he whispers, “Can you lay on your front for me, love?”

There is no negotiation to be had anymore, nothing to be discussed within yourself because all you want is to reach your orgasm, so you nod desperately, spouting a rush, “Yeah, yes.” before you slowly lay back down on your front.

“You’re so good aren’t you?” His hands come to rest on your hips, rubbing circles on your skin as he admires the view.

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement, only softly because you don’t want to push it anymore. You don’t wanna fight him, you just want Ross to make you cum.

His hands pull your ass up and even with your hazy mind you understand what he wants, so you arch your back so your ass is up for him, your cunt on full show just for him and your face pressed on its side on the mattress.

“Poor little cunt, left it a mess didn’t I?” His words fall slowly from his lips, his tone lowering as he brings a finger down to your wetness and he bites his bottom lip when he runs it up and down your folds. He watches the slight tremble of your legs and he smiles to himself when you press your face straight into the mattress so a cry is muffled against the duvet, “Does it hurt?”

You turn your head to watch him out of the corner of your eye, over your shoulder and you pout, another pathetic cry leaving you as you say, “Yes.”

“Should I help you relieve the ache?” He asks this time, his finger leaving your cunt alone to come grasp at the flesh of your ass and roughly knead it until you’re squirming and moving your hips in the air in search of something, anything.

“Yes, please, yes.” You plead desperately, not a sign of embarrassment in sight at how pathetic you sound.

“Should I?” Ross taunts you by asking, and you close your eyes trying not to cry so you don’t see him lowering down.

Your hands grip onto the duvet hard when you feel him start biting softly on the backs of your thighs and your legs start to shake instantly. He enjoys seeing the effect he has on you, and you feel the smile on his face when his lips graze up your skin and then back down, only to lick a stripe up your leg before he’s switching that for open mouthed kisses which come back around to soft bites.

Whimpers and begging is all that comes from you, your legs shaking and your mind going haywire from the sensory overdrive. It’s his beard combined with his wet tongue and his plush lips and his teeth biting on your flesh. You’re going mad.

You lose track of time entirely, drunk on every sensation he brings you until he finally goes back to where you’re aching for him—throbbing for him.

“Fucking dripping, babe” He points out, almost drooling at the sight but instead of tasting you again, he brings his fingers up and slides two in easily. “Look at you, taking me so well.” His fingers drag out of you and when he sinks them back in, he growls. “Think you can take a third, love?” He’s already daydreaming about stuffing you with his cock in a bit, hitting your hilt every time he thrusts into you.

Despite his mind being busy making up a scenario based on his current views, he notices you haven’t answered. You have your face pressed on the bed, almost suffocating yourself because you’re feeling so much pleasure, every moan is stuck in your throat.

His big hand strikes mercilessly on one of your ass cheeks, letting loose every noise you’d been holding and coming out in a yelp as you jolt forward. You clench around his fingers at the hit, and he smirks looking at the print of his hand becoming a darker pink as the seconds go by.

“Answer.” He demands with another loud hit on your ass, which earns him a pornographic moan from you. It goes straight to his cock, his hand coming to adjust himself in his trousers as if that could help in any way.

“Yes, I can take it.” You whine in an obnoxious high pitch. If you could see yourself now, you’d roll your eyes at yourself, sounding like a bitch in heat. But you don’t care right now, because he gives you what he’s promising.

With your approval, Ross slowly dips a third finger inside you and he hears your loud mewl as you stretch around him. Your walls adjust to the new digit after a few seconds and once he feels you relaxed again, he starts pumping them in and out of you at a decent pace.

The bassist is completely entranced by the sight, the squelching sounds of his fingers coming in and out of your dripping wet cunt fill the room along with the lewd noises you’re letting out and isn’t it a fucking scene.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the print of his hand red on your ass cheek and he can’t help himself from smacking it once more. But this time, it’s all too much and your knees lose strength so you’re falling limp on bed, his fingers slipping out of you and you gasp at the loss.

“No!” You cry out but before you can actually start crying this time, his left arm snakes underneath you so he can prop your ass up again and with no time to waste, he’s slipping three fingers inside you again.

This time though, Ross has some mercy on you and he makes up his mind about finally letting you cum. So his thumb skillfully starts rubbing circles on your clit as he continues fucking into you and you’re left clawing at the sheets in pleasure.

Your cheek presses on the mattress as you turn your face to the side to loudly gasp when he curls his fingers and he hits that spot that has you seeing stars, “Fuck, yes, just like that Ross!”

“Like this?” He puts on a naive tone in his voice before he curls his fingers again, and all you’re able to give back is a bunch of pornographic sounds that make him grow impossibly harder in his pants.

You’re panting with your face pressed on the bed, eyes shut tightly as pleasure bathes you, but he asks you to, “Play with your tits for me, love.” and he’s glad to see you’re listening when you do just as he says.

Your fingers are weak from the tight hold you had on the sheets so you’re very soft with the way you try to copy what he was doing on them before.

“Come on, love. You can do better than that.” He says as he purposely goes faster with his actions and you moan loudly at the increase in his pace. Wanting to appease him, you knead harshly on your tits and he hums in approval, “Yes, just like that. Now, pinch your nipples.” He instructs, his mouth going dry when you do it but he’s not feeling you squeezing his fingers with your cunt yet so he knows you’re not being deliberate about it.

“Hard.” He demands and when you do, your eyes tear up at the amount of pleasure running through you. You clench around his fingers tightly and he smiles to himself, “There we go. Don’t stop.” And you nod, entirely willing to do whatever he wants you to.

But you’re not sure you can continue with much intent when his thumb leaves your clit and instead, he brings his mouth to your clit to suck on it harshly again as he continues to relentlessly fuck three fingers in and out of you.

“Oh Ross! Fu– Fuck! Fuckkkk!” You chant as you feel incredibly close to the edge and a tear falls down the corner of your eye when he moans around your clit and the vibration of it is what tips you over.

Your legs shake uncontrollably as you cum, his left arm having to keep you propped up so he can fuck you through it but you’re cumming so hard, you yell his name over and over until you go limp and collapse in bed, completely exhausted.

“Such a good girl.” He praises you, dropping kisses on your back and rubbing circles on your ass cheek to soothe the soreness he left after spanking you that hard.

“Let me turn you around, yeah?” He softly speaks in a whisper in your ear and, in your completely fucked out state, you can only mumble incoherently and nod.

You don’t even register the way he giggles when you groan and call him mean as he turns you around, your ears only stop ringing almost a minute later, which he’s spent kissing all over your flushed skin, you hear him say, “You did so well, babe.”

Your eyes are lost, looking all over his face and a stupid smile tugs at the corners of your lips when you remember how you’ve gotten here.

He smiles back at you, and he leans in closer to your face so he can whisper, “You wanna taste yourself?” as if it was a little secret of yours.

The erotism of the offer makes you perk up and you nod, biting on your bottom lip as his hand dips down to gather your arousal with two fingers by dragging them up your folds.

“Suck.” He tells you once his hand comes up before your mouth and his slick covered fingers are entirely at your disposal.

You part your mouth for him to slip his fingers inside it and you moan around him the second you get a taste of yourself. He continues pushing his long fingers into your mouth until you gag when he hits the back of your throat, your eyes filling up with tears as you look up at him.

“So fucking perfect.” He praises you and he’s about to pull back but you bob your head up and down his digits and he curses under his breath. His fingers slip out of your mouth to cup your jaw, fingers digging on your cheeks as he says, “Fucking come here.” before he smashes your lips together hungrily.

Your head is still a bit gone after that orgasm, but you manage to keep up the pace he sets on the kiss, and you both can’t stop moaning when you taste your arousal on each other’s tongues. Your hands cup his jaw and you’re massively turned on by the mess your wetness has left on his beard.

After everything, you have almost forgotten about how he’s not gotten any relief yet, until his hips buck forwards and press into your sensitive core and you feel him rock hard against you.

Ross swallows a whimper you let out when his hard on presses on your overstimulated clit again but then his hips still for a second when one of your hands comes down between you and you start palming him over his trousers.

A guttural groan rumbles from the depths of his chest when your fingers wrap around his length over the fabric and he really has no self restraint left in him anymore so he starts thrusting up into your hand in search of relief.

You apply more pressure around him with your fingers and he stops kissing you, so he can let moans out against your mouth.

“Shit…” He mutters under his breath, the veins on his neck popping as he continues to buck his hips into your touch, meeting your strokes in the middle.

You hum in approval of his action, pecking his parted lips as you quicken your pace but that’s when he comes back around his senses and he stops moving.

Seeing that he stops, you slow down and a frown starts to show on your face. Thankfully, he looks at you through half lidded eyes and panting, he explains, “If you keep doing that I'm gonna cum in my pants.”

You clench around nothing at the prospect of him cumming inside you, so your hand leaves his cock alone to cup his jaw again and, fluttering your lashes at him, you plead, “Fill me up. Please.”

It’s animalistic, the growl he lets out and you gasp when he’s on your mouth again. Desperation, lust, need, is all you can think of when his lips move roughly against yours, his tongue almost fighting yours from how intent he moves.

And it has you speechless when he pulls back, struggling to catch your breath as he leaves you in bed to go over his bedside table and dig in the drawers for a condom. You tilt your head back to watch him finish undressing himself and your mouth goes dry when seeing the size of him.

Fuck me, is all you can think when you see him in all his glory.

He’s painfully hard, so swollen you can imagine the heaviness of him on your tongue. You almost start drooling thinking about how he might taste like, his tip already waking precum and you swear you would offer him to use your mouth as a mere hole so he can relieve himself after giving you the orgasm he did.

The muscles in his arms flex when he rolls the latex down his length, a groan of his ringing in the room and it travels right down between your legs.

When he’s back in bed, he kneels in front of you so the front of his thighs are flush against the back of yours and from that you were expecting him to take you in missionary but a split second later, you’re gasping when he twists your lower half to the side so one of your legs rests on its side right next to his and your other leg he lifts up when he hooks it on the crook of his arm.

With his left hand, Ross wraps his fingers around himself and brings his cock down to run down your folds, teasing your hole with a faint push of his tip.

“Ross…” You beg without the proper words, and he takes pity on you by dragging himself up again until he gets to your clit and he taps on it with the tip, making you gasp in pleasure.

It feels like ages pass when he keeps doing all of that, a cycle that makes your head dizzy but then he sees you flutter around nothing and he can’t wait anymore to sink himself inside you.

So he aligns himself and slowly, sinks an inch of his inside your cunt. “Fuck me, you’re so tight Y/N/N.” He curses loudly as inch by inch you welcome him but, not even with how wet you are, it’s a struggle to push himself deep inside you.

One of your hands grips tightly at the duvet while the other comes to grab ahold of the arm with which he’s lifting your leg up. He’s stretching you out so good, you’re tearing up again and your jaw goes slack, “Oh Ross!”

“You feel like fucking heaven, love.” His words sound strangled as he pushes the last of himself in and when he bottoms out, he stills. Hips flush against your ass, his pubic hair tickling you when he adjusts his standing on his knees and it earns him a loud whine from you when he moves inside you slightly from that.

You curse and pant, relaxing slowly and when he feels your walls finally accepting his girth and size, he kisses your calf so he can have your attention and get an answer when he asks, “Can I move?”

“Mhm.” You hum as you nod, eyes screwed shut at the feeling of him. But that means you don’t see as he lifts your leg further up until he props it on his shoulder and it’s when he leans into you the slightest bit that your eyes open wide at the angle.

“Ross, fuck! Move, please, move.” You desperately spit out, loudly so he doesn’t have a chance to mishear you.

And he does as you say, slowly dragging himself out of you a few inches before sinking back in. Your toes curl and your grip on the duvet and his arm grows tighter when he gives you a few more slow thrusts, a loud moan ripping out of your throat when he increases his pace a little.

The sounds in the room are lewd but they start getting pornographic when he leans forward further until his left hand comes to rest on the mattress right by your waist and his right hand presses your leg against his chest so it stays propped up on his shoulder.

From this angle, you feel him everywhere and you’re almost sure that if you looked down you could see him poking out into your belly when he pounds particularly harder on you.

“Like you were fucking made for me.” Ross says out into the air as he easily glides in and out of you, your wetness allowing him to increase his speed little by little and you’re gasping and moaning as his hips slam into you.

In between gasps, which he draws out of you with every snap of his hips, you manage to beg, “Don’t stop baby, please.”

“I won’t, I won’t” He promises, there’s not even a hint of stopping this in his mind, not when your walls hug him so perfectly and you clench around him when his pubic bone presses on your clit as he pounds into you.

“Can you take it harder, babe?” He asks sweetly, his lips leaving open mouthed kisses on your calf as if to offer some soothing in comparison to the way he has you folded.

Through half lidded eyes you look up at him, brows furrowed in pleasure, and you chant, “I can, yes, I can.”

The tone in your voice encourages him and he calls you, “Perfect girl.” before he draws almost completely out of you only to slam back inside you harshly.

“Fuckkkkk!!!” You yell, your back arching into him as he fucks you hard. His cock fills you up and stretches you out deliciously but the harshness of every thrusts feels like he’s splitting you open just like you had imagined, and you truly can’t think of anything better happening to you right now.

You're so close to your orgasm, your walls are closing tightly around him and Ross groaning and moaning like a mad man over you at the tightness of your cunt. And at the sight of it all, your skin glistening with sweat, the way your tits bounce as he thrusts into you, your pretty lips wet and parted with a string of spit dribbling down the corner of your mouth. He wants to kiss you so badly right now, but he doesn’t want to hurt you by folding you more than you are right now.

But you’re squeezing his cock so tight, it’s driving him insane.

“M’gonna cum Y/N.” He lets you know with a strangled moan, his fingers clutching onto your leg tightly and you feel him desperately speeding up in chase of his release.

You whine loudly and agree, “Me too, I’m so close.” nails digging in the flesh of his arm, and the hint of pain is what sends him over.

It’s a mess of grunts and moans as he cums, his cock twitching inside you as he spills into the condom and it’s the raw filth of the scene that snaps the coil that had been forming in your lower stomach.

You cum all over his cock, your name being the only cohesive word coming out of your mouth and turning into moans as he continues slamming his hips into you.

You’re too sensitive now but Ross has been holding back for so long, he feels like he hasn’t fully let go yet so he picks up his pace again and fucks fast and hard into your cunt, making you scream his name along with a string of curses.

He wants you milking every single drop out of him so he lets go of your leg, trusting that it’ll stay up on his shoulder and brings his hand down to your heat so he can play with your clit. The fast circles he rubs on it earn him high pitch cries from you but you squeeze his cock impossibly tighter and he growls as he continues to cum.

It’s all so much, and you’re soon feeling a second orgasm looming on you with the speed of the fastest roller coaster you could imagine until you can’t hold onto your sanity any longer and you just let go.

“Ross! Fuck!” Your scream bounces on the walls of the room as you cum, your release so intense you squirt all over his hand, wetting his thighs and drenching the duvet.

“That’s it! That’s it!” He chants as his thrusts falter, his fingers still rapidly flicking at your clit and you give him all that you’ve got.

He feels dizzy when he stops, almost like you’ve sucked even the life out of him with your cunt and he has to take a few deep breaths before he can gather his thoughts. Though his one and only thought right now is “Fuck, Y/N/N, you’re so hot.”

Ross allows you both a few seconds to catch your breaths before he pulls out of you, and you whine at the loss of him. You find your hazy mind managing to conjure the thought that you would do anything to feel him like that again and again and again.

Very carefully, he grabs your leg and brings it down on the bed, and he chuckles softly when you’re just laying there limply like a rag doll. Your skin is flushed and sweaty, and your chest heaves as you collect yourself.

The bassist crawls on the bed and hovers over you to start dropping kisses all over your face, brushing the hair that’s sticking to your skin back and watching the way your eyes flutter shut at the touch with adoration.

“Are you okay, love?” He makes sure to ask you, thumb caressing the apple of your cheek sweetly.

“Mhm.” It’s the only thing you can trust yourself uttering right now, simple and easy to understand unlike the knot of thoughts in your brain at the moment.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says genuinely, drinking in every detail of your face in the state you’re in. You smile softly at him, your eyes struggling to open since you’re so spent.

But you’re not surprised when he adds with a hint of awe in his voice, “Milking me dry and drenching me like that? Such a good girl.”

You giggle at his words, shaking your head in amusement at him. He’s such a boy.

He dips his head to capture your lips in a sweet brief kiss and then he’s pulling back, whispering “I’ll be right back okay?” against your lips.

He waits for you to give him an answer, which is just a simple nod since you’re still trying to gather your wits, and then he’s off the bed walking out of his room.

There aren't any clues about where he’s off to circling your mind, instead you’re trying to get your brain to work again. And of course, the second you find yourself coming back to reality, the first thing that flashes to the forefront of your mind is the image of him relentlessly pounding into you.

His brows furrowed and accentuating the wrinkles on his forehead and by his eyes, his mouth parted and letting his beautiful moans escape, strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty face.

You find yourself heating up head to toe again, and you know right then that you’ll be thinking of him on lonely nights when all you have at your disposal is your vibrator and your fingers to bring you pleasure.

Ross coming back into his room startles you out of your filthy memories of merely a few minutes before. He’s got a rag in hand that you find has been wet with warm water once it makes contact with your sensitive core.

“Sorry.” He says softly when you flinch as he wipes you clean and it makes you smile like an idiot.

You bite your bottom lip and hold your breath when he grazes your clit again so you don’t react badly and once he’s back on your inner thighs, you breathe out, “S’alright. Thank you.”

When he deems his work done, he offers you his hand so he can help you up and you thank him yet again when you’re up on wobbly legs. His hand doesn’t leave yours and instead of just telling you where the bathroom is, he guides you to it, kissing you before you can close the door behind you.

It doesn’t take you that long to do everything you have to do in the bathroom, feeling refreshed when you throw some water on your face and pat it dry. You run your fingers through your hair to try and tame it, you bite your bottom lip thinking about him waiting for you in his room and without more time to waste, you’re out of the bathroom and walking back to him.

The first thing you notice when you’re back in his room is that he’s taken the duvet somewhere else, which you expect to be to the wash since you drenched it as you came the last time.

Ross looks at you expectantly, patting the empty side of the bed while lays on his side with his head propped on the palm of his hand.

You giggle at him, raising a brow as you question him, “What? You like cuddles after sex?”

“I do so come here.” He demands lifting the sheets up for you to get under them and you comply. As soon as you come to rest on the mattress, he snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you in so you’re pressed flush against him, turning you around slightly so you can spoon.

A warmth coats your insides and seeps through your pores, and a hum of bliss manages to slip past your lips against your wishes. You like the contrast in his behavior, you find it so fucking sexy that he can get you to oblige to every one of his words during sex but be a sweetheart afterwards.

You’re relishing in the feeling for a bit, your eyes growing heavy when suddenly you remember where you have to go tomorrow morning—or later in the morning, more like since it’s already past one in the morning.

“I have to be home early by the way.” Your words are soft, more like you’re just letting him know instead of a warning.

You feel the way he cranes his neck up as if to look at you over your shoulder, “You’re gonna try to sneak out on me?”

In all honesty, you’re gutted you even promised your sister you’d go to your parents’ house around eleven in the morning so you could go out for brunch to spend the first day of the year around your family, but he doesn’t have to know you’re kinda considering bailing on your family so you shrug, “I might.”

He groans and pulls you impossibly closer to him, almost like he’s trying to cage you and trap you so you don’t go. And it makes you open your eyes to giggle when he doesn’t budge or say anything for a whole minute so you find yourself reiterating, “I mean it when I say I have plans early tomorrow.”

You’re not sure what you’re expecting him to say, maybe a ‘Alright, I had fun with you, let’s sleep and you can leave whenever you want but I’m gonna stay asleep.’ or ‘Sure, but let me know before you leave so I know you’ve gone and I can lock the door behind you’, anything along those lines.

However, the words coming out of his mouth are sassy and definitive, “Yeah, you can reschedule that.”

And you’re scoffing at the confidence he has at saying that. It’s hot, you think but god, the nerve.

“Bold of you to assume I wanna.” You play with him. You do want to reschedule, though it’s more leaning towards canceling on your family at this point.

“Would it help if I said please?” He bargains efficiently, a sweetness laced around his words that you know it’s just to get you to twist your arm.

Suddenly, he’s no longer pressed on your back. He hovers over you and without much of a warning, traps you in a needy kiss, almost like he’s pleading for you to do what he’s saying.

One of his legs weaves in the middle of yours and with how he’s leaning into you, his thigh presses on your cunt, the friction of his thigh on your overstimulated clit elicits a moan out of you that he takes as a good sign.

So he pulls back, stealing one last peck from your lips to ask, “Can you reschedule whatever tomorrow morning is? Please?” He puts on his best puppy eyes, a pout forming on his lips and it’s so hard trying not to fold instantly.

You force yourself to appear nonchalant, smirking up at him to challenge him, “Keep this up and I might consider it.”

No more words are needed for him to continue, his next strategy being kissing down your neck onto your collarbone. “Greedy,” He starts saying planting another kiss on your collarbone, “Greedy,” He mumbles against your skin but this time pressing a kiss between your breasts, and he moves to the side slowly, tip of his nose and beard tickling you as he moves, “Girl” He finishes his sentence before biting on the top of your right breast making you gasp.

The moment his teeth leave your skin free, his tongue licks over the bite mark he’s left one you and, weakly, you admit, “Maybe I can reschedule.”

“I can work with a maybe.” He mutters smugly, his tongue flicking on your nipple once, his right hand holding your hip tightly.

You shiver beneath him, your eyes closing as he flicks it once more, “Sure you can.” Your words are laced with sarcasm as you try your best to act cool about it but he’s watching you through his lashes and he’s certainly happy with himself for making you crumble like this so easily.

His hold on your hips loosens up and it slowly inches closer to your core, you’re almost shaking in anticipation at the ghostly touch of his fingers over your mound and you barely hear him say, “I can,” just as he dips a finger inside you.

“Fuck…” You moan in response, feeling his fingers inside you again threatening to have you stupid all over again.

He watches the way your face contorts in pleasure with his lips parting agape, his cock twitching at the sight. He drags his finger slowly in and out of you a few times before curling it inside you, smirking when a loud mewl comes from you and your hands come to grip on his shoulders tightly.

“That good?” He’s taunting you and you know it, and you’re expecting him to continue doing just that. It’s no surprise to you that just to push you further into giving into him, he adds a second finger.

“Oh fuck, Ross.” You breathe out, your nails digging into his back, “Feels so good.” You finally answer, one of your hands coming up the back of his neck to grab at his hair and pull on it.

He hums, continuing to patiently fuck you with his fingers and due to how overly sensitive you still are, that familiar knot has started to tighten in your lower stomach.

You’re practically holding him in place, so he doesn’t even think of pulling away just when you’re about to come but this time, Ross thinks about just having fun with your overstimulation and he wonders how fast you’d cum if he wrapped his lips around your nipples at the same time as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you.

The second he catches your nipple in his mouth, your back arches off the bed, goosebumps breaking on your skin as he sucks on it. It’s dizzying when he lets it go to flick on it with the tip of his tongue and then bites on it mercilessly.

“Ross! Fuck!” You don’t think you’ll last much longer if he continues what he’s doing, and he knows it from how you’re squirming beneath him and the way you’re clenching around his fingers.

So he moves onto your other nipple, repeating the process and it’s that, along with his hand picking up its pace that you convulse under him as you cum yet again tonight.

“Yes, Y/N/N. Just like that, babe.” Your ears barely register him saying sweet nothings into your ear as you come down from you high, his fingers slowly riding you out of it.

Until you can’t take it anymore and you’re pushing his hand away from you. Ross hears your silent plea to stop and he slowly drags his fingers out of your cunt. You manage to peel your eyes open just when he’s licking his fingers clean, lapping at every drop of your cum on his hand intently.

“Is it rescheduled now?” He asks you as if you’re not completely fucked out again, and he’s so smug seeing you this way, it makes you want to scream.

Yet he’s got you so stupefied that you don’t even find yourself able to keep playing along with him, instead you pant and nod, “It is. It definitely is.”

That’s all he wanted and he lets you know with the shit eating grin he has on his face, along with the sultry, “Good girl.” he offers you as praise.

He kisses you again, almost like a thank you but the meaning is lost on you when you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan into his mouth, pulling on his hair once again and this time managing to let his hair fall down freely when you tug off the hairband that kept it in its bun.

Of course, Ross complains, with a groan that you ignore being one to call you out for what you’ve done. But then your hands are both lost in his hair, soft and long strands of jet black hair tangled between your fingers and you pull on it harshly like you’d been dying to do all night.

His groans are like music to your ears, but then you realize what’s just happened again and you pull on his hair, only this time is so that you can break the kiss and scorn him, “You’re such a prick, now I gotta go back to the bathroom.”

You’re too lazy to pick yourself up from the warm bed to clean yourself up again and pee, you roll your eyes just thinking about having to do all that when you’re exhausted after all your activities tonight.

Your complaint falls on deaf ears, since he only focuses on what you’ve called him and he warns you, “Call me that again and you’ll see what happens.”

A scoff is the only answer you given him, before you’re pushing him off you—he doesn’t even budge when you do so, you have to whine and ask him to move with a please added by the end for him to let you go—and going to the bathroom to freshen yourself up yet again.

When you come back, you snort seeing the same thing happen as the first time around but this time you just silently go along with his wishes. He holds you tightly against his front with one of his arms around your waist, one of his legs comes to tangle between yours and he presses a bunch of kisses to the back of your neck before nuzzling into it and willing himself to get some sleep.

“I ain’t quite done with you yet.” Ross whispers against your skin, drinking in your scent.

Your eyes are heavy and his limbs over your body come to feel like a weighted blanket that has you more sleep than awake at this point, yet you still manage to let out a bubbly giggle and you whisper back, “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Definitely a promise, love.” He replies breathily, the hair in the back of your neck rises in goosebumps at the prospect of it all and a tingly feeling starts bubbling in your stomach.

You’re not sure what awaits you when you wake up in the morning, but if it’s anything like what’s happened so far then…

It’s a very Happy New Year to you.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N: I'm not even sure what to say other than I hope you enjoyed lol. Now I'm off to drown myself in a tub full of holy water to cleanse my soul and repent for days on end, I think you lot should do so too. I'm incredibly excited to see your reactions, they are always so great and they make me giggle and kick my feet. Thanks a million for reading as always my darlings, and I hope you have a lovely week! xx

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @red---moon @drinkurkombucha @vinylandcoffeecollection @better--oblivions @kennedy-brooke @faveficz @indierockgirrl @nikisfwn @hereyeswerefilledwiththestars @toomuchracket @llangelsrolltheireyes06ll @megs5678 @theoriginalwhatsername @findmeincorneliastreet @therossmacdonaldeffect @butyou-callmewhenyourebored​ 

#ross macdonald #ross #macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald x you #ross macdonald x yn #ross macdonald oneshot #ross macdonald drabble #ross macdonald blurb #ross macdonald imagine #ross macdonald smut #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald the 1975 #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fanfiction #the 1975 imagine #matty healy #adam hann #george daniel

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie - Reading List Weeks 161 -162

Welcome to Weeks 161 & 162

A/N: I just want to thank everyone who gave me recommendations for new authors and mutual authors fanfics. I found so many authors that I already have a list for next week! 💜

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Header by @fictional-affairs

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Inferno - (Andy x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Bucky Oneshot - @angrythingstarlight

Ari Oneshot - @biteofcherry

Opening the heart - (Wanda x Victor Von Doom) - @nekoannie-chan

Real Life Tasks With Ransom - Day 16 - @wiypt-writes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

The Root of all Ransom - Part 4 - (Ransom x Reader) - @ronearoundblindly

Though I Have Never Read It - Part 3 - (Bucky x Reader) - @tuiccim

Threadbare - Part 3 - (Steve x Reader) - @ronearoundblindly

The Barracuda - (Andy x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Love in Lace - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Light It Up - (Curtis x Reader) - @navybrat817

What Happens in Vegas - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Before you - Normal ending - (Steve x Reader) - @holylulusworld

A (not) good cake slice - (Wanda x Steve) - @nekoannie-chan

Taking It All - (Nick x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Love, Love, Love - (Ari x Reader) - @flordeamatista

Want you to want me - (Ari x Reader) - @sunshinebuckybarnes

Under the Clouds - (Lee x Reader) - @tumblin-theworldaway

Ari Drabble - @late-to-the-party-81

Ex-factor - (Curtis x Reader) - @syntheticavenger

Lee Bodecker Oneshot - @lunarbuck

Close Quarters - (Jake x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Playing With Fire - (Ari x Reader) - @flordeamatista

On My Mind - (Bucky x Reader) - @targaryenvampireslayer

"Are we friends?" "I don't think so" - @nekoannie-chan

No One, But Me - (Lloyd x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

Bathtime - (Curtis x Reader) - @boxofbonesfic

Meet Me at Our Spot - (Andy x Reader) - @geniedetails

Open Up - (Ari x Black! Reader) - @galatially

Shades of Gray - @spectre-posts @what-is-your-plan-today

3 Billion Divorce - Part 5 - (Lloyd x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Collared part 18 - @spnexploration

Fresh Fallen Snow, Part 5 - (Curtis x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

Hands off - Part 5 - (Stucky x Reader) - @darsynia

Twice (Nick x Reader) - @andydrysdalerogers

And Mine You Shall Be - (Steve x Reader) - @wint3r-h3art

No One Special - (Lee x Reader) - @springdandelixn

Should've - (Lee x Reader) - @shadeysprings

Breakfast in Bed - @fluffyprettykitty

Sign the Dotted Line - (Andy x Reader) - @navybrat817

Special Delivery - (Mr Freezy x Reader) - @xxindiglow

staying in - (Bucky x Reader) - @bucky-bucket-barnes

Destroyer!Chris drabble - @biteofcherry

Midnight Surprise - (Bucky x Reader) - @theimaginesyouneveraskedfor

40’s!Bucky Drabble - @pellucid-constellations

#saiyanprincessswanie #recommended reading #missy reads #missy reblogs #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #curtis everett x reader #jake jensen x reader #ari levinson x reader #lee bodecker x reader #mr freezy x reader #nick fowler x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #stucky x reader #andy barber x reader #destroyer chris x reader

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

You Are My Soulmate

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Status: In Progress

Last Updated: March 6th, 2024

Disclaimers: Female!Reader

A/N: This is a Soulmate!AU with a spin. Instead of having a single soulmark, a quarter of the population have multiple. Tinkerbell and Rooster are two of those people. I love Soulmate AUs, and well, the Top Gun Brain-Rot is still ever present, so here we go. This one is going to be a bit different for me, as I'm going to be trying out flipping perspectives within the chapters between Rooster and Tinkerbell (Reader's Nickname throughout the fic).

Themes: Angst, Smut, Soulmate!AU, Bradley is a bit of a dick, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Unrequited Love (Slight, One-Sided)

Summary: You're ecstatic when you find out you have five soul indicators at midnight on the day of your twenty-first birthday, right before you start Officer Candidate School for the Navy in Rhode Island. OCS is so complex you can’t devote time to searching for your soulmate. On graduating from Officer Candidate School, Naval Aviation Command School, and Aviation Maintenance School at the top of your class, you are given the primary selection of detachment and travel worldwide as an Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer. The excitement you felt on your twenty-first birthday has changed over the past seven years, and you’re impatient to see who your soul is. After years of constant movement, it’s a relief to learn you have been assigned to run maintenance on a squadron’s planes out of Naval Air Station North Island. San Diego is sunny and gorgeous, an absolute dream after being stuck on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean for the past six months. The Dagger Squad is a newly-permanent squadron based out of NAS North Island. Each member welcomed you to Miramar as a part of their maintenance crew with warmth and friendliness. Except for one pilot, callsign: Rooster. He’s the most unpleasant pilot you’ve ever met. He’s full of himself, cocky, arrogant, rude, and condescending. If only he didn’t feel so familiar. If only you didn’t feel so drawn to him. 

Bradley Bradshaw is sure he’s never going to find his soulmate. He’d been in mourning on his twenty-first birthday, still grieving the loss of his mother, followed by the loss of the only father he’d ever known, his Uncle Mav. It isn’t until Bradley is across the country at Officer Candidate School that he realizes he never received his soul indicators. Years later, and thousands of miles away, recovering from a plane crash, Bradley, now known as Rooster, jolts awake to the half-remembered scent of citrus and glistening hair in a thick braid. Without any other indicators, Rooster gives up. After all, who’d want a soul disfigured by something they loved? That’s when Bradley gives up. He sinks into the reputation of the piano-playing, mustachioed casanova and gives up on his dreams of finding a love like his parents had found in each other. And he’s content with his life until he runs into the feisty, loud AMDO officer newly assigned to NASNI. Something about her feels like everything Bradley’s been searching for, at least, if she weren’t completely committed to Bagman already. You can call him what you want, but Rooster doesn’t steal another man’s girl.

You Are My Soulmate on AO3

You Are My Soulmate on Wattpad

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 2 - Rooster

Chapter 3 - Rooster

Chapter 3 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 5 - Rooster

Chapter 6 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 6 - Rooster

Chapter 7 - Tinkerbell

Chapter 7 - Rooster

Taglist is Open!

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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #star screaming about top gun #you are my soulmate #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster angst #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #unrequited love #soulmates #soulmate!au #angst #enemies to lovers #miscommunication

[bluerosetarot]

Everyone on Task Force 141 knew you had a date tonight since you'd been going on and on about it for the past week, so when you come back to base with puffy cheeks and eyes still red from crying a certain someone comes to comfort you.

Tags: female reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley, hurt/comfort, mild descriptions of violence (Simon wants to hurt whoever hurt you, after all), PIV rebound sex.

Tagging @the-californicationist because you wanted me to tag you once I posted this.

You hadn't been with the task force for long, but your presence had certainly had an impact on the team as a whole in the year and a half you'd been around. Being the youngest and shortest had earned you official "little sister" status despite the fact you could toss all of them around at hand to hand practice thanks to your lower center of gravity and aikido background, with the exception of Simon. That man was not only tall but was surprisingly flexible, which you took as a personal challenge.

"One of these days I'm going to topple you, Ghost." You'd all just come back from a sparring match and were sitting around a table enjoying your beverages of choice.

"Of course you will, sweet'eart." He'd smile behind his cuppa without looking at you, but you could see the slight wrinkles around the corners of his eyes. "An' one 'a these days Price'll start layin' golden eggs so we can all retire."

So imagine everyone's surprise when you mention you were seeing someone, a civvie you'd met on a dating app. You'd been gushing over your crush and hadn't noticed Soap playfully nudge Simon in his side or the glare the taller man gave him in return.

"Going out to see him on next leave, said he wanted to take me somewhere nice for dinner. And before any of you try anything I don't need backup, or shadowed, or anything else. I know we're all a little paranoid here but I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"Not you we'd be worried about, luv." Gaz gave you a knowing smile before continuing. "We're worried about the poor guy getting folded like a pretzel if 'is 'ands go anywhere they shouldn't, y'know?"

It took you a few months before you could properly go on a date; a mission got in the way, but you promised your new beau that as soon as you got back from your classified trip you'd be all his. Whenever you could, you messaged him, even sending him a few spicy pictures over the course of your flirting.

When the special night finally came around, you snuck off to your quarters to put on a lovely little black dress and did your makeup as best you could. Taking a look at yourself in the mirror, you psyched yourself up and inwardly hoped that you wouldn't run into anyone on your way out. That hope was quickly dashed upon the rocks of reality when you nearly ran into the brick wall named Ghost as you left the washroom.

"Bloody Jesus, Ghost. Trying to give me a heart attack?"

His answer was to scoff under his mask and lean against the wall beside you, those brown eyes of his looking you over as he slowly shook his head.

"Got no place to 'ide a knife, gun, or anythin' else. Sure you don't need any backup, luv?"

"I appreciate your concern, LT, but I should be fine."

He backed away with a chuckle, not expecting your tone to be so dry and he held up his hands in an appeasing gesture.

"Roight, roight. Well, knock 'im dead, luv. But if you aren't back by midnight, we'll all assume you turned into a pumpkin 'an start a search party. Deal?"

"Deal."

Your date went a bit... less than stellar. When you arrived at the restaurant, he'd been nearly a half hour late and was dressed more casual than you, but you weren't used to being all dolled up either so you gave him the benefit of the doubt. Conversation was minimal with him mostly talking about himself as you sat there bored until he hit you with a bombshell.

"You're hot like this, but now that you're my girl you're going to have to give up this whole military thing."

You'd been about to take a bite of food and nearly dropped your fork from laughing at what you thought was a joke, but he just got irritated.

"I'm serious. You can't go wasting your prime childbearing years pretending to be an action hero."

"Excuse me?" You matched his tone, a bit of annoyance seeping into your words. "What happened to you going nuts over my career plans? How you said you always liked a 'girl in uniform'?"

"Uniforms are hot, but I figured once we met, you'd realize you wanted a nice civilian life and leave all that fantasy behind you."

"Uh-huh..." Flagging down your waiter, you asked for the check. "I'll take my half of the check, please. This date is over."

"You can't just fucking leave!"

"I can..." Giving your card to the waiter, you then locked eyes with your sad excuse for a date. "And I will. See? I'm doing it right now."

Once your tab had been taken care of, you made a beeline for the door with the guy chasing after you, yelling at you to change your mind. He made the mistake of trying to grab your wrist, and you managed an aikido move that brought him down to a knee.

"You don't get to touch me that way, got it?"

You'd leaned down to stare daggers into him, a look you'd perfected from watching Ghost, and your failed date nodded in fear as he got up and backed away.

Turning on your heel, you made it to your car and closed the door before slumping over your steering wheel with a sigh. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of sadness and anger. Willing yourself to wait until you got back to base for a good cry, you started the car and headed back but couldn't help a few stray tears from rolling down your cheeks.

It was a little past 2300 when you got back to base and, to your disappointment, there were a few lights still on. You'd hoped to take your walk of shame without anyone noticing, but fate had other plans. You hadn't realized that everyone in 141 was worried for you and stayed up to wait for you to come home.

Which meant that you opened the door to the common area, and four sets of eyes instantly looked up at you. All of them taking note of your tear streaked makeup making you feel warm and nervous.

Soap was the first one to speak up, cutting the tension with a joke.

"Aye, lass, who we needin' to knife up for ya?"

Price sat to his right and gave him a very good "not now" look as you clenched your jaw in annoyance.

"Don't want to talk about it." You turned to the Captain and gave him a polite nod. "Heading to bed, sir."

Taking a thoughtful puff of his cigar, he returned your nod.

"Right, everyone here should do the same. Lights out, everyone."

Gaz and Soap reluctantly got up. You could read it plain as day on their faces they wanted to pepper you with a thousand questions, but stern looks from both Price and Ghost made them think twice, and they both wished you a good night and hurried off to their rooms. Price followed after them after giving you one final concerned glance before heading down the hall.

It was Ghost that put a comforting hand on your shoulder. He had a way of sneaking up on everyone even when he was in plain sight, and this situation was no different. You tried your best to compose yourself before meeting his gaze, but something in his eyes made you break down when your eyes met and you let out a soft sound somewhere between a cry and a whimper.

"Fucking christ, look at me. All bent out of shape over little more than a schoolyard crush."

"If 'e 'urt ya I know plenty a places to hide a body 'round 'ere."

Where Soap has been jovial, you could tell Ghost was serious, and you couldn't stop an involuntary shiver creep down your spine before shaking your head.

"Not worth the effort, Ghost. But I appreciate it. Damn chauvinist thought I'd get one look at him and want to stop all my work here and pop out babies."

That got a laugh from the larger man, a deep rumble in his chest.

"Th' public doesn't realize all tha' we do to keep the world spinnin', luv. If you 'ad never joined up with us, who knows 'ow our missions would've gone. You've been damn good at not only covering our sixes on multiple occasions but..."

He trailed off, catching himself before he said something further. But this only made you more curious since this was the most words you'd ever hear the man string together outside of mission briefings.

"But what?"

"But... christ this is a bit embarrassing but you remind all of us what we're fightin' for, y'know? You remind us that we aren't just killin' machines an' that we're 'uman. That we do this to protect 'umanity, outside and within. Y' deserve someone who understands tha', not some chav bloke who sees y' as just a baby factory."

The hand that was on your shoulder went up to smooth his short hair back as his eyes looked away from yours. You thanked whatever god was up there that he did because he didn't see the blush creeping into your cheeks.

"Uhh... th-thanks, Ghost."

Those eyes locked back onto yours, and you could see the telltale crinkle of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that betrayed his smile.

"Y' can call me Simon, luv. Just between the two of us, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll keep that in mind."

A heavy sigh left your lips, and you gave him a small smile.

"Simon. Think, uh... think you would want to join me for a bit tonight? It's been nice talking to someone who understands what's going on in my head."

That got an eyebrow raise from him, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Y' propositionin' your commanding officer now?"

His tone was low, tinted with humor, but his rough voice made it sound suggestive all the same. He left the question open, and it emboldened your reply.

"Well I need someone to really show me the difference between a "chav bloke" and a real man, don't I?"

With a look over his shoulder down the hall towards the barracks proper, no doubt making sure everyone else was already in bed, he nodded and gestured for you to lead the way.

"Ladies first, luv."

That earned him a playful punch in the arm, and you grabbed his hand in yours, leading him down the hall to your quarters.

Once inside your room with the door shut tight behind you, Simon was looming over you, pressing your body to the wall. In the dim light of your room you could barely see his eyes as they looked you over once more while his hand came up to cup your cheek.

"Y' sure about this, luv? Not that I mind bein' a rebound but I want to make sure y' really want this..."

He knew how to catch you off guard, that's for sure, and you gave him a reassuring nod. Your own hand reaching up to glide along his that caressed your face so gently, a welcome juxtaposition to his normally cold demeanor.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm actually glad that you, uh..."

Now it was your turn to stifle words better left unsaid, though those swallowed words turned into heat and crimson on your neck and cheeks as embarrassment kept you from saying what was really on your mind.

In truth you'd always had a "thing" for the big badass types, the "scary dogs", outcasts, loners, and Gho- Simon, you reminded yourself, ticked off all the boxes to pique your interest. He'd always given off just enough tidbits about himself, crumbs that you had devoured in the fire of your curiosity that only proved to stoke it into a further inferno. The date you'd gone on tonight? He was meant to be a distraction from the man you couldn't have had, shouldn't have been able to have, yet here he was gazing down into your very soul in your quarters.

"Glad? Glad for wha', luv?"

Simon had picked up on that thread you left dangling and you could hear the smirk in his voice as he pressed further. Both his body squeezing against you and his words pressing the opening he'd found.

"Glad y' got th' big, scary Ghost as y' own personal toy for th' night? Glad that you'll get to experience a real man in y' bed tonoight?"

Each word brought his face closer to yours and you watched as his hand slid from your cheek to his mask, pulling it down past his mouth and finally letting you see his face. Your mind went blank for a second as you took in his features for the brief moment he hovered in front of you before he buried his face in your neck to kiss the sensitive skin there.

The kiss was gentle, lips pressing to your jugular as your heart raced so fast you could swear he'd be able to feel your pulse through his lips. Even gentle as it was you couldn't stop the soft sound that escaped your own lips.

"Am I on the money, sweet'eart? You been 'oping I'd get jealous or somethin' like that?"

Teeth grazed against your neck and a jolt of pleasurable lightning raced down your spine.

"Well... between you an' me... I've been very jealous, luv. 'Ere I thought some young bloke was gonna steal you away from us, from me, before I got to show you 'ow I felt about you..."

As his lips and teeth continued to explore your neck his hand grabbed yours and brought it down to palm at his tented trousers, the size of him made you gasp involuntarily and you felt his low rumbling laughter deep in his chest.

"S-simon... I've never had someone so... so... big before."

"Don't worry, sweet'eart... I'll take my time and show you 'ow a true gentleman treats a lady like yourself."

Simon picked you up with ease, walking the few steps to the bed and setting you down on the edge. No sooner had your backside met the mattress he was hiking up that short black dress over your thighs to expose the matching black lace panties you had worn.

"You were plannin' on spoilin' that bloke tonight, weren't you, sweet'eart? Or, an' correct me if I'm wrong..."

His thick, calloused fingers pressed against your clothed slit, finding your nub and rubbing it through the scant cotton and lace as his eyes locked onto yours again.

"...Or were you 'opin' that 'e'd left you alone and that this exact scenario would 'appen, you comin' back to base wantin' me to 'elp you feel better?"

"F-fuck, Simon... I... ahh... that's n-not what I was hoping for at all..."

He rolled his eyes, not believing you, and slid the panties aside to slide one finger inside to entice a moan from you.

"Christ! Fine, yes, I.. I wanted my date to be you tonight... but how am I supposed to bring that up? Just walk up to you and say "hey, LT, how's about a shag tonight after supper?""

That earned you a second finger inside and another laugh.

"I knew y' were a brat at trainin' but damn am I glad you aren't a shrinkin' violet in the bedroom. Makes this more fun."

For what felt like an eternity he slowly widened you in preparation for his shaft. Simon was a patient man, for the most part, but those moans and sounds you were making for him and him alone were wearing down that patience. Still, he had promised to treat you like a proper lady and only when he could slide three fingers inside easily did he stop his work.

"Do us a favor and clean these off for me, luv. My mouth 'as more important things t' do."

Unceremoniously he slid his slickened fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself as he leaned down to bury his face between your legs. That tongue of his quickly found your nub and circled around it, alternating between that and his lips puckering around it to suck on it. The fingers in your mouth did nothing to muffle the noises he was coaxing from you as your thighs clamped down on either side of his head. Somewhere in the back of your mind you were cognizant of putting too much pressure on him but it was quickly drowned out by your building climax.

Simon felt it building in you as well; the way your thighs got tighter around his head, the throbbing of your nub in his mouth, and the quivering of your slit. In the mess of it all your hands had come down to grip his short hair, tugging on it as if trying to pull him closer.

"Tha's it, luv, cum for me."

Barely above the haze of lust you registered Simon's command as you felt yourself come undone for him. Your own slick mixing with his spit to coat your inner thighs as he lapped greedily at everything you had to give him. Eventually your orgasm began to subside and you took notice of him standing up from where he had knelt. The sound of leather on denim was barely audible above your panting, followed by a zipper being pulled down. Craning your head up off the mattress you finally saw his full length in the dim light of the room as he slowly rutted against your womanhood.

"I think y' should be ready for this, luv. But I wanna hear y' say it. Tell me 'ow badly y' need this inside..."

"I... fuck..."

Word were hard to come by in your lust filled haze, biting your lower lip in concentration you finally were able to articulate the words.

"Take me, Simon! I want every inch of that inside me now!"

"Needy, aren't ya? Don't worry, I got exactly wha' y' need roight... here..."

On that last syllable he slid his full length inside of you in one fluid stroke. You could swear he crashed up against the back of your womb with how big he was and before you could cry out he locked his lips onto yours, stifling any sound you made.

You two lay there connected, Simon not moving until you were used to him, for a few brief moments before he pulled away from the kiss to gaze into your eyes. You gave him a wordless nod to reassure him you were okay before he started his thrusting in earnest. Slow, full strokes to make sure you felt every inch of his desire for you.

"Been 'oping to 'ave y' like this for awhile now, sweet'eart.. sure when y' first started up 'ere I was skeptical..."

Your brain was barely paying attention to his words, still shrouded in a fog of lust. Simon, on the other hand, was talking to take his mind off the pleasure you were giving him so he could last longer than a few pumps.

"But after I saw y' toss Gaz an' Soap around in 'and t' 'and I thought maybe y' were alroight after all..."

Now even Simon was barely registering his own words as his thrusts started to pick up the pace, chasing his own orgasm as he felt your body tense under him while your second climax built up inside you.

His hands went from your hips to your own hands, lacing both your fingers together as he held your hands above your head and leaned down to kiss you again. There was a bit more force, a bit more need behind this one and with a low growl he slammed his hips against yours one more time, burying himself deep as he emptied into you. Your own climax hitting at the same time made it feel like your walls were milking him dry.

Both of you were spent after that; a sweaty mess of half clothed bodies that clung to each other tightly. He didn't want to pull out but he wanted to lay you on the bed proper, opting to slide himself out from between your legs and gingerly place you on the bed before laying down next to you. Once he was settled in beside you, your hands wrapped around him in a loose embrace as you rested your cheek on his chest, feeling the slow rise and fall from his breath.

A heavy arm draped over you, pulling you in tightly as you both lay there in the dark. Simon was the first to break the silence, kissing the top of your head.

"May not 'ave been a proper date, sweet'eart. But I promise we'll 'ave one eventually. Now get some sleep, I'll be 'ere in the mornin'."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #reader insert #hurt/comfort #rebound #cod mw2 #cod mwii #ghost cod #ghost #look i just got broken up with recently and wanted some comfort fic so i made my own