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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Cockwarming Simon as you two make out in his office.

From the request here

“I need it in ya, baby,” Simon gasps in between the breaks in your lips connection. “Just for a bit. Ya know ya fuckin’ want me in ya too.”

The tiny office is silent save for the deep groans and sharp breaths as Simon holds you close, you perched comfortably on his beefy thighs while he sits at his desk so that he can steal kiss after heated kiss, relishing in the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Rough hands run up the length of your back, following your spine over your shirt until they reach the back of your head where he uses them to draw your face in tighter until your mouth stings from the pressure.

Sitting in the middle of his lap you can feel his cock poking against the cheek of your ass, pulsing and throbbing as it strains against the fabric of his pants. It’s no surprise what he needs; it’s the same thing he wants every time he calls you into his office for a “meeting” during your lunch break, which is becoming more and more frequent these days.

You are a very addictive problem, one that he is constantly losing himself in and making every excuse in the book to spend as much time wrapped up in that he can. A pretty thing like you, how is he supposed to keep his hands off? If that means setting up a quick make out session to get through the day, then he’s gonna make it happen one way or another.

“Have training in a bit,” you mutter as you break from his mouth just for a split second. “Don’t want to be late.”

He’s right back on you before the last beat of your reply can hit, not wanting to be parted from you for longer than needed. It takes a minute before he tries to reason with you again. “Not gonna be late,” he reassures. “But how the hell am I supposed to stay outta ya, hmm? Not when ya feel so fuckin’ good. Just want ya to warm me for a bit and then I’ll make sure you’re outta here with plenty ‘a fuckin’ time.”

His hand rubs along one of your thighs as the other is still tangled in the strands of your hair, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the barrage of his lips. Fuck, it’s getting harder to think straight the longer his mouth captures yours in that tangled dance that he seems to be an expert in. You lean into his embraces a bit more and Simon is sure he has you right where he wants you now.

There is not a chance in hell you are going to deny him. “You better make it up to me later,” you say breathlessly and you can feel his lips upturn into a smile against your own.

The grip on your hair tightens as he gives it a sharp tug. “Take off your fuckin’ pants.”

That gravely, heavily accented tone sends a full shiver down your spine. No one can make a demand like that sound so fucking good, especially now that he’s made you delirious off his kisses alone.

The officers building is full of people today so privacy is near non-existent and though you know this is probably a terrible idea, you can’t be stopped. Helping you off his lap Simon sets you on your feet to the side of the desk, giving you the space to do what you need to do. He watches with hungry eyes as you undo the button keeping your bottoms secure; goddamn you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?

Adjusting himself, he sits back more in his chair. “Slower,” he demands firmly.

Instantly your movements become measured as you take your time undressing while you keep those beautiful eyes directly on him. He doesn’t break eye contact at all; instead his hand slips down over his abdomen to the crotch of his own pants where he tugs at the fabric tenting there before massaging the spot as he watches your little striptease. Those unflattering uniforms keep all those voluptuous curves hidden from his view and so any chance he gets to see you out of them is a treat indeed.

You drag the zipper down painfully slow, making sure to give him all the tantalizing he wants. As the front now hangs open, you slide your hands back to your hips where you slip your fingers into the waistband and begin to push them down until the top seam of the panties clinging around your hips are exposed.

Eyes unblinking, breathing stayed, Simon is caught in the moment, his hand pulling up the hem of his shirt just over his navel so that he can fiddle with his belt buckle until he can pry the damned thing loose. He grunts as he has to roll his hips back so that he can slip his hand between the bulk of stocky muscle on his lower abdomen and the seam of his pants to get it off. The metallic clink rings out and he quickly undoes the rest, plunging his hand inside to pull out his cock so that he can palm it and give it a proper stroke as you continue on.

Instantly you freeze as your eye catches that trail of sparse hair traveling down the line of his stomach below his belly button towards his member and your mouth begins to salivate and a hard, throbbing pulse between your thighs makes your legs feel like liquid. God, you are so down bad for your superior that it is bordering on pathetic the way that even that small patch of hair has you chomping at the bit.

Simon clears his throat as he catches your sight lingering and as you meet the glint in his eyes and the smirk on his kiss-raw lips, you refocus on the task at hand. These pants still have to go and time is of the essence. You continue on, pushing the fabric down over the curve of your ass to your thighs and then your ankles in the same slow fashion, only this time more unsteady as your heartbeat pounds. They hit the ground and those damned pants are finally off; there you stand before him in nothing but your panties.

“Off,” he hisses as his head nods down to the last article of clothing keeping you from being filled by him.

There’s heat bubbling in your cheeks now, making them flush, and though you are almost rendered dumb just from the tension alone there’s still a little fire in you yet. “What’s the magic word?” you ask with a good bit of sass.

A chuckle escapes his mouth as his hand strokes harder around his dick; he does love a bit of cocky pushback, but make no mistake that that will be remembered for later. His mouth yearns to devour your lips again and he doesn’t want to wait any more than he already has, so he lets it be…for now. Leaning forward in his seat he reaches out and his large hand wraps around your wrist to pull you back to him.

“Keep ‘em on all ya fuckin’ want sweetheart, don’t need ya to take ‘em off for what I wanna do,” he groans as he grabs onto your hips and forces you to move yourself back on top of him straddling over his lap.

Fair enough.

You can feel his warm fingers twitching with anticipation as they move in between your thighs and up against your clothed sex before his digits hook themselves into the crotch of your panties and wrench them to one side roughly. The seam digs into that soft area at your upper inner thigh as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck while a hand on your hip aligns your body at the perfect spot over top of him.

Holding the base of his cock, Simon pushes down on your hip and you don’t fight it. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl, now let’s get this in,” he praises as the tip pokes through your petals and against your entrance. A harder press on your body and his cock shoves its way inside, stretching you wide as it slips in and you whine inside your closed mouth as you struggle to take him in so quickly.

“F-fuck,” he exclaims, his body shuddering as you come all the way down until you are once again sitting on his lap only this time with all of him thrust deep inside you. “Isn’t this better? Goddammit, this is where ya fuckin’ belong princess.”

His forehead comes to rest on your own, staggered breath being siphoned between the pair of your lips before he leans up into you and crushes your mouths back together in sloppy kisses that leave you with a yearning that situates itself deep in your core. Your mouth is like candy, sweet and addictive, and each brush of your lips against his own only makes him vibrate with a need for more. Long fingers find their way back to tangle in your hair to grip it hard as he smashes his face in until your features are molded together.

Those soft, supple lips are his to ruin and he will, by fuck he will. With each fiery embrace he lays his claim upon your mouth as if he wishes to bind your faces together so he never has to do without their euphoria. Without warning his strong, thick tongue parts your lips with ease and plunges fully inside your mouth to dance and twist with your own, filling the orifice to capacity as he shoves it down the back of your throat.

You can barely intake air with your mouth full of his tongue, but it doesn’t matter. Suffocation feels like a dream when you are stuffed so overwhelmingly from above and below. Your pussy holds him tight, tight enough that the throbbing from the blood rushing to engorge his cock feels like he’s being stroked without any movement. Each throb has a visceral reaction and you can feel the wetness gathering by the second with every beat.

The dizzying intensity of his kisses and the pulsating of his cock are too much and leave you clenching your thighs, squeezing him in the process as you cannot help rocking your hips, but that is dangerous territory. Simon is already teetering close to the razor’s edge.

“Don’tcha fuckin’ move,” he says with a sharp hiss of breath, wrangling your hips down square against his pelvis with a heavy grip so that you cannot shift them at all. “We don’t have time to do this proper, just need to feel ya to get through this fuckin’ day and then I’ll do it right later.”

There is desperation on his lips something vicious and it can be felt in the way his embraces become more aggressive; through the haze fogging your brain you instinctively know he is holding on by a thread. Doing as he says, you do your best to keep yourself still to allow his cock to soak in you just as he wants.

Your arms around his neck tighten as you grip on to sanity and his hands travel back up your body to cradle your face between them. There’s nothing outside of the taste of your lips, the burn from the pressure of your mouths together, the throbbing from inside your tight pussy as it coats his cock in your nectar. It all becomes an insatiable blur as his mind numbs and he forgets everything else outside of the ecstasy of you.

The longer he’s buried in you the more your walls swell to squeeze him tighter and he does not realize what is happening. Simon forgets that he is getting too worked up, succumbing to all that pleasure that he cannot stop his body from its more primal instincts. With each passing minute the tension from the coil knotting in his abdomen is drawing closer together, threatening to snap at any second and send him coming and coming hard.

Eyes closed, mind gone, body so warm it feels like he is on fire, the feeling of your body driving him insane, it is all too much. That coil has tightened all it can and he finally becomes aware of it just as you accidentally rock your hips ever so slightly, but it is enough that there is nothing else he can do other than accept what is about to happen.

“Fuck,” he groans against your parted lips as he realizes that he has miscalculated just how much he can take. “Ugh…fuck, baby.”

It’s too late, this cannot be stopped and at the last second he reacts. With a sharp, loud grunt he picks your hips up and rocks his own back to pull out of you just as he pops off. The sticky, warm emission spurts out of him with force and up onto his exposed belly, catching the bottom half of his t-shirt in its intensity. His lips lock to yours in an effort to keep the noise from those deep, guttural whimpers down as he rolls his hips, milking every last out of the aching tip that he can as you grind against it.

A couple of minutes pass before his pace finally slows and comes to a stop with nothing left to give as that swift flow of exhaustion floods his body. Those bruised lips unlatch from your own as he falls against the back of the chair to sit limp as he works to regulate his breathing. Being so worked up is something he is still getting used to, losing himself like that is not a problem he had before you came along. But no one has ever made him feel as if he’d been struck by a live wire before: all excitement whenever you are around.

Just one of the hazards of being with such a vixen.

There is still a pulsing in you that causes your body to continue to ache, but as your wandering eyes land on the watch around Simon’s wrist you see that there are only a few minutes left before you need to be in training and you still have to make it across base. Carefully, you get up off of him and make your way to your pants, redressing fast as those brown eyes cling to your every move.

“See what ya fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart? I’m a goddamn mess for ya,” he sighs as he watches you fix your soaked panties back into place before pulling your pants back on, sad to see such a gorgeous sight be concealed once more.

“Seems like we have that in common,” you smile as you finish up and lean back into him, using his thighs as support as you give him one last, lingering kiss. You’re already gonna be late, might as well make it worth it.

Simon wants you to stay, to have you for the rest of the afternoon, but he knows that duty calls and if he doesn’t tell you to go then it’s only going to get harder to leave. “Best get outta here ‘fore I change my mind and do somethin’ stupid to get us both in fuckin’ trouble,” he says with a nod of his head. “We’ll finish this up later, I swear.”

You lean in one more time for a short peck before turning tail and quickly making your way out of the office. Simon’s gaze lingers on your form until you exit and shut the door behind you, leaving him alone to deal with the mess he’s made of himself while his raw lips are already craving yours again.

“She is a problem,” he chuckles to himself, “a very big fuckin’ problem.”

Tag list: @llelannie

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steddie-as-they-come · 6 months

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Steve's pinning his polaroids up on his wall when his new roommate walks in.

Steve's immediate thought is oh, I'm gonna hate this guy.

Shaggy hair, leather jacket, rings glinting off his fingers, electric guitar slung over his back. Hot as hell, but compared to Steve's polos and perfectly coiffed hair, they could not be more different.

The guy looks like he had the same thought. His shoulders slump as he takes in Steve's appearance.

A man comes in behind his roommate, toting a suitcase full of clothes. "Oh, are you Eddie's roommate?" he says to Steve, who shakes himself out of his thoughts.

"Yes, I am." he says politely. "I'm Steve Harrington."

The man sets down the suitcase. "Wayne Munson." he offers, shaking Steve's hand. "I'm Eddie's uncle."

He nudges Eddie forward, who lets out an almost inaudible groan. "Eddie." he says snippily, shaking Steve's hand.

This'll be a fun year, Steve thinks.

They don't talk. Steve didn't think he was going to be best friends with whoever he got saddled with, but he thought they could at least be civil to each other. Their room is split down the middle. Eddie's half is absolutely covered in posters and music and cutouts of magazines. Steve's is...almost as blank as his room back home.

He misses the shitheads.

No one can ever tell them that. They'll get even more insufferable.

Once or twice, when Steve comes back from a class, he'll catch Eddie peering at Steve's pictures, but he’ll jump away before Steve can call him out on it. It's awful. Steve misses Robin.

It takes him a horribly long amount of time to stop flinching awake at every little sound. He'd stored his nailbat under his bed, out of sight of Eddie, but every time someone yells in the hallway or shouts in the room next door, Steve startles awake, already grabbing his bat. Luckily, Eddie sleeps like the dead, because Steve's not sure he'd be able to explain the weapon without breaking his NDA.

It's three A.M., early November, when there's a knock on their door. Steve isn't asleep yet, so he stands and answers it.

Eight people pile in, talking in hushed whispers. They slam into him, knocking him over.

In the middle of the hug, Steve counts his kids. It's Dustin, nestled against his side, then Lucas, El, and Will under his arm, Max draped over his back, Erica leaning into his shoulder, and Mike on the very outskirts of the group. He pulls them all in tighter, and they all yelp and squawk at him.

"Let us go, Steve!" Erica says, annoyed.

"Nope." Steve says. "You came to find me at three in the morning, you can tolerate a hug."

"Shoo, move." another voice says, and all the kids part like the sea. Robin pushes her way through the group and hugs him tightly. "I don't know how you do it." she says to Steve. "Driving all these nerds around, it's exhausting."

He buries his face in her hair. "Missed you, Robbie." he mumbles.

She leans her head against his. "Missed you too, dingus."

Steve pulls back. "You got your license!"

"I did!" Robin jingles her keys happily.

Eddie sits up, and everyone in the room freezes. "Wha's happenin'?" he slurs sleepily. Then he registers all the people in the room. "Whoa, what the fuck?"

Steve stands up, brushing himself off. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't know they were coming." He shoots a glare at the group, who looks appropriately cowed. Minus Dustin. Steve can now see whose idea this was.

Eddie swings out of bed. "No, it's- wait, are these the kids from your polaroids?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, Erica, and this is my best friend Robin."

"Awww, you have polaroids of us?" Max teases over his shoulder. "That's sweet."

Steve reaches behind him and tussles her hair, shoving her gently. "Shut up, shithead."

"Your room is cool." Mike says. "Not Steve's side. But this part is cool!"

Steve glares at Mike, but Eddie grins big. "Thanks! I'm Eddie Munson." He shakes Mike's hand.

"Is that a DnD poster?" Will says. "That's amazing!"

"It certainly is!" Eddie says. "I used to DM back in high school. Played a bit too."

The nerdier section of the group reacts appropriately, oohing and ahhing, while Max and Erica just roll their eyes and nudge each other.

Steve hesitates. “I know these guys don’t really do anything on Saturday afternoons, and I think they’ve been wanting to start another campaign. Would you mind if they come up, maybe every weekend, and you can…” he doesn’t know enough about DnD “…run a game for them?”

Eddie looks amused. “You mean DM a campaign?”

“Yeah, that.” It’s an olive branch that Steve’s offering.

Eddie takes it. “Well, how can I turn that down? Sheepies of the Harrington flock, how would you like to join a new campaign?”

“I’ll keep the rest of you occupied,” Steve mutters as the guys (and El) start talking excitedly. “Max, Rob, you guys wanna find the closest arcade and set some new high scores?”

“Only one person will be setting high scores.” Max says, gesturing to herself, but she looks excited at the prospect.

Steve lets Eddie and the kids talk for a couple more minutes, then claps his hands. “Okay, it is three in the morning and I have a nine A.M. class tomorrow SO! I have enough blankets for all of you to sleep on the floor if Eddie doesn’t mind-“ Eddie shrugs. “Or Rob can drive you back home.”

Steve looks around and Robin is already in his bed, cuddled up like the blanket hog she is. “Okay, well, sleepover here it is then.”

He whisks out his ungodly amount of throw blankets (courtesy of Joyce’s knitting spree) and the kids get together in their usual movie-night-at-Steve’s cuddle position.

Will’s got his head on Mike’s shoulder, Lucas next to Mike, Max leaning on Lucas, El’s head in Max’s lap and her legs thrown over Dustin’s lap, and Erica with her back against Dustin’s shoulder. Sometimes Robin and Steve are wedged into the pile somewhere, but just as often they’re tangled up under six different blankets across the room, which is why Steve whispers “Scoot over, dumbass,” as he climbs into bed next to Robin.

Eddie watches them assume their positions with an expression of what could be awe on his face. “When I saw those pictures,” he whispered, “I thought they were like your siblings? Or maybe old pictures of your friends. I didn’t think you were a soccer mom.”

Steve glares at him, but unlike earlier in the year, there’s no heat behind it. “Hope you like coparenting then, because these guys need to be watched 24/7 or they’ll run off and start the apocalypse.”

Eddie laughs like it’s a joke. To him it is. He hops back into bed. “Goodnight, weird little family.”

The kids murmur a collective sleepy goodnight, and Steve shuts his eyes.

It’s the most relaxed he’s felt since he moved in.

part two!

#based on the running joke between me and my roommate that my robotics kids are gonna break into my dorm room #one of them just got his license and im now even more worried #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #college au #pre relationship

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gamermattsgf · 4 months

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Cherry popper // nerd Matt

Warnings: extreme smut / sub Matt x dom fem reader / glasses kink / praise kink / handjob / overstimulation / wave ride / virgin!matt / slight mention of breeding if you squint

Summary: the reader is in desperate need of help with calculus, something which Matt is willing to give her. However, Matt wants to be taught something in return, something that does not require a pen and paper… sex

Author’s notes: another sub Matt, but this time he’s a cutsey little nerd with glasses. Obvi this is 18+ but idrc, if u don’t have a problem with reading it by all means go on ahead and knock urself out. Also I got super carried away with this one it’s so long lmaoo sorry.

“Girl you make me numb, when we kiss until my tongue hurts” - Pink bubblegum, Lavi Kou

‘You want me to do what?’ You question in bewilderment, looking at the way Matt sits on the floor of your room cross-legged with his hands twisted in his lap shyly.

‘Please don’t make me say it again…’ he whines with a rosy blush on his cheeks, his glasses rested on his nose and framing his averted eyes as he manages to look anywhere but right at you. You sigh with your eyebrows furrowed, before leaning up onto your knees from your sitting position opposite him.

‘So let me get this straight, to pay for my tuition, instead of money you want me… to teach you, how to fuck someone properly?’.

Matt suddenly slaps his hands over his face, hiding how red he gets with embarrassment. ‘Stop. It sounds so stupid when you say it like that…’ he groans, his glasses smooshed right into his eyes. Your mouth can’t help but curl in amusement at this odd request, not that you mind though…

‘Well what better way is there to say it?’ You laugh through your teeth before deciding to carefully knee your way over to him. As you go, you mind not to step on all of the outspread papers with physics problems scrawled over them in Matt’s messy handwriting.

When he hears papers rustling from underneath you, he splits his middle and pointer finger apart so that he can secretly peek at your advancing figure from through his hands. Before he can say anything else, you reach him and carefully wrap your hands around his wrists so that you can pull the makeshift cover he made away from his face. ‘I don’t know��’ he sighs in frustration ‘I’m just umm… I’m just not very good at it…’.

It looks like it physically hurts him to admit this, as though he’s stepping on broken glass after every word. His wince after his frustrated confession is adorable.

‘I don’t mind y’know’ you shrug nonchalantly, not seeing the big problem with it and thinking that his nervous request is really quite cute instead. Matt perks up immediately, his eyes snapping straight to yours.

‘Really? You’d do that for me? I didn’t think you’d actually say yes… I thought it was so pathetic, I immediately regretted opening my mouth after I’d said it and I-’ he rambles to you in disbelief, using the sound of his own voice to calm his nerves after your unexpected agreement.

‘Matt, get on the bed’ you interrupt him with an amused quip, ceasing his endless stream of ranting conversation. He shuts up immediately, his eyes as wide as saucers at your commanding tone. Swallowing, his Adam’s apple feathers downwards before he’s standing up shakily.

‘Oh- yeah right, sorry…’ he nervously laughs. ‘Didn’t think we were gonna start right away…’ he speaks whilst moving his socked feet so that he can timidly sit down onto the edge of the bed, as if afraid that the mattress would swallow him whole if he moved up any further.

‘Sure, why not. You’re cute, plus, how else am I supposed to pay for my session today if we don’t start hm?‘

He watches you as you also gravitate to your feet, before loftily stepping over your books and folders so that you can make your way over to him. You observe the way his hands splay out to the sides of him as his knuckles twist your sheets within his palms. His veins are practically popping out from his skin with how hot his body is already. He’s scared. You can tell.

‘I- I suppose that’s true…’ he stutters timidly, trying to distract himself again with meaningless chatter, before you move right into his space.

You smirk. This is going to be fun. Your core flutters gently after voicing ‘spread your legs puppy’ because he does exactly what he’s told, albeit with slight apprehension. To ease his nerves, you decide to offer him a springboard to get him warmed up.

‘Why don’t we start with a little kissing, think you can do that for me? You suggest, placing your cupped hands onto the tough muscles between his collarbones and neck over his pressed shirt, stroking the skin with your thumbs comfortingly. Matt nods his head, as if in a daze. ‘Alright. So, the key to a good kiss is to start slow’ you begin, pushing his chin and up and ducking your head down.

You press your lips into his, getting a feel for their shape and wetness before Matt can’t help but let out a subdued whimper at the contact. You smile into it. Pulling back, Matt leans his head upwards as if needy to reconnect them, but you still have to give him his lesson. ‘Nothing open mouthed yet, you need to tease them first before you give them what they want, ‘kay?’ You lecture him, and he watches you attentively from his position on the bed beneath you. ‘Yeah okay… makes sense’ he shrugs cluelessly.

‘After that, only briefly use your tongue, maybe lick their bottom lip a little- like this’ you connect you lips once again before slicking out your tongue to pass it over the fullness of his lip.

Matt’s eyes are closed and his head is tilted to the side in enjoyment. You retract to feather your nose against his. ‘Okay now you try…’ you command him, with words of encouragement. Matt’s eyes peek open to flick down to your lips briefly, before closing them and getting lost in the moment whilst he leans down to capture your set in his.

Perhaps too lost.

You yelp quietly when Matt slots your bottom lip in between his teeth and bites harshly, tugging it down, only to let it recoil back up into place between his heavy kiss. He’s a little sloppy with it and you jump back, clearly caught off guard. His eyes snap open and look and your puzzled expression.

‘Sorry! M’so sorry, was that not good?’ He worriedly bumbles, thinking that he’s messed up grandly. But you only shake your head, pressing one of your hands up into your lips to graze over them. ‘No… that was actually really good, keep doing that…’ you utter in disbelief. Matt sighs gratefully, before you lurch forward to join your selves together a little harsher this time. Your teeth clash melodically, and saliva is exchanged at a quickened pace.

It only gets more frantic after you mumble ‘gimme your tongue baby’. Matt obeys obediently and dips his tongue to lick into your mouth. Is it messy? Yes. Does it make you wetter than anything though? Also yes. ‘Good boy’ you eek out in between pants and heavy tongue brushes.

As you kiss, you lift one of your knees up into your mattress, and prominently press it towards Matt’s crotch. He takes this as a sign for him to shuffle further up onto the bed, which he does so, still with your mouths connected and your lips feathering wetly.

After a while of just letting your mouths get familiar with one another, you pull away to face Matt.

‘Let’s do something easy for your first lesson shall we? Have you ever touched yourself before?’ You gently ask, kneeling in between a poor Matt’s spread legs. His chest is heaving shyly and his face is practically as red as a tomato. ‘Umm… well- yeah, a couple of times…’ he looks down to the floral bed covers of your bed whilst the frame of his glasses slides delicately down his nose. You reach out your fingertips to quickly brush his shaggy brown hair strands from out of his eyes before pouting.

‘Aw puppy… you don’t have to be shy, I’m not gonna judge’. After clearing his hair away, one of your fingertips drops to curl and stroke against his right cheek which burns hot with fiery humiliation. He gazes up at you with the eyes of a baby deer’s before gulping as his Adam’s apple bobs again.

‘Can you… can you show me how to do it properly?’ He breathlessly asks, shyly averting his gaze whilst you tilt your head with a cheeky smile pointed right at him. ‘Of course baby boy, that’s what mommy’s here for isn’t it?’.

Matt likes the mommy comment a lot more than he’s willing to admit. Scratch that, he loves it. He feels so safe, so babied within your hold, and he wants to stay here forever. Swallowing nervously, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

Smacking your lips at the sight of Matt obviously fidgeting in anticipation, you decide to reach your own hands to grab his wrists. ‘C’mere, gimme those pretty hands’. He looks at you with heaving shoulders, now even the back of his neck as red as anything with embarrassment.

You could tell that he’s humiliated because of how much he’s enjoyed this. He also definitely doesn’t want it to stop. So you don’t let it.

Moving from in between his spread legs, you straddle his lap as you place your thighs onto either side of his hips, squeezing them softly, which makes him choke out a tiny gasp. Equally, you’re leant forward enough to fully be able to pin his wrists to the bed so that now he’s completely defenceless.

‘Oh, before we start, tits are really important too. If you want to get a girl wet, you need to play with them’ you coach him once again. Matt pays the upmost attention to what you have to say, his head nodding hurriedly once again.

Deciding to mess with the poor nerdy boy further, you mischievously smirk before mumbling ‘I suppose we could merge two lessons into one… I’m not wearing a bra, so does my baby boy want to see mommy’s tits…?’. Matt gulps and fumbles another ‘oh god’ in utter disbelief whilst you watch the way his pupils flick to your heavy chest and dilate. ‘I’ll take that as a yes then’ you conclude based off of the way he’s practically drooling for them. Poor boy has probably never seen a naked pair in real life before.

Using one of your hands, you reach it to the bottom of your shirt and pull it up over your tits, that quickly spill out and reveal themselves to be resting gently on your chest. ‘F-fuck’ you hear Matt say, and a part of you throbs after physically feeling his cock swell upwards from underneath you. ‘Yeah? You like them?’ You tease, squeezing them together with your arms and then letting them jiggle back into their resting positions. Matt’s cock rises more and presses up into your heat whilst he nods hypnotically, his mouth hung open with his fingers twitching uncontrollably.

‘Wanna taste them honey?’ You coo motherly, before leaning forward and thrusting them into his face, he looks at them in disbelief and blinks with a small ‘can I?’, before you encourage him with a ‘go on baby boy… they’re all yours, this is important’, which finally gets him to open his mouth and give one of them a timid little kitten lick first to test the waters, before he slots the hard bud into his mouth fully and prods his tongue over it.

‘Try sucking on them… that’ll drive a girl crazy…’ you mumble breathlessly, already feeling your slick wetness trickle from your hole as Matt quietly begins to suck harshly on your nipple.

This ripples pleasure all down your spine, and you can’t help but curse into the air, your hands still in a firm clamp over his wrists. However, as he constantly sucks, you begin to rock your lower half backwards and forwards, which only thickens him more. You can feel him throb achingly from below your clothed cunt.

He uncontrollably now moans loudly into your tit, still sucking on it defencelessly because of the way his wrists are continuously compromised by the control of your hands. Licking your tits is the only thing giving him friction whilst your lower halves sensually rub together.

‘I bet you’re so big Matt’ you suddenly decide to seductively mumble, wanting to see just how far you can get this perfectly sweet boy worked up. The same sweet boy who comes to class every morning with a smile on his face, ridiculously smart clothes on and an impossibly strict attitude to learning and note taking.

You wonder what that Matt would say about this one, that sits here in your bed, his notes for studying scattered all messily across the floor, forgotten about, as he instead enjoys your tits and freely moans into your skin at your dirty praise.

‘I bet that deep down you’re an absolutely filthy fucking slut. I just know you’re nice and thick. I can feel you so much already… and you’ve been keeping it all to yourself. How selfish of you’ you tut. Matt hisses quietly, his eyes screwed up in a puppyish way as you compliment him. His stretch is definitely going to burn so fucking good when you finally think he’s prepared enough to fuck you.

‘Can I be the first one to see, pretty please?’ You pout, and Matt has to pull away from your hard tit just to gaze up at you moonily with his mouth hung open, tit drunk already and his shoulders heaving. With his permission of a shaky nod and the lick of his lips, his watery blue eyes flick downwards and innocently look at the way you now shuffle back to your starting position between his spread legs. Both of you look down at the tent formation of his pants in between his thighs, before one of your hands just can’t help itself. It glides up to cup him slowly.

‘See that? That was dirty talk… also very important for someone’s pleasure, we can practice more of that next time though…’

‘Yes please!’ Matt breathes, seemingly eager and liking the idea of hearing more of what you have to say to him in that kind of tone.

The light touch of pressure sets Matt off immediately and he has to fully expand his chest before expelling out a choked up whine of pleasure. He uncontrollably throws his head back and bucks his hips greedily up into the rub of your flattened palm.

‘Ugh… ugh… f-fuck’ he jerkily moans a continuous whimper, before unexpectedly cursing with a shaky pant at the pressure of your hand. ‘Jesus Matt you’ve got a dirty little mouth don’t you?’ You respond. It’s cute how he doesn’t know how to react, and so all of his pressure transforms into helpless sounds. You smirk even wider, loving what it does to your confidence.

‘A very important step is to always ask permission, just so the girl doesn’t feel pressured okay?’. Feeding your hands into the waistband of both his pants and underwear, you coax him to lift his hips upwards and he’s such a good boy because he does exactly what he’s told with no follow-up questions asked.

‘O-okay… please… please can you touch me now- I’m really sore’ Matt acknowledges before panting impatiently and helping you shimmy his pants off.

After you struggle to pull them down you see why when his cock bobs hungrily into the air, his tip already wet and sticky and pink like his lips that are currently bitten between his teeth self consciously. He look in between his cock and you as you observe him, his hips squirming shyly underneath the scrutiny of your stare. You practically drool as you gawk at him, wanting your mouth on his cock but also wanting to sit on it at the same time.

His thickness is perfect and the inconspicuous vein running up the side of him makes you clench. His happy trail also oddly attractive, but he simply sits there sheepishly and watches you take him in.

‘You’re… you’re not disappointed… are you…?’ He pitifully mumbles, looking down at one of his hands that distractedly picks against the lint on your bed covers. You find it within yourself to gasp at his utterly ludicrous statement.

Careening your face into his, you get up onto all fours, and he nervously jumps back a little, before almost choking on his breath after you spit into your hand and waste no time in wrapping it around him.

‘Matt you’ve got such a pretty cock…’, you praise and Matt then opens his eyes to gaze up at you with his glassy pupils, his mouth also open and expelling the cutest little pants every time your hand strokes downwards. Your spit is sticky, and Matt arches his back at the slimy consistency of your hand jerking him slowly.

‘Oh…’ he stutters with breathless embarrassment, his face going even more red at yet again another compliment before his back arches and his toes curl at the feeling of you thumb coming up to touch his sensitive tip.

‘How long does it normally take you to cum puppy?’ You muse in fascination, watching the way Matt squirms from underneath you. ‘Uh- I- umm… maybe -fuck- a couple of minutes?’ He mumbles, his voice sounding a little delirious as he struggles to concentrate on the sound of your voice. He’s too focused on the slow circular rub of your thumb against his tip. You raise your eyebrows. ‘Jesus Christ we’re gonna have to build that up’ you state, knowing that he’s definitely not going to last long.

And you’re right, it doesn’t take him long at all. Because only a couple of minutes after working on him, he gives you no other warning besides a loud moan and a hitched ‘I- I think I’m gonna-’ before a thick layer of cum spurts from out of his tip and splatters onto his stomach accidentally. This catches you off guard.

‘Shit’ You state in awe as you continue to pump him, curiously watching the way he whines as if he’s about to cry with his eyes scrunched shut over his squinted glasses.

Matt gets breathless very quickly, his chest heaving as his fists claw at your bedcovers and his legs spread unconsciously.

‘Ow- ow, ouch- fuck!’ He suddenly starts to cry instead of his euphoric whimpers. You quickly realise he’s falling overstimulated due to his orgasm and you let go of him. But when you do, you realise something…

‘Fuck baby you’re still kinda hard’.

Matt’s flushed face tilts downwards to look at his lower half, his stomach an absolute mess coated in him cum, but his cock still painfully throbbing.

Wasting no time at all, your hand leans forward again. Quickly you’re whipping your fingers over Matt’s stomach to scoop up some of his lukewarm cum. You wrap his cock back up into your fist and Matt tenses, hissing in aggravated pain.

‘What are you doing?!’ He pants out, before scrunching his face up uncomfortably.

‘Teaching you how to wave ride off of your first orgasm puppy, it looks like you need one’ you say, effortlessly slipping back into your teaching mode before you decide to use your other hand to grab his glasses from off of his face.

Matt watches with carnal desire at the sight of you slipping them onto your own face, the frame just low enough on your nose so that you can see over his prescription lenses. Something about you wearing his glasses just makes him feel feral with lust for you. It’s not like he hasn’t fantasised about something like this before, he’s just always felt really shy around girls and has never been able to execute it until now. He hasn’t exactly been oozing sex appeal as of late…

‘There, that’s better isn’t it?’ You sigh and admire the way he wriggles around beneath you, clearly in overstimulation.

Matt moans as if he’s in heat whilst deciding to bend his arm and hide his face into the crook of his elbow, his other shaky hand twisting the bedsheets and turning white at the pressure he keeps on them as you continue to touch him into oblivion. He utters high pitched pants and whimpers at regular intervals, especially after everytime your hand squeezes tightly around him, his throbbing cock slickly gliding over your hand with every bounce.

‘Ugh fuck you’re gonna make me feel so full later Matt’ you utter, his cock feeling so lengthy and thick around your small hand.

He only shakes his head in return, his cock throbbing in approval at the phrase as he releases hot breaths into the already thick atmosphere. Below you, simple instincts of his take over and he’s beautifully responsive to your touch by greedily thrusting upwards into your hand.

Pouting and humming sadly, one of your hands comes up to pet his right cheek below the cover of his arm. ‘Why are you hiding from me baby boy?’, to which Matt’s incoherent mumbles are just as naive and innocent as the rest of his actions thus far. As if his cheeks aren’t red with humility at himself enough, they invade more of his face now and even turn the tops of his ears a dusty cherry shade.

‘Cause- it’s so- so embarrassing…’ he stutters a tiny choked-up whine at not wanting you to look at him whilst he becomes extremely overstimulated.

He feels humiliated because the sounds and faces he makes after his first orgasm are even worse than the ones he made the first time, his cock already swollen and sensitive. Perhaps he also feels disgusted by himself and would prefer not to register the way his body is reacting? But to be completely honest, if you didn’t know any better Matt sounded like he wanted to be fucking breeded on the spot because he was moaning for you to take him that loudly.

‘Aw puppy… nothing to be embarrassed about… I’d be acting just the same if it were you who were touching me, I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum’

Timidly and with slight apprehension, he carefully lifts his arm from off of his face and reconnects eyes with yours. ‘Can you…’ he peeps, but quietens again, nervous to say it in front of you. But you nod your head encouragingly. ‘Go on baby’. He continues…

‘Can you call me a good boy again?… I- I really like it…’ he mumbles guiltily, his eyes refusing to meet your intense gaze as they wander about the floor instead. You throb at his submissive response.

‘That gonna help you cum baby?’ You question teasingly, and Matt nods quickly, a shaky hum in approval choking its way up his throat.

‘Fuck you’ve been so great for your first lesson… such a good boy, taking my hand so well, and so brave for taking two orgasms at once aren’t you?’ You praise him, and Matt arches his back once more, his blue eyes tearing up at just how sensitive he is now. He twitches furiously in your hand as his head throws itself back.

‘Need to cum now puppy?’ You pout playfully and quicken your hand. His breaths pant at the new pace. ‘Y-yes’ he wheezes, so you easily let him.

‘Go on sweet boy, you’re allowed’.

At this, he cries out, another even stronger level two orgasm hitting him and rattling through his gut. He’s loud, but you love it, and stroke his cock until all of his cum is spent.

Coming down from his high, he looks exhausted after the earth shattering orgasm you have just given him. All you do is smile and giggle as his rising and falling stomach calms itself little by little. Getting up from the bed, you hover over him before leaning in to kiss his cheek softly. He looks at you with his mouth hung open and his blue eyes babied.

‘Now it’s time to teach you about aftercare’ you muse sweetly, before shuffling off to find a cloth to clean Matt up, who is left on your bed with a dreamy smile on his lips…

Author’s notes p.2: thank you to my bbg @strniohoeee for helping my indecisive ass pick this idea to write next out of all of my drafts. Love love love. If you see any typos… no u don’t. The question is… do I do a Chris one now? Or another Matt one. Pls request ;)

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sub matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #mommy k!nk #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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frmisnow · 2 months

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✧˖ ?!— THE ASSHOLE THAT MIGHT MAKE YOU FORGIVE & FORGET. - (NSFW.)

— ‧₊˚ — 🍸: "wanna make you hate being touched by anybody else but me, i'll be so selfish with you ??"

summary. despite your best efforts at avoiding your much-hated hookup boxer, he somehow finds a way to your apartment claiming he's here for your own good benefit, being a total ass- does he even have the ability to change? well, he's determinded to make you forgive & forget... in his own unique ways!

notes. haven't written full blown smut in quite a while aaahhhh also my longest fic up to date??? - this is part two of TWO WHORES IN A ROOM, THEY MIGHT KISS but can be read on it's own.

warnings/includes. (MDNI!!) non idol! jungkook x f! reader, they still kinda hate eachother sry (tiny bit of character development in the middle tho), elements of angst, making out, he's a bit of a dick :/, reader is kind of a therapist (pls don't go around in real life trying to fix ppl!!), tit/nipple play, riding, kook sub tendency towards the end, unprotected sex (she's on the pill tho), not proofread :/

you starred blankly at the text bubble he sent you a minute ago, hell- it was 2 am- you blinked repeatedly, reading it once more:

unknown number (jeon ) : i'm outside your apartment

you've done your absolute best avoiding him at all costs, you couldn't no- you shouldn't at all, never ever form a connection with him and though you'd usually be okay with having a little fling, you didn't want to be associated with him nor did you want to see his face. it was a hate fuck, nothing more, nothing less - but he always knew just how to ruin your plans.

you looked outside the window, actually sighting a figure, a motorcycle close to them as the person lifted it's head shortly from their phone, you quickly typed in a response.

y/n ( reader ) : how do you know my number, how do you know my adress and what makes you think i'll open the door unknown number (jeon ) : i'm cold

the simplicity of the incoming answer, made you roll your eyes, opening the window instantly after reading yelling out to the person: "i'll call the police for stalking"

he instantly yells back, "you don't actually have any intentions of calling the police. you want to see me" with every word stepping a bit closer to your apartment, now practically being next to your door.

"ha," you let out till full blown starting to laugh, "i wanna see you?" the smile from the laugh still plastered of your face, "you really think so?"

"oh i'm sure of it, what else is there to do on a saturday night? i just know you've been thinking bout my big dick all day, i know it makes you sick- but y'know what? i'm here to fix it for you" he looks up to you while delivering his dialogue in a sarcastic tone like he's the savior of the world, his smirk coming back once more.

you skipped down the stairs, opening the door just a few centimeters, enough to see your face, not enough to completly look into your apartment, answering him back now face to face, giving him a rather unimpressed look: "right, you showed up but somehow u're still blabbering 'bout me wanting you here, but whatever go on- tell me i'm the needy cockslut who wants you right now"

his hands reach out to presumably touch your tits as you make the split of the open door a little smaller so his hands won't fit through while he makes a tiny sound of disapproval in the mean time almost like a 'tsk tsk' until he starts talking again:

"you're standing here in your pjs at 2am opening up your door for no other then me and that says just enough"

you stand there silent for just a few seconds till bouncing back on his answer, "don't get it twisted, i wanted to see what you have to say for yourself-"

his smug little smirk on his face grows bigger as you speak, his words dripping with sarcasm as if you're playing right into his hands "oh so you are interested in what i have to say?"

"very much so but so far you've been talking a lot of shit which doesn't necessarly surprise me either"

jungkooks grin still remains maybe even gets bigger, his voice dripping of sarcasm, "oh c'mon you love anything that has a dick for you to suck on, you're not big on words"

you open the door a bit more further, sighing like you're tired: "well quite frankly i don't feel like having your dick in my mouth"

he runs his hands through his hair, few seconds of silence passing when he finally responds now a little more serious: "are you really gonna act like you didn't enjoy the last time we're together?"

you gulp, for the first time avoiding eye contact: "well not everything revolves around sex"

"ah well isn't that cute, trying to play innocent?" his smile suddenly disappears, his brow furrowing as he gives you a serious look, "look at me. right on the eyes"

you look him in the eyes again, voice getting just a bit louder: "you don't get it, you see any pussy and jump straight onto it then leave which would be fine- but i don't want us to be fuck buddies, i don't want us being awkward at work, i don't want to form an attraction beyond sex to you in any way and i won't even risk it- and you? you don't even think about anything, you just think with your dick"

his eyebrow raises as he lets out a chuckle and rolls his eyes, "yeah, yeah i guess i am quite a shitty guy for not wanting anything more than just to dick you down for all eternity"

you rest your head on the wall next to the door in frustration, making a sound close to a sigh again: "you'll leave me in a week, i'll get attached, you'll make fun of me- i don't want that" surprisingly honest and serious.

he stares at you for few seconds longer, you're not making eye contact anymore, still pressed on the wall your head facing downwards. he sighs and his eyes close as he takes a deep breath as if preparing himself for what he's about to say: "you really think that little of me huh?"

you respond calmly though still avoiding his eyes, admitting in all honesty: "you've given me no reason to think more of you"

and for the first time since you've ever seen him, you see jungkook generally hurt, his eyes not settling as he begins to slowly nod like he understood, taking a step back from the door, "i'll leave you alone"

you watch him take a few steps- but you just can't do this. he was right, for the first time in everything he has said so far- he was right: you wanted him. you didn't know if you wanted him beyond sex but you weren't gonna figure this out right now either so you made the spontanous gut decision, you swiftly walked behind him- grabbing his arm, stopping him.

"you can call me a dumb whore- but i've changed my decision, i don't want you to leave"

you can almost see his brain working your words out one by one till he returns to good old self, voice thick of sarcasm, a sly grin making it's way onto his face once more "oh and why's that?"

"can you shut up?"

it's a messy kiss. desperate, longing, needing - telling. his hands not settling, moving all across your body, squeezing and kneading wherever they can in a matter of time you both stumble back into your apartment, lips not breaking apart not even once even as he closes the front door with his foot, deepening the kiss mean while.

you get pushed back onto the couch, your lips still locked together as his hands move under your clothes, taking off each item of your clothing at lightning speed, like he's trying to tear them all apart.

you break away in the mean time to breathe as you basically pant, taking the short time to look down onto yourself, practically naked then look at him who still had way to many clothes on for your liking, "not fair" your words barerly good said as he basically swallowed them by kissing you once more.

he shifts his position again, wrapping his arms around your bare waist, pulling you onto his lap, groaning into the kiss, trying his best to combine keeping you in place with one hand and cupping your face rather violently with the other.

"please," you pull his pants just a bit to get your point across, "not fair" repeating what you already said like a broken toy in addition you pouted which y'know gets u sympathy points usually, you wanted to feel him- it was only fair.

"oh look who's upset?" a grin splarred over his face, tone mocking maybe even belittling, "you'll have to earn it" running his fingers through one of your hair strands till his gaze returns to your eyes.

"i thought we were over this," you whined till throwing your head back in frustration, "please, i was so nice"

"nice? you called me a shitty guy, thought little of me and basically called me a womanizer among other things." he puts both of his hands on your knees and spreads your legs apart more so you sit wider on him, "and you really think that 'pretty pretty please' is gonna be enough?"

no matter how good he was of a fucker, you weren't just gonna throw away your morals for him completly so you bluntly responded: "the fact that i'm even on your lap right now after some of the shit you said is pretty damn nice of me"

"fair point" he admits and his hands wander up your body once more, tracing each and every curve of your body, holding you down tightly to stop you from moving "you're not a nice girl. you know what you are?"

you responded instantly before he could say anything, putting a finger on his mouth to pervent more bullshit coming from that pretty mouth of his: "don't call me a whore, i won't tolerate slut shaming anymore when you're just as much of one as me, if not more"

he squeezed your thighs during your little speach, acting like a brat who doesn't give two shits about whatever you're saying, "you know i love it when you try to play this 'respect me' act, acting like you really are not some little whore that just wants to get pounded into a matress till she can't take it anymore"

you rolled your eyes immediately, taking in a deep breath: "everytime i have the feeling like i'm getting somewhere with you, i'm talking you developing your brain from teenage boy age 13 to 14, you piss me of even more- god i fucking hate you"

he leans forward, his body even closer to yours, a cruel smile crossing his face, "oh i love the way you get angry" his hot breath hitting your face and his eyes locked into yours, "it makes you look so helpless"

you get closer to his face, now inches apart to make sure the next few sentences really get to him: "i just want you to know that whatever you'll think after this whole thing, i want you to know that you didn't magically pull me in, i'm not helpless neither are you the only person with good dick in this shitplace, you're an avaible option that can be replaced at any given moment, you are a whore that goes around and gets used, no matter how much you hate that fact or not, it's the damn truth, so start being a fucking man and accept it, suck it up" you say something he'd say to you, a taste of his own medicine if you will.

you see it on his face that you've managed to finally get to him, like he's actually taken aback by something for once. your words seemed to cut him deeply and he just stares at you, his breath shaky and his eyes big, wide doed like you've never seen before.

"okay," you take his hands away from your thighs locking them with yours, face still close to his, holding eye contact, "it's okay, it's okay to have sex, it's okay to want to live a free live but you have to communicate that and stop being a prick, stop using girls, stop blowing your ego up and then maybe we could have something" you whisper it as calmly as she can, squeezing his hands every once in a while like you actually want to help him.

he looked onto the both hands locked together till squeezing your hand back, his voice trembling as he tries to remain calm when speaking, "why are you still being so nice to me?"

"you know you do this thing where i look at you and you say something so good, so rational and it happens every once in a while where i think to myself- this is why i can't leave our whole thing alone cause somewhere just somewhere there still is that one valueable dude, it's just-" you sigh, till burrying your head on his shoulder in frustration, "i'm so stupid, i feel like i'll always come back to you, i don't know if that's good"

he almost automatically wraps his arms around your figure and now is the time where you actually do feel helpless in his arms, god- you were so stupid.

he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in, he didn't want to feel this vulnerable around you- it almost hurt to let his emotions show "oh c'mon- don't say that, please" his voice is shaky and his words carry a clear feeling of hurt.

"i always used to say that i don't believe that people can change, it's funny how you try to make excuses and loopholes for your morals when you actually experience something on your own," you straighten up your posture, removing your head from his shoulder, avoiding his eyes while trying to gather your thoughts.

his voice still carries the same shaky emotion as he speaks "why are you avoiding eye contact?" he burries his head against your chest, rubbing against it like trying to make you look at him, softly beginning to lick the skin.

the more he nibbles and licks on your skin, the more little mumbles against the skin are hearable, "i'll make you forgive me" or "i'll make you forget" - it's like a trance.

his tongue getting to your tits, "look at me, please" he pleads like not having your attention on him even for just a few seconds is a crime sentence - at the same time wrapping his lips around one of your hardened nipples, sucking with just as much passion.

he leaves thick traces of saliva on both ones, an occasional muffeled moan slipping out, "could do this forever, i could die happy with one of- mmh" giving both of them his full diverted attention like he had to make sure the other one doesn't feel left out.

when his head comes up from your chest, his eyes are half-lidded, hair is all over the place, a little bit of saliva in the corner of his mouth yet he instantly cups your face kissing you again and again.

everytime he breaks away just shortly to breathe he whispers something into the air then immediately kisses you, swallowing the words like they were dangerous to fly around unanswered.

"wanna do this forever, have you on my tongue over and over again till my tongue goes numb, till i can't taste or feel anymore"

"wanna have you in every position you can think of, wanna fuck you so much your body only remembers me, my shape, my dick- everything, only me"

"wanna make you hate being touched by anybody else but me, i'll be so selfish with you"

dangerous words.

dangerous words that feel a bit to real.

it's so evident he has long lost any control over himself, those eyes still so doed like he's begging you to give in, fully drop your boundaries, to give into his fantasies. eyes locking with yours to speak up just once more like he's admitting something, voice more quiet:

"fuck it, i'm already way to selfish with you"

your hands find the zipper of his pants right before opening, pausing to say something yourself, "i'm selfish too, i choose what i want in the moment instead of what would be better for me in the longterm" you pressed your lips onto his almost to shut down your own thoughts, the important ones, the conscious ones that were barerly left till breaking off again, "i don't care, not right now"

you can already feel his hard cock rub against your panties through the jeans material, "i'm so hard it hurts" he looked at you so pleadingly like you were the doctor with the medicine to safe his life, like this was a do or die situation, a tiny cheeky pout on his face, "can you fix me?"

you didn't know if he was talking about himself as a whole or his cock but regardless you took his hands in order for him to stand up so it would be easier to remove his pants and boxers doing it all in one swift motion.

making him sit down onto the coach once again, he whined at the feeling of cold air on his bare skin and you not immediately sitting down onto him, you strip down your pretty ruined panties, his eye not knowing where to look as he played with his lip ring, tilting his head like he's tryna get a better view.

his hands reach out practically on their own, yearning to get his hands onto anything yours, "sit down, ride me" jungkooks tone shaky yet he tried his best to hide that (not rly working) as he added a tiny quiet "please" at the end of it, barerly audible to the average ear.

you couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that he was behaving like a child (nothing unusual) but the laugh got cut of by a moan as your pussy practically swallowed his length, his hands instantly quite harshly going to your hips, leading you- maybe even guiding.

"fuck yea-" his voice so awfully strained as his both of your hips moved in sync, his fingernails digging into your soft skin, making you groan.

"missed this pussy so much," he moaned out, throwing his head back onto the coach headboard till he weakly added: "so obssesed with you, i've been wanting this tight- mmh, fuck- ever since-"

he couldn't finish his sentence neither did he look like he could form any coherient thoughts, face scrunched up in pleasure, a bit of sweat on his forehead- and you probably didn't look any better yourself.

your walls clenched around him out of sheer response, you were so wrong- this was such bad decision, it would be so hard to let him go after this, it would-

"gonna cum, fuck- i can't"

his pressed out words cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife, the skin slapping noises suddenly feeling louder then they had been before, your own pussy clenching around him once again.

"can't hold it back, i don-"

he was going to leave marks on your hips for sure, you bet he didn't even realize how hard he had been squeezing the poor skin, occasionally moving to your ass.

you moaned yourself, feeling your own orgasm approaching, jungkooks eyes closed, lips parting slightly like he's on the top stage of ecstasy somewhere over the rainbow as you could feel your own walls getting coated with cum.

your body instantly went weak after, lightly collpasing onto his chest as though he seemed unusually tired he wrapped his arms around your back, stroking the skin and bone structure slowly.

it felt so comforting even your eyes closed, you felt so tired- what time was it again?

"fuck- i forgot the condom" his fingers paused, the shook in his voice audible.

"i'm on the pill, we're good" you closed your eyes again, now the clear goal was to fall asleep.

yet y'know how it was with your plans and jungkook- he cut through them as he lied still for a few minutes till whispering, "i don't hate you by the way" his fingers now again continuing the gentle act on your back even slower then before like a quit lullaby, "not even one bit"

"i know"

#kpop smut #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts imagine #bts #bts ffs #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #jeon jungkook

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too-deviant · 2 months

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jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4.1k

content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour

notes: speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge

the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00

PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild

All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well.

Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours.

Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming.

The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it.

After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss.

Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster.

You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty.

Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”

You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse.

The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp.

Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got.

Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery.

It was cute.

Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley.

Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over.

The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan.

He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.

His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name.

He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow.

You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.”

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”

Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.”

Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”

“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.”

He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion.

“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.”

“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.”

You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”

“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly.

“And that?”

“The Amphitheatre.”

You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did.

You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”

That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”

Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face!

You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered.

During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp.

(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)

Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill.

Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day.

But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go.

When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked.

“Hey, now we can match. How cute.”

He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”

“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response.

But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes.

Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet.

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable.

But you really needed to pee.

After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door.

“That’s not your bathroom.”

You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke.

Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”

“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”

“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”

“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”

“Yes.”

“But…it’s cold out there.”

“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”

You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!”

He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up.

“Be quick.”

Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed.

You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan.

“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”

“And then what happened?”

“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”

You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence.

When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m showing you around today.”

“You showed me around yesterday.”

His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”

“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”

“Archery.”

Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour.

“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.”

Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.”

You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t.

He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”

You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater.

You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”

“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”

You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “

Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”

He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”

You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be.

“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).

You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off.

It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?”

You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion.

“So, where are you from?”

He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe.

You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!

Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything.

“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.”

He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse.

“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”

A chuckle, “What?”

But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?”

You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.”

“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on.

“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”

Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”

Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”

You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation.

You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”

You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow.

“What’d you do to him?”

You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”

He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”

You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.

#@lia’s works #joined a new england subreddit for this fic #so pls give it some love #taking requests #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo

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angelltheninth · 9 months

Note

Hey! Love youre work, wondering if you could a scenario with Ghost where reader and him a stuck somewhere tight and it gets spicy 👀👀

Taking advantage of small, tight spaces, in both ways.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, grinding, quickie, coming in pants, stuck together, kissing, size difference, Reader being pinned

A/N: Small space, big guy, great combination.

Nothing ever went wrong on your missions with Simon, and you wouldn't call your current predicament bad, just very awkward

Being on top of him, in a small, almost box-like hiding space that you barely found in the abandoned hideout wasn't the most ideal, but it was the only place you could hide in

"Little tight in here isn't it? Good thing you didn't get in first, I'd hate to crush you." He can barely move too, he can raise his head and bend his knees a little but neither of you can properly stretch your legs

Simon doesn't have his nightvision gear on right now so he can't see your flustered face, thank good, but you're sure he can feel your heart drumming in your chest

You try to move a little to get some of your weight off him, but as you do you end up pressing down on his dick, feeling it twitch in his pants, "You can't put me in a small, cramped space with a cute girl like you and expect me not to have this reaction. I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable but it should go away as long as you stay still." He huffed out a half-laugh, half-groan when you moved again, "You're... stop. You're gonna it even..." You roll your hips again, "You little brat." His gloved hand smack your ass cheeks, kneading the soft flesh under his fingers

He can't smack you too much because you might get heard, "It's a nice sound though. Maybe some other time." Definitely some other time

The more you move the harder his erection gets to ignore

You're cursing against his neck, breathing faster and faster while he massages your tender ass and guides your hips at the same time

Some of the gear is still in the way but you can feel the muscles of his arms and legs against you, as well as the imprint of his cock against your clothed pussy

It feels hot, but this friction isn't enough to get you off, you need more, "But you can't stay quiet. Imagine if the enemy were to find us while you're in the middle of riding my cock. I think I'd die before the bullets hit." Despite that he's chuckling against your neck, "There is a way we can actually do this. Lift my mask up a little, it's okay."

You never imagined Simon's lips to be so soft, or his tongue so skilled

That and the fact that his cock already felt so big despite the clothing in the way had your imagination reeling

"You like how big I am compared to you. With your body being... well on the shorter side I must confess that I've been scared to get rough with you during training." Simon's lips brushed against your neck, his hips thrusting upwards as much as the small space enabled him, which wasn't much, but enough to get you close

Just a little more, "I wonder if you can even take my dick. Might be too big for you." You shook your head, rocking your hips back and forth in tandem with his, "So enthusiastic about being split open. Love me a good, little size queen slut. Who knew there was one in my squad?" Simon cut off your moan with his lips right as you began to near your climax

His hips stilled against yours, pinned down under yours actually while his cock pulsed in his pants, staining their front

He held you against his chest, trying to calm his breathing in this small space

Both of you stiffened when you heard footsteps approaching, all the adrenaline of your little encounter washed away, they got closer, closer, closer... "Oh, hey John! It's just you! You'll never guess what I found out about our new teammate."

#cod x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x female reader #simon ghost x reader #cod imagine #cod headcanons #cod smut #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley x female reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #mw2 headcanons #mw2 smut #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #call of duty imagine #call of duty headcanons

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littlexdeaths · 16 days

Text

pushing up daisies - e.m.

kas eddie munson x fem reader

treat me bad like i’m no one's daughter,

body bag, baby, i’m a goner…

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: ANGSTTTTT, mentions of eddie’s death and the upside down, canon divergent (reader is chosen as vecna’s last victim instead of max), established relationship, soft!dom eddie, biting/blood drinking, lil bit of jealous eddie, public sex, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

based on love is a… by pvris

word count: 2.9k

a/n: this is honestly something i am so incredibly proud of, so i hope you all enjoy it. a big thank you to my babes @undead-supernova @strangerstilinski and @lokis-army-77 for helping me with parts of this fic, i love you all so much 💕

The sky was dark, storm clouds rolling in as you trudged through the rusted gates of Hawkin’s memorial cemetery.

Only the booming sounds of thunder and your labored breathing filled the morning air. Rain droplets poured steadily onto your head, dripping down the collar of your rain jacket. The clothing seemingly useless as the heavy rain soaked you to the bone.

The wild daisies clutched in your fist were beginning to wilt as your eyes scanned over the sea of headstones. Your throat tightens once you find his, now wishing that Dustin had been lying to you.

The words BURN IN HELL FREAK were still visible, despite the male’s best effort to clean them off the previous day. It had been less than a week since the funeral, but that was plenty of time for someone to vandalize his headstone. You hated this town.

Reaching the now desecrated grave you sigh, gently running your fingers along the top of the headstone. The rough edges scraped against your fingertips as you knelt down in front of it. Letting your hand fall into your lap, glancing down at the sad excuse of a bouquet in the other.

He deserved more than this… he deserved more than anything this shitty town had to offer.

“Hey Eds,” you whisper, despite the desolation surrounding you.

You carefully set the daisies onto the ground, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill past your waterline. The white of the flowers contrasted sharply against the dirt, which was quickly turning to mud beneath your knees. But you didn’t mind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the funeral,” guilt laces your shaky voice as you tug your lower lip between your teeth. “I just… I couldn’t see you like that.”

Despite the feeble attempts that Dustin and Robin made to coax you out of bed that day, nothing was going to change your mind. You didn’t want to remember him that way, as you were already grappling with the image of him dying in Dustin’s arms.

A memory that haunts your dreams every night.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you mumble, reaching into your pocket to pull out his lucky set of dice. A sad smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you begin to place them along his headstone, “I brought a peace offering.”

A loud crack has your eyes flicking up, body jolting in surprise as a bolt of lightning strikes a tree in the distance. The impact splits the trunk down the middle, the wind picking up speed and taking your flowers with it.

The torn petals spread across the unkempt ground, the gesture now ruined. Just like everything else you touched.

You blame yourself for his death, knowing he would still be here if Vecna hadn't chosen you. You would live through a thousand years in a prison of your own mind, let that monster drain you of your entire existence— if it meant Eddie would have lived.

“It’s all my fault,” you don’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, staring intently at the stone in front of you.

Edward Lee Munson, now at peace.

Those bold words stare back at you, mirroring the stone that sat just a few feet besides his. One you had become very familiar with over the years.

Elizabeth Ann Munson.

Beloved wife and mother, may she rest in peace.

While hers were more faded, they still brought you a small sense of comfort. Knowing that Eddie was with her now, he was safe. But that comfort wouldn’t heal the hole that had been punched through your chest.

“I miss you,” you hiccup, your tears steadily flowing now, the moisture beginning to blur your vision. “It w-wasn’t supposed to b-be you.”

Your soft cries soon morphed into pained sobbing, your shoulders hunched over as you dug your fists into the earth. You were grateful that Steve had let you come alone, not wanting anyone to see you like this.

In the short time that Eddie had been gone, you felt suffocated. With Vecna still alive and plotting, you were constantly being watched. Your friends not knowing if the demon, creature, whatever he was— would come back to claim you for good.

Part of you hoped for it, mentally pleaded to be taken away too. Because a life without Eddie, wasn’t a life you wanted to live.

A loud scream pierces the air, and it takes you a moment to realize the sound has come from you. Your chest heaves from the force of it, allowing your head to tilt back as your eyes slip shut. Enjoying how the rain soaks into your pores, washing away any trace of your tears.

You sit like that for a while, as the storm continues to wage on around you. Silently wishing that the rain would wash you away too. Dirt is caked under your fingernails, mud coated your shins and the hem of your skirt. You knew you couldn’t sit out here much longer, as your teeth started to chatter from the cold.

Your head falls forward, allowing yourself one last look at his headstone. The red paint has stained it horribly, tainting the last thing he had left in this world.

“I’ll come back tomorrow and clean this shit up, I promise.” You say, lifting up your pinky towards the block of stone. You hold it there for a moment before your hand falls back to your side.

“I love you, Eddie,” you sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you start to stand. Turning around as you begin to wipe the dirt from your knees.

As you take a step forward your shoe begins to sink into the wet soil, almost swallowing your foot whole. An annoyed huff leaves your lips as you try to pull it back out. But any attempt is stopped short as a cold hand wraps around your other ankle. A deep groan echoes in your ears as your eyes widen in fear.

This was it… Vecna’s come back for you.

While everything inside you begs you to run, your body remains frozen. Hyperventilating as the ground beneath you begins to shift, your feet sinking in deeper as another body fights its way out from the earth. A strained grunt of your name snaps you out of your petrified state, recognizing the voice immediately.

This was a cruel joke, knowing he was taking on Eddie’s form just to hurt you more. So you decided you wouldn’t stick around to witness it.

If you were going to die, it would be by his own hands.

“No!” You shout, yanking your ankle out of that icy grip as you make a break for it.

You don’t make it very far though, only reaching the edge of his grave before you lose your footing. The tip of your shoe catches on a tree root, sending your body tumbling forward onto the wet ground. The impact knocks the wind out of you as you struggle to take a breath in. Your nails dig into the grass for purchase as you try to crawl away.

The feeling of two hands wrapping around each ankle has you screaming, thrashing about as you're dragged back towards the grave. The male flips you around, unable to hear his broken pleas over the sound of your own shrieks. You keep your eyes focused on the storm clouds above your heads, desperate for some kind of distraction. You wouldn’t look at him, you couldn’t.

This wasn’t your Eddie.

A dirty hand grips onto your chin, tilting your head down as he wedges his body between your thighs. Forcing you to face him, his dark eyes ablaze with fury— a sharp contrast to the way he gently cradles your jaw.

“I’m not in the mood for games… just get on with it,” you snap, letting your eyes slip shut as you wait for that familiar pain to shoot up your spine and through your skull.

But nothing happens.

You crack an eye open only to find the brunette staring back down at you, confusion coating his features.

“… get on with what, sweetheart?” His voice cracks, the look on his face mirroring his tone.

“Killing me,” you state, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

There’s a moment of silence between you before he starts laughing, the booming sound instantly melts your insides. It was something you thought you would never hear again.

“I guess my entrance was very Night of the Living Dead, huh?” He teases with a wide grin as his head dips lower— his drenched curls sticking to your cheek.

When you feel Eddie’s lips connect with the base of your throat, your breath hitches. Heat pools in your middle as he inhales, groaning deeply. The sound vibrates against your skin, sending shockwaves through your system.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he hums, his hands running down the length of your sides. The male grips onto the soaked fabric of your dress, slowly inching it up until his palms are splayed across the tops of your thighs.

“You’re so warm,” he continues, his nose grazing along your collarbone as you grip onto the shoulders of his oversized suit jacket.

“H-How are you here?” You question with a small whine as he lightly nips at your throat, chuckling deeply.

“You brought me here, sweetheart.” His words are spoken reassuringly, but they don’t offer you any comfort.

“So, this is a dream,” there’s no question in your voice, only a trace of melancholy.

But Eddie notices it immediately, his head lifting from the crook of your neck. His dark eyes met yours for a moment, a look of determination flashing through his irises.

“Does this feel like a dream to you, baby?”

Before you can reply, his lips brush against yours. Any worries that this wasn’t real melt away with each press of his mouth on yours. Silencing the fear that this will all disappear the moment you pull apart. The storm rages on as he kisses you with an electricity that rivals the lightning above you.

“Definitely not a dream,” you mumble, earning a soft chuckle from him.

You swallow the sound as you kiss him deeper, his ringed fingers gliding further up your thighs and under your dress. Your own slip underneath the collar of his jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Letting the rain soak into his white dress shirt, the fabric clinging to the muscles in his back.

Your hands quickly rake through his hair, tugging on the drenched curls as his mouth trails along your jaw. Continuing lower as he sucks harshly on your skin, enjoying the way your body responds to each press of his lips. A breathy whine spills past your own as his fingers reach the elastic band of your panties.

The tension between you continues to mount as you eagerly drag his mouth back to yours. Eddie’s fingers curl under the waistband, snapping the lace against your skin. You barely register the tearing of that same fabric, too preoccupied with his lips on yours. The clinking of his belt soon follows, aiding him in pushing his slacks down his thighs.

“Please,” you plead, lifting your hips against his. Not wanting to waste another second to have him buried inside you.

The brunette gently shushes you, pulling back for a moment as he rubs the tip of cock through your drenched folds. His pupils dilate as he takes in the way your lips part under his thumb. A shaky breath escapes them as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he coos, caressing your cheek as he guides his hips forward. Slowly slipping into your awaiting heat with a strangled groan, “I’ll take care of you.”

His actions are gentle, as your bodies become reacquainted with each other. Eddie guides your hands above your head, fingers lacing together in the dirt. Your thighs are snug around his hips, desperate to keep him as close as humanly possible.

He rocks his hips into yours at a deep but leisurely pace, letting him savor every moment he spends inside you. As neither of you know what will happen after this is all over, it’s not something you want to think about.

Being here, in this moment, with him is the only thing that mattered to you.

The ferocity of the storm drowns out the cries that leave your lips, much different from the agonized ones you had let out earlier. Everything feels heightened, pleasure coursing through your veins with each stroke of his cock.

There’s a sudden shift in his demeanor as his eyes glaze over with an almost dangerous glint. Similar to that of a predator who had locked eyes on his prey. Your heart rate increases as a deep growl permeates the air. His fingers slip out of yours, instead digging into the soil beside you as his body goes rigid.

The brown of his irises disappear from view as he squeezes them shut, worry beginning to fill your chest. Your hands reach up to cradle his face, feeling how tightly his jaw was clenched underneath your fingertips.

“Eds,” you call softly, but the male remains frozen above you— a statue of Adonis.

He was losing control, ready to slip through your fingers. But you had already lost him once, and you weren't about to let it happen again.

“Stay with me,” you implore, softly pressing your lips against the furrow between his eyes. Brushing the dirt from his cheeks as you continue to trail tender kisses across his face.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally speaks as your lips hover over his, your breath mingling together.

“You won’t,” you promise as your nose nudges against his.

Eddie seems reluctant as he opens his eyes, crimson beginning to bleed into his irises. “But there’s something different…” he trails off, searching for any trace of fear reflecting in your eyes. “I’m different.”

“I don’t care,” you don’t miss a beat, capturing his lips with yours once more.

He moans into your mouth, hands encircling your waist as you lift your hips, encouraging him to thrust deeper inside you. Your tongue slips past his lips, gliding along his front teeth. Coming to a sudden realization as you feel the pointed edge of his canines.

Logically you should feel frightened, but it seems to have the opposite effect on you. Your kisses become frantic as your walls flutter around his shaft, the sensation causing him to moan out your name. The pace of his hips quickens as your nails dig into the drenched dress shirt covering his back.

Your lips separate as you gasp, his cock hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. The both of you falling closer to that precipice with each thrust of his hips. But it’s not quite enough, needing to connect with him on a new level.

Eddie peers down at you in awe as your head falls back, baring your throat to him. “Do it,” you insist, guiding his mouth towards your neck.

You can sense his hesitation, his lips ghosting over your skin instead.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg, his groan vibrating against your throat. “I want you to.”

The sincerity in your tone squashes any doubts still lingering in his head. Allowing his teeth to graze against your tender flesh, testing his resolve.

“I trust you,” is what he needs to hear before he sinks his teeth into your neck.

Your body arches into his chest, trembling as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you— pulling you under completely. Eddie drinks from you greedily, continuing to work you through your high as his own steadily approaches.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he moans as his teeth detach themselves from your throat.

His tongue darts out, lapping up the blood that begins to trickle down the curve of your neck. The sight of his mark on you is almost enough to send him over the edge. But your pretty whines are the final nail in his coffin, hips stuttering as he fills you with his warmth.

“I love you.”

Those three little words are whispered against your collarbone as the male collapses onto you. A content smile spreads across your face as your fingers card themselves through his curls. The both of you soaking up this moment of bliss for as long as you can.

The rain above your heads has finally slowed to a drizzle, the pitter patter of the droplets matching your heartbeat. You don’t know how long you laid there like this, bodies intertwined on his grave.

But it didn’t matter, as long as it was him you were entangled with.

“I love you too,” you reply a while later, the male humming as he lifts his face from the crook of your neck, crimson smeared across his lips.

A fond look falls over his features as he leans down to kiss you again, the metallic taste of you lingering on his mouth. A thought suddenly occurs to you, causing you to giggle against his lips.

“What’s so funny, sweetness?” He muses, pulling away from you with a raised brow. You tuck a loose curl behind his ear, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Just trying to think of how to explain this to Steve.” You watch in amusement as a scowl appears on his face.

“Poor thing is gonna think I was mauled by a wild animal,” you tease, gesturing to the bite mark on your neck.

You see a flash of jealousy in his eyes, a low growl rumbles through his chest as his lips reattach themselves to your throat— causing you to squeal.

“Harrington’s just gonna have to deal with it,” he answered smugly, hugging your body closer to his.

The both of you completely unaware of the looming figure watching you from the tree line.

tagging some lovelies: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @nailbatanddungeon @vecslut @likedovesinthewnd @lofaewrites

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #kas!eddie munson x reader #kas!eddie munson

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twobluejeans · 10 months

Text

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 6: reckless, part 5: relevancy, part 4: emo ponytail girl, part 3: dupeee, part 2:wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 6! #juticefory/n . shoutout to the anon who inspired this chapter, u helped sm and gave me further ideas💌. a lot of tswift references 🫶

INSTAGRAM, july 14

liked by dannylandopnj, alltoowellcharles, and 321,543 others

f1updates carlos recently in an interview in which y/n and charles got brought up

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sainzpodium this is why carlos is the better ferrari driver

lewishsystem “loyal and trust are crucial in any relationship” wym by that 🤨

hereforicciardo the way carlos didn’t even interact with charles today in the paddock before and after the race

lewisfever lewisystem “it’s hard to ignore certain actions and how they reflect on a person’s character” the way he’s confirming the rumors bro 😭

russeliclassy lewisfever what rumors?

lewisfever russeliclassy charles cheated

INSTAGRAM, july 14

liked by naileadevora, lewishamilton, and 4,567,245 others

yourinstagram surprise. i know u guys are already getting 2 new songs from me with the new midnight deluxe edition on the 17th, but i still have a lot to say. meet me at midnight on chapter 1 for a story that turned out to be pretty…reckless.

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billieeilish already crying

dojacatstreetsera the devil works hard, but y/n l/n world harder

landonorris song’s mid (i’ve listened to it 3 times so far and have sobbed uncontrollably🥲)

yourinstagram landonorris weak (i broke down mid-recording session)

barbiey/n no i cant i’m not ready

INSTAGRAM, july 14

INSTAGRAM, july 15 (midnight)

liked by zendaya, authurleclerc, and 6,543,127 others

yourinstagram thank you dearly to everyone who helped bring this video and this wild idea of mine to life... petracollins i truly could never have done this without you & to the rest of the amazing crew who worked 3 very long days & then a very long week... thank you, from the bottom of my heart. i also want to thank lando, who photographed these amazing photos awhile back when we were in manchester. landonorris i love u. reckless, both single & mv, out now everywhere 🤍 🏹

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beyonce So beautiful ❤️

aliensuperstary/n beyoncé ADAM SANDLER?? WHAT R U DOING HERE😭

tchalamet proud of you ma chérie

yourinstagram tchalamet hi thank you i love u i miss u

onlychalamet tchalamet yourinstagram i love their friendship sm

salmahayek nunca dejas de sorprenderme. Estoy tan orgullosa de ti y tan feliz y emocionada de verte prevalecer a través de todo🫶🫶🩷🩷

see translation? salmahayek: You never cease to amaze me. I am so proud of you and so happy and excited to see you prevail through it all.

yourinstagram salmahayek muchas gracias tus palabras siempre significan el mundo para mí. te amo y te extraño mucho. ¡No puedo esperar a verte a ti y a Valentina pronto!

see translation? yourinstagram: thank u so much. your words always mean the world to me. i love you and miss you dearly. cant wait to see you and valentina soon!

90sbabyy/n salmahayek yourinstagram why am i just finding out salma is y/n’s godmother? hello what

bellahadid i love. so happy to see u turned ur pain n hurt into something so beautiful ... only heard some of it and already know it's so special. ok. enough of that. i feel like i've typed more than i needed to. love u! proud of u!

yourinstagram bellahadid u bitch why would u type this? now i'm crying in the middle of a re-run of narcos

danielricciardo yourinstagram you said u we’re gonna wait till i got to italy to watch it with me…

yourinstagram danielriccicardo ….oops?

landonorris danielricciardo you see me personally, i wouldn’t let that slide 🤷

danielricciardo yourinstagram #fake #donthmu #streaks #realonesknow

classynorris y/n and lando teaching daniel gen z slang gotta be the funniest thing ever

landonorris classynorris i actually regret it so bad

yourinstagram classynorris biggest mistake ever. he won’t stop saying bombastic side eye. free us

danielricciardo landonorris yourinstagram L + ratio + bozo

TWITTER, july 15

INSTAGRAM STORIES , july 15

yourinstagram 7h

viewed by authurleclerc, charlottesiine, and 4,854,257 others

ally’s radio 📻: yeah 😌. people in the instagram story views + the song itself might be a little sneak peak of the next chapter.

taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife @mrsmaybank13 @black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx @lilsiz @ohthemisssery @leclerclvr @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @shessthunderstoms @cool-ultra-nerd @ncentic @playboykenz @canvashearts @tinyhrry @xeliaaaa @ifionlywould

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katsu28 · 10 months

Text

through the lens

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

summary: a richmond win, a trip to ola’s, and a camera is all it takes to find out how jamie tartt really feels about you

warnings: swearing ofc, reader is afc richmond's team photographer, 2.5k

a/n: humbly inviting begging anyone and everyone to drop ted lasso requests from this list or this one in my inbox <3 i write for jamie, roy, sam, dani, and isaac! now pls enjoy the result of my jamie tartt brainrot

The atmosphere in the locker room was positively electric.

AFC Richmond was fresh off their first win in a very long time, and everyone was beyond ecstatic, buzzing with residual adrenaline and pride on a game well played. All the players were in a huddle in the center of the room, jumping at each other with nothing but pure joy in their eyes.

All you could do was try your best to capture the moment without getting in the way of the festivities, which you somehow managed by climbing up onto one of the benches in front of the lockers as you snapped picture after picture of the team getting their celebration on. Nobody really paid you any mind throughout, until you turned your camera on one Jamie Tartt, who was already looking right at you the second your viewfinder focused on him.

He beamed, lifted his hand up in a small wave, and for a split second you thought he might’ve started to make his way over to you, but he was caught on the shoulder and redirected by an overjoyed Dani Rojas. You swiveled away from Jamie and towards where Colin and Isaac had started some sort of chant that you could barely make out over the ruckus.

Focusing on them gave you the chance to let your heart rate settle back down after sharing that split second moment with Jamie. It was pathetic, really—pining over someone like him.

More of a silly little crush than anything, you knew it would never lead to anything because you’d rather a sinkhole open up in the middle of the road and swallow you up than tell Jamie that you liked him. But that didn’t stop your feelings for him from growing. He’d come back to AFC Richmond someone different—sweet and empathetic and the biggest supporter of his fellow Greyhounds—which made it that much harder to keep your crush under wraps.

Hell, Keeley had figured it out within weeks of his return and accidentally let it slip to Roy. He’d very gruffly assured you that he hadn’t told a soul, but you were sure that the whole team knew about it by now. Everyone except Jamie. You’d never been so glad for his thick head.

“Alright, I know y’all are excited about the win, I am too but listen up!” Coach Lasso’s voice cut through the commotion, hands waving over his head to get his players’ attention. At the drop of a hat, every single one of them fell quiet, eagerly awaiting what their beloved coach had to say.

You were looking forward to it too, not only because a Lasso signature speech was always a great opportunity to get raw, unfiltered photos of the team, but because he always had something positive to say, no matter what the outcome on the pitch had been. The amount of love and care Ted Lasso had for his players was his strong suit, and it showed in everyone’s respect for him.

“I’m real proud of what all y’all did out there on the pitch tonight. I know I say that after every match and I mean it every time, but this one is just a little bit sweeter. I appreciate every single one of you boys more than you could imagine,” He continued, looking to address each person. They looked like kids again, giddy with glee as they soaked in their coach’s praise.

You took shot after shot of everyone in the moment, so enveloped in your craft that you didn’t notice someone had come to stand beside you until you let your camera hang. That was when you noticed Jamie, inching closer with an innocent look on his face until he saw you looking down at him.

“Hiya,” He said, playfully nudging your leg with a cheeky smile. “Gettin’ a good view up there?”

“Shouldn’t you be listening to your coach?” You shot back, fighting the urge to pick your camera back up and take a shot of his lopsided grin and stupidly endearing twinkle in his eye as he looked up at you.

“Nothin’ I haven’t heard before.” Jamie shrugged, but he turned back around to look at Ted.

Even though he wasn’t paying attention to you, it was hard not to pay attention to him. That was a problem you’d increasingly been running into, not being able to focus when Jamie was around. You thought you’d had it under wraps, but it seemed like you’d developed a sixth sense for whenever he wandered into your vicinity. And lately, that sense had been pinging a lot more than usual.

Maybe you were reading too much into things, but it seemed like Jamie had been popping up everywhere you went in the facility. Granted, it was mainly the pitch and the locker room hallways, but it flustered you all the same. One brief conversation about even something mundane like weekend plans or the weather paired with a smile and a cheeky wink before he disappeared around a corner and you were left wondering what you’d been doing in the first place.

Ted was closing out his speech by the time you’d remembered you were actually supposed to be doing your job right now. You jerked out of your thoughts, snapping a few photos of the coaching staff before he finished up for the night. “Now go ahead and let loose, golden goose!”

“I’m pretty sure it is geese, Coach,” Sam chimed in, giving him a good natured smile.

“You know what I mean! Go have some fun, celebrate, all that jazz. But not too much fun because I expect to be seein’ y’all bright and early tomorrow morning for practice. Remember, the early bird gets the worm! See, I know I did that one right.” With that, Ted waved the team off, retreating back into the coaches’ office with Coach Beard on his heels and leaving them with all their pent up energy.

“Sam says we’re all going to Ola’s to celebrate!” Bumbercatch exclaimed, drawing a roar of approval from the rest of the team.

“You comin’ with us?” Jamie asked you hopefully, tilting his head to the side a bit. Warmth bloomed on your cheeks at the prospect of him wanting you to tag along. “Catch the festivities, give the people what they want?”

Oh. He was asking because you were their photographer. Not for the other foolishly hopeful reason you were thinking of. Of course.

“Yeah, I’ll tag along. Gotta catch you boys in your natural habitat, don’t I?”

Jamie’s mouth lifted into a cool smirk. “‘Course you do. You can catch a ride with me, if you want.”

“Oh! Um, only if it’s not too much trouble.” You could only hope you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt.

He nodded, extending a hand up towards you to help you down from your perch. You accepted it maybe a bit too eagerly, because your step down from the bench put you a little closer to Jamie than you’d planned, barely a few inches between the two of you. You swore you almost stopped breathing when his chest brushed against yours as he inhaled a sharp breath. You forced yourself to meet his gaze, and it almost looked like he was as stunned as you.

You both mumbled an apology, words tumbling over each other messily as you stepped apart. His hand flew up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. Yours went straight for your camera, busying yourself with a few random buttons as if it were a defense mechanism. Neither of you could look at the other for a good while, not until you got into Jamie’s car and were on the way to Ola’s to meet the rest of the team.

“So. What’d you think of the game?”

“S’good! You did great, Jamie,” You exclaimed, excited now. It was true, Jamie had been on fire tonight with a goal and two assists. “All of you did great.”

“Should I pose for ya next time? Give ya a proper action shot?“ He sounded only half joking. “M’trusting you to make me look good, y’know!”

“Posing is overrated. I like the shots I get when you lot get out there on the pitch. They’re natural.”

“But what if I make a stupid face when I pass the ball? Those can’t be any good.”

“They’re called candids, and I happen to think they look better than your promotional shots.”

“Bullshit! I looked sexy in those shots and you know it.”

While he wasn’t wrong, you had a point to prove now. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three in your head before picking your camera back up, swiveling in your seat and snapping one, two, three pictures of him.

Jamie’s brow furrowed at the shutter clicks, giving you a confused glance over in your direction. “Oi! What’s that for?”

“That’s a candid.” You said simply, ignoring your heart pounding a million miles a minute against your ribcage. You flicked through the photos, pleased to see that they’d come out just as you suspected—perfect.

“Not even getting my good angle, some photographer you are,” He muttered, giving his head an overexaggerated shake.

“All your angles are good, Jamie,” You scoffed. “And you don’t need me to make you look good, ‘cause you’re doing it just fine on your own.” You didn’t realize what you’d said until a beat later when he looked extremely delighted, but every part of what you said was true.

Even caught off guard and driving, Jamie Tartt looked unfairly good. The lights off the dashboard washed over his handsome face in a warm light, making him look softer than the harsh lights of Nelson Road did.

On the football pitch, he was tough and cocky, mouthing off to opposing team with the sole purpose of getting under their skin, and the lighting reflected that. He was Jamie Tartt, a striker with a right foot kissed by God, one of the greatest footballers in Richmond history. In this car, here with just the two of you, he was at ease. His guard was down, his facade gone. He was just Jamie Tartt, a boy from Manchester. That was the Jamie you’d grown some not-so-small feelings for.

Ola’s was definitely quieter than any pub in Richmond would’ve been, though you suspected that the team rather enjoyed it this way. They loved and appreciated their fans, but it was nice to be surrounded by friends as opposed to being gawked at the whole night. Even so, someone had turned on music with a heavy beat that thumped through the restaurant and everyone was having a good time.

It was the perfect opportunity to grab a few more quick shots of the team and you took it gratefully, milling around the place for a bit snapping pictures here and there before coming back to your seat to flick through everything. You had to see what you could give the PR team to put on Richmond’s socials.

A pint of beer slid in front of you drew you away from your camera, but it was mostly the smiling Jamie who’d slid into the chair next to you. He leaned in a little closer to be heard over the chatter of the restaurant, bracing his arm on the back of your chair.

“D’you ever stop working?”

“Meaning?”

“Nothin’ bad! I just mean…every time I see ya you’re nose deep in that camera, barely get t’see your face.”

“The point of my job is to see your face, not mine,” You joked, growing more nervous at the way he was looking at you, like he meant he actually wanted to see your face more instead. Jamie’s expression softened into something fond, knee bumping against yours gently, fingers brushing against your shoulder. His touch sent a feeling not unlike static shock through you, racing through your veins and sending your heart thundering loudly in your ears.

You were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you and leaning closer still, so close you could see a smudge of dirt from the pitch on his neck that he’d missed, the flecks of gray in his blue eyes.

“S’shame. Got a face too pretty to be behind the lens all the time. Prettier than mine, even.”

“Stop it,” You mumbled, but there was no real force behind your words. Jamie thought you were pretty. It made you feel giddy inside.

“No, you stop it. You’re stunnin’.” He insisted, looking entirely sincere.

“You’re just saying that.”

“M’not. I mean it.” Jamie shook his head vehemently. You pressed your lips together, denying it still. “You don’t believe me. Here,” He was quick to grab your camera off the table carefully, leaning back a bit and hitting the shutter button determinedly. You’d barely managed to stretch an arm over your face before the flash went off. He squinted at the tiny screen, studying it for a few seconds before smiling proudly.

“Think I finally know what’s so good about those candids you keep talkin’ about. That one’s a keeper.” He was firm in his words, turning the camera around to show you the picture he’d taken. Part of your face was obscured by your outstretched hand, but you could see most of your smile and a gleam in your eyes that you didn’t know you had until this very moment. You liked it.

“D’you wanna go on a date with me sometime?” He asked hopefully, fiddling with the edges of his shirtsleeves. Warmth flooded your cheeks in an instant. “A proper one, where I can come by yours and ring your doorbell and give you flowers and all that shit.”

“Someone give Lust Conquers All a ring, ‘cause Jamie Tartt is a changed man!” You shouldn’t have been cracking jokes right now. It definitely wasn’t the time, but you couldn’t help yourself. It escaped before you could take it back.

But Jamie just rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, alright, have a laugh. You didn’t say yes.”

“I also didn’t say no.” You pointed out, scooting a few inches closer to him. He returned the gesture, sliding towards you until your knees pressed together. You were inches away from each other, again, but this time it was different. This time, you knew how he felt about you.

“That’s still not a yes.” He said softly, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard it had you not been as close to him as you were right now.

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and his eyes fluttered shut. “How’s that for a yes?”

“S’good. Missed the mark though. Should be more like…” He trailed off, sneaking a quick peck to your lips before grinning sheepishly. “That.”

“Sneaky boy.” You rolled your eyes, but your tone was anything but annoyed. “Good thing you’re cute.”

He preened at your compliment, giving a little self satisfied smile. “And a good photographer?”

“Decent. If football doesn’t pan out, maybe I could make you my assistant.”

“That mean I get to spend all day with you?”

“If you can handle it.”

Jamie’s lips quirked up into a soft smile and he kissed you again, a little longer this time. His hand moved up your shoulder around the back of your neck tenderly, a blooming warmth against your skin. “I’ll manage.”

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#someone tell me to go to bed #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt one shot #jamie tartt imagine

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hitlikehammers · 2 months

Text

to die by your side (is such a heavenly way to die)

rating: t ♥️ cw: angst with a happy ending (which is actually kinda fluffy?), limbo/near-death experiences, post-S4/Upside Down-heavy, falling in love ♥️ tags: falling for each other in the space between life and death, happy ending

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-six: Love is a fire that never goes out (@sidekick-hero)

this is because of 1) this song being too close to the prompt for me to disengage it in my head, and the chorus therefore dictating this plot line, and 2) @hbyrde36 picked it and, again, I am very susceptible to people indicating they like a thing and would enjoy more, so @hbyrde36: I hope you enjoy what this became ♥️

“Oh fuck, not you, too.”

Steve looks up—when did he sit down, he doesn’t remember sitting down, he doesn’t remember how even got here, and hey, actually, where is here—

“What?” Steve looks toward the voice; familiar. See the wreath of curls around a pale face.

“This is death, right?” Eddie’s crossing over to him, crouching just beside; “I’m dead, like, I am very sure I’m dead, but you’re here, so—“

“I don’t,” Steve breathes in sharp—tries to get his bearings, tries to see but it’s just black in every direction, his lungs feel like they’re halved in size all of sudden, everything feels tight and painful and hard like inhaling isn’t something guaranteed, and his heartbeat feels like it’s dragging the carcass of something with it when it pumps, laborious and—

He’s is breathing, though, even if it’s kinda half-assed; he’s got a heartbeat, even if it feels like it’s about to fucking give out.

That doesn’t…that doesn’t sound like death.

“I,” Steve licks his lips; his mouth is so fucking dry but swelling kinda hurts and…he’s not as fucked up as he has a feeling he should be, he needs to think harder than he’s ready for just now to figure out what the last thing that happened between where he was, and where he is but: he thinks he should be more fucked up on, like, an instinctual level that knows he should be pretty fucked up, basically, and he’s not.

But again: he still hurts, and that…also doesn’t sound like death.

He swallows anyway; not that it helps.

“Max said there was this, black void,” Steve works through the first thing that comes to mind slowly, processes as he speaks; “with water,” and he looks down and sees the ripples in what he’s sitting in, moving around him but…but the reflections are right, and there’s no light so how are there even wrong reflections; he wasn’t good in his science classes but he feels pretty sure you need light to see anything in a mirror, plus—

“Water,” he flicks his hand from the standing pool around him up at Eddie without warning: “that wasn’t wet.”

Eddie splutters, but it dies down quick: it’s supposed to be wet. He expects it to be.

But it’s not. His eyes go so fucking big.

“It’s attached to the Upside Down,” Steve pushes on; “Eleven can like, come here, but,” he shakes his head and Eddie grimaces: she lost her powers.

“So it’s almost-death,” Eddie surmises, and drops into the not-water next to Steve.

“I guess so,” Steve shrugs, and draws his legs up; hugs his knees.

“Fucking great,” Eddie huffs, sneers, and it’s…Steve not sure why exactly, but it feels…targeted. Directed at him, because one, yes: he isthe only other thing here—as far as he can tell—but the words Eddie’d no-greeted him with float back into his consciousness:

Not you.

“Sorry to rain on your parade, man,” Steve bites out and shoves his head down between his thighs, maybe to breathe, maybe to think, maybe to hide, maybe to fucking cry, maybe to…fuck, he doesn’t even know.

He thinks he’s in the middle of trying to split the difference of every possible thing when Eddie’s voice breaks the still in the dark: “I didn’t,” and honestly, Steve’s never heard that voice sound so soft, so small; “that’s not what I meant,” and it’s an apology even if they words don’t add up exact, Steve feels it clear like a blow to the solar plexus. He turns to Eddie, who’s staring out at the nothing.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Eddie whispers, and his lip trembles, Steve can see that despite the lack of light.

Steve can see tears on that face, too, despite the lack of any light.

“But I hate that you’re here,” Eddie’s voice catches on kind of a whine, and Steve maybe would startle, when a hand reaches out and covers his; Eddie still does look at him, but he flattens his hand over Steve’s like a squeeze:

“That you’re here, too.”

And, oh. Okay.

Okay.

They’re here, then. Together.

Here.

___________________

It takes a while—he thinks; he thinks it’s a while, but one of the first things that makes itself plain in this godforsaken place is how times means absolutely fucking nothing, so; he think it takes a while to remember the vines.

They were coming back for Robin, and Steve would die before he let her get hurt so: that’s the last thing he remembers.

For Eddie, it’s the bats; Steve grimaces, hates even imagining like…swarms of them. More of their bites.

He’s the one who reaches for Eddie’s hand, this time—he wants to say it’s just a little comfort for the particularly bad things that are coming up as they sit here, as they draw patterns in the not-water and blow against it to make little waves just for shits, mindless and stupid: he wants to say that when it gets too much, and then keeps going, when it’s the worst, they’ve started to reach because what else can they do? Who else can they lean on?

Who’s gonna fucking know?

Actually: no. He doesn’t want to say that.

He wants to say the truth: the truth being they touch a lot. They reach a lot. They reach because it’s quiet. They reach because it’s dark. They reach because they’re frustrated. Or they’re scared. Steve could map Eddie’s calluses blind if he was asked to. Eddie traces his veins without being able to see close enough to know that he’s right.

He wants to say the truth: that he wants to touch. He craves it. And not just from anyone.

He craves this.

He doesn’t know what that fucking means.

But he’s the one who reaches, and covers Eddie’s hand, presses down to keep him when Eddie remembers the bats.

And he’s the one who leans, who rests their shoulders together and holds his breath.

But Eddie is the one who doesn’t move away, who leans in too, he tips his head onto Steve and breathes out slow so Steve can feel the warm damp of it on his skin and…

Steve’s heart’s fucking pounding, but then also it’s kinda like fluttering, and either way:

That’s not death.

___________________

Steve likes that the not-water is…not water, because lying back in it doesn’t fuck up his hair. Which…feels cleaner than it should be he figures maybe that’s just the same as both he and Eddie not being riddled with the wounds they should be rights be covered in—he can run his hands through it and that’s really all he wants, his hands, or like, you know if other hands wanted—

Whatever; he’s not going to question the not-water. He’s happy it doesn’t make him a wet dog just for trying to lay back and pretend there are stars.

Which he’d still be doing, if a weird…flapping noise hadn’t started up over to the left.

He has to squint in the no-light to see what the fuck’s going on, something in Eddie’s hands, oh shit, flapping, is it one of those fucking bats—

“What the fuck?”

Eddie freezes, and turns. And Steve sees what’s in his hands.

Doesn’t change his question.

Eddie just blinks at him. And runs his thumbs over the desk of cards he’s holding, flicking them one by one: flapping.

“Where the hell did those come from?”

Eddie shrugs. “Pocket.”

Steve gapes a little.

“You’ve had them the whole time?” because again, even if the feeling’s shifted: what the fuck

“Lots of pockets, man,” Eddie grins cheekily as he shakes his jacket out, like Steve can see any pockets.

Then he’s walking over to Steve on his knees before dropping cross-legged and shuffling the deck before he taps them out on his thigh and leans in:

“Pick your poison.”

And Steve’s played his share of cards, is actually pretty decent at poker, but, like…

“I don’t,” he bites his lip and stares at the predictable red pattern of the face-down cards;“I don’t want to think,” he finishes, kinda fucking lame, but Eddie’s not deterred, flips a few cards off the top with a thump before balancing the rest on his knee, offering half the cards he’s still holding to Steve with a little wiggle of his eyebrows:

“Go Fish?”

And Steve, he, like—

This is not-death, right, but whatever it is, it’s probably not good, and yet here Steve sits, with five cards in his hand and…Jesus.

He feels his lips stretch and he doesn’t think he’s smiled like this in…

In a while.

___________________

“Three Musketeers,” Steve answers when they’re lounging in the not-water, heads lined up so sometimes Steve feels the tickle of Eddie’s curls.

“The fuck?” Eddie huffs a laugh; the question was just things they’d miss if they never get out of here; like, it’s a little morbid and also a little hopeful all at once.

They’ve been working deeper in the category of food for a bit now, and so it’s candy bars. And Steve does not see what’s controversial about his choice, honestly.

“I love those, shit,” Steve waves his hand in the air, dismissing Eddie’s very wrong opinion, here; “they’re just,” Steve hums, tries to figure out the best way to defend a genuinely fucking excellent snack food:

“They’re simple,” and that sounds like a weak defense but look at where they are, look at their lives, that is fucking high praise. “Not too sweet and like, light and airy and,” Steve tilts his head, imagines the mouthfeel:

“Kinda delicate when you bite into ‘em,” he feels himself grin a little: “like bubbles or something,” because…yeah.

They’re awesome, but then he looks over at Eddie, who’s already turned to look at him, his gaze…something. Weighty but not oppressive. Piercing but not painful.

“Sorry,” Steve feels himself flush and it’s no the first time, or the worst time, but he’s grateful just like he is every time that there’s no fucking light and whatever lets them see at all doesn’t give away a blush; “sorry, that’s—“

“That’s adorable,” Eddie says with something…equally undefinable in his voice as much as his eyes, but this thing makes Steve feel, like, warm and tingly, a little, under his skin, in his chest; “you’re right, they’re…” and Eddie reaches for his hand, which they do a lot, yeah, but not…not so often for good things and this feels…like a good thing.

“They’re really good,” Eddie presses his hand over Steve’s, like a blanket, all encompassing—Steve has broad hands but Eddie’s fingers are longer than he’d ever noticed and he—

Steve likes how they fit.

“Under-appreciated, I think,” Eddie’s voice has lowered, softened, and it kinda feels like he’s saying something that has nothing to do with candy bars at all: “because people aren’t looking close enough to see how amazing it is.”

Yeah, for how Eddie’s staring at him, and for how Steve’s pulse has ramped up all of a sudden: Steve doesn’t really think Eddie’s talking about chocolate at all.

___________________

“You’re really good company.”

Eddie turns and blinks Steve’s way.

“What?”

Steve swallows; he’s not sure what made him say it. Except that it’s true.

“I’d have liked it,” he starts, like, expands on the point rather than revisiting the simple part; “if we could have, y’know,” and he gestures between them; “hung out.”

Eddie tilts his head, and he doesn’t smile exactly, but it kinda feels like his whole face, maybe his whole body, is a smile.

“Well,” he huffs a little laugh, like a disbelieving sound; “we’re hanging out, now.”

And Steve smiles the normal way, which is probably lesser to look at, but he wishes really hard that Eddie could, like, slip under his skin and see how it feels on the inside. “Yeah,” Steve grins at the darkness for a second, chews his lips a little, suddenly kinda…bashful, fuck:

“Yeah we are,” and then he breathes in deep, and makes himself be brave with something he doesn’t wholly understand:

“I like it,” and that’s an understatement.

And then Eddie hums, and covers Steve’s hand as he murmurs:

“Me too, sweetheart.”

And Steve’s heartbeat catches on that word, or more, reaches for that word, that name, greedy and wild and it pounds out that same desperate mantra blood-in-blood-out unwavering:

not-dead, not-dead, not-dead, not—

___________________

Eddie’s smile is so fucking pretty.

He didn’t know what Speed was, like the card game, so they’ve each got a pile balanced on a knee as the flip and they’re pressed up tight at their crossed legs to make a little table from their limbs for the discards and Eddie’s just…

It’s not just his smile.

“My grandpa taught me to play,” Steve comments idly, mostly just for something to say when it looks like they’re stuck and need to flip from the sides.

“It’s chaotic,” Eddie looks up and meets Steve’s eyes, his own fucking glittering when the lack of light should make that impossible but Steve thinks Eddie is kinda impossible so probably it fits.

“I like it,” he proclaims, as he reaches for another card to start the momentum back up, raises an eyebrow at Steve and waits for him to follow suit like he’s the expect, like Steve didn’t fucking just show him this game—

“You would,” Steve snorts and Eddie?

Eddie just beams bigger, and that catches in Steve’s pulse, nudges it to sing something that’s more than just not-dead; that’s more…

That feels more

___________________

It’s the more-feeling that breaks him, in the end.

“You called me big boy.”

Steve doesn’t really have control over his mouth, when it happens. Or else, like, he doesn’t think before the words tumble out, and the lie in the not-water and stare at the absence of the starts in the not-sky.

His heart’s jumped up to his throat, now.

Eddie’s quiet, for a while, even if time doesn’t mean anything here; Eddie’s quiet, and Steve’s heart wants to jump out of his fucking mouth but if it does than it’s got two destinations: it can’t drown in the not-water so that’s fucking useless, and then there’s Eddie, Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s chest and—

“I,” Eddie finally speaks, and his voice is rough, far away;“I, yeah.”

Steve doesn’t know what he was expecting. He wasn’t planning on saying anything so there weren’t any expectations built in.

“You looked at me,” Steve’s whispering, but it wavers, it moves with the force of his blood; “like you…” Steve licks his lips, swallows a whimper because what is he doing, what is he doing—

“Being almost-dead is really going to take the thunder out of your backlash on this, Harrington,” Eddie cuts into his panic and Steve’s head snaps over to look, to try and read Eddie’s expression: scared. Bracing for impact. Like Steve would, like Steve could ever—

“No, no, I,” Steve raises himself up and scoots over to Eddie, grabs his hands and presses them together in his own, never once looks away from Eddie’s eyes as they stretch wide.

“What did you mean?” because Steve’s started this, and Eddie’s anxious for it and…he needs Eddie to understand he’s not upset, he’s confused, his heart’s all swollen for it, he just, he—

“With the, with calling me that, and with leaning in like you did in the woods,” his breath’s shaking on the exhale: “with all the looks,” and he tries to leave it all in his eyes, on his face, open and clear for all that he doesn’t understand, but also for all that he…that he hopes.

Eventually, Eddie sighs, and squeezes his eyes shut tight, almost like a wince.

But he doesn’t pulls his hands away.

“You’re not stupid, Steve.”

Steve shakes his head, even if Eddie can’t see it.

“I’m very stupid.”

And Eddie’s eyes fly open, look wrathful, look offended on…Steve’ behalf, what the fuck?

And yeah, yeah, he’s opening his mouth now to fight him, to fight Steve about Steve and…no. No, that’s not the point.

“I’m stupid,” Steve says again, but quick so he can get it out; “about like,” he tries to find the right words and remembers Robin’s point on it once:

“About, you know, matters of the heart.”

Eddie’s features slacken, and his mouth drops open as he blinks at Steve before he eventually chokes out:

“Heart?”

But Steve can hear it. He can hear the confusion, like his own, but also just like his own:

He thinks he can hear the hope.

“You held that bottle to my throat and all I wanted was for you to lean closer,” he confesses, and it feels amazing, like he can breathe again, or see in color even though there’s so little color, here.

“And slit it?” Eddie croaks, incredulous, still a little slack-jawed and Steve laughs, because he can breathe, and—

“And kiss me, you dick.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, and his eyes somehow get bigger, and his chest’s heaving and Steve wants that not to be for fearing, he wants Eddie to be anything but scared, he wants Eddie to be hoping—

“Stevie,” Eddie barely breathes and…it’s not scared, or else, not like it could be. It’s hesitant. It’s…full, of something Steve thinks might be incredible.

“You call me sweetheart,” Steve leans in, pushes the point, leans more until he’s close enough where he can feel Eddie’s breath on his face; “here. Now.”

Eddie nods immediately, doesn’t try to hide from it.

“Yeah, I do,” he breathes, and watches Steve so careful, unblinking.

“What does it mean,” Steve pushes, angles his lips without even thinking, without making the choice but Eddie?

Eddie makes the choice, and he kisses Steve so fucking sure and sweet and still wild somehow and Steve never wants to not be here. Never wants to not have this mouth under his, never wants to not have Eddie’s hands in his own: he doesn’t wholly understand it, where it comes from or what all it means but…his heart’s fucking dancing, the joy’s almost sore for it’s size and when Steve breathes between them, when they break for half a second to breathe and stare and marvel and Eddie looks like he’s entranced, like he’s overjoyed, and the only other thing here is Steve?

Fuck. Fuck.

If this ends up being death, that’s okay. That’s okay, as long as there’s also this.

___________________

He’s on top of Eddie’s chest, curled so so close, when it starts to feel…different. In his body. Like something pulling him.

The dark is still absolute but it almost feels like they’re on the brink of something, like dawn could come.

Steve fucking hates it.

“I don’t want to die alone,” Eddie whispers against his head, kisses at his hair.

“I don’t want you to die,” Steve grits out, almost violent, because isn’t this how it started, wasn’t that what Eddie meant, that he didn’t want Steve here, too—but Steve won’t accept that.

He cannot fucking accept that.

“I don’t want you to die at all.”

Eddie drags the tip of his nose back and forth against Steve’s hair some more as he breathes, breathes, breathes—

“To die by your side,” Eddie murmurs low; “would be my privilege,” and Steve chokes on a whine, a sob—it’s too much. It’s too much, and he needs this man, he needs him so much, he think he fucking loves hi—

“Maybe it’s not dying,” Steve tries, looks out into the abyss and he can’t see what’s on the way but he feels it; they both feel it: “maybe we’ll,” and he grabs Eddie’s hand and brings it to his lips.

“Maybe we’ll wake up.”

Maybe. Maybe.

“Kiss me,” Eddie exhales and Steve pulls back, slides up Eddie’s chest and hovers over him, makes to claim his lips but then Eddie lifts a palm, pauses Steve as he presses it over his racing heart and blinks at him, makes the tears fall from his lashes:

“Kiss me again when we wake up.”

And Steve will, he will, but.

He’s gonna kiss Eddie now, too. He’s going to kiss Eddie always.

He thinks his heart’s going too fast to beat out words but that, in itself, has to mean something that isn’t…death.

So he pours that conviction, and all the hope he’s got left, into Eddie as he devours him, breathes into him like they can melt together, like if Steve’s air lifts Eddie’s lungs they’ll be one person, one living soul and whatever happens…

Whatever happens will take them both.

___________________

Eddie splutters, clutches his chest; his heart’s racing, it feels like his blood’s on fire because every beat fucking burns, and the tear of his shirt where it’s stuck to his skin—dried blood, fucking hell—all up his side is absolutely disgusting, Jesus fuck—

“Eddie!”

He turns and that, that’s Henderson, and he squints; that’s Henderson running toward him, less than a minute away at that pace and Eddie doesn’t know if he can sit up but he’ll try, he digs his fingers into the mud and makes to lift—

And then something crashes into him, pins him right back down.

Covers his hands. Presses.

And he can’t get a word out, can barely fucking breathe before his lips are covered, before he’s being kissed so fucking desperate and giddy and all these feelings being fed straight into him, his heart leaping up in his throat to steal a taste but it doesn’t need to, it doesn’t need to because he feels…he feels it all everywhere, and he looks up and he shakes, he laughs, he’s gonna fucking cry—

“You woke up,” Eddie whispers, marvels, thinks his whole face is going to split open with, with joy and Steve, Steve is here, and he’s smiling back, and he’s breathing and they’re, it’s—

There’s light here. Steve’s eyes are like molten copper, they flicker, they shine.

“Promised,” Steve murmurs close, his lips moving Eddie’s lips with each syllable and the taste is, is…sweet and soft and light and perfect and Eddie almost doesn’t ask because it feels so right, so unquestionable but also he wants, something fierce and unwavering, and he needs to be sure where the water’s real, and the ripples mean something when you shift the whole fucking world, when you feel this big you know it’ll move the earth breathe your feet, so he has to ask:

“That the only reason?”

He still feels the hope from wherever they were, though; he feels it still, here, and he believes in it more in the light, he thinks, and he looks at Steve, takes him in, sees his chest rising and his pulse at the neck: real. Real, and so beautiful, and so, so—

Steve leans and kisses him hard, almost painful but it’s divine, Eddie will bask in the sting of it for the rest of his fucking life if he’s allowed, and then—

Then Steve pulls back and pins him with his eyes, now, fierce and on fire and they steal Eddie’s breath with feeling, with intent as Steve grabs at his shoulders, pulls them flush together and growls against his ear, like a vow almost:

“Only reason?” Steve huffs, shakes his head. “Not even close,” and he drags his lips over Eddie’s skin, catches Eddie’s hair, weaves into Eddie’s heartbeat:

not-dead, not-dead, not-dead

in-love, in-love, in-love—

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #falling in love #angst with a happy ending #(also oddly fluffy?)#presumed dead #(but obviously NOT)#happy ending #the black void place with the water on the floor is LIMBO #and they maybe kinda fall for each other in the space between life and death because OF COURSE THEY DO #and these boys are maybe kinda stuck there #steddielovemonth #love is a fire that never goes out #stranger things

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heavenlyvision · 2 months

Text

Why are you sorry?

This is a second part to Truth or Dare with Kung Lao, read that part ˗ˏˋhereˎˊ˗

Word count: 12.8k

Pairing: Raiden x F!Reader

A/N: It is done! It's a bit longer than I had planned for it to be but not by much <3 hopefully you all enjoy :) if it's not quite comprehensive, it's because I am listening to Hozier's new ep while editing and I maybe was not paying as much attention as I should have been :3

Summary: Things in the house are tense when Raiden finds out about your night with Kung Lao but even more than that, you are confused on how you're feeling about both your roommates.

Warning: 18+ only, smut, praise kink, fingering, minor handjob, spit as lube, p in v sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, big dick raiden lol, no use of y/n !!

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Not much at all has changed since what happened between you and Kung Lao, he’s been more affectionate? You guess, or more openly touchy but he doesn’t cross any lines and you haven’t even kissed since that day. You’re a little bit confused on what you’re meant to do now, should you ask him what you mean to each other or are you reading into things too much? Was it just a one-time thing? But then why did he say to only sleep with him?

Being casual is not something you’ve ever done before and you aren’t even sure if that’s what you are doing. You’ve been too scared to ask because you don’t even know what you want from him… you’re just worried about your friendship. Things have been mostly the same though, as in, it’s not awkward, you’ve both just gone back to how things were.

It’s the weekend and you’re playing a game of cards, ‘bullshit’ to be precise, you wanted to play scrabble – naturally – but both Raiden and Kung Lao outright refused to play with you. It was mean, this is the only time they ever gang up on you, well this and your wellbeing. Whatever, you’re more upset about being denied a scrabble game, Kung Lao played one game with you after you deleted the shy strangers phone number and cancelled your date with him but he hasn’t agreed to a game since and you feel slighted.

Pushing your thoughts to the side you glare at Raiden; he’s glaring back at you over the top of his cards. Moving slowly, he places two on the pile in the middle, “Two… queens,” he raises a brow at you.

You can’t tell if he’s lying or not but you’re too scared to call him either way, considering you currently hold a hefty amount of the deck in your hands, sighing you place three cards down, “Three kings,” both Raiden and Kung Lao share a look but ultimately don’t call you on it.

Kung Lao’s smile twitches slightly, “Three aces,” he boldly claims, placing his last three cards onto the table.

You squint at him and then laugh slightly, “Bullshit!”

“Wha– how did you know?” He exclaims

Raiden shakes his head at his stupidity, lightly snorting at the scene.

You fully laugh at him now, “I have all four aces, dunce, pick up the damn deck!”

Kung Lao groans dramatically, “Ugh, this is no fair when you have… every card ever,” he complains, picking up the cards on the table.

“Use your brain some more and you could’ve ended the game,” you smile at him.

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “Raiden, carry on,” he huffs.

Raiden eyes his hand for a sec before placing two, “Two threes.”

The game continues around for a bit, mostly it’s just you and Kung Lao stopping Raiden from winning, he tries to bullshit but since both of you have a large chunk of the deck it’s proving to be a little difficult. This game is better played with a few more people. Both your hands start dwindling though and it’s all becoming muddled as the deck is split more and more. You’re losing track of what you’ve lied about at this point but you’ve somehow gotten yourself down to two cards and they’re a pair, they’re just not the pair you need right now.

Luckily for you, Kung Lao calls Raiden on his two fours, a risky move, considering the pile on the table has grown very large, “Bullshit.”

Raiden smiles at Kung Lao, “Have a look.”

Kung Lao is already groaning in annoyance as he flips the cards over to see, he was in fact, not bullshitting, “How are you good at like, every game we play, this sucks,” he grumbles to himself as he picks up the cards on the table.

It’s your turn now and you place both your cards down, “Two fives, I win,” you smile victoriously.

“Uh uh, not so fast, I call bullshit,” Kung Lao points at you.

You raise a brow at him, lips quirked up in a very self-satisfied way, “Check?” He squints at you and flips the cards, the cards that are in fact, a pair of fives. Kung Lao’s head falls to the table in defeat and Raiden starts laughing, hard. “Should’ve trusted me,” you shrug simply.

“This is crap,” Kung Lao laments, head still planted on the table.

You elbow his ribs, “Bullshit even?”

“You have too many trust issues, Kung Lao,” Raiden chastises him.

Kung Lao ignores him and continues wallowing in his shameful loss, “Just a few rounds ago… I was going to win…”

“…But you didn’t, because you suck,” you snicker at him.

He turns his head to the side to look at you, “That is just plain mean.”

The pair of you look at each other for a bit, apparently in a suspicious way because it prompts Raiden to state, “Something has happened between you two, something has changed.”

“What?” You question, taken aback.

Kung Lao denies, “Nothing has changed.”

“That wasn’t a question, I was stating. Something has changed, what was it?” Raiden scrutinises the both of you, looking back and forth between you.

You feel shy under his eyes and look away, you’d prefer he didn’t know that you slept with Kung Lao, you aren’t sure why but it hurts. You don’t regret sleeping with Kung Lao but you also feel like… you don’t want Raiden to know about it.

Kung Lao doesn’t shy away from Raiden, in fact, he looks proud of whatever he may or may not have done.

Raiden takes a moment to assess you both closely and then concludes, “You slept together.”

You go to deny, “No!”

“Yes,” Kung Lao confirms, and you pinch his side, “Ow, what was that for, he already figured it out.”

Raiden pinches the bridge of his nose, “When… when was it?”

“Couple weeks ago,” Kung Lao shrugs easily, no guilt at all, or if there is, he’s hiding it well.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Raiden asks, “Is it going to happen again?”

You answer, “I… don’t know–”

“–Probably,” is Kung Lao’s answer.

You shoot him a look from the corner of your eye and he looks blasé, not really understanding why you’re so uncomfortable or guilt ridden.

Kung Lao leans back in his chair and stretches, “Is it such a big deal?”

“I cannot say I am overjoyed at the news,” Raiden closes his eyes, thinking for a moment.

“Raiden… we’re sorry,” you try apologising.

“Speak for yourself, I am sorry for nothing, best lay of my life,” Kung Lao interjects.

Smacking him you say, “Ew, don’t be crass.”

Kung Lao adds smugly, “You didn’t seem to mind when–”

“–I am going to my room,” Raiden sighs, moving away from the table and heading back to his bedroom.

You feel… so bad for Raiden, sighing you look at Kung Lao, “What the hell? Can’t you see he’s obviously upset at us?”

“Yeah and I don’t get why, it was just sex,” he shrugs back.

“Just sex?” you clarify.

His brows pull together inquisitively, “…Really good sex?”

“You’re a dick,” you shake your head solemnly, angrily packing the cards away before heading back to your room too.

Kung Lao sits at the table, confused as to what the hell just happened.

𝜗𝜚

When you wake up in the morning, you can hear Kung Lao and Raiden thumping around in the kitchen. Their voices are muffled but you can tell they are not happy with each other, their voices are raised but hushed, the walls between your room and the kitchen also dilute the sound. Getting out of bed, you walk towards them, catching the tail end of their argument.

Kung Lao groans, “Ugh, Raiden! It was just sex, why are you so annoyed at us?”

Hearing him say that again, makes your heart pang and your footsteps slow, taking your time in getting to the kitchen.

Raiden is silent for a moment, assumedly glaring at him, “Would you be so nonchalant if she and I had slept together?”

Kung Lao stands there idly, his expression showing that, no, he would not be so relaxed about it.

“Exactly,” Raiden sighs, turning back to the sink, scrubbing at the dishes.

Something clicks for Kung Lao in that moment though and he frowns as he has his silent realisation about Raiden, watching him impatiently and trying to think of something to say.

Moving closer to the kitchen, you lean against the archway and ask, “Why are you both arguing so early in the morning?”

“It is nothing, do not worry about it,” Raiden dismisses, his focus on the dish he’s cleaning.

Kung Lao shakes his head before gesturing to you, “No, well let’s see, would you be upset if you were in his position?”

“Would I be upset if you two slept together?” You snicker at him.

He frowns and looks at you straight on, “Come on, you know what I meant.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you wave a hand at him and walk into the kitchen, sitting on one of the counters, “But yeah, I probably might be, we’re not just all friends, we’re also roommates, it makes the situation a bit uncomfortable, no?” sighing, you roll your neck and add, “I told you at the time… it might end up being a bad idea.”

Kung Lao also sighs, knowing you’re right, he turns back to Raiden, “I do not know what you want us to do to make this better.”

Raiden ignores him, seemingly done with talking.

You go to lighten the mood, offering, “Well… I could always sleep with Raiden and make it even.”

“What? No! That is not what I–” Kung Lao’s words are frantic.

Raiden turns to face the pair of you, “–Well, why not? She slept with you and I thought it was ‘just sex’,” he throws Kung Lao’s words back in his face and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bring you a little sense of joy.

It’s silent for a moment, both of you looking at Kung Lao, who is scratching at the back of his head and thinking really hard, he hesitates momentarily, “I guess… she can sleep with whoever she wants…”

It hurts again, hearing that, especially since those weren’t his sentiments those few weeks ago but now you’re wondering if that’s just something he said and didn’t actually mean. Did he mean any of it? Or was he just really horny? Raiden eyes you carefully, catching something that you thought you were hiding well. You shy away from his gaze, how he always manages to read your feelings gets annoying when you’re specifically trying to hide something that you can’t even identify yourself.

Raiden wipes his hands off on a towel, “I am… not annoyed with you both…” Kung Lao and you give him a look and he breathes out an annoyed but amused sound, “Alright, I cannot say I am overjoyed but I am not… angry, you can do whatever you want.”

It’s fairly obvious that Raiden is still… upset but you’re also inclined to believe him, you think he’s trying fairly hard to not be upset about Kung Lao and you sleeping together. At least, you think he’s trying to not be angry at you both but you can tell he’s feeling some type of way about what happened.

It’s silent again in the kitchen as Raiden puts the clean dishes away, only the clanking of porcelain remains. The three of you not really sure what to say, the atmosphere tense, this is something you were worried about happening but you have no idea what to say to make this situation better and your heart continues to ache because of it.

Breaking the quiet, you suddenly ask, “Do you mean it, Kung Lao? I can sleep with whoever I want?”

Raiden stands stock still, feeling like he’s intruding in on a conversation he should not be privy to.

Kung Lao looks at you, his eyes slightly widened in shock, put on the spot suddenly, “I mean, yeah… we are not… exclusive and you have your own autonomy, do as you like.”

“Right,” you force yourself to sound agreeable, not wanting to show your souring mood, “I am going back to bed, you two need to start getting along again or I am going to do something drastic,” you point at both of them, your tone full of mirth, back to teasing them.

Before they can say anymore to you, you’re heading back to your room and crawling into bed. You don’t sleep, even though you try, you just lay there for a bit, numb. This awkwardness, this uncomfortableness and the weird feelings, is exactly why you said sleeping together was a bad idea. You wish you’d had more will power to stick to your guns but you let your judgement be clouded by emotions and feelings you aren’t even completely able to explain.

The time ticks by while you lay flat on your back in bed, staring up at the ceiling, motionless. You can hear the guys stomping around the house, their footsteps tracking back and forth as they go about their days, you know you’ll have to get up soon and be productive but you don’t know if you really feel like it. Everything feels like effort right now and you don’t have a good reason as to why.

Soft taps on your door force you to sit up, calling out as you do, “What?”

“Are you going to come out of your room at all today?” It’s Raiden’s voice, he’s clearly concerned but it also feels like you’re being scolded by a parent rather than being checked in on by a worried friend.

“No.”

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking again, “…Kung Lao has gone out… if that changes your answer at all.” You grunt out at him in acknowledgement and he asks, “Do you… want to hang out?”

You consider him for a moment before smiling to yourself, “Can I braid your hair?” you’ve asked him multiple times before and he always says no, you’re hoping he acquiesces this time.

He asks though the door, “Is anything else going to make you leave your room?”

“No.”

“Not even scrabble?” He challenges.

You feel yourself perk up a bit at that but ultimately decide, “No, not even scrabble.”

A soft sigh leaves him as he gives in, “Fine.”

You giggle as you pull yourself out of bed quickly and race over to the door, pulling it open to reveal Raiden in front of you, already looking regretful at agreeing to this, “Amazing, let me get my stuff and I’ll be right out.”

He hums at you, “Take your time,” he says as he walks away to the living area.

It takes you no time at all to collect your brush and hair ties, not wanting to give him the chance to change his mind. Your footsteps are rushed as you shuffle out of your room and into the lounge with Raiden, he’s sat on the couch waiting patiently for you, half wishing you changed your mind and want to play scrabble instead. When he sees the stupid, giddy smile on your face though, he finds himself not really minding that he’s agreed to this.

“Okay, sit on the floor,” you direct, moving to sit on the couch yourself.

He supresses his smile at your happiness and moves to the floor, “How long are you going to drag this out for?”

“Only until you look really pretty,” you snicker.

You spread your legs, him sat between them on the floor, his frame is larger than you have ever taken notice of. It’s hard to ignore Kung Lao’s stature, he’s frequently shirtless and showing off… but Raiden is just as built and you find yourself forgetting that a lot. You’re careful as you undo his hair, not wanting to pull too harshly and hurt him.

His hands come up to yours, placing them over top and stopping your movements, “You could pull harder, I will not break,” he half laughs, “But I got it.” He tugs his hair free of the bun.

Your skin heats slightly as his touch feels like it lingers on your skin, even as he’s moved them back to his lap, he was so gentle, his hands so large. Shaking your head slightly, you bring your attention back to the task at hand, you run your hands through his hair a bit, it’s soft, softer than you were expecting.

“You have soft hair,” you mention mindlessly.

Raiden scoffs, “Were you expecting otherwise?”

You grab the brush and start gently untangling his hair, “A little… yes.”

He mumbles out, “Rude.”

Your tone is full of mirth, “Hey! You’re the farm boy, what else was I supposed to expect?”

“I am clean! Thank you very much,” he’s pretending to be offended.

“Hmmm, I am not convinced,” you prod further.

He drops his head back onto the couch between your legs, looking up at you, “I can leave? If I am so unclean?”

“No, I am sure you’re so clean, the cleanest even,” you smile innocently.

He smiles back at you but rolls his eyes at the same time and then raises his head again, letting you continue to brush it.

“Where has Kung Lao gone?” You ask him.

He hums at you, “It is his turn to run errands… but he will probably get distracted, knowing him.”

Your laugh is airy as you recount, “It’s sweet though, he plays with the kids, he can’t help but get roped into their games.”

“It is nice until you actually need whatever it is he went out for,” he grumbles slightly.

You continue brushing his hair, “Remember when he didn’t come home until sundown?”

Raiden’s face scrunches at the memory, “Yes… I remember, all I wanted was tea and had to wait hours for it.”

“What about the time you had to go looking for him,” you remind.

He scoffs, “It was getting so late, for all I knew he could have fallen in a hole and gotten stuck.”

You laugh a lot at that, Kung Lao has a bad habit of getting really involved in whatever game the kids are playing, sometimes he even lets them win… if he’s feeling benevolent, that is. There are a lot of memories that both you and Raiden share of having to wait on him longer than expected because he was trying to win a game of hide and seek or something similar. It can get annoying but for the most part, it’s just endearing.

Mindlessly, you continue to untangle Raiden’s hair, though it’s mostly untangled now, it wasn’t even that bad to begin with, you’re just caught up in thinking of all the times Kung Lao did something kind or stupid, stuff that makes you laugh at how dumb he’s being.

“Are you okay?” Raiden asks suddenly.

You drop the brush onto the couch, coming back to yourself, “I’m fine.”

The scepticism in his tone is hard to miss, “And that is why you spent all morning in bed… because you are fine?”

“…Yes?”

His hand wraps around your ankle, the only part of you he can reach without moving too much, “You do not have to talk about it if you do not want to… but I can tell something is bothering you.”

You rub at your eyes, thinking, “It’s not and I am fine, I am just… confused.”

He pushes, “About?”

“Kung Lao has just… said some conflicting things… whatever, it doesn’t matter,” your hands drop back to your lap.

Raiden thinks for a moment before asking you a question you don’t have a concrete answer to, “Do you want to be with him?”

You don’t know what you want from him, so you answer honestly, “I don’t… I don’t know, like I said, I’m confused.” You fiddle with your fingers, “I am sorry though… I mean, I don’t regret sleeping with him but I am sorry… for upsetting you.”

“I am not upset at you, and you have nothing to apologise for,” he’s taken aback by your apology to him, not expecting it.

“Good.” You smile to yourself, “I’m gonna start braiding your hair now then.”

He slumps a bit, “Go for it.”

Moving your hands, your fingers delicately brush his hair away from his forehead, pulling it back, you’re careful as you collect the hairs by his temples. Grabbing three strands, you start the braid, collecting more as you go. Raiden holds still for you, letting you quietly do your thing. Aside from your small humming the house is silent, he doesn’t mind it though, he’s not even sure you’re aware that you’re doing it. He doesn’t want to bring your attention to it though, he doesn’t want you to stop.

It tickles him when your hands gently brush against his neck, gathering stray hairs. You’re being so gentle with him, soft brushes of your fingers against his skin, light tugs of his hair when it’s uncooperative, it’s overwhelming him. Your legs either side of his body close in on his sides, he’d started moving unconsciously and you’re attempting to keep him still.

“Hold still, please,” you murmur, still focusing on his hair, wanting it to look nice. He involuntarily moves again and it causes you to tug at his hair, it jolts him and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from whimpering aloud, “Shit, sorry, Rai,” you apologise to him guiltily.

“No, that was my fault,” he’s quick to reply, not wanting you to feel bad.

He’s feeling uncomfortable, particularly in the lower region, your touch and proximity is setting him on edge and he can’t help the way he grows pitifully hard at just your hands in his hair and legs hugging his sides. You don’t notice anything though, still braiding his hair, humming to yourself again. Somehow, even the sound of your soft, singsong tone, has his erection throbbing in his pants. This is part of the reason why he always said no to you doing his hair, he doesn’t trust his reactions to you.

The pressure of your legs holding him still is filling his head with images that are more… graphic in nature, the context completely shifting in his mind. Instead, imagining your legs hugging his waist as he–

You lean down beside him and speak next to his ear, “I am done!”

His train of thought is cut short but the effects of it remain, he’s flush in the face and fully erect. Feeling beyond embarrassed right now and wanting to leave the room without it being suspicious, he’s actively thinking of ways to remove himself from this situation.

“Great… thanks, I am sure it looks great,” he rushes out quickly, trying to appear normal but failing miserably.

You shuffle to the side more, trying to see his face as you ask, “Are you okay, Rai?”

He turns to look at you, his skin heating at how close you are, “I am.”

Your brows pull together, “Are you sure? You look a little flush… do you feel sick?”

He feels like there’s a lump in his throat, “I feel fine, honest.”

You hum at him in thought before leaning into him and pressing your forehead to his, your hand coming up to rest your knuckles against his cheek, “You feel a little warm.”

Raiden feels like he may pass out, any chance he had of redirecting his thoughts and calming down are gone. You’re so close and you smell so nice and your hand is so soft against his skin and your lips are right there.

As you pull back slightly, he takes a shaky breath, your hand comes away slowly, as if to give him time to stop you. You both look back at each other silently for what feels like too long but is only probably a few seconds, ultimately you’re interrupted by Kung Lao walking through the front door and into the house.

“…Hey guys,” Kung Lao greets, a little confused by the scene in front of him.

You pull away from Raiden completely and sit back on the couch, your legs coming away from his sides as you pull them up onto the cushions, “Hey,” your tone comes across as slightly dismissive but you smile politely at him.

Raiden clears his throat, “What took you so long?”

“Before we discuss that, we have to talk about your hair,” he replies, voice full of mirth.

“No! Don’t mock him! I did that for him and I think it looks very nice,” the last thing you want is for Raiden to get mocked so severely by Kung Lao that he doesn’t let you do his hair ever again.

Kung Lao raises his occupied hands in defence, “Sorry, sorry! I love it so much, it does look… very nice,” he’s holding back a laugh, you can tell by the way his face is scrunching up and his mouth twitches.

“You’re next,” you squint, pointing a finger at him, feeling slighted on Raiden’s behalf.

Raiden interrupts before Kung Lao can attest, “I do not think he deserves such an honour!”

“You know what, you’re right, my hair braiding skills are too good for him,” you raise your head up and away from Kung Lao, playing up your offence.

Kung Lao squints at Raiden who looks back at him with an incredibly smug look on his face, clearly proud of keeping this act between the two of you. Happy that he’s convinced you to deprive Kung Lao of an intimate moment like the one you had just shared. Maybe he’s being petty but also… maybe he doesn’t care.

You glance back at them and laugh at their battle, unaware of the very real and very tense underlying emotions between them, “Anyways, what took you so long? Fall in a hole?”

Kung Lao looks back to you and his gaze softens but still contains a teasing edge, “No… I just got really involved in a game.”

Raiden scoffs and you hum a small laugh, “Yeah, we had assumed as much, at least you came back without us having to come and get you.”

Kung Lao groans and rolls his neck before walking into the kitchen, calling back, “Come on, you have only had to come and get me a handful of times.”

Raiden sighs, “Two handfuls, maybe.”

You’re thoroughly amused and you giggle softly but take the lull in the conversation as an opportunity to leave the room. Choosing to hide yourself back in your room before either of them can question you on what you’re doing or where you’re going. It felt normal, the conversation between the three of you, for the most part anyways but you still can’t help but be upset at Kung Lao and that frustrates you more because you don’t feel like you have a good reason to be upset with him. You’re friends, not lovers, you don’t even know if… you don’t even know if you like him like that.

The only thing you wish had changed… was that he didn’t say the things he did only to contradict himself later. If he hadn’t done that, you think… maybe, you wouldn’t be this upset… or at least not this confused.

𝜗𝜚

It’s unintentional but you ended up drifting to sleep too early in the evening and now you’re awake at some ungodly hour in the morning, it’s too dark in your room to read the clock on your wall. All you know, is that it has to be late and you’ve just had the kind of nap that takes you a few seconds to readjust to real life after waking up. You’re confused momentarily on where you even are before settling and then you’re just really thirsty.

Peeling yourself off the mattress, you stumble your way through the dark house and head towards the kitchen, your eyes slowly adjusting to the dark as you go. You knock your knee on the corner of a wall and hiss slightly, stopping to silently lament your clumsiness, how long have you lived here for? You’d think you could navigate the house in the dark without hurting yourself.

Sighing and in a slightly worse mood than before, you hobble the rest of your way into the kitchen. As you enter the room, you jump at the shadowy figure already lurking in the dark, the surprise making you gasp and clasp a hand over your beating heart.

When the initial shock wears off, you can immediately tell who it is, “Rai, geez, give a girl some warning.”

He mumble at you, voice thick with sleep, “Sorry, thought you saw me.”

The deepness of his voice pricks at your skin in a… not unpleasant way, ignoring it you ask, “Does that mean… you heard me knock into the wall?”

He tries to hide it but you can hear the quiet laugh he lets out as he admits, “Yes.”

“…Great,” you sulk.

“Just wake up?” He asks, changing the topic.

“I didn’t even realise I’d fallen asleep,” you sigh, moving for the cups, “Why are you up?”

He rests against the bench, “Having trouble staying asleep, was in here for some water.”

“Mmm yeah, I need some too, I woke up and felt like I’d been eating sand in my sleep or something,” you grumble, filling a glass with water.

He laughs as he watches you chug the whole glass before refilling it, “You were not kidding.”

“I never kid,” you say seriously, moving to lean against the bench next to him.

“That is the biggest lie I have heard to date,” he says deadpan.

You shrug, smirking into the lip of your cup, “You are entitled to your incorrect opinion.”

“Well, thank you so much for allowing me at least that much,” he breathes out a small laugh.

“You are most welcome,” you tease, lightly bumping his shoulder with yours.

It goes quiet after that, neither of you having much to say right now, slowly, you finish your second glass of water and place the cup in the sink. Continuing to linger in the kitchen, not wanting to leave but not having a reason to stay.

When you can’t find a good enough reason to stay any longer, you push off the counter, “Good night, Rai,” you pat his shoulder before walking back to your room.

You’re careful not to knock yourself against another wall on your way back and successfully make it to your room injury free. Just as you go to close your door, Raiden presses a hand on it and opens it again, letting himself into your room.

Before you can ask him what he’s doing he instead asks you, “Why are you sorry?”

You don’t know what he means, “What?”

He barely lets you get the word out before he’s asking again with more words, “Earlier today, you said you do not regret sleeping with Kung Lao but you are sorry to me… why are you sorry?”

You stammer, not really sure how to answer because you aren’t even really sure of the reason yourself. It doesn’t help that he’s walked closer to you, it’s making you feel like he’s in your space, he’s moved so close to you, looking at you so intently, waiting to see what you have to say.

When you can’t manage to produce anything, he sighs softly but puts his hands on either side of your face, his thumbs gently stroking the highest parts of your cheekbones. He seems like he’s considering something, weighing the pros and cons of his next actions. After a few moments of consideration and holding you like this, he pulls you to him and kisses you.

Initially, you’re taken by surprise but when you register his soft lips on yours, your hands grasp his shirt and you kiss him back. It’s electric, he kisses you in a gentle but consuming manner, like he’s being careful but reckless all at the same time. His lips are insistent but hesitant at the same time, knowing what he wants to take but worried about taking it. He’s making you lightheaded either way, a small sound escapes you when he kisses you a bit more forcefully.

He stops the kiss before it progresses any further, pulling his face away from yours but still holding you. You’re lost at his sudden absence, you were enjoying the kiss, you… don’t want to stop kissing him.

You’re slightly out of breath when you ask, “Why did you do that?”

“I wanted to see,” is all he says, scanning your face.

You frown up at him, “See what?”

His gaze lingers on your lips, “If you would kiss me back.”

You’re shocked by his answer and also still dazed from his kiss, what the hell does he mean ‘he wanted to see’?. You’re still frowning up at him and he presses his thumb into the crease between your brows encouraging you to relax. He smiles at you, it’s kind and also somehow, a bit smug, a quiet kind of smugness that he has shown only a handful of times in the past.

You pout, “That’s it?”

He seems a little nervous now, “Why? Do… do you want me to kiss you again?”

“No– I mean, I wouldn’t mind– that’s not what I was asking!” He smiles softly at the way you fumble and you have to gather yourself before asking clearly, “I mean… Is that the only reason you kissed me? To see if I would kiss you back?”

He removes his hands from you completely, “No.”

“No?”

He nods, “No.”

You place your hands on your hips, “Are you going to give me any more than that?”

He offers, “I will give you more… if you can tell me why you kissed me back.”

You’re annoyed at how well he reads you, especially right now because you don’t have an answer. You kissed him back because you wanted to…

He smiles at you wistfully, “When you have worked out your answer, find me and I will have an answer to your question.” He pats your shoulder and then leaves your room.

What the hell just happened? You don’t even know how to react, he just… what are you… why was this so attractive? Collapsing into bed, all you can do is think about how much you enjoyed kissing Raiden and what that means for you. Going back to sleep seems like an impossible task now.

𝜗𝜚

In the morning, when it’s a more appropriate hour to be awake, you spend your time avoiding both of the guys. It’s a little difficult but you think to yourself, you only have to do this until your afternoon shift at the tea house and then you’ll be at work and it’ll be so much easier to avoid them.

You time your exits from your room carefully all morning, to dodge possible run ins with them. It feels silly but you crack open the door and peek out to see where they are adjacent to you, straining your ears, listening for them when you can’t see them. It’s all a bit childish but you don’t want to talk to Kung Lao because you’re still feeling upset over how he’s been acting after your night together and you don’t want to talk to Raiden after last night, you will talk to him though… when you have that answer.

Thankfully, you make it the whole morning without seeing either of them on your trips to and from your room. They also don’t come looking for you and leave you alone, probably assuming you’re sleeping in. The only time you see them both is in passing as you leave the house.

“I’ll be back later this afternoon, bye!” You call out as you rush out the front door, not stopping to give them the chance to reply properly.

You feel just the slightest bit bad but also not really, you’re allowed time to collect yourself and your thoughts, it’s not your fault they’re the cause of your confusion. On your walk to work, you consider what it all means, how you’ve been feeling, why Kung Lao’s blasé attitude upset you, why you liked kissing Raiden back and there’s only really one, glaringly obvious answer to both of those situations. How annoying, you cannot have this realisation right now, you have work.

Ignoring the answers you had been searching for, you get to work and waste no time in distracting yourself. It’s ironic really, you’d been trying so hard to think and have this realisation and now you’re pissed at yourself for figuring it out now and trying to ignore it. You don’t even have time to process how this makes you feel, well… you do and you could, you’re just choosing not to.

Focusing all you attention on your job kind of works as a replacement for thinking, you’re forced to put all your energy into other things but your thoughts tug at the back of your head and you know you’re going to have to confront this if you want it to stop. Just… not right now.

The shift itself is actually pretty good, there aren’t many people here today and the people that are here and that you interact with are incredibly kind. Some regulars come in and you get roped into polite chatter with them but you don’t mind, it’s welcome today.

It’s getting to be towards the end of your shift and though you’re happy to be almost finished with work, you also feel nervous about going home. Those nerves aren’t eased when you see both Raiden and Kung Lao walk into your place of work together. They do leave you alone to finish your shift, though Raiden stands by the exit, waiting for you to be done for the day. You don’t know where Kung Lao is, you’ve lost sight of him. Disregarding their presence, you tidy up and do some other things for Madam Bo before realising your shift is over and you’ve also managed to stay back a little by helping out with things that really weren’t urgent.

Feeling bad for making them wait, you head over to where you saw Raiden, still unsure on where Kung Lao has gone, “If you were waiting for me… I’m sorry, I was just helping out with some stuff.”

Raiden straightens up when he sees you, “I was but it is fine, I would have waited longer… if you needed extra time.”

“No, no I’m good to leave now,” you smile at him.

He smiles back but nods down at you, “Are you sure?”

You look down at yourself and realise you had kept an apron on, sheepishly, you rub the back of your neck and laugh, “Right… sorry, I will be right back.”

Raiden laughs lightly at your embarrassment as you jog away to the back area of the tea house. Quickly, you tug off the apron and put it away, taking a second to calm down and try to look like less of a mess and then you walk back out to where Raiden is still standing and still waiting for you.

“All better?” You ask, spinning around in a circle for him.

He confirms for you, “All better.”

You look around the tea house, trying to spot Kung Lao, “I thought I saw you come in with Kung Lao earlier…”

“Ah, so you did see us,” he jabs at you for avoiding them, seemingly, you are not as slick as you like to pretend you are, “He… uh… he has a date? Kind of? He’s meeting someone here… now.”

That makes you stop, you try not to but you can’t help but feel dejected, “Oh.”

“Hey…” Raiden reaches his hand up and places it on your shoulder, “I do not think he actually wanted to go… it was set up a bit ago by one of the ladies who is friends with Madam Bo… he is doing it more of a favour to her.”

Shaking your head, you say, “I don’t mind, he can do as he likes, or who he likes, for that matter…” trailing off you add, “He always does…”

You say that but you still feel hurt, he made you get rid of that guys number after you slept with him but he’s going on a date after saying he’d never want anyone else… Whatever, you’re ignoring this… this whole thought process has been added to the huge ignore pile you have created in your brain.

Raiden squeezes your shoulder and recaptures your attention, “You ready to head home?”

“Beyond ready,” your smile is tired when you look at him and he pats your shoulder, the pair of you turning to walk out of the tea house together.

The walk back starts off quiet, a peaceful and unhurried pace is shared between you, he breaks it though, asking, “Are we okay? I… did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable last night–”

“–I have an answer,” you look down to your feet, feeling his eyes on you, your steps slow slightly, “I wanted to.”

He stops completely, “You wanted to?”

You also stop but you can’t look at him, feeling embarrassed and instead choosing to look off in the distance where the house is waiting, “…I kissed you back… because I wanted to kiss you.”

“…Then conversely, I kissed you because I wanted to,” he sounds nervous as well but he’s hiding it better than you. You still won’t look at him and he sighs from beside you, “Because I like you.”

It feels like cold water has been dumped on you and you look to him with a shocked expression on your face, “I– I can’t, I don’t–” taking a deep breath you try to verbalise your response better, “I think… I– I am confused, Rai.”

He smiles softly at you, “I know,” he reaches out to your arm and touches along it before taking your hand in his, “I will wait… until you figure it out.”

You look to him and your eyes feel wet, it’s like… he already knows how you’re feeling, he’s steps ahead of you and just waiting patiently for you to catch up to him, “I’m not asking you to do that.”

“No… but I will,” he squeezes your hand and starts walking again, leading you back home.

You follow with him silently, not having much else to say, you think for now, everything that needs to be said and that you can manage to say has been. If he’s willing to wait just a little longer, until you can sort yourself out, until things can start making sense, that would make you ridiculously happy. He’s so… kind to you… and he always has been, you’re being overwhelmed by feelings for him.

When you’re back in the house, he lets you through first but as soon as he closes the door, you turn around and face him, stopping him from moving into the house any further, “I would like… I would like it if you would kiss me again… please?”

His eyes grow wider, surprised by your sudden question, “Right now?”

You’re feeling foolish now, “Only if you want to… you don’t have to.”

“I want to… I always want to,” he murmurs, moving closer to you, one of his hands reaching up to your face, “Are you sure?”

It feels like you soften for him all at once, “Yes.”

Leaning down, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back enough to ask, “Is this alright?”

“No. I want more,” you mumble, looping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself to him, kissing him firmly.

His hands move to your hips, holding you close, his mouth moving against yours enthusiastically. He grips the fat of your hips harshly and pushes you back towards the wall, crowding you in, you gasp when you make contact with it. He takes the chance to deepen the kiss, his lips are insistent, eager, it’s making you dizzy. He moves his leg between yours, pinning you to the wall, the movement against your core shocks you and you let a small noise slip from the back of your throat.

Raiden pulls back at the sound, his forehead falls to your shoulder, breathlessly he apologises, “Sorry… I– I am getting worked up… I can stop–”

“–No… that’s not… I don’t want you to stop,” your voice feels small, you feel shy but you don’t want him to stop… you want him to go further, you want him worked up. Moving your lips to his ear, you say softly, “I want you.”

A shiver runs down his spine and you think if your hearing was slightly better you would have caught the small whine he made at the sound of your voice. He doesn’t move though, holding completely still, trying to reboot. Taking initiative, you grab one of his hands off your hips and lead him down the hall to his bedroom. He dutifully follows behind you, letting you take him wherever you want, he thinks he’d follow you into hell like this.

Once you’re in his room, you turn around to face him, you got him in here but now you’re feeling unsure, your confidence short lived, “Rai, I’m not good at… this.”

He’s a little dazed as he looks down at you, gaze busy watching you, “I think you were doing fine,” he hums. You go to complain to him, bothered by his response but he’s reaching out to you, grabbing at your waist, his lips close to yours, “You still want me?” He checks.

Breathlessly, you answer, “Yes.”

He smiles at you before leaning in and kissing you again, this time letting himself be unrestrained, his tongue in your mouth immediately. His hands roam more freely, groping at you. Your arms loop around him again, pulling yourself to him, you moan into the kiss and it drives him crazy.

He walks you back towards his bed and you let him but as you reach the edge of the frame, you part from him, you have something to say but you’re huffing, trying to catch your breath. His hand holds your face and his thumb wipes your bottom lip, cleaning you of the messy and rushed kiss you shared.

His eyes linger on your lips before asking, “Is something wrong?”

You feel like an idiot as you awkwardly get out, “No… I– I just… wanted… you to sit… first? maybe?...”

He looks confused for a moment before clarifying, “You want to sit on my lap?”

It’s said in a way where he’s only asking to be sure but it makes your skin feel hot and now you’re embarrassed, “…Only if you’re okay with it.”

He smirks at you in a way you’ve not seen before and it makes your heart skip a beat, “You are welcome to sit anywhere you like.”

You make a shocked expression at him, not expecting him to say something so suggestive. He kisses you again, not removing the stupefied look on your face, only changing the reason for it and then he removes himself from you to sit on his bed, waiting for you, he even pats his lap lightly with a small and welcoming smile on his face.

It feels silly as you crawl over to him, especially since he watches you so closely, he’s always watching you closely and it makes you lightheaded. You sit in his lap and his hands stroke your thighs, up your sides, caressing your body tenderly.

He goes to lean into you but you stop him, “Wait–” you crawl off him and he sighs in disappointment but watches to see what you’re doing. You shuffle out of your pants before crawling back and sitting on him again, he groans when your covered pussy makes contact with his cock, “Sorry… I thought this would save time.”

He intakes a deep breath, “I think you may kill me,” he mutters, his hand drawing towards your cunt, thumb swiping over the front of your underwear.

His cock is hard underneath you and he feels… “Rai?”

He hums at you in response, he’s distracted, his fingers pulling at your panties without actually moving them, waiting for your okay. When he realises you’re waiting for his full attention, he moves his hands to your inner thighs and rubs them, fingers digging in a tiny bit, it has you wiggling down into him, the pressure flipping your tummy.

He looks into your eyes, “Yes?”

You falter a bit, “Are… are you… fully hard?...”

“Pretty much… yeah,” his brows crease, confused at your question, “…Why?”

“You just…” your hands grip onto his shoulders and you drag your clothed cunt along the length of his cock, he chokes and grips you harder, shocked. You bite your lip to supress your sounds, you’re just trying to see something. When you stop grinding into him, he lets out a sad sound, his hands pulling at you, wanting you to keep going, “Rai, you’re huge.”

“What?” He looks genuinely confused, “I am not, I am average.”

You shake your head at him, “Rai, you might not…” You frown and look away, feeling flustered.

He understands what you’re worried about though, “Oh, I will,” he assures. The way he says it makes your heart skip a beat, he’s so certain, you’re so… not. “Can I?” He asks, nodding towards your panties.

“You have to take something off first,” he cannot see your pussy while also still being fully clothed.

He easily takes off his shirt and chucks it down onto the floor, “Now?”

You nod at him and he eagerly pulls your panties to the side, his index and middle finger slide through your wet folds and he grumbles lowly to himself at how slick you are. You grip his shoulders for purchase, needing the stability. He plays with your cunt, fingers making a mess of you, gently touching your clit every now and again just to see the way you jolt and get an increasingly more desperate look in your eyes.

You gasp out to him, “Rai… you’re being cruel.”

He smiles to himself, “Sorry,” he replies, although, he doesn’t really seem all that sorry.

Thankfully, he does actually move his finger towards your entrance, his middle finger slowly pushes forwards, careful not to hurt you. Your pussy swallows the digit and he moans at the way you grip him. Your thighs shake and little noises you aren’t quite aware of slip past your bitten lips.

Raiden has to control himself, wanting to finger fuck you until you’re blind but not wanting to hurt you or go too fast. He focuses on opening you up on his one finger, cock twitching in his pants at how you make little whimpered sounds for him.

Your eyes are low and wet, looking to him and asking, “More, please.”

You look dazed, eyes sparkling with how malleable he’s making you. He might melt into a puddle for you right here, “Mmm, you look really pretty,” he comments. The compliment goes to your core and your cunt throbs on his finger, “Oh… you like being told how pretty you are?”

“Rai don’t,” he’s embarrassing you.

“Why not? Do you not want to hear how beautiful you are to me while I stuff my fingers inside you?” He singsongs, another finger moving to join the one already inside you.

You go to speak but he fucks them up into you and crooks them, rubbing them against your inner wall just right and the only thing that comes out it an incredibly pitiful whine. A sound that Raiden delights in, if his smile and bright eyes are anything to by.

“Make cute noises, too,” he utters to you, his other hand leaving your waist and holding the side of your neck, “Wonder how you will sound when you cum, though I think I know…” you look at him with wide eyes and he looks back to you, his eye contact intense, “You seem to forget that you have roommates.”

You try to look away from him but he moves his hand up to your cheek, forcing you to look at him. How are you meant to reply to that? You’re feeling really embarrassed and exposed, especially since his fingers are knuckle deep inside your cunt, reaching places you can’t touch when you’re doing this by yourself.

“I can’t– I don’t– If I’m so loud… why do you –ngh– never say anything?” It’s a struggle to get the question out, you’re trying to refrain yourself from grinding down into his fingers.

His smile is saccharine as he replies, “If I did that… you would probably stop.”

You gasp at him and he begins thrusting his fingers into you again, not caring to hear your protests to his answer. The sounds in the room are embarrassing to say the least, your skin feels hot and you can’t tell if that’s because of him or your humiliation at how wet you are. His eyes flick between your pussy and your face, lingering on your face for a few moments and pulling your lip down with his thumb before focusing his attention back on where his fingers are devastating you.

“Could you take another?” He asks gently, glancing up at you and waiting for your response.

You nod enthusiastically, “I can.”

“That is good, you are doing so good,” he practically purrs, it makes your pussy spasm and his smile grows, he’s going to use this against you a lot and that makes you nervous… and aroused, something he definitely knows.

He scissors his fingers, trying to open you up for a third, you squirm and look down, his hand is so large and… slick. Glistening with how you spill down his fingers and into his palm. It’s an obscene sight that makes your heart flutter, you moan as your hips wriggle down, silently begging for friction, for more.

It’s slow, when he first adds a third, it’s a lot more to take but you’re getting impatient and the sounds you make convey as much, Raiden tuts at you, “Just stay still for me, please.”

You clench down on him but hold as still as you can manage, noises you didn’t think yourself capable of getting stuck in your throat as his thumb rubs at your clit. He eases his third finger inside and your own fingers grip at his shoulder, gasped and stuttered breaths leaving you as you try to take it.

Raiden holds a moan in his chest, getting off on how you look right now, his cock painfully hard. He’s trying to be so patient, trying his very best to not lose it at how well you’re doing for him, how compliant you’re being. He’s not asked much of you at all and you’re so completely willing, eager even, it feels like electricity is running through his veins.

Your voice is pitched high when you plead with him to move, “Rai– please~”

He looks to you, his smile kind but his aura smug, “More?”

“More,” you confirm. You’re getting close to finishing, your stomach tightening, pulling taut, your pussy throbbing around his fingers. All you need if for him to move, “I am –hah– I am getting close–”

“–I know,” is what he replies with, apparently perfectly aware of how close you’re getting but still taking his time anyways.

Once you relax more, he retracts his fingers and begins thrusting them in and out of you, the sounds that result make even him blush. His eyes dazed and lustful, his ego growing with just how wet you are for him. His free hand moves to grip your hip, holding you still, preventing you from bucking into him. Something he’s glad he did because when it begins to feel like too much you try to pull back and he doesn’t want you going anywhere.

“Is too –ngh– much,” you whimper to him, the feeling overwhelming you.

His eyes stay on your cunt, not looking away from what he’s doing, “You can take it, you have been doing so good.”

The moan that his praise pulls from you is damning evidence of how much his encouraging words effect you and he huffs a small sound of amusement at how much he’s effecting you just by telling you how good you’re doing. You’d snap at him if he weren’t so close to making you cum, you don’t want to risk this slipping from you. Your thighs shake and your tummy flips, your hands pull and grasp at his skin and you all but hold your breath as you cum on his fingers.

Unable to stay upright, you fall into his chest, your head on his shoulder, your moans being muffled into his skin. Your eyes shut tight as you jolt against him, your orgasm wracking over your body. Raiden groans at how your pussy trembles around his fingers, a shiver running down his spine.

You can’t speak, not yet, you’re shaking still and you just need a moment to collect yourself. Raiden retracts his fingers to let you collapse into him completely, your weight sat comfortably on top of him, his cock jerking underneath you from the friction and heat of your bare cunt.

He moves his head slightly to the side, his nose brushing against your cheek, “Are you okay?”

“More than, I just wasn’t… expecting all that,” it comes out mumbled, you’re even drooling onto his skin slightly.

He counters, “You are the one worried about taking me.”

You harrumph against him, pouting slightly, “For good reason!”

“We do not have to, if you are worried,” he strokes the back of your head, his touch delicate.

Pulling back to look at him properly, you assert, “I want to.”

He pulls you into him, kissing you deeply, his lips tender despite the depraved manner in which he’s kissing you. His lust clouding his head as he kisses you deeply, hands searching your body, groping and pulling at you, on your hips, your ass, your waist, your breasts, anywhere he can get to. All you can do is hold onto him and let him kiss you into oblivion, that’s not a complaint though, you think you’d let him kiss you for as long as he wants to.

His hands slip under your shirt, resting against your bare skin, revelling in the feel of your soft skin against his rough palms. His arms move to wrap around you completely, tugging you to his body, your front pressed against his as he kisses you stupid. You need air, you’re being deprived, slipping your hands into his hair, you tug, signalling to him that you need to breathe. The action pulls a moan from him, shared in the kiss, he understands your ask though and rests his forehead against yours. He’s huffing harshly, apparently needing air too and just refusing to pull away from you.

You go to ask him if he’s okay but he beats you to it, instead asking you, “Can you take this off?” He tugs at your shirt.

“Hmm?” It takes your dazed mind a second to catch on, “Oh! Yeah, okay,” you giggle softly at your stupidity and it makes Raiden smile goofy and big.

He slips his hands under your shirt and tugs it up and over your head, exposing yourself to him. He chucks it to the floor before his hands hesitate at touching you, grabbing one of his hands you place it on your body, encouraging him to touch you, that it’s okay. He’s more comfortable after that, both of his hands on your body, he holds your breasts in his large hands, pawing at them.

Leaning down, you kiss him again, he welcomes it but doesn’t take his hands away from your tits. Reaching for his pants, you begin tugging at the layers of clothes between the two of you, you’re struggling though, lost in his kiss and his warm hands. You let out a shocked moan when he pinches at your nipples, rolling them, your moan disconnects the kiss and your head falls to his shoulder.

He softly chuckles at your reaction, removing his hands from you and down to his pants, “…Sorry.”

“I don’t think you are,” you grumble against him.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder, “You are right, I am not.”

He hisses as he pulls himself out of his pants and you lean back to look down at him, his cock is slightly larger than you were expecting, average your ass. The tip is angry and red, leaking precum profusely. Clearly, he’s unbelievably worked up, his dick twitching as he holds the base of it. Your hand moves towards him, hesitating just as he did before, he lets go of his grasp and pulls your hand to him, mirroring your previous action, showing you it’s okay.

When you take him in your hand he holds back a moan, resulting in a small, hummed noise instead. It makes you smile to yourself, the noises he makes are cute… you want to hear more. You pick a languid pace and jerk him off, his chest stutters and his cock jumps, your thumb rubs at the tip of his dick, collecting the precum there and working it up and down his cock, making him slick.

His hips rise and stutter, wanting you to go faster but you don’t want to make him cum, you just want to tease him a little bit. You wonder how much you could tease him before he can’t take it anymore and just takes what he needs from you, the idea of seeing Raiden break and be little bit mean to you excites you more than you care to admit… but it’s a lot.

You’re still worried about taking him, he’s not slick enough and you need it slick if you’re going to sit on all of him, which you are determined to do. Gathering the saliva in your mouth you spit down onto the tip of his cock and he groans at the sight, fighting the urge to tip his head back, wanting to watch what you’re doing instead. You use your spit to lube his cock, your hand glides up and down his shaft easier like this. Raiden stutters out a sharp breath, he’s beyond horny, he’s getting twitchy, needy.

He huffs out, “Can I –hah–”

“Hmm?” You can’t tell exactly what he was going to ask, though you probably could guess.

“Can you just–” He sighs, exasperated, “Sit on it,” he waits a moment before adding “Please?”

His phrasing makes your pussy jump, you weren’t expecting that kind of directness from him, it is welcomed though. You bite back a smile at his increasing impatience, which he doesn’t miss, his eyes narrowing at you but before he can even think of something to say, you grip him tightly and sit up on your knees, drawing closer to him. His focus is suddenly back on your cunt, waiting for you to sink down on him.

You get frustrated at your underwear though, wanting them off before taking him, you let go of his dick and he grunts, “Hold on, I want to take off–”

Raiden looks mildly annoyed in front of you, his hands stop you from going anywhere and in an entirely bored manner, he tears your panties off of you. The material ripped from you and chucked across the room, a pathetic noise leaves you at it and he sits back, waiting on you again.

He looks up at you, “Better?”

You gape at him, “That was… impressive.”

He blushes a little but is serious as he says, “I can be so much more impressive, if you would just sit down, please.”

You squint at him but take his cock back in your hand, hovering over it again, you feel nervous to take him and you falter slightly. Just as you’re about to follow through, Raiden’s hands are on your hips, stopping you.

He looks concerned, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I am still a little worried about how large you are,” you’re genuinely fine, you are determined to take him.

He strokes your thighs, “You do not have to–”

“–I am fine, I can take it, I will take it,” you cut him off, you can do this.

He shudders at your assertion, “Fine, just… take what you can, do not force it.”

“Mhm,” you mumble out dismissively, already looking down again.

His hand moves to your face and makes you look at him, “I mean it, do not force it.”

“Okay,” you answer him properly this time, knowing full well… you probably, might, definitely force it… just a bit.

He squints at you, inspecting you for a moment before letting your face go and allowing you to carry on. You notch the tip of his cock at your entrance, breathing deeply as you begin sinking down on him. Raiden grips your thighs, his breath faltering in his chest, all of his focus put into not slamming you down onto him. It’s slow going and the stretch aches, you bite your lip as to not make any noises, not wanting to sound completely pitiful.

Once you get the tip of him inside you, your hands move to hold onto his shoulders, keeping yourself stabilised. You need to wait a moment before you can continue, you need to adjust. Maybe gaslighting yourself will help, you can take him, he’s not even that big. Looking down to where his cock is sitting, you realise gaslighting did not help, a small whimper leaves you at the sight of his dick not even close to being fully inside you.

He strains himself to say, “Take it easy.”

Raiden rests his head back against the headboard, his eyes shut tight, pleasure crawls up his spine and he’s having the hardest time not fucking up into you right now. His stomach pulls taut, he could probably cum just like this, which embarrasses him beyond belief. What kind of grown man cums from this much? Oh, but he’s so on edge and you’re so warm and tight and wet and he could die now and be happy.

Almost out of spite, you drop down onto him more, forcing it only slightly, still not quite halfway but significantly more than before. The shock of it causes Raiden to moan loudly and raise his head to look at you, his hands gripping you, not allowing you to do that again. His eyes are angry and wet, he’s in disbelief at you.

He’s a bit breathless now because of you, “I just said to take it easy.”

“I know,” you mutter, looking down, eyes looking at how he’s stuffed inside you.

You’re distracted, he might be saying more but you raise yourself back up before sliding down on him again, fucking yourself on what you’ve managed to take. He chokes and whimpers at the feeling, his eyes also watching where his cock is gliding in and out of you, his hips want to chase you, he wants so much more. He settles for gripping your skin and watching how you leak onto his dick.

He lets you take your time; you take what you can, fucking yourself open on him, his heart beats hard in his chest at the scene in front of him, his eyes all glazed over. Looking at you, you’re doing no better, you’re all fucked out with the cutest, dumbest look on your face, eyes gooey and mind far away. The noises that leave him make his skin flush but he can’t stop, not with how you devotedly ride not even half of him, he’s genuinely worried you’re going to kill him.

Eventually, after working yourself up and down his cock for a bit, you manage to take half of him. You slip down and whine at the feeling of him being so deep in you, “I don’t –ngh– know if I can take it all.”

“Does not matter– just– do not stop,” his words are rushed and borderline begged, pleading with you to keep going.

You do keep going, continuing to take what you can. Raiden leans forward, his face resting between your breasts, his hands gripping you higher on your back, still refraining himself from thrusting up into you.

“You feel so good… so good, such a pretty girl, doing so well,” he’s mumbling mindlessly into your skin, “Taking me so nicely, make sweet little noises, love listening to you.”

He’s going to make you cum if he keeps complimenting you like that but based on the way he doesn’t stop, you think that may be his intent. Compliments and sugar-coated words leave his lips as you try to keep the pace you’ve set, you’re throbbing around him, you’re so unbelievably close and if it didn’t feel so good you might be a bit more ashamed over how much his words effect you.

“Mmm, gripping me so tight, so perfect, have such good reactions –hah– I know you are close,” he’s still speaking into your skin, one of his hands moves to your cunt, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit, “I want it,” he groans.

You gasp, nails clawing at his skin, he shocks an orgasm out of you, it takes you by surprise, you knew you were close but not that close. You want to grind into him, you need more, and in your hazy, needy fog, you take more of him, dropping down as far as you can go. The sudden, extremely full feeling has you moaning loudly, your orgasm shuddering up and down your spine. You rock down onto him, at this point, forcing yourself to take him all, the pain only adding to the extreme pleasure you’re experiencing.

Raiden is holding you close, still not fucking up into you but whining under you, the pleasure he’s feeling taking over his mind. He can’t believe you did that; he can’t believe you forced yourself the whole way down his cock while cumming on him, he’s going to pass out. His dick is twitching, his teeth bared as he holds off on finishing.

Your limbs relax and you slump into him, your body trembling with the post orgasm shocks that run through you. Raiden pulls his head back to allow you the room to rest on him properly, his hands run up and down your back, soothing you, giving you time.

Being fully sat on him now is driving you mental, you’ve just cum on him and you’re greedy for more, he fills you so nicely, you feel so fucking full and it makes your head spin, “I can go again,” you promise, your hips grinding down into him.

He moans, surprised, “Take a break.”

You shake your head no at him, continuing to grind down onto him, it’s lazy and needy, basically only serving to try and pull another orgasm from you. It’s frustrating Raiden, he wants to go easy on you but you’re not letting him, you’re making his skin itch, he’s so fucking desperate for you and is still trying to be a gentleman, something you’re not appreciating. You’re being a brat but oh, it feels so good while you do, your walls hug him so firmly. His dick fully sheathed inside you is going to have him going insane.

He can’t take it anymore, the way you ardently rut down into him, eager for more, it pushes him over the edge. His hands grip your thighs and he readjusts his footing on the bed, giving himself leverage.

He speaks through gritted teeth, “Take a break, sit there and let me do it properly.”

You whimper at him and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, memorising the sound you just made at him. He uses his new position to fuck up into you how he likes, how he needs, this is all he’s wanted. He just wanted to drag his thick cock through your tight walls how he liked and now that he can, it’s making him release strangled moans and whimpers.

All you can do is take what he’s giving you, his thrusts harsh and targeted, he knows exactly where to hit and it has you moaning and drooling onto his skin, your head tucked into his neck. You take the opportunity to suck a hickey into his skin, a particularly hard thrust from him makes you bite his skin lightly. He whines at the feeling, his dick jerking at the way you’ve dug your teeth into his skin.

You need him to know, “Rai –ngh– feel really –mmph– good–”

A shiver runs through him at your compliment, he turns his head to the side slightly and speaks lowly to you, “If I feel so good… cum again.”

You gasp at him, your mind reeling, he says the most shocking things, not even all the obscene, just completely shocking to you.

“So desperate for it,” he mumbles, mostly to himself, before directing to you, “Taking my whole cock so nicely, taking it all just like you said you would,” and then he adds something that devastates you, “Such a good girl.”

He’s done that on purpose, you know it, “Rai– I can’t– it feels–” It feels different, your orgasm is tightening all your limbs, your stomach flipping, your mind going foggy.

You try to move away from him, pulling back but he keeps fucking you how he likes, “It is fine, let it happen.”

He’s so sure that it’s fine and it convinces you that it is, you let it happen, you let your orgasm wash over you. It has you almost thrashing, your hands digging into his skin and your feet kicking against the bed as you silently scream, panted gasps leaving you as you squirt all over his lap. Raiden relishes in the way your eyes roll back and your body shakes, your cunt clutching and spasming around him so tightly he can barely fuck you through it.

One of your hands move to his hair and tugs him harshly, his head moving back with it, he moans loudly and his balls tighten. He doesn’t fight it this time, he lets himself cum, filling your pussy with his thick load, finishing so much that it leaks out around where he’s stuffed you full. His moans trail off into small whines until he takes a deep breath and calms down, his eyes watch how you leak your shared releases down into his lap.

Your eyes are bleary, wet with unshed tears, you’re not capable of cohesive thought and it feels like electricity thrums through your veins, jerking you every now and again. You feel like you might collapse backwards at any moment, it makes you grateful for Raiden’s hands on your hips, giving you some stability, enough to keep you upright anyways.

You look to Raiden and he smiles at you, “You look beautiful.”

You make a distressed sound at him as your cunt jumps but that just makes him wear an even larger smile, it reaches his eyes.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Mhm… I didn’t think– I didn’t think I could do that,” you slur, shocked at how he’s managed to do that to you.

“No one has ever made you squirt?” He says it so earnestly and it makes you feel shy.

You look away from him, “I hadn’t even cum from anyone else before Lao.”

“And how many times did he make you cum?”

You glare back at him, “Why?”

He smiles politely, “Why else? Want to compare.”

You frown at him, “This is not an analytical essay, we are not comparing and contrasting.”

He continues smiling at you, waiting patiently for the answer he knows you’re going to give him.

And you do, you concede to him and reveal, “Twice.”

You can feel the way he’s proud of himself for not only having you finish three times but also making you squirt. He changes the topic though, not pushing you, “I hope you know; this was not just sex to me.”

“…It wasn’t to me, either,” you look away from him.

You can’t bring yourself to tell him what you had realised earlier, you’re painfully aware of how much you feel for him, of how much you feel for both of them but you aren’t quite ready to have that conversation yet.

His hand guides your face back to look at him, “Hey, it is okay, I told you before, I would wait. If it is you… I can wait.”

You lean forward to hug him and he holds you back, he’ll hold you for as long as you need and you know that. He makes you feel so cared for, you won’t make him wait, even though you know he will, you won’t do that to him because he may be able to wait… but you can’t.

𝜗𝜚

Thank you for reading !!! I hope it was good and silly and that you had fun reading <3 if you have any thoughts, feeling, questions, don't hesitate to reach out !! have a beautiful day/night :3

#mk1 smut #raiden x reader #raiden x reader smut #raiden smut #raiden mk1 smut #raiden mk1 #raiden x you #raiden x you smut

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melancholymetropolis · 9 months

Text

The Summoning

plot: Reader is freshly separated from her shitty ex and buys a new house in the middle of nowhere.

pairings: TraditionalVampire!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

genre(s): Soulmate AU; Forced Proximity; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited. mentions of DV and abuse. LARGE AGE GAP (Miguel is almost 300 years old). creepy basement. reader is very reserved, but not really shy. miguel falls first and HARD. mind reading. declarations of love every five minutes. miguel is an absolute simp for this woman. PIV SEX. BLOOD DRINKING. pet names (darling, sweetheart, mi amor, etc.) praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds.

a/n: there is over 4k words of smut in this. you're welcome.

w.c: 7.5k

Something had drawn me to the basement. The broker told me that it was completely bare and covered in cement. There was nothing to see or storage yet— since I just officially moved in last week. But my body kept pulling through the Victorian manor anyway. I descended the grand staircase, into the kitchen, and right to the back door. The basement had been directly adjacent to it. A tingling sensation coursed through me as I turned the doorknob and inched down the stairs. My nerves were buzzing and my head was going fuzzy. I could almost hear a voice crawling through my mind. It scoured the vast plane before meeting my subconscious. Despite the intrusive nature of the presence, I was not threatened by it. For some reason, my body did the exact opposite: I welcomed it. As I walked through the pitch-black basement, I allowed the foreign spirit to enter my mind.

Come to me, gentle creature.

In the far edge of the dark abyss, a candle flickered on. It was followed by another and another. One by one candles started to light throughout the room. Warm light started to gradually fill the space around me. They formed a perfect ring around me. My eyes drifted to the ground and widened at the sight. Words scribbled in yellow chalk were written underneath my feet. I captured words like “sanguis”, “potator”, “monstrum”, and “daemonium”. It was times like this that I wished I took Latin more seriously in High School. I would be able to beautifully translate the foreign tongue below me. I narrowed my eyes and continued to search the scribbles on the floor. There had to be something I recognized, some word in English that didn’t stray far from its Latin roots.

Suddenly, another candle flickered to life; following the same pattern as earlier. But, instead of following a circle pattern, it created a path to the other side of the room. The low light exposed more Latin words written in chalk on the floor. The loopy handwriting was almost decorative with how it graced the floor. Some sentences seemed never-ending. They covered the floors entirely; my eyes didn’t know where to look. I scanned the scattered lettering frantically, trying to piece together anything that could tell me what the hell was going on.

About thirty feet away from me, the thick path of candles split into two. It started to form another shape— it was a rectangle. Just outside the shape, my eyes picked up a word written in bright red. I didn’t need translation to understand what it meant, as its meaning was universal.

VAMPYRUS

The entire basement was encased in the warm light of hundreds of candles. The entire room was covered in Latin scribbling and horrific drawings. There were images of a massive figure with great fangs. He was drawn with bright red eyes and a disgusting scowl. His nails had been massive and strong. There had been claw marks embedded into the cement walls. Dried spatters of blood dripped near them. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest as my breathing increased. Panic coursed through me as I took several shaky steps backward. Then it finally hit me. The rectangular shape was not a decorative choice. The candles had been surrounding something I almost didn’t recognize: a casket.

Don’t be afraid, tender beauty. I am no harm to you.

Before I could even acknowledge the voice ringing in my mind, the lid of the casket started to slide open. Inch by inch it moved from the inside as subtle movement sounded from within the space. My mind was racing, desperately trying to piece together how I could get out of the situation. From the copious amounts of pop culture that I had consumed, I knew that vampires were vulnerable to silver of any kind and fire. Yet, the only silver thing I had to my name was a crucifix my grandmother gave me for my 15th birthday. There had been no signs of any wood near me, meaning I couldn’t make a stake even if I knew how. The candle’s fire was too weak to create any damage and to form a lasting flame.

I was simply stuck.

The casket’s lid fell to the ground with a loud thud. A massive body began to rise from within the space. A broad chest was covered in a pristine white dress shirt, which seemed to glow in the low light. That was the only thing I caught a glimpse of before the vampire’s body came racing toward me. I didn’t even have time to scream. His hands were on my body before I could blink. They gripped my waist tightly, before pulling me into a tight embrace. My head rested comfortably at the top of his abdomen, while my arms lay limp at my sides. The vampire had been at least a foot taller than me and I was no small girl. I was roughly 5ft10, definitely taller than the average woman in town. The creature’s size and gentleness had been a peculiar combination. It was something I wasn’t expecting.

“So. . . you’re not gonna kill me?” I asked awkwardly.

“Of course not,” he stated, pulling away from the embrace a bit. His deep brown eyes glimmered in the low light. “I believe I told you I wouldn’t, mi amor.”

His voice was smooth and thick. There was a hint of an accent there as well. On any other occasion, I would've found the man insanely attractive. He had strong features: deep-set brown eyes, a strong straight nose, and prominent cheekbones. The vampire’s thick black curls were combed back, highlighting his perfectly shaped eyebrows. His warm skin tone laid the pale-skinned vampire myth out to dry. The monster before looked graciously kissed by the sun as did I. In this low light, it seemed like we have the same complexion. That little fact gave me some kind of solace.

I would much rather be in a ring of candles with a BIPOC vampire, than a grumpy white one.

I slipped out of the arms of the swooning vampire and created some space between our trembling bodies. "Can we. . . uh. . . talk?"

"Yes, I would love that," he replied with a firm nob.

On the outside, his emotions seemed completely unreadable. He looked every bit like a big, scary vampire from the past. However, something within me told me otherwise. The familiar fuzzy feeling from before was coursing through me. Waves of curiosity, adoration and. . . relief washed over me. Everything within me told me that he was waiting for this very moment for a long time. That the vampire had waited a significant time to meet and embrace me. He wanted nothing more than to be in close proximity to me for an eternity.

"Could we maybe not have this conversation in a creepy, witchy basement?" I suggested, hesitantly.

"Anything for you."

Before I could utter another word, the massive vamp placed one arm underneath my knees and another against my shoulder blades. In one fell swoop, he lifted me off the ground and started walking to the stairs.

"Wait! The candles—"

Just as they lit themselves up, they sizzled out.

The vampire took careful steps out of the basement. He held me firmly against his body as he slowly climbed up the stairs and walked through the corridor. His eyes drifted along the walls, taking in the home's decor. He nodded at the forest-green walls and mused at the gold accents. Upon entering the living room, the vampire’s eyes flickered to the window. He took in the full moon in the sky, allowing the milky light to coat his skin.

After about thirty seconds, the vampire remembered where he was and placed me on a nearby couch. He took a seat in the spot next to me and remained silent. Almost like he was waiting for further instruction.

I nervously turned away from his fiery gaze and cleared my throat. The tension between us had already been so intense and we just met. It was so hard to focus when something so attractive was close to me.

Breathe, little dove. There's no need to rush anything. We have an eternity together.

"That! How do you do that?" I blurted. "How can I hear your voice in my mind?"

"Because we are fated to be together," he replied simply.

"You're gonna have to give me more than that, vamps," I chided, crossing my arms over my chest. "Let's start with your name. Who are you? Why were you in my basement?"

"My name is Miguel O'Hara," he started. "I was born in 1723 in Mexico. My mother was Mexican and my father was Irish— their love was the purest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t forbidden, but interracial relationships weren't exactly common. My Mexican side didn't necessarily appreciate my mother dating someone that wasn't her heritage, so they pushed me out of the village when I was ten years old." He sighed and shook his head at the statement. Almost as if he was still in disbelief by it. "We lived in the woods for about five years peacefully, until fever struck. It had taken both of my parents in a matter of weeks. Leaving teenage me to fend for myself after that."

Although I wasn't expecting to give his entire life story, I wasn’t mad at it. It gave some humanity to the hulking man next to me.

"I met a witch not too long after that. She invited me into her home, fed me, and gave me a change of clothes," Miguel continued. "She was the first kind person I met in a long time and I decided to stick beside her. We grew close and I told her everything. About my parent's relationship, how their families rejected me, and how utterly lonely I felt when they died. I told her how I, one day, wanted to share that same love with someone. How I wanted to devote my life to that person. How I wanted to live forever with them."

"You were cursed, weren't you?"

"At the time, it was meant to be a blessing. Something to give me hope. Something to make me want to continue living, because I was tired," he confessed.

"Oh, no. . . I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

But the look on his face told me that it still bothered him.

We stood in silence for a few moments, just letting the information settle in the room. I couldn’t stop glancing at his saddened face every so often. There was something deep within me yearning to comfort him. I wanted to embrace his huge body and place his head against my chest. I'd say sweet nothings, while I played in his hair. I wanted him to hear the steady beat of my heart, in hopes that it would soothe him.

It would, gentle creature. Just one touch and all the pain would drift away from my body.

My eyes widened at the statement as a fate blush dusted my cheeks. "Woo. . . lord give me strength," I swallowed hard. "You know how to make a girl feel special."

"That's because you are," Miguel replied, gripping both my hands. "I waited over a century to be graced with your presence and I could already tell it was worth the wait. Everything about you is just so intoxicating, from those big brown eyes to that wondrous mind. You are everything I ever wanted and more."

My heartbeat started to increase once more, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was lust. To hear such tender words from a man like him had made my heart glow and my womanhood heat. He was praising me for simply existing and that was enough for him. He didn't expect me to be anyone else or to change. From what I could tell, he liked me just the way I was.

Unlike Richard, my soon-to-be ex-husband.

The ill thought made a sour look flutter onto my face. I shoved the faulty memories back into the box that they sprang out of and sighed. I wasn’t to think about the divorce, let alone talk about it.

"So, given the information you have provided, you are about 300 years old," I concluded.

"That is correct."

"And it would be safe to assume that this used to be your house?"

"Yup."

"And you've been in the basement the entire time?"

"Mhm."

"And the real estate agent knew?"

"Not exactly," he countered. "The section of the basement we were in was sealed off for at least a century. I had started to lose faith in your arrival and decided to rest until I was graced with your presence. The witch had told me that I would instinctively know it was you. There would be some kind of force pushing us both together. And she was right. I mean why else would you buy a house in the middle of nowhere."

I turned away from him, desperately trying to limit the thoughts of my past from flaring right back up. I simply wasn't ready to share that part with him yet.

A yawn, suddenly, ripped through me and took over my being. I looked down at my wristwatch and realized that it was well into two o'clock in the morning.

"How about we call it a night?" Miguel suggested. "You seem exhausted and we could always continue this tomorrow."

"Alright," I said, slowly rising to my feet. "Well, good night then."

"Good night, sweetheart."

Miguel O'Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense of the word. He was allergic to silver and all things holy. Meaning, that little crucifix my grandmother gave me had to stay in the jewelry box from that point forward. He was also deathly sensitive to sunlight and remained asleep for the majority of the day. He didn't necessarily prefer to sleep in the coffin, but he continued out of respect for me.

Finally, he drank blood and from the dried splatters along the wall, lots of it. I didn’t know where he got it or who he got it from, but I refused to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.

After a few more encounters with the friendly vampire, he revealed that he awoke from his deep slumber a month before our meeting. It was around the time I was touring the house for the first time. Miguel detailed how his heart grew with anticipation as my footsteps echoed throughout the home. He knew from the moment I stepped out of the car that I was the woman he was looking for, a missing piece to a very complicated puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to me, but since I primarily arrived at the estate during the daytime he couldn't.

In pure vampiric fashion, Miguel decided to wait on the night of the full moon to make his grand appearance. The mysticism of the event was supposed to soften the blow, at least that's what he assumed. Since the curse was performed on a full moon, our connection would be amplified during that time. Which was why he was able to read my thoughts so clearly and I read his emotions.

The more I talked to Miguel, the more fairy tale-esque the situation felt. It was as though I was a princess, forced to stay in a drafty old castle with a mysterious prince. Someone that looked brutal and monstrous on the outside. Someone that has the capability of ripping someone's head off without breaking a sweat. Yet, he was the kindest man I had ever met.

My eyes flickered over to one of the many gifts that Miguel has given me over the last few days. There had been about two dozen Double Delight roses sitting in a pristine crystal vase before me. Their white core seemed to glow in the moonlight, while red tips glittered like rubies. I had never seen something so pretty. I don’t know how he managed to order them, with him being a vampire and all, but the action had struck something in me. Miguel didn’t get me flowers out of obligation. He didn’t get them because it was an anniversary or a birthday. He had gotten them just because he knew they would bring me joy.

I cried when I saw them.

"You have to stop crying every time I give you something," Miguel said, placing a box on the kitchen counter. "You're going to make me want to kill your past lovers."

My eyes widened at the statement. "Why would you do that?"

"Because they didn't treat you right," he replied nonchalantly. "I mean, what is courting if not showering a woman with gifts?"

I could feel the tears immediately well in my eyes. "Miguel. . . " I murmured.

"You didn’t even open the gift and you're already crying," he tsked. The vampire pulled a tissue from the box and lifted it to my face. "May I?"

I nodded.

Miguel closed the gap between us. His massive body towered over my own, completely encasing me against the counter. He brought the tissue to the corner of my eye and began to dab. His tired brown eyes fazed into mine with an unreadable emotion. It was a cross between uncertainty and adoration. It was almost like he was pondering whether I had truly been his perfect match. If I would ever accept the union and show him who I was. He could sense that I was hiding something, but never pushed. Miguel was a patient man. He was fine waiting an eternity for me to trust him, as long as I stayed with him.

The vampire lowered the tissue from my face but kept his body close to mine. His brown eyes stayed steady on my face. They digested my worrisome demeanor and presented a soft facial expression. I took my bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled nervously. My eyes kept stealing glances at his soft lips. They have been my main distraction for the past month and I was beginning to lose my self-control.

As a freshly separated woman, the temptation was as strong as ever. A big, strong, rich vampire wanted to take care of me for an eternity? How does one say no to that? I was struggling too.

Kiss me.

I shouted the two words out loud in my mind, in hopes that he'll hear them. His eyes widened from the statement and a slow smile crept onto his face. His muscular arms wrapped around my plump body and pulled me even closer to him. I could feel my ample bosoms squish against his hard abdomen, which sent a shiver down our spine. Miguel’s thoughts were just as dirty as mine and we were tempted to make them a reality.

The vampire slowly leaned on closer, forcing our noses to touch. He parted his lips and gradually inched towards my mouth. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. The first brush of his lips made my heart stop. My knees felt weak and Miguel had to gather me in his arms. A pleasurable sensation skated across my nerves. Fireworks had exploded behind my closed eyes and everything seemed to still be around me.

It was simply magical.

Miguel goes to pull away, but I grip his shirt to stop him. Slowly but surely I had found my strength and hooked my arms around his neck. I kissed him back. I welcomed every emotion that blossomed from our union. Adoration. Longing. Lust. I moaned against his lips and brought my body closer to his. A growl erupted behind his throat as he lifted me off the ground. My legs were wrapped around his hips and my arms were securely around his neck.

Are you sure this is what you want, mi amor?

His Latin accent was thicker than usual in my mind. The lust was quickly eating away at his polished demeanor. The carnal desires were slowly coming to the light and his inner beast was almost ready to pounce.

I couldn’t wait.

I pulled away from the drooling vampire and scanned his face. His pupils were dilated and his mouth was partially open. He didn't have to use his lungs or breathe if he didn't want to. Yet, Miguel was heaving. The kiss had seemed to bring life to him, forcing him to take rapid breaths.

His thoughts were loud in my mind.

Miguel wanted me. He wanted me in every way one could imagine.

He wanted me on the floor. Bent over the couch. Against the wall. He wanted me in the shower, hands pressed against the glass. Hovering over the bathroom sink with my arms behind my back. He wanted me in the kitchen, across the island with my legs on his shoulders. He wanted me in the study, fucking me so hard the books fell off the shelves. He wanted me in my bed, my thighs smothering his face while my hips wiggled against his mouth.

Miguel wanted to truly break the house— our house in. The vampire wanted to fuck me on every available flat surface possible; from the top of his coffin in the basement to the expensive rug in front of the fireplace. He wanted me in the best and the worst way. He wanted me in any way he could have me.

And, to my surprise, I was going to let him.

I want you, Miguel. I want you so bad it hurts.

His eyes fluttered closed and he tightened his grip on my body. Miguel pressed his forehead to mine and released a shaky breath. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear, Y/N.”

His plump lips locked with mine moments later. The kiss was even more intense than its predecessor and it made spin. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling the curls as I wiggled my tongue in his mouth. The Latin man blindly started to take steps out of the kitchen. Like an expert, he managed to walk through the hallway without bumping into any furniture or walls. He slowly walked up the stairs, while dropping messy kisses down my jaw and to my neck. My eyes rolled back as he sucked the tender area. My whimpers bounced through the house without warning. The sheer sounds of my pleasure were starting to stir things within me.

My ex always wanted me to be quiet when the moment came. He said my moans were “nauseating” and took him out of the mood. Richard preferred I be as silent as a mouse while he climbed on top of me a humped me like a rabid dog. The sex never lasted longer than ten minutes and there was rarely any foreplay. The act felt like a chore, rather than an activity we could enjoy together.

It was one of the many things Richard ruined for me.

Miguel lowered my body onto a familiar surface and pulled me away from the embrace. I opened my eyes to see his big brown eyes staring down at me. A look of pure bliss had graced his face as a took me in. He looked at me as if I were the only woman in the entire world. Like I was his most prized possession. Miguel O’Hara looked at me as if I was his entire reason for existing and I could feel my heart swell with an emotion I almost forgot existed: love.

I was beginning to fall in love with a man I had barely known for a month.

I was falling in love with a man that rested for a hundred years, waiting for me.

I had started to fall in love with a vampire. A monster to some, but an absolute sweetheart to me.

The fanged bastard was starting to creep into my cold heart and repair everything I thought was broken forever.

Miguel had made me realize that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I wasn’t broken. I just needed the right lover to make me whole.

My trembling hands reached for the buttons on my shirt. I fumbled with the little pieces of plastic, silently cursing myself for being so nervous. Without saying a word, Miguel’s gentle hands replaced my own. His nimble fingers undid the buttons in a matter of seconds. He slipped the cotton garment off my shoulders and tossed it aside. The longs digits gently caressed my soft center and shoulders. Miguel’s touches were light and respectful— something I wasn’t particularly craving at that moment. With shaky hands, I fumbled with the belt buckle of my pants. I undid the fastening of the dark blue jeans and started to push them down my waist. The vampire moved his hands lower, assisting me in the undressing activity. As he did that, I removed the hair clip from my head and allowed my box braids to fall to my back.

Miguel growled at the sight. He took in my pretty purple lingerie set and crawled on the bed. It was a vintage lacy number, with handmade lace and silk ribbons. I had bought it sometime after he had given me the twelfth gift; it was one he had to assemble. His bulging muscles and breathy grunts had practically pushed me to the lingerie website. My dirty, little mind couldn’t help but imagine him making those noises while I was underneath him. For that reason, I decided I needed to be ready. I needed to wear lingerie just in case I got lucky.

“You’re as beautiful as a painting, mi amor,” he purred. “I could stare at you forever.”

A warm sensation arose to my cheeks as my heart began to pound. “Miguel. . .”

“My darling. . .” he replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped the thin cotton fabric from his muscular arms and tossed it aside. “I have waited for this. . .” Miguel unbuckled his pants. “I have waited for you. . .” He slid the dark grey trousers down his muscle thighs and allowed them to pool at his ankles. “For over a century and that wasn’t nearly as hard as being in the same house with you for the past four weeks.”

The final thing remaining on his body was a pair of boxer briefs, which I had bought him. The bulge, now unrestricted, was bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. It was bigger than I could have ever had, yet I wasn’t scared. If what he told me was true, then we were made for each other. Completely destined to be united. So, in other words, I should be able to take his monster dick with no problem.

Touch me.

Within seconds, his massive body was hovering atop mine. His lips were dancing along my neck as his fingertips wiggled between my thighs. They pushed past my waistband and down my curly mound. The callous pads gently caressed the sensitive lower lips, which caused my body to shiver. They separated the vulva and found my happy-swollen pearl instantly. A gasp erupted from my throat as the man above me rubbed large circles against it. It had been so long since I had been touched so intimately by someone else— I had almost forgotten what the sensation felt. Moans spilled from my lips as my hands pulled against his hair. My body vibrated against his, begging Miguel to take it just a single step further. My slick channel felt so empty and practically unused. It craved to be stretched and probed.

“You are so wet. . .” The vampire growled against my neck. “I’ve barely even touched you. . .”

“Please. . .” I mewled, rolling my body against his. “Stop the teasing. . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Miguel released a deep chuckle. “Whatever you say, mi amor.”

In the blink of an eye, my underwear was off and the vampire was beneath me. My thighs rested on either side of his handsome face and his large hands were on my hips. I looked down and immediately noticed the facial expression he chose to wear for that occasion. It was pure adoration. My curly mound and sensitive vulva were in his direct line of vision. The vampire had been staring at it as if it were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen in his 300+ years of living. With tender hands, he pushed my hovering hips down on his open, waiting maw. Electricity shot through my body as his tongue lapped against my folds.

“Oh fuck. . .”

My hips rolled against his eager face, while I used the headboard to stabilize myself. The velvet muscle caressed the sensitive area, sending shocks through my body. His firm grasp directed my hips closer to his face. The gentle pulling didn’t stop until my pelvis was comfortably resting on the hot mouth and prickly chin. The fear of smothering him had come and gone; Miguel O’Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense. He didn’t need to breathe. He could feast on my beloved womanhood for as long as he desired without coming up for air. Shivers ran through my spine from the idea. A feeling of triumph coursed through my veins, alongside the pleasure giving me goosebumps. I had truly hit the lover jackpot of the millennia.

Eventually, his soft lips found the aching pearl underneath her curtains. The lips wrapped around the bud and trapped her in a cage. A powerful suction fired up in Miguel’s mouth and my eyes snapped open from the action. My hips started to have a mind of its own. I rolled them faster on his face, harder too. He alternated between sucking and lapping the oozing cunt— my god did it feel oh so good. Desire was coursing through my needy body. A hunger I didn’t recognize was forming in the pit of my stomach. There was a sort of power in the position Miguel had placed me in. My thighs were completely smothering his face and his mouth was full of my cunt. My hips were fucking his hot mouth like they only had five minutes left on Earth. My hands gripped the headboard so tightly I thought I might break it. I could feel my peak nearing, but the notion didn’t stop my movements. I fucked myself against his mouth for what felt like hours until my back suddenly arched and my toes curled.

“Fuck!” I cursed as my legs shook against his face. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face!”

Slowly, all the feeling left my body except Miguel’s mouth on my pussy. My limbs numbed and my head drew blank. I could no longer hear the sounds of the sultry moans dripping from my lips, just my rapid heartbeat exploding in my chest. There was a warm sensation at the pit of my stomach, one I hardly recognized. My mouth fell open and my movements came to a screeching halt. My thighs squeezed shut, and my body hunched forward. One of my hands gripped his hair, while the other remained on the headboard. Short shouts spilled from my lips. Incoherent phrases followed soon after. There was not a cohesive thought in my mind at that moment.

The orgasm felt long and raw. It unearthed something unholy within me. I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him. I needed Miguel inside of me right then and right now.

When my soul had returned to my body, I dragged my twitching lower half to his awaiting cock. It was still hard, throbbing, and glistening. I wrapped my hand around the shaft and ran the tip along my puffy pussy. I let it circle my clit a few times before aligning it with my entrance.

“Y/N, wait— Shit!”

My slutty hips slowly sank onto the vampire’s cock, earning a violent twitch of the member inside of me. I firmly placed my hands on his chest, pushing my hips down even more. There was a subtle burn from how much he stretched my needy pussy, but I didn’t mind. I only made it about halfway down the shaft before Miguel started to rub my forgotten clit. Moans fell from my lips as I pushed down just a little bit more. Before I knew it, the entire member was buried in my snatch to our surprise. We looked down in shock at where our curly bits met in shock.

We are made for each other, huh?

Miguel’s eyes sparkled at the statement and a wicked grin fell on his lips.

Before I knew it, the vampire had placed me flat on my back with my legs hugging his waist. His deep brown eyes were looking into mine with such intention— I didn’t need to hear his voice in my mind to understand it. Miguel, then, hooked his arms underneath my shoulders and placed his forehead against mine. His hips rolled slowly against my womanhood. The painstakingly muted movements made my body sing with anticipation. It felt as though he was testing the waters. The vampire wanted to see just how used how much my heat accommodate his massive cock. He needed to make sure I wasn’t being hurt in any way and that the motions weren’t too rough for me.

I brought my lips to his and gave him a seductive kiss.

Fuck me like you mean it.

The massive man groaned against my lips and started to litter lazy kisses against my neck.

You’re going to be the death of me.

Before I could process what he meant, the vampire lifted his head from the area and readjusted his body. He placed his palms flat down on the mattress and raised his body from mine. Our chests were separated, but our legs were tangled together. It seemed like he preferred it that way. He took in my expression once more before increasing his thrusts. The process was gradual. The pressure and speed increased in small increments. Again, Miguel was testing my limits as to how much I could handle. He was doing everything in his power to make sure this was a comfortable experience instead of a painful one.

The moans didn’t start flying from my mouth until a few moments passed. My entire body was jiggling from the force applied to his thrusts. My eyes slipped shut and my back arched against his looming body.

"Please," I whimpered. "Please, Miguel. Just a little harder."

I could feel a pleasurable flame ignited within me. I wanted nothing more than my body ablaze and the wind knocked from me. The hunger was still prevalent even after the hardest orgasm of my life. I wanted Miguel in any possible way I could have him. Above, below, and adjacent. On my back, my stomach, or my side. I wanted him to plow his massive member in me, just as desperately as he sucked into my snatch.

With a growl, Miguel hoisted my body in the air and pulled me onto his lap. Instinctively, I hooked my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He sat back on his heels and held me tightly against his chest. Without warning, his hips rose from their slouched position and collided with my center. A gasp tickled my tongue and air escaped my lungs. The thrusts were deep and hard. They pushed through me with such intention and precision that it was supernatural. The smooth head of his member was nestled against a pleasure point I forgot I had. The snap of his hips had sent the head to kiss the underside of my cervix, which was sending shock waves through my core. His strength and speed were unmatched. The hip thrusts were so quick that it felt as if Miguel was vibrating against me. My entire body felt tingly and warm. Deep throaty moans shot out of me as my eyes fell closed. My walls fluttered against the devilish member and I could already feel my peak begin to rise.

“H-h-holy Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered, digger my nails into his shoulders. “M-M-Miguel. . .”

Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the smile slowly take over his face.

Take me, mi amor. Take all of me. My cock, my power, my adoration— it is all yours to have. To hold. To cherish.

The sweet words had sent my insides into a frenzy. My heart swelled from the dedication. It made the impending orgasm all that much sweeter.

I am yours. In this lifetime and the next. I will remain by your side as long as you breathe and even after that.

His name was the only word I could formulate in my mind as he continued to pound into me. I chanted it over and over again in my mind since my tongue wasn’t cooperating properly. I thought about our life together and what it could look like. Our nights would be filled with cuddles and kisses. Declarations of love and tiny gifts to show appreciation towards each other. There would be no arguments or spats over silly things. I wouldn’t have to hide in my bedroom because he came home too drunk or pretend it didn’t happen the next morning. I could ask him to fix things and it would get done. I wouldn’t have to wonder if his love was true, since he had no problem with telling me every chance he got. From what I gathered from his mind, there was nothing I could do to make Miguel love me even less. Nothing I could do to provoke him to yell at me or attempt to hit him. Even if I drew a stake into his heart, Miguel wouldn’t even stop me. He told me, “Death by your hand is the only way I would want to go.”

What he had for me was more than just love and trust. It is more than simply being fated to one another. He had the drive to be a good partner, someone worth loving. It showed in everything he ever did. From the copious amounts of gifts to the gentle words in my mind as he fucked me into another dimension— Miguel O’Hara simply loved loving me and that made my heart ache.

The orgasm collided with my body and immediately pulled me out of my daze. My eyes rolled back and my head fell as well. Short, curt gasps puffed out of my mouth. Fireworks exploded throughout my mind as the orgasm progressed. His movements remained steady and consistent, making it even longer than intended.

On my pleasurable way down, one of my hands crept up to Miguel’s head and took hold of his dark curls. I moved my head a little bit and exposed my neck.

Drink.

Miguel stopped his rapid thrusting and looked down at me. “Are you sure, darling? Because you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I interjected. “And I trust that you won’t drain me completely. So, drink.”

His brown eyes fluttered to my exposed neck and shaky breath left his lips. “Just let me know if I am hurting you, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Slowly, Miguel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, earning a small gasp from me. There was a small pinch, but then it was followed by gentle suckling. My eyes fluttered closed as a glorious sensation arose within me. It was foreign, something I could only describe as delectable. The forbidden nature of the act was feeding my carnal desires in a way that nothing else had. In a way, Miguel had been getting his fill of me just as I got of him. The transaction was nowhere near normal or mundane. The supernatural nature of it was making my head spin and my desire spike once again.

My hips rolled against his lap as he continued to drink from my neck. His member was still hard nestled between my sensitive walls, but it was twitching. It signaled to me that Miguel was just as turned on as I was by the act. I pulled our bodies back, resulting in me on my back again. His mouth slipped from my neck with a groan. Miguel sat up from his slumped position and looked up at the ceiling. When he opened his eyes, they were pupil-less. The once-white sclera was shrouded in black with specks of white, from the moonlight. His mouth was painted a deep crimson and his fangs were longer than than I had ever seen them. He looked every bit like a scary, bloodthirsty vampire; yet I wasn’t afraid of him. Not for one second. I was even more turned on.

“Filthy little minx.” His voice was deeper than before. It rumbled through me and straight to my core. “You entice me with such a tempting offer and then lay there all pretty and docile.” He licked his lips slowly, capturing every stray drop of blood at the corners of his mouth. “It’s almost like you want me to ruin your pretty, plump body with my vampiric tendencies.”

He pulled my rear back onto his lap but left my upper back against the mattress. Miguel’s massive hands took hold of my hips before he snapped his against mine at a sickening pace. It wasn’t nearly as fast as before, but it was a little bit harder than earlier. My breasts bounced atop my chest as the thrusts pierced through me. The vampire was no longer kissing the sweet spot beneath my cervix; he was obliterating it. My fingers gripped the sheets beneath me and I held them tightly.

“Oh Fuck!” I yelled, staring directly into his eyes. “Just like that! Don’t stop!”

The sweet lover that I had grown to adore had left and been replaced with something I can only describe as a monster. The nature of his movements could no longer be described as tender and loving. They were animalist and rugged. They were unholy and disgusting— yet I couldn’t get enough. Miguel had fucked me like I was the last woman on earth. There was no hate or malice in the action. It left like he needed me. Like I was the only person that could get him that turned on and ready to risk it all.

“And you would absolutely correct, mi amor,” he groaned, staring down at me. Never breaking his pace, not even for a moment. “No woman will ever have the power that you have over me. To me, you are the last woman on this Earth that will get this kind of care and devotion from me. I will spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of your adoration. You are my first and last love.”

“Oh yes!” I screamed, gripping the sheets harder. “Keep going! Please keep going.”

A snarl crept from his throat as his dangerous pace continued. Even in the heat of pleasure, I could feel his hips fluttering and his cock twitching. Miguel was starting to reach his limit.

Come with me.

The vampire threw his head back and shouted a word in spanish. His hips had done their best to keep their iron will and delectable pace, but they became sloppy and unorganized. Miguel’s chest was rising and falling as if he had just ran a marathon. His mouth was agape and his fangs were still long. His thighs were vibrating underneath my rear and his member twitched violently within me. Yet, like the gentleman he was, Miguel’s hand found my aching pearl and he started to rub it viciously.

Our bodies rasped and shook against one another. Our breathing was practically in sync as we the throes of pleasure collided with our spirits.

I love you, Y/N.

The vampire had shouted the statement in my mind as his cock shot hot liquid into my snatch. Miguel whimpered and whined as he emptied the load in me. It was a beautiful site. To have a have a man enjoying sex and passion without limiting the experience was delightful. I could feel my heart begin to warm and my mind gain a glossy haze. A gentle pool in my belly started to overfill and my orgasm poured onto me. It was a gently as a river and just as powerful as the ones prior. It caused my entire body to relax into the mattress and my rear to slip from Miguel’s lap. I threw an arm over my face as my body trembled and twitched.

Without missing a beat, Miguel moved from his position between my legs. He took a spot on the right side of my body and pulled me into his arms. He cradled me as the aftershocks of the orgasm died down. The vampire murmured sweetnothings into my ears and mind. Reassuring me that everything was okay and that I was safe. After a few moments, I lifted my head from his chest and found his eyes. They had went back to their normal state. My shaky hands brushed against his sharp jawline and strong nose bridge. I cupped his cheek, before pressing his lips to mine.

I adore you.

---------

a/n: I have seen the asks and the messages. I appreciate your support and I will try my best to get on them as soon as possible. I will be posting every Sunday once again.

next on the queue (hopefully): Peter B Parker x Reader x Miguel O'Hara

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