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ghoststyles · 2 months

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Casanova

HIIIII 🤍 Here is a little piece I've been working on for a while! This is inspired by the song Casanova by Rayland Baxter. Harry is a manipulative little twat in this, so bare with me 🤍

7.5K words;

TW: SLIGHT mommy kink. He doesn't call her mommy but he calls her mama and Miss/Missy. P in V sex, oral sex, phone sex. FACETIME SEX <3 Slight mentions of suicide. EXTREME drug and alcohol abuse. Arrests, jail. the works.

ENJOY AND GIVE ME A BOOP IF YOU LIKE IT :D

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Money, all I ever want is money But I never wanna work for the money So I borrow the money from a woman

Harry Styles knew who he was from a young age. A charmer. A flirt. He uses his wits and his good looks to manipulate the people around him until they have no choice but to give in, conning them and infiltrating their lives for his own gain.

His days are simple; He sleeps until 11, combs his hair into a perfect swirl of chocolate curls, brushes his perfectly white and straight teeth, spritzes his neck with his ridiculously priced Tom Ford cologne, climbs into his Porsche Cayenne to hit the gym, and grab an $18 smoothie for the ride home. From there, he lets the day unfold how it pleases, until it’s time to go to the club with his friends. Here and there, he’ll meet up with his dealer and his bookie to spice it up.

Rinse. Reuse. Repeat.

As a child, Harry was dirt poor. He’d never let anyone know that, however. His perfectly curated image blossomed the minute he got to college, leaving any ounce of mediocrity behind. His friends were none the wiser, assuming Harry was there blowing his trust fund like the rest of them, when really, he was a charity case.

Every day, he’d walk to the corner store for cigarettes for his dad and cans of tuna fish, stealing a small item to try and feel something. The owner, Mr. Abbott, knew Harry stole from him, but never said a word. He’d return to their one bedroom apartment, flicking the light on, only to find the electric bill hadn’t been paid.

His parents are not addicts or criminals, by any means. If they were, he’d at least have a touching back story. Neither of them have the drive or the desire to succeed like he does. They lived their simple lives, worked paycheck to paycheck to support him and his siblings and never worked for more.

On the day he left for college, he vowed to himself to never let anyone see him as the poor, pathetic boy he was. He’ll put his own silver spoon in his mouth, if he must.

So, as he sits high and mighty on his throne after doing a few lines off a pretty girl’s tits in the VIP section of his favorite club, The Viper, surrounded by his fellow socialite friends, he thinks of one person.

You.

Harry isn’t unemployed, per se, but, he doesn’t exactly have a job, either. Two years ago, at the ripe age of 21, he graduated magna cum laude from university, with top marks in all of his classes. But, he knew he didn’t want to work a traditional job. He wanted to travel, he wanted to live lavishly, and he wanted to party.

That’s where you come in. The gorgeous, alluring and kind-hearted woman that feeds the beast that is his lifestyle. He wouldn’t change it for the fucking world.

Swiping aimlessly one day on the dating apps, he stopped his scroll abruptly to study your profile. You’re perfectly curated - the collection of photos reflecting your outgoing personality and beauty.

38. Looking for some fun. Dog mom. CEO. Let me spoil you <3

Seeking a male ages 21-28.

His eyebrow quirks. A sugar mommy? Is that a thing?

He swipes right, hoping deep down you match. This could be it. This could be his way in. The funds from his financial aid are quickly dwindling, and he’d be sooner caught dead than with a part-time job.

He dawdles around his apartment for a few hours, pacing the room to see if you matched with him. The possibility of this arrangement is scratching an itch he’s been desperate to quell.

He readies himself to meet his friends at the club, placing cologne on his neck and wrists. For good measure, he adjusts himself in his trousers to get a little blood flowing down there.

As he plucks his keys from the door, he hears the familiar ping from the dating site ring out from his laptop. Stopping in his tracks, he pivots to stand at his desk. He swallows thickly before entering his passcode.

Congratulations, Casanova94, you matched with BabyHoneyxo

A dazed smile makes its way to his lips, his dimple popping significantly. This is going to be good.

Can you believe I never met her? Can you believe she never met me, too? But she calls me everyday, telling me to behave And no I never listened

Now, almost two years later, you and Harry have still never met in person. But, that’s by your request. You want a companion. A call boy. Someone who will always answer the phone when you need it. And ever since you inherited your family’s wealth and company, you want someone to spoil.

It started off slow; texts asking about one another’s day, learning about hobbies and interests. Then, the wire deposits came in. Harry wasn’t sure if he had hearts in his eyes or dollar signs. You don’t tell him how to spend the money, but you definitely drop hints.

“Get yourself a new outfit, baby. Then send me a picture,” you smiled lazily on FaceTime one night. “Maybe you can find something to match the Porsche.”

Harry chuckles boyishly, “You’re too good to me. I just went shopping last week!”

He has you eating out of the palm of his hand.

“I know, I know. I just want my baby boy to be happy. Can you pull yourself out for me, baby? Wanna see you,” you purr, making yourself comfortable on your king sized bed in your quiet penthouse. You’re winding down for bed, even though your lover is just getting ready for the night.

“Mhm,” Harry responds, voice an octave higher and desperate sounding. He slides himself out, letting his cock harden slowly in his hands. “My friends will be here soon, Missy.”

“That’s okay, bubba. We’ll be quick. Mmm, look how big and gorgeous you are,” your sultry tone sends shivers up his spine. He adjusts the camera so you’re looking at his abdomen from below his thick cock.

“My perfect boy,” you moan out as you touch your clit for the first time this evening. “Always so good for me.”

“Yes, Missy. Wanna be good for you. Can I touch myself harder now?”

“Yeah, baby, go ahead. Squeeze that big cock. Tell me when you’re close.”

At this point, you’re furiously rubbing your clit, and gently teasing a finger inside. His breaths are becoming more labored as he pumps his cock at a faster pace. You pause just before your climax, sending your heart rate to a thunderous pace you can hear the ringing in your ears.

You look over at your phone propped up next to you to find your little love sweating and fisting himself hurriedly. The whimpers coming from the other end make the hairs on your arms stand up. After a beat, you continue the assault on your clit, starting off slow in order to reach that peak again.

“I-I’m close, Missy. Please let me cum. I f-feel so good,” at the tail end of his begging, he moans deeply.

“Uh-uh. Who always cums first, baby?”

“You, Mama. You cum first,” he pants, his eyes making panicked contact with yours.

“That’s right. Good boy. I’m so close baby,” you squeak out as you stick two fingers in your cunt. You cry out, at your release, gently tweaking your nipple with your other hand.

Harry isn’t far behind, taking one last swipe over his tip, using his other hand to cup his balls. He cums all over his fist, small specks of white littering his belly. He whimpers again, barely able to open his eyes.

“Let me see, baby,” you whisper, waiting for him to show you his load. He pans the camera silently, the haze already leaving his head. But he’d never tell you that.

“Thank you, Missy. I feel so good.”

“Mmm, bet you do, baby. Now go clean up and have fun with your friends. I’ll talk you tomorrow. Behave!”

“Okay, I will. Goodnight.”

The minute Harry presses ‘end’, an ounce of remorse bubbles in his chest. Just an ounce. He rises from his bed to jump in the shower, ridding him of his guilt and shame.

Sure, you’re gorgeous, and nice. But you’re not what’s getting him off. Or so he likes to tell himself. Throughout your sessions on FaceTime, Harry’s mind wanders to the girls he’s hooked up with the weekend before, and the countless drugs he’ll consume on a night out. That’s what gets his rocks off.

You’re the means to his ends. The gateway to his wildest dreams. He’s going to hold onto you for as long as he can, even if he has to get off over the phone a few nights, or pretend to care about the philanthropy you’re supporting that week.

Harry should be your only philanthropy, he thinks to himself. This is the easiest job he’s ever done. And it only makes it better that he can do whatever he wants, with no consequences.

As he gets out of the shower, his prick still swinging in the air, he picks up his phone to see a Venmo payment from you.

Y/N L/N paid Harry Styles - $2,000.00 - 😘

Without even hesitating, Harry, heart rate rising a bit, opens up a text field - to his club promoter. He ignores the dozens of texts from family members over the last few weeks. He’ll make his yearly obligation call to his mother at some point.

Hey, Mike! Can we upgrade to V.I.P tonight? I can put $2K down now.

He’ll thank you later. Tonight, he’s the hero of his friend group. A slight nervousness prickles on his neck. Harry isn’t naive - he knows he should be smarter with his money - your money. But you haven’t given him any reason to believe the well will run dry any time soon.

So far, despite your generosity, Harry still lives paycheck to paycheck. He blows his money on extravagant trips, nights out at the club, and plenty of booze and coke. It’s times he hopes to look back on one day and smile. He swears to you he’s saving the money and working towards investing and buying a house.

Scout’s honor.

I got a real bad feeling, I'ma let her down Got a hole in my pocket and I'm running around Spending all of her money on drugs and things To keep my mind from runnin' Back to the hole that I came from

Every night that he steps out of his apartment, he shakes the nagging feeling in his gut, the embodiment of the life he left behind. He calls his Uber Black to take him to the Viper, his little white baggy in the breast pocket of his Burberry overcoat.

He nods to the driver when he opens his door and proceeds to pour a small line of the substance onto the screen of his phone, but not without seeing another text from you.

Mrs. Robinson 🤍: Enjoy the night, sweet boy! Be safe xo

Harry smiles to himself at your contact in his phone. You all but had a fit when you found out he’d never seen The Graduate. Once he saw it, his world changed.

Swiping away your message, he plugs up his nostril, inhaling sharply as he moves his face over the surface of the screen. He grunts lightly, throwing his head back and shaking it out. That should hold him over until they’re in their secluded area of the club.

The car pulls up to the club around 11:45, the house music already bumping. The line looks brutal. He scans it to see if he spots any 10s waiting that can keep him company later. Miles, Marquise and Jade are already inside at their table.

The bouncers greet Harry, bumping his fist and patting him on the back. He can feel the eyes of the nobodies in line glaring at him enviously. When you spend the average person’s salary in one night at the club, you eagerly reap the benefits.

As he’s escorted through the crowd by the five-foot-nothing hostess, his senses are on high alert. He can hear his heart beating over the music and can feel the bass shaking the floors. He smiles tightly at the girl as she leads him to his table and scurries back into the crowd.

Marquise and Miles, his best friends from undergrad stand to greet him, as Jade greets him from the lap of her catch of the day, a burly, bearded dude already glowing from sweat and the 8-ball they’re about to dig into.

Taking his first swig of the Don Julio his regular bottle service girl, Tasia, pours into his mouth, he cracks a wicked smile, convincing himself there’s no where else he’d rather be.

Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back

“So,” you start quietly on your daily FaceTime coffee date. You’re perched in your home library’s windowsill. “I was thinking of flying you in for my 40th. It’s going to be pretty chill. I’ll probably hire a chef and have a dinner at my place. Maybe 15-20 people.”

Harry is cocooned in a blanket on his bed, his iced coffee you had DoorDashed to his apartment slowly melting on his bedside table. His eyes had slowly drifted shut as he listened to you talk about everything and nothing. That’s how these things went — you talk and he listens. You’re after his companionship, after all.

At your words, his eyes shoot open, causing him to try and sit up gently so he can hear you better, not believing what you’re saying. Inhaling, he hesitates before he starts to reply.

“Uh, um,” he bites his lip and looks at himself in the corner of the screen, trying to gauge if he looks as shocked as he sounds. “W-when are you thinking? I have a couple trips coming up and plans with my friends.”

He decides to play it cool. You have to know this is a huge development in this arrangement, right?

“Well, my birthday is the 27th, obviously.”

He scoffs, “I knew that part, Miss. When is the party?”

“Watch the ‘tude, baby. I was hoping for that Saturday, maybe. But I’d be willing to work around what you have coming up.”

He’s lying through his teeth. He doesn’t have major travel plans until the summer, when his friend group will jet off to Greece. He’s been saving up your pennies to charter a private plane.

“Don’t agree to it now, but please think about it. I love spending time with you and I’d love to finally meet you. We can tell my family that you’re part of one of my philanthropy groups. I’m your largest donor, after all,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“Okay, let me get myself together for the day, and I can see what’s going on,” Harry grits out, trying not to let you down.

“Okay, baby. Have a good day. Let me know if you get up to anything fun,” you say with a mild hurt in your tone. The least he can do is make an effort to finally meet you.

“Will do. Bye, Miss,” He says quietly, swiftly hanging up the call and chucking the phone towards his pillows.

“Fuck!”

Hm, Casanova You know that I'm a casanova Throw my pennies in the well Waking up in jail 'Cause I never paid attention Do you remember all the good times? Do you remember all the bad times too? She reminds me everyday, telling me to behave And no I never listened

You didn’t let him off the hook that easily. Every day that passes as your birthday party looms, you mention flights, or activities you can do once he arrives. Harry laughs them off, distracting you by touching himself or telling a story from his gatherings with friends.

It’s not until you’re barking orders at him over the phone, 1 week before your party, denying his orgasm that he finally relents.

“Miss, please, I-I need to cum,” he whimpers as he has a ghostly touch over his angry, red cock. “P-please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything, hm? I want my pretty baby at my birthday party. Wanna show you off and whisper filthy things in your ear and feel that pretty cock under the table. Agree to fly out to me and I’ll let you cum, baby.”

“Miss,” he croaks out, his stomach in shambles trying to stop himself from coming for the third time. “Okay, okay, Mama, I’ll go. I-I’ll come for your birthday! Please let me cum.”

You all but squeal in delight, instructing him to finally let go. Talking him through it, he keens from your praises for following the rules. A nervous heat travels up his neck, realizing what he agreed to in his post-nut clarity.

“Good boy. Take a picture before you clean up, okay? I’ll talk to you in the morning and I’ll have my assistant send over your travel information.”

He nods, unable to make eye contact. You’re oblivious and overjoyed, thinking he’s just too fucked out to look at you.

“G’night, Missy,” he chokes out.

“Goodnight, sweet boy,” you hum before hanging up.

Harry snaps a photo of his messy left fist and cum-covered stomach before cleaning himself up and returning to bed. He eagerly picks up his phone to check his dating apps for his matches. He’d been talking to a new girl, Madelyn, for the past week, so excitement bubbles in his stomach.

She’s meeting him and his regular group at the Viper tonight, so he’s excited to show off to her. Maybe she’ll even be down for a romp in the back seat of his Porsche.

His phone pings, signaling another deposit from you.

Y/N L/N paid Harry Styles - $5,000 - Can’t wait to see you 😘

He smiles, his right thumb picking at the skin of his ring finger. The guilt he feels from abusing your kindness starts to eat at him. But he didn’t get this far by being nice to people. You can’t possibly have feelings for him, right? You haven’t even met, for god’s sake. He shivers, shaking the feeling so he can focus on the night ahead.

Pushing you far, far in the back of his mind.

It’s now the night before your 40th birthday party, and you’re buzzing with excitement. Your penthouse is decorated in pink and floral frill - almost like your Great Aunt Gertrude exploded - but it’s chic and will be a hit amongst your New York City socialite friends. Your party planner floats around the room, puttering with the florals, candles and gem stones scattered around.

You anxiously check the time, counting down the hours until Harry boards his flight from LA. He’s jumping on a red eye, so you’ll greet him with coffee and donuts when he lands. A pang of nervousness hits you as you remember how distant he was this week, saying he was busy with friends or doing god knows what an unemployed 23 year old does in Los Angeles.

Monday, 3:31 PM

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Sorry, missy. I’ve been at Miles’ art showing all day.

Wednesday, 11:27 AM

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Sorry! At the gym with Do Not Disturb on. Hey, can you send me some cash? Last min car maintenance 😢

Friday, 5:58 PM

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Hi missy. My friends want to go to the opening of the new Carbone out here. Think your friends can get us a table? It’ll be 9 of us.

Hope your dad’s chemo appointment went okay.

You can’t be mad at the little monster you’ve let him become. You are always an after thought as his only priority is making sure the cash cow is alive and well. He extends effort just enough to make the butterflies in your stomach reappear when he does give you the attention you crave.

Inhaling deeply, you ascend up the grand staircase in your Upper East Side brownstone and begin your pampering routine, sending photos to Harry of the hydrating eye patches on and curlers in your hair, blowing kisses and sticking out your tongue.

Typically, Harry answers relatively quickly to your silly messages, but, tonight, he’s gone radio silent. Maybe he’s trying to conserve his phone battery for the flight?

You open your medicine cabinet to examine your fast-acting anti-anxiety pills, hoping you can will away this uneasy feeling. Padding over to your bed, you pop your pills before tucking into your silk sheets. Before putting your phone on the charger, you send Harry one last message.

Mrs. Robinson 🤍: Safe flight, baby ♥️ I’ll be tracking you, but tell me which terminal when you land. Can’t wait to see you 😚

Flicking out the light, you close your eyes with the hopes of finally meeting your lover in just twelve hours.

I got a real bad feeling I'ma lose my cool Everywhere that I go, everything that I do Stop me using the money on drugs and things To keep my mind from runnin'

Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back

Ping!

Harry, Delta airlines can’t wait to welcome you aboard Flight 0723 to JFK, departing 18:35

Ping!

You may now board Flight 0723 to JFK, departing 18:35. Welcome aboard, Harry.

Harry’s leg is bouncing uncontrollably as he watches the busy bodies move around him. Despite his social butterfly nature, his social anxiety rears its ugly head every once in a while. Or, it could be tonight’s concoction of pills.

He places his phone on Do Not Disturb, just as he gets a text from you. Closing his eyes in defeat, he comes face to face with the awful, shameful and downright despicable choice he’s made.

He’s not going to New York.

Instead, he’s standing booth side at a club next to John Summit, his favorite DJ, as he passes around a bottle of 1942. The pills he’s on are plastering a wide smile on his face as the throng of bodies around him jump around, despite the absolute panic and guilt he feels in his veins.

He’s wondering when you’ll realize he’s not coming. The lack of texts? The empty escalator to the pick-up area well after the flight has landed? He can picture your cherub cheeks reddening with embarrassment, fighting back hot tears.

To distract himself, he leans down to capture the blonde girl to his left in a kiss, despite not even making eye contact with her prior. When she peers up at him, her pupils are just as dilated as his as they sway back and forth.

He kisses her once more, just as Marquise offers him another baggie.

The panic sets in about 30 minutes after his flight landed. Surely that’s enough time to grab his bag and meet you here, right?

Your eyes urgently scan over every person that walks by probably sending them into fight or flight as a deranged woman looks them over in search for her boy.

You look down at your phone, the background a photo of your dog, completely clear of any notifications. With vigor, you throw out the box of donuts and his iced black Americano. Swallowing your pride, you skulk back to the parking lot to cry in the safety of your car.

You feel like a loser. A pathetic middle-aged woman who got fooled by a man half her age. The mental gymnastics that takes place as you drive home with white knuckles on the steering wheel should have you committed.

Your dating life wasn’t easy. It started in high school, where you were invisible to the boys, always deemed not good enough to date. Extending through college, you were still nearly invisible, working over time to find just one guy to have any interest in you and take your virginity. Just to get it over with.

As the dating scene expanded in your 20s, you still struck out with men your age. It wasn’t until your late 30s when your hopes and dreams of a family came crashing down on you that you’d made that godforsaken dating profile.

You still remember how your heart skipped a beat when you saw Harry’s photo for the first time. His boyish charm was palpable, followed by his incredibly witty prompt answers. He was your solution. If you couldn’t earn someone’s love, you could at least buy it.

The lump in your throat is preventing you from calling him and leaving the fiery voicemail you so want to do. You assume he’ll ignore any calls from you anyway.

Pulling into your private garage, you let out your frustrations by wailing and smacking the steering wheel of your Bentley. To prying eyes, the cops should be called. You allow yourself to flip for 5 minutes before putting on a brave face and going inside to begin getting ready for your birthday party, ringing in another year of heartbreak and disappointment.

3 glasses of a 1982 Cabernet Sauvignon. That’s how much alcohol it took to have you crying in front of your friends and family.

You couldn’t tell them what was really wrong, of course. They have no idea about your and Harry’s arrangement. They’d call you an idiot if they knew how much money you’ve sent him.

Everyone is shooting you sympathetic looks as you cry on your best friend’s shoulder. For all they know, you’re stressed with work and your dad’s cancer diagnosis. It’s a lot of pressure on a single woman.

Rubbing your back, Candice whispers all the affirmations she’s been telling you since college. It’s incredibly annoying to get advice from someone whose life is perfect.

You quietly thank her, clearing your throat of the lump that’s formed. Looking around the room, you make a break for it, grabbing your phone as you lock yourself in the guest bathroom.

Tears blurring your vision, you dial his number for the first time all day. It rings and rings, finally sending you to voicemail, as you’d suspected.

You’re silent for a beat after the beep.

“I-I don’t even have words for how I’m feeling right now. I was so fucking excited to see you…feel you….kiss you. And instead I’m locked in a bathroom at my own birthday party, calling you like a fucking loser,” you start, snot threatening to drip down your face.

“I give, and I give and I give, and yet you still let me look like a fucking idiot in front of my friends and family. You couldn’t do one fucking thing for me? You…You didn’t even have to put any effort. I paid for a car service, paid for a first-class seat, bought you a wardrobe…”

“I just hope whatever the fuck you’re doing right now is worth it. I don’t ask questions about what you do with my money, since I’m the one who started this. B-but I thought you were a decent person. I feel so fucking stupid right now,” you are talking to yourself at this point. You shakily inhale and stare at the ceiling.

“We’re done. I’m done with your bullshit. I’m not gonna let some ungrateful brat take advantage of me anymore. Have a nice life, Harry. Hope you have to move back to bumblefuck and lose all the friends you’ve been lying to this whole time,” you end off the message with pure venom leaking through your words.

You press end, feeling slightly better that you’d used his deepest darkest secret as ammunition. The mirror in front of you shows a shocking picture; running mascara, watery, red eyes, and disheveled hair.

Patting some toilet paper under your eyes, you clean up the best you can before returning back to the party. If you were strong, you’d block his number. But you can’t help but wonder what his response could be.

He deserves it. It’s 4:40 AM and he just mustered the courage to listen to your message. His under eyes feel heavy as he listens to your words, hitting him where it hurts. His hands are shaking as he lowers the phone to his lap, drowning out the sound of your sad, heartbreaking voice.

5 years ago, he was a decent person. Now, he looks in the mirror and sees his slightly gaunt face and tired eyes staring back at him. He even notices a few gray hairs every once in a while.

His lifestyle takes a toll on him — He’s well aware of that. But for now, he has no reason to stop. Harry lightly smacks his head back on the seat of the Uber back to his apartment. Cracking the window, he lets the sounds of the early morning deter him from vomiting.

The car arrives at his apartment — a guest house in Hidden Hills, the only place he can afford with the zip code he desires so badly. He never brings anyone to his place, too paranoid of his secrets getting out. Vision doubling, he struggles to stick his key in the lock. He knees the door has he twists the knob, sending him tumbling flat on his face.

Smacking his head on the tile floor, he recoils, lifting his hand to feel droplets of blood on his nose and bottom lip. The metallic taste is leaking into his mouth, sending him into a spiral. His front door is still wide open, allowing him to see the sun peaking over the hills in the distance.

He crawls over to the threshold, slamming the door shut with his foot. He lays back down on the cool floor, exhausted from his efforts. His breathing evened out, lulling him into a comatose state before succumbing to the darkness.

But before he passes out, all he can picture is your gorgeous, disappointed face.

I'm back in the hole I got nowhere to go La la la la, la, la Spinning around In the cold dark hole deep down in the ground Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from

The thing about rock bottom is that you don’t realize you’ve hit it until you’re clawing your way back to the top.

In the days following your fallout, Harry’s experienced enough misfortunes to last a lifetime. It started off with his credit card declining on a $6 breakfast sandwich, only to come back hungry and sad to his car being repossessed in front of all the Hidden Hills housewives out and about.

The panic rises in his chest, and it’s taking everything in him not to call you and beg for forgiveness. He’s come to realize how fucked up his actions towards you became. He misses the butterflies and longing he felt when you first started your arrangement.

He stomps back inside, miserable and feeling like a loser. If it wasn’t for Marquise’s birthday party later, he’d be sure to go dive in the ocean in hopes of never resurfacing.

His closet is taunting him — full of the clothes you’ve bought him. He can remember every single piece he tried on for you, and the praise you were so quick to give him. He never reciprocated when you’d show him new pieces and showing off your incredible body. But, you hadn’t called him out on it, so he continued on.

The all black outfit he chose reflects his mental state. Filled with dread and remorse, he pulls out his kitchen drawer to peruse the substances he has left. His stash is dwindling as fast as his bank account, so he has to be strategic until he figures out his next move.

Grabbing the baggies, he situates them in the breast pocket of his jacket to conceal everything. They’re going to a new club tonight, so there’s no being saved by the bouncers if shit goes south.

The party goes off without a hitch. Bottles pouring, dancers hanging from the ceiling, and an influx of out of town girls willing to do anyone and anything. Harry has nearly pushed you completely out of his mind, but he does something completely out of character.

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: I’m sorry.

You’re at a wine bar with your girlfriends in the Village, and the message you receive shakes you to your core. You haven’t heard from him in days. Not even after you repossessed the car and canceled his credit card tied to your account. You thought for sure that would smoke him out of his foxhole. But, he’s Harry. He’s selfish and too full of pride to ever come forward and apologize.

Your friends notice the faltered look on your face, but opt to ignore it as they bitch about their husbands and kids. Despite your fleeting dreams of having a family, most of the time you’re thankful you can’t relate to them.

Turning off your phone, you throw it in your new Kelly bag — a little treat to get over the heartbreak — and return to the conversation.

He doesn’t even remember how it went down.

The last clear memory he has is being escorted out of the club to go back to Marquise’s. The combination of coke and alcohol, plus this week’s tumultuous events had him on edge, so when the unfamiliar bouncer at this mediocre club grabbed him wrong, it sent Harry into a frenzy.

To match his bloody nose and busted lip, his knuckles are now decorated with crusty amber smatterings of blood — his own, and the bouncer’s. His jaw and wrist were aching, still mouthing off like a rabid animal as the cop read him his Miranda rights.

So now, he sits in a cold cell in the county jail awaiting his arraignment — a seemingly straight forward assault and battery charge, now amplified by the 40 grams of cocaine and Adderall in his coat pocket. The bastard cop smiled to himself when he patted him down. Harry will give him this one, the rinkydink small town cop who is used to giving out traffic violations.

Tired, in dire need to piss, and on the verge of a mental breakdown, Harry’s head snaps up when the officer notifies him of his bail — a measly $75,000 — and lets him know he has one phone call. Balling his fists, he looks up at the ceiling.

“Fuck!”

The cop assists him in standing up. His wrists are chained together behind his back, after all. Releasing him from the confines, Harry rubs his wrists where the cheap metal chafed him.

“You have 5 minutes to make a call. Do you know the phone number or do you need me to access your cell phone?”

Harry scoffs. Who the fuck still memorizes phone numbers?

“Phone,” he replies, a clear edge in his voice.

“Whose contact am I looking for? Mom, Dad?”

“Fuck’s sake. No, I need the number of,” Harry pauses suddenly as he remembers your name in his phone.

“Mrs. Robinson,” he finishes quietly.

The cop raises his eyebrows, but says nothing, and reads the number aloud to him. It rings, and rings, diminishing any hope that you’ll answer. It’s in this moment Harry is at his rockbottom.

“Hello?”

“This is a collect call from the Department of Corrections for the City of Los Angeles. An individual is trying to contact you. Do you wish to answer?”

You gasp as the automated voice informs you of your worst nightmare.

“Hello?” you say quietly. It’s 8:15 AM, and you’re at the cafe on the corner for a latte and reading, trying not to disturb those around you.

“M-missy?” His voice sounds broken. It sends a stabbing pain straight through your chest.

“Harry, what happened? What did you do?”

“I-I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. N-not just with you. I know I fucked everything u-up,” he’s starting to sob, unable to catch his breath between words.

“B-but I got into a pretty bad fight last night, and I had some,” Harry pauses to look over his shoulder to make sure the officer isn’t listening. He wipes the tears in his eyes with his thumb. “I had some stuff on me, so now I’m in a lot more trouble. A-and I know I fucked everything up and I don’t deserve anything from you, but I don’t have enough money for bail.”

You sigh, not really even sure where to begin. Tears are threatening to spill over as you hear his clearly broken sobs.

“How much do you need?”

At this point, Harry hung his head at your silence. He snaps his head back up when you agree to help him.

“It’s $75,000.”

“Jesus, Harry, what the fuck did you do?”

“I don’t even know, I barely have any memory of—”

“Five minutes, inmate!” the officer interrupts him.

Harry rolls his eyes and continues.

“I’m not sure what happens next. B-but thank you, Y/N. I know I don’t deserve this in the slightest.”

You shiver at his use of your first name. Closing your eyes, “I know you don’t. Just tell me who I need to call.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mutter as you hear your incessant doorbell ring. It’s 6 in the morning, just a few days after you paid Harry’s bail. You’ve been laying low, unsure if you’ll even hear from him again.

Your doorman, Paul, informs you of a visitor. A visitor? At this time? Unable to even comprehend what’s going on, you press the button to confirm opening the door, and wait.

Your bunny slippered feet tap your coffee table anxiously. Is it your mom? Here to inform you of someone’s death? Or is it your best friend from college who couldn’t come to your party? Or is it —

You’re broken from your racing thoughts as a timid knock on the door echoes through the house. You shuffle hesitantly over to the door, unable to even bring yourself to look through the peephole.

Closing your eyes while pulling open the door, the absolute wind is knocked out of you as you eye up your waiting guest.

He’s tall, tanned and gorgeous as his photos. It’s unfair to look like this after stepping off what she assumes was a red eye flight. He looks exhausted. His lip and nose are busted, and he has a yellowing bruise on his left eye.

“W-what?” you flounder in disbelief.

His hands fold together at your reaction, unsure if he should hug you or keep a respectable distance. He opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself. He’ll play by your rules.

“What the fuck is going on?”

You look adorable. The sleep barely wiped from your eyes. Slight bed head and disheveled silk pajamas. Harry is in disbelief that this is the woman he’s come to realize his feelings for.

“I know this is so fucked up,” he trails off. “Coming here. I don’t deserve even a minute of your time, but I needed to come here and tell you how fucking sorry I am. How deep into the superficial bullshit I got. I took advantage of you and your kindness and I lost myself in the process.”

You must look flabbergasted, because he inches closer, placing his hands gently on your arms. His touch is searing, but the first reminder that he’s actually standing in front of you and not an extremely lifelike apparition.

“I-I,” you stumble.

“We don’t even have to talk right now. You can send me away, if you need. But I’m here, I’m here in New York and I want to change. I want to be better for you. These last few days— when I had absolutely nothing — made me realize something.”

His eyes are now earnest and starting to tear up. Your reflection is so clear in his tide pool green irises.

“I had nothing, and it made me realizing you’re my everything.”

His profession had you clutching your metaphorical pearls. Your heart is racing, sending your central nervous system into a tizzy. You know he’s not lying, because he’s looking dead in your eyes waiting for your reply.

“H-Harry, I don’t even know what to say,” you stall. Your body knows what it wants to say.

“I know and like I said, if you need time, I underst—”

“If you’re here and you’re not bullshitting me; you really want to change. Then, you’ll fuck me like it.”

If Harry’s jaw could drop to the basement, it would. Instead of word vomiting, he lunges forward, guiding both of your bodies back to the hallway and placing a panty-dropping kiss on your lips. He doesn’t even have time to admire your beautiful home.

You break the kiss, grabbing his wrist to lead him to your room. The sheets are mussed, your clothes are all over, but you can’t even begin to fucking care. You all but dive back onto your bed, pulling your nightgown up to reveal your bare, perfect pussy.

Harry drops to his knees, wrapping his hands around your thighs. The photos and the FaceTimes don’t do any justice to the sight in front of him. You’re complete and utter perfection.

He waits for your approval before leaning forward to lick from back to front. Your back arches slightly, throwing your ankles over his shoulder. His fingertips dig into your skin deliciously, so you grab onto your blankets for dear life.

“Give it to me, Missy. I’ve been waiting two years for this perfect cunt. What the fuck was I waiting for?”

You laugh, not expecting his sense of humor at this moment. For the last few months, it’s been like talking to a robot. It was an exchange of goods and services. But here, in front of you, is a man. A man who’s willing to change his ways for you. The man you’ve waited all your life for.

“Always here for you. It’s yours,” you purr, placing your hands on top of his.

He growls, vigorously licking into you. He removes his right hand to insert his two middle fingers into your center. This has you howling, unable to even remember the last time a man did this for you.

“Baby, baby. I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum for you, finally,” you whine, focusing on the immeasurable pleasure stemming from your legs.

“Mhm, I can feel you, Mama. Let go for me,” he begs, making direct eye contact with you.

It’s the moment you lock eyes that you’re letting go. All the stars are aligning and symphonies are playing in your head.

“Ah, ah! There, Harry!”

Harry keens at hearing his name roll off your tongue. He slides up your body to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself. You grab at his under shirt, insinuating that you want it off.

He peels it off and cheekily pulls your tit out of your nightie. He winks before connecting his lips to your nipple, rolling his tongue around the bud and sucking gently.

“Please, want you inside me. Gimme my big cock, baby.”

“It’s yours, Mama. All of me.”

Harry slides his briefs down his legs, revealing the main event. His dick swings slightly before hitting him in the stomach. You moan, unable to wait even another minute for him.

“Please,” you cry out, scratching down his chest.

He lines himself up, moaning in ecstasy as he pushes in. Your mouth falls open, a silent whine escaping.

“So big, baby. I should’ve flown out to you the minute you sent me a dick pic. Like a fucking middle schooler.”

Now Harry is laughing. He’s in disbelief that he would ever treat you the way he did. The clarity from the last few days is damning.

His pumps are getting faster and longer, bottoming out every other thrust. He looks down to where you’re connected, your pussy lips wrapped around him deliciously, a slight white substance leaking out of you. He leans down to kiss you, wanting this connection he’s subconsciously wanted since he met you.

“Want you to cum with me, Missy. Cum with me. Want to show you I mean it. I mean everything I said.”

You gently put your hand on his cheek, to which he immediately nuzzles in at the touch.

“I know you mean it, baby. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

He nods, leaning down to kiss you again, his thrusts slowing but still ramming you to the hilt.

“You close?”

“Yes, baby boy. Cum with me, I’m cumming now.”

Harry’s cock twitches as he bumps your walls before releasing long and deep into you. You push your noses together, lips ghosting over one another’s.

Harry is finally home.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for this, little brat.”

He flashes a shit eating grin, kissing you again.

“I expect nothing less.”

And I don't ever Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back

#harry styles #harrystyles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x yn #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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nackrosor · 11 months

Text

~Magic Hands~

𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 '𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽' 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

warnings/tags: smut, massage, hurt/comfort, female receiving, v. fingering, soft Ghost, romantic tension, the room is packed with your mates so you have to keep quiet hehe

synopsis: in the aftermath of a rough mission, you find yourself unable to fall asleep due to muscle aches. Your Lieutenant offers to help you release the tension by giving you a massage, which escalates rather quickly.

word count: 4,1k.

[a/n: finally writing for my man Ghost and I'm quite proud of how this first story turned out. Now I'm curious to know what you think of it! Also, this wasn't beta-read so if there's any typo/grammatical error, let me know. Alright, enjoyyyyy 🌶️✨💀]

"You can't sleep?"

Ghost's deep hushed voice coming from somewhere behind you makes you turn in your bedroll. The room is nearly pitch black, with only a sliver of moonlight streaming in through the half-closed window, yet providing enough light to make your close surroundings visible. Therefore, when you turn around, you can see Ghost sitting on the floor a few feet away from you, his back to the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest and legs stretched straight in front of him. The thin dark gray t-shirt, paired with the intense chiaroscuro that imbues the room, highlights the outline of his massive biceps. Your eyes linger on his arms before they meet his, which twinkle slightly as they capture the moonshine.

"You neither?"

He hums in response.

A weary sigh escapes you as you sprawl on your back, hand flying to the nape of your neck, where the muscles tug and burn. You feel like a wreck. You knew today’s operation would have been rough, even more than the last ones and you were prepared for it, you had trained so hard for months. You've risked your own skin multiple times during the offensive, although in the end you got away with only a scratch or two; nothing major. You were still high on adrenaline as you made it back to the base camp -a dilapidated temporary facility in the middle of a thick forest- and you were even rather impressed of yourself for having handled it all so well… until fatigue came crushing on you like a double-decker bus, almost knocking you to your knees and you felt the magnitude of the efforts made in all its gravity. You tried to mask it as you dined with your brothers in arms, a scarce sorry meal that didn’t even quench a third of your appetite, then instantly dragged your 200 pounds heavier than normal legs to the storage room adapted for sleeping and flopped down on your bed roll. You thought the ache would pass, that you only needed to lie down and let your limbs rest but it has already been three or four hours since then and you haven’t been able to close your eyes not even once.

"Everything aches so much. I might have strained a muscle or something. Possibly all of them."

Ghost hums again in understanding. A moment of silence follows; silence only interrupted by the rhythmic snoring of your mates, laying in their bedrolls all around you in the tiny room.

"Come here."

Your head snaps up.

"Uh?"

"You heard me. We need to do something about those sore muscles. Can't allow them to get in the way of the mission tomorrow."

You look questioningly at him, eyes roaming over his masked face, as if expecting to be able to read his intentions. What can he do for you? The same as he can do for himself, which is pretty much nothing; he’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you to suck it up. If only there was a medic in the facility, you could have asked for an injection to ease the tension in your body but alas, you're on your own down here, equipped with no instant medication other than a pack of analgesics reserved for battle and a pain drug; but there's no way you'd take one on a night before a mission and risk waking up as a zombie in the morning.

You’d have to wait for a proper medical treatment when you’re out of this hell, assuming you’re still in one piece by then.

“We don’t have all night, Sergeant.”

Ugh, using your title, of course. It can only mean the Lieutenant won’t accept a refusal from you. And who are you to refuse anyway? Just a lower soldier in pain; nothing special about you.

Even though you are still perplexed about his intentions, you scoot toward him, crawling silently so as to not wake up the others. Fortunately you don’t have to step on someone’s lying body to reach your superior.

He spreads his legs to give you room to get closer and you swallow the thrill that inflames your body at the sight of that big hunk of a man welcoming you in his lap. This is not the time to give in to such fantasies. Nor there will ever be. Hard truth.

Ghost’s fingers masterly find the waistband of your cargo trousers and tug at it to make you slide closer.

"Turn around."

His commanding voice compels you to do as he says without question. There's no room for hesitation when he employs that tone; you must obey his directives, whether you're on the field on a mission or killing time at the HQ. Nobody can stand up to it, least of all you.

You’re barely able to suppress a gasp when you feel his huge hands take hold of your hips and settle you between his thighs, your back colliding with his firm chest. You can't, however, physically stop the shiver that runs down your spine as his palms climb up your sides, sliding upward over your back, causing you to bend slightly forward as he reaches your shoulders. There, he begins to knead your muscles carefully, knowing where to apply more pressure and where to let the tip of his fingers do most of the work.

You’re too stunned to speak. Never in a million years you would have guessed this is what he had in mind to do to help you. Ghost, your Lieutenant, has his hands on you, in a room full of fellow soldiers, in the middle of the night while you are on duty. What crazy-ass dream is this?

"Ghost-," you shudder, his hands working on a particularly sore spot, "a m-massage, seriously?"

“What?”

“They only make things worse-”

While having Ghost do it is a whole new experience for you, you've received your fair share of massages, both throughout your years of training and after you became a special agent and they never seemed to work on you. They always left you in more pain than you were in before. You could have blamed it on the medic if only you hadn’t changed so many during the past years; they couldn't all have been incompetent, could they?

"You never got one from me, innit? They don't call me magic hands for nothing."

You frown, throwing him a sideway glance over your shoulder.

"Nobody calls you that."

You hear him huff and your head is forced back to face straight by a firm nudge.

As strange and unexpected as it may seem, you must admit that his hands are truly doing Lord’s work against your shoulders, easing your tensed muscles and relieving some pain, so much so that you find yourself closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"See? Just relax."

His hands scoot lower, sliding down your back and sides, resting just above your bum. The warmth of his palms rubbing that sore area in circular motions sends more shivers up your spine. In his ascent back up, he pays attention to the tensed muscles of your arms, thumbs kneading deep into them and then finally, he goes back to your neck. Your breath catches at the feeling of his strong hands wrapping around it. His firm touch appears to arouse something primal within you. You can feel heat pooling in your core right away.

"Fucking hell. Your neck is rock hard."

He increases the pressure, rubbing the skin and working on the knots. His thumbs slide up and down your larynx, matching the movement of his other fingers on the nape. Your head bends backward on its own, landing on his chest.

Ghost hums again, appreciatively.

"You liking it?"

"Y-yes, sir-"

His chest shakes softly against your back, a light rumble coming from his throat.

"Good girl."

You bite back a gasp. Those hushed words only add to the growing ache between your legs. The massage is clearly starting to turn you on and you feel… conflicted. You know you shouldn’t let his skillful touch, nor his raspy voice whispering so close to your ear or the warmth of his chest pressed against your back affect you so much. However, you are basically caged in his lap, how are you supposed to not let that cloud your judgment? To not allow your fantasies to run wild in your head? Yes, you’re strong, but… not that strong. You can’t possibly stop your body from reacting so naturally to all of these overwhelming sensations. Especially when you’re so touch-starved, and having Ghost being the one to indulge your craving doesn’t help in the slightest.

" Mh, you're tensing up again."

Ghost swiftly resumes working on your back, placing the palm of each hand on either side of your spine and working his way up, keeping his hands parallel to one another. When he reaches the top of your back, he fans his hands outwards across the shoulders, as if outlining the top of a heart. Using a kneading motion, he returns to the lower of your back to work the large muscles on either side of your spine then presses his fingertips firmly into your flesh before quickly releasing as he works his way up. The constant pressing and releasing sends your spine tingling and you fail to hold back a moan.

“Yes. Don’t fight it.”

If only he knew what you were actually fighting against. How can the tension leave your body if his touch and his closeness and his voice are all working so hard together to make you tense up all the more?

You feel his hands close into fists and his knuckles start to rub gently but firmly across the tops of your shoulders and then glide down your biceps, the inner part of your arms, the side of your chest...

Inadvertently, your body jerks at the new sensation, and his hand accidentally brushes up against your breast, fingers knocking into the slight bulge in your top caused by your aroused nipple. You stifle the moan that erupts from your throat by biting your bottom lip hard, your body stiffening instantaneously.

Silence falls into the room, coating it in tension; your mates are not even snoring anymore. You don’t dare to move a muscle, you can barely keep your ragged breathing under control.

Has he noticed? Does he realize what has just happened? It’s so dark in here and it all happened so quickly, he may have no idea what he has just touched, he may have not caught the lewd sound that came out of your mouth, either. Your body has tensed so much, however, that your reaction must have caught his attention. Any doubt goes out the window when you feel his hands retract and his body shift uncomfortably behind you.

Well, fuck it . You just had to make it awkward, didn’t you? For both of you! How embarrassing. He will look at you and treat you differently from now on, you know it already. You're soldiers, for god’s sake! You're professionals! And he’s your superior! These things shouldn’t happen! They should stay out of work. And to think that you've managed to get this far, despite Ghost's strong magnetic pull on you since the first time you saw him... You’ve hidden your emotions so well for months. But unfortunately, no matter how hard you try and succeed at hiding it, you can’t really control your body and how it reacts to his presence, touch, or gaze. This was bound to happen sooner or later, as much as you prayed it wouldn’t. Besides, how could you have even imagined you would find yourself in such a crazy situation at one point? Working with him every day, getting very physical on the field and still keeping your emotions at bay was already enough to drive you insane. There was no way you could have handled this and came out victorious.

But perhaps you could still salvage this somehow, or at the very least escape the horrible truth-spilling conversation that awaits you. Yes, it is possible. You simply need to get the hell away from Ghost, crawl back to your bedroll, attempt to sleep it off, and put the burden aside to deal with it another day. Easier said than done.

Your hands fumble around you, hoping to meet the cold tiles of the floor -rather than those god-like legs stretched at either side of you- and you bend forward in an attempt to hoist yourself up.

“A-alright, this has been nice-”

A steel-strong arm snakes around your middle and forcefully pulls you back. You gasp as your spine collides with his chest once more.

Now that you're pressed up against him, even closer than you were before, you can feel his bulge against your lower back and your mouth goes dry.

"Ghost-", your voice comes out in a loud, unsteady squick and he instantly hushes you, tightening the grip around your waist.

You feel his hot breath caress your ear even through the balaclava. “We’re not done here, yet.”

His hands start to travel up and down your body once again, bolder this time, skimming over areas he hasn't touched before. The hand wrapped around your middle slips under your tank top, fondling the smooth flesh at your side as it raises, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin, until it reaches the upper area of your stomach. There, his fingertips tease the lower curve of your breast from above the fabric of your sports bra. Your breath catches again but you don't dare to move. He holds his palm there for a long minute.

Is he testing you? Is he messing with you? Is he silently asking for permission to move forward? The affirmative guttural sound that rewards you as you finally throw your morals out the window and boldly place your hand over his and tug it upwards, sweeps away any doubt. His big hand instantly covers your whole breast, groping it gently at first then squeezing it decisively. His other hand comes to match the motion as they both slide inside the cups and fondle your soft sensitive flesh before turning the focus onto your erect nipples, causing you to arch your back forward and shiver.

“Is this-”, your voice catches in your throat as his fingers pinch your nipples hard, lips squeezing together to muffle a groan, “-why they call you magic hands ?”

You feel a light chuckle rumble in his chest and against your back.

“You catch up real quick, Sergeant…”, he whispers in your ear in that gravelly voice that makes you squirm, “...but you don’t know the half of it.” And as if on cue, one of his hands sneaks out of your tank top and slides down your stomach, skimming over the inseam of your pants and resting on your crotch, causing a warmth to spread from deep within your stomach. Two fingers push against your core, suggestively and your heart races. Your breaths are ragged in anticipation.

“Bet you’re desperate to find out, innit?”

You don’t even realize you’re nodding in response until you feel him huff a laugh through his nose, blowing cool air right next to your ear.

"Curiosity killed the cat, didn't you hear?"

His palm rubs against your crotch up and down a few times before giving it a firm squeeze.

You suck in air through your teeth and your hand lands on his thigh at your side, fingers dipping in his firm muscle.

" Please -"

You're not sure what you're even begging him for, your mind dazed with desire, and all you can focus on is the heady sensation of having his warm palm rest so close to your aching cunt but still denying you the touch you desperately crave for.

Ghost doesn't need you to say anything, he clearly knows what you're pleading for and he makes quick work of unzipping your pants before sliding his hand inside. His eager fingers meet your panties which are, unsurprisingly, already soaked; a small detail that he seems to appreciate greatly. He runs his digits over the wet patch on the fabric, eliciting a loud moan from you.

An abrupt stirring sound freezes you and your head snaps up, heart jumping in your throat, while your eyes dart across the room expecting to meet the shocked expression of one of your brothers. The thought of having been spotted however doesn't seem to stop Ghost from pushing his fingers beneath the damp fabric of your undies. You don't have time to still the violent beating of your heart as he begins to circle his way through your folds, instantly drawing back your whole attention. A harsh whine crawls up your throat when the pad of his finger meets your clitoris and his free hand immediately moves to cover your mouth. His clad lips suddenly draw close to your ear, skin tingling at the contact.

"You don't want to wake up the boys, do you, kitten?"

You shake your head profusely and he hums softly.

"Thought so."

You suppress the cries of pleasure that he provokes by rubbing his fingers up and down over your slit in a slow intoxicating way, your hips shaking with each swipe. He presses his forearm against your stomach to hold your body still, squeezing you closer to him as a result.

You wince as you hear it; the wet sound of your desire seems to be the only noise in the otherwise silent room and it only grows louder when Ghost teases your entrance, rubbing his pads around it before easily pushing two fingers inside. You screw your eyes shut and throw your head back against his chest. As he thrusts inside you in a steady rhythm, he presses his palm on your most sensitive part, and drags his hand in a firm circle against it. The feeling is dizzying and it sends lightning jolting through you.

Ghost's hand leaves your mouth to grab your inner thigh and push it over his adjacent knee, spreading your legs wide apart to gain better access to your core and thus shove his fingers deeper inside you. In fact, his next thrust perfectly hits that sacred spot buried deep between your walls and you grasp a fist of his t-shirt and pull it against your lips to muffle your whimpers, while your other hand tugs firmly at his tensed arm lying on your stomach.

You are close, so close. You can feel the heat in your gut begin to bubble and spread, scorching and hair-raising, to the rest of your quivering body. Ghost too seems to notice by the way you tuck into him and clutch at his arm as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded, your safe anchor. His fingers grab your chin and angle your head so that your eyes meet.

His eyes… his big eyes. The only visible part of his face, the only part you are allowed to lay your gaze on and let it linger. And oh, how beautiful they are. Especially now, glinting with moonshine and looking down at you with a special twinkle which you can’t quite decipher but that makes your heart swell.

You prompt yourself up in a daze, just enough to cup his cheek and pull him down to meet you in a quite unorthodox kiss. You press your lips desperately to his mask, just above his own and you feel them twitch at the contact, responding to the kiss only a moment later.

You stay like that while his hand still works against you, faster and sloppier but hitting you perfectly with each push. You keep your lips glued to his as the coiling pleasure in your belly finally snaps, a heady wave of pleasure washes over you and makes your body jerk uncontrollably. Your cries are muffled by the fabric of his mask, even more so when his hand cups the back of your neck and presses you harder against him. He continues to slowly dip his fingers inside your fluttering walls then litter your small bundle of nerves with a few more soft teasing caresses all the while subsiding your spasms with his strong embrace.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, your chest heaving hard, heart still racing and legs still shaking when his hand slips out of your pants and you pull back. You let your head rest on his chest as you take a deep long breath. Almost instantly a subdued ruffle of fabrics strikes your ear and you can feel a cool breath blowing on your neck before a pair of soft damp lips meet your boiling skin. You bite your lips at the shiver-inducing sensation; it feels like a vital secret shared in utmost confidence and you don’t dare break the touching moment until his lips retreat and the mask is safely put back on. Only then you chance a look up through a heavy-lidded gaze and you meet his beautiful eyes again, which in turn watch your reactions with a hazy, adoring gaze. All is forgotten; the packed room, the initial conflict you felt, the aching muscles… The only thing you can focus on is the tingling sensation abandoning your body, leaving the way to the heartening warmth of his embrace and gaze.

“Ghost-”

“Simon.”

You gulp, nodding feebly as you reverently search his eyes.

“Simon…”

Saying his name feels strange but also… meaningful. Like uttering a magic word or being handed the sole key that unlocks the armored door that keeps the treasure safe; treasure so priceless and vulnerable that only a few trusted people are allowed to take a glimpse at it.

“I’m-” you fail to find the words, mind dazed and heart hammering in your chest, “that was…”

“Kitten got more than she bargained for.”

You catch an amused hint in his voice and even if you can’t see it, you’re certain there is a smile tugging at his lips, for the corner of his eyes curl up slightly.

“I take it the massage didn't make things worse after all?”

"Well…", you shift in his embrace, turning to face him with a sheepish grin, "that was some effective massage, alright."

You prompt yourself up and reading your intentions he closes his legs to let you settle on his lap, your knees resting on either side of his hips. His eyes never leave yours as you lean up, arms latching around his neck.

"Nothing aches anymore thanks to you…", you grind your hips slowly down against his, relishing in the sound of his heavy breathing picking up, "...but maybe it's you now who is in need of a release ?" You bite your lip at the rousing feeling of his throbbing bulge rubbing against your still sensitive center, as well as at the rare thrilling satisfaction of seeing him crane his head slightly up to look at you.

His hands descend on your hips, fingers almost painfully gripping the flesh, causing you to groan.

"I wouldn't mind it one bit kitten, believe me…", his lust-clouded eyes rake over your body. You see him swallow hard as he glances down where your hips meet and a long breath escapes his lips. His gaze then trails back up, savoring every inch of you, until it finally locks with yours once again. "But you should hit the sack now."

Disappointment shows plainly on your face.

"But-"

"Besides, I'm on second watch tonight."

"T-That’s good! I can sneak out to keep you company. I'm not sleepy! Even less now than before. We can-"

" Negative .” His tone is peremptory and it shuts you up at once. “And don’t fret. You’ll be asleep before your head hits the mat.”

" But -"

His hands slide up your sides and squeeze your waist, pulling you down to sit on his thighs and hold you at eye level.

"We're taking a rain check, Sergeant."

The title again. His words are final, then.

A huge sigh escapes you and you nod at last. Reluctantly, you climb out of his lap, his hands following your every movement to support you. Before you stand on your feet and turn around, you chance one last look at him. Your heart swells as you meet once more his big beautiful eyes which look at you so gently, so wistfully… you think you can catch the promise behind them.

"Don't you dare die tomorrow, Simon."

The corners of his eyes curl up again.

"Surely not on your watch, Kitten."

MORE STORIES 🥀

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saltwaterburns · 5 months

Note

I have a request - "being comforted by Jace Wayland (JCB) would include:"

Merry Christmas btw :)

I could kiss you rn. Merry Christmas ❤️

Slightly ooc Jace?

Jace Wayland comforting you would include:

Hugs.

Did you see how both times he comforted Clary, he held her as close as physically possible, cradling her in his arms?

That's how he would hold you.

He finds you in the greenhouse, tucked away in a hidden corner you love to sneak away with him to

Sometimes to kiss, sometimes to..

You're curled up, back pressed against the wall, knees up against your chest

Your body is being constantly wrecked by sobs, your lungs aching from the lack of air you're getting

You're a mess. You can't see, you can't hear, you can't feel

It hurts. It hurts so bad and it only adds to the salty tears running down your blotchy cheeks

His heart feels like it's being squeezed with an iron fist. The longer he looks at you, the more his body hurts. It's worse than the burning ache of freshly drawn runes, it's worse than a demon bite

Kisses. So, so many kisses

He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands finding yours. He tangles your fingers together, bringing your hands up to his mouth, pressing little kisses over your knuckles

He's doing anything, everything to ground you, to bring you back to him

His lips are spewing words of comfort between each kiss

"Come on, darling."

"Breathe for me now, angel."

"It's okay, it's okay. I've got you, it's okay."

"You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Deep breaths for me, yeah?"

"There we go, just like that."

After a while, you start to calm down. Your heart slows, your lungs aren't constricted, blood isn't roaring in your ears

Despite that, your hands stay clasped together with his. You don't let go, even when he tries to pull away so he can wrap his arms around you

You bring his hands up to your face and hide. You kiss them, hide yourself from him in them. His hands are cool and it feels nice against your hot skin

He coos, sitting closer to you. His darling girl

He sits beside you and pulls you to his chest, somehow managing to sneak his hands free

He wraps his arms around you and holds you close, petting your hair, pressing kisses to your hairline, whispering little reassurances in your ear

You stay there with him for who knows how long. An hour, two, three

Neither of you cares. You stay sitting there, you in his embrace. His scent, clean and fresh, surrounds you, clouds your senses

It lulls you to sleep after a bit. Your head falls limp and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head

He brushes your hair back, away from your face. He tucks the strands behind your ears, wipes your cheeks dry. He presses little kisses under your eyes, now adorned with red circles

He is such a kissy boy you can't change my mind

"Good morning!" Kiss

"Are you okay??" Kiss

"You could've died." Kiss

"Please help me." Kiss

He kisses you to reassure himself. Reassuring you is just an amazing bonus

Kisses help to ground him, make him realise you're real and with him

Angels can't kiss anyone, but you're his angel and he kisses you

After the crying situation, he doesn't mention it again because you don't

But his lingering touches, gentle brushes of fingertips let you know that he is here and that he cares

You appreciate it more than anything. You don't want to talk about it, but you thank him with kisses of your own

His love language is physical touch for a reason

Mostly because he didn't get much of it as a boy

He doesn't like words, he can't figure them out

He also hates emotions. He thinks they're stupid and not really needed

But he cherishes everything he feels for you like an ancient relic that needs the best of the best protection

He's so sassy, too

If anyone asks what happened that night, be ready to get at least 3 comments thrown your way

"None of your business, thanks!"

"Since when did asking stupid questions become a shadowhunters job, enlighten me please."

"We did your mum. Fuck off."

It never fails to make you giggle

He flashes you a wink after every comment

He's like a 14 year old boy trying to impress an older girl

It works...

#shadowhunters #cassandra clare #jace wayland #jace herondale #jamie campbell x reader #jace wayland x reader #jace herondale x reader #jamie campbell bower #dating would include #would include #clary fairchild #clary morgenstern #lily collins #the shadowhuter chronicles #shadowhunters x reader #alec lightwood #izzy lightwood

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charmercharm3r · 1 year

Note

I saw you said you take requests and I just have not been able to get the thought of an agnsty smutty friends with benefits nightmare with seungmin 😣 I just feel like he could be so emotionally closed off it could be such a mess but I want it so bad 😩also I love you’re writing and feel free to ignore this if you’re busy or don’t feel inspired by it 🤎🤍🤎

eeeeeeee this was super fun hehehehehe. I hope you like it!!

Jealousy, Jealousy

KSM

Masterlist

wc: 2.4k

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, fwb!seungmin, afab!reader, angst!!, semi public/car sex, protected sex, marking, scratching, possessive seungmo, alcohol consumption but neither of them are drunk (consent is key!), heart been broke so many times befooore

When the alcohol starts to taste like water, you know that you should stop. You know, but you don’t, tolerance built too high at this point that it truly feels like you’re drinking just water. You also know that the neon lights can make anyone look decent enough to sleep with if you squint hard enough. But he looks good enough to fuck all the time, like all the time. It’s fucking annoying.

Hair pushed back and sleek dress shirt made Seungmin’s frame look taller than usual, stronger and more pronounced shoulders shielded around your body and away from any onlookers– or moreso, your friends. He had pulled you onto the crowded dance floor to talk, of all things you could be doing instead. Seungmin stole the half empty drink from your hand and downed it to get your attention, which he had all of now.

“Stop being jealous. It’s not a good look on you,” he leaned down to speak into your ear, arm simultaneously draping around your waist and slowly swaying to the sound of the deep bass.

“Funny, I was thinking you could be a model in the desperation catalog,” you couldn’t help but mindlessly dance with him.

You recalled the reason he had you secluded away from your shared group of friends, Seungmin had seemed to be getting a bit too cozy with a girl at the bar which ended up making you just so happen to stumble into Minho’s lap. It was an accident, you’d reached for more alcohol and tripped into his arms just as Seungmin came back. You were going to get off of him immediately but he’d held onto you, keeping you sat and unable to move. The past hour you spent cuddling up to Minho, you also watched Seungmin from the corner of your eye. He didn’t seem to be remotely bothered until you got up to use the bathroom and he steered you off course.

“Your comebacks are getting better, pretty. You’ve been spending too much time with me.” His hand drifted further down, cupping your ass and tugging so you were chest to chest.

“Kinda have to speak to each other if I’m gonna start picking up on your lingo.”

“I’m speaking to you now, aren’t I?”

“By choice? Don’t make me laugh,” you snickered and pushed away from him, turning to walk away but he’d grabbed your hip and brought you back.

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” The sly smile on his face only looked sexier because it was for you. His smile was always for you, but hidden away from anyone that mattered. His argument, that what did it matter if anyone knew or didn’t? It didn’t change how he felt about you. That just leaves you with more questions and more overly acknowledged feelings, how does he feel about you? Something Seungmin always found a way not to answer. You didn’t expect to start having romantic feelings for him when you agreed to be fuck buddies, no way in hell was that on your bingo card. But here you are anyway, helplessly in love with the one guy who refused to be in any sort of relationship that required caring about anyone but himself. What made it even worse? He’d told you from the very beginning, months ago, that there were gonna be no feelings involved, from him or from you whether you liked it or not.

Seungmin pouted for a quick second before the neon lights shifted and casted a shadow across his face, blurring any remnants of something other than lust.

“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested, lips meeting the shell of your ear and nibbling gently.

“Actually, I told Minho I’d have a few more drinks with him. Can’t let him down,” you pushed him away softly, looking over Seungmin’s shoulder in search of the other man you’d known was out of sight.

He’d let out a loud scoff, hand dropping to slap against his thigh. Raising an eyebrow, you quirked, “you’re right. Jealousy isn’t that sexy, afterall.” You reached up to tap his cheek mockingly, to which he’d caught your wrist and held on tightly. Seungmin dragged your body back in to smash against his. You could feel his erection against your stomach, clearly straining in his pants needing release.

“”M not jealous. I just don’t share my toys.”

“Who ever said I’m yours? I’m not the one crying for a wet pussy to stick my dick in. If anything, you’re mine with the way you’re begging.”

Anger spread across his face, watching his nose twitch at your blunt words. This was how you got him in your bed in the first place, Seungmin was a sucker for the back and forth shit talk, as were you apparently. Though, he usually caved rather easily once he was hard. Now, through the bright purple you could tell he was red in the face.

Check mate, “I’m gonna go find Minho.”

You pushed past him, taking your empty glass from his hand in the process. Just as you’d made it off the dancefloor and could see your group of friends and Minho, making eye contact and smiling at him, Seungmin emerged behind you and stole you away once more. You cursed at the roughness of which he manhandled you out of the club and tossed you over his shoulder to throw into the backseat of his car. Not without a fight, though your fist weakly slamming against his back may as well have been replaced by tufts of feathers seeing as he didn’t so much as flinch and deciding to give up.

Landing on your back, Seungmin lifted your legs to wrap around his waist and closed the door behind him, now leaning over your body. “What the fuck is your problem?” You shouted in his face.

“You don’t want Minho. You just want a reaction. Now look, I’m fucking reacting. Are you happy?” Seungmin kept you pinned down with his hands next to your head, crotches pressed together and the roughness of his jeans made it difficult not to move against. You could tell he felt it too, biting his lip in hesitation.

“No, I’m not happy.” The loud tone of your voice made Seungmin flinch back, not angry nor sad, simply helpless. For a second he ran through all the unprocessed panging emotions in his chest before shoving them back down, throbbing in his pants overriding his brain.

“How can I make you happy?” He called back even though the two of you were only inches from one another.

Neither of you said anything, both equally taken aback by his question, eyes searching for blatant answers he always chose to ignore. Then your body moved before your brain could say no, crashing your lips into his.

Your hands slipped under the back of his shirt and raked nails down his spine while Seungmin’s hips grinded against your clothed pussy, moans mixing in one another’s mouths. Tongues and spit made the kiss slippery, messy as he sat back on his hunches to undo his pants and lift your dress around your torso. There was only a brief moment where he paused once his pants and underwear were pulled down around his thighs and the kiss turned soft. His hand came up to cup your cheek and melted against you, pressing closed-lipped smooches to distract from him pulling your underwear to the side.

The moan you let out when his fingers slid through your folds made him chuckle into your mouth and lose the sweetness of the kiss. As soon as you had a taste, Seungmin made sure to remind you of what you were here for, what he was here for.

He collected your arousal and used it to circle your clit smoothly, making you yelp in surprise when his head fell down to bite roughly into your neck, sure to leave a mark. That was something he never did, Seungmin was sure to never leave any evidence of your agreement. But now he was moving with intention, purposely placing deepening bruises in the most obvious area while you rubbed your bundle of nerves against his hand.

“Stop being a fucking tease,” you murmured and reached between your bodies for his cock, hot and leaking.

“This not making you happy? People will know you’re mine,” Seungmin grumbled back, continuing his assault to your skin with his teeth and letting you stroke him.

“No. You know what will.”

Seungmin incoherently mumbled into you once more before finding your lips again, blindly reaching for his wallet for a condom and swatting your hand away to roll it on. You were about to complain about his rudeness when the blunt head was pressing against your entrance and slowly sinking in, mind falling blank. The car windows were foggy as he bottomed out and bent your knees to your chest, readjusting by pulling your ass further out from under you so you were folded in half. He slid that much deeper and nudged your soft spot, whimpering without filter as your eyes screwed closed.

“Haven’t even done anything yet, pretty,” Seungmin mocked you, smiling to himself and testingly pulling out just to plunge back into you. Lewd sounds filled the car even more, wetness coating his cock with every short, sturdy thrust. His hands were keeping him up on either side of your head. Just to have something to grab onto, you reached up and held onto his wrists, nails digging into his skin.

The longer his movements stayed minimal, the louder you became. Seungmin kept his eyes trained on your face, watching every change in expression. Until you opened your eyes and found him staring, then he closed his and head fell back. The way he avoided it made your cunt clench, doing so on purpose. His pull out, tighten. Push in, relax with him.

“Fuck– doesn’t even feel like I’m pulling out.”

Seungmin shuffled around again, stealing back his hands but replacing your grip onto his biceps so he could push your knees harder against your chest. His thrusts picked up into a full pounding, skin on skin bouncing around the vehicle and for sure making the car shake. You clawed up and down his arms, leaving darkening red streaks along his pale skin. In a way, you were marking him the same way he did to you and it made you proud.

Unholy noises were falling from both your mouths, even more when you let go of his arm to rub at your clit again. The action made him pause and flick your hand away the way he did earlier, replacing your touch with his. You kept your unbound knee to your chest and let him work you up further, dizzy at how well he knew your body.

“Still think Minho could fuck you this good? Still wanna play stupid games you can’t win, pretty?” You whined and whimpered without a straight answer, but that was telling enough. “Didn’t think so. You belong to me. I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

You were covered in sweat, body overheating, and on the verge of your orgasm when Seungmin leaned over to bury his head in your neck to leave even more marks. He rubbed harder, faster, just the way you liked and combined with the pain of his teeth breaking your skin, your vision went white with ecstasy. He didn’t slow down, didn’t stop even as your high subsided and used you to chase his own. You pulled him from his hiding place by the back of his hair and stared into his eyes, only whispering, “cum,” and he did. You milked him through his orgasm with hard, steady pulses of your walls until the condom was full.

Seungmin didn’t move, exhausted and shocked that he could come on command. You were surprised as well at how he responded, but chose not to say anything about it as not to scare him away. That was the last thing you wanted.

He pulled out once he started to grow flaccid, pecking your lips a few times and tying off the condom. You don’t know what he did with it, only focusing on adjusting your panties and thinking about what you were going to say to your friends when you met up with them again.

That was your plan, give him an acknowledging smile and go back inside to try and forget about his stupid smile and stupidly good cock that gives you stupidly good orgasms because you were just a hole and he was just a dick to ride.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Seungmin helped pull your dress down and stuffed himself into his pants before opening the door to back out of the car. As you clambered out, he held his hand out for you to take. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll take you home,” he closed the door as you stood up straight just to back you against the side of the car.

His face centimeters from yours, hands on your waist and smirking down at the evidence of his presence on your skin. The marks were full bruises now, entirely too noticeable to even consider going back inside without an interrogation. You snuck a peak at his arms to find them covered with a jacket, no telling of you on him. Your face visibly fell, quickly noted by him and making up for it with a chaste kiss. He didn’t let you escape, nowhere to go between him in front and the cold metal of the car at your back.

It was getting harder to be upset the longer his lips lingered on yours, he was letting you card your fingers through his hair and keep his body against yours by the loops of his pants, all in public where anyone could see. You wished someone would. That is, until his hips pressed against your stomach once more and felt his dick solid again. You sighed into his mouth, hearing him chuckle as he pulled away. “C’mon, pretty. Let me take you home,” he asked again.

“Why should I?” You challenged, not entirely ready to let go of him.

Leaning in to your ear, whispering even though no one was around, “I’ll fuck you so good you, you won’t know how to do anything but cum.”

The thought was tempting. So tempting that you giggled and nodded, letting him kiss you one more time, saccharine and gentle. He opened the passenger door for you, closing it and running around to the driver seat. Seungmin started the car and began the drive to your place, his hand on your thigh and climbing higher.

Content, warm, giggling about the condensation rolling down the windows, so blissfully blind, you asked the million dollar question. “Will you stay the night?”

His hand retreated, “you already know the answer.”

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @aliferousminho @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl

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artistic-boi-cakko · 8 months

Text

Miguel O'Hara X Artist male reader (Aftercare)

Pure fluff for part 1 click here

M/N could finally fall asleep peacefully, after long hours of work, caffeine degrading his system. It was indeed his first time with Intimacy, he for the first time kissed and lost his virginity immediately after that. He wasn’t able to believe that he was so freaking lucky that the man who is probably the most attractive one he has ever seen made his way with a timid, anxious, reserved and someone with basically no idea of social cues?

M/N was glad, his chest was filled with an unusual pride. He was in Miguel’s arms taking the rest he needed. Miguel was having his eyes closed and taking some rest, he wasn’t asleep, just resting. He was happy to get the boy he longed for, it wasn’t just physical intimacy which Miguel felt, it was way more than that. He loved M/N.

After a few more minutes and making sure M/N was deep asleep. Miguel opened his eyes, let go of M/N, making him lay more comfortably on bed. He got up from the bed and looked at the clock. 4AM, It said, he chuckled and walked towards his room and picked up some wet tissues. He went to M/N’s room and pulled out some wet tissues from the tissue box. He wiped off some uncomfortable sweat and semen from M/N’s body. M/N’s body was mesmerizing, soft, small, with a perfect amount of fat in them, he was neither skinny nor chubby, he was perfect. Miguel was wondering how the boy even managed to remain single and untouched for such a long time, he was 25 already with no experience. It was almost unbelievable for Miguel, he thought he was living a dream which he never wanted to wake up from.

He finished wiping M/N then pushed the boy more in the corner. He walked towards the boy’s closet and took out an extra bedsheet. He tucked in the bedsheet, lightly ironing the bedsheet with his hands, getting rid of most of the creases. He smiled looking at M/N sleeping with no worries, peacefully, he sighed, he wore his boxers, which he had brought from his room along with the wet tissues and laid beside the boy again. He looked at the boy’s face and kissed it gently “Sleep well, Mi Amor. Eres Mi vida", he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath then hugged the boy again. He could feel sleep embrace him and fall asleep into a slumber as well.

Next morning, around 11AM.

M/N opened his eyes, he was in his room. His brain was barely working from last night’s experience. He rubbed the back of his palm on his eyes to clear out his vision. He looked around again, getting a better idea of the situation.

Flashbacks of Miguel’s smiling and assuring face with hints of tease came in his mind. M/N blushed at the memory and sat up in his bed, immediately regretting his decision as he felt pain shoot up in his back from his butt. He groaned in pain. With just that, Miguel entered the room with a small tube in his hand “5, the 5th noise I heard from you which aren’t words” Miguel chuckled, sitting beside M/N on his bed, he patted the boy’s back “How was the night? Did you like it?” his hand currently under his chin as he asked the boy the question. M/N blushed again “It was nice… thank you” he said and he hugged Miguel, who smiled and hugged back and kissed M/N’s head “I’m glad” he said.

“Wanna take a shower? Together? I haven’t taken one yet either” Miguel asked as he got up from the bed, standing tall in front of M/N, he shut his eyes and opened them again relaxing some of his face muscles “sure, nothing to be ashamed of, you saw everything. So did I” he giggled.

M/N threw the blanket off himself then placed his legs on the ground. Miguel quickly picked him up in his arms and took him to his own room, he entered his bathroom, attached to his room. Miguel put him down under the shower head and started taking off his own clothes, which he wore again from last night and got behind M/N who was standing with support of wall. Miguel held him in his arms to support him.

“Guess, why didn't I let you walk here on your own?” Miguel asked, as he turned on the shower faucet and kissed M/N’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have been able to walk here” he whispered, leaning back against Miguel’s chest. “Right, very right” Miguel said seductively in a deep voice and sighed “Now, relax for sometime, you’re own boss” he teased.

M/N laughed a little and nudged Miguel with his elbow “Idiot..hehe” he said “Thank you again” he said with a sigh and laid his head on Miguel’s bicep.

Miguel smiled and leaned down to kiss his head “my pleasure” he spoke.

Miguel started kissing along M/N's shoulder as he caressed his waist. M/N leaned forward and wetted his face more. He felt Miguel's large dick on his back more, he was thinking how it went all the way inside him, it was what he thought happened. "Miguel, you really went all the way in? I'm not in too much pain considering your size" he asked Miguel innocently, Miguel chuckled and slowly whispered in his ear "it only went half. Don't worry, you did great. It was your first time, I didn't want to hurt you" he said as he kissed M/N's shoulder one last time and took a soap bar. Miguel turned off water and started rubbing soap on M/N’s body. He was rubbing soap all over his neck, arms, back, chest, stomach, waist, hips, legs, inner thighs and rubbing them clean.

Miguel started rubbing soap on his own body. M/N held his hand "let me do it for you" he said, looking at Miguel. He started running Miguel's large body the same way he rubbed his.

Soon M/N turned on the water and both men started cleaning off the soap off their bodies.

Miguel grabbed a towel and gave it to M/N and grabbed one for himself. Both were wiping off their bodies.

They walked outside of the bathroom. M/N threw on his boxers, black t-shirt and grey shorts. Miguel was in his room, he wore his boxers, a white t-shirt and some teal sweatpants. He went back to M/N's room. "Baby boy, come to the kitchen to have some lunch. I made cheese chicken sandwiches for us" he said standing near the door then walking away. M/N nodded and followed Miguel like a cute lost puppy. Miguel laughed at this and ruffled his hair "Awh, such a cutie" M/N pouted at it but brushed it off.

Miguel served themselves some orange juice and sandwiches. "Thank you Miggy!" M/N spoke and started chomping on the sandwiches. Miguel smiled "Welcome" he said as he started eating his sandwiches as well.

"You're a great cook" M/N spoke his mouth full of food, he finished his part and kept his plate and glass on the kitchen counter. "Glad you like it" Miguel said.

M/N started washing his plate, Miguel quickly finished his lunch, grabbed his plate and glass and went towards M/N to help him with dishes.

The couple started washing the dishes and soon finished them.

M/N sighed "Phew- all done. Now what are you gonna do?" He asked. "Nothing in particular. Don't you have commissions?" Miguel asked. "Yeah, but I will take a break today to spend the day with you, Miggy" M/N replied as he went on his tippy toes and wrapped his arms around Miguel's neck. Miguel smiled and kissed his lips "let's watch a movie in my room then, cuddling on bed" he proposed the idea. M/N giggled "Sure! Let's binge watch today!"

And this way the couple spend their whole day.

Thank you guys for reading this if you read it this far, I'm glad and grateful!

Please comment if you guys want more of Artist male reader fanfics.

Have a good day and take care!

#lgbtq #gay #aftercare #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #top miguel o'hara #bottom male reader #male reader #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 x reader #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x male reader

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 6 months

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 2

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7.3K

“It seems to be just a case of the common cold,” you told the worried mother. “Dr. Wilson said she just needs rest and to make sure she drinks lots of fluids. She should be back to herself within a few days.”

“Thanks. I know I’m probably being silly rushing her in here but she kept waking up last night, crying, and I’m all alone. I’ve just been exhausted having to do everything on my own. It’s been so hard. And with her not feeling well, neither of us have gotten much sleep the last few days. My husband’s in the Air Force and he’s currently deployed and we don’t know when he’s going to get to come back home and my parents live three hundred miles away.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Let the feeling come. Acknowledge the feeling and then move forward. You closed your eyes for a moment, centering yourself, not letting this one burrow too far in before you forced it back. Maybe you weren't supposed to push them away but sometimes it was necessary. Like now. You couldn’t be the nurse who assured the nervous mother if you were busy trying to find three things to look at, smell, and move. It wasn’t reassuring to have your medical professional falling apart in front of you.

Pressing your index finger to your thumb, you allowed yourself to feel the sensation, to know you were here. You weren't back there. No one was waiting on the other side of the door to give you the news that would send a wrecking ball through the middle of your life, destroying and altering it forever. You were strong. You were handling it. You were moving forward. Opening your eyes, you put on your best smile.

“Of course. I can’t imagine how challenging that must be for you.” Actually, you could, but this was not the time or place to share your own story. This was the time to be an empathetic ear, to listen to your patient. It was not the time to unpack your own trauma or make this about yourself. “Please, no need to apologize. You call us whenever you need to. It’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

The mother thanked you, lifting her three year old into her arms. You directed her which way to go. Parents often got a bit turned around in this place, the hallways like a maze to the various exam rooms, like a figure eight. This practice was a thriving one, one that kept you very busy, your days packed with back-to-back appointments. But you preferred it that way. It made your days go faster.

After you finished college with your Bachelor’s of Science in nursing, you had immediately gotten a job at the local hospital. You'd loved it. The hours were long and you were exhausted all the time but it had been fast-paced and so rewarding. However, it had also been heartbreaking as some children who came into the hospital were there to stay and would never again leave. They would never get tucked into their own bed again, never run through their own backyard again, never sit on the floor of their living room on a Saturday morning eating cereal while watching cartoons again. The job had not just been physically exhausting but mentally and emotionally exhausting as well.

After you'd found out you were expecting Eli, Justin had suggested that maybe you needed something a bit more predictable. It would be hard for you to work twelve hour shifts with a baby at home. It would be even harder to watch children suffer, watch parents in the darkest moments of their lives, when you had a little one at home. You weren't sure how you could face that kind of heartbreak and then go home to your own child, hoping it never happened to you.

Still, you wouldn’t have given it up if it weren’t for Justin being in the military. With his job, he would often be gone for months at a time, leaving you alone. It hadn’t been a problem before but with your parents living across the country and his parents more than three hours away, you were limited when it came to help. So, you'd applied to the new local pediatrician's office, delighted when you got a call that same week, inviting you in for an interview.

You'd been there ever since, watching as Dr. Wilson’s practice grew. He was young, just a bit older than you, and new to the job but his warm demeanor and empathetic ear quickly had every mom in town bringing their child to him. It probably didn’t hurt that he was pretty damn good looking too.

“Hey Rita, I’m going to take my lunch if I don’t have any more patients for a bit,” you told your receptionist as you placed the child’s file into the cabinet.

“That’s fine. Your next appointment isn’t for an hour so you’re good. I’ll have Sarah handle anything that pops up while you’re out.”

“Thanks.”

You grabbed your lunch bag from the fridge and made your way out of the office, heading for the pond. When it was nice out, you always chose to eat your lunch out here, a little escape from the fluorescent lights and germs of the office. Finding a bench, you sat down, pulling out your bologna sandwich. It wasn’t your usual choice but it had simply felt easier to make two this morning instead of trying to come up with something else for yourself.

You pulled out your phone, dialing the number of the one person you'd been desperate to talk to after the events of yesterday. Janice was a photographer. She did great business and had multiple clients who came back to her again and again for family portraits, baby pictures, and senior photos. She worked from home, which also meant her hours were flexible and she was almost always available to take your calls. Sure enough, your best friend picked up after two rings.

“Are you sitting under your tree?”

You laughed, “How did you know?”

“Because it’s your lunchtime and that’s what you always do when the sun is shining. Are the geese around?”

“Yep. The five little babies are swimming with mom and dad. They’re so cute. Little brown fluffballs that look so soft and sweet. I just want to cuddle them.”

“I wouldn’t try it. Geese can be nasty.”

“You don’t have to tell me. Remember when Eli was two and he wanted to feed them and those two geese hissed and opened their wings wide when he got too close. We didn’t know they had a nest right there. I know they were just protecting their babies but that scared the shit out of me.”

“Well, Eli’s your baby. Of course you were scared,” Janice laughed. “Oh my god. That poor kid. He won’t go anywhere near them now. It cemented itself into his brain and gave him a complex. He’ll probably hate those feathered fiends for the rest of his life. So, how was his first baseball practice? Did he love it? Matt can’t wait to talk to him about it.”

“He did. He talked my ear off the whole way home. His best friend is on his team and his coach is the kid’s dad. He loves him and said he was so nice and fun. He’s really patient with the kids. When Eli missed the ball for the third time, he was so upset with himself. The coach was so sweet, giving him some pointers, and assuring him he could do it.”

“Oh…okay, hold on. Wait a minute. Why do you sound like that when you’re talking about his coach?”

“Like what?” you demanded.

“Like you did in high school when you used to talk about Josh.”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Yeah you do! You’re all gushy. You sound like a Disney princess about to break into song among the forest animals who are going to help you clean your home about the guy you just met in the woods.”

You snorted, “Oh please. No I don’t. I’m just glad that his coach is so kind since Eli is new at this.”

“Uh-huh…so, this coach isn’t cute?”

“I mean, yeah, he is…objectively speaking, most women would say he was very attractive.”

“Most women, huh? And what about you?”

“Yes, okay? Yes, I think he’s very attractive. Anyone with eyes would see that he is good-looking. You should have heard the moms at practice going on about his ass. Married moms basically saying they would cheat on their husbands for this guy. I swear, the housewives club is scary. But it’s just…he’s just Eli’s coach. His son is coming over to our house later today to play with Eli.”

Steve was attractive. Hell, he was possibly the most attractive man you'd ever laid eyes on and that made the guilt just twist in your stomach even harder. Justin had been the love of your life. How could you be so turned around by some guy you barely even knew? You'd spoken for all of three minutes. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he coached kids baseball.

“Oh, is he now?”

“Janice, stop. Eli and Jeremiah have become best friends this year and Eli asked forever ago if he could come over and I completely forgot about it and it never happened. He asked again yesterday so I promised him I would set it up. That’s all it is.”

“And is his dad coming over to play too?”

You groaned, your hand coming to y our forehead, “Do you have to say it like that? And no he’s not. He has a work meeting. So, I’m kind of helping him out, I guess, but not really because I was going to invite the kid over anyway.”

“So, he’s just dropping him off and picking him up?”

“Well, he may have offered to grab a pizza on his way back to thank me for watching his kid. Which is completely unnecessary because I asked for him to come over before he ever told me about his meeting. I wouldn’t even have known I was babysitting for him if he wouldn’t have told me about it. I never would have expected him to hang around while our kids hung out.”

“Hmm, so you’re going to be having dinner with him, then?”

“And our kids,” you reminded her.

Janice had this all wrong. Of course she did. He was just being friendly. Your kids were friends and they wanted to spend time together. He’d said it himself, you were helping him out of a bind with childcare issues. That was all. He was just being nice and buying everybody dinner. Your sons were going to be there. It wasn’t like it was a date.

“Still. You know, I said maybe you could find a hot, single dad at practice and look at you, finding one on the first go! He is single, right?”

“I think so. He said his best friend was busy and he had no one else to watch Jeremiah. That would make me think the mom isn’t in the picture but I honestly have no idea. We barely talked because he had to start the practice.”

“Well, you should have plenty of time to talk tonight and get clarification on his status.”

“I don’t need clarification on his status. I told you, I’m done with all of that. I had Justin. There is no way I will ever find anything that can begin to compare with what we had.”

“You definitely won’t if you just throw in the towel. Come on, Aly. Would it really be so bad to just talk to him a bit? I’m not saying you have to jump his bones tonight. I mean, probably wouldn’t hurt. You haven’t been laid in two years, my friend. Your vagina could use some airing out. Clear all the cobwebs that have settled, you know?”

“Jesus, you are so foul,” you sighed, catching sight of a young family heading into the office. The dad had a little boy on his shoulders. He said something to the mom and she grinned, leaning up onto her toes to kiss him. The sight sent familiar pangs of the loss of what could have been, what should have been, through you.

“Maybe but you know I’m right. Anyway, if you’re going to be such a prude, then just talk to him. Be his friend. If your kids like each other that much, chances are this won’t be the only time you’re around each other. And then who knows?”

“Yeah…who knows…” you sighed, thinking you did know. The universe was never going to let you get that lucky twice. Something had to be wrong with this guy.

___________________________________________________________

You folded the towel from the dryer as you watched Jeremiah and Eli race around the backyard, dressed up in Eli’s superhero costumes. Your son had an entire bin of them. He was obsessed. Comic books and action figures covered the shelves in his bedroom. Eli had always loved superheroes but Matt, who was a self-proclaimed, very proud nerd, had gotten him into comics. Most of the items Eli now had came from Matt himself, stuff he’d kept since he was a kid.

You'd survived the drop-off, being cordial and friendly without giving off any signals that you were interested in anything more. At least, you thought you were. It was hard to concentrate when that man looked so damn good, standing there in gray slacks and a yellow sweater. When his cologne hit your olfactory nerves, a woodsy scent of sandalwood and pine, you had gripped the door frame, fighting back the swoon that was quickly coming on. But no, you were sure you kept things professional, just two parents in the midst of an exchange for a playdate.

Besides, you weren't even sure you were interested in anything more. You didn’t even know how to do more at this point. It had been so long since you'd spent real time with any man that wasn’t Justin or Matt. And even if Janice kept pushing you to move on, even if it had been two years, you weren't sure you were ready.

And you weren't sure if Eli would be ready. His therapist said he was doing well. He had adjusted as best as you could expect a child who’d lost his father to adjust. But did that mean he was ready to see his mom with a new guy? Was it fair to bring someone new into his life that could just disappear? What if you started something with someone and it ended badly and he lost another male figure and his best friend at the same time? Would he be so well adjusted then? He had settled into their routine, him and you against the world. You weren't sure you could change that on him.

He’d only been five when it happened but you had made sure that he’d never forgotten his daddy. A picture of him and Justin sat on his nightstand by his bed. It was one of your favorites, taken at the pumpkin farm when Eli was four. He held a giant pumpkin, looking so proud, when really Justin was holding the bottom of it for him, both of them beaming their matching smiles.

The two of you talked about him often, you sharing stories with him of you and Justin and him and Justin. Reminded him how much his daddy had loved him. You couldn’t allow him to forget. You couldn’t do that to Justin whose smile could have lit up the entire planet the first time he laid eyes on his son.

“Mommy! We’re hungry!” Eli yelled as he and Jeremiah came racing in the back door.

You glanced over at the clock, “Well, Jeremiah’s dad is bringing pizza and he should be here any minute. Do you think Superman and Batman can wait just a few minutes to eat?”

Eli groaned, dramatically tumbling down to the floor, “But fighting crime and saving the world is hard work. It makes us so hungry, mommy.”

“Okay…how about you two have some strawberries?” you offered, thinking it wouldn’t be too filling and it would get something good in their system before they loaded up on carbs and cheese.

“Strawberries!” Jeremiah’s eyes lit up. “They’re my favorite fruit. Daddy takes me strawberry picking every single year and we get a ton. My daddy makes strawberry jam and it’s so good on my toast.” His eyes went wide, shooting over to Eli. “Hey! I’ll ask my dad if you guys can come this year! It’s super fun. They have goats, cows, chickens, and ponies that you can ride!”

“Can we mommy?” Eli asked, turning those sweet blue eyes up at you.

“I…uh…I mean, strawberry picking around here isn’t for another month or so. But, maybe, I guess? I mean, if Eli’s daddy wants to take you too, that would be fine.”

“You can come too!” Jeremiah told you. “They have other stuff there like fancy soaps and stuff that they make. My mommy used to like those.”

“Oh, well, maybe…” you muttered as you busied yourself with getting out the strawberries. You ran them under water before working at slicing them onto a plate for the boys to share.

His mommy used to like those? So, she’d been around during his life, obviously. Enough for him to remember going strawberry picking with them. Unless, like Eli, he was repeating stories his dad had shared with him. Where was she now? Had she left? Had she died? You couldn’t very well ask a little boy. What if she had passed? You couldn’t bring up that pain for him.

“Did we ever go strawberry picking with daddy?” asked Eli as the boys sat down at the table, the plate of strawberries between them.

You swallowed, “No. We didn’t go strawberry picking but we used to go to the apple orchard every fall and daddy would put you up on his shoulders so you could get the apples. And we always went to the pumpkin farm too.”

“We still do that!”

“Yes we do,” you smiled as you washed your hands. You worked so hard to keep the traditions that you and Justin started alive. It was another way for you to remind your son how incredible the five short years he had with his dad was. You looked up when there was a knock at the door, drying your hands on a kitchen towel. “I bet that’s Jeremiah’s daddy with the pizza.”

Smoothing your hands over your hair, you inhaled deeply, reminding yourself that this was just two parents whose kids had become best friends getting to know each other. No pressure. No reason to be nervous. You were simply trying to be good parents.

Grabbing onto the door, you swung it open, only to feel like the entire world had turned upside down at the sight of Steve. There he stood in those slacks and that yellow sweater that looked so damn good on him. Not many people could pull off yellow but boy, he could. His right arm was raised, two pizza boxes balancing on his hand and a smile that could have outshone the sun on his face.

“Pizza, as promised,” he announced.

Gathering yourself, you returned his smile, “The boys will be very relieved. Superman and Batman have been battling the forces of evil all afternoon and they are wasting away to nothing.”

Steve’s cheeks hollowed out as he released a long, audible breath, “Can’t have that. How will they ever keep the city safe if we don’t recharge them with greasy pizza? But seriously, I hope he was good for you.”

“He was great,” you assured him. “Seriously.”

“Good. Thanks again. You were a real lifesaver.”

“No problem. I…”

“Daddy! Where’s the pizza!?” came Jeremiah’s whine from the kitchen, loud and impatient.

“Sorry. It’s right here.” Steve grinned, tossing you a wink that had you dazed, before making his way into the kitchen, plopping the boxes down in the middle of the table. “We can’t have Superman and Batman losing their strength. Have to keep them fed so they can keep the city safe. Are we currently in Gotham or Metropolis?”

“Daddy,” Jeremiah sighed, looking exasperated with his father. “Everyone knows both of those places are based on New York City. Then we can be there together.”

“Oh, sorry,” snorted Steve, sharing an amused look with you. “I am not as well versed in superhero lore as you.”

“I know. Uncle Dusty knows way more than you.”

“Of course he does because Uncle Dusty is so much cooler than your boring, old dad.” Steve rolled his eyes, pulling out the chair next to Jeremiah and having a seat.

“You have a brother?” you asked as you stretched your arm up to retrieve the plastic paper plate holders from the top shelf. Turning, your breath caught in your throat. Steve’s eyes were watching you, focused on your midsection, right where your sweater had ridden up when you'd reached for the plates. He quickly looked down at his son as you cleared your throat and set the holders and plates on the table.

“Uhh…no. I mean, not really,” he laughed. “Dustin isn’t actually my brother. I used to babysit him actually. I helped him out one day. There were some older kids picking on him and his friends at the park and I stepped in. Anyway, he went home and told his mom about this cool teenager and she tracked me down and asked if I’d be interested in babysitting. I think she really just wanted him to have a guy in his life. His dad died when he was young and he was an only child. Anyway, he was ten and I was sixteen and he just latched on like a leech and stuck. So…” He balanced his elbows on the table, hands facing up. “I guess he’s mine now. Him and Jere, here, are really close. Jere is into all the nerdy stuff that Dustin likes so Dustin is like his hero.”

“Uncle Dusty is amazing! He taught me how to make a homemade rocket,” Jeremiah told you, his smile so like his dad’s.

But his eyes were different, a beautiful blue like the color of the ocean on a sunny day. And his nose was rounded, a cute little button, the complete opposite of Steve’s which was longer and pointed, almost Romanesque. He must have gotten those features from his mom, which left you wondering where she was again.

“Yeah, and you almost burned the garage down. That thing singed the walls. I had to pull out the fire extinguisher,” Steve reminded his son, grabbing plates and placing them into the holders.

Eli’s eyes went wide, “You almost started a fire?”

“Only a little one but you should have seen the rocket. It zoomed around the garage and then flew out and went bang! It was so cool.”

“Yeah, real cool,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Daddy, did you get just cheese?” asked Jeremiah as Steve moved to open one of the boxes.

“Of course, kid. Do you think I’m new here?” He reached over, ruffling his son’s hair, causing Jeremiah to giggle and that familiar pain, the pain that reminded you of everything your son was missing out on, tightened around you once again. Steve looked up at you. “I got one cheese and one pepperoni. I figured those were safe bets since I don’t know what either of you like. Hope that’s okay?”

“I love cheese too!” Eli told him eagerly, grinning over at Steve. “And mommy usually gets bacon and pineapple for herself but she likes all pizza. Pizza is our favorite food. We have it every Friday and watch a movie.”

“Pineapple on pizza?” Steve questioned skeptically, that beautiful nose crinkling.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it,” you teased with a laugh, pouring milk for the kids. “My husb…” You paused, swallowing hard before taking the seat between Steve and Eli. But why shouldn’t you talk about Justin? Steve had to know Eli didn’t arrive by immaculate conception. “My husband thought I was crazy too. He was more of a pepperoni and green onions kind of guy. But my roommate in college is the one who got me into it. She ordered it one night and I was skeptical too but the combination of sweet and savory is delicious.”

“I think I’ll just have to take your word on that one,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Fruit on pizza.” He looked over at the boys, one of those long, thick fingers swirling around by his ear. “Can you believe that? She’s nuts.”

Eli giggled as Steve plopped a piece of cheese on his plate, “My mommy can be crazy. Sometimes we do backward dinner.”

Steve’s lips pursed, head tilted, “Backward dinner? What’s that?”

“It’s where we have dessert first. So, we’ll have hot fudge sundaes and then we’ll have chicken nuggets and vegetables. It’s my favorite kind of dinner because I don’t have to eat all my vegetables before I get my dessert.”

“Oh, that does sound like a good deal because dessert is the best part of the meal,” Steve agreed with a nod.

“I mean, it’s only done sometimes as a special treat.” You didn’t know why you felt the need to justify yourself but you did. “I do make sure he eats healthy.”

Steve laughed, “I’m sure you do. Sometimes Jere Bear and I like to have ice cream for dinner, don’t we?”

“Yeah! My daddy used to work at Scoops Ahoy and they have the best ice cream! I always get a banana split and daddy gets the U.S.S. Butterscotch.”

“Mmm, the U.S.S. Butterscotch is my favorite,” you grinned. “Eli always gets the hot fudge sundae.”

“With extra fudge!” he added.

“Obviously,” Steve scoffed. “You can never have too much fudge.”

“So, how long ago was this when you worked at Scoops Ahoy?” you asked, picturing him in their little sailor outfit. You couldn’t deny that it gave you a little thrill of pleasure.

“Oh god, it’s been years now. I worked there right out of high school. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and when I couldn’t even get into community college, my father forced me to get a job. Said I needed to know what it was like to earn a working man’s wage.” He snorted harshly, leaving you with the impression that his relationship with his father wasn’t a particularly good one. “Anyway, I worked there for a couple years. That’s actually how I met my best friend, Robin.”

“And I assume you did figure out what you wanted to do with your life since you had a work meeting tonight?”

Steve took a large bite of his pizza, the slice folded up in his hand, “I’m a project manager for a construction company.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that job. What exactly do you do?”

“I oversee the building process, make sure everything is completed on time and within budget. I work with the architects and the engineers to develop plans, establish timelines for different phases to be complete, and calculate what labor and materials are going to cost. That’s what my meeting was about tonight actually. We just got a contract for a new subdivision they’re putting in off of Cherry. It’s a big job. We’re thinking it’s going to take about two years.”

“Wow, that’s a long time.”

“Not really when you consider we’re building around sixty new houses. It’s a good thing really, means my team will have plenty of work to do for a while. Steady income, you know? Nothing’s worse than having to lay someone off, knowing you’re possibly making their life impossible.”

“What’s laying off?” asked Eli.

“Well, when we don’t have enough work to do, then we don’t have the money to pay people. So, I have to tell them that we’re letting them go for a while. It’s not really getting fired because you hope you can call them back when there’s more work. They can apply to get money from the government but it’s not nearly as much as they make when they’re working. That can make it hard for them to feed their families and pay their bills.”

“That seems mean,” Eli commented. “Why do you do it?”

“I don’t want to do it. But when the money’s not there, we have no way to pay them. It happens a lot in the wintertime because there’s not as much building when the weather’s bad. That’s why this job is such a good thing because it will be steady work for the next two winters. I won’t have to worry and neither will my guys.”

“Well, that’s good. Did you have to go to school for that or like a trade school?” you inquired.

“No college. I don’t think I was ever made for college. I struggled through high school. Of course, that could have been because I was interested in everything else but high school. That’s why I’m so glad my kiddo here got his mom’s brains. She was an overachiever, still is. I actually started just like my guys, doing the construction part. I got interested in how the job runs and wound up getting my certification. And about four years ago, they promoted me to project manager.”

So Mom definitely wasn’t gone but then why did he need a babysitter? Maybe she was busy too? Or maybe she lived out of town and they shared custody? And this was none of your business. Why were you so interested in what the situation was with mom?

“Wow, that’s amazing. You must have really impressed them then. Going to college isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, anyway. I’ve told Eli, it all depends on what you want to do with your life. Some jobs don’t require college and they’re just as important. I mean, you build homes. You provide a space for families to start their lives and make memories. I think that’s pretty important work.”

A flush rose up along his neck, bright red against the yellow of his sweater. A small smile curved his lips as he tapped the table before looking up at you. The boys had long given up on your conversation, deeply entrenched in one of their own about the latest episode of X-men: Evolution.

“I mean, you work in a pediatrician’s office, right? You help sick kids. I think that might be just a bit more important than what I do. But thanks. What do you do in the office, anyway? Are you the doctor?”

You laughed, “No. That was far more schooling than I was interested in doing. I’m a nurse but honestly, we know just as much as they do. Experience is way more educational than sitting in some class, listening to someone talk about stuff. Sometimes, I think we might know more than the doctors do. But Dr. Wilson is great to work with. He’s not one of those guys that talks down to his nurses or acts like he’s superior because he’s got that M.D. after his name. I worked with plenty of misogynist ego-driven jerks when I worked at the hospital. They act like they’re royalty or something. Dr. Wilson actually trusts us and values our input. He makes us feel like a part of a team instead of a dictatorship.”

The conversation flowed easily, the boys jumping in here and there, all four of you laughing and smiling as you enjoyed your pizza. You could not deny the feeling of rightness in this moment, this moment that was everything you had ever wanted for your son. It was a picture perfect moment in time, this little dinner at your kitchen table full of warmth and laughter.

And no, you weren't insane. It wasn’t that you were looking at this as a family or that you were jumping ten steps ahead of just this pleasant evening. It was just nice to have a full table, to have it not be just you and Eli, to watch your son enjoying himself. He loved when Matt and Janice came for dinner but this was different. He had his best friend with him, the two boys sending each other into hysterics every thirty seconds.

For just this moment, this little slice of time, the weight had been lifted from your shoulders. The constant guilt that you weren't enough, that you could never be enough for your son. You could never be all of the things that he needed you to be. For just this moment, you thought maybe you didn’t have to be if you could surround him with people who provided everything he needed.

“Alright, kiddo, we should probably get heading home so you can take a shower before bed,” Steve announced around seven thirty, pushing back from the table and standing up. He gathered the paper plates, tossing them in the trash. “Did you want help cleaning up before we head out?”

You waved your hand dismissively, “Oh no. That’s not necessary. Just a quick wipe down of the holders and popping the cups in the dishwasher. It will only take a couple minutes.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, seriously. No big deal. Besides, you bought the dinner so the least I can do is the clean up.”

“Yes, but I brought the dinner to thank you for watching my kid.”

“Please. I offered to take him and having Jeremiah here saved me from having to wear the Superman cape and run around with Eli all evening. It was nice to just be an average human instead of a superhero tonight.”

“You’re a nurse,” Steve said with a soft smile, leaning into you, causing your heart to skip a beat. “Pretty sure you’re a superhero all the time.”

“Daddy, can Eli come to our house this weekend? Please? He really wants to meet Miles.”

“Miles?” you asked.

“It’s his dog!” Eli told you excitedly. “He wears capes too! Jeremiah said he can be my sidekick, Robin.”

"Which is silly because that's my Aunt Robin's name," Jeremiah added, "but the cape doesn't fit her so good so she's usually Catwoman because it's a mask and a tail."

Steve laughed, “Sure kid. He can come over. If it’s okay with his mom.”

“Fine with me,” you shrugged. Seeing the joy on your son’s face to get to spend time with his friend was all the reason you needed to readily agree. It definitely did not have to do with having the chance to see his dad again. No. That didn’t factor in at all.

“Okay, well, how about this?” Steve knelt down to his son’s level. “We’ve got baseball practice on Saturday until two. Why don’t we all go get ice cream afterward and then Jeremiah and his mom can come meet Miles afterward?”

“All of us?” you questioned, wondering if you'd heard him correctly.

He rose, head tilting forward, those eyes as warm as a chocolate chip cookie coming right out of the oven, and just as delicious. “Why not? I mean, if you have something else to do…”

“No. No, I don’t. I mean, that would be nice. We haven’t gotten ice cream yet since they opened. And I love dogs. Who doesn’t love dogs? Crazy people, right? So obviously meeting your dog would be fun. I just…I mean…yeah, okay.”

He appeared amused with you once again and you wished you could just pull the foot out of your mouth. It appeared to be permanently wedged there whenever he was around.

“Good. Maybe we can even have a sleepover.” Your breath caught as his mouth dropped open, eyes going wide, one of those hands running nervously through his hair, sweeping it to the side. “I mean the boys. The boys could have a sleepover. At my house. If you’re okay with that?”

Had he meant what you thought he meant? Had that just been an innocent mistake or was he as attracted to you as you were to him? Trying to let your son hang out with his friend was proving to be far more complicated than you thought it would be when you'd approached him on the baseball field.

“Yeah.” You weren't sure why. You hadn’t even let Eli stay the night anywhere before but there was just something about Steve that you trusted. “Eli would love that, honestly.”

“You’re gonna sleep at my house!” Jeremiah yelled, grabbing Eli’s hands, the two boys jumping around the kitchen.

“Obviously, they’re both okay with it,” Steve chuckled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “So, we’ll see you Saturday at practice?”

“Yeah. Saturday.”

You said your goodbyes, the boys both still screeching, talking about how it was only two more sleeps until their sleepover. Steve gave you one last smile and a little finger wave before turning and taking his son’s hand, leading him to his Ford Explorer that was parked just behind your Prius.

“Mommy, are you and Jeremiah’s dad friends now too?”

“Kind of, I guess,” you shrugged.

“Cool because if you’re friends and want to play with each other all the time then me and Eli can play with each other all the time too!”

You gripped the door, closing it slowly behind you. Your son had no idea the implications of what he’d just said but you definitely did. Your entire body was vibrating with the implications of what he’d just said.

___________________________________________________________

“Daddy, when Eli spends the night can we make a fort like the one we made that one time where it was the whole living room? Remember? And we put up the Christmas lights inside and we put in our sleeping bags and pillows.”

Steve blinked, glancing up at his son in the rearview mirror. He’d completely missed everything that his kid had just said. The boy had been rambling from the moment they’d gotten in the car and he was having trouble focusing, his thoughts completely focused on the last hour of his day.

You had been consuming all of his brain space since you'd approached him yesterday on the baseball field. Yeah, you were gorgeous. He’d noticed that instantly. Who wouldn’t? But there was something else about you, something that wouldn’t let his brain rest, something that kept poking at him, telling him to do something about these feelings you were stirring up inside him.

And it had been so long since he’d had anything stirring inside of him. After him and Nancy had split four years ago, Steve had jumped right into another relationship. He struggled with being alone. According to Robin, it was his dysfunctional childhood. The little boy inside of him who never got the love he needed from his parents, constantly seeking it out in someone else.

According to Robin, that was why he’d married Nancy even though the two of them had been all wrong for each other. He clung to the first solid thing that had come along and refused to see any of the millions of little signs that it wasn’t working. Of course, that was according to Robin, his best friend who thought she knew more about the internal workings of his mind than he did.

He’d dated Stacy for a year, convinced himself that she was the one, told Robin he was thinking of proposing and his obnoxious friend had slapped him upside the head. To be fair, he probably needed a good jarring, something to knock some sense into him. Marrying Stacy would have led to him being twice divorced. She had been even worse for him than Nancy.

Not that there was anything wrong with Nance. No, she was amazing. She was smart, beautiful, kind, and an absolutely wonderful mother. Neither of them had ever cheated or hurt the other. They simply just weren’t a good fit. It seemed so obvious now when he could see how well her and Jonathan slid together, like two puzzle pieces locking into place perfectly.

He’d dated a few other women after Stacy, most recently Janet, a single mother that he met at the park last summer. They’d made it about four months before he saw it was going nowhere. She was clingy, pushing for them to move in together, and it was in that moment that he realized he could not see a future with her. The idea of waking up next to her every day was exhausting. He’d ended it and she had not taken it well, calling him every name in the book, very loudly, in the middle of the restaurant he’d taken her to to try to soften the blow.

Steve didn’t lack for options. It felt like the moms of this town were throwing themselves at him constantly, some of them not even single. But none of them fit. None of them made him feel that thing, that thing that Robin said was like the Big Bang, everything exploding and then rearranging into this perfect arrangement. She kept telling him it was called falling in love, not forcing in love. He needed to stop trying to make it happen and just let it come to him. Yeah, well, that was easy for her to see, the girl who’d found the right person in high school.

Was that what he was doing right now? Was he just trying to force something to be what he wanted? Your kids were friends. You'd approached him because you wanted to set up a time for your sons to be able to play. It could be that simple. You might not even be interested in him or in anything.

He knew your husband had died. Jere had told him that Eli’s dad was in heaven. But he didn’t know how and he didn’t know how long ago. Maybe you were still freshly grieving. You'd definitely struggled when you were talking about him tonight. If you were still in the midst of your grief, the last thing you needed was some guy trying to push you to go out with him sometime.

No, he probably needed to just take a step back. Cool it off. Yeah, you were beautiful and you seemed far more real than most of the women in this town who were interested in him. But if he tried to force something that wasn’t there, he wouldn’t be the only one to suffer. Jere would too because he would inevitably lose his best friend when things went south. He couldn’t do that to him.

“Daddy, are you even listening to me?” Jeremiah huffed from the backseat, breaking through Steve’s thoughts.

“I’m sorry buddy. What did you say?”

“I said can we make a big fort when Eli comes with the lights and our sleeping bags and stuff?”

“Oh yeah. Of course, bud. We can definitely do that. You want to make some s’mores too?”

“Yeah! And can we have popcorn and watch the new Scooby Doo movie too?”

“Absolutely!” Steve replied, grinning in the mirror. “And I can grill some hamburgers and hot dogs. We’ll make it the best sleepover ever, kid.”

His son’s smile stretched from ear to ear, reminding Steve why he very much needed to focus on his son’s happiness instead of his loneliness. No, he didn’t need to jump into another relationship with some woman he’d just met. He was just seeing things he wanted to see, trying to rearrange the pieces into the image he was so desperate for.

“Is Eli's mommy gonna sleepover too? Our fort will be big enough.”

“Uh, no buddy,” Steve answered. “She’s gonna come over and see Miles but she’s not staying.”

“Why not? Don’t you want a friend, daddy?”

Yeah, he did. More than his son could possibly know.

Chapter 3

Taglist: @katethetank

If you wanted to be added to the taglist, just let me know. 😊

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emry-stars-art · 4 months

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Oooh do go on about raven neil and jean 👀 (if you’re so inclined ☺️) - @neil-jostenminyard

*chanting* raven Neil raven Neil raven Neil (and lots of Jean) (quite possibly even jeaneil) (although most of the thoughts are post-ravens lol)

So my personal thoughts about this are also mostly thanks to chats and inspiration/prompting from @jtl-fics and @greenautumnleaves so if you see any additions from them on this post it's most likely also thoughts I adore lol

Anyway this got kind of long so:

I ALSO latched onto Sakavic's statement that Neil wouldn't leave Jean in the nest bc yeah it makes sense and also ow

But just the two of them being partnered up like Riko and Kevin as is common in these aus, and then after Kevin gets out first, they have to stick together and rely on each other even MORE because Riko is pissed that Kevin is gone and probably takes it out on the next closest two idk

But in our imaginings, Renee or Andrew get Jean out quicker than in canon, again because Neil would refuse to leave Jean behind and I can only imagine he'd go so far as to trick or manipulate Jean into leaving. Maybe by being at a certain place at a certain time to get picked up, however he can make it happen. But the issue we run into is that once that's done, what the hell would Neil have left at Evermore, besides Exy that maybe he still loves deep down. But Exy's been so warped being raised on it at the nest that at that point his obsession is barely recognizable.

Kevin might recognize this, because he knew Neil in the nest. Or at least he knew the person that Neil presented himself as. But it's probably more likely that Jean recognizes this, and yeah things are super rocky and weird but Jean can barely even function without Neil. So back a fox goes to rescue their second raven's partner.

They bring Neil back to Palmetto and he and Jean are completely inseparable. Emotionally and physically. Neither of them act like, feel like, or even call themselves "touchy feely" or "clingy" people but as soon as Neil is treated for various intense and mysterious injuries, they're curled up in some hidden place for hours. Even the short time having left Neil behind made Jean almost too anxious to leave his room. Even the short time without Jean - now with more punishment for aiding Jean's escape - was enough for Neil to consider something drastic.

(side note: Andrew now has not one, not two, but three gorgeous tragic boys under his supervision and I'm sure he's handling that totally normally lmao. But it's so obvious to him that Jean and Neil have something going on that any ideas for himself aren't worth entertaining.)

So it's a little easier to ease out of various habits and thought processes because Jean and Neil are doing it together, with outside help. They fix their sleep cycles/rhythms, try a slightly more normal college diet, and most slowly lose their "win or die" mindset in practices. They're still never seen without each other - Wymack had a talk with some of the school board about their schedules and dorm arrangements for the first semester. In reality, he's not sure if he should have them go cold turkey on raven habits or if he should take it slower, but he's doing his damn best to get these boys adjusted to life outside a cult. And Neil and Jean, whether or not they actively realize it, find that step to be the one they absolutely cannot take. Why would they go through the agony of learning to live separately if they don't have to. When no one else understands them like the other, when they've already seen each other's worst so nothing else is worth keeping secret between them. Who else is Jean going to go to when having a better life makes him feel like he more deserves death or punishment and the guilt hits him so hard he can't breathe, much less sleep. Who else is Neil going to go to when he can't let go of his birthright - if he isn't good at what he does (Exy) he literally could just be shot like a lame horse - and he's not allowed to go practice Exy against a wall to the point of tearing himself apart anymore so he forces his feet away from the court to find the only person he knows he'll listen to when they say no.

Kevin, of course, is keeping a close eye on the two, whether unintentionally or on purpose is unclear. Neil still has a mouth on him, he sometimes plays mind games with the foxes like chess against himself, and most of all does not allow anyone to get too close to Jean. Jean is still quiet, having learned not only to take a punishment without resistance but also that Neil will speak first. Neil will resist so Jean doesn't have to. He's safer in Neil's shadow.

Maybe it's a phrase or warning that Neil uses and that Kevin recognizes. Maybe it's a gesture between Neil and Jean that Kevin oversees. Maybe it's just the general demeanor of the two. But whatever it is is familiar to Kevin, not in a "I remember this from them in the nest" way. He can recognize by now that Riko was not good to him, he can acknowledge it even if the rest of him hasn't caught up. He looks at Jean in Neil's shadow and remembers himself in Riko's.

As if Butcher's son Nathaniel Wesninski wasn't already scary enough on his own.

But Kevin won't allow this kind of thing on his court, and he's not good at it but he is still trying to let go of unhealthy raven ideals. If Neil is holding onto some fucked up dynamic, Kevin is going to put a stop to it.

He pulls Jean aside, a miraculous feat. He asks what Neil has done.

"Mistake" might be an understatement.

It could very easily be the longest string of words Jean has said to anyone besides Neil. Kevin doesn't know near as much French as he does in canon - Neil is the one that shares that secret defiance - so it's all clear English, Jean making sure Kevin understands every word. Kevin should never speak about Neil that way again. He knows nothing about them, he shouldn't so much as pretend to understand Neil. Neil is the only good thing that ever happened to Jean. Kevin never cared enough to bring it up in the nest, so he has no right to start caring now.

It isn't great for their already tumultuous relationship. Kevin wonders for a bit if Jean would tell Neil about it - then next practice Neil doesn't even try to work with Kevin, even after the two had made it a point as strikers to figure out how to. He ignores the other strikers entirely, falling immediately and seamlessly into perfect synch with Jean behind him, speaking hardly a word of English the whole practice. Because he knows that will make Kevin even more angry than Neil being actively hostile to his new teammates.

Kevin isn't sure what he was expecting. Chances are Jean hadn't even needed to bring it up for Neil to notice something was off.

As for Andrew, I think he could still pick up a game of truths. He'd need to offer a similar deal as he did for canon Neil, this time for Neil-and-Jean, the entity of the two of them together. I think he could ensure some cooperation by saying he won't force Jean and Neil apart from each other the way some others have muttered about doing. Even if Neil knows by now the codependence isn't healthy, neither of them are ready to give it up.

It probably really throws Andrew to hear that they don't consider themselves to be an item. They're together, sure, but for a raven that doesn't always, maybe even rarely, means "in a traditional relationship". Neil and Jean definitely never offer any clarification. That's no one else's business, even if they could explain it so that a non-raven could understand. Generally I feel like if this is an andreil universe, it's an even longer, stranger, more winding road to get there than in canon.

I'm almost CERTAIN there's more Im forgetting about rn but this has been my taster on raven Neil+Jean, I hope it was at least a little bit coherent, and greenautumnleaves - I hope this comes anywhere close to your galaxy brain ideas on these two lol. Maybe I'll be back with other thoughts later who knows

#maybe i lied. maybe i will make raven neil/jean art of my own accord #because if any other pairing in the series drives me crazy it is whatever tf these two have going on #thank you for allowing me to text dump lmao #not art sorry guys #neil josten #jean moreau #jeaneil #nathaniel wesninski #raven neil au #oh also. i had to throw andrew in there not because of my vanilla shipping tendencies #but because theres far too many ways for things to go so wrong and end so badly for him in universes where he doesnt have neil #so he at LEAST has a bit of something. does this make sense

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jazzyquarterblugs · 2 months

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𝐏𝐏𝐓𝐉: 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Time to show ya'll the Altercanons for The Smiling Critters!! :D

(I have already looong posted them on my twitter but again for the Tumblr peeps I will post them here! :3)

From Oldest to Youngest!

Enjoy!

Bubba Bubbaphant!

The smart and probably the most mentally stable one out of the bunch (more on that later-) being the oldest isn't really easy when you've got 7 younger friends most of which love to go on rowdy fun adventures, nonetheless he is always with them every step of the way whenever he can! (Mostly because he needs to keep them from accidentally getting themselves killed 💀)

His Talent

Bubba is capable of creating balls of light and is able to change the intesity of light sources around him, in combat he can create lightbulb shaped items and throw them at to flashbang opponents, disorienting them and giving him the advantage, though this uses up his own energy and so he needs to think carefully about how many he creates, or else he will likely pass out.

KickinChicken!

The self-proclaimed cool guy of the critters. An daredevil who's always put looking for ways to have a lil fun, all the while making Bubba slowly lose his patience 😅 even though he may come off as an arrogant jerk to others, Kickin actually cares a lot about his friends and others more than he likes to admit! Just don't get on his nerves or he will make your life a living hell whenever given the chance!

His Talent

He can whip out three items of his choosing, whether it'd be a simple screwdriver or a flat out atomic bomb, all of which seem to follow a common theme 💀 though he is only lmited to three wishes and after using them all up he'd have to wait for an one hour cooldown before he can create more items again.

CatNap!

Not a very talkative critter, neither is he really stable in ANY WAY to begin with, he went suddenly missing once for 3 whole weeks and came back never the same, for 9 whole months has he never ate, drank or even slept, and it's only a matter of time before one day he finally collapses in on himself...

His...Talent???...

He is able create sleep-inducing red smoke, making whoever is nearby inhale it and fall into a Deep Sleep... (it doesn't kill them dn)

DogDay!

The leader of The Smiling Critters! And CatNap's best friend! This lovely sunshine is always ready for an adventure and bring a smile to everyone's faces no matter who they are! He is always standing up for what's right, willing to put his friends before himself.

His Talent?

His body glows a range of red to yellow whenever experiencing intense emotions, the hue and the temperature of his body depending on how intense the feeling is, if it is too intense his body is capable of burning the skin off of anybody who attempts to touch him.

PickyPiggy!

The nature-loving and diet obsessed one of the group, she absolutely loves the wonders of mother nature, even owning an vegetable garden herself! She loves to eat but always makes sure she stays healthy when doing so! Though sometimes she is so entranced by eating food that she often forgets to keep up with the others and finds herself confused, she always feels like she has an reputation to uphold considering her father is a well-known cook in Critterville, to make things even less easy she has 12 younger brothers to take care of!

Her Talent

She is able to take and storage items within an infinite pocket dimension like a personal inventory in her pockets, though she needs to have actualy pockets for this to work, luckily she knows how to sew!

Hoppy Hopscotch!

The physically active one of the group! And DogDay's beloved little sister! This rambunctious lil rabbit is willing to take on a challenge if it means having fun! Though she is really accident prone so she often gets herself hurt! (Pretty frequently actually-) but even so she doesn't know how to back down! While impatient and loud, she is happy to protect her friends from danger!

CraftyCorn!

The shy and soft-spoken one! She's pretty timid but has an incredible creative side to her! She loves to create all kinds of art but most specifically loves to draw! Even though she may not have had the best first start of her life, but after moving into Bubba's home and becoming part of The Smiling Critters, she realizes she feels right at home.

Her Talent

She is able to mend and shape paint however and whatever she wants it to be! Whether it is colorful wings of freedom or another way to paint, she needs to have paint at her disposal though.

She is also capable of magic of her own! But due to her previous living conditions she was never able to tap into her gift and discover the wonders of unicorn magic all that much, though luckily Bubba has enrolled her to equestrian classes to help her with that problem! <)

Bobby Bearhug!

The sweetest and youngest one out of the group! She was found alone outside near the Critters' treehouse, ever since then Bubba has taken her under his wing and has been taking care of her since, it is unknown what happened to her parents it has been assumed that they had just abandoned her.

Her Talent

She is able to sense the true intentions of a person's heart, helping her know who is worthy of trust or not, she is also able to sense the emotions of an individual though this can be physically and even mentally exhausting, making her needing to take frequent naps to gain her energy back.

Aaaand that is all I have for today!

I hoped you enjoy these Altercanons and if you have any questions regarding them or this AU feel free to ask in my ask box! :3

(repeat users are okay btw!)

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime au #poppy playtime jealousy #poppy playtime jealousy au #jealousy au #pptj #smiling critters #smiling critters au #bubba bubbaphant #kickinchicken #catnap #dogday #picky piggy #hoppy hopscotch #craftycorn #bobby bearhug #Bobby is a baby in this AU yes #Why? Cause I can >:)#But it's also because it makes up for an funny dynamic between Bubba and Kickin plus for story purposes!#DogDay and Hoppy are siblings #Kickin is a trans man cause I said so 😘#Picky is always getting distracted by food so she forgets what is going on sometimes #She also has OCD #Crafty is a sweet unicorn who does not deserve to have a mother like hers #Bubba is literally the only one with the least amount of drama in his life #And CatNap is my comfort character! <3 #I hope this doesn't upset all of y'all- ;-;#REMEMBER THIS IS AN AU!!#altercanons #altercanon

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 11 months

Text

Mornings with Billy Washington | Drabble

Just a silly little drabble I wrote featuring lazy morning sex with Billy W 😚 Warnings under the cut~

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Billy W Taglist

Warnings: tooth rottingly cute p in v, cockwarming i guess | Word Count: 1.7k~

Billy could tell it was late morning when the sun poked through that slither between his curtains, forming a golden, yellow line right against his cheek.

He squinted one eye and moved away from it, groaning sleepily and brushing his hand through his mussed-up sandy blonde hair, knowing that half an hour later it would just annoy him again. Through the slightly opened window, the quiet hum of cars were driving past in the slow, tired waking of the city on a normal Sunday and the curtains blew softly in the warm wind that drifted in.

He turned over in bed, tugging the sheets over his waist from the slight chill. A lazy smile formed on his face at the sight next to him. She was hugging the pillow under her head, slept on her front, her hair tangled around her, and with the warm morning sun, it formed somewhat of a halo around her head. He knew better than to think she was a saint, not after what they’d done the night before.

She wore nothing to bed that night. They could have blamed the heat, yes. But the truth was that neither of them felt the need for clothes after falling asleep, fucked-out, hot and pink-faced in the wake of their heights of pleasure. The bedsheets hung around her waist loosely, and he could see the contours of her breasts as they were pushed against the mattress. He trailed his fingers down the slope of her feminine back, over the dimples at the base, his palm flat, appreciating all the perfect curves she had.

She was perfect.

And she was his.

What did he do, he thought, to get to wake up to a view like this?

He wrapped one arm around her waist, a large hand spayed out on her stomach as he pulled her back towards him lazily, still dreary from hot sleep. She barely made a sound, but the one she did, low and tired, sent little flutters in his chest. He was happy, that only he got to see her like this.

Her eyelashes barely even fluttered, still deep and softly cushioned in the hand of sleep. But there was something soothing about being flush against each other, bare, as if there was nothing to hide. Billy dragged his nose from her shoulder to her neck, her scent blooming around him. Her perfume, shampoo, the softness of her supple skin, everything he loved about her encapsulated in one beautiful image.

She did things to him he didn't think he was capable of feeling.

Now with his hips against her plush backside, and his lips softly leaving little wet kisses at her nape, he could feel himself getting harder, noticeably against the curve of her ass. And perhaps he hadn't even realised it, but his hips moved only slightly, chasing a friction against her warm, silky flesh, his breath coming in hot, little pants.

It was only when she moved her head slightly towards him, eyes still softly shut from thick sleep, that he realised she was partly awake.

"Mm…Billy…"

Her quiet murmurs didn't deter him from laying sweet kisses against her neck. More so, in fact.

She sighed delicately into the warm air when she felt the almost imperceptible pressing of his erection against her back. A knowing, loving smile on her lips.

"Morning, beautiful" he whispered against her skin and she sighed wonderfully at the hotness of his breath.

"Morning indeed" she responded with a lob-sided smile and a teasing tone to her voice at the way his grip tightened on her hips, his lips sucking on her pulse point, running his tongue over the area where he'd nipped at with his teeth.

He reached down and grappled at her buttocks, kneading the soft flesh in his palm, and she whined quietly, only creating friction for her where she needed it the most, seeing what he wanted first thing in the morning. All the while he kept pushing his ever-hardening length against the curve of her ass with heightening intensity.

She was being rocked by his movements so lovingly, that she almost fell back asleep, eyelids heavy and a growing wetness between her naked thighs. Even more so when his fingers ran through her hair at her scalp, her eyelashes quivered until they were closed again.

Near undetectably, her hips rocked back to meet his teasing and Billy sighed against her ear, feeling his body get hot all over and injected almost instantly that lust into his veins, that desire.

She gave him the only words she could muster at that time.

"Billy…"

His fingers tightened on her hip, slowly reaching down to slide the tip of his cock, flushed pink and weeping from the gentle sensuality of the moment and the hot, unbridled want he had to stay inside her, like she was a warm, inviting home for him to sink into; he slipped effortlessly between her thighs, panting softly at the friction of fucking himself against her without being inside her.

He could feel her warm wetness coat his length, an almost inaudible sound of the slickness making the heat rise tightly to her cheeks. Even from this alone, she felt the tension in her stomach tangled into knots. The thickness of him never failed to surprise her, nor the way his cock, long and slightly curved, always tucked into that spot inside that made her hips seek him closely. And right now, as he endlessly teased himself through her thighs, slowly, feeling every pulse of his heart through the veins of his manhood, every ridge, felt like the closest thing to perfection.

"Let me take care of you, baby"

His low and desperate murmur made her skin erupt in pleasant goosebumps, her stomach fluttering with anticipation.

He slid back, almost dipping from her thighs but not quite. The tip caught perfectly at her entrance, before pushing inside her, splitting her so gently and carefully open on his hard and aching cock. Her arousal made it feel so effortless, like they were simply slotting back together again.

A choked gasp caught in her chest when he bottomed out, until he was at the end of her, stilling there for a few, long moments just to feel her warmth squeeze around him. He breathed against her neck in short puffs of air, trying desperately to hold back.

At this angle, with her thighs still squeezed together and her back slightly arched against his chest, she felt every little bit of him, inch by perfect inch. She throbbed with desire, her hips moving only slightly, for just a taste of that delicious friction she needed in her sleepy, lust-filled haze.

It was the only permission Billy needed, as she slid herself onto him over and over, her insides slick, rough and smooth all at the same time.

She moaned softly as he dragged himself almost all the way out and slid slowly back. It was nowhere close to the borderline chaotic fucking of the night before, rather this was tender and careful lovemaking. To remind them both that they were two halves of the same, and deserved these close and affectionate acts sometimes.

Billy slid his hand between her arm, over her ribs and between her breasts to gently grasp her face, his hips still rocking with a quiet smack against her. He turned her head with his thumb and forefinger, her lips parted and breathy moans spilling from her mouth as her body jolted faintly with each thrust. He pressed his lips needily against hers, their tongues sliding over each others, locked together and muffling the sounds of their hurried breathing.

He pushed one of her buttocks apart, to gain better access and friction, but also to look down and watch the way she took him, her arousal coating the length of him with each stroke inside. Her groaned at the sight, and started to lovingly fuck her faster with even the thought passing his mind.

He could feel the sheen of sweat over both their bodies, could see her hair sticking to her nape and curling in at the exertion. And that telltale way her eyebrows furrowed only slightly, and the brief but undeniably eager way she tightened around him; he knew she was so close. She just needed something else. Something more.

Feeling himself rapidly approaching that edge, Billy’s gave her hip a firm squeeze, leaving little yellow marks against her flushed skin. His palm brushing against her pubic bone to press his middle finger against her bud, collecting whatever wetness surrounded it and pressing in light, feather-like circles. He rested his head against her shoulder, a louder near-desperate and strained moan falling uncontrollably out his mouth at the way her pussy fluttered around him with the additional pleasure.

“Fuck-you’re so perfect” he sighed, his hips smacking harder against her.

Her fingers sank into his forearm, the pressure inside her stomach wound tight.

“-fuck-Billy-” she sobbed, shuddering at his pace.

The last few thrusts back inside knocked the air from her lungs, an all-consuming orgasm drove in impassioned waves through her body, his cock still bullying that sensitive spot inside with exhausting precision. Billy fucked her through her peak, aching for that drawn-out friction of her ever-tightening walls, a hushed, quiet gasp of his name was all she seemed to be capable of uttering. His middle finger kept teasing her bud, until her body began to shake, her hoarse tired voice now a pleased little cry with the slight overstimulation.

And with an extended, near-helpless moan against her skin, he came deep inside her, filling her with his warmth, with her back still pressed hard against his chest, both his heartbeat and the shaky rhythm of his breathing batting against her. The high of his own simmered down slowly into dull, fluttering little sparks.

He breathed her in, her perfect, individual scent combined with the musk of sex, warm and all-encompassing. Now the chill of the wind through the window caused him to shudder against her, his cock, still nestled inside her, now softening. Her warm, pliant form, pressed so perfectly against him and snug around him.

His head slumped back against the pillow, pulling her body towards his. He could tell, by her evened little breaths, that she’d fallen back into a fucked-out slumber, and when he brushed his hands through her hair again and looked down at her face, her cheeks were flushed a ruddy pink.

Billy kissed the crown of her head, sighing contently, feeling the gentle lull of sleep as well.

He could never deserve her, he thought. Not in a million years.

But was thankful, every single day, that she was his.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

General Taglist: @risefallrise @valeskafics @theoneeyedprince

Billy W Taglist: @fan-goddess & for my Billy simps @assortedseaglass

*Bold means I couldn’t tag, if I can't tag you you can always turn on notifications for when I post. DM me if you wanna be removed besties

#billy washington smut #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington x oc #billy washington x reader #billy washington #billy washington trigger point #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #trigger point bbc #trigger point #trigger point series #trigger point billy washington #Billy Washington fluff #billy Washington fic #billy washington fanfic #billy washington x you

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papercupids · 11 months

Text

good good night - kim mingyu

pairing -> mingyu x gender neutral reader.

word count -> 0.6k

summary -> mingyu has made it a habit to bail on his friends to not spend more than even a minute than he has to, but he soon regrets it

warnings -> mentions / implied use of alcohol and drinking but that’s about it.

a/n -> this is literally the third or fourth time i've tried to publish this because tumblr loves fucking w me (it didn’t save my last drafts). anyway, i love writing these little mingyu pieces so much i might even convert it into a series or something.

the bell rings and you pause watching, even though you just started watching the movie, gathering all the snacks and drinks and finally sitting down to watch it. and you think about who it could be since you don’t have any parcel deliveries scheduled for today and neither has mingyu.. or does he?

when you open the door, it reveals not your boyfriend’s package but he, himself, standing in all his 6’3 glory.

“hey, you’re back!”

“i am,” he walks past you, almost too glad to be home.

“wait, didn’t you leave like just 2 hours ago or something? mingyu, did you bail on them again?” you ask as you slowly close the door.

he sits down on the seat next to the shoe cabinet, and removes his shoes and smiles at you. he looks drunk but not as drunk as he is everytime.

“...no I just had enough of the drinks and i was super tired and i just. wanted to be home with you,” he’s done removing the shoes and he holds out his hands, signaling you to come closer. “kinda missed you,” you wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you further in, rubbing his nose to yours.

“aw, as sweet as that is, you know you shouldn’t bail on your friends everytime right?” he’d been doing this for the last few times, coming back too early, saying he preferred to spend his only free time, the weekends, with you. you walk up to the sofa and he joins you there after he changes into his home clothes.

“i think they were too drunk to notice. and besides, aren't you happy to have me home?” you look up and grin at him, a grin he’s kinda afraid of you, a grin that means that you have ulterior motives.

“ofcourse! trust me there's nobody happier than i am.” you play the movie you paused as eerie music starts playing. “a new horror movie just came out on netflix and i was about to start it so i'm so so happy you came home early so we could watch it together.”

mingyu attempts to get up quickly but your hands grab at his quickly and he gives you a pleading look.

“no baby, you can't escape now,”

“i think they're calling me though….”

“too late, baby,”

a bit later though, as the tv sounds go on and on filling up the empty house with the lights off, as you both lay asleep on the sofa, with your face on his chest and his hand lying limp on the floor with the remote still clasped.

he shakes awake slowly, due to some noise in the tv and struggles to slowly move the remote and turn it off without any movement because he was too scared of waking you up.

you had obliged into watching a romcom for the sake of mingyu but deep down he did feel like it was because after a jumpscare or two even you were kinda scared, not that you would ever admit it.

he strokes your hair gently so if he moves it doesn't wake you up suddenly and scare you, and then he gets up from under you as silently as possible and makes sure you're asleep, which thankfully, you are.

he steps inside the bedroom, turning on the lights and sets up the bed, complete with the blanket on the side folded away to accommodate you and then to be over you.

and he comes back, and again gently kisses your forehead before picking you up, scared that it will wake you up but sleeping on the sofa is a 2 days worth of back pain because of the cramped space and he does not want that to happen to you again.

when he lays you down, you curl up to snuggle yourself and he tucks the blanket to cover you.

admiring the scene just standing there for a bit.

and then he got into bed beside you, pulling up the covers above his shoulders and facing your side.

goodnight.

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consistencynevermether · 9 months

Text

Breaking down walls- Astarion x reader

Astarion x "uses humor to cope" reader, second person POV, 1.4k words, gn reader

tw- Mentions of Cazador, nothing else really?

a/n- ive been so obsessed with this little dude i love him sm. this is my first time writing fanfic online so any advice is welcome :)

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You had never been good at genuine emotions. It was always so much easier to joke about such things, as a way to make people feel less shitty about their situation than to actually talk about the reality of things.

It’s what you had done with Karlach, making up all sorts of outrageous stories about the fun you and your best friend could get into once she was free from the furnace that burned inside of her. Even though deep down you had no idea how to free her from the flames.

You had done it with Gale, making up jokes about his stereotypical “wizards tower” whenever he was feeling down about Mystra. Even though deep down you had no idea how he was supposed to cope with what she demanded of him.

It was easy to joke. To make people feel good and laugh for a short amount of time. That’s what you told yourself.

But the truth was, the alternative was hard. Feelings, reality, genuine bonds, they all meant you had to put down your walls. And the other person had to do the same. And deep down, you feared letting down your walls for someone, only for them to keep theirs up.

It was probably why you liked Astarion so much. While you put up a front of jokes, he puts up a front of flirty advances. Both of you knew you were putting on an act, yet neither minded. Neither dared try to climb the other's wall.

And so the two of you formed a bit of a routine, he would flirt, and you would tease. Both of you dancing around how you really felt like leaves fluttering in the wind. A subtle glance there and a stray brush of the fingers here made you think, or maybe hope, that he really felt something for you. Just a little. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on your part.

But he’d never seen the sadness in your eyes when he would say those sweet words to you, both knowing he didn’t mean them. And if you had any say in it, he never would. It was better that way. Easier. Safer. And you’d be damned if you ruined the current relationship you had with him. Because at least you got to be close. A few genuine words among a sea of deception was far better than him shutting you out completely. Better savor what little you can have than lose it all right?

That had been your mantra, right up until that night.

You had had a bout of insomnia the night before, and so you had offered to take the first watch tonight. You'd hoped staying up extra late meant that after your watch you would instantly crash and hopefully fix your sleep schedule a little.

It had started a little before midnight, you had heard Astarion mumbling something under his breath, tossing and turning. You had heard somewhere that elves only sleep for about 4 hours, so you figured it was best to leave him be. He’d be up soon anyway.

And that plan worked fabulously. For about 5 minutes until the mumbles became more like cries for help. You knew what, or rather who he was dreaming about, and it hurt to see him in so much pain.

Lifting yourself up from the rock you were seated on, you made your way to shake him awake, only for Astarion to shoot upright as you were about to grab his shoulder.

Your eyes met, only inches apart, your face filled with mild shock and his with horror.

Quickly recovering, you took a step back, giving him proper space so as to not add to his obvious terror. Unfortunately for you, trying to get away meant stumbling over your own crouched form and landing on your rear with a yelp.

For a second you both sat there, you not daring to even breathe too loudly. while he looked at you in slight confusion, though that was mostly covered by the blinding terror still on his face.

You sat there in silence for a few more moments, before your brain finally kicked in and you realized you needed to say something, now. Preferably without sounding like a complete lunatic, freak, or wackjob.

“I-“

you open your mouth to speak, but Astarion beats you to it, his velvety voice cutting through your uncertain, cracking tone.

“You know, you’re not the first person I’ve left speechless, although normally it’s for quite a different reason.”

Astarion's tone was playful, but the slight shake in his voice was obvious. Once again, you couldn’t see beyond the walls he had built.

“Anyways love, sorry for disturbing your watch. Feel free to go b-“

“I was thinking of what to say.”

Your sudden interruption earned an eyebrow raise from the pale elf.

“That hard for you darling? Maybe because you’re stunned by how beautiful I look when asleep?”

He was giving you a way out. A way to laugh this all off and pretend like it never even happened the next morning. If it were any other time you might have taken it. If you didn’t see the fear in his eyes. If you didn’t see the way his hands were still shaking. If deep down, you didn’t want to break down your walls for him.

Before you could think better of it, you opened your mouth.

“I could say that Cazador can’t hurt you anymore. That you're safe here. But you're clearly hurting, so that isn’t true.”

Now it was Astarion’s turn to look shocked. He hadn’t mentioned the dream was about Cazador but he didn’t have to. You knew all the same. He looked like he wanted to say something, to object maybe, but if you didn’t say what you wanted to say now you may never do it again. So you spoke again before he could.

“I could say that I’m going to rip that bastard limb from limb for you, but-“

You shrug and gesture vaguely to the camp around you. The supplies you all had managed to scrounge together, and your weary companions sleeping silently nearby

“We don’t exactly have a plan now, do we? Hells we can’t even figure out how to be rid of this damn tadpole. So saying that’s definitely out, nobody wants to hear empty promises”

A dry bark of laughter escaped Astarion,s lips, probably out of shock from your brutal honesty, but you weren’t done yet.

You opened your mouth one more time, voice shaky but eyes locked onto his all the same.

“I could-

I could tell you that I don’t know everything about your past. About what all he did to you. But I do know that whatever your future holds, I will be there. I will stand beside you and I will not leave. No matter what you choose I will support you. I will stay. And you will not go back Astarion. You will never go back under him. Not while I breathe. Not when you can still fight. You won’t do this alone, I swear that to you.”

And just like that you had broken down your walls. There were no jokes, no double meanings, no way out of it. Because despite the fear, you wanted to be seen. And you wanted to see him too. Not the act that he put up, but the real genuine version of him, scars and all.

Astarion looked at you in silence, it was his turn to be rendered speechless. Despite all your bravado before, this was terrifying. Honestly, jumping into a pit of hungry manticores seemed more appealing than this current conversation. You looked down at the ground, unable to hold his gaze any longer. A million thoughts ran through your mind, but no matter what you wouldn’t take it back. You couldn’t go back to stealing glances at him and smiling at his honeyed words, secretly wishing he’d meant them. Not again, you just ca-

A cool hand against yours stopped your train of thought right in its tracks.

Long, slender, Pale fingers wrapped around yours. And your mind went silent.

You whipped your head up to Astarion, but he wasn’t looking your way. His eyes were focused on the horizon, not even stealing a glimpse in your direction. But he gently weaved your fingers together more. His grasp was firm, yet still slightly shaking.

A crack in his wall. A start. A glimpse at the real Astarion you so desperately wished to see.

You sat together in silence. Your hands never left each other's grasp, not until you were eventually overtaken by sleep.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x mc #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion fic

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elektramustdie · 6 months

Text

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

warnings - unprotected sex ( dont be silly wrap that willy)

The air was cold; your nose turned pink and lips slightly chapped due to the lack of warmth from being out of the covers. But oh, the rest of your body was warm and toasty. From the chin down you were snuggled deep in your duvet, dressed in a pair of underwear only but utterly comfortable because of the sheer body heat he was emitting. You were completely engulfed in him. He was basically lying on top of you, your head resting on his arm and his bare chest pressed to your back with his other arm wrapped snuggly around you. Your legs were intertwined, and his face was buried in your neck, his hot breath comforting against your skin. He was still breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm against your back.

Andy had the same issue with clothing in bed as you did. Neither of you could stand more than one layer on your skin when you were sleeping. For Andy his layer was usually a pair of boxers and that was it, but most nights he was completely nude; for you it was a t shirt or a pair of underwear and nothing else. Last night was one of those nights where Andy couldn t bear a single item of clothing on his body. He just craved the feeling of skin-to-skin in a completely non-sexual comforting way, and with your bodies pressed together all night and the layers of blankets covering you, the cold wasn't an issue and he slept like a baby all night.

He was still sleeping soundly like a baby when you woke up. Your alarm had woken you up easily because you were expecting it to come, but since it was Andy's day off and his only real plan today was to have a good rest and head to the gym, he slept straight through it. He had this remarkable ability to be up at 4:30am most mornings if he had work, then completely sleep the day away if it was his day off.

You, unfortunately, had a virtual meeting at 9am that you had to attend so you had to wake up earlier than usual for the workday. Due to your hybrid schedule you worked from home three days a week and went into the office two. On the days you were from home, most of the office was as well so any essential meetings were pushed back to in-person or booked for the afternoon so everyone could relax a little in the morning.

You were lucky with your job in that way. If Andy happened to have the day off, you'd be able to spend the morning with him then start working, later in the day. Your time management had become near perfect due to working from home so much, so you were usually able to complete your work in fewer hours than the usual workday. And if you needed to work later into the night so you could spend more time with Andy, you'd do it in a heartbeat. Today was unfortunately not one of those days. You wished it was. God, you wished it was. The air outside of the safe cocoon of your bed was too cold, and Andy's arms were so nice and warm you never wanted to leave them. There was just something about being completely surrounded by the love of your life that couldn't compare to anything else, and you wanted to hang onto that feeling forever.

Trying not to wake up your lover, you very gently started to lift the layers of blanket off you so you could try and scoot closer to the edge of the bed and get up. But before you even got the chance of lifting it properly, Andy's arm tightened further around you and you were pulled even closer to him. You let out a little squeak and let go of the blanket, your hand covering Andy's.

"Don't" he groaned, his voice thick and heavy due to barely being awake. He nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, his lips pressing to the junction where your neck met your shoulder. You froze against him, not realising that he had woken up before he started moving.

"Andy, I need to get up. | have a meeting at 9" you sighed, trying not to relax back into his arms and attempting to lift his arm off your body. "No" he mumbled, his fingers digging into your body so you couldn't move his arm off even if you tried. "Andy." You warned, wiggling in his grip. "Come on"

“What time is it?" he ignored your protest and lifted his leg to curl over both of yours, pressing them down onto the bed so you were effectively pinned with nowhere to go.

"It's 8" you replied, eyes closing to try and hide your frustration. He was making this even harder and now you just wanted to melt and pull a sickie so you wouldn't have to do work at all. "Yeah… so you have at least half an ‘our with me. Just stay a bit longer, baby” he mumbled, kissing your skin before digging his forehead into the crook of your neck. The feeling of his lips against your skin had tingles running down your spine, but now definitely wasn’t the time for that.

"I can't, babe. | need to do washing and if| don't make coffee and breakfast, | will not survive the day" you replied, wiggling against him again. “Come on, Andy!"

"I'll do the washing. Now please baby. Stay with me little longer” he pleaded, whining as his hand started languidly stroking your lower belly. Between his mouth ghosting your neck and his fingers now tracing little patterns on your stomach, your clit was tingling, and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. The knowledge that his cock was right there pressed against your ass made it even worse.

“Fine… fine. 10 minutes and I'm putting a timer on" you compromised, reaching for your phone and putting a timer on. He didn't protest and kissed your neck again, smiling happily against your neck because he knew you could never resist him. And he was right, you gave in so easily you should've been ashamed of yourself. But this was Andy, and he was so damn adorable when he had just woken up you couldn't help but give in to his every demand.

Relaxing back into Andy's arms, you let your eyes closed and a light sleep drift over you. You weren't totally asleep, but you were in such a state of relaxation that the 10 minutes felt like two and you were internally screaming when the alarm went off way too soon.

You attempted to lift the covers again, knowing that Andy was awake due to his never-ending caressing on your lower belly. When your hand started lifting it up, Andy's hand clasped around your wrist, stopping you. "Andy" you warned, "I have to get up!"

"No, baby. Please. Just 10 more minutes" he pleaded, kissing your neck with more purpose this time. His mouth ghosted your skin as he pressed kisses in multiple places, his hand creeping lower along your stomach to the waistband of your underwear. It was at this moment that you felt the slow hardening of his cock, pressed right against your ass.

"Andy…" you sighed, back arching as his fingers dipped into your waistband and slid side to side. He was teasing you and showing you his intent all at the same time. With every touch and every kiss at your neck you were growing needier and needier; your pussy getting slicker and slicker. Morning sex with Andy was one of your favourite things in the entire world.

"10 minutes is all | need, lovie. Let me love on you he mumbled, unable to help himself from bending his elbow at your neck so he could grab your breast in a comforting squeeze. Your hands came up to grab his forearm as you started to press your ass back against his cock, showing him with your body that you wanted what he was offering you. When it came to Andy you just couldn't resist and ‘no’ just didn't exist in your vocabulary. Besides, 10 minutes wasn't going to hurt anyone, and you still had plenty of time before your meeting. “Fine, okay. Just… be quick" you panted, your body now feeling too hot after getting so riled up.

“love you so fucking much, y'know that. Love when it's just us like this" he sighed appreciatively, finally releasing your legs from their confides and drawing his own leg back before he hooked his hand under your knee and drew your leg back, so he had proper access to your pussy. Your underwear were pretty flimsy so he didn't feel the need to take them off, and with such limited time it felt like a waste when he could just push them to the side.

“Put me in, baby. Already so hard f'you" He tiled his hips back to give you room while squeezing your breast again, his fingers finding your nipple and casually stroking and tugging at it. The sting was dizzying, making your hand fumble as you nudged your underwear to the side and reached behind you and between your bodies to wrap around his cock. Andy let out a shuddered whimper in your ear at the feeling of your hand grabbing his cock. He was already so hard just like he said but you gave him a few tugs anyway and guided him to your pussy, his tip sliding between your folds then pressing to your entrance. As soon as he was in position, he nudged his hips forward and started sliding slowly into you.

You let out a choked moan at the feeling of his cock pushing past your entrance for the first time, the sensitive nerves in that area being stimulated all at once. He made sure to be gentle as your hand disappeared from his cock and grabbed onto his forearm again, knowing that you hadn't been prepped with any fingers beforehand. ‘Oh god, Andy…" you whimpered, head tilting back onto his shoulder. “1 know… | know baby. Feels so fucking good" he moaned back, right into your ear. He kept pressing inside you until he couldn't move any longer, then he paused to give you a moment to adjust to the ache his cock had caused.

"Move… please” you whispered, reaching back to grab onto his hip and dig your fingers there. Andy loved that, and the appreciative moan he let out when your nails dug into his toned hip showed it. You couldn't help but smile at his reaction, but it was quickly replaced with a gaped mouth as he started rocking into you gently.

After a few thrusts he was fully sheathed inside you and was able to thrust easier and smoother. He got in a steady rhythm quickly, slow languid thrusts but hard and firmly stimulating your g-spot. His hand pulling your leg back gave him the perfect access to you, your bodies rocking together with every thrust.

"Oh baby… feels so good" you whimpered, back arching against his. ‘Sweat was starting to collect on your bodies, even though everything so far had been done with little exertion. alert to everything the other person did. Maybe it was the early morning sensitivity your bodies had before truly being awake, or the cold air that made you so sensitive to each other's touch. Your breathing, little readjustments of fingers or grips, the way Andy's breathing had grown heavier and heavier in your ear. Every little movement was sending you wild. “Touch your clit baby, want you to cum" he mumbled, unable to reach your clit with how full his hands were. He decided to switch breasts at this moment, making sure the other was properly stimulated as well. The more he played with your nipples the puffier and redder they became, and his eyes became fixated on them and the way they bounced with every rocking movement.

Your hand reached down to connect to your clit and the moment you did you could just tell it wouldn't be long before you were orgasming. When you two had morning sex like this it barely lasted a full 10 minutes like Andy claimed it needed. It wasn't a matter of trying to last long or have long foreplay or multiple rounds, it was only about intimacy and love and something quick and special to start your day off well. Andy had a theory about what your morning did to the rest of the day. He claimed that the way you started your day defined the rest of it. A morning well spent doing what you loved - whether that be yoga, a few pages of your favourite book, a catch up on your phone (his least favourite thing in the world), or morning sex with the love of your life ~ produced a wonderful day compared to one where you slept through your alarm or woke up in a cold bed with your lover nowhere to be seen.

So today, today was going to be a wonderful day. "Andy" you whimpered, your fingers digging into his ass to draw him closer while you tilted your head in search for his lips. “Kiss… please”

“'m right here, angel. Right here" he soothed, adjusting his body so he was propped up on the elbow underneath your head and hovered slightly above you instead of directly behind you. With this new angle he was deeper and firmer against your g-spot and it had you gasping.

Your hand that was on his ass came up to cup his jaw, guiding his mouth down to connect with yours. The morning breath didn't matter, neither did the fact that your hair was a rat's nest and you both still had sleep in your eyes. It was just a kiss of utter love and desperation, your mouths pressed together only for a second before you had to break off to breathe. The room was filled with simple sounds; your heavy panting, the wet sound of Andy's cock sliding in and out of your pussy, his balls slapping against your ass. You were so close to coming you could barely think, and your body was growing hotter and tensing up in preparation for it. Andy was getting closer to, his thrusts growing sloppier and his abs contorting and aching.

"Gonna cum baby, you nearly there?" he asked, kissing you gently even though he already knew the answer. He knew the feeling of your impending orgasm around his cock like the back of his hand and he also knew every other visible sign your body gave when you were nearly there. Still, he liked to hear it. He loved to hear that he was the one to make you come, that you were getting close for him and him only. "Yes… so close.. So so close" you sighed, cradling his jaw so he wouldn't part any further than the millimetre distance between your mouths. "Just keep going, don't stop baby" you rubbed your fingers harder against your clit, feeling that tingly sensation that arrived right before you came.

"Won't stop, don't worry" he assured you, kissing you again and sliding his hand further up your thigh so he could dig his fingers right into the sensitive meaty part. That usually did it and tonight was no different. You were already so on edge that the dig of his nails into your inner thigh was all it took for your body to seize and those delicious waves of pleasure to roll through you.

With a whimper of Andy's name, you pressed your mouth to his once again, his hips stuttering as he came hard into you. His hand dropping your leg to cup your face in return, moaning into your mouth and holding you so close to him. You both carried out your highs just like this, panting and whimpering into each other's mouths and refusing to unglue your bodies from each other.

“What time is it?" Andy breathed, caressing his fingers along your cheek. He still hadn't slid out of you yet, neither of you wanting to move a muscle. You reached behind you and grabbed your phone to show him the time: 8:19am. He smirked and slid his hand down from your face to. cup just underneath your jaw. "Did it in only 9 minutes and now we still have 11 until you absolutely must be up for work" he raised a brow suggestively. You knew what he was suggesting; that mischievous glint in his eyes now that he was wide awake and at his full annoying self. After giving you a cream pie, Andy loved to jump straight in the shower with you and wash you clean, which usually ended with his fingers fucking his cum back into you and making you orgasm again. Or, a round two where he used his cum as lube to fuck another load into you. It was soft and full of heated kisses, something that took a lot longer than 11 minutes. “Andy, we can't" you gave him a look that meant ‘don't argue’ but he completely ignored it anyway. "Come on, just a quick shower. 10 minutes tops" he bit his lip to hide a cheeky grin, his fingers caressing down your neck and making you dangerously close to screaming.

“Fine, but we get in and get out. Understand? No funny business" you

warned, waving your finger in his face. He laughed and caught your hand, pressing kisses to your fingertips. “That, I can do" That, he cannot do. His '10 minutes tops' turned into 20 minutes when he decided to get on his knees and lick you clean instead of washing you clean. Still… you wouldn't have traded your 40-minute wakeup call for anything.

#smut fic #andy biersack #black veil brides #andy sixx #emo

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