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jjongslutz · 4 months

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이희승 HEESEUNG 💋 YOU'RE STILL A VIRGIN? [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH you realize you never completed your most important new year's resolution: losing your virginity. luckily, your roommate is willing to help you out with that

WARNINGS ⨯ smut, porn with a smidge of plot for context, not proofread cuz who needs that, fingering, orgasm denial (briefly), missionary, very vanilla sex, heeseung's kinda awkward #pathetic_men

WORD COUNT ⨯ 3.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . first work of the year!! sorry for taking an impromptu break so suddenly, but my works will still be coming out slowly as of now, so thank you for your patience 🫶

# TAGLIST ! @wonkifangirl @chlorinecake @sunjaywoning @jaeyunthejakesim @deobitifull @notevenheretbh1 @jvngw0nlvr @jongszn @ineedsomezzz @haelahoops @seongslutt @fakeuwus @leeheeheeseung @aheewonenthusiast @lprww @wonsbaer @heeseungssidechick @smisworld @rayofsunshineeee @starrypen @heerated @snwosgf @nycapartmentsworld @sooyeonvida @dear-hoon @nikiiitties

“We never finished sharing our new year’s resolutions.”

You stop mid-bite into your pancakes. You and Heeseung had spent all morning making them, finally testing out the new oven you got after the last one broke down during another pancake morning. It survived, luckily. There’s only the taste-test left, but Heeseung’s comment catches you so off guard, you put the fork back down.

“New year’s resolutions?” you repeat. “You mean the ones from basically last year?”

He nods, shoving his first bite in. He hums at the taste. Success. “Yeah, we made those lists and started sharing but then—” Heeseung tilts and quirks his brow in thought. “—I can’t even remember. We probably got distracted, but either way, we never made sure we both completed our lists.”

Chuckling awkwardly, you keep your eyes on the plate. “I don’t even know if I still have mine—”

“I do,” Heeseung interrupts. “We put them in that box, remember? I found it this morning, that’s why I thought to bring them up, ha.”

“You didn’t, er, read them, did you?”

Heeseung shakes his head, chewing through another bite. “I thought it’d be fun to go through them and see what we’ve done or not.” He lightly taps his fork around his plate. “We’ve got a few days before the new year starts, no plans, I don’t know…”

“No, no, yeah, I get it,” you assure, nodding quickly. “I just, um, they were stupid. I was stupid. This year changed me, you know?”

Your roommate looks at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “Oh yeah?” He watches you nod again. “All the more reason to get them.” And before you know it, he’s rushing to his room to, you assume, get the box he’d mentioned earlier.

It’s not long before he’s practically skipping back into the kitchen-dining area bringing the box. Tossing his plate aside, he sets the box in between you two and sits back down. You’re anxious at how he unfolds the lid and pulls out two sheets of crumpled paper.

“Yours was the one with the rip at the top,” you say, reading the questions in his mind. Your face flushes as you realize that’ll only prompt him to take it out the other first.

He smiles at you before hiding his face behind the paper. He begins to read it out loud. “Resolution one: Learn how to make (good) pancakes—” Grabbing his fork, he clinks it twice against the porcelain. “Check. Number two: Make weekly savings—Check, right?”

You hum, your leg shaking beneath the table.

“Alright, and then—” He lowers the paper. Your eyes widen. “Lose my virginity?”

“Okay!” you say overenthusiastically. “See! I was being stupid, such a dumb thing to write on a new year’s resolution list, right? Haha, so funny, let’s just throw these out—”

“Wait, but we can cross this off, though, right? You had that boyfriend?”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” you clarify. “He was… gross. I never really liked him like that, so it just never happened. It’s whatever, I’m a virgin, okay, let’s move on. Isn’t the next thing I put down like eat more salads—”

“You’re still a virgin?”

You look at him bewildered. What was up with the intonation? Was it really shocking? Why does he even care? You suppose he’s always been the nosy type, just never assumed it would translate to this, as well.

He seems to realize the second meaning to his words and fumbles to take them back. “Okay, not like—I didn't mean it in a weird way, I’m just surprised that you’re... you know?”

“It’s… whatever,” you clarify. “It’s fine. It’ll happen at the right moment, right? That’s what they all say.” You'd shovel another bite into your mouth and you can’t help but taste the bitterness from your words with the sweetness of the syrup. “I’ll get over it when it’s done and gone.”

Heeseung clears his throat, paper discarded to the side, his eyes fixed on your plate in deep thought. “Do you…”

You raise a brow.

“Do you want my help?”

In your defense, you really hate being a virgin. Not that it’s embarrassing or shameful to be one, but the fact that you swore to yourself that you wouldn't be a virgin anymore since last year makes you want to crumble up inside.

You just don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your past self. Imagine her laughing at you? That’s a new low.

Which leads to this moment right now. Laying in Heeseung’s bed, in Heeseung’s room, waiting for Heeseung to come back into said room with the “supplies” he was rushing out to get.

The door slowly swings open as Heeseung pushes it with his back, his hands full. He makes eye contact with you and a pout makes its way across his lips. “You’re still wearing your clothes?”

Your eyes snap open wider. “Yes?!”

“We’re gonna have sex, Y/N, your clothes aren’t supposed to be on.” He smiles at you as he sets down lube and condoms.

A wave of relief washes over you when you realize he’s just teasing. Heeseung’s a gentleman, but it’s not like you've gotten the chance to know the side of him you two swore to never let you meet. He could’ve been a weirdo creep for all you knew, as long as he was paying his half of the rent it never mattered until right now.

“Do you want me to turn around when you take them off?” Yep, just the same old awkwardly sweet Heeseung you’ve always known.

You smile, albeit nervously. “You’ll see me naked anyway, might as well put on a strip performance to get you in the mood.”

He laughs at your sarcasm, then points to the lights. “We could turn those off if you want.”

For a moment, you consider it. If not for the hopes of Heeseung seeing the least possible, but for the ambiance. Do people leave the lights on or off during sex? Not like you know. Ultimately, you shake your head, getting off from the bed and sticking your hands under the hem of your shirt. “Ready?” you ask him, though the question is more internalized.

His hum is muffled by his hands reaching at the collar of his shirt.

At once, you two pull your shirts off together.

Standing bare chest to bare chest - with bra - you eye him carefully. “You take your shirt off from the top?”

“What?”

You mirrored his previous action. “You took your collar and pulled your head through the neck hole first—” your words muffle as you reenact it sloppily. “Normal people take their arms out first.”

Heeseung stiffles a laugh behind his hand. “Aren’t you supposed to try to seduce me?”

“Is this not sexy?”

“Oh, please, go on, you’re making me hard.”

The two of you laugh and you realize you’re not so nervous anymore. The anxious jitters left your hands and you can feel your muscles relaxing. It’s just Heeseung. Just Heeseung.

As he recovers from a fit of laughter, you look at him in a way you haven’t taken the chance to ever since you met almost two years ago. His arms that flex when he wraps them around himself. His smile which switches to a sly smirk when he’s resisting the urge to laugh louder. His hair that falls neatly into place, over his eyes that glint to the point you can’t take your gaze away from them.

Heat rushes to your cheeks.

He’s attractive. Yeah, that’s been obvious.

Your type? Maybe…

But this is different. And, oh god, he’s going to have sex with you.

Heeseung clears his throat, snapping you out of your daze.

“Pants?” he asks cautiously. His eyes are brimmed with concern, probably sensing your confused thoughts, clearly not understanding what you’re telling yourself.

You respond by tugging at your sweatpant laces, letting them drop down dramatically. Heeseung keeps his eyes glued to your movement, eyes widening at the sight of your bare legs and white panties. He quickly reaches for his belt.

To your surprise, you can see that he’s, at the very least, getting hard. Maybe it’s nerves. You try not to think too much about the possible influence the sight of your almost-bare body has on him.

Still, to test the waters and ease or completely disrupt your mind, you ask, “Can you help me with my bra?”

He fumbles an answer, you’re pretty sure you hear a ‘yes’ through his blabs, as he kicks out of his pants fully and stumbles to your side of the bed. You turn your back to him, giving him the cue by raising your hair away from the clasp.

Shivers run down your spine at his gentle, warm touch on your skin. You never knew you were sensitive, but with every simple movement, every brush against your back has you feeling goosebumps running up your arms.

Heeseung’s breath is hollow behind you.

When the clasp is finally undone, you pull your arms out of the straps, letting the material drop to the floor with your other discarded clothes.

You turn to face Heeseung, his eyes saying more than any words could mean. Stunned, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whisper in return, eyes drifting down to his mouth.

He doesn't hesitate to lean in. His arms naturally slide around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as his lips hungrily crash into yours. You gasp through the initial shock of ferocity, relaxing into his hold with your hands coming up to the nape of his neck.

His fingers squeeze your skin pulling a sound from your mouth, muffled by his lips. You don’t even notice the way his knees push you back until you’re laying on the bed, lips still attached to Heeseung’s, but even those pull away eventually. You almost get up onto your elbows to chase after his touch, but stop yourself at the sight of his intense gaze.

Your gazes lock with each other for a moment, before he finally breaks contact to rush to the bedside cabinet where the lube bottle sits. He pours a generous amount on his fingers, rubbing the gel slowly. He eyes the way it reflects the light and this one reaction makes you think he’s never seen it before, but you doubt it — you’ve heard his sexual escapades thanks to your graciously thin walls.

“I’m going to finger you first,” Heeseung interrupts your thoughts.

You simply hum in return, letting your legs fall apart for him to get back into place, between them.

Heeseung has one hand on your thigh, the other levitates over your skin with nearly-dripping lube, but his eyes are on yours, waiting for another nod before he can continue.

Giving him the signal, you aren’t prepared for the chill that runs down your spine at the cold sensation of the lube on your sensitive skin. Soon enough, though, your gasps turn to gentle hums as Heeseung draws little circles on your bare pussy.

“This okay?”

You nod needily.

One finger finally intrudes, swimming through your walls and curls to find that certain spot. Your hips roll into it—you never thought it'd be this different from your own fingers.

“More,” you whimper.

“Already?” Heeseung teases, but you can hear partial genuinity in his tone.

Wordlessly, your hand reaches down to his, pulling at it to get another finger inside of you.

Heeseung chuckles in disbelief, but doesn't disobey your request.

Two fingers in and you’re letting soft gasps escape your lips, eyes already threatening to roll back at the rhythmic pattern Heeseung’s keeping up. He pushes in, pulls out, pushes back in and curls into you. You match his pace with your hips, hoping to deepen his touch. He’s so close, so close to where you need him.

Meanwhile, his thumb rolls gently over your clit to ease the tension of the stretch. It helps, making your head spin and forcing you to focus entirely on the pleasure you feel, rather than the pain.

Heeseung doesn't warn you when he slips in a third, but you’re busy throwing your head back, moaning to tell him off for it.

“Fuck,” you whisper to the ceiling. “‘Is so good.”

Your back arches as Heeseung’s fingers reach your G-spot, curling and tickling the bundle of nerves, ripping out more muffled moans, your hand thrown to your mouth not to disturb the neighbours.

“Right there!” you moan. “Right—shit, yes—Right there!” When he keeps at it, you can't hold on much longer. “Fuck, I’m so close—”

And then it’s gone.

All the pleasure is ripped away from you as Heeseung pulls out of you coldly, barely looking your way as he turns to the bedside cabinet.

“Hey,” you whine, albeit childishly.

It’s as if something clicks and he turns back to you. “Sorry,” he singsongs out. “I didn’t want you to come so soon, I still have to actually fuck you, right?”

You pout, but ultimately he’s right. That’s what you're here for. “Fine.”

He fumbles with the condom packet, eventually giving up at going at it with his lubed-fingers and rips the package with his teeth.

“I could’ve helped,” you tell him, smiling teasingly.

“I got it. I got it.” He waves his hand at you before he uses that same hand to roll down the condom and—Holy. Shit. He’s packing.

You never took the time to think about his size, though you probably would've determined it was a decent size from the outline of it when he's chilling on the couch with sweats on.

But now that it's out, hard and flush against his toned abs? You take a deep breath and try not to think too much about how it must taste, how it’d feel to have him down your throat—as if you even know how to give a proper blowjob. Maybe he could guide you, holding your head from the back and pushing it back and forth rhythmically up and down his cock and—

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’re sure about this?”

He’s pumping his cock as he asks. You resist the urge to lick your lips.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m ready.” And there’s no lie in your words.

Heeseung crawls back onto the bed once more, staying on his knees when his body is lined up with yours. He nods to himself and you before lining up his dick with your entrance, one hand falling to the side of your head, the other resting on your lower stomach as he pushes in slowly.

The intrusion is unfamiliar. The stretch hurts more than expected. Yet, your mouth is agape in frozen pleasure — Heeseung let his hand fall lower and is now drawing circles on your clit to ease the tension.

He keeps his thumb on your pussy while slowing his movement to a stop. “Tell me when I can move.”

Instead of relaxing into the stretch, preparing yourself for more friction, you focus entirely on Heeseung’s movements on your clit. Rolling the bud of pleasure between his two fingers, your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

You test the waters by flexing your core muscles, squeezing your walls against Heeseung’s cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips forward at once, but he quickly stops himself. Heeseung looks up at you with cutely worried wide eyes. “Shit, sorry—Are you okay?”

You giggle. “Go!” you say between laughs, rolling your hips down to get him going.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He quickly resumes his previous thrust, your legs are naturally pushed apart to give him more access—moans spill from your lips at the newfound depth he reaches.

Heeseung’s head dips, his hair falling over his face, but does nothing to hide his expressions. You watch him for a moment, reveling in how good your pussy is making him feel. You clench around him again and his mouth falls open. He lets out the most harmonious sound you never expected from him but want to hear again and again.

So, you roll your hips into his, until your lower stomachs are threatening to brush against each other, until Heeseung lowers from his hands to elbows, and your bodies are flushed against each other. Your skins are sticky with sweat, but you can’t be bothered. Not with his rhythmic thrusts reaching so deep inside of you. Not with his fingers still playing with your clit, torturing the bud with nonstop pleasure. Not with his lips so close to your mouth, and your head pulling itself upward to capture them in another kiss.

Your hands snake to the back of his head, curling into his messy hair and pulling gently to bring him closer to you. His free hand finds its way into your hair, too, pushing the flyaways back into the rest of the mess, away from your face, before it rests gently on your neck, guiding you in the kiss.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers into your mouth as your walls clench around him again.

Your head spins at his low tone, pleasure bubbling in your stomach in a way it never has before. “I’m—Shit—I’m so close!”

Heeseung takes this as a signal to speed up his fingers on your clit, and slows down his thrusts, deepening them with each push in.

“Come on, come for me.”

And you do.

So much, like never before.

Your back arches into him, head thrown back, letting out a sinful string of moans. You’d curse from the pleasure, but your thoughts aren't coherent enough to form words.

You’re frozen in place, legs shaking as Heeseung pulls out to finish himself off. He jerks off into the condom on top of your wasted body, coming undone as soon as your dazed eyes meet his hungry gaze.

He doubles over, landing on his hand, face mere inches away from yours. “Fuck,” he says.

“Fuck,” you repeat, a giggle in your tone.

“Congratulations,” he says, rolling onto his back to be laying beside you. “You’re no longer a virgin.”

Your weak arms raise in a small celebration. “Yay.”

“How was it?”

You can’t even respond, hands coming up to cover your flushed face. You can feel Heeseung’s smirk behind them.

“I’ll take that as good.” Then, after a beat. “Does that mean you'd want to do it again?”

Your hands fall flat to your sides in one quick movement. “What?”

“There’s so much more I can teach you.”

“No,” you say while shaking your head. He looks defeated, you almost want to reach up and pet him like a dog. “Not until you buy me dinner.”

3K notes · View notes

shadowtriovibes · 8 months

Text

fever (what a lovely way to burn)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: M

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, friends to lovers, character with fever/illness, mild sensual content

Summary: request: "since you saved Sebastian from Azkaban, he has met you in the common room every morning and you have gone to breakfast together. One morning he isn't there so you go to his room looking for him to find him in bed, poorly."

“I’m disgusting,” he groans. “I can’t stop coughing, I’m sweating everywhere, I feel like I’m going to be sick but there’s nothing to–” He cuts himself off with several dry, pathetic coughs. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him firmly. “Ominis is going to go to class and come back this afternoon with some Muggle medicinals. In the meantime, I’m going to help you eat a bit of food and have a bath.” “N-no, absolutely not,” he stammers. “You think I want you seeing me like this any more than you already have?”

Monday, October 5, 1891

Even a month after the start of term, it’s unseasonably warm in the Highlands. The heat from the dog days of summer persists well into the arrival of autumn, permeating the ancient stone walls of the castle and settling like a thin layer of fog across Hogwarts’ students.

Professor Sharp’s N.E.W.T.s-level Potions class meets promptly at nine o’clock every morning. Despite the early time slot, the dungeon-level classroom starts to become warm rather quickly thanks to the heat of two dozen bodies and six potion stations, each with their flickering flames preheating the students’ pewter cauldrons.

Your little trio is usually the last to arrive from breakfast. Sebastian sidles up to the doorway just as Professor Sharp is preparing to close it, gallantly offering to hold it open for you and Ominis as you take your time sauntering down the hall, arms linked together and chatting happily about the latest gossip to have surfaced in the Great Hall.

Then you settle in at the potions table squarely in the middle of the classroom, which you’d unabashedly claimed at the start of term. (Ominis can hear Professor Sharp most clearly here, and Sebastian, as always, gets to remain the center of attention.)

Finally, with Ominis’ dictation quill hovering over his parchment, Professor Sharp begins his daily discourse.

“Dittany, as you’ll recall, is one of the most useful herbs for creating a wide range of healing draughts,” he explains, showing off a tendril of the fiercely pink plant clipped from Professor Garlick’s greenhouse just that morning. “Can anyone give me an example of one?”

“Wiggenweld Potion, sir,” Amit chimes in.

“Very good, Mister Thakkar,” Sharp replies with an approving nod. “Another?”

Adelaide Oakes timidly raises her hand. “Essence of Dittany, sir?”

“Well done, Miss Oakes,” he murmurs. “Though not as effective as a properly-brewed bottle of Wiggenweld, dittany on its own can be used to craft a powerful restorative tonic – especially useful in preventing the occurrence of scars. Five points to Hufflepuff.”

Then Professor Sharp glances around the room expectantly. “One more, perhaps?”

“Moustache paste, sir?” Sebastian mumbles under his breath, and you quickly elbow him in the side.

“What was that, Mister Sallow?” Professor Sharp drawls.

Sebastian bites the inside of his cheek. “Er, the Antidote to Common Poisons, perhaps?”

Professor Sharp levels Sebastian with a dubious look. “I’m afraid not. While dittany is a broadly useful herb, its powers are generally limited to healing, not curing. When considering its uses, think ‘paper cut,’ not ‘influenza.’”

You raise your hand and ask, “Sir, are there any potions that do cure illnesses?”

“Yes, in fact,” Professor Sharp answers. “The Pepperup Potion will quickly resolve any common colds or cases of the flu, with the enigmatic side effect of generating steam that will pour from your ears for hours on end.”

You wince a bit. “I suppose that’s worth being over a cold in a day.”

“I should think so,” he replies with a slight grin. “So has the majority of the wizarding world since the twelfth century.”

As Professor Sharp segues into a lecture on the history of healing potions, you pull out a piece of parchment and start to take down some notes.

“Sebastian,” you hiss. “What does Pepperup Potion taste like?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he says. “I’ve only had it once, and it was a decade ago.”

You frown. “Why’s that?”

“I can’t drink it,” Sebastian says simply. “I’m allergic to bicorn horn.”

You blink, surprised. “You’re… allergic? How did you even discover that about yourself?”

“Oh, it was gruesome,” Ominis chimes in gleefully.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Well, I had my suspicions as a child when my parents gave me Pepperup Potion and steam poured out of my ears, nose, and mouth for a full week. Simply suffering through the cold would have been better.”

“And then?” you prompt.

“Well… in our third year, Anne and I made some Polyjuice Potion,” Sebastian admits, glancing around furtively. “We wanted to see if we could attend our classes all day as each other without anyone noticing the difference.”

“And Polyjuice Potion has bicorn horn,” you surmise.

Ominis looks delighted. “They were both in the Hospital Wing for three days, stuck as half-formed versions of each other.”

You gasp in disbelief. “That sounds awful!”

“It was the one and only time in their lives they were truly identical!” Ominis crows. “‘Sebastianne,’ we called them.”

You can’t help but giggle at Ominis’ delight while Sebastian sulks.

“In any case,” Sebastian grumbles, “I can’t take Pepperup Potion anymore, but luckily I never get sick.”

“Really?” you ask skeptically. “Everyone gets a common cold once in a while.”

“Not me,” he says proudly. “I haven’t been sick since I was a child. At the very least, if I have been sick, it must have been so mild that I wasn’t slowed down in the slightest – no need for Pepperup, thanks.”

“I’d be careful, Sebastian,” Ominis demurs. “Wouldn’t want to tempt fate, would we?”

With a lazy shrug, Sebastian turns to his potions station and begins to roughly chop some dittany leaves for a new healing potion Sharp intends to teach that afternoon. He glances up surreptitiously while you tie your hair back with one of those green ribbons you like to keep around your wrist for when the Potions classroom becomes especially humid with cauldron steam.

Though it’s unwise to lose focus while holding a knife, Sebastian has become quite skilled at multitasking while tending to his lovesick heart with stolen glances and half-formed daydreams.

He becomes so distracted staring at the column of your neck that when he suddenly feels a bit dizzy, he merely attributes it to the thick, heavy air in the room.

—

Tuesday, October 6, 1891

“You look dreadful,” you tell Sebastian cheerfully as you take a seat at breakfast.

Across from you, Sebastian looks a sight. His generally unruly hair is sticking up in every direction, and his face, which until this morning had still been sun-kissed and freckled from his time carrying out summer chores in Feldcroft, is ghostly pale.

“Cheers,” he grumbles, his head in his hands as he stares down at a plate full of untouched tattie scones.

You know for a fact they’re his favorite. In fact, you’ve stolen countless scones from the Great Hall on weekends when he treats himself to a bit of a lie-in just to make sure there are some left for when he finally emerges, hair rumpled and cheeks creased with pillow lines.

“Late night?” you ask him as you pour yourself some juice.

“The opposite, actually,” Ominis explains. “Sebastian was asleep before I even finished my Runes assignment last night, and I practically had to drag him out of bed this morning.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” you comment, frowning. “You’re usually up half the night reading. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Sebastian shrugs weakly. “I’m fine, I just… It’s dreadfully warm in the castle, and my head is aching.”

Without thinking, you reach across the table and press the back of your hand against his forehead.

“You’re quite hot,” you mumble.

“Wh-what?” Sebastian stammers, his eyes going wide. “What did you do that for?”

“You have a fever,” you explain to him. “Old Muggle trick. And your eyes are quite glassy. I think you might be coming down with something.”

Ominis unsubtly slides further down the bench.

“I’m not sick,” Sebastian protests. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired.”

You eye him warily, and as if to prove that he’s not ill, Sebastian lifts one of his hoarded scones to his mouth and takes a bite.

“See?” he asks with his mouth full. “M’fine.”

You grimace. “Lovely.”

Sebastian determinedly joins you and Ominis for Potions and manages to remain upright until the very end of class. He sways just a bit as he gathers up his belongings, and you offer him your shoulder while you make your way toward the stairs to Divination.

He balks when he sees the twisting spiral steps.

“On second thought,” he mumbles, “I think I’ll skive off today and get some rest.”

“Will you be alright?” you ask him concernedly. “I can come with you…”

“No, it’s fine,” he insists. “I’ll just lie down for a bit and then I’ll be grand, I promise. Save a seat for me at dinner, will you?”

Later that evening you linger in the Great Hall until the last of dinner melts through the tables down to the kitchens below, but Sebastian never shows up.

—

Wednesday, October 7, 1891

“You do not want to go in there,” Ominis tells you warningly. “Trust me, he’s a mess.”

You scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Sebastian still hasn’t emerged from his dormitory in nearly eighteen hours, and you’re starting to worry for him. Ominis had brought him back some food from dinner the night before, but according to him, it had gone untouched.

When he’d failed to show his face at breakfast, you knew you had to step in.

“He wouldn’t want you to see him like this,” Ominis tries. “Sebastian is hardly a gentleman, but some things are sacred.”

“He’s our best friend,” you remind Ominis. “I really don’t care if he’s not entirely put together.”

Ominis opens his mouth as if to say more, and then seemingly changes his mind.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll tell Professor Sharp you’re tending to Sebastian, and I’ll ask Amit if you can borrow his notes.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Ominis,” you breathe, quickly pulling him in for a hug. “What would we do without you?”

“Rot in Azkaban, most likely,” he grumbles, which… is fair.

Once Ominis leaves for class, you gently knock on the seventh-year boys’ dormitory door. “Sebastian? Can I come in?”

Through the door, you hear him whine, “Go ‘way.”

“Sebastian,” you call out patiently. “Ominis told me you’re sick, and you haven’t gotten out of bed in too long. I’m coming in.”

He protests weakly from his bed as you open the door and slip inside, carefully pressing it closed behind you. As you’d expected, his other roommates have all gone for the day. Only Sebastian remains – or at least, you think it’s Sebastian.

All you can see sticking out from underneath the pile of pilfered blankets on his bed is a mess of curly, brown hair.

“Oh, dear,” you sigh.

“Jus’ leave me alone,” he mumbles from beneath the covers. “...I think I’m sick.”

“Finally facing the music, are you?” you tease him, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over,” he groans. “I’ve never been this ill before.”

“Should I take you to see Nurse Blainey?” you ask him. “I know you can’t have Pepperup Potion, but perhaps she has something else that would help.”

“No,” he sighs. “Ominis already sent for her, she said I’m a dafty and I’ll be fine in a coupl’a days.”

You bite back a laugh at Sebastian’s deteriorating accent; for how posh he usually sounds, apparently that rougher Feldcroft vernacular tends to slip out when he’s feeling poorly.

“Poor lamb,” you croon. “Can I do anything for you? Have you eaten?”

“M’not hungry,” he sulks. “Ominis made me drink some water before he left.”

You hum softly as you start to slowly pull his piles of blankets down low enough that you can see his face. Quickly you realize that Ominis had been exaggerating – Sebastian doesn’t look entirely a mess.

His eyes are a bit wet and glassy, you observe, and his nose is bright red from persistent rubbing with a handkerchief abandoned on his bedside table. He looks a little swollen beneath his jaw, but otherwise, he looks like he’d merely stayed awake all night, and you’ve seen a sleepless Sebastian countless times throughout your friendship.

There’s a bit of stubble along his jaw that you’ve never noticed before; it’s the same rich brown color as his wild, unkempt hair.

(Honestly, how dare he still look handsome even when he’s ill.)

“Hello, you,” you tease him in a voice just above a whisper. “Was beginning to wonder if you were even there under all those blankets.”

“I’m cold,” he complains.

“That’s the fever talking,” you tell him. “You should probably–”

But before you can tell him that he’d be better off with less covers, the blankets shift lower and you realize he’s not wearing a pajama shirt.

(Your disobedient mind immediately raises the question of whether he’s wearing anything at all, and subsequently, if you could get away with having a look. Immediately you scold that particular thought away.)

“Er, you should… don’t overheat yourself,” you finish lamely.

He’s flushed down to his chest, fever-pale skin burning red where the blankets had been piled on top of him. You discover that he’s got a thin smattering of hair here, too; he’s grown into the body of a man much sooner than many of your classmates, you imagine.

Sebastian watches as you swallow, your own eyes raking down his body.

“You’re missing class,” he observes. “You never miss class.”

“It’ll be alright, just this once,” you say softly.

For a moment you aren’t sure if you’re talking about missing class or being in Sebastian’s bed.

Then Sebastian suddenly starts to cough and hastily reaches for his handkerchief. He sounds utterly pathetic as he coughs and groans in discomfort, rolling onto his side and looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

“My chest hurts,” he whimpers. “I’ve been coughing all night.”

You reach across him and gently stroke the backs of your fingers down the middle of his chest. His skin is noticeably hot to the touch and damp with sweat.

“I can put some Muggle herbs in a warm compress for your chest,” you offer. “I know they’re not as effective as a potion would be, but it always helped me feel better when I was a child.”

“Alright, I suppose that’d be nice,” he mumbles.

But when you move to stand, he quickly snags your wrist.

“Wait,” he says. “Er… where would you go? For how long?”

“Well, I’ll have to go see if Nurse Blainey has any, and if not I can go look at the edge of the Forbidden Forest,” you explain. “It might take a bit of time, I’m afraid.”

“Then, just… stay,” he whines. “Keep me company? That’s better than some plain old herbs.”

You shift onto the bed, curling up on your side behind Sebastian. It’s a tight fit, and you’re dangerously close to falling off the edge, but you’re able to leave enough space between your bodies that you can make the argument that it’s friendly, and it’s fine.

“Can I rub your back?” you ask him softly. “It might help with the soreness.”

You have no idea if it will help his aching body, but you’re eager to try it nonetheless.

“Go on,” Sebastian rasps. “I… I might fall asleep.”

“You should,” you croon. “Your body’s telling you that you need to rest.”

“S’pathetic,” he grumbles. “I never get sick.”

“You had a good run,” you tease him. “But the common cold comes for us all eventually.”

He falls silent after that, his leanly muscled arms curled around a pillow while you stroke your hand up and down the length of his back. He’s so warm, and you’re a bit anxious about letting him ride out a fever as long as he has, but soon he drifts off to sleep.

You learn two things while he rests: he snores when he’s on his back, and he frowns whenever you take your hands off of him.

—

Thursday, October 8, 1891

Ominis had managed to talk you into returning to your own dormitory for the night, promising to look after Sebastian while you got some rest. When you return the following morning, you find him in even worse condition.

His sheets are bunched down to his hips, and he’s still bare from the waist up. His entire body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, and the bags underneath his eyes have worsened – despite how much rest he’s getting, he seems more fatigued than ever.

“What happened?!” you ask Ominis.

“He’s had a fever all night,” Ominis says grimly, looking just as worn out as Sebastian. “He hasn’t eaten a thing, and I’ve barely been able to get him to drink some water.”

“Oh, Seb,” you sigh, taking his clammy hand and resting it in your lap as you sit on the edge of the bed. “You poor thing.”

“I think I’m dying,” he rasps. “This is it, right?”

“Hush now, there’s no need to be so dramatic,” you gently scold him, pressing your hand to his forehead. “You’re quite warm, but I’m not worried about your imminent demise.”

“I’m disgusting,” he groans. “I can’t stop coughing, I’m sweating everywhere, I feel like I’m going to be sick but there’s nothing to–”

He cuts himself off with several dry, pathetic coughs.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him firmly. “Ominis is going to go to class and come back this afternoon with some Muggle medicinals. In the meantime, I’m going to help you eat a bit of food and have a bath.”

“N-no, absolutely not,” he stammers. “You think I want you seeing me like this any more than you already have?”

“You’ll feel better,” you promise him. “And I swear I won’t, er… look, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You argue back and forth until Sebastian, utterly depleted of his typical stubbornness, loses energy and gives in. Ominis promises to stop by J. Pippin’s to see if the shopkeeper has any draughts suitable for Sebastian’s allergies before leaving to go to class, and you help Sebastian get out of bed with his arm around your shoulders and your own around his waist.

(He’s got pants on, thank Merlin, but you have to help him into a pair of pajamas to make the walk to the Slytherin baths.)

Sebastian balks when you enter the boys’ baths, but you both quickly learn there are no enchantments in place to keep you from joining him. You offer him an arm to lean on while he takes off his pajamas and coughs – this time pointedly – for you to turn around while he sinks into the lukewarm bath you’d drawn.

“This does feel nice,” he finally says once he’s settled in the opaque, murlap-scented water.

“Good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice how your voice has gone up a bit higher than usual. “I’ll be back in a few moments with some fresh pajamas for you.”

“I’ll try not to drown while you’re gone,” he drawls, and even though he still sounds exhausted, you smile to yourself knowing that the bath is already helping him feel more like his usual self.

Hogwarts’ house elves were exceptionally fast in tidying up the boys’ dormitory while the two of you were out, so when you finally lead a clean, dry Sebastian back to his room, you’re thrilled to find freshly laundered sheets and a new pair of pillows waiting for him.

“Gods, I love magic,” he groans as he collapses into bed.

You stay all afternoon and into the evening. Ominis returns shortly before dinner with a brew from Parry Pippin himself, similar to the Pepperup Potion but with cinnamon instead of powdered bicorn horn.

(Sebastian seems to emit thin tendrils of steam straight from the top of his head after he drinks it, but he perks up all the same.)

Feenky herself brings a tray of soup and some leftover scones from breakfast once Sebastian regains his appetite. While he eats, he tells you about how he used to sit with Anne during the summers when she was particularly ill from her curse.

“At the time, I wondered if my being there was more of a help or a hindrance,” he says ruefully. “She was… hard to read, then. I couldn’t tell if she was annoyed by me or appreciated me staying.”

You pause before shyly asking, “Am I helping? By being here?”

“Of course,” he says without thinking.

“Then I’m sure you were helping Anne, even when she was annoyed,” you tell him reassuringly. “That’s all we ever want to do really, isn’t it? Help the ones we love?”

Sebastian glances up at his tray with an inscrutable expression on his face. His eyes are still glassy and he’s a bit peaky, but the cinnamon-laced, not-quite-Pepperup Potion has restored some of the usual warmth in his gaze.

“Right,” he echoes. “Help the ones we love.”

You end up staying the night in the boys’ dormitory. Only Ominis knows you’re there, as he draws the curtains around the both of you before the boys’ other roommates return from the common room. Given that Sebastian seems to be feeling better already, it’s not strictly necessary.

But it feels nice all the same.

—

Friday, October 9, 1891

Sebastian’s fever finally broke during the night.

When you wake up he’s wrapped around you from behind, one of his legs jammed between yours with his arm curled possessively around your waist.

You’re sweltering, but he’s cool to the touch.

“Sebastian,” you whisper, but he doesn’t answer.

Judging by the way sunlight pours over the top of Sebastian’s bed curtains, it’s well past when you’d usually wake up during the school week. You can’t hear any other snoring boys around you, either.

“Sebastian,” you hiss. “Wake up.”

He groans tiredly into your hair as his arm tightens around your waist. “No.”

“N-no?!” you sputter. “It’s morning! We… we should, er.”

You trail off when you realize you aren’t quite sure what you should be doing. Evidently you’ve missed breakfast, and you’ve likely missed the start of Potions for the third day in a row. Professor Sharp will have no choice but to give you a detention; just as well, you suppose, as you can use the time to make up what you’ve missed.

But now that the damage is done…

“How are you feeling?” you ask him softly, your eyes still fixed on the green curtains in front of your face.

“Loads better,” he says, only this time his lips are pressed against the sensitive spot behind your ear.

You gasp as he rolls more of his weight toward you, pressing you more firmly into the mattress.

“Sebastian…” you sigh.

“I had a dream about you last night,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper beneath your ear. “I’ve heard Pepperup Potion can give one strange dreams.”

“St-strange?” you whisper back. “Why was it a strange dream?”

“I suppose it wasn’t really ‘strange,’” he acquiesces. “But it was nice. Really nice.”

“Tell me about it?” you ask breathlessly.

“Perhaps I’ll show you instead,” he asks, and when you nod, he slides his hand down to your hip and turns you onto your back.

Then quite suddenly he’s leaning over you, one knee still between your thighs. He rests on his elbows so his face is just centimeters from yours, and it’s the first time you’ve gotten a good look at him since the boys put out last night’s fire.

Sebastian looks so much better. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are clear and bright, and the sickly sheen of sweat he’d worn for days is entirely gone. (His hair is still a bird’s nest, but that’s to be expected.)

“We were like this,” he tells you.

“Were we just talking?” you ask him, but you’re met with only silence.

After a beat, he asks you, “Why have you been so kind to me this week?”

“You’re my best friend,” you tell him softly. “I – I wanted to help you feel better.”

“Is that all I am?” he asks. “Am I simply your friend?”

You bite your lip hesitantly and his gaze dips down to your mouth, his brown eyes nearly black in the soft morning light.

“Do you want to kiss me, Sebastian?” you ask.

Rather than answering, he surprises you by leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then he lifts one of his hands to gently tip your face toward his, cradling your jaw while he deepens the kiss into one that’s hardly sweet at all.

It feels like it’s perhaps the first time in days that Sebastian has felt hunger.

You gasp his name into his mouth and then he’s the one biting your lip, just a quick graze of his teeth before he soothes your ensuing whine with another slow kiss. He shifts his weight onto his hip to rest on the mattress beside you, using that leg between yours to coax you into lying next to him. He rewards your body’s assent with a filthy kiss – the kind you’ve only read about in those Muggle romance novels you hide under your pillow, the kind where the hero kisses the girl with his tongue in her mouth and his hand in her blouse.

“Seb,” you moan.

“I didn’t know,” he confesses against your lips.

“Didn’t know what?” you whine.

“I didn’t know you loved me until last night,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours.

You’re so distracted by how red and swollen his lips look that you nearly miss him saying, “You stayed with me all week, you held me, practically healed me, and I still didn’t know.”

“Of course I love you,” you tell him.

“You love Ominis, you love Poppy,” he counters. “This – us – is different. Right?”

And the truth is, you would have done anything you’d done for Sebastian for any one of your friends. You would have helped Poppy into a warm bath and back into bed, and you would have sat at Ominis’ bedside all day and torn up pieces of scone to float on the surface of his soup.

But you would not have let them press you into their bedsheets and trace their lips along your neck, and right now Sebastian is eagerly doing both.

“Yes,” you whimper, both in answer to his question and as a plea for more.

“I love you, too,” he sighs against your jaw. “I have for ages, and I didn’t want you to see me all pathetic and poorly, but you still love me anyway.”

“I’ve loved you through worse,” you quietly remind him.

He nips at your throat for that remark; you’ve both agreed to speak of your fifth year as little as possible. Truly, the only reason you’d ever bring it up now is to remind Sebastian that you’ve long since made your choice – him, over duty and the law and perhaps even reason.

“Stay with me,” he pleads. “We have all morning, we have the dormitory to ourselves. Let me take care of you now.”

He pulls your thigh across his own and tangles his fingers in your sleep-mussed hair, holding you against his warm, bare chest.

“That’s tempting,” you breathe. “B-but perhaps we should check with Nurse Blainey, to see if you’re ready to return to–”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he grinds his hips against yours. There’s no mistaking that he’s aroused, and that alone convinces you that he must be feeling well – you’re positive that he would’ve been too weak for this type of debauchery yesterday morning even if you’d gotten fully nude before him and begged.

“Trust me, I feel excellent,” he moans into your mouth. “Love, please.”

You don’t come up for air for a long while after that. By the time Ominis stops by during lunchtime to check on Sebastian, he nearly trips over your skirt, hastily tossed near the doorway.

“I take it you’re feeling better,” he deadpans.

“That potion of yours worked like a charm, Ominis,” Sebastian drawls. “Cinnamon, who would have thought?”

“I don’t suppose I mentioned that Muggles find cinnamon to be an organic aphrodisiac?” Ominis says innocently. “At least, that’s what Mister Pippin said. He told me you might have some rather amorous dreams while you recover.”

“No, I think you forgot to mention that,” Sebastian replies just as innocently.

Ominis simply hums and says, “Well, now that you’ve been made aware, I’ll be off to Herbology. I’d recommend locking the door if our dear friend is going to be keeping you company this afternoon, Sebastian.”

You’re too embarrassed to say a word, but Sebastian cheerfully thanks him as he pulls the door shut and reaches for his wand on his bedside table to magically lock it behind him.

“We’ve become menaces,” you whine as he rolls on top of you once more.

Sebastian grins wickedly down at you. “Not yet we haven’t, but thank Merlin we’ve got all afternoon.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian x mc #my fic #man flu sebastian :(((

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stevieschrodinger · 30 days

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Link to Part One Part Two Part Three

TW Human trafficking discussions of injury

Steve feels like shit. He looks like shit. He’s pretty sure something might have straight up died in his mouth when he got that forty five minutes of sleep.

Everything looks good though. The fact that everyone else sprawled around the boardroom also looks like shit makes him feel a little better about himself. Well. Everyone but Nancy, obviously, who could probably walk out of a tornado and still look put together.

Steve only knows it’s morning because Carol just brought them all coffee. Carol does not come in out of hours. Steve learned that very, very early on. It was uncharacteristically nice of Carol to turn up with the little trolley from downstairs; it had a bunch of fruit and breakfast pastries on it, plus coffee.

She then proceeded to explain to Steve at great length how he looked and smelled like he’d been shit out by a bear, so, maybe she had motive. And that motive was being a bitch.

“Happy now, Steve?”

Steve’s got like, a whole bag of sand in each eye. Coarse, if they grade that kind of thing. Coarse sand. “Do you think we got everything?”

“I am confident that the team have done their utmost to pursue every avenue.”

“Nance, stop being a politician. That’s not a yes.”

She purses her lips at him in the way that she has, “can I have a word with you?” She scans the board room, “privately?”

Steve drags himself out of the chair, balancing one croissant on top of his coffee cup and grabbing a bear claw too, and then follows Nancy out and into a nearby office.

She doesn’t pull any punches, “I need to know how you know.”

Steve takes a big bite, then speaks with his mouthful, “can’t. NDA.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, “and who, exactly, did you sign an NDA for?”

“The FBI.”

Nancy brings up her phone, showing Steve the screen. More precisely the headline on the screen, and Steve is thrilled that the picture they’ve used of Hagan is, objectively, fucking awful, “so Tommy Hagan was arrested last night, for Omega trafficking. When you walked into the office yesterday, oh so confident that everything relating to Hagan was going to tank…it was nearly ten full hours before this hit the news.”

Steve shrugs again, “N...D...A.”

They stare at each other for a long moment.

The door opens, Henderson’s baby face poking through. You would not in a million years think they guy was in his twenties, “Steve, morning! Sorry, I know it’s early…” Henderson seems to take in the state of Steve. Shirt rumpled, tie hanging loose, starting in on his second pastry, “but I kind of need to know why over a quarter of a million dollars was moved on Saturday, and where it went since it seemed to just...disappear?”

It takes, probably, less than a second for Nancy to leap to a conclusion like an Olympic fucking vaulter, and half a second longer for her to hit Steve with the file she’s holding.

“Er...not now, Dustin okay?” Steve manages to say, trying to shield his pastry and his coffee while Nancy gets it out of her system.

Dustin’s a smart kid, he watches Nancy slapping Steve with the papers...and just leaves.

She finally stops, pinching the bridge of her nose, and says very evenly, very quietly, “Steven Harrington, look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t buy an Omega.”

“NDA?” Steve replies quietly, uncertain, and then flinching when Nancy raises the folder again, “okay okay! Yes, yes I did. But! Under the FBI’s kind of...you know, instruction? I was evidence gathering! He’s at mine but I’m figuring out where his family are and I’ll take him back! It’s fine!”

“Why is he at yours?”

“They didn’t have anywhere for him, short notice, plus his feet are kind of messed up, from them like, hurting him. He’s been there a couple of years so doesn’t have anything, so I’ve ordered him some clothes and stuff. He’s fine.”

Nancy tilts her head, like a predator working out the distance they need to strike, “he’s...fine?”

Steve knows he’s fucked up. Nancy is using that tone. It’s...a very specific tone. “Err...yes?”

“You have an injured Omega, who has been held against his will, abused enough to be, at the very least, physically injured, never mind the emotional toll this whole thing may have taken...and he’s fine?”

Oh, no. She’s raised her eyebrow in that way she has. “I mean...yeah?” Nancy glares, and Steve backtracks, “I mean. Obviously he’s not...you know, perfectly okay, I guess. He’s been through a lot. But I made sure I fed him plenty, and he’s got some clean clothes on the bed. The bed in the room...I never actually...got around to showing him to...because I got, distracted. And it’s upstairs…” Steve can feel his insides sinking, “his feet are hurt. Shit.” Well fuck. Steve's...fucked up, probably quite badly now that he actually stops for thirty seconds to think about it.

Nancy sighs aggressively out her nose in that way she has, “Steve your security system is like fort fucking Knox, did you at least…”

But Steve’s already shaking his head, because he didn’t do that, either. He’s just...locked Eddie into a new prison. Shit.

He scrambles, feeling guilty, “I’ll give him some of the money. A lot of the money. Hagan’s...stuff. He can have the ranch?”

Nancy’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, “why on earth would he want the place he’s been kept prisoner for-”

Steve shrugs, “whatever he wants. He can bun it down if he likes, I’ll help. It’ll be like, therapy?”

Oh no, she gone from pinching her nose to rubbing that spot on her forehead, but then she seems to...deflate. Grasping Steve’s arm to hold him close, she actually speaks gently to him, which is, quite frankly, a million times more terrifying, “Steve. We’ve known each other a long time, now, so I say this with love. Money, wealth...is not the most important thing in life.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but she shushes him, “I know. Alright, I know it can help, and it makes life a lot better for a lot of people...but giving people things does not...fix anything. Money is not an apology. Gifts are not an apology. And I know it’s hard for you to...see it differently, okay? Because you’ve always been very...driven, and that’s a good thing! I know how you grew up and how your father was with you and I know you feel you have...something to prove, okay, so I understand, I do. But...a lot of people put higher value on...just. I mean, maybe just go home. Say that you're sorry. Look after the Omega for a couple of days, make sure he gets home, okay? Maybe prioritize that, for a moment. You know the office will be fine...and maybe you’ll see that other things in life can have value, hmm?”

Part five

@stylelovechild @steddieonthen @marklee-blackmore @sticknpokelightningbolt @resident-gay-bitch @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @weekend-dreamer7 @lololol-1234 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mx-jinxous @goodolefashionedloverboi @bogwitchlesbian @lunaraquaenby @steddieinthesun @pluto-pepsi @disrespectedgoatman @i-eat-spinal-cords @waelkyring @kal-ology

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ao3 author #nancy wheeler #pre steddie #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie munson because he's so pretty #omega eddie munson #my writing

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f10werfae · 1 year

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Mi Princesa

pairing: Sugar Daddy!Pedro Pascal x Pregnant!Reader

summary: Some morning loving with Pedro Pascal and his very pregnant wife, and maybe a little spice in the shower (DILF Warning ) Disclaimer 18+

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶

Full Masterlist, Pedro Pascal Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Good morning mi princesa, and good morning mi amor” Pedro whispered bending down to kiss his wife’s 6 month bump, the coldness of his wedding ring making her flinch. “Baby, ya woke her up” She whined feeling the small fluttery kicks erupt at the tip of her stomach, her eyes still closed but her lips already aiming for Pedro’s, giving him one hell of a wet kiss. “I’m sorry baby, daddy wanted to talk to his princesa” He whispered gruffly, one of his hands sneaking up her sleep shirt to cup and squeeze at one of her swollen breasts, massaging it softly.

“Eh? What about your other princesa?” Y/n winked biting her lip, softly moaning at the feeling of his cold hands on her tits, he was always so gentle with her; almost as if she was made of glass. “Mm can’t forget about her, but you’ve been upgraded baby, tú eres mi reina”

“Hmm sounds sexy what does it mean?” Tracing the side of his face she felt his hand fall back down to her rounded stomach, a habit he had picked up over the past few weeks, along with the belly kisses and telling his baby-girl stories. “Means you’re my reina, my queen, and this little girl, is our princesa”

“God could you get any sweeter, sexier and even more handsome Pedro” She squealed using her energy to hoist herself up to straddle him, even with her stomach in the way, she leant down as best as possible to pepper kisses all over his neck; giggling once she felt his hand on her ass, softly drumming against it with his hand. “Oh shit, I may have peed a little” She said suddenly sitting up, knowing damn well how much her precious princess loves using her bladder as a cushion, sending her to the toilet multiple times an hour.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love your waddle?” Pedro whistled watching her speed waddle into the toilet, a hand on the small of her back as she sent a glare his way, sticking her tongue out at him. “ah baby don’t get like that with me, I can’t stand it when mi reina gives me that face” Pedro sighed springing himself out of the cotton sheets, following his wife like a cute little puppy, just watching her wash her hands and brush her teeth. “Stop giving me those eyes, Mr Pascal” She warned spitting out the rest of her water, reaching behind him to pull on the water heater,

“What eyes Mrs. Pascal? The eyes you fell in love with? The eyes you look into while-“

“Yes yes, those eyes, now help me” She smiled widely holding both hands up in the air, watching on as Pedro pulled his shirt off her body, hearing him wolf whistle once he saw her nude body; acting as if they hadn’t been going at it like rabbits due to her raging hormones. “Come on daddy, don’t ya wanna shower with the mommy?” She smirked slowly stepping into the shower, her hands rubbing over her stomach as she tilted her head cutely, knowing damn well what it did to her sugar daddy husband.

“Mierda, the things you do to me woman” He groaned quickly ridding himself of his shorts and t-shirt, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist to bring her side flush against his chest, the gruff of his facial hair softly scratching against the top of her head. He could practically feel the heat coming from her wet centre the more he felt up her wet body, taking his sweet time to kiss and grab at all his favourite spots (which was basically everywhere) Taking his time to kiss at her breasts, her stomach, her arms, even bending down to kiss at her thighs.

“Please Pedro, you know what you’re doing, s’not fair” She sighed stomping her foot lightly, furrowing her brows as his tongue licked stripes up her neck and into her mouth; causing her to moan into his hot wet open mouth. “I need you daddy, please” She whined using the nickname that started their relationship in the first place, on that dodgy sugar baby site. Her hand leading his down to her already swollen clit, directing his fingers to rub slow soft circles on her button.

“I’ve got you mi vida, got to help my princesa’s mama, mi reina” He whispered kissing her lips then her cheek, his fingers moving at a steady pace as he felt her grasp onto his forearms for balance, her forehead leaning against his chest.

“I-i’m close baby, so so close” She whispered kissing his pec, gasping when she felt his fingers sort through her holds, swiftly inserting a finger into her snug hole; with one finger at her clit simultaneously. “Let go for me mama, i’m right here, let go for me gorgeous girl” He sighed against her temple, feeling her clench onto one of his fingers as she shook against him; her legs slightly trembling. “Good girl baby, feel and taste you so good” Rubbing her folds gently to let her ride her high, he slowly removed his hands, licking them clean as he looked into her eyes.

“You’re crazy Pedro, but I love you so much for it” She breathed out, clearly out of breath, her body fully leaning onto his for support; before wincing again when she felt an extra strong kick being delivered to her ribs, her little girl was finally awake again. Pedro’s hands immediately rushing to her stomach, shushing his little baby at the same time, he was in awe at her sheer strength. His lips meeting the stretch marks on his wife’s belly, his eyes marvelled in awe at how beautifully they were spread on her skin, the marks telling a story of how she was carrying his baby, their baby. Their princesa

“mi princesa, no le hagas daño a tu madre, she takes such good care of you, making sure you’re safe and healthy in her amazing beautiful body. Take care inside there okay? You can kick papa all you want when we meet you, but for now stay calm mi princess, te amo mucho”

———

no le hagas daño a tu madre = Don’t hurt your mother

PSA: This was so cute to write I loved it so much🫶 So I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :)

*All Spanish came from online as i’m not fluent, if something needs corrected please let me know :)*

See you guys at the next update 🫶

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fandom #sugar daddy!pedro #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x wife!reader #pedro pascal x pregnant!reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #rpf #romance

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1d1195 · 1 year

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Tuesday

I’m a sucker for protective Harry and exes to lovers sort of vibes.

Harry forgot that after they broke up he started sleeping on the side she did...for a while it smelled like her and as good as the break up was, he missed her and longed for her. Sleeping on her side made him feel closer to her. After a while, he forgot it wasn’t where he usually slept.

She was sitting in the coffee shop looking at her phone. Scrolling through the contacts was making her more anxious. It wasn’t super late—only nine. But it was dark out in the dead of winter and on Tuesday no less. She had class in the morning, and she didn’t want to bother anyone because she knew they had classes in the morning too.

When she closed this evening, she got a weird vibe from the guy hovering in the corner of the shop who kept asking her when she got off her shift and if she wanted to hang out afterwards. At the time she wasn’t alone, but she assured her coworker she would be fine—and was now regretting it. Something in the pit of her stomach was making her nervous. She didn’t want to go outside to her car, but it seemed a little dramatic.

So, she was scrolling through her (admittedly, not so very many) contacts deciding mentally if anyone was close enough that she was willing to bother. She was scrolling her way back to the top after her initial run through getting increasingly nervous as she crept back toward the A’s. If she made it back to the top, she wasn’t sure what she’d do at that point.

But it was the H’s that caught her attention.

“Fuck,” she whispered to literally no one but herself. Putting her hand on her forehead, she sighed. She didn’t want to call him. It had been two years since she last spoke to him. The chances of him even inhabiting the same apartment, a mere five-minute drive away, let alone the same town after he graduated and got a real job were slim to none. Plus, the idea he would answer her phone call at nine on a Tuesday night seemed downright laughable.

Honestly though, he was her only hope.

Biting her lip, she clicked on his name. It almost felt foreign. But something deep within her found it felt so familiar it was impossible to not feel at ease just listening to the sound of the phone ringing knowing he would be at the other end (if he would answer).

“Hello?” He asked. His voice sounded confused. She wasn’t surprised at his tone. It was insane for her to call him.

“Harry,” she said simply.

“Uh...hi, love,” it sounded loud wherever he was. She should have known Harry would be with people and living his life.

“Hi,” she said softly.

It was quiet for a moment other than the sound of whatever Harry was doing in the background. She thought about the last time they spoke. It had to have been right about when things ended. It wasn’t a bad breakup, but they didn’t really stay in touch. She saw pictures and updates on social media but Harry wasn’t all that active. She had no way of knowing a whole lot about his personal life—if he was seeing anyone...or anything like that.

“Love?” He said and the noise seemed to fade in the background of his concerned voice. “Y’okay?” He asked.

“Um...” she shook her head trying to remain focused and remember why she called her ex-boyfriend. “Er...yeah. M’fine...it’s just...” she sighed. “M’sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I’m just...I’m at work and...well I’m trying to leave but there was this guy and I got a weird feeling. But it’s stupid...and I just...there’s no one I know nearby, and I thought if you were still at your place close by then...” she shook her head hearing how ridiculous this all sounded. Bothering Harry on a Tuesday night for something that might not even happen. Her heart was fluttering. This was ridiculous. “Harry, I’m so sorry. This was a stupid phone call. There’s nothing wrong. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll be fine,” she said firmly gathering her belongings in her arms and steeling herself for the cold walk outside to her car.

“Oh...hey...” he frowned as he held the phone to his ear. “S’alright love. You’re not a bother,” he promised. “Are...are you inside still?” He asked. She could hear a flurry of movement on his end. There was a rustling of keys, and a few calls in the distance were yelled but she couldn’t make out the words.

“Yeah...but really, it’s fine. It’s late and I’m being ridiculous. I’m just going to—”

“M’still nearby,” he said quickly interrupting her. “Jus’...wait five minutes. I’ll be right there.”

For a moment she stilled and silenced her rationale and the convoluted reasoning in her head. “Really?” She asked, feeling relief course through her body. She didn’t even realize how stressed she was about the situation. The brave front for Harry slowly seemed to dissipate. There was no way she could know that Harry also recognized the worry in her voice.

“’Course, love,” he said easily. They were both quiet for a moment and she could hear the jingling of Harry’s keys, the unlocking of his car. “D’you want me t’stay on the phone with you?” He wondered.

She nodded, feeling comforted by Harry just breathing. Someone was coming to her rescue, even if she was being ridiculous. She didn’t even realize she nodded. But Harry didn’t get off the phone despite not knowing her answer. It was weird to be so content with Harry silently coming to her. With her eyes closed, she could almost picture Harry’s route. Hearing his blinker, the sound of the road...it was almost too much for her. Him just coming to her without so much as a real reason—just a feeling—was heartwarming. It made her miss him all over again.

When they dated, Harry was nothing less than perfect. He did everything with the utmost respect and chivalry. He was an amazing boyfriend and she adored him more than any other boyfriend she ever had. It broke her heart when they ended their relationship, truly. She reminded herself it wasn’t a bad break up. It was mature. They grew apart and Harry graduated, and things were ending. But she was still in school. Granted, now she was on the last of her classes and graduating the coming spring. Harry was out in the real world these last two years being perfect for whoever he worked for and for whoever he was dating.

“Hey love?” He asked gently. Her thoughts pulled back to the present. “M’parking right now. M’gonna come to the front, yeah? I’ll knock, okay?”

She nodded again, making her way from the back of the shop toward the front door. She could see Harry, phone pressed to his ear, looking just as she remembered him. Tall, lanky, and handsome as could be. Always. If she wasn’t so nervous, she would have ogled him for longer. She unlocked the door and let Harry in. “Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi,” he replied. “You alright, love?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she didn’t sound alright, though.

He glanced out the doorway and his brow creased in the middle. He looked highly annoyed. “M’glad you called,” he said quietly.

“Thank you,” her voice was so small and quiet. She looked nervously through the front window seeing Harry’s car closest to the shop. “Would you mind walking me to my car?”

He nodded. “Course, love,” he promised easily.

“You really didn’t have to come,” she said. It was a phrase that sounded like she should be annoyed—even though she was the one that asked him here, in so many words. But Harry knew her. He knew she wasn’t annoyed. He knew she was scared and didn’t want to be a bother. She was annoyed that she bothered him, if anything.

He shook his head. “Nonsense, love. Don’t mind at all,” he kept glancing out the window then he turned his attention back to her. “M’gonna...” he rolled his lips into his mouth and then sighed. “Kitten, m’gonna hold you, alright?” He said softly. She glanced out the window again, trying to see around Harry, but he stepped in her view. It wasn’t good. He must have been out there. A shiver ran up her back and she let out a small, nervous noise that came from deep in her soul. “Don’t worry,” he shook his head quickly and kept her from seeing. He took her bag off her shoulder and put it on his own. She had her keys in her hand and she swallowed. “M’here,” he promised. “M’not going anywhere.”

Harry wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing his side fully to hers as they walked toward his car parked right next to hers. They were silent except for Harry quietly whispering directions toward her. “Are you alright t’drive?” She nodded silently. Harry opened her driver’s door. He waited for her to sit, and he physically blocked her view outside the door. “Are y’sure y’can drive?” She nodded. “Are y’still at the same place?” She nodded again.

Harry reached past her to settle her bag on her passenger seat.

“Love?” He questioned again. He was hesitant to ask his next question but the way she looked so nervous and scared had him reeling.

It also didn’t help there was a creep a mere 30 meters away from them waiting for her like she was bait. She turned to look at him, her breath shaky, her hands kept shaking too as they reached for her steering wheel.

“Y-yeah?”

“I want you t’come t’my place, yeah?”

She felt scared so she just nodded. “Okay.”

“Kitten, m’not gonna let anything happen t’you, okay? I promise.”

“Okay,” she nodded again but it felt a lot more right this time.

Pressing the lock button on her door, he gave her arm a gentle squeeze as she turned her car on. “M’gonna follow you so wait until m’in the car,” he said softly. She nodded once more.

Harry was fuming about all of it. Seeing her name pop up on his phone made him confused and worried. But nothing prepared him for the feeling of helplessness and worry he actually felt when he went to the coffee shop and saw her car and a one other car waiting for her to exit work. He hadn’t spoken to her in two years, but he didn’t want to think about what he would do if he found out something terrible happened to her. As he started his car looking toward her waiting to go Harry waved to her to indicate he was good to go.

Harry would murder him if he followed them.

Harry spoke to his phone. “Call Niall.”

The phone rang twice before he answered. “Harry, where did y’go?” Niall asked curiously.

“Everyone needs to leave,” Harry said.

“Harry, what are—”

“I don’t care what y’tell them, everyone needs t’be gone in the next three minutes.”

“Harry—”

“Niall! Jus’ get them out!”

“Okay, okay,” Niall said with a tone of defensiveness in his voice. “I’ll get them out.”

“Thank you, I’ll explain when I get there.”

Harry glanced in his rearview mirror and didn’t see anyone following him. But now Harry was paranoid, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He called her again. “Hello?” She asked tentatively.

“Hey love. When y’park, I don’t want y’to get out. I’ll come around t’you, okay?”

“Okay,” she said softly. “Harry?” She whispered.

“Yeah, love?”

“Thank you,” the gratefulness was so thick on her voice Harry could have cried. What if he didn’t see her call? Or what if he decided not to answer? He was worried about things that weren’t but the idea of something happening to her made him feel sick.

“M’really glad you called,” he promised.

She didn’t say anything again. He felt so bad she was so nervous and worked up. She wasn’t one to need saving. She usually did most of the saving her friend group. She was the one with an extra hair tie or a stain stick at restaurants. She never let anyone be hungry or thirsty. If someone didn’t have medicine handy, they could ask her. She was the one that did the saving. She wasn’t the one that needed it. Rarely did she ever ask for help. Asking Harry was not only huge for her, but it meant she really needed it.

When she started downplaying how nervous she was on the phone, Harry thought how terrifying it was that she never needed anyone. Especially for a situation like this. He thought for two seconds what would have happened if her instincts were right, if Harry did ignore her worries, or if she convinced him that she was alright.

Harry quickly brushed those thoughts aside. “Do y’want me t’stay on the phone?” He asked her this earlier. Just like before there was no answer, but he knew she nodded. So, he stayed quietly on the phone listening to her breathing, the sound of her directional, and the road.

There were several cars passing as they pulled up toward Harry and Niall’s place. Harry was grateful Niall got everyone out. “Okay, love, stay put,” he said hanging up as he hurried out of his parked car to her driver’s seat.

Niall was standing on the front stoop waiting to see what Harry was so worked up about. When Harry opened the driver’s door and ushered her out Niall finally understood. “Must have skipped my last eye appointment, is that you princess?” Niall said cheerfully and hurried to give her a hug. It was a bit awkward though because Harry wouldn’t release one of her hands.

“D’you need anything else?” He asked ignoring Niall’s greeting.

“Uh...there’s a bag in my trunk,” she said softly. “I can get it in a minute—” Harry finally released her hand and headed back for her car.

“What brings you here this evening?” Niall asked.

“Oh...uh...” she swallowed. “It was nothing really,” she said shyly. Niall glanced at Harry’s embittered expression. He could see it halfway across their yard while she looked at the ground before looking back at Niall. “I actually think I overreacted and I didn’t know who else to call—”

“She did not overreact,” Harry said simply closing her car up and then coming to her to put a hand on her lower back. He ushered her toward the door. “She’s gonna stay tonight,” Harry told Niall.

Niall blinked then raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What about—”

“No,” he said simply, shaking his head and pushing her more toward the front.

“Harry, that’s not necessary...I think I can—”

“No,” he repeated.

There wasn’t room to argue.

She said goodnight to Niall and Harry continued ushering her into his room. It was the same as before except he moved the bed to the middle of the wall and changed the position of the dresser and the desk in his room. “D’you have clothes or d’you need clothes?”

“I don’t have uh...clothes to wear to bed—”

“Here,” he said quickly and opened the drawer. “Think y’left these here,” he said handing her a pair of leggings that she had lost years ago. It made her feel confused that he kept them folded neatly in a drawer readily available. She wondered if he let other women wear them. She honestly didn’t care. She was glad they were getting some use.

Harry assumed she was questioning the fact he kept her leggings in a drawer folded neatly. He offered them to a girl staying over every now and again. Gem even wore them on occasion. Harry didn’t need to read her mind, to know she was probably happy to help some stranger when they were over and needed something comfy to sleep in. “And y’can wear this,” he said and tossed her a long sleeve shirt that had a logo on it she hadn’t seen before.

“What’s this?” She asked curiously looking at the logo. It wasn’t really the time, but she was potentially in shock and Harry wasn’t going to let that happen, so he just answered her.

“The company I work for,” he shrugged and pulled his shirt over her head.

She dated Harry for two years, so she was used to seeing Harry naked. But not seeing him for two years and for him to casually pull his shirt over his head...well, she missed seeing him. “You got new tattoos,” she said suddenly.

Harry smirked for the first time all night and he paused with his arms in his shirt, but he held off on tugging the shirt over his head. “Uh...jus’ a few,” he said quietly. “One for m’godson, another one for Gem, one ‘cause I drank a little too much one night,” he said shyly.

Harry looked at her gentle smile and thought he would melt. She was all stressed and worked up and so was Harry, but she was beautiful. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. If Harry wasn’t so nervous about her safety, he would have reveled a bit longer in how much he missed her voice and suddenly hearing it woke some part of him that he thought was long gone. The part of him that was hers.

Harry opened the door again. “Hey Ni,” he called. “You still do her skincare routine?”

She let out a huffed little laugh thinking about the night she showed Niall and Harry all the steps to having a clean face before bed making sure to prevent wrinkles and damage to the only skin they had. Harry thought it was too many steps, but Niall was smitten with the routine and asked her no less than fifty questions about what he needed to do to have baby soft skin. Harry was grateful now that it was going to pay in tenfold, because he could make her feel at home and have Niall comfort her for a few moments while he fixed up his room. “Yeah! Princess, you want to share?” He called.

Harry looked at her and then opened the door wider. “All yours,” he said softly.

She took the borrowed clothes and nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered again.

Harry watched her walk to the shared bathroom and Niall followed in behind her to show where he kept everything, but he caught Harry’s eye as he entered quirking one eyebrow at him. Harry shook his head and left the pair to their spa treatment.

Harry’s phone vibrated as he propped up the pillows and got a few more blankets for the sweet girl from his closet. For someone that always ran much too hot, she always wanted more blankets to sleep in at night. He was planning on offering to sleep on the floor or the couch, but he knew she would deny it immediately and probably offer to do it herself. Of course, Harry wasn’t about to let that happen so they would have to settle for sharing. He glanced at the name on his phone and sighed.

Do you want me to come over? Harry felt guilty but he shouldn’t have. It was an arrangement they had agreed upon, and they both knew it.

Not tonight.

Oh. Okay.

Sorry.

No, it’s fine. Just surprised. Everything alright?

Yeah.

Okay.

Harry stopped answering. She deserved more...and if Harry had a little bit better self-esteem maybe he would realize he deserved more too.

There was a knock outside his room. “Y’don’t need t’knock, kitten,” he said with an eye roll as he pulled the covers back for the two of them. Harry heard his door click shut.

“Well...it’s sort of ridiculous that I’m even here, and I feel bad intruding and making you even—”

“Love,” he said turning toward her. She was in his shirt and her leggings now. She settled the clothes she was wearing with her stuff, and she looked toward Harry with so much trust in her eyes Harry wanted to cry. He was so thankful she called him. So thankful she trusted her gut and glad he could help her. “I am so glad y’called me,” he said softly. “You’re not intruding or anything,” he promised. “M’glad you’re here.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you,” she repeated again.

Harry gestured to the bed. “I was gonna offer t’sleep on the floor or the couch—”

“Absolutely not.”

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “—But I already knew y’wouldn’t care for that, and I won’t let y’do that either so...” he said and gestured to the bed again.

She couldn’t argue with him so she grabbed her bag and pulled it toward the side of the bed she was used to sleeping on. However, Harry forgot that after they broke up he started sleeping on the side she did...for a while it smelled like her and as good as the break up was, he missed her and longed for her. Sleeping on her side made him feel closer to her. After a while, he forgot it wasn’t where he usually slept. But for tonight, he would have to go back to his side. Harry settled into his bed, pulling the blankets up over him as he scrolled on his phone. It was eerie how comfortable they could get into a routine that was very much the same as the one they used to have.

“Do you mind if I just...finish my essay really quick?” She asked softly.

“Take your time, love,” he nodded easily. “How is school?” He inquired.

She nodded. Harry watched her as she pulled her laptop from her bag and opened it. “It’s good. I’m almost done...I have an internship a couple days a week and they’ve offered me a job when I officially graduate.”

“Kitten, that’s awesome,” he smiled. “Congratulations,” it was so heartfelt it made her stomach flutter.

“How is this place?” She asked, pointing to the logo on her shirt. “Have you been there this whole time?”

“Yeah, I have. It’s a great place. I like it. It’s quiet. I get t’keep t’myself mostly. M’told I’m better than the last guy they had,” Harry chuckled.

She smiled and nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

Harry felt his face warm. “What are you working on now?” He wondered.

“It’s for my history of psychology class,” she said. Harry was always dumbfounded she wanted to be a psychologist but rarely looked at how her own behavior was maddening every now and again. Like tonight when she was willingly about to put her life in danger for some creep because she didn’t want to bother Harry. “Just relating different philosophies to a disorder over time and how the founders of these philosophies would have approached it.”

“Cool,” Harry smiled. “Do you like it still?”

“Very much,” she nodded. “Except,” she sighed. “This keeps happening,” she showed him her computer. “I’m sorry,” she said. She hated asking Harry about tech. It never bothered him. He was happy to help her, and he gave her tips to better the lifespan of her devices. She knew he would probably still look at it for her, even after all these years.

He tilted his head and sat up more and looked at the blue crash screen analyzing the codes it presented. “Hold on,” he mumbled turning into his IT self and googling the code from his phone. “How often does it do this?”

“Err...like once a day.”

“Kitten,” he admonished. She knew better than that after all of his tips and tricks. “May I?” He asked. She handed it to him.

“I can’t really afford a new laptop right now. My dad said he would get me one when I graduated in a month,” she shrugged.

“How is your family?” He asked while he fiddled with her computer.

“Good,” she nodded. “How’s yours?”

“They’re good. Gemma visits frequently,” he smirked.

“That’s nice, tell her I said hello.”

He was busy clicking through her screens and checking settings on her computers that she didn’t know existed. “Y’should really clean this,” he murmured.

“Er...m’not sure how...you always did it for me,” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “Fair enough, I can do it in the morning if y’have time.”

“I have class at eight,” she told him.

He shrugged. “S’okay...m’usually up at five.”

“Five?” She asked in surprise. “Harry, it’s so late, you should be asleep,” she said with concern in her voice.

He shrugged. “S’okay. Niall and I usually have movie night with friends on Tuesdays,” he said. “S’pretty early t’be in bed right now, on a regular Tuesday night, for me.”

“I interrupted movie night?” She asked quietly.

“That’s what y’took from that?” He smirked.

She was silent for a few moments. “He was out there, wasn’t he? Waiting for me?” She whispered.

Harry didn’t want to answer her question. “Yes.” She nodded and swallowed around a lump in her throat. Biting the inside of her cheek she looked at her hands while Harry took his gaze from her computer to look back at her. “Kitten,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

“What if you couldn’t have—”

“Love, don’t. I was there. S’okay,” he promised.

“But you might not have been able to...and you shouldn’t have—”

“Baby,” he said softly and put her laptop on the floor beside him. He turned to face her, and he reached for her cheek. He rubbed his thumb over her soft skin. He could feel her melting into the touch and it reminded him of every time he ever touched her and how much he missed that. They were so different now. Older, wiser. Harry still adored her so very much, seeing her name was the first time he thought of her in months and months. Hearing her voice was like hearing a song he forgot about, and it sounded like hearing it for the first time and it sounded so much like angels he was wondering if tripped down the steps of his house and died. Touching her, even if he felt she was in danger, was like magic. It changed something in him. It was familiar and new and all at once. Holding her was warmth and light, something he had forgotten about until that moment. Even in a situation he didn’t want to be in. “I would do anything for you.”

“Still?” She asked with a snort before she could stop it.

Harry rolled his eyes. He brushed his thumb over her cheek again; he would do it all night rather than sleep and then work a full week. If this was the last time he saw her, touched her, smelled her, he would do it for just another minute. “If y’need me, love...that’s...a big deal. Yeah...I would do anything for you.”

“We’re not even together,” she whispered. “Actually...I think you have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he shook his head.

“You’re seeing someone?”

He sighed. “Kitten, I don’t care about anyone but you, right now.”

“I can’t in good conscience—”

“Love, m’not seeing anyone. That’s it,” he said with a touch of frustration in his voice. She was quiet another moment.

“Harry?” She whispered.

“What, kitten?”

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“Oh, love,” he cooed and pulled her toward him. She started to cry and Harry held her against his chest and while he hated the way her tears soaked his shirt, he was so glad he was there to comfort her.

She was anxiously walking into the coffee shop the next day. She knew the chances of him being there again after he was clearly rejected were slim. It didn’t quell her nerves though, as she walked into the shop.

As she settled her things in the back and came to the front to clock in on the register and begin taking orders, she finally noticed the curly brunet locks cozied up in the corner of the shop in an armchair with a book in hand and computer bag at his feet. She blinked. Doing a double take between the customer waiting to place his order and Harry, sitting quietly in the corner, focused on his book and unaware it seemed that she was at work.

As she made the drink requested, she looked at Harry and then her coworker. “Did you see Harry come in?” She asked.

She glanced over at the corner. “Yes.”

There was no more discussion.

At the end of her shift, she went over to Harry in the corner halfway through his book. “Why are you here?”

“I told you I’d do anything for you, love,” he said gently, earmarking his page and closing the book. “Ready t’go?”

She bit her lip and nodded. He stood up, gathering his things and headed for the door.

When Harry came to her shifts over the next week, she thought that this was over the top. He didn’t say anything, didn’t offer any explanation, he was just there. When they left he tucked her neatly into her car and followed her home before she entered her apartment and waved goodbye from the front entrance.

On Sunday, she anticipated seeing Harry in the corner at some point in her morning shift, but instead she was slightly disappointed by not seeing him. She got used to seeing him and more than that wanted to see him.

So when she got into her car and locked her doors before she pulled her phone out.

“’Lo?”

“Are you mad at me?” She asked.

“Kitten?” He responded. It sounded like he was suddenly awake out of nowhere.

“You didn’t come to—”

“Are y’alright? Did he come back?”

“No!” She shook her head as she answered hurriedly. “I’m fine...I just...”

“Love, m’sorry. I...I had something t’do this morning, I figured—”

All at once she felt like the biggest idiot in the world. “Oh my God,” she whispered and covered her eyes. Thank God she didn’t video chat Harry. Thank God she was alone in her car and no one could see the bright red cheeks she was sporting. “Oh my God. Harry. I’m so sorry. I...oh my God,” she shook her head.

Hearing her worried tone, Harry hurried away from his morning plans. “Angel, are you okay?” He repeated. “I can come be there in ten minutes, love. M’worried that—"

“No, m’fine. Really. Please this is mortifying. You're very obviously with someone...and...I’m fine,” she told him. “I feel like—”

"Love, m'not with anyone. Haven't been since we started talking again. Kitten, I want t’see y’too,” he promised. “I’ll be home in ‘bout an hour. Does that work for you?” She nodded, feeling ridiculous as ever. Harry couldn’t see her nodding. But he knew she was. “An hour,” he promised. “I’ll see you then, love.”

She felt stupid once more as she pulled up to Harry’s place and noted Niall’s car wasn’t there, fortunately. At the very least her humiliation would remain just between herself and Harry. Harry met her in the yard almost as soon as he saw her pull up. “I was worried y’were lying,” he admitted and stuffed his hands in his pockets looking at her as she walked toward him.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” she promised crossing her arms in front of her.

“Good,” he smiled gently. “Then...is everything alright?”

“I missed you,” she whispered quietly.

“Yeah?” He murmured.

“Yeah,” she nodded not making eye contact.

Harry tilted her chin up and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lip. “I missed you more,” he said so cutely she could have turned into a puddle of love and mush on his front yard.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded and smiled at her. It was so adorable, so utterly Harry, and made her want to throw herself at him and never let him go.

So she did.

2K notes · View notes

i2sunric · 6 months

Note

Heyyy, could I please request a smut inside the dance practice room with Ricky after dancing for a long time and they decided to take a break and do the *coughs*? THANK YOU ALSO I MISSED YOU SO SO MUCH

right here — s.ricky

wc: 2.4k

warnings: minors dni (explicit smut). blowjob, semi-public sex, ricky is being brat. pet names (princess, angel, baby, slut), mirror sex <33, unprotected sex, breeding kink, degrading kink (if you squint), oral sex | not proofread

hana’s notes : HELP ANON IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAITING 😭😭 hope you liked it <33 sorry for having disappeared mwah, kinda proud with how it turned :3

“i told you, this step is not right.” ricky nagged for the nth time of the afternoon, making you click your tongue. you were already tired from having worked the whole morning and now you were kindly helping your boyfriend out with a new choreography he wanted to show to his fans in the near fanmeeting. he was stressed, clearly stressed and frustrated, not much to you but more to himself; however you did not like the way he was treating you “i’m telling you this step looks cooler, can’t you listen to me once?” i raised an eyebrow

“i don’t remember giving you the permission to change the steps.” he raised an eyebrow back at you “seriously ricky, i’m just trying to help you, if you want to work alone, then do it.” you groaned, now having reached the limit of your patience. not minding ricky anymore, you walked over your belongings and started closing the bag, ready to leave. a wave of guilt washed over ricky’s expression, just remembering that you had also been busy with your studies and, instead of relaxing at home after your exams, you had to deal with his moody behaviour for more than two hours

“baby, hey..” he murmured, walking over to you and taking your wrist, making you turn around to face him. your eyebrows ere knotted, an expression of annoyance on your face. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have taken my stress on you, i’m very grateful you’re helping me.” ricky looked at you with his gaze, his two eyes staring deep in yours, almost putting a spell on you. you sighed, looking down “you’re a jerk.”

“i know,” he smiled softly, his hands wrapping around your waist “but i’m your jerk.” ricky winked at you, making you scoff at his poor - but successful - attempt to make you feel better “let’s stop practicing, yeah? i want to spend some time with you.” he said with a small pout.

your gaze went down to stare at his lips, making them turn in a cocky smirk “i missed you so much, angel, i know you’ve worked hard recently.” he connected his lips to yours, the kiss was tender and slow, you two were savouring each others’ taste. his hand went to place on your cheeks, gently caressing it while your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. as time passed, the kiss got even more intense, ricky’s hands now wandering all over your body, touching everything they could while his teeth grasped at your bottom lip, making you suffocate a moan.

“fuck baby,” he said, pulling away from the kiss, his lips swollen and panting “let me make it up to you.” ricky reconnected your lips, this time your tongue danced together. his kisses slowly go lower while he keeps tasting you. his lips reach your neck, and as they do he starts moving his lips upwards towards your ear “i’ve been such a jerk, haven’t i?” he says softly and gently starts kissing your neck, making you make small noises. his breath is still heavy, as if he’s intoxicated by this moment

“ricky..” you moan, your fingers grasping his blonde and styled hair, messing it. ricky gave your neck a small bite, not adding too much pressure and licking it right away to calm it down, just enough to make a bruise appear later. his experienced hand goes to tuck your bra, removing it with so much speed you didn’t even proceed it until his cold fingers teased your nipples, making you gasp.

with a move, he turned you around, your ass pressed against his clothed hard length. you could see the shadow of his hands under your shirt, you moaned at the sight of yourself in the giant mirror. ricky smirked, removing his lips from your neck “looking so beautiful, princess.” he whisper quietly in your ear, his voice so low that it made you shiver “ricky, please..” you murmured, feeling that uncomfortable stickiness in your panties

“please what, pretty?” he asked, his hand still playing with your breasts “use your words.” you bit your bottom lip, staring at him through the mirror “need you,” you breathed out “need you so bad.” you moved your hips so your ass could press even more on ricky’s bulge, making him groan

“need me, angel?” he whispered “need me so bad?” you nodded frenetically “so bad, please.”

“how can i refuse when you’re asking so politely?” ricky placed another small kiss on your neck before his other hand went down the hem of your sweatpants and panties all in once, feeling how soaked you were “damn baby, you’re dripping.” he smiled, your juices flowing on his fingers. he started making slow circles on your clit, making your head jerk back instantly, a shaky moan escaping your mouth as your back arched

he kept drawing small circles on your clit until he wasn’t satisfied by the movements anymore, quickly pulling away his hand, making you moan in complain

“on your knees.” ricky ordered and you obeyed, it was almost pitiful the speed with how you fell onto your knees, right in front of his hips. ricky pulled down his pants, his throbbing length poking from the boxers. you patted it from the outside, making ricky shut his eyes “baby don’t tease.” his voice was deep and hoarse

you smirked and quickly pulled down his boxers, his hard and angry red cock bouncing on his chest, making you drool at the mere sight.

you stroked it, pre-cum already dripping from the tip which you kissed, lips dirtying with it. you swallowed his whole length, maintaining eye contact with ricky as you started bobbing your head, stroking where you could not reach.

out of ricky’s lips escaped moans and low groans, his fingers grasped at your hair, pulling it into a very messy ponytail. his eyes shifted from the reflections of your sinful actions in the mirror; you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth

“so good,” he moaned “your mouth was made for me, yeah? sucking me off so well.” he started groaning, gripping on your head with both of his hands, starting to facefucking you. you gripped on his hips, tears rolling down your cheeks whilst you tried to stop your gagging reflex, the room filling with disgusting sounds.

“fuck fuck fuck.” his moans went louder as he started thrusting even faster “you’re such a slut, went on your knees— on your knees so fast for me.” your throat started to burn before a hot liquid shot down it, ricky cumming inside your mouth.

he thrusted a few more times before pulling out, helping you up, your legs shaking and knees sore but you didn’t mind. he kisses you deeply again, tasting his own seed, whispering in between “i love you.” he dried your tears with his thumb, his other hand grasping on your waist again, pulling you closer and closer, almost wanting your bodies to become one.

“let me take care of you now, mh?” he smiled at you, making you turn around and pulling your pants down, you gasped when the cold air of the room hit your aching core “ricky.” you breathed out

“yes, princess?” he asked, holding your body firmly with one of his hands as the other went down to tease your clit “what do you want?”

“please ricky, need you inside of me.” you pleaded, head resting on one of his shoulders “be a good girl and look at the mirror for me.” you raised your head and looked at the image in the mirror, ricky’s deep eyes staring at yours. his hand — the free one — went down to your clit, rubbing circles, making you moan.

as embarrassing as it seemed, ricky became hard again just after hearing your pretty noises, you could feel his bulge poking through your ass cheeks, he rubbed himself between them while he kept massaging your clit. his grip on your body tightening when your legs started shaking.

“ricky please.” you cried out “fuck me, need you so bad.” ricky seemed reluctant “baby we don’t have a condom.”

“i don’t care.” you looked into his eyes from the mirror, biting your bottom lip “want you to come inside of me, make me full.”

“fuck.” he cursed under his breath, your words almost making him cum there and at that moment “you want me to fill you with my kids, uh? want it so bad?”

“yes!” you exclaimed “please.” you felt your hips rolling against ricky’s fingers, needing more than what he was giving you.

ricky was quick to remove his hand from your clit to stroke his dick, your juices serving as lube before sliding inside your pussy from the back; you gasped at the sudden intrusion. after bottoming out, he pulled away and slammed inside you in a forceful thrust, your walls hugging his cock.

you felt lightheaded, only moans escaping out of your lips as you squeezed your eyes in pleasure “nah ah.” you heard and ricky’s fingers grasped on your chin, forcing your head to raise “look at yourself, look how pretty you are while you take my cock.” he whispered in your ear

“taking me so well, such a good girl.” he groaned, increasing the speed of his thrusts, your boobs bouncing under the shirt with no bra to contain them.

“ricky..” you moaned, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach “please ‘m so close.” ricky kissed your neck, his hand going back to trace circles on your clit, trying to make you feel even more pleasure

“cum for me, pretty.” he whispered “cum all around me.” and it was enough to make your legs shake, creaming around his cock with a loud moan, clenching. your eyes shutting in pleasure and head resting on his shoulder.

you felt sensitive, ricky knew you always were after releasing, so he gently kissed your neck, holding you with both his hands. he presses his hand on your stomach, feeling his dick poking on it “can you feel me right here?” he asked, thrusting deeper “fuck i’m close.” he started thrusting faster, the sound of skin slapping filled the room

“ricky.” you cried out again “too much..” he massaged your body “i know,” he whispered “i know baby, just a little bit more.”

he came shortly after, filling you up, making you gasp at the feeling of his hot cum dying your walls.

ricky kept moving inside of you at a slow speed, riding you and him down your orgasm. he pulled your head to the side, tilting it so he had free access to your lips, kissing you tenderly

“you’re amazing.” he murmured on your lips “i love you so much, i’m so sorry y/n.” he pouted and you pecked his lips once more “it’s alright ricky.”

ricky gave you a small smile before pulling out, watching as both of your liquids dripped down your thighs “now, let’s get you cleaned up and go home, i’ll spoil you today..” he glanced down again “and also buy plan b, perhaps.” you hit his chest lightly, chuckling

#zb1 smut #zb1 hard hours #zb1 #zb1 hard thoughts #ricky smut #ricky hard hours #ricky hard thoughts #shen ricky smut #shen ricky smuts #ricky smuts #shen ricky hard hours #shen ricky hard thoughts #ricky zb1 smuts #ricky zb1 smut #ricky zb1 hard hours #zb1 imagine #zb1 scenarios

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viranellee · 1 year

Text

you'd never guess (i'd never know)

synopsis: the only thing eddie roundtree likes about billy dunne is his younger sister.

warnings: smut, dirty talk, swearing, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill, but it's never mentioned)

a/n: the lack of eddie smut on here is appalling

⁠ ♡

“Where are you going?”

Frozen in your tracks, you slowly turn around and meet Eddie’s still sleepy but inquisitive gaze, and as his eyes look you over from head to toe, it morphs into a distinctive shade of lustful. You allow yourself the liberty to admire him as he does the same to you - unguarded and vulnerable in his half-awake state, the nest of tangled light brown hair on top of his head, his naked body painted with love bites underneath the white hotel sheets.

You want to kiss him.

“Sweetheart, c’mon. Come ‘ere.” He tries coaxing you, but you know the rules by now. No matter how sweet the temptation is, no matter the things his deep, husky morning voice does to your insides, no matter the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest everytime you lay eyes on him, you need to be unfailingly secretive about this, whatever it is, between you two. Otherwise the deadly tornado of a man your brother Billy is will turn it into ruin with a single flick of his hand.

Even still, it seems that you’re the only one rightfully worried.

"Eds, I have to leave, you know this.”

Something hardens in his gaze for a moment, but it quickly slips away. It pains you to watch it. You lean down to kiss his cheek in an attempt to make him feel better, but he turns his head around, capturing your lips with his. You gasp and instinctively fist your hands into his hair as he rearranges you to sit on his lap. There’s something desperate about the way he holds you and kisses you this particular morning and it sets everything in you on fire. You moan into his kiss despite your brain screaming at you to get the fuck up and leave before anybody finds out you’re not in your room. Eddie seems to sense your overthinking, as he usually does, and slips his cold hands underneath your blouse, letting his long fingers trace your spine, trying to soothe you.

"Focus on me. Don’t think about anything else.” Eddie instructs and you suddenly feel lighter.

You kiss him again, a silent thanks for bringing you back to the present, and it’s his turn to moan as he presses you down on his hard-on.

"A couple of kisses and I’m already rock hard like a fuckin’ teenager. Jesus, the things you do to me.” He mutters, more to himself than you, but the words still manage to leave their impact on your nether regions.

“Eddie, Eddie…” you pant as his mouth begins to place greedy kisses down your neck. “We’re…we’re going to be late for breakfast.”

He laughs against your skin and you swear you’ve never felt something so good.

“I’m already having my breakfast, sweetheart, and it’s much better than the shit they serve down there.”

Fuck.

---

“Anyone got any idea where Eddie and my sister are?” Graham asks his friends, in the midst of swallowing his piece of omelet.

Warren shrugs.

“Eddie’s probably still sleeping. I mean, when has he ever shown up for breakfast on time? Let the guy get some sleep, man.”

Graham nods a couple of times, deeming the explanation logical. It doesn't stop him from thinking about the person left out from it.

"Yeah, sure," he starts "but my sister always shows up. I...I don't know, maybe she slept in this time, but maybe I should go up and check."

Karen suddenly pipes in from her place next to Graham, putting her hand on his thigh.

"Don't. For we all know, she's just sleeping in." She says, looking at Warren from across the table pointedly, who takes the hint and nods reassuringly at Graham. "And you know how she gets when someone wakes her up. Let her rest."

"But what if she's hungry when she wakes up?"

Karen sighs, closing her eyes for a couple of seconds. Warren inhales sharply, a tell-tale sign of him holding in his laughter.

"Graham. She isn't an infant. I'm sure your sister is fully capable of getting breakfast for herself." She says, but he still doesn't look entirely convinced.

"Yeah, but I don't want her to be alone." Graham pauses. "I don't want her to feel lonely, y'know."

"Hey, chill man. She and Eddie wake up around the same time anyway, they usually get breakfast together, don't they? I really don't think there's anything to worry about." Warren adds, as he takes the last bite of his P&J sandwich.

Graham silently leans back in his chair and Karen takes the opportunity to change the subject.

"Anyway, uh, how's Lisa, Warren?"

KAREN SIRKO: I knew she and Eddie were fucking from the moment I saw them together.

WARREN ROJAS: For the record, I had no idea they were fucking.

GRAHAM DUNNE: [sighs] Can we not talk about this, please?

---

"Yeah, just like that. Fuck, you look so good bouncing on my cock like that."

You don't know how long you two have been going at it. What you do know, however, is that Eddie Roundtree, the insatiable sex maniac, has already put you through five different positions and this is the sixth one.

"Eddie, I…I don't think I can..." You start saying as you feel your strength leaving your body, but he knows. He always knows.

He tightens his hold on your hips and drags you up and down his cock and you have to physically put a hand over your mouth when he hits that spot inside of you.

"Found it, huh?" He comments, with that goddamn cocky glint in his eye and you would have normally rolled your eyes at him if it weren't for the fact that they were already rolling towards the back of your head.

"Shut...up!" You pant, and he smirks. As soon as you see that smirk, you involuntarily tighten around him. Eddie groans when he feels it and you lean down to kiss his Adam's apple, and then - him. He cups the back of your neck with one large hand and you shiver.

"I'm, I'm close. Eddie, fuck!" You barely manage to stutter out and he goes even faster, the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. He presses a sweet kiss to your collarbone and immediately goes back to whispering filthy things into your ear.

"Cum for me, love. Cum on my cock." He urges, breathless, something swimming in his eyes you've never seen before, and you do just that.

You think you might have screamed. You don't know. All you remember is Eddie.

You hide your face in his shoulder, sensitive and exhausted - he cums shortly after, your name on his lips like a prayer. You sigh when you feel him soften inside of you. He falls back on the pillows and you fall along with him, head on his chest and his hand playing with your hair.

It's comfortably silent after that, so silent in fact, that for a second you think Eddie might have fallen asleep. You tilt your head upwards to place a kiss on his jawline, but you find him already staring back at you, an uncharacteristically contemplative look on his gorgeous face.

"What?" You question, growing increasingly worried.

This is it, you think, this is when he ends things.

My worst fear is coming true.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Y'know, I've played in front of hundreds of thousands of people. I know what anxiety feels like. But laying in that bed with her, looking at her, was the most nervous I'd ever felt in my entire life.

"I…" He begins and closes his mouth, as if carefully choosing his words, but doing nothing to ease the pit in your stomach. "Well..."

You stand up upright, a typical "Dunne frown", as he liked calling it, on your face.

He should look me in the eyes, at the very fucking least.

"Oh, is this what you're doing now? Fucking me one last time before you reject me? You've had your fun, is that it?"

Y/N ROUNDTREE: I do admit that I... misjudged the situation. But when you've been with assholes in the past, sometimes you come to conclusions a bit too quickly.

Eddie's face scrunches up into a mixture of shock, confusion and slight sadness.

"What?" He asks so loudly that it makes you feel embarrassed. "What in the actual fuck are you on about? Why would you even think that? Sweetheart, I was going to say I love you."

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I'll never forget the look on her face, swear to God. [laughs]

"What?" You parrot back, just as loudly. It takes a beat or two for the words to sink in. When they do, you start laughing like you've never heard anything funnier.

Eddie simply looks at you like you've grown two heads.

"Oh, Eds. Please don't lie to me like this." You cover your face with your hands.

Suddenly, your hands are being gently pulled away - he's staring at you so softly you think you might die. You might have actually died and this is your heaven. It certainly feels like it.

He whispers your name and you whisper his back.

"I love you." He says, cupping your cheeks, and keeps repeating it as if trying to get it through your head.

"Eddie…" you breathe against his lips. He pulls your bottom lip down with his thumb, pupils dilated like you're his new favorite drug. You might actually be. "Eddie, I lo-"

"SOUNDCHECK IS IN 30 MINUTES, ROUNDTREE, GET YOUR ASS OUT OF THE DAMN BED!"

Fuck.

---

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: She might not have told me she loved me that day, but - [shows wedding ring] - I know. I know.

⁠♡

#daisy jones and the six #daisy jones & the six #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree fanfic #karen sirko #graham dunne #warren rojas #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree smut #I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM YOUR HONOUR!!!!!#not an eddie apologist because he's done nothing wrong ever #josh whitehouse #djats fic #djats tv #eddie loving

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s1ater · 1 year

Text

butting heads.

pairings. lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

about. you’re jumped and refuse to tell lorenzo what happened.

warning. foul language, a lil violence

ricky is typing… louis is my current obsession. also tried to dye my hair brown and it turned ginger 💀💀💀💀 fml

“who hit you?”

oh, boy.

“doesn’t matter,” you push not only his hands away, but the entirety of his hovering body before this situation could escalate anymore than it had just by him seeing you.

“no,” he shakes his head, turning on the heal of his foot to follow you. “no, what the fuck happened?”

“lo, calm the fuck down.”

he clenched his jaw to the retaliation and sourness in your voice. he rolled his neck in a circle, his head tipped toward the ceiling, refraining himself from blowing up on you.

she’s just mad.

he grabs your arm before you can walk too much farther, pulling you till you were pressed against one of the walls of your room, “you got a bruise on your cheekbone,” he presses the side of his index finger against the dark coloration, almost making you wince. “one right here,” he presses lightly against your jaw, “and blood here,” and then his thumb against the corner of your mouth.

his voice was as quiet as it could get, till; “so don’t tell me to calm the fuck down when you look like you’ve gotten into a pub fight and someone tried to kill you.”

you bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from squirming in the tight spot lorenzo had you in.

he continues to look down on you with prying and hard eyes, waiting for you to speak while his fingers still lightly hovered over the tender-bruising flesh of your face.

“act like you’ve never been hit before,” you move from beneath his body somehow, making your way to your dresser.

“but i tell you,” his voice was only getting more aggravated as you protested from saying the truth.“so why don’t you stop being a prude and let out what happened.”

“why do you care?” you’re pulling on one of your sweaters over your head, pressing your lips together immediately in a hard fine line in your own regret to your question.

oh, he was about to pull his hair out of his head, “i’m beginning to ask myself the same thing,” he stares at you, waiting for you to look back at him and when you finally do, it’s so you can watch him walk out.

“well it’s nice to see your beautiful shining face this morning,” blaise is all smiles the moment you sit down across the table from him, his eyes profiling every bit of your still freshly beaten features.

he seems to be the only one not devastated.

“dear god,” theodore’s face scrunches in shock as he gets a look at you from the side. “what happened to you?”

“piss off.”

“well!” blaise grins harder, “face matches the attitude for once.”

they sound like hounds when suddenly laughing, making your mood decline even more.

“alright, what happened to ‘er?” draco’s lips are jerked into a smirk as he leans further against the table, trying to look at enzo through blaise. “you didn’t hit her, ole’ boy, did you?”

lorenzo is far from amused. this kills your own bad mood to the realization of him staring at you, almost angered looking.

“i don’t know,” he barely opens his mouth to say it. “why would i know?” his harsh stare is still directed on you. “no reason to care.”

the amusement is killed immediately by his ill-mannered tone and the only distinct sound is the clustered talking of your fellow classmates around the hall. the tension is a thick warmth that they can all suddenly feel with discomfort.

you bite your tongue till you could taste blood. the metallic relish almost overpowered the barging stares.

“alright,” theodore coughs awkwardly from beside you, shifting so he’s angled directly to you. “you got your face beaten in, who did it?”

oh lorenzo would be so mad if you said it now. if you would say it to theodore, but not him.

“face beaten? that bad, huh?” you wince hard at the sound of pansy’s voice calling out from behind you. “i fucking hate those ravenclaw girls. they hate when they can’t have what you have.”

she slides in nonchalantly on the other side of you, continuing to speak without a problem, “you sure know how to pick ‘em, enzo.”

“what?” he watches her begin to examine the bruises and cuts on your face with a calm stare before overlooking the the food laid out on the table.

his eyebrows were pulled high, caught off guard to her sour statement.

“every ravenclaw girl you have ever touched, jumped your girlfriend in the washroom because your dick was that good,” she’s pulling apart food now, lightly stuffing her face as she continues to answer. “held her down-“

you got up before you could hear another word from her mouth. it’d be like reliving it to hear it from her. lorenzo looks between the both of you agitatedly, not knowing if to follow or listen. pansy raises her brows to the fact he hadn't moved.

“y/n,” he follows.

he attempts to pace fast after you from the other side of the table, a feeling of despair in his chest in the thought that this was really his fault.

“y/n,” he’s on your tail, close to grabbing you but you kept treading as fast as you could. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“think about it, lorenzo, why would i?” your finger nails press hard in and out into the palm of your hand. “it’s bound to happen with the number of girls on your track record.”

“okay,” he bites his tongue at the foul tasting sentence. “y/n, can you just slow down and talk to me?”

“what do you want to talk about?” you didn’t slow.

“will you please-“ he finally grabs your arm, practically yanking you back to stop and face him. “i need you to look at me and i need you to tell me why you wouldn’t tell me what happened to you.”

“how am i supposed to tell you that?” you look at him dumbfounded. he could tell you were still angry, or frustrated, or whatever it was you were feeling.

“i’m supposed to protect you, y/n” his eyes thin out into a squint as if shocked you didn't assume this. “i can’t do that when you don’t talk to me.”

“protect me, lorenzo? i don’t need to be protected. they’re teenage girls for god sake; you pull their hair and they cry.”

he almost laughs at your sour tone, wondering if that was the case for you. he doubted it, you wouldn't be caught dead with tears.

“still, why wouldn’t you tell me?”

he was starting to sound like a broken record, his own words were becoming annoying to him.

“because it’s embarrassing, alright? i feel embarrassed.”

maybe you did cry. you looked stressed, like you could be knocked to your feet at any moment from how unbalanced you were in the head.

"are you gonna feel good about telling me you got jumped in the washroom and didn't get the chance to fight back?"

he looks annoyed at your trap question. he was trying so hard to be nice, to just listen and offer what he could. but his patience was running thin and you could tell by the tint in his eyes. he didn't even care for the distraught look in your eyes anymore.

"fine," he turned his head to the side, poking his tongue into the base of his cheek. "fine, baby. you wanna be like that, that's fine. i don't really care anymore. as long as your fine and you don't care, i don't care."

this was a lose-lose situation. it always was when the two of you would butt heads. you both were stubborn and easily annoyed.

lorenzo raised his hands like waving a white flag, giving up. he started to walk away now and all you could do was watch—again.

“lorenzo, it’s been awhile,” a girl with dark brown hair straddled the bench to the slytherin table, almost sitting in his lap with a glint in her eye that made all of his friends frown. “we haven’t talked like you said.”

there’s a visible tenseness in him the moment she started speaking. his chewing came to a hault as well as any visible breathing. he’s not sure what he should do, he can’t think, but he doesn’t dare look at her.

it had been two days since lorenzo gave up on trying to comfort you and it was dreadful, for everyone. tension had been higher than usual and they would barely see the two of you in the same room without their being some kind of tightness in the air.

“i uh, i met your girlfriend.”

blaise looks to theodore who’s closely speculated on lorenzo and what he’ll say, what he’ll do. he sees the furrow that forms in enzo’s brow, the annoyance and even anger that dilates his eyes to the sound of her sentence—he realizes.

blaise now looks draco now, who looks back. this could go so many ways.

“my girlfriend?” his brow arches. this is what got him to look at her.

“yeah,” she smiles, he took the bait. she now takes it as cue to reach out to him, to make contact by pressing her fingers against his green tie. he feels a slight pull as she pinches the sleek fabric between her finger tips, attempting to subtly bring him closer. “she’s so darling.”

taunt.

“she tell you that we spoke, lo?”

“i didn’t have to.”

suddenly she’s on her ass with your hand wrapped around her hair, yelping like a kicked dog, “now fuck off.”

“now you’re acting all tough,” she struggles to her feet. “that wasn’t the case the last time i saw you.”

“maybe because you don’t have five other girls sniffing your ass and commands.”

she smiles, “sure, or maybe you’re just-“

you punch her straight in the nose, making her cry out fast.

“oh, jesus,” lorenzo grabs you by your arm, pulling you close to him as he marched you straight out the dining hall. “i thought you didn’t care.”

“fuck you, jackass, i don’t appreciate it when other girls are practically on my boyfriend’s dick,” you’re still pressed hard into his side as he lets out a loud laugh.

you wrench yourself from his side once out of the dining hall. you’re now walking backwards as you grab onto his tie, yanking on it, “grabbing his clothes and calling him something she shouldn’t be calling him.”

he’s grinning cheek to cheek at your angry rambling.

“fuck you.”

“yeah baby, tell me how you really feel,” he presses his tongue against the base of his teeth, watching the way you look at him with everything but hate now.

“i think you know how i feel.”

“yeah,” his lips prick into a smirk as he now grabs you, pulling you back into him. “you’re pretty when you’re mad.”

“is that right?” you’re wiggling in his grasp, now turning so you’re facing him. “i like when you talk to me nice.”

he scoffs, “you’re a brat,” but he still looks highly amused. “next time one of those girls come near you, tell me-“

“what, you gonna save me?”

“always.”

navigation.

@sophiekay20 @aliyahsutherland @thehuntress09 nblack @ishwiya @padf00ts-l0ver @thehuntress09 @Anushi @afidiofobia @black-rose-29 @i-love-scott-mccall @greengarsstuff @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @dayanaralight @sunsetcurve-95 @youdontlikethatdoyoucupcake @hopelessbutterfly @jameslover @colorfulpaperthing @therewillbedancing @lilytoyourjames @eichenhouseproperty @living-hell-7 @calums-betch @moonlighy @ancientimes @1Dcumslut @gabeisinluv @iluvt4ylorswift @liltimmyst @falcvns @alexxavicry @simars3 @grxcisxhy-wp @esposadomd @rmeddar123 @lupinsluvbot

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itsthestutterforme · 25 days

Text

Reacher’s Cranky Girl (Jack Reacher Drabble)

Summary: Reacher finds out that his best girl was having a bad day.

Warnings/Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, reader is black, sneakylink!Reacher, sneakylink!reader, sexual themes (fingering, oral sex, over stimulation, bondage, slapping), MINORS DNI

You woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

You couldn’t fall asleep until two in the morning so you only had five hours of sleep. You stepped in dog shit on the way to your car so you had to go back into your house to change your shoes.

Only for one of the heels to get stuck in a grate and tear off the back so you just settled for some flats.

You spilled your iced coffee on your silk shirt. At least it wasn’t hot because that would have sent you into a different kind of rampage.

When you finally get to work, your boss chewed your ass out because the printer froze in the middle of printing the investment proposal.

An investment proposal he needed for the board meeting this morning, which meant he either had to push the meeting to this afternoon or had to share the proposal digitally.

At this point, you were counting down the days so you can go home and spend the rest of the day rotting in your bed.

“Maybe I can call Reacher over here to help cheer you up,” your sister suggests, sitting in the chair in front of your desk.

“I’m not in the mood for teasing, Y/S/N.” “I’m not teasing you. I’m just saying that-“

“Not even Reacher can bring me out of this, okay? I just want to go home.”

“Y/N,” “I said leave it, Y/S/N.” You grumbled, shifting your attention back to computer.

“Okay, fine.” She says with full intention of calling Reacher anyway.

Your sister walks past the boss who was on the way to your office. He pops his head in the say, “Y/N, I need the updated spreadsheet ASAP.”

“On it,” “You’re still running point on the presentation, right?”

I thought you said I was incompetent.

“Sure thing. Did the board decide on a time tomorrow?” “Eight a.m.,”

“In that case, I’ll be in at seven thirty to prep.” He nods and gives a soft knock on the door before leaving.

Y/S/N closes the door of her office to call Reacher. He gave her his number when he found out the two of you were going to a concert in Philadelphia.

He knew you were the confrontational type and wouldn’t call anyone if you found yourself in trouble.

He wanted the er on the side of caution so he trusted your sister to let him know if anything happens.

Reacher was your sneaky link that wasn’t really that sneaky. He wasn’t easy to miss. He would walk into your place, fuck your face into the pillows, order the two of you some food, fuck your face into the pillows again then leave in the morning.

“Reacher,” he answers. “Hey, Reacher. It’s Y/S/N.”

“Is everything okay?” “Yeah, everything is fine. Um, when are you hanging out with Y/N next?”

“We didn’t really decide on a day this week,” Reacher states, unsure of where this conversation was going.

“Y/S/N, I’m sure you’re a great woman but I only have a thing for your sister and I’m a loyal man so..”

“Wow, that was not on my bingo card. I’m not trying to hit on you, Reacher. I’m asking if you can pick up Y/N from work today. She’s having a rough time.”

“Oh.. how rough are we talking?” “Like she’s about to bite the boss’ head off,”

“Okay, I’ll be there. What should I bring her?” “I trust your judgment, Reacher.”

With that, Y/S/N hung up and sat down at her desk leaving Reacher dumbfounded in Finlay’s living room while Neagley and David played video games.

“What’s with the face?” Finlay asks, handing him a beer. “What should I get a woman when she’s having a bad day?” Reacher asks everything in the room.

Neagley pauses the game and everyone slowly turning to Reacher who opened Google to find out the answer to his question.

He noticed the silence and looked up from his phone to meet their shocked expressions.

“What?” “You have a girlfriend*?” David questions.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he grumbles. “Then why do you care if she’s upset?” David retorts.

“Because it’s a nice thing to do for someone,” “Right, says the guy who breaks peoples faces for a living.” He presses the resume button on game.

As soon as the clock hit 5 o’clock, you gathered your things and sped walked out of your office. You practically ran into the stairwell when you heard an office door open.

You didn’t have any more energy to give to that god forsaken company today. You rush down seven floors until you reached the front door, inhaling deeply when the fresh spring air filled your lungs.

You heard someone to your right clearing their throat and immediately rolled your eyes. You were not in the mood to hear anyone’s cheesy pick up lines right now.

“Looks like someone’s cranky,” a familiar voice calls and you looked over to see Reacher leaning against his truck.

“Reacher?” You approached him with a confused expression. “Are you looking to invest something or..?” You trail off.

There was no way he was here for you, right?

“No. I’m not here to invest, peach.” He kicks off his car and closed the gap between you, towering over you in the process.

“Then why are you- I’m going to fucking kill her.” You seeth, turning to walk into the parking lot when Reacher stopped you.

“You want to know what sounds better than killing your sister?” he starts, slowly rubbing the sides of your arms.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his rough hands smoothed over your shoulders, humming in response.

“Some curry and sushi for dinner,”

That does sound really good.

“And my face between your thighs for dessert,”

God, that sounded even better.

“How does that sound, peach?” He questions as he continued rubbing your arms.

“Really good,”

“Good because Y/S/N already took your keys and drove your car home. Hop in.” Reacher suggests, opening the car door to hand you a Dunkin iced coffee.

“R-Reacher,” you groaned, twisting away from his eager tongue smoothing between your puffy folds.

He didn’t even wait until you were fully situated. Shutting the door, he took you in his arms and carried you into kitchen.

He set you on the counter and nudged you on your back. You gasped when he tore your pantyhose down your legs and lifted your skirt over your waist.

Pulling your panties to the side, he licks between your folds spearing your tight hole with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my God,”

Shaking his head, he buries his face deeper in between your legs. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucked harshly on your sensitive nub.

He gathered your slick on his finger tips and sank two fingers into you, expertly thrusting upwards into your gspot causing your body to twitch.

He made it his mission to make you cum quick and hard.

“Mm, fuck.” You rolled your hips to match the thrusts of his fingers when he kitten licks your clit, sending you over the edge.

“I-I, fuck. I’m cumming, Reacher.” “Let it go, peach. Let me taste you.”

Your legs close around his head when your body trembles under the intensity of your orgasm.

A satisfied sigh left your lips when you came down from your high, your limp body was sprawled out on the counter.

He doesn’t slow his fingers and you could feel another orgasm building in your belly. He draws figure eights on your clit with his tongue, causing you to whine.

“Wait, I-“ you push his head away and tried to slide away from him but he pushed against your hand.

“Reacher,” you whimper, twisting your body away and covering your cunt so he would stop long enough for you to breathe.

“Move your hand. I’m not done yet.”

“I need a break,” you breathed out. “Move. Your. Hand. I’m not going to say it again.”

You don’t move fast enough for him and he threw you over your shoulder, smacking your ass hard as punishment. He didn’t care that you yelped out at the sharp sting.

Dropping you on the bed, he stripped down to his boxers.

“Strip,” he commands and you pulled off your clothes in record time.

You pressed your legs together when he approaches the bed when he pulls you closer by your ankles and flipped you on your stomach.

He placed a hand in between your shoulder blades to keep you in place. He straddled your legs and pulled your arms outstretched before tying your hands to the bed post with his belt.

Oh, you were in some deep shit now.

Moaning when you feel his hard cock against your ass cheek, he took your face into his hand and made you look straight back at him.

“You misunderstand, peach. The dinner was for you. The dessert was for me. I’m not going to stop until you’re crying and brainless.”

#black!reader #jack reacher x black!reader #jack reacher x reader #alan richardson

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 7 months

Text

Sweeter Than This

Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of war and rationing, sexual inexperience, oral sex (f receiving), smut. Word count: ~3.1k

Summary: When Billy gifts her an orange, almost impossible to come by due to lack of exportation and rationing, he decides he wants to taste something sweeter than fruit. Based on this request.

Author's note: For @notasockpuppetaccount. No tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She sits down heavily on a chair in the staff quarters, sighing in relief at the rest she is finally able to give her aching feet and back.

It’s her first day at The Halcyon, one of London’s most prestigious hotels. Money has been tight at home since her father was drafted, and she’d enquired about work just about everywhere she could think of, in order to help her mother make ends meet.

She’d been surprised when The Halcyon had offered her a job as a maid, she had no prior experience and was certain they’d reject her. However, she supposes that in the midst of a war, beggars can’t be choosers, and they are likely as desperate as she is.

Her morning has been spent helping out Kate, a firm but friendly Irish girl, who has taught her how to turn down a bed and scrub a toilet until it gleams white and shiny again. It’s tiring work, the maze of rooms on every floor feels endless, and between being scolded for wrinkled sheets and improperly folded towels she is exhausted, grateful to retreat to the back room once she’s told she can take her lunch break.

Unwrapping the wax paper on the sandwich she’d packed earlier that morning, she wrinkles her nose in disgust. It no longer seems as appetising now that it’s been left to sit in her bag for hours.

She looks up as the door creaks open, a tall, young lad in a bell boy’s uniform walks in. He offers her a tight lipped smile by way of greeting, cheeks turning slightly pink as he moves to retrieve his own sandwich.

“You on your lunch as well?” She asks warmly. Having only spoken properly to Kate so far, she is eager to make friends.

“Yeah,” he says, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite hers at the table, “you mind if I, er…?”

“No, sit down,” she tells him, watching intently as he takes a seat and starts to unwrap his own food.

“Not seen you before,” he comments, looking up at her.

“First day,” she fiddles with the wax paper of her lunch, “I’m knackered.”

“Don’t I know it,” he says, loosening his cap and placing it upon the table. “Lost a guest’s dog this morning. Bloody thing slipped the lead when I tried to walk it.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, but she is unable to stifle the giggle that escapes her. At least someone is having a worse day than she is. “And I thought I had it bad scrubbing toilets.”

“You not eating that then?” He says, nodding towards her sandwich before taking a bite of his own.

She grimaces. “Fish paste. Not sure I can stomach it.”

He nods, talking around a mouthful of food, a habit she would ordinarily find disgusting, but she finds it doesn’t offend her when he does it. “Spam in mine. Mum makes ‘em. Same thing every day.” He swallows before he speaks again, with a slight raise of his eyebrows. “Tell you what, give me half of yours, I’ll give you half of mine. Less boring that way.”

“Yeah, alright,” she grins, sliding hers across to him. She watches as he takes half and then places the remaining part of his in the empty space.

“I’m Billy, by the way,” he tells her, the tips of his ears reddening, suddenly shy again.

“Thanks for the sandwich, Billy,” she says softly, before telling him her name.

They eat their lunch in comfortable silence, until finally it’s time to get back to work.

In the week that follows, her and Billy have lunch together every day, swapping sandwich halves and chatting about their days. The work is hard, but knowing she has a friend gives her something to look forward to, and she finds herself excited to go to work each day.

They talk about anything and everything, their hour-long break always feeling like it evaporates all too quickly. She tells him all about her dad fighting overseas against the Germans, and how she took her job at the Halcyon to bring home extra money for her mum, who’s currently doing factory work for the same reason. Billy tells her that he’ll be eighteen soon, and can’t wait to be drafted. His mum, Peggy, operates the switchboard at the hotel, his dad isn’t around anymore, so she relies on his help to look after his little sister, who he affectionately refers to as “the squirt”.

Shared lunch breaks evolve into after hours games of poker with the rest of the Halcyon staff. They crowd into the back room, sitting around the same table that her and Billy share lunch at, and play for cigarettes.

She feels her skin grow hot as their knees brush together, unable to help the smile that tugs at her lips as she watches Billy’s brow furrow in confusion as he looks over his cards, a lit cigarette perched between his lips.

“You’re smoking your stake, Billy,” she says with a soft chuckle.

He looks sheepishly at her, plucking the cigarette from between his lips, before throwing his cards down onto the table with a sigh. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I’ve got all Jacks.”

“Billy!” Everyone groans around the table in frustration, chucking their own cards down.

She laughs heartily. He might have ruined the game, but it’s impossible to be angry at him when his big blue eyes go wide and his lips part in shock.

Billy looks adorable when he’s worried, and it’s an expression he wears often; when he accidentally drops guests’ luggage down the stairs, the time he shuts a lady’s skirt in the lift doors, and especially when she leads him to the scullery, telling him there’s a surprise for him.

His concern quickly morphs into one of his trademark, tight smiles that indicate he’s feeling bashful, as head chef, George, flanked by the rest of the kitchen staff, carries out an enormous birthday cake lit with candles.

“You didn’t think you could hide it from us, did you, Billy?” George jokes, once the obligatory “happy birthday” song has been sung. “Eighteen today!”

She has her first taste of Champagne that day, each member of staff is given a class to toast to Billy. The bubbles tickle her nose, the taste is dry but not unpleasant upon her palate, yet it does nothing to dilute the bitterness that blooms heavy in her chest.

Billy’s turned eighteen, he’ll be drafted any day now and she’ll lose her best friend. No more shared sandwiches, no more ruined games of poker, no more stolen moments in the housekeeping closet where they laugh uncontrollably over stupid jokes. She’s going to lose Billy, just as she’s lost her dad to this stupid war.

Her heartache is given a brief moment of respite when she looks over at him, also indulging in his first taste of Champagne, and sees the way his face contorts in disgust at the taste. He’s always able to make her smile, even when she doesn’t want to.

It’s only a week later that Billy’s letter arrives. Due to Peggy’s meddling, he won’t be going overseas, he’ll be stationed at the nearby army barracks helping to man the anti aircraft guns. She is secretly pleased that he won’t be too far away, despite his annoyance at his mum’s interference. She feels she could kiss Peggy, such is the depth of her gratitude for what she’s done, but she does her best to hide how pleased she is, comforting Billy, saying how sorry she is for him.

“Cheer up, it might never happen,” he says with a soft smile, as they stand in the hotel foyer. Billy wears his day clothes, having handed his uniform in at the end of his final shift at The Halcyon.

“Already has,” she replies sadly, her heart twinging as she looks up into the big, blue eyes she’s grown to adore.

“How d’you mean?” He asks, frowning slightly.

“You, going off to war,” she sighs, “I won’t see you again.”

“Don’t be daft,” he chuckles, “I’ll only be down the road.”

“You won’t have time for me, Billy.”

He swallows, averting his gaze briefly before meeting her eye once more. “I don’t like fish paste.”

“What?” She asks, squinting slightly, confused.

“I’ve spent the last six months eating fish paste sarnies, just so I’d have an excuse to spend my lunch break with you. Fish paste is disgusting, if I can stomach that then it’ll take more than a stupid war to keep me away from you.”

Her heart flutters, her vision turning misty as a wide smile spreads its way across her features. “Oh, Billy…” she whispers.

Her fingers flex uselessly at her sides, desperate to reach out to him, and she sees his do the same. An opposing, invisible force hangs heavy between them, filled with unspoken declarations, drawing them together and yet pushing them apart simultaneously, until finally they collide in a tight, all encompassing hug.

He smells of Brylcreem and tobacco, and she inhales deeply, committing his scent to memory. She doesn’t want to let go, yet she does, she has to.

Adjusting to life at The Halcyon without Billy around is difficult. Lunch breaks feel empty and lifeless, the poker nights are not the same.

Billy still visits, though his presence is not as frequent as it was before. He’s usually accompanied by his little sister, carrying her into the hotel on piggyback before going to see Peggy in the switchboard room.

To her delight, he makes a point of seeking her out each time. He looks handsome in his uniform, filled with a confidence he didn’t have before. Animatedly, he tells her all about the anti aircraft guns, enthusiastically mimicking the sounds they make, causing her to laugh.

On her eighteenth birthday, Billy turns up at the hotel, looking dapper as ever in his khaki green trousers and jacket. He pulls her into the housekeeping cupboard, shifting the bag he has on his shoulder awkwardly.

“Happy birthday,” he says to her, almost nervous sounding, “got you something.”

She gasps, as he produces a large orange from his bag, handing it to her. The skin is firm in her hands. It’s been a long time since she’s had any fruit that isn’t mock banana; rationing and the lack of imports due to the war mean that it’s produce that’s hard to come by. The hotel’s chief concierge routinely has to decline the requests of high profile guests that request fresh fruit as part of their room service. She turns the orange around in her hands looking at it reverently.

“Where did you get this?” She stares up at him, wide-eyed. “Not even Feldman can get oranges!”

Billy shrugs, blushing slightly. “Oh, y’know, I’ve got my ways.”

“Thank you, Billy,” she says, voice filled with soft sincerity. An idea strikes her, excitement swirling in her stomach. “We should share it!”

“Really?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, unless…” she deflates as realisation of how busy he is now hits her, “you probably can’t get away, it’s a silly idea.” She shakes her head, embarrassment warming her flesh.

He steps forward, eager to reassure her. “No, I’ve got time, I can make time. I’ll come back tomorrow?”

She looks up at him, smiling brightly. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

He nods, half turning towards the door. “Well, I should probably–”

“Billy?” She calls to him and he turns back, a look of question on his face, eyebrows raised slightly.

She surges forward, pressing her lips firmly against his cheek, kissing it, before she quickly pulls away again.

For a moment it looks as though Billy has stopped breathing as she watches him, her heart pounding in her chest. Finally, he exhales deeply, his face blushing bright red. He grins and she smiles back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Billy.”

“Yeah…yeah, tomorrow,” he says, adjusting his bag on his shoulder again, before slipping out of the closet door.

He stays true to his promise and the following day they go to the back room, the same place where they have shared so many lunches. This time they sit beside each other, instead of on opposite sides of the table.

Carefully, she slices the orange into segments, giving half to Billy.

The fruit is fleshy and sweet as she bites into it, the tartness of the citrus causing her to emit a satisfied hum as she chews and swallows it.

She looks over at Billy, huffing a laugh as she watches the way the juice drips down his chin.

He looks back, frowning slightly. “What?”

“Come here, you’ve got…” she leans over, wiping the orange residue away with her thumb. Her movements slow, her hand lingering against his face as her eyes settle upon his.

It feels like time stops as their gaze locks, her breath catches in her throat. She is unsure of who moves first, but their lips are against each other, moving slowly at first, filled with uncertainty and inexperience.

He tastes sweet, and their mouths move with more enthusiasm, both able to taste orange upon each other.

They keep their foreheads pressed together once they part for air, both smiling softly.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day I met you,” he whispers.

Their relationship shifts from that moment. Billy is unable to take her on dates, can’t bring her flowers, his time at the barracks doesn’t allow for that. They have only a series of stolen moments in the hotel to share, sneaking into rooms which have yet to be made up to spend time together.

It is all sweet kisses and warm cuddles, neither one of them ready to take the steps that go beyond that yet.

She lays against Billy’s chest on the unmade bed, his arm wrapped around her as the other moves his hand through her hair, stroking it. “Hate that I can’t take you out anywhere fancy,” he murmurs.

“I don’t need any of that,” she reassures him, “just you coming back to me alive is enough.”

“You deserve that though,” he insists, hugging her tighter to him, “when this war is over, I’m gonna take you out for dinner. We’ll get married, and we’ll have a house and fill it full of kids.”

Her chest fills with warmth as she grins up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes soft and filled with fondness as he looks at her, “because…well, because I love you.”

Her grin grows wider and she kisses him deeply, feeling the way the skin of his face flushes beneath her fingertips.

“I love you too,” she whispers as she pulls away.

Their dynamic shifts again after that, their cosy stolen mornings become more heated, their kisses more impassioned, every touch is charged with intent.

Where she felt uncertain and scared of what lies beyond innocent kissing before, she now feels only desire for Billy, but isn’t sure of how to communicate this with him.

He pulls away from her as they share a passionate embrace, trailing kisses over her neck. “Can I try something with you?” He whispers.

“What is it?” She asks, whining softly as he pulls away from her.

“Something that one of the lads at the barracks told me about,” he says, not meeting her eye, “it’s how he pleases his missus, thought you might like it.”

She laughs softly, nervously. “Okay, but what is it?”

He swallows thickly, turning scarlet. “Can I just show you? I’m embarrassed to say.”

She nods, eager to see what he’ll do.

“Lay back for me,” he instructs, and she does, watching him through hooded eyes.

Tentatively, he moves down the messy hotel bed, pushing the skirt of her maid’s uniform above her hips, revealing her knickers and stockings. He bites his lip at the sight, never having seen her in such a state of undress before.

She gasps, her eyes going wide, sudden fear filling her. “Billy, we can’t–”

“No, not that,” he’s quick to reassure her, “not until we’re…you’re ready.”

She breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing slightly.

“But…” his eyes flit up to hers, filled with uncertainty, “I do need to take your underwear off. Is that alright?”

She gulps. She’s scared, but also curious and excited, she wants to experience whatever it is that Billy has asked to try. “Yeah,” she says quietly, “yeah, that’s alright.”

Gently and slowly, his nimble fingers drag her knickers away from her body and down her legs, discarding them at the end of the bed.

She has the sudden urge to hide her face as he takes in the sight of her, pupils wide with lust. She is torn between wanting to look away and the desire to watch exactly what he’s doing as he carefully coaxes her legs apart.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, “I-I’ve never done this before.”

She gasps as she feels his tongue move against her, hesitantly exploring her folds. The motion of his mouth between her legs is unsure at first, but as his tongue flicks over her pearl and she lets out a surprised moan of pleasure, Billy grows more confident.

He repeats the motion, causing her to squirm and mewl. It feels so intimate, she wants to pull away, filled with shame, to tell him it’s dirty and they shouldn’t be doing this, but at the same time, every time his tongue moves against that particular spot she never wants him to stop.

“God, you taste good,” he mumbles against her.

The movement of his tongue becomes more certain, determined and he laves at her, flicking against the spot that causes her to whimper and grip the bed sheets tightly.

She can feel a pressure building within her, intensifying with every sweep of Billy’s tongue, until finally as he groans against her, circling her bud once more, it reaches its apex and she shudders against him with a surprised cry, feeling boneless as warmth washes over her like the lapping waves of the sea.

“Oh, my god, Billy…'' She breathes heavily.

He lifts his face from between her thighs, a smile on his face, his chin coated in her juices just as it was when they’d shared the orange. She can’t resist the urge to tug him up towards her, kissing him hungrily.

They giggle against each other's lips, both of them breathless.

“I…er…need to clean myself up before I head back,” he tells her, his mouth forming a tight smile, the telltale sign of his shyness that she’s grown to love.

She follows his line of sight to the wet patch on the crotch of his uniform trousers and they both erupt into uncontrollable laughs.

Oh, Billy.

#billy taylor #ewan mitchell #the halcyon #billy taylor x reader #billy taylor x y/n #billy taylor x you #billy taylor imagine #billy taylor smut #billy taylor fan fiction #billy taylor fanfiction #billy taylor fan fic #billy taylor fanfic #the halcyon fan fiction #the halcyon fanfiction #the halcyon fan fic #the halcyon fanfic #billy taylor the halcyon

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lulublack90 · 11 days

Text

Prompt 17 - Hospital AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 17, word count 995

CW- Cuts, Animal attack, Bite marks

Sirius stretched across the gurney, carefully holding his cup of coffee so he didn’t pour the scalding liquid down himself.

“Hey, James. How long have we been on shift?” He asked his equally prostrate best friend. James groaned as he lifted his arm to check his watch.

“8 hours.” He yawned. They were on the night shift, and the cases were either dull easy to diagnose stuff that could have waited for a GP in the morning or total calamities.

He raised his head to take a sip of his drink when his pager went off.

“Damn it,” He cursed as he dodged the liquid that came flying out of the cup. “That was close. I almost marred my beautiful face.”

“Come on, urgent call to A&E,” James told him, grabbing him and jogging down the hall.

The room was utter Bedlam. People were shouting at each other. A nurse was carrying a handful of bloody cloth to the hazardous waste bin. More nurses were fitting IVs and monitors to the patient lying still in the bed. Nurse Evans moved out of the way, and Sirius got his first glance at what they were working with.

In the bed lay a twenty-something young man. Who could have been quite good-looking but now had long gashes across his face, one of which sliced his face in half from the corner of his eye, across his nose and finishing just above his lip. Sirius sucked in a breath as he took it in.

“That’s not the worst of it.” Nurse Evans warned. Sirius glanced down as his eyes darted across the rest of his body. There were more slashing cuts, and the soft flesh of his waist and abdomen had huge puckered holes dotted about in stretched-out crescent arches.

“Are those bite marks?!” James exclaimed, moving closer to the man. Nurse Evans nodded.

“His back is all cut up, same as his front. Whatever attacked him got him good.” She sighed. “Poor man, he’s going to be in a lot of pain and shock when he wakes up.” She handed over his notes to James and busied herself cleaning the wounds.

Sirius couldn’t take his eyes off the man.

“Do these look like dog bites?” He questioned as his fingers ghosted above the damaged skin.

“They look too big but definitely canine. Wolf, maybe?” James screwed up his face as he tried to figure it out.

“There aren’t any wolves in Britain.” Sirius objected. “Where was he found?”

“Er, notes say in the car park next to the—oh, for crying out loud. Next to the woodland park.” James scanned the text.

“Still no wild wolves in Britain,” Sirius muttered, only half paying attention to James.

He grabbed some of the disinfection materials and helped Nurse Evans clean out the wounds. James began spouting off multiple tests he wanted to carry out and leaned over Sirius. Speaking quietly so only Sirius could hear him, he murmured.

“Be careful, yeah. I’ve seen that look before. Don’t get too invested.” Sirius shook his head.

“I’m a doctor, James, I care. That’s all it is.” He lied.

“Make sure it is,” James replied, knowing full well Sirius wasn’t telling the truth.

Nurse Pettigrew appeared with his camera and began documenting the wounds in case it was a police matter.

“Should I send these to a bite specialist?” He asked Sirius and James. James nodded.

“Yes, that way, we will know what we’re dealing with. Send a couple of the slashes as well. I swear they look like claw marks.” Nurse Pettigrew disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared after taking countless photos and only disturbing the cleaning once to get shots of the man’s back.

It took hours to get the man’s wounds cleaned and sutured. He’d had multiple scans, including a brain scan. To make sure he didn’t have a brain bleed. But he didn’t wake up. They weren’t worried yet. His body had sustained a lot of damage, and nothing in his scans showed any reason for him not to be conscious.

Sirius’s shift had ended hours ago, but he stayed sitting at the man’s side. James had tried to convince him to leave.

“Sirius, he’s a patient. You need to leave. Please don’t get overly attached to him. You don’t even know anything about him.”

“He’s all alone, James,” Sirius sighed. He already knew he was treading the line between a caring practitioner and becoming too personal with a patient. “No one has called looking for him. The police say no one matching his description has been reported missing. It’s been hours. How can no one be missing him?” James sighed at Sirius as he roughly ran his hand through his hair.

“I know, I know. Just be careful, Sirius.” He clapped his friend on the back and left him to it.

Sirius slept in the uncomfortable visitor’s chair. He kept waking up to check on his patient, but he was always asleep. Morning came, and one of the Nurses brought him breakfast and took the patient’s vitals. It wasn’t until the afternoon, a full 24 hours after he’d been brought in. The man’s eyelids fluttered. Sirius watched with bated breath as slowly, slowly, the man regained consciousness.

“It’s okay,” Sirius said in his most calming voice. “We think you’ve been attacked. You’ve got a lot of cuts, so I need you to keep still so you don’t rip any stitches. But you’re safe, and so far, no complications.” He realised he’d taken the man’s hand and promptly dropped it. “Sorry,” He mumbled under his breath. He watched the man wiggle his now free fingers. Sirius’s training finally kicked in.

“I’m Doctor Black, Sirius. Do you know what your name is?” He asked as he pressed the call button. The man thought for a second.

“Remus Lupin.” He said faintly.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Remus Lupin.” Sirius smiled at him as Nurse Evans wandered in.

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trcpicoz · 7 months

Note

hey just wanted to say love your writing !!

have you ever thought about writing like what it would be like going to one of the guys’ games for the first time and seeing them do well etc .. ?

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬

a/n: tysm the positive feedback means a lot🥹🩷 also this isn’t proofread sorry for mistakes i hope you enjoy

warnings: smut 18+

you and ferran have been dating for 6 months and you still haven’t watched him play. you had been avoiding it since you were nervous about people finding out you two were in a relationship. you wanted to keep things private but ferran wanted to show off how beautiful his girlfriend is.

one evening when the both of you were on the couch he grabbed your thigh and pulled you onto his lap, straddling him and grabbing his cheeks with your warm hands. just as he grabbed you waist smiling like he was ready to pleasure you, he stopped you from kissing him. “wait wait y/n, you know we’ve been together for months and you still haven’t gone to one of my games” you rolled your eyes at him ruining the mood “i told you a billion times that i don’t want to go public right now, maybe in the future but i’m just not ready”. ferran stared at you with puppy dog eyes trying to get you to give in “you’d look so sexy with my name on your back” says ferran as he holds your chin with one finger and plays with your bottom lip with his thumb. you move his hand “fine, but you have to get me a suite or something i don’t wanna be seen” ferran smiles “finally amor, i can’t wait to see that shirt hug you body with my name on it. now let’s resume this” he pulls you in to deeply kiss you letting your tongues dance with each other the same way you dance in bed.

it was the morning of the match and ferran handed you your jersey for the match except he had a surprise for you. as you looked at yourself in the mirror before you left the house, ferran came up behind you wrapped his arms around your waste “i bought you something” you rolled your eyes “you know i don’t like it when you buy me stuff out of the blue” ferran pulls out a light blue tiffany box and you gasp “FERRAN THAT’S EXPENSIVE YOU DIDNT HAVE TO DO THAT” he giggles “yes i did baby you need to be spoiled, eres mi princesa” he pulls out a gold necklace with both of your initials on it and 16/9/2023 the date of the match. “you look beautiful” he lifted you up on the counter not being able to resist your lips “ferran papi stop you have a game” he looked at you in horny distress “just a quickie before we go please amor i need you” he says before deepening a kiss biting your tongue “score a goal and we can go at it all night, i know you have the stamina” you smirk.

you and ferran entered the stadium separately to get away from any press or fans that would spot you two together. you got situated in your sweet that had champagne and treats he picked out specially for you. you watched the game as ferran scored his first goal blowing a kiss in the direction of your suite to celebrate.

the second the door opened ferran grabbed your thighs and picked you up slamming you against the wall passionately sticking his tongue down your throat. “you promised” he said gazing into your soul with lust. you both smiled and laughed as he carried you to your bedroom where he threw you onto the bed. he pulled off your jeans and bit the band of your panties so he could pull it off with his mouth. ferran kissed your inner thigh slowly moving up to your pussy feeling the sensitivity increase. he started to lick your folds and slip his fingers inside of you looking up at your face and listening to every direction you guided him in. he suddenly stopped and stood up “turn over for me” “huh?” ferran grabbed your legs and pulled you into his crotch then flipped you over and arched your back. you felt his bulge rub against you through his boxers until you felt his thick cock spring out and slap the soft skin of your ass. he knew you had to adjust to his size so he started with the tip and went deeper as you got more into it. his strokes were long and gentle “you’re so tight baby” ferran moaned “it’s so fucking big it hurts but it feels so good” you screamed. he started going hard and fast until he came inside you letting his arousal drip out of your pussy onto his cock.

“you did so well princesa, lets go clean up and order some dinner i know you’re starving”

#ferran torres #ferran torres x reader #ferran torres smut #ferran torres x you #ferran torres x y/n #ferran torres fluff #footballer smut #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #footballer x you

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absurdthirst · 1 year

Text

Casual Neighbors {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: FWB, Oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, protected sex, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortions,

Comments: Training to be a nurse, your first patient is your handsome neighbor. Which leads to dinner, that turns into a FWB situation since Marcus is rethinking relationships and even having a family. Until you learn that you're pregnant when you are in your ultrasound class.

A/N: We based it alllllll off this TikTok. Yes, we are unhinged.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Marcus Pike MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Marcus is exhausted, he needs to sleep but he’s been working all night long. Too busy trying to solve this latest case. The suspect had been brought in for questioning and held overnight. Marcus ran out of time around six in the morning and the perp had been released, making his department scramble for the evidence to arrest him. Marcus knows it’s him, he just has to prove it. He sighs and makes it up the last flight of steps on the floor to his apartment. In his exhaustion, he misses the last step and goes flying forward, hitting his head on the bannister and splaying over the floor.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” You had been leaving your apartment to go get some coffee and study before your class, leaving your apartment just in time to witness someone go sprawling. Dropping your bag, you rush over towards him, luckily moving and wincing as he slowly shuffles to his knees and groans. “Hold on, hold on, let me look.” You drop to your knees and start to try to get a look at the cut on the man’s forehead.

Marcus groans, trying to get his bearings and he looks up at you with glassy eyes, taking a few moments to recognize you as his neighbor that moved in a few months ago. “God, you’re beautiful.” He murmurs, still lost in the confusion of tripping over combined with his lack of sleep.

“You did hit your head hard.” You joke, looking into his confused brown eyes. He’s sweet, and very handsome, despite the blood that is running down his forehead. You introduce yourself and tut, reaching into your pocket to pull out a pack of Kleenex you carry. “We should get this cleaned up, I’m a nurse- well, I will be one when I get done with my training.”

“I should get to hospital and I-” He stumbles as he stands up, clinging to the bannister.

“I can help clean you up.” You tell him and Marcus bites his lip, eager to avoid the trip to ER.

“Okay.” He nods and you guide him to his apartment, helping him when he fumbles to get his keys out of his pocket.

You help him inside and sit him down on his sofa. “Stay here. I’ll go get my kit.” You tell him and he nods, wincing but slumping against his sofa.

You rush back into your apartment, excited and nervous to treat your first ‘patient’ even though it’s something relatively minor. You’ve already checked for concussion, but you’ll check again. When you’ve pulled out your extensive first aid kit, you walk back to his door and knock on it before pushing it open. “Knock knock, you’re nurse is here.”

Marcus looks up, wincing at how quickly his head moved and he feels like an idiot for tripping up on the stairs. He watches you come and set your kit down on his coffee table and he blushes when you lean in towards him to start cleaning the cut. “Will I survive?” He jokes softly, admiring you as you concentrate.

“It might be touch and go, but I think you’ll survive.” You hum, looking away from what you are doing to smile at him. Telling yourself that you’re not flirting, you’re practicing your bedside manner. “You seem like you’re very coordinated normally, when I see you running out of your apartment in the mornings. Everything okay?” You see that his eyes are bloodshot, he’s obviously tired since you don’t smell any booze on him and he doesn’t appear to have any drugs in his system.

Marcus goes to nod but stops himself because of your hand on his forehead. “Yeah. Just exhausted. Work was a shit show. I haven’t slept for - shit - for like 48 hours.” He sighs, knowing he needs to take a few hours and head back into work. “I- you were heading out?” He remembers, wincing when you clean the cut.

“I was, and you need to sleep.” You tut, dabbing at the cut. “Good news is that you don’t need stitches, but just barely.” You hum, reaching for the antibiotic ointment and the butterfly bandages. “I’ll get you cleaned up and since you don’t have a concussion, I’ll give you some painkillers and then tuck you into bed.”

“God you’re the prettiest nurse I’ve ever had. So - God, I was lucky you were there.” He murmurs as you finish cleaning him up. His head is throbbing now, from the wound or the exhaustion he doesn’t know and he watches you fluster. “Sorry. I- you’ve helped me and I just can’t stop my mouth from blurting out the first thought in my head.”

“It’s okay.” You assure him, giving him a smile and patting his knee gently before you lean back and turn to your bag so you can get him some aspirin. “You seem sweet and for my first patient, you’re very cute.” You flirt, wanting him to feel good.

“Do you want to have dinner?” Marcus asks, flushing when his brain catches up. “I mean…I want to say thank you for helping me. You’ve saved me an expensive ER bill. Least I could do is make you dinner. Just you know, as neighbors.” He adds, not wanting you to feel pressured or awkward.

You grin, shaking out several aspirin into your hand and offering them to Marcus. “That sounds good.” You admit shyly. “As long as you go right to bed and sleep for at least eight hours.” You instruct seriously. “If you don’t feel like you are up to it, you can text me and cancel.” You grab a notepad and a pen out of your kit and quickly jot down your cell for him.

Marcus knows he won’t be asleep too long. He needs to go back to work before he grocery shops but he pretends to take your advice. “Shall we say 7:30? Do you get out of school? Or work?” He asks, suddenly nervous about tonight but he reminds himself this is just as friends. He swallows the aspirin after you get him some water and he takes the piece of paper.

“I get out around 6 so that’s perfect.” You nod. “I’m in school.” It’s easier to just say that right now rather than explaining you worked to save up for school and keep a budget that should carry you through nursing school. “Can I bring anything?” You ask, feeling slightly giddy about a simple dinner.

“No. No. Just yourself.” Marcus insists then downs the rest of the water. “I better get some sleep.” He stands up, swaying slightly, and he reaches for his tie, tossing it down as he shrugs off his jacket. He just wants to get into his bed, pass out and then wake up to plan dinner. “I’ll let you go. I can get into bed.” He promises, kicking off his shoes.

“Okay.” You watch him for a moment, struck by how cute your neighbor is and then you shake your head at yourself. He needs rest and you need to get out of his hair to do it. “I’ll let you get some sleep Marcus.” During his rambling, he had told you his name, but you hadn’t mentioned that he was still wearing his FBI badge with his name and picture on it. “Sleep well.”

****

Passing out in bed, Marcus sleeps for four hours and forces himself to wake up, getting in the shower to get ready to go back into the office. His head hurts but he takes some Tylenol and has a bagel, feeling better and ready to go back into work then go grocery shopping.

For your own part, you had a lot to tell the other girls and the one guy that was in your nursing class. Happy that you had been able to help, which was why you were becoming a nurse to begin with, and snagging a date with a cute guy. When class was over, you had rushed home to shower and pick out something cute yet casual to wear for dinner.

Marcus has a bottle of wine in the fridge, the pasta is boiling and sauce is simmering. He’s not the best cook but he’s pretty proud of the dishes he can cook. When the doorbell rings, he makes his way to the door, dressed in jeans and a button down, he tries to make this casual. This is not a date, it’s a thank you. He opens the door, smiling when he sees you in jeans and a blouse, and God, you’re just as pretty as he remembers. “Hey.” He offers you, feeling a little bashful now.

"Hey." You groan at the smell that is coming out of the apartment. "It smells absolutely amazing in here and I'm going to be in for a treat."

Marcus is pleased it smells good and he guides you into his home. “You want a glass of wine? I have white but if you want red I can open that. Or if you want rosé, I have that too. Or Prosecco. I can open that.” He rambles, aware that he’s nervous and that’s fully on display.

You give a small laugh, reaching out and touching his arm. “It sounds like you have a great wine selection, but a glass of white wine sounds amazing.” You tilt your head and check for any additional signs of concussion. “As long as you have one with me if you're feeling up to it?”

Marcus nods, “I’m feeling fine now. I had a good nurse.” He winks and makes his way to his fridge to grab the bottle of wine, easily pouring two glasses and handing yours out until you take it. “To my savior.” He jokes, offering a toast as you hold your glass.

“To good timing.” You offer in return, tapping your glass lightly against his. “It made for a good story today in class. How I got my first patient and it was my handsome next door neighbor.” You figure since you already know that he thinks you’re pretty, there’s harm in letting him know the same.

Marcus blushes a little, sipping some wine, and he sets the glass down to continue working on dinner. “Shit. I didn’t ask if you’re allergic to anything.” He curses himself, knowing he should’ve checked. “I’m making chicken Alfredo.” He tells you, hoping you like that and don’t have any problems with it. If not, he can rustle something else up.

“That sounds perfect to me.” Marcus really is a sweet, considerate man. His relief is written on his face and it’s nice to have someone actually care about small details like that for once. “So, Marcus, what are you doing when you aren’t going 48 hours without sleep?” You ask, knowing that he’s in the FBI, but you assume they have different jobs other than just being scary g-men.

Marcus chuckles, “I work a lot but I like to read. Watch TV. Try to work out and go running. Normal stuff. I, uh, I like going to the farmers market on a Sunday.” He confesses, knowing he likes watching the happy couples walk by while he wallows in his singleness.

You raise a brow in surprise. Most men would talk about the sports bars they go to or the dating apps they are on. “All of that sounds great.” You admit, watching as he moves around his kitchen with the ease of someone who is used to cooking this. It’s not a performance simply to impress you. “I didn’t hear about dating in there, though. I’m assuming that there’s not a girlfriend or wife in another city?” You hadn’t seen any women come and go. “Or maybe boyfriend or husband?” You add, not wanting to assume just because he said you were beautiful.

Marcus snorts, unable to stop himself. “I- I have firmly decided against dating for the time being. I had a difficult situation when I moved to D.C. It’s a long story but I was engaged to a coworker, she - she called the engagement off to be with her partner and I have kind of wanted to focus on myself and get settled before I venture back out there.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The idea that this might be a date dies a swift and disappointing death. You give him a small smile and nod. “Working on yourself is never a bad thing. It’s always good to know yourself better before involving someone else.”

“I really was ready to marry her, I was even ready to give up having kids, she didn’t want them. I- I don’t think I want kids anymore or to get married. It’s so complicated.” He’s been burned too many times. His ex wife had done a number on him. “Anyway, what about you? Am I dragging you away from a partner?” He asks, suddenly wanting to change the subject.

Your heart breaks for him, although you understand that after something painful, his viewpoints on everything might shift. “No.” You shrug and give him a painful look of commiseration. “Painfully single for the past…three years?” You nod. “Yeah. Three years. I’ve been busy working my ass off so I could afford to go to nursing school without having to work full time too. No time to do the song and dance and no desire to put up with the dating app bullshit.”

“I fucking hate dating apps.” Marcus confesses, stirring the pasta into the sauce after draining the water. “I can understand you being busy. What made you want to be a nurse?” He asks, shifting to serve the food in to awaiting dinner bowls on the side.

You laugh at the face he makes when he mentions dating, mirroring your feelings exactly. “Well, I always liked the idea of helping people. Like this morning. But honestly? I couldn’t really find anything else that held my attention longer than a semester or two.”

Marcus carries the dishes over to the table, setting them down and he heads back to the kitchen to grab the garlic bread. “Sit down.” He insists, “I remember when I was in school…I hated it.” He admits, setting the bread down, “I just wanted to get out into the world and make a difference.”

“I feel like that too sometimes.” You admit, reaching over and grabbing Marcus’s wine glass to bring over as you walk to the table. “But there is so much that goes into nursing that I can’t just jump into it. But I’m almost done.”

“You’ll be a good nurse. I can tell.” He winks at you and sits down, picking up the wine glass you just set down. “To impromptu hallway ERs.” He jokes at you and clinks his glass against yours.

“I am happy that my first patient was as nice as you.” You admit after taking a sip of the delicious white wine. “I’m assuming not every one of them will invite me over to their house for a homemade dinner to say thank you.” You set down the wine and pick up your fork. “If it tastes half as good as it smells, I am in for a treat.”

Marcus flushes slightly, not used to cooking for anyone but himself. “I hope it tastes good too.” He says and sets his wine down to start eating. He watches you eagerly as you take your first bite, watching for any micro expressions that tell him you don’t like it. He tries to not ask how it is, biting his lip to smother the question.

It takes you a moment. That slight pause where you just absorb the flavors of the meal before you react. Groaning, your eyes slip closed with a small smile on your lips as you chew. “Oh my God.” You cover your mouth with your hand to make sure you don’t show any food. “I need this recipe for Alfredo, Marcus. It’s amazing.”

To say he’s pleased is an understatement. He beams, ducking his head shyly as you praise him, and he offers you a bashful smile. “I’m glad you like it. I can give you the recipe. I got it online.” He tells you, offering you some garlic bread that he knocked up. He’s so happy you like it, eager to thank you for helping him out earlier.

“God, I can’t. You shouldn’t be this hot and a good cook.” You huff playfully, enjoying the way that the heat starts to creep up his neck. You imagine that if you were to try to feel his skin, it would be very warm. “It’s unfair. That’s what it is.”

Marcus snorts, knowing you’re just flattering him since he invited you to dinner. “Not unfair. I’m complicated. Got too many issues. Plus I leave my socks on the floor. Hairs in the sink.” He jokes, shaking his head as he twirls the fettuccine around the fork.

“Yep, socks, that has to be the deal breaker.” You joke back, grinning at him. You can tell he has a hard time accepting compliments. “Maybe it’s complicated because you have an intense job?” You offer. “I noticed your badge this morning. I bet there’s a lot of times things at work pop up and some women are idiots to let minor things get between them and a good man.”

Marcus sighs, setting his fork down, “sometimes. I mean, my ex was a coworker so she understood. She would rush off too for different ops. My ex wife…she hated it. Thought I was having an affair and making up the ops. Got to be too much and she wanted a divorce. Shit, I’m just spilling all my baggage. What about you? Why’s a beautiful woman like you single?” He counters, picking up his fork again.

“Scheduling.” You tell him with an ironic grin on your face. “Men don’t like to be told that they need to wait for sex because I have to work. Or study. Or sleep. So…” You shrug and fork up another bite of your dinner. “Just me and Bob most nights.”

“Bob.” Marcus chuckles, familiar with the term. “You deserve better than that, sweetheart. Too many people are caught up in media, wanting the perfect person to love them but we are all flawed. You should love someone, including their flaws. I- I’m a huge romantic. Love Actually is my favorite movie.” He confesses bashfully.

“Uh huh.” You nod and finish your bite before you lift your glass of wine. “I love that movie but I have one point that might get me kicked out.” You take a sip and grin. “The Walking Dead guy? His character was dead wrong. He ruined their wedding photos and the creepy board thing was way out of line. He expected her to keep this secret from her husband, he’s best mate.”

Marcus snorts, nodding his head, “you are right. Super creepy and over the line. My ex…her partner…he was in love with her and did everything he could to break us up. Succeeded in the end but gave me similar vibes to that character. I think that movie definitely shows the errors of love. How people make mistakes and sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad. Things happen for a reason. I’m convinced about that. I just - I’m not ready to throw my hat back in the ring.”

“God.” You stare at him for a moment, unsure if he realizes how perfect he sounds. “You definitely don’t deserve to be alone.” You huff, shaking your head. “Or at least have a fuck buddy who appreciates what you bring to the table.”

“Which is?” He snorts, “I don’t have anything to give. I work all the hours I have to and barely have enough time to work out so I’m not in the best shape of my life. I am - I am a desperate romantic and I get inside my head. I need something with no strings attached at all. And that’s hard for me, I’m not emotionless. I like emotions and I want to know someone before I take them to bed.

You might be about to embarrass yourself, make a huge fool of yourself and make your handsome neighbor avoid you like the plague, but no prizes are won unless you shoot your shot. “So fuck me.” You offer. “We’re both busy, single. We live next door to each other and think the other is attractive.” You pose, arching your eyebrow at him. “I’ll give you no strings attached and you’ll let me give my vibrator a break.”

Marcus nearly chokes on his food at your suggestion but then he thinks about it. It’s not silly, it’s smart. You’re a gorgeous woman and he is interested in you. Undoubtedly, he would never turn you away from his bed. You’re his next door neighbor though and he doesn’t want things to get messy in lieu of short term gratification. “Are you- no strings attached? You won’t be upset if I don’t buy you flowers or take you on a date?”

You snort and shake your head. “Flowers die, I appreciate the thought behind them, but I’d rather have orgasms.” You admit with a grin. “If you aren’t interested, it’s okay. No harm, no foul. We pretend like I didn’t say anything, we finish this dinner and go about our evenings alone.” You tell him. “If you are interested, well…..” you smirk and shrug. “We finish dinner and see how we feel after we get the first awkward fuck out of the way.”

His heart pounds in his chest and he hesitates but not because he doesn’t want you. He just doesn’t do this sort of thing, never has. Even in college his friends would make fun of him for not fucking a different girl every night. Maybe it’s his romanticism. “Let’s finish dinner and sit on the couch. See how things go. I want you, I’d be blind to not want you. You’re gorgeous. Let’s eat and then I…I wouldn’t mind my dessert being you.” He says with a smirk despite his flushed cheeks

Smirking slightly, you nod and fork up another bite. “Yes sir.” You tease, knowing that this is crazy but your neighbor is handsome and it’s been a long time since you’ve had a good man in your bed. Even if it’s just fucking, you know he won’t treat you like an object.

Dinner is enjoyed but rushed, Marcus scrambling to put the plates in the dishwasher and you stand up to help him. He hates when things dry in the pan so you offer to help him and he accepts. “Sorry. Not exactly foreplay.” He jokes as he loads the dishwasher. He knows he wouldn’t be able to concentrate without the dishwasher being on and the kitchen being clean.

You shrug, drying off the pot, “I’ve had worse.” You confess.

Marcus shakes his head, “I’m an idiot.” He admits, starting the dishwasher just as you’re about to wash another pan. He grabs it from you, setting it down and he pushes you back against the counter. Inhaling deeply, he leans closer to you, not kissing you yet. His dark eyes on you and he leans in to run his nose along your jaw, enjoying your perfume. “It’s been a while.” He admits, pulling back to look into your eyes, “are you sure you want this?”

You nod, dumbstruck by how handsome he is. “Words, baby girl.” He orders, and you swallow harshly, “yes.” That word sets a fire off in Marcus’s belly and he leans in to press his lips to yours, his hands grabbing your hips.

It’s surprising how passionate the kiss is. You can feel the built up tension behind it, repressed sexual need and want pouring out. Moaning slightly, you open your mouth and heat pools in core when he deepens the kiss. Sliding his tongue into your mouth and groaning into you. Your own hands slide up his back before you start to push up under his shirt, wanting to feel his warm skin under your fingers.

Marcus groans when your nails scratch his lower back and his hands slide along your waist, squeezing your breasts through your shirt until he can pull it over your head, exposing your bra. He leans in to kiss you again, tongue sliding against yours and he moves to kiss along your jaw and down your neck, trying to not suck too hard on your skin.

You tilt your head, letting him kiss along your throat and the thrilling sensation of arousal takes over. “I’m clean.” You hum, knowing that you should be demanding a condom, you know the statistics on STDs but you want to feel him. It’s been so long. “I- fuck, I’m on the pill.” You moan when his hands quickly unclip your bra and cup your tits. “Y-you?”

Marcus leans back so he can look you in the eyes, “I’m clean. Got tested a few weeks ago for my quarterly health check at work. I haven’t been with anyone in a while. I, uh, can show you if you want.” He offers but you chuckle, shaking your head. You highly doubt Marcus would lie about that to you.

“I believe you. I want to feel you. All of you.” You declare and reach out to squeeze him through his pants.

“Shit.” He hisses, trying to not buck into your touch and instead, he focuses on you. Leaning in, he kisses along your chest until he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking while he enjoys your cries of pleasure.

You’re going to fuck this man right here in his kitchen unless you move somewhere else. Gasping out, you clutch his head to your chest and moan when he bites down gently before soothing the ache with his tongue. “Fuck- bedroom?” You ask, not certain if he would want to go that far. For all you know, he might just want to bend you over the table.

The guilt settles as he realizes he should’ve taken you to bed. He’s not being a gentleman despite the fact that you’re about to have casual sex, you deserve to be treated properly. “Bedroom.” He confirms, pulling back from you and taking your hand so he can guide you through his apartment to the bedroom he keeps clean and tidy.

Turning back towards you, he works on unbuttoning his shirt, fingers fumbling slightly until you take over. “Thanks.” He murmurs, enjoying the brushes of your fingers on every inch of skin you expose. His hands grab your ass, pulling you up against him when you have the shirt off of his shoulders and he relishes in the feel of your breasts against his skin. “God, you’re beautiful.” He echoes his earlier sentiment, still meaning it while he leans in to kiss you again.

This kiss is slower, more seductive and you can tell that this man is one who likes to please a partner. Except, you don’t want to be soft or gentle. You don’t need seduction, you need sex. Reaching down, you fumble with the button on his jeans and pull his zipper down, reaching into his pants to cup his cock. “Marcus, I need you to strip down.” you pant, wanting to feel him inside you and squeeze him.

His groan is wrecked already when you squeeze him through his pants. Marcus can’t deny you anything, that has become clear, and he agrees, shifting to push his pants down. “Fuck baby, take - take your pants off.” He begs, wanting to see all of you. He kicks his pants aside, nearly stumbling while he takes off his socks.

It makes you giggle, watching him hop around even as you start peeling your own jeans down and shucking them. Going ahead and taking your panties off too, thankful you had showered and shaved before you had come over. Although you hadn’t anticipated sleeping with Marcus when you had done so. Standing in front of him naked, you let him look. “Do you want me to ride you or do you want to be on top?”

Marcus cups your cheeks, bringing your eyes to focus on him. “How do you want me?” He asks, wanting you to decide this first time. “Ride me? Me on top? Me behind you? You tell me what you need.” He demands softly, wanting to please you.

“Fuck.” It’s been a long time since someone’s asked you how you want to take them. Your cunt clenches and you know that you’re already wet enough to take him. Glancing down at his cock, you hum. “I want to ride you.” You decide, knowing that he would want to play with your tits and kiss you while you bounce on his cock.

Marcus’s cock twitches at the thought and he walks over to his bed, laying down on it and he pats his chest. “First you’re gonna ride my face. Want you to be wet enough to take me.” He orders, “come on. I want to taste you.”

You smirk, shaking your head as he looks up at you. Kneeling on the bed and straddling his waist, you don’t move closer. “No, I want to feel the stretch.” You reach down and wrap your fingers around his cock and start pumping him. “Feel the burn of your cock while I’m in class and know you fucked me.”

“Fuckkkk.” Marcus hisses, his hands sliding along your waist until he can cup your tits, eagerly squeezing them and rolling your nipples between his fingers. “You’re a dirty girl. I love that.” He admits, loving how you’re not afraid to voice your fantasies, your desires. “Take what you want, sweetheart.” He demands, trying not to buck into your hand.

You enjoy the respect, shuffling up and lifting your hips up so you can place him at your dripping entrance. This man who you technically met this morning is now inside you when you lower yourself down onto his cock. Moaning at how he is stretching you out and not regretting a second of it. Closing your eyes against the thick stretch of him and enjoying how breathless he sounds underneath you.

“Jesus Christ.” Marcus hisses, watching his cock disappear inside of you and he swears he’s died and gone to heaven. “Holy - you feel amazing, baby.” He groans, fingers caressing your hips as he patiently waits for you to adjust to him and get ready to move. His hands slide up your body to your tits and down to your ass, not able to get enough of you.

“Knew- knew you would want to touch.” You crow smugly, starting to grind your hips slowly before you lift off his cock and sink back down again with a moan. Leaning forward, you press your lips to his and gasp at the angle when he presses up against something wonderful inside you when he’s buried deep. “Fuck.”

When your walls flutter around him, his hands find your ass and he squeezes, unable to stop himself from smacking your cheek. You gasp into his mouth and he smiles, enjoying your shock. He repeats the action and you rock back onto him, keeping that same angle. “So good.” He murmurs against your lips, “you feel so good.”

You pant in agreement, your hips starting to roll faster, chasing that sizzling spark of pleasure every time he hits deep. It’s been a long time since you’ve fucked someone and had it feel this good. “Fuck it’s so good.” You whimper, holding onto his shoulders and kissing him while you rock on his cock.

Marcus shifts, sitting up so he can get closer to you, and he grabs your ass to haul you closer. You are now cross legged around him and he uses his new position to thrust up into you, his lips wrapped around your nipple. “Want to feel you cum for me. I- I won’t last long this time.” He informs you with panted breaths, not wanting you to walk away from this without an orgasm at least.

Reaching down between you, you start rubbing your clit. You know that he will feel guilty if you don’t cum and this will help. “Fuck.” You whine, body jerking up on a particularly rough thrust and your clench around him. “Like that.” You beg. “Ke-keep doing that and I’ll cum.”

He wants to rub your clit but you know your body best. He wants to learn every little thing that makes you tick. The tricks to making you cum and he will, just not tonight. When you’re here next, he will go down on you and make you moan his name. Find out all your sensitive areas. For now, he follows your orders and thrusts up into you, keeping his hips angled the same way so you can seek your pleasure from his cock.

It only takes another three harsh thrusts and your cumming. Fingers pulling away from your clit as you squeal out his name, walls clamping down around his cock in pleasure. “Fuck! Marcus!” You cry out, body twitching backwards and you would fall back if he wasn’t holding you close as he rocks his hips up.

“Fuckkkkk. Oh fuck. That was - that was hot as hell. Can I cum inside of you, please baby?” He asks, wanting you to be sure and when you nod, he wraps his arms around you. Dragging you into his chest, he thrusts up into you three more times until his cock twitches. Painting your walls with hot cum, he groans into your neck and clings to you.

Both of you cling to each other for a few moments, enjoying the afterglow of your pleasure before you pull back and tenderly kiss his lips a few times. “That was amazing.” You mumble happily, slightly hazy from your orgasm. “Gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”

“Me too.” Marcus snorts, kissing your jaw. “We gotta do that again.” He declares, eager to see how else he can make you cum. “And again. And again. And again.” He says between kisses along your neck and you giggle, running your fingers through his hair. He rolls you into your back and pulls out of you, groaning at the sight of his cum pooling at your entrance. “Oh that’s pretty.” He coos, sliding his fingers through your folds.

“Someone has a cum play thing.” You hum playfully, your fingers tangling into his hair to play with it. You don’t mind at all, you’re protected and this is fun. You’re more relaxed than you’ve been in months and it’s all due to him. “God, how do you feel?” You ask. “No regrets?”

Marcus can’t deny that. He likes to see his cum pooling in his lover's cunt. Part of him admits that it’s a breeding link but he wouldn’t tell his partner that. Not wanting to make them feel awkward. He smiles at you, pulling his fingers away and shamelessly licking them clean. “No regrets. That was amazing. I loved it. I want - I want to keep doing it. Do you?”

It’s hot to watch a man lick his own cum from his fingers and it makes you moan softly. “Absolutely.” You agree with a quick nod. “So much better than Bob.” You tuck your arm behind your head and look down at him. “We can keep it casual. Just text if we need to release some steam or set up a schedule if it makes you more comfortable.” You don’t particularly like planned out sex on a schedule but it’s not just about you.

“We can text.” He decides, not wanting you to feel like you need to fuck him every Wednesday evening. That feels too mechanical. “Casual and fun. If either one of us isn’t feeling it anymore, we talk. No bullshit ignoring each other. We are adults having fun.” Marcus pecks your lips, “I’ll get you some water.”

“Perfect.” You smile as he walks out of the room before you climb out of the bed to snatch your panties off the floor. Your shirt and bra are in the kitchen so you can’t put those on, but you can start getting dressed again. Since you’re done having sex, you don’t want to make things awkward by overstaying your welcome. By the time Marcus comes back, you are zipping up your jeans. “Thanks.” You smile when you see the bottle in his hand. “Did you get yourself some water or do you want to split this?”

“No, I'm good. It’s all yours, baby.” He promises, kissing your forehead and he walks back into the kitchen to grab the rest of your clothes after pulling on his boxers. Usually, he’d be asking if you want to stay for a movie but it’s clear that this is just sex and he will respect that. He has to come to terms with the fact that this is casual. He can’t let his romantic heart ruin a good thing.

Once all your clothes are back in place, you walk over to Marcus and kiss him gently. “I had a great time tonight.” You murmur, giving him a wink when you pull back. “Now I’m going to pass out and sleep like the dead until I have to get up.” You pat his chest gently. “You should do the same. I know you didn’t sleep for eight hours.”

Marcus chuckles, grabbing your hand to place a kiss on the back of it. “Come on sleeping beauty, let’s get you home.” He tangles his fingers with yours and walks you to his front door. “I had a great time.” He murmurs and you nod, “me too.” He opens his door, checking the coast is clear, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.” He promises and you step into the hall, crossing it to your front door. “Goodnight Marcus.” You tell him after you unlock your front door. “Night.” He offers you a little wave and waits until you’re inside before he steps back into his own apartment. With a smile on his face, he gets ready for bed. What a wild day.

****

“Fuck,” Whimpering, you curl your hands around the blanket under you, trying not to reach up and hold onto him while he moves over you. Rocking into you with hard, deep thrusts as his jaw clenches. Stretching your neck out, you kiss along his jaw, shuffling your legs higher on his thighs and smirk when he groans. Your walls had clenched around him, something you know drives him wild and he twitches harshly.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart. That - shit - you feel so good. So fucking good.” He groans and turns his head to press his lips to yours. Two months you’ve been in his bed and every fucking time feels as good as the first. He shifts his hips, trying to find that angle you like and grins when you cry out beneath him. He knows your body as good as his own and he uses that to his advantage to make you cum.

“Marcus.” You close your eyes and moan his name again, loving how he always wants you to cum. He’s a fucking generous lover and the times where it’s just not possible for you to orgasm, he still makes you feel like you’ve had a great time. Sometimes it just won’t happen. “Fuck baby.” You whimper, getting closer to cumming with every harsh thrust.

Marcus can tell you’re close. Loving the whimpers escaping your lips and he reaches between you to rub your clit. “You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” He asks, leaning in to kiss your jaw. His hips continue to keep the same steady pace despite his balls threatening to pull tight. He needs you to cum first.

The pressure of his fingers and the way his cock spears against your g-spot sends you over the edge. Crying out and clenching down around him as a wave of pleasure rushes over you. Soaking him in a hot rush of cum and making his thrusts sound so wet.

Working you through it, he focuses on his own pleasure. Picking up the pace, he hisses your name and starts to thrust harder and deeper. Grabbing your thighs, he pushes them back towards your chest so he can sink his cock deeper inside of you. “Fuck baby. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me-” He pants and groans, pushing his cock deep inside of you to spill his cum.

You love the moment Marcus cums. The furrowed brow relaxes and his entire body follows suit. Melting into you while he throbs deep, filling you up. The heat from his cum always satisfying and you sigh softly, your hands finally reaching up and stroking his sweaty back. “So good.” You hum softly, kissing him again as he lets go of your legs to let them drop back down over his thighs.

Marcus takes a few moments then pulls out of you, kissing along your neck and he grunts when he stands, reaching for the wipes he now keeps on his nightstand to clean you up. “You want something to eat?” He asks, pulling on his boxers after he tosses the wipes.

“I shouldn’t.” You sit up and sigh. “I have a ton of studying to do when I go home, but I know you will argue that I won’t eat if I don’t eat here.” It’s a part of him that you adore. Even though this is casual, Marcus is still a man who likes to take care of people and it shows. “So, yeah.” You nod and reach for your shirt. “I’ll eat with you.”

“Good. You want breakfast for dinner? I have bacon. Pancakes. Eggs?” He asks and you nod. “Take your time here. I’ll go start the food.” He bends over to peck your lips and makes his way into the kitchen after grabbing his t-shirt. He knows this is dangerously overstepping from “friends with benefits” but he wants to take care of you. The lines are blurring and that terrifies him but there’s nothing he can do except go with the flow. Not if he wants to keep you in his life.

You jump into his shower, cleaning up even more than the wipes. You know Marcus won’t mind, he’s told you to clean up however you need to since he cums inside you every time. Redressing, you make your way out to the kitchen, smiling at the domestic scene as Marcus makes you pancakes. “So how is work going?” You ask, sitting at the stool at the bar and watching him.

“Good. Been crazy. We have this case…a famous piece of art was stolen from a senator's house and no one knows how it was taken. No camera footage has been altered. No one in or out. It’s bizarre.” He admits, sliding a pancake onto your plate while he turns back to the eggs and bacon.

Humming, you shake your head, amazed at the things that Marcus gets to see and the people that he gets to meet. “Fun.” You reach over and grab his water bottle and twist the cap off to steal a drink. “Betcha it’s an insurance grab.” You tell him. “They are always trying to pull shady shit.” Marcus hums, and you grin - knowing he’s not going to tell you anything about an active investigation. “We are about to work on ultrasounds this week.” You are excited about that. “Should be interesting. Getting to see organs on the inside.”

“Oh that’s cool. My girl is getting so close to being a nurse.” He winks at you, turning back to the stove and you stare at his back. He called you his girl. Marcus meanwhile, is cursing himself for letting that slip. He’s crossing boundaries and he knows you don’t want more than just fuck buddies. Neither does he. It’s less complicated, he’s less likely to get hurt.

It’s awkward for a few moments, the silence settling between you before you clear your throat. “So, I am probably going to be dead after the test coming up next week.” You inform him. “It’s going to be days of studying so I don’t flunk out. Don’t be surprised if I come beating on your door at 2AM, needing to cum. On the weekend of course.” You add, never wanting to interrupt his work schedule because of your needs.

“You can knock on my door whenever you want.” He reminds you, “I’ll make you cum whenever you want.” He winks and slides the eggs onto your plate. “Just make sure you do well on your exams. Then maybe I’ll reward you.” He winks at you, already thinking about buying you something nice. He knows it might overstep but you deserve it after working so hard.

You chuckle quietly and wonder how he would reward you. “Hmm, then I’ll make sure to study extra hard.” You promise, groaning at the smell of the food and you take another drink of your water. It’s easy with Marcus and you know that you should probably end things, because you are getting too deep but you don’t want to. It’s fun and you really like him.

Marcus smiles, taking a seat at the kitchen table and he watches you dig into the food he made. It would be so easy with you but he can’t risk it. He’s been hurt too many times and you are just starting your career. You’ll probably move away when you get a job offer, or find some hot doctor to date. “Better study hard then, baby.”

“When I do pass this fucking thing and get my degree, I am taking at least a month off from everything.” You tell him with a groan after you fork a bite of his pancakes up. He really does spoil you at times even though he doesn’t have to. “And I’m going to do nothing but walk around my apartment naked, sleeping, eating and hopefully fucking.” You wink at him and grin.

“We can definitely accommodate that.” He winks, taking a bite of his pancakes and he is eager to have you pass this exam so he can celebrate with you. Maybe he can even take you to dinner. “Ultrasounds are first.” He reminds you, wanting you to know he remembers what said earlier.

“Ultrasounds first.” You agree, quickly finishing your dinner and it’s automatic to get up and help Marcus clean up the kitchen. He always grumbles that you don’t have to, but you would feel like you are taking advantage of him. You rinse off your plate and load it into the dishwasher before you lean against the counter. “I should probably go.” You hum, not wanting to but you know you need to. “Let you relax.”

Marcus sighs, reluctant to let you go but he can’t just keep you here all the time. “Okay baby. I’ll see you later.” He pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours, and he smiles against your mouth when you peck his lips. “Good luck tomorrow.” He murmurs, guiding you over to the door and you quickly rush across the hall to your apartment. You offer him a soft “goodnight.” He winks and shuts his door, sighing to himself. He’s too deep and he’s gonna break his own heart.

****

“Once you spread the jelly across the surface, make sure you press the wand into the skin firmly.” Your instructor speaks out across the room, five different tables laid out with students stretched out on them with their shirts lifted up. You are on the first table since you want to see how it looks first.

“Ohh it’s cold.” You always heard people say the jelly was cold but it’s freezing. “There has to be a warmer or something.”

“We will make a note to the suppliers.” The instructor chuckles as she walks past, your fellow student sitting on the stool to press the wand into your skin. The instructor stands there, pointing out your organs until she stops talking, eyes wide. “There’s your womb.” She chokes out and your fellow student’s eyes widen. “And there’s your baby.” She chokes out and everyone scrambles to look at the screen, their gasps echoing in the room when they see the shape on the screen.

“What?” Your own eyes widen in disbelief, lurching up off the table and moving the wand away from your uterus for a second before your classmate brings it back and the baby reappears on the screen. “There’s no- it’s a trick right?” You ask breathlessly, confusion and terror, joy and absolute shock rushing through your entire body as you manage to tear your eyes away from the ultrasound to look at your instructor. Needing to see that she is playing a prank on you and will start laughing. “I can’t be preg-pregnant.”

Your instructor bites her lip, “you might want to get a test to confirm but…it looks like you’re pregnant. Congratulations.” She offers softly, seeing the shock on your face and she reaches out to take your hand. “I know it’s scary but you can leave now. I won’t keep you here for the class. You can go home.”

She prints out a few pictures for you and you gather your things, almost in a daze. Shocked that you have a baby inside you. You know that birth control isn’t one hundred percent but you hadn’t had any issues with it before. You drive to the doctor on auto pilot, demanding to be seen right away. You need a blood test to confirm what you know to be true, but you need the test.

****

Marcus is coming home when he sees you standing at his door. He frowns when he sees your face. “Hey baby. What’s wrong?” He asks, immediately walking up to you and he works on unlocking his front door. “Come in.” He orders, guiding you into his place and he sets his briefcase down to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

“I-” You shake your head, thoughts scattered and you’re not able to focus like you normally would. The blood test confirmed it, and from the scans, you know the approximate date of conception. It lines up with when you were with Marcus. It was a week that you only slept with him one time. “I need to talk to you.” You rub your hands on your pants and take a deep breath. “Marcus, I- I’m pregnant.”

Marcus stares at you, searching your eyes, and he chuckles after a moment. “Haha. Very funny. What is this? Trying to make me have a heart attack?” He jokes and shakes his head. When you continue to stare at him, not laughing, he pauses and stares at you. “You- you’re - seriously?” He chokes out.

Your hands shake as you pull out the scans and the blood test that shows positive for pregnancy. “I was in my- my ultrasound class today and I- the instructor showed me.” You manage. “I- I’m so sorry, Marc. I’ve been taking my birth control. This is my fault. I’m just-” You break off, unsure of what to say while he takes the paperwork from your hand.

Marcus stares at the scan and the results. He always imagined this moment to be joyous. To be in a committed relationship that he’s happy in and have a stable environment for his child to come into. He always imagined he would be crying with happiness at the prospect of being a father. Yet right now, he feels sick. He’s not ready to be a father. He doesn’t have the house or the dog or the yard. He’s not married. “I- I don’t know what to say.” He says honestly, frowning at you.

Six words seem to crush your soul. You had imagined that he would be surprised but ultimately happy. Or at least warmer. Instead he is frowning at you and that alone makes tears pool up in your eyes. “I- it’s okay.” You manage, wiping your eyes and nodding. “I just- I wanted to - to tell you. You don’t have to say anything.”

Marcus doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t anticipate this and he needs to process. “I, uh, I need to - to process this.” He admits and hands you back the scan. He is terrified, scared to lose you since you clearly didn’t want to be in a relationship and neither did he. This was supposed to be fun, casual. “Have you…have you considered what you want to do?”

“I- I don’t know.” You admit quietly, tucking the scans back into your jacket and giving a small shrug of your shoulders. “I just - I guess I need to process too.” Process is code for not wanting to deal with it, you know that. He doesn’t want a pregnancy with a woman he was just casually sleeping with and by his reaction, that hasn’t changed. “I just wanted you to know.” You turn around and grab your bag. “I’ll go and let you….process.”

He wants to drag you back and make you stay but he can’t. He needs to think about what he wants. You’re in school, you have your entire future ahead of you. He’s finally getting somewhere in his own work after having to prove himself. He’s been married, he’s been engaged. He’s done the right thing and both times he’d been burned. You aren’t like his exes. You are so different. You’re incredible. Smart, beautiful and you rock his world like no one else. He wants you but he can’t hold you back. You’ll hate him if he forces you into suburbia before you get the chance to live your life.

When you get back to your apartment, you just….deflate. Closing your door, you lean against it and let the hot tears that you had been holding back go. Rolling down your cheeks as the reality of your situation crashes over you. You’re pregnant. Not different than if it were by a one night stand. Marcus clearly isn't interested in raising a child and you don’t know if you want to take up the mantle of single motherhood. The other brochures in your pocket weigh it down, making you wonder if you shouldn’t schedule an appointment.

Marcus doesn’t know how long he’s on the sofa just staring into space but he keeps running through different scenarios. Trying to figure out what he should do. If he was old fashioned, he would head over to your apartment and he would get down on one knee and propose to you, be there as a husband and a father. He doesn’t want to be insincere. You’d look straight through him if he did that. “Shit.” He rubs his cheek, knowing he needs to talk this through with you. He stands up, making his way over to his front door and he opens it, stepping into the hallway to knock on your door.

You lift your head off the sofa where you had been laying when you hear the knock on the door. You know it’s Marcus. It has to be. Making you wonder if he’s already come to some grand conclusion while you are still reeling from the news. Groaning, you get up off the couch and walk over to the door, opening it and leaning against it as you look at your neighbor. “Hey.”

Marcus awkwardly stands there, tilting his head as he looks at you. “Can, uh, can I come in?” He asks and you nod, letting him walk inside. You are apprehensive and he clears his throat, realizing he’s never been inside of your place before. “You have a nice place.”

“Thanks.” You wonder why the small talk but you just decide to go with it. “Can I get you something to drink?” You don’t wait for an answer, turning on your heel and walking to the kitchen to grab some water for you and him. You can feel his eyes on your back but you don’t know why he is here, but you’re sure that it will be a serious talk. Opening the fridge, you grab two bottles and turn to set one on the counter in front of him where he had come to stand and open yours.

Marcus takes the water and leans against the counter, looking at the pamphlets you have there. One for pregnancy symptoms and another for abortion. “Do you…are you considering it?” He asks, placing his finger on the brochure.

“I’ve made an appointment.” You admit, not meeting his eyes and looking around your apartment. “I- I figure I can cancel it or change my mind if -” You shrug your shoulders and swallow harshly. “I don’t know.” You’re slightly overwhelmed right now, unsure of what to do or how to feel.

Marcus hates the thought of you aborting the baby. He wants it. He realizes that now. He wants the baby and he wants you. “Is that what you want?” He chokes out, staring at you. He wants to know what you’re thinking, desperate to find out.

“No.” You shake your head and sigh. “But I don’t want to be a single mother. I just-” You close your eyes, more tears slipping down your cheeks. “I wish I didn’t fuck up. That I didn’t put you in this mess. You- you must hate me.”

Shaking his head, Marcus moves fast to wrap his arms around you. “No. Baby, no. You - I could never hate you. I-” He pulls back so he can look into your watery eyes. “I love you. I’m in love with you. Shit, that should terrify me after all the shit I’ve been through but I love you. I want you. I want this baby.”

“You don’t have to say that.” You promise him, shaking your head. You know that he doesn’t want a baby or a relationship. He had told you that he had just wanted casual, that he wasn’t ready and it certainly wouldn’t be with someone who didn’t have their life together. “I promise you- you don’t have to-” You break off with a small sob, knowing you love him.

“Please listen to me. Believe me. I was scared. I am scared. I’ve had my heart broken too many times and I - I wanted you to enjoy your career, your future without me dragging you back. I didn’t want to hold you back. I want you, fuck, you’re all I think about. I love you. Please believe that. I love you.” He pleads, wanting you to believe him. He needs you to believe him.

Closing your eyes, your chin trembles and you nod. “I- I fucked up.” You admit quietly. “I should have ended things a month ago.” You tell him. “When I knew I wanted more than just casual, but I promise, promise, that I didn’t mess with my birth control. I didn’t- I wouldn’t do that.”

“No. No. I know you wouldn’t do that. I love you. I have for a while. I should’ve told you that a long time ago. Baby…do you- I want you to be my - my girlfriend. I want more. I want you.” He promises, suddenly terrified of losing you.

You give a tiny giggle at being asked to go steady when you are literally carrying his child, but you nod. “I’d like that.” You tell him gently. “Although no more wine when you feed me.” Your hand comes down to your stomach in awe, realizing that you are going to have to completely change your life around. “Since I’m pregnant.”

Marcus’s hand covers yours, swallowing harshly, and he is terrified but so excited. “You’re pregnant.” He declares in awe, leaning in to kiss you. “I love you. I mean It, I loved you before I found out and the baby. I’ve been a scared prick but I won’t be scared anymore. I’m ready for this”

“If you aren’t…that would be okay.” You offer, knowing that this is just being sprung on him. You know it takes two to tango, but you had also taken the responsibility of birth control on when you had let him cum inside you. “I don’t want to push you to take on anything you don’t think you can handle.”

“I can handle it baby. It’s…it’s all I’ve ever wanted. I just gave up on that dream, having not found the right person but I’ve found her. I love you. Please don’t doubt that. Let me - let me be a father, a partner.”

You bite your lip, considering his words as you look into his pleading eyes. You can tell that he wants to pull you into his arms. Marcus is sweet and loving and you are lucky that he wants to love you and do this with you. “Okay.” You agree softly. “Although we have to figure out what we are going to do.” You both only have a one bedroom apartment, not needing as much space and now you need more. “But for now, I- we can worry about that later. I’m not having the baby tomorrow.”

Marcus knows he will already start to plan moving forward. He will find a house for you both. He wants to take care of you and his child. “No, we have plenty of time. Have you eaten?” He asks, worried you haven’t eaten today after all the drama.

You can’t help but grin at him, loving how he always wants to feed you. It’s like providing food is his love language. “I haven’t had anything.” You admit quietly. “I was too unsettled to eat and haven’t really thought about it.”

“You’re gonna come to mine, let me feed you, and I want you to stay in my bed tonight.” He orders softly, not wanting you to spend a single night away from him from now on. “I’m gonna take care of you baby.”

“You promise?” You ask softly, a smile on your face and lean in to kiss him gently.

“I promise.” Marcus tells you solemnly. He might not have wanted anything more than casual, and he was right, he was lousy at it. His romantic heart had struck again and this time he had managed to find the perfect girl and discover that she loves him like he loves her along with having a baby on the way. Casual had quickly become serious and Marcus couldn’t be happier.

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