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#don’t mind me. I’m on my way back from the bank and I needed a good laugh on the train after being told how little money I have
ozzgin · 15 days
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Listen, I am working on those promised WIPs, but I've had this idea for a long time now and yesterday I was too sleep deprived to do anything else. This is for my goat leg connoisseurs out there ✊😔 This is just the introduction! More will follow in time.
Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader
As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!
Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’
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There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.
Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.
You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.
“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.
“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”
“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”
“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.
The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.
“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”
“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”
His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.
“Perfect match.”
“Excuse me?”
He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.
Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.
“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”
The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.
A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.
“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.
The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.
“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.
“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”
A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.
“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”
You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.
“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”
Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.
“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.
He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.
“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”
For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.
“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”
“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.
You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:
“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”
Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.
“Who’s a buffoon?”
The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.
“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.
“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”
As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:
“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.
“What are you even doing here?”
“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”
“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”
“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”
“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”
Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 29 days
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tatted
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words: 1k
warnings: established relationship, husband!rafe, tattoos
“mmm, good morning wifey.” rafe pulls you in closer to him, legs tangled together under the blanket.
“i’ll never get sick of hearing you call me that.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes chest as you snuggle into him, the morning light illuminating the room.
you’re both still on vacation mode, having just gotten back from your honeymoon two days ago. “i wish i didn’t have to get up, but i’ve got an appointment, baby.” “wait, what?” you whine, picking your head up. “you didn’t say anything about a doctors appointment.” your bottom lip pouts out, making rafe lean forward to kiss the frown off your face. 
“don’t worry, we will spend all day together as soon as i get back.” rafe slides himself out from underneath you, quickly heading to the closet to get dressed. he waited as long as possible to get out of bed, not wanting to part from you, but now having to rush out the door.
“mmm, i’ll probably stay in bed all day.” your body was still on maldives times, not even bothering to readjust to being back in the outer banks.
“perfect.” rafe leans over the bed, giving a kiss goodbye. “no need for my wife to even lift a finger.”
you smile at rafe, cupping his jaw to give him a firm kiss. “come home soon, i miss you already hubby.” 
--
“that was a long doctors appointment.” you frown as rafe reenters the house. you eventually dragged yourself out of bed, taking a shower and eating what you considered breakfast despite it being past noon.
“you know, darling” rafe says as he toes his shoes off, leaving them in the foyer. “i just said appointment, nothing about doctors.”
“what other type of appointments are there?” your brow furrows together as rafe joins you on the couch.
“tattoo.” rafe says with a shrug, making your eyes widen.
“you-you got a tattoo?” 
rafe raises his left hand. you finally realize he has a clear wrap covering his fingers. you take his hand gently in yours, looking through the film at the first letter of your name, complimented by a small heart on his ring finger.
“i’ll put the ring back on once it’s healed, but just in case i ever have to take it off, i need everyone to know that i’m still yours.” rafe says, waiting for your reaction.
“i love you.” you finally manage to get out, melting into rafe, making sure not to press against his hand as the red skin heals.
--
“i’ve got something for you baby!” rafe calls out, smiling as you skip into the kitchen.
“what is it?” you question, tilting your head to the side, expecting rafe to be holding something in his arms, but instead he lifts his loose sleeve, revealing fresh ink on his inner bicep. 
“whats it say?” you quickly move closer to read the script, eyes filling with tears when you realize that rafes newest tattoo is your wedding vows.
“oh.” you cover your mouth. “rafey, this is so sweet. i love it.” you press your lips against his. rafe clearly saw your reaction to the first tattoo, the way your eyes tracked over it whenever he moved his hands, the way you were practically begging to be fingered with just his tattooed finger, watching it disappear inside of you, the cold press of his ring against your cunt.
“love having reminders of the best day of my life on my body.” rafe never viewed himself as a tattoo guy, seeing himself as too indecisive, but his mind quickly changed when he realized they could all be dedicated to you, the one constant, the one steady thing in his life.
--
“i’m thinking about getting another tattoo.” rafe hums. its been a couple months and the script on his forearm is now fully healed. 
“really?” you hum. “what are you thinking, my name on your dick?” you joke, but rafe still cringes thinking about the needle dragging over his sensitive skin.
“definitely not. i was thinking your eyes on the back of my neck.” rafe turns, rubbing his hand over the area he was thinking.
“wouldn’t that hurt a lot?” you ask with a pout, but rafe just shrugs.
he makes an appointment the very same day, looking through all the pictures he has saved of you until he finds the perfect one. you’re smiling at him on the other side of the table on your two year anniversary of dating. 
he shows it off to you a week later, and you’re surprised how much you like it, kissing down his spine when you help him take his shirt off before looking at yourself in the eyes, but in tattoo form.
--
rafe won’t admit it to you, but he’s addicted to getting tattoos, wanting to cover his body in everything and anything relating to you. he does end up getting a few others, mostly to fill up what he feels are blankspots, a smattering of patchwork tattoos covering his body, along with a few more dedicated to you.
“rafey?” you call to him as he comes home, his hand now wrapped in clear plastic. 
“hey baby.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you eye the wrap until rafe turns his hand to reveal that he has the word married across the side, yet another reminder of your union.
“i was actually thinking…” you mumble before trailing off, not restarting your sentence until rafe nods at you to continue, looking at you expectantly. “i was actually thinking of getting a tattoo myself. just the letter r on my ring finger. to match yours.” 
you twist your ring on your hand shyly, not sure if rafe would like the idea of you getting tattoos. you’ve never shown any interest in getting them yourself, but you’ve had to take your ring off enough times to swim or wash dishes and don’t want to be without that reminder of rafe even for a short amount of time.
rafes smile stretches across his cheeks. “i thought you’d never ask, wifey.”
rafe sets an appointment for you with his favorite tattooer before you can second guess yourself.
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months
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How JJK men act in and after a fight
Pairing: Gojo x reader, Megumi x reader, Nanami x reader
Word Count: 4,1k (a big baby)
Warnings: obviously hurt in every part but also a loooot of fluff, Megumi being as inexperienced as he is lol, Nanami's part is pure fan service, you're very welcome
Notes: I consider writing part ll of that with Choso, Geto and maybe Toji. If you're down for that, just leave me a comment or a like <3 as always thank y'all from the bottom of my heart for the love and support you give me, I truly don't deserve it <3
Part ll with Geto, Choso and Yuji can be found here
Tags: @ifuckfictionalmen @sanicsmut
Gojo Satoru
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“So you think I’m being ridiculous? I saw the way she looked at you and how her hand brushed against yours way too often”, you hiss, whole body trembling in pure rage.
“Oh, so every woman that touches me is apparently into me, now I get it”, he sarcastically remarks.
You bite your tongue, desperately trying to stop yourself from crying. Why is he not able to understand that you don’t feel comfortable with that situation at all? You told him over and over, especially when she completely ignored your presence on your first meeting. How does he not see all of this?
“You…You transferred money to her. A lot, actually. And all of that after she completely ignored me when you introduced me”
“Just like I do for you-“
“I’m your wife, moron!”, you scream on top of your lungs.
Satoru’s face is twisted in annoyance. He thought he’d come home to your loving arms, cuddling on the couch after a stressful day. But this? You stormed into him the second he opened the door, holding up bank statements. Over the past weeks, this happened way too often, interrupting your otherwise very peaceful marriage in a way Satoru can’t take any longer.
“So what? We’re colleagues, (y/n). You are my wife, why don’t you get that I am forced to work with other women from time to time?”, he questions.
The way he rolls his blue orbs at you sends you over the edge completely.
“So colleagues transfer money, hold deep eye contact and touch each other oh so casually when having a conversation? Don’t fuck with me, Satoru. I told you over and over that it bugs me, that I’m concerned. And you do absolutely nothing about it.”
“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a bitch!”, he cries out in frustration.
Your heart sinks immediately when is words hit you with full force. Even though your relationship with Satoru does get pretty heated from time to time, he never called you names. Never.
Not until now, when it comes to that woman.
You need to get off his sight, away from his stinging presence. Without saying another word, you storm into your shared bedroom and lock the door behind you before he’s able to follow you.
“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a bitch!”
His stinging words repeat themselves over and over in your head while you can’t hold back your tears any longer. This is so unfair. Why is he too blind to see the way she hunts after him, that she wants him to be more than a simple colleague? All you want him is to understand how uncomfortable this situation is for you, that you feel somehow betrayed.
“Open the door, (y/n)”, his clear voice is heard from behind the door.
Satoru knew he overdid it the second he saw the devastated look on your face. No matter how ridiculous this whole topic is, you don’t deserve his anger towards you. Mei isn’t more than a colleague for him though, a woman he has worked with on missions for years. She surely doesn’t like him like that, it’s simply impossible-
His phone vibrates in his pants, making him take a look at the screen.
What do you think about dinner tonight? Just the two of us.
He signs at her message, realization hitting him like a wall. Fuck, what did he do? The countless times her touch brushed over him, the messages she sent him not work related at all every night and how she always avoided the conversation when it came to you flood his mind uncontrollably. How could he make you feel this way? You told him over and over that you feel uncomfortable with this situation, asked him for compromises. And now…
Now he made you feel unwanted, delusional and dumb. You are his wife, the love of his life, the one thing that keeps him going in this world full of madness.
“Can you let me in, (y/n)? I’m sorry…”, he hushes against the closed door.
You can’t catch your breath, dry sobs hunt your body down when a new wave of sorrow washes over you. Does he even love you? All this time you thought you were the love of his life, his pride. But now…It feels like he chose that woman over you, that he cares about her opinion and feelings more than yours.
“I’m coming in”, he softly announces.
Of course, a simple closed door can’t keep him out if he doesn’t want to.
The second he lays his eyes on your crumpled on the floor figure, his heart completely breaks. Instantly, he kneels down in front of you and embraces you in his arms while your sobs make him hate himself even more.
“I’m so unbelievable sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean it like that at all. It’s just that in my world, there’s only you and no one else. I never understood how you even get the idea of me liking another woman because this scenario is ridiculous to me. I shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that. I’m so so sorry…”, he mumbles against your ear.
Despite his words still haunt your mind, you can’t help but let yourself fall at least a little into his inviting arms, tears staining his uniform.
“I will talk to her and make clear that you are the one and only for me, I promise.”
It’s impossible to stay mad at him for long. You wrap your longing arms around him, forehead pressed against his.
“So you understand my point?”, you mutter.
“I do and I’m sorry for making you feel this way. You are the only woman in my life and I love you more than anything else”, he reassures you once again.
You definitely won’t get him away this easily. After all, words mean nothing without action. But this is a step in the right direction and for now, you can definitely live with that.
“Now, please stop crying, I’ll call her right away and we’ll watch your favorite show and order some food after, what do you think?”
“Only if you pay”, you sniff.
Megumi Fushiguro
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“Oh, where are you going?”, you question when your boyfriend Megumi gets up from the bed so early in the morning that it’s still dark outside.
The last few weeks were like a trip to hell and back, it seems like your relationship consists of Megumi going on missions while you have to stay behind. Before this night, you haven’t seen him for one whole week and while you do understand his responsibly as a jujutsu sorcerer, you can’t help but feel hurt.
“On a mission of course”, he remarks dryly.
Your eyes begin to burn as your heart sinks. It’s like you don’t know him anymore, as if he’s only the shell of the man you used to love. Is he so sick of you that he doesn’t want to spend a single day on your side? Is all of this on purpose? You can’t hold back any longer.
“You’re always leaving me”, you blurt out.
It shouldn’t bother you. After all, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer yourself. Despite being Shoko’s trainee you should be aware of the fact that this job is a mess and means you have to dedicate your whole life to it.
But still you can’t help but fell hurt. Hurt because your boyfriend doesn’t even smile anymore when he returns, hurt because he comes and goes without saying a word, hurt because you feel like you lost him.
“What was that?”, he grumbles.
“Do you think I do this on purpose?”
“I just feel like you’re never here. And I miss you.”
“Not all of us have an easy job like you, (y/n).”
You swallow hard. Wow, that is new. And extremely painful. Even though you aren’t out there fighting, you still have a lot to do, working your ass off so everyone survives, day and night ready if something happens. This is just not fair.
“You think my job is easy? Stitch yourself up next time, then”, you hiss and cross your arms over your chest.
“Don’t come at me. You started this whole thing!”
“Yeah, I ‘started this whole thing’ because you are my boyfriend and I love you, and I…I fucking miss you! But fine, if you don’t feel the same I’ll just leave.”
It’s ridiculous and you know it, mind screaming violently, begging you to stay. But your heart can’t. This was simply too much. You can’t stay here with a boy that treats you like this.
“If you leave now-“
“Then what?”, you interrupt him immediately, cold eyes glaring at him while your hand rests on the door.
“You’ll leave? You leave every time, Megumi. See you around…Or not.”
And with that, you leave him standing in his room alone, staring at the door like an idiot. What the hell has gotten into you? Since when are you acting up like that? He doesn’t know you like that. But still, your words do make him wonder if you’re somehow right…
He shakes his head violently. No, you’re being ridiculous. Maybe you need to sleep in and you’ll figure this out as soon as he returns.
But one things for sure: Megumi definitely won’t make the first move.
And so days pass until finally weeks begin to pass without both of you saying a single word to each other. Every time you see him you feel like dying inside, heart screaming at you in agony to stop your stubbornness, to approach him and say sorry. But you can’t. You simply can’t over the fact that he let you go like that, not even looking your direction when you cross each other. It’s like he doesn’t know you anymore despite all the nights you shared with each other, despite the intimate moments you’ve had.
No, it seems like he doesn’t care at all.
“Hey (y/n)!”, Nobara greets you.
“Hey, I’m in a bit of a rush”, you explain briefly, already on your way to assist Shoko in an autopsy of a curse.
“It’s just…(y/n), are you and Megumi okay?”, Nobara mutters, her face twisted in concern like you’ve never seen before.
You stop in your tracks, a new wave of grief washing over you. No, nothing is okay, absolutely nothing to be exact. You want to scream it into her face, break down crying, let all your feelings out. But instead, you just gift her an empty smile and say:
“Sure.”
‘Sure’ as if he never raised his voice at you, ‘sure’ as if Megumi would care about you feeling lonely and missing him, ‘sure’ as if you actually meant something to him
“I mean it’s none of my business but…You guys haven’t talk for what feels like an eternity, you are no longer there and I’m just worried that he messed things up with you, y’know…Well, let me know if I can help you with something, okay?”
She gently places her hand on your shoulder while you have to force yourself to not shed a tear. Oh, if she only knew. If she only knew that the last weeks were absolute hell, that you feel like dying inside. But this is something you and Megumi have to deal with alone. Even Nobara can’t help you with that.
You say goodbye to her and walk towards the laboratory, tears still stinging threatening in your eyes. How much you long for talking to him, to tell him how much his words really hurt you. But you can’t bring yourself to make the first step. After all, you tried to talk this out multiple times only for him to not even listen. No, this time he’ll have to make the first move if he wants you back.
If…
“(y/n).”
That voice. That oh so familiar voice that makes your heart skip a beat.
“Megumi”, you breathe out, slowly turning around to face him.
There he stands, scratching his head while looking at your feet, eyes not meeting your gaze.
“How…how you’ve been?”
Even a blind man would see the blush creeping up his face…Is he embarrassed? Painfully awkward silence hangs between you two as all you can do is stare at him, your blood slowly but surely boiling up. Is he really asking you how you’ve been after not talking to you for weeks, ignoring you every time he saw you?
“You have some fucking nerves”, you spit at him, closing the gap between you two with a rushed movement.
“You’re not talking with me for weeks and now you’re asking how I’ve been? I’ve been miserable, Megumi. I felt like dying every time you ignored me!”
Fuck, don’t cry. Don’t let him see how you really feel. Your trembling hands frantically wipe away the threatening tears, eyes darted towards him.
“I just couldn’t, (y/n). It’s just…I…”, he stumbles over his very own words, fingers over and over running through his hair.
“I was able to see it until I thought about it. I’ve been a horrible boyfriend, (y/n). So horrible that I thought you’d be better off without me. But I’m simply too selfish to let you go. I’m sorry for not making time for you, I’m sorry for treating you like shit, I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t love you when in reality, all I was able to think about was you and how much I missed you sleeping besides me”, he suddenly blurts out, leaving you completely speechless.
This is everything. Everything you longed for, ever single word you graved so deeply. Did this thick silence really change the way he sees your relationship now? A look into his sorrow – filled eyes is enough to realize that he’s telling the truth, making your heart jump up and down.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because I know I’m not the boy you deserve and I’d fully understand if you’re having enough of me. I just wanted to let you know that I can see it now and that I want to give you what you deserve if you let me.”
The glistening in his eyes literally begs you for a second chance while your very own heart screams at you. Of course you want him back, Megumi is everything you ever wanted. But he’ll have to show that it’s really different this time.
“Promise me something”, you announce.
He tilts his head to his side, brows furrowed in confusion.
“What?”
“Promise me you’ll stay with me today, that we’ll spend time together. No mission, no obligations.”
“I’ll stay as long as you need, as long as you want me around, (y/n). This time without you hurt like hell, I simply don’t want to let you go again”, he hushes, his tender fingertips brushing over your arms.
“That sounds good…”, you mutter, resting your head against his chest.
God, how much you missed that feeling. Even though your relationship had its ups and downs, you always admired the way Megumi was able to calm you down in an instant with a simple touch of his hand.
Maybe you will figure it out now. And maybe him not having time for you stays in the past forever.
Kento Nanami
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“Fuck”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
You’re on your way home after a pretty ugly mission. And even though Shoko already stitched you up, you feel like dying. Everything just hurts, it’s hard to even walk.
The thought of your husband at home makes your guts turn. Not because you don’t love him or aren’t longing to see him, but because of your recent conversation.
“It can’t go on like this, (y/n). You’re always injured and it’s starting to concern me. Maybe I have to talk t-“
“No”, you interrupted him immediately.
“Please don’t. I’ll be careful from now on. I promise.”
“Fine. But if this happens again, I’ll have a talk with the elders.”
And it happened again. All these missions one after another really took their toll on your concentration. One moment of unwariness was enough to sweep you off your feet, thigh sliced open in the nastiest way you’ve ever seen. Shoko told you it will take some time to heal entirely, but if Kento gets to see this…
“Maybe I should call Nanami to pick you up. You really can’t walk like that (y/n).”
“No, please don’t!”, you begged Shoko for dear life.
“I don’t want this to cause trouble. It’s fine, really!”
“You almost died, (y/n)”, she remembered you dryly.
“And I will definitely die if you tell him. Please Shoko.”
She signed.
“Fine. Just be careful and visit me tomorrow…”
You swallow. A fight seems inevitable if you won’t hide your wound from him.
You take a deep breath, keys trembling in your sweaty palms. Fuck, why does this have to ache so badly? Shoko gave so some pain killers, you shouldn’t feel a single thing.
No, focus. Pain is only in your head. But Kento is very real.
With one last stolen glance at your injured leg you open the door, forcing a smile on your face. Where is he? Your heart beats out of your chest, hands so sweaty that you have to wipe them on your coat.
“Kento?”, you shout into the quiet living room, closing the door behind you gently.
“There you are, sweetheart”, his voice coos out of the bedroom.
Your breath hitches, eyes wide open at the sight in front of you. There he stands, your loving husband. Dressed in nothing but his pants, bare chest immediately captivating you. Oh god, he looks so delicious that you feel like fainting, hungry eyes roaming over his tight muscles as if you haven’t seen him like that hundreds of times before.
“Where have you been? A mission like that shouldn’t take this long.”
He begins to approach you elegantly, staring at you with a small smile on his delicate lips.
“Y-yeah…Still had something to…y’know…say…to Shoko”, you stutter.
Why does he have to look so absolutely delicious? And why does your leg suddenly feel so…wet?
“Are you alright? You seem a little unfocused today. Did you get hurt?”
His eyes scan over your body without any mercy, forcing you to hide your leg behind the other.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine”, you press out.
No, you’re anything but fine. The way your other leg brushes against your injured one makes you see stars. You feel like fainting and throwing up at the same time, sweat running down your forehead uncontrollably. You need medication – now.
“I planned something very excited for us today. Something you might like”, he purrs, closing the distance between your bodies.
His hand grabs your waist passionately while your mixed emotions take your breath away. God, how much you love the way his arms wrap themselves around you, knowing exactly that this leads you directly into the bedroom.
But that means…
“Oh yeah?”, you chuckle nervously.
That means he’ll see the wound you’re so desperately trying to hide.
“Absolutely”, he breathes against your ear.
Oh god, this is so good…No, it’s not good at all. You need to get away from him, out of this misery, into t-
A toe-curling scream escapes your lips before you even realize what is happening, body stumbling backwards.
“(y/n)!”, Nanami mutters, eyes wide open.
He squeezed your leg like he always does and just the way you like it. Why on earth are you acting like that? That haunted look on your face almost makes it seem as if he hurt you.
Lost in thoughts, he looks down at his hand.
His blood-smeared hand.
It slowly dawns to him. No, it isn’t because he did something you don’t like. It’s because you’re injured again. And you decided to lie into his face about it.
“What is this?”
Your husband’s voice sounds as unpromising as you imagined it in this situation, eyes widen in horror while you’re still panting in agony.
Fuck. Your heart drops immediately by the sight of his blood smeared hand. Kento is an outstanding smart man, too clever to be considered an idiot by your actions.
“You promised me to stay safe. And that you lie to be about being injured...”
“(y/n), look at me”, he insists, grabbing your chin.
His eyes seem to stare right through your soul as he glances down at you, jaw tightened.
“I can’t believe you lied to me.”
“Only because you’d freak out”, you reply in your own defense.
“Like I should! I told you over and over to look out for yourself, to skip a few missions before you get seriously hurt. And what is that, huh?”
He points at your wounded leg, blood now soaking through the fabric of your skirt.
“You are severely injured. Just like I predicted.”
You feel like a child being scolded by her parents. Even though Kento never raises his voice at you aggressively, you can tell by the way his whole body tenses up and that glistening in his gaze that he’s absolutely furious.
“I am able to look after myself. I know what’s best for me”, you remark annoyed.
Fuck, you’re so damn tired. All you want is to bandage yourself up and go to sleep.
“Yes, I can see that.”
Something about his sarcastic tone and the way he stares down at you while shaking his head makes you snap.
“I’m a grown woman, I don’t need you to look after me like a damn child! Mind your own business, Kento!”
“You are my business. You are my wife. It’s my responsibility to take care of you!”, he barks back.
“But I don’t want you to take care of me, I want you to leave me alone!”, you spit into his face, making him drop his shoulders immediately.
God, you want to take that back straightaway, knowing damn well how your comment hurt his feelings. But at the moment, all you can think about is a warm bed and finally some rest.
You drag yourself into the bedroom and let your trembling body fall onto the mattress. This is not fair, right? After all, you aren’t a child anymore, you are able to look after yourself…right?
You close your eyes, the disappointed look on Kento’s face lingering through your mind. It wasn’t fair to snap at him, though. He is your husband, always caring about you. No, he certainly doesn’t deserve you to treat him like this.
Three soft knocks on the door.
“Can I come in?”, his damped voice questions.
“Sure”, you mumble.
You can’t even look at him when he enters the room in silence, elegant steps leading him to the bed where he sits down next to you. Suddenly, he begins to rip open a package of bandages, catching your attention.
“What are you doing?”
“I take care of you. May I?”
His gaze wanders to your skirt, eyes asking you for permission to pull it up.
“Sure…”, you mutter, a slight blush creeping up your face when his fingers brush over your panties.
“How did this happen?”, he asks softly while his skilled fingers remove the blood soaked bandage.
“I don’t know exactly. Wasn’t paying full attention and got hit by a curse.”
“I see.”
Despite all the things you said to him, despite the way you hurt him a few minutes ago, your man kneels in front of you and caresses your wound with so much affection that it doesn’t hurt at all. Your eyes wander over him, how his gaze is focused exclusively on your thigh, skilled fingers working wonders.
“I’m sorry for lashing out and not telling you”, you let out, not able to hold in your bad conscience any longer.
“I understand that I put you in an uncomfortable position when I threatened to talk to the elders about this and I’m very sorry for that. But it can’t go on like this, (y/n). This is the 5th serious injury within three weeks and I’m truly worried about you. I don’t want you to end like-“
He stops himself from finishing that sentence but oh you know exactly what he means and it shatters your heart. Without hesitation, your fingers grab his face gently, eyes locking with yours.
“I love you, Kento. And I see that you’re right. I’ll talk to the elders tomorrow myself about that”, you assure him.
A small but precious smile appears on his face, free hand caressing your cheek with so much affection that you have to hold back a tear.
“You’re my everything, sweetheart. Let’s stitch you up and go to bed.”
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probably-writing-x · 1 year
Text
Eyes On You
Summary: You were practically the princess of Outer Banks, everyone knew it. So, when you started dating Rafe Cameron, to say people had something to say about it would be an understatement. And there was only so much of it that the two of you could take.
Warnings: Some sexual references, cursing, Rafe being a protective bf
Author’s Note: Saw a tiktok about male book characters leaning against doorways and it inspired this entire story :) Enjoy and send in any requests you may have
Not my gif
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“Babe can you help me?” Rafe calls out to you from the bedroom, where you’re fixing up the last of your makeup, there’s a stress to his voice.
“What have you done?” You laugh, setting down your mascara and walking across to the bedroom.
He was stood in front of the mirror with his bowtie dangling around his neck, clearly having given up on the fight against it.
“I hate these things,” He grumbles, dragging a hand over his hair.
“Leave your hair alone,” You hit his hand away, “Come here.”
You fold the silky material pieces over themselves until it resembles the bow shape and fixing it in the centre of the top of his shirt.
Rafe lifts his hands up over yours and pulls both of them to his lips to kiss you, “What would I do without you?”
You hum with his contact as he laces his fingers with yours and squeezes your hands three times. The two of you hadn’t managed to get out of going to one of your family’s events - full of people that thought the world of themselves, and had enough money in the bank to act like they could prove it. Rafe, of course, would be by your side, as much as he hated these things too. It was all shaking hands and comments on how you were ‘too good for him’ - though your parents and their friends thought of you as too good for everyone. You’d picked out a pale blue suit for Rafe, one that brought out a brightness to his face, and you were wearing a navy dress that matched the dark blue of his bowtie.
“You look beautiful,” He comments, leaning down slowly to press a kiss to your lips, delicate as if he’s worried he’ll damage the art in front of him.
“Thanks babe,” You smile, fixing the messier strands of his hair, “Are you ready to go?”
“Am I ever?”
~~~
Inevitably, the two of you were late by the time you both walked in. There were people spilling all over the ballroom venue, faces you recognised from growing up amongst faces around others that your parents were likely trying to impress. Everyone that saw you greeted you warmly, telling you that you had grown up too fast. With each person that you had to force pleasantries with, Rafe could see you getting more and more tense. He was sure this kind of night was your idea of hell.
“I’ll go and get us some drinks, darling,” He mentions, placing a hand on your back, “What do you fancy?”
“Anything, I don’t mind,” You smile at him and he squeezes your hand before disappearing through the crowd.
You were in conversation with your old neighbours, who were telling you about a new holiday home they’d just bought, and you’d completely lost interest.
“So, you and Rafe are still together?” The woman asks, raising her brows just momentarily.
“Yeah, over a year now,” You smile, even the mention of his name making your stomach flip like it did when you’d first got together.
“Are you sure, honey?”
The question makes your heart sink, and you lose your words.
“I’m just not sure if he is the one for you,” She sighs, as if her words are said with good sentiment.
“I’m sorry?”
“We just want what is best for you,” She squeezes your arm and you pull away from her touch quickly.
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” You manage to force out, your eyes flicking across the room. You don’t find Rafe amongst the faces but you know you need to get away.
So often people tried to tell you that Rafe wasn’t enough for you, as if he were a boy damaged beyond repair and he would never be the boyfriend they expected you to have. They didn’t see the way he remembered all of the little details you told him, how he bought you flowers whenever he felt like it, how he made sure you knew he loved you every day. He was everything, even if they couldn’t see it.
~~~
Rafe was caught in conversation with two of the boys you’d gone to school with. They reminded him of himself from a few years ago, before he’d met you and before he’d changed. They spoke of nothing if they weren’t bragging, finding a way to mention their wealth or their status or their girls at every chance. The latter was their current topic.
“Listen, she was fit, but like nothing more than that,” One of them shakes his head, taking a long sip of his beer.
Rafe was hovering awkwardly between them, your champagne glass in his hand still waiting to be able to get it to you. He had to make a good impression at these things, he knew what they all thought of him otherwise.
“I mean, come on,” The boy scoffs, “I’m not tying myself down unless shes at least an eleven out of ten.”
Rafe is holding back a wince when the attention turns to him.
“Cameron, you still with (Y/N)?”
He pinches at the lobe of his ear, avoiding the anger that would normally course through him, “Yeah, yeah, still together,” He nods.
“Fuck, man, I don’t know how you do that shit,” One of the boys laughs, “One woman?”
“Oh, come on, this is Rafe Cameron, there’s no way he’s only fucking her.”
Rafe can’t do it for much longer, his grip tightens around the glass of champagne as if it was grounding him to you.
“Yeah, (Y/N)’s fit as fuck but she was always uptight in school, she’d never let anyone fuck her.”
Rafe sets the champagne glass down on the table, “Alright, fuck you,” He swings back his arm and launches a fist towards the jaw of the boy talking before anyone has a chance to stop him, before he can find any justification to not do it.
He pulls his hand away and the other boys scramble to their friend like a litter of lost puppies, pulling him up to stop him from stumbling over. Rafe shakes off his hand and picks up the champagne once again, directing himself towards the door before any of them can get a hand to him.
He pushes his way through a few more people until he gets to a clearing nearer the back of the room, where you were leaning against a doorframe, your back to him. Rafe comes up behind you, a hand over his head to grip the top of the doorframe as he towers over you from behind. You turn over your shoulder and instantly brighten at the sight of him.
“There you are!” You beam, a smile creasing the sides of your eyes.
“Here you go, m’lady,” He swings his arm around to bring the drink to you and you instantly notice the blotchy redness on his hand, the kind that is quickly turning into a bruise.
“Rafe, what happened?” You grip his hand gently before he can pull it away from you.
He sniffs and clears his throat, “Those assholes from your school.”
“Okay.”
He’s surprised at first, no anger in you for him getting into fights, no worry about the people he’s hit, no ‘please don’t do that again’.
“Okay?”
You hum and lean back a little into his chest, lifting the flute to your lips and finishing the glass.
“Alright who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?” He quips, bringing a hand up to massage into your shoulder.
“I hate it here,” You sigh, setting the glass down and leaning even further into him.
He rubs at your skin more, leaning down to press a kiss in the spot, his lips lingering before he perches his chin on top of your shoulder, “Do you want to get out of here?”
You nod, turning your head to kiss his temple, the sort of contact that makes him smile like a boy with his first crush.
“Let’s go home,” He drops his hand to lace his fingers with yours, the other hand falling to the bottom of your spine to guide you through the crowd.
“Wait a second,” You mention quickly, ducking out of his grip when you spot a waiter carrying a fresh bottle of champagne across the room of people.
You swipe it from him, spilling some of the golden liquid over your hand, hurrying back over to Rafe.
“What the-“ He laughs, looking at you with an admiration in his eyes that he never lost.
You grab his hand tightly in yours and pull him through the crowd, both of you pushing past bodies like they weren’t even there. You know they’re all looking at you, like you were the King and Queen’s princess, looking at Rafe as if he were the boy that corrupted you. But you don’t care. His hand is in yours and there’s enough adrenaline pacing through your veins for you to just keep running with him.
When the two of you break through to the outside, Rafe spins you into his arms, wrapping his grip around your waist and pulling you into him. You’re both breathless, a wildness to your eyes as if you were two escaped convicts. He brings a hand up and cups your cheek, kissing you with pressure like he’s forcing you to remember that he loves you. That, in that moment, he doesn’t think he’s ever loved you more.
And as much as all of those guests’ eyes had seemed to be burning into you all night, there was nothing else that mattered when Rafe’s eyes were on you, telling you everything that his words never could.
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zorosleftshoe · 3 months
Text
Cherry Pie - (c.b)
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Warnings: swearing (as usual 🙄), angst (slight enemies to lovers), SMUT, p in v, unprotected
Pairing: Colby Brock x Reader
“Did you really have to bring her?” Colby’s voice filled the room as his tone reeked with venom. It had only been thirty seconds and I already wanted to deck him. Once for the way he spoke of me like I wasn’t in the room and two, for the way his tongue poking out to wet his lips made my knees buckle.
“Just be civil, yeah?” Sam sighed in defeat as he plopped down on the couch next to Nate who was tuning his guitar.
“I have no issue being civil. It’s cavemen like him that have an issue.” Colby scoffed at my words before turning his gaze to the cryptic show that played on the all too big television. “Anyways, I thought you said we were going to the boardwalk.” Sam’s eyes met mine momentarily before shifting towards the floor guiltily.
“We were but Colby said he needed help editing our video.” His voiced trailed off as the realization set in that I had been bested. “Before you go thinking I tricked you, I didn’t. I still fully intend to keep my word. I just need to finish up our video before we head there. Is that okay?” Sam’s eyes are pleading and I can’t help but sigh in acceptance.
“Sure. But if I have to stay in this room with him any longer I may puke on your pretty carpet.” Colby scoffed once more before rising to his feet and closing the distance between us.
“You think you’re hot shit?” His baby blues stare me down as he towers over me. “I have yet to figure out why Sam keeps you around. My only theory is that you’re just a body for him but even he wouldn’t stoop that low.” Colby’s words are harsh as he spews them at me. “You come into my house trying to berate me when you’re the problem.” Nate pushes his guitar to the side, preparing himself to jump in if things get out of hand as Sam has already risen to his feet. “You think I don’t know why you’re friends with him? You want a piece of the fame. You want all the perks that come with knowing Sam and Colby. Well I’ve got news for ya, sweetheart. We’re not your bank. You don’t get to throw our names out there to gain a few extra dollars.” Sam places a shaky hand on Colby’s chest and presses him further away from me. He staggers a bit but his eyes never leave my own. His canines practically on display as he audibly growls at me.
“I don’t need you to boost my ratings. I’m doing just fine on my own and if Sam chooses to be in my videos because I ask him to,” I pause looking at Sam who is masked with a pained expression. “Who can say no any time he chooses, mind you. That’s up to him. I would never use someone like that.” Colby rolls his eyes before pushing Sam’s hand away from him.
“Whatever. Do what you want. Just don’t make a mess.” Colby stalks out of the room taking his laptop with him and leaving the three of us to stare at one another as the silence becomes deafening.
“Well that was-“ Sam cuts Nate off with a swift kick to the shin and he groans.
“I told you to be civil.” Sam’s eyes are anything but accusing as the words fall from his lips. He knows I had only retaliated in self defense as Colby had backed me into a corner. “I don’t know why you two can’t just get along.” I take a seat next to Sam and pat his back in a friendly manner.
“Would you like for me to go apologize?” He shakes his head and my shoulders relax at the thought of not having another interaction with Colby.
“That would just start another world war three and I can’t deal with the headache. I still have to finish the editing.” Sam groans before collapsing against the back of the couch and covering his eyes with his forearm. “Colby has my laptop charger.” With a heavy sigh, I rise to my feet and dust off my all too tight black shorts.
“I will ask him for it, okay? I’ll apologize for the whole fiasco and have a talk with him.” Sam’s face shifts as worry glosses over his delicate features. “It’ll be fine.” At this point I’m not sure if I’m trying to reassure Sam or myself. “It’s just Colby.” The stairs seemed to grow longer with each step I took towards what I could only consider impending doom.
It wasn’t that I hated Colby. If anything, I felt complete indifference towards him, given he had quickly shut me down and left me wondering what I had done wrong after our first meeting.
Colby’s door was shut and I couldn’t help but feel myself inch backwards towards the stairs. This was a stupid idea. With a heavy sigh I find myself rapping my knuckles against the wood of his door. In the distance there’s a soft groan before footsteps. The door opens and Colby’s head peaks through the small opening he has allowed. His eyes widen as he drinks in my figure standing before him.
“What the hell do you want?” I can feel my blood already beginning to boil at his words but I suppress what I’m feeling for Sam’s sake.
“Sam needs his charger.” He grunts before going to move away but I’m quick to reach out and lightly touch his hand that is still rested against the door. “I also wanted to apologize.” Colby’s eyebrows raise in what I can only assume is confusion.
“Why the hell would you do that?” I cock my head slightly and he shakes his head before opening the door enough for me to squeeze through. “I thought this was our thing?”
“Huh?”
“Hating each other? I thought that was our thing?” He asks scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.
“I never said I hated you. In fact, I never said anything about how I felt about you.” I pause fiddling with a loose hem on the bottom of my shirt. “You would say all these harsh things and I felt like I had no choice but to retaliate. Eye for an eye type of thing.” Colby scoffs before settling beside me on his bed.
“If it means anything now, I never hated you either.” His words are much softer now. Any anger that had lingered before has vanished and was replaced with a new feeling. “I only said that shit because,” he pauses then. His hands are clasped firmly in his lap and I notice how he picks at the skin of his thumb.
“Because?” He groans in frustration before covering his eyes with his hands.
“If you’d give me a damn minute I’d tell you.” His cheeks, now tinted pink, puff up before he looks at me. “Because I was protecting myself.” My eyebrows twitch up in confusion at his words. Protecting himself? “You came hurdling into my life like a fucking meteor and I didn’t know what to do. All of a sudden this beautiful girl is here and she’s so fucking hilarious. She has the same interest as me, she’s best friends with my best friend, and she’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” He pauses, glancing away from me, clearly embarrassed. “I hate the way you make me feel.” These words are whispered as if they are a secret he isn’t quite sure he’s ready to tell.
“And how do I make you feel?” By now, our bodies have subconsciously moved closer to the point our pinkies are dancing dangerously close to one another. Colby glances down at them but makes no attempt to move away from the subtle touch.
“Like a firework that’s about to explode.” His explanation is curt but his eyes are saying everything he’s unable to. “I’m not,” he pauses shifting his gaze. “I’m not good with words.” His timid eyes allow my own to soften. His hard exterior cracking, crumbling before me and letting vulnerability shine through.
“I think I know what you mean.” His cerulean eyes glazing over with a hint of something. Something quite unfamiliar. Something I had never seen in Colby before. “Every time I’m near you I feel this electricity.” I take a chance and glance down at our hands, gently nudging his pinky with my own. He gets the hint and allows me to interlock our fingers together. “I always thought it was anxiety.” I say softly using my free hand to fiddle with a loose string on my shorts.
Colby’s mouth opens and shuts with words that he wants to say but is holding back. His tongue pokes through his cherry red lips to wet them in a nervous tick I’d seen him do many times prior. The atmosphere changes as our eyes meet for the umpteenth time since I stepped into his cozy room and I find myself leaning closer into his space.
“What are you doing?” His words are rushed and I can tell from his demeanor he’s somewhat unsure of how to react to what’s happening. With a hint of a smirk resting on my face, I look up at him through thick eyelashes and watch as he visibly gulps at the sight.
“Something I should have done awhile ago.” He gasps as I lean forward and press my lips against his. His hands instinctively move from the bedsheets to rest against my hip and the side of my face, his thumb combing over my cheek in a loving way. My tongue traces his bottom lip to which he happily allows access.
His hand grips onto my right thigh before slinging it across his sitting form, forcing me to straddle him. He groans when I roll my hips against his growing erection.
“Colby?” He hums, his eyes meet mine and I notice how his pupils are blown wide and lust clouds over what was once a look of hatred. “Are you sure you want to do this? There’s no going back.” My hips are still rolling to meet his at a steady pace and it takes him a moment to collect himself enough to answer.
“You,” I huff as the clothing separating us grazes my clit in the most delicious way. “You are all I have wanted. I don’t want to go back.” Colby takes this as the only confirmation he needs and he viciously attacks my neck in open mouthed kisses. Biting, sucking, then smoothing his tongue over the overworked sensitive skin. Part of me wants to ask how he got so good at this, but his hands on my hips rocking me faster has my brain hazy.
“You know I would think about you?” His words are raspy and spread out as his lips trail over my exposed collarbone. “At night when I was alone.” His teeth nick at the base of my neck and I whimper in compliance. “Can’t imagine how good you’ll feel instead of my hand.” He moves the hand that had been resting tightly in my hair, holding me steady, between our bodies and pops open the button of my shorts. “Although you look so fucking hot in these, I’d rather see you without them.” He helps me shimmy the unwanted fabric from my body and I watch in awe as he eyes the red lace that rests against my skin. A hint of a smirk on his face. “Oh, baby.” He coos. “Don’t tell me you wore these for Sam.” I shake my head and his smirk grows. “For me?”
“Always for you.” His cold fingers trail down the cotton of my shirt before reaching the hem and nudging it upwards. I comply and pull it over my head before locking my fingers in his brown locks.
“Always for me? After this you may not get rid of me.” He pauses looking up into my lovestruck eyes. “You okay with that?” I lean forward and press my lips against his. Unlike before, this kiss is all skin and teeth. He groans when I roll my hips to gain some much wanted friction. “So impatient.” He says pulling away for some air. His ring clad hand slips between us and disappears passed the waistband of my shorts. He uses his index finger to stimulate the small bud of nerves before trailing down my slit to my core eliciting a breathy moan from my lips.
“Huh?” His touch fades as he moves his hand up to his lips and sucks on his newly coated finger. “Why’d you stop?” He smirks at the urgency in my tone.
“Sweeter than cherry pie, baby girl.” He lightly tosses me onto the bed from where I had been on his lap before he’s on top of me and his lips smashed against mine. This kiss is all skin and teeth as he presses his body down against mine. Breathy moans fill the room around us as the tension grows stronger till it feels like a rubber band that has been stretched too far.
“I’m ready, Colby.” He pulls away before trailing sloppy open mouthed kisses down my jaw to the base of my neck where he nips lightly at my collar bone.
“Let me just grab-“ he goes to reach for his dresser but I lightly take his hand in mine.
“It’s okay.” He visibly gulps at the two words that leave my swollen lips. He then reaches down to tug off his sweatpants with my shorts and panties following suit.
“Are you sure?” I nod, watching as he aligns himself with my entrance. He thrust forward, enough to bully his tip into my core before he lets out a soft groan. “Can I keep going?” The stretch burns slightly but I nod. He pushes deeper until he’s bottomed out. “Feel so good.”
“Okay, it’s okay. You can move.” I squeeze his shoulder gently watching his blue eyes that are now full of another emotion. His thrusts start slow, his cock dragging along my walls in a way that has me clinging to his shoulders to ground myself. He continued to thrust into me, finally finding a rhythm that allowed him to reach that one spot no one else ever had. I let out a whiny moan but he’s quick to cover my mouth.
“Is that the spot, baby?” Tears begin to pool onto my lashes as he continues driving his hips at this fast pace he has set. Within seconds my walls are clamping around him as my eyes roll back in pure bliss. “That’s it, such a good girl.” His thrusts turn sloppy and soon he’s coming undone with soft grunts and groans in my ear. When his blue eyes meet mine he smiles softly before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.
“I should probably get back to Sam and Nate.” I say as I trace his hand that entwined with mine.
“Yeah. I’m surprised they didn’t send out a search party.” I rest my chin on his chest and he kisses the tip of my nose. “You sure you won’t want to stay?”
“You could always come with us.” Colby pretends to think for a moment before playfully pushing me away and grabbing his pants.
“How about this?” My eyebrows raise, my interests piqued in whatever in could possibly be ready to say. “You follow through with your plans you got with them.” He kneels next to the bed and raises his hand to brush loose strands of hair out of my face. “Then when you get back, I take you on our first date.” My eyes light up at his counteroffer.
“You mean it?” He nods and watches with a childlike giddiness as I rush to get ready. Just as I’m about to leave his room, I turn on my heels to race over and peck his lips once more before bounding downstairs into the living room where the two boys are sitting. I plop down between them and Sam eyes me suspiciously.
“Everything okay?” I hum in response. “Really? Did he take the apology well?” I hum once more. “Seems like. Hey,” Sam pauses and catches my gaze. “Did you grab my charger?” A shit eating smirk shadows his face and I playfully punch his shoulder.
“How’d you know?” I ask as my face heats up in embarrassment.
“You have a tell.” He shrugs nonchalantly before going to stand up. “Oh, and you also have a big ass hickey on your neck.” I choke on my spit at his words before looking up at him, entirely mortified. He laughs before disappearing to the second floor.
“Damn.” Nate’s voice suddenly fills the silent room. I turn to him with my eyebrows raised. “How the FUCK did you manage to get laid before me?” Like a few seconds prior, I pull back my fist and punch him in the shoulder. He groans in pain and grabs his arm dramatically.
“I got laid in high school you prick! This is different.” He shakes his head and goes back to tuning his guitar. A blush creeps onto my cheeks as I think about how soft Colby’s lips were. How right it felt being in his arms after how long I had waited.
Then again, he had been waiting too.
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eagerbby · 2 years
Text
only you | e.m.
pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader
synopsis| You and Eddie were never meant to be just friends.
an| written in a world where Eddie was never accused, never died, and more importantly, finally graduated. not very canon, billy’s still alive and briefly mentioned. this was a quick break from a fix-it fic I’m currently writing and very much inspired by the song touch tank by quinnie. it’s eddies song and i’ll die on this hill.
warnings| oral (female receiving), PnV (protected), Eddie running his mouth, thats a warning in itself, 18+ only
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[June 9, 1986]
The pitiless Indiana sun hung high in the cerulean sky, its uv-rays biting at your bare skin. The cool pool water lapping over your legs every time Eddie moved was the only relief at the moment.
“Have you ever been in the ocean?” He asked lazily, his long fingers flicking water across your bare thighs. The two of you lay opposite each other in the barely six foot wide and three foot deep blow up pool set up next to his front porch. Your feet floated next to his shoulders, grazing the freckled pale skin there every time he shifted or turned. Meanwhile, tall and gangly Eddie had his head propped up on the blue polyvinyl rim, his own feet hung over the side next to your head. He had bitched and moaned once the two of you had finally finished setting it up, “I don’t even fit all the way.” He’d complained. “Why’d you buy a damn kiddie pool?”
You had laughed at him, his pale body laying stick straight in the cool water in only a pair of plaid blue boxers. You had begged him to let you buy him a pair of swim shorts but he had refused.
“It’s just you and me, it’s not like you haven’t seen my boxers all over my bedroom floor.”
“Yeah, but what if you go to the public pool? You’ll need them then.”
“Ha. Not likely you’ll ever see Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson at the public pool. The parent’s would probably gather pitchforks and torches and hang me at the gallows.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Eds.”
“M’not. And anyway, I don’t like swimming, I’m only doing this for you.”
“My parents used to take my little brother and I to the Outer Banks when we were younger. We’d go every summer, swim in the ocean or walk the dunes to the lighthouse.” You opened your eyes to look at him only to find he’s already watching you speak, his deep brown eyes hidden behind the lens of his aviator sunglasses. His hair is almost dry now except for the ringlets that float atop his shoulders in the water. “You should probably take those sunglasses off before you get too much sun on your face. Gonna get a weird ass tan line from them.”
He does as you tell him, taking them off and tossing them onto the porch. “I’ve never been.” He said. “The ocean scares the fuck outta me. All that never ending water. Do you ever think about how many bodies are in the ocean? Lost to the dark depths of the sea.”
You sat up at his words, a perplexed look on your face as you stared at him. “Well that’s fucking morbid. Jesus Christ, Eddie.”
He only shrugged in his usual unbothered way, his knuckles grazing the skin of your thigh beneath the rippling water.
“You’ve never thought about it before?” He asked.
“Not really, no. I guess I blocked the thought from my mind. I love swimming in the ocean.”
“You love swimming with dead bodies. Got it.”
You splashed him at this, laughing as the small tidal wave blasted him. The shock of the cold water hitting his warm skin caused him to shoot up, water dripping down his face as he wrestled you backwards into the water. You squealed when he grabbed your shoulders, his hand holding the back of your neck as he dunked you. The gurgle of the water echoed your laugh and as he pulled you back up you spit a fountain of water right into his face.
“Who would have ever imagined that you, The Princess of Hawkins high and valediction, was such a freak.”
“I graduated two years ago, Eddie! Now I’m just the queen of folding panties at Starcourt mall, and failing my English lit course.”
You watched Eddie’s expression shift at the word panties, your best friend's eyes now slightly wider, his grip on the back of your neck a little harder. He was so close to you, sitting on his knees in the small pool, completely leaned over your body. You didn’t see him shirtless often and you had never seen him shirtless and so close. If you reached up you could trace the dark ink of his tattoo that sat just beneath his collarbone. Scratch your fingers against the small splattering of hair on his sternum. That strange feeling stirred in your stomach, the same one you’d been getting for a couple months now. You didn’t understand it and what made it worse was that Eddie, your best friend, was the sole cause of it.
You felt it for the first time after Eddie had fallen asleep during your weekly movie night. His head was laying on the pillow in your lap, you hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen asleep until you heard him softly snore. He’d had a bad day at school, Jason Carver and his cronies spray painting ‘Freak’ in bright red letters across the windshield of his van. When you got to his trailer later that day you found him sitting on the hood of the van with a razor blade, slowly scraping the still wet paint from the glass. You had tried helping him but he only waved you off, telling you it was fine. But his eyes were red rimmed and glassy like he’d been crying. You wanted to kill those stupid jocks, which you voiced with indignation. But Eddie had only shook his head. He wasn’t a fighter despite what the whole town thought. He just didn’t have it in him.
“Lets go.” You said softly, your hand holding onto his forearm as you looked up at him.
“What?”
“To the ocean. Let’s go to the ocean, Eddie.” It was only a whisper as it passed your lips, your eyes searching his face. His furrowed eyebrows made him appear confused, but there was something else swimming in the chocolate brown of his iris’.
“What are you talking about, Crazy?” He lazily dragged you to sit up as he shifted from his knees to stretch his long legs out in front of himself. You waited for him to get comfortable before bouncing up onto your own knees, your fingers excitedly grabbing the wet fabric of his boxers on his leg. You don’t notice his cheeks flush as his eyes quickly flashed down to your hands and back up to your eyes.
“You, Eddie Munson, are a high school graduate now. You have a whole summer before you have to start thinking about what's next! And I have some vacation time and a shoebox full of savings from the past two years.” You rambled, your smile so wide it hurts your cheeks. “We could take your van, o-or my car, and we could drive to the Outer Banks. Rent a motel and just have fun.”
“Y-you want to waste two years worth of savings to go to the beach?”
“It wouldn’t be a waste, Eddie! It’d be… well it’d be like an adventure.”
He was silent, looking away from you, his eyes scanning the quiet trailer park. Your shoulders dropped a little when you realized he didn’t share the same excitement as you. He had an entire summer to do whatever he wanted, why would he want to spend it with you driving to somewhere he’s never been.
He doesn’t even like the ocean, you idiot.
“Forget it. It’s stupid.” He jumped a little as you suddenly stood up, rivets of water rushing down the expanse of your body. You’ve stepped one foot out of the pool before he’s grabbing your wrist softly.
“Hey, where are you going?” He asked gently, his eyes wide like he’d just gotten into trouble.
“Inside to change. I think I got too much sun.” You shook your arm until his hand slipped from your wrist, falling back into the water with a splash. You snatched your towel from the rickety lawn chair and escaped into his trailer, ignoring him calling your name. You grabbed your bookbag from the couch and all but ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind you with shaking hands.
You felt so fucking stupid. You already spent eighty percent of your time with him, practically attached at the hip as his freshman friend Dustin had pointed out, how could you think he’d want to spend even more time with you. Especially somewhere far from home. For fucks sake, he hadn’t even looked at you as you went on and on about it. He was too nice to tell you it was a stupid idea. The way he stared off, probably thinking of how to let you down gently, was all the answer you needed.
In hindsight, it probably wasn’t that good of an idea. You weren’t known for your extraordinary planning skills and both of your vehicles were pieces of shit. In fact the likelihood of making it across the Indiana border just to break down in some podunk town was terribly high. The thought of spending the rest of your money getting the car fixed just to turn around and go right back home, broke and without ever seeing the damn beach, made you a little nauseous. Because that would be your luck.
A knock at the bathroom door made you jump. "Hey, you okay in there?" Eddie, voice peppered with concern. You tossed your bathing suit in the sink and turned the shower on.
"I gotta wash my hair, be out in a minute." You yelled back at the door before stepping into the shower stall, the hot water easing the tension from your muscles.
You didn't want him to think you were upset so you hurried through your shower, using his old spice to wash your body and his shampoo and conditioner that smelled of citrus in your hair. It was a distinct smell, one that was all him, and it made your stomach whirl once again. Your crush on him was starting to become a nuisance.
Once you were clean and dried off, dressed in his Iron Maiden shirt you stole from his drawer a couple weeks ago and a pair of black jean shorts that were frayed at the ends, you slowly cracked the door open, peering out towards the living room slash kitchen in search for a puff of raven curls.
He wasn’t there, so instead you followed the sound of Ozzy Osborne down the hall and into Eddie’s messy bedroom.
He was in his bed, back propped up against the headboard and rolling a joint with idle fingers. He was still shirtless but with a pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, the band of his now white boxers resting against his dark happy trail. A wildfire blazed in your stomach at the sight and you couldn’t help but clamp your thighs together.
Does he not realize how unbearably hot he is?
He didn’t, actually, which was why seeing him like this all laid out with his chest bare and that smattering of hair that led down his abdomen and under his pants made your mouth so dry your tongue felt like it weighed 110 pounds and your hands so clammy you had to wipe them against your shorts. You cleared your throat in an attempt to subdue your racing thoughts and took a seat on the edge of his bed, body turned towards him watching him roll with ease.
He looked up with a smile when he felt your weight dip into the mattress. “Are you feeling any bette-'' He paused, glaring at the long haired zombie on your shirt. His shirt. “Is that my fucking shirt?”
You glanced down and back up, imitating the causal shrug he always gave you.
“Maybe.” You deadpanned. Eddie spluttered.
“Maybe? Who else do you know listens to Iron fucking Maiden?”  
“I know people.”
“You know people?”
“A couple.”
Eddie’s eyes suddenly narrowed, a quiet disapproval in those deep brown eyes of his.
“Billy Hargrove?” He asked with a grating timbre in his voice you’d never heard before. He’d tossed the joint down into the ashtray and got off the bed, standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest.
“B- What?” You’re so exasperated you can’t even form a sentence. “Billy Hargrove? What?”
“It’s him right? I know you used to hangout with him. He’s totally not an Iron Maiden fan, by the way. He definitely listens to Foreigner and cries in his piece of shit Camaro.”  
“Hey! Don’t talk bad about Foreigner, I love them.” You stood up from the bed with your hands on your hips. “He’s a Guns N’ Roses guy anyways; completely idolizes Axel Rose.”
“Oh. Okay. So Billy Hargrove likes Guns N’ Roses and groupies for Axel Rose. Amazing.”
“I don’t hang out with Billy Hargrove, Eddie. Not like that, anyways.”
His nostrils flared and he nodded. “But you do hang out.”
“Maybe once or twice, I guess?” Your voice forms a question. You didn’t consider having a couple of the same friends and being at parties the other is at as ‘hanging out’. “What- What is this, Eddie? Why are you freaking out over Billy?”
“I’m not.” He said, blinking a couple times like he was trying to snap out of something. He leaned over your shoulder and grabbed the joint out the ashtray, lit it, and walked over to his cluttered table to search through a milk crate full of records. “Just figured the people you were talking about was him, s’all.”
“Eddie,” You said, coming up beside him to grab his wrist. He froze, his hands stopping their furious flipping of records, but his gaze stayed low. “I was fucking around, Eddie.”
“Fucking around?’
“Yes, Eddie. I was just joking.”
He turned to you at your words, staring dead into your eyes. The intensity of his stare made your heart stutter. “Were you trying to make me jealous?”
“Jealous? Wh- Eddie what the fuck are you talking about.”
There was a pregnant pause. Just you and Eddie staring into each other's eyes. Why would you want to make him jealous? You didn’t even know that was an option. You and Eddie were friends. Best friends. Friends don’t get jealous of their friends hanging out with other people. And Billy Hargrove? You had no idea where he pulled that one from. Not once had you ever even mentioned his name around Eddie. There was nothing worth mentioning. You thought Billy was stuck up and an absolute douchebag. Was he nice to look at? Sure. But you were nearly positive his heart was black with hatred and you believed being pretty meant nothing if your personality was shit.
“Uh, Eddie? Are you jealous?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes, instead he was flickering his gaze to anywhere but your face. “Eddie?”
“Would you hate me if I said yes?” He trailed his question off, biting at the skin on his lips as he waited for a response.
“I could never hate you, Eddie. You’re my best friend.”
He rolled his eyes. He rolled his fucking eyes. “Your best friend, right.” He said through a cloud of smoke. You snatched the joint sitting pretty between his fingers and dropped it in his other ashtray, the glass one shaped like a skull.
“Why are you saying it like that? You are my best friend.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be.” He said defiantly and your throat felt like it was going to close and your eyes burned from the prickle of your unshed tears welling in your eyes. He didn't want to be your best friend. Those words made you want to crawl into your body, to somehow vanish into thin air. Not too long ago you two were laughing together in the pool, discussing Steve Harrington's newest girl drama which was all supplied to you by Dustin Henderson. The night before you two made shitty Jiffy Pop while blazed out of your minds and sang karaoke so loud his neighbors came banging on the door, furious.
But now he didn’t want to be friends.
“Is this because I asked you to go on a roadtrip with me?” Your voice wavered and your chin started to tremble. “I know it was a bad idea.”
He strangely looked befuddled. “W-what? No. No, it’s not tha-”
“Well then what did I do?” You whined, tossing your hands about, unsure of what to do or what to say. What to think.
“You didn’t do-” He cut himself off, frustrated with his inability to explain himself. He looked at you, saw the tremble in your chin and shook his head. “You know what, fuck it.”
As soon as the words left his mouth he was surging forward, grasping your face in his hands, and pulling you towards him. His lips met yours with so much force you gasped, hands clutching his hips for purchase. You couldn’t form a single thought as you stood there, eyes squeezed shut, your chest so tight you couldn’t breathe. But then his hand smoothed over your cheek and grasped the back of your neck, his fingernails scraping over the sensitive skin there, and you finally kissed him back. Eddie moaned. The sound so loud it vibrated through your mouth and straight to the core of your being.
You kissed him with every ounce of power you had. Kissed him like you had daydreamed about so many times before as you watched him roll, or play guitar, or sing along to the radio as he drummed against the steering wheel. You kissed him for everytime he smiled and you felt your heart skip a beat. For every time he hugged you just because you looked like you needed one. For every smile he’d ever graced you with. You kissed him like you’d never kissed anyone before in your life, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from a different point of view, but it felt perfect.
Eddie pulled away first, gasping for air in the crook of your neck, his body practically folded into you. “Fuck,” he drew out the word long enough to make you giggle, drunk off his lips.
“Eddie.” You soothed, combing your fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you wanna be my friend?”
He raised to his full height at your question. “Best friends can’t kiss like that.” He’s so out of breath, his words merely a whisper as he continued. “And every goddamn time I look at you all I wanna do is kiss your pretty fucking mouth.”
He left you speechless, looking up into his big brown eyes that you loved so much. He lets you take a second, think on it, all the while stroking his thumb across your cheek.
“How long?” Is all you can ask.
“Shit, since fucking middle school, baby.” He blushed as he said it, the pretty pink darkening to a cherry red as he watched your eyes widen in surprise.
“Middle school?” You whispered.
“I always have. But in middle school you showed up to the snowball in that cute purple dress with your hair all big and your makeup maybe a little too grown for a 12 year old and all I could think about was walking over and asking you to dance. Shit, I wanted to kiss your cheek so fucking bad.” You laughed at the way he scrunched his nose at the last part. You remembered middle school Eddie, his buzzed head and those horrible army green bell bottoms that he’d ripped up to look cool. You liked that Eddie as much as you liked this one, even back then.
“Why didn’t you?” You asked as you pushed up against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist. In this position he had to look down his nose at you, his dark lashes fluttering across his cheeks.
“You were you and I was the freak.”
“I never thought that about you, Eddie.”
He sighed, kissing your forehead. “I didn’t know that then, baby.”
“Should have asked.” You teased, planting a kiss on his chest when he tried to act offended.
You two stood like that for a while, just wrapped up in each other, testing the waters of this new dynamic. One where you both knew where you stood with each other.
“I’m sorry I upset you earlier, you uh- you kinda surprised me.” He spoke into the crown of your head.
“It was a stupid idea, anyway.”
“No it’s not. I wanna go. I just don’t want to spend all your money doing it. Give me a couple months to save up and we can go.”
“I don’t care about the money, Eds.” You said as you took your head off his chest and gazed up at him.
“I know. Just give me a couple months, okay.”
“Okay, Eddie.”
Silence fell over the two of you. Eddie started swaying to the music at some point, humming along to a Black Sabbath song that was definitely not slow dance material. You kissed the tattoo on his chest as you swayed, looking up at him with your best version of puppy dog eyes.
“Hey, Eddie?” You asked softly. He hummed against you, kissing your forehead as he waited for you to finish your question. “Can you kiss me again?”  
~~
“Did you use my shampoo?”
Eddie’s voice raised up from the crease of your neck, a hint of amusement in his words. He had you laid out on his bed, slowly working kisses across your body. What had started as a soft little makeout session bloomed into something more when you had drug your nails up his spine the moment he found that sweet spot just behind your ear.
“Mhm.” You were too distracted to answer, focusing on the feel of his tongue laving against your neck and the way his hips shuddered against your clothed pussy every time you dug your nails into his skin.
“I like when you smell like me.” He mused. “Makes me feel like you’re mine.”
“M’yours, Eddie.” You whispered, guiding his face up to look at him. His lips were puffy and tinted red from sucking hickeys against your throat and his eyes were wide, searching your face for honesty.
“Promise?” He said after a quiet couple seconds and you nodded, leaning your head up to kiss the tip of his nose and the corner of his mouth.
“Promise.”
Eddie’s smile lit up his entire face, all dimpled and pink cheeked. It made your heart swell.
“Can I taste you?”
He asked in such a polite way, it caught you off guard. You couldn’t remember ever having a guy ask to eat you out. It was always something you hinted at and they brushed aside. One guy had even told you that eating a girl out made him soft and in the same breath forced your head down on his dick. But here was Eddie, looking at you so expectantly and yet so patiently.
“Yeah.”
Eddie didn’t waste a second getting to his knees on the mattress, fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts as he mumbled to himself. “Oh shit, okay. Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long, you don’t even understand. Pretty baby. So fucking pretty.”
You helped him shimmy the black fabric from your legs, Eddie tossing them over his shoulder with such force they knocked his acoustic guitar, that sat across from the bed, off its stand. He paid no attention to the instruments sharp bellow as it hit the carpet, instead he was transfixed on your purple lace panties.
“Christ.” He breathed, his index and middle finger tracing up the wet spot that had been steadily growing from the moment he kissed you. “You’re so wet.”
“Because of you.” You keened, Eddie suddenly adding more force in his stroking right against your clit. He flashed his eyes up to yours.
“Yeah?”
You nodded.
“Shit, I never thought I’d hear you say that outside of my dreams.” He seems to lose himself in his heavy caressing while you grip his sheets so hard your knuckles turn white.
“Eddie, please.” You couldn’t stop the whine that escaped your lips, dipping your fingers under the band of your panties and impatiently trying to take them off.
Eddie chuckled to himself as he watched you struggle. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you baby. Calm down.” He gave your panties the same treatment, peeling them down your thighs and tossing them over his shoulder. He bit his lip as he lowered his stomach to the bed, face to face with your weeping core. “So eager to be on my tongue, huh. Who woulda thought you’d be sobbing at the thought of me, The Freak, licking your sweet little pussy.”
“Eddie,” You were so touch starved, so desperate to feel his mouth on you, that you thought you might actually cry if he didn’t do something. “Shut the fuck up, please. Please. Just… Oh, Eddie, please.”
“Mm, okay.”
The second his warm tongue hit you, you cried out. Hands fumbling for purchase and finding it in his dark brown hair. You gripped the strands at the roots hard enough to hurt but Eddie only moaned and tightened his grip on your thighs, pulling them open even further to sink his tongue as far into your pussy as he could. His nose brushed against your swollen clit with each delve of his tongue, the muscle exploring every inch of your sensitive pussy. You trained your eyes on his nicotine stained ceiling, trying so hard to push back the fire rising in your stomach. You’d never felt anything like it before.
“That feels so fucking good, Eddie.” You loosened your grip on him to pet at his hair, unsure if it was to praise him or soothe yourself. Peeling your eyes from the ceiling you cast your hazy stare down only to find his big brown eyes watching you from between your thighs, mouth latched around your sensitive clit as he alternated from gentle sucks to fast flicks of his tongue. Your thighs burned as you rocked your hips against his face, fucking into his mouth for more friction, hands shaking against his cheeks. He looked so unbelievably pretty staring up at you with so much fondness and lust in his eyes, his mouth and tongue completely ravishing you like no man ever had before.. So you tell him…
“You’re so pretty like this, Eddie. You- oh fuuck- you’re always so pretty b-but-” You let out a wanton cry as Eddie slipped two fingers into your achy cunt. He finds that spot inside you that whitens your eyesight almost immediately, like he knew exactly where it was. Between his fingers and his devilish tongue you were seeing stars, tears slipping freely at how extreme the sensation was. “Oh god, Eddie. Eddie, I’m- I’m gonna-” You couldn’t even fucking speak anymore.
Eddie acknowledged you with a shuddering groan, quickening his movements to drive you over the precipice. His eyes never once leave your face.  
You came with a small scream, hips arched off the bed, your fingernails leaving crescent moons into the skin of his wrist. The feeling was all consuming, overwhelming in all the best ways. You let out a sob as he eased you through it, rubbing your thighs comfortingly as they shook with fervor around his head. You could hear yourself speaking but it was muffled by the roaring in your ears; it sounded like you were speaking in tongues. Eddie heard every word.
“Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. Don’t stop, baby. Never fucking stop. So good, s-so fucking good. You’re so fucking good, Eddie. Oh my god, I love you.”
Eddie kissed your thighs as your orgasm faded, your burning lungs gasping for air. When you could finally breathe again, he left one last lingering kiss before crawling up your body. You held his face with shaking hands when he reached you, the biggest shit eating grin on his cum soaked face.
“You love me, huh?” He pondered with a fleeting kiss to your lips. “Or do you just love the way I eat your pussy?”
“Both you fucking deviant. Both.” Each inhale rattled in your chest and every exhale burned the lining of your throat. Eddie chuckled as he kissed you again, pressing his hard cock against your still sensitive core.
“Who knew you were a fucking screamer, baby.”
“I could tell you that was all you but then you’d fucking gloat about it for the rest of eternity.”
“Still might.” He hummed, ghosting kisses over your eyes and nose and lips. “You look so fucking hot when you cum. Never seen anything like it. Coulda cum right then and there but I wanna be inside you.”
You reached a hand between your bodies, running a heavy finger over the outline of his cock in his sweats. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, still a little breathless.
Eddie nodded excitedly before bounding up from the bed and over to his dresser. He rifled through it aggressively. Cursing here and there as he tossed socks and a random cassette tape onto the floor in his frenzied search. When he finally finds what he was looking for he exclaimed to himself, “Fucking finally.”.
He leaves the mess he made, struggling to pull his sweats and boxers off as he makes his way back over to you, sprawled out and butt naked in his bed. Once he finally gets there, after narrowly avoiding tripping over his own boots on the floor, he crawls on top of you with the aluminum wrapper between his teeth. You watched with bated breath as he ripped it open, rolling it down the dark pink head of his cock. Once he’s done he positioned himself in the apex of your thighs, fisting his cock and smoothing the latex covered head through your slick covered folds.
“I, uh, I’m probably not gonna last that long.” He said, his eyes downcast, watching the way your hips rutted into him with every swipe of his cock.
“It’s okay, Eds. Just fuck me.” You grabbed his chin, forcing his face up. When your eyes met you smiled at him sweetly and added, “Please.”
Eddie wasted no time pressing into you, his thick cock stretching you wide as he bottomed out inside you. His cheeks were flamed pink, a bead of sweat bleeding from his hairline down the curve of his nose. He pulled out gently and plunged back in, the tip of his tongue poking through his teeth as he concentrated on his slow deliberate thrusts. You dug your heels into the backs of his thighs, hoping he'd get the hint to go faster. Harder. The slow drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you was agonizing. But he only ignored your pressing and not so subtle whines, folding himself over top of you with one arm wrapped around your back and a callused hand holding your cheek. He was being so gentle. It wasn’t something you were used to. Every other guy you’d been with just used you to get off as fast as they could. But Eddie was taking his time, having found a pace that kept you needing more. You found yourself giggling at a particularly languid thrust and Eddie’s round eyes, with his pupils completely blown black, shot up to yours.
“What’s so funny?” He asked, stilling himself inside of you.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…” You giggled again and his eyes narrowed. “I just thought, who would have imagined you to be such a gentle lover. You know, with your bad boy–heavy metal image and all.”
“Don’t forget local drug dealer and devil worshiper.” His smile cracked wide as you giggled again. That giggle, however, turned into a sharp cry with a snap of his hips. “I can be gentle. When I want to be.”
You could only nod at this, your breath lodged in your throat at another hard snap of his hips. Your comment had urged him to go faster. To show you that, yes, he could be gentle. But he could also fuck you senseless.
“Imagine what they’d think of you, baby.” He whispered into your ear, forehead pressed hard to the side of your head, his hips building into a maddening pace. He had thrown your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper, to hit that spot inside your core that brought tears to your eyes. “You were always such a good girl. Hawkins number one girl. Do you even remember what they said when they found out we were friends?”
You shook your head, unable to speak with how hard and deliberate his thrusts were.
“They said I was corrupting you.” He released a breathy, dark laugh. His hand slotting through the strands of your hair to grip the roots. “But they didn’t know that you sought me out, hm. Followed me to the woods just so we could be alone. Made me laugh. Made me feel special.”
You remembered that day. Remembered watching him walk through the tree line all alone, that black metal lunch pail gripped tightly in his hand. You knew what he was doing, skipping class to go smoke up. You’d seen him do it before. But that day you followed after him, nervously gripping the ruched fabric of your cheer skirt as you went. You couldn’t help yourself, You wanted to know him so badly.
“Everyday after that, you found me.” His thrusts were starting to get sloppy and you could tell in the way he held you, in the way his words doubled as moans, that he was getting close. “I tried so hard to keep you from getting too close. People are shunned for being close to me. But you wouldn’t fucking quit. Always so fucking stubborn. It’s like you couldn’t stay away from me.”
“I couldn’t.” You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hair tickled your cheeks, his breath fanning over your lips as he held himself over you now. His brows furrowed in concentration as his cock throbbed inside of you. You clenched at the sight of him, looking so pretty and so fucked, and all yours. Because he was. He was it for you.
“Ah, shit.” He whimpered. He wouldn’t last much longer, but Eddie being who Eddie was, you knew he was gonna talk the whole way through it. “You fucking- You broke down every fucking wall I’d ever built. Smashed right fucking through them and straight into my fucking heart. I-I wanted to be good for you. Good enough that you’d want me like I wanted you. You corrupted me.”
“E-Eddie, I think I’m gonna c-cum.” That burning heat had returned but it was different this time. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes. It thrummed every nerve like the string of a guitar, vibrating you to the bone.
“Good.” He said harshly, the word sounding almost mean falling from his red swollen lips, but the fingers stroking your face were still gentle. “I want you to scream for me again. I want everyone in this shitty trailer park, in this shitty fucking town, to know that I’m the one making you feel like this. Crying for my cock, desperate for me.”
You couldn’t handle it, couldn’t see through the tears falling, couldn’t feel anything but him and the white hot pleasure he was gifting to you. You were right there, so fucking close.
“I want them to know that you are mine.” Each word was punctuated with a hard, albeit sloppy, thrust and you came.
You came with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. You felt yourself clench down on him, hard, and his hips shuddered violently against you, succumbing to his own orgasm from your vise lock grip on his cock. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as he rocked his hips and moaned through it, your name and curses sounding like the sweetest song you’d ever heard.
“Jesus Christ.” He groaned before his body collapsed on top of yours. You could feel his thighs trembling against your own, mirroring the intensity of the feeling you both shared as you came.
The both of you laid there, shrouded in the warmth of each other's embrace, until finally he rolled away. Wincing as he pulled out and discarded the condom. You could only lay there and watch him rise from the bed on shaky legs to grab the half smoked joint from earlier. He placed it between his lips and lit it, standing there in all his naked glory, puffing on it till he could get a nice long hit. The slight skunky smell filled the room and you closed your eyes, relishing in it. But then, you were hit in the chest by something light and lacey.
“For your modesty.” Eddie smirked as you held your purple panties up in the light.
“Thanks.” You croaked, your voice hoarse and your throat sore.
Eddie crawled over you, flopping his sweaty body down next to yours. He handed you the joint, which you took gratefully, taking your own long drag and passing it back. The both of you laid in a comfortable silence, legs draped over each other and his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your bare thigh. But then something occurred to you and you turned your head to look at him.
“I didn’t corrupt you.” You said to him and he rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh.
“Yes, you did.”
“No I did not, asshole.” You guffawed, slapping your hand playfully on his bare chest.
“I wear my seatbelt and listen to fucking Journey because of you. That’s corruption.” He teased with a cute little smirk, grabbing your thigh and squeezing the soft flesh there.
“That’s just safety and taste, baby. If you want me to corrupt you there are… different things I have in mind.” You watched his eyes widen and he laughed.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He said as he leaned in, his lips tasted of you and the weed he had smoked and you smiled behind the kiss, chest full and body sore.
“Hey,” He started as he rested his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you like a little puppy. “You wanna go watch a movie? I can make some Jiffy Pop and we can cuddle on the couch?”
“Who’s picking the movie?” You asked, fingers playing with the ends of his hair.
“I had Steve score me a copy of Poltergeist 2. Picked it up from Family Video while you were at the store earlier.”  
You sat up a little, an incredulous look etched into your features while he gave you those damn puppy eyes.
“Eddie, you literally told me two weeks ago that you'd rather be decapitated than watch that movie."
Eddie only shrugged, that casual slouch of his shoulder that you had become so accustomed to, and offered you a pretty smile.
“I would. But you wanted to see it. I'll suck it up, but only for you."
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bambisnc · 7 days
Text
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late night conversations [ft. j.wy]
-> pt2 of this [recap] -> you’re just about to point out that you are, in fact, just a fake girlfriend but before you can wonyoung interrupts you, tilting your face towards her in a way that leaves your lips inches away from hers (and leaves you completely breathless), her tone dripping with urgency, “he’s looking. kiss me now.”
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pairing : wony x reader genre : fluffyy/crack/angstish + fake dating trope! cw/tw : kissing + super lowk suggestive + u dont have to read pt1 but u'd get a lil bg so + uneditted oohf ;-; wc : 2! pages! in google docs yayay
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“well aren’t you just the best kisser ever~” 
“jang wonyoung do you want me to cry.”
your fake girlfriend’s arm drapes itself over your shoulder, “but yn.. i’m the one who’s sad.. you know, i’d asked my girlfriend to kiss me, but she ended up biting my lip. i think i even saw a little blood…” you try to push her figure off of you, only for her to loop another under your knees and position you to sit on her lap with astonishing ease.
“or should i take it to mean that you were just that excited to kiss me, hmm~?” she’s teasing you, trying to rile you up – you know that. 
but since when did fake dating involve.. this much intimacy? wonyoung is still whining about how much your action pained her, you panicked okay?!, but the casual way she rests her hand on your hip and her face nuzzles into your neck, placing kisses which seem to be dangerously lowering with every successive brush of her lips on your skin.., just seems a bit too real to be considered a show.
when you’d asked her, wonyoung had an answer ready at the tip of her tongue, “we need to practice; yn c’mon you seriously don’t expect people to believe us if you keep acting all stiff. we need practice.” and voila, she’d invited herself into your house.
you ignored the dull glint of .. something you couldn’t really understand in her usually bright eyes. you ignored how her rigid expression felt like a knife to your heart.
“hey.,” 2 hands press against your face, forcing your lips into a little pout, “pay attention to me.” you think she’s still being playful, but her expression is the most serious you’ve ever seen it.. 
and then, a featherlight touch of her lips on yours.
it leaves you a little dizzy, to be honest. you’ve kissed before, and this was barely even considerable comparing your past ‘practice’ sessions with wonyoung.. so maybe it’s something about this moment in particular. 
you’d long accepted that she’d only remain a hallway crush, an alluring daydream. because you knew there was no way you could get over her unless.. unless maybe if you got the closure you needed. that you and her could never happen. which was why you’d accepted her plea to be her fake girlfriend. 
you’d hope the way she was basically using you would be enough to knock some sense back into your love lost brain. but it didn’t. you realized if it was wonyoung, you’d be okay with her doing whatever, however, whenever she wanted.
and maybe.. maybe your feelings weren’t completely hopeless. maybe you had a chance.
“wah yn- c’mon do you want me to beg?” wonyoung asks, her arms now moving to pull you closer to her, embracing you ever so tenderly, “i’ll do it if you want, you know? pleasee~ tell me why you were late to the party? you said something about an issue?”
you sigh, “it’s..complicated. a really long story. and it’s 2 am..”
“so? we have all the time in the world.” 
it’s really hard to argue with her in your current position, especially when her fingers are tracing soothing, mindless patterns on your back.
wonyoung decides you need further convincing, mumbling a “i want you to speak your mind around me yn.. let that mask of yours drop now.. please?” to do so.
gods, at this point you’d even tell her all your banking information if she wanted you to.
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notes : honorary dedication to yuyu again n @elliesrosetoy ! (ily btoh) !! &lt;33 + [m.list] + lowkey thinking of a pt3,, lmk tho!
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diorsluv · 3 months
Text
feather , part 18
“ your signals are mixed ”
series m. list previous chapter next chapter
( socialmedia!au )
yourusername
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liked by luca.fantilli, dylanduke25, jackhughes, and 37,976 others
yourusername tell me that we’ll be just fine
view all comments
username15 FUCK IM SO CONFLICTED. THE TAYLOR REFERENCE BUT THIS POST IS HER AND BANK ROBBER
username67 wait ok but seeing her torn up like this is NOT okay
_alexturcotte oh no
lhughes_06 even when u lose ur mind?
→ yourusername tell me that it’s not my fault
username89 GODDDD the fact that luke knows the reference and finished it for her 💔
→ username27 fr it was luke NOT baxter ❌
username23 she and luke need to be together i’m begging
trevorzegras TAYLOR SWIFT
→ yourusername mama taylor 🫡
username58 i don’t like this booker guy and for good reason, like he can’t be out here breaking my girl’s heart like this
username33 ok but luke has that missseraphina girl or whatever her @ is
adamfantilli the matching stitch costumes
jamie.drysdale ily and i’ll always support you but you know what i think and i think it’s time you take my advice
liked by yourusername
username9 lets talk abt how she only responded to two people and one of them was luke
edwards.73 you know we’re here for you
markestapa i’ll beat his ass i swear to god
username71 stop they’re so protective of her
mackie.samo say the word and we’ll be there
username45 tbh the insta drama is kind of embarrassing
username68 she’s not acting like herself and it’s all because of HIM
username34 idgaf what balthazar thinks he can get away with but ik it aint this
username8 fuck bjorn
yourusername
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liked by mackie.samo, colecaufield, _quinnhughes, and 88,117 others
yourusername finally posting the lakehouse pics i was gatekeeping for months 🫣🫣
tagged: jackhughes, trevorzegras, _quinnhughes
view all comments
dylanduke25 MARSHMALLOWS ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIREEEE
→ markestapa it’s chesnuts not marshmallows
→ dylanduke25 i know. 😐.
→ yourusername JACK FROST (hughes) NIPPING ATTTTTT YOUR LIPS
username46 are we just gonna pretend like that post from this morning never happened??
→ username59 if she does it, we do it
trevorzegras I MADE IT ON THE MAIN AGAIN!!!!
→ yourusername trev sweetie you gotta stop acting like i don’t post you constantly
username31 is that luke’s back or quinn’s back
→ yourusername it’s quinn!
colecaufield there’s no way you got QUINN to tan with you
→ _quinnhughes bro you were there when she took the pics
→ colecaufield oh was i??
→ _alexturcotte nah it was me rmb i’m the only one that’s seen her recently
→ colecaufield STOP RUBBING IT IN MY FACE
mackie.samo we never see you post yourself anymore 😔
→ yourusername i’m more focused on the scenery around me matthew.
→ mackie.samo OKAY OKAY u didn’t have to pull out the government name
→ markestapa she’s lying she just doesn’t have enough storage on her phone anymore
username26 that pic of jack and quinn i’m dyingggg
jackhughes remember when you burned 12 marshmallows in a row
→ yourusername remember when you said you were in love with me when you got drunk for the first time
→ jackhughes YO
→ _quinnhughes yeah how the hell do you burn that many marshmallows consecutively
lhughes_06 oh so am i just banned from all your posts now
→ yourusername 👎
username83 PLEASE I NEED MORE LAKEHOUSE POSTS
username15 didn’t quinn accidentally post jack trying to drown her on his public story once 😭
→ username2 WHAT.
next chapter notes ) a little tamer than the past few chapters, AND WE’RE GETTING RID OF BOOGER SOON SO LET’S CELEBRATE
tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes
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ellabehavior · 10 months
Text
Somethin’ new - Rafe Cameron.
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Summary: You’re the new girl and everyone wants you, but no one stands a chance when Rafe lays his eyes on you.
Pairing: Rafe cameron x Fem!Reader
A/N: This is my first story on here so I hope y’all enjoy!
-
“Don’t worry! You look fine.” Sarah says to you as you fix up your makeup.
“Sar, Be for real! it’s my first day here at the island I need to make a good impression” You sigh rolling your eyes at the blonde girl.
“We’ve been friends for over 4 years, would I lie to you? I mean i’ve lived here all my life and i’m telling you now all the guys will come running after you!” Sarah shouts giggling.
You stare at the blonde when you turn around. You recently relocated to the outer banks after spending virtually your whole life in Seattle. Since your family spent a lot of time on vacation at the Outer Banks throughout the years, you and Sarah have known each other for a while, but you haven't seen her in a minute.
“What?” Sarah says as she stares back.
“Nothin… just nervous” you retort.
“What’d I just tell you! You look hot, now come on it’s getting late.” And with that Sarah grabbed your hand and you guys started walking to the party that was only down the street.
As soon as you guys arrive you see people playing beer pong, some sucking faces on the couches, and others walking up the stairs together.
‘How did i get myself into this situation’ you think.
“Hey! I’m going to get some drinks i’ll be right back ok?” Sarah wipes you out of your thoughts.
“Yeah that’s fine!!” You say unsurely, and with that Sarah walks away.
You don’t really know anybody else here so you walk around a little bit and it starts to feel like all eyes are on you.
Just as you’re about to sit down, “Hey!” you hear from a tall man standing above you.
“My name is Topper, I seen you and Sarah walk in together but I haven’t seen you around here, are you new?” He says with a slight grin
“Yeah I just moved here yesterday, Sarah has been helping me get settled in.” You say back with a smile as he starts combing his fingers through your hair.
“Hmm.. hope to see you around sweets.” he replies and walks away with a wink.
Just as you begin replaying the interaction in your mind, Sarah comes back with your drinks and takes you inside of the party.
“Anything happen yet?” She says while she throws her arm around you.
“Nope.. Not yet.” You lie as the events begin replaying in your head once again.
When you start to feel as though everyone is staring at you again as you did earlier, you start to look around and spot a hot blonde standing next to a girl with curly hair winking at you. God, it was going to be a long night.
As the night went on, more and more guys came up to you asking you a series of questions that usually went along the lines of “Are you new here?” and “Can I take you out later?” each ending in the same answer of “Im sorry, but no.”
That’s when the tall guy named Topper from earlier came back up to you, but this time drunker than he was before.
“Hey sweets, how have you been all night?” says Topper as he throws his hand around your waist.
“It’s been good” you say as you fake smile at him feeling a little uncomfortable.
As soon as Topper opens his mouth to say another word, another man comes up to you guys.
“Get the fuck off of her.” he shouts.
“What are you talking about dude don’t be a weirdo.” Topper says to the tall man in front of him.
“You heard me, I said she was mine earlier and to not mess with her, i’ve been dealing with guys all night tryna talk to her, and i don’t think you want to be one of them.” The man says as he gets all up in Toppers face looking like he’s ready to swing.
Topper puts his hands up in a ‘Chill dude’ type of way and walks away with a roll of his eyes.
“Sorry about that, my name is Rafe.” he says as he puts his hand out for you to shake
You smile and shake his hand back
“Hey Rafe, thanks for saving me.”
He laughs, “No problem, what’s mine is mine and nobody else gets to touch it.”
Your cheeks start to flush as a result of the man's recent comments. However, you are already familiar with this man; he is Sarah's brother. Everyone constantly says he's a player and not to trust him, but with a face like that, it doesn't seem like you’re about to obey the rules.
“Do you say this to all the girls you meet?” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“Only when they’re as pretty as you.” he says back with a smirk and he brings his hand to the tip of your chin
“Yknow it’s not going to be that easy to get to me like everyone else.” You say matter-of-factly as your faces are getting closer and closer, thinking less and less about how you just met him two minutes ago.
“Hmm..that’ll be up to me to find out.” we’re the last words he breathed out as your faces connected.
You pull away slowly looking up to his eyes.
“What’d i tell you, I always get what i want.” he grins.
Jesus, you just met him and he was already going to be the death of you.
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melancholyhigh · 9 months
Note
Request (only if you want to ofc): Can you write Leon Kennedy pulling you over but like instead of fining you he's like "I have another way of solving this debt of yours" *wink* *wink*
i love this request sm
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ft. cop!leon x fem!reader
synopsis. officer kennedy is a very considerate man.
content. smut. 1.6k words. power imbalance, unprotected p in v, fingering, spanking, exhibitionism, use of the term 'sir'.
note. thank you for the request anon, i hope you enjoy! exams are almost over so i'll get to more of your requests soon <33
masterlist. inbox. comments & reblogs are highly appreciated !!
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You watch the blue and red flash of the cop car through the side mirror of your vehicle. The God-awful siren screeching is enough to sour your already shitty mood.
Pulling over to the side of the road, you contemplate how to get your ass out of this problem. You couldn’t afford a ticket right now. Your student debt is enough of a financial crisis.
There’s a knock on the glass, and you roll your window down. You hoped the officer would understand your situation and give you a break.
“Do you have any idea how fast you were going, ma’am?” A smooth yet authoritative voice questioned. 
You always hated that question. How were you even supposed to answer it? 
You finally glance up at the officer with an unamused look, noticing his pretty blue eyes trail along your body. He’s probably trying to figure out if you’re under the influence.
He notices your lack of response before continuing, “You were going a 100 in a 75. I’m going to have to–”
“C’mon, officer.” You cut off his statement with desperation, gripping the steering wheel in frustration. “There has to be another way. I- I can’t afford to pay off anything right now. I’ll do anything, I swear.”
It was your fault you got into this predicament, but you weren’t ready to accept that yet. 
He's observing you again, weighing his options. He clicks his tongue but agrees. 
“Anything? I think I have another way you can make up for it,” he says, a sly smirk on his lips.
“Really!? Thank you so much, sir!” You say excitedly, a smile blooming on your face. “What do you have in mind?”
“Would you mind exiting your car?”
You feel nervous but comply, stepping out of your car. 
You stand tall, straightening your back as you look at the brooding officer. His eyes are on you again, but there’s something else in his gaze while he watches you from top to bottom. He takes in your outfit, the tight mini skirt and top that leaves little to the imagination. 
You’re staring right back at him. You couldn’t deny that he looks attractive. The blue cotton shirt hugs his fit figure, and the blonde wisps of hair frame his gorgeous face. You always did like a man in uniform. 
“So how will I avoid the dent in my bank account? Officer…” You trail on. 
“Officer Leon Kennedy.” He says, stepping closer to you. “I’m gonna make sure you won’t be reckless on the road again.”
Your eyes widen slightly at the sudden proximity, but you don’t mind. You also don’t miss the look the officer gives you like you’re his favourite meal, ready to be ravaged. 
“How are you gonna do that, Officer Kennedy?” You ask, looking up at him innocently, playing into it.
“I’m going to punish you. Is that okay with you, ma’am?”
Your face feels warm at his words, but you nod. The warmth moves through your body and to your core.
“You have to tell me, miss.” He softly grips your jaw, making you look up at him. His thumb pulls at your bottom lip. You can’t believe you’re about to fuck a police officer in public to avoid being fined.
“It's okay.” You manage to get out. He squeezes your cheeks, your lips jutting out. 
“Sir or Officer Kennedy. You get that baby?” He states, letting go of your face when you mumbled a quiet yes, sir. You’re looking up at him again, awaiting what he will do next. 
“Bend over, ma’am. Over the hood of your car.” He instructs you, his voice laced with authority, and your pussy pulses with need. 
You’re quick to listen to his every word. On your elbows and palms, flat against the hood of your car, supporting your body weight. One of his hands rests on your hips while the other is trailing down to the hem of your skirt. He bunches the fabric up, and you gasp softly at the cold air nipping at your skin. 
You hear a faint fuck not before both of his are on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. His hand moves to your panties, and you’ve probably soaked through them. He presses his thick fingers on the dampened spot.
“I think you’re enjoying this punishment too much, baby.” He mutters, gliding his fingers along your panties, barely enough stimulation on your clit.
“Fuck, please,” you whine softly. Hands come into contact with the flesh of your ass with a loud sound, and a whimper softly escapes the back of your throat. The pain which resonates with the slap turns into pleasure, and you involuntarily squeeze your thighs together. 
“Please, sir.” He mocks you as he soothes the tender area. You want to roll your eyes, but instead, you relent, repeating his words with need. 
“I don’t know. Will you behave for me, miss?”
“Yes, sir.” You whine. “I– I’ll be good for you.”
You hear him chuckle behind you, but he pulls your panties to the side, marvelling at your dripping cunt. His digits glide along your drooling pussy, coating it in your slick. He pulls his fingers back, and you hear him sucking on them with a loud groan.
“You taste so good, ma’am.”
You don’t have time to appreciate his kind words before his fingers work on your throbbing clit. You gasp at the sudden attention, and Officer Kennedy takes an opportunity to push his finger inside you. 
Loud whines leave you as you fall apart on the Officer’s finger. He adds another digit, pumping them into your pussy. His movements are deliberate, curling into your cunt as he tries to edge you, keeping you from coming.
“Good girls get to come,” he had said.
You’re so close to coming for what feel’s like the 10th time — he pulls away from you. You huff in annoyance. 
There’s another slap on your raw ass, and you can’t help but moan. Each noise you make goes straight to Leon’s cock. 
“Please, sir, fuck me.” You’re almost sobbing from being robbed of another orgasm. Your thigh’s trembling, and your lips quiver as you plead to the Officer. 
“Only because you’ve been so good for me, baby.” 
You hear the soft clicking of his belt as he unbuckles it and pushes his boxer down to expose his aching cock. You so badly want to turn your head back to look at it.
One of his hands is on the curve of your back, pushing you forward on the hood of your car as the other guides his dick along your slit, bumping your clit. The tip of his cock enters your cunt, and you whine aloud. 
He’s slowly moving into your tight, huffing as he does so. He isn’t even entirely in, but he’s already stretching you wide. 
He’s wholly inside of you, your ass flushed to his pelvis. His cock is so fat you wish you could’ve seen it before it's inside of you. You’re grateful he’s prepped you with his fingers despite the teasing. 
He leans forward, your back pressed against his chest, and his breath fans your ear. You clench around him, and he groans. 
He starts moving in and out of your sloppy pussy, and your arousal coats his cock with each movement. You push for hips back, eager to finally come.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head when the tip of his cock kisses the spot that makes you see stars. Your moans grow in volume and amount.
“Sh– Shit. You want everyone to know how much of a slut you are, huh? How much you love to be fucked dumb by an officer?” He huffs into your ear, punctuating each word with the thrust of his hips. 
You’re full-on sobbing due to the assaulting pace of his cock on your g-spot. He squeezes your hips roughly, letting out soft moans into your ear as the velvety walls of your cunt squeeze him tight. 
You’re so close. The knot formed in your tummy is so tight, ready to snap.
“Can I come, sir?” You plead, teary-eyed. Your nails attempting to dig into the hood of your car. You hope it doesn't dent as he fucks you.
“Come, baby. Let everyone know who’s fucking you so good.” He groans. You know there isn’t anyone here for miles, but the thought still has you clenching around his cock.
Leon moves one of his hands to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bud. Your cunt gushes as you come undone, pulsing around his fat cock, which still persistently ruts into you.
“Where d’you want my cum, ma’am?” He pants. It now hits that he still doesn’t know your name. That doesn’t change the fact you want him to come in you. 
“Come inside me, sir.”
You hear him gasp before he comes, spilling his hot seeds inside your tight cunt. 
He pulls out of you, placing back your panties on and pulling your skirt down before fixing himself back into his pants. 
With shaking legs, you turn around to face Officer Kennedy, his cum spilling from your panties and down your thighs. You look up at him through eyelashes, clumped together from tears. He holds you by your waist as you try to balance yourself. 
His face is flushed pink, and the blonde wisps of hair stick to his sweat-slicked forehead. He clears his throat, continuing,
“I think you might have to pay an extra fine.”
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laurenairay · 2 months
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Lately you've been on my mind - E. Pettersson
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I’m jumping in as a pinch-hitter as part of @wyattjohnston’s winter fic exchange, with an Elias Pettersson story for @typical-simplelove! I really hope you enjoy this Claudia– I had a lot of fun creating something from the prompts you gave me, and I was just so inspired that I wrote it all in one day! And thank you Demi, for being a sounding board for me as I put together my ideas.
Summary: Brock Boeser is the ultimate match maker – he knows he is. And he is determined to set his friends up.
a.k.a. you and Elias are both friends with Brock, and keep finding yourselves in moments alone.
Words: 4.9k
Warnings: idiots to lovers, self-doubt, Brock is a meddler
Title from: Adore you, by Harry Styles
~
2019 was already shaping up to be a fantastic year. The sun was shining brightly, the January air was crisp and cold, and you had Spanish Banks dog park essentially to yourself, seeing that it was excruciatingly early in the morning.
But damn if the views of the North Shore mountains weren’t worth it. Your dog seemed to agree, with the way he was running up and down the sand. You’d lived in Vancouver all your 20 years so far, still living with your parents where you’d decided not to go to university, and it was moments like this that reminded you just how fortunate you were.
Your peace and quiet lasted for all of another half an hour before you heard enthusiastic barking from behind you. Recalling your dog to your side – which only took a couple of attempts, which was an improvement – you turned your head to see what was coming your way, only to freeze at the guy you saw walking towards you.
A guy that was clearly the up-and-coming star of your family’s favourite sports team, the Vancouver Canucks. Brock Boeser, in the flesh.
“Hey, sorry for interrupting your quiet.”
His smile tightened slightly when he realised you clearly knew who he was, with whatever your face was doing, but you quickly shook your head to reassure him. No, he was here just the same as you, to walk his dog. You could be cool with that.
“It’s a beautiful off-leash park – it would be a shame not to share it,” you shrugged, smiling back at him.
Brock immediately relaxed, easy a tension you didn’t realise you had.
“Who’s this beautiful pup, hm?”
“This is Bailey. I’ve had him, like, three months now? He’s only 18 months old so he’s still learning not to jump up, but he tries his best,” you mused.
“He’s perfect…”
Yes, Brock was definitely a dog person.
“…a border collie, right?”
“Yeah that’s right. He was abandoned a few months ago at a shelter my mom volunteers at, and I barely had to beg her to let me adopt him,” you laughed.
Brock just grinned. “Coola was a rescue dog as well. I adopted him back in February last year, after the All Star Game, but he lived in Minnesota with my parents while I finished my rookie year. I know the feeling of not being able to resist a sweet little dog.”
At least he understood.
With a smile, you motioned for Bailey that he was allowed to run again, and within moments Coola was joining him, the two dogs playing in the surf.
“So, you live here then?”
You and Brock walked your dogs for nearly another hour, the two of you talking like you’d known each other all your lives, before Bailey flopped at your feet, a clear sign he was done and ready to leave.
“Looks like that’s my cue,” you said dryly, making Brock laugh.
“Definitely,” he teased, “but hey, maybe we could exchange numbers? I’d love to walk Coola with you and Bailey again, now that I know they’re friends.”
You hesitated slightly, unsure whether he actually meant that, but the earnestness in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.
“Sure, I’d like that. Bailey could use all the friends he could get,” you mused.
Brock just grinned.
“I don’t know, I have a feeling we’re going to be pretty good friends as well.”
~
Nearly five years on and you were (somehow) genuine friends with Brock. He’d been right, against all odds. There was just something about his straightforward friendship that made your life that little bit easier, knowing that you could rely on him to be a breath of fresh air, no drama. And you knew he appreciated your chilled approach to pretty much everything, never judging him, always his biggest supporter – both on the team and for him as a person. Brock Boeser was probably one of the best friends you’d ever had, and you cherished everything about him, like an older brother you didn’t realise you needed.
Brock had always insisted that you needed to be integrated into every part of his life, so you spent more time with his team than you ever thought you would (and hadn’t that been a starstruck moment, when you’d first attended a team gathering). He pretty much brought you to all gatherings, events, and anything to do with Coola (and now Milo), and while at first it had been overwhelming, you’d quickly adjusted when you realised just how ridiculous his teammates were.
So it wasn’t a surprise to Elias Pettersson when he walked into Brock’s house and saw you sitting on the sofa surrounded by dogs.
“Well this looks cosy.”
You grinned at his teasing words, waving him over. “It’s good to see you too, Elias.”
He shared a small private smile with you, lifting Milo’s legs to take a seat on the sofa next to you. The dog in question huffed out his displeasure but didn’t move, allowing Elias to settle in properly.
This guy, more than anyone else, was the teammate you enjoyed spending the most time with alongside Brock. Elias was definitely the most sane of all Brock’s Vancouver friends, and his dry sense of humour always had you in stitches. It was rare that he showed much of himself to anyone, as reserved as he was, but the more you’d gotten to know him over the years, the more you recognised the little signs of his reactions and collated them like hoarded treasure. And the more that Elias had gotten to know you, the more willing he seemed to be to share jokes and smiles and laughter with you, forging a friendship of your own.
And yes, sure, you couldn’t deny that you found him attractive – you’d be crazy or blind to think otherwise - but he’d never shown a hint of interest towards you in that way. And there was no way you’d ever say anything unless you were sure things were reciprocated (there was just no way), so you were more than happy to have him as a friend. Elias Pettersson was an unmistakeable joy in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin that.
He really was so handsome though.
“I’m surprised Brock isn’t buried under puppies like usual,” Elias said.
“We haven’t been long back from walking the dogs, so I said I’d get them settled while he showered and got ready to head out with you,” you explained, running your hand over your Bailey’s head.
“He does need to look pretty enough to leave the house, that’s true,” he mused.
You couldn’t help but laugh, the both of you knowing Brock needed no help in looking pretty, Elias just smiling widely.
It just goes to show how wrapped up you were in Elias’s attention that neither of you noticed Brock standing at the bottom of the stairs, eyes lighting up at your laughter and Elias’s smile.
~
It was early, far too early, but here you were fulfilling Bailey’s every need. You were wrapped up warm, puffer jacket, woollen hat, gloves, and scarf, walking your border collie through Hadden Park, allowing the travel mug of coffee to wake you up fully while you took in the views surrounding you. Bailey was in his element, trotting about and sniffing every single leaf and twig, and it was only your phone buzzing that broke you out of your silent contentment.
From: Brock Hey, are you walking Bailey?
To: Brock Yeah we’re at Hadden Park Wasn’t sure if you would be getting up early after your game last night so I didn’t text
From: Brock Hah yeah fair enough Do you mind if Petey comes along?
You tried not to fantasise about why Elias was so willing to join you both on a dog walk, so early on a day off. You tried so hard.
To: Brock Of course I don’t mind
From: Brock Of course?
You felt heat dancing across your cheeks. Damn it Brock.
To: Brock You know I think Petey is great.
From: Brock Well I definitely do now.
You groaned, already able to picture the smirk on your friend’s face.
To: Brock Don’t be dumb I’ll see you soon
The last thing you needed was Brock teasing you, especially in front of Elias. The last thing you wanted was Elias to feel uncomfortable around you, just because you find him attractive. The last thing you could bear would be if you lost your friendship with Elias just because Brock was reading into things that weren’t true.
But there was nothing you could do for damage control until Brock was in front of you. All you could hope was that he didn’t make you look like an idiot.
It couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes before you saw the familiar pair walking towards you, dogs at Brock’s side, and you found yourself smiling despite your trepidation. You gave them both hugs in greeting, travel mug long empty and placed in your bag, Bailey barking happily.
“What a beautiful morning,” Brock said happily.
“Cold but beautiful, sure,” you mused.
Elias nodded his agreement, thick scarf wrapped in loops around him, Brock just laughing.
“Petey, you don’t mind taking Coola while I walk Milo, do you?” Brock asked.
Elias narrowed his eyes, as if trying to read into Brock’s words, but Brock just kept smiling at him.
“Sure, I can walk Coola,” Elias eventually said.
“Great!”
The moment that Coola’s leash was in Elias’s hands, Coola darted forward, Elias crashing directly into your body. It was only through his quick reflexes that you didn’t end up on your ass, his hands clutching at your hips while you clung to his jacket.
“Coola! Chill!”
Brock’s giggled words did little to calm his dog down, all three dogs dancing around your feet as Elias steadied you. His face was impossibly close to yours, breath practically mingling. How had you not realised how blue his eyes were before this? His lips were parted slightly, as if he was still processing, but it was only when Bailey bumped into both of your legs that he abruptly let you go, and you dropped your hands too.
“Sorry, sorry,” he blurted, stepping away sharply.
“No apologies needed. It wasn’t your fault,” you said, shaking your head with a weak smile.
“Aww you can’t blame Coola for being excited,” Brock grinned, kneeling down to give fuss to both his dogs.
There was something in his smile that you just couldn’t put your finger on. Hm.
“Shall we walk then, if they’re so excited?” Elias said dryly.
All three dogs started barking at the word ‘walk’, making you laugh and nod, Brock just grinning even wider.
~
From: Brock Petey is taking the roadtrip losses really hard. Come over tomorrow?
~
You don’t know what it was that possessed you, but the moment you received those texts from Brock, you knew you had to do something. Elias was such a stoic guy, so reserved in his emotions, so the fact that it was obvious enough he was suffering that Brock asked for your help? There was no way you weren’t going to do everything in your power to ease any tensions they had, especially Elias.
There wasn’t much you could do, but you could do this.
When you arrived at Brock’s house the next morning, you were only mildly startled to see Elias opening the door instead of Brock, his eyes flashing in surprise before he smiled.
“Did Brock not say I was coming over?” you said hesitantly.
The last thing you wanted was to intrude.
“He said we were going for brunch, but this is a welcome surprise,” Elias said, smiling softly.
Oh. Now you felt stupid.
Wait, a welcome surprise?
“I don’t know what is making your face do that, but I’m not lying when I say it’s good to see you,” Elias said firmly.
“Alright, I believe you,” you mused.
Elias just grinned, walking over to the bottom of the staircase.
“SHE’S HERE!”
“GOOD! YOU’RE COMING FOR BRUNCH, RIGHT?”
You rolled your eyes fondly at Brock’s assumptions. It wasn’t like you had much else planned for today, but still!
“YEAH I’LL COME!”
Elias laughed at your matching volume, making you smile back at him, a light flush dusting across your cheeks. His laugh was magical and you weren’t going to shame yourself for liking it.
“Brock’s just finishing his hair and then he’ll be down. That’s what he said anyway,” Elias explained, sitting down on the arm of Brock’s sofa.
“He’s got an image to maintain, can’t be looking anything less than perfect,” you teased, the familiar joke making you smile.
Elias just snickered, shaking his head. You leaned up against the back of the sofa, standing close enough to Elias that the blue of his eyes was almost hypnotising, before you remembered why you came over in the first place.
“It feels a little silly now, but I heard from a little bird that you were taking things a little rough, so here’s a little something,” you said.
“Brock needs to keep his mouth shut,” he grumbled.
You just laughed, reaching into your bag to pull out the gift. But as you placed it in his hands, Elias froze.
“What’s this?” Elias said, eyes wide in shock.
You bit your bottom lip, before letting out a shaky breath. Here goes nothing.
“You were having a bad day. So I made you a hat,” you said simply, trying to keep your voice light and airy.
“You made me a hat? You knitted this?”
Elias stared down in wonder at the soft light blue woollen bundle in his hand, a look of pure astonishment on his face. It was only then that you realised how close it was to the colour of his eyes.
“Uh, yes, I did? I got back into knitting recently, so it’s nothing fancy, but I just wanted to make something to cheer you up?” you said, trying not to cringe at yourself.
“No-one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
Your lips parted in surprise at his soft words.
“Really?”
“Really really,” Elias nodded.
“I’ve never had a hat made for me either.”
You flinched at the sound of Brock’s voice coming from behind you, Elias immediately scowling over your shoulder.
“Wouldn’t want to cover up your Prince Charming hair,” Elias grumbled, shoving the hat into the pocket of his hoodie.
You didn’t mention the dark blue hat you’d knitted for Brock that was tucked into your bag. Brock pouted as you snickered, slinking into the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone again.
“Look, I know it’s not really my place. And that we’re just friends because of Brock. But these losses were just a bad blip – you’re going to get over them in no time at all, and be back to destroying the other teams like you were born to,”
Elias smiled wryly. “It doesn’t feel like that right now. But thanks.”
You pursed your lips briefly before huffing out a breath. Telling him what you really thought was hardly the most embarrassing thing you’d ever done.
“You make me so proud. You know that, right?”
“What?” Elias frowned.
“You go out there, every single day, and give this team, this city, your all. Your pour yourself into everything that you do, always give 100%, and as your friend, as someone who has known you for years…I am so proud of you.”
As your cheeks heated from your words, Elias swallowed heavily, a flush dusting across his own cheeks.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve this, to deserve your kind words, but I appreciate it. Thank you,” he murmured.
Your heartbeat raced at the intensity in his eyes.
“Brunch? Can we go?”
Elias scowled again at Brock’s grinning interruption but walked away towards the front door. You were read to grumble at Brock yourself, until you saw Elias pull the knitted hat out of his pocket and slide it on over his hair. It looked…perfect.
“Are you good?” Brock asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I’m great.”
Your voice was far breathier than you would ever admit.
*
Another month, another team event. This time Brock had invited you to be his plus one to a formal gala, hardly the first time he had asked and yet this time he practically begged you to come along. You didn’t need him to beg, you could admit that much – the events were always fun and hey, you got to dress up nicely – but his behaviour was strange, even for him.
Either way, Brock had looked ecstatic when you said yes, even going as buying you a gorgeous midnight blue evening gown, sleeveless and high-necked, as classy as it was beautiful, so you were going to complain. He could have his secrets – you knew you’d get it out of him eventually.
He picked you up after you’d gotten your hair and nails done, make-up subtle but elegant, wide smile on his face as he drove the two of you to the event. You didn’t have time to be suspicious about his good mood as the two of you greeted his teammates and their better halves, your attention consumed by all the cheek kisses and compliments, but you should’ve known he was up to something. Because the moment that the two of you joined Elias at a table with a few chairs around it, Brock all but disappeared, leaving the two of you completely alone.
“Hi Brock. Bye Brock,” Elias said dryly.
“I have no idea what’s gotten into him tonight, I am so sorry,” you sighed.
“Hey, no, don’t apologise for him. I’m sorry that he’s abandoned you already,” Elias said, frowning.
“Well at least I’m near a chair,” you said, huffing out a laugh, “High heels are not my friends.”
Elias immediately pulled a chair out for you to sit on, and you felt a gentle heat brush across your cheeks at the gentlemanly action.
“Thanks Elias,” you said, more shocked than anything.
Not too shocked to smile at him as he sat down right next to you, after picking up a couple of flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. If he wanted to join you…well, you weren’t going to complain. Not if you got his attention all to yourself.
It can’t have been more than an hour before Brock wandered back over, but by the flush on his cheeks and the glassiness of his eyes, he was more than a little tipsy. Damn it Brock.
“You’re not going to ask this beautiful woman to dance, Petey?”
Elias immediately blushed furiously, eyes narrowing at his friend, making you want to die a little inside – but also to shield him.
“Oh no, these heels are killing my feet already. Elias is just being kind enough to keep me company,” you said sweetly.
Brock snickered, shaking his head, but walked away without any further pestering. You both sat there for a moment in silence, reeling from the short conversation. What the hell was that, Brock?
“You didn’t have to make up a lie to defend me,” Elias said, finally looking at you again.
“I wanted to.”
The mortification that filled your body upon your blurted words was immediate and all-consuming, especially with how surprised Elias looked. How could you save this? How the hell could you save this?
“Besides it’s the least I could do for Brock dumping me on you in the first place,” you said coolly, shrugging, trying to calm yourself down and failing miserably.
Elias hesitated before something flashed across his face, and he looked at you with an expression you’d never seen from him before. It made you shiver. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Oh.
Oh.
He…really?
You’d spent so long convinced that he didn’t see you that way, that he wasn’t attracted to you in the slightest, and now that he’d said this? Giving you enough to let yourself hope, to admit to yourself that your sweetest daydreams and deepest fantasies could actually be reality?
While your mind raced, full of swirling realisations that perhaps things weren’t so unrequited after all, Elias just watched you, expression just as intense as before. It wasn’t until you let out a shaky breath, smiling a tiny smile at him, that he nodded, clearing his throat.
“Another drink?”
“Yes, definitely.”
*
Movie nights were sacred. It didn’t matter who they were with, not really, but now that you had your own tiny apartment, a night in watching your favourite movies and eating your favourite snacks was always the best way to unwind. Usually Brock was your only companion, or Brock with a few of his teammates, and that was the plan tonight. Brock and Elias were both joining you for a movie night and you couldn’t wait to have a chilled night in with two of your favourite people. Even if your whole world had been shaken up only last week at that eventful team gala.
The pizzas you’d ordered hadn’t long arrived before Elias arrived at your door, beers in hand, and you let him in with a happy smile.
“Thanks for inviting me,” he said, smiling shyly back at you.
Your breath caught in your throat at the sweetness in his face, and you found yourself just nodding.
“You know you’re always welcome. Come on, pizza just got here too.”
Elias all but raced you to the kitchen, making you laugh as he opened the cardboard lids. But your phone buzzed before you could reach for a slice.
From: Brock I can’t make it tonight. Have fun. Both of you.
You heart started racing at his implications, knowing deep in your bones that Brock never intended to come this evening. Had he known all along, how you felt about Elias? And how you hoped Elias felt for you too?
Surely not.
But then again, Brock always surprised you. You had always tried not to underestimate your friend, but it appeared that you’d fallen for that sweet innocent smile just the same as everyone else.
“Is Brock on his way?”
“Brock isn’t coming.”
“Oh.”
Elias seemed to hesitate, making you inhale sharply.
“Did you want to reschedule?” he asked, wincing.
You could be brave, right? Or at least take a step towards bravery?
“You’re already here…so we can still have our own movie night?” you suggested, unable to stop yourself from chewing your bottom lip.
Elias’s eyes flickered down quickly towards your mouth, before he cleared his throat and smiled softly at you. “Yeah, of course we can. Also means we don’t have to listen to Brock whining that we aren’t watching one of his rom com choices.”
The dryness of his tone made you giggle, immediately cutting through the lingering awkward tension. You could absolutely do a movie night just with Elias. You could absolutely handle being alone with him like this.
Absolutely.
The two of you ploughed through the pizzas while you watched one of you go-to action movies, laughing and talking all the way through, even finishing the popcorn and a couple of beers each by the time the credits were rolling. Bailey had happily sat by your feet the whole time, actually behaving himself for once, and you couldn’t remember a time when you’d felt so content. So relaxed and happy. Brock had always brought that out in you, and now that Elias had too? It just filled you with butterflies in the best way.
“Shall we watch another?”
“Definitely,” you nodded, smiling up at him.
Elias smiled easily back. “You choose? I’ll clear up.”
Before you could protest or even help him, Elias had picked up both pizza boxes and all the empty beer bottles, leaving you alone on the sofa. You heard him opening the trash can, snapping you out of your surprise, so you started scrolling through Netflix again, eventually deciding on a light-hearted comedy just as Elias re-entered the room. Bailey had trotted out to his own bed when Elias left, so it really was just the two of you now.
Something that made your breath hitch in your throat was the way that Elias sat down closer to you this time. Unmistakably closer, close enough to feel the heat from his body and to smell his cologne. He did that on purpose, there was no doubt about it. But his face gave you no answers, nothing more than his usual smile around you, so you let it go. Overthinking things was definitely not the way to go, you knew that much.
It didn’t make your heartrate calm down at all though.
You pressed play to get the movie started, lightly tossing the tv remote onto your coffee table before settling back into the sofa, letting the familiar introduction wash over you.
It took ten minutes for everything to change.
Elias wasn’t a big hugger. You knew this. Brock knew this. The whole of the Vancouver Canucks knew this. So when you felt a pressure along your shoulders, you tried not to flinch, realising it was his arm stretching across the back of the sofa when his hand lightly brushed your opposite shoulder. Elias…Elias had put his arm around you. He’d put his arm around you? You glanced up at him, trying to get any sense of his thought process, but his eyes were resolutely glued to the television, his body a frozen line of tension. All over again, your heart started racing. You were right after all. Maybe…maybe Elias really did have feelings for you, just as he’d finally hinted at the team event, and now he was making a gentle move in the most Petey way ever.
The ball was in your court.
Ever so slowly, you relaxed against under his arm, sinking into his side, head resting on his chest. You could hear just how fast his own heart was racing and it made you smile, feeling giddy that he was just as affected as you were, even more so when his arm draped around you properly. This was really happening. Elias Pettersson had really instigated snuggling with you on the sofa. This was better than any dream you could’ve imagined.
The next thing you knew, you were blinking your eyes open. The sky outside was pitch black, the curtains still wide open, and the Netflix landing page was glaring bright. But the main thing you noticed? You were curled up against Elias’s side still, head resting on his chest, his arm having fallen down to your waist and his head lolling back on the sofa. You’d fallen asleep together? Was there anything more cliché than that? Still, it felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest with how right it felt to be in Elias’s hold. His hands were so large and so warm, the heat spreading through the contact on top of your sweatpants. His chest was so solid and calming under your cheek. And as you lifted your head, ever to slightly to look at him properly, even just through the light from the TV he looked so handsome. Beautiful and peaceful. But there was no way that could be comfortable for him, and the last thing you wanted was for an aching neck to put a damper on what was the perfect evening.
So you lightly rested your hand on his chest, shaking him gently until you heard him grunt in displeasure.
“Hey, Elias, we fell asleep on the sofa,” you murmured.
He immediately groaned, making you laugh softly, smiling at him as he finally lifted his head.
“I was having such a good dream,” he grumbled.
Then he seemed to freeze as he realised where he actually was, taking note of how you were still tucked into his side, and where his arm and hand were holding you.
“Damn it, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“Hey, no, we both fell asleep eh?” you said, interrupting with a smile and a shake of your head, “It’s fine, Elias. We were both cosy.”
He swallowed heavily before nodding.
“I don’t think I’ve ever fallen asleep on the sofa with someone before,” he mumbled, “It was…nice.”
You felt your cheeks heating up with the gentle compliment, your smile letting him know you felt the same.
“I should go,” he said softly.
No!
Well, now was your moment. Now was the time to be brave where you’d never needed to be so brave before. After everything that had been building between the two of you…now was the moment.
“Or, maybe you could stay, and we could talk in the morning,” you offered as calmly as you could.
You felt Elias inhale sharply where your hand was still resting on his chest.
“The kind of talk that I’ve been wanting to have for a while?” he asked, hope evident in his eyes.
Oh wow.
For a while?
You felt like you were floating as his words sunk in.
“Yeah I think we’re on the same page,” you murmured, your blood thrumming with possibility.
The smile that spread across Elias’s face made your heart soar, and you found yourself smiling just as widely back. And when he leant forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead, you’d never felt more alive.
You could only imagine Brock’s satisfied grin when you told him.
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dontflailmenow · 1 year
Text
push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) - part five/finale
summary: thirsting over your ex’s best friend in general is a bad idea. given that you and seungcheol have never gotten along, it’s even worse. when you accidentally stumble across his stream, though, and he finds out? all bets are off.
pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader
word count: 16.6k (I am so sorry, y'all, but I'm also not)
genre: smut (18+), enemies to lovers, angst, camboy au
warnings/contains: adult language, banter, teasing, explicit sexual content, oral sex (m. and f. receive), manual stimulation (m. and f. receive), unprotected sex + creampie (reader is on bc), two swats on the ass, discussion of potential power dynamics in sexual situations (but I think it's pretty mild tbh), brief discussion of camboy things, gratuitous use of petnames, being disgustingly affectionate in public, mutually consensual possessiveness, strength kink, sir kink, reader likes being a brat and cheol is into it. I think that's it, but if I missed any, please let me know.
a/n: thank you to every single person who has read this series and waited so patiently along the way. this is the biggest and longest thing I've ever written and it's been an experience, for sure! I hope you all enjoy this last part and how the rest of the story unfolds. special thanks to @biaswreckingfics and @librarian-stacks for being my hype women, my executive board, and my extra sets of eyes on this story when I was struggling with ????? I love you both and don't have words for how much I appreciate and respect and value you.
I'll get the taglists on a reblog because tumblr is NOT liking the length of this post rn.
series masterlist
svthub masterlists: hyung line and maknae line
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previous part
Despite his words about shoving you through your door and fucking you against it, Seungcheol let you enter before him on your own time, walking in after you and shutting it behind him gently. He flipped the deadbolt then you watched as he let his back fall to the door and rested his weight there, banked heat in the brown eyes meeting yours. The sight of his tongue slipping out to wet his lips and him catching his lower lip between his teeth as he stood there and slowly looked you up and down, stoked the flames in your body, fire licking at you with the pass of his gaze over your body. 
His smirk said he knew damned well what he was doing. 
You tore your own gaze away from his mouth and waited for him to meet it, lifting both brows and tilting your head slightly in question. “I thought you were going to fuck me against the door, Cheol. Did you decide to just stare at me from the door instead?”
Seungcheol chuckled, pushing himself away from the door and walking toward you. “Trust me, my preference is to already be inside you, princess, but I’m trying to be at least a little bit of a gentleman here and give you the space to change your mind.”
Oh. 
Another two steps and he was close enough to touch. Your hands came up to rest against his abdomen and he sucked in a sharp breath, brushing the back of his fingers across your jaw while he gripped your hip with the other hand and drew your body into his. The action erased the rest of the distance between you and your fingers fisted in the fabric of his t-shirt at the feel of his body pressed to yours. 
“I can’t help staring, though. Since you can’t either, I’m guessing you don’t mind too much,” he murmured, the hand at your jaw shifting to your nape. Fingers slid into your hair and tightened around it. Tilted your head back. Leaning in until his lips were hovering above yours. “Tell me.”
Jesus Christ.
You were not proud of the sound you made then, the needy little whimper that spoke volumes, but it worked its way past your lips before you could stop it. That smirk of his was back and only Seungcheol could make you simultaneously want to kiss him and kick him. You needed to say something instead of just – just standing there and letting him have the upper hand.
“Tell you what? That I don’t mind you staring at me? Or that I didn’t change my mind and my preference is also for you to already be inside me? You’re gonna have to be more specific,” you finally managed, proud of yourself for the teasing lilt in your voice. For the way he cursed in response and his fingertips pressed harder into the skin at your hip.
When he spoke, his voice was a growl. “Careful, princess.”
Your smile was as sweet as pie, and you blinked guilelessly at him. “Why’s that, sir?”
Seungcheol groaned then his lips were on yours, fingers in your hair tightening their hold further and pulling – gently, just enough for you to feel it, just enough to make your knees go wobbly and you to breathe his name. Your lips parted for him and he took advantage, sliding his tongue into your mouth and against yours, suckling at your tongue before pulling back to bite at your bottom lip. To lave at it with his tongue. 
His own lips turned up in the corners at your attempt to follow his mouth as he drew back further and your pout when his grip in your hair stopped you.
“We’re gonna have a long talk later about exactly which of my videos you watched and why,” he said, words a low rumble against your neck from where he spoke them into the skin beneath your ear. You pressed your thighs together and squeezed your eyes shut at the way the rumble worked its way down your spine to settle in your center. “About kinks and limits, aren’t we?”
“Hmm?” 
He nipped at the skin of your neck and your body jerked. “That was a question, sweetheart. I expect an answer.”
You had been wet since the car, but your reaction to the authoritative tone and words should not be to flood your fucking panties. It shouldn’t. Should it? It should. Whatever. Seungcheol – first, as S.Coups and now, as himself – had clearly taught you some things about yourself and obviously would continue to do so. 
Given his fingers were still fisted in your hair and his hold was solid, you nodded as best you could. “Y-Yes. We’ll talk about it. That. All of that.” Lashes fluttering open, you settled your gaze on his and your knees would in all honesty have buckled at the way his eyes burned, if his hand at your hip didn’t slide around your waist to hold you up. Well. They did buckle, but you didn’t fall on your ass because he had you. 
He had you. 
He had you and you knew you were safe with him, even if you from a month ago – hell, even a week ago – would’ve called you crazy for even thinking it. Your breath left you in a soft sigh.
“I didn’t change my mind, Cheol. Are you done being a gentleman yet or did you change your mind?”
“No, princess,” Seungcheol said with a shake of his head, although his gaze remained locked on yours and his mouth pulled into a knowing smirk. “I didn’t change my mind. Told you last night that you could have anything you wanted and I meant it. Including me. If you want me, you’ve got me.”
Your fingers dug into his upper arms, your stomach doing somersaults. At face value, his words could be taken to mean physically. Could be confirming that he’d take you to bed and give your body what it was aching for. Yesterday, you would’ve taken it that way. Tonight, his strong arm still wrapped securely around your waist and holding you up, the warmth in his eyes that was far more than sexual, his confession from earlier still reverberating in the back of your mind, you knew better. 
Yes, of course, he also meant he was going to fuck you. That’s why he was in your apartment at that moment. But it wasn’t just about that. You might have been oblivious for…far longer than you perhaps should have been but you were no longer. What happened next – how you chose to interpret those words – was up to you. He would honor your choice. 
Sexual release between two people who were no longer enemies? 
Accepting his feelings and yours, and starting something more?
You’d joked about you not hating him earlier and wanting to be his, about him wanting to be yours. The gentle squeeze at your waist was a reassurance that he wouldn’t hold you to that. As was the soft kiss he pressed to the bridge of your nose while he waited for your response. Waited for you.
Again.
It was still wild to be on the receiving end of his understanding and affection, but that’s where you were.
What did you want this to be?
“I get to keep you, huh?” you finally settled on, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of his t-shirt.
Seungcheol’s chest expanded with the deep breath he drew in and when he smiled, it was wide, bright, both of those devastating dimples in full effect. “Yeah, princess. You get to keep me.”
“Oh good! In that case, I take my coffee with –”
“I know how you take your coffee,” he interrupted with a puff of laughter. 
Your eyes widened. “You do?”
Another soft laugh before his lips brushed over yours. “Yes. It might shock you to hear this, but I’m a pretty observant man. I pay attention even when I’m pretending I don’t.” 
“That does shock me, actually.”
“It’s like you want me to put you over my knee.”
You hadn’t really given it much thought, but the way you throbbed in response indicated maybe you should start. Instead of telling him that, though, you lifted your chin and taunted. “As if you could.”
His answering smile was lupine and you felt a shiver work its way through you, a delicious apprehension (anticipation) in the face of his change in demeanor. 
“Where’s your bedroom? Unless you really do want me to fuck you against the front door or bend your bratty ass over the back of the sofa, I suggest you tell me now.” Seungcheol’s tone left no room for arguments, voice deep and rough in the way that you’d had fucking dreams about since the first time you heard him use it on a stream. In the way that never failed to leave you wet and wanting. Now, wanting and soaked as you already were, it was near to painful. 
Releasing your hold on one of his arms, you gestured toward your bedroom door. You let out a choked gasp when he stepped forward and you had to step backwards, the movement of his body guiding yours toward the room. 
“Are you really going to– ?” What? Put you over his knee? Spank you? 
The very idea of Seungcheol’s hand on your ass made warmth bloom in your cheeks, made your insides twist in the most enticing, tempting ways. Because he had been right when he said you liked to get a reaction out of him. The part of you that got a thrill out of him being all authoritative and in control and wanted to be naughty as much as you wanted to be praised was desperately attentive right in that moment.
Your back met the closed door to your bedroom and you inhaled sharply as you found yourself pinned between the hard wood and Seungcheol. He hummed softly, nuzzling the crook of your neck, setting the gentlest of kisses there and you felt yourself relax into it, tilting your head to the side to bare more of your neck for him. His lips curved into a smile, fingers slipping into your hair, gripping it and holding your head there as he sucked hard at the skin you’d so-helpfully exposed to him, pulling a breathy whine from you as he marked you.
He groaned and the hand at your waist squeezed.
“Cheol,” you breathed, sliding your arms around his shoulders and a hand into the hair at his nape. Pressing closer. Pulling him closer. 
“I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to do, princess,” he said as he brought his head up and caught your gaze briefly. Reassuring even as it challenged. The arm around you dragged your body away from the door and he spun you to face it, pressing your breasts into the wood and his lower body against your bottom. He let out a soft chuckle when you pushed back against him, a low growl when you ground your ass into his cock. “Want that, don’t you?”
You nodded, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder as you continued to grind back against him. “Uh– Uh huh.”
“I know you do,” he cooed then before pulling his hips back. You opened your mouth to complain but his palm landed against your ass and you couldn’t bite back a gasp, the swat a sharp sting that went straight to your cunt and you shuddered, squirming in response. 
He squeezed the cheek, soothing and somehow magnifying the heat, causing it to further spread through your body, your veins.
“Thought you said you weren’t going to spank me,” you commented breathlessly, even as you pressed into his touch. The sting having faded, shifted, morphed into just more…want. 
“Said I wasn’t going to do anything you didn’t want, princess.” His hand slid up your ass and to your hip, fingers digging into you, a silent reminder of his strength. Jesus, his strength that you’d never given a second of thought to until you didn’t know who you were looking at. Until you knew who he was in ways you shouldn’t. Until he’d picked you up and carried you to bed the night before. 
You squeezed your eyes shut, as if you could block out the force of your need for the man. “You’re so,” you started, having to suck in another shallow breath when his teeth grazed along the line of your neck, “presumptuous.”
Seungcheol chuckled. “Attentive. That’s the word you’re looking for there.” 
You scoffed but you further settled back against him as he twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, body a gentle pressure against the back of yours as he continued to guide you into the room. 
When you both stood by the foot of your bed, he slid his arm from around your waist, hand catching yours. “Turn around for me,” he directed you softly.
Turning around because you wanted to – definitely not because he told you to – you found his eyes with yours. His, determined and still burning so hot that it was a wonder it didn’t scald you. Yours, questioning, likely also heated and conveying exactly how much you wanted him. No more hiding and, in fact, reveling in the openness between you. 
Seungcheol’s gaze lowered, deliberately slow as he took in the sight of you, from head to toe: breath coming in shallow pulls, shifting restlessly from foot to foot, doing your very best not to fidget further under his scrutiny. Doing your very best not to tug him into you, fall back onto the bed behind you, and drag him with you. 
“So many things I want to do to you, princess,” he said, palm pressed to your belly and sliding up your torso to trace along your clavicle. His hand found your neck, encircling it, using the gentle hold to tip your head back. “Especially when you look at me like that, fuck.”
“How am I looking at you?” You swallowed thickly, the action rendering you even more achingly aware of the vulnerable position in which he had you. In which you allowed him to have you. The positions in which you wanted him to have you.
His lips curled at a corner and you knew he could tell, that he could see you. “Like you want me to ruin you. It’s beyond just letting me, isn’t it?” he purred. “My needy princess. If I were feeling mean, I’d make you beg for it.”
Jesus Christ. You almost wanted to hiss at him like a feral fucking cat. Or scratch him. For saying shit like that and looking at you with such a cocky expression, knowledge and self-satisfaction burning alongside the lust in his eyes. 
For being right. 
For teasing you. 
“I –” You started to tell him that you would beg when hell froze over, but you remembered him withholding permission to come more than once, with other viewers, with you, for doing so. The thought of him edging you right now – punishing you really – sounded excruciating. Next time, you told yourself. Next time, you would make him make you beg. Would prove to yourself that you could hold out. Right now, you just wanted him. 
“You need me to say it? Wanna hear me admit that I want you?” Your fingers caught hold of the bottom hem of his shirt and gathered the fabric into fists as you fought against instinct that urged you to keep at least some of your cards close to your chest. “I wanted you even when I wasn’t supposed to, Cheol. I dreamed about you the first time I saw your stream. Didn’t even know it was you, but I think you called me princess in that one.” 
The sound he made may as well have been a growl. It could have been a warning, but you sucked in a breath and continued, determined to give as good as you got and to rile him up as much as he was doing you. 
Keeping your gaze locked on his, you let your hands slide to his shoulders, over his chest. Down, down, a barely-there touch on his abdomen, until you could feel the belt he was wearing through the cotton of his shirt. Until you pushed the hem of his shirt up and brought your fingers to the fastening of the belt. “I’ve been wet since the car and all I can think about is what it felt like to be full of you.”
It was definitely a growl Seungcheol let out then, the hand in your hair tightening its grip and his other hand coming to cover yours on his belt. “I swear to fucking God.” Dark eyes bore into yours. “You wanna be full of me, princess?”
You nodded, literally throbbing at the idea of him inside you again. Finally. 
“Then you’re gonna need to take my cock out, aren’t you?” The hand covering yours moved to the neck at the back of his shirt, pulling it up and off of him, and he arched an eyebrow at you as he let it fall to the floor at his feet. “First time taking off a belt?”
Actually, you’d been distracted as hell by the sight of his naked torso – something you were never going to get used to seeing up close. To touching, Jesus. But also floored at his casual delivery of the first question and wrapping your head around why you liked it so much. 
Mentally shaking yourself, you ignored the heat you felt spreading across your cheeks, instead opening said belt deliberately roughly. Purposefully tugging hard on one end to slip the belt through the loops on his pants, smiling serenely up at him once it was out and you dropped it next to you. “Like that?” 
He narrowed his eyes, but the twitch of his lips belied his humor. “You are such a fucking brat.”
You grinned, popping the button of his jeans open, then sliding the zipper down. “I know, but you like me anyway, soooo. What does that say about you?” 
“Two things.” Seungcheol leaned in to brush his lips against yours, then captured your lower lip between his teeth and gave it a slight tug before releasing it, smiling at the breathy whimper you let out. “One, I’m never gonna know a moment’s peace. Two, I must really like you.”
There went the butterflies in your belly again. Damn the man. Except not really because you liked that swoopy feeling. 
“Yeah?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Maybe you just have a thing for brats,” you teased. “Have you seen someone about that? Because it seems like that could maybe be not great.”
He chuckled and nipped at the skin beneath your jaw. “Fishing for compliments or trying to ask about my dating history without actually asking?”
“I wasn’t – I didn’t – no?” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
You felt him smile against you and saw the quirk at the corner of his mouth still there when he lifted his head. “I have a thing exclusively for you, princess,” Seungcheol said then, forehead pressed to yours. “Whatever mood you’re in.”
“That’s really good because I am seriously terrible at sharing.”
“I know,” he acknowledged, voice low and rough. “Likewise. Now, you gonna kneel and let me fill that pretty mouth of yours with my cock or are you gonna lie back, so I can get my mouth on your cunt? I bet you’re aching for some relief by now.”
Your knees made the decision for you, going gelatinous before he’d even finished speaking, the free fall only stopped by his quick reflexes, hands catching your upper arms and slowing your descent. He cursed and cupped the back of your head once you settled in front of him, fingers finding purchase in your hair. “Wanna suck me off that bad, huh?”
“Yeah,” you admitted, biting at your bottom lip, and keeping your eyes on his. Reaching into his jeans, you carefully took him out, slipping his cock through the opening in his boxers and tracing your fingertips along the length of him. You’d barely had the chance to touch him the night prior, too desperate to have him buried as deep inside you as he could get, for him to drive his cock into you until you forgot why you weren’t supposed to want it. 
Now, though, you could touch and tease and taste to your heart’s content. 
He hissed, fingers in your hair fisting, tightening his grip just enough for you to feel the pull and gasp. You wrapped your hand around him, giving the shaft a slow stroke, and brought your other hand up to brace yourself on his thigh. Another slow stroke. Another and you leaned in, nuzzling against him where his other thigh met his pelvis, quite honestly glorying in the tension you could feel in his leg, could hear in the hitch of his breath. 
Dragging your lips across his lower abdomen, peppering him with soft kisses, you continued to lazily pump him in your hand, intentionally letting your breath spill out against the tip of his cock as you deliberately passed over it with your mouth. Instead, you pressed your lips against the skin on the other side of his abdomen, your tongue slipping out to lick that same skin before you sucked at it, a sharp pull into your mouth that left the beginnings of a bruise. 
The hand in your hair drew your head away from your ministrations and tilted it back so you were forced to look up into his stormy gaze. “Having fun?” 
Your answering grin would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. “I really am.”
Seungcheol’s soft laugh only made you smile wider and he shook his head. “I bet. Since you seem to be having such a hard time remembering how to suck dick, I’m gonna help you out.”
God, that condescending tone should not turn you on. It shouldn’t. But fuck, it did. You rubbed your thighs together, swallowing hard and nodding. 
“Open,” he prompted you, voice dropping an octave. He cooed when your lips parted, hand in your hair guiding your face forward. His other hand covered yours over his cock, pumping it slowly as he brushed the tip against your lower lip. “That’s it. This is what you wanted, right?”
The needy sound that bubbled up and out of you in that moment would be embarrassing at any other time or in any other situation, but the twinge of shame at just how much power this man whom you used to hate had over you was not enough to stop you from darting your tongue out to taste him. In fact, the shame was washed away by his moan and the fierce fire in his gaze as he stared down at you. 
Took in the sight of you on your knees for him. A sight which you knew hid absolutely nothing of your desire. A sight which, in all actuality, screamed out your want of him: pupils blown, breath coming in sharp, shallow pulls, thighs pressed together in search of friction, arousal spilling from you, dripping down said thighs, and your mouth open and waiting. 
Inviting. Beseeching. 
Seungcheol’s curse was a growl. “Fuck. Gonna kill me, princess.” That strong hand was deceptively gentle when he drew your face further forward, cock slipping into your mouth, sliding across your tongue. When you closed your lips around him and sucked, tongue laving against the underside – teasing at the sensitive spot just under the tip – his head dropped back and you hummed around him. 
You were on your knees and his fingers were still fisted in your hair, gently guiding your mouth over his length – the picture of being in a position of power, but he wasn’t. How could he be when you could feel the way his thigh muscles spasmed beneath your fingertips, the way he had to use every ounce of control he possessed to not just thrust into your mouth, to bury his cock all the way into your throat, the way your name left his lips on a breathy groan as you started to move your mouth on him faster?
As you started to take him deeper, your hand under his pumping what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth, as you continued to suck and lick. Until you pulled your mouth off of him and traced a line down his dick to tease at him beneath the base, gently suckling at the sensitive skin while you let your thumb brush over his tip, teasing at the slit and spreading the precome over the head. 
“Yeah, just like that,” he rasped, hand slipping from beneath yours to cup your jaw, thumb grazing across your lower lip while his dark, hungry eyes met yours as you took him back in between your lips. “Such a good girl for me when you’ve got your mouth full, hm?” 
Letting him slip out of your mouth, you countered, “So nice when you’re getting your dick sucked, hm?” You tried desperately to ignore the full-body shiver that went through you at his words. 
His wolfish smile should have been a warning, but you were too proud of yourself for managing that Grade A comeback in the middle of going down on the hottest dude you’d ever actually known, who was also the biggest pain in your ass ever, to notice. And fine, the larger part of you who just honestly liked the man and got off on getting him off after having to just watch him get himself off for so long, was too into the moment, fully relishing being able to indulge without guilt – without questioning yourself constantly like the night before – to consider how he might take said comeback. 
At least until he was jerking your head away from his cock and stepping back. 
That, you noticed. You frowned. “What –?”
“I can be very nice, princess. Or very mean. Depends on you,” he said with another one of those exasperating smirks, as if that explained anything. 
You watched as he slowly stroked his cock with one hand, the other hand brushing his hair back, and you were fucking jealous of his hands. Which was just ridiculous but it was true. 
Tearing your gaze from the sight of his fingers wrapped around himself, you lifted it to his. “Depends on me…how?” 
Seungcheol brought the hand in his hair to cup your chin and his thumb traced across your lower lip. “It depends on whether you want me to be nice or to be mean,” he said softly, eyes warm, attentive, and charged. 
“What if I want you to be both?” you asked, resting your hands on his thighs and pressing yours together. Challenging him and confessing to him, all at once.
He groaned and the hand at your chin slid to your neck, encircling it with a gentle pressure and forcing your head back. “Then it depends on whether you behave or act up, doesn’t it?”
Jesus Christ. You had literally never wanted anyone more. Nodding, you swallowed hard, the press of his palm against your throat only adding kindling to the lustful fire burning in your core.
“Words, princess.”
“Y–Yes.”
His dark eyes locked on yours. “Stand up,” he instructed. 
You complied, pushing yourself to your feet and standing on unsteady legs in front of him. 
Seungcheol purred, “Good girl,” then ran the back of his fingers over your cheek, a touch you instinctively leaned into. “I need you to do something else for me now, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you sighed, nuzzling into the hand that was now cupping your jaw. “Of course.”
“Strip for me,” he said and you sucked in a breath. “Then lie back on the bed, part those pretty thighs, and show me just how wet that pussy is for me.”
Heat. Scalding heat. It rushed over you like an inferno and you gaped at him. 
His tongue darted out and wetted his lips before they pulled into a smirk. “I bet it’s nice and messy already, isn’t it?”
Oh fuck him. 
Fuck him for being so cocky and bossy and hot and attractive and knowing you well enough to know that you would (at that it was). And fuck you because you were already pulling your shirt up and off, your bra following closely behind. There went your pants. You hesitated with your thumbs in the waistband of your panties, glancing up at him, noting he’d taken a step closer and inhaling sharply at his proximity. 
“Those too, princess. Unless you need my help,” he challenged and all the air left your lungs when he stepped even closer, his hands settling onto yours at either side. “I might not be as gentle with them, though. You want to keep these or should I rip them off of you?” 
Whatever word came out of your mouth in that moment was not an actual word in any language known to man. 
Except apparently Seungcheol because the look he gave you was wicked, right before you felt the fabric snap and fall, panties only held up then by your thighs, still tightly held together. God. You rocked forward on your feet until your front pressed against his chest and his arms came up around you, one hand resting against your lower back and the other caressing its way up your spine. “You,” you said on a gasp, “do not play fair. And you owe me two pairs now.” 
He nuzzled your neck and his breath was warm when he let out a soft chuckle. “If I played fair, I wouldn’t be here with you. I wouldn’t have you trembling in my arms or know that you want me as badly as I want you. Why would I play fair when you like it so much that I don’t?” 
Your fingers dug into his triceps, grounding yourself and stabilizing yourself with the grip on his upper arms. “You…may have a point.” 
You felt him smile against your jaw and the hand at your lower back pulled your hips into his, a low whimper passing your lips as the move had his still bare cock pressed to your naked belly. He groaned and then both hands were at your hips, lifting you, tossing you away from him and onto the bed behind you. Fucking tossing you. As you landed, you bade good riddance to the last vestiges of denial about liking to be manhandled. 
At least by him. 
“I’ll buy you a dozen pairs of panties, princess. Buy you a new pair every day if it means I get to tear them off of you and have you clinging to me.” That damned eyebrow arched at you again when you went to argue the ‘clinging’ point, his hands moving to the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pushing both articles of clothing down his hips. 
The sight of which promptly stopped the denial before it could make it anywhere close to being spoken. Instead, you scooted further back on the bed, settling yourself against the pillows as you watched him. You tangled your hands in the comforter at your sides, lust-stricken gaze focused entirely on the man in front of you. Your breath caught in your throat once the last of his clothing was kicked away and Seungcheol knelt on the foot of the bed. 
God, you wanted him and part of you was still floored at that and at the knowledge that you could have him. That you had him already.
His eyes were dark as his gaze swept up your legs, as it lingered on your bared breasts and the sharp rise and fall of your chest with each shallow breath, as it found yours. “Legs,” he reminded you and you had to squeeze your eyes shut at the force of the need that crashed into you at the pitch of his voice. 
You let your legs fall open, a soft moan spilling from you when Seungcheol’s palms landed on your shins and slid up to your knees, to your thighs. Your eyes flew open when his hands parted your legs further and you felt him slip between them, his knees against the bed on either side of your hips, while he pressed a hand to the pillow next to you. His other hand continued to slide up your body, fingertips tracing up your torso to tease circles over the skin of your breasts, never quite circling close enough to the center to graze against your nipples. 
“Ch-Cheol,” you panted in protest, arching your spine and pushing your chest into his touch. 
“Hm?”
“Stop teasing.” 
Seungcheol cooed. “My poor princess. Tell me what you need.”
Jerk. You glared. “Need you to touch me.”
“I am touching you,” he said. “See?” Seungcheol punctuated the question with a pinch of your nipple, earning a choked gasp from you before he released the swollen bud and palmed your breast, thumb then softly brushing over your nipple. 
Pushing your head back into the pillow, you leaned into his hold, hands clutched at the bedding beside your hips. “Please.”
He smiled and ducked his head to kiss along the line of your throat as he shifted over you. “There’s my polite girl,” he murmured and you felt his breath against your collarbone as his kisses fell still further down your body, “asking so nicely.” You brought a hand up to the back of his head, fisting your fingers in his hair at the first sweep of his tongue against the swell of your breast, and earning a low groan from Seungcheol. 
His tongue flicked over your nipple and he caught the peaked flesh between his teeth, wrapping his lips around it and pulling it into his mouth with a sharp suck that you felt in your cunt. You squirmed, the hand in his hair tightening, a whine pouring out from between your lips as the hand that had been on your breast dropped to your thigh and squeezed, thumb pressing into the line where your thigh met your pelvis, sliding against skin slick with your desire. 
He hummed around your breast, releasing your nipple to lave at it with his tongue before sucking a mark into the flesh of your breast. Seungcheol shifted his hand and drew his thumb through your folds, a slippery slide from your entrance to your swollen clit and then back down. “Love how wet you get for me, princess.”
You shuddered and whimpered. “Cheol, please.”
“So fucking needy,” he growled, pushing his thumb into your cunt and drawing it back out again to circle around the opening in a tease. “Just for me, right?” 
“You’re– You’re kidding, right?” you managed to gasp out, tilting your hips in silent entreaty. 
An entreaty which he ignored. Instead, he tutted, pulling his hand away entirely and you had to bite down hard on your lower lip to keep in a whine of protest, while he shifted further down on the mattress. “Answer the question.” Bracing his weight on palms on the bed at either side of your waist, he pressed his lips to your belly button as his eyes – so dark they may as well be black – bore into yours. 
“God, you’re so –” Annoying. He was annoying, but his shoulders were between your thighs, then, holding them open while he trailed kisses down your lower abdomen. One hand fell to your knee and he pushed your leg up, pushed it out, then his mouth was pressing into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teeth grazing it and tongue slipping out to trace up the inside of your thigh. “Oh, fuck,” you said on a soft moan. “Y-Yes, Cheol. Only – Just for you.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” His words were a low rumble against your skin and then he was groaning. Seungcheol’s lips covered your cunt, his tongue parting your folds and tasting you, licking at your entrance and drawing your arousal into his mouth, pushing into you and tearing a mewl from you. “Taste so fucking good, princess,” he rasped as he drew back to shift his weight and slid his tongue up your slit to flick at your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. 
Your body jerked and both of your hands clawed at his hair, his shoulders, his name falling from your lips in a choked gasp. 
He hummed and the vibrations against your clit while he continued to lap and suck at the sensitive flesh, made your head spin. Made you shiver and whimper, body restless beneath his ministrations, forcing him to hold your hips down with a palm on your belly. And Jesus, you loved that even more. Loved that he held you down and just made you take the pleasure he was giving you. 
You whimpered and felt him smile against you. 
The hand not holding your hips to the bed had a vise grip on your thigh and you wanted to feel the imprint of his fingers tomorrow. The next day and the next. So you told him as much, which earned you a breathy curse, choked as it was in a mirthless laugh against your cunt. 
“Yeah? You want me to mark you up, princess?” he murmured, sliding his hand up your thigh and waiting until your gaze met his – until you felt dizzy with the heat you found in his and shuddered, your nails digging into his nape – to slowly drag his tongue through your swollen, slick folds while his hand released your thigh to press a finger into your cunt. His own breath catching at the way your body sucked him in and the needy whine you let out. “Fuck, yeah, you do. Wanna know I’ve been here. Touching you like you’re mine because you are. Want this, too, don’t you?”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fucking fuck fuck. You wanted – what you wanted was – 
“More.” That much you knew and could articulate. “Want more, Cheol.”
“I’ll give you more, sweetheart,” he promised, doing just that as he gave you another finger and started pumping them both into and out of you, curving them until they dragged against the spot that left you hissing and bucking with each pass. “Give you anything.” Seungcheol flattened his tongue and circled your clit with it, groaning at the way you writhed. “Everything.”
You nodded, swallowing thickly and covering the hand on your abdomen with one of yours, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing as you fought to keep your gaze on him, on the hungry, scalding, possessive, fucking tender look in his while his mouth and fingers drove you closer to the edge. “Want t-that. Want all of y-you,” you admitted before throwing your head back, unable to keep your eyes open anymore. Your brows pinched together and you bit your lower lip, struggling to swallow back the desperate sounds threatening to spill from your mouth. 
“Nuh uh,” he said in a growl. “Let me hear you fall apart for me, princess. Gonna see and hear and fucking taste it.” The fingers thrusting into you then were three and he fucked you with them harder while he sucked at your clit and his tongue pressed more firmly against it as he moved it on you faster. 
Driving you up the goddamned wall. 
In a straight shot into a climax that you couldn’t fight any more than you could bite back the moans of his name or curses or pleas or even – Fuck your mouth, honestly, the damned betrayer – a choked “thank you” as the orgasm slammed into you. The only thing keeping you from floating away was his strong palm, still pressed to your body and holding you in place. 
Vaguely, you were aware of the rush of arousal that left you, coating his face with you, spilling over your bedding and soaking the fucking fabric in a way that you were going to bemoan later when you needed to sleep. 
His tone was pleased – so pleased and proud of himself – and as rough as you’d ever heard it when he spoke your name then. Muttered about what “a good girl you are for me,” and cooed, “that’s it.” Told you how “fucking hot you are, shit, princess,” as he drew back to cover your torso with soft kisses and gentle nips while he made his way back up your body.
You would be mortified that he was able to work your body like that if you weren’t so thunderstruck by that he was able to. If you weren’t still boneless and breathless, arms automatically coming up to encircle his shoulders, instinctively curving your neck to bare it to him for more of those delicious, addicting brushes of his lips and swipes of his tongue. 
“Cheol, Jesus,” you breathed. 
“Mm. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, the hand not holding his weight petting your side, from your thigh to your ribcage. Soothing touches while you waited for your brain to come back online and for your body to stop shaking with aftershocks. 
Eventually, your brain did even if your body hadn’t quite, and you carded your fingers through his hair, bringing his head up and drawing his lips to yours. You let out a happy little hum at the taste of yourself on him and the way he hissed when your lower bodies brushed against each other. The hard jut of his cock against your pelvis and the harsh grip he took of your hip as he rested his forehead on yours reminded you that you weren’t done and that he wanted – needed – you as much as you wanted and needed him. 
You lifted your legs to wrap around his waist and your eyes rolled back as the action brought his bare cock to your cunt and he ground into you, the slide made easy, so easy, by the wetness that still coated you and slipped from you. He cursed and buried his face in the crook of your neck, teeth catching your skin and biting down gently when you moaned his name. 
“Ch-Cheol, God, I want – please. Need you inside me. Wanna be full of you.”
“I know you do. Fuck, I need that, too.” Seungcheol pushed himself up enough that he could look down at you, gaze meeting yours as he rolled his hips again, both of you gasping at the drag of his cock through your folds. “Let me go get a condom,” he gritted out even as he rocked against you once more. 
You mewled, arching into him. Clawing at his shoulders. “Do you want – Are you clean?” 
Eyes so dark they were nearly black bore into you at that and his voice was a rasp. “Yeah, princess. I’m clean. You? You on something?” 
Your next breath was sharp and you couldn’t look away, trapped by the force of his gaze. “Uh, yeah, I have an IUD and obviously, I got checked out after I found out James cheated. I’m goo–” His mouth on yours swallowed the rest of your words, tongue sliding along yours, lips crushed to yours, stealing the remainder of your breath before pulling back to let you both gasp for air. 
“James is such a fucking idiot. His loss,” Seungcheol murmured, brushing his nose against yours, his hold shifting from your hip to the back of your thigh, fingers digging into the muscle there while he hitched your leg higher up his torso. “My gain. You gonna let me fuck you raw, princess? Fill you all the way up with me?” he practically growled before biting at your lower lip. “That what you want?”
Every nerve in your body lit up at his words and the way he was circling his hips, grinding the underside of his dick against your clit in a way that left you clinging to his shoulder blades and doing your best to rock up into him. “Jesus Christ, Cheol. You can’t – can’t say shit like that!” 
He grinned and let out a puff of breathy laughter, tilting his hips to nudge at your entrance with his cock. Short, shallow rocks of his hips teased you with what you both wanted and you pouted up at him. You fucking pouted. “Like it too much, huh?”
“I hate you,” you grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your head back into the pillow, legs tightening around his body in an effort to silently encourage him to stop teasing you and just fuck you already. 
The roughness in his voice when he swatted at your ass was dizzying. “That’s not very nice, princess. Why don’t you answer the question instead of trying to lie to me?”
The question. Questions. There had been several of them, hadn’t there? Each one purposefully uttered to devastate you, the stupid, annoying, attractive, smart, endearing  (endearing???), intoxicating man who knew exactly which buttons to push. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes, okay,” you said finally, reluctantly, impatiently. “Yes to all of the questions, Seungcheol.”
His response in turn was to let out a shaky breath and press his hips forward, cock at your entrance pushing into you, filling you up exactly as you’d wanted. He didn’t stop until his pelvis was flush to yours and a roll of his hips had him grinding against your clit, tearing a soft gasp of his name from you. 
You shuddered, clenching around him, and tangled a hand in his hair to tether yourself, the sharpest of pleasure sparking through you at the sensation of him buried deep inside you without any barriers between the two of you. His breath fanned out over your face, warm and unsteady, and another wave of want rolled over you at the way his features were pinched – his brows pulled together, lips pursed, jaw tight – while he held himself over and inside you. The moment felt intimate, so intimate, and you wanted to drown in it. 
In him.
In the sexual heat and the tenderness that made your heart flutter in your chest when his eyes opened and met yours, all walls fallen away, lying in metaphorical pieces at your feet. Naked need was there, yes, but also the affection that he’d kept hidden from you all this time. You bit at your bottom lip, sucking it into your mouth as you let yourself take it in. Forced yourself not to hide from it or question it. 
Then he drew his hips back and slid out of you, only to reach down and guide the tip of his cock to your clit, circling it, teasing and tempting and excruciating. “Ch-Cheol,” you warned — whined? 
Forehead pressed to yours, he placed a kiss on your mouth, then was sliding into you again, giving you every inch. Every bit of him until he bottomed out, pulled back, then rocked forward, filling your aching, needy, greedy cunt with his cock. His words were low and warm, rough, spoken against your lips. “There you go. S’what you needed, right? Fuck, you feel so goddamned good, taking me so well.” 
You nodded, fingers fisting in his hair and your other hand clawing at his sweat-slicked back, and bucking your hips up to meet him.
“Such a good girl for me, get so wet and always ready to take my cock, hm?” he said, grunting as he snapped his hips on his next thrust, pleasure punching into you with the sharp movement and the wet slap that sounded at the impact of his skin against yours. “Listen to that. You hear it?” He punctuated the question with another, then another harsh snap of his hips into yours and you felt heat flaming in your cheeks, radiating through you at the lewd sounds echoing in the room with each one.
Seungcheol started to find a rhythm, driving himself into you, leaving your head spinning and you couldn’t. stay. still. Your legs squeezed his waist and your pussy clenched around him, a desperate contraction to keep him in you and feel every inch, every drag and pull against your inner walls. You couldn’t bite back a moan – you tried to swallow it and the way your lips wrapped around his name, the way both spilled from your mouth reedy, breathlessly, a plea and a question and a demand. 
In response, he groaned your name into the curve of your neck, a hand cupping your ass, slipping to the back of your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he hitched your hips against him and dragged you up onto his thighs as he knelt between yours, lifting you into his thrusts. Stars bursting behind your eyelids as the actions had his cock hitting you just right, you gasped. Writhed. Arched your neck and held his face to your neck, sucking in a sharp breath when his teeth caught your skin. 
You wanted to drown in him and for him to drown in you. You were drowning in him. “Please, please, please. Cheol, please.”
“Beg so prettily,” he growled and you heard the hitch in his own breath, felt him shudder above you as he rutted into you, as he gave you more of him. “I’ve got you, princess.” 
“I know you d-do. Just – I just –” 
Words got tangled up in the back of your throat – or maybe they didn’t even make it that far, maybe they were stuck in your brain, twisting and twining around each other until you couldn’t tease out what you wanted to say. What you needed to say. You just knew that you needed. Needed this, needed more, needed him. 
Needed Seungcheol. 
Which was ridiculous because he was literally inside of you. His broad body was covering yours, surrounding you and filling you. His harsh breaths spilled out against your neck and lips pressed to the hollow of your throat. At least until he lifted his head so he could look down into your eyes, hand releasing your thigh to gently encircle your neck, his thumb catching your jaw and tilting your face toward his. Irises swallowed by his pupils, Seungcheol’s eyes were nearly black as they studied you. 
As they watched the way your lashes fluttered and you bit at your bottom lip, breath coming in gasps while each thrust, each drive of his cock into your cunt had you spiraling. Drove you closer and closer to the sharp edge of bliss. Your fingers in his hair clutched at it as if the grip could keep you from falling beneath the rapidly rising waters of…what? Of your want for him and your feelings for him? 
That steady, searching, scalding gaze seemed to miss nothing. Of all people in the world, it was Seungcheol who saw you and somehow knew you on the most terrifyingly, liberating, and comfortingly intimate level. This whole time. The whole time you’d been with his best friend, he’d been watching you, seeing you, wanting you. His eyes flared with understanding and fucking tenderness, and it was your heart that felt caught in a vise in that moment.
“I’m here,” he spoke softly then. “I’ve got you and m’not goin’ anywhere.” He pressed his lips to yours, hissed against them, and slid the hand at your throat down your torso, drew those dangerous fingers of his along the front of you until they slipped between your legs to your clit. 
You sucked in a breath, nodding, brushing a kiss against his lips. “Good, because – ‘cause I’m not gonna l-let you. Keeping – keeping you.” You pressed another kiss against his cheek where that devastating dimple would be if he smiled and oh, he did. He did and you were so fucking smitten with the man. Smitten and whining because he also chose to start rubbing at your clit in that moment, while his hips snapped and he pounded into you. “Oh fuck. Cheol.”
Seungcheol groaned and you thrilled at the sound, at the sight of his oh-so-pleased, self-satisfied, knowing smile. “My possessive princess. You’ve – shit – you’ve got me, too.” 
Your body twisted itself into the best sort of knots at the words and with each breath he took, each drive into you, every swirl of his fingers against your clit. Tension built and built and built, and you were right there at the edge of everything. 
“Let go for me, sweetheart. Show me I’m yours by coming on my cock, hm? Make me nice and messy. Let me feel it.” His words were a rasp and you were going to die. You were. 
Let the goddamned tidal wave overtake you because you couldn’t – couldn’t take it, couldn’t hold it back, couldn’t do anything except own the fact that yeah, he fucking was yours. (You might actually have said that then, the words a soft exhalation against his lips while your gaze was locked on his and you drowned in the force of the emotion there, the challenge and the pride and the lust and the possessiveness of his own, the warm affection underlying it all). 
“That’s it,” he purred, and you let yourself be swept away by the full force of that wave of want and need that coalesced into overwhelming bliss as your climax hit. Let yourself tremble and cling to him, cunt pulsing around his cock, earning you a curse, a growl of your name, and a harsh kiss. A bruising kiss broken only by the need to breathe. 
Desperate pulls of air into your lungs as your body shook beneath him and you felt him holding himself tense above you while he watched you ride out your orgasm, while he slowed the motions of his fingers and instead ground his pelvis into yours, slow rolls to draw out your pleasure. Sensitive. You were so sensitive. Whimpering, you gave him a questioning look as you tried to make your brain – your ability to words – come back online. 
Seungcheol’s forehead pressed to yours and his brows pinched together, his teeth gritted as he held himself back. “Until all you know is me, right?”
What – he was saying. It took several moments for you to put it together and when you did, his name left you in a whoosh. “Y-Yeah.”
“Not gonna run away this time, though, are you? Gonna let me keep my promise?” 
Fuck. 
A flash of guilt swept through you and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him even closer, until his chest was pressed flush to yours and you could feel each others’ chests rising and falling with breaths, the beat of one another’s hearts. That was on you. A lot of the messiness between you had been on him, but that – running away – had been on you, despite the fact that he said he understood. You cradled the back of his head, fingernails gently grazing his scalp. 
“I’m not going anywhere, either, Cheol. I was serious when I said I’m keeping you, so you’re, you know, stuck with me.” 
He hummed, dark eyes boring into yours. “Good,” he said lowly, echoing your earlier words. His hips, that had been doing that slow, teasing grind into you, drew back and then he pushed them forward, a deep thrust that you could swear you felt in your throat. He repeated the action and you bit back a gasp. 
“Also, I mean, we’re at my apartment, so running away would be kind of pointless, wouldn’t it?” 
His eyes flashed with a familiar challenge and you couldn’t help the soft, shameless laugh that bubbled up and out of you. “Smartass.” 
Your laugh turned into a choked whimper when his next thrust and the next and the next were hard, fast, and stealing the breath from you. “Drive me fucking crazy,” he growled as he found his rhythm, a hand fisting in your hair and tilting your head back to bare your neck to his mouth, to his teeth. 
“L-Likewise,” you admitted, arching up into him. Inviting him to take and take. Demanding he do it, honestly. Needing him to lose himself as you had before. You were game to only know him but fair was fair and you wanted to be all he knew.
Seungcheol nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin of your throat while his hips snapped into yours. Again and again and again.
Until you were clawing at his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, letting out breathy whines and whimpers and gasps of his name, of, “Please” and, “Don’t stop, God, don’t ever stop.”
His fingers gripped your hips tightly enough to bruise then he was sitting up, dragging you up with him and into his lap. Lips crashing into yours, covering yours, sucking them into his mouth and dragging his teeth over them, each pull on them sending a pulse of heat to your core. Seungcheol drove his cock up into you, the hold at your sides guiding you up and down over his length, cooing at you when you tore your mouth from his to catch a breath and buried your face in his neck. 
He released one of your hips to wrap an arm around your torso, hand finding the back of your head and petting you – fucking petting you, which you actually really, really liked, goddamn it – as you clung to his shoulders and felt yourself spiraling. Rushing toward another crest, each upward drive of him into your cunt ratcheting up the tension within you. This time, it was even better, though, because you could hear the way his breathing was unsteady and feel the way his rhythm faltered. 
You could hear the desperate need in the roughness of his voice as he promised not to stop, never to stop, and told you how much he had wanted this, wanted you, that could never get enough. That you were his and he was yours and he’d show you “every fucking day,” so you “never forget how goddamned beautiful, how fucking precious” you were. You felt the tightness of the muscles in his back while he sped toward that inevitable bliss point with you. 
“Cheol, Cheol, Cheol.” His name fell from your lips again and again. “Close.” You were panting at that point, your own teeth catching the skin where his shoulder met his neck as you bit back another whine. “Need to – need to feel you. Want you to – want you to feel good, too.”
“Fuck,” he hissed when you clenched around him. “Already do, fuck, I already do. Feel so fuckin’ good squeezing my cock like that, princess.” His fingers fisted your hair as he bucked up into you, hand at your hip shifting to again find your clit and give you the friction you needed. “Tell you what,” he said in a groan. 
“A-Anything,” you agreed, nodding, knowing your answer would be the same no matter what his next words were. You swallowed hard and writhed, nails digging into his back, as you fought to maintain focus, to hear what he needed to say. 
“Be the good girl I know you can be – my good girl – and come.” 
You would. You really would. But you wanted him to –
“You do that and I’ll fill you up with my come. Until it’s dripping from you and you never doubt again that you’re mine.”
Jesus. Christ. 
You could no more stop yourself from doing exactly as instructed than you could stop your heart from its next beat. Filthy. The mental image was filthy and sexy and you wanted it to be reality, wanted it deep in your bones. It was your turn to growl, then: his name into his neck while you shattered into delicious, floaty, blissed out pieces. 
His voice was a rasp in your ear when he felt you falling apart around him, every muscle in your body spasming and you were shaking, shuddering, the only thing holding you in place was him. His strong arms around you. The force in his grip at your shoulders as he held you down while he fucked into you once, twice, three times, and then he was done. It was him shuddering and shaking, clutching you to his body while spilled himself inside of you and moaned your name into the air, into your ear, against your lips as his mouth covered yours. 
You both held tightly to each other in that moment. In the next and the next. Another rush of pleasure lapped at you at the feeling of him being buried deep inside and further still while his come did, indeed, drip from you when he pulled out. Your come, his come – the both of you were a mess and you definitely were going to need to change the sheets before you went to bed, but you didn’t care. (Actually, that was a lie. You cared, but did so in the sense that you loved it, loved the way it was tangible evidence of what had happened, of what it signified. And yes, okay, a purely primal part of you thrilled at knowing Seungcheol was drenched in you. And fine, that same part of you thrilled at knowing you were – not drenched in him, exactly, but that you were full of him.)
Your forehead dropped to his shoulder and his hands tenderly brushed over your back, softly rubbing up and down along the line of your spine. A quiet, contented sigh left you then, a gentle rush of air against his skin. One of his hands came to cradle the back of your head and you felt his lips press to your temple, heard as well as felt him speak your name in that deep voice that was so filled with warmth and affection it made your breath catch and your arms around him tighten. 
“Thank you,” he said with another brush of his lips to your temple.
“For what?” you asked, trying to work out whether the man was actually thanking you for having sex with him or there was something else you’d missed. 
He smiled – you could hear it in his voice as much as you could feel the curl of his lips against your skin. God, you were smitten. “You want a list?”
Pulling back so you could look at him, your own mouth pulled into an answering smile. “There’s enough for a list?”
“Oh, definitely.” 
“Really? Well hell. Yeah, I want the list!”
“Mm, you want it in alphabetical or chronological order?”
“Cheol.”
“Hm?”
You just looked at him.
He grinned, letting out a breath of laughter. “For finding my stream and watching. For not being able to stay away even once you figured out who I was. For turning on the audio on our private stream. For giving me the chance to explain. For listening. For forgiving me.” The last, he said while he pressed his forehead to yours. His dark, now so serious eyes locked on yours, trapping your gaze so you couldn’t look away, couldn’t hide or miss the sincerity in his. 
It was a lot, being so close to him, being so bare for him and having him be so emotionally laid bare for you in turn. Those butterflies in your belly were out of control. “For the sex?”
“Princess.” 
“What?”
He lifted a brow.
You squirmed.
“It feels really weird to say ‘You’re welcome’ for masturbating while watching you get yourself off on camera.”
The noise he made was choked. 
“It does!” you said in a laugh, inordinately proud of yourself for causing him to make that sound. 
“Maybe, but I would’ve been very sad if you didn’t touch yourself while watching me.” 
“So needy!” 
Seungcheol’s gaze dropped to take in the sight of you, still wrapped around him where you sat, basically in his lap. Still a fucking mess. He looked oh-so-pleased at the sight once his eyes found yours again, and you felt the heat bloom in your cheeks under his knowing perusal. “What’s that saying about the pot and kettle?”
“...no comment.” 
“Now, you have no comment? That’s convenient,” he teased, chuckling when you swatted the back of his shoulder in response. 
Pursing your lips, you narrowed your eyes at him. “You. Hush.”
Seungcheol shifted on the bed, moving toward the edge and bringing you with him, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he did so. “Yes, your highness.” 
You sputtered, yelping and clinging to Seungcheol when he stood from the bed, lifting you up as he did so. Briefly – for half a second – your life flashed before your eyes until you remembered the man had carried you to bed just like that the night prior and hadn’t dropped you. Still… “What are you doing?” 
“I’m taking you with me to clean up this time,” he replied breezily. Which, given that he was carrying you as he walked toward the door to your bedroom, was impressive. Not one grunt of exertion. Jesus. “Where’s your bathroom?”
—-------------------------
You were going to have dreams of Seungcheol with water from the showerhead raining down on him, streams of water rolling down his body, highlighting every muscle and the long stretch of his torso, sliding down, down, down. Down that toned abdomen, dripping into his belly button before droplets escaped to fall further, tracing paths along those thick thighs and strong calves. The complete lack of any fucks from him when your gaze caught on his cock, hard again, sharply jutting up into the space between the two of you. Rather, your dreams were going to be filled with the flash of daring in his gaze when you forced yourself to stop ogling him. 
Or Jesus, the tenderness in his touch as his hands drew the soap over your body and worked the shampoo into your hair. The graze of his fingernails against your scalp when he conditioned your hair and rinsed it. The open adoration in his eyes when you returned the favor and the soft squeezes of his hand at your hips while you did so. The memory of steam rising up to surround the both of you and cocoon you in a world of your own all the while.
Either or both (definitely both) were going to linger in your conscious and unconscious and you couldn’t even be mad because you were so bowled over by the experience. You wanted to do it all over again and lose yourself in it before he even finished turning the water off.
It was a miracle you managed to only get sidetracked once. Seriously, you dared anyone to be able to make it through a shared shower with Seungcheol without finding themselves with their back pressed to the slippery wall, leg hitched around Seungcheol’s hip, Seungcheol’s low grunts and soft, dizzying praise and titillating taunts breathed into their ear, while he fucked them into a state of bliss. It was not possible. It wasn’t. 
Eventually, though, the two of you were clean and dry. You had changed into comfy pajama shorts and a tank top, and you’d offered Seungcheol an old t-shirt and pair of sweats that James had left at some point. Seungcheol had grimaced when he realized what you were holding out to him, staring at the items of clothing as if they’d personally affronted him then looking up at you questioningly. 
“Just how much of his stuff did he ‘accidentally’ leave here?” 
“A…normal amount of stuff?”
He scowled then, scoffing, and muttering something about, “A normal amount of stuff is no stuff.” Looking around your bedroom as if your ex’s things would be scattered out in the open, as if trying to decipher what of the clutter might belong to his best friend. Former best friend? Were they still best friends? That could be awkward but it was not your problem. “When I leave, I’ll take it with me. I will personally return all of James’ things to him.”  
“Oh, will you?” 
“Yes.” The look he gave you as he tossed the sweats and t-shirt to the floor in favor of sliding his own jeans back up his legs and his own shirt over his head – well, if he were anyone else, you would call it a pout. 
It took everything in you to keep a straight face. To not coo at the man. He was adorable. 
“Are you actually jealous right now?” you asked.
“Jealous? No.” Seungcheol’s fingers encircled your wrist and he tugged you into him, a cocky slant to his mouth when you allowed yourself to be drawn toward him and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting against him. “Fighting the sudden urge to buy fucking couple’s shirts, of all things, and parade around town with you in them, yes. That, or hire one of those planes that pulls a banner behind it.”
Okay, that was just – the giggle that bubbled up and out of you was irrepressible, as was the warmth that bloomed in your chest. “Okay, so you’re not jealous; you’re just feeling super possessive. Totally different things,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his chin. 
He shrugged but you saw his lips twitch. “Exactly.” Those same lips brushed against yours. You felt them twitch this time, as he continued. “Although, honestly, if you wear anything other than turtle necks for the next week, I don’t think the couple’s shirts are necessary.”
Your hands flew up to your neck and you gaped at him. You’d known he was leaving some marks, but – “Exactly how many hickies did you give me, you damned vampire?” 
His face transformed, devastating dimples both on display, and his laugh was warm as he wound his arms around you. “No more than you gave me, Akasha.”
“I – Wait, was that a Queen of the Damned reference?”
Another laugh, an even broader grin, then you found yourself being guided to the living room and settling with him on the couch. He tucked you into his side and you snuggled closer. Oddly enough, the two of you agreed on what to watch with minimal fuss. It was easy – so easy – the way you found yourselves curled up with each other, Seungcheol grabbing the throw off the back of the couch and wrapping it around you. 
The hours flew by with shared commentary on the drama: the two leads were dripping in sexual tension and at some point, someone was going to plant a kiss on the other in the middle of an argument. You were sure it would happen sooner rather than later, but Seungcheol suggested they were stubborn enough and oblivious enough to drag it out as long as possible. Not two episodes later, one main character dragged the other into an embrace, crashing their lips together, and you cackled – Seungcheol looked so betrayed; you were just giddy for being right. 
Seungcheol stayed the night (of course he did). 
You, who normally had trouble sharing your space and bed with a new person, slept like a baby. For the first time in a long time, you weren’t kept up with spinning thoughts about the man lying behind you, thoughts and worries of what to do about him, about your feelings, about the unmitigated disaster that was looming. The truth was out and instead of everything falling apart around you, it was okay. It was more than. Seungcheol’s presence, the warmth of him pressed to your back, and the soft sounds of his breathing – the soft exhalation of air against the back of your neck – was soothing and you drifted off in no time.
—--------------------
The morning after brought with it sleepy smiles and groggy teasing that lead to breathless giggles as you squirmed beneath him, his fingers seeking (and finding unerringly fast) your most ticklish spots. In revenge, you wrapped your legs around his waist and drew him down into you, sending a coquettish smile up at him when he cursed at the unexpected action, at the intimate way you cradled his hips between your thighs. Said smile didn’t last long because what you started, Seungcheol finished. Play sexy games, win sexy prizes apparently.
By the time you dragged yourselves out of bed, the sun had been up for hours. Which meant that the two of you were rushing around to get out the door. You were supposed to be meeting Nari in half an hour and Seungcheol was twenty minutes late for meeting up with the friend he’d started helping move the day prior. 
His hissed, “Shit!” when he noticed the time had startled you at first, breaking your attention away from where you’d been looking through your closet for what to wear and drawing it right to him. The half-dressed, pull his pants on dance he did around your bedroom, all while he muttered apologies to you and swore up and down that what he wanted to do was stay and spend the day with you, was entirely too endearing. 
“Cheol, please don’t trip over your pants and give yourself a concussion. Here,” you said, picking up his shirt from the floor and tossing it over at him. “And it’s okay,” you offered reassurance while you grabbed the first top your hands touched, your glance at the time and his urgency igniting your own. If you could get out of the apartment in ten minutes, you would only be a little late. Nari would forgive you. Probably. No, definitely. She loved you, so she would totally forgive you. “We can do the whole ‘wake up and spend the day together thing’ another time.”
“We’ll do it more than once, princess,” he promised, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. He groaned and set another there. “Fuck, I really wanna stay.” Sighing, Seungcheol stepped back. “Okay. I’m going. I’ll talk to you tonight, though.”
“Yes, you will, now go.”
You didn’t even have time to process the way your heart fluttered at the smile that bloomed on his face before he was rushing out and you were turning back to your closet to pull out the nearest pair of jeans. Five minutes. You had five minutes to get out the door.
Totally doable.
Now, if only you could make it through the next couple of hours with Nari without it being blatantly obvious you were down deep and had spent the night with Seungcheol. Goddamn it, you cursed when you caught sight of yourself in the mirror on your way out. You had a fucking sex glow. 
—----------------------------
It turned out that – to no one’s surprise, least of all yours – Nari knew something was up in the first thirty seconds. Eyebrows knitted in curiosity quickly rose to her forehead, her eyes widened, and a sly smile curved her lips when you couldn’t meet her gaze as you took your seat. 
“Oh-ho! What happened?” she cajoled before making eye contact with the waiter who walked up to the table and asking him to bring another mimosa. He glanced at you for confirmation and, at your nod, moved to do just that. You were more of a bellini woman, but thinking about peach anything right now only made the fire in your cheeks burn hotter. 
While you waited for the waiter to come back with your drink and tried to ignore Nari’s patient, knowing gaze, you did the mental math: the odds of her letting you get away with blowing the question off were slim-to-none. It wasn’t that you didn’t want your friends to know! It was just…new. And God, they were going to give you so much (affectionate) shit. Seriously, the number of times you were going to hear “I told you so” in the near future was astronomical. 
You forced yourself to look at your friend then oh-so-casually spoke while pretending to be very interested in the brunch menu as if you hadn’t been to this exact place and ordered from this exact menu at least a hundred times. “Seungcheol and I talked it out.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her lean forward. “...And?”
“...And we maybe slept together? And he might have stayed over.” 
Her shriek made you wince and look around apologetically at the other diners, but the happy laugh as she scooted her chair around the table to sit next to you pulled a smile from you. “Oh my God, finally.” 
“Finally?”
“Mhm,” she hummed. “Seriously, you two are not subtle.” 
Jaw dropping, you scoffed. “We hated each –” you paused because that wasn’t true, was it? I don’t hate you. I never have. Seungcheol’s words echoed in your head. I’m crazy about you. Have been all along, even when I was acting like a jackass. There was that warmth in your chest again and there were those fucking butterflies in your belly. 
It must have shown on your face because Nari took the menu out of your hand and set it on the table, waiting until she had your full attention before she spoke again, softly. “You really like him,” she stated as fact. As if there were no question. “And I know he likes you. Tell me everything.”
You did, leaving no detail out. 
When Lily got back into town later that day and showed up at your door unannounced, with a wide, eager smile on her face as she pushed past you into your apartment and plopped down on your couch, you laughed. “Hi, Lily! Please, come in. Make yourself at home!”
She just grinned and settled further into her favorite spot on the couch. “Always do,” she said – well, sang, really. “Do you have any idea how hard it was not to text you ten thousand times yesterday? Because it was very hard. I had to make Jeonghan hide my phone from me at one point.“
“Your self control is admirable, really.”
“I know, right?”
“Uh huh. What brings you here again?”
“Nuh uh. Don’t you dare hold out on me! You didn’t kill each other, so you totally banged, right? And since you said there was some talking, you guys admitted you’re both super into each other?”
“Oh my God, Lily.”
Lily patted the cushion next to her. “Sit. Start talking.”
Resigned, you sat down beside her and grabbed your phone off the coffee table. “I’m calling Jess first. I can’t have this conversation two more times.”
She gasped. “You told Nari already, didn’t you?”
You laughed and dodged the pillow she tossed at you. “I had no choice! We had brunch earlier and my face hides nothing; you know this.”
“...Yeah, okay, that’s true. Ugh, fine,” she agreed reluctantly. “Call Jess and tell her to hurry! I need to know what I missed in the last thirty-six hours.”
Twenty minutes after calling her, Jess was there and you were caged between both of your friends as you told them what you’d told Nari earlier in the day. As you admitted that yes, you had feelings for Seungcheol – not just for the version of him that you’d known in the anonymous “phone calls” and messages, but for the man you’d been able to see and know, finally, in person. That they were one and the same and you knew that. You shared with them that Seungcheol confessed to never having hated you, that he’d been trying to look out for you with James since the beginning even if he were intentionally acting like a jackass out of some bizarre logic that only made sense to him in order to hide the fact that he had feelings for his best friend’s girlfriend. 
Lily’s snort in response to that particular piece of information earned her a questioning head tilt from you, to which she shrugged and said Jeonghan had told her as much. At your outraged protest, Jess joined you in staring expectantly at your other friend. Waiting for an explanation or elaboration or both. “You knew?” she directed at Lily.
Lily winced, waving her hands in front of herself. “I would’ve told you if you guys hadn’t talked it out this weekend. Arranging for you to run into each other at Jeonghan’s was sort of the last resort before the actual last resort, which would have been telling you. I wanted you to hear it from him instead of third-hand, from me, but I would have if he didn’t confess, I swear.” 
“I get it,” you said with a sigh and gave her a reassuring nudge with your elbow. “And I’m glad I heard it from him. For one thing, I would’ve found it harder to believe if it was coming from someone else, but also I think I would’ve been more mad if he didn’t just own up to it and apologize before I was, like, confronting him with the truth I’d already been told.”
Jess made a humming sound and when you glanced at her, she smiled wryly. “I barely know the man and I’m not thrilled he chose to be an ass rather than just act like an adult or admit that he was sweet on you so he, you know, was going to try to keep his distance…but it sounds like he at least realizes it was the wrong play and he’s willing to take responsibility for it.”
“I just want you to be happy. If Seungcheol makes you happy, then I’m happy,” Lily said, linking her arm through yours and leaning into your side. 
Jess mirrored the action on your other side and your lips curved into a soft smile as she spoke. “If he makes you unhappy, though, I’m more than happy to kick his ass.”
“Oh God, yeah. That goes without saying.”
You let out a laugh and squeezed the arms of your friends with yours. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” they said against either shoulder. 
“I’m pretty confident it won’t come to that, though. He’s…not who I thought he was.”
“So what’s the plan, then? Are you guys together?” Lily asked from your left.
“The plan,” you started, brows pinching together, “is to uh – I mean, he did say he was crazy about me and that I could keep him? And he may have mentioned wanting to personally return all of James’ leftover things to him. And, um, said something about parading me around while we’re wearing couple’s shirts.”
Jess cackled before she caught herself and you saw her biting back a grin. “Definitely together, then. I would pay actual money to see the look on James’ face when Seungcheol shows up at his door with a box of his shit from your apartment.”
“I’d pay double if I got to watch him react to you and Seungcheol wearing matching shirts.” Lily didn’t even bother trying to hide her wicked smile. “What if we planned a…friendly dinner and forgot to mention to him when we invited him that –”
You cut her off. “No. We are not doing that.” 
“But think of the satisfaction when he realizes–” 
“No.”
“Fine, but if we ever naturally find ourselves in that situation, I’m totally recording it on my phone,” Lily promised and Jess held her hand up in front of you for a high five, which Lily happily gave her. 
“...” 
Not long after that, Nari came over, too. Surrounded by your best friends, you spent the rest of the evening together. Good-natured trolling and teasing was interspersed with food delivery and an impromptu living room dance party, which only ended when the last of you (Jess) finally had to flop onto the floor, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch her breath while everyone else literally applauded her stamina. 
By the time everyone went home, it was too late for Seungcheol and you to get together, but you did manage to sneak in a couple of texts throughout the evening – much to your friends’ amusement – and a bedtime phone call. His sleepy voice over the line was just as devastating last thing at night as it had been when you’d called him at that ungodly hour the day prior. Warm and husky, it was equal parts tempting and soothing, of all things. 
“Don��t use your sex voice on me,” you demanded at some point, lips pursed into a pout at his chuckle in reply. 
“My sex voice? This is my normal voice.” He didn’t even try to hide the humor in his tone. “You sure you don’t just have a voice kink, princess?”
The warmth blooming in your cheeks – and between your legs, goddamn it – spoke volumes, but at least he could neither see nor feel either of those things. “I do not – I don’t have a voice kink!” 
“Mm,” he hummed lowly, and when he spoke again it was an octave lower, for fuck’s sake. “I kinda think you do. Kinda think you also have a kink for being talked through touching yourself and how pretty you sound when you get all breathless and whimpery for me.”
As if to prove his point, you gasped and had to fight the urge to squirm. “That is cheating, sir. You can’t use things you learned as S.Coups against me.”
Seungcheol’s laugh was rough. “Says the woman who just called me ‘sir.’”
Pressing your lips together, biting at the lower, heat pooled in your abdomen. “Oh? Is that what does it for you?” you asked. It was meant to be a taunt and probably could have been, if not for the way air ate up the words, leaving them softer, breathy. 
“You do it for me, highness.”
His easy confession had your heart squeezing in your chest. “Cheol.”
“Yeah?”
“You do it for me, too. Even if you’re still a pain in the ass.” 
You could hear his smile on the other end of the line. “I do it for you in part because I’m a pain in the ass.”
“Seungcheol.”
“Yes, dear?”
“Are you going to talk me through touching myself or continue trying to drive me up the wall?” 
“Fuck,” he hissed, just barely audible enough for your ears. “That’s what you want – for me to get you off like this?”
God, you wanted so many things. More than anything, you wanted him to be there with you right then, wrapped around you, low whispers in your ear while he touched and didn’t just tell you how to. Wanted to fall asleep in his arms again. Whipped. You were so whipped. Glancing at the clock, you let out a soft whine when you saw how late it was. 
Phone sex, it was. Good thing your, uh, whatever Seungcheol was to you, was an expert. 
“Yeah,” you admitted. 
“Say please,” he purred and you found yourself doing exactly that. 
Later, lying in bed while your heart tried to slow itself to a normal rhythm, you forced yourself to ask, “Cheol, are you– are you still–”
A curious, encouraging hum came across the line. “Am I what, princess?”
Despite the fact that your heart was suddenly racing for more reasons that recent orgasms and a big part of you wanted to avoid the subject for fear of no good coming from it, you took a deep breath and made yourself ask the question that had been niggling at the back of your mind since you’d been in bed with him the first time. No, that wasn’t right. Since you’d been on that private stream and he’d called you out for being possessive. 
“Are you still doing, um, streams?”
It was quiet on the other end of the line for several moments and every bit of you that had been relaxed was tense, on-edge. You just had to ask, didn’t you? Of course he was. It was his job! Well, one of them. He had a full-time, daytime job, but that didn’t mean – just because he was sleeping with you and said he had feelings for you, didn’t mean he had or was going to stop. Just because you had feelings for him didn’t mean he was going to rearrange his life.
The two of you were just…sleeping together, after all.
“No,” he finally said after clearing his throat. “I’m not.”
Oh.
Oh.
“You’re not?” 
He was quiet when he answered, but there was no hesitation in his tone. “I’m not. If I’m being honest, it hasn’t been as…fun, I guess? in a while. The stream with you being the exception, obviously. That, I enjoyed immensely.”
“I’d hope so, otherwise I’d have some questions about what just happened,” you said drolly.
A soft laugh came in reply. “I enjoyed this, too. I always enjoy you. And I’m not comfortable sharing myself the way streaming requires when I’m with you. Unless you wanna play pretend; in which case, I’m happy to bring out S.Coups and play the camboy for you. Just say the word.”
Your lips curled up at the corners and you tucked yourself more securely under the covers, slipped an arm under your pillow, as you let relief wash over you. “I’m pretty partial to Cheol, but S.Coups has his charms, so I’ll keep that in mind for someday, maybe.”
“Mm, good because I’m pretty partial to you, too. You sound sleepy. Gonna pass out on me?”
“Mhm.”
“Okay, princess. Sleep well, hm?”
“You, too, Cheol.”
—-------------------------------
The following week was busy. You stayed late at work every day as several projects were coming due and your boss figured the surprise project that the company was given at the last minute was perfect for you. (It was, but still.) Too tired to do anything once you got home except eat whatever junk you could find in your cabinets and fridge, shower, then crawl into your bed, your contact with Seungcheol was limited to texting and sporadic voice notes during the days, and brief, half-asleep conversations over the phone once you did said crawling into bed. 
Despite the fact that you were exhausted, it was nice to hear his voice at the end of the day. His voice that was all full of concern for you and consternation at your boss, followed by reassurances that the week would be over soon and he would take care of you then. Actually, he tried to talk you into letting him come over to cook for you on Thursday. You agreed until you realized you were stuck at work until nine o’clock and wanted to cry with frustration but instead spent far too long drafting a text to cancel at the last minute, apologizing for bailing and promising to make it up to him. On top of being tired, you felt like a flake, which only made you feel worse. 
When the delivery guy dropped by your workplace with dinner, courtesy of Seungcheol, you were pretty sure you were in love. With Cheol, not the delivery driver. 
Obviously.
After leaving the office on Friday, you refused to even think about work for the next two days.
—--------------------------
You were early to the restaurant because you were just so ready to do something that wasn’t work or zombie around your apartment. Deciding to wait at the bar and get a drink rather than grab a table and sit there alone (because it was different, sitting at the bar and chatting with the bartender or munching on bar snacks versus sitting alone at a table – you didn’t make the rules; it just was), you found a free stool and slid up onto it. 
Catching sight of you, the bartender made his way over to you and set a napkin down on the countertop in front of you. “What can I get for you?”
“Can you make a peach daiquiri?” you asked hopefully. The only time you’d ever had a peach daiquiri was that night in the club when Seungcheol ordered one for you, but you had only managed to take one sip. A sip that you’d barely tasted in the midst of your panic, of course, but better late than never.
“Yeah, of course,” he said with a nod. “Give me a sec.”
Someone slid onto the stool next to you, drawing your gaze from where it had been focused on the bartender making your drink. The man was undeniably handsome and smiled at you when your eyes met his. He was also vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place his face. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you answered, lips twitching in an answering smile. 
He gestured to the drink the bartender set down in front of you just then. “So, I know you just got your drink, but can I get the next one?”
“You again,” came a drawl from behind you right before you felt a chest press up against your back and strong arms you knew very well sliding around your waist, a chin dropping to rest on your shoulder. “I thought I told you last time that she’s spoken for.”
Your initial startle at finding yourself draped in Seungcheol, for all intents and purposes, faded into confusion and then realization as you looked at the stranger again. “Oh!” Tall, dark, and dreamy. “You’re the guy from that night.” The night Seungcheol had said you’d always be James’ girl and you’d suggested he ask his friend just why the two of you broke up. 
Mister Tall, Dark, and Dreamy looked between you and the man wrapped around you. “You did, but I remember her saying she wasn’t. Figured I would shoot my shot again, but I guess she is now?” The last, he directed at you, eyebrows lifted in question. 
“Uh, yeah. I am. I wasn’t then, but I am now.” You were babbling. Christ, this was somehow embarrassing and deeply satisfying. You squirmed, but Seungcheol only gave your waist a squeeze and shot the man a cocky smile. 
The other man let out a soft laugh and held his arms up in front of him as he slid off the stool. He gestured at the bartender, motioning toward the other end of the bar, and received a nod. “Message received. I’ll leave you two to it then.”
“Oh my God,” you said once the mystery man walked away, turning your head as best you could to look at Seungcheol, exasperated and endeared. “You’re so – What are you doing?”
He let his hands fall away only to shift to your side and slide one of those arms around your waist, leaning his head in toward yours and locking his gaze on yours as he spoke. “Looking out for my girl, obviously.” 
“Publicly claiming your girl, you mean?”
Seungcheol’s grin was lupine. “Same thing.”
“You guys are seriously so cute. Seriously. I’d be jealous if I weren’t so happy for you both.”
“It’s about time!”
Both you and Seungcheol looked toward the voices only to find Lily and Jeonghan standing there. Lily looked giddy and Jeonghan looked amused. 
“No, but really. I think they’re gonna kick us out if you don’t give your girlfriend some personal space, Cheol,” Jeonghan said, sticking his arm out and slipping it between you and Seungcheol, who cursed and arched an eyebrow at his friend. 
“If they kick me out for holding my girlfriend, then we’ll just have to go someplace else, won’t we? I’ve got months of PDA to make up for,” Seungcheol countered and you would kiss him if you weren’t in public and didn’t actually want to test the place’s PDA tolerance. 
Jeonghan laughed and removed his arm, moving to take Lily’s hand instead. “Fine, fine. But can we get a table already? I’m starving.”
“So. Cute,” Lily cooed.
“Turnabout is fair play, best friend of mine,” you reminded her. 
She pressed her lips together and made a motion as if to zip them, which earned a laugh from you and Seungcheol, and a kiss on the cheek from Jeonghan. 
Seungcheol drew back, sliding his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together and looking at you expectantly as your friends headed toward an empty table. “C’mon, princess. I figure we’ve gotta stick around for like an hour, maybe two, then I can take you home and help you…relax. I know you’ve had a long week.”
And just like that you melted. Well, melted and the little spark of desire that always seemed to be burning in the background when it came to Seungcheol lit. “What are you gonna do if I let you take me home and then just demand cuddles and to go to sleep?”
His smile was soft, twin dimples at either side of his mouth. “Then I will give you cuddles and we’ll go to sleep.” He pulled your body into his with his hand in yours, voice a low rumble against your ear. “But I really don’t think that’s gonna happen.”
“No?” you breathed. 
You could feel his grin as he pressed a kiss to the skin beneath your ear. “I mean, I think it’s gonna happen eventually. I’m just gonna have you naked and writhing, clinging to me, and begging me to come – begging for me to come inside you again – before the cuddling and sleeping.”
Jesus Christ.
“You’re a menace.”
“You love it.”
“God help me, I really do.”
Seungcheol drew back, hand cradling your chin, and sought out your eyes. His dark and warm and not even pretending to hide the affection there. “I love you, princess.”
All the air left you in a whoosh. “I…”
He gave you that dimpled smile again, squeezing your hand, and taking a step backwards, only pausing because your grip on him was tight and you stopped him from moving further. Attentive, curious gaze searched your face as he let himself be held back and waited for you. 
“I love you, too. I just – I wanted to say that. Back. I wanted you to know.”
You watched his chest rise sharply and the next thing you knew, you were back in his arms, his lips brushing against your temple. Vaguely, you heard your friends cheering from across the room, but your focus – every real bit of awareness you had was on the man holding you. “You realize this means you really are my girl from here on out, right? Because you just said you love me and I’m keeping you.”
Heart fluttering, you let your arms go around his torso and rested your palms against his shoulder blades. “I mean, I did sort of figure that when you chased away the random guy earlier. And it really started to get clear when called me your girlfriend earlier,” you teased and he chuckled. 
“Keep it up, brat. See what happens when we get home.”
“Is that supposed to encourage me or discourage me?”
“Princess.”
“Yes, boyfriend?”
“You think calling me your boyfriend is going to get you out of trouble?”
“Yeah?”
“...Goddamn it. You’re right,” he grumbled, but you could see the effort it cost him not to smile. You saw the moment he gave up and let the urge overtake him. Let yourself take it in and receive the love written in his gaze as he let out a soft laugh. “So fucking soft for you, I swear.”
He was, but you were just as soft for him. You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone and turned, walking towards the table your friends sat at, his hand held tightly in yours. As he pulled out your chair and took a seat in the chair next to you, his arm over the back of yours, you looked at him, looked at your friends, and for a moment you were thunderstruck. There was no way you could have predicted this – predicted the two of you – but it felt right. So right. 
Seungcheol calling your name brought you out of your head and you turned your attention to him. “Hm?”
“You okay?” 
“Never been better,” you answered and it was the honest truth.
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qqueenofhades · 2 months
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I completely understand if you don’t feel comfortable answering this, but my mind is spiraling out of control and you’re the only person I know with the level of knowledge to where I can feel comfortable asking this without getting some form of “bla bla we live in a safe state don’t worry.”
I’m sincerely wondering if I need to be making plans to leave the country in the event of November bringing the most horrible of outcomes despite our best efforts (and yes I’m planning to vote blue in everything I can); as a AFAB in CA?
I know about project 2025. I’m terrified. Forgive my pop culture reference, but I feel like a version of Princess Zelda staring down a barrel of possible doom while everyone around me is like “nah that future you literally had a nightmare about where they made it illegal for a woman to have a bank account without a guy co-signing it and took the money from everyone who didn’t comply by a certain date isn’t even a possibility!”
I’m just confused about my life and am trying to take it day by day, and exercising every right while I still have it to prevent this outcome, but it feels weird making plans and retirement accounts and just general Setting Up Adult Life And Future Things™️……while wondering if I even have a future in this place at all and I’m just making it harder to escape if need be.
I’m sorry I’m rambling, and I guess I don’t know what I’m asking since no one has a crystal ball.
But I guess, it’s stuff like how much can the feds effect state’s policies? Is it possible for them to immediately block international travel for all women practically upon inauguration? How much time would I even have to gtfo if the worst begins?
Bc honestly this whole thing feels like the lead in to a very nasty chapter of a history book, and even though I have hope we’ll have another blue tsunami, it can be hard to try and figure things out when it feels like there’s barely any historical precedent for any of it.
Welp. Okay. First of all, I am giving you a comforting hug, I am walking with you to your favorite coffee shop, I am paying for your favorite beverage and also a baked goodie of your choice, and we are sitting down in a corner where we can talk honestly. So that's where I want you to imagine us having this conversation.
To start with, yes, I completely understand this feeling of utter, paralyzing doom, where I am trying to go about my daily life and make plans for my career and carry out daily tasks and Be Responsible while there's still just this total void beyond the end of the year, the utter impossibility of knowing if we will have dodged an absolutely massive bullet and finally be safe (since if Trump loses again he is 100% going to jail in the next four years) or, well. You know. That is a very hard way to live, when you're wondering if anything is going to matter and you can't see beyond that black cloud of fear on the horizon. It sucks you down and tells you that nothing is worth doing now in case it just gets so much worse. I am not going to tell you not to feel that. We all do. We are all scared. That in and of itself is a perfectly normal way to feel.
However, there are things you can do both now and if (I repeat, if) God absolutely forbid, the worst was to happen (again). First of all, we have already lived through a Trump presidency once. It was terrible and scary and awful and demoralizing as fuck, but we can do it again if we absolutely Goddamn fucking have to (once, again, God forbid). Second, you are currently about as safe as you could be in California. Newsom has proven himself to be smart, tough, able to run rings around Republicans, and unwilling to comply with their stupid performative-cruelty directives. He's not a saint or a magician, but you don't need that; you need a shrewd politician able to fight back, and he has proven himself willing and capable of doing that. So as long as he is governor, you're going to be more safe than not, and I'd also like to ask all the shrieking Online Leftists if, should the shit go down, they would rather live in a state with a Democratic governor who will fight Trump 2.0 every step of the way, or a Republican governor who will just roll over and obey. (But that would destroy their BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME talking point, so you know.)
Next of all, even if the Republicans are doing their best impression, America in 2024 isn't Germany in 1934. There are different tools, different ways to fight back, and different awarenesses/social media/visibility factors. I also need everyone to remember that just as Biden can't just sign an executive order and fix everything everywhere, Trump can't just sign an executive order and fuck everything everywhere, just like that with no more discussion ever. He tried that last time, it generally didn't work, and trust me, at least this time nobody is sleeping on the danger he poses. His candidacy in 2016 was dismissed as a long-shot joke that nobody took seriously until it was too late, and for better or worse, people aren't doing that this time. He will be sued instantly, incredibly, and repeatedly with everything his band of wannabe fascists try, and since we have had four years of Biden fixing the courts from where Trump trashed them, that does mean something. There is no scenario where even if he does issue some outrageous order against women, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, etc (which to be clear, I'm sure he would try) it would just be carried out completely, immediately, and with no feasible way to stop it. Evil is evil, but it is also stupid, clueless, determined to hurt people just for the hell of it without any regard for what is possible or which will be allowed, and there's a lot more grey area in there than just "Trump says something terrible and it's instantly done, the end."
Once again, I'm not going to say that the worst-case scenario is not possible, but I don't think it's likely, and even if that does happen, there are ways for us to survive and fight back (again). Nobody wants it and it should not have to be asked of us due to the utter collapse of the social, civic, political, and intellectual fabric of this country thanks to the TrumpCult, but once again... these people are so loud and dangerous and cruel and stupid because they are in the minority. Etc. etc. polls are garbage, but we did just have an interesting piece of empirical data from the Iowa caucuses. Trump -- in one of the whitest, most rural, most conservative, most religious, most Trump-loving states in the country -- struggled to break 50%. Almost half of a rabid Republican fully-Trumpized electorate, among the diehards sufficiently motivated to get out and caucus in extreme freezing weather, voted for someone else (Haley and DeSantis took about 20% apiece). Now, no, we don't know how that will translate to the general election, and if registered Republicans will flock back to the nominee even if it's Trump, but as almost half of Haley voters said they would vote for Biden if it was a Biden-Trump matchup in the general, there is some sense that Trump is an aberration to their otherwise ironclad party loyalty. Now, Republicans are the fucking worst and nobody should be relying on them to save us; we still need to get out and vote for Democrats with all our might. But Trump is no longer barn-burningly popular even in core Trump heartland, and it'll be interesting to see how things go in future primaries.
My point is: I know the feeling that evil is awful and unstoppable and all-powerful, and will crush our lives and our futures no matter what we do to resist it. I really, really do. But Trump is a terrible candidate, he's running literally only to keep himself out of a long, long prison sentence, and if he had crushed the Iowa caucuses regardless, we might be having a different conversation. However, we need to remember that it is possible, again (God forbid) in the worst scenario, to resist, to live, and to win. Everyone who is motivated to work for a better world will still be here. Everyone who can help you and all of us will still be here. And there are more of us than there are of them. Yes, I do understand the feeling that we need to have contingency plans in place, I do absolutely know that it could get very bad, and all that (as you say, nobody has a crystal ball). But for now, I want you to take a deep breath, try to take this day by day, and remember that this is not a crushing and inevitable future that will sweep over you and destroy you without you (or any other person of good will) having a say in the matter. You still have agency, you still have the ability to protect yourself, and you still have others who will protect you in turn. You're not alone. The bad guys want you to think that, because when you're isolated and terrorized, you're easier to pick off and/or recruit into their cult. But you're not.
In conclusion: "What are we holding onto, Sam?"
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blueicequeen19 · 8 months
Text
Making Up
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Warnings: unprotected sexy time - creampie
I stand at the base of the waterfall on the bank, overlooking the small pool area as I try to cool my temper. JJ Maybank was infuriating. I loved him more anything but he was so goddamn stubborn. He didn’t listen. He was impulsive and reckless. His disregard for danger and consequences terrified me. Everyday I was constantly worried about him getting arrested or fired because of his explosive temper and smart mouth.
I hear the crunch of leaves and know he’s behind me. Our peaceful camping trip took a sour turn because of our fighting. Neither of us were one to let things go. We always fought until we were red in the face while never backing down. Some would call us toxic but passionate was more like it.
“Are you done being mad now?” JJ asks in a playful tone, grabbing a handful of my ass as he presses against my ass.
“Are you done acting stupid?” I retort, turning my head in the opposite direction of his when his chin comes to rest on my shoulder. His warm hands find my waist and he trails them down my hips then back up. Over and over again. Like he can’t stop touching me.
“You like the way I act.” He murmurs, trailing is lips along my neck as his cock starts to grow hard against my ass. I shiver, keeping my head turned and my back straight to maintain the ruse. This is what we did. Fight and fuck. And with the way his hands were stroking my body.. I was on the verge of fucking.
“Not when you’re being reckless.” I manage to bite out.
“I’m not afraid of risks. I can’t help it.”
“Well, it scares me. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” I start to melt against him, craving what he’s teasing me with.
“I’ll try to be more mindful of your feelings.” His hands come up to pinch each of my hard nipples, making me bite down on my lip to keep from giving him the satisfaction of my sounds.
“You could just check out the bottom of a cliff before deciding to run and jump. I thought you were dead.” I choke out, the terrified emotions start rushing back and my anxiety spikes. When he didn’t immediately resurface after making the ridiculous jump, I almost collapsed.
The teasing hands turn comforting as he pulls me firmly against his chest, wrapping me in a hug as he kisses my neck.
“I’m sorry. I got excited and I just reacted. I’ll be more careful, baby.” He says with sincerity, tightening his arms around me. I nod, willing the emotional tears away before turning in his embrace.
“It scares me watching you fight.” I admit softly.
“You don’t seem scared afterwards when you’re patching me up and easing the pain?” He’s smirking at me, that dimple shining through and making me want to kiss it. And that damn backwards cap.
“Fine, I don’t like seeing you get hit.”
“I’ll dodge better.” His hands finds my hips, pulling me flush against his bare chest. I sigh, shaking my head as I smile up at him. He was infuriating.
“Now make it up to me.” I purr, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.
“Yes ma’am.” JJ drawls. His hands slide down my back to cup my ass in my string bikini, a moan slipping from his mouth and into mine. I reach up on my tiptoes, plunging my tongue into his mouth as his hands slide up my back to tug on the strings of my bikini top. The scraps of material fall to the grass beneath us as he fucks my mouth with his tongue while I cup him through his swim trunks. That fire inside me was burning hotter and I couldn’t wait another minute.
“JJ..fuck me. Right now.” I plead, making him groan as I palm the hard length through his shorts and suck his bottom lip into my mouth.
“Need me to take you to your knees? Bend you over on these rocks, and fuck you until I’m sorry?” JJ growls against my mouth, untying the strings on my hips and letting my bottoms join my top.
“Yes. Show me how sorry you are.” I plead, almost pathetically as I thrust my hand inside his waistband and palm the hard flesh that throbs for me. Precum weeps onto my hand and I use it to jerk him off, a sexy moan from him making me shudder.
“Fuck, I’m going to cum in your hand. Get on your knees.” JJ rasps, shoving me to my knees a moment later and pushing me to bend over so I’m on display for him.
“Baby.” I whimper as his hand slides between my thighs, spreading my lips wide, and pressing on my clit.
“So wet for me. You’re dripping down your pretty thighs. Fighting gets you all hot and bothered, huh?” His voice is taunting, playful, before shoving two fingers inside me.
“Oh god.” I cry out, his fingers moving in and out at a rapid pace, shooting sparks up my spine as I’m blinded by the pleasure. Sloppy wet sounds echo between us as I cry out, my body jerking with his rough movements until he stops, replacing his fingers with his cock.
“Fuckkkkkkk. So goddamn tight, darlin’.” JJ groans long and loud, his hands tight on my hips as he sinks in balls deep with one go. My hands cling to the grass, practically digging into the dirt as he fucks me slow and deep.
“You take me so well. Your poor pussy all stretched for my cock.” JJ sighs, his grip becoming bruising as he slams over and over against my ass.
“I could live and die in this pussy.” JJ pulls out, flips me onto my back before plunging back inside me. I keen, feeling him everywhere. His cock, his hands, his mouth. I can hardly catch my breath as I cum with a shout, my entire body practically convulsing as he fucks me through it, fisting my hair as he slams in harder. Deeper.
Suddenly, he rolls us, manhandling me on top even though I can barely hold myself up. I sway, trying to brace myself with my hands planted on his chest as he continues to fuck me.
“Come on, baby. Make me cum. Fuck me.” JJ groans desperately, his knees bent as he thrusts into me. My nails bite into his skin as I start to bounce up and down as hard as I can then grinding forward and back. Over and over again.
His hair sticks to his forehead, his nostrils flared as we chase his release. I cup the front of his throat and squeeze gently until his eyes roll back and he stills, only jerking slightly as he finishes inside me.
“Fuck, that was hot.” JJ pants as I slump on his sweaty chest. His arms wrap around me as he presses his lips to my forehead.
“You forgive me yet?” He murmurs, rubbing my back as the sun sits high in the sky, making us both sweat more. The sound of the waterfall and the birds in the trees becomes soothing and I could almost take a nap.
Instead I sit up and press my lips to his, tasting the sweat on his lip and the beer from earlier. His cock twitches inside me and I smirk, rolling my hips to get him ready for round two.
“Jesus fuck.” JJ groans, palming my ass as I grind my clit against his pelvis.
“I think you need to keep apologizing.”
456 notes · View notes
warnersister · 3 months
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Dark! Isaiah Jesus x Reader “forever”
Where you try to leave him but Isaiah refuses to fathom the idea that you don’t want to live in his fantasy forever.
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Isaiah rounded the corner onto the street where his house was, pace steady as he looked forward to spending the evening with his little fiancée after a tiring day dealing with some business with the other Peaky boys.
He’d expected you to be in bed already, waiting up for him like a good girl to ask about his day and dote on him the way he’d like you too. But when he opened the front door and let out a loud “I’m home sweetheart” he could hear your pottering upstairs becoming more wicked, and sounded almost frantic to him. He inhaled deeply, anger slowly seeping through his veins and he attempted to establish that gentle dominance he tried to have with you instead of getting truly angry.
In his head it wasn’t true; blindly convincing himself over the past few weeks that the news he’d been receiving wasn’t real. They were just making it up. He’d hired a few men to follow you when you’d started dating - needing to know where his missus was at all times when he couldn’t accompany you. And since the beginning of the month they’d trailed you to a bank, a lawyer and a travel agency which you’d left with a one way ticket to France by ferry. But no, you wouldn’t do that to him. You loved him. You’d promised him forever when you accepted that ring. Of course you wouldn’t do that.
But now, stood in the entrance to your house, he flared his nostrils and shook his head, gritting his jaw as he calmly went around and locked all the doors, windows and exits on the ground floor before putting all keys in his coat pocket, hanging it by the door.
He walked upstairs at his usual pace, rolling the sleeves of his bloodied shirt to deal with your nonsense. He’d walked to the shared bedroom, noticing the light pooling into the hallway, slipping in as he watched you click your suitcase shut. He entered the room fulls and quickly shut the door behind him. You jumped at the sound of the door closing, too absorbed in your own mind to notice him there.
He crossed his arms across his chest, watching you straighten yourself up and could almost see the internal convincing it took you to speak to him. “I can’t do this anymore Isaiah.” You started. “Put the suitcase away yn.” “I can’t keep living your lie. I had a successful business, I was happy. And now I’m just as much use as a chocolate fire guard.” Isaiah stayed silent. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me. But it’s time for me to go.” You say, picking the suitcase up and pulling the engagement ring off of your finger. And Isaiah started laughing. “You’re funny love.” He shook his head, refusing to believe that you would ever consider leaving him. “I’m serious Isaiah.”
His eyes darkened suddenly, a hazy mist filling the dark voids in place of his pupils as he inhaled deeply. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing, taking money out of my account. Hiring a lawyer that works for the blinders. Buying ferry tickets to a country which language you can’t speak.” “I’ve been taking lessons.” “Which I pay for.” He moves away from the door and back towards you, you don’t back away. “You’ve bought a suitcase with my money. Wearing clothes that I’ve paid for, running away in shoes I had made, with a confidence I created. I made you Yn. You will not do this to me.” You stayed silent.
“You’re just confused. You’ve never had a man love you and you don’t know how to feel. You’ve never had such a sense of security and you’re not used to it. Cause you think you’re a strong woman when internally you’re trying not to let go of that little girl’s hope.” You looked down at your feet contemplating his words, wondering what you would actually do once you reached France.
He lifted your chin to meet his eyes with his thumb and index finger, analysing your face. “So what you’re going to do my love, is you’re going to unpack that suitcase, put your clothes away. Give me the money and the ticket and you’re going to put that diamond back on your finger and you’re going to be Mrs Jesus like I know you want to be. Then you’re going to get ready for bed, lay in that bed beside me while you apologise for being so silly and then I’ll consider forgiving you and we’ll go back to how thinks were. Yeah?”
You looked at him for a minute before silently moving away to open your suitcase back up and he knew he had you wrapped around his finger.
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goodwithcheese · 8 months
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Series Summary: One night can change everything.
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Chapter Word Count: 5K
Series Content / Warnings: Fluff and Smut, PIV Sex, Oral Sex, Frankie and reader are both parents so children will be present occasionally, Frankie is such a good dad, passing mention of drug/alcohol abuse, Sassy Pope, Frankie uses his words, a lil' bit of spanking, misappropriation of Triple Frontier dialogue
Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist
Chapter 7
Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, but you ignore it; very little happens on a Saturday evening that requires your immediate attention. Ozzie is snuggled against you, his fingers tracing over the pictures in his favorite Pigeon book as you read the words, though ‘read’ is perhaps not accurate – with its daily repeats, you definitely have this one memorized. The phone buzzes a second time a few minutes later, and even though you feel a vague flicker of curiosity, you keep reading.
Once you finish the last page, you slide the book onto Ozzie’s lap. He turns through the pages again, quietly reciting the story to himself, as you pick up your phone.
Two texts from Jules:
Babe, are you watching the weather?
Text me back in five or I’m coming over.
You type out a reply:
No, should I be?
You walk to the window, and when you peek through the blinds, you see only gray; a bank of clouds is pushing fast across the sky, thick and dark and roiling. It doesn’t look any worse than a typical summer thunderstorm, but you click on the television just to be sure. The weatherman is on screen, pointing toward a variety of bright, flickering polygons on the map. He seems amped up, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows, and you pick out the words “tornado watch” and “hook echo” before muting the TV so Ozzie doesn’t hear.
Your phone rings in your hand – Jules.
“Fucking storms.” Jules’ furious tone tells you she’s taking the threat of tornadoes personally, as usual. “Such fucking bullshit.”
“I don’t know –” you squint at the screen, trying to follow the track of the storm – “but it looks like it’ll miss us.”
“You’re awfully calm considering we’re about to get Wizard-of-Oz’ed out of here.”
“Want to come over? I can make you some tea?”
“Will the tea have Klonopin in it?”
You laugh. “No, the best I can offer is peppermint.”
“Then I’ll pass. Thanks, though, babe. I just wanted to be sure you were paying attention. Kiss my sweet baby for me.”
“I will. And call if you need me to talk you down.”
“Will do, babe. I’ll call you later.”
You pitch your phone onto the cushions of the couch and walk to the garage. You scoot the stack of cardboard recycling away from where it’s piled in front of the storm shelter door, then locate a box of dusty candles on a high shelf next to it. You pass through the kitchen on your way back to the living room, finding a pair of flashlights and a jar of matches, and heap your supplies in the middle of the coffee table.
Your phone rings again, and you grab it, answering without looking at the name.
“Change your mind about the tea?”
“…the tea?” Frankie sounds bewildered.
“Oh! Sorry, I thought you were Jules.”
“Ah. Are you watching this storm?”
“I am now.” You look at the television, where a storm spotter’s camera is showing a wall of opaque rain beyond the hurried slap of his windshield wipers.
“Can I come over? I’d feel better if you two weren’t home alone.”
“Oh, Frankie, we’re fine – really. I’ve got the shelter, we’ve got supplies. You don’t need to do that.”
“I would feel better if I did –“ his voice is no-nonsense and direct, your first glimpse of this take-charge side of him – “so unless you say no, I’m coming over.”
You furrow your brow – you’ve been through storms like this your whole life; you hardly need someone to hand-hold you through one. But if it makes him feel better, you suppose there’s no harm done – other than what feels like a slight blow to your ego. “Well, okay. It’s fine.”
His voice softens. “I’ll be there in 10.”
You say goodbye and end the call, then text Jules:
Guess who’s coming over?
Her response is immediate:
Hot Dad? Please say it’s Hot Dad.
You keep one eye on the television as you type your message:
Apparently, he will ‘feel better’ if he’s here? Should I be insulted?
You can picture the glee on her face as you read what she’s written:
Babe, we know why he’s coming over. He’s hoping for a power outage. Gonna break that new no-sitting-in-the-dark rule of yours and see what happens.
Three dots flicker on your screen as she types another message:
Two more things. A man who wants to be around for you and our boy during absolute bullshit like tornado watches is a good find. And you should know I put condoms in your nightstand earlier this week because I’m basically the best friend ever and you’re lucky to have me. Thank me later by giving me details. Love you, babe!
You hurry down the hallway to your bedroom and pull open your nightstand drawer. Rooting around in the detritus that has accumulated there, you find the box tucked into a back corner. A hot pink Post-It note is stuck to the front, with Jules’ oversized cursive scrawled on it: ‘Hope this is enough to get you two through one night – if not, sorry AND jealous. Love, Jules!’
You stuff the box back into the drawer and shut it quickly, then text Jules:
You’re a bad influence.
You can almost hear her voice as you read the response:
That’s why you love me, babe. Call me in the AM and, for the love of God, have something good to tell me!
Some part of you feels a frisson of excitement at the opportunity Jules’ little present is offering – the same part of you that carries you to your bathroom to run your fingers over your hair, the same part that spritzes a little perfume at your throat, the same part that glides an appraising hand over your calves checking for stubble.
But the other, more determined part of you refuses to change into something cuter than what you’re already wearing: a pair of denim cutoffs and another faded band tee – Kings of Leon this time, the once black fabric now a washed-out, splotchy gray.
The knock at the front door removes the possibility anyway.
You can hear the patter of rain beginning to hit the windows as you open the door, and Frankie shakes the glistening drops from his dark hair as he crosses the threshold. He’s carrying a duffel bag, army-green and clearly full, that he drops on the floor.
“Daddy!” Ozzie slides off the couch and rushes to Frankie, catching him around his knees.
“Hey, pal.” Frankie scoops him up and kisses his plump cheek, and Ozzie screws up his face.
“Skwatchy.” Ozzie rubs his open palms over Frankie’s scruffy jaw.
Frankie smiles as he sets the boy back down.
“It is a little scratchy, I guess.” He catches your eye and winks. “What do you think?”
“I think –” you shrug, your hands upturned and open – “that I don’t have an opinion.”
“Really? Alright then.” His eyes crinkle from his smile as he squats down next to the duffel bag. “Here, Oz, this is for you.”
He holds out a bright green plastic flashlight, with a chubby handle sized for children, and Ozzie reaches for it with wide eyes.
“Is mine?” He looks back and forth between you and Frankie. “Is my light?”
“It’s yours. You can use it for all kinds of stuff like playing outside or making shadows, but it’s good to have during a storm in case the lights go out.” Frankie shows Ozzie how to flick the switch off and on. “You can keep it in your room in case you need it. If that’s okay with your mom?”
They look at you in unison and you’re struck by the similarity of their expressions.
“Of course it’s okay. Buddy, what do you say?”
“Dank you!” Ozzie gives Frankie a loose, fast hug, his attention fixed on the flashlight.
“You’re welcome, Oz.” Frankie rises from his crouch as Ozzie takes off down the hallway flicking the light off and on.
You hold out your hand expectantly, a bright smile on your face, and Frankie looks at you blankly.
“What?”
You lift your eyebrows. “I assume I also get a gift?”
He laughs and bumps the duffel with the toe of his boot. “I can offer you some camping lanterns, extra batteries, or a first aid kit. Oh, or a wrench in case we need to turn off any utilities.”
You grin at him. “Frankie. I am a grown woman. Do you honestly think I don’t own a wrench? Or a first aid kit?”
“Can’t be too prepared. And thanks for letting me come over. I know you don’t need me here, but I –” he rubs his hand over the back of his neck, his face a little embarrassed – “hated the thought of the two of you here alone. Just in case.”
“It’s okay. I guess Ella’s still with her mom?”
“Yeah, they decided not to drive back in until tomorrow afternoon with the weather getting crazy.”
“Good call.” You nod your head toward the kitchen. “I was going to make us some dinner just before you called. Interested? Saturday nights are sandwich nights around here, so if you like ham and cheese, I’ve got you covered.”
“Sounds great. Need a hand?”
You gesture toward the television. “It’s a one-person job. You can keep an eye on that.”
---
Frankie carries the plates from dinner back to the kitchen and racks them into the dishwasher. You’d brought the sandwiches to the coffee table so the two of you could keep an eye on the storm – you’d called it a picnic, which had made Ozzie so delighted he didn’t notice the anxious glances the two of you had been sharing.
When Frankie walks back into the living room, Ozzie is on the floor contentedly stacking a tower of blocks and you are cross-legged on the couch, typing on your phone. You look up at him – he can’t imagine ever getting tired of how you look at him, like he’s a gift you didn’t expect – and smile broadly.
“Jules says hi.”
He sits down on the couch next to you – almost close enough to touch you, definitely close enough to smell your perfume, sweet and clean.
“Tell her hi for me. Let her know if she needs company, I’m pretty sure Pope would drive through an F5 to get there.”
You laugh, your fingers flying over the screen. “Can you imagine the two of them together? It’d be chaos.”
“Unfortunately for me, I don’t have to imagine, because Pope has been describing his plans in detail.”
“Eww.” You wrinkle your nose, and he chuckles.
“No, not those kind of plans. Well, mostly not. Don’t tell her any of that.”
“Oh, Frankie –” you grin at him, your thumb hitting send – “too late.”
Frankie groans, letting his head fall against the back of the couch. “He’s gonna kill me.”
You nudge him with your shoulder, mock sadness written over your face. “It was good knowing you.”
He notices you don’t lean away; you leave your shoulder resting lightly against his, and he nearly holds his breath so as not to lose the point of contact.
A sudden roar of wind rattles the windows, and you hop up from the couch to cross the room, peeking out the blinds. “Guess it’s here.”
Frankie’s eyes follow you, his gaze fixed on the frayed edges of your cutoffs as they brush the back of your thighs. He hasn’t forgotten how soft you are there, how the curves of muscle and flesh yielded to the grip of his fingers as he spread your legs wide onto the crisp percale of the hotel sheets.
You turn suddenly, concern creasing your forehead, and he blinks away the memory. “Are you worried about hail? I could make room in the garage for your car if you want?”
He shakes his head, smiling appreciatively at you. “The Bronco is mostly dents and dings. A little hail won’t hurt it.”
You nod, then turn your attention back to the window as the wind whips against the house. “What if a tree falls on it?”
He chuckles. “Then I have an excuse to get a new truck.”
You hold up two crossed fingers and cast a grin over your shoulder at him. “You may get lucky.”
He widens his eyes at you and holds up his own crossed fingers, and you laugh.
“With a tree. You may get lucky with a tree,” you emphasize, though your eyes sparkle in a way that makes him curious.
“Come please build blocks.”
He looks toward Ozzie, who is holding up a painted wooden block, his eyes fixed on Frankie.
“Sure, pal.” He gets up and settles on the floor by the little boy, taking the chunky blue rectangle. “What are we building?”
“A towah t’ the sky!” Ozzie waves dramatically at the teetering stack of blocks in front of him, and Frankie nods.
“A tower to the sky it is, then.”
You sit down on the floor next to them, your eyes glued to the weather app on your phone. “I think the worst of it is going to miss us.”
Frankie adds his block to the wobbling structure. “I think so, too. Just wind and rain for us.”
“Now, as long as the power stays on…”
As if on cue, the television and the lights snap off, and silence spills through the house as everything stops running at once. You and Frankie meet each other’s eyes in the dim light of your still-glowing phone screen.
“Well, shoot.” The surprise on your face makes him smile.
He lifts his eyebrows, his voice teasing. “Look what you just did.”
---
Frankie looks up from his phone with a frown as you walk back into the living room. “The website says power will be restored no later than Monday. But that’s probably a worst-case scenario.”
“Wow, I hope you’re right.” You flop onto the couch next to him, the flickering candle on the coffee table beginning to waver as its flame sinks low. “Hey, thanks for helping with him in there.”
A few extra stories were required to settle Ozzie down for sleep, but you and Frankie had taken turns, and soon the excitement of the power outage had worn off enough to let him close his eyes and drift off. His nightlight and sound machine both had batteries – that still worked, thank whatever gods were responsible for that – and as long as they made it to morning, he should be fine.
“Don’t thank me for that.” Frankie squints at you playfully. “I’m his dad.”
“Then I’ll thank you for the company instead. I’m glad you came over. We didn’t need you but–” you hold up one finger in a placating gesture, an easy smile on your face – “it’s been a much better evening with you here than it would have been without you.”
“Thanks.” He casts his eyes away almost shyly before returning your gaze. “I hope I didn’t overstep, but I just…it’s important to me to take care of my people. To keep ‘em safe.”
“Your person.”
He looks at you, not understanding. “What?”
“You said your ‘people.’ But it’s just one person – Ozzie.”
A thread of something stretches between you, taut and fine and golden.
“No.” He shakes his head, and the flicker of candlelight burning in the depths of his dark eyes kindles a bloom of heat in your cheeks. “I meant my people.”
“Oh.” You nod slowly, turning your attention to the shimmer and sway of the candle flame.
He shifts his attention to it as well. “I think that one’s about to burn out. Want me to grab another one?”
The candle begins to gutter, the light flickering out again and again, before it finally expires, a thin ribbon of smoke twisting into the air above it.
“No.” Your voice is soft but certain.
“But we aren’t supposed to sit in the dark.” He sounds like he’s joking, but there is a question hidden in the words.
You take a deep breath, then shift your body toward him. You lift both hands to his face, the scruff of his beard rough on your palms. Your thumb finds that bare patch, the heart-shaped one, and warmth flashes over your skin as you stroke it gently.
You can feel him holding his breath as you lean towards him, your lips scant millimeters from his. “Then we don’t sit.”  
Your shared breaths mingle for a moment, until you feel his hands slide around your waist, his fingertips edging beneath the hem of your tee to trace warm paths over your skin – until you know for sure he wants this as much as you do.
When you kiss him, his lips are soft and warm, careful and patient. The plump curve of the lower one slots perfectly between yours, and you can’t resist easing the tip of your tongue against the swell of it. His hands tighten at your waist, his fingers digging into you, as a small guttural sound escapes him.
It’s like a bolt of electricity through your veins, that sound - you need to hear it again.
Another sweep of your tongue against him and his exhale is a groan, his mouth opening to you. You are dizzy with want now – everything you’ve been holding back crashes over you, and you know there’s no stopping.
You swing your leg over him, straddling his lap, your hands tangling in his hair as your kiss becomes messy and hungry – his tongue sliding into your mouth, your teeth nipping against his lip, breathy moans mingling with the crash of thunder outside.
His broad palms wrap around the backs of your thighs, high up, fingers inching beneath the hem of your shorts; they splay wide and grip you hard, grazing the edge of your panties as he pulls you toward him.
The feeling of being spread wide over his lap, the swell of his cock in his jeans already grinding against your center, makes your breath come hot and fast; your hips rock mindlessly in rhythm with your panting.
 You let your head drop back, offering him the long line of your throat. He kisses the tender place beneath your chin, the prickle of his mustache sending an unexpected sizzle through your nerves, then works a path downward. The rough rasp stings until soothed by the velvet caress of his lips, and you bite your lip to quiet the sounds that threaten to spill from you.
“Oh, fuck.” Your silence comes undone when two thick fingers find the soaked center of your panties; they move in a tantalizingly slow sweep over the slick fabric. You rest your forehead against Frankie’s, a strangled groan caught in your throat.
“Goddamn.” His fingers push against the slippery material, testing the edges, and when you feel them slip beneath the thin barrier to glide through your folds, you whimper. “Baby, you’re so wet – is this for me? Are you this wet for me?”
Your mouth is on his as he finishes the last word, your hands on his cheeks. Your words tumble out in a halting stutter as his fingers explore you. “Frankie…I want to…let’s go to my room. Please.”
The ‘please’ bends into a whine as his fingertip flutters against your entrance, then pushes deep into the wet heat of your body. Lightning arcs outside, and in the flash of brightness, you see his eyes, focused and dark and hungry, as he works you open.
“Please,” you ask again, dropping your face to bite into the tensed line of his neck. “Please, Frankie. I need you to fuck me.”
“Baby, I didn’t –” his finger slides out of you, then finds your clit, curling to stroke you gently – “bring anything.”
“It’s okay, I have –” you inhale sharply as a second finger joins the first, the twinned rhythm quick and sure – “condoms.”
His fingers slip from your panties, and he gives your ass a firm squeeze, dragging you against the swollen bulge of his cock.
“Thought you were a spinster.” His voice is playful – husky and hot against your ear.
You huff out a quick laugh, and grind your pussy against him, delighting in the groan the movement elicits. “But not a celibate one. C’mon.”
You clamber off his lap and turn toward the hallway. He rises to follow you, but you hold out a hand, pointing toward his duffel bag.
“Bring one of those lanterns. I want to see you.”
He murmurs appreciative assent and extracts one of the small lanterns out of his bag, and the two of you creep down the hallway to your bedroom. You quietly close the door, turning the lock, as he rocks the switch on the light, filling the room with a warm, golden glow.
You meet each other’s eyes a little bashfully – the protective invisibility the darkness offered gone —but when he reaches for you, his broad palm cupping your cheek, thick fingers curling around your neck, any hesitancy melts away.
You let your body fall into his, your lips crashing together, your hands pushing the hem of his shirt up the smooth expanse of his belly and chest. He lifts his arms so you can pull it off, and as you drop it on the floor, he’s already tugging at your tee, dragging it over your head and tossing it to the side.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He eases his palm over the horizon of your shoulder, his eyes moving over the swells of your tits ensconced in the simple black jersey bra you’re wearing. You briefly wish you had on something more seductive, but his face shows nothing but pleasure at the sight before him. He leans down and presses an open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to draw a wet, warm line over the ridge of bone. His hands move behind you, finding the clasp of your bra and unhooking it nimbly.
You shrug the straps down your shoulders, letting the bra fall to the floor, and he gathers your tits into his palms, his thumbs circling the tight buds of your nipples. With quick hands, you yank open the button of your shorts, then kick them off, before turning your attention to his belt.
The leather snakes through the brass buckle with a hiss. You want him out of these jeans, right now, but you force yourself to slow down. You move your hand over the straining bulge of his cock in the denim, gripping him through the material. You’d sometimes wondered if your memory had been generous when recalling the heft of his cock, but the way he fills your hand answers the question.
He groans as you touch him, his hips rocking toward you. His words are half-grunted as you stroke him. “Do you want me to fuck you, baby? Or something else first?”
Your stomach clenches at his question, remembering the early hours of that morning in Miami, his face nestled in the juncture of your thighs, his tongue working you feverishly. But – you squeeze his cock through the denim, saliva pooling under your tongue – that’s for later. Now you want this.
You lift onto your tiptoes, kissing the blade of his jaw, your words whispered into his skin. “I need you inside me, Frankie. Right now.”
He catches your chin, bringing his mouth to yours. “You said you have condoms?”
You nod, and crawl on your hands and knees over the end of the bed toward your nightstand. Your hips are canted high in the air as you dig through the drawer, your fingers finding the tucked-away box. You hear Frankie’s jeans hit the floor, then the bed sags with his weight behind you. You pull a few condoms free from the box just as you feel Frankie’s palm spread wide over your upturned ass.
“Jesus fucking Christ, this view of you.”
You glance over your shoulder to see him behind you, his face hungry as he takes you in. He spits into his hand, then smears the saliva over his cock, working himself slowly. His fingers crook into the waistband of your panties and he slowly begins to drag them down. He trails kisses over every inch as he exposes you, and you sink to your forearms, lost in the hazy pleasure of his mouth against your skin.
“You look so good like this.” His praise sends throbbing heat through your center, and when he gently slaps your ass, you smile into your sheets and arch your back, offering him more.
Your panties are at your knees now, forgotten, as his hand kneads and squeezes your pliable flesh, the wet squelch of his cock in his fist filling your ears. You feel his weight shifting on the bed, and then keening cry falls from your lips as you feel the flat of his tongue slide over your pussy.
“I just need to taste you a little, baby,” he croons against your folds, his voice honeyed and warm. “So sweet…taste as good as I remember.”
You close your eyes, your need for his cock inside you slowly being forgotten as his tongue seems to be everywhere at once, the scruff of his beard rough against your thighs. But then he stops, placing a sticky kiss on the soft crease where your thigh meets your ass. He rises to his knees behind you, and you feel his cock dragging against you, the head trailing a hot, slippery glaze of precum on your skin.
“If you want me to fuck you like this, I will.” His hands smooth slow and easy over the curves of your hips, then he gently guides you onto your back. “But like this first, so I can see your face.”
You slip one of the condoms into his hand, then shimmy your panties the rest of the way down your legs, as he tears the package open. You watch as he strokes his cock for a moment before rolling the condom over the hard length of it. He grips one of your calves, lifting it to kiss the inner curve of your knee before spreading your legs and kneeling between them.
“I’ve thought about this so much.” Two thick fingers glide through your center, then settle against your clit, rubbing you gently. “All I’ve wanted was to hear you again, hear those pretty little sounds you make when I fuck you.”
You rock your hips toward his hand, hooking one leg around his waist. “Then stop waiting.”
He grins, then drops down to kiss you, his tongue teasing the edges of your lips. You feel him line up the head of his cock at your entrance, and a gasping moan is wrenched from you as he pushes slowly inside. The stretch of him burns a little, but he moves gently, and your body relaxes.
“Oh, fuck, Frankie –” you roll your hips against him, as he nips the tender skin of your throat – “you feel so good.”
His forearms rest on either side of your shoulders, caging you in, and you feel surrounded by him, grounded to the bed by the weight of his body, his hips rocking steady against you. It is unhurried, the way he fucks you, and you slide your hands over the broad expanse of his back, the muscles tense beneath your hands.
His mouth finds your ear, his words gritted and low. “I want to feel you come on my cock, baby. Want to feel this sweet pussy get so tight I can’t fucking take it. Think you can do that for me?”
“Uh-huh.” You snake your hand between the sweaty crush of your bodies, fingers dipping low to where his cock is filling you. He pushes up onto his hands, levering his body off yours, to watch your movements. Your fingers make their way back to your clit, and you find the rhythm you like best; you’re already so close, your body so ready for this – for him.
“Come on, baby, come on, –” his eyes narrow, his brow furrowed in concentration – “that’s it, show me how you like it.”
His words, the swirling slip of your fingers, the delicious friction of his thick cock sliding in and out of you – the sensations blur together, and you arch your back and come hard, the pulsing squeeze of your pussy making him moan in unison with you.
He falls to his elbows, his mouth on yours, hips rocking hard against you. You rake your nails down his back as his rhythm falters. He buries himself deep, every muscle in his body flexed, and you can feel the pulse of his cock inside you.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck.” His voice is hoarse and strained, the words muffled against your cheek.
You are both out of breath, the sheen of sweat on your bodies shimmering in the golden light of the lantern, and he kisses a winding path from your damp temple to the corner of your mouth.
“Why did we wait so long to do this?” He rolls his hips languidly, the heft of his cock still heavy inside you.
You laugh softly, and he grunts as your body tenses around him. “I may need a couple minutes before I can remember my reasons.”
He reaches between your bodies, holding the condom in place as he pulls out of you, then stands up. “Hope you don’t.”
You shift onto your side to watch him head to your bathroom – the width of his shoulders, the taper of his waist, the loose-limbed swagger of his walk…you could get used to this view.
When he comes back, he clicks off the lantern, then stretches out on the bed facing you, brushing a soft kiss on your forehead as he eases his palm along the valley of your waist.
You rest your hands on his smooth chest, your fingers tracing small circles on his golden skin. “Maybe that’s out of our systems now.”
“Not yet.” He dips his head to kiss your lips and you feel his smile. “So we’ll have to keep trying, and I’ll let you know.”
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