#i was excited for p much nothing in all the liquors | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

venmondiese · 1 month

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This party is boring... wanna leave?

✧ masterlist ✧ taglist ✧

Summary: The party you are in is boring, so you ask a cute nerd guy to leave with you... that is, until you find out this is his birthday party. Maybe a gift and a happy birthday will fix his sad evening.

✧Pairing: Michael Gavey x Fem!Reader

✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), overall sweet, michael being a total nerd virgin.

✧Word Count: 7.8k

✧AO3 link: here

note: so i saw this tweet in my 2020 ig histories and i said... michael gavey coded, and here we are. Here is the original tweet (wendy and joy from red velvet haha) and AGAIN this is infinite i swear i am allergic to write things under 5k

Michael couldn’t be more excited. He looks proudly at the poster indicating the date and place of his birthday.

Nothing too glamorous, he rented one of the halls for hire in Oxford, the same one that they used for the Christmas party that (to no one’s surprise) he wasn’t invited. But he intended to do something fun about it, with the pool table and maybe some game algebraic beer pong. Who knows? It was his birthday, so he did the rules.

And he had a few friends he could invite, of course, renting a whole hall seems…. exaggerated, but truly, he couldn’t get a pool table in his room. He paid for this only for the pool table. Besides, he liked his Norman no mates friends. Friends if you could call them that; they were as friend to him as Oliver Quick once was. Just that this once… he won’t get too attached.

Well, ‘friends’ would actually be mates from the chess club, so they weren’t exactly popular these days. They barely had a girl in the group, so they weren’t great with girls either. Besides, the only other girl that he knew had agoraphobia so… it wasn’t happening.

His mum made some little biscuits and cupcakes for his day, since she came to have a little celebration just for him and her in a near-by cafe at college. He could skip a few classes to be with his mum on his birthday, after all.

The night started interestingly. The space was obviously much larger than what he thought it could be, so they hung around the couch and the pool table. He felt the victory as he won two chess matches and a pool game. Maybe it was birthday luck, since everything was coming up as great.

As they talked about which opening was their favourite, Michael heard a little knock. Once he approached the crystal door, he saw Oliver with Felix by his side, with some liquor bottles.

Michael frowned a bit, as he was pretty sure he rented the room, he did it with a lot of anticipation and made sure no one else did before him. And it was crystal clear that he didn’t invite Oliver. Sure, in their friendship, he once or twice talked about doing something about his birthday, but he never invited Oliver.

“Hey Mikey” Oliver says, with an shit eating grin, and Michael has to roll his eyes, by how smug and prideful he looked. An absolute jerk, if you asked him. Oliver didn’t even wear his glasses anymore, and was all parties and relevancy thanks to Felix. “Come on”

Before Michael could stop them, Oliver passes by his side, as Felix follows him patting Michael’s shoulder with a smirk (he could swear it was in a patronising way) and people follow from behind as Oliver looks in the room for the music speaker of the rented room.

Michael walked as the crowd quickly dispersed, and he grabbed the few gifts he received, and looked at his distressed mates.

“Oliver you cannot be here, I rented the room” Michael screams as the room noise is quick to appear, so different from the silence of their small reunion.

“I saw your pamphlet” Oliver says nonchalantly as he successfully manages to get the aux cable. “Birthday, eh?” He says mockingly

“I rented it! You have to get out” He says almost screaming, as the same way he did once they met, when he asked Oliver to say a sum for him to say.

“If you can get all of us out, mate… sure” Oliver shrugs, clearly not minding.

Michael looks defeated. Even if he stands there, angry, with the few gift bags on his hands, he feels embarrassed. He wanted to do one nice thing for himself, just once. It wasn’t as cheap to rent a hall for his birthday (he couldn’t do it anywhere else, truly, but he thinks that maybe the pub would have been nice even if few of his mates didn’t drink beer)

The room fills very quickly, sitting on the couches and talking as they get vases with something to drink, or beer cans.

“Michael” two of his friends approach him, and he looks at them “We could rescue the biscuits and the cake” They say proudly as they have it in his hands.

He couldn’t fake to look at least smug, so he nods a bit numbly. “Yeah, sure.” He says a bit disoriented, looking around “The rest left?”

“This was not a party, we assumed…”

“Not really our thing. Though Tim and Steve stayed to see if they could get any girls”

Michael hums, and he doesn’t know what to exactly think, since he didn’t expect this. He was organised, he liked things to be as he already planned. It made him secure, and it was only logical. But this interruption made him anxious.

“I gotta save the pool balls” He says to his friends “They are going to fine me if I lose one of them”

“What… we do with this?” His friend asks about the food.

“Uhm… take the biscuits with you…” Michael says. “And the cake… leave it on the library next to the pool table, and hide it… please”

As he collects the pool balls, and walks upstairs to return them, he is very downhearted. He remembers the time that he invited his friends from school and only his cousins and his neighbour appeared to his party; very embarrassing and he hated celebrating his birthday with a party ever since. It was mostly his mum and granny, with his dog and cat. Nothing else, nothing too fancy.

He comes back for the cake as he tries to explain the situation to the people that manage the rented halls, there was not much for them to do, and he is suspicious that maybe Oliver or Felix paid them to keep the room. At least they promised not to charge if anything broke, and he was happy with that.

So, money wasted, party ruined and they couldn’t even sing to him happy birthday.

He walks from between the crowd as he steals a beer. Fuck it, it wasn’t eve stealing since they ruined his party. He takes a break, since he feels really discouraged. He knows his mates are not really social butterflies, but more leaning to being socially anxious. He might need to apologise, and even face the idea that they might be annoyed at him, and maybe they’ll kick him out from the chess team.

He drinks his beer, looking at how Oliver and Felix hyped the whole thing out, people sitting on the pool table… He hopes his cake is intact. He looks at his beer can as he move it a little to stir the liquid (he totally doesn’t want to look miserable AND like an imbecile)

“Hey” A voice calls him as he drinks from his beer. He has to look up to the prettiest girl that has ever approached him, probably. You wear a pink pleated mini skirt, with a short baby pink hoodie that he could see your bright pink bra underneath. God, it was a lot of pink in one person.

You look at him as he blinks a bit, and you look at him with an alluring smile as if waiting for him to say something, and once he doesn’t, you continue.

“This party is kinda boring” you start saying, with a soft smile and a bright in your eyes as you look at him, doing all your best efforts to flirt with him “Do you wanna leave together?”

Michael blinks a bit as he looks at you, trying to process the words in his head but he fails. “Uh… this is my birthday party” he admits embarrassed and awkwardly, as he looks away to not face the shame, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Oh” you say looking at him, your smile fading a bit, a bit worried about your comment. “Oh, I’m sorry” you say, grabbing his forearm. “Didn’t mean to be rude”

“No problem” he says, looking at how your hand rests on his forearm, almost caressing it slowly.

“I suppose you didn’t invite all these people, did you? It was kind of a last minute call” you say looking at him, actually interested in him. “You seem pretty out of place for that”

“No… It was for me and my mates”

“Ohh…” You say looking around, and you feel a bit of pity, which he doesn’t want nor needs. “Well, I would have brought a gift.” You say, trying to cheer him up “What is your name?”

Did they send you to make fun of him? Must be.

“Michael Gavey” He says, and he refuses to look at you, not to give you or them the satisfaction.

“Michael” you repeat, and you tell him your name too. “You are cute” you add.

He blushes and looks at you as if you just insulted him, his eyes open and he frowns a bit. He turns his head away in shame.

“Thank you” he murmurs, not sure of what to think.

“So… your birthday is today.” You say tapping your thighs a bit. “How… randomly, I didn’t know”

“I like my birthday” He murmurs, drinking his beer hesitantly “Tis’ the day of Pi”

“Day of Pie?” You ask frowning, your arms in your back as you lean in the wall.

“Of Pi” he repeats “Like the pi from maths”

“Ohh, the circle thing” You say nodding and smiling, as you now understand. “Why is it the day of pi..? Ohh, it is because today it’s fourteen of March”

“Yeah” He says, as he looks at his shoes a bit embarrassed. He usually would think you were stupid, who the fuck confuses Pi with Pie? But you were the only one caring enough.

“You seem to like maths, like your.. Your shirt” you say pointing it out at his maths pun, and he becomes aware that he has been, in fact, wearing that shirt all the time.

Fuck, did he really fought with Oliver and with the rental people with a Math pun shirt? No wonder no one took him seriously.

“Ah, yeah…” He says awkwardly. You were very much engaging in the conversation, scooping on his interests little by little.

“Do you know that I am flirting with you, right?” You say looking at him in the eyes and he looks from his shoes to your face, a bit surprised and panicked.

“Ehm… me? What for?”

“Because you are cute, like I said” you repeat “And it is your birthday”

“You don’t have to pity me because of that…”

“I am not pitying you. It is not why I like you. Come on, do you think I am pretty at least?” You ask as you change your body weight from one foot to the other while looking at him with the most alluring smile he has ever seen.

God, the question sounds stupid, because you are not only pretty, but you are the hottest girl ever, looking at him as he freezes in place. Your eyes could trap him, as enchanting as they were, and your diminutive clothing was driving him insane.

“Eh… yes” he murmurs. “Very pretty…”

He seems perplexed about the straightforwardness of this whole thing, and he is very confused. Where has this night taken him?

“I meant what I said. The party… is meh. You and I could leave together, if you want”

He blinks, as his tongue wets his lips as he suddenly feels frozen in place. His eyes look at your expression as if you were joking, and he is unsure what to think.

“Uh… well, I have to get my cake, really, m-my mates saved it on the back of the library in hopes nobody would find it..:” He starts saying, not really sure why he is telling you this.

“Okay, we’ll search it” you say without any problem about it. “I could sing happy birthday to you and you can blow the candles”

That’s how you are now following him like a puppy, as he takes out the cake from behind some decorations that weren't hiding the cake very well, but it is mostly intact.

You two walk together, to leave and Michael thinks that never felt so ashamed. He felt like doing the shame walk, as he passed through the people with a fucking birthday cake and a pretty girl following him.

“Let’s go to your dorm!” You tell him with a happy smile, your hand on his shoulder as you lean closer to tell him that as you both walk together.

He is confused how you’ll give him a gift if they weren’t in your room, but he accepts, as his dorm isn’t actually so far away from the rented halls, so he guides you upstairs, and upstairs, at the point where he hears you whine because of your heels.

You look a bit amazed as he enters his dorm, leaving the cake on his desk and moving to turn on the bedside lamp. He looks around, and you are taking off your heels and being just in socks. He blinks as he looks at you. Doing that means she’s comfortable here, he thinks.

“Ah, eh…. Have a seat in the…” You sit on the edge of his bed, next to his pillows and he blinks. He wanted to say ‘in the desk chair’ but he guessed it was too late.

“Your bed is comfortable” You say smiling as you pat your right side for him to sit by your side. “Come, sit!”

Michael blinks. He dries his sweat palm by rubbing his hands on his thighs a bit awkwardly, as he takes a seat on the edge of his bed by your side. Your legs were tucked under your body, already comfortable, while he is rigid and tense, all awkwardness in comparison.

“And your mates are still at the party?” You ask looking at him, batting your eyelashes at him with a sweet smile as you lean your body weight to your hand, right beside him.

“Uhm… eh, well, they told me they left, so it was a bit rushed… I don’t know, I could call them if you.. Want to sing to me happy birthday and that…” he says a bit hesitant, and he is a bit unsure of his words when you chuckle a bit, if you knew a secret “B-Because we couldn’t… I mean we didn’t have the time for that, and my mum bought that cake because it is my favourite..:” he rambles as his cheeks are pink with embarrassment.

You were divine. In more than one way, you were the prettiest girl that he had ever talked to. And you were also the first girl in his dorm. And this close to him. And the first one to be interested in him.

“Ah, of course… I bet it is tasty, it is sweet that your mum bought it for your party” You say smiling, as you look at him “Well, I don’t think we should call them here”

“Uh… Why not? We aren’t many, we are just seven, and with you we would be a pair number, so we could play a chess match since we are a pair. If you don’t know I could teach you” He offers. God, why did he accept this? Because you were pretty and all smiles with him, but he didn’t know what women like you liked…

“It’s not that, Mikey” you say softly, looking at him with an alluring smile, leaning slightly closer to him, which is dangerous, because it is the moment he has to decide if to look at your face or your tits. “It is because I wanna give you a gift”

Michael blinks. “Oh.”

“Yeah… It would be awkward if they were here”

His mind is numb, and he looks at you a bit confused “... Because they already gave me a gift?”

You have to suppress a laugh, as you shake your head and look down a bit. He takes the opportunity to look at your tits briefly.

“No…” You say again, with that damn tone that he can’t decipher. “You are not really good at hints, are you?”

He stays silent, looking at you as he tries to get it. “Eh… no, but I am really good at maths…”

You chuckle a bit, as you look at his face with a look he (again) cannot decipher.

“Of course you are” you say sitting slightly closer, and he stays still as he looks at you and your tits coming closer to him “Your birthday it is in the day of Pi” you made sure to say the last word correctly, emphasising on it, and he nods a bit.

“Yeah…” he murmurs looking at you as he licks his lips, and his glasses slide ever so slightly on his nose as he has to look down at your face

“I wanna give you a gift…” you repeat, and it is now that he feels your hand slide to his thigh and closer to his crotch. And his breath freezes on his throat as he feels your hand move slowly to rub his dick from above his clothes, and the traitor practically gets hard instantly at something that isn't his own hand.

Michael practically freezes at your touch, as your hand slowly rubs his jeans where his erection was forming. Your eyes look at him as you smile, god, you were so provocative it made his brain go off. He couldn't take his eyes out of your face as he opened his mouth to pant a bit, a bit unsure of if to stop this or make it keep going. It is not like he doesn’t want to do… this, but a little part of him still thinks you are just mocking him and probably there were popular jerks waiting outside to make fun of him for falling for someone so out of his league.

But you were so pretty, lookin at him with tender eyes. As he seems so hesitant about it all. It wasn’t like he didn’t want this, but he just… wasn’t sure what to do, because this was confusing all his thoughts. How could he even impress you?

It is you who leans to capture his lips. On yours with a kiss, slow and calm, since he was so inexperienced. It was his first kiss, as a girl rubs his cock. He surely was dreaming.

“Do you want it?”

He blinks confused, his lips briefly open and all flustered as your hands keep on hardening his cock. “Um… yes” He swallows hard as his eyes are closed due to how good (and strange) it feels. To have a girl doing this with him.

“You’ve done this before?” You ask looking at his eyes, and his glasses are sliding on his nose and he doesn’ even notice, and your hand pat his cock which makes him whimper a bit.

“Eh… yes, but with myself. I mean, b-by myself, like with my hand, that is…”

You giggle at his naiveness, and you add “I meant if you have ever had sex”

Michael looks at you surprised, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose again. You were so direct, and this was unlike anything that had happened in his life. You confused him, with your plays and teases, he was more simple, and more straightforward. “No…” He whispers in reply, breathing a little heavily now as you squeeze him through his pants.

Your smile is confusing, since he doesn’t know what it means. Well, he doesn’t get the clue to. Most things you do anyways. “It is your birthday” you repeat “My treat, I’ll make you feel so good, Mikey”

He looks down at his pants as you unbuckle his belt. There was something about you, so seductive and sensual as you did all torturously slow. You weren’t rushed, and even did it for his sake, as he looked so frozen by it all.

You turn your head to look up to him as you also zip down his pants. He tried to think about anything else, because he felt on fire.

“Can you take these off?” You ask him kindly, and he looks. Briefly confused. “I really wanna suck you off”

Oh god. He almost cums on his pants. Oh god. He repeats on his mind as he moves a bit to take off his pants, at least to his knees. Oh god, oh god. His mind tried to remain sane, he tried to think about some maths, the comfort of simple logic tries to centre himself.

You look pleasantly surprised by his size, and you hummed in delight and he saw how you bite your lower lip. His cocks spring free, fully hard and the precum leaking out from the tip. He looked nervously at you, as his cock practically begged your attention and affections, and he could feel a turmoil form on his stomach as he pleaded with his eyes for you to do something about it.

“So big…” you praise him with a smirk, and he looks away in shame as he blushes. It was a good thing, he thinks, but he cannot help but feel hesitant.

You gently grab the base as your left hand rests on his left thigh, helping you as you lean down to capture the tip on your mouth, and he leans slightly back as if trying to squirm away. He looks at you, overwhelmed at the warm and moist sensation around his cock, ever so slightly, but so intense at the same time. He pants as if he just ran a marathon, looking down at you as his balls tighten and feel so ready to cum. But he forces himself not to.

“Oh… A-Ah, fuck…” he says as you take his dick out of your mouth to lick it, from his balls to his tip. God, no one really prepares you to know how easy it is to cum when a girl sucks you off.

He tries to think of equations, some diagrams or anything, anything to not cum so fast. You have his cock again in your mouth, sucking on his tip and your tongue moves to tease him as well. He was going insane.

He looks at you, with your bright eyes full of delight and mischief looking up back at him, as his cock was deeper and deeper on your throat, making its way through your warm mouth.

And you didn’t seem to mind how the drool was spilling out from your mouth, wettening your chin and how you gagged slightly the more deep you swallowed him. He was amazed, truly, looking down at you as you sucked him off.

It was different from how he imagined. He thought that at his first time, he would lead the way, he would be confident (because he knew about porn and how these things worked) and he would be dominant enough. Yet now, he feels unsure, trembling as his balls shaked in need to release, because you were amazing and so hot.

Maybe he didn’t know a thing about this all. He thinks, as his shoulders tense from how good the head of his cock feels in your warm throat. It sends shivers on his spine and he has to whimper pathetically.

“You are so perfect…, I swear” He mumbles without breath, whimpering pathetically. You would have giggled, because he didn’t need to swear, but he was cute to do so.

You move your hand to take the hair out of his face, and you grab his right hand, and he doesnt get at first what you mean, until you let his hand on your hair, it is when he understands that you want him to guide you and move his hips.

His own hips hesitate at the beginning , strange at how he is supposed to move without looking ridiculous or being uncomfortable. Instead, he takes your hair carefully, with both hands as he leaves a deep breath out.

His little whimpers are amazing, and so hot, you love to hear it. It was almost quiet, very low, but it was a delight to hear how he whimpers as his cock twitches in your mouth.

He moves your hair up and down on his body, fucking your face slowly. He didn’t want to be reckless, and when you needed to, he allowed you to have air from time to time.

His balls were on fire, and his dick was so hard and it felt so good as you deepthroated him that he was at the verge of cumming.

“I’m… oh, I'm going to cum, m’sorry…” he whimpers, moving your head onto his cock more harshly, but still careful not to make a mess and make you choke on his cock. He would feel bad if he hurt you like that, especially when you do him a favour.

His hips hesitate as he starts cumming, and he releases your head because he guesses it could be overwhelming. But you do not back away, rather swallow all of his spending in your mouth, savouring it delighted as you looked up to him, and he opened his mouth in awe.

You were his wettest dream come true.

What are the chances, the possibility that a pretty girl like you, just looked at him and decided to do this? To give him the best head ever? To help him lose his virginity, thinking he is worth the chance when you are out of his league?

He is a man of mathematics and logic. And even being good at probability, he knew the chances were almost zero. Almost.

And you looked so brightly at him as you cleaned some of his cum dripping down from your chin and licking it, not to waste a bit.

“It… it was good?”

“Yeah” you say without a breath, as you smile. “I love your dick, it is so… amazing” He can almost cum again when he sees you lick your lips.

“Oh.” He says a bit flustered, his mind almost numb from his orgasm. “T-Thank you…”

It is your smile who makes him smile a bit, awkwardly and with his cheeks red. He cannot believe this is luck. He is dumb struck, looking at your lovely face with still red cheeks and a wide smile. And you just sucked him off.

He is guilty, and he looks down at your tits for a brief moment, but looks quickly at your face, as if ashamed of doing that. But you still have that alluring smile, looking at him. He still doesn’t get what it means, but he goes along with the flow.

“You wanna see my tits?” You ask with a sweet tone, as if it was the normalest question ever. You have seen his eyes drop to your breasts and then to your face, it was cute.

Oh my god. He will likely cum immediately at the sight. He knows it, and his cheeks are red as he thinks of your question.

“Yeah, please…” He asks without breath, as he accommodates in bed trying for his cock not to give him away.

“I would have worn something way cuter if I knew this was going to happen” You explain taking out your jacket, and to his no-surprise, you didn’t wear a shirt underneath, just the bright pink bra that poked out of your jacket.

“You look beautiful” he murmurs looking at your still clothed breasts, and he then looks up to your face. “You… If this is your less fancy outfit, then god damn me”

You giggle at his words, he surely was odd from all the guys you knew. Perhaps his lack of experience, perhaps his nerdy personality. You don’t know, but you find yourself wanting to do all filthy and kinky things with this nerdy man.

You take off your bra, with quickness, as he looks at you completely mesmerised by your nakedness in front of him. He blinks at your perky nipples completely to his sight, and his mind just goes off. He is pretty sure that if you asked him what 1 plus 1 was, he’d say a pair of fine tits.

“You can touch me, Mikey” you say with a teasing tone, that makes him look at your expression for a brief moment. “Like you can grope my tits and all…”

The boldness of her offer makes him salivate, he is sure, and the desire within him is just intense and he knows he has to. His left hand reaches out cautiously and grasps your right breast.

Your soft sigh is enough for him to do it slightly more confidently, but still not too harsh. He doesn’t actually know how hard it hurts if someone gropes too aggressively, and so he prefers to be gentle with you, because you deserve all of it.

“Here. Give me your other hand” You say, and before you can extend your hand to grab his, his right hand goes to your other breasts, as if he was waiting for it.

Your breath hitches before you giggle a bit, as he doesn’t understand you. His face is red, from embarrassment, from touching a girl, a very much real girl that desires him too, and from awkwardness in him.

“I meant, give me your hand” You say taking his right hand from your breast and he doesn’t wanna let go, but he does anyway. “I wanna… Mm. I wanna to show you something”

Again with coded words, he was unaware of its meaning. But he waited for you to tell him, as you looked at him with a smile as you waited for him to say it.

“Oh, uh…” Michael mutters as his brain finally took notice it was his turn to say something. “Eh… okay? Show me…” he says unsure what to say.

You guide his left hand down, under your skirt. He just noticed that you had not taken off your skirt yet, as he was still clothed and with his pants down. But he didn’t mind it so much as you pressed his hand against your clothed pussy.

“You.. Y-You are really wet” he says slightly amazed, and you nod with a smile as he just leaves his hand there, a bit amazed as his fingers do the slightest move to spread the wetness on his fingers. You hum in delight as you feel how bold he might be becoming.

“Yeah, I am” you nod to him with a smile, and he looks at you flustered, as he leaves an awkward chuckle. ��And your cock is hard again”

He looked down at his dick, and in fact, he was getting hard again. He looked back at you, and he smiled a bit embarrassed. You were also smiling, and that was the only clue he got to know that you were having the time of your life.

“It’s because you are so hot…” he says in a weak attempt to justify himself. “and so pretty”

You laugh, as you kneel slightly to take off your skirt and kick it somewhere in his bedroom. You were only wearing your panties now, and he felt like a salivating dog wagging his tail at the sight. God he was pathetic.

He looked at you, and before he could try to do anything, you say.

“It will be better if you sit properly in the bed, not the edge. So you can lean back in the pillows”

He has no idea why he should lean back in the pillows, but again, he is not the one doing demands in this. In his eyes, you are doing him a favour, this was his wettest dream, and you surely got nothing from it.

He takes off his pants and he crawls to sit in the bed, his back against the pillows (he used at least three, he found it more comfortable) and so he watched at you with a smile, as you kneel up again, now to take off your panties.

“I swear that if i knew, I would have worn a prettier pair of underwear” you start teasingly, as you move your hands to the sides of your panties to take them off.

Oh god, he thinks once again, as the image of a naked woman is enough to send him into numbness again. He was just gaining confidence to take some part in this, but he was just so inexperienced, he had to decide on either cum desperately or trying to last longer, and he didn’t know that the last took all of his brain energy.

“Here” You say, grabbing his hand and leaving your panties in his hand. He looks at you, and you add “Another gift. You can keep it”

He looks at you, slightly amazed by it. He holds your panties in his hand, and he can feel the wetness of it, knowing that you were (and are) so wet right now drives him insane. He looks at you and he blinks a bit surprised, and honestly, much more aroused.

“Thank you..” he says as he appreciates this odd gift. He has no idea what use it may have apart from the sentimental one, but maybe it is like his own trophy?

You get comfortable, still kneeling on the bed, you crawl to be atop of his lap. Each knee on the side of his thighs, and he has to look up to see you. Maybe his favourite part about this is how your tits are in front of his face. He loves it.

“Your hand” She asks, and when she extends her hand he is clever enough not to make the same mistake twice. He passes her his hand, and she guides it to her pussy once again.

Now he knows. Why men went to war for women. Why Troy was destroyed, for stealing one woman. Why men went insane for the touch of a woman. He gets it now.

Your pussy drips wet as he touches it; bare and warm. He is surprised, in all honesty, as his fingers are rigidly moving forward and back. It is not rough; but it is rigid enough to let know his inexperience in the matter.

“I wanna make you feel good” He says looking at you, almost begging for you to teach him how. He wants to know the secrets that could have you squirm and moan crazily over him, as he was over you.

“This is about you” You say, your hands moving to the edge of his shirt, to take it off from him. He helps you in it, and he leaves a breath as now both of you were naked in front of each other.

Your soft hand caresses his chest. He is no muscular guy; yet you caress him so tenderly that he has to look at you with that puppy look. He really wants to make you feel good.

“Tell me what to do.” He asks again, he looks pathetically needy to you; eager to make you cum on his fingers, and eager to learn how to please you. His fingers linger hesitantly around your pussy, and he does his best guiding himself from little experience and instinct.

You smirk as you bite your lower lip as you let a little whimper out. He was cute and hot, more than most guys you knew from before. Maybe getting with the nerd was a fantastic idea.

“I want you to fuck me” You say instead, smiling at him “I want your cock, not your fingers- for now. Besides, this is about you. You are the birthday boy”

As your hips lower on his lap, he takes off his fingers and looks at you sitting above his cock. You grind slightly as he opens his mouth agape slightly, the mere thought of fucking you has him all excited, and aroused.

“I do wanna.. Do that” Michael says with a longing smile, as you nod to him. The feeling of your pussy rubbing against his own dick. He can’t take it anymore, he longs for you too much.

He is clumsy as he moves his hips, the head of his cock passing eagerly through your folds in search of your entrance, and he looks up at you as you moan at the feeling. He got something right.

His puppy eyes catch your attention as his tip presses on your centre, and you look down at him a bit breathlessly. “You can’t cum so fast, Mikey. I want you to enjoy it” He nods when you tell him that, and he leaves a shaky breath at the feeling.

“I… I’ll try…” He says looking at you, trying his best to hold back. But your body is too tempting for him. He is going to pass out, surely.

You move to search for something in your clothes, and you take a condom from somewhere. He isn’t too sure. He is looking at the ceiling waiting for you as he thinks on some hard equation from class, and he tries for the burning turmoil on his belly, full of lust and desire to calm down even a bit. He wants to have you moaning on his cock so hard, he will need strength.

Your movement is fluid when you put the condom on his length, and he is sure you have done this so many times. On other occasions, he’ll think something witty about it, but now he is rather intimidated. How is he supposed to compete with your experiences?

You move your hips slightly, as you start to sit down on his cock from one move. Slow and soft, he is sure you make sure it isn’t so intense for him, as your walls have a tight grip on his hard cock, and the feeling of finally being inside of a woman is incredibly intimate. His cock pulsates on your insides, and he has to look down, enjoying the sight of his thick cock stretching your pussy.

“Fuck…” You say breathlessly as you throw your head back, moaning in delight as you move your hips slightly.

“You’re so warm… and thigh..” he pants, his hands go to your hips as you ride him.

“It feels nice?”

“More than that” He says looking up to you, and he whimpers as you move your hips.

“I’ll let you get used to it.” You tell him softly “I think it could be a bit overwhelming, I guess”

“Yeah. A bit” he says with an awkward smile which makes you smile too, and you grab his cheeks as you lean a bit to kiss him softly.

His enthusiasm is endearing, as he tries to passionately kiss you, but you are sticking with the slowness of it all. He whimpers a bit on your mouth as he can feel how your cunt tightens around him.

Once you are apart, his glasses are again slowly sliding down on the bridge of his nose and you bite your lower lip as you hold a moan. God, what a hot nerd you are fucking.

“You are so amazing” He murmurs, looking up to you “And you feel so good…”

“Uh huh…” You hum as you whimper a bit, and so does he.

“And I have… I have never done this before…” He mutters looking at where your pussy swallows his dick.

“I know” You say, giving him a peck. “But you make me so aroused, so hot…”

Michael blinks a bit confused, but he gains slight confidence in this. He nods at you and he lets his hands fall by the side of your legs, and he can only focus on the way that you ride him. You squeeze him, in all the way he can think of. Your cunt is squeezing his shaft. Your knees are squeezing his legs. All of your existence squeezes him, and he loves the feeling.

He looks up at your face, you are moaning openly and you have your eyes closed as your hands rest on his biceps, helping you bounce on his cock. You look amazing.

And your tits, God, your tits. Bouncing on his face as you ride him, all perky and perfect for him, and the sight of your tits make him leak more precum in the condom, as he tilts his hips slightly up so he gets deeper in the warmth of your cunt.

He stays looking at you, while his balls are tightening at how wet your pussy is. He is mesmerised by you, he cannot even find himself letting any sound out of his mouth. He is almost numb, looking at you as he makes you moan like this.

He is making you moan desperately as you ride him. He is the one responsible to see how aroused he truly has you. You lean your body closer to his chest, moaning as you ride him, and he bites his lip desperate to cum.

His own hips rut back to yours, thrusting clumsily as you sink down on his cock. Your pussy clenches around his cock, and he’s fully engrossed in the sensation.

Michael wants to cum so bad. He doesn’t think he has ever been in such a need to cum.It’s all his foggy mind can think of, cumming and you. And cumming in you, those two subjects interrelationate.

“Tell me” He pleads, which makes you look at him again “Please, tell me how to make you cum”

His puppy eyes, how his glasses are slightly off on him, makes you moan almost on his face.

“Your hand” You say, and he got the clue now. He is a quick learner, and instead of letting you hold his hand, he moves it down to your pussy.

You moan at the feeling of his hesitant hand there, and he laughs a bit breathlessly, growing slightly bolder and he loves how desperate you seem. “Teach me”

“Fine, fine, wait..” You say stopping your movements, as reluctant you both may be to that.

You lean slightly back, your hand goes to grab his knee to help you not fall. He can see more of your pussy like that, and you sigh as if trying to think clearly.

“Here” You say, grabbing his wrist and moving it slightly up. He has no idea what you mean, but he is learning, so he follows your lead. “This is my clit, so you rub it… Not harshly, not too aggressive. It can be intense, but… you have to do it gently. Firm, but gently”

He has no idea how to do both, but he’ll try. Before he can start, you grab his wrist again, and he is confused. What else is there that you take so long to say?!

You take his hand up, and your mouth is quick to engulf his index and middle finger inside, wettening them with your own saliva before letting them go; not without leaving a provocative lick beforehand.

“Now” You say with a slight smile “Just gently.” You repeat, and he nods.

He is so going to cum just from seeing you lick his fingers so lustfully.

Michael tries his best, he does. His fingers find the little thing, so small, and he is unsure what response something so tiny could do. But anyways, he does as told. His fingers hesitate before rubbing slightly there, left to right at the beginning, and then up and down.

“F-Fuck!” You say almost closing your legs around his hand and dick, but you force yourself to remain open. Your other hand goes to hold you onto the mattress of the bed, so you don’t fall. You are leaning backwards now, and he can see your body in all it’s glory.

It does have an amazing effect, he realises, as he rubs circles on your clit and you moan even higher, your legs tremble as you force them open, and you start lowering on his cock again. Unlike the last time, you don’t take the time to make sure his cock enters and comes out fully, but you just grind against it, and when you move up and down, it is barely just in the base of his cock. But the tip? It never leaves your wetness.

He wishes he could see the bump of his cock on your belly. He looks at your abdomen, and he can practically imagine how the shape of his cock would poke out from your abdomen.

“I want to cum” He says, panting as his brain is overwhelmed. He is overdoing things, he tries to rationalise this, but between rubbing your clit, your cunt wrapping around his cock and his moans leaving his mouth, he feels like he will pass out any moment now.

“M-Me too” You whine, desperate as your hips rut more desperate on his cock, and that turns him even more.

He has made a girl desperate for him. And he’ll make a girl cum on his cock.

Michael makes sure to rub your clit in a delicious manner. Or what he guesses is a delicious manner. And since you almost sob your moans, he’d say he is doing a fucking amazing job.

“FUCK” He says as he feels your cunt squeeze him so much, that his mind practically goes blank “I-I’m cumming” He barely gets the words out as he feels himself spent on the condom inside.

He moans, loudly, it could be embarrassing if it wasn’t so pleasurable, and he has to throw his head back from the pleasure on how his shoulders tense up.

You grab his wrist, and he gets the clue that he has to keep his touch on your clit. Your cheeks are red from stimulation, and as he pants and whimpers from his orgasm, as he rubs your clit. It doesn’t take long, as you practically cum all over his cock, milking his dick and making sure his balls go empty.

Even if he orgasmed first, your peak leaves him dry, and spent in more than one way. He doesn’t think he will ever hear a girl moan so loud and pleased as you when you cum thanks to him.

When you fall to his side, he takes off the condom, leaving it on his bedside table. He looks at you, panting hard on his side, and he feels the same, as he looks at you, still mesmerised by you.

He searches for your hand, awkwardly, and he moves you slightly closer to him.

You both remain breathlessly, pants as you two face the ceiling.

“So” You start saying, and he turns his head to yours, and you have another of your mischievous, alluring smiles on your face. “Have you blown the candles?��

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey saltburn #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #ewan nation #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x fem!reader #smut #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #saltburn au

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sissylittlefeather · 5 months

Text

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 2

A/N: Time for the second chapter in this time-traveling/soulmate AU! This is a reader insert Elvis x fem!reader. I had an absolute blast writing this chapter. I really hope y'all enjoy it!

PS- thanks, as always, to my besties @ccab and @elvisfatass for listening to me scream about this series and helping me when I ask!

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! Drinking alcohol, lots of kissing, cussing, erections, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie... I think that's all.

Word count: ~5.5k

Maybe he'll just stay with you forever.

******

When you get back to the dorm, Elvis is all in a tizzy over your music. He wants to hear more, so you give him your iPod.

"What is this?"

"It's music. Here." You put the headphones over his ears and push play.

"Your records must be tiny!" He hollers over the sound of the music and you laugh.

"No records. The music is digital."

"Digital?"

"Oh man. How do I explain this? Just trust me. All the music is saved inside this thing."

"How many songs are in it?"

"It holds, like, thousands, but I think I have around 500. I don't buy as much music as I should." His mouth drops open and he looks down at the iPod.

"Can I take this back with me?"

"Absolutely not. But you're welcome to use it while you're here." He has another wave of hoping he never leaves.

"I love this." You can't help but smile at how excited he is.

"Okay, I need to get ready. I'm going to a friend's house for a game night tonight. Do you want to come with me?" He can't hear you over the music pumping through the headphones. You tap on his shoulder and he uncovers his ear.

"Huh?"

"Do you want to come with me to a friend's house for game night?"

"Oh, sure. I don't want to stay here by myself." Truthfully, he doesn't want to spend a minute away from you.

He goes back to listening to his music while you get ready. Watching you fix your hair and do your makeup is endearing to him. You realize he's staring as you swipe on your black eyeliner pencil.

"What?"

"Nothing. You're just real pretty." You feel your cheeks get hot.

"Thanks." You smile nervously. They definitely didn't exaggerate about how charming he is. Still, his presence is comforting for some reason and you'll miss him when you finally figure out how to get him home. That'll be your project tomorrow, though. Tonight's challenge will be introducing him to your friends without him finding out too much about himself.

When you're ready, you look over him to make sure he's not going to stand out too much. You get to his hair and frown.

"We need to do something about your hair."

"I can tell you right now what we're going to do. Nothing. My hair is fine." He moves his hands to his head protectively. He used half of your can of hairspray this morning fixing it. He's not going to let you touch it now.

"Okay, but no one does their hair like that anymore. You need to make it do this." You gesture to a poster on your wall of Joe Jonas with his hair in his face.

"No. Not happening." You laugh and reach up to tousle his hair and he grabs your wrists, laughing with you and hollering, "NO!"

He wrestles your hands back behind your back and pins you up against him. When he looks down at you, breathing heavily, you both stop laughing. The air between you is electric and he starts to lean in. His lips are almost to yours when there's a knock on your door.

"Y/n! Are you ready?" Katie busts through the door and Elvis lets go of you quickly. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were still here."

"Yeah, he's gonna be here for a bit. Is that okay?" You look at her with an awkward smile.

"Fine by me, as long as you two aren't too loud. These walls are thin, you know." You and Elvis both blush and she laughs. "We better go. I need to stop by the liquor store on our way there."

You nod. Luckily, Katie is 21, so you never have to worry about how to find alcohol for your parties. She walks out of your room and you look back at Elvis.

"I don't really drink." He shrugs.

"I know. It's okay. I hope you don't mind if I do."

"No it's- wait, how do you know?" You smile awkwardly again.

"I might've understated how much of a fan my grandma was. I know... things... about you."

"Like what else?!"

"Don't worry about it." You try to ignore your almost-encyclopedic knowledge of him.

"Come on, lovebirds! Let's go!" Katie hollers from the living room. Elvis takes your hand and you head out there to her. He's nervous, both to meet your friends and because you seem to know more about him than he does.

******

"Guys, this is John. We met in Tupelo. He's staying here with me for a while. Be nice, please." You say sternly as you look around the room at your friends. They introduce themselves and shake his hand. Your friend Ashley doesn't waste any time noticing his appearance.

"You look just like Elvis. Man, y/n, you have a type, don't you?" You laugh awkwardly.

"Yeah, John is a big fan of Elvis too. Hence the hairstyle." Elvis soaks in how commonplace it is for these people to talk about him. How do they all seem to know him?

You quickly change the subject before someone says something about him that he doesn't need to hear.

"So, games? I need a drink." You walk to the kitchen with Elvis in tow to fix yourself a beverage. He watches as you look through the liquor bottles.

"What are you looking for?"

"I'll know it when I- ah ha!" You settle on a bottle of Malibu coconut rum. Then, you open the fridge and pull out a bottle of pineapple juice and mix them together in a Solo cup. You take a sip and revel in the sweetness and he just watches you curiously.

"Can I try that?"

"Thought you didn't drink?"

"It's 2007. I think I can live a little." You hand him the cup and he takes a gulp and then looks at you wide-eyed. "That tastes like dessert!"

"You like it?"

"Yes. This one is mine." You laugh and make yourself another drink. This could get interesting.

Katie calls to you from the living room that it's time to start the first game. The evening passes and you play through a board game and a round of charades. He has you make him two more drinks and you notice his laugh gets louder and he touches you more. He's not drunk, but he's certainly feeling a little relaxed. You're not complaining, though, because you've had the same number of drinks and he is looking more and more irresistible.

You settle in to be a team for a trivia game and he wraps his arm around your shoulders and kisses your cheek. You giggle a little and lay your head against him. Katie watches the two of you and smiles. She knows how you've been alone for a long time. It's nice for her to see you happy, even with this stranger you picked up mysteriously in Tupelo.

"Oh, this seems unfair. It's a pop culture card." Your friend Brandon holds up a card with questions to ask the two of you. "Topic is Elvis Presley." Elvis whips his head toward you and laughs. He can't believe he's a whole card in this game. You don't think much of it when Brandon reads the first question.

"What year did Elvis buy Graceland?" Elvis sits up and hollers.

"1957!" Then, it hits you that there might be something on that card that he shouldn't know. Suddenly, you dive across the table and grab the card from Brandon, sending game pieces flying, before he can read the next question.

"Hey! What the hell?" Brandon yells.

"It's uh, an unfair advantage. Just pick another card."

"Seriously? Come on, y/n."

"Pick another card. Please." Elvis looks at you strangely and tries to take the card from you. You shake your head and put it in your pocket. The game continues and you try not the think about the fact that he almost had to answer a question about the year he died.

At the end of the trivia game, you decide it's time to head home. It's after midnight and you're not sure Elvis should have another drink. Katie agrees since she has to drive home. As you're walking to the car, Elvis wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your cheek again.

"That was fun. 2007 is fun." He whispers in your ear. He's obviously a little drunk, but so are you, so you don't argue. Instead, you turn to face him and throw your arms around his neck, stumbling backwards.

"We have a good time." When you get to the car, he presses you up against it with his body and looks down into your face. He leans down and presses his lips to yours gently. It feels like someone has lit your insides on fire in the best way possible.

"Get in the car, lovebirds." Katie yells at you from the driver's seat. He backs off of you and opens the door for you to slide into the back seat together. It doesn't take long for him to pull you into him and kiss you again. This time, it's an open-mouth kiss and his tongue dips in to move against yours. You begin to make out pretty heavily, his hands moving over your body.

"Hey! No sex in my backseat!" You hear Katie holler from the front. You both start to laugh and he kisses down your neck, muttering.

"No promises." Luckily, it's a short drive back to the dorm, so he doesn't get much further, but the elevator ride is not very much fun for Katie. Finally, you're back to your room and you stumble in laughing and kissing in turns.

"Elvis, wait." He pulls back and looks at you with his heavily-lidded bedroom eyes.

"Yes, honey?"

"Nothing, I just... I'm gonna go to the bathroom." He sits on the side of your bed and watches you walk away.

In the bathroom, you go and then stare at yourself in the mirror. You have an opportunity here to live a dream you've had since you were old enough to know what sex is. But it feels wrong to do it like this, with both of you drunk. You steel yourself for how you're going to tell him no and then open the door.

It turns out you don't have to worry about it, though, because he's fallen fast asleep on your bed, fully clothed. You sigh and then go to take his shoes and his belt off. You change into pajamas and climb into the bed next to him, taking a minute to just look at him. He really is as beautiful as you thought he would be. Pictures didn't do him justice. You reach out and run your fingertip across his brow and down his nose. This is a miracle.

Just then, he rolls over and puts his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. He kisses your forehead and whispers.

"G'night, honey."

You settle in for another night in his arms. Tomorrow you need to try to find a way to get him home, but tonight, he's yours.

******

When you wake up in the morning, Elvis groans and pulls you in close to him.

"Good morning." You say quietly. He groans again and you realize he must be feeling his drinks from last night. You go to roll out of bed and he grabs you and holds you tighter.

"No, don't leave." He whines.

"I'm going to get you some water. It'll make you feel better; I promise." He nods and lets you go.

When you come back with the water, he's sitting up on the side of the bed with his head in his hands.

"Thank you." He takes the water and gulps it down.

"You'll feel better after some food. Take a shower and let's go get breakfast." He agrees and makes his way to the bathroom. You have a half-second fantasy of asking if you can get in with him, but you shake your head and get rid of that thought. You need to focus on trying to find a way to get him home.

******

After eating breakfast, you both feel a lot better. You start to brainstorm ideas for what to do.

"What if we go back to where you showed up?"

"That's an idea." He looks down at his hands. He doesn't want to tell you that he'd rather stay, at least for a little while longer.

"Okay, well, let's try that today. You'll need to put your suit from the concert back on. You can't wear these clothes in 1957." He nods and you notice how quiet he is.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just... I'm not sure I'm ready to go back."

"Elvis, you have to. You don't have a choice." He nods again and looks up at you, reaching across the table to put his hand on yours. He rubs small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Do I have to go today?" The way he feels about you makes him never want to go.

"We don't know how long we might have to get you back. We need to try."

"Okay." He gives you a sad smile, pats your hand, and stands up, stretching and yawning. You make your way back to the dorm for him to change before you head to Tupelo.

******

When you get to the fairgrounds, you go back to where you were when he ran into you, or at least to the best of your memory.

"Now what?" He looks at you anxiously.

"I don't know. I've never done this before. You're the one who time-traveled. What did you do?"

"All I did was come down the stairs of the stage and try to find a place backstage to... well... I was backstage."

"Okay, but was there anything different about this show that hadn't happened before?" He blushes and thinks about the massive erection he had when he came off the stage. Surely that's not related.

"Not really, no."

"Nothing at all?" He looks at you exasperated. You have to remember.

"There was one thing. You really don't know what I'm talking about? Please don't make me say it."

"Oh! Oh my God. Yes. I remember." You laugh out loud and he rolls his eyes.

"I don't think that has anything to do with the time travel." He mutters.

"We don't know that. What if it does?"

"That makes no damn sense, y/n." He puts his hands on his hips.

"Okay, but we need to try to perfectly replicate the circumstances. So, y'know, get after it." You gesture to his crotch and try really hard not to laugh as he stares at you.

"I can't just make it happen!" His face is bright pink and you're about to die from suppressing laughter. You stand and stare at each other for a bit, not sure what to do next.

"Well."

"You could help me." He gets a devilish look in his eyes and you shake your head frantically.

"Noooooo, that's, I can't..."

"You had no problem last night getting me there." Now it's your turn to blush.

"Elvis!"

"It's true! This is your idea!"

"Okay? Never mind. You're right. This has nothing to do with the time travel."

"Now, we don't know that. We have to perfectly replicate the circumstances. That's what you said." He takes several steps towards you and you feel the energy build between you. You look up at him as he gets closer and puts his hands on your hips. "We have to try."

He leans down and kisses you gently a few times before the passion takes over and you throw your arms around his neck and slide your tongue into his mouth. Before you know it, you're both locked in a tight embrace, kissing deeply with your bodies pressed together. After a few minutes you pull back, breathing heavily.

"Is it working?" He shifts his hips and presses his erection into you.

"What do you think?" He kisses you again with a new desperation. There's a big part of him that starts to get worried that this will work. It definitely feels like you're on the right track, even if neither of you can explain it.

But other than a slight electricity and buzzing sound, nothing happens.

You get to the point where if you keep kissing, he's going to lay you down on the ground and have his way with you right there, and he almost does, but another group of tourists comes into view.

"Shit." He hisses and fixes his dick so that it's up under his belt again. You breathe deeply and smooth your hair.

"Let's go. This isn't working." He says a silent prayer of thanks and nods. You head for your car before the group of tourists can spot him and ask to take pictures or something, assuming he's the most effective tribute artist of all time.

In the car, he looks over at you from the passenger seat and smiles.

"So now what are we doing?"

"I have no idea. I'm supposed to go out with my friends tonight. I'm not sure you should come."

"Why not? I promise I won't get drunk again."

"No, that's not it. I just... we're going to a club. I don't think it's going to be your scene."

"What kind of club?" A nightclub doesn't sound so bad to him.

"A hip-hop club."

"Hip what?" You roll your eyes and laugh. Sometimes he sounds like your grandpa.

You rifle through the cds on your visor and pull one down that's labeled "rap mix" with some doodles drawn on it in sharpie. When the bass beat hits, he looks at you with his eyes wide.

"Is this-"

"Music made by Black people, mostly." You cut him off before he can say something indicative of the time he came from.

"And you listen to it?"

"Oh yeah. We don't really... separate... like it used to be. Things have changed quite a bit..." His eyes light up.

"I wondered, since your friends were... not all white..." You forgot that it might've been a little shocking to him to see how diverse your group of friends was last night. Still, he seemed to take it in stride.

"Anyway, we're going to a place where they play this kind of music and people dance."

"I like to dance."

"This is gonna be dancing like you've never seen before."

"Everything here is like nothing I've ever seen before."

"You promise you won't get all weird and judgy?" He puts his hand on his heart.

"I promise. How bad can it be?" You think to yourself that it might actually be better if he has a few drinks first and then put the car in drive.

******

A couple of girls come over to get ready with you and Katie and pre-party before the club. They fawn over how cute "John" is and mix up some Malibu and pineapple. He looks at you sheepishly.

"Can I have one? I won't have as many as last night."

"I'm not your mother. Have as many as you want." You laugh. He grabs a cup and takes a sip, smiling. He stays in the living room on the couch marveling at how many channels are on your tv while you go in the bedroom with the girls to get dressed.

"Y/n, he is SO CUTE. He looks super familiar, though. How did you meet him?" Your friend Nicole remarks.

"It's because he looks like Elvis Presley." Ashley chimes in with her observation from last night.

"Yeah, I guess he kinda does in the right light. I met him when I went to Tupelo." You try to downplay how much he looks like Elvis because he is Elvis. Now it's Katie's turn to jump in.

"I'd love to hear the story of how you met. Because you were only in Tupelo for a few hours. And somehow you came back with this perfect guy."

"Oh, well, I went to the fairgrounds and we just sorta bumped into each other." You leave out the time-traveling bit.

"Shit, maybe I need to go wandering around Tupelo too." Nicole laughs and you pull an outfit out of your closet. You squeeze into the hot pink bodycon dress and slide the black vest over it, fastening the single button up under your boobs. You finish teasing your hair and put on a pink headband with a tiny bow. Your eyeliner is perfect and you're excited for Elvis to see you so dressed up. Once everyone is ready two drinks later, you make your way into the living room to grab Elvis and head to the club.

When he sees you, his mouth literally drops open. Up until now, you've had on jeans and a t-shirt or pajamas. This outfit shows off all of your assets and he's in awe. The other girls notice the way he looks at you and start to giggle. He sets his drink on the coffee table and walks directly to you, never taking his eyes off of you.

"This outfit is... wow." You look around at the other girls just standing and watching.

"Thanks. What?" He shakes his head a little.

"Nothing, you're just gorgeous, honey, that's all." You have the thought that you should just take him into your bedroom and let everyone else go to the club without you, but Katie speaks and shatters your daydream.

"Okay, lovebirds. Let's go. The club is waiting."

******

When you get to the club, there's a line outside but you can hear the thumping bass beat from where you stand. It's September, so the evening is chilly and you shiver in your sleeveless dress. Elvis doesn't think twice before wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm. You meet up with some of your guy friends and make it inside fairly quickly. You let your friends walk a few paces in front of you so that Elvis's reaction will go unnoticed. Once you get to a place where you can see the dance floor, you're glad you gave him some space.

"Holy shit." He looks around with his eyes damn near popping out of his head.

"Okay, you promised. No judgy bullshit." He turns and looks at you.

"This is amazing."

"Wait, really? I figured you'd get all shy and weird because, well, sex." He gives you a disapproving look.

"I've had sex before."

"Well, I know that, but still. I also know how and where and when you grew up."

"Looks like I finally know more about me than you do. Do you dance?" You're pleasantly surprised by his reaction.

"I do. I actually love to dance."

"Well, then, let's go." He grabs your hand and makes a beeline for the dance floor. Once you're out there, you turn to him.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Hell yeah." You turn around again and put your ass on him and begin to grind. He laughs out loud and puts his hands on your hips. It doesn't take him long to figure out how to move with you. This shouldn't shock you as much as it does, considering all the stage performances you've seen of his. You knew he could move his hips. The song ends and you face him, ready for him to say he's had enough, but the next song is one of your favorites. You put your hands on his shoulders and body roll into him.

"Yes, honey, I like this." He leans down and whispers in your ear as you continue to move together. You spend the next three hours either on the dance floor or taking short breaks at the table with your friends before he inevitably grabs your hand and drags you out to dance again.

By the time you leave, you're both so drenched in sweat that his shirt is soaked through and your hair is wild. On the way home, you sit in the way back seat of your friend's suburban and he wastes no time in wrapping himself around you and kissing you. Your friends laugh as you make out like teenagers and Katie hollers.

"Yeah, they do that."

Back at the dorm, you barely notice your friends as they continue the party in the living room and you tumble into your room with Elvis. You can still hear the bass beat from the music in the living room, so you push him into a sitting position on the side of your bed.

You turn away from him, putting both hands on his knees, and grind your ass against him. Then, you bend over in front of him and touch your toes, slipping your shoes off. He reaches out and puts both hands on your ass cheeks and grunts.

"Mmm, don't stop."

You turn to face him and unbutton your vest, sliding it off and throwing it to the side. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your cleavage, pressing his lips to the soft skin of your breasts. You unbutton his shirt and pull it off of his shoulders. Then, you pull your dress up and climb onto his lap, straddling him. You continue to grind against him to the beat from the living room, feeling his hard cock pressing against you as you do. He slides both hands up your thighs underneath your dress.

"Can I?" He looks up at you desperately and you nod. He tugs on the hem of your dress and pulls it up over your head and off. As he looks at you sitting on him in nothing but your bra and panties, he whispers.

"Wow." You lean in and kiss him deeply, skin pressed against his. He leans back until you're laying on top of him in the bed and then rolls over so that he's on top. He leaves a trail of soft kisses down your chest and reaches behind your back to try to undo your bra, but is completely confused by how different the clasp is from what he's seen before.

"What the hell is this?" You sit up and unhook it easily. He shrugs. "Okay, I'll figure that out later."

You laugh and he removes your bra, tossing it to the side. He goes back to kissing your chest, paying special attention to your nipples. You arch your back with the sensation of his warm mouth on you. He kisses down to your hip and then slips your panties down to your ankles and off. Going back to your center, he slides one finger into you and presses it in and out.

"You want me, baby?" He asks, voice dripping with lust.

"Use your mouth first." You respond breathlessly. He freezes and then sits up, looking at you.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry, I-I-I've never..." He stutters nervously.

"Shit, I'm sorry, never mind. I forget how young you are."

"Now, wait a minute. I'm older than you." You don't know how to explain to him that you forget he isn't who he will become yet.

"It's okay. Just keep going."

"Tell me how to do it." You sit up on your elbows.

"It's really okay. You don't have to."

"I want to. Tell me what to do." A thought comes to you. Are you really the woman that teaches Elvis Presley this skill?

"Okay, well, just put your tongue here and move it around like this." You put your finger on your clit and rub it in circles and over the top, pleasuring yourself. You moan softly at the feeling and he nods and leans down, pressing his mouth to you. He starts to move his tongue and you moan a little louder. You feel him smile and he starts to get a little more bold with his movements. He slides his finger back inside you and continues licking your clit. He sucks on it lightly and then goes back to moving his tongue on you. It doesn't take long for him to figure out how to read your body for signs he's on the right track and you feel the coil of your orgasm tighten.

"Oh, fuck, Elvis!" You cry out as the coil snaps and you feel the waves of pleasure crash into you from every angle. He laughs as you come hard on his hand, feeling your walls pulse around his finger.

"Ha! That's never happened before. That was... wow." He looks at you with sparkly eyes and you breathe heavily through the high of your climax.

You sit up and push his pants down his legs and off, letting his cock bounce free. You stroke him for a bit and he leans his head back with his eyes closed and mouth open slightly.

"You want to fuck me, Elvis?"

"God, yes, y/n, that's all I want." You pull his hips down to yours and line him up with your entrance. He pushes into you slowly and rests his forehead on your shoulder until he's filling you fully. "Mmm, goddamn." His voice is husky and deep.

You moan softly as he begins to pump in and out of you with more speed. His hips slam against yours to the rhythm of the music still coming from the living room. You fuck like this for a while with him on top of you, but eventually you push him onto his back and climb on top of him, sinking down onto his cock.

"Fuck, yes, Elvis." You start to grind your hips against him, pushing him deeper and deeper and he groans.

"'M gonna come, baby. You feel so damn good." You nod and keep going and he pops his eyes open. "Do I-"

"I'm on birth control."

"What?"

"I'll explain later just don't stop!" He pulls you down to his chest and fucks into you from underneath until he can't stand it anymore.

"Fuck, yes!" He shudders and pumps into you weakly a couple more times. You lay on his chest for a bit trying to catch your breath. Then, you slide off of him and settle in the crook of his arm. He turns toward you and kisses you fully on the mouth. "That was incredible! I've never done it like that before!" You giggle at his enthusiasm.

"Like what? With the girl on top?"

"Yes and without pulling out."

"Oh. Yeah it's a miracle of the modern age."

"Well, I love it. Goddamn, I'm in love with you now." He laughs and kisses you again. You're not sure he's kidding, even though he laughs.

That's when you hear it. The buzzing sound gets louder and louder and you notice that there's a spot next to your bed where the air looks wavy.

"Elvis, look!" He sits up and looks where you're pointing.

"What is that?"

"I think it's how you get home!" His face falls and his heart drops. He wasn't kidding about being in love with you. He can't go now, not after what you just did together. "Get dressed! You have to go!"

"No, I don't want to."

"Elvis, you have to. You can't stay here forever. You have to be... you." You jump out of bed and gather his suit. "Come on!"

He gets out of bed reluctantly and gets dressed, looking at the mysterious portal with disdain. You throw on your robe and sit on the side of the bed. Once he's fully dressed, he pulls you into him and kisses your cheek.

"I'm not ready to leave you." All of a sudden, tears gather in your eyes and a lump forms in your throat.

"I know. But you have to." He pulls back and looks you in the eyes.

"I wasn't kidding about loving you. Come with me!"

"I can't! Elvis, please just go. This isn't going to get any easier." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He grabs your face and kisses you one last time.

"I'll never forget you, honey." He caresses your cheek and then turns away, walking through the wavy air. He disappears and there's small pop as the portal goes away too.

You sit on the side of your bed and cry, tears falling into your lap as your shoulders shake.

You love him even more than you did before. Now he's real and you'll never forget the days when he was yours.

******

A year later, you go to Graceland for the anniversary of Elvis's death. You never stopped looking for him after he left, but you're starting to lose hope that you'll ever see him again. You do an evening tour and somehow manage to find yourself alone in a corner of the house. You break down crying, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. You miss him with every fiber of your being.

And then you hear it. The buzzing sound. And the air gets wavy in front of you. Could it be? It has to be. You jump up and walk slowly towards the portal, your heart beating wildly in your chest...

******

Chapter 3 coming soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #50s elvis #how the web was woven

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trojanprinceaeneas · 6 months

Text

Gale x Trans Masc Reader (Mature)

I have so many in universe head canons as to how hrt and top surgery works in BG3/DnD so if anyone wants separate musings on that alone I’d be happy to explain, but for the sake of this incredibly self indulgent fic, Y/N Tav has top surgery scars and equivalent effects of hrt for trans masc ppl. It was originally supposed to be explicit but I decided I'd test the waters with this and maybe I'll write a part two? Let me know if you're interested in that :p

The camp was particularly lively tonight. Your allies were in high spirits, cheering and passing around bottles of liquor to celebrate their recent victory over Ketheic Thorm and the necromancer god Myrkul. The triumphant atmosphere engulfed the camp, making the impending threat to all of Faerûn feel momentarily distant. Even Lae'zel, who usually found such celebrations frivolous, had a hint of a smile as she sipped her wine.

You leaned back, savoring the moment, and watched your companions enjoy the respite. Tomorrow's problems could wait. But amidst the music and boisterous laughter, you noticed one person was missing—Gale. Your brow furrowed as you wondered where he might have gone. Perhaps he was engrossed in his Weave studies, as he often was.

As you set your goblet down, a different kind of warmth filled you. It was the memory of the tender moments shared under the starry sky, where your lips met his in a passionate kiss, and the world faded into a magical embrace by his design.Your neck prickled with excitement as you thought of the night Gale had shown you the power of the Weave, of the profound connection it created, of the sheer ecstasy you both gave into.

With a longing that mirrored the enchantment of that night, you decided to chase after Gale, eager to see how he was faring on this unusual journey, hoping he might reveal more about the Weave's mysteries, and yearning for the chance to share another intimate moment beneath the infinite tapestry of the cosmos. Perhaps this time, he would be interested in a more physical, grounded pleasure.

He wasn't far from the camp, just a short distance behind you. You could still make out the faint light of the campfire through the trees, and the occasional burst of laughter echoed in the night. Gale stood there, his back turned toward you, once again immersed in the intricate dance of the Weave. It was nothing as grandiose as the last time, but you did notice something akin to a small-scale meteor shower, as if the very stars were converging at his fingertips. Perhaps this time, he wasn't seeking to impress anyone.

Watching him manipulate the golden threads of magic was like witnessing an artist meticulously craft a masterpiece. Each movement was deliberate, and every detail was attended to with the utmost care. You stood back, admiring him for a brief moment, the soft radiance of the Weave illuminating his face, making him appear more ethereal than ever.

"Are you indulging in a bit of quiet observation?” Gale's voice, gentle yet playful, broke the silence. His focus remained on the Weave.

Your face flushed, embarrassed that you had been caught. "I was worried when I couldn't find you at camp," you admitted, stepping out of the shadows. "I assumed you'd taken a brief respite nearby."

"No need to worry, my intentions were far from dramatic," he replied, waving a hand to dismiss the Weave's projection as he turned to face you. "I simply needed a moment to gather my thoughts, that's all. Would you care to join me?"

"I didn't mean to interrupt anything," you said, approaching him hesitantly. "If you'll have me, I wouldn't mind taking a break from the noise."

"Please," he said with an inviting smile, almost eager, as he motioned for you to sit beside him. He gracefully lowered himself to the ground.

You settled beside him, relishing the chance for a quiet moment alone with Gale. As much as you enjoyed the bustling camp, it could at times feel overwhelming. These solitary moments with the Wizard of Waterdeep were truly treasured, and you were grateful for the opportunity to savor his company in peaceful seclusion.

"I've brought a bottle of wine," you remarked, reaching for your bag with a playful smile. "Unfortunately, there are no glasses, so we'll have to share straight from the bottle." The wine had already left you feeling a bit tipsy after sharing a bottle with the others, so you extended it to him, gesturing for him to take the first sip.

"Of course," he replied, reaching out to accept the bottle from your hand as you presented it to him. He took a long, leisurely sip, savoring the flavor for a moment before glancing at the label. "Ah, you managed to sneak a bottle of that exquisite find from earlier, didn't you?"

"Don't breathe a word of it to the others," you giggled, taking the bottle back and sipping from it yourself. "I wanted to share it with you. We don't get many moments to ourselves, after all."

"I suppose not," he agreed, his eyes softening as he gazed at you, as if he were savoring the sight of you. You felt a warmth rush to your cheeks.

As time passed, the two of you exchanged stories about your lives before the parasite, all while indulging in the bottle of wine. Laughter filled the air between you. Eventually, the topic of past lovers arose.

"So," you began, your words slightly slurred from the wine's effects, "Mystra. Did you engage in that astral projection thing often with her?"

Gale paused for a moment, considering your question. "Yes, I would say so," he replied. "Physical intimacy was... a concern for mortals, you see. Why indulge in such earthly pursuits when we could connect on a more divine level?" Despite the considerable amount of wine he had consumed, his speech remained clear.

"Have you been with mortals?" you asked, your curiosity tinged with a touch of self-consciousness.

"A few, here and there," Gale confessed. "But nothing I'd describe as serious, at least not until Mystra."

"Men?"

"Excuse me?"

"Mortal men," you repeated, your words escaping in a hushed, almost embarrassed tone. You felt a flush of self-consciousness, unsure of how he'd respond.

Gale noticed your sudden shyness and extended his hand, gently resting it on yours as a reassuring gesture. "You're not the first man I've been with," he admitted with a soft smile, "certainly the first to experience the Weave so intimately. The first mortal, in truth."

You appreciated the intimate gesture of his hand atop yours, his touch conveying more than words ever could. But there was another question that had been nagging at you, a curiosity you couldn't shake. You considered whether it was worth asking, knowing that the subject matter was intimate and personal.

The night he had shown you how the gods indulged in pleasure had been unexpected. Normal intimacy wasn't something that typically occurred without a series of conversations and deepening emotional connections. Curiosity, however, had taken hold of you. You didn't regret the experience; in fact, it had left you with a sense of wonder and contentment. Yet, it was undoubtedly a rare occurrence, a spontaneous act that you didn't engage in frequently, if at all.

Then again, you had never experienced intimacy through astral projection before. It had been a unique and exhilarating encounter, one that required little preparation as your clothes had remained on your person.

"Mortal men of the... Trans variety." The words felt almost silly, and the wine, you decided, was the culprit.

"Trans... variety? What do you mean?" Gale furrowed his brow, his expression showing genuine confusion. You kept your gaze on the empty bottle, head swirling with wine and nervousness. He appeared ready to inquire further when realization slowly crept in. "Oh, oh, I see. I didn't, well, it never occurred to me, really. I've never, um, encountered a mortal man of the trans variety, not physically. It's not because I'd find it undesirable, you understand, but rather, it's just... well, it simply hasn't happened. Or maybe I've never met someone who chose to, you know, disclose that aspect. But I want to assure you, it doesn't matter to me in the least." Gale's words tumbled out in a jumble, and his usually precise articulation was marred by a palpable nervousness that you assumed, was induced by the wine.

A moment of silence fell between the two of you, and your stomach stirred with a peculiar blend of uncertainty and wine-induced unease. It wasn't that Gale's response had been unfavorable, but the awkwardness of the moment was palpable. In your attempt to seek answers, you had ventured into uncharted territory and made things awkward. Awkwardness clung to the air like an unwanted guest.

Gale was the first to break the silence, his voice hesitant. "So then, the scars on your chest..."

You let out a light, nervous laugh. "Definitely not from an owlbear fight," you assured him, and a genuine smile began to replace the awkward tension. "They're the handiwork of a wizard doctor in Baldur's Gate. But, honestly, I find it much more entertaining to share absurd stories about them."

"Amusing, indeed," Gale agreed, and he joined in your laughter. The tension began to dissipate, leaving you both with a sense of relief. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted, and the atmosphere lightened.

"I'm sorry for springing that on you; it's been weighing on my mind for some time," you admitted as the laughter between you two gradually quieted down.

"Please, don't worry about it," Gale reassured you, his voice sincere and understanding. He reached out and clasped your hand securely. "I can only imagine it's a sensitive topic, and I'm glad you felt safe enough to confide in me. I want to emphasize that this revelation changes absolutely nothing about how I feel about you." His words were imbued with warmth and reassurance.

You couldn't be certain if it was the wine or just the intimate conversation, but a subtle heat spread across your face, your cheeks warming as you found yourself ensnared by his rich brown eyes. He met your gaze with an intensity that seemed to reflect your own unspoken desires. For a moment, you both shared a meaningful silence, savoring the reassuring presence of one another.

In this quiet interlude, you allowed your gaze to leisurely explore his face, tracing his features with your eyes. You followed the gentle curve of his silhouette, his magnetic eyes, and then down to the sculpted line of his jaw. Your attention settled on his lips, vividly recalling how they felt – soft and inviting, his beard lightly brushing against your skin, eliciting those delightful, ticklish sensations. Astral projection had its allure, but it couldn't quite replicate the tangible experience of another person's touch.

As your thoughts wandered, you couldn't help but ponder when Gale had last engaged in a physical, intimate encounter. The way he spoke of his solitude after Mystra suggested it had been a long while. Would he ever consider exploring such connections again? You wondered if it would be too audacious or imprudent to even pose the question.

Your reverie was abruptly interrupted by the tender sensation of a warm hand gently cupping your cheek. It cradled you, offering an assurance of safety and comfort. In response, your heart seemed to flutter in your chest as Gale drew you nearer to him. His gaze was filled with affection as he lovingly looked into your eyes, and all you could hear in that intimate moment was the soft rhythm of his breath.

"You look quite magnificent tonight," he whispered, his voice so hushed as if he feared disrupting the tranquil serenity that enveloped both of you.

A playful smile graced your lips, and you replied with a hint of cheekiness, "You spoil me with your words, Gale." Leaning in, you bridged the distance between your lips and his, planting a gentle kiss upon his mouth. The kiss was a wordless expression of your connection, and it spoke volumes of the unspoken emotions shared between you.

Gale held you close, his arms wrapped around you as he reciprocated the kiss with tenderness. You felt a bit lightheaded, the wine and the joy of the moment mingling in your senses as you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace. His lips carried the faint taste of wine, much like yours. Almost instinctively, your hands found their place behind his neck, drawing him into the kiss, a silent longing for his touch.

He smiled softly against your lips, then pulled away slightly to let out a gentle chuckle.

"Is this the real reason you sought me out tonight?" Gale playfully inquired, his voice laced with a teasing undertone that sent a playful spark into the air. He punctuated the question with another tender kiss on your lips, his lips lingering for a moment before he gently nuzzled his face against your neck. His warm breath washed over your skin, causing a delightful shiver to dance down your spine, and you couldn't help but respond by softly biting your lip, ensuring no unintended sounds could escape, all the while relishing the intimate connection between you two.

"My intention was simply to share a moment with you; anything more is a delightful surprise," you replied, your fingers finding their way through his luscious, wavy brown locks as you spoke.

"Shall we dance like the gods, then?" Gale whispered sweetly into your ear, his hands trailing down your back with a tender, alluring touch. His hands traced a path down your back, and the touch was like a soft breeze on a summer's night, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. The moonlight cast a silvery glow around you, and the distant murmur of the camp seemed to fade into the background as you were drawn into this intimate moment.

Your heart quickened, and your thoughts swirled in a whirlwind of desire and curiosity. As his hands continued their tender exploration, you found your own fingers lightly grazing the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. The world around you faded, and all that remained was the connection between your bodies, an electric current that left you breathless and eager for what lay ahead. You pondered the question for a moment, wondering if the magic weave sex was something you were interested in pursuing again.

"Actually..." you began carefully, pulling away slightly to meet Gale's gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and shyness. "I'd like to experience you as you are."

Gale paused, a look of slight astonishment flickering across his features, as though he needed a moment to process your words. "As I am?" he repeated slowly, seeking confirmation.

"If you'll have me, that is, as I am," you replied with a shy smile, your voice a delicate whisper. "I've been wondering if perhaps you'd like to explore more about... men of my variety."

A soft, thoughtful expression crossed Gale's face. He leaned in, his forehead gently touching yours, and your noses brushed in a tender nuzzle. "If that is your desire, I would be more than willing to oblige," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with warmth. "You've certainly piqued my curiosity, and I'm always eager for new learning experiences."

Both of your lips met in another affectionate kiss, and as the night continued to unfold, it felt as though the rest of the world had dissolved, leaving you and Gale entwined in a lover's embrace.

#bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldurs gate 3 #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale x transmasc reader #x reader #yang writes #pls pls pls pls leave a comment I need validation

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mrs-gucci · 8 months

Text

A Masked Escapade

anon

Thank you for taking requests! Sextember makes me think of Jacques taking you to a kinky sex party that’s kind of dark and freaky.

the settings and some events in this story are inspired by a real life 1700s sex club called "the hellfire club", which I believe I've used as inspo before (but this one is different, I promise lol). also, the book he reads from & the lines he reads are from a real 1700s-era piece of erotic literature!

warnings. SMUT (18+ ONLY), a sex club, reader is a high-class prostitute, erotic readings (nothing super explicit mentioned), exhibitionism, some dirty talk, unprotected p in v, no creampie.

word count: 1k

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **

collage by me :)

The night is dark, the only light coming from the crescent moon hanging above as you step onto the boat along with the other ladies. Everyone is wearing a costume and mask of some kind, the desire to conceal identities common on an evening like this one.

You're taken to the entrance to Pierre's remote estate at Wycombe and are guided in by a man, also in costume. Waiting for you in the large dining room was your date for the evening, Sir Jacques Le Gris. He greets you with a smile and wraps an arm around you as you take a seat on his lap.

A night of debauchery is about to begin...

Dinner starts off with just food, but soon takes a sinful turn when one of the guests retrieves a certain book from the library in the other room, which then begins the evening's erotic readings.

Jacques is a spirited participant, enjoying the showmanship of it all as he reads the explicit words written out on the pages.

"A Dialogue Between a Married Lady and a Maid," he reads off the cover, then flips through the pages before landing on an excerpt. "There is between the thighs, just at the bottom of the belly, a piece of flesh...underneath, hangs in a bag, or purse, two little balls, pretty hard, and the harder the better. And in them is contained that thick white liquor."

Everyone chuckles you smile slightly, feeling some warmth begin to blossom throughout your body.

"He took hold of that place which distinguishes us from men. At the same time he cried out, 'O! I have a maid! A virgin to my share!'"

You take your lip between your teeth as he keeps reading.

"His member was stiff and hard as a horn. Just as he had finished, my mother, who had heard me shriek, came into the room. 'What a happy girl you are!' said she. 'Pluck off this smock, which I will keep for a relick, since it is stained with thy virgin's blood.'"

Jacques hands the book off to another reader while everyone applauds his delightful reading. When he sits back down, you get onto his lap and rest a hand on his chest with a small smile.

"What an bewitching reading," you say, tugging playfully at the ties of his shirt. "I thoroughly enjoyed myself."

He enjoys this, chuckling softly as he wraps his arm around you and gives your hip a little squeeze.

"I am so glad to hear that you enjoyed it, poppet," he says in a low voice, eyes beginning to darken with lust. "I hope that soon, I get to feel just how much you enjoyed it."

You let out a shaky breath at his words, finding it very hard to keep yourself contained as the readings finish up. But eventually, the party moves down to the caves and everyone files into a large room with several rooms branching off of the main one. You know what's set to happen next, and some of it has already begun, considering a few people immediately make their way into the other rooms.

You hum as Jacques begins to tease you and chase you around the room like a hunter stalking his prey. You always enjoy the little games Jacques plays at club meetings, so you go along with it, running away and dodging his grabs, which only excites him more.

"Come come, I will only chase you..."

He pulls off his shirt, revealing his toned torso, then grabs a couple pieces of bread and pops them into his mouth. He suddenly dashes at you and tosses you over his shoulder. Everyone around you two laughs at the sight as you begin to playfully wriggle around, pretending to try and break free from his grasp.

"Put me down," you say, chuckling as he carries you over towards the large bed. "Put me down this instant!"

Several of the girls get onto the bed as he drops you down onto it, and the women all gather around you as Jacques pushes your skirts up. Jacques lowers his pants enough so that his hardened length is exposed. The ladies all look upon his sizable shaft as he gives himself a few strokes, then nudges the tip against your cunt before thrusting in, grunting softly at the feeling.

You gasp softly at his size and he gives you but a moment to adjust before he begins fucking you slowly, finding his ideal rhythm.

"Good God," he sighs, hands on your hips. "What a lovely little cunt you have, poppet."

He truly means it, and it isn't something he often says to the ladies he beds. But you...you're different. His cock begins to twitch inside of you as his hips pick up pace. The women gathered around your head hold your arms and look at Jacques, greatly enjoying the sights and sounds he's providing them.

"How lucky a lady must be to take Sir Le Gris inside of her," one of the young women says, biting her lip. "I imagine he feels absolutely wonderful."

You let a soft whimper leave your lips and nod, eyes shut in pleasure. "Indeed."

Jacques chuckles breathily, groaning lowly as his peak approaches rather quickly. He always hates having to pull out, he wishes he could bury every last bit of his seed deep inside of you, but alas, rules are rules.

Suddenly, he's pulling out and allowing his white liquor to paint your skin and delicate folds with a gruff growl of relief. Your hands tighten in the sheets, then release when he pushes back and grabs his cup of wine, taking a long drink.

You wipe yourself off with a cloth that one of the girls provides you, then turn over and sit up on the bed. He lets his hand caress your cheek for just a moment, the closest you'll ever get to a 'thank you' or 'I enjoyed our time together', then looks up at the ladies with a charming grin.

"Alright. Who's next?"

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

#mrs-gucci #mrs-gucci's sextember #adcu #adam driver character #adam driver character universe #adam driver #adcu fanfiction #adam driver fanfiction #adcu fic #adam driver smut #adcu smut #jacques le gris #jacques le gris smut #jacques le gris x reader #jacques le gris x you #the last duel

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ash-blythee · 9 months

Text

V A L - P O T E N T I A L C O N N E C T I O N S / P L O T S

Below the cut are multiple potential connections & plots for a character to potentially take up with VAL DUPONT. Please be aware of any trigger warnings before proceeding, and message me if interested!

TW // drug mention, injury mention

🏃‍♂️ Chase Me - You have seen the wiry and odd British witch in Greywood, and you are fascinated. Perhaps it’s the accent, or the big shadowy dog that walks beside them, but you find yourself striking up a conversation with him one day at a coffeeshop or a bar. It’s... odd. The conversation goes all over and yet nowhere, all at once. But it’s enticing. And Val seems to be just as oddly enthused by you, intrigued... and so it’s a cat and mouse. Every so often you run into one another, and the jokes and little jibes begin again. Is it flirting or are you teasing? Is he interested or just enjoying watching you sweat? It’s maddening, but you find yourself craving it. Unbeknownst to you, he’s enjoying every little moment of it. After various run-ins, you’ve finally exchanged contact info, and you’re texted about a night out for drinks. Do you accept and end your little cat and mouse, or leave Val wanting?

🩸 Mark Me - You were sitting at a dive bar on one of Val’s first nights in Greywood. He had come in after a grueling day of unpacking and moving things around in an old home that wasn’t ready for him to live there yet. You both drink, and chat. You go back to his place, and you describe in detail the historical home and the old furniture left behind, whispering in his ear as you both get closer and closer. And you two are a giggling mess, a tangle of legs and sheets as things get rough, exciting... you’re holding him to the bed, and the shitty bed frame snaps. The both of you fall over and Val is cut on the splintered, broken wood. Suddenly your night of passion is cut short when an ambulance is called. Val is insistent that you go home, embarrassed. Maybe you try to stay, maybe you call it a night. You forget to get each other’s numbers... but Val gets stitches and now has an impressive scar on his forearm to mark the occasion. The next time you see him... do you strike up a conversation again? Or is it awkward between you, now that the liquor is gone and it’s daylight?

💭 Remember Me - You know that face from long ago, at least 8 years back. A trip to the UK. A stay with a coven out in Battersea, or even a fortuitously timed vacation. Val’s face was younger then, cherubic and vibrant with a rebellious streak. He was eager to show you around the beautiful town, to introduce you to family and locals during your stay. Val’s magic was hardly manifesting- inky shadows forming floating blobs, or his own shadow warping and dropping back to the earth. But Val didn’t care much about his magic- instead, your summer fling was on his mind. You both spent almost every day together, and (thankfully) Val’s mother said nothing rude, just offered an extra plate at supper. But vacations come to an end. Upon the last few days there, you heard Val speaking quietly to his mother about his magic. She urged him to work on it ‘before his vision was completely gone’. A few days later, you both said goodbye. And while you kept each others’ numbers, maybe you didn’t message back. Maybe you didn’t want to get held down to something long-distance... maybe you were both just too young and you wanted to explore your options. But now you’re both in Greywood, and it truly has been years. Val is now an author, and blind... and maybe he hasn’t recognized your voice or noticed you just yet.

✋ Assist Me - You are an independent person, someone who doesn’t take any crap... but you need cash. And Val’s assistant has been stealing money. He’s upset, having just fired one of the people he’s had to trust the most with his appointments, scheduling, phone calls, and even editing. But now they're alone and can’t get things done on their own. The publishers offered an assistant from their company but having someone from NY over phones isn’t the same as talking face to face. Enter you. Val trusts you... and despite being upset, and nervous for someone to abuse his trust again, he’s hopeful. Val’s offered you a bit of extra cash to organize appointments for them. You have the logins for their professional email and field calls. And... you’ve been doing pretty well. Val’s impressed, and has started asking you around more often to chat about his books, drink booze until late and smoke weed while brainstorming. Do you like him? Does he like you? Maybe! Or maybe you both just work amazingly as colleagues.

💨 Breathe Me - You knew from the start that Val would be a good-time friend. While he’s been in Greywood, he’s tried to get himself out there, and you like his mellow but eccentric personality. They're a smoker, a drinker, and you love a relaxing time. And so you’ve become relaxation buddies. Sometimes you come by when he’s writing, and you both sit in the big living room on the sofa, laid back and smoking pot. They'll order pizza or Chinese food, or both, and you sometimes sit in silence, or they'll play with your hair as they talk casually into their phone, letting it jot down every detail for their next chapter. Sometimes you both fall asleep against each other, curled up on the big sofa or in his bed near the big, rounded window. You haven’t really done anything yet maybe, but you could say the two of you are close friends. Sometimes you just sit there, breathe in each others smoke and chuckle, making dumb jokes back and forth to each other.

#valconnections #valmuse #valplots #!!!! just doing syd's hahaha

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theangellies · 10 months

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P O T E N T I A L C O N N E C T I O N S

Val Dupont, 35, He/They, Brotherhood Intel & Author

FULL INTRO // TIMELINE

Under the Read More are different connection ideas based on Val’s life. Feel free to message me or comment on the post if any of these strike your fancy and I can reach out to you to plot more. 💙

🏃 Chase Me - You have seen the wiry and odd Irish author in NYC, and you are fascinated. Perhaps it’s the brogue, or the air that they carry of seeming to know just a little too much, but you find yourself striking up a conversation with him one day at a coffeeshop or a bar. It’s... odd. The conversation goes all over and yet nowhere, all at once. But it’s enticing. And Val seems to be just as oddly enthused by you, intrigued... and so it’s a cat and mouse. Every so often you run into one another, and the jokes and little jibes begin again. Is it flirting or mocking? Is he interested or just enjoying hearing you sweat? It’s maddening, but you find yourself craving it. Unbeknownst to you, he’s enjoying every little moment of it. After various run-ins, you’ve finally exchanged contact info, and you’re texted about a night out for drinks. Do you accept and end your little cat and mouse, or leave Val wanting?

🩸 Mark Me - You were sitting at a dive bar on one of Val’s first nights in NYC. He had come in after a grueling day of unpacking and moving things around in a condo that wasn’t ready for him to live there yet. You both drink, and chat. You go back to their place, and you describe in detail the ins and outs of the rooms, some of the old furniture left behind, whispering in his ear as you both get closer and closer. And you two are a giggling mess, a tangle of legs and sheets as things get rough, exciting... you’re holding him to the bed, and the shitty bed frame snaps. The both of you fall over and Val is cut on the splintered, broken wood. Suddenly your night of passion is cut short when an ambulance is called. Val is insistent that you go home, embarrassed. Maybe you try to stay, maybe you call it a night. You forget to get each other’s numbers... but Val gets stitches and now has an impressive scar on his forearm to mark the occasion. The next time you see them... do you strike up a conversation again? Or is it awkward between you, now that the liquor is gone and it’s daylight?

💭 Remember Me - You know that face from long ago, at least 8 years back. You were visiting Boston University for work or for education. The pride of the journalism department, Val Dupont, had such a rounder and younger face then, cherubic and vibrant with a rebellious streak. He was eager to show you around the beautiful campus, to introduce you to his queer little found family and the various eateries and shops. They said nothing about the fact that his eyesight was dwindling- and you wouldn’t have been able to tell unless you looked for You both spent almost every day together, and (thankfully), his many roommates just offered an extra plate at supper and shut up about it. But trips come to an end. Upon the last few days there, you heard the journalist major speaking quietly with a friend and roommate about their waning vision. A few days later, you both said goodbye. And while you kept each others’ numbers, maybe you didn’t message back. Maybe you didn’t want to get held down to something long-distance... maybe you were both just too young and you wanted to explore your options. But now you’re both in NYC, and it truly has been years. Val is now an author, and blind... and maybe he hasn’t recognized your voice or noticed you just yet. ( Alan )

🤚 Assist Me - You are an independent person, someone who doesn’t take any crap... but you need cash. And Val’s assistant has been stealing money. He’s upset, having just fired one of the people he’s had to trust the most with his appointments, scheduling, phone calls, and even editing. But now he’s alone and can’t get things done on his own. The publishers offered an assistant but the last one was from them and Val is adamantly against it. Enter you. Val trusts you... and despite being upset, and nervous for someone to abuse his trust again, he’s hopeful. Val’s offered you a bit of extra cash to organize appointments for them. You have the logins for their professional email and field calls. And... you’ve been doing pretty well. Val’s impressed, and has started asking you around more often to chat about his books, drink booze until late and smoke weed while brainstorming. Do you like them? Do they like you? Maybe! Or maybe you both just work amazingly as colleagues.

🧘 Breathe Me - You knew from the start that Val would be a good-time friend. While he’s always chatting up someone, you like his mellow but eccentric personality. He’s a smoker, a drinker, and you love a relaxing time. And so you’ve become relaxation buddies. Sometimes you come by when they’re writing, and you both sit in the big living room on the sofa, laid back and smoking pot. They’ll order pizza or Chinese food, or both, and you sometimes sit in silence, or he’ll play with your hair as he talks casually into his phone, letting it jot down every detail for his next chapter. Sometimes you both fall asleep against each other, curled up on the big sofa or in his bed near the rounded window. You haven’t really done anything yet, but you could say the two of you are close friends. Sometimes you just sit there, breathe in each others smoke and chuckle, making dumb jokes back and forth to each other.

#valconnections #potentialconnections #connections #!!!!

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cumspider · 2 years

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hello all. i know i’m not on here often or don’t have a lot of followers but this is the only social media site where my roommate doesn’t follow me so if you’d like to enjoy a rant and some tea, enjoy: btw i’ve forgotten how to do a read more so sorry i’ll tag it tho)

like i love her and admire her so much and she is my best friend and college would be nothing without her but i’m also very fucking jealous and angry at her i think.

we had met this boy at the same time, and prior to meeting him we had known of each other through mutual friends and i thought he was cute and was excited to meet him and she thought he was okay. so fast forward to one of our last nights on campus and he and our mutual friends come over on a random night, before our little get together that we planned. i look like shit and trying to finish my end-of-semester work so i don’t go downstairs where they are. they leave, and my roommate all of a sudden she thinks he is HOT like insanely hot (she confuses him for a friend of a friend at first)

but she knows how interested i was in this man before meeting him. i didn’t really care she thought he was cute, though. because he is. anyway flash forward to the night of our little get together and everyone is drinking and he cannot handle his liquor lmfao so he gets drunk and talks about how well he fucks and all this shit he can do to me and just…phew 👀. i’ve never had a man declare what he was declaring to me that night, incredibly drunk, in front of all of his friends…..ahem. anywho not the point. so he’s saying all these things and meanwhile my roommates like “oh my God you should totally say smthg to him! let him know you’re interested!” and i’m like…i’m not preying on a fucking drunk man; he’s saying all this shit to me he wouldn’t have said sober and i’m not evil and also im... inexperienced in MANY facets. so fast forward again he’s throwing up on our fucking couch 😂 he spends the night there and I REMEMBERRR HIM DM’ING ME BEFORE HE LEFT!!! that he was sorry what had happened but had MEANT EVERYTHING HE SAID AND DONE!!!! i saw it and i was like omfg…and went back to sleep. i woke up again and then boom it’s fucking gone (because i had never dm’d him prior so you can delete it before they accept the convo). but we never really text after that, just small interactions on twitter. him and my roommate DO text though. and i don’t know i had spoken about it before on here how i thought it was weird how she basically goes after guys i’m too afraid to because i’m so inexperienced :p it is not her first time doing this to me ( i think the first guy was actually using her to get closer to me but he has a gf now and i never brought it up so lolz). now we are all in a little friend group (+ another guy who is his bf and our mutual bf) and idk man. she touches up on him and she got drunk and they ended up on the floor and he was like on top of her and held her face and i fucking malfunctioned a little bit idk. i felt so jealous. that should be ME but i’m poosie and insecure and don’t have any confidence despite the fact he has OUTWARDLY admitted his attraction to me. it’s just this weird fucking like/lu$t triangle and it wouldn’t have even been a thing if i had just not been a wimp and texted him but i always feel like i’m in a state of being fucking stuck and. yeah idk. she doesn’t go for men unless they’ve admitted they’ve liked me before and even if i want to i don’t ever go for it SHE does like YUCK YUCK YUCK!! doesn’t that violate girl code or sumn? anyway……..yerp :p this is my life i wish i could put this into some fucking poetry but i can’t man i’ve had such bad writers block for a couple years now. but ya thnx 4 reading

#long post #long reads #tldr

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juletheghoul · 3 years

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Oblivius Chapter 7

This is a CHONKY BOI. THE BACHELOR 'PARTY' IS HERE PEOPLE.

This is by far my longest chapter and I had most of it written before I even posted the second chapter of this story. Makes me SOOO happy how pumped all of you are to read this, it has taken over my life. Keep messaging! Keep sending me asks! 💖

Would love to do little drabbles, memories - anything to do with these two (except spoilers of course)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: TW: INFIDELITY 👀 Angst, yearning, kissing, **18+ [no minors] SMUT** p in v (sex wrap it up) Oral, F & M receiving, language (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Prev Part Playlist

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Age 28:

“I just love her, I love her so much and there’s nothing I can do.” He was drunk and in a bad way.

“I know Fish, it’s tough from here but maybe when you get back you can talk to her.” He knew Pope was trying to make him feel better, but when he’d spoken to his mom earlier in the week and he’d heard that she was seeing someone- it had broken his heart.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting - she’d never promised anything but he had this hope that she’d wait for him. That she’d be there to greet him with the love he’d always craved from her.

“She’s with someone else, I just want her to want me.” If he kept going down this road he was going to cry. He couldn’t cry here. Not in this bar and not when it was crawling with other soldiers.

“I think you should just talk to her when you get home, Fish - things might change when you see her again. Or do the grown up thing, and move on.” He looked at him, regret and heartbreak on his face.

“There’s no one like her.” He said it more to himself than Pope but he heard it all the same.

There was a pretty girl walking over to him now, a shy smile on her face.

“Hi - I’m Claudia - can I buy you a drink?” She wasn’t Spills, but she was very pretty.

-------------------

**Present Day**

The week leading up to the wedding was a blur. It simultaneously flew and crawled by. Schrodinger's week.

The dinner was coming up and with it a curious feeling was settling itself in your stomach. A strange mixture of desperation and acceptance. The acceptance told you that if Francis wanted to get married then you should keep your mouth shut and let him get on with his life.

The desperate, possessive part of you reminded you that he was your perfect match, that you shouldn’t let Claudia have him when he so obviously belonged to you. How would you accomplish that though? How could that be done without him hating you for ruining his wedding?

When you were sitting in the restaurant surrounded by the wedding party both those thoughts plagued you. They kept you quiet and pensive, present, but secluded within your own mind as they fought for dominance.

Benny sat next to you like always and you got the sense he was gearing up to make a move and you didn’t exactly know how to feel about it. Your mind was battling over that too.

Do I go out with him and try to get over Francis? Or do I turn him away, and keep pining over a soon to be married man? Choices.

Claudia was almost trembling with excitement, everything she said, everything she did was grating. It all irritated you and you felt the need to dampen her spirits. A malicious little part of you wanted to bring her down a peg. Maybe it was her attitude at the Bridal store. Maybe it was just plain old mean-spirited jealousy. With the dinner almost up, with the bachelor party still to come you couldn’t help it.

It was like a compulsion. The words crawled up your throat and the possessive, angry part of you had to spit them out.

“Oh my God Francis, remember our pact?” Your face was a mask of innocence - just reminiscing with an old friend.

Frankie’s expression changed then, from the same tentative joy he’d been wearing all night to something forced and fake.

“Barely.” His eyes were boring into you, the intensity seemed to be demanding you to shut up about it. While everyone else was still relaxed and unaware of the land mine you’d stepped on, you saw the look Pope was giving you, he knew.

“What pact?” Claudia asked with a breezy laugh.

“It’s silly really-” Frankie cut you off.

“It’s nothing, just bullshit we talked about when we were kids.” He tried to smooth it over with her but she didn’t like that. She sensed his hesitation and when Pope tried to engage them in conversation she challenged him.

“If it’s nothing, then Spills can tell me.” It was said with a bitter sweetness, she had seen through his avoidance and she wasn’t interested.

“Well, when we were in our early twenties - Francis and I decided to make a marriage pact.” You were smiling as though it was nothing and Claudia laughed along with you but you heard the edge in it. She wasn’t amused, and neither was Frankie.

“See honey? It was dumb. Just something dumb kids do when they don’t know any better.” He pulled her close but you could see the stiffness in the way she held herself. You didn’t expect his words to hurt you like that, and all of a sudden you regretted bringing it up.

What seemed like a good way to rile Frankie up was just a cruel little jab at a relationship that you didn’t belong in. A relationship that would go on despite you; in spite of you. You got quiet after that and you saw that he couldn’t bear to look at you.

The battle in your mind was over, and acceptance had won.

You quietly excused yourself to grab some fresh air, the shame at your ploy to ruin Claudia's night sat in your gut and you felt horrible. This wasn’t how you were raised, despite your feelings about her or Francis it was cruel to do this to her on the night before her wedding.

Fuck, now he’ll leave with her for sure. What have I done?

“Hey - thought I’d find you out here. You okay?” Benny had come out looking for you and you smiled at him.

“I’m okay - just needed a minute away you know?” He sat beside you and you tried to focus on him. On his handsome face, how tall he was. If you’d met him a few years ago you would have been all over him.

“Yeah I get that.” He scooted closer to you, until your legs touched and smiled at you. “Look, I know you’re close to Fish, but I’d really like to take you out.” He blurted out the words and you couldn’t help but let out a surprised oh!

He was smiling and he took your hand in his, he was looking at you intently now, making his move.

He was closing in and for a moment you forgot about your shame, about everything except Benny’s mouth. The kiss was soft, tentative. He was testing the waters with you and it was nice. His hand came up and rested on your face softly. Feather light touches on your cheek with the very tips of his fingers.

Objectively speaking, it was a lovely kiss, but it did nothing for you and he felt it.

“I’m sorry.” You rested your forehead on his and he sighed, the air moving the hair framing your face slightly.

“Don’t be, it was worth a shot.” he smiled sadly and you kissed him on the cheek. You both had your answer. The door slammed, breaking you out of your moment with Benny and you saw the back of Francis’ head as he stalked back inside.

----

He wanted to get drunk. He wanted to punch Benny, he wanted to knock his teeth out. He wanted to walk out there, grab Spills by the back of the head and kiss her until she finally understood what she meant to him.

When they walked in together his guts twisted up with rage, it clawed its way up his throat and instead of lashing out he ordered three shots of liquor to burn it away. He drank them quickly, one after the other.

“You and me, outside. Now.” Pope was dragging him away and he wanted to fight but Claudia was asking him what was wrong and he didn’t have an answer for her. Not one she’d want to hear so he let Pope drag him outside. He could see Spills staring at him and he couldn’t look at her.

“What the fuck are you doing right now?” Pope spoke calmly, but his voice had an edge.

“Drinking. It’s my bachelor party, I’m supposed to get drunk aren’t I?” He was pacing, the rage making him restless.

“Why are you marrying Claudia?” Pope stared at him.

“What are you talking about?” The question stopped him in his tracks.

“Do you think that no one can see it? It’s painfully obvious that you’re nowhere near as in love with her as you should be. You’re hung up on Spills and she’s obviously hung up on you.” He was trying to speak calmly and Frankie was pissed off all over again.

“It doesn’t fucking matter how I feel about her - she’s out here with Benny and I’m getting married tomorrow.” He was spiraling.

How the fuck did I get here?

“She’s out here with Benny, because you’re supposed to be getting married tomorrow. If you want to continue with Claudia I’m not going to get in your way, but get your fucking shit together and control your emotions. Figure out what the fuck you want and remember that Benny isn’t your enemy.” He approached him and clapped his arms onto Frankies shoulders. “Fish, you have to figure out what you want here, make it work with Claudia or let her go - stop this living in between shit. It’s not fair to anyone.” Frankie shook out of his grip, too upset to see reason.

He knew he was wrong, he knew he had no right to react this way but it was too much for him. All the little moments he’d thought they’d shared - what had they meant?

What does it matter? You’re getting married, she isn’t.

He ignored her gaze when he approached their table, Claudia was approaching him.

“You okay babe?” She was approaching him with open arms and he embraced her. Eyes closed - trying to feel something other than anger. He focused on the smell of her hair, on the feeling of being buried into the crook of her neck. She sighed loudly and ran her fingers through his hair, soothing and smoothing it out. “It’s just pre-wedding jitters babe, tomorrow everything will be perfect and we’ll be married.” She was whispering into his ear and it was meant to be reassuring.

He felt nothing.

You’re not her. No matter what you do, you’ll never be her and I have to be okay with that.

“I’m okay babe - see you tomorrow.” He kissed her, really kissed her. Tried to muster up whatever he thought he felt for her before and she responded but it was useless. All he felt was anger; she pulled away smiling and said her goodbyes. He glanced at Spills and the look on her face made him feel ashamed.

“Let’s get fucked up.” He said it with a fake smile plastered on his face and everyone except Pope and Spills cheered.

---

His hostility was astounding. He barely looked at you the whole night and you had a feeling it had to do with Benny’s kiss. You had to talk to him about it, a part of you hoped he’d be jealous and realize that you belonged together but maybe that was all in your head. Maybe he didn’t like his friends dating you, or you dating them but that didn’t make sense. Why would that bother him?

You’re the one getting married to someone else here, you dick.

Will and Benny were keeping up with him but as the night wore on everyone came to the realization that tomorrow would be a very long day if they didn’t quit now but Frankie wanted to keep the party going. He wasn’t belligerent, but he was being more aggressive than you’d ever seen. He told the boys that he wanted to continue drinking when they all got back to his house and they agreed but when you all got there it was obvious that Benny and Will were down for the count.

“I’m going to get these two into bed, can you make sure he’s okay and that he doesn’t get too fucked up?” Pope was herding the brothers into the basement where they’d been staying. He gave you a curious look then, a narrowing of the eyes that screamed talk to him.

---

When you walked into his old bedroom he was sitting on his bed, bottle of alcohol to his lips and you’d had enough.

“Francis that’s enough, you’ve had too much and you’re going to be sick.” You were trying to take the bottle away from him but he was stronger than you and he was in a foul mood.

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to pull that shit and then baby me.” His tone was vicious and you pulled back.

“I’m not trying to baby you, you asshole- I'm trying to make sure you’re not hungover for your wedding tomorrow.” He scoffed loudly at your words. “You got something to say Francisco?” You were angry now, his attitude was pissing you off big time. Your question set him off and he unloaded onto you.

“Oh I got plenty to say.” He put the bottle down and towered over you. “You fucked up Spills, you knew how I felt about you this whole fucking time and YOU were the one who shut it down. Making this stupid pact so you would be guaranteed someone who was crazy about you while you went off and did whatever and whoever you wanted and then bring it up in front of everyone like it was a joke.” The anger was burning away the alcohol in his system and there was nothing but raw honesty left. “And now what, you’re going to date my friend? So is it anyone who shows you attention except me?”

The expression on his face was angry, but there was a raw hurt in his voice. An old wound that he was blaming you for opening up.

“I have loved you since I was fucking fourteen, and you never gave a shit. You used me and you kept me dangling on a string but guess what, I am not a last resort. I have found a woman who loves me and you’re going to have to live with that.” The words were knives to your heart because for the most part they were true.

You couldn’t stop the tears at his onslaught of painful truths but underneath the hurt his words caused, you were fucking angry.

“You want to tear into me because I’ve been a fucking idiot fine, have at it, but you do not get to shame me for having a moment with someone who likes me. You’re getting married! Am I supposed to stay celibate and alone for the rest of my life because you gave up on me? I was waiting at the airport to tell you that I love you. That I know I’ve wasted time and that I want you.”

“Gave up on you? Are you fucking kidding me right now? So when I call to see how everyone is doing and I find out that you’re seeing someone - I'm supposed to just know that you’ll figure it out? I have been putting off finding someone in hopes that you’ll finally see how devoted I’ve always been to you. I am so fucking pissed off at you and you want to know what the worst part of it is? The fact that I still fucking love you. Even though I’m hurt and so goddamn angry. Even though I have her and I know she’s head over heels for me, you’re the one in my head. I still love you and seeing you like this is breaking my fucking heart Spills. It should be you I’m marrying tomorrow. It should have always been you.” You could see the tears in his eyes now and that hurt even more.

Every single fibre of your being screamed at you to run to him, to wrap your arms around him. Instead you responded with your own truth.

“I wish it was me tomorrow. I know I couldn’t expect you to wait for me forever but I don’t want anyone else. Benny is sweet but he’s not you Francis.” You were well and truly crying now. Everything you’d been holding in came bubbling up, spilling out of you and there was nothing you could do to stop it, it had to come out.

“I should have kissed you back like I wanted to. I shouldn’t have been afraid, I should have seen it and dealt with my own feelings for you. I’m sorry Francis. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize how perfect we are for each other. I’m sorry I was too late and I’m terrified that you’ll leave me behind and marry her, and that I’ll be here waiting for you forever.” Your voice was cracking and high, barely a whisper at certain points with how hard you were crying.

His legs brought themselves to you in three long strides and then his mouth was on yours. Your tears mixing where your faces touched; pure adrenaline coursing through your veins when his hands buried themselves into your hair. It was nothing compared to the inexperienced albeit enthusiastic kiss you’d shared as teenagers. This was all-consuming. His mouth trapping your bottom lip roughly and biting softly to draw out a whimper. His tongue using the sound as the invitation to plunder the inside of your mouth.

He tasted like honey and alcohol, like the gum he chewed and tiramisu. He tasted like all the things you loved in this world and you never wanted him to stop kissing you.

He trailed his kisses down to the line of your jaw, the long column of your neck and up to the place beneath your ear and all you could do was frantically clutch at his hair.

“We’ve been so stupid Spills, driving me crazy.” He was whispering the words into your neck, his hands a vice grip around your waist.

“I’m sorry Francis, I love you - I love you so much.” The both of you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, fervent breathes as you kissed; both trying to make up for lost time. His wedding in a few hours was forgotten, his fiancé didn’t exist. It was just the two of you in his old bedroom where his first kiss had been denied.

You were rewriting that now.

His hands lowered and grabbed at the flesh of your ass roughly and you moaned into his mouth. He brought his kisses to your neck as he decisively pulled your dress up.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for half my life Spills, it was you I thought about while I was away. I would fuck my fist every single fucking night thinking about you letting me taste your pussy.” His eyes were dark with want and you gasped at his words, the alcohol and the honesty making him braver; the words were shooting directly into your cunt, making you weep for him.

“It’s always been you, look at what you do to me, what you’ve always fucking done to me.” He grabbed at your hand roughly and pressed into the sizeable bulge at his crotch. It was hard to form words. It was hard to articulate how you felt now that this was finally happening.

“Will you let me baby? Will you let me bury my tongue in your cunt? I want you to cum all over my face.” He was rubbing at your clit through your panties and it was like you were suspended in amber. Dumbstruck at his words, his confidence - his need for you.

“Yes Francisco, please.” You were gripping his hair frantically as he pushed you onto his bed. His big strong hands pulling your underwear down and tossing it over his shoulder. The same hands pulling your thighs apart to find your slick seeping out of you, all glossy and wet. He moaned at the sight.

“Look at that- so fucking pretty for me.” He made himself comfortable between your legs, grinding into the mattress as he studied your body. He kissed your thighs as he brought his face closer and closer to your clenching core. His facial hair tickling you as he trailed them up up up. You watched him propped up on your elbows, your hands automatically reaching out to run through his hair.

“Bet you taste so fucking good, like peaches.” He ran his finger along your seam, smearing your slick all over your lower lips. He was going too slow. You tried to move your cunt closer to his face but he smiled almost cruelly and held your hips down.

“My greedy girl.” He spread your lips apart and spit into your clit, you felt it sliding down towards your opening but he dove in cat-quick to lap it up before it went further.

His tongue was heaven. You threw your head back as he licked from your opening up towards your clit, over and over. “Eyes on me, I want you to watch me.” It was too much and you whimpered as he let the saliva drip from his mouth and into your clit. Focusing his tongue there, moving it up and down over and over and over. The wet glide of it too much and the string holding your sanity together was too tight, it would surely snap and let you float away soon.

He groaned onto your skin, his eyes steady on you as he slid two thick fingers inside you. Curling them in a way that had you tensing up. He could feel your thighs clenching as he scissored them inside you, stretching you open while his tongue pushed you over the edge. It was too much and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and gave it a long steady suck, you shattered.

He held you down and licked you through it. Lapping up the waves of arousal, drinking you down deep while his fingers pistoned in and out of you with a wet squelch.

You had to push him away.

“You taste so good honey, I wanna eat you for days, until you’re a wet little puddle in my bed.” He crawled up towards your limp body and kissed you roughly, his facial hair irritating your skin but it didn’t matter. Not when you could taste yourself in his mouth, not when he’d made you cum harder than anyone had any right to.

His hands were a blur as he tried to get his jeans down and you helped him. You could see your slick on his fingers, then his jeans and your hip where he held onto you. A little trail of you wherever he touched.

You frantically pulled both his jeans and his boxers down, his cock freed and bobbing between your thighs. You could see the sticky tip of him, angry and red with how hard he was and your mouth watered. You had to taste.

He was surprised when you flipped him over, the startled look on his face quickly replaced with a hungry smile. You took off his jeans and his boxes fully to lay between his legs. You rested your head on the strong muscle of his thigh as you lazily stroked him, the velvety skin of his cock encasing the iron beneath. He watched you with a look of rapture and his breath hitched when you pulled away to scoop some of your own slick from between your legs to make your strokes more fluid.

“You can’t possibly know how many times I’ve imagined this - fuck - give me your mouth baby, please.” He was thrusting up into your hand. You licked a wide stripe from the base of his dick up to the tip, circling it with your tongue. He groaned at the sight of you and he grabbed at the hair at the base of your skull to guide your movements.

You took the tip into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks prettily while he watched you, taking a bit more each time you lowered your head. You were ravenous for him, the soft sounds he was making, the control you had at this moment was intoxicating and it pushed you to take him further.

You took him as far as you could, swallowing around him as your nose brushed up against his curls and the tears leaked out when you let go to take a breath.

“Holy fuck baby, yes - look so fucking hot with my dick in your throat. Let me see you do it again.” He guided you down and you held there as long as you could before you sputtered and coughed, spit and his precum connecting your mouth to his cock.

“Fuck baby - so fucking good, if you do it again I’ll cum…” he left it up to you, taking his hand away from your hair and as tempted as you were to watch him come apart in your mouth your cunt was achingly empty and you needed him inside you.

“Next time you can cum in my mouth or on my face, wherever you want, right now I need you to fuck me.” You crawled up and he kissed you, he was frantic and he licked the spit off your lips and it was so primal you moaned. You found yourself on your back again and he was holding your thighs open while he rubbed his length through your folds.

“I’m going to cum inside you. I’m going to pump you full of me, fuck it into you. I wanna see it dripping out of you when I’m done.” He was lining himself up and when he slid in all the way, everything was right in the world. This was how it was supposed to be, the thick stretch of him was perfect, you were so fucking full - your cunt, your heart - every part of you.

“God baby, you’re so tight and wet - feels so fucking good.” He was speaking into your mouth and all you could do was wrap your arms and legs around him. Incoherent whimpers and sounds spilling out of your mouth with his movements. Sweat was beading on his brow, his fingers traced your hairline almost tenderly. His movements are equal parts filthy and loving.

His thrusts were hard and fast, not being able to control himself. You heard the wet, obscene sound of them and it made you wetter. You raised your legs higher, bracketing his ribs while he snapped his hips.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, love you - let me love you.” His words were curt and he wasn’t going to last long so you yanked the straps of your dress down. He leaned onto one arm, reaching down to rub perfect circles onto your clit while he took your nipple into his mouth. Your orgasm crashed into you out of nowhere and he groaned when he felt you clenching.

He brought his hand back up to grab at your hip roughly for more leverage while he fucked into you two, three - four more times before he was spilling into you.

He made good on his promise. He fucked his cum into you. A couple more shallow thrusts even though he was too sensitive and he watched himself do it.

“Look so fucking pretty like that, all puffy and full of my cum.” He watched as it slid out of you and down your ass onto the bedding.

Is this what I’ve been missing out on? Francisco Morales; sex god.

You were too blissed out to move but he went to work, taking off the rest of his clothes and then stripping you of yours. It was difficult to articulate how you felt in that moment, on the one hand this was everything you had wanted. The sex had been amazing, he didn’t just fill your body - he filled every single ounce of you. Your heart swelled when he tucked you into his side and covered the two of you with his blanket.

On the other hand, the postcoital bliss was wearing off and the implications of what had transpired was a weight growing in the pit of your stomach.

Your body and heart wanted to soar; a kite flying higher and higher. Your conscience was the string, and it was being shortened fast. He loved you, he still loved you even though he was engaged and he’d been thinking of you the whole time. You wanted to cry with happiness; with guilt as well.

The guilt was present, reminding you consistently that this man was supposed to be getting a good night’s rest for his wedding tomorrow. Instead the two of you were laying in bed, curled around each other. His spend slowly seeping out of you.

It was hard to focus on it though, especially when his skin was so warm under your cheek. When his hand rubbed at your arm and your legs were a tangle underneath the blanket. You couldn’t help but reach up and run your fingers through the hair matted on his forehead and he made it even harder when he captured the same hand and pressed kisses to your fingers. He broke the silence before you could though.

“I’m still pissed off at you.” He had a dreamy look on his face despite his words.

“I know. I’m pissed off at me too.” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. The scent of his body-wash mixing with his own sweat. You couldn’t get enough and he curled himself into you as you ran your fingers through his hair. Your hands are constantly moving, touching every bit of each other you could.

“We’ve wasted so much fucking time Spills.” There was a deep sadness in his voice, it sliced into you because you knew he was right.

“I know Francis, I’m sorry it took me so long.” You were scratching at the wiry hairs on his cheek, trying to map out the face you loved so much. He sighed loudly. “What's going to happen tomorrow?”

“I don’t know - part of me thinks I should pack up the truck, throw you in the back and drive away. Another part of me wants to forget this whole thing happened and follow through on the commitment I made.” He wasn’t holding back with his words or feelings and although they hurt you couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do. You kept quiet, at the end of the day the decision was his. “I have to tell her the truth. I have to tell her that we did this, I cannot show up there tomorrow and pretend like I didn’t.”

You could see the guilt on his face now, the implications dawning on him a little later than they had for you. He scrubbed at his face with his hand and groaned.

“How can I just break her heart like this?” He was spiralling. “She doesn’t deserve this.” You felt like an intruder then, suddenly the closeness wasn’t there, he was pulling away from you emotionally if not yet physically.

“What do you want to do Francisco?” The use of his full name snapped him out of his train of thought and he looked at you then.

“What do you mean?” He looked at you in confusion, as you pulled away from him reluctantly.

“I know it took me way too long to get to this point, and you have every fucking right to hate me. If you tell me now that you want to make it work with her I’ll support your decision. I’ll keep my mouth shut and we can pretend this never happened. I would do that for you because I love you, and I will no matter what. You tell me what you want to do.” The tears were coming down your face as you said the words and as much as it hurt to get them out you meant them.

You couldn’t stay here - you wanted him to make his choice without influence and he said nothing as you quickly dressed and walked out of his room, instead you lay on the couch in the living room, crying softly to yourself. Sleep was nowhere in sight and in a few hours, you’d know for sure what would happen.

----

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#frankie catfish morales #frankie x f!reader #frankie x you #pedro pascal fic #triple frontier #frankie morales #frankie x female reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #francisco catfish morales #my bestfriends wedding au #pedro pascal fanfiction

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mosshead-lover · 3 years

Text

A to Z with Capt’n Levi

Levi Headcanons

A/n: I was suddenly short of words when I was writing this. Lol. I managed to finish. Lemme know how you like it, okay? * Baby bear face*

A: Attention - Loves getting attention from you, especially when swarmed with work, when you offer to make tea or a back massage, or even take care of his hardness. He loves them all equally.

B: Books - One of the traits Levi admires in you is that you read. He often offers to read to you and asks you to correct him if he mispronounces something. Since he grew up underground and never had access to proper education, he is kind of conscious of his spellings. The grave expression he makes as he starts reading makes him look like an innocent kid that thinks he is on the most critical mission of his lifetime.

C: Chivalry - The Captain is chivalrous, indeed. He often brings you flowers. All white, however. He believes in the purity of love and which other colors can signify it better. Moreover, it's his favorite.

D: Dirty Talk - Levi sucks at it, okay? His blunt honesty doesn’t aid the fact.

You: So, you have been accused of damaging someone’s private property, causing flood after flood. I must take you into custody(eying at the bed).

Him: Oh.

You: (trying to keep up) Will you take a look at the damage you’ve caused?

Him: Sure.

E: Enthuse(what excites him?) - It may sound cliche but, You calling him *Captain* when alone is the biggest turn on for him.

F: Foreplay - Levi likes feeling every inch of your body before he gets on with the actual business. He nibbles and kisses the most random places, making your body ask for more, slowly making his way to the sensitive parts. So, You tell me, who’s the king of foreplay?

G: Gifts- Levi doesn't wait for an occasion to get you something, nor do you. If you come across a vintage teapot or a new cleaning tool, you pick it up immediately. Likewise, if he finds something that you’d use or look good on you, he is bringing it home.

H: Hugs- Levi isn't much of a hugger but offers to when you are super low and need comfort. Levi always rests his chin on your shoulder when he hugs you. Back hugs, on the other hand, are very common to him. Especially after a long day, he wants to come home to your warmth and nothing else.

I: Ideal Date- Levi has enough adventures at work already so, Home dates are a luxury for him and you. You begin with morning tea and a little chat. You cook breakfast together and clean too before hitting the bedroom. Aftercare includes a shower, hair drying, and a little snack followed by his wholesome tea. You might go on a small horse ride or a walk in the evening.

J: Jealousy - Levi doesn’t show envy. If something is bothering him, he will be honest with you about it. But, he is sure to lose it if someone stares at you or makes you feel uncomfortable.

K: Kill - Would he kill for you? Ack. You know it already!

L: Liquor (Do you get drunk together?)-

Occasionally you do. Levi seems to hold his booze quite well. Levi does enjoy watching you get drunk and go berserk. Of course, he is there if things go out of hand. That's why you drink crazy in the first place.

M: Massages - He is on the receiving end, mostly. Since he stays awake late at night working, you often offer him shoulder massages.

N: Nos(Turnoffs) - Not addressing the elephant in the room, untidiness, and cold tea.

O: Ogle - Was he ogling you before you got together? Yes. Does he still do? YES! and you love it when those bluish-grey deep set of eyes check you out like it's the first time. The captain’s eyes speak louder than his mouth, and you're more than okay with it.

P: PDA-Levi isn’t a fan tbh. The most you do is hold hands in public except on the last Valentine's day when you were crossing the bridge. The atmosphere was so irresistible that you had to kiss him.

Q: Quarrel- Like any other couple, you have your differences too. Friction between you two is mostly because of Levi’s poor work-life balance and his OCD. Nothing that can't be taken care of before the day ends.

R: Roleplaying- Housekeeper and the owner any day. Oh, and you switch the roles too. Guess who looks darn cute wearing that white lacy headpiece?

S: Snuggles- Does he get Cozy with you often? Not really. Not that he doesn’t like it, it’s just that he can’t initiate. He never discourages you from snuggling up to him. You spoon most of the winter nights.

T: Tickle - Is he Ticklish? Surprisingly Yes. Humanity’s strongest soldier is also one big ass sensitive baby. A Tickle battle is one of those rare things that gets a peal of laughter out of him.

U: Underrated part- His butt! His sinfully sexy butt. You often kindle him by whacking that piece of art. His reaction is worth a million dollars.

V: Variety - Who brings in variety in the relationship? You, Definitely. You are always trying out new stuff. Thanks to his honest feedback, it’s easier to find something you both like, sooner.

W: Walks- When Levi doesn’t have to jump right back to work after dinner, he asks you to go on walks. They are the best. You get to catch up with each other’s day, and Levi is usually in a good mood post walks.

X: X-mas - Well, Christmas is just a decoy. What is more important is his birthday, which falls on the same day. He doesn't like celebrating or even remembering it. The last time you baked a cake and wished him, he said.

”I see. You're eager to celebrate me getting another year closer to death,”

You stopped bothering him since then. You still decorate the house, bake his favorite cookies, and dress up. His birthday coinciding with Christmas is a blessing in disguise, after all.

Y: Yes - Stuff that might seem annoying but, Levi doesn’t mind- A little goofy-ness, snapping at him, messing up his hair, and mimicking him.

Z: Zzzzz/Sleep - What type of a sleeper is he? Levi doesn't snore but moves a lot in his sleep! Often he wakes up in the middle of the night, settles on a chair for the rest of the night. Despite you assuring that throwing his limbs around in sleep does not bother you.

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Check out my New Year’s Levi list:

Eleven Minutes in Levi Heaven

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Click the bear to checkout my other work:

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1-800-marvelswhore · 2 years

Text

Nothing Even Matters.

genre>> eventual smut. fluff. angst. childhood best friends to lovers au.

synopsis>> he was your best friend. nothing more. nothing less. you never thought he reciprocated your feelings... until he did, but you wanted him to achieve his dreams so you lie and deny any feelings for him. but at what cost?

warnings>> unrequited love (that's actually requited), a shit ton of angst, hurt feelings, strong language, mentions of alcoholism, implied sexual content (nothing explicit), reader is a bit of a bitch, terrible coping mechanisms, reader passes out, mention of throw up! this chapter is really quite sad for the first one but the beat goes on.

word count>> 2.8k

note: whew! let's get this bread!! welcome to my first chapter of "Nothing Even Matters" This randomly came to me as I listened to the song- well Nothing Even Matters by Big Time Rush lmaoo. The contents in this chapter doesn't quite sync with the lyrics, but as the story develops the more it'll sync. Anyway! Thank you for reading <3

main masterlist

series index

🎧: Cry by Cigarettes After Sex

🎧: Hentai by Cigarettes After Sex

Maybe drinking away the rest of your remaining brain cells and sorrows wasn't the "smartest" or "rational" thing to do at 6 pm on a Sunday evening. The sun had barely set and you were already on to your 4th shot in the measly time of 15 minutes. You couldn't care though you've had enough of being sober.

You were completely and irrevocably in love with your best friend, but he didn't reciprocate; not his fault. You knew you couldn't control who he does and doesn't have feelings for, but some part of you had always hoped maybe? But when you came down from being too hopeful it shattered you. Each and every time.

You sniffled at the thought and shook it off, you signaled for the bartender who's name you had learned was Min Yoongi. His skin was milky white, he had cat eyes and a button nose that was to die for. The best part was his pearly white teeth and cute gummy smiled that followed though.

"Another one? It's barely 7, don't you want to... I don't know slow down? Why're you drinking so much anyway? And on a Sunday, what's that all about?" He questioned cautiously. You'd come to this bar a lot and from your frequent visits Yoongi has no doubt in his mind that you suffered with alcoholism.

"I'm sorry do you get paid to interrogate or to pour drinks? I wanted a shot not a therapist." Your words slurred, but they still came out as venomous as you wanted.

"Jeez. Sorry for being a decent human being." He spat sarcastically. You were too buzzed to care though.

To anyone who was close to you they knew of your unrequited feelings for your best friend...everyone except who mattered that is. You dealt with the rejection, but when you saw him you acted as normal as can be. He didn't see how you were when he wasn't around and you liked it that way. You always knew no matter the feelings you had for him he was still your best friend before anything.

It has been different though recently. Taehyung hadn't contacted you in almost 3 weeks and it broke you more and more as each day passed. That's when you started drowning yourself in liquor and despair.

Cause and effect, you see?

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. You knew the phone worked both ways, but you couldn't bring yourself to text or call him first. Too worried about what he'd might tell you if you did.

You shook your thoughts off as Yoongi had slid you your shot of tequila making you buzz with excitement to feel the burn down your throat.

"Keep 'em coming too and you'll get quite the hefty tip from me mister." You lifted your shot and scarfed it down in one gulp. Yoongi just blanked at you and continued wiping the bar down while pouring you shot after shot.

1 hr 30 minutes and a tequila-full bladder later...

"I-I'm gonna go p-pee." You hiccuped and stumbled to the bathroom. Your vision began to blur and you thought maybe you should have stopped after the 10th shot, but your mind wasn't racing at 1000 mph...you were happy and as temporary as you knew it was you were relieved.

You looked at your reflection and wanted to heave whatever alcohol you had drunk this evening. Your hair was frizzy and your pupils were blown. You hated how you looked. You knew you didn't have healthy coping mechanisms, but this was better than sleeping around you tried to argue with yourself.

You looked away from the mirror and went into a stall; fighting the urge to throw up as each minute passes. You finished emptying your bladder when a knock sounded on the door.

"O-occupado!" You tried to yell, but wound up hiccuping instead.

"Y/n?" You froze. What the hell is he doing here? You couldn't ever mistake that deep, baritone, tender voice.

You flushed the toilet, washed your hands, and swung the door open and therein was your best friend standing before you. If not for his addicting scent of sandalwood and maple, maybe you'd think you were hallucinating, but in your peripheral you noticed Yoongi wiggling your phone in his hand and you huffed.

That traitor. What was the big deal? So you drink everyday at hefty amounts, but who cares? You're only 24 you're not going to die.

"W-what are you doin here Tae?" You spoke voice less slurred as his presence made you somewhat sober up.

"Worried about you is what. Do you know the amount of predators out there waiting to take advantage of intoxicated women?" He furrowed his brows at your carelessness.

He cared about you. More than you thought he did and seeing you like this was killing him inside. He wondered why and when did you start drinking so much and he hated himself for not being there for you.

"I can take care of myself thank you very much. Sorry to have put a stump into your night, you can go now though. I'll get a Uber home." You brushed him off. Your heart was beating so fast and hard it felt almost hard to breathe. You huffed softly and walked towards Yoongi giving him a scowl.

"Hey now, who leaves their phone unlocked while they're drunk as fuck? Better me than a thief I like to think, I do think you need to go home you had enough to drink." He said calmly not caring about the amount of daggers you were throwing him right now.

Was he serious right now? Fuck him.

"Are you fucking serious right now? Fuck you." You decided to voice your thoughts. He simply shrugged and threw his cleaning rag over his shoulder walking away.

"Look Y/n, let me drive you home so you can lay down. You must've had a long day." Taehyung suggested. You scoffed at that. A long day it was indeed. Not that he needed to know that, but maybe it was your alcohol induced mind that made you think he didn't deserve to know about your day.

"Taehyung no. You go home. Like I said I'll take an Uber home." You said dismissively. You walked past him and quickly exited the bar secluding yourself on a bench in the parking lot.

Truth was you didn't even trust an Uber. You knew you were wasted 10x fold, but you were stubborn. Always have been. You were too embarrassed to even be in Taehyung's presence, which is ironic because he's seen you at your absolute worst. But even so you couldn't hide your humiliation right now.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you take an Uber? My mom would behead me." Taehyung spoke softly. You simply glanced at him and inhaled sharply. You've been so keen on ignoring him you failed to take the time to admire how he looked.

Dressed in denim jeans and a leather jack with a Metallica t-shirt underneath he looked straight out of your wildest dreams. You bit your lip and just shook your leg up and down anxiously. A habit you ensued at the measly age of 4.

"Look Tae-" You started but was interrupted by Taehyung.

"Stop fighting me on this, okay? I care about you so let me take you home and-" This time you interrupted him.

"Care about me? That's fucking rich." You scoffed to yourself but Taehyung had heard you.

"And what's that supposed to mean Y/n, huh?! All I've done for the past 15 years is care about you so I don't know if you've lost some brain cells in the amount of alcohol you drank tonight, but don't dare insinuate that I don't care. That's just cruel." He seethed through gritted teeth.

In hindsight, you weren't sure why you said what you did. You had no reason at all to believe he hadn't cared for you, but it's as though you wanna push him away. Hoping it'd make things better for you.

Was that selfish? Maybe.

Were you thinking rationally right now? Nope, not at all.

"Listen Kim, call me cruel all you want, but from the time we turned age of 16- well you 17 and you got all popular and became a male model or whatever the fuck it is that you do," That was uncalled for. You knew his job meant the world to him, but the ball was rolling and there was no stopping now. You noticed him wince and it made your heart crack but instead of stopping you continued. Digging the knife you thrust into his chest deeper. "So excuse me for thinking you give any fucks about me at all anymore. Why're you here anyway? You haven't contacted me in almost 3 weeks and now all of a sudden you come to my "rescue" what, do you get off on being the superhero? Well guess what? I don't need you," Deeper the knife plunged as you continued to speak. "Never have. So go fuck yourself."

You said those words...so carelessly... so vehemently.. without thoughts about the repercussions of your words and actions. You were far too drunk and your mind wasn't even on the Earth's axis. You reckoned you probably wouldn't even remember these events the next day; you sure hoped you wouldn't

"I haven't contacted you in 3 weeks because I was offered a job in Paris. I wasn't sure if I was gonna take it because," Taehyung clenched his fists as his eyes glossed over. "I wanted to make sure you'd be alright without me. Thanks for that confirmation by the way. So yeah, maybe I'll go fuck myself there and respect your wishes." He chuckled humorlessly.

You froze. The world was spinning and you felt bile rising in your throat before you suddenly hurled everything you had consumed in the last couple of hours. The world never stopped spiraling from underneath you and finally the world went black.

The next morning...

You woke up as the shine was beaming against your face. You looked around squinting as your eyes struggled to adjust to the brightness of your surroundings. You looked down and noticed you were no longer in your outfit from the previous night, but you were in a t-shirt much too big for your frame.

You continued to look around as you noticed a picture of you and Taehyung framed on an oak wood dresser. You stalked towards it cautiously finally coming to the realization of where you were. Of course, this was Taehyung's room. Where else would you be? You knew Taehyung would never leave you in the streets even after those venomous words you spat him last night.

Wincing at the memory you walked down the stairs slowly and noticed Taehyung sitting at his desk, glasses on, his dog Yeontan on his lap, reading a book. What a sight. You didn't have time to admire though because you didn't want to seem like a creep so you cleared your throat instead.

"Do you have aspirin? My head is killing me." You rasped shyly. He didn't spare you a glance as he answered dryly.

"Bathroom cabinet. Water is in the fridge." Was all he said. You nodded solemnly, but you knew you deserved it. This wasn't worse than what you had done, but this felt so very shitty.

You were in denial but deep down you knew you were a struggling alcoholic. You knew this for a fact because at the moment you craved pineapple vodka. You were hungover for fucks' sake, but you were still craving alcohol? If that wasn't alcoholism you didn't know what was.

"Fuck." You sighed softly to yourself. You knew you had to apologize and it couldn't be anything simple. No you had to apologize from deep within your heart. No words could even begin to fix what you broke, but you could try. Never was there any harm in that. You grabbed two aspirins and just decided to open the tap to take the pills.

You rinsed your face and stepped out the bathroom. Yeontan yipped at the sight of you and it made you smile sadly.

"Taehyung could we talk?" You cautiously spoke. He closed his book and took off his glasses. His demeanor at the moment was intimidatingly sexy as he stood up tall, dark, and handsome as always. Boy, did you have feelings for this man.

"No. I'm going to talk and you're going to listen, got that?" He asked you arms crossed over his chest as he sat on his desk now staring at you intently with dark eyes. You nodded in response to which he clicked his tongue. "I didn't appreciate being spoke to in the way you spoke to me last night. I didn't deserve that whatsoever and you didn't even have a care as you spoke," You were about to protest when he simply put a hand up stopping you. "Especially not with how much I love you." He spoke more softly at the last sentence.

Your heart stopped and your breathing halted. What did he just say? Those words were like a sweet melody that you'd like to play over and over on repeat. Like a song you'd never get tired of- a tune that gave you a sense of comfort.

Taehyung began walking towards you slowly, stopping a safe 5 feet away.

"I love you so much and it wounded me as you spoke those words to me last night. I don't know why you said all those things, but I don't care. I want to be yours. And I want you to be mine." His eyes began to pool and you wanted to wipe his tears, but fought against it. "Say those 3 words and 8 letters and I'm yours forever. No Paris. Nothing will stop me from loving you." He said softly staring into you so intently you felt as though you would melt.

Part of you was so happy. You wanted to tell him you loved him- that you had for as long as you could remember, but one thing in his confession stuck out the most; "No Paris." You couldn't possibly be the one to stop him from pursuing his dream. For as long as you knew him, Paris had always been his endgame. What kind of person would you be if you were to prevent him from going? He'd grow to resent you, you were sure.

You closed your eyes and tried blinking away the tears in your eyes. What you were about to do would fucking ruin you, but it had to be done. He deserved that job in Paris. You knew he needed it much more than he wanted it and you'd be a complete fool to let him throw that away.

"Taehyung... I love you. But purely as a best friend. Nothing more. Nothing less. I- I don't see you that way and I never will." You stared down at the hardwood floors fighting the urge to throw yourself into him and kiss him into oblivion.

A couple beats passed and he'd still not said a word to you so with great hesitancy you looked up at the 5'11 male. His eyes were bloodshot and tears were staining his cheeks. It fucking broke you. Broke you beyond repair. There was no fixing what was broken here.

Without another word he stormed out of his house slamming the door in his exit. As soon as the door closed you choked out a gut-wrenching sob. With wobbling legs you walked up the stairs to his room staring at the picture on his dresser. Another choked sob escaping you as you recalled the day it was taken.

It was Christmas day, Taehyung decided to throw a house party with only close friends and family. You were dressed as an elf and Tae dressed up as Santa. It was comical really. You both were under a mistletoe and Taehyung had lowered his beard, but instead of kissing you he licked your cheek. A close family-friend of yours, Jungkook , had captured the moment just in time.

Smiling grimly as you reminisced that moment you made a promise and swore to Taehyung and to yourself.

"I promise you Taehyung. The sun will shine on us again... I will find you and we will be who we could've been. I love you. Don't give up on me." You whispered to the framed picture. You placed it back to its place, got dressed and folded the clothes Taehyung had let you borrow for the night.

You left.

Not a single trace of your being there except the neatly folded clothes on Taehyung's bed. Duvet made and two tear drops on it.

They say there's no greater feeling than love. They're wrong.

Loss is a bigger feeling than love because you knew this feeling in your chest wouldn't go away.

There was a Taehyung shaped hole in your heart and nothing will be the same until you see him again.

But until then... you'll wait.

After all... love conquers all.

It's making you cry every time You give your love to me this way Saying you'd wait for me to stay I know it hurts you - Cry , Cigarettes After Sex

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

Egg the Cat

Chapter 3

Read on Ao3

Billy had to double-check to make sure he hadn't accidentally followed someone else home from the party.

Because Steve lived in a fucking mansion.

“Jesus Christ .” Billy stared at the house. “You didn’t tell me you’re fucking royalty .” Steve rolled his eyes, leading Billy towards the house.

“Can it. You got the booze?” Billy shook the bottle at him.

Steve looked better. Like maybe he had gotten a bit of a handle on himself.

Billy followed him into the pool of light cast over the porch, the unmistakable scream of a very excited cat sounding from inside.

Steve pushed open the door, bending immediately to scoop up his purring cat, holding her close to him as he went inside.

Billy gave a low whistle as he took off his boots, lining them neatly next to Steve’s shoes.

Steve just climbed the stairs, assumed Billy was following.

Steve’s bedroom was nice enough.

Felt as impersonal as the rest of the gaudy house, but there was a cat tree by the window, and a cat bed Egg ignored in favor of curling up on Steve’s lap as he settled in bed, sitting up against the headboard.

Billy didn’t know what to do with himself.

Last time he was in another boy’s bedroom, very different things were happening.

But then Steve gave him an odd look, eyes flicking to the spot next to himself, and Billy took that as his cue.

“I can’t drink a lot. Gotta be home in three hours.” His dad had a very clear rule about curfew: You miss it, don’t bother coming home.

“This is for me, anyway.” Steve gave him the weakest smile Billy’s ever seen, taking the bottle from Billy’s hand, and taking a long pull.

He grimaced at the taste, gasping for breath.

“That’s fucking rank .”

“Not used to cheap liquor?” Steve swatted at his arm, but took one more pull before passing the bottle to Billy.

Egg was still settled in his lap, and Steve ran long fingers through her dark fur.

“She can always tell when I’m feeling bad. Gets extra snuggly.”

“More snuggly than at the diner?”

“Nah, that was the more. She could tell I had been freaking out looking for her.” Her ear twitched and her tail swished, like she knew they were talking about her. “She’s the smartest cat in the world, I think.” He was quiet for a few moments as Billy took a drink from the bottle. “Took better care ‘a me than Nancy ever did. That’s for damn sure.”

“Sucks that she dumped you like that. All drunk and shit.”

“Isn’t there an expression? Drunk words are sober thoughts? Wish she had gotten drunk a year ago. Woulda saved me a lot of fucking trouble.” Egg perked up, standing to pace on Steve’s lap, curling up again, her chin resting on his tummy. “See? Has a fuckin’ sixth sense for when I’m upset.” She purred, her eyes closing as Steve scratched between her ears, down her back.

“How long have you had her?”

“Like five years? Someone was just, giving her away. Said he didn’t need bad omens, or whatever. ‘Cause she’s a black cat. I think that’s fuckin stupid. She’s brought me nothing but good.” Egg purred again, blinking slowly at Steve, nipping playfully at his fingers.

She really was cute.

Billy had never been much of a cat person, always favored dogs a bit more.

But Egg was so human, the way she tracked their conversation, like she could understand it.

“Man, don’t laugh.” Steve took the bottle from Billy, taking another long pull, shuddering halfway through. “I’m already feelin’ this. Haven’t drunk in so long .”

“Pussy.” Steve huffed a laugh, Egg meowed as his stomach shifted, jostling her head. He let the silence sit for a moment, just watched Steve’s fingers stroke through thick dark fur.

“So, uh, are you like, friends with Tommy?” Steve’s voice was way too measured, his tone far too light and casual.

“Who?”

“Tommy. The guy that was parading you around all night.”

“Oh, uh Karate Kid, guy?”

“Yeah.”

“No. He just kinda started talking at me, told me to do a keg stand. Said the guy that still held the record was a poser.” Steve outright laughed at that.

“Yeah, you broke my record tonight. I’m the poser.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

Billy turned to look at Steve, found him smiling this stupid fond smile at the cat on his lap. The room was dim, only one lamp clicked on, throwing a warm glow around the room.

“Can I ask you what happened? You said you used to be hot shit.”

“Nancy.” Steve’s smile evaporated like a flash. “I used to be a real douchebag. Ruled that fucking school. I mean, it’s not like I liked myself. I could definitely be called a bully, like, which sucks. But, you know. I had friends. I was popular. All that.”

“But she didn’t like that.”

“Nope.” Steve made sure to pop the ‘p’. “It’s not like she blatantly said that, but I could tell. I think that, I think that the changes have been good, like I’m nicer to people now. But I kinda cut off all my friends. Just hang out with her most of the time. And now-” Steve trailed off, taking another swig of shitty tequila. “Guess it’s just me and Eggy.”

“You say that like I’m not sitting right here.” Steve smiled at him, a real one, not the tight ones he’s been using all night.

“You hang out with me, you’re gonna be a fucking laughing stock, new kid.”

“Oh, come on. Have you seen me? I could literally never be a laughing stock. If anything, I'll make you cool again.” Steve just hmmmn ed at Billy, his eyes going a little far away.

“I don’t know if I really, really care about that anymore, if I’m being honest.” He swallowed thickly. “Some major shit went down last year. Like, more than Nancy shit. Kinda put things in perspective, I guess.” Egg had sat up, kneading at Steve’s stomach, making a noise like a little cat alarm.

Egg was so in tune with Steve it was utterly fucking ridiculous. They must be wired directly into one another’s brains.

“What kinda major shit?” Steve was quiet. Egg began walking up him, stepping softly until she settled on his chest, her chin resting on his shoulder, little pink nose tucked into his neck.

“Just like, major shit. Like, like people died kinda major.”

“Damn.”

“Like, I legally can’t talk about it kinda major.” Egg sniffed in his neck.

“What, you get mixed up in some kinda lawsuit or some shit?” Steve just sighed.

“Man, I just said I legally can’t say anything.” But he had a ghost of a smile on his face when he turned to look at Billy. “Can I ask you something?”

“Free country.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Why Hawkins ?”

“You asked me that like, three times yesterday.”

“And you never answered.”

“I said my dad remarried and wanted a-”

“Fresh start, yeah. But you could move one town over and have that. You could stay in the same damn state and do that. Why Hawkins ?”

There was something more behind Steve’s voice, something strained.

Billy just looked back up at the ceiling.

He had to take a breath, talking himself out of actually telling Steve. Telling him how Neil wanted him out of California, where gay bars were only a short drive away. Where Billy could cruise the piers, where a carefully toned you goin’ my way? could lead to a sloppy blowjob in the car.

Hawkins wasn’t necessarily specific, but Neil had wanted a small, God-fearing town. One where he would know if Billy got up to anything unsavory.

“He found a job here,” he said lamely.

Everything in him was screaming to trust Steve. To tell him the truth. Which was just a fuck of a lot. Billy doesn't trust people. He just does not.

He blames Steve.

Blames those soft brown eyes.

“Well, that’s thrilling .” Billy rolled his eyes, smiling a little to himself.

“What were you expecting?”

“Something more exciting. You moved here from California. That’s like, the coolest place ever .”

“I lived in L.A., too.”

“So like, the coolest place in the coolest place.”

“You ever been?” Steve just gave him a dark look.

“Last time I left the state was ten years ago. My parents took me to Chicago.”

“Damn. You’re like, a true hick, then. Only know this little town.”

“That’s me. Pure hick .” He scratched Egg’s back hip. She purred softly. Billy took another long drink, officially calling that his last one. He needed to be sober by the time he went home. Couldn’t be loud and clumsy as he made his way to his room.

He just pressed the bottle into Steve’s hand.

They spent the rest of the time before Billy had to leave just talking.

It was nice, Steve filling him in on the Hawkins drama, told him which gas stations had better candy selections, that the liquor store on the corner of Haven and Burbank didn’t card. He told him that Andrew Conner always had good weed, but it was cheaper to buy from Lisa Kendle.

And the more Steve drank, the more his eyes drooped, the lazier his smiles got, the closer he scoot to Billy.

He was warm, pressed up to Billy’s side, cat still curled on his chest.

He listened with rapt attention as Billy gave him stories about California, about the boardwalk and metal shows, told him stories of his best hookups, told him they were girls.

He was in the middle of one story, switched out the name from Daniel to something more appropriate, when he looked over, found Steve knocked out, mouth hanging open, tequila dangerously close to spilling, cat sleeping soundly on his chest.

It made Billy falter.

He just took in the scene, wanting to remember it.

He moved slowly, tried not to shift the bed too much, and turned out the light in Steve’s bedroom as he left.

#yikes writes #egg the cat #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #i refuse to pay attention in class today thanks

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thunderthighs77 · 3 years

Text

Aizawa and His Assistant Pt. 1

**Part 2** **Part 3**

18+

MINORS DNI

(CW/TW: Fem Reader x Aizawa, pet play, smoking, humiliation, a teeny tiny piss kink hint if you squint {part 2 will have the actual p!ss}, anal play, vaginal play, vibrators, !!face fucking!!, degradation, lmk if I missed anything!)

Content: a BJ Alex inspired pet play scene with Aizawa and his secretary. :)

Aizawa lit his cigarette and sat down. He spread his arms out to the sides of the sofa and spread his legs. He was in his dress pants and a slightly unbuttoned white dress shirt. While he smoked his cigarette, he had his usual unemotional expression as he looked around the dimly lit lounge room.

He reached over to the side table with the cigarette in his mouth and held a little pink remote control in his hand. He lifted an eyebrow and pressed the “on” button. On the ground, you yelped as the butt plug that was in the playful shape of a cat tail started vibrating. He raised another eyebrow and smiled and looked down at his squirming pet.

Aizawa took in and let out a puff of smoke and smirks. “Psss psss psss,” he sly tongue hissed. You looked up, whimpering. He gestures with his fingers a motion for you to come forward. “Here, kitty,” he said with a smirk.

You look down and whimper at the strong vibrations, trying to maintain your dignity. How did you end up here? You were doing paperwork just a few hours ago at your desk, but after so many casual quickies, you thought that your boss Aizawa had wanted a little more....and to be honest, you didn’t mind one bit.

Aizawa gets impatient and increases the vibration control. You yelp and start crawling towards him while the butt plug vibrates and you stumble a bit from the strong vibrations. He smirks as he smokes and watches. The little bell on your collar dings as you crawl towards his legs.

Aizawa bends down a little as he switches the cigarette from one hand to the other and scratches your chin like one would to a cat. He reaches for the bottle of water and a tin bowl on the table and he places his cigarette in his mouth to use both his hands. He pours the water from the bottle in a tin bowl and he places the bowl on the floor.

You’re a trembling mess, resting your weight on your bent arms and then on your bare palms. All of a sudden, in front of you is a silver bowl, pushed by Aizawa’s dress shoes. You look up at him with lost eyes as he inhales his cigarette.

“Drink,” he demands as smoke exits his mouth. You lean down and start licking. The sound is embarrassing. The water laps into your mouth, like it would to a dog's. It felt humiliating. You were one of the most respectful women in the office, and yet you were doing something so humiliating as this. You looked up at him and paused your drinking as a drop of water making a drip sound when it dropped back into the bowl.

Aizawa raises an eyebrow as he blows out smoke. “Who told you to stop?” You stood still and stared at the bowl, refusing to lick it. Aizawa reaches over in his pocket and presses a button.

Buzzzzz

Damn...the vibrator. You let out a whine and tilt your head downwards again to drink the water. He smiles a crooked smile with his cigarette hanging loosely in his mouth. “Mmm, too easy for you,” he states. You stop drinking and look up at him with a confused face. “Hu-AH!”, you let out.

Aizawa pressed the button for the highest level of vibration. You yelped and threw your head down as your collar jingles. Aizawa crossed his legs and with the crossed leg, his dress shoe held your chin up and he looked at you. “Turn around,” he says as he rests his cigarette on the ashtray. While still barely hanging on from the vibrator, you hesitantly turn around and have your plugged asshole in full view for your boss.

Aizawa reaches for a little pink vibrator with a pink battery box. He sticks the vibrator in your pussy and takes a roll of tape and snags a piece with his teeth. He uses the piece to tape the box to your inner thigh. He then presses the “on” button and watches as you tremble in front of him. “Turn back around, kitty cat.”

You whimper and hesitantly turn around and he spreads his thighs open. The vibrator in your cunt feels amazing, and it definitely makes this experience a little better than before. You rub against his legs and nuzzle your head near his inner thighs. You tremble and moan a bit from the vibrators but he picks your chin up and looks at you with his usual mundane and lazy expression.

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches over to his cigarette and places it in your mouth. “Suck,” he commands. You inhale while staring up at him and as he pulls the cigarette out of your mouth, he grips your jaw and prys it open. You blow the smoke out gently in his open mouth. He breaks away and takes the cigarette back into his mouth and settles back down into his seat.

You begin to unbuckle his dress pants and he pulls out his hard dick. You hold your mouth out open and feel excited that his dick is all yours. He pulls it out and gently smacks your cheeks with it. You bite your lip and begin to suck his tip, causing him to throw his head back and he groans as the cigarette is in his mouth. He pushes it deeper into your mouth and he slides it to the side where it protrudes your cheeks.

You playfully suck it and look up at him as part of it is hitting your cheek. You swirl it around with your tongue. You begin to lose your mind as the vibrations are wanting to make you cum. While being on your knees, you reach down and begin to rub circles around you clit with Aizawa’s dick still in your mouth.

He peeks and reaches into his pocket and shuts off both vibrators. You let out a whine and close your legs to try and continue your orgasm, but it has already been ruined. Aizawa takes you out of your mouth and grips your jaw. “Who the fuck told you to cum whenever you want?” You close your eyes and lick your lips. You open your mouth and smile. He tightens his grip and has a furious expression, especially at your teasing smile. You knew you did something wrong. And you didn’t care.

You try to make it up to him as your hand reaches over to his dick to jerk him off. He let go of your jaw and backed down to his chair and you purred, “I’m sorry, Sir. I only cum when my master tells me too,” you said in a seductive voice as you rubbed your thighs together to try and play with your clit. You nuzzled your head on his pants and lazily jerked his dick.

He inhales his cigarette again and watches, almost untrustworthy. You begin to slightly deep throat it as he gently pets your hair and blows out smoke. You suddenly feel him grab a chunk of your hair and thrust into your throat while his cigarette sat tight in his sealed mouth. It wasn't hitting the back of your throat. It was sliding down your throat.

You couldn’t breathe. The smell of his cologne was the only thing you could sense as of right now. It was mixed with the smell of cigarettes as he pushed your head down to his lower abdomen. He placed his cigarette in the ashray and reached into his pocket. He turns on both your vibrators again and your brows furrow at the feeling. You start losing your mind and your eyes slightly close as you begin to tear up. He keeps pushing your head down as you just take all of his dick. Your orgasm creeps up on you, and Aizawa’s words don’t help. “You walk around like you’re this boss lady, but you are just a needy whore.”

He pulls out to let you breathe for a second and you cough and whimper and close your thighs to try and have a little hint of an orgasm. He gets angry at the thought of you coming again without his permission and he stands up and grabs a chunk of your hair and slams your nose back into his snail trail as your throat accepts his dick down its wet tunnel. The slippery sounds of your spit and Aizawa’s balls smacking your chin were the only thing you could hear. He finally shoots his milk all down your throat. “Awww...yeahhhh fuck! *He immediately pulls out and cups your cheeks. “Open your mouth,” he says while breathing heavily from his immediate orgasm.

With mascara running down your face, as well as your spit and drool dripping onto your thighs, you hold your mouth open full of his cum. He reaches over to his cigarette and inhales it. Then, he bends down and blows it in your open mouth. “Swallow, baby,” he says sweetly. You swallow and whimper as your orgasm approaches. Aizawa chuckles and shuts off the vibrators much to your dismay. "Whyyyyyy?", you moan. Aizawa put out his cigarette and states, “Because you weren’t a good kitty.”

He reached down into his pocket and pull out a tin can of what looked like mints. He opened it and pulled out a small pill. “Open for me again, kitty.” You open your mouth hesitant to what he was going to put into your mouth. He placed the pill in your mouth and instructed you not to swallow yet. He closed the can, and put his dick back into his pants and zipped up. The pill tasted awful, nothing like a mint at all. He walked over to the mini bar and took a bottle of liquor and took a swing and he gripped your cheek and kissed you. He poured all of the drink into your mouth and you gulped it, along with the pill. He let go and you breathed heavily and wiped your lips.

“That should go into effect in an hour or two,” he chuckled and walked away. You looked at him with a worried face and turned your head to see where he walked over to. He walked to the bar and had an sinister smile on his face.

*It was a diuretic pill, basically it’s supposed to make you pee, like a lot and very quickly. Part 2 coming soon*

#aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #mha #anime #bnha aizawa

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

Text

it will come back [pt. 2] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 1] [Part 3]

A/N: Title from the Hozier song—“don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: yandere, violence (not directed toward reader), crying, Shiggy REALLY likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep, non-explicit sexual content. [In later parts: 18+, sex, other stuff]

He—Tomura—keeps visiting.

At first you think it’s because of the free medical care, and you wish you had the spine to tell him to suck it up and go see a professional. After a couple weeks turn into a couple months and his wounds fade into ragged purple scars, though, you start to think differently.

Within a short time Tomura has figured out your work schedule, and he does a decent job of not showing up after your long shifts. The unavoidable consequence of this is that he ends up monopolizing your precious days off, but you come to the realization about a month and a half in that you don’t actually mind. You like it. It’s like spending time with a friend.

Mostly you guys talk. It doesn’t seem like Tomura really has anyone to talk to the way the two of you do, but that’s probably just you projecting. It’s usually shallow stuff—TV shows you like, video games he plays, funny stories from patients you treated. Sometimes when you’re cooking for yourself, you make extra for him. (It happens a lot, actually, and at one point you bring up how much his appetite is costing you and the next time you see him he brings a bag of rice and makes you a porridge that crunches between your teeth when you try to eat it. You can’t finish yours, but he eats an entire bowl and insists that you’re being picky.)

Sometimes he sleeps over on the couch, but he’s always gone when you wake up.

The two of you skirt around the heavier stuff, and you know it’s intentional on his part. You have to resist the urge to ask him about being a villain—he’s all but confirmed it for you, and it’s human nature to be curious, isn’t it? In the same way you can’t help looking at a car crash, you want to poke and prod and find out what it is, exactly, that Tomura does for a living. That part of his life is suspiciously absent from your discussions—if you didn’t know better, you’d think he spends all of his time sleeping and playing games and breaking into your place.

On the other hand, you don’t want to know. Plausible deniability. You can accept criminality in the abstract, but you’ve treated too many victims of the bullshit hero–villain battle to be comfortable really knowing why Tomura avoids public places.

So you don’t ask about it, and Tomura doesn’t tell, and you don’t look up his name. And it’s easy. It’s nice. You’d forgotten what it’s like to come back to a home that isn’t empty.

And then one day when you get off a few hours early from your shift, you stop by a convenience store to pick up some snacks for yourself (hey, you’ve been working hard, you’re entitled to binge a little on foods that you’re afraid to look at the fat content for), and you think, Hm, I wonder if Tomura wants some.

[You: 7:49 PM] > Are you coming over today? [T: 7:49 PM] > Yeah why [You: 7:51 PM] > Getting snacks > Want some? [T: 7:51 PM] > No

[T: 8:12 PM] > When r u coming back to ur place

[T: 8:58 PM] > Hey where are you

[T: 9:39 PM] > (Y/N)?

There’s a man with a gun in the convenience store.

It takes you a second to process at first. You’re standing in the snack food aisle seeking out Oreos and debating the merits of Double Stuf vs. Mega when you catch the mumbled demand and the metallic clicking noise you’ve only ever heard in movies before. It’s a gun—you know that, but your mind dismisses it because it’s ridiculous. Guns are rare in hero society. People don’t go around robbing bodegas at gunpoint anymore.

(You should know better. You work in a goddamn ER. But you compartmentalize, and the crimes you see written across your patients’ bodies stay out of the realm of your personal life because you need them to.)

It’s only when you see the muzzle of a hunting rifle pushed up to the cashier’s sweaty neck that you really understand what’s happening.

You drop to the ground immediately, looking toward the exit but it’s shut and there’s some kind of metal…thing holding the door closed. The cashier mumbles a denial and you can hear him fumble around with the cash drawer for what feels like ages.

It’s real. This is real. You’re in the middle of a robbery. Where are the heroes? Why isn’t anyone doing anything?

God, you’re a hypocrite, cowering behind the aisle divider and waiting for someone to step up while the robber’s demands get increasingly louder and more frantic. He wants money, and the cashier (who, you remember, is a man in his sixties with hands that shake with Parkinson’s when he holds out your receipt) isn’t being fast enough.

“That’s it? There’s no more? Are you fucking kidding me, there’s gotta be a safe or something—“

“No! No, p-please, I’m sorry, this is all I have!”

You cringe, crushing your eyes closed as if that will make it go away. You’re surprised you can hear at all over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

“Don’t fuck with me old man, I know there’s more! Show me the safe or I’ll blow your goddamn brains out!”

No! You have to do something. You can’t just sit here. You’ve heard plenty of death threats from your patients (not to mention that one from Tomura), and you know the difference between a bluff and a serious warning. Maybe you can catch the robber off guard, try to pull the gun away? You stand up quickly, hoping against hope that you won’t regret this, but in a split second you see that the cashier has the same idea and he’s trying to pull the rifle out of the robber’s hand and—

BANG.

Something warm and wet splatters across your face.

///

Tomura is angry when you get back to the apartment. As soon as he hears your key in the lock he rises from your couch so he can grab your collar with three fingers, jerking your head up to force you to look at him. “Where have you been? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting—“

But he cuts short in the middle of his sentence. Maybe because he sees the look on your face. Or maybe he just notices the traces of blood you haven’t been able to wipe off.

“What happened,” Tomura says. It’s not a question. He adjusts his grip slightly so it’s not quite as punishing, but you hold still anyway.

You have to force your mouth open in order to speak, but when your voice comes out it’s more steady than you thought it would be. “It’s not my blood. There was a robbery at the store. The cashier got shot.”

“Oh.” He releases you and frowns. “That’s it?”

“Fuck you.” You push past him into the kitchen to get yourself a drink with trembling hands. Pantry’s out of shōchū, whiskey will just make you sicker—ahh, there it is. Baijiu. The glug glug glug of the liquor into the glass does nothing to put your nerves at ease, but you pour yourself a double anyway.

“Wait—wait.” Tomura’s hands twitch and rub over his arms like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. “Calm down. Why are you so upset? Don’t you see this stuff every day?”

You do. You’re an ER nurse. There’s no injury you haven’t seen. But it’s not about the blood. “I...I knew him. The cashier. He was nice. He had a grandkid on the way. I—“ You bite your lip and down the baijiu in one gulp. It burns.

Tomura clearly doesn’t know how to comfort you; probably doesn’t even really know why you need to be comforted. What does it mean that death is so meaningless to him? you wonder. But you need someone to listen to you, clueless or not, and Tomura will have to do.

The baijiu is still bitter and hot down your throat when you speak again. “You know something? Know what they asked me when the heroes finally showed up and pulled us out of there, me and the corpse?”

“…What?” Tomura asks warily.

“They stuck a camera in my face and asked me if there was anything I wanted to say to the hero who saved me. Any words of gratitude I wanted to share,” you spit. Now it’s your turn to feel your hands making fists at your sides. Your fingernails scratch into your palms like the pain can be an outlet for the sudden overwhelming fury spilling over you. “They didn’t save him. They were too late.”

Tomura’s eyes widen, and through your curtain of anger you can tell he’s looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. It’s unlike him to even look directly at you, and when he does it’s usually in disinterest or half-sincere irritation. This, though…this is different. He’s watching you like a believer watches a prophet. You can tell—or at least some deep, ugly part of you that you hope is wrong can tell—that he’s trying not to smile.

“I hate this,” you say, and the first tear drips out of your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s awful. You don’t want to cry in front of Tomura. You don’t want to show him how weak you are. But before you can wipe it away, Tomura’s hand comes up and does it for you, smearing the tear over your cheek in a gesture that—for him—is oddly tender.

Then he hugs you.

It’s stiff and awkward, like he’s forgotten how to do it, but the intention is clear. His arms fold around your back, pulling you into his chest while his chin makes its way to rest on your shoulder. He’s leaning into you so deeply that your spine is arched back, and you stagger away from him only for him to step closer again to make up the distance.

“It’s not fair, hm,” he murmurs into your hair. His tone is the closest thing to sympathy you’ve ever heard from him, but there’s an undercurrent of excitement you can’t ignore. “They’re always too late, aren’t they? The heroes… And everyone will watch that video of you thanking the heroes, and they’ll think they’re safe too. They’ll keep going about their lives and think that nothing bad can happen to them because a hero will always be around to save them…but you and I know that’s a lie.”

It takes you a second to recognize the emotion that’s raising goosebumps over your arms while Tomura rubs circles into your back, but when it clicks you shiver because it’s fear. You’ve never really been afraid of Tomura before, even when you should’ve been. Does he realize he’s backing you up with how forcefully he’s pushing himself into you? The backs of your knees hit the arm of your couch and you topple onto it with Tomura following.

He holds himself above you on his hands, legs tangled with yours. His eyes are wild and he’s not even trying to suppress his grin now. You’re trapped lying on your back under him—pinned like a butterfly under glass.

“Get off of me,” you say as calmly as you can.

“It’s all a lie, all of it…” A hand comes up and strokes your cheek, rubbing with two fingers at a stray fleck of blood on your neck. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, but I’m so glad you understand…”

“Let me up now, Tomura.”

He holds still for a long moment—waiting, thinking, considering—and then sits up, still straddling you but loosely enough that you can scramble back away from him on the couch. Your heart is racing, but you try to slow your breaths so he doesn’t pick up on how scared you are.

“Don’t freak out. You’re no fun,” Tomura says, and you exhale a sigh of relief at how normal he sounds. You never thought you’d be so happy about him looking at you like you’re nothing.

“I think you should go,” you say carefully.

He rocks back on his heels and runs a hand through his hair. “Are you mad? I thought I could stay here tonight, like usual. Since I waited for so long.”

“I’m not mad. I just…want to be alone.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone tonight. Not after what you’ve been through.”

Oh, now you care. “Fine. Okay? Fine. You can sleep on the couch.” You’re too tired to argue any more, and you’ve never really been good at convincing Tomura to do anything he doesn’t want to. It’s a miracle he listened to you when you told him to get off you. Considering how often he breaks into your apartment, it’s not like you could keep him out anyway.

So he stays the night. He doesn’t bother you when you take a shower and go to bed, he just lies on the couch in his street clothes. When you wake up in the morning he’s disappeared like he always does, and for the first time since you met him you’re truly relieved that he’s gone.

///

You always thought it would take some level of courage you don’t possess to actually bite the bullet and look Tomura up. To do so would mean saying goodbye to whatever strange relationship the two of you have built over the months, and you’re just not brave enough to risk it.

Turns out it’s not courage that makes you type his name into the search bar. It’s cowardice. You’re lying in bed under the covers when you do it, and the blue-white screen of your laptop is the only light in the room. Your comforter is pulled up almost over your head like it’s a wall that can block out reality.

“tomura”, you enter into the search bar, but you don’t hit return. Instead, you look at the search suggestions.

> tomura shigaraki > tomura shigaraki league of villains > tomura shigaraki decay

Something about it sounds familiar. But you’re not ready. Still, after everything, you’d rather keep your eyes closed. You backspace and snap your laptop shut, and when you do your room is so dark that you think the emptiness might swallow you up.

///

[T: 5:52 PM] > Are u going to be at home tn

[T: 6:14 PM] > Hey check ur phone

[T: 6:42 PM] > Stop ignoring me > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N)

[T: 6:46 PM] 3 MISSED CALLS [You: 6:50 PM] > I’m at work [T: 6:50 PM] > Don’t lie > you finished an hour ago

[T: 7:13 PM] 1 MISSED CALL [T: 7:14 PM] > You said you werent mad [You: 7:15 PM] > I’m not [T: 7:15 PM] > Then stop being a brat > im coming over > ill bring takeout

You’re nervous about seeing him, but in the two weeks since he pushed you down on the couch you’ve found yourself…missing him. Like it or not, he’s made himself a fixture in your life. So when you get home you’re brimming with anticipation, wondering who you’ll get when you open the door—the normal Tomura you’ve come to like over the past few months, or the one from that night. The villain.

But it’s just him. Good old Tomura, laden with plastic bags and containers of greasy fast food for the two of you to gorge yourselves on. You tease him for being cheap and he argues that you’re just a snob and everything seems so normal that you can almost forget the look in his red eyes when he told you that you understood.

Almost.

///

You probably have no idea how good you look when you’re crying.

Of the couple thousand views on the news channel video of your “rescue” from the convenience store robber, at least a tenth are from Tomura. Eventually he just downloads the video onto his computer so he doesn’t have to read the inane comments that the other viewers leave on the webpage. It seems like everyone but him thinks you should feel lucky that you were saved by a hero before the robber could get to you, too.

As always, the public are a bunch of shit-soaked morons. Reading the comments makes him angry, so angry he’s tempted to look into a few of these brainless sheep and see how lucky they feel when they’ve caught the attention of a violent criminal. But that wouldn’t be productive, so he saves the video externally and leaves the news website alone. It’s for the best. Besides, seeing the “views” counter on the website tick up and up by the dozen every time he refreshes is just another reminder that other people are watching this; other people are seeing how delicate and vulnerable and pretty you are with tears spilling out of your eyes and the cashier’s blood sprayed over your clothing.

Thousands of useless fucking NPCs are looking at you just like Tomura is. They’re probably thinking about how sweet you look, just like he is. And they’re probably imagining all the ways they can take advantage of your fragile emotional state, just like him.

You’re too trusting for your own good. Tomura used to think it was a virtue, and it is, but only when it comes to him. Whenever he thinks about how your face is slapped over a dozen different news websites for the whole world to see, he has to dig his fingernails into his neck to keep calm. It’s better when he can just watch the video and pretend he’s the only one seeing it.

And it’s not like not watching the video is an option. Tomura can’t resist your crying face. There’s a point around the three minute mark where your voice breaks in the middle of your statement, and sometimes Tomura skips there in the video just so he can hear that pathetic little sob and replay it over and over and over. Maybe it’s sappy, but Tomura really does feel his heart skip a beat at the way your eyes and nose are rubbed red from your misery.

How fucked up is it that he gets off watching you cry?

Would you be angry if you knew? You probably would, but you put up with so much from him already. Maybe you’d be okay with it if he told you he really and truly tried to hold out. The first dozen times Tomura watched the video, he refused to touch himself no matter how tight his pants got while you choked out your stilted answers to the reporters’ questions, but at this point he barely has to click “play” on the video before he gets hard and takes matters into his own hands.

At the end of the day, it’s your fault. Everything about you is so erotic, from your shaky voice to your pouty, bitten-red lips. Isn’t it completely normal to be aroused while looking at the person you like? And Tomura likes you, he really likes you. He doesn’t have any pictures of you, and with the high definition of the news channel’s video he can see every perfect contour of your cheekbones, every pore in your skin, every glistening wet eyelash.

It’s not that Tomura doesn’t feel sympathy for how upset you are in the video. He does! Not even just sympathy, even—he’s empathetic. He knows exactly how it feels to be let down by the heroes. How dare they tell you you need to be grateful while you’re still trying to wipe brain matter off your shirt? Always too little, too late. It’s not fair.

But if he’s being honest? As miserable as you are, Tomura is happy that you were in the store when that robber came in and that you had to watch a man you knew get his brains blown out in front of you. You need a wake-up call to lose faith in hero society. If you have to suffer some emotional trauma in the process, that seems like a fair price to pay.

And the fact that Tomura gets to jerk off to it? It’s almost like destiny.

➠ [Part 3]

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fictionalmenmakemecry · 3 years

Text

We Have History Together

Requested

Characters: Stefan x Reader

Summary: Stefan and reader have a project that due but get distracted in the process ;)

Includes: Smut , swearing

I always been interested in history, it's always been one of my favorite classes. Since the beginning of the school year, I've been struggling to keep my mind in check when it comes to wandering thoughts. Saying that, these thoughts might have something to do with the new person in our class. Stefan Salvatore. He's been getting the normal amount of attention when it comes to any new victim of this school. He seem to keep to himself mostly. Over the last couple of weeks, it's been particularly harder to keep focused as we have been put into groups for class project and you guessed it, Stefan and I were put together.

At the start of the project, things were kinda awkward because I knew nothing about him. But we slowly start to get comfortable with each other as every history class was us working on our project. It being a big percentage of our final grade, I wanted to ace this. As the weeks went on, he would do little things that I never expected, like bring me my favorite snack when he knew I was going to be late for class and forgot to bring lunch. He would bring me his favorite history books that he thought I would enjoy. We really did start becoming close friends. But I knew I had other feelings that I wanted to ignore. The more time we spent together the more I started to notice how good he smelt, especially when he leant across to grab something on the other side of the desk. I would be listening to him and suddenly get lost in his green eyes and how his lips looked so sof-

"You okay?" He asked looking into my eyes.

"Uh-h yeah, sorry, in my own world there." I chuckled feeling my face get warmer wondering if he was on to me.

"I just didn't get enough sleep last night" I lied.

He glanced down at this book and smiled "Okay, well for the conclusion I think-"

"Sorry guys, just to let you know the library will be closing in 15 minutes, we close early on Sundays" The old grey haired librarian spoke softly as she walked past our desk.

"Oh shit, yeah I forgot" I said looking down at my phone

"Well, if you want, we can go back to my place and finish the last few things. I don't think it should take too long" He offered as he closed his laptop and packed his things away.

My heart sped up when he mentioned his place, what the hell is wrong with me. I needed to get ahold of myself if I'm going back to his place. I cleared my throat not wanting my excitement to show through.

"Totally, that sounds good" I nodded

We both got into our own cars and I followed him until we got to his place. I wasn't expecting much but his house was this gigantic Tudor mansion. I couldn't believe my eyes. I felt my hands getting sweatier as we got closer. I got out of my car, still looking around in amazement trying to figure out how rich he was.

We never really talked about life outside school. So I really didn't know much about his life.

"Holy shit" I said quietly to myself but he manage to hear making his way towards me as he chuckled to himself.

"It's not what you think. I'm not rich" He said still smiling at me

"Then wha-" I gestured at the grand building in front of me

"It's a long story" He interrupted me

As we walked towards the house, I could sense him getting fidgety beside me which is so different compared to his calm confident self.

"Before we go in, I'm just warning you that I have a brother, Damon. He can be forward and how can I put this... an ass." He said bluntly.

"Try and ignore him, he's been really pissing me off lately" Stefan walked ahead of me putting his hand on the handle of the door.

I didn't say anything because I didn't what to say or think. He can't be that bad. But I never seen Stefan like this so maybe he is. This was definitely not settling my nerves.

He opened the door and this hallways just lead to this huge room with an unimaginable sized fireplace. I couldn't stop myself from looking around.

"Make yourself comfortable, do you want anything to drink or eat?" Stefan said as he walked toward a door that I presumed lead to the kitchen.

"I wouldn't mind some water" I felt my mouth becoming dryer as the seconds went by.

Stefan disappeared into the next room and I walked around the room trying to get a grasp of the place.

"Well, hello there" a smooth voice came from the balcony which I didn't even realize was there a moment ago.

I whipped around to see, a man who was older than Stefan and must have been Damon.

"Uh- Hi" I raised my hand to wave and felt startled from his presence.

He walked down the stairs towards me with this confidence that was completely different to Stefan. As he got closer I felt he icy blue eyes look me over and I felt uneasy.

"I didn't know we were having guests" Damon smirked

"Yeah, just coming over to finish off history p-project" I stuttered.

I started getting more nervous wondering where the hell Stefan was. Where the hell was he getting this water from, Niagara falls?

Damon walked closer to me. Closer than stranger should be. He seemed completely at ease and mostly enjoying this.

"You have really beautiful eyes" Damon looked into them and I felt his stare getting deeper and deeper.

"I really hope Damon is not being a pain in the ass" Stefan appeared with sandwich and water

Damon rolled his eyes and took a step back making his way over to a side table with a assortment of liquors.

"I was just introducing myself" He said giving me a little smile before pouring himself a glass of brown color rink.

I could see Stefan sighing and shaking his head as he made his way up the stairs.

"Come on Y/N, let's go and finish off the project"

I made my way across the room and followed Stefan, feeling Damon's eyes on me the whole time until we were out of sight. I closed the door behind me as we got to Stefan's room. His room matched the rest of the aesthetic of the house. He made space for the sandwich and water on his desk which was covered in books.

"I noticed you didn't eat much today, so I made you peanut butter and jelly sandwich." he said trying to make room for chairs so we both could sit at his desk.

"Um, thank you. that's really kind" I smiled sitting beside him.

I wasn't hungry at all. My stomach was all over the place knowing that we were in a room together, alone. I kept rubbing my hands along my jeans trying to stop them from being clammy. He was different, he was irritated by something. I didn't want to pry but I was worried that he was regretting inviting me over.

"Is everything okay?" I asked quietly afraid to hear what I didn't want to hear.

He looked down and looked back up at me again.

"My brother pissed me off. He always like that around women and I'm sick of it. He just treats women like objects and- I'm sorry. You don't need to hear this." He sighs.

"It's okay, so he's kind of a ladies man?" I asked

"I wouldn't saying using women whenever he wants something a ladies m- that's not the point. The point is that you're a genuine good person Y/N" He looks at me and keeps eye contact lingering to the point I have to look away because I feel myself blushing.

"If he got his chance, he would..." Stefan looked around like he was trying to think of a word "taint you". landing his eyes back on me when saying that.

At this point, I'm pretty sure my heart beat was banging in my ears and I know my cheeks were permanently red. He must know how I felt about him, My body was letting me down right now and letting him know exactly how I felt about him, I couldn't hide it anymore.

He got up from the chair and walked around with his hands behind is head like he was trying to calm himself down. I was starting to worry because I never seen him so annoyed before. I got up from the chair and took a step toward him.

"Is there anything I can do to try and get your mind off of this?" I asked while picking at my fingers.

He turned around and looked directly at me across the room.

"Do you like me Y/N?" Stefan asked his face completely serious.

I think in that moment my heart skipped a beat. My mouth opened and in my mind I screamed yes but no noise came out. I looked down and back up, he was still looking at me. I could tell he was trying to read me.

"Yes I do" I nodded knowing that my voice might not be heard from speaking so quietly.

I could hear him release his breath, I looked down, all of a sudden too shy to look him in the eyes. I could hear him slowly walking towards me. I felt him get close to me, closer than friends should get. I felt his hand at the bottom of my chin and bring my face up to his. His lips were just about to touch mine. All my senses were overwhelmed. I could smell his cologne, feel his body heat, feel his hot breath against my lips. I looked up into his eyes not realizing how green they actually were.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered

I couldn't make any sound, I nodded ever so slightly. I felt him lean in and his lips pressed against mine. I felt his thumb brush against my jaw. I felt my knees wanting to buckle under me. So I wrapped my arms around his neck feeling his other hand on my side. He was so gentle, like he was scared of actually breaking me. I leaned more into him wanting him to know I wanted more. I felt his tongue brushing along my lips and I wanted to taste him. I wanted to feel his tongue against mine. I starting getting lost in the kissing and without realizing I was up against the wall. I felt his body push up against mine. His body felt so strong but gentle at the same time. I ran my hand up the back of his head and down his neck on his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath the shirt. He pulled away, making me realize that we were both out of breath.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that" He said while glancing down at my lips.

"I know the feeling" I smiled.

"When I'm with you, it's hard for me to keep control. The way Damon looked at you today, made me lose any control I had left" Stefan leaned in putting his hand up against the wall beside me.

I looked into his eyes knowing what I wanted from him. I felt this hungry inside me that I hadn't felt in months.

"Stefan, I don't think I want you to have control around me" I put my hands on his chest and bit my lip

I could see him looking deep into my eyes making sure what I said was actually what I wanted.

"What do you want from me ?" Stefan looked down on my lips knowing what I wanted but wanting to hear it,

"I want you to fuck me" I looked down at his lips and whispered.

Stefan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them again and leaned in, kissing me. It was different this time. He had the same hunger I had now. I leaned into him and I felt him reach down to my thighs and lifted me up with ease, I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked over the bed and laid me down gently. I felt his hands on my waist and brushing them over my body and got my arms and put them over my head. He climbed on the bed and starting kissing my neck and I felt something sharp on my neck for a split second but then it disappeared. I reached down and pulled off his shirt and admired his toned body underneath.

"Fuck, you're hot" I whispered to myself feeling myself getting wetter by the second.

He looked up at me "Nothing compared to you baby" He smirked

As he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down, I pulled off my top and tossed it aside somewhere. I felt our chests press up against each other and the warmth they shared. I felt him getting harder as he kissed my body more. I couldn't resist anymore, I unbuttoned his jeans and pulled everything down, releasing his hardening cock for me.

"You don't know how much I need you right now " He moaned as I gripped his cock and pumped him

"I want to feel you inside me " I said as I kissed his neck

He slid down my body spreading my legs as he went.

"I want you to taste me, but right now I can't wait any longer. Please fuck me" I begged

He looked at me and kiss my folds before getting up and leaning over to nightstand taking out a foil packaged.

He rolled on the condom and climbed on top of me. His hand disappeared between us as his fingers slowly went in me and start to pull out and push in.

"You're so wet for me" He whispered taking his hand away and sucking on his fingers "Mmmm.. taste so good too baby"

I moaned knowing it was going to feel so good when it enters me.

He positioned himself until he was at my entrance and slowly thrusted forward feeling myself open up to him. He kissed me and nuzzled himself in my neck moaning as he felt my walls grip onto him.

"You feel so good, fuck." He moans as he stays in place as we both take the feeling.

He started thrusting in and out as we both started getting used to each other. He started kissing my sensitive nipples which made me melt into the bed.

"I need you to fuck me harder" I said while feeling his body over me

"You want me to fuck you harder?" He teased while slowing down

"Please" I pleaded knowing that would make my cum hard

"My pleasure" He moved with faster and rougher force.

We fucked feeling both of our climaxes climbing. I wasn't able to hold back and he could tell.

"I'm not going to be able to hold off much longer, are you close?" He moaned feeling him starting to lose rhythm.

"Nearly baby" I said out of breath

He changed position as he put my legs on his shoulders and starting thrusting hard and fast.

"Baby,I can't- fuck, I going to cum"

"Me too" I moaned feeling my walls milk him

We both came, as he got his release he fell forward hovering over me catching his breath and kissing me gently.

"You're incredible" He whispered in my ear and looking at me brushing my hair out of my face

"Ditto" I smiled kissing him gently.

We both cuddled for the next couple of hours and talked, taking in the intimate moment we had.

We spent an all nighter finishing the history project and trying not to distract each other.

#vampire diaries #smut #stefan salvatore #stefan #fluff #stefan x reader #reader #vampire x reader

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padfootagain · 4 years

Text

A Very Rose Mistake (I)

Part 1: How It All Began

Here we goooo!! New series! This is from a request from my 4.7k followers event, with the prompts 22 and 23 (I won't put them here, cause I don't want to spoil too much… you can check them on my post for the event if you want by doing a quick research.) by @paniconthepitch .

It's a fake-dating AU with the best friends to lovers trope, and it's gonna be a wile ride!!! There won't be any warnings in this fic except for some angst and tooth-rotting fluff, as usual for me :)

So, I hope you like it! I'm gonna structure the fic a little differently compared to what I usually do (even if it's nothing extraordinary), so tell me if you like this first chapter, so I know if you like how I've organized the fic!

Tell me what you think, please! I'm very excited and nervous to share the first chapter with all of you!

Oh, also, I don't like talking about the whole covid crisis in my fics (I write to mainly escape from it), so even though the fic happens this year, there isn't any virus around, so no one is breaking distancing rules or anything.

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count : 4516

Holmes Chapel

1999

It was a warm summer in Northern England. Sun high and warm and skies bluer than blue.

Your parents were unboxing some of your stuff in your new home, but it was the afternoon, and the weather was way too nice for you to stay inside. Instead, despite your tiny body, you had managed to climb on top of the stone wall that enclosed your garden and separated it from the street. Just a little patch of grass on the front of the house, but it was nice. You looked at the cars driving across the street, a thin layer of sweat making your forehead glisten in the sun because of how warm it was. You could hear your parents' distant voices through the open window of the living room. The air smelled of gasoline and blossoming roses from your neighbours' house. From time to time, a dog barked in one of the tiny gardens further down the street.

You were eating an ice-cream, that your mother had prepared for you by putting it in a paper cup. Some of it was sticky on your chin, but you didn't mind. It was good, and you were having fun looking at the new neighbourhood.

A little boy pranced out of the house on your right, carrying a bag to put in the bin outside the house. He seemed to be around five years old, just like you.

As he saw you sitting on the low wall, a curious expression settled on his features, and he tilted his head in wonder. He had never seen you before, and it was very surprising, as he knew all the children living in the street, even the ones who were older than his sister.

He thus decided to walk over to you and investigate.

You beamed at him as he approached, hoping to make a new friend already. It was your first day in this town, you reckoned it would make a great start for the life in your new home.

"Hi!" You waved at him, and his cautious behaviour slightly faded as he smiled back at you.

"Hi. Who are you?" He asked bluntly, a frown wrinkling his round face, chubby cheeks turned pink by the heat, and a bundle of dark blonde hair getting messy as he pushed a few locks out of his green eyes.

"I'm Y/N. My parents and I are moving in this house. Do you live there?" You asked too, pointing at the house he had walked out of.

He nodded slowly, seeming satisfied with your answer.

"Yep," he answered, popping the p at the end. "Why are you alone?" he went on, a lisp making him trip over his words a little.

"My parents are cleaning stuff inside. And I don't have friends here yet."

Again, he nodded at your explanation.

You remembered your grand-mother's advice about making friends, and reckoned that if you wanted to make the little boy your first companion in the neighbourhood, you needed to offer him something. So, you handed him the rest of your ice-cream.

"Do you want some?" you asked with a bright smile.

The boy decided that he liked seeing you smile. You were missing a couple of baby teeth, and it was such a happy gesture that he wanted to make you laugh instead.

He remembered the joke that his sister had played on their cousin that had made the whole table laugh. He reckoned that it should do the trick.

So, instead of taking the ice cream you were offering him, he jumped up and pushed it against your face.

And indeed, your face covered in vanilla ice-cream was hilarious, and he exploded with laughter.

But you weren't laughing at all, as the boy laughed at you. Instead, hot tears started to form at the corner of your eyes, and you looked at the little boy with so much hurt and betrayal on your features that his laugh died in his throat as quickly as it had formed in the first place.

When you started to actually cry, he was panicking.

"Hey, don't cry," he said, as if asking for a favour. "I... I didn't want to make you cry. I thought it was funny."

But you just kept on crying, and he felt so terribly awful seeing you like this that he found himself on the verge of tears too. Your eyes were turning puffy and you were sniffing, and seemed so miserable... he didn't want to see that look on your face, ever. He liked your face too much, actually.

"I'm sorry. It was a joke. Don't cry. Is it because you dropped the rest of your ice-cream?"

You didn't answer, quietly crying still, and he rushed to his house, running as fast as his little legs could carry him. And you were even more miserable than before.

So much for making a friend...

You were about to go back inside, finding no fun in being out anymore and wanting to clean up your face when you saw him running out of the house again.

He was carrying what seemed to be a container full of ice-cream and a spoon.

"Here!" He handed you the two objects, struggling to catch his breath after his run. "You can have mine instead. I'm sorry you didn't find my joke funny. Please, don't cry anymore."

Hesitantly, you took the objects from him, awaiting a new trick, but none came. You opened the box to discover some chocolate ice-cream, as promised.

"I'm sorry. I don't have vanilla one. But maybe Mrs. Richard has some... she keeps this kind of stuff all the time for when her grand-children come visit... do you want me to check for you?"

He seemed earnest, and his green eyes were full of concern. But you shook your head, eating a spoonful of his ice-cream.

"It's good. Thank you," you quipped, making him beam up at you.

He noticed that you weren't crying anymore, but you were pouting still, and he didn't like that look on you either. He wondered what more could he do to make you properly smile again.

"Why did you do that in the first place though?" You asked, interrupting his train of thoughts as he considered running to his room to get his new toy, thinking that maybe if he let you borrow it, you would feel better. But only on the condition that you didn't put ice cream on the red plastic car, of course...

"My sister made that joke to our cousin once, and it made everybody laugh, so I thought it would make you laugh too. I don't know why you didn't think it was funny, I thought it was fun!"

"You're not the one who got covered in ice-cream," you answered with sadness in your voice.

He bit down on his lip, and sheepishly shook his head.

"No... You're right. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I like your ice-cream better," you admitted, and he beamed at you again.

"It's some very good ice-cream! My favourite!"

"Mine too. Want to share?"

He enthusiastically nodded. Climbing on the wall by your side. He handed you the tissue his mother always forced him to have in his pocket at all times. Maybe she was right, it was handy.

You took it with a quiet thank you, trading the tissue against the spoon and you cleaned up your face while he ate some ice-cream too.

And as you looked at him again, you reckoned that maybe it wasn't too late to make a friend, after all.

But you couldn't be friends if you didn't know his name. That would be rude.

"What's your name?" You asked.

He swallowed his mouthful too fast, making his brain freeze and you laughed at the silly face he made as a reaction. He had chocolate all over his mouth, but you reckoned that it made him look even happier.

"Harry. I'm Harry."

Malibu

2020

"What do you mean lying to your family about us? What do you mean you need a 'plus one'?"

You heaved a trembling sigh. You knew that you were asking an awful lot out of your best friend but you simply had no choice.

Your cousin's wedding was in two weeks, and if you went alone you would spend the entire day hearing about how sad it was that you were single, and everyone would try to plan a date fpr you with this cute colleague they had. It wasn't helping that you had decided to move back to England after you would complete your PhD in California. You could not even begin to think about the people at the wedding who would actually make a move on you as the night advanced and veins were slowly filled with more and more liquor.

No, you most definitely did not have the strength to go through this. And all you needed was a tiny lie to escape it all. One tiny lie that would last only for a day and you could actually enjoy the wedding instead of trying to escape from it. You liked your cousin, and knew she would be devastated if you didn't go, so you really had no choice at all.

And all your hopes of spending a decent day relied on your rockstar of a best friend.

Harry was frowning at you, sitting across from you around one of the tables of the Cafe Habana, his pink cocktail since long disregarded as he struggled to understand what was it exactly that you were asking from him.

It was unbelievably warm in Malibu, and your table outside was only salvaged by the weak breeze blowing from time to time. You were nervously fidgeting, your hands resting on the wooden table between you and Harry.

He rubbed his eyes and readjusted his sunglasses upon his head, his green eyes piercing right through you as you explained the situation one more time.

"I need you to accompany me to my cousin's weeding and pretend you're my boyfriend, so I will escape my family's disappointment and all the drunk single guests who will try to dance with me."

"You want us to pretend that we're together. Like... romantically together?"

"Yes."

"During your cousin's wedding. In front of your entire family?"

"Yes."

"And you think that I'm the best man for the job because...?"

"You're my best friend. You've known me basically all my life. You know me better than anyone else on this Earth, it won't be hard for you to pretend like you know all the useful details about me because you actually know them. You get along so well with my parents. Plus, you're an actor now too! Even if it's part-time... You'll do great! Consider it like a training exercise for your career in the movie industry."

"Absolutely the fuck not."

"Harry! Please! I need your help!"

"It's a terrible idea! No... no actually, it's worse than that. It's the worst idea I've ever heard! I can't pretend to be your boyfriend! In front of your whole family! I know your whole family!"

"Harry... please... I need your help, okay? You don't know how they are, it's going to be hell... Half of my family considers that I am a failure because I was not married by the age of 22, and the other half begins to think that the reason I am still single is that I am insane!"

"For their defence, you do sound a little bit crazy right now."

"HARRY!"

"Alright, alright... calm down," he mumbled, raising his hands before him in a gesture of peace. "I was just joking."

"Look, my family is... on that particular point, they're a pain in the arse. I need your help. I will not make it through the day without punching someone if I try to go on my own. And Cassie is so excited at the idea of me going to her wedding! And it's in Scotland! It's gonna be so pretty! Harry, please. It's just for one day."

He heaved a sigh, but you could read in the way that his eyes travelled back and forth from left and right and the way he tugged on his lower lip in between his fingers that he was hesitating.

It was all because of your cute little pout and sad eyes. He couldn't resist those. Never had been able to, even when the two of you were just five years old. Damn you and your adorable face…

"I'll let you eat all the cherries I get from my grandma's orchard this year," you offered, making him smile and shake his head at you.

But you read in his body language that you were winning.

"H, pretty please... just one day... one day... I'll go to all your shows for your next tour. I won't ever tell you again when I don't like one of your songs."

He laughed properly this time.

"Liar, you're too honest. You'll never manage to keep that up. That's why I like you so much."

"Okay... but I will go to your shows. And I'll give you cherries..."

He heaved a final sigh, but nodded this time.

"Alright, I'll do it," he agreed.

"YES!" you cried, jumping to your feet to walk around the table and hug Harry so tightly he could barely breathe. "I knew I could count on you!"

"I mean... if I get cherries..."

"As many as you want!"

You kissed his cheek, loud and ridiculously enthusiastic, making him force a wince to hide the way he longed to grin at the gesture instead.

"Alright, alright, calm down," he gently pushed you away and you sat back down into your own chair. "I have a few conditions though."

"Sure, fire away!"

"Rule number one: no kisses, nothing happens during the day."

"Of course! That would be frankly disgusting!" you teased him. "I'd never want to kiss you!"

"Hey! No need to turn it like that! Careful, or I'll change my mind!"

You rolled your eyes, but waited for him to go on, counting on his fingers.

"Rule number two: I won't sing or do any kind of performance at the wedding."

"She already has a band and everything, no worries. Besides, my aunt doesn't like your music, so she would never let that happen."

"That... was the second blow to my ego in the span of two minutes..."

"It's big enough, it can take it."

He playfully stuck his tongue out at you, and you replied with an adorable giggle.

"Rule number 3: if some elderly member of your family starts being all mushy about us, we drop the act and reveal the whole thing. This only stands as long as it doesn't hurt anyone's feelings."

"Sounds fair."

"And last but not least," he added, shooting you one of his annoyingly charming cheeky grins, "You can't fall in love with me for real."

You scoffed.

"As if! Don't get over yourself! You might have pretty dimples and a nice voice, but you're not half as charming as you might think."

"So… it's all safe! Deal?"

He offered you his open hand, and you shook it with a grin on your lips.

"Thanks, H. You're a real life-saviour."

"HI!!!"

The sound of your cousin's happy shriek was so loud, you had to pull your phone away from your ear. It seemed safer to put it on speaker.

You were back at your place, alone, and had decided to call Cassie to let her know that you would attend her wedding, and would bring Harry along. You were cutting tomatoes to prepare a salad for diner whilst on the phone, the device set on speaker resting upon the counter by your side.

"Hi, Cass! How are you? How is the planning going?"

"It's almost ready! We've just found the flowers and they're perfect! But I wanted to call you actually, you haven't replied yet to the invitation. You're gonna come, right?"

"Of course, I'm coming. That's why I was calling right now. I just..." you cleared your voice before finishing your sentence, your heart rushing as you lied. "I just had to check if my boyfriend was available too, so I could come with him as my plus one. And he can come so..."

Cassie let out another cry full of excitement, interrupting you mid-sentence.

"Your boyfriend!? How come you've never mentioned him before?!"

"Hum... we like our privacy, let's say. But we'll have more time to talk about that at the wedding."

"Of course! We have a whole week to catch up!"

You frowned hard, feeling panic rise into your chest.

What did she mean by that?

"A week?"

"Well, of course! You're coming to the family event, right?"

"The family event?"

"Haven't you received my email?! For the whole week leading to the wedding it's gonna be our closest family members and friends in Scotland! We'll finish getting ready and have lots of fun! I've planned so many activities! You're coming to that, right?"

"I..."

"Oh dear, I can't wait to see you there! It's been ages! Did you really have to move to the States? I've already asked Amy to get your favourite pastries, I know how much you love those snacks. I can't wait to see you... so, you're arriving on Friday or Saturday then?"

You had to tell her the truth. Had to tell her that you had only asked Harry for one day and not a whole week. He was so busy these days working in the studio, there was no way he could clear a whole week for you being notified only a couple of weeks in advance. A weekend could be done but over a week?!

You heaved a sigh. You would have to spend the week on your own, but at least, the news of a boyfriend coming for the ceremony would ease your family's mind. You could still escape most of their terrible comments about your love life.

"I haven't booked my flight yet. Not sure if I'll arrive Friday or Saturday. I'll keep you updated. My boyfriend will be working though, so he can only come for the weekend of the wedding."

"Oh, of course, I understand. What does he do?"

"Hum... he's in the... music business."

She heaved a sigh.

"Oh, Y/N, please, tell me you didn't fall in love with a penniless drummer again, like you did in high school. Not again, sweetie."

You laughed at the memories, shaking your head.

"He's not a drummer. And he's not penniless either. It's Harry."

"HARRY?! Wait… You mean… HARRY HARRY?!"

"I don't even know anyone else called Harry," you laughed. "Yes, Harry Styles, from Holmes Chapel."

"I thought the two of you were just friends."

"Hmm… We… decided to give it a try."

"Wow… Oh. My. God… wait until your mum finds out. Have you told her yet?"

"No, not yet."

"She's gonna freak out."

"Why would she? She knows him! She likes him."

"As your friend, sure! As your boyfriend… Your dad will chop his head off."

"Yeah… I'm a bit worried about my dad."

"You'll have to tell me everything about it, but I have to run now... There is apparently an emergency with the napkins."

"Good luck with that. See you!"

"See you!"

"Hmm... H?"

"Hmm?" He looked up at you from the cup of tea he held in his hands, his long fingers encircling the porcelain to warm his hands.

It was a little chilly, or as chilly as an evening in early autumn could be in LA, at least. You were enjoying a quiet evening with him, spent in his garden. You sat in the grass, with stars and torchlights shedding just enough light for the two of you to keep on playing scrabble. You had stolen his multicolour cardigan when the sun had set and the breeze had turned colder. Harry wore one of his Treat People with Kindness sweaters.

In the distance, a siren rang and then passed Harry's neighbourhood. You could hear muffled laughter coming from children playing in a garden nearby.

It was quiet still, the whisper of the busy city shushed for the most part. Time seemed a little slower now, an effect of the night and the lack of constant busy flow of people around you.

"About my cousin's wedding I told you about the other day... have you booked your flight yet?"

He shook his head, blowing upon his too-warm beverage.

"I figured we should book the same flight," he answered.

"Oh no! I'll be going a week early."

"I thought you were only staying for the weekend," Harry frowned before taking a sip of warm tea.

You could have walked back inside to finish your game now that the weather was cooler. But it was such a precious moment you were sharing that you were too scared to break your bubble if you did move.

After all, evenings spent alone with Harry were too rare to be wasted away.

You didn't blame only his busy schedule and his numerous friends though, you were a busy bee yourself. Entering your last year of PhD and getting ready to write your thesis to become a doctor as an history major was a lot of work. You also had friends of your own that you enjoyed spending time with, and if Harry sometimes joined you at a bar, it just wasn't the same as spending time with only him.

So, you didn't ask him if you could move in the house when you shivered as the wind blew with more strength. Instead, you enjoyed the way his hands moved across the board as he placed his letters to form a new word, his fingers bare, for once not wearing any piece of jewellery.

"No, my cousin is actually inviting the close family a week in advance to spend a few days with us. She has apparently prepared tons of activities and stuff."

"Oh... shouldn't I go to that too, then? As your plus one?"

But you shook your head, a little embarrassed.

"No, I told her you might not be able to attend that but you would be here for the actual wedding. It's alright. You have enough work as it is."

"You're telling me that you're gonna get a whole week alone with your entire family?"

"Only the close circle but... yeah. It's alright though... they're not that bad. Just annoying with the whole 'being single and soon 30' thing."

Harry groaned.

"We're only 26, don't make me older than I am, I don't need a reminder."

He seemed lost in thought for a moment, before he would ask another question.

"Won't they bother you for that week if you go alone?"

"I guess... they're probably gonna pretend like I'm not actually bringing anyone, criticize you a lot for not coming for the whole week, especially as you're a musician and they consider that you don't have a real job..."

"For their defence… I don't have a real job."

You rolled your eyes at him but couldn't refrain a smile.

"Anyway... as long as you come to the actual ceremony, I should be fine."

"Nah... that sounds horrid. I'll come with you to the whole thing."

"H..."

"It's alright! It doesn't bother me at all! Besides, I haven't seen your mum in a long time..."

His eyes grew round all of a sudden.

"Wait... we're gonna have to lie to your mum..."

"And to my dad."

His worried expression turned into one of fear.

"Oh fuck... your dad is going to kill me."

You laughed at him, but it was hard to hide your own fear at the idea of the two of you facing your father.

"Of course not! He likes you!"

"Likes me? Have you forgotten the closed-door incident that summer when we were 14? Cause I haven't... I thought he was going to strangle me or something..."

"We're not 14 anymore."

"Yeah, but we're going to tell him that I am really fucking his daughter this time. It's much worse..."

You couldn't refrain a bright wave of laughter, despite the genuine fear in Harry's eyes.

"It's not funny!"

"It is. It is kind of funny. Don't worry, he won't hurt you. You know my dad, lots of barking but no actual biting."

"What about when we mysteriously break up right after the wedding?"

"We'll just wait a few weeks before I break the news to them. I can even pretend that I'm the one who called it quits, if you'd like."

"I better hope so! Or I'm going to earn a good old sermon from my mum."

"Anne can be terrifying at times."

"That's because she's the sweetest the rest of the time. It's too rare, we can't get used seeing her angry at us."

"Hmm... I agree."

There was a short moment of silence while you played, placing letters on the board too and counting your points.

"So... when is your flight?"

"Friday in two weeks."

"Alright, I'd better check if there's some room left for me too then."

"Harry... you really don't have to do that..."

"I said I'd be your plus one for the event, and I will. It's alright. I'll come to the whole thing. But know that if your father ends up beating the shit out of me, you'll be the one responsible! If you weren't a broke student, I'd make you pay for my hospital bills too, but I'm not that cruel. The weight of my suffering and broken bones on your conscience will have to be enough."

You laughed, and he soon joined you, enjoying the way your happy features made crinkles appear at the corner of your eyes.

"Poor chuckaboo..."

"Oi! Don't start with that, lambkin!"

"Why not? You've been teasing me with that stupid nickname since we were 12, I can tease you with your own too!"

"Actually, they're pet names, not nicknames. Terms of endearment."

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Dictionary."

"Well, I guess I should have the title, as I am properly kicking your pretty arse at scrabble right now, lambkin."

"Considering that my boxing skills are far superior to yours and that I could actually kick your pretty arse if I wanted to, I would tune the narcissist down a little bit, chuckaboo."

"You've always been a terrible loser."

"You're even worse than I am!"

"How could you know? I always win against you."

You threw a few letters at him in response, making him giggle in the most adorable way.

And as he struggled to calm down and stop his snickering, you reckoned that you truly were lucky to have a best friend like him.

And if he wanted to come with you to Scotland then... how could you say no? After all, you did need all the help you could get to survive this week with all your relatives.

After all, Harry would be there, pretending to be your boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

*********************************

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