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soaps-mohawk · 30 days

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise.

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes.

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom.

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine.

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past.

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface.

Even he can’t protect you from this.

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing.

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem.

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry.

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one.

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep.

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness.

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned.

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?”

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.”

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief.

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades.

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.”

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.”

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.”

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake.

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it.

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what.

You might never get to know.

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep.

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent.

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you.

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed.

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons.

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.”

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any.

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.”

You can only imagine how that went.

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously.

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door.

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own.

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.”

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between.

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..”

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you.

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do.

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does.

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”

“You're tired.”

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright.

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm.

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again?

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response.

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say.

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger.

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well.

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask.

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own.

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago.

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.”

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position.

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over.

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.”

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run.

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him.

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious.

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.”

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing?

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good.

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good?

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil.

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head.

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady.

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.”

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired.

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.”

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch.

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too.

All he's waiting on is you saying the word.

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something.

The thought makes you want to cry.

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump.

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?”

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book.

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being.

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face.

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal.

You need to rectify this, and fast.

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety.

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory.

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door.

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?”

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.”

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back.

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.”

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line.

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news.

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?”

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you.

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes.

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.”

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin.

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers.

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours.

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.”

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver.

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it.

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip.

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look.

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room.

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly.

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.”

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him.

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal.

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved.

Well, you suppose he is.

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much.

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you.

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh.

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg.

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt.

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric.

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him.

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?”

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?”

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you.

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely.

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread.

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you.

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans.

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets.

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.”

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation.

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you.

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips.

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage.

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you.

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position.

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk.

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers.

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth.

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin.

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday.

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.”

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs.

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand.

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm.

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips.

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other.

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length.

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his.

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.”

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position.

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck.

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat.

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life.

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.”

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again.

You’re in for a long night.

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse #john price x reader #captain price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gax x reader

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gyuswhore · 5 months

Text

Fifteen to Forever

"I can’t not be happy when I know I have you."

PAIRING: hockeyplayer!choi seungcheol x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: Fifteen was the age you had met Choi Seungcheol at a school hockey game. Forever was the age you would find yourself spending with him.

CONTAINS: fluff, angst, smut (MINORS DNI), growing up, tears (a lot), distance, this is so emotional you will be in your feels, kissing, p in v sex (unprotected), clit stimulation, handjobs, happy endings bc we love them, i think that's it

WORD COUNT: 6k

masterlist

[AN]: thank you so much @ressonancee for birthing the idea of hockey player cheol in the first place, reading over some of the bits and helping me w some of the plot!!! ty for letting me ramble in your dms lol. hockeyplayer!cheol WILL reappear in other fics bc I'm obsessed with the idea, for now, I hope you enjoy this angsty fluffy creation <33

It wasn’t until the last echo of the slammed car door had faded that you realized, yes, mom, I do actually want you to go in with me.

But alas, as the last tresses of exhaust from her car fade into nothingness, you accept that you’d have to do this alone. Gripping the straps of your brand new backpack helps you ground yourself as the increasingly erratic breathing takes over you. It sinks in now that you’re alone.

There’s a honk, and you realize you’re still frozen in the drop-off zone, the mom in the Subaru not appreciating the 7 AM delay to drop off her own high schooler. You wonder if her kid would let her drop them off inside.

Scurrying into the entrance of the open gates, you find the courtyard full. Huddles of teens laughing and yelling despite the early morning hour, not a spare square foot on the grass. You try to find someone who looks like an adult but fail, hoping you’ll be luckier once you’re inside the building.

You do find yourself lucky as you find a line of teachers at the entrance, ready to greet the new batch of freshmen on their first day of high school. There are a few other kids who look as tense as you, but you feel better with the way the administrator pats your shoulder as she hands you your schedule, assigning you to a lanky sophomore to show you around the building that’d become your second home for the next four years.

Jeonghan tells you his name as he leads you into your homeroom, where you deposit your bag before going back out. He’s peculiar, you decide. He tells you to never walk without looking at the floor on Monday mornings to save your shoes from the occasional start-of-the-week breakfast hurl. He tells you in the cafeteria that the lasagna was horrible, but not the sloppy joes; the sloppy joes were good. He tells you in the gym that the coach would let you off if you rubbed a little eyeliner under your eyes, “he’s an empath.”

By the time he’s listing off clubs and teams, you feel a little less nervous, pushing you back into your fuller homeroom with a sign-up sheet and a goodbye. You don’t get to say thank you.

Kwon Soonyoung slips into the empty seat next to you, introducing himself a little louder than you’d anticipated, but you suppose you needed the enthusiasm. He innocently slips you his home number and hopes out loud that you’d be the best of friends.

You get in the car that afternoon, responding with a wider-than-expected smile at your mother inquiring about your day.

“It was great! I think I’ll like it here.”

You found it strange that the rink was so packed for a high school hockey game, but that was before you saw the ten-foot banner and face paint. Soonyoung sits on your right as Jiwoo places herself on your left, both donned in blue and yellow, sandwiching your uncoordinated outfit. For whatever reason, you’d thought movies exaggerated the hype around high school sports, yet the support for the boys entering the rink roars into your ears to prove you wrong.

They win, and with the way the rest of the team pats him on the back after sending in the last puck, you assume it’s all thanks to the boy with the Choi on the back of his jersey.

He removes his helmet, hair flopping into his eyes as you realize you know him. He was always in the cafeteria with Jeonghan, the boy who gave you a tour on your first day, along with many other boys from his year. It was hard not to notice them with the ruckus they were always causing, yet you found them easy to drown out with the rest of the noise.

“What’s his first name? The guy with the 08 on his back?” you ask Soonyoung.

“Oh, that’s Seungcheol. Dude’s a fucking progidy or something.”

“Prodigy,” Jiwoo corrects.

“Yeah, that. Jihoon said the only reason they got to finals last year was ‘cause of this guy.”

You watch as he drinks from his bottle from the benches, smiling at his coach and teammates as they debriefed. At least you were guessing that was happening; the only thing you were thinking about was how you could hear his laugh from where you sat. And how it was making you smile, too.

You stare at your worn shoes that glow in multicolors as the beats in the gym warp and stagger through the speaker. You’re on your third punch, finding yourself awkward without something to occupy at least one hand.

You had danced a little with Jiwoo, watched with bright eyes as Soonyoung dance off-ed yet another senior to his victory, giggled as you let another freshman, Jun, take Jiwoo away for the next dance. You now lace the edges of the party, taking a breather as you down the remnants of your punch, already trailing the memorized path to the snack table. Maybe you’ll try some of the lemonade this time.

There’s already somebody occupying the lemonade cooler when you get there, back to you as you patiently wait for him to finish up. He moves away, leaning against the table. He takes a sip from his cup, and you move forward to fill your own.

It’s Seungcheol. You recall his name as you recognize his face. He somehow looks as haphazard as you last saw him from yesterday’s hockey game.

If he had come in with a tie, it’s long gone as he has his collar popped and shirt unbuttoned the first few steps. It doesn’t end there as you note the hair that dresses his eyes, soaked in what you cannot imagine is water with the way you saw someone with a similar build typhoon across the floor with nearly as much vigor as Soonyoung has had tonight.

He’s downing the cup in haste, and you take a sip of the slightly tart drink as you debate if you should say something.

“You did really well yesterday. Congrats,” you decide to say.

He emerges from his cup to acknowledge you sipping on your own lemonade, “Oh, thanks. Were you there?”

“Oh, yeah, I was. First hockey game, went with my friends,” you let out a little chuckle, not understanding why you suddenly felt so awkward.

“Cool,” he answers plainly, mouth glistening and posture stagnant. “You’re friends with Soonyoung, right? Seen him hang around Jihoon a lot.”

“Yeah, he’s — he’s friends with everybody,” you laugh a little, and you hear him laugh with you.

“How do you handle him? He’s giving a run for everybody’s money out there,” he gestures to the dance floor with a smile.

“He mellows out after a while; he’s just excited,” you say, understanding his bewilderment.

“How’re you finding high school so far?” he asks when he runs out of things to say, yet forgets that he can easily excuse himself. But he doesn’t.

“Pretty alright. I’m having fun so far.” You don’t need to ask him the same, knowing well that the sophomore was having the time of his life.

“Good to hear, hope it stays that way for you.”

It’s another painful five seconds before you see Jiwoo waving at you from afar, pointing at something Soonyoung is doing.

“Uh, I’ll see you around, my friend’s waving me over–”

“Oh, sure, uh, I’ll see you around.”

You give him one more tight-lipped smile as you wave from waist length before retreating.

“Wait!”

You turn around at his voice.

“I never got your name.”

Seungcheol took you on your first not-date in the spring.

Not-date because neither of you had labeled it as such, but you were pushed to reconsider when both Jiwoo and Soonyoung insisted.

He had brought his car that you slipped into after school to drive to the movies, where he bought you popcorn and paid for both of your tickets. He held your hand as you walked out of the theatre, wide-eyed and all smiles as you discussed the film you had just sat through for two hours.

His palm fit in yours like it belonged there, and maybe it was your fifteen-year-old brain talking. Still, you never expected to be this comfortable with him — especially after the possible insinuation your friends had instilled.

He drove you home that night as you searched for a million excuses to stay a little longer in his car as he parked in front of your door. But alas, you open the car door at the end of the night and are surprised to find him doing the same as he walks around to where you get out.

“I had a lot of fun today,” you say in your rehearsed line.

“Me too,” he smiles. “The weather’s getting nicer, we should see the cherry blossoms next weekend. If you wanted to. We can take the car again.”

He didn’t kiss you, at least not on the lips as he hugged you at your front door and pressed his lips to your cheek.

You were quick to squeak out your goodbyes after that happened, slamming your door shut as you vaguely heard him drive off.

With a hand to your racing heart, you count to ten. Perhaps you’d reconsider that not-date after all. Besides, you had cherry blossoms to look forward to.

Choi Seungcheol kissed you, really kissed you, when he brought the team to the cup they missed out on last year, throwing himself at you as soon as you appeared before him. He was sweaty, half-dressed in his gear with his skates still on as he embraced you tighter than anyone ever had before.

He put his lips on yours the second he saw your face as you pulled away, unable to help himself despite the groans and retches of his teammates, despite the fact that an entire bleacher’s worth of people saw you both.

Not that either of you cared; you were just happy he didn’t have his mouth guard on (and that he kissed you before you couldn’t help it yourself).

It was in your junior year and Seungcheol’s senior year that you began to hear the absurdities about the strength of your relationship, that you wouldn’t make it, that high school sweethearts never do.

With shaking hands, you grip your boyfriend’s arm as he has a conflicted look in his eye.

“No,” you say. You wonder where all of this strength was coming from when you all wanted was to cry. “You’re gonna go. You will go. I won’t let you throw all of this away because of something that’s never gonna waver.”

He’s silent as he refuses to meet your gaze. The voices were getting to him, his older college friends laughing when he suggested that his relationship would last both college and the distance it would bring. He realizes he’s not so sure anymore.

He sits cross-legged in front of you on your bedroom floor, mentally prepared to walk out for the last time.

“You’re supposed to be happiest about this; I don’t understand why you insist I leave. And so far away?” he looks slightly bewildered.

“Because you’ll regret it if you don’t. This isn’t about me, Cheol, it’s about everything you’ve worked for all these years—”

“Us, what about us? I’ve worked on us, too.”

“Why have you gone years without listening to a word what other people say to only listening to them now?”

“Was it just me, then? Because it feels like I’m the only one worried about our future together—”

“Choi Seungcheol, stop right there.” Your voice is brittle, and you don’t know how long you can keep the tears at bay.

“I…I don’t know what to think,” his shoulders slump even lower.

His hockey scholarship would take him so, so far away. He thought you were strong enough for this, but with every anecdote, every comment, every dejected “have it your way” to his resilience, he wonders if the both of you would be forced to fight a losing battle if he left.

There were sports universities here at home, but there was no you with his scholarship.

“I’ll tell you what to think. Will you listen to me?”

Slowly, but surely, he nods.

“You can get the scholarship you’ve always wanted, and we can stay as we are, although a little farther away.”

He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t.

“I believe in us. And if you don’t right now, I’m ready to believe for the both of us. We’ll get through this.”

In the end, Seungcheol believed you over everything the world told him, praying he wouldn’t let you or himself down as he laid with you on the last night he’d call his bedroom home.

Graduation was a happy endeavor, momentarily forgetting what lay ahead as he enjoyed his last hours with all his friends in one place. The heavy feeling returned as the night progressed, agreeing to spend the night with him, tucked under his covers as you listened to his heartbeat. You wonder how long it will be until you're able to do this again.

As you lay in his stripped bedroom, there’s little either of you say, an unspoken agreement to not sleep, not tonight. He has an early morning, but he doesn’t really seem to care as he continues to fiddle with your hair, kissing you at intervals like he's trying to bring back the feeling when it begins to fade.

There’s little you can talk about when you’re trying to memorize each other’s scent. You remind yourself to give him your sweater when morning comes, already noting the hoodie you need to remember to pick up, the lone one he left you in his closet.

But as the first rays of sun peeked through the blinds, sending stripes of sun into the bedroom, you tried not to feel the hard clench of your heart as the bare room came into sight. Despite the snoozing of alarms, the multiple knocks on his door, and the dawn of a new day, you let yourselves have an extra five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes.

Just you and him before it would be you, and it would be him.

Seungcheol called you more than you called him. It was everywhere, even if it was just to say a quick “I love you” before a game, to hear your voice before he went to class, to listen to you complain about an assignment before he had to do his own.

As resilient as you showed yourself to be, you’d be lying if you said there was a part of you that was afraid of how much faith Seunghceol held for the both of you, but at ease you were with the constant bugging he’d do and the bugging he seemed to appreciate back.

By Christmastime, he’d texted you his itinerary for the holidays, explaining how he couldn’t spare a second to things like thinking. Most of his list involved spending all day rotting indoors with you.

As much as Seungcheol had hoped you’d pick a college nearer to him, he was less scared when you finally announced your college decisions close to graduation. The past year had proved a lot, mostly that you both were stronger than the distance. Which is why he was the first to congratulate you when you got into the college of your choice, despite the fact that you’d be even farther away, leaving home in what felt like the opposite direction to him.

You were scared too, mostly of how Seungcheol would react, but seeing the smile break out on his face when you told him gave you all the reassurance you needed. That summer brought you the best memories of your teenage years, with Seungcheol, preparing for you both to leave. Except this time, the air was less tense, fewer tears shed, fewer solemn goodbyes at airport gates, and less desperation in both of your hearts. A surety that you’d come back to each other.

Seungcheol was offered a contract with his dream hockey team when you were on the cusp of your final year. He told you nearly two weeks after he received the first email, not believing it until he was pestered to do so by the representative.

You cried on the phone that night, the ache in your chest unbelievably present as you wished you could hug him at that moment. He denied his own tears, but you knew his glassier-than-normal eyes weren’t just through the camera lens. You told him you were proud, you told him this was only the beginning, that you needed to sit in the bleachers with his jersey on for every game he’ll ever play, that he was about to have an entire career to be proud of soon.

He let a couple tears slip.

And when he showed up to your graduation, sitting next to your family, you gave him the biggest hug you could muster from your bones. That year may have been the last you’d have to endure apart, but it was somehow the hardest.

It was in that moment, when you pulled away to look at his smiling face, that the years registered in your mind.

You’re fifteen again, seeing Seungcheol for the first time, donning the features he hadn’t grown into yet, the features you hadn’t grown into yet. You have to tiptoe to meet his lips now, see a man where there was once a boy, the deep set of maturity behind his pretty eyes.

When he drops the last of your boxes into his — your shared apartment, you’re brought to the stark realization that you're going to stay here.

It’s when you’re unpacking your toothbrush, placing it in the cup right next to his that you realize you could do whatever you wanted with each other without having to work around flight schedules. It’s when he’s hobbling around wooden planks and screws in the bedroom, putting together the brand new queen-sized bed to replace his too-small twin, that you realize that you weren’t here for the week, or for the month or for any set amount of time; you were here forever.

At least that’s what you hope as you watch him collapse the last of the cardboard boxes to recycle, shoving in the corner of the entryway, leaving that job for tomorrow.

By the time you emerge in the living room after a shower, Seungcheol has already begun to unpack the delivery food on the coffee table. It’s an array of delicious smells, slightly soggy food, and mounds of styrofoam and plastic wrap; a feast for your tired, tired bodies.

The dumplings are amazing, and the warm feeling in your chest expands as you realize you can now order them whenever you like.

Seungcheol picks out the chopped chilies from his food, migrating them onto your own plate as he talks about his next practice session without interruption.

A thought occurs to you in that moment as you watch him down his cola. “Hasn’t coach put you on a diet plan?”

“Yeah,” he says normally. You merely stare at him, not understanding how any of this junk could be any good for his form, especially when you know he’s good about abstaining when it comes to training.

He smiles at the questioning look on your face, setting down his utensils, “It’s our first meal, in our first home. I think we deserve to share this with each other.”

A smile breaks out on your face at the thought of this being your first meal, the first of many meals together in this home. Of all the meals you’ll share in every home after this, every day.

And while Seungcheol finds himself sacrificing his diet to enjoy all of this greasy grub with you, you will also find yourself occasionally sharing his awfully bland chicken breasts and salads. All to share with each other.

Walking into the bustling restaurant in your uncomfortable shoes and your arm around Seungcheol’s, you’re quick to find the group you’re looking for.

The noise is a dead giveaway, and you quickly realize they haven’t changed.

You hear Soonyoung before you see him, his distinct laugh echoing the loudest across the sea of mingling heads. A loud banner hangs at the end of the room with your high school grad year.

You detach from Seungcheol as he finds his junior friends, and you find yours, taking both Soonyoung and Jiwoo into a bone-crushing hug. It’s been a while since you last saw them. The crowd of familiar faces greets you, making small talk with everyone as they introduce you to their partners and even their children. You’ve grown; all of you have.

“Seungcheol’s here too. You guys were together in high school, right?” somebody asks you at some point during the night. “He graduated before us, though; wonder who he’s here with.”

You don’t blame them for assuming, considering both of you have been in your own circles all night. That, added to the obvious assumptions of high school sweethearts, you only laugh a little as you reply with a wider-than-usual smile.

“Oh, he’s here with me,”

You go home with a permanent smile stuck to your face, talking more animatedly than usual in the car ride home. Seuncheol mirrors your smile as he listens.

Your good mood prevails for the rest of the night, even as you slip under the covers, ready to end the night on a happier-than-usual note. Seungcheol is reading his book when you crawl under his arm, head on his chest, and your arm slung across his torso. You feel his lips on the top of your head, the faint sound of his book being placed on the bedside table.

“What’s got you so smiley?” he asks with one of his own.

You shake your head as you reply, “Nothing. I’m just happy I saw Soonyoung and Jiwoo.”

“I’m glad you saw them too. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You hum in response, suddenly remembering a conversation you had. “You know, Jess asked me who you were there with.”

“Figures,” he shrugs before laughing a little.“How much did she hesitate before asking you?”

“Looked like she was holding it in for a little bit. Don’t blame her, though. She probably thought we ended it in epic teenage fashion.”

He snorts at that, “Probably would’ve if you didn’t talk some sense into me.”

“Probably would’ve if you didn’t trust me like you did,” you crane your neck to look at him.

“Glad I wasn’t that far gone,” he whispers, a faraway look in his eyes despite looking directly at you. “Haven’t doubted us ever since.”

There’s that warm feeling that spreads throughout your body, an overwhelming feeling of contentment coming over you. There was nothing, nothing, that could convince you to be anywhere else, especially anywhere that wasn’t in his arms.

“Sometimes…well, a lot of the times, I think about us,” you start. “I thought us hitting six months was enough to tell me I’d be with you forever.”

He smiles at the thought of high school you, starry-eyed, awkward little kids. He remembers the way you blushed when he kissed you for the first time in front of the whole school, the heat that had risen to his own face at the time.

“And then we hit a year, and then two years,” you remember every surprise for every anniversary, from when you’d collect your allowance for weeks to get him something he’d like.

“And then college happened. I tried being so positive, but I had never been more scared for us. I hope we never have to go through something that hard ever again.” You almost sound like a child not wanting to go to the doctor’s office, but with the way you feel yourself tighten your grip around him, you don’t think it’s any different.

You can feel your eyes begin to well, and your voice begins to shake. It was nearly comical how quickly the smiles were turning into sentimental tears.

Seungcheol places a kiss on your lips, and you know it was meant to be reassuring, but it only wrenches open the floodgates. The tears begin to make their way down your face, sniffles muffled as you go back to burying your face in his chest, his shirt soaking the wetness. You can feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs at your state. He’s also squeezing up your sides and placing kisses in any place he can reach.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you murmur into his shirt.

“It’s okay. Today was very reflective,” he reassures, letting you stay hidden.

“I just—” you sniff. “I just wanna stay happy like this all the time.”

It’s only then that he guides your stained face away from his shirt to bring you to look at him, wiping the remnants of your tears as you try to keep the fresh ones at bay. “We’ll be happy, even when we’re sad. I can’t not be happy when I know I have you. I love you too much for that.”

“I love you,” you whisper into his lips, arms around his neck as you pull yourself to him, chest to chest. You kiss him properly, pecking him a few times to have your fill.

And then he’s pulling away, ever so slightly to bring a bare millimeter of gap between your lips. His hands burn where they rest, one on your waist, one on your thigh. He’s breathing hard. Both of you are.

“I’m gonna say something so not fit for right now,” he breathes.

You can’t help but freeze in his hold as you register his words, hesitating before you ask. “What?”

“Marry me.”

It comes out as the same whisper, directly into your lips as he utters the words. Like he was keeping a secret from the walls and the furniture, like they were only meant for you; because they were only meant for you. Your heart stops, and you vaguely wonder if you’re breathing at all.

“I—” he takes a long, shaky breath from his nose. “I was supposed to do this a little differently, but…”

You watch him reach over into his bedside drawer, the one you never touch, and bring out the smallest velvet box. Opening it reveals the prettiest, most delicate diamond you’ve ever seen, the jewel glinting and sparkling even in the dim bedroom lights.

That’s when you let out a tiny gasp, feeling the tears return, dripping down your face one after the other. “Choi Seuncheol, you bitch.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and it has him sitting up straighter, leaving the box to the side as he lurches for you when you pull away.

“Wait, fuck, sorry, I thought,” he exhales in frustration, hands trying to pull yours away from your face as you cry into your hands. He sounds desperate. “I got carried away, I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“No, it’s not that,” you finally manage through hiccups.

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, I’m just fucking emotional.”

You hear him laugh again, no doubt out of pure relief, as he nearly doubles over at the situation.

You’re a little calmer as you continue to sniffle, watching him with a half-disgruntled, half-amused expression, “Put it on, stupid, or do I need to cry again for you to do that.”

You don’t need to tell him twice as he slips the ring on your finger, the perfect fit, the perfect jewel, the perfect ring.

Bringing him closer, you kiss him again, lips pressed hard on his as you try to communicate every last emotion into it. You’re out of words, and you hope he knows what you're feeling. You know he knows; he always knows.

He’s reciprocating with the same vigor, arms coming up to wrap around you so tight it pushes you flush against his body. He nips at your lip, running his tongue over it for good measure before letting it enter your mouth. You let him take the lead, let him guide you through every motion, every step forward.

You’re putty when he pulls off your clothes for you, feeling your heart scream in protest whenever he pulls away to get rid of the obstructions. Your emotions were in a delicate place, and you suddenly couldn’t handle not being able to feel him against you consistently.

He does well to make it quick, moving back on top of you to occupy your mouth once more. He tries to migrate lower, latching onto your neck to continue his ministrations there, but you don’t let him as you pull his face back to yours again.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth before latching onto his lips.

He lets out a low grunt, pulling away for breath as he whispers it back, “I love you more.”

If you won’t let his mouth move, you let his hands do whatever they wish, feeling them move lower against your sides to reach your hips. His thumbs draw circles on them as he slowly moves his hands to where you can feel the arousal grow.

His fingers hit your bare heat as he plunges them into your folds, encasing your clit between his fingers. He drags them up slowly before moving back down, all the way to your now sopping hole to brush against the opening.

You sigh against his lips as he pushes his finger in slowly, lips releasing yours as you throw your head back to feel his digit around your walls. He pushes a second one in without hesitation, and you know he’s just as desperate as you right now.

He’s only two fingers deep, and yet you feel yourself beginning to come undone. He always knew what to do when he wanted to stretch you out faster, always knew what to do when he wanted to draw the pleasure out, keep you writhing for hours.

Right now was different; it felt like he was holding himself back to the point where it was almost painful. If he wasn’t worried about the stretch, he would’ve buried himself inside you already, and yet, when he feels you clench undeniably hard around his fingers as you orgasm, he feels like he might’ve cum himself.

His low moans echo off the walls with your louder, more desperate ones, riding out your high as you feel him bring his other hand up to rub your clit in fast circles, making the pleasure last. Coming down from your high, you feel him pause for a moment as he peppers kisses on your face, down your jaw and neck, finally coming to press his lips against yours.

“You okay?”

You nod in response, already grasping at his boxers to yank them down. Despite having just orgasmed, the satisfaction is yet to come, needing to feel him inside you before you combusted entirely.

He helps as he discards himself of the final obstruction, letting you stroke his painfully hard member in your hands. The face he makes is heavenly as you watch him feel your hands wrapped around him. The impatience takes over as he finally removes your hands, instead pinning them beside your head as he guides himself to your entrance.

Seungcheol goes back to planting himself onto you entirely, knowing exactly what you wanted from him, needing to feel him against you so flush and tight. He lets you wrap your hands around his neck as he finally begins to push himself into you, letting his tip graze the beginning of your entrance.

He breathes into your neck in deep, deep exhales, trying so hard not to cum before he’s even entered you entirely. He takes his time pushing into you, focusing on your fingers as they play with his hair, your palms running down his shoulder blades in a pathway. He closes his eyes as he sheaths himself in you completely, continuing his steady breaths to not come undone before you.

He begins to move when he feels like he’s gotten a hold of his bearings, feeling you hold onto him as he starts thrusting into your cunt. The sounds you make are bliss; the feeling of every inch of your skin on his is making him lose his already lost mind.

Your arms drop when they can’t hold onto him any longer, your hands remaining on him regardless, in some way or the other. Seungcheol takes hold of your hand, emerging from the crook of your neck to bring it to his mouth. He kisses it, your palms, the back of your hand, your fingers, directly over the rock he slipped on you himself.

The tenderness of his actions makes your brain rattle against your skull, the building feeling in your abdomen coming so close to collapsing into release. You find yourself pushing yourself up on your elbows, face finding the crook of his shoulder as you push yourself back into him when pulled back in the slightest.

You’re so close now, so, so close. “Cheol,”

“I know, darling. Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

You release to the sound of his voice, the words that tumble from his desperate mouth, the feeling of his own cum shooting inside your spent walls. He continues to thrust into you as you both let out the loudest moans of the night, letting yourself get wrapped up in the feeling of each other before you lose your peak.

You register nothing as you feel him drop his weight on top of you, letting the moment pass.

Despite having had nights rougher, more lengthy than this, you somehow feel more spent than you have at the end of any of those escapades. The answer comes to you in the few minutes it takes for you both to catch your breath, Cheol being just as fatigued as you despite his athlete stamina.

You feel him continue to press his lips onto your skin, letting you do the same to him in between kisses. Neither of you speak for another few minutes, letting the heaviness of your hearts come forth in the showers of love you seem to want to give each other.

He’s grasping your left hand, toying with the ring fitted there. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

A picture of the both of you hangs on the wall in your bedroom, dim yet decipherable in the low lights. There’s a moment where you have a flash of that same photo on multiple different walls. Different shades of neutral, in different rooms in different houses. It’s the same picture.

You think of what forever might hold for the both of you, separately and together. You let the prospect of every step, every change, and every milestone wash over you in waves that keep coming, crashing back to feed into another.

Change, you rehearse. There had been lots of it, and yet you had merely scratched the surface of what life was about to throw at you. You knew that, Seungcheol knew that. But you found yourself, in that moment, convinced in entirety that change is good, whether it feels good or bad.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder; you didn't realize the meaning of the phrase until you had to live apart from the love of your life. Painful, difficult, sometimes agonizing, yet also necessary, you conclude. You wonder if your love would ever have grown this deep if you hadn’t felt life without each other.

You think of how far you’ve come, how you’ve grown with each other. There was an encompassing of gratefulness that came with every step you had taken, and with every step you would take henceforth, you knew that for certain.

Perhaps you would find yourself voicing these emotional thoughts to him, but not now. The unspoken was louder than anything you could say.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you, too.”

taglist (strikthru could not be tagged): @rubyreduji @vampirexlotita @simqly-yunjin @tomodachiii

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seungcheol fluff #seuncheol smut #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #seungchel angst #scoups #svt #svt smut #em.writes

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distantdarlings · 1 month

Text

SUPPORT SYSTEM // Slytherin Boys

RATING: PG-13 / 2.2K WORDS

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* When a few Gryffindors start spreading rumors that the Slytherin boys only hang around you because they’re sharing you, you’re hesitant to share this information with them. (Slight Angst, Comedy?)

+ WARNINGS - Language, some sexual discussion (very small amount), bullying, secrets, implied fight, not proof-read (lmk if I’ve missed anything)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Sarah - Alex G

- - -

As soon as your eyes opened that morning, you found yourself regretting even waking up. The memories of yesterday were flooding back and hitting you like a giant tidal wave, so visceral you could almost taste the salted water.

You ran a hand over your eyes, rubbing the sleep from them, and dreading the day. Despite the superior support system you had holding you up, you found yourself in a dilemma. The wonderful people you called your closest friends were what was plaguing you.

With each inhale, a flash of one of their faces would zip in front of you, deepening the nausea building in your stomach. You sigh. You couldn’t miss anymore classes, but you felt as though leaving your bed would surely breed a recipe for disaster.

Between the relentless teasing, the names you’d been called, and everything else that had been going on this week, you felt close to giving up. The only thing that had kept you powered in even the slightest way were your friends.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. A few teasing laughs broke through the thick wooden door as you swallowed the misery rising up your throat. It wouldn’t surprise you if your harrassers had decided to come knocking at your door, bringing their sneers and cruel words with them. You perked up your voice to tell the usurpers to go away when you heard a familiar shout.

The voice was lowered and joking, letting your name fall from his mouth like it was an everyday thing—which it was. You jumped up and tossed the comforter away from your body. You across the cold dorm floor and flung the heavy wooden door open.

On the other side stood three dark boys, all with varying smiles and warm eyes. Hot relief flooded your body as you let yourself fall into them.

Theo Nott stood dead center and caught your flailed body like a Quaffle. You wrapped your arms tightly around his lean body, missing the way he felt and the way he smelled. You could’ve melted into his body and lived there for the rest of your days if necessary.

To his right was Enzo Berkshire, the devilishly handsome and wickedly funny boy you called one of your best friends. He laughed aloud and tossed an arm around you as well, squeezing you between their bodies. You groaned slightly and the pressure. You turned your head.

“Come on, Matty, don’t you want to join us?” you mumbled, your cheeks squished between the two boys on either side of you.

The last boy stood back a bit, watching you amusedly. Mattheo Riddle chuckled a bit before placing a large hand over your head and mussing your hair a bit.

“I’m good, kid, but I’m grateful you’re feeling better,” he said, his voice genuine. You’d always hated when he called you ‘kid,’ as he was only a few months older than you. But, right now, you were more than happy to hear him say it.

With laughing exclamations, they all asked what you were doing and how you’ve been and if you felt any better. Amongst the constant picking you were getting from some of your classmates, you’d taken a couple days away from class and the boys because you were ‘sick.’ With white lies peppered in here and there, you explained that you were feeling much better now that they were here and that you were pretty sure you’d had some kind of stomach bug. It wasn’t totally a lie as you’d felt nauseated all weekend thinking about going back to class.

“Ready to go back to class?” Enzo asked, finally pulling away from you and allowing you a breath. Your stomach twisted at his words.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. “I guess I am.” Theo and Enzo smiled in response, but Mattheo gave you an odd look, raising one of his eyebrows suspiciously. You shook your head at him.

For the last month, a couple of your classmates had been mentioning things in passing to people around the school. A few of your other acquaintances, outside of the boys, had informed you of the rumors being spread. Awful things, mostly about the boys. Things you’d never even considered to be a possibility.

Luna, a friend of yours from Herbology, mentioned that some Gryffindor had spoken to a couple of her friends about you in Potions. The Gryffindor had said that you were only friends with the boys because you were interested in their money and status, and that the boys only kept you around because you were easy. That last part had made your stomach broil.

You had never, ever even wanted anything more than what you currently had with the boys. They were your best friends—almost like brothers—and there was nothing more you craved from them. Being away from them for multiple days at a time felt like you were separated from family members, not lovers. And you had never so much as mentioned their money—in fact, you refused to let them pay for dinner the majority of times. You hated when people paid for your things.

Needless to say, the words had hurt you deeply, and you’d begun to wonder how many other people thought these things about you.

You wondered that until you overhead someone talking about you in a class last week. Little whispers had been passing around behind you the entirety of the class anyway, but when you’d heard your name, you’d whipped around to see who had said it. And lo and behold, there sat the Gryffindor girl with her group of friends. Only, this time there were others leaning in and listening. Fellow Slytherins, no less.

“Are you talking about me?” you’d asked, your eyebrows furrowing in hurt and anger. Nervous eyes had glanced back and forth and all around until the Gryffindor girl—Nancy McLaggen, you’d learned was her name—spoke up with a cruel smirk on her lips.

“We were just wondering if a couple rumors were true,” she’d said, faux innocence painted on her face.

“Rumors about me? What rumors?”

“Well, we all had heard from someone in Ravenclaw that you’re being passed around the Slytherin boys.”

You had nearly choked on your spit. Nancy refused to wipe the smirk off her face, and the people around you had begun to listen in as well. Expressions of shock and amusement were scattered throughout the classroom, and you couldn’t handle it anymore. You’d swiped your books together and excused yourself from the class, ignoring your teacher’s shouts to explain yourself.

And those were the events that had led you to where you currently were—miserable and pretending to be sick to avoid your peers. It was pathetic, but you couldn’t help it. You hadn’t been able to defend yourself in class last week and you were worried you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself if it happened again.

And there was no way in hell you were telling the boys about this. There would be no hesitation from any of them to defend you, but that was exactly what you were worried about. If they tried to help you, it would only worsen your current condition. Everyone in school would see the action as them protecting their little sex toy.

Merlin, you were so embarrassed and hurt, you couldn’t stand it. You felt nauseated again.

“Actually, boys,” you started, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I’m still feeling a little sick. I might wait until next week.”

“Next week?” Theo exclaimed. “How sick are you? Are you sure you don’t need to go to the infirmary?”

“No, I’m fine,” you sigh. “You go ahead—”

“No, we’re not going anywhere!” Enzo suddenly interrupted, stepping in front of Theo. You were a bit taken aback by the sudden spike in volume.

“En, I’m fine—”

“No, there’s something very wrong, and you’re not sick.”

“Guys, please just—”

“I agree with Enzo,” Theo interrupted. You glanced desperately at Mattheo, hoping someone would stand on your side.

“Something’s up,” he shrugged. “You don’t even look sick, kid.” You rolled your eyes. That annoyance was back.

“I said I was fine, why can’t you guys believe me?” you asked, sighing at their resilience. You wanted nothing more than to be alone.

“Because we’ve known you since you were eleven, just like you’ve known us,” Theo said. “Would you just let us be if one of us was acting the way you are?”

His words gave you pause. He made a very fair point. If any of the boys standing before you was behaving as you were, you’d be concerned. You felt a bit of guilt in becoming so angry with their protectiveness. They just wanted to help—just as they always did.

“Please tell us what’s wrong,” said Enzo. You tear your eyes from theirs, finding the lines of tile in the floor.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore their pressing stares, you couldn’t. You knew you needed to talk to someone—especially one of them. If they found out through someone else, who knew what they’d do. You pressed a frustrated hand to your forehead. The pure shame you felt from having to tell them what you’d been hearing the last week felt almost synonymous with running through the halls of the castle naked.

“Okay,” you sighed in defeat. “Last week, Someone started passing some rumors around the school—rumors about me.”

The boys seemed to glance between each other a few times before resuming immediate interest in your words.

“I know that there were a few girls from Gryffindor involved; Luna was the one to tell me about them…” you paused for a moment, gathering what little pride you had left. “They’ve been telling everyone that you guys have been…passing me around.”

With the last few words, you heaved a sigh of both relief and defeat and lowered your head farther into yourself. You felt nauseated and wished you could disappear.

In a breath of time, Mattheo’s knuckles clenched painfully loud as he turned on his heel and slammed the dorm door open.

“Mattheo, no—” you started to shout, tossing yourself toward the door. Theo and Enzo caught you against them, blocking your path.

“Guys, stop! Let me go!”

“You couldn’t have expected us to hear that and be totally fine, could you?” Theo smirked, pressing a small kiss to your cheek. You groaned and shoved away from them, backing farther into your room.

“It doesn’t matter,” you shrugged. “I didn’t tell any of you who I was talking about.”

“You said it was some Gryffindors, right?” Enzo asked.

“Yes, but do you have any idea how many Gryffindors are in this castle?”

“Enough.” Theo grinned wildly, his lips spreading evilly. The two boys crossed their arms and stood resolutely in front of the door.

“He’ll never figure out who it was,” you taunted, crossing your arms. Then just below the three of you, you heard a sharp shout of rough consonants.

“WHO THE FUCK WAS TALKING ABOUT HER?”

At the sound of Mattheo’s tone, the two boys exchanged an excited glance and quickly pushed themselves through the door. As they unblocked your path, you sped toward the door.

Just as you reached the gaping threshold, they slammed the door shut right in your face. You pressed your body against the door, beating your hands on the solid wood.

“THEODORE NOTT, LORENZO BERKSHIRE, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!” you shrieked over their mocking laughter on the other side.

Something heavy clunked against the door and acted as their replacement as their chuckling voices disappeared down the hall.

No matter how hard you banged on the door’s solid wood, you realized you were never getting out of this unless—

You gasped and backed away from the door. Your wand. You could blast the door to pieces and repair it later.

With a successful smirk on your lips, you ran over to your bedside table and reached for the thin piece of material.

And just as your fingers curled around the wand, you heard a distant shout of “Accio!” Then your wand was flying out of your hand and zipping towards, then under the door.

You shrieked in anger before collapsing against your bed. You couldn’t believe that was going to go any other way, considering how well you knew the boys. It was well out of your hands now.

“You’ll thank us later, darling,” Enzo’s laughing voice was heard distantly through the stone walls. It took only a second for it to be drowned out by your frustrated groans and Theo’s taunting against some unknown assailant. You just hoped they wouldn’t hurt any of those students too badly…sort of.

Tag List: @lilymurphy03, @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @Yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33, @xxrougefangxx, @thatblackthorn, @robinyx, @jolly4holly, @blvebanisters, @chgrch

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #theodore nott #theo nott #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle

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luveline · 14 days

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May I pretty please request an emergency medicine doctor!reader x Hotch blurb? I’d love to see both of them in careers that are difficult, yet despite that they still manage to be together because they understand each other so much. Maybe something with the rest of the team as well if it’s possible 🫶🏼🥹

Emily used to think Hotch would never be happy again. She’d drive him home after work, pick him up in the mornings, and she’d think about how miserable he was, the kind of misery that hooks you in its grip, has you turning to wine or whiskey just to keep breathing.

She thought for sure he’d buckle. When Hayley died, he’d have to. How could you not? But he kept going and proved she should’ve had more faith in him, becoming the father Jack deserves, and, surprisingly, your partner.

“You’re squeezing me too tight,” you mumble, just loud enough for Emily and the others to hear you where Hotch hugs you a few feet from the dinner table. “Why are you trying to break my back?”

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks.”

“Eighteen days is not three weeks.”

“It might as well be.” Hotch peels away from you to give you a once over. Emily’s half jealousy and half fondness, seeing him love someone so obviously. “Are you hungry? I ordered for you.”

“Super hungry. Do I smell like antiseptic?”

“No, just soap.”

“Well, that’s not much better.”

Hotch puts his arm behind your back and guides you to the table. The team squeeze out hellos between mouthfuls and you take your place at Hotch’s side behind a steaming plate. You’re as ravenous as the rest of them after your long shift; Morgan can hardly get a word out of you for the first ten minutes, though he tries, and you attempt to be polite. Emily nudges him until he gets the hint to stop.

“Here,” Hotch says, putting a heaping of his food onto your plate with a large spoon.

“Stop.” You attack his spoon with a fork.

“It’s fine, you like it more than I do.”

“Don’t care. You need your energy. I’m going to make you carry me up the stairs home.”

He’s unintimidated. “Ah.”

“Ah,” you echo. “You sound so doubtful.”

Hotch looks like he might try to keep flirting with you, but he gives in quickly, betraying how much he’s missed you with a hand slipping under the table. Emily sees his fingers curl over your knee, averting her gaze with a feigned sip of coke.

She can deduce the silent question you ask one another about anyways.

“We’ll have dessert,” you say. We won’t skip out early. “What are you having, Dr. Reid?”

Hotch orders you three different things, which you eat fast.

“They’re not feeding you at the hospital?” Rossi asks.

“Three emergency transfers in twelve hours,” you explain, slouching now into Hotch’s side, one slow inch at a time. “I didn’t have time for much.”

“That’s not healthy,” Hotch murmurs in concern.

“I’m sure I can ask any of your friends about your eating habits and find a similar schedule,” you brush him off, raising your gaze to Emily, then Morgan, then Rossi and Reid. Everyone smiles the same way. Hotch is caught, and his laugh jostles your shoulder.

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘do as I say, and not as I do?’” he asks.

God, Emily thinks with a huff of a laugh she can’t contain, get a room.

“He likes that one,” Spencer says.

“I don’t doubt it.” You lift your lips to his jaw and press a peck to the line of it. One, then two. “Maybe that’s why we've lasted as long as we have. Mutual disregard for our wellbeing.”

“And a great deal of care for each other,” Rossi says, nodding sagely. “This is why my marriages never last.”

“Is that why?” Spencer asks.

“You’ve gotten to be quite the lark.”

“Lark,” Hotch whispers to you. Emily, sitting at his other side, might be the only one who hears, the others distracted by Spencer and Rossi’s ensuing squabble.

“Scoundrel,” you agree.

“How’s your head now?”

“It’s gonna be a hundred percent better if you give me that,” you say, pointing hopefully at his full drink.

He doesn’t hesitate to press it into your hand. Emily would never suspect you hadn’t seen one another for weeks; you move and he follows. You rub your cheek against his shoulder. He touches his nose to your hair, his eyes shuttering closed for one stolen, blissful second. “Missed you,” he says under his breath.

Emily looks away with a smile. Hotch isn’t hopelessly miserable anymore.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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bleedingoptimism · 5 months

Text

It’s a little after eleven when Eddie finally manages to get Tarja to bed. It’s hard for her without her plushie. And really, Eddie is very thankful having a hyper-fixation with her toy seems to be the only ‘consequence’ of having divorced parents Tarja seems to have right now. He always worries if having two homes and constantly moving between them is good for her or not. Especially with Tommy being Tarja’s other dad, but against all odds, he’s good to her. So their kid is doing just fine. She’s happy. And if she’s happy, Eddie is happy.

He’s getting ready to open a beer and relax when there’s a knock on the door. He smiles, assuming is Steve bringing Toothless over and almost knocks his beer to the floor when he opens the door.

Steve looks… well he looks amazing, dressed to the nines. Must’ve been date night. But his eyes are red and puffy, his face covered in dark blotches, and his lips are swollen like he’s been biting them too much.

He’s hugging Toothless to his chest and he smiles at Eddie when he sees him, but he looks so sad it breaks his heart.

Eddie throws the beer behind him, sure it will land on the couch and cradles Steve’s face between his hands, “What did that asshole do?

Steve leans into his touch and shuts his eyes for a moment before sighing and stepping away from him, walking inside and sitting on the couch still holding Toothless like a lifeline.

“Nothing, he was just-” Steve shakes his head and chuckles darkly, “He’s just so mean,”

Eddie drops to his knees in front of him and dips his head to look Steve in the eye just like he did that day in the park.

“Break up with him,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Tommy doesn't deserve you, Steve. You are worth so much more than what that asshole makes you feel. You deserve better. More. Everything,” Eddie pleads, placing his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing, “If it’s because of Tarja, we’ll figure something out, ok? Lots of people keep in contact with their parent’s significant other after they break up” He rushes, the speech he didn't have quite prepared last week coming out of him in a single breath, “We are friends, right? So you can still visit and see her. Visit me. You don’t have to stop being a part of our lives.”

Steve is staring at him right now like Eddie just gifted him the moon and he’s so beautiful it’s kind of hard for Eddie to keep eye contact, but he squeezes Steve’s knees again to ground himself and does. Steve needs to know he’s very serious about this. About him.

Eyes shining, Steve takes a deep breath and nods slowly, a tear falling down his cheek that Eddie follows with his eyes and watches until it hides under Steve’s v-neck shirt.

“Hey, even I didn’t put up with Tommy's shit for Tarja’s sake and I birthed her,” he jokes awkwardly, trying to make him laugh and feels like doing a little victory dance when Steve snorts cutely,

“Okay,” he hiccups.

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles back at him, relieved.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “Fuck Tommy.” And drops back on the couch, looking exhausted, “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks in a whisper, like he’s afraid Eddie will say no. As if.

“Yeah, of course,” Is what he answers, and has half a mind to invite him into his bed but knows it’s a terrible idea. So he lends Steve his favorite flannel pajamas and sets blankets and a pillow on the couch and they say their goodnights.

And if he does a little dance when he closes the door to his room, no one is there to see.

In the morning, Steve stays for breakfast. And attempts to kill Eddie by making his heart explode, cooking it himself from scratch with Tarja’s help, who is so happy she won’t stop running around the kitchen making Toothless fly and sing about ‘happy family breakfast time’.

It’s actually hard to tell if she’s happier to have her plushie back or that Steve is there. Eddie, on the other hand, knows exactly what he’s happiest about. Death by tenderness. Is that a thing? He amuses himself thinking about a couple csi’s with sunglasses saying it,

“He died because he witnessed something too cute,”

“Ah yes, death by fondness. I’ve seen it before.”

After, Eddie walks him to the door and Steve smiles sweetly at him, and holds his hand, squeezing it once before letting go, “Well, see you. I guess,” he says bashfully and there’s a moment there, a second where time stops and Eddie thinks he should kiss him. Wants to kiss him, needs to kiss him.

But he doesn’t. Because Steve is still dating Tommy, and just because he said he was going to break up with him doesn’t mean he wants to start something new with Eddie.

Eddie himself called him his friend for the first time last night for christ sake. ‘Fucking chill’ he thinks to himself.

🧸

And then a week goes by without hearing a word from Steve. But Eddie doesn't hold it against him.

At first, he figures he needs time to think but then he starts to wonder if he really is going to break up with Tommy. Four days in, he gets paranoid about it. Maybe Steve got brainwashed into thinking Eddie is bad for him. Maybe Tommy told him Eddie was putting ideas in his head, that he shouldn’t talk to him anymore… With him telling Steve to break up with his boyfriend and all...

He’s well aware of how manipulative Tommy can be and has seen the way he belittles Steve to keep him around, so he knows it’ll be hard for Steve to actually go through with it.

And he can’t exactly show up at Tommy’s and steal Steve away, no matter how appealing the idea might be. The only thing he can do is just think of Steve, wish him well, and send him strength to do what he needs to do. At the end of the day, it needs to be his decision. His choice.

As Tommy’s week with Tarja approaches he starts getting more and more anxious, wondering if it’ll be Steve or Tommy who picks her up.

When the day finally arrives, and the doorbell rings, Tarja runs to open the door and Eddie peeks his head through the hallway.

“Daddy!” Tarja screams.

“Hey, Tata! You ready?” Tommy says and Eddie steps into the hall to greet him too.

“Not yet!” Tarja chuckles and Tommy smiles at her,

“Okay, go get ready. I’ll wait here,”

Eddie walks to the door and leans on the doorframe, “Hey,”

“Hi. Long time no see,” Tommy says and then adds, “You look great,”

“You don’t,” Eddie answers, because it’s true. He looks like shit. Greasy hair, bags under his eyes, chapped lips, wrinkles on his clothes, “What happened?”

“Steve broke up with me.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he smiles, he doesn’t even try to hide it, “He did?”

“Don’t smile, fucker,” Tommy says but there’s no heat behind it. He knows he deserves it.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, not sorry at all.

“Stop,” Tommy whines because Eddie’s smile is actually getting bigger,

“Sorry,” he repeats and then clears his throat, “Did he tell you why?”

“Because I’m a horrible person,” Tommy groans.

“Hey, the first step is to ad-”

“To admit it, yeah, yeah. I know” Tommy interrupts him, groaning again.

Eddie sighs, and punches Tommy’s shoulder lightly, “Look, Tommy, I’m just going to say this because, well… you are pathetic. You need to do better.” And then he points to his back, to where Tarja’s disappeared to get her stuff, “She’s going to grow up and realize you are an awful person and she’s not going to want you in her life. And I’m not going to dissuade her from it, because I already don’t want you to be in mine, you know that, right?”

Tommy looks at him seriously and then nods once, fast and hard. Like he gets it. Like he agrees and is determined to change. And Eddie hopes for Tarja’s sake he is. But knows, deep in his heart, that either way, she’s going to be fine.

“Also, just a heads up. I’m in love with Steve and I’m going to ask him out,” he adds in a rush when he hears Tarja running up behind him.

“You are shitting me,” Tommy whispers, shocked and clenching his teeth.

Eddie laughs, “Nope,” he says, closing his lips loudly around the P.

“Eddie,” Tommy warns him like he’s waiting for Eddie to say he's joking.

“What? I hear he’s single,” Eddie smirks.

“You motherfuc- Hey Tata!” Gathering Tarja in his arms, Tommy drops the subject but he glares at Eddie as he kisses Tarja’s cheek goodbye and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ as he’s leaving. Eddie closes the door and starts laughing at the look on Tommy’s face.

He needs to call Steve.

He tries a couple of times but he doesn’t pick up and he starts worrying Steve might not actually want to talk to him, and then there’s a knock on the door but Eddie, too preoccupied with his anxiety, opens without looking, thinking Tarja forgot something.

When he doesn't hear her, Eddie looks up from his ‘ignored calls’ screen to see nonother than Steve standing there, looking nervous and like a fucking dream with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. A fucking bouquet of flowers. For him. For Eddie. All different shades of red, because he knows is his favorite color.

Eddie just blinks at him a couple of times and Steve flushes even more and drops the hand holding up the flowers, scratches the back of his neck nervously, “This was stupid, the flowers were fucking stupid. They are stupid. I’m stupid, right?”

A laugh bubbles out of Eddie and he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him inside. He closes the door once they are both in and slams Steve against it, crushing their lips together. Steve circles his arms around Eddie and holds him close, instantly returning the kiss with fervor.

They kiss as if it were fate. They kiss until it's hard to breathe and Eddie pulls away only to kiss him again, and again, and again.

“Not stupid,” he murmurs between kisses and feels Steve’s smile against his lips.

Eventually, Eddie takes a step back and lets Steve into his home properly, “Hi,” he says cheesily.

“Hi,” Steve says back grinning, then he lifts up the bouquet again, which is now completely ruined by him still holding it strongly while they made out like crazy, and his smile drops,

“Shit,” he pouts cutely, god Eddie wants to eat him. He laughs and takes the flowers anyway, putting them in an empty glass bottle, because he doesn’t own a flower vase, because he’s a normal human being. ‘Who the fuck owns a flower vase?’

“Come here,” he says, holding out both hands for Steve to take and follow him.

Steve takes his hands but doesn't move, instead swings them from side to side, “Wait, let's talk,”

Fuck, yeah. They should. That’s a good idea. Fuck. Damn, Steven Whatever-The-Fuck-Is-His-Middle-Name Harrington and his sensible and very logical choice…

Eddie huffs exaggeratedly making Steve chuckle and redirects them to the couch, where they sit still holding hands, “Alas,” he says dramatically, “You are right, we should talk. I actually wanted to ask you out properly, not debauch you the second you walked through the door. Sorry about that” he lies, not sorry at all, again.

Steve blushes and smiles, drawing little circles with his thumbs on Eddie’s hands, “Yeah me too. I wanna do this right. Ask you out. Go on dates. I think we should take this slow,”

Eddie makes a face and groans at that. He doesn't want to take it slow. He wants Steve to move in right now or something. Steve rolls his eyes amused at his interruption and keeps going,

“I came here to ask you out the right way because I want you to know I’m committed. But we should think about how this will affect Tarja… and Tommy too. We should go out a few times, spend some time alone, and I want you to meet my friends and my parents and I want to meet your friends and your uncle too and just do this properly and-”

Eddie interrupts him with a kiss, he can’t take it anymore, he’s been dying to kiss Steve for months now and he’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes Eddie insane, makes him feel like he needs to ruin him, but in a nice way, like with devotion and love.

Steve lets go of his hands to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist and hoists him until he’s straddling Steve. Eddie leans his elbows on Steve’s shoulders, and buries his hands in his hair, pulling and messing with it.

“Okay but have you considered having hard, hot, wet sex, and then maybe we do what you said?” He asks panting against Steve’s lips and actually feeling how that punches the air out of him.

He hugs Eddie closer to his chest and whines, “Yeah okay, we can do it your way,” and gets up, lifting Eddie with him as if he were weightless. Eddie squawks and laughs all the way to his room.

🧸

They spend the week together, talking, eating, drinking, laughing and fucking. Except it’s more than that because when Eddie is inside Steve, with his tongue, his fingers, or his strap, it feels like more. It feels like love. Like fate.

Steve, still determined to take things slow, doesn’t stay there all the time, going back to Robin’s where he moved back to after breaking up with Tommy. He actually brings her over one day and the three of them spend the afternoon together. Eddie decides they are going to be best friends immediately because Robin is hilarious and merciless. When Steve gets back the next day he kisses Eddie so good and hard his knees almost give out on him and tells him he has Robin’s seal of approval. Something he knows Tommy never got.

When the week passes Eddie says goodbye theatrically as if they were cross-star lovers in a bad soap opera and Steve chuckles and calls him ridiculous but kisses him so passionately that Eddie drags him right back inside and they say goodbye again a few hours later.

They had decided to wait until Eddie talked to Tarja about her feelings over Tommy’s and Steve’s breakup and whether she still wanted Steve around or not before having him over again.

But when Tarja gets back home she’s gloomy and silent. She hugs Eddie in greeting when she arrives and then spends the rest of the day lying face down on the floor and occasionally sighing loudly, obviously trying to make Eddie ask her what’s wrong.

And really, Eddie shouldn't find it as funny as he does, but he thinks about calling Wayne and telling him he gets it now when Wayne used to tell him he had too much personality.

Eventually, he lies on the floor next to her and asks. Tarja looks at him with big sad eyes and says, “I haven't seen Steve in a million years! And Daddy said he is not his boyfriend anymore! So I’ll never see him again and I miss him”

Eddie coos at her, “I’m sorry you miss him little dragon, but you can totally see him again! Would you like me to call him? Since he’s my friend too?” Already trying to strategize on how to tell her they are more than friends.

Tarja lights up and jumps off the floor and onto Eddie, punching the breath out of him, “Yes! Yes! Call Steve! Steve smiles more when he’s with you than he did with daddy anyway. Why don’t you boyfriend him instead?”

Well… that was easy.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “That’s a great idea sweety, go grab my phone,”

Tarja runs and grabs Eddie’s phone off the table and hands it to him, he doesn’t bother getting off the floor so she kneels beside him listening attentively as he dials Steve’s number.

“Hi, handsome, you talked with Tarja already?” Steve greets him after it rings twice.

“Yeah about that, turns out Tarja talked to me, actually,” he chuckles, “Hi, by the way”

“Hi,” Steve repeats lovingly and laughs, “What do you mean?”

“She had this awesome idea!” he says winking at her and she covers her mouth with her tiny hands to hide her giggles, “That, since you are not with Tommy anymore, you should be my boyfriend instead,” he continues, voice going soft and chuckles when he hears Steve's breathless ‘oh’ on the other side of the line, “Come over?”

“Of course, gimme an hour? I'm with a client” Steve hums and Eddie whispers he’ll give him anything he asks for and hangs up.

An hour later Tarja is still lying on the floor, only now it’s with papers and crayons spread all around her when the doorbell rings. She looks up at Eddie excitedly and he nods at her, “Go on then”

Tarja runs to the door and opens it wide to reveal Steve standing there as beautiful as ever, giving Eddie a deja vu of the first time he saw him.

“Papa Steve!” Tarja yells and jumps up to hug him.

Steve gasps and falls to his knees with her in his arms and looks up at Eddie with shocked wet eyes.

‘So much for taking it slow,’ Eddie thinks with a smirk.

Fin.

☝️first part

☕🥐💕?

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #trans eddie munson #kid fic #i wrote something #i keep thinking about #you know how kid memories are weird and warped in your minds #i keep thinking about tarja being very much convinced that she is the one who got them to date just cause she suggested it to eddie #when she's older i mean #like they cannon convince her other wise she soooooo sure cause she perfectly remembers telling eddie to 'boyfriend' steve and that they #were not together before that #steve and robin think its hilarious #eddie hates giving her the credit #dunno if tommy gets a redemption ark but i imagine tarja and him have coffee from time to time and they catch up on their lives.#and tarja rolls her eyes a lot at him but he's not as bad as he used to be #its mostly like 'yeah yeah dad im sure tthings were different in your time sure'

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babyleostuff · 10 days

Text

call me back

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!hoshi x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k

. . . fighting with you is never easy for hoshi. especially not when an ocean is separating you

was fighting over the last piece of cake stupid and immature? yes. did it feel like hoshi’s whole world was about to collapse when he noticed you ate it? double yes. while your boyfriend wasn’t known for his great patience and non-existent anger issues, he never took his anger out on you, no matter how frustrated and annoyed he was.

well - until last week.

hoshi came home tired and very, very hungry, nothing out of the ordinary, though you could clearly see he was a lot more agitated than usual, so you did what you always did when he came back exhausted like that - gave him space. you were just about to start your nighttime routine when you heard your name being yelled from the kitchen, and not in a happy “baby, my love, my darling, please come hereeee” kind of way.

you didn’t even get a chance to take a breath as you entered the kitchen, coming face to face with soonyoung and his angry pout. “where the fuck is my cake?” he asked, and now, a week later, his words were still echoing through his head.

it was never his intention to lash out at you like that. obviously. he was tired, and hungry, his muscles were aching, he felt like a bad boyfriend for spending so little time with you, and he forgot to buy a gift for his mom's birthday - not that it mattered, nothing could excuse him for being so mean to you. to make matters worse, instead of acting like a man and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, he chickened out and just left.

“man, why don’t you just don’t call her and apologise?” woozi sighed, throwing his head back because it had to be the tenth time he had to listen to hoshi’s story of how he decided to act like the biggest dick over an overpriced piece of a strawberry cake.

“i did but she’s not answering.”

“no shit, i wouldn’t have answered either.”

and that exactly was the biggest problem - it was hard enough to go through a fight while he was home, but now that he was overseas, a thousand kilometres away from you it was impossible. yes, he could send you flowers and shit, but it would only piss you off even more. there was no way for him to show you how truly fucking sorry he was.

“i know you’re angry with me right now, but please,” hoshi took in a shaky inhale. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so… sad. “please, just call me back,” that had to be the tenth voicemail he left you ever since he left home.

you, on the other hand, weren’t doing much better. you felt like slapping the shit out of him that night in your apartment, and although you were able to control your sudden surge of violence, you didn’t hold back on cursing him out after he left. you even thought about burning his side of the closet but if you did that you’d lose all of your favourite hoodies and flannels, so you gave up on that too.

after your short rage situation, you sat down at kitchen island, and stared at the empty plate where soonyoung’s cake was supposed to be. how were you supposed to know he’d act like that over a cake? obviously you wouldn’t have eaten it then. you figured your boyfriend must’ve had a really bad day at the rehearsals. the past couple of days were really harsh on him, and if you could you’d wrap him in bubble wrap, a couple of blankets, and cuddle the shit out of him for being so strong through all of this.

all of those excuses for him and still - you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his calls and texts, no matter how much listening to his voicemails broke your heart.

“so, um, i know we’re not talking but i’m just calling to tell you good morning. remember to eat, and um, have a great day, baby.”

the boys were slowly losing their patience too (seungcheol asked mingaho if he could share some of his calming tea) because a grumpy hoshi was never a fun hoshi, plus - they hated seeing their best friend constantly beating himself over your fight. there was something lacking without their performance team leader’s spark.

“should we just call her?” mingyu looked over at soonyoung, who was sitting by himself in the corner of the room. “he looks pathetic, moping around like that,” he snorted.

seungcheol groaned, banging his head on jeonghan's shoulder. as they started to get older he started to feel less like a leader but more like a therapist (he really thought about resigning the day seungkwan came whining about a love triangle he got himself into). “they are adults, they should figure it out between themselves.”

“oh come on, do we have to remind you what we had to do for you when you forgot about your girlfriend's birthday so she would forgive you?” mingyu snickered, and pulled out his phone.

you didn’t know what to expect when you saw mingyu’s picture flash over your phone screen. it definitely had something to do with your boyfriend, that much you gathered, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what he had to say. your boyfriend’s words really hurt you, and no matter how much you wanted to forgive him, you weren’t sure you could do it yet.

eventually, you clicked on the green button with a shaky finger. “yes?” you took a deep inhale and prepared yourself for whatever you were about to hear.

“okay, so you know exactly why i’m calling. your boyfriend looks like a kicked puppy, he stopped saying horanghae, he’s dressed all in black and he looks like he drank an entire bottle of soju. i mean, don't worry, he didn't do it because he would be reeling now, but you get what i mean. whatever happened between the two of you, give us back our hoshi."

"well, that was very tactful," you heard coups' voice in the background.

“can you shut up for one second?”

“no, in fact i can’t.”

“okay, boys, i don’t want to interrupt whatever is going on, but i really need to know if he’s doing as bad as you're saying.”

“bad” didn’t even come close to what hoshi was feeling. at this point he was so angry and frustrated at himself for acting like he acted, that seriously had to be one of his lowest points of his life achievements. now you were going to dump him, and he’d have to drown himself in soju, and grow a beard, and write a sad love song that he’d hear at the radio for the rest of his life, and-

there was no way you were calling him right now. and yet, “h-hello? babe?”

“no, the fucking pope,” he’d have to add a cabin in the woods to his list of what he’d do after you’d break up with him. “kwoon soonyoung, you have to be one of the most insufferable, impatient and immature people i know. all this because of a piece of cake? do you hear how childish that sounds?"

loud and clear, honey.

“that’s why i didn’t apologise in the first place. i immediately realised how fucking stupid i acted, and felt so ashamed of saying all of those awful things to you, and so i just left.”

you sighed defeated. you kind of anticipated him saying that - your boyfriend had a habit of doing things before thinking them over, and as much as you understood him being exhausted and overworked, you still couldn’t forget how small he made you feel that night.

“look, i really don’t want to fight, being away from you is hard enough, but…,” you ran a hand over your face. what were you supposed to do? you spent the last three nights on the couch because you couldn’t fall asleep in your shared bed, and there were so many times when you wanted to text him about the most unserious things that only he’d get, but you just couldn’t. “your words really hurt me.”

“i know, shit, i know, and i’m so fucking sorry. whatever i’ll say it won’t be enough, i should’ve apologised right away. fuck, your boyfriend is such a loser,” you heard him laugh, but it was not the usual soonyoung laugh that made the flowers bloom, and sun shine. “i understand if you want to take a break.”

“that’s the thing, i don’t want to take any breaks. i miss you so much. i miss talking to you every night, i miss our silly conversations, i miss getting my daily hoshi boyfriend pics. i’m sick of seeing your face on twitter and not over face time,” you pulled the sleeve of his sweater over your hand, like it would make you feel any closer to him. “let’s take it slow, maybe?”

you could swear you heard soonyoung exhale, “yes, yes, let’s do that. whatever you need, babe,” he said immediately. “my poor baby must’ve been so nervous.”

“i love you, you know,” you whispered. there was no point in making things worse and pretending that you didn't miss him, and even though it would probably be a while before everything went back to normal, you didn't want him to doubt whether you still loved him as much as you did before.

“i love you too. very much,” he whispered back, finally sounding a bit happier. “and baby? thank you for calling me back.

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miley1442111 · 14 days

Text

fix it together- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :) thank you guys for all the love on the first part of this!!!!

please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!

summary: aaron said some horrible things. He's trying to fix it, right?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, happy ending :)

part 1- fix it.

Aaron

The last few weeks had been… tense. Going back to work was fine and we still acted like a couple, don’t get me wrong. Yet, everything felt disgustingly different. The gifts hadn’t been working. The dates hadn’t been working. Every second of my days were spent thinking over what I’d said on that horrible night. Did I ask for an annulment? What was I thinking? I love you more than anything, I want you forever. Since the first date I’d known you were my girl, my forever girl. Every night I’ve been trying to make it clear to you that I want you. That I think you’re a good mother. Even the nights you'd stayed at Penelope's.

After Jack's birthday, you'd gone to Penelope's for 3 nights, I only saw you during the day at work, and even then you didn't look at me, let alone speak to me. You came home because you missed Jack.

Since then, you’ve been distant, focusing on work, or Jack more often than not. So I decided something.

I made all the distractions go away. Jack went off to his cousin's house, and I pulled us out of work for a full week, much to Strauss’s annoyance. Only thing is that I hadn’t told you.

Well, this better work.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Honey?” I cleared my throat, still groggy from waking up a few minutes prior. You weren’t in bed, you’d recently stopped our regular 5 minutes of hazy cuddling as we both wake up. My third favourite part of the day. My second favourite being when you come to me at 2:07pm everyday at work and give me a kiss, my first favourite being the kiss and hug you give me at the end of the day, just after tucking Jack in. All three had stopped in recent weeks.

“Yeah?” You called from the bathroom, doing your regular morning routine.

“I called us out of work,” I yawned and heard your quickened footsteps, then you appeared in front of me. You looked so beautiful, as always. A random and oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. I started to sweat just thinking about it.

“What? Why?! We have people who need our help, we have cases-” You started rambling as I got up and cupped your face, kissing you.

“Because I need you. I need you to be you again,” I whispered against your lips, hoping this would work. “So we’re going to have a nice few days, yeah? Today we have your appointment and we’ll have another talk. Then we can just relax for the rest of the week.”

“The week?” you stressed and I rolled my eyes, kissing you again. Your lips were so perfect. You’d brushed your teeth, not that I mind your morning breath. Not that I mind anything about you.

“Please,” I was begging and I wasn’t even ashamed. “Please honey,” I wrapped my hands around your waist, trying to persuade you.

“Aaron-”

“Don’t call me Aaron,” You’d stopped calling me the usual ‘baby’ or ‘darling’, or my favourite ‘love’. “Please. I want to be normal again. I don’t want this distance, I adore you more than anything.”

I could tell you felt conflicted. I hurt you. I know I did.

“Aaron,” another stab to my heart. “Fine, we’ll take this week off, and we can… talk.”

“Thank you my love,” I smile, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbone. You chuckled. I’d missed your laughter. I’d missed you.

“Ok baby, come on, I need to shower,” you giggled against me and I could feel my heart mending. Baby. I couldn’t stop the grin on my lips. I let go of you, but not before kissing you again. My perfect wife.

“Can I join?” I smirked, and you scoffed.

“Don’t push your luck Hotchner,” You chuckled. This was it. This is what it used to be. Flirty, loving, and fun. Before I ruined everything.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You

Forgiving Aaron was the easy part. Worrying if every parenting decision was the right one, was pure agony.

Is it wrong to say that like that? Should I have done this a different way? Was that right?

And your brain’s personal favourite:

What would Haley have done?

You were beating yourself up about it all for the past few weeks. You felt you had ruined Jack’s birthday with your own insecurities, since he’d asked if you were alright the day after.

Telling Jack you were pregnant was a highlight from the past few weeks. He was ecstatic to find out he’d be getting a little sibling. He already wanted to meet them and he understood that there would be times where either of you wouldn’t be able to play with him when his sibling arrived.

Aaron had been grovelling to the highest degree. Flowers once a week, date nights, house chores, taking paperwork from you so you don’t need to do it, getting any and all pregnancy cravings, and helping you deal with all your morning sickness and migraines.

It was maddening. You were going to go insane if you weren’t careful.

Yet, you felt like every second of every day was spent thinking about your parenting choices and just wondering if having another baby was even a good idea. Would your new child even like you? Would this ruin your relationship with Jack? What was going to happen when they grow up? Did Aaron really think your parenting is terrible?

Ok, so maybe you haven’t forgiven him just yet. Or at all.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You lay back in bed, a book in hand as Aaron pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. You stared at the words on the page, trying to make sense of them when your brain was so clouded. Your levels of anxiety had risen greatly, which you both knew was not good for your baby. Aaron had been trying to lift some of the stress off your shoulders with his constant doting, but you knew that the stress was Aaron. From the moment you woke up to the minute you fell asleep, you felt like you were putting up a show. Being the perfect wife, perfect (probably shitty, you thought anyway) mother, perfect agent. It was exhausting. You wanted to go back to before, back to when you didn’t have to pretend everything was alright.

You pushed him off you and lay on your side, a regular occurrence. Aaron felt dejected. He’d hurt you so badly, and he didn’t know what to do to fix it.

“Baby?” he spoke into the room.

“Yes Aaron?” You answered.

“Do you still love me?” He asked in a small voice. He felt raw and full of emotion. Honestly, he was terrified of the answer.

“Do I still love you?” You scoffed. “I think I should be the one asking that. You were the one mentioning getting an annulment.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that… I was just-” He tried but you shot out of bed, staring at him with an anger in your eyes he could only describe as animalistic.

“ 'You just' what Aaron? What?!” You squealed, all the emotions that you’d let build up, coming out at once. “I’ve been trying to be a good wife, to be a good mother for the past 4 fucking years Aaron. I have been that for you, I have been that for you and Jack, and I’m so happy to do it because I love the both of you more than anything! And all I ask in return is that you love and respect me! That is what you promised me on your wedding day! You didn’t fucking do that. You threw our marriage under the bus and compared me to your ex wife, the second you got slightly stressed. I’m sure Haley did a much better job than me Aaron, I’m sure she did! But I’m here Aaron. I love you. I love Jack. I have dedicated my life to the two of you, to our family! And now I feel like I’ve made a mistake in doing that, because the second you get overwhelmed, I’m in the first person that gets thrown under the bus?! To get reduced to nothing by you?! That’s not fucking fair Aaron, It’s not fair! And the worst part is that I fucking forgave you weeks ago, but I can’t forgive myself! I feel like such a shit mother every single day! I feel like I’m failing everyday, and that our baby will fucking hate me because it’ll somehow know that I’m the second choice! That it’ll know you’d rather be with someone who’s dead! So don’t come to me asking stupid fucking questions like that when you know the fucking answer Aaron. You don’t need to humiliate me more than you already have.”

You walked out of your shared bathroom, down the stairs into the living room, and sobbed your eyes out.

Aaron sat up in the bed, thankful that Jack wasn’t home today, but devastated by your words, and his actions. Why had he even brought up an annulment?

He couldn’t even begin to dissect the feelings he had when the bile in his throat suddenly came on and he had to run to the bathroom, and spill it into the toilet. Your words hit him like a knife, throwing his own words back in his face in the most disgusting way to do it, directed at you. You were an amazing mother, an amazing wife. And yet, you thought you were worthless. He had made you feel worthless. He felt terrible. He didn’t want Haley. Yes, he’d loved her for a long time, yes their divorce was heartbreaking. But he loved you now, and he didn’t ever want to take that for granted. He’d gotten two people who loved him unconditionally, two people who loved him enough to have a child with him, two people that would put themselves in harm’s way for him.

And he fucked it up. Twice.

He followed you downstairs, standing in the doorway as you sobbed into the couch cushions, then walked over and put a hand on your back. You didn’t push him off, that must be a good sign, right? He moved you to sit on his lap, your head in his shoulder as he calmed you down.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I was awful to you. I don’t want an annulment, I never want an annulment. I know it sounds bad but I was just so used to Haley hanging a divorce over my head for so long, it just came out. You are who I want, who I would choose, every single time. You are a good mother. You’re going to be a good mother. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt yourself. That I ever made you doubt me. I never want to hurt you like this again. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done, I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so sorry.”

You let out a half chuckle- half sob and pulled away. “Aaron, I need you to swear to me that you will never fucking bring up us breaking up again, unless you actually mean it.”

“I swear.”

“And I need you to promise me that you’ll work on stopping all the reactive bullshit we’ve been doing,” You sighed.

“I promise.”

“Then, I think we’ll be ok,” You smiled softly and kissed his cheek, settling your head back against his neck.

“So we’re ok again?” He asked hopefully.

“Not yet, no,” You stated and his hope vanished.

“Honey-”

“We will be, soon.”

He smiled again. You were his, always. Just as he was yours, always. Anything, you could get through.

Together.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

people that asked to be tagged: @michasia24 @pear-1206 @randomrosie01 @tonystankhere

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine

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remlionheart · 22 days

Text

Split Decision

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ i woke up this morning w a slutty, feral, urgent need for some soukoku x fem!reader smut and this fic just kinda poured out of me (literally), 3.7k words. porn with a plot. (hope u like it nasty) you're an intern, ending your last day in Yokohama when you're approached at the hotel bar by two men who have one very pressing question for you: red or white wine? i was melting into an actual puddle writing this so lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ (and as alwaaayysss, thank u to the loml @bratbby333 for proofreading and being just as fucking pumped for this to come out as i was ♡) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

You were tired, exhausted after a day filled with meetings that you barely contributed anything to. You were grateful for your internship, happy that it held the promise of a job right after graduation but being in Yokohama for the last two days had been a bit lackluster.

You sat at the bar of your hotel with lazy, muffled jazz music dancing around you as you fiddled with the straw in your empty cocktail glass.

The trip itself hadn't been all bad. The days were long, but you'd managed to make the most of your nights. The firm you were interning for was gracious enough to make it an all-expenses paid trip and you'd definitely taken full advantage of that over the last week.

You'd spent your nights in the most upscale restaurants the city had to offer, taking yourself on little dates to pass the time. You'd found yourself sitting alongside powerful businessmen and prominent executives that made you feel important even though you were still very much on the outskirts of their social circles. You had been a fly on the wall, quietly observing a world that you could only hope to one day be a part of.

It'd been a learning experience if nothing else. A secret glimpse into how rich men behaved when they thought no one was watching. There was something intoxicating about it all. Something that made you want to try harder when you got back home. You were determined to have this sort of life for yourself one day and you would.

That's what made being responsible tonight all the more important. Your flight back home was set to leave at 6 am. Your bags were already packed and waiting for you in your room. As tempting as it was to venture out into the city again, you needed to be well-rested and level-headed when you woke up tomorrow. So, you'd kept your promise to yourself and settled on slipping into your last clean black dress and grabbing a few drinks at the hotel bar to end your makeshift vacation.

Your legs dangled from your stool, the strap of your dress slipping down your arm as you yawned. The bar had been mostly vacant all night. People passing by, but never actually staying for more than one drink. The vintage grandfather clock at the corner of the room watched you tauntingly, another sway of its heavy arms indicating that it was nearing midnight.

You knew it was time to head back. Your hand reached out to bell for the bartender when two opposing, but equally powerful drinks were suddenly placed at either side of you.

A deep, rich red wine on your left and a deceptively alluring white wine on your right. Your eyes hesitantly drifted between the two men that were now occupying the seats next to you, the warmth of their bodies radiating off of them as they sized you up.

"Which one will it be, angel?" His voice was like velvet, a dangerous smirk creeping across his face as his brown eyes met you. His partially bandaged fingertips slowly pushed the Chardonnay towards you. "You look like a woman of good taste. Honestly, I think you'd like this one much better."

A gloved hand rested on the small of your back, gently turning you around to face him instead. His disheveled red hair and azure gaze were hard to ignore as he nudged the Cabernet closer to you. "Tch, you're too pretty for that cheap shit." He smirked. "Besides, I bet you're wantin' something that would hit way deeper than that, right?"

Your breath was suddenly lodged in your throat, an ache burning between your legs at the sheer shamelessness of it all.

The brunette's smile was piercing, his stare slicing into the man on your left as he let out a low laugh. "You've always had quite the imagination, haven't you Chuuya?" His eyes maintained the same sharpness, dragging back to yours with fervor. "I think what she really needs is something that would leave her begging for more and that's not something that measly little sweet red of yours would do."

The air between the three of you was suddenly suffocating.

You crossed one leg over the other, finding yourself actually having to clench while they carried on with their salaciously threatening banter. Their fingers roaming along your back and the top of your hand. Both inching closer and closer, still spilling out corrupt little nothings about which one would taste better going down your throat and which one would fill you up until there was no more room left.

You needed to be in bed. You needed to keep your wits about you. You needed to tell them both that you didn't have time for this, but your insides were on fire the harder they fought over you.

After being ignored at every meeting you'd gone to this week and being nothing more than a wallflower at the dinner parties you'd attended, having two admittedly depraved but attractive men competing over you like this was enough to make you forget about trivial things like time and responsibilities.

They were still going on. Still gently petting and praising you while their insults towards each other grew heavier and headier.

Your blood rushed through your veins as you looked down at the contrasting wines sitting in front of you. You knew the minute that you took a sip of either, your fate would be sealed for the night. You'd be declaring yourself to one of them. The only smart option you had would be to push both drinks aside, to choose yourself, and to leave the two of them to carry on with their degenerate rivalry with the next unsuspecting girl that waltzed in here.

But you weren't going to settle for either.

As you glanced between them, it dawned on you that there was an alternate, much more menacing 4th option at your disposal.

Their voices came to a pause when they noticed your hand finally raise, hovering directly in the center of the two glasses. Your eyes danced from the brunette back to Chuuya, a hazy smile pulling at the corner of your mouth despite the fact that your heart felt like it was capable of ripping straight through your chest at any given second.

You rested your palm over both, letting your middle finger slide into the Cabernet and your index finger slide into the Chardonnay in perfect unison.

The tension was palpable as they watched you slowly pull out and bring them to your lips. You cocked your head to the side, your tongue generously gliding against the mixture of red and white before you brought them all the way into your mouth, spit slightly dribbling down your chin while you looked between the two men.

A smile cut across your face as you noticed the two sets of blown out pupils staring back at you. "Does that answer your question?"

"No," Chuuya was the first to break the silence. "No fuckin' way am I letting that asshole anywhere near the same room as us."

But it only seemed to pique the brunette's interest more.

A grin that could rival that of the devil's began to pull at the corner of his mouth. "Oh c'mon, Chuuya. You're really gonna deny this angel what she wants?"

"Don't start with me, Dazai." he snarled, his eyes softening a bit when they reached yours. "Look, I'd love to fuck you, but -"

Dazai took full advantage of the redhead's decision to opt out, spinning your barstool towards him so that your back was abruptly facing Chuuya before he could even finish his sentence. "Well," he smirked with a dangerous sense of wit in his voice. "Guess that just leaves us then."

"Wait a minute, that's not how this works!" Your chair was once again being flung in the opposite direction. A gloved hand gently cupping yours as he tried to reason with you. "You're gorgeous, y'know that, right? Even if you end up leavin' by yourself, I promise it'd still be better than endin' up with that mackerel over there."

It should've been an insult. In fact, you were certain that it was an insult, but for some deranged reason, it made Dazai all the more persistent to get you what you had originally asked for.

"Okaaay, okaayy." He conceded as he stood up. "There's no need for petty nicknames. If you're too self-conscious to share a beautiful woman's body with me, that's all you have to say."

"Self-conscious?" The edge in Chuuya's tone only gave Dazai what he wanted. "I'm not self-conscious, you arrogant bastard. I just don't trust you."

Dazai leaned into your ear, his hand shielding his mouth though his voice was far from a whisper. "It's because of his height, I'm afraid. Quite sad really."

"Alright, cut the shit." It was enough to finally bring the redhead to his feet.

He stood up, grabbing your hand to help you off your chair, eyes now locked firmly with yours. "You really want us to fuck you?" He asked, completely ignoring the absolutely vile smirk Dazai was sporting.

A mix of fear and arousal pooled between your thighs as you realized that this was your one chance to back out.

You looked between the two of them one last time before promptly grabbing the drinks that were left on the counter and knocking them both back one right after the other.

"My room or yours?" You asked.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The three of you had ended up in Chuuya's suite which was at least three times the size of your room. It was lofty, decorated with high-rise windows that were covered by thick, black privacy curtains. His king-sized bed made up in pristine white sheets that you feared would soon be ripped to shreds with the way the two of them could barely share the same elevator without almost killing each other, let alone share you.

Chuuya took off his gloves and hung his coat in the closest next to Dazai's as you slipped out of your heels and left them by the door. Your heart was suddenly in your throat now that you were actually here.

You were still by the entryway, not entirely sure how this was going to start while Chuuya went around and began dimming the lights, making a snide comment about how the less he had to see of Dazai, the better. The brunette just smirked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, motioning for you to join him.

He spread his legs, lightly guiding you to stand in front of him as he kissed the back of your hand. His brown eyes trailed over you intently, his slender fingers tracing along the curve of your hip. "No need to be nervous," he whispered, tangling his free hand into yours.

There was something so tantalizing about the way he was looking at you. Eager but thorough, like he wanted to memorize every single inch of you. "See how pretty she is, Chuuya?"

You felt him approach you from behind, his calloused hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while his breath fanned across the top of your shoulder. "Care if I unzip this?" he asked, his lips pressing softly against the side of your neck as you nodded. He continued to kiss and nip at you, carefully dragging the zipper down your spine before letting it fall to the floor.

"Fuck."

It was perhaps the one thing that they'd agreed on all night.

Dazai had the full-frontal view of you and Chuuya had the back. You were on full display for them both due to the fact that you'd opted for no bra or panties when you'd left your room earlier, thinking that you'd be coming straight back anyway. What a lie that had turned out to be.

Dazai's hand roamed along your stomach, goosebumps dancing across your skin as his fingertips dipped a bit lower. Chuuya's mouth was still on the nape of your neck, his grip tightening around your hips, drawing the poutiest little whimpers out of you.

"And to think you almost made us pass this up." Dazai taunted. "That would've been suuuch a shame."

"Shut up." Chuuya grunted, pulling you closer so that your ass was flushed perfectly against him. Your back arched feeling how hard he was, another little noise you couldn't quite control escaping you.

Dazai raised an eyebrow at this, realizing how easy it was to make you squirm.

"Oh, our girl's sensitive, isn't she?" He smirked, his fingers making their way to your center, just barely touching the outside of your folds. "Hmm," He hummed, surveying your desperate, dripping cunt. "What kind of sounds do you think she'll make if I do this?"

His finger ran along your clit, only giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation before he immediately plunged it inside of you.

"Nngh ~!" You whined, ramming yourself further into Chuuya's bulge. He held you steady, stuck somewhere between severely hating that Dazai had made you moan like that and fucking loving that you did it while grinding against him.

"Aw, look at that. I think she likes you, Chuuya." Dazai mocked, sliding into you again without warning, jealousy washing over him at how you were holding onto the redhead for support.

He went deeper, adding in another finger, to redirect your attention down to him as you mewled. "Feel good, angel?" he asked through heavy lashes.

You nodded back at him so pitifully, it made him groan, rubbing his thumb against your clit as his other two digits continued their assault on you.

You felt Chuuya undoing his belt behind you, his pants quietly dropping to the ground.

"You're doing so good," he praised into the softness of your neck, stroking himself with one hand and palming at your chest with the other. Squeezing a nipple between his fingers as you filled the room with more heavenly noises. "Think you can do me a favor, baby?" His voice felt like blissful static against the shell of your ear.

"M -" you struggled, your eyes nearly crossing at Dazai relentlessly hitting your g-spot. "Mhmmm." you finally managed.

"Can you bend over f'me?"

You tried your best to comply, but Dazai wasn't making it easy. In fact, he was making it impossible. Every time you tried to move, he'd go deeper, practically pulling you towards him from the inside with the curl of his long fingers.

Your vision was blurry, your body forgetting how to move altogether as the two men fought over you like you were a toy that they were willing to break in half as long as it meant the other person couldn't have it anymore.

"I -" you whined, noticing the absolutely feral smirk spread across Dazai's face. "I'm gonna - fuck, I can't -"

As much as Chuuya wanted to murder him for making you cum first, he knew his turn was next and he was going to fuck you into oblivion. "I've got you." he breathed, still playing with your nipple and holding you in place. "You're okay, baby. Let it out. Oh, just like that. Good fuckin' girl."

Dazai panted as you soaked his fingers, greedily trying to draw another one out of you before Chuuya intervened. "Alright, enough." he said, carefully pulling you away from him. "Here." he said, guiding you so that your ass was arched up for him and your face was on the mattress.

He was just about to put it in when Dazai stopped him, swiftly wriggling himself out of his pants before sitting on the edge of the bed again and placing your head above his dick.

Chuuya ran a frustrated hand over his face, the last fucking thing he wanted to see was your pretty mouth wrapped around Dazai while he was inside of you, but he knew he didn't have a choice.

"Be easy on her," he warned him.

You looked up at Dazai with glazed over eyes as he smiled down at you, proud of his work. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, right angel?"

Your pussy throbbed at the way he was able to make such a reassuring question feel so sinister.

His cock was long and thick and you were quickly realizing just how hard it was going to be to not choke on it. You started off slow, letting him tangle his hand into your hair as you lolled your tongue out and pressed it against him.

"Oh, fuck." Dazai groaned watching you make your way up to his tip, graciously opening your mouth wider to accommodate him.

Chuuya was wildly annoyed but not at all surprised at how vocal Dazai was. He blocked it out by rubbing his tip between your folds, reeling in the way your back arched for him as he softly massaged your abused little clit.

You were moaning, doing your best not to lose your concentration from how intoxicatingly tender Chuuya was handling you.

Whereas Dazai had practically bullied an orgasm out of you, Chuuya was prepared to play the long game. He'd fuck you slow and deep for hours if that's what you wanted. He was determined to make you feel so good you wouldn't be able to remember any other words besides his name.

Once he was satisfied with how wet both of you were from your cum, Chuuya lined himself up with your entrance. "You ready baby?"

"Y - yes." You struggled, Dazai only letting you come up for air for a second before your head was promptly pushed back down again.

You whimpered, completely forgetting what you were doing when Chuuya entered you. His cock stretching you out more than you knew you were capable of. "Oh - mygod." You choked out, eyes pleading as you looked back at Dazai.

Surprisingly, he wasn't jealous. Wasn't instantly shoving your head back down to get you to focus on him. He was in a euphoric daze seeing how fucked-out you looked. Your eyes were full-on watering, your pussy wrapped so tight and snug around Chuuya.

Dazai's grip in your hair lightened, pulling you up but only so he could watch you from a better angle. He held your head in one hand and began stroking himself with the other. "Oh, angel. You love being fucked like that, don't you?"

You nodded pathetically, completely overstimulated by the feeling of Chuuya pounding into you and the beautiful sight of Dazai jerking himself off to you getting railed. "Say it." He smirked. "Use your words."

Chuuya groaned, it was the first time all night that he wasn't tuning Dazai out. His hips thrusted into you harder as you whined. "I - love." Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at how deep Chuuya suddenly was. "I love - it." You cried out. "I love it so fu - cking much."

Chuuya wasn't sure if Dazai was trying to hurt or help him by coaxing such depraved things out of you, but he was lost in the sound of your moans.

Your legs began to shake, your cunt pulsating as Chuuya's tip knocked against your cervix. "I -" your head shook, you felt like you were going to pass out. "I can't - s'too much, I'm gonna -"

"Let me feel it, baby." It was almost more of a beg than a command. "Let me feel that pretty pussy soak my cock."

Dazai's breathing hitched in his throat watching the two of you. The tears that were spilling down your pretty face and the guttural noises you were forcing out of the redhead so effortlessly. The way neither one of you were coherent anymore, too lost in the way your bodies were aching for one another to know anything else.

Dazai wasn't sure why it was doing this to him. Wasn't sure why he couldn't stop himself, but just as you started to cum, he did too. He shoved your mouth back around him, reveling in the shock and pleasure and absolute awe on your face as you swallowed every last drop he shot into your mouth.

Your body felt like it was convulsing. The three of you had somehow all managed to reach your climax in perfect, lewd, synchronicity. Dazai's cum was pooling down your chin while Chuuya filled you up from behind. A combination of both of your fluids mixing together and then squirting out of you when he finally pulled out with a heavy, "Oh, FUCK."

You collapsed into Dazai's lap, your legs refusing to hold you. Chuuya helped pull you up onto the bed as the three of you fell into the mattress with a thud. You laid in the middle of them, your head rested peacefully against Dazai's chest as you tried to stop the room from spinning.

"And you told me to go easy on her." Dazai mused, running his fingers through your hair.

Chuuya rolled over on his side, wrapping his arm around your waist as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. "'Least I didn't get off watching her get railed by another dude." he sneered.

"Yeah, you're right." Dazai tsked, "Only thing that could've made it better is if it was by a taller man."

"Dazai, I swear to god -"

But their bickering came to a quick end when you began to shift against them.

"Hey," you mumbled dreamily, causing both of them to immediately revert back to petting you and leaving light kisses along your skin. "Could you shut the fuck up? I've gotta be up at 5 tomorrow to catch my flight."

Chuuya smirked and set an alarm on his phone. Truthfully, he was willing to let you talk to him however you wanted with what you'd done to him tonight.

He reluctantly pulled the comforter up over the three of you. As much as he didn't want Dazai in his room for another minute, you looked too content to move.

You had never felt more safe or secure than you did being smushed between the two of them. Their words were hazy as you began to doze off, two sets of strong arms wrapped around you.

"Y'know, I think I'll kinda miss her." Chuuya breathed.

"Me too," Dazai smiled, looking down at you. "She's our girl."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

#i wrote this in a DAY someone pls take my laptop away #rem writes #soukoku #soukoku x reader #dazai smut #chuuya nakahara #chuuya smut #bsd smut #bsd x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd

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43qh · 2 months

Text

Come A Little Closer (M)

quinn hughes x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff ! (happy ending, don’t worry)

word count: 3.1k

warnings: unprotected sex, insecure quinn, reassurance, so soft it hurts

summary: ‘there is a halo in your mouth, and i like how it burns.’

truly, there was nothing more beautiful than the sight of seeing quinn come home. right back to you. it was a snowy morning, and his eyes squint in a smile as he reaches you, a bag over his shoulder. there’s momentary silence, almost like this moment felt unreal, just like all the others.

“i’ve missed you so much, you really have no idea.” his voice rasps. you look at him with your own soft smile, noticing the small bags under his eyes. you knew he was too excited to sleep the night before.

there’s something so bittersweet about him coming home. you can feel the exhaustion, the tiredness that exudes from his body. you can tell he’s barely holding on. the sigh he let’s out the second he enters your shared home is a telltale that he could drop from exertion any moment. it makes you sad to see him that way. to know he overworks himself.

your thoughts are interrupted when quinn wraps his arms around you, giving you hug. not a hint of selfishness behind it. you fall into his embrace, enjoying the feeling of his body against yours again. it was nothing but sweet. soft.

quinn kisses your temple, “i’m so glad to be home.” he meant you. he couldn’t care where you were. you were where home lied.

you kiss his cheek, “i’m glad to have you home.”

the week without him felt torturous. your calls were minimal, texts barely coming through every now and then. but you would sacrifice it for the rest of your life if it meant he got to come back to you.

quinn rests his head on your shoulder. this was a version of himself he could only be around you. this was a different him. his world becomes one again the second he’s in the same room as you. he swears he leaves part of his soul with you when he leaves. and he waits to be tenderly in your arms again, kissing your lips like it was his own air he breathed.

quinn’s lips are on yours before you can say anything else. before you can ask how his trip was, knowing how he’d reply anyway. mumbling something about how it would have been better with you there. his kiss burns. aches down to your feet and the ground below you. it was a sensation you never really got used to.

his lips were cold, the snowy air still evident on his lips and tongue. he takes his time kissing you, almost like it’s his last. he always kisses you that way. it’s an endearing part of him. something that makes you want to stay.

quinn fears you’ll run one day. realizing how crazy his schedule really is and how you can’t take it anymore. his fears leak into his affections, and you can feel them. it’s almost as if you’ve been connected from the start. you want to reassure him that you’ll never run, but you know words would fall on deaf ears for him. so you kiss him back the same way he kisses you. with tenderness, fervor, want. something you know he desires.

and fuck, is quinn grateful for it. your kiss seals his insecurities, locking them away for another day. and when he pulls back, looking into your glossy eyes and seeing the way your lips shine from spit, he smiles to himself. quinn searches your face, looking for doubt or reason. but he finds none. it’s love circling your eyes and he knows his are swimming with you.

it’s a delicate affirmation. something he doesn’t take lightly, but knows is a soft gesture. quinn knows you know him like the back of your hand by now, and it impresses him.

he sighs, “yeah, i’m so glad to be home.”

your giggle surrounds the room and envelopes his body in a warm hug. his fingertips burning back to life from the cold and his ears ringing in familiarity.

there was nothing like coming home.

waking up beside you was like seeing an angel the first time. every single time. your body was rested snuggly against his own as he watched your breath rise and fall. he could watch you forever. he admired the way you carried grace even in your sleep.

he feels you twitch to life, rubbing your face into his chest, making a chuckle rise in his throat and come to life. your eyes squint up at him, a soft and lazy smile gracing your features. he watches you, his smile widening when you lean up for a kiss.

but he wants more, and you know this.

morning lazy sex was quinn’s favorite. he loved how your guard would fall with the way his touch set your skin ablaze. his hands explored beneath your night shirt, making you whine into his kiss. quinn flips you over, breaking the kiss and making you gasp. his eyes glaze over, watching the way your breath rises and falls in a different way this time.

you still had sleep in your eyes, a haze clouding your mind as he works your shirt over your head. he’s quick to remove your panties with it, his own clothes following suit. quinn doesn’t like wasting time in the morning. he’s eager, ready to please.

you run your fingers alone his shoulders and one hand goes to his neck, pulling him down for a lazy and sloppy kiss. quinn groans when your fingers softly grasp his locks, sending shivers down his spine. quinn loved your touch. it never failed to make him quiver with delight.

quinn couldn’t wait much longer, though. he runs his cock between your folds, collecting your slick and covering his dick with it. he pulls apart from your kiss to catch his breath, listening to the whine you make when he runs his tip across your clit, stopping there to add pressure. he loves the way you buck up your hips, neediness starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

“quinn..” you breathe, voice light and airy.

“i know, baby,” he huffs, lining up with your entrance, “i’ve got you.”

your fingers dig into one of his shoulders, nails probably leaving a print. not that he minds really. he pushes into you, the anticipation practically killing the both of you as he slowly slides in. you’re so tight, and he’s so big. he swears up and down you were made for him, though. it’s like he’s right where he belongs when it comes to you.

“oh, fuck.” you gasp, listening as you hear the soft squelching noises fill the room. your moans soon follow as he begins to set a nice, slow pace.

it was lazy. he rests himself on his elbows, and you can hear his hitched breathing directly in your ear every time you clench around him. it’s heaven. god, it’s heaven.

he wants to be impossibly close to you, make up for lost time. make up for all the times he couldn’t be there for you. make up for missing out on so many things that were important to you. you may never mention some things to him, but he knows he misses things. he hates it. he hates that he has to be apart from you for even just a game, even when you’re right there in the stands watching him.

he never wants to miss a thing again. despite it being unrealistic, he pushes it aside and focuses on the way your moans make his cock throb and the way your touch makes his body react.

he pushes into you with more force, finding that special spot and making you arch your chest into his, “oh, quinn.”

he loves the way you say his name. “yeah? feel good, baby?”

you can only nod dumbly, and he smiles to himself, biting his lip and trailing kisses along your jaw and neck. he feels the way your walls contract around him, pulling another groan from him.

quinn never realizes how quick you can make him cum until he’s finally inside you, filling you up and feeling just how warm you are. the same goes for you. you can feel his veins, the way his cock twitches when you moan. it’s nothing you both haven’t felt before, but it never stops feeling like the first time.

“you’re gonna make me cum,” he rasps in your ear, his thrusts becoming more eager and sloppier. you whine back, lightly biting his shoulder, “want you to cum on my cock. want you to make a mess.”

his words build a tension in your core, “fuck, yeah, gonna cum.”

quinn speeds up, desperately wanting your release all over him. he wants to watch as you fall apart, feel as you fall apart. and he does. god, he does. he hears you chant his name like it’s the only word you know, tightly gripping his cock with your pussy and triggering his own release. he wants to roll his eyes back, but then he’d be missing the show of your own rolling back.

he watches you intently, almost like time slows down for a bit. heavy breathing fills the air, and he’s back to reality before he wants to be. he kisses your shoulder, neck, jaw, lips. he’s tender taking care of you.

he never wants to stop taking care of you.

quinn drags his feet as he enters the front door, a long game resting on his shoulders and you stop what you’re doing to rush towards him. he feels like sunshine has suddenly hit him, his aching bones starting to cure at the sight of your sympathetic smile. it’s so damn easy coming home to you.

“hi quinny,” the nickname rolls off your tongue and he can feel the heat run up his ears. he enjoys it, but no one else could ever call him that and get away with it.

“hi, sweetheart.” he opens his arms for your embrace. when you fall into him, you smell the post-game shower on him. some of his natural musk still lingers, his soap mixing with it and making you sigh. he smelled so good. and you fit so perfectly into his life.

“you were so good out there,” you kiss behind his ear, standing on your tippy toes for just a few seconds to reach. he smiles to himself at the action.

“thank you, did you watch the whole game?” he questions, knowing you had a job from home.

“i did.” you reply back, and there’s a silence that lingers. nothing that suffocates or builds tension. it’s just quiet. so quiet and peaceful. a place where quinn can rest.

if quinn could have you closer, he would. you feel him squeeze you againsr his chest, causing a small squeak to escape your lips, making him laugh. and when he pulls back, he seeks your smile before kissing you. it felt like too long since he last had your lips on his. call him clingy or whipped, he really didn’t care. quinn is in love. so in love.

the kiss is sweet and soft, no lingering intentions. he pulls back to stare at you, “what did you do today?”

and he listens as he walks to your shared bedroom to undress into something more comfortable. he asks questions every now and then, but making a point not to interrupt you. he hears a yawn between sentences every now and then, smiling to himself. he knew you waited and stayed up just late enough to greet him home. he sighs as he walks to the bed, sitting on the edge.

you stand between his legs and his hands immediately go behind your thighs, looking up at you. his world spins. you have a glow on your cheeks as the moon shines through the window in the bedroom. it knocks the air out of his chest.

to have gained an angel like you, he wasn’t sure what he ever did to deserve you. but he’ll thank the universe for fate or whatever it was that brought you to him.

“ready to lay down?” you tilt your head, eyes glossy from your constant yawning.

quinn softly smiles and lightly nods, “yeah.”

the feeling of holding you as you both drift to sleep is something he considers a privilege. especially when he’s away and you can’t come with, he thinks about it often. the way your perfume started to print into his sheets, the way your soft breaths eased his soul, the way your shampoo brought him comfort.

he kisses your forehead, feeling as you start to fall more and more limp in his arms as he closes his own eyes.

love entangles the both of you as you fall in a slumber, holding the both of you together.

quinn can’t take his eyes off you.

you have happiness in your eyes, and you both have been laughing at random things the both of you have said with spontaneous drunken kisses. quinn was only slightly buzzed, watching you throw your head back at a joke he expresses.

how wonderful it is that you both laugh because your bodies cannot contain joy.

quinn tells you locker room stories, looking at the glint in your eyes. he tells you all the times his brothers caused him trouble that he had to fix. he tells you past stories of the both of you that make you both laugh in hysterics.

it’s his first night home in awhile, just you and him.

there were no distractions, no practice, no worries hanging off his shoulders. it was just you and him. and he couldn’t have asked for better, for more.

for he is too soft and too easily devoured by his love.

your warm hands clutching his own when you laugh. your teeth shining under the light. eyes twinkling on the brink of tears of joy. he soaks in the moment, making sure to keep it in his mind forever. like he keeps a lucky chain in his pocket that you gave him for christmas.

when quinn falls silent, eyes watching you, you tilt your head, “you okay, quinny?”

he’s fast to smile, teeth on display for your eyes only, “of course.”

he could go on forever about how beautiful you look in that moment. your eyes curious and big, your body facing his in a criss-cross position on the couch, the lick on your lips as you lick away the drops of wine that spilt from laughing too hard at one point.

it was all too surreal for him.

he had the girl of his dreams sitting in front of him.

when did his life become this way? playing a sport he loved, coming home to the person he was sure he loved more.

this was his bliss.

and in your absence, he would grasp desperately for anything, hoping it speaks to his soul like you do, but nothing ever does. nothing ever will. you were one of a kind. so he waits to come home to you. and the wait feels like a lonely house, until he sees you again and and lives in you. and until he sees you again, it’s like the house he built in his mind that’s surrounded by you aches for you. like the windows ache.

quinn’s love runs deep. god, it runs deep.

“i love you.” he spit it out into the warm air, like a gospel. he feels the tightening in his chest as you smile at him.

“i love you too, quinn.” you’re so genuine. he can feel that you love him the same way he loves you. that’s all he can really ask for.

he was always afraid he would love someone more or less than his partner. but, with you, it’s a complete balance. something he has craved the minute he met you.

the rest of the night is a room full of laughter, his ears ringing to the sound of your beautiful voice. he’s swallowed whole by his own love.

he could live this way forever.

“you’ll never leave me, right?” quinn asks, looking for reassurance as you drop a dish in the sink at the sound of his voice. you hadn’t heard him walk in, yet alone enter the house.

“you scared me,” you breathe, turning around to face him. his eyes are a bit bloodshot, his face a bit puffy and his cheeks and nose red. he looks vulnerable, almost like if you were to make the wrong move, he would break. “no, never.”

your words are firm, shaking your head as you dry your hands before approaching him. you rest your hands on the sides of his face, making him look at you, despite him wanting to turn away in shame.

“i-” he starts, swallowing shallowly, “i just want to be good. good for you.”

you run your thumbs across the scruff on his face, smiling at him with a twinge of love that makes his body fall weak, “you’re more than good. especially for me.”

quinn exhales softly before pressing his forehead to yours, eyes closed as he leans into your touch. his own hands finally raise from his sides, softly grasping your waist and holding you both there for several minutes. it’s like he needs this. needs this moment to ground himself.

quinn doesn’t mean to be so vulnerable, so emotional. he’s never been like this with anyone, felt like this with anyone. it’s new to him, insecurities building on their own at the new found feelings. but your embrace proves enough to reassure him. your firm affirmations making it easier.

quinn wasn’t the type to ask for reassurance. he wasn’t the type the really ask for much at all. he wonders what makes being around you different. what allows him to drop his stoic facade for you? what makes him want to be this way with you? just with you?

it’s love, he’s sure.

it’s always love.

you press a soft kiss to his lips, breaking away his thoughts and sending him somewhere else. sending him back in the present and back down to you. your lips so soft, so captivating. your lips tingle in an ache again, sending shivers down your spine as you both bring each other closer.

the sigh he let’s out makes you look at him, his exhaustion turning into a relaxed state, “thank you. for always being here.”

you nod, “thank you,” you repeat, “for always being good.”

the closeness between the both of you makes you smile.

if you could come a little closer.

you would.

#nhl #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes scenario #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #nhl smut

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lipringlrh · 3 months

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i know it wont work | CL16

"I hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different.” - i know it won’t work, gracie abrams

summary: you don’t love charles anymore and it’s wrong to keep dragging him along.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

an: wrote this ages ago but remembered it. happy charles contract day !!!

word count: 1.8k

warning: a bit suggestive? breakups and angst, sad charles who likes to beg x

feedback and reblogs appreciated !!

we need to talk.

He received the text from you this morning, but he didn't want to respond. He knew what was coming but he had been ignoring it and trying his best to fix it for the past month.

He could feel you falling out of love with him over the past few weeks and he had tried everything to fix it. He'd bought you flowers, took you on fancy dates, and constantly did your favourite activities with you. It's not like he wasn't doing that before, he most definitely was, but he made it more often and romantic than before. The last thing he wanted was to lose you.

You would've said the same every day of your life until recently. You didn't know how it happened, or when or why, but it did and you hated yourself for it. You didn't want to fall out of love with Charles, you always believed you'd be together for the rest of your lives, so when you realised it was happening you ignored it, trying to force the feelings back. You immersed yourself in the dates he took you on and tried so hard to love him but you couldn't help it anymore.

It didn't take much time to realise Charles knew. He could always read you better than anyone else which you usually loved. He spent days crying into your arms, holding you and refusing to let you leave, mourning the relationship he knew was coming to an end. Neither of you addressed it though, you just waited, hoping the other would talk first. Despite loving him less and less, you loved the relationship you had with him, and you didn't want to leave him.

It was unfair though, you realised. You'd stare at each other and you could see easily how in love he was with you whilst you felt nothing. It was horrible dragging it on, especially knowing he knew, and you couldn't spend time with him without feeling incredibly guilty.

You didn't know how to go about it, telling the man you thought you'd spend your life with you didn't love him, but after sending the text, you knew you'd started it the wrong way.

You weren't surprised by the lack of response, you guessed it might happen, but you stayed home all day knowing he would show up at some point. And at quarter past eleven at night, he did.

You both were sat on the same sofa, not too far apart but far enough you couldn't touch each other without leaning. Charles hadn't looked at you since he arrived, he stared mostly at the floor, very occasionally looking up. It wasn't hard to notice the colour of his eyes - they were bright red, most likely from a mix of crying and rubbing them.

You sat in silence for a while, neither of you saying anything, neither of you wanting to admit the truth. Neither of you had told anyone the issues over the past month, but a few close friends had some ideas.

Charles was playing with his fingers, ripping off skin at the corners, he didn't want to hear what he knew you were going to say but he couldn't sit in the silence any longer without crying.

"Please just get it over with," he whispered, hoping he had the completely wrong idea for the last month.

You paused for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying not to cry yourself, "I'm not in love with you anymore."

It made you feel sick to finally say it out loud. You hated yourself for feeling it and for bottling it in for so long.

The room was silent again but not for long. Charles' head was in his hands, and small sobs could be heard from him.

"Charles, I am so sorry. I didn't want this to happen, I wanted to spend my life with you, I promise."

“Don’t, please,” he cried, voice shaking.

You started to focus on your own breathing again, forcing yourself to hold back from crying, “we can’t be together anymore.”

He looked up, straight at you. You could see his face fully now for the first time, Tears ran down his face, which was already blotchy. He looked tired and hopeless, and you feared he’d only get worse.

“Yeah, no shit,” his voice started off strong before breaking completely at the end, sending out another wave of sobs.

“God, I am so sorry, Charles, I am so sorry,” you sniffled, beginning to cry yourself.

He just shook his head and places it back in his hands. His full body was shaking and he was sobbing harder than you thought possible.

“Can you- can you hold me please?” he choked, barely holding back his cries.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“Please,” he begged, shamelessly. He didn’t care anymore, you knew he needed you, he didn’t need to hide it.

You moved closer to him, barely, still keeping a safe distance. You placed a hand on his head, not sure what else to do.

Charles made the next move and placed himself right next to you, almost on top of you. He leaned into you, pressing his head into your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him subconsciously, pulling him closer.

He carried on shaking into you, letting out strangled sobs. They never seemed to end, he just seemed to carry on for what felt like forever. You cried too, into his hair, occasionally pressing tender kisses wherever you could reach.

"Please let me stay tonight, it's too dark for me to drive. Let me just have one last night with you please," he begged, still crying into your shoulder.

You knew it was bullshit - he drove just as well at night as in the day and it was just as dark as when he came, but you didn’t have the energy to dispute him.

“Charles-”

“Please, baby, just one night. Just one.”

You couldn’t answer him. It would be so wrong to say yes but it felt wrong to say no.

“Let me have one last good memory. Let me prove what you’re missing,” he tried pleading again.

You sighed, nodding, not that he could see you. He could feel you though but wasn’t entirely sure if your movements meant anything.

“Hmm, you want to? Please, baby. Talk to me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, yes? Talk properly.” he ordered, sharply yet quietly, taking more control over his tears.

“Yes Charles,” you responded. He tried to look at you pointedly, silently pushing you for more, but with his tear-stained face it didn't work too well. After knowing him better than anyone, you understood though, “Yes Charles, you can stay.”

“Good answer,” he whispered, turning back into your neck, pressing lazy kisses up and down, “such a good answer angel.”

“Charles,” you almost whined. Almost. It’d be wrong to let him have you the way he wanted whilst he was in this state but God did it feel good.

He was moving down your jaw, leaving wet, loving, kisses in the wake. He was pushing himself into you, moving against your thigh.

“Let me make love to you, baby,” he moaned, rutting his hips faster against yours, “don’t refuse. I know you can’t resist me. Please.”

His face was pressed into your neck, switching between sucking and biting down. His hands moved further down, touching your chest and body in all the right places.

“Yes. Please, Charles.”

————

You slept well that night, better than you had in a long while even though you were still wrapped up in Charles’ arms. You were woken up by him, dabbing light kisses down your neck.

Light fled in through the window, hitting you and Charles perfectly. You awoke to feel his hair tickling your chin, his lips now kissing across your shoulder.

“Charles, not again,” you groaned, not wanting him to stop at all, but you were beginning to feel guilty. You just spent a night with a man who loved you unconditionally, knowing that you didn't, "Come on, Charles, get up."

He carried on kissing you, moving towards your collar bone, then inching further down, "we can go again."

You tangled your hands in his hair, moving his face up, away from your body.

"No, Charles," you paused, taking in a sharp intake of breath as Charles began kissing your jaw, "Charles, you need to go."

He stopped instantly and looked up at you. It was easy to notice the sudden change in demeanour. His playful attitude was gone, replaced with a much more miserable one. He already looked like he was going to cry again.

He'd put last nights conversation to the back of his mind, only focusing on the fact he had you all to himself. He didn't want to remember it either.

"Is there anything I can do to make you love me?" he whispered, brokenly, on the verge of crying again.

He rested his head on your chest, beginning to sob into you. His body was lightly shaking, only getting more vigorous as time went on. You couldn't respond to him - you couldn't even look at him. Guilt ate you up inside, you wanted to love him.

"I think you should go, Charles," you spoke, your voice cracking. You were crying now too.

"I want to stay."

"I don't love you Charles," you cried, "I think it's best if you leave."

"Could you love me again?" he pried, barely being able to speak between gasping for breath, his crying taking over his whole body.

"I think you should go."

"Can you answer me?" he begged.

You didn't want to but you had to. You repeated yourself again, "I think you should go, Charles,"

He propped himself up on his arms, his face over yours. He had tear tracks down his face. He was hopeful when he shouldn't be, "you're not saying no."

"I'm saying I think you should go."

"Please," he asked again, wanting nothing more than you to give in. He always believed, deep down, you were it for him, his forever person, and he really didn't want to give you up.

"Please go, Charles," you pleaded, refusing to look at him. If you could go back in time and fix your feelings, you would, in every timeline, but you couldn't and you regretted it every second.

"I'm going," he sighed, defeatedly, getting up from the bed. He grabbed his clothes, dressing himself with little effort.

He took his time, trying to savour every last bit of time with you, even if it was bittersweet. He took one last look at you before he was out of the door, holding your gaze for as long as he could.

"I promise you I'll love you forever, call me if you'll let me".

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mountsmase · 3 months

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a/n: hi 🫶🏻 this fic was inspired by this concept which was sent in by an anon a couple of weeks ago, for some reason this fic ended up being quite challenging for me to write and I ended up scraping one draft and starting again completely, but I’m so happy with how it’s turned out and it’s definitely a fic that I’m now proud of 🥺 I really hope you enjoy and feedback as always is appreciated 🩷

word count: 5k

genre: smut

———————

A Helping Hand - MM7

It’s the scratch of Masons beard against your skin that wakes you. His breath tickling over your skin as he scatters kisses along the expanse of your shoulder.

“Morning” he speaks once he notices you stirring, his gruff morning voice causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps.

Your eyes flutter open, taking a few moments to adjust to the morning light and when they do, you find his already focussed on you.

There’s a lazy smile on his lips, his hair a little messy and you can’t help but reach up, brushing your fingers through the soft strands to push it back from where they’ve fallen onto his forehead.

“Good morning” your voice is sleepy as hold your arms open for him, seeking his warmth under the duvet and he doesn’t hesitate to snuggle up to you, his head finding it’s home in the crook of your neck whilst your arms wrap around his shoulders.

“Sleep well?” He murmurs, voice slightly muffled by your skin.

“Yeah, did you?”

He doesn’t respond but you can feel him nodding into your neck, a sigh slipping past his lips when your hand finds the back of his head, fingers scratching over his scalp the way he loves.

You know that you should get up and start your day, the sunlight that’s streaming through the gaps in the curtains an indicator that you’ve probably slept in a little longer than you wanted, but leaving the warmth of the bed is the last thing you want to be doing.

Plus, a little bit of alone time with Mason is exactly what you want right now.

His family are currently visiting from Portsmouth, and as much as you love hosting them, having so many people in the house can definitely get a little bit crazy. Since you moved up to Manchester, their visits have become less frequent, but longer, and they’ve already been staying with you for a couple of days now, planning to stay a few more nights before heading back home.

Family time is so important to you, and you know it is for Mason as well, but quality time is a huge love language of yours, and even though it’s only been a few days, you’ve missed these little moments where it’s just the two of you.

You let out a content sigh, relaxing under him when his hand finds its way under your PJ top, and he doesn’t miss the way you shiver when he presses his lips to your neck.

His fingertips dance over your waist whilst his lips pepper kisses to your skin and you tilt your head back to allow him better access.

The kisses start off as innocent, just presses of his lips to your skin whilst his fingertips trace random patterns over your hip. But they soon turn to more, his lips lingering longer and you hold back a moan when he suctions them over your most sensitive spot, his teeth grazing your skin before soothing the slight sting with his tongue.

Your hands tug on his hair, pulling his head out of your neck and guiding his lips to yours instead. He kisses you back instantly, keeping it soft to start as his lips work over yours, hand moving from your hip to cradle your jaw.

He coaxes your lips open, slipping his tongue inside and you moan into his mouth when it glides against your own, the kiss gradually becoming more heated as he moves further on top of you.

He presses one of his knees between your legs, and you slip them open for him without hesitation, bucking your hips when the new position has his thigh pressing against your clothed centre.

“Mase, we can’t” you whisper, unable to stop your hips from rolling into his and when you feel his hard length pressing into your thigh through his boxers, you want to forget you ever said anything and carry on.

You nearly give into him, sinking into the mattress when he brushes his fingertips along the waist band of your shorts, but the sound of little footsteps running past your bedroom door has you snapping back to reality.

Under other circumstances, you would jump at the opportunity to spend the morning in bed with him, but it’s the thought of getting caught that has you reluctantly rolling away.

You hear a muffled groan behind you when you move away from him and climb out of bed, slipping one of his hoodies on before turning to find him with his face buried in his pillow. You regret leaving him immediately, wanting nothing more than to climb back under those covers, but the rational part of your brain stops you.

“You know we can’t Mase” you huff, walking around to his side of the bed and sitting next to him on the edge of the mattress.

You trail your fingers over his bare shoulders, lightly scratching over his skin in an attempt to get him to look at you.

When he lifts his head from the pillow and gazes up at you with wide eyes and pouted lips, you can’t help but lean down and give him a brief kiss, your lips barely brushing over his before you’re pulling back, way too quick for his liking.

“Do you want any breakfast?” You ask him before standing back up, and he has to stop him self from making a comment about wanting you.

He lets you know that he’ll get something a bit later on, sitting himself up in bed to give you one last kiss before you leave the room. He watches as the door clicks closed behind you, tipping his head back in frustration now that he’s been left alone.

He understands why you don’t want to risk doing anything with other people in the house, because honestly, the thought of getting caught scares the shit out of him too. But, after almost a week of not being able to touch you or love on you how he pleases, he wants nothing more than to go after you and pull you back to bed with him.

His mind is flooded with thoughts as he lays in bed for a while longer, unable to get you out of his head when he climbs out from under the covers and disappears into the en-suite bathroom.

You’re welcomed by a series of ‘good morning’s as you enter the combined living/kitchen space, finding everyone already awake and ready for the day when you walk in wearing one of Mason’s hoodies and a pair of PJ bottoms.

“Morning” you greet them all with a smile, heading into the kitchen to make yourself a drink, and you’re just switching the kettle on when Lewis comes up beside you.

“We were thinking of heading out for a walk in a little bit, you and Mase are obviously welcome to join us if you want to” he tells you, and you lean back against the counter beside him to get a better look out of the window.

You ponder over his question for a moment, noticing that it’s an abnormally sunny day for the middle of winter, and as much as a walk would be nice, some alone time with Mason sounds way more appealing.

You politely decline his offer, letting him know that you’ll stay home before asking if anyone else wants a drink and busying yourself with making them.

Your mind begins swirling with thoughts of what you and Mason could get up to if they’re out for even just an hour, and you scold yourself for thinking those things in front of his family, but you can’t help growing impatient as you wait for them to leave.

You follow them to the door when they’re ready, waving them off before closing it and watching from the window, you make sure they’re past the end of the driveway before you’re heading back upstairs.

You enter your bedroom, expecting to find Mason still in bed where you left him not even ten minuets ago, but you soon notice the sound of running water coming from the en-suite.

Assuming he’s just having a quick shower, you make your way to the bed, quite happy just waiting for him to be finished, but a noise that sounds strangely like a moan catches your attention. You stop in your tracks, waiting for a moment to see if it’s followed by another.

There’s silence for a few seconds, and you’re convinced that you’re just hearing things until another, louder and more clear moan comes from the bathroom.

Its still muffled, barely audible over the sound of the water, but it has heat rushing straight towards your core, mind swirling with thoughts about what exactly he’s doing behind that door.

Your curiosity carries you across the room, hand reaching to push the en-suite door open slightly and you peak your head around the side to find him stood with his back to you in the shower.

Your view is a little obstructed with all of the steam covering the glass, but you can just make out that he has one hand steadying himself against the wall, the other in front of him with the stream of water hitting his chest.

It doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s doing, his posture tense and the muscles in his arm flexing with every movement of his hand as he pleasures himself, completely unaware of your presence.

You feel yourself flush from head to toe, cheeks blazing as you move yourself further into the steamy bathroom, careful not to catch his attention as you click the door closed behind you.

You’re debating what to do, not knowing whether to leave him be or join him, but your mind is made up when he lets out a groan, followed by a moan of your name which has your tummy doing somersaults.

You rid yourself of your PJs, throwing them in the rough direction of the laundry basket before sliding the shower door open and stepping inside, Mason still unaware of your presence.

Now that you’re in the shower with him, his moans and little whimpers seem louder, clearer and echoing off the tiled walls and they have your legs feeling like jelly as you move towards him.

You approach him slowly, trying your best not to startle him but he still jumps at your touch, halting his movements when he realises he’s be caught.

He slowly starts to relax again when you step closer to him. You run your hands over his back and shoulders, lips following them and drawing a path between his freckles and moles, before landing on the tattoo that sits at the base of his neck.

“You okay?” You finally speak, voice muffled by his skin.

“I, yeah, fuck- I” He stumbles over his words and you watch as he drops his head forward, just about catching his flaming cheeks before he turns his face to hide them from you.

“I’ve got you” you murmur, sliding one of your hands down from his shoulder.

Your fingers brush over his skin, tracing the lines of his Champions League tattoo on their way to his front. You tease your touch over his tummy, smiling to your self when the muscles of his abs flutter under your fingers, before moving to where he needs you most.

His hand is still wrapped around the base of his cock, unmoving since you joined him in the shower a few moments ago, and you gently pull at his wrist, moving his hand away and replacing it with your own.

He feels thick and heavy in your palm when you wrap your fingers around his base, the softest yet most sinful whimper slipping past his lips when you twist your hand over his length.

“Fuck,” he curses when you brush your thumb over his tip, spreading the pre cum that’s collected there.

“Feel good, bubba?” You hum against his skin, lips continuing to scatter kisses over the expanse of his back.

“So good, Angel, fuck”

You bring your free hand around to his front, a whimper leaving his lips when you lightly scratch your nails over his tummy.

Needing to hold onto you in some way, he brings his own hand up, lacing his fingers through yours and he squeezes gently.

You continue to work him with your hand, tightening your grip slightly whenever you get closer to his tip, and the whine he lets out when you tease your thumb over his slit has your knees turning weak.

“Please, baby” He whimpers, head tilting to try and catch a glimpse of you over his shoulder.

You nuzzle your nose into his back, hand continuing to torture him with slow strokes.

“What do you need, Mase?” You whisper against his skin, thumb brushing another teasing stroke over his tip and he can only groan in response, “Need you to tell me what you want or I can’t help you, bubs”

You halt your movements when he still doesn’t respond, his hips hips jerking forward in an attempt to get you to move your fist again, but a frustrated sigh slips past his lips when you make no effort to continue.

“You know what I want” His words come out as more of a mumble, but you could hear the attitude laced in them from a mile away and he whines when you squeeze your fist a little tighter around him.

“I need to hear you say it, Mase” you pry,

“Need you, your mouth - fuck - anything, please” He finally manages to get out, hips bucking into your hand when you give one last stroke over his length.

“Not in here”

You lean up, pressing a barely there kiss to his cheek and he whimpers when your touch leaves him, watching in confusion as you reach around his body to turn the shower off before stepping away from him and out of it completely.

Your words take a few moments to sink in, but he quickly follows when he sees you grabbing two towels from the rail, holding one out for him as you rush to dry yourself off.

“W-wait, what about -“

“They’ve gone out” you tell him briefly, cutting him off mid sentence.

There’s still a few droplets of water cascading down his chest when you grow impatient and take the towel from him, discarding it, along with yours, to the side before pulling him through to the bedroom.

“Sit,” you say, gently pushing on his shoulders and he falls onto edge of the mattress, legs spreading apart when you move to settle on the floor between them.

He sighs contentedly, eyes fluttering closed as you run your hands up the insides of his thighs, his muscles jumping under your touch.

“Nuh-uh, eyes on me” you tut, and he sighs, eyes popping opening and locking onto yours.

“Good boy” you mumble, and the praise goes straight to his cock, length twitching when the words leave your lips.

Sliding your hands higher up his thighs, you shuffle forward a little, getting more comfortable between his them and he hisses when your hand wraps around the base of his cock.

“Ready?” You ask him, gazing up at him through your lashes and when he nods, you give him one last stroke before leaning towards him.

You run your tongue along the underside of his length before wrapping your lips around the head, and his deep brown eyes become fixated on yours, his lips parting when you flick your tongue over his tip. The taste of his pre cum coats your tastebuds and you hum around him, watching as he fights to keep his gaze on you.

You continue to tease him, revelling in the whimpers that pour from his lips every time you swipe your tongue over his slit before giving him what he wants.

Relaxing your jaw, you move your mouth further down his length, taking as much of him as you possibly can and he hisses at the sensation of his tip hitting the back if your throat.

“Oh my- fuck, Y/N” the moan of your name has butterflies erupting in your tummy, only spurring you on when you begin to bob your head, hand continuing to work what you can’t fit in your mouth.

“Feel good, Masey?” You coo, and he can only nod his head in response, unable to form a coherent sentence when you swirl your tongue around his tip.

The sinful sounds that leave his lips have you rubbing your thighs together, desperate for some sort of friction when his hand finds the back of your head. His fingers tangle into your hair, massaging over your scalp and you let him guide you, hollowing your cheeks around him when he lowers your mouth down his length.

You let it slide when his head drops back, his eyes squeezing closed when you take him all the way again. The sight of you on your knees and the feeling of your warm mouth around his cock becoming too much for him as he quickly heads towards his release.

“Gonna make me come already, Angel, oh my god” he pants, and he knows he’s done for when your other hand slides up the inside of his thigh, finding his balls.

“Come for me, Mase. I’ve got you” you coo, and with one final flick of your tongue over his tip, he’s cuming into your mouth.

You swallow every last drop, working him through his high until his hips start bucking out of sensitivity. Leaving one last kiss to his tip, you pull away from him, sitting back on your feet and resting your head against his thigh, eyes fluttering closed as you both take a moment to catch your breaths.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, the hand that’s still in your hair gently massages over your scalp and you flutter your eyes open, finding him looking down at you with a soft smile.

His hand moves to cup your jaw, thumb swiping at an escaped drop of his cum before pressing it to your lips and you part them for him, cleaning the drop off his finger when he pushes it into your mouth.

“Come here” he whispers, motioning to his lap.

His hands finds your waist when you stand on wobbly legs, your knees aching from being knelt down for too long, but you can’t bring yourself to care as he helps you lower into his lap, knees either side of him as you straddle his thighs.

“You okay?” He asks, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear and your heart flutters at the simple question.

You nod, leaning into his touch when he cups his hand over your jaw, thumb brushing across the apple of your cheek.

“I’ve missed you” His words are soft, eyes locked on yours.

“I’ve been here the whole time” you whisper, nuzzling further into his touch.

“I know, but I’ve still missed you.” He leans closer towards you as he speaks, “Missed getting to spend time alone with you, missed having you like this” He tells you, close enough now that you can feel his breath fanning over your cheek, his lips brushing yours with every word.

“I’ve missed you too” You rest your forehead against his, hands coming up to hold the back of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”

The word is barely past your lips when he presses his mouth to yours in a bruising kiss, taking you by surprise for a moment before you regain your composure, melting against him and kissing him back with just as much vigour.

His lips work in perfect sync against yours, his arms wrapping securely around your waist to pull you further into his lap and he hums into the kiss when you roll your hips over his.

Your hands find his shoulders, holding hard enough that you’re sure you’ll find little crescent shaped marks there later, but that’s the least of your concerns when his hand gravitates up your front. His warm palm cups over your boob, thumb stroking over your nipple and the feel of him toying with the hardened nub has you gasping into his mouth.

He takes the opportunity to coax his tongue between your lips, slipping it into your mouth and brushing it against yours in slow, unhurried strokes. One of your hands moves to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his hair and scratching your nails over his scalp and the way he groans into your mouth has heat heading south to your already dripping core.

You reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, whimpering when his teeth tug on your bottom lip.

“Fuck, Mase, I need you”

“You’ve got me, Angel” he mutters, drawing kisses over your jaw before dropping his head into your neck.

You sigh on top of him when he trails kisses from your shoulder to below your ear, grazing his teeth over your delicate skin and the scratch of his beard has your back arching, grip tightening in his hair when he pays attention to your most sensitive spot. He nips at the skin, lips suctioning over it and you have to remind yourself to stop him, tugging on his hair and moving his lips away to prevent a bruise forming there later.

Your lips find his again, this time a lot softer as he slides his hand down between your bodies. His warm palm cups over your centre, a faint moan leaving your lips and a groan rumbles in his throat when he feels your wetness coating his fingers.

“Fuck, angel, you’re dripping for me” he speaks against your lips and you buck into his hand, whimpering when he nudges a single finger between your folds.

“Need to feel you, Mase”

“Yeah?” He coos, and you hum in confirmation, growing more impatient by the second.

His lips come back to your neck and you take the brief moment where he’s distracted to reach down, taking his length in your hand to find him hard again as you give him a single pump. You wiggle around a little, rising on your knees to try and find a comfortable position.

It takes him a second to process what you’re doing, but he stops you with a hand on your hip before you get a chance to line him up with your entrance.

“What about y-“ he speaks, but you cut him off with another peck to his lips, shuffling in his lap and he whimpers when his length brushes against the inside of your thigh.

“Later” you reassure him, and you smile softly at the pout that forms on his lips.

You know that he probably wants nothing more than to have his head buried between your thighs right now, always so eager to make you feel good, and you’d no doubt love that too, but you know that you’re working with limited time and you’re aching to feel him inside of you.

“Promise?” He holds his hand up between your bodies, pinky sticking out towards you.

You stifle a giggle, shaking your head at him in disbelief, but you quickly link your pinky with his none the less and he leans forward to peck your lips once more.

“Are you ready?” He asks you, lips trailing over your cheek.

“Yeah”

You line him up with your entrance, bracing your hands on his shoulders and you both moan in unison when you lower yourself onto him, his tip nudging past your folds.

His hand finds your hip, thumb rubbing over your skin in soothing circles as you sink down on him, head falling into his neck and eyes fluttering closed when you take him all the way.

“Take your time, love” he hums and you give yourself a moment to adjust to him, brushing your lips over his skin until he’s cupping your cheek and pulling your head back from his neck.

You meet his eyes, the dark brown orbs staring right back at you and you swear you can see his pupils dilate, with your flushed cheeks and messy hair, lips parted and swollen, the sight of you on top of him is one he wants to remember forever.

“You okay?” He asks, thumb brushing over your lips and you nod, sending him a warm smile before slowly lifting yourself until only his tip is left inside of you.

You sink back down, moaning at the feeling of him nestled inside of you, able to feel every inch of him as you repeat the action.

“Fuck, taking me so well Angel” he drawls, and your whole body lights up at the praise.

You pick up your pace slightly, bouncing on top of him and his hands never leave your hips as he helps guide you, letting you take it at your own pace until you’re reluctantly slowing down, legs starting to feel tired.

“M-Mase” you whimper into his neck, falling limp on top of him and opting to roll your hips over his.

“I’ve got you, Angel” he whispers, lips finding your temple before he’s pulling you off of him slowly.

He takes a hold of your hips gently, lowering you to the mattress and he watches as you relax back into the sheets, head falling to the pillows as your hair spreads around you like a halo.

He parts your thighs before crawling in between them and settling his body on top of yours.

Resting his body weight on one arm, he reaches down with the other and you feel his warm palm slide up the back if your thigh, giving your bum a playful slap before hooking your leg over his waist.

“Sorry” you speak, voice quiet and small and he hates the pout that forms on your lips.

“Don’t be silly bubba, it’s okay” he whispers, lips brushing over yours.

You send him a soft smile, eyes locking onto his when he lines himself back up with your entrance. The new angle has him hitting deeper, your back arching off the mattress when he buries himself to the hilt inside of you and your moans mingle between you when he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in.

He keeps his pace slow, resting his forehead against yours as he thrusts inside of you and his tip brushes that spot that has you seeing stars.

“Fuck, Mase. Feels so good” you breath, one hand finding the back of his neck and when he notices the other clutching at the sheets, he takes it in his own, lacing his fingers with yours and holding them up beside your head.

He hooks his other arm around your waist, holding you closer to him and he hits that special spot inside of you with every thrust of his hips.

“I love you so fucking much” he growls against your lips, punctuating each word with a kiss and when you meet his eyes, they’re already gazing back at you, shining with adoration and a range of similar emotions.

“I love you too, holy shit” your voice is breathless and you send him a soft smile, sliding your hand up from his neck to the back of his head, pulling him down to place a series of pecks to his lips.

Your heart thuds at the way his eyes lock on yours. The chocolatey orbs shining with so much love as he pounds into you, able to feel every inch of him as he rolls his hips.

“Are you close?” He looks down to where your bodies meet, the way you’re clenching around him a tell tale sign that your orgasm is nearing, “Taking me so well, baby”

“Y-yes! Mase, fuck, gonna cum” you sob, eyes fluttering closed when he buries himself to the hilt inside of you.

“F-fuck” he stutters, thrusts faltering when your walls flutter around him, his own orgasm fast approaching.

“I’m there with you, angel. Let go for me” he rasps, and it only has one last push of his hips to have you toppling over the edge with a cry of his name.

Your high is overwhelming, pleasure overcoming your senses as your back arches off the mattress, pressing impossibly closer to him.

He isn’t far behind you, a moan of your name muffled into your neck when his own orgasm hits him, the feeling of your walls fluttering around him sending him toppling over the edge and he slumps on top of you, thrusts becoming sloppy as he works you both through your highs. His fingers still brushing over your clit until your bucking your hips from the sensitivity.

Your hand finds the back of his head when his thrusts slow, scratching your nails over his scalp when his body goes limp on top of yours, well and truly spent from his orgasm.

He keeps himself buried inside of you, laying in a comfortable silence with his head pressed into your neck whilst you catch your breaths and steady your heartbeats.

After a while, he moves to pull out of you slowly, littering kisses over your forehead when he notices you wincing from the sensitivity, before flopping down on to the bed beside you.

Getting himself comfy on his back, he opens his arms for you, letting you crawl into them and settle against his chest and his arms wrap around you securely, caging you to his body.

You stay laying like that for a while, enjoying the comfort and warmth of his body wrapped around yours. He has one hand on your thigh, massaging the sore muscles and the other tracing patterns over your shoulder until he’s shuffling around slightly to look down at you.

“How about another shower?” There’s a cheeky smile on his lips when you tilt your head to look up at him, “I still owe you an orgasm”

———————

I hope you enjoyed 🤭

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount concepts #mason concepts #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount fic

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gyusrose · 4 months

Text

➵ 5-star michelin -> p.js

-dm or comment to be added to taglist -

⚠︎ smut (mdni) , sprinkle of angst

✎ teacher!jay x student, slight age gap (25 & 23), jay is kinda mean, dom!jay + sub!reader, jealous!jay, praising, dirty talk

summary: achieving your dream of becoming a chef is not easy, even worse when your teacher’s always up your ass.

{btw! i don’t cook like at all so bear with me 🙏}

(non!idol jay x fem.reader)

~ late christmas + new year’s gift *ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂*ੈ✩‧₊˚

wc: 4.2k

——————————————————————————

you love the kitchen, you pretty much live there day and night. it’s no surprise to anyone that your dream job is eventually becoming a real chef. that’s why you’ve spent almost your whole life perfecting the one skill you’re good at. most of the recipes you use come from your mom. before she passed she left a whole book of recipes in it and what a hell of a good time you had with it.

it helped you cope, that’s what drove it. you feel sad? make something yummy. you feel mad? bake something nice. you feel happy? cool something delicious. your problems seemed to fade away while your cooking.

over the last year, you’ve started attending culinary school. obviously, you’re not perfect and you still need some work on your dishes but you’re not doing too bad to say the least. now though, it’s a new chapter opening for you.

you’ve been wanting to get out of your hometown for a while and move to the city as there were more opportunities down here and to your luck, you got accepted into a (very prestigious) culinary school nearby your apartment, a win-win situation.

like anyone, you were scared, scared to make new friends, scared to meet new people, scared to start from zero, a new place, a new routine. but it’s all for the better.

you sighed as you tied your apron around your waist, almost heading out the door to your first day of school. boxes were still unpacked all around your floor, it was a total mess, you literally slept on the floor last night. it was definitely not the best case scenario for a great morning but eh.

you finally caught your breath trying to calm down grabbing your tote bag and leaving your messy apartment.

the school was no more than five minutes away walking. at least you’re gonna be on time.

your entered the glass doors of the huge white building. the receptionist noticed you, you quickly showed her your ID, which they gave you during your orientation last week. she gave you a nod and you headed into the elevator, pressing the number 13.

your hands were shaking and sweaty. coming into a new school in the middle of the year has got to be the worst scenario for an introvert like you. you finally reached the room where the class will be taking place ( i genuinely don’t know what culinary school is like pls) as soon as you stepped in, all eyes were on you. including the head chef’s.

“you must be the new student right? happy first day you’re late.” one of them spoke, your cheeks couldn’t have become any redder than what they already were. you hated all the attention on you.

late? didn’t class start at 7:30? you thought.

“class started fifteen minutes ago, take a seat and catch up.” almost like he could read your mind he responded.

you muttered a low ‘sorry’ before heading onto an empty seat trying to take as much attention away from you. of course his happens to you.

you gathered all the ingredients you were told to get and set them on the table in front of you. mimicking what the other students were doing. as you weee doing that the chef came up to your side, an evident scowl noticed on his face.

it was until then you realized how handsome he was, he looked very young as well, not someone that you would expect to be a head chef. his jawline was sharper than the knife on your hand. you shook those thoughts away quickly though, he’s your teacher! what are you thinking?

“i’m just letting you know, whatever you did today can’t happen anymore, attendance is very important everyday, this is a very advanced class so you might not want to be missing any of it, got it?” even though he whispered, it felt like he was yelling at you. it was very aggressive and harsh making you flinch.

you quickly nodded, now scared of him even more. suddenly you want to change classes with another chef. finally leaving you let out a big sigh which you were holding in ever since he came over, and resumed cutting your vegetables and stir frying them.

“you need more seasoning on that, it’s too bland!” the chef, which you now you know as ‘Chef Park’ said as he tasted your chicken. you were almost sweating, from the way he speaks and acts, you felt nothing but intimidated by his presence, even more when he’s tasting your first dish for him. throughout the whole lesson today, he seemed to be only picking at you, he didn’t taste any of the other student’s food, only yours. you found it kind of irritating but tried not to think much about it.

“i’ll definitely note that chef.” you smiled at him bowing.

“ i’m expecting a lot from you, ______” he said before heading back to his space.

you were confused. why you? you’re probably the least talented person in this room right now so why you? you had so many questions but decided that maybe you just needed a good nights rest and starting packing up your stuff on your bag.

jay sighed at the empty room in front of him. it was currently 1 am, and he couldn’t find the urge to go home. he was just thinking, thinking about you.

he was the one that read your application into the school, he read your recommendation letters from your past teachers. you were put into his advanced class for a reason.

what he didn’t expect was the glory of a woman that was going to get in that door. it was as if the universe slapped his type right in front of him. that’s what he saw. how could someone look so beautiful in such a simple uniform? he also wonders that.

he can’t let down his demeanor though. yes he finds you attractive, but he can’t soften up just for you, that’s unfair to the rest of the students that have to put up with him. plus he hasn’t forgotten that he’s the teacher and you’re a student, it’s unethical for him to even be thinking of you in that way.

it’s been approximately a month since you’ve started going to this new school and to be honest, it was eating you up. chef park kept nit-picking everything you did, which honestly is what’s. teacher should do but not to that extent. you saw the way he was always looking your way when you were cooking. how he would yell at you across the room when you did something wrong ( even if other people were also doing it) it’s driving you insane to the point that you’re about to actually request for a change of teacher.

you were struggling to cook the steak to chef park’s desired temperature when you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned your head around to see a boy. if you’re not mistaken his name is jake.

“i see you’re kind of struggling with that, there’s a trick i do that always manages to cook the steak to chef’s park liking. may i?” he asked if he could touch the knobs of your stove. you nodded and he turned the heat to the maximum for a few seconds, turning the steak over on both sides while bathing it in butter , then he turned it to low heat, repeating the same action.

jay obviously noticed this and did not appreciate it. he should be happy seeing another student sharing tips with you but that wasn’t the case this time. without thinking he walked over the two of your laughing figures.

“sim! it’s very inappropriate of you to be talking with your little friend when you should be cooking..”

“oh sorry chef park. i was just giving her a hand. i thought you wouldn’t mind.”

you looked at chef park, noticing his glaring eyes on jake. is it that bad for a student to help another student out?

“well i do! back to your place.” he said not sparing you a glance while jake decided to not respond back and just gave you an apologetic smile before heading off.

“alright everyone, that would be it for today, but don’t forget that by the end of the semester you’re gonna have to cook something of your own, impress me okay? “

as students left you decided to have a word with the chef, wanting to know if he just truly just didn’t like you or if he had a problem with you being here, so you could change chefs.

there was another girl talking to him before you. he acted so different with her, so respectful, kind and smiley. his face sours up every time he’s talking with you, so you barely see him smile and you almost melted at it.

“is there a problem miss ______?”

you jumped out of your other world and looked at him. suddenly feeling shy. you felt your confidence slip away as he was now looking straight at you, waiting for you to speak.

“ well-uh i’ve been noticing how harsh you’re on me compared to the other students, did i do something to cause that?”

jay was taken aback from your straightforwardness, but he responded either way.

“ you just need more toughness out on you _____, do you want to be mediocre?” he was lying through his teeth. jay knew you were if anything, the best of the class, he couldn’t just say that out loud.

you on the other hand, were crushed. was mediocre all he saw in you? have you been lied to by your other teachers?

“ is the yelling necessary though ? there’s way to effectively communicate without yelling.” you hated being yelled at. every time someone raised their voice at you, tears would just fall like a waterfall. thankfully, you’ve managed to hold in your tears during class so chef hasn’t seen you cry.

“are you questioning my teaching skills now? “

shit. now you offended him.

“n-no that’s not what i meant, i just-“

“you don’t think i’m a good teacher ?” he said getting up closer to you, pretty much standing inches in front of you. suddenly you felt your heartbeat fasten.

“i d-do chef, i just kind of find it unfair?” you said, trying to not stutter all your words.

jay smirked, now standing less than a feet in front of you, grabbing your chin and holding it up, making you look straight at him. jay could definitely see your rosy cheeks that you were so embarrassedly trying to hide.

“am i making you nervous miss _____?” you only gulped, you didn’t even know what to respond to that, even though it was bluntly obvious based on your state right now.

the both of you didn’t say anything for a moment, the two just stared at each other, waiting for one to make a move first.

you don’t know exactly where you got the guts to actually make the move. you engulfed your chef into a suffocating kiss. the kiss itself was enough to show how much y’all were yearning for each other. jay was dying to do this ever since he laid his eyes on you, but you on the other hand, didn’t know how much you actually wanted to do this until now. sure you found him handsome and smart and literally perfect but you never expected for him to think of you the same way to the point we’re he’s actually kissing you back and heating up the kiss you once started. his tongue grazed over your lip. his hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you closer, melting into his embrace. your lips tasted so sweet, jay felt insatiable.

both of you forgot about the fact that this was very much not allowed. the world ceased to exist to exist at that moment. there were no boundaries, no constraints, just the two of you.

jay’s hand traveled down further and further, now down to your ass, giving it a light squeeze. the small action made you moan into his lips. even though your eyes were closed, you could feel him smirking at you.

your own hands travelled along his broad shoulders, down his shoulders. once again, confidence shot through you. your fingertips found their way to his belt buckle, about to undo it when his fingers wrapped around your wrist. stopping your movements.

“see you next class.” that’s all he said before gathering his things and leaving you there. high and dry.

that’s when you woke up. realizing what you were about to do, more like who you were about to do it with.

embarrassed. that’s what you were. he could literally lose his job what were you thinking?!

you let out a shaky sigh and left the empty room. all you need right now is a hot shower and sleep, you need to forget this ever happened. the worse thing is that tomorrow you still have to face him in class.

you knew showing up in the classroom that the two of you almost fucked in yesterday was going to be hard to show your face in. although no one noticed you, you just felt exposed. you refused to make eye contact with jay the whole time. jay definitely noticed this right away. he felt kind of bad in leaving you like that, but he knew that if he stayed there a little longer, he wouldn’t have controlled himself. he did think though, you looked kind of cute all shy and red, avoiding his eyes the whole class.

he took matters to his hands and approached you for the first time today, which was odd since he would’ve already yelled at you for something at this point.

“what are you working on miss ______?” his voice startled you, not even noticing he walked over to you.

“ just finishing the sauce for this.” you shortly said looking down at your food. jay’s stare didn’t leave your face once. and you could feel it very much. it felt hard to breathe at that moment. you have no doubt your face is boiling at his simple presence.

“ look at me when i’m speaking to you.” you didn’t want to. but he was still your teacher and the last thing you want to be is disrespectful so you looked at him. and god you wished you didn’t. those brown eyes have a world of its own. you found yourself staring at him shamelessly, forgetting he was speaking to you.

“are you even listening?” of course you weren’t yet you nodded assuringly.

“great then see you friday night.” you nodded but it took you a moments to realize what he said.

friday night? for what? this is what you get for daydreaming. embarrassingly, you asked him what he meant after you just told him you were listening to what he was saying.

jay chuckled and shook his head at your lie. “ i said if you were coming to the dinner i have set up for the class, since christmas is coming. and you responded yes, so you better be there miss ______.” he said with a smirk, palming your cheek. your eyes widened at his move. you looked around to see if anyone noticed, to your relief no one did as they were too focused on their food. “someone could’ve seen!” you whisper-shouted your chef. he just rolled his eyes and said “ just be there on friday, i have a gift for you.”

the last thing he said before walking away. you were left dumbfounded. what did any of that mean? you didn’t notice that you’ve doesn’t about 10 minutes just standing there thinking until you smelt something burning.

“your meat is overdone _____!!!” jake told you walking up to you turning the stove off.

shit.

you weren’t the one to like social events much. as a teenager, you barely went out with your friends. you were a proud nerd. always focused on school, that’s how you were thought to be, which explains how you’ve only made one friend (jake) ever since been here for months. now you’re gonna be forced to socialize for a whole evening.

you weren’t unprepared thankfully. you brought a couple of classy dresses with you, you could imagine that things like these were gonna happen. you eventually decided on a white silk dress. it was elegant yet comfortable for you. not too short or not too long as well. you decided to not do anything special with your hair and let it down.

you suddenly felt the urge to not go. the last person you want to see is your chef. you don’t see the point of going yet you kept doing your makeup, you just want to change into your pyjamas and lay in bed all night. a ding in your phone caught your attention, revealing a text message from jake.

-I’m here

it seemed like you have to go now. quickly you gathered your things and left your lot.

jay kept waiting and waiting. you was all he was waiting on. a bunch of people kept coming up and talking to him but he didn’t care. girls showed up trying to impress him, but nothing. he wanted you to come up to him, impress him.

what he didn’t expect is you coming in with some company. jake was obviously invited but not as your date, he thought. he could see his hand on your back as he said a few sorry’s for being late due to traffic. jay couldn’t focus on anything but you. what the fuck was jake saying to make you laugh so hard. was that on purpose? to see how he would react? jay couldn’t tell. it didn’t help how beautiful you looked tonight, more than usual. that fucker doesn’t get your beauty like he does.

the whole night jay kept quiet. stealing glances towards you and jake. when someone talked to him he kept his reposes dry. for a moment he could swear you stared at him.

jay didn’t miss when you stood up to go to the bathroom. he obviously took this opportunity to talk to you, if it wasn’t right now then it was never.

you left the bathroom, as a soon as you turned around, you were encaged. your breath hitched seeing who it was.

“c-chef?”

“oh please don’t act all innocent _____, i know what you’re trying to do.”

“i’m sorry..? i don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“coming in here with jake, wearing such tight dress showing off just enough to make me go crazy. do you realize how much power you have over me hm?”

you didn’t know what to respond to that. deep down you loved the way you made him feel. it was planned, at all, but it felt nice knowing how much little effort had an effect on him.

“ it’s not my fault that’s the way you think jay.” honourifics dropped. jay wasn’t expecting that response from you. the alcohol running through your blood was showing at the moment.

jay grabbed your neck and pulled you into a heated kiss. unlike your first kiss, this one was emerged in lust. both of your tongues entangled with each other. your hands rummaged through his hair pulling him closer to you.

all it took was a simple “wanna get out of here?” from jay for you to weaken in the knees, allowing your full submission to him.

“fuck jay, right ther-shit!” so much happened in the last thirty minutes, nothing could’ve prepared you to be eaten out by your teacher at that time.

you don’t even know how jay didn’t crash the car while driving to his house and completely stripping you in seconds. he ate your pussy like he’s been starving for months (which he was) your eyes rolled back, pulling his hair, engulfing him into you, wrapping your legs around his neck. jay was in fucking bliss.

“shit baby, you’re such a mess, so fucking sensitive.” he said pulling away from your cunt, earning a whine from you.

“such a desperate little brat. tell me, what do you want baby.” he said caressing your lips. you couldn’t stop biting them. from your angle, you could see everything of him. his sharp eyes staring down at you, his biceps, his chest, his abs, fuck you could cum right there.

“fuck me jay, i want you to use me.” unlike other instances, you didn’t break eye contact making him moan before grabbing your thighs and spreading them around his pelvis. your core was dying for his cock, it was noticible from how swollen it was.

jay rubbed his head along your folds before looking up at you for reassurance. you nodded, desperate written all over your face.

the first thrust in you was insane. the stretch felt like he was ripping up your insides. it was painful, a good type of pain. “fuck you’re so fucking big jay.” jay only groaned. he couldn’t even say anything, this was better than anything he could ever imagine.

once he was fully in he started to move in and out of your core, grabbing your waist, feeling himself in you. the crude sounds coming out of the both of you echoed throughout the house. jay’s hands played with your tits while you grabbed his waist, making sure he stays inside you as much possible.

“shit you’re so tight, that’s pussy’s all mine ain’t it?” his hand left your tits and started rubbing your clit while his thrusts turned very hostile you couldn’t even form words from the immense amount of pleasure.

“yes yes, it’s all your baby.”

jay didn’t think it could get better than this, but it did.

he flipped you over, now on all-fours, back arched. not wasting any time in fucking you from behind. he groped your ass, leaving his hand marks all over them.

you were about to explode when a ring could be heard, more specifically from your phone. you looked over it on the night stand seeing ‘jake’ displayed on the screen. shit you completely forgot that you just left him at the restaurant. you could call him back lat-

“answer it.” jay said from behind you sternly, fucking you even deeper.

“i don’t think i ca-“

“answer the fucking phone, it must be important.” as much as he didn’t like jake, it turned him on the way you could barely breath let alone speak while he’s fucking you restlessly.

you could barely talk but you managed to grab the phone and answer it, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“ sorry jake, i just wasn’t-hmp feeling well.” your hand went over your mouth to stop you from moaning into the phone. jay was just laughing in the background at your state right now.

“yea yea i-i’m so sorry, have f-fun though.” you nodded at his last sentence before hanging up and glaring at jay from behind you.

“fuck you!” you said then slamming your head into the pillow letting out muffled moans.

“i’m quite literally doing that baby.” you rolled your eyes in pleasure and annoyance. your orgasm was very close, even jay could feel the way you clench around him.

“fuck i’m cumming, so fucking close.” your weak voice said .

jay was on the same boat, he would’ve cum way earlier but it just felt so damn good, he wanted to treasure every moment.

“me too baby, c’mon cum all over my dick, do it baby.” that’s exactly what you did. your body twitched at the sudden feeling. your body going limp.

jay was also on edge, with a few more thrust he pulled out of you and came all over your back moaning in the process.

after the two of you balanced your breathing, jay laid next to you caressing your hair, the both of you were just giggling like little kids.

“so this was the gift you were talking about?”

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theemporium · 7 months

Note

idk if you’ve seen it but there’s a trend on TikTok of playing a voicemail of a creepy guy in front of your boyfriend and I feel like brothers bff!reader would have to literally console quinn after trying that prank on him. boy would be murderous.

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

It was just meant to be a prank.

A friend had sent you it, laughing at the compilation of reactions the video included to the fake voicemail. It was entertaining seeing how these men reacted differently, or seeing how many of them instantly became protective of the woman in their life who played the fake voicemail.

You thought it looked fun to try out.

It was some random week in October when you decided to fly out and spend some time with Quinn. It was reading week back in college and you had worked pretty well at staying on top of your classes, so you deserved the treat to fly out and spend some time with your boy.

And other than the practices Quinn had to attend, he was practically glued to your side the rest of the week which made it easy to pull off the prank on a Thursday morning when you were sitting on the counter as Quinn made you both coffee.

“Oh god.”

“What’s wrong?” Quinn asked, his back still facing you but the disgusted scoff gave him a clear understanding that you weren’t happy.

“Nothing, just an annoying lab partner,” you murmured, pressing your lips together to try and hold back your giggles. “I think he left me a voicemail.”

Quinn didn’t get much of a chance to say anything before the voicemail started. You watched him closely, the way his actions paused as he began to listen.

“This is the final chance I am giving you. You are being ridiculous, and like most women, not thinking logically. Consider this your last chance to put your emotions aside and think with your brain.”

The coffee was abandoned in seconds as Quinn whirled around, looking at you with an expression mixed between shock and disgust. He placed his hands on the counter, stepping towards you as he continued to listen to the voicemail.

“I am a good guy, one of the best you are going to find. So, I suggest you stop playing this hard-to-get game because nobody is believing you. You won’t find anyone better than me, not at college and not in bed. I have reservations for Friday night at the Italian place off campus. I expect you there and—”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Quinn gritted out between clenched teeth, a disgruntled scoff leaving his lips as he reached for his phone. “Give me a name.”

You blinked, almost surprised by the expression on his face. You didn’t think you had ever seen Quinn so angry before, not even on the ice.

“A name,” Quinn repeated as he looked over towards you, eyes darkened and jaw clenched. “That is…he’s a fucking pervert. And a creep. I don’t want him near you. I don’t want him in the fucking college.”

“Quinn—” you started, but he was lost to his own anger now.

“I’m gonna make sure he’s kicked out and sent somewhere far fucking away from you. Better yet, we can get a restraining order,” he continued as he scrolled through his phone, his eyebrows furrowed together as he searched for something. “I don’t want you going back with him just walking around. Does Luke even know? Does anyone—”

“Quinn,” you said again, a little louder this time as you rounded the counter to gently take ahold of his hands. You slowly pried the phone from his hands, a sheepish expression on your face. “He isn’t real.”

He frowned. “What? Babe, you don’t have to protect him—”

“I’m not protecting anyone, Quinn, I—” You took a deep breath before you continued. “It was a prank I saw on Tiktok. People were posting their partner’s reactions and I thought it would be funny.”

“Oh,” was all Quinn seemed to say.

“I’m sorry—” But you cut yourself off when he launched towards you, wrapping you in a tight hug as he clung onto you. Your arms automatically wrapped around his torso, nuzzling yourself further into his chest.

“You’d tell me if something like that was really happening, right?” Quinn murmured against the top of your head.

“Of course,” you answered honestly.

“Good,” he said with a small sigh, his arms tightening around you. “I’d kill any fucker that makes you uncomfortable.”

You snorted. “It was kinda hot seeing you get all protective.”

“I’m glad you think as much because even though I know it’s fake, my body hasn’t caught on yet so I am not letting you go for the next hour,” Quinn murmured, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

“I have no issue with that,” you replied honestly, biting back your own grin as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

#quinn hughes #nhl #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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pia-nor481 · 4 months

Text

Empty Bed Part Two

Lando Norris x reader smut

3.5k words. Part One

"What's up with you?" Max asked, worried about his friend's pouting. Lando was angry and upset. He knows this is how hook up culture is supposed to be, have sex and leave before anything gets awkward, yet that's not what he wanted. Its sad that he wanted her, even now, weeks after their last encounter. "Nothing serous, just jet lagged." His reply was a bit harsh and also the truth at the same time. It was the penultimate race of the season and the stress was beginning to affect more than usual, he was far too frustrated, not just psychologically but sexually. "If you say so." He felt Max's hand make contact with his shoulder as he walked past, heading to the red bull garage. Lando walked towards his drivers room and put up a rather convincing smile. Free practice wasn't particularly fun for Lando, he liked the thrill of the race, but he couldn't feel that if he was focused on collecting data. He let out a loud sigh as he lent against the closed door, finally alone. It felt good to be in his own presence.

He pulled the orange shirt over his head to replace it with a black fire proof. "Woah, what animal attacked you?" Daniel laughed out, seeing his friend's shocked face. "You were so happy the morning after, maybe you need to get laid more often." The scratches on Lando's waist were still visible, a reminder for him, a reminder of her. "You're one to talk, that girl in your lap seemed pretty blissed out." He shook his, Lando was shocked that Daniel took the risk of fucking some girl in such a public place. "Well I know how to fuck. By the red on your hip, I can guess you can too." Daniel flashed his signature grin while loosening his suit. "Can I be honest?" Lando paused, looking back at his friend, who's expression changed in the blink of an eye. "Always." Lando let out a relived sigh, he already felt better. "How do you do it? I don't get how you can fuck a girl and move on so quickly, as if nothing happened." Lando looked away mid-sentence, feeling almost ashamed, reaching for the rest of his clothes. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can't just forget, unless I'm that drunk. But still, it's not something you should hold onto, especially if you're not going to see her again." Daniel said sincerely, he was stunned that Lando would say such a thing. "Is it really bothering you that much?"

Lando had to pause, he didn't know what to do. They didn't have the same level of friendship that Daniel had with Max, or Lando with Carlos. Yet he almost felt bashful at the thought of discussing this with anyone else. "I just... Felt so drawn to her. It doesn't make any sense to me. I was just looking to fuck, but everything about her... It just felt more than that. She joked with me, and it was actually funny, she was so gorgeous too; Perfect even. She didn't even know who I was, yet she was in a F1 afterparty. You know how you can tell if they actually know you or not." He said it all in one breath, and so, was practically gasping for air. "I'm guessing she is good in bed too?" Lando's head shifted to the side in a look of disappointment. "Yes, but that's not the important part." He said, zipping up his race suit. "I get how important this is to you, I do, but you can't dwell on it, you need to focus on racing, thinking about a girl, no matter how perfect, that you're not going to see again, isn't gonna get you on the podium." Daniel grabbed Lando's shoulders, rather firm, and looked in his eyes as he spoke. "Alright."

While Lando was in the car he didn't dare think of her, but when he was in his new hotel room, she consumed all of his thoughts. So while he was buttoning up a white shirt, he couldn't help but feel down, he was exhausted, not just from the race. Lando practically dragged his feet along the floor to wards the door, wishing he didn't have to go out and celebrate another podium, he had to celebrate someone else's win. As he begun tying his shoes, he could hear the banging of a fist on the hotel door. "Give me a sec." He shouted back, rushing towards the door. "Hey." It was Daniel at the door, adorning his usual smile. "It's only 10, there is no rush." Lando said, looking down at his watch, before reaching for his phone and room card, and slipping them into his pocket. "I know, but I don't know whether or not I should get plastered with you or let you run off with some girl." Daniel said, hooking his arm around the younger's neck. "Too soon man. What if i went off with another girl, You'd stop me?" Lando said with a bit of bite, shifting his gaze towards the other man. "Well no, I'm just trying to look after you man." Guilt immediately ran through his body, Daniel was trying to be helpful, and was more than likely doing the right thing. "Sorry, I'm just all over the place. This season has been hard, and you know the rest." Daniel patted his back before giving a reply, "We'll sort it out, mate, lets just focus on tonight, we can deal with everything tomorrow." Lando cracked a smile, "While we're hung over?" Their pace quickened as the approached the outside of the club. "Absolutely."

The loud music and lack of air sent a wave of pleasure through Lando's body, it felt so good to be in such an environment. There was always skin to skin contact, and it just felt so amazing. Lando felt a girl lean back, further into him, he was already a few drinks deep, but he was still capable of making good, enough, decisions. His hands quickly found her hips, but she didn't feel the same. However, that didn't stop him. He wanted to feel this close with someone, and she was more than willing; until her friend called her over. He was left on his own again, Daniel was still in the club, most likely in the bathroom. "I'll be back in a bit mate." He made it seem as though he was stepping out for some fresh air, but Lando quickly noticed him gravitating towards a woman, the same one he saw Daniel with last week. He didn't let that ruin his mood as he struggled to make way to the bar. As soon as he reached the table, the volume of the music seemed to fall slightly, he waited for a while, and in doing so he looked around, observing the people around him. Until he saw her hair, her skin, everything about her, it was hard for him to not recognise. "Can I have a vodka with full fat coke and a rum with diet coke please."

He walked over to her as quick as possible, placing his drink on the bar, and began dancing his fingers over her arm, she didn't even flinch "Found any attractive men to chat up?" She could feel his breath against her ear, he was speaking at a normal volume, knowing she could not hear him over the music otherwise. "I have now." Lando was so ecstatic that she was flirting back. He handed her the drink and she opened her mouth to speak, he noticed the glitter in her lip gloss and made a mental note that it needed to be smudged later. "Rum and diet coke." He sated simply and she smiled before taking a sip. "Thank you." He was shocked she was staying so formal, not formal per say, but you wouldn't expect some one you had a one night stand with to be appreciative of a drink. "What are you doing here, Lando?" As she spoke, his eyes travelled over her whole body, first he noticed the white sunglasses atop her head, then the glitter and blush covering her cheeks. "I could ask you the same thing, baby." She leaned closer to him, almost as if she was longing for his presence. "One of my friends... she really like sports and is watching these races, but she hates travelling alone, so I decided to come with her." It took a while for Lando to acknowledge that her friend was a formula one fan. He was too focused on her body, last time he saw her, she was wearing a white mesh top, this time it was a pink bra, covered in gems and glitter, and it just looked so good on her. "Tell me then, why are you here?" He grabbed her hip, feeling the material of her mesh skirt against his skin, he wanted her as close as possible. "Would you believe me if i said, my friend brought me here so he could go looking for a girl he hooked up with?" It wasn't a lie, but wasn't quite the truth. "Are you sure the name of your friend is not 'Lando'?" She laughed lightly, sipping her drink, hiding behind the glass once again. "I promise, only because his name is Daniel, you could ask him, but I don't think we will be seeing him tonight." She placed the empty glass on the bar and slid her hands up his chest, her touch was electrifying. "I'm sorry, I had to take your clothes, I couldn't leave in what I was wearing." His hands travelled over her back and down under her skirt, squeezing her ass lightly. "It's okay, you can keep it." He pulled her into a desperate and deep kiss. It lasted for what felt like hours. The skin on skin, the music, the alcohol, it all felt euphoric. "Come on, before I fuck you right here."

His hands never left her body, a firm grip around her waist, a reminder almost. Just as they made it out of the club their eyes immediately met, she was looking at him for a direction. "I've not got my hotel key." He almost whispered out. Lando claimed to have left it behind when Daniel knocked on the door; this also gave them an excuse to go back to her room, he knew she wouldn't disappear like last time. "Come on then." it come out more of a moan than a huff of annoyance. She practically pulled him down the road towards her hotel, to say Lando was shocked by the building was understatement. She kept a tight grip on him as they walked up the stairs, Lando was looking shamelessly up her skirt, not that the sheer fabric was hiding much. As soon as she reached the top step she pulled him into a rough kiss and almost moaned into his mouth, just feeling him riled her up. "Please, Lando." Her words were left in the air as he took the key from her hand and opened the door as quickly as possible "Come here, babe, need you so bad."

She chased his voice to the bed, she needed him just as much, but couldn't verbalise it. So she decided it would be best to swing herself over his lap and cover his neck in glittery red marks. In the process lando slid his hands up her back slowly, teasing not just her, but himself. She began to suck harder and bite slightly, tugging his skin between her teeth. "Fuck, babe." His breath got caught in his throat at the feeling. Lando didn't expect to her to do such a thing, especially with how he was the last time they were together, he was shocked that she was acting more demanding; so he trailed his hand up to her top, his fingers quickly hooked around the clasp of the bra, he pulled it far from her skin, and smiled at the thud of it back against her skin. She let out a loud whine, not anticipating the feeling. "Behave." She nodded quickly, not expecting to get chastised. Lando placed his hand under her ass and hoisted her up, turning around to gently place her on the edge of the bed, hands slowly and softly running his fingers along the outside of her thigh. She reached up and gripped his collar, pulling him lower. "Don't tease me."

"Or what?" He replied back in a flirty manner. As she felt his fingers against her underwear she gasped, he pushed her skirt up, not before admiring the pink butterflies on the mesh, he'd waited so long for this so he couldn't waste a minute. Lando grabbed her hips harshly and pulled her body closer to his. "I can stop right here, if you want." He pushed her underwear to the side and lowered his head. "No please, Lando please." She would feel him smirk against her skin as soon as she started speaking. He licked up against her cunt before focusing on her clit; he kitten licked at first, ignoring her pleas, then circling quickly, enjoying the noises she let out. He continued to abuse her clit and lightly teased her slit with one hand, the other pressing down lightly on her abdomen. He was paying more attention to her now, really trying to discover what made her feel good. Although it had only been a few weeks since they were together, Lando couldn't stop thinking about her. He felt guilty, he replayed that night in his head over and over, and he felt awful for not paying enough attention to her. When you hook up with someone you are not really there for the other person's pleasure, Lando wanted do change that. He thrusted his fingers slow, not rushing, he wanted to enjoy this, he wanted her to feel good. As he moved his fingers in a 'come here' motion she pushed her hips closer to him desperately, "Harder?" his eyes didn't leave her for a second, he wouldn't forget this, he couldn't miss the look on her face. "Faster." She barely said, out of breath from moaning so much. As soon as the words left her mouth, he was following the instruction, she was quivering slightly as he hands mad a home in his hair, tugging on it lightly, feeling him groan into her, adding to her pleasure. "Be good." Lando began to suck on her clit lightly, he wanted a reaction and that's what he got. She was practically singing a song for him. The hand that was resting on her abdomen travelled back towards her thigh, slipped under her knee. He lifted her leg up higher, her calf now resting against his back, forcing her thighs further apart, giving him more space. Her voiced echoed throughout the room as he sped up the movement of his tongue and fingers. "That's it babe, cum for me." The wave of pleasure that washed over her took her vision temporarily, white covered her vision as she came. She was on cloud nine and Lando didn't stop his attack.

When he came up from between her thighs he had a satisfied smile on his face, when they made eye contact the smile turned into a grin of joy. She moved back on the bed slightly, a blissed out look on her face still, Lando very quickly noticed the wet patch on the bed as he got up from his knees and got on the bed; unbuttoning his shirt in the process. He kissed up her abdomen slowly, leaving marks across her whole body, biting down in the manner she did prior. "Don't whine, its only fair." He laughed out, opening her legs once again. She gave him a pointed look, yet he just gave her one back, he wanted to be in control, and he got what he wanted. "Please." Her pleas fell upon deaf ears as he just continued to tease; he ran the tip of his cock up and down her cunt, focusing on her clit more often than not. He enjoyed teasing her, he felt as though he deserved it. Lando squeezed his cock lightly, he needed to feel some form of release, the pressure already building up. She took hold of his arm aggressively with a firm grip, knuckles turning white. He pushed in slow, just like before, not wanting to over stimulate her so soon after one orgasm. "That's it." Her eyes rolled back as soon as he started speaking, yet he couldn't look away, she was just so captivating, he wished he could say such a thing, but he could not, not in a situation like this. He began thrusting slowly and softly, more sensual than before. Lando gradually sped up, knowing it was something she liked, his hands wouldn't leave her body for more than a second, his hands would be dancing on her skin as a form of comfort. "Fuck, please." He liked to hear her beg, it felt like an exclusive sound, he didn't think anyone had fucked her, it was just a feeling, until he realised how quickly he made her cum. Lando pulled her legs around his waist, allowing him to her her deeper, "Oh yes." Lando wasn't quiet, she was just beyond loud, and his just got him impossibly harder. "Good girl, be good for me." Once of his hands left her him to slide down to her clit, rubbing fast circles; she could feel his touch all through out her body, every nerve sending signals felt like an overload. Her orgasm hit her hard, pelvis lifting up higher than Lando had already positioned it. She let out a choked whine as she felt Lando pulsating, all he felt was euphoria when he was with her, but this was on another level. Rope after rope of cum left his cock in pleasure, his head fell into the crook of her neck as he groaned, waves of pleasure still washing over him.

She winced as he pulled out, pushing her underwear back in place, he grabbed her neck softly, pulling her closer to him, he wanted to kiss her, he didn't want to beg, he still needed control, he didn't want to swallow his pride, her hands slid up his back and into the base of his hair, tugging so she could catch her breath. "Careful." He felt the need to remind her. "Promise." She smiled, smirked is a better adjective for the blissed out look on her face. Lando pulled back the cover of the bed, slipping under it with her, he kissed her neck softly as she slowly began to drift off, he inter locked their hands when he slid his arm over her waist. His eyes began to close as her breathing finally regulated.

When his eyes opened again, it was because of the morning light slipping through the hotel curtains. Lando's mind was still fuzzy. He tried to sit up but quickly realised his pounding headache was from alcohol, then all memories came running through his mind, then a wave of panic. He turned to the side a quickly as possible, noticing no one was in his arms. She was gone. He ran his hand over the mattress and noticed it was cold, disappointment flooded his whole body, and so he felt lethargic; Until he realised that they had come back to her hotel room last night, a smile crept up on his face as he sat up. The thought of having a long conversation, with out too much flirting, was his first thought. Until he saw his hoodie, the one she stole the first night together. He assumed she would have been wearing it, or at least taken it home before flying out for this trip, but no, it was folded neatly on the counter in front of the bed. Lando, finally, built up the courage to get out o the bed, and saw that her suitcase was gone, so were her shoes, so was she.

He was, once again, left in an empty bed.

Masterlist

There was a lot of struggle in trying to finish this (things not saving and paragraphs randomly deleting because reasons) but I seem to repel technology. If I’ve made any spelling mistakes let me know.

#f1 x reader #f1 x reader smut #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 fic #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc #lando norris x fem!reader

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chubbyreaderwriter · 3 months

Text

Play House Pt 2

Dandy Mott x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Imagine: Dandy always makes you play House with him whenever you visit.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smut

Part 1 Masterlist

The LONGGGG awaited Part 2!!

It had been two peaceful weeks since the last time you had seen Dandy and you couldn’t get him out of your head. Every night in your dreams, the scene of what might have happened had you not been interrupted played in your mind. Your feelings were conflicted and you didn’t want to return to that house until you knew what you wanted. With every single call to your home, you regretted being nice to him more and more. He demanded you to return to him, offering more and more money to your mother. You knew she needed it but she declined because of your wishes. But she had run out of excuses for you now and you had to go back.

Your mother drove you once more towards the house much grander than your own and you felt nervous. Dandy had always been unpredictable but you were worried how he would act with you now. The car had stopped but you still hadn’t got out yet. Your mother turned to you, “It’s just one night, what’s the worst that can happen. I’ll make sure to come by as early as I can to pick you up, okay?” You didn’t respond, just nodded in agreement and stepped out, hesitantly walking up to the door as you heard your mother’s car driving away. You lightly knocked on the door, looking down at your feet as you waited for someone to answer.

Dandy’s mother opened it this time and she looked relieved to see you, “Oh thank goodness, Dandy has been having one of his tantrums today and I just know that seeing you will put him in a good mood.” Before you could even say hello, she dragged you inside and closed the door, calling out, “Dandy, come look who’s here.” You heard a thud and then a door being opened and Dandy’s voice replying, “I don’t care mother, leave me alone.” His mother, not wanting to spoil the surprise, continued, “But she’s come all this way, just to see you dear.” You heard heavy footsteps as if he was stomping his way over to the stairs where he could see you standing next to his mother.

Almost instantly, his whole demeanour changed and he perked up. He practically ran down the stairs, excitement on his face, then anger, turning to his mother, “Why didn’t you tell me she was coming, I needed time to prepare.” His mother stuttered but Dandy ignored her in favour of taking your hand and leading you upstairs towards his room. The doors to his playroom were open as you were dragged past it and you saw everything was tipped over and thrown all over the floor. Dandy opened his bedroom door and was only too happy to pull you in and lock the door behind you. He turned to you, a strange smile on his face, “Oh, it has been far too long, hasn’t it.” You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t think of anything to say. Your mind was reeling from what had just happened within the span of the last 2 minutes and how you’d gone so quickly from being safe outside the doors to being trapped in Dandy’s bedroom once again with no ways of escaping until early morning.

If Dandy was agitated by your lack of response, he didn’t show it, seemingly all too content with just having you back in his presence once more. He stayed close to you, keeping you cornered against the wall, his hands pressed flat either side of your waist to stop you from moving away. He leaned his face in close and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your neck. Your chest rose and fell quicker than normal, your nerves getting the better of you. Dandy seemed to be entranced by the movement of your breasts rising upwards, having them spilling out over the top of your corset style dress that was tapered in at the waist and layers of soft fabric flowed over the curve of your hips and down past your knees to your mid calf. It was a modest dress with short puff sleeves and one your mother had bought you for your birthday last year. It seemed wearing it was a mistake as Dandy slowly licked his bottom lip, eyes slowly raking over your plump form, “Such a delightful body, I wanna see what it looks like underneath it all.” He grinned and your eyes widened, “N-now hold on a minute Dandy, you have to charm a lady first.” You were panicking, you weren’t the type of girl who just went about stripping for the first guy who asked. Dandy raised a confused eyebrow, “But darling, I’ve already charmed you, you’re my wife remember and we need to make a baby to start playing a proper game of house don’t we?”

You let out a nervous laugh and raised your hand, “But Dandy if I’m your wife I would have a wedding ring and since there is no ring on my finger, I can’t play the role of your wife. A-and it would be improper to engage in such activities before marriage, wouldn’t you agree?” Dandy said nothing but his brow was furrowed and you wondered if you had perhaps pushed your luck with his seemingly bipolar personality. He sighed and pushed himself back away from you, smoothing his hair back with his hand, “Hm I suppose you’re right, wait here, I’ll be back in a moment.” He walked out of the room and headed down the corridor into another room. You stood still for a moment wondering whether it would be worth it to try and leave but your thoughts drifted back to your mother and how much she needed this money. Your father had passed away a few years ago and ever since your mother had been struggling to make ends meet for the two of you, even with both of you working. If you did as you were told and stayed the night, Mrs Mott had promised your mother a lot of money to compensate for your company. As much as you found him insufferable, you knew there was worse situations to be in, so you decided you’d suck it up and deal with it for your mother.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of shoes clicking on the marble floor outside. Dandy re-entered the room with his hands behind his back. You moved away from the wall and Dandy took your left hand into his, keeping his other behind his back. He had a large grin on his face, the sight of which stirred up your nerves as you could only imagine what he had planned that would make him so giddy. He bounced forward on his feet and giggled to himself, placing a soft kiss on the back of your hand as he went down onto one knee, bringing up his other hand to show off a small navy blue velvet covered box. You couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping your mouth at the sight of it, putting two and two together. Your right hand came up to place itself on your chest, as if you could try to stop your heart from racing on the outside. You swallowed as Dandy let go of your hand to open the box, revealing a very beautiful ring inside of it. You couldn’t deny that it was a lovely ring and it looked incredibly expensive, “Oh my, Dandy I-”

Dandy grinned at your reaction, mistaking your nervousness for excitement, “I know dear, nothing but the best for my darling wife.” He took the ring out of the box and placed it upon your ring finger, his grip was firm enough you didn’t dare attempt to pull your hand away from him. As Dandy stood up, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from your hand, the ring felt a bit tight on your finger but not uncomfortably so, perhaps you just weren’t used to wearing much jewellery as you couldn’t afford to buy real gold and silver. As you lifted your hand to look at the ring, you noticed the ring band held small diamonds all around it as well as the main stone which was a soft oval shape. Your words caught in your throat as your mouth gaped, your finger held probably a years worth of rent right then. Your eyes drifted back to Dandy who was staring at you with a huge grin on his face, his hands clasped behind his back, seemingly very pleased with your reaction, “I knew you’d love it, though still not as beautiful as you, my love.”

“Oh Dandy, this is too much, especially for a game,” if possible, Dandy’s grin only widened, “Well that’s just it, I don’t want to play a game anymore. I want you as my betrothed, picture it, my darling wife.”

Your eyes felt as though they were going to pop out of their sockets, you were in such disbelief, ‘what is happening?!’ you thought to yourself. “You can’t possibly be serious, I’m no one, we just played together a few times as kids! You want me to be your wife? You could have anyone why me?!” From the sudden anger in Dandy’s eyes, you wondered if you’d perhaps said the wrong thing. Dandy took a single step closer, but it was enough to close the distance between you. You didn’t dare to open the gap again in fear of riling him up further. Dandy looked over your face, his hand coming up to lightly brush the back of his knuckles over your cheek. “I don’t have to explain myself, I want you my dear and I will do everything in my power to have you. I would give you everything you desired.” Your heart was sure to thump its way out of your chest, you couldn’t believe this was happening to you. Before you could think of a response, he continued, “There’s something different about you, you’re not like other people, you’re special. You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, the best woman a man could wish for and I deserve nothing but the best. I will settle for no one else.”

Your cheeks flushed as he spoke, he was so passionate about this, about you. His words were genuine and you couldn’t deny the warm feeling you felt in your stomach from the way he spoke so fiercely about you. Your brain was unable to form a competent reply and so in the heat of the moment, spurred on by his declaration of affection, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. Your kiss was soft and gentle, your hand lightly pressed on his broad chest. You slowly pulled away, eyes opening to watch out for Dandy’s response wondering if you had made the worst mistake of your life. You couldn’t help it though. In all your years, you’d never heard someone, much less a handsome man, talk about you with such desire, such passion. You couldn’t deny, it moved you and you felt like he deserved some kind of reward for that at least. Dandy seemed to be frozen until his eyes slowly opened, his brown hues alight with a deep fire. Your mouth opened with the intention of asking if he was alright but you were interrupted by his hands cupping the sides of your face, pulling you towards him for a much deeper kiss, his tongue seeking out yours for a battle of dominance. Obviously, he won and as much as you’d refuse to admit it, he was a very good kisser. His lips were soft and his clean shaven face meant there wasn’t any stubble scratching against your chin. Before you could stop it, a soft moan left your mouth. Dandy halted for a moment before he started moving closer towards you, making you move backwards until your legs unexpectedly hit the back of his large bed. You fell back and Dandy was quick to move atop of you, one hand laid next to your head, the other still cupped your cheek, his thumb lightly brushing over your face, “Such beauty. And it’s all mine.”

“Dandy wait I-” a breathy gasp escaped you, cutting off your sentence as the man in question had started kissing down the side of your neck. It felt nice, really nice actually, and your hands hesitantly placed themselves on Dandy’s shoulders, feeling the hard muscle underneath his buttoned shirt. You felt his hands wriggling underneath your back to pull at the strings of your corset and with each tug of his hand, the fabric became looser around your torso. Without thinking, or perhaps you knew what you were doing but didn’t want to admit it, you arched your back to give his hands the access they needed to compete the task easier. This meant your breasts had lifted towards Dandy’s face which he seemed only too happy about as you felt his hands move faster as they got closer to the top. You felt relief as the corset was fully loosened, until Dandy’s hands pulled the dress down from the waist to bunch the fabric up around your hips. Your torso was now fully exposed.

Your face turned red and your hands immediately covered your breasts, “Dandy!” Said man made quick work of grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, enjoying watching you squirm to try to pull yourself from his grip. His strength impressed and terrified you at the same time as he made holding you down seem easy. His free hand slowly cupped your breast and you heard a shuddered gasp leave his lips. “Don’t you ever hide yourself from me, do you understand. You’re my wife now, I am your husband and it’s my right to touch you, to please you. And I will please you.” His words silenced you once more and you could only watch him caress your chest, pressing your lips together to stop any sounds from coming out and encouraging him.

It didn’t take long for his mouth to join in, a muffled moan filling the silence as he sucked on your exposed nipple. Your thighs pressed themselves together as his actions had spread a warm feeling throughout your body, settling in your lower stomach. The more he continued, the more you felt an unfamiliar ache grow between your legs. “We shouldn’t be doing this..” Dandy ran his hands down your sides, his touch being surprisingly gentle as he did so, stopping to grab your hips. “If you don’t want this then push me away.” You glanced down at him and it was at that point you realised he was no longer holding your wrists up and you moved your hands down. Seeing this, Dandy switched sides to attack your other nipple, the sensation forcing a moan out of you. Instinctively, your hand buried itself in the back of his hair. His teeth grazed against it in a soft bite and your reflex had you pulling on Dandy’s hair before you realised what you were doing. Your actions drew a long moan from Dandy and so you curiously pulled again, harder this time.

Dandy rushed to get off the bed, his hands going for your dress as he stood up. He quickly but carefully pulled the dress off you completely to throw to the side, his next target being your stockings and shoes. After removing those from your body, his fingers made quick work of the buttons down his shirt. You felt a little self conscious as his eyes raked over your almost completely naked form as he undressed himself but you remembered his words and didn’t hide yourself this time, not wanting to upset him. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, he shrugged it off and threw it in another direction, making a separate pile for his clothes.

There was no denying that Dandy was conventionally attractive. He was tall, handsome and now you had proof that he was in great shape as well. Had his personality been a little more, stable shall we say, he would’ve been the complete package. Looking at his toned muscles, especially his abs and biceps, had you blushing and you curled your fingers into fists to stop yourself from reaching out and touching him. Dandy saw you checking him out and practically crooned like a bird in mating, flexing for you as you looked over him. A large smirk stretched over his lips as he slowly undid his belt, very much enjoying the way your eyes followed his fingers as he did so.

His impatience outweighed his need to have his ego stroked and he made quick work of stepping out his trousers, kicking his socks and shoes off as he did. Both of you were left in your underwear. Unconsciously, your gaze found its way down to stare at his tight white undies and the bulge sticking out. His movement caught you off guard and you leaned up onto your forearms as Dandy started flexing into poses to show off his body. “What do you think?”

“Um, I think..” He returned to his previous position leaning over you and staring deep into your eyes, waiting for your answer. You decided to be honest with him, “I think you’re very handsome. Much too handsome to be interested in a girl like me.” Your voice was a soft whisper as you spoke. You couldn’t tell if Dandy was confused, angry or speechless, perhaps it was a mix of all three. You were stunned as you saw his eyes watering, why was he crying? His lips curved into an unnerving smile, his hand coming up to pet your hair, “I think I love you (Y/N).” Was there something wrong with your ears or did he really just say that? You barely knew the guy! Sure, you knew each other as kids but that was a long time ago and clearly a lot had changed since then, like Dandy’s psychotic tendencies.

Just as you started your disagreement, you were kissed once more, his mouth swallowing any words you’d planned on saying. His movements were more rushed. Erratic. His hands started grabbing at your skin as if trying to commit every curve to memory. You barely registered Dandy moving himself between your legs. He wouldn’t give you much time to catch your breath before he was back to kissing you, it was turning your brain to mush. A soft touch along the waistline of your panties sent a shiver down your spine. As much as the rational side of you knew that you should’ve shut this down ages ago, a much more curious side of you had taken charge and was allowing Dandy to take control over you. It had felt good so far, it could only get better right?

During your thoughts, Dandy had shuffled his hand into your panties and his middle finger reached down to lightly trace the curve of your lips before pushing down to separate them, exposing your pussy to his eager fingers. His fingertip found your clit pretty easily, applying a gentle pressure before slowly moving around in circular motions. Your body took charge over your conscious and spread your legs a little wider, soft pants leaving your lips as you held onto his shoulders. His mouth had grown bored of your lips and found its way back to your breasts. The combination of teasing to your breasts and clit had you melting into the bedsheet fairly quickly; a lot quicker than you hoped. But you couldn’t help it. You’d touched yourself before but it didn’t feel as good as this, as good as Dandy was making you feel.

Dandy felt on cloud nine. No, higher than that. He had the girl of his dreams in his bed, with his ring on her finger and his hand in her panties. He’d waited too long for you to come around to see him again and he was determined to give you a damned good reason to not want to leave again. Even if you did try to leave, he wouldn’t let you, not now that you were his. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you as his fingers sped up a little. He took in every gasp and moan. He followed the curve of your neck as your head tilted back and traced the swell of your breasts with his eyes. You were perfect, just like he knew you would be.

Your pants grew louder as the warm feeling in your stomach turned into a tingling sensation, your lower half starting to squirm. Dandy didn’t stop, his fingers kept at it, not daring to disrupt as he watched your hands try to grab at the bedsheets before giving up and throwing your arms over your head. A small whine followed by a short cry bubbled in your throat, feeling yourself climax from Dandy’s fingers. You immediately felt too hot and tired, your chest heaving as Dandy moved his fingers down to coat them in your cum. He turned your face with his clean hand to look at him as he brought his other hand up to his mouth. The eye contact had you turning red with embarrassment as you watched him suck your juices from his fingers. “Just as sweet as you, my darling.”

He crawled over you, settling between your legs once more, placing your thighs over his hips. He lowered his crotch, pressing his clothed erection against your wet panties. You pressed your lips together to avoid making any sound, though it did feel good. That was the worst part about this situation. You were enjoying everything he was doing and you felt ashamed at the fact you wanted more. ‘Screw it,’ you thought, cupping his face in your hands to pull him down for another passionate kiss. He let out a whiny moan into your mouth as he started grinding against you. Your hips shifted underneath as that achy feeling had returned tenfold. Dandy’s movements suddenly slowed and now the friction wasn’t enough to get you close but enough to leave you wanting more. A series of whines left your mouth, trying to lift your own hips to set a new pace but the way Dandy was holding you down with his own body made it impossible.

Dandy was thoroughly amused by your impatience and chuckled in your ear, “What’s the matter love?” You huffed and tried again to move your hips, “I-I want more.” Dandy brushed his lips along your neck, his hands moving to your thighs to possessively grab at your skin, red marks being left behind. “More what? I’ll do anything for you darling, but you have to tell me.” You threw your head back in frustration, closing your eyes to avoid his gaze, “I want you to fuck me. Please!” He let out a deep groan into your ear, “Say it again.” His hips jerked against your own with a newfound ferocity and you sighed in relief. Dandy whined, “Say those words again (Y/N)”

“I want you to fuck me!” You didn’t intend to shout it but he was teasing you and it was making you frustrated. Dandy visibly shuddered from your words and in what felt like milliseconds, Dandy had both of your underwear off of you and throw to the side to join the scatters of clothes already littering the floor. You couldn’t help yourself to look at his dick, needing to see what exactly you had just asked for. Not that you had other experiences to compare it to but it certainly looked bigger than you were expecting. Dandy held eye contact with you as he rubbed his cock down between your pussy lips, wanting to watch every moment of this. You started squirming again after a few moments and Dandy was all too happy to pick up the pace, lining himself up. You gasped and your hand reached out to place against his chest, “Wait! I-It’s my first time, be gentle.” Your words only spurred him on more. He got to be the one to deflower you, to be the one and only man to see you like this, to touch you like this. It was almost enough to send him over the edge right then. He grabbed your hand on his chest and lifted it up to press a kiss to your palm, “Of course, princess.”

He pushed forward and almost immediately your back arched at the feeling. It burned but in a good way? It was painful to start but it was slowly filling your ache inside you. He halted in his movements, watching your face twist in agony, his heart caught in his chest. He forced himself to stay still though his body wanted nothing more that to ruin you for other men at that moment. But if he didn’t wait it would ruin the experience between the two of you and he didn’t want that. No, he only wanted to be associated with pleasure. Maybe some pain but not unwanted pain. A few moments went by with Dandy remaining frozen until you experimentally moved your hips. The burning hadn’t gone completely but it had lessened and there was a new feeling building. One that had your toes curling it was so good.

Dandy took your movements as a green light and slowly thrust himself deeper, forcing a moan from you. He was addicted to your sounds, thrusting deeper inside to elicit even more from you. You twisted your head to try to push it into the pillows beneath, your hands grasping handfuls of the covers underneath you. Dandy held the back of your thighs and pushed your legs up, creating a new position that had him angling into you to hit spots you didn’t know existed. A loud cry left you as he went faster, it felt amazing. Your hands come up over your head to grab onto the headboard, feeling like you needed to ground yourself somehow. Dandy’s eyes were glued on you, trying to burn the image of you taking his cock into his brain. You felt so good around him, he wasn’t sure he was going to last very long.

He leaned down whilst still keeping a harsh pace, “Does it feel good (Y/N)? Do you love the way your husband pleasures you?” You didn’t answer him, you couldn’t. Your mind was mush and all you could focus on was the oncoming orgasm you felt approaching. A series of pants and soft moans left you, slowly growing in volume. Dandy fucked you harder, only too eager to help you finish. His own orgasm was fast approaching too and he was quickly won over on the notion of you finishing together. His moans merged with yours and it was difficult to tell who was who as you both came close.

Your stomach moved up and down as you felt yourself right on the edge, when Dandy forced himself deep inside you, pushing you right over. Your legs shook as you came, turning your face to hide it in your arm and muffle the long moan that left your mouth. His own moan echoed in your ear as he leaned over you, your sweaty bodies pressed against each other. You gasped as you felt something warm inside you and it was then your brain unfuzzed itself and the reality of what just happened hit you. Your mouth felt incredibly dry. He had just came inside you without protection. You stayed frozen as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his head into your neck. He didn’t pull out, apparently content with staying exactly where he was for the time being.

Your hand hesitantly came up to stroke his dark hair and a pleased sigh filled your ears. Dandy hummed, “I love you (Y/N), my dear wife.” You mentally groaned and slammed your head into the pillow. You sighed, you know what? You were exhausted, you could deal with all of this after you’d had some sleep. You made a move to roll out from underneath him but Dandy had seemingly already fallen asleep on top of you. You groaned, what exactly had you just gotten yourself into? Dandy’s arms wrapped tighter around you, holding you closer and a soft mumble of “mine” was barely heard in the silence. The hand in his hair, you gently ran your fingers through it, looking around the room. Okay, maybe it wasn’t completely horrible but certainly not where you expected it to end up. You looked down again at the ring on your finger, would this really be so bad?

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