#just been thinking about this for a while | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghost-proofbaby · 3 days

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"THE FIRST DATE"

EXTRA CONTENT - "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 7k+ → a/n: the very long awaited first date. this was requested by several people. wahoo! also, fair warning for second-hand embarrassment. i think eddie munson is the only person who drag me dancing around a bowling alley and i wouldn't smite them on the spot.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

EDDIE: What about a fancy dinner date?

YOU: boring.

YOU: and too traditional. when were you even born, Munson? the 60s???

EDDIE: Ha. Ha. I don’t see you making any worthwhile suggestions, sweetheart.

YOU: i don’t have to make any suggestions, old man. YOU’RE supposed to be wooing ME

God forbid anyone walked in on you at this moment.

You were like a high schooler, lying on your stomach with your feet kicking up into the air as you stared at the screen, happily bantering with Eddie over text. All the butterflies, all the blissful jitters, all that dopamine rush that comes with school girl crushes – every single cliche was present and was in full force as you discussed the details of your first date with him. You used to scoff (albeit with hidden longing) at all the romance movies that you truly believed had overplayed all the giddiness, but now you got it. It was disgusting, the way he had you wrapped around his finger so easily, the way he had turned you into a heart-eyed shell of the woman you once were in the matter of a week.

EDDIE: So you have a thing for older men is what you’re telling me.

YOU: i NEVER said that.

EDDIE: Didn’t have to, sweetheart. I can read between the lines.

Over the last week, since the two of you had won the bet and you had won over with insistence on him properly asking you out, Eddie had been tossing around date ideas as he tried to plan this very first occasion. The only time you had even seen him was when your entire group met up, the latest outing having been for brunch on Saturday under the guise celebrating the one week anniversary of you and Eddie surviving twenty four hours together without killing each other.

Didn’t stop him from calling and texting you. And it clearly hadn’t deterred him from losing his mind over doing right by you with this entire first date ordeal.

YOU: i don’t even have the energy to explain to you how many times you have proven to not do that in the past.

EDDIE: I’ve read between the lines in the past!

YOU: you most certainly have NOT

EDDIE: I was able to read when you wanted to kiss me that night. That’s reading between the lines.

And so the giddiness rears its head, full fledged as heat swarms your body and your cheeks ache from your smile.

YOU: i hate you

EDDIE: No, you don’t

YOU: i do. i really do.

EDDIE: You’re such a shit liar

You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a knock on your dorm’s door, annoying and persistent as it taps out some random rhythm that must be a song of some sort. But whatever song it is, you can’t recognize it as you stand, walking over to answer.

“Did you forget your key aga-” you begin, assuming it was just your roommate. You’re shocked to see Robin and Steve standing there, “What are you guys doing here?”

“We had a study date, in case you had forgotten and not seen our hundreds of texts,” Steve huffs, quickly crossing his arms.

You hadn’t seen their texts. Most of your screen time had been a bit preoccupied with a certain metalhead.

“Oh, shit,” your face falls as you open the door wider, side-stepping and motioning for them to come in.

“Yeah,” Steve snarks as he comes right in, Robin hot on his trails and seeming in a far more pleasant mood as the boy mocks you, “Oh, shit.”

Robin stops beside you as Steve helps himself to a seat in your desk chair, “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because he has to get A’s on all his mid-terms to keep his 3.0.”

“I am not cranky-”

“You are!”

“Am not!”

“You so are,” Robin continues to egg him on, choosing your bed as her resting place.

Your phone bounces a bit from the way she throws herself down on the sorry excuse for a mattress, and you recall how you had yet to reply to Eddie. Fuck.

“When did we even make these plans?” you ask, genuinely confused as you shut the door. You already miss the peace and quiet of being alone, free to preen at your phone and giggle to your heart’s content at the world’s worst flirt over text.

“Saturday,” Steve groans, throwing his head back.

“It was after brunch,” Robin clarifies, lifting herself up from how she was lounging amongst your blankets, “I mean, you seemed a bit distracted when you agreed, but… We did text you about it.”

You had been distracted. Eddie had managed to quietly ask the waitress to include your tab with his so he could pay for it without your knowledge, and you’d spent the entire time torn between being upset with the boy and absolutely fawning. It was a bit pathetic, looking back at it – the fact that those were the only two options your mind had presented you with. You’d scorned him over the phone later that night, and he had only laughed. You swear you can still hear it now, having heard it several times since – a low chuckle that rattled into the caverns of your chest, that bounced amongst vines of affection and willed open blooms of adoration just a little bit wider.

Part of you was still waiting for the wilting. For the other shoe to drop, for all of what had been exposed and had been planted to vanish from your grasps. That first Monday morning, you’d even woken up worried it had all been a dream.

“I’ve been busy,” you lamely try to excuse your radio silence.

“Busier than normal?” Steve’s brows quirk up, leaning back in your chair that emits a squeak of protest, “Or have you just been busy with new friends?”

Your lips twist and your nose twitches in confusion, “New friends? What the Hell are you going on about, Harrington?”

Robin fully sits up now, watching with piqued interest.

“Eddie,” Steve gets straight to the point, his previous sour mood finally melting slightly, “You can’t honestly tell me that nothing changed after that night.”

It was something neither of you had really discussed. Steve had seen you two, knew that a lot had truly changed based off of the way you’d tossed him right into the middle of the mess there at the end, but you and Eddie had never said anything about being together. Not to your friends, and not even to each other.

“Just because I don’t want to tear his head off his shoulders anymore doesn’t mean we’re spending every waking moment together,” you force your best scowl, as if that wasn’t exactly what you had yearned for all week.

Eventually, it had to wear off. That’s what you told yourself – at some point the initial rose tones would fade less vibrant, and Eddie’s intense occupation of your mind would lessen with the hues.

“I can’t believe it, but I am siding with Stevie on this one,” Robin finally contributes, “I mean, you guys won’t even tell us what happened that night.”

“Nothing exciting,” you’re quick to lie, “Just… I don’t know. Boring stuff. Getting on each other’s nerves, sitting around on his couch,” that gets a bitter scoff from Steve that almost makes you freeze up. Damn Eddie for teasing him with the truth about the couch, “Nothing worth making a big deal over. Like I said, we just learned to… to… tolerate each other.”

Tolerate was an interesting way to put spending hours on the phone together each night, sometimes falling asleep while still on the line.

Steve still looks as though he’s recalling all of Eddie’s annoying taunts from that night while Robin only grins salaciously.

“Tolerate each other?” she mimics you, leaning forward and pressing her palms into the edge of the mattress beside her knees, “Babe, have you two even said a single mean thing to each other since that night? I think he even smiled at you on Saturday. You’re practically married with two and a half kids already.”

He had smiled at you – multiple times. And each one had struck the most delicate of daggers right into your chest, lighting you aflame under his attempted clandestine attention. Every time those big, brown eyes had met yours from across the table, the ache you’d started to hold for him had only doubled in size. By the end of that morning, when the day had technically started to bleed out into the afternoon, you were nothing more than a vessel of pining for the boy that you hadn’t even gotten the chance to brush against amongst your friends.

“Whatever,” you murmur as you reach out to snatch up your phone, “I never even understood the whole half kid thing. Like, how the fuck do you have two and a half kids?”

“I’m sure Eddie would be more than happy to show you,” Steve teases despite his still half-traumatized look.

You’re quick to reach out a hand to whack the back of his head, “Shut up. Are we gonna keep sitting here while you two try to pry something that doesn’t exist out of me, or are we going to go study?”

Steve’s grumpy mood returns as he rubs the back of his head, him and Robin standing in sync to exit the room.

But before the three of you exit the dorm, you check your phone one last time, having to bite down on that girlish grin when you see two new text message notifications.

EDDIE: It’s official. I’m a genius.

EDDIE: Say, are you free tomorrow night?

—

Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. A shift at your job, one too many hours spent sitting through lectures, ensuring a night of studying with Steve and Robin — all petty distractions, roadblocks on your path to the most highly anticipated first date of your life. Eddie wouldn’t even entertain you with details, only telling you to dress fairly comfortably and to put on your best game face.

And you did. To some extent, you really did.

But you’d finished getting ready hours in advance, something you blamed on nerves, and having that much time to kill with such nerves was dangerous.

Simple makeup turned a bit more extravagant, you had tried on nearly every outfit in your possession, you’d even eyed your hair curler on more than one occasion.

Comfortable. What the Hell was that even supposed to mean?

Your only solution had been to text the man of the hour himself, something to busy your thumbs instead of twiddling them or involving them in taking your date night look several steps over just comfortable.

YOU: okay, so. can you define ‘dressing comfortably’?

EDDIE: According to Google, “dressing in a way that makes you feel at ease in your body” :)

YOU: fuck off. you know that’s not what i meant.

Still no clues. He wasn’t caving so easily to your pestering. You should have known better, considering he’d been professionally dodging any questions or inquiries you had regarding the date for the last twenty four hours.

EDDIE: Don’t overthink it, sweetheart.

That certainly didn’t help. Not even in the slightest.

You don’t even reply to his text, already back to pacing your dorm before you finally cave to an impulsive decision you’d been grappling with for hours now.

There was a newish, sporty skirt in the bottom of your drawers. It was comfortable, it had built-in shorts, and it looked damn good on you. The hem fell right around mid-thigh and always flared in an overly satisfying fashion when you’d spin while wearing it. The material of the pleats was nearly impossible to wrinkle. It wasn’t overly soft against your palms as you still nervously smoothed it down once you’d shimmied it on, but you still repeated the motion in hopes of soothing some of your nerves.

You’re sure it’s the wrong option until Eddie sees you in it.

He texts when he’s on his way and you find yourself bounding outside to wait for him far too early to be reasonable. He hadn’t even arrived until after your back had nearly become one with the brick exterior of the dorm building's front wall, leaning into the scratch of the clay on your shoulder blade a welcome distraction until you heard the roar of a motorcycle engine.

You nearly grow dizzy from the sudden rush of nerves.

This is really happening. You’re about to go on a date with Eddie, the first time of what you hope will be many to come.

“Took you long enough, Munson,” you snark loud enough for him to hear as he clicks the Yamaha’s kickstand into place right by the vibrant red curb. There’s a sign not even a full foot away from where he’s standing that clearly spells out NO PARKING.

Oh.

If you hadn’t already been riddled with nerves, your knees would have gone weak at the sight of him.

Since when is that dressing casual and comfortable?

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” he shoots right back as he lifts the helmet off his head, and something inside of you clenched tightly at the sight with no plans to unwind any time soon.

Dark wash jeans plaster his legs, heavy combat boots smacking against the pavement as he walks to meet you halfway. The black shirt he’s donning isn’t extravagant, but something in the way that t-shirt material stretches across his chest has you burning from the inside out. He’s even gone so far as to tuck the shirt into the jeans, his black leather belt on show as he hugs the helmet below his bicep. And his normal leather jacket — you don’t believe you’ve ever seen it look better, ever seen it fit his shoulders so snugly. He’s dressed to perfectly match the all black bike, the image of a bad boy straight out of every cheesy movie you’d ever seen.

The only thing that breaks the illusion is the boyish grin pulling the arrival of his dimples along with it as he watches you push off the wall. His eyes are sparkling as you approach him, a constellation of hope and new beginnings twinkling right before you.

He’s not sorry that you waited on him. Not in the slightest. Especially when those starry eyes travel over your appearance.

You have to force yourself to tsk, because otherwise you might end up just another pile of ash for the poor landscapers to sweep up, “Haven't you heard it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?”

You stop in your steps just far enough to catch the way his eyes take you in. Drinking slowly. Following the trace of the just fancy enough tank top that you’d chosen to balance the skirt. Lingering on the plush of your inner thighs, barely peeking out the bottom of your chosen outfit for the night.

You almost start to feel self conscious until he lets out a little sigh, nearly a whimper as his eyes trail back up to find yours.

“I’m sure I have,” he chokes out, composure momentarily vanished as you distract him so easily, “But aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“I could say the same about you.”

You’re like a shark. If you stop swimming in the upstream flirtations, you’ll drown instantaneously in his big brown eyes.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you swear you see a hint of a blush across the highs of his cheek bones and sides of his neck as he holds out the helmet for you, “At least with me, it will.”

“Even the top secret location of this date?” you ask as you take the helmet, considering putting up a fight. You still hated him not wearing one for your expense, and you weren’t exactly eager for any sort of helmet hair, “Do I have to wear-“

He knows the end of your sentence before you even finish, “Yes. No exceptions; you have to wear it every time you ride.”

“Every time?”

“It’s for safety.”

“Isn’t it sort of unsafe for you to go without one?”

“You’re wearing the helmet,” he sighs, nose twitching with indignation as he holds staunchly onto the position, “And to answer your other question, no. I guess flattery will get you almost everywhere, but it’s a surprise.”

You fiddle with the chin straps, looking down as you feel his gaze burning the top of your head from this angle, “Fine. But we really should just get me my own helmet. You need to wear one, too. And…” you look back up, pausing before you properly put on the piece of safety equipment, “It’s a little oversized. You know, considering it was meant to fit your big head first.”

He narrows his eyes, still lit up with a sort of playfulness you haven’t grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of.

You like him quite a bit more than you bargained for. A lot more than five hundred dollars, or twenty four hours, ever would have summarized.

“We can go helmet shopping another day.”

We. Not just him, not just you. But you and him. A unit. A couple.

“It’s a date,” you whisper just before you slide on the helmet. You completely miss the wildfire that the ghost of a blush has finally become. You completely miss the way that your talk of you two together, you two as a couple with a future, affects him just as his has an effect on you.

Helmet hair is worth it, you decide, once you’ve saddled onto the bike behind him and he revs up the engine once more. You’re not as shy as you had been on that fateful night the week before, quick to wrap your arms around his middle and let your chest press hard against his back. The leather crinkles against the contact, the heat of him radiating, and you think you could spend forever like that.

You’re almost upset that you can’t smell his cologne through the helmet. That once terrible scent of boy.

Every curve and every slow stop is another excuse to cling to him tighter, every red light a reason for him to turn his head and catch a glimpse of you with a small grin that never once falters. You swear at one of the lights, when he revs his engine in a particularly rowdy fashion right as the light turns green and takes off particularly fast, you can hear his laughter over the loud wind mingling with the roaring engine. You know you can feel it, vibrating in his chest right along with your own that gets lost in the chaos of the unusually busy Tuesday night street.

When he pulls into the parking lot behind the older building, you catch sight of the neon sign out front and find yourself laughing again.

“Bowling?” you question, yanking the helmet off less than gracefully as he stands off the bike you’d just swung yourself off of, “You’re taking me bowling?”

He takes the helmet from you, suddenly looking a bit shy as he averts his gaze, “Not just any bowling. It’s… It’s the coolest bowling alley you will ever go on a first date at.”

“You say that to every girl you bring here?”

You’re just teasing him, trying to poke fun rather than succumb to all the fluttering that bruises your inner chest and stomach. But then he has to ruin your fun, strike a match and set you aflame so adroitly.

“Only the prettiest ones.”

You should continue the banter, challenge him on just who else fell into that category, but you can’t. It’s in that glimmer of his eyes and the indent of his dimples, the way he looks at you as he slowly rises and somehow softens his gaze all while keeping a threat of a bite beneath the tone. His eyes tell you that you are, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s referring to. That in this moment, you begin and you end his world, and not even the commotion of traffic or nip in the air that creeps up as the summer sun sets can deter his attention being set solely on you.

But his tone suggests something far more dangerous. He says it like you’re a prey, an unattainable catch that he’ll be chasing for the entire night. A wicked growl to that voice you’ve been falling asleep to over the phone far more than you care to admit in just a short week.

He says it like he’s going to ruin you. As if he hasn’t already injected himself into your veins, as if he isn’t the gasoline drowning and raging the burn within you.

But he keeps up the gentleman persona in the short walk up to the door of the establishment. Holds out his hand for yours to fit perfectly into, guides you to the inner sidewalk as cars fly past and the only thing between you and them is him.

The hunt is on from the moment he opens that door for you.

“Ever the gentleman,” you muse, voice hardly above a whisper as you brush past him and finally catch that smell of boy.

You think you’d drown in his cologne now if he gave you the chance. Bury your face in his chest, wrap your arms around him and press any inch of your own bare skin to his.

“Always,” it would have been a weak response if he’d only said it and nodded his head, but he takes it a step further. Right as you pass him, entering the brisk AC, his hand ghosts over the expanse of your lower back. Fingertips nimbly brushing right above the band of that skirt, grazing your tank top just hard enough for you to feel it and shiver.

It doesn’t stop there. The back and forth, the chase, the hunt.

The way he makes sure your knuckles brush his as he hands you your shoes, even more brushes of his palm flat against your lower back repetitively, the way he insists on a heavier ball that makes his arms strain and muscles display. Over the chatter from the bowling alley’s fairly nice bar and the music trickling out of the overhead speakers, you’re sure that your heartbeat has joined the ranks of audible noises to echo the nice haunt. You’re positive he can hear every thump, can pinpoint the exact moments that poor aching muscle inside your chest begins to race.

You go for a smaller weighted ball. You don’t think you could handle anything heavier with your current case of weak knees.

“Only an eight pounder?” Eddie tuts at you as you approach your designated lane again, “Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.”

No, I can’t. Your fault, really.

“I have weak arms,” you try to defend yourself as you rotate the red ball in your hands.

His favorite color. It hadn’t been intentional, but the swirling shades of stark scarlet and deep maroons is a nice touch.

“Poor baby,” he teases, leaning into you as you deposit the ball right behind his own ball on the track where it already rests.

A twelve pounder. A smoky quartz design, black base swirling with misty white and gold accents. Far prettier than yours by a landslide.

And fitting for the pretty boy you’re faced with when you turn to watch him shedding his leather jacket onto the bench a few steps away.

“Not all of us are some big, strong macho man,” you scowl insincerely, moving to sit beside him and follow his lead in switching out shoes, “I’m betting now that by halfway through the game, you’ll be caving and begging to use my ball, Munson.”

You’re looking down as you casually say it, one shoe already half off and unaware of just how close he had gotten until his hand reaches over. Not even a second later, he has your chin pinched between his fingers, gentle as it guides you and forces you to look at him, “Careful. Bets seem to be awfully dangerous when it comes to the two of us.”

Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him.

The graze of those fingers against your jaw leaves a trail of ash, burning that lingers and thrums beneath your skin, heart officially skipping beats rather than merely speeding up. You’re coming to realize that when it comes to keeping up with Eddie Munson in his element, in all his charm and flirtatious banter, you’re a bit hopeless.

He has you trapped under his thumb — metaphorically and literally.

“Are you always this flirtatious with all your dates?” you spit out against your better judgment.

Why do I keep bringing up his previous flames? Do I really care? Do I really want to put myself through the torture of hearing about all of the girls, or guys, he’s wooed before me?

The same glittering eyes, the same hidden smirk from earlier. “Only the prettiest ones.”

“You keep saying that,” you mumble, chin pressing into his fingertips against their hold, “Just how many pretty dates have you had?”

The pride softens in an instant. His gaze is less sharp, grin less predatory as he raises his eyebrows.

“Does it really matter?”

You can’t help it. Your mind races ahead of you before you can stop it; you’re plagued in an instant with images of how many dates, how many other people he had indulged in over the year you two had wasted hating each other. You try to recall overhearing him describe any of those dates, try to remember if Nancy ever mentioned Eddie passing up one of the hangouts for a romantic endeavor.

You come up empty handed, but it doesn’t stop the overthinking.

“I guess not,” you feebly answer, unable to tear your eyes from him.

I guess not is really code for it matters so much more than I care to admit. An impossible riddle you can’t even expect him to pick up on.

His hand falls from your chin and finds home on your bare knee, warm palm swallowing it up. He gives it a squeeze, and you wonder for a moment if maybe he can read your secretive language. Maybe he’s seeing right through your overconfident front, maybe he has felt every racing of your pulse.

Maybe, he’s as nervous as you are.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t think you can bear another moment of this new intimacy. It had been easier when the two of you were on a ticking clock, confined to his apartment and parameters of a bet that never really mattered. Vulnerability had less of an edge when you could yearn and pine to see it flourish in the real world — but now, here it was, twisting away within you both a week later and pricking away as the stakes at hand come to light.

“Are you ready for me to absolutely demolish your ass at this game?” you joke.

“Demolish me? That’s some big talk for someone using an eight pound ball, babe.”

“It’s not about how much you’re packing, pretty boy,” you scoff, “Just that you know how to use it.”

He smiles slowly, but the quick squeeze of his hand tells you the vulnerability is here to stay. He feels that cutting edge too, and he’s not shying away.

He leans right into it, just as he does your personal space, “Bring it on.”

—

“You’re cheating!”

“I’m not!”

“You are! Who the fuck gets three strikes in a row?”

Eddie strolls back towards you, self-satisfied smirk curling his lips and his hips swaying with arrogance as you continue to pout at his sudden show of sportsmanship, “I believe the answer is me, sweetheart. Wanna see me make it four?”

“I hope you just jinxed yourself,” you scowl as you hop up off the couch and Eddie swaggers right past you, hardly affected by the palm you smack into the center of his chest for good measure, “I hope you roll nothing but gutter balls the rest of the game, you prick.”

“Like you have been?”

“Burn in Hell.”

Eddie’s cackle echoes through the fairly busy alley. It wasn’t overwhelming, the lanes of either side of yours staying empty, the only other groups several ways down. So far, the date has been good. Even if Eddie was wiping the floor with your severe lack of skill.

Both of you had opted for Cokes rather than alcohol, Eddie had ordered some sort of platter with onion rings and mozzarella sticks that the two of you had easily been devouring between turns. Playful banter had been kept up easier than breathing, barking words without bite being snapped back and forth loud enough for the entire establishment to hear the two of you being exceptionally childish.

At some point, your nerves had melted. And you didn’t even need a lick of alcohol in your system for it to happen.

“Try to aim for the pins this time,” Eddie continues to taunt you from where he’s spread out on the brown faux leather bench you’d been taking turns warming the seat of.

Your fingers slide into the holes of your ball with ease, courtesy of the grease from all your snacking, “Try shutting the fuck up.”

More of his laughter sounds off, and you nearly trip on your walk up to the markings on the linoleum wood flooring. It’s a nice sound; a beautiful response to words that could easily read identical to how the two of you used to fight. But these aren’t fighting words, they’re words passed between two… two… friends?

Is that how you should continue to classify this? Were you and Eddie really still just friends?

The sound of your ball stuttering in hops across the beginnings of the lane replaces his laughter

No. Easy question – there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the two of you were definitely not friends. Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken. And for the remainder of this date, you could live with that.

Eddie sucks in an audible breath, letting the air whistle between his teeth as your ball veers at the last second and misses the pins entirely. Again.

“Th-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt him, spinning on your heel and holding up a warning finger. It’s harder to hold in your own grin when Eddie’s already smiling into his fist, leaning his elbows onto his thighs as his big eyes peer at you, clearly amused, “Don’t say a word.”

His knuckles dig further into his mouth.

“I meant to do that.”

His eyebrows shoot up, still not speaking.

“It takes real talent to avoid pins like that.”

He leans over a bit further, and you swear you hear him emit a snort from behind that damn fist.

You open your mouth to continue with the bit when the clattering of your ball returning to the ball rack comes from behind you. Eddie only shrugs cheekily as he finally drops his fist to grab for a mozzarella stick, his smile contained but those damn dimples still flashing you brilliantly.

Without taking your eyes off him, you hold up a warning finger for emphasis once more, trying to bite down any signs of your own amusement as you take a few steps back in the direction of the rack and repeat yourself, “I meant to do that.”

“Sure you did,” he muses before taking a bite of the mozzarella stick smothered in marinara sauce.

“I did.”

“I believe you.”

“I-”

It seems the Universe is in the business of interrupting you two. As if it seems all that hope and potential flourishing in the space between you two and decides that simply won’t do. As if it’s too much.

Maybe it is. But maybe, just maybe, you’re enjoying too much.

Suddenly, before you can even finish your sentence or grab for your ball, the lights of the alley have dimmed. A few spotlights over the alleys themselves light up, erratically waving patches of light over the shining floor as the music that had been playing overhead cuts out to be replaced with some poor employee’s voice.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen-” you and Eddie share a confused glance, “-The time is officially ten o’clock, meaning nineties night has officially begun! Have fun, and enjoy yourselves as we throw you back to the decade of Nirvana and Beanie Babies for the rest of the night with these straight jams.”

Your face scrunches up in a comical cringe before the buzzing static of the speaker can even cut out and the beginning lines of Say My Name by Destiny’s Child begins to play.

You aren’t entirely sure of how it happens. Maybe it’s all the playfulness in there, in all that electric teasing at the tip of Eddie’s tongue and all that hopelessness bubbling up in your chest as it dawns on you of the fact you were finally on a proper date with Eddie. Maybe it’s simply a good night for you to continue to make a fool of yourself, and Eddie sees it as a chance he’ll always be right there with you, prepared to make a scene as he follows your lead.

He stands up to approach you where you’re still rooted beside the rack, matching your own grin that blooms genuinely at the sound of the song.

It was one of your favorite’s. A small fact about yourself you don’t think you’ve ever told Eddie – that you can remember.

It’s small, at first. Just mouthing along to the first verse as he moves towards you, recognizing that excitement lighting up in you, shimmying his shoulders ever so slightly. He looks like an idiot – he’s absolutely your idiot.

“Did you know it was nineties night?” you mumble as he gets closer, shaking your head slightly.

“Stevie might have mentioned something about you enjoying nineties nostalgia,” he drawls, still taking sure steps towards you.

“Did you ask him for advice for our first date, Eddie?”

“No,” he scoffs quickly, finally close enough to grab you gently by your hips. He’s nowhere near manhandling you, but it’s still reminding you of the game, of the hunt, at play. You’re his prey and he’s officially making his move. Carelessly, nonchalantly. “He mentioned it ages ago. When they were trying to convince me you weren’t all bad.”

Your smile widens, “Was this around the time I threw a glass at your head, by chance?”

“Maybe.”

The dulcet instrumental of the song continues on overhead, beginning to pick up in beat, making you nod your head along as Eddie finally starts to tug you closer.

You��re in public, and you both should know better than to make absolute fools of yourselves, but it doesn’t seem to matter when all you can really see is him.

Your friends had also spent ages trying to convince you that Eddie wasn’t all bad, but you’d always known that much. You’d seen glimpses of the good in him from that very first night. When he’d made you feel welcome, when he’d given you a life-preserver to cling to when you’d felt most out of your element. You knew that Eddie Munson was one of those people who had a hardwired habit of trying to make people feel welcome.

Even in a room full of people, when you’d be non-stop embarrassing yourself endlessly.

All his jests had been further proof, but when he sees your rock on your heels as you enjoy the music, he takes it a step further. He grabs one of your hands with his free one, keeping a hold of your waist, encouraging all your giddiness over the song. Every single person in the establishment could be staring at the two of you – you didn’t care.

When he starts dramatically mouth along to the chorus of the song, swinging you around slightly, it takes very little provocation for you to join in with him.

You both could’ve taken a step further, and properly sang along in the most obnoxious voices possible, but you don’t. There’s still the slightest blanket of security there as Eddie keeps the antics mostly silent, reserving his dramatic reenactments of vocal runs for your eyes only. Even yanking your hand up close to his mouth, as though it was a microphone, as he swings you around again. You quickly become a giggling disarray, hardly able to keep up your own footing, eyes squinting with joy and what must be the messiest and ugliest smile possible showing off all your teeth. The type of smile and laughter you’d normally try to hide on instinct. The kind of smile you cover up.

But you can’t, because Eddie is keeping his sturdy grip on your hands with his own, and he’s drinking in every second of your joy. He’s vibrant as he watches the way he’s entertaining you. Shamelessly staring, making his antics falter.

“Baby, say my name,” he purposefully sings along dramatically, quietly but terribly off-key.

You can’t help but let out a snort, “Eddie, you’re an idiot.”

He ignores you, and continues to give you your own private concert, switching rapidly between singing the main song and the backup vocals, which only makes your stomach further ache with laughter.

This is what you’d been yearning for the last year. This silly side of him, an absolute fool who couldn’t care less about the stares of others.

The seductive side of him was enticing. The honest version of him nice. But this side of him? Carefree, rowdy, indiscreet? It may be your favorite yet.

Only the sound of a nearby teen couple mocking you two break the moment, just as you’ve begun to jokingly whisper-sing back into Eddie’s pretend microphone made of your joined fists. They make what must be vomiting noises, and you catch the tail end of one of them jokingly poking a finger towards their outstretched tongue as you finally sigh deeply.

You should probably feel embarrassed. Later on, when you find yourself in bed later tonight and attempt to find some rest, you’ll probably ruminate and burn yourself alive with all the embarrassment. But not right now; not with your boy still in front of you, smiling just as desperately wide as you were.

His dimples would probably consume him if you let him go on any longer.

“Eddie,” you choke out through residual laughter, tugging your hands free as the song starts to fade out. You make no move to remove yourself from him, though. Your arms find home around his shoulders, hands splayed just below the nape of his neck, “People are staring.”

“Good,” he snipes back, finally dropping the act but not the glee, “Probably entranced by how pretty you look right now.”

“Pretty? I probably look like a loser. They’re probably already engraving a trophy for world’s ugliest smile-”

“Oh, don’t do that,” his forehead falls against yours, rolling his eyes, “Shut up and take the compliment. I love your smile.”

There’s something unspoken there. He loves your smile, yes, but he’s also been denied of it for a very long year. It’s the first step of making it up to you, making up for lost time.

Making a fool out of himself, just to see that goddamn smile.

With your arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose bumping yours, the game of bowling is all but forgotten. Even the teens, still side-eyeing the two of you, can be pushed aside in your mind.

All your insecurities of the night that have crept in the shadows become insignificant. You don’t care how many dates Eddie has been on before you, you don’t care that you’ve clearly become a prey caught in his web. You don’t even care about the way you’re losing.

It’s the perfect first date. When one of his hands wander, playing with the hem of your skirt, knuckles and rings brushing against bare skin, it’s perfect.

“Hey,” you whisper, “I’ve got a question.”

“I have an answer.”

“You sound very sure there, big guy.”

“I am sure,” he pulls his face away just a bit, but his gentle touch against your thigh lings. The other hand stays warm against your lower back, keeping you pressed up against him, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken.

Hearing him say it out-loud will still be nice, though.

“Does this mean we’re official?” you breathe out, trying to cling to all your bravery and not let it slip away, “Like – God, I sound like a high schooler right now – does this mean we’re… you know…”

“Dating?” he’s grinning, unable to hide his giddiness.

“Yeah. Dating.”

The hand tracing circles on your exposed outer thigh rises up to your cheek, brushing along it as he tucks a bit of your hair back. You swear you see it shaking out of the corner of your eye.

“I sure would like to be,” it was shaking. You know it surely, because his voice is as well. Vulnerable and honest, just how you like him, “We don’t have to tell the others, we can take it slow, but-”

“But we’re dating.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement – an affirmation. You and Eddie Munson, the man you swore you hated just over a week ago, were dating.

He only nods, and you consider the way that his dimples might just swallow you whole instead of him.

Not enemies, not friends – lovers. It has quite the nice ring to it.

“Well, in that case,” you finally pull away, dropping your arms slowly and letting your fingers catch on the chain of the necklace he currently wears. A red guitar pick, something you’ll surely learn the story behind soon enough. “Better go and roll that fourth strike, boyfriend.”

His head rolls back, and a joking groan falls from his lips as his neck stretches and nearly distracts you momentarily, “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re making fun of me, you little shit.”

Another laugh falls from your lips as you step around him, quirking an eyebrow. Perfect first date, indeed.

“Get used to it, Munson.”

“I plan to, Sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #beyond the hours #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #their love language is just being mean to each other i'll be honest #i've been nervous about posting extra content about them for a while but save the leaves #i might revamp the masterlist #also side note but i also think reader's outfit would totally get a scolding solely because that is not safe attire for riding on a bike #eddie should have shoved her into his jacket and scowled about it but he's just easily distracted by how pretty he finds her

428 notes · View notes

my-castles-crumbling · 19 hours

Text

Hi guys!

So I have been hit with a bit of the sads today and I’m trying to convince myself that it’s okay to like…ask for help and reassurance 😅 and I think I need some right now. There’s some things I’ve been putting off working on for a while that I need to do and I could use your encouragement! So..

50 notes and I’ll clean up around my house

100 notes and I’ll work on some job applications to find a less toxic school that accepts my identity

500 notes and I’ll talk to a friend about some issues we’ve been having that I’ve been avoiding

1000 notes and I’ll make a goal to drink at least 4 glasses of water a day because I’m chronically dehydrated lol

2000 notes and I’ll make a goal to be active five times a week (right now it’s three and I really need to do more)

3000 notes and I’ll actually listen to my doctor about how to treat my new health condition instead of just ignoring it until my next appointment (don’t do what I do, kids!)

4000 notes and I’ll force myself to write nice things about myself and I’ll post them here.

5000 notes and I’ll question all of your sanity for being so dedicated and I’ll…idk I’ll do whatever you guys want to take care of myself. I’ll take your suggestions I guess. As long as it’s not expensive. And I’ll post proof on here.

#self callout #self care #help?#don’t judge me please 😅

3K notes · View notes

norrisleclercf1 · 2 days

Text

Have My Baby

Pairing: Mafia!Max x Reader

Words: 4.6K

Rating: R

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, slight size kink, p in v, oral (f receiving), wrap it before you tap it, dirty talk, mention of murder, etc.

Synopsis: Max wants another baby, but he'd have to convince you first.

A/N: I could cry with finally finishing this, @leclerced, @mariahcarreyyy, and @piastrification since here go babes, hope you love it, since I kept bothering y'all about it. Sorry, love ya ♥️

"Daddy, when do we go see Tante Victoria?" Max looks down and sees Casper playing with his toy cars on the floor. Max was getting ready to go into the office today, having just gotten out of the shower, and debated shaving. "Why would we go see Tante Victoria?" Max picks up the razor, still thinking it over. "Because Mama said she had a baby," Max hums, put the razor down, and moves into the closet.

He slid on his briefs and black dress pants, pulled out a belt, and weaved it through the holes. "That's right. She did have a baby, but she needs to heal first," Max explains, groaning, knees popping as he sits on the floor, joining Casper in playing cars. Are Mama and you going to have another baby?" Max chuckles, but honestly, that thought has been in his mind for a while.

Max wanted nothing more than to have a baby girl, but he needed to slowly convince you. You weren't in love when you two had Casper and Fabian—far from it. The marriage was arranged, and Max was so cold-hearted to you; the only reason the twins were born was out of the duty of needing an heir. Instead, he got two. Max slowly broke down when the boys were around five months old, and something in him changed forever.

It was maybe when someone tried to kill you three, he just snapped, and it made him aware of his feelings. Max didn't want a weakness, yet not showing it created one anyway.

Shaking his head, he leans over and kisses Casper on top of the head, who looks up with identical eyes, smiling. "Daddy, can we go wake Mama?" Max nods and stands, picking up Casper and carrying him into the bedroom. You lay there, sleeping peacefully, clutching onto Max's forgotten pillow. "Be gentle, mijn lieve engel." Casper nods and slowly crawls up, and Max smiles.

He never thought that five years after the twins were born, he would be carrying his little boy and happy at the thought of you waking up and smiling at him. "Mama, the sun is up; you should be up," Max smirks, seeing a small smile pull at your lips, fingers twitching. You probably woke when Caspian first came in and started to play on the bathroom floor while Max showered.

Casper loved being near Max, constantly surrounded by his father, and Max adored it. Fabian was always by your side; Max loved them both equally, but Casper reminded him of him when he was that age. He loved cars and wanted to be by his father. Max refuses to be like his father, but he still remembers the day he snapped at Casper, and the poor baby was terrified of him. Max still never fully forgave himself for that.

"Mama, wake up. Daddy and I need kisses." Max chuckles, moves to your side of the bed, and sits on the edge of it. Yeah, we need kisses," he whispers, giggling. You open your eyes and see your perfect boys, minus the one who loved sleep more than anything. "Well, let me pay the kiss tax then," Sitting up, you kiss Casper all over his face, turning your head. Max is quick and steals a quick kiss before kissing you again, this time slower.

"Ewwww," Casper gags, making you two giggle and pull him into a hug. "Go wake your brother," Max picks up Casper, who kicks and then runs down the hall, yelling Fabian's name. "Good morning," You breathe, and Max swoops down, stealing another kiss; you sigh, feeling his bare chest against your skin. "Go put on another shirt, we don't need another baby," You joke, but Max doesn't laugh. He wants another baby.

"Victoria had her baby." You smile, and Max nods. He wasn't very close to his sister, just enough to have a relationship, but with him being the head of the Dutch Mafia, Victoria didn't want her kids or husband in harm's way. He respected it. "Yes, a little girl. Is she cute?" Max asks, walking to the closet and grabbing a white button-down. "She's so adorable," You gush; you loved being an aunt but a mother even more.

Max smirked and walked back in, buttoning up his shirt. "Our baby girl would be cuter," He makes the comment offhanded, knowing you wouldn't think much of him saying that. He always liked to say your boys were cuter than his nephews. "Yeah," You whisper, looking at the picture of your niece with a smile. Max smiles and moves, pulling you close by your ankles, causing a squeal.

"Hey, you know I love you, right?" Max rarely said it, so when he did, it always caught you off guard and made you nervous. "I know, I've always known." You whisper, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him gently. "Go say bye to the boys. Come home safe to me." Max nods and kisses you one more time, savoring the moment. Sighing, he pulls away and heads to the boy's rooms.

He stops just a little from their door, hearing their laughter and play fighting. "You'll never win!" Fabby yells, and Casper's loud giggles fill the room. Max could listen to that sound for the rest of his life if he could. He did this job so they could laugh and have that innocence for a little longer. Moving, he knocks on the door and pokes his head in; blinking fast, he takes in the scene before him.

"Casper, why are your pants on your head?" The twins giggle like it's some secret, making Max smile softly and enter the room. "We're bandits, Daddy," Fabian says in an obvious tone as if Max should've known what they were doing. "Bandits, hm, alright, my little bandits, get dressed and eat breakfast. I've got to go to work." Max yanks the pj pants off Casper's head, who giggles and grabs some shorts and t-shirts.

Crouching down, Max helps the twins get dressed, giving each a hug and kiss. "Be good for your mother, understand me, little bandits?" Both boys nod, "Boys! Breakfast!" The twins shove each other all the way, laughter on their trail. Max stands and walks past the kitchen; catching your eye, he winks and walks out the door.

"Mommy, sleepy." Looking up, you see the time and notice you missed their nap. Placing your book down, you let Fabby crawl into your arms as Casper was knocked out on the floor. "Can we watch cartoons?" Kissing the top of his head, you pull him closer and nod. "Of course, Scooby-doo?" Fabby's little head moves up and down quickly.

Hearing the theme, you settle in, but with the warmth and weight of your baby, you, too, fall asleep.

Max hated when you didn't answer his calls, but honestly, it was the perfect excuse to get away from work, leaving everything to the kids and letting them get trigger-happy. He was getting older and didn't find the thirst for blood anymore; it's crazy how you and the kids have changed him so much.

There was also a slight butterfly feeling in his stomach. He learned this was called anxiety from you. He was never one to be anxious, but after you had the boys, whenever you didn't answer, or you weren't wearing your tracker. Max gifted you a first-anniversary diamond necklace; it was small, perfect, and didn't draw attention. While the diamond was perfect, underneath it was a little tracker.

You knew it was a tracker and always wore it for your protection. Today, though, you and the boys were having a lazy day as the nice weather had taken a turn, and it was raining. Max tries hard not to think the worst, as the guards alert him that no one has entered or even left the penthouse, so he knows you and the boys are safe. Pulling up, he doesn't bother locking the car as he steps into the elevator and hits his floor.

Living at the top pays off, especially when you own the building. Stepping off, he nods to his guards, and they move back downstairs, where they had only stayed in the house when Max wasn't home. Smiling, he hears the Scooby-Doo cartoon and slowly moves into the living room and stops, taking in the scene before him.

You lay on the couch with Fabby and Casper cuddled into you. Max can't help but think back to when they were newborns when you and Max would be so tired and fall asleep on the couch with them curled between you two. It was Max's first memory of truly falling in love with you and the kids. Moving closer, he leans over the couch and kisses your cheek gently. "Love you," He whispers, removes his shoes to not wake you three, and heads to the kitchen.

Seeing the staff, Max smiles and waves them off. "Have the night off; I can cook." They all nod, say their thanks, and leave out the back door, and Max smiles, thinking about the cook. Rummaging through the fridge, he finds chicken, nuggets, and other foods. He steps up the grill and turns it on. Max moves around cooking dinner and smiles at the finishing products. Grabbing the plates, he places the plates down and puts the boy's sippy cups and you in a small glass of wine with water, and he just drinks water.

Walking in, he sees Casper is awake and makes grabby hands for his Dad. "Take a good nap with Mommy?" Casper lays his head on Max's shoulder and nods his head. "Hungry?" Casper nods again, Max taking him, placing him in his chair, and passing him his apple juice. "Thank you, Daddy." Max turns and feels his heart melt, seeing his sweet boy so soft and warm. "You're welcome, Casper; I will get your mother and brother. Be good." Casper nods and stares at the strawberries beside the meal, and Max chuckles.

Heading in, he leans against the door frame, watching as you trace the outline of Fabian's sleeping face. "Makes me want another," You whisper, sensing Max's eyes watching you. Your husband has to take a deep breath to stop his body from reacting; smiling sweetly, he walks over and pulls you two into his arms. "I wouldn't mind another," You smile hearing those words but shake your head slightly as Fabby whines and rubs his eyes.

"Buddy, I made dinner. Are you ready?" Fabby sits up, and you're lucky you have fast reflexes. You lean back quickly when Fabian runs into the dining room. "You cooked?" You weren't shocked. Max used to cook for you all the time initially, but he stopped a while ago. I felt like doing it while you were sleeping with the boys." Max helps you up and pulls you into his chest, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I made you a salad if you want it. But I grilled chicken, rice, and some veggies. The boys are eating cut-up grilled chicken, a little serving of mac and cheese, and their favorite fruit. I will also try to get them to try out veggies." You swear you fall in love with him all over again hearing that. "You're hot being a dad, you know that?" Max chuckles and leads you to the dining room.

"I'm a daddy," You laugh, smacking his stomach as you join your two boys for dinner.

"Victoria, she's adorable." You coo, washing your hands, eagerly waiting to hold your baby niece. Victoria and her family decided to pay a visit after she was feeling better. Victoria knew it'd be easier to visit and safer for her to come to you four. Fabian and Casper look into the car seat, staring as their cousins play with Max on the floor.

"Mommy, can we have one?" Fabian turns, staring at you with wide eyes, and you think for a moment. Max's attention suddenly zeroes in on you. Fabby, why don't you go play with your Dad and cousins," You deflect the question, and Max stares at you; looking sideways, you blush at the way your husband is staring at you. "Here you go," you sit down and happily take the baby into your arms, Max clears his throat and tells the boys to run off.

The four terrors run down the hall to the twins, and Max stands, fixes his pants, and sits down next to you. "What do you think?" You giggle at Max's dumb question but really consider it. Did you really want a third? Recently, you've been seeing the kid's old baby stuff around, making you miss having a baby in the house. "Can I?" Max whispers as your niece has fallen asleep.

Victoria smiled, relaxing as her husband was watching the boys, letting her have a breath. Max gently takes the baby and stands, rocking side to side, and damn if it didn't do something to you. Seeing your husband in his suit holding a baby girl did something to you in a way you couldn't understand. It made your body light up with need, making it impossible to sit still.

Max knew what he was doing to you; it was a dirty trick, really. He noticed how you reacted to some character on a show who was still in his suit and holding his child. Max ensured they arrived right when he got home, so he had no excuse to change. Seeing how your breathing has picked up, your pupils dilated to the point he couldn't see the color in your eyes.

"Tori, she's so lovely," Max whispers, gently lowering the baby into the little cot. He smiles when she grabs his finger and holds on tight. And strong, too," he giggles and can't help but imagine holding his little girl. A little girl with your hair and his eyes, he could picture it. "Daddy, can we have one?" Max looks down, sees Casper, and chuckles, kneeling slowly with the baby in his arms. "You want another sibling?" Casper nods and leans, kissing his cousin's head gently before running down the hall.

You can't help but think about liking another baby in the house.

Standing in the bathroom, you gently remove your makeup and watch Max climb out of the shower. "Max?" Wrapping the towel around his waist, he grabs his toothbrush. He looks at you through the mirror, waiting for you to continue. "Um, I've been thinking about having another baby," you look down, embarrassed to even say this. "So have I, I'd like a little girl, but I'd be okay with another boy," Shrugging his shoulders, he starts to brush his teeth while you smile. "Yeah, I'd like a little girl too," Picturing yourself holding a baby with a pink hat.

"Do you have to go?" Holding your tea, you sit on the ottoman as Max packs a bag, fast and filled with anger. "Yes, I don't want to go, trust me. The last thing I want to do is leave you and the boys," Zipping it up, he almost breaks the zipper and leans on his dresser, the tension like a rubberband ready to snap.

"I'll tell them you went to visit Victoria," You never liked telling the boys what their father was really doing; they're only four years old. "That's smart, considering she lives far." Max stands up and faces you. It was early, far too early for you to even be up. But, the sound of his phone going off woke you, and here you sat with one lamp, wearing his shirt and drinking tea.

He couldn't love you more. "I love you," He can't help the words pass his lips as he stalks forward, pulling you up and kissing you deeply, but with such passion, you want to cry. It was the kiss he gave you, the same one that said goodbye in such a strange way that made your soul ache. Pulling away, Max smiles, seeing your eyes closed, taking in the kiss. "Come back to me," You whisper, eyes fluttering open as you stare into his. "I'll burn the world down to come home to you." Kissing you gently all over your face, arms strong around your body.

Kissing you one last time, he slips into the shadows, leaving you cold. You never thought Max would be your warmth.

"Mommy, I miss Daddy," Fabian whispers as you tuck him into bed. It was the fifth night Max was gone, and you were trying to explain why he had been gone so long. "I know, baby, I miss Daddy too." Lying on his bed, Casper is fast asleep and curled around his lion plushie Max got him when they were firstborn. Fabian curls more into your side as you read him another bedtime story. Soft breaths pull your attention, and you see Fabian is now passed out, clutching his lion stuffie close.

Sliding slowly off the bed, you're careful not to wake him. Bending down, you ghost over a kiss on both your boy's heads, slipping out of the room and closing the door. Resting your back on the door, you wish you had Max with you; the boys would love to sleep in your bed with your husband. They always slept with you two when he came back from his trips.

Closing your eyes, you take another deep breath, push off, and head to your bedroom. You hated how cold it felt still, how much you craved to smell just a hint of his cologne, his gummy smile when the boys did something that made him so happy, the way he moved through the house like he wasn't there, but you knew from the giggles that trailed him. You missed him in such a way that ached deep within. You fall asleep crying.

Max groans, rolling his neck as he steps into the penthouse. His guards nod, but he waves them away and slips his shoes off, not wanting to wake anyone. Max wants to slip into a hot shower, pull you into his arms, and fall asleep. He wants nothing more than to grab the boys, but he worries that seeing him slightly bruised and cut will scare them. So he just heads to your shared room and slips in; noticing how you're curled around his pillow, he feels a deep pang in his heart.

He missed you the most during the night, wanting nothing more than to reach over and feel your body melt into his. It's been cold at night, and he no longer refuses to deal with that. Sighing, he pulls at his shirt, groaning quietly as his ribs ache from the cuts and bruises on them. Mud and blood in his hair, face, and clothes, burying a dead body was not easy. Especially when the body used to be one of your men. Turning on the shower, his muscles relax as he thinks about how good it will feel to have the warmth on his cold-bitten skin.

Stripping off the rest of the clothes, Max stretches, steps into the shower, and groans at the heat seeping deep into his skin. Closing his eyes, Max leans his head back and enjoys the silence of his own home. Max craved silence as he grew up with such anger and hatred it was never quiet. Now, he loved the silence here, but it was a different type of silence. The silence meant everyone was happy, loved, and at peace. Max loved the noise; it was no longer filled with anger and hatred. It was one filled with childlike innocence and happiness; he craved it while he was away.

Max opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head and seeing the outline of your figure. "Join me?" It was a soft ask that required you to lift his shirt over your head and drop it. Max craved to feel your skin against him, like air, and he couldn't breathe. "You're home," You whisper, sighing when Max pulls you close to each other's naked body. "I'm home," He whispers, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. You loved having his body pressed against you, which made you feel safe, but it was also dizzy. Max was built and bigger than you, and it just made your brain go fuzzy around the edges.

Max knew what he was doing, pushing his body against you; you made it no secret that you loved he was bigger than you. "Max," You whisper, running your hands down his back as he presses himself against you, pressing kisses over your neck and shoulder. "Max," You whimper as his teeth scrape the weak spot over your neck that makes your legs feel weak. "Yes, Schat?" His voice husky and deep, pulling back his eyes dilated and dark. "I want another baby," You whisper, slowly spreading your legs, and Max groans.

Reaching down, you let your head thump back on the glass as his rough fingers ghost over your lips. "Yeah? Do you want another baby? Want me to fill you so deep?" His voice turns into a growl, fingers moving and pinching your clit before rubbing slow circles. You whimper, grabbing onto his shoulders, and nod your head fast. "Yes, fuck please, fuck me so deep, use me. Please, Max." You beg, the ache between your legs growing so that you could cry from him just burying himself deep inside you.

Max smirks, moving his hand up your back and into your hair, grabbing it and pulling your head back, and you hiss, the burn scratching something deep in you. "Spread your legs, my little siren." You giggle, having not heard that nickname in so long. You clumsily grab the bars in the shower and spread your legs, Max slowly getting to his knees and pressing kisses on your hip. "Sorry," You apologize, and Max arches an eyebrow. "Siren, I don't care." He chuckles at the hair. He could give a damn.

You gasp, closing your eyes when his tongue flattens and suddenly licks up and down with slow, long stripes. Body relaxing, you let your weight fall on his face, and he groans, feeling it. Large hands move up the back of your legs before slapping your ass. A surprised laugh escapes you, and Max smirks, blue eyes bright, as his lips wrap around your clit and suck before letting go and moving his tongue fast before slowing down. His hands move away from your ass and hold onto your hips and groan, feeling the way you're getting puffy.

He's missed this feeling, the way your pussy feels on his face. He could die like this happily. You whine at Max's pace, and he moves one of his hands, fingers moving down and slowly entering you before curling and moving in and out. You sigh, the feeling in you turning warm as you feel that slight tightness in the stomach grow more and more. Max, feeling your warm and cushy, pulls, pulls his fingers out and lays one last kiss. You open your eyes, vision hazy as you slip, and Max catches you holding you up.

"Turn around, siren." You nod and turn around, spreading your legs as you feel him stand right behind you. He groans, staring at your ass, slapping it, the sound bouncing off the shower walls. You groan, dropping your head at the heavy feeling of his hand slapping you. Max smirks as he jerks himself slowly. He moves and rubs himself between your lips, and your mouth waters, missing the weight of him in you. "Max, don't tease me." You beg, and he chuckles, leaning over your back.

His hand grabs your throat and arches you back. "Don't mouth off to me, siren, or else I'll choke you with my cock instead." Moaning at the idea, he chuckles and slowly slides in, your mouth dropping open as he stretches you open with a delicious feeling. Max bottoms out, groaning as he takes in the sight of your back arching and the reflection of the glass, your mouth open and eyes rolled back. "Ready?" You nod at his question as he pulls back and then forward.

The motion has you rocking forward, slamming your hands on the glass they drag down as his hips slam hard on your ass, fucking you hard and deep. "Fuck, feel so damn good." You whimper, trying to find something to hold onto. Reaching around, Max takes both your wrists in his large hand and pulls your arms back. The sting of everything itched something deep in you. "Right there, fuck Max," Max smirks and pulls your arms and moves his hips faster, watching your tits bounce; leaning back, he enjoys the view of him pulling out and being swallowed by your pussy.

Max pulls you, and you whimper at the loss. Spinning you around, he picks you up with ease, and you whine as he presses your back onto the cold shower window and you whine. Max wraps his arms under your legs and places your ankles on his shoulders as he slides into you again. Your fingers pull at his short blonde strands, groaning; he fucks deeper into you from this angle.

"Want a baby? Want me to fuck a baby into you? Fuck, you'd look gorgeous all swollen with my baby. Goddamn," Max groans, his legs burning, but he doesn't care to be driven by his need to fill you and make sure you know who's gotten you pregnant. "Yes, please, Max," You cry, tears swimming in your eyes. "Yeah, going to fuck you, full baby, beg for it." You whimper as you try to find the words, but your mind is blank, just being so fucked out of it. Max groans and reaches down, rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit. "Max," Your voice is airy and squeaky as you feel everything in your body becoming hot and tight.

"Going to come around, my cock; such a good girl for me, my good girl." You whine as he angles his hips and hits your spot. As you close your eyes and open your mouth, no noise emerges as you surround him. Max still fucks you through it and groans before pulling out and then sliding deep inside you and coming, his muscles so damn tight they could snap as he continued to fuck you, making sure it was staying inside.

You whine as he pulls you and slowly sits you down. "Max," Your throat raw, but he moves and slides two fingers in you, making sure nothing drips out. You whine, sensitive, and he kisses your face gently. "Sorry, want to make sure nothing goes to waste." He whispers and pulls his fingers out, and sucks them into his mouth. "Let's finish showering." Nodding your head, too tired to keep your eyes open, he smiles and holds you close as he cleans you both.

Picking you up bridal style, he dries you off and dresses you. Kissing you gently, he lays you in bed. But he doesn't lay down just yet, pulling on some boxers and shorts; he doesn't like not having the boys here. "I'm getting the boys," you whine as an answer, breathing evening out as you fall back asleep. Max smiles and moves through the house, going to the twins' room. Stepping in, he smiles, seeing them both with their lion stuffies. Moving carefully, not wanting to step on stray toys, he scoops both boys up and smiles at their weights in his arms.

Casper whines but cuddles closer, and Fabby just lies like dead weight. Walking back to the bedroom, he lays them down gently and tucks them in before climbing in. Max smiles, pulls you three close, and sighs. Max never wanted to give this up.

1K notes · View notes

paperclipninja · 3 days

Text

I'm gonna sound very old person yells at cloud but I don't care, I feel like I need to say this. We all (well most of us) know that messaging Neil with any headcanons/theories/wishes/hopes/dreams to do with the show is a no-go because it could potentially compromise the story he wants to tell or ends up telling. And yes, he is a grown up who chooses what to respond to etc and I think it's wonderful he engages with fans and answers a lot of lovely and interesting questions about his process, writing and journey etc.

However, there is another reason not to send theories and ideas about how the show should go to the show creator in the hope of a response: it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter whether a theory is correct, or a speculation may or may not play out. That is why fandom exists.

Online fandom is where we all come together to yell and cry and throw around weird-ass ideas and theories and look at art and read fanfic and unite in our love of characters and a show. A huge part of being in fandom, is the way fandom theories become like an understood little bit of fanon lore that some people attach to, others disregard. But it doesn't matter. And part of the fun of fandom, is when a new season or a new episode of the show comes out, you have this collective catalogue of ideas and theories and headcanons and you get to yell and scream, "omg it happened1" or "lol that that thing was ever talked about" or "thank god that theory didn't come to pass".

Wanting to know now (not that we ever will) and not wanting to wait until the next season to find out the answers diminishes the fandom experience. I cannot stress enough how much we are in the absolute peak of the fandom experience right now. The between seasons time is the ultimate time to be a part of a fandom (as I'm sure many people are well aware), knowing there's another season coming energises everyone to create and connect and speculate and it's glorious! I know it feels like it'll be like this forever, but it won't. Next season is the last and yes, there will be a flurry and uptick of all the energy and excitement once again, and I absolutely believe Good Omens fandom will live on and remain active and thrumming. But there won't be theories and what ifs and hunting for clues for the next season, and over time it will dwindle a little and plateau and some people will fall into other fandoms, and while it will probably bubble away, there won't be the anticipation that sits with us now.

My point is, fandom is where we get to throw around ideas and flail and be ridiculous and also serious sometimes, but it's all for us. For the fans. Showing Neil theories or getting in a flap about a particular speculation and asking if x, y, or z might happen isn't just about putting the creator in an awkward spot, it takes away what fandom is about. Just let this time be ours. If you haven't been in fandom before, enjoy it! Don't be in a hurry to seek definitive answers or know things either way.

It doesn't matter if any or none or all of the things that float around end up being correct or incorrect. Fandom isn't about being right. It's about being a part of a community and being able to share ideas and it's about it being FUN.

So TL;DR Stop sending Neil fan ideas because that is for fandom, not for the creator.

#good omens fandom #good omens #just a little rant #sorry I don't normally get ranty but here we are #I'll get off my soap box now

1K notes · View notes

utterlyazriel · 2 days

Text

let me keep you company

a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3 wc: 5.1k whoops synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.

You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.

Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.

But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.

You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.

Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.

Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.

All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.

And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.

But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.

You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.

But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.

One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—

A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.

Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.

"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.

Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.

"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.

Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.

You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.

"Not... much." You answer honestly.

There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.

He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."

You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.

"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.

Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.

It's going to be a long two months.

—

As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.

Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.

There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.

Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.

Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.

Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.

Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.

You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)

Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?

As if, you snort to yourself.

You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.

As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.

"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"

You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."

Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"

"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.

Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—

"You did not ask for a ride this morning."

Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.

"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."

You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.

"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.

His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."

You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.

"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.

Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.

You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.

You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.

"I'll be... going this way."

Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.

"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.

He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."

When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.

“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.

You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.

Guess you have company.

—

Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.

Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.

And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.

The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.

In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.

“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.

Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.

“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”

It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.

Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.

The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.

You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.

When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.

The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.

"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."

The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.

You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—

"Y/n."

Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.

"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."

"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.

It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.

Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.

Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.

Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.

"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."

Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.

"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.

Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.

You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.

"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.

It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.

"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.

The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.

Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.

"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.

You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.

You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.

The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.

By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.

That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.

"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"

Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.

"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."

You hmph. "Maybe I will."

You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.

"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."

Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."

Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"

You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.

"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"

"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"

The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.

"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.

You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"

Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?

"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."

And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.

Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.

—

It continues like that for the rest of the week.

Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.

The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.

It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.

Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.

As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.

"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.

"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.

"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.

"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."

Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."

You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”

You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.

"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."

"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.

The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.

Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.

"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.

Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.

"Go on then," She urges you.

For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.

You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."

He's waiting by the time you get there.

Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.

Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.

"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?

Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.

"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.

You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.

"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."

You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.

Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.

"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."

"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"

He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.

This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.

"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.

Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.

He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.

Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.

Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.

Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.

#YIPPEE! written in like... 3 days #no editing less go #love it or leave it #a break from all the doom and gloom of wtssf #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger x you #sloane writes

807 notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 3 days

Text

moonlit beach

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, face sitting, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fluff, vacation, proposal, bratty!reader for the first bit lol

you walk over to the boys, already in a bad mood from having to redo your makeup as it kept looking patchy.

you step between the couches, interrupting their conversation as you stop in front of rafe. you place your hand out, looking down at your boyfriend.

“card.” it's not a request, not a question.

“what's wrong baby?” rafe coos, causing kelce to snicker at his pout.

“give me your credit card. im going to buy myself a birthday gift on your dime since you didn't get me anything.” you say, lowering your hand more to get your point across.

“baby, i told you it just got delayed. it will be here friday, i promise.” rafe takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your palm. he used to care about showing affection in front of his friends, but not anymore, his focus always solely on you whenever you're in view.

“yeah right.” you roll your eyes. “you forgot. come on, card.”

rafe reaches into his wallet with a sigh. he truly does have plans for your birthday, it just landed on an awkward day of the week for celebrations.

he places the credit card into your hand, watching you turn on your heel without another word.

“dude, just tell her you're taking her to the maldives.” kelce says, topper nodding in agreement.

“that would ruin the point of the surprise.” rafe rolls his eyes. “what, do you also want me to tell her that i bought a diamond ring and that im going to propose to her there?”

“well, guess you'll just have to deal with her being mad at you.” topper shrugs.

“it's alright, i think it's kinda hot.” rafe adjusts his pants not so subtly.

“ew, dude!” topper looks away suddenly while kelce makes a gagging motion.

“wake up, princess.” rafe presses kisses along the bridge of your nose until your eyes flutter open. you look happy for a split second before remembering rafe didn't get you anything for your birthday, a frown spreading across your features.

“baby.” rafe coos out, pressing a kiss to your still lips. he's planning to tell you later today so you have time to pack before the flight tomorrow evening, but rafe can't help himself, wanting to get inside of you while you're still pissed at him.

“fuck off, cameron.” you roll over, intending to get more sleep when you feel rafe push himself against you, his morning wood evident in his pants.

“come on baby, i told you ive got a really good gift for tomorrow. don't be mad.” rafe presses kisses to your shoulder, tugging the strap of your pajama shirt down to give him access to more skin.

you hate your traitorous pussy as it floods with wetness. you flip over suddenly, pushing rafe onto his back.

“you're gonna eat me out then im gonna ride you. i don't wanna hear you complain.” you say sternly. it has been a couple days since you slept with rafe on your birthday morning, happy and glowing as he gently thrusted inside of you, muttering how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.

“take those shorts off.” rafe just smirks, watching as you quickly disrobe before crawling on top of rafe. you usually would kiss him, but you bypass his lips to place your cunt down on his face, knees on either side of his head.

rafe grabs your hips, not even giving you a moment to adjust before he pulls you down onto his awaiting mouth.

you let out a moan and reach forward to grip the headboard as rafes tongue snakes through your folds before lapping at your clit.

you press yourself further down onto his face, a mess of juice and spit covering his chin and nose, but rafe couldn't care less, loving the way you take effortless control as your hips rock back and forth.

rafe pushes his tongue into your cunt, feeling the way your walls clench around him. you let out a moan as his nose bumps against your clit as he begins to thrust his tongue in and out.

as much as you'd like to cum all over his face, you want rafes cock inside of you.

you turn suddenly, crawling down his body with your ass to his face as you pull his pajama pants down to reveal his cock, standing straight up and ready for you.

you position yourself over top, not caring when rafe whines out.

“turn around baby, i wanna see your face.”

you roll your eyes despite him not being able to see, sinking yourself down on his length with a moan.

your hips begin to buck, only focusing on your orgasm as you rub your pussy with the hand not on rafes thigh for support.

you blame having gone without an orgasm for a few days for how quickly you can feel your high building, but clearly rafe isn't far behind as his hips begin to thrust up into you.

his hands reach out to grip your ass as it bounces in front of him, the plush flesh too tempting not to touch.

you let out a growl, pushing yourself to move faster up and down on his cock until your high suddenly breeches and you fall forward into the mattress between his legs with a moan.

rafe moves quickly to his knees, pushing his cock deep inside of you as he cums as well, flooding your pussy.

“im gonna take a shower.” you say, kneeling back up as you look back at rafe. usually you love to allow him to keep his cock buried inside of you after you both cum, but not when you're mad at him.

“alright.” rafe says, sighing when you move away and his cock slips free as you climb off the bed, legs clearly tired from fucking. “just don't take too long, you have to pack.”

your footsteps stop. “pack for what?”

“im taking you to the maldives tomorrow. happy birthday.” the words barely leave rafes mouth before you're turning and jumping back onto the bed, kissing him between mumbles of thank you and how much you love him.

“i can't believe i was such a bitch to you and you had this planned the whole time.” you pout, burying your head further into rafes bare chest, rubbing your face against him as a cat trying to mark their scent would.

“baby, it's okay.” rafe coos out, not brave enough to say that he liked it. he likes you like this even more, glowing and happy.

“i love you.” you coo out, looking out onto the ocean, keeping your ear against his chest to hear his heartbeat, your favorite sound in the world.

“i love you too baby.” rafe runs his hand over your back, up until it meets the string of your bikini, then back down until his hands hits your bottoms, then occasionally over that to squeeze your ass. “i know i took you out for a birthday dinner back in the outer banks, but would you allow me to take you out again tonight?”

you pout, nodding quickly. “of course.” you pick your head up to press a kiss to rafes lips.

“how did you like the food?” rafe asks. there's really no point in questioning it, your moans every time you took a bite and asking for seconds told him everything.

“so good… can we go back there again tomorrow?” you squeeze rafes hand that's entangled with your own as you walk down the moonlit beach.

“anything you want. this trip is for you.” rafe says, hoping you can't tell that his palm is sweaty as you get closer to the spot he chose, just having to round a bushel of trees to see the lights.

he didn't expect to feel nervous, but with every step his worry builds. what if you say no? rafe knows it's ridiculous, but the small nagging voice in the back of his head is growing louder every minute.

“oh my gosh!” you squeal out as you see the string lights set up on the beach, over wooden slats placed on top of the sand for an even surface. “it's so cute!”

rafe smiles gently, glad he chose a cool color for the twinkling lights to match the moonlight. you change your path to walk around it, but rafe pulls you closer.

“rafe-” you begin to say that you probably shouldn't go onto random peoples set ups on the beach, but he just looks at you with a comforting gaze that would make you go along with anything, trusting him implicitly.

it doesn't hit you until you're under the lights. the realization suddenly sinks in as you look at rafe. he nods gently, like he knows the thoughts running through your mind.

rafe sinks to one knee, confirming your suspicion. he reaches into his pocket and delivers a beautiful speech before showing you the gleaming ring, a speech you are both bound to forget in your excitement and nerves.

“will you marry me?”

“yes!” you don't even wait for rafe to stand up, launching yourself to the ground with him as your arms fly around his shoulders. you managed to hold in tears until this point as you cry into his shoulder.

rafe holds you close, allowing you to feel every emotion in his steady arms.

“come on baby, let's make sure the ring fits.” rafe helps you stand easily before he pulls the ring out of the box, managing to snap it closed when you flung yourself on him so it didn't get lost in the sand.

you hold your hand out, a fresh batch of tears coming as rafe slides the ring onto your finger, hoping the photographers hidden in the treeline got good shots.

“oh my god, we are gonna get married!” you squeal out as it hits you all over again.

“you're gonna be my wife.” rafe smiles as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“im gonna get to call you husband.” tears flood in your eyes as you kiss him again, again, and again.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1

760 notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 2 days

Text

You Get Me So High

JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON, STEPCEST, loss of virginity, toxic relationship (JJ's kind of an asshole), jealousy, manipulation, underage drinking, drug use, brief Rafe x reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: To everyone else, JJ is just being an overprotective brother. To you, he's being a possessive asshole.

⭑

You crossed your arms over your chest, watching with a scowl as Kie entertained some guy you’d seen throw a smile her way earlier. You were leaning against a tree, acting as more of an observer than an actual participant as the music from someone’s speaker reached your ears. The tanned girl looked like she was having fun. If only you could relate…

You took a swig of beer, swallowing down your bitterness with it.

The last guy you’d been talking to had been effectively scared off, his eyes widening slightly when a familiar arm snaked its way over your shoulder. You hadn’t needed to lift your gaze to confirm who it was, the sudden nervous fidget from the guy before you told you all you needed to know. Before the familiar blond had even managed to say anything, you’d let out a small sigh, disappointment weighing you down already.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Never mind the fact that he was overstepping into your personal life, but he had to be rude about it too.

The cute brunette had stuttered, face reddening at JJ’s words. Your heart sank at the sight, gaze pleading when his eyes met yours again, but by the look on his face, you could tell that this was one argument he didn’t think was worth it. Watching him mutter an apology before stumbling away, you didn’t know what you hated more—JJ’s behavior or every guy’s lack of balls to stand up to him.

“He’s an asshole, trust me,” was all JJ had said when you gave him an even look.

Without sparing him a word nor another glance, you’d stomped away in search of something to drink.

That was how you found yourself isolated from everyone else, watching your friends have fun—namely Kie—while you were reduced to standing in the corner. You didn’t see the point, to be honest. If you got too ‘wild’ JJ would come along trying to shield you from interested eyes, and if you dared to attempt a conversation with any guy, he’d come along telling them to get lost.

To anyone else he was an overprotective brother.

You knew better though.

“You’re so dramatic,” a familiar voice drawled, and you didn’t bother to even turn your head.

Taking another sip of your drink, you pursed your lips.

“How so?” you quietly wondered.

You felt his fingers graze your jaw, and you hated the way your lashes fluttered.

Hidden away in the dark, the two of you weren’t so visible, and you suspected that was the reason for his boldness. His fingers danced towards your neck, and your heart skipped a beat when one dipped beneath the collar of your shirt, grazing a mark you both knew was there. It made you shudder, and at that you slapped his hand away.

The blond sighed.

“I didn’t want you getting caught up with that guy,” he said. “I didn’t tell you to stop having fun.”

“You might as well have,” you snapped. “You always do.”

“…because your version of fun is shaking your ass against guys who wanna fuck you.”

“At least someone does,” you muttered into your cup.

JJ heard it loud and clear though despite the music and low volume of your voice. You could feel his gaze boring a hole into the side of your face, and you refused to look at him. You finished your drink, starting to toss it on the ground before thinking better of it. Kie would have your head.

“Don’t,” JJ finally said.

You swiveled your head towards him.

“Don’t what?” you wondered with a shrug, face even despite the fire you knew was in your eyes. “Don’t wonder why you don’t want to fuck me but don’t want anyone else to either?”

You watched him press his lips together at that, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glanced around. You hated the way he wouldn’t look at you now, so bold a moment ago. Eventually you rolled your eyes, softly scoffing to yourself before pushing past him.

You didn’t spare JJ another thought as you threw your cup away, finding John B. and asking him when he planned on leaving. You all were staying over at The Chateau, and you shouldn’t have been shocked to know he was going to leave when everyone else wanted to. Annoyed with JJ more than usual, you chose to take your chances and walk back.

You didn’t tell anyone.

It was summer, but the ocean breeze cooled the night air, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing you’d at least had the sense to steal JJ’s jacket. Thoughts of the blond made you frown, and a sour feeling twisted deep within your gut. You longed for the days where your fights were just normal sibling bullshit—being accused of stealing his shirts and eating all of his chips and blaming the missing beer on each other.

Now, your fights were so far from normal sibling bullshit.

Your heart stuttered at the memory of his lips on yours, an impulsive decision after getting high in his bedroom one night. When he hadn’t pushed you away, you hadn’t known what to do, never expecting yourself to get so far. You were even more stumped when he kissed you back, his hand resting on your neck while the other dug into your waist.

You didn’t know why you hadn’t expected it.

Mixed in with those fights about clothes and food and getting on each other’s nerves were also moments that weren’t known by anyone but you. JJ had always been touchy, but the nights in which he’d brush your waist instead of your shoulder left you restless. Sometimes when Pope would say something especially silly, the blond would throw you a look that had you giggling.

…but then it would linger, and you’d feel heat cling to your cheeks, and you’d swear that he ran his eyes over you in a way a brother shouldn’t. When no one else was around, he’d pull you into his lap and rest his face against your neck and rub circles into the small of your back. Despite how much you laid awake at night thinking on these interactions, you told yourself you were imagining things.

Sure, JJ wasn’t your brother by blood, but that shouldn’t have mattered.

Your parents were married, and that made you siblings, and in the eyes of the law—and society—that made anything between you wrong…and illegal. With that being said, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from overanalyzing every exchange, trying and failing to convince yourself that you guys were just close. That’s all.

…but with your parents out and a blunt being passed between you, you hadn’t been able to stop your brain from fixating on it. Ignoring the way the walls pulsed, you’d traced the even rise and fall of his chest. You’d watched his long fingers take the blunt, the low light glinting off of his rings, and you’d watched him bring it up to his pink lips. His hair had seemed messier that night, eyes bluer, and before you knew it…

You kissed him.

You and JJ kissed for what felt like hours, pawing at each other and dragging your lips against each other’s skin. You’d taken a few hits in between, and after some time, you’d just laid there…staring at each other and gently reaching out to each other and occasionally kissing some more. His dad had been God knows where, and your mom had been working, and when you woke up…

JJ pretended like nothing had happened.

That was how it always went ever since.

Sometimes you were high, sometimes sober, and you’d find yourselves wrapped up in each other. Kissing and biting at skin and pulling at fabric. You’d spend hours touching each other, leaving marks that only you two would know the origin of, and when things started to get out of hand, JJ would pull away, convincing you to do the same. The next day—sometimes even just hours later—it was like nothing ever happened.

You watched him disappear with countless girls at parties and said nothing. Days where you’d be with Kie and run into him and some unknown girl, you’d say nothing. When your eyes would zero in on a mark you know you didn’t leave, you’d say nothing. You bit your tongue, because you got it. You and JJ couldn’t actually be anything, not for real anyway, and even if you chose to be something in secret, you hadn’t decided that yet.

So, you understood it.

What you didn’t understand though was the way his presence descended over you like a dark cloud anytime you so much as laughed with another man. If one even approached you, here he’d come playing the protective brother role so well. John B. and Pope found it admirable, and Kie may not have agreed, but she understood. JJ was just being a good brother.

Only you knew it was because he didn’t want to chance anyone else fucking you.

“Are you crazy?”

That familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you cursed yourself for being so wrapped up in your mind to not even hear the approach of a familiar vehicle. Huffing, you turned to roll your eyes at JJ as John B. slowed down. The blond was leaning out of the passenger window, but when John B. stopped, he completely hopped out.

He didn’t look happy.

“Are you deaf? You didn’t see me calling you?”

You hadn’t actually—your phone on silent—and that was what you told him.

“That’s a great volume for it to be at,” he sarcastically replied.

His hand was firm on your back as he pushed you towards the van, climbing into the back behind you as Pope took his place in the passenger seat. You sat as far away from JJ as possible—next to Kie—and you were more than eager to ignore the blond and involve yourself in the conversation they’d been having before spotting you. You could feel your brother’s gaze on you the entire time, and you didn’t spare him a glance.

“He just worries about you,” Kie quietly told you later when JJ was wrapped up in some debate with the two up front. “I don’t agree with how crazy he gets, but if I had a sibling, I don’t think I’d be too much better.”

You bit your tongue, fighting back a bitter smirk. How could you tell Kie that JJ’s ‘worry’ had nothing to do with genuine concern? How could you tell her that under the cover of darkness he’d kiss you and taste you and curl his fingers inside of you, but refused to go beyond that all the while preventing you from going beyond that with anyone else? How could you tell her that so much of your fighting lately was because he wanted to keep you at arms’ length while refusing to give you up?

JJ was a selfish asshole.

You were out of the van almost as soon as John B. parked, and you were searching for a t-shirt you knew you’d left over when the rest of them finally joined you. You could hear Kie searching for something to drink, and when Pope turned to you—a question on his tongue—you shook your head.

“No, I’m…I’m going to sleep in the van,” you exhaled, feeling emotionally drained. “I’m kind of tired.”

They tried to convince you of otherwise, but you waved them off. You could feel JJ’s eyes on you, and you only threw him a dirty look as you left. You felt a tad better after getting undressed, and you heaved a sigh after pulling the tee over your head. With a grimace, you realized it was JJ’s, and you both loved and hated that it still smelled like him.

Staring up at the roof of the Twinkie, you thought to yourself that this couldn’t go on forever. JJ couldn’t keep messing with your heart and your head, and realistically, you knew that if you wanted something of a life and normal experiences, you might have to distance yourself from your friends entirely. You couldn’t even talk to a boy with JJ around, let alone form healthy attachments that didn’t involve your own brother.

It's like he was keeping you in his back pocket, and you didn’t like it.

You were drifting in and out of sleep when you heard the van door open, and you weren’t concerned by your lack of alarm. You surmised it was one of the gang, but somehow you hadn’t anticipated that it’d be JJ. When his voice reached your ears, you were suddenly much more awake, and you leaned back on your elbows with a frown, watching him climb in and close the door behind him.

“No,” you snapped, fully sitting up, now. “This is my spot, and I don’t know what excuse you gave everyone else, but it was a waste because I don’t want you here.”

He ran his hand through his hair, fixing you with an even look that made you roll your eyes.

“I’m not here for that…”

“Sure,” you mumbled, pushing your back against the wall and crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m not,” he firmly repeated. “Look, you’re mad at me and… I don’t like going to bed with us pissed at each other.”

“…and yet you do everything in your power to make that happen.”

“Y/N.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you finally hissed at him, tears kissing your eyes. “I can’t say shit when you’re off fucking God knows who, but if I so much as blink at another guy, here you come.”

JJ at least had the sense to look ashamed, his gaze lowering.

“You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else-.”

“I do want you,” he harshly whispered. “You have to know that by now, but I…”

You watched him take a deep breath, eyes troubled, and you pulled your knees to your chest. You didn’t move when the blond reached for you, the tips of his fingers grazing your leg, and you hated the way it made your heart race. When his gaze met yours again, you swallowed, finding it difficult. He ran those blue eyes over you, and the look in them was wholly familiar.

“I’m supposed to protect you,” he whispered in the small space. “When our parents got married, I thought ‘hey’. I have a sister now, and I need to look out for her and protect her from assholes who’ll try to get in her pants.”

JJ sighed, and it sounded frustrated.

“…and now I’m one of those assholes.”

You glanced away, frowning.

“…but I want this just as much as you, so who cares?”

“…and little kids want candy all day every day.”

“You do not know better than me, JJ Maybank! God, you would swear that you’re soo much older than me by how you talk down to me sometimes, but we’re one year apart, you ass!”

He had moved closer, now, a deep frown on his own face.

“We can’t be anything.”

It looked like it took him a lot to say that, and you looked between his eyes, chest aching at his words. They were true, but that didn’t mean they hurt or stung any less. With a deep breath, you blinked, jaw clenching.

“Fine,” you whispered. “Then stop kissing me.”

You watched his face fall at that, and you raised a brow at him.

“Stop touching me, stop sneaking around with me and crawling into my bed almost every night, JJ. Stop…stopping me from living a life I can actually experience in public.”

He didn’t like the sound of that, and when he turned away, you bitterly nodded.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You got close to him, tone haughty.

“You keep yourself from fucking me out of some sense of morality and integrity or whatever, but not only is the damage practically already done, you’re making it worse by doing the very thing you won’t let me do,” you choked out. “When you want me, you can find some girl to distract yourself with, but all I have is you.”

You moved away, grabbing your blanket and preparing to lie back down.

“How is that fair?” you muttered.

He didn’t respond, and you turned your back to him, staring at the inside of the van and just wanting him to leave. He laid down with you instead, and beyond annoyed and saddened by the conversation, you didn’t have the energy to tell him to get out.

You forced yourself to find sleep with your back to him.

You could taste blood on your tongue, but despite this, you couldn’t allow yourself to release your lip from the pressure of your teeth. JJ’s lips were pressed to your throat, leaving open mouthed kisses, his breathing heavy and uneven. Your own chest was heaving, and your hand was wrapped around his wrist. You liked the feel of it moving in your grip every time he thrust his fingers into you.

Your thighs were spread wide, JJ standing between them, and you could faintly hear the splashes of your friends goofing around in the water. You tried to be mindful of that, knowing that any moment now your prolonged absences would be noticed and investigated. You almost wanted to curse JJ for following you down here, but with his fingers curling inside of you, it was hard to remember why this predicament was bad.

Turning his head, he captured your lips in a kiss, and you were hungry in kissing him back. He tasted the inside of your mouth as his fingers stretched you out, wrist snapping between your thighs and making your toes curl. You knew that you’d have to jump in the water the very second you went back above deck, afraid to see what kind of mess you were making—the mess JJ was currently contributing to.

You hadn’t even realized he’d followed you until you’d turned to go back after grabbing your snorkeling mask. You personally hadn’t thought anything of John B.’s comment on your bathing suit, not unfamiliar with the casual flirtation from both him and Pope. It meant nothing, both of them remaining consistent in that behavior with Kie as well—something even JJ was guilty of.

So, you didn’t know why it’d set him off today of all days.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t touched you in weeks. Between locking your door at night and skipping out on outings and just all-around distancing yourself more, JJ hadn’t even had any opportunities to get you alone. He talked a big game about wanting to do right by you, but at the end of the day, you knew that it’d be up to you to really put in some effort to ending this.

…and it was a good effort, but JJ was just more daring than you’d anticipated.

Cornering you and fingering you below deck of the boat with all of your friends just outside was something that you would’ve put even past him. It was too risky and stupid and had potential for drama you didn’t even want to think about. However, it was clear that his desire for you outweighed all of that.

When you gasped into his mouth, the blond cursed.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Quiet…”

You wanted to tell him that you wouldn’t need to be quiet if he hadn’t basically attacked you, but you couldn’t find the words. His thumb was circling your clit, and three of his fingers were creating a delicious burn that had your lips parting against his mouth. Your free arm was haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, hips bucking against his hand. His free hand was digging into your thigh.

You hissed, struggling to speak.

“JJ,” you quietly whined. “I think… I think I’m about to…”

You couldn’t get the words out, but he understood them.

Pulling away from you, he dropped to his knees, fingers still pushing into your dripping cunt. He didn’t hesitate to lean in, burying his face between your thighs with his lips covering your folds, tongue swiping back and forth. The sensations had your eyes rolling, and when he sucked on the hood of your clit, your reached up to cover your mouth.

Your other hand twisted into his hair.

He didn’t stop thrusting his fingers into you even as you came, mouth still attached as well. You couldn’t stop the movement of your hips, feeling possessed as you lifted them in time with his wrists, fucking yourself onto his fingers and grinding against his face. He hummed, and the vibrations caused a shudder to crawl down your spine.

You felt like you were coming forever, dropping your hand and hissing when he lazily massaged your walls with the pads of his fingers. When he pulled them out, he dragged his tongue up your core one last time before sliding his fingers into his mouth. You were still catching your breath when he handed you your snorkeling mask, and you hated the sight of that small smirk dancing along his lips.

Pulling your bathing suit bottoms back into place, you hurried past him, uncaring if you bumped into him or not.

That was how it always went.

Outside of that first kiss, things were always on JJ’s terms, and sometimes you wondered if that first kiss was even an exception. After all, it had been years of flirtatious looks and teasing touches leading up to that moment. That kiss was something JJ clearly wanted—evident in the way he’d kissed you back—and you sometimes wondered if you would’ve even entertained such thoughts if it hadn’t been for him.

You hated how little control you seemed to have in this ordeal. You’d gone out of your way to do what JJ always claimed he needed to do, and what happened? The very thing you both knew you needed to put a stop to. Despite what JJ liked to preach, it seemed he was never going to let you go, and the unfairness of it all was really getting to you.

“Do you think he remembers that he already slept with her? Or are we witnessing a rare event, right now?”

Pope’s words created a heaviness in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at what they were looking at. JJ was indeed talking to a girl you’d seen him disappear with before, and the sight caused a burning sensation behind your eyes. You didn’t understand how JJ just didn’t care how shitty this was for you, and while they were distracted, you slipped away.

You were at a house party on Figure 8, a rare occurrence, and you had Kie to thank. The host wasn’t the average classist jerk, but he’d made it clear Pogues were only allowed if they were invited by a Kook, and Kie’s one foot in one foot out life came in handy. While your friends were distracted by the prospect of JJ sleeping with the same girl twice, you found yourself getting a drink in the kitchen.

When you felt someone brush against your arm, you thought nothing of it.

“I know you,” a voice said after some time.

Glancing up, you were greeted by a very familiar face.

“You’re JJ’s sister.”

Rafe seemed proud of himself for recognizing you, index finger pointed straight at you as he nodded. Unsure of what to say, you merely sent him a tight smile as you raised your brows as if to say ‘in the flesh’. You turned back to finish dipping your drink when he moved, and when you looked at him, he was leaning back against the counter, gaze curious.

“Don’t you usually have a bodyguard or two with you?” he hummed, a glint in his eye that promised nothing good.

You found that you liked it.

“They’re a little distracted at the moment,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

The dirty blond hummed to himself, and you didn’t miss the secretive smile on his lips.

“They’re slacking on their job,” he said, suddenly excitedly exhaling as he grabbed a drink of his own. “Which makes mine a whole lot easier…”

You gave the rich kid a look, and he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“I’m heading upstairs. It’s a little crowded down here…and you’re welcome to join me…”

His blue eyes gave you a quick onceover before he brushed by you, and you tapped your finger against your drink, contemplating his words. Rafe was a rich asshole that was probably the closest thing any of you had to a mortal enemy—the guys especially. He was a classist dick who’d gotten into quite a few fights with your brother and your friends…but he would also fuck just about anyone.

You knew that Rafe was mainly motivated by your relation—blood or not—to JJ, and the effect it’d have on him if he knew Rafe had hooked up with you in any capacity. You also suspected that he probably had a hard on for slumming it with Pogues—some type of power imbalance kink going on there—but you didn’t care.

All you cared about was the fact that JJ kept pushing and pulling you without a care as to how it made you feel. He claimed he didn’t want to cross a certain line with you out of fear of becoming the very thing he’d sworn to protect you from, but you felt that line was crossed the first time his face had found refuge between your thighs.

Both JJ and Rafe were assholes…but not only was Rafe the kind of asshole to give you what you wanted, he’d also never pretend to be so righteous.

Rafe didn’t give a fuck about being righteous.

…and that was how you found yourself following after him, looking behind you to make sure you weren’t being watched by anyone who mattered. Rafe was just inside the hallway when you reached the top of the stairs, almost as if he knew you’d follow him. Was there an air of desperation that surrounded you or was he just that confident?

You grabbed onto his arm as he led you into a bedroom.

“JJ’s not looking for you, is he?”

His voice came from behind you as you glanced about the room.

“Do you care?” you wondered, looking over his shoulder to watch him dump a few pills onto the desk.

He chuckled to himself, perfect teeth winking at you.

“Of course not,” he quietly said. “He’s just always one step behind you, hovering over your shoulder.”

His tone made you tense, but his next words made your heart drop.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that brother of yours wanted you for himself.”

You looked away, clearing your throat.

“…and I think you watch too much porn.”

When you looked at him, he was approaching you, now, softly laughing to himself. He pressed the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he studied you, that same glint in his eye that both scared and excited you.

“Maybe…”

You watched him place a pill on his tongue, and when he leaned in, you nervously let him kiss you, swallowing that same pill. Kissing Rafe wasn’t like kissing JJ. Never mind the fact that you didn’t feel any guilt or feel like this was wrong, but Rafe kissed you like he was trying to get you to have sex with him. It made your eyes roll, and when his hand landed on your throat, you reached up to touch it. He forced you to step back, and when the back of your legs hit the bed, you shakily sat down, his lips still on yours.

You knew that this was reckless—dangerous even—because Rafe didn’t seem the type to stop if you asked him to stop. It was a good thing you were angry and hurting and feeling petty because otherwise you didn’t think you’d be so sure of your actions, right now. You didn’t care about Rafe, and so you didn’t have any stakes in this—no concerns about your heart and your feelings and what tomorrow would be like.

Every time you kissed JJ, you felt like your chest was going to explode. You felt something for him, evident in the way it felt like getting stabbed every time you saw him kiss another girl. It was why you always gave in, not strong enough to seriously resist him every time he got his hands on you. Sometimes you protested as of late, sure, but they were shallow, only said out of obligation and always abandoned for what your heart actually wanted.

…and JJ knew this.

Maybe that was what made it hurt more, the fact that JJ knew what he meant to you and still kept you in this unfair corner. He had too much so-called integrity to go all in with you while simultaneously using other girls, but he was also too selfish to just let you go and live an openly romantic life. It was a constant push and pull that fucked you up…and also drove you to place your hand on the back of Rafe’s neck.

You were lying down now, the rich blond on top of you, and you’d long forgotten about JJ and your friends downstairs. It felt good to kiss someone who wasn’t your brother, and when Rafe’s hand found its way between your legs, you decided that felt good too. You gasped into his mouth, and you felt him smile into the kiss, fingers sinking into you.

“Shit,” he quietly hissed, dragging the word out as he kissed down your jaw.

You lifted your hips up against his hand, holding him closer the wetter you became. You were panting beneath him, hands running over him, and there was a bout of disbelief in the back of your mind—disbelief that you were about to lose your virginity to Rafe Cameron in some stranger’s bedroom at a party.

There were a few moments in your life where you’d swear that if you and JJ didn’t become siblings after you were already born, you’d think you were actually related with how telepathically linked you seemed to be. This seemed to be one of those moments, because it was as if he’d read your mind and knew exactly what you were up to.

When the door swung open, you were only startled.

It never occurred to you that JJ would be on the other side should someone come knocking.

It didn’t until you looked over, a protest already on Rafe’s lips when your gaze met a familiar blue one. Rafe’s words died in the air as he registered just who had interrupted you, and for a split second you took satisfaction in the way JJ’s eyes widened at the sight before him. He looked shocked and disgusted all rolled into one, something else glinting in his gaze you just couldn’t name.

Your satisfaction, however, disappeared as quickly as it came.

Any and every emotion in JJ’s gaze was quickly replaced by fury.

So much happened so quick, and before Rafe even had time to get off of you—an arrogant comment on his lips no doubt—JJ had grabbed the other blond and was already punching him. Your surprised shriek drew the attention of your friends who were apparently upstairs too…looking for you. You’d pushed yourself back further up the bed just as the room became more crowded.

Kie was the first to reach you, John B. and Pope hurrying to get JJ off of the older blond.

The other girl was saying something to you, and as you looked at her, you realized that this was the moment the Ecstasy chose to kick in. You were trying to focus on her words, but everything felt distractingly different, and you could only blink when she grabbed your lids, staring into your eyes.

She cursed.

“JJ, JJ!” she struggled to get his attention. “She’s high, we need to go.”

Those words seemed to whip him into shape better than any efforts from John B. or Pope, the blond immediately abandoning Rafe and making his way to you. When he touched your face, you could only smile at the feeling before remembering that you didn’t like him at the moment. When you jerked away from his hands, your brother heaved an irritated sigh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, grabbing you despite your protests.

Kie helped him, and you didn’t even care to look back to see if Rafe was okay. You only wanted JJ off of you, but considering your vulnerable state, you knew that wasn’t happening anytime soon. You were thankful the music was loud, no one privy to what exactly went on upstairs, worried the host might decide none of you were welcome back. Pope and John B. were close behind you three as you were practically walked to the van like a child.

Seated just inside the van, you looked away from JJ when John B. said he was going to start the vehicle. The blond didn’t like that, grabbing your face and making you look at him. His actions were met with a loud and painful slap, and the sting in your hand didn’t even bother you. Kie and Pope looked out of place as they glanced between you, wondering what they should do.

The silence was loud.

“Just get in the van, guys,” he slowly said. “We’re fine.”

Neither one of them looked sure of that, but accepting that this was something between siblings, they reluctantly did with Pope moving to the front. You could hear both of them talking to John B. just as JJ took your face into his hand again, fingers pressing into your chin and jaw. You didn’t miss the way his own jaw ticked as he looked at you, and you wondered what he was thinking about.

“Not here,” he quietly bit out, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “Alright…?”

You felt your lips tremble, and you couldn’t stop a few tears from escaping, JJ’s face falling at the sight.

“You treat me like shit,” you whispered just loud enough for his ears only, leaning in closer. “I wish that I’d fucked him.”

JJ’s entire visage changed at that, a stricken look on his face as he seemed to realize Rafe hadn’t manipulated you or forced you into anything. His blue eyes were wide as he looked at you, something passing through them that you couldn’t place, and you didn’t care to figure it out. You only moved away from him, scooting back further into the van and lying down. When Kie offered you some water, you took it.

She patted your head as you lied back down, turning to answer some question from Pope just as John B. started the vehicle. As it purred to life, your gaze traveled to JJ who was sitting opposite you, his blue eyes never leaving you. He didn’t look happy at all, and even through your ecstatic haze, you found yourself wishing you had fucked Rafe just to make whatever was to come worth it.

JJ’s hand was tight around your wrist as he pinned it beside your head. The only sound in John B.’s bedroom was that of your harsh breathing and the rustling of sheets. That dull aching pain was still present from when JJ had first slid his cock into you, but it was overshadowed by the full sensation his fingers had never been able to give you. Your free hand pressed into the small of his back, and his teeth in your shoulder reminded you of how angry the blond was.

John B., Pope, and Kie had only stayed for a few minutes before leaving again, using the excuse of going by the store to get you things you’d need while you came down. You suspected they wanted to give you and JJ some privacy, hoping you’d argue whatever it was they thought you needed to argue out of your system. The brunette had told JJ that it was fine to put you in his room.

You should’ve known that things weren’t going to be that simple.

“Rafe?” he’d screamed at you, and the drugs in your system made his voice seem louder which in turn made your anger feel stronger.

“If you want me to say sorry, I’m not,” you’d tearfully whispered. “We aren’t together…and I can fuck whoever I want just like you do.”

Your words had given him pause, and you could see that JJ at least felt bad. You were sure he always felt bad, but it had never stopped him. Whatever moral high ground he’d been trying to stand on was backfiring, and in his attempts to not be the bad guy, he’d become the worst guy.

“How do you think that makes me feel?” you’d spat, although it didn’t come out as angry as you wanted. “You tell me that we can’t be together. That we can’t do this, and we can’t be anything…but then you kiss me and rob me of just about every first I have left and then you push me away. Over and over and over again.”

You hated the way your voice cracked, unable to get a handle on your emotions.

“That’s mean, JJ. Do you get that?” you angrily looked between his eyes. “You are so mean to me…”

Your voice shook, and JJ knelt before you, reaching for you, but you snatched your hands away. He settled for resting them on your thighs instead, seemingly at war with himself as he sighed.

“I’m not trying to be,” he slowly said.

“Well, try harder!”

Your outburst made his expression harden, and you hated the way he glared at you, now.

“Like you? Hmm?” he wondered, and you looked away. “You’re…you’re going to pretend like you weren’t trying to get back at me by going upstairs with Rafe?”

You rolled your eyes, lips parting as you pressed your tongue to your teeth.

“In a way…yeah…” you rolled your neck to face him again with a shrug. “…but I didn’t think you’d find out.”

JJ froze at that, looking stumped for the second time tonight.

“I thought you’d gone off with that girl!” you screamed, throwing your hand out. “You weren’t supposed to…”

You trailed off, avoiding his gaze once you registered the realization in his eyes. The room was deathly silent, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You were struggling to hold back tears, throat feeling incredibly thick, and the more JJ just stared at you in silence, the more uncomfortable you felt. When he finally did speak, you almost didn’t hear him.

“You were going to have sex with him?”

You didn’t respond, feeling that your silence was answer enough.

“You were actually going to–look at me,” he sneered, taking your chin into his hand again. “You didn’t intend for me to find out? You were actually going to fuck Rafe Cameron.”

JJ’s blond hair was going every which way, courtesy of his hands running through it the entire ride home. You didn’t have a response he’d like, and he seemed to know that, just staring at you with wide eyes. Jerking your face out of his hold, you angrily wiped your cheeks.

“You treat me like something you keep in your back pocket, and you’re shocked I went upstairs with a guy I knew would make me feel wanted?” you murmured. “…and of course, it doesn’t hurt that you two hate each other.”

You watched JJ look away, swiping his tongue between his lips.

“You make me feel like there’s something wrong with me, JJ.”

He looked shocked at that admission, and you shrugged.

“I’m good enough to fool around with a little, but not good enough for there to actually be something between us…” you continued when he started to open his mouth. “…and you say its because you don’t want to be that guy you’d vowed to protect me from, but you’re already that guy.”

You shook your head at him.

“You know how I feel about you, and you tell me that we can’t be anything then okay, fine, I could accept that…but then you keep coming back to me! You ignore any kind of boundary I try to have to make things go back to how they were. You just,” you scoffed. “You do what you want, and I can’t do anything.”

“…because none of the guys on this island are good enough for you!”

His hands were on your shoulders, and his fingers kneaded into your skin.

“Including me,” he quietly added. “…I’m not good enough for you.”

He shakily exhaled, running his eyes over your face.

“…but the thought of you with anybody but me makes me want to be sick,” he slowly confessed. “No, its not right, and its not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You watched him stand again, running his hand down his face.

“…but that doesn’t make it okay for you to go upstairs with Rafe,” he told you, sounding angry all over again. “He is way worse than I could ever be.”

“Well, he’s not scared of you, so at least I know he’ll fuck me.”

JJ stared you down at that, and you stared back, entirely serious.

“When you’re trying to get over me, you get under someone else,” you reminded him. “I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

JJ’s entire face clouded over, and you could see then that he could see the determination in your eyes. Whether it be tomorrow or next week, you were going to sleep with Rafe. You were tired of being hung up on someone you couldn’t have—someone who wouldn’t let you have him—and you didn’t understand why you had to endure lonely nights just because JJ said so. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t your anything, and as he stared at you, you could see the realization on his features.

If he didn’t want you sleeping with anyone else, then he’d better come up with a damn good reason.

“Fine,” he relented, nodding to himself. “Fine.”

He approached you, grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours. While you enjoyed the kiss, you felt that JJ was getting what he actually wanted too easily, and you turned your face away while pressing a hand to his chest.

“No,” you mockingly spat. “I didn’t have to practically beg Rafe-.”

Your words were cut off by JJ’s tight grip on your arm, and you nervously looked at him, swallowing.

“Do not say his name,” the blond forced out. “Do not bring up Rafe to me, right now.”

His grip made you wince, and you thought to yourself how far he would’ve gone with Rafe if Kie hadn’t stopped him. JJ was still pissed about the ordeal, no doubt recalling what he’d walked in on, but at the moment he was more focused on finally giving in to what he’d denied himself for years. Kissing you again, he forced you to swallow any more mentions of the Kook.

He was desperate to get you naked—and you felt the same—and he couldn’t stop kissing you the entire time. His skin felt so warm against your own, chest pressed against yours and hands following a familiar path. His fingers had only prepared you so much, and that was how you found yourself pressing your nails into his skin as he stretched you out.

Somewhere along the way, you remembered that this wasn’t your bedroom nor your house and that you two wouldn’t be alone all night. You lifted your hips to meet JJ’s thrusts, moaning into his mouth and pushing against his hand that had yours pinned. He pulled his lips away to kiss along your chest, curving his hips against yours and thrusting into you with a slow and steady pace.

With the X in your system, it felt like an out of body experience.

You threw your head back, chest arching up against his, shuddering at the feel of your skin grazing his own. When he let your hand go, he slid both of them underneath you, palms resting on your ass as he lifted you onto his cock with every thrust of his hips. You reached down to rest your hands on his wrists, toes curling. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, now, and you loved the feeling of his tongue on your skin.

“It’s just you,” he murmured into your shoulder. “From now on, it’s just you.”

Reaching up, you twisted your fingers into his strands of hair, gripping them and playing with them. You felt like you were floating, your entire body buzzing and warm, and you could only dazedly nod at his words. When he lifted his head to look down at you, there was a peculiar look on his face, and then he chuckled.

“I forgot,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours and talking into the kiss. “I know this feels fucking amazing for you.”

Hooking your arms under his shoulder, you held onto him as he plunged his cock into you. You couldn’t swallow anything down, gasping and mewling beneath him, begging him for things you couldn’t even comprehend. His hair touched your forehead when he pressed his own to yours, nose brushing yours as he stared into your eyes.

The bed shook beneath you, and deep within your mind, something in you felt bad that this wasn’t your bed. That thought reminded you that your solitude wasn’t permanent, and you heard yourself let out a small whine.

“They’re…they’re probably on the way…”

Your words died in the air, lashes fluttering and eyes rolling when JJ snapped his hips against yours. JJ shushed you, promising to make you come before they returned. Moments later, he kept that promise, and you held him to you as you trembled beneath him, clenching around his cock and milking him as he came moments after you did.

Everywhere he touched, heat bloomed, and you didn’t want him to let go.

“Sleep with me,” you murmured, frowning when he pulled out of you.

You could make out him looking for your shirt, quickly putting it on you, and JJ kissed your cheek once you were covered, lips lingering.

“I will when they’re asleep,” he told you.

As if he’d conjured them up, you heard the unmistakable sound of the Twinkie pulling into the yard.

“I’ll stay the night like I always do,” he promised you, moving to get dressed.

When he was decent, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his arms. Your head rested against his stomach, the walls pulsating and the floor moving a tad. JJ was saying something to you, but you couldn’t quite comprehend it, your mind already focused on something else.

“I won’t sleep with Rafe, JJ,” you heard yourself murmur, and he was silent, but you did feel his hand resting on the side of your neck, fingers grazing your jaw.

There was conviction in his tone as he brushed his thumb over your lips.

“You weren’t doing that, anyway.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #obx #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #obx imagine #obx fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic

578 notes · View notes

moondirti · 2 days

Text

big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.

if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.

and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.

so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.

it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?

granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.

jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.

until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.

because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.

by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.

it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.

and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.

johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?

he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.

"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."

he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.

besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.

but–

"are you a doctor?"

"n-no."

"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."

he just can't help himself.

over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.

his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.

on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.

then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.

"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?

"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."

"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."

and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:

you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"

ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.

"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.

"hm."

"is this how it usually-"

"sometimes."

"oh."

"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.

a few moments later, you speak up again.

"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."

he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.

"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."

you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."

and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.

if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.

#i ran out of steam towards the end could you tell #ghostsoap #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #johnny 'soap' mactavish x reader #ghostsoap x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x johnny 'soap' mactavish #call of duty

917 notes · View notes

prettyfastcars · 2 days

Text

the way you bend, the way you break | Mob!Lando

Summary: You’re one of the housekeepers who work at one of his many holiday homes. Given the nature of his ‘job’, Lando is never in one place for too long. Which means that he comes back to this house quite a few times during the year. Things were normal in the beginning, but in time Lando began taking an interest in you. It was benign at the start – flirty comments here and there, stolen glances, and whatnot. You ignored most of it, thinking it was nothing. But then you both crossed a line, and consequently, you’ve had to hide a secret from him for months while he was gone. But now he’s back, abruptly. He would do anything, you realised, to get what he wants. And this time he wants what’s always been his.

Themes: dark!lando, smut, possessive!lando, housekeeper!reader, explicit language, breeding kink, pregnant!reader

He wasn’t supposed to be back just yet.

Your heart raced as you watched his car come to a stop right outside the house. He shouldn’t be here. He left just about two months ago. He shouldn’t be back for another two months or so.

On the gravel, he carelessly brought his car to a stop as if he couldn’t be bothered to even properly park his ridiculously expensive classic car. You were sure this one would have some name you couldn’t pronounce as well. Just like the rest of them which filled the garage. Unused, but well taken care of.

You were currently peeking from a window in the east wing. You could get a clear view of him from here, without him ever noticing that you were watching. So you remained standing there, at the window, heart pounding and well aware that the rest of the staff were running around doing last minute adjustments to the mostly spotlessly clean house now that the master of the house was back, unannounced.

Usually he called beforehand, he never just showed up so suddenly in the three years that you’d been working for him. This would be the first time.

You watched him as he got out of his car, no luggage or anything – he had everything he could ever need here, and you knew because you were part of the staff who were responsible for the East wing where his personal bedroom and office were located. A shiver went through you as you thought of the bedroom.

You watched how Lando made his way to the front steps of his house. You already knew there would be a small group of staff there to welcome him back for the third time this year. Last time he was here for a few weeks was just over two months ago. And now he was back again.

Why? Your heart raced. Lando always carried an air of danger around him. It was one of the things which lured you in.

No one ever questioned or cared what he did for work. You knew, the rumours and his reputation preceded him. But he paid you all too well for any of you to question him. Or even be bothered by the immorality of what he did, or how bad of a man he was.

Besides, being from a small nearby town, and it being all that you’d ever known, this job was like stepping into a foreign world. A world of grandeur, and garages more spacious than your family home. A world of gatsby-esque parties, and expensive cars. A world of luxurious homes, and hallways with multiple chandeliers which made you feel like a princess anytime you walked down them. Manicured lawns with Greek gods’ statues and a whole lake in the backyard. This house was tucked away in a quiet corner of the world, situated at the foot of green, foggy hills.

He was from another world. He felt like a novelty. Like an opulent vice. And he was so easy to get addicted to. The first time he touched you–

“What are you doing just standing there?” One of the older housekeepers chided from behind. “Go make sure the master bedroom has enough fresh towels! And make sure the pillowcases are…” She listed all the things you needed to get done in just a few minutes before he made his way up here.

You nodded, moved away from the window and quickly secured your white apron around your waist. You took a quick glance at your appearance in the nearby mirror. White-collared black dress and now the apron. You sighed, before rushing into his bedroom immediately to get started.

You swapped the old towels for freshly washed ones. You made sure the bed was nice and perfect. You were in the middle of making the pillows look soft and plump when one of your colleagues walked into the room.

You had your back to them, but you said, “I’m almost done here!”

Then you heard a familiar chuckle, “Well, good. ‘Cause I missed my favourite girl.”

Your eyes widened as you turned around. And there he was. Standing in front of the grand, and now shut, bedroom door. Seeing him after so many weeks always made your heart skip a beat or two. But it was different this time. Normally you’d rush into his arms and let him hold you but…

You just stood there this time, by his large canopy bed. You took him in for a moment. White shirt with buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbow, dark trousers, expensive shoes. A watch that probably cost half as much as this mansion on his wrist. His messy, curly hair and those pretty eyes. He looked like a dream. A dangerous dream.

“Hi,” You murmured as he walked towards you. You stood there, frozen, as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his warm embrace. You couldn’t help but sigh at the familiarity of his hug, his touch, his scent. Over the past couple of years, you’d spent countless nights wrapped in these arms. In this very room, on this bed. Countless hours you’d spent moaning his name all night, sighing and whining in pleasure, sometimes till the sun came up.

The memories came flooding in, triggered by one single hug.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby.” He whispered against your forehead, before pulling away to look at you. He smiled before leaning in for a proper kiss.

And for the first time in the couple of years that you’d known him, you gently dodged his kiss. You felt him tense up the moment you turned your face just slightly so he missed your lips and kissed the corner of your mouth instead. His arms around you tightened just a little.

“Hey,” He said, his mouth brushing against your skin. “I haven’t seen you in so long. Give me a kiss.” He tried again, and you moved again, avoiding his kiss for a second time. Lando frowned. “What’s wrong?” He refused to let go of you, staring deep into your eyes with his irresistible ones.

“No– nothing.” You sighed, carefully untangling yourself from his embrace. “It’s just, it’s early and someone might just come in to, you know, check if you have everything you need and… we might get caught.” You avoided his eyes as you put some distance between you and him.

“But–,”

You cut him off quickly. “I should go. We didn’t know you were coming, and the kitchen staff might need help. I also have to, uh…” You tried to find something, anything, “To bring you more towels.” You started to leave but he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into his chest, not letting go this time.

“There’s plenty of people to help in the kitchen. Plus there’s enough towels here for ten people.” He stared at you like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t. “Stay with me for a bit. I miss you.”

You tried to find some excuse again. “I really shouldn’t be here. They’ll notice.”

He nodded once, looking like it pained him to not argue any further. “Fine. I will see you tonight then.”

Tonight. He said it so easily. Why wouldn’t he? It had become a routine, hadn’t it? While the rest of the staff members made their way home in the evenings, you’d always stay back with him whenever he was here. Spend the night in his bed, in his arms. And you’d get up extra early each morning, right before your colleagues came in. You’d lie to everyone, pretending as if you were the last one to leave and the first one to come here each day.

But not tonight.

—

It was late and the sun had already set but it wasn’t too dark yet as you made your way home. You didn’t stay tonight. You couldn’t.

And when you were halfway home, your phone rang. You knew without looking that it must be him. So you slowed down enough to let your colleagues who were walking behind you to pass you, so you could answer the call.

“Hey.”

“Where the hell are you?” He asked, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. You could already picture him. He must be in his room, drink in his hand as he lounged on some sofa. He must have that bored look on his pretty face.

But the accusation in his tone… You were prepared for it this time. “I really have to go home tonight. My mom isn’t feeling too well. And it gets hard for dad to manage the farm alone so I have to help out.”

“Oh.” He said after a long pause. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You tried your hardest to sound as cheery as possible even when you weren’t. “Bye.”

“Baby, wait I–,”

You hung up on him. Shit.

—

You didn’t see him the next day. In fact, you did everything you could to avoid him as much as possible.

But given you worked in the wing where his bedroom was, you knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever. And by midday, he managed to corner you just as you were leaving the linen closet at the end of the least used hallway in the gigantic house.

You barely processed it as it happened. But one moment you were done with replacing the clean linen inside the closet and turned to leave, and the next Lando was there. Shoving you back inside the closet and shutting the door behind him as he caged you in between himself and the shelves.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He asked, clearly not happy.

You looked behind him, at the closet door. There were no locks of course. So if anyone were to just open it, you were finished.

“Stop looking at that fucking door.” He snarled. “Look at me.”

You did. “I– we shouldn’t do this. If someone–,”

He cut you off. “Let me worry about that. What you need to do is use that pretty little mouth and tell me why the fuck have you been avoiding me? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” He leaned closer, causing you to press your back further into the shelves. “First you hung up on me last night and now you’ve managed to avoid me all morning.” He frowned, lips brushing against your cheek as he spoke. “Start talking, my darling.” He sounded menacing. “Or so help me god, I’ll cause such a scene and–,”

“No!” You let out a frustrated breath. “I’m not avoiding you.” You lied. “I was just truly busy this morning. And last night I really had to go home because my dad wasn’t doing too well and–,”

“Dad?” He questioned, stopping your rambling. “I thought you said your mom wasn’t well.” His body tensed up again. His hands tightening their grip where they held on to your waist.

Caught. Still you lied some more, “Well, they’re both a little under the weather.”

He was quiet. And your heart pounded. You waited for him to buy whatever bullshit you’d been trying to get him to believe.

“I see.” He said, a little too calm. Then he sighed and his lips found your neck, his mouth moving ravenously across your skin. “I miss you.” He sounded so sincere you almost gave in. “Fucking missed having you in my arms, my bed. I miss being inside you,” He murmured against your skin. “Don’t you miss me, baby?”

You sighed. Just one more minute, you promised yourself. One more minute of this and then you’d push him away. “I do.” You whispered.

“Then why are you treating me like I’m some cheap whore you no longer want around, huh?”

You almost chuckled. “I’m not, it’s–,”

“Shut up.” He sounded like he was pouting too. “I want you.”

You hadn’t realised that his hands had found themselves under your dress. His fingers, about to reach into your underwear and touch you. Fuck… it was so easy to just want to give in and let him make you feel good. Because he always did. He always left you satisfied. But you couldn’t.

“Lando.” You warned, pushing his hands away. “We can’t.”

It happened in an instant. He switched from being nice and calm, to his hand being wrapped around your throat. And for the first time, your heart skipped a beat out of fear. Fear of this unknown, unseen side of him.

His fingers tightened around your neck, his mouth brushing against your lips as he spoke. “Is it someone else?” He accused. “Did you find someone else while I was gone? Hmm? Some useless fucking boy in that little town of yours?”

“No.” You defended yourself quickly.

He pressed his body even more into yours. As if reminding you how it feels to be under him, with his body weight pressing onto you. “Then why the fuck are you denying me what’s mine?” His other hand meanwhile, found its way into your underwear again. “This is mine.” He murmured, cupping you in between your legs. “You understand? This cunt is mine. And I will fuck it whenever I want.”

You couldn’t resist anymore, so you stopped fighting him the moment you felt his fingers sliding inside you. You tried your hardest not to moan too loudly as he finger-fucked you expertly. Like he knew your body too well. He did.

His mouth left kisses all over your face, your neck, up till your ear where he whispered, “Tell me you’re mine.”

You gasped when you felt his thumb rubbing your clit while his fingers slid in and out of you. Your wetness allowing his hand to just glide all over your folds, making you shiver in pleasure. “I’m yours.” You admitted, spreading your thighs even more to let him touch you.

The air around you felt hotter. And you lost all coherent thoughts when he brought you right to the edge and… then pulled away.

You were gasping for air as you watched him in disbelief, ready to beg for him to touch you again because you were close… so damn close. And he’d always been such a generous, giving lover. So what–

“You’ve been a bad girl lately. You don’t get to come that easily.”

And without anything else said, he turned and left the linen closet. Leaving you gasping for air, breathing heavily, with your body tingling and throbbing with need.

—

You didn’t see him for the next couple of days. You didn’t dare to ask your colleagues if they knew where he went either. All you knew was that he came home late at night – the dishes in the sink, clothes scattered around his bedroom, and empty whiskey glasses in his office meant that he did come home at some point. But then he disappeared in the mornings and didn’t show up all day.

That happened continuously for three days before you saw him again.

One evening, you noticed everyone around the house just wasn't there. It was still early to go home but the house was too quiet so you went to investigate. And you found no one. None of your colleagues. None of the kitchen staff. The security guards were there, as always, stationed just outside the house so you asked them.

“Where’s everyone?”

One of them replied, “Boss asked everyone to go home early for the weekend.”

Oh? “No one told me.” You murmured under your breath. You didn’t think the guards heard but apparently they did.

Another one of them responded, “Not you, miss. He asked us to make sure you were here when he got back.”

Oh. “Back from where?” You asked.

The two guards shrugged in a ‘We’re not exactly supposed to tell you’ way.

So you went back into the house, worried. You paced around in the foyer before you decided to move upstairs, to the East wing. Then you paced some more, arranging and rearranging unnecessary stuff in the linen closet. It bothered you, the closet. It had been days since you’d been in here with him.

You were in the middle of reliving the memories of the other day when you heard footsteps out in the hallway. That must be him, you figured. So you stepped out of the closet and saw him at the other end of the hallway.

The chandeliers lit up the otherwise dark hallway. Dark frames, gilded mirrors, and Lando at the end of it, looking like the hero of some gothic novel. He was too far for you to read the expression on his face. But as he slowly made his way closer to where you stood, your own smile disappeared when you noted the grave look on his face. Like anger, and betrayal all in one.

“Lando?”

He kept walking closer, slower. “How long did you think you were gonna keep it from me?”

You froze. “What?” Your voice sounded shaky and vulnerable. You could already feel the tears gathering at your waterline. There’s no way he knows, right? How would he know? You hadn’t told anyone.

He chuckled, not an ounce of humour on his face. “Don’t act stupid.”

“I can explain.”

He shook his head, coming to a stop right in front of you. He looked like it was taking him a lot to keep whatever it was he felt contained. “Oh, you will.” His voice was… colder than ever. Bitter. Angry.

So you did the only thing your instinct told you to do in the face of a man of his magnitude. You ran.

Or at least tried to.

Lando scoffed before chasing you. Catching you was so easy. In less than a few seconds he had you in his arms and was dragging you all the way to his bedroom.

“Stop this shit!”

“I’m sorry.” You pleaded. “I wanted to tell you, I really did.” You had tears streaming down your face as you let him lead you to his room. “But I didn’t know how. I was scared of how you’d–,”

He cut you off by pushing you onto his bed. “Scared that I would what?” He barked in your face as he pinned you down on his bed. One hand grabbed your wrists in place while the other slowly slid down your squirming body. “I should have you over my knee and spank you until you cry.” He stared deep into your eyes as his hand came to a stop over your lower abdomen. The warmth of his hand reaching your skin even through the apron and the dress. “But I don’t wanna hurt you,” He paused, applying the tiniest bit of pressure against your belly, “Or my baby.” He whispered, looking down to where his hand touched you.

Him saying it made it all too real. And you couldn’t stop the hot tears from running down your face. Him saying it out loud made it serious. Inescapable.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked again, with the same accusatory tone. “It’s mine.” He said, reminding you. “You’re mine. So why didn’t you tell me?”

You didn’t have an answer for him. Just more tears.

“I had to ask around these past couple of days, you know? I asked everyone here and your friends in town and all they told me was that you’d been constantly sick for about two months now.” He scoffed. “Then I found the doctor you went to, had to have her at gunpoint just so she’d show me your file. Apparently you’re about twelve weeks along. And you’ve known for well over a month.” He brought his face closer to yours, grip tightening on your wrists.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, sniffling.

“Sorry?” He mocked, scoffing. “This is where it happened, didn’t it? Last time I was here we didn’t use any protection so that must be it, hmm?” He leaned in and whispered, “I came inside you over and over that last night before I left, remember? It was raining hard, there was a thunderstorm,” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “And you were so scared I had to fuck you to sleep, remember that, baby?”

His knee had found itself in between your legs, and you’d been mindlessly grinding against it. He looked down and caught your hips moving against his leg and he chuckled. Then his smirk disappeared.

“Were you gonna keep lying to me?” He asked. “I spoke with your friends and one of them reluctantly told me that you’d been talking about wanting to get away from here. To go somewhere new, out of this little town.” He tightened his grip on your wrists so much that you yelped in pain. “Did you mean to leave me in the dark? Were you just gonna take my kid and leave? Without telling me?” He taunted. “Did you think you could leave me?” He sounded menacing. “Did you think I would hesitate for even a moment before I leave a fucking bloodbath in my wake as I hunt you down, baby?”

You sighed in frustration even though his voice made you shiver in nervousness. “I did mean to tell you. I didn’t know you would just show up out of nowhere,” You sniffled. “I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t know how to handle all of this.”

“Prepared?” He sneered. “You’re my woman, and that growing inside you is my kid. What’s there to be prepared for before telling me? I had the right to know!”

You couldn’t help but sneer right back at him, raising your voice a little, “I wasn’t even sure if you’d want this with me!”

He let his body weight drop down onto you. His hand moving from your abdomen to your neck. “I’m so fucking angry at you right now. But I fucking love you and it’s pissing me off that you’d even think like that.”

“Please,” You begged. “I was so scared. And if people found out that you and I–,”

He cut you off with a bruising kiss. His hands let go of you for a moment only to get rid of all that you were wearing as quickly as he could before holding you close to him again. His slight stubble felt rough against your mouth but you didn’t mind. You’d missed this. Missed him.

He kissed his way down, toying with your breasts, occasionally rolling and pinching your nipples, making you arch your back off the bed as you cried out louder than he expected.

That made him look up and ask, “Are they extra sensitive?”

You nodded. He smirked, and continued anyway. Making you whine and cry out as he kept kissing down your body until he knelt in between your legs. He gently kissed your inner thighs, “You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled and brushed his soft lips along your inner thighs, “And all mine.” He murmured, looking up at you. “I love you.” He said. “I want this, all of this with you. You hear me?”

Another tear fell down your face. You nodded.

Then he looked down. “And I love you as well.” He murmured against your belly, pressing his face against it, leaving soft kisses all over. “When will you start showing?” He asked.

“In a few more weeks maybe.” You answered.

You could feel him smiling against your skin at the sound of that as he placed both his hands on either one of your knees and separated your legs.

You could feel his warm breath hit your wet skin as he brought his mouth closer to you. You moaned when you felt his warm tongue lick from your entrance up to your throbbing clit. You felt your heart flutter as a familiar warmth washed over you. You’d missed him so much it was crazy.

Your hand immediately flew to his curly hair, and you grabbed a fistful of it, tugging on it gently as his mouth teased you. His tongue slowly circled around your clit, earning another moan out of you.

“You’re gonna be such a good mom to my kids, you know that?” He said, before going back to eating you out eagerly.

Kids? Plural?

“Kids?” You asked.

Lando looked up at you again at the same time as you looked down, and you saw the pure hunger in his eyes. “Come on, baby. Did you think we weren’t gonna have more?” You squirmed at the thought of that. He noticed, and smirked. “I’ll come inside you again and again until we have a little army of our own running around.”

Your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled as you felt his tongue fucking you gently. He secured his arms around your thighs and pushed you further into his mouth, making you cry out of pleasure. And with a couple more strokes of his tongue, he had you coming undone, all over his tongue.

You felt him kissing his way up your body, leaving warm, wet kisses all over your skin, until he reached your mouth again. His kiss was gentle. When he pulled away, you finally opened your eyes to stare into his pretty ones. You secretly imagined a mini version of you and him, with his eyes. It made you smile without even realising it.

“You’re mine.” He whispered, his stare was feral, he was hungry.

You reached up and touched his rough cheek gently. “I’m all yours.” You reminded him.

He leaned in for a kiss again, rougher this time. He kissed your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he undid and lowered his pants, and carefully slid into you. Your warmth wrapped around him, gripping him and reminding him that you were his. And you always would be.

You grimace in discomfort at first because it had been way too many weeks since the last time.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked, kissing your cheek. His breaths were shaky as he held back from fucking as hard and fast as he wanted. “You need me to slow down?”

“No,” You whispered. “I’m okay.” You turned to look at him.

He searched your face for any more signs of hurt. When he found none, he moved. He laced your fingers together and pinned both your entwined hands above your head as he sped up into you. You threw your head back as he started rocking in and out of you, his cock moving perfectly against your sensitive walls. He leaned down and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you with nice and deep strokes.

His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting and intimate. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name under your breath.

“You’re all mine. You hear that, mama?” He whispered against your lips, and leaned in to kiss you deeply again while he deliberately stroked his cock against your walls as slowly as he could just to make you whine and whimper even more. “Look at me,” he growled quietly under his breath.

You immediately opened your eyes and stared into his. His stare was intense, but loving as always. His lips were full and swollen as he looked down at you. You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time he moved against you, and his lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him.

“Mine.” He whispered, his voice deeper now.

You nodded quickly. “Yours.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Then come for me, baby…” He whispered. “Come and let me fill you up again.”

His voice was enough to take you right to the edge. You felt the pressure and the familiar pressure in between your legs, making you squirm, moan, and gasp for air as your walls clenched violently around him. “Lando…” You moaned.

“I know, baby. I know.” He murmured against your forehead.

His hands reached down and grabbed your sides gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you a little more, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other. He held you as close to him as he could, pushing his face into you and nuzzling your neck as he fucked you relentlessly.

“You’re so beautiful, and you’re all fucking mine.” He whispered against your skin. “Can’t wait for you to start showing…” He sounded just as out of breath as you were. “Everyone’s gonna know just how much you’re mine.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore, and with a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone with a loud moan, grinding against him hungrily while he moaned against your lips as he came right after you, kissing you as best he could while he emptied inside you.

“Fuck…” You gasped for air.

As was he.

Lando was careful not to crush you under him like he normally would, and instead moved to lay beside you for a moment, catching his breath for a few seconds before he pulled you into him again, spooning you from behind.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He said, kissing your shoulder. “I’m here. I’m right here.” He tightened his grip around you. “I love you.”

You wanted to whisper back that you loved him too, but the day’s tiredness, the orgasm, and your natural instinct to fall deeply asleep right after sex, all of it caught up to you at once. And before you knew it, you passed out in his arms with a faint smile on your face.

—

Lando remained awake. He took his time caressing you, and cleaning you before dressing you up in warm clothes. Downstairs, he could hear his people moving around, packing everything just like he’d ordered them too.

After all, you two would be leaving tonight itself.

Once he was done with dressing himself, he walked to where you were in deep, deep sleep on his bed. He leaned down and kissed your nose. “I’m doing this for us, baby.” He whispered. “For us and our future family.”

There was a reason why he’d asked all the staff members to go home early tonight. It was because he didn’t want there to be an audience when he moved out of this house, with you. You were a deep sleeper so this was perfect, he thought.

No one would know where you two went, you’d disappear without a trace.

He packed a bag for you as quickly as he could. He could always buy you whatever you needed but he figured you’d want and need some things for the plane ride to come. Toiletries and blankets, mostly.

“You won’t ever have to worry about a single thing, my love.” He whispered, looking over at you sleeping soundly while he packed in a hurry, checking his guns just in case, and throwing that into the bag as well. “I’m sorry I lied earlier.” He confessed.

He had. The doctor he interrogated wasn’t just held at gunpoint. Lando had made sure she would never speak again. Your file would be nowhere to be found. And without the doctor, no rumours or gossip would be spreading around the little town about this situation.

While he was with you tonight, his men had done just as he’d asked them to. They had taken all your stuff from your little apartment and moved it. It would be as if no one ever lived there.

Earlier this evening, he’d received confirmation from his men that while your friends and family members had been too scared to even question what was happening, they'd agreed to not reach out to authorities regarding your sudden disappearance. Of course, in exchange they would receive sporadic updates about where you are and how you’re doing.

If they ever acted out of line, well, he would simply take care of it and tell you that your friends and family decided to cut all ties. Because if there was anything he was good at, it was making sure people did exactly what he wanted them to do.

All in all, Lando had made sure you two would never come back to this place again.

He thanked whichever god was listening once he managed to get you in the backseat of his car without disturbing your sleep. He got in right after you, while his men filled the other cars with luggage and some things of yours from your apartment.

Once the cars were all out the gates and all on the way to his private plane, he leaned closer to you, nuzzling your cheek as you laid your head against his shoulder, sleeping soundly and unaware of all that was going on, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, baby?” He murmured. “We’ll be happy together, you just wait.” He kissed your face and pulled you into a hug, fixing your blanket around you and making sure you were properly warm.

His hand instinctively found its way to your belly, softly caressing it even though the bump wasn’t there yet. He kept an eye on the cars right in front and right behind, all filled with armed guards. He would need to be extra careful now. He was going to be a father, have a family of his own. He would need to protect you and the future kids with his life.

Despite the stress and worries, he found himself smiling at the thought of the future. A future with you, and your kids. You were both still fairly young to be parents but he felt ready for it.

He knew you’d probably throw a fit when you’d wake up and find out that he was literally changing your whole life overnight. He smirked thinking about how fiery you could be sometimes. But it would be too late then. You would be miles away from here, up in the air with nowhere to go. He’d deal with your tantrum on his plane, and remind you that you were his. His to take care of.

Only his.

#mob!lando #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #lando norris imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris x you #mob!au

864 notes · View notes

leah-lover · 2 days

Text

Entangled desires. Leah Williamson x Alexia putellas x reader.

Part 1

“ Fuck me!” You semi yelled at your TV.

“Only if you beg me for it.” Said your girlfriend with a smirk on her face. You were both laying on the couch. She was laying on your lap reading a book, while you were watching the Arsenal vs Chelsea game. Chelsea have just broke through the backline and scored a goal. In their defense the goal was pretty incredible, but you hated that your team got scored against.

“ I would love for you to fuck me amor but not now, I am too busy “ you joked. “You have been stressed for about 50 minutes now. I think you need a release.” She said sarcastically, The book is now laying on her chest. “ Mi Reina, this game is so important for my sanity right now.” you respond. She didn't talk after that, she just turned on her side, her head still on your lap. She put the book aside and focused on the game.

The rest of the match was pretty exciting. There were some missed shots from both teams, a goal from Arsenal, some decent shot blocks from the Arsenal defense, and just overall a lot of tension. Alexia stood up from your lap by the time the final whistle blew. She was alert and satisfied. You were more than happy with Chelsea's defeat since you were a die hard Arsenal supporter. As a result, in celebration, you kissed your girlfriend. The kiss was soft and filled with passion. You then pushed Alexia on her back, straddled her lap and kissed her hard. You didn't want any space between you two. You were hungry for her, needy for her, all you wanted was her touch. The adrenaline from the game took over your body. Suddenly, it all went away and was replaced by tiredness. “ It's okay baby it happens.” She confronted you because you pulled out of the kiss and sighed loudly.

“ I am so sorry.” You apologized. “ Let's go cook dinner instead. Then we can finish later.” She added, a small smile on her face.

At the dinner table you sat opposite each other. You were both comfortable in the silence.

“ That arsenal defense was really good today.” She said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, most of them are lionesses, so they are pretty good.” You answer.

“ Leah Williamson, the center back, is the captain of England right?”

“ She is the captain, she also captained the team today. She is pretty good.”

“ She was excellent today, made some pretty good deflections.”

“ And?”

“ What do you mean?.”

“ Mi Reina, tell me what you think.”

“ Well she is kind of attractive I guess. If you tell this to someone you won't like your punishment.”

“ Baby relax,I won't. I promise. Now let's go finish what we started after the game.”

“ What do you think about her?”

“ Leah ? Well I agree with you she is hot.”

—----------------

Tonight was one of the best nights of the year. The fifa best awards. This night was special because you were being awarded the best female player in the world which made you very proud of yourself. You were also proud of your girlfriend who made it into the best starting 11 in the world along with you and a few legends of the game.

You and Alexia got ready in the same room. You decided on an emerald green corseted dress that highlighted your chest and your brown hair. Alexia decided on an all black 3 piece suit paired with a red lip and her hair down.

The day leading to the ceremony had nothing out of the ordinary. You did your media duties, got ready, and left for the red carpet.

You and Alexia looked like a power couple, all the cameras were on you two, two of the most awarded and talented footballers. The ceremony was no different either. Kelley Smith presented you with your award and you thanked the most important people in your life in your speech. You talked to a few people but that was it. All the fun started at the after party.

While you were at the bar getting drinks your girlfriend was far from you talking to some people.

“Can I get two vodka sodas please?” You asked the bartender.

“Can you please make that tree?” Said a British voice from behind you. You turned around to find that the voice was Leah's.

“ Vodka soda is the athlete's best choice of drink right? ?“ she asked.

“ I guess so.” you respond.

“ I am Leah Williamson.” She added.

“ I know who you are. You are pretty recognizable.”

“ Not as much as the woman of the hour. Congrats on your award by the way. Spanish football is lucky to have you.”

You blushed at her words, that's when your drinks were ready. You wanted to talk to her more.

“ Why don't you join me and Alexia at our table?.” You asked hoping to get a yes

“Only for a little while I have my own people to tend to.” She responded.

You proceeded to guid Leah to your table. On your way there you passed alexia who said goodbye to the people she was with to join you too.

“ Ale this is Leah williamson. Leah, this is my lovely girlfriend Alexia.” you introduced the girls.

“ It's very nice to meet you alexia. We should have met a long time ago.” said Leah

“ I am glad we met too. How are you finding the night.” said Alexia. You knew your girlfriend well to know when she is nervous and right now she was clearly nervous, other people wouldn't spot it very well.

“ it's pretty boring actually. This is the most exciting thing that happened tonight.” responded Leah.

Your relationship with Alexia was common knowledge. However, Leah was flirting with the both of you for the better part of the hour and a half that Leah stayed with you. Throughout this time you talked about everything from football to your childhood. Several compliments and flirtatious attempts were made by all 3 of you. Leah’s phone was ringing for most of the time but she didn't answer. She then got a text saying that her teammates left and that she should go to the hotel because the party venue was almost empty. You didn't realise the time that passed, you were too immersed in the fun all of you were having. You were sitting on a couch, Alexia’s hand on your thighs occasionally caressing them, and Leah sat opposite you on a chair.

“ I can't believe they left without me.” she complained.

“ Well they did call you several times but you blew them off.” you responded.

“ but still how am i supposed to talk to them and miss out a second with you two.”

“ You can come with us. We are staying at the same hotel right?” suggested Alexia.

“ yeah but I don't want to intrude.”

“ nonsense, consider it an extension of this lovely night.” you added.

You then got out of the venue. You held Alexia’s hand while Leah walked to your other side.

The car ride was quiet. “ I would kill for a burger right now.” you whispered in your girlfriend’s ear because you were nuzzled in her neck. She then ushered for the driver to change direction to the nearest fast food chain.

“ one quick stop before we release you.” you apologized to leah running you hand on her thigh quickly.

“ No, not at all. I really want this to go on forever.” she responded.

The car stopped, you got your order, Leah and Alexia got a meal too after you provoked your puppy eyes.

You were now blissful on the hotel floor, and eating your burger with Leah Williamson and Alexia putellas. You were focused more on leah than on your burger.

“ shit i dont have my key card. I left it with Keira. God i am such a fucking idiot. ” she said after she finished.

“ Don't ever say that about yourself.” said Alexia who was quieter than usual.

“ what she means is it's fine you can stay here. it's too late to wake her up.” you corrected.

“ No, I can't do that .” she said frantically.

“ Yes you can and you will. It's too late to do anything. Plus we can hang out more. And we can put it to a vote and we both want you here.” said alexia before taking the last bite of her burger.

“ Alexia I can't. There is something. I just can't.” she said before heading towards the door.

Alexia got up and stopped her by her wrist. “ Look, it's alright, stay. Please. “ she said softly.

“ alexia almost never says please.” you added.

“ There is this unresolved tension in me. I can't hide it anymore.” she added, now looking at the floor.

Alexia lifted her head up by her chin, and at that moment we were all nervous. We all shared a look with each other, then looked at the floor, then at each other again. The silence was deafening. We all were thinking the same thing. It was just the matter of who starts.

463 notes · View notes

evie-sturns · 2 days

Text

wrong room - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you recently met nick through social media, he invites you over to his house for the night. while walking to the bathroom you accidentally enter the wrong room, walking in on matt masturbating.

contains: smut, caught masturbating, soft!dom matt, swearing, light choking.

a/n: this fic will contain different pov's between yours and matts, but it will have a little text so you will known when.

—----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐----------———

i met nick just the other month at taras party, we instantly clicked resulting in him inviting me round today. i've been hanging out with him around his house his whole day with one of his triplet brothers, chris, i think.

(y/n's pov)

i lean against nicks countertop as he has a poor attempt to cook, "nick- nick no!" i laugh, grabbing the bag of flour as he repeatedly hits it with his elbow while mixing the dough.

"oh god, my fault" he says with a a grin as chris walks over, he spanks the cookie dough which is inside the mixing bowl, earning a slap from nick.

"okay- i'll give it a go." i decide to finally step up, nick steps out of the way as i look into the bowl, its somehow completely unmixed even after hes mixed for a solid 5 minutes.

i look over my shoulder, my eyebrows knit in confusion as i lock eyes with nick, "i'm actually not sure how i managed that."

"its okay baking isn't for everyone." i tease, he scoffs as chris laughs, "how do you mix for 20 minutes and all the ingredients look the exact same as when we put them in the bowl." chris says,

nick mocks him with a finger in the air and a nerdy tone, chris punches his shoulder.

i step away, "do you guys have a bathroom?" i ask, "nah we shit in the woods." chris says.

"yeah, we use the bark off the trees to wipe then bury it with our hands." nick adds on, unlocking the backdoor and opening it for me.

i go to walk out slowly, chris grabs my shoulder and spins me around, "down the hallway, and the last door on the left."

"oh-" i say with a loud laugh as i walk down the hall, i hear the metal of the bowl collide with the wooden floor from behind me "shit!" nick says.

i get to the end of the corridor and look to my right, the door is shut. i grip the handle and open it,

my eyes widen as i instantly grow hot, the third triplet, matt, is laying across the bed. hes wearing a green shirt and a necklace hangs loosely around his neck. his sweatpants are tugged down to his mid thighs as he's repeatedly running his hand up and down his length with his head thrown back.

(matts pov)

"fuck- fuck fuck-" strings of whimpers exit my mouth as slick noises fill the room, i brush my fingers over my sensitive tip before continuing to run my hand up and down my cock, the cold metal of my rings dragging against the veins.

"oh my god 'm- please please-" i whine, squeezing my eyes shut as i throw my head back against my headboard. my ears ring,

i dont even register the click of the door opening until i hear a feminine gasp "shit-" i hear.

my eyes spring open as i abruptly stop all hand movements, she stares at me in shock. her face is white and her mouth is open, after a few seconds she scrambles out of the room with several 'sorry's'

i sigh as my cheeks grow red, i didn't even cover myself. my hand is still wrapped around my length.

i stand up out of bed, my legs weak. i'm still hard but i've completely lost my train of thought, too embarrassed to think about finishing now. i hear the bathroom door slam shut, meaning that this girl has now found the bathroom.

i pull up my sweatpants, grabbing hand sanitiser off my bedside table and clean up my hands before pulling up my sweatpants.

"matt!!" i hear nick call from the kitchen. i open the door of my bedroom before making my way up the corridor.

(y/n's pov)

i unlock the door to the bathroom before walking back up towards the kitchen, the 3 triplets are there.

"we got the cookies in the oven but it turned to fucking liquid as soon as we put 'em in." chris says, pulling out the chair to the dining table and flopping down on it,

"this is matt, i don't think you've met him yet." nick says, matt and i lock eyes and he sticks his hand out for a hand shake.

i hesitate before shaking his hand, "formal ass greeting" nick says, elbowing matt and sitting down at the table, "sorry- 'm matt" matt says, running a hand through his hair "no worries, im y/n!" i say chirpily

all four of us gather at the table, matt is directly opposite me and i can feel his eyes lying on me, we keep making eye contact as chris and nick speak with each other about god knows, hes painfully attractive i have to admit, his tatoos, rings, awkward persona.

"its almost midnight, do you wanna start headed to bed?" nick asks me, i nod before walking off with nick towards his room.

"are you okay?" nick asks me as soon as the door shuts, "no- no i'm fine."

"is it matt?" nick laughs slightly as he pulls on a crewneck sweater and leaps into his bed. "yeah- no- i mean it's just i've met him before..?" i lie through my teeth, nick nods suspicously.

"well i'm tired as shit so i'm gonna cut it" nick says, "cut it?" i laugh, laying down beside nick.

"go to sleep? cut it....?" he smiles with a shrug.

nicks fast asleep, i just now remember the fact the cookies have been in the oven for over 35 minutes. i jump up, speed-walking out of the room and into the kitchen. i take out the metal tray, the 'cookies' are just lumps of charcoal now.

with a groan i exit the kitchen, i can see through the crack in his bedroom door that matt's still awake.

i don't know what posseses me but i knock softly on the door, "come in." i hear.

i open the door, matts shirtless in bed, still wearing those sweatpants from earlier.

(matt's pov)

my eyes widen as i see her walk into the room, "hi, uh- i just wanted to apologise for earlier." she says, i stand up out of bed to get closer to her, she shuts the door behind her. she’s only wearing a loose and long shirt which looks like a dress on her, with panties, which show every time she lifts up her arms.

"i should've knocked." she continues, i smile and shake my head.

"no i totally get it, honest mistake" i reply, "wasn't the best way to meet you so i'm sorry about that." she laughs slightly.

"its all okay," i say, "so you're not mad at me?" she asks shyly. "i would never be mad about that?" i sigh, pulling her into a hug.

theres a thick tension in the air, i don't know where it's come from but i know we are both feeling it.

she looks up at me, my arms are still loosely wrapped around her back.

she grabs my jaw before colliding our lips together, her lips are soft, i hesitate before kissing her back, my hand lacing into her hair.

i guide her back, she falls backwards onto my matress as our lips stay joined, our tongues now fighting for dominance.

her hands reach down and start tugging down my waistband. i pull away for a second, “are you sure?” i ask her, she nods frantically “please- yes.”

“arms up.” i say, she puts her arms above her head as i reach down, pulling off her loose tshirt. my eyes fall to her tits as my cheeks flush, she squirms on the matress impatiently.

i tug off her panties, discarding them somewhere across my room. she’s fully bare infront of me, her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

i lean over her to reach my bedside table, fiddling around in the drawer for a condom, “i’m on the pill,” she says grabbing my wrist and pulling me away

“oh shit okay!” i say, sounding a little too excited. she laughs slightly.

“you gotta be really, fucking, quiet.” i stare into her eyes, “nick is through that fucking wall and chris is the other side, if you get too loud i’ll stop mhm?”

she nods frantically “yes- yeah okay”

i line myself up with her, my hand travels down to grip her waist and i hold her hand with my free hand.

i push inside of her, instantly feeling her grip around me. i immediately worry, there’s not a single chance i’m lasting past a minute with her being this tight.

she lets out a delicate moan, holding herself back as she presses her lips together. i give her a minute to adjust before thrusting out to my tip, then pressing deeper inside of her.

with each thrust i pick up my pace as i stay concentrated on the wall, trying not to instantly cum.

she throws her head back, arching her back off my bed as every so often she lets out a shaky deep breath. i take the hand that’s on her waist and press down on her lower abdomen, seeing how far i can push her before she makes a noise.

i stop holding her hand with my other hand, and start tracing figure 8’s on her clit.

she finally breaks, letting on a desperate moan which seemed to come out louder than expected. i quicken my movements before slamming a hand over her pretty mouth. i hear a muffled ‘close’ and i continue to toy with her clit, keeping a hand plastered on her mouth.

she clenches around me, a whimper falls from my mouth as i feel her release, screaming my name.

i take my hand off her clit and place a hand on her throat, pressing lightly as she comes down from her high.

i pull out of her, finishing in my hand.

i flip down next to her, pulling her ontop of me and rubbing her back soothingly as i attempt to catch my breath. “matt..” i hear her say quietly,

“mhmm?” i reply, “can you walk me back to nicks room.” she says, sitting up on my thighs and reaching for her shirt.

“yeah, of course.” i say with a smile.

she crawls off of me to retrieve her underwear, which landed on my computer keyboard.

i sit up, pulling on my sweatpants and a soft shirt before grabbing her hand.

i creak open my bedroom door, she follows close behind me. i open the door to nicks room where he’s spread out on his bed, fast asleep. i pull down the covers and sweep her off her feet.

i lay her down on the bed, adjusting her head on the pillow before pulling up the duvet, i press my lips to her forehead before leaving the room.

————————-

(y/n’s pov)

9:38am

i wake up to the sun blaring on my face, i roll over, my legs still hurting from last night. i sit up, “nick” i tap him, he shoots up in bed.

“jesus!” i laugh, “how the fuck did you get up that fast- were you awake??”

nick erupts into laughter, “you scared me that’s all!” he says, i scoff before standing up out of bed, nick follows behind me as i open the door to his room.

i walk into the kitchen where chris and matt already are, leaning on the kitchen counter.

“good morning!” i say, matt shoots me a stupid smile “guess what.” chris says blankly, my heart drops, did he hear matt and i last night?

“what.” i instantly reply, looking over at matt who looks equally as nervous as me.

he walks over to the stovetop where the tray of ‘cookies were’ he picks them up and walks over to nick, matt and i.

“oh yeah- you dumbfucks left ‘em in the oven so i took them out.”

“what. the. FUCK is that” nick laughs, backing away from the burnt excuses of cookies.

“are they edible still?” chris genuinely asks, looking over at me for an awnser.

“chris what do you think.”

——————-

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut

800 notes · View notes

eupheme · 3 days

Text

— into the fire

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 1.6k

Tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, rough oral (m rec.), 2 seconds of boot riding, flashbacks, sorta implied mutual pining, threatening with a gun, light degredation, spitting

a/n: please mind the tags! 💕 I heard him say ‘sweetheart’ (derogatory) and I was a goner. (Cooper is referred to as The Ghoul because I felt like he sure as hell wouldn’t have given Reader his name yet.)

“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”

His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”

(Or - when you’re captured for a bounty, you make a deal.)

Your knees sink dig into the ground, with the downward gesture of his finger.

Eyes tracking the hand that now wraps around his belt buckle, then up to the tongue that traps between parted teeth.

No more than a week ago, he had lasso’d a rope around your throat. Bringing you to the ground - his weight of his hips pinning you solidly against the earth.

“There’s a bounty out for a Vaultie like you.,” The Ghoul had growled, as you bucked uselessly against him. “You know that?”

The days since were spent leashed by his side - almost like a pet, with the way he kept a handle on the rope twined tightly around your wrists.

Making you walk ahead, a sharp tug that sent you stumbling if you wandered too far.

All the while, you still felt that gaze that slipped over you.

Dipping with the zipper that had dragged down, pinched between fumbling fingers. Just wanting to feel the breeze against your skin - luxury you never had in the Vault. It lingered where the sweat beaded, nestled down in the shadow between your breasts.

If he needed permission to want you, you’d give it to him.

“You can use me,” You had told him - desperate, one night. “Whatever you want. Please, I can’t go back.”

“You best think twice about what you’re offerin’, sweetheart.” The Ghoul has rasped. A tilt of his head, as his eyes dragged over you.

You let them, your own eyes wandering as well. Across gaunt eyes and roughened skin, trying to piece together the man beneath.

Picking up on tiny things in the days that followed. Clinking spurs, his accent - akin to old programs they used to show back at your Vault. Hints that he’s been around a long, long time.

The Ghoul was terrifying in a way that thrilled you. You’d never seen someone move like he did, drawing faster than you could blink. A nightmare shrouded in a tattered leather coat, moving like a ghost.

He could rip your throat out with his bare teeth.

But he hadn’t.

You hadn’t had much to bargain with but you begin think even if you had caps - you might have ended up right here anyways.

But he hadn’t made a move to touch you.

Not until today, when your packaged water had run dry.

Until he saw the way you eyed him, envious. Another ten miles of desert road ahead, the sun following you from above and your throat growing drier with each one.

“You want some?” He asked, letting you watch the bead of water that rolled down his chin. “Then I think you know what you need to do, sweetheart.”

He’s collecting on your offer, now.

Adjusting himself, under the shadow of a crumbling building. Your thighs parting as you find your balance, fists pressing into uneven ground. The rope tied around fixed firmly under the heel of his boot, leaving you unable to use them in a manner you’d like.

The Ghoul’s hat shields his eyes, but he can’t hide the curve of his cock against his pants - the interested twitch, when he frees himself.

“Don’t get shy on me, now.” He clicks his tongue, fingers wrapped around the base, “This was your idea, after all.”

There’s a warmth pooling in your belly, as you shuffle closer. The part of your lips, the peek of your tongue against the tip.

It’s much like the rest of him. Pulled-tight pink skin, roughened and wrinkled divots. Velvety and warm, as you take him into your mouth and suck.

He swells, as your lips wrap around him. As he inches deeper, with the shallow bob of your head. Heavy against your tongue, it’s not long at all before he’s fully hard.

You try to take more, struggling with your limited balance, the full size of him. Teeth scraping against skin, when his hand twists in your hair.

There’s a ragged groan rattling in his throat - then there’s the cool press of a muzzle against your cheek, the low growling drawl of his voice.

“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”

His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”

Your heartbeat thuds beneath your ribs. His message clear - fuck around, use your teeth on him, and you won’t live long enough to find out.

You don’t test him. His grip lingers, until you go loose. Eyes lifting to meet his, letting him guide you.

The tightness in him unknots as well, when you let him into your throat. A low grunt, risking a glance down to see how well you take him - an unconscious buck of his hips into your waiting mouth.

“Not even two weeks out and you’re already sucking cock,” He grits out, “So fucking eager to do it, too. You like ghouls sweetheart? Or just me?”

His voice rips into you, sending your nerves alight. He leaks against your tongue as you trace the rough skin, unable to help groaning.

“Fuck,” The Ghoul growls, “Just mine. Let me hear you say it.”

His grip loosens, pulling himself from you. Spit clinging from the head of his cock to your lips as you swallow. A hand pinching at your chin, forcing your face to stay tipped up to his as you answer.

“Just yours.”

“Good,” He thumbs at your chin until you open again, tongue waiting against your lip. Filling you slowly this time, until he’s nudging against the back of your throat. Tears prick at your eyes, as you try not to gag around him.

The slow saw of his hips picks up. It’s difficult without your hands - messy, with the way he uses you. Though there’s something about it that itches at you, deep inside.

Something that makes the tight Vault Suit feel even more constricting. More than aware of the dampness that pools between your thighs. How the sound of his groans, the tight tug of your hair in his fist makes you clench.

It’s has your thighs pressing together, as he fucks your mouth. A shift of your wrists so you can press the back of your hand against your center - easing some of the ache.

The pull of the rope beneath his boot has his eyes flicking further downwards. A cruel smile, when he sees.

“Getting off on this, sweetheart?”

You whine, and the smile widens.

“Filthy thing, aren’t you?” He drawls, with the shift of his thighs. The other boot knocks against your wrists to move them, before fitting it between your thighs. Nudging against your center, giving you something to grind against.

It’s not enough, but you both knew it wouldn’t be.

It would be too kind, otherwise. And he’s shown that he’s sure as hell not nice.

A tear tracks down your cheek with the steady roll of his hips, your nose brushing hot skin with each thrust.

Your eyes shut - mindless, a soft buzz in your throat as you moan around him. Focused on his breath, how it grows short and panting and ragged.

Until he’s pulling himself from you with a grunt, his fist wrapping around his length.

“Unzip, darlin’.” He growls, as he works himself, “As much as I’d love to fully use that pretty mouth of yours, I ain’t about to share my RadAway.”

It takes you a second to catch the zipper on your Vault Suit, dragging it down. From your sternum to your abdomen - revealing the worn, white cotton of your bra, the inches of smooth skin beneath.

A hand frees from his grip in your hair. Touching you again, yanking at your suit and bra until it bares the tight peaks of your nipples.

“Goddamn,” He growls, “Just look at you. Bet you’re nice and messy beneath that suit.”

Fingers cup the weight, before he’s pinching down. Eliciting a soft moan, as his eyes sweep across your face - soft and half-lidded as you watch him.

“Should’ve just fucked you. Would’ve taken me so well, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” You breathe - imagining it. Bent over one of the broken tables inside. His cock buried in your cunt instead of your mouth.

The moan he makes sounds feral - bitten back between clenched teeth. His other hand sliding to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you in place as his fist tightens.

“Look at me,” The Ghoul commands, and you do. Meeting his gaze with pupils that are blown wide, watching how pretty and ruined you look as he comes.

His groan is long and low as he spills across your cheek. The next against your lips, then chin. The jerk of his fist working himself empty across your breasts, until you’re marked thoroughly with him.

Smeared sticky against your skin, leaving you empty and aching as he admires his work. A whine when The Ghoul tucks himself away, his hat tipped down low again.

“Oh,” He mocks, “You think I forgot?”

For the briefest moment, you think he means to touch you. To ease your need - or offer something to clean yourself with - but instead he’s pulling the canteen from his bag.

“Open.” He commands, before he’s taking the last remaining pull.

The protest is caught, as his hand grips your cheeks. As your lips part, like he told you to.

His jaw rolls, pooling the water against his tongue. And with the dip of his head - he spits.

This time, you swallow.

Nothing more was said, after. A cut-up scrap of cloth from his pack, tossed at you. He still clings to your skin, beneath the suit.

But as you start traveling again - as a crop of building rise up along the horizon in the north, that you realize -

You’re pretty certain the path has changed.

ahh I just finished Fallout! What did you all think?? I loved it, and I can’t see what they do with Cooper’s arc in s2 (and of course everyone’s, I loved Lucy as well!) (And would love to know what you thought about this, as well! I have thoughts on a follow-up if there’s interest!) 💖

#he’s so MEAN I loved his character #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout smut #fallout series #fallout #amazon fallout

465 notes · View notes

euthymiya · 2 days

Text

I GIVE YOU MYSELF — AVENTURINE (KAKAVASHA)

contents: female reader, implied sexual activity (but no explicit content), post coital conversations, hints at aventurine’s past, he tells reader his name for the first time, he is implied to return after penacony

aventurine is quiet after sex. which is a stark contrast to his usual self—he’s not quiet a lot of the time. he fills the silence with smooth talk and sweet drawls and overly loaded words to make up for the empty shell underneath. but after sex, he’s quiet. unresponsive, even. you think he’s hardly registering the rake of your nails across his scalp as you play with his hair.

his eyes are closed, fluttered shut as his head lays on your chest. a shame, you think, his eyes are far too beautiful to hide away like that, even for the sake of rest.

you know he doesn’t see them that way—but it’s not like he can be blamed. the world has always seen his eyes as less than what they truly are, and it’s only natural he takes to hiding them. typically, it’s behind those glasses of his, and you mourn the beauty of the ring of blue in his pupils as soon as the lens covers them up.

“cat got your tongue?” you murmur finally, breaking the silence and flicking the middle of his forehead affectionately. he blinks, snapping out of his trance as he peers up at you before throwing that lopsided grin on his face again.

it’s almost too easy—plastering on such a mask.

“well, if you want me to fill the silence i can certainly think of a method or two,” he winks, “just say the word.”

“haven’t you already gotten enough,” you raise an amused eyebrow as he chuckles. “don’t test your luck.”

“i always test my luck, sweetheart,” he grins, “it works doesn’t it?”

you haven’t seen him in weeks. six and a half, to be exact. forty-six days. one thousand, one hundred and fifty hours. he leaves in the morning, the last time you see him—you plant that hat of his on his head yourself as you kiss him goodbye.

i’ll be back soon, he told you.

don’t keep me waiting, you murmured between gentle pecks along his jaw.

his hand had quivered a bit in your grasp before he left, you couldn’t help but think at the time.

but he’s different somehow, now that he’s returned. you’re not sure how or why, but something about him is different. perhaps it’s the way he claimed your lips tonight, far more taking and far more confident than he’s ever allowed himself to be. like he deserves to be able to take (he does) and deserves to have someone give (you’ll always give). his hands are more daring with the way they explore you, mapping along the ridges and curves of your supple skin in ways he never indulged before.

perhaps, if you had to put a label on it, tonight it wasn’t sex. perhaps tonight, it was love you made. not that you’ve never loved him before this—you’ve loved him for quite a while now. but this time, he allows himself to love you. freely, that is.

you still don’t know his name. not properly, anyway. you’re certain he wasn’t introduced to this world as aventurine—but it’s all he’s ever given you, so you adopt the title baby. it’s easier that way, to feel like a real couple. a normal one.

come back safe, baby. how was your day, baby? goodnight, baby. i’ll see you when you come back, baby.

it’s all you know how to say. one day, if you’re patient enough and love him carefully, he might tell you his given name. you hold onto hope for that—but you’ll love him even if he doesn’t.

“and where have you been all these weeks,” you scold lightly. there’s hardly any hurt in your voice, though he can make out the lingering worry. “you left me to wonder if you were dead, baby.”

there it is again—baby. the word could practically be his name at this point, not a title of affection or a testament of your endearment. at this point, it almost feels like that’s who he is. baby. your baby.

something about it feels so wonderfully natural.

he’s silent for a moment before he murmurs, “kakavasha.”

“hm?” you furrow your eyebrows, scrunching them in confusion. “come again?”

“that’s my name,” he says quietly, “i…you can call me kakavasha.”

“kakavasha,” you test the name on your tongue, feeling him tense for a moment before he relaxes as soon as your fingers soothe through in his hair. you smile, grinning ear to ear as you repeat, “kakavasha. what a precious name. you’ve hid it for so long, you devious thing.”

he wrinkles his nose as you poke the tip, earning a giggle from you.

“i had to,” he whispers, nibbling on the tip of your finger.

i’m sorry, he wants to say.

you know bits and pieces of aventurine—kakavasha. those precious little sigonian eyes and that dreadful carving on the skin of his neck hint at enough. he doesn’t tell you, but something’s are easier to leave unsaid, letting the pieces fall slowly into place without the harsh breeze of bitter words. perhaps you’d always known that the man you love was never yours first, that he was always the property of someone else before you, before himself.

but something’s changed. kakavasha comes home different. he gives himself to you, by name and by body, by touch and feel and intimacy in ways he never could before. he gives himself away to you instead of keeping himself locked away.

you’ll keep him safe, you think. for a man who’s never truly had himself to hand you the pieces so easily, so hopefully, you couldn’t bear to let him down.

“kakavasha is beautiful,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks, lifting his head enough to plant a careful kiss to his lips. they quirk into a dazzling smile—not a plastered mask this time, but the real thing.

and a beautiful thing it is, his smile. laced with childlike glee and innocence that the world stripped away all too soon.

“i like baby better,” he says smoothly, “don’t you think it fits more?”

“i think fool fits you best if you really want my opinion,” you tease. (he pouts at that, and you know it’s only for the sake of getting another kiss pressed to his curled lips.)

“i won’t be asking for your opinion again,” he grumbles.

“but baby,” you drawl, scattering pecks along his cheeks and forehead, “don’t be like that. i was only teasing.”

he taps his cheek expectantly, waiting for another kiss, and of course, you oblige through a fit of delighted giggles. who are you to deny him, after all? after he’s been denied of so much already.

“i’ll stay this time,” he murmurs after some time (when he’s thoroughly satisfied demanding your unwavering affections), laying against your chest once more, “i won’t have to leave anymore.”

they won’t make me go.

“good,” you whisper, fingers tracing shapes into his bare back, suspiciously close to letters that spell kakavasha along his skin. he shivers under your touch, leaning impossibly closer. “you’re all mine now, then.”

“all yours,” he confirms. and finally, he can mean it.

i am so excited for his banner you guys don’t even know. if i don’t get him i’m going to eat a rattlesnake

#writing tag #aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #kakavasha x reader #aventurine x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #kakavasha x you #aventurine fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #kakavasha fluff

458 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 3 days

Note

hii! I was wondering if you could write something about James meeting reader for the first time when he finds her crying at a party or something? and just takes the time to comfort her and get to know her?

Idk that idea just came to me and I think it’s so sweet and adorable 😭🙏🏼

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: alcohol

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You thought you came in here to be alone, but it’s just like a boy to come and ruin your plans. And just like James Potter to be drawn to the sound of your weeping like a superhero towards sirens.

“Hello?” You cover your mouth with a hand as the bedroom door creaks open. “Is someone in here?”

You recognize the voice even robbed of its usual levity, cautiously softened for your benefit. Your stilted breaths continue puffing out of your nose despite your attempts to be quiet, and James’ footsteps come closer.

“Hey,” he says, crouching in front of you, “you alright?”

“Mm-hm,” you hum pitchily. Your shoulders shake silently as tears continue gushing out of you.

James’ forehead creases. “What’s wrong, love?”

Your bottom lip wobbles at his concern, but you stay strong. “Nothing.” You wipe your cheek with the butt of your palm. “M’fine.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” He offers you a smile. The effect, you know, is dizzying when you’re sober, so you’re not too frightened when it works the same now. “Would you like a tissue?”

You nod, and James reaches for the nightstand behind you. He pulls open the top drawer, one hand protecting your head from bumping into it, and procures a box of tissues. You take it from him, holding it in your lap.

“How did you know where to find that?”

“This is my best mate’s room,” he says. “Sirius. I’m James, by the way.”

You blow your nose. “I know. I know who Sirius is, too.”

“Yeah?” James grins. You fold the tissue and start wiping under your eyes. It does nothing to erase the mascara tracks already running down to your chin, but James doesn’t think telling you that will help anything. “He’ll be happy to hear that. I know you, too, though I don’t think we’ve had the chance to speak before.”

“Sorry,” you say, patting the floor beside you for your drink. James subtly moves it beneath the bed. “I’m usually better to be around, I think.”

“I don’t know,” he replies, “I’m having a good time hanging out with you.”

You snort. “You must have a low bar.”

James’ eyebrows raise, surprised mingled with amusement. “Can I ask you something?”

You’re feeling for your drink again, not having processed its absence. “Um, sure.”

“How’d you end up in here?”

Immediately, your doleful mood returns. “Kayla’s mad at me.”

“Kayla Chapman?” James tries to catch your gaze again as you nod at the floor. “Why’s that, darling?”

“Sh—she—” Your lip wobbles again. When you don’t take a new tissue yourself James does it for you, pressing it into your hand. “We were together, and she was talking to this guy, and then she just disappeared,” you say while blowing your nose. “And she’d been drinking, so I was worried, you know?”

You look to James for approval, and he nods.

“Right, you didn’t want her to get taken advantage of.”

“Exactly! So I had to look for her forever, I was totally panicking, and when I found her I tried to ask if she was okay and she said—” your voice cracks “—I embarrassed her. She was s—so angry with me.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” James’ hand lands on your shoulder as you hunch over your lap. He rubs it consolingly. “I’m sure she’ll feel differently tomorrow. You were only trying to look out for her.”

“She won’t,” you cry, having long forgotten your reservations about doing so in front of James Potter. “And she was the only person I knew here, so now I’m all alone.”

“Well, that’s not true, is it?” He continues rubbing your shoulder steadily, as if comforting drunk girls at parties is something he does every night. It might be, you don’t know. “You know me.”

You sniffle. “I meant my only friend.”

“What, you don’t think of us as friends?” James sounds appalled. “I’m wounded, sweetheart. I thought we were getting in some quality bonding here.”

You miss the humor in his voice completely, looking up at him through still-glossy eyes. “Are we friends?”

“I’d like to be.”

“Why?”

James' expression does something funny. “Do you ask everyone who wants to be your friend that?” You tilt your head, unsure how to answer, but he goes on. “I like you. You try to keep your friends from being assaulted and you’re clearly conscious of your use of paper products—” You follow his gaze as he glances pointedly at the two tissues you’ve been folding to use over and over again “—what other qualities does a person need?”

Your lips quirk just a little. James’ smile blooms all over again for seeing it. “You’re really nice,” you tell him. “I mean, I knew you were, s’what everyone says, but it’s still good in person.”

A little laugh sputters out of him, but James doesn’t quite know how to respond to that.

“I’m tiresome,” you warn him gravely. “You’ll get sick of me.”

“I know we’ve only just met,” he replies, still smiling in that always-sunny way of his, “but I don’t really see that happening. I’ll be sure to let you know if it does.” He regards you for a moment. Your face is a mostly dried-up watershed of makeup and snot, collecting to a point around your chin, but James is happy to note no fresh tears seem prepared to spill. “Would it make you feel any better if we cleaned your face up a bit?”

You blink and touch your fingertips to your face, brow scrunching when they come away sooty. “Oh,” you say. “That would be nice.”

“I’ll be right back.”

James takes your drink with him, grateful you don’t seem to notice as he dumps what remains in Sirius’ sink and tosses the cup in the bin. When he returns with a washcloth dampened with warm water, you’ve leaned your head against the side of the mattress and are staring into the middle distance. You still look heart-wrenchingly sad. James wonders if your friend is anywhere near as inebriated as you, and whether she realized that by leaving with that guy she was leaving you like this. Whether it was really you who needed to be looking out for her or the other way around.

“Back.” His voice comes out quieter than he intends, reduced to nearly a whisper at the sight of your pensive state, but your eyes lift to his anyway. You raise your head as one corner of your mouth tilts upwards. It’s a greeting and, in James’ opinion, a decided improvement.

He squats in front of you, palming one side of your face. “Close your eyes, love.”

James has always made fun of Sirius for his “angsty towels,” but he sees their true purpose now; your makeup hardly shows on the dark material. He swipes it over your skin gently, extra careful around your eyes.

“This is really nice of you,” you say. James decides not to let you know you’ve already expressed this sentiment. “This is, like, best friend level of niceness.”

“Best friend,” he repeats, delighted. “Well, if I’d known I was going for the promotion, I would’ve gone above and beyond. Lavender oils on the washcloth and everything.”

“Mm, you earned it on your own, though.”

James grins. Your eyes are closed, but you’re smiling too.

548 notes · View notes

alvojake · 1 day

Note

i need tattoo artist jungwon and reader is his client, also his ex-girlfriend

「notes」 : thank you, anon, for blessing my inbox with this beautiful request because it left me thinking of tatted jungwon for days 😵‍💫

Inked Hearts | Y.JW

「paring」 : tattoartist!exbf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.9k

「synopsis」 : it has been a few months since you and jungwon had a huge fight resulting in you breaking up; though things ended poorly, you still craved his touch. then you realize that you still have a tattoo appointment with him, dreading it. you just decide to push his buttons, not fully expecting it to end with you bending over the bed.

「genre」 : smut

「warning」 : cussing, biting/marking, fingering, begging, choking, slight hair pulling, size kink, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), orgasm denial, edging, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, manhandling, petnames (babydoll, baby...), the reader is a brat, clit play, teasing, rough sex, both the reader and jungwon are kinda toxic, public(ish) sex, bulge kink, lmk if I missed anything!

It had been almost a month and a half since you and Jungwon had broken up over a petty little argument that some jealous girl in the club started. All because she couldn’t get Jungwon to budge when hitting on him. So what does she do? She spills her drink all over your outfit, then gets one of her guy friends to ‘help’ clean it up. All while making sure Jungwon was watching the whole time, this guy not so discreetly put his hands all over your chest.

The whole thing resulted in Jungwon yanking you away from Mr. Handsey and blowing up right outside of the club. He didn’t give you even a chance to explain what had happened, which only pissed you off. So you ended up yelling right back at him, embarrassed and hurt that he didn’t even bother giving you a chance to explain then goes and starts shouting hurtful things right outside where prying ears could easily hear.

It was safe to say that you never returned to your shared apartment that night, or any night, really. You only showed up when he wasn’t home to gather the things you’d need to crash at a friend's house until further notice.

Everyone told you that it would all blow over, and you would be able to talk it out with him. However, you knew he was too stubborn and your pride too large for either of you to step up and apologize first. This brings you to your current situation, staying with friends and working part-time at the very club that started this whole mess.

You didn’t really want to be working in the same place that ended your four-year-long relationship, but it’s not like you had much of a choice. It helped pay bills and kept you from going hungry. Though you can’t say, you valued your job enough to not jump over the counter every time you saw the little wench that ruined everything. The only thing holding you back was sitting behind bars until someone could come and bail you out. If they did.

Jungwon was still a sore spot for you, especially when you would drive by his tattoo shop. The very shop where he gave you your very first tattoo. The same shop that you were sure he had you bent over or on top of about every surface he could. Fucking you so good you saw stars and leaving your legs shaking. It brought back memories you wished you could relive, but then you remembered everything, and you’d be damned if you were going to be the first to apologize.

But you never received a call nor a text of any kind from him, sure that he had blocked you. Thus leading you to believe that everything was actually over and you’d never see him again.

Or so you thought…

“Son of a fucking bitch!” You exclaimed, nearly flinging yourself off of your bed, phone clutched tightly in your hand.

“Y/n language!” your current roommate, Karina, shouted from down the hall. Rolling your eyes, you threw your phone on the bed and stood on your feet. Not even two seconds later, Karina was peeking into your room, fixing her septum. “What happened, though? Anything juicy?”

You couldn’t help but give her a deadpan stare, you loved her, but her incessant need for any gossip was one thing that damn near drove you up a wall.

However, you just let it slide this time because you needed someone to rant to. “I fucking forgot that I had a tattoo appointment with Jungwon today.” You groaned, flinging yourself backward onto your bed while Karina stifled a laugh.

“Damn, babe, looks like the world is really against you.” She smirked at you, her eyes scanning your face catching the conflicted emotions that swirled in your eyes.

Karina would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy seeing you like this; it was a taste of your own medicine, really. You were one of her closest friends, but anyone with a pair of eyes could tell that you sucked at communication and then blamed it on the other person. Was she rooting for you and Jungwon to get back together? Definitely. Was she also rooting for the possibility that Jungwon or someone would do something about the attitude you’ve had? Fuck yes.

“Are you still going to go?” Karina asked as she looked down at her nails, making a mental note to repolish them when she had the chance.

With a sigh, you brought your hand to your forehead, rubbing the crease between your eyebrows. “I’m gonna have to. Jungwon is the only one that I know that can ace this design.” Groaning you slapped the palm of your hand against your forehead, “fuck it, I’m going, worst comes to worst I’ll just let Jay do it.”

Karina hummed, looking up at you through her lashes, watching as you hastily searched your wardrobe for a suitable outfit. She had to bite back a smirk when you pulled out a black lace bra and matching underwear. As much as you say you’re dreading running into your ex, your actions tell a whole other story.

You made it to the tattoo studio well before your appointment was meant to start; you’d rather be super early than late.

Walking inside, you were greeted by the receptionist you’ve known since Jungwon hired her a year or so ago. Her lips were covered in a huge smile, showcasing her smiley piercing.

“Y/n, oh my god, it’s been forever! How have you been?” Belle greeted you as she stood from her seat, rushing over to engulf you in a hug.

“Hey Belle, I’ve been okay.” You patted her back softly before she moved away, her eyes shining brightly, “is Jungwon here?”

Belle’s eyebrows scrunched together, confused about your usage of Jungwon’s full name. She hadn’t been aware of the breakup, thinking that you had your own personal matters to attend to, which is why she hadn’t seen you.

“He went out to grab a few things, should be back soon.” The new voice caused your head to turn, catching sight of the tall, dark-haired male standing in the doorway, the light reflecting off of his eyebrow and lip rings. “How have you been holding up pipsqueak?”

“Oh, you know, another day in paradise.” You shrugged, and Jay chuckled at the sarcasm dripping from your words, “And what have I said about that damn nickname?”

“And I’ve told you countless times to get used to it; it’s not goin’ anywhere.” He shrugged with a smirk, causing you to glare at him. “I’m surprised Won didn’t cancel the whole appointment; he’s been huffing and puffing about it all week.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “of course he has.”

Jay laughed at the sour expression that had taken over your features, knowing that you weren’t much different from Jungwon with the whole ‘being the bigger person’ bit. Even if the two of you were locked in a room, he doubted you’d apologize to each other—at least not verbally.

Which is why Jay took it upon himself to clear out the studio as soon as you were back in Jungwon’s room. Giving you two the chance to ‘talk’ it out and saving everyone in the studio from the trauma of hearing it all happen. However, he needed something that he knew you’d use that would essentially set Jungwon off.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m free if you’d rather me do your tattoo,” he suggested, and he could see the hope gleam in your eyes. Too bad it was just a front. There was no way in hell that Jungwon would let anyone else do your tattoo, especially another guy, not with where it was placed.

“If he gives me too much hell, I might just take you up on that offer.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, unknowingly pushing your breast up.

The sound of the bell above the door caused him to avert his gaze, already knowing who had just walked in.

Jungwon walks in, and his eyes instantly fall on you before flickering over to Jay, who had been in mid-conversation with you. His face sours at the sight of you just standing there, more so when he notices the thin shirt you are wearing, as well as the skirt that sits just barely below your ass. Noticing his presence, you look over before rolling your eyes at the glare that harbored his face, already growing annoyed with his face.

You turn away, opening your mouth to talk to Jay once more. However, you are cut short when Jungwon walks in front of you, setting things down on the reception desk.

“Is your memory that bad that you forgot where my room was, or were you just waiting for an escort?” His tone was snarky as his eyes flickered over to you, eyebrow quirked up. He couldn’t help but smirk at the annoyed expression that painted your face beautifully. If there was one thing he loved almost just as much as fucking you, it was getting under your skin, riling you up.

“I do not ne-” “Hey Belle, put these in the back for me, will ya?” Jungwon just cut you off leaving you standing there looking at him with a flabbergasted look, jaw clenched tightly.

Jay stood off to the side, watching with an amused gleam in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure, then he’s definitely sure now. It wasn’t just any normal tension between the two of you. No, it was just straight sexual tension. He then looked over at Heeseung, who had just looked up from his phone, motioning towards the door. The purple-haired male nodded before motioning to the others discreetly.

“Come on, Dory, let me show you the way since you obviously don’t remember.” Jungwon’s words struck a cord, and it took everything in you not to blow up. Your dark eyes watched Jungwon’s back as he walked into the main room, taking a deep breath deciding that he wasn’t worth the humiliation. So you waved softly at Jay before following after your ex-boyfriend.

Walking into Jungwon’s room, you could easily tell that he was annoyed, especially when he shut the door with such force that it shook the walls a bit. Rolling your eyes once more, you walked over to the counter, leaning back on it.

“You know, if you’re so pissed about doing my tattoo, I’m sure Jay would love to do it for me.” You bit back a smirk as his jaw tightened, the veins in his neck starting to pop out. A sense of pride filled your chest, knowing that you were slowly getting under his skin.

“Shut up and take your shirt off.” He hissed through gritted teeth, turning his body to face you. His eyes bore into you, making a chill go down your spine. The same stare that he would give you moments before he pinned you to the next surface and ‘taught’ you a lesson. Normally you would have thought that it would disgust you after everything, but no. It left your body burning, sure that your panties were already getting soaked.

However, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of winning. No, he was going to have to make you.

“You know that’s not how you would talk to a client, plus the least you could do is turn around.” You sassed him, crossing your arms over your chest once more, a smirk spreading across your glossed lips.

It took Jungwon two seconds flat to move in front of you, hands against the counter, caging your body in. His warm breath fanned your face as he inched closer. Your heart lept in your chest at the sudden proximity, and your stomach did flips as his scent filled your senses.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you in less. Take it off before I tear it off.” He growled, the sound sending a wave of heat right to your core.

Keeping your composure, you stood straight, brushing your nose right against his, finger poking his chest. “Last time I checked, you said you didn’t want to see my tainted goods.”

In the blink of an eye, Jungwon had his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to elicit a whimper from you.

“The only thing ‘tainted’ about you is that damn attitude.” His voice was low as he pulled you closer to him, his lips ghosting over yours. Your eyes stared up at him, pupils blown wide, and Jungwon wasn’t stupid; he knew you were doing this to get a rise out of him. A smirk then spread across his lips, sending a shiver throughout your body, “how about you listen and lose it, or…” he closed the gap between your bodies. Your heart lurched when you felt his bulge against your stomach. “Am I gonna have to fuck it out of you like old times?” The sinister gleam in his eyes was enough to tell you what the answer was.

“Won…” You breathed out, voice hoarse from his hold. Your body was becoming uncomfortably hot, and the ache between your legs only grew as the seconds passed.

Jungwon chuckled, “Oh, so it’s Won now? Not Jungwon or asshole?” His fingers tightened a bit more, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. Then his smirk faded, and his eyes darkened, “On the bed, give me any more attitude, and you won’t be cumming, babydoll.” His grip then fell from your throat, allowing you to breathe properly.

You bit your tongue to suppress the smirk on your lips as you walked over to the bed, climbing on top. Laying back on your elbows, your legs parted just enough to give him a peek at your black underwear.

“Are you sure you can restrain yourself? I mean, it has been a while.” Your lips quirked up as you stretched your foot out, brushing over his growing erection. Amusement gleamed in your eyes as his jaw tightened, his eyes darkening even more.

Jungwon grabbed your ankle, pulling it to his side before slotting himself between your legs. Your breath hitched in your throat as he grabbed your hip, pulling your body flush against his. Your body shivered at his touch, goosebumps littering your skin, and the arousal pooling in your panties grew even more.

“Missed my touch that much, huh?” That cocky smirk found its way back onto his lips, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, right.” You huffed, staring up at him, but Jungwon wasn’t stupid. He knew your body like the back of his hand—every little thing that made you tick, all the places that would have you like putty in his hands. He knew that you were craving him just by the look in your eyes when you walked in.

“Really?” He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, eyes boring into yours. “Because your body is telling me otherwise.” His fingers found your clothed core, pressing down, feeling your slick soak through. Your jaw clenched shut trying to keep from letting any noises out, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“How do you know it’s for you? I mean, Jay does loo-” Before you could even finish your sentence, Jungwon had his ring-clad fingers wrapped around your throat. Squeezing hard enough to elicit a squeak from your lips, eyes staring up at him with a glare.

“Finish that sentence, I dare you.” He growled, his eyes challenging you and normally you would have just kept your mouth shut, but right now? You wanted to push his buttons until he snapped, that little voice in the back of your head telling you that you didn’t have to obey him.

He wasn’t your boyfriend anymore, after all.

Your lips curled into a smirk, eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips for a split second. “I was saying that Jay looks more than capable to fuck me stupid.”

Then, just like that switch flipped in Jungwon’s brain, his eyes darkened with a rage you’ve never seen before. His hand around your neck released its grip before he leaned back far enough to strip himself of his jacket, revealing his inked skin. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, hands itching to touch him. However, before your hands made contact with his skin, he had your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head.

Jungwon’s dick twitched in his pants as he took in how small your hands were in comparison to his. Really just how much smaller you were compared to him altogether. He loved it, loved how easy it was for him to trap you in place. Loved how easy he could maneuver your body to whatever position he wanted. He then realized just how much he missed having you pinned underneath him.

“Babydoll, we both know that no one can fuck you stupid like I can.” He chastised you before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your jaw. Your body squirmed under his, the heat making you feel lightheaded. The need for some kind of friction was almost overbearing.

Jungwon relished in the way your hips were moving against his, listening to the soft sounds that left your lips. His free hand then moved from your hip, finding your clothed clit, and pressing down harshly.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your nerves shooting shockwaves throughout your entire body. His hands were rough on your body, sending your mind reeling. “Won, wait- shit, please be gentle.” You whined out as his pace picked up, making your body jolt. Tears are already pricking at the corner of your eyes.

Jungwon chuckled darkly before he bit down on the junction of your neck, “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address.” he growled before moving your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your tight hole with ease.

Your mouth fell agape as soundless moans fell from your lips, and your body shivered. It had been far too long since you’ve experienced anything like this, and it was turning your brain to mush.

“Look at you, I’ve barely done anything, and you’re already about to cum.” He berated you as he slipped another finger into your soaping cunt.

“Jungwon!” You cried out, nails digging into the palm of your hand. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and the knot in your stomach tightened unimaginably as his fingers brushed against your sweet spot.

Your eyes rolled back, legs twitching on either side of his hips as his fingers coaxed your climax closer. Jungwon smirked against your skin, knowing you were close to the way you were squeezing his fingers like a vice. Your moans of his name were music to his ears, though what he wanted was for your ability to make coherent sentences completely useless.

Just as your high was about to crash over you, Jungwon pulled his soaked fingers from your pulsating pussy, making a loud whine fall from your parted lips.

“Fuck! You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?” You cried out, meeting his eyes as he pulled away from your neck.

“You didn’t think I’d let you cum that easy, did you?” He smirked, keeping his eyes on yours as he stuck his drenched digits in his mouth. You whined, wiggling under his grip as frustration bubbled up in your chest. “Be a good girl and beg, then I might let you cum.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, eyes glaring up at him. “In your dreams, pretty boy.” You spit out, jaw clenched tightly. Eyes watched as he just shook his head, a sinister smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be begging for me by the time I’m through with you.” His fingers then slipped back into your slick cunt, his pace relentless. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep your noise down while he worked his slender fingers into you.

The pattern continued for what felt like hours. Jungwon would work you close to your climax before ripping it away. Tears were spilling from your eyes, smearing your makeup from the frustration of not being able to cum.

You had lost count of how many times he’d denied you, but you knew that you could only handle so much more. The underwear you had been wearing had been tossed off in the room somewhere, leaving your arousal to pool on the bed beneath you.

The skin of your neck and chest had been painted in deep red and purple blotches as well as bite marks. Your pupils were blown wide as you stared up at him. Your walls clenched around his fingers once again as another orgasm built up in your gut.

“Won-” You were cut off by a choked moan as he denied you yet another orgasm; sobs racked your lungs as you wiggled under his hold.

“Awww, is my poor baby getting frustrated?” He smirked, eyes studying your expressions as he slid his fingers back into your puffy cunt. His pace was quick, making sure he added extra pressure to your sweet spot, knowing that you would fold sooner rather than later.

As another orgasm built up, your eyes rolled back, and your will was slowly diminishing. Your chest was tight as you anticipated him to stop once again.

And he did.

You cried out, pleading with him with your eyes, but he wanted to hear you. You knew that you were going to have to swallow your pride if you were going to get what you wanted.

A gasp fell from your lips as he pressed against your clit, moving in tight circles. Your head fell back as you tried to form a coherent sentence.

“Won- fuck, please don’t stop. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You panted, eyes meeting his darker ones.

He leaned down, kissing the corner of your lips before trailing to your ear as he sunk his fingers back into you. "See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?”

Pleas and whines fell from your lips as he continued to work into your core, tears blurring your vision. Hoping that he wouldn’t stop this time, that he would actually give you what you wanted.

But just like before he pulled away just as it was about to crash over you.

Before you could even whine about it, he let go of your hands, pulling your body off of the bed, flipping you over before bending you over. A choked moan fell from your lips when he landed a harsh smack on your ass before rubbing the red spot.

“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you cum babydoll.” He smirked, hands tracing up your thighs and under the skirt you were still wearing. His thumb pressed against your slit, watching as you clenched around it.

“Wonnie, please fuck me already.” You whined head turned to look back at him. Eyes glazed over with lust, the only thing on your mind was having him fucking you so good that you saw stars.

He unzipped his pants before tugging them down, letting his dick spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight, hips subconsciously wiggling in anticipation. He chuckled darkly before pumping himself a few times, then grabbing your hip in his other hand. He teased your entrance with his tip until you were a whining, begging mess.

“Well, if you want it so bad, then you better start taking it.” Without another word, he bottomed out in one go, causing a pitiful squeak to leave your lips.

“W-Won-” Your words caught in your throat as he started thrusting into you at a bruising pace, not giving you a chance to adjust. His hand gripped your hips so tightly that you were sure there would be bruises by the next day.

Another choke moan spilled from your lips as one of his hands snaked around your waist, fingers finding your sensitive clit. He circled the bundle of nerves harshly in time with his thrust causing your body to jolt and a cry to fall from your lips.

You buried your face into the hard cushions of the bed, hoping to muffle some of your noises, suddenly becoming acutely aware of where you were. You prayed that no one could hear anything that was going on right now. However, Jungwon didn’t care who heard. Actually, he did care because he wanted everyone to know who you belonged to, especially Jay.

He grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your body up, your back flush against his chest as he continued to plow into you. Your moans grow louder as the position changes.

“Feels good, huh, babydoll?” He chuckled as his hand snaked around your hips, pressing down on the small bulge in your lower stomach. A choked cry fell from your lips as he pressed down, making you feel him even more, “You really wanna tell me that Jay can fuck you just as good as I can? Hmm?”

You shook your head frantically, knowing that no one would be able to get you like this but him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck Jungwon!” You screamed out the worry of other people hearing completely gone from your mind.

He continued to pound into your abused pussy, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. The pressure of his hand on your stomach was making your mind fuzz as moans and whines of his name fell from your lips.

“Gonna cum already baby?” He growled in your ear as he snapped his hips into yours, hitting spots that only he had claimed for himself. His grip tightened on your waist as he angled his hip a bit more.

“Holy shit!” You cursed loudly, your eyes rolling back as he hit your sweet spot dead on. Your mouth fell open as your head lolled back, drool spilling from the corner of your lips.

A high-pitched squeak left your mouth when he brought his hand from your stomach to your clit, rubbing harshly. All of the pleasure and your impending orgasm were causing your legs to start shaking and your mind to go blank.

“That’s it, babydoll, give it to me. Make a mess on my cock” Jungwon knew you were close, switching his position once more until you were crying over his dick, moments away from your orgasm. He pressed wet and hot kisses along your exposed neck before biting down in time with his fingers on your clit.

Silent moans fell from your lips, and your vision turned white as your orgasm tore through your body. Jungwon groaned into your skin as you clenched down tightly on him, but his pace didn’t slow, easily throwing you into overstimulation.

“W-Won- fuck!” Your whole body was trembling as continuous waves of pleasure washed through your body.

“Fuck. I’m almost there; just hold on.” His harsh and gruff tone had switched to soft and borderline whines, causing your mind to almost combust.

His once harsh pace was starting to become sloppy, erratic, and uneven, a telltale sign that he was close. His hips still snapped into yours harshly, which was bringing you closer to another orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You whine out, nails digging into Jungwon’s forearms, trying to ground yourself as another climax washes over you, nearly taking your breath away. Tears were spilling from the corner of your eyes, falling down and drenching Jungwon’s shirt under your head.

“Fuck, I’m cumming. You’re gonna take all of it, babydoll, got it?” He growled in your ear but didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was pumping his load into your womb.

His hips jerk a few more times, fucking his cum back into you before falling to a complete stop.

Heavy breathing filled the room as you both stood there, trying to catch your breath. Jungwon pressed soft kisses over the swollen spots on your skin where he had bit down. Coaxing you back down from your high, fingers drawing shapes on your hips.

“Won…” You breathed out, blinking your eyes a few times to clear the tears before glancing up at him.

“There she is.” He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The feeling made your heart flutter—you had missed this, you had missed him.

Then everything came flooding back, the hurt following. Swallowing thickly, you pulled yourself away from him before searching for your underwear with shaky legs.

“Y/n, what are you doing?” Jungwon asked, fixing himself before making his way towards you.

“This shouldn’t have happened, we’re not together anymore.” You told him, your eyes looking everywhere but him.

Jungwon could hear the hurt in your tone, and he knew you were right about the not being together part, at least. However, he wasn’t about to let you walk away from him again no matter how upset he was then, he knew now.

“Baby…” His hands found your waist, pulling you into his chest, causing your heart to lurch.

“Jungwon, let me-” “No, please listen to me. I’m sorry I was such a dickhead.” He breathed out, arms wrapping around your smaller frame, “I should have let you explain but instead I just let her words cloud my mind and I know that’s not any excuse, but I’m sorry I truly am.” His words sunk into your skin, and tears brimmed in your eyes once more. “Let me make it up to you. Give me a chance, please baby.”

You inhaled shakily before turning your head to look back at him, “Fine, but only if we go to that one restaurant I like.”

Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before peppering kisses all over your face, “Whatever you want, baby.”

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 : @heesitation @riftanswhore @yeonzzzn @yzzyhee @skzenhalove @seuomo @moonchus @enha-stars @ikeuverse @prized-jules @ro-diaries @yeonjunsfox @snoopypupp @wonnie99 @pockettwinzz

455 notes · View notes