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janaispunk · 3 days

Text

delicate

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~3.9k

summary: You meet a mysterious man at a club. He's just as attracted to you as you are to him.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, very soft dom!Oberyn, protected p in v (who am I), dirty talk, fingering, anal play (m receiving), a hint of angst, romance because I can't help myself

a/n: written for @dancingtotuyo’s on repeat drabble challenge, based on the song delicate by taylor swift. this is honestly just feral, i have nothing to say for myself.

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates!

Lights are flashing, colors dancing over the exposed skin of your arms and shoulders; the bass is pumping, making your whole body feel like it’s vibrating from within. You’re clinging to your friend, your arms intertwined as you navigate your way through the crowd of people to the bar.

You first see him as you’re gulping down your drink, welcoming the cool liquid in your parched throat. Your eyes are observing the crowd, flying over him and then flickering back to take a second glance.

He’s gorgeous, his dark hair a mess, a beard framing his face, his skin shining under the lights. He’s wearing a shirt that flows around his body, threads of gold weaving through the fabric and reflecting the dancing lights. It’s almost entirely undone, giving you a generous look at the expanse of his toned chest, at the sun-kissed skin that you feel a sudden urge to run your fingers over. A massive gold chain with a lock hangs around his neck, an accessory that you’re convinced would look absolutely ridiculous on anyone else. But on him, it somehow only accentuates the strong cords of muscle that ripple under his skin in a way that makes you want to lick your lips.

He moves with a confident ease, his body in tune with the stomping beats, his whole being exuding an almost cocky self-assuredness. You keep drinking him in, fascinated in a way that you can barely understand. You realize that you’ve been staring when your friend follows your line of sight and you hear her quiet gasp beside you.

“Haven’t seen that one around before,” her voice floats into your ear over the music and you shake your head in silent agreement. You’d definitely remember if you did.

You both watch him move with the body of a woman next to him, watch him bend down to whisper something into her ear, watch the way his lips curl into a smug grin as she grinds against him in reaction to his words.

“Too late, I guess,” you laugh, downing the rest of your drink and tearing your eyes away.

The two of you head back into the crowd, swaying your bodies to the beat. You try to get lost in the feeling of it, but your eyes keep searching for him, hungrily grasping at the glimpses of him that you can spot. Eventually, you watch the retreating backs of both of him and the woman head toward the exit, their bodies closely intertwined. Like you said, you try to shrug it off, too late. It’s not a big deal, there’s more than enough other guys around you.

But you don’t go home with any of those guys, none of them able to catch your interest the way he did, and when you lie in bed in the early morning hours, your head pleasantly buzzing with the remaining alcohol in your bloodstream, you still see him behind your eyelids.

A few weeks go by and while you hope to catch him every time that you’re out, there’s no trace of him. It isn’t until your friend’s birthday celebration, a tradition that the two of you have kept up for years, that you see him again.

Again, you’re leaning against the bar, your eyes aimlessly drifting over the dancefloor while you’re sipping on your drink, when you spot him. He’s wearing another colorful shirt, his chest almost entirely on display, and he’s shamelessly grinding against another young man as they’re both moving to the beat. You can’t tear your eyes away, apparently staring so intently that he catches you and throws you a wink across the room.

You feel heat rising in your cheeks and almost turn away, but he’s already on his way, moving towards you with a cat-like grace, effortlessly weaving through the crowd of moving bodies.

“Hey,” he says, leaning into you so close that his breath fans hot against your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your neck. “Saw something you like?”

You grin at him over the rim of your cup, biting your lip and nodding. He mirrors your grin, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. He’s even more gorgeous up close, a light sheen of sweat on his face and his eyes a smoldering brown, his dark hair a mess with strands sticking to his forehead. You take in his toned chest, his broad shoulders and you desperately want to touch your hands to his golden skin. A foreign accent is lacing his words in the most delicious way, only adding to the pull that you feel towards him.

“Let me buy you another drink,” he purrs and you accept, thanking him and offering him your name. You relish in the way you have to lean into him so that he can hear you, greedily soaking in his scent and his body heat that make your mouth water.

His name is Oberyn, you learn, a name that sounds foreign on your tongue and you could swear that a quiet growl rises up his throat when you repeat it back to him.

You’d love to spend your evening dancing with him, pressing your body against his, find out if moving with him feels as good as it looks from the outside. But it’s your friend’s birthday, and you’re gonna stick together, dance the night away with each other and no one else, the way you do every year.

He shrugs it off when you tell him as much, an unbothered grin on his face as he promises you another time then. His hand wraps around your wrist, the warmth of it sinking into your skin as he pulls your arm out towards him, a black marker suddenly in his other hand.

“What are you–” you begin to ask, but your voice dies at the sight of him pulling the cap off with his teeth, something that really shouldn’t affect you this much.

He bends over your arm and it takes your hazy mind a moment to register that he’s writing numbers onto your skin. You’re getting lost in the feeling of his hand on you, even in such an innocent place, and your thoughts are already jumping to fantasies of how it would feel trailing up your arm and over your body.

“There,” his voice floats into your ear and you almost jump. The smug look on his face leaves no doubt that he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He leans in close again, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. Your mouth feels dry.

You look down at your arm, now adorned with digits in black ink. A phone number.

“Give me a call,” he smirks, and leans in even closer, until his lips move against the shell of your ear and a shudder runs down your back at the sensation. “Just think of the fun things we could do.” He throws you another wink and slides away from you, back into the crowd.

You text him the next day, worried if it’s too soon, if it makes you seem desperate. Then again, you have to admit to yourself, you are desperate. Desperate to hear his voice again, desperate to feel his hands on you again. Texting him is less awkward than you had hoped, his demeanor putting you at ease almost immediately. You catch yourself smiling at the screen, already down bad for this man.

You’re in bed, struggling to calm down enough to sleep when your phone’s screen lights up the darkness of your bedroom from where it’s lying on your nightstand.

He’s asking you to meet him in a dive bar, right now, if you want to. You’re reluctant at first, once again worried to appear too eager, but the almost magnetic pull that you feel towards him eventually leads you out of your apartment and to the address he sent you.

He’s waiting for you in the back, just like he told you. Wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt, the fabric stretching around his broad chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare, dressed much more casually than you’ve come to know from him. It doesn’t take away from his persona one bit, he’s still exuding that energy that seems to let him command every room he’s in, that makes it so hard for you to resist him.

He buys you a drink and pulls you into a corner booth with him. Talking to him is easy, he’s an attentive listener and his quick remarks make you laugh, leaning into him when you do. You learn that he’s not from around here, that he flew in to visit friends but that he’s thinking about moving here permanently. It almost scares you, how giddy that prospect makes you, the idea of having the chance to keep seeing him. His arm finds its way around your shoulders eventually, his fingers drawing shapes over your skin. The innocent contact makes you feel like a teenager, suddenly sixteen again.

He walks you home later, his arm still wrapped around you, pulling you into his side. It feels good, a sense of safety and intimacy that you feel yourself getting lost in. You had thought that he was hot, that he would be a fun hookup, but as the minutes tick on, you realize how much you already like him. How much you want this feeling to last.

It feels so natural, turning around to face him when you reach your building, both of you leaning in simultaneously until your lips meet, like it’s the only possible way for this evening to end. You think that it is.

Kissing him feels even better than you had envisioned in your mind, and you melt against him, one hand braced against his chest while the other comes up to pull at the hair in the nape of his neck, needing him closer, not ready to let him go. He’s cupping your face in both hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks, and you feel him smile against your lips. You lick into his mouth, revel in the groan that rumbles deep in his chest.

You don’t let go of him, holding onto his hand when you pull him up the stairs, soak in the feeling of him pressed against your body when you unlock your apartment door, let him connect his lips with yours again when he walks you backwards down your hallway.

Everything about him feels so right, so safe and yet like the most exciting experience you’ve ever had. You breathe him in, ecstatic with the sensation of his broad form against you, with the way you feel his muscles move under your fingers where you’re grabbing at his shoulders.

He lets you lead him into your bedroom, his hands still all over you. You push him down to sit on the edge of your bed and he follows your lead, sinking down on the mattress with an easy grin on his face, regarding you with hooded eyes. He wraps his hands around your waist as you’re standing in front of him and he pulls you closer. His fingers find their way below the hem of your skirt, dancing over the supple skin of your thighs, slowly inching up higher.

You whine, already squirming under his touch, and his grin widens.

“So soft,” he coos up at you, tightening his grip on your thighs and moving you to straddle him, your legs already spread wide to accommodate the thickness of his thighs beneath you. One hand comes up to cradle your face again, his thumb nudging at your lips and you flick your tongue against the digit, making him chuckle.

“And so pretty,” he continues, leaning in to connect your lips once more. You want to melt into him, let him consume every fiber of your being.

Your hands tug at his t-shirt, pulling it up, desperate to satisfy the need to be closer to him, to feel his bare skin against yours. He helps you, lifting the fabric over his head. You’ve seen most of his chest before, but not like this, not revealed just for you, in the dim light of your bedroom, yours to look at, yours to touch. He somehow seems even broader without clothes on and you’re almost transfixed by the thick cords of muscle of his arms and shoulders that are on display for you now.

He chuckles again, placing another kiss at the corner of your lips.

“You alright, princess?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling breathless, overwhelmed with how much you want him.

His hands splay over your thighs, fingertips dipping beneath your skirt again, slowly, teasingly skating higher.

“Take this off for me.” It’s phrased like an order, but it’s still so soft, not leaving a doubt in your mind that you could say no if you wanted to. But you don’t. You want him to see you, want to feel his eyes on you, want to have this hungry look that’s trained on your face burning all over your body.

He groans when you obey, a deep, rumbling sound that goes straight to your core and you know that he feels your thighs clenching on top of his. His mouth is on your bare skin within seconds, kissing and sucking, his tongue moving against you like he’s going to devour you.

You arch against him with a whine when he circles your nipple, first with his fingers and then with his tongue before sucking the sensitive bud between his lips. It’s all encompassing, the wetness of his mouth, the strong grip of his hands, the heat of his chest seeping into your skin where you’re pressing yourself against him.

“Please, Oberyn,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for, just knowing that you need more. His responding moan sends vibrations from his mouth straight through you, before his fingers dig into your waist and he flips you over, until your back is resting on your sheets and he’s hovering over you, your thighs still spread wide around him.

The image alone is enough to send another wave of arousal through you, the way he looks just as wrecked as you feel. His large hands spread your thighs wider as he leans back, his eyes trained on your panties, where you know the fabric must be soaked already.

“So pretty,” he mumbles again, more to himself than to you. His eyes fly back up to meet yours, almost black, his pupils blown wide. “Can I take these off?” He dips a finger under the lace covering your hip, pulling it away and letting it snap against your skin.

“Please.” You don’t care how desperate you sound, not when he looks up at you with the most sinful smirk on his face. His hands grasp the fabric and you lift your hips to help him pull it down, but his smirk widens as he tears the lace in half, ripping the shreds off of your body.

“Fuck,” you whine, not a single thought wasted on the fact that those were some of your favorite panties, every part of you focused on how badly you want his hands all over you.

His eyes stay focused on your expression, eagerly drinking in your every reaction as his fingers dip between your legs, so close to where you so desperately need him. He groans when he feels the wetness seeping from your folds, swirling his digits through it before reaching your clit. He’s ghosting over the sensitive nub with barely any pressure, but it’s enough to elicit a moan from you, your hips canting up to follow his touch. You’re distantly aware of the pleas that are falling from your lips, giving way to a loud whine when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your heat.

He thrusts into you, curling them just right, and his name tumbles out of your mouth again, laced with pure need. You watch in fascination when he sucks his slick-coated fingers into his mouth, eyes still trained on your face, a rumble forming in his chest at the taste.

“Tastes so sweet, princess.”

Your thighs fall open wider, shamelessly offering yourself to him, to his eyes, his hands. You reach out, grabbing at his waist, the need to feel all of him nearly overwhelming. His fingers intertwine with yours, pulling your hands away from his body. He lifts them up to his mouth and presses soft kisses against your knuckles, a whisper of patience on his lips before he lets go of you and rises up to rid himself of his jeans.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, a needy sigh escaping you when you think about feeling him inside you, about the way he’s gonna stretch your walls. You sit up, eagerly reaching for him again. Your fingers wrap around his cock, mesmerized by his girth, and he hisses when you move your hand over his length.

You hear the crinkle of plastic and then his hand is on yours, gently tugging it away, much too soon for your liking. You watch as he puts the condom on with practiced ease, the sight of his own hands on his cock enough to send another wave of arousal through you.

He’s back on you before you know it, sliding in between your spread legs, his large hands splayed over your upper thighs, pushing them further apart. His eyes are trained on your weeping pussy, a hungry darkness in them. You whine when he rubs his cock through your wetness before tapping against your clit.

“You want this?” he asks, his voice husky.

“Please, Oberyn.” Your desperate plea breaks off into a filthy moan when he sheathes himself inside of you, breaching your tight walls with the most delicious sting, and you feel your eyes rolling back into your head.

Pleasure grows inside of you as he starts to move, slamming into your pussy in a forceful rhythm. You feel so full of him, the sensation almost overwhelming as he hits the perfect spot over and over. The wave inside of you crests so suddenly that you barely realize what’s happening, the need that you’ve felt brewing all evening finally reaching its peak.

You gasp his name, nails pressing into his shoulders as he fucks you through it, until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He slows, moving in and out of you with shallow thrusts, his lips on yours once more.

You stay like that for a moment, arms wrapped around him, holding him close while you bask in the bliss that you’ve just experienced. But his continuous movements have the hunger for more growing inside of you once more. You meet his thrusts with your hips, needy to feel him deeper again. He props himself up, and it’s sinful how good he looks, his face glowing, a sheen of sweat on his skin.

You suck one of your fingers into your mouth, eyes wide and holding his gaze, feigning innocence. He watches you, a curious glint in his eyes, as you trail your hands from his shoulders down his back until you reach his ass and pull him further into you, fingernails digging into his flesh.

You let your saliva-covered finger reach further, gently massaging the puckered ring of muscle and he gasps, thrusting into you with so much force that it jostles your whole body and you cry out, the sensation of him so deep inside you a heady mix of pleasure and pain.

“Fuck,” he grits between his teeth as you keep up your ministrations, delighted to have this effect on him. “Fuck, princess, just like that…”

You bite your lip, grinning up at him. “Do the girls back home touch you like I do?”

He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, his movements never faltering as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them down on the mattress beside your head.

“No. And you’re gonna make me come if you keep this up, but I’m not finished with you yet,” he purrs, leaning down and sucking bruising kisses into the soft skin of your throat, the scratch of his beard only adding to the sensation. You free one of your hands from his grip to tug at his hair, your fingers burrowing in the soft strands at his neck and scratching against his scalp.

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” His voice in your ear makes you shiver and you nod, a breathless please on your lips.

“Good girl.” His kiss is soft against your cheek before he pulls away, his thrusts speeding up, as he grabs your hips, holding them up, giving you no choice but to take him. “Touch yourself,” he demands, the tendons in his neck straining with exertion.

Your fingers are on your clit within moments, rubbing against it, slick with your arousal. The coil inside you tightens again, desperate for release once more.

“Give it to me princess, come on.” His voice sounds wrecked, and it’s the thing that makes you leap over the edge a second time, stars exploding behind your eyelids as you pulse around him, pure pleasure soaring through you.

He comes to a stuttering halt, hips pressed flush against yours, and his groans are almost enough to make you want to come again. He falls forward, forehead pressed against yours, and you share a lazy smile.

You think that he really is the most beautiful person that you’ve ever met.

You fell asleep curled against him, your head resting on his chest and soaking up his warmth, with his arm around your shoulder, but when you blink awake to soft morning light falling through your curtains, you are alone. You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You’ve seen him at the club, he’s probably in a different bed almost every night, you shouldn’t be surprised that he snuck out of yours in the morning. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be disappointed.

You get up with a sigh, pulling a t-shirt over your head and padding down the hall to the kitchen. You come to an abrupt halt in the doorway, met with a sight that you hadn’t expected. He’s standing in front of your open fridge, the expanse of his back bare and turned towards you. There’s a swoop of excitement in your stomach.

You exhale loudly and he turns towards you, an easy smile on his lips. “Good morning.” His voice sounds raspier, still thick with sleep.

“Hey,” you say, returning his smile. He closes the distance between you and cups your face, the sensation of his thumb against your cheek already a familiar one. His lips find yours and you get lost in the feeling of it, in the fantasy of this being your every morning, in pretending that he’s yours.

When he pulls away, the words are out of your mouth before your mind is able to catch up.

“I think I really like you.”

You want to bite your tongue immediately, to take them back. Too early, the voice in your head screams. Your eyes widen as you search for something else to say, but he doesn’t waver, still regarding you with that relaxed smile on his handsome face.

“Is– is it okay that I said that?”

He hums, his large hand still on your cheek.

“I think I really like you too.”

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #pedro pascal #game of thrones #oberyn martell fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: delicate

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momodita · 2 months

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snapshots. [—chilchuck tims]

TAGS / WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, modern au, minor pining, background marcille/falin WC: 1,000 NOTE: divorced father of 3 save me... save me divorced father of 3...

✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS DNI.

“Move over.”

Chilchuck’s voice startles you. The bowl in his hands is steaming: a hearty stew made with Falin and Marcille’s collective effort—(“Senshi’s tried and true recipe!”). A thick slice of bread perches on its rim. It smells just as heavenly as it did at dinner.

“Here?” you ask, stupefied. The armchair you’ve claimed is wide; there’s easily enough space to fit a Chilchuck-sized person, but your mind jumps—unbidden—to the reason he’d been late in the first place.

“Where else?” He nudges you with his knee. “As if I’m gonna sit near that love-fest over there.”

“You’re not welcome anyways,” Marcille tuts, midway through dipping the maraschino cherry from her sundae into Falin’s mouth.

“This is my apartment!”

You concede with a laugh: it’s just your bruised heart working overtime. The moment his body settles, shoulders touching, you stop being able to taste the ice cream Laios had scooped into your bowl. Existence narrowing to that point of contact with a familiar little rush.

It’s Laios’ turn to choose tonight’s movie, much to Marcille’s dismay—(“A documentary classifies! This is a really interesting one!”)—and he scrolls to find it as Chilchuck digs into his food.

Midway through, you engage him in a thrilling mock-battle of fencing spoons. Falin dozes, lulled from the careful stroke of Marcille’s fingers through her hair. By the time the credits roll, they’re folded onto each other, soft snores drowned out by music.

“They fell asleep again,” Chilchuck drawls, chin cushioned against his hand.

“Must be crashing after all that sugar,” Laios suggests, drapes a blanket over them.

“They were pretty high energy tonight. Eager to hear about how Chilchuck’s date went, I guess,” you tease, taking up the mantle with Marcille fast asleep. “You didn’t even tell us her name.” Keeping the tone casual despite the haunting little pit in your stomach.

(It’d been a shock to hear about it: for as long as you’ve known him, Chilchuck has been eager to keep his life private—even from long-time friends. And there’d been no signs of anyone—except you and your little group—coveting his time and attention; no extra, unexplained toothbrushes, no brands you don’t recognize in his pantry, no missed get-togethers.)

“Huh?” He gives you a look, confusion twisted in his features. The TV’s light illuminates a silver hair. “I wasn’t with any girl.”

Your brow furrows. “…His name? Their name?”

Chilchuck stares. This close—where the minuscule twitches in his expression are noticeable—it’s strangely evaluating.

“You know Marcille was joking when she said it was a date, right?” Heat sears along your cheekbones; embarrassment flushing hot under his gaze—the realization of your mistake.

“Of course I knew,” you say stupidly. Chilchuck’s eyebrow quirks. “Shut up. Don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, then if it wasn’t a date, who were you with?”

“Senshi,” he says. “He was—we, uh,” his eyes slide off to the side, “I asked him for a favor.”

“Oh?” you hum, relief and mirth creating a warm hum behind your ribs. “Looking to get a side hustle as a cook?”

“Not even close,” he grunts, looking away.

“Should we start calling you our little master chef?” You nudge him with a grin.

“Chilchuck is already quite good at cooking,” Laios pipes up without taking his eyes off the screen. “Maybe he’ll learn to make something else after mastering ramen.”

“Hey—”

“Ramen?” you ask, head tilting. “Like, the instant kind?”

Chilchuck splutters. “No!”

“From scratch!” Laios beams. “Senshi’s said he’s been making really good progress since his first day.”

“Oh?” you grin. “Our little master chef is gonna open a ramen shop?”

“Shut up. No way. Not ever,” Chilchuck grumbles, the high curve of his ear a soft pink.

“I hope you’ll make it for us one day—I love ramen,” you say. “Very tedious, though, so I’ve never done it myself.”

His face scrunches, mouth pursing together like he wants to speak, but doesn’t. His cheeks puff with air, releasing as a long, quiet sigh.

“Oh, hey, so after ramen”—you lean a hand on the chair’s opposite arm, boxing him in with a cheeky little smile—“you should look into French onion soup. It’s probably easier than ramen but caramelizing the onions takes so long—”

“You—!” he leans back, shoulders tense and eyes wide. “Don’t go making requests before I’ve even cooked anything decent.”

“Why not? I bet it’ll be great! You’re good with your hands, so soup is probably a piece of cake for you.” You watch—with no small amount of pleasure—as Chilchuck’s face flushes with vivid color.

“Get away from me,” he mumbles, but his tone is so insincere all you do is laugh. He knocks a loose fist against the inside of your elbow. A surprised noise jumps out; you retreat back against the chair, rubbing the spot.

“Mmh?” Marcille rouses with a sleepy hum. “What’re you requestin’?”

“Chilchuck is making us ramen,” you joke, relishing the way he knocks an admonishing leg against yours. “He’s our little master chef.”

“Oh, yeah. Did Laios end up spilling the beans?” Marcille yawns. Falin stirs, eyes fluttering. “Congratulations, you two.”

Chilchuck goes stiff beside you. “What do you mean?” you ask.

Marcille pauses, head tilting with a drowsy look of confusion. “Huh? Didn’t you ask why he’s learning to make it?” she asks. Falin tugs her sleeve.

You blink. “No. Should I have?” Marcille doesn’t respond right away, head bent to put an ear by Falin’s mouth, expression pinched as they whisper. Then, with a sigh, she reaches up to stretch.

“No. Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Laios is quick to grab her attention.

“Hey, so are you actually opening a ramen shop?” you whisper to Chilchuck.

“You’re such an airhead,” he grunts against his palm.

“I’m great,” you reply. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze. When next he speaks, his voice is soft—acquiescing easily to your jest.

“Guess you are.”

#chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #dungeon meshi fic #dungeon meshi x reader #snapshot fic #reader insert #food as a love language from me wow how new and exciting #momodita fic

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xhoneygirlxx · 8 months

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In My Feels

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Steve’s heart now belongs to the pretty woman who always comes in with her two adorable kids. When he finally decides to make a move, he’s shocked to find out she’s not their mom.

warnings: fluff. Barista!Steve. Reader and Steve are both in their 20’s. Nanny!Reader. Modern!au. Readers ethnicity/skin tone is not mentioned. Pictures above are used for aesthetic purposes only. Shitty writing/grammar errors, not proofread.

*if I miss anything please let me know.

a/n: day two of my birthday bash has finally arrived!! I’m so grateful for the amount of love and support you guys have given me. Although this is my birthday week, I wanted to spend it with you guys and give us both something we can enjoy :) I love every single one of you guys and I hope you like this!

Now I’m in my feels

Way up in the clouds somewhere now

Don’t know what’s real

Working at the Java Cup, Steve dealt with a lot of different people. Tired students, doctors and nurses coming and going from shifts, and everyone in between. During the six months of his employment there only one customer seemed to catch his attention, you.

From the moment you walked in he knew he was fucked. With one kid on your hip and the other in the stroller, you already had him in the palm of your hand. No matter what, rain or shine, you and your two kids always came in with bright smiles. Although a lot of your interactions were small talk or your older son trying to, his heart infatuation for you every single time.

You were so fucking beautiful and Steve was nothing but a fool for you. So many times he would go home and just pray that you weren’t taken, that maybe somewhere written in the stars there was a chance for him.

Steve wanted to ask you out but every single time he chickened out, throwing out multiple cup sleeves that had horrible puns written on them in the process. Ever since getting broken up with by Nancy, his self esteem and confidence dropped. No matter how many times his best friend and coworker, Robin, tried to talk some sense into him, he just couldn’t do it.

It was comical watching him stutter and blush scarlet every time you would speak, tripping over his words like it was his first time ever talking. Because he was so smitten with you, his insecurities grew and poking fun at him any time he would think about possibly asking you out.

Here you were, a pretty mom with two adorable kids that he adored, so sweet and kind to him, and so far out of his league. There was no pot at the end of this rainbow for Steve, but he continued to chase it in hopes that maybe, just maybe he was wrong.

Now it's been six months and Steve has run out of steam, his legs growing tired and his lungs burning with exhaustion with how long he's been running. So, he's decided that it's time to give up on his mission to of getting to the finish line.

There was no point to continue trying, not when you're probably more than happy with the father of your children, going home to your white picket fence and happy home. So he pulled back, watched from behind the counter, and continued to daydream about the life he's always wanted.

“You know you could just go talk to her, right?” Robin’s voice is louder than she thinks, the low music and hum of the espresso machine doing little to cover it up.

“Say it louder, why don’t you.” Rolling his eyes, Steve continues to wipe down the counter that he’s been working on for the past ten minutes.

“I’m just sayin’, it’s kind of pathetic and creepy that you’re always staring.” Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, the brunette girl runs her hands down her black apron. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“What’s the worst-” Turning on his heel quickly, Steve stares at his best friend with wide eyes, “Robin, there is a laundry list of things that could go wrong.”

“Yeah? Try me.” Crossing her ankle over the other, Robin leans on the sink with a waiting look.

“Firstly, she could be married,” Steve starts counting on his finger.

“No ring on her finger.” Robin counters.

“Well she’s a mom with two kids, I doubt she has time for a twenty something, no good, barista that barely has his life together.”

“EEEEEEEE WRONG,” She makes a loud buzzer noise, “One you aren’t no good, you’re actually a really great person who needs to see just how amazing he is. Two, you may be a barista who can barely keep his life together but, you’re reliable and take care of yourself, not to mention you have your own car and place, more than other twenty somethings. And lastly, you’re also a mother to a group of teenagers, so it works perfectly.”

Dropping his hands down to his sides, Steve lets the words settle into his heart. He was a good person, he did have a good impression with the gaggle of kids he sometimes watches, and he did have some of his life together.

“Okay well, she could reject me and I will not only lose more of my confidence but I’ll also lose my favorite customer.” Sighing in defeat, he whips the rag that still sits in his hand over his shoulder. "Either way, I gave up on that dream a long time ago."

Robin shakes her head, stepping forward to the boy she calls her best friend and shakes him by the shoulders. “You are Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington! There was a reason everyone called you king Steve and it wasn’t just because you were a huge dick.”

“Hey!!” Steve raises his voice in defeat and she waves him off continuing her peptalk.

“Listen, I know that lady killer is somewhere in there,” She pokes at his chest, “So you’re gonna put your big boy panties on, walk up to her and ask her out! I’m sick and tired of watching you look all sad and depressing, so you’re going to do as I say or I’ll do it for you.” Smiling brightly at him, the girl taps him lovingly on the shoulder.

Robin may be a lot of things, including annoying, but a liar is not one of them. Steve knows that she will one hundred percent walk up to you, throw him under the bus, with a mega-watt smile as she does it.

Watching his friend walk around the counter with a broom and dust pan in hand, her head turns to wear your sat at a table by the front window, talking to your older son, rocking your baby in the stroller with your foot. Turning her attention back to Steve, she smiles wickedly and turns slightly like she’s heading your way. Anxiety rises in the back of his throat, heartbeat picking up and banging hard in his chest.

“Fine, I’m going just- fuck off.” It comes out through gritted teeth. Running a shaking hand down the front of his apron, Steve rounds the counter muttering something under his breath.

As he walks to the table, Robin gives him two thumbs up and an exaggerated smile to which he replies by simply throwing a middle finger up at her.

As he steps closer to your table the thought of turning back around and hiding in the back room comes into mind.

There’s no pot of gold here, only gray clouds and roaring thunder. He can turn back now and continue his sorrowful journey of pining.

But then he looks at you, smiling and laughing at something the young boy next to you said, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. What a beautiful way to die, Steve thinks. The thunder and lightning is all worth it when he gets to see you as he takes his final breaths.

“H-hey,” His voice is wobbly, nervousness clearly showing as he speaks.

“Hi Steve.” Your eyes meet his, saccharine smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Hi steeb!” The young boy next to you waves while clutching a red crayon in his tiny hand.

“Hi Aidan. How are you little man?” Steve seems to loosen up a bit, the presence of your son lets him exhale just slightly.

“M’colorin a pixture.” The small boy’s tongue pokes between his lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he draws what looks like a demented stick figure.

“It looks good, little dude.” Steve encourages, cooing sweetly at him.

“Fanks.” Still focusing on his picture, the smaller boy grabs a different crayon from the box that sits on the table.

“What’s up, Steve?” You ask, still rocking the stroller back and forth with your tennis shoe covered foot.

“Oh-h yeah, um I was just gonna ask, ah what you were doing.” Just like a switch, he’s back to being a fumbling doofus.

You giggle at him and he feels his cheeks tingle with heat. Looking between the two kids, you look back up to the older man in front of you.

“Well, I’m enjoying a coffee while Aidan colors and Bella naps peacefully.” You nod your head slowly, eyeing the barista questioningly.

Steve wants to slap a hand on his forehead, embarrassed by the fact he can’t even formulate one sentence.

“Yeah, no I see that. Seems fun, I mean not fun but like ya know, seems-“ His stammering is cut off by your soft voice.

“Are you okay? You seem really nervous.” Your eyebrows are pinched together, worry painted on your features.

“Me? I’m great, fantastic!” It comes enthusiastic and way louder than he intended, so loud that Robin hears and instantly facepalms.

“Well, that’s great Steve.” You’re still eyeing him suspiciously and he really wants to jump ship.

“I’m just gonna go and do my ugh, my stuff.” Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, spinning on the ball of his feet leaving before he can say anything else embarrassing.

No, he can’t leave now, not when he’s made it this close to the finish line. This is what he’s been waiting for, the treasure he’s been searching for. It’s no or never and he can’t go back to praying the same prayer that somewhere in this universe you two were destined to be.

With a new found confidence, he turns right back into the eye of the storm and faces it head strong.

“Actually, I came over here because I wanted to know if maybe you’d like to go out sometime.” His chest is puffed out like, more sure of himself than he’s ever been.

The confidence that’s surging through him starts to falter when he reads your expression. You, and Aidan who has now stopped coloring, stare at him with bugged out eyes and gaping mouths.

“Only if that’s okay with you and all. If you want you can bring the kids along and we can go get ice cream and stuff but if you need it I have some friends who are great with kids and who will be willing to babysit for you.” He’s back peddling, trying to give you a way out in case you want to reject him it won’t hurt so bad.

“Oh Steve,” it’s said with pity and he knows the lighting strike is about to hit, “I-I’m not their mom.”

“Yeah no I get it, sorry if I- wait..” Stopping in his tracks, he looks back and forth between you and the small boy, connecting the dots in his head. “You’re not their mom?”

You and Aidan share a look before giggling together. Gazing back up at the flustered man in front of you, you smile kindly at him.

“No, I’m their nanny, Steve. Although I love them like they’re my own, they’re not.”

“Oh.” Steve continues to stare at you, his pretty pink lips in the shape of an O.

“Yeah, I just watch these little guys.” You shrug your shoulders.

“That’s still cool, I mean the offer still stands.” Even though he’s confused, his voice is a little shaky when he asks.

“Do the kids still have to come?” You ask and Aidan shouts an offended “hey”.

“I mean they can if you want, it’s all up to you.” He eyes you, waiting for your reaction but your expression doesn’t give him much to go on.

“Hmmm, I’m going to have to ask my trusted right hand man.” Holding a finger up at him, you leave over to the smaller boy next to you.

Aidan covers you hear with a small hand trying to cover the movements of his lips, even though Steve can still his his muffled whispers from where he stands.

Shaking your head, you repeat back uh huh’s to him, taking everything that’s being said seriously.

Moving back to your upright position, you stare at Steve with a serious gaze.

“Well, my counsel says I should go but you have to buy me ice cream. No buts about it.” Your straight face begins to falter when Steve’s white teeth shine at you.

“Yeah, I’ll get you whatever ice cream you want.” Steve bobs his head, cheeks flaring pink and eyes shining brightly.

“You can’t kiss, only mommies and daddies do dat stuff.” Aidan pipes in and Steve can’t help but chuckle with how the little boys face is scrunched up with intensity.

“Yes sir.” Steve gives the little boy a solute, while sending you a sneaky wink, and the kid quickly accepts.

“So, I’ll text you?” Steve asks

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth as you say it.

“Okay, cool cool. I’ll ah, see you later.” Steve nods his head, backing away from the table slowly.

Sprinting to the backroom, he sees Robin who pretends like she hasn’t been listening in.

“Robs, I fucking did it!” Steve whisper yells, still cautious knowing your still out there.

“I honestly thought you were gonna back out for a second! I’m so proud of you for hanging in there!”

The two of them start hopping around like jumping beans, beaming so brightly they can outshine any star in the sky.

“So you got her number?” Robin asks, heavily breathing from all their excitement.

“Fuck-“ stopping dead in his tracks, Steve bolts to the door and back out to the front.

That’s where he finds you’ve already left and he’s heartbroken. The only memory that you were even there is your lingering perfume that sticks to the air.

You’ll probably be back some time soon but he’s still a little let down knowing he didn’t fully seal the deal. Looking closely at the table, he notices Aidan left one of his drawings.

Picking up the paper, he looks at it closely realizing Aidan didn’t leave it, you did.

Steve,

You left before I could give you my number. I didn’t want to disrupt your little party or anything.

Can’t wait to get that ice cream.

-your favorite customer

683-027-9305

Folding up the paper, Steve sticks it in the pocket of his apron.

“Don’t worry Steve, she’ll be back.” Robin calls out from behind the counter, apparently not seeing the little not that was left.

“I know she will.” It’s said quietly but the smile on his lips isn’t.

It’s beautiful on this side of the rainbow, Steve thinks, the pot of gold was so worth all the work. Robin was right, he still had it.

Thank you all for joining me on this second day of my celebration!!! I hope you all enjoy!! Love you all ❤️

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington friends to lovers #modern!steve harrington

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spookysteddie · 4 months

Text

That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it.

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees.

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted.

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous.

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!”

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?”

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.”

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers.

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.”

…

You should’ve changed your mind.

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you.

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time.

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face.

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands.

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long.

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it.

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-”

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.”

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!”

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels.

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?”

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus.

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus.

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually.

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts.

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that. The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs.

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.”

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you.

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.”

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?”

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was.

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.”

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?”

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen.

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke.

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again.

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet.

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening.

Photos are fine.

Everyone must be tagged.

Nothing negative.

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar.

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines.

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?”

You nod, “y-yeah of course.”

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over.

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer.

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.”

…

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more.

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason.

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.”

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something?

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes.

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there!

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.”

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured.

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.”

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not?

“‘Precious babies?’”

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.”

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne.

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him.

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan.

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.”

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.”

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close.

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.”

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?”

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.”

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?”

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.”

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent.

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…”

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?”

So, you do.

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name.

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times.

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos.

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music.

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.”

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care.

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back.

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him.

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him.

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.”

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.”

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you.

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes.

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.”

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?”

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.”

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top.

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you.

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right?

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center.

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone.

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid.

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.”

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.”

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans.

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No.

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.” He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers.

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?”

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous.

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.”

“V-very.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!”

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.”

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.”

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully.

“Fuck, Eddie.”

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.”

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft”

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it.

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.”

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?”

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.”

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.”

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?”

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it.

“Oh god! Please.”

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.”

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down.

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.”

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’

“And now… we wait.”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

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sunarc · 7 months

Text

After Hours

𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖊 1

toji x reader

Synopsis: What happens when you meet someone willing to make all you naughty dreams come true?

CW: virginity loss, corruption kink, size kink, alcohol consumption, shy reader, toji is a player, cum eating, Shiu is being a daddy in this per usual, modern au, afab reader, bar owner toji, 5.1k words, please let me know if i missed anything

A/N:I’m so happy to present day 1 of Kinktober!!! I’m so excited for y’all to read please enjoy!

You sipped your drink to the sound of rock music playing loudly from the speakers. You watched as hot sweaty bodies crowded around a pool table swinging money in the air while yelling out bets. The bar was lively, it was loud and there you sat, quietly at the end of the bar, watching everyone, enjoying the show. The bar had people from all walks of life come through. Some would come through and tell you stories you could never imagine, some telling you of where they were headed and some just a little sleezy looking for a quick fuck. You were never the type for hookups. You honestly couldn’t imagine being with a random stranger for one fun night. You enjoyed being in this space. It was fun to see so many different people and get to experience another’s life just for a few minutes.

“I can’t possibly imagine doing something so scary like that” you said, shocked listening to the story being told by the big figure sitting in front of you smoking a cigarette.

“You wouldn’t believe all of the crazy things I’ve done sweetheart” he pulled a long drag from his cigarette then turned to you.

“You got any stories?” he asked

“Who? Me? I- uh no I don’t really do much” you fumbled over your words suddenly becoming nervous by the question.

It was true, you didn’t really do much. You were honestly as innocent as they come. You didn’t drink, not because you thought it was bad but more so because the taste of alcohol was quite repulsive. You had never had a boyfriend before, hell you had never engaged in sex before. You just never found someone worth giving yourself away to. The idea was honestly scary. Having to get naked and show your body to another person was honestly scary yet something about it felt so intriguing. Something about sleeping with someone and having them take you in ways you wouldn’t dare speak about out loud was almost thrilling. You shook the thought away.

“I really mostly like to just hear about other people’s stories, I find them fascinating really.” You said, giving a shy smile.

He nodded his head silently taking in your words.

“Hm, I guess I could understand” he took a drag finishing his cigarette. “But what about living?”

You gave a confused look.

Living?

“What do you mean, I am living?” the question almost sounded silly

“No, you're listening to other people live. You’re basically living vicariously through other people.” He scoffed. “Why not enjoy the thrills of life yourself instead of hearing it from other people?”

The question left you speechless. You sat staring at the man's mouth slightly open unsure of what to say.

Why weren’t you living?

You went to work and came to this hole in the wall bar every night just to listen to stories and drink juice. When were you going to be the one telling the stories?

“You bothering my customers Shiu?” a loud voice interrupted your thoughts.

Toji, the bar owner, walked over to the two of you cleaning a glass with a smirk.

“Bothering? I could never. I think that might be your job.” he chuckled.

“How you doing pretty? Need another drink?” Toji asked, looking down at your almost empty glass.

“Hi Toji, I’m well today. I’d love another juice thankyou” you said smiling softly.

Ever since you first walked into the bar Toji had been as kind as ever. His smile was always inviting. He was tall, buff and handsome. He always left you feeling starstruck as he moved behind the counter muscles flexing in his tight shirt smiling handsomely at customers as they handed him large tips. He always gave you free drinks mostly because you only ordered juice. He was even nice enough to let you stay after closing and keep him company while he cleaned and told you stories of before he owned the bar.

“Your friend wasn’t bothering me” you said as he handed you a full glass. “I was probably bothering him,” you laughed.

Toji smiled and leaned forward on his elbows.

“I’m sure a pretty girl like you could never bother anyone.”

You looked down smiling at the remark. Toji was a big flirt with everyone. If a pretty girl walked in and looked like she had big pockets he would somehow always flirt his way into an unusually large tip.

“I was just offering a little advice,” Shiu said as he pulled out another cigarette, putting it between his lips.

“Last time you gave someone advice they died” Toji commented as he fixed a drink for a regular.

“They took it a little too literally, that isn’t my fault” he lit the cigarette pulling a long drag.

The two bantered back and forth arguing over his advice.

“He actually told me something really helpful” You interrupted.

“Oh yeah and what was it exactly?” Toji leaned over the counter dangerously close to you. He bit his lip as he stared at you waiting for you to answer. You shied away suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze.

“I- well it was just about me living life that’s all” you stumbled over your words.

Toji smirked at you

“Now why would he say such a thing doll?” he seemed intrigued as he sat up and poured a shot for himself and Shui.

“I guess , well , I’m just not living out my fantasies…” your voice died out towards the end of your sentence.

“Not living out your fantasies?” Toji rested his head in his hand with a smirk playing on his face.

“Tell me more about that” his voice was low as he asked for more. You sat in front of him watching his movements almost hypnotized by the way he spoke so smoothly. Toji was an intimidating guy. No matter how many nights you spent sitting chatting with him about any and everything you never failed to grow nervous under his dark gaze.

“I uh I shouldn’t talk too much about it” you let out a nervous chuckle.

Toji sat up letting out a small sigh.

“All right then, keep your secrets,” he laughed.

You gave a shy smile before sipping your drink. It would have been hard to admit in front of two obviously attractive men that you fantasized about losing your virginity. The topic seemed so taboo. You could imagine them pushing for more details. Why hadn’t you lost your virginity? What are you waiting for? Are you some kind of saint, too good for sex?None of the above. The right person just hasn’t come along yet, someone to send chills through your body just from their voice. You wanted someone who would make you feel something, someone worth it. You sat in silence stuck on the previous conversation. You hadn’t noticed the bar slowly emptying out. Drunk bodies stumbled out slurring words as they called their rides.

“You sticking with me, pretty girl?” Toji’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

You nodded your head with a small smile, it wouldn’t hurt having another late night conversation with Toji while he closed.You looked around noticing Shui pulling out his last cigarette before throwing back the rest of his drink.

“I’m leaving you, two have a good night” he turned to you “I meant what I said live a little, kid”

“Hey what about me Shiu got any advice for me ?” he teased

Shiu walked to the door before turning around

“Hm, actually yes, go to hell” he smirked and left without another word.

Toji scuffed as he wiped down the counter.

“Asshole,” he mumbled.

You laughed at the encounter and looked around at the now empty bar. It was nice to look at apart from the scattered beer and glasses. The bar had nice decor, it was one of the main factors that attracted you to the place.

“So any new stories for me?” you asked, watching as Toji came from behind the counter with a broom sweeping the place.

“You like my stories that much?” he asked, half his attention on you, half on cleaning.

“You spun around on the bar stool laughing to yourself at the childish action.

“I think you have fun things to say” you thinking to yourself for a moment “And well I guess I really like your voice” you mumbled the last part.

Toji chuckled, stopping his actions. He looked at you with a smirk.

“You like my voice huh?”

You looked away suddenly embarrassed by your confession.

“I mean well you- it” you stammered

“It’s okay doll” Toji walked closer to you lowering his voice in the process.

“I could talk all you want” he said “ But I’d more so like to hear something about you” he said as he came close standing between your legs as you sat facing him on the stool.

“Something about me?” you asked slightly confused.

“Yeah, I mean you sit with me while I clean all the time and you listen to me go on and on about stories for days yet, you never talk to me about yourself.” he said leaning closer to you.

Your breath hitched feeling the heat from his body as he closed the space between you two.

“For example I’d love to continue that conversation from earlier, you know the one about those fantasies of yours.”

He leaned down eye level to you just a breath away. His lips were only inches away from yours. You wanted to lean in just to see how soft his lips would be. Would he taste like alcohol or something sweeter? How soft would his lips be? You leaned into him only for him to reach behind you picking up the spray bottle and rag. He walked away with a smirk and began wiping down tables.

“Talk to me doll” he said “ I mean I’ve told you so many things before it's only fair you tell me a secret or two” his voice was sensual. It sent tingles through your body to your core. You crossed your legs squeezing tight at the sound.

“Well” you said contemplating if you should speak your thoughts.

Toji stopped his cleaning to look at you

“It's just us two here, you can tell me anything” he said softly.

You looked around as if you’d somehow find someone sitting in the corner listening in. To no surprise the room was empty apart from Toji’s large muscular body standing a few feet away from you.

“I guess I just fantasize about losing my virginity,” you said, voice fading away.

You felt embarrassed at your confession. You wanted to hide away. Lose your virgin, what a foolish fantasy. Why not something like travel the world or start a business, that’s a real fantasy but no there you sat legs crossed squeezed searching for friction. “I mean- well there's more but I well” your words seemed to scramble as you spoke. Toji stood in front of you smiling at your truth.

“I think that’s a cute fantasy.” he said

He leaned against the table and folded his arm.

“I’d love to hear more about this…” he bowed his head, hiding his smile, “fantasy,” he said finishing his sentence.

“What? More?” you almost yelled shocked by his words

He licked his lips while making eye contact.

“Yeah” he repeated “More”

He got up from the table and began to roam around the room with a sigh.

“I mean there’s gotta be something more to this little fantasy of yours”

He walked over to you fiddling with the edge of your skirt. His fingers brushed against your skin making you feel hot all over.

“What is it, do you have some fantasy of getting tied up for your first time?”

His fingers danced across your skin. He looked down concentrated on his hand movements.

“Or do you just want a nice big cock to stretch you out?”

His words went straight to your core. You were too shocked by the vulgarity of it all to say anything. No one had ever spoken to you like that before. No one’s words had ever made you throb the way his did.He chuckled at your silence. Toji stepped away and went back to cleaning. You almost had the urge to snatch his arm and drag him back to you. You could never see yourself being that brave though.

“Well what about you?” you muttered too shy to speak up.

“Hm? Me?” he asked looking up from his task.

“Oh well I’ve got a few fantasies I guess” He stood with a concentrated look thinking about his own fantasies.

Your mind was running a relay race imagining the lewd words that could possibly come from him. At the same time you wondered what he could possibly fantasize about? What had he not done? You leaned forward intrigued with what he would say.

“Tell me,” you said, eyes wide with interest.

He laughed at your eagerness

“You really wanna know?” he asked, leaning against the table.

You nodded your head, excitement coursing through you.

“I do,” you said in a hushed voice.

Toji walked to you leaving his rag behind. His footsteps seemed so loud in the empty room. He filled up so much space with confidence alone.

“I guess I have that same fantasy”

His finger traced your jawline while his eyes stared deep into yours.

“I’ve been thinking about it alot lately,” he said as he licked his lips. “I can't stop thinking about how good it would feel stretching out a fresh virgin hole. The thought of making someone so innocent beg for my cock while I fuck them dumb” his bit his lip and looked down towards your plump ones “That shit just drives me crazy doll”

Your breath hitched as he spoke. You couldn’t help the throbbing that went to your core. The thought of having someone like Toji give you everything you ever desired sent shivers through you. You knew he’d make you feel better than any toy you had could ever make you feel. The way his lips looked so wet and soft, the way his muscles strained against his shirt, how he always smelled good always made your heart beat so hard you were sure he could hear. You sat starstruck, unable to form the words you wanted to say. Hell, you didn’t even know what to say. Would you beg him to fuck you, to take your virginity right then and there? Would you tell him that's nice and try to change the subject? No you had to take chances,

Live a little kid

You heard Shiu’s words replay in your mind like a record.

Now was the time to live a little.

“You got something on your mind?” Toji asked as if he was just waiting for you to say the word.

“I can help” the words flew out your mouth at the speed of light.

You wanted to hide away after hearing yourself. Help what? Clean? You couldn't pull yourself together.

Toji hummed satisfied with your answer.

“You want to help?” he asked “Are you asking me to bend you over and fuck you in this bar?”

He leaned in to whisper the words in your ear. Hearing him say it out loud almost felt wrong.

“I do- I mean I am- wait I mean” you fumbled over your words too overcome with embarrassment to function.

Toji’s laughter caught you off guard. He grabbed you by the jaw and pulled you in for a kiss. The kiss was wet. He tasted so sweet even though he had been drinking. His lips were soft. So soft you felt yourself melting into him. Your hands gripped the side of the stool almost tearing at the leather. Toji’s hand moved down to your neck pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. His kiss was delicate yet was filled with hunger. His fingers danced up your skirt feeling the heat between your legs.

“No panties huh, you’re not as innocent as i thought” he smiled as he inched his fingers closer to your core feeling the way you were practically leaking.

“This can’t possibly be your first go around. You come in wearing these short skirts” he pressed a kiss to your neck and licked a long strip up to your jaw.

“You're wearing nothing underneath. I bet you were just begging for someone like me to peek and see that pretty little pussy dripping all over my seats.”

You were left in a daze from his fingers just barely brushing against where you needed him most to how he sucked your neck leaving your skin feeling raw. His scent filled your every waking being. He was all that you could feel, see, touch, smell. It was almost as if he had become the only person left in the world and all that you wanted was for him to touch you; to touch you in ways no one had ever done before. You needed him. Your mind was desperately pleading for him to slip his fingers inside of you, to feel your gummy walls and finally give you the pleasure that you were desperately clinging onto him for.

“Please touch me” you whimpered out.

Your voice felt so weak. You were so needy for him, your fingers dug into his arm pulling him closer.

“Such a needy little thing” he chuckled

His fingers moved along your legs teasing you with every touch.

“I need more than that love. Where do you need me” he voiced with his head still in the crook of your neck sucking and licking at your skin.

You grabbed his hand, dragging it up your thigh to place it between your folds. Words seemed to fail you so taking action was your only choice.

“Here”

Toji smiled at your courage. His fingers maneuvered up and down your core feeling how wet you were. He rubbed soothing circles onto the bundle of nerves earning him a soft moan from you.

“Have you ever been stuffed with someone’s fingers?” he asked in a low voice

You shook your head while meeting his eyes.Toji free hand grabbed your jaw.

“Words Princess”

“No,” you whimpered.

Your answer seemed to have a strong effect on him. The thought of watching your innocence slip away from you at his hand was enough to have his cock straining against his pants.

“I’m gonna put a finger in and I’ll let you know each time I do just so you don’t get all shy on me when your pussy’s sucking my fingers in” he smiled.

His thumb kept a steady pace rubbing quick circles while he slipped his first finger into your hole.

“That’s it” he said, rocking his finger in and out of your eyes watching the way your mouth widened to an ‘o’ shape while moans spilled past your lips.

“You like that?” He placed a wet kiss on your lips.”Pussy feels so tight baby, I wonder how you’re gonna take my cock”

You let out a whine while your hips grinded down onto his hand.

“More please, I need more”

Toji’s eyes lit up at your words.

“Oh? My nasty girl wants more huh” He smirked “I’m putting in a second finger now dirty girl, I’ll give you what you want”

His second finger slipped in with ease. A gasp escaped your lips as he filled you up groaning at the way your hole squeezed around his fingers.

“So wet for me doll.” His breath ghosted against your lips as his fingers continued to fuck in and out of you making a mess below you. You let out weak moans and gasp. This feeling of his fingers massaging your gummy walls was something you had never experienced before. You felt the world revolving around you. Your heart was racing in your chest. Everything seemed so loud at that moment. The way his breaths sounded sharp as his fingers picked up speed. The drips of water from the sink he had left running after washing dishes, The cars speeding by not noticing how you were falling apart giving yourself away to him. If a car were to slow down just for a few seconds it would have been so easy to just peek into the window to see how your legs were spread open. Your hips were grinding down onto him. It would have been so easy just to see how much of a mess you were making for his fingers. That seemed to send a thrill through you, having some unknown stranger turn their head and watch you lose your virginity and take a cock for the first time.

“God, it feels so good” you let out a loud gasp unable to contain yourself.

The feeling of him dipping his fingers into you was so overwhelming you thought you might lose your mind. You had never touched yourself like this before. You always stayed away from fucking your self with you fingers to afraid to stick a finger in always preferring to massage your clit. Little did you know the desire and pleasure that would come with having someone shove their fingers deep into you, you were practically drooling from the feeling. You felt a pit forming in your stomach the feeling so foreign all you could do was moan and curse about how good he felt.

“Come on doll” Toji rasped out “ Give it to me, make me proud, show me how pretty you look making a mess on my fingers.”

His words were enough to send you spiraling. You let out loud unfiltered moans. This was new, something better than ever. You wanted- no craved more. This feeling of ecstasy felt like a drug taking over you. You let out heavy breathes as you came down from your high.

“Don’t think we’re done just yet doll, I want you to take your first cock” Toji said as he lifted you bringing you to the table he had just wiped down.

He pulled your shirt up exposing your breast and pulled a nipple into his mouth. You let out a long moan feeling his hot tongue swivel around your nipple. His mouth felt so warm. His hand squeezed and massaged your other breast as he let out a groan. He pulled your skirt off and threw it in a nearby corner.

“You won't be needing that” He said as he took your body in.

He pulled his cock free from his pants and your eyes went wide. Not only was he big, he was thick. You sat staring with a slack jaw fearful that his two fingers weren’t enough to make him fit. He stroked his cock as he rubbed circles on your clit.

“Look at what you do to me doll” he said, voice strained. “Got me so fucking hard I can’t wait to make your pussy cream”

He pushed you down so that your back was laying flat against the table. His arms wrapped around your thighs to pull you to the edge of the table. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit sending shivers through your body.

“Look at you, being so good for me, you ready to take your first cock” he licked his lips staring at your glistening cunt “You ready to make a real mess for me baby?”

The tip of his cock prodded at your hole just barely entering.

“It- It’s too big” you whimpered watching as he held his cock rubbing it through your folds.

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll make it fit” he said, eyes never leaving your hole.

He inched his cock into you achingly slowly watching how your pussy sucked him in taking all that he was giving you. Toji’s eyes rolled back, feeling how tight you were squeezing around him. He had known you'd be tight but never did he imagine you’d have him ready to cum just from sinking himself into you. He stilled inside of you just admiring the warmth and tightness of you. He took a deep breath to gather himself.

“Fuck you feel so good” he whispered the words and you almost didnt hear him.

“I’m gonna take it nice and slow for you princess”

He moved his hips in a slow motion watching the way your face moved from being scrunched up in pain to eyes rolling back enjoying the pleasure of being stuffed full.

“You like that shit” he asked as he rolled his hips into you slowly. His cock felt so delicious inside of you. You wanted this feeling forever. He filled you up so perfectly. You couldn’t fathom the idea of having anyone else fill you up like this. The way his hips rolled into yours meeting your hips with a soft slap left you gasping for air.

“Breathe baby breath” he rubbed soothing circles into your hips.

You sucked in a shaky breath not realizing you had been holding your breath focusing solely on the pleasure of him.

“Come on baby let me hear those moans, I want to hear how you sound taking your first cock” he squeezed your hips as he rocked into you. Toji was holding back. He bit his lip trying to contain himself. He didn’t want to destroy you for your first time. It was taking everything in him not to absolutely wreck you. He made a mental note to himself that the next time he stuffed his cock into you, he’d leaving you a drooling fucked out mess but for now he would be content with just watching the way you’d fall apart taking him your first time.

“Tell me how it feels” he leaned down to pepper wet kisses from your collar to your neck. “First time being so full, tell me where you feel me baby talk to me”

You could barely breathe properly and now you were trying to form sentences.

“So good ugh I feel it all in my tummy it's so big” you slurred.

Your moans were so loud any person walking by would have a perfect show to watch. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about any lingering stares that could possibly be watching through the window. Your mind wandered off to thoughts of someone sneaking looks through the window, digging their hand in their pants and getting off to you creaming on your first cock. What a lewd thought. Your whimpers seemed to repeat like a broken record. You couldn’t help but moan and beg him for more.

“Faster please I need more” you whimpered, hardly able to contain yourself as you bucked your hips upwards into him.

“You sure doll, I don't think I’ll be able to stop if I do” his voice was gruff as he fucked you in a slow pace.

“Please” you begged “I need you so bad”

Toji bit his lip. He grabbed your legs pulling them up so your ankles could rest on his shoulder. He rubbed your stomach feeling where his cock was inside of you. His hands massaged your skin as he grabbed your calf kissing your ankle.

“Be a good girl and take everything I give you then, hm?”

His cocked slammed into you at a pace you did not expect. His hips met yours with a loud slap. Toji’s eyes scanned your body watching every movement. Your back arched off the table as you moaned so loud your voice echoed off the walls.

“Look so pretty taking cock” he groaned “ Mean to tell me I’m the first one to get to see you like this”

His thrust were relentless slamming into you “This sight is too pretty to share.” His thumb rubbed circles onto your clit as he rocked his hips into you.

“That’s it taking me so well doll” His words were going straight to your core.

You could barely form sentences, only strained moans and slurred versions of his name. Your body seemed to fall apart for him. The table under you rocked back and forth with his thrust. If you had half a mind you would be worried that it would break but all you could think of was how you were about to cum. You felt a warmth in your stomach as he fucked you.

“Come one Princess I want you to cum with me. I want to see how messy you get for the first time” his words had your eyes rolling back. You felt so weak barely able to do anything but cum on his cock. Your body didn’t feel like yours. You had never came so hard in your life. He was covered in your juices, soaked from all that you had to give him. Toji’s eyes were looking down focused on the way his cum mixed with yours covered his cock. His movements slowed as he fucked the cum inside of you.

“I don’t like being wasteful” he said as two fingers covered in cum moved between your lips. You sucked his fingers obediently without a second thought. You were in such a daze you would have done anything for him.

“You were so good for me” his voice was low as he leaned down placing kisses on your lips.

Toji felt his heart growing warm. He had never felt so soft for someone before.With any other girl who would have already been zipping up his pants and ordering them a ride but for you it felt different. He wanted to fulfill every fantasy you had. He wanted to be the only one watching you cum. It was either him or nothing at all. You were just too perfect to share. From the way your chest moved trying to catch your breath to the way your plump lips sat open wet from drool had his heart feeling like it might beat out of his chest.

“I want to make all those nasty fantasies of yours come true.” He whispered, kissing your skin cock still stuffed inside of you.

“I want to be the only one to get to see you like this”

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1K notes · View notes

sapphire-writes · 11 months

Text

Faking It ~ modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: You and Aemond decide to fake date in order to make your exes jealous.

word count: 4.8k

note: a request fulfilled for the lovely @oneeyedvisenya! Rae, I remember you were one of the first blogs I admired and I remember squealing with joy when you interacted and followed me and now we're bestie ilysm I'll cry rn. I hope you enjoy 🩷

rating: Explicit (see more descriptive warnings under the cut)

warnings: p in v, fingering, titty sucking, choking, degradation, slight praise

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Aegon asks, frowning as you take your shot.

You glare at him before signaling to the bartender you’d like another. You’re going to need a lot of tequila to get through tonight. You’d come to your favorite club after another horrible week. The world just seemed to be against you.

“Don’t say panties to me, you sound like a pervert,” you tell him, causing Aegon to chuckle.

“Your undergarments then,” Aegon decides, bumping his shoulder against yours, “your lingerie.”

“That’s even worse,” you tell him, sucking the juice from your lime.

“It can’t be Qyle again, please,” Aegon says groaning.

You bite your lip. You hadn’t expected to see your ex-boyfriend out, he always used to tell you he hated going to bars or clubs. Yet, here he was with his mates for a night on the town, effectively ruining yours.

“You need to get laid, I’m saying that as your friend,” Aegon tells you, clasping a hand on your shoulder.

“Very funny,” you tell him.

“I’m serious. I’m always down if you need a body, just as friends,” he teases.

You’ve hooked up with Aegon before. A long time ago in the grand scheme of things. You’ve always been better as best friends. You’d been nearly inseparable since your days at university.

“You’re too kind,” you tell him, scrunching your nose at the offer.

“You’re a great shag,” he continues.

Aegon furrows his brow suddenly, placing a hand under his chin as though he’s lost in thought.

“I still don’t know how you get your leg-”

“Aegon!” you say, putting your hand over his mouth to stop him from continuing.

Aemond saddles up on the other side of Aegon, trying to get the bartender’s attention. He barely pays him any mind as he places another shot in front of you before moving to the other side of the bar to attend to other patrons. Aemond sighs, a low growl releasing from deep within his chest.

Aegon’s frown deepens at his brother’s appearance.

“What’s your problem?” he asks his brother.

The bartender returns for Aemond’s order before dashing away to retrieve your shot.

“Nothing,” Aemond says, though his sulking says otherwise.

As the bartender returns with Aemond’s drink and your shot, you dash some salt on the back of your hand, licking it up before downing the tequila. Aegon glances between you and Aemond, as Aemond sips his old-fashioned and you squeeze the juice from your second lime onto your tongue, trying to get rid of the burn of cheap tequila spreading down your throat.

“Well, as much fun as you grumps are, I’m going to go see Jace,” Aegon says, clasping a hand on your back before moving to leave.

You sigh running a hand through your hair before awkwardly glancing at Aemond. You’ve never really interacted with him much before. Sure, he was your best friend’s brother, but you’re in totally different social circles. Aemond meets your eye, glancing at you sideways. You both stay silent for a moment, unsure of what to do now that Aegon has left.

“So,” you both say simultaneously.

You give him an awkward, nervous giggle. Aemond smiles tightly, nodding for you to continue.

“So…what’s up?” you ask, nodding your head to the beat of the music that blares from the speakers.

“Not much,” Aemond says, leaning against the bar, “What’s got you upset?”

“I’m not upset,” you answer a bit too quickly, a bit too defensively.

Aemond raises an eyebrow at you, turning so his whole profile faces you. You try not to stare at the scar that runs down his face; through his eyebrow, split only by the sapphire blue prosthetic that sparkles in the low lights. You swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat.

“Sorry, yeah I’m a bit upset I guess,” you tell him, “My ex is here. We literally just broke up a couple of weeks ago and yet here he is, drowning in a sea of horny women.”

You click your tongue in annoyance at your confession. For some reason, you feel compelled to continue speaking.

“I guess I shouldn’t be upset though, right? I mean we are broken up but it’s like, the principle of it I guess? We were together a while, you don’t see me just jumping onto someone-”

“Why not?” Aemond interrupts your rambling.

Your lips part slightly, brows knitting together at his rude interruption.

“Why not what?”

“Why not get with someone?” Aemond asks, sipping his drink.

“Did you miss the part where I just got out of a relationship?” you ask him, tilting your head to the side.

“Well that certainly doesn’t seem to matter to him,” Aemond tells you.

You frown, crossing your arms.

“Gee, thanks for that,” you tell him, before moving to leave the bar.

You’ve got to find Aegon, tell him what a shitdick his brother is. Aemond follows close behind as you begin to walk into the crowd.

“Hey! Shit, wait, I’m sorry,” Aemond says to you.

You barely look back, before he tugs on your arm and you turn to face him. You roll your eyes as you do so.

“See, look over there,” Aemond says, jutting his chin to the left.

You follow where he motioned, eyes landing on a beautiful dark-haired girl clad in a black bodycon dress, seated on the lap of some golden-haired guy.

“That’s Floris, my ex-girlfriend,” Aemond tells you, leaning down so he can speak directly in your ear, “We just broke up a couple of months ago. I get it.”

You watch Floris laugh and twirl a strand of hair around a delicate finger. You wonder if Aemond feels the same pain you do when you’re watching Qyle with someone else. A glance at his expression answers your question.

“It’s rough,” you tell him, nodding.

“The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” Aemond muses.

You snort, shaking your head.

“You sound like Aegon,” you playfully accuse.

“Yeah, I’m quoting him,” he admits, causing you to laugh.

You continue giggling, a mixture of alcohol and the ridiculousness of your ex causing you to feel like your sanity is slowly slipping away from you. You groan loudly and Aemond tears his gaze from Floris, to look down at you.

“Fuck I don’t know how to do this anymore,” you groan, “I just wish there was a way to make him regret it, without actually having to begin tragically scouting dating apps again.”

You shake your head but an idea suddenly pops into Aemond’s head.

“Maybe there is a way,” he says suddenly.

“Don’t tempt me,” you tell him but he shakes his head.

“I mean it,” he tells you, “What if you and I pretend to date.”

“What?”

“C’mon, think about it,” Aemond says, leaning closer, “You and me, together. It’ll drive Floris up the wall, I know it. And Qyle too I bet.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. You give him a once over, eyes scanning past the planes of his chest, down his dark jeans. Aemond’s always dressed in black when you see him. His black t-shit hugs the lean muscles of his chest and arms, you can see the ripple of his biceps flexing. His silver chain catches the light as you drag your gaze back up to his face.

“How do you know that?” you ask.

Aemond wets his lips, running a hand through his long silver hair. He shrugs, smugly pursing his lips.

“She was always threatened by you,” he admits.

“Me?!” you ask, eyes widening, nearly popping out of your skull.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Aemond scolds, and you feel your cheeks blooming with blush.

How on Earth were you a threat to Floris Baratheon?

“She didn’t like that you were always around,” Aemond begins, “You’re Aegon’s best friend, you’re gorgeous-”

“Am I?” you ask, a sharp laugh escaping your lips, a smile playing on your face.

Aemond hums, downing the dregs of his drink. His violet eye flickers to your face and you hope he can’t see how flushed his comment made you in the low lights of the club. It’s not every day Aemond Targaryen dishes out compliments, especially to his brother’s best friend.

“Of course you are,” he tells you, “Which is why it's perfect.”

You glance around the club, unconsciously looking for Qyle’s dark curls. You shake your head. You’re not sure what compels you to keep indulging Aemond. Maybe it’s the tequila.

It’s cause he called you gorgeous, your inner thoughts tease.

He’s simply stating facts, you tell yourself. You are gorgeous. And you would love to see Qyle squirm a bit. Even if you’re pretending.

“Okay,” you tell him, “I’m in.”

Your plan goes swimmingly.

It’s not hard to run into Floris and Qyle, you and Aemond make sure to stop by all of your favorite haunts. Aemond takes you to the bookstore downtown, with an adjoining cafe where you run into Floris and her sister Maris, who glares daggers at you the entire time you enjoy your brunch.

You take Aemond to the Water Garden museum, which Qyle told you was one of his favorite places. Sure enough, you have an awkward encounter with your former beau as he’s sketching some lilies that float by on a lapis-colored reflection pool.

Qyle’s smile falters when Aemond laces his fingers through yours, demanding you show him your favorite parts of the museum. You hate to admit it but you like the feeling of his hand in yours, how Aemond actually listens when you explain which exhibits are your favorite. He’s surprisingly easy to make conversation with and a great listener. You never felt like Qyle listened.

Your scheming pays off, both you and Aemond receive heated texts from your exes which you examine weeks later while hosting a party with the gang. The gang being Aegon, Jace, Sara, and Baela. Baela and you have been roomies since university, now sharing an apartment together. You cheers Aemond as he hands you your drink, knocking your red solo cup against his.

“You and I make a fabulous pair, if I do say so myself,” you tell Aemond, taking a sip.

“Yeah, you’re alright I suppose,” he teases and you nudge him in the ribs with your elbow.

The doorbell rings and Baela rises from the couch eagerly. You frown at her.

“You invited more people?” you ask.

Baela nods while heading toward the door.

“Just a few! Alyn from boxing and one of his friends!” she calls to you.

You roll your eyes at her. Baela loves a good party and she makes a good host. You find a seat on the couch, Aemond sitting next to you, watching as Aegon versus Sara in beer pong. When Baela reenters she’s joined by Alyn and another guy.

“Guys, this is Alyn, and his friend Cregan,” Baela introduces.

You smile politely, and all introduce yourselves. Cregan is cute. Like, really cute. Ruggedly handsome, built like a total beefcake. When his brown eyes meet yours you glance away shyly.

“Get wrecked, Sara!” Aegon cheers, successfully winning the game of pong.

“Whatever,” Sara says rolling her eyes.

“Okay let’s do doubles now, Jacey boy be my second,” Aegon says, clapping his hands on Jace’s shoulders.

Jace laughs but begins to reset the cups.

“Y/N, come on be Sara’s partner,” Aegon says, waving you over.

“Fuck you Egg, you’re a cheat I’m not playing again,” Sara says, huffing as she walks away.

She’s historically a sore loser, and she doesn’t budge even when Jace pouts and begs her to play. You stand in front of the table hands on your hips.

“It’s fine, I can take you both,” you tell them, causing Aegon to raise an eyebrow.

“Kinky bestie,” he teases and you throw the ball at his head.

He ducks, dissolving into laughter as Jace blushes.

“I’ll play,” Alyn's friend says suddenly, walking to stand next to you.

You glance at him, smiling softly which he returns with a smile of his own.

“You should know, I’m pretty shit at this game,�� he admits, and you giggle softly.

“No worries, I’ll carry us,” you tease, “But beware, that one is a cheater.”

You point at Aegon, and he opens his mouth dramatically, placing a hand on his heart.

“That’s a pretty harsh accusation coming from the master of distraction,” he accuses.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, blinking innocently.

“Don’t let her fool you, Cregan,” Aegon says shaking his head and bouncing the ball against the table, “This one is known for flashing her tits if it means she can win.”

“Aegon!” you hiss, blushing furiously, “He’s lying.”

“Mhmm, we’ll see,” Aegon teases and the game begins.

While Aemond enjoys watching you play, he decides rather quickly he does not like Alyn’s friend Cregan. Specifically, the way he stands so closely next to you, and the way he seems to be so hilarious. Every laugh he steals from your lips sends Aemond’s heart racing, his blood boiling in his veins.

He stays seated on the couch for the entire game, eye never leaving you. Baela plops down next to him at one point, her gaze following his and landing on you. Aemond notices he’s being observed a second too late, tearing his gaze away and nonchalantly taking a sip of his drink.

“Mhmm,” Baela says, fighting a smile.

“Shut up,” he snaps at his cousin.

The shenanigans continue late into the night, with Sara and Jace leaving first. You raise your eyebrows at Sara. They’re not technically together, but the sparks are there. You know Jace will have to make a move soon, he just needs to get a little braver. Aegon is picked up by Rhaenyra next, he’s too drunk to drive. He places a sloppy kiss on your cheek as you help Rhaenyra lift him into her red Cadillac.

“I love you so much, you’re my best friend,” Aegon slurs.

“I love you too, Egg,” you tell him, laughing at his ridiculousness.

He sits up in the backseat looking around.

“Is this Nyra’s car? Is Nyra here??” he asks loudly, eyes wide.

“Yes you idiot, you called me!” Nyra says getting into the front seat.

“I’m so glad you’re here, my big sister!!” Aegon says, pressing his face against the leather seats, “Can we get McDonald's?”

For some reason, Aemond lingers behind as the party dies down, it's only you, Baela, Alyn, and Cregan left. As the hours get later, Alyn and Cregan finally decide to leave, but not before Cregan insists you take his number.

You’ve started picking up cups and plates, not one to find sleep easily after a rager. Baela turned in for the night, you can hear her noise machine blaring even though her room’s on the second floor. You roomed with her in college, she can’t sleep in silence. Noise machine, fan on, and she’s out like a light.

“You really got his number?” Aemond asks, from the couch across the room.

You glance at Aemond as he sits, legs splayed out, arms draped over the back of the couch. One of his large hands holds a now empty red solo cup. He taps a long finger against it.

“Who?”

“Alyn’s friend,” Aemond says, not taking his eye off you.

“Oh...Craig?” you tell him.

Shit, that is totally not that guy's name.

You frown, standing straight, a red solo cup dangling from your fingers. You put his name into your phone as an emoji of a wolf. It seemed funny at the time though you can’t remember why.

“Or Connor? Something with a C I think,” you tell him, shrugging.

“What about us?” he asks.

“What about us?” you ask, placing a hand on your hip, “Aemond, we’re not really dating.”

You move closer to him, holding your hand out to take his empty cup. Your hand nearly wraps around it when Aemond pulls it out of your reach. You narrow your eyes playfully at him, reaching once more. Aemond’s free hand wraps around your thigh, pulling you closer.

A blush creeps up your neck, heat floods your face as Aemond lets the cup fall, bringing his other hand to pull you completely onto his lap. Suddenly straddling him a gasp falls from your lips before Aemond swallows the noise by placing his lips against yours.

Holy fuck.

Aemond Targaryen is a good kisser. You admit, you thought he must be with that perfect pout on his handsome face. As you whimper against him, Aemond slides his tongue into your mouth, hands gripping your waist as you roll your hips against him.

You slide your hands around his neck, running your hands through the silky strands of his hair and letting your nails drag across the nape of his neck. He shivers against you and you do it again. Aemond’s hands slide underneath your shirt, dancing up your ribs leaving a trail of goosebumps behind at his surprisingly gentle touch.

“What were you saying?” Aemond murmurs against your mouth.

“We…” your voice trails off as Aemond moves his lips from your mouth, ghosting them across your jawbone, down the column of your neck.

“Mhmm,” he murmurs, the vibrations tingling against your throat.

Aemond nips at the skin of your neck before pressing hot, wet kisses along your throat. Gods you are so wet already, squirming anxiously in his lap as one of his large hands squeeze the swell of your ass, the other continuing its exploration under your shirt, over your breasts.

“Aem-” you whimper as he palms your breast in his hand.

Gods he feels good, just squeezing and kissing you, showering you with affection.

“You like that?” he murmurs, teeth scraping against your collarbone.

“Yes,” you breathe, rolling your hips against the growing hardness you feel between his legs.

He’s packing, you can tell by the way he’s pressed against you; hard and demanding. Though you suspected as much with how tall and lean he is, by the size of his hands. You’d been thinking about Aemond a lot actually.

“What do you like?” Aemond asks between kisses, “Tell me.”

“Aemond please,” you moan, “Please keep touching me.”

“Where, baby?” he asks, pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“Please touch my pussy,” you beg.

Aemond grins wolfishly, bringing his hand to the hem of your shirt. You release your grip on his neck as he pulls your shirt over your head. You assist him, eager to keep going as you unclasp your bra and fling it across the room.

Aemond’s eyes fall on your heaving breasts before he leans forward burying his face between them. Your head falls back with pleasure as he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly on the sensitive peak. He alternates his attention between both mounds, being shamelessly lewd with the wet sounds his mouth makes. You’re desperate at this point, breasts covered in red marks, nearly soaked from his mouth.

“Aemond please,” you beg once more and he lets his hand trail up your thigh and under your skirt.

His long fingers easily slip under your lace underwear, spreading your slick folds and swirling around your clit.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Aemond murmurs, mouth still buried in your tits.

Your head is spinning, ears ringing from pleasure as he sinks two fingers easily into your clenching center. You inhale a sharp breath as he crooks his fingers into the perfect ‘come hither’ position, determined to find your sweet spot. Which he does, with impressive speed as your eyes squeeze tightly shut, jaw slack with pleasure.

“Eyes on me,” he demands, “Don’t be rude, look at who’s making you cum.”

You force your eyes open, staring at him as fingers you relentlessly, rubbing your inner walls while his thumb rolls even circles around your clit. Pleasure blooms in your abdomen, it tingles up your spine. Your imminent orgasm sends warmth spreading through your limbs, your pussy clenching around Aemond’s fingers, a vice-like grip.

As you’re nearing the edge, breaths becoming desperate pants, Aemond slows his movements, swallowing your disappointed whine with a kiss.

“I know,” he sing-songs, so smugly, so condescendingly, “but you haven’t learned your lesson yet.”

He slowly removes his fingers from your dripping cunt and wraps his hands around your thighs pushing you off of him. You stand in front of him on shaky legs, and Aemond takes in the sight of you standing in your heels and skirt, topless and marked by him.

“Take off your panties,” he softly commands.

There’s no need for him to ask you twice, you move to the buttons of your skirt, but he stops you.

“Leave that on,” he tells you.

Your hands move underneath your skirt, pulling your lace panties down slowly. Aemond moves his hands toward his belt buckle, releasing his cock as you do so. Your eyes widen, at the sight of him; fully erect, pink tip leaking with precum as he slowly runs his hand along his shaft. You can see every vein that runs along his pale cock, and you were right about him being well-endowed. He’s thick and long and your mouth nearly waters at the sight.

Aemond’s mouth quirks into a smile at your staring, before he reaches out to pull you back onto his lap. He reaches for his wallet, but it's your turn to stop him.

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him, “And I was recently tested.”

“Me too,” Aemond says, “The tested, not the birth control.”

You giggle at his joke, and he grins.

“I want to feel you,” you tell him, a rosy blush blooming across your cheeks.

Aemond pulls you into another bruising kiss, as you lift your hips. You can feel the fat head of his cock kissing your slick folds, and you shiver before lower your hips onto him, engulfing him fully in your tight, wet heat. Aemond lets out a shuddering moan as he bottoms out.

Your pussy clenches around him, and you can feel him pulsating inside you like a second heartbeat as you gingerly roll your hips against him. Aemond’s jaw slacks, his violet eye blown black with lust as you begin to ride him.

He lets you for a moment, before he wraps his hands around your waist, pressing you into the couch on your back. Aemond snaps his hips against you, pulling nearly all the way out until you can just feel the head of his cock, before slamming into you once more.

Whimpers and moans fill the living room, along with skin slapping against the skin as he fucks you into the couch.

“I want you to call him,” Aemond growls in your ear, “Tell him you’re seeing someone.”

“I will,” you promise him, as he delivers another punishing thrust.

“Now.”

Your breathing stops, your heart pounding erratically in your chest.

“Aemond, no,” you whimper, as his hand wraps around your throat.

“Yes,” he tells you, kissing you sloppily eliciting another moan from you.

Thighs trembling, your pussy spasms around his thick cock and he slows his punishing pace suddenly.

“If you want to cum tonight, you’ll call him now,” Aemond tells you.

You weigh your options for a moment.

“My phone,” you choke out, motioning to the side table.

Aemond smirks, moving his hand to the back of your neck, reaching for your phone with his free hand. He hands it to you and you take it with a shaky hand.

You scroll through your contacts to find wolf boy and press the call button as Aemond lets his hand run down your chest, between the valley of your breasts and lower to play with your clit. Your pussy clenches around his still cock, desperate for him to move.

Please don’t pick up.

The phone keeps ringing, your orgasm building with each ring, each swirl of his dexterous fingers.

Please don’t pick up.

Aemond kisses your neck, your collarbone. Mumbles filthy words against your skin like a prayer.

“You like warming my cock, baby?”

Please don’t pick up.

He takes your nipple in his mouth, tugging on it with his lips, his teeth. Oh god you’re going to-

The sharp cut to wolf boy’s voicemailbox brings you back to reality. Aemond removes his fingers from your clit and you whimper with disappointment before the beep of the answering machine.

“He-hey! Hello there,” you try to sound casual, “this is um this is Y/N from the party and I just-”

Aemond sinks his teeth into the junction where your shoulder meets your neck and your jaw drops.

“I just wanted to tell you, I’m actually, um I’m-” your voice trails off, eyes fluttering shut as Aemond sucks harshly on your neck.

Aemond pulls away, a wolfish grin on his face before he plucks your phone from your hand, pressing it to his ear.

“She’s seeing someone, and she’s busy right now,” he says roughly, “Delete this number.”

Aemond hangs up, tossing your phone to the other end of the couch. Your eyes are wide as he spreads your legs wide, pressing them back into the cushions of the couch as he begins to pound into you.

The sound of wet slaps fills the room and you’re thanking every deity you can think of that Baela is a heavy sleeper.

“You liked that didn’t you?” Aemond taunts, “Calling him with my cock inside you?”

Whimpers and moans leave you with every snap of Aemond’s hips.

“Yes,” you admit, feeling a rush roll through you at his possessiveness.

“Naughty girl, you are,” he chastises, “I don’t think naughty girls deserve to cum.”

You let out a desperate whine and Aemond chuckles darkly at your disappointed reaction. You bite your lip, the delicious sting of your hamstrings paired with Aemond’s precise thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge.

“Please, Aemond,” you beg, eyes glassy with want, “Please make me cum, I want you to.”

“I bet you do,” Aemond tells you, bringing a hand to rest against your throat once more, “Needy sluts, always want to cum.”

“Aem, please,” you continue to beg, voice hoarse, “I’ll be so good.”

Aemond quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Will you now? That’s what I like to hear,” Aemond praises, “How?”

“I’ll be all yours, only yours,” you tell him, toes curling with the building pressure in your abdomen, “Fuck, I’m yours.”

“Hmmm that’s better,” Aemond tells you, “It’s you and me, baby.”

“You and me,” you repeat, nearly dumb with pleasure, “you and me.”

“That’s a good girl,” Aemond praises, releasing your throat and bringing his hand to play with your clit, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock.”

Your belly tightens and with a strangled cry, you’re clenching and coating Aemond’s cock and lower stomach with your release. Aemond continues to fuck your sensitive walls through your orgasm, as you run your nails down his back, holding him closer. He lets go of your legs and you wrap them around his waist.

“Cum inside me, please,” you whimper.

Aemond kisses you harshly, his thrusts becoming frantic as you feel him release deep inside of you. You whimper with pleasure, sinking your nails into his shoulder and keeping him inside you. Aemond kisses you again, more gently this time, and brushes some hair from your face.

“Holy shit,” you manage to say, and Aemond smirks.

“I didn’t plan on that,” he tells you, “but seeing you with Cregan-”

“Cregan! That was his name,” you interrupt.

Aemond furrows his brow.

“I fuck you that good?” he teases.

“I forgot his name before you fucked me,” you tell him.

“I can always try again,” he tells you.

“Maybe we can move it to my room this time?” you ask, “It is, three feet away after all.”

And that’s exactly what you do, leading Aemond into your room where he fucks you with his fingers, his cock, and his tongue until his name is the only one you can remember at all.

“Y/N?” Baela calls from the living room the following morning.

You open your eyes and turn, greeted by a sleeping Aemond Targaryen. You put on his shirt and open the door to your room, peeking your head out.

Baela stands, arms crossed, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Have fun last night?” she asks.

“Yeah…” you answer slowly.

Baela’s eyes flicker across the room and you follow her gaze. Your eyes land on your monstera plant that rests in the corner of the room, and your cheeks begin to burn as you see your bra strung over the leaves.

“Tell Aemond good morning,” Baela teases as you back into your room, and close the door.

You pad back over to your bed, sinking down onto the mattress. Aemond groans before his hand wraps around your waist pulling you closer.

“Good morning,” you whisper, bumping your nose against his.

note: HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT ILYSM

1K notes · View notes

actuallysaiyan · 1 year

Text

He Said To Me, "Hey, come here closer"(Gyutaru Shabana x Fem!Reader)

warnings: modern AU, jerking off, mentions of porn, Gyutaro is a pervert, pervertedness, mentions of fantasizing about reader, fellatio/male receiving oral sex

word count: 1.1k

pairings: Gyutaro Shabana x Fem!Reader

a/n: this is fully self-indulgent. I've had this idea in my head forever. Had to remove artwork cause it got flagged. Enjoy.

Read part 2 here

You’ve been friends with Ume for what seems like forever. The two of you were causing mischief even when you were in diapers. Much to her older brother’s dismay, you are a duo not to be reckoned with. The two of you were as thick as thieves and often would cause a lot of issues and troubles for Gyutaro.

And while Gyutaro was older and usually tried to fake some sort of authority of the two of you, because Ume was prettier and cuter, she would get away with everything. This led Gyutaro to grow up fairly lonely and resented a lot of people. The only person it seemed he could stand was you most days, even if you were a little shit when you were younger.

But now that you’re all grown up, Gyutaro is starting to see you in a new light. He knew Ume would be beautiful when she got older, considering how beautiful of a baby she was, but Gyutaro wasn’t prepared for how gorgeous you are.

And you tease him, or at least you don’t mean to, but he can’t help growing hard whenever you brush up against him by accident. Or if you ruffle his hair playfully, he has to stifle back his moans. You really are becoming the object of his desires and he’s incredibly happy that you still come over to hang out with Ume. Even if he can’t make a move on you, he can still admire you closer than he ever thought he’d be able to.

One night, you and Ume are having a girl’s night in. She’s invited a few friends from her sorority to just have a big sleepover. When you arrived, Gyutaro could tell something was off about you. You didn’t seem nearly as enthusiastic as you normally would, but he doesn’t say anything more than the usual greeting he gives you.

Hours go by, and he’s just hanging out in his room. Something about having this many girls in the house, especially you, has him playing with his cock for hours. He’s watching porn on his phone, just scrolling through videos. He finds that he often goes for the ones that have “fucked my sister’s best friend” in the tags or the title.

Soft moans fall from his chapped lips, and he has to keep licking them to get them wet. Gyutaro wishes you were in here, snuggling close and stroking his cock for him. You’d look so fucking cute, with your pouty lips and your pretty doe eyes looking up at him. He has to stop himself over and over so he doesn’t cum too quickly. He wants to have this go on for a few more hours. He can just barely make out the giggling in his sister’s room over the loud music.

You’ve been bored for hours. Ume’s new friends aren’t any fun and they all worship her like she is some sort of god. None of them are funny either, even though they’ve all been giggling together for a while. You decide to get up and go to the bathroom and get yourself a snack.

Once you leave the bathroom, you pass by Gyutaro’s door. Something about this makes you stop. You haven’t checked in on him in a while. You always liked Gyutaro. He was always just “Ume’s weird older brother” to a lot of people, but you were always so fascinated by him. He was the guy who showed you the cool anime growing up, the deep horror films, and the really awesome rock music you loved to listen to still to this day. For a long time, you even thought you might be crushing on him. You just knew it would never work.

Something made you go into that room, and you gasp loudly when you see him on the bed, still stroking his leaking cock. Need pools in your lower tummy, almost like someone has lit a fire inside of you. He groans at you, throwing a pillow in your direction and telling you to get out. He’s more than mortified. But all you do is close and lock the door behind you.

“Looks like you could use a hand,” you say seductively. You saunter over to him and crawl onto the bed.

Gyutaro is frozen to the spot. He had imagined this scenario a million and one times, but he never thought it would ever come true. Finally, he thinks that this could be his shot. But the thought of you potentially humiliating him and mortifying him even more is worse. So he covers himself up, and you pout.

“Come on, Gyu~, can’t I have a little taste?”

Your words make him groan. His cock throbs with need. Your pretty lips are slick with lip gloss. The same kind you’ve been using for years. You claim it tastes and smells like cherries. He’d love to be able to finally get a taste of you.

“What? You wanna suck my cock?” He asks, a smug grin on his face.

“Been wanting to for a long time.”

He can’t believe the words that are coming out of your mouth. How long had he been jerking off? Surely he’s just dreaming and fantasising about this. There is just no way this could be true.

He whimpers pathetically when you grasp his thick, long cock and begin stroking it. You giggle softly at his response, and you lean in to kiss his lips. He’s so happy he finally gets to taste that cherry lip gloss you always wear. You’re right, it most definitely tastes like cherries. It only makes his cock throb even harder.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this, Gyu.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his neck. Your hands are so soft as you stroke his leaking cock. “I’ve always wanted you.”

His heart is pounding in his chest. He swears he’ll cum too fast if you don’t stop. But he doesn’t even want to stop you. He’s been edging for hours.

But it’s when you finally wrap your pretty lips around his throbbing cockhead, that’s when he loses it. Gyutaro throws his head back and moans your name loudly, pushing you down further onto his cock. Spurts of hot, thick cum slide down your throat with ease. You moan at his taste, and you can feel the stickiness between your thighs get even worse at this point.

He sobs and whimpers as you continue to suck him well past his orgasm. When you finally pull off of him and look up, he swears you look like an angel right now.

“How about we switch now? Wanna lick my pussy, Gyu?”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice.

#bacon.writes #gyutaro x you #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro x fem!reader #gyutaro smut #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro shabana x you #gyutaro shabana x reader #kny #kny smut #kny x you #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x you #upper moons #upper moons x you #upper moon six

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cosmal · 1 year

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤 — 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧

summary — you and remus lupin have become really good at stealing each other away from parties.

or but if you're too drunk to drive and the music is right, she might let you stay but just for the night....she might want a kiss before the end of this song.

warnings/tags — fem!afab!reader, she/her pronouns, modern!au, friends to lovers, absolute idiots in love, mutual pining, oblivious!reader, oblivious!remus, drunk!reader, drunk!remus, alcohol consumption

note — this is inspired by lovers rock by tv girl!!! i think this is the longest thing i've ever written. I do very much like it as of right now. that'll probably change in a week.

word count — 12.4k

“Thank Godric, you’re here,” Mary groans from her position on the front porch, Marlene leaning into her side. Both are clearly enjoying a cigarette away from the din of the party. You can tell what type of night it’s going to be already. Not that you’ve arrived two hours late anyway.

“I’ve never seen you so happy to see me, Mary,” you giggle, crossing the threshold of Sirius’s front lawn, careful not to trip on his collection of stolen garden gnomes.

“I’m always happy to see you, lovely.” She extends her hand, the cigarette between her lovely red nails on offer.

“You know who’s going to be even happier?” Marlene coughs, as you take the smoke thankfully, taking a few calming puffs.

You pretend like you have any idea who she’s referring to, “Jamie? Haven’t seen him in a while. Miss that boy,” you laugh, voice strained through the thick smoke you exhale.

“No, you idiot.” Mary pipes up and you hand the smoke back, “Remus. He hasn’t shut up about you all night.”

“That’s if he’s sober enough to even notice you’re here,” Marlene laughs and so does Mary. You smile, small enough to not show how happy you actually are that you get to see him. It’s been too long.

“He’s drinking?”

“Absolutely hammered. We were hoping you’d get here earlier so he wouldn’t drink too much. Please go look after him.” Mary throws her arm around Marlene and she snuggles in closer. They both look content enough to fall asleep right there in the cool summer breeze.

“I’m sure he’s doing okay.”

“I’m sure he will be when you get inside.”

You move to toe your shoes off at the front mat, kicking them away so they’re not a tripping hazard.

“When has Sirius ever done that at your house, Y/N?” Mary laughs, looking down at your socked feet

“Oh, no. This is for me. Don’t want to get my shoes dirty.” You laugh when you grab the handle of the flyscreen, swinging the door open.

The girls’ laughter becomes a distant murmur when you enter the kitchen, met with mostly everyone sitting around the dining table. A deal of cards in everyone’s hands, and piles of coins and sweets sat in the middle.

James and Lily laughing and glowing under the downcast of the orange lighting, appearing to seemingly be winning. Sirius and Frank having their own side bets, throwing coins around before both calling tails. Then, there's Remus. You try to ignore the hitch in your breath when your eyes land on the sandy-haired boy.

He really does look drunk, eyes droopy but still bright when he hiccups a laugh at something James says. A quiet, airy chuckle that has his mouth creasing and eyelashes kissing his cheeks. A smile so pretty, you have to fight your own.

His head is propped up on the table by an elbow that looks like it’s about to slip off the edge, so you sneak up behind him and place your hand against his arm to stop him from falling face-first into the wood.

He looks up at you, a little startled for a second, and you can see the moment it clicks in his head when he realises who he’s looking at. He smiles, all surprised but content and you melt. The last time you had seen him was only for the third time ever at another one of Sirius’s parties. You hate to admit that the only thing you look forward to now is when you receive an invite from your workmate and you have another excuse to see his lanky best friend.

“Y/N! When did you get here?” Sirius chants, flicking his last remaining coin at Frank. He shoots him a well-deserved glare.

“About thirty seconds ago,” you smile.

Sirius looks down at your socked feet and frowns, “You took your shoes off again. How many times do I have to tell you, you don’t have to do that.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re gross, Sirius.”

Remus looks down too, the top of his head pressing into your side, a crush of his curls tickling the bare skin of your arm and you almost shiver. “Cool socks.” Is the first thing he says to you. You giggle.

They’re a dark cornflower shade, moons scattered across the material at random. They crease when you wriggle your toes, “Thanks. Got them from mum for my birthday.”

“She has good taste.” He moves off of you, slouching down in his chair until his knees are pressing Lily’s legs.

His head lolls backwards, neck bared under the warm light. You think you feel dizzier than he does. Even when he squeezes his eyes shut.

“What have you done to him?” you laugh, hand flat against his forehead to brush away his loose hair. He keens, sighing deeply under a hiccup.

“He’s very awful at poker,” James laughs, flicking a pastille across the table. You look at his high pile, and then Sirius and Franks’ which are almost of equal height. Then you look in front of Remus, the table almost bare. You laugh.

“We like to play a little differently,” Franks states over the rim of his bottle.

“Basically, you take a shot every time you lose,” James says, sober as ever. You think maybe he hasn’t lost yet.

“And Remus has lost every hand,” Sirius adds to the chime of details.

“Have not!” Remus finally pipes up, finger pointed at James instead of Sirius, too distracted staring at the ceiling. “Frank lost the first.”

“Anyways, Moons. You just lost and I think you owe us another.”

Remus groans, but sits up to reach for the bottle of Sambuca sitting in the middle of the table. You gently swat his hand and push him back into his chair.

“I think you’ve had enough,” you say, turning to place the bottle on the kitchen bench, along with the empty bottles.

“C’mon, one more,” Remus giggles, making hands for the bottle in the air. A child, you think.

“Yeah, Y/N! One more!” Sirius agrees, smiling boyishly.

“You’ll make yourself sick,” you chide with a small frown. Remus slumps against you, much defeated. He might fall asleep on you if you stand there any longer. You poke his cheek where it’s pressed into your clothes.

“He already is sick.” Sirius is smug when he speaks and you fret about what else he’s about to say, “Sick in love.”

You laugh. Could’ve been worse. But it still has your heart skipping in your chest. You really do hope Remus shares the feelings you hold for him. But then again, Remus is drunk and Sirius, is well, he’s Sirius. Despite the name, he hardly ever is.

“Boo. Awful.” You frown in faux offence, ignoring him when he winks at you. Sickening, really.

You lean down so your mouth is in line with Remus’s ear, “You wanna go lay down?” You realise you’re in quite a predicament. Coming over to parties to see Sirius’s best friend. Looking after him when he’s drunk. You’d hoped he would do the same.

“Please, no sex in my house,” Sirius states, standing to grab another drink. James guffaws.

You roll your eyes, “He’s drunk.”

“So, you do want to have sex with him?” he adds.

You almost choke on your tongue, “No, it’s just. He- Stop it.” You have to stop yourself from saying something wrong. It wasn’t a lie, you did want to. But you wanted much more than that.

“Leave her alone,” Remus chides, leaning back off your stomach. “You’ll scare her off and I’ll never see her again,”

He was right, his friends did intimidate you. But you’d hoped it would take more than not yet warming up to them to get you to never see Remus again.

Remus stands and you’re surprised he doesn’t stumble when he takes your hand to lead you away from the table and out into the lounge room. You poke your tongue out over your shoulder when you hear James make some sort of crude comment to Frank. Lily smiles warmly at you as an apology.

He sits down with all the gracefulness of a baby elephant and you have to bite back a laugh. He looks up at you, pretty eyes all droopy and a lopsided smile, and you feel like you’ll never come back from these feelings ever.

Before you can overly admire him for too long, he’s patting the space next to him with a floppy hand. “C’mon.”

You oblige probably too willingly, flopping yourself down next to him with a small oomph, your thigh pressing into his. He shuffles down the lounge to rest his head atop your shoulder, neck craned a little to reach it. You can’t find it in yourself to mind. His face is warm and it presses into your collarbone that’s peeking from out the top of your shirt. His light stubble tickles your skin and it’s weirdly soothing. God, you know you’re in deep.

“You smell good.”

You breathe in subconsciously, “You do, too.”

Under the strong scent of stale beer and sambuca, you can think you can discern a hint of his cologne. Woody and something like cinnamon. Mixed in with the light scent of his laundry detergent, like fresh linen and lavender. He's dizzying.

“I smell like beer,” he groans, hand finding its way between both of your thighs, your skirt tangled in his fingers.

“You smell nice,” you laugh.

You watch the doorway where James gets up to turn the dial on the vinyl player. The current song now loud enough to be heard where you’re sitting.

Humming along, you say, “I love this song.”

Remus gawps, “Me too. S’my favourite, actually.”

Remus having the exact same favourite song as you makes your head spin. “No way.”

“Yes way.” he smiles. If he were soberer, you’d gush to him over this. It’d have to wait.

He shifts his head from your shoulder and startles for a moment, eyebrows raised, “I didn’t even ask if you wanted a drink.” You get whiplash from the change of subject.

You sigh, very amused at his intent to be nice to you, despite being half-cut, “I’m okay. I wasn’t really planning on drinking tonight.”

He frowns, wrinkles his nose and you want to kiss it. God. “Why did you come, then?” The fact he thinks you came to get drunk and not just to see him makes you want to laugh.

The smile you’re still trying to fight every time he speaks makes your cheeks ache, “To see Sirius.”

He frowns even more and you think he wants to shift away from you. He roughly scratches at his face and you almost regret messing with him.

“Sirius?” He hiccups.

“I’m kidding.” You poke his bicep, “I came to see you.”

There’s a silence and then Remus is breaking out into one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen. You’d have the decency in you to blame it on being drunk. Nothing else.

“Me?” He hiccups, again. You place your hand atop his thigh and trace the thick seam of his pants.

“Yes, you.”

His smile dials back but doesn’t fade and his face relaxes. He leans down to place his head back against your shoulder, cheek all smooshed.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Thank you.” he hums, hooking his elbow behind yours, completely squished against you. He thinks you must be cold in a skirt and a small T-shirt. “I like it when you’re here. You make it bearable.”

You want to accept his compliment, but when he hiccups for the third time, you remember he’s drunk. “That’s a bit mean, Remus. Will I tell your friends you can’t bear them?”

Remus stiffens and you stop rubbing his leg. Drunk Remus is very gullible. Sweet, but gullible all the same.

“Stop it. You know what I mean.” He pushes further into your shoulder and you feel yourself dip down against him, head almost falling against his. You wouldn’t mind if it did, but it wouldn’t be very comfortable, you assume.

“I don’t think I do,” you tease and Remus pinches your side, which results in a stifled yelp.

“Don’t be cruel.” He strains.

“I would never.”

When you shiver in your spot, Remus wonders what your answer would be if he offered you his jacket. He thinks he should test his theory.

“Are you cold?” he asks but doesn’t move his head from your shoulder.

“A little,” you yawn. Which then causes Remus to yawn. You laugh animatedly.

“Do you,” Remus blinks slowly, eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he attempts to keep his eyes open. “do you want my jacket?”

You’re glad Remus’ head is still propped on your shoulder lest he sees the blush creeping across your cheeks. Drunk Remus is gullible. But drunk Remus is still just as kind as he is when he’s sober.

“Then you’ll be cold,” you reply, giving his thigh a squeeze. You crane your neck to look at him. He looks tired.

“Better me than you.” He moves to take it off and before he can even get one arm out, you sit forward and place your hands on his chest. Fingers twisted in his cotton shirt, your turned knee pressing into his.

“Remus, I’m okay.” You give him your most reassuring smile. Being cold is no one’s fault but your own. You don’t want to be an annoyance.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Remus sits back, albeit begrudgingly, hands wrapped around the zipper of his jacket. The further he pushes back into the lounge, the more he looks like he’s about to fall asleep.

“Remus?” you murmur. Voice quiet under the din of the party. Sirius is a loud drunk, his laughter roaring at something stupid James is doing.

His head begins to dip into the edge of the cushion, headed for the arm of the chair. If he kept this up, he’d have a crick in his neck in no time.

He hums and you pat his cheek to encourage him to sit up. It’s bemusing how quickly he can drift off. You’re very envious. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

“What’s up?” he murmurs in return, peeking from one eye, the other scrunched up. He’s adorable and you’re in too deep.

“You seem tired.” You poke his face this time and he beams, all warm and dozey under the mellow light of Sirius’s living room. A line of curls falling into his eyes and the apples of his cheeks a tinge of peach.

He hums again, much thicker than last. “M’not.”

You hold out your hand, all five fingers spread. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

He struggles, but pulls his hand from his lap and holds it up to yours, tangling your fingers. Palm flush against yours and much warmer in comparison. “Feels like five.” He pulls your entwined hands back down and you laugh.

You try not to shy from his actions, pretending like it doesn’t make your heart skip, and then almost stop completely when his thumb rubs circles into the top of your hand. You can feel the warmth seeping from his into your own and your fingertips tingle.

“Do you want to go home?” You twist so you’re completely on the edge of the lounge, hand still wrapped in his. You stop, “Or are you staying here tonight?”

He brings his arm up - with yours still tangled - and rubs his face with the back of his hand. Dragging you up and down. You giggle at his tired actions before pouting.

“I think.'' You can tell he’s trying to stay alert enough to hold a conversation with you.

When he wakes up in the morning he won’t remember being so tired here and will think you both had the best conversation. You’ll be okay with this. “I think Sirius was supposed to take me home, but he’s too drunk now.”

“You’ll sleep on the couch?” You frown and he blinks.

“I think I might have to.” He throws his head back and sighs. Strained and raspy.

You look at the size of Sirius’s two-seater and then Remus’s stupidly long legs. It wouldn’t work, and he’d end up with either a sore back or a worse-off neck than whatever it was he was doing right now. You don’t even really think before you say, “I can walk you home.”

Remus looks a little more alert, “You can’t sleep on this.” You prod the squeaky leather and it bounces back with absolutely no recoil. You’ll be sure to scold Sirius next time for having a horrendous couch, though enough money to buy everyone in the room ten of them. You know he won’t appreciate the exaggeration. But it’s for the sake of his friends’ backs.

“You don’t have to do that.” He sits up properly now and tries to situate himself to look convincingly comfortable. “I’ll make do.”

“It’s no big deal.” You shrug. “I’m walking home anyways.”

Now he’s sitting forward, his knees pushing into your leg and you almost stumble off the seat, grabbing his arm for purchase. “You just got here.” He almost frets and then coughs to hide his worry. He’s not very good at achieving a smooth, cool demeanour when half-cut. Not that he ever achieves it sober, he thinks.

“No, but I think you need to go home and sleep.” You look out into the kitchen that’s now surprisingly quieter. Lily looks like she’s about to fall asleep, leaning on James’s shoulder, who’s trying to play a horrible game of go fish with Sirius and Frank. Absolute party animals.

“I live too far away, anyways,” he says, leaning down to tie his shoelaces. “You’ll have to walk me home and then walk back, you’ll be walking for at least an hour and a half.” Why Remus is so afraid to suggest you can stay the night at his, he doesn’t know.

You squeeze his shoulder as he struggles to loop his lace through his fingers. He decides to go for the simpler, bunny-ear option. “That’s okay. You can stay at mine. I only live ten minutes away.”

When Remus sits back up after tying his laces too tight, his face is pink.

Remus Lupin has never been one for sitting comfortably, ever. With long, lanky limbs, he always has his legs sprawled out and his arms thrown over something. Anything he can take up comfortably, with enough space to spread, he’ll sit willingly.

On one hand, he’s thankful you convinced him not to sleep on Sirius’s couch. He didn’t need a repeat of New Year’s. Though, on the other hand, he could’ve made do.

Nothing was like sitting in your bedroom. He wouldn’t say he was uncomfortable, though deep down he was a little, a pit of anxiety creeping up his chest. He felt like he had little room to move - despite you owning a double bed - because he didn’t want to look stupid. He could take up space and not notice it.

Remus has trouble not taking in every detail he can in your room. Like your little trinket dishes filled with miscellaneous items, signet rings and seashells. The stuffed rhino toy in the middle of your pillows that you had told him - shyly at that - was named Clarence. Not before giggling at the poster of Twilight that you swore had been there since you were young. Your current read splayed open on the end of your bed, along with the stack of records in a blue milk crate in the corner, were things he promised himself he would ask you about when he wasn’t half tipsy and could hold a proper conversation.

In his admiration, one that was making his anxiety spread into warmth that seemed to be seeping from his bones. He’s too busy pretending like he isn’t taking in every small detail one shouldn’t when they’ve only known someone for only a month, and doesn’t notice that you’ve changed.

He looks over at you, in a pair of shorts littered with tiny daisies and a shirt that almost eats said shorts. Your hair pulled back and your face still sort of wet from where you obviously washed off the day's grime, causing the hairs around your face to curl. He doesn’t know if it’s the fading alcohol that’s causing him to hiccup even more, or if it’s seeing you all fresh and content from being at home that has his breath catching.

Remus Lupin is still a little drunk but he is also quite clearly growing to like you even more. That doesn’t change. He thinks he's done everything backwards. Meeting you, then seeing you now but too inebriated to say something redeeming, and then seeing you in the comfort of your own home before he even gets to ask you on a date. He also thinks he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Remus?” Your voice is as calm as you look when you speak and he melts.

“Hm?” He blinks, shaking his head.

“You okay?” Warm light washes over you and paints you amber as you patter across the room, the moon socks that are still on your feet pressing into the white fabric of your rug. “You’re not feeling sick?” He thinks he should blame his daze on a fake sickness, but he doesn’t want you to worry even more, so he decides against it.

When you press the back of your hand to his cheek, that’s only warm because he’s a little overwhelmed, not because he’s feeling poorly, he can’t find it in himself to hold your gaze. “I’m okay.”

“I was saying I don’t think I have any clothes for you to change into.” You remind him after it felt like you were talking to a brick wall a minute earlier.

Remus pushes his hands into the rough material of his black jeans. He doesn’t see himself sleeping in anything else. “That’s okay.”

“You’re not going to sleep in those are you?”

What else would he sleep in if you have no other clothes? “Uh.”

“You wear boxers?” you grin.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He wishes he was still a little drunker so he could blame his bumbling words on the effects of downing half a bottle of sambuca. Now he’s realising that’s just how he sounds when he’s overwhelmed by you.

“Sleep in those. I don’t mind.”

Your confidence, and your confidence only, is how he ends up pantless and under the covers of your bed. He doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You have a lovely way of making him feel at ease. He thinks that’s why he likes you so much.

You smell different than earlier in the night when your shirt tickles his arm. Like fresh face wash and night creams, and maybe even roses. He’d hate to think of what he smelt like in comparison to you. Probably still like beer, and maybe like sweat. He should’ve asked if he could’ve showered. That might’ve been too much, he’s definitely overthinking.

“You’re very quiet,” you say into the dimness of your room. He’s lucky your bedside lamp is so muted, lest you see the goosebumps raised over his skin and how his cheeks haven’t returned to their normal colour since he crossed the threshold of your room.

“M’thinking,” he returns, just as quiet. It feels wrong to disturb the calmness blanketing the room.

“I can tell.” He can hear you grin, “What about?”

He swallows and he wouldn’t be surprised if you heard it, “You.”

You huff a small laugh and push down into the pillow behind you, “Me?” Your voice is a little strained, and not louder than before. Maybe even quieter.

“Yeah. Thinking about the next time I’ll get to see you.”

“You haven’t even left yet and you’re thinking ahead to the next time we’ll see each other,” you tease, getting comfortable underneath your plush quilt and sheets. Probably too much for a summer night but there’s still a chill in the air, flowing through your open window.

“I’m just hoping I won’t be so drunk,” he admits, hating how he still actually does sound drunk.

“Hopefully,” you smile, “But that’s okay, we can blame it on James.”

“If only I wasn’t so shit at poker,” he laughs in a strained and animated voice, trying to hold back a yawn.

He finally gets comfortable, hands fisting the sheets around his body and head balancing restfully against the plush of your ivory pillows.

You can see his eyes flutter in an attempt to stay awake. You think it’s endearing but you also think he needs to sleep. “Remus,” you say, firm but caring at once.

“Hmm?” he mumbles, eyebrows pinched.

“You should sleep.” You push itchy locks away from his forehead and he sighs at the caring touch of your fingers.

“Don’t wanna.” He scrunches his nose, “I think I’m finally sobering up. Wanna talk t’you.”

You smile at his absolute urgency and think he’s adorable. Truly. “Please, sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“You’ll be here?” This, you actually laugh at.

“Of course, Remus. You’re in my room.”

He closes his eyes, eyelashes kissing the freckles of his cheeks and his tired, darkened skin, “M’kay.”

When you wake up in the morning, almost midday, Remus plagued by the effects of alcohol, you too content to wake whilst being next to him, you both have separate texts from Sirius.

Your own chat log reads, aren’t U glad you came out? You don’t reply, not wanting to encourage him in any way.

Remus’s phone, on the other hand, reads,

uncle pads has a ring to it don’t you think? xxxx

He does in fact reply, too used to Sirius being a twat.

Nothing happened. Ur disgusting and I hate you.

what do U mean nothing happened?

I was drunk. She helped me basically stumble home.

U both stumbled. in her sheets.

Fuck off. Idiot.

Neither of you mention any of Sirius’s messages to each other the entire morning. Too busy enjoying each other's company.

The week spent after Remus had drunkenly stayed the night, you could pleasantly, though maybe even with a smidge of embarrassment, admit that he was all you thought about since.

It was a new feeling. You’d never felt it before. The endearment, but also the nerves, of realising you actually like someone. Some days it made your cheeks ache from smiling, and filled your chest with warmth. On other days, the warmth cracked your chest open, an aching chasm pleading to be filled and a head clouded with apprehension.

You were eager and scared all at once. But you were happy either way because Remus made you feel things. Good things.

You had spent the morning, forcing him to eat something, telling him it would make his hangover feel much better. He’d argued for no longer than two minutes before agreeing. Saying, who am I to argue with a girl like you?

“Like me?” you’d replied, mouth full of half-eaten pancake, pushing his own plate across the marble of your kitchen bar.

“Smart,” he smiled, picking at a blueberry, “Pretty.”

And after it was your turn to babble like a fool, he’d eased you open. Asked you about the record collection in your room (he was proud of himself for remembering). You’d rambled off your favourite artists, a lot similar, and he knew he’d be an idiot if he didn’t give you his number before he left.

And he did. Wrote his number on your hand as you stood at your doorway and he thanked you for breakfast. And for walking him home, drunk. You kissed his cheek and watched him press his fingers into his skin until he rounded the corner.

You wrote the number down on a piece of paper, magnetising it to your fridge as soon as you shut the door. Though your hands were sweaty - obviously because you were around Remus - and the last number had smudged. Was it a 3? Or an 8? Or a weird looking 5? You couldn’t tell and told yourself that was a problem you could deal with later.

It was later. A whole week later and you still hadn’t called him. If it was due to your nerves or the fact you had a missing number, that was your business only. You left the last space blank, the empty spot a blinding reminder of your stupidity. You’d just have to try every number until you found Remus. It would take no more than ten attempts.

Numbers zero through four were all wrong numbers. You were only met with a piercing tone before the line went dead. When you got to five, you were met with, what sounded like, a grumpy old lady. You tried to hang up straight away, well aware it wasn’t him, but she screeched and persisted that if she had a prank call one more time, she would phone the police!

Turns out, it was a 6 after all. The lovely tone of Remus’s voice rings down the line and you sigh in relief.

“It’s you.” Your voice is airy and Remus isn't sure he knows who it is.

There are only a handful of people who have his number. His friends, most of them called and checked in regularly, except Mary, who's always one to stop by instead. His parents and his neighbour had it too. But he seriously doubted the latter, unless his flat had been ransacked.

And then he remembers he'd given it to you and he laughs. All these thoughts happen within the span of two seconds. He hopes it's you, he's been anticipating a call all week. He was beginning to maybe think you didn’t actually want to hear from him. That he'd embarrassed himself in his drunken stupor. But then he remembered how nice you were to him.

You’ll make yourself sick.

“It is?” he laughs, still hoping it is in fact you. The image of his flat turned upside down, the spot on his mantle where his small TV is, now empty, flashes across his mind.

“Remus. It’s me!” you chirp and he pushes his phone closer to his ear as if it’ll make him hear your pretty voice even clearer.

”Me? I don’t think I know any me’s” he teases, fighting back an eager smile. Teasing you could be fun. Could become a constant. He’s imagining the warmth of your cheeks, and hopefully a small smile.

“Y/N,” you correct and he can almost hear the roll of your eyes.

“Oh. I know an Y/N,” he smiles, leaning against the lip of his kitchen bench. “She’s very pretty,” he pauses, wanting to drag it out, “and she’s super-”

“Remus,” you plead. Half wanting him to continue, half wanting him to stop to save your phone splitting in half where you’re holding it too hard. “Stop.”

Hearing your smile isn’t enough for him, “Super cool. Actually probably way too cool for me and…”

Remus sighs, very happy with himself.

“You done?” you ask.

“Maybe.”

“You’re a nuisance.”

Remus decides to not argue, you’re half right anyways. “I’m sorry. What’s up?”

You pause, thinking. You’ve forgotten why you called him for a moment. Too happy with just listening to him talk. You think you could do it all day if he let you. “I was wondering if you were coming out tonight? Drinks?” You feel silly asking now. It was drinks for James, he’d gotten a promotion, but of course, Remus is coming, they're best friends.

“Are you?”

You grin, “Yes. Yeah, I am.”

“Great. Me too.”

The excitement you feel when you know you’ll be seeing him again is palpable. Giddiness mixed with a number of nerves is always there whenever you think of him. He makes you feel like a schoolgirl again and you know he’ll be the cause of your undoing.

“Great.”

A face-splitting smile erupts across Remus’s features. If only you could see each other.

The amount of time you spend getting ready in the afternoon for James’s get-together is silly. After what's an almost stupid amount of time rustling through your closet to find something, the final thing you settle on you hope isn’t stupid. A red skirt that ends mid-thigh, a white tee and a leather jacket. Boots that you hope actually do your legs justice, not just how they look in the mirror.

You know exactly why you're making such a fuss with your appearance. Spending an extra amount of time making sure loose hairs are sprayed down and a fresh coat of nail polish that's applied probably a little too late before you make your way out your front door.

You think that maybe if you didn’t know if Remus was attending or not it'd be a lot easier on you. Or maybe worse. God, you're a mess. You just really want to make him like you.

Arriving at the pub a little early is probably a bad idea in the long run. You greet James and Lily with equal delight. You hadn’t seen them since his shindig at least two weeks ago. Sirius, pint in hand, greets you loud enough to let the entire pub know of your arrival. Frank and Alice are absent. In-laws. You feel as though you had finally found the perfect group of friends.

James had told you that Remus was probably going to be late.

Which gives you too much time to down an inappropriate number of vodka-cranberries, much to Sirius’s delight. Pressed into a corner booth, settled next to James and Sirius who have now also transitioned to fruity drinks.

When Remus finally arrives, the sun now set, you're at least five cocktails deep. The pub is a little loud now, though you’d never struggle to hear any of your rambunctious friends. They're probably half the noise. You're a giggling mess, warm from the effects of alcohol. You feel ridiculously happy like you expected to, but you haven’t even seen Remus yet.

When you sip back the last dregs of your drink, the rim pressed into your nose, determined not to waste a single drop, your eyes finally settle on Remus who's selfishly been admiring you from afar. Your eyes light up like a delighted puppy and he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from smiling like an idiot.

He walks to the edge of the table, wet and sticky wood pressing into his jeans and he grimaces. “Finally he arrives,” James cheers, mojito raised in the air.

“Moony! Looking as ravishing as ever, my boy!” Sirius cheers with equal flare.

Remus ignores both of them with a tiny smile, too used to their words it’s like second nature to ignore them. “Sweetheart,” he smiles at you and you light up even more.

“Remus! You’re here.”

Sirius gets up and slides along the wall to make room for Remus next to you, “He looks ravishing, wouldn’t you say, Y/N? Good enough to eat,” he repeats

“I am hungry,” you admit with a giggle as Remus settles down next to you, only enough room for a sheet of paper to fit between your thighs.

“Having a good time, lovely?” Remus gestures to the empty glasses taking up the table in front of you. Your lips are stained red and he has to lick his own.

“Amazing!” You lean into his side and your hair tickles his neck. Your warmth seeps through Remus’s skin and he doesn’t have a single problem with how close the two of you are sitting. He’d be kidding himself if he said he did.

“I’m glad,” he says, hands settling atop the table.

“Are you?” You blink, eyes bright and welcoming. He has to avert his attention to your nose instead. Feeling as if you’d swallow him whole.

“I am now,” he grins.

Distracted, the half-empty glass in your hands spills when you twist its stem a little too quickly. A puddle of cosmo seeps into the half-polished tabletop and you cringe.

“Oops.” Quick to act, despite how sapped you feel from the cocktails, you grab a too-big handful of napkins from the dispenser in front of you.

With little to no flare, you push the entire pile of paper into the split drink and probably make it worse. The napkins almost turn to pink sludge and you only spread the drink further. A cold, sticky mess.

Remus laughs and grabs your wrists, pulling them up from the mess, “What have you done, hmm?” He puts your hands in your lap and you slouch, defeated.

“Accident,” you huff. You watch Remus’s hands swipe across the table, much better at cleaning up your mess. Like it wasn’t even there in the first place.

Upset that your drink is now empty, when Sirius isn’t looking, too distracted talking quidditch with James, you reach forward and snatch his mojito. Cheering internally, too happy with yourself, you sip slowly.

“He won’t be too happy with that,” Remus laughs, pushing the serviettes to the side.

You shrug, pushing further into the leather of the booth seat, “Accident.” you repeat.

Remus chuckles. You scull back the last of Sirius’s drink and Remus braces his hand on the skin between your shoulder blades, with a gentle “Take it easy,”

You turn to him and wipe the line of drink from your chin with the back of your hand. Smiling before gently slamming the now-empty glass back to the table, a ring of condensation splashes across your palm.

You wipe it across Remus’s leg unthinkingly and he wrinkles his nose. A dark stripe up his thigh. He takes your hand by the wrist again and grabs another napkin. Dabbing your palm gently and you act unaffected by his attentions when you trace the water on the table with your free hand.

“Am I the one who’s going to be doing the babysitting, tonight?” Remus counts the glasses that hadn’t been collected yet. Five. Six, now counting the one you stole.

You nod, gleefully.

“Saves me, then.” Lily takes another swig from her Pimm's, very happy. James presses into her side and throws his head back.

“Merlin, I’m tired.” he huffs.

“Boo. No fun,” you pout, eyeing only his third drink that he hadn’t touched in way too long, “You drink too slowly, that’s your problem.”

He snorts, “I don’t have the drinking problems, lovely.”

You gasp, hand to your chest, sticky fingers pressing into your skin, “Just because I’m having fun!”

You notice the beginnings of a frown across Sirius’s face, clocking the glass in front of you, green to your past pink drinks, “You little sneak.”

You pout, “Okay, I’m sorry, let me get the next round.” You move to stand and when you’re upright, the room spins. You grab Remus’s shoulder for purchase and he grabs your forearm. His grip is grounding, flesh between his slender fingers.

“Okay, let me get the drinks,” he says, standing. The love-hate relationship you have with his height hurts sometimes.

“No, let me.” You rummage through the purse over your shoulder, through sickles and spare tampons, and pull out a measly fiver. You hold it up to him with a frown, paper crumpled in your hand.

Remus chuckles and places his hands on your shoulders, “Sit.”

You do what he says and ignore the warmth in the pit of your belly.

As Remus stands at the bar to wait for the drinks, he turns to watch you with a content smile on his face and a warmth spreading up his chest until it begs to swatch his cheeks. He watches as you cover your face with your hands, giggling madly at something James is telling you.

He thinks his heart is messing with him when it skips in his chest. When you throw your head back, neck bared and your eyes squinted, your shoulders raise like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard (it could be but he doubts it), he thinks his heart has an actual fault. Almost halting completely when your eyes meet his and he thinks he’s been caught, but you smile contently and he has to look away before it jumps out his throat.

He knows he’s truly done for.

He returns with a tray of drinks, mojito’s for his friends and a pint for himself, a packet of crisps pinched between his teeth. If he doesn’t choose to drink cocktails with everyone else because he wants to be sober to keep his eye on you, that’s completely his business.

He places the drinks down, a hum of thank yous and cheers follow, he opens his mouth to let the crisps fall into your lap. You startle and look up at him, bemused.

“You said you were hungry.” He smiles.

You beam, hiccuping what he thinks is thanks.

“Where’s my fuckin food?” Sirius calls, voice very clear above the din of the pub. He throws a cube of ice at Remus and misses.

“Up your ass.”

Sirius goes to reach for a crisp and you clutch the foil bag close to your chest. He doesn’t try again, thinking you might bite him. “Fuck, I need a cig.”

He stands and stops Remus from sitting as he climbs over you. Squeezing past with almost zero care. You laugh, he seems hangry.

When he almost steps on your toe, “Look out, you prat.” Remus scolds.

“C’mon. Outside.” Sirius drags him away before he can even protest.

“You gonna ask her out, or what?” Sirus leans against the wall of the smoking area and flicks his ash.

Remus groans, “Don’t say it like it's easy or some shit.”

“Is it not?” Sirius laughs like it’s obvious. Remus envies his natural charm some days. He wished it came easy to him.

“No. She doesn’t like me like that.” Remus toes the gravel beneath his boot with a crunch. Watches as it skips across the ground and to the firepit. A distraction from the scolding that he’s expecting he’s about to get from Sirius.

Sirius coughs on a thick exhale of smoke, pushes himself off the wall. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

“What? No.” In some delusional, fucked up way, no, Remus is fucking with Sirius. Not since 7th year, anyways.

“She's mad about you,” Sirius laughs around the filter of his cigarette, “It’s sickening really. I mean she’s gotta be half dumb or something.” After another exhale he flicks more ash to the ground.

“Fuck up.”

“Whatever.”

There’s a beat before Remus says, “She doesn’t feel that way about me.” His head rests against the red brick behind him and wishes it would swallow him up. He wishes this was easier.

“What, you think she wears her best red skirt for people she doesn’t love?”

He lifts his head and glares at Sirius, “You really are a fucking twat, you know?” He steals the cigarette from between Sirius’s fingers and ignores his grunt as he inhales deeply. As deep as he can until Sirius swats his hand.

“I’m fucking kidding.” He takes it back, grimacing at the butt of what’s left.

“Still a twat,” Remus grunts.

Sirius flicks the orange filter to the ground and squashes it under his leather boot. “Seriously, Moons. Make a move already, it’s starting to get sad.”

He sighs, and Sirius almost wants to slap some sense into him. He doesn’t, remembering how he’d reacted last time he did. “I can’t. I’m not ruining anything.”

He decides to pat his shoulder instead, a gentler approach, “You’re a miserable sap.” He squeezes his sad friend, “She likes you, a lot, and she’s really good for you, y’know?”

“She is, isn’t she?” Remus sighs, lovelorn and dizzy, “Fuck, she’s so amazing. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. Have you seen her when she laughs? Fuck sakes.” He has to stop himself before he rants too much.

The both of them start to make their way back into the pub. “Alright, put your fucking cock away.”

Remus opens the door to the bar, “Get inside,” he laughs.

“If you don’t make a move soon, fuck I might.” Remus’s face goes slack and he pushes his dickhead of a friend towards their table with a little too much force. He stumbles with a hearty chuckle.

Left alone in the middle of the bar, a little incensed, he turns to look around and spots what looks like your aforementioned red skirt, standing in front of the claw machine.

Bemused, but more intrigued, he beelines for you with slow strides. When he stands behind you he places his hand to your shoulder. You turn around and smile warmly. You’re standing, more like swaying, with both hands inside your purse.

“What are you doing, dove?” he asks and squeezes your shoulder. You push back into him, probably for the stability you lack. He braces you with his thigh behind yours.

“You smell like a chimney.” You wrinkle your nose and he laughs. It reverberates through your chest and you have to blink away the way it makes you feel. Sleepy.

“Sirius is a horrible influence,” he says with an equally wrinkled nose.

“I’m looking for a coin,” you answer his question, looking back down into your purse. “Want to win you something.” Remus’s heart swells tenfold.

Before he can pull one from his pocket as an offering, you bend over and tip your entire purse to the paisley carpet, contents spilling everywhere. Wizard money, bright pink tampons, chapsticks and gum wrappers sit in a pile and Remus steps back with a disgruntled sigh.

You turn and crouch down to sort through everything, Remus looks down and gawps for a second. Half amused, half displeased. He bends down with you and helps as well.

“Do you think it'll take sickles?” you question, moving bandaids to the side. It’s looking like a lost cause.

Remus shakes his head with a laugh, “I don’t think so, honey.”

You frown.

“Here,” He handles a few items and places them in your purse, “I’ll help you clean this up and I’ll win you something, hm?” Remus thinks you’re a bit like Mary Poppins with how much stuff you have. He’d say this to you because you probably would understand the muggle reference, but you seem too upset over your lack of coins.

“Was gonna win you some chocolate,” you laugh, picking up more stuff.

The last few items fall back in with little organisation and he stands. You take his outstretched hands and let him gently tug you back up with a ruffle of your hair.

He pulls a coin from his pocket and slots it into the machine. You stand around to the side with your hands pressed to the glass like a little kid. The flow of colours washes you fluorescent as you point to a cherry ripe in a perfect spot.

He grips the joystick and moves it to where he thinks it hovers right above it.

“More to the left,” you say with your finger smooshed against the machine.

“You’re drunk,” he says before he pushes the red button on top of the stick, not moving it to where you’d said.

You laugh as it doesn’t even graze the chocolate. Claw coming back up with nothing. “Whatever.” He has two more chances at grabbing it and he’s determined.

The second time he does listen to you but still misses by the width of a hair. You both hold your breath as the claw gets lowered for the final time. You bend over to get a better view and watch as it gets picked up, not cheering until it gets dropped in the chute.

You clap as Remus cheers, taking the chocolate thankfully, opening it immediately with a crinkle of red foil. “Thank you, Remus.”

“Anytime.”

You break the chocolate in half and offer him the bigger portion. You both stand there, chewing on cherry and coconut and chocolate. You look at your sticky fingers and the worst of the after-effects of six cocktails suddenly hits you in a wave of nausea. Not enough to make you want to throw up, but enough for you to groan and grab your stomach.

“I think I should go home,” you whine, placing your half of the chocolate back into the wrapper and into your purse, probably just to melt and make a mess. A later problem, you think.

“Feeling okay?” he asks, turning to check you over. Etebrows pinched in concern already.

“I think I had too many cocktails,” you laugh, weakly at that.

“How are you getting home?” he asks.

You laugh, having flashbacks to your last encounter. “That’s my line.”

“It’s a good one.”

“I don’t know how I’m getting home,” you say.

“I’ll call you a taxi.”

You sigh, “That’d be lovely.”

After saying goodbye to the rest of the group, after they’d moaned about your fifteen-minute disappearance with Remus, Thought you’d gotten stuck in the cubicle! James had laughed. Drunkenly, you’d missed the joke. Remus had smacked him up the back of the head. But now, the both of you were making your way to the front entrance.

Remus has to drag you out the door, holding you upright as you stammer and trip on things that aren't there.

“Be careful,” he tuts, holding you closer under his arm.

“There was a frog!” you explain, very much exasperated.

“No there wasn’t,” he laughs.

“Was so!” you strain, fisting his shirt behind his back, sure to stretch the cotton.

“You just want me to hold you tighter.” He’s smug when he says it and can’t really help it. He has Sirius’s words ringing in the back of his head.

You stop at the gutter and kick a stone with your boot, “Maybe.”

Your knees ache, wanting nothing more than to crouch down to the ground. You think it would probably be a bad idea. Though with sore knees and a spinning head, bad ideas turned to the best.

You pull yourself from Remus' hold and bend your legs to crouch in the gutter. Remus’s eyes blow wide and he looks down at you. Not again, he thinks.

Before he can ask what you’re doing, thinking you've passed out, you look up, “Head rush,” you giggle with a huff of air. He sits down next to you, knees almost pressed into his chin.

Remus tugs your knee so you turn towards him, legs pressed together. He keeps his large palm over your thigh because being crouched in a gutter leaves little to the imagination to the drunks walking past and he’s not going to ask you to get up if you’re dizzy.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

You rest your head on his shoulder much like he had the last time you saw him. He hopes he had more care than you do with your cheek cruelly smooshed into his skin. “I’m just a little drunk.”

Lucky for Remus, before he thinks you’re about to fall asleep on his shoulder, your taxi is pulling up. He helps you stand, opens the back door and ushers you in.

Listening to your murmur of thanks Remus before he clicks you in.

“What’s your address, dove? So I can tell the driver.” You give him your address and he passes it off.

Before he can close the door for you, you grab his wrist.

“When can I see you next?” you ask brightly. Hopefully.

“Call me when you’re not hungover,” he laughs, brushing his fingers across your arm. Your grip hardens.

“You’ll answer?” He almost laughs again at how drunk you sound. Of course, he’ll answer.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

You lean across your seat, seatbelt pulling taut as you press a kiss to his cheek. Warm and buttery-soft just like last time, but maybe even worse now that his feelings for you are stronger. It burns.

“Thank you, Remus.”

“That’s okay, lovely.”

You in fact did call Remus, a couple of days after your night out. Expected, you were hungover so you waited a day after to talk.

Remus hadn’t really been expecting you to call him, despite how eager you seemed, he had talked himself out of believing you had any feelings for him. Like he’d imagined it or something.

So, when his phone rings, he’s not expecting it to be you at all. He answers with a sigh, thinking it’s James or Sirius.

“What do you want?” His voice is void of any excitement or joy you’d been selfishly expecting. You were also expecting a more welcoming greeting.

“Remus?” you say, and his hand stills in his cupboard where he’s distractedly putting clean dishes away.

He shuts the cupboard’s door a little too abruptly and cringes, clears his throat so he can speak, “Y/N! Shit, sorry. Hey.” He cringes even more at his stupidity.

“Expecting someone else?” you laugh.

He nods like you can see him, “Yeah, sorry.” He swallows and tries to fix himself, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” you say with a little sigh, “Really, really good.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah, how are you?” you question.

Remus’s voice goes quieter, “Amazing.” Then there’s a small beat like you’re both thinking, “So, what’s up? Everything okay?”

In his mind, his stupid, paranoid mind, there’s a possibility that all you’ve done is pocket-dialled him. Or, accidentally pressed his name in your contacts, maybe mistaken the name Moony for Mum.

Is his name Moony in your phone? Or is it just Sirius’s friend? God, he wants his thoughts to shut up.

“I wanted to ask you something!” When it sounds like you actually want to talk to him, what almost feels like relief washes over him. Paints him bright as he settles on his sofa, beaming like a schoolboy when he says,

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Your excitement is dizzying. “Are you free this weekend?”

He has to swallow before he speaks, eagerness bleeds through his skin. His foot taps and he picks at a loose thread on his battered shirt. “Yeah, I am.”

You chirp a happy noise, “Awesome! Cool. Um, there’s that gig on at The Red Lion if you wanted to come?”

Remus doesn’t see himself as a cool person and it definitely doesn’t show when he says, “Yeah! I’d love to.” in a tone pitched higher than normal.

“Great. I think Sirius is coming too, I told him about it the other day and said he should invite the others. I wasn’t sure if he had asked you yet.”

Oh.

Remus feels like the biggest idiot ever. You weren’t asking him out, why would you?

He leans down between his legs until all the air is forced from his lungs, he covers the receiver with his hand and groans, long and suffering in self-pity.

Is coughing to clear your throat and hide your disappointment a good thing? Because his voice is a little squeaky when he replies. When he sits back up his head spins. “Sounds great.”

He hears some shuffling on the end of your line before you say, “Amazing. I’ll see you then. Sorry, gotta go. Bye Remus!”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

Remus has about thirty seconds of wallowing in self-pity before his phone is ringing again. He wants to shove it in between his sofa cushions and forget about everything. But he sees Sirius' name flash up on the screen so he answers.

“Moony!” Sirius’s voice pierces the phone line and Remus cringes. “Remus, my good friend.”

“Did you just get lucky or something?” Remus gruffs.

“Huh?”

“You’re too happy. Calm it down.”

Sirius groans, “You’re so content with being miserable, Remus. Just because you can’t get your dick wet.”

Remus wished his stupid friend could see the displeasure on his face, “What do you want?”

“You’re free this weekend, aren’t you?” He questions and Remus hums a yes, expecting to hear the exact same question you had just asked him only three minutes ago.

“Well, you, me, the gang, and a few pints at The Red Lion. Sounds like a plan?” Remus detests his friend's happiness. Or envies it. He feels miserable and doesn’t think Sirius is deserving of his lack of enthusiasm just because you didn’t ask him out.

“Yeah, Y/N already asked me,” he replies.

“Well, don’t get too excited.” Sirius huffs a laugh.

“No, sorry. It’s just I thought she- never mind. Sounds good.”

“Awesome. I’ll send you the deets.”

Remus almost laughs, “The deets? Wait until I tell Marls you talk like that.”

“Shut up.”

“Bye, Sirius.”

Sirius hangs up before he can.

Remus spots you before you do, again. Watches where you lean against the bar on your tip-toes, talking to the bartender about something. He’s making you laugh and he feels the stupid need that it should be him instead.

He does what he always does; walks up behind you and presses his shoulder into your back. You chirp and turn around. Then, your eyes do that thing that they always do that makes him bite the inside of his cheek. They squint, confused, and then light up when you realise who you’re looking at. Remus could swear that they sparkle, but that’s just something he imagines in his lovesick head.

“Remus!” You smile, mouth upturning until the apples of your cheeks swell. You wrap your fingers around his bicep and pull him into your side. He lets you, willingly.

“Y/N,” he says probably a little too quietly for the setting. The pub is starting to fill quickly while the band does sound check, the general hubbub of the patrons mixes in with the strumming of guitars and the feedback from the mics.

“You’re all wet,” you giggle, pressing your fingers into the underside of his arm.

“Yeah, it’s starting to rain out there,” he says.

“You walked?” You frown, pulling your hands from his arm. He can still feel where your fingers were wrapped. A burn against his wet skin.

“From the bus stop.”

“You know there’s this thing wizards can do, I’m not sure if you heard of it. It’s called disapparition,” you quirk, mouth upturning into a teasing smile.

Amused, Remus says, “I don’t usually like muggles to watch someone appear out of thin air.”

You reach forward to grab some napkins from the dispenser on the bar, probably too many. “I would’ve picked you up,” you say matter-of-factly.

He doesn’t reply, just stops still when you reach up to brush away the damp hair from his eyes. There’s water bunching in his hair and falling in tiny beads down his face, over his top lip. You laugh when he licks it away before you dab across his forehead and then his cheeks.

“I missed you,” you say, bunching the paper into a ball.

Remus smiles, too hard he thinks. “You saw me last weekend.”

You think he might be teasing you, though you’re not sure. You feel like you’ve overstepped. Demure, your eyes widen at your error. “Sorry,” you laugh, airy and quiet.

Remus pokes you in your side, “I missed you too,” he laughs.

You nod your head and bite your lip. You feel eased. But embarrassed in the first place. Scrunching the ball of damp napkins in your hands until it pinches. Still, you’re overjoyed.

“What are you drinking?” you ask, splaying your hands over the bar, leaning where it comes up to your chest. You try to ignore everything. The way Remus is making you feel, the busy pub that’s teeming with rowdy people.

“Not sure,” he quirks, eyeing the taps at the end of the bar. “What about you?”

“I think I might just stick to squash,” you laugh knowingly.

“You’re on it tonight,” Remus laughs, splaying his fingers around your shoulder.

“I’m not having any repeats of last week.”

“Damn,” he pouts, “Drunk Y/N is cute.”

You warm, “Drunk Y/N is messy.”

He squeezes you, a funny pinch. “I think you can be both.”

You lean into his side while he orders your drinks. His hand doesn’t move and you don’t want it to. It’s warm and grounding and feels too good to be true. How touchy he is and how you love it. You imagine a world where he doesn’t just touch your shoulder. Imagining what he’d do if you were together. How ruining he would be.

Distracted by his grip on your arm, before you can even reach into your purse to grab your money, he’s paid.

“Remus,” you scold, pushing yourself off the bar.

“Dove,” he smiles, placating. He grabs both of your drinks, in one hand, fingers twisting. The other snakes down to grab your hand to guide you through the crowd of people.

“Stop paying for my drinks.” Someone bumps into you and Remus digs his elbow into your side to stop you from tripping. You smile thankfully.

You let him weave you through patrons, your hand flexing around his until you get to your table. Once you've sat down, he says, “Sorry, didn’t think a fiver would cover it.”

Faux scolding, you shove his arm. “I have more money on me this time.”

“Good,” Sirius pipes up, “you can buy me that cocktail you owe me.”

“I’m sorry, Sirius.” You act like it genuinely does upset you. Though the thought of how you acted when you were drunk last week, is worse. “I’m a really annoying drunk.”

“Sirius is being dramatic,” Remus sighs, leaning back against the booth. He throws an arm behind you, pressing it up against the wall. You stay sitting forward, not sure if it’d be too much to lean into him. Despite him making the first move. “You got your cocktail.”

“Yeah, you bought it,” Sirius faux scoffs. It’s hard to believe that he actually cares about a stolen mojito, easier to believe he’s determined to tease you until you die. “Doesn’t count.”

“I’ll buy you a cocktail if you really want me to, Sirius,” you lilt, happy to get him to shut up. It works when Remus shoots him a look you don’t understand. Sirius bites his tongue and sits back in his seat.

By the time James and Lily get back from the bar, the band has started their set and you’ve had enough time to think too much on whether or not you should lean into Remus’s side. His weight behind you feels like a magnet. The more you want to pull away the stronger the urge is to just give up and fall against him.

Much like everything is with Remus. The more you allow yourself to think you really do like him, the harder it is to keep to your regular ways. You’ve never allowed yourself to be so openly affectionate and loving towards someone without second-guessing every single thing you do.

Not that you don’t. Every time you speak to him, touch his arm for too long or allow yourself to wrap your own arm around his back, there’s that voice in the back of your head that’s screaming at you. Telling you that you’ve let your guard down too much for a boy you’re not even sure likes you as much as you do him and you’ve embarrassed yourself.

It’s totally overwhelming and constantly feels like a back-and-forth battle. Because, sure, it's no secret anymore to anyone who isn't Remus, that you like him. You just wished it were easier.

As if he can hear your head reeling, or he’s just noticed how quiet you’ve suddenly become, he nudges your leg where it’s crossed with his own jean-clad one.

“You okay?” he asks. His face is soft. Too soft for your dismissive and relentless thoughts to ebb. It’s suddenly painful to even be looking at him and you’ve only been around him for no less than twenty minutes. He’s always had that ability.

The nod you give him is unconvincing and your smile is even worse. His eyes flicker and you open your mouth to speak before he can, “Yeah, jus’ thinking.”

“I can tell.”

“You can?”

You chance another look back at him and regret it instantly when he’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. “Yeah.” He nods, “You’re making that face you always do when something’s eating at you.”

Hating being read for filth, you turn to take a sip from your drink, filling your mouth with your straw lest you say something stupid. You drink it too quickly, and once it’s down to its last dregs, your head aches. Brain freeze. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to distract yourself when you say, “What face?”

“Your lips part and your eyebrows pinch. Sometimes I have to double-check you’re not crying.” Remus is a lovely, horribly attentive boy. And if he keeps saying things like that, things that let you know he does actually pay attention to you, you’re not going to last. When you said you wondered how ruining he would be, this isn’t what you had in mind.

Remus says something to you again, but you don’t catch it. The band transitions into a much louder song and his words fall on deaf ears. You do, however, catch the look he shares with Sirius again over your shoulder.

Confused, you suddenly think fresh air would be better than to pain yourself through whatever’s happening around you. “I’ll go get that mojito,” you mumble.

You weave yourself over Remus’s lap, careful where your shoes and hands land, careful to also ignore where he stables you with his own hand on the back of your knee. You try to make it discrete as you beeline for the bar, taking a small turn to head for the back doors.

The warm air cast from the setting sun slowly dwindles away and you cross your arms over your body, leaning against the railing to the left of the smoking area. When the door shuts behind you, the music from inside slowly dies down and you’re grateful to be the only one out here.

The fear you have been feeling throughout your entire friendship with Remus does its best to claw its way up your throat. Makes your breathing staggered and your palms itch. You suspect if you spent any more time with him inside you would’ve only embarrassed yourself more than you feel like you already have. Best you do it out here instead.

The muffled music slowly grows louder when you hear the door open and you pay it no mind. Not until there’s a hand on your shoulder. You flinch and turn around, pushing yourself against the railing.

“Shit, sorry. Just me,” Remus smiles, pulling his hand from your shoulder.

“Remus,” you breathe, hand to your chest, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he frowns.

You pause. Trust him to notice your departure. You hope he doesn’t ask you any questions, you don’t expect yourself to hold anything in anymore if he soothes you over.

“You okay?”

Fuck sakes.

“Um, yeah.” You nod. Remus moves to your side, arm pressed up against the railing and you follow him. Turning so you’re face to face.

“You sure? You just kind of up and left.” he laughs weakly, stopping when he notices you don’t join in.

“Sorry,” you apologise.

“What for?” he asks kindly. You once more detest his kindness and his ability to get you to open up.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, leaning further into the railing and it rattles, “I’m being weird.” You’re not opening up like you’d expected, though the words you want to say to him are at the back of your mind, where they were once pushed away, slowly crawling forward. If he keeps looking at you like that, they might spill.

“You’re not.”

“I am. I’m thinking too much and it,” you heave a calming breath. You want to tell him how you feel, not ramble, “it hurts.”

“Hey,” He traces a line over the hinge of your elbow, “what’s going on in that head of yours, hm? Care to let me in?”

You swallow, “That’s the problem. I can’t find the words.”

“That’s okay.” He squeezes your arm, “Take your time.”

His gaze is soft though it still burns where it’s settled over your face, his grip on your arm is worse. Still, it’s grounding. You blink and take a few calming breaths.

The door opens up again and the band’s music spews back outside. It’s the same song that was playing the night you sat on Sirius's couch and you’d freaked about how it was both your favourite. In some cheesy, cliche way, you take it as a sign.

“I’ve never been one for showing, let alone telling someone how I feel about them,” you begin, “I’m not sure if that’s the most obvious thing ever, or if I’ve gotten really good at hiding it but…”

Remus is smiling widely, more smug than anything. It makes you nervous and you advert your gaze to the ground. Over the ash-strained brick tile under your sneakers, “Stop looking at me like that or I won’t be able to finish what I’m trying to tell you,” you sigh.

“Like what?” he asks like he’s oblivious. Like his mouth isn’t now upturned into the slyest smile.

“That!’’ Your face grows warm and you have to press the backs of your hands into them. You can feel the thrumming of your heart in your fingertips.

“Sorry, you were saying,” he chuckles.

“God, where did you get all this confidence from, Remus?” you ask, a little dazed. Maybe it’s the setting or the fact you’re both finally sober together that brings out a different side of him, though you can’t be sure.

Remus shakes his head, “I’m sorry, you just look so cute when you get flustered.”

Your mouth parts, a shocked, demure gasp slips past them. Gawping, you say, “You’re not drunk, are you?” It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it's the first time it feels different.

“Not this time. For once,” he laughs knowingly.

“Right,” you pause. Taking in a shuddered breath. In what world you would ever expect this to be easy, you’re not sure. You’re also not sure that doing this with Remus makes it easier. Easier, because he makes you feel secure and appropriately worked down to tell him anything; harder because it’s him you have to let your emotions go with. It’s him you have to let know of your heartachingly, sore feelings you have. He can’t just be there on the sidelines guiding you through it.

Remus watches you slip away into your shy, quiet self again. He can almost hear your thoughts reeling, “God, you’re worse than me.”

You giggle nervously, all pitched up and light, “You make me nervous,”

He steps forward and if your eyes weren’t stuck on the ground, you wouldn’t have noticed it. He’s smooth. “Do I now?” He hooks a knuckle under your downwardly pointed chin and gives it a tap.

You look back up, catching his gaze, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” he says matter of factly. Like its the most obvious thing ever. You’re sure it is.

“I don’t?” You blink slowly.

He closes the gap between you some more and suddenly you’re overwhelmed by him. The smell of his laundry detergent, something familiar and heady, mixed in with the cologne that you swear follows you home. Where the toe of his boot almost touches your sneaker and where the sleeve of his sweater catches on your bracelet because he’s as close as possible. Though you still think he’s not close enough.

His voice mixes in with the same song that’s playing inside and you can barely hear him when it builds to a crescendo and he says, “You weren’t about to go on some rant about how you love me?”

“Remus…” you murmur, quieter than the thumping of your heart in your chest,

“No?”

You bite your tongue, but it does nothing to stop you from saying, “God, yes. Just- kiss me, please.”

“What?” he asks, more shocked than you’ve been this entire interaction.

“Kiss me, Remus. Before the song ends.” You lean into him, up on the balls of your feet and pull your hands between your bodies.

Face to face, lips hovering over yours, he murmurs, “You sure?”

“Completely,”

It’s the last thing you say before Remus kisses you so hard, so deep, that you forget how it was even possible to form words in his presence before now. Snakes his arms around your back and holds you so close your shirt rides up until your skin presses into the soft material of his sweater.

He tastes of stout, a weird mixture against the lemon on your tongue. You can’t find it in you to mind when he hums into your mouth. A desperate, pleading sound that has you squeezing the flesh of his hips. Compared to the reserved and diffident relationship you’ve held with Remus up until now, the kiss you share is nothing alike. It’s passionate and heated. Longing.

The song ends and with a final tug of your bottom lip, he pulls away panting. Eyes skipping over your face, a little glassy and bouncy. “Fuck,” he murmurs.

Tugging on the hem of his sweater, you say, “What?’' with a light chuckle.

“If I…” Remus has to compose himself lest he says something embarrassing. Completely forward. “If I knew kissing you would’ve been like that…I would’ve done it ages ago.”

“I think I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a really long time,” you confess, giddily rocking back and forth on your feet. Canvas sneakers crushing into the ground.

“Yeah?” he hums. Smugness still ever present.

“Yeah.”

“Thoughts on me kissing you again?” he asks, still not letting you go where you’re held against his torso.

You look over his shoulder, “I think if you kiss me again, Sirius’s jaw might fall to the floor.”

Remus turns and spots Sirius and James almost pressed to the glass window. James doesn’t look as pleased, shoving a crumpled note into Sirius's palm. Turning back to face you, he rolls his eyes, “I think they had a bet going.”

“Should we give Sirius his money’s worth?” you giggle.

“I’m going to kiss you. But, not for Sirius.” Remus says, “Only because you look insanely beautiful right now and if I don’t do it again, my brain might go numb.”

“What are you waiting for then?”

“Nothing.”

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salaciousdoll · 9 months

Text

Giving erwin head seems like a dream to you especially while he watches your sextape featuring the men of your dreams

· · " Says It Feels Like Heaven To Him" · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Featuring Professor! Erwin Smith with Guest Appearances of Levi Ackerman, Miche(Mike)Zacharias, Nile Dok ( even threw in a little Zeke and Eren Kruger for a second) x Fem! T.A. Reader･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings: Smut, fivesome( just in the video), Apple Vision hasn’t come out yet so work with me here on the little research I did, Erwin is rich, double penetration in both and one hole, fucked dumb, deep throating, oral ( m receiving while watch the video on the Vision Pro), aot au/ modern au, sloppy top for Erwin cause he deserves it, I think this has plot, idk, spit roasting, pet names, big praise kink, some degradation here and there, I may make another one with Zeke and eren Kruger( don’t know yet, throat bulge, big and heavy cock Erwin, tears( dacryphillia), Levi being a mean and nice Dom, black reader in mind but anyone can read, Dom Erwin, chubby reader, may be considered dc, first time writing for him so he may be ooc, overall nasty nasty stuff

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Word Count: 3.7k

18+, Minors do not interact

Credit for art in header

Psa: the italics is the video playing on the Apple vision pro headset

With the void, black space and sparkling little dots in the sky, you traveled home in your car listening to the radio play hits of the month. Tonight was heavenly for you, you loved hot summer nights ever since you were a kid, don’t even get you started on spring or fall nights. Summer nights were filled with people walking on the sidewalks talking with their friends, relatives, and partners. They were filled with loud music blaring from bars, clubs, and people sitting in their cars.

As you drove to your professor's house as his T.A., You passed lots of entertainment and that made you smile so much. You couldn’t wait to collect the test answers so you could grade your students' tests. You wanted to be able to enjoy this adolescent night. You were planning to go to a restaurant that stays open until 4 am with your friends since they needed to catch up with you. All you need is the test answers and then you’re set, probably should be finished by 12:30 am. Your friends should be coming out of the club by 2:30 am, so you’ll even have time to shower and get ready. You all decided to pull an all-nighter because you missed the days when you used to do it.

You passed a few big houses before you made it to his large house, the house always brings up memories you held deep inside of your memory. Memories that you shared with 4 other men including Erwin Smith. You stopped your car and got out after turning the headlights off. Your keys jiggled and moved as you walked up to his door proudly with a small smile on your face. Once you made it to the double entry wrought iron doors that stood taller than you. You have no idea how he could afford this but you had a guess in mind since he wears a lot of expensive tailored suits to work.

You pushed the doorbell, rocking back and forth to calm your nerves of being here again. You haven’t been here in a month, couldn’t face them outside of work. You were glad you only got to see Erwin instead of Levi, Who was in the same department as Erwin but had a different subject— which was Writing while Erwin had History. Miche was in the art department while Nile was in the science department with Hange. Hange, a person you wished you could’ve had there as well since you’ve always eyed them.

You rang it again before deciding to knock on the door when you didn’t hear an answer. You moved to the side and peaked through the glass to see if you saw anyone and you didn’t. So you stood there for a minute until you decided to just go in. You twisted the doorknob and it opened, it was almost like someone left it open for you. Erwin definitely did because he always used to say let him know when you’re on your way and you did, only two hours ago. You shrugged your shoulders and walked inside— closing the door softly, avoiding the slam the door always did when you used to come here freely.

You walked to the entrance of his living room and heard his groans loud and clear. He was too occupied in pleasuring himself out in the open to even realize the door bell had rang. He had on the new Apple vision pro vr headset and the noise coming from them was so lewd that you were speechless. You could hear it from where you were standing, so you slowly put your purse/bag on the table an arm length next to you and slowly walked to him.

Once you got closer to Erwin, you heard the slick noises of him stroking his dick up and down with , from the smell of it, strawberry lube you brought over here from the last time you were here. He kept it with him and you wanted to know why, soon you will find out. Just as you were about to speak, you heard your voice speak from the headset in a needy tone.

“ Fu-ah-ck~!! I can’t take it anymore Miche, please please please.” Your moans were so pretty and you almost wanted to pat yourself on the back from how pornographic they sound. You slowly walked around the couch and stood on the edge of it looking directly at Erwin.

“ shit! Welcome, Miss { reader’s last name}. Your…”. Erwin was stuck when his dick pumped in excitement in his hand. You didn’t know if the excitement was from the video, the adrenaline of being caught, or from your stare on him. His body was sweaty and you could tell he’s been at this for a minute now because of the smell of strawberry and cum around him. The saltine air was doing something to your senses and it went straight to your now tingling pussy.

“ Is this how you greet all your past T.A.’s, Mr.Smith. If so I’ll begin to think of you as a horny pervert. Wouldn’t want that now would cha’?”. Your whispering was getting to him as you now noticed he paused the video with his finger pressing into the air. “ How can you even see out of those? Hmm, wanna give me an explanation as to how that is and what I just walked in on.” Your voice was so alluring to him, it didn’t matter if you had a gruff velvet tone or soft tone, he loved hearing your voice.

Erwin showed you his small smile as he began to talk again after searching for his voice for about 5 seconds, “ I would gladly explain this futuristic device to you later, miss { readers last name} but I’m a little preoccupied with trying it out right now. If you’re looking for the test answers, they’re in my office down the hall. Specifically on the desk.” He then lifted the device off his eyes, setting it on top of his blonde, unruly hair. Sweat built upon his forehead as the lines from the device formed on his red face making him, surprisingly, look very enticing to you.

You looked back at the hall he pointed to prior to looking back at him with low eyes, “ They’ll have to wait for now. After all, we have a three day weekend starting tonight, so why don’t I show my appreciation to Professor Smith. Put back on that VR set, sir. Want you to focus on that video and that video only.”

He almost let out a low groan at the pet name he so desperately loved, especially when you called him that. School or not, he’s always gonna feel something when you call him that. You slowly took off your top as he slid the car set back on his face. After your top came off, your bra followed— gently falling to the floor. You walked up to Erwin and slowly got on your knees in front of him. His cocked open legs were so thick and muscled, you were planning on riding them sometime in your life, maybe tonight. Who knows. You trailed your acrylic nails up his thighs— dragging them close to his trimmed pubic hairs. You watched as he bit back a moan and as his dick jumped against his lower stomach. The red angry tip was having a stare off with you and you were winning because of his twitching.

Your knees hurt on the carpet but you were gonna ignore it for now. You wanted his cock in your mouth and you were gonna get him in your mouth. You tried to enclose your right hand on his dick, but it didn’t fit around the entirety of his cock. Thick fingers trying so hard to wrap around his thick abnormal dick, you then pressed his tip on your lips giving him a little peck prior to rubbing his wet tip across the lower half of your face. You wanted this to be messy and you were gonna get it even if he was caught by surprise when you did that.

Erwin was bigger than Levi and close in length to miche whilst being close to Nile in girth. You could tell he started the video over because you heard your whimpers which meant you were being teased by Levi.

“ How long have you dreamed of this, little girl? I’m sure you even day dreamed about being used like a little slut by us. Such a shame really. Such a pretty little shame.”, Levi says on the video. Erwin watched on the big screen he had on his Vr set. He was so glad he got this VR set because he could watch this video in 3d with a fake background of the ocean.

He watched your eyes look up in a squint as you looked at Levi, “ I’m not a little girl. So don’t call me- hnngn.” Two fingers were placed inside of your pussy by Levi who looked at you with low sharp eyes, “ what was that? Couldn’t hear you over you being a slut for my fingers.” The camera panned to Miche, Nile, And Erwin before he set the camera up on the tall night stand in his room.

Erwin moved next to you to plant his kiss on your buttercream scent lips as Miche whistled at Levi words, “ Come on, Levi. You gotta give the girl credit for seducing each one of us with those pretty brown eyes of hers. Eyes that told stories without talking, we’re now experiencing another story of hers.” Leave it to Miche Zacharias to bring his perception into this, reasons why he’s an art teacher.

You, on the other hand, took the tip of his cock in your mouth causing him to let out a low moan. The way your lips instantly lock on his dick should be awarded. The sucking sounds from you was enough to cause him to put down the VR, but he’ll never be able to get to his favorite part if he does.

Erwin's body shuddered when he heard your pleas in the video and felt your lips swallow more of his dick in your wet, hot mouth. You almost vomited on his dick, but you controlled your breathing and throat to take him in completely. Both of your hands were now on the lower part of his cock as spit slowly glided down his dick and onto your hands. Erwin held your head in one of his hands as he tried so hard to keep his eyes on the screen like you said.

The convulsing of your throat was enough to make him want to snap his hips up, but he resisted and let you take control, just this once.

“ Ummph, your dick is stretching me, Nile. Pl-”, you moaned as he slid inside of your wet pussy with the help of miche holding your legs open from underneath you. Levi let a small smirk display in his face in the video. Erwin just now noticed that little smirk and he was so gonna tease Levi for it later but right now your moans plus your lips wrapped around his cock was the only thing on his mind.

“ Ease up a little, Nile and Mike. Don’t want my little TA to call off work just because we broke her.”, Erwin said as he played with your pretty nipples in a clockwise motion making you squirm even more. Levi stroked himself on the side of you while sucking on your neck. Nile was too busy trying not to cum because of the way you were squeezing around his dick, “ Looks like she needs to ease up on me before my dick breaks. She’s fucking tight. So please, sweetheart. Ease up for me, will ya’ ?” Nile held your face in between his hands— looking directly in your eyes.

You couldn’t even think straight because of the fullness you were feeling in both holes. They complimented each other all too well, but you got pulled out of your daze when you felt a kiss on your mouth from a different man. The man in front of you, Nile. His kiss was ruff but a little passionate which suddenly made you loosen up around his dick causing him to move back and forth with ease. Miche groan loudly when you convulsed your other hole around his long cock, “ Fuck, pretty girl. You’re treating my dick so well.” His deep baritone voice sent shivers down your horny spine and you couldn’t do anything but moan, loudly too.

Levi rolled his eyes when he heard you repeating curse words with a whine laced in your whimpers, “ Erwin shut her up before I do it.” He was such a mean Dom and you loved it. Nile and Miche shared a choked moan and groan because you tightened around them at the same time when you heard what he said. Erwin chuckled and turned your head to his standing cock, “ Come on, my princess. Don’t wanna upset him any further now, do we?” His tone was chilling, almost like a threat and you loved it. Erwin took his cock in his hand and tapped your plump lips, “ Open up wide for me, darling. Want you to open up nice and wide for me.” You looked up at him through your lashes as your body thrashed up and down due to Nile and Mike’s movements. They were so in sync with each other as you parted your lips as you could go. Next sounds that were heard were your slurpy moans and the moans of all the men around you as you pleasured them.

Levi was in love with the way you twisted your hand around his cock, “ such a pretty view to see you filled up in all of your holes. Shit! Your fucking hands are working me so perfectly. Being such a good girl right now, baby. Keep it up for me, got that?” Your moans on Erwin’s dick told everyone everything they needed to know. You were gonna be a good girl for them after all.

Erwin couldn’t handle the way your head bobbed up and down on his cock with ease now. Your throat warmed up to him and he couldn’t be more proud of you. You were struggling to take him in the video but now here— it’s like you were a new person or spirit. He loved every second of it, paying attention to the dick sucking sounds you made as you devoured him. “ Mmm” and “ hmm” were heard all around his living room. Teary eyes was something he saw after rolling his eyes to the back of his head in pure lightness. He looked down at you slurping his cock up like you were drinking out a small straw with a thick ass milkshake.

Erwin reached to the top of your head, setting a shaky palm just over your hairstyle, “ May I?” You bobbed your head up and down to answer his question and he sequenced after moving whatever hairstyle you had in your hair out from your eyes, so you can really see. One of the small things you noticed about Erwin compared to the others is that he knows the boundaries and doesn’t over step them without thinking about it. Bare minimum? Yes.

He tasted so good in your mouth, salt with a small hint of used cum. You couldn’t describe it exactly but you knew his dick had just the right flavor to openly want to suck his dick up the way you’re doing it right now. Hollowing your cheeks caused him to spring up and try to knock his knees together but you scratched at his stomach letting him know to sit down and take it like he told you plenty of time on his desk, bed, etc. “ Ah, Ah, swee-sweetheart, I’m going to cum soon if you keep doing - oahh- that.” Erwin was never this vocal before and he needed to start being this vocal because now one of your hands dropped from his dick— moving down to your undergarment. You rubbed yourself in slow circles feeling the wetness spreading on your fingers like it was honey.

You removed your other hand and dropped that one to his balls to play with them in a soothing but pleasuring way. Your moans were getting louder on the screen and off the screen. It wasn’t just only your moans though, Erwin’s moans were off screen. He was enjoying himself too much and honestly he didn’t care. He was mouth drunk in a sense. Could wait for it to end no matter what. He didn’t want this memory to end at all. Miche was right, you were a part of the memories he had to reminisce about when he gets older and wither away like all older people do.

The sounds of gagging were heard when your mouth moved further down his cock up until the little blonde hair on his pelvis. Your moans from playing with yourself were stuffed so good with his cock deep down your throat. “ fuck! Sweet girl, your mouth and hands feel so good. So. Damn. Amazing. Keep going for me, my sweet doll.”

The video now showed you now taking him and Levi inside of your pussy together. Your screams of pleasure were one for Erwin’s history books. “ Fuck, she’s fucking swallowing my dick right now. Erwin you choose the right one to be your damn T.A.” Erwin chuckled as he focused on holding your thighs— you were in the cowgirl position on top of him.

“ You should see her face taking both of us right now, Levi. So damn beautiful.” Erwin kissed your neck wrapping both of his arms around you— Levi wrapped his arms around your arms pulling your upper body up a little bit, “ beautiful huh? Maybe Mike or Nile could take a picture and send it to Eren Kruger and Zeke, let them know what they’re missing.” Tears fell down your eyelashes as they battered their dicks inside of you with soft little kisses from Erwin to comfort you even more than you already felt.

Miche chuckled with his head tilted back before getting up to come hold your chubby face in between his big hands, “ such a beauty indeed. Even more beautiful with a fucked out expression on your face. Such a pity they couldn’t come, huh.” Nile came up beside him, both with their dick standing on full hard, “ I’ll take the picture only for me, then two don’t deserve to see this masterpiece of a woman, isn’t that right my little bunny?” Just then Erwin snapped his hips up as Levi followed after, both spilling inside of you as your mouth fell into a silent O as you came on their cocks— That silent O soon got filled with a thick tip of Mike’s dick.

“ God, I wish you could see how pretty you look right now. Gonna- mmph.” Erwin groans turned into moans when you let out a little moan against the sensitive part on his dick, his veins. The video stopped and you notice he snatched off his Apple Vision Pro headset and grabbed your head to make you engulf all of his dick without any room to breathe. Erwin grabbed your throat to feel his bulge against it and nothing could ever satisfy him the way your throat bulge did. You stayed where you were until you felt thick salty fluid in your mouth. You had no choice but to swallow all of his cum inside of your gagging mouth. Small Snot flowing down your nose with Spit and the rest of his cum you couldn’t swallow flowed down this dick to his ass. “ Holy shit! Fuck, m gonna cum in that pretty little mouth, don’t run. Don’t run. Breathe through your nose for me….” And you did to which he responded with a lazy smile after he came down from his high, “ good girl. Such a good little slut for me.”

He let you go when you tapped his thigh and you automatically lifted your throat off his cock, coughing a little prior to a small smile displaying on your face, “ Next time, could you do that during the intercourse. I liked it, especially if it’s from you.” Erwin body slumped against the back of his couch as he peered down at you with low blue eyes, “ You’re so pretty. I need you to say it back to me, pretty girl.” You didn’t know where the serge of affirmation came from, but you were living for it as you looked at him like he was the only man in the world. Little did you know, you were always the only woman in his world.

“ I’m pretty— your pretty girl.” Your voice was so low and he knew it was because of his dick. Erwin pulled you up by your hands, kissing them. He then pulled you down on top of him and kissed you on the mouth, “ Yes, my pretty little butterfly. Thank you for giving me the best I ever had …. Now about those test answers?” He lifted up his eyebrow at you. Somehow, you had forgotten about them because your jaw hurt. You’ll have to grade tomorrow and make sure the girls make it back safely. You’ll have to reschedule everything all because of Mr.eyebrows with the big dick chuckling at you waving your hand whilst laying on his chest.

Tagging: @shunsuist @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @emomanswhore @honeybleed @angelshub

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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

Text

Gamer boy (part two)

Modern gamer!eddie munson x baby sitter fem!reader

Part one

summary: you’re propositioned to baby sit by your father, but it’s for Eddie “the freak” Munsons niece. You had history, but now you can’t even stand being near him. Will you both be able to put aside your distain? Or will a little gaming bet, bring you closer than ever before?

⚠️warnings: eventual smut 18+ mdni, angst, friends to enemies to lovers, mutual pining, mean!eddie, slight fuck!boy eddie, cocky eddie, perv eddie, panty stealing, gaming bets in exchange for sexual acts, giving hickeys, finger sucking, suggestive cliffhanger.

wc: 4.2k

note: thank you to @corrodedcorpses for lending me her genius brain <3 (don’t forget to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)

eddie photo edit: @themunsonator5000

You woke up Saturday morning, feeling a little more optimistic. You knew for the sake of the remaining time there was left to babysit Layla, you had to suck up your feelings for Eddie. Play nice is what you kept repeating to yourself. No matter how much Eddie aggravated you, you were here for Layla and to help Wayne. They did nothing to you, whatever is going on between you and Eddie or isn’t going on, it’s not their fault.

Luckily, when you awake, everyone else is still asleep. As you move into the kitchen, body still adorning the black little onesie, Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of last night, but he’s a boy, of course he’s gonna look if tits and ass are in his face, in a twisted sorta way, it gave you the confidence to not break down right in front of Eddie. You were confused and hurt, you thought your feelings for him were long gone and instead placed with disgust, but now you know your feelings never left, but they did manifest into resentment for him. Maybe for ignoring you over a rumor, or even believing a rumor to begin with. That was so out of character for Eddie at that time, so the hurt never left you it just snowballed into something that felt like hatred.

Once in the kitchen, you turn on the old 80s looking coffee pot, and search around for a mug that hasn’t been hanging up collecting dust, you find one in the top cupboard, it’s a dark blue with ‘# 1 dad’ etched on it. You assume it’s Wayne’s everyday cup and begin pouring the steaming coffee into the mug. You look around in the fridge for some creamer but you have no such luck. You pull out the milk and search around for some sugar or sugar packets, finally finding some sweet and lows in a junk drawer.

Once your coffee is to your liking, you lean up against the counter and sip on it as you contemplate whether or not you want to make some breakfast, finally deciding on a yes, you raid the refrigerator and pantry for anything that looked appealing. You decide on bagel sandwiches, one of your favorite things to make and luckily you have all the ingredients.

Once you’re done with the eggs and adding the cream cheese to the bagels you hear little footsteps making their way into the kitchen.

“Good morning, y/n!” Layla chirps with excitement

“Well, hello little miss Layla, how did you sleep?” You say as you bend down to get eye level with the toddler

“Good, no bad dreams.” She says as she eyes the food behind you.

“Are you hungry? I’m making one of my favorites.” You say as you stand back up, going back to spreading the cream cheese and flipping the eggs.

“What is it?” She looks at the eggs almost skeptical

“It’s bagel Sandwiches. They’re really good, I promise.”

“Mmm, can I have cereal instead?” Her little face flashing you a look of sympathy, like she didn’t wanna hurt your feelings.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her, while you find a bowl and spoon for her cereal. Once it’s made, you sit her down in her seat and start to put the finishing touches on breakfast. As you pour Eddie a cup of coffee and get his plate together, music begins seeping out of the crack under his door, it’s surprisingly low. You can’t help but wonder if he’s doing that for you. ‘Yeah right, don’t be delusional.’ You think to yourself.

You walk down the hall with his plate and coffee in hand. Maybe you’re doing too much, maybe you shouldn’t be being this nice after last night, but another part of you, the part that has now realized your true feelings, wants to somehow get back into Eddie’s good graces, or at least for the sake of being cordial while you’re here.

You placed the coffee cup on the plate so you could give the door a couple knocks,

“Uh, yeah? Come in.” The voice on the other side rings out

You hesitantly open the door, pushing it wider with your elbow as you now separate the coffee cup from the plate, holding it up with a smile.

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up at your presence, swiveling around in his gaming chair to face you.

“Is that for me?” He asks suspiciously

“Yup, hope you like it—” you sat the plate down and glanced to your right, seeing a pair of white panties hanging from the knob on his dresser, your breath hitched. Wait, those weren’t any panties those were your panties.

Eddie followed your line of vision, as he visibly gulped, the look on your face was between anger and curiosity.

“Are those my panties?” You turn back to him, gaging his reaction.

“Oh, are those yours? Sorry I thought uh, never mind.” He says shaking his head

“You thought they were your girlfriends?” You push, of course you wanted to know if the girl from yesterday was serious or just a quick fuck.

“My girlfriend?” He says as he scrunches his face, “I don’t have a girlfriend, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, so you just invite random girls over to your place to fuck them? Good ta know.” You turn to walk away

“Hey, hey! Am I sensing some jealousy, princess?” He gently grabs your arm, now towering over you.

“Pfft, jealous? You wish, pal.” You spit, but your rosy cheeks give you away.

Eddie gives you a few “tsks” while shaking his head, “there’s no need to lie, it’s just you and me here.” He smirks, dimples on display.

‘God, he’d be so hot if he wasn’t such a smug jerk.’

“Just give them back, Eddie.” You say as you hold out your hand to him, raising your eyebrows as a challenge.

“Mmm, I have a better idea.” He rubs his chin, as if he was deep in thought, “how bout we make a deal?”

“A deal? For my panties back? You’ve lost your mind, Munson.” Retracting your hand back down to your side, you scoff as you roll your eyes.

“Just listen, would you?” He shifts on his feet, you could tell he was losing his patience but you didn’t care, this power play between you two was too fun.

“Well go on, I’m listening.” You’re still standing awkwardly by his door, as you begin shifting on your feet.

“Here sit down.” He gestures to his bed while he takes a seat in his chair.

Before you can think about it, you turn around and walk out of his room back to the kitchen.

A couple minutes passed and Eddie’s still sitting in the same position, his once smug face now dropped into a look of despair. Once you come back into the room, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I had to get Layla situated, now what is this deal?” You say as you sit down on his bed, one leg crossed underneath you while the other hangs off the side.

The smug smirk makes its way back, as he rubs his hands together. That probably should’ve been a telltale sign to get out of there, but apparently you have no thought process in the presence of Eddie, because you sat there curious and intrigued as he excitedly spit out his next words.

“So I’ve been thinking…” he says, leg bouncing as he swivels side to side in his chair. “Uh oh!” You say with sarcasm, making him roll his eyes and huff, dropping his shoulders a bit, as his confidence thinned. “Shut up, and listen” He says back as his knee begins bouncing faster. “I was thinking, maybe we could do a series of bets? Ya know, make your time here more interesting.”

“A series of bets?” Your eyebrows almost shoot to the sky, while your arms fold over your chest, making your tits spill out more between the low cut black fabric. Eddie, eyes them shamelessly as he licks his lips. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to be more specific before I agree to anything.” The knowing giggle you let out, alerting Eddie that he’s been caught ogling your chest, makes him clear his throat and his eyes shoot back up to yours.

He licks his lips again before he begins, “if you can beat me at this game I’m playing then you can have whatever you want from me, whether it be for me to be nice to you the rest of your stay, or maybe even something a little more risqué if you know what I mean.” He says with a waggle of his eyebrows, the insinuation lighting a fire in your belly, and causing your panties to dampen a little. But you were playing a role and he couldn’t know the effects he has on you. “Pffft, you wish Munson.” You say with a swat to the air with your hand. It was suppose to come out way cooler than it did, making Eddie cackle, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

“Alright, alright,” he says putting his hands up in surrender. “Then whatever you want, princess.” He nods as he bites his lower lip, staring you down like a predator. “I can just be extra nice for you.” He says with a smirk.

“Well what do you get if you win?” You ask as you begin gnawing at the inside of your cheek.

“Whatever I want.” He says with an almost domineering tone and look in his eyes, making your body shiver. Now it’s your turn to clear your throat, “yeah but what do you want?” Your palms were getting clammier by the second. “Oh, I want a lot of things from you, sweet thing.” The nickname made you squeeze your thighs together, the action not going unnoticed by Eddie. Oh he was already winning.

“Okay, deal.” Your mouth and brain were clearly not synced because that came out without you giving it too much thought, you let out a deep breath as you stand up and walk over to his dresser, snatching your white panties off of the knob.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could take those.” Eddie says as he gets up to snatch them back, “they’re mine!” You say back as you try to dodge him, you almost make it around his lengthy body before he snatches you by your waist and pulls you over to his bed, you fall on top of him with your butt up against a very clear hard on, as you both maniacally laugh at the whole situation, once you realize what the hard thing digging into your ass is, you slide off of him but your body freezes as you’re now laid side to side, shoulders touching. Eddie turns his face to yours first, you follow. You both sit there for what feels like minutes just looking over each others features, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, yours doing the same.

He hums and then quickly sits up, “well, I think when you put little one down for a nap you should come back and we can get this game started.” He heads back to his chair, turning his back toward you, as he puts his head set on, and immerses himself back into his game.

You walk out of Eddie’s room with mixed feelings. He was so close to kissing you or at least it seemed like it, maybe you were overthinking it, you’ll figure it out once you put Layla to bed. The thought of having Eddie do whatever you asked had you unbelievably giddy, but being at Eddie’s mercy had you down right flustered, butterflies bursting through your torso, hands a little shaky as you did some cleaning up, you couldn’t help glancing over to the clock on the microwave every couple minutes. To say you were excited for this little “bet” was an understatement.

Layla went down with ease, she was such a great toddler it almost made you feel like having kids some day wouldn’t be so bad, all she needed was Mr. Floppy, her pink black out curtains shut, and her sound machine turned on, she was out like a light.

You decided to take a quick shower, throwing your hair in a claw clip, just a quick body wash. When you got out you dried your body, putting on some lotion and spraying a bit of perfume on your wrists and each side of your neck, before slipping on a black thong some black cotton shorts that you rolled up twice just enough to have it cling to your curves perfectly and a cropped deftones shirt you thrifted years back, you decided to keep your hair in the clip, pulling some hair out to perfectly frame your face. Once you were dressed and felt ready, you knocked on Eddie’s door.

“Come in.” He mused, all of his focus was on the game as you walked in, shutting the door behind you. Once he lost, he turned in his chair to look at you, his eyes scanning over your body, but mostly your legs and the way you rolled your shorts up to be even shorter, giving him the perfect outline of your pussy. His breath hitched when he noticed, making him swallow the excess saliva building in his mouth at the sight of you.

“So what’s this game I’m gonna kick your ass at?” You say playfully as you walked closer towards him, “yeah, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” He says as his hungry eyes meet yours.

“I was g’na have you play the game I’m playing now, ‘Elden ring’ but I decided to go easy on you and pick something for beginners.” His cocky smug smirk makes you roll your eyes. “You don’t have to go easy on me Eddie, I’m up for the challenge.” You reply back, “alright, have a seat.” He pats the gray fold up chair that was leaning against his dresser earlier, he must’ve gotten it ready for you before you came in. The thought makes your heart flutter, surely you shouldn't be getting gooey over something so minuscule. Eddie begins to go into depth about the game, it’s fantasy, you’re not surprised about that, from what you can tell and the way he’s excitedly explaining it to you, it seems pretty fun. You definitely have zero confidence in being able to beat him, but you weren’t really sure you even wanted to, you were too curious about what he was going to ask you to do for him.

You spent about ten minutes on the first round before your character was obliterated by the dragon. You were being a bit of a sore loser, but you knew you wouldn’t win, you really weren’t even trying to beat him but you had to act the part.

He whooped at your loss as he beamed over at you, smug as ever. “Well, well, well looks like I get whatever I want from you, sweetness.” The pet name made you scrunch your face up in disgust, but it had the complete opposite effect on your insides, your heart sped up, your tummy fluttered and you clenched around nothing. “What do you want?” You rolled your eyes as the words flatly left your mouth. He began rubbing his chin as if he didn’t already know what he wanted. He's probably been thinking about it since he proposed the whole plan to you. “Okay, I got it!” He says too overly excited. “You have to let me give you a hickey.” He says smirking as he leans back in his chair, head laid against the headrest. “A hickey?! Out of everything I could do to you, you want to give me a hickey?” You tease, Eddie’s smug smirk didn’t break at your words, instead his eyes went a little wide and his brows disappeared under his bangs at the mention of “out of everything I could do to you.” Now he wishes he could change it to something more sexual but he also wants to work his way up to that. For now a hickey will do, and everything after that will gradually get more and more filthy.

“Lay on the bed, sweetheart.” He motions behind him with his thumb, so you slowly get up and walk over, taking a seat at the edge of his messy bed. You can hear the “good girl” leave his lips as you sit down, you were so close to saying to hell with this game and asking him to fuck you right here on his bed, but you couldn’t be the one to instantly give in, you needed to play his game of getting him hot a bothered so he could cave first.

He stood up and walked over to you, there was something predatory in his movements, the way he looked you up and down, licking his lips. He sat down next to you, but scooted more towards the middle of his bed, “come here.” He says gently putting his arm around your waist to help you scoot closer to him, you turn your body so your chest is almost up against his, but not quite. “You ready?” He whispers in your ear making a shiver run down your spine, you nod your head yes, not looking him in the eyes, apparently for Eddie that was not a good enough confirmation. He grabbed your chin and turned your face towards his, he was a little more rough with you this time. “Be a big girl and use your words for me.” You took a deep breath in and let it of out of your nose before speaking up, “yes, I’m ready.” You whisper, “that’s what I like to hear.” He suggestively says. Your hands felt a bit shaky being in such close proximity to him, you never thought you’d be this close to Eddie Munson again, at least not the way you were the summer before freshman year, he had been everything to you at that time, he was your first kiss and you swore you’d lose your virginities to each other but life had other plans, and now here you both are, it almost felt like no time had passed and all the bullshit you both went through never even happened. You’re quickly knocked out of your thoughts when Eddie’s mouth meets your neck, at first it’s just a little peck before it becomes an open mouthed kiss, then a light suck before it progressively gets harder and sloppier, it felt so good, but you didn’t want him to know that, until he reached your sweet spot right below your ear, ‘fuck, how does he remember the spot that drives you crazy?’ You try not to dwell on the thought of him still remembering information about you.

You knew he’s been with multiple girls from school and not to mention the hook ups he’s probably had at the bar he plays at, so the fact that he remembers your sweet spot is driving you crazy, you can’t help the moans that leave your mouth at his onslaught, he always knew how to make you submit to him in just the little intricate ways he treats your body.

“Fuck” you whimpered, at a pirticularly harsh suck. Eddie removes his face from your neck after one last gentle kiss to the spot he had been assaulting, you feel all the air sucked from you as Eddie’s face inches closer to yours, but he stops to stare into your eyes. You feel stuck for a moment almost frozen in time, before you’re leaning in closer and kissing his lips, they’re so soft and pillowy, just like you remember. Eddie lets out a low groan before you pull away, “I’m sorry.” You softly say as you sit up moving closer to the edge of his bed, “um, how about we keep playing?” You suggest with a tight lipped smile, you stand up and head back to your seat in front of Eddie’s desk, you miss the way Eddie’s face fell in disappointment, he gets up nonetheless and trudges back over to you, plopping down into his obnoxious chair.

He looks over at you giving you a side smile, you see his eyes flicker to your lips for a moment before he turns back to the screen, “okay, if I beat this round you have to do something for me again, if I lose you name your price, got it?” His tone is a little harsh, but you don’t take much offense to it, so you nod as you say “got it.”

As Eddie plays his round, you look over his body, you’re no longer focused on the screen. You couldn’t care less about the game anymore, you notice how his right leg is bouncing up and down, he’s in black sweats that were cut into shorts just above his knees, he had wire fencing tattoos on each knee with a hole where his knee caps were, his white municipal waste shirt clings to his body so perfectly. The print on it is a little disturbing; a corpse with its face being melted off, you slightly wince at it, as your eyes continue to roam, but your sights set on his hands on the keyboard and mouse, the rings adorning both hands almost make you reach out to touch them, but you don’t.

You’ve sat there for at least 15 minutes staring at his hands as you bite your lip. You hadn’t even realized he lost, even after all the “fuck, fuck, fucks.” And “nooooo’s”. Not until his right hand was being waved in front of your face. Your cheeks were a deep red, it descended all the way down your neck. Eddie eyed you knowingly with a shit eating grin, there’s no way you were gonna be able to talk yourself out of this one.

“So I lost, what do you want, princess?” He says with a deep tone, almost dark. You stammer over your words as you’ve spent so much time looking at his hands, you didn’t even have time to think of what you wanted from him, there were so many options you couldn’t just pick one, so you sat there stumbling over your words. “Uh, mmm, I-I uh.” Eddie barked a laugh, he knew it was because of him that you weren’t able to form words, it made his dick twitch in his shorts, knowing he had that power over you, he never thought he’d get it again. It’s something he craved for so long.

The truth is Eddie felt such strong feelings for you, you had gone from best friends to a fucked up kind of friends with benefits way before you should’ve. You were both way too young and he did stupid shit to try and make you jealous, bringing up other girls to get a reaction out of you, being one. But he didn’t want anyone other than you.

And you had to go on that date with Josh, even after Eddie basically hinted at him not wanting you to, he felt betrayed. He didn’t give a fuck about those rumors, well okay that’s a lie, he did believe them at first but after seeing the way Josh and his friends were, it wasn’t hard to tell he was a slimey pig. Eddie knew he overreacted about the whole situation by ignoring you, but he was young and his pride was bigger than him at that time, before he knew it, too much time had passed to apologize, you moved on and he tried to.

As you still stammered, racking your brain at the possibilities. Feeling tiny under Eddie’s gaze, he speaks up, saving you from making a bigger fool out of yourself. “Can I make a suggestion?” He asks, leaning in closer to you, same cocky smile.

“Mmhm, sure.” You breathe out, wishing a hole would open up underneath you and swallow you up, you’d never been so embarrassed.

He brings his heavily ringed finger up to your mouth, “suck.” He says with a chuckle, his eyes were blown black as he began rubbing his two fingers against your bottom lip. “C’mon, I’ve seen you starin’ at them, baby. I know that’s what you’ve been thinking.” You both stare at each other for a couple seconds longer before you give in, opening your mouth and wrapping them around his fingers, you bob your head up and down slightly before you take them further back into your mouth, almost hitting the back of your throat. “Fuck, I knew it.” He groans “mmm, such a good little slut.” His words make your thighs snap together, trying to attain an ounce of friction. You continue to lick and suck at his fingers, making eye contact the whole time. Eddie smiles at you deviously, “I bet you’d suck my cock even better.” He says mockingly, while his other hand is placed right over the very obvious, hard bulge in his shorts. You give one last suck before you’re pulling off with a pop, “wanna find out?”

Thank you for reading 💚

Taglist:

@emma77645 @local-stoner-bitch @starrthemushroom @ballsacksnumber1fan @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @solar-strikes @daniajeyertt @hllfrclb @ummmmbye3 @lolalanaie @mattefic @tlclick73 @lovelylittlemetalhead @dylpicklesblog @corrodedcoffincumslut @steveharringtonswife @miarosso @blue-eyed-lion @fantasticmacaroni @daddyavesxx @chloe-6123 @aol19 @kristinjayjay @cutiecusp @abigailh-a @mrsarellan0 @aysheashea @sinczir @perfectlymellowthing @luna-munson83 @steveharringtonswifey09 @ijustwanttoreadsmutttt @your-nightmaredoll @sashaphantomhive @mandyjo8719 @briasnow-blog @bestofme1996 @darknesseddiem @bisoca @micheledawn1975 @81rain @chelebelletx @bbyhargrove @wormm-mom @xladyluna15x @lfaewrites @1paire2vans @tiannamortis @tecitodementaa @shotgunhallelujah @joantje @myrcellavonswartzschild @asukaslefteye @thepinkluvr @supernatural-1983

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst

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silkjade · 1 year

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genshin men x driving

this is so dumb but it had to be said. I've been driving for a while so a lot of these are taken from irl experiences I've had myself or from friends. also I'm american so this is based on driving in the u.s. | modern au, humor, fluff, reckless driving

𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐭

albedo ;; he has a habit of driving on the inner most lane of the highway but he doesn’t start switching to the exit lane until like 1 exit before. drove klee to the beach once 2 years ago and is still somehow finding sand in his car. all his turns are super wide

diluc ;; probably drives a very classic luxury car, like an aston martin or something. it’s sleek, it’s black, it’s giving batmobile because he drove with his high beams on for like 6 months and doesn’t get why it’s bad. it makes the road brighter he says as he blinds everyone going the other way. drives stick shift (manual), very hot when he reverses and puts his arm around the passenger seat

kaeya ;; he was the first person to get his license and everyone would ask him for rides, so now he drives a tiny sports car that doesn't fit anything. it’s also a luxury car but it’s flashier than diluc’s. follows driving laws to the T except for the fact that he never fully stops at stop signs

venti ;; an okay driver but it’s a terrible experience. you're amazed at how he hasn't run into any trouble yet. like at all. the kind of person who would try to run the yellow light except he’s doesn’t make it and is forced to brake really hard and just goes like "is everyone ok ehe.” you almost die and he says “oops”

𝐥𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐞

xiao ;; pet peeve: slow drivers. absolutely cannot stand sitting in traffic so he rides a motorcycle. always weaving in between cars but does it significantly less if you’re riding with him. has yanfei on speed dial in case of an accident. doesn’t know he’s super hot when he takes off his helmet and shakes his hair

zhongli ;; a slow driver. goes under the speed limit on the highway and gets cut off like no tomorrow. he doesn't think he's the problem though, just complains about how everyone is going way too fast. safety king. fakes injury for insurance money when someone hits him; only feels kind of bad

𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐚

ayato ;; has a driver that takes him everywhere because he does not drive, doesn't even have a license. passed his written exam with flying colors but failed on all three tries behind-the-wheel. his younger sister drives the car their parents bought for him. always likes tweets that are like “hot people don’t have their license”

gorou ;; family van kind of guy. very reliable and will drive you to the airport or help you move. doesn’t signal when switching lanes though which is kind of annoying. gets anxious driving in areas where there are a lot of one ways. always buys fruits from vendors selling it on the side of the road

heizou ;; drives with the top down, windows down and will make you feel like a coming of age movie protagonist. has the best driving playlist but will still hand you the aux if you ask. doesn’t pay for street parking though; parking meter? never heard of her

itto ;; car guy ™ who goes to car meets and mods his car. revs his engine when he sees his friends on the road but other than that he's actually a really good driver. takes very good care of his car— that’s his baby. he’s hot when he backs into parking spaces perfectly. blasts his music too loud at night though

kazuha ;; public transport icon. somehow never misses his bus/train/whatever and always manages to squeeze on even during rush hour. he tells people it's for the environment but that’s only half true. it's not that he can't drive, he just has the jankiest car; it's old as hell, has a dent on one side, and the passenger door doesn't even open from the inside

thoma ;; shining example of a perfect driver, the dmv wants him to do all their instructional videos. was only ever pulled over once before for swerving, but talked his way out of a ticket because he was trying to avoid hitting an animal. has those family stickers on his rear windshield except it's one man and like 3 dogs

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐮

al haitham ;; probably has an suv because he thinks it’s the most useful car and can get the most out of it. almost exclusively listens to audiobooks while driving. he had a great record until he accidentally rear ended a bus because he turned around to argue with kaveh in the backseat and now his car insurance is insanely high

cyno ;; super responsible driver, both hands on the wheel at 9 and 3 at all times. secretly really wants a retired police car because he thinks the idea of people suddenly slowing down when they see him on the road, thinking it’s a cop, is hilarious. names his car something stupid like attila the hyundai

kaveh ;; terrible at directions, his gps is constantly saying “rerouting” because he keeps missing turns and exits. cannot parallel park to save his life and will ask you to switch and park for him. generally a polite driver but if he's ever behind al haitham at a stop light, he beeps his horn at him 0.2 seconds after the light turns green

tighnari ;; his trunk is always full of plants and bags of soil, fertilizer, etc. has mild road rage; if he’s forced to brake hard because someone cut him off, especially while he has the right of way, he’s yelling in the car like “I should’ve hit you” because insurance would be on his side. carries snacks in his glove compartment, soccer mom energy

𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

childe ;; exclusively uses the term 'my tesla' instead of 'my car.' he insists on having it self drive to you from the parking lot; it takes forever and more often than not, it'd be faster to just walk. doesn't matter how far away he is, he's gonna go for that yellow light, it's a race against time and he's gonna win. one hand on the wheel, one hand on your thigh

dainsleif ;; drives in silence, no music no radio— nothing; sometimes he'll listen to self help podcasts though. a lot of the times he zones out and doesn’t know how he got from point a to point b. sits in his car for like half an hour after arriving home. likes holding your hand while driving

dottore ;; mutters “this would be a good place to dump a body” whenever he drives past a ditch. got pulled over for driving in the carpool lane by himself and using a mannequin to fake a passenger. they also found a bunch of questionable things in his car that he swears is for science. no longer drives because his license got revoked

pantalone ;; his car is immaculately clean. charges you for gas and makes you wipe your shoes before stepping in. always wants to stop for coffee first before going anywhere. has a lot of money but doesn’t know shit about cars so he gets way overcharged at bodyshops

scaramouche ;; says things like “I will crash this car right now” if he’s arguing with someone. hates backseat drivers and will threaten to kick you out if you are one. sometimes speeds down an empty highway at night just to feel something but drives extra carefully when nahida’s around. parks in the far corner of a supermarket parking lot to cry

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #childe x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #zhongli x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaeya x reader #dottore x reader #genshin impact imagines

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hope-drunk · 11 months

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SO HOT YOU'RE HURTING MY FEELINGS

| you and abby broke up a month ago, she creates a plan to get you back.

| wc: 3.5k

| content warnings: 18+ MDNI! set in modern day, alcohol, f!reader, strap usage (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), pet names, abby's a little mean if you squint, a bit angsty, barely proofread.

| a/n: inspired by the song 'so hot you're hurting my feelings' by caroline polachek

You didn’t know much, but you did know one thing; Abby Anderson shouldn’t be messed with. You two had broken it off over a slight argument, you didn’t understand why she couldn’t see your side of the story and accept that you weren’t flirting back with her teammate. When you two had the argument over it, the floodgates opened, and you and Abby had laid it all out on the table. By the end of it, you had stormed out of her apartment and went back to yours, finalizing the breakup with a text. You hadn’t talked to her since. The ‘we’re over’ text had been left on read for over a month.

It didn’t stop the hurt though, you looked back through the messages everyday, even though they made you slightly cringe now. It had all been so simple. You spent every second together, and when you weren’t together, there were hundreds of texts to make up for it. You honestly didn’t know how you were still breathing, you missed her more than anything. The rage wore off after the first week, and you haven’t been able to bounce back. But tonight you were dragged to a party by your roommate, and you figured, why not, it was fine to get a little drunk to deal with your feelings every once in a while.

The idea was that you’d be set free by the alcohol; to let loose a little. And you did! You had fun for a solid forty-seven minutes before the fun was disrupted. The second your and Abby’s song turned onto the loud speakers, you were done for. You walk off into the open bathroom and sit down onto the closed lid of the toilet. Your head falls into your hands. The song had sobered you up quick. You take your phone out of your skirt pocket to do what you usually do when you get reminded of Abby, ready to open the instagram app and scroll along her profile, and you would’ve been content doing that, until your phone lights up with a text from her. You open it immediately.

“What the fuck?” You mumble.

You scroll through the multiple photos she’s sent you; all of her at the gym, flexing her muscles. She starts typing, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

sorry, wrong person.

You can’t help the scoff that comes out of your mouth. “Seriously?” You say, again, only to yourself.

You don’t give her a response, simply setting your phone on the sink and rubbing a hand over your face. It’s like she knew. She knew you were tipsy and about to stalk her. She knew that you heard the stupid song that you danced around her apartment to. You swear it was a secret sense of hers.

After about ten minutes, you go back out into the party; beelining for the alcohol table. You pour the liquid into a plastic red cup, estimating what you think would be a shot, and send it down the hatch. You were entirely too sober to deal with this situation.

“Hey there, you alright?” Your roommate yells over the loud music.

“She fucking sent me pictures, of her– of her muscles.” You say, now that you were standing, the alcohol started to have its effects again.

“What? Seriously? I’m sorry. Why, exactly?”

“I don’t know, she said wrong person.” you try not to let the tears escape your eyes, not wanting to cause a scene.

“Okay, well, fuck. That’s kind of worse. Did you text her back?” She says, giving you a panicked look.

“Of course not, what am I supposed to say?”

“It’s gonna be alright, let’s just have fun, okay?” She smiles at you, trying to reassure you of her words.

You nod your head and she moves you back onto the dance floor. Again, with the alcohol in your system, you start to have a good time again. You dance and laugh and have fun; you don’t even check your phone. You don’t keep track of how much you keep drinking, but you’re sporting a hefty buzz by the time you sit down on the couch for a break. Your head spins as you pull out your phone to check the time. The bright 2:13 stares back at you, and then your attention is caught by a notification on your phone, Abby has refollowed you on instagram. You groan, hadn’t she done enough tonight?

Suddenly, you felt the overwhelming urge to call her, even though you know you shouldn’t. You were doing so good, so good! And a few pictures and an instagram notification were enough to convince drunk-you that calling her was a good idea. You walk down the staircase of the apartment complex and go outside to the picnic table that sits in front of the building. You recognize some people from the party smoking, but you don’t pay them any mind. You open Abby’s contact on your phone. Your finger hovers over the call button. Should you really do this? Should you reopen this wound that you were working so hard to close? But on the otherhand, should Abby be allowed to fuck with you like this? No, no. She had to know that she needed to stop. You press the call button and bring your phone to your ear, listening to it ring.

She picks up after the third ring, “Um, hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I need you to stop. I don’t want to see pictures of you being hot at the gym and I don’t want you to follow me on instagram. We’re done, so I don’t know why you’d send me pictures and when I don’t respond you follow me again. I really– I can’t do this, okay?” You ramble into the phone, the alcohol gives you more courage than you would’ve had sober.

“Okay, well, the photos were an accident–”

“Bullshit,” you cut her off. “That’s bullshit. And I know it is, because I know you.”

“Are you drunk right now?

“I’m at a party, yeah. That’s why I need you to stop. I’m having fun.”

“I’m coming to get you.” You hear a muffled noise of bed sheets being pushed off her body.

“No, you’re not. You don’t know where I am.” You say smugly.

“You think I don’t get invited to the same parties that you do, sweetheart? I’m on my way.” Abby says, she hangs up the phone directly after so you can’t talk back.

You feel hot all over. The anger and the alcohol heat you up. You already regret the call, and now you have to deal with telling your roommate that Abby is coming to get you. You decide to text her instead of telling her to her face. The alcohol gave you confidence, but not enough to tell her that you were being picked up by the girl who’d left you bedridden for two days.

so, funny story, abby is on her way to pick me up, sorry. see u later ok?

You put your phone back into your pocket after sending the message, not daring to pull it back out once it starts vibrating. You sit on the table and wait for Abby’s car to pull up in front of the building. You will yourself to sober up before seeing her. You know that your mouth will betray you if you try to speak to her while you’re drunk. You also know that you won’t be as brave as you were over the phone. Talking shit behind the screen is one thing, but being face to face with Abby is another. She’s so intimidating, even now. Her height and her build, the calm expression she has on her face at all times. The most you could get out of her was a jaw twitch, and that was only if you had been arguing for a few hours.

You hear her car before you see it; her brakes have always been squeaky. She pulls up fast, having to slam on the brakes to fully stop in front of you. It seems like she hasn’t forgotten her manners, because before you can open the door of her car, she’s getting out of the driver’s seat and opening it for you. Once you sit down, she even buckles your seatbelt. Honestly, she was making it really hard to stay mad. The action almost makes you cry again.

She walks back to her side and gets in, putting the car in drive and speeding off. You turn your legs towards the door and put your chin in your hand. Abby scoffs at the childish action, but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have music playing on the radio, so all you hear is the wind rustling through the open windows. Your hair flies back and forth, and you make a big display of trying to smooth it down. Abby's hair is always in a braid, so she doesn’t see a problem with driving like this.

Before you know it, you’re pulling into a parking spot at Abby’s apartment complex. This time you’re quicker than her, unbuckling the seatbelt and opening the car door.

“I don’t want to come in.” You say. “I thought you were taking me to my place.” A lie, you figured she would bring you here, but you were scared to go in; scared of the memories it would bring up.

“You’re coming inside, so…” She trails off, waving her hand towards the door.

Your eyes well up, you look down at your feet so she doesn’t see. “Can you just take me home, please?”

“No, get inside. We need to talk.” The voice she uses sobers you up quicker than anything else ever could.

When you walk into her apartment, you take a seat on her dark brown couch. She walks to the kitchen and gets you a bottle of water, taking the lid off and handing it to you once she’s back into the living room. She sits on a chair across from you, putting her elbows onto her thighs and watching you greedily gulp down the water.

It does help your head feel a bit clearer, “Thank you.” You say to her.

“Let’s talk,” she says.

“About what, Abby?”

“About why we should get back together.”

You laugh at her, it’s loud and obnoxious; one only she could pull from you. “Why would we do that?”

“Because I know you, and I know you miss me. I miss you too. I miss having you here every second and I miss texting you when you’re not here.”

“Okay, so, that’s not how this is going to work. You can’t just say you miss me without addressing why we broke up in the first place.”

She moves her chair closer to you. “And why did we break up in the first place?”

You scoff, “Because you’re possessive, and you have a jealousy issue. I talked to Mara for three seconds and we had a three hour long argument over it.”

“You used to like how possessive I was, you said it was one of your favorite things about me.”

“I did like it, I liked it when you were subtle with it. What I don’t like is getting crucified for speaking to another girl.”

“Crucified, really? God, you’re fucking dramatic.”

You huff; take another sip of your water. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to come in.” You mumble.

“Speak up for me, please. Y’know I hate it when you mumble.” Abby says, her patience running thin.

“I said that this is why I didn’t want to come in. I knew it would just be the fight all over again. I didn’t do anything wrong. She asked me how my classes were going, Abby.”

“Yeah, she also asked other girls on the team how serious we were, because she was trying to get in your fucking pants.” Abby snips, getting up out of the chair so that she can pace around.

Your mouth opens and closes. You hadn’t known that Mara was talking about you like that. She had flirted with you in the past. She was in your major, so you saw her around your lecture halls and at various parties hosted by other people you had in common. You had flirted back a few times, but it was nothing serious, just some fun banter at a few parties. She had stopped once you and Abby became official, so you thought that was the end of it. Obviously, it wasn’t.

You clear your throat, “Okay, I didn’t know that.”

“But you knew that she tried to before.”

“Abby, I’m serious when I say that nothing ever happened between us, and especially not when we were together. Do you actually believe I would cheat on you?”

Abby puts her hands on her hips and lets out a sigh, “No, I don’t.”

“So why did you fight with me over someone else’s actions?”

She sits back down in the chair. “I don’t know.”

You go and stand in front of her, she doesn’t look up at you, so you crouch down on the floor.

After a while, she speaks, “Maybe I do have a jealousy problem.”

You laugh, and she cracks a smile. “Yeah, I think you do.”

“I’m sorry, really.” She says, making sure to look directly into your eyes. “I mean it. I fucked up, but I wanna fix it. I do miss you, a lot.”

“I miss you too.” You admit. It’s quiet again, Abby brushes your hair off of your face. You can’t help but lean into her touch, her large palm is warm; it feels familiar, it feels like home. You blink up at her, “Are you going to admit that the photos were for me?”

She laughs and sniffles, you hadn’t even realized she had started crying. “Yeah, whatever. They were for you.”

You look down and laugh again. “God, I missed that sound.” Abby says.

She pulls you off the ground and places you in her lap. You touch your forehead to hers, staring intently into her eyes, her pupils seem to have expanded since earlier this evening, and you’re sure yours were just as large. You brush your nose against hers and lean your face down. If either of you were to twitch, your lips would touch.

“We gonna do this?” Abby says, barely above a whisper. Scared that if she talked louder you’d get spooked and run away.

“Make up sex sounds good to me.” You agree.

It feels like there’s a different Abby now. A hungry wolf that’s been waiting to be set free. She kisses you with such force that you move back on her lap. If she didn’t have her hands holding you up, you might’ve fallen off. Your hips grind down into her by instinct, trying to search for some friction to soothe the ache between your legs. Abby pushes your hips down onto her thigh and rolls them, forcing you to grind on the strong muscle. She doesn’t stop kissing you even for a second. You think if Abby had a superpower, it would be sex.

Suddenly she’s standing, you wrap your legs around her waist and your arms around her neck; she still doesn’t break the kiss. She brings you into her bedroom, and you feel your eyes well up with tears. The wave of relief it sends through you is insane. You didn’t know if you’d ever be back in this room, under Abby. You didn’t know if you’d ever see her pillows or her closet again. It sounds silly, but you’ve truly missed everything about her.

She pulls away panting, “Why y’crying, baby?”

“I don’t know. Missed you; missed this room.”

She smiles and leans back down for a kiss, it’s less heated; more loving. She pushes the shirt you’re wearing up and places kisses down your stomach. You gasp as she lightly drags her tongue right above where your skirt starts. Your hips lift, urging her to take it off; urging her to get closer to where you need her.

“Gonna make it up to you, okay? Gonna make you feel so fucking good, not even gonna remember why we broke up.”

“Okay, please.” You say back to her. You place your hand on the top of her head, slowly unraveling the tight braid she has in.

She doesn’t even take the time to take off the black maxi skirt you have on, just pushes it up your legs and takes off your panties. She stares at your cunt for a few seconds. You can feel her hot breath fanning over it. A whine falls from your lips; and suddenly she’s licking a stripe up your slit.

A moan comes from your chest. You haven’t been touched the whole month, not even by yourself. Every time you tried to masturbate, you just thought about sex with Abby, which only made you upset. You snap out of your thoughts when you feel Abby suck on your clit, it sends you reeling. You push her face further into you, and your thighs close in on her head. The noises you’re making are absurd. You’re sure her neighbors are going to leave a note on the door, but at this moment you couldn’t care less.

It’s embarrassing how fast the coil gets tight in your stomach.

“Fuck– Abby, think I’m gonna–” you can’t get a full sentence out. The words begin and end on your tongue.

She pulls her mouth away and presses her fingers into your clit, rubbing tight circles on it. “Already, bunny? Just got started.”

“I know.” It comes out whiner than you wanted it to. “I know, I’m sorry. Just feels so good.”

“That’s alright, sweetheart. Come when you wanna, I’ll be right here.” Her mouth reconnects with your cunt.

You think it’s about ten seconds before you’re coming. You let the tears fall freely for the first time tonight. You feel so happy, your chest gets tight. Your hips grind into Abby’s mouth. She’s always been like this; staying latched onto your cunt until your orgasm is done. You cry out at the overstimulation once you’re back on Earth. She removes her mouth to shush you, pressing more kisses to your neck and moving your hair off of your sweaty forehead. Your head is reeling, your vision is blurry.

Abby comes up and kisses you on your cheek. “You want the strap?”

A wave of arousal flows through you at the mention of it, “Would it be make up sex without it?”

She laughs and gets off the bed, going to her closet to retrieve the box where it’s stored. She strips while she’s over there, and puts her clothes in the dirty laundry. Always so neat, can never have anything out of place. Once she gets it settled on her waist, she comes back over to you.

“You ready, baby?”

You nod your head.

“Words, please.” She gives you a soft smile. “You forget your manners?”

“No,” you say, voice hoarse from the moaning. “I’m ready, Abby.”

She lines up the strap with your hole, and gently eases it in. You pant. You didn’t forget your manners, but you did forget how good the stretch feels. She bottoms out; the strap kisses the sweet spot inside of you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“Is this okay?” She asks. She’s staring down at where her hips meet yours and you can tell she’s fighting off the urge to thrust into you until you answer her.

“Yes, can you just– please move.”

Abby doesn’t need to be asked twice. Her hips grind into yours with all the force in the world. You can tell that the strap is hitting her clit because of the grunts she’s letting out. The room feels humid at this point, and you’re sure it stinks of sex.

“You’re mine, yeah? No one else can ever have you.”

“You have–” you’re interrupted by a moan as she starts rubbing at your clit again. “You have a jealousy problem.”

Abby scoffs, “Gonna give me fucking attitude right now? When I’ve got my cock buried in this pretty little pussy?”

You whimper at your words. You always get off on Abby telling you off. You love how dominating she is. You love watching her brows raise when you say something questionable. You can’t help but rile her up.

“You do, it’s bad. You need to work on it.”

“Stop being a brat and come on my fucking cock.”

Her words send you over the edge, this time further than you think you’ve ever been. She follows you soon after, keeping the strap buried in you while her orgasm washes over her. When you both come back, she’s fallen beside you, the silicone lays on the floor. She breathes deeply beside you.

“So…” You say.

“So what, baby?” Abby says. She decides you’re too far away and pulls you into her chest.

“Are we back together?”

She laughs at you, really laughs. Like you’ve just said the funniest thing in the world. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

You start laughing too, “Well, I don’t know!”

“Yeah, we’re back together.”

Your smile widens and you hide your face in her chest, suddenly embarrassed by the question that slipped out.

“Okay, well good.” You say.

You drift off like that, content to be back in Abby’s arms. Happy to be home.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x female reader #abby !#tlou fic

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averytirednerd · 3 months

Text

Oh yeah, time for a big rant about Hazbin Hotel!!!

I haven’t really had much of a chance to sit down and write about this since I watched the episodes, so things I say are probably going to reflect what others have said. I’m just writing this to gush about the things I love about some particular songs in HH.

I didn’t have any big expectations going into the first episode, because I’d mostly heard negative reviews of the show so far. I had heard that the songs, however, were bright spots, so I really looked out for the songs and listened in every time we were graced with one. The characters are truly the best versions of themselves whenever there’s a song going on, even if they aren’t the main focus of the song. It’s amazing to see, especially since my favorite thing about this show is the characters themselves.

My favorites are “Loser, Baby” & “Stayed Gone” and will probably be the main focus of this post because <3333

“Stayed Gone” is sung by Christian Borle (Vox) and Amir Talai (Alastor) and I could not be happier about it. Their voices are amazing here, and my favorite bits of this song are on repeat in my head.

I also love little visuals like the mug Vox has in the talk show format, the scrolling text in the news show format, or Vox’s error message toward the end of their bantering.

(The scrolling text says: “I’m totally not worried about this guy and neither should you be. I totally wrecked his sh*t last time he tried me.”)

Alastor really gets under Vox’s skin and it makes me kick my feet every time. Their dynamic truly is everything, and I’m so excited we got this song that showcases it perfectly.

He clearly enjoys it too, what a little jerk.

Speaking of these two, Vox definitely had/has a thing for Al at some point, right? I mean…inviting him to the Vees for a start. Not to mention just the v i b e s. Poor guy though, it’s definitely one-sided.

I love Al’s use of…modern…lingo. Truly a spectacle. That on top of it being a reveal of Al’s rejection to Vox’s offer 💀 I love this man <333

Last thing about this song, promise, but also I love the casual little lore drops and more pieces to the puzzle of the past that we get. Very exciting! Can’t wait to see how everything fits together once we find more pieces.

Okay okay, moving on. “Loser, Baby” is amazing musically as well as visually.

First things first, I LOVE JAZZ OMG AND IT FITS HUSK’S VIBE AND EVERYTHING SO PERFECTLY???

Keith David’s voice definitely fits Husk in my eyes now, I see it, it works. He’s amazing. Does a fantastic job.

Not to mention Blake Roman’s performance was, of course, incredible as well.

The big, upbeat, brassy sound in this song is amazing and I’m loving the trumpet in it especially (any fellow trumpet players? no?)

I love everything about this song. The visuals, voices, instrumentals, lyrics, message, all of it!

Husk slowly going from “yeah you kinda suck lmao, but so do I” in order to not make Angel feel like he’s not being genuine, to sneaking in a better message of “we’re not perfect but it’s okay, don’t be so hard on yourself” (and getting Angel to believe/go along with it too!!) is amazing. It’s a perfect example of these characters being the best versions of themselves during musical numbers.

This song is what solidified Husk as number 2 in my rankings (and I’m sure I’m not the only one). I mean…just look at the way he moves, it’s so silly.

(We’re going to ignore the Videoshop watermarks, okay?)

Overall, I’m loving this show so far despite some obvious issues with pacing n such and an overall rocky start. Especially loving the songs, which I think kinda make the show rn.

If anyone wants to add anything (because I definitely didn’t cover a whole lot, just surface level stuff because even this took a while to type out) then please feel free to! Also ask me any questions you’ve got for me concerning stuff that has/will happen(ed) in Hazbin Hotel. I love HH discourse!

Thanks to those of you who read all the way through, sorry for such a long post lol <3

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sapphire-writes · 10 months

Text

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 3 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: The gang comes to Luke's aid when he needs to find a new boat. You and Aemond continue to be at each other's throats.

word count: 4.9k

warnings below the cut!

warnings: sensual themes, language, drinking, smoking the devil's lettuce (general substance use warning)

note: thank you for all the love so far! I appreciate it so very much!

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

The clouds cleared from the stormy previous night, leaving the sky free of clouds and the sun reflecting over the choppy surf of Blackwater Bay. You’d found sleep easily, soothed by the splashing rain against the windows of High Tide.

You’d fallen asleep in Baela’s room after binge-watching Criminal Minds together (something you first bonded over when you became roommates at university together). You don’t open your eyes yet, even though you can feel the warmth of sunlight on your face. You’re content to try to sleep a little longer until the vibrations of Baela’s phone begin next to you.

You open your eyes a smidge, peering through your lashes at the screen. Rhaena’s name and face light up Baela’s phone. A cute picture of her smiling holding a pale snake around her neck, its face pressed against hers with its pink-forked tongue tickling her cheek.

“Bae,” you murmur, nudging your friend. She groans, turning to face you, peering at her phone. Rhaena’s face disappears as the call remains unanswered.

“She probably wants to go on a run or something,” Baela mumbles, “Or try to guilt me into a family beach trip.”

Rhaena calls again and Baela lets out an irritated whine.

She slides a finger over the screen, and Rhaena appears on the screen. Her violet eyes are wide, and it looks like she has just woken up as well; a pink silk bonnet hides her silver locs.

“What d’you want?” Baela mumbles at her sister.

“Get up,” Rhaena says, in a half whisper, “Get up, get up, and get to Dragonstone!”

“Ew. No,” Baela says, scrunching her nose in distaste, “Why?”

“Dudes, you need to get over hear,” Helaena’s voice is heard offscreen. Baela’s head rises from her pillow and she grabs the phone, angling it so you can see.

“Hel there?” Baela asks, as more voices can begin to be heard in the background. You share a confused glance with Baela.

“You want some drama?” Helaena snickers, coming into the frame and squeezing her face next to Rhaena’s. Shouting echoes from the room they’re in. Baela glances at you again, with a ‘what the fuck?’ expression on her face.

“.....your fault you fucking psycho!” Luke’s voice rings, breaking as though he may be crying through his yells.

Baela’s eyes widen and she glances at you, scooting closer so you can both peer over her phone.

“Maybe if you paid better attention you wouldn’t have-” Aemond’s voice carries through the speaker, a taunting, musical quality to the words he speaks.

“What the fuck?” Baela says, muting herself, “What the fuck are they talking about?”

You can hear the arguing in the background, and see Helaena grab the phone from Rhaena, smiling at you and Baela before shoving it in her pocket. You can hear the muffled conversation.

“You’re blaming me? Seriously? You came outta fucking nowhere in that old piece of shi-” Luke chokes on the words, “That ship is fucking huge!”

“You shouldn’t have been out in the stupid little dingy anyway,” Aemond’s voice carries, and you feel your face begin to burn with anger at his condescending tone directed at Luke.

“It’s too fucking late in the season-”

“Use Vermax-

“No way my trip!” Jace’s voice barely carries through, “You’re not TOUCHING my boat-”

“Shut up!”

Baela unmutes herself then.

“Rhae!” she calls, “Hel!”

Helaena’s hand enters her pocket, and she brings the phone to her face. She motions to Rhaena as the yelling continues, moving to a different room.

“What the fuck are they talking about?” you ask when the yelling has quieted down.

“Aemond sank Luke’s boat last night,” Rhaena tells you, “It’s completely destroyed. Unsalvageable.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, lips parting in shock. Baela lets out a laugh in disbelief.

“He sunk Luke’s boat? Why would he do that?” you ask and Baela rolls her eyes.

“Please, we’re lucky he didn’t kill him,” she argues, and Helaena laughs.

“Don’t count your eggs before they’ve hatched cuz,” Hel murmurs, “It’s a bloodbath in there.”

“They’ve got another boat he can sail, don’t they?” Baela asks.

“I don’t think so,” Rhaena says, shaking her head, “Unless you’re talking about..”

“I mean…..that’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Baela interrupts. The twins are silent for a moment until Helaena speaks.

“Okay, I'm usually great at reading the room, but even I’m lost,” she says, and you laugh.

“Me too, Hel,” you tell her.

Baela sits up in bed sighing dramatically.

“Bring Jace and Luke, meet us at Hulls in an hour,” she instructs.

Rhaena agrees and you end the call. You watch Baela carefully, her expression is grim.

“What’s at Hull?” you ask curiously.

“My uncle’s boat,” she tells you, “Seasmoke.”

Turns out Hull was referring to a person rather than a place. Well, two people. Addam and Alyn Hull, two brothers who manage a boat rental service on Driftmark. When you and Baela arrive at the docks you’re greeted by a weathered sign that reads Hull Boat Rentals.

Luke, Jace, and Rhaena are there when you arrive. Luke’s eyes are red, along with his nose. He’s clearly been crying for most of the morning. Jace looks furious beside him and Rhaena smiles tentatively as you approach.

Baela pulls Luke into a hug immediately, and the younger boy wraps his arms around her.

“I’m glad you’re okay, but I’m sorry about Arrax,” Baela tells him, squeezing him tightly.

Luke mumbles his thanks and Baela releases him. She glances around the dock, looking at the boats lined up, rocking gently with each passing wave.

“I called Addam,” Rhaena tells her, “He’s still got some options, and Seasmoke too if that’s what we’re thinking.”

“I don’t know…” Luke says, eyes watery, “Maybe we can look around?”

“Of course, we can,” Jace agrees.

You’re greeted by Addam Hull a few minutes later; he’s a strapping young guy in jean cutoffs and a white tank top that’s seen better days. He’s covered in sweat and grease but that doesn’t dull the award-winning smile he’s got on his face.

“We’ve got a lot of options still,” Addam assures Luke, “Mostly our older schooners. Not many people rent for the regatta.”

Luke’s crestfallen expression remains as you view the available boats. You love how each one has its own name, its own personality really. Luke spends extra time on one called Grey Ghost but shakes his head when Addam asks if he likes it.

“I think we should look at…” Jace trails off. Luke frowns deeply, as though he was trying to avoid the situation.

“I’ve been taking good care of it,” Addam says softly to Luke.

“Okay,” Luke decided, “Let’s see it.”

Seasmoke is a massive sailboat, bigger than the ones you’ve seen so far. The hull is painted a pale silver-gray that reflects the light from the top of the water. It’s missing the mainsail, and seems to have been used for storage rather than sailing for the last several years.

Luke walks over to it, placing his hand on the hull. Barnacles have begun to take over and he runs his fingers along the rough surface.

“How long has she been out of commission?” Luke asks, and Addam shrugs.

“A while,” he tells him. Jace shares a concerned glance with Baela. Luke sighs, dropping his hand from the hull. Jace walks up next to him.

“Remember when Dad took us out for the first time? How we ended up in the Stepstones?” Jace says, smiling at his brother. Luke chuckles slightly.

“I remember you peeing your pants because he told us there were pirates that would get us,” Luke says with a smirk.

“It wasn’t funny!” Jace argues and you can’t help but laugh along with them. It's the first time Luke has smiled today. It wavers slightly as he looks at Seasmoke again.

You can’t imagine what’s going on in his head. It sounds like no one has sailed Seasmoke since Laenor left town. Even though you know there’s history there, that Rhaenyra had an affair with Harwin Strong, it sounds like Laenor was truly their dad. Luke’s eyes are melancholic, and he touches the hull again.

“Okay,” he says softly, “We’ll use Seasmoke.”

You slap the mop against the deck of the ship watching the water spread and turn brown almost immediately. Sheesh. This is going to be a lot of work. Luke sits miserably on the edge of the boat, his head hanging. Rhaena sits next to him, bumping her shoulder against his. He had hope in the beginning, but as the hours ticked by he became more frustrated with the large task at hand.

“It’s pointless,” Luke says softly, sniffling and rubbing his nose, “It’s going to take too long… it's not worth it.” He shakes his head, eyes trained on the deck.

“With our help, it’ll get done faster than you think,” Rhaena insists, “And then you can practice and everything will be fine.”

Luke shakes his head, unconvinced. “We need sails. Fuck- I don’t even think they make the kind Dad used…with that stupid…what’s it called? For the jib?” He sighs again. Rhaena glances at you and you begin to chew your lower lip.

“Whatever you need, Luke,” you tell the younger boy, “We’ve got your back.”

Even Helaena had joined to help assist Luke with prepping Seasmoke. She’d come dressed in overalls, hair pulled out of her face ready to get to work.

“I can call Iron Islands,” Jace tells him, “Place an order for the sails, they have all that shit.”

“That’s hours away,” Luke moans, placing his head in his hands, “And who knows if they have any left, it’s prime sailing season-”

“Mr. Negative!” Helaena chastises, “What don’t you understand?” She walks over to squat in front of him, placing a comforting hand on his knee, “We’ve got this Luke. You worry about driving this bad boy, we’ll worry about the rest.”

Jace smiles and then glances past you, a frown appearing on his face.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he mumbles, and you follow his gaze to someone walking down the dock.

Aemond comes into view and a familiar surge of anger rushes through you as you walk down the ramp and off of Seasmoke. Aemond slows his purposeful gait when he sees you, his lip curling upwards as he comes to a halt.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Came to see the damage,” he says.

“Haven’t you done enough?” you snap.

“It was an accident,” Aemond insists, “Not my fault the little twerp can’t sail.”

“You’re such a prick,” you tell him, “I hurt your ego that much, you go for attempted murder?”

“Luke can swim,” Aemond says with a shrug.

“You really don’t fucking feel bad, do you?” you ask in disbelief.

“As I said, an accident,” he says, continuing to walk by you.

“Where are you going?”

“Onto the boat.”

“Well don’t!”

“Like I want to be stuck with you all day,” he retorts, “Not my choice.”

Luke looks up as you come aboard, rolling his eyes.

“The fuck you want?” he snaps.

“Mom insisted,” Aemond says, looking around the deck, “This is the one you chose?”

“It was the best option,” Rhaena says, defending Luke.

Aemond purses his lips together, a smug smile creeping onto his face. “Interesting choice is all.”

“Why’s that?” Jace asks, squeezing his hands into fists by his side. Baela moves toward him, as Aemond shrugs.

“Let’s go start cleaning out the lower deck,” she encourages, pushing him toward the entrance. Jace disappears below deck and Baela grimaces at you.

Helaena walks over to her brother, who tosses her a tube of sunscreen. “Mom told me to bring you that,” he tells her, following her to the other side of the deck.

“Am I totally ruining your summer?” she asks, pouting at you. You can tell this was not what Baela had planned. But you can’t find it in you to feel anything but sympathy for Luke. It wasn’t his fault this happened.

“Not at all,” you assure her, “I want to help!”

Baela smiles, and even Luke looks up, sparing a small, pained smile.

The days tick by and though it doesn’t feel like it, you’re making some progress. Baela and Jace spent the majority of time clearing out below deck and Aemond (to avoid more confrontation) made himself useful focusing on scraping the barnacles off of the sides of Seasmoke.

Scrubbing the starboard bow with Baela, another girl joins you later in the week. She introduces herself as Sara Snow, a childhood friend of Baela and Rhaena’s. She’s also incredibly kind enough to bring you all lunch from the Wolf’s Den, her family’s restaurant a few blocks away. She even brings Aemond something, tossing him a takeaway bag that he stains with his grease-stained hands.

He doesn’t join you on deck to each, choosing to sit by himself on the dock. Jace joined a solemn Luke below deck.

“I cannot believe he fucking did that,” Sara whispers, after hearing the whole story about what happened to Arrax, “The fucking nerve of that guy.”

“That’s Aem,” Helaena says, leaning her back against Sara’s, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of her nose. She reaches down her shirt revealing a tightly rolled joint, bringing it to her lips as she digs in her pockets looking for a lighter.

Sara opens her purse, finding one easily as Hel struggles, passing it back to her friend. Hel murmurs a thank you around the joint before lighting it.

“Has he always been like this?” you ask, unable to help yourself. Aemond Targaryen gets under your skin.

“Like what?” Hel says, coughing slightly, passing the lit joint to Baela. She takes a long drag, closing her eyes.

“Like an ass,” you clarify and Helaena chuckles.

Sara smirks, something you don’t fail to notice.

“What?” you ask and she shakes her head.

“I don’t know what happened to him, to be honest,” Sara tells you, “Back in high school, Aemond was just like this nerdy guy. Always polite, even on the verge of sweet.”

Baela nods in agreement.

“Then he goes off to college and comes back a total prick,” she says, reaching for a french fry, “I mean, he’s always been a bit of a prick but he switched it up to being a complete douche.”

“And that whole thing with Floris…” Sara says, raising her eyebrows.

“They’re not doing that anymore,” you tell them, and they all stare, “I kind of walked into the middle of their breakup.”

Sara snorts out a laugh.

“Aemond doesn’t date,” Sara clarifies, “He took a page from Aegon’s book.”

“Ew,” Rhaena says, shuddering. She shakes her head as Baela offers her the joint. Sara plucks it from her fingers, taking a drag.

“At least Aegon doesn’t shit where he eats,” Helaena defends, “He keeps his drama away from King’s Landing.”

“Remember when he was with Cece Lannister?” Sara says, still on her Aemond train of thought, “Man, that was dramatic.”

Helaena groans. “Please don’t mention Cece. Mom is still trying to regrow the rose bushes she set on fire,” she says, shaking her head.

Your eyes widen.

“She set your house on fire?”

“Just the rose bushes,” Helaena assures. Unsurprisingly, this fact doesn’t comfort you.

“You wanna know what I heard?” Sara says, handing you the joint.

You’ve smoked before, casually, throughout your time at college. You nod, encouraging Sara to continue, placing the joint between your lips and inhaling the sweet smoke.

“I heard he had an orgy with all the Baratheon girls,” Sara says, lowering her voice considerably.

Helaena slams her hands over her ears and begins screaming, you jump in surprise at the sudden high-pitched sound. You cough, the joint nearly slipping from your fingers as you double over. Rhaena’s jaw is on the floor and Baela is shaking her head violently.

“They’re sisters!” Rhaena hisses, trying to stop Helaena’s screams, “Biologically!”

“I’m just repeating what I heard!” Sara insists, covering her mouth and laughing.

“From who?”

“Qyle Martell.”

“Oh, the most reliable fucking narrator-”

“What’s going on?” Aemond calls from his spot on the dock.

Your laughter and screams stop abruptly as you all call back different versions of “nothing!” “Everything's fine!” and Helaena screaming, “You pervert!”

Aemond holds his hands out in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. He meets your eyes and you blush, hoping he doesn’t notice as you quickly avert your gaze.

After a few more hours and a quick swim to clean the sweat and grease from the work and you slip your extra sundress over your bathing suit, ready to head out for the day.

“Dinner?” Sara asks, “We can go to the Wolf Den.”

“We’ve had that nearly every day this week,” Baela moans.

“It's summer. We eat every meal there,” Sara insists, clasping her hands on Baela’s shoulders, “Besides, Y/N hasn’t been to the Wolf Den yet! She’s got to meet Cregan!”

Sara’s been telling you all about her brother; he seems nice. You’re all tired and too hungry to disagree so you head to the Wolf Den. Aemond narrows his eyes at Helaena, who nudges him with her shoulder.

“You’re as bad as Egg,” she teases, and his eyes narrow.

“Why?” Aemond asks, a frown playing on his lips.

“I’ve heard rumors about you little bro,” she says and shudders dramatically, “Rumors a sister should not be hearing about her little brother. Ew.” Helaena sticks her tongue out, pretending to gag.

Aemond’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What do you mean?” he asks but Helaena shakes her head.

“I’m not repeating what I heard! What, am I, a gossip now?” Helaena says, feigning offense with a hand over her chest. Aemond purses his lips and continues arguing with her as they walk ahead of you.

The Wolf Den is on the mainland, and with Seasmoke in no condition to sail, you pile onto Vermax; though Aemond leaves on another side of the docks. You don’t see where he goes, but when you ask Helaena she merely shrugs.

“He’s not getting on a boat with Luke again,” she tells you, “But he’ll probably come through to the Wolf Den. Dude’s gotta eat.”

After a gentle trip across Blackwater Bay, Helaena offers to drive you all in her light blue convertible. The Wolf’s Den is cute; the outer deck is decorated with twinkling multicolored string lights. It’s right on the water, and the music can be heard from outside. Sara ushers you in and you see the appeal right away.

High ceilings, a generous amount of tables, and a dance floor in the middle of the room. Paper lanterns hang from the ceiling rafters, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow. It's warm and cozy and inviting. The bartender, a big beefy guy with a thick beard, waves at Sara. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt decorated with wolves wearing sunglasses, and lounging on the beach.

“Sup sis,” he says as you walk over to the bar with her, “Woah, no kids at the bar please, we’ve been through this.” Luke frowns dramatically at him. So this must be Cregan.

“Even if I’m sad?” he asks, jutting out his lower lip.

“You still 17?” Cregan asks, and Luke opens his mouth to protest, “Yeah, no. Grab that booth over there.”

Luke mumbles something under his breath, but Jace clasps a hand on his shoulder, turning him away from the bar. Rhaena goes to join them as they head to claim a booth.

“Sup Jace,” Cregan calls, and Jace glances over his shoulder. His cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink as he says hello. Sara scoots into a chair, motioning for you to sit. You do, Baela sliding next to you.

“What’re you drinking?” Cregan asks, smiling warmly at you, “I’m Cregan, by the way.” He offers his hand you take it, feeling the rough calluses as he engulfs your hand in his.

“Y/N,” you tell him, with a smile, “And umm is there something you recommend?”

Cregan releases your hand, nodding appreciatively. “The Winter Rose, if you trust me. It’s our current special.”

“I’ll do that,” you tell him.

“A risk taker, I like it,” he says, grabbing a shaker, “Ladies?”

“We’ll make it easy for you Stark, we’ll have the same,” Baela answers for herself and Sara. You look around the Wolf Den, just as Aemond walks through the door. You catch his eye briefly, before looking away, exhaling. Helaena notices, slipping off her stool to greet her brother. You can’t help but watch, noticing he’s joined by the same man from last week who he played tennis with.

As Cregan slides your drinks in front of you, Baela notices your distraction. She follows your gaze.

“Criston Cole,” she says, nodding to Aemond’s friend, “A friend of Alicent’s.” Aemond, Criston, and Helaena choose a table to sit at, on the opposite side of the room than Luke’s. It's deliberate, the choosing of sides. Even under the guise of working together on Seasmoke, the tension is palpable in the Wolf Den.

You spend most of the evening chatting and sharing drinks and food with Sara and Baela. They have the funniest stories about growing up together; spending summers between King’s Landing and Driftmark. They met with Sara and Cregan had moved to King’s Landing from Winterfell after the death of their father.

“Baela was my hero,” Sara told you, “I came to school, my first day at a new school, wearing my dire wolf slippers.” She bites her lips, “Kids started teasing me, calling me wolf girl. Baela punched 3 kids in their noses.”

“Friends ever since,” Baela says, smiling widely, before insisting you have to hit the dance floor, at least once this evening. One song turns into five, and soon you’re having the time of your life in the middle of the dance floor.

After a while, you slide up to the bar, ordering water, leaning your palms against the counter. You’re a tad tipsy, that perfect buzz where you feel incredibly warm, and your palms have started to tingle.

Cregan hands you your water, before attending to other patrons. You hold the glass against your bare sternum, relishing the feeling of the cool condensation on your skin. You dip your fingers into the cup, removing an ice cube and sliding it over your collarbone, and around the back of your neck.

“Having fun?” you’d know that snarky voice anywhere. Aemond slides up next to you, leaning against the bar. His eye tracks a drop of water that runs down your chest, before disappearing between your cleavage.

You bring the ice cube to your lips, rubbing them against it.

“Yup,” you murmur around it, not really sure why he’s making small talk with you.

The ice cube has nearly melted, so you hold it against the back of your neck once more.

“Hot?” Aemond murmurs. You glance up at him.

“What?” you ask.

“You’re hot?” he asks again, motioning to the ice cube.

“I was dancing,” you tell him.

“I saw,” he says, lip curling upwards.

“Do you have a problem with me?” you ask, the liquor giving you courage, “I’ve been nothing but nice to you-”

“You ruined a family heirloom the first day I met you,” Aemond interrupts, tapping his long fingers against the bar.

“That was an accident,” you tell him, again, but your cheeks bloom with blush regardless.

Aemond smiles at that, eye flickering over your face.

“Your flower boy ask you out yet?” Aemond asks, quickly changing the subject.

“Flower boy?” you ask, until you realize he’s referring to Will, “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he tells you, raising a brow, “Just curious. It gets dull around here.”

“The thrill from sinking teenage boys' boats only lasts so long, huh?” you tell him, turning to face him. Shit, he’s tall. You’re forced to look up at him through your lashes. Aemond turns slightly, leaning one hand against the bar as he smirks down at you.

“I’ll have to find something else to entertain me,” he agrees, tilting his head.

“Heard you don’t have a problem with that,” the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them. Goddamn, it. Baela once told you your mouth would be the death of you. Sometimes you just can’t seem to stop your thoughts.

“What’s that mean?” Aemond asks with a shimmer of curiosity in his eye.

“Nothing,” you tell him, shaking your head, “Stop talking to me.”

“The mouth on you,” Aemond says, shaking his head, “You’re being rather rude.”

Your jaw slacks, eyes widening. “I’m being rude? You’re the one being rude!” you tell him.

“How so?” he inquires, a puzzled expression crossing his features. You scowl at him.

“You’re just trying to be an ass,” you tell him, shaking your head, “You know, I’m a very nice person. We could have been friends.”

“You and I are not going to be friends,” Aemond says, voice lowering an octave. He looks at you intensely and you feel warmth creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks. You break away from his gaze, taking a sip of your water.

“Sara was fucking lying,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him.

Aemond brings his lower lip between his teeth. You can tell, he’s genuinely curious about what information you have on him.

“About….?” he asks.

Your cheeks are blazing with heat, but you decide to call him out.

“About you and Floris,” you say, placing your glass on the counter, “And her siblings? Sounds a little incestuous to me.”

Aemond’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. You reach for your drink again, needing something to do with your hands.

“Oh?” he says, pursing his lips. He hums slightly, gazing at you.

“I didn’t believe it,” you tell him, sipping your drink, “Four girls is a lot to handle.”

“It’s surprisingly easy when you know what you’re doing,” Aemond answers casually.

You nearly choke, but manage to compose yourself as he watches you carefully. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Your mind drifts to Floris, the conversation you overheard. To Cece Lannister burning rose bushes. You swallow the lump forming in your throat. You can’t help your curiosity. Aemond somehow had them wrapped around his finger.

“Yeah right,” you tell him, laughing slightly, “You’re all talk.”

You’re baiting him slightly, but you don’t care.

“You wanna find out?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Your breath catches as he leans forward, bending slightly to your height. Aemond brings his face next to yours, you can feel the tip of his nose drag across your cheek. Instinctively, your eyes flutter shut.

“There’s a bathroom right down the hall,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, “Give me ten minutes and I’ll show you what all that talks about.”

Holy shit.

You were not expecting that reaction.

“I’m not fucking you in the bathroom,” you hiss, pushing your hand against his chest. You can’t think with his breath against your ear.

“Wherever you want,” he tells you, grabbing your wrist. His touch is like fire, as he rubs his thumb along the smooth skin of your inner wrist. Goosebumps form on your arms and you have to suppress a slight whimper.

Girl, get it together. You’re tipsy that’s all. It's just the alcohol and a hot guy, nothing more. It doesn’t help that the last time you got laid was a one-night stand months ago that left you on read when you reached out the next day.

“Wha-what?” you ask him, eyes wide.

“Name the place,” he says, “And time. I’m very punctual.”

You blink, not believing what you’re hearing.

��You’re not serious-”

“I am though,” he says, pursing his lips, “You tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

You stare at him in disbelief before shaking your head.

“You don’t even like me-”

“So?”

Anger surges through you, along with a sharp sting of humiliation. Your lips turn down in a frown.

“You’re beautiful,” Aemond says, shocking you like a slap to the face, “Clearly intelligent. I don’t see why we can’t help each other out.”

“What are you even talking about?” you ask in bewilderment.

“A friends-with-benefits situation,” Aemond answers, honestly.

“You’re not even my friend! You said so yourself!” you tell him, a shaky laugh leaving your lips.

“We can change the name of the arrangement if that’s your hesitation,” Aemond assures you.

“If you’re looking for a fuckbuddy, call Floris,” you tell him.

“That door is closed,” he tells you and you blink in disbelief. He’s speaking so clinically, in such a detached manner.

Jesus Christ, who hurt this guy?

“Well then take your pick of the other Baratheon girls!” you encourage, “I’m not interested!”

“You keep telling yourself that,” he says, smirking, “You know where to find me.”

You hurry away from the bar, and back onto the dancefloor with Baela, Sara, Helaena, and Rhaena. They greet you with open arms and pull you into a dance. You glance back at the bar where Aemond still stands, watching you as he leans against the bar.

You meet his eye, feeling warmth pool in your lower belly. No fucking way. Not this prick. You’re not that down bad for a summer fling. And plus, you have options! Will Tyrell seems like a nice guy! And Driftmark is a big island. So is King’s Landing. Anyone can be your summer fling.

Anyone but him.

note: is it.....getting warm in here? just me? okay bye hehe

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected

OLS Taglist: @talesofoldandnew, @diannnnsss, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @atherverybest, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @moonlightfoxx, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @sahvlren, @muthafuckingstargirl @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #modern!aemond #modern!hotd #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #aemond/reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fic

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angelkissiies · 1 year

Text

pancakes for dinner

abby anderson x reader

cw : love confessions , anxiety , hockey!abby , girly!reader (glitter n pink fan) , modern!au

wc : 2.5 (HOW DID IT GET THIS LONG)

a / n : i never meant for this to be so long but i adore a love confession n hockey!abby ,, anyways ! enjoy ! also if you see grammatical issues SQUINT i didnt proofread this !!!

based off of emotions i get from THIS song ,, and some ugly dude being mean to abs on twitter ..

You stared down at the blank sheets of paper, fluffy fountain pen twirling in between your fingers as you let your playlist restart. You had so much to say, that you almost didn’t couldn’t find a way to say it, the itching anxiety pulling at your heart as you glanced at the clock. ‘7:38 PM’. Her flight was landing in a couple hours, you internally kicked yourself for waiting so long, but finally made the first move to start writing.

‘Bee, Abby,

This seems extremely silly right now and I kinda want to throw up at the idea of you actually seeing this’

You let out a sigh, striking out the line before continuing.

‘I need you to know some things, some things I've been meaning to tell you for, well, forever. We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember and as much as I don't want to risk losing that, I can’t not tell you. I’ve been very clear about my sexuality and you’ve been so supportive of me– but I can't let you set me up with any more of your hockey friends (you’re probably wondering why this is soo important but just keep reading.)

Don’t get me wrong, Nora was a lovely date– opened the car door for me and everything, but it just wasn’t right. I know you and as you’re reading this you’re probably shaking your head and muttering something about ‘you just didn’t give her a chance,’ but just stay with me here.

I have gone on dates and I have tried all the dating apps, I’ve even had my fair share of hookups–

but Abby, I can’t stop thinking about you.

From the day I met you, I think I've always known. You have been all I've wanted and I really understood that this year, I mean seeing you hooking up with all of those girls made me jealous– as stupid as it sounds, and no, It wasn’t because they were prettier than me or something, but it was because they had you.’

Your stomach churned as you halted, taking an unsteady breath, your finger moving to skip the song that had come on– ‘Heather’ by Conan Gray being in bad taste for the moment. You had the urge to rip the paper apart, hiding all evidence of the confession of your love, and nestle into your bunk bed– waiting for the inevitable knock on your door when she arrived back, begging to chat about her travels. Though, you remained still– chewing on the flesh of your lip before forcing yourself to continue.

‘I’m saying this now because I fear, if not now then never. Your absence gave me a chance to figure out my feelings about you without worrying about you accidentally finding out. I needed to overcome my fear of losing you and came to realize that I can't, so writing this all out is seriously freaking me out. ‘

A ringing from your phone made you jump, the music pausing briefly as you checked the caller ID, the air caught in your lungs as you realized who it was. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” You chanted, staring at the little picture of her that accompanied the tense ringing in the now quiet room. ‘Shit!” You huffed, at last, letting your finger swipe across the screen to accept before placing her on speaker.

“Hey!” Her groggy voice rang out, accompanied by the loud bustle of what sounded like a crowd. “Did I wake you up or something?”

You let out a small, confused noise before answering– hand shaking slightly. “No, no. Just doing some work. What about you, you sound like shit.” You teased, taking a deep breath to gain your composure. The last thing you needed was to queue her on to anything, letting her remain clueless for as long as you possibly could.

Abby snorted, rolling her eyes as she pulled her heavy suitcase behind her through the crowds of people. “No, just tired, they managed to get us on an earlier plane at the last minute– I had planned to sleep all day before the flight but surprise, surprise.” She hummed, watching as her team slowly began to disappear out of the double doors. “Anyways, because I'm getting back so early, I wanted to see if you’d be up for a movie tonight.”

You felt time slow down, eyes shooting to the unfinished letter on your desk, you could barely find it in yourself to respond– feeling borderline dizzy at the rapid thumping of your heart, “Y-yeah, that sounds great. What are we watching?” She wasn’t supposed to be back for hours, and now you're getting told that she was already here? That you had to finish your declaration of love, now?!

“I was thinking we could see that new avatar movie, what was it called?”

“Way of water.” You spoke quietly, putting your pen down so hard on the sheet of paper– you were almost sure it was gonna rip. “That sounds great, when will you be here? I need to get ready.” Your pen began scribbling down the rest of your thoughts, handwriting less neat than it had been before. You didn’t know if you cared though, the thought of being caught in the middle of doing this was more mortifying than being articulate.

“Say..” Abby trailed off, pulling up her hoodie sleeve to peer at her watch. 8:20 PM. “Does 8:45 sound good? Airports not far from campus.”

You could’ve choked, forcing yourself to nod– even though she couldn’t see you. “Yeah, perfect. I’ll meet you downstairs, I’m sure you wanna change.”

“Finally, a girl who gets me.” She joked, pushing the double doors open, and glancing around for the team bus. A chill rolled down her spine as she pushed the varsity jacket closed, blocking any more chill. “I've gotta go, I'm getting on the bus– but I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon!”

You practically threw the pen down, doing a quick once over of the letter before folding it neatly– placing it inside its designated pink envelope. Your heart was racing, making you sweat slightly, as you slid out from your chair. You’d planned this all out so perfectly, yet, here you were– sliding on your crocs as you exited your dorm in an attempt to make this confession as seamless as possible. You were terrified of the possibility of her saying she didn’t feel the same, terrified that she wouldn't want to be friends anymore, terrified that she was still in love with her ex. Just terrified.

The hallway passed in flashes, your mind too preoccupied to take in anything else as you speed walked to her door. It was as it usually was, empty, with the exception that her roommate had drawn a little moth in the corner of the whiteboard next to the number indicator. She was a neat girl, Ellie, but it always confused you at how they’d come to be assigned together– seeing as Abby was majoring in sports medicine and Ellie in physics. You shook the thoughts away, practically beating down the door with how hard you knocked.

A few moments passed and you heard the soft pattering of feet on the carpet before the door swung open, a very disgruntled girl standing before you. “Dude, I literally have an exam tomorrow, what do you want?” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. From all the times she'd met you, she was used to the intrusion– almost finding it funny how often you came by. “Abby isn’t here.”

You nodded, pushing the envelope forward, watching as she looked at it and then back at you. “Can you put this on her bed? Just leave it there, that's all.” You gushed, glancing at the digital clock on her desk before dropping it into her now outstretched hand. 8:33 PM. “I have to go, so just please make sure she gets it okay?” Your feet were already moving, taking large backward steps into the hall before turning on your heel– leaving a slightly confused, slightly curious Ellie peering down the hall as you disappeared around the corner.

The door to your dorm was still slightly ajar, making it easier for you to slip back in and begin changing out of your – what you’d begun to call – lesbian pajamas. The reason was that they had little hearts in varying shades of pink and orange dotting the fabric. By the time you’d had a chance to even pull on your shoes, It was already pushing 8:40PM– meaning that any second Abby would be passing your dorm to go change and you’d be practically bouncing off the walls with pent-up anxiety.

Abby trudged up the stairwell, making a mental note to email the maintenance guys about the elevator, her suitcase hovering just above to not smack against the concrete. She tossed her braid over her shoulder, using her free hand to push the metal door open, stepping out into the warmth of the hallway. A soft sigh left her mouth as she paused, eyes fluttering to the door that bore your name in glitter peel-and-stick letters, a small smile pulling at her chapped lips– internally debating on stopping to talk to you, but coming to the conclusion that she’d just come back in a couple minutes. It always popped into her mind, upon thinking about you, she practically had to drag herself away from you to get anything done.

As she passed by your door, she heard soft music– particularly a song she’d heard many, many times before. It made her heart skip slightly, upon the realization that you’d actually started listening to the songs she recommended, that being more than a small victory in her books. She glanced up at your whiteboard, it being pretty empty besides the few hearts you’d forgotten to erase from valentines day, before uncapping a marker to leave a tiny drawing of two girl stick figures in the mass of hearts.

You were lying face down on your pillows, biting back the screams that tempted your lips as you waited for the alarm on your phone to sound– the idea of seeing Abby making your stomach twist into uncomfortable knots. The words of ‘Pancakes for Dinner’ by Lizzy Mcalpine permeated your thoughts, making you sigh aloud, she made it seem so easy. Too easy. You just wanted to say all of what you were feeling to her, see her face when she realized, and know instantly whether or not your friendship was over. The waiting made it all so much worse. You sat up, lifting your phone just as the annoying beeping started, making you groan.

The music stopped as you swiped off of the app, pulling yourself up to sit on the edge of your bed– sliding your crocs over the pink fluffy socks you’d slipped on in spite of the dropping temperatures. “You can do this. You can definitely do this.” You whispered, coming to stand before grabbing the dorm keys from your bedside table. You couldn’t back out now, though you desperately wanted to, shuffling out of your room and into the hallway– already missing the comfort of your room.

Ellie had greeted Abby at the door, the realization of the letter finally clicking in her head, an annoying smug grin on her lips. It was beyond confusing for the blonde, giving her an odd look as she let her suitcase fall on the floor in front of her bed. “What is wrong with you?” She finally asked, digging through her drawer, feeling the auburns eyes burning a hole into the back of her head. “You’re being weird, er, weirder than usual.”

“Nothing, nothing. You have, uh, mail.” She coughed, covering a small chuckle, turning back to her computer as she sat down– keeping an eye on the pink envelope sitting perfectly on the dark surface of her bedspread.

Abby knitted her brows together, following the girl's gaze to an envelope she automatically recognized as yours. How did she know? Well, you were the only girl on campus who used pink envelopes and she didn’t think that another could have manifested in the short time she was away. She instantly lost all interest in what she was doing, practically tripping over her bags to get to it. “Did she say what it was about?” She asked, turning the little thing in her hands, noticing the little star sticker you’d used to seal the envelope.

Ellie shook her head, putting her hands up as if to say ‘i dunno’ before looking back down to her work– leaving Abby to tear open the pink paper hastily.

You sat outside on the bench, tapping the toes of your shoe onto the pavement as you waited, jumping at every noise of the door– hoping, praying, that she even came. It had been so long since you’d felt this kind of scared, less schoolgirl more double homicide, as you pondered what could possibly come of this. The best case scenario being she felt the same way, and the worst case scenario was that she hated your guts and went around telling everyone that you were just some weird girl with a crush on her– that wasn’t likely though, seeing as that wasn't Abby. She’d never be so harsh. The reality was that she’d let you down easy, slowly but surely ghosting you in the process. You didn’t know what scared you more, good or bad news.

The loud squeaking of the hinges drove you from your thoughts, making you glance behind you, a strained breath catching in your throat as you saw her– glancing around before she saw you. “Abby, hey,--” You began, standing to meet her in the middle, hands wringing nervously behind you.

The blonde didn’t speak, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks, dipping down to press a needy kiss to your lips. Nothing had ever been so important, the letter being more than enough to send her practically flying out of her dorm to find you, she’d been waiting for the day she’d come to admit her feelings out loud– though as she felt you melt into her, hands now bunched in her jacket, she knew words were unnecessary. You’d been what she wanted this entire time, all the girls and the parties and the one-night stands being in spite of her budding feelings. She’d been trying to get you off her mind, protecting the friendship that meant more than anything to her. Your words flashed through her mind, making her smile slightly against your lips.

You pulled away, taking a much-needed gulp of air, before looking up at the burly woman. The light was blocked out by her head, making a kind of halo around her. She looked beautiful, she always looked beautiful, but this was different. “Abby..” You breathed, eyes meeting her own. “Are you–?”

Abby nodded, using her thumbs to caress the blushed flesh of your cheeks. “I am.”

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