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#makes sense like you would think each of us had NOTHING to do the next day with the way she fucked my brains out and left me a dripping mes
arlertwhore · 21 hours
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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader
synopsis: you try to breakup with paige, but she apologizes the right way.
warning (s): smut, strap, nasty makeout sesh, desperate p (on my knees for her yo), body licking, nipple sucking, ab riding, strap riding, overstim, hairpulling. think it’s all.
word count: like 4k or sum?
author note: GUYSSS SEND ME REQQ im runnin outta ideas but they’re helping fr — omgosh i was kinda lazy w this one but 🤷‍♀️ we’re done soo enjoy!! Unedited again, based off req again, and written very late (again)
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For a while now, Paige had sensed things were starting to change between you guys, but she never realized the full extent of it until you were laid out before her, prepared for her to claim what she'd rightfully believed belonged to her and just her.
In that moment and the moments that followed, she'd become immensely startled at how susceptible she'd become to the clear break from casuality your actions unintentionally endorsed. You most likely hadn't seen it that way -- you'd always harbored a tiny figurative crush on Paige from the beginning which you had confided in her friends about.
Paige was also well aware, notioned by your behavior during sex. You consistently praised her for being 'so fucking hot' and would go on fuck-drunk-tangets about how attractive you found her, or you'd occasionally steal a kiss from her whenever her lips were momentarily unoccupied during your hookups. She found your excitement endearing and trusted your ability to turn it off outside of the bedroom, which you always did. But for the first time ever, truly ever since you guys had fucked, which was countless times now, you had let your emotions overcome you, and you had kissed Paige in a way that was incredibly intimate, meant for real lovers.
Due to her occasional tiredness that sometimes prohibited the girl from leaving, she had spent the night, and the morning after, when you had both woke up interwined, naked with your bodies against each-other, you gave her a telling gaze before foolishly pressing your perfect lips against hers in a way that didn't require a genius in strictly physical relationships to realize that wasn't the moment for a kiss.
One thing about Paige, though, was that she couldn't ever resist you. She hated knowing so and wanted to fix it. In the same way you had a silly crush on her, she always held a small amount of an irrestible infatuation with you. If she didn't want to do something, Paige always managed to stop herself, but with you, she could never regain control or resist certain instances at particular times.
As most casual partners did, you two never kissed without it leading somewhere, and you were both aware of the limited time you guys had.
Yet, you spent a significant portion of that dwindling time passionately making out in bed like lovers, not pausing for a single moment to even catch your breath. It was undeniably intimate, passionate, and emotional, yet to Paige, it felt like another mistake, this time on your end. She knew you were very smart but chose to give you the benefit of the doubt. Due to her budding feelings, she chose to believe it could've just been her misreading the signs of the kiss and it could've been normal, just you being overly excited on accident, which happened to the best of us.
It could've even been you savoring your last moments with her before life resumed again.
You had been busy working and going to group study dates with your friends while Paige and her team traveled a city over to train at a renowned studio before their big game on the weekend, meaning she'd be gone until the next Tuesday, a week from your morning together.
It had been Thursday, a good ways through the week until Paige returned and until you had your off day booked, but you guys had not texted or called despite both thinking of each-other lots. All your friends, who previously didn't care about Paige, believing her to be nothing but a douchey-player-skeeze, finally cared enough to listen to your loss of virginity story. Every detail, from the precise strokes she gave you to her entranced demeanor at the state she'd left you in and the morning after story made them recognize the intensity and intimacy in the situation.
Some of them believed that Paige was breaking from her usual behavior, what they called her many 'laws', because she was starting to seriously like you, but the others thought it had been the opposite way around. They said she had gotten what she wanted from you and was done, seeing no point in caring about her rules at the end of the road. From the beginning of your involvement with her, they warned you that it was a trap designed to make you develop feelings before she eventually lived up to her player reputation and broke the heart of an innocent, never-before-loved girl. This topic sparked a heated debate among your friends, who relished the opportunity for debate. As they argued about whether Paige had fallen in or out of love, a grave realization hit you like a ton of bricks.
Before Paige settled down with you only, a choice she made on the basis of you being the only girl she was seeing who wasn't stress, drama, or complications, she was always transparent about her weekends after big games. If she had chosen to stay where the game was hosted for the weekend instead of coming back home to relax after a busy week, it meant she was getting with other girls. ou weren't by any means dumb. Paige was going to leave you; not for any of the debated reasons, but because she had likely realized the intimacy long before you had and was now prepared to escape. The kiss you initiated was spontaneous, and Paige likely knew this, choosing to begin a subtle breakaway. She'd start by making it clear she would be with other girls, not calling or texting, thus ghosting you, hoping your smart self would catch the hint.
And boy, you had. You broke down. On the kitchen floor, all your moments with Paige, starting from the beginning, replayed in your head in a loop. You remembered when you first met at the party, the way she looked at you, and how it felt when she kissed you. Then, there was the first time you two had sex. You recalled how nervous you were, and how she reassured you, alike the presumed, figurative and literal last time you had. You reflected on the first time you ever cried in front of her, upset at your grades and the first time she opened up to you about her struggles with wanting a normal life while also being committed to her career. It was a rare glimpse into her world, and it brought you closer together.
As these memories flooded your mind, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of longing and sadness for what was now lost.
Life had become unbearably stressful, and you found solace in Paige's company, perhaps subconsciously evading your stress by seeking her out. She was more than just a girl you were fucking ; she was a friend, someone you could turn to when you had no one else. But now, the prospect of experiencing her comfort again seemed uncertain, and you couldn't shake the feeling that it was all your fault for initiating this foolish ordeal in the first place. You were upset, feeling betrayed by Paige's sudden detachment. How could she just let you go like that? You felt dumb for ever believing she wasn't capable of it, despite her warnings. The exhaustion from juggling school, work, and studies had reached its tipping point, and you were overwhelmed by it all. Your thoughts swirled endlessly in a sea of self-doubt and despair. "My friends were right," you lamented. "How could I agree to getting used by her?" you cried out. Thoughts of your own perceived foolishness echoed in your mind. "I'm so dumb," you whispered to yourself, feeling like you had single-handedly ruined everything.
And in a fit of utter madness, you decided to text her, asking: ur stayin over the wknd? lmao i just realized that wtf? When an hour passed, her typical response span, you lashed out and texted: who are u fucking paige? All boldly. You never questioned it -- that was a rule. But who cared about breaking her rules at this point? You following them for this long had got you nothing but dumped and ignored like a piece of trash.
To your expentancy, Paige never replied and you texted her a long paragraph detailing your frustration with her. As you reached the end of your message, a sense of clarity washed over you. In a futile last attempt to take control of the situation, regardless of who said it first, with a heavy heart, you made the difficult decision to end things, recognizing that prolonging the pain was no longer an option.
Then, you got up, got dressed, and went to the gym. There, you released all your pent-up energy and had a chance to focus on yourself. Needless to say, you slept soundly after letting your emotions out, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders at chosing to prioritize your own well-being.
Paige's morning (and night) was a stark contrast to yours. While you wept, she was getting with a UCONN cheerleader after hours and drunk out of her fucking mind. She woke up at the side of a random girl while expriencing the worst hangover she had ever had, unable to recall the events of the previous night.
She stumbled from an Uber to her dorm house, feeling disoriented and sick. Upon returning home, Azzi noticed her state and confiscated her phone to retrace her night, only to discover a barrage of texts from you. Paige spent the next two days sleeping off her hangover, feeling utterly drained. On Sunday, when the rest of the team returned home, they staged an intervention for Paige.
They expressed concern about her drinking habits and advised her to focus on her career rather than letting a girl consume her thoughts. They warned her against reconciling with you, citing your recent breakup and her drinking as red flags. Paige felt confused and defensive as her team confronted her about the relationship. She argued that there was nothing wrong with it and denied being as invested as they claimed. However, when they pointed out evidence of her attachment to you, including her lock-screen, her taking your virginity, and the videos of you she frequently watched without caring for being caught, she felt defeated. It was at that moment, when her world seemed to be pushing you two apart, that Paige discovered you had initiated the push yourself. She felt the same heartache and confusion you had felt the day before. Despite trying to maintain a facade of indifference, she couldn't deny the impact the situation was having on her. Despite her efforts to focus on training, playing, and studying, thoughts of you consumed her late at night, leaving her feeling torn and emotionally drained.
She knew it was probably wrong to do so, but once again, she gave you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps you were going through stuff or maybe it was just a momentary lapse in judgmental. There was no way you truly meant to end things and this rebellion was very uncharacteristic of you. Paige felt the need to see you face-to-face, to observe your behavior and gauge if you were truly done with her, and if she was truly done with you as her friends suggested she should be. Plus, she had always emphasized the importance of speaking in person, so you should have known to expect her at your door on Tuesday night.
Coincidentally, you had just ordered dinner, so when you heard the knock, you pulled open the door without hesitation and froze dead in your tracks at the sight of her.
"Hey," she half-smiled, awkwardly. This was bad. What the hell was she doing here? Deep down, you knew you were still tangled up inthe aftermath of your decision, but that didn't stop the instinctual yearning that surged within you at the sight of her. You hadn't even expected her to show up, stirring a potent mix of confusion and desire that pulsed through your veins and heart like a wildfire. As you stood there between your door-frame, silent, your body betraying you with insistent tingles and heated pulses to your clit, she continued. "I know I should've called or texted you back before showing up, but I've been in some shit," Paige confessed, her voice tinged with regret. "I just wanna talk." "You're right, Paige. You should've texted me back or called me. Your entire week away, why didn't you?" you pressed, voice sharp with frustration. A silence hung heavy in the air briefly before the girl scratched the nape of her neck, her demeanor embarrased. "I
was hungover," she admitted sheepishly. You nodded, your tongue poking at your cheek as you mulled over her response. "Alright, well, it's not my fault then, Paige. Goodnight," you stated firmly, intending to close the door. However, with her strength, she held it open as she insisted, "Don't be a bitch, y/n. You aren't this kinda girl." Against your will, the door was opened fully. "No, Paige, you don't get to ignore me and then show up to fix things when you realize I'm not just some toy at your convience and that I can make choices in our situation too. Up until now, I've respected everything you've ever told me, so just this once, respect what I said to you," you asserted firmly.
Paige could have engaged in a heated debate with you, confident in her ability to outmaneuver your frustrations, but that wasn't her intention being there. She wasn't ready to lose you yet. "You're that mad at me? You wanna end everything?" she asked softly, her voice laced with a hint of vulnerability as she searched your eyes for an answer. You remained silent, averting your gaze from hers, which alone had spoken volumes. She sighed out, remorseful. "I'm sorry." This was a far cry from the Paige you'd begun with. At the start of it all, when she held all the power and you were simply the girl, she would have never uttered a straightforward apology. If she flaked on you and showed up later, she didn't apologize outright. Instead, she tended to offer explanations for her actions. Presently, she had not even attempted her typical evasive manuvers. "I'm an asshole." she conceded self-deprecatively. And oddly enough, with her hands clasped behind her back, chewing out her bottom lip, and a look of remorse on her face, she just looked so sexy to you.
Your face had lit up after she'd insulted herself, like it had pleased you, and when Paige saw your change in demeanor, she instantly recognized a positive response from you to anything she'd said, so she spoke again, her tone now more fervent and eager for your acknowledgment. "I am, right?" she implored, her voice tinged with desperation, as if searching for validation from you. When you tried to look up, avoiding her eyes, it was her touch next. You craved it. You'd missed it. You wanted it. Yeah, you wanted to be strong too—but with her hand interlocking with yours, you really wanted it. She did too. You could feel her eyes tracing down your body, and in that moment, you knew Paige missed you too, even if she was acting a fool in absence. She could have any girl in the world, but here she was, becoming undone, unraveled, so desperate just for you. You nodded your head carefully, confirming your agreement with that sentiment. She was an asshole. "Yeah," she murmmured, her desire for your approval palpable. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at her as her head buried itself delicately in the crook of your neck—it would make it all too real. At first, she's still, engulfing your scent with deep inhales like a curious dog. As she inhales, the air sends shivers down your spine, making your skin tingle with anticipation. Every nerve in your body feels alive, sensitive to her every touch. That's what causes you to let out a soft moan when with a desperate hunger, Paige's tongue glides over your skin, tracing every curve of your crook with an urgency that betrays her need for you and leaves you breathless. She keeps going, entirely undeterred by your half-hearted whisper of, "Paige, stop." as your hand rests on her waist, holding her close. It's as if something has come over her. She acts like she's starved and can't get enough of you. Like she's trying to imprint every inch of you into her memory before you slip away. "Don't leave me," Paige's voice trembles with longing as her hand snakes down to grip your ass tightly. "Please."
You're losing yourself too, succumbing to the intoxicating heat of the moment. Other building occupants could stumble upon the scene unfolding, but in that moment, you don't care about nothing other than her. As the intensity of the moment washes over you, your head, previously tilted backward, comes down instinctively.
You shut your eyes tightly, feeling the warmth of Paige's lips against yours as you press into the kiss. Her tongue darts against yours and with an insatiable hunger, she begins to prod at your tongue, licking that too. You can taste the faint trace of yourself on her tongue, heightening the intensity of the moment as you both vie for control in the kiss. You begin to grind against each other, your bodies moving in a frantic rhythm that mirrors the urgency of your kisses, and your lips struggle to keep pace with the fevered tempo as you move against each-other, Paige groaning loudly, unable to contain the surge of arousal exiting her pussy. With each further movement, spit begins to fall on your chest, a tangible sign of the passion consuming you both.
In the blink of an eye, Paige has slipped into your apartment. She places you against the front door and her lips trail across your chest as she swiftly undresses you. You find yourself yielding to her advances. She exudes a strength that renders resistance futile.
As your clothes fall away, Paige doesn't linger to admire the sight before her. She mentally accounts how she couldn't ever take the sight of your body, in real life and not over a phone, for granted, but she's too worked up to say anything to you at this point.
As she lays you down on the bed, she wastes no time in shedding her shirt, revealing the contours of her body clad in a sleek sports bra. The definition of her abs catches your eye, a testament to her week of rigorous training. A small moan escapes your lips at the sight, fueling the desire that courses through your veins. Instead of passively accepting her advances, you decide to take control. Rising up on your knees, you grasp the strings of her sweatpants and pull her towards you, eyes locked with her blueys. "I wanna ride 'em, P," you declare, seizing her by the waist and guiding her onto the bed. She's momentarily lost for words, her eyes widening in bewilderment. "W-what?" with a soft chuckle, you help her prop herself up against the bedpost before straddling her waist. Leaning forward, you dangle your breasts enticingly in front of her face.
"You're so strong," you murmur, releasing a loud moan as you rock your hips forward. She flexed in response, mirroring your movements, whether intentional or not, and you felt a rush of heat flood your body. Her solid, sturdy body was perfect for the grind of your clit. "I just wish you were as smart as you are powerful."
Paige held onto your hips as you ground forward, the slickness between your bodies creating a smooth, frictionless glide. With a husky tone, she murmured, "All wet for me, huh, ma?"
"Who wouldn't be?" you whimpered in response, your hips bucking eagerly against her. As you increased your pace, Paige delivered a sharp slap to your ass, exactly how she knew you liked it, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. "You still like me," she stated the obvious truth as you shuddered uncontrollably beneath her touch. Her mouth latched onto your nipple as you continued grinding, the feel of her lips and tongue making your hips stutter. "Mmph, fuck, P, wait... I'll cum if you..." you paused, halting your movements to catch your breath as she continued to suckle at your chest. With a loud 'pop', she unlatched, her own chest heaving with desire. "Can I fuck you with it again?" she asked, her voice thick with need and longing, her eyes searching yours for consent to do what began all this in the first place. "In the drawer," you replied mundanely, trying to hide your excitement though your desire for her was raging. You reasoned that the more unamused you behaved, the more she would try to make it up to you, all calculated to draw her closer while maintaining a semblance of control.
As she dug through your drawer and began to fit it on upon the bed, you stood up, positioning your vanity mirror to face the bed.
You needed to see yourself for what you were about to do. Climbing onto the bed, you slithered up Paige's body slyly, pointing your finger toward the mirror, your reflections capturing the desire and anticipation in both of your eyes. "Kay," you huffed, elevating your hips and watching as you slowly sunk down on her. She held your hips to help you, but you pushed them off, frowning fauxly.
"What, Paige? Don't think I got it in me to fuck you?" you teased, elevating slowly before coming back down again. With her hands behind her head, arms involuntarily flexing, she shook her head. "Never. Not how I fuck you." You ticked your head. "Let's see then. Shut up and let me focus." As you picked up the pace, you closed
your eyes, lost in the sensations coursing through your body. It was a familiar feeling, one you had forgotten but now remembered all too well. Paige's heavy breaths, entertained, echoed in the room, a testament to the intesity of the moment. You struggled to find a steady rhythm, letting instinct guide your movements. "Baby, slow it d--" Her voice, calling you "baby," sent a jolt of pleasure through you. "Mmh," you squeaked listlessly, "Fuck, Paige, keep talking to me," you moaned, bouncing on the thick member, your head thrown back in abandon. "What's the magic word?" she teased, her words sending shivers down your spine. "Pl-please," you stammered, your body on fire. "Good girl, baby. You know I love when you use your manners," she cooed, her words driving you over the edge. Unable to resist any longer, you surrendered to Paige's devotion, allowing her to guide you toward the peak of ecstasy, despite the initial intention of taking control.
She remembered how much you enjoyed it on your stomach. With precision, she slammed her hips against yours, pounding you relentlessly for around ten seconds before deciding to switch your position, sensing that you were close. With you now on your stomach, she placed a hand on your hip and pressed you down against the bed as she continued to pound into you with fervor. Gripping your hair, she pulled you up so you could see yourself in the mirror, intoxicated by the sight. You looked utterly wrecked. Drool escaped your parted lips, your hair matted with sweat, and tears streaked down your flushed cheeks. She had fucked you so relentlessly that it bordered on painful, yet the pleasure was incomparable. The sight of her biting her bottom lip as she worked you over, plunging deep inside you without breaking a sweat, was mesmerizing. "I'm sorry, baby," she whispered, leaning forward and pressing her body against yours as she continued to piston her hips, driving deep into you. "I'm so, so sorry. I hope you forgive me. I won't stop until you do."
Paige's powerful strokes sent loads of pleasure coursing through your bones, each thrust causing you to shake. You gripped the sheets tightly for stability, your nails digging into the fabric as she plunged into you with a hunger that matched your own. With your legs wrapped around her, you met her gaze, drowning in the intensity of her eyes as she devoured you with hers.
The sight of her arm muscles flexing as she held you steady, abs too, and her body working against yours fueled the fire burning within you, and it was only a matter of time until you exploded entirely. The reflection in the mirror only added to the raw eroticism of the moment, capturing the sheer intensity of your connection, the passion that consumed you both. She had you completely at her mercy, using you for her own pleasure, and yet, you couldn't help but revel in the sheer ecstasy of it all. "I wanna cum, Paige," you whimpered, your voice thick with need. "Please, just keep fucking me like that." The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the room, a song of want mingling with the rhythm of your moans. You surrendered to the pleasure, letting it wash over you in wave after wave of bliss, each one pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion. "Do you forgive me yet?" she breathed, her voice dripping with cockiness. You shook your head, the ache of desire mingling with the sting of resentment. "Why not, baby?" she teased, her lips curling into a wicked grin. The truth spilled from your lips, a confession. "Because you're so fuckin' mean to me," you gasped, the words punctuated by a moan as she drove into you with renewed fervor. She shook her head, a smirk playing at her lips as she reveled in the power she held over you. "If I was mean to you, would I be fucking you to tears?" she taunted, each word pushing you closer to the brink of surrender. Please, Paige, faster, m'gonna cum so hard," you gasped, your nails digging into her wrists as you begged for more. "Yeah, baby?" she purred, disregarding the marks on her skin as she complied with your request, increasing the tempo with each thrust. "Fuck, P, yeah," you moaned, "shit mommy, I'm gonna cum." But she slowed herself slightly, denying you release. "No, you're not," she asserted, her thumb wiping away your tears as she held your gaze. "Not until you ask mommy to."
"Ughhh, P, so mean," you whined, complying, "please, mommy, please let me cum on your cock."
She smiled, proud. "C'mon baby, give it to me, mama," she urged, her movements becoming more frantic with each word. "Give it to me," she repeated, "give it to me," and when you finally did, your entire body convulsed, pleasure washing over you as you released, your essence squirting out and staining the sheets. You moaned loudly, the sound echoing in the room, uncaring if your neighbors could hear, lost in the throes of ecstasy. But she didn't stop, continuing to fuck you even after you'd climaxed. And when you finally begged her to stop, overwhelmed and spent, she paid you no mind, only focused on one thing and one thing only. "You forgive me, baby?" she asked, her thrusts sloppy. "Yes, yes, yes, Paige. I forgive you," you murmured, unable to raise your voice any longer."Huh?" she teased, forcing you to speak louder. "Yes, Paige. I FORGIVE YOU!" you declared, the words ringing out as she abruptly withdrew from you. You knew what she wanted next as she removed the strap, her intentions clear. "Let's put your mouth to use," she commanded, and the night was far from over.
an: y/n delulu era? Idk how I rly feel ab this one lmk guys I love reading your comments and my inbox it’s like the best 🤞
also y’all this is part 4
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tj-dragonblade · 2 days
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popping my head in to ask about Mer Hob 👀 from the WIP title ask game
Finally popping my head back up to answer, my apologies for the wait! Mer-Hob came out of server conversations about mer-Dreamling fish assignments and aquatic mating displays, but he kind of fizzled out with the scene I tried to write. Dusting him off for this, though, I think I can breathe the spark back into it. Take it past where I meant to before, so it will have a more satisfactory conclusion. I have scrapped the lackluster 'how did they meet' that was stalling me out and given them new backstory and now I'm unsure how exactly I want to structure this. Start where I've started and then jump back to the meeting, then bring them back to the present? Make the backstory a separate fic? Rearrange the whole thing chronologically, which would require a lot of rework and shortening of the current opening bit? IDK but I'll figure it out. In the meantime, here is a chunky chunk of drafting for their meet-cute (sfw but cut for length):
Dream is not surprised to find a waterline-level cave out on the rock formation in the bay, on the side not visible from shore. Nor is he overly surprised to find someone stretched out in the handsbreadth of water covering the floor with their eyes closed, as the morning light fills the first several feet of the cave brightly in a way that is conducive to sunbathing.
The fact that the sunbather has a bright orange tail with brilliant yellow fins and blue-black leopard-like spots is rather less expected, however, and Dream gasps his surprise.
The sound startles the man—the merman—surely not?—who sits bolt upright, eyes wide and panicking as he locks gazes with Dream not an arm's length away.
Dream's heart skips a beat. He's beautiful—
"Oh, fuck!" The merman—there is no other explanation, no mistaking the flurry of fins and scales as he moves—the merman twists and flops and dives past Dream, a less-than-graceful plunge off the rock and into the sea and then he is gone.
"Wait!" Dream cries, to the bright flick of yellow vanishing into the depths, but of course it is no use.
He could swim back to the boat, could don his diving gear and follow—but no. The merman is already gone, and will be more so by the time Dream could be equipped to give chase.
He swallows back his disappointment, his disbelief, and tells himself resolutely that he surely imagined the entire thing.
But he did not imagine it, he knows this; the knowledge lodges in his mind, burrows down into his consciousness and curls around his common sense, stokes his curiosity.
He saw a merman.
Merpeople do not exist.
But he saw one.
He returns the next day, hoping perhaps to repeat the discovery, but he is the only visitor to the cave in the hours that he spends there. When the tide has gone out and come back in, high enough once more to cover the floor of the cave, when he has spent all day waiting with nothing to show for it, he admits defeat and swims back to his boat.
He returns again, and again, later each day with the drift of the tide, diving to explore beneath the surface when the cave remains empty. He finds nothing of note, nothing to hint at the existence of merfolk, nothing at all out of the ordinary; by day six, he is trying to convince himself to make peace with the likelihood that he will never find any trace of the merman he knows he had seen.
On day seven, the merman is back, sunbathing at the front of the cave again.
Only this time, he has human legs, is wearing swim trunks, is sitting further away from where Dream is treading water, stunned.
"…Hello," Dream manages.
"Hi," the man says, warmly polite. He is cross-legged with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them, one hand holding the other wrist; he is meant to look casual and relaxed, Dream is certain, but the tension and the nervousness coming off of him are palpable.
He is still beautiful.
"You're. I saw you here, before?" His thoughts are still trying to catch up; he hoists himself into the cave, doesn't move closer.
The man's shoulders drop a tiny fraction. "Yeah, yep! Startled me good, you did!" He chuckles lightly, a carefree and casual sound; the fingers of his dangling hand wriggle, a nervous and distracted sort of gesture that draws Dream's attention to the profusion of hair on his bare legs, and arms, and what Dream can see of his chest.
"You had a. A tail, last time," Dream says, somewhat awkwardly, tearing his gaze from the sprinkling of hair on the man's bare toes.
"Oh, that, yes!" The man grins, bright and disarming. "I'm a mermaid performer, with the, ah, the local carnival."
Dream is convinced this is a lie even as the logical part of his brain points out that this explanation makes far more sense than believing in merfolk. He knows what he saw, the flexing of muscle and the fanning of fins, the bending and twisting that did not match up to the way that human legs would move in that configuration. The merman speaks with casual confidence, but the tension in his frame and the nervous fidget of his clasped hand are easy to read.
"…No, I don't think you are," Dream says, and the man's bright smile dips before returning to full wattage.
"Calling me a liar, are you?" He laughs, a light and enchanting sound that Dream immediately wants to hear more of. "Merfolk, they don't actually exist, I'll have you know."
~ The wip tag has a tiiiny bit more of this one, also.
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starcurtain · 26 days
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2.1 Penacony Spoilers!
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I know the scene after Ratio's "betrayal" can be read a lot of ways but I am shocked I haven't seen more people interpret it as Ratio being so worried about Aventurine that he couldn't stay away even though he was supposed to.
We know:
1) Ratio absolutely knew Aventurine's plan from start to finish, both his gamble to create "death" in the dream and with the three cornerstones. (Wish people would stop underselling Ratio in their analyses; "Three chips are enough" is a direct enough clue that, genius as he is, Ratio would never miss.)
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2) In his own words, Ratio was acting according to Aventurine's instructions while in Dewlight Pavilion and with Sunday and felt that he did a good job not giving them away.
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I think most people are on the same page up to there, but then I've seen a lot of people interpreting this scene after Aventurine leaves Sunday's mansion as Aventurine being genuinely angry at Ratio (possibly after having gaslit himself into thinking Ratio was actually betraying him).
But this doesn't make much sense to me because:
1) Ratio actually has nothing to gain by selling Aventurine out to Sunday. They're on the same side in this mission. Information about a Stelleron on Penacony wouldn't be news anyone with a brain like Ratio's and why would he need someone else's research on Stellerons when he already has ties to the Genius Society through Screwllum and Herta, as well as the Astral Express where the Trailblazer is actively housing a Stelleron?
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2) One of Aventurine's most notable lines of dialogue is how it's perfectly fine and expected for "friends" to use each other and backstab. This is his default understanding of partners--why would he suddenly be mad about something he expected from the start?
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3) If the betrayal wasn't already planned and was just a possibility based on Aventurine's understanding of Ratio, why would he ever have revealed there were "three chips" (aka three cornerstones) in play? If even the betrayal over Topaz's stone wasn't planned, just assumed, why would Aventurine reveal the existence of the third stone? He would gain nothing from doing so.
Instead, I think it makes a lot more sense to interpret Aventurine's frustration with Ratio in this later scene as annoyance over Ratio taking an "unnecessary" risk:
1) As far as Sunday knows, Ratio had just very seriously betrayed Aventurine, completely selling him out and essentially sending him to his execution.
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2) In the scene afterward, Aventurine is out in public in the middle of Penacony where The Family's eyes are always watching, yet Ratio walks right up to him to check on him. Why would someone who just sold you out come up to you immediately afterward to check on your health?!
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3) It's only natural that Aventurine would pump the brakes and go "Wow, didn't think you'd show yourself after you just betrayed me, remember?" Because that's the act they are supposed to be keeping up! They're still being monitored; it's not safe to break character!
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But Ratio is a genius, right, so why would he break character here? From the standpoint of the ploy itself, revealing to the Family that he and Aventurine were still on the same side would only jeopardize the plan, not help it.
The logical explanation, then, is that Ratio went to Aventurine here because he felt like he had to.
He had to check in and make sure the situation was still under Aventurine's control.
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(In fact, the entire exchange through the middle of this scene is Aventurine and Ratio confirming the rest of their plot in a veiled manner: Ratio brings up the plan and mentions what's concealed in the gift money bag, Aventurine confirms the cornerstone is good to go; Ratio asks what his next step will be; Aventurine says he's going to do the insane thing of handing out cash while looking pathetic [aka fishing for Sparkle]. Ratio essentially asks if he's crazy enough to take the final gamble with his own life, which Aventurine confirms, and then Ratio sets them up for the finale by gifting him the doctor's note.)
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Ratio was willing to risk ruining their entire plan--something Aventurine does seem to be frustrated about at first--just to ensure Aventurine still felt all right about the situation.
He needed to deliver his note demanding Aventurine stay alive.
He needed to tell Aventurine to come to him if the situation got too painful to bear.
In short, Ratio was worried enough that he could not stay away even though, for the sake of their plot, it would have made significantly more sense for him not to appear. The gain of breaking character was worth more to him than the risk of being caught.
You honestly don't even have to take this in a shipping context. The real point here is that Ratio is an incredibly good person who wasn't okay with Aventurine's self-sacrificial plan and who felt morally compelled to check on a person in pain. He's a healer through and through, and ignoring Aventurine in this condition--ignoring someone who was taking so much risk on themselves--simply wasn't possible for him, no matter the danger it posed to the plan.
But for those who do ship Ratio and Aventurine... I hope more people will come to see this scene as another example of Ratio's genuine concern for his mission partner! He did not have to appear here at all; it would have made much more sense for him to leave Aventurine to his own devices to uphold the illusion of their "betrayal." He showed up in this scene--very likely against Aventurine's expectations--because he was concerned for Aventurine's situation and wanted to ensure Aventurine knew he could fall back on Ratio's support at any time if the plan went awry.
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tl;dr: I wish people would stop interpreting this scene as the aftermath of a betrayal. Aventurine wasn't ticked off with Ratio in this scene because he felt like he'd genuinely been backstabbed; he was ticked off because Ratio was literally breaking their pre-established "betrayer" character just to be fussy over Aventurine's safety and well-being. (Okay, and to double check on the plan, but let's be real, the first part was definitely more important. 👌)
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lovecanyon · 4 months
Text
DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA ft. jealous fans
dad!max x horner!y/n
MASTERLIST | PATREON
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f1gossip In light of recent cheating rumors surrounding Y/N Horner, the alleged infidelity has become a subject of intense speculation. Speculations indicate that Y/N Horner had cheated on Max Verstappen with another F1 driver, causing a stir among fans and media. While no concrete evidence has been provided, these rumors have cast a cloud of doubt over the couple's relationship, leaving many curious about the truth behind the allegations.
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user99 MAX DESERVES BETTER
user74 anytime y/n is seen with a man that isn’t max you all freak out…she’s probably just friends with whoever
user46 right! she is friends with most of the grid, including carlos, lewis and checo…and is she dating them…no!
user51 you guys are shit stirrers 🤨
user67 i’m sorry but i used to like y/n but she’s been acting out lately
user101 she thinks being the daughter of christian horner makes her superior
user97 get help. please.
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yourinstagram mom’s night out 💋��
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user44 MY FAVORITE WAG
user70 max won at life
maxverstappen ❤️❤️❤️
yourinstagram i love you so much
user96 MAX AND Y/N BREAK UP CHALLENGE
heidiberger_ You are the love of my life
user91 we get it you left your daughter with max to go out 🙄
user52 why are you acting like max is not the literal father…
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verstappendaily Max with Elodie on his Twitch livestream tonight!
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user53 max being a girl dad makes so much sense
user80 THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😭😭😭
user103 while y/n is out partying with her friends…
user37 WE GET IT. YOU ARE JEALOUS OF HER
user54 elodie and max are the cutest ever
user107 imagine world champion max verstappen being your father
user96 CUTIESSS
user110 the pillow 🥹
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wagsf1 Y/N Horner has recently blocked accounts on Twitter that have accused her of cheating on Max Verstappen.
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user89 i would do way worse than block, she’s better than me
user107 AND SHE ATE
user110 y/n is so childish
user51 how??? 😭
user49 the y/n hate is getting so old at this point
user123 and what if i tell you i love her for this
user50 she seems so guilty
user92 Y/N DEFINITELY CHEATED ON MAX
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ynmaxdaily Y/N, Elodie and Max in Monaco yesterday!
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user133 and you guys thought they hated each other…lol
user57 I LOVE THE VERSTAPPEN FAMILY
user201 my love for y/n will never go away sorry 🤭
user45 max will never leave y/n…you guys are delusional
user88 right!!! that man is so in love with her
user13 after going on a blocking spree i guess she needed a vacation
user95 the y/n hate is just pure jealousy ‼️
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maxynupdates Y/N Horner claps back at trolls on Twitter!
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user11 SHE IS SO SICK OF YOU GUYS
user57 y/n is that girl ‼️
user190 i literally love her for this
user74 the way max liked y/n’s tweet too 🙌
user231 HE IS SO REAL FOR THAT
user38 this is my roman empire
user112 i get her being fed up with max’s fans…they all hate her for nothing
user22 Y/N FANS RISE
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maxverstappen1 Family ❤️
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user55 THIS IS SO CUTE
user72 free max
yourinstagram i love youuu
maxverstappen1 I love you more!
user112 my parents 😭😭😭
victoriaverstappen Such cuties
user84 y/n haters were found crying in the corner
landonorris Invite your second child next time 🙋‍♂️
user145 LANDO YOU ARE SO
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f1wags Y/N Horner via Twitter! She shared photos of her in Max’s race suit, along with her purse and Max’s shoes!
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user117 hate on her all you want but y/n is so iconic for this
user22 max is so loved 😭
user63 “his and her’s” I AM CRYING, THEY ARE SO CUTE
user201 y/n in max’s suit…she ate
user146 her distracting us by tweeting stupid shit
user70 you are so delusional…get a grip
user113 max and y/n were truly meant for each other
user27 our red bull princess!!!
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formula1news Christian Horner with Y/N’s mother on the paddock today!
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user66 OMG OUR PARENTS
user98 even though they are not together i still love them 🤷‍♀️
user108 y/n’s mother is so iconic
user127 they were the best couple in formula one history!!!
user33 MY ROMAN EMPIRE
user52 i love y/n’s parents omfg 🫶
user60 they just made history again
user111 AHHHH
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yourinstagram NUMBER 1
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user113 y/n, elodie and max 🥹
user55 SHE IS TRULY THE BEST WAG IN HISTORY
maxverstappen1 ❤️❤️❤️❤️
yourinstagram ILY
user78 can they get married already
christianhorner Love you darling
(liked by yourinstagram!)
user25 DAD MAX 😭
lilyhme Stunningggg <3
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f1teaa Many F1 fans think this deuxmoi story is about Y/N Horner and Max Verstappen.
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user184 JUST LEAVE THEM ALONE OH MY GODDD
user122 and people came for me when i said y/n was a terrible person
user67 i think you are just jealous
user98 you can tell all these max fans are jealous of her…
user21 the parasocial relationships are going crazy
user202 “she constantly leaves her daughter” you all saw y/n go out ONE TIME and ran with her being a bad mother ‼️
user130 THEY ARE INSANE
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newsverstappen Max and Y/N having lunch at Red Bull’s hospitality!
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user57 and people were trying to convince me that max hates her…you know damn well
user193 she never leaves max’s side ugh
user66 LMAO WHAT 😭
user201 to all the people that want them to break up…they are never gonna break up
user65 the best couple ever
user173 you can hate them all you want but
user92 PARENTS
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christianhorner Lovebirds!!
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user112 christian being max and y/n’s #1 supporter 😭
user62 MOM & DAD
maxverstappen1 ❤️
(liked by christianhorner)
user98 HIS DAD IN LAW
josverstappen7 Partners in crime!
user194 CHRISTIAN IS SO REAL FOR THIS GOODBYE LMAO
redbullracing Our favorite people
user11 awwww
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wags4f1 Y/N has recently liked some tweets about the hate she’s getting! 👀
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user56 AND I AGREE WITH HER
user109 love the way she does not give a fuck too 😭
user144 she is truly the best
user268 wait until you all find out she dated charles and then dumped him for max…lol
user70 hate the way people mom shame y/n
user213 LOVE HER FOR THIS 🙌
user88 anyways max and charles deserve better!!!
user209 still baffled at the way she dated charles omg…
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yourinstagram maxie & i ❤️♾️
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user203 she said this is my man and my man only!
user16 WAIT SO HER AND CHARLES DATED? IS THIS WHY THEY NEVER TALK?!!!
maxverstappen1 I love you forever
yourinstagram ❤️
user117 I WILL PROTECT THEM
carmenmmundt Love you two!!
user68 I’m about to go jump off a bridge
alexandrasaintmleux 🤍
user129 girl she dated your man…what are you doing here
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womeninf1 Y/N in the paddock today!
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user223 MOTHERRR
user107 she is keeping the f1 world alive ‼️
user96 so what she dated charles…that was like in 2019
user45 future mrs. verstappen
user110 nobody will ever make me hate y/n…sorry
user66 max vs charles (y/n edition)
user202 her wearing max’s sweater 💅
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wags_news Max declined photos with fans today while he was with Y/N!
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user82 yeah he’s getting sick of people too 😭
user117 I LOVE THEM LMFAOO
user79 can everyone just leave y/n and max alone…if you are gonna hate on them…ignore them
user156 they looked so fed up today omg
user203 he also declined photos because he was practicing btw!!!
user25 WHAT IS GOING ONNNN
user93 it’s called protecting his relationship 🤷‍♀️
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formula1tea It was revealed that Y/N and Charles briefly dated back in 2019 right before she got with Max! The reason of their breakup remains unknown!
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user78 well…what happens now
user139 they dated 4 years ago…get over it
user107 THE WAY CHARLES AND ALEXANDRA JUST BROKE UP BYE
user93 this is one for the history books
user136 ngl…they look good together but i love her with max
user44 Y/N AND MAX SUPREMACY SORRY 🤭
user99 i don’t know how to handle this
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wags4f1 Charles Leclerc has just followed Y/N Horner amid his and Alexandra’s breakup!
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user64 THISSS IS CRAZY
user199 you guys jumping into conclusions…they can be friends if they want to
user76 LITERALLY 😭
user12 she’s with max. chill everyone
user217 charles and alex breaking up when…yeah okayyy 👀
user105 anyways i will support y/n no matter what
user45 overreacting for what???
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tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @cherryfragrancx @milkiane @golden-hoax @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia @tlcbabiesss @honethatty12
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zephyrchama · 4 months
Text
Writing prompt: If MC had been a sheep since they came to the Devildom and then suddenly became human again, would the brothers recognize them? (Under the cut, all 7 brothers, SFW, written in second person.)
Others might have written about this before, it's a fun concept. In the beginning of the manga it's explained that MC appears to be a sheep for reasons. I like to think that they gradually change back and their sheep characteristics slowly become more human, while maintaining sheep-like qualities for a while, but it's more fun to write about if they just. suddenly. change back all at once, ta-da.
Humans sometimes face adverse effects when traversing realms. The unnatural spatial movement has equally unnatural consequences for human bodies, which is why you found yourself in the body of a small pink sheep when meeting the brothers for the first time.
Solomon and Diavolo say it will wear off in time, as you adjust to the Devildom. Your body will return to normal eventually, but they don’t know exactly how long. Its been quite some time now and everyone just accepts that this is how things are. You are a small pink sheep, and you are family.
You expected a gradual transformation - to slowly regain human features over time as you got used to life in the Devildom. That didn’t happen. Day by day nothing changed, until the transformation happened all at once.
Lucifer
Lucifer had seen your photo on the exchange student paperwork months ago. A generic little square image stapled to the application, hardly better than a driver’s license photo. He might have taken your paperwork out of the student council room and put it in his private office desk for safekeeping, or to look from time to time to remind himself you really were human.
He was the first one you thought to tell. A big change like this was surely worth a visit to his room, even if he was busy. You knocked your usual knock. Now that you were human-sized, you could reach the middle of the door, but the lack of hooves meant your knock was quieter. There were several seconds of silence. Maybe he didn’t hear you. You went to knock again, but a familiar gruff voice called out “come in,” from the other side so you reached for the handle.
There were piles of record book and stacks of forms upon the desk, but the eldest brother was still visible from the doorway. As if sensing something was different, he paused mid-writing and looked up. Lucifer was taken aback for a moment but quickly regained his usual composed poker face. You tried to hide a smile. Seeing him surprised like that was a rare occasion.
“I see you’ve finally gotten used to it here. Congratulations.” Maybe it was the soft light inside the House of Lamentation, but Lucifer thought you looked far better in person than in that photo. He put down his pen and crossed his hands under his chin. It almost masked the way he leaned slightly forward to get a better look at you over the large desk. “Do you feel alright?”
You nodded, it was strange to adjust to your old height again but you were glad to be back in your body. “You’re sure you feel fine? Come here,” he commanded.
Sitting next to him as a sheep while he worked had become so natural, yet doing so now as a human made you feel so self conscious. Your eyes wandered around the room, avoiding his gaze until he grabbed your shoulder and said “look at me.”
To you, he was just being overprotective. A routine check up on the exchange student to make sure they’re healthy after a sudden transformation. Maybe being close enough to feel his breath each time he exhaled was also necessary. To Lucifer, it was the time he’d been waiting months for. To see your glossy hair, not just a ball of wool, and study the contours of your face. How smooth your cheeks were and the way you politely kept up an embarrassed smile. Yes, the real deal was much nicer than a photograph.
Mammon
Mammon had no idea who you were, at first. You were sitting on the couch, wasting time while waiting for the next family meal. The front door slammed open loudly and closed with a bang. Mammon finally strolled into the living room after a long evening of make-up lessons at school.
“When’s dinner ready? I’m starvin’!” His boisterous voice made the house a little livelier. “And hey, where’s--”
He stammered when his eyes met yours and his voice faltered back down to a normal indoor volume. “Didn’ know we had someone vistin’. Hmph.”
Your jaw dropped. Was he really this dense? He couldn’t recognize you despite all the time you spend together? You turned around to watch over the back of the couch as Mammon walked to the dining room, then left to go down the hallway that led to your room. Several moments later he was in the kitchen. You could hear voices, but not what was said.
After some time he came meandering back to the living room. With one hand on his hip, he remained standing and leaned against the other couch. He was agitated and impatient, and with no one else around he turned to you.
It must have been five seconds, max, but it felt like you stared at each other for an hour. You pouted, glaring at the idiot who thought you seemed like an oddly familiar and comforting presence. “Who’re ya here to see? If it’s The Great Mammon, I’m a busy guy. I can’t just stand around. WIthout compensation, I’m leavin’.”
“Mammon,” you said. Just one word. You sounded hurt. It made his heart skip a beat, he’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Huh? What’d you say?” He heard you loud and clear. He just wanted you to speak again, to hear your voice once more and confirm he wasn’t imagining things.
Of all the ways you imagined showing off your human body to him, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Maybe you were wrong for expecting him to recognize you no matter what, but just like him you would never admit that.
“Oh my gosh, you’re a fool! Here’s your ‘compensation!’” Swiftly, you launched a decorative cushion square at his stomach. Your strike is nothing to him, but you landed an emotional blow when you went to storm off.
He grabbed your wrist before you got out of arm’s reach. Forcefully at first, but quickly realized he had to loosen up to avoid hurting you. “Wh- huh? Is that you? Why didn’t you say anything!? When did this happen?”
Walking away was futile as Mammon was rooted to the spot. “That’s really you, right? This ain’t a joke?”
He pulled you in towards him and spun you around to look at your face. You were mad and upset and relieved that he stopped you and embarrassed at having so many emotions at once. He finally knew, you're his human, alright.
Leviathan
It took a while for things to click for Leviathan.
He first saw you from afar on campus. He wanted to steer clear from you., like with every other student. Though he did do a double-take and stare.
He’d never seen you (well, proper human you) around before, and you looked just like the customizable characters you always created in his games. Same hair style, same eyes, same sense of style. His P2 was real. It was uncanny and he couldn’t wait to tell you all about seeing your player character wandering around campus.
That’s when he realized he hadn’t seen you all day. The sheep you. You were always easy to find due to being bogarted by his flashy brothers. You were one of the few to casually greet him every day as assurance he was welcome at RAD. You were human, and humans weren’t sheep. Didn’t Lucifer say something about that when you first arrived? Oh.
When Leviathan didn’t show up to classes after lunch you went looking for him. It was a tough quest. He wasn’t in any of the usual hiding places and wasn’t answering his DDD. He really didn’t want to see you. Or, well, he really did, but clearly wasn’t prepared to. You finally found him on a bench, shrouded by overgrown tree branches and isolated far on the outskirts of RAD’s campus.
Low muttering gave away his hiding space, unintelligible as he was biting down hard on his thumbnail while he raved. His hair was a tousled mess and from time to time he’d jump up to flail or shake his head.
“Lev-”
You tried to greet him and got met with a glorious, high-pitched shriek. You pushed on anyway.
“Levi! I’ve been looking for you. Notice anything different today?”
“You! Y-y-y-youuu!!” He could not look you in the eye, or look at you at all, but your familiar voice made everything clear. It took some time for him to speak again.

”You sat in my bed! You sat in my lap!” He referenced all the times you’d stay up late gaming with him. He never objected to that before. “You! You did all that! How could you?”

”I… thought we were friends?”
”Well I didn’t know you looked like that!”
All the wholesome memories Levi had of you two bonding, demon and sheep, suddenly changed. No longer were you a cute fuzzball sitting on his legs or snug against him like a plush while he slept. You were a cute human, with human features, sitting between his legs and being held against him in bed. Overnight you went from essentially a security plush to a real person, and he was having trouble adjusting.
“You lied to me! Aagh!” He kicked his legs and pulled at his hair in anxious frustration, his thoughts branching in dozens of conflicting paths at once, so you did the only thing you knew to calm him. A big hug.
He froze right up. You stubbornly told him “I’m still me, you know.”
“But you look…” For the first time he tried looking right at you, but all you noticed was the intense blush across his face. It made you smile.
Satan
Great Detective Satan picked up on your change quickly. It wasn’t hard to deduce for anyone who paid close attention to mysteries, like he did.
You hadn’t asked for any help that morning reaching for things high up. You didn’t ask anyone to carry your heavy school books. Most obviously, you were sitting in the dining room enjoying a hearty piece of toast when he also sat down to eat breakfast. Even though he didn’t physically recognize you, who else would be fearlessly sitting at the House of Lamentation’s breakfast table and happily greeting the Avatar of Wrath?
Rather than the scrambled eggs, Satan was most interested in you. He didn’t hide the way he stared. “You look different.” Slowly, eyes never wavering, he took the chair beside you.

”Oh yeah! Check it out, I changed back!” You went to stand up and show off, but first needed to wipe the crumbs off your face. Too bad the napkin just slid off your lap and onto the floor. “Ah, hold on, I’ll show you in a sec. It’ll be worth it.” You didn’t want to look sloppy on your first day as a human again, and although hands were easier to eat with than hooves, you had prioritized munching on delicious breakfast food over eating cleanly. Without another clean napkin in arm’s reach, you went to pick up what had fallen.
“Allow me.” Napkin unfolded, Satan leaned in close. Before you could acknowledge his offer he had a hand wrapped around your chin. The heat of his fingers could be felt on your lips through the cloth. He spent an unnecessarily long time tracing the contours around your mouth. A cleaning this thorough would surely ward crumbs off your face for at least a week.
A full minute later, Satan was satisfied and leaned back in his own chair. He didn’t stop staring though. You gave a heartfelt, “thanks! Now let me show you,” and stood up to twirl.
Asmodeus
Asmodeus recognized you right away. He was the only one not taken aback, and was thrilled to see you returned to full glory. “You look just like your socials!”
Not one to miss out on trends, Asmodeus had signed up for a few human realm social media sites. He considered it to be the cultural exchange aspect of your exchange program. On particularly slow evenings he’d even scroll through several years of your image posts and save the cutest ones. Asmodeus was very well acquainted with both your human and sheep looks.
“Do you have anything to wear other than your uniform? We really should trim your hair, too. That didn’t stop growing while you were a sheep, huh?” He was immediately all over you, twirling your hair in his long fingers while circling like a predator locked on to its prey.
“Oh really?” You hadn’t noticed your hair being overly long. You were just happy to be back to normal. “Yeah I’ve got plenty of clothes, but my hair? Are there, like, demon barbers around here? Can you help?”
“Leave it to me! And your nails!” His hand found yours and soon your fingers were entwined. He lifted them up, cheerily exclaiming “how about matching with me?” as he pulled you towards his room. It was hard to keep up with him, but at least you stood a chance now unlike before in that small body. He noticed, and with a cheeky grin turned to ask “you're not still having trouble? I’ll carry you, you know. And when you need another trim, you come to me first.”
Beelzebub
Beelzebub lucked out. He came into the dining hall for the most important meal of the day, just in time to see you twirl for Satan, proclaiming “I’m back!”
Your voice was the same, and you smelled the same as ever. He let out an astonished “woah” while taking the seat across from you. This new form was much better than the sheep one. His fears of accidentally hurting you with too much strength somewhat abated. Though, in his eyes you were still tiny.
“Morning!” you greeted. “Notice anything new?”
”Boy, do I.” Through a mouthful of food, he asked “how did this happen?”

“Dunno, it must have happened overnight. I just woke up and bam.” You flashed a pair of finger guns at Beel and he laughed.
After breakfast, you two became alone in the dining room. You piled up the dirty dishes and Beelzebub carried them into the kitchen as you followed behind, saying “we better hurry, I didn’t realize it was this late already.”
“Yeah.” He placed everything in the sink, then turned to face you. He held out his arms. “Ready to go?”
Carrying you to school appears to have become a habit. Beel didn’t even hesitate to gently lift you up like you were weightless. It was an everyday occurrence when you were a sheep. But back in your old body with longer legs, having his arm wrap around your waist without a layer of thick wool to cushion you, things felt different. “Y’know, I might be able to walk to school today.”
“Hm?” Beelzebub took a moment to process this. Like he had completely forgotten you got your body back in that short span of time. “Oh! Sorry. Force of habit.” Almost dejectedly, he crouched to set you back on the ground. You reached around to grab his shoulders anyway.
“Well, I never said you had to let go.”
Belphegor
Belphegor thought he was still sleeping. Your human figure was a familiar sight he had seen multiple times. It was how you manifested in your dreams, after all. Sometimes when you napped together he would pick up glimpses of your dreams. On this day he had made it to RAD with time to spare and was dozing off in his seat when you arrived.
Unreservedly, he dragged himself several feet over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder right next to your ear. “Hey.” This was a dream anyway, might as well enjoy it.
“Belphie, are you still asleep?” you asked. Physical contact wasn’t so bad, but it got embarrassing in public like this. With a futile shake you tried to rouse him. “Look! Did you notice? I’m not a sheep anymore!”
“Mm, yeah. You’re you.” Avoiding the lights, he buried his eyes in your neck, wishing it was a little darker. He liked you like this. But if this was a dream, why did the light bother him? Why was he still so tired? “Is it… Hm? What time is it?”
“Time for class to start soon. If you fall asleep again Lucifer is gonna kick your butt. Wake up.” You roughly ruffled his hair, causing him to groan and cling to your waist tighter. It did succeed in getting him to raise his head, at least.
After a sleepy pause, Belphegor seemed to grasp his surroundings. He squinted and leaned back, sizing you up. You couldn't tell if he was waking up or preparing to slouch down again until he spoke. “You really changed back? For real?”
“Yep!”
“Heh, good for you.” He pat your sides and let go. It tickled a little. Now, while you were distracted, was his turn to ruffle your hair. Payback disguised as playful praise.
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thebestofoneshots · 6 months
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touches | Remus Lupin x Reader
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader
Word Count: 12.8 k (yeah, I don't even know how this happened, but damn do I love the final result)
Warnings: smut, teasing, dry hump*ng, finger fucking, hand job, masturbati*n, P in V, lots of praise, consent is sexy, lusty!Remus, he literally can't take his eyes off you. His big, sexy destrous hands make you quiver.
Prompt: Inspired by the sense of touch, this fic tells the story of Remus being absolutely head over heels for you and his obsession with a particular picture of you in a sundress. A picture, that unleashes his most lecherous, and debaucherous self.
Mutual Pinning, Idiots in Love, smut with a plot
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sights is part of The Five Senses: an anthology series where each chapter will be a stand alone story, inspired by the different ways we have of perceiving the world around us.
♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut
You had had crushes before, but whatever this thing you had going on for Remus Lupin was something else entirely. Enticing, addicting, almost like a drug, no, not almost, Remus Lupin was most definitely like a drug to you. 
The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, you could actually tell he was coming in your direction just from the sheer scent that would hit you before his beautiful face did, and you would instantly perk up, and try to act as natural as possible when he passed by. It didn’t help that every single time he saw you he would smile so brightly, you felt like your entire world was being illuminated. He’d then walk closer to you, greet you, and place an arm over your shoulders, especially if you had to go to the same place, and most of the time you were going to the same place, the library.
You would sit across each other and no matter how much fucking attention you tried to pay to whatever book you were reading, or to whatever it was you were trying to study, you’d continuously get distracted by him. By the way he flipped the pages of his book, by the way he shifted on the chair, by the way he fucking breathed. You weren’t sure it was a crush anymore, since it started feeling like a bIoody obsession instead. 
There was something about the way his rich brown eyes looked at you that made you feel so fucking high, you might have as well held the record of the person with the most feet above the ground while flying a broom. 
The absolute worst part was the dreams you were having, it all started one time you were all chilling in the common room and for some reason you ended up with your feet over his lap, you didn’t even remember how it happened, but you certainly did remember how it had felt. The sly wolf had placed his stupid hot hands over your legs, and as he was talking to everyone, he started gently –and absentmindedly you assumed– rubbing small circles over your knees. And then his hand had traveled a bit upwards, just above your knee, nothing indecent really, just a stupid friendly hand, a friendly hand that was so big, and strong and dextrous that you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 
Even days after it happened you were still thinking about the ghost of his hands ever so present in your head. But it wasn’t until exactly one and a half weeks later, that you solidified your obsession. You had a dream in which the exact same thing happened, except this time the rest of your friends weren’t there, and Remus' hand continued to travel upwards, and upwards, until it reached the place where you had wanted it the most. 
And he had done so many filthy and nasty things in your dream that when you woke up you weren’t only blushing for what had happened, but your panties had been so ruined that you had to change them before anyone noticed what had happened. Next time you saw Remus you were so fucking mortified you couldn’t even look at him in the eye. 
Remus Lupin wasn’t much better either. He had thought of you as beautiful from the day he met you, stunning even, but that had been that. You were all just kids and all just friends. In fact, he thought James was weird for having a crush on 12-year-old Lily. Who has a crush when you’re 12?, he’d thought, girls are dumb and entitled. 
Yeah, perhaps Remus didn’t have a crush on you from the very beginning like James had fallen for Lily, and he might have even thought he didn’t even like girls at some point, especially when he took into account his misadventures with Sirius and other boys in 5th year. But one day you were all having dinner, and then you bit into the juiciest plum he had ever seen, some of the sugary liquid spilling down from your lips as you took the fruit away from them, and something fucking snapped in Remus. 
You noticed he was staring, and gave him a bright smile “This one’s insanely good, wanna bite?” you’d asked him as you pushed the deep red fruit towards his face. On the inside, it was a lighter hue of red, and Remus swallowed when he noticed the bite marks on the side of its skin, your bite marks. ”I promise you’d like it,” you said as you dangled the fruit over his face. The boy did eventually lean in and gave the fruit a bite, his nose accidentally brushing against your hand. You blinked a couple of times when he peered through his lashes at you mid-bite, really trying to swallow the nasty thoughts that came into your head.
Remus didn’t so much as manage to do that, after the bite he pulled back, placing a napkin over his mouth to clean up the sugary wetness left by the fruit, and nodded, yeah, it had been a bIoody tasty fruit “Delicious.”   
“Told you,” you’d responded with a smile and gave it another bite, moaning just a little at the flavour. If Remus Lupin’s pants were already making him uncomfortable, the way you fucking ate that fruit all the way ‘till the end, could have been his elegy.  
“Dеad for lusting over his friend” he imagined his grave would say, feeling miserable over having such nasty thoughts of you. When you crossed the table to tell James something about a prank, Remus didn’t think much of it, he just sank a little deeper onto the chair and placed his robes over his lap to try and mask what was actually going on. He tried imagining Dumbledore naked, and it seemed to have worked at least a little bit, but after you were done you placed your hand on his shoulder and leaned over to him with a soft smile on your face. 
“I’m going to the library to go over some charms, you coming?” you asked him.  
He barely managed to muster a tight-lipped smile and shook his head “I’m… I’m not feeling too good, I’ll be going to the dorms,” he somehow managed to say. 
“Oh, all right,” you smiled, letting your hand draw from shoulder to shoulder, brushing just for a second over the skin of the back of his neck, and that just made another shiver run down his spine, “I’ll see you around then!” You said just before melting into the crowds of students as you left. Remus had to stay on his seat for a good 15 minutes after that.
"Moony, you’re not coming?" James asked him as he stood up and started walking with the boys. 
Sirius burst out into a devilish smile “Oh he is cumming, all right!" the boy said. James didn’t get the joke, but Remus groaned and let his head fall on the table. Sirius knew now. BIoody fantastic!
Next thing Remus knew, he was getting the most random boners whenever you were around, and he felt like absolute shit. Especially since you weren’t doing anything that should be causing those kinds of reactions on him. Or at least you weren’t doing them to get him turned on. Leaning down to pick up a pencil that had fallen to the ground and flashing him with the short shorts you wore under your skirt as the two of you walked towards the library shouldn’t have gotten his cock to twitch and yet he had to lie to you and tell you to get ahead of the two since “he had forgotten something”.
He also shouldn’t have gotten a boner when you pressed yourself against him in a hug to wish him a happy birthday, or when you gave him a small kiss on the cheek after he won the Wizards’ Chess contest. To be fair, you weren’t even sure where you’d mustered up the courage for that one, since you had turned so red you had fled the place before you even noticed the small tent on his pants. 
He shouldn’t have gotten one when Bins had you cross over the classroom and used you as a teacher’s assistant to write down things on the board. But he could’ve sworn your shirt was shorter that day, nothing more than a few inches, but there was definitely a lot more skin to see.
The one time he had a boner in the library because he dropped his parchment and leaned in to get it, realizing that for some reason you hadn’t worn your usual shorts and instead under your skirt he could actually see your knickers, was the time he thought it was acceptable. Especially when he did a double-take after he noticed the lacy pattern on your black underwear. Regardless it did nothing to make him not feel like a perv, even less when you leaned down on the table and gave him a rather concerned look “You okay Rem?” you asked “Did you find your parchment?” 
He coughed a couple of times, thankfully the parchment had fallen a bit away from his grasp, and he somehow pointed at it. You nodded in comprehension and extended your leg to kick the parchment towards him, flashing him even more in the process. He had to avert his gaze as soon as your eyes turned back to him “thanks,” he said, voice strained, both of you were back over the table in a second. 
You frowned “Sure you’re okay?” you asked again, leaning in closer with your extended hand just inches away from his face, but you pulled your hand away from him when you realized the apprehensive way he was staring at you. He was thankful, he was sure he might have cum in his pants had you actually placed your hand over his cheek the way you sometimes did. 
Lily had come and get you from the library and he had just stayed there, face hidden under his arms as he cursed himself for being a perv. Then he felt a hand over his leg and almost jumped from his seat, realizing it was just Sirius. 
The blue-eyed boy was looking at his friend with a knowing smile, Remus pulled back just a little “I’ve seen what’s been happening to you.” 
 “You haven’t seen shit,” Remus responded defensively which just got a laugh from Sirius. 
“Moony, if you think I haven’t seen the way you shift in your seat whenever she’s around, or the way you subtly place your bag over your lap in class sometimes, or the way you stayed down the table for a little longer than you would in any normal situation, then–” 
“–Shut it, shut it, shut it,” he said as he attempted to place his hands over Sirius, the other boy just laughed again. 
“I’m here to give you advice,” the other boy said calmly as he grabbed Remus’ wrists to stop them from accidentally hitting him.
Remus eyed him suspiciously “What advice?” 
“Wank it off,” Sirius said with a shrug. 
Remus deadpanned “I’m not gonna,” he started and then added in a hushed tone “wank it off!” 
“It’s the only solution I see, that or you tell her you have the hots for her.” 
“That’s not happening either.” 
“Could do it for you,” the boy shrugged again. “Seduce her and bring her onto your bed.” 
“Sirius, you’re most definitely not going to seduce my crush.” 
“But it’s painful to see you like this,” the other boy said, pointing at the bulge in Remus’ pants that was only now starting to subside. 
“Well then don’t look!” Remus said pointedly, pulled a book from the table and started reading it.  Sirius knew it was useless to say anything after that, but he also knew he had somewhat been successful, the idea had already been planted in his friend’s head. 
And really, it’s not that Remus wanted to think about it, but when he got another boner over you just walking past him, he knew he had to find a solution to his problem. And, in the end, the solution found him instead. You were just walking away from the library when something dropped from your bag, “hey wait you…” he leaned over to pass it on to you, but he noticed then that it was a picture of you. You were wearing a sundress, a milkmaid sundress, pale yellow with small pink flowers, and you were smiling towards the camera as you moved and looked back at the castle behind you. He realized quickly it was Bayern, the castle you told him you had gone to visit on your last summer vacation that had a rather complicated German name he hadn’t cared to memorize.
And while the castle was definitely an impressive feat of architecture, it was half as impressive as you in that sundress. You had shown him several pictures of your trip, but you had never shown him that one, he almost felt like he had been robbed of something from not being able to see you in that dress before. 
“You said something?” You asked, turning around to look at him. He quickly pocketed the small picture and shook his head, pulling the pencil he had been holding on his other hand.
“Just dropped this,” he said with a tight-lipped smile, trying not to let the guilt consume him.
“All right, see you at dinner,” you said as you turned around with a shrug and started walking away from the library.
He could feel the soft edges of the small photograph in his pockets with his hand still inside it, he was aching to get to see you in that bIoody sundress again, so after giving it some thought, that being exactly four seconds, he decided he’d have to skip class that day. Consequences be damned, he had to get to his room.  
In what could easily be considered record time, Remus was already in the common room, running up the stairs and opening the door to his shared room, he walked inside and looked around, trying to make sure there was no one in there. Score, room was empty, even the bathroom. While he started walking to the bed, he started having second thoughts. “You can’t do this” a little voice in his head said “It’s wrong, you’re betraying her trust”. 
Remus tried to shove those thoughts away as he continued feeling the edges of the photograph still safely tucked inside his pocket. He flipped his fingers over one of them and heard the small thump of the paper muffled by the fabric of his pants. Is it really wrong if I…? He wondered. It’s not like you had given him the picture… it's not like you had trusted him with it and he was about to do something heinous with it. In fact, he had stumbled into the picture, it had been all an accident, a coincidence, so if it were to actually wank it off with it, he wouldn’t be doing anything wrong, would he? 
He approached his bed, he’d made a decision, he was sure, a few steps towards it and he was taking another step back, still fidgeting with his hand on the pliant photograph paper. And then he remembered the stash. He leaned under Peter’s bed –where they all kept their shit– and went straight for one of the playwizzard magazines. He started staring at the pictures of the beautiful nude witches, with their huge assets and their surprisingly hot movements. He sat down on his bed and continued staring, making sure to use a spell to lock the door as he started unzipping his pants. 
But the witches were doing fucking nothing, nothing compared to what you did with 4 layers of clothing, nothing compared to his reaction to seeing you in that sundress. “Fuck!” he whispered-screamed frustrated as he threw the magazine to the floor, it falling back into place under Peter’s bed. He let himself fall on it and stared at the ceiling. The fucking photo he knew was still in his pocket weighing like led, he imagined you moving around in it, he remembered how the dress hugged your perfect soft curves from the seconds glimpse he’d gotten at it and… he felt the rush of bIood flowing downward.
“Just this once,” he said to himself as if he really thought he’d be able to stop afterwards “Just this once,” he repeated as he shut the curtains around his bed, out of shame rather than a bigger need of privacy, “just this once…” he repeated as he pulled the picture from his pocket, the back was facing him, there was a small legend on it, written in elegant cursive handwriting, your handwriting. He brushed his finger over it as he read  “Neuschwanstein, Summer 1976”. So that was the name of the castle, he thought as he moved his other hand to his trousers. 
He didn’t turn the picture, not yet, he hoped his imagination would be enough, he hoped that if he didn’t actually look at the picture while doing it, he’d have the moral high ground. He also knew that that was all bullshit from his own head trying to justify his actions. He started rubbing his hand over his trousers, feeling how hard the thought of you had made him. The nude witches from the magazine hadn’t done half that, it had been you.
 “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as he started rubbing, not taking himself out. Not yet, he had to engrave that picture of you deep in his brain before starting, as if it hadn’t been done the moment he spotted it on the floor of the library. 
He continued to rub until he was panting and he stood up, kneeling on the bed instead of sitting down, undoing his button and pulling both his pants and briefs down in a surprisingly swift motion. He was so hard, there was already a bit of precum coming from him. He took a deep breath and placed his hands around himself, he gulped when he did, and then reached forward, flicking his finger over his tip, spreading some of the warm liquid over it, but it wasn’t enough. He brought his hand up and spit on it, using that as a lubricant as he started to move his hand up and down along his shaft. Slow at first, trying to remember the way you looked, but the more he pumped, the foggier his brain got, it was like he couldn’t hold the picture of you in his brain. 
On the spur of the moment, he made a decision he thought he wouldn’t be doing that day, he really, really thought he had an ounce of self restraint until he gave up, and flipped the picture. “Fuck,” was the first thing that came out of his mouth when he saw you, he was fucking thankful the pictures couldn’t talk like portraits did. He continued to pump himself, panting as he started to thrust into his own hand instead. There was something about the movement of his hips that made it more real. He swallowed thickly as he stared at you, your dress rising ever so slightly as you twirled to see the castle behind you. It wasn’t even more than what he had seen when your skirt rode up, or what he had seen that day at the library but it was doing things to him regardless. 
He grabbed a pillow and placed it in front of him, settling the picture over it carefully, still staring at your beautiful smile as he continued to thrust “so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered in between pants, she’s so bIoody stunning, how is it even possible? 
His mind was filled with praises when he finally came, but he was so erratic, so sexdrunk that he didn’t even manage to catch his cum in his hand like he usually did, instead it spilled past his hands and onto the pillow he had placed in front of him, onto the photo. 
When Remus managed to regain a little bit of himself and he noticed what had happened he panicked “What have I done?” he wondered as he pulled the picture up and attempted to clean the sticky hot liquid with the sleeves of his sweater –it was like he had forgotten he was a wizard altogether– but instead of helping it only spread out even more, now being all over your chest. And that, that sent another rush down his body, his gaze darkened as he stared, lips parted, not believing what was going on. 
He looked down, the twitch on his cock hadn’t been his imagination, it had actually fucking happened “What the bIoody fuck!” he whispered as he went to pat himself again, he would be sore as fuck later that day, but he didn’t give a bIoody damn about it. Completely forgetting his initial worry, he went at it again, when he was done, he came even harder, over the picture again, but this time, it had been intentional. Something about ruining that dress made his brain tick. When he was done, he just let himself fall on the bed, face down, not caring to adjust his pants, only turning his pillow around so he wouldn’t be sleeping directly over his cum. 
As he laid down face looking to the side, he pulled the picture from the side and stared at it, he was fucking spent, and yet he felt his cock twitch yet again as he saw your figure covered in his seed. You were fucking stunning in that dress. He fell asleep like that. Pillow with cum underneath, half-naked, and with your cum filled picture standing right next to his face. 
When he woke up again, it was because he heard someone trying to open the door. He jolted awake, pulled his pants up and used his wand to clean the bottom of his pillow and some of his shirts, some of it was sticky, while other bits were just staining the sheets with a cloudy white stain. He pocketed the picture, the one he didn’t care to clean, and walked towards the door. 
“Remus?” Sirius asked when he opened the door “Why weren’t you in class today?” 
“I was feeling off,” Remus lied, standing right in front of Sirius and blocking his view of the bed. It was clean, really, but he had forgotten to undraw the curtains “Had a headache.”
“But we’re pretty far from that time of the month,” Sirius said casually, then he spotted the edge of the magazine under Peter’s bed, and Remus’ bed too, the one his friend had been so adamant to clock out of his view and he smiled “Should’ve told me,” he said with a smirk and pointed at the magazine “I’ve got better ones.” 
Remus gasped “No I didn’t… I didn’t use that,” he shut his own mouth and cursed under his breath when he realized what he had involuntarily admitted to doing.
“No problem,” Sirius said with a smile “I was starting to worry about you and your obsessive little crush.” Remus gave him a reproachful look, Sirius just ignored it “She’s in the common room, you know? She was worried about you.”
“She was?” 
“Said she was waiting for you at dinner,” Sirius responded with a shrug. Remus looked at his friend surprised and turned to the clock on the wall “It’s that fucking late?” 
Sirius nodded, and smiled as he saw Remus walk past him and towards the door again “Go get her lover boy,” he said as he waved Remus goodbye with a smile. 
That day, since you hadn’t seen him, you’d brought him food over, and the two of you had some snacks by the fire, you had leaned into him a little, craving his warmth since the night had gotten cold, even if it was already spring. He thought he’d be giving you your photograph back that day, but he just couldn’t, not while it was still stained with his cum, so the picture stayed. Safely in his pocket as you waved goodbye and walked up to your room with a soft smile on your face. 
The picture had almost become part of his routine, whenever he was feeling too uneasy around you, or turned on for that matter, he sneaked to a private place in the castle and took matters into his own hands. At first, he was shameful for it, cheeks burning as he stared at you, but the more he did it, the less shame he felt. 
Eventually though, he heard you talking to Marlene about having lost a photograph that you really liked, and that you would straight up kiss anyone who found it because you had to give it back to your mom, who said she’d get you a duplicate if you really wanted it. 
Remus felt terrible, he’d been using the picture to wank while you had been looking for it because you had to give it back? That night, he shut his curtains, used muffliato all over and he did it one last time –technically a couple of them– and fell asleep staring at the picture, trying to memorize it completely, especially the dried blotches of cum and how they looked over you. Fucking pervert, he thought as he finally used his wand to clean it up, leaving it like brand new. 
The next day, he approached you on your way to the library, “Hey little witch,” he said as he approached you. 
You loved it when he called you names, it made you feel special. You turned around trying not to grin, which was almost your automatic reaction to hearing his voice “Hey Rem,” you responded with a smile. 
“I’ve got something for you,” he said as he bit his bottom lip. 
You gave him a surprised look and approached him “You do?” He nodded. “What is it?” 
“I found something you were looking for,” he said as he pulled the picture from his pocket. 
“Remus!” you said, not bothering to hide your excitement “You found my picture,” you smiled “I was worried it’d end up in the wrong hands…”
Remus averted your gaze, yeah like mine, he thought, but then turned to you with a smile, he decided to tease you “And where is my reward?” he asked with a cocky smile, you looked at him puzzled. “Didn’t you say you’d kiss whoever found it?” 
You gave him a smile, not sure whether he was joking or not, but decided to oblige him, pulling him down by placing a hand on his shoulder and standing on your toes just a little before placing the smallest little peck to his cheeks “Thank you, my hero!” you said with a smile as you pulled away, a slight sarcastic tint to it. 
All thought he’d asked for it, he was not expecting for you to actually go through with it. He coughed a bit and smiled, pointing at the picture as he tried to regain composure “the dress,” he said, “it looks really nice, you should wear it more often.” 
And those words were all you needed for him to say, you knew you had a Hogsmade outing on the weekend, so no matter what, you’d have to find that dress. You had been rummaging through your bottomless trunk for at least an hour when Marlene finally turned to you, looking at the mess of scattered clothes all around, and noting your distressed little expression. 
“What’s wrong darling, you lost something?” she asked. 
“Sort of,” you said, “I’m looking for my dress.” 
“Your dress? Which dress?” she asked. 
You pulled the picture and handed it over to her. She took in her hands and gave you a low whistle “You look stunning, luv. Who do we want to impress?” 
Your head snapped towards her with a small gasp “Impress!?” 
Marlene just smiled “Come on,” she said, “you wouldn’t be looking for it so frantically if it wasn’t for the fact that you wanted to garner someone’s attention.” She sat on your bed and stared at you, head tilted “Is it Remus?” You flushed. “It is Remus!” she added excitedly. 
You shook your head as you sighed, not bothering to hide it from her and nodded “he found the photo, he said the dress looked good on me.” 
“Bet he did,” she said, diverted and leaned in closer to notice the slightly worn edges of the picture, she turned it around a couple of times before noticing a small rip. She shuddered and let the picture fall on the bed. Looking at you and the photo and then back at you with shock “How long did he have it?” 
You shrugged in response, still dipping your head inside your trunk and pulling piece after piece of clothing “Not sure, he said he found it and brought it over.” 
Marlene looked at you suspiciously, not daring to take the picture again, were you that naive? “How long was it lost?” 
“‘Bout three weeks or so, I think…” you said as if it didn’t matter now that you knew where the picture was “fuck, it’s nowhere!” you whined as you continued to throw pieces of clothing behind you.
“Honey I think he…” she shut herself. And looked back at the pic, not taking in her hands again. She frowned, trying to decide whether to tell you or not. 
“hmm?” you said, turning to her.  
“I think you’ll look stunning in it,” she said, opting not to tell you “Come on, let me help,” she said as she stood up and walked beside you, helping you dig through the trunk until you found it. It was better if you didn’t know what he had been doing with that picture. All though, knowing you like she did, you might have been turned on by the idea anyway.
She was the one who found it, she stood with it and helped you carefully hang it on the bed as she used a steamer spell to get rid of the wrinkles. All the while you were using some levitating spells to put all the clothes back on the trunk. You’d told her you’d make sure to clean it up later. 
The boys were already at “The Three Broomsticks” since they had promised to get in ahead of you to find a table. And you had promised Lily you’d go to the hair stylist with her. You weren’t there to get anything done, but somehow she convinced you to let them style your hair in a nice way. She thought a bit of extra magic would look really nice with your dress “So you can woe Remus.” she’d said. As Remus needed anything other than your sole existence to be wooed. 
When you were both done, her red locks were perfectly done up and cut, your own hair styled in a way that you looked just like a princess, the two of you finally walked towards the spot you always shared with the boys. Marlene, and Mary were already there. Marlene was talking about Quidditch with James and they were waiting for you to ask you some things before the next match in a couple of weeks while Remus and Sirius were talking about something else. 
Sirius was the one who spotted you come in through the door, and him being Sirius, whistled shamelessly, garnering the attention of every single person in the table, and even some from other people around them “Look at them go, you look stunning girls!” 
Remus was about to reprimand Sirius for his crassness when he turned to see you. And when he noticed exactly what you were wearing, his mouth went dry, a rush of bIood going straight down his body. He never expected to actually see you in that dress in real life. To him, it was like a dream, a fantasy, but now it was real, and it made him grow pale, and hold his breath as you walked towards them and he saw the fabric ripple around you as you walked. Is that a– the dress has a leg slit?, he thought as he stared, swallowing hard and trying to snap himself out of the trance. 
Marlene noticed, of course, she noticed. And she tried to hide a snicker, by drinking some water but ended up coughing instead. Remus, who had been sitting next to her, didn’t even notice, so she hit him lightly “asshole,” she said. He turned to her rather confused. “I almost choked?”  
“Oh… really? Didn’t notice… want me to get you a napkin?” He asked politely, his eyes turning to her only briefly before going to you and then back and forth. 
Marlene rolled her eyes “No need, ooze at your little witch instead.” She made sure to use the nickname he had given you in a rather mocking manner. 
He snapped his head towards her now, paying full attention “I wasn’t– I mean I…” 
Marlene just shook her head and stood up, a wicked little smile appearing on her lips as she grabbed your shoulders “Take my spot, will you?” She said with a smile “I’m going to the bathroom real quick, that way we don’t move everyone when I’m back.” 
“You sure?” you asked, catching the fact that she had been sitting next to Remus. 
“Positive,” she added with a smile as she basically pushed you next to Remus and took off. You turned to her with a reproachful stance but took a deep breath and turned your head back around, rising in your seat just a little bit as you tried to accommodate the dress. The slit and the harsh way in which she had pushed you inside the booth caused one side of the dress to dip behind your leg, exposing it completely. 
Remus noticed, and his gaze lingered just for a little bit before turning towards the front, glaring holes at the napkin holder as he tried to both think of a naked Dumbledore to cool down and etch the curve of your legs in his brain for later use. 
Sirius, the other person at the table who knew what was going on, was a nice enough friend to hand Remus a glass of cold water. When Marlene came back, she had brought over some Butterbeer for everyone, and Lily had stood up to ask for some snacks at the counter. Marlene had sat an awful lot closer to you than she needed when she came back, with one sole purpose, to press you into Remus. 
“Sorry,” You said, looking up at him when the girl laughed and you ended up shoulder to shoulder. 
He looked down at you, staring with the softness he always used on you and smiled “No problem darling.” 
Marlene smiled, and when she saw Frank and Alice she called them over “Sit with us guys,” she said with a wicked smile. Alice gave her a look, knowing she was up to something just by looking at her expression. So even if she originally planned a date with just Frank, she decided to pull him along. 
“I’ll go get a chair,” the boy said as he approached the table. 
“Don’t be silly, we all fit in here,” Sirius said when he figured out what Marlene was doing, “I’ll just sit on Prongs’ lap,” He said before the two of them accommodated, allowing Lily and to move over and subsequently for Mary to do the same, successfully making enough space for Alice to sit in there. 
Remus was throwing pleading looks at his friend when Mary spoke “Careful Lils, Sirius might steal your man.” 
She chuckled, “he can keep him for all I care,” she joked, James pouted in response. 
“I guess I can sit on Frank’s…” Alice started. 
“Don’t be ridiculous luv!” Marlene said “You’re our guest,” she said, “(Y/N) can sit on Remus’ lap.” You threw her a look, and she just gave you an expectant smile.  
“Well as long as it doesn’t bother you,” you said, turning to Remus who swallowed but shook his head. Sirius was holding his need to laugh when you kind of stood up and placed yourself over Remus’ lap. And he wanted to laugh because Remus’ face was just priceless. He had his eyes shut tight, and he might have also been holding his breath. Sirius just honestly hoped you didn’t find one of those surprises that Remus often had when you were around. 
“So, what were you planning guys?” Lily asked as everyone started to get comfortable. Remus had placed his hands on the table, close enough to yours so they were brushing against each other, it made you feel butterflies.
“We were just going to have dinner and then walk around a little bit. Alice wanted to restock on her strawberry gum before going back too.” 
“Yeah, we didn’t have any strong plans, what about you guys?” Alice added. 
“Well Zonko’s is our mandatory spot, but we went there earlier,” Sirius responded as he pulled one of the breads from the center and split it in two, “Want some?” he asked looking at you and you nodded and handed it over, then he turned back to Alice.
You took a bit of your bread to bring it over to your mouth and turned back to them “Lils and I went to the hair salon.” 
“So that’s why you both look so stunning,” Alice said, by then, Frank who had stood up earlier had brought back two other butterbeers, one for himself and the other for his fiancé.
You then turned to Remus, who you realized was grabbing onto the edge of the table “Are you okay?” you asked him, concerned. Freaking Marlene, she didn’t even consider Remus might be uncomfortable, you thought. 
The boy looked at you, focusing like he had been thinking of something else and nodded “Yeah sorry, don’t know what to do with my hands,” he admitted, pulling them slightly from where they were brushing against yours. 
You looked at him, and grabbed his hands in yours, pulling them towards your lap, not quite wrapping them around your waist, but almost “You can put them there, I don’t mind.” 
Remus gulped but nodded. He could barely stop thinking at the way you felt pressed against him. Your legs on top of his were already enough to drive him crazy, but now his hands on top of your legs? He had to grab the butterbeer and bring it up to his lips to cool himself down again, drinking about half the bottle in one go. 
You pulled another piece of bread to your mouth and realised he had been staring at your hands, mistakenly, you assumed it was because he was hungry, you grabbed another bit and hovered it just about his mouth “Want some?” 
Remus just leaned in and took the piece you offered him munching on it as he tried to concentrate on the flavour. Other than the fact that he was struggling not to make it obvious how turned on he was, he thought the domesticity you were showing was overly nice.
But then you leaned in to grab another piece of bread from the far side of the table, and the smell of your hair got all the way to him, and then he looked at your soft smooth looking back that was a lot more exposed than normally and he fucked up. 
When you leaned back in your place, you felt it. You almost gasped. But then realised that it must have been your imagination. Surely there was no way you leaning onto the table like that would garner such a reaction from him. Right?
Regardless, you were too curious to just let it slip by, so you repeated your action. This time you noticed his breath catch on his throat as he emitted the quietest little gasp you’d ever heard. And so when you went back to your spot, you just grabbed your bread and started munching on it as you tried to keep a straight, not completely surprised face. 
You thought about not moving at all for a while, so Remus could sort out whatever was going on by himself. Really, it would have been the merciful thing to do. To freeze in your place, let him cool down and pretend it never happened. Unfortunately for him –or perhaps fortunately– you had never been merciful, not when you were playing quidditch, not when you were destroying your opponent in magic chess and you certainly wouldn’t start then.
Besides, if he really had been turned on by you and not by some other external factor, then you doing what you were about to do might have been all the proof you needed to know if Remus actually liked you back. 
At first, you didn’t want to make it obvious. And pretended you hadn’t noticed his reaction to you, which had him relax, if ever so slightly. But then you leaned in again, this time to Lily, and you made a small little gesture with your hand to have her lean into you too, telling her something silly about the homework. Leaning back toward Remus and then repeating the same action while pretending you had forgotten to say something. 
When you went back to your place, you pressed yourself against the boy a little harder, smiling when you realised that it must definitely have been you the one causing such a reaction in Moony. Your resolve only solidified when you felt his hands – which were still lying atop of your tights, ball into tight fists, his whole body tightening under you, in fact. 
Still, the boy hadn’t noticed you were doing it on purpose and he hoped to the heavens you hadn’t noticed what was going on with him. The possibility that you thought what you were feeling was keys or something else in his pockets was at least comforting.
You smiled, almost wickedly as you thought of yet another excuse to roll your hips atop of his, “Please stop moving,” he whispered in your ears after he grabbed your arms and forced you to lean closer to him. 
“Am I too heavy? Sorry…” You said aiming to stand up but going back down a second later, pretending it had been accidental. Remus cursed under his breath, feeling like shit for being so turned on over you… just existing. 
“No, you– you were just squeezing my tight.” He said, voice rougher than usual. 
You revelled in the reactions you were getting from him. “Oh sorry,” you said and rolled your hips to the side, his breath hitched in his throat, “This better?” 
 “I-“ he started, not quite being able to emit a full sentence. 
You held a smile and tolled your hips to the other side “And this?” you asked, still in an innocent tone. 
“fuck…” 
You bit your lip to not smile, turning your body to him and leaning on one of his legs instead, placing your hand on his cheek “Are you okay?” you asked, fake concern laced in your words, he was too far gone to notice. 
“Yeah, sorry I just, I feel like I should… Perhaps I can…” 
“Want me to stand up?” You asked with a small pout “If I’m making you uncomfortable the just–” 
“–No!” he said a little too suddenly, “I’m fine, you’re fine, everything’s fine.” At least with your ass pressed only to only one of his tights, he was starting to relax again. Even if the slit of your dress had repeated its action from earlier and had your leg a lot more exposed than before. He noticed, and you noticed he noticed. 
And so, doing the boldest thing you had ever done in your life, you spread your legs open just a wee bit more, letting the slit fall further behind and letting your leg show just a tad more. Remus swallowed thickly as he stared “discreetly”, which just made your mouth dry. 
You then turned back to the front, since Peter had arrived with the food, fish and chips and some other casual dishes. You moved yourself again, this time facing the front and pressing your ass straight to his crotch. You didn’t care for pretending anymore, you wanted to see how far you could push him, so you rolled your hips against him once. Leaned down for a fry and then rolled them again, two times this time. 
Remus’ breath was heavy, he was looking at you in shock, at this point he was so hard there was no way you hadn’t noticed. He saw you lean forwards, your movement different from the first time you’d done it, you were perking your ass against him, and when you leaned back you rolled your hips three times, basically grinding onto him as you did. 
That’s when he realised, and the next time you leaned for a chip, he pulled his hands from your lap and wrapped them around your hips tightly before pulling you back onto him, harshly, making sure to press you against him in a way that made you gasp in shock, he leaned onto your ear “Thought I wouldn’t notice little witch?” he whispered. 
Your mouth went dry, you weren’t sure anything anyone had ever told you made you feel that turned on in your life. Still, you decided to continue playing your own little game “Whatever do you mean Rem?” you asked innocently, turning your head to him, feeling his hot breath against your cheek. 
He chuckled, tightening his grip on your hips before pushing you down onto him again “Stop pretending, or this won’t stop till I’ve had my fill.” 
Your eyes shone at the idea, you tried to roll your hips against his again but his grip was way too tight “Is that… a promise?” 
Remus chuckled again before forcing your hips to roll against him again, pulling his head in a bit of an angle so he could whisper in your ear without anyone realising it, “It was a threat, but you can call it whatever you like sweetheart.” 
You smiled wickedly “Then I still have no clue what you mean,” you replied with another of those innocent smiles of yours, while you pulled the dress a little bit higher. 
Remus held back a groan as he looked at you, teasing him like you didn’t know any better. Like you didn’t know how many dreams of railing you in that dress he’d had in the past couple of weeks. 
In the middle of your little rendezvous, Sirius noticed something was going on, it was in the way Remus was regarding you really, same stare the wolf used often, fucking famished.  “Hey Moons! Didn’t you say you had to go to the castle early for that potions project of yours?” he asked, eyeing Marlene. 
“Right, same one you’ve been working on, isn’t it darling? You should go together,” she said, turning to you. 
Remus shot a small little sneaky smile at Padfoot and nodded “You’re right,” Remus said calmly “Both of you,” he said giving each of them a look, and then turned to you, “shall we go?”
You gulped, eyes as dark as his own “Yeah, we should.” 
Frank, Marlene and Peter got off from the booth so you could both get out, you were the first one up and Remus followed, placing himself behind you so no one could see the tent in his pants, but also because he enjoyed pressing himself onto you a little too much. 
You pulled your wallet and took out a couple of bills, “Remus’ is on me,” you said with a smile. 
Sirius snickered when he thought, Well, he certainly will be. Which was rather similar to what Remus thought as his eyes darkened. 
“If I help you with your homework will you also be paying for my butterbeer?” James teased. 
You smiled “How many butterbeers do you owe me then Prongs?” 
He gasped at your bold little response and you waved at everyone with a smile. Remus had placed his hand on your neck, Thumb brushing against your spine as he turned the both of you around and prompted you to move forward. Once outside you saw a small little alleyway that seemed just dark enough for the two of you “Remus, look–“ 
“Not there,” he said, “too dark.” 
You turned to him a little surprised. “What? You want to do it out in the open then?” 
He leaned over “Little witch, I haven’t been dreaming of you in that fucking dress for weeks so we end up fucking in a dark little corner where I won’t be able to see it properly.” 
The shiver those words sent down your spine was unprecedented, that was until you realised exactly what he had said. Weeks? That must be a mistake. “Does that mean you had the photo for…” 
“Yes, weeks,” he confirmed, not even caring to hide it anymore. “It’s clean now, don’t worry,” he added. 
“What do you mean it’s…” the words died out in your mouth, you knew exactly what he meant “Remus!” you admonished, half shocked, half complaining, but totally turned on.
“Got a problem?! Don’t leave you’re fucking photos laying in the ground for anyone else to see.” He said, the fact that he was using such crass language, something he tended to avoid around you was proof enough of how out of control he was at the moment “Coud end in the wrong hands.” 
You looked around “Where are you taking me?” you asked when you noticed you were walking towards the forest. 
“To a place almost as beautiful as you,” he said simply. Your bIood rushed to your cheeks. Fucking Remus John Lupin, he had you and he had you bad, “you do trust me, right?” he added leaning into your ears. 
This was definitely revenge for what you had done to him back at the pub. You somehow managed to nod and he smiled. The two of you walked along the forest for a couple of minutes, until you saw some light, the darkness and trees opened into a small circle, there were small floating pollen spores that you could only see when the sun hit them right, and the shadows the tall trees cast on the ground made the entire place look like it was something out of a fairy tale. Even the air… it smelled of magic. Perhaps the fairies would fly away scared after the two invaded their home, terrified of the debauchery that was about to occur… or perhaps they'd see the two of you together, looking so merry, that they would dance and party along with you, from their small little nooks hidden inside the roots of the trees.
The beauty of the place made you almost forget why you were there all together. Almost. Remus had brought you closer to him, wrapping his fingers around your waist and pressing himself onto you. He was still hard. It hadn’t been a long walk but you assumed that… Well, perhaps you didn’t know shit about male anatomy, let alone werewolf anatomy. You pressed your hips against him and he stifled a moan. 
You turned around and placed your hand on his cheek again, echoing the action you had done at the pub, but this time using it to bring him down for a kiss. First, it was just a small little one on the side of his mouth, but as you were pulling away he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you back in. 
It started slow, he started slow. Like he was savouring every inch of your lips before pressing his tongue against them, you let your own part, and the two of them started dancing against each other. You tried to deepen the kiss, to make it faster, but Remus was slow and steady and demanding. He was not about to let you rush him through this. 
No, Remus Lupin had dreamed of this moment for way too fucking long to let you be fast and desperate about it. “Remus I…” you whined.
“Shhhh little witch…” he coed “We need to take our time, make sure you’re ready–“ 
“I am ready,” you said as you pulled his hand from your neck and dragged it towards your core, when his fingers brushed over your wet panties he could not stop the curse that slipped through his mouth. 
“So fucking wet already. And just for the kissing–” 
“No.” 
“No?”
“It’s been like that since the pub.”
Remus chuckled, diverted at your boldness before he stared at you, at the dress again. Half of him wanted to rip it apart to see all of you, but the other one, the one that had made him fuck himself into his own hands so many times, wanted you to keep it on. He wanted to fuck you in that dress until it was filled with grass and dirt and cum. He wanted to fucking ruin you. You weren’t making it easy for him to hold back either. 
You noticed the way he was staring and placed your hand on the back of the dress, starting to unzip it when he placed his hands over yours and dragged them away from it, pulling the zipper back up and whispering in your ear “Keep it on.”  It wasn’t a question, it was a command.
“What? But… you won’t be able to– Will it be enough?” 
Remus looked at you in disbelief, raising his eyebrows as he nodded towards the tent in his pants “More than fucking enough.” He pulled you back in towards him, gliding his hands down your tights and sliding one of them through the slit, “I didn’t know the dress had a slit when I was using it to get off,” he whispered, hot breath against your ear making you shiver, you were about to crumble onto him “I imagine I would have… let my imagination run wild with it.” 
“Let your imagination run with it now,” you replied and pulled on his hair to bring him back to your mouth. He groaned at the harsh movement, and you almost fucking melted into him after he made that sound. “Remus! You’re too tall,” you complained in between kisses and you pressed your hands onto his shoulders to bring him further down. He smiled onto the kiss, but allowed you to push him down until you were both kneeling on the soft mossy grass. He was still too fucking tall “sit.”
“Sit?” he asked diverted, raising an eyebrow teasingly. 
“Yes, sit,” you said again, pushing him on the chest just hard enough to have him tumble back, ass on the ground as he stared at you, amusement evident on his face. Of course, had Remus actually wanted to stay up, your small little blow to his chest wouldn’t have done shit, but he liked how desperate you were. 
He looked up at you, still on your knees as you looked back at him, eyes blown with lust “I like it when you take charge like this,” he joked. 
You scoffed diverted “Shut the fuck up Moony, I’ll–“
“Make me,” he interrupted you, brattily. 
How many fucking romance novels had this boy read? “I’m sorry?” 
He just smiled wider, he knew what he was doing. He knew exactly what he was doing to you and he was getting a kick out of it. “I said… make me.” 
You wanted to scoff, but instead, you climbed on top of him pressing yourself against his cock and leaning in for a kiss, but not allowing your lips to touch. It’s what he wanted, really. You knew because you had probably read those same novels. Instead, you rocked your hips into his, and he gasped. Remus leaned in to kiss you but you pulled back and brushed your cheeks through his as you leaned over to whisper in his ear, rocking your hips against his once more before speaking “You were saying?” 
His mouth went dry, he was not expecting so much push and pull with you, he almost always imagined you as a little bunny he would ruin, but it seemed like you were as much of a wolf as he was, which was somehow even better, hotter, it made his whole fucking body feel like it was on fire, which was exactly what you were feeling as you felt his crotch rub straight against your wet panties. The friction making you feel things you didn’t consider possible. 
“Fuck,” he whispered, which only furthered your conviction “Darling if you-“ he groaned as you ground against him yet again “keep this up, I’m not gonna– not gonna last,” he somehow managed to get out. 
“Then stop me,” you said with a wicked smile. Remus pulled you back, to stare at your face, you still had that expression and he quirked one of his eyebrows. “Must I repeat myself?” 
Remus scoffed, biting his lips when he felt you roll your hips against his again, which got a hiss in return. When he was sure you were okay with it, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you back on his legs, just enough so you wouldn’t be able to continue grinding against his crotch. And then he lifted you up with remarkable ease before laying you on the mossy grass floor. 
Your hair sprawled around your face, your cheeks were flushed and your eyes so blown with lust they almost looked black, he wasn’t sure you’d ever looked prettier in his life. He hovered over you and you opened your legs for him, pulling them up to try and chase his, but he pulled them back, you gave him a desperate pout. Which made you look even more adorable. 
Remus placed one of his hands on your hips to hold them down and brought the other one to your legs, he was taking his sweet time as he brushed it over your leg, savouring the feeling of your soft skin against his hands, pressing lightly as he brushed over your calves and brushing your inner thigh with utmost care, you felt like you were at the common room all over again. The recurrent dream you had coming back to you in an instant.
“Remus,” you whined, as you tried to push your hips up only to be stopped by his dextrous hands. You heard him chuckle, voice hoarse still. 
“Let me enjoy the view darling, you don’t know how pretty you look right now.” 
“Well, enjoy while touching,” you said, pulling the dress as far as you could and placing your hand over the one on your hips to bring it down to your core. 
There was no shame in your movements, there was no fear, you’d let him touch you wherever he wanted and that made Remus’ cock twitch in his pants “Perhaps you shouldn’t be putting so much trust in a wolf’s hands…” he said as he rubbed his thumb over your wet underwear. Failing to keep up his smug grin when he realised just how wetter you’d gotten them, the small little surprise eased a smile on his face. And since you were looking so attentively at it –at his beautiful, perfect, licentious face– you noticed. 
Deciding to tease him further you rolled your hips against his thumb, feeling the way the rest of them pressed against the top of your slit, warm and kind, even as they pushed you back down again with relatively strong force “Maybe you’re just a sheep in a wolf’s skin,” you whispered breathlessly. 
“Isn’t that saying meant to be the other way around?” 
You started to laugh, easily being shut up by his thumb sliding to the side and back again, this time dipping inside your panties and rubbing through your hole “Shit,” you breathed. 
Remus smiled, realising how much you whimpered when one of his scars brushed against your clit. He tortured you with it for a few seconds before he pressed his thumb against it, earning a gasp from you. “A sheep in a wolf’s skin, eh?” he asked as he loomed over you, one hand still on your clit and the other one to prompt himself up, looking at your elated little face, and the microexpressions you made whenever he did something right.
You managed to somehow regain back focus, just enough to smirk in between a moan, “just a sheep,” you repeated. And he inserted a digit against you. You gasped again. 
But he was just as shocked as you were, “So tight,” he whispered, “It’s not going to fit…” he said more to himself. You pushed your hips against his finger, wanting to feel some fiction. 
“It will,” you reassured “Please Remus…” you begged then.
He almost came there and then. You were pleading for him to continue, fucking pleading. He complied. He started moving his finger inside and out, careful and soft at first, like he didn’t want to hurt you, keeping his eyes trained on your face to make sure you were okay as he dug deeper inside you. Your face was dazed in pleasure, almost too far gone when you felt another finger. 
You frowned, and he stopped moving “Hurts?” he asked concerned laced in his tone. 
You took a deep breath “No… just, give me a second…” You said as you tried to adjust to the feeling.  After just a couple more seconds, it was you who was pushing against his fingers. You hadn’t even realised when he had pulled his thumb and replaced it with his index and middle finger, but they were longer, and they reached places they hadn’t done before. You only figured it out when he started rubbing circles against your clit like he had done at first. 
And you moaned his name as he picked up the pace. The pleasure was so big you didn’t even realize he was actually preparing you, slowly moving his fingers as he rubbed and trusted so he could stretch you out, so he could actually fuck you the way he wanted. 
He reached a point you hadn’t even managed to reach yourself ever before and you bit your lips so hard you drew bIood, he figured it out in a second and continued to rub against the spot until he had you wrapping your hands around his tightly, he knew you were close, so he smiled and continued pumping even as you tried to reduce the friction, which had you coming undone after a couple of seconds. Your breath was ragged, your hands loosened as you lost yourself to the pleasure. He helped you down from your high, still pumping his fingers in and out, slower now, almost painfully slow. 
When he finally stopped, he pulled them out slowly and then brought his fingers straight to his mouth, and the guttural moan that escaped his lips when he wrapped them around his fingers and tasted set you ablaze yet again.  You reached your hand for his crotch and started grazing your delicate fingers against him. He was still looming over you, and you smiled when his stance faltered. 
You went straight to the button of his dress pants, and then pulled the zipper down, pressing your hand over his briefs, and you finally understood why he thought it wasn’t going to fit. Your fault for falling in love with such a tall boy. You heard him whimper above you and it only made your resolve strengthen, you pulled your hands inside his briefs now. When he felt your hands around him, not his rough hands- but your soft, small hands, around him he crumbled into you, his face buried into the crook of your neck as you stroked him. 
You were soft, and kind to him, at first… But you started picking up the pace when he pressed his mouth to your neck and started sucking against the soft skin, and against your collarbone, and then further enough to reach to the valley of your breasts. He looked up at you, lust filled his eyes as he leaned his cheek into your chest but he did nothing. 
You were almost too far gone to realise he was asking for permission, but he used his mouth to nudge the string that tied the section that gave the “milkmaid dress” its name and you instantly understood what he wanted. You nodded and he used his mouth to pull the small little bow you had made earlier undone.  Using the now-added space to trail his mouth to the valley of your breasts. You tightened the grip around him when you felt his hot breath against your nipples, and you did it again when you felt his mouth wrapped around one of them. 
“fuck,” You whispered. He hummed in response, his own moans being drowned out by your soft skin, as he licked and sucked and nipped to his heart’s content. But then you did something that almost got him over the edge, and he bit your soft skin almost a little too hard. You had moved your hand up and had started to rub his tip. You might have known shit about male anatomy, but if books had taught you something, it was that, that was the most sensible part of a man’s cock. From his reaction, it was just the same for a werewolf. 
“Okay, that’s enough!” he said roughly as he pulled your hand off him and pushed it over your head, taking the other one somewhere along the way and keeping them both in place with one of his own. He was still accommodating one of his hands to carefully hold both of yours down when you chased your hips against his. He gave you an impassive look and you just repeated the action again, a teasing smile dancing on your lips. He narrowed his eyes at you and you had the nerve to shrug innocently in response, or at least attempt a shrug, since both of your hands were still stretched over your head. 
He chuckled at that, shaking his head as he used his free hands to tug your underwear down. The cold caused you to shiver, but it didn’t last long, he was already rubbing himself into your entrance. The feeling made you quaver, you were desperate to have him, but you also understood what he was doing. He was coating himself in your slick. 
After a few more thrusts to your slick and he lined himself against your entrance. When he was ready, you pulled your hips up and his tip slewed over you and graced your already sensitive clit, you did it again, but then he pushed you down, hands digging into your flesh as he set your hips back on the grass, giving you a warning look. 
You smiled teasingly and attempted to do it again, but his hands were digging against your pelvis and you barely managed to squirm under him, “please just fuck me,” you said with a pout. 
“I was about to do that when you decided to tease,” he responded, a fake annoyance laced in his words. You let out a sigh but you felt him line against your entrance again. Your breath hitched in your throat and stopped squirming, allowing him to move his hand from your hips to guide himself inside. 
He was slow and didn’t go all the way in at first, paying close attention to your face as he slid inside, breath heavy “You’re so fucking tight,” he whispered. You were panting as well, but managed to bring your hips up to help him bury more of himself inside you, he gasped, and dug his hands back on your hips, forcing you to still. Fucking Remus and his fucking werewolf strength, you thought as you attempted to writhe. 
Remus was damn thankful he had played so many scenarios in his head as he touched himself, he wasn’t sure if he would have lasted half as long as he had if he hadn’t already pictured you in so many different ways. But even with so many, he hadn’t expected you to be so damn tight. When you kept squirming, he jerked forwards, dipping himself entirely inside you. 
You moaned, your face in that mix of pleasure and pain he hadn’t yet managed to decipher “You okay?” he asked to your ear, his voice a mix between a whisper and a groan. 
You nodded and clenched around him in response, he cursed under his breath. He wasn’t sure if he wasn’t moving because he was letting you adjust, or because he was trying not to instantly cum. You just felt so fucking good.
He could feel you breathing under him, your belly rising and falling almost alongside his, and he closed his eyes, just enjoying the feeling of being so close to you, so impossibly close. But you weren’t as patient. You hadn’t had as much practice with your own hand like he had, and you were desperate for him to move again. You tightened your muscles one more time. He cursed under his breath, and then you tried squirming under him. 
“Please, little witch,” he begged, he wasn’t sure what exactly he was begging for, when his head decided to cooperate he managed to speak again, still in your ear “let me adjust.”
You squirmed under him again “adjust while fucking me.”
He bit his lip, pulled back slowly and thrusted back in with a lot more strength, you gasped, but relished on the feeling of him finally moving “Such a crass language my luv,” he said in between another of those harsh trusts. You were squirming under him again, this time it wasn’t on purpose. You pulled your hands under his sweater, you wanted to feel his skin. 
He faltered at that, like it was a part of him he didn’t want you to see, let alone to feel, but when your fingers started brushing over one of his scars, in such a fucking adoring way, he couldn’t help but melt into you, he was sure he’d let you do whatever the hell you’d wanted to him. 
You started bucking your hips against his, meeting his rhythm as best as you could, he was still being mindful of you as he continued his thrusts, too scared to hurt you. It was only when you fastened your pace that he did the same. 
You whined his name, a little more desperate now, he knew you were close but he wasn’t sure the angle was enough for you, so he leaned closer “Would you,” thrust “mind it if I–” thrust “flipped you around?” 
You wrapped your hands around his hair, letting them roam over him as you brought him over for a sloppy kiss, he instantly knew that was your answer. He took you out of him, you chased your hips back to his almost unwittingly, and you saw his resolve falter, but he got it back as quickly and used his strong hands to wrap them around your hips and flip you around. You had your face against the grass, turning your neck to try and see what he was doing when he took off his sweater. 
He leaned over you, you could feel his cock pressed against your ass, but he was carefully bunching the soft fabric, raising your head with his hand and cautiously placing it under your head. Fucking sheep in the skin of a wolf, you thought, he’s too freaking kind. 
You were still nursing that line of thought when you felt him thrust against you again, a lot harsher now, you straight up moaned at that, and he smiled as he continued his thrusts, in and out, until you were mindlessly pushing yourself against him again. You felt one of his hands slide in between your thighs, he started rubbing circles to your clit, repeatedly. You were losing yourself to him. To his hips thrusting into yours with a lot more force, to his heavy breaths and panting, to every moan and gasp and whimper and groan he emitted. They all sounded so beautiful to you. 
He continued rubbing, he was determined to make you come at least a couple of times, he had come enough to your photo, he wanted to return the favour. He realised your hips were chasing his skin and he took off the soft cotton shirt he was still wearing when he leaned over and placed his hand around your waist, pulling you up to his chest. 
You let your head fall against his shoulder as he continued thrusting, you weren’t sure you’d be able to form a coherent sentence even if you tried, so you just leaned in and placed sloppy kisses on his jaw, or to the section of it that you had access to now. He heard you moan when he quickened the pace of his hands on your clit, the other one still tightly around your ribs pushing you flush against him. 
The feeling of his skin against your back was immeasurably perfect, you almost wished you could take off your dress to feel more of skin against you. You supposed it’d have to be for another time. You whined when he brought you to your climax yet again, the way your muscles clenched around him making him almost feral, he leaned in closer to you, “I’m going to…” he groaned into your ear. 
“You can, inside if–“ 
“–No.” 
“No?” you asked in confusion. He pulled you off of him and laid you back on the ground, still leaning over you when the first spurt of white warm liquid came out of his cock. You were still hazed, mind foggy and muddled from your orgasm but you realised what he wanted, and smiled reassuringly “It’s okay, I can buy another one.” 
Remus groaned, letting his hand fall next to your head as he leaned in and continued to pump the rest of himself over you, over the dress. When he was finally done, he was so tired he wanted nothing more than to let himself fall over you, but he pulled back a little, still panting, but wanting to appreciate the mess he’d made. 
You smiled at him, biting your lip, as you saw his lustful expression, your dress was coated in him, his sweat, and yours causing it to cling awkwardly to some part of your skin, but he absolutly loved it. He loved that he could practically smell himself on you, mixed in between the earthy and mossy aroma of the fores,t and the smell of sex. There was some cum near your breast, some over the left side of your waist, and some just over your entrance, that was still exposed to him. You looked even better covered with his cum than he imagined you would. 
“Fucking gorgeous, wish I could take a picture,” he mumbled. 
You smiled, pulling him to crash onto you, he complied, leaning his head against your chest like he had done earlier, you started brushing your fingers over his hair, especially the back of his scalp, he almost purred into your chest when you started scratching softly. 
“You can keep one around the next time…” you whispered “but I’ll be taking some as well.” 
He chuckled at your boldness, yet again. After what seemed like too little time but must have been close to an hour of the two of you just cuddling in the grass, you both knew you had to go back. So you stood up, Remus cleaned your dress with a swipe of his wand, almost lamenting the way his cum disappeared from it, but it had been pulled and dragged regardless. He wasn’t sure you’d be able to fix it. 
“Here put this on,” He said, passing you his sweater over your arms. 
You smiled as he bent back the sleeves to fit you better. And then he passed his fingers over your hair as if he was trying to make you look less sex drunk. You bit your lip “Do I not look like I’ve been railed to the heavens by a werewolf anymore?” 
He chuckled, letting his hand linger on your cheek, “Thought I was a shep.” 
“Hmm… You are, sometimes.” He smiled at your answer, and at your teasing smile. He stared at you for a second, he realised he was so unbearably in love with you it was absolutely insane. He wondered if you liked him a similar amount, judging by your reactions earlier, you might have.  
When you leaned over to get your panties, which had been discarded somewhere over the grass, he beat you to it. You expected him to pass them over but instead, he pulled them to his face, giving them a sniff before placing them in his pocket. “Remus!” you admonished. 
He shrugged, “It’s an exchange, you keep the sweater,” he responded with a rather dismissive wave of his hand. 
“I never agreed to– bedsides, you're the one that ruined the dress!” 
“And you’re the one that ruined the knickers, your point is?” 
You scoffed, diverted at his answer and rushed towards him to try and get your underwear from his pocket but he veered off your grasp with ease, “Remus!” you said in between a snigger “You can’t expect me to go back to the castle all commando…” 
He shrugged, “It'd be easier to go for another round if you did.” 
You bit your lips in disbelief, and he wrapped his arms around yours, pulling you to start walking “Come on, hopefully, you’ll look less sex drunk by the time we’re back in the castle.” 
“Speak for yourself,” you said as you pulled his jaw in between your hands to see his face better “You’re still all flushed.” 
He shrugged “how could I not be? I have my arms around the prettiest little witch in the entire universe.” 
You were sure you were the most flushed between the two after he said those words. 
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A/N: Did this one get out of hand in the length? Maybe... Do I love the final result? I definitely, definitely do. Remus and Reader's teasing and banter is my favourite thing ever. The Five Senses was born as a way for me to practice writing smut for my brand new Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leve it in the comment below. I absolutely love reading your comments &lt;3
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tasteracha · 7 months
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kinktober — day four
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kink: body worship with changbin
warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. implied thick!reader (but can be read with any body type). mentions of body insecurity. afab!reader.
when changbin get home from work, he finds you wrapped in a big sweatshirt and a blanket, hood pulled all the way up and your entire body a shapeless lump on the couch. it’s one of those days - not especially bad, but the kind of day that left you not wanting to be perceived. if you could have become one with the couch, you would have. 
living together is new - being together in general is new. you’ve been friends for years and years, but only took the plunge into a relationship recently, falling into each other in fast forward until you were moving in with him after just a few months. him coming home to you every day just felt so natural though, and with the frequency of how often one of you stayed the night at the others it just made sense. 
“hi, beautiful,” he greets you as he flops next to you, bone-deep tiredness clear in the way he melts against your side. he makes your heart squeeze as he nuzzles his head into your chest, and it threatens to beat right out of your skin.
“‘m not,” you mumble out, unable to keep it in. you’re usually so careful about separating your insecurities from him, scared to show them to him even though you know he would be nothing but sweet to you about it.
“excuse me?” he says, sitting up so quick you’re surprised he didn’t get whiplash from it. he left you no time to regret your words as he frames your face with both of his hands and turns your head to face him. “say that again.”
“i just,” you try and look away but he nudges your head back towards his face again. “i don’t think i am. beautiful. i guess i’m not ugly but i’ve never felt like i was something special, you know?”
“no, i don’t.” he says with intense ferocity, finality on his tongue like he was begging you to try and argue with what he knew was truth. “i’ve always thought you were gorgeous, even before we were together.”
“i guess i just don’t see myself that way,” you sigh, wishing you simply hadn’t opened your mouth. 
“every single part of you is beautiful, do you understand?” he rubs his thumbs against your cheekbones before sliding his hands down past your shoulders. 
“these arms?” he squeezes your upper arms with both of his hands, using his thumb to caress the skin there. “i dream about them, the way you wrap them around me when you’re happy or excited, it’s my favorite place to be.”
“but yours are too-“
“this isn’t about me,” he cuts you off, sharply but not unkind. he moves to your breasts, caressing them more gently than he ever had before.
“these? do you even see how many people stare at you when we go out at night?” he asks, pinching a bit at your skin. “it makes me so jealous, makes me want to take you home and keep you all to myself always. no one should be able to appreciate you but me.”
his hands roam further down, slotting themselves over your hips and squeezing with his fingertips. 
“see these? they’re what i use to hold you down when you’re on top of me. how else would i be able to get you in the exact position i want you, hmm?”
your breath picks up as his fingers ghost over the swell of your lower belly, and you have to resist the urge to curl up around yourself so that he doesn’t see you. 
“this?” he leans down to pepper kisses against your burning skin, leaving invisible marks that you can feel as though they were tattoos. “this is perfection. i want to bury my face in your stomach and suffocate in it, this isn’t a flaw to be hidden. it’s not something that you need to get rid of, not something that you shouldn’t have. it’s part of you, and that means that it’s perfect.”
his words are washing over you like tidal waves, wiping out your thoughts and replacing them with his. it’s all complimented by the scorching touch of his hands on your skin, you can feel him everywhere, consuming your entire being. 
“your thighs?” he continues, kneading at the skin around your quads. “they were made to be on a goddess, do you get it? i want to sink my teeth into them and never let go. i want to cover your thighs in bite marks until you can’t see your skin anymore, so they’re all mine.”
he grabs your ass with both hands, his long fingers covering a surprising amount of surface area as they dig into your muscle. 
“and do not get me started on this ass. this belongs in museums, on display so everyone can see what perfection looks like and feel bad about themselves for not being this perfect.”
and it’s a bit silly that you start crying because of that, but you can’t contain your bubbling emotions anymore. salty tears leave your eyes and you move to cover your face, but he stops you before you can.
“i don’t love you despite these things,” he says, caressing your face with the gentlest touch, feather soft. “i love you because of them. i’m sorry that i’ve never told you like this how obsessed with you i am. i think you are the most exquisite person that has ever walked this earth. do you understand?”
“yes,” you breathe out, finally understanding. finally accepting what he was saying.
“good,” he lets a smile creep onto his face, cheeks filling out. “now, will you let me make my pretty girl feel good?” 
you nod, taking in a gulping breath as he slowly undresses you, taking time to run his hands over your skin reverently. when he takes off your panties you’re surprised by how wet you are, the cold air hitting your pussy and making you shiver. he runs a finger through your folds, collecting the slick there and spreading it to your clit. 
“this perfect pussy? how could i want anything else when this is all mine?” he circles around your clit one, two three times before sliding one finger into you, slow enough that it makes you shiver. he crooks his finger inside of you, massaging your walls languidly like he’s mapping out every single millimeter of you to memory. it’s almost more overwhelming than when he bends you over and takes you on the kitchen table, hurried and frantic, because at least then you didn’t have time to think. now, you have all the time in the world to focus on the way he feels inside you, the way his free hand is warm on your thigh where it’s squeezing, the way his own breath catches when you clench around him like he’s the one with a finger inside of him. 
“i could keep my fingers inside of you all day, that’s how much i love it.” he slips another inside and you sigh at the stretch, your muscles tensing when he finds the spot inside of you that sends sparks running through your nervous system. he smiles at you, almost wickedly, before speeding up his movements, accentuating them by pressing his thumb to your clit. almost too fast, you feel your orgasm approaching, much slower than you’ve ever felt it. you can almost see it taking over your body, a golden light starting at your fingers and toes and spreading up your limbs to your core, slow inch by slow inch. you forget to breath, gulping in air when the light finally snaps into place, squeezing your legs around his hand as you ride it out for what feels like straight minutes. 
you come back to yourself in his arms, his fingers stroking the wispy strands of hair across your forehead out of your eyes. he’s looking at you with the fondest smile you’ve ever seen, like he can’t believe that he gets to hold you in his arms like this. 
“don’t hide these things from me anymore, okay? i can’t make you feel better if i don’t know that you’re feeling bad in the first place.” 
kinktober masterlist
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netegf · 7 months
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Hate It When You Leave
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pairing: f!reader x rafe cameron
plot: you are trying to cope with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with your best friend. he's trying to cope with the fact that you don't go after the things you want... including him.
warnings: 18+, best friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, mentions of alcohol and past drug use, non-graphic references to violence, some angst & jealousy, fluff and smut (public sex, teasing, oral female receiving)
word count: 6.5 k
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There are parts about wearing your heart on your sleeve that no one ever talks about.
For instance, that it's hard to fix your face when the threads keeping that heart together feel like they're getting tugged, cut, and re-bunched into an ugly knot. 
The water bottle you're holding hardly has any life left. Even Kelce comments as much when he rounds his kitchen island, limbs swinging and loose thanks to the red Solo cup in his hand. He takes one look at the tight smile on your lips and tilts his head to the side, fingers twitching upward to your chin as he turns your head to face him. 
"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asks, voice a little slurred, but thick with concern.
That was Kelce. Polarizingly good at getting to what someone was hiding underneath. 
But appearances went a long way for him. And he was so agreeable, it made him easy to lie to. Especially when he and Topper had practically begged you to come to this party, his first one since graduating college. Everyone would be there, he'd said.
And he was right, they were. 
"Nothing, Kels, it's just my stomach being a little funny." You tell him with a renewed sense of enthusiasm. You gaze at him warmly and quirk a brow, smiling genuinely. "How do you always know?"
"We've known each other our whole lives!" He barks in a laugh. "There's nothing I don't know about you."
You feel your heart squeeze again, like there's a too-tight belt around it. But you humour him with a sweet giggle and convinced nod, and it's all Kelce needs before he's walking away to mingle with another. 
How shocked he'd be to know that there was something you were hiding. 
You keep the water bottle you're holding close to your body as if it would fall straight out of your hands otherwise. When you watch the brunette seated next to Rafe on the couch squeeze his bicep again, you think it might just fall anyway. 
Some things don't change. 
The sun goes up and down. The moon makes a nightly appearance. Kelce never dresses for the weather. Topper claims everyone else is cheating when he loses. 
You love Rafe Cameron.
"Fucking sucks, doesn't it?" A voice rings next to you.
You slowly turn your head from where you're sitting on the kitchen island to see a familiar face lounging on one of the high-chairs. 
Topper, apparently, had always had an inkling. 
"I don't know what you're talking about, Top." You grumble, casting your eyes away from the blonde protagonist of most of your dreams. Some of your nightmares, too. 
You watch as Topper rolls his eyes without so much as glancing at you, a small scoff escaping his lips. He takes a hearty sip from his cup of brown liquid. Tracking his eye-line, you're unsurprised to find that he's staring wistfully at the very same blonde's sister. 
Sarah Cameron is dancing in the corner of the room with John B., her boyfriend. 
A Pogue at a Kook party... the thought still makes you skeptical.
Not because you didn't like John B., or more accurately, like him for Sarah. But because a few short years ago, all this seemed entirely impossible.
Nonetheless, Sarah was important to all of you. 
And, like she'd said, Rafe listened to you better than he did anyone else.
When you explained to him how smitten his sister was with the boy, and considering how their relationship had endured far past those murmurings of 'young love' to, what was at this point, years together, he'd begun to understand that John B. wasn't going anywhere. 
Much to Topper's devastation. 
He promised he was over her, and he dated like it, too. But there were those moments where he had a few drinks in him and it made you think otherwise. 
"Oh, okay. My fault." Topper replies sarcastically, downing what's left in his cup and finally turning away from the couple he's burning holes through. "I thought we were being honest."
"I am being honest."
He glances at you sharply. 
"Uh huh. Hey, don't freak out, but, your nose is like, growing really long. Never seen anything like it before. It's like in that movie! What's it called, again? Puppet boy? No, that can't be right..."
"Very funny, Topper." You say dryly, but the hint of a smile on your lips sells you out and he chuckles next to you. 
"I was thinking Pinocchio." He fake recalls, nudging your elbow. 
This time, you laugh with your chest, and when you lift your head up to take it all in again, your eyes meet familiar blue ones from across Kelce's living room.
By now, you know how to mediate the warmth that blooms at the base of your spine and consumes you completely. 
There's a comfortable silence between the two of you before Topper starts speaking again. 
"You know he would do anything for you, right?" 
You chew on your bottom lip, still holding eye contact with Rafe who gives you a crooked smile. The girl next to him leans in to whisper something in his ear. He keeps looking at you. 
"Yeah, I know." You mumble half-heartedly. "I just feel like I might need to cut my losses at this point." 
Topper frowns for a moment, then stands up from his seat. 
"Well, you suit yourself." He pinches your cheek affectionately. "Because I, for one, want to crash and burn."
You snort at Topper's words and just as quickly watch him round the kitchen counter to grab another drink. 
Preoccupied with the way he extends that gesture to you, fixing some gross concoction of different sodas for you to sip on, a shiver rolls over your skin when it feels like Rafe's smouldering eyes are still lighting a fire on your face. 
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Aron Andersen is a douche, but he means well. 
At least, that's the excuse you aways placate Rafe with when Aron inevitably runs his mouth, the blonde's fists tightening nearly every time in conjunction.
Typically, you opt for the pacifist approach because blood is a bitch to clean, Rafe whines when you clean him up with saline, and frankly, Aron isn't worth it.
But tonight, he seems to enjoy testing your threshold for patience like no one else before him. 
You suppose he's not entirely to blame. Kelce makes his drinks strong, and half of Figure 8 is sucking up all the oxygen in the room.
Maybe that was why Rafe had almost swung on John B. only a few minutes prior, claiming the younger man was feeding his sister lies about him. Perhaps it was just one of those nights. 
Still, you sigh when Aron drunkenly makes his way over to your new spot in the backyard, and press your lips tight together when he shoves a beer in your direction.  
"I'm not drinking tonight, Aron." You tell him plainly. 
Aron haphazardly plops down into the lounge chair next to you with his glossy, red eyes narrowing.
He grudgingly pulls the beer back from you and takes a sip that pools around the sides of his mouth, then drains down his throat slow and loud. 
"That sucks. You're more fun when you do." He scoffs.
Your mouth falls open as the words leave his lips, head spinning to meet his annoyed gaze. The faraway look in his eyes makes you gulp.
In no particular mood to be berated, you have half a mind to scoff back and get up to leave. But there's something about the way he speaks completely unadulterated that keeps your body locked in place.
Like you're dying to know what someone really thinks of you.
"Why not?" He presses, gesturing with his finger accusingly. 
"I'm driving."
He continues to stare at you blankly.
"I'm driving." You reiterate, irritation seeping into your tone. "And drunk driving is illegal, Aron. You do know that, right?"
Unintentionally, your eyes flicker to a slightly rowdy and staggering Topper across the room. Aron zeroes in on that and rolls his eyes emphatically. 
"Now it makes sense. You're taking your boyfriends home." He pitches the word in a scornful taunt, squinting over your shoulder. "Where is Cameron, anyway?"
You feel your heartbeat rage in your chest, tongue numb and mind in disarray. 
"Don't be a dick, Aron. They're my friends." You bristle. But he seems unfazed, lazily quirking an eyebrow. 
"Please don't tell me you're that stupid, Y/N. Friends?" He laughs obnoxiously. "I get you're in love with the guy, but you run around for them like a maid. You ask me, the least you should be getting out of it is a good fuck."
Your fingers twitch at your side as you shoot up from your seat, really and truly considering that pouring his beer over his head might be the best option.
Given that Aron routinely takes up two parking spots to park his Range Rover and cheats on his girlfriends, you think it might be a long time coming. 
His words hurt for more than one reason. Of course, because he'd sooner die than recognize that you very much could maintain a healthy, platonic, and meaningful relationship with your friends of over a decade.
But also because, when it came to Rafe, he was goading you with a kind of intimacy you knew you'd never be able to access. At least not in the way you wanted. 
When a firm hand grips Aron's shoulder strongly and whips his body around, you soon realize you don't have to resort to such a physical display. 
While it was true that Rafe's face didn't make him look particularly kind, he'd only been seriously pissed off, to the point that his stomach felt like caving in on itself, a few times. Like in those months right after he'd graduated high school and felt like a big question mark. Every time his dad looked at him disapprovingly, it affirmed that sinking feeling in him, and he learned that he sometimes articulated his sadness in anger.
These days when he's mad, he mulls the feeling over a few times in the interest of scraping for another feeling underneath. 
Now, though, all Rafe feels when he meets Aron's arrogance with an intensity of his own, is unbridled rage. 
"What the fuck did you just say?"
Rafe speaks at a low register that makes your breath quicken. His movements are a little clumsy, blue eyes slightly glazed over, and his dirty blonde hair kisses his forehead that's speckled with sweat. Cheeks dusted red in that way that you love, more prominent when he's inebriated.
His fingers are still pressing harshly into Aron's shoulder, pressure concentrated and steady if the way he winces is any indication. For a second, his eyes flit over to you and the frown on your face, and they begin to soften. But then Aron is sputtering and stealing his attention and he hates him all over again for it. 
"My bad, bro." Aron offers lamely, hands jutting upward in surrender. He attempts to step away, but Rafe keeps him locked there. 
"Yeah, it's your fucking bad, bro." Rafe sneers.
He roughly shoves Aron backwards as he lets go of him and the man quickly scurries away knowing that if he sticks around, Rafe will probably force him through clenched teeth to apologize to you.
You feel your heart hammering in your chest for a different reason.
Your mind is trapped in a loop, repeating every word you said to Aron over and over again, wondering how incriminating they were, and debating how much exactly Rafe had heard.
And if he had, if he was coherent enough to either dismiss or believe the accusation that you loved him. No, not love, you shudder... in love. Aron had said, verbatim, that you were in love with him. 
"I would've handled it." You mumble with your arms crossed over your chest.
Rafe sighs as he turns his body to face you, rubbing a hand over his jaw, now partially relieved of the tension it was holding. He chews on his bottom lip cautiously, like it'll help break the fall of the words bound to spill out of his mouth, a little too unrestrained in his drunk state for his liking. 
"I know that." He nods slowly. "I just wanted to help to help you... handle it."
He stumbles a little as he moves toward you and you instinctively wrap an arm behind his torso, holding him against your body as a human splint. 
"Plus, I kinda have a reputation going for me. No one's losing their shit if I fight a guy."
"Or two." You say pointedly, thinking about his almost altercation with John B. earlier in the night. 
Rafe buries his head into your shoulder, groaning loudly into the bare skin as it heats up and vibrates. 
"Fuck, not you, too."
He lifts his head up to continue, and you lug his body towards the living room where you spot Topper talking with Kelce and some others. Without speaking, Topper seems to understand what you're saying, nodding then pointing to himself followed by the stairs. 
He'd driven you to Kelce's and you promised to stay sober and drive him back home. But now, it seemed like the plan was going to shift.
Topper would stay the night at Kelce's and take his car back in the morning. You would take Rafe's truck back to his place and walk the rest of the way. You were practically neighbours, anyway. 
"If she wants to talk shit about me to her boyfriend, that's one thing. But him, talking shit about me, to her? What's he trying to do? Turn my own sister against me?" 
"I get it, Rafe. I really do." You nod, an amused smile on your lips as you tug him out of the front door and towards his truck. "But you promised Sarah you'd be nice, remember?"
"I am being nice." He protests with his hands tapping at his chest. "I didn't even fucking touch him."
You scoff lightly as you strap Rafe in his passenger seat, noting the way his eyes begin to flutter shut. Humming softly, you poke a cold finger at his cheek and watch as they blink open again. 
"I'm taking you home, okay?" You murmur gently. 
"No!" He objects, large hand circling your wrist. He rubs his forehead with the other one, trying to remember something. "Got a meeting in the morning. Ward is gonna flip if he thinks I've been out all night fucking around."
You look at him uncertainly, waiting for the thing that you don’t want him to say, but know he will.
"Your house? Please?"
There was a time when sleepovers with Rafe were a common practice. Sometimes, after parties like this, with Kelce and Topper.
Other times when you convinced the boys to binge a new movie or TV series, usually ending with at least two of them falling asleep. Rafe made a habit of grumbling his critiques of the things he watched, but always stayed up with you. 
For a while, when he hit an especially rough patch with his dad and spent more nights than he would've liked getting high out of his mind.
As much as he'd tried not to pull anybody else into it, he found himself seeking comfort in the warmth of your bed. It helped that you always received him with open arms, even when his early morning phone calls were disorienting and he cried silently into your shirt in the hours after. 
Those nights felt so distant, and yet, like you could touch them if you reached out just far enough.
Rafe had girlfriends on and off, and sometimes that version of him felt like a stranger. You felt a strange pity for yourself when you realized that it might've been a good thing. That he was getting better and without falling back on a crutch, even if that crutch was you. Suddenly, him sleeping at your house felt weird and misplaced more than anything else. 
"I don't know, Rafe...," you begin to trail off, but the blue desperation in his eyes makes you reconsider. He's still holding tenderly at your wrist. "Fine. But if you puke on my sheets, you're done. Do you hear me?" 
Whether or not Rafe hears you is unclear, but you take the delirious smile forming on his lips as a non-verbal affirmation. He huffs out a long breath as if he can feel himself finally relaxing. His eyes start to close again, too, as you start his truck and drive the short way to your house. 
"Don't even think about falling asleep on me, Cameron. I am not lugging you up the stairs."
"You're strong." He reasons smoothly, lids still shut as he smirks. "You were about to deck the shit out of Aron Andersen when I found you."
Getting Rafe up to your bedroom goes better than you'd imagined, now with a few years of experience under your belt. 
You get him to sit down on your bed, and he fiddles with the items on your nightstand while you rummage through your armoire for an old pair of his pajamas. He complains when you throw him a pair of sweatpants and a sports t-shirt he used to wear in junior high, claiming that it'd be too tight over his arms and chest.
Plus, he'd added, it was far too hot to be wearing a shirt, anyway. 
"I love these." 
Changing into sweats of your own, you exit the bathroom to find Rafe sitting up in your bed, part of his bare torso obscured by your white sheets. His attention is fixed on a small group of rings on your bedside table, silver and gold hues reflecting under the dull rays of your lamp.
He slowly picks one up.
"Yeah, I'd hope so." You snort, tentatively slipping into bed next to him and painfully aware of the sorry excuse for space between you. "You got them all for me... kook."
Rafe cracks a sleepy smile, rolling his eyes playfully.
"You wouldn't tell me which one you wanted." He shrugs like it's the simplest thing in the world. 
He sets the ring back on the table and switches off your lamp, blanketing the room in a stroke of darkness. Rafe lies on his back and you opt to turn to your side, facing the wall.
Looking at his face only a few inches away from yours, when he's about to sleep in your bed, feels like it will be too much. 
"Asking for what you want is weird, Rafe. Nobody likes it."
You chew on your bottom lip in the dark.
"I do." He says in a scoff that turns into a yawn. "How else is anyone gonna know? People don't usually stop you and beg to find out."
You swallow roughly. That was true enough, they didn't.
But Rafe did. He always did. You revered him for it.
There's a long silence between you and all that echoes against the wood framing of your bed are the heavy and sometimes irregular sounds of your and Rafe's breathing.
Against your better judgement, you think he might've fallen asleep and almost turn around to check. 
"Is it me?" He asks quietly, voice scratchy with exhaustion. "... what you want?"
You feel your shaky breath hitch in your throat. 
"Because if it is... you don't have to ask."
His words linger in the air for as long as it takes your wildly beating hard to calm down.
By the time your body regains some feeling, the sound of Rafe's soft snores pierce the oddly crisp air clouding your room, and the choice to unpack what he said right now, or in the morning, is made for you. 
A shiver runs down from the nape of your neck to the tips of yours toes. 
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Rafe is gone by the time you wake up.
The harsh but comforting sound of rain clangs against your roof, and you stretch your limbs to the thought of a cloudy and obscure summer day. 
It's better this way, you think. The absence of Rafe's warmth next to you would feel worse if the sun was shining, teasing. 
Your fingers play underneath your comforter to locate your phone. Scrolling through your notifications, you frown seeing that none of them are from Rafe.
In his defense, it was only about 9AM now, and he'd probably just had enough time to take a quick shower, get himself the smallest bit presentable, and still barely make it to his meeting with a client.
The used bathroom towel in your hamper and flannel pajama pants hastily thrown on his side of the bed are compelling indicators. 
In his defense, he was drunk, and there was no telling if he remembered anything about last night. 
Drowsy proclamations of desire and confession, included. 
You wrestle with the idea of calling him and letting it all spill out.
Kissing him on your front lawn, in the rain, with dewy blades of grass nipping at your feet. Hands threading through his wet hair and tugging, hungrily, because you're starving and happy, and these are liberties you can afford in imagination.  
But you settle on seeing him later tonight, in person. It's your dad's charity after all. 
"I just wish you would have told me earlier." Your disappointed words hang in the air for a few moments as you play with the hem of your silky baby blue dress.
Your father had mentioned to you once before that his new business partner had a son about your age, newly graduated from UC Irvine. 
He hadn't mentioned, though, that this mystery guy would be attending the charity tonight, and he'd offered you up as his own personal tour guide.
Your father hadn't used the word date explicitly, but that's what it felt like when you were handed an odd-smelling bouquet of flowers, standing awkwardly next to the brunette who you were apparently to keep the company of all night, though he might as well have been a stranger. 
Daniel was nice enough.
He complimented your dress and your makeup, smiled and pulled out your chair before you sat down at your assigned table.
But it felt weird accepting praise and chivalry from him when your heart was busy beating erratically at the simple thought that your dress matched Rafe's eyes.  
The venue is extravagant like it always is, what with it's elaborate crystal chandeliers, ice sculptures, and floral center pieces larger than your head. 
At your table, you note your and Daniel's name cards labeling your seats. Next to them, are Topper, Kelce, and Rafe's. There's a sixth seat that has no label and you tilt your head to the side thoughtfully, considering that Topper or Kelce must be bringing a date. 
"This place is incredible. Your dad is so impressive." Daniel says in awe from the seat next to you. His eyes trail around the room, wide in amazement, reflecting back all the vibrant lights in the brown of his pupils.
You smile weakly at him, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that always seems to take flight despite your attention to detail.
"Yeah, he's really something. Likes to orchestrate a big show. You should see him at the winter ball. Live doves, and everything." 
Daniel nods, moving on to say something that starts to sound unintelligible when something else piques your interest. Someone else. Multiple someones, entering the banquet hall. 
Craning your neck, you make out Topper and Rafe. And a girl. 
No. Topper... and Rafe and a girl. She has her arm tucked around Rafe's as he escorts her in the direction of your table. He's wearing the grey tux you like, the one he wore to Rose's sister's wedding with the ornate thread detailing. His smile makes the two halves of your heart squeeze together. 
"Hey, you okay? You're squeezing that wine glass pretty tight there."
Daniel likely means well, eyeing the way your fist clenches around the stem of the glass you've yet to take a sip from. You shoot him an embarrassed smile and release your straining fingers.
An emotional support water bottle sounds like it would be really nice right now. 
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous... my dad always gives a speech at these things." You explain.
As the trio begins to approach, you realize it's Shelley Thompson gripping Rafe's arm, a sweet girl you knew from the Kook Academy.
Even now, she always waves when you run into her at the Island Club, and she has a swing on the golf course like no other.
She's a good match for Rafe. You hate to admit it, but it's true.
When Daniel speaks again, you can barely hear him.
"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about." Daniel chuckles. "I have a hard time imagining that your dad would be bad at anything..."
Topper, having heard the tail-end of your conversation, plunks himself down in the chair across from yours and rubs his forehead tiredly. You shudder at the way he smiles empathetically at you. Like there's something to be consoled about. 
"Hangover?" You ask, shoving the shaky feeling down and shooting him a teasing smirk.
He groans loudly and buries his face in his hands.
"That's the understatement of the year. Feels like I'm getting my skull bashed in." He mutters through the skin, then he peels his head away and grimaces at the screechy music being played. If there was one thing your dad was bad it, it was decent music taste. Topper laughs heartily, shaking his head. "Then again, maybe I am." 
The lightheartedness is interrupted for a moment as Rafe and Shelley pull up to the table, taking their seats accordingly. Rafe rakes his eyes over Daniel for a few seconds, but otherwise stays silent and it makes you frown. You look at him, desperately trying to uncover if he remembers any details from last night, but his expression is unreadable.
Shelley, on the other hand, grins at you enthusiastically and starts to chat with you about the time she interned at your dad's company. 
You find yourself glancing at Rafe every so often, each time catching him staring blankly ahead or at his lap, and always fidgeting with his fingers. 
"Who's this?" He asks suddenly, nodding his head at the man next to you. 
"Oh." You swallow. "This is Daniel."
Finding that insufficient, Daniel takes it as an opportunity to formally introduce himself. 
"That's me." Daniel waves sheepishly, gently squeezing your shoulder with his other hand. "Y/N's been showing me around. Well, her and her dad. I really love what Mr. Y/L/N's been doing with his company. He does some incredible work out here. It's not often that you see-,"
Topper snickers when he cuts him off. 
"Maybe he should've been your date."
Daniel laughs it off, blushing slightly and concealing it in a short cough. But you kick Topper under the table in retaliation, ignoring the way he holds his shin and groans out a soft "Ow!". 
After that, Shelley, Topper, and Daniel divulge into conversation, shifting from topic to topic and at some points, sharing boisterous laughs together.
Rafe keeps his lips pressed together and his words concise. While you fiddle with your utensils, you feel his eyes on you, igniting heat under your skin. 
He stares at you hard, like he's waiting for you to say something. Begging, even, with the way his forehead tenses and his brow stays quirked.
But you didn't know what to say.
Or maybe you didn't know how to say it. Especially not here. Especially not when he had a date. 
Rafe rolls his eyes and chews on the inside of his cheek, standing from the table abruptly, the movement making the cutlery tremble.
"Hey, I have an idea." He says while tugging on Shelley's hand. "Let's dance."
You watch as Shelley squeals with excitement, jumping from her seat to follow Rafe towards the center of the large room where the music is playing. 
"Couldn't pay me to get closer to that band." Topper mumbles offhandedly. You're sure he's trying to make it sting less, but some pains don't have a perfect antidote. 
Daniel sends you a look, silently asking if you want to join them. 
"Maybe later." You reply quietly. 
Watching Rafe wrap his arm around Shelley's waist, you feel your heart sink slowly into your stomach.
In the middle of Daniel's rambling and Topper's occasional acknowledging hums, you rise from your seat and stumble into the courtyard for some fresh air.
Surely, your heart would keep sinking if you saw any more, and your heels were too tight to fit anything else. 
The courtyard is a beautiful mix of greenery, fairy lights, and concrete statues, but it does little to ease the ache in your chest. You sit on a stone bench and try to control your breathing with your head between your knees. 
Though it's turbulent and shallow at best.
"What's wrong?"
You know it's Rafe without looking up. Sighing into the palms of your hand, you slide them down from your face and lift your head up. Surely, your makeup is smudged, and the thought makes you more miserable.
"Nothing." You say more sharply than you intended. "Nothing's wrong. Just go away, Rafe."
He looks at you completely scandalized. 
"Are you... mad at me?"
You let out a deep breathe, averting your gaze to the ground as you collect yourself. "No, I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"
Rafe scoffs, entirely unconvinced. He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. 
"Well, fuck, if this is 'not mad', then I don't want to see what mad looks like." 
"Can you just drop it? Please, Rafe? Drop it?" You beg, sniffling slightly as you stand. You hadn't noticed when your cheeks started to get wet. Likely too much in denial.
Despite the way it's honoured you in the past, crying was offering no release at this point. It's not like any of this was Rafe's fault. Even if he had gotten your hopes up last night, he wasn't obligated to act on drunken pillow talk. Maybe he hadn't meant it in the first place and was only trying to make you feel better.
"You won't talk to me." He says sadly.
You bite down on every explanation you want to give him. Chest pain heavy and unrelenting.
"Just... go back to Shelley, Rafe. She's probably waiting for you."
Rafe looks puzzled when the words fall weakly out of your mouth.
Then, he nods, like something finally clicks for him. He meets your eyes with fervor as he presses his lips together.
"So, this is about Shelley?" He asks.
Your head hangs and silence intensifies between you. It speaks for itself.
"The same Shelley that's been fucking Kelce on and off for the past two years?"
He watches your mouth fall open and eyebrows furrow, continuing as you stare at him.
"Kelce promised to take her out on a real date, but then he got caught up at work... asked me to keep Shelley company until he showed up. We didn't come here together, together, Y/N. I thought you knew that." 
Your mind buzzes as he speaks, bottom lip wedged under your teeth.
So, he wasn't here with Shelley. And he probably did remember both what he heard and said last night if he could recognize that you were jealous.
Jealous. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut. The feeling was always two-fold. A person would feel jealous, then humiliated that they had. You don't know which one is worse.
You peak an eye open, chewing through your words. "Why couldn't Topper do it?" 
"Have you met Topper?"
That was a good point. 
Still reeling from the new information, you look down at your lap pensively.
"But you did." Rafe begins after a few beats of silence. When you frown in confusion, he clarifies. "... come here with someone."
You crane your neck up to look at him. There's something you can't place in his eyes, but it's cloudy and all-consuming. His hair is a mess from the way he's been ruffling through it, and his cheeks are flushed and tight.
"What, Daniel? Are you kidding me? I only brought him because my dad ask-," you begin to explain, but Rafe cuts you off. 
"I don’t care why he thinks he can touch you. I just want him to stop.”
Despite the small gust of wind that blows past you both, you feel a warmth at the base of your neck... in the palms of your hands. Maybe it was the beams of light overhead, illuminating your bodies amidst the greenery.
Or, maybe it was just Rafe's words.
The intensity of his gaze. The way he steps towards you as he speaks them, warm hand eventually reaching out to graze over your cheek in a way that makes you gasp in a mixture of shock and excitement. 
For a moment, you think about yourself and the many soul-crushing nights spent watching Rafe talk to and touch and kiss other people, the overlapping visuals making you queasy. 
"I know the feeling." You say quietly, hot breath fanning over his face.
Rafe frowns a little, soaking up the meaning of your words. He nudges his face closer to yours, until your noses are touching and his lips just barely graze over the pair he desperately wants to taste. He draws back suddenly, suspending all the air in your lungs. 
He eyes you cautiously, challenging silently as he licks his lips.
"Not gonna do anything unless you ask." 
You nearly cry out in response. "Rafe, please. I... I want you." Ignoring the way your desperation makes your skin feel tingly and your head spin, you shut your eyes tightly, realizing that only really skimmed the surface. You try again, gulping. "I've always wanted you."
"Fuck." He breathes out, eyes fluttering shut. "Never stop saying that." 
Stifling the sound of another whine from your lips, Rafe kisses you feverishly.
He moves his soft lips in tandem with yours, swallowing each of your breathy moans. One of his hands traces over the swell of your jaw while the other stretches tenderly around your throat. "Know what I wanted to do when I saw you sitting there next to him?" 
You nearly scream in protest when Rafe pulls his lips off yours, but fall silent when he trails kisses down from your jaw to your neck and collarbones, sloppily sucking the skin then laving his tongue over the afflicted areas. Unsatisfied until your pushing his head away from the sensitivity. 
"Wanted to knock his fucking teeth out." He murmurs with his head buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving searing kisses. "But I don't do that shit anymore. So I'll ruin his night a different way."
Rafe moves your body with his until the backs of your knees hit the concrete bench. Your mouth falls open as he sits you down on it, kneeling in front of you. He presses a ticklish kiss to your knee and his bright blue eyes peer up at you through his lashes. When you nod, he parts your thighs and pulls your panties down in a single unbroken movement, committing every second to memory.
He stares longer than he should, groaning at the way your wetness collects on his finger when he traces a finger over your slit, spreading you apart. 
"Can't believe," he moans into your mound, running the flat of his tongue over your center again and again. "... you kept me from this pussy for so long." 
You throw your head back at the sensation, finding nothing but air and Rafe to support you as pulls you closer to his mouth.
"That," you say in a broken moan at the feeling of Rafe's tongue inside you. "That's your fault, remember? I was always here — shit! Waiting for you.”
Rafe hums against your pussy at that, neither agreeing or disagreeing. His nose nudges your clit as he tastes you greedily. You tug at his hair to dissipate some of the energy building inside your core, but it only makes Rafe work harder. 
"Didn't think I deserved you." He admits, pink lips mesmerizing and wet with your slick and his spit. Rafe takes your clit into his mouth and sucks obscenely, the slurping sound sending a flash of heat through you. "Doesn't matter now. I'm good at making up for lost time..."
Your thighs clamp around Rafe's head as he fucks you with his tongue. It's only now, as gasps and high-pitched sounds fall wantonly from your lips that you come to the reality that you're letting Rafe eat you out in the courtyard, and anybody from the party could come here and find you. Still, you moan less controlled than you would have hoped when he suckles at your clit again, drinking at your sopping pussy.
"Hey, have some common decency, huh? There's some very nice people in there trying to enjoy a party." 
Rafe smirks when you pull at his hair even harder, mostly at the thought that you think it could be reprimanding when he likes it so much. His teasing does more to turn you on than you'd care to admit and he can tell with the way you gush around him.
"One of em's your date." He adds, laughing slightly as he curls his tongue inside you. Entranced at the way it makes you whimper and writhe like putty under him. He starts rubbing your clit with his thumb at the same time, chasing the crest of your orgasm. "C'mon, baby. Give it to me. Come all over my tongue." 
Your release makes your back rise off of the slab of cement you're seated on, thighs slotted over Rafe's shoulders as he licks you through your climax.
The pleasure is insurmountable, your mouth falling open and your eyes screwing shut as that familiar feeling completely overwhelms your senses, the burn of your elbows against the cement keeping you anchored to the ground. 
Rafe smiles when you pull him by the belt of his dress pants to capture his mouth in a long and sweet kiss. It helps clean up the residual wetness. 
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By the time Kelce makes it your father's charity event, he sighs tiredly into the crown of Shelley's head, pressing a wet kiss there in greeting. On his way in, he got trapped in a conversation with your father and some guy he'd never seen before named Daniel who was more inclined to kiss your dad's ass than he was to breathe.
Finally taking his seat next to a very drunk Topper, he squints his eyes at the sight before him. You and Rafe, unable to keep your hands off each other, giggling at nothing in particular. And when not giggling, kissing.
"Are you seeing this shit?" Kelce asks Topper, gesturing towards his two closest friends shoving their tongues down each other's throats. Shamelessly, at that.
"Dude." Topper groans, sighing like this was no surprise to him. "Where the fuck have you been?"
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a/n: thank you for reading! comments/reblogs appreciated!!
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mercurygguk · 8 months
Text
head over skates · jjk ; part i.
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··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can't stand it.
so what happens when you're suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?
SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST
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PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader
GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au
WORDCOUNT; 1,514
RATING; 18+
WARNINGS; swearing
a/n; HEAD OVER SKATES SERIES IS HERE!!!! it’s a drabble series now so these chapters will be short but that’s better than nothing amirite :)) i hope you like this first part! enjoyyy <3 also, please lmk what you think!
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“The project will be done in pairs of two–”
Jihyo copies your smirk from across the room as you lock eyes with her. You were thinking the same thing – you and her will pair up and do this project together. As best friends and classmates since freshman year, you’ve learned that you work the best alongside each other. However, both of your smirks crumble into tiny pieces as Professor Kim finishes her sentence.
“–which have already been decided beforehand.”
You let out a quiet, frustrated groan as you slump in your seat. Jihyo pouts and shoots a glare at Professor Kim without her noticing. You watch with a bored expression as she pulls up a document showing the pairs for the project. You skim the document until your eyes land on your name, written in Times New Roman right next to–
Oh, hell no.
The universe has a sick sense of humor, is the first thought your brain is able to process as you stare at the name written next to yours. It’s the name of the one person you haven’t spoken to since senior year of high school. It’s the name of the one person you still hold a grudge against. It’s the name of your childhood best friend and high school crush – Jeon Jungkook.
When you first met Jungkook, he was just 5 years old and nothing like the man he is today.
Back then he had just moved in across the street and it didn’t take long for you to realize he was the cutest, most shy little boy – you can ask anyone who knew him back then. He was careful with everything from animals to dead objects to other people and yet he was just a pinch of wild and reckless enough to allow himself to do some of the crazy stuff kids do when growing up. He was smaller than the other boys at his age; short and skinny, a round head, framed by his thick strands of black hair. He also had big, star-filled doe eyes that could convince any adult to let him have everything his way. And having his way was something Jungkook got used to as he grew older – sometimes a bit too much perhaps.
As his best friend during all the years going from elementary school through middle school and the first years of high school, you witnessed it first hand – teachers and his friends alike were all willing to go out of their way to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. No one really knows how that came to be – perhaps it had nothing to do with Jungkook at all but everything to do with the fact that his father was the board director at one of the biggest enterprises in the country.
Jungkook has always been very oblivious, hence why he didn’t put much thought into the special treatment he received from everyone as soon as people found out just how rich his parents were. 
While in middle school, he had yet to realize how girls were starting to look at him, how they would giggle whenever he would flash his boyish smile in their direction, how they would almost trip over each other to get his attention and call his name during lunch breaks only to blush and say ‘nevermind’ when he would finally react. Jungkook had yet to realize that he was becoming hotter and less shy. He was oblivious as ever but still cute nonetheless. 
And while all this went down, you watched from the sideline, wondering when he would realize – wondering when your friendship would end. Because it would. You knew that from the moment Jungkook flirtatiously smirked and winked at your friend one day without realizing. Or maybe he did. Either way, you realized it on his behalf – he was slowly becoming a big flirt.
It’s now five years later and you were right. And as much as you like to be right, you’ve never hated it more.
Your friendship did end.
It started fading out almost as soon as Jungkook realized what he was able to achieve with his good looks and flirty nature. Now you and Jungkook attend the same college but in two different worlds most of the time. The chances of you and him ever going back to being friends like you were when you were pre-teens are minimal. And it’s not like you’re trying to befriend him again.
Cocky jocks who think they’re the shit aren’t exactly your first choice when making friends. 
And somehow during your high school junior year, Jungkook became one of them. He picked up on the term ‘working out’ and found out he had muscles and how to grow them. He also found out how to use those exact muscles to make the girls swoon, making them feed his ego way more than what is considered healthy. And as if that wasn't enough, Jungkook began practicing hockey.
And guess what? He was damn good at it.
Ego overfed.
As time went by, you and Jungkook talked less. He was busy with his new friends, playing hockey, and hanging out with girls that were way more interesting than his best friend, also known as you. Eventually you found yourself spending time with other people instead of him, finding it tiring and painful to be the second choice whenever his other friends didn’t have time or when his parents would mention you and he would 'suddenly' remember you existed. 
The sight of different girls from school entering and leaving his house without his parents knowing wasn’t that fun either if you’re being honest.
Although, you never actually told him that – but you didn’t have to because the two of you were gliding apart by each day you spent doing your own thing. It hurt but your silly crush eventually turned into anger which later turned into despisal and borderline hatred towards your former best friend. Because Jeon Jungkook was nothing more than just another jock with an overfed ego and way too many fangirls trailing behind him everywhere he goes.
Your point is deemed proven the moment Jungkook gets up from his seat in the back and makes his way to you – said fangirls all turn their scowling gazes to you the second they realize what is happening. You feel his presence before he opens his mouth to greet you, something about it making your stomach churn as he plops down in the seat next to you.
“Hey, partner,” he grins when you slowly turn to face him. “What are the odds, huh?”
You don’t spare him a glance nor a reply as you get up from your seat, leaving him behind and trying your very best to ignore the way his eyes follow your every move. Your professor seems less than excited to see you standing next to her desk as she looks up at you.
“Mrs. Kim,” you offer her your best polite smile, “is there any chance it’s possible to change partners for this project? It seems-”
Professor Kim glances back to your spot where Jungkook is sitting in the next chair, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back, hints of a smirk on his lips as he watches you and Mrs. Kim. “Miss ____, the pairs have been decided beforehand for a reason. I was hoping to save time and energy by doing this and will not be spending said saved energy on splitting up pairs just because you’re unhappy with yours.”
You feel a frustrated whine push at the back of your throat as the words leave her red-tinted lips. “But-”
“____, I know you prefer to work with Jihyo in every class you share,” she pointedly and calmly says. “But as the professor, it is my job to challenge the students and push them out of their comfort zone. If there aren’t any actual issues with having Mr. Jeon as your partner, I suggest you take on the challenge and get the best out of it.”
The fake smile she shoots at you has you frowning as you turn on your heel, defeat hanging over you in a gray cloud as you make your way back to your seat. Jungkook’s smirk has widened and he seems more than satisfied by the fact that your request got rejected by the professor. You slump in your seat once again, stealing a glance at Jihyo who got paired up with none other than Kim Namjoon – the top student of this class and her crush.
What a lucky bitch.
“Cheer up, ____,” Jungkook’s voice intrudes your thoughts, pulling you back. He’s smiling smugly when you turn to face him for the first time since he sat down. “I promise I’ll behave.”
You huff out an unimpressed scoff and turn your attention to your notes, the grip on your pen so tight your knuckles turn white. You miss the way Jungkook’s smile falters a little as you look away.
This is going to be the longest three weeks of your life – you’re sure of it.
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roseykat · 6 months
Text
TITLE: Venom Biter
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PAIRING: Minho x reader
SUMMARY: The end of a relationship between you and Minho turns as sour as it could ever get. A lovers to enemies trope.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.
TAGS: breakups, hate sex, post-breakup sex, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, manhandling, push and shove, spitting, choking, oral sex (f!reader receiving), angst, strong hints of degradation, use of degrading names such as 'slut' and 'whore'.
A/N: this was originally meant to be for one of the days I had planned for Kinktober but I was up to my neck in work and I didn't want to post something sort of half-assed so I had to hone down on most of the work for this piece.
MASTERLIST
“Broke up?” Chan’s eyes refuse to blink. “You two broke up!?”
His confused filled stare shoots for the direction of his best friend, Minho, who quietly sits opposite him across the table. He looks slightly withdrawn or…off colour. It can’t have been the gruelling two hour lecture they finished before heading out to lunch. If it were that, Minho would be complaining his head off saying how boring it was or cursing himself for not changing his minor earlier. 
He’s just not his usual self. In other social settings, he could talk until the cows came home. But the entire hour that they’ve spent together at lunch, Chan has been doing all the conversing and only receiving vague one-word answers. It wasn’t until he asked what was up with Minho that his friend dished out the news that he and his girlfriend - you, had split up.
“Why?” Chan proceeds, still swimming in shock.
A sigh leaves Minho’s mouth. He truly doesn’t feel like revisiting this subject. When he even thinks about the answer, all he can recall is the firey shouting match you both had the day things crumbled. 
“It’s messy,” he replies with a cloudy and ambiguous answer. 
“If you talk about it, then it might help you make sense of it all.”
He groans this time, “I really, really don’t want to do that. What’s done is done.” 
“Done?” Chan questions, still not letting up on an interrogation. “You were in a relationship with Y/N, for years. You guys talked about a whole future together. That’s not something you just sweep under the rug and forget about.”
If there’s one thing he almost did forget about, it’s that you were friends with him - not just Chan, but the seven others as well. After all, it was Minho who introduced you to those select people whom he calls his brothers. They would’ve found out eventually if Minho refrained from telling them who you were dating all those years ago.
Though naturally, you became very close with them. 
“We’ve both chosen to do that so there’s nothing really much left to dispute.”
Chan’s eyebrows furrow, realising he left out a crucial question to the situation, “why did you guys break up in the first place?”
Minho feels like he’s going to run out of sighs, “she doesn’t love me anymore and I don’t love her anymore. That’s literally all there is to it.” 
“You’re telling me you both fell out of love - at the same time,” Chan responds, still having a difficult time trying to comprehend his friend's situation.
“Pretty much,” Minho confirms with a nod. 
Chan finds that extremely hard to believe from his friend - the very person who would enter a different realm whenever he was in a five centimetre radius of you. His eyes would glaze over as if he were possessed; always fixated on you, he’d smile more than he usually would, and was comfortable in the space around you. 
There had to be another reason, surely. 
But it had almost been three weeks since Chan dissected the news out of Minho, and it was almost like pulling teeth trying to dive for the details. Each attempt was as fruitless as the next and in the end, Chan just plucked the same answers.
Regardless, it seemed to play out better than expected. Minho saved himself from having to dish out explanations as to why you wouldn’t be around anymore. As a result, telling Chan was the best option and since the others didn’t know, Minho was okay with him telling them so that he didn’t have to. 
In saying that, Minho left out very central details of what happened leading up to the breakup. He never mentioned the constant fighting, the lying, the false accusations, the shouting matches, up until the point where you were both swimming in the toxicity the pair of you created. 
He also absconded from the fact to Chan that not only did you both separate, but you’ve also both come to view the other differently and not through a good lens. Minho shouted it in your face the other day to which you did the same; “I hate you.” And that was that.
But his friends probably didn’t need to know all of that. 
Since that day, you’ve been in the process of trying to find an apartment for yourself which isn’t easy. You want to remain in town and not too far out so that you don’t have a long commute to work, and at the same time, you don't want to break the bank trying to find a nice place to rent in the city. All in all, it was tough, but you were ready to just leave. 
Having packed up the majority of your stuff in boxes, all you had to do was wait for landlords to contact you back about possible vacant apartments. Thankfully Minho was lenient in allowing you to stay until you found a place. 
You slept in the spare room, mainly keeping to yourself and the boxes of things surrounding the space. Occasionally you would have to lock yourself in there and throw on some noise-cancelling headphones whenever Minho brought around another woman to sleep with.
It was his house, you knew that and now that you have no ties to him and he’s letting you stay, it was never your place to question his actions. 
Still, that could never lessen the hurt. It was painful which is why you hated him so much. You don’t know how a person could move on so quickly after so many years of being told how much you’re loved. It was like he never meant it. With that being said, when you eventually managed to find a decent place, you were free from Minho. 
All of your items were ready to be moved out, taking a couple of days to actually get them to your new place. In the tiring process, you also had to factor in your work schedule which meant it would take longer to continue moving your stuff. Nonetheless, you had the majority of your boxes out of Minho's house with only a few remaining that you needed to swing by and pick up.
"Something wrong?" he wears a blank look on his face when you arrive on the doorstep to his house.
"Some of my stuff is still here, can I come in to grab it please?" You ask politely. He gives a silent answer in return by opening his door wider for you to walk in before he goes back to whatever it was he was doing.
You make your way into the spare room where the last of your things remain, but there is one odd detail you notice as you approach the items. What was supposed to be taped down lids to the boxes had in fact been opened; not in the state you had originally left it in. 
"Minho," you call out, hoping he heard you.
Sure enough, he did. Minho walks into the spare room with a puzzled expression, wondering why he's been summoned, "what?"
“Why are these open?” You ask, lifting one box off of the other to check if the rest were open as well. “Half of my stuff isn’t in here.”  
“You were coming back for those?” he replies with a question. 
“What the hell else would I be coming back here for?” 
“That's what I thought when you got here,” he says. “I thought it was for other things that you left behind, not ones in these boxes."
Your eyes never leave his face, tracking any sudden shifts in his muscles to try to figure out if he’s actually telling the truth or not. Even though you and Minho aren’t together, you're sure he wouldn't do anything malicious out of spite.
“So why is half my stuff missing?” 
Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you didn’t need any of it and that you left it here on purpose for me to deal with or throw out.” 
“So what…” you trail off, expecting his answer. Minho hesitates for a few moments, sitting on the fence about whether he should actually tell you or not. But the least he can do right now is be honest. 
“I told the…girl I bought around the other day that if she wanted anything-“ 
“No you fucking didn’t.” 
“-she could have whatever was left in the boxes,” Minho finishes the rest of his sentence which would’ve been better for you not to hear. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you for leaving them behind in the first place!” Minho argues back, trying to defend himself here even though he knows he’s in the wrong. “You were gone for a few days Y/N, I thought you just left!” 
“I never left them behind! I told you how long it was going to take my things to move!” You shout at him, tears brimming your eyes. “Now my stuff…”
The hurt genuinely sets in. Minho feels a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he sees how visibly upset you are. He knows that he’s been nothing short of a dickhead within the past month and now he’s gone and made things worse. It’s no point in him now to say that it was an honest mistake.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, truly.”
You shove him backwards into the dresser, knocking down some of the empty photo frames that were once homes for pictures of you and Minho, “you’re not sorry. You’re the fucking worst.”
Taken aback by your actions, Minho turns behind him to see the frames flat on the surface then looks back at you, “seriously Y/N, I would not have done that out of spite.”
“But it’s the fact that you still did it!” You raise your voice at him and shove him back again. “You didn’t bother calling or texting me about it when you should’ve!” 
Minho predicts your next move and catches your arms to stop you from pushing him back impossibly further into the dresser. He shoves you back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed which causes you to land on it behind you.
Before the surprise kicks in, Minho is kneeling on top of you, nearly straddling your lower half as he starts pinning your arms to the side of your head. Yet with a split second of momentum to break free, you struggle but manage to flip the tables and pin Minho on his back. 
You mount his hips before your mouth comes down to kiss Minho so aggressively that it takes him a moment to react. With any other woman that he’s slept with so far, he would allow them to be on top. But because it’s you, and supposedly hates your guts, not to mention his untapped pride, it’s not going to happen. So Minho fights back, kissing and biting nearly every part of your upper body in the process until you’re under him. 
He sucks large, deep, red hickies into the skin of your neck, in places where everyone would be able to see them. Minho would want people to know that you’re just a whore he uses. Especially for the next guy you sleep with who would go down on you and see the myriad of hickies that Minho would eventually put between your thighs when he rips your pants down. 
“Wanna play this fucking game with me,” he rasps before yanking down your off. 
Despite being a dickhead Minho will still eat you out for prep. But it’s not soft and teasing when he does go down on you. It’s tongue and finger fucking you until you’re dizzy from how hard you’re about to cum. It gives you the opportunity to pull and tug on his hair until his scalp starts burning, forcing you to be as vocal as you’ve ever been. 
His fingers curl up into that sensitive spot while his tongue and mouth work simultaneously. He’s always been good at giving head, but unusually better now that he’s relatively angry. In the back of your mind, you supposed it helped having not slept with anyone for a month, making it easier to reach that peak of delicious, eye-rolling ecstasy. 
“Fuck!” you scream out, voice projecting throughout the room as Minho sucks on your clit. “Fuck you…you’re gonna make me cum.” 
Those words are something Minho could never get tired of hearing you say. Even in the headspace that he’s in now, he wants nothing more than to hear how good he’s making your body feel. However, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation from you to know that you’re about to cum. When your walls seize and clamp around his fingers, when you’re trembling around his head, Minho knows what that means. 
The quick drag of his fingers is only light work for him, pumping at a pace that has you panting to try and keep up with it. As a result, it’s not long before Minho brings you to your sweet release; a toe-curling burst of euphoria that has you silently creaming around his fingers. 
He has no patience for you to descend from your orgasm, sucking his fingers clean as he pulls away from your pussy. He gets to unbuckling his belt faster than he can even comprehend that this is still happening. 
“H-Hurry,” you whine, trying to quell the hunger for Minho’s cock while you wait.
His eyes squeeze shut, hissing as he coats his length with your slick, “shut the fuck up.”
Despite being in a haze post-orgasm, you manage to sit up quickly to turn and push Minho down by his shoulders. You find yourself straddling his hips once more, reaching down and behind for his cock, aligning it with your hole. Minho allows you to work for it yourself, watching his cock vanish by the second as you sink down. 
“Mmm…f-fuck,,” you whine, unable to come to grips with how much you miss him filling you out. 
Taking a couple of slow strokes up and down allows you to realise that never in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine hate sex with Minho would be this…rough. Both of you pushing, shoving, and manhandling each other around, speaking to each other with such disregard for the other person's feelings – beyond the point of degradation.
“Come on,” Minho grunts, fingernails embedding themselves into your hips so that the indents remaining become as equally as vibrant as the hickies blooming on your neck. 
You look down at him with disgust before your hand lowers to his throat, choking him out by the sides of his neck. That familiar feeling of restriction to Minho forces him to repress his sick enjoyment of it, even more so when you start really riding him. 
“Fuck you,” you strain out, trying to assert some degree of control even though you’re battling with oversensitivity from your previous orgasm. 
You slam your hips down repeatedly, building up a good pace and rhythm that’s enough for small moans to force their way out of your mouth. With a cock like Minho’s, it’s impossible to keep quiet no matter how much you try. However, as you work for your own orgasm, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction by making him think that he’s the one doing it; yet in reality, he is. 
Nonetheless, you continue to use him just as much as he’s using you until the luxury of pleasure accelerates in the pit of your stomach. In saying that, it doesn’t take long for Minho to find that information out as you continue to ride him. The observation is clear-cut;
“Nobody’s fucked you since me haven’t they?” He asks you breathlessly, watching you roll your hips deliciously over his cock. “Know how I can tell? Because you keep fucking clenching around my dick.”
Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to find an answer for him because he is right and that’s not your fault, “s-so what? Want me to stop?” 
“Didn’t say that, did I?” He argues back, too proud to say ‘no’. “Just…just keep moving.”
A firm hand of yours catches his taut jaw, and while his mouth is open, you lean down and spit right in it. 
You curse right at him, “fuck you.” 
His eyes lock with yours and for a moment, Minho is shocked, but not in a bad way. In that moment you despised him so much that he made you do something a normal person would find disgusting. Although it’s not long before a sick smirk spreads across his face, failing to pretend as if he didn’t just enjoy that, swallowing it back. 
“Course you’d be into that you fucking whore,” he rasps, his body jolting every time your hips slam down. 
“I’m not the whore who’s taking it,” you snipe back at him. 
Your comment riles Minho, resulting in him nearly bucking you off his body before flipping you onto your stomach. He yanks both of your hands behind your back as something for him to latch onto when he pushes his cock back into you, and starts fucking hard and fast. 
“Yes, yes, yes, fuck…” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. 
The new angle makes his dick slip in just that extra bit deeper, achieving a sensation which you miss all too much. With the amount of relentlessness that Minho puts behind his thrusts is nothing but a fast, brutal, and unforgiving type of fucking. He’s not holding back with you, no matter how much you hate him and he hates you, he will fuck you to tears.
“Such a fucking slut,” he drives forward nastily. “Needy, loud, slut.” 
Your choked moans and whimpers are typical responses to hearing him call you that name again. In bed, if you weren’t his lover, you were his slut. Minho wouldn’t care less if the bed broke beneath him trying to fuck you like the whore you always wanted him to treat you as. But it was phenomenal.  
Now, that’s only a distant memory clawing to come back. 
“Make me cum…make me fucking cum,” you demand, acknowledging how close you are to the cliff of ecstasy.
Minho's breathing picks up from hearing the pure desperation in your voice, and so does his pace. His only release is not but a minute away, respecting that and also his motive to continue rearranging your guts. 
Yet the possibility of keeping up any longer draws to a short term. Minho’s hold on your wrists behind your back becomes a solid death grip with no chance of escape until the wet heat from your pussy has his hips jumping out of rhythm. 
His head tilts to the sky, the pleasure screaming at him from the base of his cock, “y-yes, fuck I'm cumming.”
At that very instant, Minho’s release rocks him over. His hands let go of yours in lieu of grabbing onto your ass instead. The pain and sting of his fingernails scraping deep into your flash forces strained whimpers and mewls from your throat, helping to push you over the verge of your second orgasm. 
“Y-Yes, cumming, oh fuck-” you cry out with a shaky voice, stiffening while your hole seizes rhythmically around Minho’s length. 
The pleasure is throat-gripping, making you forget the words to express how good you feel. Except, in the vapour of your orgasmic haze, you still don't want to accept the fact that it's Minho who makes you feel that way.
He pauses for a moment then thrusts hard back into you, making you keep the warm load that you were so undeservingly given, regardless if your walls are spasming and contracting it out. Then just as he was fast to try to get inside you, he's just as fast when he pulls out and flops beside you.
The air in the room becomes breathable again now that your heart rate isn't racing to the heavens, but picks back up quickly when you decide to hop off the bed and get dressed. You couldn't care less if you were sore and unbalanced. The thought of staying in the room with Minho any longer was suffocating.
“About your stuff,” he starts, filling the silent void with an exasperated voice. “I’ll try to get it back.” 
You zip your jeans up, “don’t bother. I know you did give it away for whatever reason, but for what reason is something I’m betting you’ll take to the grave with you.” 
Minho is up and now following suit by putting his clothes on. If now is the time to get one thing off of his chest, it’s now. Since the day you both separated, there has been no proper conversation. Both of you are too stubborn to admit wrongs and fix rights, but in your eyes, it's too far gone. There’s no going back to a good thing that was once more. 
"I won't if we can just talk it out," he offers the opportunity to you.
“Minho, the nights that I had to listen to you fuck someone else in the next room right after we just broke up was a clear sign that we did not need to talk it out. All it made me do is realise that you didn't actually love me."
“That’s not true,” he shakes his head as you hear a twinge of desperation in his voice like he's pleading his case. "That's not true at all."
"It is though," you correct him. "You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted to because we had broken up at that point, but not a day after that did you wait."
Minho follows through with his explanation, “I was trying to get you out of my head. Spending too long just thinking about you makes me want to lose it. It didn't mean that I never loved you before."
“So you’re just going to continue being delusional? To fuck your way through trying to forget me?” You question, nearly laughing. "I honestly think you're just being pathetic."
He shrugs, “if it means that I don’t have to feel heartbreak, then yes.”
Part of you gets it. Minho’s found a vice and is using it as a tool to deal with his pain. But you’re in pain too, and you haven’t done anything to upset him ever since you split. Maybe it is as bad for him as he says it is. Maybe he doesn’t truly know how to navigate himself out of this like you’re attempting to.
It’s almost a rebuttal to your statement about whether he truly loved you or not; if he’s using other people to drive the thought of you out of his brain because it’s too painful to deal with, then maybe you were more than just a lover to him. 
"I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I cannot stand being around you anymore because of how much it hurts to know that you're not actually with me. I'd rather try to forget your existence in order to not feel that type of heartbreak," Minho explains, his words coming from a place inside him that must've just opened up.
But he continues, "the second we split, I needed every last memory of you out of this house. But I know that this hurts you too and that this past month I’ve hurt you and that’s no justification to say that my reason is because you mean more than my entire life.”
There’s an ache in your chest that you’ve never felt before, a blend of all the emotional pain that could’ve been prevented had the two of you just talked. But that ache is fuelled by the fact that you can hear the waiver in Minho’s voice, and even though his back is still turned to you while he sits on the edge of the bed, you’re sure he’s crying.
-
A/N: Dare I say that I want to make a part 2 to this where Minho and reader try to rekindle, things are pretty tender but they sort of want to make it work...
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missmonsters2 · 9 months
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Mirror, Mirror | One
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Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: The thought of something more had never really crossed Wanda's mind when it came to you. Best friends for 10 years and there hasn't even been one instance of accidental sexual tension. You're her best friend, that's all—until someone points out that you obviously have a very specific type when it comes to dating.
Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.
*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*
Note: i'm back!!! Nothing like coming back and posting a mini series. Enjoy this superior trope. Updates will be on Tuesdays! As you can see, we're trying something new with explicit content lol 😬
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Count: ~4.1k
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It's strange how sometimes a single sentence can change someone's entire life. 
Wanda's thought about what sentences could change her life—usually, they're morbid and depressing.
'You have cancer.'
'Someone you love has died horrifically in an accident.'
'Your cat actually finds living with you miserable and would prefer the dangers of living in the streets.'
Never in a million years would Wanda ever think it'd be, 'Hey, have you ever noticed how your best friend exclusively only dates girls who look like you?'
And don't get Wanda wrong. It wasn't a morbid or depressing change; it was just...a change. An irrevocable change because now, Wanda couldn't stop thinking about it or noticing it. 
This was all Steve's fault. 
Because if someone like Stupid Steve could notice something like that, it had to mean something, right? But as Wanda remembers about the past girls you've hooked up with and brought around, she doesn't know what to make of it.
A part of Wanda wishes she had never talked to Steve that night at the bar. 
"Where's Vis?" Steve asked, looking around.
"With Tony playing pool, I think," Wanda shrugged. She doesn't particularly keep track of where her on-and-off boyfriend goes. She thinks they might be on an off-period right now, anyway. 
"And where's—oh, nevermind, there she is," Steve started to say but cut off when they both saw you across the bar talking with the bartender, flirting over drinks—which were probably free if Wanda could guess. 
Wanda's slightly annoyed because it's been a long week without seeing you, and Wanda's been used to seeing you almost every day for the past several years of her life. But you've been gone on a work trip this week for a wedding shoot and only came home just a little after lunch and needed an immediate long nap before tonight's get-together. 
That meant Wanda was sorely missing out on best-friend time, and now you were off flirting shamelessly with the hot bartender. Wanda's rooting for you, make no mistake. The bartender is definitely easy on the eyes, luscious hair, and lips—something Wanda knows you're weak for. 
Plus, Wanda's worried you're not anywhere near getting close to settling down. She wants you to be in a happy, fulfilling relationship. But she supposes she's in no position to talk herself. 
Wanda loves Vision without a doubt, but their relationship is definitely chaotic, and Vision keeps pushing for something more serious now that they've been dating (sporadically) for a long time. She's been considering it in her downtime and thinks it might make sense as the next step.
Best friends do everything together, right? So, maybe if Wanda decided to take the next step in a serious relationship, you'd find someone to commit to seriously as well. 
Then, both of you could get married at the same time. Then, they could buy a house in the same neighborhood right next to each other. There'd be endless double dates and vacations together. Wanda wouldn't have to miss you.
But first, Wanda needed to regain lost best-friend time, one-on-one style.  
"Hey, you know what I just noticed?" Steve said, breaking Wanda's drifting thoughts. 
"What?"
"Bug—" 
Wanda makes a face at your nickname. Granted, it was Wanda's fault you ended up with it back in your first year of university. You never let her forget it, especially now that you're a professional photographer.
"—over there has a very specific type she goes after for girls," Steve mused, sipping his whiskey before continuing. "I mean, they always have green eyes and brunette—wait, that's not true. She had two red-headed girlfriends in our last year of university. They still had green eyes, though." 
"Oh," Wanda said, unsure what to say since she's never paid attention to the girls you were dating. On average, they were a brief fling, and only a few lasted longer than half a year. "I guess so?"
Wanda distantly thinks about how she dyed her hair auburn in her last year of university because she was looking for a change that year and Natasha was insistent that she'd look amazing. Wanda recalls you were a fan of the look.
"Yeah," Steve nodded along. "Ironically, they always look like you in some way. Check out that bartender now—long, wavy-haired brunette with green eyes. She's got thick, long lips and even does that dark eye-shadow makeup thingy like you."
Steve just laughed it off, finishing his drink, thinking nothing more of it before he started talking about Bucky.
But it was like something clicked into place in Wanda's brain. A daunting realization that she was wholly unprepared for and not equipped to do anything about. 
Wanda watched as the bartender clocked off for the night and dragged you into a corner booth, drinks in hand. It gave Wanda the perfect view that the bartender wore many rings just like she did. 
In the poor privacy of the dimly lit corner booth, there was a staunch and needy kiss from the two of you, and Wanda swallowed roughly. 
From here, if you were none the wiser, Wanda could be easily mistaken for the girl in the booth with you. 
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Sometimes, Wanda believes she's just being absolutely ridiculous. So what if you go after girls who share the same features as her? That didn't have to mean anything. You've always told Wanda she was beautiful, and it was perfect how you said it. 
It didn't feel insincere or creepy. It felt good to know her best friend thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But just because you thought she was beautiful doesn't mean you harbored secret feelings for her. 
You'd be insulted if you knew Wanda had ever thought that. She'd just be another one of those girls Wanda's seen you humble on multiple occasions when they found out you dated women, and they were worried you might have a crush on them. 
But then, Wanda couldn't stop thinking she actually might be one of those girls because then she'd think about if you didn't consider her like that, it wasn't about her looks but something about her personality that wasn't your type. 
And what could that be?
Wanda thought long and hard, trying to remember the girls you've introduced her to. 
Sometimes they were funny, and Wanda was funny. She made you laugh all the time. She specifically remembered one time in high school when she made you laugh so hard you peed your pants just a little. 
Sometimes they were intellectual, and while Wanda didn't have an IQ of 160, she did fairly well academically and was on the right track in her career. 
Sometimes they were charming, and Wanda was the type where she got more charming the more you got to know her. 
So, Wanda just doesn't understand. She's nowhere further with her thinking ever since this weird information has been bestowed upon her.
Maybe it all just means nothing. You just didn't feel that way about Wanda despite the type of girls you dated suggesting otherwise. You didn't need a reason for it, and maybe the fact you only felt friendship for her was the reason. 
"Wanna order pizza in tonight?"
Wanda turns her head from the tv and notices you've put your book down. "Hm, not really. We had pizza last week," Wanda shakes her head. 
"How about that Greek place that just opened up on Willington Ave?" You suggest. "Pretty sure I heard you grumbling about wanting Greek food earlier this week."
"I was not grumbling!" Wanda scoffs but smiles when you raise your eyebrow at her. "Okay, I was grumbling a little."
You snicker as you pull out your phone to order delivery. "Oh, sweet golden best friend of mine, whatever shall you do when you get married to Vis, who hates Greek food. Do I foresee a life of Greekless cuisine? Oh, the suffering you'll go through!"
"I don't need him to like it," Wanda slaps your arm, sticking her tongue out before she cuddles you. "I have you to eat it with."
You laugh unabashedly, a sound that Wanda's accustomed to hearing the joyful sound. "Better hope the person I marry also hates Greek cuisine. I don't know if I can live a life of eating double the Greek food. I love tzatziki sauce, but if I grow to hate it from eating it too much, I will make you suffer the consequences of that."
Your voice trails off as you focus on ordering food, unable to see the cogs in Wanda's head turning. 
It's all so easy. There's no tension, no electric vibes happening. Just best friends enjoying the banter and making plans to eat. 
It was all in Wanda's head, right? You're her best friend, so of course you'd know everything about her. 
The right type of friendship is fulfilling and soul-connecting, and that's what Wanda has with you. When you have a one-in-a-million connection like that, the line between friendship and romance is thin, isn't it?
Wanda hates Steve. She'd never think about this if it wasn't for Stupid Steve. She can hear his dumb laugh, blissfully ignorant about the observation bomb he dropped upon her. 
"Do you wanna get ice cream after?" You ask, throwing your phone to the side. "I'll even treat you to the gelato despite knowing I'm going to suffer through your crazy farts later."
"Oh my god, I'm going to trap you under the blanket with it just for that!" 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
Within two months, Wanda forgets about it. Forgets, as in that she decides to drop it (let it linger in the deep depths of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge), and resolves that Steve has no brain cells and has no idea what he's saying. 
"Have you seen my strapless black top?" Wanda shouts from her room with the door open. "The one with the v-shaped front!"
"In your closet!" You yelled back from the living room, not taking your eyes off your phone. 
"I can't find it," Wanda whines, and she hears you sigh as you get up. The footsteps approach her room, and she finds you standing at the door with an unimpressed look.
"I don't want to hear it," Wanda sniffs. 
"Hear what, brat?" You say with a brow raised before you start rummaging through her closet. The nickname was a joke you started that Wanda was entirely a spoiled person, exhibiting bratty behavior at times. "That I'm not gonna be your roommate forever, so you need to learn to fold it yourself before putting it away?"
Wanda makes grumbling noises that are mostly nonsensical but smiles when you pull out the top she was looking for. 
"You are the apple of my eye, stinky," Wanda grabs the top from you before she runs into her washroom to briefly change into it. 
"A match made in heaven, yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes with good humor. "Hurry up, Natasha will kill us if we're late for Yelena's birthday. They're on an upwards mend in their relationship, so she's been so unbearably uptight lately to make sure nothing goes wrong."
"I know, I know," Wanda mutters, carefully pulling the top over her head to not ruin her makeup. 
"Alright, I'll hail us a cab, meet me outside."
"Wait, wait!" Wanda calls out. "I need help putting on my necklace."
You chuckle, walking back just as Wanda steps out of the bathroom with the delicate necklace she wants to wear. 
"Alright, alright, relax," you tell her. "Your accent gets really strong when you're stressed."
"You're stressing me out by rushing me," Wanda scrunches her nose even though you can't see it. "I'm also stressed knowing that you have to rush me, or I'll spend the party getting lectured by Natasha."
Wanda's voice comes out husked with the accent, something she's struggled between hating or loving, but mostly loving since you've expressed how lovely it is.
You grab the necklace from her hand, and Wanda moves her hair out of the way. The routine of it all starts to bleed the tension out of her shoulders. 
Then, that horrible Stupid Steve Sentence kicks into her brain. 
 It's only as you put your arms over, placing the necklace against Wanda's chest, and focusing on trying to get the clasp in. Wanda can feel your warm breath against her neck, summoning goosebumps along her arms. You're so close, and she can feel the heat of your body radiating onto her, your fingers just barely brushing against her.
The tension comes suddenly, squeezing inside her chest as her breathing slows and shakes. Her body warms in an unexpected way. 
"Ah, got it," you say, but Wanda can only focus on your voice and breath on the shell of her ear. "Cute necklace but the clasp is so annoying."
You pull away and start walking off. "C'mon, I bet if we tip our taxi driver an extra $20 bucks, they'll speed and we can pray we're on time."
Wanda's left standing there, knowing she probably sounds like she's fresh out of Sokovia with how stressed she is. Her right eye twitches.
Was that...Wanda gulps. Was that sexual tension?
And was she the only one who felt it?
Fuck.
She's going to kill Steve.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
Natasha's absolutely neurotic when they arrive. It's just a simple backyard party, but it almost looks like a wedding venue with all the catering and flowers. 
Wanda's pretty sure Natasha's only being like this because she's overthinking about whether to cling to Yelena or give her sister some space to mingle with others. She seems to be sizing up Kate, who Yelena might be seeing, but it hasn't been confirmed. 
Yelena looks between exasperated with Natasha and secretly happy about the entire thing. Wanda can sympathize with her. After all, she's also a little sister, and Pietro can also be way too overprotective. Sometimes she's glad he's abroad in Europe for work while she remains in New York, but she misses him more often than she admits. 
"Alright, alright, Natasha," you groan, and Wanda's mind slips back into the conversation. "We're 3 minutes late, relax, will you? Damn, are you always gonna be like this until you and Yelena get back into whatever sibling bond you had before? Hope you're just like this with us because otherwise, you're gonna scare away all her friends, and she's going to hate you."
"Oh my god, do you think she'll really hate me?" Natasha bites her bottom lip in worry while looking around at all the people that they can only assume she's nagged about being late or whatever mishap. 
"Oh, man," you sigh, putting your hand on her shoulders before pushing her towards the bar. "You need some drinks and maybe some desserts in you."
Wanda's about to follow you when you turn around and nod your head in a different direction. She looks over and sees you're nodding toward Vision.
"You should go say hi to him," you tell her. "You've been complaining about not seeing him all last week, even though I don't know why you guys won't just FaceTime, but I digress. Come find me later, or I'll find you after."
You look over at Natasha, who's peering on her tippy toes to see if she can find Yelena.
"And, hopefully, I'll have ditched this nutjob," you whisper conspiratorially and laugh when Natasha turns around to smack your arm. 
"I heard that!"
Wanda chuckles as you walk off with Natasha while she turns and heads toward Vision. Despite how she was complaining about not seeing Vision last week because she did miss him, her expression was sour as she made her way toward him. 
Vision spots her immediately and waves at her with a warm smile. Wanda feels herself somewhat loosened at his expression. They'd also been friends a long time before they started on-and-off dating, so at the very least, she does miss his easy friendship. 
"Hey," Vision hugs her, slightly rubbing her back before he pulls away but keeps his arm around her. "It's been a while; you look lovely."
"Thanks," Wanda smiles with a shrug. She looks around and sees he's standing with Tony and Pepper. "How are you guys?"
"Could be better," Tony sighs dramatically. "Natasha won't let me do any of my cool party tricks as if I'm going to ruin her little sister's party. If anything, I could make it the party of the century!"
Pepper rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We were just talking about how we're thinking of going to the Bahamas for vacation in December and escaping the cold. We've invited you and Vision along since it's been awhile since we've all gone together. Of course, we can also invite Bug and Natasha."
"Oh," Wanda says for a lack of anything else to say. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but she peers over at Vision, who's just smiling at her and looking eager about it. 
"I need another drink if I'm going to suffer through this party," Tony sighs. "Maybe I can convince Yelena instead!" He grins, dragging Pepper along, and they walk off together. 
"So, what do you think?" Vision asks when they're alone. "I didn't want to reply on your behalf since I wasn't sure, but I think it'd be good for us. I've missed you," Vision pauses as if he's about his next words but then says, "a lot."
"Yeah, me too," Wanda starts to say, but then her brain gets all haywire because it feels like a lie. She did miss him, but did she miss him a lot? "I think."
"You think?"
Wanda wants to smack her forehead because she didn't mean to say that out loud. "I mean, I was complaining a lot that I haven't seen you in a while all last week."
"Yeah, work has just been overwhelming. I get so tired after work, I just can't keep up with the texting or calls."
But you can, Wanda thinks. Granted, you're her roommate, so it's easier. But even when you have to go on work trips, you regularly text her no matter what time and squeeze in a quick call, even if it's just to say goodnight. 
The entire thing makes Wanda bite her tongue because why was she even thinking about that? That was completely irrelevant to Vision. 
Then—because as if just thinking about you wasn't enough—her eyes trail across the room, and the scene before her makes Wanda even more confused about her feelings.
You're standing there with Natasha at the bar, but it looks like Natasha's calling someone over to introduce you to them.
Another brunette with long, wavy hair, like she just had a blowout done. Wanda's not 100% sure from this distance, but she has an inkling that the brunette also has green eyes. She's wearing a white halter top and wide-legged sage green pants. She wears a lot of rings, but her makeup is lighter and more summery compared to Wanda's darker, smokey eye makeup.
In short, this woman was the clean girl aesthetic version of Wanda. 
And you look interested. 
This was ridiculous, Wanda fumes, feeling her stomach sink and cheeks flare hot in anger. As quick as the anger came, it dissipated.
Why was she so angry?
She feels betrayed, and her thoughts are turning very ugly. Wanda is definitely not being a girl's girl right now with how much she's thinking she's better than the girl in front of you. 
But that just makes everything so much more confusing. 
"Wanda?"
Wanda turns her head back to Vision. He looks concerned, and even when his eyes trail toward what Wanda's staring at, there's no additional reaction. He's not upset that she's staring at you, and that has to mean something, right?
It must mean there was never a concern about how Wanda might've felt about you. Sure, there were a few things Wanda couldn't be without, and you were one of them, but nobody can't be without their best friend. 
No one had ever blinked twice about you and Wanda.
Except now.
And that person was Wanda herself. 
The more Wanda thought about the entire thing, the more she became curious. The idea of you dating people who looked like Wanda was intriguing. She wanted to ask questions but didn't know what to ask.
It might mean nothing, but it also might mean something. 
And if it does mean something, Wanda wants to know what exactly it is. 
Therefore, Wanda needs nothing in her way to find out the truth and exactly what she wants, regardless of the answer. 
This was insane, wasn't it? Wanda's always been ambivalent about dating women. She's never gone out of her way to try it since she had Vision. Never mind entertaining thoughts about dating her best (girl)friend. And now, she was giving everything up in the pursuit of finding out what it could mean that her best friend was dating her lookalikes—and why she cared.
Wanda doesn't even know what she'll want to do with that information. 
Wanda looks at Vision, peering at his features she's always found handsome. When she thinks back, she's not even sure why she complained to you about how she hasn't seen or heard from him lately. She hadn't even gone out of her own way to do something about it.
"I'm not going on the trip. I don't think I actually missed you like that."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
The girl introduced to you was named Raye, Natasha's coworker that recently moved from Nashville. It was also confirmed she has green eyes, though they had specks of brown in them. She was a southern belle with a bold attitude, witty, and a wicked sense of humor. All in all, undeniably charismatic. 
At least, that's what you told her in private because all Wanda could feel was unrestricted aggravation with the other girl. The southern twang made Wanda's eye twitch, mostly because she knew you were head over heels for accents.  
"And then before I knew it, I was panicked and more lost than a blindfolded turkey on thanksgiving!"
You burst out laughing while Wanda's expression is stony, but when you look at Wanda, she forces a smile on her lips.
"Hahaha," Wanda dryly let out. "So funny."
But it wasn't. What the fuck did that even mean?
Raye continues to talk while you listen with rapt interest, and Wanda takes the time to observe your features in a way she's done many times before but with a different mindset. 
Your lips are curved in a smile, glistening from your chapstick. They're shapely, and they look soft. It rivals her favorite feature of yours, which is your eyes. They've always been so expressive with her, and Wanda's been around long enough that she knows what every expression means. She can tell when they glint with mischievousness or are soft with immense compassion and empathy. 
"So, what did you think of Raye?" You ask Wanda as you leave the party.
"She's cool, I guess," Wanda answers nonchalantly. 
The rest of the party was excruciating between Raye constantly hanging around you and Wanda also being too nervous to be alone with you. 
"Really cool," you sigh with a grin. "Glad I got her number. It's been a while since I've met someone so funny."
Was she funny, though? Wanda wonders.
"Funnier than me?" Wanda finds herself asking.
"No one could be funnier than you, brat," you smirk. "I almost peed myself laughing again when you almost knocked off Yelena's cake. I thought Natasha was about to enter into a coma." You snicker while Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile. 
"Glad I can always give you the biggest laughs, stinky."
Wanda glances over at your face, recognizing the excitement by the brightness in them. It's just another reminder that, as your best friend, she knows you like the back of her hand. 
But lately, when Wanda watches you pick up girls, she can tell when they're heady with desire. That look hasn't been directed at her, and Wanda wants to know what it'd be like if it were.
Wanda recalls the night you kissed the bartender and imagines if it had been her instead. She pictures your hand sliding across her jaw and cheek while your other pulls her closer at the waist. 
It's horrifying when a slow pit of arousal builds in Wanda's gut and...other regions. It feels utterly frightening and wrong like she's betraying the friendship for having and then reacting to such thoughts about you. 
But there's another part—the part that tells Wanda there's nobody in this world that she loves more than you. The mere idea of ever being apart from you was unfathomable. Wanda could and has endured so many things, and it would always be okay as long as she had you. 
So, knowing that Southern Belle Raye has the potential to be more than a one-night stand to you, Wanda realizes that she has a very small window to not only come to terms with her newfound feelings but also act on them as well. 
If this didn't go well, Wanda would definitely murder Steve.
PART TWO
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solar-wing · 1 month
Text
⚣ Jealousy Is A Disease 🟢
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⚣🟢 A/N → DON'T ASK ME WHY, I DON'T KNOW OKAY! I just can't write a Hal Jordan fic without making it about his incessant need to be better than Superman. I'M TRYING OKAY! anyway, hope you like it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Major Dub-Con Themes | M-Preg Themes | Penetrative Sex | Fingering | Overstimulation | Alpha Hal Jordan | JL Omega Male Reader |
⚣🟢 Summary → Y/N's knows he's got a little heat brewing between him and Superman, but something is going to get in the way of that. He should've known better than to have entered into any sort of arrangement with Hal Jordan. Not only was the man super cocky and sarcastic, but he was literally green with envy.
⚣🟢 Words → 3.7K
REBLOGS & replies are appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🟢
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The Watchtower had been relatively quiet.
Y/N had been talking with Clark about some matters related to supervillains' plots, potential recruits, and a bunch of other mumbo jumbo that he wasn't really paying attention to because he was too busy eyeing the Kryptonian's body. The Omega knew his heat was getting close and that he would probably have to take some time off soon to deal with it.
But, it didn't stop him from imagining Clark's large and muscled body over his while they rutted against each other all sweaty and hot and-
"Y/N? You ok there?" Clark's voice interrupted his thoughts, the Omega blushing when he saw the look on the man's face. He had noticed his staring and it had probably led him to realize the nature of his thoughts.
The Kryptonian had a knowing smirk on his face, though. He'd been more or less aware of the Omega's attraction towards him, and it definitely wasn't one-sided. Clark may not have been an Alpha by nature of his Kryptonian biology, but it didn't mean he didn't consider himself to be one in many aspects. He certainly had the physique of one, and he did have a few...kinks that came with the territory.
"I-I'm sorry, I got a little distracted." Y/N chuckled nervously, feeling his cheeks heating up. He didn't know how the Kryptonian would react to his blatant display of lust, but he didn't think it would be bad. Clark was always so nice to him and he had a good sense of humor. Plus, the Omega really wanted to know what was under those suits.
"Don't worry about it. You know I get distracted too sometimes." The Kryptonian smiled, his eyes lingering on Y/N's flushed face before traveling down the length of his body. The Omega suit was one for the books, the tight-fitting material leaving nothing to the imagination. Y/N looked damn good, and he knew it.
"So, uh, what were we talking about again?" Y/N asked, clearing his throat.
While the two continued their little flirtatious and flustered dialogue, neither of them was aware of the presence watching them through the door, his eyes under his green mask narrowing in anger and jealousy.
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Later that night, Y/N was getting ready to head home. His heat was coming closer and closer, and he knew he had to spend his next few days in his apartment and away from everyone.
As the Omega neared the Zeta Gateway that would take him back to the Hall of Justice, his arm was suddenly snatched and he was pulled into an empty room. Y/N was ready to fight whoever it was, but a familiar scent invaded his senses.
"Hey there, sexy. Missed me?" Green Lantern smirked as he looked down at the Omega's shocked face.
"Hal! What the hell are you doing?" Y/N whispered. "Someone might see us!"
"I was just thinking that maybe we could have a little fun before you go home. It's not like anyone's gonna come here at this hour." Hal said as he moved closer to Y/N, backing him toward the wall.
"I have to go. My heat's coming up." The Omega said, stopping him before he could make any more moves.
"You always say that. And then we end up fucking anyway."
"Not this time. I need to rest. It's going to be a very intense one." Y/N tried to reason, but the Alpha wasn't having it.
"C'mon, baby. Just one more time." Hal whispered in his ear, his breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "Let me have a taste."
The Alpha leaned forward and began kissing and biting Y/N's neck, his hands moving to grip his waist. The Omega could feel his arousal getting excited at the stimulation, but he had to stay strong. He knew his body would crave an Alpha's touch during his heat, and there was a certain blue and red-wearing superhero that he was more interested in.
"H-Hal, no! Stop!" Y/N said, pushing him away. "No more of this. I'm not gonna let you fuck me anymore, understand?"
"What the hell's gotten into you?" The Alpha growled. "You're always begging for it, and now you're pushing me away?"
"Yeah, well, things change." Y/N sighed, moving to leave the room. "Just stay away from me."
"Who is it, huh?" Hal asked, blocking his way.
"It's not like that," Y/N said, knowing full well he was lying through his teeth, "It's just that I think we should keep things strictly professional from now on."
"Bullshit. You weren't concerned about keeping things professional all the times I fingered you during meetings. Or all the times you sucked me off in the training room."
"Hal, I–"
"Did you care about professionalism when I fucked your tight little cunt while Batman was right outside that door? Or when you rode my dick in the showers? Huh?" Hal said, his voice raising a bit.
"Quit it, Hal. You're being rid–"
"Or all the close calls we had when I knotted you without a condom, and you thought you were gonna get pregnant? I bet you were hoping for it, weren't you?"
"Shut the fuck up!" Y/N shouted, his patience running thin. "I don't have time for your bullshit, Jordan. Now, move."
"Oh, now you're giving me orders? Is that how it is?" Hal growled, his own Alpha pheromones responding.
"Will you please shut the fuck up?!" Y/N growled, his scent turning sour. He couldn't believe the nerve of this man!
"No, you shut the fuck up! You're acting like a whore who's too good for me." Hal growled, his scent becoming heavier with the stench of anger.
"A whore, huh? I'm a whore for letting you fuck me whenever you wanted, and now I'm a whore for wanting to stop the fuck-fest, is that it? You're the one who wanted this, remember? You're the one who was all up on me in the first place, so don't play the victim."
"You're such a fucking tease. You act like a slut and then you expect me to leave you alone?"
"Yeah, and I'm also an Omega who could easily have an Alpha whenever I want. Don't forget that."
Hal clearly didn't like the mention of that. He was an Alpha, Air Force pilot and a Green Lantern. He wasn't supposed to be a side dish.
"I'm not someone you can fuck whenever you're bored, Y/N." The Alpha growled, his scent spiking.
"Well, guess what, Jordan, I'm not your toy either. We both had our fun, but I'm done with this. I don't want you anymore, and I certainly don't need you. So, move."
Before Y/N could move an inch, Hal lunged at him, tackling him to the conference table in the middle of the room. The two of them started wrestling and fighting, the Omega's pheromones spiking as he did his best to keep his body in check while trying to get the upper hand.
The fight didn't last long, though.
Y/N was soon pinned underneath the Alpha, his wrists in a tight grip above his head. Hal's free hand was holding his chin, forcing him to look at him.
"I can't believe you'd say something like that to me. After everything we've been through." The Alpha said, his voice low.
"Let go of me." Y/N struggled, trying to get out of the Alpha's hold.
"Not until you admit that you want me. That you're mine."
"In your dreams, Jordan. I don't belong to you. I'm not some prize that you can claim."
"I can do whatever I want. I'm an Alpha and I'm Green Lantern," Hal smirked, his grip on Y/N's wrists tightening as he rubbed the hard-on throbbing under his suit against the weaker male, "And you're an Omega. My Omega. You're gonna submit."
"You're not my Alpha, and you may be Green Lantern, but you'll never be Superman," Y/N said, ignoring the pleasurable tingles running through his body from the Alpha grinding against him while sporting his spiteful little smirk at the Alpha, "You'll never be him."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hal questioned with a growl.
"I know you're jealous of him, Hal. You put on this cocky, self-assured facade, but deep down, you hate that Superman is everything you wish you could be. He's not even technically an Alpha and yet, everyone respects him. Everyone trusts him. He's the perfect hero, and you're not."
"You're wrong."
Y/N could see he was hitting some nerves, and despite the warnings in his head telling him to stop, he couldn't, "Am I? So why is it that every time he's near me, you're always watching me? Always trying to get my attention. You're always trying to assert your dominance as if that's going to make me want you more."
"Stop talking," Hal ordered, not even realizing how he was slowly grinding his hard erection against the Omega's slick dripping heat, the friction from their uniforms making it all the more pleasurable.
"You're always going on and on about how you're an Alpha and Superman's not, and yet, he's the first person who comes to mind when anyone thinks of a traditional or a perfect Alpha."
"That's enough."
"And what does that say about you, Hal?"
"Shut the fuck up!" The Alpha roared, his scent becoming suffocating as he tightened his hold on Y/N's wrists, his hips rutting faster and harder against the Omega's crotch.
"You're a disgrace to the Green Lantern Corps, Hal. And you're a disgrace to the Air Force." Y/N continued, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and lust as he stared at the Alpha above him.
"That's not true," Hal said, his voice faltering slightly.
"Is it? Because the way I see it, you're nothing more than a second-rate Green Lantern, a third-rate Alpha, and a fifth-rate superhero," The Omega ended, a venom to his words as he tauntingly smiled at the Alpha rutting against his body, his scent sweetening as his orgasm arrived already due to the increasingly sensitive state of his body from his heat approaching.
"SHUT UP!"
Hal lost control, his instincts taking over as he ripped the fabric of Y/N's suit. He couldn't stand the disrespect and the insults, and he needed to make the Omega eat his words. He needed to show he was better than the Kryptonian. He had to himself as the stronger Alpha, as the only Alpha.
He needed to prove that he was the best.
Y/N's moans were music to his ears, his slick coating his fingers as he pushed two digits inside the smaller male's tight cunt, the Alpha growling in arousal as the warmth wrapped around him. The Omega had to grip the edges of the table that he could reach to keep himself steady as his body rocked with overwhelming stimulation from Hal's fingers entering him so roughly while he was still in the middle of his first orgasm.
"A-ah, fuck ... ! H-Hal, stop.." Y/N moaned, his legs shaking as his walls fluttered around the Alpha's fingers.
His hand was around the Omega's throat, squeezing tightly as he forced him to look at him, "Don't you ever say those things to me again. Do you hear me? I'm not a failure. I'm not a failure."
"You are...a failure." Y/N choked out, his eyes watering.
At this point, the Omega had slowly given into his body's most primal desires, his mindset slowly slipping into that of a sex-crazed, needy little shit who just wanted to get fucked and knotted, thanks to his heat.
The Alpha snarled at the insult, his fingers thrusting deeper and harder. His thumb rubbed circles around the Omega's nub, the bundle of nerves sending jolts of pleasure up the smaller male's body. His focus had become solely on proving himself. He needed to show the Omega who was in charge.
"Stop saying that! Stop it! You're lying!" Hal growled, his pace quickening.
"Y-you're a f-failure. You'll...never be Superman," Y/N panted, his mind growing clouded. "You'll never b-be my A-Alpha."
"I'll be your Alpha. I'll be better than him. Better than any of them."
Within just another few minutes, The Alpha pulled another mind-shattering orgasm from the Omega, his scent heavy and intoxicating. He pulled out his fingers, licking his lips as he watched the mixed slick and cum dripping from them. He moved his hand up to the Omega's mouth, smearing the wetness across his lips.
"Suck them."
"No..." Y/N whimpered, his eyes fluttering closed.
"Do it. Now." Hal demanded, his grip on the Omega's neck tightening.
The squeeze against the smaller male's neck had his mouth opening with a quiet yelp in reflex, allowing the Alpha's fingers to enter. The taste was sweet and salty, and the Alpha couldn't help but growl in arousal as he watched the Omega suck his digits clean.
"That's it, baby. Get them nice and clean. You like the taste of your body, don't you?"
Once the Alpha had pulled his fingers out, the Omega's eyes were glazed over. His scent was so strong and thick, and it was almost enough to make the Alpha's knees weak. He wasn't done yet, though. He still needed to show no one was better than him.
Especially not Superman.
Hal ripped the front of his Green Lantern uniform open (it was okay, it magically came on and off anyway), exposing his toned chest and abs. His cock sprung free, already leaking precum. He positioned himself at the Omega's entrance, his tip rubbing against the wet entrance.
"Look at me." The Alpha growled, grabbing the Omega's chin.
Y/N's gaze was half-lidded, his pupils blown wide. His skin was flushed and his breathing was heavy. He could feel the Alpha's cock throbbing against him, the tip catching on his rim every so often.
"Still think I'm a failure? Still think I'm not good enough?" Hal growled.
"You're not..."
Y/N cried out as the Alpha entered him roughly, the sudden intrusion making him clench around the thick shaft. His body was overly sensitive, and the feeling of being filled was almost too much. He couldn't stop his hips from rolling forward, his thighs shaking.
"Oh, God...!"
"Doesn't seem like I'm a failure, does it?"
"Fuck...Hal, please, I can't take it.." Y/N begged, his body trembling.
"No, you'll take it. You'll take every inch of me." The Alpha growled, his hands gripping the Omega's waist as he began thrusting in and out, his pace fast and rough.
"No, please, Hal...stop, I can't...!"
"You can, and you will."
Hal's fingers dug into Y/N's sides, his thrusts growing faster and harder. His eyes were trained on the Omega's face, taking in the sight of his tear-stained cheeks and the drool dripping from his lips. The scent coming from the smaller male was so sweet and tempting, the Alpha's nostrils flaring as he breathed it in.
"Fuck, you're always so tight. Such a good little Omega for me."
"N-no, I'm not...I'm not..."
"Yes, you are. You're mine. My Omega."
The Alpha leaned forward, his teeth grazing the Omega's neck. He could feel the smaller male's pulse-quickening, his body shivering as the Alpha's warm breath ghosted across his skin.
"You're mine, Y/N. No one else's."
"H-Hal..."
"You're gonna be my mate, and you're gonna carry my seed and give me my first kid. I deserve it. I'm a better Alpha than any of them."
"N-nh ... ah ... n-no."
"Yes, you will. I'll fill you up with my cum, and I'll make sure it takes."
Hal leaned down over the Omega's body, his front pressing against the smaller male's chest as he continued his relentless assault on his cunt. His thrusts were deep and hard, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the air.
"Mine...mine...mine." The Alpha growled, his lips ghosting over the Omega's jaw and neck.
"H-Hal, please...it h-hurts." Y/N choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks as his hands clawed at the Alpha's wrist.
"Yeah, that's right. Beg. Who's a third-rate Alpha now, huh? Who's a failure now, Y/N?" Hal snarled while nipping the Omega's jaw and neck, the sound of the conference table creaking and groaning under their weight.
Y/N had already been through his third climax at this point, his body overstimulated and sore all over from the Alpha's rough treatment. He couldn't think straight, his mind overwhelmed by the pleasure and pain coursing through him.
"H-Hal, no, s-stop, p-plea–"
The Omega's cries were cut off by the Alpha's hand wrapping around his throat, squeezing tightly.
"Shut the fuck up. I'll let you breathe and talk when you're ready to admit who you belong to. Not before."
"H-Hal..."
The Alpha's hips were slamming into the Omega's, the sound of their bodies coming together echoing throughout the room. His knot was swelling, his thrusts growing more and more erratic.
Hal had never fucked him so brutally before, landing a harsh slap on the side of his bottom every so often while squeezing his neck even tighter. His insides felt like they were on fire, his walls clenching and throbbing around the Alpha's length.
"All that talk earlier and now look at you, crying and begging for me to stop. What happened to you thinking I'm a failure, huh? Did you change your mind?"
"I-I d-didn't. Y-you're a f-failure." Y/N managed to choke out despite his oxygen-deprived brain.
The Alpha's thrusts grew even harder, his knot catching on the Omega's rim every so often. He was close, his cock pulsating and throbbing inside the smaller male. He leaned up to stare the smaller male in the face, preparing to breed the smart-mouth brat while glaring at him through his mask.
"I can't wait to see Superman's face when you're round with my kid, knowing that you'll be mine and no one else's. And it'd better be a boy and an Alpha, or we'll be right back where we started," Hal growled, his grip on the Omega's throat tightening once more.
He continued hammering away at the Omega's heat, getting closer and closer to his end while Y/N approached his fourth, "Hope you weren't planning on having that weak Kryptonian with you during your heat. Because I'm gonna fuck you until you're pregnant, and then you're not gonna leave my side until I know you're carrying my child."
"P-perv..." Y/N weakly muttered, the Alpha's thrusts hitting his sweet spot repeatedly as he was forced to look into the Alpha's mask.
"Say what you want, but you know you're mine. And don't think I'm not going to punish you for those words earlier. I'll have you gagged and tied to the bed until you're carrying my kid. No protection this time."
Despite the lack of air in his lungs, Y/N, through the cloggy fog of his sex-muddled brain managed to mutter out one more thing before meeting his fate on the Green Lantern's knot, "I'd rather have Superman's kid than your failure spawn."
And just like that, Hal's grip on his throat tightened and his knot swelled and caught inside the Omega's hot cavern, his cock releasing his hot load while he growled, "That's it. You're gonna get it now."
Hal's knot kept his cum from spilling out of the Omega's throbbing walls, his grip tightening even more around the Omega's neck as he choked the life out of the smaller male.
The seething anger across Hal's face as he bred the Omega with his cum while he struggled to breathe was the last thing Y/N saw before blacking out.
While Y/N slipped into unconsciousness, Hal got the eerie feeling he was being watched, turning to see a trail of a familiar red cape through the small window in the door.
Superman.
The Alpha felt a sense of accomplishment and superiority, smirking as his hand squeezed the Omega's neck and the other ran down his body, settling at the base of his stomach, "Don't worry, Y/N, I'll take care of you. I'll prove to you who's the best Alpha. Just you wait."
When his knot finally deflated, Hal pulled out his limp cock from the Omega's sloppy hole. He watched as his cum spilled out of the smaller male's pink and puffy cunt, his fingers scooping some up. He pushed it back inside, his smirk growing wider.
He re-formed his entire suit while doing his best to cover him before slinging his unconscious form over his shoulder, making his way out of the room and the Hall. He was going to have his Omega, whether he liked it or not.
He was going to breed him and make him bear his child, and no one was going to stop him.
Hal had been walking for a few minutes when a large gust of wind nearly knocked him over, Superman standing before him, his expression unreadable, "What the hell do you want, Kryptonian?"
"Give him to me."
"No."
"That wasn't a request, Jordan," Clark growled, his eyes narrowing, "Give him to me."
"I don't think so. I'm the only Alpha here, and I'm going to take him back home. I'll show him that I'm the better man. And there's nothing you can do but accept it," Hal said, a hint of smugness in his voice.
"Like hell, I am," Clark said, his eyes glowing red.
Hal barely had time to react before the Omega was ripped from his shoulder and cradled in Superman's arms, "What the hell?! Get your hands off him, you bastard!"
"I'm not the bastard, Hal. That title goes to you," Clark growled, his tone cold, "Now, stay away from Y/N. If I find out you've touched him again, I'll personally deliver your ring back to Oa myself. Got it?"
The Green Lantern was left speechless, watching as the Kryptonian flew off with the Omega. He was pissed, and he knew he had to get him back. He wouldn't let Superman steal what was rightfully his.
"Alright, then. Round three it is, fly-boy."
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☀️ | Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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onelittlespiral · 9 days
Note
I’ve been looking for a fraternity to join at my new college, but none of them have really been letting me in. The only one left seems to be full of horny jocks that are dumber than a bag of bricks. Think you could help me… fit in?
FML: In
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As you laid it all out in front of your friend, your plans, your goals, your desires, he just kind of shook his head in disbelief:
“I know that I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but damn that’s disappointing.”
“What’s so wrong about wanting to pledge?” you replied, “It would just make getting connected the university so much easier. Plus, the parties are legendary.”
“No I get it,” he scowled, “but really? Pi Kappa Epsilon?”
“Listen, they weren’t my first choice either. I would have preferred a group a little less… dim.” I knew he wouldn’t leave it there.
“Dim? Dim still implies some light on upstairs. You can just call them what they are: brainless frat bros. They think with their dicks and muscle their way through academics. I can’t believe you’re asking me to use my power for this.” He began walking towards the door.
I called after, “Look, I’ve seen you do crazier shit than this. You turned the guy upstairs into a dog for a week.”
He stopped in the door frame for a minute to chuckle, “If he was going to call the RA a bitch he may as well get first hand experience.”
“Please dude.” I stared at him.
After a moment he relented, “Fine. But are you sure you want this? You want to change for this? A frat?”
“Yes. And I promise I’ll get you into any party you want!”
“Fine. Give me a bit. But remember, you asked for it.”
He returned in a bit and tossed me a necklace from across the room, “Here’s your frat solution. Wear this to your next thing with them at their house.”
You inspected it. It looked like a basic chain necklace like you had seen other guys wear around “And do what? What does it do?”
He rolled his eyes, “And do nothing. It will help you fit into the frat, I promise.”
“No magic words or anything?” I asked.
He grinned, “Oh come on, think of me as better than needing all that crap. Now put it on so you don’t lose it.”
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It fits well around your neck, “I’m headed over there tonight, I think it is the last event before they drop everyone. You sure this will work?”
“Trust me,” he says, “You want in the frat? You will be in the frat.”
When you arrive at the frat house, you do feel the necklace almost pulling you inside. It feels warm against your chest as you wander around, talking with some brothers and checking in with your fellow pledges. You get a sense of magnetism from it, like the necklace is pulling the frat house around it towards you. As the party kicks into gear, you focus less on the chain and more on socializing. But whatever it’s effect, it seems to be working. Brothers and other pledges are seeming to stumble over themselves trying to talk with you. Even the pledge master gives a knowing glance and tilts his head in approval. In a little under two hours, you begin to feel more at home in the house, more comfortable in the crowd. Maybe for the first time you feel a sense of brotherhood. So it is a shock when you step into the bathroom to take a piss and take a look in the mirror.
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You don’t recognize the face that stared back. You blinked in confusion, assuming you had too much to drink. But no. The stranger in the mirror stared back into your eyes, copying your every move as you tilted your head and inspected your face in awe. The trance broke as you glanced down and saw the truth. Your polo shirt stretched against your chest as two pectorals firmly pushed out, flexing with each breath. Your pants had grown tight around my quads, now a good few inches short. They hugged your ass so tightly you were surprised they hadn’t ripped. Tattoos flowed down your arms, newly ripped and well toned. You noticed for the first time the power you felt coursing through your veins. You could almost feel your skin taut against your muscles as they slowly swelled. You pulled your top off to get a better look at the action.
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‘Damn I look good’ you think as you admire the new cum gutters and still developing 6-pack. You try out a few poses in the mirror, just to see the muscles move. The necklace is no joke. No way PKE would drop you now, you looked like you fit right in. But, at the same time, you figured it may be time to get the necklace off. You didn’t want to change too much, and no telling how far it would go. You go for the back of your neck and and start to fiddle with the clasp when the necklace suddenly starts to warm up.
You feel the odd magnetism is no longer subtle. It feels as though the necklace is pulling against the frat house you, drawing it’s very essence towards you. At the same time, the growth within your body stops as the necklace channels all its energy towards your head. The sudden spike hits like a migraine, as you let go of the necklace and go to hold your temples. The necklace wants to finish its work. Your senses are sharpened to a point, as you feel the heat of the bros downstairs, taste cheap beer and seltzers, hear every footstep, see every muscle and bulge, and smell 100 horny men all at once. You feel the pure energy of the fraternity pull through your body as it shapes you. Beneath the pressure, your mind buckles as false memories push their way in. Memories of watching college football on TV. Working out during the summer to become a fucking stud. Playing the field as soon as you got to college. Meeting up with some brothers to get a foot in the door. Getting called a fuckboi for the first time on Tinder. Wearing it like a badge of pride.
Your brain throbbed as the energy reshaped your memories and personality, but your balls churned as it began to adjust your libido. They ached as they swelled to the size of golf balls. Your cock was rigid at attention as you grabbed it with both meaty hands and started to pump. Your body writhed as every stroke only makes the pleasure more intense. You are soon hot with the effort. An aura of testosterone and sweat formed around you as a frat funk sets in deep: a mixture of booze, yesterday’s workout, and cheap cologne. The smell only drives you more wild, and you start to feel your brain short circuit. Your mind, consumed by pleasure, gave into the pressure and lost any remaining will to resist. The necklace pulsed in time with your throbbing cock as it buried the old you. As you reached climax, you knew there was no going back. As you shot your load across the room, a new you was released. A dumb, horny frat bro ready to pledge PKE.
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And then the door behind you opened.
The pledge master, apparently worried by how long you had been in here, walked in on your afterglow as you tucked your cock back into your pants.
“Hey man, you okay?” he asked before recoiling a step. You watched as he smelled your rank funk and nearly gagged. You took a step closer.
“Yeah bro, better than ever. What about you? You look like you’re about to vomit.” you said, leaning in a bit closer. You flex your muscles and let your pit stench join the lingering cloud. You feel yourself start to harden again as he tried not to react.
“Bro, you are fucking rank. You smell like a… like a-”
“Like a frat house should?” you taunted. He had stopped recoiling and seemed now to be fighting a different urge.
“I don’t know bro, you should get- get that looked at.”
His eyes were focused on your muscles as you slowly flexed them rhythmically to the music downstairs. I felt the necklace pulling him closer as he fought the urges he is having. Fuck, you remembered that feeling, that pull towards desire. You knew how to help him out though. You grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips to your pecs. As his lips connected with your flesh and tasted the beads of sweat that rolled down your chest, he wrapped his arms around you and began worshiping your muscles. As he kissed and licked every inch of your chest and washboard abs, he gently rubbed against your rigid cock. It wasn’t long before he was licking at the fabric separating his mouth from his prize. But as he reached for the elastic band around your waist, you grabbed his hair and pulled him up.
Your mind reveled in in the power you held in your hands and the pleasure your new frat bro could cause with his mouth. But you only had one thing left on you mind:
“I wanna be in the frat bro.” You said.
He mumbled as his mouth still searched for your flesh, “Yeah man, sure thing. I’ll make it happen. You can be a frat bro. Just please let me suck on your-“
“No,” you boomed. You pulled him out of the bathroom and into the nearest bedroom, locking the door behind you. You grabbed his ass as he grew limp in your hands, “I want to be in the frat bro.” You slip your hand beneath his gym shorts and begin slowly finger fucking his tight, straight hole.
He understood his place as he slipped off his shorts and underwear, leaving his cheeks on full display.
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He moaned like he was in heat, “Yeah bro. Please. I would be so honored.”
You bent him over and spat in his quivering hole before you pressed your cock against him. You didn’t wait for him to relax as you slammed your cock as deep as you could and watched him yelp in surprise. As you slowly sped up and heard him start to moan, you felt the necklace once again start to warm against my chest as its power flowed through your cock and into the bro beneath you. He too began to sweat with the funk of the frat as was remade in its image under your guidance. He was going to become just as unified with PKE as you were.
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champagnefountains · 2 months
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So...Alastor went missing for a while after the extermination right? Would you be open to a story where the reader is taking care of Al after he gets back? Maybe still a little mad at him for vanishing, more worried about him being hurt...just the fall out that comes from not knowing if he was alive or not? Your first Lucifer story was wonderful!! You really have a solid foundation for this and I'm excited to see more from you!!
Aw, thank you so much! I'm really, really glad you enjoyed the Lucifer story! And omg, I love this idea...I live for angst so here's some more~!
ALASTOR - H.H.
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A/N: They probably were able to rebuild the entire hotel in less than a day, but just to make it more dramatic, I made Alastor's disappearance two days long. Also, I'm not exactly too happy with the pacing here...so I apologise in advance ;-;
Word count: 2.8k+ words (I need to control myself...also unedited, sorta). Genre/other tags: Angst with good ending. OOC Alastor (I think?...sorry...). Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of blood. Talk about loss/death.
After the cancellation of this year’s extermination and Hell's victory against Heaven’s forces, Charlie and the team had spent the next couple of days repairing the damages caused. The team’s morale was as high as ever as they busied themselves reconstructing and making significant renovations to the hotel, their spirits brightening at the prospect of the potential influx of evil-doers to their establishment. There was no doubt that the hotel’s popularity had boomed, as there wasn’t a single soul in Hell that didn’t know about their contribution towards the annual culling. 
However, there was one thing that had been plaguing your mind since the end of the bloodshed: Alastor's whereabouts. Everyone, including yourself, knew that the Radio-Demon was more than capable of looking after himself, considering his high-regarded reputation in all the Nine Circles. However, it’s been two days since the battle and there wasn’t a single trace of him anywhere. And as his significant other, it bothered you to no end. And it wasn’t like you could call him either – Alastor strictly refused to use a mobile phone or any electronic device, no matter how much you pried. He didn’t even make any attempts to reach out to you, whether it be from your own portable radio that he gifted you, or even a small note or letter. Absolutely nothing.
Currently, the hotel has just completed its final transformation with big thanks to Lucifer and Charlie's magical powers and sorcery. With your distress multiplying with every passing second, you couldn't bring yourself to be as excited as the others. You silently excused yourself from the group by the main entrance, wandering off to the furthest side of the building and turning the corner. With a trembling sigh, you leaned against the wall, covering your mouth with your hands as a sob wracks through your body.
You hadn't felt as anxious as you were, in so, so long. It must've been the build up from the months-long preparations made to fend off Heaven to now, that had you overwhelmed. Yes, there was no doubt that Alastor was powerful, but he fought Adam head on – the very first man – which you were able to only catch minor glimpses of in the midst of battle. And that was probably the last time you saw him.
You didn't want to think about the possibility of loss. Because there's no way, right? ...Right? The others were also quick to reassure you plenty of times, sensing your growing unease with each passing day. But it did little to nothing to help ease your nerves. Preoccupied in your own despair, you failed to sense an approaching figure among the shadows.
"'Cher? What are you doing, hiding all the way down here?" A static-like voice called out, causing you to stiffen, "you should be celebrating with the others! You wouldn't want to miss out on such an exciting time!" Eyes widening, you swiftly pivoted yourself to face them. Low and behold, the source of your worries stood before you, all in one piece, smiling down at you with his usual Cheshire-like grin.
"...Alastor?" You weakly called out. Your wavering tone caused the Overlord to raise a brow, mild confusion taking over him. "Yes, my dear?" He asks with a tilt of his head. But it wasn't until he took a closer look at your distressed features that his expression softened a faction. "Darling, you're upset...why are you crying?"
Despite your immense relief, you couldn't help but send him a baffled look. "Wha-Why am I crying? Are you serious, Al?" You spat back incredulously. "You've been gone for two days! Two days! And I didn't know where or-or how you were! Can’t you even imagine how I must've felt when I couldn't find you after the fight?” Alastor only blinked at your sudden outburst. “And you don't even think to tell any of us where you've gone off to! I thought...I-I thought..." Your voice died down as a sob threatened to leave your throat. "I-I thought you were gone."
"Oh, dear, don't be silly," Alastor softly chuckles, fixing his monocle, "it'll take more than those pesky, little angels to get rid of me!" His lanky legs strided towards you, his head shaking in mild amusement. He stops just before you, leaning forward to pat your head reassuringly. Sniffling, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. It gave you the reassurance you wanted and needed – it was proof that he was here with you, physically. However, the action unexpectedly causes Alastor to stiffen. You furrow your brows, lifting your head to send him a questioning look.
"...Al? Are you okay?" You worriedly ask, slowly unwrapping yourself to inspect him. Usually, Alastor didn't mind whether you initiated physical contact and vice versa, especially considering that you had been together for a while now. You then glanced behind him and your surroundings in caution – there didn't seem to be anyone watching either, knowing that he wasn't as fond of PDA. 
As you pan your eyes towards his face, you were surprised to see a tensed expression. "N-Nothing to worry about, darling," he says through a forced smile, waving his hand dismissively before sharply pivoting himself the other direction. "Now, shall we go join the others now? They're probably wondering where we've both gone!" Nonchalant, he begins walking off with his hands crossed behind his back. That was...strange. Something was clearly wrong, you think to yourself.
"Al, wait!" You jog towards him, passing and stopping him in his tracks. "Is...is there something wrong?" You worriedly ask. "I just...I feel like you're not telling me something. I-If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"
You felt your words die in your throat as a noticeably large, wet patch began to form against his dress shirt. You let out a startled gasp. "Wha–you're‐you're bleeding!" You cry in panic, hands raising and twitching in front of you with uncertainty. His expression darkening, Alastor stubbornly shook his head, gently pushing you aside by the shoulder, "Like I said, it's nothing to worry about. It's not but a small scratch! I'll be fine, dear–"
"No, you're not fine!" You interjected, eyes blurring in tears and wavering. Your hands shook as you gawked at the growing stain on his shirt. At that, you didn't miss the way Alastor's lips twitched in presumed pain, as small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Gritting your teeth, you reach out to grab his wrist, preparing to pull him towards the hotel's entrance. "Come on, Al. W-We need to get you cleaned up–" A firm squeeze in your hand stopped you in your tracks as you turned back to face him, distressed.
"[Name]. I said I'll be fine," he sternly says, his voice contorting in static. Despite the sinister grin he displayed, it left you unfazed. You pinched your brows and balled your fists in frustration, staring at him in disbelief. "...What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at the deer-demon, "You're clearly not fine–you wouldn't be fucking bleeding right now if you were fine!"
Alastor clicked his tongue, "Darling, you're exaggerating too much, don’t you think? You don't need to fret—"
"Shut up! I-I don't give a damn who you think you are! Strong Overlord or not, I'm worried, okay?! I-I'll always be worried about you!" Angry tears began pouring from your eyes. "I was scared for my life when I didn't hear from you the past few days! I didn't know what happened to you–if you were okay or even alive! I-I couldn't even get a single blink of sleep last night, so don't fucking tell me to not worry!" Alastor's egotistical and prideful personality was not news to you and everyone else – you knew how stubborn he could be, and now was no exception. It was absolutely infuriating.
Alastor's grim expression eased at your growing distress, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he watched you messily wipe your face. You took a brief moment to compose yourself, your breaths shaky and uneven. "Look, just–I don't want to argue right now, okay?" You hiccup, "i-if you don't want the other's seeing you like this, just...I-I don't know, teleport us inside the hotel somewhere. Just anything, so I can stitch you up properly."
Begrudgingly, Alastor manifested his microphone from thin air. He didn't have any room to argue with you here. He then softly taps the ground with the bottom of the stand twice, casting a group of black shadows from the ground. They surrounded you both in a circular-like motion, completely filling your sights with a black void. There was a brief gust of wind and it didn't take long until they dissipated, the both of you now standing in what was assumed to be your new shared room in the hotel – it was nearly identical to your previous one before the reconstruction, save for the new wallpaper.  
"Remove your shirt. I'll get the kit," you immediately order as you point at the bed, gesturing for him to sit. You then disappear into the bathroom for a brief moment, grabbing the small first-aid kit under the sink before returning to the bedroom. Alastor had already sat himself down the edge of the bed, his dirty button-up and coat neatly folded on the floor, and his chest bare. You grimaced as you eyed the massive, fresh gash across his scarred chest, that was somewhat tended to with poor stitching.
You let out a disapproving sigh. "I expected your patching to be a little better than this,” you comment as you set the kit beside him, taking out some gauze and alcohol. Alastor rolls his eyes. "It's not everyday you get struck by an angelic weapon, dear," he shoots back sarcastically. There was a small stagger in your movement, your jaw clenching as a deep frown settled on your lips. So it was because of Adam that he's in this state, you sourly think. You try to not let the thought affect you too much as you begin disinfecting his wound.
While you were fixing him up, the both of you remained in complete silence. You actively chose to ignore his piercing gaze in the meantime, which practically burned through your skull as you maintained your focus solely on his wound. Your earlier frustrations didn't seem to simmer down either, deciding to keep quiet to prevent another one-sided shouting battle. As much as you loved Alastor, his lack of understanding towards your concerns vexed you to no end. Because, hypothetically speaking, what if he had actually died during his fight against Adam? If his body went missing, you were never going to find the closure you needed and were probably gonna go on with your life not knowing of his whereabouts. Your life would've been completely miserable with the constant grieving. And like Alastor smartly said, it wasn’t everyday that he’d be fighting a divine opponent, so definitive defeat wouldn’t be completely off of the table despite being quite powerful himself. 
The mere thought brought fresh tears to your eyes, which you were quick to blink away. ‘No…there’s no point dwelling in the past and what-if’s,’ you reprimand yourself. Alastor’s here, after all. That's the only thing that matters right now. But regardless, you still remained upset.
After a while and now satisfied with your craft, you neatly applied a bandage around his chest and waist. "...Don't put too much pressure on it for a while," you quietly advised as you began packing the equipment away. You continued to ignore his gaze, knowing that you'd lose your composure if you were to look at him. Without sparing him a glance, you lazily chucked the kit by the bedside table and made your way towards the door. Shortly after, you left the room without another word.
You found yourself aimlessly walking on the balcony facing the bar, near the main entrance. There, you saw Charlie walking up the stairs adjacent from you, who was quick to catch your approaching form. "[Name], there you are! I was just looking for you!" She cheerily says, skipping towards you with excited steps. "Everything looks so, so amazing, can you believe it?! Oh, oh! We all saw Alastor, by the way! I told you he was going to be fine–erm, [Name]?" The Princess forced her banter to a halt upon spotting your swollen, red eyes.
"Hey, hey, what happened?" She softly asks, coming forth to rub your back. You open your mouth to speak but consciously stop to think your answer through. You knew not to speak a word of Alastor’s state at the moment, knowing it would desecrate his persona. So you decide to keep it short and vague. 
"Alastor and I...we, uhm…had a small fight," you briefly explain with a tight-lipped smile. Charlie’s eyes softened in understanding. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did...do you wanna talk about it?” She kindly offers, holding your hand. You shake your head, “It’s alright, Princess. I’ll be okay in due time.” You didn’t want to dampen the overall mood and atmosphere, after all the hard work and sweat shed for this very moment. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure…” she hesitantly replies, giving you another quick look-over. “Say, how about we get you cleaned up a little and we head down and join the others? It’ll help clear your mind a little bit, yeah?”  
Bless her heart, you think with a small smile. With a nod, Charlie dragged you to the nearby restroom, where you splashed your face with water and did minor touch-ups to look somewhat decent. Shortly after, you joined the others by the main lounge, who all cheered and welcomed you with open arms. All the while, your mind automatically wandered to Alastor, who you knew was dwelling somewhere within the hotel. 
After a couple hours of celebration, you all decided to retire for the night, exhausted from the day's work. Charlie had sent you off with a small hug, wishing you luck as you slowly made your way back to your room. You felt your heart thump loudly against your ears as you spotted your room number in the distance, which only intensified as you reached for the knob and opened the door.
With a deep breath, you entered the room and to your surprise, you found Alastor where you had left him. However this time, he was already in his night-wear and was comfortably sitting upright and against the bed frame, legs under the covers and reading some book. He made no effort to acknowledge your presence as he hummed a random, sweet tune, licking a finger to flick a page of the novel he was supposedly engrossed in. You didn't know what would've irked you more – the fact that he wasn't addressing you right now or alternatively, if he were to go on about his day in his usual chirpy-self, and not bring up what had happened. Reciprocating his behaviour, you wordlessly went to the bathroom to do your usual night routine and changed into a comfortable set of pyjamas. When you were done, you beelined towards your side of the bed, stiffly slipping under the covers with your back facing him and pulling the covers close to your face. 
The tension was dripping as the room filled with an uncomfortable silence. You unconsciously found yourself pacing your own breaths, as if you were worried that you were breathing a sound wave too loud. You also didn't move a single inch from your spot, remaining stagnant like a statue. It remained that way for a short while, unable to find a single blink of sleep or tiredness, just as you did the past couple days.
“Darling, I know you’re awake…” Alastor says, finally breaking the silence as he shuts his book with a soft thud, placing it by the bedside table. There was a brief pause, as if he was waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t. You listen intently in silent anticipation as you dug yourself further into your pillow.
“I…I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. It wasn’t in my intentions to upset you,” he continues, “I didn’t mean to carelessly dismiss your concerns the way I did. I understand that you’re merely worried for me. After all, if had it been you in my place instead, I would’ve acted the same way, if not more. And I’m sorry for troubling you these past few days. It was due to my carelessness that made you disregard your own health and caused you so much distress. With that, I want to express my utmost gratitude to you for looking after me despite it all. I…I hope you can forgive me, darling.” 
It was simple and straight to the point. And yet, his words struck a chord with you, causing a new onset of tears to flow and dampen the bed sheets. Alastor wasn’t one to easily admit his faults and apologise the way he did, so his words had so much of an impact on you. Though you had your own few questions to ask him, you suppose that this was enough for the time being as you didn’t want another day to go by, remaining in conflict with each other. You turn yourself to face him, sitting up and tearfully looking up at him. Silent, Alastor looked back down at you in a hopeful manner, his usual grin on his face. “O-Of course, I forgive you,” you quietly replied as you carefully hugged his side, “I-I just…I want you to look after yourself better. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if I had lost you then.” 
Huffing in relief, he softly snickers into your hair, running one of his claws through its strands. “Like I said, you won’t lose me, my dear. I’ll even wreak havoc across all of Hell to get back to you,” he cheesily coos as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You wetly chuckle at his remark, leaning into him closer. “That’s quite a huge commitment to make, Al. You promise you gonna keep your word for it?” you jokingly reply, playfully poking at his chest. Grin widening, Alastor boops your nose with a single digit, “that’s a guarantee, darling.” 
582 notes · View notes
moonsgemini · 9 months
Text
dress - ii
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summary: rafe is finally able to show his girl just how much she means to him.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, smutty smut, oral (f+m), p in v, smidge of dirty talk, praise kink, rafe, teasing, creampie (hate that), choking (nothing crazy), fluff, fem reader
wc: 3.7k
an: this can be read as a stand alone tbh, also this is my first time writing smut in a while so if it sucks girl I apologize lol I was really losing it towards the end but I pulled through. I TRIED MY BEST PLS
part one
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The sunlight seeping through the sheer curtains had gently woken Rafe up. He had been dreaming about her and he wished he could go back to sleep. When he rolled over with his eyes still closed he realized there was someone next to him. He opened his eyes with furrowed brows, his confusion fading once he saw her messy hair sprawled against the pillows. The events of the night before coming back to him.
He smiled to himself feeling content. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. In her sleep she lightly groaned and pushed up against him. Subconsciously trying to get closer. Rafe could get used to this. The smell of her shampoo filling his senses, the warmth of the sun coming through her window. He didn’t even want to sleep anymore he wanted to be awake to enjoy this moment.
What if she woke up and remembered who he was or his reputation and decided she never wanted to see him again. Maybe the kiss last night was a tipsy mistake.
The girl in his arms began to stir awake breaking him from his thoughts. She hummed as she turned to lie on her back, stretching like a cat before turning to face him. Rafe could have died a happy man then and there as he looked at her sleepy eyes and the lazy smile that formed on her lips when she saw him.
“Morning,” she mumbled, almost shy.
He smiled, “Morning.”
He reached forward and brushed her hair out of her face, he wanted to see all of her. A comfortable silence fell over them as they both just observed each other. She couldn’t believe she had this greek god in her bed. Her friends were going to kill her but she didn’t care.
“So what’s for breakfast?” She asked innocently, hinting that she didn’t want the day with him to end yet.
Rafe pretended to think, “hmmm I can think of few things that sound good,” he smirked.
“Oh yeah like what?” She definitely didn’t get his innuendo.
He moved quickly to hover over her, he used his knee to nudge her legs open so he could rest between them. His arms on either side of her head supporting himself up. The closeness made her face get hot. She was suddenly aware that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and he only had boxers on. She was in some tiny shorts and a tank top. She was grateful she didn’t wake up with a boob hanging out.
“I believe I owe you an act of appreciation,” He smirked and placed a soft kiss against her cheek. She closed her eyes and swallowed thickly, he was going to be the death of her.
“What does that have to do with breakfast?” She asked in a breathy whisper. She felt like if she talked too loud she would ruin the moment.
He placed a kiss on her other cheek, her forehead, and then her chin, “Well I see a very sweet meal in front of me. I’ve been dying to get a taste,” he placed on last kiss on her neck. This one lasting a little longer.
Her eyes fluttered closed savoring the contact, “You’re so cheesy,” She laughed softly.
“You turn me into a romantic,” He smiled genuinely and she reciprocated it.
Rafe leaned down to finally place a kiss on her lips. It was just as good as the night before, the kiss feeling like electricity. He sighed like he was finally breathing fresh air. The kiss started out soft and gentle but quickly turned into something more passionate. Like he wanted to make up for all the time they haven’t been doing this. Her hands found purchase in his hair. Tugging at the short strands when his tongue began poking into her mouth.
She had been dying to know what he tasted like and after finding out last night that he was even better than she imagined, she was addicted. She didn’t even care if she had morning breath because it didn’t seem like Rafe cared. One of his hands moved down to her waist. Rubbing up and down, his thumb catching onto her tank top and tugging it slightly. Her skin felt like it was on fire as he touched her. She moved one of her legs to wrap around his hips to tug him closer to her. Rafe hummed in satisfaction.
His hand moving to her hips and legs, touching as much skin as he could. He’d been dreaming of this for so long he wanted to savor it. Take advantage of having her here and feel as much of her as he could. He moved his lips back down to her neck needed to catch his breath.
She let out a small moan as he kissed that spot below her ear. It was like he knew exactly what to do. His kisses started moving lower. He sat up on bis knees and placed his hands on either side of her shirt. Looking at her to ask for permission, he didn’t want to mess this up. He wanted to be perfect for her. She nodded her head quickly, wanting to be naked already.
Rafe tugged her shirt off and lost his breath. He could have cum then and there. She was better than his dreams. She started getting timid as he kept staring at her. She’s slept with people before but it was never like this, no one ever actually looked at her.
He leaned forward and pressed teasing kisses on her stomach working his way up her torso. He cupped her breast in his large hand, his thumb moving back and forth over her nipple gently. He kissed in between her breasts before moving his mouth to the one that wasn’t getting attention. He kissed around it before he wrapped his lips around her nipple, his tongue moving back and forth languidly. He’d switch from licking to gently sucking. She was in heaven, feeling an immense amount of pleasure over something so simple.
“Fuck,” She muttered softly. Arching her back on the mattress to somehow get closer to him.
“You’re amazing,” He muttered as his mouth traveled back up her body. Reaching her lips once again he kissed her with meaning.
Rafe’s hand moved down to her shorts. His fingers skimmed over the top of them, fingers slipping teasingly under the band. He moved to sit back on his knees, he looked at her and groaned at the sight. Her pretty lips were swollen and her chest was moving up and down at a faster pace. Her hair messy around her. He wished he could take a picture but he knows he’ll never forget how she looks in this moment.
He began to rub her thighs before grabbing her shins and pushing her legs up so her knees were bent. He looked at her core seeing how the fabric pulled tightly against her heat. He could tell she wasn’t wearing underwear and he just couldn’t believe he was getting to have his way with her.
She had been struggling below him. Wanting him to do anything, she felt her pussy ache as he just watched her with a dazed expression. She could feel how wet she was already, she had began clenching around nothing. Just the thought of Rafe was enough to turn her on.
She sighed weakly speaking up, “Rafe please do something.”
He looked up at her and smirked, “Patience baby. Good girls are patient.” He rubbed his hands all around the expanse of her thighs. When he’d rub her inner thighs he’d purposely rub his fingers against her clit pretending it was an accident. His hands felt like heaven on her, she was so turned on any contact from him was sending her over the edge.
After what felt like hours he splayed his hand across her groin and his thumb hovered over her center. He teasingly rubbed light circles over the fabric. He could see a small wet patch in the middle of her shorts. It was feeding his ego to know she was this attracted to him. He felt like he didn’t deserve her, she was a goddess in his eyes. Everything about her was so perfect to him, even the way her body reacted to him was perfect.
“Fuck I can’t believe it’s taken us this long,” He pressed his thumb down harder making slow circles.
“I’ve wanted you for so long baby. Have wanted to make you feel good for so long,” His words and the movement of his hands caused jolts of pleasure to go through her body. She felt like she was on cloud nine.
“Oh Rafe I’ve needed you for so long,” She sighed opening her eyes to find him already looking at her. He had been watching her reactions enjoying how good he was making her feel.
She let out a small wine when he pulled his hand away but then he swiftly moved one of her legs to the other side and pulled off her shorts. He put her leg back to where it was so he was in between them again. He positioned her back to how she was with her feet flat on the bed. He licked his lips, saliva pooling in his mouth as he gaped at her glistening pussy. He had never seen anything so beautiful.
“Baby you’re so gorgeous,” He mumbled as he moved lower on the bed to lay on his stomach. His face now level with her hips. He kissed the inside of her thighs beginning from the top of the knee to where her legs met her groin. He did this on each side wanting to savor her.
She felt like she was being worshipped with the way he kissed her and touched her. Like he thought she was better than him and needed to be indulged and savored. Rafe used two fingers to run through his slit, his fingers getting coated in her arousal as he rubbed between her folds. The squelching sound turning him on even more if it was possible. Rafe felt drunk off of her.
He almost missed the pretty sounds that were leaving her mouth because he was so concentrated on the area that needed him most. She moaned and whined at the feeling of his fingers running over her. Her hands were gripping his hair. He pulled away and wrapped each of his hands around each of her thighs to spread her even wider.
Rafe leaned his head against her inner thigh as he went back to rub her clit in that way that made her eyes roll back. He would do that then move his fingers down to run through her folds to gather her wetness. He teasingly pushed the tips of his fingers into her. She let out a louder moan at this. He couldn’t wait to be inside of her. But he also wanted to tease her for as long as possible.
“You like that?” He asked not looking up at her too concentrated on rubbing circles on her clit. His other hand, that wrapped around the leg he was leaning on, reached up to cup her breast. The feeling of his fingers tweaking her nipple lightly was sending her closer to the edge.
“You’re so wet for me, you’re such a good girl.” He said turning to kiss her thigh lightly. He moved his fingers down her slippy folds teasingly until he got to her entrance again.
“Always wanna be good for you Rafe,” She whined trying to lift hips up to his fingers. If he would just put them inside of her already she’d come in two seconds.
He smiled as he slowly pushed two fingers into her, “You are good my love, the best.” He murmured as he watched some of her arousal drip down his fingers as he pushed farther in.
She was tight and warm, his dick aching in his boxers to be inside of her. But he could wait. He moved his fingers in and out slowly. His fingers curving up getting that spot that made her back arch and moans fall unabashedly from her lips. She could never reach it herself and no other partner had tried. But Rafe’s long fingers were perfect, he knew her body already.
He started to pick up the pace as her moans got louder. He could feel her walls squeezing him and that wet sounds of his movements never stopping. He lifted his head from his position and leaned forward wrapping his lips around her clit. He continued with his fingers as well.
She moaned loudly, “Oh shit I’m about to cum babe.” Her eyes were closed not being able to keep them open because of the pleasure. That fire in her stomach suddenly exploded and a tingling feeling over took her whole body. Her back arched off the bed, her legs squeezing around Rafe’s head as he relentlessly sucked and licked.
He started to slow down once she had come down from her high. He slowly removed his fingers but continued to clean her with his mouth. Not wanting to miss a single drop. After he lifted himself up to be on top of her again.
“Open,” Rafe said as he hovered over her.
Eager to obey she opened her mouth and he placed the two fingers that were inside of her on her tongue. She closed her mouth and moaned at the taste of herself on his fingers. She closed her eyes and sucked on his fingers licking him clean.
“Good girl,” He leaned down and kissed her. Her hips lifted up as she felt the tip of his dick in his boxers rub against her core. She needed him but she also wanted to make him feel good.
She pulled away and pushed his chest, “Lay down please,” she said softly knowing she would get her way with how she was looking at him. With big innocent eyes, ones he couldn’t say no to. He got off of her and laid next to her. She followed him and got on top.
y/n sat directly on his dick. His hard length pressed against her dripping core. She moaned closing her eyes leaning her head back. The feeling of him against her core was sending her over the edge. Any touch from him was making her feel like she was on fire. She leaned down to kiss him. Her hips slowing moving to grind against him, the friction causing a satisfied moan to break their kiss.
“I need to be inside of you,” Rafe said roughly, his hands gripping her hips. He pressed her down harder against him wanting more.
She kissed his chin then pressed a few kisses across his neck. Rafe closed his eyes and savored her gentleness. She continued to kiss down his chest as she moved lower. Her hands following as well as they felt the expanse of his muscular chest and torso.
She tugged at his boxers, “But I want to take care of you first,” She had a mischievous look in her eye. One that made Rafe swallow roughly.
“oh sweet girl,” He sighed, “You’re too good to me. Gonna wrap your pretty mouth around my cock?” He reached down and cupped her her face. His thumb stroking back and forth before it started tugging on her bottom lip. Y/n leaned forward with an open mouth taking and sucking on his thumb. Her tongue swirled back and forth and Rafe could have came just with that.
He knows he won’t last long if he lets her go down on him but he can’t find any words to say. Especially not when her ass is in the air as she hovers over him. Her big eyes staring up at him eager to please, how was he supposed to not let her do this?
She took his silence as a good sign and continued tugging his boxers off. His length came out slapping against his stomach. Her mouth watered at the sight, she had never wanted to please someone so badly.
She licked a stripe on the underside of his cock. Rafe let out a sigh, it felt like torture in the best way. She spit in her hand before wrapping it around him, her hand moving up and down as she got it wet. She leaned forward and took the tip into her mouth, teasing him by sucking and licking softly.
His hips moved up trying to get her to take more of him. She was killing him, he had never felt this good. She took more of him and her mouth. Threw her teasing out the window and bobbed her head up and down taking him in her mouth. Rafe groaned at the feeling of her wet warm mouth. His hands reached down to wrap around her hair and hold a makeshift pony tail. Rafe felt immediately close once he saw her swollen lips around him with drool dripping down her chin. Her eyes watering from taking him deep.
He pushed her away abruptly trying to catch his breath, “I’m literally going to cum if you don’t stop that, and I have a lot I still want to do to you.” He smirked standing up on knees and going behind her.
Rafe pushed her gently forward. Y/n went up the bed and bent over. Her ass in the air with her core on full display for him. He could see that she was still wet as her folds glistened, his ego inflated at the thought of her getting wet from giving him head. He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around her clit. He sucked gently before licked a few stripes across all of her.
He pulled away and slapped her ass. She moaned softly at the feeling shaking her hips and pushing herself towards him. Rafe grabbed his length and gave himself a few pumps before lining himself up with her entrance. He pushed forward slowing getting inside of her. They both moaned at the different feelings of pleasure. He was stretching her so good she couldn’t help but roll her eyes back.
He rubbed his hands all over her ass as he continued to push inside of her at a slow pace, “You’re so tight baby. So wet too fuck,” Now fully inside of her he leaned his head back at the feeling, “I’ve been obsessed with you since we met.”
He began to move his hips back and forth slowly, “Rafey you feel so good inside,” She moaned. He began to pick up the pace wanting her to be louder for him. He was hitting every spot she needed.
The room was being filled with the sounds of their moans and their skin slapping. Rafe had been waiting for so long for this and it was even better than he imagined. He couldn’t wait to give her what she deserves outside of the bedroom. He wanted to buy her everything she needed, would even get her a new house if she asked. He couldn’t wait to please her in every way.
Reaching forward he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up so her back was against his chest. The new angle he was fucking her at felt incredible. She leaned her head back laying on his shoulder, he brought his hand around her placing it over her neck.
Rafe was in heaven, he felt like the luckiest guy in the world by being able to have her like this. His other hand reached down her stomach until his fingers were over her clit. He gathered some of her arousal and began moving his fingers in circles. An unbelievable amount of please ran through her body. She started to feel that familiar knot in her stomach start to get tighter and tighter.
“Rafe I’m g-gonna cum,” She was able to mumble out through moans. Her mind was a mess and her vision was hazy. All she could think about and focus on was Rafe. Her body fell forward so her lower half was back on the bed.
“Cum for me baby,” He said gruffly into her ear doing his best not to cum yet. She let out a loud moan telling him she was cumming. Her face was buried into the mattress muffling her cries. He felt her walls tighten around him and he groaned, leaning his head back at the feeling. He slowed his pace as she finished.
Rafe fully pulled out and gently moved her to lay on her back. He wasted no more time and pushed into her once again. She let out a gasp at the feeling of him. Rafe began to thrust in and out of her. The wet sounds from her arousal getting him even closer. Rafe groaned at the sight of her, he leaned forward and captured her lips in his.
Their tongues danced against each other. Her hands running through his hair and scratching at his back when he’d hit that particular spot inside her. She arched her back, their faces still close together. She really liked Rafe and she really hoped this would be a one time thing.
“Ah shit where do you want me to cum?” He asked as he felt himself close to finishing.
“Inside, fuck I’m gonna cum,” She whined as she felt her whole body go tingly. Her whole body on fire. She couldn’t lie that if her head wasn’t so dizzy she’d say somewhere else but she needed him in every way. And she was on birth control.
“Fuck,” Rafe’s pace picked up as he came inside of her. After finishing he slowed down, breathing heavily. He pulled out gently and laid next to her.
y/n turned to lay her head on his chest. His heart was pounding, hearing it made a small smirk appear on her lips. They didn’t speak for a couple of minutes just enjoying the silence and being close to each other.
“I really like you if I haven’t made that clear enough,” Rafe said breaking the silence.
She laughed, “I really like you Rafe. I have for a while.”
“I’m sorry it took so long for me to do something,“ He ran his fingers through her hair.
She turned to look up at him, “We’re together now.”
He smiled and leaned down to kiss her, “Will you let me take you out somewhere nice tonight?”
“Yes of course,” She kissed one more time barely being able to because she couldn’t stop smiling.
-
tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @kw13cheer @weareatthebadlands (if I missed you I apologize!!)
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supernovafics · 6 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.7k words
summary: in which a moment at a party that led to a drunken kiss and a heartfelt admission pushes you and your best friend away from each other. after nearly a week of silence, it’s still hard to find the right words to say to steve and to find the right way to mend what feels as if it has been permanently broken. until you’re drunk at a bar and he is the one to come and get you.
warnings: bestfriend!steve, explicit language, underage alcohol consumption, angst with a happy ending<33
author’s note: this was sitting in the drafts for a veryvery long time and i’ve finally decided to let it see the light of day🫶🏾 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The bar was comforting in a weird kind of way. 
It was pretty dark and empty for the most part, which partly made sense since it was ten o’clock on a random Wednesday night. You didn’t mind the music softly playing and the stool you were sitting on actually felt comfortable, or maybe it was the alcohol making you believe that.
Somehow even with the number of drinks you’d had in the past hour, it still didn’t manage to effectively push your thoughts far away from Steve and what happened at Robin’s birthday party. 
You couldn’t not think about the kiss with him, which you had abruptly and drunkenly initiated; it was a kiss that felt simultaneously wrong and right. And his words that followed the kiss played on what felt like an endless loop in your mind too.
“I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted us, for practically forever. Ever since that moment our mom’s forced us to meet at that county fair thing when we were ten, I think I knew it was you.” 
It was hard to think about what you did in response to that, but still the quick, “I’m sorry, I can’t,” you managed to stutter out before basically running away from him played on equal loop in your head.  
The two of you hadn’t spoken since that Saturday night, with you returning back to your college that was two hours away from Hawkins early the next morning. And you were unsure if it was you leading this dance or if both of you were equally avoiding each other because the phone calls that would happen practically daily were reduced to nothing. It had barely been a week, but it was long enough for everything in your life to feel shifted; to feel a little emptier. 
“You look like you need to talk to someone,” The bartender, a woman who you were certain couldn’t be older than thirty, said as she slid you the latest drink you’d ordered. 
“No, I’m fine. It’s just…” You trailed off with a small sigh before taking a sip from the cold glass. “I did something stupid this past weekend and I regret it, but I also think it might have been the right thing to do.” You were unsure if you were referring to the kissing Steve part or the running away from him part. “I don’t know, I just wish that entire night hadn’t happened, actually.”
You knew that it wasn’t solely your inebriation that made your words seem as if they didn’t make any sense, because everything going through your head was so damn confusing even when you were completely sober. None of it, the emotions you were feeling or the situation itself, fully made sense to you and you forced yourself to not think about any of it by solely consuming yourself with your schoolwork for the last few days. And when doing that was no longer enough to silence your thoughts, you decided to come to this bar. 
It was dumb and probably only making things worse, you knew that, but it also felt so much easier. 
“Okay,” The woman said. “Can I have a lot more context?” 
You were unsure why you had the immediate urge to tell her everything. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps because it was just always so easy for anyone to pour their heart out to a stranger. 
“My friend— my best friend, we’ve known each other since we were ten— me and him were at a party. It was actually our other friend’s birthday and she just turned eighteen, so of course, we had to make it a huge thing for her, and we did it at Steve’s house; my best friend, that’s his name. Anyway, it’s about two hours into the party and we’re all pretty drunk. Me and Steve are in his backyard sitting on one of his old patio chairs, and then I don’t know why, I blame it on my drunkenness and how close we were in that moment, but I kissed him. I pulled away almost immediately, but then he said that he has wanted this, wanted us, to happen for so long, and I didn’t know what to say to any of that. So, I just mumbled out a stupid “I’m sorry,” and then left.”
You had barely taken a breath as you spoke, spitting out what happened that night in one rushed go. Finally saying all of it out loud— recounting the story in pretty much its entirety— made you feel a little better. Everything was still a complete mess, but you felt like you could breathe the tiniest bit easier. 
“Why did you leave?” 
A part of you expected her to ask that question, and at this point, you should’ve had an answer to it that felt certain, but you didn’t. 
“It just… It felt like the right thing to do, I think.” 
The thought of anything more happening with Steve hadn’t ever crossed your mind, at least not consciously, and even now you still refused to think more about it. Because it wasn't just about Steve. You didn’t want anything more with anyone; you didn’t want feelings, a relationship, any of it. 
It wasn’t that you hated love or the thought of it, it was more so that you had been burned because of it so many times that you refused to fall into it so easily again. Falling for boys that you thought actually liked you only to be proven wrong and left heartbroken. 
“I get it,” The bartender ultimately said, her voice soft. “You guys have been friends for practically forever and if you started dating and then broke up it would probably change everything between you two.” 
We would never break up. 
The thought hit you so abruptly that it actually managed to surprise you.  
The woman looked at you, confused. “Okay… So, then what’s the problem?”
“What?”
“You said that you and him would never break up, so what’s the problem?” 
You hadn’t realized you said the thought out loud, and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about accidentally saying it because all you could think about was how completely true it was. You and Steve would work so well together, you pretty much already did. You knew the ins and outs of each other; everything little that was annoying but also so endearing. It was what you loved about him— as a friend and as more.  
But still, it was so fucking hard to admit that out loud, and you wanted to forget about the entire realization.
“I– I don’t know,” You finally answered before folding your arms against the countertop and then putting your head down. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that that action would be enough to will away the tears that you could now feel threatening to spill out. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“and i ended up here. pouring out my heart to a stranger.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Hey, you okay?” 
The voice was soft and immediately comforting and oh so familiar. It was enough to put a smile on your face, but your head was starting to pound so you couldn’t bear to do anything but groan.  
You lifted your head and mumbled out a soft, “Steve?”
You only vaguely remembered the bartender, whose name you eventually learned was Chelsea, asking for a phone number of someone that could pick you up. And although you should’ve given her your roommate’s number, you instead gave her Steve’s. 
“I never thought I’d be the one picking you up from a bar,” Steve said as he sat down next to you. “I always thought it would be the other way around.”
“Y’know what they say about college, it changes people,” You told him with a nonchalant shrug. The two of you hadn’t talked in days, but it still felt like second nature to fall back into the joking cadence you had with him. “I’m a total badass now.”
Steve laughed a bit and looked at you amusingly. “Mhm, yeah, sure you are.”
You weren’t as drunk anymore but you were entering the early stages of a hangover that would be a bitch, and you already knew that there was no way you’d be going to your eleven o’clock Statistics class. 
“I can’t believe you drove two hours to pick me up,” You said as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car after you paid your pricey tab and goodbyes were said to Chelsea.  
Steve offered you a small smile. “What else are best friends for?”
You couldn’t help but look away from him as you mumbled out a soft, “I didn’t know we were still that.”
“We’ll always be that.” 
There was so much certainty in his voice that it actually managed to soothe something inside of you. Only for a second, though, because then you were back in your head again. 
The drive back to your dorm was quiet with only the soft sounds of the radio to fill the silence. It was a short ride, only about ten minutes, and the entire time you could only focus on your dull headache and what you wanted to say to Steve because you knew that you had to say something. Although you didn’t want to, that night needed to finally be talked about.
When he was parked in front of your building, you still didn’t know exactly what to say, but you decided to start with something. “Listen, about Robin’s party–” 
“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Let’s just pretend it never happened,” Steve interrupted you. He pushed a hand through his hair and then met your gaze. “It was really dumb of me to say all of that stuff, and I partially blame it on all the drinks we had— definitely way too many. We’re just friends, I know that. And your life is here now, for the most part, and mine is back in Hawkins, so yeah…” He trailed off with a small shrug. 
You suddenly felt nauseous and you knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He was saying everything that you fully thought you wanted to hear— what happened at the party should’ve never happened, you two were just friends— so why did it feel so wrong? 
Things became quiet and Steve was looking at you expectantly, and you were unsure how long you’d been silent for. 
“Um, yeah, exactly,” You finally said as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Before you opened the passenger door to leave his car, you reached over and pulled Steve in for a hug. “Drive safe.”
“Thanks,” He said as his arms circled around you. 
For some reason, there was a huge part of you that wanted to say “I’m sorry” in that moment, but you didn’t entirely know why, so instead you said nothing and simply got out of his car.
You headed to the entrance of your dorm building and then turned around, giving Steve a final wave before he drove away. 
It was then— as he headed down the street and after a few moments his car became completely out of your view— that you wished you’d been honest; with yourself and with him.  
Because it was in that moment of you yearning for him to turn around mixed with you sincerely wanting to go after him that essentially sealed it for you. 
Steve was different and he always would be. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“and maybe i don't quite know what to say, but i'm here in your doorway.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You felt slightly lucky that you only had two classes on Thursdays because when you woke up after sleeping through your Statistics class, you knew that you wouldn’t be going to your Psychology class that started at three. And the reasoning actually had nothing to do with your hangover. 
Aside from the slight headache, you woke up with your mind feeling completely clear for the first time in a long time. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you wanted to do, and before that feeling could go away, or you could convince yourself to push it away, you were in your car an hour before your class was supposed to start and driving to Hawkins. You were pretty much running off of impulse and hope.
The weather was terrible and you hated driving in the rain, but it didn’t matter to you right then because you needed to see Steve.
You had two long hours of driving in terrible rain to figure out what exactly you wanted to say to him, yet you still couldn’t form a coherent set of sentences in your head. But, similar to the rain, that didn’t stop you from ringing his doorbell. 
In hindsight, it probably would’ve been smart to bring an umbrella because it was still pouring and from the short walk from your car to his front door, your clothes managed to become effectively soaked, but it didn’t bother you. 
“Hey,” He said when he opened the door, it was easy to tell that he was surprised to see you. “Did you drive all the way here?”
You quickly nodded at his question. “Yes.”
“You hate driving in rain.” 
“Yeah, but I… I just really wanted to talk to you, and didn’t wanna do it over the phone.”
“Come inside,” Steve said, pushing the door open wider so that you could step in. 
You almost followed him but then stopped. “No, wait… I kinda just wanna say this here.” 
Steve looked at you confused, but ultimately nodded. “Okay.” He then stepped out of his house and closed the door behind him; his clothes immediately got wet. “It feels wrong that you’re the only one getting hit by the rain.” 
You laughed a bit. “Thank you. That’s very considerate.”  
Things got quiet for a second and you suddenly felt nervous, but you pushed that feeling to the side.
“I know you said that we don’t need to talk about the party and we should pretend that it never happened. And although that’s exactly what I’d been doing for the past few days, I don’t wanna do that anymore.” It actually didn’t feel too hard to let all of this out; verbalizing exactly what had been going on in your head. In a way, it felt like a relief. “I think I kissed you that night because deep down I know that it’s you too. And that it’s always been you… Which is actually so scary to think about because we’ve known each other for so long and you’re the one person in my life that has been the biggest constant. You’ve seen every part of my very horrific love life and I don’t want us to end up like any of the stupid relationships I had before, and I think that’s why I ran away that night, which I do really regret.” You pulled your eyes away from his for a second. “But, what we have is different, and I want to try. I want us to try.”
You let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s it.”  
Steve didn’t say anything for a few moments, and it was then that you realized how loud the rain was, and somehow it was actually a bit calming to hear the sounds of the heavy drops hitting the ground. 
You searched his eyes to see if you could decipher what he was thinking, but before you could get a clear read on anything, he was closing the small bit of distance between you both and reaching up to cup your face in his hands before leaning in to kiss you. 
The abruptness of the action slightly startled you, but you were completely okay with this nonverbal response to you pouring your heart out. You were kissing him back almost immediately and suddenly the sound of the rain was gone and instead all you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
The kiss felt perfectly new but also so insanely familiar; even though this was the first time this was happening sober. And so many things were running through your mind, but it was also effectively blank and you knew you wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence even if you tried. 
Most of all, though, everything happening right then— the way your hands fisted themselves in his rain soaked t-shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you, and how his thumb stroked your cheek so tenderly— it all felt so certain and sure and right; there wasn’t an ounce of doubt lingering in the air around you both or lacing its way within the kiss. 
When you pulled away to catch your breath and smiled up at him, a smile that Steve immediately matched with an elated grin of his own, it slightly killed you that all of this hadn't happened sooner.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“i just wanted you to know that this is me trying.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
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