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#no hate toward this man will be tolerated >:(
gn4wz-0n-b0n3z · 10 months
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Big Jim fans i wish you prosperity and Big Jim haters you don't get anything sorry
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inkskinned · 7 months
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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tender-rosiey · 4 months
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i need more dad!gojo pls 😔🙏🏼
sulking — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: there was an anon that requested this scenario specifically but for some reason I genuinely can't find their ask so anon if you see this, i hope you will like it! <3
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“s/n! get your tiny naked butt over here!”
your son squeals as he waddles away from his chasing dad and goes towards you, “mama!”
“yes, honey?” you reply, before turning towards your son and finding him all naked. at least, he didn’t escape from the tub, since he is still dry.
you giggle and pick him up, “what are you doing you little trouble maker?”
he kicks his feet and points upstairs, “pa!”
“oh, you’re escaping from papa?”
your son nods eagerly, looking around for any sign of said man.
“found you!”
your son squeals and hides his face in the crook of your neck. you pet his hair and look towards your husband who is…also butt-naked. you sigh, “satoru, at least wear your boxers before you chase the kid.”
“aw come on, wifey; it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he smirks, leaning towards you and lovingly kissing your cheek, “plus you deserve a show every once in a while.”
you pinch his nose, making him abruptly pull back with a pout, “if you want to give me a show, don’t do it in front of our son, you over-grown pack of hershey’s.”
“do you mean the cookies and cream one?” satoru says, eyes shining at the mention of one of his favorite snacks.
“yes, and I hate it.”
he gasps audibly, before taking s/n from your arms and into his own, “let’s go, s/n! we shall not tolerate mom’s slander for the hershey’s again!”
and so your husband marches back with his (still butt-naked) son to the bathroom.
satoru sets s/n on the sink, and looks down at the tub, “hey, at least the bathtub is full now,” he puts his hand in the water, “and it isn’t too cold for your small butt.”
s/n gives satoru his angriest look, before looking away with a huff.
satoru chuckles before tickling him, “you’re so cute,” s/n breaks character and starts giggling, and satoru starts cooing, “you act like your mama when I annoy her.”
satoru swiftly picks him up in one arm and points at the stash of bath bombs, “which one do you want to use?” he walks towards the box, and s/n instantly holds it with his strong hands.
satoru laughs, “oh you want all?”
s/n doesn’t respond. instead, he aggressively pulls the box towards him, luckily, satoru is able to hold it in his other hand before it fell.
he looks at his son with a pout, “you were going to create a mess, little guy.”
“mess!” your son claps and your husband can’t find it in him to scold him.
so your husband joins in on his chaos and raises him up high, “yes, big mess!”
your son squeals, reaching for his dad’s cheeks. then he starts rubbing his face on satoru’s the moment he is low enough to reach him.
he starts biting satoru’s cheeks and screams, “love you, baby!”
“love you too, my little buttered cookie,” satoru coos, unfazed by the baby eating him alive. he doesn’t let him linger though as he pulls him off his face, “time for a bath, stinky.”
s/n frowns and tries smacking satoru, but your husband quickly gets into the bath. the moment s/n touched the water, he started clapping and trying to dive deeper into the water.
satoru held him just above the water so he doesn’t fall into the bathbomb-filled water, “nuh-uh, you’re not going to fall face first into the water,” satoru spins s/n so he can settle him into the bath butt-first.
s/n wastes no time in playing with the soap foam and starts splashing everywhere.
your son is sat on the stair of the bathtub—a huge bathtub by the way, satoru specifically ordered this one for other activities though. s/n is beyond the moon and almost treats the little stair like his throne.
your husband can’t stop smiling, to the point his face starts aching, and he starts using the bubbles to form two little cat ears on s/n’s head.
your son’s curiously keeps trying to look up, but starts huffing when he can’t see the top of his head.
satoru then decides that the best solution is—“y/nnnnn! can you come over here with a camera?”
“okayyyy!” he hears you yell and shifts his attention to s/n to keep him entertained until you appear.
he leans down a little, exposing the top of his own head to his son and challenges him, “do your worst.”
your son’s—clearly inherited—competitive nature fuels him into gathering as much as bubbles as he can to place it on his dad’s head.
after that, he starts diligently molding the foam into the shape he had in mind. satoru just keeps on humming quietly, letting s/n do his magic.
once s/n finishes, he retracts his hand and clumsily mimics his dad’s proud pose, and satoru feels happier and happier as he spends time of his little ball of joy.
caught up in his emotions, he picks up s/n to hug him, but s/n slips from satoru’s grasp and into the water.
your husband is panicked right away, hands frantically searching and splashing around to get hold onto anything of his son.
he has half a mind to blast all the water away, but quickly decides against it, especially when he hears a “boo!” behind him.
your husband turns to s/n, who is giggling at finally getting to his father, and hugs him tightly, “papa’s sorry he dropped you, s/n.”
s/n, ever the empath, starts imitating what he see you and satoru do when the other is sad: he starts patting his dad’s back with a murmur of “’s ‘kay.”
satoru thinks he is going to sob right then and there, but you finally enter the bathroom, and satoru and s/n quickly perk up at your presence.
“mama!”
“wifey!” satoru grins and starts scrambling to make a new pair of cat ears on s/n.
and so you’re met with one of the cutest sights of your baby that you have ever seen. he is beaming with a smile so contagious that you don’t even notice one being instantly on your face.
he is also sporting a pair of bubble cat ears, so, of course, you get out your phone and start snapping away.
“s/n, look at mama!”
“yay!”
after a couple of photos, you hear someone clear his throat, and you look to your side to see a very pouty satoru. he huffs and looks away from you, “imagine ignoring the love of your life for a small mochi.”
“we made this small mochi, ‘toru.”
“exactly!” he declares then locks eyes with you, “that means I am the original and I should be appreciated more, anyway—what do you think of his cat ears?”
your husband’s tone switches almost instantly and starts fangirling about s/n, taking him into his arms and lightly bouncing him on knee, “he is so cute! almost as cute as me, right?!”
“you’re so right! he is the cutest cutie to ever exist!” you coo, arms reaching out to s/n, and your son throws himself into your arms with no hesitation.
you secure in your hold before chuckling, “you’re mama’s cute boy, right?”
you feel satoru stare daggers at your soul, but ignore him for the time being, “did you actually shower or do anything to clean, s/n? you smell stinky.”
your son frowns at that and buries his face in your shoulder to sulk. you stifle a giggle and question your husband about something that has been on your mind since you entered, “also, satoru—“
he perks up.
“—what is that blob of bubbles on your head supposed to be?”
and that, my friend, is how you got stuck in the bathtub with your two boys, each burying their face into your shoulders and—you guessed it—sulking.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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lady-raziel · 8 days
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idk man i know times are hard but i can't help but feel that watcher putting all their eggs in the basket that is their own streaming service is a bad call. like sure i totally get wanting a platform where you have full control both creatively and financially but i feel they might be misjudging how much loyalty non-hardcore fans might have for what they're creating. in every internet fandom there's a subsection of people willing to pay with actual money to support the creators they enjoy, and that's what services like patreon are for. but to expect that casual viewers will sign up and pay a monthly fee to get access to just watcher content when a large portion of them were likely just watching the content because it was free and accessible on youtube assumes that someone who isn't a diehard fan won't just go "oh well" and find something else on youtube that IS still free? that seems like a miscalculation to me. the massive fanbases online content creators have may literally be only possible because the content is available to anyone-- it seems foolish to assume that every single one of those fans is going to stick around once you try to upsell them.
i hope this new venture goes well for the watcher crew. I really do. but i also know that a lot of brands and startups that bank on the loyalty they earned when their product was free or low cost and expect that to sustain them while they try to do something that historically has not gone well for the vast majority of businesses. at best, they'll have halved their fanbase by alienating those who can't or don't want to pay and made it much more difficult for remaining fans to create fandom products like memes or gifs that promote their shows on social media. at worst, they'll discover in the near future the independent streaming service model is unsustainable with only the fans they have left and by that point they'll have already deleted themselves from youtube and made it impossible to come back to the level of success they had before. any attempt to return to youtube will be an admission of a critical miscalculation and i doubt many remaining fans will tolerate the back and forth. they'll have crippled their credibility, relevancy, and fanbase loyalty over a very short period of time-- and i don't know if it would even be possible to come back and still be beloved after all that.
worst of all-- if the watcher streaming service crashes and burns after they've already removed all their content from youtube, all the watcher shows are essentially going to become lost media, only accessible via reuploaders willing to risk a copy strike or if you know someone who has a copy downloaded. given how genuinely good the watcher content is in the sea of lackluster youtube mush, that really seems like a damn shame.
i hope the watcher team sees how everyone is responding and decides to course correct before it's too late and get away with only the hit to their reputation that they've already taken by announcing this, instead of pushing forward on a path that might lose them everything instead. nothing i've said here is with any hate intended toward anyone involved or those who are excited about the new service, but this just seems like a really ill-advised decision to me.
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andvys · 11 months
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It's just us | S.H.
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Warnings: 18+, angst, cheating (reader and Steve get cheated on by their partners), heartbreak, betrayal, enemies to lovers, King!Steve, smut, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, r and Steve are both over the age of 18, mentions of reader having nipple piercings
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: You and Steve hated each other from the first moment you met but when you get betrayed by the people you love the most, all you have is each other.
Word count: 8k+
Author's note: I was really fucking close to making this an Eddie fic or at least a Steddie fic cause Eddie Munson owns me but this one is for my Steve girlies and for the ones who asked me to write for him before so here ya go. And I'm back to focusing on my one and only
stranger things masterlist
part two (steddie x reader)
-
There was one person that you hated more than anything, Steve Harrington. From the first moment you have laid your eyes on him, you just couldn’t stand him. You hated his cocky and arrogant personality, his perfect reputation, how sure of himself he always was. You hated King Steve, you hated the way he looked at you, you hated the way he used every opportunity to piss you off, he said things that he knew would get under your skin. 
He hated you too, he hated how loved you were, he hated how popular you were. Both of you rivaled each other, he was the captain of the basketball team and you were the head cheerleader. In a perfect world, you would be together and people would call you a dream couple but instead you two hated each other’s guts. 
You threw nasty words at each other, bickering every time you were around each other. You avoided him as much as he avoided you and for a while it worked until he started dating your best friend, Nancy. 
Over were the peaceful lunch breaks at the cafeteria where you would only sit with her and your boyfriend. Steve started tagging along with her, greeting you with cocky grins and mocking waves whenever he would sit down opposite of you. 
Not only were you forced to spend every lunch break with him, you also had to tolerate him during movie nights, parties and even worse, double dates. 
You hated him more and more. 
You thought that your boyfriend would take your side, joining in on the Steve Harrington hate train but oddly enough, they became friends. 
Months went by and you had hoped that Nancy would realize what a douchebag King Steve is, leave his ass in the dust and find another boyfriend but she seemed happy and he did too. 
Nancy and Steve were happy. 
Jonathan and Steve got along. 
Everyone got along, except for you and him. You hated him but god, you grew to love the fights and the bickering, you found entertainment in them. You loved pissing him off, loved teasing him, loved throwing mean words at him even when you knew that he would do the same and say something hurtful in return. 
Yes, Steve Harrington got under your skin but you got under his too. It was clear, the way his cheeks turned red and his eyes flashed with anger, he would clench his jaw and his fists before he’d turn away from you. 
“Tina is throwing a party this friday, are we going?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend and your best friend. 
“Of course, we’re going,” Steve says. 
You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him, “I wasn’t talking to you, Harrington.” 
Jonathan sighs, mumbling your name in annoyance. 
You ignored him, continuing to look into hazel eyes with a challenging look on your face. 
“Bitch,” Steve mumbles. 
“Steve!” Nancy exclaims, turning towards her boyfriend with wide eyes, “that wasn’t nice.” 
“Aw,” he shrugs, throwing his arm around her shoulder, he turns back to you, giving you a small smirk, “I’m sorry, queen y/n.” 
You scrunch your face up in annoyance, he knows you hate when people call you that. 
Rolling your eyes, you reach for the fries on your boyfriend’s plate, throwing some at the man in front of you, “shut up, asshole.” 
He dodges the fries, laughing when they hit some kid behind him. 
“Are you gonna wear one of those ugly leather jackets again?” He asks you, “they make you look cheap, y/n.” 
A laugh falls from your lips, you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, “at least I don’t let my mom buy my clothes,” you say as your eyes trail down his shirt, “seriously, have you ever stepped foot inside a store yourself? Your mommy still dresses you up like you’re some innocent little virgin.” 
His smile falls and he scoffs at you, “I’m not a virgin.” 
“I know, you’re a whore in virgin’s clothes.” 
He raises his eyebrows at you, “seriously?” He snorts, “you wanna call me a whore now?” 
You are both so caught up in each other, you don’t notice the stolen glances between your boyfriend and his girlfriend, the longing gazes, the forbidden touches between the table as they reach for the other’s hand. 
If you paid more attention, you would have noticed it a long time ago already but you were focused on other things. 
Jonathan was a loving and sweet boyfriend, you had no reason not to trust him. 
If you would’ve just known.. 
“Are we gonna go to the movies tonight?” You ask as you finally turn away from Steve and look at your boyfriend, smiling at him, you’re unable to see the guilt in his eyes. 
He blinks, coughing nervously. 
Nancy looks down at her food tray, pushing around the salad she hasn’t touched, her cheeks are red, her brows are furrowed. 
You don’t notice how weird they are both being but Steve does, it is something he hasn’t noticed before but feels like it’s always been there, the tension in Jonathan’s shoulders, the distant look in his eyes, the furrowed brows as he looks down at you. 
“Uh, shit, I-I no, I forgot to tell you, I’m taking Will to the record store tonight and he asked for a movie night,” he explains. 
Steve expects you to frown at his words, sigh sadly and mumble a quiet ‘oh’ but instead your eyes light up and you grab Jonathan’s shoulder, “oh! Can I come with you?” You ask excitedly. Steve might not know much about you except for the very obvious things but he knows how much you love spending time with Will.
“We just wanna have a boys night, next time, alright?” 
Now your smile falls, only for just a second but Steve sees it, he sees the disappointment in your eyes, the one you quickly mask with a pretentious smile, “oh that’s fine, umm I hope you’re going to have lots of fun,” you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek, he gives you a smile, one that doesn’t even reach his eyes. You lay your head on his shoulder, linking your arm with him. 
A weird feeling settles in the pit of Steve’s stomach, he leans back and stares at the man in front of him, he sees the way his eyes meet Nancy’s blue ones, it just for a split second but he sees it. 
A few months ago, he wouldn’t question it. He never had a problem with their friendship, Jonathan was her friend before he became her boyfriend and you never had a problem with their friendship either, you trusted them. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have. 
Steve doesn’t know why but he can’t shake the feeling that something is off, that things have been off for a long time now. He tells himself that he is overthinking things, that he lets his anxious thoughts get the best of him but they had only gotten worse when Nancy canceled their date after he had dropped her off at home, he was excited to take her out, he had it all planned, he would take her to dinner and movies and afterwards they’d watch the stars at lovers lake but instead he was left in the cold after she told him that she couldn’t go out with him because she had to help Mike with his homework. Mike, who was here at Benny’s diner with Will, Dustin and Lucas. 
“What the fuck,” he mumbles as he stands there, staring at them with a dumbfound expression on his face. 
Mike was clearly not in need of help for his homework and Will didn’t seem to have plans for a movie night any time soon. Someone drove them here but it wasn’t Jonathan, no, it was Eddie Munson who jumped into the empty seat next to Dustin as he held some book in his hand. 
Slowly he started piecing everything together and as he thought of all the times Nancy had canceled their dates at the same time as Jonathan had canceled yours, his stomach dropped. Those weird looks both of them shared earlier today just added to his worry. 
He forgot about the order he had placed and rushed out of the diner, ignoring the waitress who called for him when she held the bag and a drink in her hand. His mind was running wild as the worst scenarios rushed through his thoughts. 
He doesn’t even remember how he got into the car or how he drove all the way to the Wheeler’s house. His heart was racing and his hands were clenched into fists, he was nervous and the anger inside of him was already building up. 
He had suspicions but he didn’t want to dwell on them, not yet. But when he climbed up the wall to his girlfriend’s window, hoping to find her studying or listening to music, he didn’t find her doing any of those things. Instead, he caught her having sex with your boyfriend. 
He grips the wall tighter when he almost loses his footing. He can’t even stop the gasp from escaping as his eyes widen. 
His girlfriend is having sex with your boyfriend. 
Nancy is fucking Jonathan, Nancy who is your best friend.
He stares in shock, frozen in place and with a broken heart he stares at them. Jonathan’s hands are on her waist, gripping her tightly as she bounces on his cock. She bites her lip to stay quiet. 
The bile rises in his throat, he feels sick, he feels betrayed and angry. 
He turns away and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before he jumps down into the grass. He almost throws up into Karen’s beloved flowers but he holds himself together, at least for now. 
Tears brim in his eyes, he doesn’t understand. 
Why would she do this to him? 
Why would she hurt him like this? 
Why would she cheat on him? 
Why would she do this to you? 
You have always been her best friend, you grew up together, your mom’s are best friends. You have always been by her side, you have done everything for her. You could’ve chosen other friends, you could’ve been friends with other popular girls like Chrissy Cunningham but no, you stayed friends with Nancy. 
And Jonathan… Now, Steve had become friends with him when he started dating her and thought that Jonathan was actually a pretty decent guy but before that, he had always wondered why you even gave him the time of your day. You are the popular and annoyingly happy cheerleader and he is just, well, he is Jonathan. The boring freak. But then again, rumor has it that you have always liked to associate with men who weren’t anywhere near your league and apparently you liked to fuck freaks, that’s something that Steve could never believe. You were a good girl, you had that innocence in your eyes that told him that rumors were just rumors. 
For some time, Steve thought that you were playing a prank on Jonathan, that you dated him for a bet but when a year had passed and you still looked at him with those stupid heart eyes, he knew you were serious about him. 
Now he feels like throwing up, he isn’t just angry for himself, he is also angry for you. If the betrayal hurt him so much, what would it do to you? 
The moment he steps into his bathroom, he drops to his knees and pukes his lunch out. 
God, he has never felt this sick in his life before. How will he ever move on from this? 
He loves her with all his heart but he is so incredibly angry and hurt. He spends the rest of the night crying, unable to catch a moment of peace. He stares at the ceiling as he lays in his lonely bed, tears stream down his face as his mind replays the horrible things he had seen. 
What should he do? 
Should he confront them? Should he break up with her? Should he make a scene and humiliate them in front of the whole school? No, he is not like that and he wouldn’t do this to you. 
He doesn’t know what to do. So he pretends that everything is fine. 
He takes a shower, styles his hair and picks out an outfit that you won’t tease him for. He drinks his coffee and then he picks up Nancy but the moment he lays his eyes on her and she gives him that cheerful smile and kiss on the lips, he feels himself growing sick again. How could she pretend that nothing happened? How could she kiss him like this when her lips touched his last night?
The anger diminished a little only to rush back even more intensely when he was forced to greet Jonathan at school. God, he wants to punch him so hard, he has to restrain himself from doing so. Especially when he lays eyes on you. A big smile is resting on your face, your eyes are shining with happiness, your perfect ponytail is bouncing as you rush through the hallways with your pretty little cheerleader uniform. You wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s waist and lay your head on his back, “hi babe, I missed you so much last night.” 
“I missed you too, y/n,” Jonathan says as he smiles, placing his hand over yours. 
Steve grows hatred for the man and for his girlfriend when he feels her squeezing his hand. 
He can’t even stop the scoff before it falls from his lips, causing all three of you to look at him in confusion. 
“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks, feigning concern. 
He nods. 
You raise your eyebrows at him, a cocky smirk tugging at your lips, “ooh, did someone had a rough night?” 
Yes and you’d be having one too if you knew that your boyfriend was buried in my girlfriend last night, Steve thinks to himself. 
He doesn’t say anything, instead he shuts his locker and turns away from the three of you, “I gotta go to class,” he mumbles without giving Nancy a goodbye kiss or Jonathan a pat on the back the way he always does. He bumps into someone, not bothering to apologize, he grumpily mutters something under his breath. 
“Who pissed in his coffee this morning?” You chuckle, missing the way Nancy and Jonathan looked at each other. 
“I- he probably got into a fight with his dad again,” Nancy says, shrugging nervously. 
You step away from Jonathan, walking towards your best friend, you take her hand in yours, “is everything alright between the two of you?” 
She blinks, looking over your shoulder and back to you, she nods, “y-yeah, totally,” she smiles, shaking her head. 
“Okay, good,” you smile, squeezing her hand, “but I’m always here for you and you can talk to me, okay?” 
She looks down, nodding at your words, “yeah, I know.” 
“Alright, well, I think we should go shopping after school, I need some new party outfits.” 
“Oh, I-I can’t, y/n. I already have an outfit and I was supposed to look after Holly today.” 
You frown at her words, a sad look flashes in her eyes.
“You are a busy girl, Nancy Wheeler.”
-
Steve was being weird, well, he was always being weird but something about him today was just off. Not only did he pay no mind to you, he also ignored Jonathan and Nancy. 
No comments were thrown your way today, no mean words, no remarks, he didn’t tease you or even glare at you. Nothing. You saw him talking to Robin Buckley when you were on your way to the bathroom. He looked like was on the verge of tears and the girl comforted him with a hand on his shoulder and words you couldn’t make out. 
Seeing him like this makes you feel weird, you don’t really care about him but you care about your friend and there’s clearly something going on between them and you are certain about that when you sit down beside Jonathan in the cafeteria. Just like yesterday, you sit across from Steve but instead of meeting his teasing eyes, you meet his angry ones, though you feel that the anger isn’t directed at you but at someone else. 
You try to ignore him and the way his gaze seems to be getting more and more intense. He watches you and Jonathan, a frown deep in his features as he watches how your boyfriend kisses you like nothing ever happened. 
You don’t know. 
You don’t know what he is doing behind your back. 
You don’t know that he is hurting you, that he is cheating on you with your best friend. 
How long have they been going behind your backs? 
Has this been happening when you were all together at parties? When you went to the lakehouse his dad owns? God, he could scream and expose their disgusting secrets to the whole school. 
“Aren’t you hungry?” Nancy asks as she puts her hand on Steve’s thigh. He tenses up, clenching his jaw as he turns to look at her. 
“No, I’m not hungry, Nancy.” 
Your eyes flash with surprise, the tone in his voice was filled with anger. 
She looks taken aback, furrowing her brows at her boyfriend’s behavior, “you barely touched your food–” 
“I said I’m not hungry!” He snaps at her. 
Before any of you can even react, he gets up and storms out of the cafeteria, not caring about the prying eyes of the other students. 
You frown at his behavior, growing angry when you see the tears in Nancy’s eyes. 
“That asshole,” you mumble, getting up, you follow him out, ignoring Jonathan’s and Nancy’s calls. 
You slam the doors to the hallway open, rushing towards him with anger in your bones. 
“Steve!” 
He keeps walking, ignoring you. 
“Hey!” 
He abruptly turns around, throwing his hands up, he sighs, “what!?” 
“What?” You scoff, “what the fuck was that? Why are you being so mean?” 
He laughs at your words, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. 
“She didn’t do anything to you, Steve.” 
“If only you knew.” 
Something about the way he said it and looked at you, sent shivers down your spine. 
Instead of the usual hatred and anger you see in his eyes, you find empathy in them. Why? It makes you nervous. 
“W-What do you mean?” You ask. 
Steve knows that you won’t believe him, you gotta see it with your own eyes, you don’t deserve this. You love Jonathan, you have always been good to him. You deserve better and he knows he does too. 
“Steve,” you mumble, “what do you mean?” 
You have got to know. You’re a smart girl, you should’ve noticed the way your best friend and boyfriend behaved around you, the way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other. 
Right now, he doesn’t hate you, he just feels sorry for you. 
“Go to Nancy’s house this afternoon.” 
“No, she– Steve!” 
He walks away before giving you an explanation, leaving you standing there like a fool. 
What is this about? 
Usually, you would never listen to him, you wouldn’t do what he had told you to do. You wouldn’t go to Nancy’s house if you didn’t have your own suspicions already, the ones that made you feel sick for the longest time. 
His seriousness and his anger is what made you feel scared. 
He wasn’t mean to you today, he didn’t even glare at you, that’s how you knew that something was very off. 
So you listened to him, you went to Nancy’s house. You didn’t want to but on the way home from the mall, you drove by her house and found Jonathan’s car in the driveway. 
Nothing weird about it right? They are friends, they are allowed to be friends. 
Yet, you can’t shake that awful feeling that something horrible is about to happen. So you park the car and make your way inside her house, using the spare key that she gave you years ago. 
The house is empty, Karen isn’t there and neither is Ted. Holly and Mike are nowhere to be seen. You don’t call out for Nancy the way you usually would. With a nervous sigh, you grip the keys tighter in your hand and climb up the stairs. 
You hear music coming from her room, The Cure. Nancy doesn’t listen to The Cure but your boyfriend does. You hear the noises, you hear them. 
With a shaky hand, you open the door and as you lay eyes on the two of them, your heart drops and a gasp falls from your lips as you raise your hand to cup your mouth. 
There he is, your boyfriend, shoving his tongue down your best friend’s throat. Both of them are half naked, her chest is covered in hickeys already, his hair is a mess, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths as she moves her hand into his pants. 
“What the fuck?” 
They jump apart when they hear your voice, staring at each other like deers caught in headlights before they look at you. 
Her blue eyes widen as do his. 
No longer do their cheeks glow red, instead they look pale when they see you standing there with tears in your eyes and anger on your face. 
“Fuck– y/n!” He scrambles to his feet, trying to find his shirt. 
Nancy looks away from you, crossing her arms over her chest, she suddenly feels too ashamed to meet your eyes. 
“You are fucking disgusting,” you mumble angrily, ignoring the heartbreak in your chest or the feeling of your throat getting tighter. The tears begin to spill and you look between them in shock. 
Jonathan takes a step towards you. 
“Don’t come anywhere near me, Byers. We’re fucking over!” 
His eyes widen, his lips part as he tries to speak but no words leave his mouth. 
“And you, fuck you, Nancy.” 
You don’t care to look back at them, rushing out of the house as quickly as you came. You wipe away the angry tears, biting down on your quivering lip as you get back in your car. 
You knew it. You’re no fool. You knew it. You just made yourself believe that you didn’t but deep down you always knew. Who were you trying to fool? It was so clear. 
Can you even feel heartbroken? You set yourself up for it when you started dating the guy who always saw her. 
-
Maybe Steve should’ve told you, maybe he shouldn’t have told you to go to her place, maybe he should’ve protected you from seeing that. But did he have a choice? You hate him, you wouldn’t have believed him, you would’ve scoffed at him and laughed in his face. 
But still, he should’ve told you. 
He shouldn’t have let you see that. 
Now he feels guilty for it, despite the ache in his chest and the betrayal he still tries to deal with, he feels guilty for not telling you. 
You are pretending to be fine when you’re not. 
You didn’t come to school on Wednesday, Thursday or today but here you are at Tina’s party, dressed in the skimpiest outfit you could find, throwing back one drink after the other, yet you don’t seem to be getting drunk but it’s only as he notices you pouring yourself coke instead of alcohol that he realizes you aren’t here to get drunk. 
You are here because you don’t want to be alone, just like him. He had a feeling that you would come, that was another reason why he came. 
The loud music is hurting his ears and the whiskey is starting to give him a headache. He places his drink on a small table. Running his hand through his messy hair, he pushes past a group of girls who begin to whisper behind his back. Nancy’s and Jonathan’s name falling from their lips. He decides to ignore it. 
His focus is on something else, you. You’re standing by the punch with Heather Holloway, giggling about something she had whispered in your ear. 
Should he talk to you? 
You down the rest of your drink and place the cup on the counter, gesturing to the stairs as you leave your friend. He decides to follow you and calls your name. 
You turn around, smile disappearing from your face when your eyes lock with his, an eye roll and a scoff is all he gets. 
He rolls his eyes too, what else did he expect, a hug? 
“Can we talk?” He has to yell for you to understand him. 
You only shake your head and continue your way up the stairs. 
“Please?” 
Once you stop in front of a door, you turn around and look up at him, “no.” You slam the door in his face, causing him to sigh. 
He leans against the wall, deciding to wait for you. 
What does he even want to say to you? Does he even want to say anything to you? 
When you walk back out, he doesn’t even give you a chance, he takes your hand in his, ignoring your protests or your light slap to his back. 
“Let go of me, Harrington!” 
“Nope,” he mumbles as he pulls you into an empty and dark room, he pushes against the wall before he turns to close and lock the door, leaving you in complete darkness. 
“What the hell do you want from me?” 
Steve frowns. 
“Shit, hold on,” he mumbles, “I can’t find the light switch.” 
“Seriously?” 
You can hear him moving around, cursing under his breath. Maybe it would’ve been funny under different circumstances, if you were locked in a room with someone other than King Steve. 
“Got it,” he mumbles as he turns on the lights. 
Your arms are crossed and a frown is on your face, lips set in a pout. 
“I uh– I heard you broke up with Jonathan?” 
You squint your eyes, “that’s what you wanna talk about? What the fuck do you really want?” 
“I should’ve told you, I shouldn’t have sent you there,” he admits in guilt, giving you a sad look. 
You scoff at his words, rolling your eyes, “yeah right, you want me to believe that, Steve?” 
“It’s the truth, I’m very sorry,” he says, “about everything. You don’t deserve this, they’re fucking assholes for doing– for you know–”
“For cheating on us?” 
He glances at you and for the first time he sees something other than hatred, empathy, you feel for him just like he feels for you but it’s obvious that you still don’t like him. 
“I-I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you,” he mumbles, “she’s been your best friend since you were kids and he–”
“Fuck them both,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. 
You are in denial about your feelings, pretending to be fine so you don’t have to confront your pain. He can see it in your eyes though, the pain they left behind. 
“When did you find out?” You ask. 
“The day before you did. I went to the diner and saw Will and Mike there and I knew that they both lied, I went to her house and.. yeah.” He can’t bring himself to say it, he doesn’t have to. You know it. 
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” 
He looks confused almost, shaking his head slightly, “you wouldn’t have believed me?” 
“You expect me to believe that that’s the reason why you didn’t just tell me?” 
“That is the reason!” 
You walk closer to him as tears well up in your eyes, “fuck you, Steve Harrington! Fuck you. You sent me there to taunt me! I know you caught them and you wanted me to catch them too, you wanted me to feel what you felt, you wanted me to suffer, you’re a fucking dick, Steve! I hate you!” 
His eyes flash with anger, he scoffs at you, clenching his jaw. 
“Go on, let it all out.” He nods. 
He might not know as well as your friends do but he can tell that you were pushing the pain back, you refused to cry over a man who cheated on you and over a best friend who betrayed you in the most hurtful way. 
You are dealing with your emotions by using him as a punching bag and he doesn’t like it, so he decides to do something else. 
“Y-You are such a–” He cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips against yours, he kisses you roughly. 
Your eyes widen and you squeal in surprise. 
What the fuck? 
Steve Harrington is kissing you. 
He is kissing you and you fucking like it. Your life couldn’t have been more of a mess. First your boyfriend cheats on you with your best friend that he dated and now he is kissing you. He is supposed to hate you, he is supposed to be horrible to you but instead he is kissing you in a way you have never been kissed before. 
Fuck it. 
His lips tastes like cheery coke and he smells so fucking good. 
You throw your arms around his shoulders and close your eyes as you kiss him back. He moans against you, the sound shoots straight to your core. You move your hand into his hair, gripping it and pulling his perfectly styled hair. 
His hands slide down to your waist and he pushes you further into the room without breaking the kiss that grows heavier by the second. He grabs your ass, squeezing it tightly with his large hands, earning a moan from you. Steve smirks against your lips as he presses himself against you. 
“S-Steve,” you whimper as you break the kiss, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You ask the man you are supposed to hate. 
He presses another kiss to your lips before he pulls away, staring at you with his hazel eyes that hold both pain and anger, “why do they get to have all the fun?” 
You swallow nervously, you hate him, you hate him so much and yet you find yourself longing for him, for his touch, for his lips. 
He leans in again but you push him back weakly. 
“No,” you whisper, “I hate you.” 
“Yeah?” He rasps against your lips, “feeling’s mutual, honey. That’s okay, we don’t have to like each other, right?”
You blink, shrugging, your eyes flicker down to his lips, “I-I guess not.” 
“You can mark me up, show her who fucked me,” he tells you as he pushes you down onto the soft bed, playing with the hem of your skirt, “you can let your anger out on me, I don’t mind.” 
“You really wanna fuck me?” You ask as you chase after his lips, kissing them almost a little too softly. 
“Fuck yes, I do,” he murmurs as he latches his lips onto your neck, spreading your legs so he can settle in between them, “I wanna rip your skimpy little clothes off, make you scream my name.”
His lips are soft yet rough as he marks your neck, he sucks and bites on your skin, squeezing your waist tightly with his hands as he grinds his clothed dick against your aching cunt. 
“What makes you think that I’ll scream your name?” You ask, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows as you moan at the feeling of him. God, you can already tell that he is big.
“You will moan my name.” 
“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he says in a way that sends shivers down your spine, your pussy clenches around nothing. 
“Do it then because he never could.” 
A smirk grows on his face. 
“You wanna fuck me to get back at him?” You ask, “do it then.” 
Before you know it, he rips your top off, throwing it over his shoulder before your bra joins it on the floor. Lust fills his eyes and his cheeks flush red when he sees your nipple piercings, “holy fuck,” he mumbles, staring at you with a dumbfound expression as he grabs your boobs, touching your sensitive nipples with his fingers, “shit… the good little cheerleader has her nipples pierced?” 
You look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes, moaning as he continues to roll your nipples. You grab his hand, bringing it up to your face, you wrap your lips around his thumb and begin to suck on it. 
His eyes widen yet again, pants growing tighter as his cock hardens in his tight jeans.
“Fuck, you’re a little freak aren’t you?” He smirks darkly, “Byers couldn’t handle all of that, huh? Guess he wasn’t the freak after all, it was you.” 
He really couldn’t. It was only ever lazy sex with him, sloppy blowjobs and making love. You didn’t want to make love, you wanted to be fucked like a whore. 
You shake your head at him and spread your legs, letting your skirt slide up. 
“Shut up and fuck me before I find someone else.” 
“Shit,” he mumbles as his eyes fall on your lacy red underwear, your already soaked underwear, it makes his dick twitch in his pants. 
“You shut up, princess. I’m not letting anyone fuck you, you’re mine tonight.” 
He drops to his knees in front of you, grabbing your ankles, he slides his hand up to your thigh, teasing you by rubbing your clit over your panties. 
“Look at you, your panties are soaked,” he teases, smirking at the way you bite your lip to stop the moans from falling. He grabs the thin material, ripping it off and throwing it on the ground. 
Your eyes widen and you lean on your elbows, staring at him with a disapproving look on your face. The panties that you had bought a few days ago are now on the floor, ripped apart. 
“Steve–”
“Yeah, Yeah,” he rolls his eyes as he places your legs over his shoulders, “I’ll buy you new ones.” 
He presses a teasing kiss on your clit, smirking when you whine at his action. 
“You’re so fucking wet, honey. Is that all for me? I thought you hated me.” 
“God, fucking shut up and d–” He cuts you off, gripping your hips tighter, he licks up stripe up your pussy, moaning at your taste, “you shut up,” he mumbles before he buries his face in your cunt. Nudging his nose against your aching clit as he slips his tongue inside of you. 
“Oh my god,” you whimper as you slap your hand over your mouth, not wanting to give the satisfaction that he is making you moan. 
He grunts against you, sliding his hand up your body, he cups your boob and tugs at your nipple, earning a gasp from you. 
“Steve!” 
“Hand off your mouth, y/n,” he says, glaring at you with dark eyes, “let me hear your moans.” 
You roll your eyes and put your hand down. 
“Good girl.” He mumbles, eyes twinkling with mischief when he sees your flustered expression, he feels you clench around his fingers as he pushes two inside of you, “fuck, you’re tight, how am I gonna fit inside of you?” 
His words cause you to roll your eyes again, he will never stop being cocky. 
Moans and whimpers echo through the room when he begins to eat you out, switching his fingers with his tongue as he grabs your ass and holds you even tighter than before when you begin to squirm beneath him. 
You reach down, gripping his hair and pulling at it. 
“F-Fuck, Steve….” You whine. Tears blur your vision, your muscles tense and your back arches in pleasure, “d-don’t stop, Steve, please don’t stop,” you breathe as you feel his tongue on your clit again and his fingers back in your pussy. 
He moans against you, mumbling praises you cannot focus on. 
King Steve is eating your pussy like his life is depending on it and he moans like a slut while doing so. Palming himself as he tastes you on his tongue and listens to you falling apart for him. 
“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as you hold his hair tighter, “please, I’m so close.” 
“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Do it, honey, do it.” 
You let go, pushing away all the thoughts that are telling you how wrong this is, you cum hard and he moans and continues to lick you, his eyes roll back, he enjoys every fucking second of this. 
“I haven’t even fucked you and your legs are already shaking.” 
You open your eyes to look at him, your chest rises up and down heavily, sweat coating your forehead already, you swallow, pushing yourself up, you get on your hands and knees and crawl towards him, watching as he takes his shirt off. You grab him by his belt and pull him in. 
You look up at him through hooded eyes, your hair is a mess, your skin is hot, you’re half naked, the only item left on you is your skimpy little skirt, he wants to fuck you while you are wearing it. 
“Can I suck your cock?” You ask, sliding your hand up his body, “I love sucking cock.” 
His eyes widen and he almost chokes on his spit, how can you look at him so innocently and speak such filthy words? 
“I-I… huh?” 
Nancy was different, sure she sucked him off but she didn’t really seem to be excited to do it, you though? You want it, for your own pleasure. 
“You love sucking cocks?” 
The look on his face almost makes you giggle, almost. 
“Mhmm.” 
“How many cocks have you sucked before?” He asks in curiosity. 
You unbuckle his belt slowly, eying all the moles on his skin, his chest hair, his toned arms, the growing mustache. Steve is hot. Has he always been this hot?  
“Take your pants off, Steve.” 
“Answer the question first and then I’ll take them off.” 
You roll your eyes. 
“Before Jonathan? Just two.” 
“Oh, who was it?” 
“Take your pants off and I’ll tell you.” 
He takes them off instantly, kicking his shoes off and throwing his pants somewhere. 
“Well the first guy… you don’t know him, I met him when I went to visit a friend in Chicago,” you shrug. 
He raises his brows, nodding, “the second guy?” 
A smirk grows on your face, you lick your lips and place your hand on his dick, rubbing your palm over his boxers. He shudders, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he moans. 
“Eddie Munson.” 
His eyes widen at your admission, lips parting in surprise, “w-what? Eddie Munson, th-the f–”
“Yes, Eddie Munson!” You snap, not letting him finish the sentence. “I sucked him off in the bathroom after lunch break, Jason Carver was being mean to him and I felt bad for him.” 
“So you cheered him up by sucking his dick?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he's jealous. 
“Yeah, I mean who wouldn’t want to get his dick sucked by the head cheerleader?” You giggle, “he really liked it, came back for more.” 
“And then what?” 
You lean closer and kiss his hip bone and his stomach, trailing your lips up to his chest until you're kneeling on the bed in front of him, placing your hand on his chest and your lips on his neck, you kiss his neck the way he did to you earlier. 
“He fucked me in his van, in the bathroom at school, in the janitor’s closet, behind the bleachers, he fucked me hard.” 
Steve moans, he feels your cold piercing against his skin, his hand slide down to your waist. 
“I bet you can’t fuck me the way he fucked me.” You mumble as you lean back down again, tugging at his boxers, you slide them down his legs and you gasp. His cock slaps against his stomach, pre cum leaking from his tip. 
“Oh.” Is all you manage to say as you stare at his cock. Suddenly you look intimidated, your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen, “t-that’s not gonna fit.” 
Steve chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw, he caresses your cheek, “oh, we’ll make it fit, honey.” 
“You still wanna suck it?” He asks.
You nod, whining when he puts his hand on your head, guiding you towards him. 
“It’s all yours.” 
You wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, stroking him a few times before you begin to tease him with your tongue, swirling it around the tip, you close your eyes and enjoy the sound of his moans.
“O-Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Gripping your hair tightly, he looks down at you, watching as you take more of him, his cock disappearing in your mouth, inch by inch until it hits the back of your throat. 
“Jesus fuck….” 
“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck him off. 
“Shit, stop…” He whines, tugging at your hair, “I’m not gonna last if you do that, I-I need to cum inside of you.” 
You don’t listen to him, instead you continue to suck him off eagerly, moaning and whimpering in pleasure, you arch your back, cupping his balls–
“Fuck!” He whimpers, basically shoving you off of him, “you little slut, I said I’m not gonna last.” 
You pout at him, “but I want to taste you too.” 
He stares at you bewildered. What the fuck? He never thought you would be like this but god, does he love it. 
“Later,” he says as he pushes you down and crawls on top of you, cupping your cheeks, his nose brushes against yours, “taste yourself instead,” he smirks before he kisses you again. 
The kiss is nothing near soft, it’s rough and needy. Your teeth clash, your tongues meet and you both moan and groan desperately. He pushes your skirt up higher, wrapping your legs around his waist, he takes his aching cock in his hand, sliding it between your slick folds, causing you both to moan. 
“Please, please… Fuck me, Steve. Make me feel something, please.” 
You beg and you plead, you arch your back and you pull him closer. He looks at you, truly looks at you for the first time. You’re beautiful, pretty, cute. You’re cute, even as you lay there looking up at him like a needy whore. He furrows his brows, watching the way your lips part, your pretty eyes staring into his, your soft hand touches his shoulder. 
What is he doing? 
What has he been doing all this time? 
“I got you, fuck, I got you.” 
He concentrates on you, on the look on your face as he pushes inside of you for the very first time. 
You whine and you bit your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. You raise your head, looking down, you watch how his cock disappears in your pussy. Tears spring to your eyes as he stretches you open. 
“Poor baby, can’t take my big cock huh?” He teases with a smirk on his face that quickly falls again when you clench around him, causing him to stop moving, “f-fuck.” 
“Keep moving, Steve, please.”
He leans down, burying his face in your neck, he finally pushes all the way in. He says your name so filthily, it only makes you clench around him again. 
He curses at you as he begins to move, pushing himself back up again, he places both his hands beside you. 
“Pound my pussy, Steve, ruin me.” 
He smirks at your words and pulls out, looking down to see his glistening cock pushing back into your tight hole again. It makes his stomach flutter. 
“Such a good fucking pussy.” 
“Mhmm, you’re big, biggest cock I've ever had.” 
He only gives you a cocky grin in return. He knows he’s big. 
He grabs your boobs roughly and finally, he begins to fuck you like you wanted him too. 
“Ah– Steve, fuck… don’t stop!” 
He begins to pound your pussy in the most disrespectful way possible, squelching noises and your whines echo through the room. He watches your fucked out expression, he watches the way your pretty face scrunches up in pleasure, the way your screw your eyes shut. All you can do is moan and whimper and all he can do is stare at you in awe. 
He presses his hand on your lower stomach, pushing down on it, “you feel me, baby?” He asks, kissing your lips, “you feel my cock inside of you?” 
You nod, whimpering pathetically. 
You feel him, you feel him everywhere. His cock is splitting you open so perfectly, fucking you in a way only a man can. 
“Byers is a fucking idiot, stupid boy doesn’t know how to handle a woman,” he grunts as he thrusts into your roughly, “he’s fucking missing out. Shit baby, you’ve got the most perfect little pussy, so fucking tight and wet for me.” 
“S-Steve…” 
“I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you, gonna breed that little pussy and make you mine, gonna fill you up with my cum, over and over again until you’re f-fucking pregnant, gonna show those fuckers what they missed.” 
“P-Please,” you moan. 
“You’d like that huh? You’d love to get pregnant by the guy you hate?” 
“Mhmm,” you whine, you reach for his hands, dragging them up to your neck, “choke me, daddy.” 
His eyes widen and he fucking whimpers, his dick is throbbing inside of you and you know he is close. 
“God, you’re fucking filthy,” he grunts, wrapping his hands around your throat, “call me that again.” 
“Daddy.” 
He fucks you harder, rougher, faster and deeper. He wants you, he needs you. He is desperate for you. 
You put your hands around his wrists, looking up at him through the tears, “harder.” 
He gives you what you want, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You move your hips, meeting his thrusts. Tears stream down your face and you can no longer hold the sobs in. 
“Cum inside of me, Steve.” 
Your walls flutter around him and his hold on you tightens, “y-you want me to cum inside of you–”
“Please, I need it!” 
His hips stutter and he can no longer hold back, he slams his lips against yours, moving one hand down, his fingers graze your sensitive nipples for a moment, he touches your stomach, your hips and then his fingertips find your clit, rubbing fast circles on it. He listens to the way your moans grow high pitched as you cum around him. 
“I’m cumming, f-fuck,” he murmurs against your lips as he spills inside of you, coating your walls with his seed. 
You both whimper in pleasure. He continues to thrust in and out of you slowly, for a moment and then he slumps against you, letting go of your throat and letting his face fall against your chest, his throbbing cock still inside of you. 
You both need a moment to calm down from this. 
Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t push off of you and pretend like nothing happened. He just continues to lay there, on your chest, tracing your skin with his rough hands. 
And you, you play with his hair, not a single thought of your ex boyfriend or your best friend. All you think about is Steve. How good he made you feel, how pretty he looked when he ate your pussy, how he kissed you, how he smells. 
“I think you almost fucked the hate I have for you out of me.” 
He snorts at you, “wow, very romantic.” 
“Oh we’re being romantic now?” 
He looks up at you, “I mean, I’m still inside of you and you are playing with my hair so yeah.” 
“Shut up,” you roll your eyes but are unable to fight the smile off your face. 
He grins, “no one ever called me daddy.” 
“Someone else will call you daddy in 9 months if you don’t get me the morning after pill.” 
You almost expect him to grow pale but instead he laughs nervously.
“Babies can’t talk, honey.” 
“Huh?” 
“You said in 9 months, are you telling me newborns can speak now?” 
“I was joking!” You mumble. 
“Mhmm, sure you were,” he chuckles. 
For a moment, the room is filled with silence. All you hear is the sound of the music from the party, the laughter and the loud voices. The smell of sex lingers in the room, the smell of him lingers on you. 
“You know what? I think we should’ve done that a long time ago,” Steve admits, “in fact I think we should do it again.” 
You smirk at him, “to get back at them or because you just wanna be called daddy again?” 
For a moment, his face grows serious and he finds himself staring at you longingly, “I just wanna do it again, not to get back at them, fuck them.” 
“Let’s do it then,” you whisper, “but take me home first.” 
“Yes ma’am.” 
A week ago, you would’ve laughed if someone told you that this would happen. That you would break up with your cheating boyfriend, lose a best friend you had known since childhood and fuck the man you hated half of your life. 
Yet here you are, letting Steve Harrington help you get dressed, letting him steal kisses, letting him slap your ass on the way out. 
You walked into his room hating him and you walked out of here, well, hating him a little less.
You both got betrayed by people you loved, deeply. You lost them but at least you had found each other.  
In a perfect world you would be together. 
Maybe this can be a perfect world after all.
-
tagging some faves @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting
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norrizzandpia · 5 months
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Showing You My Love (LN4)
Summary: McLaren’s forced Lando into a PR stunt of a relationship and his girlfriend, Y/n, back into hiding just when she was ready to go public.
Warnings: language, a condom, angst, a sort of break up, but happy ending
Note: not a request IM SORRY this one isn’t as slay as i can do but i just rlly wanted to get something out bc I haven’t posted in a while and miss yall 🫶🏻 this one’s storyline is quite complicated because Lando is in a PR relationship whilst also having an actual gf sooo have fun? ALSO SMUT FLUFF AND ANGST FOR BOTH LANDO AND OSCAR WILL BE COMING SOON I HAVE LESS THAN A WEEK OF SCHOOL LEFT SO JUST BEAR WITH ME 🙏🏻
“Lan?” Y/n shouts as she walks through the door of his apartment, a large smile on her face as she prepares to ask him a question that could set anew relationship.
She hears a soft sigh before he responds, “In here.”
She travels to the living room to find her boyfriend sitting on the couch, his head buried in his phone.
She sits hesitantly next to him, newfound nerves erupting in her stomach.
“Can I talk to you?” She whispers, his blatant disregard for her presence told her this might not be a good time to breach this particular subject.
He nods nonetheless, waving his hand slightly to signal her continuation, “Sure, what’s up?”
She takes a deep breath, the fact that his eyes aren’t on hers makes her want to back out. She perseveres, although, hands clasped in her lap as she asks, “Do you think we could go public? With our relationship, I mean.”
At this, he freezes. Lando’s fingers stop flying over his phone’s keyboard and he slowly turns to stare at her.
The words try to fall from his lips, but they stop right at the cusp. Lando watches as she retreats into herself, a reality check that cuts deep in her heart as he looks to be rejecting her proposition.
“I…” He hesitates, “I can’t.”
Her eyebrows contort, “Why?”
His phone raises to her face, his hand shoving it in her eyeline to see the text conversation he had been having with Zak before she had sat down. Her gaze floats over the blue bubbles for a moment before she understands and her heart sinks.
“I don’t understand.” She does, though. She just can’t bring herself to accept it.
Lando forces her to, “They want me in a relationship, but a PR stunt. A girl named Olivia, they said.”
Her nails rips at the skin of her thumb, “Why not me?”
“It’s good for the team, baby. She’s a big name, her dad is a big investor. I have to do this.”
It hurts too much to ask, “What does that mean for us?”
He nods, “I knew you were going to ask me this. This doesn’t mean anything for us. It just means that we have to stay quiet for a little while longer. I’m still your boyfriend, Y/n.”
She huffs, “Just in private.”
His arms slithers around her shoulders, a touch so cold she wants to shove it away, “I’ll always be yours. Anywhere. Anytime.”
Sure, let’s see if that proves true, she thought.
Olivia is a woman of many things. Kindness is not one of them.
From the moment she steps foot into Lando’s life, Y/n is her main target. From backhanded compliments to obvious jests at her, Y/n watches as Lando lets it all go unsaid.
“Y/n?” Olivia’s voice rings in Y/n’s ear as she stops her staring at Lando.
Turning her head, Y/n smile is strained, “Yes?”
Olivia cocks her head and the sinister look looms beneath her blue eyes, “You’re sitting too close to Lando. Remember, he’s my boyfriend outside. Anybody could see you eyefucking him right now.”
Y/n analyzes the situation. At a lunch table in the paddock, Lando sitting to her left, Olivia to her right, fans and employees scattered amongst the ground below them, Y/n feels her tolerance break a bit more.
She slides her chair across the ground, a dry screeching ringing her ears and drowning out the anger toward the two people sitting closest to her.
Olivia, the woman she loathes, and Lando, the man she hates that she loves. Since the beginning of their act, Y/n has understood where her place is, or at least she has understood from the constant reminder from all people involved. Lando, Olivia, Zak, and Jon have made it their duty to remind her of her image as Lando’s best friend, nothing more.
In the beginning, she felt as though she meant a bit more than just nothing, but, as she sits between the couple as they share small talk, she feels to be falling behind.
A sort of feeling that plasters her heart on the wall and spreads it around until its pieces and bits are left on the ground.
A sort of feeling that forces her to grab her purse and leave the table, mumbling an excuse of wanting to find Oscar, the only other man she knows throughout the paddock.
The feeling worsens when Lando smiles at her, nodding his head along as if there’s no problem.
There’s a wetness pooling in her eyes that begs to differ, that counters Lando’s implications.
🏎️
Y/n finds Oscar in his driver’s room, his body hunched over the bench as he texts Lily on his phone. When he hears the creaking of the door, his eyes lift and begin to soften when they take in Y/n.
“Hey! What’s up?” He cheerfully says, the tone making Y/n draw in a breath as she plasters a smile on her face.
She plops down on his massage bed, “Nothing! Just bored.”
At that, he seems confused, “Where’s Lando? He isn’t free? I feel like it can’t get boring with him.” He chuckles.
She smiles softly, head falling down to stare at her hands in her lap, “He’s with Olivia. Thought I’d give them their space.”
She raises her eyes when she hears Oscar let out a scoff. He stares at her blankly before groaning, “I’m so sorry, I know she’s Lando’s girlfriend and all, but, oh my god, Y/n, I can’t stand her.”
Her teeth shine from her giggles, “Ah, she’s okay. She’s not that bad.”
Oscar deadpans, “Y/n, she asked you how much your Chanel purse was and then told you hers was more expensive.”
Y/n shakes her head, eyes falling back down to her lap, “Yeah, that wasn’t her finest moment.”
“It would make more sense for Lando to date you.” He whispers. Whether he meant for her to hear it or not, Y/n doesn’t know. Regardless, she acts as if she doesn’t, not wanting to have to create a situation where she has to genuinely lie to one of her friends.
As if she hasn’t been doing that for the past year she’s been with Lando.
Lying to every person she cherished most was the worst thing to ask of her. There was a resentment that brewed below the love she had for Lando because of the things he made her give up for him.
“Are you staying for the race? I know it goes pretty late into the night.” Oscar pipes up when a silence encompasses them.
She shakes her head, “No, I’m going to go back to the hotel after this.”
“Oh, too bad.” Oscar sighs as he gets up from his seat, walking over to her and peeking in her bag.
Y/n’s eyebrow inches up, “What are you doing?”
Oscar plants a sly smile on his face as his hand lightly pushes the bag open further, “Got any gum in here?”
She laughs loudly as he continues to search through her bag, less ashamed now. She’s keeled over when she hears him cackle. Y/n looks to see Oscar clasping a small package in his hand, a large smile on his face as he stares in disbelief.
“A condom?! Why do you have a condom?!” He screams, which warrants Y/n to slap her hands over his mouth.
She whispers, “Shut up!”
Oscar's mouth slobbers over her palms as he continues to laugh, “Who are you planning on sleeping with here, Y/n?”
She draws a blank, saying the one thing that comes to her mind, “He isn’t involved with F1.”
Another lie added to the pile she agitatedly sits on.
Oscar draws back, “Oh? There’s an actual man in the picture?”
She grins slightly, grabbing her bag and moving toward the door, “And you wonder why I’m leaving early.”
Oscar stays there, still chuckling at the leftover condom in his hand.
🏎️
Hours later, Lando is running around the paddock like a mad man, stopping random strangers to ask if they had seen Y/n.
Oscar stands off to the side when he hears Lando’s frantic voice behind him, petrifying an innocent fan asking for a simple photo. He waltzes over, hand coming to clasp Lando’s shoulder before saying, “Why don’t you just take the picture, mate?”
Lando turns his head, eyeing Oscar before fully moving his body the other way, “Do you know where Y/n is? I haven’t heard from her at all.”
Oscar looks at Lando blankly, “She left. You didn’t know?”
Lando steps back, “Left? No? What?”
Sensing that there is more to this discussion, he leans around Lando and grabs the fan’s phone. He shuffles Lando and the fan into the frame before snapping the picture, ushering the fan away gently.
When they’re left alone, Oscar questions, “How come you didn’t know? It seemed like a set plan when she told me. She’s going to meet some guy, she said.”
Lando’s eyes bulge, “What?”
The tone is low, intimidating and it makes Oscar doubt the platonic dynamic of the two.
“She hasn’t answered your calls? Have you tried to call her?” Oscar changes the subject, not wanting to realize something when Lando actively has a girlfriend.
Lando shakes his head, “No. Who’s this guy?”
“I don’t know, Lando. She didn’t say anything about him. Ask her about it later. After the race.” Oscar tries, knowing Lando’s presence is direly needed in a few minutes when the lights go out on the track.
Lando huffs, “Fine.”
He walks off, clearly irritated at Y/n’s disappearance.
Oscar watches the scene play out in front of him.
Lando’s figure vanishes from sight.
Then, out of the corner of Oscar’s eye, Olivia’s eyes stay on Lando’s distress before he goes out of sight. She leans against a wall, a smirk on her face that reads something dark.
She shakes her head, tapping away at her phone, as she snickers to herself, seemingly satisfied with her boyfriend’s response.
In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to witness her behavior.
In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to see Lando’s and Olivia’s relationship in a different light.
In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to question what really goes on behind closed doors.
“Shit fucking race. Shit fucking day. Shit fucking year. Jesus fucking Christ.” Lando whispers to himself as he unlocks the door to his hotel room.
When he enters through the threshold, the lights are completely out, the only light being the soft sunlight bleeding through the curtains. Y/n’s body lays cuddled under the blankets of the bed and the sight melts Lando’s heart, no matter how disappointed he is in her lack of support today.
He checks the clock, noticing the blaring 7 that makes him feel more comfortable waking Y/n up.
“Baby,” He says lightly, hands shaking her body softly, “Love, wake up.”
She groans under his touch, body crouching further under the bed sheets before her eyelids flutter open.
She looks at him in a raw way that makes him feel exposed, her piercing gaze striking his soul permanently.
“Where’d you go?” He asks as she sits up, blankets still wrapped tightly around her cool body.
She sighs, “I left, Lando.”
“So I heard. To go meet a man, might I add.” He says. Although, this time, it continues to be soft, but there’s a passive undertone that communicates the feeling of abandonment.
She shakes her head, “No, that’s a lie. Just like we are.”
He rears back, “Excuse me?”
His hands are wound tightly across each of her arms and they flex under her skin as the truth lingers in Lando’s ears.
Y/n groans as she pulls herself away from him, “I can’t do this anymore.”
“What? Me? Us?” He adds, his body standing up and towering over her.
She mimics his movement, the sheets falling from her shoulders as she extends her limbs, “Everything, Lando. This whole situation! I was so fucking stupid to think that you being in a PR relationship while we were together was something that could work.”
Lando shrugs, “What are you talking about?! You’ve never told me it wasn’t working!”
Her jaw drops open, “You thought this was working?! You thought I was fine with you parading around outside with another girl? Something I’ve wanted for way too long!”
“Y/n, this is bullshit! It’s on you for not telling me how you were feeling!” He remarks, hands being shoved inside his pockets as they bicker back and forth.
She rubs a hand over her forehead, “No, it’s not bullshit, Lando! You’re bullshit! This whole fucking relationship is bullshit! It’s been a fucking lie from the moment it started! I don’t want to be a part of that.”
He sits back down, head in his hands as they pull at the strands, “I don’t know what to tell you, Y/n.”
She stands, vulnerable and helpless, before him as she whispers, “Do you know what it feels like to feel like the other woman when you’re supposed to be the main one? Do you know what it feels like to feel like a dirty secret, something to be ashamed of and hide from prying eyes? Do you know what it fucking feels like to feel so incredibly alone next to a man who is supposed to give you the world? It feels like shit, Lando. You make me feel like shit. You and Zak and Jon and Olivia and everyone else tied to your name. You all make me feel like shit.”
There’s a tear that falls from Lando’s eye as he wills himself to look her in the eye, “I still want to give you the entire world.”
“You can’t.”
The weight of her statement and the hard way she says it breaks him. She stopped living in delusions long ago and he stayed in a land where having her was possible.
“I’m sorry,” He says, watching her put clothes on and grab her suitcase.
“I know you are.” She responds, a beat passing before she whispers back, “I’m sorry too.”
Her definitive statement achingly stays with him as he watches her gather her things and call an Uber.
“Where are you going to go?” He says softly, almost as if breaking the silence will break them further.
“My sister’s house. You know, you remember cause I told you, she lives a few hours from here.”
He nods, “Text me when you get there?”
She stands at the door, he stands with her, and she shakes her head, “No, Lando.”
She walks out the door, Lando grabs her arm, “Is this it? I don’t understand. Are we…” He can’t bring himself to say it.
She breathes, “I’m not sure either, to be honest. I know I said I couldn’t do this anymore with you, but it’s not that easy and I know what we have. I’ve never felt this before. I just need some time and space from you, from this world. I need to decide if staying is really worth the situation I’ve been put in.”
She walks further down the hall and Lando watches her, a few more sentences lingering in his brain that has him wishing he had said them to her.
He doesn’t get a chance to say them, however.
The elevator doors close before he can get them out.
There’s loud cheering and sounds of yells as Lando throws off his helmet, a large smile on his face as his first race win seeps under his skin.
He throws his body into the group of his mechanics, hugging his favorite people, and when he turns, expecting to see his favorite girl, he sees Olivia instead.
He tries to hide his disappointment as he hugs her, her body not fitting the way Y/n’s had.
There’s a silence that falls upon him as he gazes upon the thousands of people yelling his name and he’s hit with a deep wave of grief.
Grieving over the loss of his best friend, the loss of his girlfriend, the loss of the love of his life, the loss of his Y/n.
Images of her dance in his head as Mark Webber ushers him over, a microphone in each hand as he smiles at him.
A memory of the time she told him all the things she loved about him because he was feeling inadequate plagues his brain as Mark congratulates him.
“Lando! Stellar job here today in Silverstone! How does it feel to have your first race win?” Mark inquires, shaking Lando’s shoulder lovingly.
Lando hesitates to answer because, frankly, it fucking sucks. He meets Jon’s eyes and the man looks as if he’s lost himself. Jon stares at him with a deep gaze, a look Lando recognizes as the way Jon looks when he’s utterly ashamed of himself. Lando can already tell what he’s about to mouth before Jon’s lips begin to move, “I’m so sorry.” He says inaudibly.
The Brit takes the three words as a green light. The confirmation he can get his girl back.
“Not great.” Lando says into the microphone, the crowds falling silent at his surprising words.
Mark frowns, “Oh? Why’s that? This is a happy day!”
Lando shakes his head as he looks down and sighs, “You know, I always thought I would be so over the moon to win my first race, but, as I stand here, a trophy awaiting me, I genuinely feel so disappointed. I feel disappointed because I’ve lost sight of the one win in my life that I lost so stupidly. My best friend, Y/n, as everyone knows her, was never my best friend. I mean, she was my best friend, but she was also my girlfriend, somebody I was incredibly in love with. Somebody I am in love with. Shit, this is so messy and so hard to condense into this short interview, but I have to say it. Olivia and I were a PR stunt. There were individuals that wanted me to be dating someone of a higher status, something Y/n doesn’t have. She was forced to sit through four months of excruciating pain because Olivia and I were being shoved in her face. Y/n is one of the strongest people I know, the fact she was able to go through that with a straight face proves that. But, I can’t let what she told me the night she left me go unsaid.” Lando looks into the camera, as cheesy as he knows it is and says what he had wanted to tell her that night as the elevator doors cut him off, “Y/n, you are not the other woman. You are not a dirty secret and you are not alone. You are the complete opposite of all those things. You are the one person I’ve ever truly loved; the one person I want to spend the rest of my life with; the one person I cannot live without; the one person that I cannot bear hurting. I’ve hurt you, I know that, a lot of people involved in this have and I hate that. I hate that I didn’t stop what was going on, fight back against what they were asking me to do. I’m so sorry. If I could redo it, I would. I would say no to it all and go public with you. I would tell you a thousand times yes that night on the sofa when you asked me if we could go public. I would do it all so differently because, maybe I didn’t before, but I know what I’ve lost now and I will fight so much harder for us, harder than I did that night you walked out because I have been in love with you for so long. I’ve waited for you my entire life, even before I knew who you were. I’ve waited for the person I ended up settling down with, waited for the person who stole my breath. I’ve waited for you and I’m not going to let that go to waste. I was dick and I took you for granted. Please let me show you that that was never the way I wanted to treat you, that I can love you better than that. Please let me back in. It’s public now, baby. Public and I don’t want that to ever change.”
Mark smiles brightly at him as the crowd behind them cheers deafeningly, “Young love, yeah?”
Lando nods, “Yeah.”
🏎️
Caroline sits on the arm of the couch next to Y/n, mouth agape. Y/n mirrors her expression, blanket wrapped around her legs as Lando retreats from the frame.
“What just happened?” Caroline, her sister, asks. There’s a small smile on her face as the shock wears off.
Y/n shakes her head, her hands already trying to find her phone, “I don’t know.”
The two watch as Lando is presented with his trophy, the camera zooming in on him as he mouths, “This one’s for you, love.”
Y/n is smiling so hard it’s painful and her sister watches her with delight. When the champagne spraying is done and the feed ends, Y/n leaps from the couch.
“Did you see that?!” She exclaims, giddy laughter over the one thing she had yearned for and finally got.
Caroline joins her incessant jumping, “Yes! It’s public!”
The two squeal together, but the noises are cut off when Y/n’s phone rings from between the couch cushions.
Caroline smiles before exiting the room, Lando’s contact photo lighting up her sister’s screen and cueing her leave.
However, she stays in the other room, eavesdropping without a care in the world.
Y/n picks up the phone, shaky hand bringing the device to her ear as Lando’s panting floods through the speaker.
“Y/n? Were you watching the race?” He asks.
She nods, tears in her eyes as she whispers, “Yes,”
He breathes out a sigh of relief, “So, you saw what I said?”
“Yes,”
He’s quiet for a moment, “And… what did you think?”
He hears quiet giggling on the other end of the phone and his heart soars to the sky, “You have a way with words, Lan.”
“Only with you,” He adds, smiling to himself over the girl miles away.
There’s a loud grunt and crash on his side of the phone, one that sends Y/n laughing.
“Let me guess, Olivia?” She tries to which Lando laughs.
“Right on the nail, baby.” He whispers as her yells continue.
“What do Zak and Jon think about this?” She asks after a time.
Lando tuts, “They’re glad to get rid of Olivia. Jon apologized to me the second I got off the podium. He said he wants to apologize to you too. So does Zak. They both do. They know how they went about it all was wrong and Jon went on this whole rant about seeing me as a son and how he would never want to treat his son the way he had treated me. Trust me, love, they’re as on board with this as we are.”
Y/n nods before asking quietly, “You’re on summer break now, right?”
“Yes,”
“What are your plans?”
He smiles, “Taking the first flight to you. Why?”
Y/n laughs, “I was going to ask you if I could come to Monaco, to see you, but it turns out seeing each other is a problem already solved.”
He chuckles along with her, “No, baby, you stay right where you are. It’s time I start coming to you now. Time I start showing you the lengths I’d go to to keep you in my life, to keep loving you.”
She blushes, “That speech sure accomplished that.”
His cheeks redden just like hers, “Oh, love, that’s just the beginning.”
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cosmiiwrites · 2 months
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·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ enemies to lovers
.ೃ࿐ adam x fem!reader .ೃ࿐
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ summary: in which you and adam find out you don't hate each other as much as you think you do cw: NSFW, fem!reader, p in v, oral (fem recieving), creampie, adam (he's his own warning), hair pulling, semi-public sex, cussing a/n: FINALLY DONE !! first smut fic though, so apologies if some things dont make sense :(
you hated adam. you hated his cocky attitude and his fuckboy persona. and most of all, you hated how everyone stayed quiet about it. him being the first man didn't mean jack shit to you. if he was being an egotistical asshole? you won't hesitate to put him in his place. even if that meant starting an argument in front of the promenade, putting your hatred for one another on display.
adam, on the other hand, loved someone who could match his abrasive attitude. and it meant more that you went out of your way to shout insults at him every chance you got. to be honest? it turned him on. but he would rather die then admit that. during meetings, you two would bicker non-stop, shooting daggers at each other from across the table. so yes, everyone and their mothers knew about you and adam's ongoing feud. what did everyone also know? the unspoken sexual tension between you two. the tension so thick it was tangible. the tension everyone knew about except the two idiots who claimed they hated each other. even lute was getting sick of it. "what a bitch, am i right?" "yes, sir." "she's just salty because i'd never go for a cunt like her," "mhm, sir." "maybe i sho-" "you know what i just remembered? sera saying she had something to discuss with me. ill be leaving now, sir." adam shot her a confused look. it wasnt like lute to walk out on a conversation so abruptly. (spoiler alert, she just didnt want to hear adam talk about you for the millionth time today) "well, uh, shit, okay." upon leaving, adam bumped into a familiar face. "well, well, well, if it isn't-" you slid right past him, ignoring any advance he'd tried making towards you. "what the fuck?" adam's face grew warm from embarrassment. did you just ignore him? he planted himself in front of you, hoping to make a statement. his tall figure hovered over yours. "ignoring me, hm? is that any way to treat the first man?" he teased. you sighed and rubbed your forehead in annoyance before answering, "if by 'first man' you mean 'overly-confident egomaniac' then yes." that's what adam liked about you; you didnt kiss his ass 24/7 like all the other angels. you didnt crave his approval. "i seriously don't understand how people can tolerate being around you," you groaned.
"oh fuck off, the ladies love me," he grinned. "especially in be-" you threw your hand to cover his mouth. "ugh, spare me the details, you gross fuck." your statement only widened his shit-eating grin. "why, jealous?" he teased, dragging on the s. "fuck, no! i feel bad for all the women you've slept with, they've probably faked all their orgasms as to not hurt your fragile ego." you retorted. adam's smirk dropped. he couldn’t BELIEVE you thought he was incapable of pleasuring a woman. luckily for you, his anger quickly turned to interest as an idea popped up in adam's head. he leaned into your ear, voice low and husky, "you wanna bet on that?"
taken aback from his sudden offer , you backed up until your back hit the wall of the alley you two were in. “what,” you breathed, “are you on about?”
“if i can make you cum,” adam started, “you have to admit that one; im the dick-fuckin’-master, and two; i AM capable of pleasuring a woman. deal?” adam's said a ton of dumb shit, but this? you let out a boisterous laugh. “are you serious?” but after a few beats of unearthly silence, thats when you knew he was. “well, shit.” you did want a chance at proving him wrong and taking down his ego. to be fair, no one’s made you cum in a long, long time. and you were always up for a challenge.
you grabbed adam by the collar and dragged him down to your level.
“deal.”
———————————————————————
thats how you found yourself up against a wall, being eaten out by the first man, the first soul in heaven, and your well-known rival.
you didnt want to admit it, but god, this man was good with his tongue. not to mention his hands.
he gripped your thighs tightly, spreading them apart and smirking up at you. your flustered face drove him mad, only fueling his desire for you. its not his fault you looked so fuckin’ cute. maybe he should get you like this more often…
adam shamelessly licked up and down your entrance, earning small involuntary whimpers from you. he dragged his hand down your thigh to rub circles on your clit, making you twitch under his touch. “taste so fuckin’ good,” he growled. wanting more, you tugged at his hair, forcing his tongue to prod at your cunt. “impatient, are we? and to think you hated me.”
it was like he was waiting for this exact moment; for adam ate like a man starved. like he hadn’t eaten in days, and you were the only thing that could nourish him.
suddenly, he sunk his long tongue into your clit, “shit, adam!” he smirked against your cunt. “enjoying y’self, babe?” “f-fuck—haah—you!” was all you can manage, before he sunk his tongue deeper into you, fingers now circling your clit twice as fast. “dont worry, tits, you’ll be doing that in a bit.”
it wasnt long before you had cum all over his tongue and face, panting like a maniac. you had already lost the bet, but you didnt care. nor had any of you two mentioned it. lost in a drunken haze, all you wanted was his cock buried inside of you.
you quickly recovered from your high and grinded against his painfully hard erection. “s-shit, babe, didn’t take you for a desperate whore,” adams words were slurred, his need for you fogging his brain. “s-shut up,” you retorted “looks like you can still talk back,” he grinned. “i’ll fuck that bratty attitude out of you.” “youve yet to do so,” you teased. “you bluffing, dickmaster?” oh, now you’ve got him in a chokehold.
those would be your famous last words, before adam would recklessly pound into you.
adam quickly undid his boxers, revealing his hard cock, precum already spilling from his tip. you thought he was joking when he called himself the ‘dickmaster.’ you silently wondered how that would fit inside of you. “see how fuckin’ worked up you get me, tits?” adam babbled.
he bent you over, your wrists just above your head.
you were about to reply with a snarky comeback when he pushed his cock into you, no warning beforehand.
“i fuckin’ knew it,” he said. “tight as shit. bet no one’s fucked you as good as im about to, huh?” you wanted to respond, to deny his accusations, but the only sounds that left your mouth were desperate moans and whimpers. it was like music to his ears, fueling him to fuck you brainless.
his large size stung, but pain quickly turned to pleasure when he began to move.
he picked up his pace, pounding into you brutally. it was oh, so sinful. but adam would go to hell anyday if that meant he could have your tight little cunt all to himself.
adam took a fistful of your hair, forcing your back to arch. when you didnt protest, adam threw a line of praise at you. “there we go, good fuckin’ girl, just like that…” the position you were in was a bit uncomfortable, but you quickly stopped paying attention to that when adam thrusted into you sharply. “s-so good f’me,” he babbled.
you knew he was almost at his peak when his thrusts grew sloppy. “shit, almost there, fuck!” he groaned. “m-me too, adam, fuck,”
in one deep thrust, he buried himself inside of you, spilling his cum. you felt your stomach grow warm, full of adam’s seed.
adam was still inside of you, even after you both had came. there were no sounds other than your pants and his huffs. thank god this was an empty street.
finally, he pulled out of you. you whined at the loss of contact, earning you a cheeky grin.
“so,” he said, breaking the silence. “how was that for pleasuring a woman, hmmm?” adam smirked. “still hate me?”
“always, just a little less now.”
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salsakiyoomi · 1 year
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you knew miya atsumu from highschool.
yes, the miya atsumu, the star hit volleyball player, the one on almost every magazine cover, the one with over a hundred million followers on instagram, the one who's notorious for flirting with his interviewers and having an attitude with an over the top ego yet still managing to quiver under his coach's gaze and putting his arrogance in check.
yes, you knew him.
you knew him as the loud, rowdy kid who never shut up in class, who definitely had an over the top ego and attitude problem back then as well, who also flirted with your friends and even you on some if not all occasions.
god, you hated him.
he was arrogant and ignorant and overall a huge dickehead who needed to be tamed.
this was the light you saw him in up until graduation day, when he came up to you with a smirk plastered on his face and you noticed it, mentally preparing yourself to tell him to fuck off if he was here to flirt with you again.
but he didn't saying anything flirtatious, instead, all he said was, "hey, congratulations on being in the top three, man, it's freakin' awesome."
he was congratulating you for when you took your diploma and the principal announced that you were in second place between all the other graduates.
and after that, miya atsumu left and you never saw him again.
it wasn't until a few years later that you randomly saw his name on a twitter headline that said 'new upcoming volleyball star : miya atsumu is certainly making his way to the frontlines!'
it was obvious that volleyball would be his go-to, he was definitely talented at it, and against your bitter will, you had to admit that even you were awe-strucked when he played on the court.
however, it still was definitely a surprise when you saw his name on headlines, it left you with your mouth hung open in astonishment.
and after that, he was everywhere you went.
on tv, on magazines posing with his teammates, on instagram and twitter, on youtube in 'top ten funniest miya atsumu moments' video compilations — heck, even in a fucking advertisement for a hair conditioner.
you truly couldn't escape him.
by heart, you were a journalist, and so soon came the day where miya atsumu is sitting in front of you, conducting an interview.
well, it isn't him alone, it's him and his teammates — it's loud in the room as all of them talk over eachother, but his eye catches yours and a hint of recognition flashes in them, before a smile spreads on his lips, one that you eventually mirror as if the both of you are sharing some inside joke.
miya atsumu recognizes you.
he recognizes your face and your eyes, he recognizes you smile, and oh how he recognizes your voice that's speaking in a soft, professional tone now, but used to scold him with a harsh and sarcastic tone then.
and so, in the next thirty minute you spent interviewing him and his teammates, miya atsumu's mind kept flashing through the very few memories he had with you in highschool, and most importantly, feelings of an old crush resurfaced now that he's face to face with you.
he's smiling at you, giving you heart eyes, and answering every question that you asked him personally with an almost child-like enthusiasm.
atsumu truly hasn't felt this shy around someone since highschool.
the interview passes quick and everyone scatters soon after and you find yourself standing outside the stadium, with your phone in your hand and waiting for your uber to come.
you think, while miya atsumu still had some of his unmistakable traits such as his attitude and talent to annoy others effortlessly, there's still some traits to him that make you tolerate him a bit more now.
after all, you don't really hate him as much as you did back in highschool.
or it you can even call what you felt towards him back in highschool hate — it was more of a feeling if annoyance really, since he was a nuisance.
"well, well, well, long time no see." a familiar voice plastered with cockiness to it calls out to you, and you turn around to face the blonde.
speak of the devil, you think.
"well, surprised to even see you still remember me, miya." you tease, smirking at him.
"what can i say? it's hard to forget you when you used to call me a 'motherfucking jackass' everyday at school." he shoots back, laughing loudly at the way you turn your face away in embarrassment.
"listen, you used to annoy me alot, okay?" you defend, "and i see that none of that has changed."
he grins at you, and says, "one can only change so little, i see you still have very little tolerance for me."
"as always."
he laughs again, and then his laughter quiets down, but a smile still remains on his lips as he looks at you, his expression timid and his voice almost shy as he says, "haven't seen you in so long, i missed ya."
you think you're imagining it when you see him with a faint pink dusting his cheeks.
now it's your turn to laugh, you aren't necessarily laughing at him, just more so that you're surprised by his sudden statement, and so you reply with, "well, my everyday was kind of dull without you annoying me, so i guess i missed you too."
you can swear that the pink on his cheeks got darker when you said that, but you decide not to say anything of it.
he chuckles and stuffs his hands in his pockets, "well, i'm glad we can finally agree on something." he let's out a long sigh, "who knew fate would bring us back like that? as a hotshot and an interviewer?"
he's being dramatic and cocky again.
you roll your eyes at him, "you think quite highly of yourself, it's sickening."
atsumu grins at you, and you shake your head at him with an unwilling smile on your lips, thinking that maybe his company right now isn't so bad, and that maybe you're actually enjoying talking to him right now.
atsumu asks, "so, are you waiting for someone?"
"my uber, yes."
"well, then i guess you wouldn't mind if i waited with you then." he says, shuffling a bit closer to you — atsumu isn't sure why he's doing this to himself, talking with you knowing how nervous and jittery you get him to be, with his heart pounding fast in his chest and his hands clammy in his pockets and he hasn't felt this way since highschool — but maybe, just maybe he's hoping he could build up enough courage to ask for your number.
"you already are," you remark teasingly, smiling at him.
your phone vibrates in your hand and you check the notification that tell you your uber is almost here.
"it's almost here anyway," you state, and you don't notice how his shoulders suddenly slump down like a disappointed child.
"oh," he says disappointingly, "well, it was nice meeting you again after so long, y/n." he smiles brightly at you.
you state at him for a moment, your mind racing through some thoughts, before you finally decide that : fuck it, you'll just go for it.
"give me your phone." you demand.
he furrows his brows in confusion, "what? why?"
"just give me your phone."
atsumu reluctantly and confusingly pulls his phone out and hands it to you without asking any further questions.
you tap away at his screen for a few seconds before handing his phone back to him — and just then your uber pulls up.
atsumu only catches a glimpse of 'y/n from highschool' saved into his contact list before you're standing on your tippy toes pressing a peck to his cheek and pulling away, smiling and waving at him as you make your way to your ride.
you call out, "call me later, okay?"
atsumu swears his heart went flying with the next gust of wind that blew, and red bloomed on his cheeks as his eyes scanned over your contact name a hundred times, almost as if he couldn't believe it sat in his phone now, and when his mind finally registered it, a giddy, shy smile that he couldn't resist spread to his face.
oh, for sure he'll be calling you later.
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miinatozakiii · 12 days
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killshot
im nayeon x fem!reader ; smut!! 
synopsis: your roommate is aware that you hate her and she likes irritating you but oh no she just now realizes you’re hot and wants you so bad
warnings: kinda porn w no plot ; smut!!! ; mentions of alcohol ; hate fucking(???) ; degradation kinda ; insulting each other as they fuck yesss ; face riding ; comp sci major!reader *shivers and shakes* ; fwb-ish but not really ; nayeon is umm lowk manipulative but only if you squint , maybe? ; not proofread as always
wc: 5.1k
a/n: computer science major slander (i'm jealous) and also i don’t like the pacing but oh well maybe u guys will (i'd be such a great writer if i weren’t lazy af... )
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with a groan, you lift yourself off the bed after hearing a loud thud. tiredly, you blindly reach for your phone and check for the time with squinted eyes: 1:04am. 
a low “fuck” leaves your lips while you struggle to sit up, still hearing the impact of bodies crashing against the walls and the faint sounds of a woman and man groaning through the bedroom door.  
nayeon is home. 
this is a bi-weekly occurrence; your roommate nayeon stumbles into the apartment all hot and heavy from the alcohol that was in her system, and then you can hear her getting all intimate—against your will—with some random person she’s found at the various clubs she cycles through. to be completely honest, you don’t care for her midnight rendezvous, just as long as they don’t bother you. 
however, this night she’s bothered you greatly; you’re fucking irritated. 
just when you had finally sought solace in the arms of sleep after hours of laboring over a project, your few minutes of rest are abruptly shattered by the intrusion of nayeon. —all drunk and insatiable—who’s barging into your room whilst some average guy latches onto her neck. he doesn’t look like he knows what he’s doing, but it doesn’t matter because nayeon’s senses are too fucked to really pay attention to that. 
“get the hell out of my room.” you yell angrily towards the two. to say you were annoyed would be an overwhelming understatement, you were furious. 
“ah—fuck, sorry y/n,” she responds, voice all airy and light whilst the man’s hand slides down to play with the edge of her dress. “wrong room baby, let’s go.” she says whilst pushing the man off her a bit, much to his dismay. 
they both leave the room, still attached to each other with their hands roaming and gripping at anything. to make matters even worse; they didn’t close the door behind them. 
“fucking whore.” you scoff, falling back down on your bed and groaning.  
im nayeon is an indescribable pain in your ass and unfortunately, she also happens to be your roommate. 
for the most part, you generally pride yourself on your composure and tolerance, but living with nayeon has truly put your patience to the test. she's irresponsible and unreliable, which regularly pushes you to your limits. you find yourself frustrated sharing an apartment with someone who’s always falling hort of your expectations. she's falling far from them, really, and it’s almost impressive. 
she has a knack for disappearing into the lurking in the apartment while you're away, often entertaining friends and leaving behind a mess in her wake. the audacity she possesses to neglect simple chores like doing the dishes or tidying up after herself borders on infuriating, you’re fighting the urge to bodyslam her into the mattress sometimes. it's as though she expects the cleaning fairy to magically swoop in and restore order while you're left to pick up the pieces of her irresponsibility, maybe she thinks you’re the fucking cleaning fairy. 
living with her was hell, you don’t even know how she managed to keep up with her courses and stay sane with how she lived her life. she was a pretentious, sassy little thorn stuck in your skin. 
but still, there are two things that keep you tethered to the apartment, even if it's a bit embarrassing to admit on factor. one: the rent is cheaper, and your shared living space is nice. two: nayeon’s fucking hot. 
the truth is: nayeon is the epitome of physical allure, the hottest person you've ever laid eyes on. as much as you resent her for her shortcomings, you find yourself unable to ignore the pull of her undeniable visuals, which whispers against the urge to pack your bags and leave.  
you despised the stupid allure of her face, the way her figure teased and tempted, and the fact that she held the power to have you on your knees if she poked you in the right ways. it grated on your nerves to know that you weren't the only one drawn to her; half the campus seemed to be either enamored with her, aspiring to be her, or eager to get into her pants. and she wielded her beauty like a weapon, using her "pretty privilege" to her advantage.  
the feeling you had towards her was bitter, but the attraction you had made things complicated. 
it was easy to mask your little attraction for your pretentious roommate with annoyed comments and irritated glares, but deep inside you wanted her in ways that you could never admit out loud. countless daydreams and very questionable thoughts about her invaded your mind at the worst times possible, espeically when she was near. 
your irritation mixed with attraction was mutual. nayeon felt the same way about you; what a match. 
at first, nayeon found herself irritated by your stuck-up demeanor and seemingly perfect self. your involvement in various extracurricular activities, dedication to your studies, and honestly majoring in computer science major as a whole contributed to her initial impression of you as someone who had it all together. it was a stark contrast to her own carefree attitude and laid-back approach to everything, which built friction between the two of you. 
(nayeon could never do all of that, study for hours and keep her shit together. and god, especially watching you type for two hours straight already made her head swirl. how does someone do that without losing their shit? she wonders if you’re okay) 
from nayeon's perspective, you were nothing more than a stuck-up bitch in her shared home, always fussing over cleanliness like a relentless clean freak. it striked a nerve every time you scolded her for leaving behind a couple of dishes or a few stray bottles of alcohol. if it bothered you so much, why not just pick up after yourself instead of constantly complaining? 
despite the irritation you stirred within her, nayeon couldn't deny the undeniable truth: you were actually pretty cute for a nerdy, uptight roommate. in fact, she'd even go as far as to admit that you were pretty hot. 
nayeon has seen the people in the computer science department, most of them are men who look like they’ve never spoken to a woman or gone outside for more than thirty minutes a day. you on the other hand were quite the sight, someone nayeon would describe as “eye candy.” 
and yeah, she kind of overlooked the fact that you were her type after you had yelled at her so much, but then there was this one little moment that changed her mind. maybe she could tolerate you more. 
(maybe nayeon had to put looks first in this case.) 
-- 
-- 
some thursday afternoon, while you typically would be found either buried in books at the library or enjoying the afternoon at a café, nayeon found herself in a predicament—she couldn't find one of her favorite t-shirts. with frustration growing, she decided to take matters into her own hands and went into your room to see if it had somehow ended up there, given that you were supposed to be out.  
to her surprise, she discovered that you were most definitely home, a fact that caught her completely off guard—especially when you’re home in your room, in the middle of taking your pants off. 
she barges into your room to see you with your shirt off and the fly of your pants down, revealing some of the logo of your victoria’s secret underwear. your cheeks flush a dark hue of red when you realize she’s invaded your privacy, and you quickly cover your chest—which, is already covered since you have a bra on, but god is this whole situation embarrassing.  
after you literally push her out the door—slamming it shut with embarrassment—nayeon stands outside the door with a newfound interest.  
nayeon couldn't fathom that someone who dedicated their sanity to lines of numbers and letters on a screen could look so good. there was something mesmerizing about the subtle groove tracing down your stomach, hinting at the definition of your abs, or the glimpse of your bicep as you hastily covered yourself and scolded her for intruding, maybe even the hint of muscle on your shoulders. whatever it was—all nayeon knew was that the little mishap of you not locking the door and giving her the chance see you like that piqued her interest without doubt. 
and after seeing you half naked? the image of you, with your shirt off and the hint of your physique tantalizingly on display? holy shit you had her fantasizing a little (a lot) more than she already had been; she needed some of her fantasies to come true.  
your roommate had already been attentive to your quick—and evident—glances on her body and her lips. she also noted the subtle bite of your lips when she swayed by, your eyes barely caught her, but she noticed it all. getting her fantasies to become a reality seemed easy enough—probably—and she was determined to make it all happen.  
she knew she already had you starting to wrap around her finger, just by those observations, so it should be easy enough to get you hot and heavy, right? 
“oh look who’s finally fucking awake.” you mutter, turning around to see the hungover, marked up woman emerging from the hall.  
nayeon rolls her eyes at you like always and simply responds, “oh shut up, don’t be a drag.” 
“i’m a drag? i’m not the one barging in at one in the morning the same night my roommate stays up to actually do their school shit. not only that, but that fucking guy—” 
“was a terrible kisser,” nayeon cuts you off, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i kicked him out so can you please just—” 
“no!” you scoff, surprising nayeon with this burst of anger. you’re much more irritated than usual, which is weird. nayeon suspects that it’s because she’s never accidentally stumbled into your room, and to be fair; this was kind of intentional.  
you see, nayeon thought that if she could make you a little jealous, it’d increase the chances of you intervening. just what she wanted. 
“i couldn’t fucking sleep and i have a really important assessment today.” 
“yeah yeah, move over i need some tea.” nayeon says tiredly. upon hearing her response, you clench your jaw tightly and lean against the marble counter, gripping it with one hand tightly to suppress your annoyance. 
your roommate looks at you and a laugh slips out accidentally. after hearing that, there's probably a vein visible on your forehead, maybe your neck—somewhere. 
that was your last straw. 
angrily, you lift yourself off the counter and swiftly advance towards nayeon, pinning her against the fridge with force. the impact reverberates through her as her back meets the cold surface, while you lean in closer, your eyes narrowing with intensity.  
now, this should not be turning nayeon on—she’s going to blame it on her hangover and whatnot, and maybe the fact that whoever that guy was and whatever he did didn’t really satitate her—but it does.  
with barely an inch of space separating you, your height advantage allows you to tilt your head down, locking eyes with nayeon with a glare. the tension crackles between you like a firework, it’s thick and palpable, your look shows restrained anger. despite how furious you look, there's an unexpected allure to you, drawing nayeon in even as she senses the little reprimanding you’ll give her. 
“don’t give me that fucking attitude nayeon. you’re fucking unbelievable, you’re a fucking slut, you know?” 
“yeah?” she says, a smirk tugging at her pretty, plump lips.  
you feel your body tense as soon as you start to take in the proximity of the two of you. gulping lightly, you move yourself away just an inch, but nayeon pauses you, pinching your collar. 
“oh don’t get so timid now, you were just fuming earlier pretty.” she laughs. “keep going. this is cute, i like this. what did you call me again?” 
as nayeon's eyes flicker from yours to your lips and back again, the tension between you is like pushing down on a spring, and it’s about to pop back up any moment. sensing an opportunity, nayeon skillfully navigates her way out of the looming scolding, her allure becoming a potent weapon against your mood. she begins to weave her charm, coaxing a reluctant softening in your expression. despite your initial anger, you find yourself drawn to her, you can’t let yourself slip up, not now, not when she’s the reason you might fail your assessment. 
“you’re— you’re so... fucking irritating…” you mumble the last part of your sentence, voice getting smaller. you push yourself away from her and shake your head, trying to conceal your blush. nayeon giggles before going back to making her tea, the tension in the air like an invisible weight pressing down on you, and this whole morning might just completely flatten you down from how distracting it’ll be the whole day. 
nayeon’s relieved, at least you’re not scolding her while she dips her chamomile bag in and out her little mug of hot water. 
the day is filled with the events of the morning, with you struggling to finish various lines of code because the feeling of nayeon toying with your collar lingers, and nayeon trying to force the thought of you finally snapping in her head. 
seems like the two of you are trying to avoid the same thought, despite how badly you two want it. 
it's palpable that there’s something in the air that needs to be swatted away, and nayeon knows you’re too much of a coward to really do anything about it, so she’ll figure somethign out.  
one thing about im nayeon: she always gets her way, no questions asked, no matter what it takes. 
nayeon finds you on the couch typing away later that night, probably doing some homework. 
nayeon plops down next to you, intending to tease and push you over the edge. you turn your head after feeling the cushions under you shift, immediately grimacing once you see your roommate. 
“what do you want?” 
“what, i can’t sit next to my roommate?” nayeon questions, “i’m just going to watch tv, if you don’t like it you can leave.”  
“whore.” you mutter under your breath, quiet enough so she doesn’t catch what you say.  
your roommate lounges lazily on the couch and rests her head against the armrest. as she reclined, her hair spilled over, framing her face like a halo. nayeon's gaze wandered lazily around the room before settling on the tv, and with a languid movement, she turned to lay fully, bending her legs so they didn't intrude into your personal space. 
your jaw tensed, a visceral reaction to the sight before you. the light from the tv in the dimmed room accentuated the allure of nayeon's figure. you couldn't help but steal a glance, your attention momentarily torn away from your screen by the annoyingly captivating vision in your periphery. 
casual sweatpants adorned her figure, the looseness of the bottoms from brandy allowing for comfort yet teasingly hinting at the eye-catching curves of her terribly alluring figure beneath. the fit of her tank top—cropped just enough to expose a sliver of her toned midriff—effortlessly made your gaze linger. the fabric clung to her silhouette in all the right places, revealing the subtle contours that sent a subtle jolt through the room and your veins. you completely forgot about pretending to be irritated in that brief trance. 
the tank top, snug against her skin, revealed a gentle dip of her collarbone, an enticing invitation that you took note of. the image staying in your head even as your attention returned to your screen. a flush settled on your cheeks as you tried to focus again. the ambiance of the room, however, remained penetrated with the downplayed sensuality that lingered in the air. you huff lowly. she's winning whatever game this is without even trying. 
after typing at your laptop for a bit, you hear the faint sound of people talking in the background. you look up from the screen and see some show playing, then turn to see nayeon’s head turned toward the tv.  
shaking your head, you redirect your attention back to the assignment in front of you; the task is quite easy, but it’s insanely tedious and for some strange reason nayeon’s presence isn’t helping you. 
nayeon shifts on the couch and sits upright against the cushion, you don’t bat an eye. your roommate is sick of you being academic, she’s bored and wants your attention. needs it, maybe. 
“when’s that due?”  
without turning your head, you respond, “next week.” 
“why do it now?” 
“why do you care?” your tone is impatient. “and besides, it’s better to get things done earlier.” 
“nerd.” nayeon sighs. she scoots over and peers at your screen, putting her hand down beside you to prop herself up and when she leans over, her boob smushes against your arm a little.  
you glare at her. “aren’t you usually out? it’s a friday night.” 
she shrugs. “didn’t feel like it.” and after she scans the screen one more time, she leans away (to your dismay) and continues on with whatever drama she had been watching.  
the thought of her boob being smushed against you lingers, embarassingly it’s almost tattooed in your mind for the next half an hour. 
when you finish your assignment, that’s when you let out a big, hefty breath and close your laptop.  
nayeon's annoyingly melodic giggle dances in the air as you sink into the plush couch, surrendering to its embrace that eases the pain in your shoulders. after savoring your few seconds of tranquility, your thoughts drift to the comfort awaiting you in your bedroom, your bed, peace and quiet, being enveloped by the blanket.  
as you start to stand up, a delicate yet firm grip clings to your forearm, delaying your departure. nayeon's touch, like a sirens call, invites you to linger, gently coaxing you to stay a little longer. 
she bats her eyelashes at you. “stay here.”  
you brows knit. “why would i stay with you?”  
“watching shows alone is boring, and i know your ass isn’t going anywhere tonight.” 
you groan in response and decide to give in—you might as well lounge on the couch for a bit—earning a smug smile from your roommate. she unpauses her show and you allow yourself to ease into the cushion, then watch with her (against your will), only to immediately tense up at the scene that unravels before your eyes. 
two girls appear on screen, and they’re kissing each other.  
they’re close, kissing, and then fifteen seconds pass and boom—they’re eating each other’s mouths sloppily, groaning and everything, tongue and all. you shift in your seat when you feel a weird pulse down at your core. 
“y/n,” nayeon starts, “have you ever even kissed someone?” 
“of course i have.” you respond, crossing your arms.  
nayeon turns her head in surprise and tilts her head. “seriously?” 
“yes, is it that surprising?” 
“well, you’re always cooped up in the house and whatnot… didn’t think you had any game.” 
“i hooked up with someone last month for your information. i'm not a homebody.” 
“yeah? sure, you did.” she laughs, shaking her head. you roll your eyes at her. 
“fuck you.” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the tv and watching the two girls undress each other. “do you always watch shit like this?” 
“why, does it turn you on or something?” nayeon asks, shifting closer to you. a lump forms in your throat. 
you shoot a quick glare at her and lie, “no.” 
nayeon laughs in amusement after pink dusts your cheeks. “you seem pretty flustered baby.” 
what the fuck? 
as you meet her gaze, a wave of surprise washes over you, mirroring the hunger that burns in her eyes. nayeon's laughter tumbles from her lips, enchanting and playful, as she places her hand delicately on the couch. leaning towards you, she ignites a spark that makes your heart skip a beat. feeling a sudden urge to be closer, you subtly shift in your seat, captivated by the exhilarating simplicity of the moment and giving into nayeon’s intentions. 
“i don’t believe you.” she says. 
“what?” 
“you’ve never kissed someone, hell, like you could even fuck someone.” 
“excuse me?” 
she just laughs at the mix of emotions coming from you; your cheeks are dusted pink, but your tone and expression displays that regular irritated look of yours. 
then she bites the corner of her lip, finally easing into the reason she even bothered you in the first place. she leans a little closer, lips hovering near your ear lobe, and giggles again. 
“how about you prove that you’ve fucked someone, hm?” nayeon suggests, raising her brows. “that you even can.” 
your breath trembles slightly, you’re stiff in your place. 
“if it’ll shut you up then... fine.” 
she clicks her tongue, then pulls away from your ear. now she’s looking at you with a shit eating grin, you want to wipe it off her face. 
the air stilled, your breath shook, and nayeon’s hand inches to your forearm. her other hand grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling you in and your lips meet in the middle. 
she tastes like cherry, well, her lip gloss does. 
your hand finds its way to the back of her neck, pushing her deeper into you so your lips can hungrily slide and suck and gosh, everything, all of the above, both a and c, you name it. 
the last thing you had on your mind for the friday night was kissing your roommate aggressively. initially, you were just going to finish the assignment and take a nap or something, but this? it’s much better than what you had planned originally. 
nayeon practically takes your breath away after simply kissing you, just the way your lips lock makes you greedy. you groan accidentally, embarassed until you have nayeon groaning into you too, even louder for that matter. 
you pull away for a brief moment, voice a little shaky and out of breath. “is this why you bothered me? are you that horny that you wanted me to fuck you?” 
“oh shut up, it’s not like you’re against it.” nayeon’s right, you’re not. not in the slightest. 
“fuck you” is uttered from your lips before you crash your lips against her again, taking the air from her lungs again. 
the kissing quickly escalates and your tongues are in each other’s mouths. you’re both unashamedly moaning and groaning into each other carelessly, it’s funny how quickly everything escalated within seconds, the boundaries between whatever you two had dissolved like sugar in boiling water. you shift yourselves over so that nayeon is under you, both your knees on either side of her legs. you reach over for the remote to pause the two girls who were mirroring the two of you—well, the two of you started going at it after they did so maybe it was the two of you mirroring them. 
each subsequent kiss felt as electrifying as the crackle of sparks dancing in a bonfire. the more nayeon deepened the kiss the more it drove you crazy, irrationally enough to continue kissing her and slip your hands under her shirt. 
nayeon sighs blissfully as you kiss down her neck, her fingers tangle with your hair while she claws at it aggressively, and still, the pain from her grabbing your hair only turns you on more. 
“fuck,” she groans when you suck on her neck, sinking her nails into your tricep. 
“slut.” you mutter, smirking against her. “so easy to rile up.” 
unashamedly, nayeon begs and begs for you until you’re biting down on her skin, repeatedly uttering your name until you’re leaving marks that’ll have her friends wondering who ruined her this time—and this time, it’s not some person she’s run into at the bar while tipsy. 
still, she could get drunk just off of you. 
you start to undress her, starting with her top and taking a moment to gaze at her undeniably alluring figure. strands of hair just barely stick to her forehead as she gazes at you breathlessly with eyes full of lust. she moves her slender fingers to work at the edge of your shirt, urging you to take that stupid t-shirt you have on off so she can get a sight of your surprisingly exciting figure. maybe she’ll get a better, longer view of what she had seen that night she walked in on you changing. 
“fuck, why have you been hiding this?” she mutters, sliding her hand down your side. “god you fucking bitch.” 
“if i didn’t you’d be all over me, you fucking horny mess.” you spit back harshly, but the way you moan when nayeon latches her lips onto your neck completely rids of that fake, irritated tone of yours.  
nayeon ends up on top of you in a matter of seconds, thenyou’re groping her ass shamelessly as you two devour each other’s mouths again. hands tug at whatever else covers your bodies until it’s just the two of you skin to skin. everything that had just happened in the span of ten minutes was for sure ten times better than whatever else had been going on in the movie. 
you can feel her grinding desperately against your thigh as you kiss her, feeling the moisture from her needy cunt that dampens your once-dry upper leg. you palm her breasts blindly and feel her gasp against you, and then nayeon forgets how to breath when you press your thigh up and against her, adding more stimulus. 
she moans frustratedly, the feeling of just your thigh against her throbbing pussy is far from what she needs. so, she’s putting her hand on the middle of your chest and pushing you down to lay flat on your back. she bites her lip blatantly before lifting her hips away from your skin. 
you furrow your brows in confusion and begin, “what are you—” 
“shut up,” she grunts, shoving one hand in your head and gripping your hair so rough that you whimper. she shifts over so that her pussy is directly above your mouth and orders: “just eat, bitch.” 
this is something you can’t argue with her about, and fuck you’re hungry.  
there’s a meal waiting for you that you’ve been craving, you can’t just lay there and starve. 
eagerly, you lift your head up a bit to meet the aching in between her legs; she’s so wet and you’re definitely teasing her about this later—but who knows how long it will take until it’s later. 
she moans louder than ever and it surprises the both of you, it only leaves you wanting more of her, wanting to hear her when she’s at her limit. your nails sink into the flesh of her thigh as you devour ravenously, taking note of what makes her twitch more and what earns lewder noises. what earns noises that turn you on more than ever. 
it doesn’t surprise you how shameless she is during sex—clearly, she isn’t ashamed of seducing her roommate—the way she rides your face so desperately gives you enough to know how she is. 
nayeon likes when you suck on her clit, she grips your hair tighter with each “pop” sound that’s made after you release the suction. she’s easy to read, her cunt is easy to adjust to. 
“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” nayeon moans, leaning back little while she continues to ride, head tilted back and face almost parallel to the ceiling. “god-- fuck, oh my—shit, keep going,” 
you can see her tits from your view, nipples all perked up while you grip onto her thighs tighter, feeling her shake in your grasp.  
nayeon's like an alarm clock, ticking and ticking away until the alarm rings, her cry echoing through the room, hand gripping at your hair tighter than ever as her head falls back. you continue to savor her arousal even after she came, earning little whines and whispers of your name. 
“oh, y/n, just like that...”  
you're doing all the work now, which only helps with your aversion towards her, but still, you’ve made her moan, cry—all of the above, so at least there’s something to use against her. 
and then she lifts herself off of you, letting your head rest back against the seat of the couch so you can catch your breath.  
when she looks down, all she can make out through fuzzy vision and overwhelmed senses is the puff of your lips, hooded eyes, and fucked up hair; everything about the sight of you is a product of her desires, a fantasy that’s been lingering in her mind now come true. 
“slut,” you mutter, almost breathlessly. “you’re really loud, you know.”  
“fuck you.” 
“already did.” you retort, giggling. “let’s go for another.” 
“oh so now look who’s a horny mess.” nayeon responds, moving over to sit on your lap. 
you sit up, holding yourself up with your hands placed behind you. “you just never shut up, do you?” 
nayeon smiles before tracing her finger along your skin. “do you me want to?” 
you look at her amusingly before shifting positions so she’s laying down flat on her back, with you hovering above. the two of you kiss again, nayeon savoring a the traces of arousal off you, a muffled hum of delight vibrating against your locked lips. 
she pulls away, thumbing your nipple and making you groan surprisingly. you pull away to glare at her. 
nayeon laughs, “wow, you’re so--” 
you cut her off by shoving your ring and middle finger in her mouth, she almost gags, but the way she sucks obediently is enough to tell you that she’s enjoying this. 
“you just never shut up,”  
in response, she moans with your fingers still in your mouth, right before you pull them out, skin coated with her saliva. 
you bring your fingers down to her cunt, teasing her folds. 
“let’s change that.” 
527 notes · View notes
shotmrmiller · 5 months
Text
Tormented by a Ghost
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
TW: small mention of smut and simon being kinda mean
TY TO MY BETA FOR MAKING THIS 10X BETTER @c-h-a-r-n-i-k
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Tired of living with your family, you decide to move out. There's just one problem— Rent is too costly to afford on your own. You complain about it to your friend, and they tell you that they know someone who's also looking for a roommate and preferably another female. Fantastic!
Your friend gives you her number and ya'll are moving in together by the end of the month. It was great. No nagging parents, no micromanagement, nothing. You loved it. Until your roommate brings her man over. And he's a fucking bully.
--
You're crawling home from a hard day at work, and you want nothing more than some wine on a quiet night. Unlocking the door, you step into the flat. The lights aren't turned on so you assume your roommate isn't home.
Dumping your bag in your room, you make a beeline towards the kitchen. As you're bent over in the fridge, your roommate's door opens.
"Hey,” you call out, "I'm pourin' myself a glass of wine if you're interested!"
Then an assertive, baritone voice speaks from behind you.
"You must be the roommate."
You give an ear-piercing scream as you jump, whipping around to face him with a hand over your racing heart.
"Fuckin' hell! No, it's okay, I don't need my hearin' er nothin'." he scolds.
"What the fuck! I almost flat-lined with my head in the fridge because of you!"
Then you get a good look at him. This monster of a man is a minimum 6'3, with a black balaclava covering his face, a black long-sleeve shirt, and grey sweats. You tried real hard to not ogle the tattoo that stains his exposed left arm. And the grey sweats, we all know why. Cursed be your fetish for thick forearms and big hands.
He leans his head back, looking down his nose at you.
"I think it'd be an improvement," he says, "You face down, I mean," and your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline as he chuckles.
You don't know who he thinks he is, talking to you—a complete stranger— like that but you aren't about to take his shit.
You sneer. "Fuck you. Yeah, I bet that's the view you get the most. Women willingly turn away to not get a look at your mug. Did my roommate ask you to put that mask on so she could face you during sex?"
He steps forward, his height allowing him to tower over you, and growls out, "You callin' me ugly?"
Smirking, you roll your eyes. Of course.
"I don't see any other reason for you to hide your face. Not that it matters to me— I'm not the one that has to tolerate it."
His eyes squint at you as he retorts, "I'm quite the opposite."
Opening your mouth, you're about to tell him that he can say whatever helps him sleep at night when your roommate calls out to the big brute in front of you.
"Ghost? What's taking so long?" she asks.
You tried and failed miserably to hide your mocking giggle at hearing his name, and he leers at you in response. "Go on, Ghost. You're being called back into the realm of the dead."
As he steps away, he says with contempt, "Dumb little bird doesn't know what she's talking about," before walking over to your roommate, looping his arm around her shoulders and going into her room.
He probably doesn't even know your name and he laid into you like he's hated you his whole life. After pouring yourself a glass of wine, you shake your head and walk towards your bedroom. Freak.
--
One day, after having your friend with benefits over in the morning for some nice stress relief, you walk him out. And fucking Ghost is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. You quickly shuffle your friend out the door, face glowing with embarrassment.
Why was he here? Jesus Christ, now he's going to watch you do the walk of shame around the flat. Hopefully, he won't say anything. As you walk away from the door to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, Ghost speaks up.
"Well, that was pathetic."
You hang your head and close your eyes in resignation. Should've known someone as toxic as he wouldn't mind his own goddamn business.
"What now, Ghost?"
He sounds oddly smug as he says, "I've been here for a couple of hours, and I didn't hear anything coming out of your room. Sounds like he doesn't know what to do with a cunt."
Behind gritted teeth, you grind out, "Don't worry about my pussy, bud. You've got yours coming in," and you hold the n as you look at your watch, "30 minutes. Now piss off."
As you stomp away towards your room, the bottle of water all but forgotten, you hear him let out a deep chuckle. He's an asshole. A physically attractive one, sans the face, but still an asshole. You're going to have to get your friend to come over more often if Ghost is going to continue being around with those jacked arms and deliciously tight grey sweats.
Sucking your teeth, you make a mental note to ask your roommate why she gave him a key to your shared flat without asking.
--
A week later, your roommate has Ghost over and you figure it'd be a good time to get some action yourself. You send him a text and in less than 20 minutes, you're letting him in. Hugging him, you tell him to go to the bedroom. But he's not paying attention to you— he's looking directly behind you.
Turning around to look, it's Ghost. Goddamn it. And this time he's shirtless with his arms crossed and a skull mask on. God fucking damn it. Pulling the arm of your friend, he looks down at you and you tell him to go on, that you'll be there soon.
He nods, walking away with one last look at the phantom leaning against your roommate's door. Exhaling a ragged sigh, you turn back to Ghost.
"Can I help you?"
He shakes his head mutely before responding, "No, lovie, but I can help you." You shake your head at his nonsense.
"No. I'm not doing this with you."
You turn to walk away when he speaks again.
"Yer really gonna let him touch you again? He clearly doesn't know what he's doing— Bedroom's silent as a crypt. Even with those glasses he's got on, he can't find what he should be lookin' for."
Insulted for your friend, you face Ghost with a disbelieving look on your face.
"You're not seriously standing here trying to cockblock me. You—" his audacity has you stammering, "You have no idea what I'm like. Maybe I'm just naturally quiet in bed."
Ghost stares at you for a solid minute before he shrugs and goes back to your roommate.
Unbelievable asshole. Why does he have to look so good shirtless, the berk.
--
You start noticing that Ghost is there a couple of hours before your roommate gets there and you'd think it's weird if you weren't too busy being distracted by the fact that he's always taunting you one way or the other. And then one day, you question him on it.
"You do know your girlfriend won't be home until the evening? It's barely 3."
Ghost turns his head from the TV to look at you and grunts.
"Not my girlfriend." That's news to you.
"Then why you spendin' so much time over here? You're gonna have me thinkin' you like spending time in my delightful presence." you banter with a teasing smile.
Ghost continues to stare at you and the heated look in his eyes confuses you but then he turns back to the TV.
"I can't stand ya, ya daft bint."
You pretend you don't hear the muted tenderness in his voice.
--
And on a sunny day, it all comes crashing down. The boys are over again, but this time Ghost is boring holes into the back of your head as you both go into your respective rooms. You're straddling your boy's hips shirtless when you hear your roommate's furious yelling from the other side of the flat and then stomping towards the front door before it slams closed.
After your bedroom door is busted open, the bolt being broken out of the faceplate from the brutal strength behind the force— and you're jumping off the bed and crossing your arms over your exposed chest.
It's Ghost and he's staring directly at your friend on the bed.
"No." He stomps over to grab your friend by his shirt and drags him off the bed and towards the front door before tossing him against it with a nasty-sounding slam.
"Get the fuck out."
Your friend is spluttering when Ghost cuts him off.
"If I see you here again, I'm turnin’ those silly little glasses," and he taps a lens with his finger, "into contacts. Now get the fuck out. I won't repeat myself." And with that, he trips over his own feet running out the door.
You're standing in the living room. eyes are wide in disbelief. What just happened? There's a moment of silence before Ghost breaks it.
"Your roommate won't be coming back today." He walks over to you picks you up to sit you on the kitchen countertop and lifts his mask over his mouth.
"Now. You're going to come on my tongue before I fuck you and personally test out this 'I'm quiet' theory, pet." You look down at him and sigh.
"I think I'm gonna need a new roommate," you lament.
Pulling the gusset of your knickers to the side, he says, "Don't worry your pretty little head over that. I'll be moving in with you. Also, no. You don't have a choice."
He digs his fingers into your thigh and purrs against your skin, “If you find it in you to scream, my real name’s Simon.” 
And with the way his usually sharp tongue delicately rubs against your clit, you can't find it in you to argue.
A/N: dreamt of this and it had me in a chokehold.
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xiao-come-home · 8 months
Text
❝Uncurable disease... or so they say.❞
┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓
✰ Characters: Neuvillette.
✰ Words: 1k.
✰ SFW ; gn!reader, no mentions of pronouns, but neuvillette uses female pet name towards the reader, I think.
Warnings: slight hurt, but then a lot of comfort. neuvi doesnt know how confessing works and does it his own way.
A/N: NEUVILLETTE BRAINROT NEUVILLETTE BRAINROTKORFKKTGOID GRRRRRR it was supposed to short but oh well 1k words hehe shy emoji
┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛
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“You make me ill.”
Neuvillette’s words pierce through your heart like daggers. His orchid eyes stare you down and indicate absolutely nothing; his sudden confession left you in a circle between shock and confusion.
The words spread throughout your body like poison, but in reality you’re only staring back at him. The hurt starts to become visible on your face, but your mouth seems to be unable to let out a noise; yet, the voice in your head yells and begs to know the answer as to why.
You clutch the rainbow rose he brought you close to your chest, being the first to take your eyes off him. You look at the ground, feeling the familiar clump in your throat that starts to form.
Neuvillette has been feeling sick as of late. Or at least, that’s what he thought - well, what else could explain that he feels his temperature rise, his heart beating so fast it could escape his chest, making even his voice tremble? “No, this cannot be-“ Neuvillette thought frantically, massaging his temples, “It’s time for a professional to evaluate.”
Though, as expected - the doctor was of no help. She giggled to herself, “I apologize, monsieur Neuvillette, I’m afraid I can’t help in this case. I can assure you however, you’re perfectly healthy.” The chief of justice felt the uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment, but thanked the doctor and left the room.
After yet another trial where Neuvillette seemed to be somewhere else with his thoughts, Furina confronted him with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. The white haired man could only mutter a thing, that he does not feel well; at the sound of his pathetic excuse, Furina stood up from her seat furiously, throwing her hands in the air, “You aren’t sick, fool! You’re in love!”The hydro archon’s cheeks flushed a slight pink at her own statement, but she was no match for her subordinate; she pushed the sudden bashfulness away, “n-now, do something about it immediately! I will not tolerate it in the courtroom any longer!” Furina crossed her arms and sat down again, furrowing her brows and watching the empty seats below her.
Seeing you divert your eyes away, Neuvillette’s expression softened significantly, his line of sight mimicking yours and shifting to a nearby bench.
“Why?”
Neuvillette blinks quickly, his eyelashes batting at you in surprise, “Come again? What do you mean?”
“Why do you hate me?”
He could feel the boiling hot feeling spreading through his body, although not a pleasant one. His eyes widened at you and his lips parted ever so slightly - but Neuvillette could only hear his heart beating so fast, beating to the rhythm of worry and uncertainty.
Before he could react properly, he saw a small tear dripping down your cheek, onto the cold pavement.
But his body moved without thinking.
He cups your cheeks gently with his gloved hands and moves your head up, just enough so you could look at him. His thumbs wipe your tears off your face, sighing deeply and finally speaking the real deal.
“You… make my heart race. It beats ungodly fast whenever I lay my eyes on you. You’ve been occupying my thoughts for many months, and even if I try to think about anything else - I cannot bring myself to do it, because it all comes back to you. I can’t… stop thinking about you, I can’t stop myself from admiring your ravishing beauty, I want you-“
“Wait!” You yell just enough to make him stop, both of you avoiding each other’s gazes and blushing bright red, but his hands stayed firmly on your face, no longer drying off tears, but caressing the apples of your cheeks he gently, “if that’s how you feel, then why…? Why did you say it like that?” For what it feels like first time in forever, you look into his gorgeous eyes that resemble the finest amethyst.
“I… I apologize, I didn’t want you to misunderstand me,” Neuvillette gasps slightly when he feels your delicate palms on his own hands, “but I truly mean it - I…”
Your breath hitches in your throat; the butterflies in your stomach don’t seem to help, but the anticipation has you almost shaking.
“I love you.”
Neuvillette can’t describe the weight that’s been lifted off his shoulders; but the sinking sensation in his stomach of not knowing what will happen next is making him nervous more than anything. When more tears meet his hands yet again, he fears for the worst.
“It’s alright, please do not shed any more tears because of me. I’m happy enough to have said it,” except, he doesn’t. He feels his heart break in half, getting filled by nothing but a void of emptiness.
The clouds become gloomy - looks like it’s going to rain later.
Just as his hands slide down and he begins to turn away, you reach out for his arm and grab it, causing him to spare you one, last look.
“Wait! I’m sorry, don’t go… I love you too, silly.” You manage to murmur the last few words loud enough that he could hear.
Neuvillette can’t believe it’s actually happening. He appears stunned for a minute, watching you in disbelief, but then a genuine smile graces his lips; his hands play with your fingers and silently ask to be intertwined with yours. When your interlaced hands give him a small squeeze, he gives you the softest, most lovesick look with his eyes that no one could ever imagine.
He places a quick kiss on your forehead and leans against it. Neuvillette’s eyes close for a moment, absorbing the fleeting moment.
It doesn’t take long before the chief of justice pushes your chin up with his fingers, his thumb brushing your lower lip, awaiting for your answer, “Can I, ma chérie?”
It only takes seconds for him to finally lock your lips together, and he wishes to feel that tenderness forever from this day forward.
Neuvillette certainly has to learn a bit more about expressing feelings - now, with your help.
The golden sun returns to adorn the clear skies once more.
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thesuperiorrobin · 8 months
Text
𝐈𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥~
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Pairing: Husband!Damian Wayne x Wife!Reader
Word count: 759
Warning: suggestive at the very end
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People know you and Damian belong together, no doubt about it. With making your relationship public and years later your marriage, which was also the talking gossip around Gotham for a month or two, everyone knows. But some people are too stubborn to the fact, you learn that very early in your relationship when women would just throw themselves at your lover's arm clinging to him as he tries to pray them off with an annoying expression, thinking that the son of Bruce Wayne would have the same Playboy persona just like his father, but they’re wrong forgetting the Damian Wayne is in fact, the most loyal man when it had came down to your dating and now marriage.
He would rather be with you than any other woman on earth, and for some, it was hard to face reality. You’re grown used to it over the years. But sometimes it just grows a spark inside of you. Much like tonight, in the Wayne manor that now belongs to the two of you. After Bruce’s retirement, it’s now Damian’s job to throw those galas and charity events, much to his dismay.
Secretly you do the work because he wasn’t given the gift of organization at all. So now you stand back, watching everyone. Happy with the way the nights going as you sip on your glass of champagne, it’s different front the rest. Damian thinks you deserve better than the champagne and wine that’s given out to the others. You spot his brothers in the crowd and other familiar faces that belong to a few close friends. The last face you spot was your husband, chatting away with men from his workplace. A forced smile on his face. It makes you chuckle, as a kid he hated them, and even as an adult he still does. But it’s more tolerable, well kinda.
You spot a random woman stumbling towards the ground of men, obviously sober as she tries to act intoxicated for the hell of it. She leaps for Damian’s arm that’s on his side, ignoring the one that holds his drink. He doesn’t shake her off, instead, he lets out a fake laugh along with the others around him.
That’s new you thought.
This went on for more than ten minutes which was a surprise. Normally it would’ve taken him less than five to shake them off, but instead, he’s standing there letting it happen. Which was a surprise. They’re having conversations, sometimes other people would chime in here and there.
Damian says something you can’t hear, and the woman laughs, giggling loudly to the point where you can hear her from the other side of the room. She laughs like it was the funniest thing she’s heard all night.
The horrendous laughter dies down, and she stares. Directly at you. She stares at you with a sly grin that paints her red lips. You frown and glare, gripping your glass. Almost breaking it until one of the servants comes up to you and offers you another drink, which you gladly take without a second thought.
The glare you send is hard, most people can sense it, the chilling aura that spills from you. Damian’s quick to sense it, he’s good at it, with a quick look towards you as you stare down at his arm— he gives you a genuine grin. He shakes off the women.
“Apologies. My presence is needed elsewhere” he gives a side eye down “with my wife” The woman was not happy, pouting as he watched her target leave her sight. But she puts on a facade and leaves, probably off to find another arm to cling on.
There’s a shit-eating grin plaster on his face when he walks up to you, and all you could do is roll your eyes—taking a big sip out of your drink in your hand.
“Zawjati?” he called out “Why are you here all by yourself?”
“You just seemed a little busy with your groups of friends” you hum “I didn’t want to ruin it”
The grin on his face softens, arm stretched out towards you, and you take his warm hand without a second thought. “Don’t be jealous” he chuckles “Everyone knows I’m all yours”
“Why would I be jealous?” You scuff, he was right but you would never admit that to his face. You lean into him closer, bringing him down to your level—lips brushing up against his ear “When I’m the one that ends up taking you straight to the bedroom right after every time”
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lulumilkshake · 9 months
Text
is drunk gojo the best gojo?
pairings: g. satoru x reader
a/n: ugh im finally writing again lol
warnings: suggestive, mentions of alcohol obviously, references of my previous writing that you can read here before hand if you like, also this is lowk not proofread lmaoo
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gojo satoru who comes home at 2 am after an event at jujutsu high, drunk out of his mind. he was sooo bored since you didn’t go with him that he even decided to get drunk with nanami and shoko (gojo being the only drunk one in that situation).
getting drunk was better then entertaining elders, right? not for you!
“b-baby..!” you hear him slur out, causing you to shut off the tv and rush into the kitchen from the living room.
you let out a soft sigh, eye twitching slightly as you look at the ridiculously attractive man in front of you: who was now undressing.
“aaahhh there’s my..” he pauses for a second, cheeks slightly puffed out as he struggles with the button of his blue shirt.
“there’s my beautiful wife… c’mon let’s cuddle n.. fuck..” he says with a slight giggle at the end as he walks over to you, leaning in for a kiss and hug but stumbling on top of you in the process.
with gojo attached to your side, you walk over to the fridge, struggling with every step as you grab a bottle of water for him to drink.
“now whose idea was it to have you drink..?” you mumble to yourself when you catch his 6’3 figure as he trips, slightly struggling to hold him up while he makes kissy lips towards you, water spilling on you during the process.
gojo was a horrible drunk. he had no tolerance for alcohol, period. and if he did drink, one glass was enough to get him drunk.
for the most part, he would choose not to drink at all; hating the bitter taste, so you’re a bit surprised when he came home tonight: extremely intoxicated.
“it was sooo boring without you sugar.. i had nothing better to do! please don’t be mad at me..” you feel him slightly sniffle into your nape. if you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he was actually crying, but you’ve been through this with him before. he was also a very overdramatic drunk..
“okay you big baby.. let’s get you dressed and we can cuddle in bed, okay?” you reply with a soft tone of voice, giving into his antics and reassuring him sweetly.
“and fuck?” he asks with blue glossy puppy dog eyes, trying to seduce you as best as he could. he knew you were almost immune to them at this point though.
you roll your eyes slightly as you avert your gaze from him, feeling your face slightly get hot but not wanting to give in to his drunk self. “tomorrow.”
(the last time you had sex with him drunk he just dry humped you thinking he was inside of you.)
he sighs dramatically, lifting his head up from your neck as he fully pulls off his black sunglasses before putting on a large smile on his face, “i’ll take it!”
he chuckles like a loud hyena as he drunk-walks with you, slightly poking your cheek at every step you take. if it was possible for him to get any more obnoxious, it would be right now.
“you know just because i’m..” you groan out annoyed, holding most of his body weight on your shoulder as you try to propel him up the stairs, but he was too focused on poking and squeezing you. “..helping you up the stairs doesn’t mean your legs are paralyzed.”
he lets out another obnoxious laugh making you glare at him, as if you were waiting for a dumbass response.“you’re so sexy when you struggle thou-“
he’s cut off suddenly when you drop him on the stairs, making him cry out theatrically. you let out a little “oops!” in response causing him to wail in “pain”.
“it was a compliment! i could’ve died from that you know!” he whines out exaggerating his movements as he grabs at your ankles, squeezing them like he was begging for you to help him up.
“awh.. but you look so sexy when you struggle though!” you respond teasingly with a cute pout as you chuckle at his reaction, patting his head and cooing at him, his brows furrowing while he stares up at you. you get your little laugh in then slightly bend down to help pick him up from his spot on the stairs.
“yeah, i know.” he grumbles out with a sour tone of voice, as if he was testing the waters. you lightly loosen your grip on him causing him to have ptsd for a quick second, making him whine “no please” and “i’m sorry baby”.
at last, you finally manage to bring him up the stairs of your shared penthouse, releasing your grip on his shoulder and bicep, and letting out a soft sigh.
“and you’re lucky you’re hot..” he whispered silently, thinking only he could hear himself, but thanks to the alcohol senses are all erratic.
“what was that, hm? don’t forget you’re still in front of the staircase.” you spoke with a wicked tone of voice, making the strongest feel the weakest under your intense motherly stare.
“y-yes ma’am.. sorry..” he stares down at the floor ashamed, as he reluctantly avoids your gaze. you were doing your best to take care of him and maybe he was taking advantage of the situation.
you let out another exhausted sigh, pressing your chest against his bicep, and pulling him to the bedroom. laying back on the bed, you emit a soft moan; feeling the soft warmth of the white comforter on your skin. (gojo wants this to be a porno scene so bad btw)
“you temptin’ me?” he questions with a slight drunk cocky smirk, leaning over to whisper in your ear. he slightly unbuckles his belt on his black slacks with one hand, staring down at you with hungry eyes as the other hand goes to cup your cheek. you were surprised he actually managed to get his pants off this time!
“s-satoru.. it’s too late baby..” you mumble out, your words coming out more as a moan since you find yourself melting into his touch. he lightly kisses at your neck, making you whine at every touch of your body he makes.
while kissing him back passionately, you taste a mixture of alcohol and sugar on his tongue. every slight pant of his name just urged him to continue even more. he slid his hands through your shirt; cupping your breasts with his warm hands causing you to moan softly.
he lifts up your shirt fully and latches the bud of your nipple into his mouth as he cups your cunt through your shorts. you were gripping at his snow-white hair, pleasure filling your veins, before you hear soft snores fill your ears.
wait.
“oh my god.” you gasp under your breath at the sight, snorting loudly as you look at him fully passed out on your chest. he still had your nipple latched in his mouth, hand still cupped on your shorts as he’s fully fast asleep. the view itself.. was honestly better then sex..
seeing this sight.. no, being able to make fun of him with this sight, is the best thing you could ever ask for.
you smile devilishly as you grab your phone through your pocket, opening your camera. you snapped the photo of the blessed sight, thinking of ways you were gonna make fun of him for it in the morning..
“oh you’re in for a long ride tomorrow pretty boy.. the hangover isn’t gonna be the only thing hurtin..”
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bonus! (references of my last writing read here if you don’t understand!)
“ughh baby… my hangover is killing me here!” your overly dramatic husband groans out as he hugs against your body, rubbing his head against your plush chest as a stress reliever.
“mm.. it’s what you get for trying to have a “drinking challenge” with shoko and nanami of all people.” you hum slightly as you play with his hair, scratching his undercut just how he likes it.
gojo nods contently in response before looking back at you with a slight confused expression, “how’d you find out? shoko told you? snitch.. she always tries to make me look so uncool..”
your lips curve into a slight smile as you giggle sweetly at the slight slur of shoko’s name. “oh honey.. i already saw the most uncool side of you last night anyways.”
“eh?” he tilts his head with a dumbfound expression as he watches you shut off your phone, staring up to realize you have an extremely evil smile on your face, one that makes him tremble in fear.
as the click of you opening your phone catches his attention, he gapes at the sight of your wallpaper. the photo you took of him last night.. with your nip-
“what the fuck is that?” his eyes widen as his tone is stern while he stares at the wallpaper dumbfounded, then back at you. he tries to grab the phone from your grasp friskily, his ego crushing more and more at every movement. “delete that right now.”
you let out a loud snicker as you move the phone around his hands so he can’t grasp it easily. before you could speak again he pins you against the bed, your hands above your head.
“i’m not deleting it unless you delete that whipped cream photo. that was payback, pervert.” you stick your tongue out at him while you stare at his playful annoyed facial expression.
“no way! that whipped cream photo was a rare gem. besides, it’s my number one go-to photo when i jerk off during overseas miss-“ he’s cut off once more, letting you flip him over so your now on top of him as you cover his mouth with your palm.
“that’s why I’m not deleting my rare gem either! how often is the strongest sooo vulnerable towards me that he’d pass out on top of me with my nipple in his-“
“don’t you dare finish that sentence.” he cuts you off as his brows furrow deeper, making you cackle in his palm.
“i could sue you for taking a photo of me unconsensually by the way!” oh he was a big fat hypocrite.
“..so could i, satoru..” you mutter out slightly tilting your head at his stupidly cute words.
“oh. yeah.”
he puts a hand on his chin stroking it for a long second as you get off of on top of him and plop down next to him, staring at him lovingly as you both start laughing with each other. it was dumb moments like this that really made you realize that you both loved each other so much, and would do anything for each other. you both were just two idiots in love.
“i’m still not deleting the whipped cream photo.”
“and i’m still not deleting my submissive drunk satoru photo.”
gojo groans out as he pulls you on top of him again, the sexual tension that has been filling the room from the start finally breaking.
“we should end arguments fucking more often.. y’know?” he pants out as he breaks the kiss with another stupid comment causing you to kiss him back for more, eagerly.
“don’t ruin the moment, again.”
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a/n: sorry ive literally been sooo lazy to write but season 2 got me a lil bit more excited lol! hope u enjoyed this 💕💕
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reidsqlick · 2 months
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You’ll be back, right? || (S.R)
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pairing(s): Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
summary: Spencer and you had been close friends, but due to an unexpected, sudden reason that friendship had fallen through, and led to what seems to be a rivalry.. what happens when you confront him of this?
warning(s): (MDNI 18+), softdom!spencer, unprotected sex, p in v, swearing, I don’t believe there’s any more but if there is please enlighten me 💔💔.
word count: 3,7k
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Working for the FBI was a challenge, everyone who looked into the FBI, or had been an agent would tell you the same. As an agent, you’ve definitely come close to death many times throughout your career, you had known that’s what came with the job, and you more than ready for that. You were quite honestly ready for whatever this job could bring your way. Ready to tackle each obstacle with such ease, so much to the point you didn’t even care what could be thrown your way.
That’s what you thought until you had met Dr. Spencer Reid. Being transferred to this unit of yours was something you had no issue doing. Ready for whatever it brought you, whatever new challenges this career brought you. Nothing, and I mean nothing was going to get in the way of that mindset of yours you were so, ultimately set on.
Unfortunately, that mindset hadn’t met Spencer Walter Reid. The genius of the BAU. Mr. “187 IQ”. Once a twenty-four year old kid prodigy who knew more than most at that age. Now, obviously not twenty-four, and not quite a ‘kid prodigy’ anymore.
The man had gotten on your nerves since the day he chose his ego over you. Not cause he was necessarily a bad guy, he was actually friends with you. However, the shit that got on your nerves was the fact he was open about disliking you, his ego slowly becoming more important than your friendship sometime during your duration of working there.
Forever you thought about what you had done. At first, you two were oh so close, as close as one can get with Reid, at the time he at least could have tolerate saying more than at minimum, five word sentences to you in passing, or because Hotch had asked you two to pair up to go check things out.
He always teased you at work. Either making some snide comment about your intelligence, or critiquing the way you had gotten your part of the job done. God, it was aggravating to say the least. With each snide comment that was said in passing, the more he pissed you off.
You really hadn’t hated him. You had hated the way he was so rude towards you. You truly never got it, never understood how he could be so nice to you when you had joined, talking to you more than a friend should, but, hey.. he probably talked to everyone like that, right?
One day it snapped. He just… started being an absolute piss poor son of a bitch who couldn’t get enough of himself. Wafting in every comment of some girl on a case in passing, it stroking his ego. God, the man was so aggravating in every way possible. You just couldn’t understand what changed with him.
Yeah, okay. If we’re being honest with one another, I liked him, okay? I more than liked him. I kind of slightly loved him. When I first joined the unit, I had clicked with him the most. It was almost instant. Your shared love for ‘Doctor who’, and books. Most of all, you listened to him ramble. Not many do that, and when they do they always tease him for it.
Now he’s teasing you? Jesus, you couldn’t get over it. The man you once let into your heart, expressed your interests to him, let you be yourself around him, becoming such an asshat. That was beyond what you could’ve expected. Especially since it was so out of the blue.
Life is very against you as of late. You and the team are out on a case in Boston, where you’ll have to be staying in one of the “lovely” hotels there. The issue is that the team actually had gotten done with the case early. The hotel had been booked for a whole extra day.
So, due to Penelope Nagging Hotch so much to the point he actually gave in, you’re all going drinking. The hotel bar, obviously. Can’t stray too far from one another, yes we’re all FBI agents, but… safety first, always.
You weren’t one for drinking if you were honest, but it was a team thing, so you’d go. This case had ended up being much more stressful than it let off, and you kind of needed to cool off, and with the people you considered family.
You hadn’t dressed up, Jesus, no. Never. You aren’t one for dressing up. Yeah, you’re feminine.. just, sometimes dresses aren’t the comfiest, that’s one. Two, for fucks sake.. this is a hotel bar. It’s truly not serious enough to dress up for.
Just your leisure wear you brought, jeans, and a t-shirt. Don’t even get me started on the “Pick me” or “You’re so basic” shit, it’s just leisure wear, at a hotel bar. Fuck if I care, I’ll dress how I please.
Leaving your hotel room, you walk up to the elevator, pressing the ‘down’ arrow. Awaiting the elevator, to your surprise the one and only Spencer Walter Reid decided to waltz to catch it as well. Jesus Christ. He’s really not one for drinking. I know I’m not one for drinking, but he isn’t last time I checked.
The elevator dung open, and you stepped in, Spencer walking in behind you. You click the ‘one’, and wait for this ride to be over. You look around, trying to ignore the fact he was here. You look over at him for, what? A split second, and he catches your eyes.
Fuck. That was accidental… oh, what? He’s still wearing his suit. Jesus, you’d think the man would get into something more comfortable, yet… he’s Spencer Reid. He’s not getting more comfy than this.
Shit, this elevator ride is longer than you remembered it being. Yeah, you were on the twelveth floor, but why is it taking so long. You speak up, hating the silence. Might as well embarrass yourself more than you already had, mhm. Great fucking idea!
“Didn’t take you as much of a drinker, Boygenius.” You said, loud enough for him to hear you, but not quite loud at all. “You don’t know me, (Y/LN). You can’t ‘take’ me as much of anything.” He said, obviously annoyed. Shit.. why’d he have to be such an asswipe about everything he did. Jesus Christ you can’t say anything anymore, can you?
“Actually I do-“ he cut you off, “You do not know me. You think you know me, and I hate to break it to you, but you don’t know me. Don’t know why you somehow think cause we were close years ago when you first started working here, that you know anything. You don’t know me enough to classify me as a drinker, that’s one. Even if I wasn’t before, people change (Y/LN).”
Before you could even add, you were disrupted by the ding of the elevator. Thank god. But, seriously? Where does he think he gets off? You both leave the elevator, him in-front of you now. Walking to the bar, you were greeted by the rest of your team. Penelope enveloping you in one of her hugs.
Chatter between the team had went on for an hour or two, you hadn’t gotten drunk, but you were… tipsy to say the least. You really, seriously weren’t one for drinking, but Spencer being there, and his snarky ass comments from earlier truly set you off. You decide it’s better to go to your room before you get shit-faced drunk, so you say your ‘goodbyes’ to the rest of the team.
Pen pulled you aside, “Hun.. what’s up? You’ve barely spoken a word tonight. You’re just away from us, the group. Did we.. do something on the case that we missed? I can make someone apologize, cause (Y/LN)… I’m not gonna let stuff like that slide-“ you just sit silent. Giving her that look.
She looked confused. “(Y/N).. who,” you cut her off “Spencer. It’s nothing. Just.. we got on the elevator together and it got awkward again. Pen, you’re so lucky I love the rest of you cause I’d have already left cause of Spencer ‘I’ve got a stick in my ass’ Reid.” She and I chuckled.
She nodded, waving you goodbye. Telling the rest of the team about your departure for the night. You left the bar, walking towards the elevator, and clicking the ‘up’ arrow. It dinged not too long after, you entered, and clicked number twelve. As the doors were close to shutting, a hand came between them, forcing them to open back up.
Cause life hates me, who else could it possibly be except Spencer goddamn Reid? Jesus. Why’d we have to leave at the same time, why’d we have to get stuck in the same elevator again!? The ride was silent, well… for a while it was, until he decided it was just lovely to open his mouth, yeah this is just what you needed right now after your previous six drinks.
“Didn’t take you for much of a drinker, either (Y/L/N).” He chuckled, opening up the topic of conversation started just hours ago. “Hah, very funny Reid, I’m really not one.” He shrugged. “No? You didn’t sit at the bar and consume six too many drinks? That wasn’t you? Guess I’m imagining someone else as you.”
You sighed, staying silent. Not wanting to speak to him anymore than you already have tonight. You’re intoxicated, scratch that, you were more than intoxicated, and this really is NOT the proper setting for this. “Don’t wanna talk? Oh, wait.. you don’t want to speak to my face? That’s right. Okay, (Y/LN). I see, you can easily just tell people I have a “stick in my ass” and yet, won’t respond to me? That’s fine with me..”
Those words lingered.. oh they’re pissing you off. You looked at him, he was already looking down at you with the most aggravating smirk on his face. “You do have a stick up your ass. There? What do you want me to tell you!? What can I tell you? Last I remember I ‘don’t know you’ so how will I speak to you if I don’t even know you. Oh, and what can I say? Hmmm? Enlighten me, Spencer. Every time I do something you don’t like, you start running your mouth. Last time I checked, that’s the only time I’ve spoken about you behind your back, so you obviously need to get a grip, Reid.”
“You need me to enlighten you, do you?” He began, “Let me enlighten you, (Y/LN). You can say whatever you want, that’s fine with me, you simply just don’t bring me into it. We got that clear? I don’t need my coworkers thinking im some sort of dick cause you’re butthurt,” he looked at your eyes carefully “and intoxicated.”
“Why don’t you like me anymore,” I let out quietly. “Hm?” He said, clearing his throat. “Why. Don’t. You. Like. Me. Anymore!?” I said, louder. Tears violently threatening to spill. “What’re you talking about?” A tear rolled down your face “What am I talking about!? Jesus, how many times do I have to say it. We were friends, Reid. I liked you,” he was taken aback “I loved you. Jesus, did you forget about our friendship? I know it’s been a while.. but how many girls have to flirt with you to forget your friend? God, Spencer.”
He didn’t even say anything. You stood there, unaware of what was happening, obviously intoxicated. Tears spilling out of your eyes slowly. He looked over at you, looking at you, reading your expressions. He took two steps, making you two mere inches apart. He then leaned down, putting his forehead on yours.
You sniffled, “Reid, what’re you doing-“ “Can I kiss you, (Y/N)? Please say yes..” you nodded. “I need you to tell me I can kiss you, need you to tell me you want me to kiss you.” “Yes, Reid,” before you could even finish he grabbed the sides of your face, pushing his lips onto yours.
You kissed him back, with just as much eagerness as confusion. Don’t you hate him? What’s happening? Before you could even think properly the elevator dinged, you’ve made it to your floor.
He then moved his hands to your waist, leading you out of the elevator, lips still on yours, you pulled away. “Reid. What’re you doing?” Then, it came out. The years you wanted to know what happened, and he’s about to tell you. “I love you, too.” Your response? You pulled his lips back onto yours, walking backwards, finding your room.
You broke the kiss for a second, turning around to unlock the door, reaching for the keycard in your pocket, as Spencer wrapped his hands around your waist. When the door unlocked you basically ran into the room, closing the door behind you two. Once you turned around, your lips were already back on his.
You might be asking, why aren’t you talking this out? Why aren’t you asking what this is? His lips are telling you all you need to know, and you weren’t mad at all. Stumbling around the room, you made it to the bedroom and closed that door, as well. His hands still firm on your waist, he then pushed you against the bedroom door.
His mouth moved from your lips to peppering kisses on your jaw, to then sucking down onto your neck. You were letting out small whimpers, nothing too loud, but it was making him absolutely crazy. As he was marking your neck with visible bruises that weren’t going to be gone anytime soon, he moved his knee between your legs.
You began to grind down on this knee to create some form of friction. Fuck, you were getting louder. Seriously, (Y/N). I mean… seriously? You hate him. You hate how snarky he gets, hate how he makes snide comments, hate how good his lips feel traveling down your neck, hate how good his knee feels against your already aching cunt.
He then started to move his leg with the movements of your hips against him. Jesus. You’re putty in his hands, aren’t you? You’re done for. He then moved his hands under your shirt, starting to ride it up, asking you a question “Can I take it off,” he asked, all you could do was let out sorry whimpers as you were essentially getting yourself off on him, he stopped the movements of his leg, his grip on your hips tightening again “Hm?” All you did was nod, giving him your approval.
Once that was gone, he went back to working on your neck, sucking small bruises, moving down to your collarbone, receiving whimpers and low moans from you. He then moved his hands to the buttons of your jeans. “Can I?” He asked, you nodded again. “Can I?” He repeated. You speak up, “Mhm-“ he nodded, beginning to unbutton your jeans, and then unzipping the zip on them, causing them to fall to the floor.
There wasn’t much light in the room, only a lamp in the corner illuminating the dark room. Enough light for him to be able to see the wet spot in your underwear. He smiled, “You’re already so wet.” He said, circling small circles on your clothed clit, making whimpers fall from your mouth so desperately.
“You know,” he said, pushing your panties to the side, gathering up your arousal on two of his fingers “I love you. It’s why I ignored you so much,” he said, bringing his fingers up and down your slit, “too distracted to do my job sometimes, you know.” He said, inserting one finger into you, causing a breathily gasp leaving your mouth with such ease.
“Just thought if I ignored you, it’d help me from getting distracted with my job.” He said, moving his finger at a slower pace, curling it so every so often to get a reaction out of you. “It didn’t help much, though-“ he said, “I was still getting distracted, all the time. Couldn’t even focus on work, princess.” He added another finger, stretching you out even more. “You know what happens when I can’t focus on work? I get upset, love. Wasn’t even you I was mad at, I was mad at myself, for getting so fucking pent up over you.” He said as he continued his pace, curling his fingers every so often.
He then pulled them out, a soft, disappointing whimper leaving your lips. “Shh, I know. Let’s get you comfy, yeah?” He said, moving you onto the bed, beginning to fully undress you, leaving you exposed. “What about you…” you chimed in nervously. He chuckled. “Oh, right. Sorry, princess. Let me just,” he said as he begun to rid himself of his own garments.
When he rid himself of his prior clothing, all but his boxers, he then hovered over top of you, beginning to gather up more of your slick, rubbing your clit in small, tight circles leaving you an absolute mess. You then began to grip the hand he was using to prop himself up with, needy with greed, your eyes practically begging.
“You close already, princess?” He asked in that cocky tone of his, smirking. If he hadn’t been making you feel this good, bringing you this close to release, making you feel better than you could ever do yourself, you would’ve already hit him upside the head. You then nodded, moans leaving your mouth the easiest they ever had. He had then removed himself of his boxers, his cock springing up and hitting his chest, glistening with all his pre-cum.
Your mouth all but fell to the ground in shock, it was so pretty, he was so pretty. Looking down at you, he had begun alligning himself with your glistening cunt, gathering your slick, finally positioning himself at your entrance, “You ready for me, princess?” You bucked your hips, nodding quickly, “Are you ready?” He asked again, the need to be in you was strong, but the need for your consent was stronger. “Yes, please Spencer—“ He smiled, “Good,” he said, slowly sinking into you, disappearing into you inch, by inch.
He fully sunk into you with a low groan, and slowly begun thrusting into you, warming you up for him, he had then moved his hand between your bodies, and began rubbing your clit in painfully slow circles, watching your face contort with a dumbfound smile on his face. He had then began to move faster, causing you to get even louder than before, and then he finally found his pace, the perfect pace, the pace that hit that spot of yours so well, the spot you were sure never existed, as the men before him were never able to find it, let alone you.
But, fuck. You had to admit, it felt so good. “Spencer— fuck… keep, keep going,” you were putty in his hands, you were his to mold, “yes— like that! Fuck…” he couldn’t help but let out small grunts, and groans. He never knew he could have such an effect on you, he had played this moment so many times in his head, but he’s so, so thankful for his eidetic memory so he can actually remember this moment exactly.
“Feel good doesn’t it, Angel?” He groaned, “Hits where it’s supposed to,” your whimpers got needier, his thrusts got sloppier, “ts’ like this cock was made just for you.” that was it, that was truly it, drunk off his words, his every moment, “Spencer, I’m—“ he got even sloppier, faster, rubbing your clit with such speed you could explode right then and there, your legs began to shake around him.
“Let go, princess. I know you can, ‘know you want to, let it all out for me,” he said, groans getting louder, getting close to his own release himself, two more strokes and you were a dead woman, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, head thrown back, moans louder than ever.
“Fuck, Angel..” he said, pulling out, stroking himself fast, needing his own release, and seeing you like this, cum dripping out of you, it’s just what he needed, it’s the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and now it was ingrained in his mind forever. “Where do you want me, I—“ you whimpered, he was so pretty like this, fucking his hand, head cocked back, groans leaving him.. “T-tummy’s fine—“ and there it was, leaving his cock just seconds later.
His body plopped next to you, hand finding your cheek, caressing it softly. “You did so good for me, Angel..” he smiled softly, you giggled at his compliment, words more innocent than the action you had shared just moments earlier. “Hey, hey let’s get you cleaned up, don’t need you a mess, now do we?” He chucked, leaving the room to grab a washcloth, and coming back with it, wiping his cum off your stomach.
Once you were cleaned up, he had grabbed clothes from your go bag, dressing you slowly, not wanting to overworked your already tired self, “Thank you, Spencer—“ you said softly, almost a whisper, he smiled with pride, “No need to thank me, princess. It wasn’t a favor.” You couldn’t help but giggle, “Mhm, I know— just thought I should thank you, mm never felt that good before, thought that was worth a thanks.”
Once you were in comfy clothes, he had lied next to you, caressing your face, “Angel..” he started, “I’ve gotta go back to my room..” he trailed off, not wanting to leave you like this, sleepy, and alone..
Before he could even finish what he wanted to say, you interrupted him “Don’t—!” He chuckled softly, “I don’t want to, I promise you.. I just need to grab something, okay?” You nodded, but a low groan left your tired lips.
He had gotten up from the mattress, it springing up due to the loss of his weight. Once he reached the handle of the door you yelled out to him, “You’ll be back, right?” your voice drowsy, dripping with tiredness.
He looked back for a moment, smiling softly, “Right.”
A/N: oh my god this is my first published smut my teeth are jittering, hands shaking… please please PLEASE tell me how I did if you could cause I actually can’t tell how bad or good this is. but yeah, I tried. P.S: this smut has been sitting in my drafts for over a MONTH.
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