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almostgenerallyalways · 1 year

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mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader Category: angst / fluff / run-on sentences Word count: 3,1k CW: language, I’ve been to Texas once okay forgive me, divorce Author’s note: this was supposed to be a holiday fic but I got stuck on it and almost abandoned it, but here it is rescued from my drafts, shoutout to all the amazing tgm fic writers your writing truly astounds me

Summary: Every year around the holidays, you hear from your ex. This year when you don’t respond, he decides to show up at your door.

2022

Jake UT [November 23, 2022 at 10:24 PM]

Hey stranger

Visiting my mom for Thanksgiving

How’ve you been?

You ignore the message. How you’ve been in the last twelve months is not something you feel up to discussing with him.

You spend the next weeks dealing with crisis after crisis at work, leaning into the chaos like you have been all year. Your personal life? Garbage fire. Reconfiguring your entire pump setup two weeks before going to production, because the DoC slapped an import ban on one of your key suppliers in China? You’re on top of it.

But then, the week before Christmas, another message comes in:

Jake UT [December 17th, 2022 at 3:47 PM]

Hey

In town for the holidays

Would love to see you if you’re free

Brett welcome too, of course

A pang in your chest, but curiosity gets the better of you, so you text back:

Thanksgiving and Christmas? Judy must be thrilled.

You’ve met Jake’s mom all of one time, ten years ago, but she made a lasting impression. Fiercely protective of her only son, she’d been wary of you at first (you were, in order of importance: Too non-Texan, too vegetarian, and too focused on trying to rescue an almost-due group project for your sustainable water management class in which no one was pulling their weight).

And yet, over the Thanksgiving weekend you’d spent at Jake’s mother’s house in Colton, she’d slowly warmed up to you. You’d asked her endless questions about her job as a project manager at Austin-Bergstrom, and she’d poured you half glasses of wine (still exotic, to you, back then) at the kitchen island, shooing Jake back into the living room.

She’d even called you, after you guys broke up, to say she was sorry to hear it, and to tell you to call her up any time you needed someone to talk to. You’d tried your best to keep your voice even, not to break down in tears for the seventh time that day, and never called her again.

* * *

“Dude. Put your phone away for two minutes.”

Jake looks up apologetically at his friend, and pockets the device. “Sorry. Just expecting a text.”

Sandeep holds out his bottle of Lone Star, and Jake clinks it with his own. “It’s good to see you, man. Sorry I wasn’t around at Thanksgiving, we were visiting Jed’s family in NC. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

Jake takes a swig of his beer, the cold liquid feeling like a balm to his throat. “Yeah, well. It’s been a big year, work-wise, so they owed me one. I wanted to spend some extra time with my mom.”

Bringing up his drink to toast again, Sandeep says: “Here’s to you, bud. And to getting that permanent assignment in California. At least we knew where to send our holiday card this year.”

Condensation drips down the neck of his bottle, and Jake spins it slowly in his hand, stopping himself from peeling off the label. He feels on edge, unmoored, despite this 6th Street dive bar being as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Sandeep’s got his number. “Seeing anyone else while you’re in town? I don’t know, Myers?”

Jake doesn’t look up, but feels his cheeks heat up fractionally.

His friend takes another swig of his beer. “I guess I should stop calling her Myers. You know, with the divorce and all.”

The bottle escapes Jake’s grip, and amber liquid sloshes across the table, into Sandeep’s lap. “Shit, Seresin! Grab some napkins, will you?”

* * *

2012

You’d always known there was an expiration date on this thing with Jake, which is why you’d been reluctant to meet his mom to begin with.

You wanted fundamentally different things. He, the Navy: Adventure, excitement, a chance to serve his country. You: Stability. A family. A place where you belonged.

Both of you: an opportunity to prove yourself.

It’s civil, as far as breakups go.

“You always knew I wanted to fly.” He says, over breakfast at Magnolia Café. There’s a hard set to his jaw that makes you soften in contrast, because of course you do, everyone who’s ever been near Jake Seresin for longer than ten minutes knows he’s always wanted to fly.

From your first date he told you about how Judy used to park him in her office at the airport when her summer childcare fell through; little Jake happily spending the day watching commercial jets taxiing and taking off in quick succession.

How her coworkers, the civilian engineers who’d stayed on after Bergstrom Air Force Base was decommissioned and commercialized, would regale him with stories about generations of F-4 Phantoms. Or the British Airways Concorde, one of only twenty of the ill-fated aircraft ever made, bringing the Queen to Austin in a little yellow hat. The Reconnaissance Air Meet bringing in the best fighter pilots from across all divisions of the military and abroad, to compete and show off their skills.

Jake would listen to them with stars in his eyes.

You pick at your migas, your appetite gone. “I know, Jake. I would never stop you.”

But you look at him, and you know your face mirrors his determination. “But I can’t come with you, Jake. I can’t start my career following you around from camp to base year to year. I’m forty-thousand dollars in debt getting this degree, and I need to follow my own plan.”

You haven’t moved in together, though Jake spends most of his nights at your tiny off-campus apartment, where you’ve made him countless cups of black coffee trying to fuel weekend study sessions. Where he would come in past midnight, back from the late shift at his part-time job at the H-E-B, and bury his face in your neck, waking you up even though you’d been asleep for hours. Where you would hold his sleeping head to your chest, his deep breathing somehow felt inside of you, and run your fingers up and down the bare skin of his back, trying to memorize him.

You’re twenty-two, you tell yourself. This is not the end of the world.

So you see him off at the front door, a box of his things clutched to his chest, and you force yourself to be strong. “You better be,” and you try to smile up at him, but you’re not sure you’re doing a convincing job, “You better be the best goddamn pilot the Navy has ever seen, Jake.”

For a second, he looks like he wants to say something, but then he just puts down the box, and pulls you into a last embrace. You sink into it, the fundamentally safe feeling of his arms around you, then make yourself pull away after a minute, pretending you don’t see the wet stains on his shirt.

Later you look at all the spaces in your apartment he is now conspicuously absent from (no dog-eared volume of Game of Thrones on the nightstand, no boots by the door), and it hits you then; the crevasse he’s left in your life. It may run deeper than you thought.

* * *

Jake had gone to Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island, then designator-specific training in Pensacola, Florida, and done his best not to think about you.

It helped that his days were intense and exhausting. It helped that, on liberty weekends, girls would flock to him and his friends in bars.

It helped to be several states away from you.

It helped to be living his dream.

* * *

There is a bit of a backslide, that first Thanksgiving after, where you both think it can’t hurt to see each other for one drink, for old time’s sake, which ends in him taking you up against the door in your new apartment, your legs wrapped around his waist because he does not have the willpower or presence of mind to figure out the way to your bedroom.

He knows it was a mistake, at about five AM the next day, when the blue light of morning starts streaming through a gap in the curtains, illuminating your tousled hair fanned out over the pillow, the steady rise and fall of your chest so familiar to him he could cry.

Untangling himself from you hurts, and he does perhaps the most cowardly thing he ever will: he sneaks out before you wake up. But next week he’s shipping out, and the thought of the same dead-end conversation over coffee made just the way he likes it is unbearable, so he makes himself walk away.

Somehow it’s worse, the second time around.

* * *

You’d met someone else, like he’d known you would. He sees the engagement announcement on Facebook, browsing on his phone between drills, and likes the post. It’s the third year he’s been away, and he’s at TOPGUN by then, so he has a lot on his mind. He has a girlfriend, even, a local: cute as a button, beats him savagely at pool.

It doesn’t fully hit him until the first time he sees you with your then-fiancé, at a little holiday reunion of college friends. He sees you with that ring on your finger, another man’s arm around your shoulders, and he gets an acute sense of the alternate reality that could’ve been his.

It feels a little like losing altitude too fast.

Your initial reception of him is understandably frosty, but you seem too genuinely happy to hold a grudge. By the third round, when he sidles up to you at the bar, you give him a quick hug, looking up at him with a smile that squeezes his heart: “I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

He nods, not quite trusting himself to speak, and pulls you back in, just for a moment, tucking your head under his chin. You smell like apple and magnolia, like nights spent with his nose pressed into your back.

You don’t invite him to the wedding, and he’s all too glad not to have to make up an excuse not to go.

* * *

Things settle, after that. Jake gets deployed and reassigned, breaks up with his girlfriend and eventually gets another. You get promoted to senior engineer, then project lead. You see each other, not every year but close enough, sometimes with your husband there, sometimes without.

He braces himself for the next Facebook post; that you’re pregnant, but it never comes. Over time, even that seems to lose some of its potential emotional impact on him.

Until three weeks ago, when you don’t text him back.

* * *

2022

You kick your shoes off in the entryway, then head into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Before you can reach the tap, the doorbell rings, and for a second you think somehow, some way, your terrible Bumble date has followed you home.

Grabbing the biggest kitchen knife you own off the magnet strip over the sink, just in case, you creep back to the door, barefoot, to press your face up to the peephole.

You don’t really expect to see the guy you just left, the ice in your glass not even melted before you were thinking up excuses to get out of there, but you sure as fuck don’t expect to see Jake either.

The door feels heavier than usual as you slowly slide it open, or maybe you’re just a little stunned. The night air hits your skin, and you can make out the sound of dogs barking in the distance.

For a long moment, Jake just looks at you, but then he says: “What were you planning on doing with that, sweetheart?”

You follow the jut of his chin down the line of your arm, and contemplate the knife for a second, Jake’s sudden appearance having made you forget all about it.

“I thought someone might have followed me here.”

“Ah.” He says, a spark in his eyes, clearly suppressing a smile. “If you were going to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat, a knife is a terrible choice. I could give you some tips, though.”

Putting the damn thing down on your entryway console, you turn back to look at him. It’s not cold, exactly, in December in South Central Austin, but he looks underdressed: a long-sleeved light grey t-shirt, hands shoved in the pockets of a faded pair of jeans.

He looks good, you can’t deny it: he’s always had an immediate effect on you.

Jake, your somewhat gangly, sweet college boyfriend had it. Jake, ten years of military training later: older, filled out, fine crinkly lines starting to appear at the corners of his eyes (helped along by the California sun and God knows what far-off places), irrevocably still does.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

At that, his expression sobers, and he looks at you for a long moment before he says:

“You didn’t tell me.”

* * *

Fucking Sandeep, you think, rubbing the back of your hand across your eyes, because that fucker has not been subtle with the hints lately, tutting like a Victorian matron while you pass the time evaluating your Bumble matches with his husband during Monday night football’s ad breaks.

The granite of your kitchen countertop feels reassuringly cool beneath your thighs, and you take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the tile below:

“I wasn’t ready.”

Jake huffs, or so you assume by the little sound that escapes him, as you determinedly face only his sneakers: “It’s been a year. You sure told everyone else we know.”

That makes your head snap up, emotion rising in your chest in a way you don’t like, have always had to tamp down when it comes to him, these last ten years. “Fuck off, Jake. You know it’s different when it comes to you.”

He leans back against the fridge, arms folded, just slightly lifting his right eyebrow at you in that irritating way of his: “I could’ve been there for you.”

Fuck it, you think, all cards on the table then. “I was heartbroken, and embarrassed, and trying to figure out how to exist on my own again after being married for five years to someone who didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was, Jake. Sorry my first impulse wasn’t to come cry on my hometown hero ex-boyfriend’s shoulder.”

His eyes soften, and he pushes off the fridge to come stand next to you, running his fingers over the edge of the countertop. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice quieter than a moment ago. “I’m being a dick. It’s just, you have to know, I would’ve been there for you.”

He pauses for a second, takes a deep breath: “It’s always been different when it comes to you too, sweetheart.”

You start to shake, a little, or maybe it’s your imagination. But your voice wavers as you say his name, everything about your tone a warning: “Jake.”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head: “Our timing sucked, and I don’t regret our decision from back then. I’m proud of who I’ve become in the last ten years, and I’m proud of you. You think I don’t keep up with what you’re doing? The articles you’ve published?”

This stuns you, momentarily. “No, Jake Seresin. If I’m completely honest, I didn’t think you gave a shit about the latest advances in Texas drought management.”

Just being near him, the familiar smell of him bringing up memories you’ve had years to unsuccessfully repress, is overpowering.

He makes it worse by turning to you, face so goddamn heartbreakingly earnest as he says: “I couldn’t give you what you deserved, ten years ago, but I always told myself, if I was ever in a position to…” He swallows. “I tried to forget about it when you got married, I tried to root for you and Brett, I swear.”

His hand settles next to your thigh, not quite touching, and your hand comes down on its own accord to cover his. He straightens almost imperceptibly, uses his other palm to wipe a tear that’s made its way down your cheek.

Cupping your face, he draws a deep breath. “I have a permanent assignment now, in San Diego. I know it’s…”

“Jake.” You interrupt, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I’m not remotely the same person I was back then.”

He moves to stand in front of you now, and you draw him in between your thighs. Suddenly it seems imperative that you feel him, that he holds you.

Dipping his head to yours, you can hear the smile in his voice, watery, tentative: “Then let me get to know you again. Get to know me again.” He leans one hand on the counter, the other tracing your cheekbone. “No pressure. I’m totally very cool about this. Whatever you want.”

You laugh, a little choked up through tears, but genuine. It feels liberating. “What if I say yes? How does this work?”

His smile broadens, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he’s so goddamn close, nudging your nose with his. “Come visit me, for a start. I’ll show you the sights.”

You draw him in a little closer still, legs wrapping around his waist, one hand finding its way into his close-cropped hair, and you could cry for how familiar he still feels after all these years.

But when you close the gap between your lips and his, it’s like coming home and yet not at all: he’s different and rougher and sharper and it floods you with emotion, something big and terrifying and old and new.

He leans into the kiss, grinning, cards his fingers through your hair before he moves to cover your chin, your brow, the space next to your ear with kisses, and you remember this with a jolt to your heart – how singularly intense it is to be the focus of Jake Seresin, like the strength of the sun is aimed at you, how he never does anything by halves.

You take his chin in your hand, kiss him again for good measure, before saying, into the stubble of his jaw: “One visit. No pressure.”

The grin he gives you in return could power half this city: “One visit. No pressure.”

He dips his head to yours again, kissing the skin behind your ear as he tells you: “Southern California has a lot of drought problems, you know. I’ve actually been reading some really scary articles about it.”

i hope you enjoyed :):) - if you liked this I hope you’ll check out some of my other work:

where the wild things are (rooster x reader)

cross my heart (hangman x reader) masterlist

#tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick fic #why am i like this i stg

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letterstotheflre · 2 years

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𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄 || 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

summary: tonight was supposed to be the night you finally fed, only somehow eddie munson manages to satiate your appetite without losing his life. [eddie munson x succubus!reader || jennifer's body au]

cw: smut || 18+ only [ft. oral sex (f receiver), virgin!eddie, switch!reader, switch!eddie, lots of biting/teeth,], there's some mentions about not eating for a long time but it's not ed related (you just haven't killed anyone in a month okay?), general mentions of killing (no gore), lmk if i missed any

a/n: this was born out of a conversation w @ringpop-poppy who asked me to tag her lol. thank her for getting me out of my writer's block <3

For someone who’s been obsessed with you since middle school, Eddie doesn’t notice you’re standing next to him until he closes his locker.

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaims in surprise, bumping his side against the row of lockers. The metal boxes clank at the impact.

“Hi, Eddie,” you say blankly, leaning your shoulder against the wall.

He frowns at the tone of your voice– dry and monotonous and devoid of the snark he’s so used to hearing. He scans your figure, the dip between his eyebrows deepening when he notices the sheen of sweat on your forehead and the dullness of your skin.

You look sick– your cheeks are sunken in, cheekbones protruding abnormally and dark circles under your eyes looking more like bruises. Strangest of all, you’ve switched your beloved dresses for a pair of baggy jeans and a purple sweatshirt that looks 2 sizes too big.

Actually, the strangest thing is that you’re talking to him. In public.

“Heeey,” he greets back, dragging the ‘e’ as he looks around the hallway. There’s a couple of people giving the pair of you strange looks, some jocks narrowing their eyes menacingly at him, but everyone seems to move on pretty quickly from this peculiar interaction.

He doesn’t even hear a gaggle of cheerleaders giggling behind manicured hands as they watch you talk to him. There’s only Chrissy Cunningham, standing alone a couple of feet away from you and giving him a small wave. He relaxes ever so slightly. “You okay?”

“I’m fantastic,” you say with a lack of excitement.

Eddie snorts. “You don’t sound very believable.”

“Oh.” You run a long finger nail down the plastic spiral of the notebook you’re cradling against your chest, raising an eyebrow when Eddie shivers at the sound. You stop. “Just hungry. I haven’t eaten in…” you blow some air as you pretend to think, cheeks puffing out. “I can’t even remember.”

“Oh, um, I got some pretzels. If you want. Here.” He unhooks one of the straps of his bag from around his shoulder and struggles to open the zipper, pulling at it with as much strength as he can muster without risking it breaking.

He almost jumps out of his skin when you place a cold hand on his forearm. He stares at it, confused. Why are you so cold? It’s almost spring break.

“It’s okay, Eddie.” He fights back the shiver that threatens to go down his spine at how softly you say his name. “I’m working on it, don’t worry. Besides, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask me something,” he echoes back. “Uh, sure. What do you need?”

You kick your foot against the dirty school floor, biting your lower lip. Eddie notices how chapped they are– what’s usually a pair of very smooth and glossy lips is now covered in dried, cracking skin. He frowns in concern even more.

“D’you wanna come over tonight?” You twirl a strand of hair between two fingers and smile at him. “I could rent A Nightmare on Elm Street and make some popcorn. Or The Shining, whichever you want.”

Eddie blinks owlishly at you, chuckling awkwardly and gesturing between your bodies with his index finger. His heavy cross metal ring glints under the fluorescent lights. “Us. Watch a movie. At your house. Uh…” He fleets his gaze back around the hallway and notices a significant lack of students walking around.

He leans closer to you, trying to be as quiet as possible when he asks, “Is this some sort of joke?”

“No,” you shake your head, tilting it to the side when you see a thin chain around his neck. Your smile is more natural as you grab it and bring it out from under his shirt, the corners of your mouth tilting up minisculely when the guitar pick dangles in the air. “Cute,” you say airily.

Eddie can’t take his eyes off you. He’s pretty sure he’s going crossed eyed as he watches you play with his necklace. “So you’re serious,” he pushes.

“As a heart attack,” you deadpan, still staring at the small plastic triangle and poking it with your middle finger. If you felt like your normal self, you’d be giggling at the sound of your nail hitting the guitar pick. “So?”

“Sure.” Eddie nods enthusiastically. This has to be a dream come true. “Sure, yeah.”

“Great.” Some of your usual brightness comes back to your face at his answer. You open your notebook and quickly write down your address, rip the paper and offer it to him with a sweet smile. The kind that Eddie never thought would be directed at him. “My parents leave on vacation at seven, so come around eight.”

“Ookay,” he slowly plucks the paper from between your fingers, almost dropping it when you press a kiss on his cheek.

You wink at him, walking backwards. “Can’t wait.”

He presses his fingers to the spot your lips touched, skin feeling hot, and stares dumbstruck as you walk back to Chrissy and hook your arm around hers, giggling at each other as you make your way to class.

–

Eddie slaps one hand on the steering wheel as he drives down the street, head banging in the air to the rhythm of Black Sabbath’s Evil Woman.

His heart beats a thousand miles per hour, blood pumping through his veins at a speed it never has before. He can’t stop the giddy smile from spreading on his lips, shaking his head in disbelief– he’s driving to the house of the girl of his dreams to watch a movie and… other stuff.

He hopes other stuff happens. You had said it so suggestively, making sure to mention your parents leaving you home alone and– and you had kissed his cheek! That had to be a sign, right?

He covers his mouth with his hand and exhales a breath out, sniffing the air. He grimaces and leans to the side, the van swerving with him as he struggles to keep control of the wheel at the same time as he looks for the pack of gum he kept in the back pocket of his jeans.

He manages to get it out right before he has to turn the corner on the right, hooraying loudly and the wheels screeching as he maneuvers wildly. Keeping his foot on the pedal, he quickly unwraps the gum and throws the paper on the backseat, popping it into his mouth. He chews it through his deafening singing, the fresh minty flavour exploding on his taste buds.

His singing turns into a quiet mumble when he notices that the streets get progressively darker until there are no lamp posts turned on. The hairs on the back of his head stand in alert and he turns down the music completely, his chewing slowing along with the van as he reaches the address written on the paper.

He picks it up from where he tucked in inside the overhead visor, his finger gracing over the smooth letter you wrote. He’s sick with love as he traces the tiny heart dotting the ‘i’.

He looks outside his window and to the row of identical houses across from where he’s parked. There’s only one house with a single light turned on and, effectively, it’s the right address.

Putting the paper back where it belongs, Eddie takes a deep breath and fixes his hair. He gets out of the car and stands facing the houses, adjusting his leather jacket and spitting out the gum. With a reassuring nod to himself he walks forward.

Everything is eerily quiet. He fastens his steps when he gets the feeling that someone is watching him, taking the short porch steps two at a time and comes to a sudden stop when he sees a plank of wood over the front door. Uselessly, he tries the doorknob anyway, jiggling it until it becomes obvious that the door isn’t going to open.

He takes a couple steps back and looks to both windows on either side of the door, noticing a sheet of plastic hanging over the glass like a makeshift protective curtain. His eyebrows scrunch down in confusion– something isn’t right.

There’s no way that the Queen of Hawkins High, resident Mean Girl, lived in a house like this. He had heard through the grapevine how lavish her house was, how big and deep the pool in her backyard was and how she had a room designated to store all the alcohol you could imagine. Everyone raved about how handy it came for the parties he had never been invited to and how they always ended in someone being thrown into the water.

His curiosity is piqued, though. He heads to the left side of the house, jumping off the porch and stepping on the narrow bit of grass between your supposed house and your neighbour’s. He looks up to the sky and notices a ladder out of the corner of his eye, right below an open window.

Making sure it’s sturdy enough, he climbs it, slapping the plastic curtain back and throwing himself inside the house. He groans in pain when he hits the floor with a lack of grace, holding his shoulder and rubbing the sore spot.

Even inside, everything is still pitch black.

“Hello?” He calls out your name, taking a hesitant step forward. “Anyone home?”

No one answers him.

He walks out of the room, quietly moving another plastic curtain to the side and starts navigating the house curiously. He thinks he’s in the living room when he finally hears something, a low and sugary sweet beat coming from up the stairs.

The steps creak under his Reebooks. He’s almost on the landing when a crow appears out of nowhere and flies past him like he isn’t even there, its wings flapping noisily. “Holy mother of God,” he curses, resting his back against the wall and clutching his chest.

When his heart rate is back to normal he keeps climbing, finally reaching the first floor. There’s a crack of warm light coming from the room the farthest away from where he’s standing, the music growing louder as he follows it.

His lips pull up when he sees the many lit up candles around the room, placed between planks of wood and construction tools. There’s a radio on a workshop table playing a song he wouldn’t be caught dead listening to but it fits his fair maiden to perfection.

“You made it,” your voice comes from behind him unexpectedly. He jumps in the air and screams, eyes wide when he turns around and sees how sick you look now. Even worse than you look at school.

Eddie twists one of his rings around his finger as you saunter towards him, hips swaying hypnotically. He gulps, “This– this isn’t really your house, is it?”

Eddie is hit with a wave of your perfume– dark, smelling of chocolates and wild berries– as you stand in front of him.

“No, baby,” you pout, shaking your head softly. You take his hand and place it over your chest. “This is our home. Just for us.”

Eddie chuckles, sounding uncomfortable. His eyes are glued to the chain that dips between your breasts and the heart locket that hangs from it. “What would we need a house for?”

Your giggle is sweet, your touch soft as you caress his chest and squeeze his shoulders. Eddie holds his breath as you lean forward and whisper in his ear, “To play mommy and daddy.”

Oh shit, he thinks. When did the air become so stuffy?

Your hands go to the back of his neck, long nails scratching his nape and almost making him purr. There’s goosebumps on the skin of his throat as you run your nose against it, bump his jaw up with it and nip gently at his earlobe. “Do you wanna play with me, Eddie?”

He’d do anything you asked of him. “Yes, fuck, yes.”

You pull him towards you by the hair and press your lips together, not bothering with taking it slow, slipping your tongue inside his mouth. He tastes good– minty and smokey and something else… something sweet. Not like the other boys you’ve kissed before to feed on them. They were salty with lust, greedy as they tried to control the kiss. Control you.

But not Eddie. No, he molds himself to you, lets you take whatever you want from his and is grateful for it.

You don’t like it.

Determined to forget about… whatever it was that made your heart skip a beat, you pull away and drift your kisses down his neck, biting him harshly while your hands work on the belt around his hips. You can hear his heavy pants as you stroke his cock over his jeans, adding pressure and feeling the hard and heavy bulge under your palm twitch as you run your tongue over the teeth marks imprinted on his skin.

“Fuck, fuck, wait.” He reaches for your wrists to stop you from lowering his jeans. “Jesus– that was… so fucking hot. Need a minute.”

You huff out an irritated breath, snarking, “I don’t have a minute.”

Being so close to feeding, to sinking your teeth into fresh meat and warm blood, and then having it stripped away from you has made you lose some of your charm. “Just let me suck your cock or something, Jesus,” you roll your eyes in annoyance.

Eddie laughs, holding your cheeks and kissing your still chapped lips that are now shiny with spit. “That’d defeat the whole purpose of taking a minute.”

God, why does he have to be so sweet? It’d be easier if he were an asshole that couldn’t wait to get his dicks wet and didn’t care about making it last. You can’t stand it. Can’t stand him.

“How about I eat you out, hm? To pass the time?”

You really don’t mean to, but it’s impossible to stop yourself from blurting out in surprise, “Eat me out?”

“Yeah.” Your stunned face shocks him. “Wait, you’ve never…”

You shake your head, mouth parted. Strictly speaking, you’re not being 100% truthful. Some of your victims have attempted to eat you out, giving you a couple of licks that did nothing for you just to get you wet enough so they could sink their greedy cocks into you without your body rejecting them. Like that would happen.

Still, it’s not like any of those boys managed to get you off with their mouths, so there’s no point in explaining all that to Eddie.

“Oh, baby,” he sighs. His hands that were cradling your face go down the sides of your body, stroking your curves and settling on your hips. He pushes you forward so your pussy can grind on his bulge. You gasp. “Baby, baby, baby, baby. You have no idea what you’ve been missing.”

You don’t like him having the upper hand. Forcing yourself back into character, you grip the roots of his hair until he hisses. “Show me, then.”

Eddie’s grin is wolfish. “As my fair lady wishes.”

He’s the one who pulls you into a bruising kiss this time, his tongue playing with yours as he deepens it. You traipse back towards the wooden table together, stumbling over each other’s feet.

Your hips reach the table first, the tools on it clattering to the floor and the radio shaking as it struggles to keep itself balanced. Eddie chuckles against your lips and helps you get on the edge of the table, pushing you backwards until you’re laying flat on the hard surface.

He trails kisses down your throat and chest, kissing the swells of your breasts that your tank top exposes, sucking on the skin until colourful splotches appear. You arch your back into his face, mumble a curse when his teeth graze your hardened nipple over the thin fabric of your top.

He peppers more wet kisses down your stomach, dampening your shirt with his spit. He laves his tongue his tongue over the exposed bit of skin of your tummy and flips your skirt up, mouth jumping from your hip bone to your inner thigh, completely neglecting your core in favour of feverishly biting marks into the softness of your thighs.

The closer he gets to your panties, the softer his nips become, turning into soft pecks that make you warm where his lips touch you. When he reaches your mound, he presses the gentlest kiss over the little bow stuck to your cotton panties, stealing a glance up at you.

You don’t think you’ve ever been looked at with such tenderness. Not even before you were turned into this monster. It makes you shiver, hips raising to help him lower your underwear.

Eddie’s dimples show when he sees the glistening threads sticking to the fabric, spreading thinner and thinner as he separates it from your pussy.

An involuntary moan comes out from deep within your chest when he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking it between his teeth and licking wet stripes up your clit, his warm tongue slipping between your folds eagerly. He chances another look up at you, watches you raise yourself on your elbows and brush back his bangs before tangling your fingers in his messy waves.

Your chest is already panting as you watch him swirl your little nub with the tip of his tongue, rising and falling in rapid succession with the quick, short breaths you take. There’s a thin layer of sweat forming on your hairline, Eddie inadvertently melting away the coldness that had taken over your body at the lack of nutrients and raising your temperature until it feels like there’s wildfire coursing through your veins.

“Eddie,” you whine when he pushes you into his mouth, forcing you to grind against his face. A whimper falls from your parted lips when he forces his tongue into your hole, tasting the deepest parts of you that have never been explored by any man. “S-so good.”

It feels more than good. It is more than good and you’re not used to it ever feeling this good. You tighten your grip on his hair and Eddie moans filthily against you, finally allowing his eyes to flutter shut as he makes out with your pussy like he’s been fantasizing about for years. You taste sweeter than he imagined– unnaturally so. He’s drunk on your taste, his mind becoming foggy, all and any thoughts he had other than you disappearing from his mind as he focuses on the feast in front of him.

You don’t understand what’s happening– your legs spam around his head and your body jerks up, muscles tensing then relaxing immediately as a tsunami of pleasure crashes over you and leaves you breathless.

You fall onto your back as you gush all over him, filling his mouth with your slick. With trembling hands, you force him away from you, hazy eyes blinking up at him.

He looks… messy. Hair mussed up from your fingers gripping it, lips red and swollen from eating you out like a starved prisoner, chin shiny and dripping with your release, pupils dilated and eyes glazed over just the same as yours.

He’s unfairly pretty.

“Are you okay?” He asks, crowding your body as he leans down and examines your face closely. Your skin returned to it’s usual glow, your hair no longer looking oily and thin. Somehow, your lips aren’t dry anymore– they’re plump and soft.

“I feel– I feel weird,” you slur. You had expected to return to normal after feeding on Eddie, but you haven’t even punctured an artery and the immeasurable hunger you’ve been feeling all of last month is almost completely gone.

Something isn’t right.

Eddie’s heart skips a beat at your confession. “Shit, did I hurt you? Was that too much?”

“Too much? That was… Where the hell did you learn that, Munson?”

He shrugs one shoulder bashfully, his cheeks growing pink at your disbelief. “College girls have a thing for struggling rockstars, apparently.”

Something ugly grows in your chest at the thought of Eddie fucking other people, of another girl keeping his cock warm. You’ve always liked the virgins– they were sweet like candy and desperate and let you take whatever you wanted from them. You milked their souls dry before they could even stutter out a “thank you”.

You had chosen Eddie on purpose and had been so very careful before approaching him earlier today. You had smelled him and sensed that honeyed aura virgin boys always had around them. And you knew he liked you, poor boy wasn’t very good at hiding it.

So you started being nicer to him: lending him your book in English class when he forgot his copy, whispering to him the answer to a problem in Miss O’Donell’s class when her back was turned to you, smiling at him when you passed each other in the hallway. You even stopped Jason from mocking him and his nerd group a couple of times.

It had almost cost you your reputation. But you were so hungry, and he was so pretty and smelled so delicious. To have him not be a virgin, have all of your hard work mean nothing, it makes you angry.

Your previously shining doe eyes grow dark and narrow into thin slits. Your canines elongate and you do your best to cover them as you say, “So you’re not a virgin?”

Eddie’s startled by your sudden change of mood. “Uh…” he swallows awkwardly, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with the motion. “Uh, not– not completely. Couple of blowjobs here and there but– but I’ve never…”

“Fucked a girl?” you guess. He nods shyly and you relax your tense shoulders, returning to your mellow self from 3 minutes ago. You’re giving Eddie whiplash.

You wrap a leg around his hips and push them forward, pressing his hard cock against your wet pussy and gasping at the scratch of the denim. “You wanna fuck me, Eddie?”

His breath catches as you grind your hips against his, eyes rolling at the feel of the heat of your cunt seeping through his jeans. He’s pretty sure there’s a damp spot on his boxers caused by his leaky slit. “Y-yes, God, yes.”

You raise a hand to cradle his cheek, stroking his skin with your thumb. “Yeah? Want my pussy to be the first one you ever feel?”

“Uh huh.” He makes a broken sound, nodding repeatedly. Your voice is hypnotizing, your touch so gentle. “Wanna– wana fuck you. Need it. Please.”

You let go of his cheek and his head falls forward, forehead resting against yours and his hot breath fanning over your face. You reach forward and unzip his pants, lowering them enough so that his cock and his balls fall out.

“Shit,” he swears as you lick your hand, maintaining eye contact, and grip him, pumping your fist up and down his length. Eddie’s hips jerk forward.

You kiss along his jawline and whisper in his ear, “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“Fuck, wanna spread your pussy with my cock,” he whines. You press his cock down to your mound and glide your pussy along his dick, puffy and wet folds spreading around his thick girth and bumping your swollen clit with his pretty pink tip. “Aw, shit. J-just like that. So fucking good.”

You kiss behind his earlobe. “What else?”

“Want to m-make you cum,” he stutters when you cradle his heavy sack in your palm, gently squeezing it. “Want to– to fill you up and watch it drip out.”

You giggle mischievously in his ear and Eddie’s mind short circuits. “You want to make me messy?”

“So messy– oh!” he moans when you push his cock into your weeping cunt. Only his mushroom shaped head is inside but that’s almost enough to push him over the edge. He bites his lip until he draws blood.

You lean forward to lick it up and hum dreamily as you get your first taste of him. He’s so nice and tastes so good, it’s a pity that you have to kill him.

“Holy shit.” Eddie stares at you with eyes as wide as saucers, then glances down to where your tight heat is welcoming his cock home, spread wide around it. If he thought he had been drunk on your taste before, he feels like he’s just chugged three bottles of the moonshine the older teens at the trailer park drank when he was younger. “Holy shit.”

“Come on, Eddie,” you encourage him, “Fuck me.”

“Y-yeah.” He draws back then forward again, slowly finding a strong rhythm. His hips slaps against yours with wet slaps of skin, his balls hitting your ass with every thrust. “Gonna fuck you. Been dreaming about it for years… thinking of– of making you cum all over me… putting my cum inside you… goddamn it.”

The table creaks as he fucks you, the radio tumbling to the floor with a loud clatter but Eddie can’t focus on any of it when he’s burying himself so deep inside you he can feel your throat contracting around him every time you moan. He wants to record your every sound, every little “uh uh” you make so he can listen to them at night while he touches himself to this memory.

His stomach burns and twists, fingers digging into your skin with bruising strength as he forces you back and forth on his cock. You can tell he’s getting close. Can smell his scent get sweeter and sweeter the closer the coil in his stomach gets to snapping in half.

This is your chance.

Your hands frame his scrunched up face as you force him to look at you. “It’s okay,” your tone is soft, gentle. “You can cum now Eddie, it’s okay.”

Eddie looks pained as he shakes his head, cheeks red from embarrassment. “Want you to cum, too.”

You kiss from his cheek down to his jawline, smiling into his skin. “I already did remember? Now I want you to cum. Can you do that for me?”

“Okay. Okay.”

Your back scratches against the wood with every thrust, splinters digging into the skin between your shoulder blades and making you moan at the pleasurable pain. You graze your teeth over his straining neck, allowing them to grow sharper and longer. You open your mouth wide but, right before you can sink your fangs into the vein that’s popping out, calloused fingers grip your chin and pull you into a desperate kiss.

You’re wide eyed as Eddie licks into your mouth, groans of pleasure mixing with whimpers as he spills all of his cum inside you. He loses his rhythm, rutting into you like a dog, cock twitching and painting your insides white.

“I’m sorry,” he pants, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t– you felt so good–”

You don’t know why you do it, really. You should just kick him off you and tear a piece of his side. But he did something to you, somehow managed to satiate your appetite without losing his life, so instead of twisting his arm and pushing him to the floor, you pet the back of his hair and repeat your previous words. “It’s okay.”

Eddie’s chuckle is muffled. “That’s the last thing a guy wants to hear after sex, you know. Or during.”

“W-well, it’s the truth,” you fumble. You’ve never comforted someone besides Chrissy, but she just cried and complained, not expecting any reassurances from you. “You can just make it up to me next time.”

Eddie wonders if you’ve always been this sweet deep down. There had to be a reason why Cunnigham liked you, after all. “Next time?” he asks, hoping his hearing was working correctly.

You’re going to grow hungry eventually. If you can’t eat him then you’ll have him do whatever he did to you tonight to keep you full.

“Yeah, next time.”

You’re going to keep him forever.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine

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impishjesters · 4 months

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Touch-starved Moon

CW// non-sexual touching, teasing, no actual sexual content notes: Sun and Moon are separate animatronics, not mentioned but implied that the reader is already dating the boys A/N: I don't know what to call this, a preview? Snippet? Drabble? Either way, late last night I got on the topic of touch-starved Moon with my friend, which led to me typing up bits at a time to send them. They were my magical muse because I've been having writer's block, so I just find it funny that I wrote up a bunch via Discord messages versus my usual setup...and on my phone of all things. Maybe I'll do this more to try and get out of my writer's block, definitely seems to be doing a better job than forcing myself to write shit up. But yeah, since this was written up on my phone I've gone through and fixed all my 2 am sleepy typos and grammar mistakes, obviously this isn't finished. Again why I said I don't really know how to label it. Maybe with enough interest, I could pick it up and flesh it out a bit more. But it wasn't intended to be this long, just like the first bit then a jump to the reader touching and over-stimming Moon and junk 💀

“Hm, Moonie?” Your hand drifted down his chest plate before giving the elastic of his pants a quick snap.

Moon hummed, gaze still locked on your face. “Yes, star?”

“What did I just say?”

“What?”

“Oh my, Moonpie were you distracted?”

“I was listening.” he hissed. Moon’s chest plate rumbled with annoyance but grew warm under your touch.

“Mhm, and what was I saying?”

Moon froze and sent your hand a glance, watching as your fingers walked their way down his stomach. “D-daycare..”

“Daycare? Mm, that’s a pretty broad topic.”

“Cleaning..” he cleared his throat. “Cleaning the daycare..”

“Moonie… It’s morning, the daycare is already clean.”

Shit.

“Seems like someone hasn’t fully booted up. I’ll overlook it this time, try not to get distracted with the kiddos, okay?”

Moon forced himself not to chase your hand as it left him, forcing out a grunt in agreement.

“Well,” you stretched and turned to look out into the daycare. “I’m gonna go find Sunny and ask him for his thoughts on what I said.”

He flinched. Did you ask him for his thoughts on something? For the daycare? Moon held back a whimper as you left, crimson eyes trailing the hand you used to touch him, now being used to wave Sun down. The same hand used to touch him now rested against Sun, and it made his chest ache and stomach churn.

Why did you stop touching him?

The rest of the morning was spent with the feeling of eyes on you. Every curious glance resulted in catching Moon’s gaze on you instead of the children he was supposed to be tending to. And without fail, every time he was caught he’d look away and find a way to excuse himself to a different place in the daycare.

By nap time the staring didn’t let up, even Sun had commented, questioning why Moon was so out of it and staring at you.

Moon silently stewed in his emotions, irritated at every touch between you and Sun. You’d yet to touch him again, in fact, you’d gone out of your way to avoid touching him.

During lunchtime, you’d made sure to avoid his touch while handing out the lunch trays, only to touch Sun’s by “accident”.

What made Sun so special? Was it because he’d spaced out earlier? Were you upset? Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be in Sun’s place right now.

Should he apologize? If he was going to he needed to think fast, you’d turn away from Sun and were headed straight for…him?

“Hey Moonpie.” You whispered, careful of the sleeping children, and sat beside him on the floor keeping a decent distance between the two of you. “Feeling better?”

Moon’s voice box rumbled. “Peachy.” Despite the darkness, he could see the gap between the two of you clear as day. Normally you’d sit on his lap with him during nap time while Sun took to doing a mid-day clean up.

“Is that so? I’m glad.”

The glow-in-the-dark stars of the nap room alongside Moon’s dimly lit eyes gave you just enough lighting to see the gap between you two. His leg twitched and you took to distracting yourself to look at a nearby napping child—time to see how the event from this morning would unfold.

The two of you sat in silence aside from the music box playing away in Moon’s chest. Careful to keep your eyes elsewhere, you’d occasionally catch the gap between the two of you growing smaller and smaller.

“What do you think of a sleepover tonight?”

Moon flinched, pausing mid-movement to process the question. “Sleepover? Tonight?”

“Mhm, I talked it out with Sun. Use the theater room and get pillows and blankets to cuddle up together.”

Harsh red lights lit up your face, nearly blinding you and risking waking the children. You slapped a hand over his eyes and they instantly dimmed. Well, that’s new.

You’d c-cuddle them? Of course, you’d done that before but that was…well before his current predicament. No, wait focus.

Your hand lingers on his eyes despite the light dimming, watching those tiny pinprick pupils stare at your hand. Oh right, it probably doesn’t feel great having someone’s hand on your eyes.

Before your hand can fully pull away and lose all contact Moon grabs it, shifting it to his cheek instead. It’s at that moment you feel his leg touch yours…he closed the gap you’d intentionally placed between the two of you.

Such a touchy little Moonpie.

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #five nights at freddy's #fnaf dca #moon fnaf #moondrop fnaf #moon x reader #fnaf daycare attendant #daycare attendant x reader #sun fnaf #sundrop fnaf #sun x reader

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meowzfordayz · 1 year

Text

when your anxiety spikes — inosuke, genya, sanemi

Author’s Note: just a lil fluff to end my evening (#writer is TIRED lol). ☺️😴

when your anxiety spikes — inosuke, genya, sanemi

Hashibira Inosuke x Reader, Shinazugawa Genya x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~800

CW: anxiety/panic disorder, death content

Emergency Request Fulfilled: This is going to be such a strange emergency request so feel free to ignore 😭 all day I’ve been smelling blood like an iron smell and it’s making me so unsettled😭 idk if it’s a nosebleed that won’t come out or if I’m Tanjiro now but I’m so unnerved by this

If you could write a little preference of sanemi Inosuke and genya calming down an anxious reader I’d appreciate it because I’m convinced I’m dying 😭

~faqs~

“Why’re you all jittery?” Inosuke mutters, placing a firm palm on your knee, “I’m hungry too y’know.”

Swallowing a wry chuckle, you rest your hand on top of his, reveling in his steadiness, “I’m not jittery because I’m hungry.”

“Then why’re you all wiggly?” he asks again, scowling with confusion, “You’re not usually this wiggly!”

“Only you would call feeling anxious wiggly,” you snort, amusement softening your gaze as his eyes widen in realization.

“Well why didn’t you say so?!”

Promptly shoving aside the imminent prospect of dinner, Inosuke’s full attention radiates intense and warm on your clammy, tired skin.

“Surprisingly, when I’m feeling anxious, I don’t feel like announcing that I’m feeling anxious,” you mutter quietly.

“But you still manage to be as sarcastic as ever,” he huffs, “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been smelling blood all day.”

“Blood?!” he nearly growls, “Are you injured?! ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“Inosuke,” an alarmed giggle forces itself through your nose, exasperated appreciation for his concern tamping down your still stirring anxiety, “You’re not helping.”

“Oh,” he immediately switches gears, suddenly so serious that your giggling continues, “I’m sure you’re fine. Stop overreacting.”

Silence fills the dining room as you slowly raise an eyebrow, goosebumps raising on his arms… 1… 2… 3…

“I’M SORRY, I DON’T KNOW HOW TO HELP.”

You burst out laughing at the gruff anguish in his voice, quickly pecking his cheek to soothe his own panic, “That’s quite alright, Inosuke. It’s the thought that counts. Thank you for caring.”

“Of course I’m going to care! I love you!” he declares loudly, clearly disgruntled toward himself.

“I know, I know,” you shake your head fondly, nodding toward the entrance as the door slides open, and the aroma of dinner seeps into the space, “And I love you. You’re probably right, I’m probably fine,” winking boldly, “And I know you’ll be here for me if I’m not.”

Aaand now Inosuke’s torn between scarfing down dinner or carrying you to his room for a cuddlefest.

SHINAZUGAWA GENYA

Genya’s composure cracks when your anxiety spikes — in a very soft, delicate, really-unlike-him manner. As soon as your breathing becomes uneven: his eyes narrow, he immediately mutters Bye to whoever he’s talking to (literally mid sentence too), and stalks over to your side. To anyone else, he likely appears pissed off, but the gentle way he covers your hand with his, guiding you away from the crowd (while glaring at anyone who seems even slightly curious about whatever’s occurring) — he’s the opposite of pissed off.

He’s quiet as he asks, “What can I do for you?”

He’s warm as he brushes your hip with his thumb, reassuring you of his physical presence, “Do I need to get someone?” Teach someone a lesson?

And devoted as he nods once, “We can go home. I was bored before we arrived anyway, everyone else sucks.”

And even though you’ll admonish him Genya, they’re our friends! They do not all suck, he’s more than content to play up his own disdain for social events and overwhelming spaces if it means getting to see your frazzled stare melt back to its usual sharpness — a tiny sliver pulsing with adoration whenever you decide to look at him.

“I smell blood all the damn time,” Sanemi grunts, “So what?”

“It’s not about the blood,” you sigh, arms crossed.

“Then what’s it about?” he sighs louder, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s about how the blood makes me feel.”

You feel a little silly attempting to explain your anxiety to him, but you know he means well… and you also know he really won’t understand unless you’re patient with him.

“I just feel anxious smelling it. Like, is there something wrong with me-”

“-no,” he can’t help interrupting, his affection for you slipping through.

You smile despite yourself, nudging his shoulder with a satisfied sound—he’s absolutely not blushing thank you very much he totally is—before continuing, “Am I imagining it? Is it something simple that will go away? Am I dy-”

“You’re not dying,” he interrupts again, this time with an eye roll, “I’d know if you were.”

The sincerity, the darkness, of his tone freezes you, somehow reassuring even as it seizes you.

“Not to be weird,” he grimaces, backtracking quickly as dread threatens to cloud your gaze, “I just- … you mean a lot to me, so I’d know if you weren’t okay. Physically. I’d tell you to report to Shinobu.”

“Tell me?” you ask lightly.

“Carry you there myself,” he smirks, confidence overcoming the heat in his face, “Because you mean a lot to me.”

“Ah.”

“Does that help?” he murmurs softly.

You gulp, calloused fingers squeezing your wrists as he guides you closer.

“Knowing that you mean a lot to me? Knowing that I’m looking out for you?”

You nod, smiling now as you meet his earnest stare, thrilled by his unexpected gift of vulnerability and sincerity — by his revelation of tender intent.

“You help,” you whisper, shyly kissing his chin.

“Good,” he whispers, kissing your forehead in return, “I’m trying my best.”

#preferences #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #hashibira inosuke #inosuke x reader #shinazugawa genya #genya x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 1 month

Text

Hard to Shake (M, cold)

Woof, that was too long of a hiatus. I'm back with some Greyson sickfic! In this, Greyson has a one night stand and ends up 'running into' his hookup in a not-so-stellar way. This was a fun write, I'm feeling a little rusty after taking a couple months off writing but I hope you all like it. Please let me know what ya think, good, bad or indifferent! :)

CW: M snz, colds, contagion, coughing, some M/M romance but nothing above PG-13 lol. 5k words (it's a slow burn, shocker, I know)

Hard to Shake

The club was dark, humid, and loud as fuck - just the way he liked it.

“I’ll get us drinks,” Matt said, disappearing into the crowd to push towards the bar without waiting on Greyson’s response. Not that he would have stopped his counterpart; Matt had a boyfriend waiting for him at the end of this black hole of a night. Greyson, alternatively, was on the prowl for a bed, and someone to share it with.

They had begun the night at two pm, just an hour after brunch ended, since the only way to get a proper buzz on a Sunday was to start early as hell. Elijah had closed the restaurant early – “We’ve had ten guests all day. It’s too damn hot for brunch, and I want to go home” – and Mark was currently on a plane home from England after a week spent with family; it was like the universe was begging them to go out.

The restaurant’s reservations had been capped at a tiny number the next two days to prepare for their food writer dinner on Wednesday, and Greyson was so nervous about this career-shaping dinner that he could barely keep himself from lapsing into panic attacks at the slightest provocation; it was Matt who insisted on the bender.

“We haven’t gone on a good one since Mark and I got together,” the sous chef had said after service. “And you need a drink, you're acting like a psycho.”

Greyson, never one to deny himself a good binge drink, had taken the bait and allowed himself to be paraded through the city for the rest of the day. Now, at eleven pm and with Mark back at his and Matt's place safe and sound, Greyson could feel the night coming to a close. Time to round it out with a good old-fashioned one-night-stand.

Without waiting for Matt to return with the drinks, Greyson sashayed onto the dance floor and began grinding on whoever seemed the most into it – he ground on a group of drunk men, twirled between two gorgeous women who laughed giddily through the song, and put his tongue into so many people’s mouths that he lost count. Of course it was fun; it always was. But the hunt for a bed partner had proven, thus far, unsuccessful.

“There you are,” Matt slurred, coming up behind his boss and shoving a whiskey into his hand. “Why do you always run off? I’m about three seconds away from getting you one of those toddler-leash backpacks.”

“Makin’ friends, Matty boy,” Greyson said, chugging his drink and slamming the glass onto the closest table he could find. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of goin’ home to a warm, naked man in our bed.” Greyson elbowed Matt playfully and the younger man rolled his eyes.

“Fair ‘nough,” he said, sipping his drink. “Hey, actually, I saw someone who was exactly your type back near the bar. Talkin’ about food and everything.” Greyson raised his eyebrows, intrigued, and Matt looped his arm into his boss’s and led him back towards the horseshoe-shaped bar. “Let’s see if we can’t get you fucked to sleep.”

Matt pushed the two of them through the crowd, his head on a swivel, until finally he spotted the man he’d been talking about. “There he is,” Matt said, pushing Greyson towards the bar. “Do your thing.”

The sous hadn’t lied; this man was quintessential Greyson’s type. Shorter than his six-foot-three-inches by about half a foot, perfect skin, hair coiffed in a way that just smelled of total pretentious douchebag, and a full blazer and dress pants at the club. Oh yeah, Greyson thought, pulling the elastic out of his sandy curls and shaking them to fall around his shoulders, there’s the rest of my evening.

“Hi,” Greyson said, pushing himself in front of whoever the guy had been talking to before. “Can I buy you a drink?”

***

In his defense, he hadn't known the condition of the man he'd left with until they got to his apartment. The club had been dark; he could barely hear the sound of his own voice, let alone the wheeze of someone else’s. And he’d been really, really drunk.

“Hh-! EISHH-oo! ISHH-oo!” The man – Reed, Greyson had learned his name was – curled into his elbow to sneeze as he pushed open the door to his apartment. “Shit, pardon mbe,” he muttered, clearing his throat and beckoning Greyson in. The chef, blasted as he was, simply ignored Reed’s constant sneezing.

“Now, where were we?” Greyson purred, pawing the back of Reed’s head and pulling it into his own. The two stood in the entry of Reed’s apartment – a truly incredible fifteenth-story one-bedroom in the Upper East Side with its own doorman – making out until Reed had to pull away to catch his breath.

“Shit,” he said again, panting, “sorry. Thought the worst of this fuckin’ cold was behind mbe but – ISHHOO! Snrf. Apparently ndot.” He wiped his nose on the back of his hand and cringed. “I understand if you don’t want to stay,” he said, giving Greyson an apologetic look.

Greyson remained unfettered. “Reed,” he said, taking a step back towards the other man. “Stop talking. And get in bed.”

Reed’s face colored. He opened his mouth to say something, but Greyson cut him off with another kiss.

“What did I just say?” Greyson asked, taking off his t-shirt and unbuttoning Reed’s expensive-looking button down. “Get in the bed -” - he yanked the shirt off the smaller man and licked him, navel to collar bone, prompting a moan - “- and let me take care of you.”

To his credit, Reed did as he was told. He did as he was told all night long.

***

“Lij, I don’t want to alarm you.”

“Greyson, I don’t want to hear it. Zip it. I’m being so serious right now.”

“I don’t want to alarm you,” Greyson repeated, slamming the rest of the bottle of Pedialyte and holding onto the prep table as if for dear life, “but I think I may be dying. I think I may need you to call me an ambulance.”

Elijah swung his chair around and strode towards the chef. He took the sunglasses Greyson had placed on his face the moment he walked inside the bright kitchen and tossed them across the room. He regarded the chef with an annoyance usually reserved for parents of crying toddlers at Disneyland.

“Your drinking antics, Grey, are what most people would describe as ‘a you problem’. You decide to get unreasonably wasted and then come in to prep one of the biggest dinners of your career? That’s a you problem. I don’t want to hear it. The only thing I want to hear is your knife going into and out of different types of food.��

“Does that mean you don’t want to hear about the incredibly hot guy I hooked up with last night?” Greyson asked, a smile blooming at his lips. Elijah, despite himself, felt his eyebrows raise halfway up his face.

“But you haven’t slept with anyone in months,” he said, annoyed at himself for taking the bait but too curious to stop himself from saying anything. “I thought you were on a self-imposed time-out?”

Greyson shrugged, pushed his hair into a bun at the top of his head, and secured it with an elastic. “I was,” he said. “But - and you’re not going to believe this, but it’s true – I am finally feeling… I dunno. Healed?”

“Healed?” Elijah asked, snorting. “I think you’ve been taking too many hot yoga classes. Like, spiritually healed?”

Greyson tipped his head back and forth, considering. “Kind of,” he said. “Like… ready. Moved on from Collin. Prepared to get back out there for real, not in a self-punishing way.”

Elijah whistled, long and low. “Wow,” he said, patting Greyson’s back. “Well, congrats, man. A little over a year and you’re finally back on your feet. That’s actually quite impressive.”

“Thanks,” Greyson laughed, shoving Elijah playfully. “I was also really drunk and you know nothing stops drunk-Greyson when he decides he’s going to sleep with someone.”

“There it is,” Elijah said, rolling his eyes and laughing. “So… tell me about him. Did you get his name?”

Greyson dead-panned his boss as he pulled knives out of his bag and cracked his neck. “Yes, I got his name, Elijah. That’s what healed people do, they get people’s names before sleeping with them, and I am, as previously stated, healed.”

Elijah flipped the chef off lazily, non-committal. “Well, out with it then,” he said. “What’s his name? Tell me about the night.”

“His name is Reed Parker, and we fucked til the sun came out,” Greyson said simply, laughing at his own gregariousness. He looked up when he realized that Elijah wasn’t laughing – in fact, his face had gone stark-white. “What?”

“Reed Parker?” Elijah asked, pulling out his phone. “You’re sure that’s his name?”

“Umm, according to him at least, yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a pan with a cleaned striploin in it. “Why, do you know him?”

“No,” Elijah said, pushing his phone towards Greyson. “But if that’s him, we’re going to know him in two days.”

Greyson looked down at the phone and felt the wave of nausea he’d been holding back all morning wash over him – oh. Oh, no.

Pulled up on Elijah’s phone was an Instagram post from The Foodie Society – a group of well-acclaimed food critics and writers in the city. The group that was hosting a dinner at Elliot’s in two days. The group that would likely be the deciding factor in whether Greyson got nominated for a James Beard award this year.

We are so excited to announce Reed Parker, writer of the extremely popular food blog, ‘Eat Like You Mean It’, as our newest Foodie Society member! Reed has been a prolific writer and food critic in the city for nearly five years, and we are so delighted to have him aboard. Can’t wait to collaborate with you, Reed!

Above the blurb was a photo of – undoubtedly – the man that Greyson had slept with the night before. He looked markedly healthier in the photo, and his hair was a little longer, but there wasn’t any was it wasn’t him. Greyson swallowed hard.

“Oh… shit,” Greyson muttered, lowering himself to the floor. “Oh, no.”

“Maybe he was drunk, too?” Elijah said, the panic clear in his voice. “Maybe he won’t remember?” Elijah kneeled down next to Greyson, trying to console him. “Hey, Grey, it’s alright. Obviously you guys didn’t know who the other one was. It’s not like he’s going to think you slept with him to get the nomination. It was just drunk sex. Right?”

“He gave me an out,” Greyson muttered, shaking his head. He looked up at Elijah, eyes wild. “Maybe he did know, or maybe he figured it out on the walk back to his place, because he gave me a fuckin’ out.”

“What do you mean?” Elijah asked, pulling Greyson back to his feet. The chef stood, but placed his head in his hands and his elbows on the prep table, as if to steady himself.

“He was getting over some sort of sickness, and he said he’d understand if I didn’t want to stay. He basically told me to get out and I just… fuck. I told him I didn’t care, and I stayed the night. Shit. I’m never going to get nominated now. There’s no fucking way.” Greyson rubbed both hands down his face and shook his head in disbelief. “I fucked myself.”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, taking his friend’s chin and lifting it so their eyes met. “You didn’t fuck yourself. Okay? He didn’t know it was you. It was a mistake, and also he’s brand new there, it’s not like he’s THE deciding factor. Just – wait, did you say he was sick?”

Greyson, his chin still in Elijah’s fingers, looked away from his boss with just his eyes. “Uhh… I mean, yeah, kind of, I guess. He had some sort of cold, I think.”

“You purposely slept with someone who was sick three days before this huge dinner?”

“Umm… did I mention I was really drunk?”

Elijah sighed loudly and threw his hands in the air. “Never a dull fuckin’ moment with you, is there?” he mumbled, storming into the office and pillaging through their medicine cabinet. He returned a moment later with Emergen-C and Airborne in his hands. “Take those.”

“Yes, sir,” Greyson muttered, pulling them to his side of the table. “Sorry.”

“I think it’s crazy that out of all the millions of people you probably saw yesterday, the one you just so happened to pick is a food writer who could decide your future fate who also had a fucking cold. There wasn’t a single other person in the city you could sleep with?”

“Apparently not,” Greyson muttered, pouring Emergen-C into his water bottle. Elijah took a deep breath before continuing.

“Let’s just… let’s try to get through the next couple days,” he said, heading back to the office. “I am glad you want to get back out there,” he continued from afar, “just maybe give them a cursory Google before you bang them next time. Okay?”

Greyson, completely deflated, just nodded. He swallowed and thought he could already feel a twinge of a sore throat, which would just figure. His dick had sealed his fate. Fuck.

***

Tuesday, May 12

NEW MESSAGE

Matt

3:53pm

r u almost back??? idk how much longer I can handle them at each others throats.

Mark

3:58pm

On my way back now! Are they at each other’s throats again?? I thought they were over it..

Matt

3:59pm

has elijah ever REALLY been over smthn..? & greyson’s going down fast af so hes pissy.

Mark

4:02pm

It seemed like he was in the downward slide when I left...ugh. ok, I’ll be back in 15!

“We are ndot,” Greyson said from behind his sous chef, “at each other’s throats.”

Matt jumped at the sound of his boss’s voice and quickly clicked his phone screen off. “Don’t read my private texts, Chef, that’s rude.”

Greyson shrugged and pulled a tissue out of the box on the desk next to Matt. “Don’t talk shit about your boss and you don’t have to worry about mbe being ruuhh – huh! Hh...IGTSZHH-ue! Hh-NTSHZH-ue!” Greyson crumpled into the jacket he’d pulled over his chef’s coat to sneeze. His hair fell over his face, blocking the grimace he hid as he sucked in through his nose.

“Bless you, moron,” Elijah called from the dining room. Greyson rolled his eyes so hard he felt it splinter in his head. Matt winced when he saw Greyson shudder with pain, and stood from the desk.

“The prep sheets for tomorrow are all written, Chef, tell me how I can help you,” he said, guiding Greyson into the chair. Greyson allowed himself to be sat down, despite his better judgment.

“I feel pretty good about -”

“You feel pretty good? Is that a joke?” Elijah asked, pushing through the swinging kitchen doors and leaning on the office door frame. Greyson gave his boss the dirtiest look he could muster and turned back to Matt without a word to his boss.

“I feel confident about the first three courses for tomborrow’s dinner, but the steak and dessert I feel like we’re way behind. Plus I have ndo idea how the guys are looking for service tondight, so pick which one of those you’d rather tackle and I’ll – hhuh! Hh...HUHESTZHH-ue! Fuck, snrf.” Greyson grabbed another tissue and blew his nose before finishing. “I’ll do the other onde.”

Matt nodded while Elijah stood wordlessly in the doorway. “I’ll get with the guys and help them with tonight, make sure it goes smooth,” he said. Greyson nodded back and his sous looked away and scurried towards the line. Elijah, in stark contrast, pushed past Greyson and sat at the other end of their shared desk, unwilling to look away from the mess that was the executive chef.

“How ya feeling?” he asked finally. Greyson pulled another tissue out of the box just in time.

“HRTSHH-ue!” he sneezed into the tissue and let a tickling flurry of coughs escape as well. Elijah sighed, looked into the kitchen, and reached past Greyson to shut the door to their office.

“How are you feeling,” he asked again. “Seriously.”

Greyson sighed wheezily and pulled a hand down his face. “Honestly?” he said, looking Elijah in the eye, “like fuckin’ shit.”

Elijah sighed as well. “You seemed okay when you came in this morning,” he said, as though it mattered.

“I felt okay this mborning,” Greyson admitted. “I mean, I felt like it was coming but I definitely didn’t feel this… shitty.” He shrugged. “It just… I don’t kndow. Hit mbe out of nowhere.”

Elijah nodded. “I mean, if you want to leave so you’re good for tomorrow, you know I’ll understand.” Greyson just scoffed.

“I have so mbuch shit to do before tomborrow,” he said, sucking in through his nose and coughing again. “There’s ndo way in hell.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Elijah sighed. “Fuck, Greyson. I’m really sorry.” He looked up at his friend, the true pity evident on his face. “I know how important this dinner is to you. It’s still going to be great, okay? If you need to par it down, do it. It’s not like they know what’s on the menu til tomorrow. I’m cutting off reservations tonight so you can go home early, okay? We’re going to make this work.”

Greyson had to set his jaw to keep from tearing up. “It’s mby own damn fault,” he said. “Ndo need to baby mbe – hh...HTSHH-ue! HRTSHH! NTSHH! Huh! Huhhh-ETSZHHH-uee!” Greyson collapsed into his own lap, lapsed into coughs again. Elijah handed him a water bottle, which he took the cap off of while wiping his nose with the other hand.

“Can we go back to you being a dick to mbe?” Greyson asked, his voice rough. “That I can handle.”

Elijah pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Sure, Chef. Get your lazy ass up and start prepping,” he joked, pushing Greyson’s arm lightly. “Sitting is for the weak.”

Greyson smirked, an attempt at a laugh that wouldn’t make him cough. “Thanks, Lij,” he said. “Let’s get this stupid fuckigg show on the road.”

***

Course One

Compressed Cantaloupe

tarragon | smoked sea salt | brown butter crumble

Reed sat in the cushy, velvet chair and attempted to make himself comfortable. He hoped beyond hope that this dinner would go as quickly as humanly possible.

After their little rendevouz at the club, of course Reed had looked Greyson up; in this day and age, who wouldn’t look up their previous night’s partner, if only to make sure they weren’t some sort of psycho killer. And after he looked him up, of course he realized that oh. It was that Greyson Abbott. The same one whose food he was about to be poised in front of. The one who he and his fellow writers gathered around this table were tasked with deciding whether or not he was worthy of a Beard nod.

Of course.

Reed shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. The other writers had started talking immediately and, this being his first dinner with them, he was feeling awkward and left out. He really could have used the distraction of talking about their craft, but apparently he would have to earn a word tossed in his direction. This was going to be a long evening.

At least the restaurant is beautiful, Reed thought to himself. He’d never been to Elliot’s before, and now he was kicking himself for it. The wrap-around bar, the view of the park, the chandeliers… everything was gorgeous. He just wished he wasn’t here with these people, under the circumstance that his fling was in the kitchen plating up. That put a bit of a damper on things.

“Good evening,” a husky voice came from the head of the table, and Reed whipped his head to see a gorgeous plate of food placed in front of him, and the absolute god of a man he’d slept with a few days before standing just feet from him. Reed swallowed hard.

“I’mb Greyson,” Greyson said, and Reed immediately clocked the congestion in his voice. So you did give him that cold. Asshole, Reed chided himself. Greyson attempted to clear his throat before continuing.

“If you’ll excuse mby voice, I’mb at the tail end of a cold,” he continued, and Reed felt his face flame. Tail end, he thought. Yeah, sure.

“Our first course is compressed cantaloupe,” Greyson said. “I hope you enjoy. Pardon mbe, I have to get back to screaming at mby cooks.”

The group laughed in earnest as the chef walked away. Reed, too embarrassed to even look at the other writers, just picked up his fork and gathered a bite on it. He stuck it in his mouth and closed his eyes.

Christ, Reed thought, he cooks as well as he fucks.

Course Two

Hamachi

yuzu pearls | grapefruit | coconut crème

“I swear to God, Mbatt, what is goigg on?” Greyson yelled the moment he walked back into the kitchen. “We’re already behind, and none of the hamachi is on the plates yet? Can we please get it the fuck together che – ehh! HhITSZHH-uh! HRITSZHH-ue!”

Greyson yanked his chef’s coat over his nose and mouth and ducked away from the plates. The cooks called, “Bless, Chef,” and Elijah came up behind him with Sudafed – “The good shit, from behind the pharmacist counter,” he’d promised Greyson earlier, when he made an emergency trip to Walgreens for medicine – and popped two into his hand.

“I just took two,” Greyson croaked, sucking in through his nose.

“Well, it sounds like they’ve already worn off,” Elijah countered. Greyson swallowed the pills and coughed. “Is he out there?”

“Of course he’s out there, Lij, did you think he’d cancel because of mbe?” Greyson said, washing his hands and heading towards the pass to place hamachi on plates. “Like you said, hopefully he doesn’t remember.”

“Hard to forget a giant, loud, blonde buffoon who’s sporting the cold you just got over,” Elijah murmured, and Greyson flipped him off. “Just saying,” Elijah said.

“I don’t have timbe to think about him,” Greyson said, swallowing painfully. “I can’t think about anything but this.”

Elijah nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “Let me jump in with the pearls.”

Course Three

Lamb Lollipop

harissa | mint chutney | bbq ‘chip’

“Pretty incredible, right?”

These were the first words uttered to Reed all night, said moments after the third course was placed in front of him and seconds after Greyson disappeared back into the kitchen. Reed could see him dip into an elbow to sneeze before he made it back to the kitchen. He cringed; poor guy. This was all his fault.

“Reed?”

The writer who’d spoken to him waved a hand in front of his face to snap him out of his stupor. Reed pulled his head back to the table and smiled. “Really incredible,” he said. “I mean, this guy has talent.”

“For sure,” the other writer said. “I mean, he’s been hoping for a Beard nod for years.”

“Yeah?” Reed asked, hungry for any bit of lore he could get about Greyson. The other writer dug into his lamb as he nodded.

“About five years,” he said. “The menu is deemed as one of the best in the city, and he changes it every single day. I mean, the guy’s an animal.”

Reed nodded slowly. He could only imagine how hard Greyson had worked, how nervous he was, especially with Reed's stupid ass sitting here to judge him. Especially when Greyson was sick as a dog.

“That he is,” Reed said, and he took another incredible bite.

Course Four

Rutabaga Tart

fennel | feta | cured egg yolk

“Matt can put these on the plates, Chef,” Elijah said, putting a hand on Greyson’s back. “Take a quick break before you have to talk to them again. Drink some water. Blow your nose.”

Greyson shook his head, pushed the flop sweat off his forehead. “This is mby shot. These are mby plates,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “I’mb here until the end.”

Elijah pressed his lips together and flashed Matt a look. The sous chef just raised his eyebrows and gave a little shrug. Once Greyson was like this… well, there was certainly no arguing with him.

“Okay,” Elijah said. “I’ll make you some tea, then.”

“Thank you, Lij,” Greyson managed, before ducking under the pass to sneeze into the collar of his chef’s coat. “God, fuck, I’mb gonna have to throw this thing away after this.”

“More like burn it,” Matt countered, prompting the first laugh from Greyson all evening.

“Burn it is right,” Greyson said. “HHITSZHH-ue!”

Course Five

Striploin

deconstructed bearnaise | white asparagus | duxelle

The fifth course was placed in front of them, and the writers looked up expectantly at Greyson.

“Forgive mbe,” Greyson said, his voice strained to a whisper. “I’ve yelled mbyself out in the kitchen, so mby number-two will introduce your last two courses.”

The writers tutted or laughed and looked over towards the sous chef – everyone except Reed. Reed was staring at Greyson, hoping he could hear his thoughts. I’m sorry you’re sick. I’m sorry I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

The sous finished the description and the writers began to eat once again. Reed was sure he could hear the younger chef say to Greyson, “Just one more, Chef,” as they walked back to the kitchen.

Reed sighed and took a bite of his steak. He closed his eyes; perfection.

He did not deserve to be here.

Course Six

Matcha Milk Bombe

coffee | pastry crumb

Greyson placed the final pastry onto the final plate and turned away to cough as the servers brought his final plate of food to the critics. He felt like he was attending his own funeral.

“I don’t think I can go out there again, Lij,” Greyson said, shaking his head and crouching down on the ground. “I can’t look at all of themb, I’ve embarrassed myself enough.”

“You haven’t embarrassed yourself at all, Grey,” Elijah promised, pushing Greyson’s sweaty hair out of his face. “But I understand if you’re too exhausted. I’ll go out for the last one, thank them all for being here.”

“Please,” Greyson said. Elijah nodded, stood, and left the kitchen to meet the writers, while Matt nodded towards the office.

“Go,” he said to his boss. “Sit. You did it.”

Greyson shook his head. “Gotta clean mbyself up first,” he said, standing and moving towards the kitchen doors. “I’mb using the damn guest bathroom, fuck those pretentious assholes.”

Matt laughed in earnest. “You’ve earned it for sure, Chef.”

Greyson slipped into the guest bathroom, hoping no one saw him, and locked himself in a stall. Finally, he sat down and let himself go.

“HITSHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed into the open, then quickly grabbed a handful of toilet paper to keep from becoming the restaurant’s biggest biohazard. “HTTSHH! IIITZSCHUE! Huh! Hh…. huh, huhhh… huhhETSZHHH-ue! Huh! HRRRSHHH! Fuuuck mbe.” Greyson blew his nose, beyond exhaustion. He felt like shit. He knew he looked like shit. He’d put out shit food, he’d been in a shit mood… this whole thing was just… shit.

Finally, feeling a little more cleared out, Greyson flushed the toilet paper and unlocked the stall. When he exited, he nearly jumped out of his skin. There, in the doorway, was his fling - Reed.

“Jesus,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his chest. “Give a guy a fuckin’ heart attack.”

Reed shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, then let Greyson by to wash his hands. “Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Bless you. By the way.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh. “Thangks,” he said, drying his hands. “Sombe cold you’re passing around town. Shouldn’t you be finishing your meal? Or was it so bad you’re here to hock it back up?”

“It was incredible,” Reed said earnestly. “Truly, Greyson. Thank you. I… I’m sorry. For being here, for getting you sick, I – I didn’t know that this place was… um… yours.”

“Mmm, more Elijah’s than mbine,” Greyson mumbled, looking away from Reed’s face. “But, uh… thank you. Glad you enjoyed. Hopefully it's ndot for nothing.”

"I don't think it will be. They all had nothing but good things to say. I'm just the grunt, but I mean...you have my vote. You're... You're incredible," Reed said, the words escaping his mouth before he could even consider what he was saying.

Greyson tried to hide a small smile by looking down. They both stood awkwardly until Greyson cleared his throat. “I, uh… better get back to mby guys,” he said, starting towards the door.

“I had an amazing time the other night,” Reed blurted out suddenly. “I, um… I haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually.”

Greyson smirked, the tension finally broken. “Yeah?” he asked. Reed nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “You’re… you’re hard to shake.”

Greyson took a step closer to Reed, looking him in the eye now. He sniffled, rubbed his nose, and crossed his arms, a smile dancing on his lips. “Who are you, Reed Parker?” he asked. Reed’s face flushed bright red.

“I – I don’t know what you mean. I’m a food writer.”

“Mmm,” Greyson nodded. “Well, Reed the food writer who can’t get mbe out of his mind, at the moment I’m a bit, uh… incapacitated. But,” Greyson pulled a Sharpie out of his coat’s side pocket and grabbed Reed’s hand, “if I’m still rattling around in your brain in a few days… give mbe a call.” Greyson coughed into his shoulder, capped the Sharpie, and gave Reed a little smile.

“I will,” Reed said, biting his cheek. “Thank you. For, um… dinner.”

Greyson paused, thinking, then took a bold step towards Reed, grabbed his chin in his hand, and planted a deep kiss on his lips. “It was my pleasure,” he said, and stepped out of the room.

Reed stood, flushed and breathless, for a moment. The kiss sat, swelling his lips, sweeter than any dessert he’d ever had; he looked at the number on his hand, felt his heart catch in his throat.

Greyson Abbott, he thought, looking towards the bathroom door. Holy shit.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snzblr #snez #male cold #male snz #ooo we have a new character hope you guys are into him bc i have ideas lol #im not a huge fan of the first part of this story but i really like the ending. whatever its fine #we're going with it. idk. i want to post it ive been looking at it for 8 hours so into the ether it goes #happy to be back :)

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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year

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I'm thinking of sweetheart being the mother of task force 141 when laswell isn't there like in the middle of the night when sweetheart is sleeping and just wakes up when she hears the door creaking and looks at the door and sees one of the boys looking like they were crying and they ask if they could cuddle with then because they had a nightmare and sweetheart just coos at them pats the empty spot so they can lay on and sweetheart spoons them making on of the boys feel safe and falls asleep immediately while sweetheart is slowly scratching their head

And then sweetheart falls asleep and when she wakes up of the cod boys are in her room, asleep and she just laughs and gets out of bed and go make some breakfast and coffee or tea for them

Like AHHODHDHEBR like if ghost was the one he would have slight tears in his eyes or konig I know damn well he would be holding a tiger teddy-

Fucking sobbing on the floor for this shit

I AM TOOOOO WTF THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😭😭😭 König holding a tiger teddy that he's had ever since he was a kid is making me ferallLLLLLLAAHHHH

LIKE MY MATERNAL INSTINCTS ARE JUST KICKING INNNNN

And I'm sorry- all I saw was König and tiger stuffy and now this whole thing is just about him AHAHANA

Brown Palace and Grey Oceans

(Help this got so long-- it always starts off funny and then i try to be an actual writer smh YOU'LL SEE WHAT I MEAN)

(I honestly don't know what König looks like... even the wiki lore isn't saying anything so I kinda just made him up myself 😅 like how everyone does LOL)

Süße Torte = Sweet Pie

Cw.: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFY FLUFF

Word count: long. (IDK HOW TO DO A WORD COUNT)

Yk damn WELL König would open her door as quietly as possible and tip toe to her. He would second guess waking her up cause she looks so damn peaceful sleeping. Her eyelashes laying gently on her soft cheeks, the moonlight shining on her brown skin, making her look ethereal. But he needs comfort right now. The nightmare he had, he can't deal with that by himself.

So he would gently shake Sweetheart's shoulder. And she would SO wake up like a parent would: gasping for air, wide eyed and jerking back. He would step back and apologize. He thinks this was a bad idea but Sweetheart stops him.

Sweetheart, wiping her eyes and sleep in her voice: What's wrong hun?

König, holding his tiger to his side: Uhm... I had a bad... very bad dream.

He breathes in deep, tears welling in his eyes.

König, voice shaking: Can I please sleep with you...?

Sweetheart could hear her heart break. Seeing such a unit of a man be dwindled down to this... (I WANNA HUG HIM)

Her eyebrows knit together, sad that he feels this way. She scoots over and pats her bed. König sniffs, hand rubbing his nose under his home hood. (The brown embroidered hood Sweetheart made him for the base)

He squeezes in there, both of them getting situated in her already small bed. Sweetheart has most of the blanket, but König doesn't care. As long as he's with someone. (Sweetheart specifically)

He turns to her body, face now in her bosom. His eyes go wide, and he looks up at her. She smiles warmly at him. Her eyes go to the little tiger teddy he's holding in his hands. She coos at him.

Sweetheart: How long have you had that?

König feels embarrassed. He kinda forgot he even brought it with him, as it's his comfort companion. (His grandma found it in the attic and sent it to him)

He curses as he hides it behind his back, but Sweetheart grabs his arm. She holds the stuffed tiger, a cute tiny smile and round ears with stripes loosely sewn on the fading base. A big black button for the eye, but the other one is missing, it's just an opening. It's missing a tail, and some tears are on the body. A very old stuffed animal, but Sweetheart can tell it's loved.

Sweetheart: it's so cute... what's the name?

She's not judging him. A grown man, standing at a whopping 6'10, owns an old tiger stuffed animal that he has had ever since he was a child. And she's not judging him. Not laughing in his face and kicking him out. She's asking what his name is, with curiosity in her eyes. How is she real?

König, whispering: ....Hobbes.

Sweetheart: Pardon?

König, speaking a bit louder: His name is-- is Hobbes.

Sweetheart, gasps: Like from Calvin and Hobbes?

König, perks up: You know of those comics?

Sweetheart, giggling: Hell yeah! I used to read them constantly when I was younger. I still have them actually at my home! You could read some if you want when I go back.

König, getting excited and feeling better: I would love that, Süße Torte. Thank you.

Sweetheart, smiling and giving Hobbes back to him: No problem. Are you feeling tired?

He nods his head, about to take off his hood but stops himself. He looks at Sweetheart, eyes asking 'Should I take this off? Will you be uncomfortable?' She looks back him. 'The real question is, will You be uncomfortable if you take it off?'

König thinks on this. He looks back at her brown eyes. Her soft, dark eyes. Eyes that suck him every time he looks at them, entering the smoky quartz palace he would stay in forever. Eyes that always make him feel safe, wrapping him in the darkest color of silk. Eyes that hold many stories and love. Sensual, trustworthy eyes. He can trust her.

König: I trust you.

He takes it off and places it on the floor, face bare and open to the world. He could have sworn Sweetheart's eyes sparkled with actual stars when they got wide. His messy, auburn brown hair is swept back. Thick, soft angeled eyebrows nervously twitch under the hard stare from the woman.

And his eyes, oh, his round, gentle eyes. The ones that light up and shine when she looks at them. The grayish green tint reminded her of clear ocean water, wanting to swim in them forever. Eyes that hold many stories and many secrets. Beautiful eyes. He's beautiful to her.

With his crooked and scarred nose, he has broken many times over the years. Pink downturned lips, curtained over with a thin brown beard on a sharp jaw.

König gulps, eyes still focused on hers. They're staring into each other's color, too far gone to come back to reality. Sweetheart breaks it after what it felt like hours. She starts to laugh quietly, making König confused and a bit self-conscious. She looks back up at him.

Sweetheart, scoffing in disbelief: Who would've thought you were so pretty under those hoods...

He can't breathe.

Sweetheart, still shocked: I mean I never would've guessed. You're... wow.

She places her hand on his sharp cheek. Skin on skin. Warmth. He can feel it. Finally.

Sweetheart: You're really beautiful, Y'know that König?

He can't-- this- it's too much. Overwhelming. Her warm hand, the soft awe look in her eye, her scent, her words, her eyes-- it's too much.

He dips into her neck, hiding his face as his hands wrap around her.

König, beet red: Can we please just- go to sleep? My heart... my heart can't take much more of this.

Sweetheart giggles, wrapping her hands on his head.

Sweetheart: of course.

Her long nails scratch the nape of his neck, almost making König purr. He relaxes into her, molding his body against hers, as they finally give themselves to the night.

König woke up on an empty bed. The sunlight poked at his eyes, telling him to start his day. His hand feels the cozy sheets, where Sweetheart's supposed to be. Sweetheart. Where is she?

He rolls over but falls on the floor with a huge thud and a yelp, and her items shudder from his clumsiness. He grabs his hood as he gets up, stretching his sleepy body. How long was he asleep? It felt like a coma. But nonetheless, he feels extremely well rested, with Sweetheart in his arms and Hobbes-- wait a minute...

Where's Hobbes?

His heart rate picks up as he speeds walk out of her room. Are the others awake? Is she showing them? Making fun of him? No, no please no.

He gets out of his head when he Sweetheart in the living area alone, repairing Hobbes. She hums as she works with a smile, bonnet still on her head, wearing a big sweater and leggings with her legs crossed. She ticks up and sees König.

Sweetheart, waving at him: Good morning, baby! How'd ya sleep?

Baby?

Baby. She called him baby.

König stumbles back a bit. He shakes his head and clears his throat, an overwhelming feeling replacing the over-thinking.

König: yeah. I mean- fine! Good. Wonderful. I slept wonderfully. It was... I needed that. Thank you.

Sweetheart, chuckling: Of course! By the way, there's coffee and some eggs I made you in the kitchen. If you want it.

König, feeling his heart melt: Oh, thank you Süße Torte. I appreciate it.

She nods her head, continuing back to repairing Hobbes with her needle and thread. König relishes this feeling. The feeling of them being the only ones awake, the feeling of having breakfast made, the feeling of enjoying one's presence. It felt right. It felt domesticated. It felt...

Like they were together. In a relationship. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Husband and wife.

He shakes his head, almost spilling the sugar he was pouring for his coffee. He looks back at Sweetheart, still in her own world, being her. Being perfect.

Boyfriend and girlfriend. He scoffs, mixing his coffee. Please, that will never happen.

You're really beautiful, y'know that König?

He stops.

You're... wow.

His heart beating fast yet sinking at the same time. A small sick feeling in his stomach but butterflies in his chest. He collects his eggs and coffee and places it on the table before heading to Sweetheart on the couch. He sits across from her, watching her working hands, nimble and caring to Hobbes' tears. She sees him and smiles, showing her work.

Sweetheart: Look! I'm almost done sewing up his little scars. I also fixed his eye and tightened his ears and limbs! I need to wash and refill him, though.

She went on and on, rambling on what to do for Hobbes. König smiles. He hasn't done that in so long. He takes off his hood and places his hand on her knee. Their eyes meet, hers sparkling again from seeing his face.

König, sincerely smiling: I thank you for all that you have done for me. In just a short time... I feel like I found myself again.

Sweetheart beams. She's so glad she could help him out. Seeing König in that state last night makes her heart feel heavy, but none of that. He's happy. He's relaxed. He's grateful.

Her hand rests on top of his, and he moves his into hers, Sweetheart's now perched atop of his. The sun smiles on their eyes, their different colored crystals gleam bright.

Sweetheart: You're welcome.

They stayed like that, enjoying each other's company until they were sucked in.

Her Brown Palace and His Grey Oceans.

Lil Bonus.!

Sweetheart: Have you noticed that Hobbes doesn't have a tail?

König, snickering: Yes, I know. When I was little, Krueger would fight me over Hobbes. And one day, he pulled on it so hard that he ripped off the tail. I cried for days.

Sweetheart:

Sweetheart, getting up: Imma choke him out.

König: Sweetheart no that was years ago!

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Thank ya for reading ♡🙏

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th3-3d3n-g4rd3n · 16 days

Note

OK BUT i can’t get the idea of you and Nishinoya getting close for the first time and he accidentally call you mommy! He would shut his eyes trying not to cry out of embarrassment until he finds out that, you liked it. He would have never guessed someone like you would be into something so lewd!

I hope this helps with your writers block ^_^

I am HEARING YOU.

virgin! sub! Nishinoya x dom leaning! fem! reader

(aged up Noya)

cw: mommy kink (obviously), friends with benefits, riding, embarrassed Nishinoya, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), overstimulation, dacryphilia (if you squint)

585 words

When you found out that Noya was still a virgin from a game of truth or dare, a lightbulb went off in your head. Obviously, you had to offer to take it (right?) and… he said yes.

So, that’s how you got here. Sat on the desperate boy’s lap, his hands pawing on your ass, his flustered face hiding in the crevice of your neck. You take notice of how reactive the boy is to your subtle grinds and playing with his hair, you hadn’t done much yet and he was red to the tips of his ears, small mewls escaping from his swollen lips.

“You’re so cute, Noya” you say. He coils further into you and starts to kiss your neck as a way to hide his growing moans. You stand up and start stripping, Noya taking his time to observe every curve of your body, ignoring how hot his cheeks felt, then taking the hint to take his clothes off too. Lets just say, you don't know where he was hiding that.

Slowly, you sink on to his dick and start to grind, slowly getting used to his size. His grip on your hips tightened and his head flew back at the feeling of your warm walls, mouth agape. He let out a string of erotic moans, you'd never heard anything like it.

"Feeling good, baby?" you ask him, a smug smirk on your face; he was adorable. He gently nodded at your question, even though it didn't need an answer since it was obvious.

His face winced and his nose scrunched as you started to bounce on his dick, slowly getting faster and faster. That was until you heard him say "S-slow down, please! I'm too close, Momm-"

You freeze in your tracks, "What did you say?" He paused and realised what he'd said, "Shit, I'm so sorry..." he spoke, hanging his head in shame. "Hey, look at me." You lift his chin up but his eyes remained lowered. "It's not a bad thing, Noya. I like it," you told him. His eyes shot up to meet yours, revealing his teary waterline and flushed cheeks. "Y-you do? I never thought that you'd be into something like that!" he borderline shouts out of shock.

"You never asked." You continue moving at a fast pace, catching him by surprise, letting out a pornstar whine. Soon after, you felt quick spurts of hot cum fill you up, "Cum already, baby? I'm not finished with you yet." and, you weren't so, you kept moving up and down on him.

He was squirming and writhing beneath you from overstimulation and the tears of embarrassment from before quickly started to fall being urged out by the mixture of pain and pleasure, "S-slow down, please! Mommy! It's too much! S-stop!" he whines, "do you actually want me to stop?" you question, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. He hangs his head down and shakes it no.

Quickly, you feel the warm, familiar knot in your stomach building up, "I'm gonna cum baby, come with me?" you ask, he nods his head, unable to confirm verbally due to the never-ending string of moans coming out of his mouth instead.

You eventually feel the knot release, the tightning of your walls coaxing him to the finish line as well. You feel his grip on your hips tighten impossibly, definitely leaving a bruise tomorrow but, that was unimportant. You feel his body relax below you, you relaxing with him.

"Shit, we need to do that again."

#nishinoya #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya x reader #haikyuu nishinoya #haikyuu #sub character #sub x reader #sub nishinoya #sub haikyuu

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flxrartsstuff · 1 month

Text

Play with me

NanamixfemReader!

Authors note: Thanks to @princeasimdiya12 for my very first request and this interesting idea! It definitely helped me to get over my writers block. I hope you all can enjoy it! ^^ To let off some steam, Nanami gets lost in a love hotel. What would you do if you had a man like Kento Nanami in your hands? What would it be like for him to be unable to move and completely at your mercy? As an employee of this love hotel Y/N gives him a very special kind of show before she gets what's hers.

Cw: unprotected, rough, clit play, nipple play, masturbating, (dry) cock riding, gagging, duct tape mummification, swearing

He parked the car in front of the building and turned off the engine. He still couldn't believe that his path had brought him here. The normally controlled and always conscientious man had actually strayed into an area that he didn't really want anyone to find out about. Tired, he rubbed his hand over his striking face, took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose, groaning. The neon lights of the building were bright and impossible to miss. They indicated a certain establishment, a love hotel. He wanted to let go of the stress and pressure, wanted to forget everything for an evening and a few hours. He had heard about this place a few times before, but had always pretended to not really care about stuff like that. Especially when his colleagues talked about what the employees there did to their customers. However, he had found himself driving to this place to - as the others had put it so nicely - let off steam.

And here he was.

Kento sighed as he took the room keys from the receptionist‘s hand. He would have never expected him of all people to visit a love hotel. But sometimes loneliness hits everyone of us, doesn‘t it?

Walking through the long and noble hallway, he searched for the room 666. Just the number of that room gave him a bad feeling, but his excitement to try out new things made him move towards the door he is looking for. The wooden door came into his sight, being adorned with golden frames and a small shield that displayed its number. With hesitation he moved the keys to the lock. He can feel how his muscles were tensing up. A drop of sweat rolled down his temple and a searing heat courses through his body. A heat that made him want to take his clothes off in an instant.

»There‘s no need to be shy, come in.« a female voice echoed from the other side of the door, causing him to flinch. His heart skipped a beat and he gulped, slowly unlocking the door and opening it.

A large room came into his sight, filled with an erotic and noble furniture that sure matched to the atmosphere of this hotel. Red walls surrounded him as he steps in, and only a dim red light from above illuminates the dark room. Black furniture matched well to the black and large bed that is right in front of him, being covered by red bed sheets. On the wall next to the bed were hanging tons of sexual toys that were for anyone‘s taste. He was curious if one of these would fit into his desires.

He gasped softly as the door closed behind him all of a sudden, and he turned around, finding a woman standing behind him. Her hand was pressing against the door, and she gazed at him with her [e/c] eyes that could lure anyone in. The red lingerie she wore attracts Kento‘s gaze immediately. After all, its erotic lace would make literally any man crazy. The way how her bra pushed her breasts together, squeezing them tightly, caused Kento‘s mouth to become dry. His excitement took him over. Something he would not let slide. But that woman right in front of him, she knew what she was doing. And she was doing it damn right.

She grinned at him, slowly approaching him with confident strides. Her hips moved with every step she made until she stopped right in front of him.

»I was told that you need someone to play with you, is that right?« she slyly asked him, her dark lips letting a melodic voice escape out of her throat. She put her hands on his chest, gently sliding them up and down.

He merely nodded in reply, being too stunned to speak. After all, [Y/n]‘s body was a sight for sore eyes. And just the thought of having her play with Kento makes him feel utterly aroused. Stepping even closer, she pressed her entire body tightly against him so that her crotch touched his length through his pants. She can feel that he had gotten hard already. Though, it just needed a little bit more tease to make him crazy.

»Why don‘t you just take that off, huh? We don‘t need anything of that.« she breathed softly, helping him get out of his suit that had been tightly clinging onto his body.

Until the very last cloth had been removed from his body, she undressed him, revealing his semi-hard length to her hungry gaze. He felt embarrassed, however, this embarrassment is just one part of the game. She softly pushed him onto the large bed, caused him to lie on his back and look up to her curvy figure. His breath quickened as she approached the toys on the wall.

So many different objects that Nanami himself was completely unaware of what they were even used for. But she knew exactly which one she would use to get the most out of her pleasure. He watched as she took a thick roll of tape from the shelf and approached him at the bedside. It wouldn't be an easy one, yet she began to wrap it around his mouth and then the rest of his broad body. Until he was completely at her mercy. He seemed more excited at first, but this subsided as the last piece covered and she looked down at him with satisfaction. Unable to say anything, she heard his pleas covered by the tape. She giggled happily, moved to his side and ran her fingers over his face.

»Don't worry, you'll love it.« Her voice sent a shiver down his spine, the air escaping through his nose with a hiss. She stood in front of the bed so that he had a full view of her. His eyes wandered wearily over her appearance, over her curves that he couldn't touch now. Urgent and begging, his eyes seemed to be telling her to do something. Anything. So that he could at least imagine what it would be like to touch her skin, taste her and fill her up. It was unbearable to just lie in front of her and wait. She tossed her hair back, running her hands over her body and pulling at the straps of her bra. His nostrils flared instantly, his eyes widened, another muffled sound left his lips.

»Ghmph!«

»Watch me...« she ordered, as if he had any other choice. She undid her bra and let it move agonizingly slowly down her shoulders. Bit by bit, she bared her wonderful breasts, which had already caught Nanami's eye when he entered the room. His breathing quickened as the garment disappeared. It fell muffled to the floor, where he was now staring at her nipples, which would have tempted him to suck on them until they were hard and red. Instead, he just had to watch again as she grasped them both with her hands and teased their peaks with her fingers. She sighed softly, looking directly into his eyes and seeming to imagine exactly what he would have done with them. She saw him squirming and twirling around under the tape, but to no avail. She had done a damn good job of making him unable to move. Her slender fingers constantly circled over her rosy and tender skin, so untouched and unprotected and so close to reach for him. His eyes were mesmerized, dark and lust-obscured, watching her every move. She moaned unashamedly and cheekily as she fueled herself.

»You like that?« She didn't expect an answer, yet he nodded eagerly, his face glowing with heat, while even through the tape she could see his unmistakable bulge. His cock carried nothing but the prison around it and bumped against it agonizingly. He just managed to keep himself from begging how badly he needed it. How desperately he wanted to free it so that he could show his dangerous temptation called Y/N, what felt right. And how he would have grabbed her, drag her over his knee and given her pretty ass a few smacks for driving him so crazy. As if that wasn't enough, one of her hands was already lost on the way down, sliding over her stomach and stiffening the hem of her panties. First she slid her fingers over the piece of fabric, rubbed over her middle and slid between her legs. She gasped excitedly when she could feel that she was already wet. Nanami moaned through the tape, again only muffled sounds. He threw his head back, the only thing he could do, and quickly looked back at her so as not to miss a moment. To say he needed it was an understatement. He was horny as hell and wanted her.

»Mmm…« she mumbled, »I'm so wet...«

Again he expelled the air from his nose, watching her hand move into her panties and straight down to her pussy, one hand still massaging her breast. She stood there, in front of him, doing it to herself. And he couldn't help but watch this spectacle. Fuck. Never before had he thought lust would kill him, but it seemed like that was what was happening. Could he move? Could he somehow manage to rub his cock against the tape and cum with her?

She lifted her hand from her pussy and up to her mouth, her gaze fixed only on him. Her tongue licked over her own wetness and he imagined it was his mouth, his mouth between her legs and tasting her until she came in desperation. He watched as she slipped off her skimpy panties and now stood completely naked in front of him. Her hand wandered unashamedly between her legs and continued the wild play, rubbing at her pussy to drive herself to climax. Nanami felt the hardness of his cock, so much that it hurt and there was nothing he could do about it. It was so clearly visible, despite the tape, that she quickly took the initiative and sat right on top of him. Moaning, he reared up at the contact of her body on his. That alone almost brought him to climax.

»Mmh, Fuck!!« His chest rose and fell violently, with all the strength he had, he wanted to thrust, wanted to match the movements of her hips. She rubbed herself against his bulge, right where his cock was, rubbing her pussy through the tape. A hot trail of her moisture spread across it as she rode him, moaning across the room for more. A wonderful picture played out before his eyes, of her breasts jumping forward with every rub, the weight of her body pressing perfectly on his cock. Her voice was driving him crazy. The whole room smelled of her arousal. Despite his inability to move, Nanami enjoyed seeing and hearing her like this. Growling and humming through the tape on his mouth, he seemed to be urging her not to stop.

»Mmm, ymmh, ymmh…ghmm..g-ghmm…«

Whatever he wanted to say, it sounded urgent and desperate. His whole face was burning up, he was sweating and threw his head back, while Y/N became faster and faster, her movements even more violent and firm. She rubbed herself against him like he was her personal toy.

»Fuuuck, ah…« she moaned loudly, feeling his hard cock underneath her, but it just wasn't enough for her. She wanted to feel him deep inside her, cum on him and ride his cock. Impatient as they had both become, sweating and groaning for their climaxes, she tore off the tape over his erection so that he finally sprang free, completely hard and pulsating. His eyes fixed on her, he mumbled something again through his closed mouth and thrust his pelvis towards her. Blonde strands of his hair stuck to his forehead as she sat on his lap again, letting his cock slide slowly and agonizingly into her wet center.

»Mmm, ymmh…«

Y/N sank herself completely onto him, his cock deep inside her, touching her wet, tight caves and widening them with pleasure. She threw her head back, held on to him and began to move. He lay detached beneath her, finally she complied with his tantalizing request and he let that happen with relish. Her body moved skillfully on his. She constantly let his cock slide out of her pussy, only to let it sink completely back inside her. Her wetness mixed with his pre cum made her slide on and off him quickly and easily. She knew exactly what she was doing and Nanami happily submitted to this ordeal, which he hadn't thought was so necessary. She leaned forward, directly over his face, wanting to see him come. Without being able to touch her at all, he felt the climax coming inside him. His cock burned with heat and the tip hit your sweet spot inside her every time, making her scream a little louder each time. The bed moved in time with her movements, banging against the wall every time.

»Oh g-god…I'm about to cum…!«

An approving gasp came from Nanami, whose orgasm was no less distant. She rubbed her clit in front of him at the same time, just as fast as she rode him, and moaned onto his face. Her face reflected pure lust, her eyebrows drawn together and her mouth so wide open that saliva wanted to drip down the corner of her mouth. Kento watched her eyes rolling back as it hit her and how her sweet pussy tightened around his cock, everything pulsed into a violent explosion. His body reared up with all its might as he thrust up into her and growled fiercely under the tape.

Hot cum shot straight into her tight and hot walls, covering her whole pussy in his white semen. Nanami growled like a wolf, his body still jerking off in fast movements against hers, til she milked him all dry. The woman’s body was shaking as well, sweat covered her forehead that was pressed to his one.

Y/N whispered lowly some kind of curses and words, unable for any straight sentence. She had many customers before, but she wouldn’t forget that delicious face of Nanami cuming under her like that. After a while she took off the tape of his mouth only, a desperate steam of breath leaving his lips.

»Fuck.« was the only word his dark and shaky voice was now able to say. His afterglow displaying on his whole face was the best view she ever witnessed and she wondered how many times she could bring him to this state. One thing for sure, she definitely couldn’t get enough of this man.

#jjk smut #smut #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #nanami kento smut #kento x y/n #nanami kento x reader #kento smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut

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calypsocolada · 8 months

Text

TWO CAN PLAY AT THAT GAME | r. itoshi

synopsis: rin sets his sights on you. authors note: i was possessed writing this, i don't think i'm good at smut lol you writers on here that write smut are very talented haha anyways enjoy! cw: MDNI, college aged characters, SMUT, tiny bit of obsessive behavior, mutual masterbation, fingering, handjob, overall sinning wc: 3k

--------------------------------------------------------

One thing Rin Itoshi hated more than anything was to lose. He always had a plan, he got everything he wanted. Straight A’s, he got into the best college in the country, won awards and sports championships. He liked the control of being the best there was. He liked seeing the look in someone's eye when they lost hope, when they knew they’d been beaten by him. He loved that control. Had everything he wanted… until recently.

Someone transferred to his college, someone beautiful and decorated. A movie star’s daughter. She was flawless, smart and the next thing Rin needed to obtain. But he knew he couldn’t look at it that way. Knew you couldn’t be something he bullied into taking, you weren’t an object. You had thoughts and feelings and the moment he showed his true colors to a girl like you he’d never have you for his own.

Never once has any interest in a girl ever taken hold the way you had. The way you walked, so sure, like you floated stepped on air. Rin couldn’t stop thinking of your soft features and sharp eyes, like you could see right through any of his lies and deception. Rin knew to be weary. If Rin were to ever go about his life, someone like that needed to be by his side. Sure he could do things on his own, he’d done it time and time before. But something had finally clicked into place for him. He wanted you. He’d have you.

Someone had spoken your name during class and it swam around Rin’s head for hours. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’d scrawled it somewhere in his coursework with hearts dotted around it. Even your damn name struck a feeling in Rin, butterflies dancing in his gut. He’d met you just once, you were in three of his classes but sat opposite of him. He’d run into you, literally, in the library late one night. You had gasped, dropping your laptop and luckily Rin reacted swiftly, catching it before it could crash to the ground.

“Sorry!” He’d apologized, breathlessly. “Are you alright?” Rin watched with observing eyes as you tucked a curl behind your ear, nodding your head before looking up at him, a smile on your perfectly pink lips.

“I’m alright, thank god you caught that!” You said as he handed you the laptop back. “Sorry, I was in a hurry. You’re alright as well?” You asked as Rin could feel his heart beating in his chest, eyes meeting in the soft light of the library. You were the definition of beauty. Slowly he nodded his head and the smile on your lips grew a bit as you reached out, barely brushing his arm. “I’m glad. I- I’ve seen you before, right?” You asked and Rin inaudibly cleared his throat, forcing himself into composure.

“That’s right, we have a few classes together. I’m Rin.” He says and you suck in a breath, nodding your head in recognition.

“Yes! Of course! You’re all the girls around here talk about. I’m y/n.” You answer and Rin blushes slightly.

“They do, huh? Good things?” He asks as you smile like you're holding a dear secret.

“You could say that.” You answer just before a boy behind Rin clears his throat. They both move to look as Rin clenches his jaw. Ryuusei Shidou, walked up, sliding an arm around your shoulder. Shidou smirked.

“Itoshi, I see you’ve finally met my girlfriend.” Shidou said.

From that moment Rin seized a plan. Jealousy and anger coursing through his veins he vowed to win. You could do much better than Ryuusei Shidou. The man was a walking second place trophy, a stand in before Rin made his move. But he needed to be smart about it.You were a kind girl, you wouldn’t just dump someone for no good reason. That’s why Rin couldn’t believe his luck when you had come to him and asked him to tutor you in your shared advanced biochemical class.

He couldn’t believe it.

He agreed and for months they met four times a week and sat together for hours. You’d told him things he wished he was the only one who knew. Like that your father may be some big hot shot actor but still calls you once a day to check in. The best thing of all that he found out was that you were frustrated with Shidou. He was barely around and when he was he was distracted, never paying attention to you. Rin knew what that meant, the first crack in the glass and he knew what his next move was.

His suspicions were confirmed when he just so happened to hear you talking quietly to your friends. He only needed to hear one thing before his plan was complete. Shidou hadn’t touched you in months and you were starting to feel unwanted.

You were about fifteen minutes late and when you ran in you almost tripped over the rug on Rin’s floor. You laughed, embarrassed. You apologized, running a stressed hand through your hair.

“Sorry,” You started, grabbing out things from your backpack, breathing a bit heavily.

“Everything alright?” Rin asked, his voice soft. You cleared your throat, nodding your head.

“‘Course!” He knew that was a lie, but he didn’t want to push it.

“Alright, well let me grab you something to drink, maybe some tea? I know you hate coffee.” Rin asks as you smile over at him thankfully. To Rin it seems you appreciate him not only giving you space but remembering the things you liked.

“Sounds good.” You answer with a smile, setting down in your usual spot. Rin fixed you some hot tea, setting it carefully in front of you before grabbing some snacks for you to munch on. About a half hour into the session you both decided to take a break.

“You’re really good at teaching, you know?”You say as you lean against the headboard of the bed beside Rin, he looks over at you.

“You think?”

“Yeah!” You smile. “You’re patient and you take time explaining things, making sure I understand.”

“Well, you’re a quick learner.” Rin says as you scoff a soft laugh.

“I appreciate that. I also appreciate you for helping. Everyone else just scoffed at my face. Said I had everything handed to me and that this would be a rude awakening.” You say and Rin furrows his brows, shaking his head.

“Who said that?”

“Well first the professor. Guess he isn’t a big fan of my father.” Rin sits up straight, mouth slightly agape.

“Wait? Seriously?” He asks incredulously as you nod your head.

“Yeah! I told him it wasn’t professional and he just laughed in my face, said it didn’t matter if I got him fired because he was quitting at the end of the year anyway.”

“What an asshole.” Rin sighs, placing a soft hand on your leg. “Sorry that happened to you. I’m glad you came to me for help.” He says, his voice low, eyes locked on yours. Your cheeks turn pink as you avert your eyes, nodding your head.

“Me too.” You say, your voice a bit uneven. Rin knew it was working, he could feel something growing between you both. Rin didn’t remove his hand, just let it stay there, a step forward that could be easily shrugged off but you didn’t move his hand. Slowly Rin moved his thumb against your leg, his eyes on his hand as he felt your eyes on it as well.

“Can I ask you something?” Rin asked just below a whisper, his breath hot against your shoulder. He felt you shutter slightly before audibly swallowing, nodding your head.

“Uh huh.” He was sure you answered that because you weren't quite able to form words properly.

“How are you and Shidou?” Just as Rin’s lips spoke the question he dipped his hand a bit further towards the inside of your thigh. Your breath lurches in your throat and a small noise escapes your lips. You swallowed, trying to gain some composure but your mind was fuddled and muddy, thoughts crashing in your mind.

“S-Shidou?” You ask shakily, you turn to look at Rin, he gives you the smallest of nods, his brows raising slightly. “R-right, Shidou. Uh- he, we--,” Slowly you feel Rin’s fingers trail up your leg, your stomach burns as your core lights. Almost like it was done absentmindedly, Rin’s fingers fiddled with the bottom of your skirt, seemingly waiting for you to answer. “Honestly,” You breathed out, biting your lip, your entire body stiff from keeping yourself from moving against his fingers. “Shidou’s an idiot. I could do better.” You say, swallowing against the dryness in your throat. You weren’t exactly sure what was happening between you two right now but you were very interested to see where it went. You clench your jaw as Rin’s hand travels up your body, past your skirt, your stomach then stops just under your jaw. Softly his fingers move your chin to face him fully.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He whispers huskily against your cheek. You looked mesmerized so slowly he bent forwards, the bed groaning under the sudden shift. Softly your lips met, the kiss of a breeze that grew to the kiss of someone wanting more. Rin moves forwards a bit more, you match him as your lips pressed together harder. With one hand on your cheek his other snaked down your body to the waistband of your skirt. He felt you suck in a breath as he pulled back, both of you catching your breath. He pressed his forehead to yours. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked, his fingers just barely under the waistband tracing the bottom of your stomach. You didn’t trust the words to come out stable so you shook your head and Rin smiled against your lips.

Slowly, teasingly his hands slipped under your skirt. His fingers rubbed against you over your panties as your breath skittered in your throat. You made a small noise and Rin pulled from your lips, kissing your cheek, trailing down your neck.

“Don’t be shy, I wanna hear you.” He whispers into your ear making you shiver as his fingers rub a bit faster over your panites. Your head falls back against the headboard of the bed as Rin’s other hand angles your head just right, his lips kissing against the exposed skin on your neck. Goosebumps grow over your skin instantly. His hand downstairs pulls back until he’s at the waistband of your panties. His fingers slip inside and you try to bite back a gasp at the anticipation. Rin smiles against your neck, nibbling a bit. Slowly his middle finger dips inside you, the other rubbing around the top. You couldn’t stop the moan that rippled from your lips, your head thrown back against Rin’s shoulder. This is exactly how he wanted you, completely in the palm of his hand, wholly unguarded and his to play with. He moved his fingers a bit faster, sliding another finger inside you. You moan loudly as Rin’s other hand slides across your lips to muffle you. He snickers into your neck. “Thin walls.” He whispers and watches as a smile grows on your lips, your cheeks a dark shade of pink. “You’re so wet for me.” He whispered a moment later and your breath hitches in your throat.

This boy had been next to you for the past few months, kindly helping you, never once did your conversations enter anything much outside of school. But here you were, seconds from cumming over smooth talk and quick fingers.

Suddenly Rin pulled his hand back, and your eyes shot open as he pulled your mouth to his, kissing you fervently. You were so close and for a moment you thought Rin stopped because he thought he’d made you cum. You were embarrassed suddenly, flushing at the neck. When Rin pulled away, he whispered against your lips.

“Take off your skirt.” He ordered. You nodded obediently, mesmerized and did as you were told to. Tossing your skirt and panites to the side, scooting off the headboard to lay beneath him. “Good girl.” Rin locked his lips onto yours, his hand finding its way between your legs again.

You gasped at the sudden dip of his fingers and moaned when they worked you out perfectly. It was like he knew exactly what you were wanting and needed no explanation like so so many others. It was mere moments before he had you panting and moaning, unable to reciprocate his kisses. Another moment an orgasm ripples through you and he kisses your lips as you moan into his mouth. It was intimate and had your thoughts fully and only on him.

“Jesus.” You laughed and Rin pulled back, smiling at you.

“Good?”

“Mhmm.” You hummed.

“You deserve to feel this good all the time, you know.” He says and you blush, nodding your head.

“So do you…” You whisper back, giving him a look as your own hand slides against his stomach, down and down and down, pausing to wait for permission. Rin’s lips part and his eyes glaze.

“You don’t have to.” He says and with your free hand you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you, kissing his neck.

“I want to.” You whisper against his skin, smirking when you feel him shiver. You liked to let go sometimes, but now you wanted control. Just like he had, you teased and savored his hitched breaths and the bobbing of his adams apple as he swallowed. Painfully slow you slid your fingers under his pants and felt the length of him over his boxers. He was big and hard. Rin let out a whimper that rippled through your body, making your mouth go dry. You’d never heard that before, it had you tingling all over. You bit your lip and rubbed him over his boxers, savoring every noise he made.

“Please-” Rin gasped and you almost died on the spot.

“Please what?” You asked, your voice coated in saccharin honey. Rin leaned his head back against the pillow as you moved a bit and kissed the spot he left open.

“Touch me.” He whimpered and you almost came undone yourself. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood as you sucked on his neck. Slowly you dipped your hand under his boxers and slid up his shaft to the tip.

“You’re so wet for me.” You teasingly whispered directly into his ear and he chuckled unevenly at that. You barely moved your hand up and down because you didn’t want this to be over in two strokes. Rin was whimpering and moaning like he was in the best kind of pain.

“Please-- oh god.” His throat was exposed, eyes closed, cheeks pink. You couldn’t believe you had him literally and figuratively in the palm of your hand. It was probably the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You moved your hand a bit faster, slick with him. Rin bit his lip to try and hold back but you wanted to hear him so you slowed to a snail's pace and marveled as his mouth fell open and a whine escaped his lips. You went a little faster, loving how wrecked he was for you. Panting and whimpering, it was truly something you’d never thought you’d ever see.

Rin Itoshi was perfect around the campus. Nothing out of order. But right now he was ruined and gasping. You fucking loved it. Though you didn’t keep teasing him, your hand pumped just a bit faster and listened to him and his course of groans. It was mere seconds before Rin’s body convulsed and you stole the sound from his lips with your own. After a moment you pulled back.

“We should clean up.” You said and Rin chuckled heartily, nodding his head.

“Stay, we can clean up together?” He asked a question floating in the air. You swallowed.

“I’ve uh- never went all the way.” You say, suddenly embarrassed. You weren’t exactly sure what he was suggesting but you just wanted to let him know. Rin smirked at that.

“We move at your pace.” He said.

“We?” You asked and Rin suddenly went fully red, sucking in a breath.

“Oh no-- uh, sorry, I meant--”

“It’s okay, I’m messing with you.” You jest, pulling his flustered lips to your own. “We should go on a date before showering together, don’t you think?” You say, standing up. Rin cocks his head, watching you slip your panties back on, sliding your skirt up over your thighs, zipping it. When your eyes slide to his you notice he probably lost his train of thought staring at you. You cock a brow and his eyes drag up and down your body. Hunger in his stare.

“A date, huh?” He says, reaching and grabbing your skirt, pulling you back to him. “And where would you want to go?” He asks as you fall against him, straddling him. His hands sliding up your thighs around your back. You smirk. All your work had finally paid off. Rin Itoshi seemed a bit unobtainable but the moment you pretended to date that idiot, Rin came running to you. It was him you wanted all along.

“I dunno, where do you wanna take me?”

#blue lock #blue lock x you #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x reader #fem reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader

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whatdudtheysay · 9 months

Text

Annoying roommate Gojo

Cw - angry sex, unprotected, light spanking, no foreplay, Gojo's mean, degrading words

A/n - So sorry I haven't been active just been busy w lots of shit and planning stuff❤︎ - the rest is a mini rant

plus I got another Gojo X reader coming out but it's really long and the writer's block is hitting hard ❤︎

also sorry this will be kinda shortt cause I really wanna finish my drafts and get back onto Tumblr writing n I rlly hate this lnee → part 2! Part 3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Satoru! You're so annoying!" You complained, walking to where he was lounged on the couch, controller in hand as he focused on the TV.

"What did i do now, princess?" Gojo hummed, continuing to click the buttons.

You shot him a nasty glare at the sound of his little nickname he gave you. Sometimes you wonder if you should've just decided to take up your friend's offer of the spare room at her place but instead you decided to be 'independent'.

"First of all, stop leaving milk out and second of all, stop bringing your fuck buddies over."

Gojo sat up at this and you thought you'd get some sort of apology but instead he just shrugged. "No. My apartment, my rules."

You narrowed your brows at him, the urge to rip out his perfect white locs almost dominating over you. But instead you just decided to head back into the kitchen, slamming the now spoiled milk carton onto the kitchen island.

Before you headed into the bathroom, you heard the sound of Gojo's phone, instead leaning against the open doorway to eavesdrop.

"Hm? Yeah sure, we said nine didn't we?" Gojo hummed.

At first, you thought he'd be talking to getou but you noticed how his voice slightly dropped to a more seductive one, automatically letting you know he was talking to a girl he'd be inviting over.

Mentally, you sighed, knowing you'd spend another night either with ear plugs in, trying to ignore the obnoxiously loud sex Gojo had or you'd be sat trying to ignore it while watching Netflix - both being equally depressing.

Just as you began to make your way to the bathroom, you halted for a moment as a thought wandered over your mind.

Just a little revenge plan to get back at him.....

★★★

You could hear them before you saw them, the breathy moans, the door slamming was all the warning you needed to know.

"Ah, Gojo-"

Just then, you decided it was time. You rushed into the kitchen to see Gojo and a random girl on the couch, Gojo's shirt already off and resting on the coffee table.

"Satoru!" You gasped, faking shock, allowing your brows to furrow together.

The girl quickly pushed Gojo off of her, hiding her chest as her head bowed in shame.

"Again, satoru? I thought you told me you'd stop! That I was the only one for you-" you rambled, watching as both of their faces turned into shock.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, your girlfriend is talking about how you promised to stop cheating on me!"

The girl immediately got up, looking between you and Gojo.

"Girlfriend?!" She asked.

Gojo was about to defend himself but you interrupted.

"Yeah! Girlfriend." You scoffed. "Now I'll give you about 30 seconds to get out of my face."

The colour from the girl's face practically drained as she scrambled to grab her purse, quickly leaving the apartment afterwards.

As soon as she was gone, you sighed, smirking at Gojo's glare.

"The fuck was that about?" He questioned, stalking towards you.

You just shrugged, moving to walk back to your room. You would've if it weren't for Gojo's hand grabbing your wrist.

"Answer my question." He stated, his voice more flat.

"Well, someone's tired of hearing your annoyingly loud sex almost every night and you aren't the only one who lives here. That simple enough for you?"

Gojo narrowed his eyes at you, his hands tightening around you before pulling you closer.

"Well maybe someone wouldn't be jealous if she actually had someone who'd want to fuck her?"

It was your turn to narrow your eyes now, jabbing a finger to his chest.

"Well maybe I should bring a guy over, hm? Then you'd actually hear how it sounds when women don't fake an orgasm-"

Gojo roughly pushed you against the wall, shutting you up immediately with a heavy hand squeezing your neck. He looked down at you with an unreadable expression, the only thing you could tell was that he was so close to snapping.

"Think you're funny? Chasing my date away like that?" Gojo murmured, his hand squeezing your neck ever so lightly.

"Date?" You managed to get out. "That's funny-"

Gojo cut you off once more by grinding his hips against yours, his bulge making your eyes widened.

"Well. Since you started this. You're gonna end it."

Before you could respond to him you were already being manhandled, pushed up against the wall, your pajama shorts and panties being pulled down.

"Go- fuck-" you let out a load grunt once you felt his cock pushing into your entrance. Obviously you knew Gojo would be thick but his length is what had you feeling feral. His tip was already reaching amazing spots inside you to the point where you didn't know if you could stand properly anymore.

"Shut up- fucking whore," Gojo mumbled, landing a harsh slap against your rear that made you yelp, your walls clamping down on him as a reflex.

Sure, you wanted to piss him off but you didn't think you'd end up taking that girl's place and now you couldn't help but feel bad that you'd stolen this from her. With the way Gojo's hips snapped against your ass you couldn't help but feel good with his cock hitting all your soft spots.

"Gojo- wait-"

"Gojo?" He scoffed. "What happened to you calling me satoru hm? C'mon, say it"

You bit your lip, still trying to get used to his cock ramming in and out of your cunt, your hand sheepishly moving between your legs to rub at your clit.

"Ah, ah, ah- wanna cum that badly?" Gojo scoffed, pulling both your arms behind your back with one beefy hand. "You know what I want, princess."

You grunted, your head feeling like pure mush as Gojo continued his assault against your cervix.

"C'mon, giving you a chance here..." Gojo moaned, stopping his thrusts momentarily to pull out of you.

At first, you were confused, your mind still slightly hazed as Gojo easily carried you, your arms linking around his neck, carefully sliding you back down onto his cock, a slow drawled out moan leaving your swollen lips.

"What? Too fucked out?" Gojo grunted, still thrusting deeply into your hole.

In all honesty though, you were. Your peak was so so close to the point where that's the only thing you were focusing on.

"Shitt-" satoru voiced, almost getting lost in your heat himself. "Gonna cum...gonna flood this little pussy."

You quickly nodded, the need to be filled taking over any smart thoughts that tried to come up. Gojo delivered a few more deep and rough thrusts before copious amounts of his cum spurted inside you.

Gojo huffed deeply, letting you drop down onto the floor in frustration. You watched as he walked into the bathroom coming back out a few moments later with his cock back in his pants and a wad of tissue in hand.

"You..-" you panted, watching his cum leak out of you and spill onto you the floor. "You asshole-."

Gojo raised a brow, half heartedly throwing the tissue towards you.

"What? Sad you didn't cum?"

You let out an audible whine at how sore you were between your legs.

"Maybe if you weren't such a brat and actually listened to me I might've helped you out."

Tiredly, you glared up at him the need to cuss him out feeling heavy on your tongue.

"Make sure you clean this mess up." Gojo yawned, making his way towards his room.

As you recollected yourself you knew one thing was for sure.

He's gonna pay for this.

#smut #jjk smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #jjk gojo

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69misato69 · 1 year

Text

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures (Alhaitham x Kaveh) ✦ smut, 3.5k

archive of our own ✦ twitter

masterlist pinned on my profile !

Summary: Kaveh overhears Haytham having a one night stand and he is unable to think of anything but fucking him. The initial premise was meant to be crack, then it turned into an actual fic but I do still find it kind of funny if I'm being honest. I hope you enjoy :)

Top Alhaitham x Bottom Kaveh

cw: blowjobs, handjobs, ejaculation, slight overstim, unprotected anal sex

writer's note: explicit +18 content, please view at your own risk. thank you, have fun !

“Haytham!” Kaveh angrily walked into the living room to find his roommate reading on the couch as always, “We have a problem.”

The scribe didn’t lift his gaze from the page and turned it over with his index finger, “I have a feeling that it's your problem and I have absolutely nothing to do with it.” Kaveh crossed his arms at his chest, refusing to follow-up in an attempt to get his attention. Per usual, it was a futile effort, so he gave up with a long, annoyed exhale, “I can’t get laid. It’s getting out of hand.”

Alhaitham was unfazed by the abrupt indecency, it was Kaveh after all, he had spent years trying to teach the concept of boundaries to him but the man was sticking to his values of oversharing and making every detail of his life public to their small household. “Impossible, it's your only source of income.” Alhaitham jested, skilfully hiding the half-smirk that formed on the corner of his mouth. Kaveh gasped and squeezed his fists, “Rude and untrue.” he protested. Alhaitham turned another page and settled more comfortably in his seat, “Mmhm, do go on.”

“My proposal is to fuck.”

“Seems like an appropriate solution, any candidates?”

Alhaitham could see where this conversation was going from miles away, but for now his plan was playing dumb and savoring the moment as his roommate further embarrassed himself. “The proposal is for you and me.” Kaveh certainly didn’t sound ashamed, laying down an unchaste and indecent offer as if it was nothing.

“You want us to fuck?”

“Yes. What is your answer?”

“Who fucks who?

“You top.”

“Why, you don't like it?

Alhaitham heard footsteps approaching him, Kaveh snatched the book away from his hand and put it down on the table. Alhaitham hated it when he did that, but he was drawing too much joy from the situation that he wasn’t bothered at all.

Kaveh stood between his parted legs and looked down on him with his arms crossed once again. “Haytham. Listen to me very carefully. Fucking you won’t solve my problem. This is serious. I need to be thrown around, okay? I need to forget my own name. I can’t take it anymore. You’re as emotional as a Scarab, so I’m sure you won't catch feelings. Also, I assume you’re packing down there. So please , stop drawing this out and just answer me.” he explained calmly, as if the words he uttered weren’t absolutely insane.

Alhaitham nodded, “Fine, I accept.” Kaveh’s eyes lit up momentarily, then the spark vanished with the growing awkwardness between them. Alhaitham parted the silence, “What are you waiting for?” Kaveh was frozen in place, he hadn’t planned things this far. He didn’t even think the scribe would accept. Though it seemed impulsive, it had been on his mind for some time, since the day he was supposed to check up on a project and stay overnight in the desert last week.

He had told Alhaitham beforehand, it was an unspoken rule between the two. Kaveh enjoyed having people over but they kept it confined within the walls of his bedroom, Alhaitham would only see those people for a moment in the mornings when they would be leaving, but he would never bring home someone he was involved with. Kaveh didn’t exactly know why, but he knew that the scribe definitely cared for his privacy. Regardless of the reason, he tried to tell Alhaitham when he was going to be away, in case he wanted to have the house to himself and have people over. Everytime he came back he would notice signs but would never pester his roommate about it.

So last weekend, he got ready for his departure as always, failing to account for the fact that he was extremely tired. He came home and went to bed immediately, confident that he would easily get up near noon and leave with the convoy. But when he finally opened his eyes, rested and light as a feather, the time was nearing five in the afternoon.

He got off the bed, cursing as he made his way through the kitchen to quench his thirst. He sat on the balcony for a while and then ran inside upon spotting Alhaitham in the distance. The scribe approached the door, Kaveh could hear him from the large window opening to the balcony. But he wasn’t alone, there was a tall brunette tangled around his arm. Kaveh rubbed his temples, trying to devise a plan by the time they made their way up.

If he left he would undoubtedly run into them, plus he wasn’t even dressed. Even if he found a way to evade them, everyone that would welcome him in the city was out in the desert with the rest of the team. Though he liked to poke fun at Alhaitham, he handled most of the housework, cooking and cleaning, taking care of their plants and, taking care of Kaveh. It was his house after all, and if he saw Kaveh there he would surely never bring anyone home ever again. Kaveh truly didn’t want to shatter his trust in him.

So, the only option was to hide in his room. It wasn’t so bad, he was still tired after all. Hurriedly, he sneaked a bottle of water and some snacks and ran to his bed. Alhaitham walked in with the man that Kaveh didn’t know, they cooked dinner together, laughing and talking about things that were terribly boring to the blonde. Yet, it was interesting to hear Alhaitham crack up at the jokes, he surely never laughed like that at Kaveh or at anyone at work.

It was actually kind of nice to see a more human side of him. Kaveh couldn’t help but smile all evening, sketching his new plans quietly and occasionally taking breaks to eavesdrop on the two. From what he had gathered, it didn’t seem like a serious relationship, maybe it was just a casual thing, and maybe it wasn’t even a ‘relationship’ at all, Kaveh thought, until later that night, when Alhaitham took the man to his room.

After that, all that Kaveh heard was the rustling of clothes and kisses through the thin walls, and the man moaning Alhaitham’s name over and over again. Kaveh should’ve just plugged his ears, but he felt paralyzed, unable to move a single muscle until he realized he was gripping tightly onto the sheets. He whispered curses when he felt a twitch in his groin, it was extremely annoying to get hard at Alhaitham’s grunts.

Aside from the frustration he also felt, perverted. It was wrong , slipping his hand inside his boxers was wrong, imagining his own self under Alhaitham was wrong, lusting over something that he wasn’t even meant to hear was so wrong. But, that didn’t stop him. He laid down, playing with himself to the melody of his roommate’s soft moans and words of praise.

It was so unattainable, what that man was achieving. It was so out of touch for someone like Kaveh. What he felt wasn’t jealousy, but it was certainly something. After the two settled down, Kaveh also felt his eyelids get heavy once again. He rid himself of the overwhelming thoughts and drifted off to sleep. Luckily, the house was empty in the morning. All that remained was a note with beautiful handwriting that Alhaitham slipped through the door, probably before leaving for work.

“Hope you had a safe trip back. I’ll be away until tomorrow. Please do not leave the window open again. H.”

Kaveh sighed. He went to drop off the plans and apologize for missing the trip. Since he was going to have the house all to himself, he decided to hit the tavern and hopefully find someone to spend the night with. He desperately needed to shake off Alhaitham’s voice from his ears, but it seemed impossible. Instead of taking an interest in newcomers, he spent the entire night drinking and thinking of his roommate.

Kaveh barely made it through the rest of the week, bickering with Alhaitham as usual but having his mind drift off to lewd fantasies of him whenever he was unoccupied was exhausting and confusing. So he really wasn’t lying when he told Alhaitham that he couldn’t get laid, Kaveh had just conveniently left out the part that Alhaitham was the reason for that, and the only cure for his debilitating condition.

“I—don’t know. Do something, Haytham.”

“I take care of your drunk ass every night, you do something for once.”

“Fine, but don’t enjoy it too much.”

Kaveh lowered himself to his knees and reached to undo the scribe’s pants. “I don’t think I will.” Alhaitham chuckled.

“Stop being mean or I’ll bite.”

“It’d be the last time you ever bite anything, Kaveh.”

Kaveh couldn’t help but laugh as he slipped away his roommate’s underwear. “Damn, pretty.” he remarked out loud accidentally. It really was decent, Kaveh couldn’t help but imagine it inside himself, the thought lit a spark in his groin. “It’s a dick?” Alhaitham said, bewildered by Kaveh’s comment.

“So, I’m not allowed to find it pretty?”

“Why don't you suck it so I can have some peace and quiet?”

Kaveh huffed and looked up at him daringly. Not fighting back was taking everything he had, but for once, Kaveh had the chance to actually impress Alhaitham. When it came to housework, the scribe would always complain that he didn’t do things properly, and when he acclaimed Kaveh's work as an architect, well, that wasn’t really a personal thing. So, he decided to revel in the opportunity. He tied up his hair neatly and leaned forward, holding onto Alhaitham’s waist with both of his hands.

Kaveh first left a trail of kisses all over his thighs, grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin. Alhaitham twitched at the sensation as the blonde’s mouth moved up to his groin. He dragged his tongue around the scribe’s cock hungrily, being rewarded with light moans. Kaveh sucked on the tip, looking up shamelessly before sliding his mouth all the way down.

He was bobbing his head up and down and altering the way he sucked and released with such precision that Alhaitham felt like he could orgasm at any moment if he wanted to. “Not bad.” he mumbled, it was an understatement but was necessary to humble Kaveh.

But he was persistent, he supported his movements by placing one hand around Alhaitham’s base, timing them in a way that he knew would drive his roommate insane. Curses spilled out of Alhaitham as he yanked on Kaveh’s ponytail and pulled him up by the waist.

“Hey! I wasn’t done.” the blonde objected, but he still wrapped his arms around his roommate’s neck regardless. Alhaitham freed his hair from the pin and pressed a kiss onto his neck, “Well, I want you here, on my lap.”

Kaveh felt his heart skip a beat, Alhaitham stripped him slowly while peppering kisses all over his upper body. He shivered once he was fully naked on the scribe’s lap, the erection rubbing against his entrance already.

Alhaitham took such good care of him, massaging his thighs, playing with his hardened nipples and leaving bite marks all over his sensitive skin. Kaveh held onto his roommate’s shoulders for support, he felt like a ball of yarn at the mercy of a cat’s paws, he had no choice but to unravel.

Alhaitham slipped two fingers in Kaveh’s mouth, watching the blonde carefully as he sloppily lubricated them, eager to move on. Kaveh was already grinding back and forth, he couldn’t help it, just as he couldn’t help tilting his head back and moaning Alhaitham’s name as he quivered for his touch.

Alhaitham took out his fingers and circled them around Kaveh’s hole. Though they had been in this position for some time, Kaveh leaned in for the first time to kiss his roommate on the lips. Alhaitham passionately responded, intruding Kaveh’s mouth with his tongue and his hole with his fingers.

The blonde sank even deeper on his lap, grinding onto the digits with excitement. His moans escaped into Alhaitham’s mouth, hot breath hovering over the scribe’s face. Alhaitham pulled away and lifted his lips to line up with his entrance, Kaveh took a deep breath before pushing all the way down, all in one go with a low groan.

Alhaitham hissed, the warmth came so suddenly, and Kaveh’s walls sucked him up with no hesitation or delay, it was impressive, how he took it with such ease and the way fit him perfectly. “So good, Kaveh.” Alhaitham purred in his ear while playing with his nipples. The blonde stuttered and then decided not to speak at all. Instead, he slid back and forth, up and down in circular motions, fucking himself on Alhaitham’s cock as he kept pampering him.

“L—let’s go inside.” Kaveh offered. Alhaitham carried him to his bedroom without pulling out, with every step he took the blonde gently hopped up on his lap. The scribe entered and immediately slammed Kaveh on the wall, he cried out from the overwhelming sensations, the cold surface against his back, the sharp momentary pain that stabbed his hips, and the way Alhaitham reached so far up his hole with the force of the impact. He was thrusting somewhere so deep that Kaveh didn’t even know such a place existed.

“Thrown around, you said, right? Does this suffice?

Alhaitham pushed him even further, instead of letting Kaveh slip back, he held his hips and drew them in, maintaining the depth that made Kaveh’s eyes widen with every thrust. “I don’t know about making you forget your own name but I’ll make sure you at least won’t be able to speak it.” Alhaitham cooed in his ear. Kaveh was already far gone, drool spilled from his lips over to his roommate’s chest, he was gasping for air, breathing out incoherent words.

Alhaitham kept holding him close, Kaveh didn’t deserve anything short of being filled up to the brim. Though, after a few more thrusts, he felt warm liquid seep out of Kaveh’s tip and pulled away, leaving only an understimulating portion inside. Instinctively, the blonde tried to wrap his fingers around his cock but Alhaitham swiftly pinned both of his wrists above his head with a single move. Kaveh winced at the distress, he struggled to free his hands and whined, “Stop it, Haytham, you’re—ruining it.”

Alhaitham smirked, “Oh, am I?” The rest of Kaveh’s load leaked out pathetically as he begged the scribe to help him out. Alhaitham didn’t seem to care, he watched the blonde ride it out with a cruel and merciless smile. “Put me down.” Kaveh spat out angrily.

Alhaitham stepped away and released his grip on his wrists and hip. Kaveh hadn’t accounted for the fact that his legs were on the edge of giving out, with Alhaitham gone he collapsed on the floor, his knees knocking up against the harsh, wooden surface. Alhaitham grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled it back roughly so Kaveh would look up at him.

“I’ll give you a proper one, Kaveh. I promise.” His words were comforting but the playful look on his face surely wasn’t. Regardless, Kaveh was hitting a point where all the pain started to feel right. His aching back, knees and hips, his abused hole that was already yearning for more, and now the stinging feeling at the base of his scalp. It had become so pleasurable, so delicious as it pumped adrenaline through Kaveh’s veins.

Alhaitham was just as he expected, selfish and impudent, disregarding the amount of agony he was putting Kaveh through and discourteously ruining his high while feeling zero remorse. The more Kaveh realized it, the more he was drawn to the scribe. He stuck out his tongue, leaving a wet trail from Alhaitham’s base all the way up to his tip. He encased his cock inside his lips, this time much more gently, grazing the tip against the insides of his cheeks.

Alhaitham had expected him to make a bigger fuss before settling into submission again. “I didn’t know you could behave so well.” he gave a backhanded compliment that made Kaveh’s brows furrow and pushed his head away. The blonde’s whines stayed muffle on his throat when the scribe picked him up and laid him on the bed.

Kaveh relaxed onto the mattress, finally resting on a soft surface. Alhaitham sat between his legs, but the sight suddenly stunned him. He had seen Kaveh almost everyday for the past two years, and in almost every conceivable scenario. Exhausted and alert, sober and drunk out of his mind, snorting from laughter and sobbing uncontrollably. But this was a new entry, unregistered. Laying down on the bed with bruised knees and a sheer coat of sweat, eager to have Alhaitham take care of him. His golden locks scattered over the pillow and his cheeks tinted pink.

He looked absolutely breathtaking, and Alhaitham realized that he never stared at him for this long. The most he would do was take stolen, quick glances from his book when Kaveh would fall asleep on the couch. Not that he was going to wake up, but secretly Alhaitham was scared of seeing something, he didn’t even know what that “something” was, but now it was clear to him. Kaveh was beautiful, ethereal. Slithering over him lustfully, it wasn’t like anything Alhaitham had ever seen before.

You’re as emotional as a Scarab, Haytham.

“I know, I’m pretty.” Kaveh snapped him out of his thoughts, Alhaitham had lost track of time, he scoffed with a dramatic eye-roll, “And a shallow idiot.”

“Well you almost came inside that idiot two times so that makes you even more shallow.”

“What?”

“You edged twice, didn’t you?”

“How do you know that?”

“Well I felt it.”

Alhaitham chuckled, he was awfully good at hiding every physical cue, it was interesting, Kaveh was oblivious to his mastery during daily life, but apparently he was immune to the deception when it came to being intimate.

“How is it that a field expert like you can't find someone?” Alhaitham quipped as he leaned forward and slid inside.

“I—fuck—don’t know. It’s been like that for the past week.”

“No luck yesterday either?”

“Uhh…not really. I sat at the tavern but no one even bought me a drink.”

“I would. If you were there.”

“Sorry?” Kaveh was flushed, his legs wrapped around the scribe’s waist went numb for a moment, his mind was at a blank as well.

“I was at the tavern yesterday, doing corrections. Almost all night.” Alhaitham seemed very calm, he was sliding in and out with a relaxed pace, watching Kaveh slowly lose composure and fall apart. It truly was a terrible time for his roommate to come up with an excuse or a lie, and that was why Alhaitham had brought it up right then and there.

Kaveh felt like an ice cube slowly melting away into a puddle, for a brief moment it actually seemed pretty ideal to disappear so he didn’t have to deal with the situation. Luckily, Alhaitham didn’t expect an explanation, he picked up the pace, eliciting deep moans off of the blonde’s lips. Kaveh was already feeling close again, still longing for a satisfactory relief unlike his last.

“Your cute little ploy is very amusing but the next time you want me, just say so.” Alhaitham mewled as he nibbled on the blonde’s neck. “Shut up, it wasn’t a—Ah!--ploy.” Kaveh opposed. The scribe chuckled, he brushed against his roommate’s prostate to work him out even more, Kaveh gasped, it was becoming harder and harder to defend himself.

“You were here last week, weren’t you?” Alhaitham asked. He lifted Kaveh’s hips with a slight angle and pressed down on his groin. The blonde whimpered, the unexpected pressure was making him even more sensitive as more blood rushed to his lower body.

“I thought a bright man such as yourself would at least think to hide away his shoes.” Alhaitham continued. He was shamelessly badgering Kaveh, enjoying the sight as he squirmed and tried to cover his blushing face with his hands.

“Ah, I see. You’re not embarrassed because you heard it, you’re embarrassed because you liked it.”

“Please—” Kaveh pleaded.

“You laid here and fucked yourself like a freak, didn’t you?”

Kaveh was living through an insane thrill, he was desperate against Alhaitham’s claims, they were terribly accurate, as if the scribe could read his mind. Hearing Alhaitham belittle him usually annoyed Kaveh, but in the heat of the moment he felt euphoric, an overload of emotions as his body fluctuated between shame and pleasure.

Alhaitham’s eyes had darkened, an evil grin was sculpted on his face. He wrapped his fingers around Kaveh’s dick and slid his hand up and down. “Didn’t you?” he repeated the question, not that it needed an answer, but hearing Kaveh admit to his degeneracy would simply be delicious.

Tears pooled around Kaveh’s eyes as he struggled to talk, “I hate—” but before the blonde could say “you”, he released so intensely that his vision went dark for a second. Ropes of cum shot out in between them as his body spasmed and released.

Alhaitham hummed, “Ironic.”

#genshin smut #al haitham #kaveh genshin #haikaveh #kavetham #alhaitham x kaveh #character x character #kaveh smut #al haitham smut #genshin impact alhaitham #genshin impact kaveh #genshin impact

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ecstasyhighway · 12 days

Text

You & I | e. williams

chapter ii

CW: abby cheats on reader 😓 uhhhh there is no smut in this its really just a look into their lives kinda. Drinking and literally one mention of ellie being high. reader has her own friends who ive just given random ahh names and the owner of the music store ellie works at is mentioned. ermmm i think thats it if i missed anything pls lmk.

a/n: please understand that i am not a professional writer.. shit might be wrong (grammer, punctuation ect) its not really proofread but its been put through grammarly so yehah enjoysies i guess

MEN DNI I WILL FIND YOU.

wc: 2.3k ish

prologue. ch 1.

You wake up to the sun shining into your room, your phone going off relentlessly, “Man what the- who is texting me” You pick up your phone,

*45 missed messages from Abby*

‘baby cmon’

‘It was a mistake, I'm sorry’

‘y/n you are doin way too much rn just pick up baby please’

You roll your eyes at her pleads. She cheated on you with one of your best friends and she just expects you to forgive her? Hell no! She betrayed your trust. You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and began to get ready to shower.

‘Where the fuck is my speaker..’ you think to yourself as you look through your apartment, making a mess of clothes on the floor. You stop and think back to the last time you used it.. Last night! you go to your kitchen and sure enough there it is, right on the counter. You grab it and go to your bathroom, put on a playlist, and get in the shower.

Ellie couldn’t sleep, she was just too embarrassed, she still could not believe she was touching herself out in public. She thought she was cringe as fuck for that.. Whatever she has to get ready for work. She does a quick sniff test ‘Good enough’ she gets into her car and heads to the shop.

She gets to the store and notices that one of the lights on the sign has gone out. She grabs her phone out of her pocket and sends a text to Mrs. Alden,

‘Good morning Mrs. Alden, I just got to the shop and noticed that one of the lights that are on the sign has gone out. Would you like me to call someone?’

‘Good Morning Ellie. Yes, you can call someone. I will be stopping by at around 4 pm. I need to pick up something and I need to pay the bills. I will see you later Ellie.’

*Ellie liked a message*

Ellie heads inside and gets the store ready to be opened, she calls a repair company to schedule an appointment to get the light fixed. She goes to the back to do a quick restock.

“Ellie! I'm here, do you need anything?” Jesse yells from the other room, Ellie flinches at the sound of his voice and walks to where he was

“Fuck, Jesse you scared me, I dunno maybe? Not right now I don’t think. The electrician is coming to fix a light on the sign at like 12, but I might not be here so will you be able to let him in and show him which light it is? Oh also Mrs. Alden is coming around 4 so be respectful she's old and she will fire you if you are just the slightest bit disrespectful”

Jesse gives her a nod indicating that he understands,

Ellie goes to her little music room to rest as the store doesn't open until 10 and it's only 8 right now. She is nervous. As much as she loves Mrs. Alden, she scares the shit out of Ellie, she's quite old and mean, and she never comes to the shopâ€¦like ever.

Whitney Alden Is the owner of ‘Musemoon’, she started the shop in 1999 and it's been her baby ever since, she met Ellie when she was 10 and took her in, she helped Ellie understand music better and form a connection with it. Ellie is terrified of Mrs. Alden, why? Don't ask, she just is.

So Alden coming to the shop is very stressful for Ellie as she is the manager and is next in line to own the store when Whitney dies. Everything has to be perfect, no album out of place, no dust on the record players. Oh, and Ellie’s music room needs to be spick and span. So before Ellie takes a little nap she sets two alarms, one for 9:50 and another for 3:00.

The sound of the alarm jolts Ellie out of her sleep. She looks at the time, it’s 9:55, enough time for her to open up the store and do some inventory.

“Jessie, I'm gonna open up shop and do some inventory before it gets too busy in here alright”

“Okay”

The repair man had come to fix the light about 8 hours ago and Mrs. Alden left an hour ago. It’s currently 8 and Ellie is getting ready to leave, but Jessie stops her

“Hey, Ellie, Dina and I were going to go to this bar downtown with a couple of friends, you wanna come?”

“uhhh yeah, who all is gonna be there?”

“Me, Dina, Tara, Cat, Syd-”

“I’m sorry, Cat?” Ellie looked at him like he was stupid “Cat as in my ex? the girl who literally made me lose my shit for like half a year?”

“Yeah, but I thought ya’ll ended on good terms?”

“Jessie Jesus fuck of course we didn’t end on good terms I literally had to stop working for a while? She made me go insane, To her we ended on good terms but to me, she fucked me up.”

“sooooo that's a no to going to the bar?”

“no fuck you im going, I need a drink. Alden stressed the fuck out of me” She rolls her eyes playfully and gives him a lighthearted punch in the arm.

————————————

You get a call from Abby, she has been blowing your phone up all day. Why can’t she catch a hint, you’re pissed at her. You don’t want to talk to her. Ignoring the phone isn’t going to stop her. You need to talk to her. Face to face. ‘fuck’ you thought to yourself, you know if you pull up to her house and try to argue with her about this, all that's gonna happen is her hands in your pants fingering away the anger. No, you decided to stand your ground, you’re going to go to her house and talk to her like the adults you are. This will not end in hate fucking, you promise to yourself.

You get in your car and drive to her house, your phone still going off constantly. Once you get to her house your eyes fixate on a car. A car you’ve seen, shit a car you’ve rode in. What. The. Fuck. You walk to her front porch and bang on the door

“ABBY” you continue knocking but still no answer.

“ABBY MOTHER FUCKE- LET ME IN OR GOD SO HELP ME I WILL KICK YOUR DOOR DOWN”

The door swings open and you see Abby, she has a black muscle shirt on and some black and red basketball shorts. You can’t lie, she looks so fine.. But no you’re mad at her.

“Baby, baby..calm down we can talk abo-”

you cut her off mid-sentence and push past her and walk into her home. “Now why the fuck” you laugh a little in disbelief “Why the fuck is Lexi’s car in your driveway?”

“it's not what you think baby I promise”

you’re looking at her intensely, she’s bullshitting you right now,

“bullshit”

You begin to head to Abby’s room, hoping to god that it was really just a misunderstanding. But your stomach drops when she tries her hardest to stop you from going in there. You burst into her room and there you see it. Lexi Smith. Here in the flesh. Literally. She’s naked and in Abby’s bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me..?” Tears begin to swell in your eyes and your voice trembles. “are both of you being so serious right now? Lexi what? Abby, I'm used to you doing stupid shit like this. But Lexi? Really? fuck both of yall”

Lexi sits there, silent with nothing to say. You look at Abby, her arms are crossed and her head is down. You walk up to her. “Look at me,” you say sternly

She opens her eyes and looks into yours. Her eyes are looking into yours so gently, she thinks she's gonna get away with this. Not this time. You’re done. You can’t take this shit anymore.

You look in her eyes. Anger filled your senses, and before you could even process it, you slapped her, hard enough to leave a mark. “Don’t call my phone ever again. I'm done, Abby. I'm done with you” You storm off to your car, tears still in your eyes, you get into your car and just sit there. You finally let go of the anger and sadness that had just built up in your body. You try your hardest not to cry too much but it's already too late. You drive home still crying. You open the door to your apartment and dial Jillian’s number.

‘hello..?’

“Jilly”

‘sweetheart? what's wrong?’

“Can you comeover please”

‘of course my love’

You hang up the phone and lie on your couch feeling numb. Why, though? This isn’t the first time Abby’s cheated… Maybe it's because it's your best friend that she cheated on you with. You sob even harder thinking about it.

about 5 minutes pass when you hear your door unlock and open

“y/n? sweetie? It's Jill” She walks over to you confused

“what’s wrong?”

you sniff, “Abby.. a-nd Lexi” You hiccup slightly between words “they…she..” You can’t even get your words out without getting the urge to cry. But Jillian understood what you said. She just hugs you and you both sit there for a moment so you can calm yourself.

“how about we try to take your mind off them for now, let's go out! a bar, my treat, Marshall and Jean can come yeah?”

you nod at her offer. Marshall, Jean, and Jillian. The ones who have been there since day one. The ones that have never betrayed you.

Jillian tells you to go get dressed and that Jean and Marshall will be there in about an hour.

Going out feels like a chore to you, you really don’t want to leave but, Jillian always knows what's best for you so you oblige. Throwing on a beige sweater dress and some heels, you and her were ready to hit the town.

Once you both arrive at the bar, you spot Marshall and Jean, ready with open arms to talk about how they never really fucked with Lexi and how they all knew she was fake. Even though they were the ones who told you to become friends with her during your freshman year of college, but whatever you know they’re just saying what you want to hear, trying to lighten the mood.

You are about three shots into some alcohol Jill had ordered for the table when you see a familiar face. Where did you see this girl? She looks so familiar, you begin to think back a day or two but the alcohol in your system was clouding your memory. The music store, right what was her name

you were so lost in thought you didn’t even realize Jean was trying to get your attention

“Hellooo?? Earth to y/n? girl hello I'm trying to talk to you”

“shit my bad what's up”

Marshall chimes in “What were you thinking about babes? you were so out of it”

You look at him and giggle a little, “okay guys, just listen” you pause hoping you have their full undivided attention. “you see that auburn-haired girl over there” You point in her direction trying to be discreet. “I know her, I met her like yesterday at that music store I went to”

They all look “Girll what is her name?” Marshall asks, trying to get any type of information he's definitely going to look her up and do some digging for you.

“I honestly do not remember. I know it started with an E or an A. Elsie? Ally?..Ellie! it was Ellie”

“bitchhh you should go talk to her” Jean chimes in but Jillian objects

“I really don’t think you should, you had a rough day and you’re already tipsy”

Jean and Marshall look at her angrily, “which is exactly why she should go talk to her. It might take her mind off of everything” Marshall says, trying to persuade her.

Jillian just throws her hands up in defeat. “Do whatever makes you happy y/n, just know I don’t think this is a good idea”

You consider just listening to her and not even taking the chance, but after some more encouraging words from Marshall and Jean, you give in, taking another shot before walking to her table.

You walk over to her, she’s sitting there so uninterested in what's happening around her.

“Hey?” you say softly trying not to startle her, She looks up at you, her eyes glossy and slightly red, she’s high..

“oh shit hey, you’re umm that girl from yesterday, y/n right?”

“yes, I am, anndd you’re Ellie right?”

she nods and looks into your eyes, “I just wanted to say hi, I saw you from across the room”

She smiles slightly “Well hey”

You realize you’ve been just standing there awkwardly, not saying anything

“Sorry I just wanted to say hi, I’ll get out of your hair now, again so sorry for bothering you”

She looks you up and down, “noo you are not bothering me if anything you’re saving me from them” She laughs and looks at her friends who are talking amongst themselves. You smile and giggle at her, you are very embarrassed,

“You want a drink?” She asks as she gets up from her seat and puts out her hand for you to take. You accept her offer and take her hand, she leads you to the bar and orders two whiskey sours

——————————

OH! and this was inspired by “The Thought Of You” by @ap3arll !!

🏷️ @vqxen @shiimer @bready101

#—ecstasyhighway #ellie smut #ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #wlw smut #wlw #ellie williams series #ellie is so hot #i need her so fucking bad #writers on tumblr #tlou smut #tlou 2

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labrxnth · 9 months

Text

Prison Break- Part 2 (Leon Kennedy x Reader series)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

CW: Death Island spoilers (obviously), suicidal thoughts/tendencies

WC: 1858

Summary: You and your field partner Leon continue your search for Doctor Antonio Taylor on Alcatraz

A/N: Sorry This was late, I had a busy schedule and major writer’s block

The first thing you noticed about the harbor is that it smelled like salt. Saltiness and almost a tackiness filled the air as you looked out of the rolled down window. Your hand traced circles on the car seat absentmindedly as you watched the boats and people the car was speeding past.

“What’re you thinking?” Leon asked, his hand drifting dangerously close to yours. When he got to an inch away, he stopped, his hand giving a deadly space between the two. If you were paying full attention, it would’ve made you upset, but for some reason this mission really wasn’t sitting right with you.

Call it survivor’s gut or intuition, but this mission was sitting funky in your stomach.

You took a deep breath and turned your head to face your partner. “I don’t like this… Maria being involved with Taylor means that someone like Arias wants a robotics engineer,” You answered and shifted a bit in your seat.

“I don’t like it either,” Leon replied. The two of you were always good at having each other’s back and making the other one feel validated. That was your whole friendship, being the person that each other needed.

You were the person Leon needed after, well, everything he had gone through. Raccoon City, Project Javier, Los Illuminados and Simmons were hard for him to shoulder alone. His life felt like a dark and foggy hallway, a trail of blood and cynicism following him. But in the midst of everything, you were a light. You were with him through everything for the past few years, carrying a candle filled with your aura that scared off the darkness and the fog in his hallway.

You were the one person who hadn’t run away or died, and he’d like to keep it that way.

He was the one person he hadn’t run away or died, and you would like to keep it that way.

Leon S. Kennedy was an enigma to you when you first started working for the D.S.O. under recommendation from Hunnigan. Through the past few years of working together, the two of you started out as drinking buddies then quickly became actual friends. It was over for you when you looked into his eyes and saw who he truly was for the first time. The mission in New York, the summit, the look on Leon’s face were all seared into your mind. His blue eyes tossing your heart just like a human thrown overboard into a vast ocean.

But you were convinced the look he gave you that night was just for your façade; the role the two of you played. If you never spoke life into your feelings, he never had to reject you.

“You’re doing it again,” Leon’s voice cut through your memories; bringing you back to the streets of San Francisco and dragging you away from the dinner party in New York.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking a few times, trying to adjust to the setting Sun in your eyes.

“Getting lost in that big head of yours,” He replied and chuckled lightly. “You do that more lately…. Ever since that mission in NYC.” His eyes looked at you, almost as if searching for an answer for an unasked question.

“I’ve just been thinking about things,” You said, trying to pass it off as nothing.

“Thinking about…..?” Leon asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Life stuff… like if fighting half dead people and gross science experiments is gonna be the rest of my life,” you said, making an excuse. You didn’t like to lie to Leon, but this one thing you made an exception for. And it was true, sometimes you did think about how your life has taken a turn after college.

Leon hummed in response, looking out his own window. The autumnal setting sun reflected in his eyes and hair, making his irises shine like diamonds and his hair shining a dirty blonde in the rays. When the sun hit him, it was a reminder of who he was, the dirty blonde hair and full blue eyes that he had that night in Raccoon City. He thought that Rookie Cop died that day, but maybe all he needed was a constant sun in his life; someone who brought his hope back.

“Don’t start thinking about that stuff, it’ll drag you down,” he warned. “Trust me.” His voice had an edge to it that you had only heard a few times before. The edge that reflected a tinge of sadness, but resilience.

The car stopped at the dock, you and Leon getting out of the Uber and taking in your surroundings. To the public, the only way to get to Alcatraz was a ferry tour, but luckily the two of you could call in a few favors and pull a few strings.

“Follow me, the boat should be at the Marina.” Leon said. He walked in front of you, making his way towards the docks. With no other option, you walked with him, trying not to look at how his blue shirt hugged his biceps a little too well.

The two of you quickly made your way towards a boat with a big branded D.S.O. logo on it.

“Couldn’t have been more covert?” You asked flatly.

“Gotta warn them before we blow their shit up,” Leon said, half joking. He got in the boat, slinging his duffle bag off his shoulder and putting it on a seat. You climbed on after him and looked around the small speed boat.

“You sure this thing has ballistics?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s American, it can blow something up as long as you try hard enough,” He replied with his shit-eating grin. You chuckled in reply and got into the seat next to him, giving him the chance to drive for once. Leon noticed you not fighting for the wheel and he took the opportunity to start the boat and pull out of the Marina.

“So, (Y/n),” He said, putting the boat in drive and starting to steer to Alcatraz. “I’ve been thinking…” He added.

“That’s never a good thing,” You said snarkily and chuckled a bit.

“Very funny,” Leon said and rolled his eyes.

“But for real, what’s up?” You asked and looked at him. He was really focusing on what to say with how much his eyebrows were knitted and the lines next to his eyes were visible.

“It’s bad timing… we can talk about it later,” he said and looked at you, smiling.

You shrugged, thinking nothing of it. The sun setting over the bay was beautiful, it being the only thing that could peel your attention away from Leon. Your eyes tracked the sun, squinting slightly at how bright it was, but smiling at how the waves reflected the red and orange haze it was.

You went to say something to Leon and saw the same look in his face that you’d only seen once before. Amidst fancy clothes, cocktails, and fake friendships, was Leon’s face having the same look as he did now.

It was gone when he realized your eyes had met his. In a blink of an eye, he was back to his normal, scanning the area with a neutral facial expression.

Leon parked the boat at the back of the island and the two of you put on your combat gear: vests, harnesses, etc. once you two were ready to go, you were getting out of the boat and heading towards a tunnel opening.

“Munitions tunnel, should get us in,” You said and nodded towards it. Leon nodded in response and followed you into the tunnel. Eventually, the tunnel opened up to sewers, you two finally being able to fully stand up.

You turned to Leon to say something when you heard a loud BANG! The two of you locked eyes and your handguns were both drawn, aimed towards the other end of the sewers where the explosion came from.

After walking forwards a bit, the sewer split two ways, one to your left and one ahead. The sewers were set up on a block system, like a city.

“I’ll go forward, you go left,” Leon said and turned his ear com on. You nodded, copying his movements and doing the same.

The two of you gave each other a nod and separated hesitantly. Whenever the two of you separated, things never went well. Understandably, it was a necessity, but it still never went well.

You turned your flashlight on and walked to the left, then down the hallway. The light illuminated the tunnel and the sinking feeling you had gotten earlier hadn’t gone away. With Leon gone, it got more prominent.

Your boots hit the cobblestone, echoing with each footstep. Looking around, you were finding absolutely nothing. Out of the corner of your eye, the flash light reflected off of something metallic. You turned towards where the shimmer had come from and found an indented doorknob.

Silently, your hand opened the door and you slipped through it, closing it just as quietly as you opened it. Overhead lights turned on and revealed you to be in a hallway. Holding your gun up, supported by your flash light, you kept on forward.

The door at the other end of the hallway was open, revealing a more open hallway. As you walked, a small electronic buzz hit your ears as you saw one of the security cameras move.

“(Y/n), (L/n) how interesting,” A voice over the PA system said. You swiveled around, your gun up, staying silent.

A sharp pain hit the back of your neck and your hand shot to where the pain was coming from, feeling nothing unusual. Your eyelids fluttered shut as the world went dark and your knees buckled, sending your body falling towards the floor.

“At least you’ll bring me Leon Kennedy.” The voice added.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Leon marched on forward, trying to keep his head in the mission. Usually, he was good at compartmentalizing and having a one track mind for the mission. That was, until you became his partner; even now, he was worried about how you were faring.

He knew you could handle yourself, but still he worried about you. He didn’t want you getting hurt, or worse, like everyone else in his life.

Leon heard the sound of boots hitting the cobblestone path in front of him and held his gun up, ready to shoot. He rounded the corner and the barrel of his gun got grabbed, sending him into a sprawl. Him and the other person he was fighting with were both trying not to wind up in the sewer water, dangerously close to their feet.

After a few seconds of exchanges, Leon recognized the familiar brown color of hair he was fighting. His eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and he took in the bigger picture, seeing an all too familiar face. The two of them backed off of each other and took the other in.

“Well, if it isn’t Jill Valentine.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch it early on my A03!

#resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction

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h0ney-mochi · 1 year

Note

I’ll bite with another request.

Scaramouche being jealous that I’m always using Kaeya ingame since he’s the absolute epitome of “tall, dark and handsome” and he’s all like, “How pathetic. Sucking up to that guy like it’s your last chance at living.” when he’s actually like, “Hey asshole. Notice me. Now.”

What a pain. I have to fuck every ounce of jealousy out of him.

Just give him some attention smh.

cw: sub scaramouche, nsfw/smut, degradation, gn!reader, reader has a dick/strap-on

summary: Scara gets jealous because you keep taking Kaeya to help with your daily things! So you decide to fuck it out of him?

a/n: BITE MF- jealous scara, so stupid, fuck that jealousy outta him ‼️🙏 He just wants some attention, jeesh why r u so focused on kaeya smh /j 🙄

Minor writer, dni if uncomfortable!

"Ugh," he's groaning, annoyed once he sees you bidding farewell to Kaeya. You had him on your team again, needing some help with commissions and bounties. He's strong and a fun guy to be around!

Once you approach Scara, he's glaring at you, annoyance in his voice, "Tch, how pathetic. Can't do anything without him, really need him to keep you alive, huh." He's rolling his eyes and you just shrug, walking past him, "Well it's more fun doing things with a good friend, plus I get things done quicker." You're walking away from the city, leaving Scara standing by the tree. He quickly catches up with you, walking next to you.

"Yeah, sure. But wouldn't it be better to have someone else with you? He's weird," He speaks, shaking his head. Now that he thinks about it, no. He doesn't want anyone else to be with you. Why can't you just take him along uh?? Is that so hard??

You look at him, doubt in your gaze, "He's weird..? Says who?" Scara glares, "What do you mean 'says who'? I'm saying that! That guy is weird, changing up your little 'team' would be better." You're raising your eyebrows, looking back to where you're going, "The more you speak, the more I won't listen to you."

You two continue to talk, Scara still talking about you and Kaeya, you starting to realize that he's just jealous of you spending time with Kaeya. Trying to tell you that the guy is weird and shouldn't accompany you?? Seems like something Scara would definitely do while jealous, c'mon.

You two had walked pretty far, into some quiet area with few trees. So you finally took the chance.

Scaramouche is still talking about Kaeya until you stop and pull him by his shirt, pushing him against a tree, knocking his hat off in the process. "Alright, I get it," you start speaking, "You're annoyed at me not giving you attention." Scara's staring at you with wide eyes, before relaxing his expression. "What? Excuse me? Bold of you to assume I care for your attention, I just don't like Kaeya." He responds, wrapping his hands around your arm, "Let me go, you look stupid."

"Let you go? Oh, you wish," you chuckle at him. He's pushing you away, but you quickly take the chance to take his hands and pin them above his head. Scara blinks at you, "Uh- don't we have somewhere to go? Didn't you need some kind of materials for one of your stupid friends or whatever?" You lean closer to him, "That can wait, I have better things to do now."

"Psh, like what? Keep me here until I apologize for talking about your dear Kaeya?" He laughs, smirking at you. You shake your head, "Shut your mouth." "Oh, you wish," he quotes your words, tilting his head to the side. Alright yeah you've had enough.

You lean into his neck, biting down immediately. He gasps, "What- the fuck are you doing?" You just ignore him, sucking on the spot and then moving to another. Scara's complaining and gasping whenever you bite down harsher. But then he finally shuts up when you bite at a spot on his neck, making him gasp again. He suddenly moans when you suck another dark mark. You pull away to stare at him, "Huh? Where did your complains go?" He's got a light blush on his face as he rolls his eyes at you, "Shut up."

"Okay," you simply respond, going back to leave marks. It's not long until he's trying to get his hands out of your grasp. When you're done, you kiss every mark that you made. "Oh, for fucks sake just move on," he groans. You don't, of course. After a few more kisses, he's about to say something again, but you press your lips against his, shutting him up. Your other hand went to stay on his chest, tracing shapes.

Then you wrap it around his neck, slightly squeezing. He gasps and you let your tongue in. You move your hand back to his chest, going more down. You made out with Scara, him starting to make noise in your mouth, having enough of you teasing him, whatever.

Once you pull away, you tell him to shut up again, seeing that he's opening his mouth. And he does. "Your jealousy is stupid and I've had enough," you say, dragging the tips of your fingers down his stomach. Then you stop right above where he'd want you to touch him.

"And I've had enough of you teasing m-" he decides to speak, but you cut him off with a kiss. He tries to get out of your hand again, but do you let him? No.

You pull away from his face, sighing, "Guess I'll have to fuck that out of you, no?" He blinks, but doesn't dare to speak again.

He's holding onto that tree for dear life, your thrusts being rough. Your hands holding his hips as you lean down to speak in his ear, "Can you hear yourself? You're moaning like a bitch." He whines, one of his hands going down to touch himself. You see it, of course, and take your hand away to slap his away. "Don't you dare," you dig your nails in his skin, "You think you're allowed to do that?"

He moans, head falling back, "Please-" "Oh hell no, you won't get away with that," you fuck into him harder, "Ah, I'll fuck that jealousy out of you, slut." Scara's hands try to hold himself up on that tree, but you hitting him right there has him getting weaker. And once you wrap a hand around his dick-

His moans increase in volume. Your hand goes to his chest as you push him to straighten his back. You push him against the tree, hand jerking him quicker while you continue fucking him.

His hands go into fists, his head fallen back, mouth open, tongue lolling out. You can't help but laugh, leaning closer to him. "You like my attention, hm?" You speak, kissing the mark at the back of his neck. Scara whines out, "Yes, fuck, please- more, pleashe, fuck-!"

"So pathetic, Scara," you leave kisses on his shoulder, "You're so loud. That desperate for my attention, huh?"

#☆°• ☆ ask box #☆°• ☆ writings #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader smut #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin x reader smut #☆°• ☆ drink up

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shenachigans · 1 year

Text

LOST YOU | Natasha Romanoff

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

CW: angst no comfort, mentions of cheating (Nat), implied that Nat has a cock, implied WandaNat, pregnancy (Wanda)

PROMPT: 44 — “I need you to tell me the truth” Prompt pt. 3

A/N: Trying to cure my writer’s block by using prompts (I have no idea what I wrote, kindly excuse this mess). First time writing for Nat. Let’s just say vision was human and can impregnate for more drama. We love drama. *wink wink*

A/N (4/3/23): I added a paragraph or so to make it seem that the baby is Nat’s, which means I debunked the whole “Vision is human and can impregnate” thing where we don’t know if the baby was Vision’s or Nat’s, but it was clear from the beginning that it’s Nat’s huhu.

WORDS: 1,721

Lost You — Pt. II

(FANFIC IS UNDER THE CUT!)

“I need you to tell me the truth,” you croaked out as you tried to hold your ground from breaking down in front of her, but the crack in your voice ruined your facade. You can’t keep letting her get away with things, not anymore. You’re tired and drained. You couldn’t do this anymore, for your sake. You didn’t want to hate her, even when you should, considering she had been hurting you. “You can’t keep lying to me, Nat. ”

Natasha expected to see you sitting in the middle or at the edge of your shared bed, doing something to occupy yourself as you waited for her to retire to your shared chambers, but she wasn’t expecting this. She wasn’t expecting the usually prim and proper room littered with clothes and your luggage—and you, putting your clothes away, your back facing her. You shakily breathe, “How long have you been seeing her?” She hesitantly walked toward you, heels clacking against the wooden floor with each step. “What are you talking about, detka—”

You interrupted her with a scoff when you turned to face her with a pained and angry expression, and she immediately shut up upon the sight. She always acts clueless for someone who could easily see through someone’s facade. You thought that it was pathetic of her to deflect what you said. “Don’t change the subject, Romanoff!” you hissed. Oh, you’re mad. “Stop lying and tell me the truth! You know what I’m talking about.”

Only when she saw your glistening eyes with unshed tears that she realizes what you said. Her stomach churned, and her heart dropped. Natasha balled her fists, and her eyes widened, but she refused to look at you and deemed that the floor was suddenly more interesting to look at. Regardless, she reluctantly nodded, indicating that she would tell you the truth. Her eyes pooled with unshed tears as a wave of regret and guilt washed over her. She got caught—right before she could end things with her.

“How long?” Nat shivered at your tone. Her eyes flickered to yours and caught a glimpse of your expression before you turned away and continued gathering your things. It was emotionless—dead—and it was because of her. She flinched when you repeated your question with more context, more daggers through your heart as you emphasized that word. “How long have you been cheating on me? With Wanda?”

“Two—” Natasha swallowed the lump in her throat, and it felt like she had digested a bitter pill. She cringed at her words. “O-Only two months.” You closed your eyes, and your dam of tears shattered. Your cheeks stung as salty droplets cascaded down your skin. ‘Only two months’? Three years of marriage down the drain because of a sixty-day affair? Nat saw you tremble and put a hand on your mouth to keep yourself from sobbing, but it didn’t work. She wanted to hold you in her arms but knew it would only worsen the situation.

“WHY?!” you snapped, turning around to face her again. Your eyes and cheeks were red as tears continued to roll down your face. “Was I not good enough? Did I not please you enough? I gave you everything! I gave you my soul and body to use as you pleased, so why?!” You saw that Natasha was silently crying but was trying to stop herself from doing so. You knew the answer, but you carried on regardless.

You weren’t giving her enough attention because of your demanding work as a doctor and she was an Avenger, both needed by the world, but you gave her everything when you could. Natasha just needed more, but you weren’t there when she needed you, so she found someone else: her fellow Avenger who had just lost Vision. It was supposed to be a one or two-time affair for meaningless sex, but the ex-assassin kept returning to her, even when you were free from work. She was going to end things before she lost you, but she was too late.

“Does she have something I don’t?” Natasha denies it. “Does she let you use her better than I do?” She denies it. “Does she make you happier than I do?” She denies it. “Then why did you not choose me over her?” She doesn’t answer, and you sigh, running your hands through your face before placing a hand on your chest as you mutter, “I’M YOUR WIFE, FOR FUCKING SAKE, NATASHA!” The word ‘wife’ triggered her to fall to her knees and watch as you sat at the edge of the bed in frustration, hand holding your face as more tears ran down your face. “You could’ve told me you wanted more. I would’ve given everything up to make you happy. You just needed to tell me, not her…”

You were a sobbing mess because of Nat, and it greatly pained her how badly she had hurt you. She doesn’t even know why she keeps coming back to her because you are the one she loves, not her. Natasha shuffled on her knees before you, gently grabbing your wrists as she pressed her forehead against yours, mumbling, “I’m sorry,” over, and over again. You had so many unanswered questions, but the answers will only add more daggers to your bleeding heart. You couldn’t take more pain, not when a bullet of news had pierced your heart hours ago. “Divorce papers are coming in a few days,” you sniffled. “I don’t want anything; just leave me be.” You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to leave her, but you couldn’t stay.

The ex-assassin’s eyes widened at your statement. You’re leaving her. She doesn’t want to lose you. You were the greatest thing that had happened to her, but she overlooked the fact and messed up. “No, no, no, no,” she rambled. “Please, let me make things right. Give me another chance. Please. I can’t lose you, Y/n.” Natasha’s tone was genuine. You looked at her eyes, and they were begging you to stay and forgive her, but you couldn’t. A cheater will always be a cheater.

“Wanda revealed your affair and begged for my forgiveness this morning, begging me to forgive you and that it was her fault for causing this mess.” You bitterly chuckled. “I was going to give you one more chance because I love you… but she’s with a child.” Your future ex-wife’s eyes widened when you uttered the words she feared. Her worst fear about her two-month fling came true, but she couldn’t accept it. “T-There must be a mistake!” Nat’s eyes were pleading that it was false news. “It can’t be my child!”

As much as Natasha hurt you for cheating and getting someone else pregnant, it pained you to see the horrified expression on her face. You wanted to hold her in your arms, but it will only keep you from leaving. “The only one she was ever with when she lost Vision was you,” you trailed off and reluctantly cupped her face, making her flinch and tighten her hold on your wrists. “Vision is a robot, Nat. He can’t physically have children with Wanda even if they wanted to…” Natasha wanted to cut you off, to shut you up from speaking, but she was too broken and in shock to do anything, making you say your words to slap her in the face with a reality check; “The baby is yours.”

You felt her hands tremble, and your lap was damp with her tears. You didn’t want to stay with a cheater, even if you loved her with all your heart. You can’t be mad—you weren’t mad— just sad and disappointed at yourself for not making her happy. You deserved this. “I can’t stay, Natalia, even if I wanted to.” The older woman cried, tears gushing down her face and pleading with you that she can make this work like how it was before when nothing was wrong, “W-Wanda isn’t in the right emotional state to carry a child, she’s still grieving a-and, and and she wouldn't want to raise a child she doesn’t even want—”

“She wishes to keep the child, Nat… I let her,” you tenderly, yet sadly, smiled as you pressed your forehead against hers. The room was filled with questions about why you approved Wanda’s selfish request. You let another woman carry your wife’s child, but that's the thing, Natasha was soon to be your ex-wife. While it hurt you that Wanda wanted to keep the child, you realized that the child had nothing to do with breaking your relationship with Nat. It was Natasha’s own actions, as well as yours, that led to this situation. You knew Wanda was grieving Vision’s loss, and you hoped her baby would bring her comfort and help her have a breakthrough. Natasha hated how you were always so selfless, willing to sacrifice yourself for someone else’s happiness.

“Don’t leave me, Y/n, please. I can make this work, I’ll cherish you, I love you—please—” Natasha sobbed, and you felt her tears sting your tear-stained-cheeks. She knew that you wanted the child to grow up in a healthy family, which means you had to be out of the picture so they wouldn’t grow up feeling that they were a mistake and ruined a relationship that wouldn’t work out anyway. You want them to feel loved, to be surrounded by the people who raised them. You’re leaving because you love Natasha and you consider her child as your own, but she doesn’t want to lose you.

You let go of her face to leave, but Nat’s immediate vice grip around you prevented you from doing so. She got up from the floor and fell onto you, pressing her body against yours as your back collided with the mattress. She prevented you from leaving by tackling you into a hug, straddling your waist as her arms wrapped around your torso. The ex-assassin was stronger than you, so trying to get out of her grip would be futile. You reluctantly wrapped your arms around her neck as tears started to run down your face again, mirroring her. Natasha’s sobs and another wave of apologies filled the room. You let her hold you for the last time because she knew she truly had lost you.

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