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#which means this will also be the last one I’ll be responding to
becauseimanicequeen · 24 hours
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Don't Ask Me for QL Recommendations Because My Taste is BAD
Bad as in TRASHY.
For your own good, don't ask me for recommendations.
I'm writing this because I've gotten some asks lately for QL recommendations and I wanted to spare you the pain.
If you still don't trust me (because to be fair, why would you? I'm just a random weirdo on the internet), let me tell you how bad my taste is so you'll know why I'm doing you a great favor by sparing you the pain.
(I also watch, and rewatch, series/films for ridiculous reasons, yet another reason not to listen to me. I’ll come back to this in a minute.)
Let's start with a brief rewind to a couple of decades ago (because it matters in this context).
The first queer content of any kind I can remember watching was Xena: The Warrior Princess in the late 90s and early 00s (I was a child/pre-teen at the time). It was such a pivotal point for me, which is why I remember it vividly. Not only was Lucy Lawless (the actress playing Xena) the most beautiful human being I had ever seen at that point, Xena was also queer and I loved her.
The series, though? It’s bad.
It’s over-the-top, contains ridiculous humor, face-palm-worthy fight scenes, etc., etc. (But, it was also the 90s, so it was quality television at the time, no matter what anyone else says.) It was so bad that it was ridiculously entertaining. I would watch it today (if I could find it anywhere…). That’s how bad my taste is (or how attached I am to bad shit).
That’s when the groundwork for my bad taste was laid. I blame THANK Xena: The Warrior Princess for it.
Then there was a huge skip until July last year when I found the Asian QL world, because I had no idea it even existed (I’m from Europe, btw).
(My personal story is that I fell into the queer/gay film world before the QL world, and the queer films I could find were made and released very sporadically. But ever since I found the treasure trove of Asian QL series in July 2023, I’ve watched 291 series/films as of right now.)
The reason I fell into the Asian QL world was thanks to a Short on YouTube with the main characters from Roommates of Poongduck 304 kissing. (Want to know what convinced me to watch it? One of them was wearing blue and the other pink, two of my favorite colors. Yep, that’s the reason. Told you it would be ridiculous.)
Since then, I’ve been exploring this rabbit hole and loving every second of all the bad shit that’s out there (there’s some great shit too, and some great things that aren’t shit at all, but they’re not really my taste because my taste is trashy, remember?).
I quickly noticed what my taste was pulling me towards and, in some cases, the trashier it was, the more I liked it.
(I’m talking about fiction here. I’m mature enough to be able to separate fiction from reality. Just because I enjoy watching a series/film that depicts a problematic topic, and sometimes do it in a problematic way, doesn’t mean I condone it in real life. I’m just putting this here as a disclaimer because people on the internet are easily offended nowadays. And I honestly don’t have time to respond to people who are venting their anger after purposefully misinterpreting what I’ve said, unless there’s a very valid reason, which there usually isn’t.)
So, what are some of my favorites that I absolutely do not recommend you watch?
Unless you want to watch trash, then, have at it. Just don't say I didn't warn you.
(Btw, if you like any of these, I apologize for calling your taste bad and trashy. But, if you like any of these, I think you already know your taste is bad. Also, if you like any of these, hey, bestie!)
Let’s start with the less extreme ones so I don’t scare you away from the start. After that, they’re in no particular order.
(With the issues/TW section for each series/film I include possible trigger warnings, taboo topics, what viewers/commenters have brought up as problematic, my possible issues with the writing, etc. I won’t list everything (because some of them would have looong lists) but I’m including some of the major ones.)
Kiseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan)
Issues/TW: Dubious consent, age gap, “adoptive” brothers becoming lovers, etc.
Both couples in this series have their own set of issues. Ai Di and Chen Yi are the “adoptive” brothers who become lovers while Ze Rui and Zong Yi have an age gap (I can’t remember how big of an age gap but I think it was close to 10-ish years).
(Before I move on there’s one thing you should know about me… I was born into a family with a varying degree of age gaps within marriages, from 2 to 23 years. Even though we’ve talked about the bigger age gaps occasionally, it’s never been an issue. I don’t mind age gaps as long as they’re legal. Does that mean I would hook up with someone in their late teens or early twenties? No. I would rather hook up with someone who has a fully developed brain, which science suggests doesn’t happen until somewhere in the mid-to-late-twenties. But it does mean that age gaps (as long as they’re legal) aren’t something I’ll be bothered by or judgemental of.)
Kiseki: Dear to Me is one of my favorite series because:
It’s from Taiwan, and the Taiwanese QLs are generally great at dealing with more difficult and taboo topics.
Ai Di is the feistiest, most colorful, and pettiest bitch and I love him with my entire ice-cold heart.
Chen Yi looks amazing in black.
The neon lights (because I’m a slut for that).
Also, the kissing (from both couples) is great.
You know, I did say that these would be series/films I absolutely do not recommend you watch. But I’ll actually recommend this one. Watch it. It’s great.
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Unknown (Taiwan)
Issues/TW: Age gap, “adoptive” brothers becoming lovers, etc.
This is another one I’ll actually recommend you watch because it’s great.
The main couple (Qian and Yuan) are the “adoptive” brothers becoming lovers while the age gap is most prominent between San Pang (Qian’s business partner) and Lili (Qian’s younger sister). There’s also the fact that San Pang is part of their chosen family and has seen Lili grow up and stuff. So, if that bothers you, then don’t watch it.
The biggest reasons I would personally recommend it to those I know aren’t particularly bothered by taboo topics are because:
The yearning is palpable (and I love shit like that).
Qian would move heaven and earth for his family.
The great story.
The even more amazing acting.
Some moments made me bawl (and since I'm an ice queen, I get obsessed with shit that shatters my ice and makes me cry).
I know I said my taste is trashy… but I would actually give myself a gold star for loving this one.
Now, back to the real trash…
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Love in the Air (Thailand)
Issues/TW: Dubious consent, SA, rape, MAME, etc.
Everyone and their aunt (or however the saying goes in English) seem to have an issue with MAME (the original creator of LITA and several other trashy BLs) and for good reason. (I would say that she improved a lot with Wedding Plan, which is the least problematic thing I’ve watched from her and it’s the latest series of hers, as of right now.) If she’s grown, remains to be seen. But it doesn’t change the fact that LITA has some issues.
Honestly, I just watch this for the visuals, as in the motorcycles and the neon lights. That’s it. That’s the reason.
I mean, if you look at the whole first sex scene between Sky and Prapai, you get what I mean with the neon lights. It’s divine. (I recently rewatched LITA for this very reason. A waste of time, you say? Not when you’re a slut for neon lights.)
Don’t watch this though! Just enjoy this gif instead…
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I just saved you 13-ish hours of your life. You’re welcome.
TharnType and TharnType 2: 7 Years of Love (Thailand)
Issues/TW: Dubious consent, homophobia, domestic violence, MAME, etc.
Don’t watch this. This is bad. As in, really bad. And all the issues are in the main couple’s relationship.
But, since my taste is really bad, I rewatched this recently for horny reasons (it’s Mew, after all, and he’s got me in a chokehold for some reason). It’s still as bad as I remembered it, but I would still rewatch it for Mew’s sake (and because Techno is ridiculous throughout both seasons, which means I love him).
To be fair there are other, a lot spicier, series that I watch more often for horny reasons (yes, some of them are in this post because they’re trashy too), but none of them include Mew. And since I have to get my dose of Mew from time to time, I return to TharnType (especially the second season).
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Big Dragon (Thailand)
Issues/TW: Dubious consent, blackmail, etc.
This isn’t that problematic in my opinion, but there is definitely a drug-induced sexcapade that’s taped and used for blackmail for a while. And that's how the series starts.
I recently did a rewatch of this and it was still bad (in a good way) and I loved every second of it.
What I love about this series are:
The visuals. The set designs are beautiful (especially Yai’s home and the bar, before he demolishes it). As a visual artist, this is speaking to my soul.
The chemistry between Yai and Mangkorn.
Pong and Park. Two idiots I love with my whole ice-cold heart.
And the title track because it’s addictive as hell to listen to.
Also, the sex (which my horny ass needs). Let's not forget the sex. Those scenes were also visually stunning, which made me love them even more.
Honestly, I'll kneel and bow down to this shit because it's that great.
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Don’t trust my judgment, though, because my taste is trashy.
Only Friends (Thailand)
Issues/TW: Manipulation, stalking, promiscuity, etc.
This series is messy in terms of intrigue (especially from Boston and then Boeing’s part). The ending had some issues. The sex isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, either. I, on the other hand, would drink a whole pot of this.
Overall, I loved this trash. Mainly because of:
How visually stunning it is.
Sand. He’s a hardworking, good person. He’s also a proud bi!
How they depicted and handled Ray’s addiction and recovery. (I know some watchers were upset that the focus of the series landed on Sand and Ray towards the end while neglecting the other characters, which is a valid point. However, setting that aside, the way they portrayed Ray’s addiction and then his road to recovery in the last couple of episodes was realistic, and I loved it.)
The promiscuity, because I loved it and the mess it created.
Boston being a slutty asshole. The more of a slutty asshole he was, the more I loved him. (I know, it’s a me-problem.)
Boeing coming in and kissing (almost) everyone.
It’s trashy, it’s messy, and I love it!
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But, I don’t recommend it to anyone.
My Beautiful Man 1, 2, and 3 Eternal (Japan)
Issues/TW: Dubious consent, obsession, bullying, lack of (or no real) communication, etc.
I love this series (2 seasons + 1 film), but I honestly don’t see it as particularly problematic. But I know others will disagree with me, so here it is on my list of trashy QLs.
I don’t mind Hira’s obsession because I know Kiyoi is just as whipped for Hira (even though he doesn’t know how to communicate it to Hira at first, especially in a way that Hira understands). Would I be okay with someone’s obsession and stalking in real life? Of course not. But, as I mentioned before, I’m mature enough to separate fiction from reality.
Also, I love miscommunicating characters, especially when the misunderstandings they create bring out all the emotions (angst, hurt, anger, sadness, embarrassment, etc.) and even the flight response. I especially love miscommunicating characters when they learn to communicate throughout the series/film. And this series is especially delicious on the miscommunicating part.
But, it’s also problematic, apparently. So, don’t watch it.
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The End of the World With You (Japan)
Issues/TW: Blackmail, biphobia, cheating, etc.
I’ll be honest and say that I’ve only watched this series three times. And that’s because the biphobia is fucking annoying. In this series, the bi character is depicted as a cheater (which is common in QLs, btw). It’s an exasperating stereotype. Cheating has nothing to do with your sexuality and everything to do with who you are as a person.
(I mean, you can be a proud bi like Payu in LITA or Sand in OF. They have eyes only for one person as soon as they’re pursuing or dating someone. Give me more bi characters like this, please.)
We could discuss how cheating can be used as characterization in certain stories. But not in this one. Here, they’re basically using Ritsu’s bisexuality as the reason he’s cheating (since he’s sleeping with Masumi while having a thing going on with a girl, and then sleeping with a girl when he has a thing with Masumi), which is why it’s bothering me in this series.
If I’m going to tell you why I like this series, however, it’s for 2 reasons:
It’s about getting a second chance, a topic I love.
The sex (laser-focused horny Ritsu is my favorite Ritsu).
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Check Out (Thailand)
Issues/TW: Biphobia, cheating, lazy writing, etc.
(It should be mentioned that I’ve read some comments about some issues involving the company behind this series. I haven’t dug deeper into this so I don’t really know if there’s any substance to the comments I’ve read (like official statements from the company or the other people involved, etc.). But I’m putting this out there in case this might be a potential issue for you (even though I’ve already told you that I don’t recommend you watch any of these because they’re all trashy).)
When I first checked this out at the beginning of this year, this series seemed to have created a storm of bad comments and reviews on MDL since it first came out. So, obviously, I needed to watch it because my taste is trashy.
And, you know what? I loved it!
Besides having the bi character depicted as a cheater (again, the use of this biphobic stereotype is so fucking annoying) and the sporadic clunky and stale scenes, I loved this series because:
It’s about second chances. As I mentioned before, I love that topic.
Best (the actor playing Daonuea) is the best in this series. There’s just something about him that grabs my attention every time. He has me in a similarly tight chokehold as Mew.
There’s sex (and my horny ass needs it).
But, it’s also trash, so don’t watch it.
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Pit Babe (Thailand)
Issues/TW: Domestic violence, non-consensual, SA, age gap, etc.
This became popular. Really popular. I saw people comment about it everywhere. And usually, when stuff becomes popular, it’s more than likely reduced to trash quality by the general public. So, obviously, I had to watch it.
Did I end up loving it? Yes.
Honestly, the biggest issue this series had for me was the whole omegaverse thing (this was a new thing for me because I don’t come from an erotic fiction background, my head was rather stuck in fantasy fiction). And, from my limited understanding of this, they didn’t seem to fully commit to the omegaverse thing in Pit Babe, which was unfortunate.
The racing was also so-so for me, which hurt my soul because I usually love racing (cars, mcs, boats, etc.).
What I did like, however, was:
The chemistry between Pete and Kenta (and I’m so sad I only got crumbs of this).
Pavel (the actor playing Babe). I would watch and listen to him recite product placement scripts for toothpaste all day long.
The sex, especially the scene with Babe and Charlie in ep. 9 (even though it was mixed with clips from the racing) and Jeff and Alan’s scene in ep. 13 (because it was sensual, if we ignore the music).
The neon lights (have I mentioned that I’m a slut for neon lights?). I mean, just look at this:
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I can watch that pinkish light all day long, even though Babe and Charlie are trying to distract me. (Especially Pavel!)
Dead Friend Forever (Thailand)
Issues/TW: Grooming, bullying, suicide & suicide attempts, etc.
Besides the issues listed above, this also suffered from lazy writing at the end. BUT, I fucking loved DFF anyway.
I never expected to love this series because it’s just a bunch of teenagers stuck at a house in the woods. How interesting could that be? Turns out, very.
DFF wasn’t perfect (perfection doesn’t exist anyway), but what I loved about it was:
The morally ambiguous characters.
The revenge plot.
The poetic justice.
The questioning of what was real vs hallucination.
The visually stunning shots.
The mask!
And Tan’s mask!
The beheading scene.
I could go on, but you get the point. I just love this piece of trash.
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But, please, don’t watch it. You will suffer from brain rot. Trust me.
I, however, am currently rewatching this because I choose the brain rot. And my taste is trashy, remember? Or, perhaps I just love watching chaos unfold…
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HIStory 3: Make Our Days Count (Taiwan)
Issues/TW: Dubious consent, age gap, tragic ending, etc.
Everyone and their aunt and even their dog have an issue with the ending of this one. And it’s understandable.
I don’t necessarily like or dislike the ending. Obviously, the bury your gays trope is tragic in itself, and, tragically, it’s still being used. That’s why I couldn’t find myself liking the ending, even though I don’t mind tragic endings. (Romeo and Juliet is one of my favorite classics, which people tend to forget is a tragedy and not a romance, btw, but I digress…)
At the same time, though, this series made me cry for a whole episode before tragedy struck because I could feel it. And you have no idea how obsessed I get about shit that makes me cry (since I’m an ice queen).
(Another side note: one of my favorite BLs is Once Again, which made me bawl throughout the whole series. It’s not on this list because it’s neither trashy nor bad, but it’s still one of my favorites because it broke me in the best ways. But, anyway…)
The best part of this series from beginning to end was the other couple, at least for me. This couple is the one with the age gap (which, again, doesn’t bother me) and I fucking love them! One, because Wilson Liu (the actor playing Bo Xiang) is such a gem. Second, because their first time was such a spur-of-the-moment thing fueled by a desire that went from 0-100kph in less time than a Ferrari would. And I loved it (just as much as the squeezing of boobs from behind, which, for some reason, appeals to me).
Also, the twins are so pretty it’s annoying.
Do I recommend it, though? No, because I don’t have time to respond to the clap back I’ll get when you come to the end.
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HIStory 4: Close to You (Taiwan)
Issues/TW: Dubious consent, SA, obsession, age gap, stepbrothers becoming lovers, etc.
This one has some problems (especially the relationship between Yong Jie and Xing Si), but I love both the series and its problems (yes, I’m trash). You could say that I’m as obsessed with this series as Yong Jie is with Xing Si. Would I get this series drunk and fuck the living daylights out of it? No. But I would watch it once every 3 months or so. Oh, wait… I already do that. Because I’m trash.
What do I love so much about this series (other than what I mentioned above):
It’s from Taiwan.
Li Cheng is ridiculous, which is exactly why I love him.
Every time I rewatch it, it gets funnier.
The chemistry between Li Cheng and Teng Teng is amazing.
As well as the chemistry between Yong Jie and Xing Si.
The kissing is just as amazing.
The main fujoshi girl, Mei Fang, is so cute I can’t handle her.
And the bathroom scene! In that lighting! It’s iconic!
I don’t care what anyone else says. This is fucking gold to me. But, then again, my taste is trash. So, don’t listen to me.
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KinnPorsche (Thailand)
Issues/TW: Dubious consent, SA, torture, Stockholm syndrome-ish, etc.
This is some next-level trash, and I fucking love it.
Two of the major relationships in this series (Kinn & Porsche and Vegas & Pete) are problematic at some point. Especially Vegas and Pete who have this whole captor/captive, torture, BDSM-ish type relationship. Of course, I love Vegas and Pete because my taste is super trashy (yes, it’s a me-problem, but I don’t force my taste on other people, so, for the love of all that is holy, don’t watch this!).
Other reasons I love this series and rewatch it from time to time:
It’s visually stunning! The cinematography is amazing. As I mentioned before, I’m a visual artist, so this is a very valid reason for me to watch it again and again. And again.
The neon lights.
The whole mafia thing.
The sex (because my horny ass needs it).
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Playboyy (Thailand)
Issues/TW: SA, homophobia, suicide, etc.
I was debating whether or not to add this to my list solely based on the ending. However, up until that point, I really liked it.
The fact that every episode starts with a whole ass list of trigger warnings tells me this is my shit. And it was.
At times, it was so bad that it was good (until the ending, which was just so bad it was bad). The things I liked were:
The mystery.
Win (who played Nuth). His acting was great.
The chemistry between Nuth and Phop.
The tattooed daddy that’s Aob and his chemistry with Puen (there’s also an age gap here, btw, but as I’ve mentioned before, it’s fine by me as long as it’s legal).
The weird ass sex scenes (and the underwear).
And the not so weird ass sex scenes (like the ones between Aob and Puen and the ones between Nuth and Phop).
But, this series is trashy. Keep as far away from it as possible. If you still decide to dip in, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
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Red Wine in the Dark Night (Thailand)
Issues/TW: Obsession, blood, human blood bags, etc.
This is a queer film that’s BL-ish with some dark themes. Mainly, it’s about how far Wine would go to help the person he’s fallen for (or become attached to).
What I loved about this film was:
Fluke (who plays Wine). He’s such a great actor and I love him in everything he does.
Wine who is so desperate to love someone and be loved that he ends up doing some weird shit.
The darker and sadder vibe, which I love.
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Irresistible Love 1 and Irresistible Love 2 (China)
(This is also called Uncontrolled Love.) 
Issues/TW: Obsession, homophobia, codependency, adoptive brothers becoming lovers, etc.
This is another queer film (in two parts) that is more BL-ish than the films I’m getting into below.
This depicts a weird relationship dynamic between Xie Yan and Shu Nian where Shu Nian was basically adopted into the family to become Xie Yan’s friend/babysitter/lackey. This is some weird ass shit, and I love weird ass shit so I really enjoyed this rare, uncensored, gem from China.
But, it’s also trashy. So, don’t watch it.
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The next couple of films I’ll mention are (obviously) trashy, but also complex and deep (which is why I love them).
One Summer Night (South Korea)
Issues/TW: Obsession, dependency, oppression, etc.
This is a low-budget film from 2016 (so, production-wise, it’s definitely nothing like the usual stuff from South Korea you can watch on Netflix), but I love it.
It’s gritty, it’s raw, it’s explicit (an emphasis on explicit because you’ll see dicks), it deals with being a North Korean defector but ending up in an impoverished situation in South Korea, and it ends with a dubious ending you can interpret in different ways.
This is definitely not for the general QL viewers who watch QLs for the cutesy stuff.
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And it's trashy. So, don’t watch it.
Dangerous Drugs of Sex (Japan)
Issues/TW: All the trigger warnings! Seriously. I feel like it’s better to say that so you’ll look up the TWs for yourself (if you choose to watch this, which I'm asking you not to) rather than me mentioning a few and forgetting others.
With this film, what others see are all the trigger warnings (and, yes, I see them too, they’re fucking obvious). However, I can see beyond that and watch it for what it is at the core: Two characters dealing with incredible grief.
Grief is a topic that often affects me and I can relate to it because I’ve had to deal with a lot of grief in my relatively short life. Watching a film like this where grief pushes the characters to their very limits will (often) get a special place in my heart, especially if done well. And it’s done very well in this film.
Do I condone the characters’ behaviors? No (especially not Yoden Ryoji’s). But I do understand that grief can send you over the edge (and in some cases throw you off the edge) because I’ve experienced it. I do understand that grief can cause you to make horrible decisions because I’ve done it (though, not this extreme). I do understand that grief can be self-destructive because I’ve been there. This film shows it all. That’s why I love it so much.
Do I recommend you watch this, tough? No. Don’t do it. This is not for everyone. It’s definitely not for those who watch QLs for the cutesy stuff.
But it is for me because I love trash. Especially good trash. And this is the best trash I’ve ever seen when it comes to gay films.
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Anything by Scud Cheng
Lastly, I want to mention any film by Scud Cheng because…
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And I’m an artist so art means everything to me.
Cheng is a screenwriter and director from Hong Kong. His films, the ones I’ve seen, are gritty, nude, and real. They are more on the art side than the others I’ve listed above, which is why they have a special place in my heart.
They’re also deep and explore themes like introspection (are we doing things because we believe they’re the right thing to do, or because external forces have “brainwashed” us to believe they’re the normal thing to do?), the porn industry and how it exploits young and queer men, death, politics, and love, to name a few.
These are not for the average QL watcher. They’re not for the faint of heart. They’re not for those who want an entertaining watch.
These films require multiple viewings. I’ve watched some once, some twice, and some more times, and I still find new themes and meanings woven into the stories. So, they’re complex and deep.
But, don’t watch them because I know you’ll come at me later. So, to spare us both the time and energy it would take to argue about this shit, just don’t watch any of it.
Now, if you still want to ask me for recommendations after all that, don't tell me I didn't warn you!
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midnightsun-if · 5 months
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Sorry if this sounds rude, but I have some things I need to get off my chest. Frankly, the whole Scarlett situation kind of sucks, and the way you’re handling things is not exactly helping matters. I get you have a specific vision for her character, and as a fellow author I would never suggest you compromise that to appease a bunch of sexist, entitled fans, but you’ve given so much attention to her character that it honestly comes as no surprise that people wouldn’t respect her sexuality, as bad as that is to say.
I’ve personally sent numerous asks in the past, and you haven’t answered a single one, so either you’re intentionally ignoring them, or tumblr ate them. If it’s the later, then I’m sorry for accusing you. You’re obviously not under any obligation to answer asks you don’t want to, but I admit it does sting a bit to see Scarlet Ask #523759690 on my feed when I have yet to see a single one of mine. You may not think you have a favorite character, but from an outside perspective, you 100% do.
The amount of attention Scarlett receives compared to the rest of the cast (seriously, when was the last time Caden got an ask dedicated to them?) is truly astounding. Fans will naturally have their favorites, but as an author you should remain impartial… which you really haven’t. In fact, it seems like you actively encourage the Scarlett attention. It’s like you keep showing off a fancy car that only a few people can actually buy, then get upset when people complain they can’t buy the car as well.
Anyways, I’m sorry for this rant, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. I wish you luck on your writing journey, and hope you have a happy holiday (if you’re in a country that celebrates any upcoming holidays)!
I truly don’t know what to say other than the fact that I haven’t seen your asks and that I’m trying to avoid Scarlett asks when it specifically involves the discourse with her sexuality— which also may contribute to the possibility on why I haven’t seen them, if that’s what they involved— as I mentioned in my one-and-done post about it… I don’t want to keep this as a reoccurring theme on the blog as I know that many people will grow tired of it just like I have.
I answer Scarlett centric asks, barring when I answer scenario asks about the family and/or the ROs, mainly due to the fact that she’s the one people single out— if someone sends me an ask about C, or Blake, or anyone else, I’ll answer it… It just happens to be that Scarlett gets the most asks when it comes to that sort of thing— and those asks are typically much easier/faster to answer than the all-in-one asks— I’d be more than happy to answer singular asks about any number of my characters. And I have in the past when someone sends something in.
All I can truly say? If not being able to romance Scarlett is this big of an issue, and I truly am saying this as nicely as I can… I don’t think Midnight Sun is the right IF for you. I believe I know a couple more IFs with an Ice Queen type RO, or adjacent RO, that may suit you better if you’d like to me share them!
And, I’d just like to make this small point, I get upset, or am starting to, because it’s a point I’ve brought up over and over again— Scarlett isn’t a lesbian to create an inconvenience for the player… She’s a lesbian because it’s part of who she is. Sending me asks saying “I can change her” or “Give us Scarlett and the F!MCs Koda” (among other things) is absolutely abhorrent in the best case scenario. There are 7 other ROs for you to choose from— all of which offer their own unique routes and experiences within Midnight Sun.
Scarlett isn’t changing, I’m standing firm with this. I’m not going to ever change my mind about it— I’m sorry if that upsets anyone, but it’s not something I’m backing down on.
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lemonlover1110 · 4 months
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𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Summary: Your husband usually calls for you to join him during his bath.
Warnings: MDNI, mentions of Sukuna killing people, rough pregnancy, Sukuna being fluffy (so slightly ooc), reader is mean to Sukuna
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Ever since you shared the news of your pregnancy with your husband, Sukuna has become more loving. The man who’d talk to you however he wanted, now makes sure to soften his voice when talking to you. He wants to see you every hour of the day, even when you don’t want to see him. Sukuna is seeing how you’re struggling with your pregnancy, and he wants to check up on you constantly.
You’re not too far along that you both know of, yet you’re huge. He grows worried that his selfish want of a child will cause you harm. There’s one person that Sukuna would die for, and it’s you. If something were to happen to you because of himself then he’d– He doesn’t want to think of it.
Lately he’s been asking to take baths with you. At the end of the day, a servant walks into your chambers and informs you, “Lord Sukuna requests for you to join him in his bath, mistress.”
She bows her head to not look at you, scared that she’ll end up like the last servant that dared to look you in the eye. It was Sukuna’s doing because how dare someone look his wife in the eye? You sigh before telling her, “I’ll be there in a second.” 
She stands in the entrance of your room, given orders to not leave without you. Sure, Sukuna requests to see you but it’s an order from him. You don’t have much of an option. 
You follow behind her, and she excuses herself when you’re finally with him. Sukuna lays comfortably in the water, patiently waiting for you to get undressed and join him in the water. He watches as you take off all your garments and walk over to him when you’re completely bare. 
“You need to start leaving me alone, you’re starting to annoy me.” You tell him as you get in the water. Sukuna chuckles, finding it amusing how you’ve completely stopped fearing him. One of his hands caresses you from your breasts to your bump, resting there.
“Now, why are you getting mad at me? I thought you wanted a loving husband?” Sukuna comments, kissing the top of your head. Your hand rests on top of his, lightly squeezing it.
“I wanted one before he got me pregnant. I swear I must be carrying twins– Or the baby also has four arms. I don’t know, I’m just miserable.” You confess, and Sukuna kisses the top of your head again. He really shouldn’t have expected it to be any different. Sukuna’s huge, why would his baby be any different?
“It’s just one and done then?” He asks, and you hum in response. Maybe your answer will be different in a few years, but for now it’s that. He feels a tug on his heartstrings, seeing how much you’re struggling. He’s worried. “Are you holding up okay, though?”
“Not like we could do anything if I wasn’t.” You answer. He’s definitely much softer than your usual husband, and you would’ve loved it if you weren’t carrying a monster child. His hand remains on your stomach, and he feels as his baby kicks while you moan in pain. Sukuna shushes you, feeling as his baby moves.
“I’m trying to feel him! Shut up, woman!” He raises his voice, and you slightly turn to glare at him. A look that would surely kill you if you were anyone else.
“How does me making noise correlate with you feeling the baby! Think, Sukuna! Use your fucking brain.” You’re definitely bolder than usual, which makes him laugh. 
“You’re so beautiful when you’re yelling at me.” He says, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips so he can kiss it. “I love seeing you demanding and mean. It shows the effect I have on you.”
“Really?” You answer, and he hums in response. There’s no better time to bring up what’s been bugging you than now. “I hate that new servant you took in. Kick her out.”
“And why is that?” He asks. 
“She was looking at you funny.” You respond.
“In the sense?”
“She has the hots for you, and I don’t like it.”
“Hmm… What if I was looking for–” He begins and you glare at him. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, but he guesses that’s something that’s off limits when he tries to joke. “Don’t you want me to do more?”
“Like what?” You question, even though you should know your husband better than anyone.
“Kill her.” He answers. 
“Hmm… Up to you.” You reply. You lay comfortably on his chest, feeling as his finger traces lazy circles on your belly. You change the topic, “Why do you think it’s a boy?”
“I can’t see myself with a daughter.”
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osaemu · 2 months
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GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE
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✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW
contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.
author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍
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“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.
ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.
“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”
you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.
satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.
“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene. 
“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.
“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?
you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”
“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.
“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against. 
“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”
“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”
you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room. 
now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.
kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.
a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor. 
“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.
kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”
for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.
“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.
despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal? 
it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.
“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.
kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”
your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”
kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”
well, fuck.
“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”
“you too, detective. stay safe.”
“i’ll do my best.”
kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.
you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.
the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”
you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.
“what the fu—”
satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.
“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”
you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. 
“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.
true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?
“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.
“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.
satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”
you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”
“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second. 
“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”
“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.
“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.
“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”
“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.
satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”
you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”
“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”
your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”
“you wouldn’t dare.”
“wouldn’t i?”
you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”
“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”
satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”
he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.
“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”
“do i have a choice?”
“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket. 
seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.
and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.
“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”
you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.
but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.
“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”
“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips. 
“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”
he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.
“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.
“suck my dick.”
part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you. 
“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.
the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate. 
satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”
and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.
“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”
it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.
satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”
when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin. 
“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.
it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you. 
so, naturally, you stab him in the back.
not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat. 
satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?
at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.
“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”
“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.
satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”
and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.
what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.
but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”
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siredtosturniolos · 2 months
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house of mirrors
paring: chris sturniolo x reader
summary: halloween was without a doubt your favorite holiday, always seeking the thrill that comes with being scared. you find yourself going to the house of mirrors by yourself, but you never were truly alone, were you?
warnings: smut! sex w a stranger, mask kink if you squint. (heavily inspired by haunting adeline! a great dark romance book if you’re into that btw)
authors note!: guys this is my first like, fr smut so pls lmk how it is!! (also im new to tumblr and i can’t respond to comments on posts like what???) also hopefully this is proof read enough i kinda gave up lol
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
it was october 31st, your favorite time of the year which means your favorite halloween carnival had made its way back to santa monica blvd.
the west hollywood halloween carnival.
it was a tradition for you and your friends to attend every year, and you were typically the first to enter any frightening experience. you love the thrill of being scared, the thrill of not knowing what’s coming next and perhaps you liked it a little too much.
the silent gasps or he pressing of your thighs, was often how you spent your day during these experiences. especially anytime someone with a ghostface mask came in your line of sight
you and your friends had spent hours at the carnival attending various activities and shows having a good time. they had definitely stepped up their game from last year leaving you wanting more.
you see a sign, pointing in the direction of a haunted house of mirrors. quickly expressing to your friends do you wanted to go but they had had enough.
“you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna go through that.” one of your friends spoke, the others nod in agreement
You shrugged. “well i’m going, so i guess i’ll catch up with you guys later.”
“‘kay, be careful and have fun! we will be at the apple cider stand.” one of your friends offered with a smile, before you parted ways.
you kept walking in the direction of the house of mirrors, finding that it became less and less populated as you walked. it was on the edge of the carnival grounds, almost secluded, and you finally found it and saw that there was no one standing at the entrance, allowing yourself to slip inside wordlessly.
you didn’t know what to expect, but you were shocked seeing the mirrors surrounded by black painted walls with a slight red hue from the ceiling from the led lights. cob webs and fake spiders decorated the ceiling.
before you step in any further, you check the time cursing to yourself as you realize the fair is supposed to close in just over an hour.
mazes were one of your favorite things, and you were upset slightly that you had to rush due to not wanting to be stuck here after hours.
it takes all of five minutes before you’re lost, you keep your hands out in front of you preventing you from running face first into one of the mirrors. the feeling sunk in and your heart rate started pumping irradically, your breathing uneven with excitement.
you knew you weren’t alone, as this was supposed to be a haunted house of mirrors, desperately waiting for any signs of life as you knew someone would pop out to scare you soon.
in the distance, you hear a faint shuffling of feet, and you couldn’t help but grin yourself. you just hoped the mirrors wouldn’t ruin the ruin the scare as you quickly glanced around in all directions, trying to spot somebody.
you almost fall face first into a mirror, but you’re quickly distracted as you hear a chuckle. your head snaps up at the sound, your adrenaline spikes quickly pumping the chemical into your heart, and kicking up the speed further.
finding your way past the mirror that almost gave you a nose job you begin walking again.
“why aren’t you a pretty little thing?” a deep husky voice whispered, that seemed to have come from every direction of the room you were in. your limbs freeze, not sure if you were hearing or if it actually was whispered to you.
you keep charging forward, determined to figure your way out before whoever it was in here could actually mess with you.
“where are you going pretty girl?” your jaw drops in shock and a sinister chuckle echoes making your skin scatter with goosebumps from the tone of voice you had heard.
maybe if you keep quiet, he won’t be able to find you in this dark lighting. you quickly resume walking up until your speedwalking through the tricky gaze of the mirrors. you have no idea how far you are, but you’re unsure if you’ve even made it halfway through.
suddenly a tall figure in reflecting across the mirrors, dressed in all black with a ghost mask face on his head. you gasp at the sight, thighs clenching instantly. you begin whipping around just to find more of his reflection as he’s not behind you, but he’s somewhere close.
“stop it!” you bite out, your chest heaving. he doesn’t answer and you’re caught in a whirlwind, my body moving in in circles, desperate to figure your way out and away from him.
“you come here alone?” the man asked as his reflection as he resumed walking.
you swallow nervously, “obviously.” you whisper, still searching for where he is. it feels like you shouldn’t have said that.
“no one here to save you.” he teases you, crossing his arms across his chest as he halts his actions.
your eyebrows raised instantly, “why the hell would I need to be saved? are you going to hurt me?” you incredulously asked, getting another chuckle out of the man.
“no,” he instantly replies before his reflection is completely taken away you spin in circles, trying to see if he’s approaching you. you were bound to throw up due to the amount of spinning you had done tonight.
hi figure suddenly comes back to the mirrors, now missing his shirt and your cheeks flushed at the delicious sight surrounding you.
“i’m going to ruin you.” you take a hesitant step backwards, nearly bumping into a mirror and watching him intently.
his image moves, his body walking in a different direction. is he coming closer? it’s too hard to see, the adrenaline in your system rising to dangerous levels kept you on your toes.
he’s scaring you.
“run,” he growls “if i find you, i fuck you.”
And you instantly sprained into action, running with your hands slightly extended, bumping into mirrors as you make your way through the maze. after a few minutes, you’re already out of breath the adrenaline and fear are getting to you. your chest is constricted too tight.
you couldn’t help but be turned on as you realize you’re lost and trapped with a stranger, who’s actively promising something if he catches you. chest pumping you wait for him to find you there’s no chance you can outrun him, as he works here and knows the maze like the back of his hand.
breath suddenly tickles your ear, sending chills down your spine. you clench your eyes shut at the feeling of his hot body pressing into your back. he keeps his hands to himself for now, but you know that won’t last much longer.
“i’ll scream.” you threaten through a broken whisper. you watch in bewilderment as he slowly lifts his hand and takes off his mask. he was painfully gorgeous. longer brunette hair with piercing blue eyes, perfectly plump, pink lips pouting slightly as he stared back at your reflection.
maybe i can scream for different reasons you thought to yourself.
you quickly turn around to get a real look at him, that isn’t a reflection for the first time tonight. he’s instantly leaning forward and capturing your lips between his the second you turned to face him.
you were fighting with yourself, unsure if you really wanted to hook up with this really hot stranger in the middle of a mirror maze. testing the waters, you bite down on his bottom lip, a deep groan swirls through your mouth, urging you to bite harder.
he tastes like cherry soda. you can’t help but let a low moan slip past your lips at the taste, not expecting something so delicious. you slightly start to back away as you realize how crazy this is, and his palm reaches up to wrap around the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair and pulling you impossibly closer.
you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, lost in the taste of him, lost in the weight of his lips on yours. realizing what you’re doing you release his lip from your teeth, and attempt to pull away again.
he doesn’t let you let go and instead sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. he let his teeth painfully nip at your lip, causing you gasp at the sensation, granting him access and allowing him to explore your mouth.
your pussy responds instantly, throbbing from the feel of his tongue. an involuntary moan escapes as his tongue traced yours, and his kiss turns fierce. you’re running out of air so you have to harshly push yourself away from him and stumble back into the mirror behind you, sucking in several deep breaths, your cheeks suddenly trapped between his large hands.
“give me those fucking lips.” he spits before, forcing his tongue back into your mouth. the kiss was so heated you could feel sweat form at your hairline. your hands travel between your bodies, slowly going up his stomach to a firm chest. you roughly push him away, your lips separating with a audible smack.
“stop,” you begged, foggy and confused from the lack of air.
“what did i say?” he demanded harshly, quickly evading your personal space yet again.
“if i catch you, i fuck you.” he repeats slowly as he leans against the mirror behind you looking down on you, “i know you want this, you’ve been watching me all night, baby.” your breath hitches at his words, remembering all the times you had seen him earlier in the day. you had assumed it was several people, as ghost face was a popular character.
your mouth opens, but the words are slow to tumble past your lips, “you aren’t fucking me in here.”
“why not baby? you afraid i’ll fuck you better than you’ve ever had before?” he asked, placing a wet kiss to your neck, making you shudder with pleasure.
with the way he was acting and speaking, you knew you were going to cave soon. this was just out of your realm so you weren’t sure if this is really something you should do.
“i’ll stop if you really want me too, but from the way your body is reacting to me,” he grins down at you, wedging a thigh between your legs and pressing slightly making your hips buck in an desperate need of attention. “you want this more than you think you do.”
you both stand in silence for a few moments before his long fingers latch onto the zipper of your hoodie, slowly pulling it down. the material parting at a painful pace, and the sound of metal teeth separating seems deafening compared to the silence you were just in.
drake said something about you only live once right? fuck it.
“don’t torture me.” you spit out, your anger flashing from his deliberately, slow pace. a wicked smile flashes onto his face at your desperate tone of voice.
“but that’s exactly what I plan to do to you.” he, he replies, goosebumps rise on your skin once again as begins to brought up your shirt, wanting you to take it off, and i’m reminded suddenly that we are not alone.
“someone could come in here.” you whisper, your voice on the verge of cracking.
the man shakes his head briefly, “It’s just us baby you don’t have to worry about it.”
“i don’t even know your name.” you carry on in order to distract him buying yourself time to recollect your thoughts and process what’s about to happen.
“chris.” he replied instantly, his gaze zoned in on the exposed skin of your lower stomach as he lifted the shirt, higher and higher. finally, the shirt is gone and he leans back towards you, letting his hands drift up your stomach and cup your breast.
he squeezes your breast nearly to the point of pain, before he lowered his head to place a soft kiss to your left nipple, “if we had more time, i would fuck these.” he promises before releasing them and moving his hands to the buttons of your jeans.
this is wrong, so very wrong, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop him from unzipping your jeans, or even when he hooked his thumbs on either side and pulling them down
he helps you out of your shoes and then slips the jeans free, leaving you in nothing but your black and orange lacy thong. chris’ eyes light up upon seeing them, tracing the delicate silk before snapping the band against your skin.
“my favorite color is orange.” he mumbles, biting his bottom lip.
“you have to undress too.” you insist, not liking the feeling of being so exposed what he still had his jeans and shoes on. he smirks down at you and jesters for you to have at it. you undressed him slowly wanting to tease him the way he’s been teasing you all night.
you nearly choke on the air when you pulled down his pants and underwear, finally resting your eyes on his hard cock. without a doubt he was bigger than you’d ever had.
he pulls you in for another erratic kiss, full of teeth clashing and spit being exchanged. the energy between you both is as rising, as you both drink from each other, lust and sparks of fire heavy in the air. as your tongues fight for dominance, his hands slip around your waist and lifts you effortlessly. you wrap your legs around his trim waist just as you feel the cool glass press against your back as he had suddenly moved you backwards.
he quickly grasped your thong, effortlessly ripping the thin fabric from your hips shocking you. you detach yourself from his mouth and look at him in shock. e ignores your look and positions the head of his cock at your entrance.
“spread your pussy for me, baby.” he orders you though gritted teeth. you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal see from your core. a deep red flush stains your chest as you spread your legs further apart. his hands tightens on your hips almost painfully, and you can’t help but hope to wake up with fingerprint bruises left to remind you of this night.
you trailed a hand down your stomach, slowly spreading your lips apart, hissing as the gust of air is now penetrating your exposed sex.
“don’t even think of moving your hands.” he threatens, a second before he’s pulling you down on his dick.
you gasp, your free hand flying to his chest so you can push him off, he’s too much stretching you wider than you’d ever been. you whimper from the stretch, the slight burn, as you can feel his girth slide between your fingers as begins to slightly thrust deeper.
“t-too much!” you whine out, your back arching as he inches his way inside of you.
he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing it rapidly making you back arch further as he continues to work himself inside of you. he finally bottoms out and barely gives me any time to adjust, but the pain is morphing into something far more pleasurable and breathtaking. he slides out and pushes in quickly, a low moan rattling through his chest.
your body feels impossibly full, the sensation driving you wild. your a whining mess, clenching down tightly only encouraging chris to move faster.
he pulls out to the tip and then he slams his entire inside of you. here’s no doubt you could see him bulging in your stomach.
“chris!” you screamed, struggling to keep your hand exactly where he wanted it.
“fuck I can barely fucking fit.” he groans and you can’t help but agree. it must be why it feels like you’re getting torn in half.
he braces himself against the mirror, his body is consumed with the pleasure. shockwaves of pleasure scatter throughout your body as he quickens his pace, roughly fucking you against the mirror while loud noises you’ve never made fall from your lips.
the pleasure is blinding in the feeling of him, sliding in and out between your fingers, only helping to build the pit of your stomach begging to be released.
“i want you to watch the way i fuck you.” chris demands, roughly smacking your clit. it takes everything in you to peel your eyes open and sweep them over the mirror’s surrounding you.
several different mirrored images are staring back at you, being able to see the way his ass clenches as he fills you to the brim, his back muscles tensing, and how good his arms look from supporting your weight.
eventually, your eyes find their way back to his face, a sexy smirk placed on his lips. he leans in close, allowing his lips to barely brushing yours, as he watches you slowly come apart at the seams.
“tell me baby, have you ever been fucked this good?”
you bite your lip and shake your head, fighting the urge to close your eyes as the pleasures starting to become too much. he’s not oblivious to this though, as he changes the position, sliding each arm underneath your knees, and hiking them up higher than they were before. he instantly hit that special spot deep inside of you, your legs begin to violently shake.
“oh my god.” you moan out, this time you can’t stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head.
your stomach is tight and you know your orgasm is approaching, and you can’t help but wish this could last even longer than it had.
“you want to come all over my cock baby?” he darkly taunts, bringing a hand down to your clit again and rubbing expertly.
you nod your head frantically, but he wants words.
“say it.” he spits out, slowing his thrusts, knowing that you were so close to falling off that delicious edge
you let out a whine, “please let me come all over your cock.” out speak through gritted teeth, watching a triumphant smirk make its way onto chris’s face. his fast pace resumes, his dick fucking into you faster than before bringing you right back to that edge yet again.
“come for me baby, wanna feel you.” he groans into your ear and that was all you needed to hear for the band in your stomach to finally snap. you screamed his name as you came, your body convulsing and arching into his.
chris responds in his own moans and whimpers as he slams into you one last time painting your insides until it can no longer fit inside of you. you’re catching your breath as you feel your combined juices pour down your thighs as he slowly lowered your legs, slipping out of you.
chris is breathing heavily in front of you, his eyes dark as he watches his cum slip down your thighs, lifting a hand to scoop it up and offer it to you. you let your lips part and he places his fingers on your tongue, and you take the pleasure of swirling them around in your mouth, sucking harshly. he takes a deep breath as he pulls his fingers away.
wordlessly, chris helps you redress yourself minus your thong that he had decided to pocket once he had put his jeans on himself. zipping up your hoodie, you turn to face mirrors to see the damage your face had gone through. your mascara was smeared, your lipstick basically gone, and your lips were puffy from the brutal kissing.
as you’re doing your best to wipe up the mascara, chris comes up behind you and starts to run his fingers through your hair as it had been tangled from rubbing against the glass for so long.
“thank you.” you quietly speak, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
chris grin back at you, “that was really fun.” he replied, coming to stand beside you and lean against the mirror you were staring at.
you hummed agreement, “i hope you’re from here cause i’d really like to do that again.” he continued, surprising you as you figured this was just a one night stand type of thing, but it must not be to him.
quickly you exchange phone number’s and part ways with a dopey smile on your lips as you were slightly limping to go back towards your friends. checking the time you’re shocked to see that it’s an hour past closing, and your friends texted you saying they were waiting in the car.
you quickly make your way out to the parking lot not missing chris, who was standing by the entrance with a few other team members as they were all staring at you as you made your way towards your friends car.
“where the fuck have you been!?” your friend instantly demands the second you open the door and slip into the passenger seat.
you offer a shy smile, “i got lost.”
541 notes · View notes
gabseyoo · 8 months
Text
HELP — SAKUSA KIYOOMI
content: female reader, established relationship, public indecency, car sex, blowjob, handjob, ball sucking. word count: 1,3k.
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“So… are you feeling better?” You asked your boyfriend—who was resting his chin on his palm looking out the car window—after several minutes in silence.
Kiyoomi shook his head and replied without even looking at you, “Give me another minute.” You couldn’t help but giggle, and that apparently didn’t please your grumpy boyfriend. “Stop giggling. This isn’t funny.”
“It absolutely is.” You said with a smile and decided to tease him a little more by poking his arm as you added, “You like me that much, baby?”
“Stop.” Kiyoomi finally turned to see you though still with his elbow leaning against the window. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
The accusation almost makes you burst out laughing, “I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I won’t kiss you anymore if you don’t want me to. But apparently you like my kisses too much for that to even be an option.” You noticed how a chuckle almost escaped his lips before he playfully rolled his eyes and looked back at the window. 
No matter what Kiyoomi said, this was funny.
You were supposed to have a dinner date to celebrate your anniversary, and in fact, you were already parked in the restaurant’s parking lot. 
The thing is that you decided to give your boyfriend a small kiss just before you got out of the car, well, if a ‘small kiss’ means sticking your tongue in his mouth for more than three minutes— but you just couldn’t help it! You were happy and excited for tonight. 
Anyway… the result was that he got hard, and now you’ve been in the car for for who knows how long waiting for him to ‘feel better’. 
Honestly, you found the situation as funny as you found it sexy— your handsome, big, tall boyfriend getting rock hard just because you gave him a kiss. That also had an effect on you, which obviously wasn’t as noticeable as the big bulge in his pants, but you still couldn’t stop those not-so-decent thoughts that had you rubbing your thighs together. And well, it’s not like you have a lot of self-control. 
“I can help you, you know?”
That apparently caught his attention, because he turned to look at you curiously. “Huh?” 
“I can help you feel better.” You said innocently, leaning your elbow on the middle console to rest your chin on your hand. 
Kiyoomi was quick to understand what you meant.
“We’re in a parking lot, baby.” Despite his words and the dim lighting, you could see that hint of excitement in his eyes as he looked around, perhaps analyzing how empty the parking lot was. 
“And? It’s not like we haven’t done this before.” 
“I know, but—” At  that moment he looked back at you and his words got stuck in his throat when he realized that you were already looking at him with those doe eyes you knew he loved and couldn’t resit even if he tried. “Doll, don’t give me that look.” 
“What look?” You tilted your head slightly to one side as if you really had no idea what he was talking about.
Kiyoomi didn’t respond, but his actions spoke for him, maybe it was on purpose, or he did it by reflex, but when his hand that rested on his thigh went to cup his bulge—perhaps in an attempt to soothe himself—it turned you on. Fuck, you wanted his dick in your mouth now. 
“So, Kiyoomi?” Your other hand went over his, forcing him to put a little pressure on his erection that made him moan. “I’ll be quick. After all, judging by the way you look right now—” You leaned close to his ear to whisper, “I don’t think you’ll last long.”
A second later, his lips were on yours, kissing you as desperately as if it was the last time he would ever taste your lips. 
He moved your hand to hastily unbutton his pants and pull them and his boxers down, just enough to release his throbbing erection. Immediately, you wrapped your palm around his dick and began to stroke it up and down slowly before breaking the kiss to see his face and the pleasure reflected on it. 
Kiyoomi tried to maintain eye contact, but when your thumb circled his tip while your other hand moved to fondle his balls, he couldn’t help but close his eyes in pure pleasure. He already seemed to be in heaven, and you hadn’t even used your mouth yet. But that will change soon. 
You lowered your head down until your face was close to his cock and spat on it to lubricate the rest of his length with your palm before taking the tip into your mouth.
Kiyoomi cursed under his breath as you made circles with your tongue, tasting his precum, and without waiting any longer, you slipped the rest into your mouth to start bobbing your head up and down, not taking long to find your rhythm. 
Your hand kept massaging his balls while with the other you kept stimulating what couldn’t fit in your mouth, and you knew that now you had your boyfriend in actual heaven by the moans coming out of his mouth. 
Although many wouldn’t expect it, Kiyoomi was a vocal, and you loved it. That’s why you shoved his entire length down your throat until you gagged, knowing how much he loved that. He sighed your name as he pushed his hips up and his hand settled on your head, holding you there for a few seconds until you couldn’t take it anymore and had to pull away to catch your breath.
Kiyoomi used this moment to recline the seat and spread his legs further apart, “You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” His words were accompanied by his hand caressing your back before moving it down to your ass, where he squeezed the flesh over the fabric tightly before slipping his hand under your dress and doing the same but now with direct contact with your skin. “So fucking perfect, I— fuck!” He couldn’t finish his praise because at that moment you put one of his heavy balls in your mouth, sucking it a little and then doing the same with the other one while you kept pumping him with your hand. 
Kiyoomi threw his head back when you took his length back into your mouth, resuming your previous rhythm. He was practically panting now, completely immersed in the pleasure you were giving him. 
“Baby, I’m going to cum.” He mumbled after a minute, and without resisting any longer, he brought both of his hands to your head to now guide your movements, making you go faster and deeper each time you lowered your head. 
More tears came out of your eyes every time you choked on his cock on every downstroke as you tried your best to breathe through your nose. It was hard, but you managed to hold on until he came in your throat with your name leaving his lips.
You swallowed what you could as Kiyoomi continued to move your head now more slowly until he emptied himself. Seconds later, he released his grip and you licked the cum that had oozed from the edges of your mouth as you sat up straight.
A smile appeared on your face when you saw that he was still panting, trying to recover from his climax. You watched him with lust in your eyes as he pulled up his underwear to cover himself, without even bothering to fasten his pants. 
“Well, problem solved.” You said, breaking the silence and Kiyoomi snorted as he turned to look at you with a smirk. 
“Still want to have dinner?” He asked with a suggestive tone, “Or should we go home?” He added before leaning toward you to kiss you again. Slower, but no less eager. 
“Dinner was the plan, wasn’t it?” You answered playfully, still with your lips on his, and you deepened the kiss a little more before speaking again. “But you know? Now I’m the one who needs to feel better.”
He smiled against your lips, “And I’m more than willing to help.”
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+ note: happy anniversary i guess <3
1K notes · View notes
pitchsidestories · 27 days
Text
underneath your clothes II Cata Coll x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 1687
a/n: based off the cute request here. We're really craving a tattoo on our own now after finishing this oneshot. 😂
You knew tattoos were your passion since you had gotten your first one aged eighteen. So by opening your own tattoo studio with your best friend, you had fullfilled one of your life goals in the last year.
It was not always easy but you loved your job, especially when you could make your clients happy with your artwork. But at the moment, business was slow.
You were focused on wiping down the counter when your best friend and coworker Carla grinned at you: “Your favourite customer is back, y/n.”
Surprised, you looked up and saw someone walk towards the door of your studio: “What? Oh, she‘s not my favourite customer, Cata has been her only once before.”
“She‘s still your favourite.”, Carla shrugged with a smug look on her face.
You grimaced at her: “I don‘t have favourites.” Turning to your customer, you greeted her: “Cata, hi.”
“Hi.”, the goalkeeper smiled at you.
“You‘re here for another tattoo?”, you asked politely.
She nodded: “I am.”
“Do you have something specific in mind?” You noticed her gaze linger on the inked skin of your left arm.
“Uhm, yeah…”, she replied, catching herself and looking back at your face.
You bit back a smile as you thrust your arm in her direction to show her the floral tattoo wraping around your forearm: “Liking this one?”
Catas cheeks reddened: “I do. It‘s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”, you replied. You could feel Carlas eyes on you.
“But I actually wanted to get something for my sister today. Maybe next time.”, Cata explained.
“Oh, that‘s sweet.”
The football player continued while she gestured towards her upper arm: “Yeah, I want it to be on my arm. I was thinking about a wave or something.”
“Is there a meaning behind the wave?”, you asked curiosly while simultaneously trying to picture the perfect tattoo for her.
Cata nodded with excitement: “Yes, we grew up in Mallorca…”
“Thats is adorable. I love when people tell me the meaning of their tattoos.”, you happily replied while getting your sketchbook.
“Ever been to the island?”, Cata asked while she watched you starting to draw different kinds of waves.
Without looking up from your work, you explained: “Actually, yes. My mother was born there and part of her family still lives there so we spend all of the vacations in my childhood there.”
You could hear the astonishment in her voice: “Wait, you did?”
“Yes.”
“That‘s a funny coincidence.”
You slid the sketchbook in Catas direction so she could have a look: “Who knows, maybe we‘ve met each other before without knowing. So which wave do you like best?”
The goalkeeper looked thoughtfully at the drawings in front of her:” I like that one.”
With a dreamy smile on her lips Cata continued: “This is a nice thought actually. That we might have already met before.”
“I agree.”, you responded in a warm tone.
“I’m going to the coffeeshop, would you two like an iced coffee?”, Carla chirmed.
“Sure.”, you nodded.
“Nothing beats iced coffee on a warm spring day.”, the Barcelona player confirmed.
“So true.”, you agreed.
After Carla left the coffeeshop Cata promised you with a wink:” Next time, I’ll bring you an iced coffee before I show up.”
“You want another one already? Don’t you get into trouble for it from your coach or something.”, you raised an eyebrow at her.
Confidently she waved it off: “Oh, no. If it’s done in my free time, he can’t say anything about it.”
“Okay, good.”, you sighed relived.
“Don’t worry. I won’t get in trouble.”, the professional athlete replied.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Also, it’s just a small one.”, Cata reminded you while you were drawing the wave on her skin with a needle.
For a moment you looked up from your work:” Right.”
Meanwhile Carla had returned, bringing the coffees immediately to both of you:” Hey girls, I’m back.”
“Thank you, Carla.”, you answered sincerely.
“You’re welcome.”, she mumbled.
You quickly took a sip from the coffee before asking her:” What do you think of Catas new tattoo.”
After your friend took a closer look at your art piece, she whistled: “Oh, this is nice.”
“It symbolizes my sister.”, Cata explained beaming.
“How cute.”, Carla smirked.
While they talked for a bit you added the finishing touches until the tattoo was done:” Now you’re ready to go, Cata.”
“Thanks. I love it.”, the goalkeeper told you happily.
“My pleasure.”, you said and meant every word whole heartedly.
She stood up excitedly:” I’ll call you soon for a new appointment.”
“Alright.”, you answered.
After Cata has left your best friend declared dramatically:” That poor girl.”
“What?”, you frowned at her.
“Oh please, don’t play dumb.”, Carla begged you groaning.
This was the moment you realized what she has been hinting at:” Don’t worry. Next time, I’ll ask her out.”
Normally you didn’t open to customers like you did with the Barcelona player. Even though it was you who was the person who has seen her upper body without clothes, her dark eyes seemed to have seen right through you.
“You should.”, your friend grinned.
You couldn’t help but to blush as you thought about Cata:” She’s so cute, Carla.”
“I could tell that you thought that.”
Guys! Cata has a crush on her tattoo artist!“, Claudia yelled full of excitement.
The other Barcelona players looked up from their team dinner with varying degrees of curiousity and surprise while Catas cheeks turned red. A minute ago, she had just shown her new tattoo to Claudia and Patri but the youngest midfielder had immediately caught on as she heard the way Cata talked about her tattoo artist.
“Oh, that’s why she’s getting so many tattoos recently!“, Ona exclaimed with laugh.
“That’s not true.“, Cata tried to defend herself.
Mariona just smiled sweetly at her: “That’s so cute, Cata.“
“Guys, stop.“
When Alexia finally spoke up, Cata had hoped that she would call her teammates back to order but instead she just tilted her head: “So, when are you going to see her again?“
“Whenever I get my next tattoo?“, the goalkeeper shrugged.
Patri raised an eyebrow: “And that’s soon?“
“I mean I do have an idea for the next one.“, Cata admitted with a small smile on her lips.
Salma shared a knowing look with Patri: “Guess this means very soon.“
Cata was back at your tattoo studio only a few weeks after her newest tattoo, this time with an iced coffee in hand. You caught yourself smiling subconsciously as you watched the football player walked in.
“Hi Cata.“, you greeted her and gratefully took the drink from her that she handed to you. “Thank you for the coffee.“
Cata smiled as you took a sip: “Told you, I’d bring you one.“
“Appreciate it.“
It was the perfect mix of sweet and bitter. Exactly how you liked it. You set down the coffee on the front desk and thoroughly looked at the goalkeeper: “But you know that you don’t have to get tattoos all the time to ask me out on a date.“
You rolled your eyes with a chuckle.
Cata looked at you dumbfounded: “Wait, what?“
“Cata, would you like to go on a date with me?“, you asked politely.
Her face immediately lit up: “I would love to.“
“Great.“, you said and had to bite back a laugh as Carla pumped her fist in excitement behind Cata.
But the goalkeeper caught your attention again: “When is your shift over?“
“At 5 pm.“, you replied truthfully.
Cata nodded with a big grin on her face: “I’ll pick you up then?“
You nodded happily: “Yes, okay.“
“Perfect.“
Cata left the studio without a tattoo this time but she did leave the feeling of butterflies in your stomach instead.
At exactly 5 pm, Cata waited for you in front of the studio. From what you saw through the window, she looked great in her button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to showcase her tattoos. You could barely wait to close the studio.
When you finally locked the door behind yourself, the two of you awkwardly smiled at each other and you had to admit that Cata looked even better when she was right in front you.
You pointed at the picnic basket she was holding in her right hand: “Where are we going?“
“Just trust me, follow me.”, the goalkeeper replied warmly.
You didn’t know why but you trusted her immediately. Walking along side Cata made you feel safe and welcomed. When you reached the destination, you stood there in awe: “Oh my god, the view is stunning.”
“It’s, right?”, she grinned at you.
Truthfully you told her:” Yes, I love it.”
“I hoped you would.”, the player answered satisfied.
Watching at Barcelona from a distance made your worries surrounding your tattoo studio look small in comparison and you felt lighter in the company of the other woman, so you mouthed into her direction a heartfelt thank you.
“Here’s some food.”, Cata hummed, handing you some antipasti to eat.
Closing your eyes you mumbled:” It’s delicious.”
“Wine?”, she asked you, proving to be the perfect gentlewoman.
“Sure.”, you nodded, as the goalkeeper filled your glasses and you both took a deep sip.
“You know I would have come by to get a million more tattoos just to spend time with you.”, Cata confessed with a wink.
You looked into her eyes amused:” I do, so I had to save you from yourself.”
“That’s sweet. But I still want some more.”, the goalkeeper smirked.
Quickly you promised her:” You can get them one at a time.”
“I will.”
With that said you went forward to kiss her, she gladly replied to the kiss, pulling you closer to her, to fully embrace you in her strong arms.
A few weeks had gone by, and Cata and you were officially girlfriends. You were in the tattoo studio when Carla excitedly exclaimed:” Y/n? Thanks to your girlfriend a lot of her teammates have asked us to do their tattoos!”
Hearing that you hugged your girlfriend gratefully:” Love!”
“You’re welcome.”, Cata whispered.
375 notes · View notes
wosoamazing · 3 months
Text
Emails, Transfer Disputes and Harper
Summary: You get a long awaited email, there are some transfer disputes at camp and you spend time with Harper
Warnings: Some swearing, yelling I guess, angst (I think)
A/N: Plot twist..... maybe, maybe not?
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You were sitting against the back wall of the common room finishing off the last of your schoolwork for the day. When you got an email, not just an email, the email, you opened the email and started reading, not caring that essentially the rest of the team was in the room.
‘Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, blah blah, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, blah blah, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Blah blah blah’
It’s safe to say a wave of relief flooded over you, you had put in this request 6 months ago, your final year of school was looming just 3 weeks away now, and so too were the Olympics in a year, tears started to stream out your eyes, you couldn’t believe it, you didn’t think they would say yes, the request was purely put in to see, no one thought they would say yes, let alone do more.
“What’s wrong” a soft voice said as a small hand was placed on your shoulder, you looked up to see sweet little Harper in front of you.
“These aren’t sad tears Harps, these are happy tears,” you replied to her, pulling her in for a great big hug.
“What’s happening, are you okay Y/N/N?” Steph said as her and Sam walked in totally confused, everyone turned around to see you tears streaming down you face, hugging harper, with a huge smile on your face, they were also totally confused.
“They, they said yes Steph,” “Who did? Wait. No, they said yes! Om my God, I’m so happy for you.”
“Who said yes?” “The education people, she-”
“Read,” you said shoving the computer into Steph’s hands, standing up, now holding Harper, who just pressed her head into the crock of your neck and relaxed, which Mini took a photo of, she had so many photos of you and Harper together, she could fill a stadium with them.
“Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, whatever, whatever, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, whatever, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Whatever, whatever.” Said read the email out loud, her mouth dropped in shock. “Wait, they’re doing more?”
“Yep” you replied emphasising the P.
“Wait this means you are available to be picked for the Olympics now, we need to go to Tony”.
“You do know there is no guarantee you will be picked though right” someone said.
“Uh, have you seen the girl play,” Sam responded.
“She makes the oppositions defence look like a joke; trust me I’ve been on the other side of it” Alanna added.
“Anyway, if I don’t get picked for this team, I have been promised there is a spot for me on another team. I’ll tell Tony tomorrow; I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been told as well though.”
“You know what I loved to see you place against Barca,”
“Well, if you accept Emma’s offer that could hap-” Sam started but you cut her off “Yeah and if I accepted Barca’s offer I could play for Barca.”
“Wait, you’ve got offers from Barca and Chelsea?” Steph asks.
“Yeah, and City, and like basically every other club, can we not talk about this right now?”
“But have you actually thought about this, this is serious,” “Yeah, I’m not an imbecile contrary to what you may think, Arsenal found out and offered more than Barca and Chelsea, but they raised them, I told Arsenal, and they are coming back to me,”
“Wait, Emma raised her offer? She was already offering more than she pays me, that’s insane, and Barca did too, and Arsenal might raise them again.” Sam questions with surprise in her voice.
“Yeah” you say back to her, slightly insulted by how much shock she is in.
“So, you’re staying at Arsenal?” Caitlin askes.
“I don’t know, I have to think about it, talk to my parents about it, have the dreaded conversation with Leah, honestly Leah is probably the reason Arsenal is trying to raise again, if I go, she’ll probably go too. But even if she doesn’t go lets be honest, the team works the way it does and its successful because of the dynamic we have, a very fragile dynamic at that, with any one of us gone, its going to fall down a cliff, which is risky, its risky to stay at Arsenal, Barca might not ever offer this sort of money again, or even worse they might not ever give me an offer again” you pause for a moment before you put Harper on the ground “why don’t you go back to your Mama” she nods and walks back over to Mini, who sends you an apologetic look, she knew why you put Harper down and it shouldn’t have to be that way but it is “Arsenal is the dream team, you are all amazing everyone there is my family, but Barca is also the dream team, playing with the best players day in day out at training, competing against some of the best, a +66 goal difference, I mean how could you not want that, and the fact that they increased their offer after Arsenal raised them that means something, you get an offer at Barca you jump at it you, don’t look at the figure, you don’t question, we all know how it works, you question, you hesitate Barca takes the offer away, and Lucy and Kiera say everyone there is super friendly and lovely and they think I would fit right in.”
“You’ve spoken to Lucy Bronze and Kiera Walsh about Barca? But haven’t mentioned a word about it to anyone at Arsenal, your club”.
“Yeah, it’s not like I owe you guys anything”.
“So, Chelsea isn’t on the cards th-” “No Sam Chelsea isn’t on the cards, Chelsea was never on the fucking cards, it was always going to be Baraca or Arsenal. Why am I letting you all do this to me? It’s my decision. It’s my fucking life! I’m going up” you start to walk away, before you turn around and look at Sam and Steph “and don’t you dare even think to follow me,” and with that your gone.
______
“Shit” Sam said.
“Well, we fucked that one up,” Steph added.
“Yep, you did” Raso replied as she got up.
“Where are you going?”
“To go check on her,”
“But-” “no, that was directed at you two, and also anyone else who said something, I’m neutral territory here”.
The team was left in silence until Steph broke it “Shit, I have our Room key. We were on better terms this morning; we didn’t think she would need her own”.
“I’ll go up, give it here, she probably won’t want to stay in there tonight anyway. She can stay with me. Here Charli take Harper, I’ll be back down for her though”.
____
“Hey kid, are you okay?” Hayley asks you; she seems very hesitant, she didn’t get much else in before Mini came up.
“Rass, I’ve got it from here” Mini said, Hayley got up and left, knowing this was more of a Mini job.
Mini sat down next to you, “No, but are you okay?” she asks while putting an arm around your shoulders, a few tears escape your eyes, which you quickly and aggressively wipe away.
“I-I, I don’t know” you sigh.
“They shouldn’t have done that, they immediately regretted it, but still they shouldn’t have done that, it’s absolutely incredible that, this is happening, they should be happy for you, but I think they let their pride and hurt egos get in the way.”
“I just don’t understand how they can go from talking about how ‘amazing’ I am to then being surprised I got an offer from more than one club, and from big clubs at that.”
“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was a bit caught out, she spends so much time with you and-”
“Yeah, but it’s not like anyone knew, not even Leah”.
“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was truly caught off guard, you talk like Arsenal is your home and then just blurt out you’re thinking about moving, I don’t think she thought you had thought about it.”
“Well, Arsenal is my home, but they say home is where the heart is, and I think if you take out the players my heart isn’t there, and I just feel like things are getting too easy at Arsenal, and I want a change, I’ve been part of arsenal for so long, first through Leah, then the academy and now, I love arsenal, it will always hold a piece of my heart, but I think I need to move, I want to improve, and that’s not going to happen at Arsenal”
“Well, that was easy”.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty certain you’ve made your decision, you just need to tell Leah, and the others. Trust me, once they get over their hurt egos, and feelings of betrayal they will be happy for you, and Leah has already been caught off guard by you once”.
“Yeah okay, where is my number one supporter by the way?”
“Oh she is downstairs with Charli, I thought it was best if I left her down there so we could have an adult conversation, but I have this which you might want.” She hands you your room key, “get the stuff you’ll need for tonight and tomorrow, you can have a sleepover with harper and me tonight, she is going to be so excited.”
“Y/N/N!” Harper exclaims when she walked into her room to find you sitting there.
“Harper” you exclaim back matching her energy, she jumps into your arms, and you throw her into the air and catch her, before jumping onto the bed, “what do you want to do?”
“Ice cream?” you look over to Mini.
“Why not, let’s go”. You Mini and Harper go out to ice-cream together, as you walk past the others in the common room you just ignore them, they all seem to be sitting in an awkward silence.
“Harper, you are all sticky, where are the wipes?” you exclaim as harper smushes her sticky face into you for a hug after she had finished her ice-cream.
“Here,” Mini slides the wipes over to you.
“No don’t, hey come back here,” Mini pulls her phone out to film the two of you, harper is running around the park to get away from you and you’re chasing her with a wipe in either hand.
“Ha, got you,” you say as you grab her, proceeding to wipe her sticky face and hands.
“Park?” “You want to go play in the park?” Harper nods her head, so you take her hand and walk over to the park together, you spent most of the afternoon in the park. You pushed harper on the swings. Unsuccessfully taught her how to pump herself on the swings. You went down the slide, a few too many times. Your afternoon was finished off by teacher harper how to do the monkey bars, which she was very good at – with help of course. Mini sat at the table while you two played, she looked up every now and then to check things were okay, but she seemed to make many phone calls, usually you would ask who it was, but you were having too much fun with harper to care.
_____
“I just won’t have dinner tonight, I’ll be fine,” “No, you will be going to dinner, Tony said he wanted everyone there, especially after what happened today, and no one is allowed to leave until he has spoken to us” you huff “Come on lets go now, you can sit with us, just sit at one of the back tables, you can then sit somewhere so you don’t have to see them,” Mini said as she dragged you up.
“Here take her, go sit, I’ll get food,” Mini says handing Harper to you as you walk into the dining room,  there are only 4 people in there currently not including you three, yet somehow one of the people you really don’t want to see is standing at the food bar. You go and find a seat, Mini comes back, with food. You have finished yours, but Harper hasn’t even touched her diner, she insists you feed her, so that you do, until Mini saw something.
“Um,” “What?” “I’ll message you,” she pulls out her phone, you phone vibrates on the table, and you quickly pick it up to read her message.
Gorry: Steph just walked in, gave Sam a dirty look as she walked past and Sat down at a different table.
Your jaw drops and Mini nods her head, you make questioning eyebrows at her and she just shrugs. You two captains always sat next to each other during mealtimes, or at least at the same table, you were often seen with them too but every now and then you sat with others, trying to expand your social circle. So, the fact that they aren’t sitting together is very odd.
After everyone had basically finished their dinner Tony got up, and started to talk, “Girls, I would just like to say the behaviour today was unacceptable, and I am extremely ashamed at the actions of our captains and older teammates, if anything it was our youngest teammate who showed the most maturity by walking away. Please know that if this sort of behaviour ever happens again on camp there will be punishment, and I’m not just talking laps. Steph and Sam can I talk to you outside please, the rest of you are free to enjoy your night.”
“I can’t believe I am having to do this girl, and I still can’t believe I saw what I saw this afternoon.” Tony starts yelling at your captains not realising the door hasn’t shut completely.
“Wait what happened? Why am I not getting in trouble, he wasn’t there was he?” you ask Mini.
“I don’t know, and no he wasn’t”.
“Oh boy did you two miss something, it was kind of good you left when you did,” Macca started.
“Yeah so basically once you had gotten harper and left, Steph finally broke the really awkward silence and asked Sam why she reacted the way she did when you said Arsenal raised and then Barca and Chelsea did again, and Sam was like ‘She is only sixteen and getting paid more than me, and I’m assuming you too’, which to be honest was a low blow, like she just attacked Steph there but anyway, Steph then said ‘Well, yeah she is fucking good’, and Sam replied ‘oh course you would say that,’ Steph asked her what she meant and she was like ‘oh well she’s your little mini me, always with you, always coming to you for help, and you always drop everything to help her, you act as if she is the sun and we all revolve around her’ which obviously Steph was taken aback by and was like ‘Oh, so now I’m the bad guy for not only fulfilling my captain duties but being a nice person, you know Sam we are meant to be approachable and help our teammates especially the younger ones, and of course she comes to me for help, she’s a kid, like we joke Kyra and Charli and all that are kids but she is actually a kid, you have to take more care with her, help her more, help her understand. Just because your ego is hurt at the fact that a 16-year-old is going to get paid more than you and you don’t know how to feel because a 16-year-old is better than you doesn’t mean you can take it out on me, and you are blind if you actually were surprised that Barca and Chelsea raised their offers again, she is incredible, will be the player of her generation,’ and then Sam just scoffed and was like ‘whatever you suck up’ and then Tony walked in and got super mad and send us all to different rooms and stuff” Hayley gives you both a brief recount of the day.
“Yeah, you really did miss a lot,”
“Yeah, it seems we did,”
“But wait Steph was protecting me, I thought she was having a go at me? I think I was just so mad at Sam; I kept it going”.
“Yeah no, originally I don’t know if she was having a go or just questioning but after you left, she really did confront Sam and I mean Sam was in the wrong, Steph could’ve just dealt with it in a better way.”
_____
“I think someone is tired, should we head up?” you say, after Harper yawns, looking at Mini for confirmation who nods, you pick harper up and rest her on your hip, she puts her head on your shoulders and her eyes start to droop. Once you arrive to your room you get dressed into your Pjs and so does Harper, you both already have had your showers for the day.
A phone vibrates and look over to mini, “that was you”, so you pick up your phone to see a message from Steph.
Steph: Hey can we talk? I understand if you don’t want too.
You: Hey um yeah but it’s easier if we message, Harper has fallen asleep on top of me.
Steph: Yeah, no that’s fine, I don’t know if I’m allowed to come out of our room anyway and if you even allowed to come in.
You: Oh
Steph: But I just wanted to say sorry for what happened this afternoon, I was out of line, and I just want to apologise, I am really sorry.
You: For what happened when I was there or what you said to Sam?
You: But in all honesty, it’s okay, I was getting defensive at Sam and snapped at you when you didn’t deserve it you were just questioning. But also thank you for stepping up and confronting Sam for me even if it got you in trouble.
Steph: Wait who told you about that?
Steph: But I was just telling her the truth and really, I should’ve stopped her earlier, it shouldn’t have gotten to the point that you had to walk away.
You: It’s okay Steph, I promise I forgive you but maybe not Sam, at least not yet. She was mean to both of us.
Steph: Okay, I will make it up to you I promise.
You: Hmmm, I will think about what I want…..
Steph: I never said I would by you anything, maybe I was just going to be nice, get you out of fitness testing
You: Hey no, that isn’t nice, I looove fitness testing
Steph: Weirdo
You: Hey
You: Love you heaps, good night (well not for you but for me), see you tomorrow, I can’t wait to see you! I have so much to tell you.
You: Shit that was meant for Leah not you
You: But love you anyway, see you in the morning.
Steph: Love you, sorry again, night night
_____
You were standing at the breakfast bar contemplating your morning meal like you were contemplating life when you saw Steph walk in, you immediate walked over to her and hugged her, in which she returned wrapping her arms around you tightly as if to never let go, you could really sense her guilt, you stayed like that for at least a minute and only pulled away because Sam wanted to talk to you.
“Hey, I’m sorry for yesterday, I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m really sorry” she said very awkwardly.
“Okay, thank you.” You say bluntly before walking away.
“What so she is hugging you, but I don’t even get an I forgive you?”
“Well, she doesn’t like lying and I don’t think she does forgive you yet,” Steph said before walking away and following you.
430 notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 3 months
Text
TOUR (part two)
read part one here
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x reader (definition of a titty man)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you surprise your boyfriend at his last show of the versus tour. you obviously had to wear the dress to it, but too bad matt has to wait until the show is over to do what he’s been wanting to do for a month.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT but fluffy, swearing, titty fucking, p in v
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,245
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: you guys are the literal best omg.
idk how i feel about this one but i do have a shit ton in the works that i can’t wait to share😇
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the flight from LA to ft. lauderdale was close to five hours, and you were jet lagged.
especially since you had to take a late flight which didn’t help either.
now, you’re sitting in the uber that picked you up from the airport and texting nick.
it was his idea to have you fly out and surprise matt since everybody else is going to be there. chris knows too, and since he’s a blabber mouth at best, you specifically told him if he tells matt your secret you’ll cut his dick off.
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by some miracle, nick and chris successfully snuck you to your room.
you didn’t bother unpacking your suitcase. instead, you kicked off your shoes and knocked out with your clothes still on.
it took a few knocks at the door to realize you weren’t dreaming them to fully wake you up. you groan, rubbing your eyes and shuffling to the door. “y/n! wakey, wakey.”
you open it, revealing a smiling nick with a brown bag in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. he holds them up in front of you.
“i got you food and your favorite iced coffee from dunkin’.” he says. “i can’t stay long because we’re heading to the venue soon, and you have to get fueled up. i know how jet lag can be.”
“thank you, nick,” you reply graciously, grabbing the things from his hands.
“i’ll send you the address and all that.” he tells you, turning 180° before spinning back to face you again. “also, you better have brought something stunning to wear. matt might actually faint from all the surprises you’ll be throwing at him all at once.”
he winks at you before going into the elevator to meet the others.
of course, you brought something stunning to wear. looking in the mirror, you’re wearing a navy blue dress. it’s the navy blue dress you were wearing in the photos matt jerked off to when you guys were on the phone.
you walk into the hidden door that leads backstage. the boys were there plus nate and justin. nobody noticed you yet, and you wanted to keep it that way.
you heard matt talking to nate about how he’ll be his teammate, but the conversation mostly consisted of nate giving a lecture about how to not fuck up jenga.
you cross your arms and lean against the doorway. “maybe if you didn’t yank the jenga blocks out, the tower would stay up.”
their voices die down in milliseconds and turn to face you.
“what the fuck?” matt questions blankly. it seems like he’s trying to comprehend if he’s hallucinating or if you’re really here in ft. lauderdale standing in front of him.
when it clicks in his head that you’re indeed not a hallucination, he comes running over to you and engulfs you in a big hug.
he lifts you from the floor and holds on even tighter, not caring about the other people in the room.
to him, this moment is just about you.
“you’re not being slick, you know.” he whispers in your ear.
“what do you mean?” you reply in the same tone innocently, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.
he doesn’t respond and puts you back on the ground. he glances up and down your body, before chris speaks up. “hate to break up this reunion, but we got small talk in like five minutes.”
matt has you underneath him flat on your back, the tour bus bunk is a little too small for the both of you.
your legs are wrapped around his torso as his lips hungrily kiss yours. the show ended an hour or two ago, and when everybody got settled into their hotel rooms, he snuck you on the tour bus.
his hands rub around your boobs and give a light squeeze, pulling his lips away from yours with a hum.
“remember when i said i wanted to fuck your tits?” he asks with his swollen red lips, not taking his eyes off of you as he starts to unbuckle his belt.
you lick your lips and nod.
“i wasn’t kidding.”
he yanks down his undergarments and pumps himself a few times to get fully hard. he takes the neckline of your dress and pulls it down to expose your breasts.
he groans at the site, fiddling them before adjusting himself so his tip is right under your boobs.
he pushes them together and slides in between them, throwing his head back and moaning. “oh, fuck.”
unlike the rest of your body, they are warm and cushioning, causing matt’s dick to throb at the feeling.
he doesn’t waste time and starts thrusting. the tip of him glides at your bottom lip with each thrust. all you do is stare at his acts, which is using your tits to get off.
the more he pleasures himself, the more you feel your arousal start to soak your underwear. without thinking, you open your mouth a little so your tongue kitty licks his tip each time he thrusts up.
he groans, looking at you through hooded eyes. “shit. keep doing that, baby.”
his thrusts starts to get sloppy, his hips jutting from time to time. “open wider. good girl.”
with that, he shoots his load on your lips and into your mouth. he uses his finger on your chin to make you close your mouth, tasting him as you swallow. he kisses your neck and collarbone, tracing his fingers on the hem of your panties before pulling them down.
he uses his thumbs to spread you open, seeing how soaked you are.
you whine, balling your hands on the front of his shirt. “matt, please.”
he kisses your cheek before putting his entire length inside of you, your slippery cunt making him have easy access.
you moan as he starts moving in and out. this time around, his thrusts aren’t hard and fast. instead, they’re slow and deep.
he doesn’t pull out all the way — maybe only an inch or two — to make his thrusts even deeper. your tits bounce slowly with his rhythm, and he never takes his eyes off of them.
eyes squeezed shut, you’re letting out short moans and whimpers, ecstasy flowing through your whole body.
fucking matt was phenomenal, but slow sex with him felt different. it felt more real and comforting; feeling safe in his touch.
“you’re so deep.” you exhale, the knot in your stomach starting to form.
matt’s head falls to the crook of your neck. “you’re taking me so well, baby. so, so well.”
his words cause your legs to shake at his sides, squirming from underneath him as you cum slowly around his dick.
he kisses your lips passionately as he pulls out, putting the last of his orgasm onto your stomach.
he falls softly on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “you’re so much better than a stupid trophy.”
you laugh at matt’s saltiness because of his loss at jenga. “this mother fucker gave me the lecture about how to play jenga when he’s the one who knocked it down.” he continues to complain.
“jenga’s a stupid game, anyway.”
he looks up at you. “thank you.”
you laugh again, the both of you laying there and enjoying each other’s company. matt listened to your heartbeat, and you played with his hair softly, thinking about how much you missed your boy and nothing else.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @mattslolita
816 notes · View notes
becomingmina · 3 months
Text
Mad - fluff and slightest suggestive w/Changbin. 18+ only mdni.
Mad series is here 🤍
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“Princess!” Changbin brightly greets you as he hops out of his car to help you drag your drunk best friend who is also Han’s girlfriend inside his back seat.
“Hi Binnie. Hi Han,” you shoot them a small smile. “Sorry she drank so much. We couldn’t stop her,” you say timidly standing back now that the two boys got her.
“That’s okay Y/N, thanks for looking out for her,” Han smiles at you before he getting in the car with his girlfriend.
“Did you enjoy your night?” Changbin asked with a smile, pulling you by both your arms into a tight hug.
You hum in respond, hugging him back tightly, feeling guilty.
Changbin had told you at the start of the week that he was finishing up a song and needed some time to perfect it, so you decided it’ll be best to give him some space to do so.
Although you know how much he would miss you, you also know how bad he was at multitasking. A simple “how are you” text will instantly turn to him calling you up and asking you to come over. You have learnt from the past that that’s not the way to go. You rememeber him rushing the last 2 days to fix up his song and boy, was he a mess.
For the week you had sent him only good morning and night messages, with some little I love you thrown in during his winding down time. The lack of interaction with him made you confide in your friends for a little bit of comfort. So when Han’s girlfriend messaged you to go drinking and clubbing with other girlfriends you were quick to say yes.
The night started off great. You and all the girls probably had about 4 shots and a couple of drinks each making everyone tipsy. But you were nearly at the end of your limit though, you could barely steady yourself on the dance floor.
It was midnight when you feel your phone buzzing inside your bag. You pull out your phone and could barely read the caller ID with your blurred vision. When you finally saw it was your boyfriend calling your face instantly lights up.
“You coming over yet Princess?” Changbin cheerfully asks on the other line. The club music was way too loud that you had to excuse yourself from the circle to run to the secluded bathroom to talk.
“Sorry Binnie, what did you say?” You asked and you hear him softly chuckle back.
“I said are you coming over yet?” He repeats himself.
“For?” You slurred on your words, confused at what he was asking.
“It’s our date night, silly,” Changbin giggly replies and instantly you froze.
You had forgotten it was the last Friday of the month and which means it was your designated date night with Changbin. It doesn’t matter what time he gets off work on the last Friday, you would spend your afternoon at his house anyways so you were able to get ready for what ever he had planned. You gasp, putting him on speaker as you search through your phone to visually confirm the date. It was already 12:03 Saturday. You had forgotten. You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself for this mistake.
“Did you forget?” He asks when hears you struggle on the other side.
“YES!!” You say, a hand coming to hit your temple. “I FORGOT I’M SO SORRY,” you cried, squatting on the bathroom floor, trying you best to calm yourself down.
He must’ve been so confused patiently waiting at home for you to come over the whole day.
“I’ll come home now, I’m sorry.”
“No! That’s okay princess, are you out with the girls?” He asked, his voice was still so soft.
“Yeah.. I.. I—” you scrambled to apologise but he doesn’t let you.
“Dont worry Princess. Go and enjoy your night with the girls. Call me when you want to come home and I’ll get you,” he giggles.
That’s one thing you can never understands about Changbin, he never gets mad or show a little bit of annoyance with you, even when you’re in the wrong. He never lets you take the blame for anything.
“I feel bad.”
“Don’t, you silly girl. We’ll talk later.”
“Okay,” you puffed with a pout and he giggles.
“Love you!” He shouted before hanging up.
How could you forget such an important day. You glance at your phone and realised he had send you a couple of messages throughout the night asking when you’ll be over and you hadn’t reply.
“Oh shit!” You quietly beat yourself up again.
The rest of the night you didn’t take anymore drinks and sobered up quickly. Although you still enjoyed the rest of the night with your girlfriends, your boyfriend was on your mind alot of the times.
“Come on, let’s go before she throws up,” Changbin says pulling you both into the car.
The ride home was just Han’s girlfriend drunk whining that she wanted to throw up so you really couldn’t bring yourself to talk to Changbin as your attention was on your friend’s well being.
“You reckon you’ll be okay Ji? Me and Y/N want to go on a drive,” Changbin says looking in his rear view mirror at younger boy. You glance to your side where your boyfriend was sitting, confused, because you never stated you wanted to go for a drive.
“I’ll be okay hyung, she’s just all talk. She’s probably gonna sleep like a baby once she’s get home,” Han giggles, assuring you both.
After dropping them off, Changbin drove around for a bit, sitting with you in silence. He keeps glancing to your side but looks away the second you look up at him. Once he reached the secluded lookout you guys always go to, he parks the car and reaches for your hand.
“Why are you not mad, Bin?” You nervously ask, breaking the silence.
“Why would I be?” He replies back with a smile caressing your hand.
“Tonight was suppose to be our date night and I ditched it to go clubbing,” you say unable to look at him.
“Well, we are on a date right now aren’t we?” He replies, the smirk is still on his face.
“At 2am.”
“So?”
“Im sorry—”
“Don’t. Don’t feel bad, don’t apologise,”
“But you never get mad at me,” you voiced out your concern with him being so lenient.
“You forgot. You’ve been so cute all week giving me space to finish my song. We didn’t talk all week so you just forgot. It’s not like you planned to ditch me,” his hand comes to cup your cheeks as he looks deep into your eyes, waiting for your reply.
“Right?” He says sounding a bit more serious as you don’t answer him. You giggle in response shaking your head.
He’s right though. You just forgot due to the lack of conversation you guys had all week.
“You okay now?” He leans in to peck the corner of your lips.
“Yes,” you reply, smiling at his kiss.
“Also, you look very sexy though Princess,” he smirked eyeing you up and down. “I couldn’t stop staring at you when I was driving,” he says glancing at the hem of your dress that was riding up your thighs.
“Is the dress new?” You can tell he was still trying to get you to forget about what happened.
“I got it last week,” you reply to him, neatly smoothing over the material by your thighs.
“It’s very sexy. Can I see it up close?” He raises his eyebrow and you giggle knowing what he was referring to. So you climb over the car to straddle him, your dress instantly riding up.
You loved date night.
419 notes · View notes
badasmuse · 5 months
Text
“Homewrecker”
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Bada Lee x Reader
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), lowercase intended, language, cheater!bada, bottom!bada, bada is married to h*wl, bada has a daughter, top!reader, lonely bada, she also cries, appearance from itzy’s yuna
Summary: bada is lonely, you fix that.
Part 2 Here
you absolutely loved children. ever since you were fifteen when you started babysitting for your neighbor that’s when you knew. you actually wanted to start your own daycare but you wanted a degree so you decided to take a few online classes in early childhood education. but, going to college meant you need money for books and such so you never stopped babysitting. but your usual child’s father came back into her life making you jobless once again, so when you received a text from an unknown number stating she got your number from her friend you jumped with joy. and that’s how you started working for bada lee and her husband.
on your first day, you pull up to the extremely big house, you’re nervous. you keep thinking, what if i lose this kid in this big ass house.
there’s a tall woman and a slightly shorter male standing in the doorway holding a little girl. she looks about seven. you step out of the uber and approach the little family. “hi i’m y/n. i’m looking for ms. lee?”
“that’s me.” she steps out shaking your hand. “you can call me bada. this is my husband howl, not his real name but as a dancer it’s just what he goes by, and our daughter chaeyoung. come in.”
you follow the woman in and dude when i tell you this house is huge. you could probably fit three semi trailers stacked on top of each other in here. with the wheels still on and everything. you’re too busy admiring the house to hear what bada is saying.
“got that y/n?” is all you hear.
“huh? oh i’m… im sorry i was admiring your house i didn’t hear a thing. could you… repeat that?” you say shyly.
“oh no problem. this is a list of people you can call if you can’t get in touch with either of us. always try lusher first she’s my best friend she’ll always be able to get ahold of me. i’ll be out at the studio a lot this month because i’m choreographing a few comebacks and howl is getting ready to go to japan to teach some classes. i will be back around nine tonight. here’s chae’s bedtime routine. she’ll try to stay up past eight thirty, if she fights let her because she’ll fall asleep in the next five minutes. you can just lay a blanket over her on the couch and i’ll carry her to the room when i come back. is that too much at one time?” bada asks after literally vomiting a shit ton of information.
“no no i think i got it all. also, if you’re gonna be dancing, i don’t mind carrying her to her room. you’ll be tired and probably want to shower, i can handle it.” you say smiling.
“if you can i’d appreciate it. oh we have to go. chae you be good for y/n okay? i mean it.” bada says crouching in front of the girl who just nods in response before hugging her mother tight and hugging her father’s leg.
soon, it’s just you and her. boy did she give you a run for your money. you did lose her in the house while playing hide n seek. she made you play dress up with her. she took your phone and hid it, spilled apple juice everywhere, and even went into her parent’s room and took one of her mom’s lipsticks.
by now it’s eight thirty and she surprisingly went to bed without an issue, which you were grateful for because now you have to clean the mess in the kitchen and living room.
“hi i’m home.. y/n?” you hear bada say.
“kitchen!” you respond.
“what.. happened?”
“oh she spilled apple juice. this- here. she took this from your room. um, do you mind calling my phone?” you mumble.
bada sighs and goes into a room before coming out with your phone in hand. “i’m sorry she did this to the last babysitter, and the one before. if you don’t want to continue just let me know okay?” she says helping you clean the apple juice.
you look up at her and see the sweat dripping down her face, the tired look in her eyes. she’s obviously struggling. “what time should i be here tomorrow?”
her eyes light up and she smiles brightly. “um, same time okay? it’ll just be me and her, my husband will be gone early.”
“i’ll be here. go shower. i’ll finish up and make my way out of here.” you pick up the used paper towel, throwing it in the garbage.
thirty minutes later she emerges from the bathroom dressed in a new pair of sweats and a tank with her wet hair flowing down her back.
“i’ll get your uber home. can you put your address in here?”
*
now it’s been four months and man, the feelings you feel towards this woman are crazy.
“she’s just so.. fine, yuna.” you say to your best friend. “when she comes home from the studio and she’s dripping with sweat. you know how hard it is to not jump on her?”
yuna laughs, “isn’t she married?”
“yes but… come on. her husband is never really there. she’s always tired and probably sexually frustrated. i could fix that for her for real.” you say taking the drink from her.
“that’s mine.” she sighs, “well are you gonna go for it?”
“i don’t know, should i? what if i get fired?” you say.
“then you get fired. come on i’ll drop you off. it’s almost time.”
once you arrive at the house, you knock and wait, watching yuna pull off. bada opens the door and looks at you surprised. “y/n? what are you doing here?”
you blink, “it’s.. saturday?”
“oh! oh i’m so sorry. first come in.” she steps to the side, “i’m sorry, chaeyoung is with her grandmother for today. i thought i told you. probably forgot i was doing so much this morning. i feel so bad you probably ubered here, let me pay you for that and i’ll get you one back.”
“my friend dropped me off. i can ask her to come get me.” you say sending a quick text to yuna.
“well have you eaten? let me get you something.” she says.
“i’m okay i’m not hungry.” at least, not for food.
“well.. here’s a water bottle. i’m so sorry.”
“it’s okay bada. my schedule is open.” you look at the reply from yuna and sigh. “actually could you get the uber? my friend is busy, she won’t be able to come get me for at least an hour or so.. unless you don’t mind me waiting?”
“i don’t mind. i actually wanted to talk to you about chaeyoung.” she says sitting next to you.
“what is it?”
“i’m not too sure what you’re doing but.. she used to be terrible in school, behavior wise, and ever since you came along it’s changed. what are you doing with her? what can i do to make sure she doesn’t act that way once you get your degree and stop working for me?” bada sighs, leaning back on the couch.
“bada,” you turn your body to face her, “the issue with chae is you don’t give her enough attention. i know both you and howl work a lot. it happens. but she tells me all the time how she wishes at least you were here more often. she’s lonely. it’s only her and you stick her with a bunch of strangers. she told me she feels happy when i’m here because even tho i’m leaving, i still make her happy because i’m giving her the attention she craves.”
bada wipes a tear from her cheek, “i try. it’s just hard. i want to be here. then howl took that stupid job traveling to different countries like he doesn’t have a wife and child at home. i feel like i’ve been snapping at her which is why i sent her with her grandmother. i wanted to.. be with my husband and he’s not even here he went to america. i wanted to talk to him about this.”
you pull bada in for a hug and rub her back as she cries into your shoulder. “you’re doing the best you can, bada. you can’t be too hard on yourself. howl should’ve thought about that before he left. he needs to understand you need help.” you say softly.
bada pulls back and looks at you, “you really think i’m doing my best?”
“i do.”
there’s a tension filled silence as you look at each other. you don’t know what fueled you but you lean in and kiss her on her lips before pulling back quickly. “oh shit i’m sorry you’re married-“
she cuts you off with another kiss gripping your shirt. this one is a lot more desperate. “please…” she mumbles against your lips. “i need this please.. please don’t go.” she whines.
“your room.” you say and she stands up pulling you into the bedroom she shared with howl.
she pushes you on the bed and climbs on top of you finding your lips again as your hands trail under her shirt. you pull it off her and she whines.
“relax baby, i’ll make you feel good, just be patient.” you turn her on her back kissing her neck and down to her chest. lifting up her bra you attach to her nipple, sucking gently and she moans. you pinch the other one with your fingers and her hips buck up against you, looking for friction.
“keep your hips down.” you whisper, kissing down her stomach. you leave marks on her hip bones and she moans your name.
“y/n please… please i want you so bad!” she writhes on the bed.
you pull her shorts off and she’s not wearing anything under them. “made this easy for me huh? oh you’re so wet for me bada.” you run a finger over her clit and her leg jerks. you put her leg on your shoulder and make eye contact with her. “can i?”
“please y/n please do- OH!” she moans out when your tongue makes contact with her clit. her hands clutch the sheets as you suck on her clit, sticking two fingers in her.
her breath hitches and she lets out loud moans, “oh my god s-so good! please more!”
you insert another finger curling them up into her spot. she lets out a squeal. “why are you so good at this?” she moans, hands going to your hair as she fucks herself onto your fingers. “i’m cumming!”
you speed up your fingers, flicking your tongue skillfully and she cums with a scream, your name falling off her lips.
you pull your hand out giving her a minute to breathe. “you okay?” you run her lower stomach gently.
“i need… more. please? i have.. have toys in my sock drawer.” she pants.
you walk over to where she points and find a different array of toys. “oh you’re kinky.”
“please use whatever you want. make me your slut. please.” she whines.
you bite your lip, grabbing the dildo, a vibrator, and some handcuffs. “you mind?”
“oh please!” she moves her hands to the headboard, letting you cuff her to it. “i-i can eat you out while you fuck me. you can sit on my face.”
you shiver at the thought before stripping and doing what she wants. her tongue skillfully explores you and you question how she let a man trap her with a tongue like that? you lean forward and put the dildo in her, immediately thrusting it in and out of her while putting the vibrator on her swollen clit. she moans into you and pulls at the cuffs. you’re worried she might be uncomfortable so you lift up but she whines loudly. “i’m not finished!”
you sit back down, thrusting the toy faster and turning up the speed on the vibrator. you let out a moan trying not to grind on her face. you move when she starts to mumble something.
“what did you say baby?”
“use me. use me to get yourself off. make me your personal tuck toy.” she moans out.
you moan as you move back onto her face doing as she asks all while you fuck into her tight count with the dildo. you’re close and you know she’s close from the way her moans get higher. she latches onto your clit sucking roughly as you pound the dildo into her gspot and you’re both cumming with loud moans. you remove the toys and she squirts all over her bed. you get off her and rub her clit, helping her ride out her high.
“okay! okay i’m done i can't…i’m done please!” she moans pulling the cuffs.
“give me one more. let me make sure you’re 100% satisfied. you might not get it this good for a while.” you whisper.
she whimpers and cums one last time, her juices flow out of her and you caress her thigh gently.
“so good for me bada. did such a good job.” you uncuff her and she pulls you in for a kiss. you can taste yourself on her tongue.
“thank you.” she whispers. “i needed that. god i needed that.. tell your friend nevermind. stay with me.”
“what about your husband? and chae?” you ask.
“he’s gone for a week, chae will be back tomorrow night. after i take a nap i want to go again.” she groans, turning on her side.
grabbing your phone, you tell yuna to just bring your backpack that has your strap instead and you lay down next to bada. she immediately moves her head onto your chest and sighs, falling asleep.
that was a lot easier than you thought it would be.
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twinkwish · 6 months
Text
Too Cocky
“See you tonight, Jacob?” Brad asked his friend in the locker room, about to leave after practice.
“For sure, bro. I just gotta shower real quick and I’ll be there.” After their big win, the team had planned to celebrate with a bar crawl.
“Awesome, don't take too long, bro!” joked Brad. 
Jacob was always the last person in the locker room after games. He was the star of the team—talented, big, handsome—which meant he was highly complimented. Jacob loved nothing more than to walk around the locker room to the adoration of his teammates, flexing and showing off his godlike stature to earn their praise and remarks. 
With Brad out the door, Jacob finally went to take his shower. He stopped in front of the mirrors in front of the sinks lining the outside wall and began to put on a show for himself—he rarely passed up such an opportunity.
“Yeah, man. I always get such a good pump after a game,” he said to himself as he lifted his arms into a double bicep pose. He certainly had a body to be proud of. At 6’3” and 215 pounds of solid muscle, he was one of the biggest on the team. And with long blond hair and a chiseled jaw line, he was looker for sure. “Imagine what that team would be without me.”
After posing a bit longer, he walked over to the showers and undressed. He turned on the water and looked down at his beautiful cock. “Yeah, I’m definitely the biggest on the team.”
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“Maybe,” commented a voice from behind.
“What the fuck!? Who’s there!?” cried Jacob, swinging himself around. 
“No one important. Just an admirer,” responded Brad.
“Oh, hey man. You freaked me out there. I thought you left.”
“I did, but I forgot my bag. When I came back, I heard you in here and thought I would see what you were up to. You put on a good show, stud.”
“You liked that, bro. You like seeing this?” he gestured to himself. “I wouldn't have pegged you for a fairy. I mean, I guess I don’t blame you.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for one,” said Brad with a sly smile.
At that moment, Jacob began to look at Brad in a way he hadn't before. Brad was also pretty built, standing around 6’1” on a muscular frame of around 190 pounds with a big powerful chest. Jacob gulped.
“I think I’ll join you,” added Brad. “I was going to shower at home, but might as well do it here.”
Jacob remained frozen as he stared at Brad’s tree trunk legs sliding out of his pants. He nearly drooled when Brad’s biceps squeezed as he slowly removed his tight t-shirt.
“Woah, dude,” he said finally. “You’re lookin’ swole.” He was surprised at himself. It wasn’t like him to compliment others.
“Oh yeah?” Brad answered, bouncing his pecs slightly. “I have been doing some extra training with coach.”
“It’s been payin’ off, bro. Your pecs are huge.” Again, he was surprised. His mouth hung open as his eyes hungrily studied Brad’s godlike torso. Is dick twitched a bit.
“Feel them.”
And with that, Jacob rushed eagerly over to Brad and began to submissively worship his chest, in complete admiration of the size—the power. “What is happening?” he thought to himself. “My chest bigger. I am the strongest guy on the team.” But he strangely didn’t believe that. 
Smiling that sly smile, Brad responded by flexing. Breathing deeply, he taunted, “That’s right, bitch. You just can’t get enough of me. You wish you could look like this, to feel as big and powerful as me.”
At that moment, Jakob became aware of a strange sensation. It was as if he was shrinking. He looked up at Brad, who looked taller and taller in comparison as Jakeb shrank down to 5’7”. He stepped back for a moment to see his once bulging biceps contracting. His defined, prominent chest lowered and nearly flattened out. His formerly thick thighs became much more lithe as his ass began to expand with a mixture of fat and muscle. Simultaneously, his mind was drained of all knowledge of sports and chicks while an intense focus and obsession with the hunk before him replaced it. After only a second, Jake practically leapt back towards the muscle jock, burying his head in Brad’s armpit while the jock moaned.
Brad was going through his own transformation. His joints cracked slightly as he grew a few inches taller and his feet expanded into giant size 15s. His already beefy muscles expanded even more, veins popping out of his arms as he hit a double bicep pose. “Fuck yeah, you little fairy,” Brad moaned through heavy breaths and deep grunts. “Worship a real man.”
With that, Brad pushed the twink to his knees.  Jake, excited and eager, began to suck Brad’s growing cock. 
“Take it all, slut!” he roared in a deep voice, his giant hand gripping the top of Jake’s platinum blond head while his 8” python grew in his mouth. With his other hand, Brad felt his new engorged muscles, running his fingers up his chiseled abs before groping his pecs.. “MmmmMmmM.”
Jake could only moan slightly as his mind focused on Brad’s amazing dick. The twink’s now thick, seductive lips smacked and sucked as his tongue worked its magic. His mind was filled with images of pleasuring men. Being used as a vessel, a little fucktoy. As he deep throated the expanding rod, the muscle god’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy. 
“Shit!” Brad yelled. He began to grunt, bucking his pelvis as his load exploded into the face of the submissive twink, who swallowed it in turn.
“Yaaassss, Brad!” Jake squealed in his newly high voice as he pulled away from the muscle god’s pelvis. “That was, like, so hot.”
“Huh,” he laughed. “What did you expect? That’s what you get from a body like this.”
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“Mmm. Love it, stud. Hehehe. Come on, big boy. Let’s, like, go out to the bars. You can, like, use me to make the rest of the team, like, jealous.”
“We’ll catch up with them later. First I have plans for you at home,” Brad responded as he grabbed Jake’s juicy bubble butt.
They both liked the sound of those plans.
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lemonlover1110 · 9 months
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 9] Tantrum
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
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You’ve known Satoru ever since you were five years old, and yet you’ve never realized just how spoiled and entitled he is. Sure, you knew that his parents would buy just about anything he wanted and he never had to face any consequences but you never really notice. Nor did you care. Not until he’s right in front of you, in front of your desk, and he tells you,
“You’re fired.”
It catches you off guard. You’re completely confused, and you don’t gather your thoughts in time. When you’re about to question what he means, he’s locked in his office. You knock on the door, and when there’s no response, you knock much harsher. He ends up opening the door, a brow raised as he asks, “Did you not hear me?”
“You can’t fire me.” You tell him, and he hums as he pretends to think about it. You’re about to call his mother to tell her about the situation, but Satoru slams the door shut which startles you.
“I want you to pack your shit up and leave this building, you’re fired.” Satoru says. You’re opening and closing your mouth, trying to think of what to say. A comprehensible sentence isn’t forming in your head. “You’re not doing your job properly.”
“I’m not doing my job properly? Last time I checked, I was. I’m just not fucking you like you want me to!” You raise your voice and his eyes widen at what you say. He didn’t realize how outspoken you’ve become, but hearing you say that is a reality check for the man.
“How dare you say that?” He responds, making you roll your eyes. You unlock your phone and look for his mother’s contact. Meanwhile you tell him,
“You’re a fucking horrible person. Why are you trying to take my job away from me when I’ve excelled at my job? Because we have a past together? I’m sorry for dating you, I guess.” You finally find the contact and when you’re about to call her, he takes the phone from your hands.
“Are you trying to call her? What business do you have with her? Why is she employing you?” He asks the questions that remain unanswered. You’re also not giving him an answer. He scoffs at your silence before saying, “Reason doesn’t matter. I’m the boss, and you’re fired.”
“You’re an entitled son of a bitch.” You take your phone back. You’re about to call his mother but you pause. You take a deep breath before you say, “You know, I’m glad you left me. If we had gotten married we would’ve gotten divorced within a year.”
“So suddenly you can remember we have a past together.” He says, making you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You chuckle, rolling your eyes.
“You were the one who told me to forget about our past while we worked together, why are you mad that I wasn’t bringing it up!” You argue, and he’s gathering his thoughts while you dial his mother. You put the phone on speaker, and he says,
“There’s no way you’re calling her.” And when she picks up the phone, he hears her voice. There’s no way his own mother would side with you of all people. He’s holding back a smirk, waiting for you to say something, to ridicule yourself.
“Hey, Mrs. Gojo. I’m with your son right now and he’s trying to fire me.” You inform her, and you both hear her sigh. Satoru is waiting for it. She’s going to tell you off, she might be putting up a tough act with him but when it comes between you and him, she’ll obviously side with him.
“I’ll talk to him. Don’t pack your stuff up, he’s just throwing a tantrum.” And she hangs up on you. You smile at Satoru, batting your eyelashes before you tell him,
“I’ll let you handle her. Have fun.” Just as you speak his phone rings, and he sees his mother’s name on the screen.
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You’re not sure what you’re expecting that same day when Mrs. Gojo texts you to meet up at a restaurant at lunch. Maybe she wants to talk about Satoru’s awful behavior with you and apologize– You doubt that she’s apologizing, that’s certainly the last thing she’s going to do. You’ve known the woman so long, and you don’t remember her ever apologizing.
You get to the restaurant, and luckily for you, it isn’t something that’s high-end. It’s nice, but nothing extravagant that’ll make you feel bad about how you look. You walk into the place, and tell the hostess the name that the reservation is under, and she leads you to the table. A sigh escaping your lips when you see her and who she’s with. Of course.
“Mrs. Gojo… Gojo.” Your eyes shift from the mother to the son. You know there’s no way you can escape from this, so you might as well sit down comfortably. “What’s the reason for this meeting?”
“I can’t have you two working together while you bicker like children. I need you two to make up.” She says, and you click your tongue. You clear your throat before you tell her,
“Mrs. Gojo, I think it’s best to hurry up with hiring another secretary for your son. As much as I try to ignore it, we have a past together and we simply can’t get along even in a professional manner.” You try your best to be honest with her. You would’ve gladly been demoted back to Shoko’s secretary, but not fired by him. Especially since you know that he did it without his mother knowing.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, dear. I put you as Satoru’s secretary because that’s what I think fits best.” She responds. Satoru pinches the bridge of his name while your nails dig into the cloth of your skirt. Right, your opinion doesn’t matter. She’s the one that makes all the decisions around here. You stare at Satoru, waiting to see if he’ll actually say something to her.
To no surprise, he bites down his tongue.
She takes a sip from her water before she clears her throat. “I should get going, you two figure it out. I told the waiter to keep his eye on you.”
This reminds you of when you were kids and Satoru would snatch a toy out of your hands which would ensue an argument. You were always forced to make up, of course Mrs. Gojo wouldn’t be the one to force you because at the time she didn’t want her son to be friends with you. It’d always be your mother.
You’re tempted to leave when she leaves, but you stay in your seat. You’re hungry, you might as well order something. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave either. When the waiter comes around, you both order something.
You sit in silence, awkwardly looking around the place. After around a minute or so, you take your phone out. You open the couple of messages you have from the nanny, and smile as you see your son. He’s playing with the toy cars that his grandmother got him, and you take this opportunity to glance at Satoru and then at your son. You hate how much they look alike, and as you look back and forth you realize they look more similar than what you had in mind.
“How’s Ren?” He asks, and you nearly drop your phone. You furrow your brows as you take a big gulp from your glass. Can he read your mind? He awkwardly looks around before he asks, “Is that not the name of your cat?”
“Yeah.” You laugh. It takes everything in you not to burst into a fit of laughter. You completely forgot that your son is now a cat. You take a sip of water before saying, “He’s good.”
“Maybe we can make up if you show me a picture of your cat.” He says, and you roll your eyes as you shake your head.
“I decide when we make up, after all, you tried to fire me.” You point out. He really can’t argue with that. You tap your finger against the table before you tell him, “I guess you can talk about what you wanted to talk about so badly. Remember when you asked me to dinner?”
“Yeah… I’ve thought about it and that won’t end well.” He confesses. He can’t get rid of you, he doesn’t know why his mother is insistent on you two working together. “I guess… How have you been doing the past five years?”
“I’ve been…” You take a deep breath. You found out your boyfriend got married months after breaking up with you, you had a baby alone, have been raising him alone, overworking yourself to ensure Ren has the best possible upbringing. You’re tired. You sheepishly smile, “Fine. I’ve been fine.”
“You look tired.” He says. You have no idea why his words make your eyes fill up with tears. You chuckle, standing up to use the bathroom.
“That’s what happens when you work for your mom.” You respond. He doesn’t know what else to say, but it’s fine, you walk away to use the bathroom. He bounces his leg as he waits for you. He has to think of what he’s going to say to kill the awkwardness that goes on at your table
There’s a vibrating sound on the table, and he sees that you’ve left your phone. Satoru gets a great idea, you might not want to share much about your life but you’ve left your phone behind. He doubts your password has changed. He holds back, it’s an invasion of your privacy. But if the phone that’s across the table were to magically land in front of him and light up, it wouldn’t be an invasion of your privacy if he just glanced at it.
He’s fighting back on grabbing the phone and checking everything that you have there. His hand lands on the table and he slowly moves his hand. And just when he’s about to reach the phone, you’re back. You ask, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He tries to play it off, his hand going to his side of the table and he puts his elbow on the table before his head rests on his hand. You try to act as if you didn’t see him reaching for your phone. You came back when you noticed you had left your phone and you feared this would happen. “So um… Are you seeing anyone?”
“I don’t have the time.” You share. Your food finally gets to the table and you get your utensils to begin stuffing your face. “I was about to ask you the same question.”
“Right.” He awkwardly chuckles. You both begin to eat, and his eyes can’t stop looking at you as you try your best to keep your tableside manners. Satoru can’t eat, his appetite goes away. His stomach growls, wanting food but the thought of eating makes him want to puke. He wipes his mouth with a napkin before he clears his throat. “I apologize for firing you… You are doing a great job and I just–”
“Got in your feelings.” You finish his sentence for him. He ends up sighing. You’re right. You shrug, “As long as you don’t let it happen again.”
“I won’t. I promise. Next time around it’s up to my mom.” He responds.
“So we’re stuck working together forever.” You joke. He ends up laughing. He watches you eat, and you feel awkward since he watches you like a hawk. When you swallow the mouthful of food, you ask him a question that keeps bugging you, “Are you and Sayo thinking of having kids?” 
“Kids! Kids… Um, we haven’t talked about it. Don’t think she wants them.” He answers, and he sounds unsure about it all. You find it odd considering that’s his wife of five years, but it’s none of your business. You know Satoru wants kids but perhaps he’s changed his mind. “So um… You and Suguru.”
“What about us?” You slightly tilt your head to the side. Satoru doesn’t want to bring it up. He doesn’t want to give you ideas, but he already mentioned Suguru.
“You two seem… Friendly.” He asks, and you know what he’s insinuating. 
“I wish… I don’t think he’s into me.” You confess since he hasn’t bothered to contact you ever since he found out about Ren, and Satoru won’t mention the past. He won’t mention it because if he hears that you’ve started dating Suguru, he just might lose his mind.
“How could he not?” He says, and you feel your face get warm.
“Let’s not.” You reply, and he bites his lip. He ends up nodding in agreement. He would have talked to you for hours a couple of years ago, but he doesn’t find a topic to talk about. You don’t know each other anymore.
You keep eating quietly since neither of you want to talk more deeply about the past, and when you’re finished, Satoru calls the waiter to cover the bill. To your surprise, Mrs. Gojo got it covered. You both stand up and exit the restaurant. 
You don’t bother saying anything else as you begin to walk to your car, and you assume that Satoru begins to walk the other way until he calls out your name. You come to a full stop and you turn to look at him. You sweetly smile at him, before you ask him, “What’s up?”
You don’t know what to do when he wraps his arms around you. He hugs you so tightly that he sucks the air out of your body. You’re not sure what to do– Whether you want to hug him back or just awkwardly stand as the man that you’ve loved for so long hugs you. He’s been waiting to do it for five years. 
And he’s waiting for you to hug him back, but you’re not budging. Until you feel a droplet on your shoulder. His head rests on your shoulder and he sniffles. You finally hug him back, “Don’t cry, Toru. You have no reason to cry.”
It’s muffled but you’re sure you hear an,
“I’ve missed you.”
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wonik1ss · 8 months
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Hostage — Newjeans
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pairing : newjeans!haerin x 6th member!reader
song rec : extra-ordinary : billlie
summary : one newjeans member is a little jealous of the attention one of your plushies are getting
a/n : just a silly little newjeans/haerin fic
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You had just had your third comeback which had six songs. While that may make it seem like after promotions we’re mostly over you would, be to puckered out to do anything but you weren’t.
So instead of going to sleep after performing super shy and newjeans. For what seemed like the hundredth time, you decided to entertain tokki’s by showing of your bed full of plushies on phoning.
“This one Minji and Dani got for me as my christmas gift”.
user : aww so cute
user : spoil the next comeback!
user : were’s stewy?
As you looked over the comments your eyes squinted at the last one.
“What do you mean tokki’s stewy’s- “. You stopped mid sentence when you noticed your plushie named stewy wasn’t there. While you and your members were filming super shy in spain, your member hanni got you a plushie. Which you named stewy after the stew you had that day.
Your members found the name a little weird but let it go. But after noticing your plushie was gone maybe someone really didn’t like him.
“I’m sure I just misplaced it no need to worry tokki’s”. After an half an hour passed you signed out the live and, went to have dinner with the rest of your members.
“I know this is weird.. but.. did any of you take stewy from my bed?”. Your members shook there heads as they continued to eat and chat. You would have left it alone if earlier that day, you hadn’t taken a pitch with stewy. But you did. Which meant that someone took him later in the day before you went on live.
So a few days later you went live again. This time with a notebook, pen and glasses on.
user : what’s going on?
user : detective y/n!
user : I thought you were going live later?
“That’s right tokki’s today I am detective Y/n! After my last live I haven’t bee able to find my chicken stewy and I know one of my members took him! So let’s solve this case together!”. More and more people joined the live as you started to go into your suspects.
Minji Kim, always teased you for the weirdly named chicken plush.. but never to the point you would think she would steal him..
Hanni Pham, always jokingly asked how your “child” was doing on and of screen.. so why would she steal him if she seemed to atleast like him a bit..
Danielle Marsh, as you started talking about Dani you giggled. Danielle treated stewy like her own child. But she never took him without asking so not her!
“Hmm tokki’s it seems we only have to more options Haerin Kang and Hyein Lee!”
user : wasn’t expecting this on the live today
user : why am I so invested?
user : 10 NewJeans albums that it’s haerin!
Haerin Kang, she always side eyed stewy because now her time with you also had him in it too. Haerin wasn’t to talkative at times but she loved to randomly walk into your room and hangout. So maybe she was jealous stewy took her hangout time!
Hyein Lee, always would pretend not to know we’re stewy was just to have stowed him away as a joke. Maybe she just took the joke to another level!
“Ok tokki’s whoever says the members name the most I will confront start typing!”
user : haerin!
user : hyein
user : hyein the last time she hid stewy it went on for 2 hours!
user : haerin
“Ok so I guess I’ll be confronting Hyein first let’s take a trip to her room now!”. As you walked over to your youngest members room. You flipped the camera to show her door opening.
“Something wrong Y/nnie?”
“Yes, Hyein.. is there any chance you took stewy from my room”. She giggled before she responded.
“I didn’t think it would go this- I mean no but I think a certain cat did”. You giggled too as you said goodbye went to knock and Haerins door.
“Why hello there”. Haerin said in a very mischievous voice as you tried your best not to laugh.
“Hello Haerin Kang I am here to ask If you know we’re a certain stewy is?”
“No never heard of a stuart…”
“It’s stewy..”. Haerin playfully rolled her eyes as you went on.
“If your so sure you don’t know him can me and the tokki’s take a look around?”
“Sure I guess..”. As haerin looked you up and down as she let you in and you set your phone down so all tokki’s could see you searching for stewy.
You were about to lose all hope before you looked under the cats bed.
“Aha so you took him!”. Haerin giggled and you did too as the both of you sat infront of your phone.
“I’m so sorry tokki’s but I swear that things evil!”. Haerin said pointing to the plushie in your lap.
“Jealous much?”
“Yes yes infact I am!”. You giggled and hugged haerin and then turned back to the phone.
“Now that the mystery has been solved see you later tokki’s!”. You and haerin waved as you turned of the phone.
“Did you really have to hold my plushie hostage to hang out with me more?”
“No but I knew tokki’s would love the show”
Then with that the hostage case of stewy had been solved! I wondered if that one tokki got there 10 albums…
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seresinhangmanjake · 4 months
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The One I Want: Part 10
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader
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Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.
Notes/Warnings: very likely typos, fluffy stuff, cursing i think.
Words: 3157
The One I Want Masterlist
The words ‘I’ll be fine’ are still ringing in your ear, drilled into your brain from the excessive number of times they’d been said or texted in the last ten hours. From the moment you stepped out of your bedroom door this morning, Jake began insisting on picking you up from the shop following your shift. He insisted before you even had a chance to suggest an alternative plan for your day. As soon as you opened your mouth, he had his hand up and head shaking to stop you.
“Don’t even say it,” he said, “I’ll be there to get you, same as always,” to which you responded with what might as well be your new catchphrase: “I’ll be fine.”
His attempts to put his foot down on the matter were unsuccessful as you pointed out every reason why finding your own means of transportation after work is the best solution. He rolled his eyes at “It’s your birthday, Jake,” and snorted at “Your party at the bar starts an hour and a half before my shift ends,” but finally surrendered to “If you’re late, your friends will be disappointed. They mean too much to you for that.” Then he sighed and nodded and continued about his morning routine as you did yours before you headed to the shop. Though you thought you’d won, you received multiple “Are you sure?” texts that were also answered with “I’ll be fine.” And you are fine. Your shift was dull, uneventful, and you had no issue securing a quick ride to The Hard Deck. 
Hopping out of the back of the driver’s car is a struggle with the number of bags hanging off your arms. Between your purse, Jake’s present, and the clothes you wore to work shoved into a grocery bag—which were switched with the casual, green knee-length dress you’re wearing—you’re weighed down. 
“Need some help there, Sweetness?” Javy is one of few lingering outside the bar, and the only person you know within sight. He smiles and the arms crossed over his chest bounce with his chuckle. Before you answer, he walks over to snatch both your purse and the grocery bag in his hands. “I’m gonna toss these in Jake’s truck. No one will bother them,” he says.
In his brief absence, you stand a little straighter and brush the stray hairs back behind your ear. A low whistle coming from behind you causes you to flinch until you realize it’s from your friend as he makes his way back over to you.
“You're definitely lookin’ lovely,” he teases, and you snort.
“Quit it.”
“No can-do, sweetness. Too pretty to ignore.”
Heat floods your cheeks and you look down at the ivy-green material flowing around your body. It’s about as simple a dress you could find—well, that Millie could help you find after insisting on leaving behind the jeans—but it’s much more than anything you’ve worn in the past. Social events have never been your cup of tea. Not being invited out has left you slim on practice, and that includes every aspect down to your choice of clothing. While Millie did help you pick it out, it doesn’t necessarily mean she is an expert either, but you have no way of knowing for sure. “Is it too much?”
“Not a chance,” Javy replies. “You look amazing. And you happen to be the very reason I am out here instead of in there.”
“Meaning…”
“As Jake’s top-tier friend, I want to be the one to personally deliver his favorite present. Now that you’re here, I can do that,” he says with a wink before holding out his elbow for you to take. 
Jake’s eyes are already on the door when you walk in, finding you instantly, and his entire body perks up like a man just shot with a bolt of life. Shoulders lose the little bit of slump there was from forearms resting on the high-top table and eyebrows drop their pinch as he watches your every step toward him. Through the mass of bodies Javy assists in weaving you through, Jake’s stare is impressive. It’s steady and he doesn’t lose you, not for a second. 
When you reach him, Javy loudly declares “The contest is over! I just won best present.” He then releases you to round the group and pops open a bottle of beer with the edge of the table. By the multiple marks on the wood surface, you imagine—hope, anyway—that Penny doesn’t mind. However, if anyone were to follow her rules and respect the property she requests be respected, it would be this group. 
As you stand there greeting the rest of the crew, you can still feel those green eyes. A few other pairs dart back and forth between you and Jake. Tension bubbles around the back corner of the room where the modest party is set up, but it’s not an aggressive tension from distress or concern of discomfort; it’s a tension buzzing wildly with excitement. And from the smiles on faces and the little redhead you’ve bonded with bouncing on her toes, you can begin to guess where this buzzing, humming, zapping energy is coming from. 
They know. You’re not sure why a flash of surprise moves through you. Of course, they know. Of course, Jake told them. They’re his best friends. They’re the family he made after the devastation of having his own taken from him. His sharing of what’s happened between you over the last week is normal, so normal that it’s unfamiliar. One more thing you’ll have to get used to if Jake continues to pull you out of the existence you’ve known for so long.
“Hi,” he says. It rides on a heavy exhale that you can barely hear through the cacophony of voices filling the bar. 
Jake’s friends appear to go back to their conversations, but they’re no good at disguising their true intentions. Their ears are alert as eyes rely on the strength of their peripheral vision to catch either your or Jake’s next move. A tight squeeze with roaming hands, a deep kiss, an arm wrapping possessively around a shoulder or waist—they’re clearly eager to witness it all, but the anticipation hanging in the air is snuffed out by Jake leaning in and innocently brushing his lips over your cheek. To your side, there is a collective murmuring of disappointment that is, again, poorly disguised.
“You get here ok? I mean, you know, without complication?” Jake asks. A nod joins your budding grin. 
“Easy-peasy.” He stares more, his fingers traveling from your elbow to your wrist, and you suddenly remember what’s clutched in your hands. “Oh, I got you this,” you say, holding up the bag. It’s made of a thin, golden paper that’s priced way too high for its quality with clashing orange tissue sticking out of it, and it’s about four sizes too big for the gift you got him, but it was all the shop had last minute. 
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“It’s your birthday. That’s what people do,” you counter, because even though you’ve never received a present on your birthday, Jake is the type of guy who always should. You hold the bag higher, forcing him to take it.
“Thank you,” he says before turning to set the bag on the table. It’s then that you see the remnants of paper and bows scattered across the wooden surface. Piled on a couple of stools behind Bob are the gifts he has already opened. Jake’s hand starts to dig through the bright orange tissue paper. 
“You’re going to open it right now?” you ask, having previously imagined there would be at least a sliver less of attention on the two of you when he does. Your fingers of one hand begin to fiddle with the fingers of the other. 
“Sure, why not?” His hand pauses and he looks at you a little harder. “Unless you don’t want me to.”
“N-No, it’s fine.” A blond brow raises. “Really, it is.”
He waits a second longer before resuming his discarding of the paper. When he looks inside, his hand retreats, and he watches your gift at the bottom of the bag as if it might start moving on its own. Then his head shakes and he grins ear to ear and he reaches back in to pull it out. The brows of the other aviators pinch in confusion at the globe sitting in the palm of Jake’s hand. In all of its cheap glory, it contains a beach scene with plenty of unnatural sparkly snow settled at the bottom of the liquid which is quickly disturbed by Jake’s light shaking. He chuckles. Then chuckles some more. Crinkles deepen at the corners of his eyes.
“I don’t get it,” Rooster mutters, only to have Millie elbow him in the side. 
“You don’t have to,” she scolds. “Now hush.”
Despite Jake’s laughter, when he places the snow globe back in the bag you fear you’ve somehow fucked up. That it’s not as cute as you imagined he would think. That he’d rather you have gotten him nothing over something so silly. But then he faces you, takes your hand, and as he starts to walk away from the table, whispers, “Come with me.”
As you’re led away you glance over your shoulder to see that your friends are all in different states. Nat and Bob are exchanging glances and snickering at the birthday boy’s rapid departure, Millie is smacking her boyfriend’s hand as he reaches for the golden bag, and Javy smirks along with the statement “That certainly didn't take long.” 
You look ahead, but before you can fully catch up with your surroundings, you’re yanked through a door and pushed up against the other side of it as a mouth firmly presses to yours. Jake’s palm smacks the surface next to you, blindly feeling around for the deadbolt, and the thud from its turn echoes in the empty bathroom. Then his hands cup your cheeks and you melt as he pulls you in closer. 
At a different time, with a different man, unmanageable thoughts would be taking control of your senses right now. Your fingers would be stiffening and your eyes would be snapping open, darting around to take in every square inch of the room in search of signs of other people. You would be listening for any and every sound with such intensity that you’d have a decent count on the number of footsteps passing by the other side of the door. You wouldn’t be letting yourself go or forget your troubles or feel for a single moment because you know what this behavior looks like. You know how others often perceive it. In the midst of past frenzied kisses, your brain would deteriorate into a fractured mess. Ten percent of your mind would struggle to focus on the wandering hands and lips attached to yours; fifteen percent would go to wondering if anyone saw you sneak into the bathroom with a man; twenty would be spent worrying you’ll receive looks of judgment and pity once you rejoin the bar; twenty-five would be questioning why you’re choosing to be in the position you’re in when you know it won’t end well; and the remaining thirty percent would be trying to prematurely push away the shame to come when the somewhat intoxicated man kissing you in the bar bathroom decides he is done. 
It’s not a different time, though. You’re not with a different man. You’re exactly where you are, with the man you are with, and you don’t care about anything but him. 
Jake is pulled in with hands fisted in the material of his shirt. He’s your only source of stability and direction as he turns your bodies and walks you backward. When your lower back meets the edge of the sink, you separate the kiss and instinctually jump up. Of course you jump. You always jump in these situations. But this time when your bottom lands on top of the counter, you don’t second guess the man whose hips are settling between your spread thighs, whose eyes gaze at you like you’re the most incredible thing they've ever seen, whose hands are threading into your hair, whose lips are once again claiming yours. 
His tongue teases the seam of your lips and when you part them so it can slip inside to brush along yours, muffled moans merge. The fingers hidden within the strands of your hair tighten into fists. They stay there until your own hands begin to explore. One index finger curls through a belt loop, tugging inward to remove what little distance remains between you. The other is the first on that hand to dip under the hem of his shirt and stroke over a patch of tanned skin just above the button of his jeans. You love how he feels there—hard with thick muscle but soft from the trail of hair that disappears under a band of denim. Jake shudders against you, and it seems to serve as a reminder that there is more of you for him to touch as well. 
With your hair freed, a hand grasps your outer thigh where your dress has ridden up. Fingertips knead flesh as an arm snakes around your waist. A squeak of surprise gets stuck in your throat when that arm jerks forward, unexpectedly managing to inch your bottom closer to the edge of the counter. 
There is so much happening, so much to absorb, and you don’t have a chance to mentally address the tick of uncertainty that never showed itself. Instead, you are simply full of the feeling that none of this scares you. Not a bit of it. Not the strength of his arm around you. Not the hand that has begun to slide up your thigh and under the hem of your dress to the swell of your ass. Not the pressing of his hips into the space between your legs. Not the heat he gives off that fights the chill of the room. Not his teeth nibbling your bottom lip, or the whimpers it draws forth that with anyone else would have you shrinking in embarrassment. You’re so far from afraid that you've crossed into happily addicted territory.
His mouth vanishes from yours to latch onto your neck. The sound you make at the new sensation has Jake’s hold on you tightening. 
“All because of a—” you gasp from a teasing lick under your ear, “a snow globe?”
You’ve learned that Jake likes to leave trails of his kisses; mark after mark to show the places he’s been. It is between the kisses of this trail from your ear to your shoulder that you hear “Partly the snow globe,” after one kiss, “partly this dress,” after another, and then “mostly just because it’s you.”
Jake chuckles when you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck. You could let him continue on for hours—would, too—but a banging on the door snaps you out of your blissful haze. 
Cursing, your spine straightens like a rod. “J-Just a second!” you yell, patting Jake’s shoulder. He hums into your sensitive skin, sending vibrations over your pulse. “Jake, I know you heard that. People want in.” There’s another knock, and another. Leaning back and placing your hands on his cheeks, you force Jake to look at you. “Time for you to leave.”
He holds his finger up. “One condition.”
“No conditions,” you say as you nudge him aside and hop off the counter. “There are women out there who have to pee.”
It’s a boom this time, leaving no question as to the person’s impatience. Twisting around, you glance over yourself in the mirror. Your lips are stolen, hair wild, and as you go about fixing it back into place, Jake’s arms wrap around your waist. 
“Promise me we can continue this at home,” he says. “I don't want to stop.” 
Your eyes meet his in the mirror. “Maybe…if you go.”
“Deal.” One more kiss lands on your shoulder before Jake is unbolting the door and jerking it open for whoever is on the other side. He peeks his head out, glances left and right, then looks back at you. “No one’s here.”
“You still have to go.” His face falls into a pout. “Don’t look at me like that. All of your friends are waiting for you, anyway.”
“They're waiting for you, too.”
“It's not my birthday. And I need to fix myself up a bit.”
Jake grins. Watching his reflection in the mirror, you see his eyes linger on your face and chest, enjoying the flush he caused that is more prominent under the fluorescents. They then make a slow line down your body, taking the time to appreciate your ass along the way. “That really is a great dress.”
Your flush deepens. “Go,” you demand, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He winks and then he’s gone. 
A squeeze traps the air in your lungs. It caves in your chest, making the thumping of your heart all the more demanding of your attention, and you roll your eyes when it becomes clear that your body is reacting to you missing him. Two seconds apart and you already want him back, and now you feel like a giddy fool; a horny teenager around the first boy to ever truly want her. 
Blowing out that trapped breath, you run your fingers through your hair to tame it. It doesn’t manage to return to its previous state, but there is nothing you can do about it. Neither can you remove that pink shade from your cheeks and chest despite the damp paper towel you blot over your skin. You look half-sexed, and it’s comically obvious. But maybe if you channel Jake Seresin energy and walk back to your friends’ table without looking guilty, they won’t look at you like you have something to be guilty of. Not guilty in a demeaning sense, of course, but guilty in a way that will have them shooting teasing looks at you right before Nat and Millie pull you away from the men for details of your actions.
That will have to be your plan, because there is no chance they won’t notice your altered appearance, especially when they immediately knew why you and Jake were disappearing to begin with. 
Shaking your head, you tug at the bottom of your dress to make sure all of its seams line up with where they are supposed to be on your body. When you decide it’s about as good as it’s going to get, you head for the door and pull it open, but your path is blocked. 
“Good thing he finally left,” Brit says. She steps forward and to avoid a collision you have to take a step back into the bathroom. “Now we have a chance to talk.”
---
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gloomunson · 1 month
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Purely Transactional
First time really publishing anything I've written for Eddie. No stranger to smut. just to him. Go easy on me.
Eddie Munson smut. The one where you fake date. Picture the 90s. Slow build.
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Word Count: 12,872
Picture this; you’re being forced to attend your sisters engagement party, it’s a weekend event a couple towns over. You’ve got a room booked for two, yourself and your boyfriend. Your family can’t wait to meet the man who’s stolen your heart at last. It’s actually the second biggest event in your family history for years. The issue: you don’t have a boyfriend. You haven’t had one since you were 16. You only said you did have a boyfriend because you thought you would have by now. You never saw life going this way at all. Now you either have to fess up to being a single mother of two beautiful little dogs or find a last minute lover to feel less alone. Yay.
You asked everyone you knew. The neighbour, the neighbour’s neighbour. His cousin from out of town, his cousin from out of town’s neighbour. Every single one of your friends and only one of them gave you something or more, someone to work with. “Why don’t you ask Eddie?” You’re slouching on his sofa, sinking into the leather as he strums away at his guitar a joint hanging dangerously from his mouth. “I don’t know him.” You say it like it’s obvious, kicking your feet up. “Which is exactly why you should.” You catch his drift, but you don’t want to. It wasn’t as ideal as he thought it was. “I’m gonna get asked questions.” You deadpan. “So, make some notecards.” You tug the joint from his mouth, bringing it to your own. “Yes you may have that.” You flick him. “Rude.” You take a drag before slotting it back gently between his lips, returning to your seat.
“He won’t do it.” Gareth doesn’t respond. “I know he won’t, he doesn’t like me.” He huffs. ‘You hadn’t given him a chance to’ is what he says in his mind. “Has he told you that?” He quit playing, giving you more of his attention. He really did want to help. “Not exactly, no.” He leaned over his guitar, placing the joint down in his hand painted ash tray on the coffee table. The one you made for him for Christmas the year before. The one that he loved and guarded with his life. “Ask him.” You shake your head. “Ask him.” He says again, the guitar now being rested carefully against the table alerting you that he meant business. “No. Way.” You continue. He moves over to you; you slot your legs across his lap, and he leans back into his seat comfortably under the weight of them. “I’m gonna ask him.” You think he’s joking. You hoped he was joking. He wasn’t joking.
-
“Edward, we don’t know each other that well so I thought you’d be perfect plus you’re kinda the only other single one left, so it had to be you.” There were no lies told. You were the only ones; it might have been the only thing you actually had in common in your little inner circle of friends. You weren’t close but you also weren’t complete strangers. You were a little more than acquaintances, but not really friends. He was your only shot at this, that much you did know. “I resent that.” You roll your eyes, ‘you would,’ you think. You’re running out of options, he was your last chance, you had a week to prepare, this had to be it. You considered throwing in the towel moments before he arrived at your place. Half an hour late. It should have been enough of a sign not to go through with it but then he did arrive. Meaning that somewhere deep down inside him, he was interested. You could work with interested.
“I’ll pay you.” You can’t imagine anything worse; you were desperate sure, not desperate enough to actually pay him but desperate all the same. He seemed reasonable enough though. He had more money now than he knew what to do with and he was close with Gareth. Gareth was good people; he’d turn your offer down; you were sure of it. “How much?” He perks up, stroking his chin now his attention was caught. “You weren’t actually supposed to want payment.” You panicked, feet shuffling, hands tapping your thighs relentlessly. He was smirking. “Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?” He steps in close, a couple feet between you, not enough. “Want me to act like an escort? You’re gonna have to pay me like one.” If you hadn’t ever had a conversation with him, you might have found that attractive. He was tall, dark, and handsome. His jawline so picturesque you may have thought about kissing it once or twice. You also liked his eyes, even if he was cold and callous beneath them, only out for himself. But he wasn’t that attractive, and he didn’t intimidate you like he thought he did. Much.
“Like you don’t have more money than my entire family combined.” You dig. His rock star era made a hell of a name for himself. This was never going to happen. You don’t know why he even entertained it this far. There wasn’t a single helpful bone in his body, no matter how much you wished there were. “How bad do you need a boyfriend sweetheart?” He shortens the space between you even more. Your chest feels tight, the confidence dripping from his tongue was actually working on you, you were out of your depth. The way he looked at you too. Eyes flicking down to your lips and back, head tilting slightly, almost robotically, like he was sizing you up. Seeing if he could make it work. Make you work for him. You felt a heat on the back of your neck. You felt gross.
“100 bucks if they believe it, 50 if they don’t.” You couldn’t believe you were even saying it. You’d have to make him forget you agreed to any of that. “For how long?” He quipped back. “You’re so greedy. I’m gonna have to make a note of that in our very public lovers spat.” You lace it with venom as well as humour, standing your ground. The corner of his lips begins to curl. He fights it. “How long?” He repeats again, just as steady in tone. “A weekend.” You breathe. “Like Saturday and Sunday.” He asks. “Like Friday to Monday,” you respond just as deadpan. “200.” He takes a dangerous step closer. You don’t flinch. “150 and no black eye.” His brows furrow, forehead creasing in confusion. He kind of reminded you of a neanderthal. Dumb little boy.
“Why would I have a black eye?” You raise your fist. “OKAY PUT YOUR FIST DOWN. Jesus woman, I’ll do it.” He admits defeat. “Perfect. I made some note cards, things about me you may get asked about, read them, memorise them, guard them with your life.” You tug the notes from your back pocket, pushing them into his chest abruptly. He looks down at them quizzically. “What if they ask about me?” You shrug your shoulders. “I’m sure you’re not that complex.” He doesn’t attempt to hide how insulted he is by that.
“When is it?” You point to the cards. “All the information you need is in the notes.” He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, “how are we-“ you go to open your front door, you’d had the entire conversation in the hallway, not wanting him to go any further into your home than that. “In the notes Edward.” He takes a look down at the cards in his hands, he hated reading other people’s handwriting, made him feel dumb when he couldn’t understand it as well as he’d liked. You joined your letters all curly too which didn’t help. He actually half expected you to dot the I’s with hearts, you seemed like that kind of girl. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that you hadn’t.
You’re ushering him out the door, waving your hand to make him move faster. He pauses in your doorframe. You were so close. You could just kick him; he’d be off your property in no time. You wouldn’t have to think about him for another week then. You could pack your bags in peace. “You spelt my name wrong.” He points to the card; you’d done it on purpose. “No, I think your parents did.” He frowns. Before he can respond again you give him that much needed shove out the door. “BYE Eddie!” You slam it behind him, leaning your back against it as if that would prevent him from getting back inside and on top of your nerves again. He found the whole ordeal just as unpleasant as you had but he still finds himself on the other side of that door with a smile on his face. He read every single card you wrote for him. You were way more annoying than he thought. 
-
“What part are you guys having trouble understanding?” You ask the table, leaning over, reaching for your cocktail to distract your mouth before you can step your foot in it. You were being tested way harder than you ever anticipated you would. You really never imagined they’d care let alone put you on trial for the crime of getting a boyfriend without their prior knowledge or approval. It’s nice to know how friendly and welcoming they really are when push comes to shove. You’d have to keep that in mind for the real thing, whenever that might be.
You’d laugh the nerves away, but you were afraid you might never stop laughing. You’d just manically laugh until you sank under the table, down into the ground, right to centre of the earth, burning up at the core before passing away painfully. You wished you could laugh. Instead, you just took the longest sip, looking to your left and right as subtly as you could muster under the immense pressure placed upon your shoulders by your sister and her fiancé. Deep breaths, it’ll all be over soon. 
“I don’t buy it.” She states matter of factly. “You go from a single dog mom to suddenly in love with the perfect guy.” You open your mouth to speak but you daren't even try, she’s not finished yet. “It’s a little conveniently timed don’t you think?” She waves her hands to illustrate her point in that annoying fashion that only she could. Waving her fresh manicure right in your face, whether accidental or on purpose, still ridiculously annoying and yet another reminder that she had her life together and you didn’t. She turned to her fiancé before glancing towards the rest of the table for back up, all nodding along with her instantly as if she were a puppet master stringing them along. Cowards. 
Your gaze remains steady and ice cold, colder than the slushy cocktail in your hands. The only thing that made the weekend worth it was the free bar and the adorable outdoor beer garden. You release the straw after a long sip with an “Ahh.” You try not to enjoy the twitch of your sister’s right eye at the sound. She’d always loathed when people did that. Anyone who made a noise of satisfaction after a drink no matter how delicious or refreshing it may be, was a colossal pain in her ass. You think she just despises other people’s enjoyment. She thinks it’s an unnecessary sound that people tend to use to exaggerate how nice something is as a performance for other people rather than for themselves. She also thinks it’s incredibly unladylike, which gives you a bigger kick to try it out every single time.
“Why would I lie?” You place your drink down harder than you intend to, wincing as the glass clangs on the table so hard you thought it may shatter. “You know I love you sis, but I don’t think I’d go to the length of faking a relationship just because you’re getting engaged.” Which would be such a wonderful sentence to throw out into the universe if that weren’t exactly what you were doing. “I just met the right guy.” You try not to grimace at the cheesiness of it all, that, and the fact you still hadn’t decided if you’d even liked him more than just a piece of eye candy. Because there was no denying that he was attractive, from the start he’d had that going at least. You’d only been admitting it because of the influence of alcohol too. It was just the rest of the package that gave you a headache.
“But he’s-“ You scowl before she continues that sentence, you almost will her to continue. “He’s what?” You push. If anyone were going to come for Eddie they had better make it good because that was an area you excelled in and would absolutely love to be a part of even if you did have to defend him right now. You could always use any good material at a later date when left to your own devices though, a pen and paper would be wonderful.
“He’s not your type.” You don’t believe that’s what she planned to say, it came out far too polite to be something she’d actually thought of. “What is my type then?” You probably shouldn’t have asked her this, but your curiosity trumps all reason. She flails her hand around in her lap, trying to think of the correct way to phrase it. You had no doubt your past relationships were displaying in her mind, enough horrendous options for her to choose from right out of a hat. 
“Nerds,” she begins to list on her fingers, which is quite alarming because you really didn’t think you had that much of a track record. “Gamer boys,” which basically comes under ‘nerds.’ “Skinny guys,” that was absolutely not exclusive, “Gamer boy nerds.” She throws 3 fingers up. That’s if she was classing ‘boy’ as a type which you assume she was. You had to hand it to her, she wasn’t entirely wrong about your past dating pool, but Eddie wasn’t exactly far off that. Allegedly, back in his school days, he was the biggest nerd of them all, right before his band took off, he was participating in DnD tournaments and if that wasn’t the epitome of gamer boy nerd then what was? He just happened upon a glow up in his mid-twenties, something you still desperately waited for yourself. “Eddie just, doesn’t seem much of a nerd.” You’re certain that’s not what she intended to say, and you thought she might stop herself there, but she doesn’t, why would she? “He’s, well I hate to say it,” you bet she doesn’t though, “he’s out of your league.” Ahh, there it is. That’s more like it. She even says it with an apologetic expression to make you consider it for a millisecond. If only he were here. Oh, how he’d love this.
Eddie was the lucky one in this scenario, whether it was fake or not, you were a catch. One that no one had ever caught and kept hold of but a catch, nonetheless. Your mom would agree, probably not the best argument but it’s there and it counted. You reached for your drink once again and prayed he returned soon; you were drowning out here and you weren’t even out of the shallows. “Then lucky me.” You sip as aggressively as one can with a shitty paper straw wedged between their teeth. You were so glad the sea turtles were safer at the hands of recycled paper straws, but you so missed being able to drink a cocktail without the added ingredient of paper mache sinking at the bottom of each glass.
“Why are we in luck?” His voice swings in joining the conversation as he walks back over to your table, the chain on his jeans jingling as it swayed while he walked. You’d asked him to remove it, he swore he would, he didn’t. His hearing was impeccable, you wonder what else had slipped by him on his way over. You’d honestly never felt so relieved to hear his voice either, even if his steps closer bought the smell of cheap cigarettes and your early twenties. You’d have loved him back then. Back in college, your first taste of freedom, the option to date whoever you liked, to experiment a little. You’d have eaten up that bad boy, leather jacket, fingers coated in metal, cigarette smoking musician act he had going for him. Quiet and brooding too, oh yeah, your knickers would have never left the floor. Good thing you grew up since then. 
He grabbed his chair, pushing it right next to yours, as close as he could get without sitting directly on top of you and for a second you ponder about why he bothered with his chair at all. His eyes burned into the side of your face, and you plastered a smile wide enough to match his as you leant into him. “What took you so long?” You whispered while maintaining that sickeningly sweet smile that hurt your face to pull. “You miss me that much?” He licked across his bottom lip, and you mentally scold yourself for looking at it. “I’m getting eaten alive out here.” He grinned wider. “Must be because you’re so damn delicious.” Your stomach fluttered. What the fuck? 
He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. You felt yourself relax into him, like his lips had sucked all of the tension from your body. You may not like him very much but you sure were glad he was here right now. Even without the facade, it was hard being in environments where you had to face your entire family alone. It’s not that you weren’t close with them, or didn’t love them, it was just difficult standing your own ground sometimes. You needed that extra shield for the invasive questions and high expectations, the anchor to keep you firmly in place, sure of yourself. It was a tough act to balance. 
He couldn’t deny that he’d gained some respect for you for how well you’d handled things. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d manage a family dynamic like this alone, even if he were part of it. He was kind of developing a soft spot for you, probably more than you were anyway. Okay, definitely more than you were. He wasn’t sure when it started. He’d had the message exchanges throughout the last week. He had the detailed notes about your life from start to finish to divulge. The 3 hour car journey where you refused to play music, instead forcing him to answer questions about you in preparation for the event. It was somewhere amongst there. Maybe even when you’d shared a room the past two nights without killing each other. In seeing a vulnerable side of you that made you appear a little more human. He’d also seen a larger portion of you without clothing, that certainly helped.
Yes. Perhaps somewhere around there he’d liked you. All he knew now was that in watching your interactions with your family, it made him want to stick to you like glue and support you the best he could for however long you would let him. You had it covered, and you’d tell him that too, afraid of showing any weaknesses, but that’s exactly why he felt like he should support you, he didn’t want you to feel so alone, you didn’t have to be so alone. He’d known all too well what that was like.
He didn’t even have to force himself to kiss your cheek that time, he’d just wanted to rid your face of the frown that threatened to grace it, even if he found it adorable. His issue now was that he had trouble moving away. His lips lingering, breath tickling your cheek, until you coughed under your breath for him to shift away. For a moment he’d wished it weren’t all play pretend. That he could stay there and have it not feel so strange. He couldn’t pin point when his eyes started to soften at the sight of you. All he knew was that they had. It was getting increasingly easier to act enamoured by you, because, well, he might have been.
“So, what did I miss?” He tilts his head towards the rest of the table, it felt like such a difficult task to withdraw his attention from you. You yourself took the opportunity to catch a much needed breath. You also needed to pat your stomach to hold off the swarm of butterflies scrambling around in there. There was this dizzying, uneasiness in the pit of your tummy, like you were fighting the emotions within yourself. Those damn love bugs were wasting their time going crazy for this situation. It wasn’t real, not worth the energy. Surely you didn’t need to be convinced of that, it was clear as day. You didn’t need this unnecessary nausea. “We were just talking about what a wonderful couple you are.” Your brother in law speaks, directing his attention towards the man at your side. You really thought you’d liked that man, he betrayed you. You kept a special scowl just for him. He felt hot under the collar when he felt the intensity of it. Good, you thought. Traitor. 
Eddie bravely dipped his hand down onto your thigh where he’d noticed your hand was already resting, slipping his fingers between yours, resting atop your knuckles effortlessly for all to see. You’d felt your breath hitching in your throat. The simplicity of the action shouldn’t have caused such a stir, but it was just so easy for him. He was so touchy feely like it was the most natural thing in the world. He loved to touch, and you never expected it from him. It was one of the main reasons that made it so hard to remain sure that this was all an act. Was he like this with everyone? You’d half hoped he wasn’t, even if your other half screamed at you for that naivety. It wasn’t exactly your love language, but you’d wished it were, you wanted to touch him. Too many drinks maybe.
“Why do I feel like that’s sarcasm?” He threw back with nothing but charm, sweet like honey dripping from his tongue. If he weren’t in a band you could certainly picture him as an actor with some of the crap he pulled. Sometimes he even had you believing this whole thing, lines blurring like no other. Especially when nuzzled his nose into your neck eliciting a squeal from your lips. All before deciding to stay there, sitting with his chin resting on your shoulder happily. Like the most casual position in the world.
Your heart pounded against your chest. His arm slunk around your waist. His mouth opened for you, signalling you to bring his cocktail and straw between his lips to take a sip. A ridiculously over the top public display of affection you swore you’d never partake in. Yet for some reason your hands were ignoring every judgment your mind was making, allowing you to feed him his drink like some kind of mother to a parched child. It was interesting to you how fast you’d been able to communicate with him like that without it ever needing to be said or asked for. “You owe me.” You whisper. “Not how this transaction really works.” He says between sips rather impressively. It might even be considered cute if it wasn’t such a threat. Your cheeks burned.
“It just seems so sudden.” Your sister just can’t bite back her tongue for more than two seconds huh. You’re literally sat there with giant, red, beaming heart eyes for each other. So, close your personal space would never be described as such for as long as you shall live, ever again. Literally feeding each other. Squeezing each other’s hands. Hating every second you’re apart. Feeling like you may break without the other. Whispering sweet nothings (more like threats but no one else had spotted that) into each other’s ears. You’re both so over the top, overwhelmingly infatuated (although falsely) with each other you may as well claim this engagement party as your own and YET, no one believed you for a second. Hell, even you thought you might be falling. Thank you vodka.
“When you know, you know.” You say, lifting your hand to pat his cheek after putting his drink back on the table. He squeezes your other hand instinctively. He’d almost forgotten he was holding it in the first place, it felt so nice and soft, like it belonged in his. It could belong there. “What will it take to convince you?” He offers. You squeeze his hand even harder, this time hoping to pump the breaks on this one. As much as you appreciated him sticking up for the relationship. You weren’t up for a quick fire round of questions that you weren’t prepared in the slightest. Especially since he refused to learn the answers to any potential enquiries a day prior. Deeming the impromptu quiz session in the car ‘enough learning for a lifetime.’
“Ed,” is all you warn while you beg him to shut up with your mind instead. “No, no sweetie, we can answer all the questions they have.” He grinned at you so menacingly; you wanted to wipe that smirk right off his adorably smug little face. Woah. When did he become adorable? Scratch that. Shush. You’re so pissed you don’t even fawn over the pet name, much. You may as well pack your bags now and return home though, you were done for, the hoax was over. The end.
“What’s her favourite band?” Okay, we’re actually doing this. “Or singer, if that’s easier.” Ryan, your least favourite brother in law and your only brother in law, fires out. He only knew the answer himself because he tried to impress you one Christmas by buying you a limited edition vinyl. Of all the people at this table, you thought at least he wouldn’t be sceptical of you. Unbelievable.
“There isn’t just one, its multiple, depends what mood she’s in.” You’re intrigued already on where this is going. Your sister jeered at the response, already less than impressed. Eddie turns his head, lifting his hand to silence her before she can say anything. You almost pat him on the back for it. “But, if I had to choose.” Which he did. He really did. “Queen, Black Sabbath, and I’m going to add Corroded Coffin in there because she’s our number one groupie, aint that right babe?” You allow yourself to roll your eyes at the last part, even if you were dating you doubt you’d let him describe you as a groupie, dick.
“That’s easy, they’re pretty generic choices.” You had to give them that one, it wasn’t the most cut throat list of indie artists you could only associate with your taste and yours only. You’d been a bit of a basic music lover your whole life and there was no shame in that. You liked what you liked and that was okay. You were still impressed he knew any of your list though. Maybe he actually had read your notes, lying shit. Definitely not adorable. “Favourite food?” Okay, still going. You lean back, may as well get comfortable since you’re going to be here for a while. 
He snorted before answering that one and you wondered what was so insanely funny that could make him move his hand away from your thigh to explain it properly. You missed his touch the second you were without it. Gag. “Bread.” He giggled just saying it, the kind of giggle where the creases beside his eyes really stood out and his cheeks bunched up all precious and pudgy underneath them. You can’t help but smile.
“But not just plain bread right,” he looked to you before continuing as if to say ‘hey, watch this, look at me.’ He thinks he has you down. You indulge him. “So, bread in its many forms,” he lifted his fingers to start listing, “sandwiches, toast, brioche, fried bread, french toast, pizza dough, the list goes on right but at the height of it all,” he really gestured above his head to signify the detailed tier system of bread options. He added a small and useless breather to gain anticipation, it wasn’t working. “Garlic bread.” 
You snorted a laugh yourself this time. Not because he was wrong either, because he was 100% correct in fact. You were mortified that, that was your own answer. He locked eyes with you in a way that he hadn’t done before, with genuine affection, maybe even a glimmer of hope that he’d done you justice. He was captivated by you, your cheeks bursting with redness, your smile tight, starting to hurt you in fighting it. You looked so pretty right now. The glow of the lamps out in this beer garden just added to the radiance he already thought you had. He couldn’t believe a girl as pretty as you considered bread your favourite food.
He also found the noise you made to be one of the cutest things he’d ever heard, and he wished he could make you do it again someday. He really didn’t consider himself that funny though. He might have to get some drinks down you for another laugh like that. “I thought your favourite were sour patch kids?” Your sister argued, using her nails again to assist her point. Eddie quickly chimed in before you could go to correct her.
“Actually, that was her hyper fixation for a little while, ate every flavour except lemon. Which are my favourite, so it works out pretty well.” Your jaw may as well have hit the floor. He’d only known that from the car ride up here. You were about to throw the packet out before he stopped you, complaining you were wasting money and food since you left all the yellow ones. You were shocked he remembered. If you were impressed by him right now, surely everyone else had to be too, right? Wrong.
“Celebrity crush?” He answered this quicker than you or he would like to admit. You also just didn’t  know how he came to the conclusion he did and how he was so correct with it, suspicious. “Harrison Ford hands down, can’t even knock it, he’s a handsome man.” The next question went swimmingly too. “Favourite hobby?” He gave it a thought for a second, glancing to you and back, “painting, she’ll say she’s no good at it but actually she’s got a gift. I’ve never seen anyone use colour the way she does. Actually, considered using some of your work for album art.”  He turned to you towards the end, and you struggled to decipher whether it was bullshit or not. Your heart actually ached at the thought of it being true. 
“Favourite movie?” Your brother in law’s turn to ask. You threw your head back in exasperation. “What is this, the Spanish inquisition? Is this really necessary?” You looked to your sister and her future husband. “Yes!” They admitted in unison. Eddie’s hand returned to your thigh, patting it softly, his thumb rubbing soothing shapes into your bare skin. It was working. God it was working. He was like ice against your fire, the way he cooled you.
“I’ve got this.” He assured you. “Yeah, you kind of do, that’s why it’s so fucking weird.” You admitted quietly but not enough as to hide it from anyone else, deeming it safe for public consumption. He smirked. “Scared I know too much about you?” You were. You were terrified. This time you do lower your voice. “Just didn’t know you could actually read. Guess my notes were a great help after all.” You stuck your tongue out. For a second he thought about taking it in his mouth, probably some other filthier thoughts floated around his brain too. It was something about the proximity and the cocktails you’d shared, you could always blame those.
“Anything Tim Burton but her favourite would have to be the one with Winona,” he knows he has it right, but he just can’t think of the name, turning to you momentarily for help, you mouthed “Edward Scissorhands” before he nodded and repeated it. Considering it featured his own name, you’d think he would remember it. He then paused, not for dramatic effect but so he could smile to himself as he thought about why that was your favourite. “It depicts the whole Frankenstein’s monster thing just finding his way into suburbia but we as the audience” he gestured to his chest, “see a lot more heart than that, an innocent kind of love, one we all want to make us feel worthy, naive really, but ultimately sweet and sacrificing.”
You leant in, your lips close to his ear. “If we were really dating, you’d be getting your dick sucked so hard tonight.” It took every bone in his body not shut the evening down and carry you back to your hotel room with that false promise in mind. He instead tried to ignore the now throbbing sensation in his trousers. Had you always done that to him?
“Ok those are fairly standard.” In what world was his last answer not specifically catered to you? “How about a random trivia round?…” The suggestions just kept going. If this were the only worthy form of entertainment they could find, married life was going to be abysmal. “Or.” He began and this is when you really, really started to panic, like exponentially. There was nothing that could have helped him out now. Your notes only consisted of the likes, dislikes, and the fake scenario in which you first met. There was nothing else. That was the end of the script. He couldn’t be that good at improvisation. You didn’t want the opportunity to find out either. You were no casting director. He no longer had to impress you or anyone else. If they were still at odds with the situation then so be it. You couldn’t please everyone. It really shouldn’t have taken you that long to realise it. Huh. The more you know.
“I can tell you about how she makes me feel.” You really, truly would rather you didn’t know. If it’s the truth, it would hurt. If it was a lie, well that might hurt even more. You begged the universe to keep him quiet. Whatever he had to say was going to blow your cover and throw this whole shit show up in flames. Your sister seemed so keen and intrigued enough to let him continue. You however, said your final goodbyes to any future you had where you weren’t a laughing stock for the entire family. A future where Eddie Munson couldn’t reject and discard you publicly. Now it was a very real possibility, you were far more upset than you ever thought you would be. Eddie glances at you briefly, bucking up the courage to put on the biggest and most detrimental show of his entire life. 
He doesn’t face your sister when the words come tumbling from his mouth. He faced you, addressing you like he needed you to hear this and fuck, maybe he did. You actually felt touched about it until he opened his mouth. “You’re kind of a fucking weirdo.” You went to shut him up as the embarrassment crept in, but he spoke louder as he often did. “You are, you’re a freak- and it’s so, it’s refreshing.” Your mouth closed but oh, so slowly. You began to listen to him, decided to trust him. “You’re fucking nuts.” You rolled your eyes. How many ways were there, to describe you as crazy? Why did he feel the need to use all of them? “But I like it. I do. I feel like I can be myself around you.” He talked with his hands a lot as he scrambled the words, rings clinking against each other. You reached for them, settling them in your lap and he silently thanked you for it. Everything got a whole lot easier when you held his hand. 
“You make it feel okay to be a bit crazy. You don’t have to be so straight or basic, you can just, be.” Just as you started to smile, you saw that you weren’t the only one. It was working, his little speech was actually working. “I like who I am around you. Even if sometimes you don’t. I like that you tell me when I piss you off. I like that you act like you hate me when you don’t. I like that you’re so fucking stubborn and headstrong you’d never rely on anyone else and that pisses me off.” You felt tingling racing across your chest. “I love that no moment with you feels forced. That, that smile, right there could make flowers bloom.” He gestured to your face with both of your hands linked together. “That your glare could cause a fucking storm or something.” You tried not to get swept up in the fact he’d stopped saying ‘like.’ 
“I love that everything feels okay when your hand is in mine, even when you try and say you don’t like holding hands, you’re too good at it to hate it. You know exactly the right moments.” He shook his head with a disbelief. It started to feel so real. “I think I’d miss you even if I’d never met you.” His hand tightened around yours when he said his last sentence. “And I’m glad I met you. I hope one day you’ll be glad you met me too.” The rest of his speech hadn’t mattered when he uttered those words. The words that knocked the breath out of you, leaving you fighting for your life in the seat next to him. You don’t think anyone had ever referred to you so kindly in your life, even if he did call you fucking mental at least 5 times throughout. 
He couldn’t even breathe. He’d said it. He’d let it all out and now he just saw the look of shock on your face and couldn’t take a single breath, not knowing how you’d react. It was news to him too though. He could play it off as a lie, say he saw it in a movie, some chick flick or something. He’d copied it because of course he had. But then again, on the off chance you weren’t horrified, he wasn’t sure if he had any more guts left to tell you it was true. He just knew that he needed to do something. He had to fill this painful silence somehow and thankfully, he didn’t have to do it alone. 
You kissed him. You scraped your jaw off the floor, and you kissed him. You’d not kissed him like this before. Like your life depended on it. Like he was the very air you needed to breathe. Like he’d meant every word he’d just said, and you’d believed it. God you might have even felt the same. You were also slightly ashamed to say, it had your panties soaking between your thighs. Not to mention your heart thundering in your chest.
Eddie kissed you as if he were tattooing his words across your lips for all of eternity. Because for the first time throughout this whole charade, he was actually allowed to mean every word he had said, whether he knew this was how he was feeling at the start of the evening or not. Neither of you could have predicted a confession like this. Even after giving one, he wasn’t quite believing it himself. But fuck, there was freedom in it. There was a lovely form of permanence. Him knowing his words were out there for the universe to take and make with what it will. He felt weightless. It wasn’t the cocktails. Something just clicked in his brain, and he knew it. You were everything.
You melted into each other when his lips found yours. It was sweet and slow but confident, with purpose. Each stroke of his lips against yours carefully considered and carried out like clockwork. You’d felt a rush from this kiss. It was hungrier than any other you’d shared. Quite frankly it was starved. You’d pressed up against him so hard and he’d done just the same to you. His hands coming up to tilt your chin up towards him for more. As if you hadn’t been close enough already. Its only when you gasped at his touch did he slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew he’d had so much practice kissing women like this, but you couldn’t care. You allowed him inside, welcomed the way he licked into your mouth delicately. Blissfully enjoying the taste of his last cigarette on his breath, shocked that it’s not even a put off for you right now.
His words had gotten you drunker than the cocktails you’d been knocking back all evening. You almost whined when he dragged himself away from you. It was way too premature for your liking. Your eyes remained on him and only him as your hands fell back from their place atop his shoulders. You weren’t even sure when they’d gotten there in the first place, just swept away with nothing but him to guide you. 
He smiled at you; a smile you know he hadn’t been pretending. You were about to lean back in, sealing that gap between you, before you were reminded of exactly where you were. In public. Very much in public. You sank back into your seat sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks, burning hot like lava ready to erupt. Eddie threw his arm around you, and you seized the opportunity to hide your face in the crook of his neck out of embarrassment. He thought it might be the cutest thing you could possibly have done. He even struggled to wipe the blush off his own cheeks. He felt like a school boy again. “Okay, fine, we believe you.” Your sister threw her hands up in defeat. You’d forgotten what you were even aiming to prove, your head was so flooded with hormones. It remained that way until you were back inside the hotel.
-
Back in the safety of your room, deep in the darkness, the only light being from the glowing orange streetlights outside, you found yourself nervous for what would come next. You needed a moment to think. “I’m going to take a shower.” You said softly. “Do you mind?” He shook his head, unable to speak. You’d think that after he’d already lay everything down on the table, that he’d find it easier to approach you, but he resorted back to silence. “Go ahead.” He offered. You wanted to ask him to join you. You didn’t. You just thought about it while you locked the bathroom door behind you. When you wiped off your makeup. When you turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before stripping and stepping inside. You thought about it even under the water, arm stretched out to reach you shampoo. You still didn’t.
He’s already tucked away under the sheets, while you’re in there. He thought about falling asleep, willing himself into a trance before you could return, he couldn’t. His mind was swimming with thoughts. He instead insured that the wall of cushions you’d built on night one, was as high as it ever was. There to wedge a distance between you once more. Which is what you wanted, right? It was your main housekeeping rule for sharing a bed.
“Hey." He breathed, as you returned from the bathroom, steam seeping out after you. He was nervous. You ignored it. He lay flat, facing the ceiling, his arms fastened at his sides above the covers. You shouldn’t let your eyes wander but the light had given you a clear path to follow, leading you to the tattooed arachnid of his chest. You wanted to touch it, you’re not sure why. You slipped silently into bed beside him, only you turned your back on him, willing the conversation to end. But you didn’t actually want it to be over. 
He rolled over without so much as a creak being made on the old bed. He barely even tugged the cover from you. It’s like a move too sudden would spook you and send you running, it might have, he couldn’t be certain. “Do you think the great wall of prevention might be ready to come down?” He nudged it into your back for emphasis. He didn’t want the night to end. You didn’t either. And yet, your stomach twisted to think of an excuse, a reason for it to stay very much where it was. Only you didn’t find one. “Okay.” You spoke softly. “Okay.” He repeats just as low, just making sure. You hardly felt him moving them. It was so unlike him to be so gentle, so light handed, treading carefully. He was so cautious and calculated, you never thought he had it in him. The cushions were gone. Now what?
“I’m gonna ask you something, you don’t have to say yes, but I really need to ask it so please just hear me out.” There were a million different things he could have asked you; you’d never have enough time to predict it or rehearse the correct answer, you could only breathe as you anticipated it. “Can I hold you?” It felt good to say it, even if his breath was shaky and his heart felt like it might just pack in. He really wanted to touch you. That was before he even saw you there, lay in the warm glow of the light, hair still a little damp, loose over your shoulder, your t-shirt clinging to your body.
The sheets weren’t covering your lower half as well as you’d thought they were, not now the barrier between you was down. Now he could see the lace band of your panties peeking bellow your sleep shorts. He was about to abandon the whole ordeal. Just a peek shouldn’t have been enough to stir him between his legs and maybe it wasn’t, not on its own. But if he’d counted every other occasion tonight where you’d looked too pretty, sounded too sweet, it all added up and he guessed it contributed to the problem. 
He started to worry when you didn’t answer him. You obviously weren’t asleep. You were clearly fiddling with the sheets, your fingers tugged at the material anxiously. He’d completely overstepped, he should have expected that. You weren’t together. You wouldn’t ever be together. That was all this entire weekend was supposed to be after all. Just an opportunity to fake it. How could he be so stupid? “Come here.” He looks down to see you half turned back to him, the duvet lifted, giving him even more of a view of your shorts, but he tried not to look at you too much. To just see the invitation, which was what mattered the most. 
He wasn’t sure how to approach, you couldn’t help him either. You would spoon, that was a given, you hadn’t budged your position, left him no choice but to mould his body around yours. He shuffled closer, awkwardly trying to stretch his right arm underneath your pillow without lifting your head, hurting your neck. He curled around your back, leaving inches between you, like he couldn’t quite make himself grow any closer. His left arm rested on his own hip, too afraid to reach out and touch yours. He’d asked to hold you. Why can’t he hold you? 
You took matters into your own hands. You blindly reached behind you, hands finding his. Your one superpower. You interlock your fingers with his and bring his arm around your waist, the heat of his body coming with it. You could probably feel his heart pounding chest now he allowed it to press against your back. You definitely felt the goosebumps climbing his arms when you pressed a feather light kiss to his knuckle. His heart leapt in his chest.
“What was that for?” He lifted his head, you don’t know it, but he can see enough of your face from this angle to catch the blush on your cheeks and the smile that crept onto it. He’s reassured by it. “Just felt like it.” You shrugged. Only he doesn’t buy it, but he won’t push his luck. His head hit the pillow, only this time, he’s closer to you. His nose is nearly buried in your apple scented locks. You were so sweet smelling at all times, but that apple was just so incredibly you. He knew you’d only used the stuff because it came in a green bottle too. Because only you would map your product selection on the colour alone. It was one of the first facts in your note cards, that your favourite colour was green.
Fuck. He thinks. He really fucking liked you. He wouldn’t even curse himself for it. You weren’t what he expected, and he liked that. He liked that this didn’t go to plan. He liked that he couldn’t pretend any longer. He was grinning to himself, chuckling even. He boldly buried his head in the crook of your neck like he’d done a couple of times that night but more invasively now there wasn’t much space between you. 
“What’s so funny?” You shook his hand in yours. “Hmm?” You fought a laugh yourself; his laughter was infectious; it was just stupid and cute and stupid. “Gareth was right.” He said. You turned your head back slightly, unable to see anything really, before giving up and leaning into the pillow again. “Bout what?” He leaned his head on your shoulder, lips nearing your ear. “Told me this wouldn’t work.” Interesting really, since he ushered you into asking him into this at the start. You’re suitably confused. He’s holding you, giggling in your ear, body warm against yours in this stupidly large bed that he’d made feel tiny, after convincing your family how in love you are, and he said it wasn’t working. That Gareth, your biggest influencer, had also predicted it. Well, you’d have said the opposite. 
“This isn’t working.” You have a questioning tone. “Didn’t seem like that downstairs.” You were defensive, rightly so. “No, not like that.” He started. Your grip on his hand loosened and he panicked. ‘Just say what you mean, say what you mean,’ he tells himself. “Turn over.” He leant himself up, still firmly on his side. “Why?” He rolled his eyes. “Please turn over.” He pleaded. “Whyy?” You say again. “Fuck, would you just-“ he shook his hand free from yours, placing it firmly on your hip and he twisted you, so you were flat on your back, facing up at him with surprise. He didn’t expect that to work as well as it did.
“You’re so fucking annoying.” He huffed. “Thanks.” Your arms crossed over your stomach, you tried to avoid his gaze, but he manoeuvred himself so that he was directly above you. He decided you couldn’t be trusted to keep you gaze anywhere but on him. You had to give him a shot. Your expression had softened at the sight of him. Just like he’d hoped. His stupid round cheeks. The dumb smile. Why was he always smiling? 
“I wanna kiss you.” He said. You thought he was childish. “Is holding not enough?” He shook his head. “Never enough.” He leaned in close, but he doesn’t kiss you, not yet. His forehead just pressed against yours, his lips hovered, breath tickling your own mouth. “Can I?” He begged for it. “Yes.” You breathed. He does. His lips brush yours and it’s just as nice as every other kiss he’d given you. You’re not sure why you expected it to be different all of a sudden. You just had the idea that maybe it would be. Now that you, well now that you actually liked it.
But it wasn’t different, it was exactly the same. “Eddie.” You whined. “Yeah?” He was upset that you’d interrupted such a crucial moment. “It doesn’t feel like I thought it would.” Your fingers stroked over his cheek; he arched a brow to question you. “We have kissed before; you remember that right?” He teased. You couldn’t have been that drunk. “Yes. Shut up. That’s not what I meant.” He’s still not on the same page although relieved somewhat that you were in fact sober like he thought.
In his mind that kiss was perfect, electrifying, mind blowing, the best kiss yet, you’d have known it too if you didn’t stop him so quickly. “What’s it feel like?” He tried to understand. You thought for a moment. What did it feel like? Warm, soft, sweet, he was one of the sweetest tastes. Where most men would taste of mint, Eddie didn’t. He tasted like cigarettes and the kiwi and strawberry gum he chewed to mask the scent of them on his breath. It didn’t work completely, it more meshed together into its own unique flavour.
It felt nice. “Feels normal.” You said it like it was a bad thing and he can’t understand why. “What’s so wrong with that?” You tried to shake your head. Shake some sense into yourself. You were blowing it. “Kiss me again.” You didn’t have to ask him twice. He pushed his lips against yours, harder than the first time, much harder. Barely leaving a gap between you. Suffocating you with his kiss. He feels like this time he has to try harder; he needed to give you his all. There had to be more. 
His lips glided over yours, his lips rough but still careful. His tongue poking out slowly, licking gently over your bottom lip. You part it instinctively and the second his tongue slithered across your teeth, you finally felt it. You don’t know why it took you till the second try. You’re so grateful you felt it at all, but you were panicking for a second, thinking you’d made this huge mistake because how could you let yourself fall for him after all this nonsense? Then you felt it, that spark kicking you to life. That fire in your belly, burning you up inside, begging for his coolness to dampen it down. You fucking needed him.
Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails tucking into them just a little. He’s feeling the heat radiating from you, your energy pouring into him. He’s smiling against your mouth as your tongue meets his briefly. He just knows that this time, he’s got you. “You had me worried there for a second.” He panted, not wanting to pull away but needing to say something. You kissed him over and over, distracting him. Now you’d started, you couldn’t stop. “I know, I’m so cruel.” He smirked, kissing you back just as vigorously, hand coming to your throat, resting gently on it before tilting your chin up towards him.
You captured his eyes, so dark, nearing black in the dim light. If it weren’t for the golden flecks you’d be convinced they really were that dark. “Had to be sure.” He pecked your lips. “Yeah?” You did the same. “Yeah.” He’s so close that every time his eyes closed and reopened, you felt his lashes fanning your cheeks. “And now?” He asked so hopefully, heart on the line as he waited on your answer. You wanted to make him wait, torture him a little, not tonight, tonight you were kind enough to put him out of his misery. “Now I want you.” You said. He could have punched the air with excitement. 
You’re kissing again. Scrambling around, his body lowered on top of you, one hand resting on your cheek, the other grazing your hip bone. His body shuddered when you whimpered under the weight of him. You let your legs widen as he slipped between them, all before he lifted your thigh, depositing it safely around his waist. You prayed that he didn’t immediately feel the dampness in your shorts but you’re not the only one struggling.
His hard on rubbed into you, your lips parting with surprise. “Fuck.” He muttered, momentarily halting your make out session, the heat between your thighs overwhelming him. You sensed his embarrassment, his cheeks burning with it. “Me too.” You breathed. Lips pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose as your hand slipped between you, coming down to cup his bulge boldly through his shorts. 
The groan he released is sinful, maybe even painful. He felt big. He felt impossibly big. He wouldn’t fit in your hand, maybe not even in the two of them. He thrust into your hand when he felt you touch him. It was his first instinct; he couldn’t fight it. “Shit, sorry.” You caught his lips, tugging his bottom one between your teeth, releasing it slowly. “Gonna move my hand, want you to do it again.” If he thought he was embarrassed at his neediness before, it was about to get a whole lot more mortifying. 
Your hand moved away, he was grinding his hips down into you as you’d asked, and you felt the way his cock jumped into action. “Baby.” You panted. He’s sure his heart is going to explode, maybe his cock too, probably that first. “Say it again.” He needed it. “Baby.” You kissed him. He’s rocking his hips into you, you started rotating your own, rubbing yourself over his cock, hand moving out of the way. “Baby, baby, fuck.” He’s covered your lips with his, nose mashed up against you, you can’t breathe, you don’t even want to, you wouldn’t miss the feeling. All of this felt so much more important. “Feel so good.” You whine. He never would have thought you’d be so vocal. You didn’t seem like the type. Thought you’d be a bit of a brat maybe but not this, not confident and sexy and so sure of what you wanted. He could love that; he could love you. 
“More, need more.” You’re eyes rolled back when he’s lifting your hips with both hands, pulling your core over him. His cock slipping through your folds through too many barriers of clothing. “Shit Ed.” You felt the sensation of fire burning into you, setting you alight. You’re dizzy and hot and you just felt so good against him. The friction of his shorts might have been frustrating, but it was also, so rewarding. It was such a good roughness against your clothed mound. “Are you?” He can’t even say it, too busy dragging you over his cock. “I’m, fuck, Eddie.” He doesn’t stop, not for a second, not for a beat. He makes you ride it out. He’s so stupidly proud of himself. He’d barely touched you and you’d come undone. You’d actually fucking came. “Fucking unreal for me.” He slowed himself down before he followed a similar path to destruction. 
He’s pushing your hips back down, letting your body sink into the mattress, pulling away from you to catch a breath. “I can’t believe that.” Your hand floats through your hair combing it back. He’s resting back on his knees, still between your legs. “You’re so fucking hot.” His eyes don’t look anywhere but your face. Your shirt is half way up your chest, bare tits poking out for him to see and yet, he doesn’t look.
You can’t say you share the same sentiment. Your eyes raced to the outline of his erection in them grey basketball shorts. You drank in the sight before you and your teeth clamped down into your lower lip. He reached down to squeeze your thigh. “My eyes are up here.” He gestured with his index and middle finger. You smirked up at him. “Kind of wish they weren’t.” You didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” You nodded. Eyes falling back to his very, large problem that he now palmed through his clothing. Shit, even his own hand wouldn’t cover him.
“Gonna keep looking or do you feel like helping?” His voice was awfully steady for someone ready to come apart at the mere thought of your touch. “You want me to?” You’re not sure what you’re asking. “Need you to.” He said. You sat yourself up. “Gonna take this shirt off me first?” You looked up at him, eyes wider than he’d ever seen, somehow so innocent even though you were anything but. “Of course, I am.” His hands didn’t waste any time lifting the material off over your head. You felt the bite of a chill rush over you, your nipples hardening, perking up with it. “So, very, sexy.” He can’t believe his luck. You’re amazed that you don’t feel shy, being so exposed to him. Guess that was good, it felt natural, you felt safe. 
“Gonna help you.” You warned, hands slipping down into his shorts. You gasped at the immediate contact with his bare skin. “No underwear.” He smirked down at you. “Fucking slut.” Your hand cupped him just like before, yeah, definitely needs more than one hand. “You love it.” He chanted “I do.” You confirmed, squeezing him hard. The rush of air that left his mouth, oh it made this all so worth it. You tried to be bolder, you took his length in your palm for the first time. You gripped him tight and moaned in unison. He moaned at the feeling of finding home in your soft touch. You moaned; at the way your hand can’t even wrap around him fully. He’s too thick, too girthy, there wasn’t enough of you to take it all. 
“Do something.” He urged, forehead leaning on yours for stability more than anything else. “Ah right, that’s what I was doing.” You play as you sprang to action, your hand lifting to the throbbing head of his cock, letting the trickles of beaded cum roll into your palm before you can cover him in it using it whilst you twist your hand up and down his length. “Ohh, fuck.” It came out gravelly. He’d never thought much of hand jobs, said no to many throughout his life, never being worth the time, never feeling as good as his own hand. This though. You. Your hand. You touched him and he swore your hand was made to hold his cock. Even if that sounded ridiculous, there had to be some way of it being true because he felt so good. His cock was slick and hot, it glided through your grip with ease and your tightened fist on him, it was incredible.
You knew to tug him hard at the base, to loosen around his tip. To constantly use his pooling arousal to your advantage. You worked his cock better than anyone else could, maybe even better than him. You weren’t rushing, you didn’t wank him hard begging for it all to be over, getting bored of the feeling. No, you just touched him. Switching your pace. Listening to his hot little sounds. Paying attention to what made him twitch, what made him rut his hips into your palm. You loved touching him, you wanted to touch him forever, every which way you could. 
He started fucking your hand. He’s not sure he can stop himself and you’re so turned on by it you actually moan. “What are you doing to me?“ He’d never felt like this before. You’d made him so weak. He was desperately thrusting into your fist like a pathetic little virgin, and you were moaning. He had to be making this up, you weren’t real, none of this could have been real. “Fuck Ed.” You’re soaked at the idea of it all, you even clenched down on fucking nothing, the thought of him inside you instead of just the palm of your hand, it’s too much to bear. “Need to fuck me.” You quicken your pace, your hand tugging at him desperately. “Fuck, fuck. Stop, you gotta stop.” He doesn’t want you to, God knows he doesn’t, but if you don’t, he’s gonna fucking bust all over your perfect little hand. 
He forced your hand out of his shorts and you have the audacity to pout up at him when he does. “You’re something fucking else.” He pushed you back, your head drops happily onto your pillow. “Something good I hope.” You toyed with him, and he is about to lose it. “Take these off.” He tugged at your own shorts, and you didn’t budge. “Off.” He commands, climbing off the bed, feet hitting the cold wooden floor of the hotel room. 
You shifted behind him, pulling your shorts and panties down your thighs, tossing the material to the general vicinity of your shirt. Your hands are once again in your hair, combing through it with nerves just eating away at you. You ached for him. Your thighs were squeezed so tightly shut you thought he might never pry them open again. You were on edge, literally dying there waiting. He’d dropped his shorts; they’d hit the ground quietly. He stepped out of them quickly, hand lifting to touch himself, he let out a quiet hiss when he did. He was so turned on, cock so tight and hot in his hand, he’d bury himself in you and never wish to leave. 
He climbed back onto the bed, settling on his knees like he had before. His hand rolled delicately across his tip, soaking himself still, using his own arousal to ready himself for you. His cock had a wet sheen in the light. You thought it looked even more delicious now with a coating like that. Perhaps your legs would part after all. “You sure?” He thinks he knows your answer, but he’d hate himself if he didn’t check. This had all been so perfect, better than he could have ever imagined because God, his imagination wasn’t half as creative enough to make you up. You were far better than anyone he’d ever known. The more he knew you, the better you got. Each and every layer, prettier or wittier or more perfect. You must have been real. Real and a gift made just for him because you had him hook line and sinker. He was dumb to credit himself for thinking he imagined you a few moments ago.
“Fuck me.” You spoke. He shook his head. Leaning over you, tip throbbing hard when it breached your walls for the first time before making a heady retreat, running through your slick, wet, lips instead. “Can’t.” He said. Running his cock up and down, eyes flickering shut, throat drying with his pure fucking thirst for you. “Why not?” You furrowed your brow. He’s right there, all he had to do was enter you. You could just lift your hips and he’d slip his fat cock inside. “Can’t call this fucking, not when you feel this good.” You think you might have passed out when pushed inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” He covered your lips to catch your moan. He didn’t think about the fact he’d be sinking in further, bottoming out, pelvis to pelvis with you when he did. 
Your legs wrapped around him so tightly your heels began to dig into his tasty, round backside. You fasten him in place intentionally. You needed to feel him. Needed to feel him in his entirety, pulsing inside you. He bit down on your shoulder till he tasted a metal zing of fresh blood, he’d apologise at a later date. For now, he needed it. You were sopping wet around him, engulfing his cock in a warm, tight sleeve. With each breath you took he slipped a little bit further inside. You felt so full you’d felt him bulging in your stomach, so far inside you it even hurt you.
“I need to move, gotta let me move.” He locked eyes with you before you nodded, loosening your legs, letting him withdraw his hips, pulling right back away from you, tip nearly leaving the crevice of your wetness. Then he pushed back in, all the way, hips against hips and you fucking moaned. You moaned so loud he thought he hurt you, ready to withdraw and panic at that thought. But then you lifted your hips to meet his. You meet his next thrust and then the next, and the next. You don’t let him do a damn thing without your involvement. You needed to be in this together because what’s the fucking point if you can’t give each other your all? 
“You’re so wet, soaking me.” You can only sigh, you’re not sorry, he got you so damn good he ought to be proud. “So damn hot. Gonna need to change the fucking sheets.” He rambled on. His hands dig delicious bite marks into your hips. Yours place a similar attack atop his shoulders. “Feel unreal.” You captured his lips in a needy kiss, chest pushing up as your back arched involuntarily. “Very real, so fucking real.” You muttered. As your back arched further, Eddie found a place within you, a sensitive spot he angled into unexpectedly. A place you’d only ever touched yourself. You shook, and you clenched down on him, hard. 
He’d be an idiot not to notice it. You were clamping down so much he worried he’d lose circulation all together. “You want me dead don’t you?” He slammed his hips down into you. “Won’t be happy till I’m not fit for anyone else, that it?” His chest flattened against yours, his cock reaching that angle even more intrusively than before and you’re about to scream for it.
He’s got so much pressure leaning against it you’re about to crumble and he doesn’t even know it. “Eddie.” You panicked, hands snaking into his hair, tugging his brown ringlets. He couldn’t get any closer to you and yet you needed it, wanted him covering you. “Fuck, you’re, fuck are you cumming?“ He leaned his head back, looking down into your eyes, you have tears brimming in them and he can’t believe it, he was so right. “Please, please don’t stop.” Your voice came out so weak, soft, precious, and broken and he thought you sounded like a needy little princess when you begged for him like that. “Anything, anything for you.” He meant it too. 
His hand wrapped around your throat loosely and tenderly as he coaxed your second orgasm from you. Your scream caught in your throat. He kissed you hard, breathing life erratically back into you. The way you tightened around his cock has his eyes roll back into his skull, his teeth biting down hard on your plump, cherry lips. He’s so close to cumming himself, but he will not let himself go until you’ve done it first. He had to make it through. He had to feel the way you came around his dick for the first time. Needed it imbedded in his brain as the religious experience it certainly felt like it would be.
“Eddie, Eddie,” you’re not even aware you’re yelling his name out there. You just do it. That’s what gets him in the end. Your pretty little voice wrapping around his name, securing the idea that he was in fact the guy who’d made you crumble into a mess in these sheets, twice. It was all him. “Where, fuck, where do you-“ he can’t even say it, can’t get the words out. “In me, need it in me, please baby.” 
He did as you asked, his hips pulsing into you, cock sputtering, leaking his hot cum inside you. You felt it all. Deep inside, covering you, damning you. You were claimed from the inside out. There wasn’t a single piece of you that wasn’t marked as his now. If you hadn’t felt full before, you certainly did now. His cum filling you entirely, anything his cock couldn’t previously reach was now pressured by him cum flooding inside you and it was so unbelievably good. You sighed heavily at the thought of it. “So, fucking good.” You muttered. Him filling you was just so erotic to you. He’d felt exactly the same because of course he did, he was made for you. He loved that you’d let him take you like that. It felt heavenly pouring himself into you, coating you in his colours. Pulling out might just be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. 
His body covered yours. He’s no strength to hold himself above you, but no way of pulling away just yet. You’d not minded his weight at all. You’d actually enjoyed it, felt comforted by it. Even if your bodies were sweat soaked and desperately in need of another shower, it felt nothing but perfect lying here a little longer. Your fingers massaged into his scalp, he hummed at the relief of your touch. His breathing slowed down, softly blowing over your chest where his head lay comfortably.
You decided you loved the sound of him breathing. You can’t explain exactly why that is, but it offered you some kind of comforting stimulation that you think you’d listen to happily for hours. The mere existence of him, being enough to soothe you. “So that, uh-“ he licked his bottom lip, wetting the dryness there. “That happened.” You heart leaped and you know he felt it. “Don’t make it weird.” You nearly begged. “I’m not making it weird.” You poked his head. “You’re making it weird.” You accused, poking him again. “Would you stop?”
He lifted his head this time to avoid another attack. Well fuck. If he thought you looked beautiful before, it had nothing on the way you looked now. You were flustered and tired, your eyes wet with tears and probably sweat and yet, gorgeous. “You’re staring.” He hated you. “I can’t stop.” He’s lying. He could, he just never wanted to. “What will people think?” You gasped. “How will we tell them?” He continued, following your train of thought like he’d conjured it himself.
“Well, what do we actually have to tell? You know, to get our story straight.” He knew that was your not-so-subtle way of asking what you were, after all of this, but he doesn’t mind it because he’d also liked to know. As cliché as it was. It really did happen that fast. “Well,” he rubbed your cheek with the back of his hand, watching as your face leaned into his touch. “Your family think we’re in love so, that’s kind of handled.” You laughed. “That you’re way of confessing your love for me?” You dig with a smile. “No.” Yes. But it was way too soon to verbalise that. Sure, you’d known him for a while, but this weekend was the closest you’d ever been. And yeah, he may have felt it in his bones, but he wasn’t crazy enough to admit it to you. Jesus Christ. “So, it’s just, everyone else.” He nodded, then repeated after you. “Everyone else.” Easier said than done. 
“What if I uh, slip you another 200?” He rolled his eyes. Only you would ask that. “Oh, because I haven’t whored myself out enough?” You grinned. “Well, if the shoe fits baby.” He nudged your nose with his own. “No but seriously, what would 200 get me?” You tried to deadpan but the smile refused to leave you. “I’m refunding it by the way.” You feigned shock. “My money not good enough for you Munson?” He looked at you with a ‘you really asking me that?’ look on his face. Though technically, you hadn’t actually given the money to him yet. “Only asked for it because I knew it’d piss you off sweetheart.” That hadn’t surprised you at all. “I dragged my ass to the bank for nothing.” He thought he might howl with laughter. 
“You got cash out?” There he goes, those chubby fucking cheeks, the crinkling eyes. “You actually withdrew 200 bucks for me?” You wanted the bed to swallow you whole. “I DON’T EXACTLY HAVE YOUR BANK DETAILS EDWARD!” You yelled and he laughed harder, nearly rolling off you all together until he remembered he was still very much inside of you. “I’m so fucking dumb.” You face palmed with the embarrassment of it all. “You kinda are.” He agreed. He knew you’d hate his lack of support. “I like em dumb though.” He also knew he deserved the flick you gave him. “We’ll get you to the bank tomorrow, don’t you worry babe.” This time you didn’t flick him. “Not going anywhere tomorrow.” You sighed, arms wrapping around him. His stomach fluttered when you held him like that. “Why, what you got planned?“ He nuzzled his face happily into your breast, his spare hand squishing the other nicely. “Gonna get my fucking money’s worth that’s what.” 
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