#Cause I had that thought like three times
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𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 ─ PB⁵
౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige x iowa!reader (pre-relationship) on game day where maybe r is mic'd up the whole time so fans hear how they flirt, joke around, etc so they start shipping them? the other uconn/iowa girlies always tease them abt it and one night they all go out to a bar tg and someones on live and accidentally catches p and r against a wall kissing or smthn 🫣" for my lovely disco nonnie!
─ word count | 2.6k
─ warnings | teasing, lots and LOTS of teasing, mention of injuries, so much flirting, teasing, slightly suggestive, kissing.... oh and did i mention teasing????
─ taglist | guys idk why my taglist isn't working pls help me and lmk
─ ev's notes | okay so i want to know if yall like the little comment section i put in some of the posts, because i love doing them and i wanna know what ur thoughts are.
"OKAY, HEY LADIES and gents. It's your favorite, me. Y/N L/N," you tried to whisper into the mic secretively as you looked around. Before you could continue talking, you felt Caitlin grab your shoulders and shake you, eliciting a yelp from you.
You sent her a glare as she giggled and walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyways, sorry for that stupid interruption. It's game day here at Iowa and we're going against... I don't even remember their names."
You were obviously joking, you had plenty of friends on the UConn basketball team and it was running joke that you didn't like them. You smirked into the camera, knowing full well that your faux ignorance would rile up some competition.
"But hey, who needs names when we've got game, am I right?" You grinned, your enthusiasm showing. "So, while we prepare to show those other guys what real basketball looks like, let's talk strategy."
Leaning in closer to the microphone, you adopted a more serious tone, though the mischievous glint in your eye remained. "First off, we gotta dominate the boards. Rebounds win games, folks. Then, we'll run those fast breaks like there's no tomorrow. Speed kills, baby."
You paused for dramatic effect, pretending to adjust an imaginary headset. "And of course, let's not forget about defense. Lock 'em down, make 'em work for every shot. That's how we do it here at Iowa."
You turned around to see some of your teammates giggling at you, causing you to roll your eyes. "I'm getting bullied again, guys. Remember amazing, hot and very cool players have feelings too, okay?"
"Can you shut the hell up and come stretch with us?" You heard Caitlin shout from the court, causing you to sigh dramatically.
With a playful wink at the camera, you turned away, joining your teammates on the court for the pre-game warm-up. As you stretched and bantered with them, you saw the opponents walk in. You couldn't help but bit your lower lip as you averted your gaze from a particular blonde whom you've gotten close to these last couple of months.
After last year's game, Paige followed you on Instagram and you began talking more. However when you two got injured around the same time, it caused you two to talk more and form a closer bond. Eventually, it turned into Paige texting and calling you every single day and now, it's like you two have known each other your entire lives despite you guys seeing each other face to face three times.
You couldn't help but steal glances at her as you stretched, a small smile playing on your lips whenever your eyes met. The familiar banter and teasing between your teams seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn to her presence.
But amidst the closeness, there lingered an unspoken tension ─ a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach whenever Paige's eyes met yours, or the way your heart raced whenever she flashed you a smile.
Caitlin's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. "Yo, Y/N! Focus up, we've got a game to win!"
"Oh my gosh, look it's serious Caitlin I'm so scared," you spoke into the mic quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear you. Unfortunately, she did and she got up, holding up her hand as you put your hands over your head. "No, I'm sorry!"
Caitlin laughed at your antics, her laughter infectious as she waved off your dramatic apology. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Y/N," she teased, giving you a playful shove before turning back to the team. "But seriously, let's focus up. We've got a game to win, and I don't plan on losing to those guys."
"Yeah, me neither." She helped you get up from the floor as you walked to the bench. "Thanks, Cait," you said with a grin, falling into step beside her as you made your way to the bench.
As you settled onto the bench, you took a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the game ahead. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, the echoing noise of the crowd, and the anticipation building in the air all served to fuel your determination.
You rose to your feet, eyes fixed on the court ahead. With a quick glance at the UConn's lineup, you immediately spotted Paige among their starting players. Your heart rate quickened slightly as you realized the task at hand — you needed to guard Paige and shut down her scoring opportunities.
In any other situation, it would be easy. Even if the person you were guarding was someone you were friends with, you always made sure to stay professional but this was slightly different. Paige had been the theoretical shoulder you'd been crying on for the last year about your injury that you'd just healed from.
As you stepped onto the court, Caitlin's words from earlier echoed in your mind. You couldn't afford to let Paige get the better of you, not today. You made your way toward Paige and as she met your eyes, she gave you a small smile. You could still talk to her, right? She held out her hand for a quick dap-up and you accepted it gratefully.
"Bro, me and Nika were just talking about how your hair is probably gonna be perfect. You have the best game day hair," Paige spoke finally as you laughed nervously, your gaze momentarily averting to the floor then back to her.
You felt yourself blush under her gaze as you playfully brushed off the compliment. "Oh, you think so, huh?" you smiled, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well, what can I say? Gotta look good for the cameras,"
Paige smirked in response. "Oh, trust me, you always do," she teased, her words laced with a playful flirtation that made your heart skip a beat.
You looked into Paige's eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that washed over you. There was something about her presence, her easy smile, that made you feel at ease, even in the midst of a game.
"Says you, with your cute braids. You gotta teach me how to do those one day, you know." You playfully nudged Paige's shoulder, a smile spreading across your face."Now you're just showing off," you teased, your tone light and playful as you admired the braids that framed Paige's face.
Paige chuckled, a soft sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Or I can just do them for you once you actually visit Connecticut, like you promised."
You just realized that you were mic'd up, as you glanced down at the mic. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Alright, alright, you've got yourself a deal," you replied with a playful wink.
You then felt Kate's hand tap on your shoulder, motioning for you to come to the bench with her. Paige gave you a small smile as she did the same, your heart fluttering at the sight of her smile. With one last glance at Paige, filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you followed Kate to the bench.
"Are you gonna lock in, Y/N?" Caitlin's voice rang out as you glanced up at the tall brunette. You saw the slight smirk on her lips as she gazed at you, teasing you without saying anything. She was practically screaming "you're whipped!" as she did.
"Yeah, I'm locked in," you responded as you averted your gaze, laughter echoing in between your teammates as a blush covered your cheeks.
"You know, cus if you're not, I can guard Paige while you go shoot-"
"Oh shut up, Caitlin I hate you." You groaned, causing her to laugh along with the rest of the team. Caitlin's teasing banter was a familiar part of the pre-game ritual, and despite your protest, you couldn't help but smile at her antics.
"Hey, just looking out for you, Y/N," she teased, her tone lighthearted as she flashed you a grin.
As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, you shook off any lingering distractions and locked into the moment. This was it the moment you had been waiting for. With a deep breath, you blocked out the noise of the crowd and zeroed in on the game plan.
At one point, as you and Paige push for position under the basket, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Paige jokingly accused you of stealing her post moves. "Hey, imitation is a form of flattery, right?" you quipped, earning a playful shove from Paige in response.
But perhaps the most memorable moment came when you and Paige found yourselves face-to-face during a heated confrontation for the ball. With the game hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but exchange a playful smirk with Paige, feeling a slight warmth on your cheeks.
Iowa had ultimately won the game but there was no bad blood between the two teams (thankfully), players from both teams exchanged handshakes and congratulatory words, acknowledging the hard-fought battle that had unfolded on the court.
Sure, some of the players were a little hurt but it wasn't like it was the end of the world. However, you knew at some point the two teams would have to play against each other during play-offs but you didn't let yourself get too worried right now. Right now, it was important to savor the moment, to celebrate the hard-fought victory with your teammates and bask in the camaraderie of the game.
──
"You looked good," Paige spoke as she leaned against the wall of the bar. Some of the girls on the team wanted to go out and celebrate and the UConn girls wanted to join. And that was how you found yourself standing next to Paige, a little tipsy as you leaned against the wall beside her, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks at her compliment.
"Thanks, you too," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You felt yourself shy away from her gaze, a stark contrast to how you usually were ─ teasing and outgoing.
Paige noticed that quickly, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she took a tip of her drink. "Aw, look at you, all flustered," she teased, her tone light and teasing as she nudged your shoulder gently.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you replied, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Gotta stay humble, right?"
Paige laughed, the sound sweet and infectious as she leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, I think you can handle it," she said with a smirk, her words sending a shiver down your spine.
She gazed at you for a little longer as you looked away, only for her to grab your chin and hold it so that you kept looking at her. With a soft chuckle, Paige leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You're cute when you're flustered,"
"I never thought that you could be shy, you know... with all that shit-talking on and off the court." Paige remarked as she let go of your chin, her gaze still heavy on you. "It's kinda giving me an ego boost,"
"Oh shut up," you mumbled as you took a sip from your own drink, Paige's gaze following your lips. There was something about the way she looked at you, the way her eyes seemed to linger on your lips, that made your heart race.
As you lowered your drink, you met Paige's gaze once more, a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied with a smirk.
Paige chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I know," she teased, her voice low and teasing as she leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in her eye.
She wasn't usually ever this cocky, sure she's had her moments but never to this extent ─ she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just you. There was something about her self-assured demeanor that was both enticing and captivating, drawing you in with each exchanged word and shared laugh.
"Well, aren't you just full of yourself tonight?" you teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer to her.
"Can you blame me?" Paige replied with a grin, her confidence unwavering as she met your gaze. "I mean, if you had a pretty girl getting flustered over every word you say, even after her beat team yours, you'd be feeling pretty confident too," she continued, her playful tone tinged with a hint of desire as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath grazing your skin.
"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing as you leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in your eye. "But just remember, I'm not one to stay flustered for long."
With a playful smile, she leaned in closer to you. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to enjoy a challenge."
Her eyes kept flickering down to your lips as she downed her drink, putting it down on the table next to you. She leaned in closer, as if to test the water, grazing her lips against yours as your breath hitched.
She took your reaction as a yes, her hands finding your hips as she pushed you against the wall. She pushed her lips into yours in a hurried kiss, the intensity of her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.
You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as you pulled her closer, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the moment. With a sense of urgency, Paige deepened the kiss, her hands exploring the contours of your body with hunger.
The taste of her lips was intoxicating, a heady mix of alcohol and longing that left you breathless. You forgot all about your teammates and who might see this and recognize the two of you, because neither of you really cared anymore.
Jada drank her water as she kept skimming through the comments of the live, reading them and chuckling at every remark toward you and Paige. Kate was behind her, momentarily blocking from everyone seeing what you two were currently up to.
Kate heard someone call her name as she quickly got up from her spot, turning to respond to the voice. As she moved away, the brief obstruction she provided from prying eyes was gone, leaving you and Paige momentarily exposed.
As Jada's gaze flickered to the screen, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. "Oh shit- I mean, shoot." She quickly moved her phone as she glanced at the sight, giving the camera a shocked look as she thought about what she should do.
She had basically just outed the two of you but to be completely fair, it was on you two for making out in a very public bar. "Guys, don't worry that wasn't Paige that was just some other blonde. Sorry guys, you know how Y/N has a thing for blondes."
She sighed as she locked eyes with Kate, who gave her a shocked expression as she looked down at her phone. Kate gave her a look before Jada looked down at her phone, laughing as she waved.
"Looks like we are gonna have to end the live, sorry guys. Love you, bye, mwah mwah."
Paige finally broke the kiss, leaving the both of you to catch your breath. She smiled as her finger swiped your bottom lip, tracing the outline of it gently. You couldn't help but catch your breath, the taste of her lingering on your lips like a sweet memory.
"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips again.
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#uconn#uconn women’s basketball#uconn huskies#uconn wbb#paige bueckers#paige buckets#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers headcannons#paige bueckers fic#ncaaw#ncaa women’s basketball#ncaa wbb#wcbb
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casual~ c. sturniolo x reader
four times y/n was “okay” with “just casual” with chris, one time she told truth + one time he realized what he’d lost.
“my friends call me a loser
cause i’m still hanging around
i’ve heard so many rumors
that i’m just the girl that you bang on your couch”
“i just will never understand you guys,” one of y/n’s friends say, popping a chip in her mouth. “like, why are you sitting around waiting for chris?”
“because she’s obsessed with him, stupid.” another one interjects. they’re all sitting around y/n’s apartment, music playing from the t.v, snacks and drinks littering the table in front of them.
the four girls were waiting for the guys to finish setting up beer pong in the kitchen, and somehow it had turned into conversation about y/n’s less than conventional relationship with chris. go figure.
“i’m not obsessed with him,” she rolls her eyes. “and i’m not waiting for shit. we’re just casual, despite whatever you guys want to think.”
“right,” the third says, dragging out the ‘i’. she gives her a pointed look. “cause spending every waking moment together, sleeping at his house three times a week and looking at each other how you do screams casual.”
y/n laughs then, shaking her head. “it’s not that serious. can’t two people just enjoy each others times- and beds- without a relationship?”
“sure,” her best friend agrees. “two people can. you and chris though? i don’t buy it.”
“alright, fuck you guys.” y/n stands up from her place on the couch, throwing a pillow at one of her friends with a smile. “i’m going to check on what’s taking them so long.”
the walk to the kitchen is interesting, because honestly, it’s the first time y/n has really thought about her… whatever this thing with chris was from an outside perspective. it’d been a constantly changing few months, and she’d never stopped to think about how she felt in all of it.
sure, sometimes chris says stuff to her that has meaning underneath. sure, sometimes she calls him after a bad day because he always knows what to say. and sure, maybe the sex had gone from fun and wild to slightly intimate with eye contact that sometimes knocked the wind out of her. but that didn’t mean it had to mean anything different than what they wanted.
when she gets to the wall separating the hallway and the kitchen, she hears her name and freezes. “chris, bro, what the fuck is going on with you and y/n? i swear you guys are attached at the fucking hip.”
“basically his fucking girlfriend at this point,” matt, his brother, says and she can practically hear him rolling his eyes.
the girl in question finds herself waiting with bated breath for chris to answer. “fuck off, matt,” she imagines he flips him off. “she’s not my fucking girlfriend.”
it takes her by surprise the way it cracks her just a tiny bit. she knew he’d say it, knew that there was no revelation that would leave his lips. that was expected. what wasn’t expected, was how it made her feel. “we’re just fucking around. she’s a cool girl, but that’s about it.”
y/n thinks that bothers her even more than the previous answer. the words wedge their way into her stomach, wiggling around and filling her with a new, uncomfortable feeling. she thinks it may be disappointment, but she refuses to acknowledge it. chris finds her in the hallway before she can anyway.
“hey, we just finished setting up,” he sends her the most beautiful smile, one that her brain suddenly tells her he doesn’t mean. “i was just coming to find you.”
as soon as he’s in her space his hands are on her, snaking around her waist and pulling her in. he kisses her then, soft and sinfully slow. she throws the weird feelings into the fire and kisses him back just as deep.
when he pulls away, his eyebrows furrow slightly, and he gives her a concerned look. “you good?”
she’s surprised he can tell that something was bothering her. surprised he can read her face that well. it confuses her, which in turn brings those discomforting feelings right back. she looks at him, running her eyes all over him, taking him in. his bright blue eyes, the stubble framing his perfect jawline, the faded acne scar on his cheek. the moment is good, and she’s happy with them exactly as they are.
so, y/n runs her hands through his soft hair, placing a searing kiss on his lips. “i’m great. now let’s go. you’re about to get your ass kicked.”
she pulls him towards the kitchen as he laughs, stamping down the pesky voice in her head that tells her that something about this day will come back to haunt her.
-
“you said, “baby, no attachment.” but
we’re knee deep in the passenger seat and you’re eating me out
is it casual now?”
“fuck, chris,” y/n throws her head back, fisting her hands into chris’s scalp as his tongue works against her. the rubber band in her stomach feels like its about to snap, and she knows she can’t hold on much longer.
“so good for me, baby.” chris purrs, voice sending shocks through her core. “no one could ever know you like me. no one ever will.”
he holds her hips down as she tries to wiggle away from the feeling, her finish clawing through her. “no one.” she babbles, basically slurring from the pleasure.
“only me, ma.” his fingers are pumping unforgivingly, making her black spots appear in her vision. “say it.”
“just you, chris- jesusfuckingchrist,” her words keep sticking to each other as they basically fly from her mouth, and when he flattens his tongue on her, the rubber band explodes. “only you.”
he doesn’t stop lapping at her until she comes down from her high, and she’s a shaking mess in his front seat. he’s whispering praises to her, telling her how good she is to him, tells her how she’s never looked prettier than when she’s coming for him, and tells her he could never find anyone better than her.
when everything is said and done and chris is back in the driver’s seat, raking his hands through his hair incessantly, y/n feels an ugly feeling creeping into her gut. it’s red hot and thick, turning her cheeks warm.
she looks at chris, who’s already looking at her. “you okay? need anything?”
her heart clenches a little. because how can they be “just fucking around” when he looks at her like that?
“yeah,” she says, despite her better judgement. “just tired.”
chris nods, leaning across the middle console and plays with a stray curl. she presses her cheek into his hand, kissing it softly. the look in his eyes sends electricity through her veins.
“well, can’t have my girl unrested.” he rubs her chin between his thumb and pointer finger affectionately. “mine or yours?”
the action makes her sick with feelings. “mine.”
and it’s all she has to say before he’s pulling out of the parking lot like a man on a mission.
fuck.
-
“dumb love
i love being stupid
dream of us in a year
maybe we’d have an apartment
and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier”
the light filters through the curtains of the bedroom, causing y/n to blink her eyes open. she stretches slightly, only to find herself wrapped up in someone’s arms.
chris snores softly, lashes kissing his cheeks. his hair is everywhere, falling in pretty tendrils on the pillow. in her sleepy state, the girl reaches out, raking her hands through them.
he groans slightly, pushing his head into her hand. “that feels nice.”
she scrapes her nails in his scalp slightly, warmth filling her at his gruff voice. “good morning.”
he finally opens his eyes,which are a pretty dark blue, coated in sleep. “it is now.” the smile he gives her is blinding.
chris’s hold on her tightens. there’s no physical way for them to get any closer, but he’s trying anyway. his right hand is rubbing her back while his left sits on the swell of her ass, playing with the band of her underwear. the touches make her melt into him further.
they lay there for what seems like forever, although if you asked them, it would never be long enough. when they do finally leave the warmth of their bed, y/n is watching from the doorframe as chris brushes his teeth.
“how come you aren’t ready?” he asks through white foam, spraying it forward. he giggles at that, shrugging.
she raises an eyebrow. “ready for what?”
chris rinses his mouth, patting his face dry. “i told you that my friends from back home are here. we’re going out with them.”
“no, you said you were going out with them,” there’s confusion etched into his face as you continue. “i didn’t think that meant i was coming.”
“why the hell not?”
the surprise she feels is jarring. “you want me to meet your friends from home?”
chris gives her a look like she just shot him. he walks up to her, ducking his head down and connecting their eyes. “first of all, i want you with me literally everywhere i go.” he kisses her chastely. “second, ‘course i do. i want everyone to know you’re mine.”
it feels like the world opens up then. there’s a faint hum going through her body, like chris had single handedly brought her back to life.
the smile that paints her face is so radiant, you’d think the sun had risen right here in this room. “okay. i’ll get ready now.”
before she leaves the room, chris smacks her ass, making them both laugh. she feels the hardwood beneath her feet, feels the kisses from this morning on her skin and feels the peace all around her-
y/n’s woken up by the sound of her phone going off. she’s disoriented, wiping away the sleep with stiff hands. when she comes to fully, she’s in her bedroom, alone, with a longing that threatens to knock her right back out.
that was new. dreaming of chris like that. the way every single touch, every single kiss and every single feeling was so painfully real. it was getting self destructive now, the way that she was coming to realize her feelings, but ignoring them every time.
she picks up her phone to look at the time, 1:47 AM, and the texts that cover her screen.
chris <3
1:04 am
wyd
chris <3
1:17 am
come over
chris <3
1:32 am
need you here
there’s something different in the way she feels while reading them. there’s no excitement, no thrill or pleasure that runs up her spine. there’s nothing but a hollow pit in her stomach, making her nauseous.
her mind reminds her ruthlessly of her dream; the way he held her so tight. the way he called her his, and the way it felt to be wanted by him. she knew that this was no longer casual, the way she wanted to be next to him all the time. they way she found herself right there whenever he asked. the way her heart sped up whenever he looked at her. it felt like she was in fucking quicksand, with every time she tried to ignore and drown out her constantly growing feelings for chris, the deeper she sank.
she wants to say no. she wants to turn around and go right back to sleep. to finally admit that this is hurting her way worse than she’s made herself believe. but she’d be kidding herself to believe that there was ever a way for her to deny anything chris wanted. he might not be hers, but she damn sure was his.
was asleep. give me 15 n i’m on my way.
she tries to convince herself she’s fine the entire drive over there.
-
“two weeks and your mom invites me to her house in long beach
is it casual now?
…and i try to be the chill girl
that holds her tongue and gives you space
i try to be the chill girl
but honestly, i’m not.”
“i’m sorry?”
there’s a deafening silence in y/n’s head when the the words come out of chris’ moms mouth. like the loud buzz and click when turning off a static screen television.
she wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten into this situation. when chris brought it up to her, she was gobsmacked the exact same as now, mouth floundering helplessly.
“my parents are coming next week.” chris says from his place in front of the open fridge. he was rooting around for the last of the soda you kept in there specifically for him.
“i’m glad. i know you said you were missing them recently.” y/n is cooking dinner for the two of them, pasta, cause chris was craving it. she tries not to think of the implications of the scene.
“yeah, i was.”
he’s behind her now, looking over her shoulder at what she’s doing. “can you come over one night? i want you to meet them.”
y/n nearly chucks the pot off the stove with how quick she moves. “you want me to what?”
“holy shit.” chris backs up as she faces him. “you scared the fuck out of me.” he laughs, but she doesn’t return it. she’s just staring at him with wide eyes. something akin to hope blooms in her chest.
“why do you want me to meet your parents?”
chris looks at her like she just asked him to streak. his eyebrows are knitted together, and his eyes are searching hers. “why wouldn’t i?” he shrugs.
she thinks he can’t possibly know what he’s asking. he’s speaking about it so casually that she thinks she might explode. might crumble to the floor beneath his feet. as always.
“i dunno,” she says carefully. trying to find any indication in his face that they were more than she thought from his perspective. “i didn’t know that we were there yet is all.”
chris’ face flashes in recognition then. “ohhhh. no, no,” he laughs like she just told the most hilarious joke in the fucking world. “not like… not like that.”
the words actually make her start to lose consciousness a little. “like that?”
“yeah. not like as a girlfriend or anything.” he has no idea that he’s killing her slowly. “i meant because you’re one of my closest friends. like i know we’re doing this lowkey thing or whatever, but we’re still friends right?”
it would’ve hurt less if he shot her at point blank range.
she nods then, forcing herself to smile. the hope has been smothered just as quick as it started to grow. “yeah, of course. i’d love to.”
he kisses her sweetly before asking if she needs any help cooking for the sixth time today. she says no, and he tells her he’d be in her living room watching TV until she’s done.
it’s only when he left the room did she let herself fall apart.
she feels eerily similar to that moment right now. confused and slightly afraid of saying the wrong thing.
“i said, we’re going on vacation soon and we would love it if you came!” his mom repeats, her smile full and unwavering. “chris never shuts up about you, and you’ve been an absolutely light to be around tonight. we’d love to have you.”
“mom—“, chris groans from next to her in the couch, cheeks turning pink. matt and nick are laughing at him. “quit it. you’re scaring her.”
he didn’t protest. he didn’t shut it down. what the fuck does that mean?
“i wouldn’t want to impose—“ y/n starts, stuttering slightly. her palms are sweating and she feels nervousness pooling in her stomach.
“as if,” nick says. “it would be even better with you there.” matt silently agrees, nodding his head.
she has no idea what to do and chris is looking at her with the most indescribable look she’s ever seen in her god damn life. so she relents. “i’d love to. let me just make sure i’m free.”
his mom’s smile only grows, mirroring chris completely. she turns to nick to talk about something after it’s decided, and y/n’s head is left reeling. chris leans into her ear.
“you don’t have to go, you know.” he says. slowly, she turns her head to him. their faces are close, and she searches his eyes for anything to make her feel better.
“do you want me to?”
his answer is immediate. “of course.”
she knows the next question is heavy, for her at least, so she plasters a small smirk on her lips, raising her eyebrows. “catching feelings, christopher?”
he chuckles, tightening his arm around her shoulders. she envies his ability to go with the flow. to take things as they are. she can’t.
“you wish.”
it shatters her then, but she nuzzles further down into his side anyway. she laughs at the jokes the boys make, the stories his parents tell and the embarrassed blush on chris’s’ neck.
she asks questions when she should, nods and smiles at him when he looks at her. she does it all. for the rest of the night, she acts just like she should, plays her role as the nonchalant, down for whatever friends-with-benefits/situationship/casual relationship girl.
in reality though, she can tell it’s time. can tell by the way her heart constricts when he laughs. by the way she never wants to be away from him. by the way the thought of him wanting her to be so involved in his life is something she craves so bad. she loves him, and its hurting her.
it’s no longer casual, and it’s time to accept it.
-
“i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself
hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell.”
“chris?” y/n walks out the bathroom in one of his shirts and her underwear, towel drying her hair. the boy in question looks up from his phone. “have you seen my red bra with the lace trim?”
he raises his eyebrow. “i thought you had on a black one tonight?”
she rolls her eyes, throwing the towel into the laundry basket. “yes, christopher, i did. but you know the red one’s my favorite and i haven’t seen it in a while.”
he shrugs, pointing at his dresser. “oh yeah. you left it here when you were over here, one time. it’s in the dresser.”
for some reason, the words hit her like a freight train. she pauses, completely unknown to chris who’s still very much into his phone. when she gets to the dresser, she opens it, and sure enough, there it is.
something about it makes hysteria build in her body. she feels like screaming, feels like sinking into the ground to never be seen again. everything inside her that had been simmering inside her the last five months had finally bubbled over. she couldn’t take it anymore.
“what i am to you, chris?”
she didn’t mean for it to come out, but she’s glad it did. glad that she was finally done denying herself the truth that she rightfully deserved.
his head snaps to hers instantly, eyes wide. “what?”
“you heard me,” y/n walks to her bag that’s sitting on his desk chair. she shoves her legs through her shorts, standing straight and looking chris dead in the eye. “what the fuck are we doing here?”
for a moment, there’s nothing. she can tell the cogs in his head are moving a hundred miles an hour by the way his eyes are scanning her face. “we’re what we’ve always been. we’re hanging out. we’re friends.”
“friends,” she mutters bitterly. “right.”
chris sits up finally, turning his entire body towards her. his phone is tossed and forgotten. “where the hell is this coming from?”
“you just had me meet your fucking parents.” she says slowly, enunciating every word. “they fucking invited on vacation with your family,” the room is spinning for her. running past her in a flurry of color and heartbreak, “you keep my favorite fucking bra in your dresser, and you expect me to be okay with “we’re friends?””
chris can tell that something is wrong. sure anyone with functioning social awareness could tell, but he knows something is really, really wrong.
he stands, rounding the bed, coming face to face with her. he reaches out to touch her, and it’s the first time in the history of their entanglement that she steps away. the hurt on his face is palpable. but for once, y/n doesn’t care about how chris feels. or what chris wants.
“come here.” he says.
“no,” she shakes her head. she looks at him then, really looks. slides her eyes over the fluffiness of his drying hair, straight out the shower. the way his eyes sink in just a bit, contrasting with the bright blue they usually possess. the way his nose slopes and perfectly frames his face. the way his mouth, which has been so good to her, naturally leans upward and to the right, always faintly smirking. she takes in everything about him, snapping a photo in her mind so she can remember it after this moment.
y/n takes a deep breath. one she’s needed for a while. “i’m done with this.”
“what are you talking about?” she tries to convince herself it isn’t panic she hears. “stop being ridiculous and talk to me.”
“i am talking, chris. you’re just choosing not to listen.”
she walks to her bag, grabbing the things that she can see are hers. she spots her tank top on the ground, snatching it up and turning her back to chris quickly, stripping off her- his shirt. she thrusts it into his chest.
“i can’t pretend to be okay with this anymore. i tried, i really did. but it hurts. and i refuse to keep ignoring what i need to be what you do.”
the words smack chris right in the center of his forehead, the way it seems. that look, the one she can never fucking figure out, is right back on his face. it’s not her problem anymore.
he can’t think of anything to say. he’s terrified, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. so what comes out is, “you said you were okay with this. that this is what you wanted.”
y/n’s movements cease and she stares at him. they may be right in front of each other, yet there’s nothing between them but space.
“i was,” she admits. “but now i’m not. so i need you to look me in face right now and tell me what you want. cause i can’t do casual anymore, chris.”
when he doesn’t speak, her words fill the space. “i can’t wake up in your bed five nights of the week with you wrapped around me and call it casual. can’t hear you call me ‘your girl’ and pretend that when we fuck it’s casual. you can’t continuously treat me like your world and then back out when i expect it from you.”
she wishes he would say something, anything. instead, he stands in front of her, desperation haunting his features. she wants to give in, to tell him it’s okay. but she can’t. she won’t.
“i can’t give you a relationship, if that’s what you’re saying.” he runs his hair through his hair. he looks about as stressed as she feels. “i like you, but i’m not ready for that.”
y/n scoffs. it feels like a severed connection. like he just cut the tether between them with a hacksaw. “you can, but you won’t.” she smiles sadly, “and that’s okay. i don’t want you to do something that makes you unhappy.”
she walks to him then, gently placing her hand on his cheek. despite the cavity that’s being carved in place of her heart, she loves him. “i hope, on that at least, you feel the same.”
there’s really nothing else she needs to say, and she doesn’t really think there’s much else she can stomach to hear. so she removes herself from his space, and begins to try to remove him from hers.
he doesn’t try to stop her as she leaves. she doesn’t expect him to. she thinks that tells her everything.
-
y/n groans as she pulls into her unofficial, official parking spot in front of her apartment complex after work. her entire body aches, and she can’t wait to collapse in her bed.
her phone pings loudly, making her jump. she has that momentary adrenaline rush that she always does when she hears it, even after nearly a month. she wouldn’t say she was holding on to hope that he would text her, but the thought still lives in the back of her head.
it dies as quickly as it always does when she checks, though. her mom had sent her a link to some new recipe she wanted to try. she doesn’t even have the energy to heart the message.
she grabs her bag, trudging up the insane amount of stairs, grumbling about how she can’t wait for her lease to be up. it’s only when she turns the corner to the hallway leading to her apartment that she stops dead in her fucking tracks, body going numb.
there, in all his unfortunately sexy glory, is chris. he’s sitting on the ground outside her door, arms hanging off his knees. through the darkness, y/n can see him in her favorite jacket that he owns, a dark blue and white flannel type, and black, loose jeans hanging off his slouched frame.
she has no idea how long she stands there, unmoving and not uttering a word, but eventually, chris looks up.
he basically jumps up, straightening his clothes. “hi.”
she pushes her feet to move, but they don’t. “hi?”
chris scratches the back of his neck nervously. “sorry to just show up like this- fuck this is probably weird, right?- i just-“ he sucks in a breath. “i wanted to talk to you.”
“oh.” she says dumbly, eyes still wide. “yeah. okay.”
neither of them know what to say, or what to do. they’re just standing ten feet apart, staring like they’ve both seen a ghost. it’s only when y/n’s neighbor comes out of their apartment and she has to get out of the way does she move.
her feet carry her on autopilot, mind blank as she walks to her door. she’s so acutely aware of chris behind her as she opens it. it’s a funny thing, falling in love with someone. your body never forgets how they made you feel. she feels like chris must have a magnet underneath his clothes, the way she’s being pulled towards him.
once they’re inside and the lights are on, she sets her stuff down on the dining room table. she takes in a deep breath, steeling her heart before turning to him.
“so what’s up-“
“i miss you.”
they speak at the same time, but chris doesn’t falter when she gapes at him. “i’m sorry for being a fucking idiot. i’m sorry for hurting you.”
there’s not enough time for her to process anything before he’s walking towards her, slowly, like she might disappear if he makes a sudden move.
“what the fuck?”
it makes him smile slightly. he looks down for a second before closing the remaining space between them. he’s right in front of her now, and feels every hair on her body raise. his eyes are so honest, so open that it kind of takes her breath away. there’s a tiredness to him. like he hadn’t been sleeping well. his eye bags are deeper than before, eyes a little more sunken in. his facial hair is more grown out than she’s ever seen it, pronounced five o’clock shadow that makes him look well beyond his years.
“i always wanted more. i think i was just being a pussy. do you remember when i asked you to meet my parents?” she nods. how could she forget? “that night, i’d been watching you in the kitchen, dancing around and cooking. asking me to try the sauce every time you added something. kicking me out when i got too close or when i asked you if you wanted help again.”
he chuckles, like he’s thinking about his favorite memory. “i was looking at you and i knew that i was in love with you. it hit me like a fucking bus. so i asked you to meet my parents.”
y/n physically can’t do anything but stare at him like he’s telling her the secrets of the universe.
“when you said you “didn’t think we were there yet”…” he trails off, pink tinting his cheeks. “well, it scared the shit out of me. for so many reasons. i thought that meant you didn’t feel the same. then i got scared because i thought i was falling for you and this was still something you could replace.”
she doesn’t know what to say at the confession. doesn’t know how to feel either. it seemed beyond her comprehension that there was ever a time, during their entire relationship, that chris thought his feelings were unrequited.
“why the fuck didn’t you say something when i left that night?” she says incredulously. “you let me walk out of your house thinking you didn’t feel the same. do you know how bad that hurt?”
chris cringes at the reminder. “i know, and i’m so fucking sorry. i’ve replayed that night over in my head literally a million times wishing i could change it.” when he knows she won’t back away, he puts a hand on the space between her cheek and neck. “i do feel the same way, y/n. i always have. i’m sorry i was too chicken shit to tell you. and i’m sorry that you ever felt like you had to keep hurting yourself to make me happy.”
y/n feels her resolve slipping. looking at chris, standing in her apartment after a month of missing him, of wishing he would do exactly what he’s doing now, has her heart beating a thousand miles an hour. that pesky little hope fly, the one she’d thought she squished and smothered, rears its ugly head again.
above all though, she’s cautious. her heart is still tender from the break it took, and she can’t do that again. she gives him a lost look, like despite all he said, she’s still missing something.
he gets closer, lips a hair away. “ask me again.”
“ask you what?”
“what you asked me that night.” he snakes a hand up her hips to her waist. it’s searing, leaving fire in its trace. “ask me again.”
she thinks back, when she realizes, her eyes soften. “what am i to you, chris?” her voice is nothing but a whisper, scared to burst the bubble around them. the moment is so sensitive and soft, the juxtaposition of the original harshness of the question definitely not lost on her.
“you’re everything to me. you’ve been my girlfriend since probably the third week we started this thing,” her breath hitches. “you’re someone i never want to lose again.”
and when he kisses her, cause he just knows, y/n feels herself exhale. feels the pieces of her heart click back in place. it’s like finding a lost puzzle piece under a couch cushion. like the first sip of ice cold water on a scorching day.
she grabs on to him tightly, losing herself in it completely. his lips chase her every way she moves, not standing to be disconnected. it’s messy and beautiful and right. it’s all the miscommunication, fear of the unknown and doubt circling down the metaphorical drain.
she pulls away to speak, but chris doesn’t let her up. she gives him one, two, three kisses back to back before she turns her head, laughing relentlessly. “chris!”
he doesn’t stop smothering her, placing his lips on the corner of her mouth, her neck, her cheek— everywhere he can reach.
“it’s been so long. you can’t expect me to not want you close, baby.”
her heart swells ten times in size, filling her ribcage beautifully. she grabs his face in her hands, raising a stern eyebrow. “i have to say something.” chris pouts slightly, and because she’s waited so long for this, and he’s looking at her like he could never live a second without her, she places one more lingering kiss to his full lips.
“i love you, too, by the way.”
the way his face lights up has even the brightest star withering in envy. he wraps his arms all the way around her body, pulling her impossibly closer.
who knows how long they stay there, heart to heart, finally, finally exactly where they should’ve been all along.
and when they lay close in y/n’s bed that night, skin to skin and deliriously happy, they both have the same thought.
fuck casual.
TAG LIST:
@cottoncandyswisherz @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @55sturn @greatooglymooglyyy @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @chrryclouds @hypnotizedsturn @riowritesitall @kitaysworld @h3arts4harry @fikefries @conspiracy-ash @matty-bear @always-reading @thehighgrounds
a/n: jesus fuck this shit took me FOREVER. i hope yall like it cause i spent so long tweaking it and rewriting some parts cause i wanted it to be perfect. this song also is embedded in my bones and i’m obsessed with it so bad. how we feeling cherrie nation!!!
also yes before y’all start… number neighbor!ten will be up with in the hour!! i wanted to post a bunch cause i’ve been working so fucking much and finally had a real day off. back at it tomorrow doe </3
anyways love yall so bad i hope u like it 🥹
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo texts#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#Spotify
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vienna — CL16
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: smut, some sad stuff, a prequel to “when it rains it pours”, swearing, just finished this after starting it a whileeeeee ago, google translated french (soz), this is old (as in mid 2023 old), not a good representation of a relationship, not proofread!
synopsis: what really happened the night you bumped into charles at the monaco grand prix [6.0k]
a/n: im backkkk bitches!! jk i don’t wanna jinx myself but who woulda thought it would a charles fic that got me out of my slump. anyway, please be nice, i haven’t wrote in like 3 months properly 😭😭
you stayed true to your words, keeping your distance from charles.
you hadn't seen him in months, not since you'd left him in the kitchen that night. you hadn't been temped enough to check how he was doing in his races or where he was in the standings, not once.
and your friends knew better than to tell you, so whilst you could see they were obviously celebrating something, wether it was a win or a podium, you kept yourself away from anything relating to him.
the way he looked at you when you were in the kitchen was still burned into your memory, the smug and almost mocking expression on his face, as if he didn't believe the words that you told him, as if he knew you'd come straight back to him.
you told yourself after that, that you'd be stronger the next time, that you wouldn't give into his glances or taunting looks he gave you. that you were stronger than him and whatever gave me was playing.
although all it took was a win at one of the most iconic circuits on the calendar to break down the walls you'd so carefully built up.
you'd inevitably learned through a mutual friend that charles was a contender in the championship, that ferrari had been having a 'wonder season' with their monegasque golden boy, a miracle was what the media was calling it. a potential to win the championship since they last did in 2007.
monaco was the next race around the corner, the exclusive circuit de monaco one of the hardest to get tickets to, even for the countries natives, although it did help living basically around the corner from it.
whilst you were with charles it had became some what of a tradition to attend monaco with him, every year of his career, you were with him for your home race. despite the rumours of the curse, wether you being with him was the cause, it never stopped you from going.
you'd ruled out attending this year without a second thought, letting your friends know that too, pierre being the one to offer your entire friend group paddock passes for the three days.
it took days of your friends grovelling, your many no's and them constantly assuring you that the thousands of people attending would be the ones taking over much of charles' attention, before you finally gave in and agreed.
after all he was the home boy, everyone loved him, men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him, and he revelled in knowing that.
monaco had a special way of bringing out the other side of you, the partying side that never seemed to be able to sit down or the side of you that made the bad decisions, that wouldn't listen to anyone unless they were putting a drink in your hand.
it was a 50/50 coin toss on which one people would get.
the first two days had gone by in a blink of an eye, everything running just as smoothly as your friends had promised and you were actually having fun, the most shocking thing of all.
you had somehow managed to avoid him the entire weekend, and you were about to go three for three when charles had found you watching over the alpine mechanics as they worked on the final preparations of the race day car.
it was obvious to anyone he had came around looking for pierre, although he couldn't say that he was disappointed to see you instead. "was wondering where my number one supporter was," his voice was like nails on a chalkboard for you, a graining sound that wouldn't leave your head and you hated how much you missed it. you chose not to acknowledge him as he spoke, continuing to look at the mechanics and even pretending to understand the data on the screen. "shame you're not in the ferrari garage, we used to have so much fun in there."
"fuck you, charles." standing up from the chair, you moved to walk past him the ferrari driver blocking the way as he tilted his head down towards you. he opened his mouth to say something before an engineer from the ferrari garage found him, needing him for something with the car.
charles removed the cap from his head, placing it on yours, and it felt so right that you wanted to shoot yourself for how much you loved it, he laughed lightly at how quick you were to take it off again. "i'll find you after the race."
just as you'd anticipated, the race too wasn't too action filled, but you couldn't lie and say you were paying it all your attention, the rare occurrence of a red bull strategy error allowing the ferrari's a larger gap to a 1-2. a mclaren crashing into the barrier had brought out a safety car with just under 10 laps to go.
with only 5 laps, it was inevitable who the winner was, the winner who was about to win the monaco grand prix, and break his home race curse in one go.
fans and employees alike gather around the podium, the winning car followed by second and third place displayed in front of them. the drivers came out one by one, celebrate with their teams because after all they're on the podium of the most presidential grand prix, each of them standing at their designated step before charles, accompanied by the cheers of his home crowd, took the top step.
soon they were each awarded their trophies before the monegasque anthem rung out to the crowd. charles stood proud as he took everything in, he had beat the curse and won at his home track.
you watched from afar with your friends mixed in with the alpine engineers and other workers, trying to push down the proud feeling you have bubbling inside of you. each celebrated as if their own team won, it seemed that truly everyone had a soft spot for the ferrari man.
with the majority of celebrations over the fans began to leave the track, all of you going back to your apartments to get ready for what inevitably was going to be a long night of celebration.
you couldn't help the memories flashing in your head of the pictures shown to you just over two years ago, charles' hand on the brunette girls hip as his mouth was on hers. a couple others in the background jeering them on as though it was something to celebrate. you hadn't gone out in monaco since, everywhere reminded you of that.
however, you shook the thoughts from your head. tonight, you were going to go out with your friends tonight, get drunk, then end up back in your own bed.
people were spilling out of the clubs onto the street, different songs blaring out of each one. your friends had settled on one you’d been going to since your teens, the purple strobes hitting you as you got in, memories of every bad decision you’d made in there coming back to you, taunting you.
it was just shy of full, people on the dance floor with a drink in their hand as they danced up against someone, spilling whatever filled their glasses. guys sat in booths with girls around them, their company lasting as long as they had money in their wallet.
a drink was quickly placed in your hand, your simple order one that your friends were used to by now. you were in your usual spot, the leather seats still pristine as the day you first sat on them when one of them had spotted pierre in another booths, the frenchman calling you over before making room for all of you.
one drink quickly turned into two, then three before you were both finally tipsy enough to get to the dance floor, this was the side of you that your friends loved to see, fun, carefree, living in the moment. your body pushed up against someone behind you, long gone were the thoughts of the monegasque who’d plagued your life, the feeling of his hands firmly on your hips had you pressing further back.
his grip on you was enough to keep you to close to him, his breath hot on your neck before his lips began to explore your exposed skin, open mouthed kisses littered across your collarbone. leaning into his touch you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing the man closer to you, giving into the feeling.
the alcohol flowing through your veins built up the courage for you to turn to look at him, a small gasp falling from your lips as your eyes met the familiar ones of pierre, looking down at you with his arm wrapped around your waist, unapologetically looking over your body. "you know he'd be mad if he saw us."
you hated that you still let him have this control over you, that with another man wrapped up around you, you still thought about how he felt. despite the noise, pierre could hear your words clearly. his lips continued up your neck from your collarbone, reaching just below your ear, teeth lightly grazing your earlobe. "good thing he isn't here," the frenchman placed a small kiss on the soft skin. "charles doesn't know what he's lost."
every inch of your body shouted to give into him, to be the bad guy and fuck his best friend with no remorse, after all where was his remorse when he’d left you in that kitchen, when he’d been in another womens bed?
but even then, something stopped you from letting yourself fall into pierre's arms, something still held you back. nothing could explain what prompted you to step away from him, offering him a quick apology before going back to the booth, the warmth of his lips a long forgotten feeling.
at that point you hadn't even wanted to continue with the night, ordering one last drink before you told your friends you were ready for an early night, an early night for monaco anyway.
the walk from the club was barely 10 minutes to your apartment, the times when you were thankful to live in a small country. you rounded a corner, mimicking the cars that had been on the track hours prior, feeling your body hit into another's as they quickly apologised.
"are you everywhere?" you groaned seeing who you had bumped into, the very person who you wanted to see least in that moment.
charles rolled his eyes at your comment. "monaco is a small place," he looked behind you waiting to see your friends following suit, frowning slightly when he saw you alone. "where's everyone else?"
“dancing and drunk." you gave him a short answer, moving past him to continue home when you heard his footsteps behind you, cursing under your breath, your patience was running thin. "is there something you need, charles?"
"what kind of gentleman would i be if i let you walk home yourself drunk?" scoffing at his choice of the word gentleman, you started walking away from him, already aware there was no hope of him giving up, you’d learned over the course of your life to just accept he did things at his own accord.
the rest of the walk to your apartment was in an awkward silence, although you could see charles was desperate to say something, the way he’d take a breath as if he was about to speak before holding off, and you’d been so close to screaming at him to just get it out before you saw your complex entrance.
"why did you want to walk me home?" the question had been eating away at you; lingering in your mind the whole time he was besides you, needing to know the answer.
"i told you, i don't like the idea of you walking home by yourself." charles spoke nonchalantly, as if it was a daily occurrence for him, seeing his ex girlfriend who he’d so delicately fucked up.
at his answer you let out a sarcastic laugh. "we both know that’s bullshit charles, you don't care about anyone who's not you," you eyed up the monegasque, searching his usually poetically handsome features for any reaction. "you never did care."
that struck a nerve in charles, his voice raising slightly as he spoke. "of course i fucking cared about you, i wouldn't have kept you around just so i could fuck you."
it took all your self restraint not to slap him in that moment, instead hoping the glare you were giving him was enough to kill him. swinging the door to your complex open you heard it slam behind you, wishing that it closed before he was able to get inside.
unfortunately though, your wishful thinking was just that and you could hear his footsteps just behind yours, echoing against the tiled walls, ringing in your ears like a sirens song. "go celebrate charles."
"i want to talk to you,"
"too bad." you replied, throwing him a bitter smile over your shoulder as the door to your apartment unlocked.
"just give me five minutes." no part of you wanted to turn to look at him, knowing the second you saw his eyes you would cave in. ultimately though, he didn’t even need to look at you before you conceded.
the door was opened just as quickly as it closed, charles' eyes scanning the apartment, which looked just as it had whilst you were together. in fact, you still had the miniature helmet he wore for his first win in spa, and the smaller replica trophy from his monza triumph, keepsakes of his success that you hadn’t bothered to throw away.
"you kept them?" you could hear in his voice he was surprised, charles had half expected to see them in a burning fire before he ever saw them in the same position on your mantelpiece.
your eyes drifted to where he was looking, a lump threatening to grow in your throat, part of you forgetting they were even there since they’d become a constant in tour apartment. "i haven't had a chance to clean, not been at home much recently." you would be lying if you said you weren't missing monaco, after all it was your home, your families home and your friends home.
charles silently nodded at your answer, the apartment falling into a deafening silence as you mulled over what to say next. "so anything new with you? any boyfriends?" he prepared himself for the inevitable 'yes' that you would answer with.
however that never came, shaking your head no as you questioned him with a confused look, still not entirely sure on why he was still standing in your apartment, or why you were even entertaining him.
"really? I didn't-"
“charles, is there something you actually want?" you cut him off abruptly, with him you never did have the same patience you did with others in your life.
"i told you i wanted to talk to you," you responded by raising your eyebrow as if to say 'about?' "pierre told me you went on a date and i wanted-"
you were beyond mad at this point, not only had he essentially followed you home but also had the audacity to ask about a date you had. "fuck off Charles, and tell Pierre he can fuck off too."
“so, did you?”
you owed him nothing, you knew that, he knew it too and yet something inside of you wanted to let his know, still felt obligated to tell him. "yes charles, i went on a date, and i'm sure you'll be happy to know it was shit."
"why? what happened?" he was pushing his luck and he knew it, one wrong word, a question to far and he was asking for a slap from you.
a part of you did want to slap him for continuing to ask these personal questions, he was nothing to you anymore, he wasn't apart of you life and he didn't deserve to be. But the other part, the half you'd hidden away the last few months, wanted him to know.
and unfortunately for you, that part won. "he couldn't get me off, there, happy? now can you fuck off?" you walked towards the door of your apartment, about to hold it open when you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist.
before you could think your back was against the wall, charles' body flush against yours, his eyes finding yours instantly and you hated the way your stomach erupted in butterflies when they did.
you tried to wriggle away, charles' grip on your hands to strong for you to even budge. "poor guy couldn’t get you to come?” you responded with silence, not wanting to give nto his taunting. “told you i'd ruin other men for you, didn't i?" the monegasque couldn't hide hide smirk, watching as you rolled your eyes at the implication.
scoffing at his words, you tried to break free of his grasp again, ultimately stopping when you made no progress, his hand held you own two above your head, his other lingering somewhere across your stomach. "you flatter yourselves charles, really, more than anyone else does."
he rolled his eyes, testing the waters as he leant in to press a singular kiss against your neck, a self satisfied smile spreading across his face when you tilted it back against the cold wall, allowing him for access. "always knew you could never stay away for too long. how long was it last time, 2, 3 months?”
truly, in that moment you hated yourself for giving into his advances, but it didn’t mean that you were going to go quietly. "last i checked you followed me, seems you’re the desperate one."
"and who's the one letting me fuck her after her date couldn't?"
"who said anything about you fucking me?" instead of answering Charles bit down into the skin on your neck, a small whimper falling from your lips, quickly shutting you up, as he soothed over the redness with his tongue.
each movement of his was controlled, calculated, he knew where he was going to touch you, when he was going to, almost as if he knew it was going to happen. something about the way he was slightly smiling when he brought your lips in for a kiss made you short of breath, knocking the air out of your lungs, with your skin tingling at the long forgotten play of intimacy. you melted into his embrace, every sense on high alert.
red flags went off in your head. he cheated on you, and you took him back. it was a viscous cycle where neither seemed strong enough to let go.
it was almost like you were drowning in the moment, in him, sinking so deep you were sure to meet mariana’s trench.
at this, you pulled away, your face was red hot, watching as his smug exterior faltered slightly, his cheeks fading a small hue of redness. your hands rested on his chest, his eyes slightly red from the lack of sleep he must've gotten. "you can't keep doing this, charles, it's not fair." your voice was weak as you spoke, not having the strength to look him in his eyes.
"if it's not fair, then why do you keep coming back to me?" the question was warranted, yet there was a slight part of you, deep inside that section of your heart reserved for him that thought this could work, that you would get back together and all would be right in the world.
you had no real answer for him, nothing you could offer him that you hadn’t said already, and you knew he wasn’t bound to change his mind about you now. "because i want to believe it'll work, even when we know it doesn't." charles' lips were millimetres away from yours, able to feel his breath fanning them as your eyes glanced down at them.
delicately, charles slid his hands over your hips before squeezing the skin, noticing the quick look to his lips he longed to kiss you again, to stay like this for a moment, it was easy like that, to forget he had to make a relationship work outside of kissing you. it was when you decided to look up, the memory of your kiss making your insides warm were you leaning forward to place another tender smooch on his lips, savoring it, may it be your last.
you knew you were making a mistake, but if you truly wanted to let him go, it was one you had to let yourself make. this was on your accords, not his.
charles' touch softened at your quick action, a faint blush forming on his cheeks. "I always knew you were the obsessed one" with the sudden whisper you voiced, he smiled sheep it at you. you held off from smiling back at him, allowing him to take you, holding your hand in his when you walked towards your once shared bedroom, nostalgia feeding the delusions that this wouldn’t be the last time.
the nights in monaco were never quiet, the weekends increasing tenfold and for the first time in years you welcomed the buzzing night life of your home country. his hands on your body were a sensation that brought back memories, good and bad, and you didn't even realize how much you had missed him on you.
for the past few months you’d tried to convince yourself and everyone around you that you didn't want him, that you were fine on your own but charles, as always, saw right through it. "i know you missed me, chérie, it's okay to admit it," he punctuated his words with a kiss on your cheek. "tu m'as manqué." i missed you
he had broken you a long ago and the only person who can pick up your pieces and make you whole again, was him.
"shut up and fuck me, charles." your hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head with no protest from him, in an attempt to get him to speed up.
"thought we didn't say anything about fucking you?" you hated the way the cocky smile on his face made a warmth pool in your stomach, turned you on like no one had before or after him.
you ignored his comment, turning round to let charles unzip the dress you had been wearing. his hands danced across the back of your shoulders, goosebumps rising on your warm skin as he slowly unzipped your dress. he leant in, placing a kiss in between your shoulder blades, undoing it fully and watching as the material fell, black against the stark white sheets.
maybe it was symbolic, yin and yang, sinner and saint, darkness and light, charles and you.
underneath you had a matching red set on, the red lace complimenting your skin tone more than any other colour. "even when i'm not around your still wearing my colour." you rolled your eyes at his goading when he cupped your breasts, squeezing the soft skin slightly.
"red was always arthur’s favourite colour on me." your voice was shallow as you spoke, sighing contently as squeezed your soft skin, thumbs grazing over your nipples. your words were a call back to when you and charles had started dating, the last year of high school, arthur only 15 and you and charles 18.
it was a running joke in the family of his crush on you, the younger leclerc taking after the rest of his family in that he was never shy to let someone know how he felt, especially the girls.
you saw charles' eyes darken at the mention of his name, quick to bring your mouth in for another, much shorter, kiss as his hands ran up and down your body. with each passing minute you melted into him, his lips peppering your neck with wet kisses while travelling further down your body, nibbling on your tender skin downwards. the room was dimly lid, yet you could clearly view his eyes on you, locked on you like a predator with his prey, pupils blown out in a crazed look.
quickly, charles cleared the soaked lace that was in his way, leaving no barrier between himself and your bare cunt. "don't get shy on me now, chérie, open your legs."
you couldn’t you resist him much longer, or maybe you didn’t want to, spreading your legs as he placed himself right in between you, hiking your leg over his shoulder. his lips drifted down from your calf, closer and closer to the inside of your thigh before you could feel his breath on you, hyperaware of everything.
"fuck, you're so wet." your skin erupted with goosebumps with his first of many kisses on your clit, the tingling nerves anticipating further care from him. charles prodded his tongue out, flicking it over your sensitivity, pitiful sounding whines falling from your lips.
"don’t tease me.” you pleaded with him, watching as his eyes flashed up at you, a mischievous smile on his face before turning away again.
charles flattened his tongue against you, licking a stripe up the middle, working his mouth against you whilst also placing his middle finger against your clit. he circled your clit with his tongue, whimpers falling from your lips from the pleasure. your eyes were screwed shut, hands clutching at the bedsheets when you felt him push two of his fingers inside of you.
"look at how good you take my fingers, mon amour, just as you always did." Your thighs shook slightly when he pressed his tongue against your clit again alongside pumping his fingers in and out of you. your significant wetness was coating him, fingers easily moving as you clenched around them.
his mouth explored your every inch, his nose messily bumping against your clit when his tongue wasn't on it, your hand digging into his hair, keeping him there, pulling on the dark strands as groans sounded from him.
in between his taunts were words of praise, every second getting you closer and closer to the release you so desperately needed. your lips slumped into mindless pleading, with charles obliging, knowing full on well what you needed, he always did.
"forgot how good you taste." he made no attempt to tone down his crude language, making your cheeks rise up with heat, to have you writhe underneath him, not to mention with you succumbing to all of his attention on your neglected cunt.
you let out a louder moan, whining as he added a third finger, stretching you out more; more than you had been for at least a few months now. "charles, i'm so close." your pleading was futile, knowing charles was always the type of man to make you wait until he wanted you to come undone.
the clenching around his fingers made it even clearer that you were close, so close you were practically dancing around your release. "cmon, let go for me, chérie.” charles spoke in a low voice, his warm breath tickling your skin.
he help you ride through your first orgasm, his name the only thing on your tongue as your thighs shook around his head, your hands grasping at the grown out strands of his hair, charles letting his eyes glance up at you when you came. your back arched off the mattresses of the bed, the heels of your feet digging into charles' shoulders.
just when you thought he’d stop he didn’t relent, his fingers still moving inside of you, tongue pressed against your clit as he slowly circled it, you could hear the sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you, any other time and you’d be embarrassed by it. “s’too much, charles.”
“too much? one orgasm and it’s too much?” you nodded your head pitifully, hands reaching down to wrap around his wrist but it didn’t stop the movement of charle’s fingers. “what happened to my good girl? used to be able to at least give my fingers two.”
you knew where he was going with this, he wasn’t going to stop till you came again, wether it was on his tongue or with his fingers, and you whined when you felt them curl inside of you, feeling fuller than before somehow. already hypersensitive, it wasn’t long till the familiar rush came back to you, building in your stomach, the coil tightening till it once again snapped.
"never gonna be able to forget how good you sound moaning my name." his voice was tainted with, drawing out sloppy kisses on your belly, then breasts, wherever you let him he left marks in his wake. you let him explore and spoil you, shameless as he tenderly wrapped his lips around the erected nipple while rolling the other one between his fingers.
he puts out his hand for you, bringing you to match his height, moving to kiss you again now that your breathing was less erratic. "i want you to fuck me," you say almost breathlessly against his lips.
he hums against your lips, helping you up so you both can move atop your bed. he lays you back against what once was your neatly set up pillows, still hungrily kissing you, hands running down your thighs, but you move to grasp them. "fuck, i want you so badly right now." you knew it was wrong but you revelled in his confession, that after everything he was still yearning for you.
charles pauses looking at your eyes, still despite everything looking for any shade of regret in them. when he sees nothing he takes the opportunity to make one of his snide remarks. "remember when you told me this wasn't going to happen again? always knew you were a good liar."
you craved the stretch of him, the stretch that no many years together could prepare you for and the burn much like before that lingers in your throat and was so good that it made you forget how to think.
charles pushes inside of you, moving as slow as possible but you encourage him to fill you up completely. your eyes roll back into your head at the feeling of his cock stretching you, your hands coming to grasp onto his shoulders, nails digging in to his lightly tanned skin. charles' breathing staggers as he groans, moving forwards to place kisses along your jaw.
he stills once he's in you fully, but you shake your head slightly. "don't fucking stop charles,” his face stays tucked in your neck, his hips rolling against yours forcing a moan from your lips.
“even wore my favourite perfume, were you planning on fucking me when you got ready, chérie?" he’d just picked up on it there, the same signature scent you had wore throughout your entire relationship being the first one you reach for, a sweet smell that he thought reflected on you perfectly.
"shut up." he swallows a laugh when he hears you cry out, featherlight touches against your skin, gently, enjoying the sounds that rose from you with the way slammed into you.
he held your gaze, your eyes overcome with desire, lust, sensing nothing but your hammering heartbeat on his chest.
his lips slightly parted after every thrust, he knew he needed this as much as you did, taking advantage of the momentary peace to try to catch his breath with your nails holding onto his back, branding his skin with crescent shaped indents.
his little words of praise worked contradictory with his continuous taunts, teasing you as he nipped at your exposed skin.
your hands raked over his taut muscles, earning a grown from the man above you as your nails scratched against his back. charles pulled your hands in his own, placing them above your head before increasing the rhythm on his hips, steadier, deeper, not to mention pushing you closer to your release.
charles bought his face closer to yours, his lips just lightly brushing over your ear. "i want you to ride me, put on a show."
you couldn't help but moan at his words, nodding your head before switching positions, charles staying inside as you straddled his lap, knees locked in on either side of his thighs, his eyes meeting yours and you could see how desperate he was in that moment.
he was sat further up on the bed, your nails raking down his chest, leaving more, deeper, marks sure to last. lips pressed against the side of his neck, biting down on the skin before soothing over it and moving onto another place.
his adams apple bobbed as you took more of the control, setting your own pace despite his hands on your hips trying to make you go faster. charles brought his thumb down to your clit, circling it which had your thighs shaking around him.
charles' name fell from your mouth more than anything else, him and your pleasure your two sole focuses.
he could see the tiredness start to come through in your movements, choosing to take more control wether you complained or not. he began thrusting up into you with his hands on your hips, his thumb still rubbing circles on your clit determine to make you come at least once more.
your thighs tried closing around charles' midriff from the overwhelming sensitivity, although he was there to keep them open, a hand on the top of both of your thighs forcing them open.
clenching around him one last time you felt him release inside of you, the warm feeling of him so deep inside of you making you whine. charles let out a string of curse words, your name at the forefront when he let out one last groan, slumping back against your pillows altogether his hands didn’t stop the movement of your hips.
within the whirlwind of emotions, you desperately clenched around him, with this position your heart was racing, dipping into the mattress with soft gusts of breath departing from your lips. the raw drag of him was somehow more extreme, pursing your mouth when you felt a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.
his own orgasm brought on yours, your bodies in-tune with each other as if he’d never left. you were completely ruined, mind going blank as you felt yourself losing full control of your body to charles, vision a blinding white as your body felt hot all over.
the monegasque brought you in for a short kiss, leaving for the bathroom when you rolled off of him and coming back with a dampened towel, helping you clean up.
you both knew it was the last time you had together, the last time you would ever share a bed together, the last kiss.
and the thought of that had you clutching onto each other in your sleep just a bit tighter.
although before you did eventually fall asleep, you heard charles whisper one last thing in your ear, his confession bringing the smallest of smiles to your face.
"je serai toujours à toi."
tag list:
@irmpyrz @tempo-rary-fix @formulas-bitch @yunnie-f1 @julesandro @itsjustkhaos @janeh22 (a year later and i finally have something to tag yous in!!)
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc one shot#f1#f1 fluff#f1 smut#f1 one shot#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader
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Hot Tatted Uncles (Uncle!SukunaAu X Teacher!Reader)
I’ve fallen victim to the unkuna/uncle sukuna au so HAVE THIS
PART 2 UP NOW!!! <------- Click the link here!
_____________________________________________________
“My uncle be fighting people.” Yuji hums, your gaze immediately shooting to the toddler.
“O-Oh really?” You gulp, knowing kids say the wildest things but after you’re first encounter with the pink-hair boy's uncle, you would put it past him.
“Yeah, he. He told me uh-um-.” The boy sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, to which you sigh and directed him to the sink as he continues his story
“Uh- he told me that he beat up this guy and he- uh he won and that the guy lost.”
You fight the urge to laugh, his sentence seeming so long and incomplete. Typical toddler.
“Well we don’t fight our friends right Yuji? You be good and keep your hands to yourself?” You encourage, ruffling the boy's hair as he smiles, one of the fronts missing.
“Yeah! We use nice hands.” Yuji repeats, leaving you with your thoughts as he grabs ahold of a car to play with.
Why would you tell a 2-year-old you beat someone up?! You sigh, scrolling through your contacts, making a note to speak with his father, even though the boy hadn't done anything, it's still concerning that he might feel as if that’s okay since his uncle does it.
It’s quiet for a moment, your other three students Nobara, Megumi, and Mahito playing together….and then it happens.
WHAM!
A still silence falls over the room and soon a roar of cries as Mahito holds the top of his head. In all honestly the child was a problem so whatever he did to get smacked over the head with a wooden block was probably warranted. But the bigger problem was that you biggest fear had come to fruition. Yuji, had hit and essentially started to fight with another child, as Mahito had hit him back. You’d definitely need to speak to his father now.
The rest of the children had gone home now, Yuji being your last child as you closed your classroom down. Your class usually ended around 6:00 and it was pushing 6:15 now. Just as you were about to make your courtesy call, the door opened with the jingle of keys and a throaty chuckle.
"Look at you, giving your teacher a hard time?" The tatted male asks, scooping up a giggling Yuji with a toothy grin. You, however, were far from pleased, giving a tight-lipped smile as he just barely glances your way.
"Hi, I'm Miss Y/n, Yuji's teacher." You announce, taking a tissue to wipe Yuji's nose one last time before he left.
"Uh huh," He responds, grimacing as you wipe the snot away.
"So, Yuji had a pretty good day today, but I did have to have a chat with him about..fighting and hitting other friends." You explain, feeling smaller under his sharp gaze. His face is tatted too, the thick dark lines running along his nose, cheeks, and jawline.
"You in here beatin people up?" He states sharply at the boy who only nods with a smile.
"Yeah! Like how you said you beat everyone up!" Yuji admits ith joy and his Uncle's face falls.
"Yes so, before Yuji hit the other child he told me that you...fight people and I told him that we use our nice hands. But right after that, he had-"
"Hit another kid. The parents mad?" He asks, a bit troubled now, most likely mentally cursing himself for kinda causing this whole debacle. \
"W-well I can't really disclose that. The point is, please just chat with him and hopefully, he can learn that's not okay." You explain, feeling a bit more relieved since the convo went smoother than usual. And part of you was a little... flustered with how seriously he was looking at you. You couldn't help but look at his tatted and flexed arm as he moved Yuji to sit on his shoulders.
"Yeah, well, here have my number so if anything else happens and I'm picking up you can just let me know." He hums, pulling his phone skillfully from his sweatpants pocket and
Holy shit...
You think to yourself, seeing the print just faintly. You swallow, taking the divide and inputting yoi contact.
The pair leaves, Your heart trobbbing as you take a breath. Being any type of romantically involved with your students' parents was highly unprofessional...but the rules never said anything about hot tattooed uncles.
-in the car-
Sukuna buckled Yuji into his seat, passing the child a happy meal he'd picked up as payment for a job well done.
"Nice work. How bout next time you mention your Uncles got no girlfriend either." He laughs, backing out of the parking space with your number and a grin.
Authors Note; Ok yes i wrote this on a whim I swear I'm trying to finish the stuff I had listed on my update post lmao
Also might make a part 2 for this cause I freaking love this au
#unkuna#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#reader is black#x reader#jjk au#jjk headcanons#uncle sukuna
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the thought of a big strong man ejaculating prematurely during a makeout sesh 😞
oh you know i had to do this for the cloudz….WALK WITH ME
with eunseok it would would early in the morning. your body draped lazily over his. your hands are pressed to his face, nearly squishing his cheeks as you keep bringing his face up to meet yours. both of you would barely be awake, just focused on kissing. eunseok’s hands eventually go to your waist, bringing your body completely over his.
his hands move from your waist to your thighs, guiding you bring them up. your ass ends up perking up a little bit more, and you two just start going through the motions, not thinking anything of it. one moment your just swiveling your hips against eunseoks’ and kissing him, the next he’s basically panting your name into your mouth and his grip on your thighs is almost bruising. you don’t even realize what’s happening so you keep kissing him, not knowing he is cumming in his pants underneath you.
when you finally pull away eunseok’s face is sooooo red, and he’s laughing from how surreal the situation is. he blames it on the fact that he’s so tired and didn’t have his guard up and you absolutely tease him for it the next couple of days.
with sungchan it would happen at a party. you two flirting all night eventually led to you pulling him away, maybe outside or tucked away in a dark corner on top of the sofa. you two would be side by side, thighs pressing against eachother while you made out. he would be so caught up in you, how soft your lips are and how you kiss him just right. you two found the perfect rhythm so fast, and you grip his hair with just the right amount of force.
he thought he had it all under control, but when you move your arm to the end of the sofa beside him, basically caging sungchan between you and the couch he didn’t stand a chance. having you hover over him, tilting your head to take control of your makeout session while pulling at his hair a little tighter caused his mind to short circuit.
i think also sungchan wouldn’t say anything, he would probably try to distract you as he embarrassed himself. all of his self control would go into keeping up with your kisses, and bringing his hands to your face so you couldn’t pull away. all you knew was that when you two stopped kissing he avoided eye contact with you as he got up from his spot quickly to go to the restroom.
with anton it would be on his couch during a movie night. it had been awhile since the two of you had seen eachother, and he prepared a little movie night for the two of you to hangout again. now though, the movie long forgotten as you two were just busy sucking on eachother’s faces. you had moved from your spot on the couch to straddle anton, and his hands rested comfortable on your ass. you were no better, feeling him up and touching whatever part of his body you could get your hands on.
i think out of the three of them anton would be the most aware of what’s going to happen. he would be taking breaks in between your kisses, murmuring “babe slow down.” while laughing shyly as you continued to kiss his moving lips. but both of you were too desperate to stop, trying to make up for lost time. so you didn’t slow down as you kissed anton fervently, and you didn’t slow down as you purposely settled your hips deeper against his.
when you moved to anton’s neck, he let his head lean back to rest on the couch. he had to focus on the ceiling to keep everything at bay, he even tried to focus on the dialogue of the movie to try and distract himself. but you started sucking on the most sensitive part of his neck, and you moved his hands from your ass to your chest. when anton felt the vibrations of your moans against his neck in between the sucking and the feeling of your teeth pressing into his skin no amount of self control or distraction could help him.
it hit anton like a freight train, he was holding onto you with all of his might, eyes screwed shut as little ah ah ah’s slipped past his lips. you knew what was happening, grinding your hips against his to give him some friction. anton was whimpering pathetically by the time he was done, hands moving to his face as he shook his head.
“i can’t believe that just happened.”
#blurbz#01zfan: eunseok#01zfan: sungchan#01zfan: anton#eunseokz#sungchanz#antonz#riize smut#eunseok smut#sungchan smut#anton smut
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Runaway Lover, Part 3
Pairing: Professor!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, possession kink, all consensual. Power imbalance. Spoilers for the Red Rising Saga by Pierce Brown.
Summary: Having to see Stunna day in and day out is physical torture. So much so that you have to take matters into your hands. However, once Stunna learns that, he has an alternative to benefit you both.
Word Count: 7,193k
Part 1 | Part 2
A/N: WHEW, I needed this in my life. They're so cute, I can't stand them. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Artists need it for their enrichment.
Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @blackpinup22 @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui
If there were nine circles of hell, you were most certainly in the tenth. Stunna walked in thirty minutes ago wearing a delicious black outfit. It was simple. A black polo shirt, black slacks, no show socks, and white tennis shoes. He wore a few rings, gold bracelets, and a gold necklace peeked out from his collar.
He was, in a word, completely sexy without even trying. And it was absolutely wrecking you. True to your word, you didn’t wear anything provocative. You didn’t wear dresses or skirts, just a heavy rotation of leggings and graphic T-shirts.
But you thought that he was still checking you out. That you caught little glimpses of him smirking or his eyes roving over you.
Stunna did not keep his word, however. He continued showing up to class like he was being interviewed for television that day. All of his outfits had been cataloged thoroughly by you and likely by every other person in the class.
The first week without him was torture beyond compare. The second week felt like your chest was getting cracked open. You saw him a few times a week and you had agreed to not text him. To not call him. And try like hell to not think about him.
That lasted for about…two classes. Before you were running back to your dorm in the middle of the day and letting your vibrator work off some of those nasty thoughts from class. The vibrator was good but paled in comparison to the size of his massive dick.
It couldn’t compare to his hands running over you, manhandling you, or to his filthy words whispered in your ear. You looked away from him unless he saw the look all over your face. But just like with everything else, he seemed connected to you on a deeper level.
His eyes found yours and his jaw flexed. You clenched your thighs and shifted in your seat. Catching on, Stunna cleared his throat and moved across the floor towards a podium. He got everyone’s attention.
“I hope you all did the reading assignment because I want you to break into smaller groups and share your thoughts about the latest chapters. We have enough for about three to a group, I’ll let you pick since you’re adults. But please, if you’re going to partner with friends, actually discuss something about the book,” he said.
That caused a few giggles but your stomach only sank. You didn’t truly have friends in this class. You weren’t the type that was friendly to everyone simply because you were taking the same class.
“Wanna be my partner?” The strawberry blond girl next to you said. You were pretty sure her name was…Samantha?
“Sure,” you said. You didn’t really. You didn’t want her to spontaneously start talking about Stunna. Sitting through his class was bad enough. But pretending like his initials weren’t sewn into your heart was another level of acting that you weren’t great at.
She had recruited someone else, a boy named Khalil that almost rivaled Stunna in good looks. He was lighter with a fade, strong jaw, and a football player build with big arms, narrow waist, and powerful legs. If you weren’t already spoken for, you’d be crushing on him. As it were, no other guy did it for you now.
You introduced yourself formally to him and he smiled. His smile was cute. But nowhere near as devastating as Stunna.
For the next couple of minutes, you discussed the book from the homework assignment. You talked about what you liked and didn’t like about the characters. You heard Stunna moving about the room, checking in with groups and posing challenging questions.
You dreaded the moment he made it to your group. “What you think about using Reds as an entire labor force? Keeping them ignorant, dumb, and too stupid to see that they weren’t getting any closer to the dream?” Khalil asked.
You turned your head to him, confusion likely flitting across your face. You didn’t mean to be biased, but you hadn’t thought he’d have something intelligent to say. He was as quiet as you and you saw him doodling most of the class.
He smirked. “I’m not all good looks,” he said.
You rolled your eyes at the joke and shook your head. “I find it funny that a lot of these sci-fi authors can understand using people for labor is wrong, highlighting the conditions they’re under, and the sheer insidiousness of oppression, but lack any real Black people in their books.”
“Then again, do you really want the Reds to be Black? They damn sure ain’t gonna have any Black golds,” Khalil said.
You laughed, because sadly that's the truth. The Red Rising Saga was an interesting series, but honestly, adult sci-fi writers bored you to tears. They were so stuffy and too into their own wordy prose that they lost the whimsy. The excitement of exploring a new world.
You didn’t need to know every single soap at a market when the more interesting story was about the two main characters who had to find common ground.
Samantha looked completely lost, turning a shade of red that you didn’t think was possible. You stared at her, wondering if she would say anything. You weren’t going to do the work for her or give her an easy out. Khalil seemed of the same mindset as he looked at her as well.
“Well, I find it extremely noble that Darrow did all of this for his love,” Samantha said.
Coward. “Yeah but in this day and age, are we really still fridging women?” You asked.
She was saved from answering from a delicious aroma preceding an equally delicious man. Stunna interrupted, leaning against a desk near your group. He asked what you were discussing and you finally lifted your eyes to meet his.
Huge, huge mistake. You could get lost in those eyes of his. Like sitting underneath a dark night sky looking for stars. You smiled briefly at each other before you turned your attention to Samantha who turned a darker shade of red. Seriously, you were starting to get a little worried.
“We were…um…” She faltered as Stunna looked at her.
Again, jealousy reared its ugly head as she hemmed and hawed her way through a bullshit answer. But you saw the way that she tossed her hair back, batted her eyes. Giggled even though there wasn’t a damn thing funny about the book or your discussion.
“We were talking about the role of women in the book. How Io was fridged and even though there are other women, they are distinctly cold and calculating most of the time. In a society based heavily on Roman culture, it’s a wonder he bothered to put any women at all in it,” you said.
Stunna leaned back, turning his attention back on you. Whoops. You should have let Samantha fumble through her answer. Or better yet, have Khalil come to her rescue. Black dudes usually did after about five minutes of second hand embarrassment.
“I’m sure the author would have gotten flack for not including women or sending the dangerous message that women can’t perform in war games,” Stunna said.
“I’d rather they not do it at all. That’s better than having to sit through ten pages of pining because one of the main girls followed the winning side,” you said.
Just like that, it seemed like you and Stunna were the only two in the room. He listened, which was rare, but he seemed to genuinely think about what you were saying.
“So say you were there, fighting and trying to win the war games. What would you have done?” He asked.
You smirked and launched into all the things you would have done differently. The war games funneled down to a rivalry between two men who got personal. War wasn’t personal. Not when one of the qualifying tasks was killing someone and being let out into the wild with the survivors of their matches.
Stunna listened with rapt attention. You felt like beaming under it. He made you feel like the sun and your body warmed the more he asked more questions. He was clearly the more professional of the two of you, because he included Khalil and Samantha in the discussion as well.
“Good work, this is a good group,” Stunna said. He moved on to another group, passing by you once more. You gasped as he moved as if it were a physical weight on your heart for him to go too far away from you.
Samatha sighed loudly. “He must think I’m a total idiot. You two were so prepared. And me? Ugh. ‘Um, I think I would have aligned with Darrow’,” she said, mimicking her own voice.
“Your answers were just as good, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Khalil said. And there it was. Like clockwork. Goodness forbid she put herself down and has to live with it.
“Do you think he would even go for a student? Obviously not someone in his class, that’s wrong. But like…after?”
Khalil laughed and shook his head. “No, I doubt he’d risk his job for something that stupid. You have thousands of appropriate guys to choose from at this school,” Khalil said. He gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe Samantha was serious.
You smiled and shook your head. There was no way that Stunna would breathe in Samantha’s direction. Because he was already breathing in yours. Once more, you felt the weight of all that transpired in Punta Cana.
You had no way of knowing that you were boning your teacher, that couldn’t be held against you. The second time though…you still had flashbacks of getting bent over his couch and possessed. Owned. The way he staked his claim and made sure that there were no doubts in your head. You were sprung, in the worst way, and you didn’t know if you could make it to the end of the week without him. Let alone another ten.
Class winded down and Stunna congratulated everyone on their ideas and going deeper. Your cheeks burned. You were never going to think about anything else all day.
You had been sitting in a puddle of your own arousal since Stunna walked into the room. You needed to get to your daily sesh as soon as possible. Because the gold gleaming off of his skin was making you drool. You had already cooked up a pretty nasty fantasy in your head and you needed to get it out of your system or risk going crazy.
“I just want to remind you all that my office hours are open. Scheduling is preferred but if you need extra help, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stunna said. Oh, make that two nasty fantasies in your head.
He let class out and while you packed up your things, Khalil got your attention. “I just wanted to say that I really liked what you were talking about in class. I know people start to roll they eyes when it comes to the role of women in books, but you’re right. Darrow wouldn’t be doing half that shit if his wife was still around,” he said.
“Thank you! I just kept thinking that the entire time I was reading. Like ugh. To be fair, the way she died was horrific as shit. That’d call anyone to drastic action.”
“See exactly! I..um,” Khalil said and licked his lips.
The class was nearly empty by now. You zipped up your bag and threw the strap over your shoulder. You were nearly bouncing with the desire to get with your vibrator. In a short amount of time, Stunna turned you into a sex fiend. Desperately chasing the high of having him inside you and soaking you with his cum.
You tilted your head at Khalil. If he didn’t spit this shit out, you were going to run him over.
“Is everything okay here?” Stunna asked.
You gasped, feeling caught or exposed. You wondered if your horniness was written plain as day on your face. The way you wanted to climb him in this outfit. You could see his skinny ass ankles and now you very much understood every regency show you watched. That bit of ankle was killing you.
“Yeah, yeah. Just talking about the book. I’ll, uh, see you later,” Khalil stammered and then disappeared so fast, there should have been smoke on his heels.
And now you were alone with Stunna. Dangerous. Dangerous territory.
“He seems nice,” Stunna said with a small smile.
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, opting for a tease. You knew it was wrong. You had no reason to doubt the way Stunna felt for you. But being apart from him was killing you. You had no way of knowing if the time apart made him realize how inappropriate this was. If it was better to cancel the 12 week waiting period and move on.
The silent gasp stole all the breath in your lungs. Thinking about not being with him instantly made you dizzy.
“If I was? Would it change anything?” He asked.
“No,” you said, your voice small as you looked at him. This shit sucked. It sucked, it sucked, it sucked. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw your arms around him and hug him at least. Damn. You couldn’t even touch him without risk of it leading to rumors.
“I miss you,” he said softly.
“I miss you,” you said.
You stood and stared into each other’s eyes, a mirror of loneliness and wanting.
“You don’t have to be jealous. You know that,” you said.
Stunna ran a hand down his face, looking weary. You hated this. You hated that you couldn’t comfort him. You wanted to hold his hand and walk across the beach again.
“Doesn’t change the fact that I am. That he’d be more appropriate than I would,” he said.
You swallowed around the huge, dry lump in your throat. You didn’t want to call attention to the elephant in the room. You didn’t want to think about the end. Your anxiety leapt off with all the implications of his words.
“Are you…saying that we…” God, you couldn’t even get the words out. Tears were already burning and you were not an easy crier.
“No! Fuck no! Hell no!” He said. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest. There were too many conflicting emotions. You needed your brain and heart to line up. Because while you were sad about a possible ending, you couldn’t help admiring the cut of his arms across his black outfit.
“I bought a calendar to mark off the end of class. You’re mine and I meant that,” he said.
You giggled to cover up how much you were desperate to hear that from him. “Good. Because so did I,” you said.
He laughed but it ended quickly as you went back to sharing and communicating without words. You ached to ask him what he’s been up to, what he’s been reading. You had a lifetime of his to catch up on and you wanted to know every single detail. But you didn’t have that kind of time.
“I should probably…” You said.
“For sure. My bad,” he said. He stood up, letting you pass. You smiled at him and took a few steps, that chain connecting you two growing taut.
“Can you come over tonight? I…miss you so fuckin’ much,” he said.
“I can’t…” You said.
“I know. I’m sorry for asking. That's not fair,” he said. He nodded and avoided looking at you.
You sighed. You needed to walk away. You needed to think about the bigger picture. If you two slipped, even once, it would spell disaster. All it would take is one person overhearing you, one person asking too many questions, one person catching the way you two looked at each other…
Your chemistry was a physical thing. You felt it every time you looked at him or thought about him. You weren’t sure if it was the same for him. If he felt this all consuming urge to run to you and never let you go. You were sure that his feelings were strong. But how strong?
Strong enough to survive a public scandal? He just got here. You refused to be the cause of him losing his job, ending up a national joke, or have this following him around for the rest of his career. He was just getting started. You couldn’t stand in the way of that. You wouldn’t.
Armed with that knowledge, you had just enough self-preservation to leave the room without another word. The shit hurt, like it always did. But then again, you and pain weren’t strangers. You said hello to your old friend, letting the ache wash over you and remind you that this was for Stunna. He would always come first.
“Dammit,” you huffed. You made it one month with no physical contact from Stunna. No text messages or dirty pictures to tide you over either. Just your imagination, horniness, and ole reliable. Until ole reliable stopped working mid sesh.
You clicked the button but the damn thing was gone. Finished. You really needed to get a rechargeable one but you would die trying to plug that thing in somewhere for a few hours. Stella and Angela would never let you live it down.
You tossed it on your bed and tossed on the nearest bottoms, a skirt that covered what it needed to. You went looking through your room for spare batteries. You just needed a little more time. You were soaked with sweat already, feeling like the nasty girl Stunna praised in Punta Cana.
Stunna gave a rare lecture today. Finished with one of the books on the list, he swerved into poetry. He talked about plays as well, Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe. He heard everyone’s groans, thinking Shakespeare was so high school.
But then Stunna had to go on and start reciting some of the words to Romeo and Juliet. He went on about how it really shouldn’t be taught to teenagers. Not because it was too complicated, but because teens needed to do a little growing up to appreciate Shakespeare’s words.
There needed to be a little heartbreak before it sunk in just how much these two wanted to be together but were separated by circumstance. God. He had the entire class melting with that one.
You especially. You felt like he was talking directly to you. The pining, the yearning of Romeo and Juliet. There was a reason that story had endured for hundreds of years. There was a reason he had to be the one to teach it.
“There’s beauty in yearning, isn’t there? Humans love to torture themselves but never more so when it comes to matters of the heart. Unrequited love, loving the wrong person, giving in to things that you know you shouldn’t. Indulging in something so bad but it makes you feel so good. That is why poetry exists. To shine a light on these moments,” he had said and fuck, you wanted to push him down on the desk and suck the soul out of his body.
You couldn’t get out of the classroom fast enough. Too keyed up. Too horny. Burning with the need to jump his bones but unable to do so. And now your vibrator wasn’t working and there wasn’t a damn battery in the fucking dorm.
You searched Angela and Stella’s rooms, not finding a shiny fucking Duracell. Does no one need batteries these days? You longed for the junk drawer at home that was always good for one more battery. It was magic and you missed it.
“Fuck,” you said. You went back to your room, leaning against the doorway. You had a very important executive decision to make. Your next class wasn’t for some time, but you didn’t have that much time. You needed to get off and had a hard time cumming with just your fingers.
You could walk away, but then…why deny yourself that pleasure? You were already denying yourself riding the tilt-a-whirl on Stunna’s dick and you couldn’t handle these thoughts in your head any longer.
It was a miracle you made it a month. You made sure not to linger after class anymore. You were weak. You could feel your resolve crumbling every time Stunna looked at you. Every time he spoke, joked, or engaged a different student in a friendly debate, you felt like stripping down, bending over, grabbing your ankles, and letting him have his wicked way with you. Other people in the room be damned.
Shit. You already answered your own question. If you couldn’t have him, then you needed Little Stunna. Yes, you named your vibrator after your incredibly hot and untouchable teacher and you’d take it to your grave.
You slipped into flip flops, grabbed your keys and wallet, and headed out of the dorm. You had time. You had time. You repeated this to yourself as you left the dorm building and headed across campus towards the bookstore.
It wasn’t the first time you’d gone commando but you felt like everyone could look at you and see what a horny pervert you were. You felt a spotlight burning into your back, broadcasting that you were just neck deep in a fantasy where you were a confused girl lost in the woods and Stunna was a half naked jungle man helping you find your way, with a pit stop on his dick.
Listen, Brandon Fraser pretty much ruined you for all other men until Stunna came along. You watched George of the Jungle one too many times. So much so, you had the campfire song from the movie etched into your memory.
I’ve been waiting for you all my life, hoping for a miracle
I’ve been waiting day and night, day and night
Would there ever be a moment that you didn’t relate absolutely everything back to Stunna? Probably not.
The bookstore was clean and fresh, somehow giving off an incredible Academia aroma that couldn’t be achieved anywhere else. It smelled like learning. Like school spirit.
It was blissfully empty and you made a beeline towards the technology section. You scanned for double A batteries, eyes lingering on other stuff. You debated if you should get another pack now or when you needed it.
You still had three more months to go. “Fuck,” you sighed. Three more months. They might as well tell you that you really were in the tenth circle of hell. You’d believe that an eternity at college, studying the same shit over and over, and staring at your untouchable hot professor was a punishment designed particularly for you.
Fuck it, you’d come back later when you weren’t a delicate mess at the moment. You couldn’t handle one more fucking thing…
You backed into the aisle and into someone solid. “I’m so sorry!” You screamed, turning around and staring up into Stunna’s beautiful face.
“I’m very sorry, I wasn’t looking,” he said. When it clicked that it was you he bumped into, he immediately stepped closer. His warm hands hovered around your arms like he wanted to steady you but knew he couldn’t touch you.
“I’m fine,” you squeaked. You wanted to die. He was the last person you needed to see at the moment. The absolute last.
You still had images of him in nothing but a loincloth fresh in your mind. Surrounded by dozens of animal pelts. You butterball naked and spread open for him. You rubbed your forehead. This shit wasn’t normal.
“You don’t seem fine,” he said, lowering his voice. “What are you picking up?”
You hid the batteries behind your back. You didn’t know if he saw them already, but best to pretend anyway. Pretend that you were here for something innocent and not because you were slutting him out in your fantasies.
“I got a little bored in between classes and thought I might pick up a book,” you said, totally making that shit up on the fly.
“A book,” Stunna repeated.
“Yup, we are in a bookstore,” you said with a nod, to prove your point.
“What kind of book?” He asked. He straightened up, clutching his own book to his chest absently. He smirked. You ought to have seen it for what it was and not encouragement to continue with your obvious lie.
“You know that one…mystery author I love,” you said, waving your hand around.
“Really? What’s their name, maybe I’ve heard of them,” he said.
You looked around for help, but you were at the back of the store. The academic bookshelves were behind him and faced horizontally. You could only see the end caps from where you were and there were no leisure books listed.
Those were all the way at the front of the store. Fuck. “Brain freeze,” you said and shrugged. You were painfully aware that you didn’t have any panties on, likely still had some of your essence between your thighs, and Stunna was right there.
He wore a plain olive green shirt, a cream sweater, and light brown pants. Once more his ankles were exposed, and his huge shoes. He looked damn good.
He checked you out as well, nose flaring at the skirt. He lifted an eyebrow to you. You folded your arms.
“I didn’t think I was going to bump into you. You can’t dictate my clothing choices all the time. I told you to dress like a bum,” you said.
“I gotta stay fly. What are the batteries for?” He asked.
Heat flooded through you, making the bookstore swelter even though air conditioning pumped out of the vents. You looked down at your folded arms and the batteries.
“Remotes. You know, you can’t have too many backups. Those damn things are constantly going out,” you lied again.
Stunna smirked and stepped forward. He towered over the short shelves. “What’s it really for?” He asked. He said your name and it sounded like both a plea and a demand all wrapped into one.
“For something I don’t wanna tell you about,” you said. Your cheeks were burning and your stomach did somersaults. It would win the Olympic gold medal four events in a row if it could.
“Why not?” He asked. He sounded so patient. So demanding. So in control that you couldn’t help the tiny sigh escaping.
“It’s crossing our line,” you said.
“Tell me anyway,” he said.
You couldn’t look at him as you finally said, “My vibrator ran out of juice while I was fucking myself with it,” you said.
The heat of his gaze made your body flush. “You’ve been using a vibrator? For how long?” He asked.
Dangerous, dangerous territory. But you were tired of fighting. Of being good. “Since about the third class,” you said.
He leaned back, running a free hand down his face. “You really thought a vibrator could replace me?” He asked.
“No! That’s why the fucking batteries are shot to hell. I’ve been using it so damn much, I could be a spokeswoman for it,” you furiously whispered.
His eye traveled lower to your skirt and the way that you stood with your legs practically crossed. His eyes continued to move and you were starting to get nervous. What was he seeing? What was he putting together in his head?
“Did you finish?” He asked.
“Stunna…” You warned. You already crossed so many boundaries. You were in public. You were discussing this shit in public, as if you were ready to throw your degree down the tube. Ready to throw his career down the drain before he had a chance to get started.
“Did you finish?” He repeated, a lot slower and a lot lower. It wrecked havoc on your lower body.
“No,” you answered.
“Office. Meet me there in five minutes,” he said.
He brushed past you before you could say anything else. Before you could list the ways in which this was a terrible idea. Your mind helpfully offered all the ways in which this could go wrong. You stood there for a beat too long, staring at the batteries in your hands.
If there was a chance for the real thing…no, no, no, one of you had to be an adult about this. Had to stick firmly to your side of the line and not cross it. But you were tired. Weary. Fighting a mental battle every day as well as a physical one. You needed him. You just plain wanted him.
You still bought the batteries because you weren’t that fucking stupid.
You rushed over to his office, pretending like everything was fine. You were not on the way to do something incredibly dumb and immature. But fuck you needed him inside of you. You needed his hands on your ass. Spread open over his desk, chair, couch, or the floor. Wherever.
You were absolutely an addict for Stunna. You could admit it now that you were on the way to do this. You didn’t know why people continued to lie and say, “It just happened”. No. There was always room for doubt. For second guessing. A moment where you had to stop and use your brain.
You were using your brain. It was just telling you to, “Ride that dick”! In the English building, you took the elevator to the admin floor where teachers had their offices. It seemed empty, most of the offices open with the lights off.
You still drifted until you found his office. He was seated behind his desk, looking pensive. You could leave. He didn’t have to know you were here. It was a momentary lapse. Nothing more.
Before you could back away, Stunna looked up and caught you in the doorway. He stood up, pulling you inside. He checked the hallway before closing the door and locking it.
“Stunna, you know we can’t…especially not in here,” you said. You widened your eyes. Tried to give voice to all the reasons you couldn’t do this.
He didn’t respond. He just crossed the room, grabbed your face, and crashed your lips together.
“I just want to help,” he said. He went back to kissing you, to providing you with the much needed oxygen you had been missing for the past month.
You moaned into the kiss, dropped your keys, wallet, and batteries on his desk and then hugged him to you. You couldn’t stop your hands from roaming, searching, seeking, and re-learning his body all over again. What made him sigh, what made him hiss, what turned him on.
You bit his lip and he gasped, moaning. His tongue played with yours. Your teeth scraped together. You never felt more complete, more whole, than standing here in his arms once more.
The month disappeared in your eyes. You were transported back to that night in his hotel room. Like no time had passed at all. You were back in his apartment, two bodies meeting each other over and over again.
His hands went down to your skirt, but he didn’t push. He toyed with your naked ass, squeezing the globes, and fingers skirting closer and closer to the middle. You shook violently in his arms, dripping with arousal already.
You’d have thought some ancient beast possessed you and made you a vessel of horniness. You just wanted to be filled up. Connected.
Stunna pushed you until your butt hit the desk. You sat down and spread your legs. He spread you even further. He kissed down your neck. “You gotta be quiet,” he whispered.
Yeah, right. He kissed down your neck before dropping to his knees. He flipped your skirt up and looked his fill at your glistening pussy. He gave you a nasty wink before he dived in, licking the seam of your pussy lips before finding your clit.
You arched and gasped on his desk. One of his hands came up around your throat, trapping any sound you would make. He used his other hand to drape your leg over his shoulder, opening you up to where he could get all of you.
He suckled on your clit like a starving man. Slurped and licked every inch of your pussy. He dipped his long tongue into you, shallowly fucking you. You gripped the edge of the desk, immediately feeling like you were going to burst out of your skin.
It only took a few more licks for you to burst completely, cumming on his tongue. You made tinny, airless cries and he had to apply pressure to your throat to keep you from screaming out like you wanted.
You shook and twitched on his desk and he continued eating you out like he wasn’t finished. On the heels of the first, you were plunging right back into a second orgasm. Or maybe this was a delayed continuation of the first. Whichever it was, you were out of breath by the time it ended.
Stunna stood up, wiping his mouth and using his tongue to get the rest off of his lips. He kissed your forehead, leaving a wet spot there that you never wanted to clean. You melted, sighing into him, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“Fuck, I needed that,” you said. So much better than your vibrator.
“I needed it, too. I’m sorry I crossed our line, but that skirt…hearing you been taking care of yourself…” He bit his lip and you wanted to know what the hell he was thinking.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve been taking care of yourself. I seem to recall some filthy words about a shower?” You asked.
“The shower, the bed, the kitchen, the table. There’s a lot of surfaces in my apartment,” he said.
That only thrilled you. That he had been getting himself off to thoughts of you. “Not the same, huh?” You asked.
“Not at fucking all,” he said with a grin.
“Well…you don’t have anyone coming for office hours?” You asked. You were already here. Already crossed that line. You might as well go for gold.
“Nope,” he said, a wicked smile crossing his face. Perfect man with his perfect teeth. “We should behave though. These walls are thin as hell.”
“I can be quiet if you can,” you said. You hopped off the front of his desk. You grabbed his hand and led him around it to his side. You pushed him into his chair. He lifted one eyebrow at you, a smirk hovering on his lips.
“What you got in mind?” He asked.
You kissed him instead while you freed his dick from his pants. He helped you push them down enough so it wouldn’t interfere. You turned around, wiggling your ass a bit. You looked at him over your shoulder and the look he gave you….rooted you to the spot.
You were both so deeply in love with each other. You just knew, from the crinkle in his eyes, that you were it for him. And he was it for you.
You scooted into his lap, legs on the outside of his. You lifted up, grabbed his thick dick, and then slowly slid yourself down on it. You shared a quiet groan as he slid into place, slid right back home where he belonged.
It wasn’t the best angle for riding, but if you rode him cowgirl, you’d have to stare that love in the face. You acknowledged it, but it was still scary as hell. You used the desk to lift your ass and sit back down on his dick.
Stunna grabbed your waist, helping you along. He cursed softly as he moved you a little faster. You meant to be the one doing most of the work, feeling only slightly guilty that you relied so heavily on his powerful legs to stroke into you.
But he showed no signs that he was on that same wavelength. He only kissed the back of your neck, softly moaning in your ear. Wretched little sounds that drove your pleasure higher.
Your mind sunk into a fuzzy comfort as you quickly rode him. “Perfect, fucking perfect. You’re perfect,” he stuttered in your ear.
Your pussy gripped onto him, sucking in the sheer massive size of him. He was thick, for sure, But he was thick everywhere. From the tip to the base, he had a consistent hardness that felt like you were really getting piped down.
You bobbed on his dick as much as you were able to, both chasing an incredible high. You just needed…a little…
Stunna’s fingers moved forward, gathering up slick, and then played with your clit. His rough fingers flicked that little bundle of nerves until you were shaking and crying. He used his other hand to cover your mouth.
You tried, you really did try to stifle your moans. It was not easy. Not when every part of you wanted to let out a scream to rock the foundation of the building. You wanted to scream for everyone to hear that you were in the throes of a powerful orgasm.
Stunna cursed and then he was joining you, flooding your pussy with his cum. You would never get over the sensation of his hot, pulsing cum shooting out of him. You shivered, pussy clenching around him like it wanted to keep it all inside.
Stunna dropped kisses to your cheek and the back of your neck. “How the hell did we make it a month without this?” He whispered.
“How the hell are we going to make it another?” You asked.
You fell into temptation. You finally made love to him again and fuck. Your fantasies were severely lacking. You needed to ramp them up. You had to build that wall back up between you.
“You saying this becomes a monthly thing? Congrats on a month without sex, here’s some head,” he said.
You laughed softly. “I mean…” You weren’t opposed to the idea. You could hide one encounter. You could keep this off campus, at his place, like a dirty secret in the night. At this point, you had no self-respect. Not when it came to Stunna.
“No, no. We have to be good. This was…”
“Perfect,” he said. You giggled while he nibbled on your ear. Fuck, you missed him. Missed being in his arms, filled up by him.
You wiggled your ass. “Quit playin’,” he said, injecting a level of dangerous warning in his tone.
You wiggled your ass again. You were playing with fire, but hell, the heat never bothered you anyway.
You turned to look at him and give him a saucy wink when a knock sounded on his door. You froze.
Your heart rate jumped to a thousand beats per second, fingers glued to his thigh. Your stomach turned watery, fear unlike you’d ever felt thrumming through your veins. This was it. The moment you got caught.
You’d look back at this moment as The Moment. The Moment when your life came crashing down. You were literally caught with your teacher’s dick inside you. There was no way this wouldn’t be in the news cycle this very evening.
You could picture the jokes. Getting Extra Credit. Oh, is that what the kids were calling it these days? A little Hot for Teacher.
Stunna’s hands went back to your waist, squeezing slightly. You looked back at him. His eyes were wide but he looked calmer than you did. He lifted a finger to his lips and you nodded.
The knock sounded again, and then again before the silhouette in front of his door went away. Neither of you said a word for five minutes straight.
Stunna was the first to blow a breath. “I think we’re okay,” he said.
You scrambled off of him, removing his softened dick, and then went around the desk. You needed a physical barrier between you at the moment.
“I’m sorry–” You lifted a hand, cutting him off.
“I’m not mad, I-I’m really fucking scared,” you said.
“I know, I’d never put you through this…”
“I’m scared for you, you idiot. If they catch us, you could kiss working here goodbye. You just fucking got here,” you said. Unfortunately, there were no panties to indignantly pull up.
You were still a bit wet with his cum dripping out. But now you were full of dread and worst case scenarios.
“Me? Whoa, whoa, don’t worry about me,” Stunna said.
“How could I not? I–” It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him you loved him, but you weren’t ready for that. Wasn’t sure when you would be. It was scary to love him after a short period, to look at him and know that he was your soulmate. You knew he felt similarly, but soulmate? Would that freak him out?
Stunna stood up, stuffing his dick back in his pants. He fixed himself and came around the desk, invading your personal space.
“I’m the one that dragged you here. I’m in the wrong. And if this were to get out, don’t you ever try to protect me,” he said.
“You get to protect me but I can’t protect you?” You asked.
“No, that’s not the way this works. You protect yourself, always. I’ll protect you,” he said.
You laughed bitterly. “You’re so full of shit. You think I’m gonna stand there and let you take all the blame?” You asked.
“Yes, that’s exactly what you need to do,” he said.
You scoffed. You grabbed your things off of his desk. “Fuck you, Stunna. I’ll be damned if you fall on the sword for me. I’m an adult. I can make up my own mind,” you said.
“Don’t you get it? I can’t live with myself if I fucked up your degree,” Stunna said.
“And I can’t live with myself knowing I fucked off your job,” you said quickly. “This isn’t a game, Stunna. This is your life.”
“You are my life,” he whispered.
You reared back as if he’d yelled at you. He stepped forward, cradling your head in his hands.
“I know it’s sudden. I know it hasn’t been a lot of time. I know I’m probably scaring you. I just need you to be okay. I’ve been able to hold it together this past month because I know that in a few months, I’ll have my life back. But not if I jeopardize this for you,” he said.
“Then how do you think I feel? How could you think that I don’t feel the exact same way?” You asked.
Stunna kissed you softly, like you had all the time in the world to do so. You didn’t know how long he kissed you for, only that you felt loved and cherished the longer his lips were on yours.
“We’re just two idiots in love then,” Stunna said.
You smiled at him, all the wonderful, gooey feelings tangled in your gut.
“Two idiots in love.”
Need more Stunna? The Secret Big Stunna Files
Part 1 | Part 2
#Megaminds Secret Files#The Secret Big Stunna Files#Big Stunna x Black!reader#Big Stunna x Black reader#x Black reader#Big Stunna x Fem!reader#Big Stunna x Fem reader#x Fem reader#Big Stunna x plus size reader#Big Stunna fanfic#Big Stunna fan fic#Big Stunna fanfiction#Big Stunna fan fiction#yahya abdul mateen ii#All Day and a Night fan fiction#All Day and a Night fanfiction#All Day and a Night fan fic#All Day and a Night fanfic#yahya abdul mateen ii smut#Big Stunna smut
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At the End of the World
(Cooper Howard x Reader)
A/N: I have no idea what is going to happen next ya’ll. I need to figure out what direction this shit is going in cause I’m so lost 😭
Warning: mentions of child death, mentions of panic attacks, nothing outside of canon
Word Count: 2.4k
Summary: You open up to Lucy about your past. Here is Part 1 and here is Part 2
As you followed Cooper back down the hallway towards the kitchen, Lucy passed you both.
“We’re leaving soon, girly.” You told her.
“Okey-dokey! Just gonna get my things together really quick.”
Back in the kitchen, Alma was lighting herself a cigarette.
“Icy May said the girl is the daughter of a Vault-Tec big wig.”
”What’s it to you?” Cooper looked over to Alma.
“Cooper.” You said his name almost scoldingly. He didn’t need to be rude to Alma. She had been gracious enough to let the three of you stay the night.
His eyes flickered over to you. He took a puff of his cigarette, flicking the ashes into a metal pan on the table.
Lucy was just beginning to make her way back down the hallway when she heard her father’s name.
“She’s gonna be our key to get close to Hank MacLean.”
Lucy stopped, her brows furrowing together as she listened more carefully. What were they talking about?
“How do you feel about that, Icy?” Alma asked. There was no answer for a couple seconds.
“I’ve thought about killing her so many times, Alma. I-I lost my Grace and that bastard got to see his little girl grow up—,” You abruptly stopped talking.
Lucy took a step backwards. You had thought about killing her? Lucy couldn’t believe it. You had been so nice to her, so much more concerned about her than the Ghoul was.
***
”How do you feel about that, Icy?”
Your gaze found Alma. You were quiet for a few moments, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’ve thought about killing her so many times, Alma. I-I lost my Grace and that bastard got to see his little girl grow up and—,” You stopped yourself, shaking your head softly.
Alma watched you, a pitiful look twinkling in her eyes. She knew your story, had heard first hand from you the heartbreak and the horrors that you had had to face.
“But she doesn’t…. She doesn’t know about her father, Alma.” You pulled a chair out at the table and sat down in it. “Her vault believed they would be the ones to repopulate the earth, that they were the chosen ones…. She has no idea that he was instrumental in destroying the world.”
”Well, I’m sure she’s finding things out the hard way.” Alma sighed out.
As she left the room, Cooper tried to follow her, but you stopped him.
“Why won’t you tell me what Lucy said to you, Coop?”
He stopped in his tracks, shoulders falling slack as he let out a heavy breath. He adjusted his hat, tilting the brim down a little more to cover his face as he turned to face you.
“She, uh…. She asked if I loved you.” His voice was quiet.
You looked at him, almost shocked by what he was saying.
“If-If you…” You tried to repeat his words but they got caught in your throat.
In the two decades or more that you knew the ghoul, neither of you had spoken such words to each other. Maybe it was a little ridiculous that it hadn’t happened yet, but to share something so special, so beautiful in a world marred with death and destruction…. It felt wrong. It felt dangerous.
Cooper stood there for a few minutes, watching the wheels turn in your head. What were you going to say? How were you going to react? Now wasn’t the time to be discussing such things. Not in Alma’s kitchen, not while Hank MacLean was still stirring in the front of your mind.
“Why did you get so worked up over the question?” You murmured.
Still, Cooper was silent. He peered out from underneath his hat to meet your gaze.
“I reckon I don’t like her askin’ me questions like that, doll.”
You nodded your head gently. You stood to your feet and closed the space between the two of you. You messed with the lapel of his jacket, fingers gripping the old, worn leather.
“Don’t let that vault dweller get under your skin, old man.” A little smile tugged ever so slightly at the corner of your lips. “You got bigger fish to fry.”
A crooked grin crossed his features. His hand slipped around your waist to draw you closer to him.
“We better get this show on the road.” He dipped his head down to seal a kiss on your lips. You brought your hands up to his shoulder and the side of his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. His hand on your waist moved around to your lower back, offering you support as he pushed even harder against your lips.
“Careful—,” You tried to speak but his mouth prevented you from doing so. “Easy-Easy…. Cowpoke.”
You pushed him back a little, giggling as he fought against you. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth and then your cheek and your temple.
“You’re kissing me hard enough to leave bruises, old man.”
”Just you wait ‘til we don’t have that vaultie to worry ‘bout.” He finally loosened his grip on you and adjusted his hat. “Bruises will be the least of your worries.”
”Oh, I’m shivering in my boots.” You teased him. “I’m going to go get our little vaultie.”
”You girls need to hurry up. We’re losin’ daylight.”
You slipped around him to go down the hallway and see where Lucy was.
“Are you ready to go, Lucy?” You poked your head into the room she had been staying in. She was in the corner of the room furthest from you, standing rigid with her arms by her side.
Your left eye picked up on her heart beating fast.
“What’s wrong?”
”You’ve thought about killing me?” She whispered.
Your shoulders fell. She had heard you. You let out a sigh, crossing your arms and leaning against the frame of the door.
“Yeah, I have.” You nodded. “Your father has done horrific things, Lucy.”
”No. No he hasn’t.” She firmly shook her head. “My father is a good man.”
”I don’t know how to get you to believe me. Vault-Tec, a company your dad works for, dropped the bombs. They killed so many people, Lucy.”
Still, she didn’t believe you. Her blue eyes stayed on you, brows furrowed together.
“Grief has a way of making you feel certain ways. Part of me has thought about killing you many, many times as a way to get to your father. But I wouldn’t hurt you.”
”I don’t believe you.”
You nodded your head gently.
“Either way, we need to get moving. Cooper’s an impatient man.”
Lucy crossed her arms.
”I’m not going anywhere.”
”You can do this my way— and come with us willingly —or Cooper will come in here and tie you up.” You turned and left the room.
***
For the first hour or so of your walk, none of you spoke.
Part of you felt bad. She had begun to trust you and you knew just how bad it felt to have someone you trusted betray you.
“I had to kill my husband, Lucy.” You spoke, making sure your voice was loud enough to hear from where she walked just ahead of you.
Upon hearing your confession, Lucy stopped walking so that she could fall in line beside you.
“Why?”
”It was just after the bombs dropped. We were barely making it. Everything…. It was so much worse then than it is now. I didn’t know the things I know now…. My husband’s name was Adrian. He, um, was affected by the radiation. No one knew what a ghoul was at that time. We had seen people around us turning, seen what they were capable of. There was no medicine to keep them from going feral…. We were staying at a camp just outside of Anaheim here in California. My husband and I…. We saw a mother who was affected by the radiation attack her own children.”
You paused to take a deep breath. You could still hear the sounds of her hissing and growling, the sound of her tearing her children into pieces.
“Adrian and I decided that we couldn’t stay there any longer. We didn’t know if it was some sort of sickness going around or what but…. We left the camp. A week later, my husband began to get worse. The coughing, the hissing….” Goosebumps rose across your skin as the memories echoed in your head. “He begged me to kill him. He-He didn’t want to hurt me or to hurt Gracie. At that point in time, I hadn’t killed anybody. Hell, I had never even thought about killing anyone. But my Adrian was my first.”
”Icy, I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head, blinking quickly to get rid of the tears in your right eye.
“Shortly after that happened, Vault-Tec found me. They put my girl in a cryochamber and started their little experiments. Took almost everything on my left side. My eye, my arm, my lung, my leg…. All of it is what they called cybernetic. After they were done, they threw me in one of those chambers too.”
”How did you get out?”
You took a deep breath.
“The vault the chambers were being kept in was raided. Me and my daughter barely escaped. That was about twenty years ago, give or take a few.”
“You don’t look that old,”
”Whatever they did to me, it slowed down my aging.”
”And your daughter? What happened to her?”
You bit the inside of your cheek. It took you a while to be able to say it out loud.
”Icy.” Cooper’s raspy voice came from behind you. You came to a stop, eyes dead set on the vast emptiness ahead. “Your heart’s beatin’ too fast.”
He knew you were about to talk your way right into a panic attack.
”I’m okay.” You took a deep breath once, twice, then three times. You needed to regain control of yourself.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Lucy shook her head.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” You insisted. “We need to keep moving.”
”We’ll make camp tonight and tomorrow, we should be passing through Bolder some time in the morning.” Cooper looked to Lucy and nodded his head in the direction that the three of you had been walking. “Get movin’, vaultie.”
Lucy gave you one last glance before she started walking.
“Come on, doll.” Cooper reached out to put his hand on your back, offering you support through the small touch.
”Don’t treat me like I’m crazy, Cooper.”
”I ain’t treatin’ you no way. Just don’t want to see you get yourself all worked up. You’ll start hyperventilatin’ and then you won’t be able to breathe right. You’ll fuck yourself up for the rest of the day with that iron lung of yours.”
You said nothing.
***
Later That Night
Cooper stood in the doorway of the rundown shack the three of you were staying the night in. He leaned against the worn wood, a cigarette perched between two fingers while his eyes scanned the Wasteland before him.
It was dark out, but every so often the clouds would part enough for the moon to shine its light over the emptiness.
The Ghoul glanced down, watching the ashes from his cigarette fall to the ground.
Movement behind him made him turn his head. Lucy was awake. She glanced over to him momentarily.
”Can’t sleep.” She said, pushing herself to her feet.
”Welcome to the club.” Cooper placed his cigarette between his lips.
Lucy slipped past the ghoul, who watched her carefully. What was she doing? Surely she wouldn't try to make a run for it, not with him watching her.
Cooper’s hand found the rope hanging on his hip. He was ready to use it if need be, but the Vault Dweller sat down on the side of the hill that led up to the shack.
She pulled her knees loosely to her chest and looked up at the sky.
Cooper took the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing smoke through his nose.
“I never knew the stars could be so pretty.” Lucy commented.
Cooper said nothing, not that she expected him to.
Silence fell between them. The only sound that could be heard was the breeze blowing through the few trees around the shack.
“I’m sorry about earlier.” Lucy apologized.
“Don’t worry about it.” The ghoul muttered.
“How did you meet Icy?”
Cooper finished his cigarette, throwing the end of it onto the ground.
“You just like to yap, don’t you?”
Lucy looked away from him.
He stood there for a few moments, debating on whether or not to entertain the vault dweller.
What the hell.
Cooper moved to sit down, putting plenty of space between himself and Lucy.
“‘Bout twenty years ago, there was a bounty put out for her.”
”What was the bounty for?”
”Didn’t say, but she said it was Vault-Tec. They wanted her back, I reckon, ‘cause of whatever science experiments they were doin’ with her. The bounty notice didn’t say anything about the little girl travelin’ with her.”
”Grace.” Lucy murmured.
“If anyone had gotten their hands on Icy for that bounty…. who knows what would’ve happened to Grace.” Cooper pulled out a carton of cigarettes and took another cigarette out. “So I agreed to help get them across the Wasteland. West of here was a city many considered a refuge. Icy just wanted me to take her and her little girl there.”
Lucy watched as the ghoul’s face lit up as he put the flame of the lighter beneath his cigarette.
“We got a day or so into the trip when we came across this run down dumpster of a place. It was an old trader’s post turned into a little village but the folks who lived there had long since disappeared. What we didn’t know was that a paranoid fella had set up shop. Littered the whole place with traps and trip lines. Grace got ahead of us. Icy saw the line she was about to run into and…. Well, there wasn’t much that could be done after that.”
“Oh my gosh.” Lucy whispered.
Cooper could still feel the way you had gripped him so tight as he shielded you from your daughter.
“I can’t…. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your family like that.”
Cooper flicked his cigarette, shaking his head gently.
“Ain’t a feelin’ I’d wish on my worst enemy, vaultie.”
Lucy looked over to him, eyebrows drawn together just slightly. That was perhaps the first time she had seen something in his eyes that resembled humanity.
Taglist: @green--beanie @mack-attack420 @miniemonie2001 @eykismyfav @fallout-girl219 @msrawog @midwesternwitchery @classaysstuff @keyofgigi @sunnexaltation @ghcstvibess @jayden-okayden @grippleback-galaxy
(I’m so sorry if I missed anyone, and tumblr was being stupid and wouldn’t let me tag a couple of you :()
#fallout#queenxxxsupreme#fallout tv show#the ghoul fallout#the ghoul#cooper Howard the ghoul#cooper Howard#cooper Howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#cooper Howard fic#the ghoul fic
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We drift in and out
Chapter 2: Share the same space for a minute or two
E/NSFW/MDNI
CW: Domestic fluff, postpartum thoughts and bodies, angst, hurt/comfort sex
2.7k
Ch.1 AO3
“I’ll take first watch,” John said, setting down the diaper bag and the baby carrier on your dining table as you tossed your keys in the bowl and breathed a sigh of relief.
It was late by the time you returned home from the hospital. Between the hourly blood pressure checks and constant feedings, you hadn’t gotten much rest while you were there.
And let’s not forget that every trip to the bathroom was harrowing, and fraught with more discomfort than you’d anticipated. The nurses practically babysat you until you’d had a successful piss. Apparently, it was an integral part of the healing process and could cause life threatening complications if you didn’t empty your bladder regularly.
You didn’t know what you looked like down there, but you could certainly feel it. You’d cried out so sharply, John burst through the door to find you sobbing and shaking on the toilet.
After that, you doubted he would ever look at you romantically again.
But you made it through, fueled by adrenaline and instincts. You just wanted to be back in your own space. To the nest you’d built away from the poking and prodding of strangers. Of the astringent smells of industrial cleaning products and the cold glare of fluorescent lighting.
John had stepped out just long enough to buy a car seat so that he could drive you and the baby home in his truck. He’d laughed when you told him it was unnecessary, and you’d planned on taking the bus back to your apartment.
“Nonsense, I insist,” had been his only reply as he kissed your forehead as if to leave you too flustered to argue.
You had a feeling you were the talk of the nurses’ station. The juicy drama of your life must’ve seemed more captivating than the latest episode of television. They were all genuinely sorry to see the three of you go.
The three of you.
“That’s not how it works, John,” you assured him. This wasn’t a stake out. He was going back to his apartment, and you were putting the baby to sleep in the cradle you’d put together yourself until she awoke hungry and wet in two hours.
And that’s how it would be for the next 18 years of your life.
“You need some rest.” He tucked his arms across his chest and cocked his head downward, as if to intimidate you with his size alone. You imagined it was a practiced tactic, and that it probably worked on his subordinates. Sent them scrambling to please him.
But John didn’t scare you. Never did. It was what kept you going back to him. Or perhaps more like waiting for him, all those years. An easiness. A comfort.
“I’ll sleep when she sleeps. That’s what all the books say.” Despite your confidence, you yawned against your will as you unhooked your daughter from the carrier.
You still hadn’t gotten used to how light she was, and yet how substantial she felt in your arms.
When you looked back up to John to tell him ‘Thank you’, and that you could take it from here, you were met with something you’d never seen in him before.
A longing. Something unshed in his eyes, and unsaid on his lips, as he took a step toward you as if to reach out.
“Do you want to hold her?” In all the commotion, you realized that John hadn’t held her yet. Aside from the few times he’d lifted her gently from the hospital’s bedside crib to pass her to you, as if she was a live grenade.
Maybe it’d made him uncomfortable. To come back, expecting to return to your casual arrangement, only to find you knocked up with some other guy’s kid. To be honest, you hadn’t expected more than a passing hello in the hallway.
For him to take one look at you and never call you again or darken your door for a quickie at midnight. He’d move on to someone from the gym, or the café girl down the street.
Except, he hadn’t seemed uncomfortable. He’d seemed in control, focused. Calm and steady as he’d adjusted your shitty hospital-issued pillow or fetched you a refill on your water. Averted his eyes respectfully while you worked tirelessly to get the fussy newborn to latch onto your breast.
Had he not wanted to intrude? Was he waiting for permission?
“I really do need to take a shower,” you added when he hesitated.
He’d be gone by the morning. Might as well take advantage of his help while it was offered.
“Good.” He nodded at that, relieved to be of service, as he took the sleeping babe from your arms with a grace you didn’t expect from his big, gnarled hands.
A grizzled bear, holding something so soft and small in a white sleeper dotted with blush pink roses. She didn’t even shift at the change from one of you to the next. Content and unbothered in her dreams.
After taking your time in the shower, knowing it might be your last for a while, you emerged to see the two of them on your couch, watching the nightly football coverage on the telly. John was talking to someone, voice raised with heated enthusiasm, and you assumed he was on the phone with one of his mates.
But as you inched closer, you realized he was recounting his opinions on the latest match to the infant on his chest.
“You can put her down if you want,” you smiled, as you motioned to the bassinet. “You don’t have to hold her all night.”
“I tried, but I can’t tell if she’s breathing when she’s over there. Quiet little thing.”
There was nothing in the baby books and videos about seeing a man who’d been inside you hold your child as if it was the most precious thing in the world. How it could change your brain chemistry. Make you stupid in ways you never thought you could be.
You sunk down onto the cushion next to them. He urged you to go to bed, to get some sleep before she woke up again, but you didn’t want to leave just yet. You wanted to see them like this. To be a part of whatever mischief was transpiring between them.
Laying your head on his shoulder, you closed your eyes and let sleep slowly find you.
“Sorry I missed it, love.” He kept his voice low, but it rung with a depth of emotion that cut through your slumber.
“Hmm, missed what?”
“Everything.”
*******
He didn’t leave the next day, or the day after that, except to shower and change clothes in his apartment, or pick up food from your favorite chip shop down the road. Every time he did go, you expected him not to come back.
Assuming he had returned to his usual schedule of sleep, eat, gym, fuck, repeat. With the fucking being someone else, of course. That you’d hear footsteps down the hallway outside and look through your peephole, covered in baby spit-up and leaking breastmilk, to see him leading a beautiful young woman into his flat.
Instead, weeks went by of him driving you to doctors’ appointments and joining you for walks in the park. Decaf iced lattes and naps on the couch. The faint smell of cigar smoke was the only indication that he’d taken a bit of time to himself.
The pang in your heart, and in your gut, when he carried the bags of dirty diapers down to the bin and sang Paul McCartney tunes horribly off key to get the baby back to sleep while you soaked in the bath tub.
Every day was a gift, you reminded yourself. He was just being nice. Playing house until it was time for him to go, the way you always had before. Except this time, he hadn’t even kissed you or made any advances other than a playful hug or a supportive rub of your shoulders as you pumped an extra supply of baby bottles.
None of your clothes fit anymore. You were too slim for your maternity jeans, and not quite down to your original weight. Maybe you never would be. Maybe you were the new you.
Nothing but forgiving loungewear and tinted moisturizer to hold you together.
It didn’t stop you from wanting him.
You’d think the trauma to your reproductive organs would swear you off sex for at least a few years, but there you were. Three months postpartum, salivating over his shirtless chest and slickening at the bulge in his sweatpants as he ate a bowl of tikka masala at your kitchen counter.
Maybe that was how you persevered as a species. The carnal urge to make the same mistake over and over again, consequences be damned. It would appear you hadn’t evolved beyond it.
Your doctor guaranteed you that you were fully healed and could resume sex with your husband (you’d long given up trying to explain away the six-and-a-half-foot beast keeping your child company in the waiting room as anything but) any time you felt comfortable. Had even started you on a new birth control. Hopefully one that worked this time.
But feeling comfortable and feeling desirable were two different things. John wasn’t your husband. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He had expressed no desire to be anything more than just a...friend? What was he even doing sleeping on your couch?
‘Go find someone fun and exciting and leave me to rot in peace,’ you wanted to scream at him.
A menace was what he was.
Finally, you stopped trying to get yourself off with your vibrator and threw it against the wall in frustration. A groan escaped you as you turned over and muffled a scream into your pillow.
You instantly regretted it the moment a soft knock sounded on your bedroom door.
“You all right in there?” He opened the door a crack and the light from the hallway peeked through.
“No, not really,” you whined, pitifully. Grateful that you hadn’t woken up the baby with your little tantrum.
You noted the displacement of the shadows as he bent down to pick your still buzzing vibrator from the floor and switched it off with a muffled laugh.
“Not doing the trick, is it?”
“I’m glad you think this is funny. I don’t even know my own body anymore." Fuck, you did not want to be having this conversation with him.
“What do you need, love?” He set your stupid, useless toy on the bedside table and leaned against the mattress. It tilted you towards him with his weight.
“I need to know that I’m still me. Somewhere in here. That I can still...” you felt dumb. You were a mother. You had a child to worry about. And all you cared about was whether or not you could still—
“Come?”
You nodded vigorously, feeling dumber by the minute. And he was there, in the dark of your room, smelling like pine trees and black pepper. Somehow, underneath it all, like your baby. Even though she wasn’t his.
Confusing and frustrating, and—
His mouth trapped yours then, cutting off any further conversation as his hands hitched under your nightshirt and yours found the waistband of his pants.
“I need you, John,” you gritted between teeth, both yours and his.
“Stubborn you are. Been waiting for you to ask.” He buried his face between the swollen flesh of your tits. Licking and lapping at your skin.
“Careful, they—”
“Squirt? I know. Not what I’m interested in, darling. They’re not mine anymore.”
He moved past your breasts and down your stomach. The raised scars where your skin had stretched too far, too fast. Making room for life within.
You were grateful he couldn’t see them in the dark. Even still, it felt like he found each one with his lips.
“Perfect, you are. You did so good.” You didn’t know what he meant. Only preened at the words as your cunt rose toward him and he moved lower towards your hips.
“Easy, John. Easy, please.”
You knew how big he was. He was the same, but you were different. Changed. You couldn’t do it. It’d been too long. Healed over and shaped anew.
“I know, baby. There’s nothing you can’t handle.”
His tongue met you then, in the cleft at your center. Teasing and taunting, he circled where you needed him the most. Hitting it just right and then moving away when you were teetering on the edge.
His beard and mustache grazing the sensitive nerves around the nub, inflaming you further until you pulsed at the absence of his touch.
Only for him to replace his mouth with the tip of his cock. Hard and thick, it nudged and prodded as it sought a weakness in your soft, wet entry way.
“You’ll tell me if it hurts, won’t you? I know how you like to be brave.” He bit out with a grin.
Brave? You were a disaster. Is that how he saw you?
“Please don’t stop.” The words rushed out as a shudder.
You’d take it, you’d take anything to feel full, to feel him. The pull and tug of being consumed.
Still, he hesitated. Pausing just at the tip. Speechless and restrained.
“Stop being so nice.” You squirmed and sought to meet him, pull him closer.
“There’s a girl. See? Not gone after all.” His teeth dug into your neck and you arched your hips against his.
So familiar. So at home.
He sunk in then, as if with your permission. You clasped and guided him in like the other half of you.
“How does it feel?” You didn’t mean to sound as wanton as you did. You needed to know.
“Like heaven, love. Like fucking heaven.”
He lips found yours again, savoring, remembering, committing you to memory as he reclaimed your pussy for his own. As much his as it was yours.
Offering himself in return.
Pumping in a slow rhythm at first, matching you, following you. Your legs around his waist and his hands tugging your hips to hit that perfect fucking spot.
It was still there. It hadn’t moved. He’d found it like lighthouse in a storm.
“You ready, or do you need more?”
“Don’t stop.”
He grunted then, drawing some sort of strength as he kept his rhythm and touched a free hand to your clit for help.
“Yes, yes, yes!”
He found you. When you couldn’t find yourself.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”
“Fuck, John!” You came with a rush of power and nature as he found your mouth again. He drank your sobs and replaced them with sounds of his own.
Tears filled your eyes and slid down your cheeks.
“You all right?” He asked against your neck, when you began to still, but you could only nod.
“I’m good. Thank you.” Simple words for how you felt.
“So fucking brave.” He wiped away your tears and nuzzled your cheeks with his bearded lips.
The couch sat cold and abandoned after that.
*******
But you found him a few weeks later, ashen-cheeked and staring troubled at his phone.
The baby was packed up in the pram and ready for a walk. She could smile now, and glowed with excitement and kicked her feet whenever her dark brown eyes met his glittering blue.
“I have to go. Got called in.” He turned a weary gaze towards you. Regret softening his usual starry skies and adding years to his features.
You knew this day would come, but it surprised you all the same.
A blow to your chest, taking the air from your lungs and tearing out your heart.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back.” The death blow to any hope you’d had that it was a training exercise or a weekend conference.
What if he was gone for another year? So much could happen. The baby would be walking. Talking. You’d be back to work by then. Trusting a stranger with her care because you didn’t have anyone else.
And who would he be when he returned? Always a little different than before.
“It’s okay. We’ll be okay. Just be safe, yeah?” You steeled your spine and tamped down on the tears that threatened behind your eyeIids.
You’d never cried for him before. Never worried about him.
No messy feelings. No expectations. Great sex and a pleasant company, right?
“I’ll say no. They can assign it to someone else.” Even as he said it out loud, you knew he wouldn’t let that happen.
“I had a plan, remember?” A reassuring smile to match the one he’d given you so many times before. “And you were never a part of it.”
He’d called you brave. You’d find out soon enough if he was right.
#call of duty#john price#captain price#price x reader#captain john price#cod fic#captain price x reader#john price x reader
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For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 3]
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
summary: paige and azzi find themselves in a very sticky situation, with only one way to get out
a/n: none of this stuff is accurate to the time line in real life but who cares
word count: 1.4k
masterlist w/ all parts
“Two weeks in and you’re already causing problems.”
Azzi shrunk under the critical stare of Geno Auriemma. Although Geno was a physically stout man whom she would’ve towered over had they been standing, he was still extremely formidable in his legacy as a basketball coach. This was the seven-peat titled NCAA coach of the year, who’d guided UConn to eleven nattys and USA to three olympic gold medals, and he was glaring at her.
“I’m sorry, sir, but-,”
“And you,” Geno interrupted, fixing his reproachful frown on Paige. “You’re going to be captain this year, and this is how you lead the team?” The blonde shifted uncomfortably in her seat, glancing haughtily at Azzi. “Frankly, I’m very disappointed in you. The fact that multiple of your teammates had to inform me about your behavior is very concerning.” Paige hunched her shoulders and stared at her feet, looking like a puppy who’d gotten kicked to the side of the road.
Geno focused his attention back on Azzi. “Cursing at your teammates? You signed the player contract, Fudd. We don’t tolerate foul language or bullying of any kind. Do you know what the punishment is?”
Azzi’s mouth went dry. “I don’t know, sir, but I promise I can explain.”
Geno’s eyebrows dipped down, and his mouth was pulled into a firm line. “The punishment is suspension from all non-NCAA pre-season team activities. This includes next month’s tour in Europe, since we’re only playing exhibition games.”
Everything went blank. Azzi’s heart raced, disbelief coursing through her veins. She’d only been at Storrs for two weeks, and she was about to get kicked out of the European tour that she had been looking forward to so much. What would this mean for her? She’d miss out on team bonding, and even more importantly, wouldn’t be able to debut for UConn with the other freshmen. She’d be behind, and all her teammates would hate her, and the sports news outlets would go crazy with gossip over her suspension and-
Paige’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Geno,” she said solemnly, “I have to tell you something.”
Azzi gaped at the blonde. Was Paige about to play the hero by admitting that she was the one who had started all the arguments?
“Azzi and I are dating.”
Okay, that was very much NOT what she had been expecting to come out of Paige’s mouth. She shifted in her seat, about to speak out in horror because the mere thought of dating Paige made her want to throw up, when she felt the other girl lay a palm on her knee.
Geno looked between the two of them, surprise evident in his eyes. “You two? Dating?”
“Yeah,” Paige shrugged. “We uh, wanted to keep it on the down low. So that we wouldn’t distract the team. So we decided to act like we didn’t like each other, but we might’ve taken it a little too far.” Paige chuckled, and Azzi had to restrain from rolling her eyes. Even she could tell that Paige’s laugh was forced.
Geno opened his mouth to respond when his phone rang. He looked down and grunted. “Give me one second,” he said before picking up the phone and slipping out of the room.
As soon as the door closed, Azzi swatted Paige’s hand that was still on her lap. “What the hell was that?” She hissed. “I don’t know what kinda weird kinky stuff you’re into, but dragging me into this is not cool.”
Paige’s eyes narrowed. “Just trust me, okay? I might be an asshole, but not enough to get you kicked off our trip to Europe. Just follow my lead.”
Azzi was about to protest, not understanding how telling Geno they were dating could save her ass, but he stepped back in before she could. Paige squinted at her, as if to make sure she was in on the plan. Azzi was completely and utterly confused. But she didn’t know what else to do, and she really wanted to go to Europe. So she decided to go along with Paige’s schemes, at least for now.
Their coach interlaced his fingers, resting his chin on them. “So what you’re telling me is that you two are in a relationship? A romantic relationship?”
Paige nodded, a little bit too enthusiastically, before taking Azzi’s hand in hers. She tried not think about how soft and warm Azzi’s hands were. “Yeah. I promise you that Azzi didn’t mean anything. She just gets a little bit too into her role sometimes, you know?” Paige smiled fondly at her, and it seemed so genuine that Azzi herself was almost convinced that they were dating.
“I promise, though, that there’s no bad blood between us. None at all.” She squeezed Azzi’s hand, signaling that it was her turn to shine.
“For sure!” Azzi’s voice came out high pitched and squeaky. Feeling Paige’s hard side eye, she cleared her throat and tried again. “There’s nothing but love here. Right, sweet cheeks?”
Paige winced, and Azzi realized that that might not have been as smooth as she’d thought. But the blonde forced back a smile, coming to her rescue. “Geno,” she said pleadingly. “Do you have to suspend Azzi?”
Geno took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “I’m having a hard time believing that you two are dating.” Both girls nervously waited with their breaths bated. “But,” he continued, “since you guys apparently are, I now have a request for you. My daughter Paula is doing a little video series on the team this year as part of her assignment for her film class. She’s been wondering how to approach the personal life segment, but now you two just opened a wonderful opportunity for her!”
Paige and Azzi exchanged looks. This was not what they thought they were getting themselves into.
“If you could help Paula with her assignment, by you know, showing the dynamic between you two and how that can translate to chemistry on the court,” Geno paused, studying them over the rim of his glasses, “I could possibly see about giving Azzi a lighter punishment. Like cleanup after practices. Nothing as severe as suspension from the Europe tour.”
“Send Paula our numbers,” Paige said immediately.
Geno’s face brightened, and he looked at them with a pleased smile. “Great! I expect both of you to keep your relationship professional during practices and games, but other than that, you have no objections from me.” He sat back in his chair with his arms crossed. “Have a good day, girls,” he dismissed.
The two basketball players hurried to leave. Once outside and walking down the corridor, Paige turned to Azzi. “Sweet cheeks, really?”
Azzi blushed furiously. “Stop,” she complained. “I didn’t know what else to say.”
“Okay, honey buns,” Paige smirked, elbowing her gently in the side.
They fell into silence as they walked. “So what do we do now?” Azzi finally asked. “Pretend to date?”
The taller girl furrowed her eyebrows. “I guess. But just to make it clear, I don’t have feelings for you. I’m doing this because we can’t start off our season without one of our players, especially one as…promising as you. It’s for the team’s better if you’re in Europe - it’s for the love of the game.” She stared straight ahead as she spoke, avoiding eye contact with Azzi.
“Okayyyy,” Azzi trailed. “What’re we gonna tell the rest of the team?”
“They can’t know,” Paige responded quickly. “Did you see how all the stuff we said to each other got back to Geno? We’re gonna have to pretend in front of the team too.”
Azzi halted in her steps, realizing the full extent of what they were about to do. “You realize this means that we’ll have to act like a couple basically all the time right? We’re always with the team.”
The corner of Paige’s lips turned up. “What?” she asked. “You scared you’re gonna fall in love with me?” When she saw the look on Azzi’s face, she said in a more serious tone, “Don’t worry. We can always break up after Geno’s kid finishes her assignment. I think the issue is making everyone believe we’re dating after…you know.”
Azzi nodded, deep in thought. “We can say that in the meeting with Geno, he forced us to spend time together and we just kinda grew on each other.”
Paige made a noise in agreement. “It’ll be kinda hard, though,” she said. “Not being mean to you.”
“Shut the fuck up. And for the record, I’m straight. I will absolutely not fall in love with you.”
“We’ll see about that, sweet cheeks.”
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Temptation and Need
Summary: Can Y/N tempt Dean into what he needs?
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), face-sitting, cum shot, overstimulation, big age gap (21 and 43), dirty talk, dub-con (sort of - the reader not taking no for an answer), masturbation, voyeurism (very brief), use of a vibrator, spanking, (brief), pussy slapping (brief).
Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N
Word Count: 3,895
A/N: A million years ago (okay, last December) I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:
hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap with dean winchester where the female!reader is like in her 20s and dean's is his 40s :) just some rough smut with like hair pulling where dean asks for her to sit on his face or something like that (if you're comfortable with it) and just dirty talks cause I absolutely love them haha :) I really love your writing btw!!!! thanks a lot <3
It took me about four and a half months to get to this, but it's finally here! Thank you so much for this request, hope you're happy with it Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️
Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists
Y/N had known it would be good - no - amazing. Since the first time she’d laid eyes on Dean Winchester six months earlier, she’d wanted to feel him beneath her, above her, behind her, inside her. She’d wanted him any and every way she could have him.
She simply needed him with the heat of a raging fire that never cooled.
So she’d imagined this moment for more than a hundred nights, and she’d known it would be incredible. But her imagination had been woefully inadequate.
She’d been attempting to seduce Dean the entire time she’d known him. She knew that he knew how much she wanted him, but he’d been reluctant. Every time she sidled up close to him, he’d moved away. Any time she put her hands on him, his heart kicked up so she could feel it pound, and if she got close enough she could feel the hard evidence of his desire press against her. But inevitably he would gently lift her hands off of him and give her a look of warning.
“Stop this, Y/N.” He’d scold with heat pooling quick and fervid in his eyes.
One time he’d given her a look of exasperation and then scowled at her. “I’m too old for you dammit. I could be your father.”
She bit her lip and smiled, full of mischief, as she’d answered. “Well, I’m happy to call you Daddy, if that’s what you want.”
It was true that she was just barely twenty-one and Dean was forty-three, but she didn’t care. In fact, she’d always preferred older men. Men like Dean had experience and stamina, they knew just what to do to pleasure their partner. She’d never slept with anyone less than a decade older than her. Some people might say she had daddy issues (and maybe she did) but she didn’t care what other people thought - she pursued her own pleasure.
Yet in spite of plenty of sexual experiences with older men, despite all her fantasies about Dean, she’d never imagined this level of pleasure.
***
A few hours earlier:
Dean fell onto the library chair, closing his eyes with a groan and dropping his green duffel bag at his feet, just as Y/N walked into the room.
“You’re back!” She called excitedly as she hurried towards him. “How was the hunt? Where’s Sam?”
Dean grunted as she hopped into his lap. His feet were planted on the ground, and he was slightly slouched in the chair creating the perfect seat for her. His long, muscular thighs rippled beneath her, and as she wiggled against him, she felt the telltale sign of his desire as the bulge at the front of his jeans hardened slightly against her thigh.
The muscle in his jaw jumped as he gave her a scolding look. “The hunt was long and bloody, but fine. It's finished anyway. And Sam is with Eileen."
She ran her finger across the small abrasion on his cheek. "Well, at least you're less beaten up than usual." She said with dubious cheer.
Dean snorted. "Yeah, it was a walk in the park. Now get off my lap so I can go take a shower.”
She nodded and slid off so he could stand, but when he moved off towards the showers, she followed. When he arrived at the shower room door, he turned to look at her standing close behind him. He gave a sideways nod towards the door.
“This is as far as you go, sweetheart.” He said with a raised brow; his gaze turned knowing as she pouted.
She tried for her most convincing tone. “But just think of how much more enjoyable it would be if I came in with you.” She could see in his eyes that he was thinking about exactly that scenario.
But he shook his head. “No. It’s late, you shouldn't have waited up for me. Go to sleep.”
She pouted some more and then sighed before giving him a winsome smile and a wink. “Yes, Daddy.”
Dean scowled at her but she just stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before slowly backing away.
“Goodnight, Dean. I’m glad you’re home. I sleep so much better when you’re here.” She said truthfully.
He gave her a nod and then walked into the shower room. She heard the lock click and she sighed. Another night with nothing but her fantasies to sustain her.
She went to her room and got ready for bed, slipping on the AC/DC t-shirt she’d stolen from Dean. He knew she had it, he’d seen her in it, but he’d never demanded it back.
She crawled into bed and tried to go to sleep. But she was restless, her body aching in a way that wouldn’t end without Dean between her legs.
Her skin was flushed and the soft wool blanket she was covered with irritated her overheated flesh until she threw it off of her. She brought her hands up to cover her face; she knew she wouldn’t get to sleep unless she did something about the longing that had overtaken her body.
So she rolled over and pulled open the bottom drawer of her bedside table, pulling out the modest-sized vibrator she kept hidden in there for nights just like tonight. Since moving into the bunker a few months ago, nights like tonight happened pretty much every night.
She leaned back against her pillows and let her mind drift, allowing images to flash into her mind’s eye. Dean’s face, set in lines of intense desire; his hands, strong and hard, warm and rough, moving over her body.
She slipped her hand past the waistband of her panties, letting her middle finger swirl around her clit, desperately trying to imagine it was Dean’s thick, blunt fingertip pressing against her.
After a few minutes of bringing forth endless hot and decadent images of Dean into her head, she turned on the vibrator and let it press against her clit a moment or two before sliding it through her dripping slick, and pushing it inside.
As she fucked herself with the toy, she kept Dean’s body in mind - his powerful muscles and solid bulk - imagining him hovering above her. She worked at it for a long time, desperately seeking her release.
But though she moved the vibrating silicone cock fast and hard in and out of her quivering cunt, she just couldn’t find it. After half an hour of coming so close, but constantly missing the mark, Y/N was whimpering and more frustrated than she could express.
In desperation, she began to chant quietly, imagining that Dean was there with her and could hear her need. “Dean. Dean. Fuck me, please. Ugh, I need you so badly, I fucking need you.” Her voice crescendoed in a moan of disappointment as her orgasm stayed just beyond her reach. “Dean.” She whined as she bucked her hips desperately.
Suddenly she heard her door squeak open, making her squeal and rip the vibrator out of her body, shock coursing through her, making her heart pound. But then she fell completely silent as she saw Dean standing silhouetted against the hallway light.
For a moment or two neither of them moved. Finally, Y/N turned off her vibrator and silence reigned.
Dean finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I heard you. Heard you calling my name.”
He took a step inside her room; she could see now that he was dressed for sleep, sweats and no shirt - she gasped softly at the incredible view of his wide chest, his shoulder muscles flexing as his hands balled into fists. She could also make out more of his face; it was set in harsh lines, the muscle in his jaw flexing over and over. He licked his lips and her pussy clenched.
“Why were you calling me?” Dean asked, though he had to know the answer as she still gripped the vibrator, and the scent of her dripping sex perfumed the air.
She could sense that the cord that bound them, that had been pulling them together and apart since the day they met, was about to snap - if she could just say the right words.
She went with the truth.
“I was calling out to you while I fucked myself. I was imagining it was your cock buried deep inside me, imagining your hands on my skin, your lips on my throat.” Dean’s eyes were blazing emeralds with dark onyx pupils spreading across them as she spoke.
“But this thing wasn’t cutting it.” She said, lifting the vibrator and then dropping it on the floor beside the bed. “I need the real thing.”
She pushed her feet into the mattress and opened her knees wide, pushing her hand into her panties once again as she stared at him. “I need you, Dean. Please.”
The cord snapped and Dean charged forward, stopping at the end of her bed and grabbing her ankles to yank her towards him. She gasped as he placed a knee between her legs and rested his weight on his palms as he leaned down to capture her mouth.
His kiss was hard, desperate, almost violent, as he crushed her lips and stabbed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned at the weight of him pressed against her, lifting her hips slightly so she could press her aching cunt against his thick thigh. She groaned harshly into Dean’s mouth as the pressure caused an even hotter fever to rage across her body.
Dean pulled out of the kiss and stood up, taking hold of her hands to pull her into a sitting position. His chest was rising and falling with deep breaths as he grasped the hem of his stolen t-shirt.
His voice was all growl when he spoke. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt about ripping this fucking t-shirt from your body? How many mornings I had to sneak away to the shower to jack off like a fucking horny teenager, after seeing you parading around in it? It barely covers your ass, and every time you’d bend, even a little, I could see a glimpse of your little cotton panties, or sometimes, just your bare ass in a thong.”
His voice was slightly dark, a rebuke in his words. “I knew you were doing it on purpose, of course, knew it was your way of trying to tempt me into fucking ruining you.”
He yanked the t-shirt up over her head as a moan escaped her. Dean groaned too as he got his first look at her. “Fuck me.” He said quietly.
He looked her in the eye as he reached out and roughly tugged on her puckered nipple. She cried out, her head dropping back, as she arched her chest forward.
“God damn, baby, you really do want it, don’t you? I thought it might be a game you were playing, but you really do want me to ruin this hot little pussy.” He reached his hand down to rub against her soaked panties. “You want that, baby? Huh? Want me to fuck you sensless? Till you can’t walk? Can’t think?”
Y/N nodded disjointedly. “God yes.” She whispered, grabbing his wrist to try and press his fingers harder against her cunt. “Please. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Dean knocked her hand away and grabbed both her wrists tightly as he used his body weight to push her back onto the mattress. He stared at her, making her feel like he could see straight through her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer.
“How much experience do you actually have, Y/N?”
She shook her head to dispel any worries. “Enough. I’m no virgin, and I know what I like.”
His mouth lifted slightly at the corner. “And what do you like, baby?”
“I like it rough and hard, but I’ll take some soft wooing too.” She said with a grin. She shrugged. “Basically, I like you - a lot - and whatever you have in mind, I’m down for.”
Dean nodded. “Okay, but give me a safe word, just in case.” He kissed her softly. “I won’t take any chances with you.”
His concern for her made Y/N’s stomach flip in a pleasant way. She smiled. “K, how about ‘shenanigans’?”
Dean chuckled. “Perfect.”
His smile faded as he bent his head to kiss her again, slowly this time, thoroughly, as though he didn’t want to leave an inch of her mouth unexplored. When he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air, he slowly kissed a path down her body, between her breasts, stopping to nip and suck on her nipples, pinching one and then the other, before trailing his lips down over her belly.
When he reached the apex of her thighs, he got off the bed to kneel at the foot of it, pulling her panties down over her legs and tossing them aside. He reached forward to wrap his arms around her thighs, spreading her open and pulling her to his mouth. He made a deep, guttural noise as he sank into her cunt, immediately licking and sucking on her sensitive skin, so that she was writhing beneath him almost instantly. She called out his name in desperation as she sank her fingers into his short hair, tugging slightly when he speared her with his tongue.
He pulled away from her and licked his lips free of her juices. “Fuck, yeah baby, say my name again, just like that.”
He let go of one of her thighs so he could bring his hand between her legs and slap it hard against her pussy. Y/N gasped and then her hips bucked as he did it again.
“You’ve been a naughty girl with this fucking pussy, haven’t you? Pushing this dripping mess against me every chance you got. Fuckin' rubbing on me, and constantly begging me to fuck you.”
He smacked her a third time and Y/N felt her cunt throb with a deep ache. “Fuck, Dean yes! I’ve wanted you to fuck me, wanted you to take me apart for so fucking long. Please, please! Bury yourself so deep in me.”
She screamed in pleasure as he rammed two fingers into her, knuckle deep. As he crooked them forward inside of her, he leaned down to flick his tongue against her clit, making her rear up off the bed. She was so close now. She could feel the tension in her body just on the verge of snapping, when he suddenly pulled back from her, removing his fingers and causing her to wail and plead.
“No, please, Dean. More.” She whimpered pathetically as he stood up.
But then he pushed down his sweats and she caught sight of his cock for the first time. It was long and thick, just as she’d known it would be - everything about Dean screamed, “Big Dick Energy”. It was absolutely beautiful, red-tipped and standing at attention.
She sat up and reached for him, wrapping her hand around the base and sliding her tongue through his slit, licking up the pre-cum that beaded there. Dean stood rigidly, letting her lick at him like a lollipop for a couple minutes more before he pulled her hand away.
“That’s enough for now, sweetheart.”
She pouted at him, but he just leaned down to grasp her waist, lifting her slightly and tossing her further up the bed. She gasped at the pleasure of being manhandled like a rag doll. He was on his knees as he moved towards her. He grabbed hold of her calves and flipped her over onto her stomach before smacking her ass once and then twice.
She moaned and instinctively lifted her hips, pushing her ass towards him for more.
He slapped her again, and then ordered her, “Get on your knees, and lean forward to hold on to the headboard.”
She did as he said, grabbing on to the rails of her headboard tightly. He pushed her thighs apart before turning to lay on his back underneath her, pushing her knees open even further with his wide shoulders.
Y/N was surprised; she’d thought he was getting her into position so he could take her from behind; instead she looked down to see his beautiful face positioned directly below her dripping cunt.
“Sit on my face, baby. Fuck yourself on my tongue. Ride me.”
Y/N moaned as he lifted his head slightly so he could lick up through her folds. He dropped his head back to the mattress, though, and his voice was hard when he spoke.
“Now.”
Despite all of her experience, Y/N had never been ordered to sit on a man’s face, and had never had oral sex this way. At first she was worried that she could hurt him, so she just lightly gyrated her hips against his mouth. But after a minute or so Dean grabbed onto her thighs and spoke angrily.
“I said sit, not float.” His hands pulled her down, forcing her to rest heavily against his face, so that she was truly sitting on it. His nose rubbed against her clit and Y/N couldn’t help grinding down against his mouth. His tongue delved deeply into her cunt, stabbing in and out of her entrance.
Very soon Y/N was truly fucking herself on his face, using the strength of his jaw and the slide of his lips to create otherworldly sensations. Every once in a while she’d lift herself slightly to check that Dean was okay, but he’d always growl and pull her back down.
Finally she could feel her orgasm growing inside her, felt the coil low in her stomach tightening almost to the point of pain, but then it burst open and she screamed as she rocked her hips and slammed herself down against Dean’s eager mouth as he slurped up everything she gushed onto him.
Aftershocks of her climax along with Dean’s probing tongue and plump, sucking lips, brought on two more mind-blowing orgasms. It felt as though she’d been edging herself for months and was now finally free to let go; her whole body trembled as Dean finally pushed her back and then rolled her under him.
Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked down into Y/N’s face; she knew she must look strung out, and she could feel unconsciousness creeping in. Dean must have seen it too because he shook his head and swiftly shoved three fingers into her cunt making her come alive again with a shout.
“No way, baby. You didn’t spend all these months begging me to fuck you, just to get off with coming a couple times and falling asleep. I want you fucked out completely. I want you stupid and useless beneath me. I want to fuck you so long that you’re just a boneless, lump of cock slut laid out on the bed.”
As he finished speaking he pressed his middle finger against her clit and that pressure, combined with his filthy words, was all it took to have her shouting out her ecstasy once again.
As she was coming down, Dean slammed himself into her, forcing her clenching walls open so her cunt could squeeze him tight as he sheathed himself inside. He pushed her knees wide open, keeping her feet in the air as he jackhammered into her. He slammed so hard and so deep, she knew he’d leave marks.
And she knew she’d never experienced anything like it, nothing in her past, or even in her fantasies had prepared her for this level of raw passion and need.
She came two more times as he fucked up into her; he changed up his rhythm, going from hard and driving to slow and sensual as the mood suited him. By the time he flipped her onto her stomach Y/N did indeed feel boneless and stupid with pleasure.
“Please Dean.” She begged softly, not actually aware what she was asking for.
“Come on baby, I didn’t say we were done, don’t give out on me now.” Dean said harshly as he lifted her hips. Her knees rubbed against the sheet, but really she was being held in place with Dean’s strength.
“I’m gonna make sure you’re seeing stars.” He told her before slamming her back onto his cock, drilling even deeper inside than he had before.
Y/N gasped, her pussy was so overly sensitive after being fucked for so long, but she couldn’t escape the intense rush of pleasure that came as Dean slammed his cock against her sweet spot deep inside her.
“Fuck, yes.” She mumbled into the pillow where her face was buried.
“Yeah, that’s right baby.” Dean rammed into the spot again, making her scream, her throat raw from all her screams of pleasure. “Take every fucking inch. This is what you’ve wanted for months, isn’t it? Spent every minute I’ve known you trying to get us right here, haven’t you?”
He dropped one of her hips so he could spank her right cheek hard, watching it jiggle. “Answer me!” He demanded as he spanked her again before grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head up and back. “Tell me how much you’ve wanted this, little slut. Admit to prancing around this bunker, desperate for me to pin you down and fuck you just like this.”
“Yes!” Y/N gasped as he pounded into her over and over, never losing rhythm or strength. “Yes, fuck, yes.” It was all she could get out. She was truly exhausted, but she still chased the high he was raising within her with every thrust.
He spanked her again and then reached his hand around so that he could push against her throbbing clit. It took only a few circles with his finger, and a few more hammering thrusts before she shattered into a million pieces, seeming to shake and shiver forever.
As she came back to earth slightly, she could feel Dean pulling out of her. “I’m gonna come baby. Can I come on your ass?” She nodded and mumbled out a “yes.”
She heard him grunt obscenely, and despite her liquefied bones, her pussy still clenched at the sound, before she felt his sticky seed spurting across her ass, and lower back. He bucked forward, his thighs slapping against her ass as he shot another load, warm and wet, onto her skin.
Finally he fell to the side, and Y/N let her knees give out beneath her as she fell onto her stomach in complete exhaustion and immediate unconsciousness. She woke some time later to feel Dean wiping her clean with a warm cloth and pressing kisses up her spine.
When he saw her eyes flutter open, he tossed away the cloth and laid down beside her, kissing her nose and her cheek before pressing his mouth gently to hers.
“You were so fucking perfect, Y/N. Everything I’ve dreamed about night after night.” He shook his head. “No, you were even more perfect than I imagined, so much more.”
She smiled softly and raised an eyebrow. “So you agree? You were an idiot and we should have done this so much sooner?”
He scoffed. “N’ah, it was perfect this way, at this time. But it’s gonna be even more perfect next time.”
Y/N grinned at him and tried not to be too obvious about how thrilled she was that there was going to be a next time.
“I don’t know.” She teased. “You’re gonna have to try hard to do better than this.”
Dean grinned wickedly. “Challenge accepted.”
Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:
@lyarr24
@lacilou
@deans-spinster-witch
@globetrotter28
@suckitands33
@alwaystiredandconfused
@evznackles
@jackles010378
@impala67rollingthroughtown
@krazykelly
@candy-coated-misery0731
@envyaurora95
@spnwoman
@deans-baby-momma
@luvr4miya
Dean Fics Only:
@roonthelittlespoon920
@slamminmine
@zepskies
@safiyas-world
Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:
@kazsrm67
@slut-for-evans-stan
@sexyvixen7
@nancymcl
@hobby27
@waywardcheshire
Everything Incl. Fan Edits:
@k-slla
@leigh70
@eevvvaa
@kickingitwithkirk
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@avanatural
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@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone
@deangirl96
#dean winchester#dean x y/n#dean winchester smut#dean x reader#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester fan fic
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Don't Go Slowly, Tell Me If You're Lonely
Gojo Satoru x Reader & (past) Geto Suguru x Reader
Your relationship with Geto Suguru came to an end somewhere between the day of his betrayal and the day of his death. Your relationship with Gojo Satoru began somewhere in the midst of it all, even without you realizing.
WC: 6.2k
Content: Canon Divergence, Gojo x Female Reader (referred to as such but left descriptively vague), (past) Geto Suguru x Female Reader, Geto's canonical death, friends to lovers, angst, eventual happy ending, fluff later, reader is a sorcerer (left vague tho sorry), SFW (may change in later chapters idk), no use of y/n. More notes below.
Notes:
Product of an angsty Suguru Tik Tok. I have roughly five or so more chapters thought out for this, but that is subject to change as none of it is written yet. Canon events are loosely followed from Hidden Inventory and JJK0, but future events (Shibuya/Kenjaku) will not happen.
I've taken liberties with JJK canon/timeline for this fic. While not explicitly mentioned in the story, reader, Gojo, and Geto are all 20/21 with Nanami and Haibara being a year younger when the hidden inventory arc starts. There would only be 5ish years between HI and JJK0, and then another year or two between JJK0 and present day JJK where Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara are at the school (their ages stay the same and I’m sorry cause I know that wouldn’t fit with the changed timeline, but they will most likely only ever be mentioned through conversation in this story).
------------------------------------------
Chapter 1: Don't Go Slowly, Tell Me If You're Lonely (For the Sake of Understanding)
September
“Suguru?”
The dial tone was constant and unyielding, just as it was with the previous four phone calls.
Unanswered. Ignored. Avoided. Did it happen gradually, the pulling away of a boy who sat nestled in every major part of yourself? You could recall your last conversation, only a few days prior, and it was stilted in a way they hadn’t ever been before.
“Suguru?”
His reply was delayed, as if the distance that separated the two of you actually affected how quickly your words reached him. There were currently hundreds, maybe thousands of miles in between each of your current locations on Earth—missions and curses…they never gave consideration to lovers or their quarrels—and for the first time, the distance felt detrimental and significant.
“Hm, yes?”
“I said, ‘I love you,’ and hopefully I’ll be home in three or four days. We’ll spend that evening together, yeah?”
In the silence, all you could think was ‘he’s slipping, he’s slipping, he’s sl — ,’
“Sure, I’ll see you then.”
Had his voice always been so tired and hollow? Had he always felt so distant and uninterested in the words coming out of your mouth? You were used to his rapt attention and soft affirmations in your conversations, always letting you know that he was focused on you. So when, in the last year, had Suguru become a shell of himself? You should have known, and your conscious would tell you that your level of intimacy (‘girlfriend’ felt like such a lackluster term for what you were to him, but your relationship hadn’t progressed further yet to earn you any other title) demanded you be aware of the moment things began to crack and crumble. All you knew was this: that there was the murder of a girl with a purpose that had been determined years prior—whose fate had changed under his watch—along with the brief but insurmountable amount of time that Suguru believed his best friend was also dead.
Gojo Satoru. A close friend he was to you, once maybe out of obligation to your partner in the beginning, but there had been enough time to have built a friendship of your own over the years. Surely, now that you took a second to consider the situation, he would know what to do.
“Satoru,” you mumbled, “I should call, Satoru.”
And yet, the dial tone remained unrelenting. The A/C unit of your hotel room hummed under the bottom edge of smoke-beige curtains, and the muffled slam of a door down the hall caused you to jump from your seat on the edge of the bed. The phone remained tightly clasped in your hand and it pushed just hard enough against your ear that pain began to erupt from where the post of an earring dug into your skin.
“Suguru?”
——————————————
Your phone rang an hour after leaving the hotel room to begin your journey home. It was in the middle of a foreign airport, your clothes were sticking to your skin after the rushed shuffling through security, and Shoko had just told you that Geto Suguru was currently wanted for the murder of 112 people and his subsequent defection from jujutsu society.
“Is he…does anyone know where he is?” The question slipped out quietly as you dropped into a black leather seat and dragged your suitcase in front of you so you could lean your elbows on it. You took a quick glance up at a screen and tried to decide if “Gate 7” was truly flashing in the top right corner or if it were the building tears in your eyes that were starting to blur the number into a different shape entirely.
“No, he hasn’t been located, and he’s not responding to our phone calls either. Not even Gojo’s. Have you—,”
“No.” You let out a wet laugh and the man in the seat next to you cast a long sideways look in your direction before getting up and moving a couple seats away. Did you look so distraught that the idea of possibly spending hours on a plane next to you was so unappealing? Another stare from a woman in the seat across from you and the tear-drop shaped spots appearing on your pants convinced you that you were better off not knowing.
“I’m so sorry,” Shoko began, and for the first time, her voice brought none of the comfort and healing it usually did. “We debated telling you and waiting until you touched down back home, but Gojo figured you’d…”
Shoko trailed off without any other indication of what considerations for your feelings were taken into account during their discussion, and all that you could respond with was a shake of your head and a hushed “no, no.” You couldn’t decide if you were grateful to know immediately of what had transpired instead of being surprised with the news upon arrival home, or if you were appalled at their thought that sitting trapped in a plane with hours to despair at the unbelievability of it all was the better suited alternative.
A flurry of sudden motion and shuffling around you jolted you back into awareness, and you realized with a sudden panic that your plane was beginning to board. Your only connection to what was going on was about to be severed. You stood with the others and began the slow march to line up at the terminal.
“Shoko, I’m about to board my plane but please—,” A sob cut you off, and you knew that you were further from finishing that sentence than you were from the one person you yearned to be beside at that moment. A heavy ache settled in your stomach at the thought. Suddenly, there was a realization that some great reconciliation was to be made in regard to who Suguru was to you before this point and what he would be now and going forth. In no possible scenario did you see yourself emerging totally unscathed.
Shoko was silent for a moment before offering some reassurance you didn’t really hear and then muttered a quick goodbye. Between that minute and the next, you had boarded the plane, stowed away your suitcase, found a seat next to the window, and picked a spot in the sky to stare at lest the environment around you remind you of how trapped you were.
“Suguru?”
——————————————
“Suguru!”
Screaming your boyfriend’s name from across a crowded street wasn’t what you had envisioned when you thought of your return home, even after the news had broken. But time hadn’t let you attempt to catch up before it decided that the person you treasured most in the world was to continue unraveling on a schedule you had no hope of following.
You had barely taken your first steps out of the airport onto paved sidewalks when your phone rang again. The ringtone could only play its first few chimes before you had it up to your ear with a breathless reply already on its way out.
“I found him.”
Shoko sounded neither relieved nor any more worried than she had when the two of you had spoken hours earlier, but you didn’t have a chance to question her further before she set your whole being on edge.
“Suguru confirmed the reports, and I’ve called Satoru already.”
For a split second, dread filled your limbs and you stumbled in your step that took you from a standstill to a sprint. Why did the thought of Satoru confronting your boyfriend offer anything other than utter relief?
“Where are you? Shoko, please tell me where you are, and I’ll be right there!”
‘Right there’ had you struggling against the hold Shoko had on your shoulders as you watched from a distance as Suguru and Satoru stood opposite each other. People weaved in and around the two, unaware of the danger, the devastation, of the complete dismantling that was occurring just beside them.
“Suguru! Suguru, Suguru, Suguru!” Your screaming seemed to have no effect on him, and you would have lied and told yourself that he just couldn’t hear you, but the disdainful stares of the oblivious people all around kept you from denial.
Suguru remained placid as he stood and took the brunt of both yours and Satoru's desperate calls to bring him back. He looked so much like the boy you had fallen in love with, but then again not at all the same. His hair was different. Half of it laid unbound against his neck, though the piece that framed the left side of his face still hid the corner of his eye. You stared at him, and you weren’t sure if you were trying to commit every inch of him to your memory or simply beseeching him to spare just a glance in your direction. Had his cheeks always been so gaunt? Did the delicate skin under his eyes always bruise purple like they were now? What else had been missed in the last year that could be counted and added to this moment?
Before you could damn yourself further for missing the signs of Suguru’s slow deterioration, the raising of Satoru’s arm had your whole existence narrowing until it was just the two of them in frame. The sound of your heartbeat thudding in your ears faded. The warm feeling of panic that had started in your chest, radiated down your arms, and made your fingers feel numb blended in with the shuddering of Shoko’s chest against your back. All the background noise—the clack of dress shoes on concrete, the whir of car engines flying by that also shuttered the view in front of you, to the incessant wailing of your boyfriend’s name—suddenly ceased as two of Gojo Satoru’s fingers began to close in on one another.
“Satoru!”
One day, Gojo Satoru would be brave enough to remember what it felt like to hear you lament his name. He could recall fondly and effortlessly how his name and the one of his best friend could slip so seamlessly, interchangeably, from your lips. But now, when he swore you were moving your mouth though nothing else but his name came out, it would haunt him in his dreams, his memories, and everything in between.
“Satoru!” Urging, demanding, and shrill.
Do it, do it, do it.
“Satoru!” Pleading, shrieking, and broken.
Please, don’t do it. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.
Satoru’s fingers remained a hairsbreadth apart, and Suguru’s back turned as he walked away with nothing more than an unaffected wave over his shoulder. Shoko still trembled, Satoru’s face crumpled, and your heart and mind had broken into pieces that scattered far beyond your reach.
All the while, there would be a day upcoming when all of this would have to be condensed into something that was capable of being understood.
Today was not that day.
——————————————
December 24, Years Later
Did your footsteps have to echo what your heart was chanting?
Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.
Your walk to the communal lounge of the Jujutsu High-Tokyo campus was different, in some ways, from usual. Familiar stone scraped at the bottom of your shoes. Acrid smoke still hung in the air, and pieces of wood and rock falling to the ground could be heard echoing from where buildings and walls were left in ruin. The fading orange of a winter sunset was dipping below the remaining trees, leaving behind a night that was dark and dreadful and devastated.
Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.
And then you were here, at the door you had to open and walk through before any number of questions you had could be answered. With a deep inhale, you took your first step forward to pass over the threshold and the room that was full of people, though couldn’t be considered noisy, went silent.
Principal Yaga stood in a corner to the right with a cell phone at his ear. Nanami sat at a table with his spotted tie loosened around his neck and his suit jacket thrown over the back of his chair in an uncommon show of haggard exhaustion. Behind him, Shoko was washing her hands in a sink where the water swirled with something pink. You jerked your head to the left to avoid having to process the sight further, but what you looked upon instead didn’t spare you any relief.
The underclassmen, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki, hovered around a loveseat where Okkotsu sat slumped with his head in his hands. All four of them were covered in varying degrees of debris, bandages, and scant traces of blood. It made you feel a little better to think that’s all Shoko had been washing off in the sink.
What didn’t help ease the knots in your stomach was the way Okkotsu never raised his head to acknowledge the entrance of your presence—a contradiction to his normal deferential behavior—but also how the rest of the eyes in the room all looked at you with varying degrees of emotion. None were malicious, but unnerving nonetheless.
Pity, unsureness, sorrow, regret, and condolence—,
Your sharp inhale was enough to make a person or two flinch, but no one else moved and you were left to contemplate whether fleeing to solitary misery would hurt less than receiving answers about what had happened tonight.
Before you could decide what to do, the door to the back of the lounge slid open and Satoru stepped inside. His bandages around his eyes were off, and he was looking at you in a way he never had until now. How you were supposed to interpret that look and what it could even mean…well, you didn’t have the slightest clue, and that would be the final blow to your being.
You had already lurched back to reach for the door when Satoru called your name, and you were slow to turn around to face him. When you did, he used his head to nod to the garden through the door of the lounge in a bid to get you to follow him before exiting the room the same way he came. You took a deep breath and gave a helpless search around the room before following after him into the night. Someone had the grace to close the door behind you.
The two of you walked a few steps into the garden, and while it did nothing to ease the turmoil you were feeling, the vastness of the night sky and coolness of the air was preferable to the atmosphere in the lounge you were just in. When you and Satoru finally came to a halt, you weren’t close enough to touch, but if you tried, your fingertips would just miss the fabric of his uniform. You waited for him to speak, swallowing once, twice, a third time to try and clear the tension out of your throat. Your hands began to tremble, and a stinging burn rushed up through your nose to prick at the corners of your eyes.
With only a whisper of clothing as a warning, Satoru’s hand reached out to cup the back of your neck and draw you into his shoulder, his arms capable of closing the distance between you without requiring him to step nearer. His other hand settled between your shoulder blades while yours loosely gripped the fabric at his ribcage. The embrace only lasted another second before he was pulling away with a gentle squeeze around your arms and letting his own drop to his sides.
“You’re aware of what led up to all this tonight, correct?” Satoru asked, gesturing vaguely to the campus surrounding you both. There was no preamble from him and you watched as his eyes flicked between yours.
“Yes,” you nodded, “I was there in the city with everyone, Satoru. I saw you leave, and once everything finished I stayed after to check on everyone from Kyoto before coming back here.” You let your eyes wander around over Satoru’s shoulder, and you could just faintly make out a persisting plume of smoke in the distance.
“He was here,” you continued, no more asking him a question than you were stating what you already knew, “and this was him?” Even though it was meek, your voice didn’t crack.
Satoru hummed out an affirmation, not needing to clarify what you said in order for him to know that you were referring to the damaged state of the school as a result of Suguru’s presence.
“Alright,” you started, firm and as prepared as you could make yourself in this moment, “where is he?”
Satoru carried on without acknowledging the question you asked. “Some of the damage is from him fighting Maki, Panda, and Inumaki, but most of it is from his fight with Okkostu and Rika after the others became too injured. I arrived just at the end.”
It was here that you started to feel like you were listening to his words from somewhere outside your body. There was an outcome that you were waiting to learn of, and you knew you either needed to ask a question or make some kind of noise or movement to prompt him to go forward. But really, your head felt like it was full of static and you couldn’t begin to piece the words together to make them sound even remotely coherent.
The end, the end, the end, the e–,
“The end?” You asked on an exhale, stunned when you saw Satoru’s chin quiver just once. You realized then that you hadn’t ever really taken the time to study the world’s strongest sorcerer. Did the blue of his eyes always reflect even the dimmest of light, or was there something else that caused them to swim as they did now? He stood rigid, but then again Satoru always held himself up to his full height, unbothered by the weight that sat on his shoulders and unencumbered by the threat of a physical blow. Maybe now that you could notice, as you saw how his head hung slightly and weariness lowered his stature, it was apparent that the time Satoru spent constantly guarding his person never allowed for the same courtesy to his mind. You wondered if the vulnerability of it, of how he sacrificed himself to the heavy weight of emotional torment, was what eventually managed to dim the spirit of the person in front of you right now.
“Suguru’s dead. ”
One day, you’d look back and wonder if you already knew what was going to come out of Satoru’s mouth. The news had the ground beneath your feet tilting in different directions in a way that threatened the contents of your stomach, and it did expel the air from your lungs in a pained-sounding moan. But it didn’t send the electrical current of shock through your body that you were waiting for. You’d suspect that you were aware of it from the moment you set foot on campus, that the tension in the air and the stiffness of everyone in the lounge had been direct indicators that the worst had occurred. Perhaps you knew, but needed Satoru to deliver that blow in order for it to land.
You struggled to find a way to think past the roaring in your ears, so you tangled your fingers together in order to dig your nails into the skin on the backs of your hands. When the pain didn’t register and the blood welling up underneath them didn’t scare you into looking away, you fixed your gaze up on Satoru’s eyes in a desperate attempt to pull yourself out from inside yourself. They were wide in concerned alarm from whatever he saw on your face.
“God, so…,” you heaved a breath and closed your eyes to try and focus on getting your thoughts into something more than garbled syllables, “so that’s why Okkotsu looks the way he does…in there? He, uhm, he ki—,”
“No.” Satoru pulled his bottom lip under his teeth and rolled his head back to look up at the sky before returning back to you. Did he feel the same trepidation that snaked under your skin and knocked at your chest? Did your eyes reflect back to him the pleading that was going on in your head? To who, though? Certainly, the time for bargaining was long past. “No, Okkotsu didn’t kill Suguru. He wounded him…badly. But Suguru was able to retreat in the haze of the smoke and I…he…”
He what? Suguru? Okkotsu? If allowed, the endless possibilities of “what if” would steal whatever peace remained from you, and if closure wasn’t something granted to you, you would respond in kind.
“What, Satoru? He what? You have to be clearer. You have to tell me, for the sake of my own understanding.”
The sliding of the lounge door caught your attention and interrupted whatever Satoru was going to say next. You glanced over, watching as Nanami stepped out from around the door, shut it, and leaned back against it with his arms crossed over his chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Satoru giving him the faintest nod and you wondered if he had asked him to come out here. The reason wasn’t quite clear to you yet, but you stared at him, trying to figure out what part the blonde-haired sorcerer was about to play in all of this.
Ever present Nanami, stoic as he was strong, but soft spoken and never cruel for cruelty’s sake. Always maintained rigid self control and composure, even in the face of his best friend’s death. He was steady and stable, easily beat against but never yielded, made to never move under such intense pressure.
The thought had you turning back to Satoru, perplexed about what Nanami’s presence might be implying. What was about to come out of Gojo Satoru’s mouth that made him think he wouldn’t be enough for you? Or—in an even worse consideration—that he was about to become too much for you.
“I found Suguru after his fight with Okkotsu in some obscure corner of campus,” Satoru whispered, and you dared not move or breathe as you waited for his next words. “I found him…and I killed him.”
You had to hold a hand up to your chest, right between your breasts and over your heart as it began to rise and fall with the rapidness of your breaths, if only to ensure that it kept beating as every second ticked past the next. You felt your mouth drop open, felt your throat vibrate with some wounded noise, and watched as Satoru held out his hand to you, immense regret tightening his features, along with glistening tears clinging to the tips of his eyelashes. What hurt more though was the memory of Satoru’s arm reaching out like it did now, some years ago on the day Suguru left, his fingers trembling as they inched towards each other in his best friend's direction. You wondered—painfully, regrettably—if that’s what Suguru saw too right before it all went dark, and the sight of it was enough to send you staggering backwards. Someone caught you with large hands curling around the tops of your shoulders and—,
Oh, that’s what Nanami was for.
Taking advantage of your friend behind you, you wilted backwards against Nanami’s chest and sobbed, neither of you unnerved by the ugly gasping of it. The hand that wasn’t still clutched against your body in the hopes of keeping yourself sealed shut shot up to grasp at Nanami’s forearm in an effort to abate the buckling of your knees. Because in front of you, the honored one stood a few feet away from you with eyes made empty and full of loss, and you struggled to reconcile which one of you were owed more the space to fall apart. Perhaps it was you both, as grief in situations like this happened to be a great equalizer, and you considered, as your friend stared at you with pained hopelessness, that maybe—certainly—Satoru was entitled to his own moment of sorrow in front of you. The thought lent sturdiness to your stance and you pushed forward off Nanami and used the momentum to propel yourself into Satoru. You worried briefly that maybe the two of you wouldn’t make contact, that he wouldn’t allow you into the space of him, but your arms landed around his neck, your chest met his, and his hands pushed you past any remaining distance.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice shaking and hands hovering infinitesimally over your hips before they settled against you. All you could do was shake your head against his shoulder. There was no question about how equally wounded Satoru was. Where you now mourned the forever plans that once existed in the bright eyes and easy laugh of a man since gone, Satoru had the honor of shouldering the burden of knowing he was the one who snuffed those plans out, though the fault could be no more placed on him than it could you. Did he wonder as he waited for you, whether you would blame him for the duty in which he owed the world protection from people like Suguru? Where he would always be the one to know what it was like to take away the life of his best friend, did he worry about how you would look at him once you knew? Did you confirm his fear when you fell away from him? For a time, did Satoru bemoan the physical loss of Suguru and wonder if he would have to do the same for you when you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes anymore? Satoru might have been the one who made you something akin to a widow, but Suguru’s choices and decisions were what put the two of you here, who really held responsibility for the damage inflicted on the two people he had valued most.
You squeezed Satoru a little tighter and then tilted back some so you could peer into his face.
“Don’t be sorry,” you said, shaking your head at him when he opened his mouth to protest, “at least not to me.” A weak smile pulled at your lips as you did your best to reassure him and the spasming of his grip at your waist. You didn’t have the energy to explain to him the depths of emotion that swirled around in your head. How you didn’t blame him, but regretted the situation Suguru thrust the two of you in. How you would never leave him to carry this alone, but that you would need time before looking at him didn’t make your heart throb with painful memory and imagination. Or how the two of you would be forever connected by the loss of someone so important to each of you in vastly different ways, but that you wanted nothing more than to flee from his presence now.
So you moved away from him, trailing a hand down his arm because you could and because you didn’t know what else to do for him. You kept stepping back, already turning to retreat back the way you came and ready to seek solace in the privacy of your room. To do what, you weren’t sure. To cry, you guessed. To distract yourself enough that you didn’t replay every single second of the last few years over and over in your head so you could pick every word and touch between you and Suguru apart. Whether that was for the sake of your own memory or to try and figure out that which couldn’t be solved was unbeknownst to you. In the depths of your grief, maybe you would wonder what the last moments were like for Suguru. Did he think of you? Consider what he had done to you and to Satoru? What were the last words to come out his mouth? Were they for you or for—,
You whirled around from your spot halfway back to the lounge door and caught sight of Nanami placing a heavy hand on Satoru’s shoulder.
“Did Suguru say anything to you?” Your voice carried out clearly on the emptiness of the night, but Satoru didn’t turn in your direction, nor did he hardly move. “Did he…did he have anything for you to tell me?”
Satoru was still until he eventually twisted his head towards you just enough so he could look at you from the corner of his eye. They were guarded, maybe the slightest bit afraid, and you held your breath in anticipation.
“No.”
You deflated and were unsure how to feel about his answer. You had hoped, thought, that maybe having Suguru’s last words for you would bring about some relief for the burning heartache that had started at some point in the last hour—the last couple of years—but you had also been hesitant to receive one more thing to occupy the scant emotional bandwidth you had left for everything that Suguru was. It would be one more thing to keep you up at night. On the other hand, the fact that your lover had left the world with nought an expressed thought or word for your condition left a blistering bitterness to swell within you. Insignificant were you not, but maybe to Suguru, in his last moments on Earth, you were to him. And that thought was enough to tip you into the realm of excess, surefly filled and overflowing with enough contemplating and pondering and general overthinking to last the rest of your life.
So you turned away from Satoru and Nanami and walked back through an empty lounge and out the door from which you came earlier in the evening. The night was still dark and devastated but relatively silent, the noise of utter ruin having mostly ceased. But your shoes still scuffed against stone and tiny pebbles skittered away from under feet, skipping and tumbling with every step you took.
Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.
——————————————
“You were lying.”
Nanami’s tone was no more judgemental than it was inquisitive, but nothing about him seemed to press Satoru for answers that he wasn’t yet ready to give—or understood himself. He did lie. He wouldn’t deny that. But under no circumstances was he prepared to tell you what his best friend, your other half, had told him in the minutes before his death. They replayed tortuously in his head as he tried to make sense of it all. Satoru would have to speak them to you one day, and the fear of doing so brought the same panicked apprehension he had felt as he watched you try and hold yourself together as he had told you about Suguru’s death. As he waited for you, he had imagined every which way your face could have pinched and drawn up in enraged despair as you threw yourself against him to beat as his chest, to wail in his arms as you cursed his existence before finally retreating in a similar fashion as how you did just moments ago, but perhaps with less acceptance and a goodbye that would prove final in its anger. You hadn’t reacted that way, of course. You had fallen against him in sorrow and with a barely concealed need for comfort as much as you were ready to give it to him, and he had been filled with desperate relief at the feeling of you and how you hadn’t shied away from him. But maybe that was to come later one day, after Satoru spent time considering what was said and implied by Suguru’s words, and felt brave enough to share them with you. Surely then you wouldn’t have the same patience for him as you did tonight.
“I was.” That was all he said back to Nanami, refusing to elaborate on the specifics of something he owed to you and couldn’t yet come to terms with himself. Thankfully, Nanami simply nodded and glanced in the direction of your departure.
“I’ll check on her in the morning,” he offered, betraying no emotion or thought to the idea, but Satoru had a feeling it had something to do with how you had done the same for Nanami when, a few years ago, death had come for Jujutsu High and taken Haibara with it. Neither man said anything else as they departed, Nanami heading your direction towards staff lodging and Satoru leaving to walk aimlessly along crumbling corridors. His head spun, and he remembered.
Satoru had heard Suguru before he came upon him, dragging his shoulder against stone walls and mumbling nonsense to himself until it came to an abrupt halt as he spotted Satoru a ways in front of him. It was painful to take in the sight of his best friend, covered in blood and viciously mangled, but looking so achingly familiar. But the ensuing conversation, a mindless back and forth of words that meant much and nothing at all proved that the person in front of him wasn’t the same as he remembered.
“Tell me, do you have any last words?” Satoru had asked, a simple opportunity given to the man sitting in front of him, yet he cursed the universe for his lot in life, the unfairness of it all bittering the taste of his mouth and landing heavy in his chest as Suguru spoke back to him.
“She's yours now, it would seem.”
Satoru couldn’t ever say he had been rendered speechless before, but he choked on his own spit as he recoiled from Suguru’s words. He grit his teeth as he felt his face scrunch in anguished rage.
“God, Suguru! You can’t just—that’s not something you—!” What came out in a fit of bewilderment was followed by more jumbled sputtering before Satoru could mind his tongue again. “You don’t just say that! You can’t pass ownership of her like an object. Not like this, not ever!”
Suguru just chuckled, out of breath and clearly fading, and leaned his head back against the wall. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”
“It does!” Satoru shouted, panic and desperation lacing his tone,“She doesn’t want me! She would want you to come back, to make amends and live your entire life trying to repair what you broke. You don’t get to decide our future for us!”
“Consider it a dying wish,” Suguru said calmly, and Satoru wondered if anything else someone could ever say would hurt as badly as that (a picture of you flashed unbidden in his mind).
“She would rather have you—I would rather have you!”
“You haven’t exactly said ‘no’, Satoru.”
His words pinned him in place and Satoru was stunned into silence. His friend’s dying delusions were no better for his psyche than considering what Suguru implied would mean for him. Satoru had never let himself think so far, to entertain a thought about his best friend’s girlfriend in any other way except strictly platonic. Sure, no one could ignore your beauty, and a couple times Satoru had silently envied what Suguru had and he did not—intimate companionship, physical comfort and pleasure, and the eagerness for a future with someone, all that could be had with a friend but on levels not belonging to such a term. However longed for, it was never with you strictly imagined, just a simple yearning for something of his own.
“No,” Satoru managed, “not like this. Not without her consent, and certainly not in place of you being alive.”
Suguru made a motion similar to a shrug, or what one would look like if half of his shoulder wasn’t missing. “If you insist.”
“Do you not have anything to say to her? To leave her with?” Satoru beseeched on your behalf, hoping Suguru would tell him anything else to pass on to you other than his attempt to give you to him. Satoru would get his last words with Suguru, and it was all the same too much and not enough. He wondered if you would feel the same.
“What’s there to say?” Suguru said, his voice light, as if the discussion was more about the weather or something else equally mundane. “‘I’m sorry’ seems pointless without action behind it, and there will be none. ‘I love you’ is nothing she hasn’t heard before, and I would call into question the truthfulness of those words in light of my actions if I were her.” It was then that Satoru finally spotted a hint of regret and sorrow on Suguru’s face, but it disappeared only a moment later. “She would not want me as I am now, and there is no going back. The damage resulting from my choices is something the two of you will wrestle with, both individually and together, I suppose. Hence, why I said what I did.”
Satoru would laugh at the absurdity of it all if it didn’t pain him so badly. Instead, he walked towards Suguru and dropped into a crouch to get eye-level with his friend. His head lolled toward him.
“Damn you for that, Suguru,” he said, “but you’ll always be my best friend.”
Shock fluttered over Suguru’s face before amusement wrinkled his eyes and a tired laugh shook his body. His eyes slid shut and as Satoru stood and willed his arm to move, he desperately wished he could be anywhere else.
-----------------------------------
I hope I didn't ramble too much and that this made sense! The next chapters shouldn't be as thought/monologue heavy. I can't promise an update timeline, but I will do my best to not take too long. I am writing in the breaks between chasing my toddler around, so patience is appreciated:)
Cross-posted on ao3 as well.
Thanks!
#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk
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sneaks into asks again >:3c
any general nsfw headcanons for Adam, Lucifer and Vox maybe? since I saw you were trying out writing nsfw again!
🌼☕` Your Tea Is Ready `☕🌼
MINORS DNI
Includes / Adam , Lucifer , Vox
A/N - Voxs part was fighting me today, I'll post them later when I can get a more coherent thought out!
| ADAM |
Bratty bottom > Mean Dom
Someone had to say it and it clearly wasn't going to be him
He's inherently selfish, but he's also inherently prideful, it's this pride that keeps him from opening up about his interest in subbing
This pride however is also how you can get him into it
" Oh subbing is so hard, there's no way you could last without tapping out, being the top is the easy part of sex "
He folds instantly, just to prove you wrong and it has nothing to do with the fact he wants you to peg/rail him so so bad totally unrelated why would you even bring that up
Loud during sex, sub or dom this bitch shuts up for NOTHING he has no shame if someone hears
Likes when your loud too, he knows he's the shit but it's affirming to have you a moaning, screaming mess on his dick
Doesn't care much for actually talking during sex, he is NOT paying attention, no thoughts head empty yknow?
Does like when you pull or play with his hair though!
Also likes fucking you in somewhat public places, getting fucked though? In his house, in his room, doors locked, curtains pulled that side of him is for you ONLY
Hard no to pictures, he doesn't want others seeing you like that and he definitely doesn't want anyone seeing him like that
Doesn't mind a cheeky nude though !
Sends them before his shows, just to mess with you cause you know he won't be able to get back to you until hours later
Looooves when you show up for his signings afterwards and drag him back stage <33
May be while he still does it but that's between him and God
It definitely takes some time for him to come forward with his own kinks but he's absolutely willing to try yours no judgment, he'll try anything at least once
| LUCIFER |
Service top, it's not that he doesn't mind giving up control or letting you do as you please but he has such a drive to pleasure that he usually ends up taking control at some point during sex
Getting you off gets him off basically
Oral? Loves it! Loves giving head its his favourite hobby <3
Please tell him how good he is for you or how good he makes you feel, makes his head all thick with pride
Will fuck anywhere anytime
He doesn't have a particularly high libido but being an angel he's got mad stamina
Sex ends when something comes up or you tap out, he will keep you there for days if he could (and he's tried)
Hard no to any kinks that could do serious damage to you, he's an angel he can heal so so fast, you can't do that! He has this nagging fear that he'll hurt you, that he doesn't know his own strength
Doesn't mind getting hurt, as said he can heal whenever he wants to, just keep it away from his back
Wings are sensitive, it's a dirty dirty secret of his you only find out on accident and you've been abusing that knowledge ever since
Kissing down his spine? Hard. Grazing his wings? Drooling. Preening a loose Feather? Bent over the desk for you
Has so many sex toys he's willing to try, Ozzie's been giving him toys for holidays since the beginning of time
He has the first dildo ever made, it's displayed in his office somewhere
Loves cuddly morning sex, it's his favorite, kinky rough sex is awesome too, but he likes holding you and taking his time
Has all of you memorized and he treasures it, thinking fondly of your figure often
He's got three thoughts at any given time, ducks, Charlie, bending you over his desk after your third date when you licked the scotch from his bottom lip-
In his defense, you've got no right being that sexy, it's absolutely sinful
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#adam x y/n#adam x you#adam x reader#adam imagines#lucifer x y/n#lucifer imagine#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer headcanons#adam headcanons#minors dni
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Only once, never again – Father!Alastor x Teen!Daughter!Reader
TAGLIST: @meg-giry1 @wen01203
“Papa, please ?”, you asked again.
“No, Cher. You are too young.”, Alastor denied you again.
“Papa, I am sixteen ! I should at least try !”, you tried to convince him.
“You are too young to try now, Cher. What if something happens to you ? I would never forgive myself.”
“Pa, you are my Father and the all feared Bayou Killer. As soon as I am hurt, you kill the one responsible. I am not a damsel in distress either ! You taught me how to defend myself and I am not that easily traumatized. I live with and was raised by you ! Alastor Hazbin, most famous Radio Host, the man that never stops smiling, the man that accomplished the impossible, the man who proudly adopted and raised a child with well manners and the very shadow in the night that kills scum that deserve it ! I’m a tough cookie, I won’t crumble THAT fast !”, you persisted.
He stared at you, uncertainty in his eyes and his smile so very strained, close to a concerned frown. You both stayed seated in the living room, listening to the new record that Alastor bought.
What were you arguing about ? You wanted to try out dating someone and Alastor, your Father, absolutely HATED the very idea.
“Just once, Pa. Pretty please. Let me try out dating someone at least this once. I wish to know what it feels like.”, you pleaded with him again.
Your Father took a deep breath and stood up.
“I fear I have to retire to bed now, mon ange (My Angel). Sleep well, Dear.”, he said and gave you a kiss on the forehead, then left.
You had a crestfallen look on your face. Alastor wasn’t blind, he saw it too. He needed time to think about this. Don’t get him wrong, the Radio Host KNEW this would happen one day or another, but he was never ready for the day it would happen. He was very concerned for your safety. Men...were swines. You...were an absolute angel. It just didn’t fit, in his opinion. His sweet loving daughter and an abusive swine at your side, leashing you and using you for whatever he wanted...no...Alastor hated that bare thought.
He could feel himself getting sick at the pure imagination, that you would get a man and he would instantly collar and leash you. Like his Father did with his Mother.
He laid there, in bed, wide awake, for three hours that night. As you retired for the night he could hear you sobbing and whimpering and his heart felt oh so shattered, just hearing you crying. He knew he was the cause of your sadness. He just wanted to protect you, but he understood you as well.
You were a Teenager and you wanted to feel a different kind of love. You wanted to explore a new area and usually Alastor was supportive of your adventurous side. But...this was about men and men could NEVER be trusted. His Father and the men he killed, were the perfect example ! They hurt and abused their wives and sometimes even their own children, they raped women and left them to die or with a Bastard child, they yell at their wives, degrade them whenever they saw fit, emotionally scarred them and traumatized their own Family !
He didn’t want the same thing happening to you. You were his beloved daughter and he could never forgive himself, if something happened to you. This was a difficult decision for him.
You wanted to at least try and court someone for once, while he was very much against the thought alone. What course of action should he take ? What would be the safest, best idea ? Continue to deny you and break your heart, or let you try and possibly end up hurt and...most possibly cold hearted ? Alastor heard of it. Some men were so brutal, that the woman they dated ended up with a cold heart and never courted again.
What was he supposed to do ? Give in, or continue to hurt your feelings ?
-Time skip-
You woke up and were not in the mood to get out of bed. You were sad and hurt that your Father refused to let you try and find out what else love would feel like. You were just curious. Only one try, but even to that he said no and then he just left you and retired for the night.
That one hurt the most.
The door opened and the smell of cooked breakfast entered your room.
“Y/n, Sweetheart~! I made you your beloved pancakes~!”, your Father sang out with a big smile.
You didn’t react and didn’t move, which made your Father’s smile dim slightly. He ripped open the curtains and opened your window for fresh air. The birds were chirping and the breeze was a pleasant welcome in your room, you loved the wind and air outside, it made you feel free. Alastor knew that.
Then your Father sat down next to your curled up form and ran his fingers through your hair, gently. He sighed. He knew you were awake, but in a foul mood from yesterday evening still.
“Listen Cher...I thought long and hard about your idea from yesterday, while I was in bed. I understand why you want this so bad, but please understand me too, Darling. I can’t always be there for you. I just want to keep you safe for as long as possible.”, he carefully started.
You continued to listen, already knowing this, but not saying anything.
“If you have someone, you want to court and explore a new territory with...then you have my permission for now...”
Your head snapped up and you stared at him in shock, he held his finger up, telling you to be silent, he wasn’t finished.
“BUT ! If that filthy speck of dirt dares to lay a hand on you, I will not hesitate to kill him and you will NEVER court anyone again ! Understood ?”
You nodded quickly, happy tears in your eyes. You sat up and quickly wrapped your arms around your Father, hugging him tightly.
“Thank you so much, Papa ! You have no idea what this means to me !”, you sobbed out happily.
He hugged you back tightly, not saying a word. But...he felt bile rise up in his throat.
‘I can’t believe I said yes to this...’
-Later that day-
You went out and told your Father that you will meet up with the man that you decided to court and see if there will be anything happening. Alastor let you go with a lot of hesitation. Heck, he even made you go through all the methods how to hurt a man again, just to see if you remember everything !
You told him where you will be, when you will be back and then left.
But the Radio Host couldn’t help worrying. He dressed up in formal clothes, but they wouldn’t be too much of a loss to get rid of, shall he get messy. Grabbed his hunting knife, hid it in his coat and then he was off, shadow trailing you.
The man he saw you meet up with, didn’t seem very suiting for you. He always stayed far enough away, but was still close enough to see you both. You were taking a walk in the park first, talking and joking with each other, then you went out to eat at a restaurant, which the boy paid for and then you started to laugh and talk some more.
Alastor wasn’t sure how to feel. You seemed happy... But that boy...didn’t seem very safe. Maybe..Alastor was just overreacting...but he didn’t like him.
As it was time to go home for you, the both of you parted ways. You left a kiss on his cheek and then you walked away from one another. He offered to bring you home, but for the sake of your Father’s safety and your new friend’s, you said no.
As you returned home, you saw your Father pacing the living room. As soon as you closed the front door, he snapped his head to you and looked at you, face full with worry.
“How...did it go, mon petit (My little one) ?”
You shrugged your shoulders.
“It went good, I guess ? But it...we didn’t feel a spark, Pa. Like what all these romance books say when you find the right one you want to be with ? That didn’t happen.”
He looked relieved, yet confused.
“And what does that mean now, for the two of you ?”
You smiled at your Father happily.
“We decided that we will stay friends and agreed to meet next week again ! Oh, Papa, you would love this boy ! He has no issue with mixed and dark skinned people either ! He finds them rather interesting ! He is so kind too ! You and him would become great friends !”
“Would we now ?”
“Yes, yes, you would ! Kenny is such a kind soul !”
Alastor made a humming sound.
“I suppose we can meet him next time here, then. If you want.”
You nodded eagerly.
“Yes, I would LOVE to ! He offered to get me home too, but I didn’t want to cause you a panic attack with him coming here already, so I declined. I hope you aren’t too mad about that.”
“Not at all, Cher !”
With that you talked with him about everything you and your new friend did and talked about. The next time Alastor met Kenny and he was pleasantly surprised that you were right. He and Kenny became quite good pals.
A/N: I hope this wasn’t trash. TvT
I thought about this scene a lot, yet it seemed better in my head than on paper...
Q-Q
#fanfiction#fem!reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel#Human!Alastor#Alive!Alastor#Human!Reader#Alive!Reader#Father!Alastor x Child!Reader#Father!Alastor#Father!Alastor x Teen!Daughter!Reader#Only once never again – Father!Alastor x Teen!Daughter!Reader
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I can't imagine how raw and irritated echos skin gets, especially from his armor rubbing against it. now I can imagine is his s/o applying lotion all over his upper body, and once rubbed in, giving him a massage cause lord knows the poor baby's been through enough.
finding good echo gifs is so hard 😭 I feel like I've already used all the good gifs in my other one-shots. If anyone has some Echo gifs they'd be happy to let me use for story visuals, please let me know!
Patch Your Broken Wings (ARC Trooper Echo x Reader)
Notes/Warnings: Got a little off topic here sowwy :3. People are jerks to clones, descriptions of scents, Echo has a hard time making decisions for himself and feeling good about himself.
This one-shot does not contain spoilers for season three. Please do not discuss spoilers in the comments.
"Here, smell this one!" You took a bottle off the shelf and shoved it in Echo's face. He stumbled back a step or two before he caught his balance. He took a deep inhale of the scent and closed his eyes, imagining himself in the middle of the meadow printed on the side of the bottle. The scent, however, didn't quite match up to the picture.
"Well, what do you think?" You asked. You were so giddy you were bouncing up and down on the tips of your toes as you waited expectantly for his answer.
He shrugged, "It's nice."
"Nice?" You frowned, "Is that all you have to say about it?"
The truth was, Echo really didn't care for that one at all, but with how excited you were about it and the other five bottles you'd thrown in your basket, he didn't want to disappoint you. Plus, there were at least three other customers staring at him, speaking in what barely counted as whispers. He knew he looked weird, on top of being a clone. Most people didn't like him being out in public, not that it bothered you. You were fearless.
"Yeah, smells like flowers." He mumbled.
You frowned, "Okay then..." You put the bottle back on the shelf, and Echo immediately knew he messed up.
"We can still get it if you like it! I don't mind!" He insisted.
"Do you like it, though?" You asked.
Echo blinked. "What do you mean?"
You sighed deeply, "Echo, I wanted to get these lotions for you."
"For me?" Echo pointed to himself with his good hand, "Why?"
"For your skin!" You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently, "It's so dry and rough, especially by your cybernetics."
"Oh," He said softly, "I've never really thought about it before."
You smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek, "I was doing some reading on the holonet, and it said that prosthetics can start to chafe after a while, but lotion so help with that."
Echo couldn't believe it. You'd done research to help him? On your own? He almost started crying.
"Come on," You pulled him after you, "You need to find one that you like. I'll help you put it on."
Echo felt a bit like he was floating as you pulled him along to the next aisle of lotions. Was that all that this store sold? Well, there had been some candles at the front of the store, and they were selling scented antibacterial packets by the register.
"We are not leaving until we find a lotion that you like," You warned him, "Now, what smells do you like?"
Echo fidgeted a bit under your scrutiny. "Well, I like caff, and flimsi. It smells nice when it's warm."
"Well, we could find a caff-based scent, but flimsi will be a bit harder to find," You hummed, "Keep going."
"Uh, I like the smell of the antiseptics that they use to keep the medwing clean, that's always nice."
You shook your head, and grabbed two sample bottles of lotion off the shelf. "Do you prefer flowers or fruit?"
Echo panicked, "Uh...both?"
Just as you reached out for him, an older woman shoved her way in between you both to get to the display wall.
"Pardon me-" Echo coughed.
"Excuse you!" You snapped. The lady turned to you, and though Echo couldn't see her face he knew she must be scowling.
"Watch where you bring that thing," She snapped back at you. She didn't even grab any of the lotions as she pushed past Echo towards the registers. Even more people were staring now.
"Maybe we should go-" Echo tried, but you grabbed his arm and kept him standing right where he was.
"You have just as much right to be here as anyone else," You whispered to him. Echo just gulped, and nodded.
You pulled his arm towards you and dabbed a bit of the first lotion onto his wrist. As you rubbed it in, it felt kind of nice, feeling you work away the tension building up in his muscles.
"What do you think?"
The first one was tinged purple, and smelled like joganfruit with hints of lavender. It was much too strong and Echo shook his head with a grimace. You applied the second scent, and Echo gave a hearty sniff. It was light and floral, with hints of meiloorun in the background.
"That one's nice," He said somewhat wistfully.
"You like it?" You seemed shocked at this revelation.
"What's the flower in that one?" He asked. You took a moment to read the label.
"It's made from ti'il blossoms, from the planet Alderaan," You read, "It's made with meiloorun and hints of prosecco."
"Prosecco? Isn't that an alcohol?" Echo asked.
"Yeah, but it smells nice," You shrugged, "You want that one?"
"Yeah," Echo said, reeling a bit from these events. Maybe the prosecco in the lotion was giving him the same effects as drinking it.
Buying the lotion and going back to your apartment were a bit of a whirlwind for him. He liked being at your place, it was a safe haven from the rest of the galaxy, where no one would oogle him or whisper about his condition as if he couldn't hear them.
"Hey," You called him from his trance, lotion in one hand, "You okay?"
He nodded, quickly, "I just...I don't usually get stuff like this."
"It doesn't hurt, if that's what you're worried about," You teased. Echo chuckled half-heartedly.
"Echo?" You said softly, "Babe, what's wrong?"
Echo tried to wave it off, but the lump in his throat betrayed him.
"No one has ever cared about me, not like you have." He stammered.
"Echo, that's not true," You pulled him to sit on the couch and cradled his face in your hands, "Your brothers would do anything for you, and you know it."
"They're my brothers, they don't count."
"They're your brothers--of course they do," You rested your forehead against his, breathing deeply in order to allow his breaths to align with yours.
"Thanks for what you did back there, at the shop," He murmured.
It was your turn to get flushed, "I barely did anything-"
"Not just with the lady," He clarified, "For the lotion, for looking stuff up, for this," He waved his scomp arm between the two of you, "It means everything to me."
He caught a glimpse of your smile, "You mean everything to me, Echo. I hope you understand that."
Echo chuckled again, "I think I'm starting to."
#lizart writes#tbb echo x reader#clone wars echo x reader#arc trooper echo x reader#the bad batch x reader#the clone wars x reader#apparently I can only write if I complain about writing beforehand.
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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 6
Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?
Previous part
Part 6: sweet nothings
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I let out a groan as I stretched my arms out. My eyes snapped open to see Alastor still here and sitting in a chair by the empty fireplace. The evening sun was streaming through the large window and making his red pop out all the more.
His eyes were already on me when I looked him over. He placed his book on the side table and stood, his shadow lifting his cane for him to take. It took two strides to cross the room to kneel beside the couch.
I rolled over on my back as a red claw gently caressed my cheek and unstuck a strand of hair on the side of my face. When had he put a blanket over me? I pulled it off most of the way from being overheated.
"How did you sleep, dear?" he asked, voice crackling like his radio. His cane rested on his thigh.
"Not bad." I ran my hand up his sleeve to cover his hand, our fingers shifting so they could half interlace against my face. It was satisfying to stare up at his face.
He leaned down to press a gentle kiss on my forehead.
Beautiful darling, I heard him say.
He moved lower and pressed his lips onto mine. I leaned further into the pillow and found the back of his head with my other hand. His hair tickled my cheeks where it fell.
A string of fear pulsed through my mind at the thought of him leaving. I wanted so badly to keep him at a safe distance yet that had proven futile in the end. I couldn't resist him. Not now, and not when I first developed feelings for him. He somehow always managed to rope me back in.
I wasn't so sure I wanted to untangle myself.
****
Alastor spent the next few days doting on his soulmate. It felt like he was basking in warm sunlight on a breezy summer afternoon every time you were in the room together. Your magic melded so perfectly where it had been jagged before. It was comforting.
Though it was bittersweet.
Now that the bond had connected fully again, he was able to hear the little doubts that plagued your mind. You weren't shielding him in the way he was shielding you. His...other...feelings were still hidden safely behind a wall. You didn't need to see those.
You were highly skeptical of his affections but you never stopped him. He noticed the little devils making more frequent appearances around you. If he left you alone, they were at your side by the time he came back. If he barely turned his head, one of them was appearing from underfoot to grip at your pant leg.
Nym was the more intriguing one. She had a tough, rowdy spirit and seemed to drag her brother with her wherever she went. The boy was smaller than her and ran to his adoptive mother if he feared Nym would bring him somewhere muddy or had a small creature in her palms.
Reagan still hated him. He never cared for her to begin with but she lived under the same roof and caused plenty of problems. If it wasn't for his soulmate, Alastor would've corrected her bad manners long ago.
All three devils were in the kitchen while you made dinner. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before excusing himself outside through the back door. He stood at the corner of the house furthest from the haven — a place no one would ever be looking — then leaned against the wood grasping at his chest.
He pulled his bow tie loose and gripped his microphone until it bent under his strength. His breathing was erratic, his legs felt numb, and his claws were frozen in whatever position they were currently in. He tried to force his heart to slow its beating but his magic was difficult to reign in.
He had been suffering from these random panic attacks for days. They came on without warning. Horrid memories and anxieties resurfaced, along with bad possible scenarios. He had to get a hold of this panic. Every time he grew more panicked, his magic would slip away from his fingers—the one thing he relied on for centuries, the one thing that made him feel safe and in control.
A thought came to mind and his panic flew away. You had managed to regain control of your magic with a magic-restraining headband on; back when Blackwater was still alive. Alastor had been yanked into the darkness too soon for him to properly search your mind for how you did it. Maybe you would allow him to look back in that memory.
Dinner was awkward, as expected. The two of you sat on the long ends of the table with the devils in between. Nym sat on the chair adjacent to Alastor while Thatcher and Reagan sat closest to you.
Thatcher liked to talk—whenever his sister wasn't talking over him—and Nym liked to stare. She looked away whenever Alastor caught her observing him.
Reagan was silent unless you asked her a direct question. After the first two, you left her alone and listened to the younger pairs' wild adventures in the haven.
After dinner, Alastor watched from the corner of the kitchen as you and the tiny children cleaned up. Reagan was quick to retreat to her room for the night. Alastor would make a comment about that later.
He focused his attention on you as you stood behind the pair washing and drying the dishes. Thatcher liked to play with the water and soap while Nym preferred to dry, probably from her love for mud and anything dirty.
He was surprised to see Thatcher placed a cluster of soap bubbles on her arm. She tried flicking them off but when that didn't work, she angrily took a towel to it. You laughed and placed a gentle kiss on both of their heads.
Something moved in Alastor.
He wasn't sure what exactly. Was it love? Jealousy? Adoration? What he did know was that it made his shoulders less tense, made the edges of panic fade away. His smile was genuine when you glanced over your shoulder at him.
After the dishes had been cleaned, dried, and stored away, you sent the two to their bedroom. He wrapped an arm around your waist and basked in your warmth when you returned the gesture, leaning in so your bodies were comfortably against each other. It felt so good to be able to touch you again.
"I need to speak with Reagan first." You said after a quick kiss. He grimaced at the name but unstuck his claw from your waist. The sooner you spoke to the insolent child, the sooner he would have you for the rest of the night.
He waited in the bedroom, coat off, and glasses on as he read through the abstracts you had made in his absence. Your handwriting was difficult to read but the farther he read in a book, the better it looked.
His foot tapped the floor repeatedly and his eyes kept jumping up to the clock on the mantle. How long did it take to speak to Reagan? It had been thirty minutes already.
He glanced at his cane resting against his leg to ensure it was still there.
Footsteps creaked on the floorboards. His eyes snapped up to the door in anticipation. Upon seeing your head poke through the door, he sprung to his feet and glided over to meet you.
His mind touched yours as his arms wrapped around your back. You let his mind pass through the shields and he shoved away the uneasy feelings Reagan had caused. He felt amusement and annoyance from you at his action.
When you tried to push further past his walls, he placed a firm kiss on your lips as a distraction. He didn't want you to see the building anxieties and tension he had been hiding for weeks since his return. He knew that if you felt him shielding from you too firmly that you would grow upset with him and ask questions.
He threaded his claws through your hair, practically bending you backwards from the effort to be physically close, and searched your mind. It took all of three seconds for you to notice what he was doing and broke the kiss. You pushed him out of your mind and unhooked his arms from your back.
"Tell me what's going on." You crossed your arms.
"What do you mean?" His distractions had failed. How did you even feel he was searching her mind? He had been painstakingly light.
"You keep trying to go deep in my mind but you won't let me into yours."
Ah, so he hadn't been doing a good job at hiding it. Your magic perception must've gotten stronger in his absence. He felt both pride and disappointment knowing he wouldn't be able to hide much from you soon.
"I have allowed you in my mind," he argued gently. He glanced over to see his cane still resting on the chair.
"Not deep. Not as deep as I allow you. So why?"
His eyes left yours as he claws closed around nothing. He summoned his cane into his hand and tried to find the proper words. He felt your mind moving softly around his, not yet trying to push through the barrier. It was something he had done to you so many times before.
He was waiting, expecting you, to say something more to move the conversation along but you didn't. You waited in silence, eyes pinned on him and nowhere else. It was as if he was on a dark stage with a single spotlight on him. Usually he didn't mind it but tonight was different.
"You have your fears, I have my own," he finally said. General, not too specific, but still revealing in a way.
"What fears do you have?" Your question was genuine and not at all accusatory. Everyone had fears. Yet you truly thought he had none.
"Leaving you." His red eyes flicked up to yours for your reaction. Your ears perked up on the sides of your head. Your mouth hung open and a single hand was hovering over your stomach, as if you were debating on touching something, on touching him.
He wanted you to touch him.
"But...why won't you let me in?" you asked next.
"I do not want you to be fearful of my absence again. If I fear it, you will too."
You let out a sigh and took a step closer. Your gentle claw laid carefully on top of the one on his cane while the other gently grabbed his other arm. His hand came up to rest lightly on your back.
"I'm not as fragile as I once was," you said, your eyes scanning his body from his waist to his antlers. They settled down to meet his eyes, "You don't need to protect me from everything."
For a while nothing was said. Your eyes never parted, drinking in each other's gaze after such a long time apart. He noticed then that you were right. You were looking at him differently. Before, you always had a look of anxious anticipation or fear. Now, you looked at him with curiosity and even a fan of confidence. You had grown in the past eight years.
You retracted your hands from his body and he instinctively pulled you against him, afraid to lose you a second time. You let out a small laugh and patted his chest lightly. "I'm just doing something. I'll be right back."
You pushed off his unwillingly arm and walked over to the dresser where a radio sat. You switched it on and turned the dial until you found the station you were looking for. Soft, slow jazz music filled the red room (Unforgettable- Nat King Cole). You kept it at a decent level where you could both hear it but not disturb the children across the hall.
The low piano tunes danced overhead as you sauntered back over to him. You gripped his red staff and lightly pulled his wrist up, successfully peeling off his tight claw from his crutch. You placed his hand at his side and moved to lean the cane against one of the chairs.
You returned to him a moment later, his hands moving instinctively into a waltz position. Your claws were so thin and small compared to his thick, red, sturdy ones. But that didn't lessen your comforting grip. He noticed the way your gaze lingered on your intertwined fingers.
He also noticed the way your pupils widened when they finally looked up at him. His other hand was comfortably on your waist, your own resting on his shoulder. Had you grown taller? He could vaguely remembering stretching his arm more to touch your back when you first learned to dance with him.
He noticed the shadows mimicking the dancing movements along the wall.
He felt a small spike of nervousness from you as you took the first few steps of the waltz. He could feel that it had been some time since you last danced like this with anyone. It was both a sadness and comfort.
He had been stuck in darkness but you had to live on, remaining loyal without an explanation to his disappearance. You had chosen him as he had chosen you. From the big actions like killing Blackwater to the small things like never dancing with someone in his absence, you had chosen him.
His smile grew. His lips were closed as he stared lovingly into your soft eyes. They were the only ones he ever wanted to look at him. They were the only ones that deserved to look at him.
He drunk in your presence, your stare, your love, your touch, your everything. He waited for so long to experience another dance with you. Why had he been so stubborn with you before?
The song ended and you both came to a slow stop. Another song came on, one just as soft and slow as the first, and you continued the gentle waltz (moonlight serenade - glen miller).
Nothing was needed to be said. You basked in each other's mind, unable and unwilling to pull away. You threaded your souls together like stitching a quilt, careful and slow and methodical. No rush. Just peace. Just warmth. Just love.
At one point you laid your head on his chest. Love and adoration swelled inside. He felt like a cup overflowing with something. He was utterly shocked to find himself coming close to the feeling of crying.
He had done plenty of that in the darkness but out here? Why was such a happy moment making him want to cry? It seemed counterintuitive.
You rubbed your head against the red fabric and let out a heavy sigh. He slowly let your hand down and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, allowing you enough room to wrap your own around his waist.
You swayed from side to side now, no stepping required to break your concentration on him. Your mind filled him to every inch and centimeter of his being. He could feel you in his fingers, in his cloved toes, in his wretched tail, in his ears, and every mind space he had.
There was you and only you.
Until your glow dulled as you nearly fell asleep standing up. He hummed a laugh and felt another spike of something strong coming from you. You pushed your face further into his chest.
"Come love," he whispered. He leaned down and lifted your legs, his other hand holding your back securely. He brought you over to the bed and, before placing you down, snapped his fingers to switch you into your usual night attire.
He pulled the covers over your shoulders and moved to get himself ready for bed. Your hand grabbed his and he gently tapped it. "I'll be right back."
He noticed your watchful gaze never left him as he walked to the other side of the room. He snapped his fingers again to adorn himself in different clothes. His cloved feet touched the soft carpet underneath.
He slipped under the covers and you attached yourself to his side instantaneously. He wrapped his arms securely around your back and nuzzled his face into your soft hair. He sucked in your sweet, earthy scent and let out a heavy, relieving sigh. You followed suit.
"Goodnight my dear," he placed a kiss on your head.
"Goodnight," you mumbled. He began to hum a familiar tune and felt your conscious fighting to stay awake to enjoy the feeling of his chest vibrating against your touch.
I love you.
I love you too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note:
It's been a long time coming...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist:
@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall
#demi demon#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#soulmate au#soulmates#reqs open
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PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT
Chapter 4: Half in the shadows, half burned in flames.
Summary: You've been working with Butcher and his team since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander, and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drowning between hatred and your desire to have your vengeance, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female! Reader
Warnings: +18 (minors DNI) smut, language, rough Soldier Boy, violence Soldier Boy being a dick
Word Count: 3005
A/N: English is not my first language.
It has been fifteen minutes since you two entered the club, and you are still waiting for Ben to bring your drink. You already had to dismiss two or three guys while your eyes searched for Ben. Reaching him was another problem since he used to use his phone mostly in a silent or flight mood. He preferred to use yours most of the time. You sighed and stopped calling him after the second time. You felt stressed, as there were also supes in the club.
Unsure of what to do, you headed to the corner and bought yourself a drink while you waited for Ben to arrive. Then, you took a seat to watch Vought's Gala live.
Ben gave your drink to the red-headed supe woman who approached him with a wicked smile on her face. Her curvy figure was nearly visible due to her tight dress, which hung down to her ass. The thought of her red hair nearly infuriated him, as she reminded him of the filthy Crimson Countess. But with all the crap he had to deal with today, he deserved to have fun, and that seemed like a nice escape from his thoughts.
“Look, whom we have here,” she said as she drank the whole glass. “I didn’t expect to see Soldier Boy tonight.”
She bit her lip and touched the hardness between his legs, earning a smile from Ben as she got closer to him. He never liked the small talk anyway.
He quickly said, “You're a lucky one then,” and put down his drink.
He took a moment to concentrate on your voice and presence as the supe woman led him to the restroom, wanting to be sure you were still alone and alright. His body tensed, and he thought about leaving the supe behind when he heard some fucking jackass approaching and trying to start a conversation with you, but he was relieved when you kept rejecting those fuckfaces. Of course, you would.
Ben was finally alone with the read-headed supe and ready to have his fun as he closed the door behind them. She made a move to kiss him, but he stopped her with a firm grip on her chin. Supe’s chin would already be broken if she were a fucking simple human, but he has never fucked a human, nor would he. He would end up killing them in the first five seconds.
“Do you really think I’m going to fuck you like we are fucking lovers?” He growled and spit in her mouth.
She moaned as she swallowed his spit and waited for him to go on. “Oh, fuck, I hope not.”
Putting two of his meaty fingers inside her mouth and making her suck for a while, he took out his thick hardness from his pants.
She continued sucking his fingers and began to rub his hardness, pleading with him, “Fuck me like you want to kill me.”
You kept watching Vought’s announcement after you bought yourself some food. You didn’t hear properly what was going on as there was too much noise around you, so you focused on the visual. You chuckled as Hughie's bashful and clumsy countenance appeared on screen when Annie planted a kiss on his cheek. They were meant to be together.
When Ben turned the supe toward the cabin, he tore her panties, and gave her a single, strong thrust, causing her to cry out in pleasure. Even as a supe, she could feel her ass cheeks hurting from his hands' intense hold on her ass. She bit her lips as he used her body with dominant hands. She bit her lips, feeling how his dominancy controlled her body. Ben continued slapping her ass with his other hand as he gripped her hair and tugged it roughly. He was trying to focus on your voice above the crowd, but the supe’s screaming was getting louder by each second, which was about to make him see red.
He snarled angrily, "Be fucking quiet," and continued to fuck her harder than before, tugging her red hair even more harshly.
But then she grinned wickedly, moaned even louder, and began to rub her clit. He continued to fuck her with his deep, coarse thrusts while the obscene, wet sound filled the bathroom.
“You're just a dirty slut addicted to supe cocks, right?” He growled, grasping her chin hard as he accelerated his pace. “You like being taken in a cheap restroom just like that; you like it rough.”
In a furious attempt to get satisfaction, Ben began to penetrate her more quickly and spank her ass harder. Instead of feeling pleasure, he was becoming enraged. He blamed you for distracting him like that.
Ben closed his eyes as thoughts of your hardened nipples peeking out from under that dark green dress filled his mind. Thinking of your dress, his hands grew tighter on the supe's. Instead of concentrating on the supe underneath him, he acted as though you were beneath him and, to beg, the one to shout his name between his forceful and rapid thrusts. He would find it easier to reach his pleasure because of how tightly your pussy would clamp around him.
If only you were a supe, you could take him exactly like that. Ben picked up his pace as he thought about your body.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispered as he realized he was getting close. Just this once, he thought.
His powerful thrusts had brought her to the brink of pleasure. Her legs trembled as she orgasmed and yelled out in pleasure.
She pleaded, “Please, come in my mouth,” still trembling from the orgasm, and he continued to fuck her.
When he finally reached the peak of pleasure, he abruptly pulled out his hard member and turned her body, making her kneel before him and open her lips with a tight grip on her chin. He groaned, filling her mouth with his thick white ropes.
“You're lucky I feel generous today.” After he emptied himself in her mouth, he made her suck his heavy balls and clean his softening member.
He groaned as he removed his hardness from her mouth, and when she licked her lips, he gave her a menacing smile.
“Fuck, you are something else, Soldier Boy,” she murmered, watching him tuck himself into his pants. “We’re so good together, right? You know, I’d like to do that soon again.”
“There was only one fucking good thing about the fuck, but it wasn’t even about you,” he said with a smirk on his face before opening the door and leaving the supe behind as he went to the man’s bathroom to clean himself properly.
As you stood up to order yourself another drink, you sensed a strong hand seizing yours daringly.
“Hey there,” a man shot you a hopeful glance. “It appears that you are by yourself tonight. Would you like to have some fun with me?”
You said, “No, thank you,” trying to save your hand from his hurtful grip. You knew he was a supe when you saw that, despite your struggle, he didn't even move. You remained cool so as not to hurt yourself or make him hurt you.
“Do you want to play difficult or something? You must know that I’m not known for my patience, baby.”
If he had been a human, you would have struck his head until you were certain he was put in a fucking comatose, but you knew that you should show kindness when it came to men like him. You wouldn’t want to make a fragile supe guy angry.
“It's just I don’t want it. Please, could you unhand me?” Your heart began racing as you attempted to seem kind and convincing to him enough to let you go, and your eyes searched for Bne. You never know how a supe would respond to being rejected by a regular human like you. You’ve never wanted to be a supe, but you wanted to be one of them at that moment.
Ben’s patience, which was already on thin ice, was completely gone when he heard you were trying to save yourself from some son of a bitch. His body tensed with fury as he caught the supe’s arm. He didn’t plan to slaughter a supe fuckface that night, but so be it.
“No means fucking no, you fuckface.” Ben snarled, breaking the supe's arms with ease. The sound was sickening. Ben was going to make damn sure that cocksucker never used those arms again. He felt his chest growing warmer but didn’t care.
“Fuck, I am sorry, Soldier Boy,” he cried out. “I swear I won’t do it again. I am sorry,” he kept begging.
“Ben,” you said panickly and touched his chest, trying to calm him down. “Let’s not make a scene; we are here to have fun, right?”
Ben ignored your pleas and the warmth on his chest.
“No, lets.”
You became alarmed as you sensed his chest growing warmer by the moment. You could have hurt yourself trying to stop him, but it could have gotten even worse if you didn’t. “Ben, please calm down, or you'll kill us all.”
The warmth on his chest got so hot it hurt to touch, so you moaned in pain and withdrew your hands back to yourself.
Ben threw the supe off to the closest table and yelled, “Get the fuck out of here, or tonight will be the night you fucking die.”
Then he turned to you. “Are you okay?”
It was crazy that nobody seemed to care about what was happening.
“Where the hell have you been?” You shouted at him, your eyes watering. You couldn't tell if you were hurt by his absence or the warmth on his chest.
Ignoring your question, he checked your hands to see if you were okay.
“You can’t even survive for fucking ten minutes, can you?” He said, with equal anger, and let go of your hands when he made sure you were okay. He should have killed that cocksucker.
“You can’t even buy a drink.”
“Touche,” he grinned, gently touching your cheek as he noticed the rage in your eyes. “You know, you would blow this fucking place up with that fury sweetheart, if only you were just like me.”
Ben's own rage subsided upon witnessing yours get heated. Knowing that you didn't get angry as often as he did, it amused him to see such fury in you. Like you could do anything to harm him.
You furrowed your brows and said, “You ruined the night,” but you still allowed him to touch you as he liked it.
“Come on,” he said, lifting your chin to look into your watered eyes. “I didn’t ruin anything yet.”
He might have ignored your complaints if it were another day, but Ben felt guilty for leaving you alone and letting a fuckface disturb you while he was fucking a supe and getting off in the bathroom thinking about you.
“I feel tired,” you sighed, saving yourself from his soft touch and making a move to leave the club. It was pretty late already.
Ben approached the car as you settled into the passenger seat. You may have consumed a bit too much alcohol, so he should be able to drive you home at least after all the shit he caused.
For a little while, you felt ridiculous and foolish for dressing that way only to be left alone and have someone else bother you. There was nothing you could do to capture Ben's attention. Fuck, you thought. Green didn’t even fit you in the first place. When you realized how miserable and pitiful you were, your stomach curled with pain.
You looked at him as though you were going to beg him to take action and put an end to your suffering. You would be going to Vought's Gala if you knew he would be better off without you. You weren’t sure if he was babysitting you or vice versa.
“What now?” he asked with a coarse voice, turning his head to you.
When he saw your beseeching eyes staring at him in the darkness and your stunning figure in the ideal shade of green dress, he felt a sense of guilt taking over his chest.
“Do you think I look good?” you asked without worrying about his response. Maybe the alcohol in your veins made you talk, but it didn’t matter at all. You didn’t feel drunk.
Startled by your inquiry, he abruptly pulled his hands from the steering wheel, grabbed you by the hip, and pulled you onto his lap with ease. You let out a little sound as your eyes widened. You placed your hands on his large shoulders, unsure of how to proceed. After all, you've never let someone this close to you. You've never been fond of the concept of being touched until you realized that Ben's touch is the only touch you've ever really craved and desired, even though you couldn’t tell when it started.
His hands remained on your hip for a moment, measuring your reaction. You shifted on him a little to find a more comfortable position, and the friction made a pleasure appear between your legs. Your hands clenched around his broad shoulders as you felt an electric thrill rush through your body. Ben’s hands closed around your dress and slowly lifted it up.
His hardness contacted your panties and throbbed beneath you, making you shiver. Gazing intently at him, you let your hands drop to his firm, strong biceps. With the same caution, he stroked your legs and watched you, encouraging you to go on.
Ben let you do whatever you needed to find pleasure, and he tried to control the immense power of his hands when he gripped your hips. He was aware of the fact that just a second would be enough to kill you. It wouldn’t end well if he focused on his own pleasure.
You rubbed against his pants in an attempt to feel the same pleasure as a moment ago, and the friction made you moan softly. As you continued to rub against him, you felt your nipples harden beneath your dress.
Though you kept rubbing against him with slow movements, you found it hard to reach the peak of your pleasure, so you stopped, not knowing what to do or how to do it.
“Unable to get in there?” He chuckled, and lifted you with one hand with ease.
Your hands trembled against his bisceps as you watched him upzip his pants and take off his enormous length. If he was going to take you, you weren't sure if you should inform him that it would be your first time. You didn't say anything because you were afraid he might quit, and you weren't sure you would get another chance to touch him that way.
“I won’t fuck you,” he said, as though he read your mind at that moment.
You both let out a moan after he put you on himself once more. You placed your hands on his abdomen, tugging his shirt up to reveal his powerful muscles as you felt the lengthy hardness of his body throbbing on your damp underwear.
“Fuck,” he groaned as he urged you to go faster and tightened his arms around your hips.
Ben let go of the dress hanger and lifted your dress even higher, exposing your whole body to his gaze. You started to move against his shaft more quickly when you felt one of his hands squeeze your tit hard enough to make you moan half in pleasure and half in pain.
When your orgasm hit, your walls clenched around nothing, and you whimpered softly. As you locked your hands around his neck and placed your clothed pussy on his length, your legs began to shiver. Ben's hands were pressing you even closer to himself as he observed every expression you made as you orgasmed.
Ben moved beneath you and pushed you against the streering wheel with a rough move shortly after the effects of your orgasm subsided. He then slipped your underwear aside and continued to rub his hardness against your sensitive pussy with harsh and quick movements. You moaned loudly as his strong hands dominated you, though you knew your body would bruise tomorrow.
Seeing you naked and lost in pleasure under him, he goraned against your neck and pushed you against the wheel harder. His legs forced you to spread yours wider.
He took himself in his hand, jerked off on you, and began to empty his thick white ropes over your pussy, causing your clit to clench for the second time as he orgasmed. You watched Ben empty his cum on your pussy while his other hand bruised your hips. The tension made your eyes water and your legs shiver.
You watched him with widened eyes, coming to your senses. Your heart was beating like crazy as he released his grip on your underwear while you were coated with his cum. He gazed at your naked form once more before he adjusted your dress. You took your hands to yourself as he tucked himself back in his pants.
He didn’t even kiss you once.
A/N: This is the first time I wrote smut. I’ll be damned. I’m not built for this, lol. Comments are appreciated, hehe. <3
Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @yvonneeeee
* Please, let me know if you want to be tagged *
#jensen ackles#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#the boys season 3#the boys tv#jensen ackles soldier boy#the boys series#the boys#soldier boy the boys#the boys amazon#smut#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x y/n#jensen ackles the boys#the boys soldier boy
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