#FUCK. the relief is so great. you’ve no idea
Note
It’s the morning after a wild New Year’s Eve party and there are quite a few regrets. . . .writer's choice for characters! ^_^
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Thanks for your one-and-a-bit-years’ long patience on this 😩 I’m so excited to finally, FINALLY share this with you!!
(Prompt from this post. Thanks @noworneverphantom and @1mnobodywhoareyou for beta-ing)
AND NOW, THE FIC (M rating, 2.1k words):
Anyone who thinks having your ears assaulted with the incessant blaring of a dawn break alarm is a great way to start the day is a damn liar.
He slaps his hand over the bedside table blindly until he finally hits the offending object. The noise stops. He flops over onto his stomach.
It’s 7am, January 1st. Fantastic information for someone who actually cares. Not him, though.
His body, however, does. Five hours is not nearly enough to… Well, five hours is not enough. Celebratory drinks on New Year’s Eve can be fun! He just forgets about the part where he has to wake up with the consequences.
He yawns, jaw aching with the stretch, and ribs protesting with the expansion of his breath. Something twitches under his palm. It kinda tickles. He sniffs.
A moment passes. There’s another twitch, then a quiet squeak.
Oh, Reggie thinks. He should probably move in case it’s a rat or something. But lifting his arm suddenly feels like lifting a boulder that’s been superglued to the ground. He sighs. It would be so easy to give up right now.
So he does.
It’s not a big deal. He could probably handle having a little rat friend. Besides, rats are cute. And if his parents didn’t let him have a hamster back in high school—well, now he can have–
An annoyed grumble. Reggie screws up his face. That’s a loud fucking rat, probably one that won’t be much fun to take care of, actually.
So Reggie, still half-asleep and hungover to all hell, makes a decision that any other responsible adult in his situation would make:
He’s going to grab the little guy.
Reggie’s fingers slowly draw in. His eyebrows furrow. It’s something smooth, and a little more triangular than the rat-shape he was expecting. Not that he’s one to body shame.
Experimentally, he squishes it.
There’s a splutter, then–
“Ow!” Reggie whines when his hand gets slapped away.
“Dude, what the hell?”
Reggie’s eyes snap open, sunlight stinging before he can smack a hand over them. “What the hell?” he parrots.
“Lemme breathe.”
“Okay,” Reggie croaks, a little hysterically. “Yeah, sure. W-what are you doing in my bed, though?”
From the other side, Luke snorts. “S’my bed, dude.”
No, it’s not, Reggie wants to say. Because that would be stupid. Being in Luke’s bed would be stupid. Reggie knows that, and Luke has to know that. They’re in a band together! A band where they’d all agreed to never shoot their shot within the group.
More specifically, Reggie had promised both Julie and Alex separately that he won’t get caught up in his long-standing crush on Luke, and that he definitely won’t end up in Luke’s bed. It’s too risky.
So this can’t be Luke’s bed, Reggie thinks, because then we would be in big trouble.
There’s some shuffling beside him, followed by a deep sigh. Reggie peeks through the gap between his fingers. Luke’s eyes are closed, the crease of his brow just smoothing out. Reggie watches Luke’s mouth soften, lips parting slightly, his breaths returning to slow waves. He looks so peaceful.
Just as the thought occurs, Reggie huffs out a small laugh. “Thought you were a rat,” he murmurs.
Luke doesn’t reply. Reggie shuts his eyes again.
So maybe he’s thought about this before, waking up next to Luke all soft and rumpled. Maybe it’s a daydream he likes to revisit regularly. So what? Sue him. It’s not like he’d say no given the chance.
Besides, he seems to recall only saying that he won’t end up in Luke’s bed, so… yeah. He just has to verify that he’s in his own bed, and they’ll be fine. Probably.
Reggie rolls over gingerly, cracking open an eyelid to squint through the bright morning haze. It’s hard to tell whose room it is at a glance when the layouts are so similar:
There’s a wooden desk shoved into a corner at the other end of the room, the chair pulled out to accommodate the mountain of clothes dumped on it; an acoustic guitar sits beside the tallboy, occupying the only section of the floor that’s ever seen the light of day. Speaking of light, why is it so fucking bright?
Reggie props himself up with one elbow, then braves a look at the source of light.
Of course, he groans. The blue curtains hanging over the window are, for some godforsaken reason, open—pushed to the sides, allowing the morning sun to flood the room.
Sure! Reggie thinks. That’s not even the worst part about it, so why not? The only thing that could possibly be worse than this is if Julie and Alex were here pointing at the curtains themselves; because the curtains in Reggie's room are red.
“Fuck,” Reggie moans, letting his eyes fall shut.
If there’s one thing Luke’s good at, it’s persuading Reggie to do things. Stupid things that will get them into stupid trouble.
Maybe they could say it was just a sleepover? Nothing had to have happened between them. Just a couple of bros sharing a bed. It’s winter, it’s cold. Saving on heating bills. Something like that. That sounds reasonable enough, yeah?
He looks back at Luke, and yeah, okay. That’s great, actually—Luke’s not wearing a shirt. That’s… fine. Luke’s fine. Like, really fine.
Getting off track. It’s fine! They’ve all seen Luke waltzing around without a shirt before. Hell, even if he was wearing one, half the material would be gone along with the sleeves. So the story could still pass. This is nothing new.
What is new, to Reggie’s horror, is the massive purple bruise blooming on the side of Luke’s neck. Reggie does not squeak. How did he miss that? It’s huge!
Don’t panic, Reggie tells himself, panicking. There could be any number of reasons why there’s a hickey the size of a golf ball on Luke’s neck. Probably just as many as for why they’ve woken up in the same bed.
Reggie can think of exactly one.
Alex is gonna be so mad. Julie is gonna be so mad.
He swallows. It’s fine, he tells himself, like it’ll be real if he keeps saying it. Maybe this could be salvageable somehow. If they’re sticking with the sleepover thing (which he’ll talk to Luke about… probably), then he should check that they’re wearing clothes. That would make it more plausible. Hopefully.
The back of his neck prickles with sweat, and he suddenly wishes the thought never occurred to him. Now he can’t stop thinking about Luke laying beside him, naked. He can’t stop thinking about Luke seeing him naked. Reggie bites his lip. This is a bad idea. Maybe he can just roll over and go back to sleep and he’ll wake up from this dream.
Except, Reggie has never been one to deny his curiosity, even if it does trap the rat, or however the saying goes. He inhales sharply.
Careful not to disturb Luke, Reggie slowly lifts up the edge of the covers. He takes in a quiet breath and, before he can psyche himself out, leans down to take a peek.
He slaps a hand over his mouth.
We’re gonna die, Reggie thinks, heart pounding in his chest. Alex and Julie are gonna kill us, and we’re gonna die.
“Luke,” Reggie says, nudging him with the back of his hand. “Luke. Luke.”
“What?”
Reggie bites his lip. He has to be smart about this. Although he doesn’t know how smart he can be with this headache swooping back in. “Do you, uh, usually sleep naked?”
Luke snorts. Reggie’s face heats up. “Yeah,” Luke says.
Reggie’s pulse quickens. “So this is normal?”
“Yeah,” Luke says again, slower this time, an unreadable look on his face.
“In– in the middle of winter?”
“What are you, my mom?”
Reggie squeaks. “I-I just mean, like– what if– what if someone else is in your bed?”
Luke blinks. His lips curl up into a smirk.
“Well,” he drawls, propping himself up on an elbow. “Seems like you already know the answer to that.”
“I-I mean–” Reggie stammers, cheeks growing hot. “You could’ve at least– put some pants on, or, or… um…” he trails off, watching Luke’s eyes rake down his chest and slowly drag them back up again. When their eyes meet, Luke slips his tongue out to wet his lips. Reggie’s skin prickles.
“Now, why would I want to do that if the clothes are just gonna come right off again?”
Reggie has never claimed to have a strong resolve. They don’t make it out of bed for a while.
———
“What the hell is that?” Alex demands.
Act casual. Be natural.
”Yeah, Reg,” Luke smirks. Reggie’s blood runs cold. “What the hell did you do to me?”
Alex rounds on him. “You did this?”
“Did what?” comes Julie’s voice, and Reggie instinctively scans the studio for cover. Julie stops in the doorway, staring at Luke. “What the hell is that?” she asks, tone measured.
“That’s what I said,” mutters Alex.
Reggie glances at Luke, who’s still proudly parading the massive hickey on his neck like it won’t get them murdered. Reggie resists the urge to put his face in his hands and scream.
Julie looks between Luke’s smug expression and Reggie’s guilty-puppy eyes, and Reggie can pinpoint the exact moment it clicks.
“Oh my god, what did we say about hooking up within the band?!”
“Felt fucking good, though,” Luke says with a sly smile. “Reggie’s mouth–”
“Absolutely not,” Julie cuts in, holding up a hand. “I never, in a billion years, want to hear about what happened between you and Reggie’s mouth. Gross.”
“Yeah,” Alex says, raising a pocketed hand. “Me too.”
Reggie’s face grows hot. Hell could open up a trap door to a thousand spikes underneath him right now and it would suck less.
“I’m gonna need a moment,” Julie announces. “You two–” she points between Luke and Reggie “–behave. I’ll be back.”
Reggie hangs his head, shame creeping up the back of his neck. He hates disappointing people, least of all Julie Molina. Now the fate of his spot in the band, and probably his friendship with Julie, is doomed.
He hazards a glimpse at Luke. He actually looks sorry now that Julie’s out of sight.
Alex sighs and turns to them, lips pressed into a thin line.
“Alright, Alex, go ahead,” Luke grumbles. “We know you’ve got something to say.”
Alex watches them carefully for a beat before opening his mouth. “Okay, I don’t wanna say I told you so–”
“Yes, you do,” Reggie mumbles.
“Yes, I do,” Alex concedes, shutting his eyes for a second. “But I won’t, because I know you know you messed up. Okay, we all agreed this wouldn’t happen. I’ve kept up my end of the deal. Julie’s kept hers…” He trails off, shrugging. He doesn’t need to say it, but Reggie can practically hear it. Why was it so hard for you to do the same?
Reggie looks at Luke, then back to Alex before dropping his gaze. He’s just about to open his mouth to apologise when the door creaks open.
“Okay,” Julie breathes, carefully closing the door behind her and stepping into the space. “Now that I’m over the initial shock of…” She gestures vaguely at Luke and clears her throat. “I’ve given it some thought, and I’ve decided…” She looks between Luke and Reggie, biting her lip nervously. “We can make an exception here,” she says finally.
“Wait, seriously?” Luke and Alex say in unison. They grimace at each other.
Julie stares. “Okay… anyway,” she says. “Yes, I am serious. Just as long as the two of you—Luke and Reggie—can keep it professional when we’re together as a band.”
“Yeah,” Alex agrees. “We don’t want personal stuff to get in the way of how we work, right?”
Reggie could almost cry with relief, wrapping his arms around Julie in a tight hug with an earnest “Thank you!” before releasing her so Luke can do the same.
With the air cleared, they disperse to set up for the day. Luke bumps his hip against Reggie and throws him a wink. Reggie blushes despite himself.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Julie pipes up. “In case it wasn’t clear enough: no hooking up on band time. Got it?”
Reggie straightens up and salutes her. “Yes, ma’am!”
He hears Luke laugh next to him. “You got it, boss,” he says.
Julie rolls her eyes fondly, and returns to setting up her keyboard stand.
Reggie feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around, and Luke presses a quick kiss to his lips. It happens so swiftly that Reggie is left stunned; he stares wide-eyed after Luke, who’s already making his way toward his mic.
Somewhere behind him, Reggie hears Alex mutter, “Why do I have to be here?”
#jatp#jatp fic#luke patterson#reggie peters#peterpatter#ruke#ask#jmrothwell#new year prompts#writing prompts#i write things#mine#FUCK. the relief is so great. you’ve no idea#I’m so happy i finally get to share this AHHHH#i hope i made it worth the wait
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FUCK IT
SUMMERY : Reader gets her date interrupted when Hotch calls up asking for her to get to the BAU. Reader rushes over still dressed up and a certain dr can’t keep her eyes off her teehee.
Tags:fem reader , a huge amount of awkwardness, reader is over her love life
A/N: I WANTED AWKWARD SPENCER REID, bare with me tho cuz I haven’t written a fanfic since I was 13 and it was horrible so please be kind and let me know your thoughts :))) enjoyyy.
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You were used to your phone ringing at the WORST possible times, I mean with your job that was something you just had to prepare yourself for. Serial killers don’t take a break just so you can have a girls night out or take a nice relaxing bath after a long day. Although never in your life did you imagine the wave of relief that would wash over you as the all too familiar ringtone blared from your phone. Normally you would groan and feel your body grow more exhausted whilst hesitantly picking up the phone, but not tonight. Nope. Fortunately for hotch, you couldn’t have answered the phone faster. “what’s up” low and behold hotch was on the other end requesting your presence ASAP!
You tried to hide your glee as you glanced over at the douche-ist blind date that the great quote on quote “matchmaker” of the century Garcia, had raved on about the week before. To be fair the date didn’t start off bad, it was actually the most decent one you’ve had yet. Honestly you were ready to finally praise Penelope for actually finding you a decent man to take your mind off the unrequited school girl crush that you had on a certain “kid” genius. somehow you escaped the dude who clearly was stuck in some frat boy mindset, well not without some snarky comment made towards you which you shut down a little harsher then needed but seriously you couldn’t hold back anymore, you had no idea what possessed Penelope into thinking you would EVER consider going home with the king of fucking douchebags (most likely the biceps and tight clothing that the man sported). Nevertheless here you were speeding down the freeway, thinking way too hard about your love life completely blanking and forgetting to drop by your apartment to quickly change into something more work appropriate.
Before you knew it you’ve parked your car, walking into the cold air. A shiver runs down your body and the shock hits you when you realize. Here you are in a little skimpy black dress that clings to your curves in “just the right way” according to Penelope before shoving you out into your car heading to that horrible excuse of a date, “ahh shit. Fucken seriously! Of course this is just my luck … I mean at least I look good” groaning and mumbling to yourself, you make your way into the building. You knew Hotch would be understanding, I mean you never know when you’re gonna be called in and it sounded urgent so yeah, sometimes you and your coworkers walk in with inappropriate work wear. You will never forget the time he called everyone in at god knows what time, Spencer had walked into the room with his pjs sporting a fluffy dress robe, you seriously thought someone was going to have to perform cpr on you that night.
Walking into the building in heels was definitely a pain in your ass, but you managed as you pushed the briefing room door open. A low wolf whistle from Derek Morgan was the last thing you needed right now “damn sweetheart, who knew you could clean up so nicely“ As you make your way into the room, you playfully roll your eyes at him.“haha very funny” you cringed as everyone’s attention was now drawn to you. while taking a seat next to JJ, wishing to be wearing literally anything else “Sorry Hotch, i came straight from..” you hesitate for a second, glancing around before continuing “A date, but this sounded important so I didn’t have time to change”The stoned faced man simply nods at you “It’s fine. You're here, right now we have a lot to cover” He starts debriefing the team, leaving no detail out of the case, no matter how brutal, you tried your hardest to give him your unwavering attention, but you could feel someone’s eyes on you. And out of the corner of your eye see him. Spencer.
His stare was hot and intense, and fuck was it making you become a flustered mess. You glanced at him from your peripheral trying your best to be subtle about it, it was getting harder and harder to focus on Hotch and the case, not Reid. But when his puppy dog eyes drifted up, down and all over your body, your body involuntarily reacted, slightly squirming in your seat. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes turn and lock onto his gorgeous brown ones, a smirk graces your lips as he finally notices your eyes now on him. Looking like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turns pink from the embarrassment and shame of being caught, and god did that make your head spin. Now it was his turn to awkwardly squirm in his seat while staring at Hotch with all his attention. You giggle under your breath at his fumbling awkwardness. Before you know it everyone around you starts to pack up their things and stand up, leaving you confused. Of course you spent the whole debriefing paying so little attention to the case and more on Spencer.
Sighing, you pull the hem of your dress down as you stand trying to save yourself from even more embarrassment. “soooo how did it go? Was he as yummy as you’d hoped?” Garcia wraps her arms around yours as you try not to stumble down the stairs towards your desk “you, my love are officially banned from meddling in my love life” you could already hear the trail of complaints bouncing around in her head as you plopped down onto your desk chair, reaching for the new case folder hoping to catch yourself up before take off in the morning “aww come on I for sure thought you’d be jumping his bones, all those rippling muscles, who In Their right mind could resist” the thought of the man you had seen a few hours prior put a foul taste in your mouth, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust “he was a complete dick, he legit referred to himself as an “alpha male” AN ALPHA ,Only thing I wanted to jump , was off a building at that point” a defeated look from her was all the conformation you needed, no longer were you going on blind dates, and your love life was back to being non existent and sad “sorry Pen I tried, I really really tried, you just have horrific taste in men like my god do we need to get you some help. These guys are basically human garbage” whilst looking up your eyes naturally drift and settle on Spencers desk frowning as you watch him, his heads buried in the case file whilst obsessively jotting down notes like some multitasking god, your heart couldn’t help but pine after his more, the looks you shared moments before didn’t help your case either. Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you drag your eyes away trying to spare yourself from going into one of your Spencer Reid spirals. You look up at Penelope already disliking the pitiful look she was giving you “are you sure your ready to give up?, I mean I know this cute guy who would be super into you, he's just your type “the new voice startled you, turning in your seat you’re met with Emily smirking down at you whilst leaning against your desk inserting herself into the conversation with JJ beside her “wow ok fun, are we all just gonna just dive head first into my personal life?, don’t we have a case to work on?” trying to deter the subject of the conversation off of you was a bust, as the women you call friends gleam down at you with a shared look “yeah no this is too entertaining to sit out on.” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now, letting out a groan you leaned back in your chair covering your face in hopes of hiding the redness in your cheeks “sweetheart, what you need is a good ol one night stand, get a certain pretty boy out of your system” if you weren’t already melting into a puddle of embarrassment, you definitely were now “Morgan shut up please for the love of everything holy”
you could only pray Spencer wasn’t paying attention to the little group that was forming at your desk, maybe he was being good and reading the case file like the rest of them should be doing but of course luck wasn’t in your favor tonight “what are we talking about?” Before you could shut the whole conversation down Morgan happily answered Spencer “oh, we were just discussing Y/L/N’s love life. I think she needs a good root, what do you think?” that stupid smirk Morgan was happily wearing was enough to make your blood boil, now you truly wished to disappear “ok ok that’s enough” you shoot up from your seat avoiding any eye contact with Spencer not wanting to see his reaction to your humiliating red face “conversation over, my love life is going back to being non existent, thank you for your concern but it’s over, officially dead so no more talking about it.” you snatch the file off your desk ready to get the hell out of whatever situation you found yourself in “i'm going home to at least get some sleep before we leave tomorrow or I’ll be a zombie all day” with that you hastily made your way out of the building and into the cool night air once again.
wrapping your arms around yourself in hopes to provide some warmth, you slowly make your way to the car park. Before you could make it to your car you could hear foot steps getting closer and closer until they were right behind you, stopping along with yours once you had reached front of your car. Quickly spinning around you slam them onto the car's hood, arm in your hand, face down and pinned.
“Ow ow ow ow Ow!” Shit. It was Spencer. The man you’ve been daydreaming about and here you were pinning him to the hood of your car. “oh shit sorry, my god, don’t walk up on me like that holy shit Spence you scared me” you pull away off him whilst letting go of his arm and backing away a little. Spencer lets out a hiss of pain as he pushes himself off the hood, rubbing his arm to try and relieve the pain “sorry I was just trying to make sure you got to your car safely. It’s late a-and” he looks at your dress whilst clearing his throat looking away awkwardly “are you ok? you seemed upset in there” he looks back at you whilst giving you a smile that made you wanna pass away on the spot “yeah I’m ok, just having your dating life put on full blast in front of the team like that can be a tad embarrassing” silence was the only response you were met with, you glance up at Spencer trying to think of something, anything to say in this moment “you look really nice by the way, it’s unfortunate your date turned out that way.” His eyes meet yours, your breath gets caught in your throat as heat creeps up your neck to your face “t-thanks” tugging on the hem of your dress you smile sheepishly “not the most comfortable outfit, honestly wish Pen let me wear my sweater but you know”
“Penelope” you both say, you giggle as Spencer chuckles. “Oh by the way, I thought you may want these, may help a little tomorrow” he hands you the notes he took from the briefing, Your fingertips brush against his, the feeling of warmth from his hands sends a shiver down your spine. “Thanks Spence. I appreciate it” you stand there longer than needed before you start to turn away from him. “You know, that even though there aren't any hard statistics, it’s roughly estimated that every 1 in 3 or 4 blind dates actually end up as a success” he rambles on, looking back at him you try to pay attention but you can’t stop your eyes from sifting down towards his lips “so there is a chance” his voice fades away as his words become background noise and your thoughts become louder and louder, all you could think about was him, the feeling of wanting only grew stronger with each passing minute. It didn’t help that his lips were tempting you, calling you in. you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer, will power growing weaker and weaker “fuck it” your body moves before commen sense had its time to put a stop to whatever ridiculous thoughts you had muster up, suddenly your lips press onto his without thinking it through. It was short and one sided yet sweet, the faint taste of coffee and sugar overwhelmed your senses
The sudden realization hits you hard as you push yourself off Reid, the feelings of regret and fear settles itself in your stomach making you feel sick “Sorry I wasn’t thinking, shit sorry, forget that happened ok” you back away keeping your eyes glued to the ground in fear that you’ll look up and only see rejection written on his face. What in the hell possessed you to do that?, why the fuck did you do that, the only reason you kept your feelings shoved down was to protect your friendship with Spencer, nothing meant more to you then the bond you both shared and now you’ve ruined it and for what? A stupid kiss? “wait, uh No no it was just unexpected I didn’t hate it actually quite the opposite” your head snaps back up at a red faced flustered Spencer Reid “don't apologize“ his warm hands warp around your cold ones as he steps closer to you once again “did you um maybe want to try that again? Only if you want to though I don’t want you to regret anything” you giggle as he starts to nervously stumble over his words, this time more confident in your actions your lips find his for the second time tonight.
The taste of coffee meets your lips again as your body relaxes into the kiss, which is very reciprocated this time. The warmth radiating from Spencer chases the cold night air away. As your bodies shuffle closer together. you both hesitantly pull away from each, you wanted to stay here in this moment for as long as possible but of course your bed was calling your name along with the early flight departure. “I should go” you really didn’t want to “I know“ his hands stayed on your waist for a moment before slipping away “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” the sweet look on his face drove you crazy, the urge to say fuck it and stay with him for the remainder of the night was overpowered by the sleepless night before, you settle for placing a goodnight kiss on his cheek instead “night Spence” winking you open your car door and make your way in, you turn the car on and roll the window down to call out to him as he backs away with a smug smirk on his face “sweet dreams pretty boy” with that you drive away replaying the events of tonight in your mind, god you couldn’t wait to get the case over with so you could finally have a date that wasn’t going to end in ruins, especially with the man you’ve been crushing on since your first day, yeah no you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight now.
#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds x reader
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Can you write something where the reader is badly injured in some way and jason rushes her to the manor for help and everybody is confused on who she is bc they didnt even know he was in a relationship (despite them being together for awhile) but they see how soft and cute he is with her. (I’ve never made a request so sorry if it got kinda rambley)
anon you’ve got me TEEMING with ideas I LOVE the trope of nobody knowing jason has a girlfriend and they find out but it is NOT by Jason’s choice nor reader’s.
Also omg? Your first ask is to lil ol me?? That means this is a special occassion. And you’re doing great I’ve def sent worse asks.
Out of the Bag
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Hurt and Comfort.
Word Count: 1,862
Warnings: Injuries, swearing, near death experience, blood, knife mention, stabbing, canon-typical violence, use of pet names (princess, baby), drug (pain med) use
You were sat in an alleyway, vision going in and out.
“Tell me something, princess. Anything.” Jason’s voice rang out in your ear.
That’s right. In your right hand, you held your phone, to your ear. Your other hand was pressing the fabric of your coat to the side of your stomach. The blood had soaked through, becoming sticking on your palm and fingers.
You should’ve listened to Jason. You shouldn’t have walked home alone, at night. Luckily your phone had been in your pocket and not your purse, which had been stolen from you by the same guy who decided to stab you.
“Princess,” he sounded panicked.
Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”
You heard a sigh of relief leave him, “That’s my girl.”
The phone slipped from your grip a little as your head swam. The sight of blood coming from your own abdomen made no help in quelling your nausea.
You fixed the phone. You had called Jason the second the guy ran off, leaving you to bleed out. He was driving, you think. Tracking your phone to try and get to you. “How far?”
He said something you didn’t hear. Your vision was swimming, your side was aching, and you couldn’t help but keep this funny understanding out of your mind that you were dying.
That this is something Jason had come back to your apartment with a few times, claiming it was nothing. It was something.
You heard him call your name, “What’s around you?”
“I’m tired,” you mumbled.
It seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Jason was trying to tell you to stay awake, to look at the alley around you. To look out towards the street and tell him what you saw. Then he was there, standing in front of you, his helmet hiding his face.
“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He cupped your face, tapping your cheek to get you to open up your eyes. He crouched down, pulling your hand from your side to assess the damage.
You smiled lazily and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder.
Jason muttered a slew of swears as he pressed something soft yet hard against your agonizing wound. You let out a yelp before Jason was picking you up, placing you on his bike.
He’s talking fast, “Fuck. Okay, listen to me. We’re going to go somewhere new, okay? There’s nowhere around here except there for me to get you safe.”
You passed out nearly as soon as he started the bike.
Jason’s freaking. He had tried to keep you safe from anything like this. From everything less than this. And here you were, bleeding out in his arms as he carried you through the batcave. He beelined for the cots and the medical supplies off to the side. He knows his motorcycle couldn’t have been the smoothest of rides for someone in your condition, but it’s all he had in such a short time span.
He’ll apologize when you wake up.
When. He repeats. When she wakes up and when we can get the hell out of this place again and when I can remind her I love her.
No one was back from patrol yet. He set you down on the cot before tearing off his helmet. He tossed it aside, pulling out a med bag and ripping it open. He pushed up your shirt, examining your side and where he had placed the military-grade gauze pad. He curses at the amount of blood.
His hands are shaking. Jason’s hands don’t shake, but you’ve proven to him a lot of things you could make him do that he hadn’t known he was capable of in the last year and (almost) a half of your relationship.
Jason nearly drops the suture thread before another hand is reaching out from just behind him. It catches the thread and Jason looks back over his shoulder. Alfred’s there, moving up to you.
“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”
Jason hadn’t even heard him come up. He’s nodding, stepping back to let Alfred take over the stitching. He moves to the other side of the bed.
That’s when he catches sight of the dark figure moving closer from behind Alfred. Jason immediately fixes him with a deadly glare, pointing at Bruce, “Do not come closer!”
Bruce stills. He’s in his bat suit, his cowl hanging behind his head, exposing his face. He looks down to your body, “Who is she?”
Jason doesn’t want him here. Rather, he doesn’t want to be here. You should’ve been home by now. Getting ready for bed and sending him a goodnight text. He turns his gaze back to you.
There’s some hair across your face that he hadn’t noticed. He moves it out of your way without a second thought, “My girlfriend.”
“Finally feel some remorse for sending someone to their grave, Todd?” Damian’s voice spoke up, walking up and stopping beside Bruce, “He’s probably trying to just reverse what he did.”
Jason ignores him. He wants to yell, scream, and maybe shoot the little bastard, but he was right. In a way, this was his fault. He didn’t look after you. He should’ve offered you a ride. Called you a taxi. An uber. Anything.
Jason grips your hand into his. It’s a way to count your heartbeat, and another way to ground himself. To reassure that you’ll be okay. His other hand stays on your cheek. His thumb gently moves back and forth, stroking your skin.
He barely registers Bruce telling Damian to go wash up. When the brat is gone, Bruce speaks up again, “What happened?”
Jason doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “She was walking home from her friend’s. A mugger got her purse, she fought back. He stabbed her.” Jason takes a deep breath, “She still had her phone. She called me. I brought her here because it was closest.”
A beat of silence. Still stitching you up, Alfred speaks, “How come we’ve never been introduced?”
Jason shakes his head, “I didn’t want her near any of this. She’s bad off enough sticking with me.”
Once you stabilize, Jason brings you up to his room in the manor. He walks past Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph without looking at them. They sit around the batcomputer, watching Jason gently carry you out ot the cave.
He changes you out of your dirty clothes once he makes a run back to your apartment to grab you some of your own spare clothes.
Asides from that, he doesn’t leave your side.
He lets you have the bed to yourself. He pulls up a chair beside it, waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t want you to be alone when you did, in a strange place after a traumatic event. It was a recipe for disaster.
The sun’s been up for a long while and Jason hasn’t budged. He sits there, your hand gripped in both of his, held up and pressed against his mouth. His lips brush over your knuckles whenever he speaks up. Uttering a “I’m sorry.” every now and then.
There’s a light knock at the door before it’s cracking open. Jason turns his head to find Dick poking his head in. Jason glares at him.
Dick steps further in, presenting the tray he was holding. There were two glasses of water, some solid foods, and lighter ones, probably for you. Jason looked back down at you, letting his older brother enter.
“Just… figured since you’ve been cooped up in here all day,” Dick begins, setting the tray down on the beside table beside Jason.
Dick moves back around. He stands at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall bed post that was meant to hold up a canopy. “I heard…” he trails off, before nodding and your body in the bed, still unconscious, “Who is she?”
Jason looks up at his brother, not letting go of your hand, “So you haven’t heard.”
Dick rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”
Jason raises his brows a little. He looks back down at you. His hand reaches out to brush along your forehead, moving away imaginary stray hairs, “My girl.”
Dick nods in understanding, “How long you two been together.”
Jason pauses in thought, “Over a year. Our anniversary was in December.”
A small, choked sound comes from outside the door, in the hallway. “A year?”
Jason looks up at Dick, who makes a face that shows he’s knows he’s been caught.
“Are they seriously listening right now?”
Steph poked her head in first, an apologetic smile on her face, “We wanted to know!”
Duke pokes his head in next, just above Steph’s, “And we wanted to meet her.”
Tim’s head in next, above Duke’s, “You can’t carry a random bleeding woman into the cave and expect the family of detectives to not be curious.”
Cass’ head appears below Steph’s. She nods in agreement.
Jason let’s one hand go of yours to wave his hand through the air, “What the fuck? She’s not even awake!”
“Well that’s why we sent Dick as bait.”
“For the record,” Dick held up a finger, “They built off of my original, innocent idea of bringing you snacks.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jason stands up, taking a few steps forward. He points them all back towards the door as they start to filter into the room, “Get—“
“What’s going on…?”
Jason’s whole body whipped back around at the sound of your groggy, rough voice. The others watch as he’s back at your side in a millisecond, his whole demeanour changed. “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Remember how I said we were going somewhere new? You thirsty, baby? Here, I got you some water.”
“Oh, you certainly did not get the water,” Dick piped up.
Jason glared back over his shoulder as he held the glass of water for you, keeping the straw Dick had added placed in your mouth.
You stopped drinking, your eyes now on the other people in the room. You turned your head, propped up against pillows Jason had put there for you. You weakly raised your left hand to wave, “Hi… oh?” your gaze turned down to your hand. A heart monitor clip sitting on your finger grabbed your attention. You gave a confused pout at it, “I feel funny.”
Jason set the water aside again. His glare was gone. He leaned in, kissing your forehead, “You’re hopped up on pain meds. That’s why, princess.”
“Damn,” Steph spoke up, “I wish I got the literal princess treatment.”
Jason turned back around, pointing out the door, “Get. Out. Leave my girlfriend alone until she’s better.”
You looked at the strangers, pointing at Jason with your left hand, “I’m his girlfriend.” Your head tilted back against the pillows as you stared up at Jason, pursing your lips, "I’m tired.”
“I know,” Jason said softly. The others began to filter out of the room as he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, this time on the lips.
From the exit, a collective, “Awwww,” sounded out.
“Out!”
Your drugged up voice came after his, once they were all back in the hall, “Nice to meet you!”
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd fic#red hood#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x you#red hood x y/n#jason todd x you#ask missy#cw injury#cw blood#cw knife mention#cw knife#tw knife mention#cw near death experience#tw near death experience#dc fic#dc#red hood x reader#dc x reader
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♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟑 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡
【Synopsis】 : Hongjoong offers to drive you home, not realising it was a one was ticket to having his way with you.
『Word count』 : 1.82k
-> Genre: Smut. Fluff. DBF.
Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader
[Warnings] : Flirting. Making out. Car sex-ish. Thigh fucking. Clit play. Dirty talk. Pet names.
Note: I'm on a roll with this Dilf story. And I know I'm leaving you all hanging again. What can i say? i love to tease you guys. Hehe ♡♡ Also Special tags for @mingis-prince @itza-meee for liking this mini story thingy so much, hehe.
Masterlist | Navigation | Part Two | Part Four | Buy Me A Ko-Fi
The last few days of your trip were nothing but painful. You had woken up the morning of the lust-filled night, to Hongjoong already up and in the kitchen, among the other of your father's friends and some of their kids.
He didn't even look at you, pretending to go on with life like nothing had happened. But once you were inside your room, grabbing your swimmers to join Jongho and his two daughters in a game of pool volleyball, you were cornered by two firm hands gripping your bare waist and whispering, "You shouldn't get dressed so freely when anyone could walk in on you."
And by anyone he meant himself. He wouldn't let you leave that room until he was satisfied enough. Tasting your lips for around twenty minutes. But he never touched you where you needed. It was torturous. Your car was finally packed and ready. Everyone was staying around the front door of the cabin, saying their goodbyes. Your father looked sad but relieved, most likely happy he gets some peace now but sad all his friends were leaving.
"Yeah, but you should join us. Minnie's performance will be around lunchtime in the day, so you can hang around in the morning." Wooyoung was rambling on about his daughter's performance you heard about from her. She was a singer, and she had auditioned to join this label thingy. You didn't pay much attention to the conversation
"I'll show you the new bike," San interjected with a click of his tongue. His husband just rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how San doesn't shut up about that thing. Hongjoong was standing there also. Arms crossed in a tight black compression shirt. His tactical jet black pants and army boots made him look like walking sin. How does he look so hot just by standing?
“we should have a ride one night when you’re free from the kids.” Hongjoong laughed.
“Hey, that’s a great idea. But I’m never free from my kids.” San chuckled, making the rest of them laugh, having known exactly what he meant.
“I’m glad I’m over that stage of parenting.” Your father’s attention was now on you, but you hadn’t caught it. Now that you mention it, you had lost all focus on the conversation the minute Hongjoong spoke about his bike. Just the thought about him in full leather gear, on his slick motorbike. Would he let you go for a ride with him? You’ve never been on one, but you’ve heard they can be iniamite ‘cause as a passenger you’d be flushed against his back, arms tightly around his waist. Holding onto him like a lifeline. God you could feel your face heat up just at the thought. “Peach!”
“Huh?” You snapped out of your thoughts, noticing all your father's friends were looking at you. Including Hongjoong. His smirk told you he knew what you were thinking, but the others were more showing confusion or slight worry at your spaceiness. “I… uh. I’m gonna go. Sorry for spacing I’m just tired.”
You said quickly before even trying to understand what your father might want. He just rolled his eyes, giving you a tight hug. “Are you sure you’re gonna be able to drive, bub? If you're zoning out like that, maybe you should stay longer, a nap?” Your dad started to parent you, listing off things like ‘just stay one more night even, go home tomorrow’. but you needed to go home now…. you couldn’t spend another day without some type of relief.
“I’m okay Dad... I’ll just—I could drive her home.” Hongjoong’s voice lurked behind you. You swore you could feel his body heat against your ass. “I didn’t bring a car. I was planning on catching a cab. But If your girl doesn’t mind. I’ll just drive her car back inner city.”
You finally turned to look at the hunk of a man behind you, he was standing so causally, his hands in his pockets and his sunnies covering his gorgeous eyes. He looked completely relaxed as if him asking was doing you such a favour. Your father's smile was bright, giving his friend a pat on the shoulder, “Sounds perfect. But drive safely. You got precious cargo with you.” Your father laughed making the tatted male chuckle simply.
-
The car ride was stone-cold quiet. Not even the radio playing lowly in the background could shatter the tension that had filled the car the moment Hongjoong started driving. There was still another half hour until you were home, and from the past hour of silence, you knew the time wasn’t about to change the conditions of the awkward car ride. Your heart was racing, and all you wanted to do was say a million different things to ease your brain but at the same time you just wanted Hongjoong to stop somewhere random on the side of the road so you could finally have him. God you were going to go crazy.
“I swear your thoughts are so loud.” Hongjoong chuckled making your head snap in his direction.
“M-My thoughts?”
“Yes, angel. Your thoughts. They are so loud.” He smirked not once diverting his eyes from the road. You squirmed a little bit, now having your attention completely on him and the way he was holding the wheel. Those strong hands, that you wanted more than anything to be on you.
“You have no clue what I’m thinking about.” You crossed your arms turning to look out your window but in truth, it was so you could hide the blush forming on your face.
“Oh, sure I do darling.” his words only caused a ‘uh huh’ out of you along with another huff. It went silent for a moment, making you think you might have said something wrong. But then as soon as you heard Hongjoong’s voice again, it was like all the air was punched out of your lungs. “My cock.”
A whimper escapes your wobbly lips as you feel all your self-control fly out the car window. You turned to him, seeing he was looking straight at you. It was only then you noticed you had come to a red light, giving him a moment to bask in your beautiful figure. The way your body curves and dips, your shorts hugging your thighs tightly. His Adams apple bobs while he bit his lips, he wanted nothing more than to fuck your thighs right now. “Hongjoong…” Your soft whisper slowly pulled him out of the trance he slipped into, letting his hazy eyes meet your cheeky expression and cocked brow. “The light is green.”
A loud honk from behind made him jump, snapping his view to the bright green traffic light in front of him. He pressed his foot on the gas at such power, making the car jolt. You gripped onto your seat belt questioning what on earth had gotten to him but as he turned a few more streets, down a weird pebbled road, you finally took in a large black roller door connected to a huge sky tower. You glanced at the older man with confusion, noting that this wasn’t your place. But his tight grip on the wheel made you shut up before you even let another word out. He leant out the window after coming to a stop. Punching some numbers on a keypad stand, the roller doors slowly opened, letting him drive into the dim parking lot. “Where are we?”
Hongjoong just merely grunted, searching for the nearest empty parking spot amongst rows and rows of high-end, lavish vehicles. Your small little car at nothing on the price of them… He finally pulled into a space, coming to a sharp stop. He unbuckled himself without a second breath, leaning down to grab the lever at the base of his seat so he could push it back. Raking his fingers through his hair he growls with a panted breath, “If you don’t get on my lap right now I might just lose it.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, ripping off your buckle, you climbed over the middle console very unattractively, but you didn’t care. Your lips were on his in a rushed huff, his hands cupping your face tightly. He bit your bottom lip so hard you feared for a moment he’d draw blood. Your legs sat on either side of his thighs, the buckle clip digging into your flesh but you couldn’t care less. Your hips were unsteady and your pace was nothing short of desperate. You needed him so badly. “Hongjoong p-please.”
Again with the begging. You were so good for him in every moment. How did he get so lucky? Your hands reached for his belt, undoing it enough to unzip and shimmy his pants down slightly. His cock was already straining against his boxers, precum leaking onto the silk fabric. Your soft hands pulled him out without another moment not letting him have any say. His mind was screaming at him ‘What happened to doing this by the book, doing right by her.’ He wasn’t about to let your first time be in a fucking small ass car.
“Let me fuck your thighs angel. I promise I’ll fuck my cock in your tight cunt when I have you naked on my bed.” His words caught you off guard making you yelp out a whinny ‘okay’. turning around your head rested on his shoulder as he closed your thighs tightly, letting his cock slip snuggly in between them. God, it felt like heaven. Your soft plump flesh around his cock. He wanted to bust his nut then and there. His thrusts were small and sharp. He was gonna cum sooner than he planned, but he needed you to come with him. “Fuck, play with yourself, baby. Rub your clit for me.”
Your hand disappeared into your shorts, slipping into your panties. Letting you press two fingers firmly on your bud. You rubbed in time of his thrusts, falling into a rhythm of pleasure. You weren't far behind him when his grunts and groans tickled your neck and his tongue licked along your hot flesh. His hands gripped the outer parts of your thighs, holding them tightly together as his hips began to stutter. You both were so close, so close to the edge, you just needed something to tip over and then he whimpered so desperately in your ear. “Please, angel. Your thighs are s-so good. I’m going to cum so fucking hard.”
That did it for both of you, cumming in your pants while he squirted all over your plump thighs. Everything was a mess. Your hair, your legs. Him, completely. All you could hear was his heart racing as you cuddled up to his chest for a moment. He held, you close, kissing lazily on your neck, jaw and shell of your ear, whispering soft compliments along the lines of ‘well done, such a good girl. My best girl’
All you could think about in that moment is that you never want this to end.
—♡
#ateez#ja3hwa#ateez smut#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez reaction#ateez reactions#ateez fanfic#ateez fluff#ateez scenario#ateez fanfiction#ateez x female reader#ateez x reader#ateez x reader smut#ateez fic#atz hongjoong#atz reactions#atz smut#atz fluff#atz drabbles#atz hard hours#atz imagines#atz scenarios#atz x reader#atz fanfic#hongjoong smut#ateez hongjoong#hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong#hongjoong
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Imagine Schlatt being super horny for his heavily pregnant wife after they’d haven’t had sex for awhile…
😮💨😮💨 this ask made me feel things
You always feared pregnancy.
You didn’t mean to it’s just that the idea of being pregnant, all the things that could go wrong, etc. Not to mention the fear of your husband losing attraction for you, but it seemed the opposite for Schlatt.
Instead of feeling no attraction after you got pregnant, during the first few months he went feral. He was all over you 24/7, using it as an excuse to not use condoms at all, whenever you seemed emotional he would give you head and say something about you “needing to relief stress” and more.
Schlatt used any excuse he could come up with so he could to be on and inside you.
It eventually calmed down when you had been around 26 weeks pregnant. Sex that would happen daily had become 3-4 times a week, most of the time schlatt just eating you out or fingering you before leaving to jerk off.
You assumed that his attraction for you was fading, when in reality that was far from the truth.
Schlatt’s attraction to you has only grown since you’ve gotten more pregnant. From seeing you smile and hold his hand at an ultrasound to seeing your tits grow heavier over time.
It honestly scares Schlatt how much he wants you. He doesn’t want to exert you, especially with how tired you’ve been these days, so he’s stuck to cold showers and on really difficult days, jerking off. It’s hard to resist you, especially when he’s eating you out or fingering you and feeling your warmth wrapped around his fingers, tightening up around them as you finish.
He finds you borderline impossible to resist. Especially now, when you’re in a cute sundress you bought a few weeks ago.
It shows your tits and belly off just right, but Schlatt can resist.
When you put down a bowl of fruit and jambo goes running to steal a blueberry, he knocks over your bowl.
“Jambo!” you scold picking up the cat before handing him to Schlatt.
He watches, grabbing the cat as you accidentally push your boobs up against each other causing the neckline to deepen and show more than you intended before returning to normal once you handed jambo over to Schlatt.
Schlatt can resist.
“i gotta go clean up the fruit he dropped” you complain walking over to the kitchen, bending over and picking up the few pieces that fell out.
fuck, your ass looks great
fuck, the soft pout you have on your face
jambo soon jumps off the couch and goes meowing at you, almost apologetically. You coo at him lovingly, picking him up like a baby once the fruit is cleaned up.
fuck
Schlatt’s imagination is going wild, already imagining you with a second and third child. He can’t fucking hold back.
he can’t resist
It’s mere seconds before he’s taking you to the bedroom. Schlatt is placing you down on the bed and hiking your dress up.
“you don’t know how long i’ve been wantin’ to fuck ya” he says taking off your underwear and quickly taking out his cock.
He wastes no time slipping into you, letting out a groan, “fuckkk, doll, you don’t know how much i missed your sweet little pussy”
Those words along the familiar feeling of him inside you, in what feels like forever, has you throwing you head back in pleasure. Your lips parting to let out moans as he thrusts in and out of you harshly, not bothering to hold back.
“fuck. never. gonna. stay. away. from. this. pretty. pussy. again!” Schlatt growled between thrusts
“fuck! c-calm down!” you moan out, holding onto his broad shoulders “i‘m sensitive!” you whine as Schlatt pays no mind to your words, instead rubbing your clit.
“great, then i can feel ya cummin’ ‘round my cock faster”
#schlatt x reader#jschlatt x reader#jschlatt x you#jschlatt x y/n#schlatt x y/n#schlatt x you#jschlatt x reader smut#jschlatt smut#schlatt x reader smut#schlatt smut
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[3.3k] a friendship begins to blossom between you and luke as he begins to feel more settled in new jersey. the jump from college was intense, but he was somewhat glad he had a supportive group around him. and maybe his makeout sessions with you were a great stress relief too. (less smut and more heated makeout)
series masterlist
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cherry🍒: i don’t believe you can cook
cherry🍒: sounds fake tbh
Luke snorted to himself, his lips twitching upwards as he stared at your message. You had sent it at some point during practice, continuing the conversation the two of you had been having the night before.
The irony wasn’t lost on him.
Less than two weeks ago, he was practically dry heaving on the ice at the idea of meeting up with you and now there hadn’t been a day the two of you had gone without talking.
He didn’t even text his brothers this much when they were apart, and now he was practically glued to his phone whenever he got the chance—something Jack loved to point out.
Pre-season training was intense, he expected as much when he entered the NHL. Both his brothers had warned him about it, too. He just hadn’t realised how intense it was going to be, or how big the jump between college to professional hockey would be.
And he didn’t realise how much more he would be eating.
Jack had found it fucking hilarious. He continuously chirped his little brother for always having a snack in his hand. Whether it was in their apartment, on the road or in the locker room, Jack would be the first to laugh, teasing him about being a ‘growing boy’. The rest of the team were a little more sympathetic, but that didn’t stop them from making some jabs themselves.
It meant that Luke had to adapt, meaning he had to learn to cook more meals beyond the three staples that had got him through college when he wasn’t relying on any meal plans. And it meant he was getting pretty fucking good at it too, much to his own surprise.
hockey boy: i cook so well, you’re just jealous
He paused, his shirt still half-hanging around his neck as he saw you typing.
cherry🍒: prove it then
Luke grinned.
hockey boy: i’m about to blow your mind with my steak subs
He felt a rush of anxiety—a good kind, for once—when he saw the bubbles show up on his screen again. He waited, anticipating your response. He had practically forgotten about the fact he was standing in the locker room, half-dressed after practice until he heard someone calling his name.
“Luke!”
His head snapped up, turning to find that most of the boys had already left. There were a few stranglers, still packing up their stuff with no real rush. But it was Nico who had called his name.
“Uh, yeah?”
“You free to talk?” Nico asked, a kind smile on his face like the other boys on the team had always said. It was hard to feel anything but welcomed by the Swiss. “After you’ve changed.”
“Oh,” Luke glanced down at his phone, seeing a notification that you had replied but quickly shoved his phone down on his bag. “Like, right now? Because I kinda had some plans—”
“It will be quick,” the older man assured him.
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat and smiled a little. “Yeah, I’m free.”
Luke moved pretty quickly after that, ignoring his phone as he quickly changed back into the sweatpants and hoodie he had thrown on this morning when Jack had banged on his door at some ungodly, early hour. He shoved most of his things into his bag, trying to act like he felt completely normal and stress-free about a one-on-one conversation with his captain.
He tried to act nonchalant as they made their way to the lounge area where some players crash before or after a practice. Fridges and shelves were stocked with a variety of trainer-approved snacks and protein shakes, it was probably one of Luke’s favourite rooms recently. But now he felt too on edge to even grab one of the lemon muffins he loved.
“Calm down, you aren’t in trouble,” Nico eventually spoke up, settling down on the couch as he looked at Luke expectantly. “I just wanted to talk.”
Luke cleared his throat, settling down on the couch too. “Yeah, so you’ve said.”
Nico’s lips twitched. “How are you finding Jersey?”
“It’s good,” Luke nodded.
Nico raised his brows. “Just good?”
Luke blinked. “...really good?”
“Hm,” Nico hummed, but he sounded amused. “Usually I have trouble shutting Jack up, you’re like the opposite.”
Luke laughed a little. “Jack was always the yapper.”
“He’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about,” Nico added, almost far too casually. He briefly wondered if his captain was waiting for an in to whatever the real reason behind this conversation was.
“Yeah?”
“You know I’m your captain too, right?” Nico asked, and this time he sounded a lot more serious than he did thirty seconds ago. It was how he sounded on the ice, how he sounded on the bench during playoffs last year. He hadn’t seen much of this side of Nico, but he recognised it well.
Luke frowned. “Is this a trick question?”
“No, I—” Nico paused, shaking his head. “I just want you to know that I see you as one of my boys. Not just Jack’s little brother. When I played with my brother, I know sometimes it feels like you’re just…there. In his shadow, sometimes. I just don’t want you to feel like that here.”
Luke relaxed a little. “I don’t—”
“But you’d tell me if you ever did, yeah? I’m your captain too. I want you to know I’m there if you need me, as a captain or a friend.” Nico had a sincere but serious expression on his face, and a small part of it reminded him of Quinn. That warmth and comfort that came from someone a little older, a little more sure of themselves—a true captain.
“I know,” he promised the older boy with a nod.
“Good,” Nico said before his face broke out into a smile. “Do you need a lift home? I told Jack he could go and I could drive you back—”
“No!” Luke blurted out before blinking, seeing Nico’s slightly surprised face at his outburst. “I, uh, meant that I didn’t need a lift. I was just going to get an Uber.”
Nico’s brows furrowed together. “There’s no need, I can drive you back. I know where—”
“No, I just,” he paused, feeling his cheeks heat up in response. “I’m heading to a friend’s house. Not going home. So.”
“I see,” Nico murmured, and there was something shining in his eyes that Luke didn’t fully understand. He wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. “I can drive you to your…friend’s house, if you want.”
And let you watch him get dropped off by his captain? Yeah, he would rather not.
“I’m fine with an Uber, but thanks,” Luke said with a slightly strained smile, only hoping he didn’t look as guilty as he felt. He didn’t even know why his whole body felt on edge, he knew he was doing nothing wrong.
But something about the way Nico was staring made him feel like he could see right through him, through everything.
He was almost convinced his captain knew exactly where he was going and why, and that was something Luke didn’t want to think about.
…
“Back off!”
“But I’m hungry!”
“There’s gonna be nothing left if you keep eating everything.”
“But it’s taking so long.”
Luke shot you an exasperated look, though he didn’t bother to hide his smile as you slumped against the counter beside him. “It’s only been forty minutes.”
“I was hungry before you got here,” you defended with a huff.
“And you’ve practically eaten all the cheese I was gonna use,” he retorted.
You crossed your arms over your chest. He tried to ignore how endearing he found the act.
“C’mon, give me five more minutes and your food will be done,” Luke tried again, and he managed to finally crack a small smile from you.
“This better be worth it, Hughes. This is my first meal of the day.”
“I—” Luke frowned a little. “Yeah, we’ll dive into that later.”
You raised your brows, something like amusement painted across your face. “Worried about me, Hughes?”
“At the fact it’s one o’clock and you haven’t eaten a single thing?” Luke pointed out. “Yeah, actually, I am. And I think that is a justified reason.”
You waved him off. “I had coffee.”
His lips parted. “That’s not—”
“Cook for me, Hughes,” you interrupted, a grin stretched across your face as you playfully slapped his ass. “You said you would prove yourself.”
Luke’s cheeks flushed. “You’re bossy.”
“And you like it.”
He didn’t disagree.
…
“Stop looking so smug.”
Luke glanced over at you. “I never said anything.”
“But you have a smug smile on your face.”
“I don’t.” He definitely did. “But I am waiting for you to admit I was right.”
“Fine. You’re a good cook or whatever.”
Luke beamed in response.
He was never an overly confident or arrogant guy, not even on the ice. He knew when he played well, he knew when he made people eat their doubts that the youngest Hughes brother wasn’t as good as the other two. He was never the kind to go fishing for compliments or praise either.
But there was something admittedly satisfying when he got to see that expression on someone’s face, the one they got when he proved them wrong.
Whether it was something as big as proving his high school coach that he was good enough to make it into one of the best college’s hockey team, or as small as proving to you he was a damn good cook, and he made a damn good steak sub.
He didn’t like asking for compliments, but it was nice to receive them. To have that reassurance. To know that maybe he wasn’t as hopeless as he sometimes felt in his own body.
You raised your brows. “What? No cocky follow up?”
Luke shrugged, leaning back into the plush cushions of your couch. The plates and the rest of the dirty dishes had been shoved in the dishwasher, some random old sitcom was playing on the tv and the two of you were sprawled on your couch with your feet on his lap. Not that he was complaining.
It was sweet. Relaxing. Domestic.
Almost like you two were just friends hanging out.
“Not really my thing,” Luke admitted. “You said I was right. That’s enough.”
You tilted your head in interest. “That’s enough?”
He missed the heat in your words, the shift in tone in your voice. His eyes were aimlessly focused on the tv, trying to work out what was going on after he zoned out for a few moments. He missed the way your eyes dragged over his body, lingering on the way his shirt stretched over his shoulders and clung onto his arms.
“Yeah,” he nodded absentmindedly. “Jack is the one who would—oh.”
You grinned at the way he fell silent, as he blinked in surprise at the way you planted yourself in his lap.
“I—” Luke cleared his throat, no further words coming out as you placed your hands on his chest.
“Just wanted to say thank you,” you told him, your eyes following the way you ran your hands over the expanse of his chest, the way his heart thundered under your touch before your fingers traced along his neck. “For cooking for me.”
“Right,” Luke said, swallowing a little.
“Can I say thank you, Luke?”
He nodded.
“Words, baby.”
“Yes,” he rasped, his wide eyes staring up at you. “Please.”
“So polite,” you teased before you leaned down, your fingers fisting the material of his shirt in your hands as you pressed your lips together.
It took Luke a few seconds before he eased into the kiss, into letting you take control as your tongue swiped over his bottom lip. He sunk further into the couch, his hands hesitating a few moments before they rested comfortably on your waist, just like they always did.
And you waited.
You waited for them to move as you deepened the kiss, as your tongue explored his mouth. You waited as your hands ran up and down his chest, feeling the way his body shivered under your touch, at the way your nails lightly raked down his stomach. You waited as you felt his hands squeeze your waist, like he was finally giving in.
But his hands remained where they were.
“Luke,” you murmured, a little breathlessly between kisses. “Move.”
He paused, pulling back as he looked up at you with a confused expression. “What? Like, from the couch?”
You couldn’t help yourself as you snorted. “No, I meant your hands.”
“My hands?” He repeated dumbly.
Your smile softened a little as you reached for his hands, squeezing his wrists tightly. “Your hands are your friends,” you told him, biting back your laugh when you noticed his confusion grow. “There’s more to making out with a girl than kissing her.”
“Right,” he cleared his throat a little. “I knew that.”
“You like it when I touch you, right?”
He nodded.
“So, do the same,” you told him, squeezing his wrists again.
Luke blinked, swallowing hard. “I—”
He quickly closed his mouth, his cheeks flushing as a familiar feeling of embarrassment washed over him. He looked a bit hopeless, and it tugged on your heart strings a little to see him so hesitant.
“You can ask me anything, Luke,” you reminded him, your tone soft and void of anything remotely mocking like he almost expected. “I won’t judge.”
His eyes flickered back to your face. “Where…do I touch you?”
You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “You want me to show you where I liked to be touched, baby?”
He nodded, his face flushing a deeper shade of red.
You never tore your eyes away from his face as you placed your hands over his, trying not to focus on how much bigger they felt than your own. You watched the way his brows furrowed, like he was trying to concentrate as you guided his hands along your waist until they dipped down to cup your ass.
He swallowed. “Is this okay?”
“So okay,” you told him before you leaned down to kiss him again. His hands remained still on your ass and it made you smile against his lips as you prompted him, as you let his hands experimentally squeeze your ass. “Girls like this.”
“O-Okay,” he breathed out.
“Feels nice when you wanna take a bit more control,” you told him, lightly nipping his bottom lip as he let out a choked noise of surprise. “Control the pace.”
“Mhm,” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to guide his hands over your body again.
“Sometimes a girl just wants a little more when you’re making out,” you continued to whisper between kisses, taking his hands to the hem of your shirt. You felt him freeze a little beneath you as you guided him under the material of your shirt and softly squeezed his hands in reassurance. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“Just wanna make you feel good too,” Luke murmured, a little bashful in his admission as his fingers skimmed over the skin of your stomach.
Something inside you twisted, in a good way.
“You’re making me feel good, Luke,” you told him, your lips grazing his as you spoke, as you continued to move his hands further up your body. “Just doing exactly what I tell you. Such a good boy, such a fast learner.”
“Shit,” he breathed out as you rested his hands over your tits. He paused for a moment before giving them an experimental squeeze, finding the smile you gave him in response much more rewarding than anything else.
“That’s it, baby, just gotta be a little more confident,” you murmured before you dipped your head down, finally pressing your lips against his again.
And yeah, it was a little awkward at first when you dropped your hands from his. You were kissing him, your tongue swiping against his and his hands were just lingering on your tits like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.
But then you rolled your hips against his, snapping him out of whatever brain fog he was lost in and he decided to just let himself sink into it. To just let his instincts take over. To trust the fact you would help him if he was doing something wrong.
And, fuck, Luke thought he might have to listen to his instincts more often if these were the results he got.
One of his hands slipped back down to your waist, to keep you on his lap as the other squeezed your tit over the fabric of your bra. You keened under the touch, almost panting against his lips between kisses as you gripped his shoulders. And then his other hand moved lower, moved to cup your ass and squeeze until he was helping you rock against him.
Your nails dug into his skin, but the pain was dull and desirable. It showed him that you were enjoying this, that you were enjoying the way he pawed at your tits and squeezed your ass. It showed him that maybe he did just need some confidence, to just trust that sometimes he would just instinctively know what to do.
His head dipped a little as your pants became heavier and the kiss was harder to continue. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, experimentally mouthing along your skin until he found a spot at the base of your neck that made you shiver under his touch.
He slowly ran his tongue along the spot, smiling a little when your fingers moved to grip his curls and tug a little. His teeth grazed the spot, a small voice in the back of his head wanting nothing more than for him to wrap his lips around the spot and suck until—
RING! RING! RING!
Both of you jumped at the shrill of the phone echoing through the room, both of his hands dropping to your waist to hold you tightly before you fell on your ass. His eyes snapped over to where his phone sat on the coffee table and groaned when he realised who was calling him.
“For fuck’s sake,” Luke grumbled, eyes narrowed on his phone as he watched Jack’s call ring on until it stopped.
“For someone who was desperate to get you laid, he sure knows how to ruin a moment,” you commented, though your voice was amused and lighthearted.
“I told him I’d be back later,” Luke huffed out. “I don’t know why—”
He was cut off by his phone buzzing again. And then again. And then again. He sighed deeply as he reached over, not moving you off his lap—and you made no move to slide off either, so he wasn’t complaining. He swiped, unlocking his phone as his brother’s messages came through.
jack attack: yo how did the thing with nico go?
jack attack: also idc what you said, we are having a birthday party for you and the boys agreed
jack attack: bring your lady friend ;)
Luke groaned a little, rolling his eyes and locking his phone instead of replying.
“Not a fan of parties?”
“Not a fan of Jack’s parties—especially ones that are three weeks after my actual birthday,” Luke corrected, his lips twitching downwards as his hands rested casually on your waist. “He tends to be a little…”
“Much?” You supplied.
“Yeah,” Luke snorted. “He also said he wanted me to invite you.”
You raised your brows. “Do you want me there?”
He raised his brows in response. “Do you want to come?”
“I’ll never say no to a party,” you said with a smile that was anything but innocent, leaning down until your lips were brushing his. “Plus, it’s your birthday. I think you deserve a little treat.”
Luke gulped a little. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you grinned before kissing him, whilst his whole body flushed at the implications of your words.
jack attack: i know you read my texts
jack attack: stop fucking and reply, asshole!!
.
#luke hughes#nhl#new jersey devils#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x you#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes fic#luke hughes one shot#luke hughes smut#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot#nhl smut
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Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!
under the moonlight
fic about the ball
pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader
a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)
wc: 2.5k
warning(s): basically all fluff
as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!
ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight
and thankfully, that all goes okay.
You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals.
All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect.
But post-ball is rough on both of you.
You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much.
To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs.
You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”
“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”
A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”
“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses.
You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”
(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again)
You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed.
“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”
“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.
“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”
“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you.
You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat.
“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”
“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”
And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head.
(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck)
It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?
but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao
and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted
(spoiler alert: it will not go away.)
so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down.
“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?”
He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.”
“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well.
You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.”
“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered.
You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.”
That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?”
“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.”
He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.”
“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”
“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.”
“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.”
“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.”
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.”
He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand.
“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”
“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked.
It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped.
“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again.
Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.”
“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.”
You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?”
His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded.
“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.”
Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp.
yeah girlie I wonder why
Luke is. not a great dancer
You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol
He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol
And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way.
“How do you do this? It’s impossible.”
“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.”
as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao
And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together.
Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it.
You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda.
Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him.
“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand.
“Trust me.”
And he does, somehow.
You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy.
“And lift!”
Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him.
Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him.
“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?”
“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?”
Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.”
Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose.
“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.”
You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.”
A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.”
“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.”
“It truly is.”
You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you.
You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence.
“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said.
You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.”
When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?”
“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.”
“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.”
“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.”
“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.”
“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.”
The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so.
“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.”
You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach.
Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room.
“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.”
You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything.
“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.”
You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins.
“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.”
You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester.
“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.”
“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?”
“Certainly.”
“And you are my knight.”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed.
Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes.
“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…”
His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile.
“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.”
“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly.
And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him.
#IF I EVER DO NOT DO THE “IT'S BEAUTIFUL” “YEAH IT IS” *LOOKING AT THEM* TROPE THEN I AM DEAD I AM DEADDDD DO YOU HEAR ME#posting at midnight because i once again have no self control#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan fic#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan headcanon#luke castellan au#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#pjo x reader#x reader#knight!luke#sadie writes
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in which jake has no idea what to get his little sister ( he left it last minute ) and you're the sephora worker who got stuck with the last shift before the holidays ୨୧
tw. swearing, stranger!jake has a younger sister au, christmas mentions, yn is sooo embarrasing wc. 958
out of all the ways you’d planned to spend your friday evening before the holidays, working was not one of them. but eunchae had begged you to cover for her, and she covered your shift before thanksgiving.
you glance at your watch. only 30 minutes before closing, which means you should be able to just scroll on your phone in the back. no customers ever come in–
the click of the glass door interrupts your relief.
your first thought, of course, is fuck. who goes to a sephora 30 minutes before it closes? do they have any human decency? and your second thought is, fuck.
the guy who walks into the store looks to be in his 20s, with soft brown hair that frames his face, adorable eyes, and pink pouty lips.
he looks around, sweeping his hand through his hair–his hand is so hot–before his eyes land on you.
you’re too busy contemplating whether or not you just felt attraction to a stranger’s hand to answer him the first time, only snapping out of your thoughts when he walks closer.
“oh, um, sorry, welcome to sephora, what- i was- your hand- i mean, what were you saying?”
his eyebrows cinch briefly in confusion, but he shakes it off (thank god), “hi.” he has the most attractive australian accent you’ve ever heard. “um, i was, like, wondering if you could recommend me a gift for my little sister? i- well,” he laughs sheepishly, and you almost fall onto the ground, “i haven’t gotten her a gift yet,”
“oh! um,” you pause, still trying to focus, but he must take your silence as a bad thing.
“yeah, i feel awful, but i’m just really busy- you must think i’m a horrible brother, i mean- sorry, you don’t care.”
“no, nonono, i do c- i mean, um, yeah, i can- uh, help you..find..a gift.” your voice trails off into silence at the end of your sentence.
he either doesn’t notice the weirdness or chooses to ignore it, his eyes lighting up. “that’s so great! thank you, so much.”
“ok, um,” you start trying to think of a gift for his younger sister and then realize you’re an idiot. “oh, i kind of- uh, sorry, how old is she?” it took you 20 seconds to ask how old the person you’re recommending a gift for is.
“oh!” he laughs, “sorry,”
“no problem,” you’ve never answered anyone so fast in your entire life.
“she’s 16.”
you blink, because that seems really young for how he looks and is he younger than 20 what the fuck, but then he sees your expression.
“5 years apart.”
“oh, no, i didn’t- you didn’t have to- sorry, um, what kinds of things are you looking for, for her? like, makeup, or perfume, or ma- something else?” you literally almost said makeup twice.
“um,” he laughs, “i’m not really sure. i just know that whenever she comes back from the mall she has a sephora bag every time, so i came here in a panic.”
“ok, well is there anything specific you’d like to get her?”
he hesitates again, “sorry…is there anything you’d, like, recommend? what you’re wearing is kind of pretty- i mean, sorry, i didn’t- mean to say that-”
you breathe out a shocked laugh. “well, i’m not sure if a 16 year old would like any of the things i’m wearing, but maybe the glitter eyeshadow, or, like, the lip gloss.”
“um,” he trails off, “sure.”
“ok! do you want to come look at them, or should i just get the same ones?” your only reflex now is to ramble, in fear of him realizing how flustered he’s made you (although you’re sure he already has).
“just the same ones is fine,”
“ok, wait right here then.”
your heart is beating out of your chest as you grab the items, he called you pretty–him, the prettiest person you’ve ever seen in your life–well, technically he called what you’re wearing pretty, and he only said ‘kind of,’ and you should really calm down. except your heart doesn’t seem to agree.
you arrive back at the desk, pulling a sephora bag from underneath the counter.
“oh, sorry, do you want me to wrap this for you?”
“no, that’s fine, i usually wrap things myself, like, as a tradit-i mean, sorry, you don’t care.”
that’s the cutest thing ever.
he laughs, “really?”
you almost trip over the desk because there’s no fucking way you just said that out loud.
“um,” you look away, the pitch of your voice raising, “your total is 2700 dollars.”
he blinks. “two- two thousand-”
“i mean! i’m so sorry, i meant, 27 dollars…and 95 cents…” you turn away in embarrassment, and he laughs.
his laugh. his laugh is the prettiest sound, lighting up your heart even though you’re so ashamed you can’t even look over.
“sorry, i’m not- i’m not laughing at you.”
you turn back to glare at him. “yes you are.”
he grins, and you almost fall backwards again at how pretty he is.
he pulls out his wallet, and is that a black card?
“ok,” you hand him the bag, “thanks for shopping with sephora, and i hope you enjoy your holidays.”
he grabs the handle, his fingertips brushing your wrist, and you drop the bag, his hand jerking to catch it.
“s-sorry.”
“no problem,” he looks at your nametag, “y/n.”
he looks back up at you, grinning, “my sister will love these.”
“yeah?”
“yeah. i’ll tell her all about the pretty girl who chose them for me, who thinks i’m cute.”
you glitch, you actually glitch for a second, can’t move or think or anything, and then he’s gone, the door shutting.
your phone chimes with a text from eunchae.
thanks sosososso much for covering my shift im rlly sry, merry christmas
merry fucking christmas indeed.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
part of winters of us, an advent calendar : day 006
comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist !
enhypen tl @cutesiepatootsie @sammm5225
#❄️ — winters of us.#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#jake x reader#jake x you#jake sim#jake imagines#enhypen jake#jake sim x you#jake sim fluff#jake sim x reader#jake sim imagines#jake fluff#sim jake x reader#sim jaeyun x reader#sim jaeyun#enhypen#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff
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Camera Ready ✧･ﾟ: Finnick Odair x reader
Summary: Neither of you really care if anyone sees.
Warning: exhibitism, voyeurism, p n v, riding, they fuck in the arena while it’s being televised, spit kink, size kink, creampie, switch ! Finnick, switch! Reader
⭒
“You know you could walk a little slower, sweetness. ”
Finnick’s voice blares out teasingly into the morning air as he trails behind you. Your hair sticks to your forehead in sweaty strands, your body on high alert as you make sure to scope out any remaining candidates that aren’t on your side. Which isn’t much, considering you have Katniss and the others, but it’s still a good idea to be cautious. To your relief you had found Finnick in the woods last night. And as much of a victor as you are, the dark makes you nervous. So he had allowed you to sleep beside him, curled up with his arms wrapped around you. It wasn’t intentional, of course, but when he sleeps it seems that he tends to get handsy. And when the warmth of his body was beside you, you couldn’t resist letting him throw you into his embrace.
“Maybe you could walk a little faster, pretty boy.”
He chuckles at the nickname, his pace finally catching up with you so you can see the cocky smile on his face.
“You think I’m pretty?”
Your friendship is like this, a lot. Flirtation, playful banter, and a few hook ups every now and then since the two of you met at a capital event one year. And now, even when you’re supposed to be enemies, you’re working together. It’s just a connection, an order that makes you both flow freely with each other and get the things you desire.
You ignore the way Finnick’s hands ignite flames on your skin and the way his smile makes your heart flourish. You also ignore the way you feel the constant need to protect him and keep him alive. In this game, you can’t have anything serious.
“Mm..” you reply. “Sometimes.”
Your hands wrap around his neck as you pull him to you. He smiles, that pretty crooked smile, and presses a kiss to your temple.
And then, you hear a snap.
You and Finnick are both on high alert then, and turning around you’re both faced with a victor. Not an ally, it seems, as she’s pointing a knife at the both of you.
It doesn’t take long before she’s dead, but it’s still a bother to you. You don’t like murdering these people, and you’ve never liked the whole idea or subject of the hunger games. The first time you had won, but at what cost when they’ve sent you right back in?
It’s kill or be killed. And as the woman’s blood splatters on your face, you sense that familiar feeling of rage from the first time you killed creeping back into your psyche. That rage that loathes the capital, loathes those stupid fucking districts as they fall into the ground. And your knife doesn’t stop the assault on her as you make sure she’s dead. It’s better, this way, to overdo it so they don’t have to suffer. Finnick is surprised at your strength and skill, he always has been, but he finds it best not to bring it to attention.
As you two walk away, the woods begins to clear. And then you both watch as you see the Arena come into view, dark and blood soaked.
“Great,” you mutter. “More to show the people.”
It’s obvious that everything is being recorded, but this is the most clear spot. As you sit down on one of the rock formations, your lean back to watch the clouds and the orange sunset. Finnick sits beside you, his neck and chest splattered with blood. And after a moment, you begin to speak.
“I don’t like doing this.” You state. “It’s all bullshit. It’s psychotic.”
Finnick nods in agreement, his jaw clenched as he watches the stains on your shirt.
“We should give them a show.” He says. “Do something that we know they can’t get away from.”
And that’s when you get the idea.
You look at him, a mere glance. You’re both probably sweaty and disgusting, but even now Finnick looks absolutely god like. You know he’s chiseled, under that gray suit. And you know what big thing lies underneath the crotch of his underwear.
You smile, your hand coming to rest gently on his muscled thigh. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, as he watches your palm begin to move up more.
“What are you doing?” He asks. He doesn’t seem completely against the idea, though. Because then that cocky smirk you know so good and well is plastered onto his face, his hands finding there way to the exposed skin of your shoulder. He leans over and kisses your collarbone, gently. You huff, your lips moving to graze the spot below his ear.
“If they want them a show, let’s give them a show.”
Seeming to be on the same page, Finnick crashes his lips into yours in a bruising kiss.
Meanwhile, at the capital, the monitors in the room begin to awkwardly watch as you push Finnick down onto the rocky arm. His back hits the floor with a grunt, and then he’s watching as you sit up and unzip the back of your suit. He groans when your tits are revealed to them, full and sitting in all their glory. He brings his hands up and gropes one in his hand, feels the soft skin and your pert nipples being brought to attention. You tut when he tries to move his fingers down to your pussy.
“No, Finn.” You coo. Your nails scratch his addam’s apple, and he flushes as you begin to climb on top of him. “No touching there until I say.”
He groans when you press down against his growing bulge.
“You know if we don’t hurry we could die, right?” He huffs.
“I don’t want to hear excuses, baby. We both know fucking me again is the last thing you want to do before you go.”
He can’t deny that, and as you demand that he lift himself up and unzip his suit down to his thighs, he follows your directions with desperation. You watch as you pull his briefs down below his balls, watch as his girthy length springs to full attention. He moans when your hand connects to his skin, and begins to jerk him off with vigor. You can feel a tension in the air, the feeling of being watched extremely prominent. And it shouldn’t get you so wet, but it does. So you bring yourself to eye level with Finnick’s cock, and spit down on him, quick to shove his tip into the warm confines of your mouth. He makes a deep sound in his throat, and you move away teasingly when his hips try and move his cock farther into your throat.
“C’mon, sugar.” He says, overwhelmed. “Don’t be mean.”
“Why don’t you just shut up and do what I say, Odair?” You demand. You slap his cock, and he groans, legs beginning to tremble at the pain and pleasure mixing. “Besides, I’m not letting you use my mouth right now. I just needed to get you wet.”
He whines in protest when you pull away from him. But then you’re pushing your suit down, past your calfs and onto the ground.
So help you, if you’re going to die it’s going to be like this.
When your pussy is revealed to him, Finnick’s cock jumps and he sits up to guide you to his lap. He’s warm, his cock drooling and messy. You don’t hesitate to rub his tip against your clit, your thighs holding his lean body down.
“Please, y/n, fuck!” Finnick stutters, the feeling of your wet silky cunt making him go crazy.
You smile as you finally guide him to your entrance, and sink down. His cock fills you up to impossible levels, his balls pressed flush against you when he finally bottoms out. His hands go to your waist, and when you bounce on him, his eyes roll back and he cries out like a bitch in heat.
“Jesus Christ.. you feel so fuckin’ good, angel. Love your pussy so much.”
“I know, sweet boy.” You moan when he grazes a soft spot inside you. “It f-feels good, doesn’t it? My little pussy feel good around that big cock?”
“God, yes. Cmon, ride me harder, momma. I know you can.”
And when you begin to fuck him faster, he brings his hands down to your ass, and begins bucking up into you with a feral pace. Your arousal makes him keen, makes his brain turn to mush the moment your scent hits him. You look so beautiful, so flushed and perfect, and something snaps inside of Finnick, then. His fingers spread your cheeks apart, and his voice is raw.
“Bet you like this, huh? The whole capital watching you get fuckin’ destroyed by my big cock? Hm?”
You gasp at his words, your fingers clawing at his chest.
“Finn, baby, fuck!”
“You love it, don’t you?”
No reply. Finnick slaps your ass harshly, and you yelp at the sting. His hands grab your throat in a harsh grip.
“Answer me!” He demands. You cry out, trying to nod the best you can, and then uttering out a “Yes! Yes sir!” As his large hands cut off your air supply.
“That’s my fuckin girl.” He replies. His fingers rub your clit, leaving your throat as you gasp for air and your orgasm washes over you. Your pussy gushes all over him, soaking his cock and balls and the rock below the both of you, and without warning Finnick is grabbing your hips with his large hands and turning you over so you’re beneath him. It’s quick, and you’re incredibly surprised. You wrap your legs around him as he begins to pummel you, now with more leverage and strength, and his cock feels like it’s destroying you from the inside out. You don’t complain, though. And when Finnick’s hips begin stuttering, you know he’s about to cum.
“C’mon, baby, cum inside me, cum in my pussy!”
Your words spur him on, makes him leave bruising marks on your wrists as he holds them above your head and begins to cum in thick, messy ropes. Your walls practically milk him of everything he’s got, and when he’s done you can feel the stickiness of his seed dripping off his cock and onto your thighs.
He buries his face in your neck, then. And with a small laugh, he pulls himself out and begins to lick his cum out of you. Your middle finger comes up into the air as he does it. A sign, as the victor from district 4 eats your pussy. A big ‘fuck you’ to the capital.
The cameramen and people at home watch in shock and awe. There’s a debate of whether or not they should turn it off, and after a while everyone becomes too distracted by the images on screen to worry about it. The next day, none of the other tributes look at you both the same.
Because at that time, they had been watching, too.
@emsbookcase
#finnick odair#Finnick Odair x reader#Finnick Odair x fem! reader#Finnick Odair smut#switch! Finnick Odair#sub! Finnick Odair#dom! Finnick Odair#switch! reader#sub! reader#dom! reader#the hunger games#the hunger games catching fire#the hunger games mockingjay pt1#the hunger games mockingjay pt2#the hunger games fanfiction
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wish you were sober! pt. 1
“kinda hope you're followin' me out, but this is definitely not my crowd.”
chris sturniolo x fem! reader.
synopsis: when reader is overwhelmed at a party & finds herself in unlikely company. (no fame au.)
warnings: none!
“i’m just going to do another shot!” one of your friends yells in your ear, trying to overpower the music thudding in the background. two other join her, linked arms, as they make their way to the kitchen. you wonder who’s house this even is, as you hadn’t been invited directly, only dragged along as a plus one.
you are now left with two of your friends, who both look at you with raised brows. the thick summer air only gets worse as you feel like you’re being closed in on.
“aren’t you going to do shots? you’ve barely drank anything tonight.” one asks, tilting her head.
“i really don’t feel great.” you confess, your face screwing up in bitterness. your stomach ached, as well as what felt like your brain thrashing around in your skull, clawing at the inside.
“maybe try making yourself vomit? sometimes that helps.” the other suggests, trying her best to be accomodating in her drunken state, while clutching onto your arm for stability. it wasn’t a terrible idea, as you did feel like you were going to throw your guts up at any given moment. but also, it was a good excuse to disappear into the bathroom for a few minuets undisturbed.
“i might try that, thanks.” you force a smile, before quickly slithering out of their grip, and making a bee-line for the stairs which in that moment seemed like the stairs leading to heaven. peace and quiet.
you jog up the stairs, while trying to hold down your skirt so you don’t unintentionally flash your ex-classmates. the hot air seemed to be worse upstairs, and you knew it all too well from living in a two storey home your entire life. heat rises. why on earth did your foggy brain think it would be cooler up here?
you manage to find the bathroom, sighing in relief when you found it empty. you closed the door hurriedly behind you, and make your way to the sink. you run the cold water under your hands, splashing it on your flushed face. your mascara had started to smudge under your eyes from the heat, and your lipgloss had completely melted off. real classy. as you begin to wipe your fingers under your eyes, a knock on the door startles you.
“yeah?” you call, not hiding your frustration.
“can i come in?” the voice asks.
you sigh, throwing your head back. so much for peace and quiet. you throw open the door, shocked at who you find behind it. chris sturniolo. you knew him and his brothers didn’t go to parties, not even in high school. you wonder who or what dragged them to this one. he was a year older than you, but you were well aware of who he was. the star player on the lacrosse team.
“you mind if i chill in here for a bit?” he asks nonchalantly.
you’re now confronted with the option of being a douchebag and saying no, or saying yes and then trying to weasel your way out. you scan his face, the bags under his eyes, the muss of his hair from the heat. he looked exhausted, you imagine that’s how you looked, too.
“yeah, sure.” you shrug, opening the door wider for him to come in.
he immediately makes himself at home, hoisting himself to sit up on the bench beside the sink. you take in what he’s wearing, a black singlet and cargo shorts with ugg boots. definitely a choice.
“did i walk in on something or…like you weren’t crying or anything?” he asks, widening his eyes at you and freezing in place.
“oh! no, no not at all.” you smile awkwardly, shuffling on your feet.
“right, you just uh, look…” he trails off, waving his finger at you.
“terrible?” you answer with a defeated laugh.
he laughs. “yeah.”
you find yourself smiling a little, too. “i feel terrible.”
“me fucking too.” he sighs, leaning his head back onto the mirror and kicking his uggs off. you envied his confidence.
“so, what brings you to the bathroom chris sturniolo?” you ask as you put the toilet seat down to give yourself a surface to sit on.
he gives you a funny look, pouting his lip and raising an eyebrow. “how do you know who i am?”
“you were only the star lacrosse player of southeast high!” you taunt, holding a hand to your heart and mocking the many fan girls he had at his beck and call.
he tsks and rolls his eyes, “nah, matt was always miles better than me.”
“he was.” you lie, a smirk creeping up on your lips.
chris chuckles, shaking his head. “anyway, to answer your question, i’m trying to escape my very drunk and gross friends, one of them vomited on my shoe, look!”
he points to his discarded ugg boot, which you now see has a splatter of dark liquid on it, and you find yourself feeling sick. “fuck that’s gross.”
“i know right! but i’ve had enough anyway, i want to go home but matt’s driving and he’s not ready to go yet, neither is nick. at least they’re having fun.”
“and you don’t drink?” you ask, crossing your legs criss cross applesauce style.
“nah, me and my brothers are sober. just don’t really see the point in drinking. got nothing against it, just not my thing.”
“you know, don’t take this the wrong way but, i honestly pictured you as the frat boy type.”
“ha, i’m far from it.” he laughs, “but that’s what all the lacrosse boys were like. it was painful having to put up with it.”
“i can imagine.” you tell him.
there’s a lick of silence, and the bathroom was beginning to get stuffy- despite the window being open and letting a small breath of air through every now and then. you see chris wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, puffing out a breath. “it’s so fucking hot i think i’m going to die.”
you found yourself in a daze, looking at him now, really looking at him. he was cute as hell, how had you never noticed? the way his hair hung just over his forehead, how his arms were softly toned…
“hey, i never got your name. that was rude of me.” he says, turning to you.
you tell him, and he nods his head. “you look like that’s your name.”
“what?”
“you know how some people look like their names? i feel like i don’t look like a chris.” he elaborated, waving his hands around to emphasise his point.
“yeah, maybe a chad.” you chuckle.
“if i was a chad, i’d have already kissed you.” chris tells you, not looking at you, more like he was talking to himself. speaking into the abyss.
you widen your eyes, “what?”
chris kicks his feet back and forth, hitting the cabinets below. “nothing.”
there’s a pause, the only sound you could hear was your breathing, surrounding you, suffocating. you decide to be bold. i mean, what was there to loose, anyway? you couldn’t just sulk alone all night.
“i mean, i wouldnt say no.” you confess, avoiding eye contact, looking down at his vomit splayed ugg boot, discarded on the tiles. although, you could feel his eyes on you.
“to what?” he says, more confidently.
“if…” you begin, now looking up at him and loosing your train of thought.
“i kissed you?”
you freeze, blinking a few times to check you weren’t hallucinating and that your drink hadn’t been spiked. after a few breaths, you realised he wasn’t going anywhere, and that he was right there. only a few steps away. yet you couldn’t find your feet, we’re you supposed to make the first move?
before you could continue the battle in your brain, chris had slid back down to his feet, his hands bracing on the bench behind him, arms flexed. he tilted his head at you, almost like a puppy, waiting. he was waiting for you.
you stand up, and slowly, ever so slowly, make your way towards him. you bite your lip, your breath quickening and heart thumping in your chest like it would pounce onto him if it could. how had your night turned so quickly? weren’t you downstairs wishing you were anywhere else only 20 minuets ago?
chris reached his hand out to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, licking his lips. “you’re so pretty.”
you blush hard, looking down at your feet. “even with my smudged mascara?”
“yeah.” he chuckles, reaching for your hand to pull you closer to him.
you were now face to face, your eyes in line with his lips. you felt like your heart was about to fall out of your ass, with the way he was looking at you. not greedy, not like other boys did- if they did. it was sweet, like he was really looking at you, his mellow blue eyes scanning your face and landing on your lips.
he slid a hand behind your ear, leaning into you. you leaned in, too, unsure of what you were supposed to do. you had only ever kissed one boy, and it was in eighth grade as a dare during a game of spin the bottle. this time was different. it wasn’t a game, and nobody was watching.
chris kissed you gently, only testing the waters. it was only chaste, but you felt yourself ascend into another dimension. his lips were soft, and he was so warm. you feel something deep your belly, swirling around. your cheeks begin to flush a little more than they already were, your headache now a distant memory. he pulled away as soon as it happened, as if he had been snapped back into reality.
“sorry, i don’t um…usually do this. i feel like such a douche.”
“you’re far from a douche.” you reassure him, placing a hand on his forearm.
his hand that rested behind your ear was now playing with a coil of your hair. “i mean you were just so pretty, and i didn’t know how to-“
suddenly, you feel yourself swarmed with pride, beginning to smile. “chris! did you follow me up here?”
“um, no?” he says, as his eyes dart around the room comedically as a toothy grin adorns his face.
“you don’t seem so sure.” you tease.
he laughs, shrugging. “what can i say, it worked.”
you find yourself overcome with a feeling you didn’t recognise, something between overjoyed and astounded. you quickly press your lips into his, a little more assured this time. he kisses you back just as eagerly, pulling your waist close to his, breathing hot air into your lungs. you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands, so you snaked your hand into his soft, full hair. he groaned into your mouth, and you felt your stomach do flips.
this was definitely not how you expected your night to go.
part two.
#my first fic be gentle pls#haven’t written in like a year so i’m a bit rusty#i laughed when i wrote the line ‘what can i say’#what can i sayyyyyy#sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo oneshot#sturniolo triplets
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g!p yujin x fem reader where they are bffs which yujin has a long time crush on you and has been eye-ing you for a long time.... and eventually you guys became fwb 🤷🏼♀️
okok but what if you’ve known of her little crush on you for a while? bcs to be fair, yujin wouldn’t make too much of an effort to hide her feelings! she’s hot and she knows what she wants, which just so happens to be you, her bff 😋 you’ve always seen the way she looks at you, especially whenever you twirled around in your room trying out a variety of outfits for her,, and yujin is the worst when it comes to hiding her boner good god,, it's like she wants you to see how much you turn her on 😳😳 she sits on your bed, leans back on her hands and rakes her eyes all over your figure while you show off! typical bffs activity, right?
"what do you think about this one, yujin-ah? we're matching!" doing a quick little spin, you gave yujin a great view of what was underneath your pastel pink miniskirt and that did not help her little situation at all! she had the same miniskirt on where her very obvious boner showed,, yujinnie not being able to withstand the lack of relief anymore and suddenly pulling you to her lap,, her nearly moaning at the feeling of your ass being so perfectly placed against her throbbing dick against your ass,, "let's take a photo." she says as if she didn't want to do anything but rail you at that moment 😩
her sneaking a hand underneath your skirt after she's done taking a cute lil pic,, "you oughta dress like this more, (y/n)... you're so pretty." ofc yujin has always said that a lot but there was this certain tone to her voice that suggested that that compliment was all but platonic... so you turned to face her, and we all know she won't waste any time and put her hands on your ass,, gently squeezing your cheeks while looking up at you with shiny eyes,, she will not stop you from kissing her all over her face and her neck ehehjdjdh her little moans omg?? and she couldn't hold back a whimper when you reached down and squeezed her dick through her skirt :((
making her lay on the bed with her back against the headrest, her legs wide open while you took off her undergarments in the slowest way possible 😭 she tells you to hurry up in this small voice that you almost folded but you were a little shit so she wasn't getting what she wanted any time soon :3 yujinnie whining while you kiss her thighs when her cock is right there :(( she almost wanted to just grab your hair and use your mouth as she pleases… but that was an idea for another time 😳
enforcing the yujin-has-a-sensitive-cock agenda today bcs between the amount of time she has been waiting for this plus the way you looked at her while you were bent down with your mouth nearing her dick… yes she would definitely be moaning the moment you start leaving wet, sloppy kisses on her shaft 🤭 “(y/n).. fuck, hurry up…” poor baby was so desperate to cum in your mouth :(( putting your lips over her tip, flicking your tongue over her slit to get a taste of her precum and oh was your best friend delectable… working your mouth on her head while simultaneously jerking her off :(( yujinnie feeling so good that she holds onto your blouse, one hand barely covering up her mouth to contain her sounds bcs we all know yujin is loud 🤭🤭
again… sensitive dick so you don’t even have to take all of her cock inside your mouth before she spilling her cum all over your hands and face :(( yujin being so embarrassed bcs she knew you were just getting started… but hey, you actually liked how fast she came! licking off her cum from your fingers while she stared at you, practically begging for you to continue 🥺🥺
and when i say overwhelming yuj by deepthroating her and edging her?? her shaking her head and saying “pleasepleaseplease” every time you pull your mouth away from her cock to painfully slowly jerk her off :(( you were too much of a tease, yujinnie just wanted to see your pretty face dripping with her cum 😔 but like giving her exactly what she wants after making her suffer for it??? her preparing for another stop but then you practically consume her cock in one go?? the way you expertly worked your mouth on her entire length driving her completely off the edge… her screaming your name as she came 😣💓
and fuck, she hasn’t even recovered but you’ve already straddled her lap, your drenched cunt more than ready to take her in,, “we’re not finished… don’t fall asleep on me now, baby.” and then letting her get a taste of her cum by kissing her… and with how you looked so good in your little outfit, can you really blame yujin for losing her composure and fucking you all day until both of you could barely stay conscious?? 🫣
#ive smut#ive imagines#ive x fem reader#ive x reader#ahn yujin smut#ahn yujin imagines#ahn yujin x fem reader#ahn yujin x reader#yujin smut#yujin x fem reader#yujin x reader#yujin imagines#girl group smut#girl group x fem reader#girl group x reader#girl group imagines#g!p idol#g!p ive#g!p ahn yujin#g!p yujin
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Would you like a receipt? Pt. 1
In Valentines collaboration with @svthub hosted by my wifey @wongyuseokie, pt 2 out now!
Pairing: Childhood bf!junhui x working class gn!reader
Genre: fluff, slight angst, slice of life
Word count: 2.9k
tags: second chances, exes to ???, childhood friend/boyfriend!junhui, spontaneous dates, misunderstandings, smut in part 2!!!
Summary: Coming across a grade school ex-boyfriend while you worked a shitty seasonal job around Valentines was not in your 2024 bingo card.
author note: to sweet mio at @skyechild i apologize in advance for making you wait for the second half. I promise it'll be worth the wait. but yes! i am your one and only cupid. I hope you enjoy what i have so far. And to answer your ask, idk if i have a favorite thing about myself? Maybe it's the constant desire to look for new things to improve on or my attitude in trying new things? What i look for other people is pretty simple tho. That would be ease. I'd like if someone felt comfortable with me and vice versa. if i can make someone's day by making them laugh or just existing then that would be great. happy valentines day mio!
From yours Truly, Cupid💘
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic
Valentine's Day has always been a bit of a hit or miss for you. The last time you remember eagerly anticipating the holiday was back in high school. Since then, the allure of celebrating love and romance seemed to fade away, as you realized that not everything in the world is adorned in shades of pink and red. Valentine's Day became a luxury, a whimsical indulgence that felt distant and impractical for someone navigating a world that often left little room for such extravagances. Life, for you, was a series of tasks, responsibilities, and the constant juggling act of making ends meet.
From the time you were in high school, you entered the realm of adulthood, where dreams sometimes took a backseat to the more immediate needs of providing for your family. The dreams you put on hold lingered in the recesses of your mind, awaiting their turn to be fulfilled. Working tirelessly, you made sacrifices, dedicating yourself to a job that demanded your energy and time. Despite the challenges, you pressed on, ensuring the well-being of your family, who toiled alongside you, if not even harder.
Now, as an adult working a part-time job that offers a slightly better paycheck than your previous one, you’ve grown used to the matter. While the financial gains may not be monumental, every improvement counts, especially when compared to the downfalls of your previous workplace.
Amidst the whirlwind of your daily hustle, Valentine's Day transforms into a distant echo of the past–a time when celebrations were carefree and seemingly attainable. However, for you, navigating the world feels akin to maneuvering on an almost empty tank. In this moment, mere existence becomes a means to sustain yourself.
“Is this a gift? If so, would you like it to be gift-wrapped for you?”
The middle-aged man raises an eyebrow, smacking that mint gum that doesn’t seem to mask his nicotine-coated breath. “Is it extra?”
“It’s two dollars extra.”
Usually, you’d really sell the idea that the highest premium quality wrapping paper would be used to then be topped off with a satin ribbon that truly pulls it all together, but for such a customer, you know you’d be wasting your breath.
He scoffs, snatching the bag off the counter. “Are you trying to scam me? Fuck that shit.”
You let a sigh of relief slip past your lips the moment he made his way out the sliding door, muttering to yourself about the smell. You reach down for your Powerade hidden on a bottom shelf of the counter you stand behind, hoping this supposed ‘power’ would relinquish itself to you for another long shift.
It’s the day before Valentine's Day, which means the rush has become a regular occurrence since about a week ago. The store is bursting with vibrant displays of flowers, stuffed animals clutching oversized lollipops, and decadent heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. Not such a bad gig if you look at it.
However, the true predicament lies in the presence of aggressive customers, drawn to discounts like magnets. They're all about grabbing anything and everything that's on sale, making things more complicated than they need to be. It's like they're trying to see how far they can push things and make your day even crazier. Dealing with them adds an extra layer of chaos to the already busy scene as if you haven’t lost faith in humanity enough.
“I bought this yesterday and it’s DIGUSTING! I want a full refund and extra compensation for my time and taste buds being wasted on this disgusting excuse of a candy.”
Popping open the box revealed a sorry sight–almost half the candies were missing as if they'd gone on a little taste adventure without an invite. The poor box looked like it had been through a candy apocalypse, so messed up that I couldn't even be sure if it originally belonged to our store.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry you're dissatisfied with our products. However, because the box is so damaged and half of the contents have been consumed we cannot accept this return,” you respond in your most polite service voice.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Where the hell is your manager? The customer is always right!”
At last, a wave of relief crashes over you like a superhero arriving just in the nick of time during closing hours. The once bustling crowd has dwindled, allowing you to begin the task of rearranging items and securing the cash register, signaling the imminent conclusion of yet another busy day.
Just when you're on the verge of clocking out and calling it a day, a sudden interruption unfolds at the entrance. A lone figure materializes outside, softly tapping on the glass as if pleading to be granted entry.
"Please," his voice is all muffled through the glass, "I know you're about to close, but pretty please! I just need to grab something real quick. I already know exactly what I need!"
It’s not every day you see a man of his looks and caliber beg to be given access to a candy store as if he were a determined child. There's this undeniable air of urgency about him–as if he’d die if we didn’t get what he needed–but it doesn't overshadow his perfectly proportioned features that illuminate under the evening street lights. Ultimately, you decide to approach the door, swiftly undoing the top lock of the door and allowing him inside.
He expresses his gratitude with a grateful clasp of his hands, swiftly navigating through the inventory to grab what he urgently needs. Returning to the counter, you initiate the process of unraveling the closing procedures, all the while fervently hoping that no one else decides to join the stranger in last minute browsing.
"Sorry," he apologizes as he drops his items on the counter: several heart-shaped boxes and a bear clutching a mini Mylar balloon that shouts 'I love you,' with a small box of chocolates in its other paw. A classic and popular choice.
“That’s a lot of chocolate. Big family?”
He shakes his head, "Nah, these are for a company thing. I've been busting my butt for weeks, and the one simple task I get, I can't even manage it until the last minute."
"Got it. And the bear? Picking up a last-minute surprise for your girlfriend too?"
A slightly offended look crosses his face. "Oh, if I had a girlfriend, I’d do way more than make up my tardiness with a teddy bear.” He holds the fluffy creature in his hand, “This is just for my mom. So, if you ever spot a lady with my face and long hair, please, keep it on the down-low."
You chuckle softly, bagging up his purchases. "I'll remember that. Cash or credit?"
He extends his hand, revealing his credit card with his full name on display. As you sound out the name in your head, it strikes you as unique yet oddly familiar. You run the card through the machine, unaware that the customer is squinting at you, also trying to place where he might know you from.
"Hey, have we met before? You seem really familiar," he questions.
"Uh, not sure, but your name does ring a bell," you reply as you hand the card back. "Haven't come across too many Wen Junhuis."
"Wait, how do you know my name?" he questions.
"Well, it's on your credit card, sir," You respond with straightforward precision.
"True, but no one has picked it up as quickly and accurately as you did. Maybe we do know each other."
You shrug. "Maybe so. I think the last time I heard a name like that was back in elementary school. A classmate maybe."
"Hold on, you couldn't be Y/n, right?" he questions, his eyes widening with realization.
You take a brief pause to grasp the implication, acknowledging it with a nod. "Been a long time coming, hasn't it?"
His smile widened across his cheeks, evoking memories of a similar grin on a boy more than half his age. "Yeah. Well, I be damned. I'm surprised you remember my name."
"It's pretty distinctive; I'm surprised you remember mine."
He scoffs. "You are a core memory, thank you very much. One of the nicest and coolest people in our grade. God, remember our first Valentines?"
"Yes," you softly chuckle, the memories of childhood innocence flooding back. "I begged my mom to get these really nice scented Valentine cards to give to the class."
"And you gave me the lemon one because I love lemons, and I gave you one of the hologram cards of a cat that smiles when you flip it on its side."
"I was so excited to show my sister, and I just know she was so jealous."
"Yeah, where did the time go?" he sighs, his smile turning wistful on his lips.
You shake your head, still smiling from the unexpected trip down memory lane, and finally, hand off his gifts back to him. "Would you like a receipt?"
"No, I'm good. So,” He leans over the counter curiously, “What are you doing this Valentine's?"
"Working the day. I'll probably just grab takeout for dinner and head home. You?"
"It's a workday,” he says proceeding to grab his things. “So most of the day is spent in the office. But, I'm free the rest of the evening…would it be weird if I asked you out for Valentine's Day?" he nervously proposes.
You raise an eyebrow, slightly taken aback but intrigued. "You want me to be your Valentine?"
"Couldn't hurt," he nonchalantly shrugged, a wry grin playing on his lips. Then, as if a light bulb flickered to life above his head, an idea dawned on him, sparking mischief in his eyes.
"Unless you've got a 200-pound, all-muscle boyfriend ready to beat my ass," he quips, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. The words linger in the air, forming a playful challenge and a subtle admission that, just maybe, he wasn't entirely impervious to consequences.
It harks back to a past altercation, one of those rare 'couple quarrels' you had. The promise was made in jest—that you'd leave him if he ever pulled on your hair again, and he'd have to face a burly 200-pound muscle man. Though uttered in humor with no evidence of said muscle man, it struck a chord of genuine concern in his little boy heart, and he kept that promise until the end of your relationship. The memory lingered, manifesting now in an unmistakable charm, a blend of audacity, bravado, and humor that fills the air with laughter and unadulterated ease.
You chuckle. “Lucikly, I don’t, but I don’t know you. Who knows what kind of person you, or I, have become in the last fifteen or so years? Maybe I'm a bitch.”
"Well, as long as there’s no one else in the picture, I see no problem. Bitch all you want to me." he grins.
Your expression shifts into a playful contemplation, "Why me? I'm pretty sure there are plenty of people out there dying for a dinner date with you. I mean, the last thing we shared was a juice box."
"Maybe I'm hoping to reignite an old spark. If I recall our MASH game correctly, we were supposed to be living in a shack with 20 kids, a dog, and daily commutes on a scooter," Junhui retorts.
"Thank goodness that scenario never played out, but, um, I'm not sure dinner is a good idea."
As the banter unfolds, you realize it's been an eternity since you've experienced the thrill of a proper date. The mere thought of dressing up, the nervous excitement before meeting someone, and the shared laughter over a romantic meal become fragments of a distant past, like pages in a cherished novel stored away on a forgotten shelf.
“We never know unless we try, right?” He says, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“You always hit on exes that you stumble upon on a random Tuesday?”
“Only the pretty ones.” Junhui grins, swiftly extracting a candy box from the bag. With a quick scribble on the side, he hands it to you. “If you change your mind. Happy Valentine's Day.”
You roll your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you accept the candy. “Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Jun.”
You depart with a box of candy in hand when your shift ends, Junhui's number hastily scribbled on the top, the ink still fresh as that abrupt encounter. As you make your way home, the city lights shimmering in the distance, you find your thoughts circling back to his audacious proposition.
The weight of the candy box seems to mirror the gravity of the decision before you. The city streets, now quieter in the late evening, echo with dilemma of pursuing his offer. You can't deny the charm that lingers in the air—a mix of confusion, nostalgia, and an unexpected connection. The mere act of considering his offer adds a layer of excitement to the night, anticipation for plans that have been yet set in motion.
As you unlock the door to your apartment, the scent of familiarity welcomes you warmly for once, likely due to the refreshing end of your night. You set the candy aside–already having memorized Junhui's number–and with a decisive tap, you enter his number into your phone. The screen lights up with his name, a digital beacon inviting you to venture into uncharted territory. As you send a quick message, the city outside continues its gentle hum, and you can't help but feel giddy. You’re eleven all over again.
The memory of Junhui's charismatic grin lingers in your mind, a subtle tug at the edges of your thoughts the moment you hit send, and you throw the phone aside, letting yourself get rid of the electrifying nerves running through your body. When you hear the notification going off–Junhui’s name on display–you realize there’s no going back.
The following day, you’re excited about living for once. Delighted to have something to look forward to after work, you board today's bus with a genuine smile on your face, a subtle change that doesn't escape the notice of the bus drivers, who have grown accustomed to your early presence by now.
As the bus carries you through the familiar townscape, you can't help but revel in the subtle shift in the air. The usual humdrum of daily life seems to have given way to a vibrant undercurrent of anticipation for the holiday. The ordinary scenes outside the window take on a slightly pink hue, and you find yourself savoring the details that often go unnoticed illuminated with festive decor.
Work hours also pass with a newfound energy, and the anticipation for the evening grows with each passing minute, even with the rambunctious customers buying more gifts just in the nick of time. The mundane tasks of the day become a mere backdrop to the vibrant scene that awaits you once the clock strikes the end of the workday.
Today, the world outside the candy store seems to radiate brighter than any other day has. The street lights gradually flickering on, usually just a backdrop to your daily grind, now beckon with a promise of surprises. As the day unfolds, you find yourself counting down the hours until your appointment time arrives and you quickly change into your Valentine's date attire, anticipating Junhui's reappearance.
Time moves forward—one hour, two hours, three hours. Doubts begin to creep in. Were you merely indulging in wishful thinking at this point?
The rose-tinted glasses, which once painted the day with a hopeful hue, must have started to expire. Now, a subtle gray takes over, bringing you back to the stark reality of the passing moments. The initial excitement begins to wane, replaced by a tinge of disappointment and a hint of uncertainty.
As the clock ticks away, doubts and questions swirl in your mind like a gathering storm. The vibrant anticipation that once filled the air begins to dissipate, leaving behind a quiet unease.
You glance at your reflection in the mirror, the Valentine's date attire now carrying a touch of wistfulness. The city outside, once alive with the promise of a special evening, now takes on a different tone. The street lights, initially beacons of excitement, cast shadows that dance with anxiety and unease. The imminent arrival of buses amplifies a fleeting thought–maybe, just maybe, you can still catch it if you run.
Taking a leap of faith, you hastily gather your belongings and make your way to the bus station, adhering to your initial plan—opting for takeout in the solitude of home, if restaurants are still an option at this hour. Amidst the uncertainty, your phone succumbs to the lack of power, its screen plunged into darkness, mirroring the tone of your night.
The familiarity of home brings no comfort, only disheartenment. You set aside the dinner you had envisioned for tonight, plugging in your phone to replenish its drained battery, intentionally avoiding any further interaction with the outside world for the remainder of the night.
When your phone finally regains its power, messages burst to life in an instant, one particular message standing out, beckoning attention. That is, of course, if you were still around to witness it.
Junhui: I’m so sorry! You will not believe the day I had. My office was bombarding me all day with extra work and i only left now. Please tell me its not too late.
P.S. and here's that valentine i wanted to give to you <3 i hope you like it as much as this fic so far
#svthub#svthub.collab#wen junhui#junhui#seventeen#junhui fluff#junhui angst#wen junhui angst#seventeen x reader#svt#seventeen junhui#seventeen jun#svt jun#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#junhui x reader#junhui x you#junhui x y/n#junhui fanfic#seventeen x you#seventeen x y/n
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A Black Tie Affair And A Long Goodbye (Partial Draft)
A/N: So this is the partial draft of what was going to be my farewell piece before I retired. It initially started out as an idea for a Kang Mina x Sejeong piece after they both had amazing appearances in black dresses for award shows last year. Then I added Jihyo, and then Yoojeong, and as I kept finding more pictures of hot idols in black dresses, the list just kept growing and growing. It eventually evolved into an idea for a piece where instead of a massive orgy, it would be a ton of quickie scenes varying in length but typically not exceeding 3k words per scene. However, clearly, that never happened. I ended up putting a lot of pressure on myself and eventually retired without putting anything out. I'm posting it now but be warned; this is a very rough draft that has gone through zero editing. I'm not gonna lie, it's not that great and the smut itself is eerily similar to Reconnecting despite me trying not to copy my own piece. Anyway, here it is and I hope you enjoy. Treat this as a winter holiday present I guess.
As you stare at the thin black fabric hugging the voluptuous body before you, a single thought crosses your mind. You love your girlfriend. Not just because her curvaceous figure in that black dress tantalizes you as she stands a few feet away, but for what the dress itself means.
Award show season. The few nights of the year your girlfriend finally gets awarded for all her amazing work through the year.
However it’s also the few nights of the year that she and all her friends get so unbelievably stressed, that she loans you out to all her gorgeous friends for “relief.” The first time she asked about you to help her friend, you thought it was a trap. But somehow it wasn’t and you discovered that your amazing girlfriend is completely okay with essentially whoring you out to her equally beautiful friends, the cherry on top to your already incredible relationship.
While initially it was only your girlfriend and a few of her close friends, word about your “services" quickly and quietly spread throughout the industry, with more and more celebrities using you for relief every year. At first you were worried about the increasing number of requests, but your girlfriend convinced you to take care of anyone who asked. As it turns out, she actually gets turned on by the thought of so many women wanting you.
Wondering how many gorgeous women you’ll have to satisfy this year, a loving voice finally pulls you from your thoughts.
“You ready to go?”
“Of course, baby. Let’s get going.” You smile as you gently take her hand and start making your way towards the door.
It hasn’t even been ten minutes since you arrived at the venue before the first taker pulls you into a bathroom. You quickly get pushed into a stall onto a thankfully closed toilet and find yourself with the first voluptuous beauty of the night grinding on your lap as she peppers your neck with kisses.
“Jesus, Mina. I haven’t even been in the building for fifteen minutes and you’re already jumping me like this?” You groan as her soft lips kiss up and down your neck.
“I can’t help it. I saw you looking amazing in that tux and all the stress I’ve had lately just exploded. I just fucking needed you so much.” Mina whines, her hungry kisses tracing your jawline.
“Sounds like you’ve been under a lot of pressure then. With that kind of stress, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d been a bad girl lately.” You tease.
Your hands instinctively make themselves at home on Mina’s hips with a rough squeeze as her barrage of kisses comes to a screeching halt. Pulling away from your neck, she stares into your eyes with an intense erotic gaze.
“Oh, I’ve been a very bad girl. I need you to punish me with your fat cock, daddy.” Mina replies, slowly emphasizing every word as her voice drips with lustful seduction.
The first time she called you daddy during sex it caught both of you off guard. After the initial shock however, you discovered just how much it turned you on; something she’s used to her advantage ever since.
She gently pushes her hand against your chest as she stands up off of your lap. You waste no time getting ready, quickly unbuckling your belt and dropping your pants down to your ankles. Mina pulls her dress up to her midriff, revealing her delightfully fit tummy and a thin pair of black panties.
Sliding her panties to the side to reveal her moist entrance, Mina eagerly sinks herself on your throbbing cock. Both of you release a pleasured moan as her tight cunt hungrily grips your shaft. Lifting herself up briefly, she quickly slams herself back down as her shapely ass ripples against your thighs. It doesn’t take long for her to establish her usual cock hungry rapid pace as she furiously rides you.
“Oh fuck, you fill me so much, daddy.” Mina cries, slamming herself on your cock.
“You like riding daddy’s dick like this don’t you?” You grunt as your tip pounds away at her depths.
“Yes daddy I do. You hit me so deep, daddy.”
Her curvaceous body ripples and bounces with every frantic slam. Contented moans pour endlessly from her lips as she places her hands on your shoulders. The velvety heat of her moist chasm radiates along your shaft as her walls clamp around your cock. Each thrust pierces into the deepest part of her cunt, driving both of you to the brink of ecstasy.
As Mina becomes a mewling mess on your cock, you can’t help but notice how gorgeous she is in her midnight black dress. It tightly hugs her large chest as her auburn hair tumbles down its erotic curve. Watching her big tits heave wildly in the black fabric, you quickly find yourself unable to hold back your own desires. You yank down the tight dress, freeing the large breasts with a satisfying bounce and immediately taking a stiff nipple into your mouth. Your hands sink into the pillowy flesh of her chest as you rapidly roll your tongue around the fleshy nub.
“Fuck, I love when you suck my tits, daddy.” Mina shrieks as her fingernails dig into your shoulders through your tux.
While you should probably be worried about how loud she’s moaning, worshiping her chest erases all other thoughts from your mind. You quickly flick your tongue up and down the sweet nipple as her heavenly flesh ripples against your lips. Your fingers can’t get enough of her silky skin, squeezing and kneading both of the fleshy mounds endlessly in your hands. The small beauty mark on her right breast dances in and out of your vision as her tits bounce with every frantic slam on your cock.
As you messily devour Mina’s pillowy breasts, her hands move to the nape of your neck. She grabs as much of your hair as she can and pushes your face even farther into the satiny skin of her chest. Endless moans and gasps flow from her lips as she fervently rides your cock, humping and bouncing on you with a vigorous sexual hunger that you’ve rarely experienced. No longer content with Mina just fucking herself on your dick, you give her tits another rough squeeze as you begin to buck your hips upwards.
“Oh fuck yes, daddy!” Mina cries out as your tip slams into her depths.
Her moist cunt tightly grips your shaft, tugging and pulling with every eager thrust. The soft skin of her endless curves ripples beautifully as your bodies hungrily crash against each other. Your hands move down to her slender hips, squeezing them tightly as you drive your cock deeper and deeper into her hot chasm with every forceful slam. You continue to slurp, suck, and nibble on her stiff nipple; feasting on the sweet flesh as the heavy weight of her large tits slap against your face from Mina bouncing wildly on your dick.
You lose track of how long the two of you have been carnally devouring each other’s bodies when every fiber of your body feels like it’s on fire. You regretfully removes your lips
“I’m gonna fucking cum, Mina.” You groan as you feel yourself reaching your limit.
“I’m almost there too. Cum inside me, daddy. Fill this tight pussy with daddy’s thick cum.” Mina screams, her hips bucking non-stop as she furiously rides your cock.
Almost as soon as she finishes her sentence, Mina’s own orgasm is the first to arrive. A rush of her sticky nectar rushes down your shaft as her velvety walls clench around your dick. Not far behind her, you continue to pound your tip away at her depths. As her body trembles on your cock, you forcefully push your dick as deep as you can inside her. She pushes your face into her deep cleavage and it’s all it takes to bring you to your own climax. Your tip throbs against the entrance of her womb before violently erupting.
An endless torrent of thick cum floods into Mina’s womb, quickly filling her to the brim with an unending stream of ropey semen exploding from your tip. Mina slowly grinds against you as you continue filling her with an obscene amount of your childbearing seed, her hot walls tightly gripping your shaft as it tries to milk as much of your potent cum as it can. One final spurt of your cum drowns her womb and both of your orgasms slowly die down.
The bathroom falls silent except for the heavy panting of the two of you trying to catch your breath. After a few minutes, you finally remove your face from Mina’s cleavage as she looks at you with an affectionate smile. She softly presses her lips against yours before standing up. Your shaft coated with the sticky remnants of both of your orgasms, it glistens in the fluorescent light as she lifts herself off your cock. No longer being dammed by your depleted member, a thick white waterfall slowly drips out of her entrance.
The two of you chuckle as you take the nearby toilet paper and quickly clean yourselves up. After a few minutes of fixing your clothes, both of you look the same as before you entered the bathroom. Mina looking drop dead gorgeous in her black dress and you looking painfully average in your tux. She gives you another gentle kiss before pulling back and smiling.
“That was exactly what I needed. Thank you, daddy. I’ll see you later.”
Mina gives you a teasing wink before disappearing from the bathroom. Just to be safe, you wait a few more minutes before leaving the bathroom and returning to the venue halls, wondering who will be next.
A/N2: So the plan for the piece was with so many idols included, I wanted it to be like a choose your own adventure type thing where all the scenes would be included but the reader could pick which one was the true "girlfriend" for themselves. A potential/joke ending that I came up with involved a time skip with the protagonist sitting in front of a table with a mountain of positive pregnancy tests from all the idols. Not sure if I would have gone with that as the official ending, but I guess we'll never know. I had started the second scene in my draft, but since the smut scene for that idol wasn't finished, I didn't include it. Just felt like it would be a tease and I don't want to do that you guys since I don't know if I'll ever finish it. But if I do, I'll post it as a part two I guess. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.
#kpop#kpop smut#reader insert#reader x idol#male reader x idol#kang mina#gugudan mina#reader x kang mina
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— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers
— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?
— Chapter summary: A simple dinner party leads to new relations. Eren Jaeger can't keep his eyes off of you.
— Content warnings: mentions of murder, alcohol consumption.
— Notes: I'm so excited to post the first chapter to my new series. I've been wanting to write again for two years now and I finally got hit with inspiration. This is a little different from my usual stuff, but I hope you'll like it. A special thank you to @dreamy-jaeger for beta-reading <3 Happy reading, bubs!
Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist
at first sight
Nobody ever said anything about the desperate cries that could be faintly heard from one of the units in Sina Park. Then again, the surrounding houses were occupied by people well into the age when sound just doesn’t reach them as well as it did even just a few years back.
Sina Park was known for being a peaceful area. With its small and painterly identical houses, and its gardens full of color and floral aromas, it was a picture-perfect community. It wasn’t embedded into its terms to remain strictly as senior-only housing but the great majority of its residents certainly gave off that idea to any outsider. It was to the point where it came as a surprise for one to find out there was someone under the age of sixty living there. But everyone in Sina was well acquainted with each other, and friendliness was practically the norm between every carefree neighbor.
That was probably why Mr. Shadis didn’t bat an eye when he was enjoying a cup of tea on his front porch and he saw the youngest of the Sina community step out with a duffel bag that was promptly thrown into the trunk of his car, the same night silence reclaimed its territory in Sina Gardens.
“A bit chilly tonight, eh Fred?” Mr. Shadis asked from his side of the street, raising his hand in greeting when he saw his neighbor walk out.
The young man tossed a boyish smile toward his elder while reciprocating his wave.
“Just a bit, Mr. Shadis. You probably shouldn’t be out much longer or you’ll catch a cold,” he replied, still smiling as he slammed his trunk shut and smoothly tossed his car key in the air with his left hand, catching it swiftly with his right.
“Me? What about you?” Shadis teased.
“I’ve still got good bones,” he joked to which Shadis clicked his tongue, feigning hurt feelings as he shook his head.
“You be careful on the road now, eh Fred?” he said, watching the young man disappear into his car, his hand lagging behind to wave goodbye.
The car peeled slowly from its driveway, out of Sina Park, and onto the main road. As the speedometer needle trembled between steady numbers, music flowed softly through the car’s speakers, barely loud enough to disguise the disgusted voice that murmured “That’s not my name, you stupid fuck.”
The early autumn breeze pins your skirt against your thighs and playfully tussles your hair as you hurry toward the bakery on the corner of the street. You’re welcomed by the pleasant jingle of the bell above the door, as well as Kuchel’s warm interior that puts a stop to the outside’s disturbances on your clothes.
A slight impatience consumes you as you wait for your turn to order, but you try to keep your booted feet from tapping against the hardwood floor and settle for tapping your fingers on your wallet as you try to assess the available baked goods from your spot in line. There’s a variety of sweet and salty treats — from jumbo oatmeal cookies to pain au chocolat to rolls — but you’ve only got a single thing in mind. A breath of relief escapes your lightly chapped lips when you get close enough to see a neatly stacked pyramid of lemon bars in the display, and a second one after you have a box of them secured in your hands minutes later.
A satisfied smirk tugs lightly at your lips as you allow yourself to admire the neatly packaged treats. As you make your way to the door, the bell dings, pulling your attention from the box and saving you from clumsily bumping into the man who just walked in. The exchange is brief; he quickly apologizes for the avoided accident and holds the door open for you with a shy smile.
You don’t reciprocate his warm smile but opt for politely nodding in acknowledgment and thanking him for the gesture before hurrying out the door, not wanting to prolong his act of kindness more than necessary. You take a sharp turn toward the nearest bus stop, completely oblivious to the lingering pair of emerald eyes that steal one last glance at you from inside the bakery.
Once again, the wind teases your hair until it finds itself locked out by the shutting door of the bus you settle into. Your hand dives into your purse to retrieve your earbuds as soon as you find a seat, yet no music plays throughout your journey. The box from the bakery remains safely in your lap, the contents being lightly jostled now and then when the bus stops to pick up more passengers.
From the bakery to the bus and for the twenty-minute commute, you go over the names of the people you’ll be meeting in your head.
It’s not often that you get invited to a coworker’s housewarming party. It’s not often that you form a friendly relationship with a coworker. In fact, it’s not often that you engage with someone at all unless it’s for work or other impersonal things. But Armin Arlert’s nice. Despite being the kind of person who can’t seem to let the purposely lonely be lonely, you’ve taken a liking to him.
His friends, you think, might be a different story. It’s not that you expect them to be dreadful people, but socializing has never been your scene. You can be pleasant, laugh at jokes, and perhaps even throw one out yourself, but it’s not in you to pursue deeper connections. You’re more at ease keeping to yourself and observing if anything. However, the hopeful look on Armin’s face during your lunch break last week, when he insisted he wanted you at his party, has been popping up in your head at all hours so you feel as though you have no choice but to go beyond your standard pleasantries.
Your plan for surviving the evening is simple. Get there a few hours early so you can help cook, clean, or anything else Armin might need help with before his friends arrive. Partly because that’s what your altruistic nature steers you to do, but also because you’re hoping you can get a refresher course on what Armin's friends are like so you know what to expect and how to act. If they’re all friends of Armin, maybe it’ll be worth it for you to put some genuine intention behind your courtesies. After all, being friends with Armin hasn’t been difficult so far. You dare to even call it nice. Maybe it’s time for you to make at least one more friend.
Armin’s kitchen is bustling with energy as he and his friends move from one spot to another, swiftly keeping out of each other’s way in perfect sync to finish dinner preparations.
“I still can’t believe every single one of you bought me a candle… and the same one to top it all off,” Armin shakes his head in amusement, his mind recalling the small cluster of ocean-scented candles he left on the living room coffee table.
Despite his constant assurance that he’d take full responsibility for the food and drinks — he was the one to bring up the idea of a housewarming party first, so it only made sense —, all of his friends arrived little by little before noon to help out with the cooking. First was Mikasa who, as soon as Armin opened the door, handed him the gift bag with a smile, congratulating him on the move and saying she hoped her present would help make the place a little cozier.
Then came Connie and Sasha who, despite being roommates, failed to coordinate their gift choices and only realized they bought the same thing when Armin opened Sasha’s bag first and Connie’s jaw dropped in absolute horror. It only got funnier from there. Jean barely stuck the carefully wrapped gift box toward Armin when Mikasa muttered under her breath “It’s a good day for candle sales”.
“Well, you like candles, and the ocean is pretty much your brand, dude. Don’t blame us.” Jean shrugs, not bothering to peel his focused gaze from the carrots he’s grating.
“The last time I even talked about the ocean I was, like, fifteen. Almost ten years ago!”
Everyone knows Armin loves the long-term supply of ocean-scented candles, and what may seem like complaints to outsiders is just another bit they’ve all dragged on from their youth.
But Connie still seems a bit lost. His hands pause from sprinkling rosemary leaves on the potato wedges Mikasa neatly laid out on a baking tray.
“So you’re not fucking with the ocean anymore?” he asks with an uncharacteristically serious expression that causes Jean to sputter a laugh before disguising it as a cough.
“Ignore them,” Sasha prompts, rolling her eyes. Her lips then stretch into a suggestive grin. “Tell us about the girl you invited over. Before she gets here, you have to tell us for real this time, are you into her? Do we need to talk you up? I’m the best wingwoman, Armin. I will make her love you even if it kills me.” Sasha’s hands fall heavily onto Armin’s shoulders as if to back up her conviction.
Armin furrows his brow in mild exasperation. This was the second time he’d been harrowed with that string of questions, which didn’t seem like much, but it took a while for him to get his friends to drop the topic the first time around. He shakes his head and peels Sasha’s hands from his form, fixing them firmly at her sides.
“I already told you it’s not like that. And I don't think human sacrifice is needed, Sash. We’re friends. I just want her to meet you guys… and Eren, of course.”
Nobody picks up on the short pause before Eren’s name or Armin’s sly expression that he’s quick to hide by turning to face the sink.
“She’s a bit quiet but she’s really nice. I think she’ll be a nice addition to our group. You’ll like her, I promise. Just go a little easy, okay?” Armin pauses as he tugs on a pair of dishwashing gloves to whip around one last time. “And don’t say anything weird! I swear I’m telling the truth.”
“Okay,” Jean replies in a sing-songy voice. Armin turns to shoot him a threatening look upon hearing his teasing tone, only to find Jean pointing a stern finger in his direction, “But if you change your mind, I got you, bro.”
Armin only smiles in response, not willing to spare any more breath in correcting him, and starts washing the dishes. Before he can finish scrubbing the bowl in his hands, the doorbell rings and he rushes to pry himself free from his dishwashing gloves before heading to the intercom, glancing back to make sure everyone is still keeping busy.
“It’s me,” a slightly fuzzy version of your voice comes through the speaker.
He buzzes you in immediately and steps into the hall to wait for you.
When he sees you round the corner, his face breaks out into a grin.
“Hey, you made it!”
Your lips quirk into a small smile. Armin makes way for you to step inside.
“I thought I could get here a little early to help you with the food. I hope that’s okay.” Your voice trembles a bit at the end, and you start to worry when you realize Armin’s grin has faded.
“Actually, everything is pretty much done already. Everyone got here around noon, and they kind of took over.”
As if on cue, a burst of laughter hits your ears from where you assume the kitchen is.
You manage to let out a slow ‘oh’.
Your simple plan has officially backfired. Since Armin's friends are already here, and since he's had no shortage of hands to help him prepare for his get-together, there's nothing left for you to do. More importantly, there’s no more window for you to ask questions. You hoped you’d be the first to arrive, and each arrival after that would be spaced out so you had enough time to get a feel on every one of Armin’s friends on their own. Now that that’s out the window, you start to worry the dynamics will be a bit too awkward between you and however many there are of them. It’s a battlefield now. Too many factors, too many things to worry about. Headfirst, no safety net, no baby steps.
Almost as if he can sense your panic through your otherwise expressionless face, Armin smiles.
“Don't worry about it, they're nice.”
Your fingers curl tighter around the box of desserts. There's a permanent knot in your stomach that twists further, reminding you of its presence, in situations like this. Your mind flashes a jumble of different scenarios and all the possibilities for outcomes without letting you actually process or make sense of any of it.
And in the next instant, you're back.
“I brought some lemon bars from Kuchel.” You raise the box just enough for the movement to catch Armin’s eye.
His face lights up when he looks down at the box in your hands and he immediately takes hold of it.
“I freakin’ love these! Thank you!”
Relief washes over your previously tensed features. Of course, you already knew these specific lemon bars are Armin’s favorite. He's always bummed out when you go together to Kuchel for your lunch break and there's no more left.
“I actually got the last batch,” you state proudly, the feeling only growing when his fingers excitedly tug at the ribbon tying the handles together and fishing out a pastry, biting into it with no hesitation.
“No kidding, they always sell out. Come on, I'll introduce you to everybody.” He heads toward the kitchen, waving at you to follow him.
You nervously tug at your turtleneck's sleeves, leaving them to cover your hands in an almost protective manner.
The fact that all eyes fall on you the second you step into everyone's line of vision doesn't help you feel at ease. Your gaze wanders to a distant place in an attempt to lessen the mental weight everyone's stares bear on you. But Armin throws a comforting arm over your shoulder and gives you a light squeeze as he announces your name to everybody.
When you look up — because you have to in order to properly link names and faces together — each new person in the room has a warmth to their features that gradually soothes your internal distress.
Sasha’s the first name to be called out. She's also the only one who goes up to steal you from Armin's arms and hugs you excitedly, squealing about how exciting it is to finally meet you. You're taken aback by the sudden embrace, but she’s holding you so tight that you can't look back at Armin for help. You're also oblivious to his warning gaze toward her behind your back.
Mikasa smiles and nods politely at you from the other side of the counter. It's quite the contrast from the first girl, but her gaze radiates kindness.
Jean's good looks are the first thing you notice from him, and he's got a cool energy to match. He raises two fingers in a salute when it's his turn, paired with a side smile as he casually leans against the bar.
Lastly, there's Connie, who proves himself to be as goofy as Armin told you beforehand, by dramatically posing with one arm against the counter and his opposite hand resting on his hip, muscles flexed, head turned low just so he could look up again and say “the one and only”.
You purse your lips in response to hide the smile that still manages to slip through.
“Nice to meet you all.”
You stand there awkwardly for what you think is a second too long, silently begging to come up with something else to say or for someone else to pick up the task so everyone can move on.
Thankfully, Armin swoops in, showing off his box of lemon bars on his way to a seat at the bar. He taps the seat next to him, gesturing for you to sit.
“Impressive,” Jean says, nodding in approval as he neatly folds a tea towel. He knows how much Armin loves Kuchel's lemon bars.
“It's not a big deal,” you reply, waving him off as you scan the room for something to give yourself to do. But there isn't much.
The counters have been cleared of any signs of ingredient prep during introductions, there's a timer set for the oven, and there's but a small pile of dishes left unfinished at the sink, which Mikasa is already finishing up. So you settle for sitting at the bar and staying out of everyone's way.
However, sitting still doesn't clear you from everyone's attention. It only makes sense that they're curious about you. And with the oven timer still with a little less than an hour to go, you can sense the start of a conversation where you're the main focus.
“So…” Jean begins.
Everyone gathers around the bar.
You brace yourself.
The following minutes are a bit of a blur. You try your best to keep up with everyone's questions. Where you're from, your birthday, your zodiac sign, what kind of music you like, if you've been to this and that place, or tried the food at x, y, and z. They're pretty basic questions, but as long as you're a target you're kept on your toes. After each of your answers, there's an exchanged glance or a nod of approval. You know everyone is only trying to get to know you, yet you can't help but feel as though every question is part of a test and your likability is at stake. That is until the conversation branches out to a story about the best taco truck in the next town over, which, in turn, leads to a story about Connie and Sasha getting food poisoning from a different taco truck they decided to try after their favorite one happened to close early that day. Only then can you breathe a sigh of relief. You even laugh a little at Sasha’s colorful retelling of the taco story.
“So, basically, don't go to Tito's,” Sasha finalizes, giving you a stern look. “You'll be shitting and barfing for a week.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” you laugh.
After that, the conversation flows a lot easier for you. There's less pressure with the decrease in questions thrown your way, which gives you more confidence to chime in with anecdotes of your own. It's hard to pinpoint when the conversation stopped feeling like a test, but you're grateful for it.
You realize there was never any battlefield to survive. Not here, not with this group of friends. And it’s nice to have several people willing to fill in any silence and steer the flow of the conversation instead of feeling the pressure of everyone's interest in your hands.
Just as you take a second to wander your gaze across everyone's laughing faces, finally feeling at ease with your place in the group, the doorbell rings, followed by the shrill sound of the timer.
“Fucking Jaeger,” Jean mutters.
“Just in time,” Armin grins, hops down from his chair, and makes his way to the door. Jean follows him at his heel, mumbling something about “Jaeger” being late.
You're distracted by Mikasa's voice calling your name.
“Could you get me the oven mitts, please?”
You nod and offer your assistance in taking out the chicken.
On the other side of the wall, Armin buzzes his last guest in and holds the door open to wait, shooting a confused look at Jean, who leans back against the wall to wait, too.
As soon as he comes in, Armin yells out, “Eren!” and pulls his best friend into a big hug, forcing him to crouch slightly to accommodate his embrace. They both laugh as Jean stands with his arms across his chest and a disgruntled look on his face.
“Hey, man. Sorry I'm late.”
“Mhm,” Jean hums, expecting Eren to cower under his gaze.
He doesn't. Jean is completely ignored as Eren sheepishly starts to explain himself, even though Armin didn't expect him until around this time anyway.
“I wanted to get you those lemon bars you like from that bakery. But when I got there, they were all out, so I went to their other shop across town, but they didn't have any either, and so then I—”
Armin laughs.
“Relax. You made it, that's what matters.”
“I feel bad, though. I really wanted to get some for you. I know they're your favorite.”
“If you really wanted to do something nice, you could've gotten here earlier to help with the cooking,” Jean scolds. Then he smirks. “Like I did.”
Eren rolls his eyes, finally acknowledging Jean.
He then pulls out a small gift box and hands it to Armin with a smile.
"I got you a candle, though."
Jean snorts and walks back to the kitchen, leaving an annoyed Eren shooting daggers at his back.
Armin graciously takes the gift, taking the lid off to confirm that the candle is, indeed, ocean-scented.
"Thanks, buddy. I was running short on these," he smiles sympathetically at his friend, patting his shoulder.
As they walk into the open space of the dining area, you walk out with a stack of plates in your hands to set the table. Armin perks up upon seeing you and excitedly rushes Eren, saying he wants to introduce him to somebody.
Armin’s voice catches your attention as you carefully set the plates down. “This is my best friend Eren.”
Your gaze shifts toward the pair of surprised green eyes already set on you while Armin’s voice goes on in the background, repeating your name to his friend.
“Hey, it’s you.” Eren smiles in recognition.
Armin’s eyebrows raise in surprise; yours furrow in confusion. Everyone starts filing to the dining area with food and silverware to finish setting the table. You step aside, murmuring quiet apologies as you get out of their way and step closer to Armin and his friend.
“You two know each other?” Armin asks, his gaze shifting between the two of you.
Before Eren can answer, he’s interrupted by Mikasa walking over.
“Hey, Eren. You’re late.” She looks up at him with disappointment. You get the feeling he was supposed to arrive around the same time she and the others did.
“Yeah!” Connie whines from the dining table, where he’s setting up wine glasses. “We had to work twice as hard.”
Eren ignores Connie’s flawed math.
“Sorry, everybody,” he replies, yet his tone is more that of a meek kid who’s forced to apologize.
He returns his focus to his original conversation. Armin is still looking at him expectantly.
“Oh, right! Uh… yeah, we bumped into each other at Kuchel’s earlier,” he finally explains. He looks at you shyly. “I held the door for you.”
Your furrowed brow softens, and your lips shape into a silent ah! when you recall the brief interaction. You didn’t even remember his face, but you nod along now.
“Come on, guys. Let’s eat!” Mikasa’s voice cuts through the silence, putting an end to your conversation.
Throughout dinner, everyone is a lot more chatty than you expected, considering there's plenty of food to get through. Everyone spills out as many light-hearted anecdotes about one another as the bites they take of baked potato wedges, garlic butter chicken, and grated carrot salad. Their stories are clear to have been brought up between them several times over the years, but they're new to you and you appreciate them choosing to share with you.
It turns out, the universe has worked its magic to make sure all six friends remain close since childhood. The fact is a little intimidating when you find out, but you do your best to push it aside.
At first, you're perfectly fine quietly listening as you eat, your voice only adding to the mix in the shape of a laugh, a gasp, or a question for the storyteller — just enough so they don't forget you're there.
The entire time, you feel a pair of eyes stealing glances at you from across the table even when you're not talking. Whenever you slowly look up to meet them, Eren quickly shifts his gaze elsewhere. When choosing places at the table, Armin insisted on having you across from one another. He didn't outright say it, but he did rearrange everyone else so that it worked out that way.
Given that he was the last to arrive and you've barely spoken directly to each other since he got here, you're not sure how to feel about Eren yet. He seems nice enough, but you don't feel as easy even looking at him as you do with the others. It's strange, but his late arrival made all the difference. Somehow he seems like a total stranger compared to the people you met just an hour before him. After your awkward introduction, it’s hard to say if you can make the situation better.
Night has settled in by the time everyone is leaning back in their seats with full bellies, lazily sipping wine every few minutes as the conversation eases into a quieter, slower pace. The serving dishes have been scraped clean. The box of lemon bars you brought over has been split for dessert, leaving just one lonely square that you know a slightly tipsy Armin has been eyeing.
Eren had turned to look at you with surprise when Armin thanked you for the second time.
“Ah, so you're the one who beat me to the last batch,” was what he said.
A soft apology tumbled from your lips.
So far, you hadn't proved yourself to be big on smiling but, when you did, it was nice to look at. Consequently, he tried to be the cause of at least one. So when you gave him nothing for his weak attempt at teasing, he shrunk in his seat and decided to keep quiet.
It's not long before Jean suggests moving to the living room to play a game and you take that as your cue to start clearing the table so there's no mess to come back to later. As you slip quietly into the kitchen, you can hear Jean and Connie arguing over whether to play cards or Monopoly. As Connie argues, he doesn't want to play Monopoly with a cheater, to which Jean says it's not his fault he's the better player.
You carefully place the dishes in the sink, adjusting the streaming water to a warm temperature. As you tug the pair of dishwashing gloves onto your hands, you catch a glimpse of a figure stepping beside you. When you look up, you're met with a boyish grin and shy jewel-toned eyes. He's setting down another pile of dirty dishes on the counter.
“Hi.”
You're not sure how to respond other than with a polite nod and a soft hi back. There's not much else to say, anyway. Half of you hopes he'll leave; you need some space to recharge your social battery. The other half is curious about the kind of conversation you might have to engage in if he stays.
You focus your gaze on the soaking dishes, waiting with bated breath to see what he does.
He stays.
He offers to dry what you wash.
There's a nervous tremor in his voice. Like a kid scared to ask for permission instead of an adult offering help. It's so small you barely notice it, but it's there.
You nod.
You wash, he dries.
It's quiet save for the sounds of dishes clinking together.
Then, his voice comes through.
“I didn't mean to put you on the spot earlier when I got here. I just have a knack for remembering faces.”
An uncomfortable warmth crawls up your neck and pools at your cheeks.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm kind of the opposite. I just don't pay attention to faces,” you explain.
“Oh.” He forces a laugh. “Yeah, no, I get it.”
He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. It's a bit discouraging for him to see how laser-focused you are on doing the dishes though, and he already feels foolish for making you apologize for not recognizing a total stranger. He tries not to stare at you too much but it's difficult when you're right there beside him. He only hopes you can't make him out looking at you from the corner of his eye.
You, on the other hand, can feel his eyes burning holes into your side profile. Ignoring it is harder than you hope but at least you have something to help. You're not sure if he expects you to reciprocate his efforts in breaking the ice, but you've yet to get a proper read on him. He was mostly quiet during dinner. Whenever a story with him at the center came up, he'd try to sway the conversation in a different direction. He seemed tense and you hate to think he might be uncomfortable with your presence. Maybe he's an anxious person who's easily embarrassed, you think. Or he might’ve thought you were stuck up and rude after you failed to recognize him and that's why the air now feels so thick. That happens a lot. The people around you are mostly a blur until — and if you ever — have a reason to break into friendly territory.
The next time you hand a dish for Eren to dry, your gaze lingers, carefully taking in his features. His green eyes are striking, but it's not as if the rest of his face falls short of that. He's very handsome. In a more boyish way than you observed Jean to be, but sharper than, say, Armin. His brown hair is neatly cut on the sides, contrasted by the choppy bangs that line his forehead — something that brings more youth to his face. He's got long, thick lashes and plump lips. Faint freckles are scattered along what one might consider to be a perfect straight nose. He's very handsome, indeed. But that's not all. There's a delicacy to his features that blends them all harmoniously, making Eren Jaeger quite… pretty.
Eren suddenly clears his throat; you take it as a sign to stop staring.
“So… um… how long have you been friends with Armin?”
You already know the answer, and you didn’t mind the silence at all, but you might as well try to get Armin’s best friend in your good graces. Especially after your dreadful mistake of not recognizing him. It bothers you to think he might have decided he doesn’t like you because of that.
“Since we were six… Um… He had a lot of trouble with bullies back in elementary school and I beat them up for him.”
That part you didn’t know, so you pause your focus on the plate you’re scrubbing to glance at Eren with admiration.
“I think he might’ve developed a weird hero complex by mistake though,” he laughs to himself. “He wanted me to get into fights every time he saw someone new being bullied.”
You laugh. The sound makes Eren’s chest swell with pride.
“Did you do it?”
He bashfully nods without ungluing his gaze from the serving spoon he’s drying.
You laugh some more.
“And of course, then he would take them in as a friend. Something about strength in numbers or whatever. To this day he has this thing that he needs to take in anyone who seems vulnerable.”
You laugh through your nose fully aware of the familiarity you feel from Eren’s story.
“That definitely sounds like him.”
You grin as you finish rinsing the plate, excited to have found some common ground to latch onto for conversation.
Eren admires your happy expression from the corner of his eye.
But when you turn to look at him, he averts his gaze, curling his lips inwards, and he takes the plate from your hands.
Your lips downturn a bit, thinking you might still have a long way to go before you can make up for your mistake.
Still, the thickness in the kitchen air dissipates as you each return to your tasks, the corners of your lips perking up in relieved smiles.
Armin walks in a moment later with the remnants of a laugh on his face from whatever conversation he just left behind. His faded grin resurfaces when he finds you and Eren together, and he catches a glimpse of the pink tint dusting his best friend's cheeks.
He watches for a few seconds, mildly amused that neither of you seems to notice his presence. Just as Eren finishes wiping the last fork dry, he decides to speak.
“You didn't need to do that.”
His statement is directed at both of you, yet his gaze is fixed on you, a warm smile gracing his features.
“You should join the others,” he tells you. “Oh, and uh…” He swipes a bottle from one of the cupboards. “Take this with you.”
“Let me just help put away everything,” you offer.
“It's okay, Eren and I got it,” he assures you.
You back out hesitantly, only decidedly walking out when Armin gives you a reassuring nod.
Both men watch you leave. As soon as you're out of sight, Armin's lips stretch into a knowing smile.
“She's pretty, huh?”
Eren's eyebrows upturn in clear worry when he rips his gaze from you to look at Armin. They soften a split second later in an attempt to appear nonchalant before his grinning friend.
“Um… I guess so… I don't know.”
He hurries to tend to the dishes waiting to be put away, hoping it's enough to mask the way he slowly deflates.
Plates and forks are stored in silence. An amused Armin keeps glancing at him.
After a while, a soft laugh escapes his lips.
“Relax, I'm not into her.”
Eren stiffens, unable to remove his hand by will from the cupboard door he just shut, and instead letting gravity take the wheel.
Before he can reflect on how exposed he feels, Armin's voice comes through again from where he's now leaning casually against the counter with his hands in his pockets.
“But I meant it when I said she's pretty.” He nods along for emphasis even though Eren has yet to look at him.
“She's really smart too. And kind! I mean, she can seem a little cold at first, but I heard some guys are into that. There's just this charm to her, you know? A few guys at work have tried asking her out but they're totally wrong for her.” He shakes his head at the last thought, then side-eyes Eren expectantly.
“If she ever goes out with someone, I hope it's one of the good guys.”
Throughout Armin's speech, Eren kept his lips pressed together in a tight line, wondering where Armin was headed with all he was saying. At first, he assumed his friend was interested in the new face of the group, which is why he feigned disinterest. But with every word that kept rolling off his tongue, his intentions were blatantly obvious. And yet he still decides to ask, “What are you trying to do, Armin?”
"Nothing... nothing at all," Armin answers with a shrug, playing it off as if any suggestion is all in Eren's head. He straightens up and starts walking out of the kitchen. There's a pause in his step just before he can slip out of sight. Looking at Eren over his shoulder, he leaves him with one last thought.
“All I'm saying is if you just keep staring at her, she’s gonna get weirded out.”
Eren is left alone, blushing profusely and running a shaky hand through his hair.
“Come on! That can’t be your most embarrassing thing!”
You shrug.
“That's all I've got.”
“What’s going on?” Eren asks as he takes in the scene.
It took him a while to reason with himself alone in the kitchen. By the time Eren joins everyone in the living room — nerves finally dormant — everyone is sitting on the floor around the coffee table playing a drinking game. He walks over in search of an open space and ends up nestled between Jean and Connie. Jean throws an arm over his shoulders.
“Jaeger, good. Buddy, tell her about the time you tried to do a one-arm pushup.” From his sleepy eyes and the affectionate term toward Eren, one can easily tell he's drunk.
Eren looks up quizzically at everybody.
“We're telling our most embarrassing stories,” you explain. “Whoever has the worst one wins the round and everyone else has to drink. I think it's just a ploy for everyone to get dirt on me though.”
You pout at your cup. It's clear you're a little tipsy, too.
Eren softly laughs.
“Whaa– we would never,” Sasha pouts.
“You're getting a deal! You get six embarrassing stories for the price of one!” Connie points out.
As you start to argue that it's not really fair because it's not like you have anyone to tell, Sasha’s phone buzzes in her pocket and a loud groan rumbles from her throat after skimming through whatever text she just got. Her chin falls onto the coffee table, arms stretched out before her so she can reply.
Mikasa looks at her with concern and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, affectionately tapping her nose afterward.
“What's wrong?”
“Kaya's out with her friends and she's asking me to send her money for an Uber. I told her to be careful with her money but she just won't listen.”
Everyone either sympathetically smiles at her or idly watches her send over fifty dollars. You look at Armin, who quietly explains Kaya is Sasha’s younger sister who's a college freshman. You nod in understanding.
“That's a little sibling for you,” Connie mutters, softly patting Sasha’s head.
“That's why I love being an only child,” Jean states matter-of-factly. He stretches his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders back before reaching for the bottle of liquor at the center of the table. “Never had to worry about some annoying little runt.”
“I would've liked to have a younger sister,” Mikasa says. “It would've been fun to hang out and teach her things, you know?”
A touch of nostalgia dances along her lips as she traces the rim of her glass with her index finger.
“Oh, do you have any siblings?” Her eyes flit in your direction.
The question is innocent, but the topic of family causes you to shift uncomfortably in your seat.
“No… I don't.” You try to smile, but it's stiff.
Jean's loud clapping startles you. He tops off all but Connie's and Sasha’s glasses.
“Oh yeah, single child gang!” He raises his glass in cheers and downs the contents. You follow his lead, hoping that'll mark the end of that topic. But it doesn't. “You must've been spoiled growing up, am I right?”
You lower your gaze, opting to fiddle with your fingers instead of answering.
Mikasa seems to sense the fragility of the topic from your side because her eyebrows upturn in concern when she looks at you.
“Hey, not everyone has a mother like yours. Don't be rude, Jean-boy.” She raises a teasing eyebrow as she whips her head in Jean's direction.
“Didn't you yell at her when she brought cupcakes to our class for your birthday?” Eren scrunched his eyebrows together in feigned thought.
“I was twelve! You can't keep holding that over my head. I'm twenty-five now,” Jean whines.
“And I've yet to see you mature,” Eren mutters.
A hushed giggle escapes your lips. You cover it up by sipping your drink. A satisfied smirk tugs at Eren's lips when he catches a glimpse of your smile.
Contrary to his sober self, drunk Jean craves Eren's approval and affection instead of their usual frenemy-like banter. He looks at him with sad eyes.
“Hey, I've made up for it. Mama Kirstein doesn't need to lift a finger thanks to her amazing engineer son.”
Sasha’s face contorts in confusion.
“Last time I went to Trost with you, she was still working as a seamstress.”
Jean waves her off.
“She just likes to keep busy.”
“What do your parents do?” Sasha turns to you.
You're trapped.
From the corner of your eye, you can see Armin leaning forward with just as much interest as the others. In the past, Armin's asked about your family only once. After vaguely implying you weren't close to them, he dropped the topic. But now, in his intoxicated state, he doesn't do much to keep his level of curiosity under wraps. And knowing you're slightly buzzed, too, he hopes you’ve let go of any inhibitions that have kept you from revealing more of your background.
Armin likes you. He's always admired your efficiency at work, but you seemed lonely and closed off — which is why he decided to approach you in the first place. To everyone in the office, you were a cold stuck-up woman — yet they still refused to stop obsessing over you. To him, you were just misunderstood and lowkey. Sure, you refused to do much to take up space in a room, but through small conversations here and there, he was allowed to slowly unveil your true self.
But there was always another hidden wall. Armin wouldn't admit it out of fear of seeming like a creep, but that line you expertly draw — allowing someone in without fully giving yourself away — is part of what makes you alluring. That and your keen eye for reading people.
You wet your lips with a swipe of your tongue, looking for a way out inside the clear liquid sitting at the bottom of your glass.
Eren zeroes in on your face, trying to decipher the distant look in your eyes. The weight on his chest lightens when you finally speak.
“I'm not sure what they're doing now. Last time I checked, my mom was a drug addict, and my dad left when I was twelve.”
The weight in Eren's chest comes back heavier than ever.
Silence takes over the living room. Even the darkness outside the window seems eerily quiet as your abrupt statement courses through the gears in everyone's heads.
There's no certainty as to why you blurted out what you did. Maybe it was a sense of security which you now think was a trick of your mind. Perhaps the alcohol is to blame. After all, you didn't feel any need to be a burden on others on an otherwise fun night before. But the words just seemed to push their way out of your mouth.
A severe scolding rings in your ears.
You always ruin everything!
You don't expect anyone to come up with an answer. In fact, you'll be grateful if someone simply discards your words and steers the conversation in a different direction. But if nobody does, then you'll quietly make your way home. There’s no use in annoying others by begging them to let you stay, promising you won't cause any more trouble.
“How long has it been since you saw your mom?” Mikasa's voice cuts through the thickness of the air.
The look in her eyes is sympathetic. Not the fake kind that makes you feel pitied for having endured a rough life. It's the kind that simply matches such an ordinary question.
“About a year,” you murmur.
Jean hums in thought.
“A year, huh? That's almost how long you've been in the city, right?” He scratches his chin as he retrieves the information you shared earlier from his tipsy brain.
You nod. “Yup… one year.”
Everyone nods along to your answer. Everyone but one.
You nervously blink toward the left, searching Armin's face. He's slumped in his spot, his eyes lost at a blank point. They flash in your direction, and he quickly composes himself, but not quick enough for his expression to go unnoticed by you.
Despite some things here and there, he thought you were close. He never pressured you to share anything you didn't want to. Just getting along and respecting each other would have sufficed — he’s a giver more than he is a taker. But he feels like he failed to support you. He's extremely dumbfounded, but he doesn't make it a point that you never told him the specifics on something so big. He refuses to make you think he resents you for it.
But the glimpse you caught of his fallen shoulders and clouded eyes still makes you lower your head in guilt. Just ten minutes ago, you felt accomplished for being on your way to gaining new friends and grateful that Armin paved the way for you. You're embarrassed for having thought that you could juggle more relationships when you've barely been open to the one you already have. It's almost laughable that you thought to leave your comfort zone and give this evening a try.
Before you can issue an apology, Jean's loud clapping startles you for the second time tonight.
"Well.” He tilts his head as he splits the last of the liquor into everyone's glass for one last drink. “In any case... if you hadn't moved here, you wouldn't be drinking with the best people you'll ever meet."
“Hear, hear!” Armin yells beside you, following Jean's lead and raising his glass toward the center.
Your eyes meet his. He's smiling, nodding almost imperceptibly for you to join your glass with everyone else's. The corners of your lips quirk into a relieved smile. You raise your glass.
The rest of the group cheers as joyful clinks spread through the room.
Whatever darkness was squeezing at your chest dissipates. Your eyes crinkle in amusement as you allow your giddiness to take over.
A pair of mesmerized green eyes linger on your face from the opposite side of the coffee table. His lips part slightly to draw in a long breath, followed by a sip of alcohol.
A beeping phone sifts through the commotion.
Mikasa looks down at her phone. First, with curiosity, then with worry.
Levi
Don't go out at night for a while. Killer on the loose. SN3
She calls out Armin's name.
“Turn on the news on channel 3.”
The urgency tainting Mikasa's usual steady voice has Armin scrambling to find the remote, though with a bit of confusion. Everyone else exchanges quizzical glances while they wait for him to turn the television on.
A male newscaster is halfway through reciting a report on the police department's recent findings.
“... The twenty-six-year-old woman's body was dismembered and disposed of in a garbage dumpster behind a local restaurant. Police have yet to report any evidence that can lead them to any suspects. An autopsy is ongoing to pinpoint the cause of death but with the initial report, signs point to a possible case of torture…”
The mood shifts yet again. Everyone stares at the screen, but the words no longer reach anyone's ears. Nobody recognized the girl identified on the screen but it's still unnerving when something so tragic and cruel happens in the city one lives in. Being close in age to the victim just makes it even rougher.
Eren is the first to look back — specifically at the girls.
You all seem lost in thought. His gaze flits in your direction. You're just as distant, nursing your glass in your hands as you chew on your bottom lip. He turns to Mikasa.
“Was that Levi earlier?”
Eren's voice pulls Mikasa from her thoughts.
She nods.
“Who's Levi?” you ask.
“My uncle,” she explains. “He texted me not to go out at night for a while. They didn't say if this was a serial killer but I don't think he wants to take any chances as long as the culprit is out there.” In a lower voice she adds, “he's in the police.”
You slowly nod, then suddenly remember where you are.
“I need to get home fast, then.”
Your eyes land on the digital clock beside the TV. It's well past the time to catch the last bus. You swipe your phone from your purse to look up cab numbers, unaware of the nervous glances exchanged all around you.
“I don't think you should leave now.” Eren stops you from dialing the first cab company from your search results, his eyes wide with concern. He doesn't realize his hand is holding onto your wrist until you look down at it.
He pulls away, embarrassed, but remains firm in his statement.
“Eren's right,” Connie agrees. He has a protective hand on Sasha’s shoulder. “Mind if we crash here tonight?” He directs his gaze at Armin.
“No need to ask. I'll bring out some blankets.”
It's two in the morning. A cluster of tired bodies sleeps peacefully on the living room floor. Lazy limbs stretch out and across someone else's. Light snores and rare mumblings are the only thing that disturbs the quiet.
The murder on the news had left everyone unsettled. Much so, that everyone felt inclined to sleep together in the same room. It didn’t do much for their comfort given the space, but it gave everyone a sense of safety.
Eren’s eyelids barely flutter open. They're so heavy, he wishes he could just ignore the uncomfortable fullness of his bladder. But he can't. Begrudgingly, he clumsily rises to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom, rubbing his temples with one hand and feeling around for any walls and furniture with his other while his eyes adjust to the darkness.
When he gets back, he catches sight of a lone figure sitting out on the small balcony outside of the kitchen.
It takes him a minute to rid himself of the extra warmth in his face. He takes a deep breath and quietly slides the door open to step out.
“Hey.”
You look up at him from your chair. Your knees are pressed against your chest, your arms wrapped around them for support as your cheek rests on top.
“Hi.”
“Is it okay if I sit?”
You nod and proceed to face forward, resting your chin where your cheek used to be.
The night is pleasantly warm. You're wearing the sweats and shirt Armin lent you for the night.
Eren's gaze roams every shape of your side profile. It's the second time you've been alone together and he's racking his brain on what to talk about to balance out the way he's been staring at you all night. He doesn't want to give Armin another reason to tease him. His hands are sweaty and his cheeks start to warm at the reminder.
“Did I wake you?”
Your voice is gentle and sweet, but it startles him nonetheless.
“No,” he manages to say. He pauses. “How long have you been out here?”
You shake your head as you look up at the star-littered sky.
“Not long.”
He hums, mulling your answer over.
If you’re awake at this hour, not bothering to try going back to sleep, something must be weighing heavily on your mind, he reasons. That’s further proven by the way you’re shrinking into yourself, trying to take up as little space as you can. Not that he’s especially knowledgeable about you, but there’s a difference in how your quietness manifests itself now than during dinner. It’s comparable to the way you were after watching the news.
“Are you okay?”
He watches you hesitate to give him an answer. Your lips tremble, parting and pressing together a couple of times. It’s as if you’re willing to talk but the words are lodged in your throat.
“You can tell me.”
Still no answer.
“Is it because of the girl on the news?”
Finally, you look at him. Your brows twist with grief.
“I just can’t stop thinking about her. Her family must be devastated.”
All evening, Eren’s had a hard time holding your gaze. Mainly because he didn’t want to give himself away, but it’s also hard to admire someone when they’re looking directly at you. Once his racing heart finds a steadier rhythm, he finds it’s actually easy to lose himself in your eyes.
There’s a subtle glassiness to them — one he’d be more concerned about if he hadn’t noticed it as a natural part of you. Your eyes heavily conveyed every emotion, every little thought. And Eren suddenly felt compelled to learn how to read them.
The way you’ve presented yourself so far — gentle and cautious — gives you an aura of delicate maturity in the eyes of others. But for a brief moment, you seem small. Troubled, even.
“I know it’s selfish for me to be thinking about this, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll have anyone crying for me when I die. I don’t have many people,” you whisper.
It feels strange to Eren to suddenly feel a surge of courage when he’s been nothing but an awkward wreck around you since you met.
“You have us now.”
You don’t show yourself to be entirely convinced. In fact, there’s a hint of amusement shimmering in your eyes. But you appreciate his words no matter how empty they might turn out to be.
Eren hesitates to ask you the question that’s been gnawing at his brain for hours now. You’ve been sharing such a pleasant moment, that he hates to think he might ruin it all and end up losing his cool in the process.
“That stuff about your parents… is it true?”
It’s a leap of faith.
“You think I made it up?”
The raised eyebrow and the humorless smile that graces your lips take him by surprise, even more so than the firm tone of your voice.
“No, of course not!” He chokes on his words, frantic he might have offended you.
But you laugh, and it soothes him instantly.
“Relax, I was just teasing you.” You look away, warmth pooling at your cheeks upon your failed attempt to be funny. “It’s true, by the way. I’m a child of neglect.”
A heavy sigh pushes past your lips.
He doesn't pick up on your embarrassment — he’s much too focused on his own.
Despite the bitterness lacing your gentle voice, he can’t help himself from wanting to know more. It makes him anxious. Finding you attractive is besides the point. His mind is scrambling at any opportunity to get closer to you. He wants to keep talking. He wants to hear more about what worries you. He wants to stretch out the night and keep the conversation going — even if he’s caught off guard by your unpredictable teasing a few more times. He wants to know about your past. He wants to know you. But you kill off his chances when you suddenly change the course of the conversation.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” You look up at him with concern contorting your features. It takes everything in him not to let his gaze drift to your bottom lip that’s caught between your teeth to keep your nerves at bay.
“Huh?”
You clear your throat before explaining and fiddle with your hands as you do. You focus on the moon instead of him.
It’s quite cute for Eren to see you fidget for once.
“It's just that during dinner you barely talked and whenever I looked at you, you would look away,” you explain bashfully. “And then when we were doing the dishes together, you just felt a little awkward. I mean, I don’t expect you to be all chummy with me, but it was kind of like you were forcing yourself to talk to me.”
Eren wants to smack himself. He had no idea of the message he was sending all this time. All those averted gazes and suppressed smiles must have looked totally different from your end.
“I thought maybe you were uncomfortable with me around.”
Your voice is even softer than before. It might have to do with the people sleeping inside or maybe you're just feeling quieter than usual. Eren has no idea. But it's a nice sound, and his quickening heartbeat isn't lost on him.
The abrupt changes in his system are giving him whiplash. And it’s all because of you.
“I’m not,” he whispers. “I’m not uncomfortable.”
A deep shade of red gradually tints his cheeks, openly defying the pale blue light from the moon. His gaze shies away from you and settles on his lap, where he nervously rubs his sweaty palms just to give himself something to do. When his eyes slowly drift back to your face, he swallows hard.
It finally hits you.
Oh, you think.
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Skin Cage
Luke was desperate for a shit. He knew he’d never get home on time and he hated the idea of going into the bushes. As he rounded a corner to his relief he saw a public toilet set back slightly from the road. Generally these days they are all boarded up but he could see this one was open. He rushed in and saw that there were 3 cubicles but the one on the left and the right had a sign saying Out of Order and only the middle one seemed to be in use.
‘Thank God’ he said out loud. As he went to the cubicle he saw out of the corner of his eye two guys in jeans at the urinals but he couldn’t care what they might be doing as all he needed to do was have a crap. He shut the door and went to lock but the lock had been ripped off. Somehow he was able to sit on the loo and keep one foot pressed against the door.
After a few minutes he felt so relieved as he wiped himself clean. What he hadn’t noticed as he sat down and got on with his shit was that on each side of the cubicle was a hole in the partition. As he started to stand to hoist up his boxers he could see a shadow through one of the holes and a pair of shiny boots facing him on the other side of the partition. Seconds later a hard long cock was being put through the hole. Luke had heard about Glory Holes and cruising in toilets but had never had the experience. Sometimes when he had heard guys talk about it he had found his own cock stirring in excitement. Now here he was with a good 8 inch dick all the way through the hole. The head was fully exposed, the foreskin pulled back. It was gleaming with some precum showing. Luke pulled his boxers down to reveal his own erect cock.
Suddenly he heard a voice on the other side.
‘What the fuck are doing mate. Me dick is there for a suck, get your mouth around and make sure you give me a bloody good blow job.’
Luke was at once scared but also so worked up at the command and seeing the prick waiting for his mouth. He got down on his knees, feeling the cold concrete pissed stained floor and tentatively put his hand around the cock.
‘Forget the fucking hand, gimme yer mouth.’
Still holding the end of the guys dick Luke put his mouth around the head and licked the precum.
‘Like the taste boy eh?’
Luke did like the taste and the smell of a prick that hadn’t been washed for a couple of days and he could taste some piss as well. He opened his mouth wider and let the cock slip down further into his throat. The size was perfect and there was no need to gag. He kept pushing his mouth further towards the partition until he was tight up against it with the guys cock all the way down.
‘You’ve done this before, boy, getting a cock all the way down that gob of yours. So start sucking. I want you to swallow all my cum. ‘
Luke slowly took his mouth back up the shaft savouring the smell of piss and let it guide itself back down. He was getting off on this this sleaze in a public toilet. Why had he never down this before. He was always afraid of cottaging but the thrill was so great.
‘Get yer mouth going up and down quicker mate, I’ve a load of spunk to get out of me balls.’
Hearing the guy sound so dirty made Luke slide his mouth ever faster up and down the shaft whilst keeping his hand firmly clenched at the opening. He could hear the guy grunting on the other side, and the more Luke sucked the more he could feel the precum in his mouth.
‘Yer a fucking horny little bastard,’ the guy said’ making me so ready mate. I’m about to explode my cum down yer throat.’
Luke could feel the guy pressing tight against the hole and he could feel the cock veins throbbing as he sucked.
‘Get ready boy its coming. Fuckin hell’ and with that as he pushed his cock back and forth against the hole so his balls erupted creamy cum all the way down Luke’s throat
‘Shit man that’s what I call cum. Yer fucking great boy.’
As Luke was wiping the cum off his chin he realised he had not wanked himself off and as he went to sit on the bog to masturbate he suddenly saw another rigid hard cock sliding through the hole on the other side and again a pair of shiny boots facing into the partition.
‘Hearin the noise of me mate coming boy, you can do the same for me. Sucking him was a good first but as you can see mine’s bigger and thicker and will just about choke yer fucking throat. Put yer hand round it first and feel the thickness and the size of these dick veins.’
Luke didn’t know what to do but seeing this massive dick being offered up to him made his cock so hard he thought he might cum without wanking
‘Lick me head first. I like the feel man before you gag.’
Luke let his tongue get covered in spit and slowly started on the head which was pink and shiny and like a helmet. Judging by the slit there would be a heap load of cum to swallow. Opening his mouth as wide as possible he started to let the cock enter his throat but at first the size was too much and he started gagging.
‘I told you boy. Relax a bit and you’ll find it goes in easier. Take yer time as I want to feel it go right to the back of your throat.’
Luke did as he was told and inch by inch he changed his breathing and the shaft went further and further in, sliding easily with all Luke’s spit which was spilling out his mouth and down his chin.
‘That’s better boy you’ve got the hang of it. Let me feel yer lips rubbing against this filthy partition. Let me feel as if it’s not there and your mouth is tight in against me pubes.’
Luke kept his hand over the end of the shaft so he could balance to take in the full length. He had never taken such a cock as this but its massiveness was such a turn on he wanted the full length. He was not going to miss out and this time his own load of spunk erupt. As he started to let his hand move up and down his own shaft so the need to take the full length of the guys cock was more desperate. He was sliding his mouth up and down the shaft quicker and quicker and as he did so he hand worked his own good sized dick.
‘I know yer fucking wanking boy I can hear your breathing but shit mate its making me so fucking ready and that mouth of yours is the best suck I’ve had in ages. I want you to come at the same time and hear your jism. Go on spunk it boy I’m ready.’
Luke could not contain it any longer and as his own cum shot out splatting against the partition so he let out a mighty orgasmic sound.
‘That’s it boy I’m coming now.’
Whilst Luke’s spunk was still hitting the partition so the guy let rip an avalanche of cum almost choking Luke who could not swallow quick enough with great wads spilling down his chin.
The guy withdrew his cock and the boots moved away. There seemed quietness as Luke took out his hankie to wipe his chin and the remainder of his own cum from his cock. He leant forward to pull up his trousers and that was the last he remembered as he blanked out as something hit his head with such force.
As Luke had stood up the two guys had kicked the door with their boots with full force smashing into Luke’s head.
The next thing Luke knew as he started to come round was that he felt cold and could hardly move his head. Slowly his eyes began to focus and open more. He firstly realised that he was totally naked and in a cage. The reason he could hardly move his head was that there was a hole in the cage that allowed his head through but was too small for him to remove it. The room he was in was dark and smelt of piss and damp. His hands were free but as his head was clamped there was very little he could do. As he looked down there was a bowl of water that he could just reach to drink out of.
‘Christ my head is so sore. I must be bruised to hell and I can feel blood in my mouth. Where the hell am I? What have I done to deserve this? Someone has to hear me.’
Luke started shouting at the top of his voice
‘Help me, help me will someone come and get me out of this?’
After shouting for several minutes and starting to feel hoarse, there was a blinding light. For several seconds he could see nothing and before he could open his eyes there was a thundering noise over his head.
As he opened his eyes slowly the noise was as loud as ever. With the head still looking down he made out a pair of shiny black high laced boots. He felt he had seen them before, yes that was it he saw them under the partition in the toilet block.He was just able to look upwards as to what was going on above him. A guy with a baseball bat was banging it over the bars, and thumping the bat up and down, grinning from one side of his face to the other.
‘Wakey wakey you cock sucker.’
‘Stop it, stop it please’ Luke screamed over the noise, his ear drums almost bursting.
‘Oh we have a nice little gay guy here don’t we. Stop it please,’ the guy said trying to imitate Luke.
‘Why have you done this to me?’
Another guy in the corner said
‘Well you gave us a great blow job we thought we would keep you a bit longer. But you need to change your look a bit mate.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘A bit preppy for us.’
Luke looked more closely at the two guys. He had noticed as he rushed in for his shit that both were wearing boots and jeans but had not looked enough.
The two guys were in tight fitting bleachers as if the bleachers had been sprayed on they were so tight and not just their legs and thighs but their cocks and balls showed a huge package stuffed down one leg. They both had their high boots , one with red laces and one with yellow. Both had braces to match their laces with black Fred Perry T shirts. One wore a green A1 jacket the other was black Their heads were shaved and one had a scar all the way down one cheek. Skin 1 and Skin 2.
‘Time to leave you in the dark for a bit but don’t worry we will be back every hour.’ And with that they turned off the lights and left locking the door.
Sure enough one hour later they came back each with their baseball bat and started thumping them across the bars of the cage
‘Stop stop for Gods sake stop.’ Luke screamed
‘You need to get used to this boy.’
Out they went and sure enough every hour they came back and ran the bats across the bars.
‘This is fucking great. The boy hates it.’
After 8 hours of this they returned again and started up.
‘I’m fucking loving this mate,’ Skin 1 shouted as he beat the bars
‘Fucking stop that fucking noise now.’ Luke shouted.
The skins stopped immediately.
‘Now that’s what we want to hear, a big of aggro in the voice. Say it again.’
‘Fucking stop it.’
‘Good boy.’
‘Now what’s this I see boy. A nice big piss puddle you have made.’
Luke hadn’t noticed but the noise had made him so worked up that he had peed himself and his piss was in a puddle under him.
‘Yer luck’s in boy. We just downed a few cans of lager and both of us are desperate for a piss. Seeing you’ve just pissed yerself then you won’t mind some of ours. A right golden shower is coming your way.’
Skin 1 and 2 unzipped their bleachers and pulled out their cocks. Luke could see they were the two pricks he had so enthusiastically sucked earlier. They stood in front of Luke and took aim at his head with their cocks.
‘Fuck I have a right load of piss here for you mate.’
And with that they both let rip with a heavy stream of bright yellow piss aiming it at Luke’s head and face.
‘Drink it up boy. You loved our cum so swallow our piss.’
Luke could not move his head in the cage as a torrent of pee cascaded down his face. He had no option but to lick it as it poured over his lips. At first it tasted acidic but after some had gone down the back of his throat there was something about being a sub, unable to escape with so much piss that he found himself starting to swallow. The Skins seeing this made sure their stream was directed at his mouth.
‘He fucking loves it. As good as our cum eh boy? Shit look at his cock he’s getting a bloody hard on. Getting a bit more like us and Christ me cock’s starting a boner seeing him. Need to get rid of this pee first.’
Both the Skins shook their cocks and stuffed them back into their bleachers, Skin 1 having more difficulty as he was the one with the thick cock and now semi hard.
‘Got some work to do now. Go get the clippers mate.’
His mate went out the room and came back with a shaver, razor and shaving cream.
‘Your hair is now stinking of our piss so best for you if you get rid’
‘No please don’t do anything to my hair’
‘We’ll fucking do what we want. You ain’t got much option in that cage and don’t fucking shake your head while I have me razor on you.’
Skin 1 got down on his knees in front of Luke who knew he had to obey in his cage. He took the shaver and started on Luke’s head working from the back to the front. Luke could see his hair falling on to the floor and was helpless.
It seemed no time until most had been removed. Skin 1 then sprayed the shaving foam all over his head.
‘Need to get rid of all this fucking stubble you got there.’
Luke could feel the razor tight against his head and a couple of times felt the razor cut his scalp.
‘A couple of cuts wont do you any harm. In fact better for a skin.’
After half an hour Skin 1 sat back and looked
‘I’ve done a fucking great job there boy. Have a look. He walked over and picked up a mirror putting in front of Luke.
‘Oh my God I look just like the two of you.’
Fucking right mate what did you think. You’re gonna be one of us. Need to clean you up a bit. He walked over to the wall where a hose was hung on the wall. Unravelling he brought over to the cage and then walked back and turned on the water. He aimed the cold water at Luke at full power and Luke almost froze as the water splashed against him.
‘Stop please, I’m clean now.’
The water was turned off
‘So now we are gonna leave you for a while. Time to get dressed. Your clothes are on that chair. I’m gonna unlock the cage and let you out. We’ll lock the door so you won’t be getting out. Luke could feel the cage door’s padlocked being undone and the padlock that had made his headstuck in the round opening.
Luke felt he had no strength to do anything and just laid there at the open cage door.
‘See you later boy’ the Skins said as they went out locking the door
Luke slowly clambered out the cage feeling stiff and slightly disorientated. As he stood up, naked he saw clothes piled on the chair and in front a pair of high lace up boots, It all looked the same gear as the skins.
Luke was cold from the blasting of water and wanted to get into the clothes quickly no matter what he might look like. At the top of the pile was a black Fred Perry T shirt like the other two which was a tight fit but showed off his torso well. They must have had some idea of his size. Next the bleachers. He saw they had a zip back and front. As he pulled them on they were tight to his legs and thighs and as he pulled them up it felt good, so good that his cock started hardening. He pushed it down the inside of his leg making a large obvious bulge. The more it rubbed against the bleached denim the more it got bigger. He attached the black braces which seem to pull up the bleachers even more . ‘Christ what a package I have’ Luke thought staring down at his fully hard cock. He then pulled on the thick white socks which came up to almost his knees and sitting on the chair he forced his feet into the shiny black boots carefully lacing up as though he had done it many times before. Finally he put on the A1 green bomber jacket. He felt so great.
‘Where was that mirror?’ He picked it up from the floor and made sure he ran it over his body so he could see himself. Something suddenly snapped inside him. ‘I’m fucking Luke the skin.’ He had a large bruise down one side of his face from the cubicle door being rammed into him but now it made him even more like a fucking rough skin. “No more fucking pansy boy for me. I’m up for some action and time those guys got what’s coming to them. He rubbed his crotch examining the bulge. Shit man just hope I can pull this out for my revenge.’
He heard the key turn in the door and jumped back behind it ready for anyone to walk in and be dealt with. Skin 2 marched into the room expecting to see Luke wandering around the space. Luke closed in behind quickly putting his arm around Skin 2 in complete stranglehold, the guy chocking and unable to release the vice like grip. His head was skewered back and he was desperately trying to get air as the grip tightened. The guys arse was tight against Luke’s boner and the slight rubbing made his dick even harder.
‘Not so much a fucking boss now are you. What did you expect doing all this to me and making me dress like you. You wanted a fucking skin and let me tell you mate you’ve got one and one much harder than you. Can’t talk can you. I’d like to fucking strangle you.’ Skin 2 could only splutter and was at the point of passing out.
‘Don’t fucking think about it mate’ Luke shouted as he pushed Skin2 towards the cage. With his other arm he pushed the skins head downwards until it was pressed against the bars of the cage.
‘Gonna make a nice imprint of these bars on that fucking face of yours.’ He then ran the arm over the guys arse.
‘Nice bum you’ve got there and you know what that for. Right a good fuck and I see you have a rear zip so you’ve had it done before. This time my cock will split that arse of yours.’
Luke quickly undid the zip and the bleachers immediately parted revealing a nice dark hairy arse. Luke gave it a couple of sharp slaps making the skin wince with pain.
‘Shit you little fairy that ain’t painful’ and with that he slammed his hand with full force over his buttocks. ‘I wanna see that arse of yours tingling red for my cock.’
‘So you ain’t moving much. What that means it you do wanna be fucked. Now get your legs nice an wide.’
As the skin did what he was told Luke undid his zip and pulled out his cock which was straining inside as it was so hard.
‘To make it easier for you let me gob some nice spit down my shaft’ Luke said and he released a huge gob onto his cock and then he rubbed it.
‘That’s nice nothing better than a slimy cock ready to fuck.’
With one hand firmly of the skin’s back keeping him fully bent over the cage, Luke used his other hand to direct his cock into the crack and loosening up the hole with a couple of his fingers.
‘Christ that hole of yours is desperate for my dick and by the feel of it you have had a few cocks up there in the past.’
Luke took both hands and spread the skins cheeks apart ready to ram his cock in. The hole widened and Luke’s head slipped in the skin letting out a squeal of pain.
‘Fuck it man it’s not even all the way in. Now this is. With one great push Luke pushed his cock all the way up to the hilt..
‘Nice and juicy that hole of yours. Hope for your sake there’s no shit in there. Can you feel my pubes right up against that hairy arse of yours?’
The skin squealed but a squeal of delight.
‘Knew you’d love that you fucking little whore.’
As Luke said that the door opened and Skin 1 walked in.
‘Well you’ve changed you hungry skin. You look the part. Knew you would when you walked in to that bog. You are right up there mate so let’s see you get the rythmn going and fuck him hard.’ As he said this he was rubbing his crotch which was now half way down his legs and bulging thick.
‘I remember that dick of yours. Go on get it out and let’s see you wank while I roger your mate.’
‘We’re all mates now boy.’
‘or a start you can bloody well stop calling me boy if that’s the case.’
‘Ok man give it to him
‘Seeing that meaty cock of your mate has me even more ready to shoot my load inside him.’
‘Then go on really slide it in and out.’
Luke started ramming his prick in and out, faster and faster his breathing rapidly increasing, skin 2 grunting more and more, while skin 1’s hand was working his shaft faster having let a big gob of spit grease him up.
‘Ride him man, I’m ready’
With one final push Luke shot his hot spunk in fierce spurts right up Skin 2 arse. Skin one arched back and sprayed the floor with his cum. As Luke let Skin 2 move the bloke had come in his bleachers with a great wet patch showing and some cum oozing through.
‘That’s what I call a fuck man’ Skin 2 said.
‘You’ll have to stay here mate’ he said to Skin 2, ‘you cannae come out with all that cum showing on yer bleachers.’
‘So man stuff that dick back it but shake off the left overs first. We have a job to do.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Follow me we have to go and do some cottaging.’
The two went back to the same toilet where it had first all happened. This time Luke and Skin 1 stood facing the urinal. Skin 1 moved his hand over to rub Luke’s cock and it was no time until his shaft was a full boner.
‘That’s you ready now. You can go first.’
As he said this, so a young guy walked in and quickly looked at the two blokes at the urinal and went into the middle cubicle and shut the door.
‘I’m ready ‘Luke said unzipping his bleachers, ‘just hope he is’
and the two walked into the left and right cubicle.
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Can you do a story where fem reader is having sex dreams about leon and she's so embarrassed to look or talk to him she gets so flustered around him
While they were taking a rest in abandoned cabin Leon hears fem reader dreaming about him
He finds it really arousing hearing her say his name in a desperate way like she wants him so bad
He ends up waking her up and she feels embarrassed but they end up having sex
(つ ͡ꈍ ͜ʖ̫ ͡ꈍ ) Ohohoho I like the way you think anon.
~ Waking Dreams ~
Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤 Masterlist
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Leon
Tags: NSFW, Sexsomnia, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Wet Dreams, slight dubcon/power dynamics, PWP
Word Count: 2.6K
The dreams started a week before the mission, and you hated it. You couldn’t close your eyes without seeing those glistening muscles or his hard, throbbing – nope don’t even think about it. Every night you woke up covered in sweat with your hand in your soaked sticky panties, stewing in feelings of shame.
This wasn’t right, Leon was your partner for Christ’s sake, and now you couldn’t even look him in the eye. Of course you had feelings for him, but you ignored them knowing it wasn’t professional to hit on or go out with your mission partner.
Not that your current behavior was that professional - sitting as far as possible from him during meetings, ducking out of rooms as fast as you could. It was worse when he did manage to get close enough to speak, you’d blush, stutter, and forget very basic things like how to hold a coffee mug causing the hot liquid to spill all over his desk. God you felt stupid.
You were just pent up from repressed feelings and a lack of getting laid. This would pass. Sure it would pass. This had to pass. At least that’s what you’d convinced yourself. You had it all planned out, you’d go to the bar with some friends, find a hot guy, fuck like a rabbit until the sun came up - then bam - it would be out of your system and everything would be back to normal. At least that was the plan until the chief announced that you and Leon would be going on a surprise mission to Spain.
“Are you ok?”
“What?”
“I said, are you ok? You’ve been acting weird, are you sure you’re up for the mission?”
“Yeah Leon, everything is fine.”
If there’s one thing you were glad for it’s that Leon was painfully awkward at social interactions. Everyone in the world knew you had a crush on Leon, except Leon. You were lucky he thought something was wrong instead of putting the obvious together.
The mission was off to a rough start. No one had warned either of you about the infected villagers which seemed to be everywhere. Eventually, after fending off what felt like hundreds of them, the two of you were able to rest in an old cabin you’d found.
Inquisitively you turned the knob on the sink and running water came out. “Hey, I’m going to check if the water works in the bathroom as well.” Leon nodded at you dismissively, as he checked over his weapons. Relief washed over you when the dingy shower worked. It wasn’t the best bathing experience you’d ever had, but it felt great to get the sweat and grime off of your body. Once you were dried and back into your clothes, minus the tactical gear, you kept watch while Leon took his chance to clean up.
When he was done you both sat at the wooden table in the center. “We should probably try to get some sleep.” He suggested. “I normally don’t like to stop moving but we both are more exhausted than we expected.”
You dreaded this suggestion for obvious reasons.
“No I’m okay, you can go ahead and sleep though.”
“We both need sleep, go lay down, I'll keep the first watch.”
“Leon, I just don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Look, I'm not going to lay down. So just stop–”
“First you spend all your time avoiding me and now you’re arguing with me? Mission partners or not I’m still your superior. Go. Lay. Down. That’s an order.” He snapped, pointing at the bed.
He’d never pulled rank like that before, in fact, he’d never been upset with you before either. You couldn’t argue so you did as you were told making your way to the bed before lying down, falling asleep quicker than expected due to sheer exhaustion.
Leon had decided to survey the outside of the cabin just to ensure you were really alone and safe, he figured he could pick and grind down some herbs while he was at it. There was not a person or thing to be found which gave him a brief sense of relief as well. As he was working to pluck red and green plants from the ground he heard your voice calling his name.
He approached the cabin slowly, worried you were in trouble, not wanting to startle any intruders he creaked the door open before sliding in. He scanned the room right to left, no one - so then why? Oh.
Leon watched you through the low light of the flames. You were still lying down, eyes shut softly with your right hand tucked under the pillow. Your left hand had worked its way into your pants, while you squirmed and moaned his name. “Please Leon, m’sorry for being bad, please let me cum….”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat. At first he thought perhaps you knew he’d stepped out and were pleasuring yourself. But to him? He dared to take a few steps forward and whispered your name. When you didn’t respond he got louder. Your sleeping form groaned and rolled over to the side, hand still stuffed in your bottoms - the noises and movement stopped though. That’s when Leon realized you’d been asleep.
He couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed so he opted to pretend he didn’t see it at all. Instead he focused on grinding the herbs down at the table with the pocket pestle. Though a few moments later he heard it again, the soft whimpering of his name. He dared his eyes to look up and sure enough you were back to it.
He watched as your hand struggled against the restrictive fabric of your tactical pants, the way your other hand slipped up your shirt fondling your own breast, eyes still peacefully closed. His cock twitched in his own pants at the display.
‘Well that explained a lot about her recent behavior.’ He thought to himself, he knew you’d been acting strange, but he never thought that might be why. In fact, when Hunnigan had mentioned you crushing on Leon he even brushed it off. Now he was thinking she may have been on to something.
He stood making his way over to the bed, not quite sure what he was going to do next. He wanted to touch you and he wanted to relieve the aching erection that was now at full attention in his own pants. Under different circumstances he would’ve thought this through more - what if you were just having a dream, it didn’t mean you really liked or wanted him - but every sweet moan of his name was like a hypnotist pulling someone under. Guess there was only one way to find out.
He reached down and gently brushed his fingers over your collar bone, dragging them down slightly. You stirred softly, he continued running his fingers down between your clothed breasts to where they met the skin of your belly before running them back up until he was touching your cheek.
The sensation on your face caused you to wake up a little, though still groggy. You made out a form hazily standing next to the bed. “Leon?” And then came the realization of your current predicament.
“Oh god I wasn’t… I didn’t… you didn’t” Your still sleep soaked brain couldn’t formulate the proper words to ask to explain anything as heat rose to your cheeks. You didn’t even have enough brainpower to think about pulling your hands out of their lewd positions.
Leon didn’t respond to your blabbering though, he leaned down close as he ran his hand down and placed it over the clothed hand in your pants. “Poor baby, you’re never going to satisfy yourself like that. Too restrictive, too empty.” He daringly undid the button and zipper of your tactical pants, giving your hand more space. “Want some help?”You didn’t respond, feeling a pang of heat go right to your pussy at his words. You’d never heard his voice sound so husky before either.
“I asked you a question.” He said, giving a light tap to your hand, causing it to rub against your clit, you jolted slightly from the sensation. “Do you want me to help you? It certainly sounded like you did.”
“Y-yes.” You moaned when he brought his hand lower to squeeze your thigh.
“Hmm, I don’t know. You haven’t been very nice to me recently, barely talking to me, running away from me, arguing with me. Maybe you don’t deserve my help.” He brought his lips down to place a kiss on your neck, sucking a soft bruise into your skin, chuckling when you squirmed. “How about we practice using our big girl words. Why don’t you say you’re sorry and try asking me really nicely, I might just be convinced.”
Your body was on fire and your clit throbbed, leaving you defeated to his whims. “Please Leon? I’m sorry for being bad, I’ll be good from now on, please just make me cum.”
“Good girl.” He cooed, capturing your lips with his, biting your bottom one as he pulled away letting it slip from between his teeth with a trail of saliva connecting you still. Leon reached down to pull your hand out of your pants and the other from your shirt. He tugged your pants and underwear down until they were just above your knees, restricting your leg movements. “Stay just like that for me, just for a moment.
He stood straight up making quick work of his own tactical gear, tossing them onto the kitchen table and kicking his boots off before crawling over you on the bed. He leaned forward to kiss you again, dragging one hand along your body until it reached your sopping wet pussy. He loved the way you whimpered into his mouth when he circled your clit with one of his fingers agonizingly slow, before dipping one finger into your hole.
“Shit baby, you’re so wet already just from a dream and a little heavy petting?” He sunk another finger inside while he worked at your clit with his thumb. “I bet that’s not the first time you’ve dreamt of me like that, is it?” He sped up his movements as he placed wet kisses along your jaw and neck. “C’mon baby, be honest. If you don’t I’ll stop” He curled his fingers inside of you against that special spot, leaving you breathless for a moment.
“No, please don’t stop . . . yes I’ve been having these dreams all week.” He liked your response, earning you the pleasure of him speeding up his thumb. The coiling heat in your core was wound up so tight you felt you could come undone any moment.
“All week? Oh no wonder you’ve been acting so strange. Got a crush on your partner huh? I bet you were picturing me bending you over my desk when you spilled that coffee, weren’t you?”
“Oh god yeah…Lee I’m gonna -”
“Go ahead baby, cum for me. Cum all over my fingers.”
The coil finally snapped as waves of pleasure rocked throughout your body, he kept his movements slow and steady working you through your orgasm. When he pulled his hand out, he gave a soft slap to your overstimulated clit, loving the whine you let out.
“No wonder you’ve been in such a bad mood. My poor sweet little partner is stuck dreaming about me every night, never satisfied. Tell me baby, are you satisfied now?”
Daringly you shook your head. “Please Lee, need more.”
“More? Bein’ greedy Sweetheart, but I’m in a generous mood. Tell me exactly what you want or I won’t be able to help.”
“Need to be stretched out around your cock - please.” You begged him, eyes focused on the bulge in his pants.
“Need my cock to make you feel better? How could I say no when you’re so sweet about it.” He moved to slide your pants and underwear completely off before helping you sit up, switching positions so he was the one lying down on the bed. “If you need it so badly, baby, then come get it.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice as you leaned forward, working off his belt and the buttons of his pants, tugging his underwear down slightly so you could free his throbbing erection. You had to admit the real Leon was far better than dream Leon. He was larger than you imagined and the tip was a pretty pink with pearls of precum leaking out.
Another time you’d love to know what it would taste like in your mouth - for now you were on a mission. You gave him a few pumps with your hand before crawling over him. You lined up the fat head of his cock before sinking down onto it, earning a moan from the man below you.
“Fuck baby, you are tight.” He reached out a hand and held your hip to help balance you. You let out a sigh of relief as the stinging stretch ebbed into a dull pleasure before you began to bounce up and down. With each movement the tip of him hit your cervix in a delightful mix of pain and pleasure.
“God Lee….so deep….you’re so deep…feels so good.” He brought his free hand up to place against your stomach intensifying the feeling. Each movement had you dripping all over him, he knew there’d be a wet spot left on his pants, but he didn’t really care at the moment. Your cunt felt too good to worry about anything right now.
“That’s right baby, ride me just like a good girl.”
You could already feel yourself getting close again each time he rubbed that special spot inside you that had you seeing stars. Your legs started to feel more and more like jelly the closer you were getting, losing your rhythm.
“Lee - can’t…much longer.”
“Shit, I’m close too, don't worry I got you.” He held your hips with both hands now and held you until you stopped your movements. He gave you a moment to relax before he thrusted upwards into you, using your hips as leverage. “Go head, touch yourself f’me.”
You rubbed your clit while he bucked into you, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he was close to his own high, each movement caused obscene squelching noises. A few more circles around your clit and you pussy clamped down on him as you tossed your head back, basking in the pleasure of your second orgasm. That’s all it took for Leon to snap, pulling your hips down onto him with a bruising grip as he shot hot cum into you, rocking you slightly while he rode out his own orgasm.
Once you had control of your consciousness again you rolled off of him to lay beside him on the outer side of the bed, needing to catch your breath. You both sat in silence for a while, just basking in the moment.
Leon was the first to speak. “So, how about once we get home I take you out to dinner and you can tell me more about these dreams you’ve been having?”
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Yeah I think I am. You wanna go on a date with me?”
“You know? I think I do, actually.”
“Great. Now get dressed and stand watch so I can take a nap.” He said pushing you gently out of the bed. You rolled your eyes and groaned before putting your pants back on, taking a seat at the table.
#Leon Kennedy x Reader#Leon Kennedy x You#Leon Kennedy x Y/N#Leon S Kennedy x Reader#Leon S Kennedy x You#Leon S Kennedy x Y/N#Leon Kennedy#Leon S Kennedy#Leon Scott Kennedy#Resident Evil#Resident Evil 4#Resident Evil 4 Remake#RE4R#RE4R Leon#Resident Evil Fanfiction#Fanfiction#x reader#fem!reader#female reader#reader insert#oneshot#Nexys#Requests#Requests are open#Ask#Anon
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