#He’s just a little guy and he’s been through so much
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MAKE HER REGRET IT
A/N: i was really in the mood for some smut and the neighbors trope popped into my head, so here we are!
WORD COUNT: 4.1k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry, your freshly divorced, insanely hot neighbor needs your help: you have to pretend to be his new girlfriend when his ex-wife comes over, however your little stunt outdoes your expectations in a lot of ways.
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It's a basic instinct for you at this point to look up at the balcony whenever you’re approaching your apartment building. However you’re not looking at yours, but the one next to yours that belongs to one hot, freshly divorced guy who moved in next door about two months ago.
You remember the morning the moving truck appeared and you knew someone was taking the vacant apartment beside yours. You just arrived back from your morning run and you jumped right into guesses about who it will be. Maybe someone your age? A girl you can go to yoga with? Or a sweet old lady you can have tea with on warm afternoons? Hopefully not a noisy family, because the walls are way too thin to endure the screaming of a child.
Then you saw him. Carrying a heavy looking box up the stairs, a simple white shirt stretching on his torso, tattooed arms flexing under the weight of the box, you knew you were fucked the first time you saw Harry Styles.
It took you no time to lurk over the next day and introduce yourself as his neighbor.
“If you need suggestions for coffee spots around the neighborhood, I’m your person,” you smiled at him charmingly as he stood in his doorway in gray sweats and a black t-shirt, hair messy but so delicious, it was screaming for your fingers to run through his locks.
“I will definitely keep that in mind. I can offer to fix anything around your apartment, I’m kind of a handyman,” he chuckled and your knees almost buckled hearing his creamy british accent.
Fate played on your hand, because you kept running into each other so it didn’t take long for you to go out for a coffee run together and it was smooth sailing from then. You learned about how he just got divorced, his wife cheated on him and he found out on their second anniversary, tragic story and you still can’t quite understand how any woman could cheat on a man like him. You practically drool every time you catch a glimpse of him arriving back from a run in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tanned skin glistening from sweat. You definitely love to move out to the balcony around the time he can be expected to appear in the late afternoon, you watch him stretch and breathe heavily and the sight alone makes you break a sweat as well, but for a whole different reason.
You’ve been trying to flirt with him every possible occasion, but you also make sure you don’t come off too pushy. After all he just got out of a marriage, it must be hard on him to recover from being cheated on. There’s also a slight age difference between the two of you, not that dramatic, but that eight years could easily be a deal breaker for him, so you’ve been playing it safe.
When you’re lying in bed late at night and sleep is not coming to you, you can’t help but think of how he is on the other side of the wall, you imagine him sleeping without a shirt, maybe thinking about you the way you like to think of him… But it’s all just a fantasy, one you fancy very much.
The door to his balcony is open so you know he is home, but he is not out. You take your time walking up the stairs, your legs are definitely tired from the run you just had and just when you reach your floor Harry’s front door swings open and you stop, watching him walk over to your door. He didn’t notice you, so you stay still and watch him take a deep breath as he lifts his fist up to knock, but then it falls back to his side and he shakes his head, stepping backwards before returning to his spot on your doormat and that’s when you decide to put him out of his misery.
“Are you out of sugar, neighbor?” you ask, slowly walking towards him. Harry spins around with a stunned expression.
“Oh, I didn’t–I didn’t see you.” You catch his gaze running down your body and legs and you’re thankful you decided to wear your shortest shorts.
Playing with your keys in your hands, you finally reach him.
“What’s up?”
“Um… I have a bit of a situation on my hands and you might be able to help me.”
Unlocking the door you push it in and gesture for him to follow you inside.
“Do tell me.”
Rounding your way into the kitchen you step to the fridge to grab some water. Harry hesitantly follows you and stops by the kitchen counter.
“So, I talked to Rory this morning,” he starts. You’ve heard enough about Rory, his ex wife to know that if she’s involved, it’s for sure something messy. “You know that painting in my living room?” You nod. “Well, she insists it’s hers, because a friend of hers painted it, but I was the one who paid for it. Whatever. She’s been trying to get me to give it to her and honestly I’m over it so I gave in. She is picking it up today.”
“When will the part where I can help come?”
“Right here,” he chuckles nervously. “We got into a fight, no surprise. She screamed at me over the phone and told me I’ll die alone because no one can put up with my shit.”
You need to force yourself to swallow the bitterness in your mouth. That woman sounds very much like the spawn of the devil, because who would say that to anyone? Especially to Harry? Aside from being insanely hot you’ve also learned just how kind, passionate and funny he is, basically the whole deal. Rory is the biggest loser in history for letting go of a man like him.
“One thing followed the other and I just… Um, I told her that I have someone.”
The light bulb switches on in your mind, because you already know where this is heading. And you like it, very much.
“I don’t know what got into me, but I told her she can meet my alleged girlfriend when she picks up the painting so she can see herself that I’m not the loser she thinks I am. And… as you might now, I do not have anyone…”
“You want me to be your fake girlfriend,” you finish for him, saving him from having to say it out loud. You can see just how awkward he is, having to ask you for such a thing.
“Basically, yeah. Only if you don’t mind being part of this shitshow. I understand if you find it weird and I don’t expect you to–”
“When should I be over at yours?” you simply ask and watch his eyes go wide.
“Y-You will do it?”
“Sure, sounds fun. Besides, I’m curious to see the stupidest woman on earth,” you add smirking and he finally lets out a relieved laugh as well.
“Thank you so much, Y/N. Really, I owe you big time. She’ll be here in about two hours.”
“Perfect. I’ll be there.”
For the next two hours, you do everything you can to bring out the hottest version of yourself. Hair, makeup, dress, everything is on spot when you step out of your apartment and walk over to Harry’s door, ringing the bell.
When the door swings open and Harry sees you his mouth hangs open, giving you that one last ego boost you need to be the best possible fake girlfriend ever.
“Satisfied with your girlfriend?” you ask, tilting your head.
“I-I uh–Yeah! I’m… yes.”
“Can I go inside then?” you ask with a chuckle and he steps aside in a hurry.
“Sorry, yeah come inside.”
“So what’s the plan?” you ask, walking into his living room and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Harry follows, but he takes the armchair across you and you can tell he is still struggling with not ogling you, especially your exposed legs and deep cleavage the dress teases him with.
“I don’t… I have no idea, I have never done this before.”
“I have.”
“Really?”
“Just once, in college. One of my friends broke up with a girl who did not take it well and I was his fake girlfriend for a week to get her to stop harassing him. It worked.”
“Then… I trust you with anything.”
“What’s the goal?”
Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, as if he is embarrassed to say what’s on his mind.
“Harry, say it. I’m happy to help with anything.”
“I want to make her regret it.”
“Regret what she said?”
“Regret everything,” he corrects and when he looks you in the eye a shiver runs down your spine from the determination that’s behind his green irises.
“Consider it done,” you smile at him devilishly.
At your suggestion you both take a shot to ease your nerves and make it easier to lie. It seems to loosen him just enough that he doesn’t look like he is about to attend an interrogation.
And then the bell rings.
“Show time,” you smile at him and as he walks over to the door you take your place on the couch again.
You hear the door open and then a female voice mixes with Harry’s before the footsteps follow. Harry comes into view first, but then Rory steps out from behind him and you see the pure shock in her eyes when she finally spots you.
“Oh, hi!” you smile at her almost disgustingly sweetly as you stand from the couch and walk closer. “You must be Rony. I’m Y/N.” You hold out a hand for her and watch as her mouth twitches when she hears you mess her name up.
“Rory,” she sassily says and shakes your hand at last. “So you’re the… girlfriend.” The disgust in her tone is apparent, she is not even trying to hide it and it just makes it way more enjoyable.
“Yes and you must be the cheating ex-wife.”
Harry coughs beside you, he was not expecting you to be this blunt, but the look on Rory’s face is priceless, because she can’t deny what she is. Moving closer to Harry you wrap an arm around his waist and though at first he freezes at your closeness, he is quick to recover and join in on the act, his arm finding your waist as well.
“The painting is over there, just take it and let’s get over with it, alright?” Harry nods towards the painting he already took off the wall, now it’s leant against the console table that’s been underneath it.
“You didn’t even wrap it?” she scoffs. How am I supposed to take it like this?”
“Rory, I’m not a fucking gallery. You wanted the painting, take it.”
“It’s gonna be ruined if I just put it into my car like this!” she argues.
“That’s none of my business.”
“Harry, this is so not okay! I can’t–”
“Jesus, Rory fine! I think I have some bubble wrap,” he grunts, heading into his bedroom to find something to wrap the painting in, leaving the two of you alone.
Rory gives you another long, dirty look, as if you were the woman Harry cheated on her with when she is the culprit of this mess here.
“So how long have you been together?” she then asks, pretending like she is just chit chatting, but you know she is eager to know everything about you.
“A little over a month now. You know, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but Harry is just the perfect guy and I couldn’t stay away from him.”
“Oh, he is not that perfect, little girl.”
It’s obvious she tried to derogate you by calling you a little girl, she must be around the age of Harry, not more than thirty-six for sure, but she can’t find anything to use against you other than the fact that you’re clearly in your twenties. How mature.
“I know. But everything he can give me makes it worth it. And the sex, ah!”
She gives you a puzzled look. You knew this would stir her up, Harry mentioned how distant they grew in the last few months and sex wasn’t the same anymore. Looking at the timeline she must have started her affair around that time and Harry couldn’t perform the way he otherwise could because she wasn’t open to him anymore. It was a vicious cycle, but you also know Rory is the kind of woman who must have humiliated him because of that. Harry never said, but you just feel that she criticized his sexual performance when she left him even if it all happened because of her.
And now hearing that he is giving his all to another woman is definitely something that can drive her nuts.
“Oh please, he sucks in bed,” she scoffs.
“Not with the right partner. He is so good, I honestly don’t know how you could let go of him.”
“He couldn’t make me cum for months!”
“That’s unfortunate. I get an orgasm basically after every meal. He is so good at it, honestly, it’s like he just wants to please me every possible moment. I mean, I can’t remember a morning when I didn’t wake up with his head between my legs, he loves quickies, I have to sanitize the kitchen counter like twice a day.” You let out a chuckle and just watch as her face grows redder while staring at the kitchen counter, raging jealousy swirling in her mind for sure. It’s clearer than daylight that she didn’t cheat on him because he wasn’t manly enough, this woman is simply a stupid loser who couldn’t appreciate what she had, maybe panicked that she can’t mess around with others and then simply chose to ruin everything.
You’re more than happy to remind her what she lost.
“Alright, this is all I got,” Harry emerges from the bedroom with some bubble wrap he probably had left from moving, but when he sees you and Rory staring each other down, he stops. But before he could speak up, you decide to push that knife into Rory’s chest as your final move.
Stepping over to Harry you push yourself up against him, he drops the bubble wrap and his hands grab you by the waist instantly, though you see confusion in his eyes before you take his face in your hands and pull him closer, lips pressing against his hungrily.
It’s not a sweet, shy first kiss. This is the perfect show off, messy, passionate, full of tongue and eagerness as you practically devour each other. For a bit you forget about the show you’re putting up and it’s your real desire you’ve been fighting for weeks now. Every time you try to pull back Harry just keeps demanding more and you happily give him what he wants. He bites into your bottom lip when one of his hands moves down to your ass, giving it a not-at-all shy squeeze, making you moan into the kiss.
It feels like it takes forever for you to stop, when you open your eyes you’re met with Harry’s hungry eyes, his lips are slightly swollen and shiny from your kisses.
And then you remember you’re not alone.
“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you both!” Rory pops the bubble around you and when you turn to look at her, she is already grabbing the painting, not even bothering to wrap it.
“It was nice to meet you!” you call after her.
“Fuck you!” she repeats, marching towards the door and you’re just smirking like an idiot, pleased with yourself for pissing her off so badly.
Harry follows her to shut the door behind her and you let yourself bathe in the sweet victory you just earned.
“This went amazing, right? She was so mad, oh my God!” you laugh, but your smile quickly disappears when you realize the serious look on Harry’s face as he is walking back towards you.
Shit, maybe the kiss was too much. He didn’t want it and now he is pissed at you.
“Are you mad about the kiss? I-I’m sorry if it was too–”
The words die down on your lips when they crash against his again, his hand cupping the back of your head while the other returns straight to your ass, groping you so hard your whole body smashes against his.
Your mouth opens in surprise and it gives him the chance to push his tongue against yours, he is demanding, rough and so much more raw than what you imagined him to be like.
“What did you tell her?” he asks against your mouth, moving you around until the small of your back hits the kitchen counter. “What did you tell her that made her so pissed?” he demands, his hand already eagerly moving underneath your dress. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“I said, ah–I said I wake up every day with… your head between my legs, and… Oh fuck!” You’re losing your ability to speak your thoughts as his fingers start circling, the fabric of your underwear is so drenched, if you could think straight you might be embarrassed just how aroused he made you so fast.
“And?” he urges you to continue, but at the same time he pushes your underwear to the side and pushes two fingers into you without warning, making you gasp so loud that people on the street must have heard it through the open balcony door.
“A-and that you fuck me on the… the kitchen counter all the time.”
He curls his fingers inside you as he keeps talking.
“Then that’s what I’ll do to you now. Are you okay with that?” he asks and you nod eagerly as you hold onto his broad shoulders.
The next moment he pulls his hand back and you whine, feeling empty all of a sudden, but then he lifts you up and makes you sit on the counter, he lowers himself and places your legs over his shoulders with careful, but confident moves. You grab onto his hair as he pushes his head between your thighs and his mouth meets your clit.
“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you gasp out, tugging on his hair as he swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, his fingers teasing your hole again. Then they push into you and he sucks on your clit, making you see stars.
You imagined him to be skilled, but whatever it is he is doing to you, it feels out of this world and now you know you weren’t wrong when you praised him that much to Rory before.
You’re totally out of breath when he comes up, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on his tongue, your hands impatiently tug on his shirt to get rid of it. Soon the fabric lands on the tiled floor and you map out every inch of his hard chest with your palm and while you keep kissing like there’s no tomorrow, you faintly hear the zipper of his pants come undone.
You look him in the eyes when you reach down and take his hard length into your hands and you can’t hold back a gasp when you realize just how big he is.
“I know you can take it, baby,” he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth and you’re ready to take him right then and there, but he moves back, making you reach for him in panic. “Condom,” he says and you lean back onto your elbows with a sigh as you watch him disappear in his bedroom. You have just a few seconds you process that here you are, on top of Harry’s kitchen counter, with your dress bunched up around your waist, your drenched pussy on show, waiting to be fucked properly. You definitely did not expect this outcome when you woke up this morning, but you’re not complaining.
Then Harry appears and he is walking over to you, completely naked, his dick in his hands as he rolls the condom on while moving and you bite into your bottom lip, hoping to remember this view until the end of time.
When he reaches you again he simply curls his arms around your thighs and tugs on you so you get closer to the edge. His erection wedges between your wet folds and the tip pokes against your clit, making you clench around nothing.
“I have to admit, I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on this counter since the day I moved in and saw you for the first time.”
“Just on the counter?” you ask teasingly.
“Every surface of this fucking apartment,” he admits with no remorse.
“Make a list then and I’m more than happy to do them all. But let’s tick the counter off first.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.”
He reaches down and circles his thumb against your clit a bit before grabbing his dick by the base and dragging it up and down your cunt a few times before pushing the head in first, letting you adjust to his thickness first. When you claw at his chest he takes it as a sign to go deeper and he keeps pushing until you take his whole length, feeling fuller than ever before.
“I want to go hard,” he breathes out, staying still for now.
“Go hard then. I can take it,” you assure him, though you do have doubts feeling just how stretched out you are now.
“Of course you can. You’re my good girl,” he praises you and before you could get a word out, he pulls back and slams into you hard.
There are moments when you actually think you’re about to burst, Harry did not joke when he said he wants to go hard, his thrusts are fast and rough and he makes sure he buries his whole length into you every time he pushes into you. At one point he pulls your legs over his shoulders and it allows him to reach a point in you no one has before and it pushes you towards the edge rapidly. The counter is painfully hard underneath you, but you somehow forget about the pain and only focus on how hard Harry is railing into you. His stamina is incredible, your body already feels like goo and you’re not even doing the actual work.
“Harry, I’m so close,” you moan and his fingers dig deeper into your thighs at your words.
“Come around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze me.”
You cry out his name again, a tear rolling down your cheek, because you’re so desperate to let go. Harry moves a hand to where you meet and his thumb returns to your clit and that’s what throws you over the edge.
Your back arches and you squeeze around him uncontrollably, gasping for air as he ruthlessly keeps fucking into you.
“That’s it, baby. You look so fucking beautiful, coming on my cock.”
You can’t stop moaning as you ride out your orgasm. The last waves are washing over your body when his movements fall out of rhythm, he slams into you hard and he sucks on his breath before moaning out your name over and over again, pushing into you a few more times as he comes. He falls forward, his face burying into your heaving chest as he tries to catch his breath along with you. There’s a long minute of silent bliss, his cock is still inside you, his lips peppering soft kisses onto the skin that’s exposed on your chest while you’re mindlessly playing with his hair.
When he straightens up he pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting you again. He carefully helps you off the counter, but keeps his arms around you, because when your feet hit the floor you wobble.
Nuzzling your nose against his chest you take the cross pendant on his necklace between your teeth and pull back, looking him in the eyes.
“Don’t do that, or we’re moving to the next place on the list.”
Giggling you let go of it and push yourself up to steal a kiss.
“Give me some time to recover, but I’m all in to check out another place.”
“Jesus, I knew you’d be the death of me the moment I saw you,” he breathes out, before his mouth claims yours hungrily.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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When the Party’s Over pt.3
Part 1 Part 2
summary: you and sukuna are now dating, only you’re keeping it a secret but secrets eventually come out.
pairing: college! sukuna x college! fem reader
content MDNI: slight angst ?, bestfriends brother, frenemies, secret romance, soft sukuna, squirting,oral (m receiving) , unprotected sex, vaginal sex, riding, cum eating, fingering, fluff, aftercare, dacryphillia, oral choking, praise kink, overstimulation
This ended up being so fluffy, pls don’t beat me up. Soft sukuna just has me in a chokehold! Also this is my favorite smut I’ve written thus far!
Choso insisted on you coming over for a John Wick marathon, of course Yuki was there, which you didn’t mind. Yuki’s actually really nice to you and her music taste is so similar to yours, you’re constantly making eachother playlists and sending eachother songs you think the other would like. You’ve never had a girl friend so it’s nice.
You sit on the couch next to Yuji whose eyes widen everytime John fires his gun, while Choso and Yuki sit cuddled up on the other side of the sofa.
You have to admit, Johns incredibly sexy. You’d happily sit through four movies soley about him but your eyes keep drifting towards the stairs.
All you want to do is crawl into Sukunas bed and sleep but you can’t. You’re scared for Choso to find out, scared that it’ll ruin your friendship. Sukuna doesn’t care, he doubts Choso will give a shit and maybe he’s right but you’re not ready.
You and Sukuna have only been dating for three months now and you love being in your own little bubble with him. You also love the thrill you get from sneaking around, the way he sneaks you into his house after hours just so you can fall asleep on him.
You’re not sure the separation anxiety you feel is healthy, he’s the only thing on your mind, the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about when you go to sleep. He’s your first boyfriend, your first everything and you hope he’s your last.
It feels so good to be utterly obsessed with someone and them to reciprocate it. It’s also a rush knowing your boyfriend hates everyone but you, that he’s mean in public but when he’s alone with you, he’s on his knees telling you how much he loves you.
You feel like you’re going insane, you need to feel his skin against yours. You’re never not clinging to him like a monkey, making him carry you everywhere. You’re just so obsessed with him, it makes you want to rip your hair out, definitely not healthy but you don’t give a shit.
You anxiously start eating the popcorn Yujis holding, fighting the urge to run up stairs and tackle Sukuna. This is different, so different, whatever you felt for Choso doesn’t come even a fraction close to how you feel about Sukuna.
“I’m so tired,” you fake yawn, stretching your arms up and Yuji scoffs.
“It’s only been an hour,” he says and you yawn again for emphasis.
“I had such a long day, I’m sorry guys,” you say innocently and Choso shakes his head. “Just go to sleep in one of the guest rooms, I can take you home in the morning,” he says and you nod standing up.
Yuji looks at you suspiciously but all you do is offer an apologetic smile before you’re climbing up the stairs. Your fingers wrap the handle to Sukunas door and open it. He’s sitting at his desk, engrossed in a game of call of duty while he curses out someone on his headset.
You lock the door and peel your clothes off till you’re naked. You pull your hair from its ponytail and let it fall to your hips before you walk toward him. He looks to you and then back to the screen before looking at you again with wide eyes and you giggle.
“I gotta go,” he says over the headset.
“We’re about to fucking win!” you hear someone yell at him as you turn the chair to face you. You climb onto his lap and reach for his hand as his teammates scream at him through the headset.
He watches you take his hand and press his fingers against your pussy, covering them in your arousal before you lift them to your mouth and lick them. He throws his head back and closes his eyes.
“I really gotta fucking go,” he says before closing the game, and the shouting stops. He quickly removes his headset and sets downs his controller.
“Hi,” you smile innocently.
“Hi baby,” he breathes before his lips find yours. Your lips brush and tongues lap against eachother. His hands slide over the curve of your waists and up to your tits. His large hands splay across them and he squeezes them hard.
“Does my good girl need some attention?” He asks, his tongue licking the sides of your breasts and you nod.
“How bad?” He asks, rolling a nipple between his fingers as you grind down against his bulge.
“Really bad,” you say creating a bouncing rhythm. He can feel the wet patch you’re making on his crotch. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt and he lifts his arms up, letting you take it off.
You’ll never get tired of his body, the ridges, the muscles and the defined v at his hips. Your nails graze his abs before they start tracing over the tattoos on his arms. His body is hot to the touch, and he shivers under your cold fingers.
“You gonna ride me?” He asks. You’re a pillow princess, you love just laying down and taking it while he does most of the work but you’ve never done that before, yet it sounds dirty and you like it.
“Yes,” you say confidently. You’ve only ever done missionary, he knows it’s your favorite, it’s just so intimate, being able to see his expressions and watch where your bodies connect as he fucks into you.
He knows he’s gonna be helping you by the end of this but he pats your ass and you sit up, letting him slide his pants off and his cock springs free. Your mouth waters at the sight and you slide down to your knees.
Your hand wraps around it and he hisses. You watch the way his abs contract when you spit repeatedly on it till it’s nice and sloppy, just how he likes it. You press several kisses to the tip letting precum smear against you lips, teasing him before you lick up the sides.
He groans as you feel the veins against your tongue. He stands up so he can get a better look at you when he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth widens as you breathe through your nose like he taught you, tears gather in your eyes, looking up at him until his dick is pressed against the back of your throat.
“Gonna fuck the shit out of this mouth,” he groans and your pussy throbs. His fingers thread through your hair and slowly pulls out of your mouth before plunging back in. His dick is so fucking warm in your mouth, he groans when you lick the underside. He starts thrusting into your mouth, not breaking eye contact as he watches you cry and it turns him on so fucking bad watching the tears flow down your cheeks.
You’re gagging on his dick, your hands gripping his thighs praying nobody can hear you choking.
“So good for me baby,” he grunts, forcing more down your throat and your eyes widen but you try to relax. He’s buried in your throat, your nose touching his pelvis. He thrusts in out, beating the back of your throat, saliva smearing all over your face and dripping onto your chest.
Your fingers find your pussy and you force your middle and index finger inside of you, desperate for a release as you bounce on your fingers. Your mouth cries against his cock, and it’s enough that he’s pulling out. He watches you fingering yourself and loses it, cum hits your face in thick ropes and then your chest, you fingers leave your cunt and you swipe the cum off your lips, sucking them off before you stand up and push Sukuna back down into the chair.
He watches you glide your fingers over your nipples, scooping up cum before you swallow it. You’re a fucking freak, not even close to what he dreamed of, but better.
You straddle him as he leans back, letting you take control. You grip his cock and line it up at your sopping hole. Your eyes close as you slowly sink down onto it, the stretch one of your favorite parts.
Little tremors hit you as your pussy swallows him until your ass is flush against his thighs. He’s so fucking deep, you think you might cum if you move. His full attention is on you, hands gripping the arms of the chair.
You pull up, feeling his cock slowly leave you before you bounce back down. You moan as quietly as you can as you bounce up and down his cock. This feels so good but it’s so much work, work you’re not use to and you look at him with those big doe eyes. He was waiting for this.
“Help me,” you whisper and his hands slide to your ass, lifting you up and slamming you down on him, hard.
Your teeth sink into his shoulder as he slams you up and down his cock over and over, sweat starts to coat your body and your tits bounce with each thrust. You hear gunshots downstairs from the tv, praying they don’t hear Sukuna drilling into you.
“The sweetest fucking pussy,” he grunts as you grind against him, you feel your stomach knot and your pussy clamps as he batters your cervix. You start to shake against him and liquid gushes from your cunt but he doesn’t stop, he never does.
He fucks into you like he wants to touch the tip of your skull, your head lulls to the side, tongue sticking out as you gasp for air feeling your boyfriend demolish your cunt until you’re squirting again and dripping down his thighs.
“Too much ngghh, too much Kuna,” you cry when his thumb rubs at your clit and your eyes roll back. His mouth finds yours and he swallows your screams as you cum together, feeling him flood you with his seed.
You slump against him as he carries you to his bathroom. He turns the shower on and steps inside with you still wrapped around him. You whine when he lifts you off of him and sets you on your feet, your knees are wobbly as he reaches for your pink loofah and lathers his body wash onto it.
He begins scrubbing your body while you turn your face so the water hits it, washing away his cum. You reach for your face wash you left and start massaging it into your face as he gets on his knees.
You shiver as he gently washes your sore and abused pussy. He press’s kisses against your belly as you grab his rag and pour body wash on it. He stands up and you start scrubbing him, at least the places you can reach till he has to take over.
Once you’re done and he’s dressed you in his clothes, you climb on top of him in bed, resting your head on his chest.
“My little spider monkey,” he calls you, the way you cling to him. You look up and smile before kissing his jaw as he scrolls through Netflix.
You all but squeal at the smell of fried food, the flickering multicolored lights and the sound of screaming. You fucking love the fair.
Sukuna fucking hates it, he hates the screaming and the guaranteed vomiting. He still hasn’t forgiven you for throwing up on him in the Gravitron once the ride ended when you were twelve and him fourteen.
In your defense you housed about six funnel cakes, a super size coke slushee and eight fried Oreos that day before you got on the ride. You learned your lesson that day.
Even though he hates it, it’s the smile on your face that makes it worth it as you lace your fingers together and walk around.
You immediately guide him toward the flying swings, the tendant scans your wristbands and you take the seat infront of Sukuna as more people get on.
Sukuna waits for what he knows is coming, he listens to you burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. You laugh manically when you ride rollercoasters and etc, people look at you like you’re deranged while you laugh like the Joker.
It’s fucking hilarious as you look back at him. He can’t help but laugh at the way his girlfriend sounds like a fucking maniac. Even when the rides over you’re clutching your sides laughing. It’s the adrenaline no doubt.
You spend the night riding almost every ride, nearly breaking your neck on the bumper cars when some kid drove straight into you until you were slammed into the wall. Sukuna threatened to kick his “little ass” out the car and he broke down crying which ended in you both banned from the bumper cars.
“He was a pussy,” Sukuna huffs as you lick at your Icecream cone.
“Baby, he couldn’t have been older than eight,” you say and he shrugs leaning down to lick your Icecream. He watches you take a bite with your front teeth and stops walking.
“Only psychos eat Icecream like that,” he says making you laugh.
“Congrats, you’re dating a psycho,” you say taking another bite until your eyes land on something.
Sukuna clutches his ears as you threaten to burst his eardrum with your screaming.
“Fuck!” He says loudly with his finger in his ear. You ignore it as you finish your icecream and tug him toward the booth full of Sanrio plushies. “I want them all,” you say to the worker and she hands you a basketball.
You look down at it with a frown as she points to the hoops behind her. Sukuna hands her money as you toss the ball, watching it bounce off the rim.
You have two more shots and she hands you a ball, you throw it and miss. Sukuna can tell you’re getting frustrated with the way your hands form into fists.
He walks who behind you as you take the last basketball. He presses his hand flat against your stomach and the other one stretches out behind your hand that holds the basketball.
He pulls your joined hands back and lifts you up with one hand so you can throw it and it makes it through the hoop.
“I did it! I did it!” You jump up and down, technically you both did but he doesn’t care to correct you.
“That’s cheating,” the worker says arms crossed.
“Give her the fucking toy,” Sukuna says making the girl get up and walk to the wall of plushies.
“Which one baby?” He asks and you point to a giant My Melody one dressed up as a watermelon, she hands it to you. The things nearly the size of you as you hug it, you beam up at him as he holds your hand.
He brings your joined hands up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand as you walk around. There’s two rides you haven’t gone on yet, the Ferris wheel and the Gravitron.
Sukuna absolutely refuses when you walk him toward the Gravitron. You actually feel bad that you gave him childhood trauma because he plants his feet to the ground and doesn’t budge no matter how hard you pull.
“Please Kuna, we can stand on opposite ends of the ride. I promise I won’t throw up on you,” you beg but he doesn’t budge. You sigh and look down at the ground, like a kicked and dejected puppy.
“You’re fucking annoying” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your temple and grabbing your hand. You smile, leaving your plushie with the machine operator as you both step inside. You giggle as he leans against the wall two mats over.
Everyone gets in and the ride starts, you feel the pressure of the zero gravity at work as your body’s stuck against the wall. The machine ride spins, Sukunas watching you and the expression your face makes. You’re not laughing, not even close.
You feel sick, absolutely sick and dizzy. Your eyes squeeze shut until the ride ends and you’re running out. You lean over the railing, prepared to vomit as you take several deep breaths. Sukuna rubs your back and holds your hair but luckily nothing comes up.
“You’re never going on that ride again,” he says and you nod, you can’t help but laugh once the queasiness leaves you. “You should’ve seen your face, you thought I was going to throw up on you,” you say, pretending to puke on him and he glares, carrying your plushie.
“You’d be walking home if you did,” he says and you roll your eyes knowing damn well he would never let that happen.
You stop him and stand on your tippie toes, pulling him down for a kiss. You smile against his lips, you’ll never get tired of this.
You rest against his chest as you both stare at the tv.
“So he calls her baby girl and she calls him chocolate thunder but they’re strictly platonic?” He asks and you nod laughing as you watch criminal minds.
“You’re into some freaky shit,” he says making you sit up so you’re straddling him. You push your ass against his dick and smile.
“Very,” you say before you lift your shirt up, revealing your bare chests. He sits up and starts kissing you, oblivious to the feet running up the stairs until his doors being slammed open. You scream and climb off of him, clutching your chest.
Your face reddens, the urge to cover it but your hands are hiding your tits. He moves to block your body and hands you back his shirt. Yuji and Choso’s faces are burned into your brain as you slip the shirt on. You don’t lean over Sukuna, terrified.
“What the fuck!” You hear Choso say and you slightly peak over Sukunas shoulder.
Choso storms out of the room and you jump out of the bed.
“Choso wait!” You say as he jogs down the stairs and out the front door.
You walk back to the room to see Yuji sitting next to Sukuna giving him a fist bump.
“No way you bagged y/n, She’s pretty bad,” Yuji says and you slap the back of both their heads.
You sigh pushing your food around. It’s been a week and Choso doesn’t answer your texts, he doesn’t sit with you at lunch and he switched seats in the classes you share so now you’re forced to sit next to Mahito who you hate.
“Has he said anything to you?” You ask Sukuna as he steals one of your fries.
“Nah, he’s been staying over at Yuki’s. Who cares anyways” he says eating another fry until you’re pushing your tray towards him.
“I do and you should too, he’s your brother,” you say and he sighs.
“So what do you want me to do, I can beat him until he talks to you,” he offers genuinely, you try not to laugh at his violent and insane behavior.
“No, but I told you this would happen,” you say and he shrugs, holding a fry up to your lips until you eat it.
“Good girl,” he says as Yuki sits infront if you making you sit up. You’re prepared for her to yell at you but she doesn’t.
“I know Choso’s being stubborn, he told me everything. It’s really not his business on what you two do with eachother which I expressed so now he’s not talking to me,” she says taking a fry.
“He’s being a fucking diva,” Sukuna says making you laugh at him using such a word. “Break up with him and see how fast he comes running,” Sukuna concludes. The idea sounds absurd but Yuki’s pulling her phone out and tapping away at the screen.
“Oh you guys are cruel,” you say and she hits send.
“So what exactly is this?” She asks, pointing between you two.
“We’re dating, three months now,” you smile, being able to say it so openly feels nice.
“Oh that’s pathetic,” Sukuna says as Choso enters the cafeteria and walks towards your table. He holds his phone up at Yuki.
“Are you serious?”.
“What use is a boyfriend that won’t speak to you?” She asks and you take notes. She’s so nonchalant about it, serves him right.
“Fine, you want to talk let’s talk,” Choso says taking the seat between you and Yuki.
“You’re fucking a guy that told you the only jobs you’d get were either on a pole or your back and you’re fucking a girl that prayed to God for three weeks that you would catch Syphilis,” he says, Yuki covers her mouth to conceal a laugh.
“Well, she only does one of those jobs and I’m syphilis free,” Sukuna says and you pinch his ass through the opening in his chair making him squirm.
“He fucking hates you and you just…spread your legs for him?” Choso asks making your breathing hitch.
“Shut the fuck up, and choose your nexts word wisely,” Sukuna warns.
“That’s not what I meant. I just don’t get it, you’ve been lying and fucking my brother. It’s weird, and what’s suppose to happen when it’s over?” He asks.
“Nothing, because it never will be,” Sukuna answers, seemingly bored of this conversation.
“Choso, you’re my bestfriend and you always will be but what I do and who I do it with is my choice. I’m not sorry that it’s Sukuna or that I love him. But I am sorry that you feel the need to be mean and avoid me. When you got with Yuki, I accepted it. It’s caused us to make adjustments to our friendship that I’ve happily complied with, there’s no reason you can’t do the same,” you say with a level head and he nods.
“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he sighs and you smile.
“I promise you, your brother takes good care of me,” you assure.
“In every aspect,” Sukuna adds making Choso cringe and Yuki laugh.
“This conversations boring me, come home and stop being a bitch” Sukuna says.
“Fine but no more sex jokes, and please lock your fucking door” Choso says.
“Fine, now beat it. I need a word with my girlfriend “ Sukuna says making Yuki and Choso dip. He pulls your chair toward him and leans in till your forehead is pressed against his.
“You love me?” He asks and you nod.
“I love you more than I ever hated you, so much fucking more,”.
I know some of you wanted Choso’s reaction, I rewrote it so many times but I honestly don’t think he cares that much. He has no romantic feelings for her. But I do think the idea of her and his brother who is an absolute ass would seem quite disturbing.
Also she’s not pregnant! Thank y’all for the endless support on this. Gojo Tinder piece coming up next!
@whosmarjj @getoxmahito @xra1 @swoozleee @lillycore
@carefree-flowerchild
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#salemgojo#toji fushigro x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro#sukuna smut#toji zenin#choso x reader#choso smut#sukuna au#ryomen sukuna#sukuna jjk#sukuna x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru#geto suguru#nanami kento#smut
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requests are open, WOO!!
I've got an idea for scara. Yk how he always sticks his tongue out and blows raspberries at us? Imagine him doing that over the whole day, being the sarcastic bf he is and fem!reader gets annoyed, ending with scara/wanderer (idc which one, both are hot ngl) putting that tongue to good use, showing her how good he can make her feel with it over and over again?
ALSO, my condolences for the heat wave where you're at, we're having constant thunderstorms here💀
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunnilingus. Multiple orgasms. Pussy drunk!Scara. Ego stroking. Slut used once.
June 7th, guys. June 7th is when they coming to put the new AC unit in. Send your storms my way, dear❤️
"Is this what you meant when you asked me to use my tongue for something else?" Scaramouche asked, prodding and swirling his tongue around your pulsing clit. You could only dignify him with shaky sighs and moans that started to rise in octave as your grinded your cunt against his tongue.
You couldn't even be annoyed or quite frankly infuriated at his chuckle. The same egotistical laugh he'd been using all day, his remarks dripping with sarcasm while he stuck his tongue out at you.
This man never cared if he was infuriating or annoying. It was a people issue, not a him issue. And you loved him for that. So much. But today, damn he was just extra relentless.
Your hand found the back of his head, pushing his mouth further down onto your puffy pussy, each lick and glide from his tongue making you wetter. Almost embarrassingly so.
This is much more preferable to his gremlin behavior. You were steadily forgetting that you had been annoyed with him. W-why was I annoyed with him again? You even stumbled over thinking those words in your head, your loudest moan of the afternoon filtering in his ears as he swept his tongue down from your clit, plunging it inside of you.
Your hips bucked into Scaramouche's mouth, his tongue taking you higher and higher. He groaned feeling your walls clench around his tongue, his hands firmly holding your thighs apart. "Go on," He purred, smirking up at you, "use your words, pretty."
He tapped his beautiful fingers in the inside of your thighs impatiently. He knew full well he could make you cum as fast as he wanted, or let you cum when he decided he could. Swirling his tongue inside of you, he took great care in making you feel every lick on your sensitive walls.
You whimpered as he withdrew his tongue, feeling his ego growing. In the dizzying pleasure he was tongue was bringing you, you felt compelled to stroke his ego like you always did. His behavior be damned, he deserves it.
Scaramouche grew more impatient despite feeling proud that he was starting to melt your poor little brain with his tongue so fast. He sucked on your clit again, encouraging you to speak.
He always got what he wanted.
"Your tongue is making me see Celestia," You cried out. Every urgent tug on his hair made his cock throb, and harden. He could get off hearing you in the throes of pleasure. He fed on it. His tongue sped up on your clit, demanding more. "It's only your tongue I want. It's all I ever want," You babbled, your body twitching as he vibrated a muffled moan on your cunt.
"What a slut," Scaramouche moaned, getting drunk on your taste. Your worshipping praise only added fuel to the fire. His tongue worked over your clit with the same relentlessness he used in sticking it out at you all day.
Archons, he loves it when you stroke his ego. He wanted to cum like the good girl you are for him.
Scaramouche rutted his aching cock into the mattress. "Go on," He growled, releasing your clit with a soft, wet pop. He flattened his tongue, giving it kitten licks.
"It's only your tongue that can make me cum," You whimpered before your orgasm suddenly hit you. He loudly slurped loudly at your cunt, indulging himself in the taste while he tongue fucked you through your orgasm.
Scaramouche promptly sucked on your clit again, making you nearly scream from pleasure. He could feel your hands trembling as you pushed his mouth down onto your cunt. "I need more," He groaned, his fingers digging into your thighs.
Having not come down from your first orgasm, it didn't take long for you to cum again, squirting as well much to his delight.
But he did not stop, driven with the intent to make you cum again.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you
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— 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑜𝓌𝓁 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ vaguely suggestive bits ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ pet names ( darlin’ + sweetheart :3 )
previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part
it’s late—you know so because the sky has turned to a deep navy. you can hear the crickets chirping through the open window, feel the cool night breeze whisper against your skin. beyond those telling signs, your eyelids are beginning to feel heavy. they’re screaming at you to close them but you know that if you do, you’ll fall asleep in a second. you can’t do that now, not when you’re on the phone giving your weekly update to your friend back home.
“so,” her voice crackles over the line, “how are things in farmville?”
you snort at meg’s nickname for the little town you’ve come to know as a second home. as much as she pokes fun at the idea of having a ranch to run away to, she’s been supportive of your decision to retreat here for solace. she keeps you in the loop when it comes to the drama unfolding in the office and listens attentively when you tell her what you’re up to on the farm.
you have a feeling she might be offended that you didn’t tell her this bit sooner.
“fine.” you draw the word out, rolling onto your other side on the couch as if repositioning will give you enough time to stall. despite not being able to see her face, you imagine that the woman is wearing an expression that says something along the lines of i know you’re hiding something. even through the phone, she can see through you. “i might have gotten a concussion a few days ago.”
she gasps and you can hear her slap her hand over her mouth. you’re sure if she could, she’d reach through the phone and shake you by the shoulders before thinking better of it and rushing out a string of apologies. though, she can’t, so she settles on questioning you instead. “what happened? are you okay? why the hell are you just now telling me?”
you relay the series of events to her—how it happened, boothill finding you, your visit to the doctor, and boothill playing nurse since then. her worry seems to dissipate as you explain and by the time you’re done, she’s laughing.
“what are you giggling about?” you ask her, but a little part of you already knows. boothill’s name always seems to make its way into your conversations and since the start of these weekly calls, meg has held onto the belief that you’re harboring a crush on the farmhand. you brush her off every time she suggests that you like him but like a leech, the thought always latches on and lingers.
“probably hard to deny your feelings now, huh?” you can hear the smile in her voice. you pucker your lips in annoyance. you didn’t think telling her about the way boothill makes you feel would result in meg throwing it back in your face at any given moment. though, you suppose you can’t be surprised. she’s frustrated that you’ll admit those feelings to her and not him, that you won’t act on them. “he’s already taking care of you like you’re his girlfriend—how romantic!”
“it’s not romantic,” you tell her, shaking your head, “he’d do that for anyone.”
“even better!” meg squeals. the shrill sound makes you pull the phone away from your ear and you only return it to its former position when the woman lowers her voice. “if he’s like that with everyone, that means he isn’t trying to impress you. he’s just a compassionate, caring guy who happens to have a thing for you.”
you chew on your cheek as you contemplate her words. you’ve never doubted that he’s a good guy—you’ve seen too many instances of his big heart in action to think otherwise, though, the part about boothill having a “thing” for you is a bit harder to believe. sure, he’s called you pretty numerous times, unintentionally held your hands on a couple of occasions, but that means nothing, at least when it comes to whatever feelings he might have for you. you’ve convinced yourself that most of the things he does that make your heart flutter or your cheeks burn are simply to get a reaction out of you—a little embarrassment for the sake of his entertainment.
“ugh, when are you going to be brave and spill your guts to him?” meg’s voice cuts through your thoughts.
“never! i’m not telling him anything.” you close your eyes and take a deep breath to ground yourself. “i don’t know how long i’ll be here and, more importantly, i have no idea if he even likes me.”
“and you’ll never find out if you keep running away.”
you’re about to tell her that you aren’t running away or avoiding anything but you press your lips together before the words can hit the air. because you have been—you can recall a number of times you have in the past and you’re even thinking about it now, leaving without coming to terms with your feelings or figuring out if boothill reciprocates them.
“i’m not—” not running away? not going to tell him? not ready to tell him? you huff out a sigh, one that’s a mixture of frustration and confusion. “not now, meg.”
“that’s fine,” she assures you, her voice soft. “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”
“i know.” you nod even though she can’t see you.
she’s right. you’ll regret it if you don’t say anything, if you go home without facing your feelings head-on. the what ifs and what could have beens will follow you there, mercilessly haunting your mind.
“it’s getting late,” you tell meg, “i think i’m going to go to bed.”
“sure,” she hums. there’s a brief pause like she wants to say more but she settles on, “good night.”
“g’night.” you pull your phone away to end the call and toss the device on the other end of the couch. you should go upstairs and get in bed like you planned to but all these thoughts so fresh in your head make you feel like falling asleep won’t come easy tonight. slumping against the arm on the couch, you let out a groan, one quiet enough to not wake your grandpa and boothill upstairs but loud enough to grant you the slightest bit of relief.
though, the sound is cut off by another. it comes from the kitchen and you sit up to peer over the back of the couch to see if you’re hearing things—you’d prefer it that way. your fantasy comes to an end when you see boothill standing at the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and closing the door once he’s finished.
he meets your gaze and shoots you a smile before uncapping the water and taking a few gulps. it’s strange seeing him at this hour; he usually sleeps early so he can wake up with the sun. you rarely ever see him wearing anything but his jeans and his top of choice but the look is traded in for pajamas now—if you can call nothing but a pair of boxers pajamas.
you gasp at the sight and turn around. he just wanders around the house half-naked? carelessly risks running into you while wearing nothing but his underwear? you might not have heard him but he certainly must have seen you stretched out on the couch or at the very least heard you talking to meg on the phone.
the call.
you quickly turn around to face him once more.
“how long have you been there?” the question comes out rushed but you’re frantic to know if he was around to hear you talking about him.
he shrugs and swallows, setting his bottle on the counter before leaning against it. “i don’t know. long enough to hear you’re having some boy troubles.”
the confession makes your heart jump into your throat. you choose not to expand on it, instead reprimanding him for eavesdropping. “it’s rude to listen in on conversations you aren’t part of.”
“my apologies.” he raises his hands in mock surrender. “i just didn’t wanna interrupt.”
you stare him down in an attempt to read his expression and the look in his eyes. his perpetual smile is in place like usual but nothing else about his countenance seems knowing. he’s either very good at hiding it or he didn’t pick up on the fact that he was the one you’re talking about.
“want some advice?” boothill speaks up, tilting his head in a question of its own.
you look at him for a second before a laugh bubbles up from your chest, permeating the air. boothill’s smile slowly falls and that’s the last you see of him before turning your back to him. it seems a little more polite to laugh at him if it isn’t in his face.
he doesn’t stay at his place in the kitchen, feet carrying him to the back of the couch. you’re still laughing when he gets there. he’s never heard you laugh like this before—not at anything he’s said or done. as captivated as he is by the sound, he’s a touch more curious as to what brought it about. a cushion in between you, he leans over the back of the couch to ask, “what’s so funny?”
“i’m sorry.” you try to clear the humor from your voice but it lingers with your explanation. you turn your head to look boothill in the eye. “it’s just—what do you know about problems of the male variety?”
“hello?” he straightens up and gestures to himself and it’s only then that you remember how…undressed he is. that’s enough to sober you up from your humor. “you’re looking at a man, sweetheart.”
you don’t need him to tell you that—you’re more than aware of that. you just meant that he doesn’t seem like the type to help people out of romantic hardships, rather, he’s the one who causes them. strangely enough, though, you consider hearing his perspective. after all, he is the subject of your “boy troubles” as boothill called them.
“so, how about it?” he rounds the couch and plops down on it beside you, leaving a safe amount of space between the two of you. you hold his gaze, light gray irises glowing like stars in the darkness of the living room. “wanna hear my opinion?”
your heart rate quickens and you can’t tell why. because he’s this close to you and practically naked? because those gray eyes are boring into you, urging you to hear him out? because his advice could be the courage you need to admit your feelings or the very deterrent to keep you from doing so?
maybe you aren’t quite brave enough to spill your guts yet but it’s time for you to stop being so scared of the what ifs. “okay, go for it.”
that seems to be the answer boothill was looking for, if his growing smile is any evidence. he doesn’t waste any time sharing his insight. “i say throw caution to the wind, tell him how you feel. and if he doesn’t feel the same way, well then, that’s his loss. because you, darlin’, are a catch. any man would be lucky to have you.”
you know boothill isn’t one to sugarcoat his words. every word he says, he means. is that the case here, too? any man would be lucky to have you—would he feel the same if that man was him?
“i’m headin’ to bed.” he groans as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head, mouth falling open in a yawn. you watch him silently, pondering his words. he doesn’t comment on your silence, doesn’t bother to tease you about your staring. all he does is offer you a wink before telling you, “sweet dreams.”
just as quietly as he appeared, he’s gone.
you let out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. instead of following boothill’s lead and going to sleep, you rest your head on the arm of the couch and turn your eyes up to the ceiling. your heart is still beating wildly against your rib cage but it’s not bad nerves this time around, it’s anticipation.
courage it is.
thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail#boothill x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill drabble#hsr drabbles#boothill fluff#hsr fluff#honkai star rail fluff
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I KNOW LOVE EXISTS BECAUSE YOU'RE FULL OF IT
synopsis: they’re full of tenderness, adoration, love or this one tiktok trend that goes like “i know love exists because my friends are full of it.”
pairing: aventurine, sunday, robin, topaz x reader (separate) | wc: 1.8k | content & warnings: fluff, established relationship, kissing kissing and kissing, aventurines drabble is totally not inspired by one of my old posts..(it's literally the same), petnames in robins, usage of dummy (sarcastic) in robins, lmk if there's more ^^ ; headcanon + drabble
a/n: “love” is replaced by a synonym or another word cause i thought it’d get too boring and repetitive lmfao, ALSO happy pride!!
“i know yearning exists because AVENTURINE is full of it.”
there isn't a single time of the day where aventurine doesn't long to be by your side.
aventurine doesn’t make it obvious but he can be a clingy lover.
he has a habit of tightly holding onto you wherever the two of you are, be it in the morning when the two of you still lie in bed and aventurine holds your waist, when the two are out in public and aventurine grips your hand so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd.
there are times during work where he’s bored and starts taking notice of certain things that you’d like or that remind him of you. he writes them down in his notes app to later on tell you about them.
first thing in the morning: checking up on you. first thing to do at work: checking up on you. first thing he does when he comes home: checking up on you.
when he comes home and you don’t greet him at the door and finds you in the kitchen preparing dinner, he wraps his arms around your waist and watches you as you cook.
at the beginning aventurine was quite hesitant and reluctant when it came to initiating physical touch, the concept of a committed relationship was still new to him, a relationship where he have to open up and actually be himself - being vulnerable.
so in the first months it’s nothing but longing glances as his fingers itch to touch you but he knows that if he will, he’ll cross a border which he’ll never be able to go back to.
eventually he starts to link your pinkies together, holding onto yours tightly so you don’t slip out of his grasp. those small touches later turn into morning kisses and back at home kisses, hand squeezes, brushing your hand through the other's hair or begging the other to not go to work.
it’s early in the morning and you know that aventurine has to go to work, but you just can't help but be greedy. eagerly grasping for his wrist, as you beg him not to leave yet and just stay for another five minutes.
your voice is laced with morning drowsiness and the grip you have on his wrist is sluggish - nevertheless your eyes are full of determination to not let him go and keep him by your side.
he's grown accustomed to your little antics now, it's basically become a habit for the both of you to laze in bed a bit longer. but who is he to complain - after all how could he resist you when you ask him so nicely?
internally, he’s glad that he isn’t the only among the two of you who yearns for the other one.
“i know sincerity exists because TOPAZ is full of it.”
topaz’s words, actions, gestures, in her opinion, aren’t enough - they’ll never be enough to express her love for you.
topaz is a very dedicated lover.
she’s is always making sure to assure and reassure you that she loves you, be it verbally with compliments and praises, physically by showering you with much affection, cuddles and kisses on your temple before work or materialistically with gifts such as new jewelry, your favorite sweet treat, new mechanical pencils. the list goes on.
lies are unknown to her, topaz always keeps her word. your dates are 8pm sharp on saturday with her picking you up. she promised to go to the new cat café you’ve been eyeing? bet, she’s taking numby with you guys.
on her days off work or weekends, topaz always wakes up early and makes sure to prepare you a delicious breakfast and bring it to you in bed. it varies from sweet meals like waffles topped with berries and crêpes glazed in melted chocolate to savory breakfasts like sourdough fried in olive oil and topped with an avocado and a poached egg or congee.
when buying flower bouquets (which became a weekly habit), she always makes sure to keep one flower to herself, so when it wilts, she knows it’s time to purchase a new one and place it in the shiny glass vase on your coffee table.
topaz always wakes 5 minutes up earlier than her alarm just so she can admire you for a little while longer before having to go to work. she lies next to you and just fiddles with your fingers, kissing the knuckles of your palms and tracing your ring finger (just by doing that she’s able to find out the perfect measurements for your future wedding band) and brushing the strands of hair that cover your face, away.
you’re so perfect.
topaz can only stare at you in adoration as you peacefully slumber. to think that she used to wake up alone with no one besides perhaps numby by her side, it’s ironic to think about it now.
she searches for your hand beneath the covers and quickly finds it, swiftly lacing your hands together as she brings your hand closer to her face. the back of your hand finds her lips and she presses warm kisses against your knuckles before smiling into your hand. she couldn’t be any luckier.
topaz is reminded that this isn’t a dream but reality - her reality with you. she hopes that her mornings will continue like this, with birds chirping outside her windows and tendrils of sunshine peeking through the curtains as they shine on your beautiful face.
she hopes that this reality will be her future, her shared future with you.
“i know devotion exists because SUNDAY is full of it.”
if sunday had to devote himself to someone it'd be none other than you.
sunday is a committed lover.
you might call him whipped - head over heels even.
he’s prepared for every occurrence that might be happening. it’s raining heavily? he pulls out an umbrella to shield you, carefully inching it closer to you so that you don’t get wet, even if it means that his clothes will later on be slightly soaked. your feet are sore from walking with your shoes? he’s prepared and brought an additional pair of shoes in case you’d start feeling tired. you forgot to bring your wallet and can’t pay for your meal? sunday will cover it! (he was going to pay anyway, there’s no way he’d let you pay.)
the type of guy that excuses himself to go to the toilet but then goes to the receptionist and pays.
when in public and he notices that your shoes are untied he gets on one of his knees, staining his trousers with dirt as he ties the laces of your shoes back together, before standing up once again and brushing off the dirt of his clothes and taking out wet wipes to clean his hands before reaching out his hand to you.
sunday is willing to learn anything and everything about your interests. it starts off with carefully listening to you as you talk about them to later on researching them in books and the internet and perhaps even people who’re educated in this topic. just so he can later bring it up and see you happily ranting about it as he intently listens.
“have you heard about the new discussion that’s going on.” sunday shows you his phone which is currently displaying a post about one of your favorite topics which makes you smile in delight.
“actually no! i haven’t heard of this yet. show it to me please.” you plead as you look at him with a bright grin. “you know, you don’t have to ask.” sunday hums contently before handing you his phone and picking up his book again, licking the tip of his finger to turn the page as he watches you intently reading the article, smiling as you turn to him to point out something that caught your attention.
“i know compassion ROBIN exists because is full of it.”
if you’d offer robin to take all your pain away and place it upon her, she would accept. not hesitating for a split second and immediately accepting.
robin is an empathic and understanding lover.
she always brings you small trinkets and souvenirs, like magnets to put on your shared fridge or colorful keychains for you guys’ apartment, from her concerts and tours on other planets. reasoning it by saying that: “it reminded me of you.”
she adores addressing you with terms of endearments like sweetheart, love, beloved etc. that when she doesn’t you’re confused if you did something wrong.
when robin notices you being anxious, she carefully intertwines your hands together and softly squeezes your palm as an attempt to calm you down. she languidly traces shapes, circles, stars, hearts on the back of your hand to soothe your worries and ease your anxiety.
^ she also massages your muscles or back when they’re sore before wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing the crook of your neck.
her kisses are featherlight, lasting for a quick moment but being full of emotion. they’re soft as she presses her lips against your skin, tinting you in pinkish lipstick from head to toe.
oftentimes she bumps her nose against yours and when she sees your flustered expression she can only let out an angelic laugh. she then leans forwards to press a kiss on the area above your cupid's bow, just to poke your nose with hers once again.
a lot (all) of her songs are about you and she’s not one to deny that fact. there have been many times where robin sang you one of her songs as a way to comfort you, be it when she’s humming you to sleep or as you comb through her lilac hair with your fingers while listening to her songs.
“oh who’s this about?” you ask as you gingerly brush through her long hair, making sure that there aren’t any knots. robin's hair is silky and soft in your hands and you can only indulge in the scent of her freshly washed and dried hair - a sweet lavender scent.
robin can only hum in confusion. “you mean this song?” she tilts her head to the and stares at you through the mirror of her vanity. “yeah, this one.” you gulp, it’s an old song from robin that covers many topics like love, specifically falling in love and painting out a bright future.
“it’s about you, dummy. who else?” she laughs as if it were obvious. “about me?” but this song is much older than when we first started dating.” this time it’s you being confused. “well, the song is about falling in love and planning a future.” she hums.
all of her songs or at least the majority are about you and she doesn’t plan on stopping writing and singing more about you.
i'm literally brushing my teeth rn but whatever. i know love exists bc user @azullumi is full of it!!! (azul does NOT reply to tiktoks you send, im crying) also azul the thingy with the us copying our mannerism when it comes to texting I DIDNT EVEN NOTICE HAHA although keyboard smashing is something i've only done with a few people, like one or two.. but now it's become quite the habit again (instead of "JEKAKWOEOWAO" i wrote sutff like "HQHAHAHA" or "LMFAO" - i still do but wtv) also i thank you for introducing me to tagalog/filo songs. i love them. i'm a sucker for them now. ok that's all you're getting. you're not getting an ily from me. i need to spare that for the upcoming bsd chapter (THR ACTUAL REASON UIRE NOT GETTING ANY APPRECIATIVE WORDS IS CAUSE I ONLY GOT SHAMED FOR MY TYPOS IN UR E/N SO UNTIL I DONT GET ANY U DONT EITHER GO AND DOROWN IN A DITCH OLD HAG #nopainnogain #neverbackdownneverhwat?!?! #againstazul2024😡)
© DR-FELITAS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.
#—stellaronhvnters.#felis-files#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr headcanons#hsr fluff#honkai star rail fluff#aventurine x reader#aventurine fluff#aventurine headcanons#sunday x reader#sunday fluff#sunday headcanons#robin x reader#robin fluff#robin headcanons#topaz x reader#topaz fluff#topaz headcanons#hsr imagines
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Could you write something about Harry helping y/n through serious pain? Like labor or a chronic illness?
Little Love
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summary: just a lil blurb! the time has come for harry to become a dad and you’re not sure you’re ready (harry styles x female reader)
(i don’t know much about birth or labor, i’m a 20 year old with no kids. so don’t judge me if something is wrong lmao)
warnings: pain, pregnancy, labor, nothing too bad!
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being pregnant is one of the scariest and most beautiful things.
as i lay there in bed beside harry, i couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety swirling inside of me. it was amazing to think about the life growing inside of me, but at the same time, the thought of giving birth was absolutely terrifying. i worried about the pain, the uncertainties, and the physical toll it would take on my body. it was like i was preparing for a marathon that i'm not quite sure i’m was ready for.
as my hormones surged and my emotions became more intense, i often found myself overwhelmed by the enormity of the changes taking place within me. it was like a roller-coaster of sensations and emotions, and it was sometimes hard to find my footing amidst it all.
and yet, despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over me, there was also a well of hope and joy deep within my heart. every time i felt the baby kick or heard its heartbeat, i knew there was something magical happening inside of me too.
i lay there, lost in thought, my eyes drifted over to harry. he was fast asleep beside me, his body sprawled out underneath the covers with one hand securely draped around my waist. his face was peaceful, and his chest rose and fell steadily with each breath he took.
i couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, feeling a surge of love and appreciation for the man who was soon to be the father of my child.
my hand reaches over and gently touches his cheek, marveling at how he could sleep so soundly amidst the whirlwind of emotions that were swirling around inside of me. i knew that he was excited about becoming a dad, but i also knew that he was probably feeling just as nervous as i was.
still, there was something reassuring about having him beside me, anchoring me to this moment despite the unknowns that lay ahead.
as i ran my fingers through his soft curls, his eyes slowly fluttered open, and he looked at me, his green eyes filled with a mixture of grogginess and concern. "hey," he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. "is everything okay?"
"actually… i think the contractions might be starting," i finally admitted, a small tinge of fear creeping into my voice. i took a deep breath, trying to stay calm even as a wave of anxiety washed over me.
harry's eyebrows furrowed with concern as he sat up a bit, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "wait, what? contractions? are you sure?" his voice was tinged with disbelief, but there was also a hint of nerves. he leaned closer to me, his hand reaching out to gently touch my stomach. "how long has this been going on?"
"oh god, i don't know. maybe an hour or so," i replied, wincing as a particularly strong contraction came on. i grasped his hand tightly, my grip involuntarily squeezing his fingers.
harry's eyes widened with a mixture of shock and concern. "okay, okay. don't panic." his voice was steadier now, although i could still hear the subtle tremble of nerves. he gently took my face in his hands, looking into my eyes. "we need to time these contractions, okay? see if they're far apart or getting closer together."
i couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me when i saw harry’s reaction. i don’t know who’s more worried, the person about to go through labor or the panicked british guy.
harry raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "what? what are you laughing at, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and puzzlement. the fear that had momentarily gripped him seemed to leave slightly, replaced instead with a tender warmth in his eyes.
"oh, nothing," i replied, shaking my head slightly as i winced again at another spasm of pain. "it's just funny, you know? here i am going through the beginnings of labor, and you're the one freaking out."
harry chuckled lightly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "well, can you blame me? this is some pretty scary stuff," he admitted, his thumb gently stroking my cheek.
i nodded silently, feeling a sense of comfort in his words. i knew it wouldn’t be easy, but having him beside me made me feel like i could face anything. i snuggled closer to him, burying my face in his chest as another contraction gripped me.
"breathe," harry murmured, his hand gently rubbing my back. "just focus on your breathing. in and out, slow and steady. you got this, sweet girl."
i nodded, taking a shaky breath as another contraction hit me. i focused on the feeling of harry's hand on my back, letting it ground me and keep me from succumbing to the pain and fear that threatened to consume me. slowly, the contraction passed, leaving me feeling drained and exhausted, but reassured that i wasn't alone in this.
"how far apart are they now?" i asked, my voice hoarse with strain. my hands gripping harry’s larger ones tightly.
harry glanced at the clock on his phone, his eyes narrowing as he calculated the time. "about five minutes," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of concern. "they're getting closer together. we should probably start thinking about heading to the hospital soon."
my heart leapt into my throat as harry gave me the news. five minutes apart already? fuck, this was happening a lot faster than i had thought it would.
"okay," i took a deep breath, trying to steady the panicked feeling that was welling up inside me. "okay, let's do this. help me get up, and let's pack the bags. we need to get to the hospital."
harry nodded silently, his expression serious as he quickly kicked off the blankets and got out of bed. he grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet, keeping a supportive arm around my waist as we made our way to the closet to grab our bags.
we moved quickly and efficiently, our nerves and excitement fueling us as we rushed around the house, gathering anything we thought we might need for the hospital.
finally, with our bags packed and essentials in hand, we headed to the car. harry helped me into the passenger seat, quickly tossing our bags into the trunk and then getting into the driver's seat. as he turned on the car and pulled out of the driveway, i could see the anxious tension in his eyes.
the drive to the hospital was a blur of nerves and discomfort. harry's knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, and i could see his jaw clenching and unclenching as he willed himself to stay calm.
the contractions continued to come at regular intervals, each one making me gasp and clutch at whatever surface was nearest.
“fuck- harry” i groan out in pain.
harry glanced quickly over at me, his face immediately creased with concern. "what? what is it? are you okay?" he reached over and grabbed my hand, his grip tight and desperate.
"no- i’m not alright. the contractions are getting stronger," i whimpered, my breath hissing between clenched teeth. "can we get there any faster? please?"
harry let out a low curse under his breath, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "i'm going as fast as i can, okay? just try to breathe, sweetheart. we're almost there."
i nodded weakly, my chest heaving with each breath as i fought against the pain. i clung to harry's hand, finding some small measure of comfort in his presence. with each contraction, the fear and anxiety seemed to build, mingling with the intense pain and leaving me feeling overwhelmed.
"just think," harry said, his voice suddenly quiet. "when we get there, we're going to see our baby. our son or daughter. that's worth it, right?" a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and i couldn't help but cling to the hope in his words.
i nodded again, closing my eyes and trying to picture it. i could almost see the tiny, wriggling bundle in my arms, hear the soft, sweet sound of its cry. somehow, just imagining it made the pain a little easier to bear.
before i knew it, we were pulling into the hospital parking lot. harry helped me out of the car, his arm wrapped securely around me as we limped towards the entrance. we were greeted by a group of nurses who ushered us inside, quickly guiding us towards the maternity ward.
as we entered the hospital, the nurses couldn't help but steal glances at harry, their eyes widening slightly in recognition. a few of them even whispered to each other, their voices tinged with excitement as they recognized the famous singer.
it was strange to see the star-struck reactions of the nurses, but i couldn't blame them. harry was a celebrity, after all. one nurse even gasped quietly under her breath, "is that…?"
but despite the subtle buzz of excitement around us, harry's focus never wavered from me. he held me close, his gaze fixed on me as we continued making our way to the maternity ward.
to be honest, it was a little irritating to have so many eyes on us as we navigated our way through the maternity ward. i was in pain, and the last thing i wanted was to be the center of attention. but i could feel the gazes of the nurses following us, their whispers echoing in my ears. it made me feel like a zoo exhibit, on display for everyone to gawk at.
harry, though, seemed to take it all in stride. he kept his arm tightly around me, his focus entirely on me and getting me settled in.
i could tell that he was a bit uncomfortable with the attention, but he never once let it show. instead, he simply gave the nurses a small smile remaining his normal charming self and guiding me toward the room.
once we were alone in the room, the door closing behind us, i finally let out a long sigh of relief. the bright lights and antiseptic smell of the hospital environment was a far cry from our cozy bed at home, but at least here i would have the care and support of the medical staff. and, of course, the unwavering presence of harry by my side.
harry helped me onto the hospital bed, the crisp white sheets cool beneath my skin. he sat down beside me, taking my hand in his own and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"how are you feeling, love?" he asked softly, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of my hand.
“like absolute shit…” i mumble, managing a tiny smile at the thought of our baby.
harry chuckled softly, his thumb still tracing circles on my hand. "yeah, i can only imagine. but hey, think about it. we're about to see our baby, y'know? that should make it all worth it," he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
i smile weakly at that, nodding in agreement. the thought of holding our baby in my arms for the first time was enough to make me forget about the pain, at least for a moment. "yeah, that's true. i can't wait to meet them," i said, feeling a surge of excitement mixed with the exhaustion and pain.
harry leaned closer, his breath warm on my cheek as he reached out to cup my face. "i love you," he said softly, his voice full of emotion. "and i'm so proud of you for being so strong through all of this."
i felt a wave of warmth spread through me at his words, banishing the earlier irritation at the nurses' stares. "i love you too," i whispered, feeling a fresh wave of determination wash over me.
we sat together in silence for a while, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound aside from our gentle breathing. the contractions continued to come and go, each one growing more intense than the last, but i found comfort in harry's presence, in his unwavering support and love.
after a few moments, there was a gentle knock at the door, and a nurse poked her head inside. "how are you doing, mrs. styles?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern for me. "are you ready to have us take a look and see how far along you are?"
i nodded, feeling a surge of nervousness mixed with excitement. "yeah, i think i'm ready," i said, my voice a little shaky. harry squeezed my hand again, silently reassuring me that everything would be okay.
the nurse nodded and left the room, returning a few moments later with a few other medical staff. they quickly got to work, hooking me up to monitors and checking my vital signs. the room was suddenly buzzing with activity as they prepared for the upcoming delivery.
despite the commotion, i felt strangely calm, my focus entirely on harry's reassuring presence beside me. as the nurses bustled around us, checking my dilation and positioning, i held onto his hand, finding strength in his touch.
harry saw my worry and smiled a little bit. “ya know… i already have my first dad joke lined up.”
i roll my eyes and sigh already knowing where this was going.
harry grinned mischievously, clearly pleased at my reaction. "yep. i've been practicing for months now. want to hear it?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
i couldn't help the eye roll that passed over my face, but deep down, i was secretly looking forward to hearing his terrible joke. "okay, fine. hit me with it," i replied, unable to hide my amusement.
harry cleared his throat, his demeanor changing into a mock serious expression as he delivered the punchline. "why is it impossible to find true love with a mermaid?" he asked, pausing dramatically.
despite my amusement, i couldn't help but play along. "i don't know, harry. why is it impossible to find true love with a mermaid?" i repeated, struggling to keep the smile off my face.
harry's grin widened, and he leaned in close, an exaggerated whisper escaping his lips as he delivered the punchline. "because they're all too shallow!" he said, his green eyes bright with a mix of humor and anticipation.
i groaned inwardly, but at the same time, i couldn't help but laugh. it was so silly, so predictable, and yet, there was something endearing about the fact that he had been practicing this joke for months. "oh my god, harry. that was terrible," i said, shaking my head with fond exasperation.
harry chuckled, clearly pleased with my reaction. "oh come on, you know you loved it. admit it." he teased, giving my hand a light squeeze.
“i love you but i hate your shitty jokes” i grin and roll my eyes at harry’s big dumb smile.
harry chuckled again, his smile growing wider. "yeah, yeah. i know. but you still laughed, so who's the real winner here?" he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. despite the corny dad joke, i couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a surge of affection for the goofy, lovable man beside me.
“yeah, yeah save it for the baby.” i giggle and shake my head. despite the pain and worry i had, harry made me feel truly happy.
harry grinned once more, clearly enjoying the banter. "hey, our baby is going to need some entertainment too. might as well start practicing now."
i shook my head, but inside i felt a warmth spread through me at his words. here we were, about to bring a new life into the world, and he was still making me laugh with his silly jokes.
just then, the nurse re-entered the room, a gentle smile on her face. "mrs. styles, i think you're ready to start pushing now." she said softly, her eyes filled with encouragement.
my heart leapt into my throat at her words, the reality of the situation fully hitting me. i took a deep breath, looking over at harry and seeing the mixture of excitement and anxiety in his eyes.
"okay. i'm ready," i said, my voice tinged with determination. harry smiles and gives me an encouraging kiss on the cheek.
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for the next few hours, time seemed to blur into a haze of pain, exhaustion, and sheer willpower. with harry's hand tightly grasping mine and the steady encouragement of the medical staff, i pushed as hard as i could, each contraction bringing us closer to meeting our baby.
finally, after what felt like an eternity, the room was filled with the sound of a baby's cry, the sweet and unmistakable sound of new life. the nurse placed our bundle of joy gently on my chest, and tears filled my eyes as i looked down at our child for the first time.
harry's eyes lit up as he gazed down at the tiny, wriggling baby in my arms, his expression filled with awe and sheer adoration. "it's a girl," he breathed, his voice choked with emotion.
"we have a daughter." he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of our baby's head, his love and joy palpable in the air.
i felt a rush of emotions as i cradled our daughter in my arms, the pain and exhaustion of labor fading into the background. in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming love i felt for our child and the man beside me.
harry reached out, gently stroking our daughter's soft cheek. "she's perfect," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "absolutely perfect." i leaned my head back against the pillows, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over me.
the room was filled with a gentle quiet, broken only by the soft sound of our daughter's shallow breathing and the occasional whisper from the medical staff taking care of us. i felt a sense of awe and disbelief, finally understanding the true miracle of life and the immense love that comes with it.
“so which name are we going to pick?” i ask looking up from her little pink face to see harry looking at her with wide eyes.
i look down at our daughter, her little face scrunched up in a frown as she slept peacefully in my arms. "what do you think, love?" harry asked softly, wrapping an arm around me and gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face.
“how about… lilah?”
"lilah," i repeated, trying out the name on my tongue. i liked the way it sounded, how it rolled off my tongue. "it's pretty. i like it." i looked up at harry, seeking his approval.
he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "yeah, i like it too. lilah. it's perfect." he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, his hand coming to rest on the bundle in my arms. he leans down and whispers softly to our daughter. "lilah styles… welcome to the world little love.”
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just a sweet little blurb nothing too fancy! hope you love it ! <3
-xoxo⋆₊ ⊹
#harry styles#x0xomady#harry edward styles#one direction#harry styles fluff#fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles smut#dom harry styles#smut#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#dadrry
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【"ＧＡＭＥ ＳＥＴ ＭＡＴＣＨ!"】
an: i've been cooking up this for a while. this is 100% inspired by challengers and i took my time with it. i hope y'all enjoy!!! :D
cw: porn without plot, m/m/f threesome, afab!reader, spitroasting, cum swallowing, creampies, throatfucking, cunniligus, gojo talking you through it, satosugo, slight overstimulation, college athletes!au
word count: 1.2k
"'toru, this is a dumb idea."
"first one to get her number gets to keep her."
"that's if she even comes."
the boys lay in their beds. satoru laying upside down scrolling through his phone, and suguru lounging, cigarette in hand. asking the hottest girl in D1 tennis to come to their hotel room was a delusional, but bold move. you didn't seem impressed by the invitation, or the obvious flirting that the two were laying heavy on you. but satoru insisted on asking away and here they are, staying up late, an hour past the time that was agreed upon.
"satoru, i'm getting tired," suguru complains.
"you're free to go to sleep. i didn't want to share anyways," he smirks.
a soft knock, rapping three times rings throughout the room. the two exchange glances, and then rush to open the door.
suguru greets you first, smooth and suave, asking about your day and brings you inside the room. satoru follows, hurriedly tossing the scattered clothes on the floor into the closet. you sit on one of the beds, satoru and suguru standing awkwardly above you.
"well," you began. "you invited me over for a reason."
they stare at you intensely for a beat, then immediately sit themselves on either side of you.
"is this a thing you guys do often?" you ask with amusement.
"no," they both say in unison.
satoru cleared his throat., "we just thought..."
"that you were really cute" suguru finished.
you smiled. having two hot guys begging to fuck you was not on your bucket list. but here you were, sandwiched between the top two male players in D1 tennis.
the sexual tension was thick and slightly awkward. they were clearly waiting for you to make a move first.
you start with suguru, placing a small peck on his soft lips, tasting a hint of tobacco. he kisses back, but with more force. satoru watches before nibbling on your neck, leaving kisses up and down your collarbone. you turned your attention to satoru to kiss him. he meets your lips passionately, hungrily swirling his tongue around yours. backing into suguru's arms you the stiff bulge forming in his pants, hands roaming underneath your shirt.
you pulled away, leaving the two to look at you as if you were a piece of delicious cake waiting to be eaten. you stared back.
"kiss," you say.
they hesitate for a moment, before their lips crash into one other's. it was evident enough from the kissed that they really liked each other. you sat back and enjoyed the view for a moment before joining in.
things got hot and heavy quick. not even 5 minutes later you were on your back, panties off, with suguru between your legs and satoru making love to your tits.
"I've been waiting so long for this," suguru whispered into your thighs, before diving into your slick arousal, his finger lazily circling your clit, sending a shiver down your entire body. gojo nibbled and licked on each on of your erect nubs, pulling off of each tit with a loud audible pop.
"ah-god! that feels so good," you cried.
"just like that, baby girl," breathed satoru. "he''s good at that isn't?" nudging his heads towards suguru. "but I've been dying to eat that sweet little pussy, my turn."
suguru looked up in annoyance, reluctancy switching places with satoru. you pawed at suguru's boxers impatiently, eager to get his cock out.
it was big (no surprise there) with a slight curve to the left. you spat on your hand before working his shaft that was hanging above your face, suckling on each testicle hovering over you. suguru moaned, putting his cock into your warm plush mouth, groaning at the way his your lips wrapped around his cock.
while suguru was much more sensual, satoru lapped at your pussy like he was dying of thirst. his tongue flicked your now swollen and used clit, his long, slender fingers pumping in and out of your walls.
you whimpered around suguru's dick which in turn made him fuck your face harder. "she has an amazing mouth, 'toru," said suguru.
"oh? well these lips are really good too," replied satoru muffled in your pussy. you start to squirm from overstimulation of your tired-out clit, but satoru firmly held down your thighs "ah ah don't runaway from me now baby girl. " eyes rolled back in complete bliss, you wondered if it was possible to die of too many orgasms within 24 hours.
"I think she's dying to get fucked," smirked surguru.
"I call dibs. i texted her first."
"no, i definitely wanted her first. you just like to bandwagon."
"not true!"
you giggled and fought to roll your eyes. how typical for them to bicker while you were getting ravaged during a threesome. you flipped yourself over from your back, sliding suguru's cock out of your mouth. you looked up at him with wide doe eyes.
"fuck me please?" you asked. "I kissed you first, its only fair."
suguru chuckled, kissing your forehead, "don't worry 'toru, you'll get turn soon."
satoru pouted between your legs, but eased you over to your knees in doggy position, your pussy prepped and primed for a good fucking. taking suguru's place, he stroked his hard length before holding your head down to take him full.
you couldn't see what was happening behind you. all you could feel was suguru's tip rubbing against your hole, and then letting out a cry you didn't know you were holding in when he pushed in. it felt like he was ripping you wide open with his thick cock, but you eventually found a good rhythm- deep full slow strokes going in and out of your wet cunt.
your moans were muffled by satoru's cock, and with every hard thrust from surguru you took satoru's dick even deeper down your throat, gagging leaving you gasping for air.
"so hot," murmured satoru, pulling your up in a ponytail "she feel good?" he asked suguru.
"mhmm, just divine," he groaned. "so fucking tight. fuck, i don't wanna to pull out."
"then don't," satoru egged him on. "cream inside that pussy, fill her up."
suguru's thrusts became quicker, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. from hazy eyes you watched satoru stroke himself, a trail of spittle connecting your lips to his cockhead.
"that's right, I bet you'd love that huh baby girl? you want his hot cum deep inside you hmm? maybe i should fuck his cum out you..."
"y-yes! I want it inside m-me..."
"give it to her suguru, cum inside her."
"I-im cumming 'toru!" suguru grips your hips as his white hot load fills you up deep inside, at the same time you see sprouts of white liquid dripping down satoru's fist. he rubs the remaining cum on his cocked on your lips, letting you lick his cum-covered fingers clean.
you feel suguru pull out of you, pulling back on his boxers. satoru spreads out on the bed, his softening cock out proudly. and then there was you. what were you suppose to do after a threesome anyway?
"come cuddle with us suguru," satoru smiled, motioning you to come closer next to him. he threw an arm behind your head, while suguru laid on your other side, pulling an arm around your waist. you felt warm and fuzzy.
you don't know how you guys managed, but the three of you slept peacefully and snug on the single queen bed. you may have won the women's championship, but the real award was this night spent together.
#jjk smut#satosugu#satosugu x reader#gojo saturo#jjk x reader#gojou satoru x reader#geto suguru#suguru x reader#gojo smut#geto x reader#geto smut#jujutsu kaisen geto#jujutsu kaisen gojo#my work
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vii. the in-between - t.w.
pairing: female driver! x toto wolff
word count: 5.2k
warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down
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“it’s fine, mom. really.”
bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure.
“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.”
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake!
rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.”
all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo.
with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.”
that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will.
“where is dad? is he asleep?”
yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan?
“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?”
oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers?
letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.”
what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel.
“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.”
okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks.
nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.”
me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you.
“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent.
fuck, were you homesick.
you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time.
you always did when it came to your parents.
also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion.
somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen.
you had to make that happen.
you had to.
currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top.
this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home.
yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home.
this man was billionaire, after all.
buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text.
from none other than toto wolff.
the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door.
i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter.
oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you.
(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival)
with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers.
additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race.
on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.
although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair..
however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind.
a crisp knock rang out, startling you.
springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting.
“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”
“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”
“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”
“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”
“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”
following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.
upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy.
“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”
“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”
“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”
“so you know who i am?”
“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”
“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull.
“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”
as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.
this was no quaint english cottage.
toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”
“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”
“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”
rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears.
this was really happening.
you were really staying with toto.
“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”
“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”
“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.”
“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”
“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”
he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.
no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness.
you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries.
out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual.
he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows.
yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up.
“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”
“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest.
“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”
“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?”
“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”
“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”
“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”
“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”
in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.
“charming, isn’t he?”
“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”
“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll.
“i can’t stand you.”
“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”
“you made me lunch?”
“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”
“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”
“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”
as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.
the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold.
this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay.
“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”
“your home is beautiful.”
glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”
trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”
“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”
“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”
looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”
at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”
“fuck me.”
“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”
“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”
“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”
“show me then.”
“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”
as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.
fuck, he missed you.
he missed you more than he liked to admit.
tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.
but he couldn’t. not there.
in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back.
there was not a single coherent thought in his mind.
only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole.
scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress.
“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”
“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”
jesus fucking christ.
he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.
there was no going back.
he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.
the things he wanted to do to you?
downright filthy. sinful, even
he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on.
however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread.
peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”
you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him.
god, you were absolutely breathtaking.
every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark.
you were so fucking beautiful.
his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come.
yet, your hands find his, “let me.”
toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.
fuck. fuck. fuck.
could this moment last forever?
“toto.”
“yes?”
“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”
oh god.
this was going to ruin him.
just like he was going to ruin you.
“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”
you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”
pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”
“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure.
yeah, he was going to ruin you.
he was going to make a mess out of you.
“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words.
kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you.
he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.
carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through.
his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.
“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”
“please toto.”
swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching.
your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia.
perhaps he could get a taste.
“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”
“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”
skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth.
fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two.
“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.
“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”
“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”
oh god.
oh, fuck.
his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.
could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?
before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.
he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space.
as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”
“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”
as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure.
you unravel, coming undone.
that sight alone was enough to make him cum.
“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”
the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out.
the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple.
“i’m sorry.”
“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent.
“going too far.”
“that was not too far.”
tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks.
“if i ever go too far, let me know.”
“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.”
“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”
however, a gleam catches your eye.
on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring.
his wedding band.
toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”
“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”
oh, so you had noticed.
“it’s complicated.”
“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”
“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”
although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”
“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.”
“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”
“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”
although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.
you were making him weak. his little soft spot.
well, not so little these days.
“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.
“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”
“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”
“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”
“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”
“all right.”
“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?”
for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat.
the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears.
“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”
“soften the blow?”
“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”
“you don’t know that for–”
“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”
biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.
toto was right. you had made your decision.
it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts.
“i’m right, aren’t i?”
“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”
“then let me help you.”
“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”
“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head.
“you hear me? i’ll help you.”
“can we just worry about it later?”
“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”
“i would.”
your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings?
sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.
“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”
“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”
“clearly.”
before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.
“open it. right now.”
“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”
“open it.”
“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper.
underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.
“what is this?”
“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.
opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.
it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm.
“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?”
“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”
“like it? i love it.”
well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished.
a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.
“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”
“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”
“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”
as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.
you had made your decision.
you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision.
you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season.
you were finally going to be by his side every day.
there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel.
he had you.
you were all his now.
and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth.
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
taglist: @joalslibrary @martwll @prettiest-at-the-party @pucksandpower @kravitzwhore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @annewithaneofthegreengable @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010 @whoisss @sinners-98-world
if i missed anyone, please let me know! also, you are more than welcome to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3
#toto wolff#toto wolff x reader#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#toto wolff smut#toto wolff x y/n#toto wolff x you#female driver au#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#daniel ricciardo#max verstappen
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Earned It
based on this ask! || omg guys, you have no idea how much I missed my twins </3 love them w/ all my heart ♡
summary ✦ having sex with your boyfriend, Scott, while his brother watches.
“scotty, stop playing around with me..” you whine as his clothed cock thrusted into your clothed core. his pants were still on, and you could see the buldge sitting uncomfortably through them. your panties were still on. those cute, white, silky ones with a small bow in the middle; that he really liked. “I can play with you all I want. isn’t that what you told me last time, baby? said that I could do anything I fuckin’ wanted with you.” he coos, still thrusting, but this time, slower.
“an’ now that im actually doing it, you’re whining. did you really mean what you said, or were you just drunk off my cock, hm? pretty sure that was the case, princess, cause I remember that pussy clingin’ onto me all bad when you said it.” he continues, now pulling the hem of your underwear down. you stayed silent, not answering him out of embarrassment. its not like he minded, but he sure was gonna tease you about it. “ts’ the matter, dolly? cat caught your tongue?” he smirked devishly and finally removed your underwear, revealing your soaking cunt.
“damn, baby. all this for me?” he asks, running his middle and ring finger up and down your folds. you choke out a moan as a response, earning you a small smile from your pretty boyfriend.. but not just your boyfriend. his twin brother, too. scott had a camera in his room, which he forgot his brother had access to through an app on his phone since they had the same kind of camera that they purchased at the same time. sam monroe, who stalked you and his brother doing such un-cleanly things through an app.
sam was stroking his cock while watching all of this. he didnt pay attention to scott, cause that'd be weird, but everything scott did to you is what sam focused on. the way his brothers fingers lovingly caressed your clit, sometimes fingering it. sam stopped touching himself for a while, while scott ate you out and fingered you for a little bit, but once you were sat down on your boyfriends cock, bouncing up and down reverse cowgirl style.. sam couldnt resist stroking himself to that. the way scotts hands gripped your waist and how he'd fuck himself into you here and there. the way your eyebrows were slightly knitted together and your cute noises in rhythm will the sound of skin slapping against each other.. it was too much for sam.
so much so that he started to moan.. loud. loud enough for scott to hear. their rooms were right next to each other, and the walls weren't that thick. you were feeling too good to actually pay attention and hear sam from next door, but scott was. he immediately knew. he remembered the camera. he looked straight at it, or course, sam wouldnt know since you were blocking scott. but scott became a little angry. how the hell could his brother do something so nasty.. he knew sam had a little crush on you, but he never thought he would do something so desperate like this.
the more scott thought about it, the angrier he got. and the angrier he got, the harder he started to pound into you from the bottom. you caught the memo that he was now the one to put in the work and get the job done. it took a few different positions and at least 15 more minutes, but after that, scott filled you up with his warm cum, which made you let out the prettiest whimper that both monroes had ever heard. scott noticed the way your cunt was drooling his cum out, and it gave him an idea. he quickly picked up the camera and gave it (sam) a good look. the alternative brother was a little scared, knowing he had been caught but was also somewhat thanking his brother for blessing him with such a sight. they'd probably get into a fist fight after this, leaving both with bruises, busted up lips, and one with a black eye—but sam didnt care about that right now. cause all he focused on was the thought of him filling you up. with the image of that in his head, he came and whimpered out your name.
“scotty.. why are you??” your boyfriend shushes you. “I have an app for this camera on my phone. it caught everything we did. starting from the making out, all the way to me cumming in you.. just wanted to get a good close up so I could jerk off to it later, maybe.” he somewhat lies and tells the truth at the same time. you brushed it off and got comfy on scotts bed, turning yourself to the wall, and closing your eyes. scott turned the camera to him real quick and mouthed out, “you sick fuck.” and then turned it off so that he could take care of you for the rest of the time.
sam knew this was gonna end up ugly.. but at least he got to see you naked instead of having to imagine it while he jerks off.
｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ
taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @heartsforanakin @anisscarletstarlet @sockiess @erosmutt @rottencandyblood @radiantvader @freezerbride95 @starsfortaylor @maevesversion @emmaloo21 🎀
#sam monroe#scott monroe#junes AU 💓#sam and scott monroe#sam monroe imagine#sam x reader#sam life as a house#sam smut#scott barringer x you#scott barringer smut#scott and sam monroe#scott barringer x reader#scott barringer imagine#scott higher ground#hayden christensen#hayden christensen imagine#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen fic#hayden christensen smut
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𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 | 𝘫𝘩86 ♔
➪ summary: jack's date night plans with his girl get changed when he finds out she hasn't been feeling like herself lately
➪ warnings: insecurities, body talk, being compared
➪ word count: 2.4k
➪ file type: fic
➪ sunny's notes: ahhh another favorite of mine, i legit had so much fun reading this. this was from my previous amazing beautiful teddy bear anon whom i miss very much i hope you guys enjoy this one once again! :)
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Now it wasn’t all the time that Jack got to have a night off in the middle of the season, so date nights out in New Jersey were a rare thing to come back for him and his girlfriend. In actuality, date nights like tonight were a rare occasion for the couple. Y/n wasn’t a fan of going out in public, and not in the sense that she didn’t want to be seen with Jack, because of course, she did. It is more in the sense that she didn’t want to be seen by the paparazzi, especially when she was caught off guard and didn’t have time to think about how she looked.
It wasn’t often that she was insecure, at least this much. There were some days where it would start bad and progressively get worse throughout the day, some days where it was just bad, and other days where it was the furthest thing in her mind what she looked like (the days where she would be eating pizza with no work to do and watching Jack’s game from the comfort of her living room).
Today had been one of the days where it got progressively worse throughout the day, which made sense because of the growing anxiety every time she looked at the time and it would be closer to when she had to start getting ready. It’s not that she wasn’t excited for date night, because she was, she was over the moon that she got to spend the night with Jack, but she just didn’t understand why they had to go out to do it.
She sat in their shared closet when she got home from work, trying to figure out what she wanted to wear. She had been through at least five different outfits, all of them now surrounding her on the ground. She finally settled on a black dress, one that she had worn plenty of times, and liked the way she looked in it every time she did. She started to pull it up and groaned when she realized she had to zip it up, not having the energy to do it at the moment. So she settled on doing the only thing she knew to do, “Jack!”
Jack came rushing into the bedroom, running down the hallway and catching himself on the door frame so he wouldn’t continue sliding, “What- what’s wrong?”
She turned around and giggled when she saw him. His shirt was unbuttoned and a little wrinkled on the inside edges, his hair a mess, and his tie the loosest it could be while still being tied, he looked like he just came from a college party.
She shook her head and walked over to him, running a hand through his hair and kissing his cheek, “Nothing, I just need your help zipping my dress up.”
It was only then that Jack looked at her up and down, grinning when he saw what she was wearing, “I love this dress on you.”
Her cheeks lightly turned pink at his statement, walking back to the mirror to fix the dress and how it lay on her. Jack grinned even more when he noticed the color of her cheeks, “Good to know I can still make you blush this much after a year.”
He walked over to her and placed his hands on her hips, leaning his head down so his chin was resting on her shoulder. He looked at her through the mirror, watching as she fixed her necklace and earrings, fiddled with her hair so it laid just how she wanted it to and straightened her dress, and tugged at the fabric against her stomach to stop it from clinging to her skin. He didn’t think much of it initially and just moved the hair away from the left side to the right and turned to kiss her lightly on the neck. The action caused her to shiver a little but ultimately left her with a smile.
Jack stood up and hit her butt, “Jack!” He ignored her and zipped up her dress. When he finished he went to hit her butt once more but furrowed his brows in confusion when he didn’t hear the usual scold that followed it.
He looked back up in the mirror to find her with a frown on her face and her hands fiddling with the edges of her dress. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he quietly asked, “What is it?”
She shook her head, not wanting to draw attention to it that much, “Nothing Jacky, I think I’m just gonna put on some tights underneath it and maybe some shorts.”
Normally, he would’ve let this slide. It was the middle of January and it was cold out, he knew she would be cold the moment they stepped outside if she left her legs bare. But, with the look on her face now and the pile of clothes sitting in their closet that he noticed when he walked in, told him all the different. His grip tightened on her waist once he felt her trying to get out of it to head to do what she told him, “Stop.”
“Jacky, we’re gonna be late.”
“Don’t do this- don’t do this to yourself.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She shied away from the mirror, trying to at least turn around to face him instead of continuing to look at herself. He huffed at her words and tightened his hold once more, “C’mon, baby. Tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell, let's just go before they decide they don’t want to serve us.”
“We are not leaving this apartment, this room until you tell me what’s going on even though you know I know what you’re pretty little head is thinking about right now.”
She stopped fighting and looked down, causing Jack to spin her around and lift her chin so her eyes were looking directly into his, “Talk to me.”
“It’s just one of those days, I guess.”
He knew there was more, he always knew. Jack knew about how she didn’t like going out for date nights because she didn’t want to have any unexpected pictures taken of her, how she hated posting on Instagram because she’s always scared that the only comments she’ll get are one’s commenting about how ‘ugly’ she looked, that she hated summer because she could never wear what all the others girls were wearing and feel good about it, and that she hated going to his games wearing his jersey because girls always made comments about him never wanting to be with her. So yes, he knew she was lying when she said that.
“I know that’s not all that’s bothering you, sweetheart. And you know that too,”
He backed up to sit on the chest that was sitting in front of their bed. She knew and hated when he did that because the next thing he did was pat his left thigh so she would come and sit there. She hated that she knew that she would do it anyway because Jack would sit and pout if she didn’t. And most of all, she hated those puppy dog eyes of him.
This time, however, she was determined to stand her ground, “No. I’m putting tights and shorts on and then we’re leaving.”
Jack rolled his eyes but kept sitting. She stared at him and he had no problem with staring right back, one of their daily staring contests that happened. When Jack broke eye contact, she cheered a little before heading into the closet to do what she said she was going to. Rules were rules, when someone won the staring contest they won the argument, within reason of course.
He sat patiently on the trunk as he watched her close the door of the closet. He knew this was not only one of those days, but one of the worst days she had. He knocked on the door and halted her actions, “But your sweats on.”
“What?”
“I said put your sweats on, my hoodie, and get your pretty ass out to the living room in five minutes. Take your makeup off too and put your hair up.”
She was confused but ultimately was fine with his words. Wearing sweats definitely beats having to wear tights and shorts and a dress. And wearing his hoodie? That beat everything. Jack sat in the living room calling the restaurant to cancel the reservation, ordering her favorite food, and putting on her favorite movie.
She came out five minutes later and sat on the couch, crossing her legs. Jack wrapped one of his arms around her waist and pulled her into his side as close as he could without her being on top of him, not that he would have minded her there in the slightest, “Talk to me, please.”
His voice sounded like he was pleading, and he was. He wanted to make all of her insecurities go away, shower her with love, and make her feel loved. And if he accomplished that and was able to cuddle her, he would be more than okay to do this every day instead of going out.
She sighed and Jack gave her his hand so she could fiddle with her fingers, something she always did when she got anxious, “I wasn’t lying when I said it was one of those days.”
She took a deep breath before continuing, “It’s just- that dress was the dress I could always count on myself knowing I would look good in. I don’t usually have to think about it too hard, I could just put it on and go. When you zipped it up, I could tell it fit a little tighter than it usually did and it just felt…” She couldn’t exactly describe what she felt, how she felt. If you knew the feeling, you knew the feeling.
Tears pricked at her eyes as she gripped his hand tighter, “I just want to feel pretty Jack.”
That absolutely, utterly, broke, no shattered, his heart. He hated that his girl had to feel like this, hated that society had made it so not only her but every girl that didn’t look like the stereotypical one had to feel like they weren’t beautiful. At that moment, caring about whether or not she would think she was crushing him flew out of his mind and he pulled her into his lap. She didn’t even have the energy to protest and dug her head into his shoulder.
His own tears welled up in his eyes as he listened to her cry, it was one of his least favorite sounds in the whole world, maybe the worst sound he’s ever heard. He let her cry for a few minutes before pulling her head away and cupping her face with both of his hands. She sniffled, reaching her hand up to wipe her nose and Jack wiped the tears for her. She was glad that she had decided to take her makeup off after contemplating it for a few minutes.
“I want you to listen to me, y/n. And please, actually listen to me.”
She nodded, still trying to rid of the remnants of her crying off of her face, “You are beautiful, no matter who tells you differently. I will always think you’re beautiful. I know that self-love is the most important kind of love there is and it breaks my heart every time I see you look at yourself a little longer in the mirror in the mornings or when you pull at the fabric of your shirt while you’re working at the kitchen table. And I am more than willing to help you feel beautiful all day every day.
“I know that you’re not going to feel pretty all of the time, everyone has those days. Even me, pretty boy Hughes.”
His comment made her laugh a little and he smiled when he heard it, that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. He smiled a little more when he felt her hand run through his hair, “There’s my girl.”
This comment makes her blush instead and that causes him to smile even more, “And there is the blush that I still cannot believe I make you do. Somehow you just got ten times more gorgeous.”
Her cheeks reddened even more and he chuckled a little at it this time. He moved his hands from her head to her hips, his thumbs resting under his sweatshirt and rubbing soft circles into her skin, “There will always be someone to say something, trust me and I wish I could take it all away so it wouldn’t hurt you. But, I want you to know that I love you for you and I could never imagine myself loving anyone else.
“Anyone could have a model as their girlfriend or their wife, but only I can have you. And that’s what makes me love you, y/n. Not the way you look, though I adore how you look, but instead the way you smile when you see me every time, the way you always cuddle me after a rough game, the way you know when something is wrong, the way you treat everyone like they hung the stars, and the way you moan-”
“Jack!”
He laughed, throwing his head back in the process, his hands subtly tightening on her hips, “My point is, before you so rudely interrupted me listing the things I love about you.” She slapped his arm before smiling at him, “You don’t need to live up to anyone else’s expectations of beautiful when you think you are. As long as you think you’re beautiful that’s all that matters, as long as you do it for you and not for anyone else.”
Tears pricked at her eyes once more, this time out of love and happiness, “I love you so so much, Jacky.”
He kissed her cheek and then kissed her, making her jump in shock a little before melting into the kiss. His hands moved further up underneath her sweatshirt and he moved to kiss her neck, causing her to let out a soft moan when he hit her sensitive spot right on the dot. That made him grin as he pulled away. That was his favorite sound in the world.
⬂ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗝𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲𝘆 𝗗𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂
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SLEEP 🕒 - L. Heeseung
🕒Pairing: Heeseung X fem reader!
🕒Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, cursing.
🕒Synopsis: it’s late, and you can’t sleep, but luckily, your best friend knows just the trick to help you out.
🕒Wc: 1,5k (Drabble)
-
Sighing to yourself, you set your phone down on the lamp stand after you noticed it was literally three in the morning.
You and your best friend had been watching movies talking and hanging out since ten and you hadn’t even noticed the time till now.
“You sleepy?” He turned to you just in time to catch you rubbing your strained eyes.
“Yes, it’s like three am, hee,” you groggily reply, turning on your left side facing away from him.
“Oh shit, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he chuckled. You could tell he was just as tired by how deep his voice had gotten.
“It's alright.” He set his phone aside as well and leaned up against the headboard.
“I guess I better get going.” On cue, he lets out a yawn.
“Are you crazy? It’s so late out you might as well just spend the night” you mumble out.
He rubbed his chin in thought; he was really tired, and driving probably wasn’t the best idea right now. “I didn’t bring anything for a sleepover.”
“Just wear whatever,” you respond, on the verge of passing out.
You feel a dip in the bed and hear him shuffling around. He takes off his pants and his flannel before he slips under the covers with you.
For most, it’d probably seem weird, a guy and a girl sleeping in the same bed, but the number of times you both knocked out together while studying during your high school and college days made this one of the most normal things between you two. “Goodnight, y/n. I might be gone before you wake up.”
“Just make sure to lock the door in the morning night, hee,” you whispered, turning off your lamp while he did the same after you.
You readjusted to get comfortable and pressed your cheek against your pillow, waiting for sleep to come over you.
Ten minutes passed, and sleep never came. You were tired, but for some reason, you just couldn’t fall asleep.
“Ugh,” you groaned and quickly cupped your mouth so you wouldn’t wake heeseung up with the racket.
Little did you know he was still wide awake.
“Y/n?” He asks, followed by a beat of silence. “You’re still up too?” He says with a hint of amusement in his tone. At least he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping.
“Yes,” you laid flat on your back, copying his resting position. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m tired, but I just can’t seem to sleep,” you respond in the pitch-black bedroom.
“Same,” he sighs, folding his arms over his chest.
You both lay there in silence for a few minutes until he says something that completely catches you off guard.
“I read that having an orgasm can help you fall asleep,” he says casually.
You giggle and push his shoulder, or at least you think it was his shoulder. It was so dark you really couldn’t see. “And where did you read that?”
“The internet, of course, says it has something to do with the release of oxytocin or some shit” he lets out an airy laugh putting his hands behind his head.
“Interesting,” you hum.
“It is, works like a charm for me,” he says through a yawn.
“TMI”
“Oh please, we’ve talked about so much shit that this is PG,” he scoffs.
“Yeah, but not you touching yourself.” You cringe as the words leave your mouth.
“I didn’t say anything like that. All I said was it works,” he shrugs even though you can’t see him.
“Whatever,” you say, too tired to argue with him.
It’s silent again, and the idea he mentioned sounds a lot more appealing than laying here all night without getting any sleep.
But you can’t necessarily try out this little theory of his with him in your room, so that idea was out the window.
“You still up?” He checks on you a minute later, and you hum in response. “I mean, I could give you one if you want,” he holds in his laugh, knowing that you’re about to chastise him.
“Lee heeseung, stop it this instant,” you tell him sternly.
“Okay, okay, just thought I’d ask. I’m your bestie, and besties look out for each other, right?” He continues to push your little buttons.
“Yeah, by giving a shoulder to cry on, not giving each other orgasms,” you huff out a breath.
A thought popped into your head: you weren’t getting any sleep anytime soon, and since he wanted to mess with you, two could play that game. “I mean, you could,” the words leave your mouth in a nonchalant manner.
He gasped, not expecting you to match his humor. Most times, you didn’t when it came to something sexual. “Knock it off. It’s weird when you joke about it,” he laughs.
“Who said I’m joking?” You taunt.
“Cause the y/n I know would never,” he says confidently, thinking he knows you like the back of his hand, and normally he does, but just not when you’re sleep-deprived.
“What about the y/n who’s in desperate need of sleep and will do anything just to catch a few hours before work in the morning?”
His ears are perked up now, the soft, sultry tone of your voice alerting him instantly. “You’re really not joking, are you?”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?” You shift closer to him, and he feels your body heat right away, making his heart beat faster in his chest.
“I-I y/n, if you’re joking, just tell me.” his voice shakes a little, the slightest hint of a whimper traveling close behind his words.
Calling it quits with talking, you find his hand in the dark and grip his wrist, guiding him right between your legs. “Hee, I’d never joke about this,” you gasped as his warm hand cups over your mound.
“Fuck” he whispers and props himself on his side, slowly gliding his hand between your legs. “You really are serious, huh?” His voice sounds even huskier than it did before as he confidently presses your clit over your sleep shorts.
“Yes, hee,” you whine, desperation dripping from your voice as you clench your thighs around his hand, keeping it firmly nestled against you.
“Shit, okay, turn over for me” You get back in your original position, your back now pressed against his chest, his crotch a few inches away from your backside. “Now close your eyes.” his hot breath tickles your ear.
You do as he says, too tired to even think twice about what you’re getting ready to engage in with your best friend.
His two middle fingers rub circles on your clit, working you up quicker than you could have ever imagined. You’re already leaking a bit of precum.
“Mmm,” you moan softly. His fingers felt so good, especially when he slipped them further down, teasing your entrance while his palm rubbed your clit.
Your hand caressed the one that was between your legs, tracing the veins along the back of his hand. “Does that feel good?” He swallowed thickly, his lower body pressing against you unintentionally.
“Yes, hee, so good” he humps your backside, his swollen cock being stimulated by the softness of your plush bottom.
“Yeah, so good,” he whispers in your ear. You feel so good you don’t even notice the way he ruts against you, the movement of his hips forcing your waist to roll against his palm more, bringing you even more satisfaction.
“I’m so close, hee, I’m gonna cum” you cry out, body shuddering as the warmth and pleasure builds in your lower region.
“Shhh, I know, I know,” he breathes out heavily, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and a few more rolls of his hips. You’re both coming undone together, panting exhaustedly.
He rubs you through it, whispering encouraging words in your ear like. “Yeah, feels so good, doesn’t it?” “Let it all out,” “Keep cumming” “That’s it.”
The pleasure goes on for so long that another orgasm follows after giving you the most intense pleasure you’ve ever experienced. “Hee,” you whimper his name, your body trembling against his as you shudder in the aftermath of cumming back to back.
He nuzzles against you, cuddling you and helping you ground yourself until you catch your breath.
He’s still struggling to calm himself with how hard he just came. He hasn’t cum that fast and that much in a while. “Was that good?” He asked timidly into your hair, releasing a deep breath.
“Mmm,” you moan in response, your eyelids finally feeling so heavy that you can barely open them.
But you couldn’t forget about heeseung, so you flipped over on your side, your forehead touching his. “What about you?” You slowly reach into his boxers, gripping the base of his length, feeling a good amount of wetness covering his shaft.
“Ahh, s-sensitive,” he moans shakily.
You retract your hand right away. “Did you-“ he cuts you off, nodding against your forehead, and you slowly pull your hand out of his underwear.
“I’m good,” he assures you. “Let’s sleep now yeah? We’ll clean up in the morning” his words sound slurred and you can barely even understand what he’s saying cause you’re so tired.
Apparently, whatever he read about orgasms was true cause you’ve never fallen asleep faster.
-
Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️
#enhypen heeseung#enhypen#heeseung#lee heeseung#enha heeseung#engene#heeseung smut#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen heeseung smut#lee heeseung smut#heeseung angst#heeseung x reader#enhypen fanfic#heeseung fic#heeseung fluff#enhypen lee heeseung smut#lee heeseung angst
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i was thinking about mingyu accidentally saw you masturbating from your apartment across his. you notice him and you guys masturbate to each other, you squirting, his cum shooting on the window. he goes over to your place and he fucks you against the window, manhandling you, calling you a slut.
💪🏻 .ᐟ.ᐟ across the street
incognito thot : (the above ask)
tw : voyeurism ,, fem reader ,, having sex with strangers idk
MDNI
The first time it happens was an accident. You'd had a rough day and wanted to treat yourself with some wine and some self-indulgence. You weren't completely naked, you had a little tank top on and you had just pushed your underwear to the side to dig your fingers in. Though it didn't hide much from the strong muscular man who lived in the apartment right across the street. You didn't notice your curtains had beef opened, giving a full show to the man standing by his own window staring at you. His expression was hard to see, but you could tell that he had a beautiful face and a beautiful body. Embarrassed, you ran to the bathroom and his yourself.
You had successfully forgotten that incident with a little too much wine and a heavy sleep that night. A few days later, you saw the man again. You were home later than usual, going to your bedroom to change our of your work clothes. You didn't know what came over your mind at that moment. Maybe it was the man's finely sculpted shirtless body that had turned the hots in you.
He was looking at you and you at him, as you smirked, unbuttoning your work shirt seductively, pulling it off your shoulder. Your trousers came down next leaving you in your matching lace lingerie, which you wouldn't wear normally on such a day but since your laundry was pending it was all you had left to wear and you were glad for it.
The man cocked an eyebrow, almost challengingly. It brought some kind of confidence in you and you stripped out of your undergarments too, giving him a full show of your boobs and ass as you did so. You licked your lips, settling on the bed and opening your legs wide, touching your exposed clitoris which had been throbbing from the excitement of the voyeur already.
The man took a seat on the top of the table right against his window, his dick pulled out as he stroked it while watching you. You put on two fingers inside your soaking cunt, your head thrown back. (If the old man who lived one apartment above the man's looks out of his window at that moment, he might just die from a heart attack).
You increase the speed of your fingers, already close by, reaching to pinch your pebbled nipples in your other hand. You think of the man and his huge cock and his sculpted body as your eyes close and you cum, body shivering with the rush of dopamine and adrenaline in your body.
When you open your eyes, the man was panting, the window in front of him painted with the translucent white semen. You see him rush to get something on his table - a paper and pen you realise. He scribbles down something and flashes it against the window glass.
Can I come over?
You chuckled and signalled approvingly, causing the man to jump and put on a pair of pants, leaving the apartment. He crossed the street as fast as he could, just a pair of sweats and a tshirt thrown in his body. He guessed the floor number and trusted his sense of direction when he luckily knocked on your door.
You opened the door giggling, pulling him inside since you were still completely naked. He pulled you into a kiss and you reciprocated immediately, sucking into his bottom lip. He pulled his t-shirt off his body and you helped him pull down his sweats, finding his dick hard and throbbing with the absense of any underwear. "Oh my god, it's even bigger up close," you giggle.
You two walked to your bedroom, while kissing and exploring each other's bare body with your hands. The man pushed you against the same window you voyeured him through, sinking thick two digits inside your cunt. "Shit, such a slut, having your pussy pliant and open for a stranger."
You whimpered as he mocked you, nibbling on the skin on your shoulder. "second drawer on the nightstand -- there's condoms."
Mingyu rummaged through the drawer without letting go of you, pulling the hot pink coloured box of Durex. He chuckled, "babe, this is a medium size. It's not gonna fit me."
You whined as he curled his fingers against your spongy spot. "Well, I never thought I was gonna have luck with a monster like you! Looks like you're gonna go in raw."
"I feel bad for you having to fuck all those average guys. This pussy is made in heaven, it deserves a big dick," mingyu said pulling out his fingers and licking the juices off them. He lines his dick with your entrance, making you bend till your arms rested on the window sill. "don't worry though, I'm gonna treat this pussy just right."
He plunged into you, your arousal and his precum acting as the perfect lubricant. You could feel his balls slap the hell outta your clit as his hips rutted into yours, hitting you deep everytime. You let out loud whimpering moans as he hits your ass, making it red. Your body shakes with the rhythm, making your boobs bounce like from those animated porn movies. You already feel close to your orgasm and you think you could come untouched already.
The man comes first though, pulling out just in time to cum on your ass. He reaches down to massage your clit, soon drawing and orgasm from you. He picks you up, chuckling when he sees your fucked out face.
"my name's mingyu, by the way."
You giggle, "hi mingyu, I'm (y/n). Welcome to the neighbourhood."
#svt smut#svt#svt x reader#mingyu#kim mingyu#mingyu smut#mingyu x reader#kim mingyu smut#kim mingyu x reader#seventeen#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader
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My winner ~ JB5
Parrings ~ Jude Bellingham x reader
Summary ~ you and Jude have been dating since his Birmingham days and he finally got the two things he’s dreamed of.
Warnings ~ super fluffy in the beginning, then… p in v(unprotected don’t do this!), creampie(2), praise, a little subby Jude, pet names.
A/N ~ enjoy☺️!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You and Jude have been dating since his Birmingham days. You had moved into his neighborhood when you were 6-7 and you and Jude quickly became friends. You went to every match you could. Once you got older you and Jude confessed your feelings to each other.
That’s when things got serious, you convinced your parents to move to Germany with him, the only reason they said yes was because Denise, Jude’s mom, would be with you guys.
You were with him the whole time at Germany, going through the bad and good times with that club.
Then he moved to Madrid, you knew that was his dream and when he had made the deal with them. He was in tears and hugging you and you couldn’t stop telling him how happy you were of him.
The move to Madrid was easy, the only hard part being not understanding people. But you and Jude took lessons together.
You were happy watching his achievements in the LaLiga, and the Champions League. Getting man of the match, and player of the month.
Now sat with his family watching the Champions League final. You were sat next to Jobe; squeezing his hand when Jude would fall to the ground, or when Madrid had a chance to score but missed.
When Madrid got the first goal you jumped out of your seat cheering, the hugging Jobe tightly. Then a few minutes later, Jude assisted Vini. You watched as Jude fell to his knees, he knew they won it.
The Jude got subbed off and you couldn’t stop bouncing your leg in the final minutes. When Dortmund had scored, you accidentally squeezed Jobe’s hand to tight and he winced in pain. “Sorry.” You mumbled to him and he just nodded his head rubbing his hand to sooth it.
But the goal was offsides and Jobe gave you a massive side eye. When that final whistle blew you were so happy and proud. Hugging Jobe tight and rocking side to side. Then hugging Mark and Denise.
You watched as he got his medal, and lifted the trophy. Celebrating with his teammates. He whispered something to one of the coaches, who then smiled at him and left. Jude coming over to you and his family. You stood back wanting him to have a moment with his family first.
He then walked over to you waiting by the barrier. He smiled at you and lifted you over the barrier placing you on the other side with him. He then kissed you deeply earning some cheers from the Madrid crowd that was still there. He pulled you with him to walk.
“Jude I’m so incredibly proud of you, I know this is your dream and you e finally accomplished it.” You spoke and stopped walking turning to him and grabbing his face to look at him. “Your family is definitely proud of you more than me.” You said thumb stroking his cheek. “I’m just happy you’re here and I wouldn’t want any other girl to celebrate this, you’re my girl and only my girl.” He spoke with a smile on his face looking at you with his brown eyes that were just full of love.
You and Jude walk to some of his teammates, while you talk to some of his teammates. Cama and Tchouameni you haven’t even noticed Jude disappear and come back. All you remember was the two men in front of you smirking but you didn’t think much of it.
“Come with me.” Jude said holding out his hand. You gladly take it and he walks you to the middle of the pitch. “What-.” You say but Jude’s stops you. “Just listen.” He says and takes a deep breath.
“You’ve been with me my whole life practically, you’ve watched me from academy, to Birmingham, to Dortmund, to now in Madrid, you’ve been with me through my highs and lows, you’ve been there to comfort me after a bad match, you’ve been my shoulder to cry on, I truly can’t see myself with anyone else but you.” He spoke with love and sincere.
You watched him as he gets on one knee and pull out a black box. “So will you marry me.” He asked opening the box but fumbles a little from nerves. You stare at him with tears in your eyes. “Yes Jude, I’ll marry you.” You said with a sob. He quickly puts the ring on your finger and stands up pulling you into a loving kiss. Cheers erupting from behind you, from his family, and his teammates.
You blush deeply as Jude pulls away and leans his head on your forehead. “I love you.” He whispers. “I love you too.” You say back.
You and Jude turn to walk back to his teammates and you walk over to his family. His teammates giving him little pats on the back and praise. “It’s beautiful.” Denise said holding your hand looking at the ring. “I’m so happy for you both, I always knew you’d both last forever.” She said pulling you into a hug. Mark and Jobe joining.
Jude comes over and joins the hug also planting a kiss on your head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You and Jude are back at the hotel you’ve been staying at the past couple of days. He immediately pushes you to the bed kissing you and not pulling away. “Let me give you my proper celebration first.” You said pulling away. “Ok baby, but then it’s my turn.” He said flipping over so he’s laying on the bed. You smirk and start taking all his clothes off.
Once he’s got all his clothes off, you take all of yours off. You climb onto of him, jerking his cock off and spread the pre cum around his tip. You line him up and sink down onto him in one go. You let out a soft moan and he lets out a groan gripping your hips.
You start rocking your hips slowly to get used to him a little more. “Please baby faster.” Jude begs and the grip on your hips tighten. “Anything for my winner.” You said speeding up you movements and adding a little bounce. You smirk as an idea comes to mind.
You grab the medal around his neck and tug it slightly. Jude letting out a small groan. His cock twitching a little inside you.
You smirk and do it again. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He moans out thrusting his hips into you. “Cum for me, cum inside me Jude, I’m right with you.” You bend down and whisper into his ear with a moan. He cock twitches before his cum paints your inside. The feeling of it making you cum right behind him.
Taking a little breather, he pulls out and can feel both your cum dripping out. He flips you both over so he’s on top. Thrusting back into you. “Fuck Jude!” You moan out. He goes fast, skin clapping filling the room. “Such a good girl for me.” He mumbles looking down where he’s going in and out.
You tug on his medal again and pull it for him to come down and pull him for a kiss. “Jude, Jude im gonna cum again.” You moan into the kiss. “Cum for me darling.” He said pulling away and taking a hand to rub your clit. That sends you over the edge and you cum around him your pussy clenching around him. “Fuck I’m cumming!” He said doing one final thrust and cums inside again.
You both breathing heavily. He pulls out and kisses you softly before going to the bathroom and getting a warm cloth cleaning you up. Then grabbing you pajamas to put on, helping you but then on. He just throws on a pair of boxers and basketball shorts.
“Goodnight my soon to be wife.” He whispered pulling you to his chest kissing your head. “Goodnight my soon to be husband.” You say back with a whisper and kiss his bare chest.
#jude bellingham#judes-hoe😚#jude bellingham drabble#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham imagine#ucl final#eduardo camavinga#aurelien tchouameni#jobe Bellingham
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Okay I'm on my 5th rewatch of Dead Boy Detectives and I have to know if anyone else finds it funny (and a little bit maddening) that in episode 6 when Monty needs help finding his fake ghost friend Gladys it's CHARLES who dismisses him immediately?
Like... they go so far as to make a point of showing us multiple reactions to his dismissal. First Crystal, who has no reason to believe the boys will turn down Monty's case due to Edwin's assumed crush and Charles' people-pleasing nature. She agrees to the case quickly because it's the perfect distraction for the boys and will buy her time to get her powers back... but then, to her shock, Charles turns down the case!! Charles who is all about gentleness and "Bedside manner," who cares deeply about being a "Good guy" and about being liked, the guy plagued with worry about how he is perceived by others and who never wants to disappoint anyone, the guy who is suuuuuper sentimental, protective, has a strong sense of justice, and is notably dedicated to protecting his friends and helping the people he cares about at quite literally any cost.
Even Monty is surprised, too!! It's clear that Monty anticipates Edwin's lingering guilt and old-fashioned sensibilities regarding decorum and conflict avoidance to be enough motivation for him to take on the case, that Edwin would agree just to avoid adding any more animosity or awkward tension to an already delicate situation. Monty had to know, going in, that he really only had to get through to Charles (who he admittedly had neglected in the past and been cold to in previous interactions due to his crush on Edwin). Considering Charles' easy-going nature, this should have been quite easy as Edwin is a much harder person to win over, whereas Charles is quick to see the good in others!! That's why he compliments Charles (despite the sentiment being disingenuous) and contrives a story that, knowing what we all know about the boys by this point, should have struck an emotional chord for Charles especially... BUT IT DOESN'T which is like... very weird!!! It's normal for Edwin to act logically, to put facts over feelings, to "play hardball" as Charles puts it in episode 1. But Charles is emotional, he's compassionate, he's impulsive more times than not, so this is notably weird behavior for Charles!!
BUT THEN it gets even better because Charles is immediately like, "Edwin, you know what I'm saying, right?" He throws the ball to Edwin, expecting Edwin to agree with him - a reasonable expectation as, again, Edwin is the logical one - but then Edwin doesn't agree, he sides with the girls instead and takes on the case for, what we can only assume is an unknown/indiscernible reason to Charles. (Remember, Charles has no clue that Edwin already turned Monty down, and we know he thinks that Edwin has a little crush on Monty at this point as well!!) Charles doesn't push the issue, but it's clear he's not particularly happy... it's hard to nail down what exactly he's feeling (we can't read his mind) but he's clearly feeling some type of way. You can tell by his silence, by the tense, tight-jaw frown and his eyes wandering to the floor that he must have been expecting a different outcome. It felt like he asked Edwin in a way that felt more like he was testing something, like he was hoping for a certain outcome...but WHY???
Well, let's acknowledge the context in which this strange interaction happens. In the same episode we see Charles:
Note how weird/off everyone is behaving specifically after Edwin is awkward with Monty on the roof.
Checking Edwin out, up and down, after Niko tells him he looks good (This is an irrefutable conclusion as he openly comments on Edwin's change of clothes later, so like... he noticed lmao)
Acting colder than he previously has to Monty by the time they get to the tall forest, despite the possibility that Monty may have lost his friend who comforted him after his own near-death experience. (This happens after Edwin agrees to take on the case, btw. Even when Crystal points out that there's an issue between Monty and Edwin, Charles makes no move to inquire, to "fix" it, or to be especially gentle as he normally might.)
Boldly and instinctively reach for Edwin's hand while making pointed, emotional eye contact as a "last act" during their near "death" experience.
And that's not even everything!!! So like... yeah, sure, it could be nothing. It could mean nothing. Allll of this could just be coincidental. Maybe Charles was being logical and responsible for once, maybe he really did just feel like they were already too busy to take on an extra case.
OR, more likely in my personal opinion, HE WAS JEALOUS AS FUCK!!! We know, based on their interaction at the end of the episode, that Charles has always had at least some idea that Edwin is not straight. We know that everyone is convinced Edwin has a crush on Monty. We know that Charles, after meeting Monty for the first time, has an expression of disdain on his face while watching Monty and Edwin interact (when Monty is showing Edwin his astrology chart). We even know that, following this interaction, Charles is frazzled/irritated when he fails to get Edwin's attention away from Monty's astrology book (clearly upset that Edwin's attention is occupied elsewhere and suddenly eager to remind Edwin that the goal is to leave Port Townsend with haste). Monty aside, we're not even getting into the protective and emotional response Charles has at the mere mention of the damn Cat King...
SOOOO TLDR; I've watched this show every day, and the more I watch it the less I can be convinced that Charles is not jealous AF and stupidly, deeply in love with Edwin...even if he isn't aware of it yet. I have no idea why so many people think Charles has 0 romantic interest in Edwin and that he "turned Edwin down completely" on the stairs to hell... because that's simply just not what happened lmao. Seeing the word "queerbait" being attached to these two is giving me whiplash... like that's just not what's happening here. That's not the proper interpretation of the nature of their relationship. I don't think there is any possibility, not a chance in hell, that Charles will not reciprocate Edwin's romantic feelings because he quite literally already does and just doesn't know it yet. There's no other way to interpret the acting choices made (which are brilliant) and the writing choices (which are also brilliant).
Anyway, hopefully that made sense. I just needed to share because I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure going absolutely batshit over this show! 😇
#dead boy detectives#edwin payne#charles rowland#payneland#dbda#the dead boy detectives#I need this show renewed yesterday I am losing my shit lmao#crystal palace#niko sasaki#monty the crow#monty finch
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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)
♫ Summary: Eddie asked you on a date. Maybe. Possibly. But you definitely accepted. (5.6k words)
♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, mentions of sex, Reader wears a miniskirt, drinking, tipsiness, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)
♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult
chapter ten: this foolish lover's game
“I’m telling you: it’s a date.”
Nora flicked through the items on the clearance rack, searching for something in your size. She pulled out a floral shirt, wrinkled her nose, and promptly put it back.
“It’s 1993. A guy and a girl can hang out without it being something romantic,” you retorted, trying to ignore the fuzziness that filled your head at the potential classification of your upcoming night out with Eddie as a ‘date.’
“Very true. But that’s not the case here.” Nora sighed at the limited clothing choices and at your stubbornness. She stalked over to a rack of regularly-priced skirts, evidently on a mission. “And you know it, too, which is why you asked me to help you choose a new outfit.”
You had done that, though you definitely regretted it now. It had been so long since you’d actually gone out with friends that you really did need new clothes, but you had no idea where to start.
Enter Nora: best friend extraordinaire. She was just as great at finding clothes that flatter your figure as she was at being a study buddy. Her opinion mattered to you; it was necessary, especially considering the way you currently teemed with self-doubt.
She plucked a denim miniskirt from the lineup and held it against your waist. “Go try this on,” she said. You reached for the price tag, almost certain that it was out of budget, but she clamped her hand over yours. “My treat. Now, go.”
There was no arguing with her, not while she was shooing you into the dressing room. She clasped your shoulders as she steered you towards a curtain, yanked it open, and shoved you inside. “I’ll wait here,” she said.
You closed the curtain once again, unbuttoning your shorts and letting them fall to the thin carpet below you.
The skirt hung on its hanger, buttons all along the front, and it was impossible not to imagine Eddie being the one undoing them. His nimble fingers would dance across the seam as he positioned himself between your legs. You could practically feel his hands as they crept further upwards towards that dangerously sensitive part of you—
“Can we stop by the food court when you’re done? I’m dying for one of those cinnamon pretzels.”
The sound of Nora’s voice instantly cooled your heating skin. “Y-Yeah, sure,” you stammered.
Focus on that, you silently reprimanded yourself. Focus on Auntie Anne’s or Orange Julius or Panda Express—not Eddie tracing his tongue along your inner thighs.
You stepped into the skirt, warding off any lingering Eddie-related thoughts. Monday night would be like hanging out with Nora or Ben. There was no need to worry about your hair, or your clothes, or your makeup. Eddie was a friend, and only a friend, despite what absurdities your other friends planted in your head.
With the last button fastened, you allowed yourself to glance at your reflection in the mirror. The denim hugged your curves delicately, providing just a hint of what laid beneath without giving too much away. It looked odd paired with the old t-shirt you’d thrown on this morning, but the right top would make a world of difference.
Nora clapped her hands together the moment you opened the curtain. Her brown eyes lit up, and a soft squeal of excitement emanated from her throat.
“You’re gonna have Eddie eating out the palm of your hand,” she declared, reaching out to give you a little spin.
You gently pulled away from her as though it would offset the fluttering low in your stomach. “I told you, it’s—”
“Yeah, I know. Just two friends going to the bar, pretending they don’t wanna bone each other.” Nora rolled her eyes, already sick of the will they-won’t they song-and-dance.
You ducked back into the fitting room to change out of the skirt. “He doesn’t wanna bone me.”
“But you wanna bone him?”
It came out as a question, but you knew she meant as a statement.
“First of all, stop saying ‘bone.’” You hissed, tugging your shorts back over your legs. “Second, Eddie and I are friends, and he’s taking me out for graduation. End of story.”
Nora’s sigh was audible from the other side of the curtain. “Not ‘end of story.’ You didn’t answer my question. Do you wanna b—have sex with Eddie?”
Your hesitation was enough of an answer for her, and though you couldn’t see her face, you were certain she was grinning when she announced, “I knew it!”
“It’s not like that,” you protested. The fitting room was suddenly far too crowded and depleted of oxygen despite you being its only occupant. You threaded the teeth into your shorts zipper and grabbed the skirt, now heavy in your hand. “Yeah, he’s pretty cute, but—”
“But nothing. C’mon, just admit it: you like Eddie.” You could detect a hint of exasperation in her tone. Frustration, even, or confusion as to why you continually denied yourself life’s small pleasures.
You couldn’t answer that, either.
Protest died with the subtle twitch of your lips that gave away the truth. You hated your tells, the ones that swiftly uncovered the feelings you worked diligently to stifle. And you knew that if Nora kept pressing you about this crush, you would eventually break down and divulge it all.
Not just your burgeoning romantic feelings towards Eddie. Not the way you told bad jokes just to see his lopsided smile and the nose crinkle that often accompanied it. Not the multiple occasions when you caught yourself staring at the muscles in his arms and ached to kiss right along the hardened edge of his biceps.
Once you said those thoughts out loud, gave them the weight of spoken words, they became real. Able to hurt you when he inevitably didn’t reciprocate them.
And that terrified you.
“You have a big ol’ crush on him,” Nora continued, “and he has one on you.”
“He doesn’t have a crush on me,” you mumbled, purposely averting your gaze from hers.
Through peripheral vision, you could see her raise one brow. “Says who?”
Says the song lyrics about his ex-girlfriend. But that was too much to explain, so you slapped on a tight smile and shook the thought away. “Never mind. Let’s just pay for this.”
Nora swiped her credit card with an ease that only comes with the luxury of not having to worry about paying the water bill. She never had to dip into her own savings to keep the lights on. Buying her friend a miniskirt for a maybe-date wasn’t going to affect her grocery budget.
“I have the perfect pair of Docs to go with this. You can borrow them,” she said, pointedly adding “for your date.” She was either oblivious or didn’t care that the cashier was eavesdropping on your conversation.
“Not a date.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Nora plucked the bagged skirt from the cashier, flashed her a grateful smile, and shoved it in your direction. “Just answer one question for me—are you gonna wear lace panties underneath this, or cotton?”
When you once again failed to look at her, her grin widened.
“That’s what I thought.”
On Monday evening, you found yourself poised in front of the mirror, still fogged from your shower. The inky blue sky leaked into your room through the time-worn blinds, the sun almost fully faded into nighttime, which meant that Eddie would be knocking on your door at any moment.
The hem of your black fitted t-shirt met the waist of your skirt, the slightest gap between the two fabrics. It wasn’t scandalous by any stretch of the imagination, but it still conveyed one message: you wanted Eddie to look at you. Wanted him to notice your soft skin the way you noticed his flexing muscles, with awe and more lust than you cared to admit.
Did it all reek of desperation? What if Eddie was wearing the sweatpants he’d donned to remove the wallpaper? Just the possibility of him looking at your own outfit, at the effort you put into your appearance, and realizing you’d interpreted a friendly gesture as a date had you cringing.
No, this was a bad idea. You had to back out, now. Claim that you weren’t feeling well, maybe even take some ibuprofen in front of him, and promise a raincheck. You did feel the familiar throbbing that accompanied a tension headache, so it wasn’t a total lie—
Knock knock.
Sweat overrode the antiperspirant you’d lathered on, flooding you with a nervous heat. You frantically wiped your slick palms on the bed sheet like a cat at its scratching post and opened the door.
Eddie's eyes widened and his tongue brushed over his lower lip. There was no hiding the way his gaze dropped to your exposed thighs, drinking in every ounce of visible skin as though it was the only sustenance he’d ever need. His stare was hungry, if only for a moment, before his words broke the trance.
“You look…good. Pretty.” He swallowed thickly and forced himself to meet your eyes. “Sorry…just not used to seeing you all dressed up.”
Pretty. Eddie Munson thought you were pretty. The notion sent serotonin surging through you, a soft giggle passing through your lips. It was embarrassing, this schoolgirl crush, the way a simple word from him rendered you pathetically speechless.
A barrage of compliments perched themselves on your tongue, waiting to be untethered. He looked good, too; beyond that, he looked handsome. His cream colored shirt was baggy around his torso but clung to his biceps, drawing your attention to the vein that ran up his forearm.
You willed yourself to say something, anything, to reciprocate his kind words.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, mirroring your nervous energy as he gently rocked from the heel to the toe of his Reeboks. “We should get going,” he said.
Opportunity slipped from your grasp; anything you said now would seem like pity. Your only response was a nod as you locked the door and started towards the lobby.
Pretty. Pretty. Pretty.
Mom stood behind the desk, flipping through the check-in sheets with the cap end of a pen clenched between her teeth. She looked up, blinking in rapid succession when she saw you and Eddie approaching. You weren’t sure what surprised her more: you going out, or the man accompanying you.
“Well, don’t you two look nice!” She grinned, though the smile didn’t quite reach her tired eyes. “What’s the occasion?”
“Just getting a drink,” you said as casually as you could. “Celebrating my—the wallpaper.” It was a lame finish, one that Mom didn’t quite believe, but she lacked the energy to push further.
Guilt panged in your chest, not just at the lie, but because part of you felt like you were taking advantage of her exhaustion. You couldn’t tell her the real reason for the celebration; bile rose in your throat at the thought. Instead, you smiled and promised to be home before the start of your shift.
“I’ll make sure she behaves,” Eddie added with a mischievous edge, not sexual in nature but still had your stomach doing somersaults. “I know she can be quite the troublemaker.”
Mom laughed at this, so pure and genuine that you were half-tempted to ask Eddie if you could stay here and talk with her all night. Maybe he could break the news to her, since they seemed to get on well enough.
You felt her watch as Eddie opened the door for you and gave the tiniest bow to let you pass, though you didn’t dare look back at her. Not because she wouldn’t approve—just the opposite. Looking at your mother would confirm what you already knew deep down: she’d be beaming at the sight of you going on a date.
If that’s what this was.
Eddie shuffled to walk right by your side, sneakers scuffing against the broken pavement. A flicker of hope ignited within you that he would do something to confirm that this was, in fact, a romantic endeavor and not just two friends getting a drink. Perhaps an arm slung over your shoulder or a hand laced with yours.
There was only the gentle brush of his fingers against yours, knuckles grazing one another as they nearly slotted together. It was taunting, the way they could be a perfect fit if given the chance.
You almost went for it, almost grabbed hold of his hand yourself, but fear had you in its own grasp. Even if the benefit outweighed the risk, you couldn’t stop picturing him tugging his hand away from yours in a humiliating show of rejection.
“You okay? You’re not, like, mad at me again, are you?” Concern creased Eddie’s brows, and your heavy heart realized that the last time you were this quiet around him was after the argument.
“Not at all. Sorry.” You shot him a reassuring smile. “Just lost in my own thoughts.” You sent up a silent prayer that he wouldn’t ask you to elaborate on those thoughts.
Luckily, he just tilted his head towards you, his eyes taking on an even more doe-like quality than usual. “That’s the problem with you smart people: you’re always thinking too much.”
You laughed as you nudged him, your right shoulder colliding with his left. He stumbled slightly, quickly catching himself before he could fully lose his balance.
“Hey!” He yelped, rubbing his upper arm. The muscles beneath it flexed at his touch. “Don’t damage the merchandise.”
“I wouldn’t dare. I…” You shook your nerves loose and faced him, speaking before you fully lost yourself in his full, waiting lips. “I’d never damage merchandise as priceless as you.”
Eddie stopped in his tracks, the compliment seemingly rebooting his brain. Was it too forward? No, it couldn’t have been; he’d called you pretty just moments before. And it wasn’t as if you’d been forward enough to say he was sexy (though he was) or accidentally emasculated him by pointing out how adorable his soft dimples were (another fact).
His exhale was a disbelieving chuckle. “I, uh, don’t think anyone’s called me ‘priceless’ before. ‘Worthless,’ maybe, but…” He trailed off in an attempt to contain it as a lighthearted joke, but it was anchored by an undeniable truth.
If you could, you would wash away the ego-marring stains left behind by those who hurt him. Scrub and scrub until it was once again pristine as though they’d never been tarnished by self-doubt.
“Priceless.” You said it definitively, leaving no room for further argument.
Eddie ducked behind his hair, letting the curly locks dangle over his mouth to mask his flustered smile. You were willing to bet that a blush was spreading across the apples of his cheeks.
Curiosity loosened your inhibitions enough for you to reach out and tuck a few strands behind his ear. Sure enough, a delicate pink tinged his skin. You wanted to kiss it until your lips grew swollen from where his stubble scratched them raw.
Doing that would require something far more potent than inquisitiveness.
There was a decent crowd that night, not as packed as the weekend would have been, but there were enough people that only one empty stool remained in front of the bar. Eddie gestured to it, offering you the seat just as he had on the subway last week.
You tucked the denim fabric of your skirt behind your thighs as you sat. Eddie watched every movement, an unreadable desire darkening his expression, as if he wished it were his fingers on your skin.
Your smile seemed to snap him from his trance. He waved down the bartender, who held up her forefinger to signal she would be right over.
A shadow draped over you as you scanned the liquor-cluttered shelves, bathing you in a welcoming darkness. Protection. Eddie’s arms framed your torso, his hands planted firmly on the bartop. And when you lightly grasped his wrist, your thumb rubbing against the soft hairs on his arm, you could have sworn you felt the tension leave his body in one swift exhale.
“What are you gonna get?” The grainy pop music playing from the speakers and a cacophony of neighboring conversations muffled his voice, and he had to shout just to be heard.
“A vodka tonic.” Simple, classic, and most importantly—not expensive. Though you probably should let him be the judge of that, considering it was his treat. “If that’s okay?”
Eddie laughed softly and nodded. “It’s your night, Heiress.” The tip of his tongue swiped over his lower lip.
He ordered your drink first, then placed his order for whatever beer was on tap before declining to open a tab. Your chest went slightly concave; you should have followed his lead and ordered the cheaper option.
As if sensing your guilt, Eddie pulled back enough to look you in the eye. “It’s your night,” he repeated, grabbing your short, stout glass and placing it in your hand. He raised his own taller mug, proposing a toast. “To a badass future social worker and all of the lives she’s gonna change. For the better,” he added quickly.
Before he could clink his glass to yours, you locked eyes with him. The brown eyes that steeled themselves against you the night he first checked into the motel were now pillow-soft, beckoning you to fall. He may not have even been aware of it himself.
“To the coolest rockstar I know,” you said, allowing the lips of your glasses to touch. “And the second-coolest guest to ever stay at the motel.”
Eddie raised a brow. “Second?”
“You really think you’re cooler than Phyllis?”
“Touché.” He relented with a smirk, taking a swig of his drink that left a foamy mustache on his upper lip. Without a second thought, he licked it away.
The movement enraptured you: his tongue swiping over his skin, leaving no residue in its wake. That same tongue that peeked out from his mouth when he was focused, a simple muscle, but it held your attention for a beat too long.
“Are you…” Eddie gestured towards your vodka tonic, and you realized you hadn’t even taken a sip.
Cheers to embarrassing yourself ten minutes into the date. Non-date. Whatever it was.
The vodka’s bitterness and the bubbles from the tonic water seeped into your tongue. You savored the burn as you swallowed. It had been so long since you’d had a drink, and just the first taste had you buzzing. If you didn’t pace yourself properly, you’d be tipsy far too soon.
The sound system crackled and microphone feedback shot through the bar. You and Eddie winced in unison, each taking a gulp of your drinks.
A man in his mid-thirties, balding with a goatee, stood at a makeshift stage at the back of the bar. “Welcome to Music Mondays here at The Brink. That’s right…it’s karaoke night!”
There was a smattering of applause that didn’t match the emcee’s enthusiasm, but he remained undeterred.
“Sign up here with your name and your song, and we’ll get started in a few minutes. Drink that liquid courage and come on down!” The microphone screeched once more as he slid it back into the stand.
You turned to Eddie, your eyes wide with mischief. “You’re gonna do it, right?”
Eddie scoffed. “Fuck, no. I’m not getting up there and making a fool of myself.”
“But it’s my night,” you reminded him. “You said so yourself.”
He looked poised to argue, one hand gripped tightly around the mug’s handle, his mouth ready to say no. But then you batted your eyelashes and pouted, all in jest. A dramatic showing that you didn’t expect would convince him.
A wry smile betrayed his tough exterior as his thumb ghosted your lower lip. Lightning crackled at his touch, soft as it was, illuminating your bones and surging through your veins. When he pulled back, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, a light red stain tinged his skin. If he noticed it, he made no attempt to wipe it off.
“It is your night,” he mused, gaze flickering to your mouth before promptly returning to your eyes. When you lit up in anticipation of him conceding, he couldn’t help but grin back. “One song. And I’m choosing it.”
You couldn’t argue with him, not when his touch still lingered on your lip. He disappeared for a moment to add his name to the list. As soon as he was out of sight, you took a much larger gulp of your drink. A trickle escaped out of the corner of your mouth, and you haphazardly swiped at it with the back of your hand, lest it ruin the shirt you’d picked out especially for the date.
This isn’t a date. The reminder was as harsh as the vodka itself. You lifted the glass once more and drained it until the half-melted ice cubes clicked against your teeth. Whatever this evening was, you needed to relax. Enjoy Eddie’s company without reading too much into his every move.
You turned your attention to the TV mounted above the shelves, engrossing yourself in the scrolling closed captions. A weatherman announced that this summer was going to be a ‘scorcher,’ and though he said it with a plastic grin, you inwardly cringed at the impact the air conditioning would have on the electric bill.
“I’m up third.” Eddie’s voice broke in, turning the upcoming weather into a distant memory. He raised his brows when he saw your glass, now empty on the sticky bartop. “You finished that already?”
“Mhm.” Your smile was sloppier than you intended, your head starting to float from your neck as tipsiness crept in.
Eddie breathed out, shaking his head with a glimmer of a smirk. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or impressed, and you didn’t have time to ask before he waved over the bartender. “Just water, please.” He nodded his thanks when she slid it over. “Drink,” he said to you, and you dutifully obliged.
“What song did you pick out?” Something that is supposed to be screamed more than sung, you assumed.
He just shook his head again and swallowed more beer. “It’s a surprise.” His eyes twinkled when he said it, and you wondered if his choice erred more on the side of Madonna than Metallica.
A woman got up on stage and began her rousing rendition of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.
Peppy? Upbeat? A great way to kick off karaoke night? Absolutely.
On-key? Not even close.
“If you ever start a new band, you should ask her to join.” You chinpointed towards the woman currently butchering the Cyndi Lauper classic. “She’s got that star power, I think.”
Eddie snorted but composed himself quickly to play into your joke. “I’m worried she’d outshine me.” He widened his eyes in faux concern. “Go solo and leave me behind, y’know?”
“She’ll probably steal all of your groupies, too,” you added, tutting as if to say, what a shame.
“Even you?”
You cocked your brow. “Who said I’m your groupie?”
He leaned his elbow against the bar, mouth slackjaw at your rejection. Disbelieving laughter left his throat in a huff.
“I take you out, treat you to the best watered-down drink this city has to offer, and this is the thanks I get?” His curls brushed against his cheeks when he shook his head. “Who would you be a groupie for? Wait, no; lemme guess.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “New Kids on the Block? Boyz II Men?”
“I think I’d die if Joey McIntyre so much as looked at me.” You hadn’t meant to say that aloud. The watered-down or not, the alcohol was certainly turning sober thoughts into tipsy words.
Eddie chugged half of the beer, watching as the woman on stage finished her song and left with a triumphant bow. “Pretty sure your shitty taste in music is what plays at the gates of Hell,” he said to you.
Your response was a mere flick of your middle finger.
A man in a suit took the stage next, loosening his tie as he positioned himself behind the microphone. A group of similarly-dressed men started hooting and hollering obnoxiously the moment the opening chords to Don’t Stop Believin’ blared through the sound system.
You looked back to Eddie. If he was nervous about singing karaoke, he didn’t show it. His shoulders were relaxed, his posture much less tense than on the walk to the bar. Maybe the alcohol loosened him up as it had you.
“What about you?” You asked. “Whose groupie would you be?”
“Easy,” he said, not missing a beat. “Joan Jett. Total badass, killer musician, and hot as hell.” He nodded to confirm his choice before leaning in and loudly whispering. “Bad Reputation was basically my secret anthem in high school.”
You laughed. “Did you imagine it playing in the background when you walked down the halls?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Eddie grinned and polished off his beer.
His confession warmed you—or maybe that was just the vodka working its way through your bloodstream. Regardless, you were intrigued by the glimpse into his past and found yourself hungry for more.
“Can I ask you a non-groupie related question?”
“Shoot.”
Your tongue was heavy, the resulting slurring softening your words. “If your hometown is so shitty, why are you trying to go back?”
He loosened a chuckle, glancing at the shelves of booze before looking back to you. “My uncle still lives there. He, ah, he raised me after my dad split and my mom…y’know.” Eddie cleared his throat and managed a small smile. “Why? You want me to stick around?”
The hair on his forearm tickled when he slid it over to nudge you, his pinky finger overlapping yours.
Of course you wanted him to stick around. You’d smear honey all over the motel’s siding to lure more bees, tempt them to build their nests among the sticky sweetness, just so he would have a reason to stay.
The man on stage belted out his final “don’t stop believin’” as his buddies enveloped him in drunken hugs.
“All right!” The emcee bleated into the microphone. “Next up, we have…” He checked the sign-up sheet. “…Eddie! Let’s give him a hand, folks.”
A smattering of applause echoed throughout the room, the excitement of karaoke night already dwindling. If Eddie noticed, he didn’t show it.
“This one’s for you, Heiress.” He winked and sprinted towards the stage.
Eddie pressed his foot on the microphone stand, adjusting it so it was level with his lips. His fingers curled around its neck, dramatically tugging it closer as the instrumentals piped through the sound system.
Well, since my baby left me
Well, I found a new place to dwell
Well, it's down at the end of Lonely Street
At Heartbreak Hotel
His hips swung back and forth, the gyrations not quite as precise as Elvis’s, but he still snapped them in time with the staccato guitar chords. The right heel of his sneakers tapped the floor as he continued, voice dipping into his lower register.
Where I'll be, I'll be so lonely, baby
Well, I'm so lonely
I'll be so lonely, I could die
Free hand pressed to his heart, Eddie leaned in your direction and tilted the mic stand while he sang. The movements were reminiscent of how a man would dance with someone he loved, impassioned yet graceful. Charisma oozed from every pore, his natural command of the stage an enduring reminder of his brief foray into rock stardom.
The other patrons faded into the background as his eyes fixed on you, a personal serenade rather than karaoke night amongst a sea of drunks. Easiness weaved through each note he sang, his body loosening and his lips curving into a smile when you let out a vodka-fueled whoop of admiration.
Now, the bellhop's tears keep flowin'
And the desk clerk's dressed in black
Well, they've been so long on Lonely Street
Well, they'll never, they'll never look back
Eddie pointed to you when he referenced the desk clerk, the crowd following his every move. The heat of their stares only exacerbated the warmth that the alcohol already sent coursing through you, but you felt no need to hide. The rich timbre of his voice was a magnetic pull, drawing you in until it echoed deep in your bones.
Although it's always crowded
But you still can find some room
For broken hearted lovers
To cry there in their gloom
Where they get so, they get so lonely, baby
Well, they're so lonely
They'll be so lonely, they could die
He ended the song with one final swing of his hips, one foot turned inward in an Elvis-esque pose. If anyone else applauded for him, it couldn’t be heard over the sound of your cheers.
He made a beeline for you. “Did that live up to your expectations?” Sweat dripped from his flushed forehead and down his temples.
“Exceeded them, actually.”
The bartender slid over two shot glasses filled with amber liquid. “On the house,” she explained when you and Eddie looked at her in confusion.
You shouldn’t. The TV set that broadcasted the news showed that it was nearly nine o’clock and you were already tipsy from the one drink. Adding a shot—and subsequently mixing liquor—was a recipe for disaster.
“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t wanna,” Eddie said. “I’ll take them both.”
With a shake of your head, you took the glass nearest you and downed it, the whiskey burning stronger than you had anticipated. Tears reflexively welled in your eyes, leaving you clinging to the hope that you had blinked them away before Eddie could notice.
He let out a soft, low whistle. “Well, okay then.” His own shot disappeared past his grimacing lips.
A familiar synthesized beat replaced the idle hum of conversation as a middle-aged woman began her song. Eddie threw back his head when he heard it, groaning as though the ‘80s hit left him in agony.
“You’re such a music snob,” you lamented, reaching out with both of your hands to grab onto his. If this is what liquid courage felt like, you were more than happy to ride that wave. “There’s more to life than heavy metal.”
“I just sang Elvis!” He protested, but his efforts were all in vain as you hopped off of the barstool and led him away from your empty shot glasses. “Heiress…” His tone was a warning, one that you promptly ignored.
You let your gaze meet his, the vodka-and-whiskey combination working overtime to stifle your nerves.
“Dance with me.”
Eddie laughed. “You’re tipsy.”
“I’m tipsy and I want you to dance with me.”
“You wanna dance, huh?” He laughed again when you nodded. “All right; let’s dance.”
Eddie’s hands slid down to your wrists and adjusted your arms so they draped over his shoulders, his curls tickling your fingers when they clasped behind his neck. He hesitated for a second before letting his own fingertips rest on your waist, careful to avoid dipping below the small of your back.
Watching, I keep waiting, still anticipating love
Never hesitating to become the fated ones
The current performer was marginally better than the first two, but her voice wasn’t nearly as polished as Eddie’s. She kept getting too close to the mic, the lyrics muffled each time her purple-lipsticked mouth grazed the cover.
You inched forward, your chest against Eddie’s as the two of you swayed in tandem. His fingers flexed before tugging you closer, evidence that you weren’t the only one affected by the shot.
“Can’t remember the last time I heard this song,” he mused wistfully. “Probably my senior prom. The last one, anyway.”
“You had more than one senior prom?”
His cheeks, already pinkened from the liquor, flushed a deeper shade of red. “Yeah, it, uh, took me a few tries to graduate,” Eddie admitted. “But I did it.” A sheepish smile still held a twinge of pride.
“You did it.”
“Yeah.” One arm reached back to grasp your hand and twirl you around, and you breathed an audible sigh of relief when the room didn’t spin with you. “But tonight,” he grinned, “is all about you.”
You. Not the motel or its crumbling financial infrastructure. Not the guests or your parents. Not school or exams or term papers. Just you.
An involuntary giggle wriggled its way up and you ducked your head to hide it, your forehead brushing against Eddie’s lips. Did he purse them slightly in a hint of a kiss, or was that a figment of your imagination?
Turning and returning to some secret place inside
Watching in slow motion as you turn my way and say
Take my breath away
“You okay?” Eddie asked, a smile in his voice.
“Mhm. Just happy.”
“Yeah? Good.” His forefinger tucked under your chin and tilted it upwards, granting him a better look at you. The tip of his tongue parted his lips and swiped over the whiskey-scented residue. “You deserve to be happy.”
You did deserve to be happy. You deserved joyful moments in your life, people who surrounded you in sunshine even when rain poured.
My love, take my breath away
My love, take my breath away
You deserved Eddie.
Standing before you, his eyes never strayed from your form, flicking from your face to where his hands gripped your waist. His chest rose and fell in time with the music.
“I…” You swallowed your fear, already tempered by tipsiness, curling your fingers into the back of his ribbed t-shirt collar.
Desire rippled down your spine and you leaned in to close that godforsaken gap, already tasting him on your tongue.
But not before he pulled away.
--
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cry baby | chapter twelve
Summary: It's not who the hell is Bucky, it's where the hell is Bucky?
Warning: Lack of Bucky. Mean Bucky is back (question mark?)
Word Count: 1654
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A/N: Oh... Buck. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10
Your phone buzzed, an indication that you received a text, and you eagerly snatched it up. Only to find it was the regular pizza deal text from the local pizzeria you ordered from, one time. Sighing, you tossed your phone back onto the couch and wrapped your cardigan tighter around yourself.
A few days had passed since that night Bucky left your apartment. In that time, he hadn’t returned any of your calls or texts, and he hadn’t been showing up at the bar. You had expressed your growing concern to the rest of the group, however they seemed unbothered. “He’s just being Bucky,” they all waved off with a casual shrug.
As the day continued to pass without a word from him, your worry began to deepen. Each time your phone buzzed, your hope would flare, only to vanish when it wasn’t him.
The first place you checked when you hadn’t heard back from him was his apartment. You had gone there during a time when you knew he wouldn’t be at work. Knocking on his door and calling his name, you waited around a few moments longer than you normally would, but there had been no answer. You had even asked his neighbors, but they explained that they rarely see him.
You found yourself pacing the apartment, the thought of him possibly hurt or in trouble gnawed at you. Your mind raced. You couldn’t take it anymore.
Grabbing your phone and keys, you decided to check the local hospital. It felt drastic, but the uncertainty was eating away at you. The cool air did little to calm your nerves as you walked toward the hospital.
At the hospital’s reception desk, you explained your situation to the receptionist, trying to not rush your words and steady your breathing. “Hi, I was just wondering if my friend has been admitted here. He hasn’t been in touch for a few days, and I’m really worried. His name is James Barnes… but he might be under Bucky.”
The receptionist took a moment to check her records, giving you a sympathetic look as she turned back to you. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have anyone by that name admitted.”
Your heart sank, but you thanked the lady and headed toward the bar. As you walked, the city lights began to turn on as you debated your next move. Checking with Fury felt like the next logical step, but you worried it may be too extreme.
Reaching the bar with heavy steps, your mind swirled with anxiety and unanswered questions. You saw that Natasha was already sitting at the booth. Concern was etched on her face as she looked up at you sliding into the booth. “Hey, everything okay? You don’t look so good.”
You shook your head, fidgeting with the ends of your cardigan shelves. “I still haven’t heard from Bucky… I checked his apartment, the hospitals… nothing.”
She reached out, a comforting hand resting on top of your trembling ones. “I know you’re worried, but remember,” she paused, taking a sigh. “This isn’t the first time he’s disappeared like this. He’s always had the habit of going off the grid for a week or two and then, one day we walk in here and he’s just back.”
You nodded, a mixed feeling of frustration and relief rushed through you at her words. “I know, but it just feels different, Nat. Something doesn’t feel right.”
Natasha gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a sympathetic look covering her face. “I get it, but he’s a tough guy, he knows what he’s doing,”
You couldn’t shake the worry entirely, but her words gave you a small sense of hope. As the rest of the evening passed by, you found yourself staring at the empty seat across from you.
~
Over the rest of the weeks, you tried everything you could think of to try and get a reply from him. You continued to send him calls and texts, each one sounding more desperate as the days passed. You even resorted to sending him Snapchats of your kitten, hoping that a glimpse of the kitten you named, Alpine, together would prompt him to reach out.
However, no matter how hard you tried, all you could see was that everything had only been delivered. He remained silent, and you were left unread.
You checked your phone obsessively, hoping for some sign of him.
The week rolled into the next, and you found yourself trying to distract yourself with work and drawing. No matter how hard to tried to focus on something else, your thoughts kept drifting back to Bucky. You found yourself returning to his apartment time and time again, hoping you would catch him. But each time, the door remained closed.
~
After a night with the rest of your friends, the bar began to empty out. You had remained lost in your thoughts for most of the night, your gaze still fixed on the empty seat in front of you.
Suddenly, the door to the bar swung open. Your heart began to race as the hope built up inside you. Stretching your neck out to turn toward the door, you locked gazes with Tony.
Tony had been a friend of your group for years, he was the best mechanic in the city and did everything to help out with the bikes. He walked in, carrying a bulky-looking package. His eyes remained locked on yours, a bright smile spread across his face as he made his way over to the booth.
“Evening ladies,” Tony greeted, the term ladies used to greet all five of you sat at the booth. “I’ve been meaning to give this to Barnes, but since he hasn’t shown up or answered his goddamn phone… I figured I’d better bring it to you.”
You watched as Tony placed the cardboard box on the table in front of you. “What’s this?” you asked, curiosity filling your voice.
Tony shot you a mischievous grin as he began opening the box, revealing a pastel pink motorcycle helmet adorned with intricate designs. “Barnes ordered this from the shop a couple of weeks ago…” he trailed on before handing it to you. “Like I said, he hasn’t come to collect it yet or answered any of my calls. But, I can only assume it’s for you.”
Your eyes welled, the surprise of the gesture taking over your emotions. You reached out to look over the helmet, feeling the smooth surface beneath your fingertips. It was adorable, matching the color of your new cardigan perfectly, and the fact that Bucky had gone out of his way to order it for you filled your heart.
“Thank you, Tony…” you sniffled, the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. “I have no idea he was planning something like this.”
Tony chuckled, his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, I’m glad I could get it to you, Cry Baby.”
You couldn’t help but smile at Tony. He didn’t stay around much longer, with a nod and a wave, he bif you all farewell before leaving.
Holding the helmet in your hands, you couldn’t help but think of Bucky. Why would he plan this gesture but then disappear, you thought?
~
You felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation as you stood outside of Bucky’s apartment door, clutching the pink helmet. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you reached out to knock on his door.
The sound of your knocking echoed in the hallway, you held your breath as you waited anxiously for a response.
A surge of relief rushed through you as the door cracked open. However, it was short-lived as you looked up to see Bucky standing there, shirtless and caught off guard. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, and his skin shined from sweat. His eyes widened in surprise as he registered your presence.
“Hi…” you greeted him, offering a small smile in the awkwardness of the situation. “I, uh, Tony… Tony came by the bar tonight,” you tried to keep your voice steady while gesturing toward the helmet in your hands. “I just wanted to thank you for the helmet,”
His expression was guarded as his gaze went back and forth between you and the interior of his apartment. He stepped back slightly, closing the door with him, blocking your view into the apartment. “Oh, uh, yeah. No problem,” he mumbled, his tone terse and distant, if you hadn’t been hanging on his every word, you may have missed him adding your name at the end.
He hadn’t used your name since you were four years old. Twenty years, he has only called you ‘Sweetheart,’ until now. It was a small detail, you should have easily overlooked but it felt significant somehow.
That was when you heard movement coming from the apartment, and the pieces fell into place. You tried to mask your embarrassment as you realized that you had most likely interrupted something more intimate.
“I really appreciate it,” you said, trying to maintain your composure. “It, um, it was so thoughtful of you.”
His eyes darted between you and the helmet, and you could see the tension in his posture as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Yeah, well, it’s no big deal,” he muttered, his voice strained.
You bit back the urge to apologize but instead, you focused on getting away as quickly as you could. “I’ll, uh, let you get back to… whatever you were doing,” you said, your voice tinged with embarrassment.
Bucky nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah… thanks,” he mumbled, his gaze avoided yours.
With a final awkward smile, you turned to leave. As the door closed behind you, you made your way back down the hallway. Before rounding the corner, you stopped in your tracks turning back to look at his door.
With a heavy sigh, you tore your gaze away and continued on your way.
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