#I wasn’t expecting a major time jump
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MONSTER (m.)
neighbor!simon riley x reader
tags: zombie apocalypse au, neighbors to lovers, afab!reader, no pronouns, hurt/comfort, smut, NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH
cw: description of corpses, simon is aggressive towards you, but also very soft!simon, protective!simon, violence, simon does murder someone, lots of kissing, wet&messy sex, multiple orgasms, edging (simon), missionary position, mating press, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, breast play, squirting, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, eye contact, praise, teeny bit talkin u thru it
note: i think that's all the neccessary warnings but if u think smthn else should be added, let me know. please enjoy this MONSTER fic!!!
; you find yourself hiding out in your apartment as the undead begin walking. luckily, you have a well-trained military operative as a neighbor who is more than willing to keep you safe.
16.5k
“Residents are advised to remain in their homes. Authorities are unsure what is causing the severe aggression in people but the military has been called in nationwide. Please stay tuned as more information becomes available.”
That was the first news broadcast. They reported people getting sick-- airborne is what they had said. Stay inside, and stay away from other people.
So you did just that – stayed hidden away in your apartment, glued to your television for every possible news cast that you could get.
It was only a week later that the whole story had come out.
The airborne strain is what caused the first swell of infections. Anyone who was susceptible to the infection would have already become sick by now. But those who were infected by the airborne strain turned…feral. They became like wild animals, barely human. Their skin rotted around them while they were still alive. Their brains died but their hearts remained pumping. They were walking corpses that had a vicious hunger for human flesh.
The bites are what caused the following wave of infections. Something in their saliva turned you into whatever they were.
You were scared. When you looked outside your window, down just a few floors to the ground, you could see hordes of people stumbling around, shuffling and shambling.
Sometimes you would hide in your bathroom as the sounds of gunfire filled the city. It was the worst when it was the middle of the night.
You weren’t equipped to deal with a disaster of this level – humans turning into disease spreading killers. You were having to ration your food, waiting for the day that there would be an announcement that it was safe.
You wanted it all to be over.
Then the news broadcasts stopped, cell service dropped, and the populace was left in the dark.
You kept the lights off in your apartment, scared that the wandering hordes outside would see it and find you.
You had no idea how long you had been hiding in your apartment, spending most nights with your knees to your chest as you watched the static on the TV. You held out hope that the news broadcast would come back, but it never did. You spent the days and nights in mundane monotony, hopelessness settling in.
The only interruption was a heavy knock on your front door, practically making you jump out of your skin at the sound of it. You hadn’t expected anyone to actually approach your apartment in search of you. It terrified you that anyone could be out there at a time like this.
With wide eyes and trembling hands, you grabbed a kitchen knife off of your counter and tiptoed towards the front door. Peeking through the peep-hole, you let out a heavy sigh of relief.
Throwing the door open, you were faced with the familiar balaclava of your neighbor across the hall.
“Simon…” you whispered in relief.
He wasn’t lunging nor did he have the milky-white eyes of the undead that you had seen on the news. He was normal.
“What’re you planning to do with that?” he asked, eyeing the kitchen knife still in your hand.
“Oh!” you gasped, quickly placing it on the table by your front door, “Sorry, you– you– startled me when you knocked. Would you like to come in?”
His lidded, brown eyes gaze around your apartment behind you before landing on you again, “You have anyone else in there?”
You blink and slowly shake your head, “No, I’m alone.”
His brows furrow at that, “You’ve been by yourself this whole time?”
You shrug and nod, “What else was I supposed to do? The news reports said to stay inside…”
He hums, “Are you sick?”
“No, I’m fine,” you respond quickly, “Why?”
Suddenly there’s a hand on your forehead and you realize he’s checking your temperature. You remain still and allow him to do it before he's shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets.
“Fever’s the first symptom,” he explains, “I’m goin’ door to door to check on everyone.”
“Oh!” you gasp, smiling, “That’s very nice of you, Simon.”
You knew that Simon was in the military. He was often out on long deployments and sometimes he had tasked you with keeping an eye on his apartment since you were right across the hall from him.
He was a nice enough guy, if not a little cold and blunt. He was tall and broad, clearly well built despite the fact that he usually wore a hoodie that hid his biceps from view. You’d gotten glimpses of his tattoos when you had knocked on his door one evening and asked him if he knew anything about water heaters because your hot water had been out for nearly a month in the dead of winter and the apartment manager hadn’t done anything to help you.
Simon had kindly come to your apartment, even though it was nearing midnight, rolled his sleeves up and fixed your problem within the hour. You had baked him cookies as a thank you that following weekend.
“How is everyone doing..?” you venture to ask, leaning against the doorjamb as a breeze flows into your apartment from the open door.
He casts a glance down the hallway, almost like he’s thinking before sighing, “Few people are sick. They’ve been…” he hesitates for a moment, “Quarantined.”
“Probably for the best,” you respond, “Keep them from hurting anyone when they…turn.”
It feels so surreal to be talking about confining people to keep them from literally eating the healthy people. But it seems that’s where you’re all at now.
“I’m going to barricade our floor,” he says suddenly, “Keep anyone from comin’ in that’s not supposed to come in.”
“What if we need to leave?” you ask, concerned, “We’re only going to have finite food and resources between us. The power’s also going to go out sooner rather than later, Simon.”
“I know,” he sighs, “But we should stay indoors for as long as possible. When the power runs out and we run out of supplies, we can figure out what to do next,” he explains, “The military was on the ground here last I heard, you’ve heard the gunshots. I don’t believe they’ll last much longer but it’s not wise for us to go out while they’re tryin’ to eliminate as many of these…undead as they can.”
“I guess that makes sense…” you whisper before his words finally settle on you, “What do you mean you don’t think they’ll last much longer..?”
He levels a hard stare at you that makes your heart race in anxiety. Simon was always a serious individual by nature but this is how you imagine he looks when he’s on duty, “Hundreds of thousands of people are sick out there. The airborne strain no doubt got to hundreds of the soldiers meant to be protecting the civilians. Eventually, they’ll eat each other from the inside out –literally.”
“You mean even the military is going to collapse..?” you ask, horrified. You try not to let the tears fill your eyes but Simon’s words fill you with a dreadful sense of hopelessness.
“Communications are cut,” he says finally, “Radio’s been silent all day. Not sure what’s goin’ on but it’s not good.”
The tears quickly began to fall down your cheeks. Before you could wipe them away, a calloused thumb was doing it. You sniffled and looked up at him.
“I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you confessed softly, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive, Simon.”
“Don’t you worry about that, love,” he whispered, grabbing your chin gently to make you look up at him, “I’ll take care of you, yeah?”
“I don’t want to be a burden…” you explain, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I took care of you,” he joked, though it held little humor, “You won’t be a burden. I’ll teach you what you need to know, alright?”
“You will?” he nods when you look up at him hopefully and you smile, “Thank you, Simon. I don’t really want to die by getting eaten by walking corpses.”
He chuckled under his mask, brown eyes crinkling around the edges a bit, “It is pretty fuckin’ mad, isn’t it?” You laugh, the first genuine smile you’ve cracked since before that first news broadcast, “Why don’t you come across the hall and stay with me, yeah?”
“Is that okay..?” You can’t deny the idea of being with company sounded more appealing than anything. You were definitely beginning to feel the ebbs of loneliness creeping in on you as the days of silence passed. Plus, Simon was…safe, “The news said not to…mingle in case of the disease spreading.”
He scoffed, “Rules like that don’t really apply anymore, love,” he mutters softly, “Plus, neither of us is sick so it’s not like we’ll spread it anyway. I can teach you some knife work and how to use a gun easier if we’re together, yeah?”
“Okay,” you smile, excitement surging in your chest, replacing the painful void of hopelessness you had, “Let me just get some things together and I’ll be right over, okay?”
“Sounds good, love,” you can tell he’s smiling under the mask. He gives you a pat on the shoulder before stepping away, “Just knock when you’re ready.”
You stand in your doorway until he disappears into his apartment. Once you’re alone, you cast a cursory glance around your living room, eyeballing everything you need to take before you dash into your bedroom. From the back of your closet, you grab a duffle bag that you have stowed away in the back of your closet from when you first moved in.
Navigating in the dark of your apartment was a bit of a challenge but you managed to stuff all the essentials into the bag. After slinging it over your shoulder, you step out of your apartment, making sure it was locked before knocking on Simon’s door.
He opened it quickly, still wearing the same hoodie, jeans, and balaclava as before – his hood still up as well. He stepped aside for you to enter.
Unlike you, his apartment was illuminated by lamps – but his windows were covered with blackout curtains so no light would seep outside. It was pretty plainly decorated, just the essentials and a few photographs on the walls; upon closer inspection it looked like him and, you assumed, his comrades.
You went to place your bag down but he stopped you, “I cleared out a drawer for you to put your clothes in for the time bein’.”
“Oh…” you gaped at him, surprised to hear that he had done something like that for you, “Thank you, Simon.”
He led you to his bedroom, standing in the hallway while you walked in. His bedroom was darkly decorated, black out curtains on the windows, navy blue sheets and a black comforter on his bed. His furniture was all dark toned as well.
It suited him, you thought.
There were two drawers open and empty, letting you know that those were yours for the taking. You knelt down and opened your duffle bag, carefully folding and placing your items inside. When you got to your undergarments, you cast a glance towards the door to find that he was no longer standing there. Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly filled the top drawer with all of your delicates before closing the drawers and standing up.
Flicking on the light to his en suite bathroom, you placed your toothbrush and toothpaste alongside his, the sight making you blush before you went to add your belongings into the shower as well.
Realistically, you knew that the water was going to go out sooner or later but you planned to enjoy it for as long as you possibly could until then.
When you ventured into the living room, Simon was in the kitchen, the cabinets open as he scanned over all of his belongings.
“Is something wrong..?” you asked softly.
“Thinkin’ of how to ration,” he replied quickly, “Have you got any stuff over at yours still?”
You nod your head, “It’s not much but I have some canned food and like...rice and stuff if you want that.”
“Yeah, it’ll be good to consolidate all our supplies in the long run,” he explained, “You got your keys?”
“Yes!” you pull your keyring from your pocket and drop it into his open palm.
“I’ll be right back love, make yourself at home,” he gave you a gentle nudge towards the couch before leaving you there.
You took a seat on the couch, realizing just how tired you were. You hadn’t realized how tense you’re been for so long on your own. Now that you were safe and with company, you could almost feel the tension sliding right off of you. You rested your head against the back of the couch and closed your eyes, intending to just rest your eyes and enjoy the peace you felt.
You were startled awake by the sound of the door slamming shut. You nearly jumped out of your skin, wide eyes finding Simon’s who looked a little sheepish.
“Sorry, love,” he whispered, “Didn’t realize you’d be sleepin’.”
“Didn’t mean to…” you confess, standing up and stretching, watching Simon lug a bag of food into the kitchen.
“Haven’t been sleepin’ well?” he asked, his back to you as he began to stock up the cabinets.
“Not really…” with a sigh, you lean back against the counter with your arms crossed over your chest, “I’ve been stressed about this whole situation.”
“It is…” he pauses in his words, placing a bag of dried beans into the cabinet, “Nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
“Society is really collapsing around us, isn’t it?” you bravely ask, although you were scared to hear the answer.
“Yeah, darlin’,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it and that brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.
“This is so fucked up,” you cry, burying your face in your hands, “Thank you, Simon. You didn’t have to offer to help me and I really owe you a lot.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he closes the cabinet, the bag he brought finally empty before turning to you, “I’ll make sure you know everything you need to know to survive.”
“I doubt I’ll be as good as you,” you joke, a crooked, wobbly smile on your face.
He steps forward and cups your chin, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “No one’s as good as me, sweetheart.”
You chuckle softly at his words.
This is what you needed – someone by your side to keep you sane as society collapsed and everyone that you knew died.
That night, you slept better than you had in days. Simon had given you his bed, offering to take the couch. You had argued, telling him that you couldn’t take his bed like that.
“I’m up most nights anyway, love,” he had assured you, “At least someone around here can get a good night’s sleep in that bed.”
When you woke up, fully rested you might add, Simon was already awake, drinking some tea. You sat down beside him, enjoying a nice quiet morning.
“How do you feel about learnin’ some basics today, love?” he asked when he was cleaning his mug.
“Sure!” you agreed, “I have to warn you though, I really know next to nothing…”
“That’s alright,” he chuckled, waving to you to follow him to the living room, “I’m a good teacher, I promise.”
“I don’t doubt that,” you watched as he stood up and went to a closet in the hallway, pulling out an assortment of bags and carriers.
He placed them down beside the couch and took a seat next to you.
“I think it’s best if we start with you gettin’ comfortable with the feeling of holding a weapon in your hands,” he explained, pulling out a knife bigger than any you’ve seen, “This is a hunting knife.”
He handed it towards you, his fingers confidently gripping the blade between two fingers. You wrapped your hand around the handle, testing its weight in your hands. It was dangerous and nerve-wracking, holding a weapon in your hands.
“I know it’s scary,” he assured, “But when you’re comfortable holding knives then you can learn to use them properly to protect yourself.”
“What about guns..?” you find yourself asking, still gripping the knife in your hands, turning it over and adjusting your grip just to desensitize yourself to it.
“We’ll tackle guns when you get used to knives,” he replied.
“So you have guns?” you ask, letting him pull the hunting knife from your hands.
“Of course I do,” he reaches into a bag by his feet, pulling out a pistol.
Your eyes go wide as you watch him handle it effortlessly, checking the chamber and moving it around in his hands like it wasn’t a dangerous weapon.
“When you’re ready, I’ll teach you to properly use one so you can use it in case of an emergency,” he explained, placing the pistol on the table carefully.
“I’m going to have to kill other people…” you mutter to yourself.
Simon pulled out another knife, passing it into your hands, “Combat knife,” he supplied simply, “And you’ll have to kill them but…I don’t think they’re people anymore, love.”
“I guess that’s true…” you mutter, holding the knife with a firm grip, “I’ve only seen them on the news before it stopped broadcasting. What about you?”
“Haven’t seen ‘em in person either,” he replies with a shrug, “Some of my…teammates,” the words seem awkward coming from his mouth but he continued, “Were givin’ me some information before they went radio silent.”
“What happened to them?” you couldn’t help but ask.
A brief flash of sadness flashed over his eyes but he quickly sobered up, leaning back against the couch with a sigh, “Not a clue. I guess there’s no way for me to know. I just know it was getting bad. Dangerous.”
“I’m sorry about your teammates,” was all you could find in supply of an answer.
Simon didn’t respond, simply letting his gaze fall back on the knife, “Let me show you some handling techniques for you to practice.”
Realizing that he didn’t want to talk about the world outside anymore, you let him lead you through a crash course on knife handling and knife safety. He took the time to teach you the different kinds of knives in his possession and you nodded along as best you could but if you’re being honest – it was primarily lost on you.
You’re not sure if Simon knew that but he seemed to enjoy teaching you, so you let him ramble on to his heart’s content.
By the end of the day, you were confident enough in at least not accidentally cutting yourself on the sharp blades.
In order to repay him, you made dinner for the both of you – though, really, it was just some heated up canned soup-- and did the dishes for him so he didn’t have to.
By the end of the night, you both found yourselves on the couch, watching a movie he had put on. With there being no way to watch anything else, you were grateful he had a collection of movies to his name – you simply streamed your favorite shows and movies and called it a day.
It ticked late into the night and before you knew it, you were falling asleep on the couch, leaned against his shoulder. You could feel him shift and knew you should open your eyes, but the tugs of sleep at the edges of your subconscious kept you from doing so. Suddenly, you felt the soft beat of his heart against your ear and the heavy weight of his arm laid across you. You briefly registered that you were now wrapped in his arms before the final tug of sleep pulled you under.
When you woke up, you were in bed.
And Simon wasn’t in the apartment.
“Simon..?” you called, looking around everywhere for him – to no avail.
You ventured to the door, carefully pulling it open and stepping out. You looked down the hall towards the stairwell before you heard a grunt of effort from the other end.
“Simon!” you called, making him look up.
“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, pausing in his task of pushing a large bookcase towards the elevator.
“You weren’t inside…” you mutter, wandering down the hall towards him, “What’re you doing?”
“Barricading this elevator,” he replied, giving the heavy object another push with a grunt of effort.
“Oh, right, you mentioned you wanted to do that,” you mumbled, taking a moment to look over him.
He wasn’t wearing his hoodie for once, instead wearing a tight black t-shirt that was sticking to his skin with sweat. He wore his jeans with a holster and gun on his hip as well.
“Do you need any help?” you asked but he shook his head.
“No, you can’t help with this, love,” he grunted, giving the bookcase one final, heavy push before it was flush against the elevator doors.
It was then that you noticed the straps nailed to the wall. He took them and secured them to the other side of the elevators, making sure the bookcase was fastened firmly.
“Enough people push this and it’ll come down but at least it’s secure enough,” he explained, giving his work a final once over.
“Do you know where the others are?” you find yourself asking as he makes his way to the other end of the hallway
He pauses at that, seemingly thinking of his next words carefully, “I checked door to door. Most of our neighbors got the hell out to go see their families when everything went to shit. A few…were sick and turned in their apartments so I had to…put them down.”
You cringed at his wording, you knew he was trying to phrase it delicately for you but you weren’t sure if you would have preferred him to just say he killed them. ‘Put them down’ made it sound like they were rabid dogs and not people you once knew and smiled at in the halls.
“Found some notes in some of them,” Simon said suddenly, waving you to follow him back to the apartment – to safety, “Guess we can only hope they made it to their families in one piece.”
“I hope so,” you muttered optimistically, slipping past him when he opened the front door for you.
You quickly realize how difficult it is to tell how much time is passing with Simon’s blackout curtains, which he refused to allow you to open for fear of attracting any unwanted attention. With there being no more news broadcasts or anything on TV, you didn’t even know the date anymore and you were too scared to ask for fear of knowing how long you’ve been living like this. Your food rations were slowly dwindling but neither of you talked about it.
You know you’re still waking up in the mornings and sleeping at night – Simon seems to run on an extremely specific schedule. When you asked him about it, he told you it was from the military, which made sense. Either way, you were grateful to him for helping you keep on track.
The water and power were both still on, but Simon kept telling you not to keep your hopes up about it lasting long.
You spent your days learning knife etiquette and practicing stabbing various targets that Simon made for you. You’ve grown much more confident. Of course, you would be no match for your teacher himself but against a bumbling walking corpse? You were sure you would be able to at least buy yourself time to escape if you needed.
Eventually, Simon decided it was time to move onto what you were most scared of – guns.
“I’m going to tell you a few things before I let you hold this,” he said, eyes hardened to show how serious he was as he held a pistol in his hands, “Are you paying attention?”
“Of course,” you breathe, wringing your hands in front of you as you eye the weapon.
“You can’t be scared of your weapons,” he advises, “You need to be confident and sure with every movement you make. It’s not a toy.”
“Hard not to be scared of it…” you confess, “What if I hurt someone with it or…I don’t know.”
“That’s why I’m teaching you all this,” he says, “You’ll get confident and less scared the more you handle them. We’re startin’ you off simple and you can build up to bigger and badder guns. For now…pistols will do.”
“Okay,” you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Tell me what I need to know.”
“That’s the spirit,” he praises, holding the pistol up for you to see how he grips it, “First, never put your finger on the trigger unless you’re going to shoot. Just rest your finger on the side like this, see,” he turns his hand and lets you see the way he keeps his finger hovering beside the trigger rather than on it.
You nod your head, “Got it.”
“Take it,” he says, “Carefully.”
You stare at the offered weapon for just a moment before you reach out and delicately take it from his hands, “Next, never point it at anyone you don’t intend to shoot. Whether it’s loaded or not, keep it pointed away from people and yourself.”
You mimic his grip, grimacing when you realize it's actually much heavier than you thought it would be. It was definitely going to take practice before you built up the ability to hold it for long periods. You follow his instructions and keep it pointed to the ground – albeit awkwardly.
“Here,” he suddenly steps behind you.
You feel your heart catch in your chest when you feel him press against your back. He’s incredibly warm and firm as you lean against him. He carefully takes your hands in his, supporting your hands and holding the gun eye level.
“Just practice lining up your sight and lookin at a target,” he says.
His face is so close to yours, his voice right in your ear, deep and gravelly with that heavy accent. You struggle to process his words, hoping to god he doesn’t hear how fast your heart has started racing.
You close one eye and focus on aiming at a photo on his wall, a small picture frame. His large, gloved hands dwarf your own and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him. He smells like cigarettes and the body wash you may have taken a quick whiff of when you used his shower for the first time. You find yourself wondering when he has time to smoke since you’ve never actually seen him do it.
Your mind is blank beyond anything other than him. How big and warm he is, how safe you feel with him wrapped around you, how good he smells and how much you love his voice as he utters tips and commands into your ear – sickly sweet in that way he always seems to talk to you.
If you focused too much on it, you’d slowly come to the realization that you may have a crush on him. But you quickly dash that thought from your head and focus back on his gun lesson as he teaches you how to eject a magazine with ease.
This is about survival. Neither of you have time to dwell on a silly crush.
A few days later, you’re standing in the eerie hallway with him. He had offered for you to just stay in the apartment and relax while he did the work but you honestly didn’t want to be alone so you opted to sit with him as he worked.
Your back was against the wall, sipping a cup of instant coffee you had made. Simon was silent as he worked on barricading the door to the stairwell. You both agreed that it was best if it was still accessible just in case something happened, but you didn’t want any unnecessary visitors making their way into the safe little haven you’ve both made for yourselves.
“We should think about looting the empty apartments,” you said suddenly, trying to keep your eyes off of his bulging biceps as he yanked on a strap that was attached to the doorknob to keep the door from being opened.
“That’s a good idea,” he grunted, stepping back to admire his handiwork when he finally finished testing its durability, “Let’s do it.”
He offered his hand and you smiled, taking it and letting him pull you to your feet. You brushed off imaginary dust in an effort to hide how flustered just holding his hand for that brief second made you.
You started at the other end of the hallway from your shared apartment. Simon displayed a disturbing aptitude for opening up very locked doors. You chose not to comment on it, instead silently being thankful that he was able to do it at all.
“How about we make a loot pile in the hallway so we can bring it all inside when we’re ready?” you suggest.
“Alright,” he responds, eyes scanning over the cabinets in the kitchen, “Food is our main priority but it wouldn’t hurt to have some medical supplies.”
You agreed and started helping him pick things out, filling your arms full of canned goods and pill bottles which you then deposited in the hallway by your apartment.
The two of you made it through a handful of apartments, securing a nice resource pile for the two of you. You were feeling good, hopeful, as you stared at your future right there in the silent hallway.
It wasn’t until you opened one in particular— it belonged to a shy, college kid, you remember— that it seems everything changes for you. He couldn’t have been but 18, away from home for the first time and living in his first apartment on his own.
Simon is busy looting the kitchen, you can hear him placing cans on the counter, consolidating whatever it is he chooses to bring with him. You check the bedroom, looking through the drawers and pocketing a bottle of aspirin and nausea medication before you move to the bathroom.
The second you push open the door, you’re met with the force of another person shoving into you. You cry out as you hit the ground, the person falling on top of you. You panic and scramble out from under them, their coughing and wheezing forcing you to look at them.
It’s the kid who lives there. He’s deathly pale, dark circles under his eyes which are bloodshot. His lips are crusty and dry, seemingly struggling with finding something to say.
“Pl-” he starts to whisper before you see movement in the corner of your eye.
“Simon, wait!” you cry when you see the knife.
But it’s too late, the hunting knife you had held with your own two hands more times than you could count, is embedded in the kids skull, spraying blood all over you. All you can do is make a pathetic squeak, fear and panic rendering you unable to say anything as you watch his now lifeless body flop onto the ground beside you, his still warm blood soaking into your clothes as it runs out of the gaping hole in his head.
“The fuck were you thinkin’?!” Simon suddenly shouts, storming over to you and yanking you to your feet roughly.
You stumble up, bumping into him as you stare at the dead body on the floor, “He..He was alive…I…”
“He was sick!” Simon snarls, roughly wrapping his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him. There was a fire in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, making you cower, “You’re lucky he didn’t bite you! Fuckin’ hell, are you stupid?!”
“H-He was talking, he was just sick, Simon!” you argued, tears filling your eyes as you stared up at him, “W-We could have given him medicine, could have–”
“He was a dead man walking,” he shouts, the volume making you flinch, “He was going to turn. Are you a fuckin’ idiot? Thinkin’ we could save him?”
The tears you were holding fell down your cheeks at his cruel words and you glared up at him, “I-I’m not stupid, I just…h-he talked to me!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Simon’s eyes narrow, “He was a threat. A liability. Don’t fuckin’ worry about him, worry about yourself.”
He releases you with a rough shove, taking out some of his anger on you. He continues to glare at you for a long minute before turning his back on you and stalking out of the room, muttering about how stupid it was that you could have killed yourself over some random kid.
Your eyes fall on said kid, no more blood coming from the wound, simply coagulating on the floor around him, “Y-You’re a monster.”
The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, quiet and shaky. But Simon hears them clear, freezing on the other side of the doorway, in the hall.
“I’m a monster..?” he asks, voice suddenly eerily calm. He turns around, his large body taking up an obscene amount of the doorway. You can tell he’s intentionally trying to intimidate you, a punishment that makes your cheeks heat up in anger, “I’ve been breakin’ my back to keep your stupid ass alive and I’m a monster? Because I put down some fucker that was gonna turn rabid in a day?” he glares at you, squinting through the mask and drawing his dark eyebrows together, “You think it’s easy for me? I’m doin’ everything I can to keep you safe!” he shouts so loud that your ears ring and you flinch from the sound alone, “But if you can’t appreciate that then maybe you should be on your fuckin’ own and see how long it takes before you’re ripped apart by those feral bastards!”
He storms off at that, loudly slamming the front door, indicating his final exit from the apartment. You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks only for more to replace them and you sniffle, casting a sorrowful glance at the dead kid before creeping out of the apartment yourself.
Simon is nowhere in the hall but the supplies you both gathered are still there.
You carefully open the door to Simon’s apartment and peek inside, finding it completely silent and still. You’re not sure where he went but you decide to busy yourself with loading all your looted items into the kitchen and sorting them all for when he returns.
You’re not sure how long you take to finish but Simon still isn’t back and you become worried.
He had said you should be on your own but surely he didn’t actually just leave the building, did he?
You wander over to his supplies and find a handful of his weapons gone. Your heart shoots into your throat and more tears prick at your eyes before you’re dashing out of the apartment once again.
The door to the stairwell is no longer held shut, indicating that Simon had, in fact, gone that way. You curse yourself. If you had checked sooner then he would have at least been somewhere close but if he really left, he would be long out of the building by now.
You creep towards the door and slowly push it open. You hadn’t even left the floor since before this whole thing started. It was eerily quiet, but if you listened close you could hear some muffled shuffling from somewhere.
You crept out, quickly realizing how dark it was. You pulled out your keychain which held a tiny flashlight that you used to navigate when it was dark in the apartment.
You crept down the stairs, holding your breath with every step until you finally reached the floor below you. You can hear muffled sounds from beyond the door and slowly push it open, flashing the light down the hallway.
It's too small and weak to penetrate the stifling darkness. The power was not on on this floor for some reason and that immediately set you on edge. You could still hear some shuffling and strange, raspy noises from within the darkness.
“Simon..?” you call into the impenetrable, oppressive darkness. The noises stop for a moment and you swallow around the nervous lump in your throat, “Simon?” you call again, louder.
The noises return, shuffling, heavy footsteps advance on you. You strain your eyes to see past the weak illumination that your flashlight provides. You’re breathing heavily, you realize, anxiety making your lungs feel constricted as the footsteps get closer and closer.
All of the sudden, a disgusting, rotted face appears in your sights, arms outstretched towards you. You scream out in unbridled terror as it grabs you, its bony, sickening fingers latching onto your shoulders. You attempt to push it away and run but you trip over your own two feet in your panic. Your flashlight flies out of sight, its dim illumination casting down the hallway, leaving you to push at the undead corpse as it collapses on top of you. Its weight is more than you thought it would be, leaving your arms trembling as you struggle to keep it from falling on top of you. It fights your resistance and chomps its disgusting teeth at your face, attempting to get a bite out of your flesh.
It reeks, you realize, like the smell of a dead animal you pass by on the street. It makes your stomach turn and you fear you’re going to throw up from the smell alone. The rotting skin of its chest slips and pulls away from the bone and muscle and you gag, tears coming to your eyes as you realize the very real and terrifying danger you’re in.
You have no way to get out of this.
As you look down the hall, where the light barely pierced the inky depths, you can see more figures emerging from further down the hall, shuffling and rasping in interest at your fight with the one on top of you.
Tears fall down your temples and a sob bursts from your chest as you slowly come to terms that this is how you’re going to die. You can’t hold the sheer weight of the undead above you for much longer.
“S-Simon…” you call out, weak and strained. You know even if he’s nearby he won’t hear you. You have to try harder, get your voice out, shout for him. You swallow around your tears and panic, taking a full breath before shouting, “Simon! Please! Simon, help me!”
You don’t even register the door opening behind you. But you do notice when the weight of the corpse is gone, a knife stabbing into its skull before a large hand grabs you by the back of the shirt and drags you back into the stairwell. The undead follow after you, slamming themselves against the door as soon as it slams closed.
You’re trembling and unable to blink or breathe as the shock of what just happened washes over you.
“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Simon all but screams, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, dragging you onto unsteady feet that can’t hold you up before slamming you against the wall. You can still hear those zombies slamming against the door. Your ears are ringing and you barely register Simon shouting at you.
He shakes you and it finally draws your attention to him. His eyes are wide, irises darting back and forth over your face. He doesn’t look nearly as angry as you would expect. Instead he looks…concerned.
Scared.
“Simon…” you whisper, the tears not stopping as they fall down your cheeks. He’s the only thing holding you up right now, hands balled in the material of your shirt, keeping you pinned to the wall, “I-I was…I was looking for you…”
He’s panting, shoulders rising and falling as he struggles to compose himself, “Lookin’ for me?”
“Y-You said you were leaving and I…” you whimper, “I-I didn’t want you to go so…I went to find you…I didn’t think that…”
You see his jaw tense through his mask before he slowly lets go of your shirt. Your knees tremble under your own weight and your hands find purchase against his chest.
“Fuckin’ hell…” he mutters, stepping away from you with a heavy sigh, “Just don’t…do that again, got it?”
You nod your head, sniffling as you feel your tears slowly come to a stop, “Th-Thank you, Simon…for saving me…”
“Yeah,” he grunts, turning his back to you, storming back up the stairs to your floor.
You unsteadily follow behind him, still a shaky and anxious mess. When you get into the apartment, Simon is in the kitchen, barely sparing you a glance.
“Go take a shower,” he orders you.
You linger in the doorway for a moment, hoping that he’ll look at you even for a second. But he doesn’t and you hang your head, skulking off to take your shower with a heavy heart.
The night rolls around and Simon hasn’t said a word, putting you more on edge with each passing minute. He sits, manspreading on the couch with a glass of Kentucky bourbon in a glass, sipping on it and watching some old movie that he put on play. Usually, he asks you if you’d like to watch with him, but this time he didn’t and that just makes your heart ache even more.
“Simon…” you venture to ask, casting a glance at him. His hard gaze doesn’t move from the TV, “I-I want to apologize–”
“For what?” he asks, the first words he’s spoken to you in hours. They’re cold and make you wince.
“F-For what I said…” you mutter, tucking your legs underneath you as you turn to look at him, “I…I was mean. I know you’re doing all you can for me and it wasn’t fair of me to get angry at you…I was just…startled, I guess.”
“You were naive,” he snaps, finally looking at you with a harsh glare, “You had no fuckin’ idea what those monsters were and you almost got yourself killed because of it.”
“Y-You’re right…” you whisper, feeling the tears pricking your eyes for the millionth time that day, “I’m sorry, Simon.”
He doesn’t respond, simply throwing back his glass of bourbon, downing it all before he stands up, “Sleep on the couch.”
The last thing you hear from him is his bedroom door slamming shut. You lay down that night, quietly crying into the pillow until you finally fell back asleep.
“Wake up!” a barking voice is what draws you out of your slumber.
Still shaken up from yesterday’s previous events, you sit straight up, wild, fearful eyes looking around before your gaze falls upon Simon. He stands in front of the couch, dressed in full tactical gear. Even his balaclava is different, with a hard plate in the shape of a skull covering the front. He looks intimidating.
“Wh-What’re you doing?” you ask, turning yourself so your feet are on the floor.
“We’re trainin’, get up,” he commands and you have no choice but to follow.
You find yourself following him out of the apartment and into the dimly lit hallway. It’s eerily quiet as always and you feel more intimidated than ever standing before him in nothing but some flimsy pajamas while he wears full gear. Even his gaze is different through that skull mask, hard and cold, looking down at you like you’re insignificant.
It’s so different from before. He was so kind and patient with you before and you can tell that now he’s going to really train you.
“What’re we doing today..?” you timidly ask, wringing your hands in front of yourself.
“Escaping,” he responds.
“Escaping?” you parrot back dumbly.
His glare narrows down at you, “You’re going to try to get away from me and make it towards that exit.”
He points to the other end of the hallway, to the stairwell. You glance up at him, where he stands between you and your exit.
“Okay…” you lick your lips nervously, “Do you want me to just run past you?”
“For now,” he drawls. He sounds almost bored, hands wrapped around the straps of his tactical vest.
You take a deep breath and attempt to bolt past him but his reflexes are frighteningly fast. His arm shoots out before you even realize it, catching you around your middle and halting you immediately.
The air is punched out of your lungs from the force of his arms and you stumble back with a groan.
“You’re goin’ to have to do better than that,” he says, looking down his nose at you like you had offended him with your poor attempt.
You brace yourself again and attempt to run past him. This time, you attempt to fake him out and run in the other direction but it ends the same with his arm grappling around your middle and you still not any closer to the exit.
“Again!” he barks and you can’t help but wonder if this was how he was when he was training recruits in the military.
You try again and again to run past him, duck under his arm, avoid his reach – everything to no avail. After several attempts, you’re left panting and frustrated. Simon is still as cool as a cucumber, staring at you in pure boredom as he awaits your next move.
You run again, making rough contact with his arm once again. But this time you start fighting against his hold. You push with all your might, shoving at his arm and his side in an attempt to slip past him.
“There you go,” he says, though it sounds more condescending than proud, “Fight me.”
You slam your fist down over his arm, successfully knocking it out of the way and giving you a chance to bolt past him. You have a clear view of the stairwell door and you can almost taste the success.
But you’re stopped suddenly when a rough hand grabs the back of your shirt. You cry out in shock when he yanks you back towards him, carelessly tossing you to the floor. You hit the rough carpet harshly, the coarse material skinning your hands and knees and you cry out at the pain.
“Simon!” you chastise him, glaring up at him when he comes to stand in front of you, “That fucking hurt!”
“Oh, it hurt?” he sneers, squatting beside you, behemoth form still dwarfing your own as he gets down on your level, “It’s not supposed to feel good. This is training. You’re supposed to try and survive, not whine and cry because you fell on the floor.”
You sit on your burning knees and glare at him. He glares back at you, neither of you backing down.
“Get up,” he commands, standing up, “Go again.”
By the time he allowed the training to be called off, your body was sore and bruised from the amount of times you’d been thrown to the floor. Your knees burn and ache from where the skin had been rubbed off and you fight back tears as you watch the dried blood crust on your skin.
Simon is no more rough for wear than he was before – all your hitting, kicking, pushing, and biting hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. He wasn’t even winded.
Worse more, you hadn’t made it anywhere near the door.
You weren’t sure how Simon felt about it. If he was mad or disappointed, he didn’t say. As soon as you got into the apartment, he went about making dinner after ordering you to wash up.
When you got out of the shower, he tossed a first aid kit to you and silently sat down in the kitchen to eat.
Usually, you would sit with him but you found yourself deciding to eat on the couch by yourself. A sense of loneliness settled upon you that you hadn’t felt since before you had moved into this apartment with him and you find yourself hiding your tears in your food.
Once again, you’re sleeping on the couch. You wouldn’t have minded it if it didn’t feel so much like a punishment. You felt like a dog banished to sleep in the dog house and you can’t help but curl in on yourself at the cold, empty feeling that it causes.
The next morning follows much the same with Simon startling you awake with a barked order. Your body aches and your wounds sting with every movement you make as you drag yourself behind him to the hallway.
“Do we have to do this again today, Simon?” you ask hopelessly, “I’m really tired…”
“Do you think those undead freaks are going to care if you’re tired?” he snaps at you, arms crossed, making him appear even bigger than he already was, “You’re goin’ to learn how to escape from holds.”
“Simon…” you start to complain but a sharp look from him has the words dying on your tongue and you hand your head in defeat.
He’s no more gentle than he was yesterday with you, rough grips and manhandling you around to fit his needs. He barks in your ear, ordering what you need to do and when to break various holds that he has on your body.
He feels so much stronger and more powerful than those zombies had. At least they were mindless and slow. Simon was fast and smart.
“Put your hand under mine to break the hold!” he shouts, clearly frustrated the more you fuck up breaking his holds.
“Not like that! Are you daft?” he grits through clenched teeth, “You’re goin’ to fuckin wind up dead if you keep this up!”
You feel your heart rate speed up and you find yourself almost panicking under his completely oppressive energy. His shouting only sets you more on edge and the tears begin to prick at your eyes once again.
“None of those fuckin’ tears,” he snarls, tightening his hold on you when you squirm and attempt to rid his body weight off of yours, “Do what I told you! You can break the hold if you just fuckin’ focus!”
“Simon, I-I don’t want to do this anymore!” you cry, the tears tumbling down your cheeks as you cry out the words. Your cheeks feel hot and you can barely catch your breath as you weakly punch at his chest.
“There’s no tappin’ out,” he snaps, tightening his grip on you even more. Your body aches where he holds and you know you’re going to be feeling those bruises for days to come.
“Simon!” you practically screech, freeing one hand and harshly slamming your fist down over the hard faceplate.
It seems to startle him enough into loosening his hold and you manage to kick back away from him in your panic, foot hitting him square in the chest in an effort to propel yourself away – putting as much distance as fast as you can between the two of you.
“Simon…” you whimper, voice wobbling, “I am not one of your soldiers. You need to stop trying to train me like I am!”
You watch him adjust his jaw through his mask before he pops his neck. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you and every hair on your body stands up in pure fear.
He’s on top of you before you even have the chance to say another word. You cry out when the force of his body forces you back and your head cracks harshly against the floor. Your vision blacks out from the force and you groan in pain but he doesn’t stop, a rough forearm pinning against your throat, cutting off your air.
“That was good,” he says, voice cold and devoid of any emotion, “You managed to escape, now do it again!”
Your hands push weakly against him, but you’re worn out and your head is starting to hurt like hell. You open your mouth to say something but his hold on your throat ceases any words from escaping.
You reach up to his face and his cold gaze narrows at you, “You already tried that. It won’t work again.”
But instead of hitting him, your fingers wrap around the face plate and you attempt to push it off – hoping that it’ll obscure his vision enough but he shakes you off with ease.
He catches your gaze and what he sees gives him pause. Wide, teary eyes, red rimmed and filled to the brim with fear. Tears wet your cheeks and he finally notices the way your entire body is tense and trembling beneath him.
“P-Please,” you finally find your voice when his weight eases a bit off of your throat, “I-I don’t want to do this anymore, Simon, please.”
That has his own eyes widening and you take his slackened hold as an opportunity to run away. He watches you scramble up from your spot on the floor and stumble back to the apartment, disappearing within with a slam that makes him flinch. He looks down at his own hands and finds that he can’t conjure up any thoughts that aren’t about you.
You hear him enter the apartment, his heavy footfalls pacing around the living room. You’re hiding in the bathroom, leaning against the door with your knees against your chest to muffle your cries.
He enters the bedroom and pauses, no doubt looking for you before he approaches the bathroom and you feel a brief ping of fear that he’s going to open the door but instead he softly knocks.
“Will you come out so we can talk?” he asks, voice holding none of the cold, harshness that it had for the last few days.
“G-Go away, Simon,” you sniffle.
You can hear him sigh before he follows your request and steps away from the door. You can hear him linger in the bedroom for several more minutes, kicking his boots off before he’s quietly closing the bedroom door and leaving.
The silence and loneliness sinks in once more and you find yourself sobbing into your knees all over again. Your head kills and you feel almost nauseous through your cries from the headache but you can’t stop yourself.
You have no idea how long you cry for but before you know it, the bedroom door opens once again and you can hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he approaches the bathroom door once again.
“I made something for you to eat,” he says through the door, “Figured you might be hungry.” At the idea of food, your stomach growls, “It’ll be waiting for you at the table when you want it.”
You listen to him walk away and you know this is his way of luring you out of the bathroom. Part of you desperately wants to spite him for being so mean to you and refuse his food but the growling in your stomach is too much to bear and you can’t help but clamber to your feet and quietly pull the door open.
When you reach the living room, Simon is facing the TV, giving no indication that he realizes you’ve come out of your hiding place. You sneak into the kitchen to see a bowl of soup sitting nicely at an empty spot. You take a seat and quickly devour the entire bowl, barely taking a break to breathe before it’s completely empty.
You place it in the sink and carefully sneak back out of the kitchen, intending to slide right past him but in your haste you fail to notice that he’s no longer sitting on the couch. Instead, you come face to face with him sitting at the foot of his bed, clearly waiting for you.
You freeze when you see him and all too soon that headache comes racing back to the forefront of your mind.
Simon’s no longer wearing the skull plate and instead wears his usual black balaclava with the skull print on it. He wears a t-shirt and sweatpants, obviously having let himself get comfortable while you hid in the bathroom earlier.
He looks up at you the second you step into the room and the two of you halt in a stalemate, simply staring at one another while you wait for the other to make the first move.
You’re the first to break eye contact when a heavy throb goes through your head, making you close your eyes and bring your hand to your head until it passes. You hear the bed creak when Simon stands up before his hands are cupping your cheeks.
“You hit your head, didn’t you?” he asks, soft and gentle.
You can’t stop yourself from glaring and snapping, “No thanks to you.”
His gaze softens as his hand finds its way to the back of your head, ever so softly prodding at the sizable bump that’s there, “I’m sorry, love.”
“If you’re sorry then why did you do it?” you find those damned tears returning all over again as you continue to glare up at him, “I told you I didn’t like it and I wanted to stop.”
“I know…” he whispers, hands once again cupping your cheeks, thumbing your tears away.
“What was your problem, Simon?” you tearfully ask, sniffling pathetically, “You hurt me. You were scary – scarier than those stupid zombies downstairs. Why did you do that?”
“I got…I was…” he struggled to find the right words before he stepped away from you with a troubled expression, “I was angry— scared. I just—I don’t know.”
“You were scared?” you scoff, “I’m the one who got attacked.”
“You think that wasn’t scary for me?” he asks in disbelief, “You almost got eaten alive on my watch.”
“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” you sniffle, angrily storming over to the bed, letting yourself flop down on the comfortable mattress for the first time in days.
“I know,” he whispers, “Just let me explain, okay?”
You lay there silently, listening to his weight shift where he stands. You take notice of how his scent lingers much more on the blankets now that he’s slept on it. It smells good, you note, musky and delicate. He doesn’t wear anything that smells particularly overpowering.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, “Ever since this shit happened, I’ve been driving myself crazy. I lost contact with my team, my friends. I’m not able to get anymore information on what's goin’ on outside. I’m worried about you, I’m trying my hardest to make sure you can go out there and survive on your own if you need to. I feel like I’m going crazy and I’m scared because I’ve never felt this out of control before.”
You sit up and turn to face him, “How long have you been feeling like this, Simon..?”
“A while,” he mutters, turning his back on you when your gaze starts to feel like too much, “And then you called me a monster and I just…” he trails off, seemingly unsure of how to explain his feelings properly.
“I’m sorry for that, Simon,” you mutter sincerely, reaching out to grab his arm, urging him to turn around, “I never should have said that. And I didn’t mean it, really.”
“Well, you were right, weren’t you?” he scoffs, “I am a monster. Fuck, look at what I did to you – how I treated you. I was punishing you and I never should have.”
“We both made mistakes,” you compromise with a wobbly smile, “We’re dealing with a lot, right? The fucking world is ending and we’ve been trapped in this godforsaken building for who knows how long. It’ll get easier.”
He stares at you for a long moment, lashes fluttering as his gaze softens. You can’t find it in yourself to break eye contact. After a long moment, he seems to decide on something before reaching up and yanking the mask covering his face off.
You feel your breath halt in your chest as your eyes widen, taking in every inch of his newly revealed face. His soft, brown eyes are a juxtaposition to the rest of his ruggedly handsome face. You stand up, never letting your eyes stray from him, a feeling of pure awe coming over you.
“You’re so handsome, Si,” you whisper, reaching forward to brush your fingers over a scar that cuts through his eyebrow to his eyelid, “It’s nice to finally see you.”
“I wanted you to see the real me,” he whispers, “Not the asshole soldier I was.”
“I’m glad you’ve trusted me with this,” you let your fingers wander along his skin, feeling the stubble on his jaw that he hadn’t yet shaved.
“I need to tell you,” he sounds breathy, reaching up and catching your hand in his, pressing your palm flat against his cheek, “I was so scared when I heard you callin’ for me. I thought I was goin’ to be too late and I’d watch you die. I was terrified that I would lose you.”
“Simon…” you whisper in awe, watching how his soft, brown eyes display every tumultuous emotion that he experiences, “I’m sorry. I won’t do anything to worry you again.”
“I want you by my side for as long as you’re able,” he whispers, throat moving as he swallows.
“I won’t go anywhere,” you agree, stepping closer to him, “I promise.”
He leans in at the same time as you, meeting you for a sweet, tender kiss. It lasts only a second before you’re both pulling back to look in each other's eyes. Then, you’re both surging forward for a hungry, heated kiss.
His hands grip your waist, squeezing there as he deepens the kiss. You whimper under his touch, standing on your tip-toes to match the intensity of his kiss.
He moves you backwards, your knees hitting the edge of the bed, causing you to topple down. Simon follows, catching himself on his hands on either side of your head. He only breaks the kiss for a moment to move you further up the bed, easily manhandling you so your head is in the pillows before he’s kissing you all over again.
His hands are rough as they travel over your body, slipping your shirt up just enough to let him touch your bare sides. You quickly realize you’re still wearing your sleep clothes and that you don’t have a bra on.
Clearly, Simon was aware because his hand quickly cups your bare breast with a rough, callused hand. His thumb finds your nipple, flicking over the bud as you whine into his mouth.
He pulls back suddenly, cheeks flushed before he’s fumbling with the hem of your shirt.
“Arms up, sweetheart,” he coos, sickly sweet.
You follow his orders and eagerly lift your arms up for him to tug the fabric of your shirt over your head. Once your breasts are bared to him, he’s leaning down to wrap his lips around one perked nipple while his fingers busy themselves with the other.
You cry out at the feeling of his teeth nipping at the sensitive bud, hands tangling in his soft, curly hair. He groans against your breast at the feeling of your pulling at his hair before he pulls back just a bit, breathlessly whispering, “Such perfect tits.”
“Simon…” you whimper, letting yourself relax into the bed as he switches to mouth at your other nipple, leaving the other to harden in the cool air before his hand travels down your stomach to your shorts, easily slipping underneath the fabric.
“Simon!” you call out again when you feel the heat of his hand cup your folds through your panties.
“Shh, just let me do the work, love,” he mumbled, muffled by the fact he refuses to part from suckling on your nipple.
His tongue drags over your breast, nipping and sucking marks into your skin. As he works the muscle, his hand in your panties remains stationary, just letting you feel the heat of it against your core. The teasing presence only makes you pulse and drool into your panties. You’re positive the fabric must be sticking to you by now from how wet you’ve become from playing with your breasts.
“Your tits are so sensitive,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Does it feel good, darlin’?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, arching your back to offer up your chest to him all over again.
He grins, a crooked little smile that makes your heart flutter. It was so nice to finally see him smile.
But instead of mouthing at your breasts again, he leans back on his heels and pulls his hand from your panties. You whine at the loss but it’s cut short when he hooks his fingers into them and tugs them down your legs. You lift your hips to assist him but find yourself wincing when an ache goes through your body.
He notices and gently runs the palm of his hands up your thighs, urging you to relax.
“You sore, love?” he asks, voice filled with what you can only call guilt.
“A little…” you admit, biting your lip, “My thighs are killing me, actually.”
He shakes his head at himself and leans down, pressing a kiss next to the scrape on one of your knees as his hands slowly begin to knead the sore muscles in your thighs. You sigh and let your eyes flutter at the feeling.
With your eyes closed, you don’t realize he leans down until you feel a hot, wet tongue slide from your pubic bone to your sternum. Your cunt clenches pathetically at the feeling. When you open your eyes, Simon’s pretty, brown eyes are half-lidded and his tongue hangs out of his mouth. You can’t resist cupping the back of his head and pulling him for a kiss, whimpering and moaning against his mouth.
“Fingers or tongue?” he asks, muffled and messy against your lips.
“What?” your hazy mind can’t quite comprehend what he’s asking of you.
“Do you want my fingers or my tongue?” he reiterates, “I want to make you cum.”
You whimper at that, “B-Both!”
He scoffs, full brows furrowing, “Greedy.”
You find yourself blushing at that but he doesn’t deny your request. He sinks down your body, peppering kisses down your body on the way until he kneels on the floor at the foot of the bed.
He grabs your hips and effortlessly yanks you down so your legs hang off the edge of the bed.
He spreads your thighs apart and you find yourself holding your breath, watching through your lashes as he trails kisses up your thigh, getting closer to where you want him the most. You’re trembling under his attention and it makes you clench pathetically around absolutely nothing. You’re sure he can see the way your cunt drools and leaks with every small kiss he peppers against your skin.
Just when he gets close, he pulls back and kisses back down towards your knee. The teasing has you wound taut, feeling as if you’re almost on the edge without him ever properly touching you.
It feels like hours that he does it, kissing up and down your thighs. Occasionally, he nips at the skin there, swirling his tongue over the burning marks he leaves behind to soothe the sting. Finally, he moves his hand and you think he’s going to finally give you something but all he does is spread your folds apart with two fingers, exposing your hole and clit to the cool bedroom air. The action makes you whine but he pays you no mind.
He carries on kissing your thighs and nipping at your skin. No matter how much you rut your hips, hoping to entice him into touching you and giving you what you really need, he ignores it. He ignores your whines and the cries of his name, ignores the way your cunt clenches and drools around nothing, clit twitching from how much teasing you’re enduring.
The little bud aches, throbbing as it begs for anything – any little touch that he has to offer. He could blow air upon the nub right now and you’re sure you would explode in pure pleasure.
When you sob his name, broken and needier than you’ve ever heard yourself, he finally looks up. His eyelids are heavy, concealing half of his iris and it makes him look positively fucked out.
“Look at me,” he commands, licking his lips slowly, “Right in the eyes, let me see you properly.”
You force yourself to meet his penetrating gaze, almost struggling to compose yourself. You find yourself trapped in the eye contact, almost paralyzed under his intoxicating gaze. He holds you there for what feels like minutes but in reality is probably just a few seconds.
His fingers finally hone in on your clit, pressing against the twitching, hardened bud. You cum immediately, still locked in that intoxicating eye contact. You cry out, hands slapping against the bed as he draws the orgasm out of you with slow circles on the little bud, sticky clicking sounds filling the room and mixing with your wild cries of pleasure. It seems like the high never stops, more and more cum gushing from your cunt and dripping down to stain the comforter beneath you.
Simon watches you with keen attention, taking in every expression you make as he makes you cum against his fingers, the bud throbbing wildly until the orgasm finally dissipates.
When you finally sag against the bed, your thighs fall completely open as the post-orgasm exhaustion quickly hits. You’re left trembling and twitching through the aftershocks, pretty pussy still drooling with every clench of your walls.
Simon takes the opportunity of you coming down to strip himself. He tugs his shirt off over his head and lets his sweatpants drop the floor, carelessly kicking them away. His gaze never leaves you, never leaves that twitching little cunt between your legs.
There’s a slick film of your cum coating your folds and his mouth fucking waters.
Your eyes fly open, not even realizing that you had closed them, when he suddenly cups the back of your thighs and pins you wide open for him.
“Simon…” you pathetically coo, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair when he comes within reach.
“So sweet for me,” he coos, kissing your thigh once again and you’re scared that he’s going to tease you all over again, “A good orgasm got you nice and sweet, huh?”
“Mhm,” you mutter, dazedly looking at him as you feel his breath on your sensitive cunt.
That alone makes you clench around nothing. You nearly whimper out loud when you see his tongue fall from his mouth, glistening with spit before he licks a slow, wide stripe between your folds.
When he comes back up, he holds his tongue out and lets you see the creamy mess of your cum left behind. He makes a show of swallowing every drop in his mouth, making your cheeks flush in pure embarrassment at such a lewd display.
You had no idea Simon would be so fucking filthy in bed but the way his eyes roll back at your taste tells you all that you need to know.
He loudly slurps your clit between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sloppy bud as he whines and groans into your cunt. You tug harshly at his hair at the overwhelming feeling of having your clit doted on so expertly.
His hands keep you pinned open, allowing him to slip his tongue inside you, occasionally taking a moment to visibly swallow every drop of your slick so you can see the way he absolutely savors your taste.
He swirls that offending tongue around your clit again, slurping it back into his mouth before two fingers are prodding at your entrance. You clench against him, the excitement of finally being filled with something making you whimper. Just the sound of you so eager makes him almost want to cum completely untouched.
Your cum generously coats his face and he absolutely loves it. He pulls away suddenly, dark eyes locking onto your face as he pants from how lost he was in eating you out. He slowly presses two fingers inside you, letting them slide in, hugged by the plushness of your walls.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet, love,” he coos, moaning sympathetically when you cry out from the feeling of being stretched on his fingers, “And so warm too, fuck.”
He decides, in that moment, that he doesn’t care if the world is ending outside, he feels nothing but bliss with you. He never wants this to end, he wants to get completely lost in the pure intoxication of you.
He leans down, flattening his tongue against your clit once again. The feeling is heightened now that he’s got his thick fingers stuffed inside you. You clench around him at the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive bud once more.
He suddenly crooks his fingers and your legs helplessly kick in the air at the overwhelming feeling of him pressing and prodding against that gooey little spot inside you. Your hips rabbit up and you practically wail at the overwhelming sensations he’s attacking you with. You squeal his name so sweetly before he finally backs off a bit, letting you sink back into the soft cushions of the bed.
He’s completely drunk off of you, off the creamy cum you gush out for him to lick up, off the lovely sounds you let out from how good he makes you feel. His cock is so painfully hard and he wants so badly to wrap his hand around himself but he knows he’ll blow his load the second he does, so he refrains.
To distract himself from the ache in his cock, he doubles his focus on you and making you feel good. His fingers crook upwards again, prodding your g-spot again with renewed vigor. You cry out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he sucks your clit into his mouth, the suction making your thighs tremble.
“I-I wanna cum!” you cry out, fingers still tugging harshly at his hair.
He groans against you but doesn’t dare to part from you, too focused on bringing you to your high to actually goad you into it. His fingers move inside you, fucking you nice and deep, making sure he’s working that sweet little spot inside you as he continues to suck on your clit.
It doesn’t take long before your entire body stiffens and you toss your head back. The choked out cry is music to his ears and his own eyes roll back when he feels the way your walls tighten around him, soaking his fingers generously. Your clit throbs in his mouth before he releases his suction on it, instead choosing to lick the pulsing little bud with the flat of his tongue to gently ease you through the high.
You’re pushing his head away long before he’s ready to part but he willingly backs off nonetheless. His chin is wet with your cum, even dripping down his neck and the sight makes you flush. There’s a loud, squishy noise when he slowly pulls his fingers from the hot clutch of your cunt.
“Scoot back for me, darlin’,” he commands you, slurring a little before he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of the mess you left behind.
You do as he says, shakily pushing yourself back so you can lay your head in the pillows. With Simon standing at the foot of the bed, you finally get the chance to take a look at him.
He’s obviously incredibly well built, broad and firm in all the right places. Most notably, he has numerous scars, some that looked like bullet wounds and others that were long and thin.
“Are all those from the military?” you find yourself asking as he carefully crawls onto the bed, jostling you as the mattress moves under his weight.
“Yeah,” he breathes, leaning down to press his lips against yours.
You let him handle your body as he pleases, spreading your legs so he can comfortably situate himself between them. His cock, hard and heavy, rests against your folds and you find your eyes going wide at the sight of it.
“Somethin’ the matter?” he chuckles, like he can hear what you’re thinking.
“That’s not going to fit,” you breathe, unable to tear your gaze off the twitching, fat length of him.
“‘Course it will, love,” he breathes, pecking your lips again, letting his lips trail down over your jaw, “I worked you open real good, all you gotta do is relax and let me in.”
With a minute adjustment of his hips, the tip prods your entrance. He grips the base of his length, carefully pushing forward, mouth dropping open as he feels your hot, wet walls spread around the head of him.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts, “Jus’ let me do the work.”
Your hands fly down to grip his forearms, nails biting harder into the skin there the deeper he sinks into you. The middle of his cock is the fattest, giving you an almost painful stretch that makes your face pinch up in a way that Simon doesn’t like.
He brings one hand to his mouth, licking his thumb before carefully pressing the digit against that sensitive bud. You whimper at the feeling, cunt clutching tight around him, easing more of his length inside. He circles your clit a few more times, watching your face for any clear signs of discomfort. Before long, his hips meet yours, filling you absolutely full to the brim in a way no one ever had before.
He plants both hands on either side of your head, abandoning your clit in favor of simply rutting his hips against yours. His large body hovers over you, shielding you from anything outside of him and you find yourself completely lost in everything that is him – how full he makes you feel, how nice he smells, how safe you feel trapped beneath him like you are.
Your hands wind around his neck, pulling him down so his chest presses against yours. Your breasts squish against his chest and he finds his eyes flickering down just to look at them. The sight makes you smile despite yourself – it’s cute, you think.
Tangling your fingers in his soft curls once again, you bring him down for a kiss. He’s still slowly, carefully rutting his hips against yours, his lower abdomen sliding against your clit as his cock stirs inside you, stretching you and hitting every sweet little spot inside you.
You whimper into his mouth, gasping at the way he makes you feel so full and good while he barely does anything. Your knees bracket against his ribs, squeezing him so tightly you wonder if it hurts but he just continues to kiss you and circle his hips.
“Wanna feel you cum around me,” he whispers, barely parting from your lips to request it, “Just like this, cover my cock. Be good for me.”
You knew you wouldn’t be able to disobey even if you wanted to. With the way he stirs you up and drags against every tender spot inside you all while grinding against your clit the way he is, you don’t stand a chance. Your third orgasm creeps up on you and your back arches just as it washes over you.
Simon groans at the feeling of you cumming around him for the first time – the tight, wet clutch of your cunt feeling better than he ever could have dreamed. As he watches you writhe in his bed, moaning and whimpering his name, he’s overcome with a plethora of feelings that just melt his heart.
He can’t resist pulling you in for another kiss, cupping your jaw as he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock remains buried in your cunt. You’re still working on coming down from the orgasm he just gave you but he’s greedy – he wants to feel it again. He wants to fuck the orgasm out of you, make you ride it out and gush all over him.
He needs to show you how good he can be for you, hoping that this alone can get across just how much you mean to him. He’s never been the best with words, so he can only hope that this is enough for now.
Your hands press against his chest, aimlessly pushing at him from the overwhelming way he fucks you. You’re so sensitive, pushed into cumming more times than anyone had ever made you before. But he doesn’t show any signs of slowing or stopping. He’s a machine, built for stamina and he’s on a fucking mission now – to make you feel as good as he possibly can.
You’re attempting to push him away, to give your poor, overstimulated body a chance to come down. But he’s having none of it.
“Hands off, love,” he commands breathlessly. But you just stare up at him with dazed, teary eyes, panting and sweaty. He clicks his tongue, “You ignorin’ me, sweetheart?”
He grapples your wrists in his one hand, pulling yours away from his chest and pinning them above your head. He uses this new hold as leverage to really fuck you, pulling back and sinking back in as deep as he possibly can. His tip kisses your cervix, making your thighs tense up at the twinge of pain that comes with having him so deep.
But the pain mixes so addictively with the pleasure that you find yourself getting completely lost in the slow, deep rhythm that he sets. Every time he sinks balls deep, his hips slap against yours and he rubs up deliciously against your clit. The pleasure on your bud doesn’t last long before he’s pulling back again, never allowing you to fully build up to another delicious high.
Simon is lost in the way you whimper and whine. He can swear that he’s never heard anything as incredible as you being denied the pleasure he had been so generous with so far. He likes the desperate look in your eyes; it makes him feel amazing to know that you need him to make you feel good. He’s in charge of your pleasure in that moment and he finds himself relishing in that feeling of control over you.
You look so sweet beneath him, pinned and helpless with teary eyes looking up at him. Your pupils are blown wide from the pleasure his cock brings you as he continues to fuck you nice and deep.
Usually, Simon is a fast and rough kind of guy, but he finds himself thinking that he could definitely get used to a pace like this more often. As long as it’s you that’s underneath him.
It doesn’t take you very long to break, those pretty tears falling down your cheeks as you breathlessly plead with him, “Please, Simon,” your voice cracks so cutely, “I want more!”
He chuckles under his breath and leans down, pressing a tender kiss against your temple before whispering, “What’s stoppin’ you from takin’ more?”
That seems to set you off. You’re bracing your feet on the bed, rutting your hips, rocking yourself against his cock. A moan rips from his chest at the sight of you using his cock like that. His heavy balls press against you and the feeling makes his cock throb, making him realize how badly he needs to cum. But he doesn’t want to give up this little show you’re putting on for him so soon.
You’re so, so wet that he can feel how your messy little cunt squishes around him. You shamelessly soak every inch of him the more you work your own pussy on his fat cock. You tug your hands free from his grip and he’s left clenching the pillows in his fist when he watches your fingers descend.
He thinks you’re going to go for your clit, to push yourself over the edge like you so deserved for being so good for him. But instead, you reach for your own tits. The breath punches out of his lungs as the sight of you meanly pinching and tweaking your nipples as you continue to rock yourself against him.
Simon feels his balls tighten at the sight and he almost thinks he’s going to cum but he suddenly pulls his cock out. You wail in complete misery at the loss, tearfully watching him wrap his hand around the base of his cock, pinching off the impending orgasm.
You flop back down onto the bed, sniffling pathetically as you glare at him for ruining the orgasm you were so beautifully working yourself up to. He smiles crookedly at you, cupping the backs of your knees, crudely pinning them to your chest so your pretty, wet cunt is open and vulnerable to the way he suddenly stuffs himself back inside.
With you completely pinned beneath him in a press, you can’t do anything except cry out and wail in pleasure as he finally fucks you fast and hard. His balls slap lewdly against your ass, your arousal dripping off of them.
His eyes are locked on the way you’re stretched so wide around the girth of him. You’re creaming around him, a milky ring left in your wake every time he pulls out. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe or collect yours, simply fucking you with everything he has. It’s loud, wet, and fucking messy.
“F-Fuck,” he chokes on the word, voice breaking as it comes out. He’s so close that it hurts, “Play with yourself for me, love, rub your clit.”
Your hand flies down to do as you’re told without a second thought. It only takes a few, quick circles around the hard little bud before you’re cumming with a cute little squeal. Your feet kick helplessly in the air, toes curling from how hard you cum around him.
Simon groans at the sight and feeling of you losing yourself on his cock. You continue to swirl and tap at your clit, forcing yourself to cum harder and harder until you’re squirting around him with a choked off sob of his name.
Simon’s hips never still or falter, fucking you fast and deep to work you through the orgasm. Your cum splatters across his hips, thighs, and chest. It makes his eyes roll up into his head before he lets his head fall back. His jaw opens and he moans, loud and deep as his own orgasm finally washes over him.
His pace falters as you lay there twitching and crying, a few trembling thrusts of his hips as his cock spits rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums longer and harder than he has in a very long time. He continues with short, aborted little thrusts on his sensitive cock as he continues to cum.
Even when the orgasm dissipates, he finds himself fucking into the creamy mess drooling out of your twitching cunt.
“S-Simon-!” you choke out, nails clawing down his shoulders, “S-Sensitive!”
“I know, love,” he pants, almost deliriously, “J-Just one more. G-Gotta fill you up again.”
You can’t do anything but lay back and let him use your cunt as he works to force another orgasm out of his overstimulated cock. He’s gasping and whining as he moves his hips, pulling his cock out only to stuff it back inside. A mixture of your cum and his drips down, soaking his cock, pelvis, and balls. It’s a heady, lewd mess that he can’t bring himself to worry about now but he knows it’ll be a pain to clean up later.
You’re trembling and twitching with every one of his movements, tears dried and new on your cheeks. He feels a pang of remorse for you, you’re tired and overstimulated but he just needs to wring this one last orgasm out and then he’ll let you rest.
“You can be good for me, huh?” he coos sweetly, “Just be sweet and let me, fuck, use this pretty little cunt, yeah?”
“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, nodding your head as your eyelids flutter in exhaustion.
Simon leans down, pressing his lips against yours. You both get lost in the kiss, with your arms wrapped around his neck. He loves how it feels to have you stuffed on his cock while your pretty, sweet body twitches and trembles beneath him. He knows it probably hurts by now and the fact you’re just laying there and letting him use you like this has him reaching his second high.
He chokes on a moan, gasping as he cums for the final time. It’s much more lackluster than his first one but he still fills you up just like you both needed. His cock twitches almost painfully inside you as he slowly rocks his hips, wincing at the overstimulation.
After a few, still moments, he pulls his length free from the soft plushness of your cunt and rolls off of you. You’re both panting, laying on your backs on the bed as you come back to yourselves.
You’re the first one to move, rolling onto your side and wrapping yourself around him. Simon finds himself smiling when he feels the sweet way you snuggle against him, seeking his comfort automatically.
You start shivering, the mess of cum and sweat on your body causing you to become cold. He urges you to sit up despite your protests.
“Let’s take a shower and sleep,” he offers sweetly, supporting your shaky body to the bathroom.
He continues to support you and hold you close through the shower. He finds himself grateful that there’s still hot water because you both certainly need it after such a messy tryst in his bed.
You’re the first to fall asleep, tucked against his chest with your arms wrapped around him like a little koala. His hand strokes up and down your back, just staring into the inky blackness of his bedroom.
Part of him feels like it’s all a dream, to have someone so sweet tucked against him, offering him comfort and feeling safe as they snooze peacefully. A sense of fierce protectiveness washes over him as he finds himself going through plans in his head – what the future may hold.
He’s torn from his thoughts when you shoot up from your deep sleep with a gasp. Your head wildly turns, looking around the room. His hand finds purchase on your back, making you jump before relaxing immediately in recognition.
“Bad dream?” he asks, tugging you gently to lay you back down against his chest.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “I dreamt that I was trapped with them in that hallway again.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around you to make sure you feel secure. You go still for a long time and he thinks you fell asleep again but then you ask him a question that surprises him.
“Who are those people in the photos?” you quietly question, “In your living room.”
He hums, rubbing a rough hand up and down your shoulder and arm, “My teammates. Friends, I guess.”
“You guess?” you chuckle.
“Yeah,” he breathes, “Task Force 141; Captain John Price, and Seargets John ‘Soap’ MacTavish and Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick.”
“Soap is a silly name,” you comment, grinning up at him, resting your chin against his chest, “What about you?”
“Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley,” he responds with ease.
“Do you know where they are?” you ask.
It’s an innocent question but it sends a pang of hurt to his chest. If he were a weaker, less trained man, he may have felt tears pricking his eyes, “I don’t know,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “I was in contact with Soap when everything started goin’ to shit. Lost contact with him though. He’s a tough bastard though, I’m sure he’s fine somewhere out there. I don’t know where the other two were or are.”
“If they’re even half as good as you, I’m sure they’re all fine,” you offer optimistically.
Simon hums again, reaching a hand up to brush a stray flyaway off of your forehead. His big hand cups your cheek, stroking his thumb over your lips which you offer a gentle kiss against.
“All I’m worried about now is you,” he confesses softly, “As long as you’re safe, I’ll be happy. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re okay.”
“I am,” you smile, laying back down to nuzzle against his chest, “I’m okay as long as you’re here.”
He wraps his arms around you again and closes his eyes, letting himself sleep peacefully with you held safe against him.
It’s not even a week later that you’re sitting on the couch with him, peacefully watching a movie with a full belly after cooking a quick dinner with him, that you hear a loud, mechanical thump and you’re plunged into complete silence and darkness. Your heart jumps and races in your chest, mindlessly grappling onto Simon’s arm as he sits still beside you.
“What happened?” you ask, whispering as if you’re scared to speak any louder.
“Power went out,” he responds, not sounding the least bit perturbed, “Knew it was comin’. Water’s probably out now too.”
“What do we do?” you ask, the tremor of fear in your voice practically breaking his heart.
He stands up and you whimper in fear when he’s out of your reach. You can hear him moving around in the dark before a bright, blinding light lands on you.
“We can’t stay here for much longer,” he responds, “We’ll have to move out and find somewhere with more resources.”
“How long have you been planning this?” you ask, getting to your feet to follow him down the hall to the bedroom.
“Ever since the news stopped reportin’,” he responds, grabbing a large backpack from the closet, “Let’s pack up.”
You linger beside him and he looks at you with a raised brow, “I’m scared, Simon.”
His gaze softens and he walks up to you, cupping your cheeks tenderly, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, “We’re goin’ to go out, find a small place to hunker down. We’ll look for a generator or a vehicle and get somewhere safe. You trust me, don’t you?”
You nod your head, “Of course I do.”
“Good,” he smiles, kissing your forehead, “Now take this backpack and fill it with what’s left of our canned food, alright? I’m goin’ to pack everything else we need, don’t worry about a thing.”
He offers you a flashlight, which you gratefully take and click on. You’re glad that he gives you an easy task to focus on. You take the smaller backpack he offers you and make your way to the kitchen. You only have about 5 cans of food left and you carefully place them inside the bag before opening the refrigerator to pack a few full bottles of water that you have stored in there. You make sure to toss in a can opener just in case before you place the backpack on the couch.
Simon emerges from the room with the large, military backpack slung over his shoulder.
“You get it all?” he asks, taking a seat to shove his boots onto his feet.
“Yeah and a couple water bottles,” you respond, approaching him slowly.
“That’s perfect,” he praises, looking over at you, “You should go get dressed. Jeans and a hoodie. Put your sneakers on and make sure they’re tight, got it?”
You nervously do as you’re told, disappearing into the bedroom to quickly dress yourself under the flashlight. You can hear Simon moving around in the living room, heavy boots thumping against the floor with every step he takes.
You toss the hoodie over your head and make your way back to Simon, who stands in the living room, looking out the window. The sun is just beginning to come up over the horizon, casting a dim amount of sunlight to come through.
He turns to look at you when he hears you approach.
“There you go,” he hums, pulling the hoodie up over your head and tightening the strings, “Keep your neck covered. We’ll find you some better clothing somewhere along the way.”
You nod your head and take a glance over his shoulder out the window. You can barely see the ground from your position but you can see people shuffling around on the streets below. A pang of fear goes through you as you realize that they’re most definitely not normal people – the streets are crawling with those undead freaks.
Simon leads you to the door and unsheaths a weapon for you – a machete he had taught you to wield with relative ease. You grip it in your hands, nervously twirling it around until you find a comfortable position. Simon nods his head and pulls out a combat knife, holding it low at his side before opening the door.
The descent to the lobby is relatively easy, you walk over the undead that have already been taken care of in the stairwell.
“I took care of these already,” he explains without you even having to ask, helping you jump over a pile of 3 zombies at the foot of the stairs.
“You got more kills under your belt than me,” you comment, mostly in jest to lighten your mood.
Simon huffs under his breath, slowly pushing open the door to the lobby, “You have no idea.”
You squint and turn off your flashlight when you step into the well lit lobby. The sun is now above the horizon, allowing you to see with ease once again.
Simon remains in front of you, making your way to the double front doors. You peek around him, heart racing in your chest as your grip on your weapon tightens.
“Are you ready?” he asks, casting a glance over his shoulder.
“No…” you confess, shuffling closer to him.
“Everything will be okay,” he promises firmly and you actually believe him.
When he pushes open the door, the groans of the undead fill your ears and you find your eyes darting frantically around the streets that you can now see with terrifying clarity.
Hundreds of undead swarm the streets, stumbling and groaning as they shuffle around aimlessly in search of food. Simon reaches down and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You know it’s going to be the fight of your life but with Simon by your side, you have faith that you’re going to make it through and find somewhere safe together.
property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.
#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost smut#ghost x reader#cod smut#cod x reader
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Wanting You || conrad fisher x fem!reader
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summary: you get a call and it happens to be your drunk boyfriend just wanting your love and attention
pairing: conrad fisher x reader
warnings: stressed conrad and mostly just fluff
wc: 800 (i think)
put some drunk conrad in to help with the storyline!! not majority edited just wanted to get this out
It was supposed to be a boy's night. To drink and talk about sports or just hang out in general. But here conrad was, looking at your pictures on his phone showing the guys around him. Even if they were at a party where there were over 100 people, you were still the first thing on his mind.
“she’s just so pretty guys,” he told steven and jeremiah who were sipping on beers
“oh we know, for how much you talk about her.” jere muttered over his drink
“man, as much as i love how you’re in love with my sister, but please spare all details.” steven rolled his eyes
“she’s just so sweet, she’s helped me with so much. like that one time she snuck me into your house because i missed her and my roommate was having sex,” he admitted
“oh god! you snuck into our house. if laurel ever hears this you’re dead meat.” steven leaned forward
“relax steve, i’ll have you know your mom likes me too much.” conrad took a sip of his beer when he should have stopped drinking for a while now “i miss her.”
“he’s so whipped.” jere laughed watching his brother be lovesick for you
“do you think she will answer if i call her?” his eyes lit up
“she’s probably sleeping.” steven looked over his shoulder to the crowd of people spotting taylor dancing with some of the volleyball girls
“just make your move already.” jeremiah pointed out
“you know belly would absolutely murder me if i touched her best friend.” steven sighed and looked away
“hey! look at me man.” conrad put a hand on his shoulder “you haven’t murdered me yet.” he smiled
“that’s because i’m building up to it.” conrad shook his head
“i’m gonna call her, i miss her.”
“dude-“ it was too late he already clicked your contact.
Meanwhile, you were on your bed watching netflix and having a self-care night. With conrad with the guys, you felt like he needed to get out of the apartment they all shared because all they did was play video games and sleep. Your phone rang on the comforter causing you to jump not expecting any calls. You turned the phone seeing conrad’s name on the screen.
“hey.” you paused your show leaning back on the pillows
“hi baby.” he slurred. this wasn’t the first time occurrence he’s called you drunk, you soon found out he was clingy and wanted your attention when drunk
“hey you, how’s the boy's night?” he sighed on the other side of the phone
“it’s good, it’s good. i wanted to call and say i miss you, like a lot.”
“you just saw me yesterday dummy.” you laughed into the phone
“i just really love you.” your heart fluttered as he said the words, you don’t usually say it because it meant a lot to the both of you with what happened to your parents
“can you do me a favor baby?” he hummed on the other side “can i talk to my brother really quick?”
“yeah! here, steven she wants to talk to you.” you heard him hand the phone over
“hey sis.”
“hey can i come get him? i think he’s had enough and i know he’s gonna want me to come get him soon enough.”
“oh yeah please,”
“thank you for taking him out tonight, i know he’s stressed with everything with adam and everything.”
“no yeah i understand, see you soon.” the phone was pulled away from him and back in the hands of your boyfriend
“hey lover.” he chuckled “i’m gonna a come get you okay?”
“yeah, thats sounds good.” you knew after a while he would start overthinking and then the stress would come back
“just stay with the guys and no more drinking, okay?”
“okay, see you soon baby.” you both hung up and you got out of bed
The drive over to the house was over 20 minutes. But you didn’t mind you wanted to see conrad. There has been a lot of stuff going on recently with his dad. you knew their relationship wasn’t the greatest and it really got to him sometimes.
You parked the car in search of your boyfriend. Steven texted you saying they were in the backyard in some chairs, and you saw the back of your boyfriend's head as he talked to the boys in front of him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulder and leaned your head down on his shoulder.
“i have a girlfriend!” his head snapped and he relaxed seeing it was you “oh. sorry.”
“that’s okay, you ready to go?” he nodded “you boys have a ride back?” you looked towards jere and steven
“yeah, taylor said she would take us.” you smiled at steven “when are you gonna ask her out?” conrad moved his arms to rub against yours that were draped over him
“chill, i just don’t wanna upset belly.”
“for fucks sake i’m dating your best friend and you didn’t beat me up.”
“told you.” conrad muttered
“this is different.” he sighed rubbing his face
“it’s not really.” conrad moved to lay his head on your arm giving you the signal it was time to go “just do something at least, con and i are gonna head out.” you pulled your hands away and the man stood from his seat “ready.” he nodded taking your hand in his “be safe tonight, call me if you need anything.”
As you drove home, conrad kept a hand on your thigh but he didn’t say anything and you knew the quietness and depression were slowly coming back from the side effects of his drinking. The whole ride was quiet up until you made it into your room closing the door facing him.
“come here con.” he walked towards you slowly and dipped his head into to crook of your neck and wrapped his arms around you “let’s sleep okay?” he nodded but didn’t let go “con?”
“hm?”
“let’s lay down handsome.” he stepped away from you and you helped him take off his shirt as he slipped out of his jeans left in his boxers and slid into bed “ill be right back, going to get you water.”
“okay.” he softly spoke into the pillow he was laying on
Walking downstairs your mom was also grabbing a midnight snack. She knew he would come over and she also knew he was going through a lot in your 2 years together.
“how is he?” she leaned against the counter as you opened the fridge to grab a water bottle
“it’s a lot, he won’t really talk to me about some of it and i understand.”
“you’re a great girlfriend for him. susannah always loved the thought of you two together.” she grabbed your hand and squeezed it “speaking of conrad.” she nodded behind you, turning around you saw your boyfriend standing at the end of the stairs
“hey, what’s wrong?” you walked towards him
“you left me for a long time.” he rubbed his eyes and you smiled
“come on you big baby, good night mom.”
“night laurel.” conrad muttered
“night kids.” you could hear the humor in her voice
Back up in your room you were both now in bed with the light of the tv shining on the both of you. Conrad’s eyes drifted but he just stared at you.
“can i cuddle you?” he asked softly
“you don’t need to ask.” he moved closer to you hugging you to him, his head on your shoulder and you moved your hand to run though his hair “con?”
“yeah?” you moved to look at him and leaned down to kiss him for the first time that night
“i love you.” he smiled genuinely the first time since you saw him
“i love you.” he closed his eyes and kissed your neck
Soon enough his soft snoring filled the room as you continued to watch your show until you followed him into the dream state.
#the summer i turned pretty#conrad fisher#tsitp#prime video#conrad fisher x fem!reader#the summer i turned pretty season 2#conrad fisher one shot#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher x you#conrad x reader#conrad fisher x reader#conrad fisher fluff#conrad fisher x y/n#conrad fisher smut
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A Scarab Knows Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle) x reader
Summary: Times when the scarab on your boyfriends back caught you in a lie.
Warnings: Smut, angst, insecure!reader, talks of period, 18+
Moodboard credit goes to @your-yandere-kiss They’ve got so many other great moodboards. I’d definitely recommend you check them out if you like that sort of thing.
DC Masterlist
It took a while to get used to the scarab. Khaji Da was not what you were expecting Jaime to reveal after a couple of months of dating. Your boyfriend was so nervous as he explained the ancient alien that held the power of the blue beetle that had bonded to his back. At first you had no response. Then you wanted to see it to which Jaime happily obliged.
Your eyes found the shiny blue shell of the beetle in line with Jamie’s shoulder blades. Call it morbid curiosity that lead you to reaching out and gently tracing part of the scarab. When red eyes opened and glowed along the scarabs elytra in response you jumped back in surprise. The action causing Jaime to jump up and away from you.
He didn’t say anything, instead staring almost blankly at something behind you. An action you’d found him doing throughout your relationship. Only now did you realise it was because of Khaji Da.
Finally he spoke, “I think it likes you.”
From then on things got better with Jamie. There were no secrets between the two of you anymore and you could continue your relationship in peace. Well almost in peace. The scarab on his back was to blame for that.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like Khaji Da, it’s just that it was almost like another person you had to share your boyfriend with. A person that was with him all the time. A person that he has secret talks with. A person that he fought crime with.
You weren’t jealous. Jaime was yours and Khaji Da had no interest in him like that. It was just hard getting used to being in a relationship with Jaime and now Khaji Da. After telling you about his scarab Jaime could talk to it more openly, without you thinking he was strange. Sometimes you’d be with Jaime watching a movie and he’d answer a question you hadn’t asked. Or other times you’d be looking for something you’d lost and he’d blurt out it’s location, claiming Khaji Da had told him.
Khaji Da wasn’t all bad, in fact it treated you kindly and as a valued person to Jaime. Over time it too became protective like Jaime towards you. A gesture you found sweet. Well mostly sweet.
One evening you saw the positives to the scarab on your boyfriends back.
The day you’d had was one for the history books. Anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. This morning you overslept for class meaning you had to rush out the door. In class you realised you left your paper you’d been working on at your home. After class you went to your job at a local restaurant. A job that on a good day would wear you down and drain your social skills. But on a bad day? It was unimaginable. To add to it you started your period mid shift, unprepared of course.
Finally at the end of the day you remembered the plans you had to stay over at your boyfriends apartment. Despite feeling anything but happy, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed your tears back as you greeted him. You hugged him tightly and kept up your facade. Engaging in small talk about your day and your class. Purposely leaving out or brushing over the majority of bad bits.
Jaime was buying the facade of course and you couldn’t blame him. The two of you hadn’t been dating for long and he hadn’t learnt you yet. However Khaji Da had, or to some extent it had.
A quick body scan had revealed your true feelings. Your low mood, recently working tear ducts and uterus walls cramping. All of which was relayed to Jaime whose face quickly took to looking crestfallen.
“Mi Vida, why would you lie to me?” Jaime asks softly. Pulling you from beside him on the couch to his lap.
You look at him startled. Unable to form words or even think of a coherent answer. But he waits for one. Even though it takes a few beats of silence.
“What - how do you know?” You ask him perplexed.
His tongue swipes out over his lips, “Khaji Da scans almost everyone I meet. It makes a habit of scanning you especially.”
You nod slowly, letting the new information sink in. You wonder just how much Khaji Da knows about you. You wonder how much information it passed on to Jaime each time you met. Was this the first time it caught you out in a lie, or just the first time Jaime chose to bring it up.
“I didn’t want to burden you with my bad day Jaime. You seemed so happy. I just wanted to enjoy being with you today.”
Jaime sighed and held you impossibly closer. Rubbing your back as you let out a few tears.
“Nothing you tell me would burden me. I love you so much Cielo.” Jaime whispers in your ear.
“Cielo?” You ask, unsure of the endearment.
“It means sky or heaven. That’s what you are to me. Nothing my Cielo tells me burdens me. You are my world, Mi Vida.”
Although Khaji Da’s interference worked out this time, it didn’t always. One time in particular didn’t end well with Jaime.
It was just past nine when your eyes glanced over to the clock on the bedside lamp. Jaime had been pounding into you for what felt like hours. He’d been out all evening doing something for Kord industries. The topic a sore one as you knew of the previous feelings he felt for Jenny.
You tried to put your feelings aside and remember that Jaime was with you now, not her. Your efforts hadn’t been good enough as Khaji Da and Jaime had seen right through it. Leaving him no choice but to show you just how much he loved you.
Yet the hurried passion between you hadn’t given you the stimulation you needed to reach your climax even once. There was little foreplay and things unraveled and quickly lead to him being deep inside you.
At one point you’d moved your fingers to your clit, trying to gain something to take you over the edge. Jaime, thinking you were acting up as you often did with him (in dynamic of course) removed your hand and pinned it with your other above your head. He gave you a gentle kiss and whispered some dirty words in your ear.
“Are you close?” He panted, still hammering into you. You thought about saying no, then wondered what he would think. You started to feel insecure in the fact that your orgasm was taking so long. So you decided to pretend.
It wasn’t something you’d ever had to do before but once wouldn’t hurt, would it?
You moaned out a reply and started your act. Rolling your eyes back into your skull, praising your partner for his work, clenching your walls on his cock. It wasn’t long before he followed you. Stilling inside you before reaching his own.
After pulling out slowly and kissing your temple he rolled over, having a moment before getting a wash cloth for you.
Silence hung in the air. Comfortable silence of course, but silence non the less. Jamie’s hand found yours, holding it gently as he often did.
Some time passed before his grip changed and became tighter. He turned on his side and looked at you accusingly.
“You faked it?” He asked, a little hurt but mostly angry.
Your eyes widened and you could feel your face heating up. “Jaime it’s not like that, you know I wouldn’t - ”
“But you did, or else Khaji Da wouldn’t have brought it up.”
You let out a huff, “Why does it matter. I’m sure it happens to plenty of couples all the time. I’m fine. Your fine. Let’s just go to bed.”
You move to roll over only to be pulled back by an angry Jaime. You’d never seen him this annoyed before about something you’d done. Usually you couldn’t put a foot wrong with him. He thought everything about you was great. It would be a lie to say his anger didn’t make you guilty about being dishonest.
“It matters because your my girlfriend. We aren’t just another couple. And while I’ve got working fingers, a working tongue and a working cock I have no excuse not to make you cum.” He tells you in earnest, putting his anger aside for a minute.
Although the sentiment is there, his wording isn’t. Jamie’s right, everything about him works. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to make you cum. It’s you that’s the problem and that same insecurity creeps back in once more. Making you doubt if there was something wrong with you. Making you remember why you lied in the first place. You didn’t want him to think less of you.
“So why Mi Vida, why lie to me? You know I love you.”
You huff again but this time it’s more pitiful as you feel your throat tightening. “It’s not you Jaime, it was me. It just wasn’t happening. I don’t know if I needed more foreplay or something. Maybe it’s just me, maybe there’s something wrong. Please let’s just go to sleep.” You practically beg. The warmth in your face ever increasing from the embarrassment you now feel.
As he understands your words he feels his anger dissipate. “There is nothing wrong with you Cielo, I should have done more before you know, going inside you. It was rushed. But you need to know that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I love making you cum.”
You smile, leaning over to kiss Jaime. Who responded eagerly almost trying to make up for lost time. Showing you that there was nothing wrong with you at all.
“Let me show you how much I love doing it Mi Vida.”
You could only nod as your boyfriend spent the rest of the night doing everything he could to make you cum.
By the time he’d done you’d finished a record number of times and had forgotten any ill will you’d felt towards Khaji Da. It turned out to be quite useful.
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I need to be perfect
Hi. So I kinda don't like this, but I kinda do at the same time, and I wasn't quite sure how to end it. It was also a really good request so I might use the prompt again in another way. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.
Barca Femeni x Reader ; Alexia Putellas x Reader (Platonic)
Description: R needs to be perfect and doesn't know how to stop.
Word Count: 2.4k
“When I say ‘jump’, you say ‘how high, coach?’ Got it?” The overweight, middle-aged man with an awful comb-over had shouted to you when you were just 9 years old. His methods were basically abuse, but he produced superstars. And that is what you were going to be. A superstar. It didn’t help that you already had perfectionist tendencies, and your parents were pushy – always expecting brilliance. No, not even brilliance. The best, you had to be the best. Perfect. Flawless. Faultless. Textbook. There was no other choice.
It was no surprise that Barca had come knocking when you were barely 16. You had mixed emotions: elation that Barcelona wanted you, happiness that you could leave the cruel atmosphere you lived in, fear that you weren’t as good as they may have thought, and nervousness that you needed the horrendous conditions to thrive.
Again. More. That wasn’t good enough. You’re not trying. You need to be better. Again. Again. Again.
You had seen the media asking how Barcelona could have signed a 16-year-old rising young talent from a lower league club. The world expected you to be great, Barca expected you to be great, and your parents expected you to be great.
But you didn’t feel great. Not at first. You had turned up to pre-season and noticed how far behind you were from your teammates. You hadn’t considered that it was because they were almost double your age and had been at the club or other high-level ones for years. You were struggling slightly to get the drills – Catalan was the preferred language, and you were still barely competent in Spanish. When the season started, you weren’t used as a sub very much, making your debut in November about 85 minutes into the match. You didn’t get your first start of the season until February. You had gone from being the best in the team at your old club to being a mere blip on the team sheet.
You are useless. You can’t even make it as a sub? You are a waste of time and money. All the effort we spent on you.
Your parents weren’t helping the situation. You already had the voice in your head telling you you weren’t good enough, and the constant barrage of texts, voicemails, and phone calls after another match where you weren’t used was starting to get to you.
So, you started to push yourself. After a season of being on the sidelines too much, you knew you needed to start working harder. You didn’t realise that Jonatan had been hoping to use this first year to let you get accustomed to Spain, the style of play and build your fitness. At first, it was nothing major. You stayed late a few days a week to work on drills, set pieces and technical skills. But then it was staying late every day you had training. And then coming in early. And then you began to run to training, leaving your bags in the locker room overnight for you to go and get changed. And then you began to run back from training, too. And then you added extra at-home workouts (nothing too crazy in the beginning; mainly yoga that turned into Pilates, which turned into an additional 2 hours of bodyweight exercises). For some strange reason, you had been allowed to live by yourself. You think that it was because so many of the girls lived nearby. Ingrid and Mapi lived in the same building as you. Lucy lived on the same road as you, as did Keira, Ona and Aitana. Alexia lived less than a ten-minute walk away, and you were within easy driving distance of everyone else. But because you lived alone, no one noticed how much you were putting your body through, even on your days off and mid-season breaks.
But the hard work was paying off. You started the next season well; pre-season had gone fantastically, and your name appeared on the Starting XI for the first match of the season. It stayed there throughout the year. You had also broken into a constant starter for your national team.
Again. Again. Again. Be better. Do better. Worthless. Poor. Again. Again
You couldn’t see a problem with it. You were fast, strong, technical, good, and great. You were going on two years at Barca, thriving, and playing your best football. You were barely 18, yet you had already been nominated for the Ballon d’Or. Everything was brilliant football-wise. You had to keep going. You couldn’t stop.
Do better. Awful. Again. Be better. Shocking. Rubbish. Useless. Horrible. Again
It was your day off after an intense few weeks when the truth came crashing to the ground. The Champions League had started up again, and a series of away games took place in a short space of time. It was hard with long days away from the comfort of your own home, and your daily routine was not helping the situation. Everyone could tell you weren’t ok – but they assumed it was from the travel. Lucy had picked up a cold or something, Keira was tired, Aitana and Pina were a little achy, and Alexia and Frido were more vigilant over the needs of their bodies. Everyone was exhausted. But you had to keep going. You couldn’t stop.
In your constant pressure to improve, you failed to notice Alexia’s troubled stares, Marta’s questioning looks, Patri’s concerned glances, and Irene’s worried gazes. They knew how hard you pushed yourself … almost. They knew you stayed every day after training, and they were a little concerned. But they didn’t know the extent of it. Not in the slightest.
It was El Clasico. Real Madrid vs Barcelona. A historic rivalry. You wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep until May, but that wasn’t an option. Everything was fine. You were on the score sheet, winning and playing great football. And then Athenea slid in for a tackle, catching you on your ankle in precisely the wrong spot. You tried (successfully) not to cry, but you couldn’t help the pained gasp that escaped your mouth. Alexia had been by your side instantly, ushering the medics over and holding you in place with her Captain’s stare.
“It’s your ankle, sí?” Alexia knew it was a matter of time before an injury came for you. If only she had stepped in sooner and helped you from overworking yourself. She helped you to your feet and walked you to the dugout.
“What? No! Ale, I’m fine. See,” You stood on your sore foot to prove your point. It hurt like nothing else you’d experienced, but it was fine; you just needed to walk it off.
“No, you sit the rest of this game out, get re-assessed back home and then we see if you can play.” She said with a note of finality as you huffed, turning around and walking off before you could comment.
Terrible. Awful. Be better. Dreadful. Terrible. Hopeless. Incompetent.
You knew it was silly. Your ankle was not ok, but you needed to train. It had been 2 days since El Clasico, and you were forced not to train yesterday, but it had been a travel day, so there wasn’t much you could do. It would be fine; you had trained on injuries before. You had waited until you knew the team would be out on the pitch as you snuck into the gym. Your ankle was heavily taped, but that was fine. You could put some pressure on it – that was all you needed.
You were determined to get at least a little run in. Just a gentle jog, really, barely above walking. Just a quick 5km. Nothing too crazy. You couldn’t afford to stop training, not after everything you have worked for. With your face in a determined expression and the idiocy of a terrified teenager, you got to work. You started on the bike. The movement was a little painful, but it raised your heart rate and got blood flowing. As you moved across the equipment, the door to the gym flew open.
“Qué crees que estás haciendo?” Alexia roared, making you jump out of your skin. Your first thought was that you hadn’t spent enough time on the bike, that she was angry at you for not working hard enough. For stopping. For taking a breather. “You are injured! Why the fuck are you not resting?” Alexia stormed over to you – she seemed angry. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her eyes were dark and stormy, and her mouth was a hard line. She was angry at you. Why was she telling you to rest? Rest? You couldn’t rest. You had to be better. Keep working harder. Push yourself to be the best.
“I …” You couldn’t answer her, you couldn’t make her angrier. You couldn’t disappoint her. “I’m sorry. I just needed some water. I’m starting again in a minute.” You rushed to get your explanation to her. She needed to know you weren’t stopping. You were just moving to a different exercise. You weren’t slacking.
“Again? What have you done already?” She wasn’t calming down. If anything, you were making her angry. With the lack of sleep, the mental exhaustion, the injury, it was becoming too much for you. Tears clouded your vision, Alexia becoming foggy as you tried to stop the emotions from bubbling up.
“I was just moving from the bike. I’ll start running now. I’m sorry. I’m not stopping, I promise.” You were a mess as you moved to start the treadmill.
Alexia stopped to look at you. Really, look at you. Your tired eyes, your dark circles and your sickly skin. The fatigue was evident in the way you stood; your body seemed too heavy for you to hold up. You also looked terrified. She couldn’t work out why, though. Yes, she was angry. A trainer had come into the medical room wondering who had cleared you for exercise. Alexia knew no one had done so; they had told her after the match that it would be 2 weeks or so before you could rejoin training at any level (after the string of injuries, the medical staff were also over-cautious in their assessments of minor injuries). So, she knew you were doing this against their advice. And that made her mad; it was one thing to push yourself in training despite coaches telling you not to overdo it but another to actively go against medical advice. But looking at you, she knew you hadn't asked for medical clearance. You were just a scared little girl.
“No, Chiquita. No, running.” Alexia was a lot calmer now, seeing your lip wobble and your eyes blink rapidly—clearly holding back tears.
“I have to. I can’t stop. I need to be better.” You whispered, ashamed of your perceived weaknesses.
“Cariño,” she cooed, reaching out to you. You flinched, not used to kind touches. Any touches you had received from coaches or captains were ones that would push you into running more, doing more drills, and practicing more set pieces. “Pequeña. You’re injured. You need to rest, mi amor.”
“I can’t rest. I need to train. I need to be better, do better.”
“No, Chiquita. You don’t. You need rest; you need to get well again.” Alexia stepped forward. She could see the war raging in your head – the desire to stop but the need to keep going. “Cariño?” Her kindness made you break. You launched yourself at her, arms wrapping around her neck as you cried into her. “Oh, amor. You’re ok. Está bien. Todo está bien. Prometo. Usted puede parar.” You sobbed into her shoulder, tears dampening her shirt as you howled. Everything was too much. You hurt, you needed to sleep, you wanted to stop, and yet you couldn’t. The voice in your head told you to keep going. Your parents and old coaches told you you weren’t allowed to stop. It was far, far, far too much for you.
“Neña, deep breaths. In … and out … vamos … in … and out.” Alexia instructed as you were becoming hysterical. She made her breaths exaggerated, slow and obvious, helping you to match hers. “Bien hecho, pequeña,” she pressed gentle kisses to your head as she eventually slowed down. “Y/N, I am not angry at you; no one is. But I need to know why you are in here and not at home resting.” Alexia implored, her hazel eyes looking directly at yours.
“I can’t stop,” you said meekly, slightly ashamed of your outburst.
“No entiendo. You can’t stop what?” She spoke slowly, like you would to a child or a scared animal.
“I can’t stop training. I need to be better. I need to do more,” you said, getting agitated—at her lack of understanding or at yourself. You weren’t quite sure.
“Amor, why do you need to be better?” Alexia was truly at a loss. You were so talented; you didn’t need to be better.
“Because everyone says so. They say so.” You looked so fragile and nervous, eyes darting around the room, your fingers twisting around each other.
“Who is ‘they’?”
“My parents … my old coaches.”
“Chiquita, listen to me. You do not need to be better. You are more than enough. You are so, so talented. You work so hard. But pushing yourself will not be good for you, the team, or anyone else. You need to rest, slow down, and allow your body to heal.”
With Alexia’s kind questioning, she soon got to the bottom of everything. You had told her about the harshness you had experienced from a young age, the disappointment and anger your parents had expressed during your first season at Barcelona, and the voice in your head telling you to keep pushing. She knew you had a way to go, but with gentle reminders and constant check-ins, you learnt how to quieten the voices. Training became easier, your home was no longer a place to get more workouts in, and you finally stopped listening to the devils in your life and started paying attention to the angels.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And that was all they could hope for.
I hope you enjoyed it. It was kinda short and I don't know if I really like the ending but yeh.
#barca femeni#barca femeni x reader#fc barcelona#woso blurbs#woso community#woso imagine#woso x reader#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#woso fanfics#woso fluff#woso oneshot#woso#womens football#woso angst
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the beast’s beauty
fushiguro toji x f!reader
description: because of your father's mistake, the infamous toji zenin forced you into imprisonment in order to pay his debt. however, what you never expected was to fall in love with the monster he was.
genre: angst, historical au, 18+, mini series
warnings/tags: explicit smut(vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, ) violence, mentions of stockholm syndrome & misogyny, blackmail, character injury, blood, profanity, mdni, grammar mistakes
a/n: to welcome our fav dilf to the jjk screen, here's a little beauty and the best retelling for toji:) reblogs are truly appreciated <3 (taglist: open) (wc:1k)
general masterlist
part one ♕ part two ♕ part three ♕ part four ♕ part five
You never enjoyed the company your father kept. Drunks, assassins, mobsters, gamblers. You would always find yourself pulling him out of taverns in the early hours of 2 to 4 am. Usually, fear would course through women’s veins if they had to enter an establishment of this kind however, that wasn't your case. You were predisposed to bars, and whore houses since you were 10.
Now here, age 22 as you make your way through the liveliest bar in town. The air stank of beer and fresh cigarettes; a smell that you've grown more than used to. Your upbringing was merited to being the only daughter of a single father. Your mother died in childbirth and your father never chose to remarry. When you were younger you thought of it as romantic, but as time went on you saw it for what it really was.
He gained a free pass to hoard whores. Your house doors welcomed a new woman every week. The most motherly advice you gained was how to seduce a man and how to keep your tits perky.
The bar was more full than it usually was. Sweaty bodies stood, all facing the same direction. A poker game was at play. By the looks of the chips stacked in the center, it looked rather intense. Your feet began to move faster as a small anxious feeling nipped at your stomach. Shoving arms and legs, you squeeze into the front of the table.
Two men were sitting at opposite ends of the table. The left side of the table was far more crowded than the right. Women were draped over the man who was seated. A hand covered the majority of his face so all that was in view were his eyes. Dark green eyes shined brightly, even though the mess of dark hair was in front of it.
‘He looked focused’ you thought. He stared ahead, not giving any attention to the women around him. You could see why they were all interested in him. Physically, he was very attractive. His legs were spread out under the table, arms crossed and sat straight. His shirt fit on his body like a glove. His shoulders, chest, and even the muscles on his torso were visible through the cloth.
Before you could notice anything a familiar voice caught your attention. At the other end of the table, you see a familiar ratted navy coat. With a far lonelier crowd, your father was squinting at the four cards in his palm.
“All in” he shouted as he pushed all his chips closer to the dark-haired man.
“Dad!” you jumped to him, clasping your hand on his wrist. As you opened your mouth to protest, a deep voice intercepted.
“Sorry, cap.” was all the man said as he displayed his cards. The faces and noise around you felt dull. Muffled voices and blurry vision were all you had as you watched your father’s cards get trumped by a royal flush.
“How much money did you bet, Dad?” The urgency in your voice was a cover for the panic. He had no money. Whatever money he did earn at his sales job was put towards the tavern and prostitutes. Whatever was left was the sum you had earned at the library.
“Sweet pea, I-I messed up,” there was a shake in your father's voice. One that you had never heard before. “It wasn’t money. Gu- I need to get”
You couldn't understand the slurred speech your father spewed.
“Gu? What are you saying, Dad?” you held your father steady near the back entrance of the building.
“Guns” your body jumped at the sound of another voice joining your conversation. You spun around to be faced with familiar eyes. They look much darker at night. The only thing illuminating the scene was a candle hanging beside the door in between you two.
“He didn’t bet money. Your father owes me guns.”
Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion.
He must be confused with someone else.
In an effort to clear your father's name you turn to him for reassurance, but all you are met with is disappointment.
“Mmm sorry. I sold the guns and I didn’t have anything else to give” Your father's voice fell flat.
“Dad, What are you talking about? Why do you have guns? What are you in?” your hands grasp his arms and shake his drunk body hoping to shake the truth out of him.”
“Your father works for my business. And he fucked up and sold my guns for bitch money.” the man said. His head tilted to the right, allowing for his face to be seen. The first thing you saw was a scar that ran through the right corner of his mouth. He was taller than you assumed he was. As he inched towards you his size grew.
“What do you want?” your voice dripped in fear.
“Well, your father here, he bet me something to act as a placeholder, till I get my guns.” he fished in his pockets as he spoke those chilling words. He retrieved a small syringe from his pocket.
Your worried eyes turned to your father but before you could protest, rough hands brushed your lips, pressing your mouth shut. You felt your skin break as a cool needle was stuck in your neck. Tears welled up in your eyes as your fear was confirmed.
You felt your own body turning into mush, your muscles stopped protesting the man's actions and started to skin into him. Your back hit his chest and your head rolled onto his shoulder. With what little power you had you flailed your limbs, but all of your efforts were met with failure.
You couldn't hear anymore, couldn't distinguish voices. Couldn't yell and scream at your father for pimping you like a whore to a beast. You didn't know whose voice it was but you were hoping their word was true, as those were the last words that you heard before you blacked out.
“I'll take care of you, I promise.”
[ jjk gen taglist: @meepmoop12w @thepsychicartist ]
#jjk series#jjk x reader#toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#jjk smut#jjk x y/n#toji angst#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro angst#jjk toji#fushiguro toji#jjk angst#jjk.rot
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Prompt from @help-i-need-a-cool-username
Jason has once again snuck into Gotham University. Now, before any assumptions are made onto why the crime lord would break into a college, the reason is because he likes the library. That's it. The public library is trashed and small, barely taken care of, but Gotham U's? It's beautiful. Multiple floors, organized and in sections, taken care of, alphabetical order, it's magnificent. The chairs were a reason alone to sneak in, but the students here added an extra charm.
He had gone to the very back of the library on the second floor. This area was pretty well hidden and enclosed. He would come here to read without anyone questioning him, even hiding the books he wasn’t finished with yet to continue on later. Jason wasn’t expecting someone to be so close to his spot though. A few tables across stood a student, thin, tall, with pitch black hair, baggy cargo jeans, and a white t-shirt. The other hadn’t noticed him yet, so he remained quiet and just watched. He was in front of a large white board on wheels, seemingly taken from the rooms he saw down the hall.
“That doesn’t work, goddammit.”
On the white board was lines upon lines of equations- at least he thought they were equations, with most of them being letters and symbols rather than numbers. It made the vigilante’s brain hurt. The student - assumed STEM major - just kept mumbling to himself.
“Stupid physics, won’t allow interdimensional travel”
What? Jason may have been out of school since 15, but he knew no courses were asking for the answer to traveling between dimensions. It seemed the student had a habit of talking to himself when worked up or focused, possibly why he isolated himself from the rest of the library.
“If your parents could do it, why can’t you? Think Danny, think!”
That sentence wasn’t concerning at all, but at least Jason learned the boy’s name. Danny seemed to have a strange background, what did he mean by ‘if your parents could do it’? Had his parents managed to travel between dimensions? The other was chewing on the cap of the white board marker, his other hand resting on his hip as he swayed back and forth.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! That! The thing! That thingy!”
Jason could practically see the lightbulb go on above Danny’s head. Just then the other erased a solid portion of the whiteboard and dropped to his knees, ouch. He started frantically scribbling, fast and messy, barely cohesive. Though, Jason was sure that if it was Tim sitting where he was instead, the boy could probably understand everything on that board. He’d stick to English literature, thank you very much.
“That’s it! Oh my ancients! I got it!”
Danny practically jumped in the air, punching the air in triumph. Jason almost felt proud of him, this complete stranger he’s been watching, wow he was being creepy, huh? Danny shot both of his arms straight up, the marker gripped tightly in his right hand fist.
“I did it!”
He looked so happy, so excited. He began to buzz, even spinning, before stopping mid loop and turning around slowly. Shit, Jason had been caught. To be fair, Danny hadn’t exactly turned around the whole time, meaning Jason was just watching his back the whole time as he worked through his… problem? It’s such a shame, Jason was thoroughly entertained by this random kid.
“Uhhh, hi? How long have you been there?”
Oh shit, Jason had to talk now, didn’t he?
“Not very long, but long enough to know you were trying to solve interdimensional travel before apparently succeeding.”
The color drained from Danny’s face. Whoops?
“Uhm, no I didn’t.”
Now that he got a closer look, the student looked like someone Bruce would adopt. Black hair, clear blue eyes, tan skin, sharp features, the whole nine yards. He was actually fairly attractive, maybe even cute.
“Really? I could have sworn that you said ‘stupid physics won’t allow interdimensional travel’”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah sure, and I’m a student here.”
“Wait, you’re not a student here?”
“That’d only be true if you were lying.”
“Well I’m not so-”
“Uh huh, sure you’re not.”
“Look dude-”
“Jason.”
“Look Jason, there’s no way that I could solve interdimensional travel, the multiverse doesn’t exist.”
“Look Danny-”
“How do you know my name?”
“I won’t tell a single soul if you explain how you did it to me”
Curiosity won his gambit. Would he regret what he was about to say? Perhaps.
“Maybe over a coffee?”
He knew it was worth it when the marker hit the floor and Danny moved his hand to cover his red face. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’s done something he regrets, maybe this time it’d be a cute STEM major who knows the secrets to the multiverse.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#jason todd#red hood#danny fenton#danny phantom#danny fenton is a huge nerd#figuring out interdimensional travel instead of finishing his 5 page english paper due 'like yesterday'#jason has done many things he regrets#breaking into a college isnt one#neither is asking out the cute nerd with eccentric capabilities#if only jason knew what he was getting into#boo#jason todd x danny fenton#dead on main#college au#gotham university
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Is That Subway Surfers? - 1k Special
GUYS WE ARE OVER 1K FOLLOWERS! I NEVER EXPECTED THIS TO HAPPEN OH MY WORD
It's only been, what, two months since I started "To Do is to Dare"? That's crazy!!
So for celebration, here is a little backstory on how Arthur and Reader met and a little look into her early Dams days with him and Ollie!
TAG LIST IS CLOSED!
Thanks for all the love!!
December 2022
You hung your head as Vito went over the details one more time.
“Ok, kid. Dams wants to sign you for your last year. And you’ll be partnering with Arthur Leclerc. You know him?” You manager questioned as he held his iPad.
You only rolled your eyes. “I know of him. Isn’t his brother the Ferrari driver? Uh, Charles?”
Vito nodded at your limited knowledge. “Bingo. Dams thinks that the two of you have similar driving styles and that he’ll push you to win the championship.”
You looked down at your iPad that was in your hands. Arthur’s smiley face stared back at you. A list of his credentials were to the left of the picture. You looked back up at your manager. You were thankful for another chance, but you were skeptical.
“Prema didn’t want to keep me for one more year?” You let out a scoff at the end for a good measure. The team that helped you through Formula 3 and your first two years of Formula 2 suddenly dropped you after a few mistakes: mistakes that honestly shouldn’t have happened.
Vito’s hand dropped on your shoulder and he crouched down to eyelevel. He gave you a sympathetic smile. He knew you were nervous of the unknown and he wished Lorenzo could have been here for you. But, he was trying his best.
“Kid.” You locked eyes with him, tears in your lash line. “I know it’s scary, but give the team a chance. This could be it.”
It meaning your last chance to win the championship and maybe get a foot in the door for a future Formula 1 seat. Your next best bet would be to get a test driver seat for McLaren or even Red Bull. But your chances were slim as most of the top teams already had who they wanted with several year contracts in place.
You put the iPad down and took multiple breaths. If you were to give the ok, you’d be meeting your future teammate very quickly.
A trying smile formed on your face. “I think I’ll miss Ollie though. He was a cool kid.”
Vito granted you with another eyeroll. “You speak as if you’re like 5 years older than him.”
Realistically speaking, you were almost two years older than the British driver. But, his “childish” antics made you feel as though you really had to watch out for him.
Vito continued, “And that kid loves you to death. You just need to get over your thoughts of you being unlovable.”
Your head swayed back and forth and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s go meet this, uh, French dude?”
“He’s Monégasque.”
You clicked your tongue. “Ah.”
Vito packed up his bag and the iPads and led you out of your small Nice apartment. The drive to the headquarters wasn’t a long one. You just spent the majority of it watching small raindrops fall down your window, hoping that the smaller one would win the imaginary race that was going on in your head.
“Kid, we her-…”
“DANG IT YOU SHOULD HAVE WON!” Your fist hit the door. You suddenly froze and turned to look at Vito, who was already staring at you. The two of you then suddenly burst into laughter. It took you two a while to calm down, but you eventually made your way into the large building.
The hallways were a bit confusing, but you and Vito finally made it to the conference room. Sadly though, the two of you were the last ones there. A blond boy was sitting in one of the plush chairs, looking intently at his phone.
You guessed he didn’t hear you come in, as you were able to take a seat right next to him. Your eyes barely glanced over, before you saw him playing your favorite mobile game.
“Is that Subway Surfers?” you whispered as you watched Vito introduce himself to the other adults in the room.
Arthur practically jumped out of his chair at the new voice right in his ear. His wide green eyes were met with you, trying not to laugh too hard.
He stuttered out in broken French, “Je – je suis vraiment desole. Je ne savais pas que tu etais la et j’aurais du faire attention, et oh mon dieu, tu es vraiment jolie et maintenant je divague...”
(I – I am so sorry. I didn’t know you were there and I should have been paying attention, and oh my gosh you’re really pretty and now I’m rambling…)
You only stared as he was falling over his words. You put a hand on his leg and he shut up quickly.
“First off, I legit didn’t understand a word you said. And second, whatever it is, it’s fine! I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.” You flashed a bright smile at him.
Arthur tried once again, in English with a heavy accent, “I, uh, am sorry. I should have been paying attention. I’m Arthur.”
He held out his hand for you to take. Your hand grasped his and you shook it.
“Hi Arthur, I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet my teammate for this season.”
He flashed you an even larger smile. In your mind, you thought he was adorable. He let out a small laugh as he turned off his phone.
“It was Subway Surfers. I love the game.”
“So do I! It’s so much fun.”
“Are you two done flirting already or can we begin to talk contracts?” Vito’s voice pulled the two of you from your little bubble. With sheepish smiles from both of you, you turned your attention to the CEO.
The meeting was a few hours long, and by the end of it, you were starving. As you were leaving, Arthur grasped your hand, which made you stop. Vito just calmly said that he’d be waiting in the car.
“Yes?” You cocked your head as you looked up at the taller boy.
He had a shy smile as he looked down at you. “Would you like to join me and my friend for dinner? We’re just going to a local restaurant and it’s not too far.”
As your brain was trying to come up with an excuse, Vito yelled from where he was standing by the vehicle. “She would love to! Just have her give you her address. Have fun kid!”
And with that, he got into the car and drove away. All while you were standing next to Arthur with your mouth open. You quickly closed it to not look like a loser.
“Uh, I guess I’ll come with?” It came out more like a question, but Arthur just went with it. He led you to his car and you were surprised it wasn’t a decked out Ferrari.
You only smirked. “Not a Ferrari guy?”
Arthur rolled his eyes as he got in the driver side. “That would unfortunately be my brother. I might be part of the academy, but we don’t get any fancy treatment.”
You snorted at that. “Yeah, I’ve never actually been a test driver for any team. I have my own management and everything.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows but didn’t ask anything else.
The ride to the restaurant was fairly quiet and not awkward. Around halfway through, he had finally turned on the radio.
And although Arthur didn’t drive a fancy car, he was not above valet parking.
“Hold on,” he told you as he quickly got out and skirted around the front to open your door. You looked up at him with a shy smile.
“What a gentleman.” He hand firmly but gently grasped yours as he led you through the doorway.
“My maman would have my head. Ah, there’s my friend.” Arthur pointed to a table near the back.
But to your surprise, you definitely recognized the brunet that looked bored to death.
“Ollie!” you called out.
The Brit’s head whipped up at the sound of your voice. A giant smile formed on his face as he stood up. You quickly brought him into a hug.
“I didn’t know you knew Arthur?” He questioned as the three of you sat down. Arthur called the waiter over so that you could get a drink.
You looked over at the green-eyed driver. “Hmmm, just met today actually.”
Arthur sipped his water. “We’re teammates for this year.”
Ollie looked back and forth, ideas forming in his mind. But, he wouldn’t be telling the ideas to you any time soon.
“What is that smirk for,” you questioned.
“You totally scared him when you met him. Didn’t you?”
“You scared him too?”
Oh, boy were you screwed for the next years.
(What you didn’t know was that these boys would become two of you very best friends. And maybe one of them would become something more.)
y/n.89 has posted
y/n.89 am I interrupting something?
tagged: olliebearman and arthur_leclerc
liked by y/n_nation, y/n-fan, y/n_is_on_top, and 10,839 others
olliebearman no comment?
prema_y/n ahaha prema racers back together
y/n_fan well, until prema dropped her...
y/nxarthur well, now we get ollie AND arthur content so I'm not complaining
arthur_leclerc btw I wiped it right off
olliebearman YOU TAKE THAT BACK
y/n.89 girls, girls, girls, let's not fight
prema_trio your honor, I love them
best_rookie_y/n anyone else here from 2024 and is here to see how little y/n was
olliebearman has posted
olliebearman who's the third-wheel now hmmmm?
tagged: y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc
liked by premaracing, olliebear2, y/n_lover29, and 15,983 others
y/n.89 still you?
y/n&friends they are so hot
ollie_is_my_guy I could take them (but not in a fight)
olliebearman he is not THAT funny
arthur_leclerc yes I am
y/n.89 ollie is a certified Arthur haterrrrr
olliebearman then you'd be a certified Arthur loverrrrrr
y/n.89 shut UP
y/n_nation our girl and her boys :D
arthur_leclerc has posted
arthur_leclerc why are we always at restaurants?
tagged: y/n.89 and olliebearman
liked by y/n.89, olliebearman, charles_leclerc, and 58,284 others
y/n.89 because we like food (and none of us can actually cook)
charles_leclerc felt
arthur_leclerc go away
thur_thur_92 I wonder who won
olliebearman me
arthur_leclerc me
y/n.89 wrong, it was me
best_trio_2023 they all give chaotic gen z energy and I am here for it!
y/n_loves_ME its the fact that Arthur is technically the oldest cause he's 22 right now while y/n is 19 and Ollie just turned 18
y/n.89 yet he still acts like a child
rb_y/n we need this trio to get back together in 2024 ASAP
y/n.89 has posted
y/n.89 they watch kung-fu panda ONCE
tagged: olliebearman and arthur_leclerc
liked by y/n_nation, f2_fanatic, prema_trio22, and 19,274 others
y/n_updates BAHAHAHAHA cause this is so true for everyone
arthur_leclerc I am the Dragon Warrior
olliebearman um, no, you're more of a Master Oogway
y/n.89 I am definitely the dragon warrior, ollie you can be the goose
y/n's-favorite HELLO?
f2-fanatic I'm going to miss this group in a few months since y/n has to leave after the championship, and I don't know if Arthur is confirmed for next year :(
f2-trio SHHHHHH WE DON'T SPEAK OF THAT
y/n.89 I look amazing for once
y/n_nation ONE MORE RACE AND YOU GET THAT CHAMPIONSHIP GIRL!!
y/n.89 with olliebearman and arthur_leclerc has posted
y/n.89 wherever we go, we'll somehow end up back together
liked by damsracing, fredderikvasti, y/n_nation and 11,783 others
y.n_ON-TOP I'm going to miss this
olliebearman this was actually sweet?
arthur_lecerlc yeah, weird. are you feeling ok?
y/n.89 no, this is more like I feel threatened? you both follow me everywhere
rookie_y/n I know she's done in f2, but where will she go after?
y/n'sfavperson as of right now, we don't know. basically all doors for f1 are closed
y/n_updates well, she was wanting to possibly be a testing driver for McLaren but rumor has it that they just side Bianca Bustemante
vito_official can't say that I'll 100 percent miss the three of you annoying me all the time, but I will miss the three of you
olliebearman I KNEW YOU LIKED US
arthur_leclerc LETS GO
vito_official I take it back?
y/n.89 no
y/n4f1 we just need a miracle right now - for her to somehow get into f1
f1_news GUYS DID YOU JUST SEE??? CHECO JUST ANNOUNCED HIS RETIREMENT
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @aeh2 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19
#arthur leclerc x reader#arthur leclerc imagine#arthur leclerc#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman imagine#formula 2 x reader#formula 2#formula 2 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x driver!reader#f1 fanfic#arthur leclerc x y/n#arthur leclerc fluff#arthur leclerc fanfic#Arthur leclerc#Charles Leclerc mentioned
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two sentence horror story
you ran up to the first person you saw - a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded.
masterlist | @darkuni63 | @momnomnom | @sweetempathprunetree |
writer: quae (explicit-tae)
word count: 4.284
warning: disturbing scenes, reader is taken, reader makes a dumb decision - don't be like reader, aphrodisiac intake, dubcon/noncon scenes, erotic massages, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, impregnation kink, creampie,
You ran up to the first person you saw - a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded.
You take a deep breath, massaging your temples. You were going to explode if you didn’t get out of here - your desk at the office. The workload your boss had slammed onto your desk didn’t match up with your schedule out of work. How were you expected to run errands after? You could barely manage to eat lunch some days and opted to not even leave your desk to do so.
“Doing another double?”
You stopped massaging your temples to turn towards Irina. She has a sympathetic look on her face.
Nodding your head, Irina nods. “Same.” she groans. “It’s like they think we’re robots.”
“Tell me about it.”
Irina was your desk neighbor, only being a few feet away and separated by a makeshift wall. She isn’t tall in the slightest but her heels make the majority of her height. She has dyed ginger hair that she often places in a low ponytail and the brightest hazel eyes you’re ever seen. She stands over the wall to speak with you.
“Maybe you need a break.” Irina wiggles her brows. “For a few days. Take PTO.”
You’re unsure, and Irina senses this.
“I was just like you last week.” Irina says. “Bags under my eyes and all. But you see how refreshed I am after my break.”
Irina had a point. She smiled more and had a glow that could only appear when one was out of work - paid at that. You assumed she got the much needed rest and maybe even hit up a spa - you never asked, not one to ever pry.
“I’m not really sure.” you trail off. You had PTO, but only ever used it for holidays and your birthday, and even then it wasn’t as if you did anything out of the ordinary.
“Are you single?” Irina asks in a hushed whisper. The question is odd. She never pried into your life before.
Slowly, you nod.
Irina’s lips curled into a sly smirk.
“I know exactly what you need, Y/N.” Irina backs away and you can hear her at her desk, rummaging around. Her heels click against the floor as she comes to your desk. She places down a small, rectangular card. “A massage.”
“A massage?” you snort. You read the words on the card and hum.
“Between you and me,” Irina starts, whispering once more. “It’s an erotic massage.”
It takes you a few moments to get where Irina was coming from.
“O-Oh.” you’re embarrassed and unsure what to say.
“Maybe you just need to relax.” Irina giggles. “You know. Have an attractive man massage you…” Irina trails off. She’s unsure if she should continue or if that would be going too far. “Just think about it and let me know. First time is half off!”
You think about Irina’s words the entire day and when you’re home soaking in your bath, you decide to check out the website.
The website was official, but you needed a code to get in. Irina had sent you one once you asked about it, excited that you were checking into it.
The website had pictures and videos of said “erotic massages” and you were sure that it was just amateur porn. But you’d admit, the way the men - and even women if that was what visitors were into - massaged their clients, it appeared to be amazing.
You pondered if that was what you needed. A good massage (and a good fuck). But wasn’t that paying for sex? You haven’t paid for sex before (of course) and you’re unsure how this works.
Reading the website, you are greeted with many pictures of men with their names and important details about them - even STD screenings if you were going to engage sexually with them.
“So, did you book a massage?” Irina asks you the following day, giddy and excited to hear your thoughts.
You shake your head. “It’s all…so new to me.” you admit.
Irina nods her head in agreement. She understood completely.
“But I’m not…against it. Is that crazy?”
“Of course not!” Irina exclaims. “We all need a good orgasm. You’ll come back good as new afterwards.”
You feel yourself grow hot. “How many bookings did you do?”
“Five days out of the 7 I was off.” Irina cackles. “It was amazing. If you’re interested in sex, you get to pick your poison.”
“Excuse me?” you raise a brow.
Pick your poison.
Your eyes scanned the hundreds of categories displayed in front of you.
Bound.
Gag.
Anal play.
You exhale.
What in the world were you about to get yourself into?
Picking your poison was harder than you’d expect. You weren’t an avid porn watcher, but when you did to get yourself off, there were a few things you’d be willing to try - and a ton that you weren’t.
It took you a few days to even start your own application process. Something about this felt off - wrong. You were technically paying for sex and it makes you feel desperate. You’ve busied yourself with work that finding a partner or even a hookup is difficult. You wouldn’t never thought about paying for an erotic massage to get your mind off of work and destress yourself.
But, you were also too far in. You’ve made an account, browsed through several videos and pictures of said massages and even searched through potential masseurs.
Your PTO was approved. You had to go through countless documents before your boss would even consider, but you were approved nonetheless and you were excited. You were jittery finishing the last document, the thought of you getting off and picking your masseur.
“You finished early.” Irina’s voice sounds besides you as you’re strolling out of the office. She has a knowing smirk on her lips, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Have you picked your masseur?”
You shake your head.
“That’s okay.” Irina waves off. “It took me a whole day to decide. As long as you pick your poison, it’d be better to find your masseur.”
You swallow. You indeed had picked your poison and it filtered through hundreds of masseurs and masseuses who experienced doing so.
Irina suddenly stops walking as you reach the parking garage. She turns to you. “Don’t back down.” she says and you’re confused by her sudden change of tone. “You got this. Just relax and enjoy your mini vacation.”
You nod your head with a slight gulp. “I’ll try.” Your voice is low and meek and Irina only offers a smile and a short wave before she makes her way to her car.
Your mind replays Irina’s words.
Don’t back down.
You got this.
It was your first day of your vacation and you’ve spent hours scouting through profiles of masseurs. You were sure that you weren’t a picky person - but no one has caught your eye. You contemplated giving up countless times, but you were determined. You needed this - a get away from reality.
A notification sounds through your laptop and you’re taken aback. On the right top corner of the screen shows a little message. You click it and a tab pops up. It appears to be a livechat with the service.
Still deciding on a masseur?
You re-read the message and groan. You type back a response.
Yes.
Three dots are forming onto the bottom of the chat and you await a response.
If you’d like, we can send recommendations.
Or…
Your eyes wait in anticipation for the next response. Or what?
We can open your profile for masseurs to find. You would be met with masseurs in your area who fit your poison categories.
Would you be interested?
You gulp. Having the masseurs message instead of doing it yourself appeared to be easier. You were an indecisive person after all - maybe if your options were limited then it would make your decision easier.
Yes, please.
The following day you awoke like normal. You showered, ate and got ready to go back onto the site. You were expecting only a few messages from masseurs - not hundreds. Your eyes are wide as you scour through the messages and profile pictures of the men.
Now you were left more indecisive than before.
Another notification sounds on your laptop and you’re expecting it to be the livechat but it wasn’t.
“Taehyung.” your lips murmur out the name of the masseur messaging you.
The man was attractive. He appeared tall with dark hair and the same dark eyes. In the pictures displayed, he showed countless pictures all from headshots to body.
The lip ring paired with hydrated lips are what catches your eyes instantly, the sleeve of tattoos are next. His smile was addictive and it reminded you of a bunny.
Your mind was set - Jungkook was going to be your masseur.
Taehyung’s prices were lower than the others and you contemplated why, but you wouldn’t complain.
You submitted your own STD screening after you acquired Taehyung’s paired with a driver's license and a masseur’s certificate.
All that was left to do was speak with Taehyung. Your nerves were getting at you - this man would eventually see you naked. He was hot - insanely so. How many times had he himself done this?
You were suddenly getting second thoughts about this.
Irina’s words replayed in your head.
You got this.
You inhale deeply. “I got this.” you say to yourself.
You anticipated the phone to ring any moment now, and when it had you instantly grasped it and answered. You mentally slapped yourself at appearing so desperate for a man’s attention.
“H-Hello.”
“Hello.”
Taehyung’s voice is deep and smooth. Your legs shake at just the sound of it.
“Hi.” is all you could muster out and a laugh is heard on the other side of the phone.
“Hi.” Taehyung repeats. “You’re Y/N, I assume.”
You nod without realizing. “Yes.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Over the phone, at least. I’m Taehyung.” Your mind flashes with Taehyung and how he looks right now.
You and Taehyung speak for over a half an hour - speaking business and detailing what you’d be doing while with him. He had gone over your poison - much to your dismay - and agreed that they were mild compared to the rest of the categories.
“One of your poison picking was to be blind folded.” Taehyung murmurs. “That’s what we would start with when you come. I will be sending you my address shortly and you’ll be greeted upon arrival. I’ll pass you what you’ll need.”
You listen to Taehyung speak.
“You are familiar with erotic massages, right?”
“Only with what I see on the site.” you curse at how uneducated you were.
Taehyung chuckles. “Cute.” he murmurs. “You’ll be naked, of course. I’ll place a robe and your blindfold in the dressing room.”
“Okay.” you respond, cheeks flushed.
“I can’t wait to meet you, Y/N.”
The following evening you were a wreck. You’ve showered, scrubbing any inch of dirt off your skin. You lightly lotioned your body, your mind recalling that the masseur would be rubbing oil onto you. You combed your hair and placed it into a low bun and when it was time for you to go, you did several takes in the mirror to assure you were presentable.
The address he sent you wasn’t far and when you arrived you were surprised to find that it appeared to be a business - more like a convenient store in size. The windows are large, but not see through. You can see your reflection as you stroll towards the door.
The door sounds as you enter the small shop. The floors are hardwood and the walls were a light color. In front of you sat a large desk with a computer on the other side - you assumed a receptionist desk. You’re anxious for what's to come when a door to your right opens and Taehyung comes out. He’s wearing a tight fitted dark shirt with a collar and slacks.
“Y/L Y/N?” Taehyung asks with a bright smile, bunny teeth on display. His voice was different in person. “I’m Taehyung.” he bows slightly and offers you his hand to take, and when you do he gently kisses it. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Likewise.” you murmur softly, starstruck by the man's beauty and charisma.
“If you would like to follow me.” Taehyung closes the door behind him and passes you around the receptionist desk. “Back here is where we’d be for the day.”
You follow closely past two sliding doors. It opens to reveal a large room. The room is slightly darker than the previous one and you assume it was to fit the vibe. One wall is fully stocked with mirrors while the one forward had a dark crimson color. In the middle of the room sat one medium size massage bed and on top of it, one robe, a towel and a blindfold.
“I’ll leave to allow you to get undressed. The robe is optional if you are not yet comfortable with starting the massage. If you are, you can get undressed and place the towel on you.”
“Okay.” you nod your head.
Taehyung leaves and you take a deep breath. There was no backing down now. You had already paid your deposit for your appointment and now you are here.
You begin to undress yourself, placing your folded clothes neatly on a nearby chair. You grasped the towel and wrapped your body with it and laid upon the massage bed.
A knock sounds a couple of minutes later and Taehyung enters once more.
“Are you feeling alright?” Taehyung asks. He’s holding a cup in his hands. “I got you some tea. It should help with your nerves.”
You grasp the warm tea being placed in your hands. You nod at his question before sipping the tea. It was delicious and you could taste the mixed fruit infused with it.
Taehyung takes the cup of tea once you are finished with it and he places it down on a nearby table. He faces you. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” you say with a gulp.
You lay back onto the massage bed, chest against it and you cross your arms to rest your head. You feel your towel gently be removed from your body and a gush of cold air greets you.
You hum slowly once you feel Taehyung’s large hands begin to rub and tug against your back, rising up to your neck and falling back all the way down your spine and to your lower back.
“You must work so hard.” Taehyung notes. “You have a lot of knots.”
You hum in agreement. Your anxiousness and worry were slowly fading as time passes. The massage is amazing and you feel as though you could kiss Irina for recommending you such a sight.
“I’m going to put the blindfold on now, alright?” Taehyung says suddenly and you nearly forgot about your poisons.
You nod without hesitation and your head is lifted slightly so that the blindfold can wrap around you. It’s tight, but it doesn’t bother you.
“I’m going to step out to grab the rest of the supplies needed for your massage.”
You hear the door open and footsteps sound. It closes a few minutes later and you feel Taehyung’s presence inside the room.
“She’s ready.” Jungkook murmurs to Taehyung who is standing outside the room, a box of sex toys ready for your massage. “Don’t have too much fun.” Jungkook calls from down the hall.
“I’ll try not to.” Taehyung whispers low to himself.
Taehyung places the box of toys down onto a table and marvels at your naked body.
“Are you ready?” Taehyung’s voice is low, raspy and deep. You gulp and nod your head.
Taehyung places a hand along your backside until he’s touching your ass. He rubs it, already placing the oil onto it.
The sounds of your sweet moans are already sending him over the edge. He’s hard and wishes he could have you the way he wants. But Taehyung was a patient man. He waited this long to have you. Paying Irina possibly cost him more than it should and displaying Jungkook’s pictures on the website to assure you didn’t know his identity was risky - but worth it if it meant he could have you.
Taehyung’s fingers fall dangerously close to your clit as he rubs your ass and you whimper at the closeness. It would be a matter of time until you’re a complete and utter mess thanks to the aphrodisiac Jungkook has made for you.
You release a high groan when Taehyung presses a thumb onto your clit. He rubs gently at first and you’re arching your back to get more impact.
Your hole is teasing him, pulsing for him to enter his fingers inside of you - so he does. He enters two at first to stretch you out.
You feel amazing - more than you usually do during sex. You tell yourself it’s because you haven't had an actual man pleasure you in a while and there's only so much a vibrator can do.
Taehyung fucks his fingers inside of you. You moan loudly, unable to control them any longer.
Taehyung encourages you to arch your back so he can have deeper access by wrapping a free arm beneath your stomach to arch you forward.
“You’re so wet.” Taehyung groans. He removes his fingers to place them inside his mouth and he himself moans at how amazing you taste.
Taehyung enters his fingers back inside of you and continues to pump. He lowers himself to your ear, enjoying the way you moan so sweetly for him.
You feel Taehyung release you just to flip you over onto your back. You’re trembling still and your pussy throbs, missing the way Taehyung’s fingers felt inside of it.
Taehyung presses a soft kiss against your cheeks before his lips touch yours. The feeling is amazing, no matter how intimate it felt. You speculate that it was a part of his job - to pleasure you in all ways he could. You hadn’t cared in the slightest.
Taehyung loves the way your lips taste and he wants to savor the taste, but he’s sure he has more than enough time to. He trails kisses down your neck to your chest and he couldn’t help but flick his tongue against your nipple.
Taehyung gropes both of your breasts, massaging as his tongue wraps around your nipple fully and he suckles on it. You’re moaning loudly and breathing heavily at the feeling. Your mind is drifting away from any anxiety you felt - almost as if it was never present to begin with. Your body feels hot and amazing thanks to Taehyung.
Taehyung trails his right hand between your legs, slapping your inner thighs to allow him access. He rubs your clit rapidly, suckling on your breast as if his life depended on it.
You squeeze your eyes shut - not as if you could see regardless - and your body feels hot. Your stomach churns and you’re shaking your head side to side.
“You’re about to cum.” Taehyung chuckles darkly against your nipples. He licks it one last time before lifting himself up. He continues to fuck his fingers inside of you, eyes watching intently the way your pussy gushes out your juices onto the massage bed.
You flinch just as Taehyug removes his fingers from inside of you.
Taehyung isn’t upset that you’ve squirted and managed to make a mess of yourself - it’s exactly what he wanted.
“We’re not done, baby.” Taehyung says and you shiver at the pet name.
Taehyung needed to taste you before he could fuck you. He rounds the massage bed and lowers himself to your legs, already wide and inviting.
Taehyung licks along your clit and he grunts. He nods his head from side to side, fingers firmly gripped on your thighs to assure you do not move.
You were overstimulated and going crazy. You’ve already came once, but Taehyung was determined to make you cum again - and again until you’re begging him to stop.
Taehyung’s glad he got you in his grasp; so glad and excited that he would be able to eat you out everyday. You would never leave his side again.
“It feels so good.” your words appear slurred but you couldn’t help yourself.
Taehyung watches your face, your lips are opening and closing and a few times even being bitten by your teeth. He’s positive you’re overwhelmed with pleasure - you worked so hard everyday and you never had the chance to ever relax.
But now Taehyung has entered your life and you no longer need to work.
Just as Taehyung felt like you were going to cum - due to your heavy breathing and loud moaning, he removes his tongue from your clit and he slaps it.
“I’m going to fuck you.” Taehyung states. His initial plan was to pleasure you, using all of your kinks you displayed on your profile. But you and he had eternity together so he would always get the chance to another time.
Taehyung removes his pants and underwear in a swift movement. He always fantasized what your pussy would feel like and now he would finally get the chance to.
Taehyung releases a long groan as he enters you. Your pussy was amazing - so wet and tight just for him. He wants to go easy on you knowing that you hadn’t had sex in such a long time, but he can’t. He’s uncontrollable, fucking into you at such a brutal paced that the massage bed is screeching against the floor.
Your breast are bouncing as Taehyung fucks you. Your head is thrown back and your mind is swirling. The sensation never feels enough - you never felt like this before. Even with the amount of times you managed to cum, you could never get enough.
Were you this stressed? This cock-hungry?
You’re unsure how long Taehyung fucks you. It’s as though you completely black out.
You get flipped onto your front and he fucks into you at the same brutal pace, slapping your ass hard until it bruises. He wraps a hand around your neck as he does so and whispers filthy words into your ears, but your mind doesn’t allow you to fully comprehend what he’s saying.
You’re so far gone and fucked out that Taehyung isn’t sure you’ll remember the amazing feeling you are experiencing - but you and he had eternity together.
Taehyung flips you so that you are on top of him, yet you have no control. You came three more times and Taehyung twice, yet the both of you were insatiable. You would be sore the following day, but it's alright. This is what you came for in the end - to be wrecked by him and him only.
Taehyung groans, fingernails digging into the skin of your hip. Your arms are wrapped around him as he drills inside of you. Your tears are stained to your cheeks - tears of pure joy and pleasure. He was going to cum again - inside of you like he had before. He ponders what you’d look like swollen with his child - round and healthy with enlarged breast to nurse his child.
Taehyung grunts. “So beautiful.” he compliments, sending a kiss onto your shoulder. “So beautiful and all mine.”
Your eyes widened when you managed to escape out of the small window. Your hands and knees are bleeding - having been scrapped against the broken glass. You run and run, never stopping. Your legs want to give out and your lungs ache for air, but you cannot stop now.
You’re unsure how long you’ve been gone for, trapped in the dark room by Taehyung.
Months?
Were people looking for you?
You hadn’t been outside since the day you arrived at your appointment - a day you regret greatly. You awoke bound to and blindfolded by Taehyung, him assuring he would unbind you as soon as he could trust you - and he never had. Each day you endured whatever the man wanted to give - your mind refusing to believe this was your reality.
You’re unsure how you managed to escape, but you don’t dwell on it. The freedom you feel now is overwhelming. You begin to cry, the tears blurring your vision.
Your feet reach a road and you finally manage to stop. You fall to your knees, heaving for any bit of air your lungs are willing to give you.
Lights shine on you and your hands lift to cover your eyes.
A car was coming.
A car.
You ran up to the first person you saw - a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded.
The man's eyes are wide when he rolls down his window and says. “How did you get out, baby?”
Your eyes widen to match his in pure horror as you recognize the voice - the same one belonging to the kidnapper you escaped from.
Taehyung.
You shake your head, paralyzed with fear. This wasn't the man you met for your appointment, but you'd never forget that voice.
Your feet turn to run away, but you feel arms wrap around you. You're yanked off of your feet and into the large car. You scream for help - any help that you can find, but you aren't saved.
Taehyung enters the car and shakes his head. Your wrist are bleeding and he's sure you fought long and hard to get your hands out of the cuffs. "To think I was about to take the cuffs and the blindfold off for your good behavior." he tsks, locking the door and speeding down the road.
#bts yandere#bts smut#btswritingcafe#yandere bts#two sentence horror story#taehyung x reader#taehyung smut#taehyung yandere#bangtanwriters net#bangtanwritershq#bangtan smut#trivia-yandere#btsmasterlist2023#bts fanfic#bts masterlist#bts imagines#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#yandere jungkook
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Tease Me*
Summary: An extra for Teach Me*
The one where you and your best friend, Harry, are invited to a Haunted House.
But ghosts aren’t the only fun thing about this party.
(For my non-spooky besties, the house isn't actually haunted! Just old and abandoned! There are no jump scares💞)
Word Count: 9.5k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, Daddy kink, masturbation, creampie, slight breeding kink, fluff, subspace, Harry being a simp
“Holy…shit.”
The large mansion looms into view. A tall, skeletal structure that’s brightened by the soft glow of the full moon. Hidden behind tall pines and a collection of dancing shadows, it stands like a sentinel of forgotten secrets. Ivy drips from the rotting wood, and boards cover a majority of the windows. The once grand façade bearing the scars of time.
You can see a collection of breathtaking stained glass windows lining the top story of the house. You can’t exactly make out the artwork from this distance, but you know, undoubtedly, that they’re beautiful. Only imagining what those reflections might look like in the sunlight.
The car sneaks along the gravel driveway, the sound of rocks and crunching leaves following you every inch of the way. You feel your breath hitch as you glance over toward Harry, who returns your look with a cocked brow of his own.
He pulls up next to the only other car on the lot. Rather, the only other car for miles. From the passenger seat, you can see Charlie, Jackie, and Caleb all huddled around the hood, conversing in hushed voices, and waving at you both in greeting.
Harry shifts into park before leaning back in his seat to turn his attention to you. “Well?”
You suck in a quiet breath before nodding once. “It’s…spooky.”
“Mhm.”
“And…big.”
“Thanks, but I meant the house,” he replies cooly, and you can’t help but grin.
“Funny. Honestly, I don’t think this is what I was expecting.”
“No?” He considers this with a nod of his own. “I guess it’s more ugly than scary. Caleb said he used to come here all the time when he was a kid. His brother claimed it was haunted.”
“Ooo,” you tease, and Harry smirks. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
He lifts a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t ever really think about it.”
“That’s fair.”
Now his expression twists into something more mischievous as he leans closer to you. “But…if any ghosts come out and try to steal you from me, I have no problem sending ‘em back to the afterlife.”
You laugh again as you playfully swat your hand across his arm before surging forward to kiss him. “You’re an idiot, baby.”
“Yeah. But m’your idiot.”
“Unfortunately.”
He laughs.
With that, you both unbuckle your seatbelts and step out of the car, joining your friends just beside the front steps of the mansion.
“Well, well, well,” Charlie grins, nodding his chin at the two of you. “Can’t believe you actually showed. Thought Har-Bear wasn’t into Halloween.”
Harry offers another shrug; relaxed but amused. “I’m not. But I wouldn’t mind seeing you get the shit scared out of you.”
Charlie’s expression falls while the rest of you laugh. “Okay, funny. Hysterical. Caleb’s the one that pissed himself when he was here last.”
“I was ten, dipshit,” Caleb snorts. “And I didn’t piss myself, I just screamed a little.”
“Right,” Jackie teases, nudging him with her elbow. “Whatever you say, champ.”
Caleb’s eyes roll, but he’s smiling as the five of you begin to make your way up onto the porch. “You’ll see. It’s spooky.”
“I’m sure we will, bud,” Charlie replies, tossing him a wink. “And after you go running back to the car in tears, we’ll make sure to lock up for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Welcome.”
With a soft laugh, Harry looks over at you. “You scared, Bee?”
“Me? Scared?” you snort. “Never.”
“Good.” He tosses his arm around your shoulder and tugs you into his chest. “Nothing to be scared of while I’m here.”
The other two boys pretend to be annoyed while Jackie offers you both a cheeky grin. “You guys are sickeningly sweet.”
“Oh, we know,” Harry answers impishly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I mean, I do a majority of the heavy lifting. But Bee’s pretty cute, too, I suppose.”
“Hysterical,” you deadpan, using your elbow to shove him away as you all approach the front door.
Your little group slows to a stop, exchanging glances and deep breaths as Caleb slowly says, “…are you ready?”
The air is laced with anticipation and excitement, and the four of you nod before his hand outstretches for the door.
It opens with a shrill screech as a flock of birds fling from their spot on a nearby branch and take off into the ghostly night sky.
With a deep breath, Caleb leads you all into the house, head held high, and shoulders back. The mansion is dark and the floorboards creak beneath your sneakers. The air is musky and cobwebs drape from each corner of the doorframe.
Quicky, you all search for your cellphones and flashlights, flipping them on to illuminate the path before you. Revealing a bit more of the corridor as you make your way inside.
“Shit,” Charlie murmurs, eyes wide as his focus flicks from wall to wall. “All right, maybe you weren’t kidding.”
“Told you,” Caleb retorts, peeking his head into the first room. “It’s not exactly scary, but it is cool as hell.”
“No kidding,” Jackie chimes in while you nod. “How many rooms are there?”
“No idea. But there are at least three levels. Plus, the attic, but Zac and I could never figure out how to get up there.”
“I’ll find it,” Charlie declares confidently, and Harry shoots you a knowing smirk. “What? If anyone can, it’s me.”
“I’m sure,” Caleb huffs, slipping in to what looks to be the drawing room. “By all means, go ahead. Honestly, we can split up and check out the other rooms. There’s a lot of cool shit here.”
Charlie nods once, running the light from his phone down one of the walls. Examining the faded wallpaper and dust-covered picture frames.
With a cock of his brow, Harry leans closer, nudging his shoulder against yours. “What do you say? Wanna do some exploring?”
You grin eagerly, nodding as well. “Yeah. Maybe we’ll find the attic first.”
You catch Charlie’s frown out of the corner of your eye, but the five of you can’t help but laugh as Harry leads you toward the next hallway.
The group disperses, with Charlie and Jackie searching the kitchen, Caleb ascending the stairs to the second floor, and you and Harry beginning for some of the bedrooms.
The house is quiet. Eerily so, with only the sound of your footsteps to accompany you. And even with two flashlights, you can only see a portion of the narrow hallway at a time. From the wooden trim to the chipped paint.
You fall in line behind Harry’s taller frame, allowing him to guide you toward the furthest room as he strides with a confidence you envy. Unaffected by the sounds, and smells, and ghostly aurora.
“You all right back there, Bee?” he calls after a moment more of your silence. Seeming to catch your strained inhales and lack of commentary. “Still with me?”
“Yes,” you whisper, but it’s airy. As though your voice has been swept away by the hands of a ghost. “Just…trying not to trip.”
Even without seeing the full of his face, you can tell he’s smiling. “Come on, lovey, you know I’d catch you.”
“Uh-huh,” you murmur, lashes fluttering as you glance up toward the old chandelier dangling from the tall ceiling.
Suddenly, Harry stops, forcing you to catch yourself against him before he glances at you. “Hop on.”
Confused, you blink. “What?”
“Hop on,” he repeats, placing his cellphone between his teeth while crouching down. Allowing you access to his back in an invitation to climb up.
And once you finally understand, you can’t help but smile. Slipping your arms around his shoulders before hoisting yourself onto his body. Legs curling around his hips while his hands reach back to keep you sturdy.
Once you’re settled, you gently pull the phone from between his lips and aim the fluorescent gleam across the room. Providing him a bit more light to see as he straightens up.
“Thank you, baby,” he hums. “You all right?”
“Mhm. Are you?”
“Very. Just make sure to hold on, yeah?”
You grin a bit wider and tuck your chin over his shoulder. “Promise.”
With that, he begins down the hall, keeping his fingers tight around your ankles. “All right, baby dove, where do you wanna go first?”
Vaguely, you gesture toward the closest room. From the small sliver your light catches, you can see that it’s filled with large curtains and furniture draped in cloth. It looks…reminiscent. Calling to you and inviting you to step inside a lost era, a forgotten memory.
He carries you closer, and as he strides through the murky corridor, you use the height advantage to look around. Taking in the more subtle details of the old house.
The hand railing beside the staircase. The broken floor beneath you. The cracked light fixtures and dusty bookshelves.
You can’t imagine the life that was lived. The parties they threw, the elegance that sang from every corner, the memories that were created.
You wonder about the people who built it. Wonder what they were like, what made them leave. If they ever reminisce about the old house they used to call home.
“It’s beautiful,” you find yourself saying, exhaling the sentiment almost fondly.
Harry hums again, eyes trailing across the expanse of the carpet underneath his shoes. “Shame nobody ever bought it and fixed it up.”
“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “Maybe we should.”
He smiles at this, squeezing your legs a bit tighter. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm. Wouldn’t it be fun? A little passion project?”
“Maybe. Don’t know what we’d do with all this space, though.”
You shrug. “Well, we’d have plenty of room to storm off if we got into a fight.”
He laughs. “Yeah?”
“And we’d have plenty of places for…you know, other things.”
“Other things,” he repeats knowingly, glancing back with a smirk. “I do love our other things.”
You snuggle closer. “And if we ever wanted to start a family…we’d have room for that, too.”
He’s quiet now, his tongue slowly sweeping across his bottom lip in thought. “D’you think about our family, Bee?”
“I do,” you admit, almost sheepishly. “Sometimes. Not, like…right away, or anything. But…I just wonder, I guess. What you’d be like. What we’d be like.”
“Yeah? And how are we?”
“We’re good,” you tell him. “You’re the fun parent. Of course. And I’m the one that makes them do their homework and eat their veggies.”
He grins. “Of course.”
“And they have your hair. Lots of curls, very wild.”
“Mm.”
“And they love to sing. They aren’t good at it…but they love it.”
He laughs a bit louder this time, head shaking as he brushes his thumbs across the exposed skin of your ankles. “Sounds about right.”
“And we’re really happy,” you finish tenderly. “And we have two dogs, and one cat. And nothing changes between us. We’re still us, and we still love each other a lot, and we still go on tons of adventures and have really good, wild sex.”
He’s smiling so hard, you can see his dimples. “I wouldn’t want anything less.”
“Me, either.”
You fall silent as Harry finally brings you both into the large room, ducking beneath the frame to make sure you don’t hit your head. You kiss the side of his jaw gratefully before he sets you down with a gentle plop, allowing you both to straighten up and take a look around.
Sizable paintings hang from each wall. Encased behind gold, elegant frames that are layered with a light film of dust. Even still, the artwork is breathtaking. Portraits of what look to be great men and women. Soft brush strokes that are wildly vivid, despite the many years stuck in this dark room.
Harry takes his flashlight from you and aims it toward the green, velvet sofa in the middle of the vast space. Eyes wide as he studies it. “A lot of this stuff is in better shape than I thought it’d be.”
You make a noise of agreement as you gingerly run your fingers along the faded wallpaper. “I wonder what made them leave this all behind?”
“I don’t know. S’probably worth a fortune.”
“And it’s still here? Nobody came and looted it?”
He sports a rather charmed grin at your choice of wording. “Guess not. Kind of strange, honestly. City never reclaimed it, either.”
“Yeah…”
He glances over, a mischievous glint behind the soft green. “Maybe there’s a reason.”
“What?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Maybe…the ghosts won’t let it go.”
Finally understanding his joke, you roll your eyes with a snort before striding toward the giant bookshelf. “Ha, ha.”
“Maybe the owners died in the fifties,” he continues, dropping his voice to a lower drawl. Attempting to add a bit of mystique and suspicion. “Maybe they were murdered in cold blood. And they never found out who killed them, so they haunt the grounds of their old house. Until the day their killer dares to come back.”
You pretend to be intrigued, nodding along with faux fascination. “Uh-huh. Which makes us…what? Ghost bait?”
“Mmm…perhaps,” he murmurs, stalking toward you. “Perhaps that’s why Caleb really brought us here. To feed us to his ancestors. Appease the Halloween Gods.”
“Right.”
He closes the distance between you, angling the beam of his light up toward his face as dark shadows dance across his features. “Or maybe Caleb isn’t Caleb at all. Maybe…he’s a ghost—”
Suddenly, he jolts forward, making you gasp as you steel yourself from the sudden movement. Eyes wide and heart racing.
But once you realize he’s merely messing with you, you begin to glare. Scoffing, “God, you’re an ass.”
He drops his cellphone and beams at you. Much too smug with his victory. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I won’t resist drop kicking your ass out that window.”
“Fair enough,” he chuckles, peering down at you with a delicate look of adoration before he’s pressing his lips to yours. “Forgive me?”
You try to pout into the kiss, but he’s too good. Warm and soft and the definition of comfort. “Hm. Fine. Just this once.”
He offers one final peck before returning to his search. Hands sweeping along the grimy bookshelves, fingers trailing down the broken spines. He seems lost in thought, and you watch almost fondly as he reaches out for one particular title.
“Frankenstein,” he reads aloud, tilting it back with a smile. “Used to be my favorite growing up.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. My mom used to read it to me all the time.”
And you feel this undeniable tug on your heartstrings as you settle behind him, arms slipping around his middle. “What did you like about it?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I liked the idea of something so…broken being so beautiful. Or maybe it was just the idea of how he was built. And why. You know?”
“Yeah. I think it’s sweet you liked it so much. You never told me.”
“I mean, I stopped reading it as I got older. I think I just liked the way my mom read it to me. She’d do all these voices, try to freak me out.”
You laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”
“It was great. I loved it. S’probably one of my favorite memories growing up.”
And there’s that yanking in your chest again. “You’re cute, you know that?”
He smirks. “Thanks.”
With that, he releases the book, allowing it to fall back into place on the shelf beside the other novels.
But, the moment it lands, a startling and rather jarring rumble explodes from somewhere behind you. Compelling a jump as you both spin around in search for the offending sound.
And there, just beside the old grandfather clock that sits near the door, hangs one of the large paintings. This one of a beautiful woman wearing a stunning, purple grown and a coy smile. Yet, her portrait is moving. Sliding across the wall as if by magic until you’re able to see what lies behind.
A passageway.
You suck in a gasp as you and Harry both shine your lights into the dark opening. Finding nothing more than a narrow stairway that disappears into somewhere else in the house.
You look to Harry.
Harry looks to you.
“What the fuck,” he whispers, but you can see the excitement weaving through his dimple. “That’s…the coolest shit I’ve ever seen.”
You can’t help but agree, feet drawing you closer, as if compelled by the mesmeric introduction and inviting shadows. “Yeah…”
Footsteps follow you. “Bee, hold on. We don’t know where it goes or if we can get back out.”
Now, you hesitate, considering the rather valid point. “It probably leads to the attic. Caleb said he couldn’t figure out how to get up there, but I’m sure there’s a way back down. There’d have to be.”
“Maybe. Or maybe…that’s where the ghosts are waiting to lure us in—”
“All right,” you hiss, shoving on his arm before continuing for the door. “I will slap that dimple right off your face, I’m serious.”
“Well, you know I like it when you do.”
And even despite his teasing, you feel your stomach flip. Memories calling back to the forefront of your mind as you remember his pink skin and arrogant smirk. The way he’d beg you to keep going – give him more.
“Can you please be serious?” you choose to say, reaching back for his hand as you approach the entrance. “Because if we die in here, I don’t want one of the last things we said to be one of your shitty jokes.”
He laughs, but intertwines his fingers with yours willingly. Squeezing your palm for comfort. “Sorry, lovey. By all means, please do lead us into the deathtrap. You’ll hear no more jokes from me. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“Good boy.”
He squishes your hand again knowingly before you take a deep breath and begin up the stairs.
The walls are about five feet apart in width, providing a rather narrow space for the two of you to slip between as you ascend up into the rest of the house. The path curves like a spiral, up and up until you’re almost sure there’s nowhere else to go. And your head pops right out of the roof.
Then, you come to the last one, and see that it opens up and leads into something else. A vast, empty floor with more light that you’ve seen anywhere else in the house.
Curious, you move a bit faster, eager to see what awaits. And once you step into the room…your breath catches.
Stained glass windows decorate each wall, the full moon projecting the most beautiful colors and imagery across the entire space. From the floor to the ceiling and every inch in between. It’s like walking into a rainbow. Or heaven. Such a stark contrast from the eerie journey up the stairs in nothing but darkness.
Harry’s shoulder brushes against yours as he steps up beside you. Eyes fluttering as he pockets his phone and glances about the room admiringly. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” you agree in a quiet whisper. Walking toward the first window as your fingers outstretch for the tempered glass. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”
“It is.” He follows you. “They must have loved it up here.”
You feel yourself smile. “I bet it was the perfect hideaway.” You motion toward the furthest wall where a dainty (but somewhat tattered) window seat lies. “Bet they came up here and just read or painted all day. Watched the sun rise and set.”
You feel him staring at you. Observing your profile as you continue to glance around, trying to soak in every little detail.
Then, you feel him. His touch sweeping across your cheek before he’s brushing a bit of hair from your shoulder. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”
You glance over.
“About us. Having kids, starting a family.” His expression is void of any of his previous taunting. Instead, solely focused on the soft skin of your jaw as he ghosts his thumb beneath your chin. “Is that what you really want? With me?”
And a part of your heart aches because…yes. You’d live a million lifetimes with him. With kids, without kids. Here, there. Fast-paced or easy-going. You’d do it all. You’d do everything with him.
Everything.
You reach up and slip your fingers around his wrist. Keeping him close as you nuzzle into his palm. “Of course I would, Har. Just want you.”
He steps closer, taking both sides of your face in his hands now as he keeps you in his strong hold. Gazing at you lovingly until you feel your insides twist.
“I will give you anything you want, Bee,” he murmurs, and you can feel his promise dance across your lips. “Give you kids. Give you a big, beautiful home. Give you the life you deserve.”
You inhale quietly, desperately grasping onto his arms.
“Anything you want, baby,” he breathes, and you know how much he means it. “Give you fucking everything.”
Tears spring to your eyes, dancing along your waterline until one jumps down your cheek. Right into Harry’s waiting thumb where he quickly soothes it away. “You know I would,” you tell him in a timid whisper. “I promise, I would, I just…I can’t…”
His eyes soften when he understands, yet his head shakes as he brings your chest to his. “It doesn’t matter how or why. If we want to start a family, we can. Any way we want to. Any way you want to. Nothing else matters, lovey. Just wanna do it together.”
Together.
You stumble over a choked sob, burying yourself in his embrace while he dips down to kiss you. Harder than he has all night and filled with a kind of love that can’t be explained. Only felt through the synchronistic brushing of his lips against yours.
“My girl,” he exhales, nudging his nose along your cheek before bringing his kisses back. “My fucking girl. Know I love you, yeah? Know you’re my only?”
You whimper, nodding pitifully as you allow him to take the reins. Deciding how far and how deep this kiss goes.
“Good.” He drops his hands to your hips, squeezing once. “Because you are, Bee. Never loved anybody the way I love you.”
And you know – you know he means it.
Something clicks in your brain. Something lustful and needy. You’re overcome with this anxious desire to have him. To be with him wholly. You want to crawl into his skin and live there. Be as close to him as possible.
Show him exactly how much he means to you.
The kisses become hungrier. Sloppier. Rushed and borderline animalistic as you reach down and lace your fingers with his. Guiding him away from the wall and toward the carpet in the center of the room.
He seems to understand your intent. Smiling against your mouth as you move him where you want him.
“Sneaky girl,” he breathes, pressing his mouth to your neck. Nipping below your ear until you sigh contently. “S’that why you really wanted to come up here, hm? Wanted to get me alone? Have your way with me?”
And even though he’s effortlessly putting the power in your hands, you can’t help but feel swayed by him. Drawn in by his suggestion and prowess while your stomach flips in on itself.
“Maybe,” you admit quietly, grinning when he chuckles darkly. “Because maybe I know…you want me to have my way with you. Don’t you?”
He nods quickly, groaning almost to himself before he gropes at your waist and moves his kisses to your exposed collarbone. “Do anything you want, Bee. I meant it.”
Pleased, you take yourself away from him. “Good. Because I want you on your knees.”
And he almost looks disappointed that he’s had to stop kissing you, but the starvation behind his eyes is unmistakable.
He drops so quickly, your head spins. Head tilted back and hands obediently landing on his thighs in wait.
“Good boy,” you can’t help but mutter, reaching down to press your palm to his cheek in gratitude. “Always obey me so well.”
“Always,” he repeats reverently. Voice thick as though drunk with longing.
“Can’t take too long, okay? They might come looking for us, and I don’t think we’d ever be able to live that down,” you add, softening your tone some to ease the charged tension.
“I know,” he replies quickly. Almost pitifully, as if desperate to agree and make you happy. “Be quick, I swear.”
A grin splits your face. “Want you to take off your jeans, baby,” you instruct now, nodding toward his hips. “Just your jeans. Don’t want you to get cold.”
So, he does. Fumbling with his belt and button before dragging the dark fabric down his beautiful thighs, revealing his new tattoo. It catches the moonlight and the reflection of the red glass across the room. Drawing in your attention while your mouth nearly waters.
But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead working quickly to rid himself of the material before returning to his knees.
“Good. My jeans next,” you tell him, and he extends his hands toward your waist.
Just as quickly as before, he slips, pulls, and tugs until you can step out of your pants and toss them aside. Making sure to hold your hand as you do so you don’t lose your balance.
It’s these little things that endear you to him. The way he doesn’t even realize he’s done something thoughtful. Instead offering such a gesture out of reflex and love.
“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, squeezing his chin once. “Now…I want you to lie back for me, okay? Don’t want you to do anything else. Just wanna take care of you.”
His Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow, and you can nearly see his heart thumping against his chest. He’s on his back in seconds, obediently lying on the carpet with his focus trained on you. Eager to see what you have in mind.
Truth be told, you’re rather eager, too. Crouching down near his ankles until you can straddle his legs.
He lifts his head off the floor in order to see you, glued to your every move while his breath hitches.
You begin to make your way up his body. Bringing your lips to the beautiful, warm skin of his thighs as you travel toward his hips. Allowing your kisses to guide you.
You hear him release a strained curse. Catching the way his chest rises and falls a bit more rapidly, as if in tune with his racing heart. And you’re going so slow, you think you might kill him. Dragging your tongue along the tattoo before flicking your eyes to his. Making sure you truly have his undivided attention.
His lashes flutter, leg twitching beneath you. “Bee…”
“Yes, baby?” Your coy innocence makes another groan reverberate from his chest. “What do you want, hm?”
“Please,” is all he has the strength to mumble, fingers twitching beside him. Desperate to weave through your hair and tug. “Lovey, please…”
“I know. But I wanna play with you a bit first, okay?” You straighten up and crawl toward the tops of his thighs, just above his dark boxers. “Gonna let me play with you, Daddy?”
Another quick nod before he drops his head back to the floor. Overcome with desire.
And you imagine you know what he thinks you’re going to do. That he’s confident in his guess as he awaits for you to confirm his suspicion.
But there’s something much more thrilling about catching him off guard. Torturing him just a little.
Because you know he loves it.
Once you feel comfortable in your new position, you allow your hand to travel between your legs. Dancing beneath the hem of your sweater before settling atop your baby blue underwear.
Your light grazes are innocent at first. Soft strokes along the cotton fabric. Enough to earn a shiver while Harry’s eyes cement to your hand. Mesmerized by the way you touch yourself.
You hum at the faint but teasing touches. Feeling almost giddy to quench this flame. Create pleasure for yourself and allow him to watch you. See exactly how good it feels.
Then, you hook the fabric to the side, and allow him the perfect visual of your cunt.
You notice a sharp chill as the cold air nips at you, but it only aids in encouraging you further. Making you grin to yourself while you use your other hand to drag your fingers through your pussy. Slipping between your folds and up to your clit.
“Shit,” he murmurs, eyelids growing heavier. “Shit, Bee—”
You circle the sensitive nerves a few times to work yourself up. Indulging in the feel and the unexplainable relief it provides. It’s like a drug. Addicting and somehow not nearly enough.
“Baby, please—” he tries again, palms finally reaching for your thighs in an effort to touch you. At least somehow. “Fuck—”
“Thought you wanted to be good,” you say, pinching your clit until you gasp. “Thought…thought you wanted to give me anything—”
“I do,” he answers through a rushed breath. “Bee, I do. I do, please—”
“Then, I want you to watch. Want you to watch what you do to me.”
He groans again, and you can see the slight pink in his cheeks from the frigid air and the way he’s so entranced with you. “Lovey, please…”
You slip down, teasing the tip of your finger around your fluttering hole until you can feel the arousal beginning to gather. Humming while you roll your hips in tune with your hand. Riding your own fingers before you’re moving back to your clit.
“Har…” His name slips out before you can stop it. Sighing from your tongue without pause. As if it’s instinct to associate him with your pleasure. To say his name in a desperate plea for more.
You feel him squeeze your legs. Tighter than he ever has. “M’here,” he calls. “M’right here, baby. What do you need?”
Too much. “You, Har. You, always.”
He’s pulling on you now. Palms smoothing up the globes of your ass until he can practically yank you closer. “Just ask. Ask me, Bee, and I’ll give it to you.”
And you’re torturing yourself. Perhaps more than him, and you nearly whimper when you realize how badly you miss him.
So, you remove your hands from between your legs in order to reach for his boxers. Slipping inside and pulling his cock out until he lands against his stomach. Beautiful, and flushed, and leaking pearlescent drops that glisten beneath the light of the moon.
And once it’s free, you grind down. Dragging your once more covered cunt along his shaft. Close, but not close enough. Just to provide a bit of friction and make him moan as you brace yourself against his chest.
Your nails curl into the dark material of his shirt, scraping down his stomach as you reel. It’s so much and yet not even close to satiating you. Merely taunting you with the idea of what you really want. A type of release that will never be truly satisfactory like this.
“Fuck—” A lewd moan scrapes from the back of his throat. Hands pressing hard into your hips to help roll you over his cock faster and quicker. “Gonna fucking kill me, Bee.”
You’d like to be smug, but you’re too far gone to feel anything but need. “Har—”
“Gonna cum like this, baby? S’this all it takes?”
“I’m…I…”
“Look so cute, lovey. So fucking cute, using my cock to get off. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Rubbing your pretty little pussy all over me?”
Your eyes roll back, head feeling heavy as your chin drops to your chest.
Then, you feel his thumb against the only part of your clit he can reach. Pressing into it just enough to make you whimper. “Shh. It’s okay, I’ve got you. Wanna cum? Go ahead, you can cum, Bee. Make me so happy…just wanna feel you—”
And you hate how quickly it hits you. Hate that you truly thought you’d be able to edge yourself until you made him break.
But it consumes you from the inside out. Blindsiding your dominance until it sweeps you under his current. You become a trembling, shaking, moaning mess above him.
“There you go. Good fucking girl. So good…s’perfect,” he murmurs, continuing to guide you through it until you nearly collapse. “Feel better, baby?”
You nod weakly, cracking your eyes open just enough to catch his look of approval.
“Good,” he replies before a dark look seems to take hold. Hungrier than you’ve ever seen him.
Suddenly, he’s sitting up. Forcing you to lean back as his arms loop around your waist and he’s hoisting you both into the air. Straightening back onto his feet while carrying you in his arms toward the furthest wall.
You barely get the chance to glance around before he’s dropping you onto the small window seat, right against the painted glass.
With a gasp, you collide with the cushion (which is admittedly much more comfortable than the floor), gazing up at him with surprise and wonder.
He says nothing. He can’t. He’s lost in his need for you – for your pleasure. Crouching down near your legs in order to reach for your panties and rip them from ankles. And once they’ve been tossed aside, he settles his body between your thighs, and surges forward.
His mouth is the closest to heaven you imagine you’ll ever get. Warm and wet and so expertly kind as he drags his tongue between your soaked, sensitive folds. Flicking at your clit before sucking it into his mouth with the kind of sound that makes your chest cave in.
“Har—” you whine, writhing a bit from the overstimulation and intensified pleasure. He’s chasing after your next orgasm before your first has even subsided, and it nearly wrecks you. “Shit, Harry—”
Still, he has no response. There’s no time or room to speak with the way he nips at your cunt before lowering. Letting his tongue slide inside you before pulling it back. Just enough to leave you squirming.
“Harry,” you try again, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair. Tugging with fervor until he does it again. “Fuck…please—”
His hands find your thighs. Pushing them open even further until you can feel the strain on your muscles from such a stretch.
He’s suffocating himself. Buried in your pussy, he takes whatever he wants. Greedily swallowing you down with lascivious groans and exhales of contentment. Fingers curling around your legs, leaving bruises along your sensitive skin.
He’s insatiable. Ignoring your cries and whimpers for mercy, instead pushing you back to the brink. Making you see stars before you can prepare yourself.
You’re all over his face. Can see yourself glisten off his chin and swollen lips, the stunning stained glass windows painting ethereal pictures of him on his knees. Taking you on his tongue as though his life depends on it.
He captures your clit between his teeth and tugs. Eliciting another wounded, pitiful noise as you slump against the glass.
The second orgasm is just as powerful as the first, if not more. Because this time, he’s actually touching you. Blowing on your clit the moment he sees you begin to unravel, effortlessly dragging you into more pleasure.
You scratch his scalp so hard, you’re surprised you don’t draw blood. Practically pulling him through you while you ride his tongue and the wave of euphoria until you come crashing back down to Earth.
“Oh, my god,” you whimper, features contorting with bliss. “Shit, H…please…please—”
But he’s far from through. Already licking the remnants of your orgasm from your quivering hole while you attempt to writhe away. The overstimulation almost painful as tears spring back to your eyes.
“Wait…wait, please,” you whisper, trying to recapture his attention by yanking on his curls and pushing your legs against his hands. “Baby, please…I need you. Need more, H…please.”
He looks up, and you see a glimmer of the moon in his eye. “What do you need more of? Hm? Tell me.”
You let your head drop back against the window, chest heaving beneath your thick sweater. “Har…can’t…I can’t, I need…need—”
“What?” he pushes. And you can hear the smug undertones as well as the reemergence of his cocky dimple. “What, baby? Tell Daddy what you need.”
And he knows what you need. He always knows, even before you do. But he wants to hear you say it. Wants to force the words from your mouth. Wants you to beg him for his cock.
With a heavy sigh, you answer, “You.”
“You already have me.”
You whine and toss your leg over his shoulder. Digging your heel into his spine to encourage him closer. “Need you to fuck me, H. Please…please, fuck me.”
His grin grows. “Well, well, well. Look at that. My sweet girl knows how to use her words after all.”
He crawls up to you, hands settling beside your hips as he leans forward.
“Doesn’t she?” he whispers, allowing his lips to ghost across yours. Teasing you with a taste of yourself.
You feel as though you’re drowning. Unable to capture enough air in your lungs to survive, and you throw your hands around his neck to yank him the remaining two inches.
His tongue feels like heaven against yours. A mix of you and him that you swallow greedily. Wanting more than he’s seeming to give you.
“Please,” you try again. Releasing the ask against his cheek before nuzzling your nose under his jaw. Intoxicated by the scent of him. “Harry…”
He doesn’t have much strength to refuse you. His willpower long forgotten as he quickly obliges and grabs onto your waist to yank you to the edge of the seat.
He then lifts your leg and sets it onto the cushion, bending it at the knee to create the angle he wants. Allowing him enough room to work while he grabs onto his cock and removes his boxers the rest of the way.
Hard and heavy in his hand, he guides the tip between your thighs. Dragging it down your clit almost tauntingly before slipping in. And it’s far too easy. He disappears into our pussy almost unintentionally. Allowing your warmth to draw him in and keep him inside you.
You can’t help the smile that stretches across your face.
“Shit,” he whispers when he feels the way your walls squeeze around his length. You might be used to his size, but those first few seconds are always euphoric. “There you go…you all right, Bee?”
You nod wordlessly, reaching out for his shoulders for something to hold onto.
“I know,” is all he says in response. Able to read your tells better than anyone ever has. “S’all right. I’ve got you.”
Once he’s fully inside of you, he offers a moment of relief. Settling there while his hands return to your hips to lift you up ever-so-slightly in order to use you the way he wants.
“Go,” you beg, nails drawing patterns down his back. “M’okay, go. Wanna feel you. Need to feel you cum.”
“Yeah?” He draws back before driving in. Hard enough to knock a gasp from your chest. “That’s what you want? Want Daddy’s cum in this pretty pussy?”
A blissful haze begins to cloud your vision. His sinfully sweet taunt ringing between your ears. Inciting an idea and a need you hadn’t thought possible.
“Oh…” When he realizes, that wicked look returns. “Oh, baby. You do, don’t you? Wanna be full of me. Want me to fill this sweet, little cunt until you’re dripping. Till I’m spilling out of you. All down your thighs. Down to the floor.”
You make another incoherent noise before succumbing to his hard thrusts. Falling mute and limp.
“Want me to lick it up…just to spit it down your throat,” he continues. “Want me everywhere. In your pussy…in your tummy. Just wanna be so fucking full of me.”
Every word from his mouth is crude and delicious. Designed to torture you and it works.
Because he’s right. You do want him everywhere. Want to feel him across every inch of your skin, inside every pore, dripping from every part of your body. Want to be stuffed with him. His tongue, his cock, his cum. There’s no part of this man you aren’t infatuated by.
“Say it,” he hisses, tugging your body up higher until he can slam into you from a different position. Finding that beautiful spot that makes your toes curl while you cry out and grab onto the seat beneath you for support. “Say how much you want my cum. Beg me for it.”
You can feel the sweat dripping down your back. Can feel the exhaustion in your limbs from having to contain so much pleasure.
And he’s careless yet practiced. Still gentle, even when he’s ramming his hips into yours. Nearly tearing you in half with the force of his cock, but with a sort of devotion you can’t explain. Even with such force, you feel relaxed.
Almost as if this is how you were always meant to be.
And then…something faint. Distant and familiar. The sound of voices – your friend’s voices, coming from somewhere inside the house.
For a moment, you worry you’ve been caught. That they’ve found you and are ready to run screaming from the house.
But you catch pieces of their conversation. Vague and somewhat confusing.
“—well, then, you check. I already tried—”
“—probably just looking around. Maybe they went back to their car—”
“—I’ll text her. They could be lost. This place is huge—”
They haven’t found you. In fact, it seems they’re still searching. Unaware that the two of you found the attic, and perhaps even unaware of the passageway, too.
Harry seems rather relaxed as he pauses just long enough to glance up. A look of understanding forming as he nods toward the ceiling.
You look, too.
The voices are coming from the vent. Echoing the conversation from somewhere else in the house as they walk through.
Your heart races. Because if you can hear them, that means…
He seems to consider this at the same time you do, head cocking deviously as he pulls back. “Shh,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your waist. “Gonna have to be extra quiet for me, okay?”
You take in another deep breath, another whine already bubbling up the back of your throat.
But he realizes this almost instantly. Hand coming up to press against your mouth and muffle your pathetic cry before you can make it. “Uh-uh,” he hisses, attempting to chastise but you can tell he’s amused. “Said no, Bee. Need you quiet or I stop.”
But he can’t stop. You can’t let him stop. You think if he stops, you might die. That you’ll disappear into nothing and spend the rest of your life chasing something only he can offer.
Instead, you grab onto his wrist, and keep it against your lips. Using it as an excuse to whimper against his palm and promise your attempt at silence.
And maybe he’s unconvinced. But he’s just as desperate as you are. To finish and find that serenity. To feel each other in every sense of the word.
So he takes your vow of obedience and continues. Resuming his thrusts as the sounds of voices slowly begin to fade away.
You’re brought right back to the precipice of pleasure. Reminded yet again of why you’d do anything for him. Why he’s so addicting. Not just because of his body…but because his heart.
Shades of blue, red, yellow, and purple explode across the walls and across your eyelids. The colors rich and vibrant, accentuated by the bright glow of the moon.
And you can see him perfectly. Can see his stunningly structured face. The ridge of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw. The damp curls that lay across his forehead and the rosy skin of his cheeks.
You know he’s always been handsome. Not just to you, but to everyone.
But now…he’s ethereal. Because he’s not just some guy. He’s not just Harry. He’s the man you love. The only true home for your soul. Your comfort place, your future.
Your everything.
And that’s what makes him so beautiful.
When he notices your stare, something shifts. He drops his hand, and surges forward to kiss you. Throwing a stutter in his rhythm as he laces his tongue with yours.
“Shit,” is all you manage to make out of his hushed moans. “Gonna give you everything, Bee. Gonna fill you. Keep my cum inside you forever. Fucking forever, baby. M’yours. Always.”
You can feel yourself clenching down on him. Already approaching your third before he’s even allowed himself a first. It’s a trait of his you’ve noticed he exhibits quite often. Perhaps it’s a masochistic practice or perhaps it’s his nature to want your orgasms over his own. Waiting until he’s sure you’re taken care of before he allows himself to find relief.
Yet another one of these little things you’d be lost without.
When he realizes just how close you are, he leans back and brings his lips together. Spitting directly onto your clit before bringing his fingers into play.
“There,” he grits, inflicting quick circles against the tender, swollen nerves that make you whine. “That’s all it takes, isn’t it?”
Your body answers for you. You’re nothing but a string of noises and twitching muscles. Dissolving into your orgasm until that’s all you are. Just his victory. His perfect prize to be claimed.
You feel him watch you. Infatuated with the way you tense and squirm before you finally settle back against the glass to catch your breath.
And perhaps that’s what does it for him. Not just feeling you cum but seeing it. The physical proof of your passion written so visibly across your face. The way you soak his cock, the way you drip down onto the seat below, the way you cling to him.
He chases that sensation. Chases the way it makes him feel and the release it promises him.
It doesn’t take long for him to finish now that he’s not holding himself back. A few quick but hard thrusts and he’s spilling himself into your pussy with a low groan, face burying into your neck.
He holds you still through every second. As close as he possibly can, even after you’re sure he’s finished.
The emotional orgasm feels just as overwhelming as the physical one. You can’t help but wrap your arms around his body to hold him against your heart. Listening to the sounds of his strained breaths before they slowly even out.
And he’s so happy. You know he is. Refusing to move as his cum sits inside of you. Wanting to keep it there like he promised.
You want to keep him the same way.
“Fuck,” you hear him whisper. It seems unintelligible curse words are about all the two of you have to offer in moments like this. It makes you smile. “Think I came so hard, I blacked out.”
You giggle at this, moving to hook your leg around his middle. “I’m glad you came. Feels good.”
He turns his head so his cheek can rest on your shoulder. “Yeah? S’my cum feel nice? All warm inside you?”
And there’s something about the way he says it. Soft but secure. Teasing you and caring for you all in the same breath.
You hum.
“Got it all snug inside your little pussy, baby?” He presses a kiss to your neck. A reassuring gesture meant to reward you. “Gonna keep it for me?”
You nod fervently before clinging onto his body a bit tighter. Feeling a shiver roll down your spine – either from the cold or his response. Truthfully, you aren’t sure.
“Hmm. That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, slipping an arm around your waist in order to hold you closer. Hugging you, almost, as he settles in your embrace. “Guess we better get going, hm?”
But you don’t like this idea. Already feeling your expression fall into a desolate pout as you suck in a sharp inhale and cement yourself to his larger frame.
He senses this shift – this refusal – and stills. “What? What’s wrong?”
You don’t have an answer. You suppose nothing is wrong, per se…as long as he doesn’t leave.
“Bee,” he tries again, a bit firmer. The singular nickname laced with apprehension. “Lovey, what happened, what's wrong? You know you have to talk to me, okay? Have to communicate with me—”
“Nothing,” you whisper, cutting his bargaining short. “Nothing, I just…don’t want you to go, Daddy.”
A brief pause. Silent and filled with an unspoken tension that melts into something tender. “Bee, I’m not going anywhere. Just wanna clean you up and hold you a bit. Like we always do. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
You consider this. You do love when he holds you. Especially when he runs his hands down your sore limbs. Massaging the aches away while keeping you safe in his arms.
The mere thought makes you sigh. “Promise?”
He squeezes your hip. “Always, baby.”
With that, you unhook yourself from his body, and allow him to move back. Taking himself from you almost painfully before he’s putting himself away and moving for your clothes.
He finds your underwear and both pairs of jeans, bringing them back to you almost respectfully.
He helps you step into them, securing your panties around your waist with an impish wink and a soft, “Gonna save it for later, yeah?”
Once you’re both dressed again, he fits himself between you and the window, and places you in the middle of his lap. Your back against his chest while his palms sweep up and down your arms, easing the pains away.
“Was that okay?” he asks after a quiet moment of reflection. “Did you like what we did?”
You drop your focus down to his hands. To the way they look on your body. You hum. Say nothing.
In turn, he shifts, attempting to sneak a glimpse of the side of your face. “Bee, d’you hear me?”
Still, you’re silent. Trailing your finger along his knuckles and over his wrist. Entranced by him. Hypnotized.
He uses this very hand to reach for your jaw. Squeezing it just hard enough to capture your attention and turn your face to his. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Are you all right?”
You feel your frown return, chest tightening with the implication. “Scared? Why are you scared? What…what did I do?”
There’s a subtle pull in his eyebrows. Almost imperceptible but you manage to catch it before it smooths away. “Nothing, sweet girl. But I want to make sure you’re okay. That I didn’t hurt you or take things too far. And if I did, I want to know. I need to know.”
“Daddy, you never hurt me. Ever.” The frown intensifies, nearly taking control of your whole face. “Don’t say that, it makes me sad.”
Again, a flash of confusion and subtle recognition streaks behind his soft gaze. “Daddy just wants to make sure you’re feeling all right. That you feel safe and comfortable with me. Now…and before.”
“Of course I do. Always feel comfortable with you.”
You imagine he should feel relieved to hear this, and yet he sighs as he releases your jaw. “Oh, baby.”
It’s heavy the way he speaks. Akin to disappointment, but there’s a touch of sadness. Perhaps even understanding.
It breeds a constriction in your chest that feels like a snake coiling around your lungs. “What…what did I do? Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” he’s quick to whisper, tightening his hold on you. “God, no, sweet girl. Just realized something, that’s all.”
A tad reassured, you straighten up. “Oh? What?”
He nuzzles his cheek against your temple and pulls you even further into his chest. “Nothing bad, I promise. Just that I need to take extra good care of you right now.”
“Really?
He nods. “Mhm. So, what do you think, lovey, hm? Should we go home? Think we’ve done enough exploring for one day.”
Your lashes flutter, a bit startled by the switch. “We…you wanna leave?”
“I do. I wanna take you home and hold you. Properly,” he says gently, laying a chaste kiss to your forehead. “We can take a bath, get all nice and warm again. Know it’s getting cold, isn’t it?”
Truthfully, you hadn’t realized the drastic drop in temperature. But with this mention, you feel a noticeable chill dancing across the room. Can feel your breath grow icier as it leaves your lips.
“And once we’re warm again, we can crawl into bed, and just stay,” he continues. “Watch a movie, eat some snacks. Do whatever you wanna do, baby. S’that sound good?”
And it does. It sounds like heaven. Anything with him always does. “Can we please?”
He grins again before kissing your temple again. “Of course. We’ll head out now. Think you can walk or do you need my help?”
Your legs do feel a bit wobbly, but in all honesty, the idea of having him hold you all the way down is what you really want. To make sure he doesn’t take himself from you, even if you’re merely walking to the car.
Your innocent pout is answer enough, and he chuckles. “Want my help, don’t you?”
Nodding eagerly, you sit up, allowing him to slip back out from behind you and stand. Once he has, he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, making sure to steady you when you feel a bit rocky before leading you toward the stairs.
You leave the heavenly room behind, bidding the stunning shadows adieu as you disappear down the dark stairwell.
And you hope, if there are ghosts, that they enjoyed the show.
After you’ve returned to the spare room on the first floor, Harry strides over to the bookshelf, and tilts the Frankenstein book back just like he had before. Prompting the portrait to slide closed in the same manner as it had when it opened. Hiding the secret staircase away for the next wandering couple.
Then, he turns to you. “All right, baby, let’s go.”
He crouches down, signaling that he’d like you to climb onto his back again, and you do rather giddily. Cementing yourself to his spine as you cling to him like a koala bear, allowing him to lead you back out into the main part of the house.
You find your friends already waiting by the door, talking casually until they see you coming out from the shadows.
You feel Harry squeeze your ankles as a sign of encouragement and you sigh to yourself while cuddling closer.
“Where the hell have you been, we’ve been looking everywhere,” Jackie calls. “You just left me with these dipshits.”
Harry chuckles. “Sorry. Got a bit lost and then we started talking. Did you find the attic?”
“No,” Charlie huffs, and he sounds rather offended. “I don’t think there is an attic. Think Caleb’s just full of shit.”
“I’m telling you, it’s there,” Caleb argues. “Other people have gone up, I just don’t know how they found it.”
“Huh. Weird,” Harry muses, and you have to turn your face away to hide your smirk. “Well, listen, I think we’re gonna head out. But this was fun. Thanks for the invite.”
“Aw, really? Already? We thought maybe we’d head over to Waffle House or something,” Jackie tells you. “You know, eat a shit ton of whipped cream and syrup in the spirit of Halloween.”
To this, Harry smiles, glancing back at you as if to check for permission and see if you’re interested. But you can’t really offer him much else except a shy grin, which he seems to understand.
“I think we’re just gonna turn in for the night,” he says instead. “But you guys have fun. We’ll have to do this again for Christmas.”
The other three laugh as you call your goodbyes and allow Harry to carry you to the car.
He sets you down by the passenger door in order to unlock it and swing it open. And once it is, he’s still ever the gentleman, helping you sit and making sure you’re buckled in before shutting the door and jogging over to his side.
As he fumbles with his keys and gets the engine started, your eyes trail up toward the top of the large mansion before you. Finding those beautiful windows once more as you bid them goodbye as well.
You feel Harry’s hand slip around yours, recapturing your attention as you look over and catch his grin. “You ready?”
You nod and squeeze his palm three times. “Mhm. Always.”
Pleased, he brings your knuckles to his lips. Leaving a lingering kiss that nearly takes your breath away. “Happy Halloween, Bee.”
And your heart has never felt so full.
“Happy Halloween, Harry.”
HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🧡🧡🧡 (or just regular old Tuesday)!!! Thank you so much for joining me for Freaky Fun and for being so kind and supportive!!! You all have my heart!! Have a safe, wonderful night filled with laughs and amazing treats!! 😭♥️
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist
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Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs
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former lover’s dance | choi yeonjun
summary: choi yeonjun is your average dance instructor in need of a place to stay. you’re a college student majoring in dance, there’s history between the two of you and when you find out you’ll be living together… the chemistry of dance seems to bring you back to each other.
➣ college. roommates. smut. exes.
➣ 10.5k words
warnings: smut. Yeonjun and oc are ex FWBs. roommates. Yeonjun is kinda cocky. oc does not acknowledge him that much. smut in the dance room. missionary. foreplay. unprotected intercourse. public sex. inspired by shoong! — Taeyang and LISA
As much as Yeonjun hates to admit this, he’s not at all surprised by the turn of events. Okay, scratch that, he’s very surprised actually—but not by the way you acted. You seemed to read each other’s minds when you decided to ignore each other and act like you had no idea who the other was. It made it easier for him to deal with this… surprise.
When he first ever saw an ad for a share house he thought it was exactly what he needed. He needed a space but he also didn’t want to pay the expensive price it would be to live alone and having roommates would at least lower the amount. He could survive with shared spaces as long as he had his privacy, right?
Wrong, very wrong, he doesn’t think he can mentally survive this unless he acts like you’re a complete stranger to him.
The problem is, Yeonjun is an asshole and he knows it. That’s why it’s very hard for him to hide his annoyed smirk when you introduced yourself, not bothering to even look at him, but it’s alright. He doesn’t care and if that’s the game you wanna play, he can play it a hundred times better.
“So what are you studying right now? You go to __ University right?” Beomgyu, one of the other housemates asked you. You were the last to arrive on move-in day but Yeonjun isn’t surprised, you’re late to literally everything. Now everyone’s throwing questions that you missed and you looked slightly bored trying to answer them all.
“Dance,” you said, “But I’m only a part-time student because I have a job too.”
“Oh! Yeonjun is a dancer too!” Mira pointed out, and you know she was only being nice and trying to form connections between housemates but it made you want to roll your eyes so fucking bad.
“Have you two ever met? The dancing community can’t be too big,” Beomgyu said looking between you two but you both shook your heads No and refused to speak more on it.
It wasn’t a mutual understanding of each other, it was a mutual disliking for each other.
You didn’t always completely hate Yeonjun but that was probably like two years ago and now everything the guy does just annoys you. The question is why, right?
Well… as embarrassing as this is to admit… the two of you hooked maybe once, twice [?], alright maybe three times before in the past. It was never anything serious, always late at night, usually drunk, a little too flirty, you know how it goes.
Anyway, you know that’s not a reason to dislike someone so you’ll explain what you can about the situation.
Personally, you need reassurance, validation, any sort of answer so that you don’t jump to conclusions and think something is going on when there’s nothing. Yeonjun isn’t like that, he expects you to know what he’s thinking and what he wants even if he doesn’t give you a single hint to what that could be.
That’s why when he came up to you at some party drunk off his ass accusing you of playing him, you had absolutely no idea what he was going on about!
Your hookups were sporadic and your texts few, so how were you supposed to know he wanted to pursue something when he never told you? Yeah alright, maybe you had feelings for him too but then time passed and you thought that was the end of your little rendezvous and moved on like a normal person would.
How were you supposed to know Yeonjun got a big head and expected you to initiate a real relationship with him when you didn’t even know that was something he wanted in the first place?
This is why you hate men.
But enough of that, that was two years ago and you’ve got a bigger problem on your hands:
You’re going to be living with him now.
The first couple of days it was easy for him to act like you didn’t exist. You were all still in the process of moving in and with his dance classes, he was a busy guy. Unlike you, he’s graduated already and on top of that he teaches dance at a local studio. He’s well known too, but he knows that it’s not just because of his dancing, it’s his looks too.
There’s a reason why so many of his dance classes are filled with girls asking if they can partner with him on choreography but he always says no. He has a certain dance style that doesn’t always match well with every dancer and not all can have that sort of chemistry he’s looking for in partners.
The last person he collabed with was… well, you.
He can say how much he dislikes you and he’ll mean it every single time, but he’ll never deny the fact that you’re a good dancer and when the two of you dance together it’s very hard to ignore the chemistry and tension there. Before anyone says anything, no it’s not just because you two were sleeping together at the time—hell, if anything that’s why you slept together.
Beyond the point though, the point is that he's done very well avoiding you and he hopes he can keep it up until the lease ends.
“Alright everyone get in position,” Yeonjun said as he rolled the short sleeves of his oversized t-shirt to his shoulders.
“Are you going to have a partner this time?” One of the dancers asked as they got in order for practice by the number they were given. Everyone was divided into smaller dance units based on skill and synchronization for him to further examine before they shoot their YouTube video.
“No,” Yeonjun answered as he played a song that they would be practicing, Shoong! by Taeyang and LISA. He’s going to teach them the basics today and next time he’ll go into more detail before dividing them all by either partner or trios.
He makes good money off of this, other than paying his dance studio fees, all the rest goes into his pockets and with his YouTube choreography videos and the fact that he currently teaches three classes, he clearly has the funds to live alone. He just thinks that’s boring.
A bird has told him that you also started teaching a class not far from him but he’s not interested in knowing more, he swears.
“Come on Junnie, I want a one on one,” one of the girls he taught stayed behind after class, “I really want to partner up for a video.”
“Sorry Jihyun, I don’t dance with my students,” Yeonjun said as he tried packing up, “Then it’s like I’m giving you favoritism.”
“Nobody has to know,” she said in a soft and feminine voice that had him smiling but not for the reason she hoped for.
“I don’t think so,” Yeonjun said as he closed his duffel bag, “Be careful going home, alright? It’s late.”
Yeonjun is not a changed man by any means, he still enjoys hook up culture but he’s completely barred off his dancers. He’s trying to be professional, he’s danced background for celebrities before and he’s hoping he could get those type of connections for the people he teaches. He doesn’t want to be one of those sleepy instructors who take advantage of all the pretty girls who dance for him.
And before anyone says anything, you did not dance for him. Sure, you’re a bit younger but still relatively close in age so when he met you it wasn’t like he was your dance teacher. You met attending another dance class and were partnered up for a song and things just clicked from there. It was never anything serious between you two so him sleeping with you is not the same as one of his girls coming onto him.
When he got home that night he was past exhaustion. He had a lenient schedule but after teaching his classes back to back, it was tiring. It was late already and he expected everyone to be in their room’s doing their own things but of course things never really go his way when you’re involved.
He rolled his eyes the second he saw you in the kitchen and went straight to his room. Yeonjun planned on staying there the entire night until his stomach growled and his snack stash was gone. With an annoyed huff, he left his room in hopes that you weren’t there but life sucks and there you stood.
Your nose scrunched in disgust but it wasn’t because of the fact that he clearly just got done with dance practice and reeked of sweat. He moved around you as he looked for something to eat in the dead silence that you two created on your own accord.
“Y/n, when did you get home?” Taehyun asked and your face lit up immediately. You’ve become school buddies ever since you found he was your junior—but only by a little. You went to school together and on the days you had class you agreed to go together.
“Just now, I got off work late,” you told him as he came over to see what you were making. It was a very sad excuse for ramen and Taehyun didn’t hide the look of sympathy he sent you when he saw it. He chose to turn to Yeonjun instead, “You just got here, too?”
“Yeah, I was teaching my class,” Yeonjun mumbled as he served himself a bowl of cereal.
“What song?” Taehyun asked. Unlike you and Yeonjun, Taehyun is interested in getting to know his housemates. He doesn’t have many friends aside from Kai so he doesn’t see why he shouldn’t try and get to know everyone better.
“Shoong!” Yeonjun said as he stuffed his mouth with Lucky Charms.
Taehyun smiled, “Are you doing a duet with someone?”
“Nope,” Yeonjun said as you turned the stove off and finished preparing your own late dinner, “Not everyone can comprehend what I want.”
Taehyun looked between you two, finding it hard not to notice that since everyone moved in, you’ve both been very closed off from each other. Call him nosy but that’s because he is.
“Maybe you just expect people to know what to do without actually telling them what it is,” you finally said and he is not at all surprised that the first thing you’ve said to him all week.
“Maybe people should just use common sense and context to know what I mean,” Yeonjun said and yes, he knows that at this point he’s just being petty but who cares. If that’s the first thing you want to say to him then he has absolutely no problem serving the dish right back to you.
“Common sense would be actually using words to tell someone what you want an—“
“Alright, alright,” Taehyun intervened with a nervous chuckle, “Um… I want to see the dance when it’s done but um, I think I’m gonna go to bed early.”
Neither of you reacted as you stared each other down, waiting for the other to look away first.
“So you’re done ignoring me now?” Yeonjun finally said and there was no way for you to ignore the sarcasm laced in his voice. It made you roll your eyes as you said, “Probably not.”
“You know you don’t have to act like you don’t know me,” he said and he knew he was being a hypocrite. He’s been doing the same thing, the only difference is that he’s called you out on it first.
You shrugged, acting indifferent, “You’re the one who said you didn’t care if I ever spoke to you again, like the drama queen you are.”
Yeonjun scoffed, no longer as hungry as earlier, “That’s because you started avoiding me.”
“How? Because I didn’t text you? You didn’t text me either, remember?”
“Actually, I did text you but you were too busy flirting with another guy at a party,” Yeonjun said, clearly annoyed now and ready to argue.
“We weren’t even dating,” you said with another shrug that made his blood boil at the thought being brushed off. With a scoff, he dumped his milk down the drain and stood next to you, “I didn’t think that mattered when you were in my bed the fucking night before.”
“First of all, who told you I was flirting with some guy?” You asked with furrowed brows clearly confused, “And why is it my fault when you never told me you wanted to get serious? I’m not a mind reader so stop blaming me—“
“You’re right, you’re right. I’m so sorry Y/n, nothing is ever your fault.”
He stormed off to his room and unbeknownst to you both, there was a very nosy housemate with his ear pressed against his bedroom door listening to the whole thing.
Okay, maybe you weren’t fully honest in the beginning. You know that you were equally to blame for why you and Yeonjun never worked out but you were also very different people when it came to expressing yourselves. He doesn’t feel the need to use words for assurance and you’re the opposite.
It’s a beige flag of yours, not green or red. You just don’t want to assume something without being told anything about it. Yeonjun never said anything so you never acted like you two were going to become anything more than what you already were. Still, it’s not fair for him to act like he was always very vocal about what you two had.
Plus, to make things clear, you and that guy Yeonjun said you were flirting with? Yeah, that’s just Beomgyu, your friend and he would know that too if he asked you instead of just listening to whatever a random person told him about you flirting that night. You just gave up on feeling like you should explain yourself to him when clearly he wasn’t listening to you at the time.
You just didn’t feel the need to explain yourself to a guy who clearly wouldn’t listen either way so in the end you let him think whatever he wanted to and dropped him.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Beomgyu asked you as you plopped down on the chair next to his. You were supposed to be meeting your friend in the library, not immediately being made fun of the second you sit down.
Choosing to ignore his obviously rude comment about your distress, you chose to say, “I just found out what my final is.”
Beomgyu gave you a dumb look waiting for you to elaborate. You rolled your eyes because sometimes your friend annoys you just by looking at him, “I have to make a dance for the summer seminar.”
“That’s easy though so why do you look so dumb?” Beomgyu asked and you leaned across the small coffee table filled with textbooks to smack him.
“It is easy but we have to do a collaboration for the dance and people must hate me in class because everyone partnered up and left me out,” you ranted to your friend who smacked his lips.
“They’re probably just intimidated because you’re so good,” he sent you a wink and although he’s trying to make you feel better all it did was make you think about those moms who tell their daughters that the reason every girl hates them is because they’re pretty and not because they’re a bad person.
You don’t think you’re a bad dancer by any means but you do think that you tend to close yourself off from everyone. It can come off cocky and arrogant when you prefer to stick to yourself and dance alone but you don’t mean it like that. You just don’t want to disappoint someone else so you tend to avoid doing anything as a group or duo. Clearly you bit yourself in the ass here.
“So what are you gonna do?” Beomgyu asked when his attempt at flattery fell on deaf ears.
“Well I asked if I could do a solo and the bitch said no because it had to be a collaboration but she did say if I find someone to dance with she’ll let me perform,” you explained to him, “And it can be someone who’s not a student but it would basically need to be recorded in some way so that it’s obvious I took part in creating the choreography.”
“You know who you can ask?” Beomgyu asked and part of you knew what he was going to say before he even said it.
“Yeonjun.”
“No,” you shook your head, “I haven’t danced with him in two years and we’re not on good term—“
“Yeah but you live together and he’s a choreographer too,” Beomgyu said, being the voice of reason that it pissed you off, “You two can hate each other all you want but when it comes to dancing you have a mutual understanding of what works and what doesn’t.”
“He won’t help me,” you tried to say but your best friend only rolled his eyes.
“Have you asked?”
With an annoyed smack of your lips you looked away from mumbling about how much you hated Beomgyu for possibly being a genius. You would need to ask your advisor if it would even work with Yeonjun and if she gives the okay then maybe you can try and ask?
You just don’t see him saying yes.
Yeonjun is annoyed, very very annoyed with himself to the point where he can’t even hide it. All of his students knew he was mad and they probably thought it was toward them but it really wasn’t.
It’s just that Yeonjun had a vision for this dance and it’s just not going the way he would like it to. He knows that it doesn’t have to be perfect but he wants it to be. He’s got a good YouTube following and out of all dances, if he fucks up this one then he knows there will be a lot of hate in the comments.
He can’t get Lisa’s part right no matter how hard he tries and he can’t expect the dancers to know how he wants it to be done if he doesn’t have someone to help him show them how to do it. He needs someone who knows how to appeal to their charms and move sensually and a bit hypnotizing to match the lyrics. He needs someone who he can dance with and be able to portray the exact story he’s trying to tell with this dance and it can’t just be anyone. If he chooses one of his random dancers and there’s a clear lack of chemistry then it’ll just look stiff.
He knows what kind of dancer he’s looking for but no way in hell is he gonna do anything about it. His only option is to be mad and postpone the dance until he can get it just right.
“So how’s the share house?” Soobin asked him as they went into a convenience store for some cheap snacks, “Wait, let me word it differently, how’s the share house with Y/n?”
“Fine,” Yeonjun said as he added a couple drinks into his basket, “We don’t talk.”
It’s true, aside from that time in the kitchen the two of you barely spoke. It probably had something to do with the fact that Kai is very obviously trying to probe you two into talking so his nosiness is cured but it was only making you shut off more.
Aside from his whole thing with you, he’s actually very content with his living arrangement. Kai is like a little brother that annoys him but he still likes hanging out with him at the house. Mira is a grad student in med school so she’s rarely home but she’s nice and quiet and always clean. You… sometimes you’re rarely home between work, school and avoiding him, he never has to worry about you so that’s a plus.
Of course sometimes it’s still awkward but that’s only because he’s seen what your body looks like completely undressed underneath him but he’s an adult, he can look past that.
Your little game of acting like you never met was short lived though since Taehyun was very quick to catch onto you two but he still doesn’t know why exactly you acted like strangers.
“Alright but how is not talking to Y/n working out for you?” Soobin asked and it made Yeonjun laugh.
It was two years ago, he moved on past that and Soobin knows this. The only reason why it’s being brought back up is because he hasn’t been this close to you in two years. Obviously he had to see you during that time because you’re technically in the same career path but he never had to actually interact with you. Living with you has completely changed that and he has to see you in the morning and night time so it does change things. He gets why Soobin is bringing you up but Yeonjun wishes he wouldn’t.
That’s why he’s laughing, it just seems ridiculous to suddenly make everything about you the second the two of you reconnected, “It’s just the same as it’s been the last two years.”
Soobin looked at him with narrowed and suspicious eyes but just sighed, “If you say so.”
Yeonjun was done talking about you as he carried his things to the checkout line.
When he got home that night he didn’t expect to see a somewhat familiar face in the kitchen.
The house was big, huge actually and it was normal for one of you to bring a guest over but Yeonjun hasn’t seen him since the last time he was at your place.
Beomgyu looked up at him with a jump as Yeonjun took his shoes off at the door. He waved a hesitant hand in his direction as he closed the fridge door holding your drink in his hand. Beomgyu cleared his throat, “Hey.”
“Hey,” Yeonjun said casually as he went over to the guy and greeted him like they were friends. In truth he has absolutely nothing against Beomgyu. They only met a couple times when he was hanging out with you and he thought he was a good guy. Of course when Yeonjun stopped talking to you he stopped seeing Beomgyu too but it wasn’t a loss of any sort. Beomgyu felt the same too because unlike you, he could see where you both made faults and despite being your friend it’s not like he had a reason to completely despise the guy. You can say all you want about Yeonjun but he knows that you don’t hate your old fling.
“Gyu!” You yelled with a huff as you got off your bed and walked downstairs to the kitchen, “Where the hell is my drink!?”
Beomgyu rolled his eyes, “I’m not your errand boy if you wanted it to be quick you could’ve come yourself!”
When Yeonjun heard you he took it as his sign to leave but he still ended up meeting you at the stairs. You caught him by surprise when you spoke up as he attempted to walk past you.
“Did you just get home?”
It was so simple and yet he was so taken back by it that he nearly fell on his face when he tripped, “Me? Yeah, I went to the store.”
That was all you were going to ask him about and before he could ask you something in return, you were already leaving. He went to stop you but he didn’t know why, so instead he just left and acted like it didn’t happen.
Living with four people wasn’t as hard as you would think. Yeonjun wouldn’t even say he’s still annoyed to be living with you because you’re just his roommate and nothing else. You talk but it’s not about anything, only casual conversations in passing.
Taehyun always went to his room to bother him because they’ve become actual friends apart from housemates but he still can’t say the same about you. That’s why he was very surprised to see you at his door.
To make things more awkward, he’s just come out of the shower, and thinking you were Taehyun—he was just in his sweats. His hair was wet and dripping down on his shoulders and he was closing the door right in your face telling you to hold on.
You rolled your eyes at the shy way he acted despite quite literally being inside you but you couldn’t deny the blush that raised in your cheeks. Obviously this situation is very different though and you haven’t been in good words so you were fine with him slamming the door in your face to finish changing.
Yeonjun hurried to open the door back up, “What’s up?”
“Can I come in?” You asked, making him move to the side and let you through. You went in and immediately took a look at your surroundings. You’ve been in Yeonjun’s dorm before but this was very clearly different and that was a while ago anyway.
You pointed to his bed as if asking if you could sit and he nodded his head letting you go while he went to his desk and picked up his towel again. He had to finish drying off his hair and it would work as something he could fidget with while you talked.
He had absolutely no idea what you were going to say.
“I’m going to keep it straight with you,” you said, taking a nervous breath, “I need your help.”
“With?” Yeonjun asked with a confused expression. After being so petty toward each other you still weren’t shy to say you need his help? That’s what made him curious to know what you had to say.
“Ugh,” you groaned, “Well, uh, um…”
Sike, he thought, you’re definitely a little nervous to be asking him this right now and you still don’t know how to say it.
Yeonjun pretended to be annoyed, “Spit it out.”
“Ineedyoutodancewithme.”
“What?” Actually, he understood you clearly.
You rolled your eyes because you know he understood and he was still smirking in your face waiting for you to repeat it. Instead you said, “You're annoying.”
“You’ve called me worse,” Yeonjun with a shrug as he gave up on keeping distance and let himself fall back against his pillows and headboard, “Anyways, why do you need me to dance with you?”
You released an exaggerated sigh, “For the summer seminar, nobody wanted to collab with me—“
Your words were cut off as Yeonjun nearly spit on your face from failing to hold back his laughter. Without thinking you snatched a pillow and chucked at him—for a moment forgetting that the two of you didn’t get along anymore. He grabbed the pillow before it can hit him and set it down on his lap, “That’s because you’re a bitch to work with.”
“You know what? Fine, I rather fail this stupid final than beg you to dance with me,” you were clearly irritated but you couldn’t storm off like you so badly wanted to because he held your wrist to stop you.
He had a lazy smile on his face as he dragged you back to the bed and you would be lying if you said you’ve seen that look before. He chuckled, “Relax, I liked dancing with you.”
“So you’ll help?”
“Yes,” Yeonjun said as he let go of your wrist to sit up better, clearing his throat as he said, “And actually, this uh, this really benefits me right now.”
“How?” You asked him even though your insides were turning over from how happy you were. You can’t believe he actually said yes, and he’s perfect. Your professor will find credibility in him and she’ll see you create the dance with him through his video camera.
“I’ve been blanking so hard on the dance I wanted to do for a video, I’ve changed the choreo twice already,” Yeonjun said honestly, “I can’t get the girl’s part right and um, you know… I was thinking of asking you too.”
Ugh, you both nearly gagged because clearly time hasn’t changed the fact that when it comes to dance your minds think alike. Maybe that’s why you thought it would work in a sex life too.
“What song?”
“Is this a bad time?”
You both looked to the door looking like deer caught in headlights and Taehyun only stared at you two with amusement. Yeonjun wanted to chuck the kid out of his bedroom window for obviously seeing the two of you having a conversation and still choosing to interrupt. It’s not like Taehyun doesn’t know that you two haven’t spoken more than a few words since you moved in a couple months ago. Why did he have to come and ruin it aside from being a little shit?
“And I’m leaving,” you sighed dramatically knowing it would get a reaction out of Taehyun as you got up, “Guess we’ll have to do it next time.”
“Do what?” Taehyun asked as you shut the door with your leave, whipping his head back to Yeonjun his eyes went wide, “Do what? What were you guys gonna do? Oh my god, I thought you hated each ot—“
Taehyun slammed into the door in exaggeration as the pillow you once threaded Yeonjun with hit him right in the stomach.
Yeonjun won’t admit this to your face but boy is he happy that you’re dancing with him. It’s only been two days and already the choreography for Shoong! is coming out so well. The tripod was set up with his camera but he only recorded certain parts to save memory. He’ll send you the videos in the end and you’ll see how it comes out.
You both have spent the last two nights staying at the studio past midnight trying to perfect this for his video since that comes out sooner. You’ve pretty much figured it all out except Lisa’s part. You and Yeonjun were so used to working together that making a dance was so fast and easy because you understood the image you were trying to tell.
Once this is complete you’ll join him in a class or two to help teach the partner’s part in Lisa’s verse.
There’s only one downside to this arrangement and it isn’t bad or anything, but at the same time he thinks it is.
He’s never struggled dancing with another person especially as a back up dancer but like he’s said before, he’s not always as comfortable or intimate. That’s not a problem he’s having here considering he happens to know your body very well and how it moves against his. It’s bringing out some old feelings that he would prefer would just disappear.
You danced the beginning of Lisa’s part which was more of a so for you and Yeonjun danced further behind but not as the center. You were basically the one leading him for this part and there was no denying that tension was coming back. The way he looked at you as you pointed a crooked finger in his direction practically calling him over to you until your bodies pressed together to the choreography.
When it got to the part in Lisa’s verse where she sang:
‘You pull up in the lambo’ Yeonjun had managed to get behind you but not fully as he pressed your back into his side while doing a steering motion with right hand. His hand was down at your waist as he follow the best of the music and matched a swift circle of your waists together that matched the motion of your pretend steering as you practically grinded against him when he bent his knees to match you.
Right when that line ended you dropped down to your knees swiftly as you raised your hips back up following the hand he had grazing your side as if he was raising them off the ground himself.
You finished off the rest of her part on the floor until the male’s part started again and Yeonjun raised you off the floor by pulling on your hand until your bodies pressed against each other again before finishing off a synchronized dance.
When the soft voice of Taeyang sang the repeating shoong! lines, your hips met again and Yeonjun trailed a finger down the length of your arm sensually before bending you back to rest your head on his chest and end with an intimate sway of your hips together before the beat picked up for the outro.
By the end of the one on one practice you both were out of breath and you would be lying if you said it was just the dancing that caused it.
This is what he was worried about. In the back of his head he knew he wouldn’t be able to dance with you again without wanting to do all the things you did in the past. There was just no way he could feel the way your body fit perfectly with his without being reminded of what it was like to feel it closer. He knew you felt the same too because you couldn’t stop looking at him with those eyes that got him every damn time.
You cleared your throat, “One more time.”
That was all he needed to hear before playing the song from the beginning once again.
By the end of that night the two of you were too pumped up to go to bed. Usually after a night of practice you both were too tired to do anything but wash up and go to bed, tonight was not one of those nights apparently.
“Fuck I can’t get the song out of my head,” Yeonjun laughed quietly as he let himself fall into the couch in the living room. You both went home together for obvious reasons and it was so late that you were completely alone downstairs. Mira was most likely at her boyfriend’s place and Kai was probably playing his game so damn loud he couldn’t even hear his own yelling voice.
You still shushed him as you sat next to him, “Shh.”
“I can’t help it,” he whined like he was drunk and it was very amusing. He feels like he’s drunk, he hasn’t felt this comfortable dancing with someone in a while and it’s you of all people.
He really does have the song stuck in his head and was all because of the way you danced to it. He can’t stop thinking about the glide of his hand down your hips again. A feeling he’s all too familiar with.
“Wanna order pizza?” Yeonjun asked suddenly but you didn’t even act taken back.
“It’s midnight,” you whispered to him and he just smirked. You looked at his pretty face, “It’s not healthy to eat so late.”
He leaned toward you and mimicked your whisper, “When has that ever stopped anyone from ordering pizza?”
“Okay fine, order it, but I wanna shower while we wait for it to get here. Hurry up though or I’ll go to bed,” you said and he only grinned wider.
“Yes ma’am, I’m right on it,” he teased as he went on his phone knowing you most likely rolled your eyes at him. You’re being bossy with him again and he knows that it’s because you’re comfortable telling him something. It’s like a form of love language with you, you treated Beomgyu the same and you used to treat Yeonjun like that again.
Fuck, why is he overthinking it?
He shouldn’t like you like that again.
Things were going too fast again. This is what happened last time and there was no way you can say it’s not happening again. It’s because you started dancing with him again, that’s why he’s been all you could think and you just know he’s feeling the same.
You’ve spent an entire week perfecting the dance and each night the touches linger a little longer than before. You have also been seeing him around the house a little more and this time he’s not shying away from hanging out in your room on your bed talking about choreography—it’s not your fault if the subject would change throughout the night.
You just forgot how easy it was to talk with Yeonjun. He was a little sarcastic and mean but so were you and you hated that he could actually make you laugh.
“Alright everyone, this is Y/n, she’s helped me with the choreography and we’re about to show you the full dance right now,” Yeonjun said with a cocky grin as he pulled you into his side with his hand on your waist. You were trying to put space between you but he wasn’t letting that happen and he only smiled teasingly when you whined.
‘Is that his girlfriend?’
‘I thought he didn’t like dancing with partners.’
‘They seem so close, look at his smile.’
When the music began to play it was like you two were in your own world together. Yeonjun didn’t hesitate letting his hands touch your body when needed or get as close to you as the choreography intended. It was very obvious to everyone who watched that he was close to you in some way to have this much chemistry when you danced.
Also, the way he looked at you when the two of you were face to face was with a jaded breath that made him smile when you did the next move. By the end of the dance an eruption of cheers filled the dance rooms as you smiled cheerfully at him for completing it.
To be honest, Yeonjun wasn’t listening to what was happening around him. Instead he was more focused on keeping you close to him as everyone talked around him with music blaring loud enough to create a buzz. His attention was more on not letting you slip away as he found himself saying, “One kiss?”
Your eyes bulged in surprise as a hand of yours came up to his chest trying to push back gently even with his arms snug around your waist. You looked around the room, “Not with everyone here.”
He smirked as he looked down at you with a dazed look, “That’s not a no.”
This is what happens between you two. Despite arguing and avoiding each other, any time the opportunity comes you just can’t seem to help from wanting to touch again. Yeonjun was feeling extra bold right now because he always enjoys how good your body feels against his when you dance. It makes him want to relive whatever you had two years ago. When he called for a short break before they went back to practicing he didn’t know it was because he really wanted you to himself right now.
He licked his lips, “Just one kiss, Y/n.”
“Why do you want a kiss so bad?” You asked jokingly as you looked at him curiously. You arched a brow as he shrugged his shoulders, still moving you along his body acting like he doesn’t have a class full of dancers to teach at the moment.
“I like kissing—“ Yeonjun’s words immediately died down when he felt your soft lips press a light kiss on his neck as you stood on your tiptoes to reach up. He was taken off guard at the first feel of your tongue licking along his neck before closing your mouth in a kiss and his hold on you tightened. Just as he was getting ready to tilt your chin up and connect your lips with his, you pulled back, already trying to get away from him.
Yeonjun wrapped a hand around your wrist keeping you from moving across the room to the speaker, “That’s it?”
“Breaks over,” You tilted your head to the side giving him a look he understood and let you go. He gets it, it’s sudden and the way the two of you had acted wasn’t just something that can be forgotten through a dance. He just can’t help that these last moments where he’s been with you for practice, at home, and now are making him want you all over again.
He watched you go as he ran his fingers through his hair was an exasperated sigh, “Alright! Who’s ready to start practice?”
His eyes couldn’t drift away from you as you stood a few feet away from him and he’s positive everyone can note how he had his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He wasn’t even hiding the fact that he was falling for you again.
At the end of practice he was feeling exhausted and a bit worked up. The amount of times he got to feel you tonight under the guise of dance practice was enough to make his numbers feel numb and one again he found himself going to you. You knelt down by your dance bag in front of the large mirrors and he came up next to you making you look up.
“I know what you’re thinking, Junnie,” the nickname slid off your lips as you packed your things, “And it’s not a good idea.”
“One kiss won’t change anything,” Yeonjun persisted as he leaned against the mirrored wall. You looked at him with an arched brow and he knew you caught his bluff and it made him smile more, “I swear.”
“That’s what we said last time and then what happened?” You asked standing up in front of him, “Someone made assumptions and then flipped out on me.”
He rolled his eyes at the reminder, “And how long ago was that?”
“Pretty sure a few weeks ago you were mad about it,” you teased even as you traced a finger down his chest, “So do you think it’s a good idea to do it again?”
“I do,” Yeonjun said, letting his hand go down to your hip, “And I know you want to kiss me too.”
You sighed in thought as you looked up at him and he didn’t tear his gaze away. All it took was the warmth of your hand finding his jaw for him to dip his head down and let your lips brush against each other gently. When you didn’t immediately pull away, he took action and fully pressed his mouth to yours in a soft kiss.
Yeonjun didn’t hesitate to let both hands slide down your hips toward your back and pulled you more flush against him leaving no room between your wanton bodies as your tongue slipped past his lips meeting his softly. Your arms wrapped around his neck trying to pull yourself up to kiss him better and he eagerly granted you more access. It was a sight to be seen, the way his jaw moved so effortlessly, tongue kissing you.
There was a small pause, pulling away to catch your breaths and this should have been a moment to reflect. You both knew what this could possibly mean for you two. It was like starting all over from when you first started hooking up and how easy it was for you to go together. The problem is that you two aren’t good at communicating when it didn’t have to do with sex. The thing is, the two of you are making out in the dance practice room where there were no windows or cameras and the only thing you can see is your reflections in the mirrored walls.
“We’ve never done it in a practice room,” Yeonjun said clearly reading your mind and it made you whine into his chest.
“Yeonjun…” you want to do this with him again but you live together now. That brings a whole different set of problems for you and the people you’re living with if you start messing around again. Yeonjun knew this too but frankly, he didn’t care. He wanted you.
Despite your clear hesitation, it didn’t stop you from bringing him back into a kiss as your back pressed into the wall of mirrors with him in front of you. He smiled into the kiss as he deepened it, dipping his head low and trapping you between his arms. He kissed down your neck, sucking softly on a spot he was very familiar with and knew it would have your body writhing against him. Your hands tugged on his shirt rushing him but he was not complaining. You both were eager to get your hands on each other after so long.
He yanked it off feeling your hands fly to his belt loop but he stopped you again. He was slightly out of breath as he spoke, "Y/n..."
You looked at him waiting to see what he had to say but I stead he traced his hands down your sides as he dropped down to his knees making your lips part in surprise. He was quick in yanking down your tiny shorts and kissing whatever part of your body that was exposed to his needy gaze. He pulled your underwear down too and didn’t hide the way he licked his lips at the sight before him.
Yeonjun wasn’t moving and it was making you feel a bit shy so you found yourself with your hand in his hair and pulling it. He looked up at you with lust blown eyes and his pretty lips parted in a gasp at the pull making you look away from his strong gaze, “Are you just going to keep staring?”
A smile appeared on his face as his soft hands pinched your hips dragging your lower half closer, he motioned for you to spread your legs further and as you did that he leaned even lower, eyes focused on your wet pussy now that he can see it better, “This isn’t just from right now is it?”
As he said that he let one of his hands slide over your pelvis and a finger dip between your folds watching the silky strings of arousal coat it. You huffed in annoyance, “It’s your fault for being so fucking touchy this entire practice.”
With a soft hum, he said, “Let me take the blame then.”
His mouth closed over the stiffened clit so suddenly that it drew a gasp from your lips and your head to tip back against the mirror. Yeonjun is never the one to take things slow, usually liking the element of surprise in catching you off guard by his forward movements. Your hands tugged on his hair with every languid move of his tongue over your wet folds, quite literally lapping up your slick like he was thirsty for more and you had no doubt in your mind that’s exactly what this was. It’s been two years and yet you’re still his favorite pussy to eat and he just can’t get enough.He was lost in his own world, hips rutting into nothing as his tongue worked to taste your raw essence and flick at your clue just the way he knew you liked. He knew how to read your body better than anyone else and it should be a crime that the two of you were too annoyed with each other to do this when you moved in together.
His thick tongue never once slowed down its flicking between your folds and not long after he was pushing it into your warm hole. He was quite literally tongue fucking you with his eyes on you the entire time trying to fish out the perfect reactions. With an annoyed roll of his eyes he reached up with a hand to pinch at your shirt signaling for you to take it off and you did just that. You skipped it off letting it fall over your bag and took the initiative to remove your bra too and it had him fucking you with his tongue with more vigor.
You were in euphoria with moans tumbling out of your soft lips and his mouth slobbering all over your cunt made you want to fuck back into his face. He swirled over your sensitive bud lathering it in his own drool as he brought a hand up your body to feel up your breasts making you moan a little louder than intended. It only made the hand on your tits rougher as your hips began to meet the wave of his head with each thrust of his tongue into your pussy.
"Yeonjun—" you moaned softly, hands in his soft hair keeping him in place.
He licked his lips as he pulled back, “You gotta keep it down, baby, you don’t want someone walking in on us, do you?”
“Let them,” You rolled your eyes, and placed a hand over his head and led him back down to your pussy. Too distracted by the thought of making you cum on his tongue and your eagerness for the same, he did just that. He focused on your clit, tongue flattening over it and shaking his head from side to side feeling your walls tighten, repeating the action over and over again. He felt it too, he knew your body’s responses and he knew you were close. All it took was a little suck on your pretty clit for your release to hit you. It didn’t slow down his ministrations as he continued to lick up your climax despite your legs shaking and your hand searching for something to hold onto as you moaned wantonly. Your slick began to drip down his chin but he didn’t stop until there was nothing left to drink, breathing heavy as he swallowed everything you gave him.
When you had enough you yanked his head back by the hair and looked at his fucked out expression just from eating you out.
With weak legs you slowly made yourself to the floor and Yeonjun made room for you only to direct you to lay down. You smacked your lips in annoyance, “Why am I the only one naked?”
“Because you haven’t taken this off me,” he said with a teasing smile and you sat up to pull his shirt off.
You made his breath hitch you quickly yanked on his pants nearly making him stumble into as you lowered them down. His muscles tended at your toughness and helped you kick them off before releasing a soft whine as he tried leaning down to kiss you again. You met him halfway, a messy tongue kiss mixed with the taste of your arousal and spit. With him distracted by your makeout you slowly began pushing him back until he got the hint and laid down on the cold dance floor with you over him.
His eyes fell shut feeling your lips kiss down the expanse of his neck to his pretty collarbone and down his chest. Your hand was quicker than your lips at trailing down his body and soon he felt it slide over his hardening member with a couple experimental strokes, his mouth drawn open in a silent moan. He released a shaky breath as your face closer to his tip, licking it gently, teasing him. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his cock, licking along his base to his tip stopping at his head to let a pool of spit spill past your lips and onto his dick. Without further thought, you swallowed more of his length past your lips and watched his eyes scrunch closed in pleasure.
“So good,” he said licking his plump lips and bit down hard to fight back a loud groan when you held him at his base and began to bob your head along his length with a good pace. You had your other hand on his thigh, nails digging in just slightly because it made his cock twitch every time and you jerked off what didn’t fit in your mouth.
Yeonjun watched the way his cock disappeared into your mouth with a slack jaw as if he still can’t believe you make him feel this good every time you go down on him. It was embarrassing how quick you always brought him to orgasm.
You took steady breaths through your nose doing your best to relax your throat and flatten your tongue. His head fell back with a pleasured sigh when he felt you begin to take heavier breaths sliding down his length until his tip hit the back of your throat. You roughly swallow around him, suppressing a gag as you resume to deep throat him, spit bubbles gathering around his length.
"Oh fuck," he groaned, moans were pouring out of his mouth, no longer caring if anyone in another room heard, “I’m close. Get on top.”
It took you a minute to move off and every second you stayed sucking his cock was another annoyed moment that passed him trying to get you off. With a pop of your mouth, you quickly pulled off trying to catch you breath as he sat up and brought his mouth to yours, “Ride me, you know I love it when you’re on top.”
You were well aware that there was no chance he had a condom on him but this wasn’t the first time you have had unprotected sex and honestly, it probably won’t be the last. That’s the only reason why you didn’t hesitate to lead him back to lay down as you straddle his hips, eyes on his stiff cock that pointed up.
Yeonjun’s hands lightly trailed your sides, licking his lips as he stared down at where your drenched pussy hovered over his dick and he felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine. With a hand on his base to keep himself pointed up, he watched as you lined yourself up with him and took his head in. He quickly looked at you as your mouth drew open, sinking down on his length, your body not a stranger to his size, relaxed around him.
"Yeonjun," you whined at the first expert roll of his hips, digging his cock a little further into your walls once he knew you were ready and very needy to feel him. He didn’t start off slow either, he guided your hips to ride him roughly the way he knew you both liked and when you nearly fell forward only using your hands to hold yourself up, he met you halfway and went straight for your breasts. He nipped at the bud playing with it as he looked up at you to the best of his ability.
Yeonjun couldn’t help it, you were in a room full of mirrors and he just couldn’t help it. He found his eyes straying toward the closest mirror and they rolled at the sight. Your back was arched like a kittens, his hands groping handfuls of your ass and mouth hungrily sucking on your nipples knowing how much you liked it. Your hair fell around him and you just looked so pretty that he knew he wouldn’t last.
“Ugh,” you groaned when the pace had slowed by him being distracted staring at your reflection and with a light shove off him he let go only to let you sit up again. You looked over at the mirror as you sat up in a right angle and adjusting your legs to help you better, you raised your hips fully before dropping back down onto his length with a little grind.
“Fuck,” he growled, hand moving off your ass and slapping it just so he could watch the way it jiggled when you rode him, "Just like that, look at this slutty body. Fuck, I love it.”
“Did you miss it?” You asked with arrogance at the lustful, hungry gaze he looked at you with and as if to push him more for an answer you leaned forward, breasts in his face and never stopping your bouncing hips. He nodded almost submissively before his brows knitted together in concentration and fucked you back, hard.
Before you could react, Yeonjun was flipping you onto your back hitting the dance floor and taking the lead to stuff you full of cock. You sighed as you wrapped your hands around his neck stopping him from being to move back as he fucked you, “I’m close.”
“Already?” He teased, “Damn, you must’ve missed me too.”
“Shut up,” you moaned against his lips, dragging him into a kiss. Yeonjun was a slim guy yet out of everyone you’ve been with he’s the one who knows how to make you cum and he’s cocky about it too.
“No,” He practically giggled, “My dick making your little pussy feel good?”
His eyes locked on yours as he felt your warm walls begin to tighten around him. A familiar ring of nerves clenching around his member as it sucked him into your folds. He wasn't going to last much longer either, “Your pussy is so damn good, every time, I can never get enough.”
His thrusted slower but still rough, chasing his own high with the sponginess of your spent walls that hugged his stiff dick deliciously, enough to make his lips dry. You didn’t have to give him a warning when he knew his words were getting to you and he finally forced you to look away from the mirror and up at him, “Cum.”
A wave seemed to wash over you, his final words to put you over the edge and just like that, you were letting go pulling him into a kiss to swallow your loud moan.
Yeonjun would have liked to help you through your orgasm but it had been so long since he last had you and still hard from your mouth on his cock, he needed to cut now. He pulled out quickly and not finding where to release he came straight on your stomach in thick, warm spurts with heavy pants. He looked down at the mess he made and smiled despite the way you smacked your lips in annoyance, “Seriously?”
“Would you rather it have been inside you?” Yeonjun asked as he sat back to look at the mess he made of you, licking his lips. A smirk came to his face at the sudden idea, “Don’t worry I’ll clean you up.”
“Yeonju—“ you hissed at the sudden feeling of his tongue licking his own release off your stomach and he didn’t seem to mind it one bit.
“What? It’s mine,” Yeonjun said as he kissed along your body before moving down between your legs to clean up your release too, “All of this is mine, you too.”
“Since when?” You asked as you relaxed. You were teasing him and he just smiled, “Since you decided to dance with me again. And no more misunderstandings, I want you to be mine Y/n, just mine. So let’s work on us this time.”
Things between you two were still kept private. There wasn’t any specific reason for it because some of your friends knew but you two still weren’t completely out with it. You were testing it out first and with your focus being on the summer dance exhibition you had, there was no push to continue to prove you were together now. Yeonjun was the perfect partner and after the exhibition the two of you were finally able to relax.
Taehyun was the one who asked the four of you housemates to go out. Mira was finally done with her intense dead week of exams and she has about two weeks off before her summer courses so it was the perfect time for you to all go out. Living with Yeonjun and dating him has been a bittersweet experience, bitter in the beginning when you were mad at each other, and sweet now where he spends most nights in your room or you in his.
Right now Yeonjun feels content with his relationship with you and as he watched you dance with Mira out on the dance floor all he can think about is how perfect you are for him. He had a feeling that dancing with you would bring the two of you together again and he would be lying if he said that it’s not what he had hoped for in the back of his mind when you agreed to dance Shoong! with him. He smirked at the reminder of the way your body dances with his and he’s wondering if tonight he could ask for a private show again in the practice room. You’ve sworn off public sex but he knows you too well to think you’re serious about it.
“I hate couples,” Taehyun rolled his eyes as he watched Yeonjun’s loving smile watching you dance. Feeling his eyes on him, you pulled away from Mira and motioned with your hand that the two of you would be going to the bar for more drinks. With a nod of his head he watched the two of you leave while he stayed back with Taehyun.
“Hey.”
A deep voice came up next to you as you and Mira got to the bar and at first you didn’t realize he was talking to you until you felt a hand on your lower back that immediately startled you. You turned to look at who it was when he spoke up, “I’ve been watching you dance all night an—“
“Why are you touching me?” You asked loud enough for Mira to hear and moved his hand off. The stranger still smiled, “Sorry, I just wanted to get your attention. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“I hope so.”
You turned watching Yeonjun walk over to you and without sparing a glance, his arms wrapped around your waist, “She’s taken.”
Nobody but Taehyun saw the way Mira’s jaw dropped at the declaration and she turned to him immediately, “Since when?”
Taehyun threw his arm over her shoulders, “You’ve missed a lot, Mira.”
“Are they dating? How did I not know?” Mira asked him but she knew why. She spent all her free time with her boyfriend Kai or getting home late that she didn’t see when Yeonjun would sneak into your room or you in his. As far as she knew the two of you didn’t like each other so when did it change to this?
You didn’t say anything in response as Yeonjun hugged you from behind, all you did was turn his jaw toward you and without pulling his gaze away from the guy, he let you kiss him on the lips.
You were finally Yeonjun’s little dancer again and if another guy thinks he’s gonna change that then he has to laugh. He’s not going to get jealous and misunderstand you two again. You made it official and yes, he might get jealous but this time it’s because you’re his and not because he’s too scared to ask if you are.
::.
okay YALL this is a REUPLOAD. I’m not a dancer so bare with me 😭
#choi yeonjun#yeonjun smut#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun x y/n#yeonjun#yeonjun imagine#yeonjun fics#yeonjun fluff#yeonjun oneshot#choi soobin#soobin#soobin fanfic#soobin fic#soobin fluff#soobin imagines#soobin oneshot#soobin smut#soobin x y/n#choi beomgyu#kang taehyun#hueningkai#txt#txt oneshots#txt smut
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I just love your Steve writings and I'm absolute obsessed with the way you write. I have a little request if you don't mind? We all know Steve wants his six little nuggets but what if reader can't have children? I never saw someone write something like it and I think you would write it perfectly. The story and how they communicate about this is totally in your hands but I would just LOVE to read a happy ending.
AN | Please, this is such a sensitive but soft concept. He would be the best about it, fullstop. It has a happy ending 🥺
Warnings | Language, Mentions of infertility
Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 2.2k
Masterlist | Steve, Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I…you - what?” your eyes grew wide as you looked between Steve and the small velveteen box in his hand. Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest as you anxiously fidgeted with your hands. Steve grew confused - and worried - as he looked at you in worried anticipation.
“Will you marry me?” he repeated his question as you still struggled to process what he was asking. It was such a simple question but it held an immense amount of weight. You could feel the eyes of almost all the other patrons in the restaurant’s outside patio on the two of you. Expectant and waiting…and you had no clue what to say.
Well, no - that wasn’t exactly true. You knew what you wanted to say, which was yes. A thousand times yes. But you couldn’t do it…you couldn’t say yes.
“I…I can’t,” you whispered softly, wishing you could look anywhere but his face. But all you could see was him, “no.”
“W-what?” he let out a nervous chuckle, cheeks pinking and eyes wide. Surely he couldn’t have heard you correctly, “what did you say?”
“No,” you repeated softly, tears already welling up and threatening to run down your cheeks, “n-no. I can’t.”
“Oh,” the look on his face was the worst thing you’d ever seen. It was heartbroken and upset multiplied by a thousand times.
“Steve - I…I’m so sorry,” you almost jumped up from your chair as you stood up and grabbed your back, “I can’t do this - I’m so, so sorry.”
“Wait, don’t just go. Angel-”
“I’m sorry,” it was the last thing you managed to choke out and the last thing he heard.
Steve walked you go, acutely aware that everyone’s eyes were on him. And his marriage proposal was rejected - which he never thought would happen.
He swallowed the lump that had welled up in his throat and sat back down in his chair. The ring box was snapped shut and quickly stuffed back into his pocket. Tears burned the backs of his eyes as he tried to keep it together enough to at least pay the bill.
“Sir?” a young waiter came over and offered him an apologetic look. Steve couldn’t even bring him to say anything, “it’s on the house tonight. I’m sorry about what happened. Hopefully things will be okay.”
“Thanks,” the bit of kindness caused the last of his walls to come down and he felt the tears run down his cheeks, “me too.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You spent the next couple of days absolutely wallowing in self-pity, regret, and anger. It all had to do with yourself too; it wasn’t Steve’s fault at all. It was yours and yet he was the one suffering. You’d contemplated calling him so many times, the phone halfway to your ear but you stopped yourself every time.
Steve too was keeping his distance; it seemed so out of character for him. That’s how you knew that you had royally fucked up. If your golden retriever, sunshine boyfriend was avoiding you, there was a definite problem.
After almost five days, you couldn’t handle it anymore. There wasn’t even anyone to blame but yourself. You were positive that all of your friends would hate you too - if you were in their position, you probably would have hated yourself too.
You had to give yourself a major pep talk in order to drag yourself out of your apartment and over to Steve’s house. Once you spotted his car in the driveway, you parked your car in the street and stayed in there for about fifteen minutes before dragging yourself to the door.
You knocked on the door, the key to his place that was on your keyring burning a hole in your pocket. It didn’t feel right to let yourself into his place without permission. You rocked and forth on yourself as you waited to hear the gait of his familiar footsteps.
When you did actually hear them, you grew nervous and contemplated running away again. But it was too late because you’d already been cowardly enough. The door opened slowly and you were met with a very tired and surprised looking Steve. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before blinking owlishly at you.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, and to your surprise his tone was void of any anger or malice. A wave of emotion washed over you, and you had the urge to wrap him up in a tight hug.
“I…I umm,” you closed your eyes and waved a hand around, silently willing it to somehow give you all the answers, “I wanted to apologize…to talk. But if you don’t want to, I understand if you don't want to. I don't know if I really deserve it."
"Y-yeah," he almost choked on the single word as he nodded before opening the front door. You hesitantly made your way inside; it usually felt just like home but today it didn't.
You trailed after him to the living room, sitting down on the couch as he sat down opposite you. A tense silence fell over the two of you for a few moments before you ended up clearing your throat.
“Umm-”
“So-”
The two of you spoke at the same time before you nervously exchanged a chuckle. You leaned back and exhaled slowly as he motioned for you to go.
“First of all,” you allowed yourself to meet his eyes; there was nothing but gentle curiosity behind them. Of course he wasn’t furious…he had too good of a heart, “I want to apologize. I know that doesn’t solve a single thing or make anything right, but I definitely owe you a giant apology.”
“It’s…’s okay,” his lips pulled into a thin line, clearly mulling over his thoughts, “it hurt a whole…like a lot a lot, but I figured you had your reasons.”
“Yeah,” if only you could turn back time and change everything, “it was just a big surprise and I didn’t know how to handle it. But I shouldn’t have run away from you like that. It wasn’t right.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he confessed sheepishly. He wanted to give you a huge surprise and gave you the most romantic proposal…but that was quickly shut down. Admittedly, Steve had wanted to be mad and angry but he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything of the sort to you, “we’ve been together for a couple of years so I just thought that it was the right time.”
“I know,” you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your features, “it’s been the best two years of my life…all because of you.”
“So why…what happened?” his brows furrowed as he tried to put two and two together. If it had been so good, why didn't you want to marry him? He was sure that it would be the two of you together forever. You knew you had to tell him…it was going to have to come out at some point so you might as well get it all out now, “you don’t want to marry me?”
“No, Stevie…I do,” you whispered, throat already thick with tears, “I do. You’re the only person I could ever see marrying.”
“But you…said no.”
“Steve…” you inhaled and exhaled shakily, “I should have told you this sooner…I just panicked. I thought that somehow it would work itself out but I see now that it never will. So I figured that I couldn’t marry you after all.”
“Angel, what are you talking about?”
“I can’t have children, Steve,” getting it all out in the open felt like a rush of relief and also like the weight of the world was on your shoulders, “and I’m so sorry for not telling you that before. I-I know you’ve always wanted kids, and I just…I was so selfish for never saying anything. I just didn’t want to let you go. I wanted to be with you because I love you so much; I’ve never felt anything like I do with you before. But if we stay together, we can’t have kids, and you deserve to have them. You’re going to be the best dad ever.”
He’d scooted over to the couch you were on while you were somewhere between rambling and crying, studying you intently. He hesitantly reached for your hand, holding it tightly in his when you slowly offered your hand to him, “how long have you known?”
“A long time,” you whispered, “before we started dating. I just didn’t want to lose you.”
“Why would you lose me?” he tilted his head to the side like a puppy as you blinked in surprise.
“Because you want children and I…can’t give you children,” you stated as though it was so obvious, “why would you want to be with me?”
“I’m in love with you,” and that might have been your favorite thing in the entire world to hear, “and I love you so much. There’s no one else I’d ever want to be with.”
“But-”
“But nothing,” he smiled gently, “nothing will ever change that. And if you think I wouldn’t wnat to be with you because of that - you must not know me very well.”
“Stevie-”
“I want you,” he promised, “and yes, I want children, but just because you can’t carry them, doesn’t mean we can’t have the family we want, angel. There are so many ways for us to have our own family.”
“I…you…” tears had rolled down your cheeks now and Steve tenderly wiped them away, “are you sure? You’d still want me?”
“I don’t want anyone but you,” he brushed his knuckles along your cheek, “no matter what. Why on earth would I not want to be with you over that? It’s something that you can’t even control. There’s so many ways for us to have the family we want. They don’t have to be biologically ours to be our children. Family is what we make it, yeah? Look at our family now.”
Steve was saying the exact opposite of what you had expected, but everything you wanted to hear. He was right, after all, your current family was found but that didn’t mean the love you shared wasn’t real.
“Are you sure?” you asked softly, “you won’t change your mind in a few years and hate me?”
“I could never, ever hate you,” he insisted and you knew in your heart that he was telling the truth, “I am so in love with you, and nothing is going to change. The only thing I wish I could change was how worried you were to tell me. I’m sorry if I ever did anything to make you feel like I could ever love you any less.”
“It was me,” you shrugged slightly, “I’d convinced myself a long time ago that no one would ever want to be with me because of that. But with you…I should have known better. You’ve never given me a single reason to doubt you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Don’t apologize,” he insisted softly, gently tugging you towards him. You obliged without a second thought and let him pull you into his lap, “I’m glad you were able to tell me now. I love you, okay? Nothing is going to change that.”
“But I…I was awful to you,” you pouted and Steve couldn’t stop himself from peppering kisses to your cheeks and forehead, “and I just…I left you. How could you still love me?”
“Because you’re still you and I’m still me,” he grinned, “and last time I checked we’re still in love. And I’m hoping that maybe you’d still agree to marry me one day?”
You gasped audibly which caused the boy to laugh softly. Your brows furrowed in surprise as you looked at me curiously, “you still want to marry me? Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he insisted and you almost melted into a puddle, “but only if you want to.”
“Yes,” you looped your arms around his neck and clung onto him tightly before burying your face into his chest, “there’s nothing I want more. Of course, I-I really want to marry you, Stevie.”
“Good,” you felt his chest rumble with his relieved laugh, “that settles that. We’re going to get married. And, when we’re ready, we’re going to have the family we want. Deal?”
“Deal,” you pulled back and looked at him with misty eyes; you could see that he was trying to hold back his own tears, “I love you, Steve. So, so much.”
“I love you, angel. More than anything.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington one shot#joe keery#st
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Examination (Kenjaku x Reader)
Contains: Medical kink, gynecology exam gone sexual, vaginal fingering, Kenjaku as a doctor, dubious consent.
Hello~ Day 12 of kinktober was Medical play, and I have this running fantasy for a few years that goes along this similar vein. Though I've subbed Kenjaku in for the character I normally imagine in this scenario, it's surprisingly fitting for him, don't you think? Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twt at kenjakusbrain, comment or reblog if you have anything to say!
You felt uncomfortable as you sat in the examination room. It had been some time since you had visited a gynecologist, as sexual health wasn’t quite at the top of your concern list. It had been some time since you last had a sexual partner, and even then it wasn’t something you looked forward to. That was, in part, the reason for your visit. You had some questions that you wanted to ask, just to make sure there wasn’t something wrong with you.
Along with also being new in the area and going to a new doctor, you wanted to start completely over with this move. Part of that involved making sure you were healthy, so getting back into the yearly exam was just another part of your to do list.
It had been about ten minutes since the nurse had excused herself to allow you to undress and go alert the doctor. The gown you put on made you feel exposed, as you had trouble closing it in the back, leaving a chill to take over your body. You glanced around the room anxiously, hoping that you’d have the courage to ask your questions in a succinct manner.
The sound of the door opening made you jump. You turned to greet the doctor but your voice caught in your throat. He looked very different than you had expected, though you weren’t entirely sure what you expected from a doctor you had known nothing about.
The man was tall, his long dark hair pulled out of his face into a bun but the majority of it still cascaded down his back. His button up shirt looked like it was almost too tight for him, the lab coat he wore over it doing very little to conceal his bulky frame. You almost missed the small line on his forehead, choosing to ignore it as it wasn’t your place to ask about a wound on a doctor, but somehow it seemed to add to his features in such a way that made him more handsome. This doctor was easily the most attractive man you’d ever seen outside of television.
“Nice to meet you, my name is Doctor Kamo, but my patients usually refer to me as Kenjaku. I will be conducting your exam today. Is there any specific reason for your visit?” The doctor, Kenjaku, asked, it seemed he was more of a straight to business man instead of the kind that apologizes for making you wait so long. You didn’t mind though, somehow you were both reassured by his presence and made self conscious by his appearance.
The thought of having someone this attractive touch you, wasn’t something you were ready for. Gathering your wits about you, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.
“N-not really, I’m mostly just here for an annual exam,” You forced the words out, suddenly too afraid to ask the other questions that had brought you here. Perhaps you could find another doctor to go to with those questions, some old woman that didn’t make you feel strange.
Kenjaku observed you as he began to get ready, washing his hands and putting on some gloves while studying your medical records that had been pulled up on the computer in the room.
“‘Mostly’ sounds like you have other things to say, I won’t press you, but I can’t look for things I’m unaware of,” Kenjaku said as he sat down in front of you. His words weren’t too cold, but they offered little comfort beyond not being forced to answer questions. “Your chart mentions that you aren’t sexually active, is that a choice or is that the nature of the question you don’t have?”
You blinked at the doctor, it surprised you to be read so easily. You know you mentioned that when filling out your paperwork, but you hadn’t expected it to be brought up. Especially not in this way, he mentioned not pressing, but immediately moved into asking more invasive questions. Still Kenjaku’s tone was nothing but clinical, it was his job to make sense of things like this. You probably weren’t the only person he had to pull answers out of.
“I’ve had sex before but it just seems like there isn’t a point to it,” You answered honestly. You were interested in sex, you just didn’t understand what was so enjoyable. There was no urge to have children, all of your previous partners made sex feel like you were there for them to use and move along from. It felt more like something you did for someone else and less like something you felt pleasure in.
Kenjaku nodded, observing you more as you spoke. You felt that somehow he was reading between the things you were saying, not that you’d even said much. It was the way he stared at you, like you were to be studied and not helped.
“Interesting, low sex drive or something else? Low drive can be normal with other factors, if that is the issue. You’re a little too young for some things that can lead to difficulties with sex, have you had any problems that I should look for in my exam?” Kenjaku looked into your eyes as he spoke, his questions making your stomach turn with anxiety.
The question you had intended to ask floated to the forefront of your mind, a faint blush appearing on your cheeks. Averting your eyes you studied the wall behind him for a moment. What was the worst thing that could happen? If you got too embarrassed you could just never come back here.
He seemed like a thorough doctor, even if he were a bit eccentric, he probably could help you in some way. At the very least he could make sure there was nothing inherently wrong with you for the issues you’d been having.
“Well, and please don’t laugh, I don’t have sex because I can’t reach orgasm. Partners have tried and it usually just turns into me faking a reaction and waiting for them to finish. So I gave up, it’s too much of a hassle to try and keep up appearances and no one wants a woman that doesn’t put out,” You explained, looking down in shame. You knew it wasn’t an intentional failing, but you couldn’t help but feel like there had to be something wrong with you.
Kenjaku didn’t laugh, but you could see a glimmer in his eye that made your stomach drop.
“That is more common than you realize. If you don’t have anything else I should know about, please place your feet in the stirrups,” Kenjaku’s acknowledgement felt like it should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t somehow. It was hard for you to find comfort from a man as attractive as him knowing what was about to happen.
The smile that was plastered on Kenjaku’s face felt like it should have been genuine, but there was something off. Even ignoring the strange stitching on his forehead, his handsome features didn’t show anything suspicious.
Doing as you were told you placed your bare feet in the hooks at the end of the bed, adjusting your position. The gown covered you in a way that allowed you to only see the top of Kenjaku’s head, the dark bun in his hair and the stitches you were fixated on. It was probably better that way, the last thing you needed to see was his face as he examined you.
The cold air against your pussy made you shiver, goosebumps forming on your arms in response. Even colder were the gloved hands Kenjaku touched your labia with. The fingers hadn’t startled you, but much to your embarrassment you did feel yourself clench around nothing as he examined you from the outside.
The doctor was being thorough, perhaps too thorough, but it had been so long since you’d done one of these exams you weren’t quite sure what was called for. Kenjaku seemed clinical enough, fingers not lingering, the touch wasn’t sensual at all.
“Things seem to be normal, even your self lubrication seems to be adequate for sexual intercourse. Now hold still, this may pinch a little,” Kenjaku said matter of factly. You watched the bun on top of his head disappear as he leaned back to grab a tool off of the tray he had nearby.
Other than the spoken warning, he didn’t hesitate inserting the speculum inside of you. It was cold, filling you up and spreading you open for him. A small pained noise left your throat, though you did try to keep quiet. You thought you could hear a small chuckle, but it was so quiet you doubted it had even happened.
There was a pause, Kenjaku hadn’t moved and you were trying to avoid squirming, hoping your discomfort wasn’t too obvious. You felt a gloved hand rest on the apex of your thigh, as if to hold you still. Though his hands had felt cold at first, now they felt warm on your skin even through the latex. It was almost comforting.
The sound of paper tearing brought you back to paying attention. You wondered what it could be, until you felt the discomfort of having a cotton swab shoved inside of you. Once it had been removed you waited for the speculum to be removed too, but nothing happened. You wondered if he was going to swab for something else, or look for something else inside of you perhaps.
Before your thought could fully form, you felt his thumb on your clit, not stimulating, just resting there. You froze, unsure if he was just being thorough or if something strange was happening.
“I’m going to run some extra tests. Everything seems in line, you don’t seem to be missing anything in the areas most sensitive, you should be able to achieve orgasm. So long as you have a competent partner,” Kenjaku’s voice retained the same clinical tone he had been using thus far.
He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his thumb began moving in slow circles around your clit. Your hand flew to your mouth, covering it to prevent any sounds from coming out. You couldn’t deny that it felt nice, the latex felt even more foreign than his hand.
Kenjaku watched as you clenched around the speculum that still held you open. The stimulation was so sudden and unexpected, you didn’t know what to do. When you were mulling over asking about orgasming, this had never occurred to you.
As quickly as it entered you, Kenjaku disengaged and removed the speculum from your body. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, glad that it was gone but almost missing the fullness.
The speed of Kenjaku’s thumb on your clit increased, the sensitive bud very receptive to his touch. It felt like electricity shooting through you, the pleasure was indescribable. You had never spent much time trying anything other than penetrative sex, so this was completely new to you. It hadn’t occurred to you to try something like this for yourself, choosing to assume all sex was the same.
Part of you wanted to express that thought to Kenjaku, that it was just something you had been unaware of and there was no need to continue. What stopped you was the feeling of two thick, gloved fingers entering your tight hole.
It didn’t hurt, especially since he had just removed a tool meant to spread you open, but it did feel big. Kenjaku’s hands were large, something you hadn’t noticed until his fingers were buried inside of you. Instead of thrusting as you had expected, they prodded about, as if he were searching for something.
You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him that he didn’t need to do this, but your words caught in your throat as his fingers brushed up against a bundle of nerves inside you. Hand clamping back over your mouth, you bit into your fingers, using all of your focus to keep the sounds in.
Kenjaku didn’t pull his fingers out after making his discovery, choosing instead to rub against the spot inside of you, making your thighs shake. You could feel just how wet you were getting, the squishing sound of his fingers in your pussy the only thing that filled the room other than the ones you made.
“It seems like you shouldn’t have trouble reaching orgasm now. The only trouble you’d had was just not having an attentive partner, don’t worry though, I’ll make sure to guide you through this one,” Kenjaku said, his clinical voice somehow had become arousing to you. You weren’t sure if it was just the state he had you in or if he had intended to have this affect on you.
A whine left your lips as his hand left your clit, desperate for the attention he’d been giving you. The hand instead pushed up your gown, making it so he could see your face.
You also now could see Kenjaku, nestled between your thighs with his fingers buried inside of you. Never had you thought you’d have a man so handsome like this. Even if you were just another exam to him, you knew you’d never forget the sight of him like this.
Kenjaku winked at you before lowering his face, tongue teasingly licking at your sensitive clit. You had to bite harder into your hand to keep your sounds in. Everything already felt too overwhelming, but his warm tongue lavishing your clit with attention was beyond anything you thought a person could feel.
The sight of him sucking at your clit was something you wanted burned into your mind. A strand of dark hair loose, tickling the strangely attractive stitches on his face. Kenjaku’s eyes, staring up and into yours as he took your clit fully into his mouth and sucked. It was too much, you wanted to look away but his eyes held you still somehow.
His fingers hadn’t stopped rubbing the sensitive spot inside of you, they had moved onto pressing against it. Hand shallowly thrusting directly into the nerves, making your body quiver.
You couldn’t take it any longer, feeling something snap inside of you. Kenjaku didn’t relent as you felt your body overcome with more pleasure than you thought possible. It was as if you were drowning in the way he made you feel, his hands and mouth forcing you to experience something so intense.
As he pulled his fingers from you, you could feel yourself dripping. Kenjaku had made more of a mess of you than you ever could have expected. He sat up slowly, chin glistening with evidence of your first orgasm all over it.
“See? If you tell the doctor what you need, they may be able to fix it for you. Do you feel educated now? Or do I need to have you back for another appointment, just to make sure you’re able to achieve repeat results at home,” Kenjaku’s words were a jumbled mess to you.
Nodding, you hoped he would be willing to see you again. There was no way you would ever pass up the chance to experience something like this again.
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Bumps and Binx
Eddie Munson X ScareActor!Reader
Summary : You worked as scare actor at Halloween events, you weren’t expecting to make someone jump so much he fell in love.
Word Count : 0.9k
Warnings : Not proofread, halloween-y, swears, blood (it’s fake blood), clowns, eddie hits his head, 3 uses of Y/N, rambles for the spooky season, in true Lou fashion it was written at 1am 🫶🏻
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
You’d worked as a scare actor a few times now, loving all things horror, you always enjoyed making people jump. The fact you could dress up and give people a good fight was incredible.
You lurked around the haunted house, well it was actually a haunted big top. Dressed as a clown, you had black paint on your teeth making them look sharp, blood dripping from your mouth, contacts that made your eyes appeared white.
That wasn’t what scared people though, it was your ability to hide in the darkness and appear, screeching as you did so. This made people freak out, not expecting you to be there.
It ended up in screams of their own, hysterical and fearful laughter, and sadly, but rarely, tears. It was a huge mix of emotions. That’s why Binx (your character) had become a favourite of many.
The night was in full swing, many people had already passed through, you terrified the majority of them. Even having one run away from you whilst you chased after them like a maniac - it was fun.
Another group was making their way towards you, you’d heard them scream and laugh as they’d passed your colleague. It sounded like there was quite a few of them, oh this will be a good one.
Hiding in a dark corner, you crouched down, hearing them get closer. It was great, you’d make them thing they were safe and then just appear. A lot of people thought your too was the end of the attraction … it was not.
“No! I don’t want to go first,” you heard someone say, a whine in their tone, clearly scared. “Fine, fine I will. Jesus christ Red this was your idea and now you’re freaking,” another spoke.
The curtains were pushed back, a figure entered the room, turning to face the rest of his group, “Oh I think it’s over,” he said, shrugging. Sneaking closer to him, you smiled, cocky fucker.
More and more people entered the room, around ten in total. A big scare - a challenge you absolutely loved. Following after the first boy, he chatted away, “It wasn’t even that scary, you’d think they’d have one huge scare at the en-“
Leaping out with a screech, the bodies flew, everyone letting out a shriek, especially the first boy. Shouting, and losing his footing, ending up on his ass.
He went down with a thump, hand coming to rest against his head, “Holy shit, that was- oh my god my heart,” he laughed, smile appearing on his face.
You had to stay in character, keeping the scene, but you couldn’t help being concerned for the way he winced as he touched a particular part of his head.
Snarling and snapping at the group, bare and bloody teeth on show, another boy with dark hair helped the curly haired one up off the floor. The younger girls squealed and laughed, the two older ones linking fingers, squeezing tightly.
Making their way to the final room, you heard screams and shouts, another group was coming your way. Your eyes remained on the boy until he was out of your sight.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
The night had been a great one, full of people coming to enjoy the spooky festivities. It was time for you to go home and rest now, which you were thankful for, your throat sore from the work.
Your face was clean of makeup, attire now normal and comfy, you headed to your car, bag full of special effects makeup slung over your shoulder.
You made it to the car quickly, wearing through the few remaining guest, none of them paying much attention to you now. You had to admit you were thankful for it now.
Something caught your eye, or rather someone. It was the boy from earlier, the one who bumped his head. Quickly shoving your bag and costume in your car you jogged over.
He was stood by an old van, it look rickety and kinda creepy. It was actually pretty cool and suited him in a strange way.
“Excuse me,” you called out to him, as he looked up you smiled, “Hey.”
“Uh hi, what can I do for you?” he asked, his head tilting to the side slightly, it reminded you of a puppy.
“This might sound strange, but I wanted to check if you were alright,” you chuckled, playing with your fingers, now realising how weird this situation was. “I’m fine, why do you ask?”
“I play Binx, you know the clown, I gave you quite the fright earlier and you bumped your head. I just wanted to make sure you were all good.”
“No way! Oh man you’re so cool. Sorry I didn’t recognise you,” he said sincerely. Shaking your head, you shrugged, “It’s fine, I look different out of character, Binx is pretty scary and I’m well-“
“Very pretty,” he spoke softly, taking in the features of your face, but his expression soon became panicked, “Shit sorry. That was weird.”
“No no, it’s okay. You’re very pretty too uh ..”
“Eddie,” he finished, “could I get your name or would you prefer Binx?” he joked.
“It’s Y/N.”
“Well Y/N, I think it’s only fair that due to you and Binx scaring me so much you make it up to me,” he grinned. Matching his smile, you questioned, “And how can I do that?”
“Go on a date with me.”
“A date?”
“Mhm, somewhere that I’m not going to become concussed preferably.”
“We can do that, I’ll need your number though.”
“Oh yeah sure,” he moved quickly, opening the door of what must of been his van. He pulled out a marker and an old takeout menu.
Handing it to you, you couldn’t help smiling at the messy scribbles. “I’ll call you then.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Have a good night Eddie.”
“You too Y/N.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Thank you so much for reading!
Please leave any requests 🤍
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#stranger things imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x yn#joe quinn#joe quinn imagine#eddie stranger things#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x y/n#eddie x reader#eddie x you#joesph quinn#joseph quinn#joseph quinn imagine#joesph quinn imagine#strsnger things#louloulemons#fluff#oneshot#drabble#halloween#flufftober#spooky season
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Can’t love in the dark (Part 2)
Tommy Shelby x reader
Sequel to “All I ask”
Request: kind of 🤭 @l1-l4 Andy threw a fantastic idea one day and I saw it, and from that moment I’ve been thinking about it daily… until this idea worked perfectly with another request for my Adele challenge ♥️ Andy, you asked for an angsty story, here you go! I hope you and everyone else like it 🥰 that gif was amazing and summed Tommy’s anger.
Summary: (There’s a time jump between this and the first part) Tommy keeps watching over Y/N, sending flowers, even after getting married to someone else. Until one day he exploded after finding the truth that caused a terrible accident.
“Can’t love in the dark” is one of my favorite Adele songs, the sentiment she sings with every time she performs it on stage gives me chills 🥹
⚠️ Angst but with a little surprise at the end 🤭
Word count: 4,727 (without the lyrics)
Making the decision to let Tommy go was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but it was for the best, or at least you tried to convince yourself of that. Crying your heart out at night you tried to comfort yourself by thinking that his baby would be able to grow next to his father. Forcing yourself to push aside the feelings and expectations you started to develop towards Tommy and the future he had shared with you that’d be taking off right after the races.
He’d have another priorities from now on.
The following day you quit your part time job at the Shelby Company Ltd. and focused entirely on the shoes shop. Tommy tried absolutely everything in his power but all he got in response was a sad glance that broke his heart or you leaving him at the shop speaking to himself while you pretended to be busy in the back.
There was nothing to be angry or resentful towards him, he slept with Grace before meeting you after all… but deep down you wished it was you instead of her the one getting pregnant.
With a heavy heart you thought how you could only dream of what could’ve been.
You had been on the edge ever since, struggling to sleep, eating the bare minimum, you felt like a fragile thing that’d break at the slightest contact, trying to hide from your poor father the sadness that you carried around like a heavy weight on your shoulders.
Nothing seemed to be working out the way he had planned. Not after you made it very clear that the future he had envisioned of the two of you together wasn’t possible, he held the hopes still, thinking you’d accept the marriage proposal and he could be there for his son, but you quickly let him him know that was way too modern and looked extremely bad for you. He tried convincing you over and over, assuring that it would be just fine because it was you the one he wanted to get married to, not Grace.
There was nothing he could say would convince you otherwise.
But what really hit him was that one time when you on the edge of crying asked him to leave, you actually yelled at him frustrated because it was too damn painful to accept the fact that he didn’t belong to you, you accepted out loud that you were jealous of Grace for giving him something you wouldn’t.
As weeks went by, he got the news that Grace’s husband ended with his own life, he decided to not get involved in that matter but it was hard to stay away at the same time because she was pregnant with his baby. She was deeply affected by the way events turned out, constantly on the edge and his major concern was the wellbeing of his unborn child so he did everything he could to ensure it. One thing led to the other and he ended up getting married with Grace because it was the right thing to do.
So here he was, stuck in a marriage for the wrong reasons, thinking of another woman, dreaming of another woman that was slowly, little by little slipping away from him. It was impossible to focus on the fucking papers in front of him, work had been pilling up because he was always looking for a ridiculous excuse to see you, even from afar.
Polly stormed into her nephew’s office fuming after learning that he had blinders guarding Y/N when she took the train to the south to see a new vendor. Despite what happened, Polly still had a good relationship with her.
“It’s been over a year Thomas, you have to let her go, you got married to Grace, have a son now… Y/N needs to live her life, rebuild and start over.”
“What the fuck do you mean start over?” He squinted his eyes, blowing away the smoke of his cigarette.
“Oh! Please don’t play dumb with me, do you really expect her to remain single forever?”
The realization sinking in, it felt as if he got kicked in the gut. The long gulp of whiskey didn’t help.
“No… no, there can’t be another man in her life.”
“Are you even listening to what you say?! She deserves to be happy!”
“What do you know? Ey?!”
“There’s someone who’s interested in her but he can’t get close because of your bloody guards!” Polly exploded.
Jaw clenched at the thought of another man starting to court you. No, anything but that.
“I’ve to protect her.” Tommy leant on his desk with palms wide open. Head hanging low.
“You lost her and all for your stupid revenge towards the woman you’re married now!”
“I never thought she would get pregnant, trust me that wasn’t my intention.”
“But it’s too late now for that… just let the girl move on.” Turning on her heels she walked towards the door. “And be more discreet, the maids keep gossiping about how you are sleeping in the guest room.”
****
Hearing the bell, you called from the back of the room; “The store is closed now, I just forgot to change the sign” but you cut yourself after finding him at the other side of the counter.
“Y/N… please.”
Take your eyes off of me so I can leave
I'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me
Defeated, you gave up, manners long forgotten. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not welcomed here anymore?”
Your attitude made him remember the first time he saw you and Tommy had to hide the smirk that was about to appear on his lips.
Please, stay where you are
Don't come any closer
“Just leave, Thomas, for good.” You pointed at the door. “Goodness, sometimes I wish you could keep your fucking promise and burn this fucking place down so I would’ve a reason to go away.” You admitted with anger, pacing the small shop.
Don't try to change my mind
I'm being cruel to be kind
“I could never do that to you.”
“That look doesn’t charm me anymore, your shoes are new, I bet all bloody Birmingham has new shoes so you really don’t have anything else to do here.”
“I want to help you.”
“Don’t.” You stated bluntly. “I don’t want your help or anything for the matter.”
“When I look around and see all I got, I should be pleased by the way things turned out. But I can’t… because I’m not sharing it with you.”
He was sincere and genuine, you knew that.
“Those were your dreams, not mine.” You added one more -an unnecessary- coat of product to clean the shoes, just to distract you from his gaze.
“Polly mentioned you need to move on. But I can’t let you go.” He was selfish without question, but those strong feelings for you didn’t go away even after marrying Grace.
“So I assume you’ll just go and use that razor blade in any potential man I lay my eyes on.”
“That’s not a bad idea, I’ll consider it thanks.” He added with a smile, loving the irritation in your eyes.
“What do you want Thomas?”
“You.”
It was one word but it included everything he really wanted.
“And what do you suggest then? You want me to be your mistress? That’s not going to happen.”
“Y/N…”
Emotions got the best of her, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t love you in the dark.”
“Do you nee-”
I can't love you in the dark
It feels like we're oceans apart
There is so much space between us
Baby, we're already defeated
Shaking your head you gave him a warning look. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to start throwing shoes at your head for real.”
That was an image he would’ve loved to see, and deep down he knew you would do it without a doubt. So he decided to save himself the embarrassment and headed to the door, but before he even got to open the door, he turned to give you one more look.
Everything changed me
“Please just don’t kiss him the same way you kissed me… cause if you do, you’ll remember me.”
Your fist closed around the shoe you had been holding, way to expensive to throw it away, so instead you threw the brush you had been using. Letting out a groan in frustration.
Time didn’t make it any easier to forget him, all the opposite the feelings for him seemed to be stronger than ever, you wouldn’t stand between him and his son. You returned every single present and basket with fruits and flowers he sent over the last months right after reading every note he added to whatever the present was. His words were tattooed in your heart.
You have given me something that I can't live without
You mustn't underestimate that when you are in doubt
If only he didn’t see Grace back then, you’d be enjoying life together.
****
“You wanted to see me Tommy?” Scudboat poked his head from the door.
“Come in, close the door.” As he saw the blinder step in, he took a long swing of his whiskey, the liquid burning. “I need you to ask your wife to go to Y/N’s shoes shop.”
“Again?” Asked in shock Scudboat, he just went last week, but as Tommy gave him a dead stare, he hid his hands in his pockets.
“Yes, again, but ask her to go on Monday after eleven o’clock that’s after Y/N left for the market, and it will take her a while to go back to the shop and you’ll give her mother this money.” Tommy planned. He knew you’d go then to prepare lunch for your father and eat with him, then you’d take over the shoe shop while your mother returned home.
Tommy knew every single step you took, at what time you got the newspaper and each vendor you’d visit. Yet, you were so far away from him.
It was unfair for you, he knew that. He’d never ask you to be his mistress or anything, he just wished to find a fucking way to get you back. It was hard also for him to admit there was a time when he thought that maybe, just maybe over time he’d learn to love Grace like he used to years ago, but deep down he knew he’d never fully forgive her for betraying him. Let alone having a son together would make their marriage work.
But I don't want to carry on like everything is fine
The longer we ignore it, all the more that we will fight
“What happened Johnny?” Tommy cleared his throat getting anxious by the minute.
“Ehh you won’t like I-” Johnny muttered but he cut himself off when Grace stepped into the office.
“Tommy…” she looked over at Johnny several times, like trying to give him a hint to leave them. “It’s getting late.”
He found it extremely annoying to get interrupted, leaning back in his chair he flicked his cigarette. “I know.”
“Are you coming to say goodnight to Charlie?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, the sweetest smile on her lips.
“Later, I’m working.”
“Bu-”One annoyed look and a loud sigh and Grace brought a hand to the end of her hair to disguise her disappointment. “Alright.”
Rolling his shoulders, Tommy looked at Johnny again. “So?”
“Tom I don’t like this, why can’t you just leave the poor girl alone? You’ve a family now, a boy.”
But Tommy kept shaking his head. “I’m paying you to watch her and report her moves to me, not asking if you like it or not.”
Polly knew him, his uncle Charlie was able to read him like the palm of his hand, but Johnny couldn’t understand the motives to keep tracking Y/N down.
“You broke up a year ago, got married… there’s no reason to-”
“Johnny, I’m not going to ask you again.” He dragged the words, if it wasn’t for the desk between them, he would’ve Johnny Dogs by the collar of his shirt now.
“Y/N is dating someone.” Johnny murmured, keeping his head down.
A heavy silence filled the Arrow House office.
Please, don't fall apart
I can't face your breaking heart
Tommy got up from his chair and walked quietly towards the window finding darkness only.
“Who is he?” He asked with more control than he expected.
Johnny made a face. “Don’t do this to yourself Tommy, let her move on.”
The man with icy eyes gave him a side look, it was enough to make him talk.
“He’s a Doctor, respectable, good background, treats her right, sends flowers every four or five days, walks with her to the park on Wednesdays and Fridays, on Saturday he goes in for dinner but leaves right after that. On Sundays she brings him food to the hospital and...”
“Apple pie?” Tommy completed while Johnny nodded.
Tommy knew the fucking recipe from start to finish, he could almost smell it and his mouth watered by the simple memory of how it tasted.
Did she give the doctor a small piece with her fork like she used to do with him?
Did she kiss the corner of his mouth after having a bite to remove the remains of sugar?
“That’s all Johnny, thank you.” He swallowed hard, memories making his chest ache.
Johnny wondered if he should also tell Tommy another thing he found out while following them.
Stopping right in front of the heavy door, Johnny twisted the peaky cap between his hands.
“He bought a ring two days ago Tommy.”
“Johnny,” His emotionless voice stopped him, “don’t follow her, you can go back to the gypsy camp.”
Once alone, Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, defeated he took the glass of whiskey upstairs.
Looking at his son sleeping in his crib he couldn’t help but wonder why he made the mistake of fucking Grace that one time, he swore he could contain himself and he’d only use her to drive Campbell mad. But no, he was weak and the only time they were together she got pregnant. This wasn’t supposed to be how he envisioned his life, he wanted to date you, then propose to you, get married and start a family… you had been there for him to pick up the broken pieces from the ground that Grace left. Somehow you managed to make him softer, showed him he could trust and love again.
It wasn’t a surprise when you took a step back, didn’t accept his apologies, didn’t want to hear his explanations, packing your belongings from his office the very same night of the races, and closed the doors to your heart.
He begged, was willing to get on his knees to ask for forgiveness but you wouldn’t listen. His first mistake was to sleep with Grace that night, the second, marry her because she was with a child.
Was he being selfish? How could he let you go when you got so deep inside his heart?
You were slipping away from him, little by little, if you officially started a relationship with someone else, that man won’t waste time after realizing how fucking awesome you were, and if that happened, there was nothing left he could do to get you back.
I can't love you in the dark
It feels like we're oceans apart
There is so much space between us
“Why don’t you come to bed, Tommy?” Grace circled his desk and slipped her arms around his neck from behind. “It’s late.”
“In a minute.” He replied pretending to look at the papers scattered over the oak desk.
“I think you sho-”
“I said in a fucking minute!” He lost it.
Grace made a little jump when he raised his voice. “I heard what you said, I’m just trying to be a good wife.”
“Don’t try, Grace… just don’t try.” He added sharply.
“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing Tommy, I take care of our house, look over Charlie, I make sure you’ve everything you need and yet I’m always alone here and when my husband is finally home by the end of the day I want him to take care of me.”
Tommy saw Grace toying with her wedding band.
“I’ve a load shit to do, alright?”
“Is that true or are you sleeping with some whore around?”
Her accusation made him snap his head at her. “What did you just said?”
“You haven’t even touch me in weeks…”
He wanted to sarcastically laugh at her question. You wouldn’t let him set a foot in your shop, let alone sleep in your bed.
“The way I see it, if you’re not with me that means you’re fucking someone else. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
He didn’t have the balls to say that the last time they slept together, he fantasized it was you instead of her, your name almost slipped out of his lips. But it would’ve drive Grace mad.
“I’m trying to go legal, Grace. That’s all… just go to sleep.”
“Tomm-” She started again but he cut her off.
“Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
Before she left, Tommy could swear he heard a sob but he was busy emptying the whiskey in his glass as he stared into the fire absently. Throwing his head back atop of the couch he wondered if you were by yourself that night.
The following day Grace insisted on joining him to visit his beloved horse, who was being trained at another facility. She started telling Charlie he’d see horses and the kid got too excited to advice her against the idea.
“… as I walked into the jewelry, I saw these lovely earrings that match perfectly…” Grace chatted non stop as they were on their way to the stables. He was looking forward a quiet day, but Grace had other ideas.
He just wished she could sleep just like Charlie was doing in her arms.
“Are you listening?”
Tommy dragged his eyes from the road to look at Grace for an instant, snapping out of his own thoughts.
“Yeah.”
“So what do you think?”
Shuddering, he took a long puff from his cigarette, feeling the smoke burn in his throat.
“I knew it, Tommy… you’re not paying attention.”
“Can you please stop this?!”
“Don’t raise your voice, you’ll wake up Charlie.” She tried but it was too late, the kid was already fussing. “See what you did?”
“You started this.” He pointed angrily.
“Shh, shh Charlie don’t cry.” Grace tried to get his boy settled, luckily he found a couple of horses out there.
“Look over there Charlie.” Tommy pointed. “There’s a horse.”
“Joshiee.” Charlie repeated, clapping.
Stopping the car, Tommy took Charlie in his arms, leaving Grace behind him. The gentleman in him wouldn’t be proud. But each passing day it was harder to pretend that he cared.
Placing his son on the ground, Tommy offered his hand to guide him.
“Come ‘ere.” Pointing at the fishes in the water trough, Tommy looked at the kid smiling with his chubby hand extended. “Goldfish keep the water clean.” He explained as if Charlie could understand. Grace joined them minutes later.
“I’ve been thinking… we should go away, for a family holiday.” Grace proposed brushing away a lock from her face.
Tommy shook his head instantly.
“Can’t do that, I’ve lots of work to do.”
“For a few days.” She tried again.
“No, you can go with Charlie though.”
Grace unamused expression didn’t have any effect on him. He was used by now.
*****
Tommy felt a rush of adrenaline through his body as he pushed past the people gathered on the street. The flames consuming the small shop, people trying to use buckets to attempt to extinguish the fire.
“Y/N!” Was all he could think of as he was desperately looking around for you.
We're not the only ones, I don't regret a thing
Every word I've said, you know I'll always mean
Everything was chaos.
Someone shoved him from behind, but since he let his guard down, he never noticed. An angry voice called for him and he recognized it right away.
“You must be happy now, finally kept your promise of burning my place down… MY MOTHER WAS INSIDE! You bastard! Get outta here!” Your fist landed on his chest as he was trying to process everything.
Tommy felt a rush of relief wash over him as he saw you were alive, but then he got in defensive mode.
“You destroyed years of hard work! My grand parents opened this store, my father started here cleaning shoes until he got a promotion and met my mother.” You spat with tears in your eyes, not caring about the venom and anger in your voice, or the people staring. “I HATE YOU THOMAS SHELBY, and I hope you pay for this.”
“I didn’t do this.” He let out a heavy sigh, shocked by your accusation.
His heart was shattered to know you thought he could do something like this. His stomach turned into a tight knot as he found the disappointment in your eyes.
“As if I didn’t know you, leave for good and don’t you ever come back.” You spat with anger oozing from every pore.
It is the world to me that you are in my life
But I want to live and not just survive
Walking backwards, he stumbled with someone who was trying to help. On his way to his vehicle he saw your mother sitting next to another woman on bench, at least she wasn’t injured.
“Find whoever did this.” Tommy instructed one of the blinders before leaving the place, he still couldn’t believe this was happening, but he had an engagement to attend and besides there was nothing he could do if you didn’t want him there.
Rushing into Arrow House he needed to hurry up to be on time, luckily Frances had his outfit prepared. The phone had been ringing in his office, but he really needed to get out of the house as soon as possible, after adjusting the last touches to his tuxedo, he moved to walk around the car, finding Grace already waiting for him. She welcomed him with a smile and a kiss that took him by surprise, there was something in her eyes different, it seemed like she didn’t had been bothering him about another woman in his life.
“Everything will get better for us after tonight Tommy, I just know.” She checked her reflection.
He doubted it was a possibility, but decided to have a peaceful night for once, specially at an event like this. He needed to raise funds.
“Where have you been? You were almost late.” She asked casually disturbing the peace he was looking for.
“Had some trouble at the shop. Finn messed up.” He lied.
“Hmm that’s weird, I looked for you there and couldn’t find you.”
“Went to the Garrison afterwards, that’s the reason I was late.” The lies slipped from his lips so easily.
She wanted to add something else, but Polly intercepted him by the door. “Scudboat has been looking for you, he looked deadly worried but wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.”
“Polly not now, please.” Turning around his head, he found the city Council leader with Grace.
And as they engaged in conversation, Tommy’s gaze was fixed by the entrance, as Father John Hughes and that insufferable MP entered. He couldn’t even stand to watch them, they weren’t welcome so he better hurry up to finish whatever the hell they’re wanted.
“Brother you need to know something.” Arthur whispered into his ear pushing him towards the staircase for some privacy.
With a heavy sigh, Tommy shook his head. “Not now Arthur, I can’t deal with anything else right now.” He spotted his wife talking to that mad Duchess.
“It was Grace.” Arthur admitted.
Confused, Tommy gave him a long look.
“Grace started the fire at the shoes shop, she saw a woman inside and thought it was Y/N. Someone recognized her.”
His head was spinning, anger building up and reaching unknown limits. Everything was so confusing, the bile rising up in his throat. Y/N could’ve been dead by now.
Storming like a bull he pushed past the people to find his wife.
“Come with me.” He grabbed Grace by the arm roughly making her gasp.
“Tommy I was talking to-”
“Why are you so worked up Mr. Shelby?” Tatiana smirked. His head was pounding. “I was telling your wife about the sapphire she’s wearing.”
“Tatiana said it’s Russian.” Grace interjected eager to participate.
And somehow the conversation escalated quickly, Tatiana kept pushing Grace’s buttons but at the moment he needed to keep the Duchess at bay. He’d deal with his wife’s jealousy later.
Scanning the room, he found Ada, fucking finally! Now he needed to deal with a spoiled princess he thought unamused. As his sister charmed Grace about a fucking donation, he tried to convince Tatiana it was a bad idea to go to the factory, but she was stubborn and had certain urgency to fuck him. There was nothing more discouraging than a woman selling herself off.
He was done. Fucking done of everything; the economic league, the duchess, his wife’s lies. This woman was absolutely mad
But time stopped as the duchess told him the sapphire had been cursed by a Gypsy. His ears were ringing, a shiver ran down his spine. Tommy had lost his faith back in France, but if there was one thing he believe in was spirits and Gypsy curses.
Speechless, he reached his wife in a few long strides.
“We need to talk.” Waving his hands anxiously he pointed at Grace’s necklace. “Take it off.”
“No, why?” Grace hissed visibly pissed off. “Tommy you gave it to me. Why are you doing this? You want to give it to someone else?”
“Here we fucking go.” He scoffed bothered. “I don’t fucking care, you want me to say this in front of them? Fine, I’ll tell you what I just learned.”
Anger was boiling inside of him, he simply didn’t care anymore.
He couldn’t explain the real reasons behind his request. “You told me you stopped by the office earlier huh?” He glanced someone passing towards the grand salon for diner. “But you forgot to mention that afterwards you stopped by at a shoes shop, the last place where a woman like you would be, Grace.” Looking up at the ceiling he blew the air he had been holding. “You started a fire at that shoes shop and don’t even try to lie, because people saw you.”
Grace’s features contorted. “Yes, I did it… because you’re distant with me, I know you wanted to marry that shoe saleswoman.”
Tommy saw red. “Yeah, I was going to marry her and when she heard you were pregnant she took a step back, walked away from me. That’s the biggest and selfless act of love.”
That's why I can't love you in the dark
“And where would you be today if it wasn’t for me?” She asked with her jaw clenched.
“Right here with her giving a beautiful speech about kindness.”
“I’m glad she’s dead by now.” She attempted to walk away, but Tommy took her by the shoulders.
“You should be thankful sh-”
“I don’t care about anything related to her.” Grace replied.
“Well, you should.”
“And why would I care about her?”
“BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT HER!” He lost control, Polly turned her head around at the shouting. “MORNING, NOON, AND NIGHT… I CARE ABOUT HER.”
Grace walked backwards, looking down.
“You’re lucky she wasn’t at the shop, she’s alive and I’m going to find her after the gala is over.” Tommy admitted triumphantly.
A man stormed in his direction out of the blue.
“For Angel!” He shouted right before firing his weapon.
The gunshot echoed in every corner of the room.
In the middle of the chaos, Tommy noticed Grace’s body leaned against him harshly, there was blood everywhere and people screaming. Tommy fell to the floor by the impact and Grace’s weightless body.
He called for help, and ambulance, anyone but Grace was already gone…
Someone took her lifeless body away from him and he wasn’t able to react, he remained frozen on spot in a corner. Replaying the images over and over.
Y/N swallowed hard after debating the entire afternoon whether if you were doing the right thing or not, yet here you stood if front of the venue where the Shelby family was leading a gala to raise funds to help people in need. One of the many dreams Tommy had shared with you.
Once the fire was controlled and people started to leave, one of the blinders who helped your mother to come out of it unharmed to let you know it had been Tommy’s wife the one who caused it, not him.
And guilt had been eating you alive ever since.
You needed to apologize for all the terrible things you said to him. You didn’t hate him, said it out of anger.
“Y/N! Oh, there’s been a tragedy… Grace is dead.”
****
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’m so happy the first part was so well accepted, hoping this following part will like you too… did you see that coming? If you have a few minutes, I’d LOVE to hear what you think!
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#that’s what Cill said#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x y/n#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fan fiction#cillian murphy fic#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy characters#cillian murphy imagine
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❝ LOVE LACED NIGHTS...❞
warnings: dacryphilia, safewords, creampie, bttm male reader, top fukuzawa, praise kink, aftercare
word count: 3k
prompt: basically u meet the detective agency as fuku’s hubby and hang out w/ them a bit then u get it on
notes: fukuzawa’s first name is used the entire fic btw
fem aligned dni
for someone who seemed to like working alone for a majority of his life, the detective agency was very surprised at the sight of the director mentioning him being married. most of that reason was because yukichi never wore his ring during working hours due to him being scared about your well-being and the enemies that would use you to manipulate his decisions. he was very secretive about his home life and you were no different. of course, you worked your own job, never wore your wedding ring outside of home, and never showed any connection to the detective agency in public. the only person who knew at the time is ranpo, who you saw frequently around the household since you and yukichi took care of him when he was a teen.
now, here you were, in your home, standing in front the detective agency with a cat themed apron on since you stepped away from your cooking at your husband’s call. to say being overwhelmed at the presence of all of them was an understatement, you felt like you were being judged by nearly every person in the room from the weight of their stares. the only people who didn’t seem to be judging you was the sliver haired young adult, the little farmer boy, and dazai (whom you’ve heard so much about). compared to yukichi, you were on the more weaker side; however, looks can be deceiving. you knew how to defend yourself whenever it was needed, quick with your feet and with daggers, yukichi taught you most of the things you needed to know about fighting.
“oh! i wasn’t expecting visitors today.” you said sheepishly, hands tightly wrapping around the spatula nervously. being the center of attention was definitely not something you were used to, preferring to stick to the corners if that were an option, “these are your employees, am i wrong?”
your husband only nodded at you, hands tucked into his sleeves. ranpo was the first to initiate a response, glomping you into a hug that caught you by surprise, “ba! do you have any snacks for me?” he asked, slightly jumping up and down.
“ah- could we at least eat dinner first before you raid the pantry?” you asked, holding him down by the shoulders. watching him pout before a small “fine” was mumbled out of his mouth, he walked off into the living room, already making himself comfortable.
“it seems like you and ranpo are already pretty close.” the silver haired boy mentioned before spoke, a smile on his face. he walked in front of you, suddenly bowing which made you freeze up, “thank you for inviting us into your home, sir. i hope we aren’t too much of a bother.”
waving your hands in front of you, a response spilled out of your mouth, “there’s no need for such formalities.. i’m happy yukichi found people he could put so much trust in. if you are friends with him, then you are friends with me.” you reassured, hands returning back in front of you, “you may all call me [name] because i took on yukichi’s last name and to avoid confusion. do not feel afraid to approach me whenever i’m needed and- if you all don’t mind- may i get names to attach to faces?”
the use of the president’s first name was certainly weird to hear out loud, ranpo far too used to hearing it slip out of your mouth to actually care. everyone soon told their names and you returned to the kitchen to continue cooking the meals you left unattended. kunikida and atsushi came to help, setting the table alongside you as dishes and utensils were placed in orderly fashions. dazai and ranpo were playing a game of chess in the living room, a game common in america for those who possess the abilities to smoke those with their higher intellect and strategic thinking to beat the opposing side.
soon enough, you called everyone over to the dining area, everyone rushing in to sit at a spot and chat while eating after they all thanked you for the hospitality. dazai made multiple compliments about how good you looked for someone in your forties, causing you to fluster and stumble on your words and you thanked him. kunikida, of course, seemed to notice what he was going for and told him to knock it off, the brunet playing dumb and acting like he didn’t know what he was talking about. everyone seemed to be very nice and accepting of yukichi’s and your relationship since marriage between two men wasn’t very normalized within japan. it made you feel relieved over the fact you didn’t have to worry about that issue and face the discrimination that would follow after it, making you wallow in a pit of shame and tears that would break your character.
after dinner, everyone picked up their plates and placed them in the sink, you telling them that you could wash the dishes as they could go and finish their game of chess. yukichi snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a kiss on the back of your head, hair separating his lips that begged to touch your skin. you chuckled softly, brushing your palm against his forearm as you felt him smile in your hair.
“are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, now lowering his head to nuzzle it against your neck, placing a soft kiss just for you to crane your neck away at the ticklish sensation.
you hummed, “they’re lovely people,” you sighed, going back to washing the dishes as you heard bickering coming from the living room, “they seem so happy living this life despite it being at risk almost 24/7. i’m almost kind of jealous. i wish i was able to spend more time with you outside the comfort of our own home.”
yukichi felt the same. he wished he was able to take you out on dinners and shopping but the job he has was way too risky to put you in danger. so he made sure to buy you little but meaningful gifts as compromise for the depressing life you both had to live. even when he returned home, he made sure to make the both of you feel special, dancing slowly to the soft music that buzzed out of the radio as the alcohol started to take its effect. those nights never usually ended the way people think it does: spilled wine and tossed sheets- no. it was mostly just sitting on the bed as yukichi held you dear, your head resting on his chest as the both of you dozed off. your and yukichi’s sex drives weren’t very high but that was because you both got older and less focused on it. when you were both in your mid twenties to mid thirties, those were the heights of excitement in the bedroom. now, you both just wanted to take it slow, enjoy life while you still had it. sex between you two now had become softer and slower, gentle caresses and cries, just focused on the thought of making each other feel good.
you sighed, leaning back into yukichi while smiling. none of that mattered. the only thing important to you now was your beloved and the kid the both of you raised together. now, there was a whole agency you were willing to protect, all of them being too precious to let go. yukichi felt the waves of content radiate off of you, his hold on your waist getting tighter like he didn’t want to let go.
“ewww!!” you heard come from the entrance of the kitchen, whipping your head in that direction, almost hitting yukichi in the process, “you guys are so cheesy!!” ranpo bleghed in mockery, catching the attention of the entire agency. dazai was the next person to poke his head in, overdramatically saying how your relationship with your husband was too romantic for him to handle. kunikida came following after, yelling at the tall man about how disrespectful it is to say things like that. you didn’t mind it, instead laughing at the display of how well the agency members could get along, yukichi laying his cheek onto your shoulder as he watched along too.
once everyone left and said their goodbyes, you sighed and closed the door shut, feeling mentally exhausted after interacting with so many people. ranpo wasn’t going to spend the night here, telling you he was going to a friend’s house- someone named poe from what you remembered. yukichi picked up some of the cups left in the living room, placing them into the sink to wash for tomorrow. the both of you headed to bed, changing into the appropriate sleepwear before crawling into the sheets.
“that was fun.” you said, voice nearly a whisper, the moonlight shining through the window highlighting yukichi’s silver hair and your face. you softly touched his calloused palms, bringing one of them to your lips and just barely kissing it.
“i’m glad you enjoyed your time, love.” he lifted his hand that you just held and pressed it against the side of your head, rubbing your cheekbone affectionately. he pushed himself forward, kissing your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then under your eyelids, cheek, and lastly the corner of your lips before pulling away.
you whined at the loss of desire, wanting him to give you what you wanted, “you’re so mean.”
he chuckled at you, slipping his fingers between yours, “then come and get what you want.” he teased, closing his hand within yours and tugged you toward him, his right arm wrapping around your waist as you were pressed into his chest.
you smiled and pressed yourself against him more, kissing him softly. it wasn’t long before the both of you started opening your mouths, teeth clicking weirdly from the position you were both kissing in. yukichi lifted you off your side, laying on his back as he placed you to straddle his lap. you settled your hands onto his chest, slowly starting you push his nightwear off, yours already starting to slip off your shoulders.
sighing into the kiss, his hands dipped down to the arch of your back, rubbing circles on your hip dips. you hummed onto his mouth, feeling his erection start to poke through his robes, nudging onto your thigh as you continued making out. you pushed your thigh into it, hearing him groan as his eyebrows furrowed from the contact.
giggling, you pulled away from the kiss, “already this pent up just kissing? you’re so cute.” you pecked his cheek once more before sitting up, feeling his grip on your hips squeeze when his face started to redden.
“you try dealing with the affairs of the agency then.” he nearly growled, moving your hips with minimal force since you never fought back against his relief. you knew how much stress his job caused him and you were in no place to shut down his needs, always putting his pleasure before yours.
“i know, love,” you started undoing the sash that kept his robes from falling, “you work very diligently and i acknowledge that.” you pushed away his wear, hand hovering over his pelvis before pressing down lightly against it, feeling him shiver under your form.
“safeword?” he asked.
“quill.”
that was all the confirmation you both need, the older tearing off the robes on your body, leaving you in your boxers, the cold air of the home making a chill run up your spine. clothes were thrown to the floor, blankets shoved to the ground as the tension started to build. yukichi raised his upper half to nibble at your collarbone, rubbing his palm against your hard on, sounds that were heavenly to him spilling out of your mouth. he was always so gentle with you now that old age was creeping up, he was usually more excited and rough when you were both younger but that spark of youth was gone now.
stripping you of your boxers, yukichi pulled you down with him, reaching into the drawer next to you and pulling out the quarter filled bottle of lube. he uncapped the bottle with his teeth, pouring it onto his ring and middle finger before pushing one of them inside you. you squirmed at the feeling, this type of activity having been put off for too long for when you last done this. he stopped to make sure you were comfortable again. prodding his finger in deeper once you seemed fine.
he poked around for a bit, stretching you out little by little, then felt you jolt and whine, burying your head into his shoulder as your fingernails lightly scratched at his skin.
“are you okay?” he asked, knowing that he just hit your prostate. he felt you nod and sigh slowly, resuming his actions.
he relubed his fingers after pulling them out for the short while, then pushing two fingers in, stretching you further. the sensation soon dulled after a few minutes, yukichi pressing down on the bundle of nerves a few times to tease you. finishing up his ministrations, he slipped out his fingers and wiped them on something you couldn’t see. your positions flipped nearly instantly, surprising you as you squeaked in shock. yukichi towered above you, his thin hips locked in tightly between your legs with a shadow cast on his face.
he went to reach over to the drawer again, in which you stopped him by grabbing his wrist, mumbling, “ah, umm.. can we do it..-” your lover looked at you, waiting for your answer, “can we do it without the…” your face flushed hotly and he seemed to catch on, nodding his head and taking the bottle of lube once more.
slicking himself up, he tossed the bottle to the side without a care and started to slip himself inside you slowly. you winced slightly, forgetting how much bigger he was compared to his fingers. you breathed out shakily, relaxing yourself so yukichi wouldn’t have a difficult time with you tightening up. when he was fully sheathed in you, yukichi pressed kisses up and down your neck, attempting to calm you down since he felt you tensing up.
“mnn- ah, you can move now…” you muttered out, feeling him press against your prostrate but not enough to drive you hypersensitive.
he slowly slid his cock out, pushing it back in at the same pace. this was the slow sex that the both of you had gotten used to, rocking into each other with minimal movement. he seemed a little rougher this time, thrusts a little quicker and precise. his grip on your waist was tight, nails digging into your skin as you whimpered and whined.
you could feel every part of him, dragging against your walls deliciously as you slightly drooled at the sensations. this felt better than the last time you’ve both done something like this. he was treating you with the aggressiveness you liked so much albeit gentler. eyes clenching shut, you groaned once you felt him hit your prostate, breathing heavily.
light scars started to rake up his back from your doing, reddening them as they started to swell. you trembled, yukichi hitting the bundle of sensitive nerves repeatedly, soon finding yourself crying out, “a-ahn-! hah, yu~, is too muuuch~” you slurred, tears starting to dribble down your face.
“it’s alright- nn, you’re being so good for me.” he praised, hearing your moans shift up and octave from how much you loved that sort of attention. he nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, biting and kissing the marks he made afterward, making you shiver.
yukichi thrusted into you a little faster, noises spilling out of your mouth with a staccato. you felt yourself getting closer to your release, yukichi taking notice and starting to stroke you to your finish as he chased after his.
you sobbed in his hold, legs wobbling as you begged silently for him to release in you, “agh… close! ‘m so close.” you felt yukichi’s hips stutter as you started to clench around him, the older soon coming to his close as well.
“do you want me to-?” he started to ask, only to be interrupted with your constant pleases, looking up at him with desperation. he pumped his fist around you faster, causing you to arch your back, shaking vigorously from heightened simulation.
soon enough, you spilled onto his hand and your stomach, yukichi kissing you to keep you silent. you moaned lowly, him pistoning into you before stilling, filling you up as he thrusted slowly to ride out his high. you could feel some of it leak out, dripping onto the sheets as you sobbed from the aftershocks.
“are you okay..?” yukichi asked after a while, keeping himself settled inside, deciding not to move so he wouldn’t overstimulate you.
“mmmn.. yeah..” you mumbled, feeling his fingers brush your eyes, wiping away the tears that dripped. he was always good with aftercare, making sure you were alright, soothing your cries with whispers of praise.
he picked you up, making sure to slide out of you gently. he cleaned the both of you up, grabbing another pair of robes to dress you in as he changed the bedsheets. you drifted off to sleep as he was tidying the bed up, your husband taking notice and kissing you on the forehead, placing you onto the bed and tucking the both of you in for the night.
ranpo unlocked the door to his dads’ home, mumbling, “man, i can’t believe poe wasn’t home. i was really looking forward to reading his novel..”
he closed the door behind him, heading toward the laundry room, tearing off his coat to throw it into the basket. just as he was about to leave the room, he saw a slight shine from the corner of his eye. he thought it could’ve been jewelry of yours that might’ve dropped into the sheets but as he got closer his eyes widened in horror.
he yelled, running out of the laundry room with and embarrassed look on his face, “these guys are so GROSS!!!”
#x bottom male reader#bottom male reader#male reader#x male reader#bsd anime#bungou stray dogs#fukuzawa yukichi#bsd fukuzawa#fukuzawa x reader#bsd x reader#bsd x male reader
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Hard Light | Chapter 1
summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be, but that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right?
pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader
word count: 2.2K
series or one-shot
warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), joel being a huge tease lol, (will add more tags as i write)
AN: i am so excited by the response that my joel one-shot got a few days ago and i’ve been itching to get something else out to you all. big, giant forehead kisses for those who want one, i love you all. so, anyway, a mini-series about professor joel is coming at you fast. i’ve written the first few chapters, so expect those in the near future. i’m thinking once a week? this fic is going to be something else and i’m so excited to share it with ya’ll. enjoy, and let me know what you think. find my ao3 here for more content and other fandoms.
You were running late for your shift at the coffee shop on campus, rummaging around your dresser, trying to find the low-cut black top you always wore when you had a shift. You weren’t usually one to feed into the peer pressure of those around you, but push came to shove when you found it nearly impossible to keep yourself afloat as a twenty-something student without the added extra tips from your part-time job.
So what if you had to show a little bit of cleavage? Right? There was no harm. Student loans were a bitch and on top of rent and food costs, you had to get a job at the coffee shop and balance a full course load just to make ends meet.
A thought popped into your head and you rushed to your laptop, throwing it open as you checked the time; 5:45 AM. If you busted out your lightning-fast typing skills, you would have enough time to catch the next bus and make it to campus with five minutes to spare. If only your crappy second-hand computer would work.
The thing honestly sounded like a chopper engine, getting ready for lift-off. You were surprised you’d gotten this far with it. Not that you weren’t appreciative, your older brother had passed it down and it had relieved a huge weight— and expense off of your shoulders.
You tabbed into your school portal, typing in your credentials and selecting your English course. You sighed heavily, as you skimmed over the assignment for this week, something to do with a sonnet that you couldn’t care less about. You loved school but ever since becoming an English major, the spark that you once had for literature sort of just evaporated.
You couldn’t tell if it was because of how busy you were with everything else that you just couldn’t find the time to enjoy it, or the thought that really scared you, you had fallen out of love with it.
It had been two years of go, go, go and you were, for lack of a better word, burnt out. You’d tried dropping courses last semester, thinking that you just needed a little bit of ease when it came to your course load, but when that didn’t solve the problem and only made things worse for you, you spent the last two semesters trying to catch up and get yourself to a place where you could finally breathe.
But it wasn’t easy. You were only now caught up to where you had been, the illusion that you were someone who could afford to take time off and slow down was a distant memory.
In bold letters, the words Paid Internship jumped off of the screen. You smiled as you leaned in closer to the screen, making sure you read through everything correctly. This was the break above the surface that you needed, the reprieve that you had been chasing. A paid internship was exactly how you’d be able to make more money and maybe have a little breathing room before you worked yourself into an early grave.
You clicked the mail icon at the top and clicked into a new email, deciding that the worst-case scenario was that you wouldn’t get the internship. All you were doing was inquiring about the application process. Best-case scenario; you’d get it and make some extra pocket money.
You saw the time, cursing under your breath as you slammed the laptop closed, grabbed your phone out of the charger and ran out of the door. You couldn’t be late, not again. You texted your co-worker Jeremy to open the shop without you and explained to him that you were running a few minutes late, as you barely made it to the bus. You climbed on board, scanned your student pass and found a seat near the back. Your chest was burning from the rush of trying to make it on time, but you could breathe easy now.
You checked your messages mindlessly, scrolling through a bunch of unread ones that you didn’t have the heart to answer.
Before you knew it, the familiar monuments and buildings of UT Austin came into view, and the subtle change of scenery from downtown to a more densely packed area made your heart skip a beat. It was the same each time you were back on campus. Which, these days, was often. Sliding out of the seat, you made your way to the front, thanking the driver as the bus came to a complete stop.
The coffee shop was only a short walk from the bus stop but even still you quickened your pace. You didn't want to leave Jeremy alone for long, you already felt bad enough about letting him open by himself. You stifled a yawn as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, leaning your body into the door, slightly cringing at the shrill sound of the bell.
"There you are", a male voice called, making your head snap up. You wiggled your nose, the familiar timbre of your ex-boyfriend's voice ringing in your ears. "It's about time you got your ass down here".
You snickered, shrugging your heavy bag off of your shoulder, and dropping it behind the counter, turning around and greeting him with an unamused smirk.
Jeremy and you had gone out for a few months last year, it was your first and, as of right now, the only short-term relationship that you'd had in college.
Dating your co-worker, even in a relatively small place like the coffee shop on campus, almost always spelled trouble, but Jeremy was not the type to hold something like a failed relationship over your head. He understood that school was a priority for you and making a living for yourself came first, even above something like a relationship. It might not be the healthiest way to live, but it was how it always was.
Jeremy and you had developed a fast friendship, one that went beyond the romantic relationship that you'd had last year. You parted amicably and now, you had someone you could confide in, someone you could trust.
"Why don't you say that to my face?", you teased, raising a brow at him over the milk frother you were setting up.
Jeremy threw his rag down and stalked over to you. "You're snippy this morning", he chided.
You banged into his shoulder playfully, "Doesn't help that I have to see your ugly mug first thing in the morning".
You snorted out a laugh and Jeremy looked at you, feigning defensiveness, "Ouch", he paused, returning back to his post near the coffee machine, "Remind me how we ever went out?".
You scrunched your nose and threw your rag at Jeremy, hitting him square in the face with it, "That was rude".
He shrugged his shoulder, "You started it".
You both devolved into a fit of giggles and fell into a comfortable silence, setting up and getting the coffee shop ready for the day. You had a half-day shift to look forward to and then you had class until the late afternoon. The days were long and the nights were longer.
You usually found yourself nose-deep in your textbooks, more often than not, or some classic novel that was required for class, not moving from the couch until your eyes were red and you were seeing double.
Only then did you retire to sleep, crashing hard until you had to wake up and do it all again the next day.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The coffee shop had been bustling with people since six in the morning, and at one in the afternoon, it hadn't let up, only now you had to go to class. Waving Jeremy goodbye, you sidestepped Tara, the fourth-year who was covering the rest of the afternoon and closing shift.
You'd crossed the far side of campus, passing by the science building and one of the massive libraries that had acted like a second home to you back when you’d been studying for exams when you were a freshman. You could thank your obnoxious roommates for that one.
Entering the lecture hall, bodies pressed into you as you weaved through the growing crowd, trying to find a spot in the middle where you could see and hear your English professor. But also blend in with the masses. As if the universe had other plans in mind, and everyone suddenly showed up to the Tuesday lecture all at the same time, you found yourself picking a seat near the front, an exasperated groan leaving you.
You hated sitting at the front, not because you didn't want to get called on to answer something or because you didn't know the answers, but because you did. You wanted to get through your four years as quickly and unscathed as possible and if people knew, mainly professors, that you knew more about the subject matter than you needed to, you'd surely get called on more often, making you stick out in ways you didn't want.
It was a terrible curse, going through life with the self-esteem that you did. But it was how you were raised. Blend in. Don't be too loud. Be quiet and only observe. Nerves rapped at your insides when you thought about getting called on when class started. Your heart rate ticked up and you found that your hands were beginning to get clammy, your throat constricting with each breath.
You rubbed your hands up and down your thighs, grounding yourself with the sensation of the material.
With a jump, you sat up straighter in your seat, being jostled from your thoughts by a loud slam. You snapped your head toward the entrance, eying the person who had startled everyone. It was a man carrying a briefcase.
Your lips tilted up at the edges, amusement tickling you when you thought of anyone using a briefcase nowadays. But here this man was, head down as he made his way to the front of the room, toward the desk.
You couldn't help keeping your eyes trained on him. On how his slacks tightened around his butt, moulding to the shape and curve of it. You bit your bottom lip out of reflex, your eyes dragging down the length of the mystery man who had crashed your lecture. Maybe he was a TA? Your brows furrowed when you thought about how your professor was nowhere in sight.
The man with the briefcase placed his case on the desk, turning to face the audience of students who blinked back at him, who now settled down enough to hear him speak. Air caught in your throat when his eyes flicked momentarily to you, and lingered on you for half a second longer than you'd expected. He had massive, warm brown eyes, and soft wrinkles that danced at the edges of his eyes when he smiled, making him seem more boyish than he appeared.
He looked older than a TA would but then again, who were you to judge someone's position in life? You thought that his age did nothing to undermine just how attractive he was, if anything it added to it.
The man, who may or may not have been moonlighting as your English TA cleared his throat, nodding his head, "My name is Joel, well, Professor Miller to most, but 've always been a little bit more informal than my peers".
He began to circle the wooden desk nervously, his large hand finding the edge of it and stroking it far more sensually than necessary. You flexed your fingers, gripping the arm of your seat to stabilize yourself. "So, you can call me Joel from here on out... since we'll be seeing more of each other from now on".
Murmurs began to break out around the lecture hall, and confused and hushed whispers followed.
Professor Miller— Joel, mumbled something incoherent, and you were unable to hear it from where you sat. He cleared his throat again, "Professor McCarthy has taken a leave of absence, so I'll be filling in for him for the remainder of the semester".
You crossed your legs, feeling heat rise and a furious blush break out across your face, and shuffled in your seat, a loud creak emitted from it and you stilled, praying that the loud sound had only been heard by you and no one else. But when you lifted your gaze, Joel's eyes were already locked on you, blown and brimming with cautious inquiry. A touch of a smirk graced his lips.
"And I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you, personally". His eyes were still on you, not ready to release you from their hold.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips and you couldn't help but stare. You had every reason to look away from him, he was your professor and given the clear age difference, he was someone who was off limits. But when he didn't look away from you either, trapping you with his gaze, your face heated up, suddenly aware that he was purposely staring at you.
You swallowed thickly, heart hammering as Joel's eyes finally drifted away from you and back to the faces of your classmates. He continued on with addressing the class, and you noticed that he avoided your eyes for the rest of the lecture.
Only one thought rang through your mind as you tried and failed to focus back on the lecture. This was going to be one long semester.
#teacher x student#teacher attachment#pedro pascal#joel miller#the last of us#joel tlou#joel the last of us#pedropascaledit#college au#joel miller imagine#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#tlou hbo#tlou2#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfic#writeblr#fanfiction writer#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedropascal#pedro is daddy#i love pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfic#my fic#joel miller x you
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