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stevenose · 10 days

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don’t delete the kisses - part 8/?

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a camboy!steve au

this installment contains: more smut!! more bonding!! more cute shit!!; camboy!steve; reader with a vagina; ‘princess’ is used in reference to reader once; oral (reader receiving); slight bit of orgasm denial; steve tryna be a s*gar d*ddy; caring steve <3 like steve literally getting off on taking care of u 🫶🏻

though this is written as part of a series, it can be read as a standalone fic!

author’s note: we back gang 🫶🏻 i hope you enjoy this installment! i have a lot more ideas now of where i can take this au so excited to continue it :) and hopefully i will update it before 10 more months pass lmao

You assume, based on the way light filters in through your curtains, that it’s a little after 6 am.

And Steve’s still here.

He’s curled up into your side. Hotter than a radiator but you never move away from him. Not even when you’re sweating from the proximity - of being near him, of holding him when he’s sleeping, vulnerable.

You can still feel the ache he left between your thighs.

You’d stayed up for a while just talking. Admiring. It wasn’t supposed to be a sleepover. But when Steve fell asleep halfway through talking about winning his senior year basketball championship, you couldn’t possibly find it in your heart to wake him up. And at some point in the night his lonely fingers found your side and they haven’t left since.

Robin was right. He does snore.

You’re too wound up to fall back asleep. It feels like something life changing just happened and you’re not sure how to feel about it. What’s he going to say when he wakes up? What if he regrets it? And that cold, terrified grip holds on to your chest, heartbeat quickening.

Steve moans a little behind you. Not like how he sounded last night. It’s innocent, tired, small. His arm pulls you in tighter and then he props himself up to stare at the side of your face.

You look over your shoulder at his messy hair, the little bit of scruff that grew in over his top lip overnight.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, laying back down, pulling you in even closer. He kisses the junction of your shoulder and neck sweetly, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your ribcage.

You have to swallow an elated squeal.

“Why’re you up?” his voice is deep, hoarse.

You smile, pushing back into him. “You were snoring.”

He tickles you - well, tries to with his sleepy hands. “I don’t snore.”

“Okay.”

Steve giggles - a sound you’ve never heard in your life, one you’d like to cherish forever - and tucks his chin over your shoulder. “You okay?”

You melt into his touch. Sweat beads at your hairline but you don’t mind. “Mhm.”

He sounds a little more concerned when he asks, “You sure?”

“I promise.” You find his hand under the cover and lace your fingers through his. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He sighs, relieved. “Me, too.”

You’re almost positive he’s fallen back to sleep. His breaths even, get a little shallow. But then he talks again. “Can y’sleep?”

“Think I might just be awake,” you whisper. “But you can keep sleeping.”

“I’m up.”

You hum. “I’m not convinced.”

He rolls you over until you’re on your back, then props himself up above you. One hand finds your cheek and his sleepy eyes search yours for just a moment before he kisses you.

You have never cared less about morning breath.

It’s like he’s touching you for the first time again. All tender and reserved. His thumb swipes across your hot cheekbone and he presses his nose against yours when he pulls back. “Could a sleepy guy do that?”

You’re left a little speechless. You wish you had something funny and clever to say but you’re simply just enamored staring up at his soft face.

Steve looks like he’s thinking for a second, then says, “I can do more, you know.”

“I’m very aware.”

“You want somethin’?” His hand moves down your torso and rests at your hipbone, giving it a little squeeze. “You did all the work last night.”

You feel just as you did last night - excited, scared, sick, overjoyed, ache-y. “That’s not true,” you breathe.

Steve shrugs a shoulder. “Well, I don’t mind doing the work.”

You’re entranced. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips and he waits for you to say something, looking shy himself. You lick your lips subconsciously. “I don’t mind you doing the work, either.”

He grins and you feel so stupid. But he doesn’t give you a single moment to think of something better to say.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly. “I’d do anything for you. Anything you wanted.”

You nod dumbly.

He smiles a little, raising a brow slightly. “What do you want right now, sweetheart?”

You’re looking at his lips and yeah, you want those. You want those in so many places. And that tongue - a ribbon of arousal tightens in your stomach. “I want you.”

“I know you can do better than that,” he coos, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You want what?”

You can’t speak, so you reach up and tap his lips with your fingers. Your face heats up when he kisses them. “You want my mouth?”

You nod. “Please?”

He kisses them again. “Where do you want it?”

You swallow hard and spread your legs. Last night was intense but this is something else. It’s six in the morning for Christ’s sake. And he looks like he just walked out of a porn shoot.

“Down here?” he asks, finally tucking his thumb into the waistband of your underwear. “Need my mouth on this pretty pussy?”

“Please?” you repeat. You can hardly hear yourself.

Your fingers slide away from his lips as he moves down the bed, throwing the covers to the side for a good look at you. You just about die at the sight of him, hair messy and still so perfect, naked shoulders broad, biceps flexing as he props himself up. “Help me out, huh, baby?”

You lift your hips for him to slide your underwear off. He places them neatly beside you on the bed, pats them twice with a wink. Whatever that means. You laugh, taking a moment to soak in the boy below you with his charm and gleaming eyes and freckles.

And then he parts your legs.

Your breaths hitch at the same time.

The air is cold on your center and you know you’re soaked. Embarrassingly so. But Steve is either indifferent or very much into it, because he says nothing, chestnut eyes trained on your core.

“This okay?” he asks, tearing his eyes away and blinking up at your face.

You nod vigorously. “Yeah, Steve.”

He turns his head to the side to kiss the inside of your thigh. It tickles. “Can you tell me what you want, please?”

You swallow hard, hands finding purchase on the sheets beneath you. “I want you to eat me out, Steve.”

He smiles softly and kisses up your thighs slowly. Occasionally he’ll press open-mouthed kisses to the skin, watching you squirm while he slots himself between them. “Want to know a secret?”

You want to know them all. Every last one. “Mhm.”

“I’ve cum thinking about having you like this before.” Another open-mouthed kiss. “All to myself.” Another. “Tasting how sweet you are, feeling you cum on my tongue.”

You’re more than breathless.

“Thought about it when recording. Had to grit my teeth to not moan your name.”

You listen attentively, burning up.

“And I thought about it at work sometimes,” he admits sheepishly. “About bending you over… eating you out behind the counter… and then I’d come home, set up my camera, and jerk off to it.”

You’re panting by now, his soft lips inching closer and closer to where you need him. You must be making a mess on your bed.

“So, if you think you’re a perv….”

He takes a moment to suck a hickey into your thigh and you finally whine, worked up to a boiling point.

“I thought about - about it, too.”

“Yeah?” Steve sounds hopeful. He readjusts himself below you. Wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs, planting you in place.

It feels a little bit like you’re on a rollercoaster, waiting for the drop.

“I’ve thought about everything with you.”

Inexplicably, Steve’s eyes both brighten and darken at once.

“I’ll give everything to you.”

It’s the most romantic goddamn thing anyone’s ever said to you, and a second later he’s eating your cunt like it’s his last meal.

“Oh -!” you gasp, hips jerking up. His strong arms hold you in place, keeps you still while he licks slowly up and down your folds. His tongue, hot and wet and thick, soothes the ache where he worked you open last night. Your head sinks into your pillow, unfocused eyes staring up at the pale blue light on your ceiling. “Oh …!”

“Mhm,” he hums, licks so slow it almost kills you. Your clit throbs, hole clenching, desperate for his affections again. He pulls away, just for a moment, chin already slick and eyes the color of coffee. “You taste so good.”

Steve’s lips wrap around your folds and he sucks. You gasp and arch your back but Steve pins you down again. He isn’t keen on letting you get away from the worship you deserve. He pulls back to look at you again, at your glistening cunt and pleasure-dazed eyes. “Oh, sweetheart. Hold on.”

And his hands reach upwards from where they’re tucked under you. You reach for them, letting your hands interlace again. They lock into place and he squeezes sympathetically, like he knows he’s about to ruin you.

He doesn’t pull any punches when he resumes. The tip of his tongue traces tight circles into your clit and you writhe again, back twisting, whining out for him. He moves slow and methodically and you wish he would just finish you off. It’s almost torturous how gingerly he moves, even if there’s a good reason for it.

Steve doesn’t want to just make you feel good. He wants to devour you. He wants to dedicate the feeling of you, the taste of you, the sounds of your pleasure, all to memory.

And then he purses his lips and sucks on your clit.

You’re so far gone. Eyes rolling back, legs tightening around his face. “Oh my god Steeeeeeve!”

He giggles, but doesn’t stop. Keeps his lips wrapped tight around you, keeps sucking. It makes a perverse noise, so dirty that it makes your stomach flip. Your eyes roll back painfully and just when it’s about to be too much he finally unlatches himself and soothes your swollen clit with a broad stroke of his tongue. He dips down, pushing his face into you to taper his tongue into your hole.

“Oh my god, oh my god, fuck….”

The tip of his nose rubs against your clit steadily while he tastes you. “So gorgeous,” he purrs, his breath fanning against your cunt. “You ever taste yourself?”

“God - no -“

Steve sighs like it’s a pity, then goes back to work. He moves where you need him, just as you need it, like he’s a mind reader. You twist and writhe in his grip before finally getting loose from his hands. They’re clammy as you reach for his hair, tugging just how he likes, and he quite literally growls as his efforts increase tenfold.

Little unhs are torn from your throat. Your eyes roll back and forth, hooded when you finally get the courage to steal a glance at him. His highlighted hair tangled up in your fingers, his back rippling, the veins on his hands popping just a bit as he pins you down. He’s grinding his hips, too, and you moan over that - he loves eating you out so much he’s trying to get off on it.

Your heartbeat hammers in your ears.

“Fingers,” you choke out, tugging on his locs. “Fingers, please Steve?”

“Yeah?” He pulls back, your grip loosening, and he lines his middle finger up with you. “You’re such an angel, know that? Always sayin’ please.”

His fingertip teasing you is driving you to insanity. You swallow hard. “Let’s talk about it another time.”

He laughs again, white teeth gleaning. “What’s wrong? Pussy’s so empty, huh?”

You nod. “Please, I’ll do anything for it.”

His smile turns a little evil. “Okay. Then here’s what’s going to happen.”

He slides his finger into you and you gasp. The pad of it settles right against your sweet spot. He crooks his finger just right and you moan loudly, needily, grinding your hips down.

Steve looks up at you with a little bit of awe and a lot of determination. “I’m going to pay for your rent ‘til you find another job.”

“But -“

Crooks his finger again, makes you cut yourself off with another moan. His other hand moves to your clit, rubbing slow circles into it.

“Mhm, and I’ll get your groceries, too, and I’ll pay for our dates. Treat you like a princess because it’s what you deserve.”

“You can’t,” you reply hoarsely.

“Let me,” he breathes, “or I won’t let you cum.”

Your hands twist hard into your bedsheets. Steve’s fingers move slow, enough to keep your mind hazy, unable to think straight.

“Not fair,” you whimper.

“It’s not fair you lost your job,” he coos sympathetically.

You shake your head. “Not - not fair you’re h-helping.”

“I want to give you the world.” His eyes are soft, his fingers moving faster, calculated. “Let me.”

Your legs shake around his shoulders. “I - but I -“

His mouth replaces the thumb on your clit and you’re gone again. Nothing but a little toy for him to play with. Mind blank, focused on nothing but the coil in your stomach, his tongue swiping across your nub, his lips sucking, his finger curling.

“Fuck.” It’s all you can say.

“Let me,” he moans against your skin, panting a little. “Let me take care of you.”

“Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve….”

“Say yes.” His voice is rough, hoarse. “Say yes or you won’t cum, baby, ‘nd I wanna see it, wanna see you cum again, please angel.”

Your mouth drops, pleasure and shame heightening in your stomach. You shouldn’t let him. But you want taken care of. And if he’s begging for you to let him, why wouldn’t you?

And, anyway, you really need to cum.

So you nod, mouth dropping open as your high comes to a head. “Y- yes!”

If you could open your eyes, you’d see how happy Steve is. “Yeah? Gonna let me?”

You nod again. “Shit, Steve!”

“Yeah, honey,” he grits, lips still tickling your clit, his finger working your sweet spot, his dick grinding into your bed. “So goddamn pretty, let me taste you when you cum.”

His breath is loud when his mouth engulfs your pussy again. You gasp and reach for his hair, fisting it like it’ll keep you tethered to reality. Your body goes stiff as you cum, clenching down on his finger so hard you’re both not sure how it doesn’t break. Steve groans lowly, tongue and lips still unwavering, sucking your clit into ecstasy.

You feel so good, so taken care of, that you cry, hot tears spilling down your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. Bliss washes over you swiftly and leaves you warm and relaxed in his wake. It seems to last forever. You’re breathless and dizzy by the time you’ve calmed down, body going slack again.

Steve finally pulls himself away from you. A thick string of saliva connects you together. You moan at his flushed, wet cheeks.

“You’re so good at that,” you pant.

He grins, pushes his hair back out of his face before crawling up towards you. He’s quick to grab your chin and press a kiss to your lips. You taste yourself for the first time ever. And it’s hot, for no reason. Steve licks into your mouth with it before pulling back.

“You like how that tastes?” he asks, playing with your bottom lip.

You look at him wide-eyed. “Uh-huh.”

“Me, too. Know how much I love it?”

You shake your head.

“I just came in my boxers.”

You gasp, elated. “You mean it?”

He scrunches his nose. “It’s really not that hot.”

“Are you kidding?” you whisper, reaching up for his face. “That’s so goddamn hot, Steve.”

He groans, as if you’re kidding him, and rolls off to lay beside you. You’re quick to stare at his crotch, mouth dropping at the stain spreading over the cotton. He pulls you into his chest before you can properly admire it, and bumps his nose against yours.

“You’re gonna let me, right?”

Your brows furrow. “Cum in your pants?”

“No! I mean about taking care of you.”

“Oh.” You almost forgot about all that. “It’s - you’re so nice, Steve, but my rent’s hundreds of dollars -“

“Okay?”

You narrow your eyes slightly. “Alright, don’t brag.”

“It’s only fair. I owe you, remember? Since you paid for my porn?”

Like you could forget.

“And in some ways, you’re like a business partner.”

“How?”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I can assure you I’ve cum to the thought of you in at least half of my videos.”

If it were anyone else, you’d be disgusted, but it’s Steve. Dorky Steve who’s holding you like you’re precious right now, who just sucked your brain out of your clit. You’re a little flattered, in fact.

“You said yes before,” he reminds you.

“I can take it back.”

He furrows his brows, frowns, hums like he’s thinking. “Mmm, don’t think so.”

“Well, I already came, so….”

“Angel,” he sighs, rolling you into your back, crowding back on top of you. His cock is still half hard against your core. “I can always make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

You lick your lips, heart beating so fast it feels like it’s skipping. “Oh, yeah? Don’t think you’d last.”

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

But he still leaves you a stack of hundreds on your bedside table when he’s about to go, refuses to take it back when you try shoving it into his hands.

“Just ‘til you get another job,” he says softly, holding your wrists gently in his hands, the hundreds curled up in your fist. “Let me help ‘til then, okay?”

“Fine,” you whisper, still feeling ashamed.

You both have an idea for another job in mind, but neither of you say anything.

#steve harrington smut #stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #ddtk

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 9 months

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okay so i saw this tiktok and immediately said 'but what if steddie?' so here you go!

Steve honestly can't believe he let Robin convince him to go to this goddamn haunted house...attraction...thing.

He also can't believe that they somehow got separated. Them! The two peas in a pod who share the same braincell!

Now he's wandering the place alone, and in the goddamn dark. Following whatever sparks of light he can find, though he knows that's just gonna lead him to more scares.

'and to the exit, Dingus.' Robin's voice says in his head.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm almost out of here anyway, right?" he says aloud to no one.

"Wrong you are, pretty boy." a husky voice says into his ear from the dark, and Steve's running.

Running, running, running, somehow not tripping over shit in the dark, just letting his instincts take him wherever they want while some freak in a mask and wielding a machete follows close behind, cackling all the while.

The thing also says things like, "They're so much sweeter when fear courses through their veins!" and "The pretty ones always die first, that's why I'm still around." each followed by more unhinged cackles.

Finally, Steve turns a corner to find blinding light. Well, blinding to the rest of the place at least.

A steady light comes from a lantern beside a chainlink gate. He dashes to it, thinking its salvation, only to find a blank black wall behind it.

It was only another set piece.

"Oh fuck."

"Hello sweet thing,"

Steve spins, pressing his back against the fence behind him, heart hammering through his whole body.

The creature, in a bloody pig mask, as Steve can see now, chuckles hoarsely when he comes around the corner..and in the way of the only exit.

"Oh, fuck."

"Oh darling, there won't be time for any of that, now will there?"

Steve registers everything he can about the thing as it stalks closer. He's about Steve's height, slighter in build from the legs he can see under the ratty gown thing he wears, and he's immediately got a plan.

"You would look so sweet under me, though, wouldn't you?"

Damn, this guys' been flirting with him this whole time. Weird, unhinged haunted house flirting, but flirting nonetheless.

Another piece of the plan slots into place.

"C'mon darling, why so quiet? Lemme hear those screa---"

The thing surges forward, machete raised, so Steve shoots out an arm, catching his wrist and gripping tight.

With the other, he shoves at the thing's shoulder and spins them, pinning it against the metal fence with a clang.

Finally, Steve sets his moves to stun; dropping the thing's arm and using both hands to lift the plastic pig mask up over the actor's face, everything slows to a crawl.

Steve takes in the face of the actor pinned under him in a split second. He's just about the same age as Steve, with long dark hair that frizzes out under the lip of the mask where it's caught between it and his face. His face, thoroughly sweaty and flushed from chasing people around all night, is looking up at him in shock with big dark eyes and...holy shit..

Is it ethical to fall in love at first sight at a haunted house? With the thing guy that was chasing you?

Time speeds up again and Steve surges forward this time, locking his hands along the man's jaw instead of on the mask, letting it fall down onto his face as he kisses him.

Deep, quick, and with a quick flash of tongue before he's spinning and racing back out the way he came, this time being lucky enough to find the exit along a path he had taken the wrong fork in last time.

"Holy shit, Steve! There you are! What happened??" Robin catches him as he clambers though the curtain covered exit.

"I..." he takes a deep breath, holding himself up by his knees "I fell in love."

ehehehe there's a part 2 to this :o)

#then they come back after the attraction is closed so steve can get eddie's number #and also his name lmao #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #st drabble #st #stranger things #noelle writes #i love that vid tho #bro was gagged AND gooped

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devourable · 11 months

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how would your delinquents react to their darling just...not showing up to their usual spots, not returning their calls, or even (dramatic gasp) leaving their texts on read? but! turns out it's because darling's sick and went nonverbal?

🌡️ the delinquents x sick darling 🌡️

it would NOT take long for them to figure out where you had gone. you not responding to messages was one thing, but when they don’t see you at the spots they’d usually find you in? they’d literally be hunting you down like a pack of wolves. did something happen to you? were you okay? it’d worry them sick not seeing you for even a day.

your home would be the first place they’d check — nevermind how they got in without your assistance, the extra key is for safety reasons! — and they’d practically collapse in relief when they find you crumpled up in bed, safe and sound. god knows what they’d do if you weren’t there…

mattias would immediately jump into your bed, curl up right next to you and snatch you up in his arms. he missed you so much! he’d whine and cry about how he was so worried, how he hated not getting to see you, cover your face in kisses and bury himself into your neck. he’d literally have to be peeled off of you by his friends to get separated from you.

unsurprisingly, mattie would promptly catch whatever was ailing you and later end up bedridden right next to you. he’d try to be helpful, making your bed when judas carries you out of it and fetching you something comfortable to rest in, but he’d ultimately wind up useless and have to rest beside you. which he didn’t mind — he always liked being the one to get the most skinship with you.

judas would be the first to pick up that you’re ill, though the rest of the guys wouldn’t be far behind. he’d gently scold you as he presses his hand to your forehead and neck, asking why you couldn’t have at least told them you needed help. were you so unwell that you couldn’t even call them? but he would be incapable of staying even slightly unhappy with you — the way you pressed into his hands, comforted by how cool they were compared to your feverish skin, would ironically melt his heart.

he and dom would be the ones taking most of the reigns. judas would go to work closing all your curtains, replacing your heavier blankets with light ones (no amount of complaints would stop him, your fever would never break if you stayed all bundled up!), making sure you’re well hydrated, give you a cool bath to make sure you to get all that sweat off and hopefully break your fever — he’d do so much that the other guys would claim that he was trying to hog you. which he totally was, but it was in the name of your health!

dominic, meanwhile, would get to work making you soup, ushering aaron off with his wallet to get needed ingredients and proper medicine (much to his best friend’s chagrin, but he is the only one with a car, so…). he knows your preferences already and would take advantage of that in hopes of making something capable of stoking your appetite enough to get you to eat.

he’d ask multiple times if you were sure you didn’t wanna see a doctor. if he took you to his, you’d be seeing the best of the best! surely they could give you something that’d fix you up in no time! but secretly he’d be elated when you’d decline — getting to take care of you was so fun, and if it was what you wanted then who was he to say no to you?

when aaron returns, he’d insist on being the one to feed and medicate you since he had to miss out on your care to go shopping. alongside food and medicine, he’d bring stuff that he figured you’d like — movies that you’ve been meaning to watch queued up on his laptop, a few snacks that you could try if you wanted something that wasn’t soup, a small fan to set up next to your bed, things to make yourself more comfortable. he’d pull your head into his lap and feed you, and when you were able to finish an entire meal without getting sick, he’d wipe your face and reward you with kisses of his own. ones less intense than the ones mattias gave you when they all first arrived, though. he wasn’t keen on getting sick.

all of his plans for the next few days would be canceled, no matter what they were. he could always reschedule and plan around them. you were his priority, as you were to all of his friends, and he wouldn’t spend another second away from your side when you needed him.

when you wake up the next day, you’d be greeted to the sight of all four boys sleeping around you — judas and dom on the floor, aaron propped up next to your bed, and mattias in your bed, still clinging to you. even if you feel better at that point, they’ll keep you there for juuust one more day… to make sure you’re really feeling better. they wanna make sure this type of thing doesn’t have to happen again.

please reblog to support my work! i'd appreciate it greatly!

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whorekneecentral · 5 months

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Christmas On The Farm

Erling Haaland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: family christmases, stealing a tree, use of an axe, getting caught, soft boyfriend erling, a few cheesy moments, fingering, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation kinda, penetrative sex (p in v), nipple sucking, creampie, getting caught in a different way :)

Word Count: 2,357

Author's Note: omg it's the big mannnn, anytime I think of erling, I think of the farm so here we are lmao - also this is for pookie too sorry lmao all her bfs are in here

merry smutmas series

Erling takes you home to spend the holidays at the Haaland Family Farm and you two end up being the only ones there.

"Are we going the right way?" You look over at your boyfriend, the man driving through the snow.

Erling nods, "I promise I know where I'm going." He laughs, the wind shield wipers make a squeaking sound, brushing the snow away as he slowly makes his way up the road. He turns into the driveway, the snow really coming down as he parks the car.

"It's freezing!" You shouted, running up the front porch stairs to unlock the door. Erling rolls his eyes at your theatrics, getting the bags out of the car before following you into the house.

The door shuts behind him, Erling shaking the snow off of his hoodie.

The two of you had ventured up to the Haaland family farm for the holidays. His siblings and parents were supposed to meet you guys there but due to the snowstorm, their flights were canceled. They would be arriving on Christmas Eve rather than the 18th like the two of you so that left it up to you to get things ready for the holidays.

It takes the two of you an hour to defrost and get comfortable, Erling rearranging things to his liking and you were relaxing on the couch, finally glad to have your boyfriend to yourself and not have to fight for his attention during the season - though you had to give it to him, he balanced everything in his life perfectly.

"We should decorate," he announces, coming into the living room from the kitchen. You look at the man over your book, "okay, with what?"

Looking around, the house lacked Christmas spirit big time.

Before you could gather yourself, Erling's got you over his shoulder as he walks down the hallway. "I can walk, you know!" You say through the giggles, holding onto him.

He smiles, putting you down at the end of the hallway. "Where's the fun in that?"

You roll your eyes at his childish ways, letting him walk into the room first. The room was used for storage, all sorts of things packed away in boxes and containers. You flipped the switch, turning on the light as he looked around. Eventually you two found the boxes marked for Christmas - ornaments, garland, lights etc.

One by one you moved the boxes into the living room and you started on your tasks.

Erling braved the cold; something that never really bothered him - having his Norwegian blood and all - and strung the lights around the porch railing and roof.

You were working on the inside; wrapping the staircase in garland, changing the curtains to the red and green ones, hanging mistletoe, replacing the regular throw pillows for the holidays ones and things like that. Eventually Erling came back in, helping you with the rest of the tasks, a few miscellaneous things to do here and there around the house.

There was one box left, the big label on the top read ornaments.

"We need a tree," you looked over at him, your hands on your hips.

Erling smiles, "you look.. very wife like."

"Thank you, I guess," you laughed, "but we still need a tree. Do you guys have one somewhere? Did we forget it in the room?"

"You mean like.. a fake one?"

"Yeah, duh." You looked at your boyfriend, the look of confusion on his face. "We don't have one in the house but there's one outside."

"Okay where is it? In the barn or?" You trailed off, waiting for an answer.

"No, we can just cut one down." He says, tossing your hoodie to you. The sweater lands on your face and you move it, looking at the man like he was insane. "I'm sorry, we can.. what?"

"Cut the tree down. There's a few at the back of the property. It stopped snowing so we can make it and be back before it gets really dark."

You put your sweater on, looking for your coat. "Have you ever cut a tree down before?"

Erling shakes his head, putting his own coat on. "No, but it can't be that hard."

He was out the door before you could protest. You really had no choice now, did you? You followed the man to the barn, he pulled an axe out of some trunk and handed you a giant torch light. It was the blind leading the blind, the two of you trudging through the snow to find a Christmas tree.

Sometimes you really wondered what went through this man's head. Then you wondered if you were right in the head, following him through the snow in the dark to find a tree.

You find a few, settling on the biggest one you could get without it being too heavy to carry or too big for the house, and Erling started swinging the axe.

You took a step back; you trusted him but not when it came to chopping a tree down in the dark.

It reminded you of when you were a child, your father yelling at you to hold the light one way while he's doing something and you held it a different way.

So there you were, dragging a Christmas tree through the snow with your boyfriend. "Move faster," Erling says and you grumble.

"We don't all have superhuman strength, you know."

"Just hurry up, babe," he told you.

You grumble again, trying to move a little faster but between the thick snow, the heavy tree and holding the light, it was a little hard to do.

"What's the rush anyways ?"

"Well," he starts and you know that tone; something was wrong. "It's actually the neighbour's tree."

"WHAT?" you stopped, turning to face him. "WE STOLE A TREE?!"

He laughs, nodding for you to keep walking. "It's not that serious babe, just keep walking."

Sometimes you really wondered how you ended up with him as a boyfriend, but the fact that he made you an accomplice to Christmas tree theft is outweighed by how good of a boyfriend he is.

Despite all your huffing, you help him get the tree into the house in the snow off of it. It took about an hour of sorting for you two to settle on a theme for the tree; the classic red, green and gold. The ornaments hung off the branches, Erling strung the lights around the tree before finally plugging it in.

The two of you admired your work, his arms wrapped around you as he hugged you from behind, his chin resting on your head.

Your own hand rests on his, "I cannot believe you made me steal a Christmas tree."

Erling laughs, "is it really stealing though ? The tree is out in the open sooo.." He trails off, making you laugh. You turned to face him, your hands holding his jaw, "you're ridiculous."

He leans into you, kissing you softly. "'Tis the season for giving, baby."

"Yeah, sure."

"Speaking of gifts," he starts, his hands moving to rest on your lower back, pulling you flush against him. "I have one for you."

You brows furrowed, "it's the 18th, babe. You're a whole week early." Your head tilts to the side as you look at your boyfriend. The man smiles, shaking his head as he leans down to kiss you.

It clicks, you realize what his gift is.

"Oh," you giggled, the two of you shifting to the floor. "I like this kinda gift," you whisper, his lips moving to your neck.

"I knew you would," he mumbles into your skin, his cold hand slipping under your shirt. "Erling!" You shrieked, wiggling away from him.

The man smiles, "sorry."

He sits against the couch, watching as you undress in front of him. The leggings sliding down your smooth legs, pooling by your ankles before you step out of them, you pull off the sweater and that leaves you in the same blue set Erling loves so much.

You reach behind to unhook your bra but he stops you, “leave it on.”

He pulls you by your waist back to him, his hand slipping down to rest on your ass before giving it a smack. You’re quiet, looking down at your boyfriend on the floor.

“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the blue lace.

You smile, “I know.”

He pulls you to lay on the floor, he’s sat between your legs with one on either side of him. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. Erling pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy and he gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling.

“Baby, please.” your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach.

You try to wiggle your hands away from him, trying to grab on something. “Behave.” He tells you, adding another finger.

You subconsciously spread your legs, giving him more room. Erling's cheek presses to your inner thigh, watching as your face twists, pleasure all across it and your hands stop wiggling, he smiles, satisfied.

Erling can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the blue lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes.

He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt.

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.

He knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more and Erling gives in - he always gives into you. Two fingers in you and he glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much.

He pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.

“What- why’d you stop?” You asked, pouting at your boyfriend in disapproval.

Erling sits up, patting his lap. “C’mere.”

You manage to pull yourself up, your legs feeling like jelly as you move yourself onto your boyfriend’s lap. Erling's hands resting on your lower back, fingers dancing up and down the curve of your spine. They run up once more before they stop on the clasp of your bra.

He unhooks it, letting the straps slide down your arms and land on your lap. He brings his hands around to your stomach, once again his fingers slide up your soft skin before resting on your tits.

“Erling,” you call, eyes fixed on him.

He hums, his focus on your tits rather than anything you had to say. Gripping his chin between your fingers, he finally looks at you.

“Please,” you mumble, the desperation all over your face. Erling smiles, there's a look you've seen a million times over on his face.

You’re up on your knees, hovering over his lap, your hands under you as you undo his pants. Erling helps you, pulling them down enough for you to sink down onto him. Your hand rests on his shoulder, giving you a moment to gather yourself before starting to bounce on his lap.

You look at your boyfriend, watching as he kisses down your chest, over your tits before his lips wrap around your nipple, tongue lapping over it. Your hand tangles in his hair, his name falling from your lips.

Your back arches a bit, pushing into Erling. His hand moves from your hip to your other tit, fingers pinching your nipple, twisting and rolling it softly between his thumb and index finger.

“God,” you breathe, a hand raking through Erling's blonde hair.

You rock your hips forward and Erling's head drops back into the couch, his eyes fluttered closed.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips on his neck -- a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.

Erling can feel the way you were clenching around him and he knew you were close; you knew he was close, his eyes closed and head back.

His hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again. “Oh my god,” your hips bucked, his fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of your boyfriend.

“C’mon sweetheart, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more.

He knew you like the back of his hand, every look, every touch, every movement, he knew you.

Between the two, he pushes you over the edge. The knot in your stomach comes loose and your boyfriend watches as you cum. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Erling follows behind you.

The two of you are holding onto each other like the other is going to disappear, giggly and love drunk. Your boyfriend peppers kisses all over your face, your arms wrapped over his shoulders.

It wasn't until there was a knock on the door that you two froze, looking at each other. "Erling?!" The voice calls from outside.

His hand covers your mouth, your brows furrowed and eyes widen as you look at him. His lips are by your ear, "it's the neighbour."

You move his hand, whispering back to him. "The lights are on."

"Shhh, they'll go away if we're quiet."

You look at your boyfriend, lips pressed together in an attempt to muffle your laughter. He really did make you wonder sometimes.

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

#erling haaland #erling haaland x reader #erling haaland smut #football #football smut #football x reader #merry smutmas xoxo

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guccifrog · 3 months

Text

WRONG NUMBER P15

matt sturniolo x f!reader

hope u guys are happy now🙄

pov//

Pitch black. That was the only way to describe what I could see. I had no idea where I was, or what the hell was wrong with me. My body felt…off like it wasn't mine. My senses were heightened, my hearing, my sight, my touch. Everything was just…sharper. I felt like I was floating in the void, unable to move or speak or even think.

I tried focusing on what was happening around me, but there was nothing. A strong scent of blood suddenly hit me like a bullet. My blood.Just where the hell was I?

My brain was a foggy mess, struggling to process what was happening around me. I couldn't think or remember anything.

"I thought you may like it"

Huh? What was that?

"you're so hard to buy for, you know that?"

I tried to speak, but nothing came out. An invisible force seemed to tighten its grip on my vocal cords. It was as if my ability to speak was suddenly snatched away.

Panic started to rise in me. Where was I? Who was talking to me?

"I care about you, you know that?"

Without warning a sharp pain erupted behind my eyes, I tried moving my hand to touch my throbbing head, but I just couldn't.

"This is eating me alive Matt. I miss you"

What? Matt? That was my name. Matt.

I tried to remember, anything at all. Images started to flash in my mind, fragmented and incomplete. A face I knew, a room I'd never been in. My name was Matt.

"once you wake up, I'm not going anywhere"

Wake up from what? Who was she? I struggled to recall. My body ached, and my head felt like it was splitting in two.

The voice sounded familiar…so familiar, but I couldn't think of anything. At this point, the pain was getting worse like someone was trying to drill a hole through my skull.

I tried to focus on the voice, to remember who it belonged to, but it was no use. All I could do was lie there, in this pitch-black void, feeling helpless and confused.

"I'll do anything I can to help you get through this, okay? We'll figure it out together."

The voice was soft and reassuring, but I still couldn't remember who it belonged to. I felt a hand on my arm, warm and steady. I wasn't alone. There was someone here with me. But who were they? What was happening to me?

The pain was everywhere, making it impossible to think straight. My vision began to blur, and I struggled to keep my eyes open. I tried to focus on the hand on my arm, but the darkness was overwhelming.

The voice now stopped talking, and the hand on my arm slowly withdrew. I was left alone again, drifting in the blackness. My head was still in pain, and my body ached with every breath I took. I tried to concentrate on something, anything, but the darkness was all-consuming.

My eyes closed shut for a moment, my senses leaving my numb body, I couldn't tell if I was lying down, upright, or spinning.

I forced my eyes open again, wincing against the harsh light. It was no longer dark, instead, there was a bright light blinding me and It took a moment for my vision to adjust.

I was lying on a bed, a plain, white bed. I tried to sit up, but the room spun violently, and I was forced to lie back down.

My head still hurt, and my body ached with every movement. But I was able to take in more of my surroundings.

I look to my right, a small window, The curtains are drawn, casting a faint, grayish light over the room. The walls are painted a dull beige color, and there's a door to the left.

I turn my head slightly, and I see a Girl, sitting in a chair beside the bed. She looked pale and tired, her hair a mess around her shoulders, and she was asleep.

I knew her. That's for sure. I try to remember her name, but it's hazy. I do remember her voice, though. It's the same voice that's been talking to me.

I want to ask her questions, but my voice is still gone and I can't move.

I let my eyes wander around the room, taking in more details. Machines were beeping softly in the background, and there were IV lines connected to both my hands. I tried to raise my left hand, but it was numb and heavy.

I turned to look at the girl again, taking in her features. There was something about her that made me feel safe, despite the unfamiliar surroundings. Her face was soft and innocent, her lips slightly parted as she slept. I wondered how long she'd been here, sitting by my bedside.

My eyes landed on the bedside table, where there were a few items scattered around. A glass of water, some tissues, and a catus? I frowned, wondering what it was doing there.

The girl stirred in her chair, and I turned my head to watch her. She slowly opened her eyes, and they focused on me for a moment before she shoot up, looking alarmed. "Matt? Are you awake?" she asked, her voice trembling.

I tried to nod, but my neck was too stiff. "Yeah…" My voice came out as a croak, but it was a relief to finally speak again.

The girl stared at me, her eyes wide and glossy with tears. "Oh, thank God," she whispered as she chokedbacka sob.

"Don't scare me like that ever again you fucker" she reached over and took my hand, squeezing it gently.

I closed my eyes, relaxing to the feel of her soft hand in mine. "Sorry," I managed to croak. "It's all a bit hazy."

She laughed softly, the sound both melodic and comforting, and it was like music to my ears.

taglist ☆

@mattestrella @chrisfavoritepepsi @sunsetsturniolos @littlebookworm803 @sturniozo @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ev3rgreenxtrees @nonamegirlxsturniolo @crybabycat1 @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo @ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @iluvmeeen @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @kiarastromboli @hearts4chriss @braindead4l @sturniolosreads @mattsturnzzz09 @itssophiasstuff @mayhem-72 @b2cute @buckys-celestes @4iriss

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cryptidghostgirl · 1 month

Text

Drawing Down the Moon (Alastor x Ancient Roman!Witch!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any? Please correct me if I am wrong. The subject matter is a little niche.

Description: Alastor reencounters an old friend.

Word Count: 2,871

Master Lists:

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Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

A/N i’ve been reading about roman magic laws for school okay?? don’t judge me. Maybe one of the nichest things I've ever written (except that one Akutagawa x Reader fic I have on my Wattpad where I made them talk to one another in ancient Greek and Latin (its called Leo, Leonis and tbh, that fic slaps if I do say so myself)). Won't be surprised if no one reads or likes this one but I don't care. This will be a monster of a fic, she's been lurking in the recesses of my mind for a hot second now.

"Why would she lie for so long? Does she think I wouldn't accept her?" Charlie was animatedly talking at Alastor as they walked the streets of Hell, "What about me, ME, says un understanding... misunderstanding?... Disunder- Wait, w-where are we?"

Alastor sprung to life as Charlie finally asked a question he had an answer to. Theatrically, he stepped into her curious line of sight, his arms held wide.

"Cannibal Town!" respectfully, Alastor turned and took Charlie's arm in his own, "There's a friend of mine I think you should meet."

"In Cannibal Town?" Charlie doubtfully asked as Alastor began to lead her towards a crowded shop entrance, "But it's... it's... surprisingly nice here."

"Isn't it, though?" Alastor proudly replied, "And it is all thanks to a very special someone."

Alastor opened the stained glass doors to the emporium, allowing Charlie to walk through them before he followed in her wake. The store was full, packed to the brim with cannibals of all sorts, all of whom seemed to part respectfully in the face of Alastor, allowing him to approach the front counter with Charlie trailing after him.

"Ah, Johnny my good fellow." Alastor hummed to the cashier, leaning casually on the counter.

The demon seated behind the table looked up with a wide smile.

"Mister Alastor, it has been quite a while since we've seen your face around these parts."

Charlie watched the interaction in mild surprise. It wasn't often she had the pleasure of meeting someone Alastor knew who didn't hate him or want him dead. Curiosity clouded her mind as Alastor waved the man off.

"I don't mean to be rude but, we're in a bit of a rush." Alastor said, politeness pooling delicately around his words, "Rosie wouldn't happen to be in, would she?"

"Ah, well, you see, Mister Alastor..." the demon seemed slightly uncomfortable, scratching at his ear slightly, "She's a tad... preoccupied at the moment?"

"A guest?" Alastor asked.

"A guest." Johnny reluctantly confirmed.

"Well, no matter. Is she in the back?"

"Yes," Johnny got to his feet, leaning forward as Alastor linked arms with Charlie once again, leading her behind the counter, "but I really don't think it's a good idea to... and they're gone."

"Wasn't that rude?" Charlie asked as Alastor pulled her behind the curtain that separated the main store from the backrooms and Rosie's apartment, "Oh no, is that guy going to get in trouble? Because of us?"

"Everything will be just fine my dear, don't you worry." Alastor patted her hand reassuringly as they came to stop before a door.

Letting Charlie's arm fall free, he straightened his jacket just the slightest bit before knocking on the door. There was a moment of silent anticipation before a voice from the other side called:

"Who is it?!"

"Alastor, Rosie." Alastor replied calmly.

There was a rustling of fabric, a handful of hasty footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal a woman. She was tall and beautiful in her long dress and her wide brimmed hat.

"Oh my stars!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, "Do my eyes deceive me? Alastor? Alastor! Where have you been? These halls really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence and-"

The woman, Rosie, trailed off as she caught sight of Charlie standing beside her dear friend.

"Oh, who's this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you. Oh, I'm just kidding. But where are your manners, Mister? Introduce us, why don't you?"

"Ah, yes, Charlie, this is Rosie: the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the pentagram."

At his words, Rosie smiled, giving a perfect curtsy. It was as her form lowered that Charlie caught sight of the interior of the room, and the strange seated figure it housed. Alastor seemed not to have noticed and as Rosie straightened herself up again, she laughed slightly.

"Oh, always such a charmer."

"And Rosie," Alastor continued, "it is my pleasure to introduce you to Princess Charlie Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer and heir to the throne of Hell."

Charlie smiled weakly, waving slightly at the imposing and nearly off-puttingly cheerful woman.

"How do you do?" she asked awkwardly, "I am very sorry for interrupting your meeting, I tried to get Alastor to wait but..."

"Oh, yes!" Rosie suddenly exclaimed, almost as if she had forgotten about her previous guest in all the excitement, "Come on in you two, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Charlie was about to protest when Rosie grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the room. Alastor followed, turning his back as he shut the door behind them. Charlie's mouth fell open slightly as her eyes finally saw the truth of Rosie's guest.

She was tall, probably tall enough to rival Alastor or Rosie herself. Skin tinged slightly blue, she seemed to be covered in a faint gold dust that clung to her draped, toga-like dress and skin in equal amount. Heaps of gold jewelry hung on every inch of her as well, wrapping her wrists, her neck, her ankles, her fingers, even braided into her hair. Resting atop her head was a crown of gold with a half moon on it, her feet were bare. With wide, white eyes that nearly seemed unseeing, the woman watched Charlie carefully.

"Can I offer you something to eat?" Rosie was asking, but Charlie could barley hear her, unable to break eye contact with the woman, "I'm sure I have a leg around here or something..."

"I am afraid were not here for food." Alastor thankfully stepped in, turning to Rosie with closed eyes and a wide smile, "We happen to be in need of some help."

"Alastor?" the woman spoke and her voice resounded in itself, loud yet soft at the same time, singular and yet somehow plural.

"Well, aren't you fresh."

That was the first thing she had ever said to him. Alastor had been wandering Hell, minding his own business when he had heard that voice say those words and felt a fire ignited in him. Slowly, he had turned around to see a pair of towering demons. Overlords, he realized, and big ones at that. Alastor's smile sharpened at its edges as he began to formulate a plan.

Charlie turned at last, as if whatever spell the stranger had cast on her had broken at the sound of her voice, to look at Alastor in mild confusion. She heard his breath hitch in his throat. The man in question was frozen, his ears twitching wildly, his eyes now wide open.

"Is that you?" the demon asked again.

Alastor somehow seemed to reassemble himself before their very eyes. Slowly, he turned to the room's only occupied chair.

"Who are you?"

Alastor feigned innocence, looking up at the titan herself as she took a step forward. In an instant, she stood at his height, looking him dead in the eyes.

"An odd one too." she hummed thoughtfully, white eyes tracking the stars, reading his future it almost seemed, "Most people go with what before who."

Alastor was unsure how to respond to that one. The titan chuckled, a grin flashing across her face. It was unexpected, disconcerting. Alastor hadn't thought her face capable of any expression save solemn disinterest. She turned her head slightly to the side, looking back over her shoulder to her companion.

"Zestial, cara mea?"

The spidery demon took a step forward, meeting her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Don't you have something you need to be getting to?"

Alastor may have been dumbstruck, but he wasn't stupid. He heard the order as clearly as if she had not bothered with the formalities of disguising it. It shocked Alastor to his core. This might be his first time encountering Zestial but, he had heard the demon's name before. Most frequently, it had been spat at him by his victims who claimed that one of Hell's oldest and most respected demons would come for him. So who was this other overlord, the titan? Sure, he'd heard of her before but enough that such blatant disrespect towards Hell's most respected made sense? No. Not at all, in fact.

Zestial paused a moment before bowing his head slightly.

"You're quite right." he hummed, "I will be seeing you presently I expect?"

"Perchance." the titan lazily replied, her gaze having long since switched back to Alastor, set on analyzing his features, "I'll let you know."

With another polite bow, Zestial had turned and began walking in the opposite direction. The titan held an arm out for Alastor. He looked at it curiously before meeting the demon's eye's again. She laughed.

"So suspicious. I thought you we're the one killing overlords, not me."

His eyes went wide.

"How do you..." he cleared his throat, "how did you know?"

It was a stupid question and he knew it. There hadn't been any secret keeping, not really. Sure, he never outright said he was the Radio Demon who broadcasted screams but he supposed there couldn't be many Radio Demon's out there really. It didn't matter that he had only been going after overlords for a month or so now, she was one. Of course she would know.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

All it took was one look. Suddenly, he was new again, spat fresh out of life on Earth and in to Hell's gaping maw. One look at her, and he dissolved at the edges, forming and reforming his own ability to speak and comprehend the world around him.

"It is." the woman hummed, a wide smile breaking across her face, revealing the blackness of her teeth, her mouth.

Alastor soon formed a bit of a soft spot for the inhuman overlord. It was that first meeting, that first walk. He had asked, hunting for information to wield against her, about her life on Earth and in Hell. It was her fault really, for answering. That's what had him stuck.

Y/n had laid her life out for him like a freshly pressed table cloth. She had been raised on the streets of ancient Rome and executed as a witch. She was perhaps the oldest demon remaining in Hell, the exterminations having eventually wiped out even the strongest members of her times. Just as Alastor had been reborn as a deer due to his death, so too was she reborn as what they had accused her of. Every ritual, every spell, prophecy itself all worked for her. It was then Alastor understood the interaction he had witnessed between Zestial and Y/n, then he understood the respect.

He found himself drawn to her more and more and, somehow, he always seemed to be able to find her when he went searching. He assumed it was some strange magical nonsense she controlled. Alastor didn't question it.

Y/n showed him Hell in a way he had never seen it before. She taught him where to gather herbs and how to use them, how to bend the earth to his will, how to spin iunges and call down the storms, the rain, the moon. Alastor devoured, fed by her hand.

It was odd, Charlie had never seen a demon like her before. The white eyes, the teeth black with what seemed to be darkness, the gold. All of it was off putting yet somehow, captivating. Alastor seemed to be acting weird, his eyes flitting wildly across the woman, taking in her every detail. Charlie wasn't sure what to do about that.

In some sense, Alastor seemed to be scared. In another, he was in an overjoyed state of disbelief. Charlie wasn't sure which was more disconcerting, or how to respond to either and so, she simply watched.

"I have a question, mea ocella."

Y/n announced one day and Alastor turned from where he sat spinning stories into his microphone at her feet. That was what she had called him, her little eye. She told him it was a term of endearment. Alastor had no reason to doubt. The red grass swayed slightly in the breeze as he looked up at her, immediately bringing a halt to his broadcast.

"What is it?"

"You've been so set on ending all us overlords for so long now," she hummed, "wouldn't you like to do something different?"

"Something like what?"

"See from the other side of the glass."

Her white eyes glowed blue, the gold on her skin shining out into the world around like stars. Alastor sighed.

"You're prophesying again."

She nodded in agreement. Y/n had never seen the point in lying, she had never known its use. Not since before she could remember, back in the times she lived. They were so distant now, so immaterial and unimportant she rarely payed those memories much mind.

"So, what is it you see me doing?"

"Simple riddle or play on words?"

The two types of prophesy, the two options. Alastor put a finger to his chin, humming in thought.

"Simple riddle. Please, not in dactylic hexameter if you would, decoding that always gives me a headache."

"But that has been the meter of prophecy since Justice herself sat on the Delphic throne, mea ocella." Y/n retorted in surprise, meeting Alastor's eyes.

"Yeah, well."

Y/n laughed lightly, looking back out blankly toward the future.

"As you wish, ocella. Just this once. My gift to you."

Alastor hummed his non-comital thanks, turning his gaze back out the the skyline of the city as well.

"One will be two, two will be four, when that number comes be ready for more. Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next. Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three."

"Rhymes? Really?"

Y/n looked down at him, the glow fading from her as their eyes met and the future vanished from the scope of her vision.

"You asked for no hexameter, I still get to have fun."

"Yeah, yeah."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence. Alastor ran the words of her fortune in his head, trying to gain any semblance of reason from them.

"They don't sound very... avoidable."

"That's because it's not one of the ones you can change."

"Oh."

Y/n pulled herself to her feet suddenly, her chiton swirling around her. Alastor watched in awe as her image flickered in the air for a moment between the image of herself just a head shorter than him, the one who loomed around nine feet tall, and some three headed monster at what must've been five stories. Leaning, she held a hand out for him to grasp. It took Alastor a moment to realize, shaking his head slightly as he at last accepted Y/n's help and got to his feet.

"Where are we going?"

"I've decided you are going to be an overlord, mea ocella."

"Why?"

"I think it might help you down the line."

It had been years since Alastor had seen her. Long before he had taken his so called seven year sabbatical, Y/n had vanished. Alastor knew she wasn't dead, he would have been able to tell if she was dead. Surly the world would have shifted in some new and strange way to lose the goddess of the crossroads, the titan, Hekate made flesh and blood. Nothing like that had happened and so he knew she was alive, just not where or how.

Y/n's prophecies were always accurate. Standing here before her now, Alastor recalled her words from all those decades before.

One will be two, two will be four. When that number comes, be ready for more.

One had been just him. Two? When he had died and met his shadow. Alastor realized now that three had been Y/n herself and that the fourth important person who had come into his afterlife was the very person who owned his soul.

Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next.

Seven years he'd been gone, indeed under an unexpected and disastrous situation. When, after seven long years, he had returned to Hell, he had gone to the hotel. It was at the Hazbin Hotel that he not only met Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, and Sir Pentious but that they became vital parts of his life along with Husk and Nifty who before then had mostly existed on the periphery. Those six, plus the original four, made ten.

Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three.

All along, all those years ago, she had known. Alastor had always respected Y/n, always harbored a soft and disconcerting love for the witch. Never before now had either felt so overwhelming. Alastor took a trembling step forward from his place at Charlie's side. The world closed in, she was the only thing he could see.

Y/n smiled as he sunk to his knee before her, his head bowed.

"Mea ocella." she happily hummed, lifting his head up gently with the tips of her bluish grey fingers.

"Y/n."

----

This fic will probably have a part two.

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

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mayfieldss · 1 year

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Heyy girlie, can I have a Conrad Fisher x Fem!reader where reader is bellys best friend, come down for the summer and ends up secretly hooking up with conrad here and there. They agreed to no strings attached but maybe Connie couldn't help but fall in love? Xoxo ❤️

Guy falls first trope my beloved

A little more - Conrad Fisher

Warnings; sexual innuendos, language, mentions of underage drinking.

Conrad hadn't intended for this to happen. His relationship with you was supposed to be no strings attached, simply business and pleasure, but somehow in the process of it all, Conrad had gone mad.

He thought of you, outside of the nights you spent together and the sheets you would tangle yourselves in. He imagined himself with you free from the sneaking around and the hook-ups.

You were Belly's best friend, and earlier in the year after getting intoxicated beyond measure you and Conrad had spent the night together. It was meant to be a one-time thing. One night of your skin against his, Conrad's lips on yours. Somehow in the mix of it all, you and Conrad had made a deal. Sex, no strings attached, no feelings involved, and nobody should know. At the time Conrad was okay with that, nights spent with you when he needed some relief, but somewhere along the line, Conrad had begun needing and wanting you as more than just a body to hold in the darkness.

Soon, summer would be over, and everyone would leave cousins behind until the next year, and that meant Conrad had a limited time with you. There was no telling if Belly would bring you back with her next year, either. Maybe bringing her best friend along was a one-time thing. Perhaps Conrad ran the risk of never seeing you again outside of occasions such as Belly's birthday parties. He hated to think about that, but what he found worse was that you probably didn't care about such a thing. As far as Conrad knew you were oblivious to his feelings for you, how they had grown over the nights you spent with him.

"Earth to Conrad!" It's Jeremiah, waving from across the kitchen. "Dude, get your ass moving, Belly and Y/N are back."

The sound of your name gets Conrad up, and he jumps down from the counter where he was sitting. When he makes it to the driveway, you and Belly are struggling with far too many grocery bags.

"You said you were just gonna get a couple of things, not hundreds." Conrad takes the bags from you, trying his best not to smile too broadly. If he does it might just reveal to the others how much time you and Conrad have really spent together. It might also let you see behind the curtain of his feelings, he's not sure he's ready to tell you how he feels yet.

"We got carried away." You look to Belly with a grin, Jeremiah laughing as he takes the rest of the bags

"We can see that."

It almost stops Conrad's heart when you push past him, shoulder brushing against his as you lift bottles of chocolate milk and juice up in your arms. He can't comprehend whether the contact was made on purpose or not, and he follows close behind as you wander into the house.

You head straight to the fridge to put the beverages away, Conrad dumping the bags he holds onto the counter with Jeremiah close behind. Conrad wants so badly to talk to you at that moment, and he hates himself for thinking about some kind of domestic lifestyle with you. It's been one summer after all, and somehow in the short time Conrad was blessed with your presence, such strong feelings have arisen.

He clears his throat before he can stop himself, and you turn, the refrigerator door falling shut as you do. Jeremiah eyes him closely too, and he knows then that he can't do this. Not now, not here. It's not fair of him to put you on the spot in front of Jeremiah and Belly. If he's going to confess how he feels, which Conrad is still not sure he can do, he's going to do it privately where he can gauge your genuine reaction. No outside components involved. So, Conrad walks away, acting as though he had never intended to say anything at all.

Conrad had spent more than enough time thinking about how he would broach the subject of his feelings to you, and in the end, he felt there was no possible way he could plan for it. You sat beside the pool with Belly, laughing with your feet in the water, and as much as Conrad knew you would hate him for it, he called out your name. When you looked up, the shock of it was all over your face.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" Conrad speaks again, taking note of the way Belly glances between the two of you as if you are a foreign species about to do a peculiar dance.

You stand, slowly, and make your way to him, Conrad moving inside and away from the curious ears of Belly Conklin.

"I want to talk about us." He's careful with his words, and they feel foreign on his tongue. Us, as in you and Conrad together. It feels odd to say.

"What about us?" You look around as you say it, arms folding over your chest in discomfort. He hates to make you feel that way, but he can't keep hiding how he feels, not when summers almost gone.

"I want us to be something." It's a weird way to put it, but it's all Conrad can think of to say. "Something more than whatever the fuck we've been doing." He finds himself reaching for you, pulling your arms away from your chest so he can take your hands in his own. "I know we said no strings attached, but I fucking like you—a lot."

You can't seem to meet his eyes, dodging his gaze expertly as he gives your hands a gentle squeeze. He wanted your honest reaction, and he guesses this is it, though it's not the one he wanted. "Y/N, please look at me." He stares you down, and when you finally lock your eyes with his, he doesn't know what to think. You seem scared, and Conrad worries he might be the source of your fears.

"Belly is my best friend Conrad, this can't happen, even if I wanted it to."

"So you admit, you want more than what we have?" It sounds harsh when the words leave him, and Conrad doesn't intend it to be that way. He's just desperate, for you.

"Conrad," His name from your lips would be soothing, if not for the situation. He still holds your hands in his own, and he intertwines your fingers with his, hoping that it might mean something to you, and get you to change your mind. All you do is shake your head and he curses his bad luck that the one person he needs, he can't have.

"Y/N, please. Just give me one shot, give us one shot." He's pulled you just that little bit closer, a risky move considering anyone could walk in and catch you any second. He does it anyway, and you don't stop him. That's enough for him to lean in further, and then he waits. He's so close to you that the tip of his nose brushes against yours and the anticipation of his lips so close drives him crazy. When you close the gap he knows you feel the same. Even if he can't be with you, even if Belly and the others hold you back, he knows you have something.

"Don't make me wait till next summer." He whispers the words with his forehead pressed to yours when your lips break apart, looking down at his hands holding yours. He's in love, but he doesn't know when it happened, or how.

"There's no guarantee Belly will want me to come with her next year Con." It's a harsh truth that has to be spoken. There's no way Belly would let you come with her again next year if she knew what you and Conrad had been doing all summer. Maybe he could invite you back himself, but that wouldn't be fair on you or Belly. The only person that would be happy with the arrangement would be Conrad, and was he really that selfish?

"You have to leave in a week." The words are so quiet because even Conrad himself doesn't want to hear them. He says them anyway, hands moving up to hold your wrists. His grasp is gentle, but he can feel your pulse through his fingers and it reminds him just how real you are. He'd done that a lot over the last couple of weeks, and every time it hit him like a shockwave, a reminder that everything you had was reality and not just some distant dream.

"Do you want us to be more? Don't think about anyone else, just give me a yes or no." His eyes are pleading, and he knows it's unfair on you but he needs the answer. He needs to know.

"I really like you, Conrad," You bring a hand up to touch the side of his face, so gently that the touch is hardly registered against his skin. "But you know we can't."

"That's not an answer." He's determined and with each second that passes, that desperate feeling grows inside him, a weed that he can't remove from the garden.

You let out a sigh, shifting your gaze to the floor beside you, "We agreed on this being a no-strings-attached type of deal, and I hate that I'm attached to you now, but that's the rule, Conrad. That's the promise we made."

"I don't care about that promise." He's dead serious and when you turn to look at him again, he knows you are too. You shake your head, moving away from him.

"We can't."

A few days pass and Conrad knows your avoiding him. The days go by slowly, you don't answer his texts, and he hardly sees you around the beach house. You're around of course, and you act as though everything is fine so as to not draw attention to your sudden distaste for Conrad's presence, but you work hard to keep appearances where he may be to a minimum. Conrad called you a few times late at night too, hoping if anything to go back to the way things were before he confessed just so he could spend some time with you. You didn't pick up.

"Hey, where's Y/N?" it's the day before you leave Cousins, and Conrad can't help but ask Belly where you may be. He needs to talk to you, make sure everything is okay before you leave him and the beach house behind.

Belly's expression is one of confusion when she looks to him, a frown gracing her forehead as she shovels cereal through her lips. "What is it with you and her, something's going on."

Conrad can only shrug, wondering what you would do if he blew your cover. If he did maybe it would be easier to have a conversation with you, even if you were yelling at him, at least he would have you talking. But he doesn't want to hurt you and outing your little arrangement over the last month might just do that.

"I just want to know where she is Belly."

It's as if you know what he's doing because in the next moment his phone dings, and as he stares down at the screen it's your name that reflects against his eyes. He dashes out the door as soon as he sees it, ignoring Belly's concerned calls after him as he races to the sand dunes. When he gets there, you're waiting for him, knees hugged to your chest.

"You got my text." You look up when he's right beside you, and he lets out an exasperated laugh.

"It doesn't seem like you got many of mine." It's a dig at the way you'd been avoiding him and Conrad knows it's risky to say, but he does so anyway. He is a little annoyed with you after all.

"I'm sorry, I needed time to think." You shuffle over in the sand, an invitation for him to sit with you. He takes it gratefully, settling down at your side.

"You're leaving soon." His voice is quiet, and he waits. You say nothing, instead opting to rest your head on his shoulder, the silence enveloping you both. It's enough though, a gesture that tells Conrad just how much you'll miss him when summer is over. He rests his head over yours, and you wait together for your summer to reach its end.

On the final day, Conrad is at his limit. Watching you pack your things is almost too much for him, even though he knew it was coming. You'd said goodbye to him privately earlier in the day, a kiss or two exchanged, but Conrad hated it. It felt too final like he would never be seeing you again, and he refused to see that as a fact.

Now, you stand by the car, hugging Susannah goodbye. His mother strokes your hair lovingly, muttering something to you that he can't hear, and he can't believe summer is over. His summer with you, perhaps the only one he will get, is over. You're heading toward the car when he makes his decision, and the way his legs carry him over to you is almost abnormal. It's almost as though he has no control over his own body, his mind consumed with the thought of you, making his limps force their way to your figure.

"Y/N, wait." Your name falls from his lips smooth, his tongue so used to saying the word. You turn fast as if you'd been waiting for him. He hopes you were.

Conrad is selfish. He wants to be selfish and he's made his decision about that. He's willing to live with it, because, in the next moment, he's kissing you, bringing you into him in front of his family and friends, and making a statement that is full of risk and passion. But the best part is, he doesn't care how they'll react. Kissing you makes him feel alive as if he's a decent human being worthy of something, and if this is the last time he gets to feel that way, so be it. So he kisses you, and you kiss him back, that being a type of relief no drug can provide. He doesn't know what will happen when he pulls away, when your lips part from his, but for now, he doesn't want to find out. He's willing to stay in this moment as long as he can and deal with the rest of it later because what he has with you is complicated, but it sure is worth it.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads @hiya-its-amber @s00buwu

TSITP TAGLIST: @things-that-make-sa-happy

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fics-a-plenty · 8 months

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Goodbyes Aren't Always For Long

spawn!Astarion x gn!reader x Halsin

WC: 1,264

TW: SPOILERS FOR ENDING, angst, talk of abandonment, mention to Astarion's past, "Daddy Halsin", not proofread

So I finished my first playthrough of the game yesterday, and I sobbed. Can you guess what I was the most upset about?

I have been wanting to include some of the other companions as background characters, but I'm not sure who to include. Who would you guys like to see in the future?

As always, enjoy!

"This is selfish, Halsin! And that's coming from me!" Astarion hissed, pacing back and forth through the rented room, seeming to be the only one no frozen in place. There was quiet in response to his statement, as the taller elf stood in front of the door, his eyes downcast.

"It isn't though, Astarion." You popped up from your place at the end of the bed, your body too heavy from the news you were processing through.

"It is!" The pale elf yells in your direction, though you can recognize the pain heavier in his voice than the anger. "You wormed your way into our hearts, into our minds, and now that we have the chance to all be together, just us, you turn tail and run!" His words once again turned to Halsin, who just responded with a deep sigh. "We've spent so long worrying about other people, about the world. Now we have the chance to focus on ourselves. Focus on us."

"I've had too many moment of selfishness on this quest so far. I fled from the Grove, twice, when they needed me most. I left poor Thaniel and Oliver when they were at their most vulnerable. I can't turn my back to the thousands of people that need help now." Halsin said, the slight shake in his voice would probably go unnoticed by anyone who didn't know him deeper. "I would give anything to stay with here with you two, to help find some way for you to feel the sun on your skin again, but I can't ignore where I'm truly needed."

"Here! You're truly needed here!" Astarion shouted again, finally taking steps towards the other man. The quiet sound of his name coming from your lips causing him to turn on his heels. "And you! How are you so okay with this?! You brought us together. You lead the three of us headlong into this love, and now you just sit there as it falls to pieces!"

"You think I'm okay with this?!" You finally shout back, standing from the bed. "You think i want to see either of you leave? You think I want us all to be separated after everything I've done for us, for the world?" Your words causing the two pairs of elf eyes to cast down, one in guilt and the other to hide the tears glossing his eyes. "What do you recommend I do in this moment, Astarion? Chain him to the bed and keep him here as some hostage? Keep him where he is obviously unhappy? I figured that if anyone was against that, it would be you!"

The meaning of your last sentence caused him to tense, crossing his arms over his chest as if to protect himself from the memories.

"Everything I did, all the battles we fought, and the people we killed, I did it for everyone to be free to make their own choices. So if either of you want to leave, then leave! I can say over and over how much I want you both here, for you both to be at my side, but if your heart is pulling you somewhere else, then who am I to stop you?" Your eyes shifted to meet Halsin's with a sad smile, mostly inviting him to make his escape if he truly meant to leave.

Astarion stood unusually quiet, his body tensing more and more with each step that sounded behind him as the druid walked to the door. His eyes closing tight as Halsin mentioned his damned Oak Father watching over you both and returning you to him some day before the door clicked closed.

You both stood frozen for a few moments, not really sure what to do with yourselves. The sound of multiple children's calling Halsin's name and running to greet him as he walked outside to meet the wagons that he would be traveling with floating through the window. It drew you over, pushing the curtain aside as you looked down at the people your partner had set off to help. While the sun hadn't quiet crested the horizon, you were still careful not to open the cover too much, not wanting to expose Astarion to any stray rays of the light.

The pair of hands at your sides caused you to lean back into the body behind you as a head rested against your shoulder. "And what shall we do now that 'Daddy Halsin' is off on a new adventure without us?" The two of you couldn't help but giggle at the nickname your partner has been bestowed with.

Your eyes slowly shifted from the large druid as you scanned over the line of wagons full of people. While you were happy that he was off to help people and follow his dream, your heart ached at the feeling like a part of your was missing. That was until it began to race, your spine straightening as an idea struck you.

"That depends, want to make a selfish decision with me?" You asked, quickly turning your head to look at Astarion's confused face.

"Do you know me to turn down selfish decision, Love?" His playful smirk didn't really reach his eyes, which still showed with curiosity to your meaning.

Halsin shushed the children down as he tried his best to herd them back into the wagon that would carry them on their journey, most of their eyes growing heavy from how early the caravan had decided to leave, wanting to be on the road before the sun got up and warmed the path too much. As the wagons began to move forward, his eyes moved to the windows of the room you three had spent the night before, hoping to catch a last glimpse of you and Astarion, not knowing when he would see you two again. To his dismay, the curtains were shut and still.

After hearing a heavy sigh, he began to move on with the wagons. Though he didn't get more than a few steps before a commotion behind him caused him to turn. His lips split into a smile as he watched you running to keep up with Astarion, who was rushing to the shelter of the covered wagon carrying barrels and boxes of food. A deep laugh rumbled in his chest as you bee lined for him, jumping at him and forcing his arms to rush to catch you.

"You didn't really think you would get to run off on a new adventure without us, did you?" Your voice rang out with laughter once he set you down.

"I wouldn't dream of it." The two of you smiled at a moment before he lifted you into the wagon with Astarion, moving to follow behind it.

"Except for the fact that you did dream of it, and you did actually get away for a few minutes." Astarion sassed, earning his a slap to the chest, "What?! He really thought we were gonna let him leave alone for a few minutes there!"

"And they were pure torture without you both." Halsin responded, placing his hand over his heart, "The Oak Father has smiled upon me and made our separation brief."

"Good save, 'Daddy Halsin'." Astarion smirked, sending the larger elf a wink before the three of you fall into laughter. The caravan continued on it's path towards a new life for many of the people in it, and while it probably wouldn't be easy, it definitely paled in comparison to anything the three of you has already been through together.

#astarion x reader x halsin #astarion x reader #halsin x reader #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #reader insert

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scandalcus · 1 year

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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 — ♡ 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒

pairing ; ellie williams x fem!reader summary ; you stop by ellie's place in the middle of the night and surprise her with some weed content warnings ; smut, scissoring, choking, explicit language, drug use (marijuana), mutual pining, both ellie and reader are high and super horny, etc. word count ; 3.2k a/n ; this fic is for the anon that requested scissoring. i kind of went overboard and ended up with this (*/ω＼*) unfortunately i couldn't find a way include face riding. i took some inspo from the scene in the game where ellie and dina smoke, i just added my own twist. i hope you like it. feedback is always welcome. (btw i didn't really proofread & kind of rushed towards the end so sorry for any mistakes, i will probably fix them later)

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓, 18+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘, 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

Whenever you’re bored, or lonely, or just in need of some company, you somehow always find yourself standing on Ellie's doorstep. It never bothered her though. As long as you guys were just friends, she would never admit that almost every night she finds herself anticipating your arrival, that is if you choose to even come.

So here you are, standing in front of her door at two o'clock in the morning, hoping she wasn't too tired to ignore your knocks. You shivered and watched snowflakes fall to the ground as you waited for her to answer the door. Majority of the town was asleep, except for the people guarding the perimeter of course. Your attention is caught by the curtain behind her window being pushed aside, Ellie's face peaking through the opening. You wave at her and gesture for her to open the door.

The curtain closes and you hear the lock on her doorhandle click, followed by Ellie opening the door, letting out a large yawn while she rubbed her eyes. "What are you doing here?" She asks, squinting her eyes at you. "I have a surprise for you. Well, us." you said with a soft grin on your face. She stares at you blankly, like she didn't process a single word you said to her.

“Can I come in? It's cold.” you ask. “Yeah, sorry.” Ellie says, moving aside so you can enter. You walk past Ellie, hearing the door shut behind you as you head for her couch, throwing your bag on the floor in the process. “Sorry for showing up unannounced so late, I couldn't sleep.” you say, pulling your boots off and tossing them to the side. Ellie starts to make her way towards you, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

“What's up?” she says, clearly still waking up, you proceed to pull your jacket off of yourself and place it behind you. “Do you want to see your surprise?” you ask excitedly, searching for your backpack. “Oh um- can you hand me my bag?” you say looking at your bag on the floor behind her.

"Surprise?" She asks, turning around to grab your bag, her eyes still slightly squinted as they adjust to the lighting. She plopped your bag between the two of you. You roll your eyes and sigh as you reach for your bag.

“Okay, nevermind then.” she says with an attitude in response to your silence. You ignore her and continue searching your bag. She leans back into the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest as she watches you scavenge through your bag.

“Found it!” you say, a huge grin on your face as you pull out a Ziplock bag with a few couple of joints, holding it up to your face and watching Ellie’s entire demeanor change.

She snatches the bag from you, examining it in her hands with wide eyes. “Wha- is this weed?” she asks in a much livelier tone that before. “No shit.” you chuckle, watching her pull a joint out of the baggie and hold it under her nose, taking a deep sniff and letting out a sigh. “Where’d you get this?” She says excitedly, scanning the room for a lighter.

“Me and Jesse found it while we were on patrol today.” you say, reclining into her sofa and crossing your legs, watching as Ellie hurriedly walks over to her desk, going through drawers until she pulls a lighter out of one. “It turns out Eugene had a hideout in a library where he grew weed in the basement. I had to sneak it though, you know how uptight Jesse can be.” you say rolling your eyes.

“That's fucking sick! You have to show me next time we have a patrol together.” she says excitedly, sitting back down and placing a joint between her lips.

“Give me that.” you say, snatching the joint out of her mouth and taking the lighter out of her hand, putting the joint to your lips. She gives back a slightly offended look, before scoffing and leaning back.

You flick the spark wheel on the lighter, having to try a couple times before finally igniting it. You bought the flame to the tip of the joint and inhaled until you felt your lungs fill with smoke. You look up at Ellie to see her staring at you, a soft expression across her face as she was secretly admiring you. You lean towards her, noticing her breathing halt for a second and her body tense up. You break eye contact to look at her lips for a brief moment, before averting your gaze back into hers. Once you're a couple inches away from her face, you playfully blow a cloud of smoke into her face, causing her to cough.

"You're an asshole." she says, wafting the smoke away from her face and using her other hand to grab the joint from you. You let out a giggle in response, resting your head on your fist and watching her take a hit. "I have a question for you," you say abruptly. Ellie looks up at you while exhaling, holding the joint out for you.

"What is it?" she asks, watching as you ash the joint and bring it up to your lips. She observes how the paper burns and the cherry of the joint lights up as you inhale. She bit her bottom lip, becoming more and more impatient by the second, waiting suspensefully to hear what your question is.

You take your hit and pass the joint back to her. "What would you do.." you pause for a second, contemplating for a brief moment whether you should complete the question or not. "What would you do if I tried to kiss you right now?" you asked softly, your heart rate jumping a bit as you wait for a response.

You always had a thing for Ellie, but never attempted to make a move due to fear of rejection. Maybe it was the weed, you hadn't smoked in awhile because y'know, you're in a post apocalyptic world, weed isn't as easily available as it used to be. Neither of you have any type of tolerance built, so it didn't take long to feel the effects of the weed. Regardless, you suddenly felt confident enough and decided to finally test the waters. You came to the realization that you and Ellie had a much more intimate "friendship" than others do. You guys both knew each others deepest, darkest secrets and that's because you guys have lots of trust in each other. You've always noticed the way Ellie would look at you, you never put much thought into it and figured she looked at everyone that way, but it just felt personal. You would also recognize the way her breathing would hitch anytime you accidently brushed your body against hers, or the way she would always come up with some lame excuse just to touch you, even if it was for a short moment. You always disregarded it though, because if she did like you she totally would've told you by now; unless she felt the same way.

You study her expression, anticipating her response. Her cheeks burned with red, you can tell the question caught her off guard. She sat up, her expression showing slight confusion. "What are you doing?" she asks softly, finally taking a hit off the joint.

"I asked what you would do if I tried to kiss you." you say shyly, tilting you head a little bit. "I don't know." she responds with a shrug, averting her gaze to the joint in her hand before deciding to look back up to you. She didn't know what to make of that question, and tried her hardest to seem composed by responding in a nonchalant tone, meanwhile her heart feels like its literally about to pump through her chest. Her mind was racing. The thought of you two kissing has definitely crossed her mind, actually she's thought of doing a lot more than kissing with you. She would always take the chance to admire your lips when you wouldn't notice, imagining how soft they would feel on hers and how sweet you'd taste against her. She craved nothing more than to be kissed by you, but she wouldn't dare take the risk of ruining her friendship with you over it. She couldn't help but overthink of all the reasons you'd ask that question. Maybe you were trying to be funny, or maybe you were just high and genuinely curious. The thought of you actually wanting to kiss her never crossed her mind, she always assumed you would never see or think of her as more than a friend. "Why would you kiss me?" she asks, using the opportunity to steal another hit.

"Because..." you pause, Ellie hands you the joint mid sentence. You take another long drag, feeling Ellie's eyes fixated on you. You exhaled the smoke and then put out the joint in a mug sitting on her coffee table before shifting to face Ellie again. "Your lips look soft, and you look really hot when you have bed head and red eyes," you hesitate for a second, "and because I kind of have a crush on you.. and I just really, really want to kiss you right now." you say, awkwardly fiddling with your thumbs. You feel a shred of regret because it feels like it's taking forever for her to respond, but you also feel like a massive weight has been lifted off your shoulders since you finally admitted your feelings for her.

Ellies lets out a sign in relief, followed by a genuine smile. "Do you mean that?" she asks, doubting this is actually real life and she's just really high, imagining everything. "I do." you say, your body slowly gravitating closer to hers, watching as her eyes shift to your lips. She subtly scoots herself closer to you, her lips only a couple inches away from yours. "Can I kiss you?" you ask, your gaze jumping back and fourth between her eyes and lips. "No one is stopping you." she whispers, and with that you both lean into each other and find yourselves aggressively pressing your lips together. She cups your face and you put your arms around her neck as you exchange hot, sloppy kisses with each other. You find yourself leaning back and pulling her on top of you, keeping your lips attached to hers the entire time. Your highs amplified the intensity, both of you getting lost in each other. Ellie moved her arm under the small of your back, pulling your body to hers. You moaned into the kiss after feeling her toned arm tighten around you. You moved your hands to the hem of her top, letting your hands travel under her sweatshirt and your fingertips softly grazing her backside.

She slides her arm out from under you and unexpectedly pulled away, you let out a whine in response. She hovers over you, staring down at you as she catches her breath and licks your leftover saliva off her lips. She looked so. fucking. hot. You felt a rush of heat spread down to your core and you squeeze your thighs together, your pussy aching for her.

"Do you wanna go to my bed?" Ellie asks, moving her hand to your lower abdomen and wrapping the strings on your sweatpants around her finger. You remain silent for a moment before bursting into laughter, the weed in your system making itself known. "What's so funny?" she chuckles in response. "Nothing, I'm just high," you say catching your breath. "Also why haven't we done this sooner?" you ask, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"I don't know, I guess I thought that you didn't like me." She says, pushing herself off of you and standing up before reaching her hand out to you. "That's stupid." You say, grabbing her hand and following as she leads you to her bed.

You and Ellie get into the bed and lay side by side, both of you immediately closing the distance between yourselves. You both fight for dominance, but she quickly overpowers you and flips herself on top of you. You pull your sweater off, forgetting that you weren't wearing a bra under it. You blush, realizing your top half is completely exposed and turn your face away from her for a moment but you feel her staring at your breasts.

She opens her mouth but nothing comes out of it, you literally left her speechless. She did not mentally prepare herself enough to see you naked in front of her. She never would've expected you to be so direct in bed, you always portrayed yourself as confident to everyone, but Ellie knew you the most and how soft and shy you can get when you're put into situations where you have to be vulnerable. Even though she's never seen you this exposed before, you still felt comfortable around her. You knew she would never judge you, and maybe that's why you felt so good about yourself around her.

"I underestimated you." she says, resting on top of you and placing her head in the crook of your neck, making sure to leave a trail of hickeys. "How so?" you say, letting your hands travel to the hem of her shirt. You slide her sweatshirt up until her abdomen is exposed. You encourage her to take hoodie off, in which she complies.

"You're a lot more sexier in real life than I imagined." she says, making you pause for a second. "So you've thought about me before?" she tenses up for a moment, feeling slightly embarrassed to have admit that. "Yeah.." she says softly while looking down at you. "What do you do to me when you think about me?" you ask, curious as to what she imagines of you. "I don't know. I guess something I think about is you riding my face." she says, her cheeks turning a soft rosy color. You find yourself becoming more aroused at the thought of her touching herself while thinking about you. You wrap your legs around her, pulling her closer to you. "What else?" you ask eagerly. "I mean, I've thought about fingering you and stuff." she says, clearly she's not great at expressing her needs. She slides her fingers under the layers of your sweatpants and panties, encouraging you to take them off. She leans down to kiss you, letting her pull everything off of you during the session. Her hand finds its way in between your legs, and she runs her fingers through your soaking folds. "I can't believe I made you this wet." she breathes. Her fingertips find their way to your throbbing clit, gently stroking the nub. You moan against her lips, tugging at her bra. "It's not fair that I'm the only one naked." you whisper with your forehead against hers.

She reluctantly pulls her bra off, throwing it on the ground. She dives down to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses before reaching you breast and placing her mouth around your nipple. Your hands travel down to her jeans, and you start to unbutton her pants. She moves your hands and finishes unbuttoning her jeans herself, sliding them off of her and kicking them onto the ground. You lift yourself up to meet your lips back with hers, bringing your index and middle finger to her clit and rubbing in a circular motion. The whine that falls from her lips surprise you, sending a shiver through your body.

She pulls away from your and sits up on her knees. "Give me your leg." she demands. You lift up your leg and she puts it over her shoulder. She positions herself between your legs until your cunts are touching. You moan at the feeling of her warm and wet pussy against yours. She wraps her arm around your leg, her hand making its way around your neck. She slowly starts to grind against you, both of your throbbing clits massaging each others. You practically melt into her, squirming beneath her touch. She squeezes your neck, causing your eyes to roll back to your head. Moans spill from your mouth, the feeling of pure ecstasy tingling through your bodies.

Ellie's heavy breathing turns into whimpers, not caring to hold back anymore. "Fuck, you feel so good against me." she says, looking down and watching the way your cunts slide against each other. You shift your body to the side, lifting your hips up to give her more access to your pussy and roll against her, adding more friction. "Atta girl," she sighs, throwing her head back and squeezing your neck harder.

You wrap her hands around her arms as she digs her nails into your thigh. You can't help but admire her from this angle. Her mouth hung open as a string of whines and curse words escape her lips, sweat trickling down her face causing her hair to stick. Her breast gently bounce as she buries her pussy into yours.

You lean your head back and close your eyes, everything was happening so fast yet it felt like you two were going in slow motion. Your high boosting the pleasure. Waves of euphoria went through your body. Everything else in the world besides you and Ellie seemed to disappear for the moment. Judging by how disheveled and blissed out Ellie looked, you assume she felt the same way.

"Fuck-" she spat, her chest rising up and down abnormally fast. She dug her nails deeper into your thigh, definitely leaving an indent. "I'm gonna cum." she cried, her clit pulsing against yours. "Me too." you breathed, a tear falling from your eye. The amount of pleasure you were experiencing was not like anything you've felt before. You both were practically screaming as you reached reached your climax.

You felt her fluids spill onto your heat, her body quivering as she continues to ride out her high against you. You follow her orgasm shortly after her, shockwaves are sent throughout your body.

She lays down next to you, staring at the celling. Both of you just taking a moment to gather yourselves, trying to catch your breaths. "Holy shit, that was fucking hot." she exhales, looking over at you. You nod in agreement, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asks, sitting up, her breathing still heavy. You ignore her and walk over to her coffee table, grabbing the joint and the lighter and returning back to bed beside her. You pull the cover over you and light the joint, inhaling until the cherry is decently lit.

"Here." you say, exhaling smoke. You hold out the joint for her and she willingly takes to her lips and smokes it. You lay on your side to look watch Ellie, her skin still glistening from the hot and sweaty sex you just had.

"Remember what you said about me riding your face?" you asks as she passes the joint to you. "Yeah.." she says, watching you take your hit. "Let's try that next time." you say suggestively as Ellie takes the joint from you. "So there'll be a next time?" she asks, looking over at you. "Definitely."

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #wlw smut #lesbian smut #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams blurb #tlou #tlou2

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kepamount · 1 year

Text

let me love you

mason mount x reader - one-night stand, smut and fluff

warnings: discussion and consumption of alcohol, brief mention of drugs, brief mention of infidelity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, praise and degradation, crying during sex, asphyxiation, overstimulation, i think that's it but pls lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 10.4k+

rating: M

a/n: hey guys! this is the first instalment of a new trilogy from the ariana grande series! the next two parts after this will be titled safety net and into you (after the two songs ofc), and hopefully it won't take me too long to get those out! this hasn't been proofread so pls forgive any mistakes lol. lmk what you think, hope you enjoy! <3

‘You alright, love? Can I-’ ‘I’m not interested,’ I respond shortly, not even looking in his direction as I pass by, following after Steph and Isla as they lead me through the club. We walked through the front entrance less than a minute ago, and I’ve already had four different guys try it on with me. They must really appreciate my skin-tight, tiny black dress, and the face of makeup I spent an hour doing.

The back room is cut off by a velvet rope, manned by four big and burly bouncers. They don’t even ask for our names or IDs, moving the rope out of our way as soon as we approach and letting us through without a word. I feel myself relax as soon as the curtain falls shut behind us, the music that was blasting in the main room becoming a low pulse in the background so I can actually hear myself think.

‘Benny!’ Steph exclaims when she spots her boyfriend across the room, forgetting about us and rushing over to him. I almost want to remind her that she’s here with her friends, but I can’t be annoyed when I see his face light up at the sight of her, his arms outstretched so she can fall into them, instantly dropping into his lap and pressing her lips to his.

‘You can go to your boyfriend as well, if you want,’ I say amusedly to Isla, the girl already making eye contact with Cal, the boy beckoning her over with a cocky head motion. ‘Nah, it’s girls’ night,’ she says, though she sounds completely unconvincing, and I roll my eyes. ‘Just go. I’ll be fine. Gonna get myself a drink, or five,’ I say drily, Isla laughing. ‘I’ll be back in a couple minutes though, okay?’ she promises, and I nod, watching her go and join him.

Most girls who have just gotten out of a relationship would feel shitty at seeing their friends and their boyfriends together, but I couldn’t care less if I tried. In fact, I’m relieved I’m single now. My ex was so boring that I can’t even remember the last time I was in the club, and it feels good to be back. I’m ready to get drunk as hell, snort some blow and then get a box of 20 nuggets on the way home.

‘Three shots of tequila and a glass of rosé, please,’ I ask the bartender, the boy instantly starting on my drinks as I get my phone out of my bag, checking through my notifications. I laugh to myself when I see that I’ve got seven texts and three missed calls from my ex. Someone must have spotted me at the bar we went to before this place and reported back to him already, so now he’s saying he’ll pick me up and take me back to his at the end of the night if I want him to. I’d rather crash at Steph and Ben’s and have to listen to them having sex in the next room.

‘Lime and salt with the tequila shots?’ the bartender asks, and I nod instantly. Tequila isn’t complete without lime and salt, and I think I’ll need whatever help I can get to stomach these shots. It’s been a while since I drank tequila that wasn’t in a cocktail, and I don’t wanna end up vomiting all over the boujee back room of this club.

‘y/n,’ a vaguely familiar voice says from behind me, and I turn to see Mason Mount standing there, looking heart-flutteringly handsome with his flattering all-black outfit, his perfectly trimmed beard, and his short hair long enough to tangle your fingers into. Not to mention his dark eyes that sparkle brighter even than the thin silver chain around his neck, visible where his top two buttons are undone.

‘Mason. Hi. Long time, no see,’ I reply with a smile, stepping forward to hug him. The last time I saw him, he was so slim, all skin and bone without an ounce of muscle on him, but he’s bulked up since, his arms feeling strong and sturdy when he wraps them around me. ‘It’s been too long,’ he agrees as we break apart, which is kind of him to say.

We’re more acquaintances than friends, and even that feels like a bit of a stretch. My best friends date two of his teammates, so we used to see each other fleetingly at parties or on match days, but we barely spoke when we did see each other, just polite greetings and superficial small talk. And even those encounters became a rarity after I got into a relationship with my ex-boyfriend, a player on a different team, and became a social recluse. Not seeing Mason for so long has made me forget how beautiful he is.

‘Should I give you my condolences or my congratulations?’ he asks with a mirthful glint in his eyes, and I can’t help but let out a little laugh. ‘Congratulations, definitely. I’m glad to finally be free,’ I say drily as the bartender puts a wineglass down in front of me. I pick it up, clinking it against Mason’s whiskey tumbler, both of us taking long sips of our drinks.

‘I didn’t realise you drank,’ I say, knowing that Ben’s in the minority as a footballer who loves a good drink from time to time. ‘I don’t, really. We’ve been here an hour and I’m still on my first,’ he says bashfully, making me laugh. ‘You chose the worst possible spirit. If you don’t drink often, you’re supposed to have a vodka and coke or something. A drink where you can’t even taste the alcohol. Whiskey’s awful,’ I say, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

‘You’re an expert on alcohol then?’ he asks amusedly, the bartender putting my three tequila shots down in front of me just as he finished speaking. ‘Don’t tell me they’re all for you,’ he says with mild shock on his face, and I nod proudly. ‘I’m newly single and everyone here knows it. I need all the help I can get to get through the night,’ I say drily, putting down my wineglass as an idea appears in my mind. It's a terrible idea – the entire room will be watching if I do this, and it’ll only enrage my ex when he finds out – but the boy standing next to me is far too enticing for me to decide not to do this.

‘Can I borrow your hand?’ I ask innocently, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. ‘My… hand?’ he echoes, and I nod amusedly. ‘To take my shots,’ I clarify, the boy still looking lost. ‘You’ve never done tequila shots before?’ I ask, Mason shaking his head, looking intrigued. ‘Can I?’ I ask, holding a hand out to him, and he nods, putting down his drink and resting his hand in mine.

‘So first, you’re supposed to coat your tongue in salt, so that it’s easier to drink the tequila. Traditionally, you put salt on this part of someone’s hand and lick it off,’ I say, running a manicured nail down the skin that connects his thumb to the rest of his hand. ‘And you’re supposed to lick the skin before you even put the salt on,’ I add, the boy raising an amused eyebrow. ‘Go ahead then,’ he prompts, victory unfurling in my chest as I pass him a lime to hold in his empty hand.

I lift his hand to my mouth, eyes locked with his as I drag my tongue along his skin, his pupils dilating as he watches me. I shake some salt out onto the damp part of his skin, licking that up too, my tongue stinging with the sharp flavour. I pick up the shot, knocking it back and trying my best not to wince, before taking his other hand into mine, lifting it so he can put the lime in my mouth, my eyes on his as I suck the juice out of it, the tips of his fingers touching my lips.

‘Bit much just for a shot, isn’t it?’ he asks amusedly, though his darkened eyes and slightly heavier breathing betray him, the boy clearly worked up. ‘People do body shots with tequila, which is even worse. Licking salt and sucking limes off different parts of people’s bodies,’ I tell him, the look on his face making it instantly obvious that his mind is imagining what it would be like to do body shots with me. I wonder which part of my body he’d choose.

‘Well, if you’re about to ask me if you can do body shots in the middle of the room, I’m gonna have to decline,’ he jokes, prompting a soft laugh from me. ‘I have more decorum than to do body shots in public,’ I smile, the boy grinning. ‘Only in private then?’ ‘Only in private,’ I confirm, both of us laughing.

‘Here, you do one of these. Not as a body shot. Just a normal one,’ I say, and he looks conflicted. ‘I’ll set it up for you,’ I smile, licking my own hand and pouring out the salt before picking up a lime, resting it in my exposed collarbone. He’s instantly convinced, a dark grin on his face as he lifts my hand to his mouth. He licks up the salt along with my own saliva on my hand, before picking up the shot and knocking it back impossibly fast, trying to get to the last step as quickly as possible. He slides a hand around to the back of my neck, pulling me closer and leaning down to take the lime, his lips brushing my skin so lightly that I wonder if I imagined it.

He sucks the lime dry, dropping the peel in the empty shot glass with a grin before licking some juice from his lip, my eyes zoning in on the action, my stomach tightening with desire. He really is a beautiful man, and I know I’ll be disappointed if I don’t go home with him tonight.

‘Gonna do your last one?’ he asks, not waiting for my answer before he sets it up, putting the lime between his teeth, a challenging glint in his eyes. Never one to back down, I lick up the salt, knock back the shot, and push myself up onto my tip toes, leaning in and taking the lime from his mouth, being careful not to let our lips touch. If he wants a kiss from me, he’s gonna have to be a big boy and ask for one.

The disappointment in his face almost makes me laugh as I swallow down the sour lime juice, putting the peel and the empty glass down on the bar. I’m suddenly aware of lots of eyes on us, whispered conversation filling the room, and I smile. ‘We got people talking.’ ‘Your ex won’t be happy.’ ‘Forgive me if I don’t particularly care,’ I say drily, sipping on my wine, and the boy grins. ‘Let’s give him something to be really angry about then,’ he suggests, and I raise an intrigued eyebrow.

‘Come home with me. I hate going to the club. Your friends have ditched you for their boyfriends. There’s no reason for us to be here,’ he murmurs, and I feel butterflies fill my stomach, so tempted by the thought. ‘I’ve only been here ten minutes, if that. It feels like a waste of an outfit, and my hair and makeup took ages,’ I say forlornly, and he laughs. ‘I’m enjoying your outfit, babe, and your hair and makeup. It’s not a waste,’ he promises, and I feel myself swaying even more at the pet name. ‘I wanted to get drunk tonight,’ I pout, and he rolls his eyes amusedly. ‘I have loads of wine at home. You can take your pick,’ he offers, and I’m convinced.

‘Okay. Let’s say bye to our friends and then go,’ I say before downing my wine, the boy offering me his arm so I can link mine through it. He leads me over to where his friends sit, Isla and Steph part of the group, and they all try to pretend they weren’t just watching and talking about us.

‘We’re gonna go and get something to eat,’ Mason says, not even trying to come up with a decent excuse, and badly-stifled laughter runs around the group. ‘Those limes didn’t fill you up?’ Ben asks, Steph elbowing him in his side amongst more laughter. ‘Okay. Just text us when you get home,’ Isla says, directing the comment to me, and I nod though I know her and Steph will be checking my location anyway.

‘Look after her, Mount. I’ll kill you if something happens to her,’ Steph warns, Mason nodding seriously. ‘He’ll take care of her, don’t worry,’ Cal says, clearly making a dirty joke, and Isla hits him with her bag as they all laugh again. ‘You’re all so annoying,’ I sigh, the boys laughing even harder at that, and I just wave goodbye to Isla and Steph as Mason leads me away from them and towards the exit.

We have to walk single-file in the main room because of how packed it is, so Mason untangles our arms, clasping my hand tightly in his instead, leading the way around the edge of the room and looking back every few seconds to check I’m okay. I can just imagine the tabloids in the morning, not to mention the blurry photos and videos of us on Twitter and TikTok. The football world and the celeb gossip scene is gonna have a field day with this.

I can’t help the shiver that racks through my body the second we step outside, Mason instantly shrugging off his jacket and draping it over my shoulders. I don’t even have a chance to protest because the valet approaches us, Mason grabbing his wallet from his pocket, handing the valet his ticket.

‘You drove?’ I ask when the valet goes to get his car, and he nods. ‘So I could make a quick escape if I wanted to. I’ve only had three sips of whiskey.’ ‘And a tequila shot,’ I add, the boy grinning. ‘And a tequila shot,’ he repeats, my phone making several text notification noises a moment later. I get my phone out of my bag, unable to hold back a laugh at seeing that it’s Steph and Isla blowing up the group chat, clearly not as cool, calm and collected about the whole thing as they pretended to be before.

‘The girls?’ he asks amusedly, and I nod with a little sigh. ‘They’re freaking out. Sending texts in all caps to the groupchat,’ I say, the boy laughing. ‘I’m surprised they didn’t say anything when we were still inside.’ ‘Girl code. You have to play it cool. Can’t let the guy get a big head from thinking that it’s a big deal that your friend’s going home with him,’ I tell him, his grin growing. ‘Is it a big deal?’ ‘Kind of, I guess. I’ve been in a relationship for a couple years, and I wasn’t one for… going home with guys even before that,’ I tell him, and he tilts his head thoughtfully.

‘What about after your relationship? You’ve been broken up for a while now, haven’t you?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Yeah. Two weeks since we announced it, but I dumped him about a month ago.’ ‘And you haven’t… had a rebound in that month?’ he asks, and I shake my head shyly, the boy looking satisfied at that. ‘I’m honoured.’ ‘You should be,’ I reply, Mason laughing.

The valet pulls up in front of us in Mason’s Lamborghini, jumping out and handing Mason the keys, the boy thanking him graciously which earns him brownie points. Seems basic, but when your ex was rude and arrogant, you appreciate a guy with manners. He opens the passenger side door for me, grinning at my thanks as I climb in, the boy shutting the door behind me before walking around to the driver’s side.

‘Connect your phone,’ he prompts, and I open my Settings app, clicking on the Bluetooth section and scrolling past all my saved devices to connect to his car. ‘Wow. How many cars have you connected to?’ he asks, and I let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. ‘A fair few. I’m a certified passenger princess,’ I claim, flipping my hair over my shoulder, and he just laughs, pulling away from the curb.

‘What music do you like?’ I ask, scrolling through my playlists. ‘I mainly listen to American rap, but I don’t know if that’s the vibe,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘What’s the vibe, Mount?’ I ask amusedly, the boy failing to hold back his smile. ‘Heartbreak music. You just got out of a two-year-long relationship,’ he reminds me, and I scoff. ‘Yeah, right. I was more heartbroken when I was still in the relationship than I am now,’ I laugh, Mason silent for a few seconds.

‘I know you’re probably sick of having this conversation but… what happened with him?’ he asks, and I let out a little sigh, clicking on my ‘gimme the aux’ playlist, full of songs that I play in other people’s cars to prove I’ve got good music taste. Playboi Carti comes on, Mason looking impressed, and I try not to laugh at how successful this playlist is at its purpose.

‘Our relationship got really boring towards the end. He stopped taking me on dates, buying me gifts, even complimenting me. We just spent all our time at home, watching boxsets and having sex. He became really complacent, and I realised that I deserve to be treated like a princess in a relationship, and not taken for granted or made to feel unloved the way I did. I communicated to him that I was unhappy in our relationship, and he turned around and said that he was too and that’s why he slept with the club’s social media girl,’ I say flatly, Mason’s mouth falling open in shock.

‘That is not what I was expecting you to say. Wow. I’m so sorry, y/n,’ he says, and I wave it off. ‘It’s fine, don’t worry. It didn’t really hurt me, because I just wasn’t in love with him anymore towards the end. I felt disrespected and angry, but not upset,’ I say, Mason nodding in understanding as he drives, one hand resting on the wheel whilst the other moves the gearstick every now and then. He’s a sexy driver, completely relaxed behind the wheel, his eyes flitting to the mirrors from time to time.

‘Was he at least good in bed?’ he asks, and I laugh, surprised at the question. ‘He was okay. Not the best, not the worst,’ I say fairly. ‘Same as how he is on the pitch then,’ Mason mutters, surprising another laugh out of me. ‘At least he’s consistent,’ I say, Mason’s response interrupted by my phone suddenly ringing through his car speakers, a familiar phone number appearing on the screen.

‘Spam call?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Sort of. It’s him. My ex,’ I say as I reject the call, Mason’s eyes widening in amusement. ‘No way. You didn’t even change his contact name to ‘dead to me’ or something. Just straight deleted his contact?’ he asks, and I nod with a laugh. ‘For him to be dead to me, I’d have to actually care about him, and I genuinely don’t,’ I say, my phone ringing with another call from him.

‘Please let me answer and speak to him,’ Mason says, and I shake my head instantly. ‘No way. He’ll literally go insane,’ I say, Mason grinning. ‘All the more reason.’ ‘No way. Don’t your teams play against each other soon? He’ll probably go out of his way to injure you if you piss him off,’ I say, Mason scoffing. ‘Yeah, right. I could take him.’ ‘Okay, skinny white boy. It’s not worth the risk,’ I say, Mason looking at me with big, persuasive eyes. ‘I won’t even speak. I just wanna hear what he says to you,’ he says as the ringing stops, disappointment on his face.

‘He’ll phone again. He calls three times and then gives up,’ I say, Mason looking hopeful. ‘And you’re gonna answer this time?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Yeah, okay. If it’ll make you that happy,’ I say, Mason grinning widely. He waits, almost excited for the phone to ring, unable to hold back a laugh when it rings again. ‘Go on, then,’ he prompts, and I press the green button, waiting for it to connect.

‘y/n. Where are you?’ his voice blares out from the speakers, both of us wincing. ‘Fucking hell. Are you shouting directly into your phone speaker? Why was that so loud?’ I complain, my ex letting out an irritated noise. ‘Where are you?’ ‘In a car.’ ‘Whose car?’ ‘Mason Mount’s car,’ I say, Mason grinning at the momentary stunned silence.

‘I didn’t think it was true.’ ‘Who told you?’ ‘Twitter. It’s already everywhere,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Well, yeah. It’s true.’ ‘Why are you in his car?’ ‘What do you mean? We’re driving somewhere. Why else would I be in his car?’ I say irritably, Mason stifling laughter. ‘Where are you driving?’ ‘It’s actually none of your business, at all,’ I remind him, a sigh sounding through the car speakers.

‘I know, but… it’s just killing me to not know what’s going on with you. All the rumours and shit, I just hate it. First, you’ve moved on with Central Cee, and then, you’re getting a marriage proposal from an Indian prince, and now, you’re dating another Prem footballer? It’s driving me insane,’ he says, and I roll my eyes again.

‘You should’ve thought about that before cheating on me and taking me for granted. We’re done now, so you don’t get to ask questions about my life and expect answers.’ ‘Fine, okay. Just at least tell me if you’ve got a new boyfriend now.’ ‘I don’t. I’m single.’ ‘So it’s just casual sex then?’ ‘She’s hanging up now,’ Mason says, a brief stunned silence following his words.

‘Who the fuck do you th-’ ‘Bye!’ I shout, hanging up on him, and Mason and I burst into laughter. ‘Right, I’d better block his number because he’s gonna spam call me now,’ I say, having to reject a call so I can block him. ‘He’s insane.’ ‘Tell me about it,’ I mutter, feeling relieved when I finally block his number.

‘What’s this about Central Cee and an Indian prince then?’ he asks, trying his best to seem relaxed but clearly curious, and I can’t help but laugh. ‘Cench and I aren’t dating. We were in the studio together for my next album, and we wanted WingStop, but delivery wasn’t available, so we drove to the nearest one and collected our order instead. People saw me in his car and the rumours started. But the Indian prince stuff is actually true. A prince spoke at some international relations meeting and mentioned wanting me as a wife in his speech,’ I say offhandedly, Mason’s eyes wide.

‘Wow. Have you responded?’ ‘No. How do you publicly reject a marriage proposal from a prince without putting yourself in serious danger?’ I say, Mason laughing. ‘What are you gonna do though? Just ignore it?’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m gonna do. Pretend it never happened and pray I don’t run into him until both of us are married so he can’t bring it up,’ I say drily, the boy shaking his head amusedly.

‘So you wanna get married one day?’ ‘At some point, yeah, I think so. Not for a long time, though. I wasted a couple years of my youth being in a shitty relationship, so I wanna enjoy myself for a while now. I don’t think I’ll even start dating again ‘til I’m close to my 30s. I’m more than happy to be single for a while now,’ I say, Mason nodding.

‘Fair enough. Dating again when you’re… 27, 28? Then marriage a few years later. Any kids?’ he asks, and I nod instantly. ‘Definitely. I want a few. At least four. Two boys, two girls,’ I say dreamily, Mason laughing. ‘You can’t choose, y/n.’ ‘I can if I adopt.’ ‘You want to adopt?’ he asks surprisedly, and I shrug. ‘Maybe. It’s always an option. I’m not sure if I have the pain threshold to go through pregnancy, and the idea of giving kids who would ordinarily struggle the chance for a better life and better opportunities seems really appealing to me. Why bring more children into the world when I can help the ones that are already here?’ I say, Mason smiling softly.

‘That’s really sweet. I think you’d make an amazing mother. Biological or adoptive,’ he says kindly, my heart warming. ‘Thanks, Mase. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing parent too,’ I say, the boy grinning. ‘Our kids will be lucky,’ he says, making me choke on my own gasp. ‘Our kids? Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, aren’t you, Mount?’ I ask amusedly, the boy just looking content with his own joke. ‘Never say never, y/n. You don’t know what relationship we might have in a few years’ time,’ he says in a mystical tone, and I just roll my eyes. ‘Yeah, we’ll see,’ I mutter, Mason just laughing.

We fall into a comfortable silence, Mason tapping his fingers on the wheel in time to the Lil Baby song that’s playing. I shift in my seat, my dress riding up to a point where it’s barely even covering my crotch, and I pull it down, able to feel Mason’s eyes on me as I do so. I can also feel him smirk to himself, obviously amused at how I’m trying to cover up while we’re literally on our way back to his house.

‘Cold?’ he asks, not even waiting for my answer before he turns up the heat. ‘Your jacket’s keeping me warm,’ I say, pulling it closer around me. It’s still holding the heat from his body when he was wearing it, and it holds his scent as well, something fresh and expensive.

‘You look good in it,’ he says, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah. It makes the outfit, I think,’ he grins, making me laugh. ‘I did think it was missing something, to be fair,’ I joke, his smile alerting me to the fact that he’s about to make a joke that he’s already very proud of. ‘It was missing the rest of its material,’ he says, and I gasp, hitting his shoulder lightly as he bites his lip to hold back laughter. To be fair, the dress is pretty tiny. The neckline barely covers my nipples and the hem barely covers my ass, not to mention the fact that it’s practically a second skin and it has the thinnest little straps that just about manage to hold it up.

‘Don’t shame me.’ ‘I’m not shaming you! It’s hypocritical to shame something you like, isn’t it?’ he asks with a grin. ‘You like it?’ ‘Yeah, I do. I love your skimpy little dress,’ he laughs, making me roll my eyes. ‘I had to wear something to give me the confidence to walk into a club for the first time in over two years.’ ‘You don’t have to explain yourself. Honestly, I’m just hoping you’re wearing outfits like this every time I see you.’ ‘I’ll wear it to your next match,’ I smile, and he falls into a thoughtful silent for a moment. ‘Actually… maybe not then. I’d end up shooting into our own goal if I spot you in the stands wearing a dress like this,’ he says drily, the car slowing down as he pulls into a familiar residential area.

‘You live around here?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘About thirty seconds down this road.’ ‘I’m literally five minutes away from here. I’m always at the Co-op at the top of the road,’ I say, the boy looking surprised. ‘No way. I’m always there as well. How have we never run into each other?’ ‘I’m glad we haven’t. I always look an absolute mess when I go, and I’m usually buying alcohol,’ I admit, Mason laughing. ‘Should I be concerned about your alcoholism?’ he asks, and I shake my head with a laugh. ‘It’s not that bad, I promise. I barely had a drop when I was with my ex.’ ‘Oh. In that case, drink as much as you want. I won’t even try to stop you,’ he grins, clearly trying to communicate that he’d be better for me thank my ex, and I just roll my eyes amusedly.

He pulls up to his house a few moments later, reversing onto the drive with his head turned, hand on the back of my seat. It takes every ounce of my self-control to not watch him, knowing I’ll probably throw myself at him the second I see him doing the sexy reversing thing. He turns off the engine, climbing out of the car and rushing around to help me out, grinning like he’s proud of himself for being so gentlemanly. He motions for me to lead the way up to the front door, following me up the drive and unlocking the door using the security system keypad set into the brick beside it.

I step into the front hall, slipping off my uncomfortable heels, my feet relieved at being flat on the cold floor. He flicks a switch beside the door as he shuts it behind us, flooding the room with light, and I find myself impressed at how nicely decorated it is. It’s also spotless enough that I can tell it was cleaned today, and I find myself unusually jealous at the thought of some girl cleaning his house. I try to comfort myself with the possibility that his cleaning staff are male, though the thought’s tinged with doubt.

‘Let me get you a drink before you start getting withdrawal symptoms,’ he jokes, stepping around me and leading me to the kitchen. It’s similar to my own, with a big island in the middle of the room, and I admire the furnishings, impressed at his taste in décor. ‘Your house is beautiful,’ I say quietly, not wanting to disrupt the complete silence filling the room. ‘Thanks. My mum helped me choose everything,’ he admits, making me laugh. ‘Well, your mum’s got good taste,’ I say, the boy smiling at hearing a compliment for his mum.

‘Which wine do you want?’ he asks, opening the wine fridge. ‘I’m happy with whatever,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You must have a favourite. Just come and choose,’ he says amusedly, busying himself with getting a wineglass and ice out for me as I look through the many unopened bottles in the fridge. I spot a bottle of Asti, instantly won over, and I get it out carefully, shutting the fridge and bringing the bottle to the island where he’s standing.

‘Why do you have so much wine if you don’t drink it?’ I ask, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he watches me pour out a half glass, dropping in two ice cubes with the little silver tongs he hands me. ‘So I’ve got something to give the girls I bring home after a night out,’ he grins, and I pretend to hit him with the tongs, the boy ducking with a laugh.

‘I’m joking, I’m joking! The wine fridge was already there when I bought the house, and Mum said I might as well just fill it up so it doesn’t look weird, and so I’ve got options for people to choose from when I host,’ he explains, and I nod in understanding, putting the wine bottle back in the fridge as he puts the ice away.

‘So do you do that on a regular basis? Bring girls home after a night out?’ I ask casually, Mason looking amused at my question. ‘Not regularly. A couple times. But I’ve never let them choose their favourite wine from my wine fridge,’ he adds, making me laugh. ‘I guess I’m special then.’ ‘So special, babe.’ ‘I’m honoured,’ I say drily, taking a sip from my glass as he laughs.

‘Can I use your toilet?’ I ask, the boy nodding. ‘It’s just down that way. Door on the left,’ he says, and I walk down the corridor he points at, opening one of the doors. ‘That’s your right, y/n, not your left,’ he laughs as I stop myself from stepping into a store cupboard. ‘Oh. I struggle remembering my left and right.’ ‘Clearly,’ he says amusedly, my eyes landing on something in his cupboard.

‘Wow, this is quite a board game collection,’ I say, Mason coming to stand behind me as I admire the three shelves lined with board game boxes. ‘I know it’s not why you came back to mine but… do you wanna play one?’ he says excitedly, like a big kid. ‘Excuse you, Mason Mount, but playing a board game is exactly the reason I came back to yours,’ I lie, pretending to be outraged by his insinuation, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, right. The only game you came here to play is an adult version of Twister,’ he grins, wiggling his eyebrows, and I can’t help but burst into laughter at the terrible joke, Mason unable to hold back his own.

‘What game shall we play then?’ I ask, and he looks surprised. ‘Wait, you really want to?’ ‘Don’t tell me you’re scared of losing to me, Mount,’ I taunt, his competitive streak taking over when he raises a patronising eyebrow. ‘Can’t be scared of something that has a less-than-1% chance of happening,’ he replies childishly, and I scoff. ‘Put your money where your mouth is then. Let’s play,’ I challenge, and he holds out a hand for me to shake. ‘You’re on.’

And five minutes later, here we are. Two grown adults on the carpeted floor of his living room on a Saturday night in our clubbing clothes, two Guess Who? boards set up between us and my wineglass on the coffee table beside us, music playing from his sound system in the background. Mason’s lying on his front, legs outstretched, while I’m sitting with my legs bent to the side, keeping my thighs clamped shut.

‘Okay, shall I start?’ ‘Wait,’ he says suddenly, that mischievous glint in his eyes again, ‘let’s… raise the stakes a bit.’ ‘Don’t tell me you wanna put money on Guess Who?, because that is a low I’m not ready to go to,’ I say with narrowed eyes, the boy laughing. ‘No, not money. What about… clothes?’ he suggests, and I tilt my head in confusion. ‘The loser buys the winner a new wardrobe?’ ‘No, y/n. You lose a round, you lose an item of clothing,’ he grins, and my eyes widen in surprise.

‘Don’t chicken out on me now, babe,’ he taunts, and I roll my eyes, my own competitive streak appearing. ‘I’m no chicken, but it’s unfair on me. You’re wearing way more than I am,’ I pout, and he’s silent for a moment, obviously working it out. ‘No, we’ve got the same. I’ve got socks, boxers, trousers and shirt. You’ve got dress, bra, pants and my jacket,’ he lists off, and I bite my lip, feeling awkward about having to tell him he’s overestimating what I’ve got on. ‘I’m not wearing a bra. Or pants,’ I say quietly, his mouth falling open for a moment.

‘Nothing under your dress?’ ‘Nope.’ ‘Right. I guess that’s not as simple then,’ he says, clearly trying not to laugh, and I don’t reply for a moment, debating whether or not I’m bold enough for this. And then I decide, fuck it. ‘It’s still simple in my eyes. I told you, Mount. I’m not a chicken,’ I murmur, his eyes darkening as he grins. ‘You’re sure?’ 100%.’ ‘Let’s do it, then,’ he says, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

We start the most competitive game of Guess Who? ever, both of us aggressively tapping down the tiles on our boards. I win the first round, downing half of my wine in celebration as he pulls his socks off. He throws one at me, my scream as I bat it away making him burst into laughter. He wins the next round, and I reluctantly take off his jacket, resting it on the sofa as he gives me a greasy grin, bursting into laughter again when I lean over to swat at him.

‘You’d better pray you don’t lose the next round,’ he says, sitting up with his shoulders in a competitive stance, and I smile confidently. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to,’ I promise, and I’m right. I win the next round, managing to guess correctly when I still have six people left to guess from, and his mouth falls open at how lucky I am.

‘What shall I take off then?’ ‘You’re letting me choose?’ I ask, the boy nodding, lips quirked up in amusement. ‘Shirt. Obviously,’ I say, the boy laughing as his hands lift to undo the buttons on his shirt. Our eyes are locked together as he shrugs his shirt off, but once he’s shirtless, I can’t resist the temptation to let my gaze slide over his bare torso, muscles and tan skin and tattoos galore. Desire settles low in my stomach as he watches me admire him, a darkly satisfied look on his face. His light-hearted and jokey side is slowly melting away, leaving a very intimidating side in its wake.

‘When you’re finished… I’m ready to beat you again,’ he says in a low tone laced with mirth, and I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t bet on it, babe. I’m winning this round as well,’ I say with conviction, and I’m right again. It comes down to the wire this time, pretty much anyone’s game, but I manage to scrape the win at the last second, the boy looking outraged that he didn’t.

He stands up as I sip victoriously on the last of my wine, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers before pushing them down his strong legs and kicking them aside. I feel my pulse quickening as I look up at him standing there in nothing but his Calvins, a noticeable tent in them already. He grins at me as he sits back down, and I avoid his amused gaze, resetting my Guess Who? board.

‘Last round,’ he reminds me, and I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, knowing what’s coming right after this round. He doesn’t seem to be trying very hard to win, but my nervousness distract me from concentrating, and by the time he makes his guess, I’ve still got half my board up. I can’t even muster up the disappointment at losing, too on edge about the fact that I’m about to strip off my dress to leave myself naked in Mason Mount’s living room.

‘Why do you look like you’re about to vomit?’ he asks amusedly, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his elbows. ‘Too much to drink,’ I say weakly, the boy sighing. ‘y/n, if you’ve changed your mind, you can say so. Don’t worry ab-’ ‘No, it’s not that. I’m just… I haven’t slept with anyone other than my ex in the last three years. And almost every time we slept together, it was boring and never felt special. It was just a really dull part of our routine. This is different. I feel nervous,’ I admit, Mason chuckling softly.

‘Come here,’ he says softly as he pushes the Guess Who? boards aside, speaking in a tone that no-one would ever be able to say no to, and I crawl across the carpet towards him. When I reach him, he slides an arm around my waist, effortlessly lifting me to straddle him, his bulge pressing directly onto my core.

‘There’s nothing to be nervous about, y/n. We’ll take this as slowly as you want to, and we don’t have to do it at all if you decide you don’t want to. There’s only one thing I want you to feel tonight, and that isn’t anxiety,’ he murmurs, one of his hands resting on my back as he lifts the other hand to brush a lock of hair back from my face, butterflies exploding in my stomach.

‘We can play another game if you want? Or I can get you another glass of wine before you start getting withdrawal shakes?’ he jokes lightly, and I can’t hold back my giggle, the boy smiling at the sound. ‘I’m okay,’ I say, lifting my hands to rest on his bare chest, his skin hot against my palms. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah. I don’t want games, or wine. All I want is you,’ I say shyly, his grin growing. ‘That works out well then.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah. I’m already yours, babe,’ he murmurs, sliding his hand up to the back of my neck and pulling me closer.

My eyes slide shut as he kisses me, his lips pushing mine apart and his tongue sliding into my mouth. The kiss is sweet wine and bitter tequila, my head going light at the taste of him on my mouth while his hands roam up and down my sides. I slide my hands up his chest to the back of his neck, using my grip on him to press my torso against his, accidently rocking forward against his bulge. The friction makes me whimper into his mouth, and he groans at the noise, gripping my waist to press me down again, stealing the breath from each other’s mouths as though the only air that works for either of us comes from each other’s lungs.

The kiss escalates quickly, my hands gripping onto his hair as his fingers press into my waist tightly enough to leave bruises, controlling my movements so I’m grinding down onto him, both of us moaning into each other’s mouths. His skin is so hot against mine, and I realise I want to touch every inch of it, my hands sliding down from his hair to explore the curves and ridges of his strong body.

‘Can I?’ he asks against my lips as his hands slip down to my thighs, tips of his fingers playing with the hem of my dress. I hum into the kiss as response, his hands instantly disappearing under my dress and sliding over my bare skin, pulling the material up with them. We break apart briefly so he can pull it over my head, throwing it over his shoulder as he reconnects our lips, my boobs smushed against his chest. His hands explore my completely naked body as I continue grinding down onto him, unclothed core dripping arousal all over his underwear.

‘Fuck, you’re so wet. I need to…’ he breathes into my mouth, lying back and bringing my body down on top of his before rolling us over, the soft carpet against my skin as he hovers over me. ‘Can I touch you?’ ‘Please,’ I whisper, his hand instantly moving down to push my legs apart, two fingers lightly swiping across my folds to collect up my arousal. He lifts his hand to his mouth, tasting me on his skin, and he lets out an appreciative noise.

‘You taste so good, babe,’ he praises, slipping the two fingers between my lips, and I suck on them gently, able to taste myself. He takes his hand from my mouth, replacing it with his own mouth and capturing my lips in a kiss, absorbing the moan I let out when he pushes those two fingers into me. He remains still for a few moments to let me adjust, distracting me from the stretch with a messy kiss, tongues and teeth clashing.

He breaks away from me when he starts moving his fingers, slowing sliding them in and out of me, my walls fluttering around them as I bite down on my lip to hold back any noises. His eyes are trained on my face, watching intently for my reactions as he presses his thumb down on my clit, my back arching up from the floor as my breath catches in my throat.

He curls his fingers inside me, a pathetic whimper escaping my lips, and he fails at trying to hold back his satisfaction at the sound. ‘I know, baby, I know,’ he murmurs, half-soothingly and half-patronisingly, his tone making me gush around his fingers. He’s trying his best to take it slow but he can’t resist increasing his pace, rocking his hand against me so his palm rubs my clit whilst his fingers move inside me, little moans falling from my lips every few seconds.

‘That’s it, babe, good girl. Let me hear how good it feels,’ he prompts with a small grin, replacing his palm with his thumb and rubbing hard and slow circles on my clit, forcing a desperate whimper out of me. I look up at him, stomach turning when I realise he’s still watching me, eyes studying my face as his fingers work their magic, and I can barely maintain his eye contact, hearing him chuckle when my back arches up again, a gentle moan escaping my lips.

‘Fuck, you sound so pretty,’ he mutters, fingers curling inside me again, and I can’t help but clamp my thighs together, overwhelmed at the sensation. ‘Want me to stop?’ he asks, hand stopping its movements, and I shake my head desperately, needing him to stop but needing him to carry on even more. He grins amusedly as he pulls one of my legs up so it bends at the knee between our bodies, allowing his fingers to go even deeper inside me. ‘Fuck, Mason,’ I breathe out when his fingers brush against that spot inside me, and he curses under his breath at hearing his name on my lips.

I clutch at the carpet as his fingers continue to thrust into me at a ever-quickening pace, an obscene squelching filling the room. ‘God, you’re so wet. Soaking my carpet, dirty girl,’ he chuckles, and I let out whine after whimper as he starts to bring me to the edge. ‘You’re doing all the work now, y/n. Feels good, baby?’ he asks softly, tone laced with cockiness, and I only realise after he says it that I’m grinding down onto his hand, each movement sending gentle waves of pleasure through me.

My body squirms beneath his, walls clenching around him, and he knows that I’m close, his pace quickening as he whispers honeyed filth into my ear. ‘Close, babe?’ he asks, and all I can do is nod, letting out a loud moan. ‘Fuck, bet my neighbours are gonna come knocking soon with a noise complaint. But how could anyone complain about your pretty noises, babe?’ he grins, the thought of being heard only prompting a fresh wave of arousal that soaks his skin.

‘Fuck, Mason, I’m gonna…’ I trail off, feeling myself get closer with every brush of his thumb at my clit and every curl of his fingers inside me. ‘Gonna cum, babe? You wanna cum on my fingers?’ he whispers against my ear, and I just let out a moan in response, teetering at the edge. I’m so close, and then he takes his fingers out of me, my orgasm disappearing within seconds, and I whine, eyes filling with tears of frustration and desperation.

‘Don’t complain, babe. I’m not done,’ he murmurs soothingly as he moves down my body, pressing kisses my skin. He briefly sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, making me sigh in pleasure, before continuing down my body, pushing my legs apart so he can settle between them.

He doesn’t waste any time, immediately burying his head between my inner thighs and sucking my clit into his mouth. I let out a moan of his name, fingers tangling into his hair as he alternates between flicking his tongue over my clit and slurping at my folds noisily like a man starved. It doesn’t take long for my orgasm to build up again, and I fall over the edge when he pushes his tongue inside me, his nose pressing against my clit.

My vision goes blurry as I moan out loudly, fingers gripping onto his soft locks for any form of stability as the pleasure crashes through my body in strong waves, my limbs tense and tight. As my orgasm subsides, my body goes slack beneath him, and he takes it upon himself to continue eating me out. I whine at the overstimulation, body squirming as he sucks and flicks my clit whilst thrusting one finger into me.

‘Mase, I can’t. It’s too much,’ I whimper between moans, tears steadily running down my face, and when he finally gives me reprieve, I let out a long sigh of relief, a dark grin on his face as he sits up on his knees. ‘You’re not done already, are you, babe? Haven’t even let me fuck you yet,’ he murmurs, slipping a hand into his Calvins and touching himself, my core flooding with arousal at the sight.

I sit up, pulling his underwear down just enough to free his cock, mouth-watering at the sight of it. I can’t resist from leaning down and sucking the head between my lips, his salty pre-cum coating my tongue. ‘As much as I’d love to feel your mouth right now, babe, I’d love to be inside you even more. Gonna let me fuck you?’ he asks as I sit up, and I nod shyly, his grin growing.

‘Let me grab a condom from ups-’ ‘No, don’t. I’m on birth control, and I’m clean,’ I say, his eyes darkening. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Are you clean?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Then, yeah, I’m sure. I wanna feel you raw,’ I breathe out, his pupils blown out completely with lust. ‘Fuck. Yeah. Okay, then. How d’you want it?’ he asks, and I think it over for a moment. Missionary’s always been my favourite – I’m a simple girl – but for a one-night stand with a friend of a friend, it feels a bit too intimate. The last thing I need is to stare into his pretty eyes while he fucks me. I’ll end up falling in love.

‘From behind,’ I murmur quietly, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes before he grins, making me question if I’m imagining it. ‘Get on your hands and knees for me, babe,’ he prompts, and I do as he says, anticipating his touch on me. And then he smacks my ass harshly, making me let out a pained yelp, before he rubs the area soothingly.

‘This is fucking perfect,’ he mutters, groping my ass cheeks like a horny teenage boy, and I push back into him, needing him to fuck me. ‘Okay, okay, I get the hint,’ he laughs, his hands disappearing from my ass a moment later. I let out a moan the second I feel him running the head of his cock down my folds, another escaping my lips when he begins pushing into me.

‘Good girl. That’s a good girl,’ he says, voice soft and soothing as he slowly sinks into me, the slightly painful stretch tearing a sob from my throat, and he rubs my back soothingly as he bottoms out. ‘Feels so big,’ I whimper, and he chuckles lightly, his ego obviously inflated. ‘You’re taking it so well, babe,’ he praises as he stays still inside me, allowing me to adjust. ‘Please, Mason, move,’ I plead, and his hands stop rubbing, gripping my waist instead. ‘Sure?’ he asks, though I can feel that he’s practically itching to fuck me. ‘Yes, need you,’ I breathe out, and he doesn’t hesitate any longer.

He pulls out before slamming back in, winding me. He’s ruthless, pounding into me so hard that his balls slap against my thighs, hands digging into my waist, both our skin damp with sweat. My head falls forward, and he leans over to grab my hair in one hand, tugging it to hold my head up, the pull only slightly painful. He fucks into me, hard, with no restraint, my head bent back at an uncomfortable angle, my moans projecting around the room. ‘Does my pretty baby like being fucked like this?’ he asks, the pet name making me gush, and my moans seem to be answer enough for him, a strained chuckle falling from his lips.

He props one foot up on the floor, allowing him to hammer into me at a bruising pace, cock filling me up completely, having me completely blissed out. ‘You take it so well, babe. So well. You take it like such a good little slut,’ he breathes out between grunts, and it’s heart-stopping, toe-curling, tear-inducing, the way he’s fucking me, so good I can’t think of anything but him, and how fucking amazing this feels.

My arms give way before I can realise how much they’re aching, and I fall face first into the carpet. ‘Shit, baby, I’m sorry. Are you tired?’ he asks gently, his cock stilling inside me, and I try to lift myself back up, desperate to feel him again. He slips an arm around my stomach and, at first, I think he’s just trying to help me back into position but, instead, he pulls me all the way up so my back is pressed to his front, my body weight resting partially on my knees but mainly on him.

He continues fucking into me in this new position, but at an agonisingly slow pace. He rocks into me, cock dragging against my walls leisurely, and I can feel it even more like this, can feel every inch filling me up and stretching me out. I let out a loud moan of his name and he slips two fingers into my mouth to shut me up.

‘You’re so loud, babe. Gonna have the neighbours knocking on the door, but I don’t wanna rush. Wanna take my time with you. Isn’t that what you want, baby? Want me to fuck you nice and slow?’ he murmurs against my ear, and I let out a garbled moan around his fingers, my wetness dripping down my own thighs.

He takes the sound as a yes, grinning against my neck as he fucks me deep, and I whimper and whine around his fingers as he lets out sinfully soft grunts and groans against my skin. He brings a hand to rest at the base of my neck, fingers still in my mouth. ‘Feels good?’ he asks, and I just about manage to nod as my eyes roll back, a little laugh falling from his lips.

His hand around my neck tightens, cutting off my airways slightly, and I let out an unintelligible string of curses around his fingers, my breathing quickly becoming laboured. I clench around him sporadically, quickly feeling my high approaching, and he can feel it too, keeping his torturous pace with a smirk pressed to the side of my throat.

He releases my neck after a few moments and I gasp for air, my inhale cut off when he puts a hand on my forehead and pulls my head back far enough for us to make eye contact, his face just as handsome upside down. His eyes are dark, skin flushed, and hair pasted down to his forehead with sweat.

‘Fuck, you’re so pretty, babe. This body is so perfect. So beautiful, and so good for me, with your pretty noises. My pretty baby,’ he murmurs, my body weakening and my heart skipping beats at all the praise. I’m so close, but I just need more – his pace is mind-blowing, and the dirty talk has butterflies going wild in my stomach, but it’s not enough to push me over the edge.

‘Faster, Mase,’ I mumble around his fingers, and he shakes his head amusedly. ‘You’re crying, babe. You can’t even handle this, and you want it faster?’ he chuckles before complying, pounding into me hard enough that the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, filling my ears along with the sounds escaping my lips. He slips his fingers out of my mouth, reaching down to rub at my clit in circles fast enough to match his thrusts, and I’m hurtling towards my orgasm.

‘Close, babe? Gonna cum for me? Come on, baby, it’s gonna feel so good,’ he breathes against my ear, one hand groping my boobs whilst the other keeps a steady pace at my clit, and the mixture of all the different sensations whilst he whispers filth in my ear makes me hit my high, my mouth falling open in a silent scream before letting out a moan of his name.

My walls clamp down around him so tightly that he can’t even move, so he keeps rubbing my clit to get me through my orgasm, murmuring praise and encouragement in my ear before pressing soft kisses to my skin. When I start coming down from my high and my walls loosen around him, he pushes me down so I’m resting on my elbows, his hands gripping onto my waist. He pounds into me, chasing his own orgasm, and it washes over him within a few seconds, the sexiest moan of my name falling from his lips as he fills me up with his cum.

For a long few seconds, the quiet music and our heavy breathing are the only noises in the room, and I take a while to try and compose myself with my head resting on the carpet. ‘You okay, babe?’ Mason asks breathlessly as he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty, and I turn over to look up at him, nodding with a small smile. He grins at me, pushing my legs apart to watch his cum drip out of me, eyes trained on my face as he collects it up with two fingers and pushes It back into me. I try to say his name reprimandingly, but it comes out as a moan, and he chuckles as I push his hand away.

‘Come on. Let’s… get you cleaned up,’ he says, easily lifting me up into his arms and carrying me out of the room bridal-style. He takes me up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms, putting me down gently on the bed. He puts on a lamp and disappears into what probably is an en suite bathroom, coming back with a damp towel a few seconds later.

‘Your house… really is lovely,’ I say through a yawn as he cleans me up with the towel, wiping up all the sweat on my skin, the saliva around my mouth and the cum between my legs. ‘After what just happened, you’re thinking about my décor?’ he laughs, and I roll my eyes. ‘I mean, to be fair, my head was in your carpet, and it was very soft, so…’ I say, trying to keep a straight face but unable to hold back my giggle when he bursts out laughing.

‘Do you want some clothes? A t-shirt or a hoodie? And you can borrow some of my boxers if you want underwear,’ he offers, and I laugh. ‘I’ll sleep like this. If you don’t mind,’ I add afterwards, though the look on his face clearly shows that he really doesn’t mind at all. ‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ he grins, getting up from the bed and going into the bathroom again. I stare at the ceiling, already getting flashbacks about what just happened, feeling myself getting wet again. I’m praying he doesn’t have training early tomorrow because I need him again in the morning.

I listen to what he’s doing, hearing the tap running and then shutting off a little while later before he comes back into the room. I listen to him leave, his footsteps going down the stairs, light switches being flicked and the music being turned off before his footsteps come back up and he steps into the room. I look over, the boy grinning at me. He’s wearing new underwear and looking fresher, like he’s splashed water on his face and combed his hair. He climbs into the bed beside me, sitting with his head resting against the headboard, back on the pillow. I move to lie in the circle of his arm, my head on his chest, and I can hear his heart beating through his skin.

‘So… gonna let me take you on a date?’ he asks suddenly, and I don’t react for a few seconds. ‘Um… no way.’ ‘No?’ he asks, sounding surprised, and I sigh. ‘Nope. I told you, I’m not looking for a relationship anytime soon,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘A date doesn’t equal a relationship, y/n,’ he says, and I lift my head to look up at him, arms resting across his chest.

‘Yeah, but one date with me is all it would take for you to fall in love,’ I say as though it’s obvious, and he nods amusedly. ‘And that’s a bad thing?’ ‘Yes. I don’t have the time, patience or energy to deal with someone being in love with right now,’ I say dramatically, though we both know I’m speaking the truth, and he just nods thoughtfully.

‘Okay. If you don’t want me to love you, then at least let me… love you,’ he grins, making me laugh. ‘You mean physically instead of emotionally, right?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘Yeah. Let’s turn this into a thing. No strings attached and all of that,’ he says, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘What makes you think I’d wanna do this again?’ I ask jokingly, and he clutches his chest like he’s hurt. ‘Your moans and your crying made me think you’d wanna do it again,’ he says, and I cover my face in embarrassment, the boy laughing.

‘Okay, yeah. We can turn this into a thing. You just have to promise me that you’re happy with this not being serious, that you won’t let any feelings get involved.’ ‘I promise.’ ‘And promise me you won’t sleep with anyone else while we’re doing this.’ ‘I promise.’ ‘And promise m-’ ‘y/n!’ he laughs, ‘we’re gonna be friends-with-benefits. Nothing more. I promise. Okay?’ he says, and I nod amusedly, putting my head back down on his chest. He strokes my hair gently as I trace lines over his abs and, before I know it, I’m drifting off, the steady beat of his heart lulling me into sleep.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #chelsea fc

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its-vannah · 1 year

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Last Forever | Eddie Roundtree x Reader

Request from anonymous: hii!! i love your eddie fics, you’re an amazing writer! i was wondering if i could put in a request where eddie and reader are both in the band and as they’re up on stage they look at each other while performing (kinda like billy and daisy i guess?). Karen and Camila notices this and they talk about it with reader and reader is in denial because her and eddie are good friends and she doesn’t want to jeopardize that (they became friends over their hatred of billy😭). but they end up together in the end though? thank you💕💕

Warnings: Angst, fluff, profanities, kissing

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Everytime you walk out on stage, you instantly get high off of the thrill of seeing the crowd bursting with energy. The audience cheers as the band walks out onstage, jumping up and down while waving their hands in the air. You'll never get tired of this. To think you had once believed you'd never make it out of Pittsburgh—now you were performing in front of a sold-out concert in the heart of New York.

You thought back to your first performance, back when the band was called "The Dunne Brothers." It seemed crazy to you, now, that you were so nervous to go out on stage. There were, at most, thirty people who couldn't care less about what you guys were playing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Holding your tambourine tightly in your hand, you peeked your head out from behind the curtains, tapping your foot against the wooden floor. You were nervous, anyone in the band could see that.

You felt the warmth of a hand on your back, an arm slinging over your shoulders. Turning your head, your eyes meet Eddie's.

A forced smile found itself on your face as he spoke, "Nervous?"

"Can you tell?" You asked, bowing your head.

"Only a little," He smiled, "Look, it's going to be okay. Just pretend they aren't out there. They don't give a damn what we're doing anyway. This is just practice for when we make it big."

Taking a deep breath, your eyes met his again, your foot going still, "Thank you."

"You're going to do great, Y/N."

"You are, too."

Sure enough, Eddie was right. Barely anyone in the crowd, except one woman who was drunk off her ass, cared about what you guys were playing. A few people swayed to the music, but few looked up on stage.

While singing backup, gently tapping the tamorine on your upper thigh, you looked over at him, a smile plastered on your face. He returned the sentiment, nodding his head as he played.

That was the first, of many, times Eddie Roundtree eased your fears.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Stepping up to your mic, you looked around at the band. Daisy and Billy were waving at the crowd, who's cheering only got louder as they do so. Meanwhile, Karen was laughing at something Graham was saying to her—and Warren was fiddling with his drumsticks, getting his energy from the audience.

Then there was Eddie. He was tapping on his guitar, a gentle smile on his face as he took it all in. New York City. Who would've known?

You looked over at him, as you had done before every single performance in the entirety of your career, and smiled.

He smiled back, nodding. This time, your eyes stayed locked on each other's for a second longer than they should have.

The two of you turned back to the roaring crowd, listening for the cue of when to start playing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Things had been different since moving out to LA, especially after the first tour. Billy was more involved with Camila and Julia, only going to mandatory practices and opting to spend more time with his girls. Warren, Karen, and Graham were out doing everything and everyone under the sun. You expected Eddie to go with them, as he had before the band had gone on tour. But he stayed back with you.

You weren't exactly sure why, but one conversation stuck in your head as a possibility to him stopping his wild streak.

The two of you had been messing around with a melody when he looked up at you, asking, "Why don't you go out with us anymore?"

You had hesitated, initially unsure of how to answer, "How honest do you want me to be?"

"As honest as you can be."

Taking a deep breath, you leaned towards him, "I saw what drugs and alcohol did to Billy, what it did to the people who loved him. I don't want to make that same mistake. I don't ever want to put myself or the people I love in that position. When the right person comes along, I'll know. But that person won't be out being reckless."

Eddie was silent for a while before he excused himself, leaving his guitar propped up on the couch. You weren't sure what he was doing, but you did hear him rummaging in one of the rooms upstairs and then the toilet flushing.

He came back downstairs a few minutes later, his hands in his pockets, asking a simple question, "Want to keep practicing?"

You nodded, happy that what you had to say didn't ruin your friendship. As he played, you silently hoped he wouldn't notice your fleeting glances towards him.

Although you'd never admit it to him, you were aware of your feelings for him. Unbeknownst to you, so were Camila and Karen.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Daisy knew how to work a crowd—it was first nature to her. Her movements were fluid, captivating everyone's attention as she sang.

"You found me in flames/it's the daylight of change," She and Billy began, "Baby, all that stuff is done."

Your part came in a split second later as you sand backup, "You're my morning sun/Aurora, you're the one/You're my mornint sun."

While the lead vocalists continued, you focused on matching the rhythm with your tamboruine, swaying as you shook it back and forth.

When you got to the chorus, you made it all of three seconds before looking at Eddie, "Oh, I kinda think I wanna make it last forever... Oh, I kinda think I wanna make it last forever..."

To your surprise, he was looking back at you, mouthing the words back to you.

"Oh, I kinda think I wanna make it."

In that moment, there was nobody else on stage except for the two of you, looking longingly into each other's eyes as you sang back and forth to each other.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?" Karen asked you, rather impatiently, as you set the table for dinner one night.

Camila looked up from her spot over the stove in the kitchen, as if she were wondering the same thing.

"What?" Your cheeks suddenly felt hot and you chose to look anywhere but in her direction.

Karen crossed her arms, "Cam, are you going to take this or am I?"

Camila came out of the kitchen, setting a dish towel on the counter, "Y/N, we've seen the way you and Eddie look at each other. It's before every performance, every practice session... Really, anywhere."

"Because we're friends."

"That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard," Karen said, rolling her eyes, "I don't know whether you guys are head over heels in love or if it's just intense eyefucking—but you've got to take care of it one way or another."

Camila held back a laugh, "What we're trying to say is, what's the point in not telling him? What do you have to lose?"

"Everything."

"What? You won't lose us or the band. You know that."

You tried to stop the tears from falling, but that proved to be difficult, "No, you don't understand."

Camila moved towards you, rubbing your back as Karen pulled out a chair for you to sit down on.

"Then what is it, honey?"

"He is everything."

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Your eyes are locked with one another, unable to put your attention anywhere else. For once, you don't give a damn what anyone thought. All you care about is what happens after the concert.

"Where did you turn... When you needed tenderness..." You sing softly, chest heaving.

You saw, Eddie's breath hitch in his throat, biting his lip.

"Where did you turn... When you needed tenderness."

Your mind drifts back to all the touches you had shared over the years—his hand on your shoulder, your palm pressed on his chest while the two of you danced around the living room on Christmas. It was all clicking.

You kept singing, "When you reached out for my touch...and I couldn't give you much...Of all the time we lost..."

Eddie tilts his head, thinking about where the two of you would be now if he had manned up and told you how he felt four years ago.

"While I was running from your light..."

You had spent years running from your feelings—that wasn't an option anymore.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your first performance in front of over a thousand people had you a nervous wreck all over again. You could handle a couple hundred—but enough to populate your hometown? It sent you spiraling.

Eddie found you pacing back and forth behind stage, your hands running over your face to try and calm your nerves.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," He whispered, gently taking you by the shoulders, "This isn't our first rodeo, right? We're the real deal now, Y/N/N. It's alright."

He pulled you into a hug, running his hand over your hair as you breathed into his chest, "Breathe with me, okay? Listen to my heart, alright? Listen to the beat."

His voice alone managed to calm you down—paired with his touch, you didn't know what to do with yourself.

The two of you pulled away from each other, and he looked you up and down, "Ready, sweetheart?"

You nodded, causing him to smile. He pressed a kiss to your temple, "You've got this, don't worry."

The both of you ignored the looks you got from the rest of the band while you walked on stage.

During the performance, it became too much. Your fists clenched up and your breath work wasn't quite right.

Taking notice of it, Eddie discretely moved towards you, passing it off as him being really passionate playing the bass. In reality, he just wanted to be there with you, reassuring you that you'd be okay.

He succeeded, too. Having him a foot away versus the usual six helped in ways you couldn't have imagined.

From then on, he always played a little closer to you.

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As soon as the band went on a short break halfway through the concert, Eddie made a beeline towards you behind stage.

He cupped your face, pulling you into a kiss the two of you had been waiting for the entirety of your careers.

Your hands found the collar of his shirt, pulling him as close to you as physically possible. His hands slid down to your waist, finally pulling back to catch his breath.

"I've been waiting to do that since the day I met you."

His forehead pressed against yours, relief washing over him, "God, I love you. Was that too soon? I'm sorry—"

You pulled him back in for a quick kiss, "Not soon enough."

#daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones and the six fanfic #daisy jones fanfic #dj&ts #daisy jones #djats #eddie loving #eddie #eddie roundtree x reader #edward roundtree #eddie roundtree #eddieroundtree #eddie roundtree x you #eddie roundtree x y/n

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thepixelelf · 5 months

Text

female ceo reader x tailor mingyu 1.1k words.

note: female reader (because the plot is based on how some men think women can't be taken seriously in higher up positions). this premise/idea is from The Duchess Deal by Tessa Dare. like pretty much all my fics, this is not a full story and more just a fun idea

[coincidence? I think yes] Letting out a guttural, defeated groan, you slump your head down on your keyboard. The keys press down, adding to the already incomprehensible email you were drafting to send to your personal assistant.

Seungkwan,

I need a husband.b,mfnhh7gy6untjjn 7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7nn7n7n

The first four words were stupid enough. Why should you need a husband? Just because your grandpa is a misogynistic prick?

7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7nn7n7n7n7n

And why should you need to get married of all things just so that he doesn't hand over "his" company -- that you practically resurrected from bankruptcy, by the way -- to your insipid cousin?

7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n77n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7

It's not like your cousin Yeongmin is married. He just happens to be the family's oldest male in your generation.

n7n7n7n7n7nn7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7

"Um--"

Seungkwan's voice makes you pop up, and you straighten your back to attempt to look put together even though it's arguable that Seungkwan is the only person who's ever seen you at your most bedraggled. He's probably the only person you'll ever let see you as anything beneath totally put together badass CEO who built themself up from almost nothing.

You smooth out your sleeves. "Yes?"

"There's a man at my desk," Seungkwan says, slightly confused. You're not sure why.

"Okay...?"

"Asking for you."

"Yes, Seungkwan." You nod, brows furrowing. "That's why people normally go to your desk."

His fingers toy with the end of his other arm's sleeve. "Yeah, but..."

"But?"

"He's wearing a wedding dress."

"Oh." You glance down at your computer screen, and the last words you typed-- well, on purpose.

I need a husband.

Weird.

"Do you, uh..." Seungkwan jerks his thumb towards the door he's only stepped halfway through. "...want me to send him away?"

"No, no." If a guy is coming to you in a wedding dress, he must want something. Badly. You've never heard of such a stunt, but you might as well hear him out. "Let him in."

Husband...man in a wedding dress... There's not that big of a difference, right?

Maybe you can offer him what he wants so badly. In exchange for something you want.

Seungkwan nods, still hesitant. "Alright, but you might want to put on some sunglasses."

You don't have time to ask him what the heck he means by that before he disappears out the door, and only seconds later, a blazing white fire barges in.

With all the floor-to-ceiling windows in your corner office, the afternoon sunlight is often a blessing. Right now, however, it bounces off approximately one million sequins, pearls, and crystals, and reflects so harshly into your poor eyeballs that you have to simultaneously raise your hand to cover your eyes and turn away.

"Oh my god." You may have just received snow blindness comparable to years of albedo exposure. "What the--"

"Miss CEO. Ma'am," Mr Say Yes to the Dress starts from behind the curtain of your fingers, voice loud, if a bit unsteady. "My name is Kim Mingyu, and I'm here to collect."

Lowering your hand just slightly, you allow yourself to see him from the shoulders up, which is lucky, since the dress seems to have a sleeveless sweetheart neckline.

Not bad. Broad, sculpted shoulders, a symmetrical face topped with fluffy black hair, something meek in his eyes -- despite having the gall to walk right into your office wearing the world's brightest hodgepodge of fabric and demand payment for... something.

"Collect?" you echo.

"Yes." He nods, and you see him shift to gesture towards the crinoline-filled skirt of the gown. "For the dress."

Instinctively, you look where he gestures, and you wince at the sparkles that stab your retinas. It's not that it's ugly. In fact, the handiwork must be incredible, if you know anything about anything. It's just so...much. Lace and pearls and sequins and rhinestones and floral embroidery.

"You must be mistaken. I never ordered--" You wave at the embodiment of Narnia's never ending winter. "--that."

"No, but Choi Yeori did."

Ah, now things are starting to make sense. You're closer to your cousin Yeori than you are her older brother Yeongmin, if only because you used to play murder mystery make-believe with her when you were nine and she was six. It's been a long time since those days, though. The only updates you get about Yeori's life now come from her public social media, and gossip columns. But there's one thing you know from both the past playtimes and the current Instagram stories.

Choi Yeori is a romantic. Always has been, always will be, you suspect.

From acting the femme fatale (as deadly as a six-year-old can be, which is surprisingly very) to the three engagement announcements she's since deleted from all her accounts, she likes to believe in stuff like love.

All the power to her, you say. Living in her beautiful world must be nice.

Well, except for when it's not so beautiful.

"Let me guess." You tilt your head at the boy-in-a-wonder. "The wedding's off."

Now that your hand is down, and your full attention is on him, Mingyu seems to shift uncomfortably under your gaze. His hands reach to pull the top of the dress higher over his pecs, since it's tailored to Yeori's exact size, not his.

He nods. "I spent countless hours on this dress--"

"I can see that." Otherwise he probably wouldn't be here.

"Everything is sewn by me, like she requested--"

"Of course." No machine could make something so ice queen from Sharkboy and Lavagirl-esque.

"And her payment was retroactively rescinded," he finished. "I can't get a hold of her, or any of her contacts, and I couldn't--"

"Find a single other person who would buy this amalgamation of sparkles, luxury, and fanfare?"

Frowning, Mingyu crosses his arms. "I couldn't think of who else to go to. I'm a one-man company. The cost of material on its own has almost put me in debt."

"Right, sorry." You roll your chair further under your desk and lean your elbows on the dark, lacquered surface. Your eyes glance once again over the dress. "But this could've been an email, you know."

He shrugs. "I got your attention, didn't I?"

You can't help but laugh. Yes, he's got you there.

Reaching into one of your drawers, you pull out your chequebook. "Right, well." You grab a pen and put it to paper. "What does my dear cousin owe you, Kim Mingyu?"

He rattles off the number, and you try not to sigh at it. Oh, Yeori... This time might really be too much.

You sign on the dotted line, and stand from your chair to round your desk. Walking up to him, you tear the single cheque from the book and hold it out.

"Here."

He's even more handsome up close, you note.

Just before his fingers can grip the expensive piece of paper, you jerk your hand back with a sharp bending of your elbow.

"Or," you say. "I could offer you even more than this."

Cautiously, Mingyu raises a brow. "Even more...?"

"You could take this money now--"

A moment happens where you curse in your head. You're acting cool and collected, but the idea bubbling in your mind is one of the most outlandish you've ever come up with. Are you really going to do this?

Mingyu eyes the cheque hungrily. That seals it. He needs money, and that's really the best thing you have to offer anyone, so why not someone with a pretty face?

You smile. "--or you could marry me."

#seventeen scenarios #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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streamingcolors-gvf · 1 year

Text

Skin Deep

Moodboard created by @jakekiszkasleftnutsack, story edited by @garbagevanfleet

Credit to @kiszkasun for providing the wonderful edits of the guys for inspo 🖤

The amazing Tattooartist!Jake moodboard created @pennylanefics that sparked this idea weeks ago 🖤

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka

Word count: 12.3k

A/N: @asparrowofthedawn planted this idea in my brain, and I couldn’t function until I wrote it out. She’s been such a gem giving input and support throughout the week. It wouldn’t have been brought into existence if it wasn’t for her ❤️

Also, this is a smut fic with the twins, so if that is not your thing- please keep on scrolling. It’s my first one, so I’m nervous about that. Feedback and thoughts are always welcome and my inbox is open!

**Disclaimer: As someone with multiple tattoos, I tried to make this as realistic as possible. That being said, it’s not going to 100% accurate of the tattoo experience. Please don’t come for me**

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, sexually explicit material a MINORS DNI!! (Unprotected penetrative sex, oral m!receiving, oral f!recieving, fingering, biting, slapping, dirty talk, spit kink, sitophilia - food/drink play, praise kink, soft!dom, teeny bit of restraints if you squint, let me know if I missed something!)

Masterpost

You pull open the door to the shop, greeted instantly by the chime of the tiny bell that alerts the staff of your presence. Looking around, it appears to be like any standard tattoo parlor, with its walls covered completely with framed pictures of flash art and leather-covered bench seats lining the waiting area. It’s dead quiet aside from the music playing over the speakers from the back room, and there’s no one to be found.

Confused, you pull your phone out to check the time.

11:48. Lunch time.

You chew at your lip, waiting a few seconds before deciding to turn back to the exit, only to be interrupted by the sound of a man’s voice.

“Hello!”

It’s friendly and upbeat, making you spin around on your heels to find the source. With a name like, ‘The Edge of Darkness Tattoo’, your mind has conjured up some interesting characters, so you’re more than shocked when a young man walks out from behind a curtain - heavily tattooed as you’d expect - to find his place behind the counter.

His laughter is muffled into the paper napkin that he wipes across his mouth. “Sorry about that, I was just eating some of my noodles and wasn’t sure if I heard the door open.”

“Hi,” you respond, letting your nervousness shake through your voice as you take small steps forward. You’ve had a few negative experiences with tattoo artists in the past, so you’re not ready to give up the apprehension just yet. “And that’s okay. I didn’t realize what time it was. I can come back later-“

He cuts you off with a wave, and displays a warm, reassuring smile, “Don’t be ridiculous. What brings you in?”

“I-uh. I have a t-tattoo design.” You stumble over your words, but you clear your throat and start over. “I’d like to make a tattoo appointment.”

“Fantastic! I can certainly set that up for you.” He wiggles the mouse to the computer in front of him and starts tapping away at the keys. “Artist?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Did you have an artist in mind?” When he realizes you’re still a few feet away, he ushers you forward, “Come on up here! I promise I won't bite.”

You shuffle forward with nervous laughter escaping from the corners of your mouth, “I don’t know any. This is actually my first time here. My best friend was the one to recommend this place to me.”

“Perfect! I love having new clients. So, here’s what we can do. I can look at the design you brought in and then we can discuss the artist that would be the best match for what you’re looking for. Sounds good?”

A smile forms on your lips as you start falling into the rhythm of his energy. “That’s great. It’s on my phone though. Is that okay?”

“Of course! Honestly, you should see the crazy stuff that people bring in sometimes. I’m pretty sure someone doodled their idea on a Mcdonald's napkin for me once.”

Now that you’ve left your once-looming anxiety at the door, and shuffled a bit closer, you’re able to take in the details of his appearance. The sides of his hair have been buzzed, leaving his tousled curls to rest at the top of his head and down the back of his neck. His ears are exposed, showcasing the thin golden hoops in each lobe, as well as the industrial bar through the right. The sharp angle of his jawline leads your eye to the trimmed goatee on his chin and mustache framing his full lips. The vibrant floral tattoos on his neck peek out above the collar of his cream-colored crew neck with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows, allowing you to look at the artwork that filled every inch of space from his bare forearms down to his knuckles. Admittedly, you’re a bit surprised to see that his face is mostly clear from piercings other than the tiny metal hoop on the left side of his nose.

God, he’s cute. Like really cute.

You try to shove away your attraction for him by unlocking your phone and tapping on your photos icon to pull up the pictures of your design in question. Even though your shaking hands are causing you to fumble with your phone, he waits patiently for you..

“Here it is,” you mumble under your breath when you find the right picture, and you turn it around to show him.

“Wow! That’s a big piece!”

“Uh, yeah. Is that okay?”

“Fuck yeah!” He leans in closer to get a better view, blessing you with the musky scent of his cologne that’s layered with sweet notes of vanilla. You don’t even realize how close you’ve been leaning in to chase it until you smell the mint from his gum. He coos softly, coating the words with a slight raspiness, “Ooh…that’s sexy. I fucking love floral pieces like this. Where are you wanting it?”

“I was thinking about the upper thigh and hip area,” you explain, pointing to the area on your body in a general motion of your hand.

“That’s going to look fucking sick.” He reaches forward, cupping his hand around yours to get a better look at the image on your screen. You’re in denial with how flustered he’s making you, distracting yourself from the warmth of his hand on your fingers by looking up at his face. Your eyes are captured by the fond smile tugging on his lips as he zooms in and out of the picture with his index finger and thumb. “Man, as much as I would love to do this for you — and as much as I hate to say this — I think Jake might do a better job.”

You’re entranced in his aura, only mere inches away from his face, sucked into the gravitational-like pull he has. Somehow, you manage to ask in a quiet voice, “Jake? Does he do pieces like this?”

He straightens to a standing position, breaking the closeness between you. “Yeah! Well, he will fight me on it, but he tends to do more black and gray. Actually…hold on. Lemme pull out the books.” He leans down behind the counter and lifts two leather-bound books that are similar appearance to photo albums. He opens one that has “Josh” written in gold script across the front, and starts flipping through it. “See, I’m more of a lettering and bold line work guy myself. A little more color than Jake does.” He hums to himself and shrugs. “Flowers like the ones you want aren’t out of my comfort zone though.”

You are in awe of his talent as you watch him flip through each page, “I see that. It’s really beautiful work, and I’m guessing you’re Josh?”

He flashes an award-winning smile, revealing the tiny gap between his two front teeth and the dimple on his left cheek. “The one and only.”

It earns him a bashful smile and a soft giggle from your lips, creating an undeniable moment of tension between you. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, causing your eyes to drop down to your hands while he grabs the second book to open and flip through. He’s pausing on each piece, giving you the time to study Jake’s portfolio of work. You wish you could say you were paying attention at first, but your eyes seem to act on their own, drifting up to Josh’s mouth instead. Deep in concentration and unaware of your shameless gawking, he plays with the ball of his tongue ring against his teeth and lips while flipping through each laminated page.

Your eyes never stay on the artwork for long before they flick back up to Josh, and as if the universe is playing a cruel joke, he catches you the last time. Embarrassed, you quickly avert your eyes to anything else in the room, but before you can, you catch a glimpse of the grin forming on his lips.

You’re positive a telltale blush shows on your face as a wave of heat rises from your chest, and your train of thought is completely derailed.

After sitting in a too-long moment of silence with the only sound filling the room is the pop! of his gum, he shuts the book, and clears his throat before asking, “So, what are you thinking?”

“Huh?”

An airy laugh flutters from his throat. “Which artist would you like to book with?

“Oh!” You consider your options, even if you're afraid to disappoint him by ultimately taking his initial advice. “I think I agree with you on picking Jake.”

“Solid choice. I promise I’m not offended.” He nods and shoots a playful wink. You stiffen and scramble to come up with an explanation, but he cuts you off before a word leaves your mouth, “Hey, I’m just playing with you. Relax, mama.”

The gentle touch to your arm and term of endearment makes your head spin.

“Okay. So, let’s look at his next availability. Which seems to be…hold on.” He clicks his tongue over his teeth as he scrolls on the mouse. His eyes light up and meet yours, “I think you lucked out! Looks like he has an opening next week, but it’s the last booking of the day. Is an evening appointment okay for you?

“Yeah, I think so. What time does the shop close?”

“We aim for eight depending on who’s working that day, but Jake likes to stay late and fit people in when we can.”

“Will you be here?” You blurt out the question before you can reel it back on your tongue. You’ve found a sense of comfort in his presence and taken the chance it might put your mind at ease to know the answer.

As if he can see the gears in your head turning, he adds, “I will. Don’t worry. Jake is one of the best artists here so trust me on this, but he’s also booked for the next six weeks, unfortunately. And besides, having the shop to yourself is always great, and you won’t have to stress about anyone else popping in.”

You’re beginning to understand why he’s working the front counter here; his beautiful smile and kind eyes can probably sell you anything. Hell, he could pitch an offer for the giant glass bowl filled with mints that are sitting on the counter and you’d take him up on it. You didn’t need much convincing because this tattoo has been something you’ve wanted for months and months. He just happened to whisk away any morsel of doubt that had been lingering over your head.

You hum in thought despite the fact that your mind is already made up. “That’s true…okay, let’s do it.”

He reaches out and gives your hand a tight squeeze. “Fuck yeah! Let’s get you set up.”

Josh spends the next ten minutes discussing the details of your design and quotes you on a price based on the time and space required for the piece. You fill out paperwork as he takes a deposit, reserving your appointment for the following week. He suggests emailing your ideas and images to Jake directly and hands you one of the business cards that has his information on it.

You flip the tiny rectangle-shaped cardstock in your fingers. “Could I have yours as well?”

“Sure!” He reaches over and plucks his own card from the stack and hands it to you. “If you have any questions, concerns or if something comes up and you need to reschedule, please don’t hesitate to call or text me. You can call the shop too, but good luck on getting someone to pick up.”

You giggle at the thought and start making your way toward the door. With your back pressed up against the glass, you wave with a farewell. “Thanks for everything, Josh. Guess I’ll see you next week, then.”

He gives a final smile and waves back as you push the door open. “See ya around.”

A week later you’re back in the shop thirty minutes before your scheduled appointment time. You frown when Josh isn’t standing behind the counter, but you wait for someone to greet you, checking out the selection of jewelry in the glass display case as well as the flash albums sitting on the counter. You hear the faint sound of music and footsteps coming from upstairs.

Maybe they didn’t hear me come in.

You walk towards the stairwell and call up to the second floor, “Hello?!”

A male voice echoes back, “I’ll be down in a second!”

After a few minutes, you hear the shuffling of feet coming down the creaky stairs. You see the worn black vans first before you’re greeted by the rest of the man wearing them. Once he comes into full view, he says in a friendly tone, “Hey there!”

He closes the distance between you and extends an open hand for a shake. He’s another young man like Josh, dressed in dark wash jeans that are cuffed at the ankles, and an almost entirely open chambray button-up, rolled up to the elbows to expose his tattooed arms and chest.

How many cute guys work here?

“Hey!” You offer a hand and ask, “So, you must be Jake?”

He accepts it, wrapping his other hand around yours, encapsulating it in his warmth, and flashes a smile that seems a little too familiar as he answers, “That’d be me. You’re my eight o’clock?”

You nod, making him release your hand and shift a little on his feet while he sweeps his fingers through his long chestnut brown hair. “So, uh, I’m just wrapping up some of the finishing touches on your design, but it should only be a couple more minutes.” He gestures to the stairs behind him. “You can follow me upstairs to wait on the couch… if that’s more comfortable for you?”

You suppose you are a little earlier, so the extra wait doesn’t bother you. “That sounds great!”

You follow him when he leads the way up the wooden staircase, stopping to admire all the artwork covering the narrow walls. To your surprise, the second floor opens up into a large open space. A subdued glow coming from desk lamps illuminate the room, casting everything in a brooding, gothic feel. The wood flooring brings out the richness of the emerald green painted walls, and in the center, there is a dark, studded leather sofa that matches the wall color. Framed artwork and oddities fill the space. Your eyes scan over a variety of things like flash, band posters, mounted bugs, taxidermy pieces, swords, a vast collection of records with a turntable, dried flowers, and everything in between. Looking around, there appears to be two main work areas set up in opposite corners, with the furniture breaking up the space in the middle.

Turning to you slightly, he gestures to the couch with an open hand. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. It shouldn't be longer than a few more minutes.”

You sit down, dropping your purse by your feet to settle into a more relaxed position, anticipating that you might be here for a while. You pick up one of the tattoo magazines off the coffee table and start flipping through it to pass the time. Glancing over the pages, you see Jake sitting at a desk working away on an iPad. It’s deathly quiet except the music that’s set at a low volume playing over a Bluetooth speaker.

You try not to stare, but you can’t help watching a talented artist at work. His long hair has fallen from his shoulders, causing the wavy, slightly-knotted tendrils to frame his face as he looks down at his work. You’re mesmerized by his graceful beauty, noticing little details like how his full, bottom lip pouts out from him being so hyper-focused. His hand sweeping across the screen with the pen being held between his fingers is the only thing pulling your attention. At one point, he becomes annoyed with his hair being in the way, and combs it back in a loose bun, securing it with the hair elastic that was wrapped around his middle digit. The way he's bent over, gives you a view down his chest from his shirt being so open, but you’re too far to make out any of the tattoos covering it.

When it seems like he’s about ready to finish drawing, you try to busy yourself with anything else but him, so he doesn't catch you as Josh had done a week prior. You end up scrolling aimlessly through your phone, flipping through several apps until you hear a chair being pushed out across the floor. At first, you are startled by the scraping sound of metal against wood, but the reaction shifts to excitement when you look up to see Jake walking over to you.

By the expression on his face, you can tell something is bothering him. “Sorry about that. The last guy took longer than I expected and — uh, never mind, you don’t want to hear about that.” He shakes his head, shooing away the thought. “Honestly, I really just wanted to make it perfect for you.”

“I appreciate it! And it’s okay, I didn’t mind waiting.”

He sits on the couch next to you and hands the tablet over with the design displayed on the screen. “What do you think?”

The amount of raw talent he has blows you away, exceeding every expectation you could have, like he’s plucked the vision straight from your brain. You gasp in awe, zooming in and out of every detail. “It’s so beautiful!”

A prideful smile forms on his face and he settles a few more inches, getting close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body as his leg presses up against yours. The proximity allows you to smell the teakwood notes of his cologne and the cinnamon candy that he’s rolling around in his mouth as he talks. “You sure? If there is anything you want to change, I would be more than happy to do that.”

You swear you’re able to feel his breath fan against your neck. “I think it's perfect.”

He leans in more, pointing to the different details of the design with the pen, “See, I thought that this part would be a nice touch, right?” He pats your knee before giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think it makes it unique to you.”

The way he emphasizes the last word with that low gravelly tone to his voice sends a chill through your spine. You squeak out while handing the tablet over, “I love it.”

“Okay, great. I’ll go ahead and get the stencil ready then. We can go from there to see how it fits in the spot you want.” He stands to his feet with the tablet in hand, and disappears into a hallway out of your sight, leaving you alone on the couch.

Another door on the opposite side of the room opens and closes, and a trail of footsteps follows it, growing louder and louder as they approach. You hadn’t seen Josh yet, but you weren't aware that anyone else was here in the building. You twist around on the couch and see a recognizable face presented in front of you.

He’s dressed differently tonight, wearing a white t-shirt that showcases more tattoos than before, jeans, and a pair of scuffed white vans. The things that haven’t changed are his welcoming eyes glimmering in the light when they meet yours. He chimes across the room in an upbeat voice, “Hey, you!”

“Hey, Josh.” You keep your voice light and casual, hiding the embarrassment from how he’s already making you feel.

He stops in his tracks and turns towards you with a pained expression on his face. “Okay, now I feel bad that I don’t remember your name.”

You wave him off through your giggling, “I don’t think I gave it to you.”

He rolls his eyes, albeit playfully. “That doesn’t change the fact I’m the dumbass that didn’t ask.”

You give him your name and hear it called back to you in his voice. To avoid feeling flustered like you did the last time you spoke to him, you dare to change the subject. “Ya know, you and Jake look like you could be brothers.”

He huffs a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back with a hand placed over his chest. “It’s funny you say that. We’re actually twins.”

Your mind connects all the dots, comparing their similarities and differences the second the words hit your ears. You allow a grimace to spread across your features when you realize how awkward it was for you to say they were related just now. “Oh shit, how many times a day do you hear that?”

He shrugs as walks over to the couch you’re sitting on and props his elbows on the back of the furniture. Leaning forward, he teases you with that cheeky smile, “Don’t worry, you have plenty of time to come up with original material.“

You scoff and just as you’re about to face away from him, he reaches out and taps your shoulder. “Can I tell you something?”

“Shoot.” Your heart starts racing with the possibilities running wild in your mind.

The smile on his face shifts to a nervous one and his eyes drift up to the ceiling for a few seconds before they fall back to yours. “I’ll be honest, I half-expected you to cancel tonight.”

“You thought I would wuss out?”

His eyes widened from the implication, afraid that he offended you. “No! No. Nothing like that.” He pauses, searching through his mind to find the right choice of words, “It’s…you just didn’t seem all the way committed to getting it when we talked last week. Like I was pressuring you into it or something.”

You didn’t realize you were being that obvious about it.

Your eyes drop to your hands as you pick at the cuticle on your thumb. “I guess I am a little nervous.”

“Yeah? That’s pretty normal for a big piece like this.” He shifts back on the heels of his feet and brings a hand up to his neck, rubbing the muscles, “I still get nervous sometimes.”

“I heard it was in a painful spot too?”

“Yeah, it can be with any sensitive spot and anywhere you don't have a lot of padding over bone is going to be a bitch. But don’t worry, you’re in good hands. Jake is a gentle lover.” He suddenly makes a displeased face, giving away that the last part accidentally slipped out when he forgot that you were still a client.

You control the smile that’s threatening to show on your face as you unwrap the mint that you’ve taken from the jar downstairs, popping it into your mouth, “And what about you?”

His mouth falls open, but no words come out. Instead, he decides to watch the way you roll the candy around on your tongue.

“Okay, let’s go ahead and see how these look-“ Jake’s voice echoes from the hall, but he cuts himself off once he sees you and Josh staring at each other. It only takes a second for a knowing grin to spread across his lips. “Am I interrupting something?”

Josh clears his throat and pushes himself off the edge of the couch, fighting back the smirk that’s creeping up with each passing second. “No, just chatting.”

You notice that Jake’s changed from the button-up into a comfortable black t-shirt, showing you the extensive work that covers both of his arms. He turns to face you, offering you a warm smile and a gesture of his hand over to the mirror. “Shall we?”

You leave your stuff where you are while he gathers his supplies and follows you to the full-length mirror set up along the wall.

Standing before it, you remember the area you’ve chosen for your tattoo, and ask, “Should I take off the thong too?”

You thought it was a reasonable question, but you second guess yourself when he coughs loudly. A heat of embarrassment flushes in your chest when you watch both of Jake’s brows raise as he swallows harshly, “Uh, well, no... I-I don’t think you need to do that. Just lifting the dress will be fine.”

He gathers a disposable razor and a plastic squirt bottle that’s filled with a light green solution in his gloved hands and crouches before you. You pull up your dress in your hands for him, bunching the fabric up in your fists right under the band of your bra to reveal the black lace thong you’re wearing.

“May I?” He asks softly, and you nod in approval. You feel anxious, jittery even, like every inch of your body is buzzing with nervous excitement to the point you think you’re shaking uncontrollably.

A shiver rolls through you the second the squeezes the bottle of green liquid onto your skin. “That’s cold.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, while he wipes away the soap solution that’s running down your legs with a paper towel. “Guess I should have warmed it up for you.”

You blush at the thought, watching him in the mirror while being completely transfixed by the simple action until his next question whips you back into the present.

“Is it okay if I move this strap?” You glance down to see his large, dark-chocolate brown eyes looking up at you.

“S-sure,” you mumble back when you process the fact he’s referring to your underwear.

He hooks his thumb under the lace band and lifts it over your hip bone, moving it away so it won’t get wet. The stream of water ventures further into your inner thigh and the valley of your hip. Satisfied, he begins to glide the razor in precise strokes across your leg, pressing into your skin every so often with his fingers to get a close shave. It feels wildly intimate to have him do this, even if you’re convincing yourself that it's standard for his occupation.

You peek over your shoulder to see Josh staring at you, hands folded lifelessly in his lap across the screen of his tablet. His eyes are fixated on your backside, making you realize that your ass has been on full display for him the entire time. You’re thankful that you chose to wear this set tonight, especially the panties because of the heart clasp where the straps meet in the back. His gaze climbs up the curves of your body until it finally meets your eyes. He’s far enough away, but you swear you see a blush pinkening his cheeks.

You cock your head to the side, silently calling him out. His dumbfounded expression shifts into a devilish grin, but Jake interrupts his thoughts before he can say a word.

“Hey man, could you give me a hand over here?” Jake calls out over his shoulder as he dries you off with another paper towel.

Josh stands from his chair and pads over, well, nearly skips over to you in a matter of seconds. “What’s up?”

“Can you grab that stencil for me?” Jake asks him as he peels the gloves from his hands, pointing to the table, Josh hands them to his brother and walks behind you. He flips through them, and says, “So, I blew this up to a few different sizes.”

Josh’s fingers ghost up the small of your back to collect the parts of your dress that have slipped from your hold. You catch the pitchy breath that wants to escape your lips, but you can’t suppress the arching of your back to press your ass into him.

“You like that?” He whispers inches away from your ear, sending a shudder down the length of your spine.

Jake holds up the largest stencil to your leg for you to look in the mirror, walking you through the process. “I think this one is the best because of how it fills out the space here.” He wraps his now bare, yet steady hand around your hip, pressing softly into the supple flesh to rotate you slightly. He turns his head to the mirror as the pads of his fingers graze you, trailing across the sensitive skin of your upper leg with a barely-there touch.

“Black?” Josh taunts in an amused hum, quiet enough for only you to hear, “I definitely took you for a pink or red kind of woman.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and for a moment, you worry that your knees might buckle under you as Jake goes on explaining as though Josh isn’t practically purring in your ear. “It just flows perfectly with your curves here.” He meets your gaze directly with the darkened pupils and his bottom lip tucked under his teeth, giving your hip a deliberate squeeze. “Whaddya think?”

“He’s right, y’know? Your body was made for this.”

Jake’s crooked, half-smile causes you to believe that he might have heard his brother. It’s a miracle that you haven’t melted into the cracks of the floor beneath your feet. The ability for you to concentrate on anything is thrown out the window with Josh’s warm breath cascading across the back of your neck with his twin kneeling before you, but somehow you’re able to release a shaky sigh, “I think it looks amazing.”

He nods and looks up over your shoulder. “Josh?”

Josh hums in thought as he peers over you and down at the reflection of the stencil held up to your upper thigh. “I agree with that placement. It’s gonna look fucking sick.”

He’s so close that you can feel the tip of his nose against the shell of your ear. “Might have you bend over the table so I can double-check his work from the back.”

Your face flushes with heat and you clench your thighs together in need just as Jake sets the stencil on the table. He claps his hands together in excitement with a pleased breath of laughter to himself. “Fuck yeah. That settles it then.”

You catch the cool scent from his mint when he asks, “Still need my help with your dress?”

You don’t need to respond. He already knows the answer.

Jake gloves his hands again, taking his time to clean and prepare your skin with an antiseptic soap. He proceeds to spray a solution to the area and begins the process of laying down the stencil. You’re able to keep the strap of your thong out of his way with Josh helping you hold up the back of your dress. With a careful touch, Jake presses the thin transfer paper to your skin in its chosen spot and starts smoothing it across your leg with gentle sweeps of his palms.

He slowly peels it away to reveal the dark purple outline of your design, giving you a little preview of your new tattoo. He releases a heavy sigh of relief once the paper is completely off, “We even lucked out on only having to do the stencil once.”

“Don’t miss me too much.”

Just as quickly as it all happened, it was over. You’re left standing alone, feeling flustered and in disbelief that it even happened in the first place. As you question the grip you have on your sanity, Josh saunters off back to his work desk while Jake escorts you over to the table he has prepared for you.

“Go ahead and lay down on the table here. Get as comfortable as you can, but I know that’s easier said than done on those fucking things.”

You crawl up on the Saran-wrapped vinyl furniture that resembles a large massage table. It’s padded enough, but you can tell that it’s going to cause your muscles to ache after a few hours.

Once you find a relaxed position that’s mostly laying on your left side, you lift the bottom of your dress so that it’s cleared away from your hips and legs.

Jake’s back is to you as he sets up his station, and asks over his shoulder, “What kind of music do you like?”

You blank out for a moment, forgetting everything you’ve ever listened to, which makes him chuckle under his breath. “Think about it while I get this set up. I’ll have Josh play whatever you want on the Bluetooth speaker.”

You let nervous laughter flutter from your chest. “I saw you had a record player and a collection?”

He spins around in his chair with his face lit up, beaming with enthusiasm from your observation. “We do! We use it a lot when we aren’t in the middle of a session. It just really sucks having to get up and flip it over.” He lifts his hands to show you the tight black latex covering them. “Gloves and whatnot.”

“Oh, I gotcha.”

The next ten minutes go by quickly as he explains the process to you, step-by-step. While he rambles on, you look around the spacious room as he goes onto the next steps of wrapping his work area, and machine, filling tiny ink capsules, and gathering all his supplies together.

Once he has everything laid out in front of him just the way he likes, he scoots in close and flips on the machine, firing it to life. “Ready?”

You sigh through a weak smile. “As I’ll ever be.”

He pats your leg in reassurance, “The first few lines are the worst, but it gets better…well, until the very end. Just let me know when you need a break, okay?”

You reply with a final nod.

He’s right. The needle puncturing your skin is a hot thrumming scratch as if a pissed-off bee has stung you and decided to drag its ass across your flesh. It’s painful, but not unbearable. Soon, your adrenaline and endorphins kick in, and it subsides into a dull sensation after a few minutes — just as Jake predicted. You’re thankful he doesn’t have too heavy of a hand, and that he works quickly starting from the bottom portion of your thigh.

Josh has put on the music you requested before he starts to clean up around the space, assuming it’s to close up the shop for the evening. He doesn’t hold your attention long when Jake engages in some small talk, asking you mostly about your family, friends, and work.

When your answers begin to trail off and shorten, he picks up the slack in conversation. He talks about his passions outside of tattooing, which you find out are music and cooking. You learn that he’s a confident guitar player as he tells you about the band he’s formed with his brothers, including Josh, as well as Sam, who you find out is the shop’s piercer, and that they happen to play local gigs on the weekends.

You listen to his soothing voice over the harsh buzzing roar of the tattoo machine, allowing your eyes to close as you find the calm space tucked in your mind. As the minutes turn into over an hour, it becomes harder for you to stay in that place. He checks in on you a few times, but you’re adamant to say that you’re fine and that you don’t need the break he suggests.

You’re fighting your body’s signals, struggling to stay still on the table while he works. When a low groan of discomfort escapes you, he suddenly lifts the needle away from your skin, noticing that you’re grimacing in pain with your face buried into the crook of your elbow. He taps your shin instead of bringing the machine back to your leg, and you pull your arm away now that it has become damp from your hot tears.

You prop yourself up on your elbow, and the confused look you give him makes him take a deep breath and push away from the table. He looks at you with an expression that’s filled with concern like he’s tossing around the thoughts in his head for what to say. “So, here’s what I’ll do-“ He pauses when you stiffen, but holds eye contact. “We’ll get through this outline tonight and then I think I’ll have you come back in a week or so to do the shading and color.”

Come back in a week.

A pout slips through and tugs at your bottom lip.

He laughs softly through a joke to reassure you, “No charge of course.”

“You just want an excuse to see me again,” you quip back, allowing a weak smile to break through your disappointment.

He gives a half-hearted shrug with a nod. “That might be true, but it’s clear that I’m hurting you right now.”

You try to save face with a joke of your own, “Isn’t that what they say? ‘No pain, no gain?’”

His shoulders fall and he gives you a look of defeat. “Why is it always the pretty girls that say stuff like that?” He scooches the chair on its wheels, close enough that he’s almost hovering over you. “Listen, It’s only going to get worse and I can't in good conscience — torture you for the next couple of hours just to get it all done tonight.”

You’re a little upset at yourself for giving him the impression that you can’t sit through an entire tattoo, releasing a deflated sigh from your lungs, “…Okay.”

Sensing the instant shift in your mood, he adds, “Hey, you’re doing great, okay? I do not doubt in my mind that you could power through this with no problem….but I’m also not gonna lie to you and say it’s not killing me to see you cry.” A playful smile makes an appearance when he mumbles softly, “…at least like this.”

Your jaw drops and hangs open, making him laugh and raise his hands defensively.

He straightens and huffs, “Oh I’m sorry, is Josh the only one allowed to flirt with you?”

“I heard that!”

Jake’s eyes stay locked on you as you both smile at each other, and while completely ignoring his brother, he asks, “You’re okay with that plan?”

“I guess so,” you say through a heavy sigh.

“You’re killing it.” He sets the machine down and stretches his muscles while still sitting in his chair, wincing in pain. “Although, my back is fucking killing me.”

“Because he’s a bitch that doesn’t stretch as much as he should!”

You giggle at the brotherly banter, craning your neck to look for Josh. Jake lowers himself and whispers, and you nearly moan at the feeling of his breath hitting your skin, “Don’t listen to him. He complains more than anybody here.”

“Somehow I believe it.”

“You have no idea.” The scent of cinnamon hits your nose with how close his face is to yours. He doesn’t linger long before rolling back to his position by your legs to rinse off the area. “So, let’s take a fifteen-minute break and knock out the rest of this outline.”

You were hopeful that the short break would help, but it hasn’t. Your skin is so raw and sensitive that each pass of Jake’s steady hand feels like a white-hot knife being dragged across your leg.

Your hands are balled into fists as you desperately try to find your calm, happy place deep in the folds of your mind. Despite your best efforts, whimpers of pain and discomfort start leaving your mouth more freely.

You don’t notice Josh walking up to the table until you barely hear his voice over the machine. “Nice. It’s looking great already.”

Their voices seem distorted and far away like you’re stuck in a type of lucid dream state.

“I’m trying to wrap this up for her. She’s fucking over it, poor thing.”

Josh hums in agreement. “How long?”

Jake clicks his tongue a few times, wiping over the area with a paper towel that feels like eighty-grit sandpaper. “Hmmm…I dunno, maybe thirty if she’s got it in her.”

Josh grabs a chair, settles in on its cushion, and pulls it right behind the head of the table. He gently taps your arm, getting your attention, and coos softly, “You doing okay, sweet girl?”

You nod, sniffling back the tears.

He rubs your arm that’s still draped across the middle of your face. “You’re doing great. You think you got another half an hour in you?”

“Yeah,” you answer, muffling the sound of your voice into your forearm.

“Atta girl.” You can picture the smile on his face as he says it, making your heart skip a beat.

Josh hooks his left arm under your head to hold your right arm while rubbing circles across your shoulder and down your back. At first, you flinch and lock up, making him say, “Try to relax for us, it hurts the tenser you are.”

You welcome the embrace, melting into his comforting touch. He adjusts with each deep breath you take, and you find yourself nuzzling your nose into his bicep to smell his cologne and the fresh linen scent of detergent off his t-shirt.

You feel his breath hit your temple, “You’re such a badass. It’s gonna all be worth it, I promise.”

The next thirty minutes feel like a blur thanks to Josh distracting you from the pain. Although, the way you’re melting into his body with Jake’s arms pressing against your thighs stirs a unique feeling between your legs.

“Okay,” Jake says finally, shutting off the machine. The blanket of quiet calmness that drapes over you feels like a blessing. “I think you’re done for the night.”

Josh mumbles into your hair, “You fucking did it.” He loosens his embrace and slips his arms out from you.

Jake takes extra care in rinsing off your leg with the same green solution as before and dries it with paper towels. As soon as he feels you’re cleaned up enough, he offers a bare hand. “Wanna take a look?”

You’re pulled to a sitting position with his help, and you take a minute to stretch out your stiff muscles. Your feet hit the ground like you’re a newborn baby deer, almost toppling over if it isn’t for Jake holding onto your hands. He walks you to the mirror and your jaw drops to the floor when you see your reflection.

The mixture of emotions you’re experiencing hits you like a freight train. You’re not sure whether you should cry, laugh hysterically, or stand in complete shock in front of the mirror for hours — perhaps a combination of all three.

“Holy shit! Oh my god! This is incredible!” You take a few steps closer to the mirror, turning your leg side to side to see how the new addition of ink looks on your body.

He’s standing behind you, peering over your shoulder when he asks softly, “You like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” you squeal in excitement, turning around to face him. You’re not sure what comes over you at this exact moment, it could be a mixture of desire, tension, or even fatigue with some leftover adrenaline, or maybe it's just pure attraction to him that motivates you, but you reach out and cup his face in your hands. Bringing him forward, you smash your lips into his in a more aggressive kiss than either of you anticipated. He must not have expected it from how he flinches back slightly, but only for a second before he reconnects the kiss, deepening it.

He brings his hands up to weave into the tresses of your hair and snake around to the nape of your neck. The hours of build-up from sweet praises and gentle caresses are making you feel bold, and you flick your tongue across his lip in a hungry need for more.

His full, pouted lips part without a second of hesitation, and he slips his tongue across yours. You’re both trying to be mindful of the massive, fresh tattoo on your right thigh, but your impulses take over for a few seconds longer than they should’ve. You tug him forward with a hand around his hip, and for a fleeting moment, you feel him harden beneath his jeans when he presses up against your left hip.

Jake is the one to break the kiss through a low groan, eliciting a whine of complaint from you. He doesn’t let go, however, but instead smiles against your lips, releasing a breathy laugh, “Whoa. Hold on, dove.” The pad of his thumb sweeps over your cheek as the spiced, smokiness of his breath fans across your lips, “Trust me when I say we wanna fuck you, but I need to wrap your leg up first. Can’t go destroying my best canvas, can we?”

You’re not sure if you hear him correctly, so you pull back, confused, and mumble, “W-we?”

He cocks an eyebrow and licks across his bottom lip. “Oh, I just thought Josh here was making it painfully obvious how bad he wants you.”

You glance over Jake’s shoulder to see Josh sitting in the same chair as before, now with a leg crossed over the other and his hands locked behind his head. The expression he’s wearing on his face is a smug one, and he only responds to your questioning look with a playful grin and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

Your knees are wobbling for an entirely different reason as you walk the short path back to the table. The air is heavy to breathe, thick from the borderline-ferality between the three of you. Jake places a kiss on your lips while you lift yourself on its edge, and scoot back enough for him to wrap your leg.

The next sound you hear is the chair behind pushed out from under Josh’s legs as he stands to his feet.

He leans in on his extended arm placed behind you, and lowers himself to whisper in your ear once again. “I’m impressed. I was beginning to think you were just gonna walk right out of here after all that teasing.”

You want to say something back, but all you can do is mewl from the relief of cool water from Jake’s bottle rolling down the sides of your leg.

Josh nips the soft spot below your ear, causing you to lift your hips and clench your thighs before Jake places a firm hand on your belly. He breathes in a deeper voice that makes the wetness pool between your legs. “Are you gonna be a good girl? You’ve done such a good job for us tonight.”

He follows it with a sultry growl vibrating against the shell of your ear. “I bet that pussy is so fucking nice and wet, isn’t it? How bad do you want two cocks tonight, sweet girl?

Jake snaps at his twin, “Josh, would you cut it out? She’s squirming all over the place and I’m trying to lay this fucking Saniderm down.”

Josh huffs an irritated laugh, but behaves to the extent that he’ll settle for placing wet kisses on the path between your shoulder and your ear.

It takes all of Jake’s attention for him to apply the giant cling-wrap-like bandage to your tattoo with delicate precision. And knowing what’s about to transpire, he takes extra caution and adds a second gauze sheet over it for padding, securing it with black, medical foam tape.

Josh cheers the second Jake finishes wrapping you up, “Finally! I think it’s about time that we fucking celebrate. Wanna smoke?”

As much as you love to share a cigarette with him, you decide against it and shake your head to turn down his offer.

Without skipping a beat, Jake wheels his chair over to his work desk. “I have some whiskey that I only break out for special occasions. Want a drink instead?”

Josh places an open-mouth kiss on your neck as you are about to respond, causing the sound to come out more like a pitiful moan than a real word, “Sure.”

While his brother digs around the cabinets of his desk for the bottle of liquor, Josh walks around the table to stand in front of you, holding his open hand out for you to take, “C’mere, sweet girl.”

The staggered walk over to the couch is interrupted by Josh kissing you like he’ll never get the chance again. You can’t help but note how it’s completely different from his brother, how it’s not gentle or paced, but rather a clashing of tongues and hungry nips to your lips. It’s an insatiable type of hunger you’re not familiar with, but find that you’re craving every second of it.

He balls up the fabric of your dress and yanks it over your head in a swift motion, tossing it somewhere behind his back. He grabs a generous handful of your ass, squeezing it into his palm before sliding both hands along the curves of your body. His dull nails drag up the length of your back until his slender fingers meet the tiny clasps of your bra. With a flick of his tongue across your teeth paired with a precise pinch of his fingers, the garment is free from your chest.

He doesn't break the kiss as he guides you to the couch, laying you across the shined, leather furniture on your back. Slotting himself between your legs and propping his weight above you, the frenzied kisses finally leave your lips to trail across your jaw, to the sweet spot of your ear, and down the side of your neck. They’re wet and sloppy, touched by the warmth of his breath through each heavy pant against your tacky skin. The soft hairs of his mustache tickle you, turning you into a writhing mess as his lips explore the intricate details of your body. Acting from your desires, you hitch your left leg around his waist as he rocks his hips into you, catching his concealed erection against your lace-covered pussy. In the passion of tangled limbs, he’s still careful of your freshly tattooed leg draping off the side of the couch.

His lips graze from the hollow point of your throat, feeling the erratic beating of your heart against his mouth, down between your breasts until he wraps them around one of your bare nipples. Your hands fly up to find his face, and you let your fingers feel across the plush, buzzed hair along the sides of his head before they dive into the loose curls.

A pull of his locks between your curled fist sends a raspy groan from his mouth onto your skin with his nose pressing into the supple flesh of your breast. He laps his tongue over the sensitive bud, rolling it into the intoxicating heat of his mouth.

As much as he wants to stay here worshiping your naked chest for hours with no end in sight, he’s too impatient to finally taste you. His tongue leaves your overstimulated nipples to trail down the center of your abdomen, across your navel, and down to your left hip. He sucks a splotchy pink love mark on the thin skin, soothing the sting of it with a delicate lick of his tongue.

You couldn’t care less from the way his breath fans across your body, clinging to the wet lace of your thong between your thighs. He’s only inches away from where you want him most, and he’s making sure to keep you on edge as long as he can.

Between chasing the feeling of his mouth, and him sinking to the floor on his knees, you are now sitting upright against the back cushions of the couch. You’re in a special kind of daze, pulled under the current of your circumstances. You don’t even notice Jake’s presence until you feel his weight shifting across the leather next to you.

You watch as Josh leans back on his heels, and tugs his white t-shirt from his body. Your blurry, out-of-focus eyes start at his beautiful smile, scanning to his floral tattoos covering his neck, and down over where they connect to his chest piece where two sparrows are placed among a bed of flowers, one on each side. He takes away the chance for you to look farther down when he brings his lips to your inner thigh once again.

“I hope you didn’t forget about me, dove,” Jake croons in such a delectable voice that makes you feel like you’re vibrating from the inside out. His fingertips trace across the softness of your jaw just as Josh eases your thong carefully down your legs.

“No! No… not at all — oh my god!” You cry out the second Josh licks a languid stripe over your once-hidden clit. Somehow, you have forgotten about the existence of the piercing until he presses the tiny metal ball to your bundle of nerves, making you nearly leap in the air.

“Fucking show off,” Jake curses under his breath, causing Josh to chuckle with his face buried between your legs.

Feeding off the spark of jealousy, he guides you into a heated kiss with a hand around your neck, cupping your chin in his fingers so you feel the cool metal of his rings. It’s different from the first he had given, and as you fight in this sinful dance for dominance, it’s clear to you that he’s winning. Maybe it was meant to distract you from his brother, or maybe it’s due to the fact he’s no longer holding back like he was before.

He sucks a mark of his own beneath your ear, one that will be sure to turn a lovely shade of purple by tomorrow morning — another thing to remember him by. The sensation of Jake’s teeth raking across your throat as Josh rolls deliciously slow circles over your clit, overrides your brain’s basic functions. Every thought and every one of your senses is consumed by them, even to the point where the throbbing pain of your tattoo ceases to exist in your mind.

“Feeling a little thirsty?” Jake hums into your cheek as he caresses a middle finger from your throat and down the center of your chest.

“Mmhmm.’” The whimper you give is pathetic at best, just as he likes it.

An expert flick of Josh’s tongue makes you roll your head back and clench your thighs around his head, but the soreness in your muscles makes you wince. “Careful now, dove.”

Through your fogged vision, you peer through half-closed lids to watch Jake take a swig from the bottle. He leans in, placing his thumb on your bottom lip, signaling you to open for him. You’re eager, allowing him to spill the shot of whiskey into your waiting mouth. It burns in the best way as you swallow it down, feeling the warmth in your belly, with his palm resting around your throat. The grasp tightens right as he licks across your mouth, wiping away any of the liquor that has spilled from your swollen lips. He hovers right at your ear, sending the growl straight through you, “You do exactly as you’re told, don’t you?”

The way Josh is sucking your clit, babying it, nurturing the building orgasm in the safety of his mouth like no one has done before causes the bindings of your composure to untether without anyone there to save you.

Pleased with the sounds rattling from your chest, Jake taunts the two of you, “We can’t leave Josh out, can we?”

The mention of his name causes his eyes to open and flick up to meet yours. The lust-blown pupils are almost black with unbridled desire, abandoning that playful, rich-toffee color you admired earlier in the evening. Now that you are taking in the sight of him more clearly, you see his right hand wrapping so tightly around your leg, that his fingertips are pressing hard enough into the thickness of your thigh to leave little indentations. You’re able to make out the tattooed letters on his knuckles now that he has your focus, reading the letters, “L O V E” on each finger.

Jake brings the lip of the glass bottle to your sternum and tilts it slightly to pour the amber liquid onto your smooth skin. It drips down your belly in cascading streams, causing you to suck in a sharp gasp between your teeth from the sensation. Before you can react, Josh rushes to leave his spot on your clit, lapping up all the spilled alcohol that tries to trickle down your sides. Jake huffs an amused laugh that drapes across the sticky skin on your neck, “Another one of his party tricks.”

You’ve now brought a hand up into Josh’s hair, using the loose, messy curls as reigns. The smooth, undoubtedly-expensive bourbon mixing with the taste of you, and the way you’re yanking on his hair has flipped an internal switch. The movements of his tongue are no longer gentle and delicate, because he’s devouring you as if his life depends on it, and the lewd noises he’s creating should’ve embarrassed you if you weren’t too bothered to care.

Your eyes are clamped shut so tightly that bright splotches of color begin to burst behind your lids as the impending orgasm twists in your belly with each passing second. Jake is already taking note of the signals your body is giving, telling him that you’re close; watching how your cheeks and chest flush a vibrant pink shade, the raggedness of your breathing as your lungs ache for air, to the way you’re clawing at the top of his thigh and fabric of his shirt. Enamored by the sight of you, he leans in and bites at the tender flesh of your neck, sucking a pattern of marks over your breasts while he plays with your hardened nipples between his fingers.

Jake breathes in a sticky voice like it's coated in golden honey, “You enjoying yourself, sweet dove? I bet you taste fucking phenomenal. I gotta make sure to have you all to myself next time.”

Another pair of fingers tease around your entrance, causing a pathetic plea to rip its way from your lungs, “Josh…please!”

The teeth of his perfect smile press against you as he considers making you beg again since your voice sounds so pretty saying his name, but he decides to give in by slipping his fingers inside. The warm, wet strokes of his tongue paired with a coaxing curl of his two longest digits along your sweetest spot almost cause you to unravel in that very moment. The hard bridge of his nose is nestled right against your clit when he starts to thrash his head back and forth, not caring that you’re nearly ripping his hair out from his scalp.

It’s merciless.

The passion at which he throws you into the wall of your first orgasm is unprecedented. You could have been coming for three seconds or three hours on his tongue, but it made no difference in the end. You might’ve even blacked out, but you’re not entirely sure about that either. He stays there, regardless, with a clamped hand around your leg, licking you up until the point where overstimulation starts to take over.

When you finally regain the ability to open your eyes, you look down to see him smiling at you with the bottom half of his face drenched in your arousal. The shine on his lips glistens in the light, and it almost makes you sad when he starts to wipe it away with his hand.

“Now it’s my turn to play,” Jake declares into the humid air as he starts to shift his position on the couch.

You shake your head, and before he can ask why, you place your hands firmly on his chest and push him back toward the arm of the couch. He tumbles on his back, taking you with him. He doesn’t complain nor resist in the slightest from you taking charge. Returning the favor, you lick and bite your way down the vulnerable skin of his throat, feeling his adam’s apple move beneath your lips. Kissing your way along his jawline to his ear, you roll the silver hoop decorating his lobe along your tongue. He grabs you by the waist, rocking you over his lap while a whiny moan from him echoes in the room.

Breaking away from his neck, you sit back on his thighs and start pulling the embossed leather strap through the large buckle, trying your best not to get distracted by the outline of his cock hidden beneath the dark-wash jeans.

You whip the belt through the loops with an aggressive yank of your wrist and toss it somewhere across the wooden floor, hearing the metal clank against its surface. Once his jeans are unbuttoned, you slip your hand beneath the denim as well as the cotton of his boxer briefs. The exposed band of stomach showing beneath the bottom of his shirt quivers from your gentle touch. Your fingertips run around the warmth of his body, passing over the trimmed hair beneath his waist until you feel the suede-soft skin of his cock. You glance up to see his eyes fixed on your hand as tiny puffs of air leave his open mouth. There isn’t much room for your hand to move in his pant leg as you reach farther down, but you’re shocked by his length when you feel only him. Through an arguably smug laugh, he lifts and helps push his pants down enough that you’re able to release him from the restriction of his clothing.

With the sheer weight and size of him in your hand, you can’t help your eyes from widening in unfiltered awe. You begin stroking him, watching the beads of precome leak out and catch the light as they drip down. You settle on the couch, lowering your body across his legs in a more comfortable position.

Right as you’re about to bring the head of Jake’s cock to your waiting lips, you catch the sight of Josh walking past you with the zipper of his jeans opened, stroking himself in lazy pumps of his hand. He doesn’t let your eyes linger more than a second or two before he’s out of your line of vision.

I guess they really are twins.

Jake’s fingers sweep the fallen hair from your face to get a better look at you. You look up through your lashes just as you flick your pointed tongue along the underside of his length, watching as his eyes roll back behind his heavy lids.

It might be your only chance of the night, so you jump on the opportunity to tease him. The combination of barely-there brushes of your lips and kitten-licks of a soft tongue is making him shift and squirm beneath you. It’s obvious he’s fighting the urge to take control as his fingers fidget on his lap in building anticipation for what’s to come.

“Come on, dove. You know I’ve been thinking about those pretty lips wrapped around me all night.” His voice is thick, laden with pure eroticism.

The confession disguised as a praise sends a wave of aching need for more. Without wasting another second, you guide him along your flattened tongue, swirling it around every inch of his length. Adjusting to how he fills your mouth, you bob your head slowly with your hand stroking what your lips can’t reach.

Your attention is drawn away from Jake when you feel the weight of Josh’s knee pressing into the leather as he climbs on the couch behind you, but you still don’t stop the movements of your head. His fingertips are the first thing to touch you, making your back arch from the feeling. They dance across your spine, tracing down the finer details which causes a pitched moan to vibrate around Jake as he nudges the back of your throat. A firm hand kneads your ass, and you swear you can hear his breathing start to quicken over the sound of Jake’s.

You’re startled when his open palm cracks against it from a forceful slap without warning. It stings as the blood rushes to the surface to leave a reddened print, making you clench your thighs together.

It’s when those fingers roll over your overstimulated clit, that you gasp, gagging on Jake’s cock. The sound and feeling cause a curse to slip from his parted mouth, followed it a loud groan, “Fuck! That dirty little mouth of yours.”

If the tears welling in your eyes that coated your lashes didn’t cloud your vision, you would be able to see Jake’s head whipping forward with his thick brows pinched together when he pushes your head down on him.

With his hand wrapped around the thick base of himself, Josh taps the head teasingly on the swell of your ass a few times. You wiggle your hips, chasing him as he inches closer and closer before his twin takes notice of his intentions.

Annoyed with him, Jake scoffs, “Why do you get to fuck her first?��

Josh huffs a dry laugh, quipping back, “Because I do everything first, you prick. I’m five minutes older.”

“That’s a stupid fucking rea-Ah! Oh, fuck!” A certain lick of your tongue as you ignore their banter causes him to grunt the curses mid-sentence, stopping the thought in its tracks. He pauses to collect himself, gripping your hand as he warns through shallow breaths, “Slow down, baby, or else you’re gonna make me cum soon.”

Josh takes the cue and glides himself into your pussy with a deliberate push of his hips. A ragged, borderline-primal growl rips from the back of his throat the second he bottoms out. The position of his hands slips from your hips down to your waist with a roll of his body with his cock buried deep inside.

He whines, succumbing to throes of pleasure already, “Oh my — fuck! Fuck, you feel so so good, baby.”

The feeling elicits a similar reaction from you, making you crane your neck so you can watch him slowly retreat from you. His eyes are fixed down at himself being coated with you, slick from your arousal. The unhurried push back into you causes his eyelids to flutter closed. The lean muscles of his abdomen, ones hidden beneath the tattooed skin, flex, and twitch with each stroke. The image of the two large roses on each of his hips, placed on the curvature of his slender stomach, snags your attention the longest before Jake’s fingers hook your chin.

The slow, subtle grinding of his hips transforms into powerful thrusts, knocking the air from your lungs and causing Jake to slip from your mouth. With your face resting on the softness of his tummy, the strokes of your hand are listless at best. Your cries mix with the distinct sounds each time Josh’s ink-decorated thighs connect with your ass. The broken phrases from him are incoherent, but by the way his movements are starting to stagger in rhythm, he’s closer than you expect.

Suddenly, with his hand gripped tightly around your waist, he pulls himself from you. You might have complained about the empty feeling you’re left with if you didn’t feel his knuckles brush across your skin with each frantic stroke of his loose fist. His trimmed nails scratch along the small of your back as he falters through a violent shudder, and spills his warm release over the curve of your ass with a breathy string of curses tumbling from his lips.

Breaking the silence between you, Josh mutters in a strained voice as he pats the other cheek, “Don’t move.”

He stands to his feet, collecting himself through steady breathing as he walks across the room completely naked without a care in the world. Jake takes the moment to tip your chin up and lean down to place his lips to yours, persuading you into a sensual kiss. You don’t dare move an inch as you feel Josh’s release dripping down the back of your leg. Thankfully, he returns within the minute, bringing a warm, damp towel to clean you with.

After his brother is done taking care of you, Jake bolts upright on his knees, sending you crashing into Josh’s chest, pinning his brother beneath you against the opposite arm of the couch.

You erupt into a fit of giggles as Josh curses from the new position you’re both in. You’re wearing an expression of shock, but Jake only reciprocates with an amused raise of his left brow. “You really thought I was gonna be patient all night?”

Just as Josh had done minutes beforehand, Jake reaches back between his shoulder blades, and rips his black t-shirt off, throwing it somewhere onto the floor into a crumpled pile.

It’s the first time you’re able to see his bare torso so close to your face. Even so, your eyes can’t seem to focus on one thing in particular with the lack of lighting, but what you’re able to see is the distinct outline of a skull with a sword through it in the center of his chest, surrounded by roses and plumes of smoke. It would take you hours of tracing over every line, every inch of the art-covered skin to fully appreciate it all.

He looks above you, locking eyes with his twin through a silent exchange as if they communicated in an unspoken language. Josh hums in approval, and rubs his hands down the length of your arms before wrapping his long fingers around your wrists. He lifts your hands, and folds them over each other to pin them both behind your head.

Jake’s eyes find yours for a second, and you swear you can see darkness swirl within the irises like the unforgiving waters of a rough, uncharted sea. His gaze floats down from your face, pausing on your rising and falling chest before it eventually settles between your legs. He wraps his arm around your left thigh, leaving your right untouched, and pulls you up onto the tops of his legs.

He slips the head of his cock over your clit, causing it to shine in your wetness. With a nudge of his fingers at his base, he guides himself in a teasingly slow pace down to your entrance. You’re impatient and desperate, lifting your hips to take him in. He bites his lip through his intense focus, finding that he doesn’t even have to push, and lets the release of your muscles do the work for him. He slides in effortlessly, stretching you inch-by-inch to the hilt. You both exhale through a strangled gasp, and he stills for a minute, feeling the tightness of your walls clench around him.

His eyes close just as his head rolls forward with a breathless laugh escaping his chest, “I fucking hate when he’s right, but oh my god your pussy is incredible.”

Josh sings into the tresses of your hair, “Like heaven.”

The skull on his hand stares back at you when he places his palm on your belly while he thrusts deep and slow in each calculated roll of his hips. The added pressure on your stomach as the head of his cock brushes against the special spot with the pad of his thumb rubbing over your clit drags you off the edge into your second orgasm.

Your upper arms ache as they strain through each flexing muscle you have to endure. It seems rather inconsequential because you don’t even feel like you're present with your physical body with time itself feeling irrelevant. Sounds become muffled like you’ve stuffed balls of cotton into them, even if at one point you’re sure you were screaming.

Jake’s not far away from that place himself, catching up quickly as he rides through the crashing waves of your climax. You wish to have each sway of his tangled hair or how a thin sheen of sweat has coated his body burned into your memory.

You can see the internal battle he’s fighting with his temptations from the look in his eyes that are hidden behind his furrowed brows. He hisses through clenched teeth when reluctantly pulls out from you, and because of the timing, it doesn’t even take a full stroke of his hand before the ropes of his warm come splatter across your stomach. You flinch at the feeling, and Josh releases his hold around your wrists so you can relax them by your sides.

The three of you take the following minutes to come down from the collective high as your breathing starts to calm down to a normal level. No one has said anything for a while, so you decide that you’ll be the one to break the tension first, “So… do you take credit cards?”

Josh barks out a hoarse laugh, “Shut the fuck up.”

Jake adds to the laughter, and runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He slowly maneuvers off the couch to a standing position beside you. “I think it’s safe to say this one might be on the house.”

Tucking himself back in his jeans while simultaneously looking for the washcloth, he turns to his brother and instructs, “Josh, go ahead and disinfect this couch again.”

Josh groans in annoyance while falling back against the arm of the couch, pushing his sweaty curls from his forehead.

You’re given a new towel to wipe the evidence from your stomach as Jake collects your dress and underwear off the floor and hands them to you. “Here, dove. The bathroom is down the hall and to your left if you want to clean up a bit.” He then looks to Josh, addressing him directly, “Let’s lock up so we can get her back home for round two.”

You feel like you’re weightless, floating across the room, and only making it halfway to the bathroom when you hear Josh blurt out, “Round two?!”

I think we have something here.

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strawberrysands · 1 year

Text

Scared out of my mind - Colby Brock

Pairing: Colby Brock x fem!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: angst, fluffy ending, talk about ghosts/paranormal activity, mentions of murder and suicide (in the story as of why the place is haunted), fainting, cursing, not proofread

You groan as the covers of your bed get violently ripped off of you. At the foot of your bed, Sam is standing with a shit-eating grin, blankets in one hand and a camera in the other. Colby on the other hand, pulled your curtains open. You immediately bury your head in the pillow in an attempt to escape the sudden light.

“Is this some sort of prank? Or just straight up torture?” You whine, earning a laugh from both of the boys.

“Sweetheart, it’s almost 2 P.M.” Colby deadpans, and it’s a good thing that your head is hidden in the pillows, because your face immediately heats up at the nickname.

“So?” Your voice sounds muffled but the annoyance is evident in it.

“As you guys can see, Y/N is not much of a morning person.” Sam says, probably to the camera, and you flip him off without looking.

“We’re going to the Drayman’s Manor. Wanna come?” Colby asks and his voice makes you turn on your back to face him. You gaze into his blue eyes just a second too long before answering.

“On one condition though…”

“Anything.”

“Really?”

“No.”

You sigh. “Gimme the blankets back please?” You plead, and make grabby hands at Sam. Colby almost aww’s out loud at the sight of you pouting just for the covers.

Sam laughs and throws the material over you, covering you from head to toe. “Alright. We leave in an hour!” He shouts before exiting the room.

You push the blanket away from your face, and see Colby still standing there.

You raise your eyebrows at him. “What are you still doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you actually got up, knowing you.” He replies and you laugh.

“Good point.” You get up and walk towards your dresser, and Colby has to physically restrain every atom in his body to look at anything but you. Your hair was messy, your eyes still sleepy and the sleep shorts you were wearing made Colby’s mind wander to places it probably shouldn’t.

You turn and face him again and giggle at his expression. “Cat got your tongue?” You tease, bending over to grab something and purposely pushing your ass out a little more.

Colby clears his throat awkwardly and starts walking to the door. “I’m gonna-… I’m gonna wait outside. Yeah, I’m gonna do that.” He says, whispering the last part to himself.

-- time skip cuz im lazy

A couple of hours later you were standing in front of the Drayman’s Manor, together with Sam, Colb and Kat. Sam began the video and introduced you and Kat, and after that you headed inside to meet with the tour guide. Before you got in though, you swear you saw something move on the first floor, behind a window. Blaming it on fatigue, you shake your head and continue walking.

Colby, however, had noticed your discomfort and gently took your hand in his own. “Are you okay?” He asked. You gave him a smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes and replied. “Yeah, I’m just tired. All good.”

Colby seems hesitant, but you had reached to house and the tour guide was coming your way so he joined Sam to film.

“Are you okay with us filming?” Colby asks her.

“Totally! We get a lot of people here who want to document their time here, so it’s no problem.” She replies kindly.

Polly, the guide, immediately takes us up to the first floor, supposedly the most haunted one.

“As you may know, James Drayman bought this manor in the 1850’s for him and his wife, Laura. It was supposed to be a loving family home, but, naturally, it wasn’t.” She says, and Kat shivers.

“How did he afford this place? I mean, it’s a really big house, and I understood that James and Laura weren’t exactly that rich.” Colby asks and Polly nods.

“Correct. James really wanted to do something special for his newlywed wife, so he thought to surprise her with this home. He couldn’t afford it at all, but he somehow managed to convince the seller that he had some sort of loan going on, and he was able to move into the place. However, after a while, it became clear that James didn’t have a loan or the money at all. So he started to force Laura to bear his children, whom he later sold on a market downtown as slaves.”

A/N: I completely made this place and story up and I have no idea if this is historically accurate so just bear with me here, it’s just a story

The whole group fell silent, processing what she had just said.

“His own children?” You ask to no one in particular. Just then, a cold breeze moves past you and Kat turns to you with wide eyes.

“Did you feel that?” She asks and you nod. “Yeah, almost like a door opened and now the air is flowing in here now.”

Sam and Colby look at each other. “I didn’t feel anything.” Sam says and Colby agrees with him.

“James is known to target women who come here, so…” Polly trails off.

“Oh my god!” Sam shouts and turns the camera to us.

“Why is it always us?” Kat says dramatically and we all laugh.

Polly then takes us to James’ room, old wooden floors and tapestry on the walls. The air immediately felt way thicker here.

“Is it me or is it hot in here?” You ask.

“Yeah no, I feel it too now.” Colby says.

“James tried to keep it a secret that it were his children that he was selling, but as you may expect, a lot of people who worked here knew what was really going on.” Polly says. “Laura had no power whatsoever. She didn’t want to get rid of her children in exchange for money, so one day, she hid a pregnancy from James. How she did that, we don’t know, but she succeeded and gave birth to a girl named Marie. Laura kept Marie hidden for years and when she was old enough, she ‘hired’ her to work at the manor so she could stay close to her.”

“Did Marie know James was her father?” Sam asks.

“Yes, she did. And this is when the story becomes tragic.” Polly says slightly sad, and leads us to Marie’s room.

“After a while, James grew suspicious of Marie. Probably because she had such a close relationship with Laura. He eventually found out that she was his daughter, so he decided to kill her. One night, he came into her room here with some sort of metal pipe. He hit Marie until she died. You can still see the marks on the wall here.” Polly says and she points to the evident holes in the wall.

We once again fall silent, shocked by the actual evidence that was still here.

“It’s almost like he raised the pipe above his head and just went berserk on her.” Sam says quietly, getting closer to the holes in order to get a better shot of it. Polly nods and remains silent for a while, letting us process what had happened here.

“Sadly, that is not where the story ends.” Polly says. “Laura walked in here, and when she saw what had happened, she ran from this room all the way to the other side of the building, towards the kitchen. Come on, I’ll take you there.” She walks out of the room, leading us through what seemed like a complete maze of hallways.

“Y/N.” You hear someone say, so you turn around and look at Colby with raised eyebrows.

Colby looks just as confused. “What?”

“What’s wrong?” You ask. “Why’d you say my name?”

Colby’s eyes grew wider. “I didn’t…”

Seeing as Colby was the last of everyone, you had assumed it was him.

“Oh.” You frown and you feel this wave of stress wash over you. Colby reassuringly puts an arm around you and kisses the top of your head. “It was probably nothing, right?” He says, seemingly also trying to convince himself. You, on the other hand, weren’t so convinced yet. You had heard the voice clear as day.

Trying to forget about it, you catch up with the rest of the group.

“James followed Laura all the way to the kitchen, and in a moment of rage, he took a knife and stabbed his own wife. Then, realizing what he had done, he sadly ended his own life with the same knife.”

“Damn.” Kat mumbles.

“We still think that it’s weird for James to turn on his wife like that. There’s enough evidence to suggest that he genuinely loved his wife a lot, so researchers started to think that he probably had some sort of mental illness.” Polly finishes the story.

“I understood that you wanted to stay the night here?” She asks.

Sam nods. “If that’s possible, yes.”

“Certainly. There are rooms possible for you to stay in at the end of this hallway.”

----

After getting dinner, we went to our room where we would be sleeping to set up the equipment. After setting up the EMF reader, it immediately spiked to orange and everyone freaked out.

“That’s never happened before!” Colby shouts.

“It hasn’t! It normally takes like minutes for it to even spike up a little bit, we’ve never had it spike up that much that quick!” Sam says excitedly. He grabs the camera and after explaining what had happened, he recalibrated the EMF reader just in case, but the same thing happened. Kat set up some flashlights in case there was actually something in the room with us.

“If someone’s here setting off this device, could you please step away for a second to let us know you’re here?” Sam asks, but the EMF reader was still spiked up to orange.

“Did you work or live here? If you did, could you please step away from the device or turn on one of these flashlights? Just tap them and-“ You start, but before you could finish your sentence, one of the flashlights turns on and the EMF reader turns off.

“Okay, thank you very much. Is it okay if we ask you a few questions?” You ask and almost immediately, the flashlight turns back off again. You shiver and sit a little closer to Colby. Sure, you’ve come on investigations before, but you never really get answers like this.

“Thank you. We’re going to use the red flashlight for no, and the blue one for yes. Does that work for you?” Colby tries. Blue flashlights.

“Did you live here?” Kat asks. Red flashlight.

“Did you work here, then?” Sam tries, but no response. We asks a couple of other questions, but we don’t get a response anymore so we decide to try to go to another room. Marie’s room, to be exact.

“Woah…” You suddenly feel nauseous and stumble a bit. Colby rushes to your side and lightly holds you up by your waist.

Sam and Kat just share a knowing look.

“Are you good?” Colby asks concerned.

“Yeah, I just got dizzy. That was weird.” You say and you assure Colby that you’re fine, but his hand linger on your body for just a second too long.

Sam sets up the music box by the door, and pulls out the Ovilus.

“Alright guys, this device here is called the Ovilus. This way, sprits can come up here and talk into it and it’ll give us clear words.” Sam explains.

“Is there something here with us?” Colby asks, and the music box goes off for a split second. We all share a look before moving on.

“Could you maybe give us a sign of who you are? A name, a job, anything.” Colby continues. “ You can come up to this device here and talk into it, that way we’ll be able to communicate.”

“Labor.” The Ovilus spits out after a while.

“So you worked here?” You try.

“Children. Money.”

“Maybe it’s James and he’s talking about his children? He sold them to work, for labor, because he needed money.” Kat suggests and the music box goes off again.

We freak out and Sam’s signature ‘oh my god’ could be heard.

“That’s one of the clearest responses we’ve ever gotten.” Colby says in awe.

“Could you maybe give us any other sign? We heard that you like to touch people, why don’t you prove that?” Sam says.

For a while, nothing happened. But then, for a split second, a clear image was in your mind. A family picture, a man, woman and a daughter. You shoot up and almost fly straight into Colby’s arms, terrified and eyes watery.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong angel?” He soothes you. His hand gently runs through your hair, the motion calming you a bit. Kat and Sam are looking at you, worried.

You clear your throat and turn in Colby’s arms, facing the others. “I- I’m probably crazy but suddenly I had like this picture clear in my mind, of a man, woman and I think their daughter.” You say, voice shaky.

“What the hell…” Sam mutters.

“Did you make our friend see that picture?” Kat asks.

“People. Show.” The Ovilus says.

“It showed you people?” Kat thinks out loud.

“That’s terrifying.” You say, a shiver running down your spine.

“Are you good with continuing the investigation?” Sam asks and you nod quickly. The last thing you wanted was for their video to be ruined just because you got scared.

After not getting any response in the kitchen, you decided to move onto James’s room. Again, just like on the tour, you immediately felt uncomfortable.

“For the final investigation of tonight, we’re going to do something called the Estes method.” Colby explains. “Sam here is going to put on these noise cancelling headphones, so he can get the clearest responses to the questions we’re asking.” Everyone sat on the floor in a circle like shape, and Sam put on the headphones.

“Is there anyone here with us?” Kat asks.

“Present.” Came Sam’s voice, almost immediately.

“Can you tell us who you are? A name, job,…” Colby says.

“I own this.. and then something.” Sam says.

“I own this house maybe? Is this James?” You whisper, but somehow still loud enough.

“Yes.”

“Holy fuck.” Colby says.

“Alright James, if this is you, could you give us one more clear sign?”

“Murder. Kitchen.” Sam says.

“That’s so fucking clear.” Kat says, astonished.

“James, it is true that you needed to have more children in order to get money?” You say.

“Work. House.”

“He needed them to work so he could pay off this house.” Colby wonders.

“Yeah.. something, I didn’t really get that.” Sam says.

Kat and Colby ask more questions, but you zone out. You’re not sure why, but your eyes are drawn to the hallway. There, in the doorway to the hall, there was something that you never thought you would see. A shadow figure with a hat on, at least six feet tall was standing there, just looking at you. You are so terrified that you freeze on the spot, unable to look away from the figure. You are unaware that by now, your friends are trying to get your attention.

Suddenly, without a warning, the figure moves closer to you quickly and before you know it, it had somehow passed through you. You let out a gasp before you felt your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and everything turned black.

“Y/N?” Colby says as he sees you looking at the door for a while. He turns around himself to look, but there’s nothing there. When he turns his attention back to you, he sees your eyes grow wider before they roll to the back of your head and you’re falling to the floor. Luckily you were already sitting down so you couldn’t hurt yourself that badly.

Colby’s heart is beating so loudly that he thinks the others can hear it too. He cradles your face in his hands and try to stop tears from falling.

“Y/n? Y/n/n, please open your eyes for me sweetheart. Can you hear me?” He tries. In the meantime, Kat had taken Sam out of the estes method.

“Do I need to call an ambulance?” Sam asks, slightly terrified.

“I don’t know, Sam! What’s happening to her?” Colby shouts. He’s terrified, he can’t do anything but hope that you wake up.

“Y/n, please. I love you, just open your eyes for me. I know you can do it.” He pleads. Both Kat and Sam were worried as hell, but they could clearly see how affected Colby was by this. They had never seen him this way.

After what seemed like an eternity, your eyes flutter open and you groan.

“Y/n? Oh, thank god. Can you hear me?” Colby asks.

“What happened?” You ask groggily.

“You passed out.” Kat says, clearly relieved that her best friend was okay.

Colby helps you sit up, and immediately envelops you in a hug. “You scared the shit out of me.” He breathes. Images of the shadow man you saw flood your mind again, and you break down in Colby’s arms, letting the tears flow freely.

“Shh, angel, you’re okay. I got you, everything’s okay.” Colby says gently, kissing your forehead.

“I want to get out of here.” You whisper, and Colby immediately nods and helps you up. “We’re going home sweetheart, don’t worry.”

Sam and Kat give you two some space, staying behind to gather up all the equipment.

Once outside, you finally feel like you can breathe again. The cold night sky feels good against your skin and you close your eyes for a second. Colby gently cups your cheeks and you open your eyes, finding his blue ones looking at you with nothing but worry.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He whispers. Still at a loss for words, you just stare at him blankly. Your eyes flicker to his lips and back up again. Colby seemingly gets the hint and leans forward slowly, giving you every time in the world to pull away, but you don’t. He gently presses his lips to yours, his hands moving from your face to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

Once he pulls away, you cant help but let out a giggle that makes Colby smile.

“There’s the laugh that I love.” He says and you smile up at him. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” He say quietly, pulling you in for a hug. “I was scared out of my mind.”

"So was I."

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