#but the idea of talking to anyone else tonight is
Note
I saw someone do headcanons on Lucifer and I know you'd write it perfectly. They basically said that if you were to ignore him, he'd practically BEG and WHINE like a bitch to have you talk to him. Even if it's telling him he's pathetic. As long as he hears your voice.
Ofc don't feel pressured to do this if you're busy or anything else, Ily🫶🏻🫶🏻 keep up the great work! :]
OKAY MORE SMUT (seriously, mdni 18+)
Sorry this one took forever but I'm prettyyy sure it's worth it. Let's just say this is Lucifer discovering some new things about himself :D
And ILY THANKS FOR THE REQUEST BBG
Ignorance is Bliss | Lucifer x Reader
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Becoming comfortable with the King of Hell as his partner was easy. He made sure to cater to all your needs and give you everything you asked for. Overall, Lucifer was a sweetheart and a gentleman. And this was especially the case in bed. Considering his immense powers, he was giddy to fulfill any of your fantasies you'd have, no matter how bizarre. After being with him for long enough, fantasies dissolved into curiosities. Some nights became spicing things up in the bedroom in ways that you'd never consider, just to see how much you could handle. Now? you wanted to see how much he could handle.
Neither of you were comfortable with bringing intimacy to the public, not without proper care, at least. But what if you could work him up in a way only you knew about? Tease him throughout the day? How desperate could you make him without touching him? You couldn't recall where you picked up this idea, maybe somewhere online at some point. Knowing how deeply devoted he was to you, he was sure to hold a great reaction to this.
You were together when the hotel was renovated, so it was an easy transition for you. Everyone already aware of your relationship and loving you in turn made your afterlife seem like less of a punishment.
His top priority was your comfort when you both moved. He made sure to be close to you in group settings, keeping a hand on you at almost all times. Whether that be a hand on your thigh or the small of your back, or simply having his fingers intertwined in yours, it felt like a relief for both of you.
But with this little act you were pulling, you would lean away from his touch, and make excuses to disappear for the afternoon. Or in the halls, where he'd usually greet you with a quick kiss or I love you, you'd pull out your phone as you approached him, or simply smiled with your eyes barely looking his direction. He would swear, if anyone asked, that this wasn't bugging him one bit. Not. At. All. You were all his at the end of the day, you could treat him however you want and he'd submit. He's fine. He's acting fine.
When it came to the hotel, there weren't many demons jumping at the chance of redemption in the beginning, so some nights turned into drinks, games, and music. You felt so incredibly lucky to be a part of this family, your eyes scanning across the room and taking in just the pure enjoyment of everyone around you. The center of it all tonight was Lucifer. He was going on about some fantastical story that involved a circus in some other ring of Hell, that then evolved into sharing baby photos of Charlie. His eyes always sparkled when he would talk about his daughter. You loved her too, of course, but your heart always fluttered when his admiration would show.
Still, you had that little experiment to play with tonight. As Lucifer went on about his stories, either entertaining demons with their content or his ridiculous retellings, everyone was drawn in. Not to mention, he was drunk and was acting like a fool, so he was even entertaining Alastor. With one foot on the barstool and the other propped on the counter, he acted out some ridiculous story that you paid no mind to. In fact, you made it a point to not react to anything, despite how intense he was becoming. You'd look down at your phone as he spoke. Or you'd start some random conversation with Husk, who really could care less, but he at least responded to you.
Keeping your eyes off of him was a challenge, but you could tell he was trying to get your attention when he'd brag about something. With no response, he would stutter mid-sentence, then change the topic after not getting the reaction he wanted out of you. With each ignorant glance, he took a swig of his drink.
He was seated after that, being scolded for scuffing the tables with his heels. That's when the ridiculous jokes began. You loved his jokes! You could listen to them all day, even laughing when he told you the same joke over and over. But not tonight, you had to remind yourself. You bit your tongue and sucked in your lips to hide any smile or laughter that might pass through. Still avoiding looking in his direction entirely, Lucifer was suddenly silenced. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, then back down to your screen, mindlessly scrolling through essentially nothing. Charlie was quick to distract him with a story, he was nodding along and smiling as best he could for her. The party dwindled, leaving you, Lucifer and Husk.
“I-uh.. think our royal highness has had enough. You should take him to bed, kid.” Husk finally draws your attention to Lucifer, who has laid his head on the countertop, incoherently mumbling. You sigh and nod, taking his drink from his hand and rising to your feet. Just barely touching his shoulder, he immediately straightens his posture.
“Good call, kitty!” He had a habit of calling Husk that when he wasn't entirely there, it made both of you cringe, “Bedtime, my love?” He takes a hold of your hand in both of his and you have to remind yourself this is just for fun. The endgame has to be worth it. You pull away, already walking through the portal he had created when he was talking. He looked at you as you stood in your shared room, still seated at the bar. Finally turning, you sigh and place your hands on your hips.
“C’mon, Lucifer.” You said absentmindedly, using a beckoning finger to draw him in. He eagerly jumped from his seat following you in, even with his chest aching. You didn't normally use his name. Usually it was darling, or my love, or good boy if he was acting accordingly. He takes a hold of your arm as the portal shuts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then running small pecks along the length of your arm, stopping at the start of your shoulder. You let out a small, almost nervous sounding chuckle, before reeling back.
“Didn't see you around the hotel today, darling. Did you do anything fun?” Lucifer sways as he speaks. Maybe small talk would help? He was trying his hardest to act casual and keep a clear conscience considering how much alcohol he’s had at this point. You shake your head, pulling your top off. You decide to sort through your clothes long enough to let Lucifer catch the sight of you bent at the hips, rummaging through a dresser drawer while topless. You could hear him gulp. He starts the same way, but struggles with the buttons on his vest.
“L-love, I might need-” his intoxication is clear in his voice at this point. After throwing on some sort of silky slip, you sigh and turn your attention to him. Looking down and fiddling with the buttons, he begins to lose his balance and finds himself leaning against a wall for stability. You approach him silently, and easily undo each of his buttons. You'd be lying if this alone wasn't making your stomach flutter. Even then, it was easy to keep your cool after seeing that he was clearly enjoying this too much. You notice his labored breathing as he braces his arms against the wall, allowing you to run your hands across his bare chest and slipping his shirt and vest to the ground with some maneuvering. You keep your hands at his hips for a moment, he lifted his pelvis away from the wall, maybe hoping for some kind of friction. You were lingering barely an inch away from his lips. Hearing the smallest whimper seemed to remind you of your mission, so you quickly pulled away.
“Good night, Lucifer~” just that sentence alone sent him spinning. Your lips so close to him and your voice so smooth, he was beginning to enjoy the sound of his name in your mouth.
More. He needs more.
As you crawled under the covers, you made it a point to hum and moan as you stretched and settled in. Pulling your phone back up to your face, you barely had time to look at anything before a clawed hand had slowly pushed your device down, revealing a very red-faced Lucifer.
“Is something wrong, love? Can I.. help you?” He was genuinely worried. You almost felt guilty at that moment. With a final sigh, you set your phone aside and cupped his hot to the touch cheek in your hand. He immediately let the weight of his head fall into your hands, humming contently at the long overdue contact. Still, you shake your head in response to him, keeping your lips sealed. His lip finally starts to quiver and he lets out a shaky breath.
“Please, I need your voice, love.. I miss it- I miss you.” He almost breaks you, so you decide to reward him for this display at least. You silently press a kiss against his eager lips. He's ready to pull you in and ravish you with that alone, he’d do anything to hear your voice. You pull away. He tries making connections in his foggy mind, tracing through the past few days to see if there was anything he might’ve done for you to be this cruel to him. He can't think of any wrong doings, but.. he'll do anything.
“P-please? darling?” He stammers out, continuing to crawl towards you and sitting prettily on your lap. The view itself drove you mad. You could keep your lips sealed, but you couldn't prevent the blush becoming apparent across your cheeks. He hums, satisfied with this reaction at least.
“I don't know what's going on with you, but.. I love you.” Oh, shit. “.. I love you~” He repeats.
You keep your eyes away from him. This one was a struggle.
“T-That’s fine, don't tell me about your day.. o-or laugh at my jokes, but, darling-” he turns your head to face him, a hand lightly bringing you forward by your chin, you notice his eyes glowing. “I love you.”
…
Fine.
“I love you, too.” You said it quietly, a hint of defeat in your tone. He immediately perks up, shifting his grasp on your chin to thumb at your jaw, nearly encompassing your throat with his hand. Closing the already very small gap between your lips, he eagerly explores your mouth with his forked tongue. You yelp into his lips in surprise, before pushing him away carefully, seeing how much of a mess you've made him from just that phrase.
“Lucifer, that wasn't very nice, was it? You have to ask.” You said sternly, sitting up to rest your back on the headboard and pulling him with you to keep him seated on your thighs.
“W-Wha.. Ask? To kiss you? Well that seems.. rather…” He questions with a nervous laughter, waiting for the punchline. You only nod your head in agreement.
“Well.. can I kiss you, then..?” He asks awkwardly. It was cute enough, But this wasn't your original vision.
“Mmmm- no.” Making a big show out of tapping your chin and letting your eyes wander around the room, you finally look back at him.
“What? Oh- um.. please?” He clarifies, a now nervous smile present on his face.
“Please, what?” You start running your hands across his abdomen, letting them interlock behind his back and pulling him just a bit closer.
“C-can I kiss you.. please..?” You thought he'd be agitated at this point, but his voice is dripping with desperation. He likes it. You see his hips shifting just above your thighs.
“Hm. Maybe.. I just don't think you want it enough, my love.” You say sweetly, pouting as if you felt any remorse. You ran your hands up his chest, then back down his sides, brushing your fingers just slightly below his belt. He huffs.
“Sweetheart! I-I do want it! please..? I want you, p-please..” He finally moans out, panting heavily only from your hands along his bare skin. You couldn't help but smile, and finally give him what he wants. With a gentle kiss onto his lips, it's clear that he's shaking with anticipation. He wasn't jumping you like before or taking the lead to suffice his own desires. It's as if he was waiting for permission. You weren't going to give in that easily, though.
You pulled away after that single kiss, looking at him like you had just asked a question and were waiting for a proper response. Finally catching his breath, he braces himself up by keeping his hands on your shoulders. He looks at you with the sweetest puppy eyes, shifting his weight on his knees to ease the growing discomfort pressed in his pants.
“More, my love.. I need more- I-I need you to-” He's still rambling. You hum, letting the hand that had been sitting on his hip palm at the bulge in his pants. You learn forward, pressing your lips against his skin and running your tongue up his neck. He shivers, the sudden sensations after being ignored for so long already forces a pathetic sound from him, music to your ears. Your kisses become sloppy, and your little nips will surely bruise and shine by the next morning.
“I-I want- ahh~” He’s keeping up with it? You thought for sure this little game of yours had ended. You won and you're giving him the attention he finally needs, yet he's still begging for you? “talk to me.. darling-” he chokes out, moving his hands that had been tightly gripping your shoulders to cup your cheeks. You were pulled back by his touch, a slightly shocked expression on your face. “Please.” His eyes were brimming with tears. A single line of golden blood and saliva dripped from his mouth from biting a little too hard on his lip, in an attempt to keep his noises at bay. You moved your hands away from his buldge, which had accumulated a wet spot onto his trousers, then went back to trailing your fingers across his skin again.
“Okay.” You respond. He perks up at your acceptance, the little sparkle in his eyes brings a smile to your face. “Since you asked so nicely.” you said sweetly, “So.. how badly did you miss me? Only a few days like this and you’re already a mess.. did you miss our little conversations? My voice?” You question softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek to wipe away some stressed tears that had fallen. He nods, holding onto your hand and burying his cheek into your palm.
“-My touch?” You massage his hip, letting your hand drift closer to the clasps on his pants. He nodded again, much more eagerly this time. “Hm. Good.” with one final kiss to his lips, you push him to the side, swapping your positions, to where you were hovering over him with your arms caging him in. He barely has time to process the quick switch, before feeling your hands tug his pants. He's moaning at the sensation alone, holding onto whatever he could find, gripping your wrist in one hand and balling up the sheets in his other.
You linger above him, your lips just above his. You could feel him panting heavily against you, even before touching him. You'd normally be passionately entangled at this point, But here, you got the chance to see his face. You were enjoying taking your time with this one.
“You're being such a good boy for me.. you're doing so well.” Your eyes flutter shut to capture him in another heavy kiss, and you reach unto his pants, planning to slowly relieve his stress. A sudden request leaves his mouth, stopping you for a moment.
“N-no..! Nono.. love, my name. Use my name- please..” He's shaking his head, finally mustering the courage to make his request. Another new development. God, he was perfect. You move to his jaw, pressing kisses up to his ear before breathing heavily against it.
“Lucifer-” you finally say. He lets out a pathetic whimper, clamping his grip down onto your wrist and bucking his hips into your sudden, yet tantalizingly slow, palming. “You're doing so good for me, Lucifer. My Lucifer. My sweet, Luci~” you mutter into his skin, beginning to pump your hand a bit faster. He is doing so good for you, afterall, he deserves it.
This wasn't the only game you wanted to play tonight. you wanted to fully take care of your poor neglected king after all you've put him through. After toying with him for long enough, edging him from release each time, you finally let him rest. You pull away, after bringing him to the brink and tearing him away each time, you were reveling in his pretty tears. All the senses you were enrapturing suddenly put to a halt, forced him to look at you desperately. You fully dismount him, leaving him nude under your gaze. Slightly embarrassed, he pulls his legs together. You rest your hands gently on the top of knees.
“I’ll need both tonight, Luci.” You say casually. This was something you've tried before, and it was definitely due for a second round. You felt he needed the extra love. He nodded, his face completely heating up. walking your fingers across his legs and helping him take his trousers completely off, you were treated with the pretty sight of his already soaked pussy, that sat quite nicely below his already overstimulated cock. The combination of his two sexes was enough to drive a whimper even from you. You quickly dip down, your own desperation meeting his. After bringing him to the brink beforehand but not letting him finish, it wasn't long before he was squirming and whimpering under your touch.
Even with all that, he was still begging you for more. Drunk off his juices already, you ran your tongue up from his folds, flicking at his clit, then sending a heated trail right up to the head of his cock. he arches his back into the full exposure, and you have to keep your hands on his thighs to keep his legs from shutting. The agonizing moans and gasps he was letting out only made you want to hear more. Hastily pushing three fingers into his entrance, his voice cracked out some resemblance of your name. He doesn't use his other sex often, so when you get the chance to eat your fill, he's almost always struggling to keep any composure. pumping his cock in one hand, you skillfully pump and curl your fingers into him with the other, all the while maneuvering your tongue and lips to suction onto his clit.
“Mm-! I-I can't- ahha- take… anymore- m-mmy love-” He's stammering. You pull away for a moment to let out a single phrase,
“What do you say, Lucifer?” Before continuing your brutal overstimulation. Only hearing more whimpers, you slowed your motions, waiting for a proper response. You only speed up your movements, after keeping your thumb lightly pressed against the top of his head.
“P-Please-” he shoots his head back into the pillows, his legs already shaking. “Please, can I-I-” You hum against him, sending a mild vibration that still made a big impact, before lifting your thumb just slightly.
“You may, Lucifer.” You run your tongue across his entirety again, enclosing his cock into your mouth and taking in his final thrusts.
Still whimpering and gasping, you continue to bob your head, moving slow circles across his clit, and causing his body to fully tremor beneath you.
You finally sit up, enjoying the view beneath you, while wiping away anything that you didn't manage to already swallow. Even with his eyes closed from the pure exhaustion, he's muttering your name under his breath. You still don't know how you managed to get this lucky, so you appreciate his drunken appearance for a moment longer before cleaning him up and eventually settling him under the covers. You hold him tight to your chest, your limbs intertwined. Even with immense angelic power, he returns your embrace weakly, with shaky arms.
“I love you, Lucifer.” You hum, pressing a kiss onto his forehead while brushing some hair from his face. He's still catching his breath, “Luci-” you say just as sweetly. He barely opens his eyes to meet your gaze, still silent. With a gentle grip on his chin, you pull him upwards to fully face you. “I love you~” You repeat.
“Mmn- love you.. dear…” He grumbles, still clearly dazed from the events of the night. Running your thumb along his lower lip, you muffle his tired moan with a kiss, before letting him rest his chin comfortably against your chest. You’d say your little experiment was a success. And you're sure Lucifer learned a lesson along the way; He has to ask for what he wants.
♡♡♡
Hope you like intersex lucifer bc I recently discovered I LOVE INTERSEX LUCIFER
More requests and the next part to Suffer is comin' up soon 🫶
!Taglist!
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#hazbin hotel#hazbin#lucifer morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fandom#lucifer hazbin#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel smut#lucifer x you smut#lucifer x you#lucifer x reader smut#lucifer x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader
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behind the screen 𐙚 sungchan smau #33
✧ camgirl reader x roommate sungchan
✧ synopsis. in which sungchan discovers his favorite camgirl also happens to be his roommate
✧ wc.
✧ warnings. half written, half smau. no warnings
behind the screen masterlist
“what exactly are you doing her-“ sungchan almost ran past chaewon’s desk as he entered the office building.
“i’ll explain everything to y/n later, i promise” the girl was left bewildered as sungchan completely brushed off her question, ignoring her and speed walking toward the elevator. she watched in curiosity as he spam pressed the button in order to call the lift and stood there impatiently as he waited for it to arrive.
chaewon simply turned back to her computer, informing her boss of the boy’s arrival before looking at her phone. for a few moments she debated on whether she should pick it up and message you, letting you know that sungchan was there but she opted out of it. if he had an explanation then she was sure it would be better for him to talk to you himself.
sungchan’s ride in the elevator had him stressed out. he stood staring at his reflection in the mirrored doors, he tried to make himself seem as calm as possible but it wasn’t possible. he prayed he wouldn’t have bump into anyone else before getting to the office but it seemed as if everyone was working overtime tonight.
“why am i not surprised you’re here” sungchan found wonbin only a few steps away from his destination “and to see the boss too? taking over so soon?”
“look wonbin i’ll explain everything to y/n later, i promise” within seconds he was past the boy and knocking on the door of the office, taking a deep breath before opening it and shutting it behind him.
“sungchan! take a seat” jaemin motioned for him to sit on the chair on the opposite side of his desk, he smiled at the boy as he sat.
“thank you for seeing me so soon”
“no need to thank me, you’re like family” he picked up the glass in front of him before speaking again “i’m happy to hear you’re back with my somi too”
“that’s actually what i wanted to talk to you about, sir, i’m not sure what your daughter has told you but we’re not together” jaemin narrowed his eyes at the boy, placing his glass down as he straightened his back “nor am i willing to partake in taking over the company”
“right, that was something i wanted to discuss with you. it is something i’ve thought of and discussed with my children and other affiliates before but i had never mentioned it to you, i’m sure head a surprise to here”
“a little”
“i never wanted such a matter to become so public without having discussed it with you first, i never would have released that type of information without having a definite answer to whether you wanted to or not and frankly, it seems whoever has done this is attempting to make a mockery of our company name and i will not be standing for it”
“i appreciate that a lot” sungchan sighed as he leaned back in his chair
“something else bothering you?”
“everything that’s happened, and the article, has caused a lot of stress between me and a girl i really like” sungchan felt as if he was having a war in his mind, the idea of telling your boss and somi’s father about what happened was plaguing him and he wasn’t sure what would happen if he did mention it. “i’m worried about the true impact that it had”
“i can assure you sungchan, i will find out who leaked this information and i will be dealing with them. i promise you whoever it will have a very strong defamation case against them” there was hesitance in sungchan’s mind, if somi was the one to make these claims then he couldn’t imagine that her father would act against her “i’ll contact business insider and discuss it all with mr lee tomorrow” sungchan smiled weakly at the older man, bowing his head in respect before standing up.
“i appreciate this a lot sir” sungchan stood up, slowly making his au to the door to exit before he paused. his hand rested gently on the handle before he turned around again.
“is something wrong?”
“sir your daughter is trying to blackmail me” sungchan watched the older man’s eyes widen as he spoke, he stood up before motioning for sungchan to take a seat again, sungchan stayed by the door “i can imagine that soon she’ll be revealing some things about y/n that may make you see her in a different light, but i just ask that you give her the benefit of the doubt with this. i can promise you from the bottom of my heart here that y/n is not the villain that somi is trying to paint her out to be” he took a deep breath before leaving the room, not waiting to hear what jaemin had to say in response.
sungchan had one more thing to do, see you. by the time he reached the reception desk downstairs chaewon had gone, the sky had darkened and the moon was shining through the windows. looking at the time he knew your stream would have ended by now and he could only pray you were still awake. he knew he could tell you in the morning but it felt urgent, sungchan was in a rush to tell you before the anyone else could. before she could.
reaching home felt terrifying for sungchan, he could only pray that you were awake by the time he opened the door. you were. he could see the subtle glow from the tv shine in the living room, he sucked in a deep breath as he saw you sat on the sofa, phone in hand, oblivious to the world around you. you were only alerted of his presence when he walked a little further into the room.
“hi”
“hi” he gave you a small smile as he sat down next to you, there was a noticeable gap between the two of you.
“how are yo-“
“i’m sorry” sungchan interrupted you, taking his time to let out a deep breath and wipe the sweat off of his hands onto his trousers. you didn’t say anything back to him, simply laying your phone on the arm of the chair and leaning back to listen to him talk. “a lot happened in the space of a week and i don’t even know where to begin i just want you to know i’m sorry”
“start from the beginning”
“somi came to me on day last week, she was distressed about something and she said it was because she found something out about you and she was worried about me because of it” sungchan watched as anxiety took over your face, your eyes widened and your lips parted but you didn’t say a thing. he instantly felt guilty that he never told you right away “someone showed her your cam account”
“oh”
“i should’ve told you right away but she started talking about telling people an-“
“and that i was just using you for my own benefit and i would’ve dropped you when i was done? like you said?” sungchan felt a slight pang in his heart when you spoke, a bad taste resting on his tongue as he thought back to what was said.
“yeah” you frowned a little, remembering the conversation the two of you had in the bathroom “i really am sorry for even thinking about doubting you, i know you’d never do anything like that but in the moment i just panicked i guess” you nodded and let him continue, not feeling the urge to comment yet “she told me that she had enough on you to tell everyone and expose you for what you’ve been doing and in the moment i thought the best thing would be the do what she asks instead of letting her hurt you again so i cancelled on you that night because she told me i had to go to her dad’s event with her and i felt so fucking had the whole time and when i saw you there all i felt was guilt” you didn’t say anything for a while, instead you let his words sit for a while.
sungchan was taken by surprise when you wrapped your arms around him, your head burying itself in the crook of his neck as you closed your eyes and breathed deeply. he was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, letting you snuggle into him as whilst he pressed his nose against your hair. despite the severity of the situation, he let himself relax in the moment, breathing in deeply and letting the smell of you take over his senses. “i should have told you”
“i get why you didn’t” you pulled back, eyes glazed over with tears as you looked at him “what about the article though?”
“i had no fucking idea about that i swear, i went and said mr jeon before i came here to clarify i had no idea about any of it, that i wasn’t dating somi and that i have nothing to do with the company”
“does he know who said it all?”
“no but he’s going to find out” he sucked in a breath and looked at you, breathing out deeply “when somi finds out about me doing this she’s probably going to do something drastic you know that right” you nodded, shrugging your shoulders as your fingers tangled through the bottom of his hair.
“i’ll get through it, if i get fired i’ll live. i make more than enough from streaming” sungchan laughed a little at your reception, surprised you were so calm.
“you don’t care?”
“i care but i had a feeling it would happen one day, i can take it sungchan. i really appreciate you trying to protect me but i’m okay” he smiled at you before he placed his fingers under your chin. opting to ignoring the chiming of his phone as he leaned in and kissed you softl.
behind the screen tag list
tag list. @midmourn n @svnghan @strayhowls s @minnieslover @shortnstupid @palchokitty @ilovechanhee @hikict @wccycc @revehosh @teddywook @hoonieq @glaieuls @kvstjwonnie @starrypen n @thinkabt-vivi @kyusqult @nanascupid @professsionalsimp p @beomgri @xenkimmie @dinosluver @jaehmarks s @hellonikitty @wolfiecaro @snoopyana @rosesfortaro @zhangyixingxing1 @hrts4tyun @forrds @mamathefifth @wonbinkisser @alwayswook @boogyu @haohoonz @wheatrice e @cvpidxo @soobsfairy444 @nadrs @wonbinfiles @tsumusakusa @chichiuu @bbgmingyu @outrologist @lilriswife4life @https-yeonjun @emoseob @riizenextdoor @h3lluh @shiannprincess101 @ioveslgn @iselltulips @w0nslvr @vernonburger @boopdidoo @planethyuka @joshuawifey @dearmyouth @bludzk1llzyuzu @andb1ue @reenfluffmarshmallow @jnkthy @luh @au-ghosttype
#✧ melody posts#✧ behind the screen#riize smau#sungchan smau#riize smut#sungchan smut#riize sungchan smut#riize sungchan smau
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gouh IM so love for friends and comrads but ough why did my social battery immediately run out
#i want to share more love#but the idea of talking to anyone else tonight is#excruciating#just know I love you all so so so so so so so much#you mnean the world to me and I love you#I love and care about you so much#im proud of you for getting through the day and you are all so awesome#<- person reading this absolutely no matter who#you are all amazing people#and absolutely extrodionary the world is a better place just because youre in it keep going dont give up I love you so much#rambling#phever dreams with phantom
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Fic idea of young Jancy hanging out in a pumpkin patch on Halloween ala it’s the great pumpkin Charlie Brown.
#I watched it tonight and I couldn’t get the idea out of my head#obviously it’s not the same but the vibes of instead of trick or treating with your friends you dip out and sit and talk with your crush#I probably won’t write it cause I’m all over the place with Jancy week and historical au week so if anyone else wants to you can#I may make art of it idk#going to bed for real now cause I’m tired#stranger things#jancy
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, misogyny, loss of virginity, mentions of blood (heavy mentions), mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), anal play, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Even Captain America deserves a reward after an intense, grueling mission.
𝐀/𝐍: Here we go! 16.3k words. Written very quickly. Not edited so please be forgiving. Also I don't have much knowledge on Shield and all that, so yeah! Final warning to PLEASE read the warnings! Anyways, enjoy!
“The girl’s ready, Captain.”
Steve nods at the SHIELD agent tersely, “She’s in my room?”
“Yes, sir. And all your specifications have been followed.”
“Good. You’re dismissed.”
The agent bows his head before leaving the office, and Steve finds himself pacing. He often paced after gruelling missions, as if trying to get all the leftover adrenaline out. Tonight had been particularly challenging; a local university under threat from HYDRA. Thousands of screaming staff and students, the air painted with gunshots and screams of chaos. But Steve’s team had come to the rescue. Just like they always did.
His team all had different ways of dealing with it, the trauma and evil they saw every day. Clint had his family to go home to, and some middle-of-nowhere farmhouse that Steve would’ve found quaint if he’d given more of a fuck. Tony’s solution was alcohol – copious amounts of it. And maybe that would’ve been Steve’s fate too, stumbling out of a bar at three in the morning having no idea where he was, but of course, he had the serum to thank for avoiding him that. Natasha immersed herself in her friends, Sam partied a lot, Bruce locked himself up in his lab because God knew he was wrestling more demons than anyone else. Except maybe Bucky… But even Bucky had a girl to help him cope.
That left Steve. But Steve had this.
I deserve this. He thinks it to himself as he makes his way out of his office and down the hall toward the elevator. There are SHIELD agents scattered here and there, chattering mindlessly about the successful mission and how, thanks to the Avengers, there were no civilian deaths. But they all hush when they see him, parting like the Red Sea, their heads bowed in respect as he walks past them. The Captain. The hero. Their leader. He’s still in his suit, the shield still on his back and bloodied cuts decorating his face. Nevertheless, he’s the face of the Avengers. Everyone in this building looks up to him.
Everyone on the face of this Earth looks up to him.
And a few minutes later, when he gets off the elevator and to his private floor, walks over to his bedroom door and opens it, he finds a large pair of eyes looking up at him too.
You jump, the fear on your face so evident that Steve can almost smell it. Standing in the corner of his room as if you want to permeate through the wall or maybe disappear altogether. Your arms hug your body in a bid to hide it from whoever you thought was going to enter this room, but you seem to relax once you see that it’s him.
“C-Captain, it’s you! Oh, thank God!” Your shoulders sag in relief, although – much to Steve’s displeasure – you continue to cover your body with your arms, “I-I don’t know what happened, but there’s some bad people here, and they took me while I was being evacuated from the university, a-and they brought me here and they wouldn’t answer my questions and–”
Steve frowns as you drone on and on, talking about a mile a minute – a quality he doesn’t particularly care for in a woman. But his eyes drink you nevertheless. You look young – a college student, no doubt – but he finds he doesn’t mind that. In fact, it makes his cock harden, seeing how wide-eyed and naïve you look, a lot younger than him. A pretty face, and an attractive body too despite the fact that you seemed hell bent on hiding it from him.
“Put your arms down by your side.” He commands you, watching closely as you stop mid-sentence, your voice trailing off. He can tell you’re uncomfortable, confused, and probably tired out from fighting and arguing with his agents. But he knows already what’s going through your mind: that you’ll obey because it’s Captain America, and Captain America was a hero who always meant well. Hesitantly, slowly, your arms fall down to your sides.
Steve had very specific tastes, and his agents knew to follow his instructions to a tee. Which was why you stood before him, your body sheathed in the prettiest, most expensive vintage lingerie. All lacy and intricate, just how Steve liked it – white and silky, hugging your body like a second skin and accentuating your curves, making you look like half angel, half seductress. He’d long ago, in a different lifetime, pored over old pin-up magazines, just like any other boy his age would. He’d likened the white lingerie in the pictures to be what his innocent bride would wear the night he deflowered her. Back in the forties, back when he’d been a different man, a man who actually cared about trivial things like marriage and family. Years of war and fighting had beaten that out of him.
And yet, almost a century later, Steve still has a partiality for white, lacy lingerie.
After every mission (successful or not) SHIELD would bring him a girl in vintage lingerie. Always an unsuspecting girl who had no idea what she was being pulled into. They came in all sorts of varieties; crying, kicking, screaming, paralysed in fear when they realised the reason they were in his bedroom. But Steve deserved it, for every single sacrifice he’d made for his country, for the world – he deserved this one bit of pleasure. Bucky had his girl, Sam had his parties, Tony had his alcohol, Bruce had his lab… And Steve had this.
And it was the least you could do, the least all those girls before you could do, because hadn’t Steve saved you? Saved all of you? This was his payment. You were his reward.
“C-Captain?” He notices how you can’t help but stutter, and he finds it amusing despite the fact that he’s used to having this effect on women – especially immature college girls like you. You gesture down to your body, “Th-This isn’t how I was dressed – they put me in this, those bad guys! N-Now I don’t know where my clothes are, and, and…”
Once more, your voice trails off as Steve walks past you nonchalantly. He heads to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open so he can keep an eye on you lest you try to escape. Not that you’d get very far – this whole floor was his and every lock required his facial recognition to open. In the past, other girls had tried to escape, and sometimes Steve enjoyed the chase. But tonight, he felt tense. He’d wanted to capture all the HYDRA agents but two of them had escaped. To Steve, that was failure, and failure made him tense. Angry. Frustrated. He needed someone submissive, obedient, quiet…
“C-Captain, I’m gonna be okay, aren’t I?” You ask, voice high-pitched and shaky, and Steve almost smirks. He stands in front of the sink, surveying the scratches on his face. They’d heal overnight, and once more he’d be the perfect face of the Avengers. The face of America. The face of hope, the face of good. If only they knew what went on behind his eyes, the thoughts he thought, the darkness behind the façade.
He washes his hands, observing the blood as it swirls down the drain of the sink.
“Sir… Captain… Is there a way I could call my family? They’ll be worried about me, and those people took my phone so I don’t–”
“Get on the bed.”
“H-Huh?”
“Get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself.”
Steve’s voice is soft, levelled, yet commanding. And he knows you’ll listen. He’s been over this with so many of the other girls brought in for him as a post-mission reward. You still trust him, he can see it in your eyes. You know him as the superhero you see on TV, where he’s all clean-cut and politically correct as he commands the hearts of millions through his motivational speeches and actions. And by the looks of it, you’re so naïve that he knows you haven’t yet figured out what “get on the bed” truly infers to.
And so you do, gingerly settling down on the edge of his king-sized bed, shaking like a little leaf but he can tell that you’re trying to keep a brave face as you look up at him, determined to trust the super-soldier that the whole country trusted. And breaking that trust, breaking that spirit that shone in your innocent eyes, that was the sweet release he needed tonight, or any other night after each mission made him grow more disillusioned. Breaking your trust, breaking your body so all of this was worth it.
Sometimes, Steve wonders when exactly he had changed. He remembers how plucky and optimistic he used to be. A little bit sardonic, a little bit sarcastic, but he really did have a heart of gold – at least that’s what people told him. Even after they’d dug him out from that iceberg, he’d still been that same guy. But that was years ago, and each day he grew more disillusioned with what he preached, what he stood for. He could never settle, never feel like he fully belonged in the world he kept risking his life to save over and over again. Even Bucky, who’d gone through so much, had managed to find fulfilment through finding love.
Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t think love exists.
What does exist is you… Sweet, quivering, innocent little you. The SHIELD agents know his tastes down to a tee, and physically, you’re everything he likes, everything he prefers. It’s nights like these when Steve really feels alive, when he snuffs out the innocence of some unsuspecting girl and reaps his reward for saving countless lives. He deserves this. God knows he deserves this.
“What’re you doing?” You whisper, eyes round as saucers as he reaches out to stroke your hair. He bristles slightly, annoyed by your persistant questions. You should know better – he was your superior after all. But you’d learn by the time the night was over, and so Steve resumes petting you, slipping his hand down to rub your cheek, feel your smooth skin under the rough callouses of his hand.
The same hand that had choked two or three HYDRA bastards to death earlier tonight.
“You will address me as Captain.” He says, dismantling his shield from his back and placing it on the floor against the bed. He follows your gaze, how your mouth drops open in awe despite how scared you are. His cock hardens, knowing you’re impressed by him. By his size, because he’s aware he looks even bigger in person than on the news – enough girls have told him that. And by the shield too, because it reflected his power, his status, everything that he supposedly stood for.
You clear your throat nervously, “S-Sorry, uh, Captain, I just, uh, I was wondering when you’d take me home,” you say the last few words quickly, as if you’re mouth’s dry and you’re rushing to get all your words out. “I n-need to get home, my parents will be worried about me, Captain, and I have homework–”
Steve almost snorts at that. Homework. You were even more innocent than he thought you were, if one of your biggest concerns was whether you’d get your homework done or not. And this naivete amuses him, enamours him, but most importantly, it gets him hard.
“You’ll be taken home tomorrow.” He informs you, his tone clipped and formal, clinical like a doctor informing his patient when they’d be discharged. He liked to keep it like that between him and his “rewards.” Steve didn’t believe in intimacy, and didn’t feel the need to waste kindness on you or any of the previous girls. He faked kindness and heroic optimism all day, it was only at night in the privacy of his quarters that he could shed all that away and allow his darkness to take over.
“T-Tomorrow? Why? Why not tonight? And why am I here, anyways? Everyone else was evacuated together!”
“Enough.” He says sternly, and you shrink back like a chastised child, or an injured puppy. He watches your lower lip as it juts out, and he wonders if you’ve done that on purpose as a way to appease him. He wouldn’t fall for it though, he was wise to women and all their cheap tricks they used to wrap weaker, lesser men around their fingers. Steve would never be one of those men. “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”
Your lower lip quivers, “I don’t understand…”
He sits down next to you, acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. Leisurely, his eyes drink in your body now that he’s much closer to you. The bra pushes your breasts upwards so they spill out attractively over the creamy white lace of the lingerie, and he watches them rise up and down as you breathe heavily, probably trying to keep yourself from crying. He wishes you would cry – tears have always turned him on. But the night is young, and he knows he’ll see some tears soon, he always does.
“C-Captain, please, please help me! I’m so confused and I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how I got into this outfit, I think they drugged me, and I’m scared, and I have homework, and I gotta go now, so pl– OW!”
Steve yanks you forward by your hair, till your face is inches from his, and he can practically smell your fear. Eyes as big as saucers look up at him, shining bright with unshed tears of both fear and pain. He loosens his grip slightly, despite the fact he isn’t holding you too tightly – but the serum gives him inhumane strength, and you’re just a weak little girl after all.
“Once again, I’m telling you not to speak without permission. Do not make me repeat myself one more time.”
You swallow harshly, bowing your head once he lets go of your hair. But your lips are now pressed tightly together, as if you’re hoping he’ll take you home if you shut up and listen. There’s still light in your eyes, you’re beginning to question him inwardly but you still trust him, Steve knows you do. And it’s not long now before he crushes that trust completely.
He sighs at your compliance, stroking your quivering bare arm, thrill shooting straight down to his cock because of how soft and smooth you are. He likes the juxtaposition between the two of you right now: you, so soft and small, so much younger than him, like a doll in your pretty lingerie that he’d picked out. And him, more than double your size, jaded with age that didn’t physically show, bloodied and scratched suit, rough hands, dark thoughts.
“C-Captain, I’m scared,” you whisper, and you really do look like you’re about to wet yourself, and it turns him on so much that he doesn’t even bristle at you speaking out of turn again.
“Good.” He murmurs, continuing to stroke you like you’re his little doll. There’s something about you, something so pure that he can’t really put his finger on. In the past, he’s been detached, unforgiving, often just throwing his “reward” on the bed, holding her head down against the mattress while he fucked the living daylights out of her. He would be detached and cold with you too, but this time he feels a peculiar need to savour you at the same time.
It's when he grabs your hand and places it on his hard crotch that you start crying in earnest, finally realising your fate.
“What’re you– No, please, not that! Please, I don’t know what’s going on, Captain, please–”
You try to snatch your hand back, but he holds it steadily in place. You’d never be a match for his strength, no matter how hard you tried – he had more brute power in his pinkie finger than you did in your whole body. And that turns him on even more.
“You’ll go home tomorrow,” he repeats, not even sure why he’s explaining anything to you, because he usually doesn’t speak to the girls brought for him at all, let alone reassure them. “Tomorrow, you’ll see your family but tonight, your body is mine and I’ll do with it what I please.”
You look like you’ve seen a ghost, but quickly you shake your head, blinking rapidly as if you’ve misheard him. “N-No, Captain, I don’t want to! Y-You can’t make me,” you look at him pleadingly, trying to tug your hand back but he holds it firmly against his covered cock, “You won’t make me, will you, Captain? Th-That’s wrong! An’ you’re a good man so you’d never do that!”
“Take it out.”
A different man would have perhaps consoled you, told you it would all be over soon, or maybe even made up an excuse to manipulate you into sleeping with him. A better man would’ve taken pity on you, given you your clothes back and taken you home. But Steve wasn’t like any of those men. All Steve was right now was impatient, and more than ready for his reward. I deserve it, he thinks once more to himself, before pressing your small hand down on his crotch meaningfully.
“Take my dick out.” He repeats sternly, and when you still don’t comply (probably because you’re frozen in shock and fear) Steve can’t help but quickly undo his fly before pushing your hand down his suit pants, letting out a hiss when he feels your dainty palm and fingers on his rock-hard flesh.
“No, no, no, please no,” you cry softly, rivulets of tears streaking your face, “This is wrong, Captain, please.”
He makes you wrap your hand around his cock, smirking to himself when your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping around all the way. The serum had made him a lot bigger than average, and a lot thicker too. So much so that every time he had sex, no matter how much he stretched the girls out, there would always be blood. He’d grown to become turned on by the sight of it.
“I’ve seen you on TV,” you whisper desperately, and he knows you’re in that state of mind where you’re just so scared that you’ll say anything and everything, “I’ve seen how you are, a-and you’re supposed to be the good guy, Captain. Please, let me go, y-you’re a good man so please–”
“Shut up.” He says simply, making you take his dick out. That quietens you up for a second, and you gape at his huge dick as it slaps up against his abs which are still covered by the suit. He hasn’t had sex or jacked off in about a week now (missions, press conferences, community work and other bullshit had kept him busy) and his dick is almost angry hard, the veins so prominent as he throbs in your hand.
“Stroke it.” He instructs you.
You shake your head, hand limp around his hard cock, “You c-can’t, this is wrong.”
“Drop the coy act,” he orders you, feeling a surge of impatience when he’s tried to be level with you for so long, “I know what you kids watch these days on the internet, and all the vulgar movies on television. Now do what I fucking say, or else.”
You look both taken aback and hurt by his sharper tone, and immediately you’re shaking your head.
“N-No, Sir, please. I don’t watch any of that stuff, I’m not allowed to, okay? A-And this is wrong on so many levels, you’re meant to be a good guy!”
Steve finds his cock hardening even more when he hears how you’re not allowed to watch the vulgarity that’s become so normalised in the media now as compared to back in the day. Were you, perhaps, a girl with morals? Someone who was raised well? He had yet to run in to such a girl in the twenty-first century.
“I’ve seen you on the news,” you try again when he doesn’t speak, “you and the Avengers, you’ve saved c-countless people. You’ve won wars for us. I w-went to see you when you gave a talk at my school last year, the one about good versus evil. You’re an inspiration, Captain, you wouldn’t do this!”
You’re talking a mile a minute, and Steve knows you’re doing it to prolong time till your inevitable fate. He’s tortured enough men to know that goners loved to run their mouths. As for what you’re saying, it has zero effect on him. He didn’t believe in what he said, what he stood for – you could never use that to persuade him to take a higher road.
He starts moving your hand up and down on his dick, hissing again because of how pleasurable your dainty hand feels on his rock-hard length, not to mention how much it turns him on that you’re still trying to pull your hand away, looking anywhere but at his cock, embarrassment mixing with the bone-chilling fear on your face.
“Y-You’re not a good man!” you finally sob out, shaking from head to toe as realisation finally seeps through your head.
Your words bristle Steve for whatever reason. In the past, his “rewards” have often back-talked him, insulted him as if they thought their words would have any impact on him – which they never did. But seeing you, with your bright, optimistic eyes that clearly looked up to him up until this moment, hearing you call him a bad guy… It makes him feel defensive.
“I saved you.” He spits out, “HYDRA attacked your university and I saved you and all your little friends. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”
You nod desperately, “I-I know, Captain, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing thi–”
“I deserve this.” He says simply, cutting you off. “I risk my life to save unthankful people like you, over and over again. Even a super soldier deserves payment, or at least an incentive to do what I do.”
Your jaw drops open, speechless and horrified. Steve couldn’t care less, and he feels another wave of impatience. Two weeks ago, he’d endured a similarly gruelling mission, and his reward had been waiting for him in his room. She’d been mouthy, of course, as most women of the twenty-first century were, but he’d fucked her and sent her packing within fifteen minutes. So why, on this particular occasion, was he sitting here making idle chit-chat with some dumb-witted college girl who was half his age?
He's always been quick, and you yelp in surprise when he grabs you by the waist, his rough fingers digging into your soft skin. He drags you into his lap, till you’re crying on top of him, your back to his chest. You struggle and flail against him, but it’s to no avail as he presses you down on top of his thigh, spreading your legs and locking them with his own.
“Stop struggling,” he orders you through gritted teeth, although he has to admit that having a weak girl like you fighting against him with all her might while he held you down with just his one arm was quite arousing, “It’ll be easier for you if you just stay still.”
“Please don’t, I-I’m not ready for this, I’ve never done this before, I–”
Steve snorts at that. He knows you’re young, but he also knows that girls in this century are promiscuous, and that’s putting it kindly. How many lies would you tell before you realised they’d all be in vain? He was goddamned Captain America, and he was going to have his way with you tonight no matter what came out of that pretty, pouty mouth of yours.
Grabbing your soft, bare thighs with his hands, he pushes them further apart, all while you cry and quiver in his arms like a wounded animal. Your white, lacy panties hide your pussy from his greedy, impatient gaze, and he wants nothing more than to rip your lingerie apart and ravage you to soothe the ache of his hard cock which is currently pressing against your back.
“Push your panties aside.” He commands, “and don’t even think about arguing with me. One more word of insubordination out of you, and you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”
You’re sobbing and sobbing as you gingerly do what he says, and he licks his lips when he sees your bare pussy, trussed out for him as he holds your legs apart. He can’t help but press a finger on your bundle of nerves before swiping downwards over your slit. He frowns. You’re not wet. That simply won’t do.
Of course, he’s been in this situation before. Not often, because truthfully, women got wet the second they looked at him, turned on by his size, his power, his authority. But sometimes, like now, when one of his “rewards” was very scared and non-compliant, she wouldn’t be wet. Steve didn’t care, and he’d go in dry if he could except, with the sheer size of his dick, it just wasn’t physically possible. Often, he’d tell the SHIELD agents to prep his rewards before they were sent to his room – stretch their pussies out by whatever means (he didn’t care) so long as they were able to take his girth.
But you… Oh, he reckons he’ll have fun with stretching you out all by himself.
“Touch yourself.” He says into your ear, holding you in place tightly.
“I…I…I don’t know how, I don’t– I don’t do this, I’ve never done this, I–”
There’s something about your frightened demeanour that makes him realise that maybe you’re not lying after all. He raises a brow, “You’ve never touched yourself?”
“N-No, Sir – I mean Captain – I’m not allowed to. My parents are very conservative, Sir, I haven’t even had my first kiss. Please don’t make me do this!”
Steve didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, but it does. So big and painfully hard, it presses against your back almost indecently as he licks his lips, now infinitely more interested in you. So you were a girl raised right in these godforsaken “modern” times. His mind conjures up different ways in which he could teach you, mould you, ruin you… He doesn’t remember the last time he had a virgin – it was probably back in the forties, back when women were pure and of good heart and good intentions.
Maybe tonight’s reward would be sweeter than any other.
He grabs your hand, pressing it against your petal-soft folds. He takes your pointer finger and slowly, gently, circles it around your clit. You fight against him but it only takes you a few seconds to realise that your efforts are completely futile. Steve does not care for what you want, not in the least. You’re his reward, and he deserves this.
He leaves your finger on your clit, shooting you a deathly look that conveys that you better keep circling it or else. His own eager fingers explore your core, slipping down to probe you, finding that not even one of his fingers fits inside your little fuckhole. In fact, he tries pushing his pinkie finger up inside but to no avail at all. Fuck. You weren’t lying – you were definitely a virgin. Another telltale sign is how it only takes a handful of seconds before your wetness begins to spread, and you whimper softly – probably at all the foreign sensations you’re feeling as Steve continues to probe your hole.
“Feels good, huh?” Steve hears himself say softly, and he doesn’t know why he’s bothering wasting words on you. He never spoke to any of his other rewards – they were only there for his pleasure, and may as well have been inanimate objects to him. Dolls brought in for him to use and then promptly taken away when he was done with them. But you? Fuck, Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.
“I-It won’t fit, Captain, please stop,” you cry softly when he tries to force his finger into you again. You’re adequately wet now, but your pussy continues to reject his finger, and he knows there’s no way you’ll be able to take his dick if he doesn’t stretch you out with his fingers first.
“I’ll make it fit,” he mutters, throwing you aside on the bed and standing up quickly. He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting your sweetness and shutting his eyes for a second to savour your taste. And then he shoots you a warning look, “Stay there.”
He smirks when you don’t move an inch – probably paralysed with fear – as he walks over to the dresser next to his bed. Rummaging through his drawers, he sorts past all the sex toys that some agent had probably stocked up inside. Steve didn’t have much use for them, as he considered himself too traditional for toys. But he can’t help but be turned on by the idea of using a large dildo on you, or stuffing your virgin ass with a cute plug. But for right now, he grabs the bottle of lube – it’s half empty because of how often he’s had to use it on his past partners. Since the serum, his dick was way too big to go in naturally, especially when it came to a sweet virgin like you.
Roughly, he pushes you down till your back is pressed against his king-sized mattress. He climbs on top of you, rolling his eyes at the fight left in you, how you flail and fight against him despite his body being more than twice your size. He uses his arm to hold you down, but truthfully, he could’ve done it with just his pinkie finger.
“Stay still,” he commands, pinning your limbs down flat against the bed. You resort to sniffling and crying silently, your wary eyes watching him as he spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. A sudden feral urge takes over him, and he rips your panties in half, the flimsy material landing gracefully on his sheets. Your bare pussy glistens up at him, now wet with your sweet cream despite how much you continue to cry. He can smell your sexy aroma; the scent of a virgin pussy and it goes straight to his dick.
With an animalistic snarl, he dips his head down between your legs. Using two fingers to spread your creamy petals, he lays his tongue flat against your quivering fuckhole. You scream in shock, body jerking underneath him but he doesn’t care. He grips your thighs, lifting your ass and lower back up off the bed, watching carnally as your wetness drips down to between your ass crack. He spreads your cheeks, smirking when you wail in surprise. He digs his eager tongue between your cheeks, probing your puckered, virgin ass before licking a straight line all the way back up to your pussy, ending with a harsh suck on your clit as he holds your hands at bay.
It’s come out of nowhere, this sudden need to taste you. Back in the forties; Steve had rather enjoyed going down on women. He knew he was skilled at giving head, he’d been told more than enough times. But he can’t remember the last time he’d done it. Never with any of his “rewards,” who were only ever good for fucking on their hands and knees like dogs. But you, you were different.
You wiggle, crying and begging him to let go of you but you may as well be a fly with how weak and inconsequential your pleas are to his ears. Instead, he laps at your baby cunt like he’s starved. Like a starved caveman, he spits down on your clit, wanting to make your pureness as messy as possible. He spreads his saliva all over your core with his fingers, marking you up with his DNA. He encases your now engorged bundle of nerves between his lips once more, giving it another hard suck but this time his teeth graze against it.
“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”
It’s when Steve finally forces his one finger inside you that you squirt, drenching his digit as your walls clamp down around it. And God-fucking-dammit, he can’t believe how tight you’re squeezing his one singular finger, how tight and sexy and soft you feel around it. How your slippery walls pulsate around his digit like you’ve never cum before in your life – which would explain how quickly you’ve come undone. Some of your wetness lands on his face, some of it on the sheets beneath you, and that’s when Steve realises he’s given a virgin her first orgasm.
He can’t help but smirk, his finger still lodged inside you, but not even halfway because you’re still so fucking tight.
“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop after all, sweetheart.” He says, not realising he’s used the pet-name on you until it’s already out of his mouth. He sets the lower half of your body back down on the bed, his finger still inside you.
You sniffle as your whole body shakes with the remnants of your orgasm, “P-Please,” you say faintly, and you can’t even raise your head to look down at him, “Please, can I go home now?”
Steve’s lip curls into a snarl, and he drives his finger inside you with renewed force, curving it upwards even when he feels resistance. You scream bloody murder, and he knows if your orgasm hadn’t sapped all your energy, you’d be flailing your legs again. But for now, he easily holds you down, feeling your soft walls encase his finger which is now up to the hilt inside you. That’s when he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting out a generous amount onto the rest of his fingers.
“N-No, Captain, please, I can’t take another one, I can’t, I can’t!” You plead, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Captain – Steve – please listen to me, please, look, I can’t take another finger, pl–”
His palm lands on your clit with a wet smacking sound, and you howl in pain, your pelvis lifting off the bed except he pins you back down with just one hand.
“Don’t fucking use my first name. You will address me as Captain. One more slip up and I won’t do you the favour of stretching you out.” His intense blue eyes meet your tear-filled ones, “And trust me, you want to be stretched out for when I fuck you.”
With gritted teeth and a cock that’s now painfully hard, he gets to work trying to stuff another finger into your pussy. His other hand grabs your hip in a bruising grip, and his fingers stroke your smooth, bouncy ass every so often like he can’t help it. You’re turning him on so fucking much; with your crying, how you’re begging him to stop, how weak and small you are, how fucking tight your pussy is. It makes Steve want to say something just so he can hear you speak in response, despite the fact that he’s never vocal during sex.
“Tell me, why is your pussy so fucking tight?”
“H-Huh?”
“You heard me.”
You sniffle again, shooting him a pleading look that he doesn’t even bother acknowledging. He just looks at you with waiting eyes as he nonchalantly continues to force his second finger inside you. He wants to hear you say naughty things with your innocent little mouth, and talking would get you to fucking relax so he could penetrate you with his digits properly in order to stretch you out in preparation for his dick.
“I-I’ve never done this before…” you scrunch your eyes shut, but a quick slap to your thigh has you opening them again.
“You’ve never fingered yourself?”
“No!”
“Tell me why not.”
You bow your head, “I don’t know… I just… I never did, okay? I’ve never done any of it.”
A wicked thought crosses Steve’s mind, “Oh yeah? You’ve never done anything naughty, huh? You’re a good girl?” His second finger curves up to join the first, and your hips jerk forward as you suck in your breath. It makes him smile, and he slowly begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, “You’ve never, say, humped your baby cunt against your pillow at night? Or your stuffed animals?”
The way you freeze and how your eyes widen is all the confirmation Steve needs. He chuckles darkly.
“So that’s the type of girl you are. Riding your pillow at night when you think no one’s watching, and you probably touch your body all over, too, don’t you?” Lightning quick, his other hand leaves your hip, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to your chest. Through the material of your bra, he makes you cup your breast like how he would, wanting to watch with dark eyes as you play with your tits, trying to imagine how hot you’d look doing just that all alone in the privacy of whatever girlish bedroom you had.
Steadily, he continues to finger you, pumping his digits in and out of your greedy, wet pussy, and it makes slurping sounds as it swallows his fingers in over and over again. And he observes you carefully, notices your wide eyes, the sweat on your brow, the way your lips are parted as your breathing shallows out. He even sees the slight buck of your hips, and he knows he has you where he wants you, hanging on to his every filthy word despite your mind screaming at you to continue resisting.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve mutters lowly, “I know that’s what all innocent little girls like you do when they think they’re alone. You play with your tits and you rub your cunt all over your pillow, till you’ve got it all wet and messy. All while you fantasise about a man like me fucking you, taking care of you, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”
You’re full on panting now, as if his beguiling words have made you forget all about your resistance, and you rock your hips harder against his thick fingers, little pants and moans sneaking past your pouty lips as he watches you closely.
“And then you act like a good girl, and you lie to me and tell me you’ve never touched yourself. But you and I both know that’s not true. Not when you spend your nights alone in your bedroom riding your little pillow while mommy and daddy sleep in the next room, and then when you’re done, I bet you bring it up to your face, just so you can smell your own wetness, right?”
This time, he gives your ass a swift slap when you don’t reply, and you cry out in pain before squeezing your eyes shut.
“Y-Yes,” you breathe softly, so softly that he barely catches it. But it makes him grin wickedly all the same. He hasn’t had this much fun with a reward since God knows when. He never bothers speaking to the lowlife girls brought to him as post-mission rewards, let alone engaging in dirty talk with them as he was with you, hanging on to your every word because it makes his dick so fucking hard.
“Of course, I’m right,” he mutters, “Captain always knows. I know you’re a little slut in the making just like all the other college girls of this century. You bring your pillow up to your face and you smell your cunt on there, and you lick it too, don’t you? You taste yourself because you’re curious, and you don’t have a man like me to show you how it’s done.”
He slips his fingers out of your cunt, your walls automatically squeezing around them as if they want to keep him inside you. But his digits are dripping wet, and he brings them up to your face. He shoves them past your lips, and you protest but all it does is create vibrations around his fingers as he smears them inside your mouth.
“Taste yourself,” he orders you, “suck on daddy’s fingers, don’t be shy.”
It takes him a few seconds to register that he’s just referred to himself as daddy. He hasn’t done that in a while – not since the forties, at least. Back then, it was quite common for women to call their man daddy, and Steve remembers enjoying it when he used to fuck the show girls during tours. But now? He usually stuck to being called “sir” or “captain” or just nothing at all. Because “daddy” was way too intimate, it suggested that he was going to take care of you. And he wasn’t going to take care of you – he was going to ruin you before you’d be taken away tomorrow.
And yet you look so sweet and cute as you suck on his fingers, too scared to fight back any more although your eyes blaze with objection, and tears stream down your face. He doesn’t think you’ll stop crying at all tonight, but he doesn’t give a fuck about that. Not when your pouty lips look so hot sucking yourself off his fingers.
“That’s right, get ‘em nice and wet,” he murmurs lowly, before deciding he misses the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his fingers – and he still has to stretch you out, too. He removes his digits from your mouth, watching as you gasp to breathe. He trails them down your front, down your chest, down your torso, all the way down to your clit. He gives it another smack, loving how you jerk upwards like you’re so damn sensitive.
He grabs a pillow, putting it underneath your ass so he has your cunt propped up and he can examine it better. Your cream is pouring out of you almost, dripping down to the pillow below you while you cry and pretend you don’t like it. But the signs are all there, he can even see how your pelvis shakes and humps upwards, because you need a man to fill you up no matter how much you protest.
“Tight little baby cunt,” he says softly as he spreads your pussy lips once more. You look so wet and slippery and yet he knows he needs to pour some more lube into your fuckhole, which he does. And then, without giving you much time to react, he shoves three of his fingers inside you, pushing harder and with more force when he’s met with any barrier.
“STOP, NO, PLEASE! STOP, CAPTAIN – TOO MUCH!” You scream so loudly that the walls seem to vibrate around the two of you.
“Shut up and take it,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes up at you before he focuses back on your gorgeous cunt, watching as your leaking hole finally swallows his three digits, “Look at this greedy little virgin pussy, so ready for my big dick to split her in half.”
You shake your head violently, crying and protesting, but it’s when you bat at his head that he sees red. How fucking dare you hit him? Just now, when he was thinking you’d been raised well, but clearly not if you didn’t think it was a problem to hit your superiors.
“You raise your hand at me again, and I’ll hit you back twice as hard.”
His menacing words make you freeze, and you whimper quietly in absolute fear as he continues to play with your pussy. He fingers you in earnest now, three of his digits stretching you out as he scissors you open, amused by the squelching sounds your cunt makes as it swallows his fingers over and over again.
“Apologise to me,” Steve demands, “say you will not raise your hand at your superior ever again.”
You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”
“Sorry, who?” He pinches your ass unforgivingly.
“Sorry, Captain! I won’t raise my hand at my superiors, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You squeal the last few words, your pitch going higher and higher as your hips begin to meet his thrusts. And bless your innocent fucking face, you look so confused by what’s happening. Your pussy’s jammed tight but he knows it must’ve started feeling good. All greedy little girls like you needed was a little push in the right direction.
Off their own accord, your thighs lock around his hand as you cum for a second time, your walls squeezing and pulsating against his fingers so fucking tightly as you mewl and cry above him. You’re absolutely gushing with wetness now, and the pillow below your ass is stained dark with your juices. For someone who kept claiming she didn’t want this, you sure were receptive to his touch.
Steve snatches his fingers out of you, smirking when you, despite everything, cry in protest at the loss of friction. He bets your pussy feels all gaping and empty now, because he knows how big and thick his fingers are. A normal-sized man would’ve had trouble stretching your virgin cunt out with his dick – Steve had had that same problem with just his fingers.
But he knows he’ll somehow manage to fit his cock inside you if he prepped you well enough. Or else he’d spend the whole night trying to. Often, with the women he’d slept with in the past, he’d be too impatient and couldn’t be bothered to prep them properly. Because of that, he’d only be able to fit half his dick inside them, and he’d grown used to fucking them like that, only because it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He won’t let that be the case tonight.
He climbs up your quivering body, and you look spent already after two orgasms, your eyes fluttering like you’re about to pass out. Steve can’t have that though, and he taps your cheek not so gently, hovering on top of you till you open your eyes and meet his gaze.
“Please, Captain,” you whisper faintly, “E-Enough, please. Can’t take any more.”
Steve ignores you. He’s grown distracted by your lips. How wet and warm and pouty they look, glistening with a mix of your salty tears, your cum and your saliva. Fuck. He never kissed any of his “rewards” before, it was too intimate and Steve didn’t do intimacy. But maybe…
He spits down on your face, his saliva landing on your cheek as you cringe. Fuck intimacy, Steve thinks, using his hand to smear his spit all over your face, till it’s shining with a mixture of both your bodily fluids. So messy yet so pretty…
“N-Never been kissed before!” you blurt out once more all of a sudden, as if you’ve read his mind. Your eyes plead up at him, a tiny bit of hope in your eyes as if you truly believe he’ll show you empathy and spare you, “P-Please, Sir. I’ve never been kissed, a-and I want it to be special…”
How cute. You were worried about him spoiling your first kiss as if he hadn’t just finger-fucked you to two orgasms in the span five minutes. Amused, he brings his thumb up to your mouth, stroking your pouty bottom lip gently.
“You don’t let the boys at your college kiss you?” He asks, again not fully understanding why he’s even bothering to talk to you, but he figures it’s simply because he finds it amusing.
“N-No, Captain.”
“Why not?”
“I’m t-too shy, and they’re not… they’re not interested in me,” you sound so shaky, peering up at him as if you expect him to just get off you now you’ve told him your sob story about wanting to save your first kiss to be something special.
Steve snorts. And just how fucking naïve could you be? You’re fucking delectable, he bets the lowlifes at your college creamed their pants thinking about you. Suddenly, he bristles at the thought of sending you back tomorrow, back to the dumb idiots you went to college with. But he shakes the thought out of his mind to focus solely on you.
“There’s nothing special about kissing,” he tells you, “Love, intimacy, saving yourself for that special someone – none of that’s real. The sooner you realise that, the better.”
He kisses you, cupping your cheeks with his hands so that you don’t move your face aside. At first, he’s rough, unforgiving, pressing his tongue into your mouth because you taste so sweet and he needs to get more. And then he slows down, registers your soft, quivering lips on his, how rigid they are as you don’t kiss him back. He snorts inwardly, not caring in the least. He’d kiss you all he wanted – he doesn’t care if you don’t respond.
Steve sighs into your mouth, so tuned in to your senses that he feels your breath hitch, and a tiny squeak sounds past your lips and straight into his. His thumbs, seemingly moving off their own accord, stroke your cheekbones, and he feels your body instinctively relax underneath his – probably because that’s the first and only gentle gesture you’ve felt from him this whole night.
Slowly, he sucks your bottom lip almost sweetly, as if lulling you into a false sense of security. You’re still too scared or shy to kiss him back, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable for him. His tongue plays with yours coaxingly, because he can’t remember the last time he kissed a girl and liked it so much. And then he feels you give a tiny little kitten lick, as if you’re testing the waters as you move your tongue shyly against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick.
He pulls away slightly to watch your face, amused when he sees your eyes scrunched shut and your lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. And that’s what he does, giving you one, two, three quick pecks that have you inhaling deeply, and your eyes open cautiously. But they flutter shut almost immediately when they find him staring back at you.
Steve goes in for another kiss, as if one wasn’t enough because suddenly it’s like he’s parched, and his raging hard on would have to wait a second longer. His dick is as hard as a metal rod, resting against your bare stomach as he makes out with you. One of his hands reach down to cup your breast, and he can feel your nipple, hard as glass, poke against his palm even through the material of the bra. You squeak into his mouth again, as if him touching and playing with your breast is making your body invertedly respond to him.
He can definitely feel you kissing him back now, even though it’s shy and periodic… Your tongue moving slowly against his for a few seconds before you remember you’re not supposed to be enjoying this and you freeze. And then you start again, your tongue timidly stroking against his once more. Then you stop again. Repeat. It makes him smirk against your lips, feeling a rumbling in his chest like he wants to chuckle in amusement.
He pulls away, examining how breathless and cute you look. And you gaze up at him with glassy, wet eyes, those perfect, pouty lips still slightly puckered, as if you’re asking for more. But he continues to just drink in every detail of your face and how you look a mix of scared and curious, afraid and confused.
“W-Was I bad?” you breathe, and your innocent face is begging for reassurance. He knows because little girls like you always want reassurance, are always seeking out the approval of men like him. And a part of him wants to tell you no, no you weren’t bad at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed kissing you. But he keeps his mouth shut, because it wasn’t his job to reassure you. And maybe he wants you to be a bit insecure; you’d work harder in pleasing him if you thought he didn’t like your kiss.
He’s still cupping your breast with one hand, and he suddenly feels a wave of irritation at the lacy material of your bra. Quick as a wink, he tears your bra apart, the two ripped pieces now lying on either side of you. A hungry growl emanates from him, and he feels like an animal, he really just wants to suck on your tits but his dick is growing impatient, and you’d probably pass out from fear and dread if he stretched this out any longer.
He reaches to grab a condom from where he stashes them in his bedside drawer. Protection was a must for him – who knew what kinds of diseases all these modern, promiscuous girls were carrying? And yet, his hand falters before he draws back completely, his mind clouding with thoughts of how sexy your soft pussy would feel around his dick if he fucked you raw. Yes. He had to fuck you raw, feel your tight virgin pussy around him as he ruined it. He deserved as much.
Instead, Steve grabs the lube once more, acutely aware of you watching him with eyes round as saucers as he squirts a generous amount of it on his dick. He looks back at you, lying deathly still underneath him, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. He wonders if your pussy’s still tingling from the two orgasms he’s just given you, and he absentmindedly pumps his dick at the thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on before in his life, his dick so hard he feels he’ll blow his load right there and then.
He lines his cock up against your entrance, his hands holding your silky soft thighs apart. A part of him wishes you’d fight back just one more time, just so he could exert his dominance over you once more, just so it would highlight how weak and small you are. But you lay there, quivering in fear, definitely too scared to fight back, or too distracted by his dick he glides it up and down your wet slit in anticipation.
Suddenly, you grab his arm as if to stop him, and Steve narrows his eyes.
“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly.
“Yes.”
You whimper, your grip on his arm tightening as another tear trickles down your cheek, and you look up at him with desperate eyes.
“Please, Captain, p-please could you… could you make it hurt less? Please?” You beg him so prettily, and he can’t help but focus on how your tears get caught in your lashes, and how you sniffle like a baby. “Please, I’m sc-scared, I– maybe if you were slow–?”
“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Steve says briskly, feeling impatient beyond belief, and yet a part of him wants to brush and collect your tears. “In fact, if I go in slowly, it’ll hurt more.” He wonders if he should say more, say anything at all to ease your discomfort. But he reasons that that’s not his job – he’s not a lovesick boyfriend who needs to worry about your feelings. This is for him. He deserves this.
You start crying softly once more, your whole body shaking. Steve tries to ignore it, focusing on your cunt instead. His dick is twitching with excitement, the tip an angry red as he brings it up against your fuckhole. He grits his teeth and pushes in, but he can’t. You’re too tight – and he’s way too big. He sighs in frustration.
“Stop being so tense.” He orders you, pouring another decent amount of lube all over his cock as well as your entrance. He’d scissored you open with three of his fingers, but it had been an extremely tight fit. And three of his fingers didn’t compare to the girth and thickness of his dick – not even the tip of it. He frowns down at you, “You need to relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”
A panicked look flits over your face as you look down at his dick, and he knows you’re intimidated by his size. But then you take a deep breath, close your eyes and he feels your body get less tense underneath him. He smirks.
He grabs his cock by the base and lines it up against your hole once more. You flinch away from him, your innocent, puppy dog eyes blinking up at him. He doesn’t give a fuck though, and with a lot more determination this time, he grits his teeth and forces his way inside you.
Your scream is earth-shattering. But it’s music to his ears.
“NO, PLEASE, NO, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TOO BIG!”
You thrash violently underneath him, limbs flailing before he pins them down. But for a handful of seconds, he can’t even really focus on you. Not when he’s finally basking in the glory of being inside your tight little snatch, and it feels almost euphoric. You feel so sexy around him, so hot and velvety, squeezing the life out of his fat cock. Well, he’s only got a bit more than his tip inside you, but it already feels fucking heavenly.
“Oh fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, trying to get a grip and not get too lost in the feeling of your gorgeous fucking pussy. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and yet he feels like his balls are about to blow with how fucking hot it feels being inside you like this.
“It hurts! T-Take it out, Captain! Please!” Your tiny hand grabs his forearm again, lips puckered so sweetly, even the grimace on your face looks beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re in pain, and he’s addicted to the sight of it. For a split second, he imagines it’s his wedding night, and you’re his beautiful bride – sweet, innocent, beautiful bride and he’s just popped your cherry and now you’re his forever.
The thought makes him shudder, and he quickly pulls out (not that there’s much to pull out, since only his tip had entered you. You were crying and screaming just from being penetrated by only his tip, and this makes Steve smug, despite everything).
You’ve barely caught your breath when he drives his dick back inside you, and this time he really forces it in. Now that he’s got a taste of your warmth, he wants to be completely enveloped in it. His hands grab your hips tightly, forcing his fat cock inside you inch by inch. He doesn’t care if it takes all night, he was going to fully penetrate you if it was the last thing he did.
“Shhh, shut up and take it,” he orders you as you scream and protest. If any other one of his girls had screamed bloody murder the way you were doing right now, he would’ve smacked them unconscious. Not you though, and he doesn’t know why that is. “God fucking dammit, how is your pussy so fucking tight?”
“Y-You’re too big,” you answer, shaking your head over and over again, “th-this… this isn’t normal, Captain, y-you won’t fit! Please stop, something’s gonna break, I-I’m scared, I–”
He wants to break your pussy. He wants to break you.
“Shut up,” he snarls, before a thought occurs to him. Out of nowhere, he kisses you once more. Silencing your protests as his tongue works against yours, and he finds that he was already missing kissing you. God, you felt so good. Your warm, sexy lips against his and your warm, sexy pussy gripping his dick. God, fuck… So this is what great sex was, huh? Maybe he’d been fucking the wrong girls this whole time. Maybe he should’ve sought you out from the beginning – or someone like you. Someone young, innocent, unexperienced, delicate, fragile, a cry-baby. Just the complete opposite of him.
Despite everything, you kiss him back once more. Steve bets it’s because your girlish mind is trying to convince him (and yourself) that you’re a good kisser. He makes a mental note never to give you this reassurance – that way you’d just keep kissing him as if you had something to prove. Or at least that was the hope. Nevertheless, the kissing distracts you enough for him to still inside you (he’d only gotten less than a quarter of his huge dick in) and then he pulls out.
The third time he penetrates you, he does it with more force than ever before. And he bites your lip hard, grunting against you till he can taste your blood. That’s when he finally pushes more than halfway inside you, and he hears something rip from within. And you scream, you scream so fucking loudly and straight into his mouth, but he continues to kiss you, basking in the feeling of being inside you properly now. His dick feels so constricted inside your tight walls, but it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.
He breaks the kiss to look down into your eyes, and savour your reaction to being impaled by him, to being filled up by only half his length. But your head lolls to the side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
You’ve passed out.
“What a fucking baby,” Steve hisses, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. “Can’t even take daddy’s dick inside this tight little snatch of yours without passing out, can you?” Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to pull out, he’s so obsessed with how good your pulsating pussy feels around his dick. But he knows he needs to draw back so he can thrust back in even deeper. He’s only got half his dick inside you now, but he’s determined to get in balls deep before the night is over.
“Wake the fuck up!” he commands, wanting you alert as he defiles you. He slaps your cheek lightly several times, to no avail. He sighs, reaching for the glass of water on his side table. He dips his fingers into the liquid before sprinkling the water over your face. He slaps your cheek again, harder this time, and it turns him on when he hits you, taps into his darkest, most masochistic desires that he keeps under wraps from even himself.
It's only when he pulls out and slams back into you that you suddenly rouse, and it takes you a nanosecond to start screaming again, panicking and flailing underneath him once more. But he’s not having it this time, and quickly plasters his palm over your mouth to silence you.
“Tell me... how does daddy’s dick feel?” He asks you darkly, and he can sense the sadistic smile on his face fuelled by the sheer power he has over you right now. “And I’ll backhand the fuck out of you if you start screaming again, so don’t even try it.”
He removes his hand from your mouth and focuses on pushing more into you, and you pant underneath him, silently sobbing and cringing in pain. And yet you swallow and look up at him bravely.
“I-It hurts!”
“Address me properly.”
“C-Captain, it hurts!”
He narrows his eyes, “No. I asked you how does daddy’s dick feel?”
Your jaw drops open, and it looks like you’ve momentarily forgotten that he’s currently trying to impale you with his huge dick. Your face has the audacity to look mortified, and he wonders how innocent you truly are.
“I can’t… I can’t call you… That’s wrong!” you sputter, looking almost – dare Steve think it – cute. With your wide eyes and indignant gaze and delicious pouty lips in the shape of an o. You seem to blurt out your next words without even thinking: “Y-You’re not my dad!”
Steve barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but he straightens his face almost immediately, reaching up to grip your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Faced with your horror-struck reaction to calling him daddy, he now wants you to address him as that and nothing else.
“Listen, sweetheart. You may have noticed by now that you don’t get much of a say in what happens to you tonight,” he licks up your jawline before his lips brush against your mouth, and he speaks in a whisper, “Now answer my question. And address me properly. Or else.”
You look mortified, scrunching your eyes shut as you breath rapidly in and out. “It… It hurts…daddy.”
Steve feels like he’ll bust a nut right there and then. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on. You’re so small and shy, so tiny and naïve and scared like a baby, and now you’re calling him daddy in that sexy, shaky voice of yours. Goddamn, what a sexy little slut you were. And he’d take care of you tonight, just like any daddy would. Oh… damn right he’d be your daddy tonight. God fucking dammit, you were such a little slut for calling him that!
With a renewed, carnal type of lust, Steve grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. You yelp as he folds you in half like a goddamned pretzel. And the juxtaposition, the visual of your naked body underneath him still in his bloodied suit from the mission – God, it turns him on so much. He presses another kiss to your lips, guiding you into making out with him, wanting you to get obsessed with the idea of kissing him. And then he pulls away, and looks you right in the eye.
“Now you can scream.”
“Huh?”
He slams into you so fucking hard, he’s sure you see stars. And if you were screaming loudly before, it’s nothing compared to now. His entire floor is sound-proofed, but he’s sure the people above and below can hear you. He’s pushed himself far deeper into you, so deep that he senses something rip inside you again. And you’re crying, your little fists pounding against his chest, and yet Steve grits his teeth and mutters, “take it, just fucking take it,” pushing into you bit by bit, inch by inch, so determined to finally get his cock all the way inside you. Pulling out a bit, then pushing in some more while your tight walls try to push him out but he’s so much fucking stronger than you.
A deep rumble emanates past his lips when he finally – fucking finally – bottoms out inside you, and he leans down to press his forehead over yours so he can savour the moment. You were his, completely, irrevocably, undeniably his. You whimper and cry underneath him but it’s music to his ears, your sweet reaction to him popping your cherry, completely snatching away your virginity and possessing it as his forever. He looks down to where you two meet, sees your pussy stretched out completely around his girthy dick, and it makes him want to spontaneously combust.
“You’re mine.” Steve breathes against your lips, and for the second time tonight, the image of you as his little bride flits through his mind. Yes, you’d make a very fitting bride for him. Small and submissive and innocent. And he’d never taken marriage seriously before now but… well, how could he give you up? When he’d taken your virginity and made you his? How could he possibly send you back to wherever you’d come from? The mere thought fills him with vitriolic rage. No. You were to stay with Steve, and you’d be his bride. His wife. His. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”
You don’t argue this time, or even hesitate. He knows he’s broken you when you look up at him, dazed expression on your face. “I’m – I’m yours, daddy.”
Fuck. And you’d gone and called him daddy again without him even having to prompt you. Yes. That more than sealed your fate. You would be his now. His girl. His wife. He’d keep you locked up in his room forever, the same reward that he’d look forward to coming home to after every mission.
“How does it feel to have your baby pussy split open on my cock, sweetheart?” He presses kisses down the nape of your neck, excitement rippling through him at his impulsive decision to make you his wife. The thrill of finding a bride as cute as you makes him want to kiss you even more, and he nips at your neck before reaching your lips, pecking them once, twice, three times. All while you look up at him with glassy, wet eyes and a pitiful expression mixed with something else.
“Please,” you breathe quietly against his lips, and with sapped energy you manage to grab a fistful of his suit, pulling it to get his attention, “Please, make it hurt less. Please.”
Steve smirks, pulling out of you and preparing to slam back in. But he grows distracted by the sight of his cock, completely coated scarlet with your blood. Your virgin blood. The pillow under your ass is stained with drops of dark crimson too, and he’s never seen anything like it. Fuck. He’d really done a number on you, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t even begun fucking you yet.
I deserve this, he thinks to himself.
He slams into you again, the gasp dying in your mouth when he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look down at where you two meet. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth dropping open as you shake your head in disbelief at the sight of your pussy so stretched out to accommodate his girth.
“What’re those conservative parents of yours gonna think when they find out their good little girl just got her pussy ripped apart by a man twice her age?”
You swallow and shake your head, “I–I…”
“Answer me!”
“They’d be d-d-disappointed!” You cry out, ripping your gaze away from the sight of his dick penetrating your formerly virgin pussy, instead looking up at him instead, your mouth looking so deliciously pouty.
Steve smiles wickedly, “It’s a good thing you’re not their little girl anymore, huh? You’re mine now, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”
“Th-They like you! They’re fans of you… They wouldn’t like this at all! OH MY GOD!” You gasp, and he has to hold you down to keep you from sliding upwards from the power of his thrusts. You cry out once more, “W-Was supposed to – ah! – wait till I was married…”
The mention of marriage has Steve imagining you as his little bride once more. He already owned your body, mind and soul – but the marriage certificate would make sure he owned you under the eyes of the law too. His kept woman you’d be, fluttering around his apartment like a bird in a gilded cage. Or maybe he’d move you into one of the suburban properties he owned, where he could come home to you and relieve all his tension and worries. Yes. It would be perfect. He’d make all the arrangements tomorrow…
For now, he focuses back on fucking you silly. Pulling out all the way, he rams his dick straight back into your cunt, and you let out a sound that’s a mix between a squeak and a moan. He looks down at you curiously.
“You like that? You like daddy’s big dick?” He grabs your hands, squeezing them tightly.
“T-Too big!” Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re about to pass out again. “C-Captain, please slow down! H-Hurts so bad!”
Steve bristles. Hadn’t he explicitly told you to call him daddy? After all, he’d be your daddy now. You wouldn’t be your father’s property after tonight. No, you were Steve’s. He was your daddy, and he’d take care of you because you’d soon become his bride. But he wouldn’t have an insolent, insubordinate wife who couldn’t take instructions well. That wouldn’t do at all.
He grunts, letting go of your hands and wrapping his fingers around your throat instead. You squeal in protest but it lands on deaf ears. His other hand presses down over your mouth once more.
“Shut up!” He snaps, “Stop squealing like a little bitch. It hurts but you’re just going to have to take it. And you better start calling me daddy, or else I’ll drag you back downstairs and fuck you in front of everyone.” He only means it as a threat, but he knows by the way your breath hitches that you’re innocent enough to believe him.
He removes his hand from your lips and taps you roughly on your cheek, “Tell me you understand.”
You nod, receiving a harder tap on your cheek and a menacing look.
“I-I understand, daddy, I – oh – oh my!”
He thrusts into you with such force, he knows you’re seeing stars. And it’s subtle, but Steve catches it. He catches the shift in your expression, this unfamiliar spark in your eye as if you don’t know what’s happening with your body. But Steve knows. Your body is finally starting to respond to his cruel ministrations – just like he knew you would. You were an innocent little baby but you were also a horny little slut who was enjoying getting fucked by a man like him.
“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Steve whispers against your lips, imagining the different ways he’d take you for the rest of the night. Of course, you’d probably pass out again once he was done with this first round. But after that? Maybe he’d put you on top of him, bounce you up and down on his cock and get in even deeper that way. Or he’d make you suck his cock, or maybe he’d manhandle you till you were on his face, rubbing that sweet, gorgeous little baby cunt on his –
“I-I don’t understand!” You cry, and he feels you wiggle your hips subtly as if you’re trying to do it without him noticing, “Feels…feels…oh, oh god!” With abandon, your head lolls back and you rut your hips up against his dick, meeting his thrusts. Steve chuckles, a satisfied feeling spreading across his chest.
“All that crying and screaming, just for you to enjoy getting fucked by me,” Steve murmurs, brushing your hair off your face so he can gauge your expression better. You look so pitiful, biting your lip and looking up at him with wet eyes, humping up against his dick and your eyes reflecting the confusion you felt. “But don’t worry, all little girls like you love getting fucked by their daddy. It’s only natural, sweetheart.”
“D-Daddy, please,” you pant, and now your hands come up to grip a fistful of his suit, and he knows that you don’t even understand the pleasure you’re slowly starting to feel. And you’re gripping his cock so tight as he rams in and out of you, building up a steady pace now. He knows he’s found your g-spot and he’s pounding against it, but you have no fucking clue and it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.
“Look at you, humping your baby pussy up against daddy’s dick,” Steve shakes his head as if he’s reprimanding you. He spits down on your face, wanting you even messier. His hand leaves your throat as he shoves two of his fingers past your lips, spreading them open and spitting again. His saliva lands on your tongue, “Swallow it, you nasty fucking slut. I knew I’d make you my little slut before the night was through. I said fucking swallow it. That’s right. Good girl.”
“Ah, ah, ah– tingles… I – daddy! P-Please, I don’t know what’s – AH!”
Your breathless moans and nonsensical garbles are like music to his ears, but nothing compares to the way you clamp down on his cock when you suddenly squirt around it. The way you squeak and clutch him tightly, and he fucks you through your orgasm. Your very first orgasm while getting fucked, and it’s so fucking sexy the way your tight walls flutter around him. God, he could get used to this feeling – buried deep inside your wet, tight snatch every single night from here on out.
“Did daddy make you feel good?” He breathes, hips moving like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your pussy as he continues to fuck you.
You nod timidly, wiped out from your orgasm to say anything else. He smirks, watching your breasts bounce up and down as he fucks the living daylights out of you and you just lie there beneath him and take it. As if a part of you had understood that this was to be your job from here on out – his little fuckdoll, his little prize after God knows how many listless years of saving the world, saving people who he didn’t give a flying fuck about.
He’d won countless medals of honour, rewarding him for his bravery in serving his country, in saving his people. But you were his true prize, with your tight cunt that was his and his only. And how jealous every other man would be! He knew they already envied his physique, his fame, his authority. Now all those assholes would have another reason to envy him – because his little bride was the most innocent, most vulnerable, most beautiful girl they’d ever lay their eyes on. And it would be his bed in which you’d be, night after night, waiting with spread legs for him to fuck you.
Of course, he’d fuck other women if he so wanted to. Steve didn’t believe in love or monogamy. He believed in ownership, though. And he owned you, every part of you from your cunt to your soul. You wouldn’t even look at another man ever again, or else Steve would have you killed. And the thought of you with another man is what incenses him even more.
With a low growl, he pulls out of you. Your eyes shoot open, your mouth pausing mid-moan to look up at him desperately. Your cunt shamelessly humps the air, and he can’t believe what a little harlot you’ve turned into after your first taste of sex. He looks down at his blood-covered dick, grabbing it by the base. He lays his fat cock on your stomach, painting your smooth skin scarlet with your own virginal blood. The sight turns him on even more, and with another growl, he puts your legs down and flips you over on your stomach.
He grabs your ankle, dragging you to the foot of the bed while you squeak in protest and confusion. He gets off the bed, standing up to his full height as you cower beneath him, looking back at him over your shoulder warily, a trail of blood on the sheets from where he’d dragged you.
“Hands and knees,” he orders, “and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.”
This time, you do obey pretty quickly. Mustering up whatever energy you have left, you shakily get on your hands and knees. He grabs your hips just in time, keeping you upright before your body has a chance to collapse. Your legs are shaking and he knows your body can’t take much more. He doesn’t care, because he owns your body and you’ll take what he gives you.
“Nice ass,” he smirks, squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks liberally before giving your ass a hard smack that has your knees buckling. He hoists you back up by your hips, “Thank me for the compliment, sweetheart.”
“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You answer almost at once, and Steve grins wolfishly. He’s broken you. He bets you’d do just about anything to please him now. He bets you’ve forgotten about your life back home, and all your tiny mind can think about now is your daddy and his big cock.
With a grunt, Steve pistons his fat cock inside you once more. And god, from this angle, with your gorgeous, perky ass right in his fucking face, he feels like he’s going to blow his load any second. You start moaning again, rocking your hips backwards, garbling “please” and “daddy” and other nonsense. Your ass bounces with each thrust, and Steve can’t help but slap it brutally hard, over and over again, wanting you even more bruised and bloody than you already are right now.
“You like it rough, don’t you?” he asks, slapping and pinching your ass while he watches his dick disappear inside your sexy cunt over and over again, “you tried to act all innocent and cute, telling me you had fucking homework to do tonight, fuck!” He lifts your hips up off the bed to get a better angle, till he’s holding your entire lower body up in the air. It gives him better leverage, since he’s so tall, and he fucks you on his dick like you were nothing more than a fleshlight.
“I – ah, daddy! – I d-do have h-h-homework – OH MY GOD!”
It just gets Steve even harder, hearing you be so innocent despite being held up and fucked like a dog. You’ve got your elbows propped on the mattress to keep you up, your legs flailing helplessly as he holds your hips in the air, ramming you repeatedly with his fat cock till he knows you’re seeing stars.
“Forget about your fucking homework from now on,” he spits out, grabbing your ass lewdly and jiggling it, fascinated by how it bounces so cutely. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that college of yours.”
“Wh-What?”
He doesn’t answer, and the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, the carnal sound of Steve staking his claim on you. With all his other rewards, he’d be done in about fifteen minutes. You, he’d have you all night if he could. Well, he can – he’s built like a fucking tank with stamina for days. You, on the other hand, keep looking like you’re going to pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s done some type of damage to your pussy. He’d have SHIELD’s physician check you tomorrow.
He throws you back down on the bed, not giving you a chance to even catch your breath before he’s on top of you, flipping you on your back and urgently pressing his lips to yours. Much to his smugness, this time you respond as if it’s muscle memory, kissing him back as best as you can. And for a person who’s just learnt how to kiss, you sure were extremely desperate for it. You keep kissing him even when he enters back into you for the third time, fucking you on your back and this time you wrap your arms and legs around him like a goddamned koala bear, your kisses growing more fervent till Steve pulls away and chuckles against your lips.
“You like kissing me?” He finds himself asking you, holding you in place beneath him as he fucks you hard, but his one hand comes up to grip your chin so you don’t look away, “be honest, baby. You like kissing daddy?”
Your eyes widen in fear at the direct question, and he watches the panic on your face. But then your features contort in pleasure as he repeatedly hits that spot deep inside you, and you nod desperately, surging up to kiss him again but he pushes you back down.
“Use your words.”
“Ah, y-yes, I do, okay!? I like it! P-Please!”
You start doing that thing again, humping pathetically up into him as if to meet his thrusts. And he wonders if you realise how easy he’s truly going on you. He reckons he’s using about five percent of his power right now as he rams into you repeatedly. Any more than that and he’s sure he’d shatter your pelvis or cause permanent damage.
“Kiss me, then.” Steve says, not knowing why he sounds so gentle. He probably had something stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t dwell over it because, like a good little girl, you obey him. Your needy lips, your desperate tongue poking against his in a perfect kiss. He groans into your mouth, his thrusts going sloppy as your cunt squeezes around him because you’re so turned on by him kissing you.
“Am I… A-Am I doing this right, daddy?” You breathe, batting those fucking sexy, innocent eyes up at him.
Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”
You’re more than fine, of course – but he doesn’t need you knowing that. He needs you to be as insecure as possible. It made you even hotter, the look of self-doubt that you have on your face right now. He’s violated your body, he’s still violating your body, and yet all you seem to be focusing on is the fact that he thinks your kissing is “fine.” Not good, not great… but fine.
You kiss him once more, even more desperately this time, as if you’re trying to prove something. Steve relishes how easy it is to play with your mind, how naïve you are. How much he’ll enjoy playing with you when he makes you his wife. He continues pistoning his dick inside you as he lets his mind wander.
All the others would be so fucking jealous of him – even Bucky, who had a girl already but Bucky’s girl was nothing compared to you. He’d drag you around the whole building, the whole headquarters, the whole compound, showing you off like a shiny, new toy. That’s what you were – his very own toy.
He’d take you into meetings with him, make you sit on his lap and play with you in front of everyone. And he’d chop the dick off of anyone who looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He’d make you wear pretty dresses, make you look like a cute little housewife, train you to answer his every command. Fuck yeah, you’d be his reward. He deserved you, after all he had sacrificed for his country, for the world.
“D-Daddy, I’m feelin- tingly again!” you moan, your words shaky from how hard he’s fucking into you. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist and in return he clutches you harder, determined to make you squirt again before he had his own release.
“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”
“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”
He swats your clit harshly, making you howl in what he knows is pleasure. His dick hammers in and out of you unforgivingly, and you’re such a fucking slut, humping up against him, crying for your release. And it’s such a far cry from how much you were resisting him at first, he can’t believe what a little slut he’s reduced you to in such little time.
“Stupid girl, can’t even talk anymore, can you?” he mocks, pinching your clit meanly, bullying it as he rubs it fiercely. Till you’re thrashing underneath him, so desperate to cum that you don’t even care that your body is betraying you. “Tell me you’re a stupid little girl!”
“Oh fuck! I’m a – a – a stupid little girl!”
He can see the remnants of your tears stained to your cheeks, and he feels a carnal level of possession within him. With a growl, he lewdly licks the side of your face, claiming his territory, tasting your salty tears. Roughly, he tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side and biting down on your neck. So hard that he draws blood, and then he licks that up too. God, what a little slut you were – a slut disguised as an angel and you were making him act like a motherfucking animal.
And now the side of your neck sported his bite mark, your porcelain perfect skin marred by his branding of you. And this was just the beginning – Steve already knows that he plans to mark you in many different ways. Tomorrow, he’d get one of the agents to bring over a tattoo artist to tattoo his initials somewhere on your body. Maybe right above your baby cunt, just so you would always remember who you belonged to. He smirks, and wonders what your conservative parents would think of that.
“What would your parents think now, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it over his shoulder for a better angle. And you’re so pliable, so easily going along with whatever he’s doing to you like a perfect little doll. “What would they think of their perfect little girl getting fucked by Captain America like it’s her fucking job?”
You panic, as if the mention of your parents is a reminder of how wrong this all is for you – not that Steve gives a fuck. Biting your lip to keep from moaning at all the sensations you’re feeling, you shake your head. Only for him to slap you not so lightly on the cheek.
“Answer me, baby girl.”
“They’d – ah – they’d hate this, they’d be upset, they’d – OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream out all of a sudden, your pussy walls gripping him like a vice, “O-Oh, I’m feelin– I gotta–”
“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.
But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. Babies like you couldn’t hold orgasms for shit. And you cum, crying for him and gripping him tightly, and Steve feels like he’s going to lose it with how sexy it feels. It feels like your cunt is trying to swallow him up, crying for his seed as it pulsates around his fat cock that continues to move in and out.
“Bad girl,” Steve chastises, giving you another not-so-gentle slap on the cheek because you look like you’re about to faint again. He jostles you with the forces of his dick, still ramming in and out of you at lightning speed. “You do things without permission a lot at home?”
You have the audacity to, despite everything, look indignant: “N-No, never, I never–”
“Then what made you think you could cum without your daddy’s permission?”
Your lips purse as if you’re about to cry, and you blink up at him so goddamned innocent. Steve’s honestly surprised he’s still going, surprised he hasn’t busted a fucking nut with how goddamned cute and sexy you are.
“I’m…I’m sorry, I couldn’t – ah! – I had to, I–I–”
“Give me another one,” he orders you darkly.
“Wh-What–”
“You heard me. Cum for daddy again. Since you like doing it so much.”
Frantically, you shake your head, “C-Can’t! Too much, daddy, it’s too much– O-O-HHH GOD!”
He reaches down to strum your clit before a dark thought crosses his mind. His fingers slip lower, gathering the wetness of your pussy along the way. Lower, between the cleft of your ass cheeks. He can’t resist giving one of your perky cheeks a hard smack, before going straight for your puckered hole. He circles it with his thumb and your body stiffens in shock and horror.
“N-No, daddy, no please, that’s wrong, that’s–”
Steve shoves his finger in your tight, virgin asshole. He hadn’t been planning on defiling that third hole tonight, but oh well. And it’s even tighter than your pussy, and you clench against his digit like a fucking whore because he knows you like it. You like your daddy’s finger up there. His fucked up little wife-to-be… God, you were so perfect for him.
With his fat cock, Steve fucks your pussy and at the same time, his huge finger fucks your tiny ass. Pumping in and out of your tiny hole while you cry and yet once more you slowly begin humping up against him. As if the depravity of it all turned you on even more – which he knew it did.
Your hand tugs at his bicep, making him shift his gaze back up to you.
“It’s happening again, daddy, it’s– d-don’t stop, I–”
Steve licks his lips, “Say you’ll marry me.”
Your eyes widen the most they have all night, “Wh-What?!”
“Say it!” He orders, “Say it or else I’ll fucking stop and leave you hanging. Say you’ll marry me, be my wife and do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”
“N-No, I–”
He stills his hips, only for you to shake your head and grip his arm harder in desperation, humping up against him hopelessly.
“Say it. Say you’re daddy’s little bride. Fucking say it.”
“I-I’m daddy’s little bride, okay? I’ll do it, daddy, I’ll marry you, I – OH FUCK, PLEASE – I’ll do whatever you say, I, just please, I–” You’ve lost it, completely lost it as new tears swell from your eyes and you beg him as if you have no shame at all. And Steve feels all the pride and smugness in the world as he resumes fucking you, knowing he won’t last any longer after this carnal display of submission from you.
“Cum.” He orders you, “right now, sweetheart, do what I say and cum for daddy.”
You squirt so violently around his cock, that your whole body shakes and shudders, you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure. Toes curled and tears streaking your face, you hold him so tightly that he’s surprised by your strength, and you keep moaning his name, you keep moaning “daddy” over and over again as if he got his agents to reprogramme your brain and it’s all you know how to say now.
“That’s right, baby girl,” he mutters lowly, “squeeze that pretty little princess cunt around daddy’s dick. You’re such a good fucking girl.”
“Th-Thank you, daddy,” your meek response, barely audible by how quietly you say it, is not something he expected, and it goes straight to his dick. Not you, not his little bride, thanking him for deflowering you in the most brutal way possible? Fuck, he’d broken you. You’d be licking the palm of his hand by tomorrow; he just knew it.
The thought makes him shudder, his dick twitches and then he unloads inside you. Spurt after spurt unloaded straight into your pussy, and it’s such a satisfying feeling, pumping you full of his seed. Filling you the fuck up, and he’s glad he didn’t use the fucking condom. And there’s so much of his cum, because of the serum of course, so much that it doesn’t even fit inside you. It pours out of you and you watch with wide eyes before letting out a soft cry.
“I’m not… I’m not protected, I don’t take birth control, I–I…” Your voice trails off, too weak to voice any more protestations as Steve continues to empty himself inside you, your words having no effect on him whatsoever.
“Good. You’d be lucky to carry my child.” Steve informs you, his cock already thickening again at the thought of him knocking you up. He’d never had an interest in having children before now, but fucking a whole family into you seems like the hottest fucking thing he could do right now. Captain America: the family man. It made sense for his image.
Your protests fall on deaf ears, and he remains inside you, till he’s finally emptied out and your poor, raw pussy is overflowing with his cum. But he stays on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he watches you underneath him. Your chest rising and falling as you breathe, and you’re so pretty, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again. Once, twice, three times. He frowns when you don’t kiss him back, drawing back to take another look at you.
Your eyes have fluttered shut. Your body couldn’t take it. You’ve passed out once more.
Steve smirks, feeling himself hardening up again inside you. He had absolutely no qualms with fucking you back to consciousness again.
***
It’s gone past midnight when Steve hears a knock on his door. He calls for them to come in, and two SHIELD agents appear in his doorway. The same two who always come to take away his rewards after he’s done with them.
The female agent’s jaw twitches at the sight. Steve on the bed, having changed and washed up with a quick shower. And you’re next to him, passed out on the bloodied sheets. Steve reckons you look beautiful, like you’re sleeping.
“Would you like for us to take her away, Captain?” The male agent asks.
“No. She will stay with me. Contact her family and let them know, make them pack a bag for her and make sure it arrives here by tomorrow.”
The male agent nods, but the female – it’s always the damned females, Steve scorns – she hesitates.
“Captain, she looks like she’s in bad shape. Maybe–”
“That will be all.” Steve interrupts, “you can leave now.”
They do, and Steve turns his attentions back to you – his little girl, as you begin to stir.
“Shhh,” he orders, when you open your mouth to speak. Your eyes look bleary, you look confused, wondering whether all this was a dream or not. Steve’s in no mood to indulge you, and yet he presses his thumb past your lips. And fuck, it goes straight to his dick when you readily accept it, sucking his thumb like a baby as you blink up at him.
His beautiful, broken little bride.
“Go back to sleep.” Steve tells you, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us. You need all the rest you can get.”
Yes, tomorrow. When he’d parade you around his teammates as Captain America’s little bride. It would be perfect. His forever reward.
Tony had his alcohol, Sam had his parties, Bruce had his research and Bucky had some girl. But Steve? Steve had drawn the best cards out of all of them. Because he had you. Your submission, your devotion. You.
He deserved this.
AKFSLA THE END!! Steve's inner monologue was unhinged af. I know! Please, please let me know what you think!!! It would mean the world, please do reblog and leave feedback!!! I have been writing this for around two weeks and would love to know what you think!!! As usual, thanks so much for reading my work and supporting me!!! I love you guys!! SORRY IF IT SUCKED ASDAGNL.
ALSO please forgive me if i got anything wrong about shield or hydra or any of that. like i literally am not an expert asnglagl okaybye!!!
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#chris evans#dark steve rogers#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fanfiction#chris evans fanfiction
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bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.
i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!
dividers by @cafekitsune!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?'
wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.
although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.
"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"
"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.
"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."
you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.
but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.
"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"
wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.
the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.
although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.
after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.
considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.
he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.
"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.
"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"
you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.
your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.
"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"
"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"
before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."
and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."
you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.
you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.
it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.
"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"
"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."
"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"
friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.
your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.
with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.
your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.
"ah, fuck."
you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.
"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"
you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"
your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.
"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"
"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"
"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."
"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."
"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."
"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."
oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.
"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."
you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.
"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."
"bucky..."
"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."
"even if i ask for your arm?"
he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"
"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.
"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."
his girl. you loved hearing that.
"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.
"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"
"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."
"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."
"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.
"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"
you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"
he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."
your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.
"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."
bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"
you smiled. "like the old times."
in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.
"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.
"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."
"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.
"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."
bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.
and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.
a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.
if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky x reader#mcu#marvel#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction
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It starts out simple. Eddie notices that Steve sometimes spaces out, but no one really pays him much attention. Usually, he’ll try to enter back into the conversation, and he’ll earn a few eye rolls when he has no idea what anyone’s talking about.
But what really haunts Eddie is the way Steve will sometimes be zoned out with his jaw and fists clenched, looking as if he’s reliving the worst of the upside down. He’ll gradually come out of it, and sometimes Robin will nudge him and quietly whisper if he’s okay, but he just shakes it off.
It’s like he has to appear fine in front of everyone, but Eddie gets it. He’s not sure what the group would do if Steve fell apart.
But a few times, he looks like he’s on the verge of it.
One time, he’s far away enough from everyone that Eddie is able to inconspicuously make his way to the former jock and nudge him. “Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie asks.
Steve startles and Eddie watches as the tension in him increases then slowly releases until he appears “normal.”
Eddie grabs his wallet and sifts through it before finally finding what he wants. A single dull penny.
He hands it to Steve who takes it and starts fiddling with it. He glances back at everyone else to make sure they’re out of earshot before he answers, “I’m just scared that maybe this Vecna creep will return, you know? It’s happened four times by now. How do we know it’s over?”
Eddie takes a deep breath. He’s gone through the same thought process of wondering if he’ll be back. If life will return to hell again. But he can’t imagine what it’s been like for Steve whose done it multiple times.
But he’s been able to logic his way out of his anxiety before. “Well, we have Will who has the whole Spidey-sense thing going on, so we’ll know if he’s back but… remember what El said. She felt it. Like it was finished this time. For good.”
Steve just nods and Eddie sees the tiniest shred of anxiety slip away. “Plus,” Eddie continues, “Can’t let our hero boy do all the worrying or his strength might deplete. How about I do all the worrying and standing guard tonight, huh?”
Steve glances over at him for a second, and Eddie almost thinks he’s going to laugh him off or something. Instead, he lets out a shaky sigh, puts his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, and squeezes. “Thanks, man.”
Eddie watches as Steve pockets the penny and actually heads toward the group with a smile on his face. He smiles and looks around. Time to stand guard.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie almost forgets about it, but it’s probably the whole not-getting-any-sleep-because-he-keeps-having-nightmares thing. It’s been a particularly bad week when he finds himself in the Harrington home with all the gremlins and other adults. He wants to be all bigger than life / life of the party, but his energy is gone.
He sits at the kitchen island on a barstool with his head in his hands, staring at the granite slab of the countertop when a hand and something slides into his view.
The hand pulls back and Eddie gets sight of a penny. What the-?
He looks up to see Steve sitting next to him with a small smile on his face. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asks.
Eddie stares at him and feels his heart flutter but he wills that to die down a bit. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. Just…” he glances off to see if anyone else is in earshot before continuing, “I keep getting these damn nightmares. Sometimes about… Chrissy… sometimes about random stressful shit, but they just won’t stop. It’s like although Vecna’s gone, he’s always here.”
Steve’s gaze has turned sympathetic as he runs a hand through his hair and looks around before lowering his voice. “I’ve been through the same thing, but I’ve found that it’s easier getting through the night with other people. Don’t tell anyone, but I snuck into Robin’s room for weeks after the whole Russian torture thing. But hey, if you want to crash here with me tonight, I’d be more than happy to have you.” Steve glances away from Eddie and runs a hand through his hair again as a faint blush appears on his cheeks. “Hell, you’d be helping me out too, man.”
Eddie considers it and immediately feels a wave of relief flood through him at the thought. He pockets the penny and squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “That’d be great. Thank you. Really,” Eddie says with a smile and eases himself off the barstool.
He hears Dustin raising his voice in the other room and Eddie says to Steve, “Time to ware out the children.”
Steve just laughs and joins him, but Eddie sees another tiny piece of tension leave his body.
-:-:-:-:-:-
It slowly becomes their thing. Eddie finds himself keeping pennies on himself at all times just in case, but by some strange fate, him and Steve always use that same penny.
Sometimes it pressed into Eddie’s palm, Eddie once throws it at Steve yelling, “catch!”, and sometimes it just appears in one of their vision.
The thoughts range from stupid things like Steve trying to remember if he turned off the oven to Eddie’s Dnd campaign to the overwhelming trauma from the Upside Down seeping into their lives.
Along with the penny becoming a regular thing, Eddie sleeping in Steve’s bed becomes a regular thing too. At first, it’s a bit awkward as they try to find out how much space each of them needs, what side of the bed they prefer, what they’re like in the mornings, and overall just how to be around each other when sharing a bed.
It shifts when one night, Eddie notices Steve staring at the ceiling wide awake. Eddie leans over the side of the bed where his pants are and digs into his pocket to retrieve the penny which he gently lays on Steve’s chest.
Steve glances down and carefully picks it up, twirling it as Eddie watches the coin slightly glint in the moonlight. There’s a deep breath and then Steve is saying, “I was just thinking about what if we… I don’t know. Like… held each other? Or rather, I was thinking that it would be nice to be held.”
Steve sets the penny down on the nightstand which indicates the end of his thoughts but he doesn’t dare turn to face Eddie. But Eddie is already scooting closer to press his body against Steve who instantly curls into Eddie’s embrace holding him as if he’ll escape if he tries to let go. But Eddie would never escape.
And every night they hold each other close with no questions asked and no penny needed.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie’s feelings for Steve grow. He knows they’ve been there since the beginning, but with the whole penny thing, it’s like he has the key to all of Steve’s deepest thoughts and desires. He knows that Steve has access to his as well and is just thankful that Steve’s never given him the penny when Eddie’s been staring at him. He knows he can’t lie to Steve, and it may be dumb, but he especially can’t lie with that penny in sight.
So, he says nothing. He keeps holding Steve through the night, comforting him if he’s awoken from a particularly bad nightmare, but usually just laying there willing himself to stay awake as long as he can so he can bask in the sensation of holding Steve Harrington.
Then, one morning as Steve makes them breakfast, Eddie looks at him for a little too long, wondering how he’s been able to live his life without him when that penny is slid into his sight.
Eddie blinks down at it and swallows as Steve looks at him. “You,” Eddie blurts out, “I was just thinking about you.”
Eddie leaves the penny on the table because he knows that’s not enough of his thoughts. Steve turns back to scrape the eggs out of the pan onto a plate and put some butter on their toast before he turns back to Eddie. He doesn’t pry, but through the breakfast the penny stays in sight.
Eddie’s plate is clear when he finally fully answers, “I was just thinking about how much better my life has been since you’ve come into it, and… thank you.” He feels blood rise to his cheeks and finds Steve with a similar blush.
“I was thinking the same about you,” Steve responds and takes their plates to clean them before Eddie can respond.
He knows he’s falling in love with him.
-:-:-:-:-:-
It’s a few mornings later, and Eddie feels someone watching him. It doesn’t feel creepy or bad because he can feel the way that Steve has shifted to lean over him. Eddie opens his eyes slowly and takes in the view of Steve staring down at him with a small smile on his face. Eddie rolls towards his side of the bed, where his clothes are piled up and grabs the penny before rolling back to Steve.
He gently presses it into Steve’s hand who continues to stare down at him with a look in his eyes that Eddie can only assume is reflected in his own gaze.
Steve takes a deep breath and whispers, “I was just thinking that I might be in love with you.”
Eddie’s heart stutters, and he feels Steve’s hand shift to press the penny into his. Eddie smiles and replies, “I think I might be in love with you too.”
Steve smiles all wide and bright in the way that makes Eddie feel like he’s the luckiest person in the world to be able to see it. Then, Steve’s hand is intertwining with Eddie’s and as the penny presses into their palms, they both lean in and kiss, only breaking away when they both break into wide smiles and begin laughing as all the tension drains from them.
Years later, Eddie gets the penny turned into a ring and when he gets down on one knee, all he asks is, “Penny for your thoughts?”
AO3 Link (for @humanityinahandbag <3)
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Superbat but Clark knows Bruce is Batman, and Bruce has no fucking clue Clark is Superman.
How he finds out? First time Clark and Bruce meet he sees multiple bat styled gadgets on under his 3 piece suit, he also has multiple weapons on him so Clark is like “super villain or Batman?” The next time Clark meets Batman he recognizes the heartbeat and does a soft ‘Ah.’ In realization (Batman asks only for Clark to wave his question off)
How they get together? Clark knows Bruce as both Bruce Wayne and Batman so he has inside knowledge of the intelligence he holds. Bruce accidentally lets slip a few things about himself (things he hides deep inside for no one else to know) and is pleasantly surprised that Clark Kent, a reporter who could’ve profited greatly off of that information didn’t do a single thing. They meet a few more times, both during and outside of their obligations as who they are perceived to be. Lois starts asking Clark if he’s going out with Bruce, if they’re a thing. And Clark honestly doesn’t know how to answer that question until Bruce randomly kissed him when they’re alone at a gala.
About a year into their relationship is when Bruce realizes Clark knows. He comes home late from a rough patrol, not hospitalization worthy but he’ll still need some help from Alfred before he tries leaving the cave. When he arrives in the cave, he can already see the medbay set up for his arrival. He basically rips his mask off as he faces away from the entrance to the cave and just starts taking off his suit. When he hears footsteps coming from behind them, he assumes it’s Alfred.
“I’m not interested in an ultimatum from you tonight, Alfred.”
“Good thing I’m not Alfred.”
Bruce almost shits himself as he immediately jumps up and turns to face his lovely boyfriend Clark, who isn’t even looking at Bruce. He’s putting on gloves whilst getting gauze ready.
“Clark-“
“Sit down, Bruce.”
Slowly but surely, Bruce relaxes back into the cot with Clark cleaning his wounds behind him. They don’t talk about it, Bruce tries to tell himself it was a dream but realizes he can’t when the next night Clark looks at across the dinner table and tells him flat out that he’s not going on patrol tonight and if he tries Clark will tie him to the bed. Bruce doesn’t go on patrol.
This Superbat idea is just soooooo fun and interesting to me, think of the betrayal Bruce will feel when he finds out about Superman??? Anyone else like Hurt/Comfort over here?

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the president's wife
what happens when some rebels try and get back at coryo >:-)
a/n: angst angst angst!!, read the prologue (?) here
content warning(s): mentions of death, kidnapping, kind of canon level violence???
“Are you almost ready, my love?” Coriolanus asked, walking into the bedroom as he finished closing the cuff links on his wrists.
You nodded, walking out of the closet with a pristine pair of black stilettos in your hand, red bottoms causing a grin to spread across your husband’s face.
“Going for the vintage heels tonight?”
“Only for the most special of occasions.” You smiled, taking his hand as you stepped into the shoes. “Are you ready for your party, President Snow?”
Coriolanus’ eyes lit up when you called him that, following you out into the foyer. “More ready for the after party with you.”
You lightly slapped him on the chest, looking up at his hair. “I do wish you grew your curls out again. That’s one more thing that District 12 took from me.”
Coriolanus sighed, running a hand through his blonde locks. He had decided to keep the shorter hair from his first days back from his Peacekeeping stint, stating it made him look more professional.
“Yes, but it’s less to grab onto.” You had replied when he first brought the idea up to you. That alone almost made him grow the curls back out, but once you two discovered that it was even more fun with a buzz on the sides, the style stayed.
“Did you ever hear back from Tigris?” You asked, stepping into the black town car that was going to take you to the party.
Coriolanus had extended an invitation to his cousin to the inauguration party, but she was out in District Four with Fabricia, not due back in the Capitol for another couple days.
“She said she would try and make the earliest train back, but I haven’t heard if she’s made it or not.”
You hummed, looking out the windows as the Capitol citizens made their way to the Citadel, hoping to get a glimpse of the new First Couple. Little did they know, said couple was riding alongside them.
Coriolanus looked you up and down, hand moving to your thigh and giving it a squeeze. “You okay?”
“I am, just nervous. You know I don’t like crowds.” You had a dislike for large crowds ever since you were a young girl, having seen your father shot by rebels during what was supposed to be a routine drill.
“After tonight, you’ll not have to worry about large crowds.” Coriolanus promised you, ready to give you anything and everything under the sun.
Smiling at him, you leaned over to press a kiss to his lips, making sure the red lipstick you wore wasn’t noticeable. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Coriolanus whispered, car coming to a stop outside the front entrance of the Citadel.
-----
You had been introduced to dozens and dozens of people, you weren’t sure you even remembered who anyone was by the time you and Coriolanus were able to have a moment of peace.
There had been endless congratulations to the new President and First Lady, with handshakes and some hugs following.
Coriolanus took a sip of the posca in front of him, gesturing to the bar. “Why don’t you go ask for some champagne, I made sure they had some on order for tonight for you.”
A man after your own heart, you squeezed his hand before heading over to the bar, smiling at the bartender. “Champagne, please.”
“Ah, you’re the reason we have cases in the back.” The bartender smiled, popping the cork on a fresh bottle.
You smiled, thanking the man for the glass of bubbly. “Was champagne not a common drink with the last president?”
“No, his party-goers and visitors often went for posca and morphling over anything else.” The bartender, Gus, you read on his nametag, continued to pour drinks while talking to you. “But it seems like you and President Snow will have your fair share of pocsa and champagne, I presume?’
“Not really, Coryo doesn’t really drink unless it’s a social event.” You spoke, watching as Coriolanus was pulled into a conversation with some other politicans. “What else do you-”
You froze when you felt the telltale pressure of a gun barrel to your side.
“Move, speak, do anything to alert anyone and I’ll shoot.”
Swallowing, you looked over at Gus, who simply looked at your predicament and froze, as well, half-dry whiskey glass in his hands.
“Good.” You braved a look at the voice talking, seeing an unfamiliar man with sun damage on his face. If you had to take a stab at it, you’d guess he’s from District 11. “You’re going to follow me out the back, casually. As to not alert that husband of yours.”
“The president. You mean the president of Panem.” You whispered, regretting it as you felt the gun push harder into your side.
“Shut up.”
You braved one last look at Gus, who was about to speak when a gunshot rang out, your eyes growing wide as you saw blood stain his white shirt.
-----
Coriolanus was mid-sentence with some politicians trying to get money for District Four when he heard an all-too-familiar sound hit his ears.
People ducked for cover, screams were let out, and several Peacekeepers rushed over to Coriolanus to escort him out of the room.
He looked at the bar, heart racing when he saw you weren’t there. “Where’s my wife?” He asked, head swiveling to look around. “Did you see where she went?”
“Sir, there’s still a threat, we’ve got to move.” A Peacekeeper said, urging Coriolanus out of the room.
Unable to fight back against the increasing-number of Peacekeepers, Coriolanus was ushered into a saferoom of sorts, though nothing felt safe without you next to him.
“What the fuck happened? Where is my wife?” Coriolanus demanded, this was not how he predicted he’d be spending his first night as President.
One brave Peacekeeper spoke up. “We’re unsure of her location at the moment but-”
“What do you mean you’re unsure of her location? You better find her or your family will be wondering where you are in the morning.” Coriolanus threatened, eyes dark with rage and terror.
Peacekeepers raced out of the room, and Coriolanus collapsed into one of the seats along the wall, head falling into his hands.
He was going to lose you before you two even had a chance to live.
Heart hammering in his chest, he shot up when he heard the door open, Peacekeepers walking into the room. “There’s a bartender in the infirmary, Sir. He’s asking to speak to you.”
“Why would I-”
“He said he saw who took your wife.”
Coriolanus said no more, instead following the Peacekeepers down to the infirmary, trying to get the uneasy feeling out of his system.
Gus, who had miraculously survived a shot to the stomach, wasn’t really expecting the Peacekeepers to bring him President Snow, but he watched as the blonde followed two men into the room.
“Mr. President, I- I think some rebels broke into the party. They didn’t look Capitol, and I believe I saw one of them had a gun.”
Coriolanus immediately dismissed the Peacekeepers from the room, following them to the door and closing it.
He spun and looked at Gus, who was shaking a like a leaf. “You’re going to tell me everything you saw and heard up until they shot you. You’re going to help me find my wife, and I promise you, you will not have to worry about working again.”
Gus nodded, swallowing his nerves. “She- she was asking about what other drinks we had behind the bar. These two guys came up and I thought they were just guests, some past presidents had invited people from the Districts, I thought that’s what they were.”
Coriolanus felt his blood pressure rising by the second but urged Gus to continue.
“I didn’t know what they were going to do until Y/N stopped talking, and when I looked up I saw the run rammed into her side. I think- I think they went out the back exit.”
Coriolanus thanked Gus before darting out the door, leaving the Peacekeepers running after him.
-----
You looked around the dingy room, the only light coming from an oil lamp in the corner. “Where the hell am I?”
“Oh, she lives.”
You turned to try and get a look at the men who abducted you, though it was hard to make out any features in the dim light. “Where am I?”
“Don’t worry about that.”
Swallowing, you took a deep breath, crying out when you tried to stand. You looked down, seeing blood dripping from a large gash on your leg.
“Oh, yeah you sliced your leg when you fell.” The man nodded to the rather sharp-looking scythe to the side of you.
The door opened, and your head snapped up to see two more men walking into the room, one of them dropping their jaw when they said you. “The President’s wife?! You’ve just signed our death certificates!”
Feeling a dull ache in your head, you watched as the man who presumably kidnapped you from the party held his hands up, lazy smile on his face.
“Not a worry, once Snow sees we have his wife, he’ll pay anything to get her back. We’ll be able to start harvesting faster than ever.”
“You are from 11, what do you want with me?” You asked, ignoring the throbbing pain in your leg.
“Oh, smart little bitch you are.” The main ringleader smiled at you, a handful of teeth missing.
“You see, when your dear little husband signed his name on the last bill passed in the Capitol, he took away a third of our pay. For what? Some hospital?”
You remained silent. Coriolanus had signed onto a bill that would help women’s health, a step in the direction of the fertility research he wanted to fund.
“There’s little we can do with what we made before, Mrs. Snow.” The man sneered, making a face when he said your name. “Now? We’re already starving out there. We had to do something to make him notice.”
“But abducting his wife?!” The most reasonable out of the three asked, arm shooting out to point at you. “Couldn’t, I don’t know? Blow something up?”
The men started arguing with each other, taking their attention off of you.
You took their quarrel as a chance to limp towards the door, not getting far from the immense pain you felt radiate from your leg. It was more than just a cut, you were sure of it.
-----
Coriolanus looked out the window, sun peaking over the mountains. He still had no idea where you were, and with each passing hour he feared for your life more.
“Coryo!” Tigris ran over to her cousin, enveloping him in a hug. “I came as soon as I got off the train, what happened?”
“Rebels, they have Y/N.” Coriolanus rasped, and Tigris’ frown deepened as she saw how worked up her cousin was. His hair was a mess from tugging at it, bags under his bloodshot eyes, once-pristine shirt was now wrinkled. “I have Peacekeepers out in all the Districts, the Capitol is being combed through.”
“They’ll find her, Coryo. They will.” Tigris said, hugging her cousin again. “They’re checking each train car as they come into the station, they’ll find her.”
Coriolanus nodded, looking back out over the skyline of the Capitol, knowing you were out there somewhere.
-break-
You were on a train, you heard the squeaking of the brakes as it came to a stop. “Where are we going?” You asked, tending to your now sore wrist, a result of stumbling off balance when you tried once again to walk on your busted leg.
“They’re searching all the cars. They’re going to find us.”
The ringleader didn’t think this far ahead, not planning on shooting Gus at the bar when he snuck into the party. Not planning on alerting the Peacekeepers as soon as he did.
“Fuck, fuck, uh, we have to run.”
You heard the knocking on the door, before the train car’s rusty door was slid open by Peacekeepers, who immediately fired their guns at the three rebels.
“Alert President Snow, we found his wife.”
You started to cry, wanting nothing more than to see Coriolanus after the last few hours.
-break-
Coriolanus ran through the halls of the hospital, Tigris hot on his heels.
“Where is she?!” He yelled, eyes frantic.
“Last door on your left, Mr. President.” The commanding Peacekeeper saluted the young man, nodding at Tigris as she followed her cousin.
You looked up from the long line of stitches on your leg when you heard quick footsteps growing nearer, before you saw an all-too-familiar head of blonde hair come into view.
“Coryo,” you sighed, struggling to sit up, face contorting in pain.
“My love, take it easy.” Coriolanus rushed over to your side, pulling you into his arms. “I’m here, it’s okay, you’re safe.”
You cried into your husband’s shoulder, dam finally breaking. “I- I was so s-scared, they had guns and- and I know that guns inherently aren’t that scary. But, Coryo, they- they were going to make you pay ransom!”
“I would’ve, I would’ve paid anything to get you back to me.” Coriolanus mumbled, forehead pressing against yours. “You’re the most important thing in my life.”
Tigris cleared her throat, and you looked behind Coriolanus to see the older Snow. “You’re back!”
“I’m back, but we’re going to catch up later. You need to rest, and you need to sleep.” She said, latter half of her statement aimed at her younger cousin.
You smiled at her, watching as she left the room and closed the door once more. “I’m sorry I ruined the party, Coryo.”
Coriolanus made a noise in the back of his throat. “You didn’t ruin it, gorgeous. Those rebels did, though I heard they were already taken care of.”
Nodding, you weren’t sure if you’d ever get the image of their dead bodies out of your head. “What are you going to do to their families?” You asked quietly, knowing vengeance was in store for them.
Shaking his head, Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over that, just focus on your health.”
-----
a/n: i love angst with a fluffy ending, it is my favorite. also i told you titles are my kryptonite i cannot do them right
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coryo snow#hunger games tbosas#hunger games imagine#hunger games x reader#young coriolanus snow
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old dogs don't change
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: weeks after sleeping together, your no-strings-attached agreement goes up in flames when joel goes on a date with another woman. you make sure that never happens again. (sequel to keep it on the low)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, ex-boyfriend!joel, jackson era, tlou 2 jesse appearance, age gap, hurt, angst, smut, unprotected piv, post-breakup sex, rough sex, public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), exhibitionism, possessive behavior, jealousy, alcohol use, briefly dating other people
word count: 10.6k
You have no idea who she is, but you bet she’s a total bitch. Is that mean? Maybe. Do you give a shit? Nope.
To be fair, you’d probably say that about anyone Joel started dating after you, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be true. Sure, you've never actually talked to her…or seen her before in your entire life, but that’s beside the point. She’s cute and bubbly, and everything you’re not, and that’s the point.
It’s honestly a little comical how different the two of you are, and you can’t help but wonder if Tommy did that on purpose. You know he was the one who set them up. Everyone in the dining hall was talking about it this morning. The latest, hottest piece of gossip, bouncing from table to table like a cruel game of telephone.
He probably thinks he’s protecting his big brother, but you think he needs to mind his own fucking business. It’s not like he knows anything about your relationship, not really. Well. It’s not your relationship anymore, is it? And Tommy, along with everyone else in this town, blames you for that.
Poor Joel, dumped by the biggest bitch in Jackson, who took advantage of his kindness and patience for years, and broke his heart when all he did was love her. Selfish, cold, and uncaring. Nothing like the pretty, perky girl sitting next to him in the booth they’re sharing at Seth’s.
If only they knew what really happened.
The bar is especially busy, even for a Saturday night, so you figure no one’ll notice you blatantly glaring at them. It’s not like you care, anyway. You’re feeling warm and loose, and maybe a little too tipsy for your own good, but tonight, you get to do whatever the fuck you want.
Because Joel’s sitting ten feet away with his arm slung around another woman, and it hurts.
It sucks way worse than him avoiding you since the last time you slept together, after all of the things you did and said on that couch. The things he said. You shoo away the thought with another swig of beer, wishing you were drinking something stronger. It's for the best.
If you get any drunker, you’ll probably end up doing something stupid, and the last thing you need is to prove everyone right that he’s better off without you. But you can’t seem to shake the anger that’s starting to simmer below the surface.
With the emotional toll this night has already taken, you kind of don’t want to. So, you surrender to it. Fuck him. He’s a piece of shit for parading his new girl around right in front of you, and for breaking off your agreement without so much as a word.
If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve opened his mouth and used his big boy words. Then again, he’s always been terrible at that, so why are you surprised?
Maybe he’ll fuck her tonight. Touch her all of the ways you like because that’s all he knows anymore. She’ll moan for him, soft and sweet, gentle in her affection, just like she’s touching him right now. But it won’t satisfy him, and when he’s panting on top of her, chasing that all-consuming release only you can give him, you know he’ll be pretending she's you.
Asshole.
You’re still watching them, shooting daggers from your spot at the bar, when your wish from earlier is granted. Two overflowing shot glasses topped with lime are placed in front of you, and you look up to see a very attractive dark-haired, brown-eyed man smirking down at you.
"Looked a little lonely over here," he says in a raspy baritone even lower than Joel's. He clinks the top of your beer bottle with the bottom of his own. "Thought you could use some company, maybe another drink."
Well, he’s right. You could use some company, and you’d love another drink. There’s no harm in having a little fun, right? If Joel’s doing it, then there’s nothing stopping you.
"So, both of these are for me, then?" you smile coyly, reaching for one. He nods, his own smile widening.
"Could be. Can I join ya?" he gestures to the empty stool next to you.
He has this cocky look on his face like he already knows you'll say yes, and in your inebriated state, you think it's kind of hot. It reminds you of Joel when you first met. How he knew exactly what he wanted and wouldn't give up until it was his. Until you were his.
You consider him for a moment. He’s young, maybe even younger than you, and obviously confident enough to make a move on you. Fleetingly, you think he might end up being that stupid thing you do tonight, but then you down one of the shots and decide you don't actually care.
What turns out to be tequila burns the entire way down, and you immediately pick up a slice of lime. You’re hyperaware of the way his eyes lock onto your mouth as you suck on the sour fruit, lingering when a droplet of juice dribbles down your chin.
It’s not a total surprise when he reaches up to thumb it away, but you are taken off guard by how strange it makes you feel. The pad of his finger is disappointingly smooth, no weathering or even a hint of a callus. You're not sure why that matters to you, but you can take a decent guess.
You chance a glance over at Joel's table and, of course, you have his full attention now. His entire body looks tense, from his hand clenched on the table to the prominent vein bulging angrily in his neck.
Good. Now he knows how it feels.
Looking back up at your mystery guy, you run your tongue along your bottom lip, catching any remaining lime before you finally give him an answer.
"Sure. Pop a squat, cowboy," you giggle. It doesn't even sound like you and feels wrong the second it passes your lips, but as long as Joel heard it, that's all that matters. "You got a name?"
He replies, but you're too busy keeping an eye on Joel in your peripheral to catch what he says. In the back of your mind, you think that’s probably a good thing. You'd rather not know, especially if you do end up taking him home.
Mystery guy laughs at your noncommittal hum and you realize you’ve been caught. But he doesn’t seem upset. It’s clear he’s amused by your obvious interest elsewhere and that piques your curiosity.
Any other guy here would’ve been pissed by your apathy, especially if they’d bothered to buy you a drink that you accepted, but apparently not this one.
He sits down on the stool next to you, pulling it close enough that his knee presses against yours. You unconsciously lean into him, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite your growing unease.
He's...baffling. A total enigma. You can’t figure out what his deal is or why he’s choosing to keep pursuing you when your eyes have been glued to another man all night.
The thought of letting this continue long enough to find out is a little thrilling. Might as well see where this goes. If it escalates, you’re more than confident in your ability to care of yourself.
But it happens sooner than you expect. His hand finds the back of your stool and, then, his lips are suddenly right next to your cheek. You can feel the warmth of them as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear.
“Look, not try'na to overstep, but…,” his eyes dart to where Joel’s sitting, unreservedly ignoring his date. The poor thing barely notices, chattering away about something not nearly as important to him as watching you. His gaze returns to you, and you can feel him smirking. “You wanna make that guy you've been staring at all night jealous?"
That’s—wow. You didn’t see that one coming. He’s got a lot of audacity to assume that’s something you’d want, let alone offer…what? His services?
But, then again, he isn’t wrong. Joel’s been the only thing on your mind since you walked into Seth’s tonight and saw him with her. He’s always on your mind if you’re being totally honest with yourself. It’s plain to see, obvious to every single person in this bar including the man himself.
You eye your mystery guy curiously for a second before nodding, your lips quirking into a small smirk. Maybe it’s time to prove to Joel and everyone else in this judgmental town that you’ve moved on, too. That you’re not the sad, bitter shrew that deserves to be alone.
"Yeah, actually, I do," you reply cautiously. But there's still one lingering question that has yet to be answered. "I just…why? I don’t get why you’re helping me. What are you getting out of this?”
He shrugs, and somehow you can just tell by the look in his eyes that there’s no hidden agenda. You’re not sure how you’re just noticing, but he has kind eyes. This whole time, he’s been nothing but patient and attentive, like Joel always was—...is?
Was.
You almost wish you could fall for someone like this man instead of pathetically clinging to your past. Maybe you’ll at least get a friend out of this crazy night, if nothing else. But then you remember one, tiny problem with that idea.
“Can you tell me your name again? I promise you have my full attention this time,” you smile sheepishly. He chuckles good-naturedly and, again, doesn’t seem to hold it against you.
“It’s Jesse,” he says with a deep, southern drawl you should probably be more attracted to. “And let’s just say I know how it feels to want someone ya can’t have.”
You nod slowly, understanding perfectly. Except—you didn't realize up until this moment that that's exactly what you want. Someone you can't ever have.
And it took seeing Joel with someone else, his body pressed up against a woman that isn't you, to realize it. Well, that fucking sucks.
You decide not to ask about Jesse's situation. It's not your business and, anyway, you're both trying to feel better about your circumstances, not worse.
There’s a silent sense of camaraderie between you that tells you to throw caution to the wind. Tossing back the second shot, you turn your stool to face his, literally and figuratively turning your back on Joel.
“It’s really nice to meet you, Jesse,” you murmur, and you genuinely mean it. He grins, leaning in slowly, still giving you time to back out if you want to, but you don't.
Eat your heart out, Joel Miller. This one's for you.
"S'nice to meet you, too," he replies softly.
Then, his lips are on yours. The kiss is wet and open-mouthed, and yet he handles you so delicately. He cradles your face in his hands as his tongue brushes against yours, and you moan softly into his mouth, letting your body get lost in the way he feels. And he feels so—
Much different than Joel.
All you can think about is how much you miss Joel's rough touch, the way he'd thread his fingers through your hair and tug you into his mouth, nearly devouring you whole. Joel kissed you like every time might be the last, right up until it actually was.
Fucking hell, why can't you just enjoy this without him ruining it for you?
You try to forget about it, about him, licking into Jesse's mouth a little more aggressively, and he groans, his body eager and responsive. It's probably more than you should be doing in public, sitting at a bar surrounded by people but, hell, you want them to see.
They can say whatever they want about you. You're done giving a shit.
And, boy, will they have a lot to talk about after tonight. Joel makes sure of that. It happens so fast, you barely register that Jesse’s lips aren’t on yours anymore like they should be.
One moment, Jesse's hands are trailing down your sides to your waist, and the next, he's being forcibly dragged off you. Between you stands a broad, imposing figure ensuring you stay separated.
Your mind goes blank, and all you can do is watch in shock and disbelief as Joel lets loose on him, his words possessive and almost nonsensical.
"The fuck you think you're doin' touchin' her like that? Y'need to learn how to keep your hands to yourself, kid, before ya get yourself in trouble," he grits out angrily.
To his credit, Jesse stays cool and collected, but it’s not enough. There’s already a few pairs of eyes on you, drawn by the physical altercation, and it won’t be long before the rest of the bar notices the impending fight.
"Respectfully, sir, s'long as the lady consents, I'll put my hands wherever she wants," Jesse replies, standing his ground. He tries to move around him to return to your side, but Joel fixes him with a look that sends a shiver down your spine.
"S'that really a good idea?" Joel sounds menacing and looks even more so the longer the conversation continues.
You’re still numb to everything unfolding in front of you and it’s not until Jesse’s next to you again, snaking an arm around your waist, that you finally come to. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks and now you’re mad. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Jesse cuts you off before you can get a word in.
“There a reason it wouldn’t be?” he turns the question back on Joel and you tense, anticipating a less-than-friendly answer. Jesse squeezes your hip in reassurance, but it does nothing to soothe your unease. He doesn’t know Joel like you do.
“Kid, do I look like I’m fuckin’ around? Take your hands off her and walk away. M'not gonna tell you again,” he all but growls, taking a threatening step forward.
Neither of you back down. Jesse’s arm stays firm around you as your nails bite into your palm. It's taking everything you've got not to make a bigger scene than you already have.
You knew it. Since the breakup, you’ve been trying to reconcile this increasingly unfamiliar man with the Joel you gave your entire heart to all those years ago. With each passing month, the differences between the two become more and more obvious.
He's angrier now and has so much less patience. It's not that he's unkind. You know that no matter what his circumstances are, Joel will continue to be a good man. But he has a hair trigger, especially when it comes to you.
And he wants. God, he always wants you. It’s not that you didn’t have an active sex life before everything fell apart. He just...fucks you differently now. Possessively and without restraint, like he needs to be sure you're satisfied enough to never need anyone else. The agreement to keep sleeping together was actually his idea. And it worked for a while—until it suddenly didn't.
Now, you're forced to come face-to-face with that reality. Sitting at this bar, you spent the entirety of the night believing he'd decided he didn't want you anymore, that he was ready to find happiness in something simpler than sneaking around with his ex.
Except, it's starting to feel like maybe that's not as true as he made it seem. Like he never should've gone on this date in the first place.
"What the fuck, Joel?" you hiss, fighting to keep your volume under control. Not that it matters. The entire bar is staring at you, their eyes ping-ponging back and forth like they're watching a tennis match. "Back the fuck off. Now. This is none of your business."
"The hell it ain't my business. Some kid's runnin' his hands all over another man's girl and y'think that ain't my business?"
His trembling hands clench into fists at his sides and, while you’re betting the rest of the bar thinks he’s preparing for a fight, that isn’t Joel. It might be you, though, if he keeps this up.
"Excuse me? And whose girl am I—yours? Because I'm pretty sure your girl is sitting over there in that booth. Or did you forget about your date?"
For a moment, he actually has the nerve to look ashamed, like he feels bad about leaving her all alone at their table and for humiliating her in front of all these people. He avoids her crestfallen gaze, likely not ready to face the hurt he’s caused.
But it only lasts for a second before his eyes darken again, focused solely on you. As if Jesse, his pretty date, and everyone else in this bar disappeared, and it's just you and him. This conversation doesn't include them anymore. It's a private matter now.
"We're leavin'," he says with finality, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He should know better. That's not how things work with you. You’re a fighter, a trait he’s always loved about you, even if your ire was directed at him. Back then, it rarely was.
"You're out of your mind if you think I'm leaving with you," you scoff bitterly. "Go back to your date, I'll go back to mine, and we can forget about this. All of it. We're done, Joel."
He shakes his head, mouth tipping down into a frown like he's thinking something over. Then, he huffs out a laugh. Like, an actual laugh, and you start to think maybe he really has lost his mind.
"Y'know, I really don't think we are, darlin'," he drawls dangerously.
He's on you in an instant, his hand wrapped tightly around your arm as he drags you out of the bar. You briefly consider resisting, but he's moving too quickly. All of those shots you downed combined with the beer you drank earlier go straight to your head, and you're suddenly overwhelmingly distracted by the feeling of his skin on yours.
Fuck, it feels like it's been so long. In reality, you know it's only been a few weeks but, god, you missed it. His hands on your body, anywhere at all on your body. You'd hate how quickly you forget about Jesse if you could think about anything else but those familiar, rough fingertips.
The way they dig into you, reminiscent of how he'd squeeze your thighs or clutch your waist when he was making love to you.
...Wait, what? No...no, fuck. Why is he making this so difficult? Why—Christ...why can't you just leave each other alone? If he never planned on letting you go, he shouldn't have broken up with you. And if he still wanted you this badly...all he had to do was ask. You would've said yes in a heartbeat.
So, you let him steal you away, out into the brisk, wintry air that does little to cool your fury or the heat beginning to coil in your belly. The door shuts noisily behind you, and you immediately wrench your arm out of his grasp before he can say a word. It's your turn to talk now.
"What is wrong with you? You can't just...fuck, you can't do shit like this!" You're seething, practically shaking in your rage, and his expression doesn't look much different.
"And you can? I dunno what the hell you were thinkin' gettin’ cozy with some goddamn kid, lettin’ him touch ya like that in front of the whole town," he reiterates harshly. He's starting to sound like a broken record. It's the only leverage he's got, and you both know it's flimsy at best.
"Some kid? Jesse's a fucking adult, clearly more mature than you," you bite back. "And it’s a bar, Joel. That's what people do at bars."
Joel scoffs, and you can tell he hates the way Jesse's name falls from your lips. Especially when those lips were on yours not even ten minutes ago.
"And who are you to decide who can and can't touch me? You broke up with me," you continue resentfully. "You don't get a say anymore."
At that, his face becomes unreadable. He didn't need the reminder, and you know that, but it needed to be said for both of your sakes. Sometimes you think maybe he actually forgets it was his choice to give you up. That he didn't realize his decision would hurt you as much as it hurt him.
"So, what? You gonna take him home then, let him fuck ya?" He leans in close, so close you can feel his soft, graying curls against your temple and the coarse drag of his beard across your cheek.
"Kiss ya here—," a finger trails delicately down the side of your neck to his spot above your collarbone, then continues down to where you've been aching for him for weeks, "—taste ya here."
You slap his hand away before he can get any further, but your reaction only spurs him on. How could you forget? He likes that.
"Y'know he can't make ya feel as good as I do. Fuck you just how y'like it, make ya cum as hard as I do," he drawls confidently, almost smugly, in your ear. "Don't ya?"
It's less a question than a statement, because you both know he's right. Joel knows your body better than anyone ever has, maybe even better than you know it yourself. Just as much as you know his. And it's sort of funny. You were thinking the exact same thing about him with his date earlier.
"Sure, Joel. Just like you were gonna take that girl home, right?" You raise an eyebrow, turning your head so your lips graze his skin. "Pretty little thing like her, I bet she likes it slow and romantic. She’ll probably even stick around for a snuggle and some pillow talk. You'd love that.”
Even as you mock him, the sneer marring your face doesn’t quite meet your eyes, and the spiteful nature of your words tastes acrid as they pass your lips. He’s so good at that. Always able to bring out the worst in you to prove his point—that he’s no good for you.
But you stand firm, your chest pressed flush against his in a show of determination. You're still in control here, unlike Joel, whose fingers are twitching noticeably at his sides like he's just itching to get his hands on you again.
"Maybe I would. Liked it with you, didn't I?" he murmurs wistfully, and that catches you completely off guard.
His words are almost too gentle to belong in this argument, and it doesn’t feel fair. What's worse, he looks like he means them. You’d prefer the fight, the aggression of the man who dragged you out of the bar. Not this. Not these traces of your Joel.
You can already feel your resolve slipping, and the rapid thrum of your heartbeat tells you to let it. When his hands finally take their rightful place on your waist, he’s in control again.
The cool evening air is suddenly stifling, and you’re starting to feel like you’re suffocating, your thoughts a jumbled, heated haze of anger and fear and want. He squeezes hard enough to pull your hips into his and you unintentionally buck, allowing his hands to travel up your shirt.
There's an intensity to his gaze, tinged with an unexpected tenderness. He almost looks...sated. Fulfilled, now that you're back in his arms. But not completely, not yet.
"You still haven't answered my question," he mutters. His hands splay across your ribcage, high enough for his thumbs to tease the undersides of your breasts.
You bite down hard on your bottom lip, sliding your hands up his chest to push him away so you can catch your breath, but your body won't cooperate. It's been well-trained to crave his touch. Exhaling sharply through your nose, you fist his shirt and instead pull him impossibly closer.
"You asked a lot of questions tonight. You're gonna have to be a little more specific,” you pant heavily.
It's getting more difficult to think, now, with the warmth of his body against you, his thumbs shifting higher to stroke your stiffening nipples. He urges your hips forward again to meet his, and you can already feel him straining in his jeans.
You whimper helplessly, unable to curb the way your body's reacting to him, and the soft sound causes something in him to snap. He suddenly backs you up against the hard brick of the bar's exterior and begins to grind languidly into your stomach.
"Y'really believe that boy can take care of a woman like you? Hm?" He interrogates you, his voice gravelly and uneven in your ear. "Tell me I'm the only one who can give you what ya need. Wanna hear ya say it."
Fuck, you can't lie to him. As much as you want to, it's just one more thing your body won't allow you to do. Not when he's working you up like this.
"You're the only one," you moan around your admission. He's still crowding you into the wall, his hands greedily roaming your soft curves.
His eyes meet yours, darting quickly to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you passionately like he’s rewarding you. It only lasts for a second, one deliciously fleeting second, before he pulls away. You’re not sure why you let him. Or why you kissed back.
"Who's the only man who can make ya scream?" he demands a little more urgently.
"You, Joel,” you murmur obediently, your lips already parted and ready for your prize.
And he acquiesces—another insistent kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough. This time, you chase him, but he jerks his head back. He still has one last question for you. Except, this time, he looks afraid of the answer.
"Whose girl are ya?"
He whispers it so softly, you barely catch it over the whistling, nighttime breeze. As he brushes a few ruffled strands of hair behind your ear, you answer without hesitation.
"Yours, Joel."
His entire body relaxes. Now, he's complete.
"Damn right, you are—"
Then, the front door bursts open next to you, and he's abruptly cut off. Joel is quick to tug you around the corner into the alleyway before anyone can spot you, but he's not fast enough to keep you from seeing who just left the bar.
Jesse.
And there it is. A shock to the system, enough to clear some of that smoky, nostalgic haze and bring you back to the present. But as everything hurtles back for the second time tonight, this time around, you can’t be mad because he’s right.
Of course, you're not Jesse's girl. As pathetic as it sounds, you'll always be Joel's because he’s the only one who can take care of you and give you what need. The only man who can make you scream. But that goes both ways.
Even though he’s been picking fights all night, he hasn’t raised his voice once. It's not the way he wins his battles. So, maybe it's time to remind Joel Miller that there is someone who can make him scream. But he isn't allowed to unless you say so.
It all feels eerily familiar—his fingers digging into your waist and your lips crashing into his hard enough to bruise. You lead him deeper into the alley, back to where the glow of the string lights above the bar can't reach you, before you separate from him.
Neither of you wants to be the one to say it, but it needs to be heard. Here, in the dark, you can be his completely, but once you part ways and return to your empty beds, that's it. Just like last time. The reasons for your breakup are still very real, and that means your relationship can't be.
"Only here. Right, Joel?"
He stays silent for a moment, his gaze filled with deep longing and sadness. It almost makes you want to take it back. Take him back. So, when he shakes his head and cups your cheeks, kissing you like this might be his last chance, you're not surprised in the slightest.
And after this whole night—this whole confusing, fucked-up night—you let him. Right now, he needs this. Maybe you do, too.
His lips taste like whiskey and relief, and you return his kiss with all of the passion and fervor he’s pouring into you. You’re both a little frantic in the way you touch each other, but as much as you don’t want it to, it makes perfect sense.
Those few weeks without each other felt like years, and now that his hands are back on your body and his voice, deep and dulcet, is in your ear telling you how badly he wants you, you don’t want to let him go again.
You grind the heel of your hand into the front of his jeans and his responding groan pleases you more than it probably should. This. This is yours—his pleasure, his attention, him. They belong to you and you alone. Not his pretty, perky fucking date.
The sudden possessiveness stuns you for a moment, but it's not enough to stop the feeling from consuming you. This must be how it feels for Joel. It's potent and feels so, so…right. You're starting to think you've felt this way for a while.
"I needed you, and you made me wait so fucking long," you gasp against his lips, and the fingers cradling your face tense. You’re still fisting his shirt, nearly hard enough to tear, and you wrench it up from where it’s tucked into his pants.
"M'sorry, darlin', I know. I know I did,” he rasps back, following your lead and dropping his hands from your cheeks so he can unbuckle his jeans. “M'gonna make it up to ya. Tell me what you want, I’ll give it to ya.”
You want everything. Everything he has to give, you want it all. After everything you've been through, the hurt he caused you, you deserve it. And right now, what you want is for him to feel so good, he'll never go on a date with someone who isn't you ever again.
Sharp gravel bites into your bare skin as you drop to your knees in front of him. He's already so hard under all that heavy fabric and looks desperate above you. Just as desperate as you are for him to replace the flavor of Jesse's tequila and lime on your tongue with something saltier and headier, and undeniably Joel.
You hastily unbutton and unzip his jeans, not wasting any more of the precious time you have left together, before tugging them down just enough to free his cock and balls. He looks...fucking mouth-watering—flushed and red and leaking, and so goddamn thick. You wrap your hand around him and he sighs gratefully, dribbling precum onto your fingers.
"This is what I want," you finally reply, keeping your eyes locked on his as you lean forward to lick a broad line up his cock. He hisses in a breath through his teeth, his thighs already beginning to tremble, and you brace your hand on one. "But you're gonna be quiet, okay? I'm gonna suck your cock and you're not gonna make a single sound."
His expression darkens, but he agrees to your terms, nonetheless.
"Sure, darlin'. Whatever you say," he nods, gazing down at you with furrowed brows. He cradles your face in his hand and brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.
The affectionate gesture isn't lost on you, but this time you accept it. Instinctively leaning into his touch, you revel in it for a brief moment before his cock pulsing a frantic rhythm against your palm becomes an unignorable distraction. But a welcome one.
"That's my boy," you mumble against the tip. Just as a pained noise escapes his parted lips, you swallow him down as far as you can take him, purposely gagging yourself on him before you can dwell on the words that accidentally just tumbled out.
Your boy. Your boy. It echoes in your mind, ricocheting wildly and painfully like a bullet. Before you can take it back, maybe even to keep you from taking it back, he buries his fingers in your hair and holds you in place. You choke around him, trying your best to breathe through your nose, but in doing so, you take in a lungful of the heady musk at his base.
The familiarity of it all sends you reeling. He only gives you a second to adjust before he's fucking into your mouth and biting back a litany of needy sounds that rival your own wet, audible gagging. Your grip on his thigh tightens as your throat relaxes, allowing you to take him deeper, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing every time he grazes the back of your throat.
Tears stream down your cheeks and he wipes them away with a much too tender swipe of his thumb, even as he continues to force you up and down his cock. But you're too lost in your pleasure to notice anymore. So fucking good, you feel so, so good. But you need more, and you're not willing to pull off of him just yet.
Tugging down the front of your shirt, you roll a sensitive nipple between your fingers, and, god, that helps. You imagine they're Joel's and it amplifies the sensation, though your fingertips are still too smooth and delicate. Then, they're replaced by exactly what you've been yearning for all night.
“You don’t even know how beautiful y'look like this,” he grits out, his fingers running through your hair with one hand and roughly cupping your breast with the other. His hips stutter, and you moan around him. “Fuckin’ perfect. How are ya so fuckin’ perfect?”
Beautiful. More beautiful than her? Well, you must be, because you’re the one here on your knees, choking on his cock, and she’s still sitting in the bar wondering if her date will ever come back.
He won’t.
You preen without meaning to, your eyes blearily finding his while you drool around him, dripping saliva down his balls and onto your bare breasts. It's as if the visual alone has him thrusting into your mouth faster, pushing your limits only as much as he knows you can take. You must look like a wet dream right now, his wet dream, with your watery eyes and swollen, split-slick lips wrapped tightly around him.
Yet, he's remained so, so quiet this entire time, just like you told him to. Joel likes his sex loud, regardless of where you are and who might hear, so if he’s following your rules, that means something.
It means he'll do whatever it takes to have you. The realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water, and then you're pulling off of him.
“You’ll give me anything, right? Anything I want?” your voice cracks around the question, wrecked from the effort of taking him. His hips chase your hand as you continue to pump him, matching his previous, unforgiving pace.
“That ain’t a question, y’know I will,” he replies breathily and without hesitation.
You gaze up at him, praying your eyes convey all of the need and anguish and hope you've felt since the last time you slept together. Since the last time you were his.
“Fuck me," and you won't accept anything less than his all. Not that half-assed shit he would've given her. "Fuck me."
He understands. His heart rate kicks up, thrumming wildly against the palm of your hand, and you know he does.
The growl that rumbles through his chest is nearly soundless but powerful. An entire night's worth of tension culminating in a single exhaled breath, just before he drags you up and spins you around, bending you over against the wall.
Bracing yourself on the harsh brick, you rush to give him better access, arching your back as he tugs your pants and underwear down to your knees. A callused hand runs upward, following the notches of your spine, while his other spreads across your waist, pulling your hips back onto his so you can feel him, heavy and leaking against your bare ass.
God, he’s so close to where you need him now. His knuckles graze your skin as he grips the base, pumping himself before the blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance.
But then, for some godforsaken reason, you feel a wave of panic. Time suddenly feels like it's running out, worsening with every subtle movement he makes. The ticking clock of your and Joel's relationship, perpetually stuck at two minutes to midnight, has sprung to life and that terrifies you.
You don't want him to stop—fuck, you don't want him to stop, but you know neither of you will last long once he's inside you. The build-up was too intense and this entire night has you both wound up so tight, you could snap at any moment.
You need to savor this. The way you failed to on your couch all those weeks ago, and might not get to ever again.
“Slow,” you tell him over your shoulder, and it's equal parts a command and a plea. If this is the last time, then you want to feel it. Every thick inch of him, while he still belongs to you. “Just…go slow.”
He nods, shifting forward almost imperceptibly so he can watch your lashes flutter as you brace for the stretch.
"Don't need’ta tell me. I know how ya like it," he replies gruffly.
He does. For now, you won’t overthink it or let yourself get lost in the nostalgia of his cock nestled inside you. You’ll just enjoy it. Sex with Joel has always been mind-blowing, and here, in a dirty alleyway, pressed up against the exterior of a bar, you bet it’ll be life-changing.
It stings like it always does when he breaches your entrance, no matter how wet you are for him. Together, you hiss in a sharp breath, mutually adjusting to the overwhelming stretch that quickly ebbs into something addictive.
"Tight as all goddamn hell," he mutters to himself, rocking into you languidly. He takes his time, relishing your walls enveloping him, mesmerized by the way you suck him in until he's buried to the hilt.
"Would'ja look at that," he continues in awe, tracing where his cock is forcing you to yield to him. "Greedy fuckin' pussy, ain't she? M'not goin' anywhere, don't'chu worry. Gonna take care of ya...make ya feel so fuckin' good..."
He's starting to babble. Not good. Not good at all.
Broad hands grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can see how tightly you’re gripping him, and it's too much. His hips buck, startling a pained whine out of you as he rams into that spot. The one deep inside you he can only reach when he’s fucking you from behind. Your cunt clenches, fighting to keep him there, and he growls low in his throat, hungry and territorial like a wild animal.
"There it is," he nudges it again, purposefully this time. You barely manage to bite back a sob as you gush messily around him. "Christ, honey, y'sure ya still want it slow? 'Cus it sure don't sound like it."
He's patronizing you. He knows exactly what he's doing—that's his spot. He also knows it makes you loud as fuck. But he wouldn’t. There’s no way he’d go back on his word, not after he promised he’d be discreet.
"Joel. Don't," you warn him shakily, but you're already too far gone to be intimidating.
He pulls out until just the tip is still inside you, huffing out a distinctly calculated breath.
"Don't what? Don't make ya cum nice and loud on my cock? 'Fraid I can't do that, darlin'."
That's all the warning you get before he slams in hard. Your jaw drops, and you're positive you couldn't have stopped the wail punched out of your chest even if you'd tried.
Wrong. You’re wrong again, and you should’ve known better. It’s not the first time he’s gone back on his word, remember? Joel’s shitty lack of communication is why you’re here in the first place. Sure, he agreed to be quiet, but he never said anything about you.
He establishes a brutal pace that has you scrabbling against the wall for purchase and slapping a hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the desperate cries being forced from your body.
Please, don’t be outside. Please, please, Jesse. Don’t still be outside.
But your luck's officially run out.
Heavy mahogany crashes into solid brick, echoing down the alleyway, and a raucous group of people spills out onto the street, barely 30 feet from where your ass and tits are out for anyone to see. Then, the deep baritone of Jesse's voice cuts through the rest, and your blood immediately turns to ice.
You're fucked. You're about to get caught and expose your secret to the entire town, except...Joel isn't stopping. Fuck, he's—
Yanking your entire body up and ripping your hand away from your mouth, rutting into you like he was just waiting for an audience. He snakes a hand up your stomach to palm at your chest, squeezing firmly to anchor himself as he fucks up into you with all the force he can muster.
And it turns you on so much, you finally stop caring. Fuck it. Fuck this town. Fuck everyone in that bar who made you feel like a goddamn pariah for months, crucifying you for the unforgivable sin of getting your heart broken.
You hope his date's standing out there, too, so she can hear everything she'll never get to have. So they can all see that Joel Miller isn't the crushed, cruelly dumped old man they all thought he was.
Your moans ring out, loud and high-pitched, all but drowning out the messy slap of his hips into the drenched curve of your ass.
"That's it, darlin', let it all out," he chuckles darkly against the shell of your ear. Your next moan tapers into a drawn-out keen that he mimics, his thrusts getting shallow and sloppy. "S'for me, right? Let 'em know you're makin' all those pretty noises just for me."
Christ, you're close. And he's as close as you are, you can feel it. You turn your head, nodding jerkily into his shoulder.
"S'for you, Joel—mmph, just for you. Only for you," your words slur as he continues to bounce you on his cock.
"Tell 'em you're mine, darlin’. Not just here," he pants raggedly, desperation coating his words. "Everywhere. You're mine everywhere."
The voices are getting closer, about to pass the mouth of the alley, and the ice in your veins quickly thaws, turning to molten lava. They'll definitely be able to able to hear you, but can they see you? For the umpteenth time tonight, you decide you really don't give a shit. You've got none left. You and Joel, that's all that matters now.
His hand drops between your legs, thick fingers swirling tight, slick circles into your clit while he waits for you to confirm what he already knows. You've said it again and again—weeks ago, wrapped up in his arms, and earlier tonight, after the worst argument you've had since the breakup.
And you’ll tell him again in this alley as you cum blindingly hard around his cock. Third time's the charm.
"Y-yours, Joel. I'm always yours."
His hips completely lose their rhythm, and he barely has time to breathe out his contentment before the violent convulsing of your cunt and contrasting serenity of your words send him hurtling over the edge.
"That's my girl."
He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing every noise you make as the group finally comes into view. Their drunken chattering and roughhousing aren't enough to draw your attention away from each other, but the depraved sounds of Joel continuing to fuck you through your release captures theirs almost immediately.
A few of them stop to squint into the darkness, trying their best to pinpoint what everyone already knows is happening further down the alley. As they inch closer, they can just barely make out two connected figures, and the wind carrying muffled gasps and labored breathing with it into the street all but confirms it.
"Y'all seein' this?" they whisper amongst themselves, but in the inebriated state they're in, they might as well be yelling.
And that's what pulls you and Joel back to reality. Shit. Shit. So, this is it, then. You tense in Joel's arms, waiting to get called out as the slutty girl who seduced her ex away from his date. Hell, they're not even wrong. You can feel his cum dribbling out of you, and can't help but think maybe you'd deserve it.
From where you're standing, you recognize each and every one of their faces under the string lights, and you know damn well that none of them can keep their mouths shut. Except...wait a second. They're still glancing back and forth between you and Joel in the shadows and each other.
Oh. The fucking shadows. None of them can see shit. They have no clue who the hell they're looking at. Joel must've caught on around the same time you did, because now he's backing up, putting more distance between you and the looming crowd. Before they can get any closer, one of the younger guys cuts in front to block their path.
“C’mon, it's probably a couple’a teenagers. Just let ‘em be," he drawls, glancing back at you. Your eyes lock, and you're suddenly so grateful, you could cry. It's Jesse. He shoots you a wink before turning back to the group, shaking his head in mock admonishment. "Don't act like y'all weren't doin' the same damn thing at their age."
By some miracle, it fucking works. They all laugh in agreement, appeased by Jesse's quick thinking. One by one, they follow each other out of the alley and back onto the road to continue their original path home. Jesse lingers.
"Glad y'all figured things out," he calls out over his shoulder, giving you privacy to tug your shirt back up. He clears his throat awkwardly before continuing, "Look, I, uh...distracted as many people as I could from comin' over here, but if y'all were gonna be that loud, maybe you should'a figured things out at home."
Jesse shakes his head again, chuckling to himself as he shoves his hands into his pockets.
"Anyway, y'all have a good night, now. Get home safe."
As he jogs away to catch up with the rest of the group, you start to laugh, too. You can’t help it. It feels cathartic, relieving some of the tension of this overly eventful night.
Joel’s body begins to shake behind you, his chest rumbling with what you realize is deep-bellied laughter. It gradually increases in volume as it melds seamlessly with yours; transitory, white clouds of condensation that intertwine, then dissipate.
You feel him slip out as he starts to soften, and then he turns you to face him, carefully crowding you into the wall. He kisses you again, this time slow and deliberate like you asked him to earlier. His tongue meets yours, gasps exchanged and treasured like you have all the time in the world.
When he parts from you, it feels reluctant, but he stays close, whispering his next words against your lips.
“M’gonna get ya cleaned up, alright?” he mumbles, dropping his arm from around your waist to run his fingers up the cum leaking down your thighs. You shiver as they continue up, slipping his release back inside you. “Don’t…,” he continues, squeezing his eyes shut as his forehead drops to yours, “…just—don’t go anywhere. Please. I’ll be right back.”
Maybe he’s trying to protect himself from the response he anticipates you’ll give him, but that seems silly after everything you’ve been through tonight. You cup his cheek and thumb the coarse, trimmed hairs of his beard, willing him to open his eyes. He does, hesitantly, one then the other, and you offer him a soft smile.
“I’m not going anywhere, Joel.”
An intoxicating breath fans across your face, and the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders loosen. His lips match the soft quirk of your own and, then, brush fleetingly against your cheekbone as he backs away and disappears through a metal side door you didn't notice before. The moment it clicks shut, you slump against the wall.
Christ. Your mind is simultaneously blank and racing a mile a minute. Taking a deep breath, you let your head thunk into solid, grounding brick while you wait for even a single coherent thought to take root. What now? What happens next?
There's no coming back from tonight. You both made choices you'll have to answer for, but, for some reason, that doesn't seem so scary anymore. The clock is ticking, but there's time. Plenty of it.
You're still lost in your reverie when Joel gets back with a thick wad of damp paper towels. You snort at the idea of him suddenly appearing in Seth's kitchen and having to explain himself, but maybe the racket you kicked up right outside his door was explanation enough.
"Seth didn't give you any shit for stealing his stuff?" you ask as Joel drops to his knees and coaxes one of your legs over his shoulder.
The cold air has already started to leach the warmth from the paper towels, and they feel cool as he slides them along your soiled skin. He huffs out a laugh.
"Nah, the kitchen was empty. Think they're startin' to close up for the night."
When he finishes your first thigh, he surprises you by leaning in to press a soft kiss against your freshly cleaned skin. He nips at you teasingly before starting on the next one.
You hum in response, threading your fingers through his hair and watching fondly as he pays careful attention to his task. He continues to wipe away his drying release, trailing his lips down your thigh as he goes, until he finishes at your knee.
He gazes up at you with a charmingly crooked grin, and that’s when it finally slips out. The single coherent thought you’ve been waiting for.
“I love you, Joel,” you murmur, brushing your fingertips across his cheek.
His smile falters. Then, it drops completely and your heart shatters. You don’t understand. But that—no. No, it doesn’t make any fucking sense. After everything that’s happened, how could you have been wrong again?
Joel sighs, grimacing as he slowly gets back up. He braces himself on one knee, clearly aching more than he's letting on, but when you reach down to offer him a hand, he refuses your help.
“S’fine, I got it. Just…,” he gestures to your jeans, still hanging loosely around your knees. You pull them up, fighting not to feel humiliated as he rises to his full height.
You search his eyes for…something. Anything. Any indication of what he’s feeling right now, but they’re blank. Cold and distant, just like they were the night he left you.
No. He doesn’t get to do this to you again. Not after everything you’ve been through. Not without an explanation. Not if he doesn’t want to lose you forever.
“Tell me why you broke up with me."
For a long time, you genuinely believed you could live without knowing the truth, but somewhere along the line, it began to eat away at you. Now, you want the real reason. He owes you that, at the very least.
You wait while he either works himself up to it or tries to figure out what bullshit to tell you this time. Once his hands settle on his hips, you know with absolute certainty it's the latter.
“Darlin’…,” he starts wearily, but you shoot him a look that stops him in his tracks. He doesn't get to call you that right now, and he knows it. Pausing, he nods grimly before beginning again. "We already talked about this. I’m no good for ya. It was only a matter of time before ya woke up one day and realized it for yourself.”
There it is. That same bullshit reason. You scoff bitterly, not surprised in the slightest.
“What the fuck does that even mean, Joel? We were together for years. If that was gonna happen, don’t you think it would’ve already?" you counter angrily.
You're trying not to get emotional. This can't be a repeat of what happened last time, but it's dragging up too many painful memories. It's always the same fight. You can't do this anymore.
"You know what? Fuck you," you seethe as your self-control slips completely. "Fuck you for making that decision for me. You had no right."
At your words, his face crumples and he has the nerve to look ashamed. Maybe even a little hurt. His pained expression makes your heart ache, yet a nastier part of you believes it's only fair that he feels this way, too. He sighs, his eyes dropping wistfully to his feet.
“I did what I thought was best," he mumbles quietly as if he doesn't want to be heard. It's hard for him to say this out loud, and you realize it's because he's finally telling you the truth. "I just…I thought you’d be happier with someone else, someone who could give ya a family. Kids. I gave you up so you could have the life ya always wanted."
You eye him incredulously. The life you always wanted? Sure, you and Joel had toyed with the idea of having a family once upon a time, but that was never a dealbreaker. He should've known that. He should've brought it up before deciding to destroy your life together over an idealized fantasy.
“Oh, here we go. Joel, the fucking savior. Mr. Fix-It, swooping in to save everyone and solve every problem," you hurl back venomously. But it was a cruel thing to say, and you immediately hate yourself for it.
Rationally, you know his intentions were kind. He probably even thought he was being selfless. But he hurt you, and, through your tunnel vision, that's all you can see. You push yourself off the wall, stalking closer to where he stands, still refusing to look at you.
"So what, you thought you’d dump me and I’d immediately shack up with some other asshole? Is that really what you think of me?”
His eyes shoot up to yours and his fingers begin to tap restlessly at his sides. Now, you've pissed him off.
“Don't go puttin’ words in my mouth. That ain’t true and you fuckin’ know it," he all but growls, his body shaking with a turbulent combination of frustration and adrenaline.
You're starting to feel it, too. This conversation is overwhelming both of you, but he still hasn't told you everything. There's a piece missing, keeping all of his disjointed reasonings from adding up. He's holding back and it's time for him to stop.
“Then what is, Joel?" you plead with him to give you a definitive answer. One that finally explains why you had to lose everything. Ellie, your home. The love of your life. "What’s the truth?"
Then, everything he's kept bottled up inside and allowed to poison his happiness claws its way out as a single, unwavering statement.
“I’m too fuckin’ old for you!”
The silence that follows his admission is deafening. You watch in shock as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He's never yelled like that before or looked so defeated. By something as innocuous as his age.
It isn't something you'd ever considered, not before your relationship and never once during. But he did. His bottom lip starts to tremble as he turns and takes a few steps away from you.
“Every day, I’d watch ya…offerin’ to take more shifts, spendin’ time at the school with Ellie and the kids," he says softly, shaking his head as he works through his next words. "And every day, I’d feel it. My body givin’ out on me, more and more. My blood pressure’s up, my goddamn knees are creakin’. Couldn’t even fuckin’ stand up on my own just now."
When he turns back to you, his eyes are wet with unshed tears. He feels too far, but you know you can't go to him, yet. He's not finished.
"You can do better than that. You deserve better than that," his voice cracks and your whole world blurs into a wash of colors. “You’re gonna outlive me by a mile. I’m an old man, darlin’. It wasn’t fair for me to keep ya.”
For a while, you just watch each other. Tears overflow and continuously spill down his cheeks and yours, but neither of you moves to wipe them away.
None of this is fair. You're both miserable and heartbroken, perpetually yearning for a love you've told yourselves you can't have. Months ago, Joel made a choice for both of you. You won't make the same mistake he did.
"I didn't want fair, Joel. I wanted you. A life with you...," your face screws up as you fight back a sob, "...the rest of my life with you, however long that is."
Joel takes a tentative step forward, carefully reaching out to touch you, but stops himself before he can get too close. He looks afraid...of you. Scared of the consequences of allowing you back into his heart.
A sob escapes your chest, then, and you wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly bitterly cold and wanting nothing more than for Joel to hold you. To tell you for the first time since the breakup that he loves you and, regardless of time, won't ever stop.
So, you cross the alleyway and cup his wet cheeks in your hands, wiping away his sadness and, hopefully, his fears. He melts into the poignant familiarity of your touch and it makes you brave. This time, you'll be brave enough for both of you.
"Don't I deserve that?" you whisper, close enough to share his next breath. He watches your lips, hanging onto your every word. "Don't you?"
His eyes meet yours, and it finally happens. The moment Joel gives in and decides to let himself be happy. He nods slowly in your grasp, reaching up to cradle your hand on his cheek.
"Dunno what I deserve, darlin'. Not after the things I've done and the hurt I put ya through. But if I'm...if this is really what ya want...," he hesitates, his voice thick with tears and, yet, still that full-bodied, twang that sounds like home. "I'm yours. 'Til my last breath, I'm yours."
He kisses you before either of you can start crying again, and it's all there. The love he kept under lock and key to protect you, released from the prison of his own making.
His kiss feels different again. There's no hunger or rush, and the possessiveness—the need to devour everything you have to give so there's nothing left for anyone else—is gone. He's sure, now, that there's no one else you'd rather give yourself to.
His arms circle your waist and he pulls you closer, crushing you into time-worn chambray and sullied denim as you continue to explore each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Two lovers learning to give and take for the first time. Time passes slowly in this space you've carved out for yourselves, even as the moon continues to rise in the night sky and floods the corridor with light.
Then, noisily and as if right on cue, the last-call crowd stumbles from the bar and immediately catches what the previous group missed. You and Joel separate, dazed but unhurried, to find that it's them.
It has to be fucking kismet that, of everyone in Jackson, the first to witness your reconciliation would be the biggest blabbermouths in the entire town. The same women who talked shit about you every day for months and constantly vied for Joel's attention, standing there with wide eyes and slack jaws.
Their varied expressions almost make you want to laugh, and you can't help but snort unattractively into Joel's shoulder. Half of them are glaring at you, and the rest look either devastated or genuinely surprised. Guess you were better at hiding your arrangement than you thought, not that it matters anymore. It's a relationship again, and everyone's about to know all about it. Joel clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him.
"Evenin', ladies. S'there somethin' we can help ya with?" he drawls, breaking out the Southern charm that endeared every single one of them to him in the first place.
They all shake their heads, looking a little too pleased with themselves once the initial shock wears off and they realize you've just given them the gossip of the century. After a few fake, high-pitched pleasantries, they slink away as quickly as they came, already chatting to themselves about some shit you'll definitely hear tomorrow at breakfast. You watch them go, feeling oddly liberated.
"Guess the cat's outta the bag, huh?" You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, still chuckling softly to yourself. Joel huffs out a laugh, too, bending down to kiss the crown of your head before nodding in agreement.
"'Fraid so," he muses, amusement and a hint of something lighter glinting in his eyes.
You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time. As he holds you in his arms, he leans a fraction of his weight on you to ease the night's strain on his back and knees, and it makes you feel needed. Relied on. That's new, Joel depending on you like this. Things are going to be different this time around, you can tell. They already are.
You hum, ruminating on what awaits you after your first night back in your own bed, in your own home. What everyone will think and say—to your face and behind your back—when they find out you're back together. Though, the only opinions you give a shit about are Ellie, Tommy, and Maria's, anyway.
So, yeah, you're a lot of things right now: exhausted, yet relieved and so full of hope. But you're not afraid, the cat and the bag be damned.
"I'm not," you tell him honestly as you pull away. You let your hands trail from his shoulders, down his arms, until his hands are in yours.
Tugging gently, you walk him backward out of the alley, away from the bar and plummeting winter chill, and any lingering, prying eyes. Even the moon and stars have no stake in what comes next. This moment, right here and now, belongs to you and Joel, alone.
"Take me home, Joel."
The light in his eyes burns brighter, amusement giving way to adoration and contentment. He's been waiting for this, to be given the privilege of keeping you safe and taking care of you the way he needs to—it's how he shows love.
He slots his fingers between yours and leads you down the empty streets of Jackson.
"Darlin', nothin' would make me happier."
thanks for reading!
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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╰┈➤ my first kiss.
⋙ Embarrassed that you're falling behind your peers, you decide to have your first kiss with someone you meet at the party, but your childhood friend, Eren, really doesn't like that idea. Why would you want to learn how to kiss from some stranger when he can teach you?
ft. eren/reader, minor jean/reader
wc. 17.9k
cw. explicit content - minors do not interact, fem!reader, smut, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex, multiple orgasms, unsafe sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, loss of innocence, corruption kink, loss of virginity, first kiss, friends to lovers, pining, jealousy, praise kink, second person POV
“How far have you gone with a girl?”
Eren chokes on his spit, glancing over at you from the road. “What?”
“How far have you gone?” you repeat. “Y’know, like hand stuff, mouth stuff—“
“No, I know what you mean,” he says, gripping the steering wheel with both hands until his knuckles turn white. “I dated my ex for like three years, so…”
“So…?”
“So, I fucked her,” Eren finishes, feeling his cheeks heat in embarrassment. “Why are you asking that?”
“Because I haven’t done that,” you admit, turning to look out the window, hiding your face from him. “I haven’t done anything with a guy.”
“Ok.” Eren doesn’t know when you’re going with this.
“I feel like I’m so behind everyone else.”
“Because you haven’t had sex?”
“I haven’t even kissed anyone.”
Eren jerks to a stop at the red light, shaking his head in confusion. “What? What about high school?”
“I was too focused on my studies—I never went out with you to parties or anything, remember?”
“Shit, yeah… I guess not.”
“Right!” you whine, turning back to look at Eren. He spares you a glance from the corner of his eyes as he picks up speed, seeing your eyes wide and your lower lip jutted into a pout. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nobody’s going to want to date me if they find out I’m so inexperienced. It just gets worse the older I get!”
Eren snorts, “The right guy isn’t going to care about that.” He feels his heart beat a little harder in his chest as the two of you drive back to his place—are you trying to hint at something? Do you want him to be your first kiss?
“I’m hoping I can meet someone at the party tonight,” you continue, immediately crushing Eren’s hopes. “There’s going to be a lot of your friends there, right? Maybe I can kiss one of them.”
“They’re all idiots,” Eren says quickly. “You don’t want to kiss them.”
“I kinda just want to get it over with.”
Eren bites his tongue from speaking. Are you serious? You’re going to bring this up and then not ask him to be the one to do it with? “You should do it with someone you trust,” he says finally, throat tight. “Someone you’re comfortable with.”
“I don’t have any other guy friends except for you.”
Exactly! Eren wants to scream. “So, you’re just going to pick one of my asshole friends and mack on him tonight?”
You shrug, “That’s the plan.”
Eren makes a strangled noise in his throat as he pulls into his driveway, shifting the car into park before rubbing at his face with his hands. “I don’t get it,” he says, voice muffled.
“I thought it was pretty straightforward,” you say before getting out of the vehicle. Eren watches you walk past the front of the car to the door of his house, hauling your overnight bag with you as you head inside.
Eren waits a few minutes for his heart to stop beating against his ribcage before he follows.
The two of you have been friends since you were kids. You grew up a few houses down from one another, so you spent your childhood running around the neighbourhood with Eren and getting into trouble. You had a bit of a falling out in high school because Eren’s aforementioned ex-girlfriend had an issue with him spending so much time with you, but now that they aren’t together anymore, the two of you have rekindled your friendship—entering your second year of university.
When Eren gets into the house, he sees you chatting with Zeke in the kitchen and immediately scowls. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you here, brat,” Zeke says, smiling warmly. “What trouble has Eren gotten you into, now?”
You laugh, “Eren is taking me to a party tonight.”
Zeke whistles lowly, “Wow, your parents are ok with that? Aren’t they pretty strict?”
“They don’t know.”
“Atta girl,” Zeke hums, gaze shifting over to Eren as Eren leans on the island next to you. “So, she’s spending the night?”
“Yeah, Mom set up the guest room for her already,” Eren says.
“Cute,” Zeke says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He turns to look at you, “You’ve grown up quite a bit since I last saw you.” Eren feels a flare of anger at Zeke’s comment and the way he punctuates it by leering at your breasts—but you don’t even notice, your head is down as you dig through your bag. "You're not a little brat anymore."
“I think the last time I was over was when I was like sixteen,” you say.
“Did you get tired of Eren teasing you all the time?”
You chuckle, “More like, he got tired of me.”
“That’s not how it happened,” Eren says.
He never told you the reason why he stopped talking to you was because of his ex, so of course he never told you that the reason why he started talking to you again was because she was gone. So, you’ve decided yourself that Eren just thought you weren’t cool enough to hang out with him these past few years.
“Childish,” Zeke tsks, finally shifting his gaze to Eren’s and catching his venomous glare. Zeke looks away, feigning innocence.
“I was a child,” Eren says through clenched teeth.
“You’re still a child,” Zeke says with a scoff.
“I’m nineteen.” Zeke hums in consideration, gaze shifting back to your breasts, and Eren decides he’s had enough of his brother’s shameless leering. “Let’s go to my room,” he says, grabbing your bag from the counter and stomping down the stairs to his bedroom, with you following close behind with a huff.
Eren chucks your things onto his bed, waiting for you to walk into his room before slamming the door shut. “Keep the door open when you have a girl in there!” Zeke calls from upstairs, but Eren ignores him.
Just like upstairs, you take a seat on his bed and start rifling through your bag, brows furrowed in concentration. “I need your help deciding on an outfit.”
Eren's whole body feels hot all of a sudden. “Ok,” he says, sitting in his desk chair and spinning it around to face you. “What’ve you got?”
You pull out a tiny, black dress that looks like it was made for a toddler. “I think this one is really sexy, but I’m worried it’ll give off the wrong impression.”
Eren hums and haws in mock consideration. “It’s hard to tell what it’ll look like when you’re just holding it like that… can you put it on for me?”
“Oh, yeah—duh!” you laugh, as if you’re silly for not suggesting the idea yourself. You stand up, curling your fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, moving to pull it up, but then pause and look at Eren with narrowed eyes. “Don’t watch me.”
He thinks about protesting—saying something like, how are you gonna kiss someone if you can’t even undress in front of me?—but he calms his hormones and spins around in his chair until he’s facing the wall. He can hear the drag of your zipper as you undo your pants and the sound of clothing falling to the floor as his face starts to burn.
Eren’s ex had an issue with his friendship with you because she felt like you always came first. If you called, Eren would come running. If you needed something, Eren would already have it for you. Plain and simple—she was jealous of how close the two of you were.
She broke up with Eren because, even though she made him cut you out, he still wouldn’t shut up about you. “If you like her so much, why don’t you date her instead?” she said. And that’s when Eren realized that his feelings for you were more than just platonic.
Was it unusual that he wanted to hug you for a little longer each time? Or that he wanted to hold your hand when the two of you walked alongside each other? It’s completely normal for friends to want to cuddle up together during movie night, and maybe if those cuddles turned into kisses, that would be ok—right?
No. Eren just had a big, fat crush on you and it took his ex-girlfriend’s suggestion to make him realize it.
“Ok, I’m ready,” you say, and Eren spins around to see the dips and curves of your body covered up by a tiny, little dress that barely falls past your ass. “So? How does this look?”
Eren clenches his jaw tightly, taking slow, measured breaths through his nose as he tries to bring some blood back up to his brain. “Slutty,” he says, and you frown.
“That’s what I thought,” you huff, directing him to turn around again to switch outfits. “What about this one?” You pull the second dress over your head quicker than the first. This one is more modest with small flowers decorating the fabric, it falls just above your knees with thin straps resting on your shoulders and a modest neckline.
“This seems more your style,” Eren says after clearing his throat, “I like this one.”
You hum, unconvinced. You take a look at yourself in Eren’s full-length mirror, spinning around gently to watch how your dress lifts as you do. “I’m not sure… it feels too cutesy to me.”
“What’s wrong with cutesy?”
“Boys don’t like cute girls.”
Eren snorts. “What?”
You shoot him a measured look, crossing your arms over your chest and jutting out your hip. “Hitch wasn’t cute. She was a bombshell.”
“Why are you so concerned about my ex?” he asks, hopeful.
“I’m just using her as an example,” you say. “Same with Mikasa and Annie. They’re all hot.”
“Pieck is cute.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“She’s one of the girls in my program,” Eren says, adjusting himself in his seat—discretely tugging the fabric around his crotch to alleviate the strain in his jeans—he feels like a teenager again with you in his room like this. “She’ll be at the party tonight.”
“Do boys like her?”
“She gets a lot of attention,” Eren shrugs.
You sort through your bag again with your back to Eren. This time when you bend over, Eren doesn’t avert his eyes. The bottom hem of the dress rises to mid-thigh, and somehow just this small sliver of skin has Eren sweating under his collar.
“So, she’s my competition,” you say, pulling out a small bag.
“She… uh… what did you say?”
When you turn around Eren quickly looks away, but he catches the way you roll your eyes at him. You settle yourself cross-legged on the floor in front of his mirror and Eren rolls his chair over until he can see your face in the reflection, watching you as you apply makeup.
“Eren, you’re acting weird today.”
“I just think this idea is stupid,” he says, and his heart beats faster in his chest. “If you wanna kiss someone, just kiss me.”
You snort, “Don’t make fun of me.”
Eren rolls his tongue against his cheek, eyes narrowing as he looks at you through the mirror. “Whatever.”
Eren tries to talk you out of going to the party for forty-five minutes before you finally just take his keys and storm off to his car.
“Hey, come on—“ he yells, right on your heels. “I’m just saying, the party’s gonna be stupid. We can just hang out and watch a movie instead.”
“It might be stupid to you, but I’ve never been invited to a party before,” you say, thumbing his fob to unlock the doors. Before you’re able to reach forward for the handle, Eren grabs it first and squeezes his way between you and the car. “Besides, I already got all dressed up.”
Eren looks down at you as sternly as he can muster—lips pressed into a tight, thin line with his brows furrowed—but you look so cute and eager to go, that he concedes. “Fine, whatever. Give me the keys,” he holds out his free hand and you drop them into his palm with a grin, “but as soon as you want to leave, you tell me, ok?”
“Got it!” you cheer, practically skipping around the front of the car and crawling into the front seat. You’re so giddy with excitement that you can’t stop bouncing in your chair.
“You really haven’t been to a party before?” Eren asks, rolling out of his driveway and onto the road, already mourning the memory of you in your underwear in his bedroom.
“Who would I have gone with if not with you?”
“What about Armin?”
“Armin?” you ask, tilting your head. “You really think he’s the type to go to parties in high school?”
“I don’t know,” Eren scoffs, dismissive. “Hey, why don’t you practice kissing with him instead of some random at the party?” Eren teases, kissing the air as you groan in annoyance.
“Armin knows less about kissing than I do. I want to be with someone more experienced—someone who can teach me.”
“You’ve got really specific criteria for this guy. Are you sure you’re gonna be able to find someone?”
“Once I have a few drinks, my standards will lower,” you joke, gesturing to the six-pack at your feet. “Do people really play Spin the Bottle at parties? Or Seven Minutes in Heaven?”
“Not really.”
You sulk in your seat, whispering a quiet, “Aw, man.”
Eren clenches his hands around the steering wheel, rolling his palms back and forth until they squeak against the leather. “Look, there’s going to be a lot of bad guys at the party—guys that might try to take advantage of you—so let me know who you pick for your Big Kiss before you lock lips,” he says through clenched teeth.
“What do you mean: take advantage of me?”
“I mean, they might make you do something you’re not comfortable with.”
“Like, tongue?”
“Like hand stuff,” Eren says, shooting you a glance from the corner of his eyes, “or mouth stuff. Or maybe even all the way.”
“At a party? But there’s people there!”
Eren clicks his tongue, “If someone asks you to go somewhere private, he probably wants to do more than just kiss you.”
You bring your hand up to your lips, ghosting your fingers across your mouth as you stare wide-eyed out at the road before you. “Wow, so I could lose my virginity tonight, too?”
“Take this seriously,” Eren snaps.
“What makes you think I’m not?”
“I think you’re making a mistake giving away your first kiss to some stranger.”
“Who cares, Eren? I’ve decided I’m going to do this, so I’m going to do it—stop being so weird about it.”
Eren groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to calm himself down.
“Ok, fine,” you whisper. “I’ll run my choice by you before the Big Kiss.”
Eren’s grip loosens around the steering wheel. “I’m just looking out for you after being a jerk for the past few years.”
“Yeah, I know, Eren,” you say. “Thank you.”
Connie’s parents own property just outside the city. It’s about a thirty-minute drive from Eren’s house, down a dirt road with no street lights. If you’re unfamiliar with the road, it can feel very spooky—and Eren senses your unease by the way you chew your lip and wring your hands together.
“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” he assures you, and you hum in acknowledgment. “Just be grateful you got invited to a house party and not a pit party.”
“What’s a pit party?”
“It’s when we all get drunk in a gravel pit outside of town.” You look over and Eren in disbelief and he laughs. “We get some of the guys with trucks to drive out pallets so we can burn them for warmth.”
“Really? Isn’t that dangerous?”
Eren shrugs, “Probably.”
“How do you get home?”
“I don’t. I usually tent overnight.”
Your jaw drops. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not. There’s not many pit parties because the cops always shut them down if they catch wind, but they’re a blast.”
“You’re insane,” you laugh, and it makes Eren grin. “So, that’s what you were doing instead of studying during high school.”
“Hey, I did ok,” he says with a chuckle. “Are you nervous about the party?”
“A little,” you admit, biting your lower lip. “Not so much about the party itself, but more about… well… you know.”
“The Big Kiss?”
“Yeah,” you nod, exhaling shakily. “I’m worried I’m going to embarrass myself.”
“Then don’t have your first kiss when you’re drunk at a party with some stranger,” Eren scolds, brows furrowing.
“I wish you’d be more supportive about this.” You cross your arms over your chest with a huff, pouting in Eren’s seat like a child.
Well… at least you don’t seem nervous anymore.
Eren pulls into Connie’s long, gravel driveway that’s already filled with cars. He parks behind Reiner’s truck and gestures for you to follow him as he leads the way up to the house.
From outside, the music and voices of the people inside are muffled, but Eren can see a group of people chatting in the living room by the window, and when they catch sight of him, they all start cheering.
He opens the door to the cry of, “Eren!” from several nearby guests. Arms pull him into hugs, palms slapping his back, and suddenly he has a cracked drink in his hand as the crowd sweeps him away. For a split second, he forgets about you—but then he turns and snatches your wrist, dragging you with him as he’s steered into the kitchen.
“I’m so glad you came, man!” Connie says, a joint hanging from between his lips. “I thought you weren’t going to make it out tonight.”
“Jaeger never misses a party,” Jean scoffs, clapping Eren in the back.
“Just running a little late, that’s all,” Eren shrugs.
“Reiner was looking for you, he wants to play beer pong against us later tonight,” Jean says. “He’s convinced that this time he’s actually going to beat us.”
Connie laughs, puffs of smoke spilling from his mouth as he does. “Reiner would win if he didn’t always make Berthold his partner—that guy can’t aim for shit.”
“You’d think he’d have some sort of advantage because of his height,” Sasha chimes, giggly, “but it just makes him even more uncoordinated.”
You clear your throat softly and Eren watches as Jean and Connie’s attention shifts over to you—as if in slow motion, he sees the way their eyes scan your face, down to your chest, and then your thighs, before back up to your face.
“Who’s this babe you’re with, Jaeger?” Connie asks, brows raising. Jean runs his tongue across his lower lip and Eren feels his jaw tensing.
Eren wants to step in front of you to shield you from their lecherous gaze, but you stand a little taller from the attention, smiling wide as you introduce yourself.
Connie extends a hand out to shake with yours and Eren thinks about swatting it away. “Connie Springer,” he says.
“I know who you are,” you smile, but you shake his hand. You nod over at Jean, then Sasha, “And you’re Jean Kirstein and Sasha Braus. Eren talks about you guys all the time.”
“We’ve been friends since we were kids,” Eren explains. “We grew up together, so I’ve known her forever. She goes to school with us, but in a different program.”
“Oh, ok!” Sasha says, pleased with the explanation. She cocks her head to the side, lips pursed as she surveys your appearance. “You’re like, really pretty!”
“You go to the same school as us?” Jean asks, looking down at you curiously. “I think I’d notice someone like you.”
“I’m pretty shy,” you say.
“You don’t look shy.” You giggle, ducking your head slightly behind Eren’s shoulder and Jean shifts his gaze up to Eren’s face, eyes narrowing. “Are you two together?”
Eren doesn’t get a chance to respond before you chirp, “No, we’re just friends!”
“Oh, so he was trying to keep you for himself,” Jean says, and Eren feels his anger flare up. “Very childish, Jaeger,” he teases.
“Shut the fuck up, Kirstein,” Eren mocks, and Jean scowls at him.
“Do you know how to play beer pong?” Connie asks, nodding toward the free table in the living room. “Wanna play?”
“I’ve never played before, but I’m happy to learn!”
Connie leads you over to the beer pong table with Jean and Eren close on your heels, leaving Sasha behind in the kitchen to raid the Springer’s snack cabinet. He arranges the red solo cups into a triangle shape as Jean and Eren do the same on the opposite end of the table. “The point of the game is to sink your ball into one of the cups on the other side,” Connie explains. “If you get it in, then the other team has to drink.”
You nod in understanding, watching closely as Connie dunks a ping pong ball into one of your cups, coating it in water before handing it to you.
“Give it a shot,” Connie smiles.
You stick the tip of your tongue out in concentration, squinting one eye shut before throwing your ball toward the opposite end of the table. You completely undershoot, hitting the table instead, and the ball dribbles toward the cups without any hope of getting in.
“That wasn’t bad,” Connie says encouragingly, “but you need a little more power and a little more arc.”
“Arc?” you repeat, curious.
“Here, let me show you.”
Eren’s vision clouds as he watches Connie step behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other ghosts over your hand. He whispers something into your ear as he guides you through the motions of tossing the ball, and whatever he says has you giggling and squirming in his grip.
Connie guides you through tossing the ball and it hits one of Eren’s cups, swirling around the rim just above the water. Jean sticks his fingers into the cup and flicks the ball out and onto the floor.
“Did I get it?” you ask, hopeful.
“Nah, I fingered it out,” Jean says, “doesn’t count.”
“I fuckin’ hate that rule,” Connie groans, stepping away from you and back into position in front of the table. “Fingering is so hard.”
“I don’t want to play it either,” Eren says, relaxing now that Connie’s put some distance between the two of you.
“Let’s let our new guest decide,” Jean suggests, extending a hand out for you to speak. “What do you think?”
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, glancing between each of the boys. “Um… what’s fingering?”
Eren hears the sharp inhale Jean takes from your comment and watches how he stands up a little taller before speaking. “It’s when you put your fingers into the cup—like this—and flick out the ball.” Jean makes a show out of it, running his fingers along the rim of the cup before dipping them inside, gently flicking the water before pulling out his dripping fingers. Eren can see you gulping nervously from across the table from the sight.
“Oh,” you say.
“But girls can’t do that,” Jean continues, “you have to blow.”
“Blow?”
“Yeah. Just lean forward and blow into the cup—why don’t you try it?”
“No!” Eren snaps, crushing the ball in his hand. “Let’s just play the fucking game, stop fucking around.”
After swapping out the ball Eren ruined, the four of you continue to play—and it’s not a close game. Eren and Jean are incredibly good at beer pong, Connie is too high to function, and you can hardly hit any cups. You and Connie quickly drop to four cups while Jean and Eren still have all six.
“You guys really need to land a shot,” Jean says, feigning sympathy. “Otherwise you’re going to have to do a naked mile.”
“What’s that?” you ask, turning to Connie.
“Exactly what it sounds like—run a mile naked.”
You frown from his response, looking across the table at Eren for sympathy. “Nobody’s going to make you do that,” he assures, but Jean scoffs at his side.
“Hey, can we get a rearrange?” Jean asks, gesturing to the wonky formation of the remaining cups. “Give us a rhombus.”
Connie leans into your side but whispers loud enough to be heard across the table. “What the fuck is a rhombus?”
“It’s like a squished square,” Jean says, and he directs you as you move the cups into place before throwing his ball into the upper left cup.
After you fish the ball out, Eren lines up his shot and sinks his ball into the same cup. With a cheer, Eren can't resist high-fiving Jean as Connie groans. He fishes out the ball, removes three cups from play, and rolls the ball back across the table, gesturing for you to do the same.
“What happened?” you ask.
“If they both sink it into the same cup, it’s three cups out and balls back,” Connie explains, sighing as Jean lines up his shot. “They’re gonna win this.”
Jean misses his shot with a loud, “Fuck!” and Eren intentionally overshoots. He’s trying to give your team a chance to get a cup so there’s no chance of you doing a naked mile, but it’s no use because you and Connie both miss your shots.
Eren rolls the ball between his palms, wishing for the first time that his partner will flub the shot—but Jean’s got great aim, and he manages to sink it. Eren intentionally ices the ball again to give you and Connie a chance for redemption.
“Did we lose?” you ask, looking over at Connie as he hands you a ball.
“We get two chances to get it in. If we do, then we’re in the clear, but if we both miss, then it’s game over.” You frown at his explanation, looking down at the ball in your hand before glancing across the table at the six cups lined up in front of Eren and Jean.
“I just wanna get it in,” you say.
“I bet you do,” Jean whispers under his breath, hiding his mouth behind his beer, and following it up with a slow sip.
“Why don’t you take both shots?” Connie offers, handing over his ball to you as well. “I’m not much better, and that’ll make your odds a little better.”
You smile at him gratefully before lining up your shot. You follow all of the instructions that the boys gave you throughout the game: line up your arm with the edge of the table, hinge at the elbow instead of throwing with your arm, arc it into the cup…
But you miss.
Jean runs his tongue across his teeth, chuckling as he catches your ball. “If you miss this one, you’re gonna have to do a naked mile.”
“No, you don’t,” Eren says through gritted teeth.
You shake out your limbs, loosening your nerves. You bounce a few times on your feet to get out any extra energy and Eren watches the way your tits jump with every hop. After a long, slow breath, you line up your second shot.
“Oh, shit! You got it!” Eren cheers, watching the ball perfectly arc into the air and into one of his cups. “Great work!”
You throw your arms up in the air with a cheer, twisting to the side to wrap them around Connie’s shoulders as you pull him in for a tight hug. Connie’s arms wrap around your lower back, squeezing you tightly before gently lifting you off the ground.
“Ok, cool it,” Eren hisses, “you guys only won redemption.” But Connie spins you around like the two of you just won the game.
When he finally sets you back down, it’s Jean and Eren’s turn, and Jean easily gets the final ball in again. This time, you aren’t able to get a successful redemption shot, so you and Connie lose the game.
“That’s a naked mile!” Jean hoots, clapping his hands.
“No, it’s not. She got the ball in—they’re fine,” Eren argues.
Jean gestures to the six cups arranged in a perfect triangle on the table. “What do you mean? I don’t see any missing cups.”
“She got the redemption shot.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“Hey, it’s my house, and I decide that it counts! No naked mile!” Connie yells, and the small group of people that had gathered around the table to watch start booing. “Oh, fuck off!”
Eren breathes out a sigh of relief knowing that you won’t be running around the house naked, but when he turns to look at you, he sees that Jean has already made his way over to you. He’s shaking your hand, whispering into your ear, and rubbing your back with his free hand.
Oh, hell no.
Eren starts charging over to you so he can pull Jean off of you when his path is blocked by a big, broad blonde. “Eren! Let’s go, it’s our turn to play you,” Reiner says.
“Dude, I can’t right now,” Eren says, trying to push past him, but suddenly Berthold is standing there, too, blocking Eren even more. “Hey, can you guys move aside—”
“Come on, Eren. Don’t be lame, let’s play!”
“Yeah, ok—just give me a sec—can you get out of the way?” Eren ends up pushing his way past Berthold and Reiner to find Jean’s face in your neck and his arms wrapped around your waist. You’re pressed up on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your body into him completely.
He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, trying to calm his anger, before reaching forward and ripping Jean’s arms off of your body. Jean stumbles back, frowning down at Eren. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem?” Eren feels hysterical—this isn’t happening. “I’m just—”
Just then, your arms wrap around Eren’s waist, tugging him into a tight hug and Eren feels like all the air has just been sucked out of his lungs. You bury your face into his chest with a happy sigh and Eren finds himself carefully resting his arms around your body, holding you close and pressing his nose against the top of your head.
The two of you have never touched like this before—it’s always been strictly platonic—despite his desire to be more physically affectionate. The most physical contact the two of you have ever had was probably just a high-five, so Eren’s shocked to suddenly feel the warmth of your body against his.
He can feel you murmuring something into his chest, but he can’t quite hear you. Eren cups the bottom of your jaw in his hand, tilting your face out of his chest until your chin rests on his sternum. You smile up at him drunkenly. “He’s the one I want,” you say, and Eren feels his world crashing around him, “Jean.”
“No, you can’t,” he says. “He’s not—don’t do it—he’s not the one you wanna do this with.” Eren looks down at you with furrowed brows, holding you tight against his body as if he can physically restrain you from doing this—from kissing Jean.
“I want to,” you giggle, and you turn your head to look over at Jean, resting your cheek on Eren’s chest.
Jean’s still standing right there—grinning right next to you and Eren as Eren holds you close. Eren shoots Jean a deadly look, to which Jean responds by taking a step back. “Hey, come on, Jaeger. Let’s play with Reiner.”
Eren only agrees because playing beer pong with Jean means that he’s not taking you somewhere private and stealing your first kiss—so the two boys return to their spot to play against Reiner and Berthold while Connie and Sasha keep you company.
Connie is still openly hitting on you, but he’s stoned now, so he’s not talking as smoothly as he thinks he is, much to Eren’s relief. And Sasha is feeding you chips she found in the cupboard, which is helping to sober you up after the drinks you had during beer pong. A few other people come over to introduce themselves to you throughout the game, but nobody sticks around to chat.
Jean and Eren are cleaning the floor with Reiner and Berthold in this game of beer pong. They’re down to just one cup and there’s a good chance that Jean will get it on his next shot, but rather than taking the shot right away, Jean whistles for your attention and then beckons you over.
“If I get this one in, what do I get?” he asks, leaning down to speak into your ear. Eren feels his shoulders and neck tense as he watches you giggle into your hand.
“Um… I don’t know, what do you want?” you ask, batting your eyelashes up at him. You’re not even doing it on purpose—but with the height difference, you have to tilt your head almost all the way up to look at Jean’s face. It makes you look small and innocent, especially compared to Jean’s almost sinister smirk.
He runs his tongue across his lower lip, passing the ball between each of his hands as he pretends to think it over. “Hmm… what about a kiss?”
Eren watches your throat bob as you swallow nervously and he considers stepping between the two of you—but this is what you want. You’re his friend, he should be supportive of you and your decisions, even if he likes you—especially if he likes you.
You tug your lip between your teeth to bite back your grin as you nod up at Jean. “Ok—yeah, I’ll give you a kiss.”
“Perfect,” he purrs, standing up tall again. He wraps one arm around your waist to hold you close at his side while he raises his hand to take the shot. It’s no coincidence that Eren happens to lose his balance at this exact moment and stumbles into Jean, causing him to fumble the shot with a groan. “What the fuck, man?”
“Sorry,” Eren says, not sorry at all. He takes his final shot and sinks it into the final cup, and Berthold and Reiner don’t have a chance at redemption.
The crowd cheers, Reiner demands a rematch, blah, blah, blah—none of that matters when Eren realizes that you (and Jean) have disappeared from his side. He frantically looks around the room, alarmed at how quickly the two of you were able to sneak away from him, but he catches Jean’s signature mullet disappearing into the kitchen and Eren charges after him, knowing that he’ll find you there, too.
And as expected, he sees you giggling into Jean’s chest as his hands reach down to your hips, lifting you off the ground and onto the kitchen counter, “So, where’s my kiss?” Jean hums, leaning toward your face. Eren loudly clears his throat and Jean’s entire back tenses with annoyance before his eyes shift over to Eren. “Can I help you?”
“Reiner wants to play again, let’s rerack.”
“I think I’m done with beer pong for tonight.”
“Come on, double or nothing.”
“Eren, I’m good.” Jean makes a point of jerking his head in your direction as he stares at Eren with a stern expression.
Eren pretends like he doesn’t get the hint and steps closer, hopping up to sit on the counter next to you and swinging his feet. “What do you think of the party so far?” he asks as Jean steps back with a huff.
“I’m having a lot of fun,” you grin, holding your drink in your lap with both hands. “It’s not like the movies, but it’s still a lot of fun—it’s nice meeting everyone.”
“Some of my friends are really nice,” Eren says with a strained smile.
Jean clears his throat loudly, reminding the two of you that he’s still standing right there. “Hey, Eren, I think I heard Reiner calling for you in the other room.”
Eren tilts his head to look at Jean, his expression blank. “I didn’t hear anything.” Then he returns his gaze back to you, “So, do you want to play any more games? We might be able to get a round of Flip Cup going or something.”
“Ooo, what’s that?”
“Ok, fuck this,” Jean huffs under his breath before taking a step forward. He cages you against the counter with his arms on either side of your hips as he steps between your parted thighs, blocking Eren out of the conversation. He leans forward to whisper something into your ear, so quietly that Eren can’t hear, and you giggle in response when he leans away. “When you’re done talking with Eren, come find me upstairs,” Jean says with a wink before walking off.
“Upstairs?” Eren can’t hide his shock. “Upstairs?!”
You giggle again, kicking your feet in excitement before hopping down off of the counter. “He says he wants to kiss me.”
“Oh, he wants to do a lot more than that,” Eren spits. “You’ve known him for like two minutes, what the fuck?”
“I told you, I wanted to kiss someone at the party tonight.”
“But Jean?”
You shrug, “He seems nice.”
“He’s not. I heard from one of the guys from his hometown that he used to be a real fuckin’ bully in high school. I mean like, stuffing guys in lockers and stealing their lunch money, type shit.”
“That sounds made up,” you say, frowning. “Besides, he’s been nice to me all night.”
Eren sputters around a response—shocked. You’re not seriously going to go through with this, are you?
You hold your hands up in surrender. “I’m obviously not going to do anything I don’t feel comfortable doing with him, ok? You don’t have to worry about me. If he gets too pushy, I’ll tell him to stop.”
“How far do you plan on going? Are you going to lose your fucking virginity to him, too?”
Your eyes widen in alarm and you reach forward to clamp your palms over Eren’s mouth. “Hey! You don’t have to broadcast that I’m a loser to everyone at the party!”
He swats your hands away easily. “You’re not a loser for not having done anything with anyone—stop saying that. Don’t be in such a rush to have these experiences with some random person when you can wait for the right guy and have all of your firsts with him. It’ll be more special if it’s with someone you trust—someone you love.”
“I didn’t realize you were such a romantic,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “The whole concept of virginity and purity is just a social construct, anyway—none of it matters. But I’m tired of feeling like I’m less than just because I’m in university and I haven’t done things that other people have done in high school.”
“Who’s making you feel less than?” Eren asks, brows furrowing. “Don’t let what other people think dictate your actions.”
You sigh, relaxing your shoulders. “You’re right, I shouldn’t… but I am—so, please let me do this.”
Eren presses his face into his palms in frustration. He rubs his face harshly before running his hands up and through his hair, taking a long, deep breath. “I’m sorry. You don’t need my permission to do anything—go for it.” He forces a smile and shoots you a double thumbs up, and he can tell by the look on your face that you’re not quite convinced.
“Whatever, Eren. I’ll come find you later, ok?”
Eren nods, clasping his hands together and stuffing them between his thighs as he curls forward into himself, defeated.
He doesn’t know exactly how to communicate the way he feels about you and it’s freaking him out. You’ve always been the most important person in his life and the years he couldn’t be with you because of his ex were easily the worst years of his life. He’s angry that you want to waste your first kiss on one of his asshole friends because he wants you to be with him. And at this point, he knows he’s already making a fool of himself from how he’s been going out of his way to sabotage things between you and any guy that looks at you for longer than two seconds.
How much worse could things get if he was just honest with you? If he chased after you and told you explicitly how he felt and why he’s been acting so weird tonight—maybe you’ll take pity on him and just kiss him.
He could be ok with that.
Eren hops off the kitchen counter, determined to stop you before anything happens between you and Jean. He climbs up the stairs two at a time and is faced with a hallway full of doors—you and Jean are nowhere to be seen. Did you two really have that much of a head start on him? But it doesn’t matter, Eren knows which room is Connie’s, so he marches down the hallway and swings open the door—
But there’s no one there.
He sucks in a sharp breath through his nostrils, gazing around the room in case the two of you are hidden away somewhere, but no luck. Eren steps out of the bedroom and walks instead into the bathroom, swinging the door open to find an unfortunate party guest curled up in a ball on the floor next to a toilet filled with puke. Eren wrinkles his nose at the sight, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him. Where else could you be?
Through some stroke of luck, Eren hears the sound of giggling from the room behind him—your giggling. He swings open the door to Connie’s parent's bedroom to find Jean laid out on the bed with you straddling his lap.
The two of you jolt when the bedroom door swings against the wall and Jean sits up on his forearms, visibly annoyed. “What the fuck!”
“Eren? What are you doing here?”
“Yeah, Eren, what are you doing here?” Jean asks, holding you firmly down on his lap when you make a move to crawl off—the action turns Eren’s vision red.
“Jean, you—um—” Eren flounders around an excuse, taking another step into the bedroom as he watches the way your hands reach for Jean’s—have the two of you kissed yet? “Uh… Floch’s in the bathroom upstairs, he’s asking for you.”
“Um, ok? I’m a little busy.” Jean gestures to you perched on his lap—like it’s obvious—before rocking you down onto his lap. Your eyes widen in surprise and you lose your balance, falling forward with your palms on Jean’s chest.
Eren wonders if he’s capable of getting away with murder.
“We have to leave, Zeke’s on his way to pick us up,” Eren says, reaching forward and grabbing your wrist.
“Already? We haven’t been here that long,” you protest, glancing between Eren and Jean with your lip between your teeth.
“Yeah, he said it’s now or never,” Eren says, and you start to crawl off of Jean’s lap. “I don’t want to pay for a cab.”
“Eren, what the fuck is going on?” Jean groans, sitting up fully and grabbing a pillow to cover his crotch when you climb back to your feet next to Eren.
“So sorry, Jean,” Eren sighs, relieved that you’re coming with him. “We gotta go—have a good night!”
“Whatever,” Jean hisses, flopping back onto the bed just as Eren walks you out into the hallway with him.
He tries to sneak you out of the party as best as he can—avoiding Reiner and Berthold so he doesn’t get dragged into another game, avoiding Connie because Eren knows he’s interested in you too, and just avoiding as much of the crowd as possible before slipping you out of the back door.
He has your wrist in a vice grip as you walk down Connie’s driveway back to Eren’s car. You stumble over your feet and you struggle to keep up with him as Eren charges down the road. “Eren! You’re hurting me! Let go!”
Like he’s been jolted with electricity, he drops your hand and pauses, staring at you with wide eyes. “Oh—shit, I’m sorry. Are you ok?”
You frown up at him, rubbing your wrist with your opposite hand. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I told you—we have to go.”
“No, Eren. You’ve been acting weird all night—just tell me what’s going on.”
He balls his hands into tight fists at his side, scrunching up his face as he tries to think of what to say—how to explain himself. He was so riled up in the kitchen about telling you how he felt, but now that you’re standing here in front of him—furious he cockblocked you—it’s hard for him to put his thoughts into words.
“Zeke said he’s on his way. I didn’t want you to get left behind,” he says, mentally kicking himself for chickening out.
The two of you walk in silence for the remainder of the way back to the car (where Eren texts Zeke to come pick you both from the party), grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the flat in his trunk before settling into the car. He turns on the ignition just to get the heat going while you curl up on the seat beside him, nursing your bottle of water.
“I didn’t kiss him,” you sigh, and Eren feels his body relax for the first time tonight. “Mission failed.”
“That’s ok,” Eren hums, drinking from his bottle of water. “There will be other parties.”
“Yeah,” you sigh again, resting your head on the backrest as you look over at Eren beside you. “You were right though, it was a really stupid plan. I was so excited when Jean and I were flirting at the party, but when we were alone in the bedroom together I felt kinda… scared.”
Eren frowns. “Scared? Did he hurt you?”
“No, no, of course not,” you dismiss quickly, shaking your head. “I just… I felt like I didn’t really want to be there anymore but I felt bad because he was, um…”
“He was what?”
You gesture vaguely at your lap, refusing to meet Eren’s eyes. “Um… he was… hard.”
Eren snorts, rolling his eyes and taking another drink from his bottle. “He’ll survive. You don’t owe him anything just because his dick got a little excited.”
You laugh around the bottle as you take another sip. After a few loud gulps, you put the now empty bottle in one of Eren’s cupholders and brush away the spilled water on your chin with the heel of your hand. “I just… I don’t know, I woke up this morning and I decided that I was tired of being so inexperienced, but you were right, I shouldn’t have tried to rush it.”
“Did you have fun, at least?”
“Oh, yeah—I had loads of fun,” you grin up at him and Eren feels his heart rate quicken. “Thank you for bringing me with you, I had a really good time, even though I never got to kiss Jean.”
“I hear he’s a bad kisser anyway,” Eren says, and you snort.
“I wouldn’t have known.”
“I guess not.”
You sit up in your seat and look over at Eren. You scan over his face, his chest, his hands on the steering wheel—it makes him a little uncomfortable to sit with your gaze like this, and he shifts awkwardly in his seat. “What are you looking at?”
“I never feel uncomfortable when I’m around you.”
He chuckles anxiously, lowering his gaze down to his lap. “Uh, I would hope not. We’ve been friends forever.”
“Well, I mean, even around Armin I feel a little awkward sometimes… but I’m not like that when I’m around you.”
Eren fiddles with his rings, spinning them off of his fingers and then twisting them back on. “Yeah, I always feel comfortable when I’m around you.” Except for right now. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest from the attention you’re giving him right now. There’s just something about the way that you’re looking at him that’s getting Eren’s hopes up.
“Who was your first kiss?”
“My ex,” he says, risking a glance over at you, “why?”
“How did you know what to do?”
“I don’t know… we kind of just figured it out together.” Eren feels uncomfortable talking about her with you like this.
“Do you think about it a lot?”
He snorts, running a hand through his hair. “No, I don’t think about it at all.”
“So, your first kiss wasn’t special.”
“I guess not,” Eren says as he looks over at you with a frown. “Her and I aren’t really friends anymore and I don’t wanna get back together with her, so I don’t really think about her anymore.”
“Do you regret it?”
He laughs nervously, running his palms across his thighs as he tries to stretch out in the confines of the car. “You’re asking a lot of difficult questions.”
“I’m just trying to understand.”
“I didn’t regret it at the time, but now, I kind of wish I had done it with someone that was more important to me.”
“Like who?”
Eren looks over at you. You’re perched in your seat, leaning forward onto the centre console with wide eyes and plush, moist lips. He feels his face soften as he looks at you—as he imagines his first kiss with you—but he doesn’t say anything. The tension in the car is thick as the two of you sit there staring at one another. He can hear each soft breath you take and if he looks closely, he can see the way your pupils dilate as you look into his eyes.
“Can I kiss you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
He sucks his cheeks into his mouth, making quick, little nods as he tries to keep his cool while his heart threatens to burst out of his chest. “Thought you said you didn’t want to.”
“I thought you were just making fun of me earlier… but… if you’re into it—”
“Yeah, I’m into it.”
“I trust you more than anyone,” you say, as if trying to justify it but Eren’s already sold.
He tosses his empty bottle into the backseat and then quickly leans forward on the centre console, toward you—but you jerk back and away from him. “Shit, sorry,” he hisses, sitting back in his seat.
You laugh nervously. “Uh, no… it’s ok, I’m just—I’m new to this, right? So, I just need you to be…”
“Slow,” he finishes for you, and you nod. He swallows thickly, leaning forward again—slowly this time—and rests there for a moment until you lean toward him. He can tell you’re nervous, too. Little beads of sweat dot your hairline and your breathing is quick and shallow. Not that Eren is the picture of composure right now, either. He can feel the burn of embarrassment in his cheeks and his back feels slick with sweat—but he tries to hold it together. “Do you want me to lean in or…?”
You raise your hands to his face, ghosting around his head before pulling them back against your chest. “I don’t know where to put my hands.”
Eren reaches forward to grab your wrist—slow and gentle—and guides your hand up to his face, cupping his jaw in your palm. “Hold me like this, and then with your other hand, uh…” he guides it to his chest, pressing your hand right over his heart. “Here, see? Can you feel my heartbeat? I’m just as nervous as you are.”
You laugh and lean in a little further. “Why are you nervous?”
Because I like you.
“I don’t know,” he says.
Eren cups your opposite jaw with his hand, tilting your face slightly to the side, and running his thumb across the warmth on your cheek. He leans in a little further, brushing his nose against yours, and he hears your breath catch in your throat. “Are you ready?”
“I… I think so,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.
Eren closes the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours in a soft, chaste kiss. You’re a little stiff—a little awkward—as you lean into the kiss. Your lips are so rigidly puckered that there’s almost no intimacy in it at all. He holds like that for a moment—despite every muscle in his body urging him to try to deepen the kiss—before pulling away just enough to speak.
“Try to relax your lips a little bit.” He tilts his head until his lips are pressed against the palm of your hand and he demonstrates the motion by softly kissing your hand, “Like this.”
“Ok,” you whisper, breath hot against his cheek.
The second time he moves in to kiss you is already significantly better than before, your lips are soft when Eren presses against you, but you’re not quite kissing back. He tries to deepen the kiss by pressing into you a little harder, moving his lips against yours, and breathing in your scent, but you’re giving him… nothing.
“Try to copy what I’m doing,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. “Like you’re trying to kiss my lower lip, over and over again.”
You hum in response and awkwardly start to follow his motions and this—this!—is exactly what he wants. He applies a little more pressure as the two of you move together and the longer you kiss, the more comfortable and soft you become. You lean more into Eren’s body, clutching his t-shirt with one hand while the other curls around the back of his neck. Eren slides his hand to the back of your head to pull you closer and he’s rewarded by a soft moan that jolts electricity straight down his spine.
“Can I—can I use my tongue?” he asks, breathless. Right, he’s supposed to come up for air every once in a while.
You take a few deep breaths, lashes fluttering as you look up into his eyes, and then back down to his lips. You brush your nose against his, eager. “Yeah—please.”
This next kiss is hungry—Eren’s quickly beginning to lose his composure. Although you’re a little uncoordinated at first, you’re a quick learner, and soon Eren’s hand is gripping the hair on the back of your head, tugging gently and drawing out louder and louder moans from you. With the addition of his tongue in your mouth, it’s all too easy for him to imagine things going further with you.
He pictures looming overtop of you in the backseat of his car, your thighs on either side of his hips. He pictures sliding his hand up the bottom hem of the dress he helped you pick out, fingertips brushing against that soft, wet spot between your legs while you whine into his mouth.
The thought has him groaning into you, shifting his lips away from yours to pepper kisses along your jawline. You’re panting heavily in his ear, still clutching his shirt tightly as you struggle to catch your breath. Eren presses his lips just behind your ear before trailing his mouth down the column of your neck and with his lips against your pulse point, he can feel how quickly your heart is beating.
You squirm in your seat, “Eren, that… it feels good.”
He hums against your throat, gently sinking his teeth into the skin to the sound of your moans before swiping his tongue across the mark. “Is there anything else you want me to teach you,” he asks, breathless.
“Yeah, um…” you pull away from this kiss, looking up at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes. You drag your hand down his chest, resting on his belt as Eren holds his breath. Your gaze drops to Eren’s lap—to the strain of his cock against his jeans.
“You can touch it if you want,” he whispers, and your hand shifts to his thigh. He feels like he’s the virgin here, as your hand gently ghosts across the bulge in his pants. He’s desperate for you to touch him, but at the same time, he’s worried that he’s going to immediately lose it.
You hesitate, looking down at Eren’s cock with shaky breaths. Just as Eren thinks you’re going to pull your hand away, you gently lower it onto his cock and he groans from the warmth of your palm.
“Oh!” you squeak, surprised. “It’s hard.”
Eren laughs, “Yeah, that’s all because of you.”
You wrinkle your nose at him but gently squeeze him through his jeans before softly moving up and down his length. Eren throws his head back, gritting his teeth as his hips buck against your hand—he’s about to fucking cum from an over-the-pants handjob.
“Does it hurt?”
“Definitely not,” he responds through clenched teeth.
“Can I see it?”
Eren sucks in another sharp breath, quickly moving his hands to his belt buckle as he works on undoing it. “Yeah, yeah—of course, you can,” he says, fumbling with the strap as he tries to free it from the clasp.
HOOOOOOOOOONK!
The two of you jolt in surprise, jumping against either end of the car when you hear a loud car horn from nearby. Annoyed, Eren wipes his palm across the window to clear the steam on the glass and is met with Zeke grinning at him from the car beside Eren’s. He makes a point to wave before he lays on the horn again.
HOOOOOOOOOONK!
“We’re coming! We’re coming!”
He turns back to you with a huff, running both hands through his hair to try to calm himself down as he looks at you apologetically, but you’re already working on the door and heading out—leaving Eren alone in the heat of the car, and Eren has to sit with his forehead against the steering wheel until his boner goes away.
“You got here fast,” he huffs, slamming the door behind him as he crawls into the backseat of Zeke’s car.
“When my brother calls, I answer,” Zeke says, smirking at Eren from the rearview window and he backs out of Connie’s driveway. “What were the two of you doing in the car? I thought you were here for a party.”
“I got a little too drunk,” you lie easily, smoothing your dress over your lap, keeping your head down. “Eren got me a bottle of water and we were just hanging out until the spins went away.”
“Ah, that’s right—it was your first party, so your first time drinking, too?”
“I’ve had wine for special occasions with dinner, but I’ve never gotten drunk before.”
Zeke hums in approval, “And Eren took care of you? That’s surprising.”
Eren’s knee bounces in the backseat, gently rattling the car as Zeke drives through the country and back to the highway. If Zeke hadn’t arrived, you could be holding Eren’s cock in your hands right now. He could be teaching you how to stroke him—show you how to spit on it to get it nice and slick.
But instead, Eren’s stuck in the backseat with sore balls while you’re sobering up in the front. You’ll probably run up to bed as soon as you get home, leaving Eren to jerk himself off in the basement while he thinks about how soft your lips felt against his.
He rests his head against the cool window pane and watches the trees rush by as you and Zeke talk to one another quietly in the front seat. Eren wonders if you had gotten as worked up as he did during your makeout session, or if it was all just for the sake of learning.
Were you still thinking about the way his body felt against yours? The way your breath hitched when Eren kissed down your neck or how much you loved getting your hair pulled? Did all that kissing make you wet for him, squirming in the front seat to hide your discomfort from Eren’s older brother as you tried to hold a conversation about school?
He hopes that you can forget about this all in the morning—that the two of you can just go back to the way things were before and pretend it never happened. Maybe you’ll end up messaging Jean and kissing him the way Eren taught you.
The thought makes him bristle, but he tries to push the feeling away.
When Zeke parks the car at the Jaeger residence, he gently reminds you both that the guest room is upstairs with a knowing smirk. Eren just rolls his eyes—not like anything is going to happen between the two of you.
“Goodnight, guys,” Eren says, whispering in the darkness of his home as you follow Zeke upstairs. He lingers by the base of the stairs until you disappear around the corner, and then with a frustrated sigh, Eren makes his descent into the basement.
He flops face-first onto his bed with a groan, already feeling the ache in his cock from the memory of your lips against his. Eren rolls over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling of his room as he works on the buckle of his belt, finding it much easier to undo without the added pressure of your heavy gaze on him.
He palms at his crotch through his underwear, hissing at the pressure as the tip of his cock leaks against his leg. He imagines you laying in bed in the guestroom above him, your own hand drifting between your thighs to the same memory of tonight.
He resigns himself to a night of jerking off to the lingering smell of your perfume on his shirt, but then he hears the familiar buzz of his phone on his nightstand—the designated heartbeat vibration that you set for yourself as a joke—and he jolts out of bed.
You: I think I need more practice
Eren feels his heart jump into his throat from your message. His thumbs hover anxiously over the keys, unsure of how to respond, but then he sees a second message come through.
You: Can I come downstairs?
Eren: Do you think you can without Zeke noticing?
You: I don’t care about Zeke
Eren: Yeah
Eren: Come here
Eren climbs to his feet and immediately starts cleaning up his room. He shoves clothes that he had thrown across the ground haphazardly into the closet, tidies up his desk of any garbage and old dishes, and sprays a bit of cologne onto his neck and crotch—just in case.
Sure, you were in his room earlier today, but now things are different. Everything feels electric and he doesn’t want something like his dirty laundry to ruin the mood.
He is midway through trying to force the doors of his closet shut when he hears the gentle tap tap of you knocking on his bedroom door. He pauses immediately, feeling his heartbeat in his ears as he shifts his gaze over to the closed door. Standing up tall, he runs both hands through his hair to smooth down his brown locks before stepping over to the door and swinging it open.
“Hey,” you smile, breathless. You’ve changed into your pyjamas, a cute set with a short-sleeve cotton button-up and matching shorts.
He grins, reaching forward to loop his arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Hey,” he says, right before pressing his mouth against yours.
You return his kiss with fervour, hands reaching up to wrap around Eren’s neck as you jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. Eren grunts into your mouth, hands shifting to cup your ass as he carries you into his room and onto his bed.
He lays you out on your back on his mattress, pulling away only to admire the way your skin looks against his bedsheets. He’s already breathing hard with flushed cheeks, just from kissing, but you look just as wrecked as he does as you squirm beneath him on the bed.
“I’ve never done this before,” you whisper, a quiet reminder as Eren runs his palm along your waist. “Be gentle with me.”
“Of course,” he promises, leaning down to kiss you again. “We’ll go at your pace, ok? Tell me what you want.”
You swallow hard when Eren’s mouth trails down your throat, your hands twisted in his hair as you tug him closer to your skin. He presses more of his weight against your body, kneeling between your spread-open thighs on the bed as his arms wrap around your waist. “You look really cute,” he says, nipping at your neck and you moan. You squirm against him, needy for something you’ve never felt before, and Eren feels his mind grow hazy.
“Can you touch me?” you ask, an airy whisper against Eren’s hairline as he kisses across your collarbones.
“Where?” He moves his hands from around your waist, sliding up and down your sides, and gently tracing the curve of your breasts. You tug your lip between your teeth, eyes half-lidded at you look up at Eren, nodding slightly when he moves his palm across your chest.
He squeezes your breasts softly and your legs squeeze around his hips in response, making his breath catch in his throat. You’re not wearing a bra under your pyjamas, he can feel the absence of it through the thin cotton, and as he brushes his thumb across your already pert nipples, you whimper.
“Like that?” he asks, and you nod furiously. He moves his hands to the centre of your chest and starts to work on the buttons, watching the way your chest heaves with every breath and he moves down your stomach.
Eren pulls your shirt open and groans at the sight of your exposed breasts—rising and falling with each breath that you take. He brings a hand up to his mouth, licking his thumb, before bringing his hand back down to grab you, and he uses the slick digit to slide across your hardened nipple.
“Eren!” you squeal, arching your back into his touch as he flicks his thumb forward and back over the nub. He can see the small goosebumps across your skin from the cold at the same time that you darken in arousal and it drives him insane.
Hovering over the opposite nipple, he lets a long line of drool spill from his lips until it lands on your nipple. You squirm from the feeling, gasping again when Eren’s opposite hand reaches out to pinch it between two fingers.
“Oh my God, Eren,” you whimper, biting your lip hard as your head twists against the pillows. Your body is rolling against him, hips bucking up and seeking friction to alleviate the need as he plays with your chest.
He reaches down to shove his half-undone pants off of his hips so he can press his barely-clothed cock against you, instantly feeling the heat of your arousal against him as he does. With a deep groan, his head falls forward against your shoulder as he struggles not to fuck into you just like this—he’s so turned on it hurts.
“Where else?” he urges, desperate. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
You struggle to speak as Eren gently pinches and pulls at your nipples, his mouth salivating at the thought of taking you into his mouth, but he’s trying to take things slow. He’s trying to let you set the pace, lest he completely ravages you.
You reach a hand down from Eren’s hair, grabbing the wrist of his hand and he stills his movements completely. He lifts his head from your shoulder to look up at your face as you gently pull his hand off of your breast. Holding eye contact, you drag his hand down your body until it rests firmly between your thighs.
“I need you here,” you say, like you have absolutely no idea what those words will do to him.
“Have you ever touched yourself before?” You shake your head from side to side and Eren feels like he’s just been gifted the greatest thing in the world. “Have you ever had an orgasm?”
“I think so.”
“Ok, so you haven’t,” Eren chuckles, running his tongue across his lower lip. “Sit up for me,” he says with a nod, standing up onto his knees and making his way over to your side.
You shrug your pyjama top off as Eren settles onto the bed behind you, scooching the two of you back until he’s lying back against the headrest and you’re lying back against his chest. He can’t help himself from grabbing and palming at your breasts and he makes himself comfortable with his chin on your shoulder.
“I’m going to show you how to do it, so you can do it yourself,” he explains, and your breathing stutters.
He slides his hands down your stomach to your thighs, gently running his palms down to your knees before dragging them back up to your hips, using his thumbs to press into your inner thigh as he does, dragging up the hem of your shorts.
“I’m not an expert at this, so I’ll need you to tell me if it feels good, ok?” he hums, brushing his lips against the bare skin on your shoulders. You let out a shaky breath in response, nodding jerkily as Eren’s hands come up to the waistband of your shorts.
He hooks his thumbs under your clothes, nudging for you to lift your hips as he drags them down past your knees, where you kick them off to the side, leaving you in just a pair of black, lacy underwear. The sexy thong you have on contrasts harshly with your innocence and does something to Eren’s brain that makes everything feel fuzzy.
Eren spreads your thighs open by laying them across his legs, keeping you open for him, even when your knees try to cave together. With one hand on your stomach, holding you in place against his chest, he moves his other between your legs to cup you through your underwear. And just like he suspected, you’re soaking.
He groans against your skin as he moves his fingers against the slick, wet mess seeping through the fabric of your underwear. From over your shoulder, as he pulls his fingers away, he can even see the strings of your arousal stretch and snap against him.
“You’re so horny,” he whispers, throat tight. “You need it bad, huh?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, voice low. “Eren, can you please—?”
He smiles, petting your entrance softly with his fingers before dragging them up to your clit, and the contact makes you jerk immediately. “Does this feel good?” he asks, applying gentle pressure in smooth, circular motions.
Your hips squirm against him as you breathe out sharp puffs of air. “Yeah—yeah, that—it’s good.”
“This is where all your nerves are,” he explains, listening closely for each hitch in your breath as he increases—decreases—the pressure of his fingers, trying to find that sweet spot that has you mewling in his ear. “This is what you’re gonna wanna do if you’re touching yourself.”
You bite your lip so hard the skin around it turns white, your eyes clenching shut as you focus on the feeling, but Eren tuts and gives you two soft slaps against your cunt. “Open your eyes, I want you to watch me.”
Blinking your eyes open, you look up at Eren with hazy, tear-lined eyes, your lips plump and swollen from kissing and biting—and you look nothing like the sweet, innocent girl that was here in Eren’s room earlier today. Your gaze swings from Eren’s face to down between your legs, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of Eren’s hands on your body.
“Take over for me,” he hums, sliding his hand onto your thigh. You whimper and lurch your hips forward to chase him, but his other hand keeps you firmly in place against your chest. “Show me what you learned.”
Your chin drops to your chest as you move your hand between your legs, copying Eren’s motions from before as you find your clit and rub gentle circles through your underwear. He can feel the muscles in your thighs tensing beneath his hand as your pleasure builds and your head falls back against Eren’s shoulder.
“Does it feel good?” he asks and you moan softly in response. He trails his hands across your body, moving to the waistband of your underwear as he starts to tug it down your hips. “Now, take these off.”
Your skin is hot to the touch, breathing fast and shallow, and your hips twitch and keen up against Eren’s touch as he moves both hands to your inner thighs, spreading you open for him as he looks down at your pussy from between the mounds of your breasts.
“Eren, you’re better at it—can you please—?” your words are choppy and airy as your hands reach out to grab at his wrists, trying to pull him toward your aching cunt. Eren imagines a world where you can’t figure out how to get yourself off—where you have to come to him to find pleasure.
“Ok,” he coos, teasingly, “but you have to pay attention, ok?”
This time, when he touches you, he presses the pad of his thumb flat against your clit, leaving his fingers open to toy and play with your pussy. You’re so wet, he’s just slipping his fingers against your skin, collecting the slick on his digits while his tongue grows heavy in his mouth—he wonders if you’ll let him taste you.
“I’m going to go inside you now,” he says, shifting his free hand to grab your chin, making sure you're looking down between your legs. “It might hurt a little, but just try to relax.”
He tries to pick his thinnest finger to push inside of you, but they’re all thicker and longer than yours. He opts for his ring finger, pushing past the slippery folds into your entrance to the first knuckle, groaning at the wet warmth of your walls as they squeeze around him.
“How’s that?” he asks, carefully working it in and out of you, pushing deeper each time.
Your hips squirm against him, rubbing his cock between the globes of your ass as you do. “I want more.”
He pushes deeper and deeper, meeting no resistance as he slips his entire finger into you. You squeeze around his digit in tight, little pulses that has Eren’s cock throbbing against your back—you’re so tight.
Eren starts to fuck you with his finger, pulling in and out while his thumb maintains pressure against your clit. Your arousal coats his finger, dripping down between your legs with each pump of his hand, but slowly you start to loosen up around him as you begin to relax.
“Look at how wet you are for me,” he groans, pulling out until just the tip of his finger remains, showing how slick and shiny his skin is from you. “I’m gonna do another one, ok?”
You moan loudly when Eren pushes a second finger into you—hands clawing at Eren’s thighs as your back arches hard off of his chest. “Oh my God, Eren!” you cry, body trembling, “That feels so good—that feels so good.”
He moves his palm to cover your mouth, shushing you as his fingers curl against that spongey bundle of nerves inside of you that has your toes curling. “My family is upstairs,” he reminds you, but he picks up his pace just to hear more of your muffled moans against his hand.
The wet squelch of your cunt around his fingers has him breathing hard into your neck—all he can think about is how perfectly your pussy is moulding around his fingers, how easily you’re able to take him with how wet and eager you are. His cock is making a mess in his underwear, leaking precum and soaking through the fabric as his hips grind against your ass. He wants to be greedy—he wants to stuff his cock inside of you—but he has to keep reminding himself that this is your first time, you’re just learning.
Your legs start to shake on either side of him and Eren can feel you squeezing hard around his fingers as you moan into his palm. “Does it feel good?” he asks, even though he can already tell, and he grins when you start to nod. “You’re close, I can tell. It’s ok to cum—just let go.”
Your stomach flexes and tightens under his arm as your pleasure builds and you start squirming in his grip—fuck, your first orgasm! Eren feels lucky to be the one to give it to you.
He keeps his steady pace of fucking his fingers into your cunt as his thumb presses against your clit, and soon he feels your chest tighten as you hold your breath—one, two, three—and with a muffled moan, you cum on Eren’s fingers.
“Oh, fuck,” he hisses, breathing hard as you tighten around him, clenching and squeezing his fingers as you body shakes and your eyes roll back into your head. Eren works you through it, listening to your breathing and waiting for your body to relax against his before he stops moving. With great delight, he looks between your breasts as he pulls his fingers from inside of you, groaning at the sight of the creamy, white ring around his knuckles.
Your hands are still shaking when you reach out to grab his wrist. “I’m s-sorry, Eren,” you say inbetween breaths.
“Why are you apologizing?” Eren asks, voice strained. His other hand has shifted down from it’s hold on your mouth to your chest and underneath his palm he can feel the rapid beating of your heart in your chest. “You did really good, I’m so proud of you.”
Your thighs tense from his praise, moving to snap shut but Eren still has your legs hanging over his own to keep you open. And while you’re still catching your breath, Eren brings his fingers up to his lips to suck the sour taste of your pussy off of them.
Removing his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop! he laughs and presses a kiss into your cheek. “You taste really good, did you know that? I can show you how to cum with my tongue, next.”
“I need a break,” you sigh, dramatically wiping the back of your palm across the sweat on your forehead.
Eren allows you to shift, sitting up off of Eren’s lap and instead on your knees between his thighs, facing him as Eren pulls off his shirt. Despite it all, he feels a little exposed in front of you like this—thighs spread with his cock hard against his thigh—especially with the way your eyes seem to devour every inch of him.
“I never got to see your dick,” you remind him, eyes lingering on the tent in his boxers.
“Do you still wanna?” he teases, hiding his excitement behind a devious grin, and you shock him by reaching forward and hooking your fingers under the waistband of his underwear.
Eren lifts his hips as you tug them off, dragging the waistband across the length of his cock until it springs to life against his stomach. It’s slick with precum and red from neglect, and you stare at it with wide, curious eyes.
“It’s so big,” you say, and Eren tries to keep his ego in check by reminding himself that you’re a virgin.
“Do you wanna touch it?” He grips his cock by the base, lifting it upright from where it lays across his abs, and there’s already a thick string of precum connecting his stomach to the tip of his cock.
You nervously reach out to touch him, delicately wrapping your fingers around him and—ok, wow, he looks really big in your hands. Your touch is still faint, even with him in your grasp, he can hardly feel you.
“Squeeze it a little harder—it’s not gonna break,” he directs, and you shoot him a hesitant look before redirecting your attention back to your hand and squeezing it a little harder. It would be cute if Eren wasn’t so fucking horny.
He reaches out with his free hand, covering your hand with his palm as he shows you how hard he likes to be squeezed and you squeak in alarm. Now with his hand around yours, he slowly starts to move your palm up and down along his length. You’re still looking at him like he’s some sort of science experience as he shows you how to jerk him off—eyes full of wonder—but he can tell this is turning you on by the way your thighs press together.
“This feels good,” he says, stroking along his length, “but it feels better if you touch up here.” He slides your palm all the way up to the tip of his cock, using your hand to squeeze another fat drop of precum from his tip before working your grip around the head. Eren groans from the feeling of your soft hand rubbing along the ridge of his cock and you tug your lip between your teeth in delight.
“I can do it, Eren,” you say, swatting his hand away from yours before grasping him now with both hands. Eren throws his head back against the headrest with a dull thunk! and a deep moan as you start to work along his length.
“You learn quick,” he says through gritted teeth, looking down his nose at his cock in your hands. There’s just something about seeing his pretty, little, best friend like this that has his cock leaking all over your knuckles.
You run your tongue across your bottom lip and start to inch back, lowering your face down toward Eren’s dick. At first he thinks that you’re just trying to get a closer look—but then your mouth falls open and Eren watches a line of drool spill from between your lips onto the head of his cock.
“Fuck,” he hisses, hands balling into fists at his sides as his cock throbs against your hand. “Where did you learn that?”
“From you,” you say, flashing him a smirk. “You did it to me, remember?”
Eren’s having a hard time thinking about anything, right now, but he just nods—not wanting you to stop. “That feels really fucking good—keep going.”
“Can I put it in my mouth?”
Your words have Eren’s hips bucking up into your hands, groaning loudly as his cheeks burn in arousal. “What? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you reply sheepishly, looking up at Eren through your lashes. “Feeling you in my hand like this is making my mouth water—I really want to taste you, Eren.”
“Holy fuck, yes—yes! Put it in your mouth!” he can’t contain his excitement when you bat your eyelashes at him like that. Do you even realize how sexy you’re being right now? Eren’s having a hard time believing that you’re really a virgin—where did you learn this?
You break out into a smile that’s so big, Eren’s sure your cheeks hurt, but then he watches you shimmy a little further back on the bed, lifting your ass up into the air and planting down onto your forearms. You lick your lips, hands slipping down to the base of Eren’s cock as you direct it toward your face. Eren watches your jaw fall open, lips stretching to accommodate his girth, before slowly taking the leaking tip of his cock into your mouth.
You’re warm and wet as you wrap your lips around him—just the tip—but you experimentally suck on his cock while your tongue flicks against his slit.
“Shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to cup your face as he curls forward. “That feels good—keep going.”
Your eyes crinkle in amusement, but you keep a tight seal around Eren’s cock as you start to take him deeper into your mouth. Eren’s own jaw hangs open as he watches you gently bob up and down around the tip of his cock, drool leaking down his length and pooling around your hands as you hold him upright.
“Take a bit more.” His voice is strained when he speaks, moving one hand to the back of your head as he starts to push you down on his length. He keeps his movement gentle, never pushing you too much, and giving you the space to pull back when you need to, but with his direction you’re able to fill your mouth with his cock until the tip is pushing against the back of your throat.
He watches you wince slightly from the feeling, eyes pricking with tears and Eren coos at you softly. “You don’t have to take it all—it’s ok, just whatever you can.”
You pull up along his length, following your mouth with your hand as you smear his length with your spit. You let the ridge of his cockhead slip between your lips before lowering back down as much as you can, twisting your wrist as you do so in a way that makes Eren’s toes curl.
He groans loudly as you work along his cock—sucking and drooling and jerking him off. Your cheeks hollow around his length as you suck and Eren can feel your tongue moving back and forth along the bottom of his cock as you bob your head. “You’re really good at this,” he says, trying to commit this scene to memory.
You keep trying to take him into your throat—you poor thing—but each time you try to press his cock past the tight ring, you clench hard around him as you gag, pulling back quickly with tears in your eyes. “Fuck, if you keep doing that you’re going to make me cum,” he says, breathing hard.
You pull off of him all at once, gasping for breath as strings of spit and precum trail from your mouth to his cock. Inbetween breaths you say, “Wait, no—can we have sex?”
His dick twitches in your hand. “You want to have sex? Are you sure?”
You nod, crawling back up the bed until you’re sitting up on your knees again, sticky palms resting on Eren’s chest. “I’ve never been more sure.”
He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you fully into his lap, straddling your legs on either side of his hips. “You don’t need to be in a rush—you’ve already learned a lot today, we can stop now.”
“I don’t want to stop,” you insist, and you’re pouting, now. “Don’t you want to have sex with me, Eren?”
He takes in a shaky breath, feeling his face soften as he looks at you. Yes, he absolutely wants to have sex with you—
But he wants it to mean something. As easy as it would be to agree to your request and fuck you here and now, he doesn’t want you to leave in the morning and have things go back to the way they were before. It’s bad enough he’s let things go this far. He’s never going to be able to get the image of your lips wrapped around his cock out of his head—or the way you feel when you’re cumming on his fingers.
“I really want to have sex with you,” he assures you, hands moving up and down along your waist, “but I don’t—”
“If we don’t do it now, then we’ll never do it,” you say, interrupting him with an annoyed groan. You cross your arms over your chest as you level Eren with a stern look. “I’m never going to get this chance with you again.”
Your choice of words has Eren tilting his head in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”
You press your lips into a tight, thin line, hesitating. Eren can see the gears in your head turning as you try to put your thoughts into words, speaking after a dense silence. “I like you—I have for a while now, and it’ll kill me if we don’t see this through.”
He wrinkles his nose at you, struggling to contain his excitement. “You like me? Ew, gross.”
“Eren!”
He cackles, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist to keep you close when you try to squirm away. He’s smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt and he feels like his whole body is buzzing. You like him—you like him? Why didn’t you say that sooner!
“Look—I know it’s stupid, but you were right. I want to look back on the night I lose my virginity and feel good about the person I lost it to, so I want to lose it to you, Eren. You’re the only guy I’ve ever trusted like this, and it’s ok if you just want to be friends in the morning because I’ll always have this.”
“What if I don’t want to be friends in the morning?” he asks, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. “What if I like you, too? What would happen then?”
You return your hands to his chest, sliding them up his shoulders, to around the back of his neck. Carding your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, you look into Eren’s eyes with a narrowed gaze. “Well… if you like me and I like you… then I guess, we should probably date each other.”
Eren grins. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m cool with that,” he says, and then he closes the gap between you both when he sees your lips twitch up into a smile, pressing into you for a soft, slow kiss. “In that case, of course, I’ll fuck my girlfriend.” The word feels like electricity on his tongue.
Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend. You’re his girlfriend.
“You’re so annoying,” you groan, but you’re still smiling against Eren’s mouth as he peppers you with kisses. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked me?”
“Dunno. Scared.”
“That’s so stupid.”
“Coming from the girl that almost made out with one of my friends,” he scoffs, and you lean back to smack him lightly across the chest.
“Ok, come on! Are we doing this or not?” You roll your hips forward, smearing your wet pussy across the length of Eren’s cock and he groans—any hardness he lost during your conversation springing back in an instant.
“Yeah, yeah—fuck. Just let me grab a—”
As he leaning over to his bedside table to grab a condom, you reach out for his wrist, stilling him. “No, can we…?”
Eren gulps, his cock twitching against his stomach as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Yeah—fuck it. Let’s do it raw.”
You groan, rolling your eyes, but you allow Eren to lift your hips up as he guides the head of his cock to your entrance. “You’re being weird, now. Stop it.”
“Sorry, I’m just happy,” he admits, and he’s still smiling from before, but then his brows pinch as he rubs his cockhead against your slit, coating himself in your arousal. “Can you relax for me? This might hurt a little, but I need you to trust me.”
“Of course, Eren,” you say, settling your hands on his shoulders for stability.
“Take as much as you can, but take it slow, ok?” Eren presses his cock against your entrance, holding it there with his fist around the base of his cock as you slowly lower your hips and sink down onto him.
He sucks in a sharp breath at the tight pressure of your pussy around the head of his cock as you take him. Eren’s eyes flick up to your face—despite wanting to watch the way he disappears inside of you—to gauge your reaction, and your face is scrunched up in discomfort.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” you say, but your voice is strained.
He shifts his hands to your hips, holding you in place as your thighs tremble on either side of him. “It’s ok, take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders as you take slow, measured breaths. Eren’s biceps bulge and stiffen from the effort of holding you up, but it’s worth it as he slowly watches your face relax and you start to inch yourself downward.
“Try—oh, fuck—try going back up before taking me deeper,” Eren cuts himself off with a shuddered breath as you squeeze around him. He digs his blunt nails into the meat of your hips as he tries to control himself while you cunt drools along the length of his cock. Heeding his advice, you gently lift yourself up until just the tip of his dick is nestled inside of you, before lowering back down again and taking him deeper.
Your face is still tense and your grip on his shoulders is punishing, but you slowly work Eren’s cock into your virgin hole until he’s completely sheathed inside of you. Eren carefully loosens his hold on your hips and allows you to sink your full weight onto his lap, taking quick breaths through his nostrils to try to keep his composure as he’s engulfed in your warmth.
You scrunch your nose, gently rocking in his lap as you try to get accustomed to his size. “I feel like you’re in my lungs,” you say and Eren snorts.
“You’re really making me feel like a stud tonight,” he laughs. “How does it feel?”
You hum, searching for the words as you squeeze around him. “Unfamiliar, but at the same time… it feels good. Like I’m full.”
“Wanna try moving?” he asks, praying that you do.
“What do I do? Just like—bounce on it?”
You laugh like it’s a joke, but Eren nods encouragingly. “Yeah, just bounce on it. I can help you.”
With a look of concentration, you grip Eren’s shoulders for stability and slowly lift yourself up from his lap with the aid of his hands on your hips. He groans from the drag of his cock through your walls as you sit up, and you moan along with him when you lower back down.
You’re a little jerky and uncoordinated at first, but after a few experimental bounces and with Eren’s help, you’re able to build a rhythm on his lap that has your nails digging into his skin as you whimper. “Oh my God, it feels so good, Eren.”
He nods in approval, breathing hard as he watches your breasts rise and fall with every bounce. You feel incredible—so fucking incredible—and he’s not sure how long he can last with you riding him like this, but he doesn’t want you to be unsatisfied the first time you have sex.
“Can I try something?” he asks through gritted teeth, gripping you a little harder around your hips as he plants his feet into the mattress and his shoulders into the headrest, shifting his hips slightly. When you nod at him, he raises you up from his lap and starts thrusting up into you.
With a stuttered moan, you fall forward into his chest as Eren fucks you—gasping and moaning with your face buried into his neck as Eren bullies his cock into you with every snap of his hips. With the way your nails are clawing into his skin, Eren can tell that he’s hitting you at just the right angle now to get you off.
The sounds between your bodies are wet and loud with every thrust, your skin slapping against each other, and your pussy leaving a mess against the dark hairs at the base of Eren’s cock. Your moans against his neck just send more and more heat flooding to the surface of his skin, beads of sweat rolling down the column of his throat, his chest, and the nape of his neck.
“Eren, I’m gonna cum again,” you say, almost apologetic against his skin as your body tenses around him. “Oh, fuck—Eren!”
“That’s it, come on—cum for me,” he grunts, feeling the lustful haze he’s been trying to fight off finally consume him as he nears his own orgasm. He should be cooing softly in your ear, brushing your hair out of your face as you lose yourself around him, but now—all he can think of is how he absolutely wants to ruin you.
His fingers press bruises into your skin as he starts to force you down onto his lap, meeting each upward snap of his hips. Each breath is harder and harder to catch as he works himself to exhaustion, chasing your high as his own quickly follows. “Let me feel you fucking squeeze me,” he says through each strained breath, “show this pussy what it’s like to cum on a fucking cock.”
You whimper his name when you cum—thighs trembling on either side of his hips and toes curling into his sheets. Your nails dig lines into the muscles of his back at the same time that your sweet, virgin cunt clamps down around Eren’s cock.
“That’s it—fuck—that’s fuckin it, baby!” He’s laughing now, riding the high of his quickly building orgasm. He throws his head back against the headrest, slamming you down onto his lap as he looks down his nose at your trembling body.
You’re still going through the waves of your orgasm and whimpering his name, probably verging on the edge of overstimulation as Eren’s cock pushes against your tight walls. Your words quickly turn into mindless babbling when Eren’s grip shifts to your ass, squeezing you hard as his hips pound against yours.
“This is my pussy now, got it?” He smacks your ass with his palm and you jolt against his chest. “Look how perfect she is for me—how messy she gets. Nobody else gets to feel you like this, not when you fit so perfectly around my cock.”
Eren sits up, letting you fall onto your back on the mattress as he looms over you on his knees. His cock slips out from inside of you in the movement and he grabs himself around the base and slaps at your clit with the head.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he says through gritted teeth, tendons in his jaw twitching as he looks down at your body—sprawled across his mattress in a breathless, sweaty mess. You’re cunt is slick and shiny from your arousal and Eren feels like he’s going to lose his mind.
He runs his cock through the lips of your pussy, nudging your clit before pushing back into you, groaning through his teeth as he watches you squirm from the feeling. “Do you like that? When I stuff you like this?” he punctuates his statement with a snap of his hips that has your hands scrambling for purchase on his sheets.
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum,” he hisses, hands shifting to your hips to hold you in place as he thrusts into you. “That’s what you’ve wanted all night, right? You’ve been begging for it all night—someone to kiss you, touch you, fuck you. Isn’t that right?”
He’s delirious as he barrels towards his orgasm, breathing hard with every movement. The bed is squeaking and scraping against the floor and your moans are echoing off the walls of Eren’s bedroom. He grunts and pants, feeling the familiar tightness in his gut as his nears his orgasm.
“Eren, I’m—” you reach out for him, nails just barely reaching his abs as he pounds into you, and he can feel it—the clench of your pussy around his cock as you start to cum again. It completely sends him over the edge and with a deep, gutteral moan he cums—hot white shooting into the tightness of your cunt with every pulse of his cock.
Eren’s vision goes white and he collapses ontop of you, holding himself up by his forearms on either side of your head as he gasps for air. Your arms and legs wrap around his body, pulling him tight against your chest and Eren feels the slick heat of your sweaty skin against his as he presses into you.
“Oh my God,” he says inbetween each breath. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more gentle—that wasn’t how I wanted it to happen, I—”
You break out into a smile, breathing hard alongside him, hair clinging to your forehead and the nape of your neck from sweat. “It’s ok, Eren. It was a lot of fun.”
He sighs with relief, lowering his face into your neck to nuzzle against your throat. “Ok, good—shit, I’m still sorry, you’re going to be so sore tomorrow.”
“Yeah, probably.”
He snorts, sitting up just enough to put some space between your bodies, and he moves his palm to your lower stomach, gently rubbing in little circles. “Poor girl, all stuffed full of cum.”
You wrinkle your nose at him and make a weak attempt at shoving him off of you. “Gross, Eren.”
Eren cackles and allows you to roll him off, landing on his back with a quiet oof! as he stares up at the ceiling and tries to process everything that just happened. Beside him, you’re quiet too, gradually slowing your breathing as your body relaxes into the mattress.
He rolls his tongue against his cheek, trying to find the words to say, but you beat him to it. “So… were you being serious? About all those things you said earlier about… liking me and wanting us to date and stuff.”
Eren nods in response, not trusting himself to speak just yet.
“So… this isn’t just some—” you gesture vaguely between the two of you “—one night stand thing where we pretend like nothing happened in the morning? This is like… for real?”
He swallows thickly, tilting his head to the side to look at you and he sees that you’re already looking at him. Eyes wide with a mixture of hope and fear as sweat dries on your skin and the heat on your skin fades away in the cool evening air.
“Yeah,” he says, “this is for real.”
“How long have you felt like this?”
“I don’t know. Since the beginning, I think,” he admits. “There was never a moment for me where our relationship felt different, it just… it always felt like this, but I didn’t know—or maybe I was in denial—of how much you really meant to me.”
You hum, “Yeah… I know what you mean. It’s the same for me.” You clasp your hands on your stomach and look up at the ceiling in thought. Eren can see the way your brows furrow gently and your lips purse as you concentrate on whatever’s going through your head.
“That’s why my ex didn’t like you,” he continues, “she said that I cared more about you than I did her, so she made me stop hanging out with you.”
“Ah! So that was the reason. I thought you just thought I was too lame to hang out with anymore.”
“I would never think that.” You shift to look over at Eren beside you and he shoots you an apologetic look as he sits up onto his forearm. He leans over you, brushing away the sweaty strands of hair on your forehead as he looks down at you. “I’ll make up for the years we missed, I promise,” and he seals his promise with a soft kiss against your lips.
You reach your hands up to cup his face, deeping the kiss and putting all those tips Eren gave you to good use—it makes his heart clench with pride at the fact that he taught you to kiss exactly the way he likes.
When you pull away, your eyes flutter open, gaze bouncing between each of Eren’s eyes as you build up the courage to speak. “Eren…”
“What is it?” he reaches for your hand on your chest, untangling it from your other hand so he can bring your knuckles up to his lips. “You can tell me anything—you always can.”
You chuckle and seeing your mouth twitch up into a smile has Eren smiling down at you, too. “Eren… I think your cum is leaking out of me.”
“Oh, shit,” he sits up, eyes wide as he looks around his room. “Let me get you a cloth or something.”
Eren wakes up to the gentle buzzing of his phone on his nightstand—a text message. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, willing himself to go back to sleep and nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head as he holds you close.
After cleaning you up last night, you decided to stay in bed with Eren. The two of you chatted a bit more about your feelings for one another before falling asleep in each other’s arms, and as happy as Eren is to be awake in a reality where you’re his girl, he really doesn’t want to wake up right now when his head is pounding with a hangover.
His phone buzzes twice more and it almost feels more urgent this time, so with a groan, Eren reaches over your body to grab at it. He squints one eye open as he looks down at his messages to see a text from Zeke.
Zeke: Good morning, Eren.
Zeke: I advise that you tread lightly this morning when you see your mother.
Zeke: She was not too impressed with the racket you caused last night.
Eren’s eyes widen as he looks down at the message, thumb moving quickly to type up a response.
Eren: Shit.
Eren: I thought we were being quiet.
Zeke: Really?
Zeke: You really thought you were being quiet last night when you were yelling in explicit detail about when and where you were going to cum?
Eren: How mad is mom?
Zeke: Very.
Zeke: You know how much Carla likes that girl, so I don’t think she’s very happy about the way you were speaking to her last night.
Eren groans, covering his face with his hand as he feels his heart sink into his stomach and his whole body break out into a cold sweat. You start to stir in his arms, pulling your face from his chest to look up at him with sleepy eyes.
“Good morning,” he says, feeling his face soften as he looks down at you. Facing his mom doesn’t seem so scary anymore when he knows that he can wake up next to you like this again.
It’s ok, Eren decides. He’ll stay in bed with you all morning until his mom heads out for her regular weekend shopping trip, then he can sneak you out and deal with her on his own. There’s no need to have you present for the verbal lashing he’s bound to get.
She’s always loved you—she used to tease you as kids about getting married when you got older, so Eren’s certain that she’s over the moon about the two of you finally getting together. But that doesn’t mean she’ll be happy about overhearing Eren taking your virginity, especially if Zeke is to be believed.
“Morning,” you say around a yawn, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?”
“Pretty early,” Eren says, shifting his gaze over your shoulder back at his phone. He watches three grey dots appear on the screen as Zeke types out another message. “It’s ok, we don’t have to get out of bed right away. We can just sit here and—”
Zeke: By the way, breakfast is ready :)
#eren jaeger x reader#aot x reader#eren jaeger smut#aot smut#eren smut#eren x reader#fem!reader#snk smut#eren jaeger x you#eren jaeger x y/n#eren x y/n#eren x you#aot x y/n#aot x you#snk x you#snk x reader#snk x y/n#tiff.fic#eren#aot#eren.os
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Friendship Defined (Joel Miller x f! reader)
Summary: You and Joel have been friends with benefits for months. The blurred lines have you questioning what exactly makes a friend just a friend?
Warnings: 18+. MDNI. Mentions of sex (oral, p in v), mention of periods, fwb! Joel, non outbreak AU, implied age gap, fluff
Word Count:~800
Author’s Note: Thank you to the lovely @swiftiscruff ( @swiftispunk & @joelscruff ) for coming up with this idea.
This one shot is dedicated to all of you.
I’ve been in this fandom for a few years now and as much as I’ve wanted to I still have trouble putting myself out there to make friends in the fandom. I usually just put out my stories and go about my day.
Well I want that to change!
This was such a beautiful idea and such a great reminder of how wonderful fandom can be. To be able to connect with so many talented people is such a gift and I want to try to get to know you guys more. This is my official post to put myself out there - so if anyone wants to come into my asks or DMs or message me on Discord please do!! I wanna be your friend lol!!
To celebrate this momentous weekend of friendship and fandom, I’ve created a Joel one shot all about friendship. With benefits lol. Enjoy!!
Joel would always introduce you as his friend.
Friend being a blanket term but it did seem to fit into your large, intricate clusterfuck of whatever you were.
Sure, in the literal sense you were friends. Ever since you met Joel through his little brother Tommy, a group of you would go out every Friday to the same bar for a beer and darts.
Then when Tommy met Maria and everyone else in your group started to couple up, you had more time to spend together.
It started off with friendly dart competitions that lasted a bit too long. Shots that would start to last until closing time. A shared Uber to one house because “it’ll save money”.
Cut to Joel eating you out on your kitchen counter. And getting fucked in the shower that next morning. And then suddenly several times a week you’re trying to plan strategic ways on how to exit at different times so it didn’t seem suspicious. It didn’t matter, though. Tommy knew and would take the moment Joel left to fuck with him about it.
So if everyone else knew, why didn’t either of you know what this was? You didn’t want to bring it up because the idea of him getting freaked out and ending things made your chest tight.
You were so in your head about this arrangement that one night after leaving Joel’s house after watching and the Fast and the Furious and then having the ride of your life on his dick afterwards, you came home and immediately opened your laptop to do some soul and site searching.
Is this still technically a friendship at least according to Merriam-Webster terms?
friendship
noun. friend· ship ˈfren(d)-ˌship
1: the state of being friends
….Google search number two:
friend
noun. ˈfrend
plural friends
1: one attached to another by affection or esteem
There are several other definitions for the word friend.
2: One who is not hostile.
Joel was never hostile with you. He was adorably patient when you took too long to decide what you wanted when you went out to dinner. He never hesitated to say sure when you wanted to try what was on his plate.
The hardest he’s ever pressed onto you was when your ex boyfriend showed up at the bar one night. Once he made a beeline to talk to you, Joel’s massive hand snaked around your waist to pull you into him so he could know any talk with you tonight was off limits. You were off limits.
The idea of Joel being so possessive made you so wet that you blew him in the alley that night.
3: one that favors or promotes something (such as a charity)
It takes you back to one of the first times you had slept with him. You were sprawled across his bed as he peeled your leggings from your body. You spread open for him as he pushed your thong aside to fit his thick finger into your hole.
He curved his finger into you and came closer, feeling his breath on your clit.
Instinctively you blurted out, “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”
Joel looked up at you with a serious expression.
“None of my other exes really liked to do this.”
Without hesitation, Joel settled between your thighs again.
“Well then I guess I'm going to be your new favorite.” And with that, he slid his finger back inside you, this time with more intent. You let out a moan as he teased your clit with his finger, reminding you of why he was indeed your favorite.
4: a favored companion
You think about the late nights picking up french fries at McDonalds when you convince Joel out of the house past his bedtime on Saturday nights. You remember the nights you had your period and he still wanted you to come over so he could cook you dinner; your cramps dulling as he soothed you on the couch.
You think of how nice it is to just be with him. Laying naked and vulnerable, hearing things he hasn’t even told Tommy.
You go back to Google.
“What is the definition of a romantic relationship?” you type, the clacking of your keys sounding louder than ever.
Before you can press enter, your phone rings loudly and startles you. It’s Joel. You pick up.
“Hey. Just checkin’ in.” He says. “You left kinda quick so I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Yeah.” You feel your heart swell inside your chest. You can’t stop grinning. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“Oh…” You can see the crease form in his forehead when saying that. “You didn’t have to go or nothin’, I just didn’t know if you were sick.”
“You’re my best friend.” You tell him, unaffected at how random that must seem for Joel to hear. “You know that, right?”
But instead of being suspicious, Joel's voice softens. You’ve only heard this voice in passing, with Sarah on the other end.
“Yeah, I know. You’re my best friend too.”
You didn't realize how much that simple affirmation meant to you until you heard it.
There was a pause on the other end, a moment of shared unspoken understanding, a thick air of tension and want, and then you both spoke at once.
"Would you like to come back over?"
"Hey, I was just about to ask if I could come back over," you blurted out, suddenly feeling a little bold. “Maybe spend the night?”
The two of you laughed together; you closed your eyes and envisioned the crinkle in his eyes. His soft brown eyes are on you as he shakes his head in disbelief. What the hell are you still doing at home?
“I wouldn’t want anything more.”
That’s what friends are for, right?
#ppcugiftexchange2024#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x f!reader#Joel miller#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us smut#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#joel tlou
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Sunshine
Pairing - dark!Rafe x pogue fem!reader
Summary - Reader has a crush on JJ, but JJ is dating Kie. Rafe decides he wants reader to get over JJ, no matter her say in the matter.
Words - 3k
Warnings MDNI - NON CON, DUB CON, drugging with E, slapping, physical fight (m vs f), dry humping, alcohol use, drug use, rough sex (p in v), degradation, blackmail, very dark Rafe.
A/N: This is my darkest piece I have ever wrote and of course it's for Rafe. He is mean SOB in this, so if that triggers you, please don't read. Thank you to @haven247 for the beta read. I am nervous about writing this dark, but hope you like it. PLEASE HEAD THE WARNINGS!
Being at a kook party was not your idea of fun, but they had free booze and it was better than a keggar. After the last week you’ve had, you have every intention of getting plastered and trying to forget your crush and best friend was dating someone else.
JJ your best friend since you were 4 and crush since you were 14, was officially dating Kie. And it hurt, a lot. You knew it was coming, saw the writing on the wall, but held out hope it wouldn’t. The only person who knew about the crush, that you knew of, was John B. He was your brother from another mother, and knew you inside and out. You three had been friends so long, you don’t remember a time when they weren’t there. John B has given you hug and told you he was sorry the day you saw them kissing through the Chateau window. He informed you they were dating and you had gone home and cried yourself to sleep. Avoiding them this past week, but couldn’t get around it for this party.
You had watched them dance, laugh, and make out, and were completely ready to vomit. Or wait, was they alcohol? I was in my 3rd concoction of the night and was not feeling much of anything. Well physically anyway.
Anyway, you were in the kitchen getting another drink, when you heard the last voice, you wanted to here.
“Well, well if it isn’t Miss Sunshine” Rafe Cameron sneered as he walked into the kitchen.
“Fuck off, Cameron” I told him, trying not to say more and start something.
“Anyone ever told you have a venomous mouth, Sunshine” he laughed.
“Only to you, Cameron. Everyone else thinks I am adorable and sweet” my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I bet you taste sweet” he chuckled. I turned around and caught him looking me up and down. He showed no shame for being caught. “What’s got you drowning in booze tonight? Wouldn’t have anything to do with Maybank and Carrera doing the horizontal mambo, would it?”
“You’re such an asshole, Cameron” You go to walk past him and he grabs your upper arm and pulls close to him.
“Most girls that talk to me the way you do get punished” he leered, inches from my face.
So, side note, when I drink, I think I am ten feet tall and bulletproof. And tonight was no exception.
“Let go of me you fucking psycho!” I hissed at him, pulling my arm. Unfortunately, he was so much stronger than me, my arm barely moved in his grasp. “I swear to God Rafe, I am not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.”
“Don’t call me psycho and I think I need to teach you some manners.” he growled right before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in to kiss him.
I instantly started pushing on him and struggling to get free. I bit his lip and he howled in pain and jerked back. I slapped him across the face, not caring this was Rafe Cameron, Kook Prince himself, and no one ever told him no.
He snapped his head back and I looked in his eyes. They were completely black, no amount of blue left, and had a predatory look that actually caused a little fear to creep up my spine. Something else, God help me, arousal shot through to my core and made me soak my panties.
I started to back away and with each step I took back, he took forward.
“Rafe just fucking walk away, leave me alone” I try to sound defiant and flippant, but not sure I pulled it off. His grin was pure evil, reminding me of every Disney villain I ever watched.
*Oh Sunshine, you really shouldn’t have done that” he smirked. I turn to run and get one of the pogues, but he grabs me by my waist and turns me around to throw me over his shoulder.
“You psychotic motherfucker, put me down!” I yell as I punch his back as hard as I can. He just grunts and slaps my ass hard, bringing tears to my eyes and more arousal to leak out of me. My mind was telling me to fight because you hate him, but my body was yelling at me to let him have his way.
He takes you to some room, locks the door, and proceeds to throw you on the bed. He immediately grabs both your wrists and roughly jerks them above your head, causing you to arch your back from the roughness and your tits rub against his chest. The lace bra you wear offered little protection from the friction and instantly your nipples hardened. Rafe chuckles as his free hand rubs over my breasts and pinches my nipples.
“You may not want this, but your body does” he chuckles as his hand slides down over my stomach and to the waistband of my shorts. I continue to struggle, he slaps my bare thigh, causing me to gasp. I know if I looked down right now, there would be a red hand print.
“You’re a feisty thing, maybe we should get you a little more pliant.” He threatens.
I see him reach in the pocket of his shorts, but don’t see anything in his hand when he pulls it out.
“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” I demand trying to keep the worry out of my voice.
“Just a little something to make you enjoy it more.” He smirks as he places a pill on his tongue and grabs my jaw to look at him.
“Open up, Sunshine” he murmurs as leans in to kiss me.
I try to shut my mouth, but the hold he has on my jaw won’t let me. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I feel the pill begin to dissolve as he devours my mouth. God he is a good kisser, I can’t stop myself as I whine in the kiss, causing him to moan. He held my jaw until the pill was fully dissolved, then he lets go, but we continued to kiss. Fuck, what was I doing, this was Rafe, I should be biting his fucking tongue off, yet I didn’t want the kiss to stop. He finally pulls away when air became a necessity.
“What the fuck did you give me, Rafe?” I pant, still trying to catch my breath from the kiss.
“Aww Sunshine, it’s just a little E to make you forget your troubles and help me fuck you without the feistiness.” He smiles down at me. I start to struggle again and hurt him in some fashion. His hold on my wrists and him between my legs really left me defenseless, and he knew it.
“Now let’s get rid of these clothes.” He grabs the neckline of my shirt and rips it down the middle. I screech from shock, and he continues ripping till it is off me.
“Oh Sunshine, you have some beautiful tits.” He groans as he leans down and latches his lips on one of my nipples. I gasp out from pleasure as he sucks, nibbles and licks my nipples through my bra. Thousands of jolts of delight ripple through my body to my core. I began to feel a zing of energy and mixing that with pleasure, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips up into Rafe.
“That’s it baby, let the drug begin to work. Let me make you feel good and forget Maybank for tonight.” He murmurs as he continues his assault on my tits, his mouth on one and his hand, pulling and pinching the other.
“More” I whimper to him, trying to get more friction. He reached behind me undoing my bra and let go of my wrists, I moved my arms so he can get off. My hands fly into his hair to push more into my chest. He grinds down on me and I groan, I feel the heat build in my stomach.
I have a slight moment of clarity, where I thought what the fuck am I doing, when Rafe rolls his hips and the tip of cock hits the seam in my shorts just right to rub my clit and I see stars. I moan out as I squeeze my eyes shut and let my orgasm wash over me.
“Fuck Sunshine, when was the last time you came?” he chuckles, reaching down to unbutton my shorts and take them off. He stands up, using the opportunity of me in a blissful state, to rid himself of his clothes. I look over to him and see his cock saluting me. My eyes wide at how big he was.
“Shit Rafe, I don’t know what you plan to do with that monstrosity, but it ain’t fitting in me.” I say in wonder.
“I’ll make it fit,” he said as he spread my legs and slapped my pussy. I yelped, still sensitive from my release, but it caused a wildfire to spread through my veins. He slapped it a few more times, rendering me a whiny mess. I tried to hide my face, ashamed at how he was making me feel. I knew the E was mainly to blame, but a part of me knew it wasn’t all the drugs.
“Oh, don’t be shy now” Rafe taunted as he pulled my hands from face and roughly kissing me.
Distracted by his kiss, I didn’t notice he lined his cock up to enter me. He shoved it in my soaked pussy and I screamed in his mouth. The pain and burn from his stretching without prep was almost unbearable. Instantly, tears formed in my eyes and I pulled my mouth free.
“FUCK!” I cried out “Rafe, get out, pull out, it hurts so bad!” I cry but he continues to snap his hips into me, even though I was pushing on his stomach.
“Shut the fuck up and take it.” He growled as he grabbed my arm and jerked it above my head, slamming into me faster. I was whimpering, crying mess underneath him. He continued to pound into me, hitting my cervix, lips taking what they wanted from my lips down to my breasts.
“I’ll have you forgetting Maybank after tonight and you’ll only want my cock in this pussy. You’re mine now, Sunshine” he rasped in my ear.
“I hate you” I hissed at him.
Eventually the pain began to be replaced by pleasure, my cries turning into moans as I felt my core heat up and the band began to tighten.
“You keep saying that, but your body doesn’t,” he taunted “you might be venomous, nonchalant, and a raging bitch to the rest of the world, but all you needed was a Daddy to tame that mouth and this pussy. Didn’t you?”
I ignored him, not wanting to agree with him. Suddenly I heard and then felt the smack across my face. I let out a shocked yelp and grabbed face with my free hand. My body betrayed and a rush of arousal coated his cock.
“Oh, you like being slapped huh? When I ask you a question, you answer it, slut” he hissed at me.
“Yes Daddy” I moaned out, before slapping my hand over my mouth, not believing what I just said.
“That’s my good little slut” he teased.
He let go of my hand and reached down with both hands to push my thighs into my chest. I cried out as the new position hit my G-spot and I saw stars. Within seconds, the band snapped in my stomach and I was screaming daddy repeatedly.
“That’s it, you little cunt, cum all over my cock.” He grunted before pulling out and flipping me over on my stomach. He straddled my thighs, pulled my butt up, and shoved himself back into me. I moaned as the new position let him hit deeper. I grabbed the headboard needing to ground myself, as the drugs and orgasm made me feel like I was floating away.
He wrapped his arm around my neck, putting me in a chokehold, snapping his hips into me at such an ungodly pace. I could already feel another release coming. The drugs had all my senses turned up to an eleven, the burning in my stomach, the tingling in my core, the pleasurable pain every time he hit my cervix. I felt that if I had another orgasm, I would fly off into outer space.
“S’too much, daddy” I whine, trying to push on his stomach. “I can’t do it”
He slapped my hand away and smacked my thigh hard, making me cry out.
“You will take everything I give you. You’re my little cum slut now and you will obey me” he grunted. He grabs my arm and jerks them around behind my back, grabbing both wrists with one hand. With his other hand, he grabs hair and uses both as leverage to fuck me harder.
All you could hear in the room were my ‘uh-uhs’ and our skin slapping together. I was close as my walls begin to flutter around his cock, but he was too as I felt his hips stutter.
“You better cum before me or you’re outta luck,” he panted. “We’re not here for your pleasure, only mine.” He taunts as he speeds up getting closer to his release.
I manage to wrestle one of my hands free and reach down to rub my clit. The added stimulation almost instantly makes me fall over the edge, I scream out and clamp down on Rafe’s dick. My body convulses as I have the strongest release of my life, but the E in my system causes me to keep cumming tears falling down my cheeks as I can’t stop.
“Jesus Fuck” Rafe gasps, “You’re clenching so tight I can barely move.”
He forces his cock in and out of me as he pants and grunts. Slamming into me one more time, I feel his seed shoot out against my walls.
“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” he hisses. He slowly thrust back into me a few times before pulling out and flip me over. I was essentially a rag doll by this point.
“Oops can’t have any Daddy’s juices spilling out can we?” he smirks, shoving two fingers in me pushing his cum back in me. I whimpered and grabbed his wrist.
“Stop, too sensitive” I whimper out.
“Stop being a whiny slut” he sneers before slapping my pussy a few times. I cry out, tears running down my cheeks. He reaches for his phone and takes a picture of me.
“What the fuck” I snap.
“I need something to jerk off to when you’re not around”
He shows me the picture. I look royally fucked out, mascara and tears running down my cheeks, lipstick smeared all over my face, bruises and hickeys around my neck and chest. He grabs my phone and tosses it to me.
“Unlock it” he demands.
I do without any argument. He puts his number on and sends himself a text, so that he has my number.
“When I call, I expect you to answer and come to me” he demands coldly. “If you don’t, then the whole island will know your just my cum slut and enjoy it. I have evidence.” he grins.
I nod, knowing he had me, because the thought of the pogues, especially JJ finding out made me sick to my stomach. He tossed my shorts and some tshirt he found to me.
“Now you’re gonna get dressed, go back to the party and act like nothing happened. Your hickeys were from some random touran.” He instructed. “The whole time you pine over JJ, my cum will be seeping out of your cunt. Oh, and clean your face up.”
I move slowly getting off the bed. I get dressed and head to the en suite bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and start to cry. I splash water on my face, cleaning myself up, the whole-time sobbing.
Rafe comes in the bathroom and stares at me for a minute. I turn to face him and he smacks me on the cheek, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting and leave his handprint.
“Stop crying like a cunt,” he mocked me, “You enjoyed it, I think I counted three orgasms from you?”
“It was the drugs” I argue.
“Sure, sure. The explain why you were soaked before I gave you the E?” he asked.
I’m looked away cause I had no answer, at least not one I was willing to admit.
“S’what I thought,” he smirked “Now get downstairs, before I change my mind and take you home, tie you up, and use you all night.”
I ran out of the bedroom and went downstairs, looking for my friends.
Walking around, I finally found John B and Sarah making out in a corner. Pope was in another room trying to woo a girl with coroner talk, the poor girl looked scared for her life. The last room I walked into, JJ and Kie were on a couch, Kie in JJ’s lap making out. My friends, wait no family, didn’t seem to have missed me.
I walked into the kitchen and made me a drink and walked outside to one of the patio chairs. My phone dinged with a message.
Remember our deal and no one finds out. Although with as worried as they were for you, not sure they would seem to care.
I downed my drink and got up to get another one, tears running down my cheeks.
How the fuck did I get in this situation and what was I gonna do. All knew was I hated Rafe Cameron and I would find a way out.
Tagging some moots:
@princessmaybank @echo-at-the-pond @babygorewhore @drudyslut @rafescokewhore @rafesc0kewh0re @starfxkr @blueicequeen19 @drewstarkeyslut @pankowperfection @maybankskiss @ch4rrykisses
#outer banks#rafe cameron#obx#tw dark content#dark rafe#dark smut#dark!fic#dark rafe cameron#dark rafe x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader
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the brothers 100% have a marketable plushie slash merch line
Asmo's sells the best, it was his idea after all, he's the most popular brother, but Lucifer is close behind
they only went through with it because Mc and Diavolo begged Lucifer to allow it (they both really wanted a Luci plushie)
Mc owns the entire line
They are also the spokesperson. they can and will be a walking advertisment to anyone who dares to ask
for some reason, a pink sheep is introduced with the side characters. nobody knows why but after seeing everyone who has a place in the line seems to have at least three, so obviously all the fans buy at least three. it outsells both Diavolo and Asmo's combined
nobody seems to connect the dots that Mc does not have plush but this random sheep does
the sheep is pretty cute though
idk I'm just obsessed with the thought of all the character's beds being stacked with these plushies like teenage girls stack their bed with squishmellows
half of the characters jump into the bed to feel like they're being hugged by the softness and the other half gently make room for themselves so they don't crush them
mc does the same thing but they only own one of each so they can make them all feel special individually
"babe come over to my room tonight"
"sorry babe no can do, it's movie night with the boys"
"are you talking about the damn stuffed animals again"
"do not talk about the boys that way ever again"
whenever Lucifer comes into Mc's room to talk about anything serious or bad about Mammon, they will cover plush Mammon's ears and act offended on his behalf
the brothers regularly steal Mc's plushies of each other because they're jealous but always returns them since they feel bad making mc worry about the wellbeing of a plush
Satan has waterboarded plush Lucifer and only gave him back after holding him for ransom
"not talking, aye? we'll see about that in a moment"
"SATAN IS LUCI PLUSH IN THERE WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO"
"nobody"
"I CAN HEAR HIS SUFFERING PLEASE GIVE HIM BACK"
"only if you promise to go to that new cafe with me"
meanwhile, somewhere else... "I can feel a disturbance in the force"
#obey me#obey me!#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me luke#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me mc#obey me x reader#obey me x you#obey me headcanons
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sacred romantic moments
“ don’t go. stay. “
“ but you’re here, so stay. “
“ i don’t want to be alone tonight. “
“ just come over. “
“ let’s be alone together. “
“ i didn’t know where else to go. “
“ i don’t want us to be apart anymore. ever. “
“ i wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t important. “
“ you can talk to me about anything. you know that, right? “
“ just… be honest with me, do you hate me? “
“ i could never hate you. not really. “
“ you’re my friend, but… sometimes i wish you were more than that. “
“ we’re not just friends. you know that. “
“ i think i’m falling in love with you. “
“ can i hold your hand? “
“ yeah, you’re in love with me. “
“ just hold me. “
“ things would be so much easier if we were honest with each other. “
“ why can’t you be honest with me? with yourself? “
“ maybe you could stay? just for tonight? “
“ it’s dark outside, and it’s raining. my arms are much safer. “
“ you can’t keep doing this. you can’t keep lying to yourself. “
“ i can’t keep lying to myself, or to you. it’s not fair on either of us. “
“ i think you should kiss me. “
“ kiss me like you mean it. “
“ just kiss me. “
“ you shouldn’t kiss me right now. “
“ look me in the eyes and tell me you love me. “
“ you can’t lie to me, you know. “
“ you know me better than anyone. you always have. “
“ you’re pretty amazing. you know that, right? “
“ you’re just… you’re extraordinary. “
“ you’re good to me, you know. really good. “
“ you’ve made me the happiest i’ve ever been. “
“ i don’t know what i would have done if you weren’t here. “
“ our love can conquer anything. “
“ and for many generations to come, our love story will live on. “
“ i want you to marry me. “
“ if you asked me to marry you tomorrow, i’d say yes. “ “ what about today? “
“ marry me, name. marry me and make me the luckiest [x] in the world. “
“ your kiss could mend a broken heart. “
“ are you going to kiss me again, or do i have to do it myself? “
“ i could cry, that’s how much i love you. “
“ you’re worthy of my love. “
“ truth is that i’m so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself. “
“ maybe tonight, it’s you and me. “
“ i don’t know what the future holds. all i know is that i hope you’re in it. “
“ could you promise me one thing? “
“ promise me that we’ll be together, no matter what. “
“ it’s you and me, forever. no matter what. “
“ i didn’t want to tell you until i was sure, but… i’m pregnant. “
“ we’re going to be family! “
“ this baby, it’s the best thing that could ever have happened to us. “
“ i can’t believe this, we’re going to be parents! “
“ dance with me? “
“ may i have this dance? “
“ you’re my whole world, you know. “
“ don’t speak, just… kiss me. “
“ you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to that. “
“ i’ve been wanting to tell you for so long… “
“ so… is this like, a thing now? “
“ i always miss you, even when you’re next to me. “
” i miss you. i miss you so much it hurts. ”
” i don’t want you to miss me. it’s tearing me apart. ”
“ you make me happier. “
“ i love waking up next to you. “
“ my favorite thing is falling asleep next to you. “
“ come cuddle with me. “
“ this is torture, isn’t it? “ “ not in the slightest. “
“ do you love me? “
“ could this be something more? “
“ move in with me. “
“ do you think we should move in together? you spend all your time here anyway. “
“ are you serious? i’ve had a crush on you for as long as i can remember. “
“ i know you’re in love with me. “
“ you’re really cute, you know. “
“ you’re so damn attractive. you know that right? “
“ if anybody were to kiss me, i would want that person to be you. “
“ and right now, i think you should kiss me. “
#ask meme#ask memes#rp meme#rp memes#inbox meme#inbox memes#sentence starters#sentence starter#sentence prompts#sentence starter prompt#sentence prompt#sentence starter prompts
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casual
partially based on casual by chappell roan and a lil bit of sad personal experience hehe
word count: 2k
content warnings: angst (no happy ending), references to smut, alcohol, harry being a douche, not ramadan friendly
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
From: H (12:47 a.m.)
Come over?
To: H (12:50 a.m.)
Give me 15
From: H (12:52 a.m.)
K
. . .
It’s not unusual for her nights to look like this. Or her early mornings, rather.
It wasn’t always this way. When she first met Harry, she wanted nothing to do with him romantically or intimately. She’d heard about his reputation — it wasn’t anything bad as long as you were looking for the same thing. He was an expert in bed and the friends that slept with him always provided rave reviews. Ever excited rumblings of, “oh my God, he’s so caring! He made me finish twice before he even took his cock out” and “he’s the perfect one night stand — seriously, I’ve never had anyone better.”
But Y/N didn’t care for that.
She was a serial monogamous, always bumping around from one lengthy relationship to the next. In hindsight, she supposes she wasn’t any better than Harry, who earned his notoriety from a series — a long series — of casual hookups.
If you needed a rebound, you went to Harry.
If you were going through a dry spell, you went to Harry.
If you were just horny and needed someone to go home with at the end of the night (and he hadn’t miraculously already found somebody else yet), you went to Harry.
And Y/N never planned to sleep with him. Ever, really. He was a fine friend, someone who mixed well with their mutual friends, but they hardly exchanged conversation except for the occasional nicetie. She had his phone number from when he planned Rachel’s surprise birthday party last year and they were friends on Venmo, passing back the same $20 every month for drinks or a shared Uber.
That was the extent of their friendship.
Until a few months back, when Y/N was down in the dumps. She’d been seeing this girl, Samantha, for a month or two, assuming that they were headed straight towards a happy, exclusive relationship — only to discover that Samantha was sleeping with and seeing just about 10 other people on the side. And it only came out because Samantha happened to contract chlamydia from one of her sexual partners, so she’d been forced to tell Y/N for the sake of her health.
Y/N's friends, Rachel, Maeve, and Len gave her time to wallow. They offered it to her on a silver platter, even, offering multiple girls nights out (and in), providing Y/N all the space she needed to cry and complain and talk about how hurt she felt.
But then… a week of moping turned into two, which turned into three, which eventually turned into a month and a half. Her friends were exhausted from watching her spiral into sadness, so they did the only thing they knew: They sat her down and told her she needed to rebound. Fast.
“And who the hell am I supposed to rebound with?” Y/N asked through a sniffle. The only thing that made this whole thing worse was her friends staging an intervention for her because she was being annoyingly sad about her not-really-breakup-but-felt-like-a-breakup.
“See, that’s the best part of being friends with a man whore,” Maeve replied eagerly. Len and Rachel sat on either side of her with bright eyes, nodding excitedly. “Harry! He already said he’s down and everything!”
“Wait— you already asked him?”
“We just put the idea in his head. Don’t worry, men are stupid,” Len quickly waved her off, “But he’s going out with everyone tonight. We’ll feed you a few shots to get you just buzzy enough, and then send you off to your night in heaven. You won’t even remember that girl’s name by the time Harry’s done with you!”
Y/N cringed. “Hasn’t, like… everyone slept with him though?”
Maeve shrugged. “Yeah, but he’s clean. He gets regular testing and uses condoms. Really, Y/N, it’s sort of a rite of passage at this point. But you should do it only if you’re comfortable— don’t let us force you into it.”
Y/N swallowed tightly. She had to admit, the thought of a rebound sounded… appealing. She’d swiped through dating apps looking for one, but she was too scared that a one night stand would end in her bloody murder. And it helped that Harry already knew what he was doing, and— wait, was she crazy or was she actually starting to consider this?
“Alright, fine,” she replied with a shaky exhale, “Let’s do this.”
That was four months ago.
And what was supposed to be an evening of stupid, lusty, casual sex turned into Y/N falling hard. It wasn’t her fault, though — no, not when he panted breathy promises into her mouth in the back of the Uber, mumblings of “just tonight, you know that, right?”. She’d replied just how she’d rehearsed it in her brain hours prior: “yes, yeah, I know— just tonight. Just for tonight.”
"Just for tonight" shifted into Harry asking her to stay until the morning for breakfast and shower sex. Then, the following weekend, he texted her the ever classy you still awake? at just past midnight. She was indeed up, doing nothing but rotting on her couch and watching a documentary about the deep sea — and her hookup with Harry had been good, really good, and she wasn’t going to turn down another night of orgasms.
As he wrapped a condom around his dick and pressed messy kisses down her neck, he whispered the same hurried sentiments from the weekend before: “didn’t see anyone I wanted tonight and we were good, yeah? It was good. So just… just one more night, okay? That’s fine, right?”
Foolishly, with flittering eyelashes and her nails scraping down her back as he pushed inside, she nodded and echoed his words. Just one more night, that’s fine.
It didn’t take long for their friends to catch on when Harry would leave the bar an hour early without looking for someone to take home. Or, when they’d both be out and, like magnets slowly being pulled towards one another, they’d end up kissing on the street as they waited for an Uber to take them back to Harry’s place.
The guys hounded Harry about it, asking if Y/N was finally the one to tie him down.
“Nah,” he’d reply with a shake of his head, “She’s a good girl. Too good for me.”
When Y/N’s friends demanded to know every last detail, she shrugged.
"I'm not really sure. It's... good, I think."
They only responded with small, tight smiles.
. . .
“Your mom texted me today. She invited us to come see them this weekend.”
Harry doesn’t reply — or rather, he makes an unassuming humming noise — as he gets out of Y/N’s bed, untangling his naked form from her sheets. He hunts down his briefs and pulls them on before stretching his arms out.
“Did you eat dinner?” he asks, grabbing her tee-shirt off the floor and tossing it to her. She sits up, tightening the sheet around her chest. She shakes her head as she clutches the fabric of her shirt in her hands and watches him scroll on his phone.
“No. I thought we could get something.”
Harry hums again, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. Swallowing, Y/N puts her shirt back on. She’s not sure why, but she always feels oddly vulnerable once they’ve finished hooking up. When she’s still naked and he’s already moved onto the next thing, like having plans with the guys or taking a shower before he heads home. She'd even purchased his favorite body wash and shampoo when he started sticking around a bit longer, but he'd never even mentioned it or uttered a thank you.
“Yeah, maybe,” he finally replies. He locks his phone and places it back on the ledge of the TV stand in her bedroom. The simple act makes her heart jump — usually, he’ll stuff his phone in his pocket as he’s leaving. Maybe he was planning on staying the night. “So listen, I know I took you to dinner at my parents’ place that one time, but I don’t really feel comfortable with you talking to my mom.”
Y/N furrows her brows in confusion. “She texted me, H. I don’t, like, regularly reach out to her.”
“Right, but it just makes this whole thing feel way more serious than it is.” he says, sitting back down on the bed. He maintains a steady distance between them and it makes a small lump form in Y/N’s throat.
“Okay,” she murmurs slowly, “That’s fine, I get it. But… we never really talked about what this is.”
Harry glances up with wide, confused eyes. “We’ve said it a million times, Y/N. This is casual. Completely and totally casual sex.”
An ugly, involuntary chortle leaves her chest. He raises his eyebrows.
“We’ve been fucking for four months. That’s not really casual.”
“Yes, it is. It’s friends with benefits.”
“Sure, maybe, but that’s if you explicitly outline that you’re just having sex. No feelings involved.”
“We did that.”
“When?”
“At the beginning,” Harry responds. He seems frustrated now, but it feels as though he’s recalling a memory that Y/N was never even around for. “Remember? I told you, it was all just for tonight type shit. Nothing real.”
“Then why the fuck did you take me to your parents’ house two months ago?” Y/N demands, anger rising in her chest, “And why am I your date to all of your stupid, boring work events? And why the hell are you at my house like four times a week, and why do you have a drawer full of my clothes at your place?”
“Y/N—”
“This isn’t fucking casual, Harry. This is dating. You’re dating me and you don't even realize it.”
“I would know if I was dating you, but I never asked you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want a girlfriend, you know that.”
She groans and shakes her head, ignoring the way her jaw already aches from clenching it so hard. She grabs a clear pair of underwear from her drawer and quickly slips them on. Harry’s silent the entire time.
Suddenly, she whips around and faces him. “Have you been fucking other people?”
A wrinkle forms between his brows. He shakes his head.
“No. I wouldn’t do that, and it’s unsafe.”
“Right,” she murmurs, placing her hands on her hips, “So piece it together, Harry. Neither of us are sleeping with other people. We’re exclusively seeing one another.”
“You’re just making this out to be way more of a thing than it is—”
“Oh, fuck off!” she exclaims, “You have a key to my house! That’s pretty serious!”
“I didn’t ask you for that!” he fires back as he stands up from the bed. They’re in a stand-off now, staring at one another with angry eyes. She snorts and shakes her head in disbelief.
“My friends were so fucking right about you. You’re such an asshole. You know Maeve called me a loser for thinking you were a good guy?”
Harry rolls his eyes as he grabs his phone and sweater, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
They don’t exchange any other words as he leaves her room. She sits back down on the edge of the mattress, listening as he stuffs his feet in his sneakers and slams the front door shut. She doesn’t even notice that tears are lining her eyes and falling onto the apples of her cheeks.
. . .
It’s barely 48 hours later when Y/N’s watching a YouTube video as she stands in the bathroom, doing her nighttime routine.
Like four months prior, when she hoped Harry would be a good rebound for her heartbreak, she's been moping around in self-hatred and sadness. She's in awe of how cruel and oblivious he's being, but more than that, she can't believe she actually believed he had real feelings for her. Ones that extended beyond sex.
She’s brushing her teeth when she notices a text notification come down, redirecting her attention from the influencer vlog to read the name of the sender. She taps on it to see a familiar initial.
From: H (10:32 p.m.)
Sorry for what I said. Can I come over?
#writing#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanficton#harry styles one direction#harry styles x reader#harry styles x oc#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles one-shot#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fanfiction#one direction#harry's house#⭐️#yes I just had to re-size that banner and reupload
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