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urfavoriteitalian · 4 months

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“coming back for more”

summary: in which you and Jude can’t stay away from each other

warnings: 18+ SMUT!, friends with benefits, dom!jude, innocence kink, blowjob, fingering, slapping, degrading, praising, pet name, a bit toxic relationship, changes of pov, unprotected sex (don’t do it guys!!!).. that’s all i think

10 days, 240 hours without seeing him.

240 hours since the last time he touched me.

240 hours without a fucking message or a call.

I would love to say that I wasn’t used to this, but I was. Used to be treated like this. I could say him no. I could say him that I didn’t want to keep doing this, like everyone told me. Even Jobe, his brother, told me that Jude wasn’t good in this type of things, that I should tell him to go to hell.

When Jude was away from me, when he didn’t text me, I convinced myself to end this, that it was the best thing to do. But his touch. God. His touch was like a drug to me. It felt like he had poison in his fingers. No man, ever, ever, made me felt like this. Not that I’ve been with many men, and I thought this is why Jude liked me so much.

The innocence that I had when I first met him, made his cock twisted only at the thought. The insecureness of my touch made his mouth groan and the though that he was the only man capable of making me felt the way he did, made his ego boost in a way that wasn’t explainable.

In those ten days that I didn’t saw him, was because he was in England, 2 hours and 30 minutes away from me. He didn’t texted, and even if I knew that he wouldn’t, the spark of the hope was always alive in me.

The din of my phone took me away from my thoughts. I took a quickly look at it, wondering who was. “J.”, that was the way that I saved him on my phone. Only two of my friends knew about him, in first place because he asked me to not tell everyone, and in second place because I didn’t want people to know that I let a guy treating me like a toy.

Another din. Again him. I unlocked my phone and read the message.

hey

I’m back home

Cool.

I just said, wanting to be stronger than my need for him. Another din.

Same place, in one hour?

I rolled my eyes at the message. Me and Jude used to met in a hotel, since we lived in two different place of the city, and not to arouse the suspicions of the paparazzi. This time if he really wanted to see me, he should come at my place.

If you really want to see me, then come at my place.

I knew that he wouldn’t come. Another din.

Such a brat

I read the message without replying, knowing that probably he would text me the next day, or in the worse case, find another toy to pleasure himself.

-Jude pov’s-

I asked my mother to take me to her place, since she decided to act like a child, but I was craving her taste so bad.

We arrived in front of the place, and my mother stopped the car. I made my way to open the door, but her voice stopped me.

“Your girlfriend lives here?” she asked, hoping that I would say yes, I could say by the spark in her eyes.

“What make you think that I’m here for a girl?” I answered her questions with another question smiling innocently.

“Jude you spent an hour getting ready in the bathroom, I don’t think you’re here for your mates” she said smiling sweetly “You asked me five times if you looked good” she continued “And you do this thing at least three times at week when you’re here”

I kissed my teeth, thinking something to said my mother “She is.. I mean, kind of.. is difficult” I scratched my neck “Can I go now?”. She continued smiling “Jude you aren’t just a soccer player, don’t forget that” I nodded and after thank her for the ride and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek I left the car.

I made my way to her apartment, I’ve only been here once, but luckily I have good memory. I knocked the door, more than one time just to annoy her. I could hear her scoffing behind the door, probably rolling her eyes.

-Y/N pov’s-

I opened the door, wondering who is the prick who’s bothering me at 10 pm, but when I did, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Jude..” I said quietly, he was already scanning my body. I was wearing one of his shirts, and black socks that reached my knee “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“You told me to come here, darling” he said tiling his head to the side with a smirk “Do you want to let me in or you want to go out and have fun on the stairs? It could be interesting” I rolled my eyes after let him in, and he closed the door behind him with a kick.

“Missed me?” he asked following me like a lost puppy towards the house, I turned myself to look at him “Why you didn’t text me?” I asked looking up at him. He put his hands on my waist, for hold me still, and getting closer to me, our nose almost touching “I didn’t know you liked sex chat babe, i’m going to remember the next time”

I kissed my teeth and shook my head “Is not that” I told him “So you don’t like sex chat? I would love to see you begging me from the phone” he continued holding my waist tighter “I’m not saying that..” he hands on me didn’t let me think correctly “So you’d like it?” he said continuing his play

I broke the eye contact with him, and his hands made their way to my hips “You asked to come here and I did” he whispered to my ear, and the his hot breath on my neck made me sigh. He started making his way to the couch, still holding me. He sat on the couch and made me sat on his lap. He squeezed my thighs “Have you’ve been with someone while I wasn’t around?” he asked

That was the strange thing about our relationship. Jude wanted me only for him. He wanted an exclusive relationship with me. And it drove my mind crazy every time, because it always made me hoping for more.

“Did you?” he hated when I would answer a question with another question, but I wanted to know. One of his hands trail to my ass cheek, without squeezed it “Answer.” he just told me, clenching his jaw at the though. I decided to tease him a bit, and I started rolling my hips on his lap “Maybe” I said, it wasn’t true, I barely left the house because I had too work to do.

He slapped my ass “Get on your knees, I think you need to remember who you belong to”, he said and slapped my ass again, making me gulp. I got on my knees and started to took off his belt, then I lowered his pants to his ankles. I smirked when I saw how hard he got, I took his cock in my hand and I started pumping up and down.

“Already so hard, babe?” I said mocking his pet name. He didn’t answer, he was just staring at me, waiting for me to do the next move. I caressed his tip with my thumb, while I started sucking his ball, looking at him through my lashes. He put one hand on my cheek, and the other took my hair in his hand, squeezing it “You aren’t in the position for teasing, darling,so put that pretty mouth around my cock before i loose my patience” he warned me with a smile.

I listened to him, but in the moment that i took his tip into my mouth, he pushed my head all the way down his cock, forcing me to take all of it. I put my hand on his thigh for balance, and the second after Jude started thrusting my head up and down, while his other hand was still on my cheek. I hollowed my cheek, to gave him more pleasure, while I was massaging his balls with my free hand.

I choke every time his tip touched the back of my throat, and my nose continued bouncing into his pelvis. Tears was falling down my eyes, while I kept looking at Jude. “Don’t look at me like that, whores like you need to be put in place” he explained while I choked another time around him “I bet you’re getting so wet by sucking my cock off”. And it was true, that sight of him made my cunt clench around nothing several times. I took my hand off his balls, and leaned it between my legs, trying to get some relief by touching my clothed clit.

When Jude noticed, he took my head off his cock, and slapped me “You’re getting pleasure only by me, and only when I decide” he grabbed my jaw “Understood?” I nodded, while I was breathing heavily. The leaded my head again on his cock, thrusting my head all the way down him.

I sucked the more that I could “Fuck, I’m close” he said between his groan “You’re so good babe”. It was a matter of seconds until I felt Jude’s cock twisted in my mouth, and his hand hold me still to be sure that I took all his cum. I felt his hot cum invading my mouth, his low groans surrounding my ears, I slowly took him out, making him sigh. I licked his tip, taking all his cum, and then swallow, staring at him for the whole process, making him smirk.

He made me sat on his lap again, and touched softly my lips, indicating to open. I open my mouth, and showed him my tongue, clear. “So good for me” he said under his breath before kissing me, and taste his own cum “You taste so good Jude” I told him and then start kissing his neck, craving for more. He stood up, making my legs lock around his waist.

He made his way to my bedroom, and for the whole time I kissed and bite his neck, like it was a drug, making him groan more than one time. We got in the bedroom and he pushed softly on the bed before hardly kissing me. His tongue entered my mouth with arrogance, and his hands traveled my body with possessiveness, without touching me where I needed him the most. “Jude.. please” I begged him on his lips. Without answering me, he took my shirt off, and made it fall on the ground, and he smirked when he noticed I wasn’t wearing a bra. He started kissing and biting my breast, and his hands squeezed my thighs, putting them on his shoulders.

His fingers, finally, made his way to my starved core “God you’re so fucking wet” he said, putting my panties to the side, and slipping his fingers towards my folds “Only whores like you gets this wet by sucking my cock”

He slides two fingers inside of me, and I moaned thrusting my hips up, he continued using his fingers inside of me. Without warning he removed them from me and I whined for the loss. “You really thought I would make you come this easy after what you told me earlier?” he scoffed “Not only a whore, even stupid” he said going to kiss my neck again, and I felt his hardness on my thigh.

He made his cock running towards my wet fold and I moaned when it came in contact with my clit “Jude.. I need you” I whined, almost crying “I don’t even need to ask you to beg” he cockly said before slowly entering me. I whined again, craving for more “Shh baby” he said putting his forehead on mine “It’s been a while baby, we need to take it slow” he explained, with a sweet tone. When he was fully in me, he waited a bit and then stared moving, putting his head in the crook of my neck, making me hear all his groans.

I looked at him, his shirt still on, I tapped his shoulder unsure “Jude..” I called him, he just took his head off the crock of my neck to look at me, with a preoccupied look on his face “Can you take your shirt off.. please?” I asked between my loud moans. Jude groaned, standing up, still thrusting into me “God, you’re going to be the death of me” he took his shirt off, and instinctively I closed my legs at the sight. He put his hands on my knee “Nah ah, I need them open baby” he told me, and opened them more than before.

He was now standing at the end of the bed, and from there, he looked like a god. He took my legs and put the on his shoulders, caressing my black sock that I had still on. From this position he was deeper than ever, I could feel him in my stomach “Jude, fuck” I moaned “You’re so deep, I can feel you in my stomach” I whispered not being able to talk louder because of the moaning. Jude smirked “I want you, to feel me everywhere darling” he said and started thrusting harden into me, making the the headboard of the bed slamming against the wall with every thrust.

I felt a knot in my stomach, and locked my ankles behind the neck of Jude felling so close “Don’t stop Jude” I spoke again “I’m so close”. I was a moaning mess “God you look so good” he groaned leaning to kiss me “So drunk of my cock” he squeezed my thighs, and I knew he was close too “Can I come into you?” he asked and I just nodded. It was a matter of second until I released moaning his name. Jude followed me right after, giving me his cum for the second time today.

He took himself off me, making me whine. He lead one finger between my hole, taking a bit of our cum on it. He took it to my lips, and without saying nothing, i took it in my mouth, sucking it “How is it?” he asked so cockly, “Good” I just told him out of my breath. He lay next to me caressing my thighs

“What was his name?” he asked out of nowhere. I looked at him confused “Whose name Jude?” I kept caressing his bare chest “The name of the guy you’ve been with, while I was in London” he explained with a mix of annoyance and angriness, and I just laughed “I haven’t been with anyone Jude, it was just to tease you”, the look on his face changed to an happy one “Oh.. don’t do it ever again then” he warned kissing my forehead.

“What about you?” I asked, a little scared of the answer “I haven’t been with anyone since I started this.. thing with you”. I didn’t say a thing, I just kissed him, innocently, but the caress that Jude gave to my ass cheek made me understand that it wasn’t over yet this night. “Jude I have to wake up early tomorrow” I said in the kiss “Mhh” he protested grabbing my ass “It’ll be quick”

in the end, we will always come back to the other for more..

note: hi!! hope you guys liked it, sorry that y/n is a little bit innocent but i liked it for this story. if you have any request lmk

kisses, Carla 💋

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #smut #football smut #image #real madrid #yn #football #viral #aesthetic #fanfic #fandom

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givemefevrr · 9 days

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Fuck Me Like I'm Famous (NSFW)

Pairings: dom!Jay x fem!reader

Warnings: Breeding kink, possessiveness, public sex, Jay is in a band, creampies, fishnet stockings, mirror sex, rough sex, hand kink, pet names (baby, pretty girl, doll, etc.), praise kink (kind of), degrading kink (kind of), dollification, etc...

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Jay's pulse raced with adrenaline as he played the final bars of his guitar solo, the crowd roaring. He glanced over to the side of the stage, catching a glimpse of you, his girlfriend. He couldn't help but notice every detail about you—the way your little black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the fishnet stockings that accentuated your legs, and those contrastingly innocent, cute white lace socks poking out of your Mary Janes shoes. You were a sight he couldn't tear his eyes away from. Your eyes met his, and a soft, proud smile formed on your lips as you watched him perform.

As the first set came to an end, Jay thanked the fans for all the cheers and support. He glanced back over to you, but this type you watched his adam’s apple bob with a gulp, his eyes making slow movement down your body before the crowd’s noise returned his focus to the stage.

He prepared for the next set, picking up his guitar again, the first chords of the next song echoing through the venue. Yet, despite the ocean of fan’s in front of him, Jay's eyes couldn't help but flicker back to you, standing there in your little black dress.

Throughout the entire second set, his gaze kept returning to you like a magnet. The way you leaned against the side of the stage, focused solely on him. With each glance, Jay's control threatened to unravel. The veins on his hands and arms popped out as his grip on his guitar tightened, each note he played serving as a desperate attempt to hold back the hunger consuming him.

And soon, your eyes wandered to his fingers that expertly worked over the strings of his guitar. God, the things you’d love for those fingers to do–

But before you could finish your many fantasies, the second set and the third set had already come to an end. Wow, had you really been staring at Jay’s hands for that long?

Jay’s voice is what ripped you from your thoughts, his “stage voice” what you liked to call it, booming over the speakers, energetic and bright.

“Johnson City, what do you think of the concert so far?” Jay asked, taking his microphone from its stand and pointing it towards the crowd, receiving a series of loud, collective cheers and whistles. Jay chuckled slightly at the response, smirking.

He allows himself to bask in the cheers momentarily before glancing back at you for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Alright, well get ready for this next set–it’ll start in a little bit. See you soon, Johnson City!” Jay waves before speeding backstage for intermission.

The loudness of the crowd echoed in his ears as he reached you, taking your hand in his, guiding you close to his body as you walked with him. "You look incredible," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of the concert.

You leaned in closer, the scent of your perfume mingling with the sweat and energy of the stage. "And you, Mr. Rockstar, were amazing up there," you replied, your eyes filled with admiration.

“Yeah?” He smirked down at you, contrasting the dark gaze in his eyes as he backed into his dressing room, pulling you inside and pressing you against the now closed door, locking it. “I’ve been thinking about you since the first set,” he tilts your chin up with his fingers, his other hand tracing the contours of your body, coaxing a giggle out of you before planting a kiss onto your lips.

“Here? Really?” you scold, pushing his chest gently, finding the man amusing. “Can’t survive a couple hours without sex, huh?”

But he didn’t let you move, grabbing your hips roughly, pinning you against the door. “I can’t survive a couple hours without sex? You were practically drooling over my fingers the whole time I was on stage,” he retorted with a hint of arrogance, his knee nudging between your thighs.

You gasp, both surprised at the sensation and the fact that he noticed your staring. “You have to be on stage again in like ten minutes, Jay,” you try to deflect.

“That’s why we’ll be quick, hm?” he cooed seductively before lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you further into the dressing room.

Placing you on top of one of the make up desks, the cool surface of the mirror with its ring of bulbous lights pressed against your back, he immediately leaves hungry kisses in your mouth.

You responded eagerly, arching into the touch of his rough fingertips that traced up your thighs, teasing your fishnets with a playful tug before letting the material snap back against your skin. A moan escaped your lips into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching to tangle in his hair, but Jay stopped you with a condescending smirk.

“Ah, not the hair, baby. My stylists will get pissed, and I have to be on stage soon, remember?” he reminded you with a slow, teasing tone, his lips trailing down to your neck as his hands moved further up your thighs under your tiny black dress.

He growled softly as he discovered the absence of any undergarments except for the fishnets. “You really planned this out, didn’t you?” he murmured appreciatively, his voice rough.

You smile mischievously, your hands sliding down his body to palm at his clothed dick. “Maybe I did,” you teased.

And Jay lost it–quickly making work of your shoes and little black dress, unhooking the black bralette you wore under, leaving on the fishnet stockings and lacey white socks. “Shit, you look so dolled up like this,” he groaned, his hands cupping your tits, his thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples as he leaned in for another heated kiss.

Grasping your hips again, he pulled you to the edge of the desk, pressing your bare heat against the front of his black jeans, grinding against you, teasingly.

“J-Jay, stop, you’re–– you’re going to get your pants all messy!” you whimpered, concerned for his stage outfit, though your hips still rolled against his.

“Even better,” he rasps onto your mouth before slowing to a stop. “Turn around.”

But before you could move on your own, he deftly maneuvered you so that your stomach was pressed over the surface of the table. Jay’s hands roamed over your exposed back, tracing the curve of your spine with a possessive touch. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, the anticipation building with each passing second.

His hands moved lower, sliding down your hips, his fingertips teasing along your inner thighs, so, so close to where you craved his touch the most. You arched your back, a silent plea for more.

“So wet already,” he murmured, his voice a low coo. “Want me that bad already?”

You bit your lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his fingers found their target, tracing the outline of your arousal through the thin fabric of the fishnet stockings. He teased you mercilessly, eliciting desperate whimpers and gasps from you as he circled and stroked. You heard the unzip of his jeans before he suddenly ripped a hole in your stockings.

“Jay,” you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea for more, your body craving his touch, oh so much.

And so Jay wasted no time, his length plunging into your slick heat. The stretch and the suddenness of his entry was a bit painful, but it was so addicting. A moan tore from your lips as he bottomed out, your walls clenching around him instinctively, welcoming him in as if he belonged there, as if you were made to fit him perfectly.

Jay let out a low, guttural groan of satisfactions, the sound reverberating through the room as he began to move, setting a relentless pace that had you whimpering and whining, his hands gripping your sides with a strength that promised bruises.

“You’re so loud, doll,” Jay scoffed, his voice dripping with lust as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you wish the fans could hear how good I’m fucking you right now.”

You struggled to babble a response back, nodding frantically in compensation for your lack of coherence.

Jay’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts becoming even more fervent as he chased his own release. “Well too fucking bad,” he breathed, his voice possessive. “You’re mine. All mine.”

He leaned down, pressing open mouthed kisses onto your back and shoulders, marking you up as he drilled into you. “All mine,” he repeated again like a mantra, each word punctuated by a thrust that left you gasping for air.

Your mind was consumed with nothing but him, his touch, his scent, him filling every corner of your being. It was as if the world outside the dressing room ceased to exist, as if you two were the only ones in the venue, and the fans weren’t screaming just outside.

He leaned back slightly, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he angled his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that made you drool, so cock dumb that you could barely keep your head up, your vision hazy.

“Look at yourself, baby,” Jay commanded suddenly, gently tilting your head up, urging you to look at yourself in the mirror in front of you. But embarrassment made you close your eyes, hiding from your own gaze.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded again, his grip firm yet gentle as he guided your face to meet your reflection. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice a whisper against your ear as you finally obeyed, meeting your own gaze in the mirror, the glass fogging up with your pants and whines.

“There she is—my pretty girl,” Jay murmured, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection, dark with pure lust as he continued, his movements growing more urgent with each passing second. “Do you see how beautiful you look? How good you take me?"

As your eyes locked with his in the mirror, you could only whimper in response, unable to form coherent words, your body clenching tightly around Jay’s cock, feeling the familiar heat in your tummy build up.

You met him thrust for thrust, rocking backwards onto his cock, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you until it finally snapped, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy. "S-so good," you managed to gasp out, your body trembling as your walls clenched around his cock tightly in your release.

“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” Jay groaned, his movements becoming sloppier as your orgasm washed over you. “It’s like you’re made for it. Made for me to breed you, fill you up.”

“Mph– please!” you beg, your head spacey, your body still buzzing.

“Hm? Want that? Want me to give you a baby–make you a mommy?”Jay's voice was a deep rumble, his hips rocking against yours as he spoke, teasing you. You nodded eagerly, babbling incoherently, your voice filled with need as you feel his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside you.

In the aftershocks, you collapsed against the table, Jay still holding you close, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he kissed your temple tenderly, rubbing your tummy, still shallowly pumping his cock in you. The dressing room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, and soon one of Jay’s bandmates were banging on the door.

“Jay, you were supposed to be out five minutes ago, stop fucking and get out on stage!”

Jay grunted in response as he reluctantly pulled out of you, his cum dripping from your used cunt. With a final lingering kiss on your spine, he reluctantly straightened up, his cock still glistening as he hastily adjusted his clothing.

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velvrei · 6 months

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Imagine Mike and reader are fighting the reader leaves which xause mike to start to loose his mind but Abby makes it her mission to get mike and reader back together.

this was originally a blurb but it got too long so i made it a fic!!

…

jokes aren’t funny

pairing : mike schmidt x reader

summary : mike and reader are in a relationship & they get into a fight and later into a rough patch. abby makes it her mission to get them back to being happy together.

warnings : fluff, slight angst (little sad parts), swearing

word count : 1k+

story under cut to avoid long scrolling!

you and abby were very alike. the two of you had similar thought processes, the same imaginary friends, you both liked to dance, that’s why it was perfect for her when you and mike started dating. she finally felt like someone understood her in a way only girls could.

so, you and abby formed a friendship. you’d play together, you’d babysit her while mike was at work, and it was going great. up until mike’s work schedule started to affect his mood and the time both of you spent together. him taking the nightshift made it difficult for you to spend any time together.

so, one day when mike came home, and abby was supposed to be sleeping, you had a talk to him about it. that talk, however, quickly turned into an argument.

“i don’t understand what the problem is?” mike reasoned, louder than intended. when his volume increased, so did yours, and now you both were practically screaming at each other, which was the first time you’d ever done so.

you sighed and rolled your eyes, “because you’re not trying to understand? maybe if you looked from my perspective you’d realize how horrible it is for me to talk to your little sister more than i talk to you! i love abby dearly but i need quality time with you too, mike! i’m your girlfriend!”

mike rolled his eyes, trying to keep them open sense he had no sleep for the past 20 hours and was extremely grumpy.

“i’m sure you can survive without seeing me, y/n! i know i can. i don’t need to see you everyday to function properly!” mike said, somewhat shouting then dramatically letting his head fall onto the dinning room table.

“am i just some kind of joke to you, mike?” you asked, your eyes starting to fill with tears. it didn’t matter that you were about to start your period, you still felt betrayed and felt like mike didn’t care about you as much as you did for him.

“now where the hell did you get that from?” mike shouted, “i never said that!” his voice was filled with anger and your words couldn’t help but grow his annoyance.

“that’s what it feels like, that’s what you’re implying.” you said, before grabbing your coat off the couch. “let me know when you’re ready to treat me like your girlfriend. until then, i don’t know if i can be anymore.” your last words made him stand, as you left and slammed the door behind you.

mike swore loudly and sunk onto the couch, rubbing his hair with his hands in a stressed manner, not noticing the little girl peaking around the door frame of her room. “mike?” he heard her little voice and broke down into tears.

“what?” he said, mid sob, not wanting her to see him the way he was. abby walked out from her room, wrapped up in one of her blankets. she walked over to mike, unwrapped it, and placed it over him.

“where did y/n just go?” she asked, “and why were you guys yelling like mom and dad?” those words made him break down, he started sobbing, and it made him realize that he wouldn’t lose you that easily. he physically couldn’t.

abby could tell he didn’t want to lose you that easily, so she helped him come up with a plan. until that plan was executed, however, mike couldn’t sleep for days, and when he did, his dreams were all about you. marrying you,

it had been about 4 days after your arguments. no contact, no texts on your part. however, mike wasn’t expecting otherwise, because of your last words you said to him, so he had to make the move, the ball was in his court.

so, with abby at his side, he texted you.

y/n, i’m so sorry for everything. can you come over so we can talk in person?

and so you came over, and he apologized to you. and said that his job at the nightshift was over, because he chose you, over his job. and the fact that the building collapsed but that takes away the sentimental value.

and abby was happy, because she was able to help get the both of you together.

#mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #fnaf fluff #abby fnaf #five nights at freddy's #velvrei #trending #writing

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thatsdemko · 1 year

Text

cruel summer - a.leclerc

masterlist

t-swift inspired works list

requested: n

pairings: Arthur leclerc x gasly!fem!reader

warnings: nsfw + not intended for minors + mentions of alcohol + teasing + mentions of flings/hookups

a/n: yes my tags are under f1 I just don’t know how many people view the f2 works tags. wrote this at 5am a couple weeks ago! feedback is always appreciated xx

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

you’re not looking to fall in love you’re just looking for something fun for the summer. after having dealt with a harsh break up, the last thing you need is a man occupying your mind.

that’s until the annual gasly and leclerc siblings vacation in Italy. Arthur was just facing a fresh new start after a rough breakup as well, and a month in the countryside couldn’t have sounded more appealing. he’s also not looking for anything serious.

that’s until he sees you curled up under the blankets around the bonfire, body leaning against his older brother, Lorenzo. the orangey red flames reflect your beautiful features to him, and all of a sudden any idea of a summer fling has fallen short. he’s now realizing maybe there’s a chance to fall in love again.

you’re sipping on the last of the limoncello when Lorenzo calls it a night for himself. he presses a kiss to your forehead and wraps the rest of your blanket around your body. Charles nods along saying it’s late for him, but you and Arthur could stay longer. and you do.

“you’re not tired?” he asks, watching your tipsy body sway in the chair. your brother, Pierre, takes your glass from you officially cutting you off for the night.

“don’t need to get wasted on the first night.” he shakes his head in disapproval, and it’s his turn to head in for the evening. the three older boys have a big day ahead of them, they planned to head into town and do some racing while the two of you hung back.

“I should probably go to bed too.” you sigh watching the flames dance around the fire pit. you look up to see Arthur’s fixated on the flames too. you’ve noticed the distant lost look in his eyes, you didn’t question his appearance, you’re sure you look the same. it’s a cruel summer so far, and god you’re hoping it turns around.

—

it’s 3am when you find yourself tending to your drunk cravings. you tossed and turned in the bed trying to fight sleep, but the liquor still in your system was craving something salty.

you’re sitting at the dinning room table attempting to make as little noise as possible with the bag of chips in front of you. the house is silent, the only thing that fills the air is the sound of light snores and now you’re loud bag of chips.

it wakes Arthur up— but to your lack of knowledge he’s already awake. he hadn’t been able to sleep, your face in the glowing lights of the fire still dance around in his mind. the words of his ex girlfriend telling him he was “unlovable” linger in too, he tries to fight the words and the pictures, but falls short.

he throws the covers off his body, deciding maybe a movie or a television show would tire him out. he wasn’t expecting to see you awake in the kitchen, crumbs of chips around your lips while you munch on them. god even half awake his heart nearly beats out his chest.

“did I wake you?” you ask, guilt washes over you watching him shake his head as he slips into the chair across from you. you tilt the bag in his direction but he declines.

“I was already awake.” he explains watching you devour the salty treat in front of you. he studies how you waste no time to chew before shoving another one in your mouth. he watches you close your eyes in satisfaction of the salty cravings being met.

“how’s your summer been so far?” you ask deciding to fill the silence between you both, growing a little irritated of listening to the light snores.

“could be better, you?” he asks reaching across the table using his thumb to wipe the excess of chip and salt that linger your lips. you nearly stop breathing when his thumb comes in contact with them, his thumb is soft and gentle against your lips. his skin just brushes your chin, heart beginning to pound like crazy over this act.

“yeah same.” your breath is uneasy as you exhale when he finally pulled away. he chuckles to himself watching your pupils dilate, mouth slightly agape, and eyes lustful. he watches you fix yourself and your tipsy state returns once again.

“happy to be out here, away from the world.” he looks out the window adjacent to the table. stars fill the sky, you couldn’t see stuff like that for days in the city. he loves his summers in the countryside; just drinking, tanning, swimming, and most importantly now you. you and your little bikinis your brother warns you not to wear, you and your tight skirts, you and your beautiful figure. he can’t wait for a whole month of it.

“it’s going to be a fun month.” you sigh relaxing into the chair finally full from all the salt and crunching. he takes the bag of chips from you beginning to munch himself.

“yeah? what do you plan to do?” he asks leaning forward. maybe you could be his summer fun, his one time thing that he’ll maybe regret later on, but he won’t now. not when you’re this stunning and so beyond out of his world.

you shrug, “I don’t know, have some fun.” you smile pushing yourself up from the chair feeling exhaustion finally hit you. “I’m just looking for fun.”

he watches you walk away, you’re almost up the stairs when he adds one more thing. the last thing to say before leaving you to dream of tomorrow, “I know how to have fun, y/n.”

“goodnight, Arthur.”

—

you’re laying against your towel, back facing the burning rays, while the four boys play spike ball. the noise of their laughter and grunts are disturbing of your attempt at peace.

you give in to the sound of the wave crashing against the sand and decide to take a swim. you feel a familiar pair of eyes watch you walk past the four boys. you’re wearing the tiniest of bikini bottoms, and a top that’s a size too small for your chest. arthur noticed, of course he noticed. after yesterdays conversation all he can think about is ruining that stupid “bro code” Pierre made him promise to. he promised to never date or mess with his sister.

except it’s summer time, those rules don’t apply to a fun summer, right? he just wants something to occupy his mind, and you already said you’re not looking for anything beyond fun. he’s the perfect contender for this summer job.

“focus, arthur!” Charles fakes a throw at his brothers head, the younger boy flinches in reaction. he nods along going back to the game, but out of the corner of his eye every time the game stops, he sees your body floating across the cool salty waters.

“I think I’m going to go for a swim.” arthur announces when the three others call it a day on the game. they nod along watching him make his way towards where you are. you’re standing, feet sunk into the sand, allowing the waves to crash against your body, every so often going underneath to hear the muffled sounds of the waves crash against the sand.

when you look over towards the boys you notice they are all hanging around on their towels, and one leclerc is missing. your eyes dart around the beach before feeling someone yank your leg from under the water. it’s him.

“you scared me.” you laugh watching him come up for air, wet hair pressed against his forehead. he takes the palm of his hand brushing the hairs back, chuckling at your scared state, hand over your sunburnt chest.

“that was the point.” he says, noticeably moving his eyes up and down your body. taking in the way your bottoms nearly fell down your hips, and the way your top lifted upwards exposing your under breasts.

“cannot believe Pierre let you leave the house like that.” he licks his lips shaking his head, watching your already red face become a darker shade just by his comment.

“well he doesn’t own me.” you say, his body drifts closer due to the waves, you don’t mind, you allow yourself to be taken by them nearly stumbling into his chest. he’s praying to god your brother isn’t seeing this.

“you’re right, but maybe he should’ve said something because the things you do to me. god,” he exhales, a smirk forming his lips as he shakes the dirty thoughts, “it’s unholy.”

you exhale an uneasy sigh feeling warmth spread across your chest, heart rate picking up. you want this, god you want this with him, “tell me about them.” you run your fingers down his abs, they run over every divot and peak of his body.

“why don’t I show you tonight?” he takes his index finger resting it underneath your chin, thumb stroking the side of your face. you can’t say any words just nodding in agreement.

“can’t wait.”

—

the dress you’re wearing flows with the wind, all five of you moving around the winery watching the sunset. you think he’d behave himself this close around your brother, but he allows his arms to slip around your waist every so often, and hand squeeze your ass in any private moment. he’s tearing your patience, and that dress of yours is testing his.

pierre leaves you with the leclerc brothers to go to buy a bottle of wine for you and your family to take back home. you nurse the last couple of sips in your drink listening in on the three boys conversation. your eyes gravitate towards him, his white linen shirt has two buttons undone exposes his cross necklace, and his sun kissed chest. he knows what he’s doing, just like you knew what you were doing when you slipped on the dress with a low v. you’re both making each other beg.

“I’m going to go see what’s taking him so long.” Charles mutters leaving the three of you alone. Lorenzo makes an excuse you can’t remember because now it’s just you two. and he’s already whispering dirty secrets in your ear.

“we are in public, Arthur.” you giggle feeling his hot breath against your ear, it tingles a sensation throughout your body that trickles down your spine.

“I want to take you in this winery.” he whispers, hands pushing the few hairs that brushed in front of your face with the wind. you want him. god you want him bad, you can feel warmth spreading against your panties.

“my brother is here, you can’t.” you hiss, you want to break gaze from him, check on the status of Pierre and see if he’s coming back. but your eyes stay glued to those beautiful thick pink lips. god, you want him to take you in this winery.

“whatever happened to having fun? you don’t want to meet me in the restroom in say five minutes?” he checks his watch beginning to set a timer, he taps it and turns away. on his way inside he runs into Pierre telling him he’s using the restroom before they all leave, and now you’ve got five minutes to make that same excuse.

you sigh unsure what you’ve got yourself in to, but five minutes pass and you’re now heading to the private restroom. softly knocking on the door praying this is the one he’s in, and to your luck he is.

he opens the door and you slip in before anybody could notice, he presses your body against the wall, hands pulling the material of your dress up your thighs while you’re undoing his belt. this is the fastest you’ve got things done, you don’t have much time knowing the three out there would get suspicious.

“I can’t stand you right now.” he mutters, when he finally rips the wet material that’s against your throbbing pussy. you could whine you’re so needy for him.

“you’re cruel, leclerc. teasing me like that.” you spread your legs for him, his fingers grip your thighs as he enters you. you’re doing everything you can to keep yourself quiet— that includes biting the collar of his white linen shirt practically leaving teeth marks.

his thrusts are quick and short, he doesn’t have much time but he’s still showing you how he feels. his tip nudging your clit, pleasure washing over you. you bite down even harder on his shirt feeling tears well against the brims, you so badly want to scream, you can feel your legs beginning to shake. he’s too good for you, he wants to take his time get every part of your memorized.

“that’s it, come on.” he whispers still edging you on, hands twisted in your hair he watches you relax against him. teeth unclenching his shirt, your body practically exhales on him. your head hits the wall when he pulls out rushing to find toilet paper to clean you up.

“such a good girl.” he mumbles, the sandy paper gently brushes against your inner thighs. he helps you return back to your normal state, combing out any knots in your hair, both of you now leaving the restroom.

“wasn’t that fun?” he asks, you have a few more feet until you’re in front of your brothers and this talk couldn’t go on anymore. you just let out a dry laugh shaking your head.

“yeah if you didn’t have to take me so quickly.” you nudge his shoulder with your elbow. Pierre catches your eye, and he knows somethings different. you weren’t this happy nearly an hour ago when you arrived to the winery, and he’s not stupid when he sees the teeth marks in Arthur’s linen shirt.

“do I need to remind you that my sister is off limits to fuck with?”

“you’re a little too late, because I already did.”

No rules, in breakable heaven

It's a cruel summer

With you

1K notes · View notes

sprainedwriting · 14 days

Text

All we have is time.

Adam x fem!reader

Summary: Ignorance is bliss, but sadly you aren’t an idiot.

Part 1 Part 2

CW/TW: Porn, COLLEGE AUU, TW:Adam Oral M reciving, one sided pinning, possessive behaviour, please tell me if i missed something, Choking, breeding kink, unsafe sex, toxic relation ship and attachment , implied mental heath issues on readers side

Basically I wrote this for @namazunomegami and I but u guys can read it too ig /j

The drive to your friends house to meet for lunch was painful. For you at least, your friend had a blast. Asking you questions which you didn’t really want to answer. For someone who claimed to hate Adam she sure was interested in knowing about his performance in bed.

Once your friend parked, you made sure to take 2 steps at once when you walked about the stairs, quickly knocking at your friends door. You didn’t take the elevator, since you were too afraid to be stuck in a small room with her.

“…And like, is it true that he has a you-know-what piercing? How does that even work, does it hurt you? Or is extra stimulation…?” She was right on your trail.

The door opened and your other friend looked annoyed, her brows were furrowed and she had a scowl on her pretty face, “What the fuck? Did no one teach-“

You pushed past her into her unfairly huge living room, making sure that all 3 of your friends are in the room when you made your confession, “I slept with Adam and now she won’t leave me alone!” You pointed your finger at your pestering friend, Bernadette.

Bernadette grinned like she was experiencing joy for the first time, “Twice! She slept with him twice!”

You groaned loudly, covering your face with your hands to avoid the stares of everyone. You flopped down onto the soft couch.

“Oh my god? Details?”

“..Wait was that why you disappeared at the parties? You were fucking Adam..or more like Adam was fucking you. My, My.” Your other 2 friends chimed in, a couple who moved in together after 1 month of dating and have been going up and down ever since. So you feel like they can’t judge you. But they’re also lesbians and that’s basically part of their culture so like maybe you’re really the odd one out.

“You guys are acting like we are dating. Can we talk less about my sex life and do more eating?” You whined out. Daring to look up towards your whole three friends, you gave them your best impression of puppy dog eyes.

Monica sighed and twirled a black strand of coily hair around her finger, her short but still perfectly manicured pink nails were in a stark contrast to her dark hair. Her girlfriend, Dymphna, gave you a once over with a slight smirk on her face. Her bleached hair perfectly framing her soft face.

“Why do you never want to over share sex details with us?” Bernadette whined. For someone who acted at first like that was worst thing to ever happen to her, she sure was chipper now. MAN.

“Bro, it would be, like, really hypothetical of me to break up with the extra for sharing all of our sex details only to turn around and do the same to my friends!” You told them sternly.

That wasn’t the only reason you broke up with him, but it summoned it up pretty well. He was Adam’s drummer, and him being part of the band was his first red flag. Other warning signs were his selfish behaviour in and outside the bedroom, him NEVER defending you against his mother, and shit talking you behind your back towards the band. It was a nasty on and off relationship, with him constantly breaking up with you for whatever reason floated around his head and you took him back ever time. That changed once you found out just how exactly he talks about you to his friends, it was the last straw.

Sometimes you wonder what Adam thinks of the, mostly made up, stories he has heard from your ex. Is that why he sought you out?

“Bae, that’s different. He’s a guy. We are girls, which means we are better, and we share everything.” Dymphna chimed in.

The back and forth went like that for a while, lunch passed and so did dinner and before you knew it you were camped out in your friends living room. This isn’t the first time lunch escalated to a sleepover, so you were prepared. While you were chilling under your blanket, your friends started up their questioning again.

You know that Adam wouldn’t care if you shared sex details with your friends, or anyone else really. Matter of fact, you think it would stroke his ego badly. What you were more worried about is spilling too much. His intense possessiveness, the fact that he herded you into a exclusive relationship. One sided exclusive relationship? His stare, lowkey stalkerish behaviour, his soft touches, the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t noticing. The emotional charged atmosphere in the car.

“So it’s casual, right?” Monica asked carefully. At some point you got pissed off with everyone hounding you for answers.

“Yeah. What else would it be? Has he ever had a serious relationship in college?”

“Hmm. Well, he does talk sometimes about dates he went to. One time he bitched and moaned in practice about a girl he went on multiple dates with, who talked about equality but didn’t want to pay for the date. Man, he didn’t stop talking about that for weeks. I wonder how Lute can deal with him?” The last part was more mumbled to herself than anything. Her girlfriend was draped over her lap while the both sat on the couch.

Adam and Lute run a female-only self defence club, which is affectionately called the The Exorcists. Monica and Dymphna met at the club during their freshman year. This also meant they're more familiar with Adam than you.

Bernadette was already passed out besides you, her soft snores filled the air.

“You know the story about his ex-girlfriends?” Dymphna whispered, conscious of your sleeping friend.

“Only a bit. Dated two girls in highschool, both cheated. The second one somehow screwed him over, hard. Got kicked out of his father’s house, lived with his mother…Did I miss something?”

“That summons it up... Do you think he was into you before the final break up?” Monica chimed in.

And you think of the times where you were single for a small time, at party’s and gatherings and at campus, were Adam approached you. But you were so far up your heart ache that you simply repressed all those memories. Oh my god. The memories crashed into you like a wave.

“…Naahh. Barley saw him before that.” You tried to avoid the topic, by badly lying. You see them exchange knowing glances, but you just ignore that. Like everything else uncomfortable in your life you ignore. Avoidance above everything else.

Maybe you’re just fucking delusional and your own ego went to your head.

“Wait! So at the last party you skipped out on you were already sleeping with each other, right?”

“Yeah…Why?”

Another glance was exchanged between the couple, which started to piss you off. You hate third wheeling.

Dymphna sat up, rubbing at her eye, “Huh. Well…Hmmm..Adam seemed kinda pissed of at the party. He seemed to be looking for…something. But! Don’t worry about it.”

You threw your head back into your pillow, trying to hide away. Jesus. Your friends chuckled at you, while they got up.

“Be careful, I think if you break Adam’s heart Lute will have to tranq gun him down. Literally.” Monica giggled at the thought.

They both kissed your cheek while wishing you a goodnight, returning to their bedroom.

Even though it usually doesn’t happen to you, you couldn’t fall asleep. As much as you turned in your makeshift bed, sleep didn’t come easy to you. It’s midnight now, and the only comfort you have is your professor cancelling all the classes for the day, so it’s not like you had to wake up early.

You did have an obgyn appointment tho, to talk over birth control options for you. After that you had to work a shift. Ugh. What you wouldn’t give to be rich, but, well, this is why you’re the first one in your family to go to college. Breaking the cycle, or whatever Bernadette is always babbling about.

In the end you lost the fight to whatever demon you were fighting in your mind and you pulled out your phone from the charger and started mindlessly scrolling.

A message appeared on the top of your screen from Adam. Damn. Ok. You opened the chat log.

[Adam Godfree]: University at Albany Study: Semen Eases Depression in Women {Link} 22:34PM

[Adam Godfree]: u up tits? 12:22AM

[Reader]: Yes. 12:22AM

You see the type bubble appear and disappear for a solid minute. This isn’t the first time Adam had texted you at an ungodly hour, asking if you’re up. It’s the first time though where you respond. You rub your hand over your face, feeling stupid all of the sudden. Before you could throw your phone away Adam responded.

[Adam Godfree]: yeah??? 12:24AM

[Adam Godfree]: want me to pick u up bbae 12:24AM

[Adam Godfree]: or i can come over idgaf 12:24

[Adam Godfree]: whatever gets me in that tight pusssssy 12:25AM

[Reader]: I’m at Monica and Dymphna’s right now. 12:25AM

[Adam Godfree]: my fave lesbos 12:25Am

[Adam Godfree]: i can pick you up where ever when ever baby 12:26AM

[Adam Godfree]: jus say the word 12:26AM

You started chewing at your lips, fuck. It’s not like you could sleep and as you learned from the two last times, nothing puts you more to sleep than having Adam rearrange your guts. You looked over to Bernadette snoring besides you, her whole body was arranged like a pretzel. She was a heavy sleeper, so you wouldn’t wake her up. And hearing suspicious sounds from your friends bedroom means also they wouldn’t notice you fucking off.

Your nerves would have been stilled if you knew how Adam was nervously pacing around in his own empty apartment.

[Reader]: {Location} 12:28AM

[Adam Godfree]: be there in 10 12:28AM

SHIT. Ok, deep breaths you got this. Looking around for your bag, you realised you had to pack exactly 0. You ha shoved everything recklessly into your bag, but it was all there. Making really sure you got everything, you rubbed at your face and neck, to get the nervousness out. Why are you so nervous?? That guy literally shoved his tongue up your pussy you actually need to chill.

Before you realised it, eight minutes have already passed. Carefully gathering your bag and jacket, you simply slipped into your shoes without tying them. Walk of shame vibes without having done the shameful part yet. Slipping into your jacket, you left the apartment and made your way to the elevator. You wish you had an elevator in your building. You’re pretty sure you saw a rat last week just chilling in the staircase.

Pressing the button and patiently waiting for the elevator you decided to text in the group chat where your whereabouts will be. Before anyone thinks you ran away or something.

Getting into the elevator you made your way down, till you left the building through the huge automatic glass doors. Looking around, you tried to remember what the fuck Adam’s car looked like. Expensive, for sure. But everything here was expensive so you were lost. Making another sweep of the street, you spotted Adam’s car, but only because you spotted Adam first. He was typing away at his phone.

Walking over, you opened the passenger door and got in. You simply put your bag in-front of your feet. Adam seemed slightly startled but he quickly catches himself once he saw it was you. You muttered out a small ‘Hi’ while sighing. As soon as you were in Adam’s presence you felt the tiredness creeping in. Weird.

“Hey, baby. How’s it going?” He murmured out, he grasped his huge hand against the nape of your neck and clashes your lips into each other.

Adam kept it PG for the first 5 seconds, which honestly made you proud of him, after that he threw out any decency and tangled your tongues together. Grasping his shoulders to push him gently away from you, you could have sworn you heard him straight up whine quietly.

“Alright, pussy pleaser, how about you drive to your place? So we can finally have sex in a bed. I can’t take another semi-public place.” You told him teasingly.

Adam scoffed at you with a smile on his lips, “I’m surprised you can take me at all, babe.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you turned around to fasten your seatbelt. Adam packed away his phone (who was he texting?) and shifted the gear to pull out of the side walk. You still think your friends were full of shit. One way to find out.

Sitting up suddenly, you turned your whole body towards Adam. He averted his gaze from the road to you, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Do you ever feel like you’re going insane?” You decided to ask him.

He scratched at his chin while furrowing his brow at you, “I don’t give a shit. We gonna fuck or what?”

Oh thank god. He couldn’t care less about you.

“Yup!”

Adam gave you one last once over while slightly shaking his head at you. He pulled out into the street and started the way to his home. You were a bit relieved. The less feelings involved the better.

You watched the street lamps and different buildings pass you. You tried to take a glance into the windows, you never learned how to mind your own business. Nothing was more interesting than seeing how other people lived.

Adam smoothly parked his car at his assigned parking space. The sign had a guitar sticker besides Adam’s last name, Godfree.

Getting out of the car, you hurled your bag over your shoulder. You already thought your friends lived in a fancy neighbourhood but Adam really knows how to do everyone. Walking up towards him, since you didn’t know where the fuck to go, you looked up to him.

Adam placed his hand on your shoulder, where your bag was thrown over, and gently pushed you in-front of him. He lead the way while being behind you. His fingers weaselled its way behind the bag strap, successfully sliding it off your shoulder and slinging it across his own shoulder.

You threw a glance behind you, to find out what his plan was, but he was grinning at you.

“What kind of man would I be if I let my favourite girl carry anything?” He whispered into your ear. You felt yourself begin to flush, looking straight ahead, while Adam had his arm wrapped around your side. Walking now beside you, he dragged you into his side. Chuckling at you, he herded you to his apartment.

You were too focused on the feeling of Adam’s big, warm body besides yours to focus on anything going on around you. You’re down bad. In the trenches, basically.

Entering Adam’s apartment, you didn’t quite know what you expected but it wasn’t this. Part of you imagined a messy apartment, with dishes and trash pilling up everywhere, but that wasn’t the case. His apartment felt empty, the way Ikea display rooms feel empty. It’s nice, minimalistic even.

It’s clear to you that Adam didn’t decorate the living room. You slipped out off your shoes, everything was so sterile here you felt bad just existing. Adam took of his own shoes and jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack. He helped you out of your own jacket and hung it up.

Adam looked you up and down and started chuckling at you, “The fuck are you even wearing?”

You looked down at your pyjamas which. Yeah, was embarrassing. Your oversized t-shirt had permanent bleach and hair dye stains from adventure with your friends in it. It was a band shirt of Adam’s band, a prototype you got from your ex. Your fuzzy pants were as old as time. You bought them when you were 13, the colour was washed out. It was blue with duck prints on it. Together with more mysterious stains.

“..What? You don’t like my sleeping fit?” You looked up into his smiling face. His eyes were soft.

“Nah, babe. Nothing gets me more hard than…Fuzzy ducks. What the fuck did you even do to your clothes?” Adam grasped your hand into his, starting to lead you towards his bedroom. His fingers were squeezing yours.

“You never dyed your friends hair at 3am because her crush didn’t text her back for 15 minutes?” You smiled at the memory of Dymphna losing her mind over Monica before they got together.

“Damn, let me guess Dy? Didn’t do that, but Lute did force me to make fake accounts to test one of her toys.” Adam sniffed, “Don’t tell her I told you that. She would kill me.”

Adam opened up his bedroom door and finally you see something you were expecting. It wasn’t trash or dirt, but a few guitars strewn across the room. His big bed was shoved into a corner, it was unmade. Huge windows were covered by the curtains and his desk was surprisingly tidy. His laundry basket was overflowing. On his desk was a photo of him and Lute, they seemed happy. Everything was messy but still clean.

While you were looking around, Adam put your bag down besides his closet. For a second he simply watched you, standing in his room. He pinched himself, trying to get his shit together.

You heard Adam walk towards you, you turned around and Adam grasped your face into his hands, he bend down and kissed you. Soft. Gently. Lovingly. Your heart sped up.

His body was towering over yours, his huge hands on your face and he started to lead you towards his bed. He pushed you softly unto the plush surface, while you laid on his bed he took of his sweater, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

He smirked down at you, grasping at your knees and spreading your legs apart,

“Tell me, baby, do you rub that pretty pussy to the thought of me? Huh?” His tone was arrogant, like he knew the answer to that already.

Which, yeah, he did. Busted. Are you that predictable?? You were going to die on the spot. You covered the lower half of your face with your hand.

“…Maybe.” Your voice was small. Your own pride was too big to admit to that. Shit.

Adam’s hands grasped at your hips, his thumbs were gently massaging your skin. His hands wandered down, grabbing at the waistband of your pants he pulled it and your underwear off your body carefully. Like unwrapping a present.

“Oh yeah? Show me.”

“Wha…Why?”

“ ‘m not gonna touch you till you give me a show, slut.” Adam kneeled down before the bed between your legs, his head in his hand, the elbow resting on the blanket. His eyes were focused on you.

Fuckfuckfuck.

You bit down on your lip. Who would win in this stare off? Not you for sure.

Avoiding his sharp eyes, you slowly spread your legs further apart. Adam’s eyes moved from your face to your glistening pussy. He started to smile at the sight.

A thought popped up in your head. Adam loves physical touch, that much is clear. You just have to give him the best show ever and forbid him from touching you, as a little revenge. Teasing him will be fun. Hopefully. He’s going to eat you alive.

Your hand moved from your chest, to your stomach, to your cunt. Making sure Adam could see everything, you spread your folds apart with your fingers. You heard him hitch his breath. Ok. You can do this. Adam is obviously infatuated with you, so hopefully you can’t disappoint him. Too much.

Starting gently, you gathered some wetness on your middle and ring finger from your dripping hole. Rubbing slow circles into your clit, your lip got caught between your teeth while you tried to stifle a moan.

Adam shuffled on his knees, his one hand went towards his hardening dick. Rubbing at his bulge through his sweatpants he groaned slightly at the sight of you. This really was his favourite fucking show.

“You like that, whore? Do like touching yourself for me?” Adam spoke in a breathy tone.

You wish you had mastered dirty talk like Adam, but part of you just wishes to hide away forever. The other part wants to get dicked down by Adam constantly. So yeah, your mind is pretty torn apart.

“Uh-Hu.” You simply gasped out, who needs words when you can just moan.

Fingers moving from your pulsing clit, you started to slowly enter them into your cunt. Pumping them in and out, the frustrating truth was that your fingers were much smaller than Adam’s dick. Or his fingers. So the places he could reach were basically unknown territory to you.

“ Shit, babe, need me to help that greedy pussy out?” Adam looked into your eyes up. Fucking hell. Sexiest man alive.

He started sitting up, his hands reaching out towards your thighs.

You placed your foot on his shoulder, pushing him down. Usually Adam’s eyes were sharp, like that of a hawks, but right now he reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked up at you with round eyes.

“Why don’t you beg a bit for it, Adam? What makes you think you deserve it?” You tried to make your voice as sultry as possible. It felt more shaky than anything.

Now it was Adam’s turn to be flustered, his face was flushed and he covered his mouth with his hand. Ah. Did you over do it? Before you could take your words back, Adam leaned his head against your ankle, nuzzling the skin there. He avoided eye contact.

“..Fuuuuck, woman, you got me so fucking pussy whipped. You know how down bad I am? Nobody squeezes my dick like you do. Shit….Please, let me fuck that holy like cunt.” Adam grumbled out, him being submissive was hot as fuck. Maybe you should gag him next time. Or tie him up? That’d be hot.

You sat up more, removing your fingers to grasp at Adam’s bare shoulders, “…Damn, Adam. Please stuff me full.”

That was all it took for Adam pounce on you, he grasped his hands under your back, throwing you towards the pillows. Your landing was cushioned, thankfully. Adam crawled over you, towering over you with his much bigger body. Your talent is really biting off more than you can chew.

Adam leaned down to whisper in your ear, “That was really hot, sugar tits, honestly. But we really gotta give you some good lessons on how to properly dom, don’t cha think? We can remember that for next time, now we gotta focus on filling you up real nice ‘n good.”

You simply nodded at Adam’s words, you want him so bad. You hope he wants you just as bad.

He clashed his lips into your own, teeth clanking together and spit being exchanged like it’s your only life force. As if this could heal you, heal you both. You think it does, a bit.

Adam’s warm hands snaked themselves under your shirt, his hands exploring your body. He stopped the kiss to take your shirt off, now you were completely naked, while Adam was still wearing his sweatpants.

“A bit unfair, no?” You ask him, while trailing your fingers over his stomach, towards his happy trail to then tug at the waistband of his sweats. His dick was straining against the grey cloth. A dark spot of pre cum was forming.

Adam chuckled, “Everything for my favourite slut.” He teasingly dragged his sweats down slowly, together with his underwear.

His dick sprang free and it was once again clear that your fingers could not compare to Adam’s sheer size. You already felt a phantom stretch in your pussy at the sight of him.

Adam started kissing at your neck while his hand massaged your tit, pulling and pinching at the nipple. You whined. Once you felt him trying to leave marks on your neck, you pushed his face away from your skin.

“Ok. New rule. No marks beyond the cleavage. I’m serious, don’t laugh! Spring is coming and I can’t walk around looking like I just got mauled.” You told him.

“Sure you can. And when you do and I see you I can remember how you milked me dry and everyone knows you’re spoken for.” Adam tried to sound convincing, he was, but you don’t want to die of a heat stroke just because Adam has some weird issues going on.

You simple glared at him, reaching out and tugging at his nipple piercing roughly.

“Ouch! Fucking bitch. Okay, okay. Got it.” He grumbled out, but he started smirking again, which was never good, “Doesn’t mean you can’t leave marks on me tho, baby. Equality and all that shit.”

Dragging him down by his nape, you tugged at his hair while frenching him. Why is he so dreamy? Or more like what’s wrong with you? Doesn’t really matter in the great scheme of things. This whole thing is to casually have fun. Totally casual. Yeah.

Adam spread your legs apart slightly, rubbing at your pussy with his finger, he slowly slipped one finger in and then the other. Pumping his fingers in and out of you, he was mumbling stuff you didn’t quite catch. Something about prepping you properly. Thank god for that because otherwise he would split you apart.

Slipping in the third and final finger, he curled them up, causing you to moan Adam’s name like a prayer. Maybe you are praying to him.

Feeling Adam remove his fingers made you whine out for him. Yeah you really need dom lessons from him, a bit of pleasure and you’re brain dead. That’s embarrassing, low-key.

Settling between your legs, Adam rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit.

“Ugh, prettiest pussy on the whole campus. Believe me, slut.” He whispered to himself.

Sometimes you wonder how much Adam is aware of the fact that you can hear basically his inner monologue. Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t know it.

Slowly slipping into your warm, wet hole Adam groaned at the feeling of you enveloping him completely. Some sick, locked away part of him is happy that you didn’t mention condoms.

Adam started to slowly rock your hips together, the pressure was building up in your abdomen. Reaching under your thighs, Adam pressed them towards your chest, reminding you off a pretzel. He reached even more sensitive spots inside you with that angle.

Seeing and hearing you be so satisfied made him pick up the pace.

“..Ya know what this position is called?..Fuck!..It’s..Ah..Called mating press, baby….You wanna be..ugh.. my little breeding mate? Huh?” Adam grunted out.

Shit, his dick piercing was rubbing against your walls. Fuck, Adam has been barley inside of you for 10 minutes and you already feel like exploding. At least Adam also looks like he’s going to bust any minute.

Man, and he hasn’t even touched your clit. He has an incredible effect on you. Well, more like on your pussy. You never thought pregnancy was hot till now. You literally let the guy spit in your mouth.

Scratching up his back, you decided to make him regret saying that you could mark him up as much as you pleased. Fucker. Your lips searched for Adam’s skin, you dragged his face towards yours. You kissed the side of his mouth, he tried to catch your lips into his, but you moved on.

Lips crashed into his cheek and chin and nose, till you finally found his neck. You made sure to kiss, suck and lick as hard as possible. Everywhere you could. Adam groaned straight up in your ear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Want to mark me up, heh. Show everyone who I belong to? Shit.” Adam grasped at your hips to keep you still, to fuck into you.

“Love when you do that. When you hit that spoo-Ah- spot!” You called out to Adam, to spur him on. To have him fuck your harder. You felt juices run down your thighs.

“Oh yeah?..Tell me what else you love?” He groaned out.

“Adam! Right there, please. I..Uhh…Love your dick…?” It was more a question than a statement.

“Fuck. I’ll take it.” Adam kept up his pace, and you felt your toes curling, your legs tensing up, while you locked your ankles behind Adam’s back, to keep him inside of you.

Your orgasm crashed over you, like an electric shook cursing through your body. Feeling you clench around him, Adam couldn’t keep up much longer and he came inside you.

The sensation of having Adam’s hard dick pulse inside you, while his hot seed is spilling inside you made you sob out at the overstimulating feeling.

Adam rubbed his big, warm hands over sweaty body in a soothing manner. What a man.

While Adam was kissing your cheek, chin and nose, you felt your heartbeat slow down. Reaching around blindly, you fished out your pyjama shirt and slipped it over your head. Adam’s eyes never left your form and neither did his hands.

He put on his underwear, to then pull you into his arms, being the big spoon. You were already half gone, cuddled into the blanket with Adam.

With Adam it felt like, he was born to be domestic and monogamous but forced to frat and fuck around.

You couldn’t spare more energy on that thought, since you were already drifting off.

———————————————

Waking up in Adam’s bed, with Adam’s arms loosely wrapped around you felt surreal. Light was peaking out of the curtains. You had no clue what time it was. It felt like morning. Was it morning?

You had to take your medication. You really didn’t want Adam to know you’re on meds. That’s really non of his business. You don’t even want it to be your business, to be honest. Rummaging through your bag like a crazy woman would very much wake him up. You had to find the bath.

Slowly and carefully getting up, you crawled out of Adam’s alaskan king size bed. Jesus his bed was nearly as big as your whole apartment. Adam was a big guy, though. He does need a big bed. Imagine him squeezing him in your bed made you smile, but also made your neck ache for him.

You took your bag, which was ungracefully put besides Adam’s closet, and walked into the living room. Where was the bathroom? Looking at the choice of 3 doors, one obviously the front door, the other two where a mystery. Adam’s apartment had an open concept, so you saw that one of the doors isn’t the kitchen door, since you could directly look into it.

Deciding to just open the door closest to you, you were happy to see that it was the bathroom. The other must be like a guest room, or a storage space. Or whatever.

Gently closing the door behind you, you started searching for your pill bottle in your bag. You ended up spilling out your whole bag on the bathroom floor to find that stupid thing. Taking out your doses, you placed the pill under your tongue and started up the sink to gather some water in your hand. Swallowing everything, you closed the tap.

Feeling Adam’s cum run down your thigh made you cringe. Should you shower? Would he be mad if you used his shower? What the fuck why would he get mad at you for using his shower, that guy cums inside you now regularly. You have to get your shit together.

Before you could take your shirt off, you heard a door slam and Adam yelling,

“What the fuck! That fucking cunt! Where fucking-“ You heard him put on his clothes outside the door.

Carefully opening the bathroom door, you made awkward eye contact with a half dressed Adam. A beat of silence passed.

“..Are you good?” You decided to ask him.

His breathing was calming down, and he rubbed a hand over his face. He avoided eye contact with you.

“Yeah, totally. I…I have this, like, crazy neighbour, you know?” He tried to weasel his way out of the conversation.

“Adam, I think you might be the crazy neighbour.” You simply told him.

His head whipped towards you, he glared at you, stepping closer to you and pointing a finger at you, “Alright, listen here you-“

Before he could continue his sentence, you hooked your own pointer finger against his.

“Wanna take a shower with me?” You looked up to him, with hopeful eyes. You tugged him towards you, with your intervened fingers.

By simply looking at him, you knew Adam was losing the resolve he had to be mad at you. Thank god.

Adam took off his wrinkly shirt, throwing it into the abyss. Same with his other cloth articles. All you had to do was take off your shirt. While you stepped into the shower, Adam’s eyes wandered across your spilled out bag items.

You were playing around with the water settings and temperature when you felt Adam wrap his arms across your stomach. You leaned back against his soft stomach and broad chest. Once you were satisfied with everything you ducked under the water, feeling the warm water envelope you made your muscles relax.

When you looked around, you weren’t surprised to see a 1 in 3 shampoo bottle. Once you made sure that your hair was soaked properly, you tried to reach out for the bottle but Adam was faster than you.

He spun you around so you were facing him and he then squirted a generous amount of soap into his hand. He massaged the soap gently into your hair, then he moved on to your body. He threw away any chastity he tried to keep up, his hands were massaging your tits. His lips meet your own, and he bit his teeth into them. You couldn’t suppress the moan leaving your mouth.

He moved his hands towards your hips, dragging your crotch towards his already harding dick. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.

Adam helped you rins off the soap from your hair and body, he kept leaving kisses on your face and neck while doing so. He turned you so his body was shielding you from the water. Damn his height and build.

With his hands on your shoulders he lightly pushed you down on your knees. So, here you were kneeling down in front of Adam. His totally not intimidating dick hang before you, thick and heavy.

You have heard the term breeder balls, and you never really had an image in your mind till you saw Adam. Looking up at him, you saw him smirk down at you. Grasping your cheeks into his hand, he squeezed your lips apart.

“Wanna please daddy? Suck my dick real good?” Adam told you with a shark like grin.

You swallowed down the extra spit collecting in your mouth, Adam just mad you nervous. Made your stomach flutter and your thighs clench.

Reaching out your hand, you started to slowly wrap your fingers around Adam’s cock. Your fingers barley met, and you started stroking him back and forth. Your thumb rubbed over his tip, the pre cum was collecting rapidly. Adam’s hand went to your head, he was pushing away your hair from your face.

“You teasin’ me?” Adam mumbled out. He tugged at your hair in a threatening manner.

Taking his dick in his own hand, he lightly slapped your cheek with it.

“How about you clean my dick for me? Open up wiiiiiiide.” Man, you didn’t even need to look at him to see the wide grin in his face.

Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue, you let Adam rub his tip against your tongue. The salty and slightly bitter taste of his pre cum hit your taste buds. It could be worse, for sure.

Adam eased his dick into your mouth, with every shallow trust he put more and more and more down your throat. You tried to breath through your nose, tried to steady yourself. He didn’t bother letting you set the pace, simply starring into your face to gauge your reactions, to not push you too far.

Your hands rested on his bulky thighs, your nails digging into skin and hair. You kept your lips over your teeth, to not hurt him. Using your tongue to massage his dick as best as possible, you also hollowed out your cheeks, to suck him properly in.

“Such a pretty face, would be a waist to fuck you any way where I can’t see it. You want me to cum down your throat? Sure you do, all the bitches love that.” Maybe you should bit his dick. Fucker.

Adam, head pusher, Godfree thrusted his dick further and further down your throat. His pace was getting faster and rougher. Just how he was with your pussy. An especially deep push made you choke and gag. You pushed yourself off Adam’s dick, to catch your breath and not to throw upon his dick. That would be embarrassing.

He petted your hair gently, while waiting for you, “..Why did you take your bag with you?” He quietly asked you.

“..Uhh..I..wanted to get..just dressed.” Man you’re a bad liar.

Adam pinched your cheek with his fingers, it bordered on painful. He just starred down at you. Usually you could easily read him, he was very expressive and voiced any kind of emotion he’s going through. Verbally and nonverbally. This time tho, his face was blank. The usual pleasant nervous you felt around Adam turned into dread.

He simply hummed at you, pushing your head towards his dick. You took him back into your mouth. He returned towards his rough pace, making you choke slightly but this time you recovered quicker.

“ ‘m gonna cum down your little throat.” Was the only warning you got, before Adam held your head still to fuck into your mouth. Feeling him cum down your throat was sure an experience.

Adam, because he’s an asshole, decided to pinch your nose, to keep you from breathing. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough to push yourself off him once he was gone and to

take in air greedily. Motherfucker.

Leaning towards him, you bit into his thigh. As hard as you could. Usually when you bit him you try to mind your teeth, this time you hoped he bled.

With a painful yelp Adam quickly pulled you off of him.

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” He angrily asked you.

“Why fucking choke me, dumbass?” You asked back with the same energy.

“Babe, what’s the big deal? I can promise you, if you sat on my face and choked me? I would cum in my pants. Straight up.”

“Fuck off.”

Roughly grasping your jaw into his hand, he was seething and it was a borderline painful sensation.

“Why take your fucking bag with you?”

Shaking him off you, you rubbed at your jaw,

“That’s non of your business.” You hissed out at him.

You saw Adam’s tongue poke his cheek, a bitter smile forming on his lips.

“Yeah, right.” Adam grasped you under your arms, picking you up. For a second he simple held you up like a rag doll. You felt small and helpless, you hated that. With a hand on your shoulder he forced you out of the shower, into the cold air. Adam picked up a bathing rob and put it on you.

And even though he was clearly pissed off at you, he was still careful when dressing you. He draped a towel over your head, he then grasped your arm and threw you out of the bathroom, he locked the door once you were out.

What the hell?

Wait.

“Adam! Give me my fucking bag!” You hammered a fist against the door.

“Whaaat? Sorry, baby, I can’t hear youuuuu.” He turned the shower up more to drown out the sound of you cursing him out.

There’s no use in yelling at Adam, you knew that. Stomping towards his bedroom, you threw yourself into the soft bed. Sitting up, you looked around. Seeing a clock at the bed site table showed you it’s roughly 6:30 AM. Damn. No wonder you felt so tired. Ah, your phone was on there too. You didn’t see it in your bag, you thought it would be by the closet. Dropping out of your messy bag. Adam probably put it there.

Picking it up you simply looked through your notifications. Nothing exciting was going on. You should probably just sleep. Putting in a reasonable alarm, and putting it back on the little table, you cuddled up under Adam’s soft blanket. Everything smelled like him. That was nice.

Before you fully drifted off, you heard the bathroom door unlock. You sat up properly, to see Adam enter the room. It seemed like he calmed down. Couldn’t be you. He put down your packed bag back near the closet. Ugh.

“Ever heard of privacy and boundaries?”

“Naw, don’t believe in that bullshit.”

Yeah, you could fucking tell.

Adam sat down at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. He was scratching at the stubbles at his chin.

“..I don’t give a fuck if you’re on meds. If that’s why you were acting so fucking shifty.”

“I don’t care about your opinion! I care if I have to take that shit! And believe me, I genuinely wish I didn’t need it. I’d rather just…be normal and fit in.” Your voice got smaller at the end. You want nothing more than to fit in.

Adam sighed, “..Well, how were your shitty little friends supposed to find you, if you were like everyone else?” He grasped your neck gently and your foreheads touched each other while you gazed into each others eyes, “..How would I have found you if you didn’t stand out?”

You felt your eyelashes get wet, tears gathering in your eye. Damn. Okay.

You sniffed and rubbed the water from your eyes.

“…Let’s sleep.”

Adam grunted in agreement. Lots of excitement for one morning. Laying back down, you felt Adam’s arms wrap around you once again.

And when you woke up a few hours later, Adam had a tight grip on you and had you pressed against the wall. So you couldn’t escape this time.

#cw smut #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel adam smut #adam ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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mionemymind · 10 days

Text

To Be Loved Is To Be Considered

Summary: The moments that Wanda considered Y/n aka the moments her loved showed.

Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship

A/n: I know y’all love angst but please give this fluff a chance too. GIF credits to @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

Love is not always about the sacrifices you do but rather the moments in life where you consider more than yourself. To be loved is to be considered. And this is how Wanda considered Y/n.

On no particular evening, Y/n lay asleep on the living room couch after finishing her part of the shared chores. Wanda still had one more thing on her list when she noticed her girlfriend was sound asleep.

Tiptoeing closer, the red head saw the slight shiver on Y/n’s skin. Wanda clicked her tongue in disapproval and used her magic to get the blanket from the living room. Grabbing it from the air, she placed the blanket on top of Y/n and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

The music in the background was lowered to a small hum as Wanda continued with her chores, the last thing being on her list was to water the plants.

Taking her time, Wanda danced around their apartment as she watered the plants, even murmuring small affirmations to certain plants that were taking a while to grow.

And after 20 minutes, feeling satisfied with the clean apartment, Wanda slipped under the blanket and cuddled into her warm girlfriend. It didn’t take long for the red head to fall into a small slumber.

Y/n has a certain lazy personality when it comes to her safety, something Wanda has always hated. But no matter how many times the red head will berate her girlfriend, Y/n never listens. In her head, as long as she gets back to Wanda, that’s all that matters.

So as Y/n sat in the long pre-mission briefing, Wanda had always checked Y/n’s suit for safety. Any time gadgets need an update, Wanda would be the first to put in the request. When she notices a hindrance in Y/n’s performance, Wanda could always tell why and how certain modifications can help.

Wanda paid attention to make sure that Y/n could focus solely on her job.During the times where they are partnered up, Wanda was always glad to double check over her work.

Y/n knew that when her suit always felt up to date, never without holes before a mission, and surprisingly clean, that Wanda must’ve done something.

So in turn, Y/n never failed to come back to Wanda.

The warm dim vibe of the restaurant contrasted the loud activity that happened throughout. Wanda and Y/n sat closer to the bar, already dinning in.

It was date night, Wanda had been wanting to try a new spot in LA with great views and amazing food. “You made a great choice, babe.” Wanda smiled at Y/n’s praise.

“Should we get a couple of drinks?” As Y/n nodded in agreement, the waiter came with the food. “Here you go ladies.”

As he sat the food down, Y/n bit back the frown when she noticed the greens she specifically didn’t want mixed with her alfredo. Looking over Wanda’s food, Y/n smiled at how perfect it turned out.

“At least they got her’s right,” Y/n thought.

“Does everything look good?” The waiter asked, waiting for approval.

“Yeah everything-,” Wanda glanced at her girlfriend’s food with a disapproving look ready to say something but Y/n had interrupted her.

“Yeah, everything looks good. Thank you.” The waiter smiled and walked away. Once he was out of sight, Y/n sighed at her food.

“You should’ve let me say something dekta.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to argue with Wanda.

“I really don’t like complaining to them Wanda. Wait staff already have a lot on their hands.” Although Wanda knew they were both right, she was still unhappy to see Y/n unable to eat.

So as Y/n drank her water, Wanda switched their plates. Y/n almost disagreed, but the look on Wanda’s face silenced Y/n. “Now eat, let’s not waste a lovely date night now.”

Y/n smiled and took a bite of the steak, the juicy and flavorful feeling filled her mouth. As they continued the date, Y/n gave Wanda a couple pieces of steak as a small thank you.

“Dekta, I’m home!” Wanda placed her keys in the bowl and walked into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bag on the counter.

“In here, babe!” Y/n yelled from the office. Once Wanda put away the groceries, her eyes finally set on the gift waiting for her at the kitchen table.

Walking to it, Wanda smiled at the bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper. In the middle, a note read ‘For my beautiful and lovely girlfriend, Wanda. Love, your dekta.’

She picked it up, enjoying the smell. Right beside it sat the Sokovian treats that she had mentioned craving the other day.

Already opening a pack, Wanda walked into the office, a gift in hand. Y/n was in the middle of playing video games, her back facing Wanda.

“Pause the game and close your eyes, dekta.” Y/n paused the game.

“Am I in trouble?” Wanda giggled as she placed the gift in Y/n’s lap, giving a small peck on her forehead.

“You’re not in trouble. But open them.” Y/n opened her eyes, mouth slack at the sight of a new gaming controller. The plastered smile on her face made Wanda smile even more.

“I hope you like the color.”

“Like it?!!” Y/n was flabbergasted by the gesture, immediately pulling Wanda in for a massive hug.

“Thank you so much, babe! I can game so much better with this.”

“Maybe then you can aim.” Y/n pouted at the slight jab from Wanda but still kissed her nonetheless.

“I’ll have you know, I blame the drift on my old controller.”

“Yeah, yeah. Give me another kiss so you can play your game.” Y/n pulled Wanda in for a deeper kiss, feeling happy for the unexpected gift.

As Wanda’s smile broke the kiss, she gave her girlfriend another peck on the lips and went back to the kitchen to grab her snacks. She ate them in their office as she watched her girlfriend still miserably lose in Overwatch.

In their shared bed, Wanda sat in her spot, reading the new book assigned for the month. Laying beside her, Y/n watched a new show on Netflix, making sure to keep the volume low to not disturb Wanda.

“Babe, can you mess with my hair?” Before Wanda could utter yes, Y/n had already laid her head down on her lap, settling herself in a comfortable position.

Without a word, Wanda used her free hand and combed her fingers through Y/n’s hair. A soft groan escaped Y/n’s lips, as she said, “What page are you on?”

“Only in the second chapter, she’s being transported to a new place after killing the wolf.” Y/n hummed in response and continued to watch.

While Wanda combed through Y/n’s hair, she began to notice how her hand hadn't felt plastic frames. Realizing that her girlfriend had been unable to see the show this whole time, Wanda stopped her book. She briefly put it down to notice her girlfriend’s glasses were on the desk across the room.

Rolling her eyes, she continued to read as her magic floated the glasses right in front of Y/n. As if it was a silent command, Y/n put on her glasses, a small smile on her lips as she could finally see clearly.

Y/n placed a small kiss on Wanda’s thigh as a thank you. Together, the two continued to enjoy each other’s activities in the presence of each other.

Love is not always grand. Love is mostly kind. Feeling considered is something the heart will forever crave. And Wanda will always consider Y/n.

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #Girlfriend!Reader x Wanda Maximoff #established relationship #Girlfriend!Reader #fluff #To Be Loved Is To Be Considered #mionemymind #wanda maximoff #marvel

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rosescarlette · 7 days

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- Gentlemen. -

Zhongli is the type of person who's often described as a gentleman. Trust me this guy has a lot of fame but even he doesn't know how. He just uses his knowledge and skills and boom! He's famous.

Zhongli is the type of person to absolutely spoil you. He just wants you to be happy. Of course grandpa sometimes goes overboard. You see something? You complement it? Congrats! It's yours now.

Zhongli is also the type to be very reserved during the first time of the relationship. Not like the people who just ask him something completely about, "Hey have you-" where he just goes.. "Sorry I have a girlfriend." No. He isn't. He would completely let the person finish their question and then answer them appropriately. If some one were to indeed ask him out. He'd politely decline and just return to his work what he was doing before.

Zhongli also would be quite strict with himself. But hey.. can you really blame him?.. he has no experience during the first moments. But however do expect him to be completely perfect at the dinning matters and etc. He has learned these habits himself when he used to disguise himself as a human to mingle among his people.

He also has immense strength. Trust me no human could ever compare to his strength because he's the archon who dominates over the element geo. So he obviously has no trouble carrying your bags even yourself. No matter how heavy you are.. you're just a feather to him. There would always be arguments like: "Zhongli let me carry my bags myself!!" "Pardon but I will carry these." Yep. Expect him to be formal even when arguing. You raised yourself as an independent woman and he's the gentleman. So.. yep arguments on who's gonna pay for the dinner. Of course he ends up winning. He pays the bill regarding the price. Heck does he even look at it? No. Because his wallet (childe) will always pay for it regardless of the price.

If zhongli sees you overworking yourself to the point where you sleep on the desk itself. He will not hesitate at all to pick you up and place you in bed and tuck you in. He has no problems doing that.

You and zhongli would RARELY get into arguments. Trust me, the only times you'd argue is who is going to pay the bills and all. He always wins somehow.

He is also the type to be the first one to wish you a happy birthday or happy anniversary to you. Because he wakes up quite early and you? Nah you're gonna sleep almost to the point where people would mistakenly arrange a funeral for you thinking you died... /j . This guy has photographic memory so.. he captured every emotion on your face with immense detail. He never gets bored looking at those eyes.

He is also the type of person who'd comfort you very well. If your day is bad you can always go chat to him. He will always and ALWAYS try to make you smile. Your smile is something he would pay anything to see.

You overthink? He's the one to comfort you. You have social anxiety? He's the one to do the talking. You're short to reach? He helps you with it. Any problem you bring up he brings up the solution.

Zhongli wants everything to be perfect. My guy's a rich person. (But somehow broke) He wants everything to be absolutely perfect and no detail should be missed. So expect your birthdays and special occasions and all to be amazingly perfect. Including his proposal is something that has so many hidden meanings that many people have forgotten. Yet it's perfect. In a way where everything is according to you. Which represents you and him.

In the end.. your relationship was perfect with him. It was only date to marry. Trust me. He will only choose you.

Zhongli knows eventually one day he will outlive you. He always had. So he tries his best to always stay near you and capture every emotion of yours. And eventually when you aren't there anymore.. he will forever be lonely. He wouldn't want another person. He himself had set a contract to himself. It's either you or no one. And he follows it. Until it's the end of him.

Your grave is something that can't be found easily. I mean.. he wouldn't let it be known so easily to people. He would try to hide it as much as possible. The area would be secluded. And your grave will the one that has your favorite flowers. However to him. He visits to be with you. Only to be reminded of the fact.. you're gone too.

Despite living so long. He'd always learn talents so who knows if he learns art. Not for anything but other than painting you so you wouldn't be forgotten in his memory so easily. Even with his photographic memory he fears that he would forget. The tea cups on the table will always be the pair where one is empty and the other has cold tea. A remainder again you're gone. He heavily uses muscle memory so it's hard for him to get accustomed easily.

Despite the bittersweet ending. He always loved and always will continue to love you. And if it's his end. He would want to be next to you. And after always hold you in his arms. No matter where he would always find you. Even without his memory. His soul knows you and will continue to find you. So expect many lives of yours to be with him.

In the end he has no regrets. He always wanted to be with you. So it's always you no matter what.

#zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin characters x you #rosescarlette #rosescarlette's diary #zhongli #zhongli angst #genshin morax #rex lapis #rex lapis x you

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singularattitudeofasafetypin · 1 year

Text

Crazy Forever

Masterlist

Summary: Eddie’s been acting weird all day and Reader’s determined to figure out why!

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Jason Carver sucks but that’s nothing new, mild self doubt/criticism.

A/N: Expect grammatical/spelling errors! I’ve proofread as best as I can but this is my first time writing exclusively on my phone since my laptop is bust. I hate it so much! I hope you like this though! I think it’s cute!

Please don’t copy my work!

The cafeteria was packed. Lunchtime saw the entire school crammed into one space, queueing for food, jostling through crowds and yelling to be heard above the din. Jocks and band geeks, preps and losers alike.

In one corner sat the basketball team. They took up three tables on their own, prattling and jeering. Their cheerleader girlfriends perched on their laps, laughing hysterically at whatever pathetic joke had just been told.

In the opposite corner, across the sea of students, sat you and the rest of the infamous Hellfire bunch. Their discourse was no less lively but infinitely more substantial. At least, you assumed so. You weren’t really listening.

Your attention was fixed on the curly haired metalhead sitting next to you. Eddie hadn’t spoken since he sat down. He picked at his food, ignoring the conversation and your questioning gaze.

Your eyes narrowed. Something had to be wrong; Eddie was never this quiet.

In fact, your boyfriend had been acting weird all day!

Everything had seemed normal this morning.

You didn’t have first period together so Eddie hugged you tight outside your classroom just as he always did on Thursdays. He squeezed you within an inch of your life, lamenting your imminent separation. How, oh how, could he hope to survive without you?

‘You’re literally gonna see me again in an hour!’ You let out a giggle as he started peppering kisses all over your face and neck. His featherlight lips tickled as they grazed your skin again and again, until your cheeks ached from smiling.

‘Maybe,’ Eddie relented, pulling back so he could take you in, ‘But that’s forever!’

He gazed down at you with his best puppy dog eyes, a childish pout tugging at his mouth. You couldn’t help kissing him. Up on tiptoe, hands on his shoulders, you pressed your lips to his and almost immediately, you felt the frown break and smile against you.

He squeezed his arms around your middle one last time before stepping back and sweeping a deep bow. ‘I shall count the seconds, my lady!’

With a kiss to your hand, he walked backwards down the hall, not wanting to take his eyes off you. You blew a final kiss as the bell rang. He mimed catching it before he turned and bucked it round the corner. Out of sight.

Eddie was right. That class did last an eternity.

You pushed through the crowded hallways anxious to see him again. You spotted your boyfriend a few meters away and yelled his name. Without giving him time to reply, you ducked through the throng and threw your arms around him.

That was the first time things had seemed odd.

He didn’t shrug you off exactly. In fact, he hugged you just as tight as before. Almost. His heart just wasn’t in it.

You broke and a confused frown flitted across your face. Where was the boy who, only an hour ago, made himself late to his own class for just a few more seconds with you?

You decided not to take it personally. Eddie’s mind was so vast he often ended up lost inside it, chasing thoughts along their labyrinthine courses. No doubt he’d been distracted by an inkling of an idea for a campaign or a melody for a new song.

Nosing affectionately at his shoulder, you walked hand in hand. You made a mental point to make your notes extra detailed this lesson.

Eddie wasn’t going to be paying attention.

‘Hey! Hey Eddie! Wait!’

The next time things felt strange was when Gareth started hollering down the hall. You spotted him, fighting through the bustling crowd and squeezed Eddie’s hand to make him stop.

‘Huh?’

He was still lost in a dreamworld.

You nodded; he followed your gaze. Gareth pushed through the last wall of people, all but collapsing at your feet. He was bent double, catching his breath.

‘What happened?’

Gareth looked up with a wicked grin, ‘I just got off the phone!’ He straightened, ‘Remember that guy we met last week? The one who runs that club the next town over? The Sunrise?’ Gareth was practically tap-dancing with excitement. ‘He said he wants us to open Wednesday night!’ He threw his hands out, anticipating his friends reaction.

It never came.

‘Oh, that’s awesome, man!’ Eddie’s voice was little more than a monotone. His features pulled into an imitation of enthusiasm but both you and Gareth could tell it wasn’t genuine.

Gareth visibly deflated but before he could probe any further, Eddie shouldered his bag and kept on walking to class. He looked at you instead.

‘What was that?’

You smiled apologetically, ‘He’s probably just in shock,’ you offered, ‘It’ll hit him in half an hour, I’m sure!’

He shrugged managing a half-hearted laugh. ‘That’s so exciting though Gareth! Do you know if it’s a regular slot?’

He shook his head, ‘No, but if we do good…’ he trailed off, thinking what it could mean for the band. By all accounts the Sunrise over in Clivesdale wasn’t much bigger than the Hideout but still, it was progress. Exposure!

‘I can’t wait to come see you guys there!’

He grinned, ‘Thanks… you’ll talk to Eddie?’

‘Yeah,’ you nodded, ‘I’ll talk some sense into him!’

With a smile, you turned and hurried to catch up with your boyfriend, wondering what could have gotten into him?

Whatever it was still hadn’t gone away by fourth period!

O’Donnell was blabbering on about the celestial symbolism in Romeo and Juliet, a topic dull enough the second time round, you didn’t know how Eddie could cope on the third.

He had his head in his hands. Maybe he was tired? You though, maybe that was it?

But Eddie wasn’t asleep.

Between glances, you saw him shifting, dragging his pen over a page in swooping, sloping curves, outlining nothing in particular.

‘Mr Munson!’ O’Donnell snapped. You both flinched at the loud noise. Eddie looked up, not even bothering to make a sarcastic comment. ‘How does Mercutio’s introductory scene foreshadow his demise in Act Three?’ She demanded, arms crossed and a look of contempt on her face.

He took a second to focus then mumbled a garbled answer that seemed to satisfy. She hummed, rolling her eyes and turned back to the board. Eddie looked even more dejected than before. You weren’t having it.

Tearing a page from your notebook, you scribbled down the most ridiculous joke you could think of. When your teacher’s back was turned, you slid the paper onto your boyfriends desk and watched him in your peripheral.

He unfolded it and you saw his eyes comb over your handwriting, ‘What do you call a fish with no eyes?’ before he looked over at you with a raised eyebrow.

Grinning like an idiot, your pen scrawled the answer and passed it over. ‘A fsh!’

It was awful, you knew, but just the kind of thing that would normally send Eddie into hysterics. You waited for his face to turn red and tears to prick in his eyes but he barely even cracked a smile. Just rolled his eyes and sent back the note with a scribbled, ‘Ha Ha!’

You slumped in your seat, glaring at his spiky penmanship.

Something was definitely wrong.

That brought you to lunchtime. You were at a loss.

If he was this tired, he’d have skipped class and napped in his van, probably insisted you come with him.

If it was a story or a song he was concocting, he wouldn’t look so miserable!

Jeff and Gareth had just sat down and Dustin started regaling everyone with teasers for his campaign.

This Friday was his first time DM’ing for Hellfire. He was giddy with nerves and desperate for some brotherly advice from his idol. When none came, his face fell.

‘That sounds amazing Dustin!’ You said, ‘Don’t you think so Eds?’ You nudged him pointedly, hoping to elicit a response.

‘Mmm,’ was all you got.

You sighed, ‘I reckon Henderson’s gonna give you a run for your money!’ Perhaps riling him up would work, but Dustin’s modest protests gave him plenty of cover. You weren’t giving up that easily!

‘I bet you’ll even let him sit on the throne!’

The table fell silent.

Eddie’s throne was notoriously a touchy subject. Rumour had it, he’d once cancelled a session because the drama club had stolen it for their show. It was sacrilegious to suggest such a thing. The party watched with bated breath.

‘Whatever,’ Eddie mumbled, still refusing to meet your eye.

They gaped.

That was the last straw. You seized his hand, ignoring his complaints, and dragged him out of the cafeteria.

‘What’s with them?’ Dustin watched you go.

Jeff chuckled, poking his pasta with his fork, ‘You know,’ He shrugged, ‘Couple stuff!’

‘What?’

‘They’ve probably gone to make out or something!’

The three freshmen looked perplexed. Gareth snickered, ‘Henderson, my dear boy, when a man and a woman love each other very much…’

‘Ew!’

‘Gross!’

‘Shut up!’

You pulled Eddie down the corridors, leaving his questions unanswered.

‘Where are we going?’ He whined, trailing behind you and almost tripping over his own feet. You didn’t speak until you were almost outside. The parking lot was visible through the double doors at the end of the hall. You stopped short, turning to face him.

Eddie looked frustrated. His chocolate brown eyes confused under his furrowed brow. Yours searched him a last ditch effort to figure out the problem on your own.

You stepped closer. Before he could open his mouth, you jabbed him in the shoulder and darted away. ‘Tag! You’re it!’

Eddie let out a huff, taken by surprise. ‘What?’

You’d run the length of the hall, he was still standing there. ‘Can’t catch me!’ You teased.

‘Baby, I’m really not in the mood!’ He trudged after you. His steps were slow and laboured but you kept skipping backward, maintaining the space between you.

‘Yeah, coz you’re too slow!’ You goaded before pushing through the doors and running out into the sunlight.

Eddie cursed under his breath. He took off after you.

You were halfway across the parking lot by the time he got outside. Your laughter echoed back, spurring him on. Wind whistled in his ears, raked its fingers through his hair and clothes as he raced to catch you. Blood pumping through his veins, the ground thudding beneath his feet, Eddie heard his own laughter mingle with yours.

He was gaining on you.

Tarmac turned to earth, muffling your footfalls as you ran through the woods. You darted between trees like a wood nymph, laughing at the wide open sky as your lover chased after you.

Out of nowhere, arms closed around your waist, making you shriek as you fell tumbling into a heap. Somehow, Eddie managed to land beneath you, bearing the brunt of impact but just as quickly, he rolled you onto your back, pinning you to the ground by your forearms.

‘Got you!’ He declared.

You squirmed, still giggling. A tree root was digging into your back but you didn’t care.

Your plan had worked.

Eddie’s face was flushed, chest heaving. His eyes were sparkling and, framed by his soft curls, a dazzling smile had taken up residence on his lips.

‘That’s better!’ You wriggled an arm free to cup his jaw.

Eddie pulled back, ‘What is?’ Confusion dimmed the glow a little.

‘You!’ You laughed, ‘You haven’t smiled since this morning!’

He looked surprised, ‘Yes I have!’

‘Have not!’

‘How would you know?’ He retorted, climbing off of you and folding his arms. You sat up, an incredulous look spreading over your face.

‘Do you really think I wouldn’t have noticed you smiling?’

That caught him off guard. He ducked his head but you saw him blush. ‘So!’ Inching closer, you tucked your legs up and nosed against his shoulder. ‘What’s going on?’

‘What? Nothing!’

He flinched and looked away, like he was trying to shrink himself to the size of a mouse.

‘Must be a whole lot of nothing!’

‘What’s that s’posed to mean?’

Was he serious right now?

‘You didn’t say anything when Gareth told you you’ve got a new gig! You didn’t get excited about Dustin’s campaign-‘

Eddie tried to interrupt but you barrelled on, listing the incidents on your fingers, ‘You didn’t freak out when I said he could sit on the throne, and you didn’t laugh at my joke in O’Donnell’s’

‘I didn’t laugh at the joke,’ he cut in,’ because it was terrible!’

‘Hmm?’ You nodded sarcastically, ‘Try again Munson! You always laugh at my jokes!’

It took every bit of willpower he possessed to keep a straight face.

In school it was easy. He’d been wearing the mask for so long, but out here, alone with you, it was impossible. With you he couldn’t hide. With you, he couldn’t be anything but honest.

‘Watch out!’ You dug an elbow into his ribs, ‘that was almost a smile! You be careful!’

He ducked away again, pulling his hair across his face to conceal his ever widening grin.

‘Seriously!’ You moved closer, a softer tone taking over as you wound your arms around his and leant your cheek against his shoulder, ‘What’s going on?’

A breathy chuckle escaped his lips. A small insignificant sound but it meant the world to hear it. Eddie didn’t answer for a while but he wasn’t deflecting anymore. You could see the wheels turning, words writing themselves in his mind before he spoke them. You waited patiently.

‘Jason said something,’ he muttered, ‘I let him get under my skin.’

He felt you stiffen, ‘What did he say?’ The tension in your voice was thinly veiled. Eddie shrugged, hoping to calm you down,

‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘It matters if it upset you!’

He felt your eyes trained on him. You weren’t going to let this go. He let out another sigh, hands picking at the earth, absentmindedly tearing up blades of grass and crumpled leaves. ‘He saw me saying goodbye to you before Click’s,’ a slight pause, your gaze didn’t waver, ‘Asked how long I thought I had until you came to your senses and broke up with me.’

Eddie scrunched up his nose, a bitter taste in his mouth from the poisonous memory. He still didn’t look up.

‘And I know! It’s stupid! I know what you’re gonna say, I shouldn’t let him get to me, but it’s just… I started wondering what would happen if one day you did… wake up and realise all the worst parts of me and I just-!’

‘I’m gonna kill him!’

‘Baby-!’ Eddie reached for your hand when you started to stand.

‘If he thinks he can go around talking to you like that!’ You were furious but stopped when you saw the look on Eddie’s face. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes, his mouth half open in a silent plea.

You sat back down and threw your arms around him instead. He pulled you closer, resting his head in the crook of your neck. It fit like it had always been meant to. You cradled his head in your hand.

The tears didn’t fall. Your warm embrace softened the sting, but he sniffed a few times, knowing he was safe if they did.

‘Eddie, I’m sorry!’ You murmured, stroking his hair gently. He just held on tighter.

You weren’t the only one who loved him, he knew that. He had Hellfire and the band and before them, Uncle Wayne, but you were the first time person he’d experienced who was ready to fight the bullies yourself. You didn’t settle for their disdain, refused to be complicit in their disgust. You were ready to fight for him.

He let out a shaky sigh as you leant back to look at him, cupping his cheeks in your palms. ‘If loving you means I’ve lost my senses, I hope I stay crazy forever!’

His red rimmed eyes welled up at the conviction in your eyes, in your voice. You pressed a tender kiss to his mouth, sealing your words as a promise.

Eddie melted against you, relishing your touch. When you broke, his cheeks were wet but his eyes a little brighter than before.

‘There you are!’ You beamed, thumbing away a stray tear and watching the soft upward curve on your boyfriends mouth. ‘There’s my smiley boy!’

You kissed him again and instantly felt the smile widen against you. Eddie kissed back, wrapping you in a deep embrace, filled with all the enthusiasm you’d missed before.

You giggled as your noses bumped together and before long, he was laughing too.

The school bell rang in the distance but neither of you had any intention of going back to class. You stayed outside among the trees for the whole of fifth period, laughing and joking until your sides hurt and you were certain Eddie had forgotten the cruel words.

He gushed about the band and their new opportunity, agonised over the Setlist while you teased him about what you might wear to see them play.

As you wandered in the vague direction of school, you talked through the hints Dustin had dropped about his storyline and the worries he expressed.

‘Kid’s got nothing to worry about! He learnt from the best!’

‘Oh did he now?’

‘Of course he did!’ Eddie mocked offence, then frowned. ‘But you are gonna have to tell him you were kidding about the throne!’

‘No way! You know I couldn’t bear to see his little face fall!’

‘You shouldn’t have got his hopes up then!’

The school building came into view. You stopped, lingering hand in hand on the edge of the tree line. The familiar green and orange stripes looked cold and foreboding. Instead of a beacon for school spirit, the tiger motif on the side of the wall seemed menacing.

Eddie squeezed your hand, ‘Back into the fray, my lady?’

You nodded, ‘I meant it, you know? I’m gonna kill Jason!’

Eddie laughed, ‘You’d better not! I don’t have enough money to bail you out of jail!’ He shoved you playfully but you wouldn’t relent.

‘Nobody takes away my baby’s smile!’

Eddie caught your other hand, grazing his lips over your knuckles, a reassuring gesture and a pledge of gratitude. You hugged his arm all the way back to class.

This time, when you passed him another terrible joke, Eddie nearly had to excuse himself. His cheeks were bright red. Tears of restrained laughter streaming down his face with a hand clamped over a Cheshire Cat grin as his curls shook ever so slightly.

You snickered quietly, watching him in the corner of your eye. You wondered what you wouldn’t do just to see that smile.

Jason Carver went home with a black eye that night!

***

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it please reblog or comment and let me know what you thought!

Masterlist

Taglist: @neewtmas @sadbitchfangirl

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grandlinedreams · 5 months

Note

Hiii, long time lurker first time requester here!! (on anon bcos tumblr is my safe place, I hope that’s okay :3) I was wondering if I could submit a request before you close them? 💕

I love how you write lighthearted scenes with Law, it’s always the perfect balance of comedy while staying true to his character! So, may I propose: the fake relationship trope with Law x reader?? Yknow the iconic scenario when two characters who are definitely not dating find themselves in a sticky situation so the reader pulls the ‘oh this is my boyfriend/girlfriend’ card completely out of the blue and the other person just has to kinda go along with it so as not to blow their cover?

Idek how that would even come about in a scenario involving Law but I just know he would be so exasperated but still committed to going along with it hehe

Anon your mind is 😙👌🏼 chefs kiss I love that trope and I hope that I made it work well bc i wanted to go the humor route but decided that the Kaz/Inej coding of reader and Law needed some more food so ㅡ

[heads up!: spy!reader, reader is not specifically gendered but they do wear a dress, angst, Law's a lil dumb okay]

The party is beautiful.

Soft orchestral music plays over the soft din of conversation, the sway of couples in lavish clothing and practiced weaving of staff through the clusters of socialites, trays of food held aloft and offered at various intervals.

Flute of champagne in hand, you watch from your place near a pillar, half-studying the people around you, half watching the fizz of tiny bubbles in your glass.

"Not much of a dancer?" The speaker's tone is light and conversational, and when you look over, you half-recognize the man now standing next to you. He's the grandson of the man hosting this entire soiree ㅡ and you turn towards him.

"Unfortunately no," you answer with a demure smile, then dip your head to look through your eyelashes, tapping the rim of your glass against your lip. "I'm waiting on someone."

You know his type, playing right into the invisible appeal as his gaze flickers, then brightens as he offers you his arm. "Perhaps I can at least offer a dance in the meantime?"

Your smile widens just a little, the careful bat of your eyes. "Perhaps you can."

Your flute is set down in favor of tucking your arm into his and allowing him to sweep you out further onto the floor with the whisper of your dress against your legs. It's heavy and far from what you're accustomed to, but worth the extra beri for the way you fit right in amongst the others.

The press of his other hand is warm against your back, just shy of touching exposed skin ㅡ and you welcome the touch of dizziness from the champagne to keep from balking at the idea of him touching you.

"This person you're waiting for," your partner says as he leads you through a graceful arc past another couple, "shame on them for keeping such a lovely creature such as yourself waiting for so long."

Your skin crawls, even as you laugh softly. "I assure you, they'reㅡ"

"There you are." A familiar voice makes you turn, finding sharp gold eyes focused on you, then your partner. Trafalgar Law looks less than thrilled about much at any given moment but right now, he looks livid, jaw taut as he watches you and your partner scramble for something to say.

"My apologies," your dance partner says, his expression shifting to mask his discomfort at Law's sudden appearance. "I take it that this is your…"

"My boyfriend," you answer smoothly, sheepish and apologetic as you disengage your arm from his and step towards Law. "It was lovely to dance with you. But if you'll excuse us for a moment?"

You don't give him or Law a chance to answer, grabbing the latter's hand to pull him with you as you hurry away as quickly as your dress and situational awareness will allow you. You're still working, after all, even if Law showing up has potentially jammed a wrench into the cogs.

What is he even doing here? You want to demand answers, furious that he'd decided to show up unannounced ㅡ like he doesn't trust you. That alone both stokes your fury and douses it in cold water, an odd juxtaposition that ultimately just makes you feel sick.

Law lets you drag him down the hallway, the hard click of your shoes against the marble floor, studying the bounce of your carefully styled hair, the way the jeweled end of your hairpin sways with your movement.

You'd been lucky enough to weave your web of deception strong enough to secure yourself a place to stay close to your target, and you let go of Law's hand in favor of fussing with the door before yanking him inside.

Law watches your shoulders sag with visible relief as you shut the door, then turn towards him. "What were you thinking? I had this under control."

He knows. He knows you're more than capable of handling things like this, have proven yourself time and time again ㅡ he doesn't need to check in on you. But he doesn't want to admit the real reason, that he'd been jealous of someone else's hands on you, touching you the way he should be.

Of course he'd never admit that, he'd rather take it to the grave with him than offer the open wound of vulnerability when he isn't sure you'd return his feelings.

"You know what?" You say when he's quiet for too long, tone sharp with hurt wrapped in exhausted disbelief at his actions, "I don't want to hear it."

He should apologize. Tell you that he hadn't meant to almost blow your cover, that he hadn't been thinking ㅡ but instead he watches you cross the room with the rustle of your dress, trying to clean up the clutter of just hours before.

"I just wish you'd trust me," you say, and Law can tell that it's more than just tonight that's bothering you.

"I do trust you."

You scoff, silence broken by the hard click of plastic cased cosmetics that you toss roughly back into your bag and then reach to tug the pin out of your hair. "Could have fooled me."

Your tone is scathing, all raised hackles and sharp teeth ㅡ remnants of the wild thing you'd once been and in some ways still are. You, for all your sharp edges and uncomfortable truths, still find a way to nestle in his chest, tuck yourself in his heart in ways that terrify him.

Your huff of frustration breaks Law out of his thoughts to find you struggling with the zipper at the top of your back, and he crosses the room without thinking.

The silent bat of his hand against yours makes you stiffen, hands moving to the bodice of your dress as he pinches the key of the zipper between his fingers.

"I do trust you," he repeats softly. He struggles, the drag of the zipper teeth agonizingly slow. "I apologize if I haven't made that clear."

You stare at the mess of your bed. "I don't understand what the issue is, then." Your words are a knife you know how to wield and do it well, tight grip on the hilt and sharp tip at proverbial underbelly. "You do your job, I do mine. It's simple."

And yet it isn't. As much as Law wishes that it were, it's far from it. Because he cares about you, cares for you in ways he's trying so hard not to.

The slow gap of your skin exposed, soft and unguarded that entices him, makes him want in ways he knows he shouldn't. You should pull away, demand he leave, that you'll see him later when you return to the Polar Tang.

You don't. Instead, you let him pull the zipper down further. And maybe, if he were a different man, that would be enough.

It isn't.

The ghost of his fingers against your back makes you stiffen, but you don't discourage him. They slide along the slope of your shoulders, make an invisible path he entertains the brief fantasy of following with his mouth.

And maybe he could, maybe you'd let him ㅡ after all, you'd told those party goers he was your boyfriend. It'd been hasty, quick thinking on your part, but brilliant ㅡ as always. You never miss a beat, always thinking ahead. What he admires about you is the same thing that drives him crazy ㅡ you're always ahead of him, even in this. He knows, and is aware all he has to do is meet you in the middle.

He pulls away.

"Do you regret allowing me to join your crew, Law?" Your voice, ever that blade, slices through the uncomfortable silence to twist deeper into the ache of his chest. "If you do, this is the perfect time to tell me to leave. I'm sure you can come up with something to tell the others."

You're offering him an out. A way to escape this complicated tangle, let him deflect and deny until you're nothing but a distant memory and a handful of reminders left around the Polar Tang. He should let you leave.

"I want you," he says instead, and he means to follow that up with something, but it falls flat in the now stilted gap between you.

You exhale. "You want me."

You turn towards him, moonlight against the slope of your neck, the dip of your collarbone. Your eyes gleam, flashing with emotion. "And how would you have me, Law? Fully clothed, head turned so our lips can never meet?"

That knife slips between his ribs and up, punctures his heart, lets him silently bleed out between every breath. He's reminded that you don't wear the boiler suit, your clothes unadorned with his jolly roger ㅡ a reminder that he does not own you (nor does he want to. He just wants you to stay.), and you are not his. But you could be, you tell him silently. You need him to meet you in the middle. That's all.

Something in your face shifts, breaking in his silence. "I will have you without armor, Trafalgar Law, or I will not have you at all."

#ㅡmine.#one piece scenario #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

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painted-bees · 5 months

Text

[cw: explicit content🔞]

March 18th 2009

The top floor balcony of the humble recording studio overlooked a small backroad. It was just high enough to grant a view over the roofs of surrounding buildings, out towards the mountains, across the harbour. But thick cloud cover and the darkness of night collaborated to hide the Rockies from sight this evening. Instead, Raf’s gaze washed impassively over the array of city lights that extended across the harbour and disappeared into the distant North Vancouver neighbourhoods. He took a sip from the bottle of water in his hand and invited the evening chill to sober him up.

Behind him, the din of party revelry outcompeted the exterior ambiance of late-night city traffic. Hi-Note wasn’t usually so lively this close to midnight. Its business hours only ran until 8pm at the latest, and, save for the evenings when he used to jam here with Magritte, Raf usually had the place vacated and locked up within that same hour.

Today was a special occasion. It was the junior technician, Herbie’s, birthday. Since he had little where else to celebrate, Nels had hosted a surprise party for him in the studio. It wasn’t the first birthday Herb had celebrated in Vancouver, but it was the first birthday following a rather heartbreaking split with his once-steady girlfriend. The usually jovial lad had been, understandably, a lot more quietly introspective over the past few months. Once Nels had gained the knowledge that Herb had no big, exciting birthday plans this year, the rest was inevitable.

Raf had driven to work, and wholly planned to drive back home. Towards that end, he enjoyed his drink and smoke early, cut himself off early, and was now finally feeling clear minded enough to collect Margie and call it a night. Intending to do exactly that, Raf turned towards the sliding door of the balcony, downing his last gulp of water. And–discovered that Margie had found him first.

A smug grin and a playful wave preceded her sliding open the door. She stepped out onto the balcony, pulling the door shut behind her. “Ey, nice hiding spot, Ephrem!” She rubbed her hands together, watching her breath hang in the chilly air as she approached him.

Raf relented to leaning back against the balcony railing as Magritte dropped her elbows on it, beside him. “I was just about to go in and get you.”

She sighed and looked out across the harbour. “Past your bedtime?”

“Nah, the party’s winding down anyway. But I kinda wish I found you out here sooner. This view is really nice.” She sighed wistfully. “Glittery.”

He provided a self-depreciating smirk. You could set your watch to Raf’s night time routine and, typically, if he wasn’t in bed between eleven and eleven-thirty, he’d be grumpy if there wasn’t a good reason for it. A birthday, he supposed, was as good a reason as any.

“If you’re not ready to head home yet…” He allowed his easy capitulation to hang unspoken in the space between them.

Raf made no motion to herd her back inside. Instead, he placed his empty water bottle down by his feet and then settled further against the railing. He wasn’t worried about waiting much longer out here. Magritte had a low tolerance for cold, and the chilly March breeze would chase her back inside within a reasonable amount of time. Still, he didn’t want to give her the sense he was in any kind of hurry. Genuinely, he wasn’t.

“Yanno, this is the weirdest place I’ve ever worked at.” Magritte furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “Just a bunch of guys being pals, but also…not weird about it. And stuff gets done. And I–” She turned to look at him, “I help with that. Like, actually!” She turned her back to the landscape, electing to mirror Raf’s posture. “Okay, this sounds stupid but like…I’ve never felt good at a job before. Not just that, I’ve been proactive? I get to do stuff before someone has to ask me to do it? And, I do it properly? Wild. Nels even likes me!” She beamed up at him. “He called me ‘Supergirl’ today after hearing the vocal mixing I did for Cybele Fray.”

“Yeah…” Magritte pressed her palms against her cheeks and smooshed her face in a pensive gesture that wasn’t intended to look as silly as it did. “I’m worried I’ll lose interest and pitter out eventually. But until then, I’ll just enjoy feeling useful. And smart.”

Raf favoured her with a smirk, and wrinkled his brow in substitute for a shewed shrug. “Nels loved you the minute he saw you. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the first job you feel competent at is the first job that has you working with audio and such. You’re doing what you like doing.”

And, Raf thought, employed by someone who actually knows how to manage you.

It’s true that Hi-Note made excellent use of Margie’s savant-like skills, but not all of it had been absolutely enthralling to her. A bored Margie was difficult to keep on task, but somehow Nels had managed to navigate her ‘on again, off again’ pattern of productivity. Largely, Raf noticed that Nels cycled her off monotonous tasks before they had a chance to bore her–no matter their state of completion. And then, he’d put her back on it as soon as she looked ready to smooth her brain on something simple and repetitive again. Raf had taken that observation–and applied it at home. Very quickly, he helped her build a habit of taking just one dish out of the sink, washing it, and putting it away, any time she found herself in the kitchen during a moment of aimless roving. Not always, mind you…but often enough. One thing at a time, and the order of it doesn’t matter.

Raf considered whether or not he ought to affirm to her for the umpteenth time that she was one of the most brilliant people he had ever met. But the window of opportunity closed when she continued talking.

“Life’s been really…easy this year, so far. Like, the easiest it’s ever been. I like it. A lot.” She turned her eyes up to him with an unspoken question that he couldn’t quite read.

“Same.”

“Really?” Her questioning gaze pressed further.

Raf measured her for a moment.

Yet–there she was.

Until she showed up, he had been living alone in a two bedroom, downtown apartment; a feat of luxury by Vancouver standards. He’d have described it as a relatively ‘small’ space; each room was big enough to fit a bed, a dresser, a night stand, and little else. But, two bedrooms were still two bedrooms. Near Yaletown, no less. Truth be told, the income he was making at Hi-Note would not have been enough to afford it, if he had to rely on it alone. But he had been rather uncompromising about having a spare room for guests–until Magritte moved in. Now, that room was hers; guests be damned.

It was a bit strange to think about. Generally, Raf preferred being alone. He found that living with anyone else always came with more stress than it was worth; whether it was with a steady romantic partner, or a family member. He was fairly certain that he’d never lend himself to the horrors of rooming with a friend who barely knew him. The very idea had felt like a violation against the sanctity of his home–the one place he could withdraw and hide into when he needed the peace and quiet to sort himself out. He didn’t trust family nor lovers to respect his space when he most needed it. A roommate as impersonal as a friend would have been much worse, and for absolutely nothing.

He had first invited Magritte to crash at his place on an impulse. Though he feared the precedent it may have set, she didn’t overstay her welcome. In fact, she had barely stayed at all. That hadn’t surprised him nearly as much as his resulting disappointment had. And so, he invited her again. And again. And again. And each time, he confirmed for himself that she was simply…good company. He slept easier on the nights she occupied the guest room. His mood each morning felt buoyed by her presence, even before she emerged to greet him in the kitchen. He just liked talking to her. The baseline of her mood seemed to always be several levels more pleasant than his own, and the way she carried her joviality made it infectious, not grating. Even on the mornings when she had shuffled into the kitchen muttering a preemptive apology for her irritable mood, she had been sweet about it.

Magritte did something to his brain chemicals that medications just couldn’t compete with. But what that was exactly, he had no god damn clue. The only other thing he could think of that would come close to eliciting the same kind of response from him–might have been something like…having a box of fluffy kittens gently dumped on him. Maybe that’s what she was to him; a box of sweet, soft, wobbly kittens–personified. It would certainly explain the cuteness-aggression she often provoked; that overwhelming desire to just scrunch her up into a little ball and tear her apart with his teeth…affectionately.

Oftenly, so did she.

Now she had her own key to the apartment and, over the winter, the guest bedroom had slowly been transformed into her disorderly, war-torn little nest. A true nightmare to behold for all the clutter and chaos; clothing haphazardly strewn across every inch of floor, and a plethora of dirty cups and plates on–and around–the nightstand by her bed.

Strangely, it didn’t bother him. She had warned him of her negligent cleanliness habits well in advance. In fact, she had initially cited it as her reason for not wanting to overstay at his place. In response, he had given her the room to do with as she pleased–on the sole condition that she kept the door closed and ensured her mess never breached containment. If he didn’t like it, he simply didn’t have to look at it. Aside from leaving dishes in the sink (and occasionally on the living room coffee table), Magritte had been pretty good at maintaining her end of the bargain. By and large, her messes stayed confined to her room.

When it came to the matter of Raf coveting his peace and quiet, Magritte had proven to be no trouble at all. That was remarkable, considering how loud she was in almost everything she did. But, most evenings after work, she straight up ignored him. She spent her time holed up in her bedroom, playing music and browsing the internet. Raf had once expressed appreciation for Margie’s unobtrusiveness–and was met with a mixture of disbelief and tremendous relief from her. Apparently, most others hadn’t found the same kind of comfort he did in a roommate that happily kept to themselves. She had grown accustomed to worrying that her ‘shut-in’ behaviour was excessive and inconsiderate, because if someone didn’t come and pull her away from her hobbies, she was liable to get lost in her solitary activities for hours. For Raf’s part, he was just content knowing she was there if he felt in need of company, but rarely did he feel compelled to call upon her for it. He liked her little routine of being present in the mornings, joining him for lunch, winding down with him for an hour after work, and then emerging once more for dinner before they both disappeared to their respective corners of the apartment for the rest of the evening–until bedtime.

While Magritte spent the days in her room, she developed a habit of spending most of her nights in his bed. He accepted the blame for that. Generally preferring to sleep in cooler temperatures, he neglected to consider that his love for a brisk chill wasn’t universally shared. To his quiet horror, he learned one morning that Margie’s feet were often corpse cold. The nail beds on her toes would turn purple from poor circulation, she’d get sensitive little blisters under the skin, and the ache of being chilled through the bone would keep her awake at night. Genuinely, the bones in her feet were colder than the ambient temperature. He wouldn’t have thought it possible if he hadn’t felt the impossible iciness of her skin with his own hands.

She had laughed, telling him that this was just how things always were for her during the winter months. It’s why she so greatly preferred the sweltering heat of summer. And that’s when Raf offered to let her cosy up in his bed. He always felt too warm at night, and she had literal ice blocks for feet. The solution seemed pretty obvious to him.

And so, she had spent most of the winter nights with her feet pressed against his back, tucked behind his knees, or sandwiched between his legs. That same arrangement led Raf to discover that sleep came easy when he had something–or someone–to curl his arms around at night. And just like that, over the course of three short months, Magritte had nearly extinguished his reluctant dependence on sleeping medication.

As far as roommates were concerned, Magritte was…an unusual one. If he had tried to explain any of the peculiar details about their mutual arrangements to literally anyone else, he knew what it all sounded like. He had considered that maybe he was attracted to Margie; head-over heels in love with her. The problem was, he had been in love before. It made him stupid. And it made him unmanageably paranoid. Weird elation tangled with exhausting, antagonising suspicion; the highest highs and lowest lows. Margie didn’t make him stupid nor particularly paranoid. In fact, he had been able to navigate her with a level of clear-minded ease that was somewhat unusual to him. Perhaps it was in the way she spoke plainly and honestly with him. Despite how hard he looked for it, there was never any hidden nuance to the things Magritte said, wanted, or felt.

Paranoia still sunk its hooks into him the same way he had grown to expect it–but a different part of him, a voice of reason that he had been working hard to cultivate, granted him a very small, very rare sense of satisfaction when he turned it to Margie’s defence. So he cared for her, at the very least. But she didn’t burden him with the dizzying gauntlet of infatuation. He wasn’t in love with her.

But she was easy to be with. And, under her influence, life had felt much kinder.

“Yeah, really.”

Raf watched relief wash over Margie’s features, and she let out a little chuckle. “Oh, good. ‘Cus, yanno…usually, if I’m having a good time, it’s ‘cus someone else is running themselves ragged for it. And I don’t want you to–”

“I promised I’d tell you if things ever started feeling off,” Raf cut in. “It’s been weird, but not off-putting. I’ve liked it, so far.”

Her eyes held him with an expression he couldn’t quite identify, something close to tearful. But there was a delighted, grateful reverence in her gaze that wounded him in a peculiar way. He felt compelled to soothe it.

“Hey.” Impassively, he pushed himself off the balcony railing to stand and turn towards her. “Can I try something?”

Her mouth twitched upward in a quizzical smirk. “What?” Raf tilted his head to one side, and leaned in just enough to spur a response from her, “Oh-! Yeah? Yeah!? Ok, yes!”

He kissed her.

If he liked it? If it made him uneasy? If it did anything for him, at all?

It was a soft, gentle, fleeting little gesture; he didn’t hold it for more than a second. It was just a taste, to see–

To see what?

He lingered as he considered it, and just barely had time to register the broad grin on Magritte’s face before he felt her warm hands cup his jaw. She pulled him into another, far more impassioned kiss of her own–and he met her lips with the energy to match.

As her fingers snaked around the back of his neck, he felt his hair raise beneath her touch. He leaned into her more bodily, bracing against the railing with a firm, steadying grasp. He hadn’t intended anything more than a chaste little peck, but he felt Margie’s soft lips part to invite his tongue, and was loath to leave her wanting. Her fingers ran up the back of his head, combing through his hair, and then curled back down to tenderly caress behind his ears.

A thrill of warmth originating from her hands shivered through his body–to his groin. It coaxed a surprised purr out of his throat, and he caught it in his mouth before turning into a snort through his nose. He broke the kiss, pulling away from Magritte’s grasp to drop his forearms onto the cold balcony railing beside her, curling over himself to rest his forehead atop them.

There was a moment of silence as Raf found himself more thankful than ever for the chill evening breeze. And then Margie’s tentative voice met his ear.

“S-sorry. I got…I got a little carried away.”

Raf reluctantly lifted his head to shoot her a self-deprecating smile. “Not just you.”

He watched her brow furrow with concerned bewilderment for a brief moment before the combination of details clicked in her mind.

“Oh-!” Her eyes grew wide with mischievous delight, “I gave you a boner!” The exclamation came as hushed as she could manage, but her triumphant grin spoke volumes.

He shut his eyes in a beleaguered wince. “Don’t sound so pleased.” He opened them again when he felt her lean against his arm.

She tilted her head to catch his gaze, and wore a cheeky smile. “We can go home and do something about it, if you want.”

Hold on, now. “Nnn…”

Well, maybe?

He cast her an incredulous look.

“Or not!” She pulled back with an exaggerated shrug. “I know people get weird about that kinda thing–or–maybe I’m weird about it. I dunno, I’ve never been bothered by, uh…” The sentence dissolved into a weak chuckle, and her cheeks flushed pink under the faint, warm lighting that emanated from within the studio.

Raf had never been one for casual flings. Some manner of romantic attachment had always been prerequisite before the idea of sex could carry any appeal to him at all. But then again, he never had a friend as openly straightforward as Margie before. She was as uncomplicated as they came, and Raf recklessly wondered if that would at all be compromised by taking up the offer she had just presented to him. It felt irresponsible to even consider it, but…

Your stupid fingers in my hair got me feeling some kind of way.

Embarrassing, how easily he had been turned on. But then again, it had been a fair few years since anyone had touched him like that and, woe betide him, a man was still a man after all.

It was wrong about Margie. And if it wasn’t, well.

And then there was the matter of Margie’s confidence. He liked the kiss–he obviously liked the kiss. Her ensuing proposition wasn’t a wholly unwelcome one, either. But, for someone who claimed she wasn't able to read between the lines with people, she was an expert adept at reading far too much into anything that could be perceived as a rejection. She had escalated things, but he had started it–and he didn’t want her to feel shame for reciprocating the way she had. The awful, feral part of his brain that he loathed screamed like a banshee; the usual chorus about ulterior motives and emotional manipulation. It was wrong, of course. It was always wrong.

Except for when it wasn’t.

If I die, I die. Fuck.

“Sure, let's try it on.”

Margie stared up at him with those wide, blue eyes, but her brow was tense with uncertainty. “Really?”

He provided a small shrug. “We already share a bed. This’ll just be another weird thing we do in our growing list of weird things. Maybe we’ll change our mind on the way home. But at the very least, I wouldn’t mind another kiss or few.” To illustrate his point, he leaned in and pressed his lips sweetly against her forehead.

When he pulled away, Margie stood up straight and bounced on her heels, holding her face in her hands. “Okay, okay! Yeah!” She darted towards the door and slid it open. “I’ll go get my coat, and–!”

She stopped short of scurrying inside, and turned to ensnare him in a tight little hug. Raf didn’t have time to close his arms around her in response before she broke away from him again to scamper down the hall. He stared after her for a bewildered moment as she disappeared around the corner, towards the stairs.

By the time he caught up with her again, she was already downstairs saying her farewells to the Hi-Note crew. She wrapped Herb up in an energetic hug that he happily reciprocated.

A large hand clapped Raf on the back before a familiar voice behind him asked, “Everything good?”

He turned to see Nels favouring him with a warm smile.

“Yeah, I was just…” He pointed a loose finger towards the ceiling, “taking a moment.”

Of everyone in the room, Nels was the only person who knew about Raf’s disorders. He was the first glimpse Raf ever had of what a ‘proper’ father was supposed to look like. The man was raising three daughters at home and brought that same air of patient, fatherly responsibility into the office with him each day. Raf, in particular, had been adopted by him as a kind of nephew. Nels was a best friend to his Uncle Bill, and Bill trusted him to help Raf settle into a good circle of friends and acquaintances. Raf had been reluctant to grow familiar with anyone who wasn’t his Uncle, but with a significant amount of encouragement from both his Uncle and his therapist, Raf stuck it out with Hi-Note through the several occasions he had been tempted to quit on a bad vibe, misinterpreted comment, or fearful hunch. So far, it had been working out favourably for him. The pay wasn’t great, but Raf didn’t need the income of a steady job. Rather, his therapist had been right to say that getting out of the house and expanding his ‘library of positive experiences’ was much better for his health than isolating himself at home, rotting under the grimey weight of his paranoid assumptions and suspicions.

“You got a piece of cake, right?” Nels fished for an excuse to keep Raf around.

“Nah, Margie scarfed down enough for both of us.”

Reeling back with a dissatisfied but good humoured growl, Nels insisted, “Oh, you gotta try this one. The icing is–”

“Too sweet,” Raf cut in with a defusing laugh. “I had a bite. It’s good, but a taste was plenty.”

“It’s already midnight,” Margie’s voice interjected, “If Raf had it his way, he’d have been in bed an hour ago. Cake ain’t gonna fix that.”

“Bah!” Nels waved them both off, defeated. “Fine, go. Get out of my building, you kids don’t know how to have fun anymore.”

“Fun? In this economy?” Margie clutched imaginary pearls before her expression of mock dismay dissolved into a grin and she opened her arms for a parting hug.

Nels swooped down to envelop her, and for a moment his broad body fully eclipsed her from Raf’s view. “Drive safe, be good. See you on Monday.” He pulled away from Margie, turning his gaze to make sure the sentiment landed with Raf as well.

Raf provided a lopsided smirk and a gesture that was something between a wave and a salute. A chorus of goodbyes followed him and Margie out the front doors of Hi-Note studio, and Margie waved back over Raf’s shoulder until the doors closed behind them.

“I like them,” she said with a happy sigh.

“Yeah.” Raf led the way to his little, dark blue sedan parked against the street curb and watched her shuffle gleefully towards the passenger side. “They like you, too.”

Hard not to.

He got into the car and turned on the engine.

–

The ride home was tricky for Magritte as she tried hard to temper her expectations. Raf was a skittish person by nature, and she had to be very careful about not overwhelming him or applying too much pressure with her eager enthusiasm. Any time he felt like he had put himself into a corner by overpromising or obligating himself too irrevocably to something, his instinct was to escape it–no matter what ‘it’ was. But there was nothing irrevocable nor obligatory about her offer to sleep with him tonight. Not ‘sleep’ in the literal sense of the word, for once. No, if he let her, she was going to suck his spirit out through his dick and fuck him into the ground. Good god, she had been wanting this for months.

But Raf, being Raf, was liable to change his mind at the very last minute. And if he did, she wasn’t going to take it personally. She wasn’t. Nor would she be upset, nor disappointed, nor in any way disparaging about it. The most she could do was make sure not to push the topic too eagerly on the way home, and to avoid offering up any obstacles that might serve to dissuade him.

…Which made it very difficult for her to bring up one particular topic of concern before they had passed by the last 7/11 and it was too late.

“I guess, um…Should we pick up condoms? I can run in and get them.”

She held her breath as she watched him consider the question for a moment.

Funnily enough, it wasn’t a matter of protecting against diseases. They both had a clean bill of health, and came to know that about each other when she experienced a rare episode of anxiety regarding the last guy she had stayed with. In her weird panic, she greatly overshared a plethora of details to Raf. He had been remarkably cool about it, and walked her through the entire process of getting tested–something he was no recent stranger to.

Rather, she didn’t want to tempt fate on getting knocked-up; not when life was just starting to become enjoyable again. The idea of pregnancy was a lovecraftian horror to her, and the stress of dealing with something like that to any extent just wasn’t worth the gamble. She was on the pill, yes…but even that wasn’t guaranteed protection. And, with how often she forgot to take it, she wasn’t sure it protected her at all.

“I mean…” Raf began, hesitantly.

Magritte spared him the trouble. “Or not, if it’s a pain in the ass.” She shrugged with a disarming little laugh. “It’s a bit out of the–”

Raf cut her off. “No, it’s fine, we absolutely can. It’s just that I’m–” Without taking his eyes off the road he produced a scissor-snipping motion with his fingers.

Margie stared for a bewildered moment before her brain picked it up. “Wait, what? Really? Why?” She had leaned towards him with that last question before realising it was probably a shitty thing to ask.

But, if it bothered Raf, he showed no sign of it. “I don’t want kids, and I had…an unpredictable ex.”

“Oh!” Margie had the good sense not to press him further, and leaned back into her seat. She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Well, lucky me.”

She delighted in the humoured snort she coaxed from him. His easy smile and relaxed posture assured her that he wasn’t grappling with any second thoughts.

That won a sidelong glance from him. “So..?”

“Straight home, garçon!” She chopped one hand into the palm of the other with mock urgency. “The minutes are precious!”

And indeed, though he had kept his hands to himself for much of the ride home, and in the elevator up to his apartment, Magritte found herself pressed between his body and the door to his flat as he warmed her with a voraciously weighty kiss. She received it gratefully. The heat of him, the molten softness of his lips, the scruffy, tickling hairs of his chin–

She hadn’t realised that his free hand–the one not curled amorously around her body–had been busy unlocking the door. She’d have staggered backwards when it opened, had Raf not preemptively braced her with the arm that held her.

He broke the kiss in order to assure that their half-stumble into the apartment didn’t devolve into a full stumble. But still, he kept a steadying arm around her, and she rewarded the preservation of closeness by pressing a string of kisses down his neck and towards his collarbone. Her hands had found their way beneath both his jacket and t-shirt, the flesh of his torso hot against her forearms and fingertips.

She heard the door close shut behind them, and the familiar sound of the keys dropping onto the counter before the hand that had been holding them cupped the side of her head. She felt his lips press against the opposite temple.

She had been able to kick off her shabby, loose-fitting boots without pause, but she reluctantly peeled herself away from Raf in case he wanted to take his sneakers off with a little more care. And, perhaps…to give him some space to think. Taking the opportunity to remove her jacket, she chucked it haphazardly across the couch.

Raf was measuring her with a gaze when she turned back towards him.

“Second thoughts?” Her smirk carried a cheeky confidence that worked hard to cover the self-conscious tone in her voice.

“No.” His bewildered inflection and raised eyebrows explained plenty; he had expected to turn against the idea by now.

“It’s a bit impulsive,” Magritte conceded.

Raf provided a slow nod, “It is…”

“I’d really like it, though.”

“I want you to.” He seemed to chew on that for a moment, as though it had answered something for him.

There was an awkward standoff while neither of them moved, and in that brief moment, Magritte deeply regretted putting the space between them. Finally, Raf approached her and placed a kiss onto her forehead while his hands gently teased the elastic tie out of her nest of auburn curls. She wrapped her palms around the back of his neck as she felt her hair fall loose from the messy bun it had been wrangled into.

“Promise me this won’t fuck anything up.” His voice was low and quiet in her ear. The pleading tone was only amplified by the lingering manner in which his cheek rested against the side of her head. His warm breath against her slightly chilled skin inspired goosebumps.

She pulled back to look him squarely in the eyes. This was far from being her first tryst with a friend, and she knew herself well in this regard. “I promise it won’t! Not for me, but…” She offered an apologetic half-smile. “I can’t promise it won’t change things for you; I don’t control how you react. So, really. Really, really, really–if you’re not sure, then I’d rather…not. I like things the way they are. I like doing things with you. To me, this is just another thing I like doing that I think would be really fun to do with you. Not at the expense of anything else, though.”

He searched her features with a scrutinising stare, and she didn’t shy away from it.

“Nothing changes,” He asserted, “we’re just friends.”

“Good friends,” she offered back with an impudent grin.

He mirrored her expression with a scoff and a lopsided smirk of his own. “The friendsiest friends.”

“But, friends just the same.”

Her conviction was rewarded with another kiss, his lips melting against hers as she felt the tension in his muscles evaporate through a sigh. Her hands glided up his arms, over his shoulders, and around to the back of his neck. As she gently combed her fingernails through his hair, she remembered that delightful little noise she had coaxed out of him on the balcony. What had done it? Was it the kiss? Or…

Her fingers traced the contours of his scalp and, as she curled them towards her palm, they lightly caressed the back of his ears. Her thumbs smoothed over the muscles of his jaw, but before she completed the gesture, he broke away from her.

“Alright, friend.” He curled his upper lip to flash teeth at her in a playful snarl. “Get your lily white ass into the bedroom before the last brain cell navigating my good manners is starved of oxygen.” He turned her toward the hall, and a pat of his hand against her butt provided her with all the motivation she needed to oblige his request.

She whisked herself down the hall into his room, and left the door just slightly ajar for him. She knew he wasn’t going to follow her right away. He had his evening habits to tend to; checking the door, setting the thermostat, turning out the lights, and taking his meds with a tall glass of water. It would have been silly of her to think that the promise of tits and ass would throw him off routine.

Magritte took the opportunity to shed her clothes, throwing off her shirt and wiggling out of her tight tank top–a personal compromise for her disdain for bras. She shimmied out of her denim shorts and leggings both in the same gesture. Her underwear, though, was of a cute, boyish design and she decided she’d give Raf the satisfaction of peeling them off her, if he so wished to.

Wait, just the underwear? Is that weird? She considered putting the tank top back on, and failed to gather the motivation for it. And so, she settled upon a better idea. Grabbing one of his t-shirts out of the second drawer of his dresser, she pulled it on, over her head. Hell yeah, guys love this shit.

No sooner had she put on his shirt than he walked in to see her wearing it. She turned to him with a sheepish grin, tugging the bottom hem over her thighs.

Taking a sip from the glass of water in his hand, Raf clocked the shirt and favoured her with a humoured hum. “Comfy?”

She provided a coy nod, and, before she could do much else, he abandoned his glass on the top of the dresser to close the distance between them. His arms caught her up into more of a ‘scrunch’ than a proper hug, and he came down on her with a frustrated growl, burying his entire face into the side of her neck with the sound of exaggerated chomping. The combination of lightly grazing teeth and his rough chin against her skin elicited a startled yelp from her before sending her into a fit of uncontrolled giggles as she was effortlessly bowled over onto the bed.

“I changed my mind.” He snarled, “I’m gonna eat you, instead. Hungry, horny, it’s all the same.”

“It’s not, though!” Her words were barely intelligible, warbling with laughter.

As she struggled in vain to wedge a hand between the soft flesh of her throat and his coarse goatee, his mock gnashing softened into playful kisses. Regaining her composure and chasing away her giggles by clearing her throat, she snaked her hands beneath his shirt.

“I’m worth more to you undevoured, I promise.”

“Remains to be seen,” Raf muttered into the hollow beneath her ear.

“Well…let's see.”

Her thumbs smoothed over the trail of body hair from belt line to belly button, before her palms passed broadly over the front of his stomach, around his sides, and up his back. Digging her fingers into his shoulder blades, she tilted her chin back and drew in a long breath as his lips travelled down her neck, towards her collar bone.

Distracted by the pleasant textures of his mouth, Magritte’s attention hadn’t followed his travelling hands–until she felt the heel of his palm press broadly against her clit through the fabric of her underwear. Instinctively, her thighs tightened around him, and her hands abandoned their near-completed task of unbuttoning his jeans; grasping the waistline instead. She coiled into his touch as his palm lifted away to drag his fingertips lightly up, towards the top hem of her panties. From there, they slipped easily under the close-hugging fabric to sink into the warm folds between her legs.

Raf’s firm, steadying grasp around her ribcage slid up to appreciate the soft, pliable curves of her breasts hidden beneath the fabric of her shirt. His fingers teased the hardened nipples while she manoeuvred her lower body beneath him. She freed her legs out from under his lap so that her thighs hugged around his hips and, in swift order, she ghosted her hands down to find his belt. As she worked to unbuckle it, his mouth caught hers. His tongue teased her lips apart and she welcomed it with her own.

His kisses had a soft, buttery quality reminiscent of a girl she once loved, and it was a feeling she treasured. His lips, smooth and warm, melted against the tense contours of hers in a sensasion she could only describe as ‘creamy and comforting’.

She felt his fingers tease her apart, and they traced the contours of her sex with gentle confidence, exploring her geography. Though his mouth worked fervently against her lips, throat, and collar bone, his touch between her legs was restrained and methodical. She had expected him to plunge knuckle deep into the first hole he found–as men in her experience were typically inclined to. But his fingers only teased her entrance before gliding back up her moistened crease to find–

“Oh-!” Margie flinched as a shock jolted her body. Not painfully, but in a manner comparable to having an icecube suddenly pressed against her, unexpected.

Raf stilled the moment she had tensed.

“Sensitive.” His observation was murmured into the crook of her neck before he purred more audibly into her ear, “Sorry, love.”

She paused. His fingers had begun to work firm, broad circles around her clit in a way that, at first, didn’t feel like it was doing anything special for her. But quickly, she felt a building pressure begin to heat her core.

Sensitive?

She wasn’t, though. In the past, complaints had been made that she took too long to get off. Her previous fling had joked that only a jackhammer could provide the adequate stimulation she needed. When it came to sex, she knew herself as a veritable puzzle box of distractibility and dulled senses. It meant excellent stamina and fun sensations, but a proper orgasm delivered in a timely manner required her own effort more than the effort of her partner.

“No, no,” she began placatingly, “you didn’t–”

That same heat rose up to prickle her chest and cheeks. Margie pressed her mouth against the top of his shoulder to muffle a reverent, “Motherfucker.”

That was not the appropriate choice of words to praise him with, but that’s what forced its way out of her throat. He had found that sweet spot almost as easily as she might have found it herself, which led her to the realisation that she had been robbed–robbed–by previous lovers. What the everloving fuck.

She couldn’t help but let out a confounded little chuckle into the fabric of his shirt, and he responded with an amused little “Mmh.”

Without even meaning to, she had tensed her grip around him. Her arms held him tight, with handfuls of his shirt balled into her fists. Her legs had constricted around his waist and the leverage they provided allowed for the needy manner in which her hips writhed to meet his firm and steady touch. It was a greedy moment while she abandoned her attempts at reciprocation, intent on appreciating the way Raf kneaded her between his fingers. Her long drawn sighs of pleasure slowly devolved into a breathy panting–which fell into near perfect synchrony with his purposeful, hastening strokes between her thighs.

If she had been paying attention to her breathing, if she had noticed when her voice began releasing a single, ragged note every few breaths, she might have asked for pause. But, she hadn’t been paying attention to anything other than the growing warmth between her legs and the tense swell of pressure gathering in the very pit of her stomach. And it grew, hotter and hotter, with each purposeful, dexterous stroke of his fingers. Oh–she was sensitive, now. Between her thighs, she could feel every small vibration that met her. The way his fingers worked pleased not just her clit, but the rest of her aroused sex as well. Every small movement he pressed into her, she felt across the entire organ. Her thighs closed around his waist as she lifted her hips to find her pleasure against his fingertips. She felt the muscles of her stomach draw tight.

A sharp gasp preceded a short, trembling “Ah-!” that escaped with her breath. All that tension, that gathering pressure, broke like a wave through her body. It had built up so quickly that the orgasm took her by complete surprise, and she writhed against Raf’s fingers as she rode it out; her face buried into the crook of his neck, eyes shut tightly.

She didn’t relax her body nor lift her head as the ripples of pleasure subsided, but she felt Raf’s fingers withdraw from her.

“Hey.” Raf’s voice crooned in her ear, and his hands on her waist pressed her lightly back, coaxing her to release him from the death-grip she held him in.

Reluctantly, she unfurled from him, uncoiling her arms, and dropping her knees to hang off his outer thighs. The rough texture of denim against the back of her calves reminded her that he still had his pants on. She came, and he was still wearing pants.

She hazarded a sheepish glance up towards his face, and was met with a modestly small smile, made very smug by the upward arch of his eyebrows.

“That’s what you get for the balcony boner, you little shit.”

Raf lifted himself off her, but she grabbed the front of his shirt with flustered defiance. “We’re not done!”

“You sure?” His incredulity wasn’t the least bit sincere. “Because it seemed to me like you–”

“No!” She scrambled to sit on her knees atop his bed and jabbed a demanding finger towards his waist. “Take your pants off!”

He hesitated, and for a moment, Margie genuinely worried he’d say ‘nah’. But instead, he leaned in for another kiss and obliged her command. The sound of his belt clattering outcompeted the sultry feeling of his lips for her attention, and her eager gaze turned automatically to assess what she was working with.

She had expected to see an aching erection. Usually, by the time the pants came off, guys had been hard as hell and ready to go. Instead, the man who had just rubbed the easiest orgasm she’d ever experienced out of her appeared lightly fluffed at most. For a brief second, she wondered if her playful brattiness had ruined the mood. And then, she considered…that possibly…she just wasn’t attractive to him.

She returned her attention to their kiss as she chewed on that thought a bit. As far as girls went, she was a bit of a gremlin. A goblin, even. She wouldn’t dare call herself a ‘woman’ nor even a ‘lady’--those words gave her gender expression far too much credit. But even so, she was mostly comfortable with her appearance. Regardless of that, sloppy tomboys weren’t everyone’s preferred cup of tea, and it didn’t have to be. She had slept with people she didn’t personally find attractive before and it had been fine and dandy, all things considered.

You can be ugly and still give killer blowjobs.

She smirked to herself, and, as she combed fingers through Raf’s hair with one hand, she allowed the other to travel down his torso until her palm curled around the soft, warm skin of his shaft. Her fingertips coiled along the underside of it, tracing a firm, straight line towards the base of the glans, and she massaged the head against the ball of her thumb with gentle, coaxing strokes.

His body responded to her touch; the malleable flesh stiffened in her grasp and filled her hand substantially. In return, her caresses grew more broad and firm; the heel of her palm only abandoning the sensitive tip for the brief intervals when her fingers endeavoured to tease and cradle his sack.

She felt Raf’s fingertips trace lightly up her spine, beneath her shirt, in a manner that provoked goosebumps. Once they found the loose curls of her hair, they followed her locks up to the nape of her neck, and brushed passionately over the base of her scalp. He hadn’t pulled his lips away from her, except to nip lightly at her jaw and ear.

A small “Hmm” escaped him, sounding more contemplative than pleased, and it prompted her to pull her gaze back and assess his features. He only mirrored her measuring glance before bestowing a sweet little kiss on her nose.

"We good?" She asked as cooly as she could manage.

"Yeah?" His response warbled on a laugh, and it coaxed a reassured smile out of her. "I'd say so."

“...Gave you another boner."

"Oh." He glanced down and said with a sardonic tone, "Shit, thanks for telling me. I'd have never known."

By the time his gaze returned to her, Margie met it with a stony, straight face.

His amused expression wavered. "...What?"

Holding his gaze, she pressed down on his erection with a forefinger before turning her eyes to watch it as she let it spring upward in a marvellously undignified display of structural tension. The juvenile mistreatment of his manhood left Raf at a temporary loss for words and Magritte stifled her laugh into a snort. Before he could chide her, she shoved both hands beneath his shirt and lifted it, intent on freeing him of the garment completely. With a muffled exclamation, he complied, lifting his arms and finishing the job of pulling it off, over his head.

Taking the opportunity to plant kisses across his chest and down his torso, Margie didn’t glance up to see his expression as her mouth dragged hungrily past his belly button and over the strip of body hair that led her down, towards the prize waiting for her between his legs. She rested her cheek against him, atop the unruly patch of honey coloured pubes that crowned his crotch, and closed her hand around the length of him. She was hopeless at measuring the size of anything with just a gaze, but he filled her grasp with a satisfying heft and was certainly longer than her hand. Favouring him with a well-appraising hum and a few loving strokes, she lifted her head to face her challenge. She peeled back the foreskin with a tender downstroke, before kissing the sensitive pink tip.

The scent of him was far from unpleasant; a heady musk that excited her senses goaded her to take him into her mouth. Slick moisture met her lips when they pressed against his flesh, and, when they parted to draw him in, her tongue was quick to receive him. She held the head of his cock in her mouth as her tongue swirled and lapped hungrily over its smooth contours. He provided texture more than taste; his scent informed the flavour perhaps more than anything else. Inside her mouth, he was velvety, warm, and gratifying to explore. She pulled her lips back over the gentle curves until they came together to kiss the tip again. Her tongue flicked out to lap the head’s underside before the rest of her mouth followed, and she drew him in deeper than before.

She repeated that course, cherishing every bit of him with her tongue before pulling back to kiss the tip, and then drawing him into her mouth deeper with each successive round. Her thumbs had run up his inner thighs until they found the silky skin of his sack. She held and massaged it gently, appreciating the supple texture beneath her fingertips.

Initially, Raf’s fingers had teased and entwined themselves in her nest of curls somewhat languidly. But slowly, his hands grew tense against the back of her head, occasionally clenching into fists around handfuls of her hair. She thought–and hoped–that he’d start pulling, but any time he came close to doing so, he quickly released his grip. She could have lamented that, but she appreciated the same restraint applied to the motions of his hips. As a precaution, Margie placed a steading hand around one side of his waist, but she knew from experience that this was poor defence against an overeager thrust. Under her palm, she could feel his muscles tense and flinch. That, coupled with the slight, uneven rolling of his hips, betrayed his urge to buck against her mouth. For his considerate efforts, she rewarded him by trying to decipher and match the pace that his rigidly subdued movements suggested to her.

“...Christ.” His breaths had been coming up deep and steady and the muttered profanity was barely audible to Magritte, but she caught it with a thrill.

In response, she closed her eyes and pulled him into her throat so that her lips were flush against the hot skin of his lower abdomen. Her throat constricted uncomfortably around the intrusion that had smoothed over her tonsils, and she pulled back before it forced her to gag. Taking a deep, steadying breath through her nose, she allowed herself a precious second before swallowing him again. Her throat was no happier for it, but making a man's dick disappear was her favourite little party trick. Raf’s fingers brushed over her jaw in a gesture that permitted her to release him, but she ignored it in favour of challenging her gag reflex a third time.

“Margie–!” He cupped her face more firmly, and this time, she obeyed what was clearly a request, not a suggestion.

She pulled back, hollowing out her cheeks so that he left her mouth with an audible *pop*, and turned a sheepish smile up to him.

He met her gaze with a mix of awe and incredulity.“Holy shit, warn me next time.”

Providing him with an unrepentant shrug, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Too much?"

“I mean, not if you’re trying to get this done and over with real quick.”

To that, Magritte flashed her teeth in an impish grin. “Finish him!”

Her poor yet unmistakable Mortal Kombat impression caused Raf’s brow to crease quizzically before a bark of laughter escaped him. “No, why are you like this?”

He flattened his palm against her face, and she let out an ineffective chihuahua-like snarl as he irreverently pushed her backwards so that she laid flat on her bed. She landed with a fit of giggles, and she felt his thumbs hook into the waistband of her panties. He slid them down past her knees and Magritte was able to wriggle the garment down, off her ankles. Kneeling between her legs, Raf grabbed her by the waist and playfully dragged her towards him so that her hips met his.

As he descended upon her with a flurry of kisses, she felt his erection lay flat across her stomach–the slick coat of moisture it wore from her mouth cooled on her skin. She couldn’t help but writhe eagerly beneath him; one hand in his hair while the other grasped and clawed needily along his lower back. His hands worked much more purposefully. One arm coiled around her shoulders to brace the both of them as the other snaked down her belly, fingertips finding the warm, damp flesh between her legs. He teased apart her lower lips, pressing a firm thumb just above her clit and massaging it gently. His middle and ring fingers skated easily downward to find her opening; tender and wet with her arousal. He pressed a careful finger into her and, when it sunk in with ease, he inserted another. With gentle strokes and twists, he acquainted himself with her; winning pleased hums and a determined roll of her hips as he felt the boundaries of her interior. His breath came up in heavy sighs as he kissed, bit, and sucked the flesh of her neck. She was aware, too, of how his hips rolled against hers with a neediness that mirrored her own.

His fingers withdrew from her and, for a moment, so too did his lower body. With keen anticipation, Margie wrapped her legs firmly around him for leverage, sinking her heels into the back of his calves as she lifted her hips up to receive him. He didn’t leave her waiting. She felt his cock press against and part her flesh to make space for itself. Swollen with arousal, her body provided pleasant resistance before surrendering to envelop him. He sank into her with gratifying ease; fitting comfortably between her legs. A delighted gasp escaped her when he drew his hips flush to hers, eliciting a ripple of pleasure that radiated out from her inner flesh, down into her toes. Her muscles clenched around him instinctively, and her knees lifted to hold him as closely to her as possible.

At the sound of her breathy little mewl, a chuckle rose from Raf’s throat followed by another one of his contemplative hums. This time, though, an unmistakable satisfaction boiled in the low rumble of his tone.

In Margie’s opinion, this was one of the best parts of sex; the initial feeling of having that aching, hungry gap between her thighs filled the warm, hefty girth of her lover. But there was something uniquely gratifying about hosting Raf in this manner, and the reason wasn’t a mystery to her. Without question, he was the most good looking man to ever find himself between her legs. From the first day she met him in Granville Station, she had been charmed by his lopsided smirk, dorky goatee, and aloof demeanour. His torn jeans and goofy dollar store sunglasses hadn’t been able to outcompete the easy charisma and gentle kindness he carried with him. He had a handsome face, a nice body that he took care of, and a mindful confidence that belied the tumultuous anxieties that plagued him. As she had gotten to know him better, she only adored him more.

‘Adored’. Hah, who am I kidding.

She loved him, no revelation there. He didn’t have to rub an orgasm out of her and stick his dick in for her to realise that. She loved easily, and recklessly, and had known she was pooched after their very first jam session. He had been fun to play with, gave her kind praise and honest feedback, and made her feel like he genuinely enjoyed spending time with her. That and a pretty face was really all it took to win her loyal affections.

But he was a skittish creature, and she loved him enough to find joy in whatever form their relationship took. Otherwise, she’d have overcrowded and overwhelmed him, and he–like all the others before him–would have grown to resent everything he initially claimed to like about her. She likened herself to salt; best enjoyed sparingly, and never on its own. It’s why she had been so reluctant to move in with him, despite wanting to spend every minute of her time with him. Too much salt. She feared becoming unpalatable.

Well, now he’s balls deep in me, purring comfortably in my ear–which means I’ve got no choice but to make him cum so hard, he sees stars.

She had tried to moderate her behaviour and failed. She failed the very moment she accepted the keys to his apartment. She failed when he sweetly offered to let her snuggle him in bed so that he could help warm her feet. There had been mornings when she woke up to the maddening feeling of his stiffness pressed against the small of her back. She had remained very still and very quiet so as to not let him know that she had been awake before him, but good lord every muscle in her body had wanted to squirm against him. Without fail, the very moment he woke up, he’d carefully–very carefully–untangle his limbs from hers and turn away before getting out of bed to start his day. And without fail, she’d spend the consiquent morning too cumbrained to even see straight.

Just like she couldn’t say no to an apartment key and nightly snuggles, she couldn’t say no to a kiss. She couldn’t help but push it to see where it’d go. And now she was here. Remarkably. Unregrettably.

‘I couldn’t help myself,’ said the scorpion, ‘it’s in my nature.’

A bit too late, Margie realised that Raf’s satisfied rumblings in her ear had been forming actual vowels and consonants.

“Hm-?” She returned to the present moment with a flinch she hoped he didn’t notice.

“I like your little noises,” he replied.

“Oh.” Magritte blinked, running fingers through his hair. She used the back of her heel to caress the curve of his butt with irreverent affection. “Well then, giddy up, Mister Ephrem, and I’ll give you a cacophony!”

She felt him grin against her jawline before grazing it with his teeth and providing an affirmative little growl.

His hips withdrew, only to rock forward into her again. His first few strokes were of a careful, measuring pace until he repositioned his knees further apart and closer to her body. Dropping his forehead down onto the mattress, over her shoulder, he grabbed her waist with two firm hands and pulled her up closer to him. He curled his torso to plunge into her more deeply. The angle of his cock struck a pleasing cluster of nerves inside her body, and she inhaled sharply as it retreated over her swollen flesh to slam back in against it in steady rhythm. Each time, his dick slid out of her until she was empty save for the stretch where they met; the lips of her cunt covetously hugging the contours of the cock’s head. And then he’d part her walls again with a forceful, hungry thrust; smoothing the mounds of velvety muscle that constricted around him and resisted his departing strokes.

Every few thrusts forced a note of pleasure out of Magritte’s throat, carried on ragged huffs of breath. At first, her punctuated little cries only had to compete against the sound of Raf’s deep, steady breathing and the faint creaking of his bed. But, as her thighs became sticky and sodden from her arousal, the percussive sound of flesh on flesh began to drown out her little moans. Like the true musician he was, Raf searched for the right fingering to coax the sound he wanted out of her. His thumb pressed against the flesh right above her clit and rubbed it in quick, small circles as he continued to drive his cock into her.

The feeling of being kneaded firmly between his fingers and his dick provoked a strangled cry that bubbled out of her mouth before she even registered it. A sharp, quavering breath preceded another ecstatic wail, and then another. She curled her arms tightly around the back of Raf’s neck and attempted to muffle the chorus of her euphoria against his shoulder.

The mounting tension caused her muscles to clench. The way his dick pushed against the walls of her cunt as it constricted around him only intensified the pressure that welled up inside her.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck.” They were barely words, carrying the same quaking tone as her blissed-out yowls.

In response, Raf reached up to roughly smooth her hair back and cradle her head. He buried his nose into her hair, and pressed clenched teeth against her temple in a gesture that might have initially been intended as a kiss. His thrusts had grown desperate and uneven, but the hand that worked her clit remained fastidious in its efforts, bringing her so, so, so achingly close.

“Good girl.” His voice was a breathy growl against her skull. “Come on, now…”

Her legs had been wrapped around him so tightly that her muscles ached. But it provided the leverage she needed to buck against him with fervent need. He drove into her with short, rapid thrusts, barely withdrawing to slam as deeply into her as their bodies would permit; hitting up against her tightening core–until the dam of pressure burst to release a flood of sensation across every part of her. In the seconds leading up to it, Margie had fallen completely silent, drawing in a long breath that she held in her chest until the crashing wave of her orgasm forced it out of her. She felt the pulses of pleasure throb in her lower abdomen, caressing the man inside of her in a way that she never consciously could.

At some point during her climax, Raf’s hands had both found her waist again, gripping her rapaciously as he chased his own pleasure. His breaths came up in short, uneven bursts, and the undeliberate groans being drawn out of him composed the greatest piece of music she had ever delighted in hearing.

She writhed her hips to meet him at every feverish thrust. Slowing to longer, powerful strokes, he slammed into her once, twice, and with a quiet growl, he buried himself as deeply as their bodies would allow. His strong grip pressed her hard against him, holding her firmly in place as the force of his orgasm punched the breath out of his lungs. As he came inside of her, his hips strained against her body with the feral desire to empty himself deeper.

This, too, was one of the best parts of sex, Margie decided. She’d never gone about it without a condom before, and while the thrill was almost certainly a psychological one, the verdict was in; she very enjoyed the feeling of having her insides painted lovingly white. She liked it a lot. With the covetous squeezing of her thighs and abdominal muscles, she made it known to him.

The two of them remained locked together in a hot, messy, panting heap on the bed for an immeasurable moment before Raf nuzzled his face into the crook of Margie’s neck with a long, bodily sigh. She drew a hand up to affectionately caress his neck and the back of his head.

“W...we good?” Her voice came up raspy, cracking on the second word, and she couldn’t help but exhale a little laugh at herself.

“Mmh,” was the most Raf could conjure for a long while before he muttered semi-intelligible, “Magnifique.” He echoed her laugh with one of his own before bringing his arms forward to prop himself up, off of her.

As she allowed him to decouple from her, she curled her hands under her chin, reluctant to sit up with him…for reasons relating to gravity and fluids.

Sitting on his knees with her legs across his lap, Raf provided a mollifying grin that favoured one side of his face. “I, uh–shit.” He dropped his face into one of his palms with a self-deprecating laugh. “Ejected some of my brain cells there, I think.”

“A shower might help with that,” Margie offered with a broad smile that flashed her teeth. “I’ll take one with you.”

–

It had been as though they spent the evening doing any other typical thing. It could have been a night of board games, for how casually Magritte navigated the aftermath of their activities. Raf had expected some manner of uncomfortable, condolatory discussion that went long into the early hours of morning; how they had liked it, whether or not they’d do it again, what it meant for their relationship, if it meant anything at all. But that conversation never occurred.

Margie had made her enjoyment known while she shared a shower with him, and bestowed easy praise on his ‘excellent fingering’. In turn, he confessed that he could grow quickly addicted to the adorable little trills, yelps, and moans he had been able to coax out of her. Not to mention the other things she could do with her mouth. Dieu, mon fucking dieu.

The rest was clear enough to be obvious without discussion. Sex could just be another thing they did together when the mood struck–if it stuck at all. It hadn’t come with any promises or expectations, not any more than playing music or snuggles in bed had. It was the best Raf could have hoped for.

Magritte seemed wholly uninterested in applying the pressures of romantic commitment onto him. If there was ever anything she wanted, she could never help but to edge it into conversations one way or another–he knew that much about her. Instead, she seemed entirely set on making sure she didn’t bring up anything even approaching the matter. She said she liked things the way they were, and, while his brain could question the truth in that–or in anything she said–he was of much the same opinion. Perhaps they had both come to the same understanding. Something about love, especially romantic love, brought out the worst in people. It had always seemed like a battle of wills; two people trying to deconstruct and reshape one another to fit the impossible moulds that would ensure the longevity of their relationship. How could anyone endure that kind of transformation without poisoning the relationship with resentment? He’d never know. He didn’t have to find out.

Laying in bed at three in the morning, showered, satisfied, and cosy, with Magritte purring tiny snores in his arms, he couldn’t have asked for more. Whatever it was that he and Margie were enjoying together–friends with benefits?–suited him, so far. For all it mattered, she could decide to move across the sea next week, and he’d be unharmed by the decision so long as they remained on friendly terms. And that felt safe.

What they had…it felt safe.

#hi-note #rafael #magritte #it's balls oclock and no one is awake #post smut #I've never written a smut before lmfaoo I am so sorry about this

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