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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin.

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm.

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after.

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well.

— I’ll find something to eat, alright?

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged.

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you.

— Ah…your father is at home?

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was.

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you.

— You didn’t tell him about me?

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly.

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh.

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart.

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home.

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed.

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen.

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid.

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished.

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel.

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son.

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl.

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it?

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years.

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like.

— Ja. You can have it.

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it.

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him.

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home.

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you.

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom.

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you.

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet.

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz.

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce.

— What do you mean by this, sir?

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally.

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid.

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship.

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you.

König is.

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you.

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man.

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this.

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father.

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too.

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir.

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing.

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all.

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks.

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies.

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right?

You look like a good candidate.

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz.

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left.

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here.

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body.

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him.

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is.

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway.

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all.

— I don’t want to break his heart.

— He doesn’t have one.

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it.

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted.

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game.

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later.

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum.

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please”

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable.

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later.

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before.

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people.

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right.

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore.

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid.

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second.

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this.

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it.

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed.

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good.

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father.

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it?

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul.

— I’ll tell him.

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck.

— I need to return to my dorm.

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja?

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right.

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen.

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked.

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are.

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja?

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

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bambiesfics · 2 months

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Opposites Attract Theory - Ellie x Bimbo!reader

Ellie was everything you weren’t. She was a girl in brown plaid button ups, who could only find comfort in wearing her father’s oversized chocolate suede jacket. She could hardly be described as sweet or adorable, not like you were. Ellie was reserved, masculine, angry, and traumatized. Ellie smoked cigarettes to keep her nerves at bay, cut chunks off of the ends of her hair when they got too long and feminine, spent all her money on tattoos if she wasn’t spending it on you, wore old men’s weathered leather shoes, painted her nails with the cheapest black polish just so they could chip on purpose, and tucked her strap into her pants because it just felt right. No more, no less.

All of those descriptions she’d agreed with, but just one word was missing. The word ‘provider.’ The aspect of her character that she prided herself on the most, was being your provider.

You were her opposite, the light to her shadow. You were naive, sweet, bubbly. Your eyes were big and curious, and you asked every question earnestly. You bounced around in your cute little outfits. Low cut tops with your tits spilling out, dresses where the wind exposed the chub of your ass, and skirts so short they showed your plump little pussy, eating up your g-strings; outfits that made you easy prey for leering. You got your nails done, and showed them off by grabbing Ellie’s thick cock with both hands while sucking hard on her tip. You bent over to pick up dropped items because your acrylics made you clumsy, and squealed when your girlfriend smacked you square on your ass. You got little Brazilian waxes, and sent pictures with a smiley face saying “still a bit sensitive but do you think it looks pretty Els?” And you were shocked that she pounded you into the headboard later that day, until your vagina was puffy. You sat on Ellie’s lap when she beckoned you too, but never quite figured out that it was because she wanted you to feel her erection sandwiched between your ass. You pranced outside in thin little pink shirts that showed the outline of your plump nipples and areola, and started pouting when Ellie draped her jacket on you before she let you step out of her car.

You pouted about how your girlfriend was “too overprotective” but you were a ditzy, trusting airhead, who had the IQ of a care bear. Ellie didn’t have a choice, you were too stupid for your own good. Too sugary and sweet, sissy and girly.

You needed a guy like Ellie to pick up extra shifts for you, so you could go on your little shopping sprees, to buy lip gloss and candy. You needed a guy like Ellie to come everywhere with you, so creepy fucks would know that the pretty little bimbo had a gaurd dog next to her who would snap, snarl and bite them. You needed a guy like Ellie to run her tongue around your little pink hole, twitching and hungry, just to prepare that tiny hole as a warm place for her cock to sink into right after. Her balls often found themselves smacking against the bottom of your puffy neglected clit. You needed a guy like Ellie to indulge your little airhead babble, your piss poor attempt at conversation or even saying a coherent sentence. God knows you could yap for hours and say nothing of note, nothing anyone would perceive as highbrow or thought-provoking, but Ellie loved it. Loved watching those plump pink lips smack together to talk about dumb little girl topics like “love island” or how “your pinks don’t match” or “beauty guru drama.”

And Ellie loved to indulge that clingy, pouty, needy little attitude you had around her. She’d bounce you up and down her cock, to shush your sniffles after she snapped at you. She’d rubbed your back, and promise to get your nails done just so you’d get overwhelmed with joy and cry “Ellieeee” in her arms, she’d wipe your pouty tears off your cheeks when you couldn’t take her cock all the way down, and tell you that you’ll get so much better after lots n’ lots of practice, she’d let you baby her when she was sick, and pretend that your poorly made chicken soup was the cure for her illness, and not the fever medication she’d been knocking back for the past week, she’d indulge your repetitive airheaded questions like “Ellieee, why can’t we print more money?” and “Ellieee how do you know you can see me? What if you’re you’re just imagining me?,” and she’d let you curl up with her brown jacket at night, cause it smelled exactly like her and brought you comfort in those days she had too many back-to-back shifts and couldn’t stay with you. That jacket was her fathers, so for her to leave it with you, meant that she wanted to take care of you in a way he’d be proud of.

You were Ellie’s dumb little bimbo doll. Her pink hole to use as a fleshlight, her set of plump lips to watch suction around her dick, her sugary little ditz.

But you were also Ellie’s future wife, the future mother of her kids. The woman who provided the the most gentle balance to Ellie’s rough edges and hard lines, the woman who was her emotion support, her pillar, the grounded rock that she’d cling to during her rapid river emotions. In turn Ellie would be your guard dog, your emotional support, your girlfriend, your boyfriend, your husband, your wife, your butch, your provider. She’d be whatever you needed.

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predestinatos · 6 months

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too cold | MV1 ⋆꙳❅ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

pairing: max verstappen x female!reader

summary: stormy weather leads to stormy thoughts about a years long friendship.

tags: best friends to lovers, soo cheesy, fluff, giddy max, super whipped for reader!!, wearing his sweater, just so much softness!

author's note: i dreamt about max for some reason and he's been living in my head rent free so... i had to let this out!! hope you like it. it's a short cute thing so..!

word count: 3.5k

warnings: -

It was cold and stormy that day. You had expected it, the forecasts all telling you the same thing, your hair completely tangled in itself as soon as you stepped out of the house into the car.

You planned it all, including getting there earlier, so you could spend as much time with Max as possible – you never skipped the pleasant silence of his presence at least once a week. What you hadn’t planned was for you two to get carried away with taking buzzfeed quizzes and personality tests to the point where it was dark outside, the storm more aggressive, more threatening, and more dangerous.

“Shit,” you muttered when the wind outside made the windows tremble with extreme force, their sound almost like a warning voice in the night. “How am I going home like this?” you asked yourself out loud, desperate and scared, as Max completed yet another ‘What’s Your Mental Age Based on Your Choice of Cutlery’ quiz. He glanced outside nonchalantly, almost carelessly, as if the question was ridiculously easy to answer, close to ironic.

Before going back to the seriousness of the questions at hand, he shrugged, shoulders going up and down in explicit tranquility. “You can stay over” he stated, his finger hovering over a weirdly shaped spoon that said ‘shit stirrer’ on its surface. You let out a breath that indicated his joke was funny yet not useful in the slightest given your current dilemma, to which he looked at you and laughed back, assuming you were amused at the choice of teaspoon he had just made. “Max, I’m serious” you voiced your urgency and fear with those words. “Me too” he continued, eyes glued on the screen, yet slightly confused at your own comment.

At your audible sigh and attempt to get up from his bed, where you comfortably laid scrolling through your phone for options, he turned around from his chair which was facing the screen. “You’re not leaving” he said, in a concerned tone of a friend who refused to let you be consumed by the rapidly increasing rain. “I don’t understand what the matter is” he continued as he saw you searching through his room for your things, messily scattered on the floor, reminiscent of childhood times spent together.

You merely looked at him in response, the answer obvious to you but seemingly not to him, only hitting him hard in the face as a joke he couldn’t help but laugh at seconds later. “You always slept here” he said, astonished at your reluctance and apparent timidness. “Yeah, Max. When we were 11” you protested, tucking some hair behind your ear as you looked for your charger. “Plus, I don’t have a pajama, or spare underwear” your arms now crossed across your chest, mimicking his own, a baffled smile on his lips.

“You can wear one of my sweaters. And like, my boxers, or something” this made your mouth drop in ridiculous surprise, a fear in your eyes which he didn’t understand. “I’m serious! It’s better than you going out with this storm!” his arm pointed towards the window, the view outside a paid actor because a lightning appeared violently before both of you. With a winning grin, he finished his argument with a “C’mon I’ll let you choose the outfit.”

Opening the drawers, you let yourself take a look at the collection of multicolored sweaters organized neatly. Your eyes landed on a grey one, which looked a bit worn out but comfortable at the same time, its marks of usage being a testament to its quality. You grabbed it and noticed that it smelled like Max, like the years of friendship you two shared. “The boxers are in the other drawer” Max interrupted your thoughts, yet his indifferent air made you less awkward about this situation, almost like it was normal that this was happening, like you were both 10 again, popcorn being prepared in the small kitchen next door.

You let yourself randomly choose some of his underwear, trying your best not to look too much at it, knowing little to nothing about how to even begin choosing such a thing for yourself. The strong wind whistled outside, and Max’s fingers hit the keyboard, creating a soothing lullaby.

“I’m- uh-… going then” you said, making your way towards the bathroom as he happily nodded, the familiarity of the house being a known fact for both of you.

The truth was, Max missed you. A lot. He missed hanging out with you all night, watching really bad films and playing silly videogames, drinking some beers and enjoying yourselves. Lately, he hadn’t had the time to do all these things, let alone doing them with you, and even though he did not plan this storm in the slightest, he was glad for it. The rain came as a reminder that you two had a year long friendship you could still enjoy, the sound blending with the one coming from the bathroom as you turned on the shower.

Sleeping over only got weird given the fact that Max was a boy and you were a girl, but it shouldn’t have been like that. In his mind, nothing changed, and nothing should have to change – he still wanted you as close as he did when you two watched scary video compilations on youtube and spent all night hiding under the covers and whispering in an attempt to not ‘awake the big monster’.

He still wanted to spend time with you when you were 16 and started talking about how cute his friends were, asking him if they were single or not as you put a lollipop in your mouth and painted your nails in colorful amusement.

He still wanted you to sleep over even when his girlfriends told him they didn’t quite like the fact that he was so close with you, that he seemed to want to be with you more than with them, that he dropped everything as soon as you texted him a slightly unusual text.

And it was normal, and alright, because you were best friends, because you knew each other better than your own selves, because you’d recognize his laugh in the middle of a crowd even with noise cancelling headphones, and he would recognize the smile you made when you were flustered even if he was blindfolded.

It was also normal for him to smile to himself and feel the happiest he has felt in a while, because he missed you, and you were staying over and nothing would have felt better than knowing he had a night full of your presence.

Meanwhile, you stood in his all-too familiar shower, accepting the fact that he had no conditioner, and a shampoo would have to do for the night. Simultaneously, this made you reflect on the clear fact that he had probably had no stable, consistent, female presence in his life in a while. As the liquid dropped in your hand and you brought your hands to your hair, thoughts about previous relationships of his flooded your mind.

They never ended well, and the guilt you felt because of it was ever present. Max was the best friend you could’ve asked for, because he always picked you, no matter what. In fact, he gave it no thought nor justification, not to you or his previous relationships. He accepted the fact that you were his priority as a given, something so natural as breathing, as blood pumping through his veins. You couldn’t deny you did the same. Previous partners of yours weren’t too fond of his constant need to assess and approve of them, of how he was your emergency contact whenever anything happened, how you made sure you spent time with him at least once a week.

Feeling the foam forming on your scalp, you remembered the times where you two bathed together, the innocence of gone times flying through your head with fondness. Of course, you two grew, and while you never broke the bond that formed between you, it was also harder to continue certain traditions you maintained.

Your teenage years were filled with angst and some bickering over how uncomfortable he made your dates, or how all he did was talk about girls when you two were together. You used each other as diaries and confidantes, keeping secrets in a closed vault made of memories. Nothing really had changed besides your ages, and none of you were dating, or at least it did not seem like it.

As you washed your body with lavender scented soap, you realized this is what you were missing – the comfortability of being the most like yourself you could possibly be, alongside him.

Max stared at the “You Are 14 Years Old!” result on his computer, reading the in depth description on how that one fork gave his age away, when he heard your shout for his name coming from the now foggy bathroom, the place now looking more like Silent Hill or a liminal space. Removing one side of his headphones off, his voice echoed throughout the apartment “Yes?”, filled with softness and worry, a completely unknown care for you which wasn’t displayed by anyone else but him. Smiling to yourself, you replied, “do you seriously only own one bath towel?”

Removing both of his headphones off now, with realization hitting him and he jumped from his seat, he ran towards the drawer that possessed all the other towels he stored in organized fashion. “Shit! No! Sorry! I’m on my way!” he said urgently, grabbing one as he ran towards the bathroom, opening its door and popping only one arm in, his eyes facing the wall but also closed with affirming need to reassure you that he wasn’t looking, refused to look, would never even consider to do such a thing.

You pulled the fabric off his hand as you thanked him with a soft giggle, his previous nonchalant attitude vanishing upon the thought of seeing you naked – which you weren’t, and he would’ve realized this had he considered the fact that the bathroom possessed ONE towel, currently wrapped around your now wet body. Shivering with cold, you got yourself dry as fast as you could, while Max sat back down in his chair, cursing to himself at his clumsiness and lack of thought.

Examining yourself in the mirror as dried your hair off (after several minutes of looking for the hairdryer, not wanting to put Max through the whole ordeal of performing the biggest demonstration of respect towards one’s privacy ever witnessed) you noticed something you hadn’t before. This simple, yet incriminating item put into question your previous thoughts about Max’s lack of companionship in his home, your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth turning downwards at the thought that he was hiding something from you.

On the tiny little cup sitting on the sink, there were two toothbrushes. They were carefully put together in a magical arrangement of colors that indicated that one had to be able to tell them apart, like each had its own owner. Suddenly, the whole idea of sleeping over – hell, of wearing Max’s clothes – seemed ridiculously selfish. You had done it before, but you were adults now, and with adulthood came a sense of responsibility and respect that hit you in the face like a slap, the simple idea of an innocent sleepover with your best friend sounding absolutely childish and ridiculous.

“Max?” you called out again, a deep breath escaping your lungs as you sat down on the toilet seat, hair still slightly damp, towel still wrapped around your body upon your refusal to put his clothes on. “Yes?” he replied once again, a feeling of déjà vu invading your thoughts, a repetition of mere seconds before yet with rose tinted glasses off.

“I think it’s best if I just go home,” you muttered, even though you hadn’t moved. Realistically, the idea of going out there terrified you, but perhaps not as much as staying over, given the current situation. Putting your underwear back on after showering felt dirty, but perhaps wearing his clean one after noticing another one’s presence in his room, his life, his thoughts, made you feel even dirtier.

“Come on, I bet your outfit looks amazing” he said jokingly, assuming you were embarrassed about your current look, trying to lighten up the mood with teasing reassurance. Getting up once again, he stood near the bathroom door, head close to it as if trying to listen to the fabric against your skin, some hint of your own amused presence. All he heard was silence, one so unbelievably loud he felt something off, something wrong. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice now more careful, more tender, and more concerned.

You only murmured in allowance, and noticed the doorknob turn as he stepped inside. “What’s up?” he asked, his eyes revealing deep concern with slight embarrassment over the painting you two were probably creating. Him, pajama pants and hoodie on, glasses now slightly foggy; you, with droplets falling down your hair as you looked down, hugging the towel tightly against your body. “I don’t want to cause any trouble” you said as you unconsciously looked back at the toothbrushes which now seemed to stare at you both accusingly, judgingly.

“Why would you- Oh,” he interrupted himself, his gaze following yours towards the same spot, his look going from confused to serious to utterly humored. “This?” he asked again, grabbing the small toothbrush from the cup, its cable a pretty yellow shade. “What’s your favorite color again?” he continued, waving the object in front of your face as you stared at it in confusion.

Looking up, you replied simply “yellow- oh,” it was your turn to interrupt yourself, now realizing how you had almost forgotten your childhood promise, yet surprised as well at the fact that he had kept it after all these years, the innocence of the act causing your heart to hurt slightly.

“It’s always been here. I mean, not the same one, obviously, but… a spare toothbrush” he explained, even though he did not have to, his hand playfully messing your hair before he headed bac towards the door. “Get dressed, silly. We have films to watch” his warm voice instructed you with tenderness before he closed the door behind him.

Stepping out of the bathroom, finally dry and dressed, you forced Max to close his eyes before looking at you. “Don’t make fun of me or I’ll leave” you threatened jokingly, as his eyes remained tightly shut with his hands in front of them dramatically. “I won’t I promise!” he claimed, yet he was already laughing, the sound of it reminding you of the years of togetherness you both shared.

“Okay, you can look” you finally gave your permission, as he took his hands off his face and blinked fast, the lights suddenly blinding him. At first, he just stared at you, expression absolutely unreadable. Then, he burst into laughter, apologizing as his giggles filled the bedroom. “I look ridiculous” you complained, the long sleeves covering your hands and flopping lazily as you did so. “No you look adorable!” he tried to protest, laughter insistent on making its way through his lips, his eyes shining with happy tears. “Adorably ridiculous” you continued, rolling your eyes and throwing yourself on the bed defeatedly, your head buried in his pillow, filled with the scent of him.

Knowing your mood would change soon, Max merely smiled to himself as he started putting a film on, the choice being the Twilight saga – easy to watch, entertaining, fun, and he could tease you about it constantly, pretending he didn’t enjoy it himself. Bags of jellybeans hit your head as he threw them towards you, in an attempt to wake you from your moody attitude. “C’mon grumpy I have beer” he poked you as he sat on the bed as well, pressing play and opening a bag which he waved in front of your face as you got up lazily.

“’I know what you are’ ‘Say it. Out loud. Say it!’ ‘Vampire’” you said the lines along with the film, echoing each and every intonation and expression. Popping a bear shaped jellybean in his mouth as he took another sip of his beer, Max interrupted your acting session by saying “can you imagine how awkward it would be if it was something else entirely and he would just be like… ‘uh no’” and laughing to himself. Your arm flew to his as you punched it angrily, despite the fact that you were giggling to yourself.

Something about getting you slightly on your nerves while also making you smile made Max feel almost at home, in a safe space without comparison, only available to him when you were around. He felt himself in a constant state of meditation whenever he was around you, his breathing naturally adjusting itself to match yours.

Instinctively, and not out of the ordinary for any of you, he grabbed your hand and played with it softly, his fingers feeling the soft texture of your skin and pinching it with playful tenderness. You never questioned it, and neither did he, this need you two had to display affection more than most friends did, the need to always be in some sort of contact with each other, to feel each other’s warmth and presence closely. Without taking his eyes off of the film, seemingly very intensely focused on Edward’s skin of a killer, he spoke up. “You don’t look ridiculous,” he said, as you held your gaze on the film, yet laughing at his comment, expecting a joke to be made about how what’s on the screen is way more embarrassing than you in his underwear. Yet he said something completely different. “You always look pretty. Very pretty” his voice was soft as he now looked at you, and you felt his gaze on your skin, your cheeks, your eyelashes, yet refused to look at him and face whatever was happening in that night.

The windows rattled once again, breaking the momentary spell that hovered in the room, hypnotizing both of you with the haze of uncertain feelings. You heard his breathing as well, heavy and nervous now, his heart racing and yours matching his, maybe because you were so deeply connected or maybe because your feelings and his were now the same shade of complexity.

You wondered if this is why you had stopped sleep overs together. Perhaps it was the fear of facing the fact that things were not as simple and easy to brush off when the clock hit 3am and his hand was on his and your head on his shoulder and you had no intention of moving. And he shared these same thoughts, realizing how that letting go of you right now would probably be the worst thing that could happen, the scariest thought that could possibly cross his mind.

All this happened in fractions of second, too short for any of you to truly acknowledge what was happening, his voice interrupting both of your thoughts as he spoke once again, “obviously not as pretty as Edward Cullen but-“ to which you rolled your eyes and laughed. “I bet he’d look better in your sweatshirt” you said, another sip of beer falling on your lips.

“Impossible” he replied, a smile on his lips, his eyes finally meeting yours and then taking your whole appearance in, your cheeks blushing shyly at how attentively he looked at you, at how his gaze seemed so tender and soft. A sudden urgency to feel his lips on yours filled your thoughts with sheer intensity that terrified you. You hadn’t seen Max that way, hadn’t considered it nor question it before, not even when your dates and boyfriends accused you of things, not when your friends commented on how you looked at him. Yet in that exact moment, something shifted completely, perhaps stirred by the storm outside, perhaps because it simply felt right in that moment to feel wrong.

“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asked. The innocence of the question made you giggle, the contrast between his soft and careful voice and his adult look with a week old stubble making you giddy and timid as you nodded.

His lips touched yours with caution, yet with undeniable fondness that made you question why this hadn’t happened before. You felt his smile in between the kiss, the satisfaction of finally breaking this unknown wall that had existed between you for so long, and which you remained so unaware about.

Pulling away, Max’s eyes stared into yours before moving to the screen, a satisfied smile on his now slightly redder than usual lips, your own face mimicking his. “Edward Cullen could never kiss as well as you” he whispered, earning himself another soft punch, followed by 3 more films worth of kissing.

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lemonlover1110 · 6 months

Text

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x babysitter!f!Reader

Summary: After not hearing from Toji for some time, he requests your services again. Too bad you now have a boyfriend...

Warnings: MDNI, babysitter!Reader, Smut, Cheating, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (f. Receiving), Age Gap (Reader in 20s, Toji in 30s), Reader's Parents and Toji are friends, Cute baby Megumi is adorable, Reader literally cheats while her boyfriend is on FaceTime

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*practically a continuation of babysitting service but you don't have to read the first part to read this gsohgsoh

After babysitting for your parents’ friend, Toji, you leave for college again. You forget about your hookup just as fast as it happened, since you don’t really see Toji. You’re barely in town, and when you are, you don’t see him. He doesn’t call for your services again, which disappoints you momentarily, until you meet someone new.

This man isn’t just a hookup though. You spend almost every possible minute with each other and you go on dates. You’re happy with him, you swear he’s the man that you’ll marry. But sometimes you have to spend time away from each other so you don’t get sick of each other.

So once a month you go back home alone for the weekend since your university isn’t too far away. You usually lounge around in your home and be absolutely lazy. It’s a well earned break after studying so much– But this weekend your parents tell you that someone needs you to babysit. You pray that it’s some new neighbors or a friend that you’ve never met before since you doubt that you can handle seeing Toji again.

He creeps up in your mind sometimes, especially when you’re aroused. You hate how he comes into your mind when you’re having sex with your boyfriend. That’s the only time Toji comes into your mind. His touch still lingers on your skin even after so long. You’re convinced that Toji is just a hookup that you’ll never be able to forget, and you’ll compare every guy that you come across with him.

You’re disappointed when they mention Toji, and they can see the disappointment on your face, making them question why. Is Megumi a misbehaved kid or something? They’re taken back when you tell them quite the opposite, Megumi is great. You assure them that you’re fine, and you’re excited to take care of Megumi again.

When you get to his home, he’s ready to go on a date. He trusts you enough to know what to do since this isn’t your first time taking care of Megumi; maybe you feel a twinge of jealousy, and you feel unappreciated when the man doesn’t bother to look you up and down after you put on a special outfit simply for his admiration.

But you move on past it. You don’t spend more than five minutes with him before he’s gone, leaving you alone with Megumi. You put on a jacket to hide the rather revealing outfit choice for the night, and you focus your attention on the boy who wants to play some board games with you.

“Daddy sucks. He never wants to play.” Megumi shares when you set up the game. Megumi has no one else in the house, and the boy can’t teach the dogs how to play a board game. It’s not as fun since there’s only two of you, and he barely comprehends the game, but you enjoy yourself regardless.

You’re focused on the game so much that you don’t hear the front door open, and you’re startled when you catch a glimpse of Toji. You put your hand over your heart that beats at a rapid pace. You can’t help but ask, “Why are you here so early?”

“I forgot something.” Toji answers, and he’s about to head upstairs but his feet stop. He has the urge to go to the table and join you two, which is what he ends up doing. It’s sweet, and it brings a smile to your lips. Luckily, you’re not too into the game so he’s able to join without a problem.

His phone begins to ring, but he ignores it. He has bigger matters to attend to, like showing you two how he’s much better at the game. You have a feeling that it’s his date, and you feel bad for her for a moment. It doesn’t take too long for you to forget about her and focus on Toji and Megumi.

“Let’s order some food. What do you two want?” Toji offers, and Megumi shouts out what he wants for dinner, which makes you agree since you have no preference for anything at the moment. You continue playing until the food gets there.

You try to leave after eating since your service is clearly no longer needed, but Megumi asks you to watch a movie and you can’t refuse. His adorable little face doesn’t let you, so you stay to watch the movie until he falls asleep. Toji takes him to his room, and you pause the movie.

You doubt he wants you to stay considering the only reason you were here was to take care of Megumi– But he would’ve asked you to leave the moment he decided he wanted to play with his son. You grab your phone from your purse and look through it while you wait for Toji to come back. Toji holds a stack of cash when he walks back to the couch and he asks, “How much for tonight?”

“Hmm… I guess tonight is free since you did stay. It was easy.” You answer as you stand up from the couch. You sweetly smile at him, and you begin to walk towards the door. When you walk past him, his hand goes to your arm which forces you to stop. Your sweet smile turns to a smirk, and you try to disguise it.

“You’re not done here.” He says, and you try to act innocent.

“How so, Mr. Fushiguro? Megumi is asleep.” You respond. You bite down your lip as you try to read the look on his face. His hand goes to the zipper of the jacket that is far too big for you, and he pulls it down to show your rather revealing outfit.

“You know damn well.” He finally acknowledges the outfit that you put on for him, and you purse your lips together. It was only for teasing purposes, that’s what you remember. It’s the first time that you’re sad because you have a boyfriend, one that you adore more than anyone.

“I have a boyfriend, Mr. Fushiguro. If I’m right, what you’re implying is inappropriate.” You share, and you watch as the man furrows his eyebrows. A boyfriend has never stopped Toji before, and this won’t be a first.

“We can just make out a bit, nothing crazy.” Toji responds, and you tilt your head to the side. Toji raises his brow, “What? It’s just some kissing, does he think that’s cheating? Or would he be scared that I can do it better than him?”

You bite your tongue as you look Toji up and down. It is cheating. But maybe you’ll listen to him because your body begins to remember his every touch and you’re turning into putty at the mere thought of him touching you again. But you fight back the obscene thoughts that run through your head.

“It’s wrong, and it’d break his heart.” You say. A sly smirk comes to his lips.

“It wouldn’t break his heart if you don’t tell. How is he going to know? I’m not going to tell.” Toji tells you, taking two steps toward you before he looks down at you. He licks his lips before speaking lowly, “Just some kissing between two friends, a secret within us.”

“Are we friends though?” You ask, and he nods in response. His hands go down to your waist, and you know that with him it won’t stop just with kissing. He wouldn’t want to just kiss. “Can you stop at kissing?”

“Yeah.” He responds, and his lips go down to meet yours. You’re hesitant before kissing him back, but you give in. Your tongue enters his mouth and presses against his. Toji picks you up as the kiss deepens, and he carries you to the couch. He lays down on the couch and you lay on top of him, knee on either side of him. He doesn’t stop at mere kissing as his hands roam through your body, his hands squeezing your tits before they go under your skirt. He doesn’t really touch your pussy, just playing with the waistband of your panties.

You both hear a phone ring, but you ignore it as his tongue wanders around your mouth. The sound fades away, and Toji’s fingers begin to rub your clothed cunt. The last thought in your mind is your boyfriend, you’re about to let this happen again without a single problem.

The second time the phone rings, it irks Toji. It’s not his phone since he turned it off. He pulls away and orders, “Check who it is. They’re annoying.”

You do as he says, grabbing your phone and checking who’s calling. Guilt rushes through your body as you see the incoming facetime call from your boyfriend. You get completely off Toji and go to the armchair that’s in the living room, fixing yourself up before answering the call.

“Hey babe…” You try to be cheerful, putting a fake smile on your face. Toji clicks his tongue, and you pray that he doesn’t make his presence known. You watch through your peripheral vision as he gets off the couch and gets in front of you on his knees. “Sorry for not answering, I fell asleep. Waiting for this kid’s dad to get home.”

Toji smiles as your boyfriend assures you that it’s fine. Toji spreads your legs, pushing your panties to the side. You’re so close to hanging up the phone and asking Toji what the hell he’s doing since this is a bit more than just kissing– But he begins to kiss your cunt, and you never really specified. You’re not complaining.

His tongue licks up your folds, and you bite down on your lip for a moment. You try to continue having a normal conversation with your boyfriend, telling him about your weekend so far. Toji’s tongue begins to flick your clit.

Two of Toji’s fingers run through your folds, getting them wet with your slick before he pushes them in. His fingers are so thick and long, it causes a soft moan to leave your lips, and your boyfriend asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” You respond. You look down at Toji for a moment, and you see his mischievousness reflect in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. He loves hearing your boyfriend as he tastes you on his tongue. “How are you doing though? T-Tell me about your day.”

Toji’s mouth detaches, saliva connecting his tongue to your cunt. His thumb takes the place of his tongue. You have to bite down your lip to not moan as he makes you feel so good. Toji smirks before commenting, “You taste so good.”

“What was that?” Your boyfriend asks, and you could kill Toji.

“What was what?” You act confused, and you play it well enough for him to drop it. Toji tries not to chuckle as his mouth attaches to your clit again. Your hand goes to his hair and you push his head.

Toji makes it his mission to moan against your cunt, wanting your boyfriend to hear. You can’t risk it anymore, you have to smile, and you tell your boyfriend, “I have to go, babe. Megumi woke up.”

You hang up the phone before he can say anything and toss it to the side. You glare at Toji’s hair while his mouth works wonders, and his fingers hit every right spot in your cunt, “You’re a piece of shit.”

He can’t say anything, he can only hum on your cunt. He knows he’s a jerk, but that doesn’t stop you from moaning as he eats you out. You throw your head back as you feel pressure build up in your lower abdomen.

“Fuck– Toji.” You finally moan his name, and for once in his life he feels jealous that he doesn’t get to hear that every night. Your boyfriend lucked out– Even when you’re here cheating on him. Sure, Toji initiated it physically but you chose your outfit for a fucking reason.

“Shit, shit, shit! I’m gonna come.” You announce, your hand gripping the armchair. You see white as you reach your climax, and Toji moves his fingers in and out of you a couple of times before taking them out. His tongue keeps flicking your clit since he just can’t get enough of your taste on his tongue.

You have to pull him away from your overly sensitive clit, and Toji swears he could die a happy man. You come off your high and you frown, warning him,

“If you caused too much trouble, you’re going to be sorry.”

Toji has never wanted to be sorry in his life before, except now. You hate the smug look on his face, and you click your tongue, “You’re a fucking jerk.”

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rileyslibrary · 5 months

Text

Ghost is forced to dress up as Santa for the day and talk to kids.

You’re ordered to tag along as his Elf and do some damage control if necessary.

———————————————————————

You lean against his armchair, watching the chaos in front of you. Children are crying, tugging at their parents’ clothes, shouting both in excitement and fear, all while looking at you. A young boy keeps waving at your lieutenant, desperate to get his attention, but Ghost is too preoccupied with coming to terms with his new reality to notice.

You return his wave with a smile.

“Try to stay still, Santa,” you remind Ghost as you nod towards the boy. “Kids are watching.”

He snaps back into focus and redirects his attention to the queue. He stretches one last time, pushing on the armrests, before settling into the chair.

“Try not to tell me what to do,” he murmurs and waves back at the child.

You straighten up and tweak your green hat, triggering the bell at its tip to jiggle in your ear. You feel for him; you really do. He’s not supposed to be here; he’s not built for this. Unfortunately—for him or the kids, you haven’t decided yet—the “real” Santa broke his hip at the last minute, and your military base stepped in to provide a new Santa for the local community.

And what better replacement than Ghost, you may ask? Well, literally anybody else.

Dressed in a red costume with white faux fur trim, the lieutenant looks nothing like the man you experienced on the battlefield. His shoulders threaten to rip through the rented outfit, and the seams at the back hold onto each other for dear life. Since his belly wasn’t big enough to simulate Santa’s, you asked him to stuff a pillow under his uniform. Surprisingly, Ghost complied almost instantly, leaving you to wonder if he was using the pillow as Kevlar, a barrier between him and the kids or if he was secretly enjoying this.

You also convinced him to ditch the balaclava for the time being since he would now have plenty of props to conceal his face—a wig, a long beard, glasses, and a red hat with a white pom-pom, to be exact. Additionally, you attempted to trick him into applying some blush on his cheeks, but he side-eyed you and told you to ‘be careful now’—ironic for a man who paints his face daily.

You rub your temples, trying to keep calm amid the chaos of the mall as you prepare for what’s about to happen during the next few hours. You have no idea why Price chose him to be Santa, but you didn’t question it either. Ghost seems to be the least qualified for the job out of everyone in the base. It feels like a last resort, so to speak—a ‘that’s all we have left in the store’ solution.

On the other hand, you know precisely why the captain chose you to accompany him. “To monitor the situation,” he said—“To make sure we don’t get sued,” you heard. And, under normal circumstances, you’d be happy to tag along with Ghost—be it on patrol, on missions, or even transporting confidential documents. But in this situation? Acting as a troubleshooter rather than a teammate? You’d rather be anywhere else than here, with anybody else than him.

You take another look at him while he sits on the chair. He’s tugging at the uniform, scratching his head, and instinctively pulling the beard to his nose.

“Stop doing that,” you whisper. “It’s a beard, not a balaclava.”

“Price would have been perfect for the job, for fucks sake,” he spits. “He has the fucking moustache for starters.”

“Stop with the ‘fucks’ and the ‘fucking’ Ghost; you’re about to talk to kids! And, as for the captain, he said he couldn’t do it.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, lifting his hands from the armrests. “And what makes him think that I can?”

“I wish I knew, to be honest, but we don’t have time to go through this again,” you murmur, looking at your watch one last time. You approach the barrier, unclip the rope from the stanchion, and turn over your shoulder.

“Operation ‘Santa’ begins now,” you declare. “Ready?”

“Do I have a choice?” He replies, shrugging, and gestures for you to proceed.

And so it begins. Your first ‘customer’ arrives, and many more follow. You guide one family at a time into the enclosure and escort them to Ghost, who handles the rest. Some children are hesitant, peeking out from behind their parents’ legs, while others are much more direct with their intentions as they scream in horror at the sight of him.

On the other hand, Ghost is neither your typical jolly Santa nor the irritated lieutenant you’d expect. He appears to be... understanding. He reassures parents that it’s okay and there’s no need to force their children onto his lap if they feel uncomfortable. He initiates conversations with the kids from a respectful distance. He smiles with his eyes and hunches his shoulders to appear less imposing. Sometimes, he lures the shy ones into a handshake, a fist pump, or a high five by lowering his gloved hand to their level.

And then there are those other types of kids: the curious ones, the social butterflies. The ones who look forward to sitting on Ghost’s lap, diving into full-blown conversations with him. That’s when you stiffen up and switch into damage-control mode to ensure he won’t lash out at them. You begin hovering above them, listening, jumping into their conversations and sometimes interrupting Ghost and replying to the kids instead of him.

You would have thought he’d be grateful to have you managing the situation. Ghost, however, seems more irritated by you than by the little girl who’s currently playing with the pom-pom on his hat.

“Oi, Elf!” he says calmly, yet visibly annoyed. “Emma and I are chatting about how she spilt tomato juice on her Elsa costume and wants a new one for Christmas. Could you please falala off and go wrap some presents?”

“B-but I need to know because I’ll be sewing it for her,” you reply, smiling at the little girl. “Isn’t that right, Emma?”

And, although Emma nods her head, more out of necessity than agreement, you get his point. He’s doing surprisingly well with those kids, even without you. Actually, he’s doing remarkably well, especially without you.

More kids come and go, and Ghost slowly adapts to his new persona. He starts making bets with you, predicting which kids in the queue might ask for a PlayStation or an iPad and even speculating who might wipe snot on his costume. You, in response, adopt a more laid-back approach and let him do his thing. After each child’s visit, Ghost turns towards you, whispering in your ear about their Christmas wishes, as if he’s indeed Santa, and keeps logs.

“My man wants a full-sized car wheel,” Ghost murmurs as the young boy leaps off his lap, “can you believe him?”

“What did you say to him?” You ask, stifling a laugh.

“I told him I’ll get it for him,” he shrugs. “What else should I do?”

“Alright, but what did you really want to tell him?”

“That his dad already has four of them screwed in his car.”

As the day winds down, and the final announcement for the day echoes through the speakers, parents and children walk past you and towards the exit. They wave at Ghost and occasionally at you. The parking lot empties, the stores shut their doors until tomorrow, and the holiday lights that decorate the inside of the mall switch off one by one.

You stretch your back and tap on his shoulder, signalling that both of you should pack up and return to the base.

“Nuh-uh,” he says, grasping your wrist with one hand and tapping his thigh with the other. “You didn’t tell me what you want for Christmas.”

You’re exhausted but still manage to smile as you comply with his request. You sit on his lap, and he leans back to take a better look at you.

“Let’s think about it another way,” you say. “What would you, as Santa, give me for Christmas?”

“Coal,” he replies. “And a muzzle, so you don’t interrupt me while I’m talking. What was that all about?”

“Was afraid you’d say something bad,” you explain. “But you were pretty good with those kids.”

He shakes his head and plays with the fur trim on his sleeve. “Nah,” he murmurs. “I’d never say something bad to a kid.”

“Speaking of bad and coal,” you say, combing his fake beard, “you never asked the typical ‘have you been a good kid’ to any of them.”

“There’s no bad kid in the world, love,” he whispers. “All kids are good, even the naughty ones.”

You smile at him, but he doesn’t look back at you. He’s examining his uniform as if trying to find something else to discuss. He finds some crumbs a kid left on his suit and brushes them off.

“Ready to head back to the base, Lieutenant?” You ask, tapping his thigh before standing up. You extend your hand to him, and he gladly accepts it, helping him rise from the chair he’s been sitting in all day. You begin walking towards the exit, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder. You reciprocate by hugging his waist.

You walk up to the parked military vehicle that brought you here earlier, still discussing the day. He opens the door but pauses and turns to look at you.

“Resilience,” he declares. “That’s what I would gift you for Christmas.”

“Why?” You ask, turning to look at him. “You think I need it?”

“We all do,” he replies softly, just like when he used to talk to those kids. “Since I can’t protect you from every obstacle life throws your way, I might as well give you the ability to recover from them.”

“That would make me very happy, Lieutenant.” You say, smiling.

He smiles back at you and reaches for your hat to fix it better on your head. His hand moves to your forehead, and he tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

“It’s Santa to you.” He replies.

———————————————————————

A/N: Bruh, I was so tempted to make the reader pull off a Mariah Carey and say, “All I want for Christmas is you,” when Ghost asked what they wanted, but my gag reflexes kicked in every time, and I was cringing galore.

So, there you go: resilience. That’s what I would like to gift you as well. I wish I could shield you from whatever has troubled you in the past or is currently doing so. To protect you from future worries and make everything ‘falala off’. Unfortunately, I can’t do that, neither for you nor for myself.

But this is why comfort characters and stories exist—so we can imagine, when no one is there for us, that someone actually is.

Just like Santa. Just like Ghost.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x gn!reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley #cod ghost #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #cod mw ghost

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mauvecherie-writes · 3 months

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so ready: l.hamilton.

pairing: lewis hamilton x pt fem!black reader

summary: you’re his trainer, he’s him, the chemistry is undeniable.

warning: 18+ mdni, EXTREME SEXUAL CONTENT, pwp, fast paced, teasing, dirty talk, degradation kink?, unprotected sex, guys, I’m a slut - we sucking and fucking over here.

notes: I put a break on working on endless melodies, this picture called for my attention and here we are 😩. I also don’t know where the 3.5K words came from 😭 this was meant to be short.

w.c: 3.5K

tags: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @hersinsarescarlet @emjayewrites @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @felicity-x0 @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy

buy me a kofi.

You sighed as you walked through the underground garage of the building. You were mentally preparing yourself to be in your client’s presence. You wish you could have rejected his contract but it was such good money to resist - a resource that you needed at the time - and he was a good man. Refusing to train him would have not made sense outside of the biggest con being that you were attracted to him.

Deeply attracted to him.

Every session was a fighting battle and today would be no different.

It had been seven months since you started working with him. Lewis was very serious about his physical health but he was so flirtatious and it made it hard to concentrate on your job. But today, you promised yourself that you would be serious and not give into his little games.

On the elevator ride up to his penthouse, you trained your mind to block his advances and not give into his charm. However, whether you intended to or not, your outfit choice for the session was along the lines of cute and practical. The grey headband keeping your hair away from your face was matching the gym shorts that you were wearing. Your physique was on display without it coming off as a little desperate. It’s not like you needed to put in any type of effort anyway, you were beautiful enough on your own but the outfit was just a greater temptation for Lewis.

Even though you lied to yourself that you didn’t enjoy the game of teasing that you played with him.

“Lewis! I’m here!” You yelled as you walked through the lobby of his penthouse. The patters of Roscoe’s feet against the marbled floor rang through to your ears. The aging dog ran towards you and it brought a smile to your face. You bent down and grabbed the pup’s face into your hands and caressed the deep folds of his cheeks.

“Hi boy!” You spoke with a high pitch to your voice. “You’ve been good for your Dads when I’ve been away?” He licked the palms of your hands as he wiggled his tail.

“Yeah! Because you’re a good boy aren’t you? It’s your Dad that’s the trouble maker.” You said to Roscoe before standing up straight.

“Oh I’m a trouble maker now?” His voice was the first thing that you heard before you saw him. As you walked to the kitchen to wash your hands, you caught sight of him leaning against the living room area wall as he watched you.

Dressed in a dark grey fitted t-shirt and matching grey shorts with black thermals beneath. His locs were braided away from his face, forcing you to bare witness to his beauty.

“You’ve always been one, don’t act so surprised now.” You replied as you watched your hands. You may not be able to see him but you could feel his eyes on your back. You bit your lip as you wiped your hands and then turned around. Your hands were on either side of your body on the counter as you looked at him.

“When have I ever caused trouble for you darling?” He asked as he stood to his full height and moved closer to you in the kitchen area, stopping by the island and leaning fowards against it.

“Do you really want me to answer that question? Because I have a list of examples.”

He laughed at your response instead of answering. He knew exactly what you were talking about.

“Anyway. Are you ready for our session today? I don’t want any problems this time around. You have somewhere to be and so do I. So no funny games.” You stressed the last part of your statement - more to yourself than to him.

Lewis’s eyes were drooped low, his long lashes nearly touching the apple of his cheeks as they hung low before he trailed them from the exposed skin of your thighs to your flushed cheeks as you held in your breath. His teeth trapped the flesh of his bottom lip to restrict his smile from spreading as he stood up straight.

“I’ll be on my good behaviour. I promise.” His voice was an octave deep and laced with temptation. You knew then, that this training session would be anything but smooth sailing.

A good sparring session was a great way to end a productive session. Lewis stayed true to his word for most of the time but he’d throw in a flirtatious jab here and there that had you flustered. As much as you tried to hate it, you revelled in the way that those comments made you feel.

One last sparring session and you won’t have to see him for another three days.

You needed that breather.

“Come on baby girl. You can give it to me harder than that.” He teased as he bounced on his feet as he moved away from you. You rolled your eyes as you flexed your arms.

“I’m your trainer Lewis. I’m not supposed to be harder on you.”

“I can take it.” He shrugged. “That’s something you’re supposed to be saying in the right circumstances.”

“You’re a cocky little shit!” You stressed as your fingers flexed in the punching mitts before you began to run after him.

“There we gooo. Give me that fire, show me what you got baby.” He smirked at you. You fumed as you stopped chasing him and took off your punching mitts.

“Beating your ass would give me the greatest pleasure.” You said as you threw the mitts down before pulling the bandage wrap out of your open bag.

“I can do many things that can bring you pleasure that don’t involve us boxing.”

“Prove it.” You spat at him.

Before things moved forward, Lewis did the one thing that he knew would disrupt your focus.

He took his shirt off and kicked it close to the edge of the floor to ceiling mirror. All of the witty comments dried in your throat as you took him in. The defined muscles of his abs, the deep pelvis lines, the rich tan contrasting his tattoos and most of all, the budding chest hair.

Involuntarily, your thighs clenched at the sight.

He licked his lips as he watched you struggle for words. He could see the fight in your eyes as you were determined to not fall into the trap of your attraction but your body was failing tremendously.

Fine. You thought. Two can play that game.

Without warning, you grabbed the edge of your top and pulled it over your head. If Lewis thought his naked chest would disrupt you then you could pull the same card. Left in just your padded sports bra, you watched as Lewis became as speechless as you had been.

You were not going to make this easy for him.

Lewis finished wrapping his hands. “I’m ready.”

The both of you put up a good fight. Physically and mentally. Every hit, every jab, felt like a victory in the war of desire. Both of your bodies damp from sweat with how much energy you exerted during this ‘friendly’ sparring session.

You were winning. He asked for your all and you gave it. This was something just to prove to yourself that you could resist him. That you could withstand his charm and that your attraction didn’t lead you blind.

Then he grabbed your wrists and pulled younclose to his body. You gasped as he tightly held your hands behind your back trapping them by his torso as his other arm wrapped around your waist.

“Aren’t you tired of playing this game sweetheart?” He whispered in your ear.

“You started it. Of everyone, you should know how crucial professionalism should be.” You hissed back as you struggled to get out of his hold.

“How could I focus on staying professional when every part of me wants to explore every inch on you. And don’t try to deny it either. I see the way you look at me, the way you desire me in a way that would disgrace the gods.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he spoke. His words were the apple from the tree of knowledge and his voice was the serpent in the garden of Eden.

“I can’t pretend anymore.” He confessed. “I want you YN. I want you so fucking much.”

“Now you admit it.” You say as you squirmed. Lewis held onto you tighter.

“I never denied it darling.” He chuckled in your ear. “You did. We wouldn’t be having this back and forth if you had just admitted that you were into me the way I was into you.”

“That wouldn’t change the fact that I was compromising a client-employer relationship and my reputation just for some dick.”

“This dick would change your life baby.”

“You’re so fucking annoying!”

“Turn around and say that to my face.”

He spun you in his arms before another word could be uttered. You stared at each other with no words spoken as your eyes ventured from their eyes to their lips. The action causing you to lick your lips.

“Cat got your tongue?” He teased as his hands dropped to your waist and pulled you closer. The smile on his face held the promise of everything that he had teased and taunted you about. Wicked and sinful things that had your mouth watering at the mere thought of them.

Body to body like this, the wall that you had been building in your mind had come crumbling down. Not that you had put up that big of a fight anyway but the effort that had been exerted up to now was too much and you were giving it up.

You were ready. You were more than ready.

“You’ve been trying your hardest to break me. And for a while I forgot that I too can play this game very well.” You said as you hooked a finger around the strap of your bra and brought it down your arm.

“I want you Lewis, I do.” You finally admitted. “But you want me just as much, if not more.” You unhooked your bra and flung it across the room. He fought to push the bandages away from his knuckles before embracing you with his big hands running up and down your back.

“If you had just given me the chance, I would loved on you the second I knew that you felt the same.” He whispered as his hands trailed down your back and settled on your ass. He kneaded the flesh of your ass cheeks, drawing you closer so that you could feel his breath on the top of your lip.

You leaned forward and kissed him with all of your might. All of the pent up desire you had been holding at bay for the last seven months burst out of you. You pushed your body into his as he moved his lips roughly over yours, opening your mouth for the sweet intrusion of his tongue as he deepened the kiss. Your nails dug into his back as you wrapped a leg around his waist as you felt the lower part of his body pressing into you.

Lewis moved his hand from your ass, trailing it up your spine before cupping the back of your neck and pulling you inwards. You gasped as he nibbled on your bottom lip, pulling the lip into his mouth. Your pussy creamed at the realisation at just how hard his dick was as it rested against you.

“Let me taste you.” You said as you pulled your lips away. “Please.”

“Do you think you deserve it? After the way you made me feel for wanting you? You think you deserve my touch?”

“Lewis … please.”

“Take these off.” He growled as he tugged at your grey shorts. You made light work of them before stepping back into his embrace. Your small cotton panties were digging into the flesh of your hips but Lewis quickly tugged at the material and shoved them down the length of her legs.

His eyes focused back on your face as he felt your hands move down the back of his head and edge him closer to your core. He pushed your legs further apart as his fingers teased your hot skin. His eyes soaking in every reaction that he drew out of you.

“You have spend the last seven months playing hard to get but here you are, ready to crumble at the touch of my fingers.” Lewis whispered as he pressed kisses onto your stomach.

“You’re talking entirely too much for someone who has pussy staring them in their face.”

“And this pussy is glorious, believe me. But I need you to suffer a little bit.”

He gave you an inch by running his fingers teased along your slit but did not settle his fingers where you needed him the most. Instead of shoving his digits into your cunt like he wanted, he brought them to his lips and licked them clean.

“So good.” He said and then stood straight and buried his face into the crook of your neck. He licked at your flesh before sinking in his teeth. The way he drew your skin into his mouth caused you to moan.

“Lew, please. Please.” You begged before he claimed your mouth yet again. He kissed you hard with his tongue lashing against yours before his teeth sunk into your bottom lip causing the sweetest pain to shoot up your spine. You pushed your body against him as far as your standing position would allow.

He wrapped his hands in your sweated out hair which was reverting back to its natural curl pattern. He pulled away from your lips and stared down at you with the darkest look of arousal tainting his beautiful eyes.

You watched as a cocky smirk etched on his face. You knew Lewis had you. Once your inhibitions were shut down, it was very easy for you to turn to your desires. And that lust had you falling to your knees as you looked up at him as his cock swelled in the confines of his thermals.

You pushed the fabric further down his thick thighs until his cock was revealed and … holy shit.

You knew that Lewis had the inches and the girth to work with but you weren’t expecting it to be so … heavy? His dick was so big and thick but it was nothing you couldn’t work with. Especially with the smugness glazing his eyes, you took it as a challenge.

His legs were spread, standing tall and proud as his dick bobbed in front of you. Heavy, leaking and begging for your oral attention.

“Open your mouth.” He said as he held his cock by the base and pointed it towards your plump lips.

Your mouth quickly hung open and your tongue darted out to lick his tip. You swirled your tongue around the head before you slid most of his dick into your mouth and sucked. You were extra as fuck as you licked and slurped, wanting him to understand the sloppy, messy head that awaited him. That you had been fantasising about this moment for a long time and now you were going to show to show him what you were about.

“Sucking this dick so fucking good.” He groaned as he held your head and tipped it back before moving his hips so that his tip was brushing back against the back of your throat.

“This is what you needed huh? My dick in your mouth to turn you into a little slut for me.” You moaned around him as you stretched your hands out on his torso, feeling his chest hairs prickle against your palm.

You don’t answer him as you continue working your head up and down his length. He felt so good in your mouth. The muskiness of his scent was all that you could think off as your saliva pooled in your mouth the more he worked his hips, fucking your mouth.

You were so eager to suck his dick. You pushed your head down further, taking him deeper down your throat which caused his knees to buckle.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Lewis groaned as he fisted your hair tighter, looking down at you as you moved your head fast, spit bubbles building as your nose brushed against his pelvis before your hand came up to fondle with his balls.

“Just like that. Keep sucking me just like that baby.” He gasped as you continued sucking on him as if you were trying to take his soul. Sure, Lewis had brought you down to your knees but you were making him regret ever thinking that he held all of the cards. There were no words to describe just how good you were sucking his dick. Your hands cradling his balls, his tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat - this was more than otherworldly.

When you pulled your lips away from him, Lewis felt like he could breathe as you moved your hand around his length in tight, circular motions.

“If I didn’t want to come inside of you, I would have come all over your beautiful face.” He spoke with a hoarseness to his voice before he manoeuvered you underneath him. The gym mats were harsh against your skin but you were past the point of caring.

“Fuck me.” You whispered as Lewis shifted your legs into the crooks of his arms as his dick rubbed against your opening. You reached up and claimed his mouth. His saltiness lingered between each entanglement of your lips. You tasted the remnants of your sweetness in his mouth the longer you greedily moved your mouth against his.

You didn’t care for the way the hard mats were biting into your skin. All you cared about what the surge of lust that burst through you as Lewis rubbed his cock against your cunt. His hand travelled up to your throat and squeezed as he positioned himself in between your legs. Every single gasp and little cry that he pulled out of you pushed him closer to the edge. His lips sought your earlobe as he raised your leg to his shoulder before he finally sunk into your pussy.

You were so soft. So sweet. So tight. So wet. You accepted him like you’d been waiting for him all this time and then clenched onto him so hard that Lewis so felt lightheaded before he could complete his stroke.

Lewis needed to regain his composure but you were a withering mess beneath him. Your scent like a cocoon around the both of you, he couldn’t find his bearings as he found a rhythm to his strokes.

Slow and deep as you arched your back and dug your nails into the skin of his back.

Your lips parted as you struggled to catch your breath with the sexy sounds of your pleasure reverberating through the room, bouncing off the equipment back into his ears.

Lewis let your legs fall back to his waist as he dropped to his forearms so that his body, slick with sweat, pressed against yours. You immediately wrapped both of your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper into you as he resumed his slow, deep thrusts coupled with circular motions that always pulled a sharp, little cry from you beneath him.

For months he had dreamt you like this. Underneath him, begging and crying for him as he deprived your body of pleasure.

Your nipples grazed his chest as he moved. You trailed your fingernails down the length of his back as you pulled him in for frantic kisses as the both of you moved towards the inevitable conclusion.

Lewis pressed his forehead against yours as your pussy started clenching rapidly around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he demanded through his teeth. “Cum all over this dick.”

You screamed his name and it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. He covered your mouth with his, swallowing your cries of pleasure, thrusting hard and fast into you as he chased the orgasm building in him.

You scratched at his back, gripped the sheets and bit into the pillow even as you started moving your hips up to meet his dick.

“Lewis!” You yelled as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your orgasm plummeting through your body.

“That’s it sweetheart. Come all over this dick.” He growled into your ear as he bucked his hips hard and fast before the force of his climax had him tensing and twitching in between your legs.

You hummed softly as Lewis returned to himself once his muscles had stopped twitching. All that pent up energy had finally been released and the both of you were butt naked in his private gym.

So many lines had been crossed tonight but either of you cared. Especially when he kissed you senseless and promised you more orgasms than you were ready to give.

London fashion week be damned ….

#mauvecherie writes #so ready fic #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fic #sir lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton #lh #sir lewis hamilton

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dark-fics-4-you · 14 days

Text

After Hours Lesson

dark!Professor!Coriolanus Snow x f!Reader

A/N: i imagine coryo as being in his late 30s to mid 40s in this fic, but I left his age open to imagination. Reader is 21 and I imagine her as not being a virgin

Warnings: noncon, forced sex, somno, fingering, choking, strangling, drugging, teacher x student relationship, slapping, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink

it wasn’t everyday that one of your university professors invited the entire class out to dinner at a nice restaurant, so of course you wanted to dress your best. looking at yourself in the mirror, you felt that the soft button-down white shirt and grey houndstooth jacket paired well with your pleated grey skirt, knee length white socks and black mary janes, and it was an outfit that would surely impress your professor.

only a couple other students had arrived so far and as soon as you made your way over to the table, you noticed his eyes on you. “y/n! sit by me,” he smiled at you charmingly, gesturing to the empty chair beside him. you nervously complied, shooting him a smile before sliding in to the open chair.

the entire night you could feel him looking over at you, even when he was in conversation with other students, his gaze always seemed to drift over to you.

it was your senior year at university and you had opted to take an elective class with a popular professor, professor coriolanus snow. you were surprised when you walked in on the first day and found that most of the students were women. apparently rumors about professor snow’s good looks had gone around the school, but you hadn’t heard anything about them when you were registering for classes, you just thought the course looked interesting.

“are you going to get a glass of wine?”

his question roused you from your thoughts and you blinked at him before he questioned you again. “well you’re 21, right?”

“i am, but i don’t know if i should drink tonight.” you replied nervously. “i mean, would that be okay?”

you looked around the table, noting that two of your classmates were also drinking.

“of course, y/n.” he told you before addressing the table, “dinner and drinks are on me, i’m paying for it all.”

you smiled at his generosity and thanked him before picking up a menu and browsing the wine list.

even though professor snow was in a conversation with the other students, when he saw you looking unsure about what to order he leaned over and pointed to an expensive vintage red.

“this is one of my absolute favorites. i think you’ll love it.” he caught the eye of a waiter and ordered you a glass before you could even think it over, much less process the price.

the appetizers were brought out to the table quickly, and you were excited to try the array of choices professor snow had ordered for the table.

before you could reach for one of them, coriolanus picked up the plate you had been eyeing and offered to serve you.

“oh, yes please, thank you very much professor snow!” you smiled at him and offered your own plate to him.

he placed two pieces of toasted bread on your plate before grabbing small bowl of the tomato sauce it came with to spoon some onto your plate.

his wrist slipped however and he accidentally dropped a bit of sauce onto the exposed skin of your mid-thigh, just below where your skirt ended.

before you could even react, your professor was apologizing profusely and he grabbed a napkin off the table and gently wiped up the red sauce.

you shivered when you felt his fingers brush against your skin as he cleaned you off and you felt a hot flush rising to your cheeks.

“thanks, i’m gonna um, finish cleaning this up in the bathroom.” you nervously told him, flinching away from his touch and rushing to the restroom.

you quickly locked yourself into a stall, breathing heavily as you tried to calm yourself. he was your professor! you didn’t want to be getting butterflies in your stomach at his touch.

you finished cleaning off the small remnants of the sauce on your leg, taking a deep breath and collecting yourself before going back out to the table.

your wine had arrived, as well as all of the entrees and you took a bite before trying a sip of the wine. it was probably the best drink you had ever tasted in your life and you looked over to see your professor staring at you with a raised eyebrow, as if to say ‘what do you think?’

“wow this wine is amazing!” you told him appreciatively and he grinned back at you.

“i knew you would like it, y/n. young ladies like you usually don’t have such good taste, but i had a feeling you would appreciate it.”

his thoughtful words made your cheeks flush again and you bashfully thanked him for the compliment.

you sipped the wine, enjoying the way it’s flavor profile complimented the dish you got perfectly. it must have been a higher alcohol percentage than usual however, because you were already feeling it’s effects strongly after drinking less than half.

“what are your plans once you graduate, y/n?” the sound of your professor’s voice surprised you and you met his gaze as you answered.

“i’m hoping to go to law school after i graduate.” you responded, pride rising in your chest as you thought of all the hard work you had put in to reaching your goal of law school.

“that makes perfect sense for a bright girl like you. i’m sure you’ll excel there,” he confidently told you.

his focus shifted to the other students and as the night carried on and you drank more of your wine, you found yourself feeling very tipsy.

after professor snow paid the bill and everyone finished up their goodbyes, you stood to leave and you were surprised when the world started tilting beneath your feet.

a firm hand steadied you at your waist, and you turned to see your professor behind you.

“are you okay?” he asked, voice filled with concern.

you tried to stand on your own again, only to nearly fall over a second time. “i don’t think so, i feel kind of drunk,” you slurred.

he frowned and looked at you with worry on his face.

“i don’t think you should drive yourself home right now, y/n. why don’t you let me take you?”

you wanted to argue with him and disagree, but when you tried to stand on your own again and felt so dizzy you could have fainted, you realized he was probably right.

“okay,” you mumbled, allowing him to support you as he walked you to his car.

your professor helped you in to the passenger seat, making sure you had buckled yourself in before going to the driver’s side.

you leaned your head against the cool window, trying to stop your head from spinning as professor snow pulled out of his parking spot and started driving.

you were watching the street lights blur past, struggling to keep your heavy eyelids open, when you realized you hadn’t told him your address.

you opened your mouth to speak, but the next time you blinked, darkness filled your vision and you slipped into unconsciousness.

you woke to the feeling of warm, wet lips enveloping one of your nipples.

when your eyes cracked opened, you were almost too shocked to believe what you were seeing.

your jacket was missing, and your white button up top was split open, exposing your bare breasts. your professor was positioned on top of your, lips attached to your nipple as his hands squeezed and caressed your tits.

you were laying on a large bed, in what was definitely not your house and you felt like an idiot for not realizing that everything was off earlier.

terror filled you chest, lodging itself in you throat, and you tried to squirm away, but your body was frozen in place and your limbs felt so heavy you could barely move.

coriolanus sensed that you had woken up and when he looked down at you with a devilish grin, you shivered in fear.

“don’t try anything, y/n.” your professor’s cool tone made your stomach twist in disgust and a horrible chill passed over you as you realized this was why he had offered to drive you home.

“professor-” his lips smothered yours, cutting off your wavering voice before you could protest. your stomach flipped when he kissed you and your jaw dropped in surprise allowing him to force his tongue into your mouth.

when he finally pulled away, you gasped for breath. you saw stars behind your eyes and you weren’t sure if you were dizzy because of how fast the room was spinning or because of the way he had kissed you.

“you’re so beautiful, y/n, you know that?” he softly breathed. “ever since entered my class that first day, i thought you were perfect.”

your pulse was racing in your ears, anxiety gripping your throat as you helplessly looked up at him. everything was moving too fast, and your brain couldn’t accept the reality you had woken up in.

“and then tonight when you walked in with this innocent little school girl look? fuck, it took all of my self control not to rip this off of you and bend you over the table in front of your classmates,” coriolanus chuckled darkly, eyes scanning your body as he did.

his words were revolting, but even worse was the feeling of his fingers brushing your thighs as he lifted up your skirt. coriolanus situated himself between your legs, greedily admiring the soft skin of your thighs before pushing your skirt up and exposing more of you to his probing eyes.

when he saw the white, lacy panties you were wearing, he paused, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he took in the view before him. “aw sweetheart, did you wear these just for me?”

your cheeks flushed with shame and embarrassment at his words and he chuckled again at your silence.

the older man traced the lace near your hips before looping his fingers under the soft material and tugging your panties down. you tried to squeeze your legs together to stop him, but your professor easily pushed them open again and dragged your panties off of you.

you flinched when you felt professor snow’s hand nearing your core, and he held down one of your legs in a tight grip.

the tip of his finger traced your slit and you whimpered at the feeling. was this really happening? how had you found yourself drugged out of your mind at the mercy of your professor?

coriolanus watched your face as he slowly slid one finger into your heat. you were already so wet, he didn’t even need to warm you up, and the way you clenched around just one of his fingers had his pants growing tight.

your lips parted in surprise, a small moan crawling out of your throat. his finger curled inside you and tears came to your eyes when you felt yourself squeezing around his finger.

“you’re so wet,” he groaned before sliding his middle finger into you.

you tensed beneath him, whining when the pressure between your legs doubled.

“just relax,” your professor’s voice was a bit shaky as he pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt.

coriolanus’s thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive cluster of nerves. your body was tingling, every sensation was heightened in your fear and you couldn’t stop yourself from loudly moaning as he massaged your inner walls.

you realized you could feel yourself growing wetter and you blinked hot tears from your eyes. you were disgusted by everything that was happening, so why were you shifting your hips to match the thrusts of his fingers?

the twisted pleasure was building in your gut and coriolanus could feel it too. his thumb swirled over your clit and you came undone around his fingers. your thighs quaked as your professor fucked you with his fingers through your orgasm, and your mind felt blank as you numbly sagged against his bed. shame and guilt fogged your mind, and you felt completely betrayed by your body

coriolanus slowly pulled his fingers out of you before pulling them apart slowly and watching your slick juices stick to his spread fingers in thin, pearly strings.

the older man brought his fingers to his lips, licking your juices off of his fingers while gazing at you through half lidded eyes.

“mmm, you taste so sweet, y/n,” he purred and when you realized you got butterflies in your stomach at his words, you felt bile rise in your throat.

he started unbuttoning his shirt and you could feel the room spinning around you. you wanted to look away, but you were weighed down by terror and too scared to even blink.

coriolanus removed his shirt, revealing his muscular, but still lean physique. panic began to really set in when he unbuttoned his pants and removed them and his boxers. your eyes widened at the sight of his erect length. he was bigger than any of the few guys you had been with before, and also unlike your previous experience, coriolanus was determined to take things at his pace.

you felt light-headed and you could barely twitch your muscles, much less move your limbs. that didn’t stop you from trying though, and pure adrenaline gave you the strength to squeeze your legs shut and attempt to prevent what you already knew was coming.

given everything your professor had done to you up until this point— drugging you, kidnapping you, trapping you in his house, and now forcing himself upon you— you would have thought that you wouldn’t be surprised when he slapped you across the face with the back of his hand.

any delusion you may have been desperately clinging to that coriolanus snow was a ‘good’ man shattered then and there.

your head whipped to the side and your field of vision went white for a moment. white hot pain seared into your cheek and when you opened your eyes again, they were blurry with tears.

the sight of you trembling and crying beneath him was a sight that your professor had been secretly fantasizing about for months and now that he was finally witnessing it firsthand, he was eager to make all of his deepest desires a reality.

“don’t fight it, y/n.” his voice was shaking with excitement as he positioned himself between your legs and started lining up the tip of his cock with your slick cunt. you whined when you felt the head slide between your lips and start to push inside of you.

his tip slid past the resistance of your tight grip, but he tilted his hips back to pull out, and you felt confused and hurt when your body wanted more.

professor snow grinned down at you wickedly, relishing the sight of your eyes begging with his and your plump lips parting more when he moved again, sliding the tip of his thick cock into your cunt a second time and earning a heavenly whimper from you.

“you like that, sweetheart?” he asked softly, smugness dripping from his voice like rancid honey. he pushed himself an inch or two deeper, and his arms, which were caging you in beneath him, were shaking slightly as he held himself back from sheathing all of himself in you at once.

your professor grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head tightly as he slowly stretched you out with his cock. his face was so close to yours that your noses were almost touching and he swallowed your noises of protest with messy kisses.

tears were streaming down your face when the tip of his cock nudged your cervix and you tried to shift beneath him to adjust to the intense pressure between your legs, but he pinned you to the bed with just one of his strong arms. his other hand rested on the outside of your thigh, roughly gripping your curves.

you were terrified, completely disgusted with your professor and desperate to escape his iron clad hold on you.

“please no!” you quietly whined, straining to break free of his grasp and failing. “it’s too big!”

coriolanus groaned when you twitched around his cock, and the pathetic way that you tried to resist him was so adorable it almost made him laugh.

he tilted his hips back and started pumping his cock into you. you could sense yourself getting more slick as his length dragged along your walls, and your legs instinctively wrapped around coriolanus’ torso, pulling him in closer to you.

your professor peppered open mouth kisses over any exposed skin he could find, making his way from sucking on your tits to sliding his lips over yours, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that the sensation made something twist deep in the pit of your stomach.

when you moaned against his lips, his hand captured your jaw, keeping you trapped beneath him as his hips snapped against yours. his cock stretched you out again and again and coriolanus was relishing every sigh and gasp you gave him as he fucked you.

“you’re squeezing me so tight, doll.” professor snow’s voice was strained, his teeth gritted as he began thrusting into you harder. the hand at your jaw traced to your throat, and you looked up at him through your lashes in fear when he started choking you.

“professor!” you forced the word out past the crushing hand at your throat and you swore you felt his cock twitch inside you in response.

his pace was relentless. after feeling tortured by you for an entire semester, coriolanus snow was going to take what he believed he was owed, whether you liked it or not.

the fingers at your throat tightened and your eyes widened in terror when his second hand wrapped around your throat as well.

each stroke of his cock made your sensitive clit tingle with overstimulation and you couldn’t stifle your whines any longer as you were pushed over the edge.

you squeezed your eyes shut when you came, unable to look at your professor after he made you come undone against your will for the second time that night.

his grip on your throat strengthened as you tightened and spasmed around his length, and you hopelessly gasped for air that wouldn’t come. you were beginning to feel lightheaded now, the pain of his hands constricting your neck was making your vision grow fuzzy around the edges.

the blond’s hips snapped against yours furiously, punishingly; and desperately scratching at the hands at your throat only seemed to make him choke you harder.

you were petrified at the thought that if you didn’t do anything to stop him, you were about to die, but his hold on you was so tight that you couldn’t get away. he was so much bigger than you, there was no way you could overpower him.

as your vision slowly faded away, you heard professor snow groan loudly, thrusting into you a few more times before pushing himself as deep as possible and gripping your thighs tightly as he spilled his sticky seed deep into your sore, weeping cunt.

and then everything went black

#coriolanus snow #professor coriolanus snow #professor!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #dark coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas #hunger games tbosas #yandere coriolanus snow #after hours lesson

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zhongrin · 1 year

Text

“you’re not going out like that.”

— you say with a pout and a glare.

or, you stop him before going out because of his clothes.

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, xiao, scaramouche, childe, diluc, pantalone

◇ tags ◇ modern!au, fluff, reader is not ‘controlling’ if that’s what you’re afraid of seeing

◇ a/n ◇ can you buy a zhongli irl off amazon or something i'm asking for a friend- /j

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli raises his eyebrows, questioning ambers seeking an explanation from you.

with a sigh, you stalk towards his side and pinch the thin material of his shirt, berating him nonstop over how the temperature has started to drop outside and how he’ll catch a cold if he doesn’t bundle up.

he lets you drag him back to the bedroom and smiles softly as you rummage through his coats and sweaters, all the while still lecturing him about the importance of his health now that you’re both getting older.

what you don’t know is that he does this purposefully so that you’ll fuss over him. call him whipped, but he adores seeing you care for him like a mother hen; he may trust your love in all its entirety, but he certainly doesn’t mind getting a reminder of it every now and then.

it’s the same reason why he leaves his tie a little crooked every morning: just so you could scold him for how he’s gotten lousy ever since you both got married. he would always chuckle and apologize, but inwardly he just can’t help it; surely all husbands want to be spoiled by their lovely spouse?

childe giggles and winks towards you before gesturing to his outfit with a flair as if he’s in a fashion show model which to be fair he kinda looks the part.

“awh, why not? don’t you want to show off how good this boyfriend of yours look?”

“you mean announce to the whole world that i’m dating a fuckboy? no thanks.”

the brunette pouts at the half-serious, half-joking expression on your face and positions his hands on his hips like a petulant child(e), “oh, i’m sorry that i’m hot and i’m unashamed of it! besides, what can they do? grope me?”

you roll your eyes and slip your hands through the wide gap by the sides of his clothes to grab onto his chest.

childe freezes like deer in headlights, but regains his composure quickly; in a blink, he gives you a playful grin, but before he can utter anything scandalous, you pull him into a kiss and uses the element of surprise to steal his breath away.

and when your boyfriend ends up sprawled under you on the couch fifteen minutes later, you don’t miss the winning smile and happy wrinkle of skin spread across his freckled cheeks.

honestly, he could’ve just told you (you know, like a normal person) if he didn’t actually want to go out, instead of always pulling stunts like this.

kunikuzushi stares at you with half his mouth open, clearly surprised and offended at your statement and the insults you blatantly threw his way right after.

what do you mean he looks like a sleazebag? sure, it’s a hoodie from yesterday(’s yesterday), but it looks fine! it smells bearable! it’s comfy! he’s too lazy to change out of it! not when it’s just a trip down to the nearby cafe!

archons, he’s just a common engineer who builds robots, not some high-strung profile in some fancy mafia organization… is what he insists, and he continues to groan and bemoans his fate even as you brought a change of clothes for him.

he might as well be a cat with how he bristles at your threat of running a bath for him, but he quietens when you double the threat with an offer to ‘scrub his poor scalp clean’.

“….. do it then,” he challenges, crossing his arms like a true brat™️, although his eyes are shining with excitement.

you two end up getting takeouts that night.

xiao pauses from putting on his watch and looks at you quizzically.

why would a dress shirt and slacks be an unacceptable fashion choice? last he checked, you were both just going to visit that favorite restaurant of yours.

the man blinks owlishly at the adorable way you stomp your feet and points to the accessories you’re wearing. he cracks a momentary smile when he recognizes them as the ones he bought for you last week; it’s just as he imagined, they look lovely on you. however, the said quirk of his lips disappears as you tell him that he’s forgotten to wear his matching ones even though he had promised to.

“ah,” he scratches his cheek, “i forgot… tsk, alright, alright, i’ll go change. this outfit won’t work with those colors, let me just-”

you end up late to your reservation and were unable to get a table, but seeing the content smile on your pretty lips when you saw the ‘date night!’ selfie you took on the fast food parking lot in his car, he thinks it’s all worth it.

your smile is always worth it.

“why not-”

“you’re a fashion disaster!”

diluc freezes and honestly if it was anyone else he would have ignored them and stormed off in embarrassment.

but this was you. you matter. your opinions matter. he doesn’t want to embarrass you.

“is… is it that bad?” he asks with a blush on his face as you throw his old coat onto the bed and unbuttons the plain shirt he always defaults to wearing.

your rich but struggling-with-fashion boyfriend watches and listens, as silent as a timid bunny, as you tell him the latest trend and the ‘boyfriend look’ or whatever it was called. he's just helplessly nodding and obeying as you hand him the change of clothes, hoping that will lessen the frown between your brows.

“is this a… bracelet?”

“it’s a choker, luc.”

“but they’re so short.”

“it’s supposed to rest around your throat, dear.”

“oh.”

he’s not sure whether he looks okay or not, but judging from adelinde’s messages bombarding his phone that night, gushing about how proud she is to ‘see that the young master has grown to be able to comprehend fashion trends’ after seeing your instagram stories, he thinks he should just ask you to pick his clothes from now own.

when you tell him he looks like he’s about to brave the cold of the mountains in dragonspine, pantalone hums and tilts his head in thought.

perhaps the coat was too much, he agrees as he discards the thick materials. but you huff and press him to remove his gloves and overcoat, and while he understands that he might have gone overboard in dressing up, given how he’s used to the biting cold of snezhnaya’s freezing climates, he can’t help but smirk at the way you’re hurriedly unbuttoning his clothes.

“my, you look quite desperate for me, sweetheart. are you sure you wish to go out tonight? if you'd like, i can always tell them to send the chef over so we can-”

he chuckles when you hit his chest playfully and lets you modify his clothing as you see fit.

well, no matter. if he gets cold he can always buy a coat outside….

... he still ends up sweating like crazy and he does not understand how you can be perfectly fine in this horrendous heat.

calm down pantalone it’s only like 34 degrees celcius.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #childe #tartaglia #ajax #childe x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader

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yuqiyu · 1 year

Text

Guitar Lessons (Eddie Munson x F!Reader)

♡ part 2

Summary: During one of your hangouts at Eddie's trailer, he offers to give you some guitar lessons.

Word Count: 6.6k

Tags: NSFW, sexual content, cunnilingus, face riding, making out, eating out, fluff, friends to lovers (kinda), slight angst, dramatic reader, no use of y/n

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“How long have you played?” you ask as you graze your fingers over the body of the guitar. It’s smooth and cold, the design fitting right in with Eddie’s aesthetic.

He’s looking at you cutely, leaning back on his forearms against the bed. There’s a sparkle in his doe eyes as he shifts a bit.

“So I see you’ve met the lady of the house,” he says, a slight lilt to his voice. “Go on, take her down.”

As you carefully step over a messy pile of cassette tapes beside another pile of clothes, Eddie makes a grabbing motion and mumbles a That’s right, come to papa. You stifle a laugh, releasing a snort in the process. He shoots a look at you, fully defensive.

Once the guitar (or the love of his life, as he’d say) is in his hands, it fits perfectly like a puzzle piece on his body. His neck is slightly craned over it. You think he’s looking at the strings, but as you move closer, his eyes are closed.

He starts plucking out a couple chords, a sweet melody completely contradicting the visuals you are being fed. You begin to close your eyes as well, allowing the music to flow through the both of you. It sounds beautiful despite not being hooked up to an amp.

It has been only a couple of months since you first met Eddie in the hallway between classes. You recall a head full of messy curls hanging over what you thought were interesting choices in an outfit. Girls were avoiding him left and right as he picked up the remnants of his stuff off the ground after a couple jocks had so kindly knocked them out of his hands.

When you had picked up a notebook that had fallen behind him, a few loose papers with unfamiliar charts and symbols fell out. You plucked them up for a closer study.

“Just getting ready for the Satanic rituals this Thursday,” he mused. You looked up in surprise.

He was a very pretty man, his hair framing his slim face surprisingly well. His large eyes bore into you, and you swore you could get lost in the dark abyss behind them.

“What?”

“Sorry, bad joke.” He looked at you sheepishly, then to the notebook in your hands.

“Right, sorry.” Even after you quickly handed it back to him, he continued staring at you, amused.

“Are you new?”

You shuffled your feet, feeling even more awkward than you already were.

“Yeah.” And the rest was history.

You open your eyes when the music stops. Eddie is staring at you with a crooked grin, inches away from your face.

“Jeez, you’re so creepy,” you laugh as you push him off. Ever the drama queen he is, he falls backward onto the bed limply, the guitar following suit. His hands are clutched over his heart as his face fakes a wounded expression.

“I just gave you the best serenade you will ever hear in your life, and this is how you repay me?” He all but shrieks at you as you continue slapping at his arm.

“ Ever? That’s such a loaded statement, Eddie. You haven’t even answered my question.”

He jumps back up, then pauses for a beat. “I don’t know, my whole life I guess,” he shrugs.

You stare back at the guitar, still being held snugly in his arms. There was no way to stop the idea of you being there instead, but you shake yourself out of it.

“That’s pretty cool, though. I don’t know how to play any instruments.” You copy his pose from earlier, supporting yourself up by your forearms. He twists his neck towards you, that beautiful damn smile beaming a hundred miles per hour your way.

“Really,” he questions, dragging out the word playfully. “How about I, the greatest guitarist ever, teach you some new things.”

“Again, such a loaded statement, but okay. Hit me.”

The next hour or so is not exactly what you were expecting. He has an old acoustic guitar hiding somewhere in his closet (which he searches for with difficulty, under more piles of items) and has you test the waters on it. With the pleasant surprise of Eddie literally wrapping your back with his arms, moving your fingers to the right formations, you are basically floating on cloud nine.

He is a demonstrations type of guy, not an I-will-show-you-first-then-you-play kind of way, but in an I-will-wrap-my-gorgeous-hands-around-yours kind of way. This shouldn’t have shocked you, ever since he cupped his hands over yours just to help you roll some dice when you hesitated during a campaign, at least. You often took sneaky glances at his fingers after that day, how could you help it? The day he finds out about your secret hand fetish will be the day you change your identity, because not only would it feed his already inflated ego, he would never let you live it down. He already has so much ammo against you, and you dread that only one more will put you six feet under.

Eddie was exceedingly patient with you in teaching the strings and the chords, even though you had trouble memorizing where to place your fingers. You wish you could say the same about previous teachers, who were truly wicked demons compared to him.

You let yourself falter and lean backwards, just enough for Eddie to notice. He suddenly peels your fingers off the instrument and gives little kisses to them.

You yank your hand back in surprise and squeak out, “Eddie!”

His stupid antics always make it hard for you not to fall for him. It sometimes feels like he does it on purpose, like he means to fuel your feelings even more.

“Just thought they needed some healing kissies ,” he replies, his pitch increasing at the end to mock you.

“Kissies are only for couples,” you snapped, unable to process anything but the imprint of his soft lips on your hands. You hope you don’t look as dazed as you feel right now.

He simply ignores you and strokes the neck of the guitar, still wrapped comfortably around you. “You’re a natural at this, y’know? Maybe you should get some real lessons.”

“Yeah, right. It sure doesn’t feel like it.” You give your hands a good shake, loosening all the muscles as you sighed in relief. Dark, red lines were etched deep into your fingertips. Looking at them only made the pain feel even more real.

He grabs them again, gripping them tightly. “Hey—hey, careful! These hands have unknown potential! You could be a god with these.”

“‘Thought you said you were the best out there,” you smile, nudging him in the ribs. He feigns offense.

“I am, but if there’s gonna be someone better out there, I’d rather it be you!”

You can only roll your eyes at him as he drops his chin on your shoulder. He must be bored out of his mind right now, so you push for a new topic.

“Why are you being so touchy today,” you tease, turning to look at his face. It is much easier now to admire his features now that he is sitting so close to you. His eyes are glazed over. “Wait a minute—were you high this whole time?”

He gives you a guilty look.

You aren’t sure if you should be impressed that he was able to teach you so well under the influence, or if you should be disappointed. His affections to you often occurred under one and only one circumstance, and that was when he was ridiculously high. He must’ve smoked more than usual. The thought hits you like a crushing weight, smashing through your heart and sinking down to your stomach in just under five seconds. You want to throw your head into your palms and cringe at how hopeful you were, even though you’re already used to the reality of this godforsaken friendship. But then the sinking feeling falls even deeper into your pit when you realized something might’ve happened to make him reach for his stash like this.

“Did something happen today?” You don’t mean to probe, but even stoner Eddie has his limits for most of the time. Sometimes the overcompensation is a little too obvious, even for your obliviousness.

His head is still lolling on your shoulder, though this time there’s a faraway look in his eyes. There’s a silence that hangs thick for what felt like forever, until you feel his chin shift, trying to find a more comfortable spot to sulk in.

“Don’t tell me it’s girl troubles,” you huff out. The thought of it already has the heat rising to your cheeks. It’s one thing to have an unrequited crush, but to see said crush pining for another person was simply soul-crushing.

He must notice your expression, because he looks at you amusingly. “Why? Would you be jealous?”

When you shoot him a deadly look, he only giggles and reassures you. You’ve heard this speech about a million times already: you’re his best girl-friend and no one can ever beat you. To be honest, it’s hard to be beat when you’re his only girl-friend, but hey, it’s still a win. If he has to constantly remind you, though, maybe you’re being too obvious. You remind yourself to tone it down around him.

Eddie suddenly jumps off the bed with renewed vigor and swipes the guitar from your arms before laying it carefully somewhere in the closet, then plops back down beside you. His face is serious, the playful energy lasting only for a few seconds.

You ease yourself down slowly, lying on your side as you soak in the sight before you. His arms are tucked under his head, ankles crossed at the edge of the bed.

“I only ask because I—”

“ Because you care. I know.”

You give him a minute. There are only the sounds of your breaths mingling with each other, and if you relaxed enough, you swear you’d be able to hear his heartbeat. You’d usually miss the peace you had prior to meeting Eddie, but now, when there is no sound of his annoying voice or music or anything , it makes you nervous. Because a vulnerable Eddie is a sad Eddie. There was no easy way to learn this.

“I heard you went on a date with Harrington,” he starts. His hands fly in the air as he continues. You can’t help but stare at the glint his rings give off in the different angles. “Went to the mall and everything.”

It’s your turn to look amused. When he catches it, he presses a finger to your lips, which only causes you to snicker. “How could you ignore me for some jock. Is that why you didn’t pick up my calls that day?” He has such an intense expression, backed up by the furrowing of his brows now hiding under his bangs. He seems so distressed, although you can’t help but smile at him in silence.

“Is that all you have to say to me?” He’s practically begging for response at this point.

“First of all, Munson,” you emphasize as he winces at the demotion of his name. It was easy to tell when you don’t feel like humoring him. Ever since the beginning, it had always been Eddie . When you had tried calling him anything else, it just didn’t feel right in those moments. And it still doesn’t. “It wasn’t a date. It was a double date!”

His jaw drops as he rubs a hand over his face, having expected you to at least try to comfort him, like you usually would. It was shameful, honestly, the way you would scramble to mend his sorrow every single time. You pause for a second, letting the moment really sink in before continuing again. This is payback , you thought. “It was Nancy, Steve, Robin, and me. It wasn’t really a date, Eddie. I don’t know why you’d even care.”

There’s a slight quiver in your voice when you articulate the last line, but you hope he doesn’t notice. However, it seems like that’s the only thing he noticed.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, missy, but I care a whole lot when my only friend in the whole wide world goes missing when I need her most.” The glazed look in his eyes hasn’t faded, but the seriousness is still there. You almost wish you aren’t still having this conversation because it only breaks your heart further the more he opens his goddamn mouth about friendship this, friendship that. But your love and concern for him overshadows it all, and you want to smack yourself over the head for that.

You take a deep breath, inhaling all the different scents of Eddie (if that was even humanly possible) and ponder your thoughts. You like to do it because It keeps him on his toes, you remember, as if he’s always hanging onto your every word, inching closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.

You allow your eyes to wander across his walls, taking in the various band posters, and then back onto the guitar. It’s so easy to get sidetracked in the confines of anything related to him, but the more you learn about him, the more you realize he’s just a huge dork who plays fantasy games and the guitar in his free time. He does a great job at keeping the air of mystery around him, though, and you wonder if people actually realized who he truly was, maybe they’d bully him a tiny bit less. That is, if they weren’t so scared of being sacrificed by him. He shakes you out of your conscious slumber with a couple snaps of his fingers in front of your face.

“Hey—are you even listening to me?”

His hand continues waving in your face for a few more seconds before you swat it away. You’re looking at him with as much sincerity as you could possibly muster. He’s doing the same, though you notice the way the corners of his mouth tug down, like how they usually do whenever you reject one of his hugs.

“Can I level with you?” you ask.

He looks at you strangely, eyebrows raise in question. There’s some clarity to his eyes now, and you feel yourself getting sucked in temporarily. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps thickly. He nods.

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about your love life and who you choose to date, so why should you? ” The words come out with more venom than you mean to, but you couldn’t—no, wouldn’t , take back what you said. Even though you’re lying, it feels good knowing that he at least doesn’t know you have a massive one-sided crush on him. It gives the illusion that you’re in control, and you’d like to keep it that way.

Eddie’s features soften. He looks so hurt, and you can’t bear to look at him for more than two seconds. The room is silent again, though it’s lacking the comfort that usually comes with it. You slowly sit up, and start grabbing your things. Before you leave, he pulls your wrist back. His eyes are pleading.

“It’s still early,” he begins. “If you want to stay longer.” You look sparingly at his face, mostly darting to his bedsheets or the walls. His grip tightens.

“I—um, I’ve got some overdue homework I need to work on.”

He knows you well enough to know that if there was one person he knew that always had their shit together and done on time, it was you. But he lets go, and your heart stumbles because if he had asked you one more time, you would’ve stayed. You guess some things are just not written in the stars, and tonight was one of those things.

He only purses his lips and exhales, “Alright.”

He doesn’t walk you out the door today.

The next time you see him ends up being the following night. He had called the morning of, asking if you wanted to come over for more “guitar lessons.” When you didn’t reply quickly enough for his liking, he simply said, “See you at eight. Sharp, okay, sweetheart?”

Your heart twinges, so you agree.

Eight sneaks up on you before you know it. The night air engulfs you as you rap your knuckles against the Munsons’ trailer door. It rattles violently, so you stop, fearing that one more would completely knock it off the hinges. You hear a familiar voice ring out, welcoming you in.

When you’re inside, you spot Eddie running around chaotically in the small kitchen. Various snacks are being crushed by his arms clutching them close to his chest, and he nearly slams into a table (not without cursing) while tossing them over onto the couch.

He finally sits down among the mess, accidentally on a bag of chips, and it crunches. He makes a butt-shaped hole with the snacks next to himself, then affectionately pats the area and looks at you.

You scooch around and pop open a bag of gummy bears. “We’re starting the movie early today, huh?”

“You gotta return it tomorrow. We can’t have any more distractions now, can we?” He fiddles with the remote, pressing buttons here and there. There’s only static on the TV. He groans and gives it a good few smacks.

“Wow,” you drawl. “Eddie Munson himself, actually remembering due dates, and not even his responsibility? That’s new.” He turns around to retaliate, but is hit by a gummy bear straight to the face. “Bullseye,” you laugh.

He only sighs and walks towards the kitchen. His hand squeezes your thigh on the way and, with an exasperated voice, says, “Be good ‘til I get back.”

The movie ends without another hitch, and it’s not long after that both of you are back in his bedroom.

“So,” he says as he claps his hands together dramatically. “It’s time for lessons by Mr. Munson himself.” He picks up the acoustic guitar and seats himself down next to you on the bed. “Wanna show me what you’ve learned so far?”

“To be honest, not much. Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Munson,” you shrug, taking over and strumming out a few test chords. He wets his lips absentmindedly.

“Well, you seem to remember the C chord, at least,” he nods. “But—” He cups your fingers and shifts them downward. “You’re a bit too high there, sweetheart.”

The touch burns through your skin and sets your mind, body, and heart aflame. It takes you a second to answer. A second too long, is what Eddie thinks.

“Okay…what about my G?” you ask quietly, not trusting yourself to breathe.

“Your G what? G-string or G chord?”

You blink.

He winks.

And your body is at war. The rope inside you tugs between choosing violence or letting yourself melt in his arms. It’s close to betraying you, until you choose fight-or-flight’s third sibling: freeze.

Eddie cackles as he shakes you awake. You feel your consciousness slam back into your body with full force. Your mind is going insane. What did he mean? Does he want to do something? Does he want me ? You’re about to open your mouth, to say Yes! Yes, Eddie, I want you!

“Bad joke. Sorry.”

You wish the moon would become unlatched from whatever science-y, physics-y thing that’s keeping it in orbit and hurl towards Earth and just crush you to death right then and there. How does one recover from this?

Except you do. He spends the next thirty minutes teaching you an easy song that includes the whopping four chords you’ve learned. It goes as smoothly as you hope, until the heat radiating off of Eddie and wafting onto your back is making you uncomfortably sticky.

When you had left the house earlier, you wore tank top with a denim jacket to cover your arms. It wasn’t your best look, but you weren’t trying to impress anyone (more of a self-persuasion, but who’s really checking?). The decision feels like a huge mistake now, because you are definitely not comfortable enough at the moment to let him see your skin like that.

Each touch, each movement, and each breath of Eddie’s fanning over your neck so deliciously gives you more and more confidence as the night moves on. He’s pressing all the right buttons, as if knowingly, and your barrier begins to crack.

You carry on with full composure, as you always have . He gives you a simple task: play at least halfway into the song perfectly. When you do, he leans in, lips slightly brushing your earlobe, and whispers, “Good girl.”

Your face begins to heat up at a rapid rate. Your body, on the other hand, isn’t sure whether it should tense up or relax. Eddie notices and places his hands on your shoulders, giving you quick squeezes sympathetically. It only makes it worse.

Not sure how you did it, but you were able to get the guitar safely on the bed before jumping off of it entirely.

“Wow,” he exhales and simpers. “I just wanted to see if you had a praise kink or so—”

He’s cut short by your glossy eyes and trembling lips. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out, so he waves his hands uselessly.

“What, so I’m just a joke to you?” Your voice betrays you, as much as you attempt to conceal your vulnerability. It sports a matching look on your face. This is it , you think. You lasted only a couple of months after making your first friend at this stupid school, and thinking about it makes you feel ashamed. Somehow, this feels worse than a real break-up.

“I’m—Hey, look at me, please. I’m so sorry.” He’s scrambling to fix his mistake, hands all over you, and eyes frantically searching you for a hint of forgiveness, even if he knows it’s futile.

“Eddie, I need to go. It’s fi—”

“No!” he cries, causing you to flinch. His grip softens on your shoulders, but is still unwaveringly attached. “It’s not fine.”

Even through the thick material of your jacket, the knowledge that he’s still touching you has you squirming painfully. “God, please , stop touching me.”

Now, Eddie’s heart is breaking into a million pieces, and you know it well. Since the first day you met him, you could tell what his love language was. From the way he’d ruffle your hair affectionately after a campaign win, or how he’d pull you into a bone-smashing hug whenever you brought his favorite snack to school, to simply the way his eyes would twinkle right before giving you a first bump every time you parted ways. In a sense, this was a real break-up to him.

His arm slowly slides off of you, with a pained look on his face. He then stares at you expectantly. When you make a move to the side, he reaches out towards you, though not close enough to touch.

“Please don’t go yet. Just—” He closes his eyes and groans against his palms, and you’re sober enough to know it’s not directed at you. If you hadn't felt so terrible, you’d laugh at the way he was repenting. You stare slack-faced at him, and while it’s not the reaction he was hoping for, he takes it as a second chance. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Like how you don’t know why you said, ‘g-string’ or why you just messed with me all night?” you nearly shouted. It takes a lot of energy to force the sass through your pain, but it shows enough to cause Eddie to shrink within himself. You can’t even feel bad anymore. Maybe this was an overreaction on your part. He’s always been like this, so what is different now? In a way, there is still a part of you that actually does feel bad, but only because you let yourself waste away in your feelings without ever bringing it up to him. There is no way for him to really know how you feel about him without communicating it. Even then, normal friendships aren’t like this. Friends don’t whisper dirty things into each other’s ears. Friends don’t playfully flirt with real sexual tension. So it’s not fair that you have to endure this while he’s the only one having fun.

Eddie, on the other hand, wants to stuff his mouth with his fist. He wants to pull his hair out, he wants to scream into his pillow, but most of all, he wants to hold you and apologize over and over until he’s completely lost his voice. For you, he would grovel as much as you want him to, and to him, that would be nothing if it meant you’d take him back.

His voice cracks when he manages to find the courage to speak again. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable with my behavior.” He looks at you intently, eyes roaming your face, searching— begging .

You look away, and it scares him. He’s never seen you cry like this, and it’s even worse since he’s the reason why. His arms twitch, and he realizes that that was the last time he’ll ever be that close to you again.

After a million years (according to Eddie), you sigh, “That’s not the issue.” There’s a fierceness to you now, surprising the both of you. You jab a finger at his chest viciously. “My issue with you is that you keep taking my feelings lightly.” His brows furrow, and it only pisses you off even more.

“I like you, you asshole!” There was no point of return. All of that was out the window the moment he crossed a line. Instead of feeling scared or sad, like you thought you would, you were instead enraged with an addicting fury. “And you .” You make a point to jab him especially hard for emphasis. “You have the nerve to mess with me all night long—not to mention even whining about how I should spend every waking moment with you when I already do…and you know what the kicker in all of this was? I did wish I was at the mall with you! I did wish I was on a date with you!”

His forehead is creasing, eyes wide, and mouth pursing. When it finally opens, he breathes out an Oh. And he suddenly he knows how to make things right.

In your complete, utter mess of a breakdown, you don’t realize that you had balled your hands tightly into a fist until you let go, and the searing pain from your nails digging into your palms lets up.

Maybe you were okay with destroying this friendship before, you try to convince yourself, but the regret starts pooling into your belly along with nausea. You’re too ashamed to look at him, yet you also don’t have the courage to move from your spot. So once again, the room is just filled with the sounds of labored breathing and bated breath, both standing in a face-off.

And then you will your legs to move, to run far, far away. But Eddie catches you first, and his face is sloppily smashed against yours as he pulls your lips into his own. Certainly, this is bold, the boldest thing he’s ever done, he’d argue. Still, he’s unable to withdraw because once he has you—your scent, your soft skin, and your gasps keeps him wanting more and more.

It only ends when both of you come up for air, foreheads still glued together as you laugh mirthlessly. “This whole time?” you murmured.

You can feel the smug grin on his lips as he attacks the junction of your neck. You melt against him. “Yeah.” He continues down to your shoulder after pulling your jacket off, his mouth never leaving you. “So, was I right?”

“Hmm?” You couldn’t trust yourself to speak anymore. Somehow, Eddie has gotten you back to his bed, and you feel his necklace glide across your chest coldly, sending little shivers along your spine.

“‘Bout you having a praise kink,” he mumbles. He’s taking his time on a particular spot near your collarbone, making sure to really mark you well.

You’re too embarrassed to reply, so you hope he moves on from it. He doesn’t—worse, he stops. He’s holding himself up with his arms, caging you in, and looks at you mischievously. “Sweetheart, I asked you a question. Don’t go shy on me now. ”

You reach up to press a kiss against him, but he easily flicks you back down like a fly. His brow arches, though he’s still grinning arrogantly.

“Fine, yes, yes, yes, I do.”

“That’s my girl.”

You moan into him when he’s back on your mouth, tongues slow dancing. You still feel hot, but it’s different this time around. It’s more freeing—like you’ve let something go, and now you’re finally able to enjoy it.

Eddie is a much better kisser than you imagined. You’ve thought about how he’d taste and how it’d go, oh absolutely, but this is real . You memorize the way his tongue darts around as if mapping out every part of you, mixed in with the faint smell of cigarettes and pure testosterone.

He’s gripping your chest as he makes his way down and massages it to Hell and back. You can’t help but love how primal you’ve got him, which only turns you on even more.

“I’ve wanted to do many…many… many, ” he accents each word with a wet kiss down your arms. “...unholy things to you since I laid my eyes on you.”

You strip off your top and bra, tossing them to the side with urgency. He only chuckles at your brazenness before giving both of your breasts a firm squeeze. You push him onto the bed and straddle him. “C’mon, Eddie, your turn.” He looks at you incredulously, then his stare turns dark after a blink of an eye. His hands run up and down the sides of your waist, leaving little goosebumps in their wake.

“My, my, who knew you were so forward? All of that innocence…just an act.” He reaches out and captures your chin, firmly holding on as he angles your face around. The cold air drifts against your chest, causing your nipples to perk up. You release a shaky breath and close your eyes, suddenly feeling timid. “No, no, open them for me, sweetheart.”

When you do, you feel him twitch under you, provoking you to ground back down on him. Your eyes are half-lidded, hips rolling. A guttural groan expels from his throat, and he grips you to a standstill.

“Get—ugh, take it off already!” you whine, clawing at his t-shirt.

He’s looking at you with so much lust, yet it’s filled with tenderness; his hands rubbing circles into your own only reaffirming that. After a moment of silence (in which Eddie is aggressively admiring your beauty), he licks his lips and speaks.

“I want you to know that if we continue, this won’t be the last time. There will never— ever be ‘going back to being friends’ or ‘acting normal.’ Because to be frank with you, princess, I can’t do that.” His eyes take in your silhouette, wandering slowly and deeply, because he’s so afraid. So afraid that this will be the last time you let him see you again. He wants to memorize as much of you as possible in case it gets taken away. He takes a deep breath. “So, if we do this. I want more of you—not just the sex, but I want to take you out. And… I won’t do this if you don’t want that. I don’t want this to be a one-and-done deal. Got it?”

You’re unsure whether it’s the adrenaline running through your veins or the sexual tension you feel for him snapping, but you run your hands under his shirt and over his bare chest. For whatever reason, his thoughtfulness turns you on even more than you thought you could be. You ache for his touch, and the desire builds into a searing pain. He wants to stop you, but he can’t; you’re too mesmerizing.

“Eddie,” you moan out. He whimpers under your touch, and he bucks up into you. The muscles in his hand flex against your hip, fighting against his vices. Who knew having a pretty girl on top of him would have him become such a mess?

“Sweetheart,” he breathes out. “You’re not helping me here. I need you to tell me you—” He flips you under him, knee wedged conveniently between your legs, pushing barely enough against your core. He’s frustrated in more ways than one. His eyes implore of you, with the addition of his voice being much deeper. He lets you rub against his thigh for a moment before pulling back. He pins your hands above your head and hovers closely over you just enough for you to hear his harsh whisper. “Now, now, you’re not being very good, are you? Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you beg.

“Understand what?”

“Fuck, Eddie, I want you to be mine. My boyfriend, my heart, my soul, and—” You slide your fingers down his body. “Your cock .”

“Shit,” he grins cheekily. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” He moves to unbutton your jeans as his tongue sticks out in concentration. You don’t understand how he could still be so cute during an activity as sinful as this. Once the garment is off your legs, you return the favor, nearly ripping his shirt off his back.

He quickly pulls you back onto his lap. You continue running your hands down his chest as one of his fingers hook into the hem of your underwear, rubbing the skin of your hips with the pads of his fingers. His other hand swipes teasingly down your cunt through the fabric, causing the thick wet line to fully soak your panties immediately upon contact. You rut against him, despising the barrier that is his jeans. You need to feel him now .

“Patience, sweetheart,” he says hoarsely, right before pulling your underwear off completely. “There’s something I wanna try first.” He pulls your hips up to his face roughly, and your hands land on the wall above him for support. You giggle.

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to put on the reigns.” Your heat is right above his mouth; you can feel his hot breath fluttering across, making you drip even more. His soft lips target your core, making sure to run his tongue over your clit from time to time. In the meantime, his hands continue roaming your body, starting from the bend in your knees to your quite indulgent thighs, all the way up to your chest. As you’re stuck in his maze of pleasure, he catches you off guard and pulls on your nipple. You yelp in surprise and arousal, the electricity of it aiding you in the roll of your hips against his face. He smiles against you, easily lapping up any juices that come out.

It causes you to release your most lewd sound of the night so far, and this man is soaking it all up. He loves that he’s the one to make you feel this way and no one else.

“Bet Harrington couldn’t make you moan like that for him.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up, I wouldn’t have even let him.”

“Careful with those eyes, I don’t want them rolling to the back of your head unless you’re bouncing on my cock.” He continues suckling at your clit and your eyes squeeze shut, enjoying the sensation. You’ve played with yourself before, but it was never like this. You could only get so far with just your fingers rubbing idly as your mind sneaks off somewhere else. Just the way his tongue moves around you so languidly has you close to your climax already.

He abruptly palms both your ass cheeks and pushes you deeper down into his face, to the point where you’re terrified you’re going to smother him—but he keeps it there, firm and steady, and darts his tongue in deep .

Now, you’ve seen this man’s tongue countless times before. Whenever pure concentration is necessary, that one time he provoked Jason Carver in the cafeteria, and the many periods of time when he merely wanted to make funny faces at you to cheer you up, like a child. Have you thought about what they’d feel in your mouth and inside of you? Naturally. But what you failed to understand was the sheer strength and length of each thrust. When you look down at him, you expect to see multiple appendages because there is no way he could work on so much of you all at once. Oh, it is so much better than you thought.

The thin sheen of sweat on his skin has his bangs sticking to his forehead. The rest of his hair falls nicely around him, like a halo under your thighs. The tip of his nose is bumping wonderfully against your button, bringing you closer and closer to your release. He’s looking straight at you, cheeks slightly hollowed out from the sucking motion. He squeezes your ass and gives a single slap. Your arms fall from the wall and land on the sheets next to him. Unable to hold back any longer, you start tweaking at your nipples. The sight has Eddie groaning into you, sending heavy vibrations straight to your folds.

“ Fuck , Eddie.” You want to scream, but you’re afraid that the neighbors might hear. You stifle a few more moans to the depths of your soul, until you feel your climax inching towards you. He answers incoherently into your pussy, but you know what he wants. His hands grip you tighter, helping you grind against his face. With one more hard suck around your nub, your orgasm comes crashing down on you. Your center pulses with each high, and you swear you’re seeing stars. You topple over, body limp beside Eddie as he licks his lips. His face is drenched with your cum.

“Was it that good, princess? I didn’t even get to finger you yet.” He waves his fingers humorously in front of your face. He’s leaning on one arm, admiring the work he’s made of you. Your chest is still heaving from the intensity, and you fan yourself.

“God, yes, it was so—I don’t even—have you done this before?”

“Oh, but of course,” he replies without missing a beat. You looked at him in surprise, then at the mess he made out of you. “What, do I seem like a virgin?” Your eyes are half-lidded, and you feel the embrace of sleep coming over you, but you’re able to muster out a yes and a few chortles for good measure.

Eddie had gotten up in the meantime and wiped his face with a towel, then used another to wipe you down. You croak out a “ Thanks” as he places a kiss on your forehead. He’s about to pull his covers over you, but you grab his hand with a frightful ferocity, alarming the poor man before you. He looks at you in question.

You fight the sleep in your eyes, and yank on his belt loop. He falls over you, quickly catching himself with an arm next to your head. He chuckles. “What is it, sweetheart? Haven’t had enough?”

You palm him over the jeans, and he hisses, but keeps steady. It was the most overwhelming orgasm you had ever experienced in your life, and as a result, your body’s energy levels are depleted. You feel guilty, wanting to return the favor, especially since he still has a hard-on, but it was getting more difficult each second that passes by. He notices and moves to the side of the bed.

“Maybe next time,” he says.

“Next time,” you whisper.

And the world fades to black.

#stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #smut #eddie munson

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cyberpunkgyu · 9 months

Text

Confidence Is Key - P.SH

pairing: quiet sunghoon x quiet fem reader!

genre: romance, fluff

warnings: none!

a/n: i have so many drafts, so here is another one :) i don’t know how to feel about this one though, but hope you guys like it!

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

“i have a girlfriend.” is what came out of sunghoon’s mouth as a girl tried to ask for his number.

the thing is, he didn’t have a girlfriend. he is single by choice, but jay would tease him about it. “you got no game bro.” he would say.

sunghoon is very well known in the university, however, he isn’t much of a talker and likes his alone time. he is known as the “quiet one” out of his friend group, which includes jay, jake, and heeseung. don’t get him wrong, he loves his friends, but he also loves how relaxing it is when he’s by himself.

which is why he is currently about to go in the movie theater, by himself, about to watch oppenheimer. he already got himself a bucket of popcorn with a drink of lemonade, ready for some alone time. however as he walked through the hallway of the cinema, a girl, who seemed around his age, approached him, with her friends watching her from behind.

although he told her about him having a girlfriend (sunghoon’s go to excuse), the girl for some reason still won’t leave him alone. she was fluttering her eyes, obvious that she was checking him out.

coincidentally as he glanced behind him, he saw you walk towards his direction, and it looked like you were alone as well, but you haven’t noticed him yet.

“there she is!” he let out an awkward laugh, gulping at what he was about to do. “ynnie!”

you looked up, not expecting someone to call your name, recognizing sunghoon, who is in one of your classes this semester. and did he just call you, ynnie?

you looked at him confused before glancing back at the girl who had a scowl on her face. “come on, the movie is about to start, wouldn’t want to miss it.” as he got closer to you, he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling you in one of the nearest theater rooms, desperate to escape from the girl he encountered.

you followed him without any questions, not having enough time to react due to the sudden interaction. you both sat down in the middle aisle, watching him glance behind him, not even realizing he was still holding onto you.

“finally.” he muttered under his breath, finally being able to relax.

“uh.” you cleared your throat, snapping him out of his head. “shit, i’m sorry.” he finally let go of your wrist, weirdly missing the warmth of his hand.

“sorry about that, i-uh,” he continued, but for some reason unable to form his words. who is he kidding, the person he’s been crushing on is right in front of him!

you shook your head, an indication that it was no big deal. “it’s okay.” you gave him a reassuring smile and was about to glance down at his movie ticket, but he quickly hid it away.

“the movie is about to start.” he quickly said, holding the popcorn on his lap. he didn’t want you to see that he was supposed to be in the other theater room, for oppenheimer. when was he ever going to have the opportunity to be with you? this was his chance.

you looked so pretty. with your pink outfit, for obvious reasons. your hair was tied with a pink ribbon, loving how some of your hair were framing your face. on the other hand, he was wearing a dark outfit, again, because he was going to watch a movie very opposite of barbie.

little did he know, you did saw a glimpse of his ticket, when he was looking away earlier, knowing already. you can’t help but smile to yourself, fiddling with your fingers, feeling a bit shy.

both of you are now immersed in the movie, sunghoon glancing at you every now and then. he loves the reaction you showed as you watched the movie, mumbling softly, your eyebrows doing all sorts of movement, your bottom lip sticking out. you looked so cute that he just wants to squeeze your cheeks! of course he’s not going to do that, not right now at least.

your arm would brush against sunghoon’s every now and then during the movie, both of you blushing like crazy. sunghoon felt his heart beating so fast that it felt like it was going to bust out of his chest!

soon the movie finished, feeling as if time just snapped. why did that felt so quick? he hasn’t even interacted with you like he hoped would happen.

you two walked out of the theater room, surrounded by a crowd, causing the two of you to bump into each other. this made sunghoon wrap his arm across your shoulder, both of you making your way through the crowd, wanting to prevent you from being crushed. it felt natural for him to do that he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

your cheeks felt as if they were on fire. both of you were so close that sunghoon’s sweet scent filled your nose. hopefully he can’t hear how loudly your heart is beating. it felt like it was about to burst! he felt so warm against you, and although it was summer, his warmth made you comfortable.

you both soon found the door outside the cinema, feeling the refreshing cold breeze, in contrast to the warm one earlier before walking in the cinema.

“well, that movie wasn’t so bad.” he said, now facing you, glad that he could still see you a little bit with the horrible lighting from the lamppost.

your eyes sparkled even through the dark night, seeing his cute little fangs as he smiled at you. “yeah, i had a great time with you, even though we didn’t really talk much.” you let out an airy laugh, “maybe we can do that again? and watch the movie you were supposed to watch?”

his eyes widened, lips parting. “huh? how did you know?”

“sorry, i might’ve seen your ticket. you know you didn’t have to stay with me there, sorry if i kept you-” you started, feeling slightly guilty as you thought about it.

“no, no. don’t be sorry. i wanted that. i mean, it was a chance for me to spend time with you.”

your cheeks heated up, feeling absolutely fluttered at the confession. damn, where did he get that confidence. sunghoon actually talking to a girl? jay would be proud.

“well, i’m accepting that offer of yours. you can’t take it back now.” he bit his lip, preventing himself from smiling so widely, waiting for your response.

a smile now painted on your lips, you nodded, “maybe we can go somewhere after too, and get to know each other?”

sunghoon felt his ears turning red, not being able to hide his smile anymore. “i’d love that.” he then pulled his phone out of his pocket before holding it out for you, looking at you admiringly.

you punched in your number, biting your bottom lip as you then typed in your name before handing it back to him.

‘ynnie ♡’

a cute giggle came from sunghoon, his little dimple popping out. you curiously tilted your head as you watched him type something, seeing him glance at you and then back to his phone. he held his phone to show you what he did, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

‘pretty girl ynnie ♡’

both of you all of the sudden got shy with each other, just smiling to one another. “um, see you soon then? i should probably go now.” you fiddled with your fingers, seeing the bus has arrived at the terminal by the cinema.

he glanced to where you were looking at before nodding, “of course. i’ll walk you there.”

the two of you walked to the terminal, your hand slightly brushing against sunghoon’s. you stopped by the door of the bus and faced the cute boy, who was already looking back at you.

“thank you for tonight.” there was a moment of silence before you suddenly felt a boost of confidence. sunghoon looked so soft and you couldn’t help but kiss his cheek without any warning, feeling him freeze at the sudden contact. his lips parted, his smile widening.

you waved at him before quickly hopping in the bus, making your way to the middle, sitting by the window where you see him step back, watching the door of the bus now closing. the boy typed something on his phone and the next thing you know, you hear your phone buzzing.

unknown number: this is sunghoon :) text me when you get home, yeah? stay safe pretty.

you looked back up and nodded at him through the window, waving once again. he waved back, watching the bus driving off.

oh my god. what just happened? you thought to yourself, now pressing your palms onto your cheeks, feeling how warm it is. looking back down at your phone, you start typing.

reply to pretty boy sunghoon: text me once you get home too! :)

sunghoon skip his way through the parking lot, not caring how some people were looking at him weirdly as he passed by. he is happy. he got to talk to his crush! and now he already has a second date?! he felt like he was dreaming, and he can’t wait to see you again. his pretty girl. well, not yet. but soon.

bonus:

“ah! i don’t know what to wear.” sunghoon groaned, his hands resting on top of his head, pacing back and forth in his room, jay who was leaning against sunghoon’s door watches the boy in distress.

“damn. i’ve never seen him like this. he is truly whipped huh?”

“you know he can hear you right?” heeseung shook his head before going back to his game, being in the living room, which is in front of sunghoon’s room.

“i don’t know, pretty sure all he’s thinking about is yn.” jay purposely says your name clearly and loudly, making sunghoon snap out of his thoughts. “yn? did you say yn?”

“oh my god… he’s gone crazy.”

#sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon drabbles #park sunghoon #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios

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superhaught · 2 months

Text

Incurable Cravings

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI)

Word Count: 1800, Part 1/?

Part 2 / Part 3

Regina bullies reader and ends up getting exactly what she wants.

Explicit content below!

You would think that keeping your head down, wearing your headphones and staying out of people’s way would mean that you could go about your day unbothered, but that was not the case today.

You navigated through the crowded hallways at school easily enough but if fucking Jason Weems hadn’t gotten in your way, you wouldn’t have accidentally bumped into Regina. You barely touched her really, but no one, not even her former best friend, could get away with doing anything that could so much as irritate her.

You cursed under your breath as she turned around and gave you her signature death-glare.

“Did you just fucking try to push me? Oh my god! You totally did, didn’t you? Gretchen, you saw that, right?”

Gretchen feigned shock, “I totally saw, Regina, you’re so right.”

Regina raised an eyebrow and brought her hand to her chest as if she had been truly scandalized, “you absolute bitch!” The blonde reached out and knocked your books out of your arms, scattering them to the floor.

You sighed and rolled your eyes out of habit. Regina grabbed your chin hard, “and now you have the audacity to roll your eyes at me? Are you fucking kidding?”

You clenched your jaw and didn’t say anything in response. Regina shook your chin forcefully, “are you going to apologize or what?”

Was it the best choice to make Regina more angry? No, of course not. But you were so sick of the bullshit. She wasn’t always like this. Once upon a time, you would have trusted her with anything. Once, you, Janis, and Regina were the inseparable trio. You weren’t cool, you didn’t have to be. You had each other. None of you judged the others’ interests or outfits or houses. You just loved each other.

Not anymore though.

“I didn’t fucking do anything, Regina.”

“Oh, absolutely the fuck not.” Suddenly, Regina’s grip shifted to the back of your neck and she was shoving you forward. She threw open the janitor’s closet and pushed you inside, making you stumble against the sink. You hit your hip on the ceramic and winced, you’d have a bruise later for sure, but in that moment you knew that would be the least of your worries after Regina planted herself between you and the closet door and shut it behind her.

She didn’t turn on the closet light, so you were trapped in a dark closet with the taller girl with no feasible way of getting out.

“What the hell is your fucking problem, Regina?” You demanded.

“What’s my problem? My problem is that I fucking despise you. I’m sick of seeing your fucking face in my school and yet, it seems like everywhere I go, there you are.”

“Jesus Christ, get over yourself, Regina.”

She put her hands on your chest and shoved you backwards, pushing you against the shelves of cleaning supplies, “how about you get a fucking grip and start treating me with the respect I deserve?”

“Respect? Why the fuck should I respect you?”

Regina scoffed, “because if you don’t, I will make your life a living hell.”

“What the hell happened, Regina? What happened to us?”

“I grew up. You and Janis didn’t. Is that supposed to be my fault? It’s so fucking pathetic that you and her blame me when all I did was learn how to get what I want.”

“You know what I think, Gina?”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” She shoved you again.

“Answer the question.”

“Why do I care what you think?”

“I think you’re a big fucking liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I think that you’re a big. Fucking. Liar. For starters, you don’t despise me. And I think you actually care, a lot. And I think you have no idea how to get what you actually want, and that’s why you’re like this.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Just admit it already.” You were being bold. Maybe too bold. But for some reason, at this moment, you didn’t really care. If you were right, this could change everything. And you were pretty sure that you were right.

Regina never left you alone. All of these years had gone by and Regina never stopped tormenting you. She always put her hands on you every chance that she got. She didn’t continue to bother Janis in that way. But you always faced her wrath.

Regina was stunned into silence at your words.

You lowered your voice to a whisper, “you don’t hate me, do you, Regina?”

She squeezed your upper arms, digging her acrylic nails into your skin, “I… I…”

“Say it,” you leaned in and brought your lips right against her ear, “say that you crave me. Say that you always have.”

The blonde’s breath caught in her throat and she squeezed you harder, drawing blood with the points of her nails, “you’re such a fucking cunt…”

“That’s not a denial, is it?”

“Fuck you…” she whispered.

“No, Regina. I think I’d rather fuck you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? And wouldn't it be the biggest show of respect for me to give you exactly what you want?”

She grabbed your chin again. Your core tightened with terror, but then she yanked you close and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, immediately biting your bottom lip and pressing her tongue into your mouth, claiming you as hers.

Your instincts tell you to melt at her touch and just let her take you, but you knew it would be much more satisfying to get back at her just a little bit.

You matched the intensity of her kiss and fought her for control over it, bringing one hand to her waist and the other up to her neck, giving just the slightest squeeze and pulling away from her, you decided to tease, “there you go, Regina… isn’t that so much better?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me…”

Regina pressed into you again and kissed you even harder than before. The kiss was absolutely intoxicating and made you want to black out from pure bliss but you were determined to make sure that you didn’t take the back seat for even a second during this. You held onto her and pulled her in closer, pressing your chests against each other and burying your fingers into her hair as you kissed feverishly. You began to move your lips along her jawline, making her produce this delicious moan that you’d never forget. Your lips danced along her soft, sensitive skin and sucked at it lightly, teasingly, not to leave marks but to make her think you would. You grabbed her earlobe between your teeth and bit ever so slightly, and then kissed down her jugular.

You felt her begin to grind her hips against you and you giggled happily, “you wanted me so badly, didn’t you?”

She could only respond with a long moan of pleasure. Your own chest filled with warmth as your heart pounded, the blondes’ sounds sending shockwaves through your system and between your legs.

You grind your hips in tandem with her and create that friction you both need, “let me make you feel good, Gina. Let me take care of what you need, babygirl…”

“Fuck… fuck… yes… please… please…” she whined.

“Yeah? You want that?”

“Yes… ohmygod yes, please…”

You kiss Regina again and turn the both of you around, pushing her back against the shelves. You kiss her lips hungrily and then pull away slightly, her sticky lip gloss making a smacking sound when you separate, a string of spit connecting you. You whisper against her lips, “I’ve always wanted you…”

“Shut up…” she gasped, “shut up… just shut up and fuck me…”

“Aw,” you tease, “It’s cute that you think you’re calling the shots right now…”

Regina groaned, “you… fuck-”

“Relax, babygirl… I’m just teasing. You’ll get what you need, I promise.” You let your hands trail down her sides and untuck her shirt from her pants, tracing the pads of your fingers over her hip bones, “I’ve never wanted to deny you what you want, Gina… you want me to touch you?”

“God…” she groaned, “yes… touch me…”

You smile and slowly slide your hand down the front of her pants. She moans and bucks her hips forward. Your fingers graze over her panties and you can feel how wet she is. You simply move the gusset of her underwear to the side and start to rub your middle finger through her folds and she moans deeply, arching her back and leaning against the wall.

“You want this, Regina?”

“Yes… yes…”

You nod and start to circle her clit.

She sighs and grinds against you, “stop being so fucking gentle!”

“What’s wrong, Gina? Impatient?”

Regina groans and you give her what she wants by sliding your middle finger inside. You can tell straight away that she’s already close to finishing, her muscles clench around you and her knees go weak. You support her with your other arm and add your ring finger and start to pump your fingers in and out of her, curling them to hit that spot.

The blonde throws her head back and moans loudly, crying out your name. It’s music to your ears but you say, “shhh, Regina… don’t let everyone hear you cumming on the fingers of the person you’re supposed to hate the most…”

She groans again and lifts her arm up, biting down on her own forearm to silence herself.

“Good girl,” you praise. Regina moans and her eyes roll back. You had no idea you’d be able to make her fall apart so easily. She keeps rolling her hips, fucking herself on your fingers now rather than letting you continue to tease her. You indulge it and press your thumb on her clit and soon enough she’s completely coming undone. Regina’s body shakes erratically and you feel her walls tighten around your fingers as she comes.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuck…” she breathes, “fucking shit…” Regina grabs the front of your shirt and pulls you forward, kissing you deeply and pulling the hair at the nape of your neck.

You kiss her and moan into her mouth. She pulls on your hair and yanks your head back, “I hate you… I hate you so fucking much…”

“No you don’t… you’re confusing two strong emotions, Gina…”

“How the fuck do you know what I feel?”

You try to look into her bright blue eyes but can't see well in the dark closet, but you're certain you heard it in her voice. You lift your hand up to her cheek and caress your thumb over it, confirming your suspicions as you wipe a tear off of her skin.

You sigh, “because I feel it, too.”

Next Chapter

#regina george x reader #regina george fanfic #renee rapp regina george #renee rapp #mdni #18+ content #fanfiction #original writing #mean girls 2024 #regina george lesbian #incurable cravings #regina george

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quibbs126 · 2 years

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I really like Episode 18’s service lady’s design, is there like a reference for her anywhere?

#I doubt it because I don’t think she’s even a named character #but her design looked really nice #I like her jacket over her shirt #that outfit design choice tends to just appeal to me #plus she had a nice looking face #okay maybe I should have just stopped at her outfit there #but regardless her character design was really appealing to me and I want to know if anyone knows where I can find a reference #professor layton #layton mystery detective agency #questions #random stuff

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cinnamonmilf · 15 days

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✧˖°.☪︎.𖥔 ݁✧:･. rapid eye movement (part ii)

summary: you meet ellie in a dream…or was it at a café now?

cw: nothing, just fluff (repost from old account), you can read part 1 here

BEFORE YOU READ!!!:

FUNDRAISER MASTERPOST BOYCOTT TLOU DAILY CLICK

"Excuse me, um, I love you"

I know that's not the way to start a conversation

It had been two days since you had seen Ellie. This time she wasn’t accompanied by the yellowish hue and warm ambience of your R.E.M. state, you had actually seen her.

The girl that was driving you crazy was actually flesh and bones, rather than just a lulling mirage, and she had been kind enough to give you the notebook you’d forgotten at your favorite café.

There was no other way to describe it besides bizarre.

You couldn’t even thank her properly, staring at her for what was probably too long with widened eyes. She even asked a concerned “Are you okay?”. And no, you definitely weren’t.

Did she not know who you were? Did she forget about your strolls and your hugs and your deep talks? Had she ever dreamt of you? Was it even possible that it was all true? Or had you maybe seen her before and your brain took her face and made up an entire person?

How are you supposed to explain to a total stranger you’ve dreamt of her and fallen for her in said dreams?

The hair, the face, the tattoo, all of it was the same. Would she be the same, though? Was she an astrophysics major? Did she like the color green and NASA and also laughed at silly puns?

It was like your brain was nothing but a bunch of questions with no answer. None rational, at least.

But there she was. Right in front of you with that mesmerizing aura of hers that made you feel so drawn to her…regardless of the realm you were in. You weren’t one to ask people out. You’d usually wait for them to ask you or flirt with them until they took a hint. But there was no way you could let her go just like that. You couldn’t really tell her you knew her either, but you could just ask for her phone number, right?

And so you did. She smiled and agreed. In her mind, she was happy about the fact that giving you your notebook back had landed her a possible date with such a pretty girl.

Two days. You hadn’t texted her. You didn’t dare. What if she wasn’t like your Ellie? What if for some fucked up reason you dreamt of someone so special but she turned out to be nothing like that? What if the connection wasn’t there? What if she wasn’t sweet and caring and funny and trustworthy?

But it had been enough. Enough questions and enough overthinking. There was no way for you to know if you didn’t text her.

“Hi, it’s the girl whose notebook you saved :)”

“Hey, didn’t think you’d text anymore”

“Oh no! I’m sorry. I just got a little caught up with school”

“I wanted to see if you’d like to hangout sometime?”

“I’d really like that. Is friday cool?”

“Friday’s great <3”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

“Oh you don’t have to dw”

“No, it’s okay, I want to”

“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking on her own”

You sighed in relief. At least you were done with that part.

Flirty…At least that checks out with your Ellie.

You spent the rest of your week both dreading and anticipating your date on Friday. And, god, were you a mess.

You couldn’t remember ever being so nervous about meeting someone. You spent the next couple days overthinking your outfit choices, how you should do your hair, what you were going to say. More than anything, the thought of this Ellie not being at least a little like your Ellie was nothing short of terrifying. You adored this girl. Her not being real was one thing, but her being real and being the complete opposite was a nightmare.

At 6:36pm your bell rang.

“Coming!” You yelled as you finished putting on your shoe and took one last look in the mirror.

“You got this,” you told yourself. Though the shaking of your hands was slightly contradictory.

You finally opened the door and there she was. She was wearing jeans and an open button-up with the half-up hairdo you liked so much. You can’t help but discreetly pinch yourself just to make sure you weren’t asleep.

“Hi.” You greet her with a smile.

“Hey, you look great.”

“Thank you, you look great too.” She´s smirking now, probably noticing how nervous you were. Well, at least now you knew she was cocky too. “You ready?”

The ride to the restaurant was filled with small talk. You were too nervous to ask her any of the questions you actually needed to ask. You thought to yourself you’d leave them for the restaurant. Having warmed up a little more with each other.

One thing about Ellie, she knew how to treat a girl. She opened the door for you, helped you fasten your seatbelt, let you play your own music on the way there. She was so…well, dreamy.

As you both wait for your food you finally gather the courage to ask. In reality, they were all very basic questions. Not to you, though.

“So, Ellie..”

She hums.

“Are you in college?”

“Yeah, Astrophysics”. Oh, fuck.

“Astrophysics?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” she chuckles, “have always been into all things space.”

You can’t quite believe this is real and not some sort of sick cosmic joke. You try your best to hide your shock. It’s not really a good look for you to audibly gasp every time she says or does something that further proves she’s actually Ellie.

“Oh really? You must be really smart, then.” You tease with a smile.

“Shut up.” She laughs. “Are you in college?”

“Yes, English Literature. Almost done.”

“Really? Suits you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good, of course.”

If this whole thing was bizarre, this moment was just ridiculous. Every other déjà vu was nothing compared to this. It was your Ellie, from the looks down to the way she worded her thoughts.

The rest of your date went great. You learned she indeed was twenty two and liked NASA and comics. She talked the same and she laughed at the same things. She had the same mannerisms: pouts her lips, she fidgets with her hands, smirks a whole lot and oh! such a flirt.

One thing, though - nothing hinted at the fact that she remembered you. You knew most of the things she told you about herself today, not that you minded, but she was actually meeting you for the first time. How could she not remember? Did she even have the same dreams?

You still had many questions, but you were also very relieved. She was Ellie. Your Ellie. Your auburnette with a space obsession and a liking for silly puns. Your funny and sweet friend. Your favorite girl.

She took you back home and walked you to your door. You spin on your heel to face her.

Loose strand of her framing her face, glimmery green eyes staring at you and an eyebrow scar that’s surprisingly attractive on her. Like straight up from your subconscious mind, now right in front of you.

“Can I see you again?” You can tell she’s the nervous one now, not that she lets you see it. You just know her too well.

You smile at her. You thought it was obvious.

“Of course.” You inch closer towards her and press a kiss on her cheek. “Call me, yeah?”

She blushes at this. Trying too hard to contain the huge grin on her lips.

“I will.”

“Goodbye, Ellie.”

The next few days went well. Ellie and you kept texting back and forth, getting to know each other more. You did find out new things about her. About her past, her friendships, her family.

You found yourself constantly checking your phone for her texts. Eagerly waiting for the notification on your screen with her name attached to it. Not that she ever made you wait long, you pretty much had all her attention. You’d smile every time she’d make a dumb joke or she’d call you a sweet name. When you thought you couldn’t love this girl more…

The sun was starting to set. Pink and purple clouds painting the sky. The weather was getting warmer and you didn’t have to carry an obnoxiously big jacket with you anymore. You’d had classes all day, finally ready to unwind and peacefully enjoy your Friday night. Or so you thought.

Your phone starts ringing and it’s none other than the girl who's responsible for your stomach doing somersaults. You quickly drag the phone icon to the right and press the device to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, pretty, Are you busy?”

“Nope, just walking home. Had a bunch of classes all day.”

“Are you doing anything later?”

“Ellie Williams, are you trying to ask me out on a date?” You jokingly gasp and earn a laugh from her end.

“Yes, actually. The sky’s supposed to be like super clear tonight and I know a spot where you can really see all the stars and stuff.”

“I’m in.”

“Yeah? I’ll pick you up in an hour. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great. Bye, Ellie.”

“See you in an hour.”

You scurried to your apartment to get ready. You did your hair, changed your clothes, sprayed a sweet vanilla perfume on your pulsing points and quickly touched up your makeup. An hour and eleven minutes later, your bell rang.

This time she was wearing a hoodie with a light jacket on top, her staple jeans and jacket combo. Her hair was up in a low bun. She was such a sight for sore eyes.

“How do you even know this place?” You ask as you both get out of the car. It was higher than the rest of the city, not quite at the top of the mountains but it still had a rather breath-taking view. Pretty quiet yet comforting. A safe haven just for the two of you, at least for tonight.

“Well…” Ellie scrunches her nose.

“What?”

“Kind of found it by accident once, with my ex.” She nervously scratches the back of her neck.

“Are you serious?” You laugh.

“It was just once!”

“So you bring all your girls here?”

“Just the special ones.”

“Shut up, dork.” You playfully roll your eyes at her and nudge her arm.

You both settle the blanket on the grass. Lying next to each other. Propped heads rested on your respective hands.

“So..ex, huh?”

“Yeah, we broke up a little bit over a year ago.”

“What was her name?”

“Cat.” You hum. “She’s great, we just didn’t really work as a couple.”

“Are you guys still friends?”

“We are on good terms. Talk every now and then. I wouldn’t call it ‘friends’, though.”

“I’m not really supposed to talk about exes until like the fifth date, you know?” She jokes.

“You brought her up!” You laugh.

“Yeah, you are right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Ellie couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Yes, this was your second date but it felt like it wasn’t. She felt as if she had known you her whole life. Something about talking to you and spending time with you felt just right. More than right. You brought a sense of comfort to her. She was in awe of you.

You both rest your heads and look up at the sky. Ellie was right, it was very clear tonight, you couldn’t recall the last time you had seen so many stars.

“Look, you see that one? The one that looks like a W.”

“Wait, where?”

“Right..” she grabs your index finger and points it towards it, “there.”

“Oh I see it!”

“That’s Cassiopeia.” She explains not letting go of your hand, despite you having already spotted the cluster of stars. “It’s the 25th largest constellation in the night sky.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and the first to list it was Ptolomy in the second century…” Ellie went on and on about nebulas and exoplanets. It’s not that you didn’t care, it just so happened that the constellations lined up by her freckles were a whole lot more interesting than the ones drawn in the navy blue sky. “I probably sound like such a nerd right now.” She laughed.

“What? No, not at all. It’s cute how excited you get.” You keep on playing with her hand. Locking and unlocking your fingers, twisting them against each other’s, featherly brushes against her knuckles and the soft scraping of your nails against her skin.

“Is it?” She could feel her heart speed up, so much so that it felt like it was trying to break her ribs and find its way to you. You were no better.

“Mhm, you are very smart. I love hearing you talk.”

She smirked. Of course she did. No matter how nervous or excited she was, she wasn’t Ellie without that tinge of cockiness never leaving her side.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You breathed out.

She hovered over you, grabbing your chin to pull you closer to her. She brushed her lips against yours, almost kissing you. Breaths perfectly sync as you feel the air fanning against each other’s mouth. There was no way in hell you could wait one more second, you break first. You crashed your lips into hers.

You had never kissed Ellie, not even in your dreams. You had thought about it many times, but even your imagination’s best efforts couldn’t compare to this.

It was exhilarating, the feeling of her lips rhythmically moving with yours. It just made sense, you two fit. You had kissed people before, but nothing like this. You two were made for each other, and if the otherworldly experience of how you first met didn’t make it painfully obvious, this did.

You moaned into the kiss which she took as an opportunity to explore your mouth with her tongue. Cupping your face to bring you closer, as if you were going anywhere.

She finally breaks the kiss.

“Fuck…”

You giggle, “I know.”

Crazy to be so infatuated by someone on your second date. But the truth is that’s how Ellie felt and she couldn’t explain the how. You, on the other hand, had an idea or two.

After your second date the two of you only got closer. You were on cloud nine. You two could talk for hours, hangout for hours, laugh for hours, kiss for hours. You had come to terms with the fact that you would never know how it is that you met Ellie first or why she couldn’t remember your slumber induced escapades.

It didn’t make it any less strange, but you were long past the freaking out stage. If anything, you had gotten to know Ellie better and even experienced things you never got the chance to back there. You were meant to find each other. That was the best you could come up with and it was fine with you.

You decided to plan a date for you and Ellie. She was usually the one that did, being the creative one out of the two of you. But you wanted to do something nice for her.

You settled on a picnic. The past few days had been sunny and warm enough for it. You hauled to the kitchen and prepared everything you needed. The snacks, the drinks, the plates and the cutlery, checkered blanket and all. You even got her flowers earlier that morning.

As your girl rang your bell one more time to pick you up, you grabbed the basket and the flowers and opened the door.

“Hey, beautiful.” She said as she pulled you in for a kiss. You hum into the kiss.

“These are for you,” you tell her as you hand her the bouquet.

“Are you serious?” She asks with a grin on her face.

“Of course, I’m serious.”

“God, you are” kiss “so fucking” kiss “cute” kiss

You giggle into her kisses. “I take it you like them?”

“I love them. You are the first girl to give me flowers, you know?”

“I am?” You ask incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“All the other girls were stupid, then.” She laughs.

She drives to your destination. A pretty forest you had found upon a quick internet search for a good picnic spot. The pictures didn’t lie, the place was beautiful. Green foliage and perfectly cut grass with the perfect amount of sun and shade. You set up the whole thing, enjoying the evening with Ellie.

Ellie was convinced she could stare at you for hours. From how you move your hands when you talk, to how you tilt your head back slightly when you laugh, to how you pout your lips and twist them to the side when you are thinking, you drive her mad.

And maybe it’s the way the sun is hitting your back, making a halo form around your silhouette. Maybe it’s the way the green compliments your skin so beautifully, so familiarly. Maybe the way the warmth of the day and yours mix together and embrace her, making her vision slightly hazy. Maybe the way the sound of the breeze hits the leaves and the sound of the birds chirping mixes with your voice and creates a song she’s sure she’s heard before. But Ellie has lived this before. She has seen you like this before.

She almost gets whiplash from it, all of it coming back to her at once. The day at the cafè wasn’t the first time you two met, and she remembered now.

a/n: second repost while i work on part 3 :)

taglist @s4pphicslutt @fleshunger @whore4abby @astroph1les @eelliesbtch

#works 𝜗ϱ #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie fluff #ellie williams fanfic #wlw post #wlw #tlou #the last of us #lesbian #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n

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thecharacterchronicler · 2 months

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Like An Evening Sky || Ominis Gaunt x Reader (You) (+18)

Outline: You ask Ominis to be your date for the ball and he feels sorry that he can’t see how beautiful you are... So you help him get a much more detailed and intimate idea of what you look like.

Tropes: friends to lovers, smut.

Word Count: 2’624

Warnings: explicit smut.

For the past few months, all you heard about was that the Yule Ball was coming up. Students were excitedly - and constantly - chatting about it, planning their outfits or gossiping about who will be accompanying who, it pretty much was the event of the year for those who were old enough to attend.

You had been thinking about it too, of course, but more cautiously than the others. You usually dodged the persistent questions of your friends, asking who you were hoping would ask you or why you had refused to go with Leander, which might have been your only chance of having a date.

Now a few days before the event, you still weren’t sure if you’d bother attending, even though you had promised Natsai that you’d at least dress up and go to enjoy the buffet with her.

The library was quiet, with the faint sounds of whispers and pages being turned around you, you thought that you would have felt at peace, sheltered from the buzzing energy of other students preparing for the dance, but you found yourself mulling over it way more than you wanted. The main cause of your growing frustration happened to be sitting right across from you, focused on reading an ancient book with the help of his wand.

Ominis probably was the only last year student who didn’t mention the Yule Ball coming up once. Or if he did, he never talked about it with you. Which made it even more annoying than his apparent lack of interest in it. Ominis was supposed to be your friend, your best friend even, and yet you had no idea if he was planning to go and who he had asked on a date. And to make the matter worse, he didn’t seem to care about who you were planning to go with either.

“Ominis ?” You whispered, finally gathering the courage to satisfy your curiosity, even if it meant potentially feeling very upset because of his answers.

“Yes ?” His wand stopped following the sentences in his book and his pale eyes lifted to look in your direction, showing you that you had his full attention.

“Are you going to the ball ?” You asked, nervously doodling with your quill at the top of the parchment you were writing on.

“I… No, I don’t think so. Are you ?” He replied, his voice hesitant, making you wonder if he was hiding soemething from you or if he really hadn’t given the ball a single thought until today.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, faking a detached tone. “But if you want to go, maybe we could go together ?”

You saw his eyes widen in surprise, a faint pink blush bringing color to his usually pale face.

“Uh, I guess we can… If you want.” He agreed and you let out a relieved sigh that you were sure he unmistakably noticed.

“Very well.” You said, loudly gathering your things and standing up from your seat. “Ill see you later.”

And with that, you rushed out of the library, hiding your silly smile behind your books and leaving him to study by himself, still a bit confused by your attitude.

●○●○●○●○●○●

You spent the evening before the ball in your dorm with Natsai, nervously getting ready, trying on the dress she had convinced you to buy during your last shopping trip to Hogsmead and getting your hair up in a sophisticated updo.

Natsai didn’t pester you about your date as much as you had expected her to. When you had told her and Garreth that you had asked Ominis, neither of them seemed surprised by your choice, only by the fact that neither of you had asked each other before. Was it so obvious to everyone that you had a crush on your best friend ? And did they think he liked you back ? Because frankly, even though he had agreed to accompany you tonight, you still weren’t sure if he was doing it for the sake of your friendship or because he was hoping for something more.

You walked to the temporary ballroom with your classmates, already hearing the music seeping through the closed doors and the laughters of students resonating against the walls. Up in the stairs, you spotted a group of first years, peeking from behind the railing with curious eyes. You smiled to yourself, remembering when you were their age, dreaming about attending this event too.

“I guess we’ll see you inside.” Natsai said, bringing your attention back to your trio. You followed her gaze to the opposite hallway, immediately noticing the handsome man standing there, in a immaculate white suit. You heart leaped in your chest. Ominis really was here and he was waiting for you.

Garreth and Natsai left you, arm in arm, as they entered the party. You took a deep breath and joined Ominis, as happy to see him as it was making you nervous.

“Good evening.” You greeted, once standing in front of him. “That suit looks very nice on you.”

He gave you a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, a twinge of sadness passing on his face.

“And I’m sure you look beautiful too tonight… Not that you don’t look nice on other days, I’m sure you do… What I’m saying is that you must have put in some big efforts to look even better and err… Forget it.”

You laughed, finding it cute how flustered he got with his attempt to compliment you. It was pretty unusual to see him lack self confidence and not express himself in perfect, almost diplomatic sentences. You thanked him anyway and looped your arm with his, guiding him to the ballroom.

You stood in awe at the entrance for a moment, amazed by how beautiful it looked inside. The room had been decorated in a winter theme, the snow falling from the enchanted sky above and the flickering of all the candles around making it look like you had stepped into a fairytale. You turned to Ominis, wondering if he was impressed too but the lack of reaction on his face reminded you that he couldn’t see how breathtaking it all was.

Students were dancing, others were excitedly chatting in groups and a few others were hanging by the buffet of sweets and various options of beverages. You found some of your classmates, talked and laughed together and shared a few dances with Ominis, who seemed to enjoy himself. Mostly.

But after two hours at the ball, alternating between dancing and filling your mouth with candies you never tried before, your date’s behavior changed, becoming a bit more distant and less talktative.

“Are you feeling unwell ?” You asked him, worried by how distraught he suddenly seemed.

“No… Yes.” He admitted, reluctantly. “All those people around, the music, the chatter… It’s a bit much for me too keep up with.”

“Oh, of course.” You nodded, only now understanding that he must feel overwhelmed by it all, his senses so much more sensitive than yours to compensate for his lost vision. He probably knew he’d end up feeling this way if he attended the ball, which explained why he had been trying to avoid it but he had agreed to go with you because he was a good friend and you felt awfully guilty about it now. “Let’s go outside.”

With your arm looped with his again, you guided him out of the ballroom and into the quiet gardens of the castle. The stars were brightly shining in the night sky and although the air was a bit chilly, it felt nice to escape the warmth and humidity of the party for a while.

You walked to an alcove, where you both sat on a stone bench, sheltered by the cold winter breeze and far away enough from the doors to only hear faint music reaching your ears.

“That’s much better, thank you.” Ominis said, looking indeed relived but sadness remained in his expression. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to ruin your night. It’s alright if you’d rather go back inside and dance with someone else while I take a break here.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re not ruining anything and I’d much rather stay with you, I don’t care that much about dancing or partying anyway.”

“You don’t ?” He asked, confused again. “Why did you ask me to attend with you then ?”

“Because it sounded nice to spend some more time with you.” You replied, honestly. It had been a while you hadn’t been just the two of you together , maybe because he had been avoiding talks about the Yule Ball and therefor avoiding you and your friends as well.

“With me ?” He repeated, as if he couldn’t quite believe you. “Why would you want to have me as a date ? I’m not exactly a social butterfly and I can’t appreciate how lovely you must look tonight. I heard Leander and Garreth whispering about you earlier, they said you were the most beautiful girl in there but me ? I have no idea what you look like, not tonight, not at all.”

“I’m sorry Ominis, I didn’t know it mattered to you.”

“It doesn’t, not really. I think you’re amazing because of who you are, not what you look like… I just think it’s a shame you look so beautiful and I don’t get to enjoy it like the others do. Especially tonight, you probably have a nice hairdo and you must be wearing a gorgeous dress but it’s all the same to me.”

“Very well then.” You stood up and placed yourself in front of him, reaching for his hand and bringing it to your waist.

“What… What are you up to ?” He asked, barely daring to touch you, even with your permission.

“I want to show you what I look like, in a way that works for you.” You explained, gently moving his hand to the front of your dress so that he could feel the pearls sewn on the fabric underneath his fingers.

He seemed to understand what you were expecting of him and soon, his curiosity took over his cautionary nature. He followed the pearls from your hips up to your stomach, really feeling the different textures he touched.

“Your dress is soft.” He stated, moving upwards until he reached the opening of the low neckline. He tentatively stroked your bare skin there with two fingers, a satisfied smile appearing on his lips as he did. “But it isn’t as soft as your skin.”

“It’s… A dark blue dress.” You told him, wondering if he even knew what this color looked like. Maybe it didn’t matter, but you felt compelled to say something, anything, just to encourage him to keep going.

“Like an evening sky.”

You took a step closer, standing between his legs and his other hand joined his exploration of your body. He traced the outline of your silhouette, going from your hips all the way up your sides and softly grazing your cleveage. Your breath caught in your throat at the more intimate touches which caused him to stop them.

“No, keep going. Please.” You whispered, your voice guiding his eyes to yours. With his face lifted up to you, as you stood over him, you could easily reach for his blond hair and push back the stray piece falling on his forehead.

He listened, his hands resuming their wandering up your body, caressing your chest before heading downwards, back to your hips, and then to your thighs, noticing and taking in all the curves and lines of your body.

In the darkness of this starry winter night, with nothing but the light of the moon to illuminate his white form, you dared do the one thing he never found the courage to do himself and leaned over to plant a kiss on his lips.

The kiss was just as soft and gentle as his touch once his surprise faded and he pulled you even closer. You heard him whisper your name as you both came up for air, so you kissed him once more to show him that you were still there with him.

That second kiss seemed to ingnite a forgotten passion inside him, his lips pressing harder on yours as he pulled you once more, but with much more strength than before. You landed on his lap and you felt his arms around your waist securing you on top of him.

It was your turn to whisper his name, as his hand grew a lot more confident in the way it roamed over your body. After a few more feverish kisses, he pulled the fabric of your dress up your legs. You shivered at the feeling of the cold night air on your previously covered skin but the way his fingers now danced over your bare skin instantly warmed you up.

“Are we all alone ?” Ominis asked, between two breathless kisses.

You looked around, checking your surroundings as well as you could from your seat on his lap, under the alcove you had find refuge in.

“I think so… Why ?” The question had escaped your lips before you even realized it, causing an amused smile to appear on Ominis’s face.

“Because if I manage to get some satisfied sounds out of you, I want to be the only one to hear them.” He said, his good manners and cautious vocabulary long gone. His answer sent a wave of intense heat through your body, burning your cheeks.

He moved his hand under your dress, reaching for your underwear and interrupting his caress just shy of the hem. “May I ?”

“Please.” You begged, spreading your legs slightly further apart to grant him better access to your center.

He kissed you at the same time that his fingers moved inside your panties, exploring the most intimate part of your body with eagerness. He slipped between your folds, easily finding your clit and gently rubbing it between his fingers, making you exhale in shocked pleasure. You closed your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against him as he kept playing with you, your need for relief slowly but surely increasing with each of his movements.

You were pretty sure that it couldn’t get any better than that, with his palm adding pressure to your entrance while his fingers were expertly torturing your clit but he proved you wrong as soon as he pushed one of his elegant fingers inside of you.

You closed your eyes, surprised by the intensity you felt in the pit of your stomach as he reverently moved it back and forth inside you. You were getting used to the sensation, and your body was too judging by how it was becoming increasingly easier for his finger to glide in and out of your body.

Then, he added a finger to the one already there and your body shook with pleasure. You moaned quietly against him, which seemed to encourage him to thrust his fingers into you even deeper, with rapid movements you could barely keep track of.

“Ominis.” You whimpered, against his neck, feeling his grip on you tighten to hold you in place on top of him. A few more seconds and the dam inside you broke, flooding your whole body in numb pleasure. You put a hand on top of where his still was, to stop the motions that you couldn’t take anymore and he understood, putting your panties as they were and gently kissing your forehead as you still tried to catch your breath.

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