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freedomfireflies · 2 months

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Insufferable You*

Summary: The third part to Infinite You*

The one where Harry is still in an open relationship with your best friend, so maybe it's time to remind him what he's missing.

Word Count: 7.3k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, edging, spanking, brief exhibitionism, sir kink, masturbation, brief choking

“Kitten…what are you doing?”

Your whimpers are airy. Light. A string of breathless pleas woven between the soft sounds of your fingers fucking into your cunt. And you can’t answer his question. Can’t find the strength to pull yourself away from the pleasure between your thighs.

“Kitten,” he asks again and it’s firm. “Talk to me.”

He’s panting through his request and the sound—the image in your head of the way he must look, fucking his fist to the melody of your voice almost hurts you.

“I’m…I’m playing with my clit,” you answer. He groans. “Just like you do.”

“Just like me, hm?” He curses on his end of the phone and your legs shake. “How?”

“M’pinching it,” you tell him. “And pulling it. The way you like.”

His noises are louder. Needier. He must like the image in his head, too. “God, I’d give anything to see it, baby. Give fucking anything to watch you touch yourself for me.”

Anything. Anything. You shiver. “Yeah? You’d watch me?”

“Mhm.” He’s getting closer and you don’t want this to end. “Sit there on my knees and take every drop in my mouth when you’re done.”

Your hips buck up and your fingers sink deeper. He ruins you even when he’s not here. “I know,” you whisper. Your eyes squeeze shut. “And I’d let you.”

He makes a sound that might be a laugh but could be a strained moan. You aren’t sure. But you don’t really care because it’s beautiful, no matter what it is. “Kitten,” he exhales and your insides twist. “I need you to cum for me, okay? I need to hear you. God, I need to fucking hear you, baby, let me. Come on—”

There’s something in the way he speaks. Like he’s just woken up. Rough and low and thick. He sounds like sex and you miss hearing it in person. But you were desperate—you had to call him. You had to hear him talk you through this moment and you’re so glad you did.

When you cum, it’s everything. Perhaps not as satisfying as when it’s with him, but still euphoric. And your whimpers of pleasure are what send him over the edge.

The phone fills with the sounds of your ecstasy and you wish you could record the way he moans your name. You wish you could bottle this feeling and get drunk on the way he adores you.

Instead, you indulge in the few moments you have with him. Because you know they won’t last much longer.

“That was good,” you tell him breathlessly and he chuckles. “How are you so good at that? Even over the phone?”

“Could ask you the same thing. Now I’ve got a sticky hand and nobody to clean it up.”

You pout. “Stop, don’t tell me that. It’s not fair.”

He laughs again. “Sorry, Kitten. Couldn’t help it. You all right? You feel better?”

“I do. Thank you for letting me call you.”

“Always.”

Your heart skips. “So…what are you up to today?”

There’s a pause. A long pause and you know what he’s going to say even before he says it. “Rebecca and I are running some errands.”

“Oh.” Oh. Your throat goes dry. “Right…sorry, I’m…you probably need to go, don’t you?”

Another pause. “In a bit,” he says. “After I make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you say far too quickly. And far too obviously forced. “Yeah, no, I’m…duh. Obviously I’m okay now. After…yeah. Okay, sorry. You can…I’ll talk to you later—"

“Kitten.”

You stop. “What? I’m…I’m letting you go—”

“Don’t. I want to talk to you a little longer.”

“But you’re busy—”

“It can wait.”

Swallowing, you whisper, “Harry, I’m…I’m just saying—”

“So am I.” He’s firm again. “Don’t do that. Don’t send me away because of her. We can talk. I promise.”

Your eyes squeeze shut. You force the tears back. Why does orgasming make you so emotional? “I know, I just…she’s there, isn’t she?”

Another beat. “Not in the room.”

“But she’s there. In the apartment. Near you.”

“Yes.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “See, that’s…that’s why I’m letting you go. So you can be with her. Okay? I’ll talk to you later—”

“Kitten.”

“Harry.” You huff if only to make yourself sound stronger than you feel. “I’m okay. You can go.”

“You’re not okay. You’re sad.”

“I’m…no, I’m not sad, I’m just…I’m tired. I came really hard.”

“I know you.”

“Well…you don’t know me that well. Cause I’m fine.”

“Baby—”

“Just go,” you insist. “I promise I’m okay as long as you are. I shouldn’t have called so early anyway, that was…I’m sorry. That was my mistake—”

“You can call when she’s here, you know that—”

“But I don’t want to.”

Another long pause that feels like an eternity. “Okay,” he finally murmurs and you pull the phone away to take in a shaky breath. “But I want your honesty. Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Are you really okay?”

Truthfully, you don’t know. “Yeah, I’m fine. Swear. Thanks for helping me. I’ll talk to you later?”

“You will,” he agrees. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Rebecca’s dinner.”

Fuck. You forgot. “Oh…right—”

“You’ll be there. Right?”

It doesn’t really feel like you have a choice. “I…I don’t know yet, I might be busy—”

“You’re not.”

“You don’t know that. I could have plans.”

“You do. With us.”

Us. Your nose scrunches. “I mean other plans—”

“You don’t.”

“I might—”

“You don’t. If you did, I’d know.”

“Well, that’s presumptuous.”

“Maybe, but it’s true. Because you talk to me. When I ask you a question, you answer honestly. You’re a good girl. I know you.”

Your chest feels tight again. “Well, I don’t tell you everything.”

“You should.”

“You don’t tell me.”

“Because you don’t ask.”

He’s right. You never ask him anything personal because honestly, you’re afraid of what he’ll say.

“Fine,” you agree. “I’ll be there. Are we done?”

He waits a moment before saying, “We’re not done. We’ll discuss this later. But for right now, yes.”

And even if he sounds a bit strict, you can’t help smiling. “Yes, Sir.”

“Mm. That’s my girl. Take it easy today, all right?”

“I will.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, Kitten.”

“Goodbye, Sir.”

He chuckles and you hang up and even despite everything else…you can’t help but grin.

“Oh, my god. He does. Every time. He’s got such a weird thing with feet.”

You laugh. “It wasn’t so bad at first. But then he got a little too comfortable—”

“No, he does that. He really does.” Rebecca smirks as she throws the freshly chopped carrots into her pot. “And it started out cute, but now…”

You both glance into the living room where Harry is relaxing on the sofa. He’s smiling as he watches the two of you work on the food and even if he can’t hear you, he must know you’re talking about him.

“It’s still cute,” you argue in his defense. “Gross…but cute.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I guess he can be cute when he wants to be.”

You grin together and this feels good. You’ve missed your friend. You’ve missed having someone to laugh with, gossip with. And maybe it was strange at first, to come into their apartment and talk to your best friend about sleeping with her boyfriend.

But after a minute or two, you settled right back into the familiar rhythm of your friendship. And it almost felt…normal.

“Has he done the thing where his left leg starts to shake when he gets overstimulated?” she asks and you nearly snort.

“Oh, my god. Yes. The other day. I thought he was having a heart attack.”

“It’s the funniest thing. It just started, too. Couple years ago. He swears it doesn’t but like…I can see it.”

“It’s quite the tell,” you agree and you can’t help the way your eyes drift back to where he’s lounging on the sofa.

He notices and smirks at you.

“What?” you call.

He shrugs. “Nothing. You girls are cute, that’s all.”

“Bite me,” Rebecca says and he chuckles. “We’re not cute. We’re hot.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees. He leans forward. “Let me guess. You’re telling her about the leg thing?”

“Yup. And I was right,” she says smugly. “She sees it, too.”

His eyes roll but he smiles at you. “It’s not that bad—”

“No, it is,” she argues. “You look like a dog. A very cute dog, but still.”

He laughs a little louder and you’re almost jealous of their dynamic. A dynamic you’ve been witness to for almost five years. And it’s never made you jealous before.

But now…

She puts the soup on simmer and grabs your hand to lead you to the living room. “I told you we were gonna gossip about you,” she reminds him. “All good things, don’t worry.”

“I’m sure.” He smiles at you both as you take a seat on the sofa. She flops down right beside him while you cautiously sit on the other end. Exactly where you’d been that first day you agreed to this arrangement. “This is nice,” he says.

She hums. “Yeah, it feels like old times.” She glances toward you. “And it’s not weird…is it? I mean, you feel okay?”

Feeling a little hot under the spotlight, you swallow and force a quick shake of your head. “No, this is…it’s good. This is fun.”

However, she knows you better than anyone and her brows pull together as she studies you. “Do you have any questions? Or anything we can clear up?”

“Uh…I don’t know.” Truthfully, you don’t want to ask. “Is it…is it weird for you guys?”

They both shake their heads, almost as if in sync, and you resist the urge to scrunch your nose.

“Do you…have any regrets?”

“No,” she says and Harry agrees. “None. Do you?”

“No,” you echo. “No, I just…I don’t know. This still kind of feels like cheating.”

They exchange a glance and your heart skips. You’re even jealous of the way they look at each other.

“Rebecca and I have always agreed that whatever the other decides to do is their business,” Harry says. “As long as we communicate, there's freedom there. No judgment, no expectations, no regret.”

“And no jealousy,” she adds, offering you a soft smile. “Or shame. Or anything like that.”

You nod and pick at a loose string on your jeans. “And are you two…I mean do you still…”

“No,” she assures you and you’re thankful she figured out what you meant. “No, we haven’t in a few weeks.”

“Oh…because of me?”

She shakes her head while Harry says, “Not entirely. Most of it is for safety reasons. Keeping things clean and respectful. But it’s also one of our rules.”

“Rules?”

“We have a few rules we like to follow,” she explains. “It just makes it easier. Sometimes it can be tricky and this helps keep us on the same page.”

“And no sex is one of them?”

“Kind of. We don’t sleep together if one of us is seeing someone else. Well, no penetration, anyway.”

You hate the way your stomach sinks. “Oh. And…do you date other people…a lot?”

He looks over at her and she thinks. “Not…really?” she says. “I don’t think, anyway.”

“Jack was the last guy you were with, right?” Harry asks and she snaps her fingers.

“Jack. Right. Yeah. He was cute. And then yours was…Angie? I think?”

He nods. “Last year.”

“She was nice.”

“She was…sure. Yeah. She was nice.”

Rebecca laughs and he grins proudly, happy to have made her laugh. Your nose scrunches.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Rebecca argues. “She was just put in a weird position.”

“Literally and figuratively.”

She smacks his arm playfully and he pinches her thigh. You want to look away.

“Either way,” she finally says, “we don’t very often. And I don’t think of it as cheating. Especially not with you. Because I know he’s a good partner and I know that you deserve someone as kind as he is.”

He gives her a grateful grin before returning his attention to you. “We can stop if you want. Because I agree with Bex. I wouldn’t want to lose you as my friend and if you feel pressured or unsure—”

“I don’t,” you nearly rush to argue. “No, I don’t, I…I’m just really struggling with the dynamics of it. I guess.”

“Trust me, I get it,” she says gently. “It was a bit of a learning curve for us, too. Harry can get incredibly jealous.”

You’re tempted to tell her that you already know but you watch his reaction instead.

His eyes roll but then his stare returns to you and he winks, as though he’s recalling the same memory you are.

It makes your skin feel warm.

“Oop, hold on. I gotta check the soup,” Rebecca suddenly exclaims before jumping off the sofa to rush back to the kitchen.

And now left alone together, your attention is drawn back to the tall, handsome man you can already feel staring at you.

“Any more questions?” he asks softly. He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees and somehow, even that makes you feel safer.

“Just one,” you murmur and he nods. “Does this mean you and I are…dating? Or are we just fucking until I can find somebody else?”

There’s a slight edge in your voice that you hadn’t meant to be there, but he picks up on it instantly.

“Are you looking for somebody else?” he asks.

“Not really. But this whole thing started because you both felt bad for me,” you remind him. “And it’s been a lot of fun. Honestly. But you are kind of on loan. I just…I’m not sure what this makes our situation. If we’re just fucking…or more.”

He takes a moment to think about his answer, eyes flicking between yours almost as though studying you. “Would you like there to be more?”

You bite back huff. He’s very good at redirecting. “I don’t know. Would you?”

“I think more can get complicated.”

Your feel your expression fall. “Right.”

“And I don’t want to lose you from my life for good,” he continues. “You know that. Neither of us want to lose you—”

“Right, yeah. It’s fine. Forget I asked.”

He’s frowning now. “Kitten, don’t do that—”

“No, really,” you argue. “It’s fine. You’re right. Let’s just keep it like this until I can find somebody else.”

The frown turns into a glare. “Kitten—”

“Okay, soup is almost done,” Rebecca announces as she returns. This time she sits next to you and throws an arm around your shoulder. “What did I miss?”

The tension is palpable. You speak first. “I was just telling Harry that I might not need his services much longer.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows raise while Harry’s scowl deepens.

“Oh?” she asks.

You nod. “Well, seeing as we don’t want to do anything to ruin the friendship…I thought I’d give Ethan a call.”

It’s mean and perhaps a bit cruel, but you can’t help yourself. You aren’t trying to hurt him. Because he is right. And don’t want to lose him for good, either, and all this evening has truly done is prove how close he and Rebecca actually are.

You’ll never be able to compete with five years of love and affection. And maybe you don’t want to.

Maybe it’s time to move on.

“Ethan?” Harry repeats while Rebecca perks up.

“Yes,” she squeals excitedly. “Oh, I was hoping you would. He’s so nice, I think you guys would be perfect together.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a pointed look at Harry. “I think so, too.”

He knows what you’re doing. You can tell. And he’s oddly calm as he leans against the cushions and tosses his arms over the back of the couch. “And who the fuck is this Ethan?”

“Guy from my work,” you answer, equally as calm. “Nice. He’s been asking me out for a while.”

“A while.”

“Yeah, a while.”

His brows furrow. “So why do you want to go out with him now?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “He was never really my type before but we’ve gotten closer recently. I think it’s only fair I give him a real chance.”

“Really?” He’s curious. Maybe skeptical. “Now?”

You nod. “That way the three of us can preserve our friendship. Since that is the most important thing.”

“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Rebecca tells you and hugs you to her side. “You’ll have to let us know how it goes.”

You grin and it’s all teeth. “I will.”

Dinner is nice. Tense but nice. You and Harry spend a majority of the meal exchanging icy glances and keeping to yourselves, leaving Rebecca to do most of the conversing.

And she doesn’t seem to notice. That or she merely pretends not to. She catches you up on some drama at work. Teases Harry about his sleep talking. Says she’s planning to visit her parents in a few weeks and then gives you the recipe for the soup.

And you and Harry nod politely, despite the unspoken rage from your ends of the table.

When dinner is finished, Harry offers to clean up and do the dishes. She kisses him on the cheek gratefully and says she’s gonna go take a quick shower since she’s got an early day tomorrow. She tells you that you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like and then she hugs you tightly and whispers, “I’m so glad we’re still friends.”

You hug her back and agree.

The moment she’s gone, Harry sets down his sponge and turns to you. “Come here.”

You hesitate by the front door, itching to escape. But he’s firm as he watches you from the sink, eyebrow raised and jaw clenched, leaving you no choice but to listen.

“Kitten,” he repeats. Lower. Sterner. “Come. Here.”

You take a tentative step toward him. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“Kitten.”

You huff and throw your purse back down. “I really don’t think we need to—”

“I don’t care what you think. I’m telling you that we’re gonna have a chat and you’re gonna come in here like a good fucking girl and talk to me.”

This is how he gets you. This is how he pulls your strings and turns you around until you obediently join him in the kitchen. Like a good fucking girl.

Satisfied, he leans back against the counter. “Now. What’s this Ethan shit you pulled?”

“It’s not shit, it’s real,” you huff. “He really did ask me out and I really am going to say yes.”

“But you haven’t yet.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I told you. He wasn’t my type—”

“No, I want the real answer.”

You frown. “That is the real answer—”

“No,” he repeats. “It’s not. And you know it.”

You cross your arms and look down at your shoes. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. He wasn’t my type but now he is.”

The argument lulls and the small kitchen falls silent. You hear him sigh and it almost hurts to hear how heavy his disappointment hangs.

But a moment later, he’s slipping his fingers beneath your chin and raising your eyes to his. They’re soft. Serene. Filled with everything he can’t seem to find the words to say and you hate how quickly your body begins to crave him.

“You aren’t being honest with me, baby,” he murmurs. Your lashes flutter. “You aren’t communicating with me. And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say and he sighs like he knows this is a lie. “Really, I just…I know myself. If I don’t put a bit of distance between us…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to breathe on my own.”

This makes him sad and it hurts you to know you’ve made him sad. “Kitten,” he whispers. He steps closer until his chest is brushing against yours. “If I’m doing something wrong—”

“You’re not. That’s the problem.” You swallow and he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “You’re doing everything right and I’m worried I’m gonna want you in ways that I shouldn’t.”

“Do you not want to want me?”

“Not…like that,” you admit. “Not when you’re still hers.”

He frowns. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about anyone else—”

“But I do. Because at the end of the day, you’re still her Harry. You’re on loan to me until one of you decides you shouldn’t be anymore—”

“Kitten—”

“And I can’t be with you in any way but physically. You said so yourself. More would get complicated and even if you wanted to be with me…I don’t think I could share you.”

He considers this. A long moment passes. “So you’re punishing me,” he says. “You’re going out with this Ethan guy to prove that you don’t need me.”

“What? No.” You lean back but he doesn’t let go of your chin. “I mean…okay, maybe I wanted to piss you off a little but I really do think I need to be with someone else in order to truly move on. I’m not punishing you. I’m…obeying you. If anything.”

He scoffs. “If you really wanted to obey me, you would have talked to me about what you were feeling.”

“I tried. You said more would get complicated.”

“It could. There’s always that risk. But I never said it wouldn’t be worth it.”

“So…what? You’d date me?”

“Of course.”

The answer is quick and it surprises you but it doesn’t seem to surprise him.

You blink. “You…really? You would date me? Like…officially?”

“I would.”

“And…what about Rebecca?”

“What about her?”

“You’d…you’d still be with her? Right? Even if we were together?”

He seems to know what you’re implying and sighs quietly. “Yes. I would.”

“And even if you weren’t…I’m assuming you would still want to be in an open relationship with me?”

Another pause. “Probably,” he admits, and even if you knew it was coming, you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes. “That’s just the agreement I’ve always felt most comfortable with—”

“And that’s fine. I get it,” you assure him. You sniffle and he seems to wilt. “Really. I just…like I said, I don’t do well with sharing and if…if all we’re doing is fucking, I might as well just find somebody else, right? So that way the three of us can stay friends. And it doesn’t have to get weird.”

“I understand,” he says and you know he does. “I do, Kitten. And I would never keep you in a relationship you’re not comfortable in.” A beat. “But I can’t say that I like the idea of you going out with this guy.”

You smile. Gently. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

He looks down at you and takes your cheek in his hand. “You’re my girl,” he says. “No matter what. If you’re with me or not with me. You’re my fucking girl. And he doesn’t deserve even a second of your time.”

You fight a large grin and cling to his shirt. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“Because.” You play with his buttons. “You don’t get to be jealous when you’re still with her.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna like seeing you with someone else.”

You pout. “That’s not fair, Harry.”

“I know.” He brings his lips to yours. They hover—close—but never make contact. “I can’t help it. Can’t ever seem to help it when it comes to you.”

You want to push up and take his kiss, but he teases you just a little longer. “Harry—”

“Do you know that, Kitten?” His hands drop to your waist and he squeezes. Even though Rebecca is only two rooms away. Even though you can hear her humming in the bath. Even though he can never be yours. “Do you know how much I think about you?”

You swallow. Thick.

“How I think about the way you asked me to take care of you…” He ghosts his mouth down your neck. “The way you begged me to be rough….to spank you. Choke you. Degrade you.”

His voice is a sin and your eyes fall shut.

“Do you want me to degrade you, baby?” His fingers slip beneath your shirt. “Do you want me to pull you on my lap and spank you until you’re crying?”

The image in your head is somehow even better than his taunting. Your knees about buckle. “Harry…”

“You can find somebody else if you want to,” he whispers. “But do you really think they’ll be able to care of you the way I do? The way you want? The way you deserve?”

His kisses find your chest while his knee slots between your thighs.

“I know how naughty you really are, baby girl,” he says and it’s over. “He will never know.”

You grab his hair and he grabs your hips and you’re on the counter before you can even whisper his name. He pushes the hem of your dress up and guides your legs apart. He makes a home there, finger curling around the crotch of your panties in order to get a taste and it’s magic. Always.

And he does this to you only a few hundred feet away from where his girlfriend is innocently taking a shower. He does this, knowing she could walk out and see. He does this and you let him do this because there is no world in which you stop him.

“Harry,” you say—whimper—and he hums. His tongue licks up your cunt and your head drops back. “Har—wait—”

He doesn’t. He holds your thighs beside his cheeks and he sucks on your clit until you begin to squirm. “You promised to stay for dessert,” he says. “This is my dessert.”

The sounds are loud and beautiful and his curls feel good in your hands. You feel good in his.

Things fall to the ground. Bowls, pots, containers. He grins. He likes this, the danger. And he knows you like it, too. Because if you really wanted him to stop, he would.

But you don’t. And you yank him closer to your pussy as though this will be the last time he ever gets a taste.

And deep down, you wonder if it is.

Either way, you enjoy his tongue and his lips and the tip of his nose that nudges your clit so expertly. You wonder how it’s possible to be so addicted to a man you’re not even with. A man that only recently started fucking you and a man that you’ve only ever considered a friend.

Part of you wants to get caught. Part of you wants things to implode. To believe that he’s doing this because he wants her to find out. Because what would happen if she saw? What would happen if he realized he wanted to end things? Would he be yours? Would he decide that your time and your heart and your pussy were infinitely more important than his sexual prowess?

You scrunch your nose. These are all the wrong questions. Harry doesn’t work like that. He never has and you can’t expect something from him that he won’t ever give you.

You return your focus to him. To the way his large hands are curling around your thighs and hoisting them up on the counter. You love his hands. You think they might be your favorite hands in the world.

They’re so gentle but strong. Practiced. You know they’d look good anywhere on your body. Your thighs, your chest, your throat…

You whimper at the thought and he glances up. He’s proud again. Drenched in your arousal and the evidence of your lust for him.

He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg and nips. He leaves marks and memories along the soft skin and you can’t wait to stare at them whenever he’s not around. The way he makes you his in the only way he can.

And you’re so close. You aren’t even sure how he got you here so quickly but he always seems to. And you don’t mind. Instead, you fist his hair and you buck against his tongue and he’s going to make you cum all over his girlfriend’s kitchen counter.

And then he stops.

He stops, he lets you go, and he pulls away.

Your heart drops to your toes as the orgasm fizzles down to nothing. “What…what are you—"

“Get down,” he says curtly. He slaps your outer thigh. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t tell you where you’re going. And you don’t ask. Instead, you watch as he wipes his mouth and disappears from the kitchen to wait by the front door.

After straightening your dress and readjusting your underwear, you scurry to his side with a fretful glance toward the bathroom. “Shouldn’t you tell her you’re going?”

He smiles. “She’ll figure it out.”

With that, you leave their apartment so he can take you back to your place and he keeps his hand on your thigh the whole drive. You wonder if he merely wants to keep some sort of claim on you or if it’s habit.

Either way, his thumb rubs circles into your skin, right over the dark spots made by his lips and you smile. You want to lace your fingers with his. Want to hold his hand and pretend like the two of you are on your way home from a date. To pretend like this is normal—an everyday occurrence.

But you lose your nerve and soon, he’s pulling into the parking lot.

“I want you upstairs,” he says and gives you a pointed look. “On the bed. Naked. And waiting for me by the time I come up.”

You nod quickly. “Okay. Are…am I in trouble—”

“That depends on if you obey.” He unlocks the door. “So let’s hope you do.”

Swallowing a giddy grin, you scurry from the vehicle and into your building. You don’t bother with tidying up or adjusting your appearance. You run straight into your bedroom, rip off your clothes, and spread out into a starfish position on the bed.

You hear him follow not much later. Slow, deliberate steps. Meant to taunt you, tease you. Make your stomach flip. And it works.

When you see his tall, muscular figure in the doorway, your pulse skips.

Smiling, you call, “Hi, Sir—”

“No speaking,” he says shortly. “Unless I say otherwise. Is that understood?”

“Yes—no—sorry, I’m…” You stop. Nod.

He frowns but you know it’s only to hide a smirk. “Don’t test me, Kitten. You’ve already done that enough this evening, have you not?”

Another nod.

“And you knew better, didn’t you?” He walks into the room and begins to unzip his jeans. “Knew better than to dangle fucking Ethan in my face.”

You nod again but your eyes are trained on his hands. On the fingers that pull the hem of his shirt up and over his head.

“And you fucking knew…that if I got a taste of such a sweet pussy…I’d never stop,” he murmurs. He crawls onto the bed, wearing nothing more than his briefs. “That I’d forgive you. And let you off the hook.”

You don’t nod this time. You can’t. You’re too far gone in the lust in his eyes. The gentle green that’s now dangerous and luring you in.

“Well,” he whispers and then he smiles. “You thought wrong.”

He grabs your thighs and flips you over. Before you know it, you’re on your stomach, head spinning, while a large palm comes down in a sharp smack to your ass.

You jolt. Shriek.

“Easy,” he says and he’s kinder now. “You’re gonna take your punishment like a good little whore, aren’t you?”

Now you understand. You see. And you settle onto the bed as he smooths the stinging print with the soft of his hand.

You nod.

“Good.” He spanks you again. “I think we should do one for every time you lied to me. For every time I asked for the truth…and you refused to give it to me.”

Your lashes flutter. You suppose that’s only fair, although in your defense, the truth would have only hurt him.

“Let’s see…we’ll start with five,” he says and you exhale a sigh of relief. “Because I know you don’t mean to be a bad girl, do you?”

You whimper.

“You want to be good. Want to behave for me.” He spanks you. Number three. “You want a lot of things from me, don’t you? And maybe I’m bad, too. For not being able to give them to you.”

The air in the room shifts and you attempt to glance back.

However, he lays another firm smack to your ass before you can and then squeezes your hip. “Come on, you’re almost done,” he coos. A beat passes. “Do you remember me mentioning the traffic light system?”

You nod.

“Red for stop, yellow for pause, green for good, keep going?”

Nod.

“Good. Then I want you to use your words and tell me what color you are right now. Honestly.”

“Green,” you whisper, then clear your throat and speak louder. “I’m green. Honestly.”

He hums. “And you’re gonna take your last strike, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And you’re gonna thank me for being so generous to such a selfish fucking whore?”

Your cheeks flush. Oh, he’s very good. “Yes, Sir.”

You still can’t see him but you can imagine his grin.

The last spank of his hand lands against your tender skin and somehow…it feels good. There’s something delicious about his pain. About the way he inflicts it. The way your body responds to it.

You groan—moan—and finally manage, “Thank you, Sir.”

He purrs something devious as he strokes the spot and begins to kiss his way up your spine. “Good fucking girl,” he breathes. The exhale of his praise dances across your back and you shiver. “Took your punishment so well. Wasn’t so bad, was it? Bet you even fucking liked, dirty thing. Didn’t you?”

You nod again and feel his knee begin to nudge its way back between your thighs.

“Let’s check, shall we?” His fingers move now for the mess you already know is there. And when he feels it, he curses. “Fucking shit, Kitten, you’re soaked.”

You are. You are soaked and you’re making a mess of your duvet and his knee and he still hasn’t let you cum yet and you think you might die if he waits any longer.

“Harry,” you nearly cry. “Please…please…”

He brings his kisses to the back of your neck. To the place below your ear that makes your stomach flip. He kisses. Sucks. Nips and violates the skin with his teeth.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Okay, but only because I know you need it.”

You nod again and begin to turn over. He goes to stop you—he wants to try from behind—but you insist.

“I want to see your face,” you say. “Please, I just…I need that tonight.”

The softness in his eyes and the fall of his expression almost hurts you. You don’t want to cause him pain or confusion. Ever.

But he’s not confused. He understands. And he agrees because maybe he needs it, too.

You pull him out of his briefs and he hikes your leg around his hip. Until the heel of your foot is digging into his ass and pulling him forward.

When he first pushes in, you both take a moment of silence to appreciate the beauty of your bodies connecting.

Harry was once your best friend and now he’s something else entirely. A completely different entity and you never imagined you’d see his cock disappearing into your cunt but now you don’t want to imagine his cock anywhere else.

When he’s about halfway in, he pulls back out and begins a steady pace. He’s large and he knows you need a moment or two to find the pleasure before he picks up a faster rhythm. So, he puts the focus on you. On your clit, on your thighs, on the way his lips feel against yours.

He kisses you—soft, sweet. Gentle. And then he kisses your neck. Your chest. Plays with your tits and whispers about how good they feel in his hand.

Then, he buries himself to the hilt as his hips find yours.

You arch and he catches you. There are more kisses, more soft murmurings. And there’s an intimacy here that doesn’t feel like sex. It feels like making love, a term you once scoffed at but now indulge in. Because maybe he does love you, in the only way he knows how. Maybe he does choose your body over hers. Maybe this was the best thing that ever could have happened to you.

You grab his hand and bring it to your throat. Pointed enough that he knows what you want and after a quick glance for consent…he squeezes.

Your lashes flutter and you press on his knuckles. Harder. He obeys.

And you were right. His hand does look good on your body. A necklace to wear proudly and he whispers your name before tightening his grip and allowing the sides of your sanity to go fuzzy before loosening his fingers.

You breathe. Deep. The air tastes like him and you love it.

He smiles. “You okay?”

“More than okay. That was…shit, I really like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Probably cause you’re doing it.”

He uses this hold to kiss you and it’s a mess of tongues and spit and loud sucking. It makes you giggle.

“You’re making this very hard for me,” he suddenly whispers.

“Well, I prefer you hard.”

He smirks, but this is not what he means. “I want this to work.”

“I know. I do, too.”

He surges forward—a sharp thrust. “It can’t work if Ethan’s in the picture.”

Oh. “Why? Because you need room for Rebecca?”

He sighs and you hate how sad it sounds. “I know I’m not being fair—”

“You’re not.”

“I can’t help it—”

“Well, neither can I.”

He stops for a moment and looks at you. “You have every right to go out with him. I know that. But I think I’ll lose my fucking mind if you do.” He continues to roll his body against yours and you want to purr. “So I want to make a deal.”

“Okay…”

“If you go out with Ethan, you go out with me,” he says. “If you date him, you date me. And I’ll play nice. I’ll share. But only until you realize he’s a waste of time.

You run your fingers along his shoulders. Along his back. Along the curve of his ass. You think about his proposition. It sounds good, it does. A way to keep him while also keeping your options open.

Because maybe this way, it won’t hurt so much when he still goes home to her.

“Can I think about it?” you ask.

He kisses you. “Of course. Always.”

You resume the languid but fervent pace he previously set. He squeezes your neck whenever he wants to hear you whimper and you scratch your nails down his spine whenever you want him to groan.

And it’s perfect. Truly. Because while you’re on this date with Ethan, he’ll be able to see the marks Harry left on your throat.

And when Harry goes back to Rebecca, she’ll see the scratches down his back made by your hands.

You can’t help but feel satisfied with the idea and it brings you that much closer as Harry presses your hips to the bed and begins to fuck into you harder.

He readjusts his stance above you, knees deep into the mattress and hands clutching the sheets beside your waist. And every thrust is purposeful. Hard. Beautiful. The sounds are symphonic and when you look down to see, you nearly mewl. The way his cock is absolutely fucking covered in you, slipping in and out of your cunt with ease and determination.

He’s beautiful when he’s focused. When he’s about to cum. You just want to kiss him and hold him and love him and be his.

And you fucking hate it.

“Need you to cum, baby,” he whispers and you nod in agreement. “Can you do that?”

“Yes….yes, Sir,” you stammer, already feeling the overwhelming power creep up your thighs. “I’m…I—”

“I know. I know, come on—”

You do. Just like that. Unravel like a spool of thread and dissolve into nothing but pleasure beneath him.

But you don’t feel him follow. In fact, he continues fucking you through your high until he suddenly pulls out and comes all over your swollen pussy.

It’s the most mesmerizing thing you think you’ve ever seen. The sticky substance paints your cunt in masterful strokes. Glistening from your body, your clit, your thighs like stars.

And you want to be disappointed that he didn’t finish inside but soon you understand why.

He takes your hand. Moves it closer and presses your fingers into the mess.

“Touch it,” he whispers. “Fuck it back in.”

Your eyes widen. He smiles but the look in his eye is mischievous and deranged.

“Go on, Kitten,” he says. “I wanna watch.”

Your arms are shaking. In fact, every part of you is still shaking from your orgasm but you obey. You slowly—very slowly—begin to circle your touch around your clit. Feeling the way it nearly throbs as you stimulate it. As you force it into more pleasure.

Harry’s attention is glued to the show before him as he swallows thickly and you swear you can almost see his heart beating against his chest like a cartoon.

You move down. Collect as many drops of him as you can and slowly begin to ease two fingers into your fluttering hole.

When you reach the knuckle, you gasp and he exhales.

It’s perfect.

He scoots back until he can lay on his stomach and place his cheek against your thigh. Close. Close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your hand.

And he watches. Happy. A lazy smile on those beautiful, pink lips. Lashes fluttering every time you whimper or whine.

“I…I can’t,” you whisper. The sensations are too strong. You’ve already cum once, you can’t possibly cum again so soon.

He hums. “Yes, you can. Let me see, baby. Let me watch.”

And you almost want to be embarrassed but something else seems to take over your mind entirely and you can’t help but go faster.

You pinch and curl and flex. You push his offering as far into you as you can reach and then you push in a little more. And it’s easier this time, even if it almost hurts. But you cum. You do, right in front of his very eyes until he’s quickly grabbing hold of you as though he’s desperate to be closer.

You’re more than a puddle this time. You’re practically limp but you’re also so incredibly happy. And he smiles brightly as he pulls your fingers away and puts them in his mouth.

You don’t even have the energy to make a noise this time. You merely watch him—content—until he starts kissing down your palm, along your arm, and to your chest.

Then, he pulls you into his embrace and you both indulge in a moment of peace.

You’re both quiet for a while. Even after your heartbeat has steadied. Even after the sweat on your skin has dried and the room no longer feels so warm.

You run your fingers down his torso. Along the dips and curves of his muscles that seem more defined every time you see him.

“You’re insufferable,” you finally say and he laughs. The sound bounces between the walls of your room—joyous and unencumbered—and it makes you giddy. He doesn’t laugh like this for her. “What? You are.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Another beat. Longer.

Then, you whisper, “Okay.”

He looks down. “Okay?”

“I’ll agree to your deal.”

“Really?” He’s grinning again. Big.

“Mhm. As long as I get to keep you in some way…maybe it’ll be worth it.”

He seems to sadden at the use of the word maybe, but he brushes it off before you can comment on it. Instead, he pulls you closer and kisses you hard. Forever.

And maybe…this won’t be so bad.

Previous Part:

~ Insatiable You* (Pt. 2)

~ Full Infinite You Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles request #harry styles concept #smut #concept #friend!harry #harry and kitten #open relationship!harry #soft dom!harry

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guillotine-drop · 3 months

Text

Ranking New Vegas companions by their alcohol tolerance

Arcade - 6/10: Hear me out, Arcade is a fairly big guy and between his genetics and the work he does, he’s bound to have some weight behind him. Do I think he’s going toe to toe with the average Wrangler patron? No, but I do think you could sit him down with a bottle of wine and by the end he’d be juuuuust tipsy enough to follow you into that Nightstalker cave with minimal complaints.

Boone - 4/10: Despite being a miserable boot boy with a dead wife, I think Boone is on the lower end of alcohol tolerance solely because he’s a sniper; I feel as though the job description means that you can’t exactly be swaying with your shots, so his tolerance would be piss poor. You could probably get him to drink a 12 pack with you, but just watch out: he might start showing a human emotion, and that’ll be uncomfortable for both of you.

Cass - 8/10: There’s something to be said about the fact that you need at least 8 Endurance to be able to beat her at the drinking contest to recruit her. Obviously she can hold her liquor, but I WILL dock points for being sloppy about it. (Girl how did you manage to wake up with a random soldier after the battle??? Don’t you know what your mailman looks like???) Share the whiskey but make sure you loop her belt around a pipe or something so she doesn’t run off.

Veronica - 3/10: I love Veronica. I love her so much. I don’t think she can hold her liquor to save her life. I think Ronnie is a ‘3 drinks and she’s out’ kind of girl. That being said, I also think that she could probably get through most of a box of hard seltzers before she starts feeling it, and I think she’d shotgun them with her Power Fist to be funny.

Raul - 10/10: He’s a ghoul, he’s old, and he’s miserable 95% of the time. I think if you handed him a bottle of Dubious Liquid he wouldn’t even hesitate to drink it. I think he’s drank rubbing alcohol just to see what would happen. I think if you give him a totally intact, unopened, top shelf bottle of tequila, he’d have to excuse himself to the other room for a minute. Definitely the one I’d want to go drinking with.

Lily - 15/10: Mamaw’s 7 feet tall and 500 pounds of sheer muscle with a super mutant metabolism, I don’t even think conventional liquor would affect her tbh. I think she’s drinking that Jacobstown Moonshine that melts spoons and eats through glass. I think she could drink a can of turpentine and it would be like a White Claw. Go grandma, but for the love of god not to the bar. I do NOT have the caps for that.

Rex - 6/10: Okay hear me out (again). He’s an old as hell cyber dog who went through multiple owners, he’s probably got more metal than organs, and the last guys who had him were Elvis impersonators who do fuckall all day but day drink and watch each other do cabaret. You look me in the face and tell me that dog hasn’t had more booze pass through his system than the average wastelander. It’s still only a 6/10 because he shouldn’t be getting it, but are you gonna tell him no? Look at that face. And lower your glass.

ED-E - 0/10: Please do not pour liquor into the orb.

#yeah dude #fallout #fnv #new vegas #arcade gannon #craig boone #rose of sharon cassidy #veronica santangelo #raul tejada #lily bowen #rex fallout new vegas #ed e

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theemissuniverse · 7 months

Note

I love your writing! I saw that your requests were open do to mind doing Johnny Cage x reader? (Gender is your choice) like reader is a god/goddess and somehow falls in love with an earthrealmer?

“TOO CLOSE TO THE HEART” JOHNNY CAGE X GODDESS!READER

A/N : surprisingly this is my first Johnny fic lmao. Also a little bit of info the goddess is of nature and virtue

WARNINGS ; none

MASTERLIST

Johnny was a ladies man. Usually he turned on the charm for every woman. But then he met you and his sole attention was on you.

You’ve told him time and time again that you did not mingle with mortals but he didn’t give up.

Johnny often flirted with you but not like how he usually flirted with women. He still kept it respectful because at the end of the day- you were a goddess.

Usually you were able to not fall for his advances but this time you couldn’t resist.

You were in your garden and helped your pretty flowers blossom. You looked over to your left and saw Johnny looking upset with a flower pot. He was sitting at a picnic table.

The flower pot held a flower that was barley alive.

You were quite concerned for Johnny. He was usually full of light but he looked really upset.

You walked over to him and sat down next to him. “What’s the matter? Someone make fun of one of your films?” You chose to joke.

Johnny sighed. The joke didn’t hit with him. You now were extremely worried. He scratched the back of his neck and he passed you the dying flower. “I know how much you like flowers so I was trying to grow one myself for you but…taking care of a flower is a lot harder than I thought.”

Something about this notion was incredibly thoughtful. You were the Goddess of Nature. Flowers were your everything. So, for Johnny trying to bloom one for you melted your heart. It meant he did care about the things you cared about.

You took the pot. “Lucky for you, I am Goddess of all things nature so…” You used your power and the flower started to regenerate into a healthy golden tone. “It’s all healed.”

Johnny smiled at what you did. “That’s pretty cool that you can do that.”

“Oh really? Because what I heard from Kung Lao, you thought it was pretty lame.”

“Well-that was before I got to know you and now I think it’s kick ass.” Johnny stated. You chuckled a little.

You then thought of something. “Why did you do this or try to do this for me any way?”

Johnny gave you a look like it was obvious. “Come on, doll. Don’t be naive. You know I like you.” He sighed a little. “But you don’t got a thing for mortals so I probably should just leave it be.”

You watched as Johnny was about to stand up from the table. You grabbed his arm and made him sit back down. “You are sweet…when you want to be Johnny and it’s not that I don’t want to but it’s unrealistic to be with you. I am immortal. One day, you’ll die.”

“Hey, I’d be one lucky old man to have you on my death bed and you’ll still look that good.”

You shook your head slightly. “I have a lot of responsibilities. We can’t be together twenty four seven.”

“And I’m a hot shot director now. Same here.” Johnny could see that you were starting to get convinced so he took your hands in his. “Come on! One shot. That’s all I’m asking, babe.”

You thought about it. Johnny had been showing relentless interest in you. And after the flower thing, you couldn’t help but say yes. “Alright. We’ll give it a shot.” Johnny fist pumped the air and you rolled your eyes playfully.

Your eyes glowed a bright green. (Because of your Goddess nature.) Johnny tilted his head as he stared into them. “Say, how do you walk out in public with your eyes like that?”

“I don’t.” You stated simply and your eyes changed to your human eye color. Johnny blinked his eyes in shock as he saw them. “Wow. You should wear your eyes like that more often.”

You return your eyes back to their God like nature. “You don’t like my eyes, Johnny?”

“Nah. You look hot either way, babe.” Johnny leaned in to give you a kiss but you placed a finger on his lips.

“In time I will see if you are worthy of that.”

“You know I like a challenge.”

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #liu kang #mortal kombat 1 #kitana #kung lao #mileena #raiden #johnny cage #mk #johnny cage x reader #kenshi takahashi #mk 1

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caramelcleopatraa · 27 days

Text

GIANNA'S ROOM

word count: 1.2k

x: heyyoo. I came up with this idea a few weeks ago, and I didn't know where I wanted this to go, so I'm excited to see if y'all like this one or not. causeeee I can make part 2 "Roman's Room" which is already planned out :p. anyways hope you guys enjoy (excuse any errors you see of course) and please leave comments. I love comments.

content: He’s a wrestler. She’s a pornstar. They were never meant to meet, but Gianna wanted to ride, so he let her. Roman Reigns x Gianna, 18+ MDNI, dirty talk, masturbation, exchange of videos and pictures

“Thank you guys so much for watching. I’ll see you guys next stream,” Gianna says seductively, blowing a kiss at her viewers. Another successful day, and a hefty bag gust from two hours of work. She was so glad that her roommate, Amara, was non judgemental when it came to her occupation. There’s such a negative view on sex workers, and she was worried she’d be stuck with a roommate who wouldn't respect her, but she lucked out big time. She even offered to be in multiple videos with Gianna when money was tight, which led to Amara creating a OnlyFans account of her own.

1 Notification from: Anonymous

Normally, she shrugged off private messages because they usually lead to personalized requests, which is something she doesn't do. But she gets intrigued once she reads the message preview.

Anonymous Hi pretty, you take requests? I’ll pay you 1000 for….

‘1000?’ She clicks on the notification and reads the full message.

Hi pretty, you take requests? I’ll pay you 1000 for just a quick video.

‘1000 dollars is a lot for a short video.’

EroticMedusa I don't normally take requests, but that offer is too good to deny.

Anonymous I was hoping you’d say that. I’ll go ahead and send the payment through if you want to do the video.

EroticMedusa Sure! Anything in particular you want me to do? I’m here for your pleasure, sir. :)

Anonymous Whatever makes you feel comfortable sweetheart. Need some inspiration?

EroticMedusa If you don't mind. :)

Anonymous Of course sweetheart. [2 Attachments]

She clicks the first picture and her jaw drops to the floor. Saying that he was attractive was an understatement. He’s big. For fucking sure. His wavy hair dangled down from the top of the picture. Pearly white teeth, salt and pepper beard, broad shoulders, big arms and big hands, a large tattoo that covered his right pec and covered his entire right arm, prominent chest, defined torso, thick thighs, and he was hung. She was practically drooling from the picture alone. What didn’t he have? She exited out of the picture and clicked on the video next. She couldn't take her eyes off the screen.

He held his phone in his hand, keeping the phone at the perfect angle to capture his beautiful body. She could hear chuckling as he slowly stroked himself for her. “Look what you do to me baby.” God, his voice. If his body wouldn't do it, his voice definitely would. She was glad that she had free time today to make the video, because she was already turned on from the picture he sent. “Wish you were here with me sweetheart, I’d make you cum all night” He tightens his fist, fucking up into his hand. “Want you to suck this dick so bad, baby. Need to feel those lips around my dick.” She bit her bottom lip, unconsciously grabbing her breasts and bucking her hips. “Damn, I'm finna cum for you. Ahhh shit!” She watched closely as strings of cum leaked from his tip, his head leaned back and his chest heaving from the intense orgasm he had. He stroked himself a few more times, creating squelching from his release dripping over his hands. What she would give to lick him clean.

EroticMedusa Damn daddy, that was so sexy.

Anonymous I’m glad you like it.

EroticMedusa I loved it! Your body looks soo good! And your voice made me so horny daddy.

Anonymous Ever had a stranger make you feel like that?

EroticMedusa No, only you.

Anonymous Good girl. Making me horny again the way you’re talking to me.

EroticMedusa I wish I could've been there to lick you clean. I’m so wet imagining it. I’m making the video right now! Give me a few minutes.

Anonymous Take your time.

Gianna propped her phone up after sending her last message, making sure she was capturing all of the right angles and pressed record. She grabbed her favorite vibrator from her nightstand drawer and positioned herself in front of the camera. She could see herself glistening from her phone. She waved at the camera and giggled before playing with her breasts. Grabbing and tugging at her nipples, bucking her hips again and moaning softly. She imagines his hands replacing hers. “I’m so horny for you, daddy,” She says, spreading her legs to show him her delectable pussy. She was glistening even more now, if that was possible. The hand that wasn’t focused on her breast, teases her folds, and the hand that was on her breast, reached to grab her vibrator.

“I want that dick daddy,” she says, pressing the button on her vibrator placed on her sensitive clit. The strong vibrations made her gasp, her eyes fluttering shut and enjoying the sensation. She imagined him burying his face between her legs, dragging his tongue along her pussy. How he would lick and suck on her clit. How he would make her come on his tongue, and keep going. All of these fantasies were only making her more excited. “Fuck, I want you so bad daddyy. I wish you were here right now.” Her chest bobbed up and down, her ragged breaths mixed in with whiny and desperate moans. The picture and video that he sent earlier was crystal clear in her mind. His deep moans and dirty talk repeated in her head while the vibrator stayed stationary on her clit. “Shiiit- ugh. Feels so fucking good.”

Her back arched as her moans got louder. She was for sure making a mess on the bed and disturbing her neighbors. She didn’t care though. God she needed to cum. Between the video he sent her and the conversation they had, there was nothing she was more focused on than undoing herself. Her spare hand grabbed at the sheets, eyes rolling to the back of her head in euphoric pleasure of the orgasm that was fastly building. “aaah- i’m gonna cum f’r you,” she says, her slurred words that accompanied the light buzzing of the vibrator. Her thighs shook violently as she screamed out pleas and exclaims of pleasure. She turned off the vibrator, working quick circles on her clit, overstimulating herself. Her legs stayed open, displaying the beautiful mess she made on herself and her silk sheets. She grabs her phone, bringing it closer to her cunt, giving him a front row seat. “Would you lick it up, daddy?” She giggles softly, pressing the red button to stop the recording. She sends the video to him, taking a deep breath.

EroticMedusa Here you go, big guy 😘 [1 Attatchment]

‘Shit, that was amazing.’ If he was willing to stick around, she could pump out content in no time.

She cleans herself up minutes later, wrapping herself in her silk robe that matched her sheets. Her phone vibrated against the nightstand, and she quickly unlocked her phone, anxious for his response. And she got just that.

Anonymous God damn baby [1 Attatchment]

She could make another video just from the picture alone. His head was leaned back, showing off his adam’s apple. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat with droplets dripping down his chest. Streams of cum drip down his shaft, down to his balls. She would have loved to see what he looked like while he stroked himself to her video.

Anonymous Can I see you?

EroticMedusa See me? What are you trying to do, sir? 😏

Anonymous I’m tryna give you the best dick down you’ll ever have.

🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2

#roman reigns #caramelcleopatraa #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x chubby reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x reader #wwe fiction #wwe smut #roman x reader

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hxneybimbo · 2 years

Note

could we maybe get something on eddie inviting steve in after steve walked on eddie fucking her brains out??? (and eddie casually mentions “steve here likes to watch doesn’t he”) tbh cant stop fucking thinking about that smut LOL fml

eddie munsion x reader & steve harrington x reader

WARNING: voyeurism, male masturbation, fingering, squirting

Steve really shouldn’t be here. Him being here literally proves Eddie “The Freak” Munson’s theory right: he’s a degenerate fucking pervert who gets off to watching the girl of his dreams getting her brains fucked out. He should feel at least a little bit of shame; but, he doesn’t. All he feels is desperate to catch you both in the act; find you with your legs spread and moaning like the little slut you are while getting completely wrecked by Eddie.

(He didn’t know whether to thank or deck Eddie in the face for coming into Family Video during his shift to extend an invitation. Instead, he gave him an unamused look and told him to fuck off.

“Don’t be such sourpuss, Harrington. Totally get it though, I’d be pretty fuckin’ pissed if I had to deal with blue balls.” Eddie grinned smugly, holding his hands up immediately at Steve’s glare. “I’m kidding, chill dude! But seriously be there, Harrington! You’re in for a real fucking treat, promise.”)

God, does he feel like some pathetic, loser virgin every time he thinks about your pretty cunt being pounded into relentlessly; puffy lips swollen and bruised by Eddie’s balls smack against them. It’s been a real pain in his ass, fisting his cock every night in his room and in his car on every single break of his.

So sue him for accepting Eddie’s invitation and going to his trailer like he was told. His cock is already hard and straining against his jeans after thinking about the treat Eddie’s had planned for him. Was he going to fuck you raw again until your pussy was painted white? Or maybe he’ll get to see you with your legs spread out, cunt on full display with Eddie’s fingers pistoning in and out of you for an hour or two straight?

Like always, the front door of Eddie’s trailer is open, practically demanding him to walk in. He slips inside the house and walks towards the familiar hallway that leads to Eddie’s room. This time there’s no music, just complete and utter silence. He gingerly pauses half way down the hall when he hears your cute whimpers and he takes a deep breath. He definitely can’t do this. He’s fucking sick in the head or something. What kind of person gets off to watching people fuck? Steve most definitely doesn’t.

No, nope, not at all. He’s a normal guy with normal fucking kinks. The regular kind.

“Don’t be a fucking coward, Steve.” He muttered to himself. “Just walk in there and watch and maybe we won’t get turned on. Maybe it was just a fucking fluke.”

He anxiously brushed his hand through his hair and sighed, feet moving forward to stop in front of Eddie’s bedroom door. He turns the doorknob and he sucks in his breath as he opens the door. He stays still in his spot as he finds you with your legs spread and Eddie’s ring clad fingers sunk inside of your pretty cunny, pistoning in and out of you. The squelching sounds of your soaking pussy mixed with your sweet whimpers go straight to Steve’s cock, twitching and hardening underneath his jeans.

He awkwardly stands there with a hard on. He doesn’t know if he should make his presence known, interrupt the both of you. He thinks it’d be cruel to interrupt both of you when he can tell you’re so close to cumming all over Eddie’s fingers. The way your back arches off of your boyfriend’s lap and your moans start to get louder and more high pitched. He tenses when the dark haired stoner makes quick eye contact with him, smirking lightly before he gives you his full attention. Eddie will always prioritize his princess and he’s gonna make sure you at least got your fourth orgasm that he promised you.

Your thighs tremble along with your body as Eddie fucks your pretty little cunny so well, hitting that sweet spot that always has you squealing out Eddie’s name and spasming. You don’t notice Steve at all, not when your eyes are clenched and your too focused on begging Eddie to stop because it’s too much for your sensitive pussy. You’re gripping his wrist with your hand and trying to clamp your thighs down his hand, whining softly.

“S’too much, Daddy! N-No more!” You sob loudly, a little shriek escaping you when Eddie’s thumb starts to caress your swollen clit. He gives your cunt a harsh smack as a warning, ignoring your whimpers and protests.

“Shut the fuck up and take it you ungrateful, little slut,” Eddie hissed against your ear, fingers curling inside of the tight gummy walls of your pussy. “You were the one beggin’ me to play with your pussy, so fuckin’ take it.”

Honestly, Steve didn’t expect Eddie to be a mean dom or have a daddy kink. Nor did he expect you, Miss. “I’m a good girl who is too innocent for this fucking world”, to be so depraved. To be such a little fucking slut as Eddie likes to call you. God, what he would to shove his cock down your throat. He pulls down his zipper and jeans silently, wrapping his hand around his thick cock and he groans quietly. He doesn’t want to make any loud noises that will interrupt this fucking art so he silently begins fisting and grinding into his hand, watching how Eddie fingers you.

Eddie’s ruthless with the way his fingers hit your most sensitive area inside of you. It doesn’t help with the fact that he’s thumbing your sensitive, raw clit. And god, do you take it. Your brain turns to mush as drool seeps out of your mouth, flood of tears trailing down yours as your fourth orgasm of tonight crashes over you hard. All you muster up is a silent scream, your body spasming and clamping your thighs down on Eddie’s hand as your pussy gushes all over his sheets.

“Fuck,” Both Steve and Eddie muttered as they watched your pretty pussy gush and squirt all over the already stained bed. It doesn’t take long for Steve to cum into his own hand, grunting quite loudly as he paints his palm white. You slump against Eddie’s chest and pant softly, opening your eyes to find Steve with his hand wrapped around his cock. You let out a quiet squeak and you immediately sit up, pushing your shirt down to cover your tits and pussy.

“Steve?!”

Eddie threw his head back and let out a loud, boisterous laugh, startling you. You look up at him with your lips jutted into a small pout and eyebrows furrowed into confusion. Eddie takes a peek at you before turning his head up to stare at Steve; the smile on his face breaking into a wide, amused grin.

“Steve here likes to watch, Princess.” Eddie leans forward to whisper those words against your ear. “Like a sick fuckin’ perv.”

You turn to look at Steve with wide, innocent eyes and back at Eddie. “Like a perv?”

“Total fuckin perv.” Eddie nods with a light chuckle, nearly cooing at your confused yet so adorable expression. He forgets how dumb you get after he gives you an orgasm. A little bit of his cock gets you a bit stupid too.

Steve scowls at Eddie, “I’m not a fucking pervert! It’s just a fucking… very different kink that I happen to be into.”

Eddie shoots his arms up in mock surrender, “Hey, whatever weird kinks you’re into isn’t any of my business but I’m just saying– Jacking off to watching my girl get fingered? Pervert type shit.”

You don’t know what to say except awkwardly sit there. You’re a little ashamed and embarrassed that Steve watched the whole entire thing—that you were clueless to his presence the entire time. But knowing that he was jacking off to you being fucked by your boyfriend, slightly turned you. You eye the white liquid that’s seeping out of his palm and your thighs clench together, your pussy fluttering.

Eddie caresses your hip and you shiver when the cool metal of his rings touch your skin. Your boyfriend trails kisses down your neck and nips your ear, “Don’t think I don’t know you’re turned on by having an audience, Princess. He can watch all he wants but he can’t touch. You’re mine, got that? That means this pussy is mine too.”

You gulp and nod, eyeing Steve and blushing when he eyes you up. It doesn’t help with the fact that his cock is still very hard and so, so thick that you can’t help but want to wrap your pretty lips around and worship it. But compared to Eddie’s? Your boyfriend’s cock was pretty, so so pretty that you’re obsessed with it.

“Let’s give him a show, princess. Gonna show him how to fuck a goddess like you.” Eddie grins.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #stranger things smut #tw.squirting #tw.fingering #tw.voyeurism #asks #my asks

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raineandsky · 4 months

Note

could we get a flirty villain X oblivious cinnamon roll hero please ? I'll give you a cookie 🍪

oooooooo one of my favourite tropes!! i love dumbasses who are just blind to the most obvious things, hope you enjoy :D

“Beautiful evening for it, isn’t it?”

The hero whirls to meet their new foe, fists raised, but the villain only throws them a sweet smile. Almost a smirk, like they know something the hero doesn’t.

“There’s no need for that, is there?” they purr. “I’m only commenting on the view.”

The villain isn’t even looking at the view, as beautiful as it apparently is. The hero slowly lowers their fists. They haven’t seen too much trouble from this villain before, they suppose.

The villain’s heels click against the concrete as they saunter closer. The hero pins their gaze to the sunset. The way their nemesis is watching them is a little too intense for their liking. “It’s nice at night, too, from up here,” the hero says, because the silence is stretching a little too long and they’re getting awkward about it. “The city looks crazy from here when it’s all lit up.”

The villain hums idly, pausing next to them to actually take in the scenery beyond. The hero glances at them and– oh. No, they’re not admiring the view. They’re still staring.

The hero shuffles on their feet and averts their gaze. More silence. The hero opens their mouth to make another painful attempt at conversation.

"You know,” the villain thankfully says instead, “there’s a really cute little restaurant downtown. Italian. It’s on that corner opposite the convenience store.”

The hero’s brow knits slightly. “The Pizza House?”

The villain’s face brightens. “That’s it! I forgot the name.” They finally, finally, turn their gaze out to the city. “I’ve been watching you from the sidelines for a while, [Hero]. You impress me. I thought you might like to join me down there tomorrow night.”

A challenge. Or a trap. The villain’s inviting them to one of their crimes. There’s something going on here—what’s the catch?

“I’ve heard the food is to die for,” the villain’s saying. “The cocktails are supposedly explosive.”

Explosive? God, the villain’s going to blow the place to smithereens. Then again, the hero is being handed the perfect chance to put a stop to this inane plan. Best to go along with it.

“Oh, yeah.” That doesn’t sound believable even to their own ears. “When were you thinking?”

The villain hums shortly, tilting their head in thought. “About seven? I’d like my food to go down before we continue with the rest of our evening.”

They grace the hero with a wink and a confident smirk. Oh god, are they planning to blow up two buildings?

“Where, uh, where were you thinking of taking the rest of the evening?” It’s too obvious a question, but the villain doesn’t seem to mind. They’re amused by it, if anything.

“I don’t know,” the villain says with a dramatic sigh. “Your place?”

The villain must’ve seen the way the hero’s eyes widened at that. They only just hold down the incensed “WHAT” threatening to announce itself.

Did the villain just tell the hero that they intend to blow up their house?

The hero clears their throat for a moment. The villain grins like this is exactly the reaction they wanted. “Sure,” they manage eventually. “Sounds… exciting.”

The villain’s gaze is on them again, striking as ever, and the hero has to once again look away. It’s a little nerve wracking, being studied so closely. They can see the villain’s light smile out of the corner of their eye.

“It will be.” The villain’s fingers brush against the hero’s arm, and the hero shivers. A promise—of mass destruction, by the sounds of it. “I’ll make sure of that, darling.”

The villain throws one last arrogant smirk at the hero before they’re off, strolling back across the rooftop and leaving the hero alone once again.

The hero’s phone is out as soon as the villain is out of sight. No point in wasting time.

“Yeah,” they say quickly. “I’m going to need every hero available honed in on the Pizza House at seven tomorrow evening. I think something big is coming.”

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #.............. can i have my cookie now plz #i literally sat on this for like 4 days. idk why. brain farted and i couldnt think of ANY ideas #reading my favourite trope: haha yea!!! fuck yea!!!!#writing my favourite trope apparently: ough.......... whadda hell.............

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sherifftillman · 9 months

Text

Worth the Wait

Pairing: Tom Grant x f!bartender!Reader Genre: smut Tags:Make Up (film), 18+ (minors DNI), alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv (pulling out) Summary: Your favourite customer has a confession to make, that he's very eager to. You wish you could believe him - if only he weren't drunk every time he saw you. Word count:7.1k A/N: God, this fic's been a long time in the making! I started writing it months ago, but then @choke-me-eddie wrote the phenomenal Jack Daniels and Coke and I gave myself massive imposter syndrome for ages lol, but one day I was going through my WIPs folder and something told me to start this up again. So, here it is! PS: the amount of time i spent on making that gif look like he's getting himself off for more than like 4 frames before feckin roof gets in the way, as naturally as i could get it, is between me and god. 😂

“Hello again, gorgeous,” your favourite voice slurs from the other side of the bar.

You see big, warm brown eyes greet you along with the biggest grin you’ve seen all day and your heart melts, despite the pang of disappointment. “Hello yourself, sweetheart. Back to drown more of your troubles?”

“Can I not just come over to my favourite pub and chat to my favourite barmaid, with no ulterior motive?” he pouts, leaning an elbow on the bar so he can rest his chin on his fist, a trademark pose for Tom.

“Not when you’re already pretty wavy,” you point out with raised eyebrows, wafting the air in front of him. “I can smell the Fosters on you a mile off. Didn’t take you for a piss drinker.”

He pulls a face, “Weren’t my doing, honest. Some of the blokes at work decided to get together an’ have dinner somewhere, an’ they bought everyone a pint each without asking us. I had to sneak in a couple of shots to take the taste away and then they bought another, so I had to drink even more.”

“Your life is so hard, babe,” you pout patronisingly, and he sticks his tongue out at you in response. You pour him a glass of water and slide it over to him. “Here. On the house, and that’s a deal only my favourite customers get.”

He looks at you disbelievingly. “As if water isn’t free for everybody, good one.” You smile back at him with just as much snark as he’s giving you as he drinks it all down in one go, and you take the excuse to watch his throat bob while he’s distracted.

You’ve always had a soft spot for Tom. Ever since the poor sod ended up at your pub following the break-up between him and his childhood sweetheart. You’d heard it all about Ruth, and her new friend Jade, and all of the accusations Ruth would make against Tom just to turn around and do the very same to him with Jade. The last time he visited became a real turning point, when he’d gotten especially drunk and admitted to you that he’d been questioning his attraction to her, himself.

“I don’t even know what it was that turned me off, you know. Or maybe it was never even there.”

“Well, is she your type? What kind of person are you usually into?”

“Pretty girls. Like you,” he drawled, resting his chin on his fist.

“Nice try, Mr Grant. I’d believe you if you weren’t so wasted,” you smirked.

“Ooh, Mr Grant, so formal. How’d you know that, anyway?”

“Your last name? Let’s see, your ID, your bank card… ’S not that difficult to find out.”

“Yeah, but you remembered it. I think you fancy me, too,” he grinned smugly.

“Too bad you’ll never know,” you shook your head, and he pouted at you.

“Not even gonna tell me? Tease.”

“Even if I did, there’s no way you’d remember in the morning, so there’s no point, is there?” you shrugged.

“Bet I would. I’d never forget something if it were about you,” he simpered.

You tried to ignore the butterflies swarming in your stomach and managed to keep your composure as you replied, “Alright, then, if you still feel the same way about me, but stone cold sober, I’ll give you my number. But only then.”

Tom had wanted to stay true to his promise so badly. He’d wanted nothing more than to just sit and watch you work and flirt relentlessly with you. No liquid courage needed. But of course it was Barry’s birthday, and Barry wanted all the lads together for dinner. Tom had felt honoured to finally be included as one of the lads, but it came at a price. A price that he felt too tipsy to then go back to his caravan, all alone with his thoughts. Only one person usually made him feel better in this state. And he’d promised you a sober confession. Yet here he was, giving you the exact opposite.

“Can I ’ave another one?” he asks, holding the glass out to you.

You kiss your teeth and shake your head, lightly lilting, “Alright, but soon enough, I am gonna have to start charging you.”

He narrows his eyes. “Water don’t cost nothing, though. We already established that, remember?” Still in his hand, he taps the empty glass against his head as you take out a fresh one for him.

“So, maybe I’ll have to think of other ways to have you pay for my efforts,” you smirk, putting the water down and resting your hands on your edge of the bar, shifting your weight onto your wrists.

“Oh, yeah?” Tom leans forward, intrigued, a coy smile playing on his lips. “What’s that, then?”

You wrinkle your nose, "Depends what you've got to offer."

"Just. This," Tom states as he steps back and gestures at himself with both hands, the slur that’s still present in his voice betraying him.

You sigh. "Remember the rule, Tommy boy," you waggle your eyebrows at him, and he groans.

"Yeah. I know,” he pouts as he grabs the glass with a frustrated force and starts chugging again.

You look at him with hopeful eyes. “There’s always next time, eh.”

~~~

“So, let me get this straight,” your best friend stops you, looking up in disbelief at the location you’d chosen. “You decided to get us all to meet up for drinks, for your birthday, and we could have gone anywhere. And you choose your work?!”

“Well, yeah, I’m not allowed to use my staff discount while I’m on shift, obviously, so why not take advantage of it on my big day, eh?!” You grin.

She rolls her eyes, “You’re a menace.”

“Yeah, but you put up with me,” you rest your chin on her shoulder, still beaming from ear to ear as you both stumble into the pub together.

“Ooh, Tommy the Tank Engine at 2 o’clock,” your best friend giggles, pointing over at a group of men that, sure enough, includes Tom himself.

“Don’t point, dickhead!” You hush, grabbing her hand and shoving it back to her side. “Oh, bless him, look at him. Now, listen, you cannot let me get so drunk that I make a tit of myself in front of him, okay? I’ve got a - you know, a -” You wave your hand around in front of you, trying to think of a word. “Not quite reputation, but you know what I mean. A thing we’ve got.”

“I don’t think that I do,” she laughs, shaking her head. “Unless you mean, like… Because you’ve told him you’ll only believe him if he’s sober, you don’t wanna flirt with him while you’re drunk.”

“You get me,” you smile wistfully as you lean against her, cuddling up to her.

Giggling again, she shoves you away. “Gerroff, unless you really wanna give him the wrong impression! Besides, I say go for it, anyway. Ride that train,” she mimics pulling a steam train whistle and you scold her as you shove her towards the bar.

You meet up with the rest of your friends and have a shot with them. One of your regulars wishes you a happy birthday and buys you another. One of your coworkers gives you another one on the house.

You’ve totally forgotten who else was even here, until after your best friend insists on buying you your favourite cocktail, and as you shuffle between other people waiting at the bar to let others get out, you feel your back collide with the solid weight of someone else’s chest, followed by an all-too-familiar, “Easy, tiger!”

You take a deep breath in and look at your best friend in bewilderment before steeling yourself and pivoting to look at Tom, “Oh my god, hi! I’m so sorry!”

“’S alright. Someone’s having a good night, aren’t they?” He smiles down at you.

“It’s her birthday, you know!” Your best friend shouts over at him, and he gives a thoughtful frown back, raising his eyebrows at her.

“I did not know that, as a matter of fact! S’pose I better do my rightful duty and get the birthday girl a drink, too, shouldn’t I?”

“Trying to get me drunk, now, are ya? I see your game, Mr Grant,” you tease, earning a sly grin from him and a side-eye from your best friend.

“Fair’s fair, you’ve seen me plastered enough times,” he waggles his eyebrows at you. “What’s your poison, ladies?”

Tom buys both yours and your best friend’s drinks for you, and orders something for himself while your friend sneaks away to leave you both to it, though you don’t realise it. You frown when you see Tom pick up a full pint glass of Coke and point at it. “Big glass for a mixed drink.”

“Yeah. Almost as though it isn’t,” he smirks, moving his glass to chime it against yours. “Happy birthday, love.”

Though your heart sinks at the idea that he really did try to keep to his word tonight, you decide to keep up the playful rapport the two of you know so well. Punctuating your first three words each with a poke to the middle of his chest, you grin slyly, “I think you are just looking for an excuse to see me drunk, for once.”

Running two of his fingers alternately up your shoulder at his first three words, he mimics your tone, “I think you are just looking for an excuse to touch me.” He rests his wrist on your shoulder, and the fingertips that ghost the skin on your back send shivers all through you.

“Says the man who’s keeping his arm there,” you reply with a smug lipped smile, and he shrugs, that fake frown making another appearance on his face.

“Alright, I guess if you don’t want it,” he slides his arm away from you tantalisingly slowly, his eyes locked onto yours the whole time. You whimper involuntarily, your voice betraying you, when his fingertips are the only thing dragging against you. With a proud chuckle, he rests the heel of his hand back on your shoulder again, his fingertips leaving goosebumps where they ghost against the skin left exposed from the strap of your dress. “You should really get back to your friends now.”

“Not without you,” you pull a face at him, “not after all this! You bought the two of us a drink, remember, you can’t just leave us now!”

He smiles in quiet pride. “What would I tell all my mates, eh? That I’m abandoning them?”

“They can come over, too!” you counter. “My friends won’t mind, they’d love extra company.”

“Why, do you plan on being distracted all night?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you again.

“Where’s this Tom been hiding then, anyway, eh?” you buffer his question with your own. “How come I don’t see this version of you when I’m sober? Am I that intimidating?”

“Ooh, yeah, dead scary,” Tom answers sarcastically, shaking his head and furrowing his brow, but he laughs when you waggle your fingers in a jokingly haunting manner.

“Will you at least drink with me, so I’m not the only one making an arse of myself?” you pout, trying to give him your best doe eyes.

“But then who will be here to document all your arse-ry?” Tom starts, but you interrupt.

“That’s not a word!”

“Piss off, drunky, how do you know?” he teases, laughing at your offended gasp. “No, if you’re gonna make a scene, I wanna make sure my head is crystal clear so I can lord it over you for the rest of time. As it is, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of material to embarrass me with tonight,” he flashes his eyes at you as you approach his friend group, waving your own over.

You all eventually commandeer your own corner of the pub, you and Tom sat on one of the old leather sofas as the other is crammed with a mix of both his friends and yours, as well as others being peppered around on regular dining chairs. After asking around, and others insisting that they’re fine where they are, thereby refusing your invitation to join you and Tom on the sofa, your legs start to ache. Not being able to find enough floor space to stretch them out adequately, you simply decide to drape them across Tom’s lap, which he takes to naturally.

He doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that they’re there at first, which has your mind turning over and over, until he starts gently, absent-mindedly stroking his fingertips up and down your leg. The tingles that shot through you at his touch earlier return again. He notices your longing stare in his direction and, without moving his head, glances over at you, winks, then looks back at the person he's talking to. The sensation that causes goes straight to your core.

“Whose round is it then?” one of your friends asks, standing just next to the sofa you’re sat on.

Leaning back, you wave her over so that she bends down to you, pulling her head down as close as it’ll get to your face before whispering in her ear, “Could you actually just get me a Coke? Nothing in it?” She nods and you grin at her as she stands tall again. “Oh!” You fish your staff ID out of your bag and hand it over to her. “Don’t forget to use that, don’t go paying full price here if you can help it!”

“Not exactly a great advertisement for this place, are you?” One of Tom’s friends asks amusedly before declaring he’ll buy the drinks in, and you watch as him and your friend go to the bar with the intent to order them - though even once they’re out of your earshot, you still notice that they seem to be distracting themselves.

Tom finally finishes his other conversation and nudges you to ask in an intrigued voice, “What were you two whispering about earlier, then?”

“And why’s that any of your business?” You ask back with a sly smile.

He shrugs, “Dunno, might have been about me.”

"If I was gonna talk about you, I'd say it to you," you grin, leaning to rest your head on the back cushion of the sofa.

"Yeah?" he asks with raised eyebrows. “In front of everyone?”

You shrug, “Depends. You got anything you want to tell me in front of everyone?”

He beckons you close with two fingers - a gesture you try desperately not to fixate on - and leans in close to your ear, cups his hand around it and whispers, "I proper fancy you."

"Yeah, and water's wet," you lean around to raise your eyebrows back at him, giggling as he frowns at you. “Glad to hear it from this version of you, though.”

He can't keep his frowning up for long, though, his own eyebrows soon waggling with anticipation. "Alright, so, c’mon, then. You got anything to say to me?”

You lean in with the intention to whisper back in his ear, but you get distracted by your friend handing you your drink, along with a very knowing look. “You two need a room?” They ask with a smirk.

“Like you two weren’t locking lips over at the bar?” You tease back, flashing your eyes over to Tom’s friend briefly. Laughing it off with you, your friend joins her new companion for the night as you settle yourself in next to Tom.

“Big glass for a mixed drink,” he repeats what you’d said to him earlier with a smug look on his face.

Knowing what he’s doing, you grin back, “Almost as if it isn’t.” Leaning across to grab his own glass again from the table, he clinks it against yours for the second time this evening and takes a big swig, his eyes never leaving yours.

When the pub finally closes, you, Tom, and those of your friends that haven’t already dispersed for the night, decide to make for the first fast-food place you see. One of Tom’s friends even takes advantage of Tom insisting on buying you a burger by holding his lighter on top of it while everyone sings Happy Birthday to you. You spend the last few minutes of your birthday surrounded by friends, old and new, singing and laughing and falling against Tom’s arm while he feeds you fries. Sure, you could have gotten even more drunk, found some other club that was open and danced the night away - but something about this just feels nicer.

Everyone’s figuring out their taxi situations when Tom turns to you. “What about you, which cab are you taking?”

“Neither,” you shake your head, scrunching your face up. He looks at you quizzically, and you hold your hand out in front of you to gesture down the road, moving it around a couple of times to gesture your route home. “Walking distance.”

Just as Tom's about to reply, he's interrupted by his friends yelling at him to get in their cab. He looks over at them and turns his nose up. "Nah, think I'm gonna stick with this one, not sure how much I trust these streets. I'll get my own later, it's fine." You don't hear exactly what his mates say, but the general tone of their collective jeering and grabbing Tom's arm as he bats them away and tells them, “Alright, gerroff!” tells you everything.

They chorus one more happy birthday! to you before Tom shuts the car door on them. You shout back that you'll treat them to a round next time they come into the pub and you can hear their cheers even when the door is shut, which makes you laugh. The pair of you wave both taxis off as they drive away, and you and Tom naturally link arms as you start walking back to your place.

"How you feeling?" he asks.

"Pretty damn good. You keep some decent company," you smile at him.

"What, that gaggle of idiots? Yeah, they're not so bad," he laughs softly. "Good birthday, d'you reckon?"

"Best so far," your smile widens as you hug his arm, leaning your head against it. He rests his head on top of yours, reaching over with his free hand to rub where your two meet around his bicep.

The pair of you make little pockets of small talk in the short walk to your house until you stop in front of it. Tom whistles as he looks it up and down. "What's your pay like at that pub? I'll have to start working there."

You laugh, "Calm down, I just rent out the top floor." You sigh happily. "Come see it, if you like."

"Ooh, inviting me in, eh? So late at night? Whatever will the neighbours say?" Tom teases, making you laugh.

"Oh, shut it," you smirk, shaking your head.

"Well, you are sending me mixed signals, here," Tom widens his face and crosses his arms. "See, I've wore my heart on my sleeve. I've told you what I think of you, many a time, in fact. And yet here you go, stringing a poor boy on, leaving him without a clue how you feel," he rocks himself from side to side, his movements and tone getting more and more extravagant as he keeps talking.

You swat at him playfully, "Shut up, or else you really will wake up the neighbours!" You step closer to him and beckon him closer. As he leans in, you move round to cup your hands over his ear and whisper, "I proper fancy you, too."

“Oh, yeah?” He murmurs seductively, reaching over to stroke his hands up and down your arms. “An’ how can I be so sure of that, drunky?”

“Piss off, I’m sober now,” you make the weakest attempt at shoving his chest, your palms flat against it, but it does nothing to his gait, only making him laugh under his breath. Instead, your hands grab the shirt beneath them as you grin, “C’mere,” and pull him in for a kiss. It’s filled with all the passionate relief of finally getting to do something you’ve both wanted for so long, and it only ramps up the longer you kiss for.

You hum in questioning, breaking away for a second to jerk your head towards your door, and he chuckles between even more kisses as he cradles your face, constantly pulling you back in for more. “Trying to get me inside, are you?”

With a sly smile, you pull back. “Well, if you don’t want to -” You swivel to face the door itself, digging your keys out of your bag, but Tom’s back on you in a flash. His body presses into your form as his hands slide back around your body, down to squeeze your hips, back up to wrap around your breasts, all while he kisses your neck.

You melt into his touch, leaning back to press yourself against him. You allow your hips to sway back and forth, grinding your ass against what is almost certainly a bulge straining against the denim. He hums against your neck, “Don’t even wanna wait ’til we get in? Dirty girl,” he accompanies his last remark by leaning back just enough to reach down and lightly spank your ass cheek, making you gasp audibly. Stepping forward to close the gap again, he nuzzles your ear as he purrs, “Oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?”

You whine in agreement and he continues nuzzling his nose down past your jaw, ghosting his lips against the sensitive flesh of your neck once again. You hum out a soft moan as you finally wrestle your key into the lock. The pair of you practically fall over each other to get through the door, but you're quick to pin him against it as soon as it shuts, kissing him desperately.

He moans into your mouth, "Oh, fuck, someone's eager, aren't you? Wanna just take me right here and now, huh?" You laugh against his lips as you keep kissing him. He hums back, "Let's see how much you want me, yeah?" as his hand ghosts beneath the skirt of your dress, sliding up your inner thigh to press against your core through your panties.

You whimper into the kiss and he drawls, "Fuck me, you're so wet, already. Thinking about this on the walk here, were you?" He slides a finger up and down the fabric of your underwear as he mutters into the inch of space between your lips. "Or while we were at the pub?" He asks as he presses against your covered clit. You grab at his shirt, where you'd already made a mess of it, and he whispers smugly, "Or have you secretly spent your whole birthday hoping it'd end with this?'

You cry out again, finally finding your voice, "God, please, Tom… Want more.” You look at him with pleading eyes and he chuckles back.

"Mmm, now there's a face that I've been dreaming about. But you were the one to pin me to the door here, so I think I should get to enjoy kissing you a little bit longer, at least," he mutters as he leans back in to resume his embrace.

"Tease," you accuse against him, and he laughs again.

"'M not teasing at all, sweetness, just been waiting so long for this, I wanna take my time an– Yeah, I'm totally teasing you," he grins as he cranes his head to kiss your neck again. You whine in protest, and he deftly moves your panties aside to slide one long middle finger inside of you. “Go on, then, just one, for now. Seeing as it is your birthday, an’ all,” he grins wickedly, but he soon melts against you as you squirm and moan around him. As his posture relaxes, you move your hands onto his shoulders and start pushing, which he points out with an amused, “You try’na tell me something there?”

“I mean, seeing as it is my birthday…” You counter, lilting with an obviously fake nonchalance.

Tom grins as he sinks himself lower. “Yeah, I’ll get on my knees for you, love.” Once he’s knelt at your feet, he feels his way up your thighs, past your dress until his fingers hook into the sides of your panties. He looks up at you pleadingly with a soft noise of questioning, soon beaming once you nod in affirmation as he pulls them down to your ankles. He sighs dreamily as he looks up at you. “Fuck, babe, look at you,” he breathes out. “Could just stare at you for hours.” You pout at him, and he responds with a cheeky, “Yeah, maybe I will. Maybe I’ll just -” He sits back on his heels with a small, smug smile, “sit right back here and watch as - oh, someone’s twitchy, aren’t they?” He asks with soft intrigue, cocking his head to the side as he leans in closer between your legs.

“Tom, please…” You plead. “Enough teasing, now.”

“Yeah? Alright, then,” he sits up to bury his face into you, his tongue lapping away at the edges of your folds. “Mmm, y’taste so good, babe. So much better’n I imagined. C’mere,” he wraps his arms around your thighs as he carries on eating you out. He starts off so carefully, sweet little kitten licks to your clit and long, slow, drawn out ministrations through your core, but he takes the hint when you whine out in frustration, grab his hair and push his head further in.

He starts fucking you with his tongue, making you cry out in ecstasy, especially when he reaches up to rub at your clit in quick circles. You keel over and perch yourself on the door when he switches up to suck on your clit while sinking two fingers into you and curving them. He keeps mumbling into your skin, words you wish you could hear were it not for the blood pumping in your ears, but it seems as though Tom only intends for his compliments to be heard only between him and your cunt.

He finally pulls away, breathing heavily, and pushes himself up to stand, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss. He moans as he presses his body against yours, as though the thought of making you taste yourself is turning him on all the more. “Wanna fuck you,” he pants as he presses his forehead to yours. “Please, I wan- need to be inside you, like, now.”

“Not so cocky, now, are you, babe?” you smirk, and he laughs.

“No, miss, just one taste and I’m already wrapped ’round your finger,” he jokes.

You jerk your head behind you, “Think you can wait ’til we get up them stairs?”

Tom steps aside and gestures towards them with an, “After you.”

You laugh as you first kick away the underwear still sitting on your ankles before taking your shoes off, prompting Tom to do the same. He stays behind you as you run up the flight of stairs leading into your living area, though not without another soft smack to your ass as he follows it.

Once you’re back on flat ground, you hold your hand out for him to take, walking backwards as you pull him towards your bedroom, even while the pair of you lock lips once again. You scramble to get his shirt off before you’ve even reached your bedroom door, though every attempt to lean back and admire him is scuppered by him leaning in to keep kissing you, until you practically fall through the doorway.

You guide him over to your bed and push him down onto it. His hands explore your body as you stand between his legs, before sliding up your thighs and pushing your dress up over your ass. His hands grip your cheeks roughly as he pulls you closer, craning his neck around to look at it as he plays with it, gently slapping each one alternately as it jiggles and loving the sights and sounds of it. "Fuck, angel, want you so bad," he groans before looking up at you pleadingly. "D'you want me, too?"

Caressing his face gently, you beam, "Get the rest of those clothes off and shuffle back on the bed, and I'll show you." Tom scrambles backwards, wriggling himself free of his jeans and boxers as he does, until he's laying back on your pillows, clothes discarded on your bedroom floor. You slowly strip yourself of your own clothes, too, opting to shimmy your dress down past your hips, really putting on a show for him as you push it over your bare ass, before unclipping your bra, holding it high and dropping it down onto the floor.

You stop for a moment to just enjoy the sight of him, your favourite customer, laying on your bed, biting his lip as he jerks off to the sight of you right in front of you. You whimper as you fall to rest one knee on your mattress, rubbing at your own clit as you watch him, the tip of his cock peeking out through his foreskin with every tug, tantalising you. He looks just a little bigger and just a little wider than you're used to, and you feel your pussy drench beneath you at the thought of him filling you up. "You gonna keep that gorgeous body of yours that far away from me for long, sweetness?" Tom pouts, and you hurriedly climb him like a tree. You go to kiss him once you've straddled him, but he jokingly turns his head aside. “No, no, if you’d rather stay away from me, don’t let me stop you,” he jokes, and you consider playing him at his own game, but you realise the quickest way to get what you want.

Pouting, you lean yourself down onto him, especially making sure you squeeze your breasts against his chest, and croon, “Oh, please, Tom, I need you so bad. ’M sorry I got so distracted by what a pretty cock you’ve got, please let me ride it, I swear, I’ll be so good for you.”

Tom slowly turns his head back to look at you, a proud smirk on his face as he lifts his head to place a hand behind it. “Go on, keep begging, that’s my girl,” he drawls, lightly tracing your back with the fingertips of his free hand.

Feeling your heart soar and cunt throb at the sentiment, you whine, grinding your hips against his, "God, Tom… Want you to fuck me so bad, been dreaming about it f'too long, need to feel it now, please? Just for tonight?"

Tom wrinkles his nose. "Dunno about that…" And for a fleeting second, you're filled with a disappointed doubt that he's changed his mind, until he grabs at you and, with a mischievous grin, throws you off to the side, wrestling your giggling self until you're the one laying beneath him. He perches himself on his elbows to hover above you, and playfully and tenderly strokes all around your face before purring happily between kisses, "'M definitely gonna fuck you tonight… But I'm also gonna fuck you in the morning… And again, a little bit after that… And again, after that… Sound good so far?"

You hum happily, "Sounds perfect. But, please can I have your cock inside of me, now? Have I earned it yet?"

"Aww, gonna milk it, pretty girl?" He coos, reaching down to guide his tip between your folds. "Gonna take it all in that tight little pussy of yours, yeah? Gonna be good f'me?" You nod, whining desperately as you feel him starting to push into you. "Oh my god," he whimpers as he enters you, kissing you passionately as he fills you. Your hips start to buck down instinctively as he moves, and he tuts, "Fussy girl can't wait?"

You pout your lower lip out, "'M not fussy."

He does the same expression back to you sarcastically. "You're not?" He asks mockingly as he slowly starts pulling out. You grab his shoulders in protest, and that wicked smile of his comes back. "Fuck me, you are dirty, aren't you?" You nod in defeat, and he presses another kiss to your lips. "Good," he beams before sinking himself back into you, filling you up.

Your fingers dig into the supple flesh just above his shoulder blades as your legs wrap around his hips. "Oh, fuck, Tom… So much… Better…"

"Better, eh? So you'd think about me, too? While I spent - mmm - my nights getting off to the - fuck - thought of you, you were - shit - doing the same?" You nod, whining in agreement, and he moans as his thrusts get more frantic. "Fuck, I've wanted you - needed you - for so long, now… Never letting you go, never gonna stop - ah, shit, yes," he groans.

You pout at him, "Not even at least long enough for me to get on all fours?"

He looks at you as though all of his Christmases have come at once. "You want that?"

You nod, biting your lip. "And, since you love it so much, you can pull out and cum on my ass, if you want."

Add all his birthdays at once as well, based on his reaction. "Always knew you were the perfect woman, holy shit," he mutters in awe as he pulls out of you. You turn yourself around to get on your hands and knees, arching your back to present yourself to him, and he grabs at your ass to admire the sight in front of him, and he growls under his breath. A guttural, feral sound that has you clenching around nothing. “Been thinking about this much, then?”

“Oh, only pretty much every time I’m closing up the bar,” you chirp in reply. “Why’d you think I’ve been asking for you to stay sober for a night?”

“Fuck, if this is what one night gets me, I’m going teetotal,” he sighs wistfully, making you giggle.

“What was that line you gave me earlier about keeping that body away from me?” You tease, biting your lip as you anticipate the inevitable spank to your ass cheek with glee.

“Cheeky,” he smirks back as he admires how your skin ripples under his touch, "not so fun when it's the other way around, is it?"

"Does that mean you're gonna beg for me now, then?" You ask hopefully.

Tom pushes your back down enough for him to lean over you entirely to be within whisper distance of your ear. You feel his cock pressing into the crack of your ass as he whimpers, "Oh, please, miss, let me fuck you into oblivion. 'M such a good boy f'you, been waiting all this time to show you, been thinking about this all along. Please give me what I want."

"Yeah?" You moan against your pillow. "Tell me as you're filling me up again."

You feel him start to line his cock up with your pussy from behind as he admits, "Think about the day you'd finally tell me to hang back. I'd sit you on the pool table and eat that sweet little pussy of yours 'til it stains it. Bend you over that bar - that you've been spending months teasing me behind - an' just -" He lets out a long, shaky breath as he pushes his tip inside of you, revelling in the feeling of your cunt immediately pulling him in for more.

"Please, Tom…" you whine. "'S all I think about when I'm closing, too. Can't look anywhere without thinking of how you'd fuck me," you admit half-sheepishly as you rock back onto him.

Tom's hips buck to meet yours as he groans. "God, I've been a fucking idiot, then, haven't I?" He half-laughs.

"'S fine, just - fuck me now, please? Just how you’ve always wanted to?" You beg, crying out in delight as he grabs your hips and starts thrusting frantically into you.

You've always thought it was cliche as all hell when people say that with the right person, it feels as though they're made for you - but Tom barely needs any direction from you to bring you to your apex. He feels right inside of you, he's hitting just the right spots at just the right pace, without you even needing to ask him. And the sounds he makes as he's fucking you, just the knowledge that you're clearly making him feel the same way, turns you on even more.

His moans become more strained, and his grip tightens. "Fuck, babe, need - need to feel you cum so I can - fuck, are you close?"

You whine out an, "Almost. I can get there quicker, though," you start shuffling to reach down between your legs, but Tom bats your hand away.

"Please, allow me," he smirks as he strokes your clit up and down.

"Such a gentleman," you tease, and he chuckles.

"Not much gentle about me, love," he purrs before rubbing your clit in deliberate, tight, fast circles, slapping your ass once more for good measure and practically losing himself inside of you when he feels how you clench around him at that.

When you climax, it's more intense than you've felt for a long time, if at all. You paint his cock in your juices, and he only just about manages to pull it out of you in time to spread warm spurts of thick cum against your ass.

You flop down onto the bed, still stomach first, in exhaustion, smiling wistfully at the feeling of Tom lightly dragging the tip of his cock through the strings of cum he's left on your ass cheeks. "Having fun back there?"

"Just sort of sinking in that it's really happened," he replies in a state of dazed happiness. "How you feeling?"

"Good," you smile back in the same tone, "so very good."

"Yeah?" he smirks proudly.

"Should probably clean up," you mutter into your pillow, "but I don't wanna move right now."

Tom laughs, "C'mon, let's see if we can share a shower without you trying to go for round two, eh?"

You sit up on your knees, pivoting to face him, and gasp in shocked offence, making him laugh even more. “Oh, if I can, eh? And what about you?!”

He leans in with a grin, holding you by the throat as he kisses you deeply, longingly. “I already know I can’t.”

Once you’re both stood up, the rest of the night catches up with you and you both spend a moment blinking at each other heavily and laughing in exhaustion. You do share a shower, but it’s tender, soft, intimate. Lots of gentle caressing and slow kisses as you bathe Tom in your signature scent, the two of you becoming as one.

When you’re all clean, dry, and snuggled in Tom’s arms in your bed, you sigh. He turns his head to rest his face against the top of your head, pressing a soft kiss to it as he asks, “What’s wrong, sweetness?”

“Don’t want to fall asleep, now. Means it’s over,” you mumble into his bare chest.

“What, d’you really think I’m gonna ghost you after this?!” Tom asks with amusement. “You’re stuck with me now, babe.”

“Oh, no(!) How terrible(!)” You joke, and Tom gasps.

“Cheeky!”

“Ah, can’t reach down to spank me now, can you?” You tease.

Tom hums sleepily, “Hmm, I’m keeping track in my head of what I owe you, don’t you worry,” and you giggle. “Y’know, this wasn’t really how I wanted to do things with you.”

“How’d you mean?”

Tom shuffles a little, “Well, y’know. The deal was only ever to get your number, at first. Then, I was gonna wow you with my excellent flirting skil- why’re you laughing?” He pokes the soft part of your side, tickling you and making you laugh even more. “Anyway, wanted to do it all… Y’know, proper. Wine and dine you, so you knew it was for real.”

You frown, tracing the freckles on his chest absent-mindedly. “Yeah, but you did do all that. You bought me a drink at the start… Bought me my burger… And I think I know how you feel about me well enough by this point,” you grin. “Just thought you’d earned a night of teasing me, for once. Don’t get too used to it, though.”

“Oh? Sounds like a challenge,” Tom smirks, and you laugh. He sighs happily, “I really do like you, by the way. Not just drunky Tom, an’ I wasn’t just trying to get you in bed, neither. Not that I’m complaining,” he squeezes you closer to him, smiling into your hair.

“I like you too, Mr Grant,” you tease back, looking up at him to kiss him. One kiss gets followed by another, and another. “Things just feel right with you, y’know?”

“Yeah, I do,” he replies wistfully. “Like… Not to bring up my ex, but being Ruth was just like… Doing it to get it over with, d’you know what I mean? Like we did because it’s a thing people do. But that was just fun, like we were having a laugh but it was so fucking good at the same time. ’M just sorry I only made you come the once, especially on your birthday. How inconsiderate, eh?!” he jokes, and you laugh so loudly that your hand flies up to your mouth, but Tom gently guides it back away, watching you with adoration.

“Trust me, that was plenty! If anything, I’m sorry I didn’t get to play with you more,” you go back to playing with his freckles.

“Right, so, plan is, we get up nice an’ early in the morning, you suck me off and then ride my face until you’ve had at least three orgasms, yeah?” Tom jokes.

Laughing, you offer, “Deal. If you’re still asleep when I wake up, I'll just get started and wait for you to catch up, shall I?"

"God, it's like you're in my brain," Tom shakes his head as you both fill the room with laughter.

“S’pose we should get some sleep then, shouldn’t we?” You suggest, shuffling around until you’re comfortable. He matches your posture easily, spooning you and wrapping you up in his embrace as he settles down next to you.

“G’night, love. Hope you enjoyed your birthday,” he muses in your ear.

“Definitely the best one yet.” You smile sleepily as you feel him lean over to kiss your cheek, and turn your head around to sneak in a few more kisses before finally falling asleep.

tagging a few people who might especially want to read, feel free to tell me if you don't want to be tagged <3: @keerysquinn @pedgito @babybluebex @reysorigins @keeponquinning

#tom grant #tom grant x reader #tom grant x you #tom grant imagine #tom grant fanfiction #tom grant fanfic #tom grant fic #tom make up #tom make up x reader #tom make up x you #tom make up imagine #tom make up fanfiction #tom make up fanfic #tom make up fic #*myfics #fic: tom g

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absolutewhore101 · 3 months

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Should've Said No - Chapter 4

A/N: sorry this one is so late! last week got busy very quickly, and i just didn't have the time to sit down and write this. i hadn't originally planned on writing this chapter, but the idea hit me in the car while i was driving earlier, so here we are. (hint at next chapter at the very end!)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Listen to 'Should've Said No' by Taylor Swift

Warnings: swearing, assholery

Word Count: 733 words

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

MINORS DNI

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Joel’s head slowly turned back to face you, a fire in his eyes you’d never seen directed at you.

Before he could open his mouth, you started talking again.

“Can you believe Joel? Everything we used to have - the songs, the smiles, the flowers - it’s all gone! All because you couldn’t keep it in your pants!”

“Is that all?”

“God, ugh! I just… I can’t even look at you.”

“Look, I’d take it back if I could. It was a moment of weakness and we both know that. Hell, what was I supposed to do?!”

“You should’ve said no! You should’ve thought twice, maybe with more than just your dick! I should’ve been there, right in the back of your mind, and I shouldn’t be standing here asking myself why the fuck you’d do this!”

Joel took a step forward, but Tommy stepped in the middle of you two.

“I wouldn’t get much closer to her.” He said, voice low.

“Oh for the love of god, Tommy. You knew, too! Don’t stand here and try to play hero when you knew damn well what was going on.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Tommy said, turning to face you, “but it wasn’t my place to say anything. That was between you and Joel, not me. I’m sorry.”

“No. No you don’t get to be sorry. Joel might’ve done this to me, but you didn’t even try to help. You could’ve tried talking to him, you could’ve stopped him, you could’ve just told me! But instead you let this go on, knowing how much it would hurt me.”

Tommy’s eyes landed on the ground in front of your feet, his hands on his hips.

When he looked up again, tears were streaming down your cheeks.

“Baby, c’mon…” Joel trailed off.

You shook your head, taking a step back from the two of them.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that we could ever be the same? After everything you put me through?”

Joel shook his head. “We don’t gotta be the same, we just gotta work through this and come out better on the other side. We can do that, can’t we?”

“No. You should’ve known that I would’ve found out eventually. I’m not stupid, y’know. Even if you hadn’t been so obvious about it, someone would’ve told me eventually.”

“Was she worth it?” Tommy said, breaking the tense silence that had settled between the three of you.

“Excuse me?” Joel answered.

“Tommy.” You said sternly. “This isn’t your place, you’ve made that pretty clear.”

“Might not be my place, but that doesn't mean I can’t ask him what the hell he was thinking.” Tommy turned around to face Joel, stepping into his space.

Joel held his eye, bringing his arms up to cross his arms over his chest.

“You wanna do this right now? Right in front of her?”

“I don’t think I’m the one who deserves an apology.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, slowly nodding his head.

“I don’t think she wants to hear my apology. Do you?”

You thought about it. An apology wouldn’t undo what he did, but wouldn’t it give you some kind of closure? Or was your closure the end of your relationship?

You shrugged your shoulders. “Well, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

You gave him a smug smirk, watching him shake his head.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway. Happy?”

“No. But as long as you don’t step foot in my house again I will be.”

Tommy nodded his head.

“You can move into a new house tomorrow. Why don’t you stay with Carly tonight? I’m sure she’d love it.” Tommy gave him a smirk, watching Joel’s hands clenched into fists by his side.

Joel stalked off without another word, heading for the house just a few down from your own.

“Motherfucker.” You muttered, and Tommy chuckled.

Tommy looked over his shoulder at you, something akin to sympathy in his eyes.

“Can I walk you home?”

“Absolutely not. You’re not off the hook just because you made a stand against Joel. It’s gonna take a lot more than that if you ever want to be friends again.” You told him, pushing past him and walking towards your house.

As you closed your front door behind you, you couldn’t help but ask yourself - why couldn’t he just be a better man?

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#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #x reader #tlou x reader #tommy miller #ellie williams #pedro pascal x reader #taylor swift title series #Spotify

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sweet-s0rr0w · 8 months

Text

Microfic: I Must Be Lonely

A late birthday microfic, written for the wonderful @getawayfox (look, it balances out @wolfpants' gift which was a couple of weeks early, alright? That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.) Happy happy birthday to fandom's loveliest quadruple threat (writer, artist, reccer, beta/cheerreader). I hope you had a brilliant day! <3

T, 1.8k, no warnings. @drarrymicrofic prompt Simple. Thanks to @tackytigerfic for Irish picking and usual brilliance. This one is also for everyone else who hates night shifts!

Another night shift at the Ministry security desk. If boredom doesn’t get you, the vampires probably will, Draco thinks, sourly. That’s at least half exaggeration, though: Sanguini and his colleagues are always impeccably behaved, hurrying between meetings with barely a glint of incisor on show. But the boredom: now that part’s no joke. Nothing much happens in the Ministry after hours – by midnight, even the most dedicated workaholics have reluctantly ducked into the Floo, leaving Draco to his books, or his fantasy Quidditch, or (briefly and unsuccessfully) his crochet. Sometimes he gets lucky – a disaster necessitating the presence of the on-call Mishaps and Maladies team at the Ministry, perhaps, or an international visitor who’s messed up the time difference – but for the most part it’s lonely work.

Every night, Draco watches as two of the house elves work their slow, methodical way across the Atrium floor from either end, mopping and polishing and casting anti-slip charms until they meet just in front of his desk, some time around five o’clock. Things always get better after that, with the sun rising in the charmed windows and the slow downhill slide until six-thirty, that blessed hour when Draco mumbles his greetings to the day staff, pulling the hood of his robes up to cover his tired eyes, and slopes off towards the Floos.

Midnight until five, then, that’s the difficult time. That’s the hungry but nauseous time, the clammy but shivery time, the grumpy, gloomy, desperately weary time. Helpfully, it’s often the time the morons from the DMLE show up, high on adrenaline and testosterone and god knows what department-approved stimulants, and often, inexplicably, looking to chat utter rubbish.

“Hey! Everyone, look, it’s Malfoy!” bellows Finnigan, his voice rattling through Draco’s skull after three hours of total silence. He marches up to Draco’s desk, at the head of a group of what might appear, at first glance, to be drunken teenagers, but which Draco knows is actually made up of fairly senior Aurors. “How’re things, Malfoy? Ministry treating you well, I hope?”

Draco straightens his robes, shoving his folded up copy of the Prophet out of sight.

“It’s been a good day, Malfoy,” Finnigan continues, clearly not interested in waiting for Draco’s response. “A bloody good day, you know?” His grin is wide and toothy as he thumps his clenched fist against his chest and flings his head back. “Another victory in the fight for truth and justice, and all that’s―”

“Alright, Seamus,” says a voice from the back of the crowd. “Leave him alone, yeah?”

“Hey! Harry! Here’s the hero of the hour! C’mere.” Finnigan tucks a firm arm around Potter’s neck, pulling him forwards, until he’s shoved up against the front of the reception desk, smiling apologetically. “See,” says Finnigan, and his pupils are barely visible when he leans closer, “another bunch of Muggle-hating scumbags behind bars, and it’s all thanks to Hazza here. Good triumphs over evil again, and the world—”

“—hang on Seamus, isn’t that stuff classified?” cuts in Longbottom – who, as far as Draco can tell, is still every bit as much fun as he’d been at school.

“Oh, give over, Neville,” Finnigan spits, mercifully turning away from Draco, “I didn’t say who it was, did I? Classified would be if I’d said oi, Malfoy, d’you know they’re running a Muggle fighting ring out the back of the Reaper’s Arms—?” There’s a collective groan. “What?”

“You’re such a twat, Seamus,” says a short-haired witch next to Neville, folding her arms.

“Oh, I’m a twat, am I?”

“Yeah. You are.”

Then someone else starts up, voices crowding over each other in an unbearable racket. Draco rests back in his chair, closing his eyes, his tired mind picturing the little yapping Crups that Mother’s friend Verity used to bring over; the ones Mother pretended to coo over even while they left puddles of piss on the Persian carpet.

A shadow falls across his desk: it’s Potter, leaning forwards, blocking out the harsh glare of Lumos off the wall tiles. When Draco blinks and looks up, he finds that Potter’s shivering a little, his hair damp and stuck to his forehead. “Sorry about that lot,” he says, softly. “You know how they can get.”

“It’s fine,” Draco says, tightly. “Nice work on the, er, Muggle fighting stuff. Sounds pretty impressive.”

“Oh, cheers,” says Potter, with a shrug. “Just doing my job, you know how it is.”

Draco looks down at his desk: the bonsai yew that reminds him of home, his stupid cheap silver-plated letter-opener-cum-emergency-vampire-repellent, the battered copy of Birdsong he’s been slogging through for two months straight. “Not really,” he replies, shrugging.

“Ah, you’re not missing much. Five minutes of excitement, tops; I’d take a good Seeker’s game over that any day. But, you know—” he glances back over his shoulder, “—truth, and freedom, and all that rousing stuff from the superhero films Seamus watches. How’s your shift going, anyway?”

“Not bad,” Draco says, sitting up taller, sliding the Prophet back into view. “By the way, who’ve you got down for third Chaser? I’m stuck between Lyons and Campos.”

“You should go with Beni, definitely. Ollie’s been raving about his form all summer.” Potter leans over even further into Draco’s space, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he squints down at the page. “You got Chang down for Keeper?”

“McFarlane.”

“McFarlane?” Potter laughs, incredulously. “Seriously? Bloody Magpies fans. Completely deluded, the lot of you.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “Well, Potter, I guess we’ll see.”

There’s a scuffle in the background, followed by cheers. “Coming, Harry?” Finnigan calls, wiping blood from his lip. “Hey, Malfoy, we’re heading out after this. It’s House night at XPulso; they’ve got three for ones on Rusty Nails, and we’re going to get Harry here laid.”

Harry stiffens, his eyes widening. “Er—”

“Yeah, I’ve got your back, mate. Maybe we can sort Neville out too, if anyone’ll have him.”

“I’m married, you knob!”

“You should really come along, Malfoy. It’ll be a laugh.”

Potter, still with his back to Finnigan, makes a faint choking sound.

“Sadly, Finnigan,” says Draco, trying to avoid Potter’s eyes, “I’m afraid I’m stuck at this desk for the foreseeable. But you lot have a great time. It sounds… memorable.”

Finnigan just shrugs. “Ah, your loss. C’mon then, boys.”

“Boys?”

“It’s just an expression, Davis, what d’you—”

They’re off, finally, all backslaps and hooting laughter, and no-one’s looking at Draco anymore, which is a small mercy. Potter reaches down to steal a crisp from the unopened packet at the back of the desk. “Anyway,” he says, mouth full, breath salt-and-vinegar scented, “’s been good to see you, Dra – Malfoy.”

“Yeah,” says Draco, glumly, and he hates himself for envying them all. “You too.”

***

Draco tries not to think about Potter, he really does. It’s hard, though, not to wonder what he’s doing – who he’s dancing with, where he’s sleeping – when all you’ve got for the night’s entertainment is Miffy and Jinks, a dodgy alarm on Level Five, and yesterday’s Prophet. He dithers for a while over his Fantasy Quidditch choices, trying to pretend he doesn’t care what Potter thinks, then Diffindos the completed page carefully out of the newspaper and tucks it into his pocket. Both house elves make it across the floor without incident. Through the window behind his desk, Draco watches the sun begin to rise over Salisbury Plain, as slowly, grudgingly, night gives way to day.

“You off?”

It’s his replacement; showered and shaven and far too bright. Draco nods grimly at him.

“Anything to report?”

“Nothing.” He gets to his feet, rolling his shoulders and renewing the Protego on his tree, grateful, as always, for the speed and convenience of the Floo. Five minutes from desk to bed, via blackout charms and a good Silencio; that’s the way to do it.

Something’s off today, though – Draco can tell, as soon as he lands, drained and unsteady, on his hearth. The heating’s already on, for one – he can’t see his breath in the air, which is a welcome change – and hang on… is that the smell of bacon? His nausea evaporates, instantly, as he follows his nose, half in a dream, only to find—

“Morning.”

Potter’s standing by the hob, grinning, and the flat’s a little more smoky than usual, but there’s eggs frying, and sausages on the grill, and just then the toast pops up and, well, Draco could just about kiss him right now.

So he does.

“Oh my god,” he says, when Potter pulls away, popping a crispy bit of bacon into Draco’s mouth instead.

“Good?”

“Oh my god,” Draco says again, salt flooding his mouth. “But what – what are you doing here?”

“Well, I was up all night too. You’re sleeping today, I’m sleeping today – I thought, well, this way at least we get to sleep together properly for once. And I know how hungry you get after night shifts. Here.”

Dizzy with tiredness, or the cooking fumes, or possibly something else entirely, Draco takes the ketchup over to the table, then slumps down hard into a chair. Potter brings over the plates, pulls his own chair in close.

They eat in comfortable silence, and it’s only once Draco’s blissfully full of sausages and buttered toast and beautifully seasoned egg, that he finally works up the courage to speak. “So Seamus’ efforts failed, I take it?” he says, lightly.

Potter snorts. “Shut up,” he mumbles, through a mouthful of beans. “Seamus passed out after the second round of shots. The rest of my night was spent escorting him back to his cousin's house on the Knight Bus. Why,” he says, grinning, “were you actually worried?

“Of course not,” Draco replies, too quickly, then sips his orange juice to try and disguise the lie.

“That’s good. Because I want to tell them, Draco.”

Draco freezes, glass in hand.

“No, I mean it,” Potter says, dropping his knife to take hold of Draco’s forearm. The Mark aches like a bruise, but beneath Potter’s fingers, the pain’s almost sweet. “Look, you know what those shifts are like; you know how they make you feel. The raid, and then getting everything wrapped up, and then seeing you at that bloody desk – the last thing I wanted was other people’s hands on me, Draco. All I could think about was how sick I am of acting the part, of pretending I’m interested, when what I’m really interested in is…” He gestures at the room, at their plates, then, finally, at Draco. “This. You.”

“I—” Draco begins, and if his voice is a bit wobbly, well, he can blame that on the tiredness, can’t he? Beside him, Potter's resumed blithely eating his bacon, eyes heavy-lidded, as though nothing he’s said was at all out of the ordinary. Draco swallows. “They’ll say you’ve lost your mind,” he says, pressing his socked foot against the knob of Potter’s ankle.

Potter nudges him back. “Well, maybe I have. Working nights will do that, after all.”

#drarry #ss writes #happy birthday el!#god i am shit with deadlines #forgive me please

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lovingelegance · 2 years

Text

Camboy Monday AU (🎊Event)

Twitter Links + Short Scenarios!

Summary of this event : You’re a cam person in this AU and when going live, you feature the genshin boys in them! I also tried to include some people I didn’t before in my last event so enjoy!(Once again, be prepared because I’m not including everything that’s in here…)

Characters, AlHaitham, Ayato, Childe, Kaeya, Pantalone, Scaramouche, Heizou, Thoma, and Xiao.

Side note : Oh my god. Id like to thank everyone who’s liked and read my posts, and I’d like to thank the people who follow me! I also can’t forget to thank my Anons!! Thank you so much for the support I really appreciate it, like I really do. Cheers to hitting 100 followers! 🥂

Before we start, sorry for my grammar mistakes! (If I have any) 🫶

❗️Also you need a Twitter account to view most of these links!!

❕ AlHaitham

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Cum, slut! Featuring, @|D3ndr0Wh0r3”

“You’ve got some pretty moans..” You say while pumping his cock nonstop. AlHaitham moaned harder, the chat rushed in, “Of course he does!” One person says, “Yeah, pretty slutty moans.” Another person commented. You smiled under the mask and began to stroke his cock more roughly. “Ple-Please..!” He whined out, you act confused for a second. “Please what babe?” You said gently, “I need y-your cock/strap in me!!” He cried out. You pulled his hair and went quicker.

“Oh yeah?” You say switching your tone instantly. Tears rolled down AlHaitham’s face, “Yesyes! Ah- Fuck—!” Pre-cum leaked from his cock as you shoved your cock/strap in him. His whole body tensing up. “Feels- amazing!!~” He cried out once again. His eyes rolling back and he took the pleasure you gave him. Fuck, seeing the expressions he’s making made you feel intense lust. Almost as if it was spreading all over your body. “I bet it does, doesn’t it?”

~🌱

❕Ayato

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Cock Whore. Featuring, @|S1yS1ut”

“Take all of my cock you Whore.” You say demandingly. “Yes!- thank you!!” Ayato exclaimed. He bobbed his head on your cock/strap, he slightly gagged. The chat were cheering him on to take all of it in his mouth, praising him for being able to take all of your cock/strap in his mouth. You were reading the chat out loud to him, “They’re praising you for how well your taking in my cock, say thank you.” You say grabbing a fist full of hair of Ayato’s. A muffled thank you came out of his mouth.

“This angle is perfect!” You saw someone say. Ayato was riding you. You could see his cock, as well as his ass now taking your cock this time around. “Shit, he really is a fucking whore!!” Another comment appeared. When Ayato read that comment, he almost came right there and then. “Nngh..- ‘m gonna cum!~” you nodded your head signaling he could cum. Ayato came as his semen dropped down onto your chest.

~🧋

❕Childe

Link Link

❗️ Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Bitch Boy!! Featuring, @|Pain4Me”

You slapped his ass real hard. Hard enough to get a imprint of your hand on his ass. “I bet you like that, huh?” You say while slapping him again. Childe whimpered, “I do! I do!” He said desperately. The chat was in awe of his desperation. Degrading him just how he liked. “You’re so fucking pathetic!” These mean words only added more fuel to the fire. He let out a strangled moan in response. You continued to slap his ass while giving him the most disgusted look you can ever give.

“Mmm..! Ah!- Shit~” he was gripping the arm rests of the chair. His drool seeped from his mouth. You stroked his cock just the way he loved. Childe’s eyes were now rolling back. The chat went crazy it. “He looks so hot while doing it?!” “Fuck, this type of sub makes me go crazy..” you smirk. It looks like you reached your target audience with Childe. You couldn’t believe how much Sadists were behind the screen watching, but at least they were enjoying this lovely view.

~🐳

❕Kaeya

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Surprise! Featuring @|Pr1nceSS”

Now, Kaeya was very very popular. You didn’t expect him to have an account on this website, but here you were. Now fucking him. The chat flooded, they were all surprised. Their favorite dominate creator and sub creator doing a collaboration.. “Who would’ve thought? I’m not complaining though, there both so sexy.” A compliment along with a donation. “Thank you so much!!~” Kaeya said with a thoughtful look on his face, soon that look was wiped off as you fingered him.

Kaeya moaned out as he rode your fingers. Making the sluttiest noises possible from his mouth. “Before taking my cock in we should prep you with more than my fingers.. right?” You suggested. He was open to the idea but the dildo was larger than the normal sizes he used. “Ah- O-Okay..” he stuttered. You guided him onto the dildo, he whined out. “Oh my!— th-this is stretching me out..~” Kaeya said seductively. “If that stretched you out, then I wonder how you’ll do when you take me.” Maybe you should collaborate with him more often you thought to yourself.

~✨

❕Pantalone

Link Link

❗️ Scenario Beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“So humiliating. Featuring, @|1and0nly”

“UHGH!- I’ll be a good w-whore for you!!~~” You pulled his hair, and fucked him roughly. “Do you know how many times people have told me that?!” You say harshly. What you said was true, but you knew he liked getting told those type of things. “I’ll be better- wait-! Better th-than the others! I swearr~!”he says while getting drunk on the pleasure. “You’re so fucking greedy. Such a greedy whore.” The chat was going crazy. The way you said it made everyone feel some type of way. The way that Pantalone’s eagerness sparked something in them.

“Yess..!! Hah—” You tugged on the leash. You read his collar one last time before going back in to fuck him. “Number 1’s Best Whore” you giggle a bit, but not loud enough that the people who were watching you can hear it. “You really are something.” You say watching him closely. Pantalone looked away, embarrassed. “Fuck I love that embarrassed expression of his.. it’s so fucking beautiful!” A person said in the chat. You read it aloud to him and made him cum on the spot.

~💰

❕Scaramouche

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[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Maybe, Good Boy? Featuring, @|G00DBRAT”

“You know, you look pretty good in handcuffs don’t you think?” You say while sweeping the hair from his face. The chat agreed with you, saying all sorts of dirty compliments. “You.. you really think- so?” He says blushing hard. You nod and caressed his cheek. You gazed at him and made out with him. Suddenly, the kisses turned into sloppy ones and a competition to fight for dominance. Of course, we all knew who was going to win but Scaramouche still dared to challenge you.

Lifting up his skirt to show his panties, the chat were amazed with this. This was a rare moment. He practically begged. You wanted to see that adorable look of his during this round and keep it. You wanted to hear him beg aloud for the viewers to see it and cherish it. “I’ll touch you when you beg for it.” You whispered, just loud enough so the viewers could tell what you were whispering about. “Pl-Please.. P-Please touch me..~” he says cutely. Oh you were going to do some unspeakable thing to him after he said that.

~⚡️

❕Heizou

Link Link

❗️Scenario beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Good Job! Featuring, @|S3CR3T6”

He knew how to push your buttons, but now.. You were pushing his. You denied his release. Every single time he said he was going to cum or said he was cumming you stopped your actions. “Why- Why?!” He cried out. You stopped again, grabbing his chin. “Why what darling?” You asked him. He hesitated but decided to talk back. “Why are y-you stopping everything when I say I’m going to cum..?” He responded. “Don’t worry, in the end it will all be worth it. Okay?~” you say sweetly. It’s as if he forgot about that part for a second.

“Fuck cumming, cumming—!” His semen goes all over his thighs. His eyes roll back and he throws his head back. “Now.. I finally let you cum. You satisfied?” You teasingly said. He nodded his head, though you had something else in store. “Well, sense you wanted to cum so bad the other times.. let’s see how many times I can make you cum.” He was shocked, but he should’ve expected this to happen. The only thing now is to prepare for the time of his life.

-📖

❕Thoma

Link Link

❗️ Scenario Beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Puppy Like, Featuring, @|MA1D4U”

The chat hasn’t seen him in a while, though they loved him. They loved how innocent he seemed but in reality he was just another cheap slut begging for your cock/strap. “I love the maid outfit!<33” “sososo cuteee” you laughed reading the comments. “They all really like your outfit for today..” you murmured. “Too bad were gonna ruin it today~” saying in a low tone. That made Thoma shiver. Shit, he hasn’t been turned on like that for a while. You knew all the spots to make him feel good.

“Mmph—! Uh~!” He whimpered out, spilling cum all over his maid dress. You soon got him on his back and fingered him. “Does that feel good sweetheart?” You ask him. “AH! yesyes-!!” He moaned out. “How can they do it that fast?!” A person in the chat said. You just tilted your head and gave the viewers a smile through your eyes. Even though they couldn’t see it behind your mask, they could tell you were smiling. “Ohh~! I think ‘m gonna c-cum again!” You turned your attention to Thoma and signaled for him to cum.

~🧹

❕ Xiao

Link Link

❗️Scenario Beneath

[Notification]

SubVar13ty is 🔴 Live!

“Very cute! Featuring, @|Alat0z”

“Ahh.. I see why my viewers like you so much.” You say with a smug look on your face. Xiao was all tied up and was in feminine clothes. At first he didn’t like this idea at all. Now he loves it and so does the chat. “Holy shit he’s so cute.” “The titles not wrong!!” He has a skirt and long socks on. You took off his shirt earlier because you felt like he didn’t need to hide his chest. He moaned out as the vibrator buzzed onto his cock and in his ass. “Such a good boy. Unlike some others.” You laughed.

“Aww you’re such a good boy for me aren’t you?” You say as you see him obeying your every order. Xiao wasn’t like the others. He wanted to hear your praise every second, and is willing to do anything for that. The viewers called him precious. “Mhm!” He said while looking at you with puppy eyes. Fuck. That look of his is quite powerful but he doesn’t even know that. “Let me reward you, I think you deserve it honey.” You coo. You stroke his hair and made him go on all fours.

-🌌

Y’all im so tired, but I hope you guys enjoyed!!

My requests are open <3 Sorry if I don’t get to your request right now, I’ll get to it as soon as possible!

3K notes · View notes

sandinthemachine · 1 year

Note

ahh omg if your requests are open then please 🙏 getting fucked by könig in his ghillie suit, he'd be sweet too, making sure your face is shielded from the ground while he fucks into you

Here she is. I know you asked for sweet but he took over my brain and became a cocky bastard, I hope that sweetness is still under there somewhere

I did actual sniper research for this for some reason and the more I know the more I am sure babygirl would have been a terrible sniper

anyways here goes, come get your sweaty sweaty smut

Words: uhh like 1900

“How long do these things take?” König groans beside you, shifting so his shoulder bumps yours for the fourth time in the past five minutes.

“Eh, a few days, give or take.”

“A few…no, you’re fucking with me.”

You huff. “I’m convinced you didn’t even slightly research what being a sniper meant before you applied for it.”

“If I had known it would be this boring I never would have wanted it in the first place.” He groans, elbowing you in the gut as he wriggles in the tiny space below the bush. Well, not that tiny. It just felt tiny with a giant man who couldn’t sit still to save his life trapped in there with you.

A bone-deep sigh escapes you as you try to let it go. It’s not his fault your normal partner is out on medical leave right now. And it’s you who should have known better than to volunteer him as replacement. It feels stupid now, but you remembered thinking he would like getting to be a sniper for once. That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?

He twitches again, managing to perfectly kick the bone in your ankle.

Thank god this isn’t his normal job.

“Hey, König?”

“Hmm?”

“I can watch the scope on my own. It’s probably going to be awhile. Do you have anything to do with your hands?”

He groans. “I left my whittling knife at base.”

“Here, use mine. It’s on my belt, can you reach?”

He nods, the fabric of his ghillie suit shuffling over yours as he reaches across you, fingers running over your waist as he reaches under the fabric to withdraw the tool.

You gulp at the unexpected contact. Hoping he didn’t notice, you turn your attention back to the field below. You don’t catch the swift glance he gives you, nor the way he shifts to bring his hips off the ground.

It takes König less than twenty minutes to demolish the piece of wood he brought. He doesn’t even carve anything, he just shaves it to shreds, narrowly missing his fingers countless times as you try not to watch.

He tucks the blade away, brushing the shavings aside.

You stifle another sigh, counting down in your head. Wait for it.

He wriggles, trying to scoot into a comfier position and banging the bones of his hip right into your side. You growl, pushing your gun forward and twisting to face him.

“How the hell do you get anything done?”

He scoffs. “Because I know how to do things quickly.”

“Yeah, because I’m sure ramming into things solves every problem.”

He snorts.

“What is it now?”

König leans over, mask nearly pressing against yours. “It’s solved your problems plenty of times.”

“You’re full of yourself, you know that?”

He chuckles, the soft sounds nearly disguising the way you know he’s smirking under that hood. “Yeah?” His voice drops to a whispering snarl. “Tell me you don’t like it.”

“I…ugh, I’m trying to focus here.”

He snickers, the sound spreading up your spine as he hooks a leg over your hips, pressing against your side. “How long did you say these things usually take?”

Your eyes widen. “They’re giving us…72 hours this time.”

“Well, I’d say that gives us…” he shuffles, checking his watch. “71 hours. I think we might…juust barely have time.”

“Psht. You couldn’t last that long if you tried.”

“Careful, little one,” he croons. “I thought you were trying to focus here.”

You grab a fistful of the fabric around his chest, yanking him impossibly closer. “Are you just gonna talk this entire time?”

“Now who’s impatient?”

You huff, opening your mouth to retort, but a calloused index finger presses on your lips through the suit.

“Shh,” he commands breathily, mouth hovering next to your ear. “Watch the scopes. And tell me…” he lifts himself up, maneuvering so he can press his entire body against your back, the hard length of him rubbing into your tailbone. “Which do you want first? My fingers…or my tongue?”

“Both,” you retort smugly.

He snorts. “Greedy little thing. Guess I’ll have to choose then.”

His hand slides down your side, fingers feeling through the leaves of the suit to find the seam. He pulls up your shirt, his hand dancing across your bare hip, the combination of skin and fabric sending a shiver over you before his fingers hook under your pants and underwear, yanking them down to expose you for him.

You inhale, covering your mouth with a palm as the cool air brushes over your bare skin.

He squeezes your flesh, a muffled squeal escaping your mouth. Your skin heats up at his self-satisfied hum, his warm hand sliding in between your thighs as his thumb just barely brushes over your slit.

You buck into him, needy and impatient, but he humors you this time, sliding his hand up so the length of his thumb presses against you, the rough tip rubbing into your clit. You gulp, squirming at the sudden pressure, only for him to push his thumb against you harder just as he drops more of his weight onto you.

You gasp as your shoulders give out, his forearm sliding under your head as he pins your torso to the ground. You bury your face in the fabric, swallowing a moan as he slides a finger into you.

“Are you watching?”

You bite your tongue, shakily raising your head to bring an eye to your scope. He adds another finger, lazily pumping them in and out, and your vision blurs as you focus on holding back a whimper.

Your willpower, however, is crumbling faster than you care to admit as his fingers work into you. The crisp stalks of grass waving in the sights slide into each other, morphing into subtly flowing waves, perfectly mimicking the pattern of tremors you feel tracing the edges of your bones, lapping up your spine and pulling your muscles into their undertow.

“K-König, I’m-”

“I know.” His head tucks into your neck as your face falls to his arm again, teeth tangling in the rough fabric of your own mask. Gunpowder and smoke and metal-sharp tangs explode across your tongue as your own body halts and stutters, trapped beneath him.

A wave of magma flows up your back, caged by the suit and his body above you so that it continues to crash against your skin, sending another tremulous whimper past your lips.

Finally you lift your head again, struggling to reach once again for the scope as your neck shakes. His arm shifts, a palm pressing into your jaw and lifting upwards as long fingers grasp easily along either side of your face. You relax, eyes half-closing as you let him take the weight of your head.

You breathe his name again as his fingers leave you, his entire suit rustling as he lifts himself up.

Searing heat licks at every corner of your being and still you tremble, back arching into the weight of him as he finally frees himself. He sighs, pulling back just enough, and then his velvety head is catching at your entrance, the shadowy edges of your vision closing in as he thrusts himself into you, stretching you until you feel you might burst at the seams, that perhaps the suit wrapped around you is the only tape holding you together.

Scraps of fabric brush against your bare skin as he sinks in deeper, tickling as they slide up you. Your fingers tighten into his arm, and it’s his turn to quiver as his own soft skin meets yours, his chest pressing into your back once again.

He’s buried in your neck now, hand tight against the crook between your jaw and throat, and you wonder if he can even breathe there, you’re barely breathing yourself, but he answers you with a great heaving inhale, as if he can pull you into his lungs and hold you there.

And then he lifts his head again, hips rolling against you. Once. Twice. Again. And with each motion a moan filters through his mask.

You want to hear him. You want him to be louder, to scream for you, to tell you how good you feel. Yes, that’s exactly what you want.

But not here. No, you can’t do that here.

“König, you have to be quiet.”

“I know, I know,” he pants. “It’s just…” he presses his face into your shoulder, burying another whimper in the shaggy fabric. “Stop clenching, stop or I’m never…I’m never gonna last.”

“And I…I thought you said…we’d be going for days.”

He hisses, hand clamping over your mouth as his hips ruck against you harder, your pitiful whine absorbed by his palm. He chuckles, a subtle shaking of his body you feel directly in your core. “And here you are telling me to be quiet.”

You make an angry sound, biting at his palm until he pulls back.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

As soon as you open your mouth he drives into you again, dragging roughly along every sensitive spot inside you. All that comes out of you is a choked gasp, hands scrabbling on the ground in front of you.

“Yeah,” he breathes, a huff of amusement bursting from his lips. “That’s what I thought.”

Then his hand is on the column of your throat once more, still holding you up, nearly taunting the way your gaze still hovers over your scope, all tendrils of clarity gone.

You screw your eyes shut, watching the sparks throw themselves against your eyelids until even they are blurred and everything draws itself up tight within you, impossibly tense and white-hot.

His hand is over your mouth now, just in time to halt the scream that reverberates along the thick sludge of your mind as flares of new heat overtake you.

He drags his other arm under you, gluing you to him as he settles as deep as he can go, a mess of staggered syllables shaking his jaw and curling over your ears as his warmth spreads within your own, burning and soothing all at once.

He settles against you, the pleasant heaviness of his form grounding you through the last aftershocks, holding you up as your own muscles remember how to do it themselves.

Your vision is focused now, eyes once again glued to your scope even though König still drapes himself over you. He’s long gone soft inside of you, his entire body languid and motionless.

He’s finally still. Maybe he’s asleep.

You giggle at that, and a muffled groan rattles his throat.

“What was that?”

He raises his head, leaning his face into your temple. “Whadiddi miss?”

You giggle again, reaching back to hold his head, but catch movement in your sight. An outline familiar from a dozen mission reports ignites every instinct within you, and your hands are already tilting your gun, eyes watching the way the grass waves. Left. Just slightly. You move your scope slightly to the right, raising it up to account for the distance.

The man turns, exposing his torso.

“König.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop breathing.”

“What-?”

“Hold your breath. Now.”

He inhales as you do, your crosshairs stilling as you feel your heartbeats, timing the pauses between them.

Thump.

Bang.

Red sprays onto the ground below. The target stumbles backwards, glancing down, and with devastating realization, falls.

And inside of you, König hardens again.

I have decided to try a taglist, and will be sorting that out later today. Deadly Nightshade will be getting its own masterlist and a separate taglist, so if you want to be on that one you can comment there (if you already have, you're good).

If you want to be on the general taglist, message me or comment on this post. I cannot always sort through all the reblogs, but comments and messages I can sort through more easily.

Have a lovely day/night :)

#könig #könig x reader #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2

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emmyrosee · 2 years

Text

Kiyoomi thinks play fighting is childish.

Fairly standard things, he knows Meian and his partners do it, and he knows atsumu has a track record of losing to Hinata, Bokuto is notoriously playful after a big win, but it never appealed to Kiyoomi like it does them, and in turn, they know better than to test and try his patience.

Unfortunately, for Kiyoomi it seems you don’t get that same message.

It wasn’t his fault Meian needed him so suddenly, messing up the dates for their new sizing for the team jerseys, and he doesn’t want to leave and more than you don’t want him to, but Kiyoomi must oblige for his career’s sake, and for the love of the gods, where the hell did he put his keys-

“Oh, you haven’t left yet?” You hum brattily, and Kiyoomi feels the vein in his head throb.

“No,” he grumbles, a hand carding back his curls as he stands up straight. “Baby, you haven’t seen my keys have you? I could’ve sworn I’d left them-“

“Oh- you mean these keys?” There’s a jingle that prompts the end of your tease, and goosebumps of irritation rise from his skin.

“For fucks sake,” he groans, finally turning to face you. “I’ve been looking all over the place for them, why would you take them?”

“Because I don’t want you to leave,” you shrug, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Which it was, but he’s never going to let you know that.

“Give me my keys, I’m going to be-“

“No.”

His brows shot up in surprise, taken aback by your defiance for his demand. “What do you mean ‘no?’” He snips, taking a step towards you, and snarling when you take one back confidently. In reality, there’s a feeling brewing in his gut at your words, almost like an excitement and eagerness for a challenge. He doesn’t want you to see it though, he’s an adult and there’s no reason for such an emotional response to come from your audacity.

“I’m sorry, what letter is tripping you up?” You say, a mocking brow cocking upwards as you jingle his keys in your fingers. “N. O.”

Oh, you’re so in for it.

“Watch yourself,” he snarls, but the glimmer in his onyx eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and it makes you lick your teeth in excitement. But there’s absolutely nothing, no warning, no thoughts that could prepare him for the low, snarky little words that fall from your lips next.

“Make me.”

“You little brat,” he growls, but he’s unable to fight the smirk on his lips as he drops his bag and absolutely sprints towards you, relishing in your screams as you try to run fast and far from him. He’s an athlete, surely you must’ve known he’d catch up to you, but even if you do, you cackle and shriek in surprise when long fingers grip the back of your shirt and positively yanks you back towards him, threads popping and your legs kicking wildly to escape. It’s unsuccessful, and he’s on full adrenaline and excitement when he pulls you up and over his shoulder, fists banging into his back.

“Since when are you so strong!” You whine around cackles.

“I can physically lift and move Bokuto, you think you’re a problem for me?” His answer comes quick and in-between pants, his cheeks hurt from the grin that splits his face, and even before you can beg and plead for giggly mercy, he hauls you into the bedroom.

He tosses you carelessly enough on the bed to have you scrambling to face him, your eyes glimmering from laughing so much. His heart squeezes, and if he weren’t on absolute adrenaline right now, he would’ve bent down and kissed the giggles out of your mouth.

But alas, he holds himself back and instead, when he lowers his hands to try and grab his keys, yours bat them away, the keys stabbing his knuckles one too many times for his liking.

“Oh you fucking-“ he growls as he flips you back onto your belly to face away from him again, and when you try to flip over with your free arm, he knocks the weight out from under you, pinning the arm without the keys behind your back, the arm with the keys flailing for freedom over the edge of the bed.

“Omi!” You whine around howls of laughter, your arm bent in an awkward angle, but you’re not fighting back as rough as he’d expect, and he takes it as a sign you’re still having fun. He snarls and moves your arm higher up your back to ease the tension, and you merely bury your face in the mattress as you cackle.

Then, a massive paw claps a playful smack on your ass, and he absolutely loves the sound of your shocked scream. “Kiyoomi!” You scold, head whipping around but the grin on your face still beaming wildly. You’re clearly surprised to see him in such a state, but he can tell just by the body language that you love it. “Don’t do that!”

He smirks, “you gonna give me my keys?”

“No! You promised me- OW!”

Another rough smack lands on your butt, and your legs kick out with a giggly “stop it!” to which he prompts another smack. Then, a squeeze to your hips to make you writhe and shriek at the ticklishness. And one final slap when he hears the clatter of his keys hitting the floor.

After deeming you punished enough, Kiyoomi releases you to curl up and giggle on yourself, his pulse beating wildly from the adrenaline and exhilaration pulsing through his blood stream. “Don’t test me again, brat.” He cards back his curls and makes his way over to the dropped keys, and he crouched down to pick them up, planting a kiss on your head as he stands back up. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Who knew the impenetrable Sakusa Kiyoomi could be so playful?” You hum, smiling innocently up at him. He gives you a deadpanned stare and a flick to your head to make you whine.

“Come back to me, ‘kay?” You whisper, sitting up and pouting you lips out for another kiss. He rolls his eyes and complies, a large hand tenderly stroking your jawline, and lips whispering a soft “of course,” against yours.

“I’ll always come back to you… even if you are the bane of my existence.”

——-

@meloomi IM SO SORRY I HAD TO TAG YOU, IF I GO DOWN YOURE COMIN WITH ME-

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 4 months

Text

Sometime Dreamers (crossover fic)

Summary: Doctor Who/Sandman crossover, 2nd person femme/female reader (though it's very vague through most of the story)

A/N: Launching this monstrosity as part of the Winter Solstice Writing Event even though I spent the morning puking and wrestling with a piece of toast. The Sandman elements will integrate in upcoming installments, I swear. *Eyebrow waggles* Interactions help me shout down my depression and get bits out faster! Love you all, and thank you for your support!

The extraordinary finds you on an ordinary walk.

The sky’s all grey clouds and rainy breezes, even when the forecasters insist it’s blue. Half of the year’s leaves crunch underfoot. Half still give you a reason to look up and marvel.

Really, everything’s fine, even if you’re tired, too tired, worryingly tired, and you’re too wrapped up with thoughts of the House to pay attention to your feet, and you should get back to your latest assignment, or maybe –

“Ooof.”

Brown fabric in your face, your sneakers tangling with his – a full-on collision in front of god and everyone. The man’s so skinny you could’ve dodged fifty ways around him. Instead, you’re wrapped around each other in a bid against gravity.

You look up into brown eyes full of questions. Pretty. And sad. And distracting. You’re still touching, and it’s time you did something about that.

“I am so sorry.” You sort out your feet first, reclaiming your balance before abashedly releasing the fistful of trench coat you’d snared. Then you catch yourself trying to smooth away the wrinkles. Shit. Well. Too late to keep your hands to yourself, but you fold them behind your back anyway, smiling to convince the stranger you’re entirely harmless and definitely weren’t coming on to him, and damn you’re spiraling again. Time for more caffeine. Past time. The walk’s left you tired. You’d hoped it would finally energize you past the malaise hanging over the House. No such luck.

“Oh, no. My fault entirely.” He smiles with his teeth, and it’s definitely a lie, but at least he’s being nice about it. “I never watch where I’m going. But if you wouldn’t happen to – Are you feeling alright?” His whole face wrinkles around the thought, sharpening to pierce your thoughts. He looks in one of your eyes, then swings to the next, mumbling as he reaches in his coat.

“I’m fine. No harm done. You?”

He pulls out a whining device and shines its blue light in your face. “No, that’s not what I mean at all. You look awful.”

After months of obsessive dreams and a lethargy you can’t shake, yeah, of course you look awful. You have a mirror. You had a first-row seat to watch the shadows grow under your eyes. It isn’t even something your roommates dare bring up, because they have their own bruises and drooping smiles. Trust the pretty stranger to be an asshole, though.

Using the side of your hand to guide the buzzing light away, you clear your throat and ask, “I wouldn’t happen to what?”

“What?” He returns the light to his pocket, fishes out a pair of glasses, and squints at you again.

“You were going to ask me something.”

“Oh, right. Yes. Well. I guess you would happen to. You sort of already have, or do, not sure yet. Nice to meet you, by the way.” He thrusts out his hand and grins again, trying to wipe the slate clean and yank the wool over your eyes, like this was a perfectly normal introduction. “I’m the Doctor.”

You accept the handshake but only offer your first name. He repeats it, beaming and glancing around like your name might appear in print on the side of a building.

“Live around here, then?”

Ah, nah. Too far, too fast. He’s not pretty enough to die for. Even though you don’t live alone, common sense screams against telling a strange man where you live.

“I’m just out for a walk.”

Nodding, slipping his hands into his pockets, he accepts the refusal. “Nice place for a walk.”

Thank all fuck. He has tact if not manners. “Very. And it was nice bumping into you, but I’d better continue on mine.” You pass, spin on our heel, and take a few steps backwards. Maybe he was going to ask you for directions, and you don’t want to leave on a sour note, because the poor man might just be awkward. “There’s a lake if you keep going that way. And if you cut through the empty lot there’s a little woods. Or just follow the road and you’ll find some pubs and shops and things. If you’re lost or thirsty, I mean.”

“Oh,” he smiles, “I love a little woods.”

Strange, definitely strange, but fun. So long as he doesn’t follow you home and murder your in your sleep, you’ll work a story around those deep, sad eyes. You’ll dream up fabulous, new worlds for those well-worn Converse to wander. “Good to meet you. Sorry I was a bit of a road hazard.”

“Mutual. The hazard was mutual. Enjoy your walk.”

You face away and continue in the opposite direction. When you reach a good corner you peek over your shoulder, but he’s gone. It’s a relief, if a little sad. The end of an odd little tale, and the end of the story is always the worst part, even when it’s happy.

It’s another two miles back to the House. Your feet carried you far away, but your mind is still in your room, turning over fragments of inescapable scenes.

Mind and body meet on the doorstep. You come back to yourself, vaguely aware of how shaky your legs feel as you put your key in the lock and push through into the entry way.

Art crawls over the walls, growing across the ceiling. Decades of creatives moving through have left their mark in every imaginable way, and the lot you live with are busy adding their own. Jeremy’s painted a starling over the hallway mirror, and Blithe Sharpied her band’s logo at the foot of the stairs months ago.

Despite the chaos of the House’s interior design, it’s dead quiet. Where is everyone? In bed, probably. Asleep or wishing they were. They’re all under the weather, too, and if they have the energy to get up and be productive, they can only work quietly.

Blithe’s guitar hasn’t serenaded anyone in the wee hours of the morning for weeks, and you’re sure she’s missing rehearsals. Trevor hasn’t been to an audition in just as long. And Jeremy, well, he was always a bit quiet. He liked to keep his headphones on while he painted, and the biggest racket he ever made was when he knocked over the tray with his palette and brushes.

But none of them had ever been so lifeless. Jeremy made the old house’s creaking boards sing in the odd hours as he went from the attic to the kitchen for tea or biscuits. Trevor should be laughing on the phone with someone. Blithe should be composing new music to transcribe on the walls. No one seems like themselves, and all the doctors could do was mumble about stress and lifestyle choices.

But at least you’re home.

You’re tired.

You’ll just have a little nap before you put the coffee on.

You make it as far as the couch.

Then the fatigue swallows you, and thought unstitches from reality as you fall into the ratty floral print. Loose threads of memory follow you down, the rhythm of your walk echoing in your feet, and you find green grass sprouting from your imagination. The dream smells like summer, and droning rattles in your ears.

It’s another story. The same one you keep slipping into when you sleep. Growth, and death, and the thing that sits between lurking underground.

A hill.

A door where there is no door.

Old magic pulling bits of you inside, tattering the edges of your fingers as they steady you against an oak. Skin, fingernails, and tendon shred away like burnt paper, pulled towards the point of entry that doesn’t exist.

Under your palm, the wood groans and flexes, breathing, or pulsing, alive in ways you’ve always suspected trees are but can’t articulate. It’s all impressions here, and it’s pulling you in. The tree has more life than you do. You’re feeding the green, green grass and the hill beneath without growing into it, and that must mean you’re –

Awake.

Consciousness physically jerks you out of the dream, and a muscle seizes in your neck.

“Fuck.”

What’s happening? Did you jump scare yourself? As you try to rub the angry spot over your shoulder, the sound that roused you comes again.

A knock at the door.

Rolling your head to pop the bastard muscle back into compliance, you get your feet on the floor.

But the dream. You need to write it all down.

There must be a scrap of paper around here somewhere. A stubby pencil on the end table and an out-of-date band flyer come to hand. They’ll do. But as you scratch down words to shape the sensory madness of your wandering dream, the knock comes again, and you swear, stumbling to your feet.

“Damn it.”

You abandon your work and make your way to the door, pulling it open without checking who’s waiting on the other side. It creaks open as you glance down to make sure your feet are clear, and you look up to find the storied brown eyes from your walk.

“Hello again!”

He shoots the same, big grin, like this is not at all strange and really you should all remain calm while he stops in for a cup of tea.

#winter solstice writing event #sandman x reader #crossover #fanfiction #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor / reader #morpheus x reader #fic: sometime dreamers

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magnolia-among-the-stars · 10 months

Text

delicate (jake seresin pt. 10/12)

PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader

NICKNAME: Sunshine

Warning: A bit of self-body shaming

It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.

PLOT: Penny Benjamin’s niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART

“You were all I’d ever asked for, you know that right?” your words cut through the air, rage rising in your lungs at him.

“I fucked things up okay?” Jake’s jaw clenched as he closes his eyes and takes a heavy deep breath. “I want to make things up to you. Please,” he reaches forward, clutching your hand in one of his as he pulls your fingertips to his chest. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, warming you up all cozy as you take slow and deep breaths. The rage inside of you from your insecurity and Jake leaving starts to simmer from his closeness and your brain goes dizzy.

“Jake, I don’t know,” you shake your head, watching as he puts your flowers down and grabs your other hand. His hold is gentle, the space between the two of you intimate as he leans into your space. One hand rises above your head, taking your breath away as his sparkling green eyes are holding your gaze with such an intensity.

“Let’s take things slow here, okay?” your breath fans over his face from the closeness of your face. “I want to trust you, but I need time.” Your answer is honest, and it sends a rubble of nerves through your stomach. There’s a bubbling in your chest of an ache to want to be close with him but your mind takes over and your palms flatten out on his shoulders to slowly peel him off you.

There’s a misting in his eyes and his bottom lip quivers a bit, but he nods wholeheartedly and steps away from you. He clears his throat and collects the flowers again, holding them out for you. “These are beautiful,” you whisper, taking his hand in yours as you move into the bright white kitchen. You reach up to grab a vase from a top shelf, your dress rising enough that Jake gets an eyeful of the soft flesh of your supple thighs.

He holds back the groan that wants to escape him, instead finding a pair of scissors to trim the stems while you fill the vase with water. Jake’s hands are cautious as they trim each stem, dropping them onto the countertop in a neat pile before he tosses them into the water and fluffs the bouquet out. You watch him with a dazed glow, fist coming up to rest your chin on as he discards the excess.

“Where did you learn to finesse a bouquet?” you ask, surprised by the tender nature of his flower handling.

“Mom never went a week without fresh flowers from the Farmer’s Market,” Jake’s accent twangs slightly as he took in your heavy gaze. Before you have a chance to reply, someone clears their throat in the doorway. You both turn, jumping at the new person joining the kitchen.

“I’ve been sent in to break up the tension and let you know that the food is ready,” Rooster’s standing with his hands clenched in front of him, his shoulders tense as he tries to look anywhere but the two of you. “Are you…you aren’t going to kill each other, are you?”

His statement makes you giggle as you roll your eyes and cross your arms, feeling self-conscious. “No Rooster,” you say as you turn to look at Jake, smiling slightly. “Not killing each other.” You make your way out through the slider doors, leaving the men behind you as you step out into the warmth of the Californian sun. There’s a beautiful breeze as you settle into the backyard, joining Nat and Gemini at the patio table who slide you a plate.

They take turns telling stories of life on the aircraft carrier, the tight quarters and bunks that they had to share. “God, Javy has the worst gas,” Mickey cracks, his pearly whites gleaming as he lets out a loud laugh. Javy, not even the slightest bit ashamed, began to laugh along with him.

“That is so gross guys,” Gemini scrunches her nose, leaning into Bob as she wipes her hands on a napkin and tosses it onto the table. “I’m so lucky to bunk with the ladies, we atleast try to keep it silent.”

“Silent but deadly,” Nat cracks with a wiggle of her eyebrows and the group erupts in laughter again. You take your final bite of some pasta salad before leaning back against your patio chair. Jake notices your relaxed state, wishing so desperately that he could tug you onto his lap. But instead, he leans over and nods to your plate.

“All done?” his voice is low as he reaches forward, offering to grab your plate.

“Thank you,” you flush, nodding as you hold your plate out for him. He takes it, striding over to the trash to toss it out before heading to the cooler. You watch his movements, slower than usual, gentle in how he lifts the lid. The scabs of his cuts are illuminated from the patio light, turned on for the dimming sunlight and it’s then that you remember his words. I almost died during an exercise and the first person I saw when I was going down was you.

The comment brought a whole wave of fear through you, a terror of something having happened to Jake before the two of you got to talk through everything. Even after Jake’s birthday, you were unsure of what you would hope for in the future state of your relationship, but you surely didn’t want him to die before you figured it out. You zoned out, watching as his arms flexed in pulling two beers from the cooler and closing the lid again.

Jake’s eyes connect with yours as he turns back to the group, tilting to the side as he notices you staring. You blink once, then twice as he approaches and goes to hand you one of the beers. “Shit, hold on,” he objects, pulling back and tucking his own bottle between his legs. He wipes the bottle he was planning to hand to you, the dripping water from the melting ice onto his shirt before finally handing it to you.

“Thank you.” You turn back to the group, noticing Nat and Penny watching you slowly with a ghost of a smile on their faces. You tuck your chin into your chest, picking at the label of the Blue Moon until enough time passes that you feel like they are no longer looking. Everyone disperses after dinner, a few people finding their way to the cornhole boards while Mav and Penny disappear into the house together like giggling teenagers.

Bob and Gemini sat setting up the small pit fire, perfectly leaning the logs against each other as if they’d been camping together for ages. Perhaps they had. You wondered how they maintained a healthy and quiet relationship, just for them. They seemed so free of insecurities, of hiccups as they curled up together and kissed every now and then between crumbling up some twigs for the starter.

“You doing okay?” Nat’s voice echoes behind you as you turn, hands shaking slightly as you catch her stare at you for the third time that day. “You’ve been quiet since we left you guys in the kitchen earlier this evening.”

You pull some of your hair off your shoulders, taking in her words. “I’m not sure.”

“Did he apologize?”

“Yeah,” you share, a loud giggle bursting through your chest. You take a peak behind her, taking in Jake’s wide smile and the crow’s feet at his temples from beneath his ray bans. He’s chatting aimlessly with Rooster, deep in conversation and ignorant to your stares. “So many apologies that I don’t know what to do now.”

“What do you want to do?” Nat slides down beside you in the grass, leaning back to watch you. She gives nothing away in her gaze, no opinions or judgement. This is what you loved about Nat, her relentless ability to intimidate and love in such a fierce manner.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” you hold your breath, letting it sit in your throat at the contemplation of what came next for you and Jake. When you finally let it out, your head thumps back against the plastic of the chair. “I don’t have any fucking idea. Before today, I was so furious with him that I couldn’t consider myself ever getting that vulnerable again.”

“And now you’re wondering how after one conversation with the man, you’re falling deep and fast back into wanting to be around him at every moment’s notice?”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience Phoenix,” you joke, deliberating nodding to Aries who is helping clean off the table and bringing out the pitcher of sangria that she’d made with Penny. “I’m pathetic.”

Nat’s hand comes up to clutch your shoulder, squeezing it tightly. She takes in the way your forehead puckers and how you begin to chew on your bottom lip. “You’re not pathetic,” she shakes her head. “You’re falling in love with Bagman and that’s okay.”

“That’s not,”

“It’s totally true,” she crosses her ankles, staring directly at you without blinking. “It’s disgusting because it’s Bagman but he’s not Bagman with you. Other than he’s severe lapse of judgement in leaving that morning, he’s been a shocking delight when it comes to you. To us, he’s always been this cocky SOB but he’s always been Jake to you. This kind, sweet and gentle giant from the South. You’ve had his heart from the moment you came to work at the Hard Deck.”

You don’t even realize tears are streaming down your face until she reaches up to brush her thumb below your lashes. You sniffle as a sweet and radiant smile finding it’s way onto your face.

“And you know that I would not be vouching for the man if I didn’t think he was redeemable.” The statement causes you to belly laugh, snorting at how serious she looks.

“I know,” you glance over at him again, only this time, he’s staring back at you. You twinkle against the glow of the fire and Jake finds himself falling even deeper in love with you. Penny calls for everyone to come grab a slice of cake in celebration of your success. You shovel down the delicious raspberry and chocolate slice of cake she’d bought just for the occasion before returning to circle around the crackling fire.

Curling up in your chair, Mav talks through his wild adventures when he was your age and shares about how he and Penny met for the first time. “You took her for a fly by?” you squeal, leaning up to look at your aunt in disbelief. “You are so bad.” You slap her leg and giggle, the slightest wave of a buzz starting to settle into your bones.

One by one, the group began to dissipate as Penny handed out supplies for smores. As the beer began to simmer in, a lightness washed over you. Your fingers were starting to get slightly sticky from a marshmallow that you’d tried to catch, and midnight crept around when the fire began to smother. “I think it’s time we call it folks,” Mav announces, rising with his arms wrapped around a tipsy Penny.

You nod, sluggishly and rise to your feet to set in. You’d have to leave your car until tomorrow and walk home for the night. You blink slowly with a lazy smile, turning to look at Jake. He looks so fluffy, so cozy in his hoodie and when he glances at you, his gaze softens in confusion. You reach forward without hesitation, sliding your hands over his slender waist and settle your cheek against him as you snuggle close.

He freezes, unsure of what to do. He’d been waiting for the day that he could have you back in his arms but hadn’t expected the day to be today. It takes only seconds before he’s wrapping you up in his embrace, large palms rubbing up and down your back. You sigh contently and close your eyes.

“Can you walk me home?” your voice is mumbled against the plush material of his blue hoodie, but he hears it. You sound so innocent, so vulnerable as you clutch at the hem.

“Anything for you Sunshine.”

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#top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #jake seresin imagines #hangman x sunshine #jake hangman seresin x reader #whatever this is universe!

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