#i take maybe one or two sick days a year (except last year when i had corona and quarantined) but even still | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

futureman · 10 months

Note

hi ur writing is so so good, makes me go insane ur amazing

okay so could you do a normally dom!joel but one day he has the day off and reader doesn’t, so all he does ALL day is think about her. When she gets home he’s worked himself into a frenzy, desperate asf. So instead of his usual dominant self he’s desperate!joel whining and whimpering for her to touch him, make him cum, moaning in her ear and grinding against her.. all of that fun stuff 🤭

thank u for ur time, pls excuse the depravity 🙏🏾

hi nonie! loooved this request so much. i got a similar one from @luvrxbunny, so i combined them a bit and made it a lil longer. hope you both enjoy!

omg ur so amazing ily pls pls pls pls pls pls pls can i have dom!joel with a praise kink 🙏🏾 he doesn’t even really realize it but reader does and she’s just pummels him with praise while he’s fucking her and he does feral, moaning and grunting in her ear i’m sorry im so feral

way too damn needy

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, language, smut, dom-turned-sub!joel, gentle-dom!reader, praise kink, masturbation, phone sex, blowjobs, face fucking, lil fluff

word count: 2.8k

What a way to spend his only day off in weeks. The weather’s perfect for playing his guitar on the porch, and he thought he’d even squeeze in a swim before getting started on building that new bedside table for Sarah. He had plans.

But instead, Joel’s stalking around his living room like a caged animal in an endless loop of waiting, waiting, waiting.

It’s like he’s been transported back to his teenage years when every guy in a relationship followed his girl around like a puppy, always at her beck and call. Wondering what she was doing, if she was thinking about him. Except he wasn’t even that guy in high school. Not then, and definitely not now.

There’s really no logical reason for him to be this wound up, totally unable to do a single thing on his to-do list just because you’re not home. Leave it to your company to be the only one in the entire country that doesn’t give their employees Labor Day off.

That’s probably a gross exaggeration, but what does he care? He’s been tragically affected by this clearly personal transgression, and has to wait…two more hours? Seriously? You normally leave around 5:30, which means you’re home by six, and he’s not sure he can wait that long.

The sad fact of it all is that he’s already wasted almost the entire day not enjoying all of those relaxing activities he’d planned for. What’s even sadder is that he’s been half-hard for most of it, intermittently pausing his ridiculous pacing to grind the heel of his hand into his crotch for relief. Petulantly waiting for you to get home and take care of it for him.

Well, another hour’s gone by, it’s 5 pm, and he’s officially past his limit. At this point, he's probably better off handling it himself, at least until you're finally back. Then, you’re all his.

He’ll fill you up with every last bit of pent-up frustration he’s felt since you left the house this morning, making you regret not just calling in sick. You might have to tomorrow after he’s done with you.

Joel drops onto the couch, laying to face the door so he’s the first thing you see when you walk in. Pulling his boxers and jeans down just enough to get his cock out, he wraps his hand around himself, immediately hissing out a breath through his teeth. Shit, he’s been hard for hours and just that slight touch already has him leaking precum all over his fingers.

For a moment, he worries that maybe he’s a little too worked up, that he’ll cum way before he gets the chance to make you sorry for making him feel so desperate. So needy. And that makes him mad.

It should be your fingers covered in precum, your plush lips sucking him down to the hilt, and your pretty pussy aching with the need to have him inside you. Funny how you’re always so good for him, except today when he needs you the most.

His hand starts to move languidly before he can stop it, the slide wet and tight, just like he knows you’ll be. But it’s not you, and that makes him even angrier. If he can’t feel you the way he needs to, then maybe your voice will hold him over until he can.

The phone only rings twice before you pick up.

“Baby, I’m busy right now. What’s up?” you answer, slightly out of breath.

It’s cruel, but Joel honestly doesn’t give a shit if you’re busy. Not when his mind is this clouded with thoughts of you on your back, breathing much heavier than you are right now. But he manages to keep that to himself.

“You comin’ home soon?” he asks gruffly, still tugging on his cock, head thrown back on the armrest of the couch.

“Uhh, probably leaving in about…a half hour?” Your voice lilts like you had to double-check the time. “Everything okay?”

“Any chance you can leave now?” he tries again, side-stepping your question.

The desperation in his voice is obvious, and it makes him feel even more pathetic. He wonders if you can hear it. Part of him hopes you can.

“Why, did something happen? Is Sarah okay?” you ask, clearly concerned.

“S’fine, everythin’s fine. Just miss ya, s’all," he lies shakily.

Of course, he misses you, but nothing here is fine. His angrily weeping cock is a testament to that. He's all but fucking into his own fist now, hips bucking off the couch as he pants into the phone.

“Joel, what—are you touching yourself? Jesus,” you mumble, and he can hear your heels clacking against the floor like you’re walking somewhere. Quickly.

“Been thinkin’ about ya all damn day. Dunno why you went into work on a fuckin’ holiday,” he grunts. “Should’a been here with me, on your back, beggin’ for my cock like a good girl.”

You inhale sharply and, though muted through the phone, he hears it loud and clear, dribbling more precum down his shaft. Unfamiliar voices start to filter through the speaker, so he’s guessing you can’t say much.

And that’s okay. He has no problem filling the silence. Joel loves talking to you while he’s getting off.

“Had me feelin’ needy today, babygirl. Y’know I don’t like that,” he says dangerously. Your heels hit the ground faster, and he subconsciously matches his strokes to your pace. “Thought I was losin’ my mind for a while there. Was just about ready to let you do whatever you wanted to me when you got home, s’long as I got to fuck that tight pussy of yours.”

A door slams in the background, then all he can hear is you panting heavily in his ear. But when you finally speak again, your voice sounds different. Less like his good girl, and more like someone who knows they hold all the power.

“Oh, poor baby,” you coo, catching him off guard. “Did I leave you alone too long?”

He can tell you’re mocking him but, for some reason, his resolve starts to slip away more and more with every violent throb of his cock. Maybe it’s desperation. Or maybe he just likes it.

“I’m so sorry,” you continue, murmuring sweetly in his ear. “I can make it all better…but only if you wait a little longer. Can you do that for me? Be my good boy.”

He bites back a groan, gripping the base of his cock hard to keep from cumming then and there. That's...new. And sexy as hell. He's still frenzied to the point of no return, but you also might've rewired something in his brain because he suddenly realizes he does want to be your good boy. Badly.

Fuck, he hopes you get home soon.

That last half hour of work was torture. You spent the entirety of it, and the car ride afterward, marinating in your soaked underwear, anticipating everything Joel has in store for you when you get home.

You're not sure what came over you on the phone, but it sounded like he enjoyed it. A lot. It’s a dynamic you’d never thought to try in your relationship, not with Joel’s domineering personality. The fact that he went along with it at all must mean he’s going through it, and that’s something you’re a little too excited to see.

The house is quiet when you walk in, save for the sound of your keys dropping into the bowl by the door. You turn to hang your bag on a nearby coat rack, and that's when you see him.

Joel, still lying on the couch exactly where you assume you left him after your call, with his hand squeezed tight around the base of his cock. He looks like a goddamn mess—sweating, hard as a rock, and leaking all over himself. His eyes are a little wild, more so than you've ever seen them. Christ, poor baby. You didn’t think your absence would affect him this much.

“Aw, sweet boy. Is all this for me?" you smile softly. He sucks in a breath, visibly twitching in his hand, and your smile widens. “Sit up, I can’t play with you like this.”

He complies immediately, and it sends a shiver up your spine. You love how well he’s listening, even though he almost looks like he's in pain after being in this state for so long. For that, you think he deserves a reward.

So, you give him one—the one he’s been waiting for all day. You undress for him, maintaining eye contact as you slip off your stuffy business attire, finally ridding yourself of your oppressively sticky underwear.

Dropping to your knees between his legs, you gaze up at him affectionately, mouth inches away from his drooling cock.

"Tell me what you want," you lean in, pressing your lips against the smooth, velvety skin. "Still wanna fuck me? Get me on my back, begging for it?"

Your tongue darts out to taste him, and you moan, licking a wide stripe up to wrap your lips around the tip. He's salty and heady, and so fucking delicious, but he still hasn't answered you. Instead, his fingers thread through your hair, guiding you down halfway and back up, shallowly fucking your mouth.

"I—fuck, please...," he's struggling with his words, whimpering around each syllable. "—baby, I waited...been good, did what ya said."

You nod your head understandingly, or at least try to as you continue to let him thrust into the inside of your cheek. His eyes are hyperfocused on the way your skin bulges around him, each stroke sending a shockwave of pleasure straight down his tightening balls.

"Christ, you feel good. Worth waitin' for, so fuckin' worth it," he rasps, his fingers tensing in your hair. "Need ya to—," he repositions your head so he can thrust further, deeper until he's nudging the back of your throat, "—ngh, make me cum. Suck harder, baby, please."

Soft, hiccuped moans escape his parted lips, increasing in volume when you start to drool around him, down your chin and onto your breasts. You can tell he's about to burst, feeling his skin growing taut against your tongue.

"M'gonna—haah, gonna...," desperation clouds his eyes, still dictating his every thought and move.

But you don't let him because that's not what he said he wanted earlier. He's allowed to buck into you a few more times before you pull off with a loud pop, and the needy, frustrated whine he lets out almost makes you reconsider. Almost.

"I'm gonna make you cum, I promise, but not with my mouth," you tell him, voice tinged with disappointment, wrecked from the force of taking him like that. "You were doing so well for me. Come down here, keep being my good boy and I'll make you feel good."

Plopping down on the carpet, you spread your legs so he can see how wet you are for him. It's only gotten worse since earlier, slick coating your thighs, shiny and all the more inviting. You lay back, trailing your fingers up your belly to your breast to tweak a nipple, sighing as you reach out to him with your other hand.

Again, he obeys, his desire to empty down your throat all but forgotten. His shirt is quickly discarded, followed by everything below his waist, and then he's shifting onto the floor between your legs.

"There's my sweet boy," you coo, running your hands up his chest through a smattering of coarse, dark curls, and it rumbles under your palms as he mewls sweetly at your praise.

He leans over you, hovering like he's waiting for permission to touch you, but he doesn't need it. The only thing you're trying to do is guide him, not control him. You want to make sure he gets exactly what he was so patient for.

"Wanna feel you, babygirl. Let me—," he amends what he was about to demand, "...can I touch you?"

You bite your lip nodding as you smile up at him, and he wastes no time dropping down to bury his face into the crook of your neck, sucking wetly as he presses his body flush against yours. You writhe underneath him, just as pent up as he is by now, the realization triggered by how incredible his naked body feels on top of you.

"Fuckin' hell, you're soft," he moans into your ear, propped up on his forearms. His cock brushes against your inner thigh, and his moan turns guttural, raw like it clawed its way out. "Mmph, I can't—"

He lurches up to crash his lips into yours, kissing you sloppily, hungrily, as his hips finally dip to drag against where you're soaked and aching. But not for nearly as long as he's been, and right now, he comes first. You need him to know he can have you. That he doesn't have to wait anymore.

"Don't...don't fight it. You've been perfect, you deserve it," you gasp out, and his hips jerk, your words forcing a low keen past his lips and into your mouth. "Take, baby. Take what you need."

Joel doesn't take, he seizes, laying claim to every part of you. Like he's afraid he won't get another chance if he doesn't take full advantage of what you've given him right now.

He faintly reminds you of a puppy lacking object permanence, believing the next time you leave, he'll be stuck waiting for you to come back to him forever. God, you're not even sure how you fucked him up so badly, but it's clear by the way he's handling you that he won't let you go again.

He moves quickly. One moment, he's leaning back on his heels, digging his fingers into your waist to yank you up onto his thighs, and the next, he's fucking into you as hard and fast as a bullet train. His cock somehow feels thicker, heavier than it ever has when he breaches your cunt, and the stretch has you clawing at the carpet beneath you.

"Missed you all day, wanted you all goddamn day," he growls, plowing into you forcefully enough to make your brain go fuzzy. "Fuck, babygirl, you got no idea what I've been through."

Christ, that feels—it feels...Christ. He's hitting something. You have no idea what, but it feels ungodly, like if he keeps going just like that, you'll cum without his fingers on you at all. It's happened before with Joel, but it's rare—and it's only when he's deep, lighting up all of your nerve endings at once. Fuck, he's being so good today.

"S'okay, you're okay," you gasp, clenching down around him when he suddenly pounds into the spot dead on. "I...I'm here now. Just keep going there, right there."

He nods frantically, gritting his teeth as you continue to tighten around him.

"Good boy," you mumble deliriously, your back arching completely off the ground as your orgasm rocks you.

"Shit, you—'m not touchin'...fuck, baby, you cummin'?"

It hits him all at once, what's happening, and then he's cumming, too. He's loud through his entire release, alternating between drawn-out moans and hiccuped whimpers as he fills you up with a whole day's worth of pent-up frustration.

Thrusting until your aftershocks have subsided, he grinds in deep one last time, letting you milk him completely dry before he pulls out. You're boneless underneath him, your eyes glazed over while his are finally clear for the first time in almost ten hours.

He lowers your body onto the floor and crawls over next you, pulling your body against his. His embrace is warm and pleasant, and enough to pull you out of your post-orgasm stupor. Wriggling in his arms to get more comfortable, you tilt your head back from where he'd tucked it under his chin to grin up at him.

"So you missed me, huh?"

He rolls his eyes, back to his usual, not-totally-depraved self, but you already know the answer. He just spent the last hour showing you exactly how much.

"Thought I already made that clear," he confirms gruffly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Next time, could ya maybe just use your vacation days? Please?"

"Sure," you laugh, nuzzling into his neck. "I'll save them up just for you."

You reach up to scratch your fingernails across his beard, your other hand petting the soft curls at the nape of his neck. A soft noise rumbles low in his chest, but he tries to play it off by clearing his throat. Playfully raising an eyebrow, you continue your ministrations and it happens again.

"Baby, quit, 'm not a dog," he deadpans, even as he leans into your touch, his body betraying him.

"You sure about that? Because you sure were needy like one today."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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ncteez · 1 year

Text

Give & Take (l.s)

It’s not weird that you and your roommate do certain things that others would consider, um, strange. It’s not weird because you don’t make it weird, and he certainly doesn’t go out of his way to make a big deal either.

or the one where you and your roommate masturbate together casually until it becomes not so casual, and maybe neither of you can do it at this point without wanting more.

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give seokmin a boner

minors dni!!

WORDCOUNT― 6.6k

PAIRING― seokmin x afab reader

CONTENT― roommate au, roommates to lovers

NOTE― This is dedicated to @onlyseokmins and that’s all I have to say about this. (i’m a liar i actually want this man so bad so here’s my need for him in fic form and also a direct attack on elv.) not proof read.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― big dick seokmin, mutual masturbation, pining, desperate stuff i guess, pretending he’s fucking you instead of his hand, just the tip moment, unprotected sex, he pulls out bc he’s polite. ~

Moving in with Seokmin was a no-brainer. Both of you were freshly graduated from the same college and starting new jobs in the same city hours away from home. Seeing a familiar face in a city of bustling businesses and loud streets was a welcome comfort for you, living with that familiar face only made it easier.

It wouldn’t be a lie to say that back during the college days, you and Seokmin weren’t close. Not until your senior year together that the two of you somehow met in the middle with a single class despite the drastically different majors. He took it as an elective, yours was the last “easy” class to get through before graduation, because maybe your advisor fucked up and never told you it was necessary to take, and maybe you were a little mad about it.

You became less mad as you helped Seokmin through his struggles. An elective for him was a career for you, so it was easy to walk him through it. You grew close within the stress of senior year so of course, when you found out he was moving to the same city that you’re moving to, you instantly jumped into action in trying to convince him to save money by living together with you.

It’s a big city, and while you both had jobs lined up, it’s not like the pay was enough for one person to afford an apartment in the heart of the city. Thankfully, he didn’t need to be swayed and it only took a few weeks for the two of you to head out and explore the apartments offered, landing on one that leaves an equal distance both of you would need to travel to work. One that only costs some seven hundred and fifty dollars a month each (a hefty amount for just one person.)

By now, it’s been about six months since the two of you settled here in the heart of a great city. Work has been going smoothly despite the tired nights when the two of you meet up outside (because somehow you both clock out at the same time too) and decide on whether you want to walk to a shop for dinner or fight over who is gonna put the nuggets in the oven this time.

Things were normal for the most part, you think, regarding roommates anyway. There is one thing that’s changed though. Not your fondness of him, not even the way you look at him when he’s being annoying and loud while singing in the shower.

It started about two months into living in this space with him. He must have lost track of the time that day because he knew your schedule then and still knows it now like the back of his hand. He took the day off, feigning sickness after a long Sunday of doing absolutely nothing and wanting to extend it just a bit longer through the following Monday. You worked that day, of course, you did. You came home on time as you always did too, except this time you didn’t come home to him in his room or cooking dinner.

It was a weird kind of rush, wondering how the fuck this could be happening as you stood at your doorway to find him exposing more of himself than you ever expected or wanted to see at the time. There, on the couch was your dope of a roommate, legs spread wide and length in hand. On the tv played nothing, but his phone was propped on his thigh as he stared down at it with deep sighs.

You were frozen at that moment, watching him and feeling your cheeks warm up. You didn’t know if you should turn to leave, make a noise so he stops, or just watch. Somehow, you found yourself not wanting to disturb him. Was it because you liked what you saw? At the time, you would have said absolutely not. But seeing how it is now, it’s more common than not to see him orgasm, it’s kind of laughable.

On that day, he must have felt someone watching him because mid-stroke he looked up at you and fumbled his pants back over his length. Muffling apologies with raspy whispers, skin glistening on his forehead indicating he must’ve been at it for a while, and you were just standing there silent.

That night, you laid in your bed wondering why you couldn’t get that image out of your head. Seeing him like that wasn’t something you ever thought about despite how handsome he is. He’s your friend, he’s your roommate. You can’t stop thinking now though, about how big he is in all of his entirety. From his height to his– yeah.

It went on like that for about two weeks. You, not able to get that image out of your head and him, acting as normal as ever as if it never happened. It wasn’t until the end of that two-week time span that you realized you enjoyed it. Like you would have liked to have seen him finish.

It swam in your brain for a while, wondering if you should bring it up or if you should push past it and find some guy to meet up with just to work out the horny energy, after all, it’s not like you know anyone in this city well enough to have an intimate relationship with. No one besides Seokmin anyway. Dilemmas, dilemmas.

Not so much a dilemma though, to your pleasure. It’s brought up one night on a Saturday as the two of you say at the kitchen table complaining about work. Minutes passed, then an hour passed and he suggested having a drink to wind down. You accepted, sipping the alcohol he so proudly made for you.

It felt warm in the apartment by that point, but you didn’t mind as you found your brain falling back to that image of him. You thought he might be wearing the same shirt that we was wearing that day, which is kind of detrimental for your fogging brain. But, he brings it up.

“You know, you’ve been kind of weird since that day.” He commented, running his fingers along the rim of his glass. “I really did lose track of time, and I can’t stop feeling embarrassed by it.”

You could see a softer side of him at that moment. Out of how long you’ve known him by now, never once have you seen him embarrassed.

“About that,” You started, not able to look him in the eye. “I was shocked but–”

The way he looked at you at that moment was difficult to process. It was new ground for both of you.

“I think I liked it?”

The tip-toeing around each other didn’t last as long as you expected it to. After the talk you had with him on that Saturday night, somehow the two of you ended up doing the very thing that had you in a rut in the first place.

You got to watch him in full, working himself up until he suggested you join, that maybe he’d be into it too. Saying that he felt weird being the only one, though he didn’t mind that you were watching. You don’t know what got into you that night, maybe it was the alcohol, but you did join him. A full five feet away from each other but shamelessly watching hand movements until orgasm. You noted him holding off too, until you got there. It was an interesting dynamic, truly.

And now, six months into living with him, it’s become a normal occurrence. After every hard day at work, “wanna get off with me?”, after every long movie session or board game loss, “wanna watch each other come?”, to the point that now it’s nearing every day. Any self-fuck session became a shared one.

Sometimes he even texts you from his room late at night. It’s like you know his jerk-off schedule more than your own work schedule by now. Sometimes, you don’t even touch yourself but instead, enjoy watching him get there with a little help from you, taking off your shirt or spreading your legs. It’s become a thing. And somehow, it’s not as weird as it should be.

“You got plans this weekend?” Seokmin bellows through a yawn from his room after hearing your alarm go off.

“Since when do I ever have plans?” You say through your own yawn after pulling yourself out of the bed. You tiptoe the few feet from your door to his, leaning against it and scratching the back of your neck. “Why?”

He stretches loud and obnoxiously before rolling over and planting his face into his pillows.

“Wanna skip out on work today?”

You step into his room, throwing yourself on top of him with a tired groan.

“Yeah,” You sigh out, closing your eyes and fully aware that you could go back to sleep right now despite this uncomfortable position over your roommate. “but why?”

His voice is muffled more by the pillows when he answers you, mostly because your body weight is pressing him further down. He fights to turn his head away from the pillow, takes in a deep breath from the brief smothering, and smiles.

“I dunno, we haven’t really had a chance to go out and explore the city much outside of furniture and grocery shopping.”

You realize that he’s right. You’ve heard talk of the malls in this area, of the theme parks, the museums. There’s so much to do here, and neither of you have really attempted to do any of it.

“Starting today, because we are going to skip work,” He narrows his eyes as he lifts his body up and forces you to roll off of him. “You are going to skip, right?”

You nod, waiting for him to continue what he was originally going to say.

“We should go out and explore. Rent is paid already, fridge is full, I saved up a bit so we could go do some stuff.”

It flies right past your head. You don’t even stop to think that he saved up to do this with you, and instead you simply nod with a smile before hopping off of him and rolling off of the bed to your feet.

“Guess I should call my boss.” You shrug, starting to leave the room.

“Wanna sleep a little more first? Kind of dumb to skip out on work and not sleep in.”

You nod again, yawning and looking down at your phone to search for your workplace number. Thankfully, after calling, there was no issue with you skipping work today. After all, you haven’t really missed a single day since you started (unlike some people: seokmin.)

Friday was eventful, the two of you walked to all of the shops closest to your apartment, stepping into a cafe and having some coffee, then went to a pristine shopping district and scoffed together at the price of a pair of socks.

By the time you got home, you were just as tired as you would have been coming home from work, and he was still bouncing on his feet. Drinks, dinner, sleep.

No casual masturbation that day.

On Saturday, it started much the same except this time the two of you went to a mall. Why he kept insisting on buying you cute panties and matching bras? You know the answer. You’re kind of part of his porn collection now, and he is part of yours too. Maybe he considered it a little too hard when you also suggested he get a cute pair of panties to wear. He didn’t though, and instead bought you like six too-expensive sets of lingerie. Each color to match whatever horny brain he’s in, you assume.

That night, the two of you ate at a restaurant and took a taxi back home. Sitting beside him on the couch, a question started floating in your brain and by now you knew better than to keep these kinds of things to yourself given the dynamic you have with him.

“You know, you’re buying me all of this sexy stuff–”

“I am, yeah.” He smiles proudly, eyes crinkling as his eyes shoot to the bag on the kitchen table.

“Why aren’t you just going out to meet someone instead of settling with jerking off all the time?”

He doesn’t even hesitate.

“That’s a lot of work, why would I do that when you’re right here?”

Why would he do that if you’re here?

“Why, you getting bored of me?” He jokes, leaning against you and nudging your shoulder. “Should I have bought those panties to spice it up a bit?”

God, it’s so weird how normal this is. No touching each other, only looking. Desperate looking at that, searing eyes, extremely hot orgasms, wobbling legs, and then sleeping alone. Would it really be so strange at this point to want to touch him? To want to spice it up not with panties, but with the act of actually feeling how warm he is?

“Oh no.” He pauses, eyes widening. “You actually wanted me to wear those?”

“No!” You laugh, though it would’ve maybe awoken something in you, you’re not sure. “I just figured you know, it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to go get laid.”

He stares are you before throwing out another joke.

“I know that.” He laughs, turning to face you. “It’s not like it would be hard for you either. Why aren’t you out and about instead of sitting in front of me and touching yourself?”

You freeze at his words, realizing that so many times it’s been silent sessions together save for moaning. He’s never actually said those words to you, never dirty talked, never crossed an invisible line while it happened.

“Would you prefer I go find someone else?” You avoid the feeling in your gut right now only briefly, staring him down.

“No, I’d honestly prefer you touch yourself for me and only me.”

Oh. Oh fucking no.

“That’s all you need to be satisfied?”

He smiles proudly again, eyes flicking back over to the bag and you shake your head at him.

“We need to wash those before I wear them so you’re gonna have to deal with the boring panties I wore today, I guess.”

He nods, already following suit on the regular list of things he does when this happens.

It’s always so quiet, and never did it bother you until now. Watching him do nothing but grab his length and squeeze it until it starts to harden. Eyes on you as you do your own version of working yourself up, hand down your waist band and simply touching and rubbing until you feel the first sensation of your gut flipping.

“Seokmin.” You start, looking at him through narrow eyes. This is enough for you, but…is it?

“Hm?” He responds, eyes focused on the movement under your shorts.

“Can you talk a little bit this time?”

He smiles, chuckling a bit at you for the question.

“Oh, you’re into that?” He says almost in a mocking tone, but it sends a little wave of heat through his body to have you asking for more of him in some way. “I can’t promise I won’t say something stupid though.”

You shake your head, running your fingers up your folds and stopping at your clit.

“I don’t care what you say, I just really like your voice right now.”

Another pause from him as you watch him adjust his almost fully erect length under his pants.

“Only right now?” He asks, trailing his fingers gently along the underside of his length and turning his body back to where his back is against the couch cushions.

“No, I mean, I like your voice all the time but you never say much when we do this–” You admit, watching him intently like you always do, feeling the clock tick up to the point you know he’s going to pull it out and start sighing.

“Alright, does this mean I can ask for something too?”

You quirk a brow at that but quickly nod in anticipation because finally, this is going somewhere past just watching.

“Can we like, um–” He blushes mid-question, turning his face to look at you with all of his shame showing plainly. “Can we do it in an actual position for once?”

You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you or if he’s actually wanting to pretend he’s fucking you by suggesting that. Immediately you fumble with the button on your shorts to get them off.

“Yeah, Oh–” You stop yourself from sounding too excited. “I mean, like, what position?”

“Can I be on top?” He blurts, pulling his hand away from his length and once again looking at you and the way your fingers remain on the hem of your shorts, preparing to take them off.

The image alone in your head of that is enough to want exactly what he wants, if not more. The illusion of him fucking you while you fuck yourself? You really couldn’t ask for more than that at this moment, though that could be argued if you think too hard about it.

“Deal.”

The second you say that word, he’s jumping up and practically tearing his pants off of him. His eagerness is as loud and obnoxious as always, you can even hear a small “fuck yeah” whispered to himself when he does it. All is well and good until he’s tugging your shorts down for you.

Never has he taken your clothes off for you. The intimacy is flowing through you, but you’re not sure if he is feeling the same way about it. He’s probably just eager to try something new tonight rather than the usual.

Your shorts are off faster than you’d normally take them off and you’re kind of chuckling about his blatant desperation until he hovers over you and positions himself where he wants to be.

Now…now he’s intimidating. With both knees on the couch, your legs bent at the knees and resting on his hips. That doesn’t even matter to you right now, because you haven’t seen his face this close before. You haven’t felt his hips against your legs before, outside of when you flop down on each other during a tired morning to wake the other up. You’ve never felt your stomach flip like this over him.

And when his eyes leave that spot between your legs to meet your own with his same dopey smile, it’s like you melt into a puddle instantly and you’re wanting so much more than just this. You hold back though, finally pulling your eyes from his and looking between his legs.

You knew his cock was big but you’ve also never seen it this close to your body. It’s like, big big. Thick too, and never did you notice just how huge it is because his hands are equally huge, and wrap around it perfectly. To him, it’s a perfectly accurate cock for a man so tall and broad, but damn.

It’s a bit embarrassing that all it took was for him to hover over you with his cock out to have you forgetting that you asked for him to talk through it. You’re in danger. Extreme danger with him like this and eager to talk this time. It starts so fast, so casually, and you’re still spinning internally just to grasp what you’re feeling right now.

“Good?”

That all he fucking says to start, settling into his position fully and grasping himself. Honestly, his cock is only a few inches above your core and you can feel the heat from it.

You nod, curling in on yourself a bit and he takes note of it because you’re never fucking shy.

“Too much?” He asks, watching you shake your head in response. “God, thank fuck. Because you look so good right now.”

Spinning.

“You can let go of me now though, I can see how wet you are already.” He continues, chuckling at the way your arms grip his shoulders.

You didn’t even fucking notice that you instantly started clinging to him. Especially with the fact that you didn’t expect him to talk to you like this. The two of you haven’t even started yet and he’s already got you on the verge of insanity.

You’re quick to pull your arms back and lift your shirt up over your chest before slowly trailing your hand down.

“Match my pace, okay? It’ll feel better.” He instructs, blatantly making a point so it does look and feel like he’s actually fucking you, all movements matching, sounds matching, lust matching.

You nod again, silently, eyes now focusing on his cock because if you look at his face right now you might just buckle and start crying over how insanely hot he is.

He lets out a short chuckle at your silence, he’s used to that and didn’t take issue with it at all until you asked him to talk. He hopes you talk back at some point, but for now he leaves it alone as he starts stroking.

Precum is leaking already just from seeing you beneath him like this, bra covering your chest, panties covering your pussy– but it’s enough to get him going. He would feel selfish to ask for more unless you offer it first. He’s got you where he’s always wanted you since this whole thing started.

You watch his hands, slipping your fingers under your panties and sliding them through your folds at the same pace, shivering only slightly at the feeling at you watch him.

This pace works for a few minutes, but you note his grip grows tighter on himself and you hear his breath stutter in a sigh when he does it. You wonder what that feels like for him, and you wonder what he’s thinking about as he does it. You move your fingers to your clit at that point, pressing in and releasing your own sigh of relief.

He watches you, eyes shooting to your face and studying the way you close your eyes to really feel it.

“Look at you,” he coos, trying to talk like you asked him to. “feels better when I’m here, right?”

You half open your eyes with a crooked smile, because of course it feels better when he’s with you. Even if he’s not touching you, even if he’s not the one doing it.

“So pretty when you do this, you know–” He continues, praising you and falling into the words easier than he expected. “I think I fell in love with watching you from the second you spread your legs for me.”

You can’t. You can’t look at him when he’s talking to you, it’s a lot. It does something, it does a lot of something to you, so you focus on his cock and the way he starts pressing his hips into the circle his fingers create rather than pumping himself. He’s slow with it, lazily moving his hips back, forward, then back again.

At that moment, you slide your fingers down and tease at your entrance, dipping a finger in easily and releasing a sigh. You can’t imagine this one finger will mimic what he could do to you, but you settle.

“That’s it,” he says as he watches, hanging his head and knowing exactly what you’re doing with your fingers. “Can I see?”

You don’t respond and instead use your other hand to hook your panties to the side, revealing your finger sliding into you at the pace he’s sliding into his palm.

The sigh he lets out begins to form into a moan at the end as he watches, wetting his lips and furrowing his brows. He keeps his hips steady despite obsessing over the fact that you’re fucking yourself at the same pace for illusion’s sake.

“Put in another.” He instructs, watching you do just that and release another sigh. He’s becoming frustrated with the situation though, knowing for a fact that he could do better for you. Knowing that if you’d just suggest it, he would instantly be giving in. “Is that even enough for you?”

Your eyes shoot open and go straight to his face, which is staring down intently at the way your fingers fuck you open.

“Not always.” You admit, shooting your gaze back down to his cock and the way his grip tightens around it. “Is that enough for you?” You follow up, pointing to his hand with your head.

“Not always…” he mimics you, and then it’s silent as the two of you accept the fact that this has to be enough right now.

And it stays like that for a while. To the point that his hips are relentlessly fucking into his palm, causing his knuckles to bump your clit every few seconds, and you’ve buried in a third finger trying your best to pretend it’s him.

It’s both too much and not enough. Too much in the fact that he’s all over you, and too little in the fact that he’s right there and not in you. Your fingers aren’t enough when his cock is right there, his words aren’t enough when he’s not muffling that voice with your lips, and you can’t imagine he’s not feeling frustrated with the situation. All of the puzzle pieces are in front of you and neither of you are putting in the effort other than organizing them. You’re not snapping them together, you’re just on the fucking edge of the situation you want.

Does he want it? Is it too much to ask? Is it–Oh.

“Can I–” he starts, cutting himself off with a sharp breath because of the way you clearly are trying to reach deeper inside of yourself in pace with his long thrusts.

“Yes.” You don’t even know what he’s asking, and to be fair you don’t think you give a shit. Whatever he wants to do, please, just do it.

And he does without a second thought, releasing his grip and pulling at your wrist to slip your fingers out of yourself. Then, he presses his cock directly between your holds, holding it down as he picks up the pace again and thrusts up.

It’s not what you were expecting, but then again you should have known he wasn’t asking to fuck you. This is good though, feeling his cock sliding between your lips, head bumping your clit. The warmth, the heaviness, the way his length is so thick that all you can do is try to not feel empty while it’s sliding through your arousal.

He’s more focused now than he was before, nearly letting out a sob rather than a moan at the feeling of your pussy against the underside of his cock. It's like he’s getting everything he needs and nothing at the same time, but the image of your eyes staring down at it too was enough for him to know you like it too. You like it enough.

When you let out a moan, trailing your hands up to your chest and releasing your tits from the bra, he only grinds faster against you, pressing down harder on his cock to create a tight space between your pussy and his palm. He stares at your tits, and then at your lips, and then back down at the way your pussy lips spread around his cock as he slides through them.

Another hidden sob pretending to be a moan, and then he’s leaning closer to your face.

“If I kiss you, would you be mad?”

You instantly strain your neck to connect your lips with his, and he falls into it all too easily. You can feel him speed up his thrusts, and you can feel his desperate tongue. It takes you a moment to realize this is your first kiss, and it’s while his cock is getting off against you.

Its more than you could have asked for, honestly, but you’re going to ask for more because as you kiss him, well, all you can think of is how this looks outside of your position. It definitely looks like he’s fucking you. The image that you can’t even see in full is arousing you beyond belief as you kiss him, and when he pulls back for a breath, you take that short moment to spill your thoughts.

“Just a little.” You groan blankly, squeezing your breast in your hand and using your other hand to push his cock away from you. “Just–”

He stops, out of breath, trying and failing to comprehend what you’re trying to say.

“Just what?” He groans, grabbing his cock and pumping it much like he normally would.

“A little, just put it in a little bit.”

His face is on fire as his hand halts on his leaking cock. Did he hear you wrong? He’s watching your hands squeeze against your chest, he sees your eyes avoiding him, he can still taste your lips on his, and your pussy is just below his cock, pulsing around nothing. Is he reading you wrong?

“Just a little bit…” he repeats what you ask for, looking down at you and placing a hand on your thigh, spreading his fingers out wide. “You’re asking me to fuck you, just a little bit?”

God, the words. So few words but also so many words.

“Yes.”

He leans down inches from your face and you can feel his cock fall back to your folds at the moment, you shiver unintentionally.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to do that and then you end up regretting it.”

He told himself time and time again during these sessions with you that he would instantly jump for the opportunity to fuck you, but now that he’s faced with it– he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself aside from asking for confirmation as many times as he can until he believes you really want it.

“Just,” You still avoid his eyes and the way they’re staring through you. “Please.”

He nods in an unsure way at first before pulling back and holding his length in his hand again.

“Just a little bit, right?” He tries to confirm, and you nod.

With a deep breath, pounding heart, and spinning thoughts, he aligns himself with you and doesn’t know how to comprehend the feeling of slipping into you. So he simply…doesn’t.

You can feel the intense stretch instantly, the feeling you’ve been searching for making you shiver and nearly writhe beneath him. Just an inch, it’s all you need, he doesn’t have to do any more than that. You don’t need more, you have self-control, right?

“Oh, fuck,” he groans as your pussy envelops the head of his cock. He can feel the pulsing inside of you massage against it, he can feel the wetness, the fucking warmth. “Fuck, fuck.”

It’s all he can say, honestly, speechless at your silence of the act. The way your mouth falls open in a silent moan only urges him to give you short, single inch thrusts despite the wetness you offer making it difficult to not accidentally slide further in.

“So thick,” You whine out in a broken and desperate voice.

It causes him to have to take in a deep breath and hold it. Good lord, he’s fighting so many demons right now not to plunge into you and take whatever he can get.

“A little more,” you urge him, wiggling your hips and sucking him in against his own movements. He doesn’t mind it, nor does he mind the embarrassing sound he lets out at the feeling.

Now, he can thrust another inch in, stretching you open a little more, shocked that the three fingers you used before didn’t seem to come close to preparing you for this. He can feel how tight your walls are around him, and again, the demons.

He lets out another embarrassing sound when he looks down, seeing only a quarter of his cock inside of you. He, once again, holds himself back from pushing in more. He could go so deep, but he can’t.

“Little more?” He asks meekly, reaching a hand out to your cheek in the hope that you’d let him. He won’t ask again. Just, if he can get half of his cock in you, it would be plenty. It would be enough, he would be satisfied.

“Or,” you groan at the adjustment around him, knowing full well that by asking him to put the tip in that you’d want so much more. It’s fun thinking you can control yourself, but it’s more fun losing that control with another person. You’re both controlling the need to fuck and be fucked solely because you don’t know if the other wants it. But god, he’s already inside of you, isn’t it fucking obvious?!

“You could just fuck me.”

Say no more, with those words it’s like his hips act of their own will and he’s slowly sliding into you in full. Relishing in the way your pussy spread out to make room, cooing over the feeling of himself going deeper, deeper, and fucking deeper into you.

“Finally.” He breathes out in relief when he bottoms out, leaning forward yet again to lay his lips against your forehead. “Felt like I’ve waited so long.”

You’re silent as you adjust to what you can consider the biggest cock you’ve ever taken. The searing pain isn’t much compared to the arousal of his admittance of wanting this only after getting inside of you.

All you can offer him is a moan when you try to respond with your own witty sex talk, but he sends him spiraling somehow further than he already had gone. His hips stuttering in their planted spot as he lets you adjust, moaning in response to your moan. His lips kissing all over your face now, feeling in this moment that you’re his, and this feeling is shared, and that only your pussy could massage him this way simply because he’s inside of you. It’s overwhelming, all of the feelings hitting at once.

From physical feelings to emotional ones, it comes with such a harsh hit to him that all he can do is flutter those kisses to as much skin his lips can reach. Feeling your eyelashes on his cheek when he kisses the corner of your mouth, to feeling that corner of your mouth open in a yelp when he finally starts to move his hips back. Sliding out of you only a little bit before pressing back in again, deep and lazy.

“Good?” He asks, much like he did before. “So good.” He answers for both of you immediately after, keeping that lazy pace as he leans on his elbows on either side of your head.

“Wrap your legs around me?” He follows up, already so comfortable speaking through your silence that it feels natural, especially when you do just as he asks.

In wrapping your legs around him, he’s able to adjust his body from the position he’s been stuck in this whole time. Now, he can be on his knees with you curled under him, clinging to him like a koala as he uses the back of the couch to support his balance.

There, he’s able to pick up pace, there he’s able to see what you look like when you’re being fucked. There, he can see what you look like when he’s the one doing it. And he might be spiraling, but he feels more sane than he ever has in this moment, watching your lips and feeling you squeeze around him.

It’s no wonder he felt no interest in finding someone else. He was more satisfied jerking on in front of you than he had ever been actually inside of another person. Now though, it’s insane to think he was satisfied because he’s changed his mind. Why would he find someone else when you act like this?

Why would he put himself through the possibility of you going out and doing the same thing with someone else?

For you, there are no thoughts, just Seokmin. You’d laugh right now if it weren’t for the fact that each thrust forces a desperate and wet sound out of your throat. You’d laugh harder if it weren’t for the fact that you don’t even need to rub your clit to get yourself there.

He easily hits that soft spot inside of you, time and time again as his lips travel over repeated areas until landing on your mouth.

You kiss him harder than before, now trying to move your hips despite the difficulty of being under him. You try to meet him halfway now that he’s sliding nearly his entire cock out before slamming back into you. Emptying you and filling you up time and time again as if to remind you of the few moments before when you felt him for the first time.

Repeatedly you think you’re about to come, and repeatedly you hold off until he whispers.

“I know that face, you’re holding back.”

It’s so fucking surreal knowing that he knows this without ever actually fucking you before now. He knows what you look like when you come, he knows how you like to be touched after watching you so many times. He knows where you sleep, knows what your favorite foods are, and showers in the same bathroom as you.

You let go, thinking of only him and this moment you’re sharing. You don’t worry if it’ll ever happen again, because you know it will if he lets it. You’re not in control of this anymore, nor of yourself.

“Pretty, like always.” He compliments when you make that familiar face of release, pumping into you faster now just to feel the gush of wet he’s seen leave your body time and time again. “Prettier now, though.” He corrects himself, feeling just what he was expecting as your body releases the tension all at once.

The wet sounds somehow become wetter as he thrusts, still fluttering those kisses across your face to the point that you’re either numbed to it or tingling because of it. And only after he knows you’re finished does he pull out, fucking against his hand so aggressively that you’re more aware now than before that he always lets you finish first if not at the same time.

Except now, if he were to finish at the same time, he’d be filling you up so that there’s no question about the worry that comes after it. Despite knowing you’re on birth control, despite knowing you’re both clean because neither of you have fucked another person in half a year–

You watch with drowsy eyes as he releases strings of thick, white seed against both your pussy and stomach. Your panties, ruined and forgotten as they strain at the crease of your thigh. You whimper at the sight, so in love with the way it feels hitting you for some reason. So endeared with the way he pulled out despite knowing in his head that it would have been fine if he stayed.

When he flops down over you, ignoring the mess between your bodies, you’ve never felt so close to him. You don’t think you ever want to feel further from him, actually.

It’s the start of something else now, you’re not sure what, but it’s a given.

The start of something new came in the form of his room turning into a guest room for a new roommate.

That roommate has yet to be found, but it’s an excuse to sleep next to him every night. No titles have been claimed but they’re definitely been given. Just a day after that happened, you caught him slipping and calling you his girlfriend. He figured that since you didn’t correct him, it must be true.

Yeah, it must be.

#seokmin smut #seventeen smut #lee seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #svt smut

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imwetforyourmom · 1 month

Text

heading for the door pt2

pt1

summary: what happens after the breakup?

warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of lack of eating, crying, swearing, fem!reader, ive never been in a club so mb if its poorly described, meantions of drinking and alcohol, help yall idk what else

sorry this took so longg

y/n held her knees to her chest as she sat on her bed. she was only staring at the wall infront of her. the creamish popcorn wall. nothing special about it, nothing special going on.

the only special thing she could think about was matt, even though she knew she shouldn’t. she was only tearing herself down more and more.

the thoughs of matt holding her, mumbling hush words to her with a sweet and caring tone of voice, the memories of them going on picnic dates together and laughing and giggling the entire time came flooding back to her, just as her tears did, overflowing from her eyes.

the realization of her actions and what had happened only sunk in after matt left, and that was almost a week ago.

she’d been in bed all week, no motivation to get up, shower, get dressed, nothing. she couldnt bring herself to move herself to do important things, such as eating, the last she’d eaten was almost two days ago.

but as of right now she couldnt focus on the gurgling and rumbling of her tummy, the way her body ached, the constant pounding in her head, the overwhelming thoughts, no. all she could think about was how she’d never feel matts touch, hear his voice, see his clothes lying around, as much as she hated picking all of it up, now she’d absolutely kill to be able to do it again.

but no. everything, absolutely everything was gone. and there was nothing she could do about it, except wait until something happened, just hope that maybe she’d find the motivation to move her sore and aching body off the bed, take a nice and warm shower, brush her teeth and take care of herself, eat a delicious and big meal.

she hated how she felt, how she couldn’t even look at a bracelet on her dresser, a bracelet her and matt had made to celebrate their two year anniversary. their two years of loving one another, two years of giving as much attention and affection as possible, spending two years of their lives together.

all of that was gone. she couldnt relive any of it, she couldnt bring it back somehow, she couldnt do anything except accept that she ruined everything, she ruined the love they had for eachother, the life they built together.

“am I not good enough for you?” the words rung through y/ns head, being all she could hear. the words she never wished to come out of her matt. the words she absolutely hated since he spoke them. she hated the way they made her feel. she hated how she felt sick to her stomach when the words processed through y/ns head.

knowing that he felt as if he wasnt enough and was basically worthless to y/n absolutely destroyed her. knowing matt was everything, everything. he was everything to her. without him she didnt feel like herself, and now that he was gone and gone for most likely forever she’d always feel this way.

she couldn’t feel complete, a part of her would be missing for forever and she’d never feel comfortable with herself. never feel normal. never feel the same joy she felt when she was with matt.

god, she built her entire life around matt, relying on him for her everything, her happiness, her grounding, her safety and comfort. she was so used to being with him, that everything she saw or heard reminded her of him, and what did that do? nothing. it only made her feel worse.

• • •

“come on y/nnn, you havent left your bed in a weekk, just come out, and you’ll feel better.” the text read, y/n stared for a moment, thinking all the thoughts of what would happen if she went out.

what if she saw matt? it wouldnt matter. they’ve broken up anyways.

what if another man reminds her of him and she breaks down and sobs? highly doubt that would happen, matts one in a million.

what if she gets black out drunk and calls matt? she hopes she does, maybe they’ll get back together.

y/ns thumbs moved across her keyboard quickly, pressing the letters and forming a sentence.

reading it over and over again, y/n made sure this is what she wanted and what she wanted only, not basing it off of anything to do with matt.

“yeah ill come out. pick me up at 9.” she pressed send and clicked her phone off.

she took in a breath, moving her legs to the side of the bed, pushing them to the edge and onto the floor.

the harsh cold wood on y/ns feet(sies) reminding her this was reality and not some stupid dream she’d made up.

• • •

y/n quickly thanked the uber before stepping foot out of the car, immediately being greeted with a very enthusiastic “hiii!!” by ryleigh, her voice high pitched as she wrapped her arms around y/n.

y/ns arms wrapped around ryleighs body, saying a quick “hi” aswell, maybe a small smile at her lips. she still felt disgusted with herself, with what she did to matt. she’d never be able to feel the way she did before she’d done what she did to matt.

hell, she couldnt even utter the words of what she’d done. the words brought her great pain, a nauseous feeling to her stomach and tears to her eyes.

“are you readyy?” ryleigh asked, her voice just as comforting and encouraging as y/n needed it to be.

ryleigh pulled away from the hug, her grin ultimately comforting y/n and reminding her she was in a safe space with ryleigh.

“yess! by the way, love the dress babe, you look beautiful!” y/n answered, her lips curving into a grin, matching ryleighs.

“thankss. lets go inside.” ryleigh pulled y/n by the hand, pulling her inside the club.

as soon as the door opened loud ass music, neon lights and chattering engulfed y/ns senses. the lights really getting to her, they were just.. so much brighter than inside her bedroom.

ryliegh, on the other hand was enjoying it all. the sweaty bodies she and y/n moving against others as they walked to the bar. everything going on was just what ryleigh needed.

“hello ladies, what can I get ya?” the bartender offered a warm smile towards the two. his voice sending shivers down rylieghs spine. it was a husk, and deep voice, ultimately pulling ryliegh in.

“uh- um.. I- ill take a majito.. um.. y/n? what do you want?” ryleighs shaky and flustered voice turned to y/ns direction.

“I dont want anything. thank you though, ryleigh.” y/n answered. as easy as it would be to consume alcohol and drown out all her thoughts with matt, she knew it wasnt right. she shouldnt because she needs to live the reality of what she did, and also, because drinking alcohol like that is not a good idea, whatsoever.

“alrighty, then. thats all.. mister..?” ryleigh trailed off as she turned back around to face the bar tender, leaning her forearms onto the counter.

• • •

y/n left ryleigh and the bartender. they were just flirting and shit. she didnt want to be the third wheel. wheres the fun in that?

y/n was currently enjoying her night, atleast trying too. as much fun as someone who just ruined their relationship could.

she lightly swayed with the music, her hips moving side to side gently with the music.

she lightly hummed the words of the song, suddenly being so consumed by the beautiful sounds of the singers voice and the background music.

then, everything stopped. her body movements came to a halt. the music suddenly going quiet. her breathing stopping and her heart rate quickening, as her eyes laid on matt.

she immediately bit her lip and took in sharp breaths. her arms twisting together as she stared at him, her eyes darting down his face and body.

the way his silky and shiny brunette hair fell perfectly ontop of his head. the way his green shirt looked so, so good on him. the color perfecting his skin.

god, everything she wanted in a person, yet she couldnt have, but once did.

matt stared at the crowd of bodies infront of him, all moving under bright lights. his eyes trained on each and every individual, his eyes scanning the way each body curved and didnt curve, the features of their faces and their clothing. studying each person for no other reason than being bored.

his eyes were currently laid on one girl, his eyes trained on her hips moving, not even bothering to glance up at her face, nothing.

he could only think about how familiar the movements looked, how perfect she moved her hips.. but more importantly how it looked so familiar like he’d seen it plenty times before.

suddenly, her bodys movements stopped. his eyebrows raised in confusion, wandering why the girl had stopped. he moved his eyes from her hips to her face.

he didnt even have to look for another second to know that is his girl- that was his girl. once was, never (at least, what a part of him wants) again.

he quickly took in how she took in sharp and small breaths, her arms twisting together in the same way she always used to, when she was nervous, he quickly recognized.

fuck.

suddenly his eyes began filling with tears as his lungs slowly deflated with no air. he couldnt find it in himself to take in a breath, without atleast letting out a small sob.

as much as it pained him to look at the girl he only wished was still his, he couldnt bring himself to look away.

he missed the way her arms felt around him, the way her words always got to him, comforted, brought happiness, anything he wanted her words always seemed to do it. the way her beautiful eyes stared into his, the beautiful color of her irises bringing such comfort, warmth and nervousness over him at any given moment with no failure.

as much as what she did with koda absolutley kills him, he still loves her, he still hopes she was in his bed with him everymorning, he still wishes she was the one to always hold him as long as he needed it.

all he wanted was her, and he knew he could have her back, but he knew she didnt deserve him.

y/n stood in her spot, her feet planted to the ground as she took in her shaky breaths, so badly wanting to walk over to matt and talk to him, she just wasnt sure if she was ready or if he didnt want to talk to her. why would he? she basically cheated on him.

her eyes couldnt help but to stay on the boy, until he motioned for her to come to him.

she nodded, before looking away then untwisting her arms and flailing them to her sides, shaking her hands for a moment to get the nerves out and to prepare herself.

she brought one foot infront of the other, walking to matt in a quick motion.

“hi.” matt breathed, seeing y/n standing infront of him. seeing the girl he wanted so badly stand infront of him.

“hi.” she spoke, taking in a breath before quickly saying “alright, listen. I am so fucking sorry for what I did matt. I would absolutely do anything for you. I’d- I would do anything matt. words cannot describe how drained ive been without you, I havent felt the same, I don’t- nevermind. this isnt about me, this is about you and what I did.” she took in another breath, collecting herself before starting again.

“alright. what I did was absolutely unacceptable and absolutely disgusting of me. you were my boyfriend and I should not have done what I did with koda. its absolutely sickening and- and, wrong. no man could ever amount to you, you’re everything and all of everything ive ever wanted. koda is- is not the one to blame here. its me. but I need you to understand that I still love you and if I could I would treat you so so much better than what I did before. i am, truly, so sorry matt, and i do hope we could date again- or atleast be friends.” she finished. exhaling a large breath, feeling a huge amount of weight being lifted off her shoulders.

matts eyes stared down in awe at her. all of her words went straight to his heart. he’d completely forgiven her the moment she opened her mouth and admitted what she did was wrong.

his hands slowly came up to her face, his hand cupping her cheek and pulling her face into his, pressing their lips together in a passionate and sweet kiss. nothing sexual behind it.

y/n crumbled into the kiss and closed her eyes, until matt pulled away and pulled her into him. wrapping his arms around her body as he hugged her. he muttered words into her head, “I forgive you, I forgive you.” he repeated, his hand coming to the back of her head as he pulled her into even more of a warm hug.

2308 words

tags:

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @scofposts @jupitersturniolos @mutualsafe @evieolo

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matt sturniolo angst #angsty

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 6 months

Text

What is Broken II (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader) Sneak Peek

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity, maybe smut in the future idk

Author's note: So, this may take a little longer than I anticipated, because I got a job offer today! A start date hasn't been set, since Thankgiving is kind of in the way, but I am employed! After 11 months of job searching! I'm still gonna be writing, but I'll no longer be able to sit on the couch and write all day lol.

What is Broken II Sneak Peek

Aemond held out his hand to help her in.

Reluctantly, she took it. The brief touch was marginally more tolerable than the possibility of her stumbling and him having to catch her by the arm, or gods forbid, her waist. That would be far too much of a touch, and she was not sure she was ready for it if she would ever be ready for it.

He stepped in just behind her, the two of them standing there for a moment, wondering where to sit. In the past, they’d always sat next to each other at the rear of the wheelhouse, with her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist. But now, the thought of doing so again made her nauseous. So, she turned to the seat in the front.

“Wait,” Aemond grabbed her shoulder, then immediately released it when he saw her wince. He cleared his throat, then motioned to the opposite seat with his hand. “Please, sit here. I don’t want you getting sick riding backward.”

She looked from the seat to his wary smile. Surely he didn’t expect her to still sit with him, did he?

“I’ll take the other seat,” he added after a prolonged moment of silence.

“Thank you,” she whispered with a nod of her head. But when she began walking to the rear seat, Aemond again stopped her.

“Before you sit, let me just…” he trailed off, stepping to the front seat and gathering most of the pillows and cushions that lay atop it into his arms. Then, he deposited them on the other side. He spent several minutes arranging them until they were arranged to his liking. “There.”

He reached out his hand again to help her sit. This time, she did not take it. She was more than capable of sitting down on her own, and she was well aware that Aemond knew that too. He was just trying to touch her again, and that, she would not allow.

Once she sat, Aemond began fussing again. “Please stop,” she sighed when he began crossing the wheelhouse to fetch even more pillows. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I do need to do this,” he insisted. She could have sworn his eye shone for a moment before he turned back to the pillows and blankets. “I want you to be comfortable. You deserve it.”

“A few pillows will not make me forgive you.” For a moment, as Aemond’s shoulders tightened, she almost regretted the words. She had spoken in haste and with cruelty. It was not something she was accustomed to. Somehow, his misdeeds were turning her into a mean and petty woman.

She was just about to apologize when Aemond spoke again, his voice more timid than it had been. “I know that, but I want to do it anyway. I want to show you how much I love you. Please.”

He looked at her pleadingly, desperately. It had been many years since he looked at her like that. When she was a girl and she fell gravely ill, he stayed by her bedside against the instructions of the Maesters, holding her hand and begging her not to die. She had to look away from him to avoid falling into that memory.

“I am perfectly comfortable,” she said. “So you needn’t do anything more.”

With a sigh, Aemond threw the pillows in his arms carelessly on his seat, except for one – a small round cushion with the Targaryen three-headed dragon embroidered upon it. “Just this one more, please.”

She looked at the cushion suspiciously, some instinct in the back of her mind telling her not to allow it. But his voice was so weak, so desperate. And if it could help her be more comfortable on the long journey, what harm would it do? She nodded. “Very well.”

Aemond beamed and crossed the wheelhouse. With the pillow in hand, he knelt in front of her and brought a hand to hover over her belly. Before he made contact, he looked up to her, a hopeful smile still on his lips.

But that smile was no longer reassuring to her. Instead, it brought on a wave of mistrust and fear. “What are you doing?”

Finally, he laid his hand on her. “I…” His cheeks flushed, and he suddenly could not meet her eye. “This is to cradle your belly while we ride, so the babes are not rattled around so much.”

Her hand flew out and latched onto his wrist, her hold so hard the skin around her hand quickly grew red. She did not want to see him, so she narrowed her eyes so her coming tears fully blurred her vision. It took several tries for her to speak through her rapid breathing. “Did Alys teach you that, too?”

#What is Broken #aemond #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #house of the dragon aemond #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #ewan mitchell

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flamehairedwritings · 2 years

Text

Do Not Touch

Characters: Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Words: 10k

A/N: My take on your friend and mine: sex-pollen! I started writing this two years ago, isn’t that wild.

Tags: s3 Hop’, dub-con because of sex-pollen, fuck or die situation, Hopper being a huge dick at first, swearing, masturbation, dirty talk, thigh-riding, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, doggy-style, creampies, hand on neck/throat but no choking, gentle-mdom Hop’, more submissive reader, slight praise kink, slight cum play.

Summary: A visit to Murray’s house of wonders provides a lot more than you bargained for.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites.

—

“... fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“They’re tapping your phones, Jim, how can you not see it?”

“‘cause it’s not fuckin’ true.”

“Oh, right, so...”

As Murray sets off on another rant, you raise your eyes to the heavens, or rather the dirty, damp ceiling, and tip your head back against the wall, exhaling a long, long breath.

You knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Not impossible, but not easy.

And even Hopper had known Murray was your only hope with this kind of thing.

This kind of thing being that neither of you speak Russian and Murray does.

You’d heard the message over the Hawkins Police Radio two days ago while you and Hop were working late in his office. He’d been adjusting the frequency, fiddling, more like, when the voice had suddenly come through, delivering a short message. You’d both stared at each other, then it had come through again. You’d realised it was the same passage and had quickly grabbed a pen, repeating it to yourself as you wrote it down phonetically on your notepad.

Neither of you had known what to do, so you’d just carried on with your evening, working on your new case. But it had weighed heavy on your mind when you’d left; with the strange things that had gone on in Hawkins in the last couple of years, you are suspicious of everything. Hopper apparently had shared your thoughts as, the next morning, he’d called you into his office, shut the door, and asked if you’d kept the note. When you said you had, you’d both then decided that deciphering it would put your minds at ease.

... Except it was really fucking hard because none of the words sounded close to anything you recognised.

Barely ten minutes later, Hopper had shoved his chair back and hissed out curses.

“We’re gonna go and see Murray,” he’d muttered as he’d strode out of the room to get more coffee.

You’d watched him go, irritation prickling at you because everything needed to be done right now with him these days. In the four years you’d known him, he’d never exactly been a very patient man, but this was different. In the last few weeks he was quick to rile, short-tempered, irritable, yelling more often than not, and you were starting to get sick of it.

So maybe it’s a good thing that he can let that all out on Murray now, who can give back as good as he gets, often, actually, better.

Not that you don’t stand up for yourself when Hopper is in one of his new moods and snaps. He never yells at you, he never has, just raises his voice slightly or gets unnecessarily snippy or even borderline patronising, but your usual tactic is to just walk away, leaving him to stew until he comes to you and makes his kind of apology (offering you a hot drink or a pastry), or you try and lighten the mood. That’s just getting tiring now, though.

And it’s also a huge turn-off.

Yeah, okay, fine, you’ve admitted it to yourself, you’re attracted to him, but it’s a line you don’t like to cross; he’s your boss and your close friend, too, considering everything you’ve both been through with El, Joyce and the kids.

Now, though, you’re not even sure you want to be his friend.

You’ve tried to talk to him, ask him why he’s so God damn angry all the time but he just brushes you off or says he didn’t sleep well. The latter is nothing new, he was a mess when you’d arrived in Hawkins, sleeping for a few hours at a time on his couch in his trailer, but he’d really come into his own since then, especially when he’d had to start taking care of El. The former is new. Living through life or death situations, spending many late nights working together, and the town being small has brought you two closer together, and you’ve confided in him and he in you, so it stings when he brushes you off like you don’t have a history, like you aren’t his friend. Like you don’t matter.

“Do you know what it fuckin’ says or not?” Hopper thunders in the next room, and the patronising edge to his tone has your nose wrinkling.

“Of course I do, you neanderthal, if you give me the fucking piece of paper then I will be able to write it down for you.”

For once, and you never thought that you ever would, you’re on Murray’s side.

There’s the muffled sound of cursing, then a patronising ‘thank you’ from Murray, and then it’s quiet, except for the sound of a chair squeaking as one of them sits down. From the huff, probably Hopper. Folding your arms across your chest, you exhale another breath as you let your gaze travel the room.

It’s exactly how you’d imagine Murray’s place would be. There are... things everywhere, on every surface, some things you don’t even recognise like devices and folders with foreign writing on them, all just strewn around. To your left on a counter there’s even a corked jar marked ‘DO NOT TOUCH’, filled with a russet-coloured liquid, an unfamiliar, what was once probably red, flower head submerged in it. It looks rather like a lily, but there are strange, swirling patterns on the petals that you don’t recognise.

Your attention is diverted by the sound of the chair squeaking again, boots on wood, and then Murray’s voice.

“Ah, ah, ah, what do I get, Chief?”

“What?”

“What do I get for my services?”

“What do you get? You don’t get a fuckin’ broken nose, you asshole.”

There’s the sound of paper sliding against skin.

“... What the fuck is this?”

“It’s what was written for me, word for word, so unless you got something wrong, then that’s it.”

There’s silence, then the sound of Hopper striding closer to the room you’re in.

“You’re welcome,” Murray calls as Hopper exits the room, and you press your lips together at his thunderous expression.

“Thank you, Murray,” you answer for him, raising your voice a little.

“Ah, you’re welcome.”

Dropping your arms as Hopper nears, you raise your eyebrows. “So?”

“It doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense,” he mutters, thrusting the note towards you.

Taking it from him, you read it, then frown as you read it again.

The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly.

Inhaling a long breath, you shrug and look up at him. “Yeah, that makes no sense to me.”

“Yeah, I thought it wouldn’t.”

You make yourself interpret that in a kind way as you look at him, watching him lean against the counter beside you and take the note from you, shoving it into his pocket.

It’s complicated. It doesn’t make any sense. He’s not making a comment on my intelligence.

Licking your lips, pressing them together for a moment, you open your mouth, then close it... then open it again, your voice low, “Do you think this maybe has something to do with what Joyce was saying about the magnets? And the lab?”

If his expression was thunderous before, it’s just full on pissed off now. His gaze darting up to you, you can see how tight his jaw is.

“We don’t know that.”

“I know we don’t, but it’s a little suspicious—”

“Or it could just be some people communicating via code.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s suspicious, isn’t it—”

“Not necessarily—”

He goes to put a hand on his hip as he huffs out a breath, but his elbow knocks against the jar, pushing it off the ledge, and your eyes widen as your hands dart out in the same moment Hopper’s do. Both of you acting on instinct, it fumbles in both your hands for all but two seconds as you try to catch it, in the process the cork top sliding off and some of the liquid spilling onto your hands and his arms and you’re waiting for it to sting and burn but it doesn’t and then—

And then it’s falling and smashing on the floor.

You stare at the spreading liquid, the flower resting limply on it before your eyes dart up to meet Hopper’s, your mouth open. His is closed firmly, his hands, like yours, still raised.

“What was that?!” Murray calls, and you hear him approaching, your eyes now darting to the archway.

“Uh, it—”

“Nothin’, bye, Murray.”

Hopper grabs your hand and pulls you towards the front door, shoving it open and leading you out into the fresh air. He releases you and pulls his car keys out of his pocket as you head for the passenger side of the Blazer, both of you swiftly climbing in once he’s opened it. He’s starting the engine and turning the Blazer around before either of your seatbelts are on properly. Good. There’s only so much shit a human being can take from Murray.

Your seatbelt secured, a glance in the wing-mirror shows you the man himself, waving his arms frantically and faintly yelling for you to come back.

Absolutely fucking not.

Whatever it was, you’re sure it’s replaceable. Sure he collects weird things but it was just a flower, how precious could it be?

You hear Hopper blow out a breath as you head back to the main road, both of you relaxing. Leaning your head back, you keep your eyes on the road, letting the riddle swirl in your mind. You’re certain it’s connected to Joyce’s theories; in all the time you’ve been working at the Station you’ve not once heard someone speaking in code over the radio that wasn’t one of your own or kids, and as for Russian? You’d be very surprised if anyone in the little old town of Hawkins spoke it.

You want to broach the subject with him again, but maybe not now when you’re stuck in a hot car with him and only just starting a nearly two hour drive.

Boy, is it hot.

It’s just gone noon and it’s already sweltering. Rolling the window down, you tilt your head towards it, expecting some kind of breeze. There’s a light one, but it does nothing, so you grip the front of your shirt between your thumb and forefinger and waft it, trying to create some air. The way the shirt moves against your skin... every time it touches against it, slides against you with the movement, you’re hyper-aware of it. Maybe it’s just because you’re more aware of your body in general considering how hot you are.

God, it is uncomfortably hot.

You’re about to ask Hop to put the aircon on when he does so, angling a few of the grates towards himself. Glancing at him, you notice a few beads of sweat at his hairline.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?”

“Hm.”

Oh, well, that’s that conversation over.

You give him the benefit of the doubt, assuming he’s probably thinking about the riddle, too, so you return your thoughts to it, repeating it, turning it over and over—

It’s so hot it’s actually quite hard to think.

Blinking and widening your eyes a little, you say each word of the riddle slowly in your mind, but they just end up being words, and when you try and say it all together again you just end up stopping halfway through, forgetting it momentarily.

Just wait until you’re back, you can have a cool drink, whack the aircon right up and think about it until you go mad.

You angle the grates on your side so one’s sending a cool breeze to your face, the other your body, and then drop your hand into your lap—

Jesus Christ.

Your leg jerks a little, involuntarily, as you register the sensation of your fingers on your clothed inner thigh. You quickly move your hand to your side but even that, your fingers gliding over your leg, makes your stomach muscles tighten.

It had felt good. Far better than it usually did.

You’re just hyper-aware of yourself because of how hot you feel, it’s fine.

You shift a little in your seat and—

You catch yourself before a sound escapes you.

Fucking hell, that had felt good. So good in fact, your pussy is actually starting to ache.

Usually when you’re turned on, very turned on, the smallest of touches can have you gasping but... Are you turned on? You take a moment to consider it and find... Fuck, you are. Where the fuck has this come from?

Hopper clearing his throat pulls you from your thoughts, glancing at him. He’s sweating a little more and he’s gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles almost white, but that’ll just be the heat, another thing that pisses him off.

You need a distraction from... whatever this is your body has decided to feel.

“Maybe it’s from another town.”

“What?” He says it so sharply, almost like you’ve said something completely ridiculous.

“The message? Maybe it’s from another town and just carried over—”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

Your mouth closes tightly and you return your gaze to the road, staring at it.

Take a breath. He’s in one of his moods. Murray has riled him up. Just let him ride it out... Fuck that, I really need to say something to him about his attitude.

It’s the perfect distraction, planning in your mind what you’re going to say when you get back to Hawkins, coming up with retorts and come-backs to whatever he could say, acting out the conversation in your head and going down every route imaginable. You get so in to it, in fact, that you manage to just about forget how warm you are, and you don’t notice that Hopper is sweating profusely, his hips shifting every few minutes.

—

Your clothes are sticking to every inch of you. Your entire body aches.

What the hell is going on.

You’ve been in the car for a total of thirty minutes now, but it feels like a God damn lifetime. Thinking about arguing with Hop had only gotten you so far; it had channelled some of this weird energy you’re feeling but then suddenly you’d thought about ripping his shirt off and shoving him onto his God damn uncomfortable couch and sitting in his lap while you told him all about how God damn annoying he is.

And then the aches, the bone deep aches, had started.

Fuck, do I have the flu?

You just feel awful. Your elbow rests against the car door, your hand supporting your head, and you stare out of the window, taking slow, deep, steadying breaths. You feel nauseous and your skin is on fire. You’ve tried to keep quiet but you actually think you might be sick, and between throwing up in his car and asking him to pull over, you think the latter will annoy him less.

“Hop’.”

“What?” He doesn’t snap this time, instead he sounds... strained.

“Can we pull over soon? I don’t feel well.”

“Yeah.”

Wow.

Okay.

That hadn’t been so hard.

His voice is still strained and short, but, again, that could just be the heat. He doesn’t pull over immediately and as you glance up you notice a sign for a motel not too far ahead.

Oh, good.

Ten minutes later, the tyres of the Blazer are screeching as he turns sharply into the parking lot of the motel. You have to grip at the handle of the door as he swings in, parking swiftly and braking hard.

“I’ll get rooms.” The words are said so sharply it’s like they’ve been punched out of him.

God, he really doesn’t want me to throw up in here.

Wait, ‘rooms’? Are we staying for a night? That’d be nice.

You both climb out, and you’re almost dizzy from the action. Hopper’s already striding towards the reception booth and you slowly follow after him, wiping the sweat from your brow. You have to walk with your legs slightly apart because your thighs rubbing together... What the fuck is going on? By the time you reach Hopper he’s already got a key and is turning on his heel, walking back behind you.

“C’mon.”

As he passes you, his elbow brushes against your arm and you both flinch because, fuck, a weird little electric shock thing happens. Except, whereas when that usually happens you only feel it on your skin, this time you feel it all over your body, spreading down and curling somewhere in your lower stomach.

And it felt good.

Beads of sweat run down your arms, back and chest as you follow him up a flight of stairs to the first floor. It takes every ounce of energy you have to get up there, whereas Hopper’s almost running. The door’s open when you finally reach it and he’s got the aircon on high which you’re grateful for. Closing the door behind yourself, you’re about to thank him when you look over at him and you notice that he’s drenched in sweat, just as you are.

He glances up and briefly meets your gaze before he runs a hand through his damp hair, his eyes sweeping the room as he paces, his eyebrows raised.

“Only one room left. Sorry.”

You shake your head, the action just increasing your nausea, as you shrug. “No, it’s okay. It’s not like we need to spend the night. Just... think I need a nap, or something. Feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

There’s a short silence in which you sit down on the nearest of the two double beds, your hands on your knees.

“Me, too.”

You look up at him, your brow dipping. “What?”

Hopper gestures at himself before he drops his hand, exhaling a hard breath. “Feel like... feel like I’m gonna be sick, too. Feel so fuckin’ hot, can’t think straight.”

“Yeah, me as well...” Your frown deepens. “Are we both sick?”

“How’s that possible?”

“I don’t know. It came on so suddenly, too, only after we left...”

You meet his gaze as he presses his lips together, following your train of thought.

“That son of a bitch...”

Crossing the room, he grabs the phone from the bedside table and dials Murray’s number. At any other time you would have laughed that he had it memorised. Like they’re pals.

His tongue darting over his lips, your eyes following it for some reason, he holds the phone to his ear, his jaw clenched.

Murray answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Murray—��

You can hear the other man even from where you’re sat.

“You broke the jar, didn’t you.”

“Uh, yeah, but I can—”

“Oh, you fucking idiot. Is she with you?”

Hopper’s eyes briefly dart to you. “Uh, yeah, hey, I’m sure it’s replaceable, I can pay—”

“One, no, it’s not, and two, it’s not me you should be thinking about, you ass.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, are you feelin’ a little weird, Jim? Huh? Is your lady friend?”

“Uh...” He glances at you again before turning his back, lowering his voice slightly. “Yeah, why?”

You stood up instantly as he turned, and, ooff, there’s the dizziness again, though you manage to move closer to him, a frown pulling at your features as you tut, so you hear Murray’s humourlessly chuckled reply.

“Oooh, hoooo, you’re both in for quite a day.”

“Why, you fuckin’ asshole?”

“Let’s just say you’re going to be feeling certain urges... or maybe you’re already feeling them?”

Hopper glances at you yet again before turning his back away from you again. You hiss and move closer, brushing against him, which just makes you both grimace because there’s the electric current again. You try to stay as close as possible without touching him.

“Just tell me what’s fuckin’ goin’ on, Murray.”

“The best and most polite thing to call it would be an aphrodisiac.”

You frown as you glance up at Hopper, but he’s just staring at the wall.

“What? Why the fuck do you have something like this, Murray?”

“I was going to dilute it to sell in certain markets.”

“As what?”

“An aphrodisiac, dumbass.”

As Hopper snarls and opens his mouth, you grab the phone, your fingers brushing together making your stomach flip and something clench inside you.

Holding the phone to your ear, you swallow before exhaling a breath and murmuring, “What do we do, Murray? How do we stop feeling awful?”

He sighs, and you’re surprised and also slightly unsettled by his tone softening a little. “There’s not much you can do, except what you have wanted to do for a long time that neither of you will admit.”

Before you can speak, Hopper calls, even though he’s right beside you, “And what the hell does that mean?”

“Fuck each other!”

Your mouth drops open as you think your heart stops, and Hopper freezes beside you.

“I’m sorry... what?”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean—”

“No, Murray, I mean,” you quickly cut him off, rubbing at your damp forehead as you lick your dry lips, your cheeks burning. “What did you, why would we need to, uhm, do that?”

"It’s the only way to ease the aches and pains, honey, that—”

“Pain?”

You’re aching, yes, but you wouldn’t say you’re in pain.

“Stop interrupting me, Jesus...” You press your lips together at his exasperated sigh, before he takes a breath. “The pollen from that flower is like an instant aphrodisiac. If it comes into contact with your skin, that’s it, kiddos, you’re horny. I was diluting it so it’s less lethal, hence why it was in that jar marinating in that liquid. I’m assuming you got some of it on you when you oh so cleverly broke it for no reason?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t mean to—”

“What did I say about interrupting? Depending on how much you got on you, you’re gonna feel hot, then your whole body’s gonna ache, then’ll come the urges and the pain, and once those hit, hooo... so you two had better get to it.”

You feel like you’re having some kind of a fever dream. Rubbing your forehead again, you close your eyes for a few moments as you almost trip over your words, “What, hang on, w-what do you mean by lethal, what happens if we don’t, you know, do anything? It’ll just wear off, won’t it?”

Murray’s silent.

Oh... this is bad.

“C’mon, Murray, answer her.” Hopper’s sudden voice makes you jump.

There’s a quiet sigh. “You gotta take care of each other, together, or... or you’ll die.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever heard Murray speak in an entirely gentle tone.

You don’t know what stuns you more; that, or his words.

“... What.” Your voice is so quiet.

Hopper is silent.

“I don’t know how much you were exposed to but no matter how much, the need and the pain, if nothing is done, can get so bad that your organs start to fail and shut down. If it was just a little, it’ll take longer, if it was a lot then I’d say it’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it... it was just a little. Few splashes. I think.” Your voice sounds far away to your own ears.

“Well, you’ve got some time, then. But it’s gonna be uncomfortable so get to it.”

“Right... Thanks, Murray.” You place the phone down, feeling so far out of your body, hanging up before he can say another word.

Silence.

You look up at Hopper as he clears his throat and moves away, being very careful not to brush against you, his hand running through his hair again. As he sits down in the armchair, you sit on the edge of the bed opposite, staring at the floor.

It’s... it’s... You don’t have the word for it. Wild. Outlandish. Crazy.

“He could be lying, right.” You look up at Hopper as he speaks, meeting his gaze. “He could be mad that we broke somethin’ of his and is just makin’ this all up.”

“Yeah,” is all you can think to say.

“This could just be a reaction to it.”

“Yeah...” You shrug after a moment, blowing out a breath. “Pretty fucking bizarre thing to make up.”

“Well, that’s Murray.”

You both fall silent as he stares at the wall and you stare at the bed. It’s got a patchwork blanket on it, all red squares with other panels of red floral designs. It reminds you of the damn flower. It’s like it’s taunting you. As are the beads of sweat sliding down your spine. And the new, faint, throbbing in your cunt.

You believe Murray.

It’s... wild and bizarre and you don’t understand it at all but, yes, you believe him. Your lips are suddenly dry, either from the realisation or the flower, and you lick them as you lift your gaze to Hopper. He’s still staring so intently at the wall, hands gripping the armrests.

His eyes flick to you as you speak gently.

“I think we should stay the night. Until this wears off. Don’t want to infect anyone else, if that’s possible.”

He nods curtly, expressionless. “Okay.”

Thankfully, Joyce has El for the night, Hopper having asked her to take her in case you both stayed longer than you thought you would, so that’s one less thing. You think about saying that out loud to him, then swiftly decide against it. Of course he’ll already thought about that, will probably take offence at you asking and think it implies you think he hasn’t.

You hate the silence of the room, though, hate the space it provides to think, so you continue instead with, “We’ll just... ride this shit out. It was only a few drops. We’ll be fine.”

Hopper may be expressionless, but what you can’t see are his blunt nails digging into the fabric of the chair.

“Okay.”

—

It was a mistake, turning the TV on.

It’s too loud, too bright, but, fuck, you need the distraction. Your eyes are fixed on it like you’re possessed, and your shirt is soaked, sticking to your skin. Uncomfortable. Your skin is slick, you can feel sweat sliding down your face, arms, back. A loud commercial comes on and you grab the TV remote, turning it off as a wild burst of irritation suddenly flashes through you.

Focus on the room. Two double beds. Bare desk. Mini fridge. Bathroom. Standard motel room. Boring. Plain. Dull. So dull. Think about how dull it is.

It doesn’t work. It hasn’t been working for the last twenty minutes. Has it been twenty minutes? Longer? Less? You don’t know and you don’t want to know. Your body is aching, not only physically but with need, like you’ve never, ever felt before. You feel almost drunk, too, unchallenged words on the tip of your tongue, your brain doing the bare minimum to stop them from coming out... but they’re not just words, they’re pleas.

Touch me.

Kiss me.

Fuck me.

Your eyes dart to Hopper. He’s not moved but his shirt is soaked, too, the hair on his chest, peeking out the top of the grey, flannel button down, damp. That hair... You stare at it. How far down does it go... What would it feel like if you ran your fingers through it...

Your pussy clenches around nothing and tears start to sting at your eyes.

Fuck, I need to be touched.

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, thick with unshed tears. “Hop’, I feel awful.”

A muscle in his jaw moves. “It’s just a reaction to whatever it is—”

“Yeah, and what if it’s the kind of reaction he was talking about?”

Hopper finally looks at you, brow dipping. “You believe him?”

You hate the way he says it, all disbelieving, making you feel like you’re an idiot.

“Yeah, I do. Why would he lie, especially about something like this? Yes, he’s a dick, but he’s not this much of a dick. He’s more likely to just rip into us and go on and on than make something up.”

“You can’t say that, you don’t know him.”

Brushed off. Again.

Your chin rises slightly, meeting a challenge you might be imagining. “I’ve known him long enough.”

His jaw moves as he arches an eyebrow. “Oh, you hang out all the time do you? You best pals, know everythin’ about him?”

“No, it just doesn’t seem like him—”

“Doesn’t seem like your good pal Murray? How would you know? You can’t just make assumptions like that, he is a—”

The words lash out of you. “Oh, just shut the fuck up, Hopper.”

He pauses, lips still parted, his own words dying on his tongue... until new ones return, his eyebrows raising as his head tilts. “... Excuse me?”

Anger feels good, it channels some of this increasingly restless energy swirling inside you. “Just shut up, you’ve been a real asshole all week, all month, all the time I’ve God damn known you, actually—”

“You didn’t think I was an asshole at the Christmas party.”

You freeze, staring at him.

Last year’s Station Christmas party.

Why did he bring that up.

Was he thinking about that.

You know he was thinking about that.

Because you’ve been thinking about it, too, minutes earlier, intently. It had suddenly come rushing back to you, his hands on your waist, your lips on his, tongues stroking at each other, the moaned sigh you’d released as he’d pressed against you.

You’d both been drunk, though, and lonely and alcohol makes you horny so you’d wanted him to kiss you and he’d spent the last hour before it looking like he’d wanted to, too, your eyes constantly finding each other, looking, really looking, and then you’d just bumped into each other as you’d come out of the bathroom, but it seemed like he’d almost been waiting for you and then you’d talked, no, you’d flirted, he liked your dress, you liked his comically festive tie, and you were both laughing, your hands somehow on each other, maybe to steady yourselves, and then you’d... then you’d kissed.

Neither of you had brought it up, ever, until now. You’d been so horribly hungover the next day that you hadn’t even remembered it until late in the evening and you’d felt so embarrassed. You’d fretted for the rest of the night, wondering if you’d ruined your friendship and a relationship that meant so much to you, but when you’d gone into work the following Monday he hadn’t said a thing, hadn’t even looked at you differently. You’d been so incredibly relieved, but it had come back to you every now and then; how good his lips had felt, how passionate the kiss was, how his hands had felt on you.

All this time you’d thought he had just forgotten it... and it appeared that wasn’t the case at all.

Your already warm face becomes warmer.

“I was drunk.”

He’s got a fucking smug look on his face, like a fucking petty bastard.

“You kissed me.”

“I did not.”

“You did, you pulled me in.”

“Oh, just shut up, Hopper, it doesn’t matter or count anyway because we were drunk.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I saw the way you were lookin’ at me—”

“Why does it matter so much to you?” you snap, staring at him.

He pauses, the smug look quickly fading. Then, he shrugs, the corners of his mouth turning down. “It doesn’t.”

“Good, shut up, then.”

Silence descends.

And you fucking hate it. At least while snapping at one another you don’t think about how your panties are now soaked and you just want to feel some fingers against your cunt and a cock deep inside you...

A strained groan slips from your lips.

“You okay?” he mumbles, and you blow out a harsh breath.

“No, I’m not, I just—”

Oh, fuck.

You were just about to say it. You were just about to ask him to fuck you. Rolling your neck, your breaths slightly shorter, ragged, you lick your dry lips again.

What the fuck do I do, I’m literally about to ask my boss, my friend, the absolute pain in my ass to fuck me so I don’t, possibly, die.

Then, it comes to you.

“... You just what—”

“Just need the bathroom,” you cut him off exasperatedly, every intonation of his voice prickling your skin, and not in an entirely unpleasant way.

“Jesus, fine,” he mutters, and you hope he doesn’t notice how quickly you turn your back to him as you stand, striding towards the wooden door to the bathroom.

Closing it firmly behind you and turning the lock, you step back from it, releasing a breath that has your shoulders relaxing minutely. You catch your reflection in the mirror to your left and release another breath at your expression; sweaty, tense, and, yes, there’s a trace of panic in your eyes.

Just do it. Do it then you’ll stop thinking about it and then it’ll be over and you’ll feel okay.

Your fingers, seemingly of their own accord, move to your jeans, fumbling with the button and zip. In your haste, the zip catches on the material and tears fill your eyes again.

Oh, come on, come on, come on, please...

You don’t realise you’re murmuring the words out loud, so fixated on what your fingers are doing. Finally after a moment or so you can shove them down, your panties with them, and then you’re spreading your legs as one hand braces against the door and the other slides between your pussy lips.

You can just about muffle the moan that falls from your mouth as your finger tips glide back and forth over your clit, your teeth sinking into your lower lip.

Oh, fuck...

It feels heavenly, unlike any pleasure you’ve felt before from a first touch. You’re dripping, too, so soaking wet that you can hear it as your fingers quicken their pace... but it’s not enough.

How is it not enough?

Tears are slipping out of the corners of your eyes as you grit your teeth, a need so desperate coursing through you that it’s painful.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck... Why isn’t it working?

You slip two fingers inside your pussy, hoping filling yourself even a little will help but... no. It just makes you crave a cock inside you even more, increasing the aching that’s running through your entire body.

Oh, please, come on—

Two gentle knocks sound against the door. You freeze again, mouth open as your fingers stay buried inside you.

A throat clears on the other side, and then Hopper speaks, voice slightly muffled.

“Hey, uh... I’m sorry for snappin’, and for my shitty attitude, I... I know I haven’t been the best to be around lately...”

His words just become sounds as a kind of white-noise, ringing starts in your head.

Oh, no, no, no... No...

Your cunt is throbbing. You can’t help but think about him murmuring those apologies in your ear as his cock thrusts slow and deep inside you, as he tells you he’ll make it all up to you, everything, that you feel so good around his cock and he wants to make you feel so good all the time...

As your hand drops and you straighten, you don’t think you have absolute control of your body anymore.

And you don’t fucking care.

Unlocking and yanking the door open, you instantly meet Hopper’s gaze, watching him blink as he abruptly silences whatever he was saying.

“Woah, you okay?”

How is he so normal? Yes, he’s sweating, profusely, but that’s it, seemingly. What a sight you must look in comparison. You watch his gaze travel down you, settling on your jeans and panties that are around your knees. His eyes dart back up to yours, and you watch his slick throat bob as he swallows hard.

“What the hell you doin’.”

You can hear your own breathing, ragged, short. Staring at him, you don’t know if it’s sweat or tears running down your cheeks.

“Hop’, I need you to touch me.”

It’s as if you’ve just asked him to detonate a bomb. His eyes widening, his mouth moves but nothing comes out for quite a few moments.

“I... Hey, now, hang on—”

“Please.” At any other time you might have been embarrassed for sounding so tragically desperate. “I tried, I tried to touch myself and it didn’t work, I’m aching so bad, please—”

“Sweetheart—”

That nearly has your knees weakening, a faint sound emitting from the back of your throat. He swallows again at hearing it and runs a hand down his mouth, shaking his head.

“I mean—”

“Fuck, Hop’, please. Don’t you feel it, too? I feel like, my, my, my whole body is just in pain, it fucking hurts, Hop’.”

You don’t know whether he feels it, too, or he’s just pitying you, because confliction is rife across his face.

And then he takes a step back, and he might as well have punched you in the stomach with the gasped breath that releases from you.

No, no, no, no...

“Hop’...”

He takes another step back, unable to stop his gaze from flicking down to where your hands are pushing your jeans and panties down and off, your shoes with them, kicking them aside. Then, he looks away, so sharply and suddenly, his fingers flexing by his sides.

“I can’t.”

“Why.”

You can’t think of any reason that would be damn good enough right now.

Hopper can’t look at you as he shakes his head again. “It’s not right, you don’t want this, it’s just the flower—”

“I want this, I want you, Hop’, I need you...” You’ve stepped towards him, your hands on his chest, sliding over his damp shirt, fisting it in your hands. “... I need you inside me...”

His jaw is so tight, his whole body is, you can feel his muscles underneath your hands, and his breathing is harsher. He raises a hand, which you don’t notice is shaking until he places it on one of your forearms. You wait for him to try and pull it away, but he just grips it lightly.

“You... You don’t want me really, this, this isn’t right—”

“I do, I do...” Your chin lifts and your lips brush against his jaw, and you swear you hear him groan quietly. You cling onto it, even if it isn’t real, and the words tumble out of you. “... I’ve thought about you before, inside me, making me cum, I’ve fucked myself imagining it was you before, so many times, please, Hop’, I’m begging you...”

He must have groaned because now his head is tilted against yours, lips against your cheekbone. His thumb is brushing against your inner wrist, too, so lightly. You press against him... and feel it.

His cock straining against his jeans.

Maybe it’s not just you, then. The arm he isn’t gripping moves, your hand dropping to settle on his thigh, your fingers caressing.

“Please, Hop’...” you whisper.

You know he groans this time, his lips so close to your ear. You know he’s seconds from crumbling, too, his hips angling towards your hand, his hand sliding from your wrist to your bicep, head turning closer towards yours, lips inches away—

Then, he freezes, a breath hissing out through his teeth.

He doesn’t move away but, staring at him, you can see the confliction return and even some anger that washes over his features.

“Hop’—”

“This isn’t the way I wanted it to be.”

You pause, lips parted so your harsh breaths can escape audibly. He hadn’t wanted to say that. He’d hissed the words out, eyes unable to meet yours, in fact he’s now closed them; regret swirling inside him.

But you can only think about one thing right now.

You’re shaking with relief and anticipation. “... You’ve thought about me, too, then.”

A statement, not a question.

His eyes open, finding yours. “Yeah.”

You relish every word you say. “Then fuck me like you’ve wanted to.”

Any last restraint he has crumbles.

And he must have be in just as much pain as you because it happens in mere seconds.

Hopper’s hand grips the back of your head, holding you close and tight against him as his lips crash against yours. A combination of a sob and a moan emits from the back of your throat as you grip at his shirt, desire burning through your veins. His other arm wraps around your lower back and part of your brain is grateful for his strong grip because then he’s suddenly turning you and walking you back towards the closest bed.

The backs of your legs knock against it and you fall back on the soft covers, and it’s like he didn’t let you go at all as he’s already on top of you, one arm by the side of your head, the hand of the other resting on your torso, fingers splayed. One leg is between yours to hold himself up and your brain is working so fast, trying to find any way to soothe what your body is crying out for, that it takes you a moment to initiate its plan. Shifting down, your back arching with the movement, you start to rock your bare cunt against his thigh. The moaned cry you release is swallowed by his mouth, but he gives a groan in return.

“Fuck...” he hisses, feeling how wet you are as you’ve already soaking through his jeans.

The material is rough but that just makes it more heavenly against your swollen, aching clit and folds. Gripping his biceps, your lips tear from his as you tip your head back with a loud moan, eyes closed tightly. It’s not enough but it still feels so fucking good.

It takes you a few moments to realise he’s pushed your shirt and bra up, and his lips instantly descend upon your hard nipples, kissing, licking, sucking, pulling with his teeth slightly.

Tears are sliding down your cheeks in relief and a smile is pulling at your lips because—

“Yes...” you gasp, fingers curling tightly into his hair, tugging at his scalp.

His hips jerk as you do, and his grunts tell you just how much he likes it. So you do it again, and again, and again... and realise he’s grinding his hips against your thigh, just like you’re doing to him.

“Fu-uck...” he growls against your chest, his mouth moving in a deliciously sloppy way up your skin to your neck.

You whine as he kisses you there, your head tipping back, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

It’s so, so fucking good... but it’s still not enough.

“Hop’, need more...”

“Shh, don’t worry, baby, I know...”

How can he string words together? You had just about managed to breathe yours out.

What delicious words they were, though.

You must have done something in response to them, bucked your hips a certain way or made a sound, you don’t quite know because your mind is starting to feel like liquid, because he’s suddenly smiling now.

A lazy, smug smile that makes you clench.

Gazing down at you, his hands splay across your waist, and he presses his thigh a little harder against your cunt, which has your back arching.

“You like when I call you baby, huh? When I talk to you?”

“Yeah…” is all you can so eloquently answer with.

“That’s good to know.”

How is he capable of this much talking? Does the pollen enhance sexual characteristics that are already there?

Whatever it does, you can’t think on it much further because the hand on your waist is now travelling down your stomach, and you’re about to complain at his thigh suddenly disappearing when they’re now replaced by his long fingers sliding over your cunt.

“Oh, fuck…” you gasp as he groans, your eyes falling shut.

“Jesus, baby, you’re so fuckin’ wet, you’re fuckin’ dripping…”

You don’t even bother trying to respond. Gripping at his shoulders, all you can do is moan as three of his fingers drag up and down your folds. When they move over your clit, you don’t know whether it’s a sob or a moan that falls from your open mouth. Either way, pure pleasure courses through you. Maybe at any other point you would have cum right there and then from how intense it is, but you need something inside you. Whatever is happening, that’s all you know.

“God, Hop’, please…”

“I know, baby…”

And as he says the words, he pushes two of his fingers inside you.

“Yes…” you cry, your hips pushing down so they slide all the way inside you, but if you’d been coherent enough to you would have bet he would have done so anyway.

“Jesus…” he hisses, tone strained, and he instantly starts to slip them in and out of you, sinking them in as far as he can each time. “… You’re so fuckin’ wet…”

He groans again when you clench down on his fingers, and it seems to break whatever kind of resolve he was still holding onto, however the hell he was holding on to it.

A pitiful whine of protest escapes you when his fingers pull out, and he just nods swiftly, strands of hair falling over his forehead as he rises up onto his knees.

“I know, sweetheart, I know, just let me… Fuck…”

Lifting your head, you watch him shift backwards until his boots can touch down on the ground, but it’s only a moment before he’s kneeling on the floor and then his hands are wrapping around your thighs, widening them, and then he’s lowering his head and then… and then…

Your mouth drops open wider as your hands dart to his hair, plunging in once again as his tongue licks a long, wide path up your folds.

“Just needed to fuckin’ taste you…” he mumbles against you, the vibration of his voice making you mewl.

If his hands weren’t keeping your thighs apart you would have wrapped them around his head. All you can do, though, is rock your hips and grind against his tongue. He growls with pleasure, and just as you inhale a breath to beg for more, he pushes three fingers inside of you.

Three.

Three of his thick, long fingers slide inside you with no resistance or pain at all, and you throw your head back with a loud cry as you clench around them.

“Fu-uck...” he groans, curling them a little, stroking inside you. “... Look how fuckin’ easy that was, huh... How fuckin’ easy are you gonna take my cock, baby? Huh? Is it gonna slide right in? Fill you all up on the first stroke?”

Again, at any other time, you would have cum right there and then, but... somehow it’s just not enough.

Gritting your teeth, because while it’s not enough, the pleasure is still so fucking good, you release a sound between a sob and a moan.

“Hop’... Fucking need more...”

“You want my cock in you, sweetheart, huh?”

“Please.”

He groans again, and then you hear it.

He’s stroking his cock in swift, firm movements, and you want to be doing that, you want to be touching him, tasting him, pleasuring him, and—

“Want you to cum on my tongue, wanna fuckin’ taste you,” he mumbles against your pussy, lapping at you again, and you have to take in a few ragged breaths before you can speak.

“... Can’t... Not enough... Need your cock...”

“Christ...” He exhales a breath that closely resembles another growl. “... Do you know what hearin’ those words does to me, huh? Oh, you’re gonna cum on my cock, baby, but I’ve fuckin’ dreamed about you cumming in my mouth so you know what you’re gonna do?” He lifts his head, and you open your half-lidded eyes to look at him. “... You’re gonna cum on my tongue.”

And lowering his head again, he sucks hard at your aching clit.

And maybe it is just enough, because your back is arching and you’re pulling at his hair and he’s having to tighten his grip on your thigh and tears of relief or maybe it’s beads of sweat are sliding down your cheeks because yes, yes, yes...

You don’t realise you’re chanting the word as your climax builds, and when it rolls through you, a blissful serenity follows it...

That lasts all of a few seconds before you’re squirming again, the throbbing in your core somehow sharper, more desperate.

Hopper, however, is sucking and licking at you still, lapping up your release as he moans, an arm moving to settle over your lower stomach. Opening your eyes, you gaze down at him and see his hand working over his cock still and you want to move and touch him but his arm is keeping you down and his tongue is continuing to move so deliciously against your cunt.

And then he’s releasing short, sharp groans, and his hips are jerking and his hand is starting to slow, and then he cums, and you can only watch as it trickles down his fingers.

No, no, no, you want to feel him cum, you want it inside you—

He lifts his head, licking his lips, and the hunger still burning in his eyes steals your breath away.

He rises, and you can only watch with ragged breaths as he kicks his boots away and pushes his trousers and boxers off. His dick is still hard, pressed flat against his stomach, tip red and weeping.

“You want my cock? You want my fuckin’ cock inside you...?” he’s murmuring, and your eyes dart up to meet his as you release a breath.

“God, fuck, yes, Hop’...”

“C’mere...” He’s suddenly on top of you, then, cupping the top of your head with his large hand as he props himself up on his elbow. It eases some more of the pain a little, having him crowd you, feeling his skin on yours, but you both know exactly what you need.

His eyes are boring down into yours, and your nails are digging into shoulders, and then, finally, you feel the tip of his cock against your cunt.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck, inside me...” you’re breathing, pleading, half out of your mind with need as you nod.

And then, without any more teasing or talking, his thick cock slides all the way inside you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you cry out and your back arches. Pure pleasure and relief and bliss overwhelms you, and you haven’t even cum on him yet. In fact, he can’t move yet because you’re clenched so tightly around him, your slick walls gripping at him like your cunt doesn’t want him to ever leave.

His breaths are short, sharp, strained, and his hand has moved to rest under your head, a gesture that, at any other time, you would have recognised as tender.

“Oh, fuck, baby... Fuck... Feel every inch of my dick... You feel it, huh?”

Words aren’t possible anymore, so you can only nod, eyes still shut tight, and your breaths fall away into moans as he kisses at your neck, all of them sloppy, uncoordinated, needy, and you suddenly realise he’s murmuring to you.

“... Wanna fuckin’ move, wanna make you feel so fuckin’ good, wanna cum in your wet cunt and feel you cum on me, want you screamin’ my fuckin’ name...”

As if his words were the key, you unclench around him with a whine of desire, and, with a hiss, he instantly draws his hips back and then snaps them forward, sinking fully into you once again.

Fucking lighting zips through your body, you’ve never felt anything like it.

He must feel it, too, because he doesn’t stop for one moment, drawing all the way back and thrusting right back into you to the hilt, each time harder than the last and, distantly, you can hear the headboard smacking against the wall.

“... Good girl... Good fuckin’ girl...” he’s growling through gritted teeth, and you realise you are because you’re doing exactly as he wanted.

You’re shouting his name amongst your moans.

And not even just ‘Hop’ or ‘Hopper’; ‘Jim’ is falling from your lips, and each time he hears it his hips snap forward just that little bit harder.

“Yeah, baby, good fuckin’ girl... Good girl... Fuckin’ Christ... Can you hear how fuckin’ wet you are? Listen to how fuckin’ good you take my cock, baby... Take it... Fuck, take it...”

Nevermind listening, it’s how he feels inside you that’s making sparks skitter across your skin. He fills and stretches you perfectly, dragging and sliding against your sensitive walls deliciously each time. You’re not going to last much longer, the last coherent part of your mind knows, and it nearly makes you sob with both relief and dread.

You never want this fucking feeling to end, it’s all so good, so fucking good but you know it’s just going to feel even better when you cum, when you feel him cum.

Managing to open your eyes, you find his gaze still on you, flicking from your parted lips to your chest.

“... Cum...” you whisper, voice hoarse, and you have to swallow before you try again. “... Cum inside me, please... Want to feel you cum... Fill me with your cum...”

“Yeah?” His jaw is tight, eyes boring into your own again. “... Wanna feel my fuckin’ cum fillin’ you up, baby, huh? Want my fuckin’ cum leaking out of you?”

“Yes”, you chant over and over and over breathlessly, gaze fixed on his, unable to look away because his hips are stuttering in their rhythm, just slightly, but enough that you know.

He’s close.

“Cum, cum for me...” you start to plead now, “... Wanna feel you cum, cum inside me, Jim, please... I need it...”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ need it, baby?” he grunts, voice low, gravelling.

“Yeah, give it to me, please...”

“Take it, fuckin’ take it, take my cum...” He groans sharply then, mouth dropping open. “... Fuck...” His hand darts out from under your head and grips at the bedcovers, and with a few more thrusts, he then buries deep inside you and cums with a shout, eyes shut tight.

And euphoria spreads through you.

You feel his cum spill inside you, and the pleasure that courses through you from the sensation sends you spiralling into your own release. Gripping at his arms, nails digging in probably to the point of pain, you throw your head back and cry out.

It’s unlike any bliss you’ve ever felt before.

For a few moments you may even black out as it rolls through you in wave upon wave upon wave.

Hopper feels closer, as well, as if he’s collapsed slightly but just about managed to hold himself up in time. His lips are against your jaw, and you can feel his panted breaths, his lightly trembling frame.

Oh, you’re trembling, too, can hear it in your own breaths.

At least you can try and calm your heart rate, now, because it must be over, it has to be. It’s been done now, it’s...

It’s...

It’s still there. That strange energy, whatever the hell it is. It’s not as intense now, but it’s there. Enough so that you lick your lips and gaze up at him, finger tips gliding down his arms.

“Hop’... I can still feel it.”

It’s a few moments before his eyes open, and when his gaze meets yours, and you realise he’s still hard inside you, you know before he speaks what he’s going to say.

“... Me, too.”

Neither of you speak, or move, just gaze at each other. Enough sense has returned that you take these few moments to breathe, but not enough that when those moments do start to stretch on... you just can’t help yourself.

Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you start to slowly roll your hips.

His eyes fall shut with a guttural groan, and your involuntary mewl answers him.

When his eyes then snap open, you also can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

“You not satisfied yet?” he murmurs, voice dangerously low, and you shake your head as your tongue glides across your lips.

“Fuck me again, Jim.”

His thumb and forefinger are suddenly gripping your chin, and his lips hover over yours as he exhales a breath.

“It not enough that my cum is fillin’ you up? You need some fuckin’ more?”

“Yeah...” you breathe, trying to lift your chin higher so you can kiss him, but he holds firm.

“You want me to fuck you again, sweetheart?”

“Please, Jim...”

His lips brush against yours, and it’s the lightest of touches, but it’s enough to have you moaning as you rock your hips again.

“Please...”

“Well, seein’ as you’ve been a good fuckin’ girl...”

Pulling back, he rises up onto his knees, and pulls out of you. You mewl softly at feeling empty now, but you’re instantly distracted by his hands gripping your thighs, keeping them parted wide, and the fact his eyes are fixed on your cunt.

“Fuck... Your pussy looks so pretty with my cum spilling out of it...”

Fucking hell.

“Hop’, please, fuck me, I need you again, I need your cock—”

“I know, baby, I know.” Your words have his gaze tearing away and returning to your own, and he releases your thighs with a groan. “Turn over. On your stomach.”

You don’t need telling twice.

Except you have your own demand.

“Take your shirt off, I want to feel all of you.”

When his fingers fly to the buttons of it and start undoing them, then you roll over onto your front, resting your cheek against the covers.

You hear him toss it aside, and then his fingers are sliding down your back, over your ass and to your cunt. His fingertips caress your pussy lips lightly, gliding up and down, and your eyes fall shut at the gentle waves of pleasure that pulse through you. He’s toying with your mixed cum, gently pushing it back inside you and spreading it along your cunt.

“Jesus Christ...” he breathes, half in awe, half aroused.

Any other time you would have left him indulge himself for as long as he wanted, but the desperate need inside you is growing once more.

“Jim... Fuck me...”

You’ve only just finished pleading him, when his cock sinks inside you, this time in a slow, long thrust.

As your mouth drops open in a high moan, your fingers gripping onto the covers, he releases a long groan, eyes fixed on his dick disappearing inside you.

“Fuck, look at that...” His hands grip your ass, spreading you open wider. “... Take me so fuckin’ good... So fuckin’ good...”

Your eyes nearly roll back when you close them, as he starts to repeatedly give you slow, long thrusts, watching his own cock spread your soaked lips apart. You’re nearly delirious with pleasure, cunt pulsing around him, and when you feel him move, you can’t even open your eyes.

He settles over you, holding himself up on his forearm while his other hand slides under your neck and grips it gently, making you lift your head, tipping it back a little.

And now his lips are right against your ear.

“Fucking perfection... Like you were fuckin’ made for my cock, huh, sweetheart?”

You can only moan in reply as his thrusts speed up a little.

The position you’re now in somehow makes it feel more delicious than before, like his cock is somehow filling you even more. You now focus on the lewd sounds caused by how wet your pussy is, too, and it’s so lewd, so filthy and hot that it’s making your stomach clench.

You must clench around him again, too, because he inhales a ragged breath before speaking.

“You gonna cum for me again?”

“Yeah...” you breathe, mind starting to turn blank.

“Gonna cum on my hard cock? Soak it and the fuckin’ bed?”

“Please...”

It feels more intense this time, the mounting pleasure, and your fingers twist into the bed covers as you try and ground yourself. He’s murmuring into your ear still, hand on your throat still gentle.

“... what a good fuckin’ girl you are, taking my cock so good, gonna take my cum again, huh? How many times can I cum in this pretty little pussy, how many times can I fill you up until you’re satisfied, huh...”

It’s all too much, too good...

Your orgasm crashes over you.

Your brow dipping, your mouth dropping open, a scream is pulled from your throat, and the world goes dark.

—

Your eyes snap open.

Oh, fuck.

There’s a slight pounding in your head, the beginnings of a headache most likely from dehydration.

Annoying.

When did I last have a drink, though? Or eat? Must’ve been...

Oh.

It all comes flooding back to you.

That... That actually happened?

Releasing a soft groan, you lift a heavy hand to try and rub at your forehead—

Another hand catches it, and the space beside you dips slightly.

“Hey, hey, woah, you okay?”

Your gaze darts to the source, and you find Hopper sat there, concern etched across his features. You don’t have time to think about it or answer, though, as he swiftly releases your hand and a glass of water suddenly appears before you.

“Here, drink this.”

Sitting up a little, you drink deeply, your throat dry, raw, actually, and the entire contents is nearly gone when you finally lower it, gasping a breath in.

He takes the glass from you, placing it on the bedside table, and as you lick your lips and adjust against the pillows, he watches you, fingers rubbing against his mouth.

Clearing his throat after a few moments, he ask quietly, “You okay?”

Is it too soon to tell him that was probably the best fuck of your life?

Raising your eyebrows, a light smile pulls at your lips. “Yeah. A little sore, but...” Your smile fades as he looks down at his hands, his jaw moving. “... Oh, Hop’, I didn’t—”

He can’t look at you, his head shaking. “I am so... I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey, no, don’t be.” Leaning forward, you place your hand on his arm, hating that he stiffens. “We couldn’t control ourselves—”

“I could’ve, I could’ve held out longer, I could’ve locked myself in that fucking bathroom, I just...” He looks fucking devastated.

Shifting closer, you wrap your other hand around his arm, tightening your grip. “You shouldn’t be sorry. I mean it. I...” Well, it’s now or fucking never, and all things considered... “... I wanted it, Hop’. Even without that aphrodisiac thing. I wanted you. I have for a long time.”

Your face is burning and your heart is pounding but relief settles on your shoulders the moment you finish speaking.

His head turns towards you now, gaze darting to meet yours, searching it. “You... You’re not lyin’ to me?”

Your lips lifting again, you shake your head before murmuring, “No.”

Hopper exhales a breath, his hand setting over both of yours. “I’ve... Fuck, I’ve wanted you, too. Just... I imagined it going a little differently.”

You give a soft laugh as delight overwhelms you, and his thumb brushes against your skin. “Yeah, we really skipped the first date, didn’t we.”

“In the traditional sense.” He smiles as you laugh again, but it’s gone just as soon as it arrived. “... You sure you’re okay?”

You don’t care how foolish you look, with your tender smile, gaze openly filled with affection. Probably because his gaze is exactly the same.

“I am. Really. It’s a good sore.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your teeth graze over your lower lip. “I wouldn’t mind getting used to it.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’d hoped you’d say that...”

Cupping your cheek, he closes the gap between you and kisses you tenderly, the pad of his thumb brushing against your skin gently. It’s sweet, gentler than you had ever imagined him to be.

It’s perfect.

When his lips leave yours but he remains close, you smile again. “I guess we can give Murray a thorough review, then.”

He growls quietly as he brushes his nose against yours. “Don’t talk about that man right now...”

As he moves closer, laying you back on the bed, your arms slide around his neck and your smile widens.

“Yes, Chief.”

—

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Apologies to those Tumblr won’t let me tag!

#jim hopper x reader #chief hopper x reader #hopper x reader #chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper smut #my writing #flamehairedwritings #just a goofy sexy time

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months

Note

Hello my love! ❤️

Another for you, if you’re still taking them, though of course feel free to ignore this for any reason (or even no reason) at all!

I would love to see what you can do with Steddie and James Arthur’s “Car’s Outside”. I feel like this is one Eddie would write for Steve, maybe after an argument..? 👀

I had to look this one up because I’d never heard it before and this is some emotional stuff I wasn’t prepared for but should’ve been when you said maybe after an argument 😭

Touring the country had been his dream for so long that when it became a reality, he forgot what was most important.

It happened to a lot of rockstars.

His reality check came like lightning, fast and sharp.

“I’m just trying to understand, Stevie. You wanted me to do this. You told me to go on the tours and record the albums. You supported me. What changed?”

“You did.”

That was the last thing Steve said to him over a week ago.

All he knew now was that Steve was back in Hawkins staying with Wayne and hadn’t told him much other than he wouldn’t take up too much room for long.

Wayne didn’t tell him anything except that Steve was alive and safe, but didn’t seem to be taking care of himself well.

The first two days, all Eddie felt was anger. He was full of contempt for Steve suddenly changing his mind about Eddie’s life and dreams.

But the third day was when it hit him that Steve left.

He’d avoided everyone after that, only answered the phone in case it was him calling and hanging up if it wasn’t him.

He barely got out of bed, barely ate, didn’t even go into the bedroom converted into a music room to play his guitar.

The next tour was set to start in two weeks and he didn’t think he could go, not like this, not without Steve here waiting for him.

- - - - -

Wayne called the night before he was leaving for the tour, said he needed to come to Hawkins, but wouldn’t say why.

“Are you sick or hurt?”

“No, Ed.”

“…is Steve?”

“Just get here.”

So Eddie did.

He called the guys and told them he would meet them at their first stop in New York in three days, that he had a family emergency and couldn’t travel on the bus with them.

When he got to Hawkins, he felt like turning right around and leaving.

He hadn’t been back in years; Wayne always came to see them for holidays and visits.

Nothing has changed, not even the trailer Wayne insisted on still living in, even when Eddie offered to buy him something nicer.

Steve’s car sat in the driveway next to Wayne’s truck, just like it did before they’d moved to Chicago to try to make Eddie’s dream happen.

Eddie parked next to him, the rental from the airport much cleaner and nicer than anything else around here, but not in a good way.

It clicked suddenly, that Eddie wasn’t the same. That the guy who used to drive a beat up van and live in this trailer and loved Steve so much it felt like a physical ache when he wasn’t around wasn’t here.

He walked up to the door, knocking like this wasn’t his home just five years ago.

Wayne answered, sullen face making his chest tight with worry.

“Where is he?”

“He’s asleep finally. Come on in, son. Have a seat.”

“What happened?”

Wayne sighed.

“He’s been overworking himself and not sleeping or eating, and it finally caught up to him. He’s had a migraine for three days now, longest I’ve seen. Can barely sit up to sip water but begged me not take him to the hospital.”

Eddie’s fists clenched.

“Why wouldn’t he go?”

Wayne blinked at him.

“Son, you’re not an idiot despite the way you’ve been actin’ for a while. Think about it.”

Wayne walked to the kitchen and started packing his lunchbox.

“Where are you going?”

“I got a shift to get to. Steve shouldn’t be alone.”

Eddie stayed on the couch for the next two hours, his brain shifting through thoughts that quickly turned into song lyrics.

He wrote them down, but barely focused on what he was writing. Now wasn’t really a great time to be producing something new.

He heard a groan from his old bedroom and shot up from the couch, making his way to the end of the hall and entering the room without a second thought.

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, body hunched and eyes closed, pain a physical presence through every inch of him.

“Stevie,” Eddie choked out.

Steve’s head shot up. He winced in pain, but the tears in his eyes didn’t seem to have much to do with that as Eddie got closer.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wayne called.”

“And?”

“If you need me, I’m gonna be here.”

Steve looked away, his eyes closing as he turned his head.

“That’s not how things have been.”

It hurt, but he was right. It hadn’t been how things have been. Not for a while.

“I know. I…I don’t think sorry is enough for any of it, but I am. I’m sorry. So sorry, Stevie.”

Steve looked at him, the haze of the migraine keeping a lot of emotion off his face.

“Yeah. Okay.”

It wasn’t forgiveness, and forgiveness wasn’t deserved yet, but it was a start. And when Steve let Eddie get him water and medicine, and play with his hair, it felt like a start.

- - - - -

Eddie had to go.

If he didn’t go, he’d miss the first show of the tour.

He’d be in deep shit, and the guys would hate him, and he would never make music again.

His manager called him every four hours at Wayne’s asking when his flight would be and he always said “when things are right with Steve.”

It started to feel like that might not happen.

But something about the way Steve was slowly letting him in, allowing him to care for him more every day, gave him hope that he could get him back, get them back.

Wayne didn’t say much to him, didn’t have to. The way he watched was enough to know how Wayne felt about him, this situation.

But he didn’t go.

Steve’s migraine was gone, but he still needed Eddie, still needed to see that he was the priority.

Eddie needed to show him that he mattered more than his band, because he did. He always had and always would.

He missed the last flight that would’ve gotten him there on time.

He called the guys to let them know, to apologize, to tell them that he had to do what was best for him.

They understood, but told him their manager was livid and probably would try to replace him instead of postpone the tour.

He didn’t care at this point.

He’d gotten his taste of fame and it was bittersweet.

Steve stood in the doorway when Eddie hung up the phone, watching him with his arms crossed as Eddie covered his face in his hands.

“You’re not going?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Eddie dropped his hands and sighed.

“If I have to pick, then I pick you. I’ll always pick you.”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

“You think I want you to pick between me and your career?”

“Yes. That’s why you left, isn’t it?”

Steve shook his head.

“I left because you forgot that I was a choice at all,” Steve’s voice sounded choked. “I left because I didn’t even think you’d care if I did. You didn’t seem to care much about leaving me anymore.”

Eddie’s heart couldn’t possibly break more.

“Sweetheart, of course I care. I’m here because I can’t lose you. If it’s you or the band, then it’s you. Always.”

Steve let out a sob.

“I didn’t want you to choose me instead of your career. I wanted you to recognize that choosing your career didn’t have to mean not choosing me.”

“Oh, my love.”

Eddie pulled Steve against him, holding the back of his head against his chest, other hand running up and down his back slowly.

“You’re always my first choice. I’m sorry I forgot to show you that. I’m sorry you ever had to feel like you weren’t even an option. You’re the most important choice I’ve ever made and I’m going to keep choosing you every day. Even if it means giving up the band. None of that means shit to me if I don’t have you.”

Steve nodded against his chest.

They stayed like that for so long, Wayne came home, nodded and smiled from the doorway of the kitchen.

- - - - -

Steve came with him.

He called his manager the next day, said it was non-negotiable that Steve be with them for this tour.

The band was on his side, of course. They loved Steve and they loved Eddie and the last thing they wanted was to see either of them hurting.

The first time he performed the song he wrote while he was in limbo with Steve, he let the crowd know what was most important in his life.

“Gonna slow it down a bit for this next one. Sometimes this life has some downsides, hard to believe, right? It’s hard to maintain who you are when you’re being pulled in so many directions. But I’m lucky to have someone who keeps me grounded. Leaving them for tour wasn’t an option this time around, and I’m glad they’re here with me. I wrote this a couple weeks ago when we were having a hard time. I wasn’t being the partner they needed, and I wasn’t showing them that they’re the partner I want. I’m not loving you from afar anymore, sweetheart.”

Steve watched from his spot backstage, like he did every night.

He didn’t feel like an option anymore, he felt like the choice.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #headcanon #rockstar eddie munson #angst with a happy ending

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supernovafics · 11 months

Text

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 6.3k words

summary: in which the summer of ‘84 was both the best and worst time of your life

warnings: explicit language, underaged drinking, angst, fluff, implied smut, cheating

author’s note: second part to cardigan (but could be read out of order). i fully did not expect this to end up this long but hope y’all enjoy<33 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“but i can see us lost in the memory. august slipped away into a moment in time.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

July 19, 1984

Ten.

That was how many days in a row you and Steve had seen each other.

From the first time you two talked to one another outside of Ralph’s Sandwich Shop, his first ever words to you being, “Potato chips on a sandwich? That’s kinda weird,” and the conversation that proceeded from that somehow led you to watching a movie in the theater room at his house that same night. To now this— him spending the majority of his afternoon with you at the library, where you had been working for the past year and a half.

You wondered how long the two of you would keep the streak alive.

If it was anyone else you probably would have gotten sick of seeing them that many days in a row, but with Steve you weren’t. In fact, you looked forward to whenever you got to see him again. And maybe that feeling, the anticipation toward seeing this guy who you probably shouldn’t even be seeing this often anyway, should’ve worried you.

Whenever you thought about how easily the two of you were able to go from absolutely nothing to this— an unlikely friendship that somehow felt like you’d known each other so much longer than barely two weeks— it startled you.

Before, you had simply known of him; of course, you had, he was practically royalty at your high school. “King Steve,” a charmer, a perpetual flirter, somehow dating straight-A student Nancy Wheeler. It was the combination of those things that told you during that first conversation you had with him that you should stay away from him, but for some reason, you still said yes.

Maybe it was because the home theater he had been bragging about sounded way too tempting not to take up the offer. Or maybe it was because you liked being an idiot sometimes.

If it was the latter that was true then you still were an idiot because there you were ten days later still hanging out with him and not regretting it one bit.

“I need to bring you better games here,” Steve said. He was standing across from you on the other side of the counter.

“What’s wrong with Uno? Is it because you keep losing?” You jokingly asked, a small smile on your face as you started shuffling the deck. “Also, I’m technically working right now, so I shouldn’t even be playing any games with you.”

“There’s no one here except you and me,” He said and then gestured to the quietness that surrounded you both. “Actually, I think the only other person that’s been in here all day was that old lady who just wanted directions to the park.”

You loved your job at the library and you really didn’t mind how it was rarely busy, especially during the summer, because it meant that you could spend most of your shifts reading instead of helping someone find what they needed or reshelving books. Now the majority of your non-busy moments during your shift were spent with Steve.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked as you began dealing the cards, because what else was there to do but play another round of Uno?

“My guess is hanging out with you,” You answered. “What’s happening?”

“Party,” He stated simply, and you realized that probably should’ve been your first guess. “Need us to be beer pong partners again.”

It had been last week, two days after you and Steve unspokenly decided that hanging out with one another would become a common occurrence, when he dragged you to a party; some too big thing at Matthew Lancaster’s lake house.

A beer pong table was set up, which was not all surprising for a high school party, and you suggested that you and Steve play and be on a team with one another. You were insanely good, practically making every shot, and Steve wasn’t too bad at playing either, which made your team pretty unstoppable. It was a random hidden talent of yours that you would only show off every once in a blue moon because you deliberately didn’t frequent parties.

“I’ve retired for the time being,” You told him. “I can’t show off my beer pong skills too often or it won’t be a cool talent anymore.”

He laughed a bit at that but still nodded. “Okay, what do you wanna do tonight instead?”

“Don’t let me stop you from going to the party.”

Steve shrugged and shook his head. “Probably wouldn’t be fun without you, anyway.”

His words confused you as much as they made you feel so happy. And you quickly pushed that “happy” feeling away because you knew just how fast it could lead to feeling other things; things that would make you look like the worst person in the world.

Once again, you wondered why you were doing this. Why were you allowing yourself to get close to him when you’d probably just look like an idiot in the end? And why had he wanted to talk to you in the first place? Those fleeting questions would hit you a lot over the past few days, but you’d quickly push them away because you didn’t want to think too hard about everything. However, this time you couldn’t force them away.

“Why?” You asked, breaking eye contact with him for the first time probably that entire afternoon. “Why… are we friends right now?”

If he was surprised or confused by the randomness of your question, he didn’t show it.

“I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you that day, so I did it,” He made the answer sound so simple. “I didn’t really expect it to turn into this friendship, but it’s nice finally having something that actually feels so easy.”

What about you and Nancy wasn’t easy?

You wanted to ask that but refrained from doing so. He probably didn’t mean her when he said that. You knew that the only reason why he was with you instead of her, and had been for the past ten days, was because she was out of town for the summer. That thought hurt a bit, knowing that you were essentially some sort of “consolation prize,” but it kept you from looking too much into things. You took everything Steve said that could be read as flirtatious with a grain of salt and forced yourself to see it as solely platonic.

And you’d rather it all be completely platonic anyway because you really liked the friendship you’d developed with him.

“You’re right. This does feel easy,” You ultimately responded, smiling at him because now that the unspoken lines were finally verbally drawn— the two of you were friends; nothing more, nothing less— you felt the tiniest bit better about it all. “But, I’m glad it does. I’m happy we’re friends.”

Steve smiled back at you. “Me too.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“you back beneath the sun. wishin’ i could write my name on it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

July 28, 1984

The only reason why you allowed Steve to bring you to this party was because you were a sucker for a bonfire.

And the only reason why you were currently drunk off your ass was because you couldn’t say no to a game of hide and seek, especially a drinking version of the childish game, which Steve had suggested and you quickly agreed to.

There was something about this game that made you realize that maybe your entire friendship was a game; a game of who would break first. But, that was something to think about at a different time. Or actually not at all, because thinking further about that would probably only complicate things.

It was easy to pretend that there was nothing more to you and him when you both were sober. It was also so much easier to lie to yourself that you didn’t feel anything romantic toward him and that you didn’t see that maybe he actually felt the same way too.

There was a constant back and forth happening in your mind, with you continuously telling yourself that being friends with Steve wasn’t a bad idea, even though maybe it was because it was slowly making you want something more. Sometimes it felt as if it made sense to like him; it felt obvious. The way you could talk to each other about anything and everything mixed with how constantly you two wanted to spend time together made you fall in so deep so fast.

But, you couldn’t accept or think about any of that, and the reasons why were painfully obvious.

However, with the alcohol currently clouding your brain, that felt like a slightly different story.

“Sitting behind a tree? Not your best hiding spot.”

Hearing Steve’s voice right then should’ve made you feel at least the tiniest bit upset because it meant that you lost that round of hide and seek, but you drunkenly smiled up at him.

“I wanted to be original and we’ve been playing for so long I feel like we’ve done everything else at this point. But, that was at least two minutes, though, right?”

“It was actually barely thirty seconds.”

“Oh, wow,” You said with a laugh as you extended a hand up toward him so that he could help you up. You wobbled a bit before getting your balance and then you grabbed the red solo cup in Steve’s free hand to drink the rest of what was left in it as your punishment for losing; the exact contents of the drink were unknown, but it tasted fruity.

When you were done, you handed the cup back to him and then leaned back against the tree because it somehow felt nice and you weren’t bothered by the roughness of it touching the parts of your skin that the tank top you were wearing didn’t cover.

There were a ton of people at the infamous “Lover’s Lake” because of the party, but nobody had been paying attention to you and Steve running around like five-year-olds playing hide and seek and getting severely drunk in the process.

The lopsided grin taking over Steve’s features let you know that he was just as inebriated as you were, maybe even more so because he’d been drinking a bit before you two started the game.

“Maybe we should be done with hide and seek now.”

You gave him a nod. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Things became quiet for a few moments with the two of you solely staring at each other in the darkness and ignoring the loud rowdiness of everyone else who was only a few feet away. Steve closed a bit of the distance between you both and leaned in close to you; his gaze flickered down to your lips for a hint of a second before going right back to your eyes.

If this was any other moment, your mind would be running a million miles a minute, screaming at you to not allow the inevitable to happen. But, somehow, you were actually calm.

“We can’t do that, friend,” You told him, making your voice sound as serious as possible, but you couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“I know,” He responded but still shut the final space of distance between you both, bypassing your lips and kissing your cheek instead. “That’s okay, though, right?”

The reasonable side of you was obviously telling you to say “no,” but it was hard to make yourself care enough to listen to it. “I’ll allow it.”

The three words came out so quietly, but Steve heard you. He kissed your other cheek and then your forehead and then your nose before pulling away and smiling at you.

Before he could say anything, you did the same to him; kissing both of his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose, and then pulling back to lean against the tree again. That time it was your eyes that glanced down at his lips before going back to his eyes.

You were so close to doing it, and he almost begged you to, but then you were pushing off of the tree and asking him to turn around.

“Piggyback ride to the car, please?”

“We can’t drive right now,” He said as he leaned down a bit so you could hop onto his back.

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “I know, but I will die if I don’t sit down.”

The walk to your car should’ve taken less than a minute, but instead, it nearly took five because, of course, the two of you got a little lost and it took way too long to realize that the first car you had walked past was yours.

“God, we’re acting like such idiots right now,” You said, laughing as Steve let you down so you could get into the car.

He laughed too as he got in on the passenger side. “Yeah, definitely not our finest moment.”

You sighed in contentment when you leaned back against the seat, immediately finding comfort in it, which definitely said a lot about how drunk and exhausted you were because you never usually found your car as super comfortable.

You turned on your side to face Steve, and as if feeling your gaze on him, he turned to look at you as well. You silently admired each other. Sometimes it felt as if a thousand things were being said in the silences you two shared with one another, things that would probably always be left unsaid.

“I really like you,” He whispered suddenly and you realized that maybe not everything silently said would be left unspoken.

You let out a small breath before closing your eyes because it felt too hard to look at him right then. “I really like you too.”

“Please let me kiss you.”

It was difficult to describe exactly what his words managed to do to you, and you tried your hardest to disregard those feelings.

“We can’t.” You shook your head, eyes still shut. “It’ll ruin everything.”

“What if that’s okay?” He said, voice still quiet.

It could’ve been easy.

To finally do what you both had desperately wanted to do for weeks at this point, but had refused to admit. And doing it at this moment instead of any other time because, with the drunken states you both were in, none of this would be remembered. Which would also mean that it didn’t really happen, right?

Your eyes finally opened and you looked at him. “Neither of us is gonna remember this conversation in the morning.”

“You’re probably right.”

“And if you did, you’d regret saying any of this,” You said, and your words were met with silence from him. You couldn’t tell if that meant that they were the truth, or instead, quite far from it.

Even in your inebriated state, you were too scared to push him further and get an answer because you were unsure which response would be worse; “Yes, I’d regret it,” or “No, I wouldn’t regret it at all.”

Before he could potentially say a version of either of those responses, you began speaking again. “I’m really tired.”

You then pulled your eyes away from him and looked straight ahead at the people that were still partying around the fire. A part of you wanted to join them, but the other part of you just wanted to fall asleep.

“Me too,” Steve said and with how long he had been quiet, you were actually surprised to hear his voice right then.

Both of you fell asleep just like that for the time being, putting an end to a conversation that would not be talked about in the morning because just as you’d both assumed, it seemed as if it had been long forgotten.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“salt air, and the rust on your door. i never needed anything more. whispers of ‘are you sure?’ ‘never have i ever before.’”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

July 31, 1984

The sun had long ago set behind the trees, but you and Steve still had no plans to leave his pool anytime soon.

You swam close to him, your hands finding his shoulders and then pushing down to dunk him under the water. A laugh fell from your lips as you immediately started swimming away, but Steve’s hand quickly found your waist and pulled you back toward him.

“What was that for?” He asked, one arm still wrapped around you, causing your back to be firmly pressed against his chest, while his other hand pushed back his wet hair.

“For pushing me in the pool earlier,” You answered, only trying for a moment to wriggle out of his grasp but failing miserably so you stopped.

“That was hours ago.”

“Revenge is best when you don’t see it coming,” You said, smiling widely.

He laughed against your ear. “You’re evil.”

You attempted to pull away again but he was still holding on to you, so instead you maneuvered so you were simply facing him instead.

You were smiling up at him, and you assumed he’d match it with a smile of his own, but he didn’t. Instead, there was a certain look on his face that you couldn’t necessarily decipher. You almost asked him what was wrong, but he started speaking before you got the chance to.

“I remember the conversation we had in your car at the bonfire.”

You could feel your heart start to race a bit, not expecting things to take that turn. “Oh… You do?”

He nodded his head. “Do you?”

“I remember the whole thing,” You told him, and that was entirely true. You’d spent the past few days constantly thinking about that moment and running through every single thing that was said. You had also tried your hardest to push the memory away because it seemed as if Steve didn’t remember it.

“I don’t regret anything I said,” He told you and then a hand came up to cup your cheek. “I still really wanna kiss you.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting Steve’s words settle over you, before responding to him in a small voice. “Are you sure?”

Instead of verbally responding, he gave you the smallest of nods and closed the tiny bit of space between you both, dipping his head down and slotting his lips against yours.

All you could think at that moment was finally.

Finally, you were this close to one another.

Finally, you were kissing.

Finally, you were doing what you had wanted to do for so long.

The thing that both of you told each other and even convinced yourselves wasn’t going to happen, finally happened. And in a way, it sucked because neither of you felt bad about it, at least not bad enough to stop.

Your legs wrapped around his waist beneath the water and your arms came up to wrap around his neck, one hand finding its way into the hair at the nape of his neck.

You weren’t in the deepest part of the pool anymore so Steve was able to stand, but both of you were still almost completely submerged in the water. He walked you both over to one of the sides of the pool, pressing you back against it and deepening the kiss.

Nothing was said, and nothing needed to be said. In fact, you thought that if either of you said something, it would ruin the perfection that was that moment and harshly shove you both back to reality. A reality that told you that this was the farthest thing that should have been happening.

For the time being, with Steve against you and his lips finding that particularly sensitive part of your neck, you were happy living in this fantasy world. It was a dream that you didn’t want to wake up from, and you convinced yourself that it wouldn’t hurt too bad when you did finally have to wake up from it.

“We should…” You took a breath, biting back the moan that threatened to spill from your lips as Steve continued the assault on your neck. Your next word should’ve been “stop,” but stopping this was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. “We should go to your room.”

He finally, and sadly, pulled away from your neck and pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “That sounds like a great idea.”

You detached yourselves from one another just enough to step out of the pool and into his house, wet bodies leaving drops of water across the floor that weren’t the slightest bit cared about.

You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

After getting as close as you just had been, it was hard to go back to how it used to be; the friendliness and innocence that had surrounded the brief touches you two would usually share. Instead, your hand was intertwined with his as he led you up the stairs, and then his arms circled around you when you entered his room, cocooning you in the towel he’d grabbed from behind his door.

It was you that kissed him that second time.

You reached up to push his wet hair back and then leaned in, inwardly sighing in contentment. Both of his hands found your waist, causing the towel to fall and it was immediately long forgotten.

When you pulled away you took the smallest step back and simply looked at him, his pretty face and soft brown eyes that were full of nothing but adoration for you. You tried your hardest to find something within you that resembled regret or made you want to stop this, but you couldn’t. And you knew exactly what that said about you, but it was also difficult to force yourself to care about that either.

Steve eagerly brought you close to him again, which made you smile into the kiss he pulled you into. He slowly started leading you back toward his bed.

“Wait,” You said, detaching your lips from his and softly pushing him back a bit. “It would be really rude of me to lay on your bed with my bathing suit on.”

He slowly nodded and swallowed harshly as you removed your top first, letting that fall to the floor, and then going to your bottoms. “That’s very considerate of you.”

You only smiled at him and his sudden nervousness, which managed to wash away any and all of your own shyness at that moment.

His eyes met yours. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” You whispered, reaching out to grab his hands and pull him close to you again. You were about to kiss him again, but it was then that you noticed the time on the clock that was hanging on the wall behind him. “Shit, shit.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a look of concern crossed his face. “What’s wrong?”

“The time,” You answered and then sighed as you started grabbing your bathing suit. “It’s 12:40, and if I’m not home by one, my mom will kill me and then you.”

“Your mom loves me too much to kill me,” Steve responded, grabbing a t-shirt for you to slip on too.

“Yeah, kinda weird how after only one meeting where you two barely even talked, she somehow likes you more than me now,” You said as you put on his shirt which kind of swallowed you whole but you loved it and already knew that you would never be giving it back to him.

You looked up at him and your next words came out quietly. “I’m sorry I have to ruin this right now.”

Steve shook his head at you. “It’s okay. Don’t be sorry.” Both of his hands found your hips again, squeezing softly. “We’ll pick up where we left off next time.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Next time?”

“Mhm, next time,” He said, smiling back at you and nodding. “If you want there to be one?”

“I’d like that,” You responded and pressed a quick kiss against his lips.

Even as you headed back downstairs and Steve walked you to your car, kissing you for a few more minutes before you reluctantly drove away, your stomach had yet to fill with even a hint of regret or guilt.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“wanting was enough. for me, it was enough. to live for the hope of it all.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

August 12, 1984

The constant sound of something softly pinging against your window pulled your attention away from the book you were reading in your bed.

There was only one person that could've been throwing something at your window, but still, you were the tiniest bit surprised when you opened your curtains and saw Steve standing on your front lawn.

Even though seeing him was such a natural thing at this point, it made sense that you were at least a little surprised because no part of you felt secure with this “thing” you had going on with him, which was more than just a friendship but so much less than any type of actual relationship. You lived in the perpetual state that it would all abruptly end. And maybe that thought process came from you knowing that eventually, this would all have to come to an end; there weren’t that many days of summer left.

But then there was that tiny slither of hope that maybe it all wouldn’t have to end. You kept that thought buried deep down inside of you, though.

You lifted your window. “Throwing rocks at my window? That’s very rom-com of you.”

“Sometimes I like to be cheesy,” Steve said, smiling at you.

It was a sweet, adoring smile that you shouldn’t have been on the receiving end of; it was a smile that didn’t belong to you. It was so easy to see that, but it was nearly impossible to actually do something about it and let him go.

“Can I come up?” He asked. “I promise I’ll be quiet and your mom won’t hear me.”

“She’s gone for the weekend, actually,” You told him, smiling a bit. “I’ll be down in a second.”

When you opened the front door, he was quick to greet you with a kiss before pulling you in for a hug.

After that first kiss in his pool, there was an almost immediate shift that happened. An easy shift where you’d gone from constantly telling yourselves that everything was solely platonic to finally allowing yourselves to do every little thing that deep down you both had always wanted to do. With him now always greeting you with soft kisses, and you secretly spending so many nights in his bed because his parents were never home and most of the time it was easy to make up some sort of excuse to your mom.

Something else shifted too, though. It was a shift that neither of you spoke about because you never really wanted to acknowledge what exactly your friendship had transformed into and what it really meant. Not talking about any of it was a decision that you were unsure if it was completely yours or his because it was all so unspoken.

When you thought about it hard enough though, you could see that the decision was mutual, because on both sides it was easier to pretend that none of the outside things existed. In that fairytale, he didn’t have a girlfriend, he didn’t belong to anyone else. You were his and he was solely yours.

“Tell me about this thing that your parents forced you to go to tonight,” You said as Steve kicked off his shoes by the front door and the two of you started heading up the stairs. One of his hands was intertwined with yours and there was barely an inch of space between you both. It had become really hard not to be close to one another.

“It was this big event for my dad’s job, and they always drag me to stuff like that as a way to prove to his coworkers that they’re ‘good parents.’ It was very boring,” Steve responded with a small sigh and then gave your hand a light squeeze. “It would’ve been much less painful if you came.”

He sat down on the foot of your bed when the two of you walked into your room, and the oversized t-shirt you had on as your pajamas rode up a lot as you settled yourself in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs and hands resting on his shoulders. It was an un-innocent position that, for the time being, felt quite the opposite.

“Going to something like that is something a girlfriend would do, not…” That was the first time you’d even minorly referred to Nancy, and it felt both weird and wrong. It woke you up for a second and made you falter a bit in your next words, breaking Steve’s gaze. “Not a… friend.”

One of his hands found the side of your thigh, rubbing the skin softly and trying to pull you back into this moment with him. You could feel him reading you so easily and knowing where your mind was going, and he didn’t want you to go there, and neither did you.

You didn’t want this– you and him, him and you– to break just yet.

“Um, anyway, you didn’t tell me that it would be so formal,” You said, gesturing with your head to the suit he was wearing.

Your eyes met his again and you could see the relief wash over his face because you didn’t bring up the unspoken topic. Things shifted right back to normal. Well, the normal that you two created for yourselves.

“I feel kinda ridiculous, and I hate this bow tie,” He responded, hand continuing to rub your thigh. “I should’ve probably changed before I came here but I just really wanted to see you.”

You let his words further push away any thoughts of Nancy that lingered in your mind, thoughts that finally told you that what you were doing with him was wrong.

“Stop. You look good,” You told him, your fingers playing with the bow tie for a brief moment. “Like, really good.”

“Okay, now I’m really glad that I didn’t change, then.” He smiled before leaning in to kiss you.

You only deepened the kiss in response and focused on nothing but the feeling of his mouth on yours and his hands beginning to snake underneath your shirt.

He pulled back, maneuvering things so you were sitting at the foot of the bed and he was standing. The black suit jacket he had on was the first thing to fall on the floor. You slipped your t-shirt over your head and tossed it to the side before helping him unbutton the long sleeve white shirt he had on.

His hands found your bare waist and squeezed softly. “I’m so fucking happy I’m here right now.”

“Me too,” You responded and then sighed in contentment, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment, when you felt his thumb graze over your already hard nipple.

Sometimes, usually in moments like these, it felt as if it was your sole purpose to be with him; canceling your plans just in case he’d call or show up, and meeting solely at his place, or yours, or the library.

How deeply intertwined you felt with him let you know exactly how much it would hurt when this all came to its eventual end. But then you were hit with the thought that maybe you would deserve it because you put yourself in this situation.

Steve’s hand came up to gently stroke your cheek and pull you out of your thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

Your gaze met his as you shook your head. “Nothing important.”

But, maybe it was the most important thing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i remember thinkin' i had you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

August 23, 1984

You expected to see him that night.

So maybe him unexpectedly showing up to the library– which was now busy with a bunch of kids scrambling to do their summer reading assignments– was what should have told you that everything was about to go to shit.

“Hey,” You said to him and placed the book in your hand in its rightful place on the shelf and then did the same thing with the other one you were holding. “I didn’t think I’d see you until tonight.”

Steve was quiet for a few moments too long, which made you look at him, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when you saw the look on his face. It was hard to exactly decipher his expression because it looked as if he was experiencing a thousand different emotions at once.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice quiet.

“I got a call from Nancy,” He told you, and you nearly flinched at hearing him saying her name to you for the first time ever. “She said she’s coming back tonight.”

“Oh…” Was the first thing that fell from your lips. It was the word that perfectly encompassed your initial shock at that moment. “That’s, um– That’s really, uh…” You almost said “great,” because if the circumstances were different and if things were actually normal between you two, it probably would’ve been great that his girlfriend was coming back after being gone for almost two months. But, things were far from normal and the circumstances weren’t different at all, so you were at a loss for words.

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, but what was really probably only seconds, you said something. “I really don’t know what to say to that, honestly.”

“I’m sorry,” He said softly and pulled his eyes away from you. He looked down and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I guess we, uh, both know what that means.”

“Say it, Steve.” You muttered. You had to hear him say the words in order for it all to be real for you. You couldn’t take all of the unspoken, reading-between-the-lines bullshit.

He was quiet for an unbearable amount of time before he finally spoke. “We can’t see each other anymore.”

From the second he kissed you in his pool nearly a month ago, you knew that those words would ultimately come. Each happy day that passed with you tangled up in his bedsheets or cuddled up on his couch laughing about nothing was leading to this moment.

It had all been so inevitable, but it still hurt harder than you had expected it to. You quickly decided to pretend as if it didn’t, though.

You nodded at him. “Okay. Got it.”

“I’m sorry. This shouldn’t– I didn’t–”

“Don’t,” You quickly shook your head, not at all wanting to hear whatever pitying thing he would say to you at that moment. “Please don’t.”

You were suddenly glad that you were at work right then because you could distract yourself from thoughts of him and everything that had just ended with the current busyness of the library. You looked away from Steve and noticed a little girl struggling to grab a book that was high on a shelf.

“It’s really chaotic here right now, and I have to actually do work for the first time probably all summer, so yeah…” You forced a small smile and then walked away from him, ignoring the words he said to you that you barely heard and couldn’t make out.

Over the next two final hours of your shift, you’d silently accepted that that brief conversation would be the last time you talked to Steve Harrington. Although there were a thousand more things that probably could’ve been said, it was okay. That ending was okay. Or at least in the long run, it would be.

So it slightly startled you when you saw him in the parking lot, leaning against the side of his car. When he noticed you, he waved.

“Have you been here this whole time?” You asked, walking toward him, but leaving a wide space of distance between you two.

“Maybe, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know…”

For the first time probably ever, he confused you.

“I just— I wish things could be different,” He ultimately said, and hearing those words simultaneously made you feel happy while also making you feel so fucking upset.

“Things can be different,” You told him as you stepped toward him, the tiniest glimmer of hope inadvertently beginning to swirl in your stomach. “We could be together.”

Your hands found his, slowly intertwining them. His gaze met yours and you let the silent conversation play out. Your eyes pleading with him to not let go of what you two had, and him looking at you so softly while also battling whatever else was going on in his mind. After a few moments, he gave your hands a quick squeeze before he let go of them.

“I love Nancy.”

Not you. Those were the words he didn’t say, but you could read between those lines a little too easily.

“I love you” was the one thing you hadn’t said to one another, but you thought that you could feel how much he loved you through each soft touch, every longing look, every plea for you to stay in his bed for just a minute longer; one minute that always turned into at least five.

Apparently, you were wrong, though.

And now you knew for certain that you were wrong about every single thing that happened that summer.

Because you knew that you felt that way toward him. You loved him.

But he didn’t love you. He didn’t want to be with you.

He loved her.

His girlfriend— the only girl he was supposed to love.

You let the feeling of regret and guilt toward everything that happened this summer crash over you like a tsunami.

“I should’ve never done this,” You said, whispering that more to yourself, than to him.

“What?” He asked, unsure of what you’d just said.

“You love her.” You said as you moved away from him. “Go be with her.”

“I’m really sorry,” You heard him say as you walked toward your car.

You didn’t say anything in response to that. Mainly because there was nothing to say, but also because you refused to talk to him any longer. And quite frankly, you never wanted to talk to him again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“so much for summer love and saying ‘us.’ ‘cause you weren't mine to lose.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(read “betty” here!)

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things series #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic

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creedslove · 11 months

Text

HEARTLESS 💔

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: he was ready to give you the world, except one thing: be the father of your baby

Warnings: angst, hurt, angst, agent whiskey (because he is a trigger warning himself), asshole!agent whiskey, pregnancy, mom!reader

A/N: YAY, finally my first Agent Whiskey story!!! Came up with this idea last night and I was so excited about it. I love angst and he is such a handsome angsty asshole! I hope you guys like it ❤️

2.2k words

The moment Jack lay his eyes on you, he felt different.

He didn't understand it at first, it felt so odd, so foreign, so unexpected. Something he hadn't felt in years and years, not after his beautiful, little family was ripped away from him.

He tried fighting it off, it was his first instinct, he couldn't do that, not after all those years, not after having his heart broken the cruel way it was. But at the same time, everytime you smiled at him, asked him about his day, called his name, something as simple as that, it made him weak on his knees.

That cowboy had it bad. And he had it bad for you.

So he made his first move and invited you out. You accepted.

Three years later, Jack was the happiest man on earth. He had a woman he loved very much by his side, you were gorgeous, so perfect for him, you made him feel so good, so worthy of love, and he treated you like a goddamn princess.

You spent more time in his apartment than anywhere else, he wanted to ask you to move in with him, but it didn't feel quite right yet. One of the reasons was because he didn't actually like living in that apartment, he thought maybe taking you to his ranch would be a lot better. You wouldn't be so busy all the time, the daily routine stress wouldn't be as bad as New York, you would be all the time around nature and things would be fine between the two of you.

But you guys weren't married.

And Jack didn't know what to do with himself when that particular thought crossed his mind. He had never, even considered marrying someone new after he lost his sweetheart. He just couldn't, it would be impossible, he could never replace her.

But then again, whenever he saw you, his heart fluttered and he couldn't help daydream about watching you walking down the aisle with a pretty white dress all for him.

Whenever he was out, he would check jewelry store's windows and picture which ring you would like the best.

Until he finally got the balls and bought one for you. He hadn't proposed yet, he still didn't know how he could do it, but he had made up his mind. He was going to make you his, you would become his sweet, beautiful Mrs.Daniels, his world and nothing could ever come between the two of you.

The night Jack proposed to you, you were both lying on the grass, spending a summer weekend at the ranch, where you two stargazed and made love for what it seemed like hours, and when you felt him move, you turned around just to see him on his knee, a ring box in hands and his pleading eyes, asking you to become his.

And you said yes. You were Jack's and he was yours.

And you would continue to do so, until you began feeling sick. You were sure it wasn't nothing more than just a stomach bug, maybe you were coming down with the flu or something like that as you also felt light headed. You insisted Jack didn't have to take you to the doctor, but he was overly protective and quite stubborn too, so it was better just to let him, instead of trying to talk him out of it.

He held your hand the entire time, as you two waited at the reception and the only reason why he didn't go inside with you was because the doctor insisted you had your appointment on your own.

A few questions asked and a blood exam later, the doctor called you and Jack into the office.

They had the results that neither of you expected: you were pregnant.

Jack's world crashed and collided at that very moment. He felt the ground disappearing from under his feet and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. He couldn't do it again, he wasn't ready to lose everything that mattered to him.

He couldn't believe you, out of all the people in the world, you couldn't do that to him.

He had lost a wife and a baby before, and he wasn't going to go through that again. He had said many times he didn't want to be a father, he didn't want to have a baby and he thought he found someone he could rely on, he could trust.

But he hadn't.

No matter how many times you had tried to explain to him you were on birth control and that they could all fail, Jack wouldn't listen to you.

You argued, yelled at each other, he told you so many horrible things to which you replied even more horrible ones.

But the end of the line was when he suggested you get rid of the baby.

You couldn't and you wouldn't.

You had never thought of yourself as a mom, you didn't even think you had the maternity bug in you, but the moment you learned the news you were carrying a little someone inside, someone who would grow to become a baby, and then a beautiful child, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Jack even offered you money, so you would interrupt it. But you didn't even bother answering him. You took off the ring he had given you, placed it back in the box and left it on his pillow and you walked out of the ranch you had called a house once and never returned.

You hadn't seen Jack anymore. But you still felt him around sometimes, you just couldn't tell if it was real or just a product of your imagination. You would catch whiffs of his cologne, or you would glance at a man that looked like him and would simply disappear in the blink of an eye. As your bump grew, the loneliness and the heartbreak were visible. You would smile, but the smile wouldn't meet the eyes.

Still, a small part of you thought and maybe hoped he cared for you, but he never came after you, he had nine months to do so and you had no news.

When you learned you were having a baby boy, you felt a pang in your chest and for a moment you actually worried about what he and other people would think. You didn't want to compete with her, you weren't a replacement of his family, you knew he had lost a wife and a baby boy, and life had given him a bride and a baby boy and he chose to walk away from that. You realize then, you weren't competing with anyone, you were living your life and it was not your fault if someone else lost theirs in such a tragic way. Then, after that realization, your heart filled with nothing but love and pride of you beautiful baby boy. If his dad chose not to be around, he was still a tiny piece of Jack you would keep, to remind you of all the good times you had spent together and the moments you were happy.

When you gave birth to your beautiful baby Wyatt, you thought you had seen Jack. You were almost sure you woke up in the middle of the night and found him in the room. He was dressed exactly the way you saw him for the last time, dark clothes and cowboy hat, and he eyed you and the baby.

You didn't have the strength to say anything to him and you just closed your eyes when you saw him picking up Wyatt so carefully into his arms.

In the morning, the doctors said you had experienced a fever peak through the night, so if it was actually Jack or just a cruel feverish dream, you couldn't tell. You even asked around, but no nurse had seen a cowboy over the nightshift.

Time flew, you never actually believed in that whenever you heard people saying, until you realized the tiny newborn became a bigger baby and that baby turned into a toddler in the blink of an eye.

Life was hard without Jack's financial support, you had to admit that, but you lived a happy life with your son, who painfully reminded you of his daddy. The sweet warm pool of brown chocolate eyes, to the cute curls that grew wide if you didn't give him a haircut every two months, to the smartness in him and his fascination with farm animals.

It was actually kind of funny, Wyatt had never met his daddy, he had barely acknowledged the fact other kids had a father and he didn't have one, and yet, he was just the spitting image of his. Sometimes you wonder what Jack would think of him, if he would be proud, happy or pleased to see his boy and himself were so alike. You still had that feeling Jack was around at times, when you took your son to play dates at the park, when you were out shopping and he waved at someone behind you you couldn't never actually see.

And also the times a mysterious amount of money came in handy whenever you found yourself struggling with some bill.

A tip or a bonus in cash your boss didn't actually know how to explain where that came from or when some of your debts simply had disappeared, but you couldn't track the source of the money. However, you only knew one person who had enough money to actually be able to do such things.

You just didn't understand why Jack did all that, if he was so clear about not wanting you nor your baby you didn't get why he still took some of his time to go after the two of you and not only that, he was also putting money into you. Not every month, like child support but enough so you could be comfortable.

On the weekend, you decided to take Wyatt upstate. He was so excited to go to the small farm, a nice ranch where families could spend the day and see all kinds of animals. Your heart ached as you thought about the time you lived with Jack, if you hadn't gone separate ways, Wyatt would love to live there, play with the animals all day and interact with them. It could have been a different story, for the two of you and also Jack, but it was his choice after all.

The little toddler was so excited as you walked around the entire place with him, you were so patient with your son, holding his little hand and showing him all the animals he wanted to see.

He liked the chickens, the horses, the baby pigs and was so excited, but his little heart raced when he saw a man standing a few feet away.

"Mommy, wook! A cowboy!!!" He squealed excitedly as he still struggled in pronouncing the Rs and let go of your hand, running freely towards the man.

You called his name, but knew it was no use at all, so you forced yourself to run after him. You fastened your pace, worried about losing your little boy in the crowd and froze as you saw your son standing next to a man you could recognize miles away. He was in his typical cowboy clothes and he had one arm wrapped around Wyatt's small body.

He smiled at the little boy, nodding gently at whatever he was saying to him. You looked at them in horror, shaking your head and not understanding why that could be possibly happening.

You took some steps closer and whispered your son's name. Jack immediately looked up at you and smiled softly

"Here's your mama, little one" he said in his thick accent "looking pretty as ever" Jack added and got up, lifting his son up and felt his heart clenched at how tiny arms wrapped around his neck. He trusted him so easily, as he was so sweet and affectionate, without even knowing him, without having a clue he was his dad. Of course that sweetness was all you.

You teared up and swallowed hard, extending your arm to Wyatt who was still mesmerized at the big boy.

"Hat, mama!!" He pointed excitedly at Jack's head and made the older man chuckle.

"I see you are a little cowboy yourself, aren't ya?" He asked and took his hat off, handing it to the little boy and placing it on his head.

He kicked his little legs in excitement and finally agreed to go with you, holding your hand and twirling around in pure happiness.

You didn't have any words to say, you wanted to stay away from Jack, and keep him away from your son, he had rejected you, and now he had no right to claim either of you.

You immediately took Wyatt's hat off and shoved it back to Jack. He only stood there, disappointment in his eyes but he understood it.

"It was nice seeing you, sugar. You're looking gorgeous as ever" he said but you only gave him your back and walked away from him.

Jack had lost his first family and out of fear, he lost his second one too, because he was a coward, he was a bad man and he would have to live with that guilt for the rest of his life.

_____

A/N: of course my first Agent Whiskey piece had to be an angst one. I hope it was alright ❤️

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atruththatyoudeny · 7 days

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Happy 28th! Here are all the lovely fics I read this month:

where we landed | blueskiesrry | [70k] The leaves were green the last time Harry stepped foot in Holmes Chapel, a stark contrast to the candy apple, butterscotch painting them now, years later. Harry first notices them on the train, gazing out the window with a downturned mouth. A warm something floods his stomach–memories, Harry imagines, of him as a boy, longing for the days when he’d live elsewhere and have to take this very train home for the holidays. He wonders how it’s possible to have once felt eager and euphoric at the sight of changing leaves yet now to feel nothing but tired. He sighs softly, turning away from the trees to look at his daughter, half-curled in his lap, asleep. or: harry returns to his hometown with his sick daughter and more reminders than he bargained for of the boy he once loved when he left a handful of years ago

MARRIED FOR A WEEK?! | gravitycentered | [20k] Hi guys :) You might recognize Harry from one or two of my old videos .. I was tagged in the Married for a week challenge so I asked him to be my husband ! We had to live together for a week and take each other out on a couple romantic dates and that, check out the video to see how it went :) Give it a like if you enjoyed and maybe subscribe if you haven't already. Love you all - Louis x

It's everything else that matters | words_of_my_own | [83k] At forty, Harry has settled down in London, as a single dad and successful businessman. Along comes Louis, his son’s new friend, who turns out to be more than he appears at first sight. Their paths are slowly intertwined as life stories are unfolded and feelings arise. *** "They may only be joking around here… …or the atmosphere has just turned slightly flirtatious. Louis' raised eyebrow and quirky smile adding on to it. It’s fun and exciting, and Harry doesn’t think twice before he throws another glance over his shoulder, just to find Louis steady eyes on him, his teeth digging into his lower lip. Christ, the bloke really is handsome. Sexy, even. And this is definitely not how Harry normally reacts to people of the same sex, but…apparently, he is now."

He Was a Different League (When I Was Nothing Much) | AFangirlFantasy | [21k] Sick of being alone, Marcel is forced (by Niall) to join an online dating app. The idea is well and all, except for the inconvenient fact that he hasn’t moved on from his childhood sweetheart - Louis. If only Marcel could learn to let go, he might actually be able to love again. Or, an AU where finding that 'someone new' actually leads to finding that 'someone old,' and Marcel is painfully oblivious.

I want to wake up where your love is | marcythesassykitten | [166k] “Kinda feels like it is, though. And it’s okay to be pissed at me because of that,” Louis' voice was still the normal feathery sweetness Harry was used to, but it had a harshness to it that he couldn’t place until he looked up and met Louis’ eyes. There was so much pain exposed for Harry to see, for him to be able to pick at, taunt or ignore. Louis was sitting right there, allowing Harry to see all the broken pieces, the sharp edges that had never been mended back together with the love and kindness they needed. In that moment, Harry saw his own pain reflected back at him in Louis’ eyes. He could feel bits of his own heart calling out for him to reach out and allow the two battered hearts to heal together as one. “It’s not. I’m not… I’m really not,” or, a chicago-inspired story about lost dreams, unjust fates, undying love and lots of pizza, repressed feelings, cute kids and, of course, cats

Welcome Home | Jelon | [49k] Louis Tomlinson had to put a stop to his football career for a couple of months and he decided to go back home to rest his mind for a little bit only to find out a really weird coffee shop owner started to visit his mother on a regular basis with just as peculiar but lovely kid named Maxine.

Half a World Away | SilverStuff50 | [10k] Bothy: A bothy is a basic shelter, usually left unlocked and available for anyone to use free of charge. It was also a term for basic accommodation, usually for gardeners or other workers on an estate. Bothies are found in remote mountainous areas of Scotland, Northern England, Ulster and Wales. They are particularly common in the Scottish Highlands, but related buildings can be found around the world (for example, in the Nordic countries, there are wilderness huts).

#28th appreciation #fic rec #monthly reads #my reads #monthly fic rec #larry fics

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tojisbbg · 1 year

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❈ 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 ❈

❝one day i will stop falling in love with you, some day, someone will like me like i like you.❞

♡ manjiro sano ♡

a/n: current mood - wanting to breaking people’s hearts 😈 (sorry mikey stans)

content: mikey x reader (y/n), very heavy angst, right person wrong time, you’re mikey’s childhood friend, he’s getting married (lolz), not grammatically checked/edited

...

you finished adding the final touches to your makeup, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you checked in the mirror if your concealer hid your puffy eyes well. some would say that whatever you were going through was tragic, a scenario that you would read about in romance novels where the main character is destined to a miserable fate.

and perhaps that was right.

you’ve been feeling miserable, sad and pathetic for the last month and a half since you’ve received the invitation. a piece of paper that felt like a sharp knife slicing your heart in half.

what was worse was that you couldn’t even find it in your heart to throw away the card. it was beautifully decorated with happy pastel colors and confetti, printed on expensive card stock, pop-up designs and a photo of him with the girl that was supposed to be you.

it was your childhood friend’s wedding, except for the catch that you’ve been holding in a burdening crush on him for the last twenty years. he was your person and you were his, being there for each other through thick and thin.

you both created a world where it was just the two of you while everyone else became a blur, a bunch of white noise. he was the invincible mikey and you were his key.

you couldn’t help but wonder, when did things change so fast? how did the perfect world you both created become nothing but dust?

---

(17 years ago)

“how is she, doc?” the young boy with a dragon tatted on his skull asked curiously as he stared at his friend, well practically family, in concern.

“it was just an upset stomach, little man. we gave your sister some antibiotics to fight off those nasty little germs that’s been bothering her. she’ll be good in a few days. you sure you don’t have a parent or older family member we can contact?” the doctor asked, cocking an eyebrow as he held the pen in his hand eagerly, hoping the blonde boy would say something to him.

“we’re orphans and she’s not my real sister. we have someone that’s been taking care of us for all these years and he’ll come by shortly.” he murmured, shame painting his face as his gaze went down to the floor.

the doctor looked at him with sorrow, patting his head.

“hang tight, buddy. keep her company, but don’t make her laugh too much or else it might make her cry.” he tried to create humor and it successfully made the frowning by crack a crooked smile.

“yes, sir!” the little boy playfully saluted as he watched the man in the white coat walk away with a chuckle.

“ken?” his ears rang up when hearing your faint call of his name, a small whimper following after.

“y/n! are you hurting anywhere? should i call the doctor back? uncle’s gonna be here soon with remi. i told them to bring your favorite chocolate pudding.” draken gave you a cheeky grin, his hand now holding yours tightly.

“you know me so well, sometimes i forget that i’m an orphan.” you laughed quietly, trying to not put strain on your stomach.

“you’re not an orphan, y/n. you got me, uncle, remi and the other girls too. we’re one big happy family.” he persisted, eyebrows furrowing as he tried his best to convince you to believe his point.

“you told the doctor that i’m not your sister, ken.” you whispered, your throat becoming dry as the words left your mouth. draken fell silent for a few seconds before sighing, laying his head besides your hand.

“i told him that you’re not my real sister, y/n. there’s a difference. i don’t care what the law says because my heart says otherwise. you’ll always be the sister that i’ve always dreamed of having.” his eyes twinkled, a hand coming up to ruffle your hair.

“so i heard one of my little girls was sick? maybe some chocolate pudding will make those little bad guys in your stomach go away.” your uncle’s voice boomed in your ward, a small smile plastered on his face as he shook the white plastic bag.

your eyes glimmered in content before you were pulled into a bear hug by remi. the girl sobbed on your shoulder, wetting it with tears and snot as she roared by your ears.

“y/nnnn!!!! i thought you were gonna die when kenny told uncle! i love you, y/n, don’t leave ever me. ever.” she hiccuped between every word as your uncle and draken tried to console her and calm her down.

“it was a stomach bug, remi. i’ll be better in a few days.” you tried to cheer her up. she raised her head, looking at you in doubt.

“promise?” remi sniffled.

“promise, you know i’d never lie to you.” you wiped away her tears before hugging her once more.

your uncle handed the three of you the small containers of chocolate pudding.

“why don’t you three take a walk outside, i’ll have this really nice nurse walk you guys. it’s good to get some fresh air.” the doctor said, patting your back and you all agreed, soon leaving the room.

you happily skipped through the hallway, one pudding container in your pocket, while the other one was tightly secured in your hand as you ate it.

“let’s play hide and seek, you’re the seeker ken!” you quickly blurted out, not giving either of them a choice before running off to the other direction. you faintly heard draken groan in annoyance, being tired of always being the seeker but he’d always do it for you.

you saw a pretty quiet hallway and decided to turn to that corner, only to find a small quiet room. you figured that it wouldn’t be too much of a trouble to hide in here for a few minutes

you opened the door, nearly having a heart attack from the sudden appearance of another person. it was a boy with short blonde hair, he was huddled up into a ball, quietly whimpering and crying.

“hey, kid.” you called out to him, only to not receive a response. a heavy sigh left your lips as you walked over to him, sitting on the floor besides him. the boy looked up at you, eyes all puffy and his nose red.

he’s pretty cute.

“look, i’m really bad at comforting people. but, when i’m super sad, i eat chocolate pudding to make me happy again.” you said with a grin, digging in your pocket to get your other container out.

you grabbed his hand and opened his palm before placing the treat in it. he stared at it in momentary silence.

“who are you?” he finally spoke, looking at you with slight confusion.

“just a stranger who’s hiding from her siblings in an intense game of hide and seek. what about you?” you chuckled, scooping another bite into your mouth.

“i’m.. i don’t know.” he said with a shaky breath, shaking his head.

“that’s fine, we don’t always know the answer to everything. ken is really mean sometimes, he’s a year older than me and asked me what 345 times 82 is. i could bet you my whole stash of chocolate pudding that he doesn’t know himself. tch, smart my ass.” you scoffed, earning a small giggle from your side. you side eyed him, seeing him detach the small spoon from the plastic lid before opening it.

“what’s your name?” he asked you, eyes anticipating for an answer.

“y/n. you?” you continued to inhale your treat as you waited for him to respond.

“mikey.” the blonde boy scooped in a hefty amount into his mouth as he consumed the sweet dessert.

“why were you crying, mikey?” you asked, not realizing how insensitive you were being.

“it’s personal.” mikey shortly dismissed, but you were a little slow to understand and continued to persist until he caved in.

“it’s just me and you in here. think of it as a bubble with just us, nothing comes in or goes out of this bubble.” you assured him, patting his back.

for some strange reason, mikey felt like he could tell you anything from how comfortable you made him feel. considering the fact that he didn’t want to show any kind of reaction or emotion towards his family, he decided to seek that comfort and release in you.

“my mother just died, about an hour ago.” he bluntly dropped the bomb, placing a very awkward and tense atmosphere between you both.

“you’ll get over it, mikey.” you calmly answered, making his brows furrow with annoyance and slight anger.

“how could you say that to me? my mother just died.” mikey said in disbelief, his tone heightening a little.

“i’m telling you the truth. i’m sorry that this happened to you, especially at such a young age, but it’ll all pass and soon, today will just be one of your many bad memories. you’ll find peace and love one day and heal, mikey. that’s life.” you defended your previous statement, looking into his eyes with a gentle look.

“and how do you know that? you’re just some ten-year-old weirdo that walked in on me.” he mumbled under his breath, making you giggle.

“i’m an orphan, mikey. i don’t even know what my parents look like or if i even have any to begin with. not even any knowledge on if i have sibling or not. ken and remi aren’t my real siblings, just people i grew up with.” you shrugged, making the blonde boy thin his lips.

“i’m sorry.” he apologized, his gaze lowering to meet his shoes.

“it’s not your fault. there’s too much love in this world to be consumed by regret or grief. i’m not saying that you shouldn’t grieve, but you have to pick yourself up and continue with the rest of your life eventually. it’s what your mom would’ve wanted, mikey.” you ruffled his hair as his eyes shimmered with hope.

“thanks, i’ll try. also, promise me that you won’t tell anyone about me crying.” mikey gave you a embarrassed look, holding up his pinky.

“i promise.” you intertwined yours with his.

suddenly, the door flew open, which startled the both of you.

“found you!”

---

“i’m really sorry, sir.” the doctor heavily sighed, trying to pat your uncle’s back as the man sobbed in his palms.

“how bad is it? please, tell me she has time! she’s only ten, i want to be able to walk her down the aisle one day.” your uncle begged, choking between every word and cry.

“the tumor in right in the middle of her brain, wrapping around each and every blood vessel. it’s to aggressive for us to remove it, i’m sorry once again, but it’s inoperable. she’ll bleed out before we can even remove a centimeter of it. with proper treatment and medications, we’re looking at maybe ten more years.” the doctor replied, making your uncle rub his temples in worry.

“uncle!! meet my new friend, mikey! they live on the next block from our house.” you vibrant voice broke the depressing atmosphere. your uncle quickly wiped away his tears, giving you all a smile.

“hey, i remember you! you were in s.s motors with shinichiro.” your uncle patted mikey’s head.

“he’s my big brother.” mikey answered.

“i see, why don’t you come and have lunch with us. we’re going out for burgers, i’ll text your brother that you’re with us.” your uncle suggested, making the small blonde boy nod his head.

and just like that, the both of you became inseparable.

---

high school came around and you were the only thing that was piecing manjiro sano, or rather the invincible mikey, together. he formed a gang and that included your brother in it as well. you all were a pretty tight group to say the least, yet no one could truly understand him better than you could.

not even his right-hand men such as draken or sanzu.

“i think i’m gonna disband toman and move away for some time, you now escape life for a little.” he sighed, opening the lid of the chocolate pudding before handing it to you.

“where’s yours?” you asked, confused as to why he only got one.

“didn’t want one.” he shrugged, digging in his pocket before pulling out a box of cigarettes. he plucked one of the cancer sticks out, planting it in between his lips before lighting it.

you watched him in disappointment, as he inhaled the smoke before coughing it out, eyes becoming watery as you scoffed.

“dumbass, give me that.” you grabbed the stick before throwing it on the ground, stepping on it.

“and that.” you grabbed the pack out of his hands before tossing it into the trash.

“y/n.” mikey called out.

“no, i’m really mad at you. i can’t believe you, mikey. pull that type of shit again and i’ll bury you, i swear. no girl would ever want to kiss you with a mouth like that.” you scoffed, flicking his forehead as he winced in pain.

“not even you?” he teased.

“i’d rather kiss a roach.” you playfully punched his bicep, earning a small laugh from him.

“they only had one pudding left, so i didn’t get one for myself.” he explained himself.

“we could always share, idiot. say ah.” you ordered, scooping a hefty amount of pudding before placing the spoon near his lips. he opened his mouth, eating it with content.

“see, much better than cigarettes. but i was being serious, mikey, i don’t wanna see those near your lips or reach ever again. swear on my life?” you glared at him, making him choke.

“hey! why are you giving me such a harsh swear??” he cleared his throat.

“so you’re saying you’ll lie and do it behind my back?!” you yelled, making him quickly shake his head.

“no, no, no! that’s not what i meant. i’m just saying that isn’t it such a big swear for something so stupid?” mikey tried to reason.

“your health is not stupid, mikey. don’t push my buttons and swear already.” you rolled your eyes, making him sigh.

“fine, i swear.” he said in defeat, stealing the reamining of your pudding to eat.

“hm, good. oh, going back to what you were saying earlier, why so suddenly?” you questioned, backtracking to the previous conversation before you both got out of topic.

“i don’t know, i feel like i’m bringing in my toxic energy in and engulfing everyone. maybe i should just let it all go and step back, you know? even you need a break from me to be honest.” he bitterly laughed. you kissed your teeth before grabbing a hold of his face, turning it to face you as you stared sternly at him.

“mikey, i’m not going anywhere. what i promised you seven years will never break, even after we die. our souls are one, and i can’t leave my other half. so, let me run away with you. wherever you want, i’ll follow right behind you.” you gave him a soft smile, caressing his cheeks lovingly. his expression grew softer, tears welling in his eyes as he buried his face in your chest. you wrapped your arms around him, kissing the top of his head.

it’s been rough on him, especially after losing shinichiro too in an accident. mikey’s been in a really dark place for a few months, shit, even scary if you were honest. he was snappy, rude, all dark and twisty. yet, you never gave up on him.

because you knew that at the end of the day, he was still the same small boy you found in that closet crying to himself.

“y/n, promise me something.” mikey sniffled, pulling away as he looked up at you, eyes holding so much vulnerability.

“i promised my entire life to you, what more should i promise?”you joked, wiping away his tears with the pads of your thumb.

“if we don’t find someone by the age of thirty, let’s get married. i’d rather spend the rest of my life with you than all alone.” he offered, a boyish smile dancing on his lips as your heart fluttered.

you could’ve sworn that it skipped a few beats, making it suddenly harder to breathe as your cheeks grew warm.

“stop fucking around with me, sano. it’s not funny.” you warned him, but his expression remained the same.

“you’re being deadass?” your eyes grew wide and he hummed in response.

“so, are you in or not?” the blonde boy cocked an eyebrow as he held out his pinkie, making you chuckle.

“jeez, it seems like you’re making a life or death contract with me. yes, i’m in.” you answered, intertwining your pinkie with his.

and to think that what you’ve been dreaming of for years were to come true would become only a nightmare.

it’s not until emma’s death where mikey completely disappeared, not answering anyones calls or even yours. you spent days trying to look for him all over the city and even begging koko to somehow track his number or something.

but every effort went in vain.

you cried for months, refusing to eat and giving up on the sweet treat that only reminded you of him. you had nightmares every night, and the only thought that circled your mind was that he was dead.

he was really gone.

until after nearly nine years, he came back. not alone, but accompanied with another person.

a girl, his girl, to be precise.

mikey went to the philippines for those years, returning with a completely new get up that would make it hard for anyone to guess that it was him. his beautiful blonde locks were now cut short with an undercut, dyed black.

you remembered the first day where he showed up at your doorsteps, your knees turned into jelly as you almost collapsed to the group if he didn’t catch you in time. you cried in his arms for so long, cursing and punching him from pain and anger as he whispered thousands of apologies to you.

you were happy, so fucking happy to see that he was alive. it put your mind and heart to peace, until you saw her walk out of the car.

“this is my girlfriend, y/n. we met a few years back and she’s just amazing, you know. i wanted you to meet the most important person of my life first since you’re my best friend.” he mischievously giggled, snaking an arm around her waist.

your throat became dry, heart shattering into a billion pieces as each word leaving his lips was like knives jabbing at your heart. it bled, threatening to leak out of your eyes. yet, you held back, trying your hardest to fake a realistic smile to keep your cool.

“nice to meet you.” you shook her hand.

“the pleasure’s all mine, mikey’s told me a lot about you.” she said, making you awkwardly laugh.

“oh, i see.” you dryly replied, clearing your throat.

“these are for you by the way, it’s a recipe that’s really sacred to my family. i hope you enjoy.” she smiled, handing you a box of what seemed like cookies.

fuck, i can’t even bring myself to hate her.

“thank you, that’s really sweet of you. uh, you both should stay over for lunch.” you offered, secretly praying that they refuse.

“sorry, y/n, i gotta get my bike inspected by ken-chin. next time, yeah?” he ruffled your hair, as you managed to let out a small hum. you waved them goodbye before entering your house, locking the door behind you.

you fell on your knees, letting out all the tears that you’ve been holding in. your cry was ugly, gut-wrenching and painful as it stole all the oxygen from your lungs and made you gag and choke.

it felt like someone died, well, it was sort of like that.

mikey was no longer yours, he was somebody’s else’s. you were all alone now.

you’re the other woman.

you probably shed a gallon of tears by now, trying your best to turn off the water tap glued on your eyes. but, the image of him snaking his arm around her waist never left your mind.

you glanced at the box of cookies on the floor, opening the lid to grab one and take a bite.

“fuck, they taste delicious too.” you cried, throwing it back in the box as you decided that it’ll be best to call out of work sick for tomorrow.

---

the day has finally come, where you have to let him go. he was no longer yours, those days will never come back, now only a happy memory that you can confide to for comfort.

“y/n, you don’t have to do this.” draken sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder but you shook your head, determined to attend that damn wedding.

“i have to, ken. he’s my best friend, i can do at least this much for him.” you answered, fixing up the green dress that you wore before putting on your earrings.

“be selfish for once, y/n! i know that you love him, alright? i’ve been living with you since diapers, i know you like the back of my hand. you can lie to anyone but me, i know that you’re not okay. which is why i’m telling you that you don’t have to do this. i’ll tell him that you’re sick or something.” draken’s eyes softened, his expresison growing sad as he looked at your pained expression. you were smiling at him, yet he knew the thousands of thoughts and words that littered your mind.

“ken, i know. the only way i could give myself closure is by seeing it happen, in front of my eyes. i want my last memory of him to be happy and clear, so that when i think of him, i don’t feel pain or misery. if he’s happy then i’m happy because we are each others halves and no one can take that spot. besides, his fiance is so nice, i can’t even bring myself to hate her. he’ll be fine, i know he will.” you explained, grabbing drakens hands as you gave it a tight squeeze, looking up at the tall man that stood before you.

he bit his lips to contain himself from arguing back, caressing your cheeks before letting out a sigh. he nodded his head, deciding to butt-out of your business.

“okay, whatever makes you happy.” he said and you hummed in response before getting up to slip on your heels.

“let’s go, we have a wedding to go to.” you smiled at him, slipped your arm in his as you guys walked out of your house.

the drive to the church was short as it was the same one where hina and takemichi got married. you entered the ladies room where all the bridesmaids were getting dressed up as they all waited for you since you were the maid of honor.

“y/n, you’re here! god, you look gorgeous, maybe i should ditch mikey and marry you instead.” she joked, pulling you into a hug as you chuckled, patting her back.

“you look even prettier. damn, mikey caught a good one i gotta say.” you answered looking at her with eyes full of nothing but adoration.

she was sweet and understanding, a perfect wife for mikey. he deserved this, after being through hell and back, he deserved happiness and peace.

and you were willing to do anything to give him that, even if it meant to go to the ends of the earth and come back.

“it’s almost time! come on ladies, get in position.” one of the bridesmaids announced.

“i’ll see you at the aisle.” you rubbed her shoulder as she hummed, then taking your leave as you entered the wedding hall. you walked up where the priest stood, mikey standing right across you.

his eyes widened when he saw you, walking up to you without hesitation. he pulled you into a tight hug before pulling away with a smile.

“you look absolutely beautiful, y/n, as always. i’m so happy that you’re here, i was honestly so nervous, but after seeing you, i got my courage back.” he honestly said, making it hard for you to form words to respond to him.

“better not chicken out sano, i raised you better than that.” you playfully scolded him.

“yes ma’am!” he jokingly saluted, making you both laugh.

“mr. sano, please stand in position, the bride will enter in a few minutes.” the priest interrupted.

“sorry. i’ll talk to you after the ceremony, okay?” he held your hands, giving it a tight squeeze and you swore that if he was just a hair more closer, you would’ve broken down into tears.

“yeah, yeah, of course. go get married, sano.” you teased, making him blush as he walked back to his original position. you stood with one ring while draken stood with the other, the taller glancing at you frequently to check if you’re okay and you’d discreetly try to nod and give him the signal that you’re fine.

the music began to play and the doors opened, revealing mikey’s soon to be wife, now walking in with her father. a huge smile or her face as you looked over at mikey, only to catch him staring at you before averting his gaze to his wife.

she walked up the steps, now standing besides you as she turned to look at her soon to be husband. the priest began to read the wedding vows and it was soon time to exchange rings. the beautiful diamond ring glimmered under your eyes and you couldn’t help but wished it was for you.

it fit perfectly, like it was made for you and you knew that because you accompanied mikey when he went ring shopping. it was unfortunate to know that his fiance’s ring size was the same as you, so you helped him pick and size it. you remember not being able to take your eyes off of it as soon as he slipped it onto your finger. you felt chills as his skin touched yours, but now, it was reality; only not yours but hers.

“do you, _____, take manjiro sano as your wedded husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in sickness and in health, in success and in disappointment, to love him faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?” the priest asked, and without hesitation⸻

“i do.” she said with the brightest smile, giving him the most lovesick eyes known to mankind.

“do you, manjiro sano, take _____ as your wedded wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in sickness and in health, in success and in disappointment, to love him faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?” he now asked the groom, and to your surpise, mikey’s eyes were only focused on you.

please, say no, mikey. say no! you’re mine and i’m yours, it always been like that. please, say no.

your mind screamed and your heart bled, hoping for some miracle to change the events to bring it in your favors. but to your disappointment, none of that happened. he gave you a small smile before glancing at his bride.

“i do.” mikey said and the priest suddenly glanced at everyone in the room.

“any objections?” he loudly asked, as a moment of silence fell in the whole room.

me! i object. this wedding shouldn’t be happening, not even in a million years. that should be me in that dress and ring, not her. i don’t want to be the other woman.

“that’s a no then. i now pronounce you husband and wife. you may kiss the bride.” and with that being said, you averted your gaze to the bouquet of flowers as the crowd roared with cheers while they both kissed.

a few tears slipped from your eyes but you managed to quickly wipe them away, praying that nobody saw them. to which nobody did, except for draken as the man look at you with nothing but an aching heart to see you this heartbroken.

the after party was great, from the table of stories and lunch too. the cake was amazing as well, coming from the bakery that you and mikey often went to for study dates during your teen years.

“y/n! there you are, i’ve been looking for you everywhere. i just wanted to come here and thank you again for helping out with everything. you’re amazing and i’m so happy to know someone like you.” mikey’s wife came to you and pulled you into a hug, as you pat her back.

“of course, i wish you both the best of luck and a lot of happiness. treat him good, okay? he’s been through so much and he really deserves this. he’s a little childish and stubborn at times but he’s so sweet. he’s great and it breaks my heart to give him away but he’ll be okay. i know he will, he’s mikey after all.” you laughed, making her break into one as well.

“mhm, you got it!” she smiled at you once more before being whisked away by another relative for pictures.

“looks like you’re busy.” you heard a familiar voice behind you, turning around to see mikey grinning at you.

“yup, busy practicing how to spend the rest of my life alone without my other half.” you teased, making him chuckle.

“i suppose if you’re not too busy then you can spare some time to have a dance with me?” mikey wiggled his eyebrows, making your lips curl as you took his hand, being pulled away to the dance floor.

you wrap your arms around his neck as his arms snake around your waist. you both sway to the song and it felt like once again everyone else was just a blur and you both were now back in your own world, just the two of you.

“thank you, y/n. for everything, from beginning to end. i’ll never be able to repay you for everything that you’ve done for me. without you, i don’t think i’d even be standing here. you’re my one and only, forever and always; my other half.” he genuinely spoke, eyes glimmering with love and adoration, turning your brain into a bunch of mush and heart becoming all fuzzy.

“you just got married, mikey, don’t make your wife turn against me by saying those kind of things.” you chuckled, making him crack a smile.

“i mean it, you’re very special to me, y/n.” mikey said, tucking in a piece of hair behind your ear. you felt suffocated, feeling your airways and chest tightening. you couldn’t tell if it was from all that food you stress-ate or the feelings that threatened to pour out right this moment.

“can we go somewhere private, i gotta tell you something.” you urgently ushered him, as he quickly nodded his head before being dragged away to the groom’s room.

you quickly closed the door behind you, locking it before turning to face him. mikey grew concerned at your behavior and silence as he constantly asked if you were okay.

“if someone were to ask me what would be the best and worst day of my life, i would tell them that it was the day that i met you.” you breathed out, making mikey tilt his head to the side in confusion.

“huh?” he managed to say.

“it was the day where i found someone that understood me as a person deep from within, knew my every thought and feeling before i even had to say it or act on it. i found my other half, the person that made me, well, me. the person whom i’ve grown to not be able to live without as well. which also brings it to why it’s my worst day as well.” you grew silent, words feeling too heavy to spew out as tears gathered in your eyes.

“the person that i can’t live without, mikey.” you choked out, tears now streaming down your face as mikey’s eyes widened.

“y/n, i don’t under-”

“i love you, okay! not as a friend, but as someone more. i wanted to be the person that you spend the rest of your life with.” you cried, making him gulp harshly.

“i wanted to be your bride.” you sadly laughed, looking up at him with a tear-stained face as your mascara and eyeliner was now smudged.

“oh my god, y/n.” he whispered, trying to pull you into a hug but you quickly stopped him.

“don’t! if you hug me right now, i’ll break and won’t be able to stop myself. please, just hear me out. when we went ring shopping, i never wanted to take it off of my finger and it felt so nice when you put it on me. that night, i went home and couldn’t stop envisioning a future where it was us instead. i’ve loved you ever since we were kids, mikey.” you confessed, making him break into tears as he pulled you into a hug, unable to contain himself.

“then why the hell didn’t you say anything before? you even had the chance to object when the priest said the vows. why didn’t you say anything!” he sobbed, his embrace tightening as if he never wanted to let you go.

“because she’s good, mikey. you need a wife who’s sweet, tender, gentle and understanding. she’s perfect for you, mikey. you’ll be okay, i know you will.” you gave him a sad smile, holding his face as you looked deep into his eyes.

“but you’re also-”

“no, mikey. you need someone who can cherish you and spend many more happy years to come. i can’t give you that.” you sniffled, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“i don’t understand, what’s going on?” mikey panicked.

“i’m dying, mikey. that day that i met you, i was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor and it seems that i barely have a full month left to live. i was supposed to be long gone by last month but i guess i was lucky enough to see you get married.” you cried with a smile.

“no, no, you’re lying to me. this can’t be! y/n, this isn’t time for jokes, please, i can’t lose you too. i’ll marry you, i’ll manage something, i promise. please, just don’t leave me.” he begged, holding onto you like you would disappear from his reach if he were to let go.

“mikey, don’t make all of this go into vain. i worked so hard to come to terms with my feelings and get closure. which is why i waited until after the wedding to tell you because even if i do leave you, you’ll have her to be there with you. you need to live for me, and enjoy your life in happiness. okay?” you sobbed, trying to convince him but he kept shaking his head in denial.

“no! please, y/n! i-i-”

“here, make sure to share with her, alright? don’t get too greedy.” you tried to joke to lighten the mood, as you opened his palm to give him the container of chocolate pudding.

“y/n, please.” he cried, but you were stern with your decision. you felt yourself becoming light-headed and the familiar feeling of nausea. it almost felt like you were dying, ironically.

“bye, mikey.” you gave him a soft kiss on his cheek before running out of the room. mikey yelled your name behind like a madman as he ran after you, but you were too ahead. the fresh air hit your skin, sending goosebumps everywhere and it felt like you could breathe again.

you walked over to draken’s car and opened the door, sitting down as you were about to close the door.

“i love you too, y/n! i always have and always will.” was the last thing you heard before slamming the door shut, breaking into tears.

“start the car, ken.” you said in between your sobs, driving away from the church.

“so, you gonna hide from him forever or what? you know, y/n, i never told you how much i love you. well, not like that. but, i’m grateful for having someone like you in my life. i’d do anything to make you smile, you’re the most selfless and kind person i’ve ever met. an angel is what you are.” draken rambled, making you softly chuckle.

“thanks ken, i love you too.” you tiredly slurred your words, draken glancing at you as he stopped at a light, a smile etching on his face.

“seems like you’re tired, let’s get takeout tonight and go to the movies with remi. you know, just like the old days. what do you say?” draken asked, only to be met with silence. he chuckled to himself as he decided to not bother you and let you sleep till you both got home.

draken finished parking the car, calling your name a few times to try and wake you up, but you wouldn’t budge.

“jeez, gonna make me carry your ass up those damn stairs.” he groaned while getting out of the car and opening the door to yours.

“y/n-” he grew quiet, seeing your pale face made his blood run could. draken quickly bent down and put his ear on your heart, two fingers on your wrist.

no beat, no pulse.

“no, no⸻y/n, wake up! please, i need you to wake up!” draken cried, wrapping his arms around your cold and lifeless body to give you some of his warmth.

but it was no use, you were already gone.

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cupids-chamber · 1 year

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CELEBRATING NEW YEARS WITH THEM + NEW YEARS EVE! RSA + DIASOMNIA

GENDER NEUTRAL READER A/N: Enjoy my contribution to new years. Also all stories, and most characters part is connected somehow.. read all parts to get a few extra info.. you don't have to though! Slight spoilers in the first headcanon for Lilia, so skip over the first sentence!

POMEFIORE + HEARTSLABYL + IGNIHYDE / SCARABIA + OCTAVINELLE + SAVANACLAW / RSA + DIASOMNIA /

A new year was nothing exceptional to the fae, as he lived through many years with his long live span... He didn't find the mark of a new year worth celebrating.. that was before you convinced him of course.. You had convinced the young fae King to throw a party.. to mark the start of a new year.. You had rarely asked for anything since your marriage.. So, he couldn't help but agree... Had you known that Malleus would have interpreted your wish in such a grandiose way, you may have gone back and asked him to rethink your decision, for your lover not only held a banquet so grand, it could be on par to a wedding.. all of the kingdom's nobles and some of your friends will be attending as well.

He didn't bother batting an eye on the expense, as he wished for your happiness above all else, had he known you wanted a simpler event with only your immediate friends and comrades, he would have reconsidered his rather excessive decisions but what could you do.. your lover went this far just to make you happy.. you couldn't help but find the action quite.. cute..

The event was quite exhausting, but you spent the day with your friends, and greeting some guests and generally trying your best to enjoy the event as it was.. though you did get in quite the trouble.. when Lilia had convinced you to participate in a drinking game.. You didn't know how many drinks you had by now. All you knew is that you had to beat Lilia, your pride was on the line here! It wasn't until Malleus took notice of your excessive drinking, that you stopped and everything after that was a blur in your memories..

The next morning you woke up with the excessive hangover.. And whenever you approached Malleus he got quite flustered.. 'What the hell did I do last night?...'

Lilia was quite shocked when he had gotten the invitation, all the way here in the the land he had chosen to retire in. He figured if he were to go, he should go with you.. I mean the two of you were bound to go together anyways, it just took a little convincing for him to make you step out of the comfort of your home and to the palace, but then again, the sly fae has almost always gotten his way regarding such events. You had expected the journey to take long, yet the trip went by unbelievably fast.. Needless to say you were grateful you didn't suffer from motion sickness...

When the two of you arrived at the banquet, it was fairly crowded.. and somewhere along the lines your partner had left you, telling you to enjoy it here 'that sly bastar—' before you could finish your thought someone had asked you to join your table.. unexpectedly It was one of your old friends! The two of you began talking and an hour passed, when suddenly you noticed how the crowd gathered elsewhere.. being the person you were, you didn't pay it much care.. until of course you realized it was Lilia.. up to his old man antic's again.. He apparently challenged the ever so competitive monarch to a drinking battle! And.. the King had to carry them out, while they struggled in his grasp.

"Lilia what did you do?" you asked the ex-general, as he gave you a sly grin. "Don't look at me like that and answer the questi— oh." he continued grinning, as you started putting the puzzles together.. "You know whatever your planning is not gonna end well right...?" he simply nodded.. Later on you found out the two of you will be spending the night in the castle as well.. Maybe you should rethink the idea of dating an ex-general who's this rash with decisions..

Silver hadn't expected to get and invitation out of nowhere during his break, his original plan was to spend the entire break with you, under warm blankets, eating snacks and whatnot while watching your favorite shows on Twistflex.. it wasn't anything exceptional.. yet the that's how the two of you spend Christmas together, and enjoyed it.. if you were honest Silver was such a sweetheart, the two of you spend a lot of time gathering ingredients and going shopping together.. And according to your schedule, right after celebrating new years as a couple, the two of your would go visit his father. Yet now everything had changed, as the king was throwing a party for the New year, something rather unexpected, but who were you both to deny.. after all you could do your plans another day as well! After all, you guys spent every moment you could together, being partially inseparable..

The two of you got dressed, taking your time to go to the banquet, knowing fairly well, the earlier you leave the more the traffic will be.. after all it was a invitation to the king's palace.. everyone would want to go early, and expect traffic to be fast if they left earlier.. that and you and Silver slept in and almost forgot about the invitation entirely, but then Silver got a call from Lilia and he remembered that their was an event the two of you should be attending..

The two of you made your way inside.. only to discover his dad's little 'prank' he calls it.. the two of you just got there, and began rethinking your choices.. maybe saying you two were out of town was a better idea then coming here.. Even so, the two of you enjoyed the meeting, catching up with friends... and etc.. The two of you enjoyed the day, even after whatever the hell Lilia did... since no one would tell you two.. what had fully happened.. that was until you two were on your way back home, and overheard Sebek ranting to his partner about Lilia's actions.. The two of you stared at each other dumbfounded, before letting out a laugh.. Something that Sebek didn't notice, but his partner surely did, giving the two of you a light wave. The two of you waved back, acknowledging their presence, before making your way back home.. Hopefully, the rest of the night could go well and you could continue the plans you had made previously, instead of falling asleep.

It took a lot of convincing to get Sebek to take a break.. but Malleus forced both him and Silver to take a couple weeks off.. He was more than capable of protecting himself.. But Sebek.. is well uhh.. Sebek! The two of your Christmas went surprisingly well, as Sebek was fairly cooperative for someone who didn't plan on taking a break.. The two of you even had plans of travelling out of town for new years.. So as far as you both were concerned.. you two hadn't planned anything for new years.. That was when you two received an last minute invitation to the king's banquet..

Usually Sebek would've rushed to the banquet, yet this time around your partner took his sweet long time.. something unexpected, yet pleasing nonetheless.. The two of you finally left for the banquet an hour into the party.. And when you got there another 30 minutes had passed.. And the sight was truly one to behold. Lilia drinking along with Malleus's beloved spouse, the two were chugging down glasses. And you could've sworn Lilia's fiancé lost a bit of their life force upon seeing the dreadful sight.... as for your boyfriend.. he froze in his spot. He didn't move.. 'was he even breathing?—' you thought, slightly concerned for the health of your lover.. He was loud but lovable nonetheless!

Sebek didn't recover from his shock for the rest of the night.. and you couldn't do much about the scenario- as your friends quickly dragged you away, separating you from the half fae. Your friends questioned what took you so long... and etc.. all of you caught up on missed times, planning to visit each other later.

Only when you planned on leaving did Sebek return to his senses, he seemed on edge throughout the banquet.. He started ranting, in a loud tone.. You prompted him to quiet down, hoping no one noticed.. Someone did however, but thankfully it was his friend Silver and his partner.. you waved at the couple who seemed to be getting ready for their departure in quiet the rush.. "Sebek calm down!"

Che'nya was invited to his friend Trey's new years party, and he dragged you along.. Sure it took some convincing, since you preferred to stay at home away from crowds.. But one look at those adorable cat eyes, as he pleaded with you.. and you knew you were doomed.. Hey.. at least Trey makes tasty treats, it's not all that bad.. The two of you arrived pretty early on.. and you quickly got dragged into their events that had been planned before you arrived.. "Ok 21 questions.. or whatever—" they slurred slightly on their words, obviously a bit tipsy, "We ask questions to whoever the bottle lands on and they take a drink if they can't answer" you assume that they had lost a few rounds before, and that's why they're so tipsy... "I don't think this is how we play this game.." you mumbled to your boyfriend, who chuckled and urged you to play along with their whims.. after all it's not always the two of you go to such events.. 'That's a lie, he forces you to go to all his friends events because he likes seeing you interact with others'..

You sat at the corner of the couch, beside your fiancé.. hoping to avoid the bottle at all times possible.. but to your luck it lands on you! Outrageous! "Ok, Y/n..." you could've sworn you saw an evil glint in Trey and his spouse's eyes, as if they've been waiting for this very moment.. maybe that's why Riddle was so drunk in such a short spam of time... You began to understand Riddle more, as you reached your fifth shot.. everyone making use of those 21 questions to learn more about how you and Che'nya had ended up dating... and why you didn't tell them about your engagement sooner... This must've been their revenge for the late announcement you thought, as you felt the 6th shot sink straight into your stomach... You glared at Che'nya when your round was finished, he seemed to have enjoyed your torture quite the bit.. "I nominate Che'nya for this round" you said aloud with a burst of confidence, it was probably the alcohol.. but no one was going to complain.. they could mess with you two a bit more!

By the end of it the two of you were rather tipsy.. the last thing you could remember was you and Che'nya making it a goal to finish this pie.. of some kind.. It was a bet you made with... er... Cater!! Your mind went blurry from there.. you probably fell asleep.. as the next time you woke up you were back at home.. with the most horrible of hangovers.. "Screw you Che'nya—" you muttered underneath your breath, as Che'nya chirped in from no where.. "Hey! What did I do?!"

'This wretched, lovable cat!—"

Neige had attended Vil's party.. which you were more than sure was just for appearances.. You sometimes wondered how naive your lover could be for attending such an event, even after he knew of Vil's blatant hatred towards him.. that's if he realized such a thing.. He considered the two of them as friends.. which you heavily doubted was a mutual feeling... The two of you had separated pretty early on in the party, and you choose to stay out of getting to close to any journalist or popular news company ceo's.. Like the founder of Fairy news or the leading chairmen of Twistfeed.. You were sure had you met them, they'd ask for an interview.. after all many were curious about your relationship with Neige..

The two of you had recently publicly confirmed your relationship.. And had been together for about an year and a half.. the two of you remained fairly private in terms of your relationship, as the media was quite intrusive to celebrity couples, and you had seen it first hand with your fellow co-stars.. But enough of that! It was new years.. As you skimmed through the sheer selection in accommodations, you couldn't help but turn starry-eyed at the sight.. and that was when your lover began dragging you out of the area without an explanation.. he seemed mad... Extremely pissed.. which was something quite unlike your beloved sweetheart. You choose not to ask for an explanation when he said "we have to go".. something happened and he obviously weren't in the mood to explain..

You knew for a fact, that if any journalists were there.. which they most definitely were.. this would make it to the new's tomorrow morning.. yet you didn't mind.. valuing your lovers emotions over image.. the next morning went by normally, and when you brought up the previous nights incident, Neige paused...

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onboardsorasora · 2 months

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one of my melatonin ideas lol I hope its good lmao my asks have been so full of pregnant Daniel recently that this was clearly the next step on forward.

Dewis Hidden Pregnancy 1400wrds part 2

cw: omegaverse, mpreg, so if you're not into that sorry.

Lewis walked into the paddock in Albert Park. Past the Melbourne walk and through the wall of photographers waiting for his entrance. The alpha took a left by the FIA building and stopped up short at the crowd in front of him.

There were drivers and media handlers surrounding someone and he could smell the excitement of the group. He slowed down, trying to see what was causing the large crowd when he heard a sound he hadn't heard in person in a while. Daniel's laugh.

Daniel was back?

Lewis thought back to the last time he'd seen the omega, back in Silverstone last year. They'd gone on a date after the race. It had been a lovely time, Lewis had thought. Daniel had done the test for Red Bull the following week and then he’d gone back to Australia after and kinda stayed off the grid.

Lewis hadn't heard from him at all, he'd hoped to invite Daniel out on another date and maybe another after that. Hoped to eventually be able to call the omega his. But Daniel hadn't returned any of his calls or texts until Lewis just stopped.

He'd asked around if anyone had heard from him but people weren't very forthcoming. Lewis had been hurt, but he'd let it go as best he could. He hadn't expected Daniel to ghost him, but there was nothing he could do about it except accept that it was a problem with Daniel and not with him.

The crowd dispersed a little and Lewis was able to see just what drew everyone together. Daniel looked good, he wore a creme sweater and his usual skinny jeans. His hair had grown out a little, looking more like his Renault days than anything.

Daniel bent over a bassinet and Lewis watched with wide eyes as he lifted out a small baby, bouncing the bundle and making shushing noises. Daniel looked over at Lewis and froze, the alpha felt sick at the fear that enveloped his normally sweet scent. His eyes were wide.

Lewis prided himself in being quick on the uptake, but he honestly felt like his thoughts were swimming through sludge right now. A pudgy brown hand with a tiny golden bracelet patted Daniel's lips, gripping at his nose.

Daniel had a baby.

Daniel had a baby with darker skin.

Lewis always figured he was good at math and equations. He knew that Silverstone was roughly nine months ago give or take a week or two.

Daniel had a baby.

“Hi.” Daniel placed the small bundle back in the bassinet, making more shushing noises when the baby started to fuss again. “Uhm, we should talk I guess?” Daniel's voice was soft, timid. Lewis had never heard it that way before.

Lewis took a deep breath. There was a benefit to being stunned silent, he had additional time to collect himself and assess the situation. They were still very much in public, he couldn't afford any amount of reaction right now.

The alpha nodded, “ok.”

Daniel led them into a small office with curtains on the windows and locked the door behind them. Lewis stared at the covered bassinet, he couldn't see the baby inside but he could hear and smell them. Daniel started wringing his hands together, the odor of his nerves was pungent in the room.

“I'm sorry.” Daniel whispered.

“You were pregnant?” Lewis looked between the bassinet and Daniel's nervous face again. The omega nodded jerkily and Lewis felt his chest seize. “It's mine?”

Daniel uncovered the basket with shaky hands and lifted his little girl out of the soft interior. Her little beanie fell off leaving her soft curls to spring free. Her caramel colored skin was darker than Daniel's but lighter than his own– a perfect blend of both of them.

“I have a daughter?” Lewis' voice cracked and Daniel looked painfully contrite. “Why?”

Lewis locked eyes with Daniel's wet ones.

“I was scared. You– I–we'd only been on one date and I didn't know how…serious you wanted to be. I was afraid that you'd react badly– I hadn't known what I wanted to do if I wanted to keep it so I went home to try and figure it out. Then I got offered the Alpha Tauri drive and–and I would have had to- to get rid of her and I hadn't wanted to.”

“You didn't tell me?” Lewis accused.

“You didn't sign up for this, I didn't wanna like burden you.”

“That wasn't your decision?!” Lewis raised his voice before biting back his reaction. He had a daughter. He was a father. He didn't even know Daniel was pregnant. “So you were just going to hide her from me forever?”

Lewis looked at him betrayed when Daniel stayed silent for longer than a moment. “You were!”

“... Not forever.” Daniel whispered, clutching the baby close.

“Why..?” Lewis felt like the bottom of his stomach dropped out. The room stunk of upset alpha.

“Please don't take her from me…” Daniel pleaded and Lewis' eyes widened as if the omega had hit him.

He left the room quickly, shutting the door behind him firmly while walking down the corridor to get some air. He had a daughter. He had a daughter and he didn't know. All this time Daniel had been pregnant and hadn't told him. Daniel was afraid of him.

Lewis' chest hurt. He never thought Daniel could think that of him. He'd never claim to understand the mind of a pregnant or nesting omega but he and Daniel had known each other for long enough that the alpha was sure Daniel knew his character.

Or at least he thought he did.

He paced the empty space for a while, taking deep breaths and trying to get control of himself again. He looked back down the empty corridor before taking another deep breath, in for seven out for ten.

He had a daughter. He had a daughter that he hadn't known about. Daniel had been pregnant and had been alone. Lewis was going to meet his daughter and he needed to fix things with his omega.

Because Daniel was his omega, that had always been the plan. Underneath everything, the hurt and upset and general shock, he knew it to still be true. He wanted Daniel and he wanted his family. They would figure this out.

He walked back to the room and paused at the door, listening to the sounds inside. Their daughter was crying and Daniel was attempting to quiet her, Daniel’s voice was raspy too as if he’d been crying.

Lewis pushed open the door.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry. I messed up but I’ll figure it out with your Daddy, I’ll make it right. I’m so sorry my love.” Daniel was stooped on the floor in the further corner of the room, rocking their small bundle to his chest. He fingered a chubby cheek, trying to smooth out the sharp shape of her frown. “My bad decisions won’t ruin your life, I promise baby girl.”

“Is that why you came? To tell me?” Lewis asked quietly. Daniel’s eyes snapped up to look at him, he stood quickly and flashed away his tears with his palm.

“You deserved to know. To like be in her life if you wanted…” His voice cracked but he powered through.

“What if I want to be in your life too?” Lewis asked softly and Daniel sniffled.

“You’d– you’d want that? After what I did?”

Lewis took a moment to answer, to think about how to explain it. “Yes.” He settled on. “I don’t trust you, and I’m very hurt and I feel betrayed…. But I want to work past that.”

Daniel’s scent soured, no doubt hating himself for what he’s done. But he nodded and stepped forward slowly, meeting Lewis in the middle of the room. He offered the now quiet baby to the alpha who looked down at her bright dark brown eyes with his own wide ones.

“Her name’s Ava. She’s two months old.”

Lewis smiled when Ava smiled up at him, reaching a chubby hand towards his face. “Hi Ava, it’s lovely to meet you.”

To Daniel he said, “we’ll figure this out. No more secrets.”

Daniel nodded, “no more secrets.”

“Good.” Lewis grabbed his hand.

#dewis #lewis/daniel #hidden pregnancy au #omegaverse #idk if i like it. it didn't go where i think i wanted?

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marblemoovt · 1 year

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New Neighbour - Yuushi/K-san/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (Smut)

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: Fluff and Smut, Porn With Plot, Reader is AFAB but is Gender neutral otherwise, Threesome - F/M/Other, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, blowjob, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Pet Names, Edging, voyeurism?

Summary:

Moving into an apartment, you were planning to tough it out for a few years to save up for a better one. But then you meet your neighbour, and maybe living here won't be so terrible after all? Until you learn your hot neighbour is fucking someone else for hours every day. But what happens when you get to join them?

------ He holds a small box out to you. “I think the movers left this at my door by mistake,” he says. You examine the box and recognize your handwriting on the side. He tilts his head to the side and adds, “I’m Yuushi Totsumoto. I live next door.” This is the first neighbour you’ve met. You have yet to meet anyone besides the landlord; it’s like a bunch of ghosts live here.

You clear your throat when you realize you’re staring. “Ah, sorry.” You grab the package and hug it to your chest. “Thanks. I just moved here.” You gesture to the boxes behind you and introduce yourself.

His lips tug into a smirk as he examines you. “See ya around, neighbour.” Yuushi waves and heads back to his apartment. You stand there in a daze. You just met the guy, but fuck was he hot. Shutting the door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Note:

This took me forever to write. Last time I checked there was only one other fic for this manga on tumblr, and I felt the need to correct that. If you guys haven't read Lady K & The Sick Man, I highly recommend it to anyone looking for an erotic manga. The two protagonists are very fine and it's just something you have to see yourself to understand.

With that said, did you guys know there's already a fourth book??? It hasn't been translated yet so I read the raws. I vaguely understood what happened, but what a ride!! If anyone wants to look for it, you'll most likely have to search under 'Kko to yamioji'

This is also my first time writing smut that involves more than two people, so if the writing is a bit awkward, that might be why.

Happy Reading! (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

You’re living in an apartment building where someone has died. On the plus side, that means the rent is criminally cheap. On the downside, you didn’t learn about this until after you signed the lease.

You haul the last cardboard box into your apartment. The ad you saw boasted about its affordable rent, so you signed a contract the day after. Now here you are, in a slightly run-down apartment with sketchy neighbours. But you can’t complain about the price. You plan to stay here for a few years and save up for a place in a nicer area. The landlord seems polite enough, but you can tell he’s hiding something from you.

When you arrived to check out the apartment, he ushered you straight inside and kept the tour as short as possible. You barely had time to process before he brought you into his office and placed the paperwork on the table. Your current lease is ending soon, so it was either this building or scrambling to find another place. Persuaded by the low price, you signed your name.

So you packed up your things and moved out of your current place. You cleared your schedule to spend the rest of the day unpacking. The apartment is bare except for the pile of boxes, and you feel the procrastination creeping in. If you don’t start now, you’ll continue to live out of cardboard boxes, never to be unpacked until you eventually move. You take out the box cutter and begin slicing at the tape. Before you can even open the flaps, there’s a knock at your door.

You walk to the door and open it. There’s a middle-aged man with black hair and a scruffy beard. He holds a small box out to you. “I think the movers left this at my door by mistake,” he says. You examine the box and recognize your handwriting on the side. He tilts his head to the side and adds, “I’m Yuushi Totsumoto. I live next door.” This is the first neighbour you’ve met. You have yet to meet anyone besides the landlord; it’s like a bunch of ghosts live here.

“What just happened?” you ask yourself. When you signed the paperwork, you didn’t think much about neighbours. Living here doesn’t seem so bad after all. You set the package aside and continue unpacking. The first box is labelled ‘Bedroom.’ You have a futon and some drawers, which require little effort to unpack. Next are the items that go on the walls. There are posters and picture frames you want to put up. As you pick up your blanket, a loud moan comes from the other side of the wall.

You pause, wondering if you heard that right. Another moan followed by a squeal. It’s coming from the apartment next door. Yuushi’s apartment. Of course, the hot neighbour you met is already taken. The discovery leaves a hollow feeling in your chest, but you’re glad you found out soon after meeting him. You can’t make out their conversation, but your thoughts run wild. From what you remember, Yuushi has a pleasant voice. Deep and gruff, a voice that sends a rush of blood between your legs.

There’s a rhythmic pounding that accompanies the lewd noises. Whoever this woman is, she’s extremely lucky. Is it inappropriate that you’re so smitten over a man you just met? Probably, but you ignore the warning signs because you’re blindsided by his appearance. You’re not sure you can tolerate these noises if they happen frequently. You lay your blanket and pray the noises are a rare occurrence. That night, you head to bed unbelievably horny and frustrated, forced to listen to your neighbours as they fuck for hours.

You wake up the next day and resume unpacking. Yesterday you finished the bedroom and bathroom. All that’s left now is the kitchen and miscellaneous items. You live alone, but you have extra utensils for when you have company. It’s strange how some people live with only one set. What do they do when they have guests? You organize everything by category. All the glasses go into one cupboard while plates and bowls go into another. The cutlery has its own drawer, and the miscellaneous kitchen tools are placed in the next one.

You enjoy cooking, but living alone means you never have anyone to share it with. The cold weather makes you crave something warm, like curry. You might as well make extra and freeze the leftovers for another time. Since you just moved, your fridge is bare. A quick grocery run later, and you have all the ingredients you need.

As you stand outside your door and fiddle with your keys, Yuushi also returns home. “Hiya, neighbour,” he greets. Unlike yesterday, he’s wearing a suit.

“Hello.” You wave, but it’s awkward with your hands full.

“Groceries?” He nods towards the bags.

You hum, “Yeah, I want to make curry tonight. What about you?”

“I could go for some curry,” he says. You tilt your head at the unexpected answer. Yuushi flushes when he understands your question. “Oh. I was at work,” he answers, lifting up the briefcase in his hand.

Your eyes linger on his face. Pink looks good on him. “You work in an office?” you ask. You didn’t peg him for a salaryman.

“Just a temp job,” he shrugs, “I do a lot of part-time work.” You admire his outfit, tempted to drag him by his tie into your apartment. Licking your lips, you meet his dark gaze. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a knowing smirk. You remind yourself that this man has a girlfriend—potentially a wife!

Clearing your throat, you glance at the ingredients you bought. “Um, do you want some curry?” you offer. “I always make extra.” If he says yes, maybe that will give you an opportunity to enter his apartment.

Yuushi grins, and it sets off the butterflies in your stomach. “Really? That would be great!” He can barely contain his excitement, and you find it adorable. “Been a while since someone’s cooked me a meal,” he comments.

His energy is infectious, and you bounce on the balls of your feet. “I’ll drop by later then.”

He grins and says, “Lookin’ forward to it.” You turn to your door and miraculously unlock the door in one attempt. You shake off the feeling of his eyes on your back and head inside. Shutting the door and turning the lock, you hear his footsteps fade.

Leaning against the door, you sigh. “Just a friendly neighbour,” you whisper to yourself. “I’m just a friendly neighbour.” You head to the kitchen and hunt for your pots and pans.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

The entire kitchen is filled with the scent of turmeric and cumin. You can almost taste the spices on your tongue. All that’s left is for the curry to thicken. The mixture gurgles as it simmers and reduces. You give it a stir, taste-testing to check if you need to add more seasoning. You decide to leave it alone and look for some Tupperware. There’s a bag you keep of reusable takeout containers from restaurants. You select one and check on the curry.

The curry is nice and thick now. You turn off the heat and grab a ladle. You scoop some into the container, sealing the lid tight afterwards. A giggle bubbles in your throat. You can’t remember the last time you were this excited to cook for someone. Stopping by the bathroom, you clean yourself up and head outside, clutching the curry to your chest.

You stop in front of Yuushi’s door and take a deep breath. Bringing up a fist to knock on the door, you’re startled by another scream. You bite your lip. Of fucking course.

You return to your apartment and grab a second container, filling it with another serving of curry. On a sticky note, you write down instructions for how to reheat the food. Hesitantly, you add a smiley face at the end. Walking back outside, you set the containers in front of his door, rap your knuckles twice, and sprint back to your apartment. You shut the door as quietly as possible, but even the slightest noise sounds like an explosion. You breathe a sigh of relief when you don’t hear his door open. Another moan, followed by a deep grunt, rumbles the walls. You slump to the floor and lean back, thumping your head against the door.

You are such a fucking idiot.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

You don’t speak to Yuushi after that, mostly because his erratic schedule leaves little chance of running into him. He also never thanked you for the curry, so maybe you’re also trying to avoid him because you’re petty. I mean, a week has gone by and not once has this man left a note. He never even returned the containers! So yeah, you feel the need to be a little bitter.

Despite being upset, you can’t help but get incredibly turned on every night listening to them. You learn that if you’re close enough to the wall, you can make out what they’re saying. It’s muffled, but you’ll take what you can get. So far, it’s all dirty talk from Yuushi. His partner doesn’t seem to speak other than the noises of pleasure she makes. Is the sex really that good?

You know what you’re doing is perverted, but it’s very hard not to touch yourself when Yuushi’s husky voice says things like ‘I’m gonna stuff ya with my cock,’ and ‘are you cumming? How cute.’

Thus masturbating while listening to your neighbours has become a nightly ritual. Otherwise, you’re too frustrated to get a good night’s sleep. You’ve considered politely asking them to be quieter, but confrontation has never been your strong suit. Plus, someone banged on their door last night. That only escalated the moans and screams. It’s a mystery how anyone else here sleeps at night—earplugs. You should buy earplugs. Why didn’t you think of that earlier? Oh, right. You were too busy thinking about what it would look like to have Yuushi’s face between your thighs.

So you buy some earplugs, and it works for a few nights. Until you start having wet dreams. The only prevention that works is relieving yourself before sleeping. Which leaves you back at square one. You don’t know how much longer you can keep living like this. The lease is for a year, and it’s barely been a month since you moved in. That’s when you come up with a plan. Maybe you can fuck it out of your system?

On the weekend, you dress up for a night out. You don’t have a complex plan. Just find someone to bring home for the night. Although with your neighbours’ track record, it’s probably best to go to a motel. Slipping on your shoes, you take one final look in the mirror. Your reflection smiles back at you. You feel hot—sexy even! You grab your bag and head out, wrinkling your nose at the scent of cigarette smoke. Since you plan on drinking, you call a taxi to drive you to the bar. When you enter the vehicle, you miss a pair of eyes watching you from next door.

If you were more outgoing, you would have chosen a club. But it’s been a while, and you think you’re past your clubbing days. When you arrive at your destination, you pay the driver and head inside. Taking a seat at the counter, you order your favourite drink. Might as well drink something you like and get drunk. The bartender nods and accepts your money. Your order is in front of you in a few minutes, and you take a sip.

“What’s a lovely thing like you doing here all alone?” a voice says from your right. You nearly choke on your current sip. Turning your head, you meet blue eyes and neatly-styled brown hair. His features are chiselled and angular like those marble statues. You wonder if he’s a foreigner or if his family is. Honestly, he’s very handsome by society’s standards.

“Um…drinking?” you phrase it more like a question than an answer because, apparently, your brain ceases to function around attractive people. The man chuckles, and the warm timber sends your stomach into a frenzy. Your cheeks flame from embarrassment, and you take another sip to calm your nerves.

“Lovely and charming. Let me buy you a drink,” he offers. This man is clearly flirting with you. All the confidence you had before leaving your apartment vanishes in an instant. How the heck are you supposed to respond?? And then you realize you’re not ready for this. You’re not prepared to have a one-night stand. Yuushi has already burrowed deep into your heart and claimed a piece of it.

“That’s very kind, but no, thank you,” you reply. Going out tonight was a mistake; you know that now. Scratch that. Thinking you could get some random stranger to make you forget your hot-ass neighbour was a mistake. You’ll still have to see Yuushi and hear his moans at ungodly hours every single day. As long as you live there, you’ll continue to pine like the naive idiot you are. You chug down the rest of your drink and call the bartender for your bill.

The man beside you is unphased by your rejection. “No? Then how about we get out of here, go somewhere less crowded.” His hands creep around your waist, and you recoil with a shudder.

“I shouldn’t. I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” you lie, pretending to check your phone for messages.

“Are you sure? I saw you get out of a cab by yourself,” he says, and your blood runs cold. What the actual fuck??

“You were watching me.” It’s not a question but an accusation. You keep your tone level, refusing to let panic crack your facade. Despite your glare, he nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders and grins.

He leans closer and says, “More like you happened to catch my eye. So what do you say? I’ll make it worth your while.” This man is too damn persistent. It’s actually starting to piss you off.

“As I said, I’m waiting for my boyfriend. I’m not interested in leaving with you,” you insist. Your glass is empty, and the alcohol hasn’t kicked in yet. You’re way too sober to be dealing with this bullshit right now. You signal to the bartender for another drink, and she nods, her eyes lingering on the man beside you.

He scoffs and pulls out his wallet. “Look, I’ll pay you if that makes it easier.” He takes out a cheque and a pen. “How much?” he asks like he’s buying a shirt. Did he really just ask you to name a price on your body?

You blink, too stunned to speak, until outrage burns in your veins. “Excuse me?!”

He looks you up and down. “I know what you’re trying to do. You say no, but you’re all dolled up. You’re playing hard to get, and while it was interesting, it’s getting annoying now.” He begins writing on the cheque, pausing to appraise you before continuing.

You clench your glass, ready to smite this fool down. “Wha—“

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” a deep voice says from behind. You get a faint whiff of cigarette smoke and cologne. You know that voice. Because it’s the same one you’ve gotten off to every night since you moved. You tilt your head up and see Yuushi smiling down at you. How does he still manage to look attractive from this unflattering angle?

“Fuck off, pal. I saw this one first,” the man spits, scrunching his nose at Yuushi’s appearance.

Yuushi hangs an arm around your shoulder. “Why don’t you fuck off. This one is already mine,” he fires back. You know it shouldn’t, but his words make you squirm in your seat. Yuushi glances at you with an amused expression.

“And who are you?” the man asks, and you swear his face grows redder with each passing second. His once handsome features are marred with a snarl. He reminds you of those birds or frogs that puff themselves up to look intimidating.

Yuushi pulls you into his chest—which is very broad and muscular, by the way. You're almost too distracted to pay attention to their conversation. “The boyfriend. Now piss off and find somethin’ else to stick your dick in,” he replies.

The man rises from his seat, but the look Yuushi shoots him sends him skulking away. You hear him mutter angrily to himself. Not even a minute later, he’s already chatting someone else up. You have to admire his tenacity.

The bartender comes up. “I’m glad your boyfriend stepped in,” she says. “I was going to have him kicked out, but your boyfriend came just in time.” You flush at the misunderstanding. Before you can correct her on your relationship with Yuushi, she slides another drink in front of you. “Here, this one’s on me.” You thank her and take a sip. Your throat burns more than your cheeks. Whatever she gave you, it’s stronger than your last drink. You grimace and down the entire glass, licking your lips.

A thin blanket of fog rolls across your mind. Through your tipsy haze, you remember you’re not alone. There’s an arm wrapped around your waist, and you look to your left. “Yuushi? What are you doing here?” you ask.

He chuckles and squeezes your hip. “I, uh, wanted to return the containers and thank you for the curry,” he says. A week has passed since then. Why is he thanking you now of all times?

You furrow your brows. “So you followed me to the bar?” A quick observation reveals him to be empty-handed. “Were you… worried about me?” you ask. You don’t receive an answer. Instead, Yuushi helps you out of the stool and guides you to the exit. He places some money on the counter for your bill.

He opens the door, and the cool evening breeze whips against your face. “Let’s go home,” he says. Pulling your shivering form to his side, he adds, “a walk might help ya sober up.” It’s only a 15-minute walk, and you’re too intoxicated to disagree. The warmth radiating from his body is cozy, which leaves you clinging to his arm.

You keep your gaze on the sidewalk and ask, “You don’t want to question why I went out tonight?” You play with the cuffs of his jacket. The material feels new underneath your fingers.

Yuushi shrugs, his steps unfaltering. “None of my business.”

You bite your lips. “...Did your girlfriend like the curry?” you mumble into his arm, hiding your flushed complexion.

Yuushi perks up and starts gesturing animatedly with his free hand. “Your curry was delicious! And your note was cute. I—“

You cut him off. “Not you. Your girlfriend.” Inhibitions freed, you’re on a mission to figure out what’s going on with this man. A part of you is clinging to the hope that you still have a chance.

“I don’t have one,” he answers in a matter-of-fact tone. Ok, so he’s not dating anyone—the moans sound too high-pitched to be another man. The cynical voice in your brain points out that it doesn’t rule out marriage.

“Then who are you pounding every waking minute you spend at home?” you prod, noticing how Yuushi shortens his strides. He doesn’t look at you as he searches for an answer.

“It’s… complicated,” he finally says.

You scoff, “I’ve heard that one before.” You know it’s none of your business who he sees and what he does with them, but you feel hurt anyway when he doesn’t give you a straight answer. Maybe you’re hoping for a firm rejection so you can move on with your life.

Yuushi shakes his head. “No, it really is. Look, why do you care so much?” he asks, eyes widening when he jumps to conclusions. “Shit, are we too loud? I know a couple of the others have complained, but you’re right next door.” He babbles some apologies, panic evident on his face.

You chuckle and look him straight in the eyes. “I like it; it turns me on,” you confess.

Yuushi’s smile wavers. He looks unsure how to respond. “How much did you drink?” he asks, scanning your face.

You hum and count with your fingers. “Juuuuust… two?” You hold your hand up to his face and grin.

Yuushi chuckles, and you like how the vibrations rumble against your body. “What a lightweight,” he teases.

With your filter gone, everything that comes through your brain comes out of your mouth. You hum and lean into his side. “I touch myself every night listening to you two.”

Yuushi laughs. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about,” he rasps. The gravel in his voice and his heated gaze send a gush of slickness between your thighs.

You pout and whine, “Why do you have to be so hot? I thought I could find someone else, but there’s no one else I’d rather fuck.” You don’t quite love him yet, but you want him carnally with an intense desire you’ve never felt before.

Your words cause Yuushi to halt. You’re unaware of this and continue walking, losing balance when you’re jerked backwards. Yuushi steps forward to catch you, and you land against his broad chest with a thud, his arms securing themselves around your waist. “....I didn’t know you felt that way,” he whispers into your ear.

You shudder at the closeness and say, “Oh, you make me feel all kinds of ways. But you have a girlfriend, so it makes me feel bad that I want you.” It takes all your willpower not to turn your head around. You know you’ll lose all reason and kiss him senseless if you do.

“What if,” he pauses, “I told you that I also want you?”

“I’d tell you that you’re either a terrible liar or a cheating asshole,” you reply. And from the bulge prodding you from behind, you’re leaning towards the latter.

Yuushi groans when you try to wiggle out of his grip. “She’s not my girlfriend. We’re more like roommates with benefits—”

You gasp, “And they were roommates!” You giggle to yourself.

Yuushi chortles. “...I think I’m too old to understand that reference.” He bends down and scoops you up. “C’mon, we’re almost home. I’ll help you to the door.” You’re thankful you don’t have to walk the rest of the way, but you won’t voice the reason out loud. Each step was delicious torture, but the light friction was beginning to frustrate you. It’s not enough to scratch that itch or quench the fire consuming you.

The sidewalk is still blanketed in darkness, the apartments a faint glow on the horizon. Lamps mark the street like checkpoints, and you occupy yourself by running your hands across Yuushi’s broad chest. A pleased hum purrs from your throat as you feel the solid muscle beneath your fingertips.

“You’re killing me, baby,” Yuushi groans, breathless and needy. It sends a jolt of desire straight to your core. You nip his chin and giggle at the shivers that wrack his body. The hand on your thigh tightens, and his dark eyes narrow at you. “Don’t tease,” he commands. His authoritative tone sends another wave of arousal, but your hands drop, and you become still.

The speck of light becomes a beacon, and the warm yellow glow welcomes you home. Yuushi walks up to your door and sets you down. You rummage around your bag for your keys, giggling at how surreal the entire night feels. The memory of fondling Yuushi is something alcohol will not be able to wipe away. You unlock your door despite struggling to slot the key into the keyhole.

You turn around to face Yuushi. “Thank youuu,” you slur, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He looks at you, jaw slack and eyes wide. You glance down at the tent in his pants and smirk. Stepping closer, you lean into his ear and whisper, “I hope you think about me when you fuck her.” You chuckle at the noise that chokes up in his throat.

He swallows, and you watch his adam’s apple bob with hooded eyes. “We’ll talk in the morning,” Yuushi says. He brings up a hand and skims your cheek with the back of his fingers. The feather-light touch leaves you wanting more. You want to know how it feels to have his hands explore the rest of you. You’re sober enough to know you’re too drunk for this, so you step back.

“Yes, sir,” you agree with a salute. Yuushi smiles at your antics, and the fond look in his eyes churns your stomach.

“Get some sleep.” His eyes dart to your lips, but he averts his gaze and clears his throat. “Sweet dreams, neighbour,” he says, shuffling his feet.

“Goodnight, Yuushi.” You walk into your apartment, poking your head out. You smile and wave before closing the door. His footsteps don’t start until you turn the lock, and the gesture fills you with warmth. Worn out from tonight’s events, you do the bare minimum to prepare for bed. Slipping out of your clothes, you don’t bother changing into pyjamas. So you sleep in undergarments, passing out the second your head touches your pillow.

In the morning, you wake up in a puddle of your arousal. You had a dream which was very vivid and involved a threesome with Yuushi and his mysterious roommate. Groaning, you peel yourself off the bed and remove the sheets to wash them. A knock from the door startles you. Stretching your limbs, you make your way to the door. The stickiness between your thighs is a constant reminder for a shower and an orgasm later.

Opening the door reveals Yuushi. “Good morning!” you greet, ignoring the dull throbbing in your head. It’s like someone stretched an invisible rubber band around your head that squeezes you tight.

“G’morn…” Yuushi stops mid-sentence. He holds a small plastic bag in one hand and a bottle in the other. You tilt your head to the side and stare at him. His gaze strays from your face and flicks back to your eyes. “Black is, um, a good colour on you,” he says. You look down and see that you’re only wearing a matching set of lacy, black undergarments.

Hooking your thumb in your underwear band, you grin at him. “Thanks, I look better without them on,” you say, and Yuushi flushes red. From what you recall from last night, there’s no point in pretending you’re not attracted to him. So you might as well see how many boners you can give him until he decides to bend you over and rail you.

“I, uh, got these for ya,” he says, holding the items in his hands out to you. “I figured you’d wake up feelin’ like shit.” The contents of the plastic bag rattle as you take it from him. The drink is one they sell at convenience stores for hangovers.

You peek inside the bag and recognize the label of the pills. “Thank you,” you say, unscrewing the cap on the bottle and downing the drink in one chug. The bitter, herbal taste on your tongue twists your lips into a grimace.

Yuushi chuckles. “Open your mouth,” he commands. Confused, you comply and part your lips. He pushes something into your mouth, and it dissolves in sugary goodness. You moan as the foul taste from the drink is washed away with candy. “Huh, I wonder what other sounds you would make if I stuck somethin’ else in there.” His comment catches you off guard.

But you don’t miss a beat when you reply with, “Why don’t you try and find out?” His jaw tightens, and his eyes darken.

“I need you to get dressed first. There’s someone I want you to meet,” he says. You don’t have to guess who. Maybe your threesome fantasy will come true? But it’s not like your life is some raunchy romance novel. He’ll probably introduce you to his roommate and then reject your feelings.

“Do you want to come inside and wait while I change?” you offer.

Yuushi bites his lip and shakes his head. “Baby, if I come inside, we won’t leave for a while.” There he goes again with the pet name. It genuinely fills you with warmth and a sense of comfort. Honestly, Yuushi could call you anything, and it would give you heart palpitations.

You nod and head inside. You take a quick shower to rinse the stickiness and the stench of alcohol from your skin. You grab a random outfit from your wardrobe, making a bold decision to not wear any undergarments. Once you’re all ready, you head outside to meet Yuushi. He greets you again with a smile. The morning light sharpens the ache in your head, and Yuushi shields you from the sun.

“I’ve wanted to introduce ya to each other, but I wasn’t sure how you’d react.” He opens his door and looks at you over his shoulder. “Just don’t freak out.” His ominous comment does nothing to calm your nerves. The floorboards creak, and several doors slam open. A blur of dark blue and white collides with Yuushi. “Hey, K. I brought someone over.”

You stare in astonishment. A woman in a white dress peeks at you from behind Yuushi. Her smile is gentle, but it looks like she might scamper away if you make any sudden movements.

“Hi?” You wave and remain rooted to the spot.

“This is K,” Yuushi introduces the woman. Her gaze fixates on you, and she refuses to leave her hiding spot. “K, this is our neighbour.” He side-steps, and you get a good look at her. Dark locks form a waterfall that cascades down to her butt. Long lashes frame her blue eyes that are veiled by her messy hairstyle. She is very well endowed, and the first thought that comes to mind is the terrible back pain she must endure. She’s gorgeous. You can see why Yuushi likes her. The shy smile on her face stretches wide, and she waves back. “Ah, K doesn’t talk much, by the way. So don’t worry if she doesn’t say anything,” he adds.

“Is this all you wanted to talk to me about?” you ask. K looks at you with wide eyes. It’s adorable watching her gaze dart across your figure, trying to take in every detail. She reminds you of a wild animal trying to determine your intentions. You can’t decide whether you want to dominate or be dominated by her. Yuushi whispers something to K, and she nods and makes noises of approval.

“I was gonna ask if you’d like to join us?” Yuushi offers, and you’re floundered by his invitation. “I obviously want ya, but I needed to make sure K was alright with it,” he explains.

You stand there in silence, processing his words. “Like, a threesome?” Stupid. What else would he invite you to? Lunch? The smile on Yuushi’s face is lascivious, and you hear a quiet giggle from K.

Yuushi shoves his hands into his pockets, which draws your attention to the tent pitching in his pants. He rocks on the balls of his feet. “I know it might not be exactly what ya wanted, but—”

You cut him off. “I’m in.” This is exactly what you wanted. Maybe your life is a raunchy romance novel, after all.

Yuushi grins. “Eager, aren’t ya?” And the chuckle he bellows sends a tingle down your spine. K grabs your hand and leads you to the bedroom. You’re not used to focusing so much on a person’s expressions and body language before. Her grip on you is shaky, but the smile on her face is bright.

The door clicks behind you, and Yuushi is leaning against it with his arms crossed. “Strip,” he commands. His tone is firm, but the lines on his face are still soft. You rub your thighs together but make no other movement, too enthralled by his voice. He smirks and nods at K. “Give our neighbour a hand, would ya?”

“Mm!” K hums, and her delicate fingers skim down your torso. She grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up over your head. The cool air hits your nipples, and they stiffen in response. “Ah….” K stares at your chest and brings a hand up to your breasts, but she withdraws and looks at you.

“It’s ok, you can touch me,” you say. “Please touch me,” you beg. K nods, and her brows furrow in concentration. You bite your lip to hold back a laugh. She cups your breasts and circles your nipples with her thumbs. You hiss and melt into her touch.

“Ah!” K recoils like she’s been burned. Her eyes widen, and she bows her head.

“No, no, no,” you say, taking her hand and placing it back on your chest. “I liked it,” you reassure her. “Can you do it again, please?” She nods and pinches your nipples with a newfound sense of confidence. Her fingers pull and tug, every move calculated and adjusted after observing your reaction. “Yes, just like that.” You throw your head back and sigh when she squeezes your breast.

K leans forwards and wraps her mouth around your nipples. Her tongue flicks the stiff peaks, and you press yourself closer to her head. The jangle of a zipper catches your attention, and you turn your head to see Yuushi removing his pants. His boxers are next, and his cock springs free. The tip is swollen and leaking with pre-cum. He wraps his hands around his shaft and gives a few, short pumps. You tear your gaze away from his when you feel the cool breeze against your nipples once more. K looks at you, her pupils blown.

You can’t resist the urge to kiss her forehead. “Thank you, K.” And fuck. The smile she gives you afterwards shines brighter than the sun, and it doesn’t worsen your headache. Maybe you can convince her to live with you instead. She kisses your collarbone, trailing between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach. Her plush lips are warm and wet. With each kiss, she ignites a fire beneath your skin. Your breath hitches when she tugs your pants down, unveiling your naked skin.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Yuushi groans at your lack of underwear. “Looks like we got a naughty neighbour here.” You squirm in place, the slickness between your thighs adding to the delicious friction. You lick your lips, and saliva begins to pool in your mouth when you see his cock coated in precum. “Use your tongue, K,” he orders.

“Mm!” K pushes you down onto the futon. She squeezes your thighs and parts your legs. She hovers in front of your crotch, and her warm breath tickles your sensitive skin. You shiver in anticipation, muscles tensing when she laps at your clit. She does the same thing she did with your nipples and circles your clit with a finger. When she brushes over the bundle of nerves, you moan and buck your hips, clenching around emptiness. K runs a finger between your folds and pops it into her mouth. She hums at the taste and begins eating you out, wanting more.

“Fuck!” you cry out when her tongue enters you. Your mind is too foggy to notice how she’s reaching deeper than humanely possible. Electricity thrums in your veins, and your walls are trembling around her tongue. You make eye contact, and your stomach flutters at the pleased smile on her face. “You’re doing a good job, K,” you praise her. She brings a hand up to pet your clit, and your hips jolt. “So good,” you mumble. She starts pistoning her tongue in and out of you. Your hips chase after her movements, and you’re riding her face.

You teeter on the edge of an orgasm. Your thighs tremble, wet with your juices. K drinks from you with a ravenous thirst. Her loud slurps echo throughout the room, and you like how dirty it sounds. Something wet and firm taps your lips.

“Open,” Yuushi commands, and you comply. A salty tang coats your tongue, and his musky scent fills your nostrils. “Time to see what kinda noises you’ll make.” He grunts and slowly slides himself into your mouth. “You good, sweetheart?” he asks, and you hum in reply. You take in the rest of his cock and tease him with your tongue. “Fuck, baby. You look so hot with your mouth full.” His words spur you on, and you begin sucking. With your movements hindered, you take his hands and place them on your head. His eyes darken, and he pulls out. “I need to hear you say it, baby,” he says, waiting for your permission.

“Please fuck my mouth,” you plead. Your mind is hazy. K keeps bringing you to the brink of orgasm and pulling you back before you tip over. You need to have this man use you. You want his taste to overwhelm your senses and feel his seed spill down your throat.

Yuushi looks at you with lust-blown eyes. “You gotta grab my wrist if you want me to stop,” he says. “You understand?” You nod. “I need words, baby.” For a man whose partner doesn’t speak, he’s very insistent on hearing your vocal consent.

“Yes, sir,” you say, batting your lashes at him. He growls and grabs a fistful of your hair. Your scalp tingles with a slight burn that shoots a jolt of pleasure to your core. He rams his entire length into your waiting mouth. You resume sucking and running your tongue over his cock. K finds your g-spot, and she presses against the spongy area. The knot in your stomach threatens to snap as the pleasure builds.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with your mouth around my cock,” Yuushi praises, hips thrusting at a steady pace. “Do ya like it? Having your mouth and pussy stuffed at the same time?” You moan in response, and he chuckles. “I think you’re too drunk on sex to think right now.” He turns his head to K. “How’s it going down there, K?”

“Mm!” K groans and laps up the stream of juices trickling out of you. She’s eager to please, but her teasing is torture. Your body tenses as she brings you to a high, only to stop and let you plummet back to the ground. She laughs when you whine and grind against her face,

Yuushi smiles and looks back at you. “I think it’s about time we let ya cum. Whaddya say?” Yuushi asks. Pleading with your eyes, you beg him, desperate to have an orgasm. “Look at that face. I can’t say no to that,” he says. The grip on your hair tightens, and he speeds up his pace. “You know what to do, K.”

You widen your eyes, back arching when K assaults your g-spot and clit in tandem. Her ministrations are precise, and each stroke brings you closer and closer to your climax. Sensitive from her edging, waves of pleasure crash into you, sending you reeling into an orgasm. Your scream is muffled, and the vibrations cause Yuushi to stutter his hips. Warm ropes of cum shoot down your throat, and you swallow it all. You suck on his cock, milking the last few drops.

Yuushi slides out of your mouth and crouches down, smashing your lips together in a heated kiss. You’re positive he can taste himself, but he doesn’t hesitate to explore with his tongue. You shiver when K pulls her tongue out, clenching around nothingness, She flicks your clit, and you jerk from the overstimulation. Her giggle rings in your ears, and she plants a kiss on your inner thigh.

Yuushi moves away, and you whine at the loss of contact. He smirks and swipes a thumb across your swollen lips. “Ready for more?” he asks. “I’m gonna pound that tight cunt of yours ‘til it moulds into the shape of my cock.”

“Yes, please,” you beg. And for good measure, you add, “Sir.” He pushes you onto your back, spreading your legs. Two thick fingers enter and stretch you out. You moan and try to move your hips, but his other hand pins you in place. You squirm, but he chuckles and adds more of his weight,

“I’m only using my fingers, and you’re already squeezing so hard. How cute. You want me that badly?” he teases, fingers skirting around that sensitive spot. Close but never touching, and it drives you wild with need.

“I need to feel you inside me,” you plead, struggling to escape his iron grip. The callouses on his fingers scratch against your bare skin and send sparks of electricity in their wake. He’s giving you too much and not enough at the same time. The burn as he stretches you adds to the pleasure, but he continues to avoid your g-spot.

Yuushi smirks, “I am inside, sweetheart.” He shoves his fingers deeper and crooks them to prove a point. You clench your teeth and try to stop your walls from spasming. You want to feel him pulsing inside of you before you climax again.

“No,” you buck your hips, “I need your cock inside. Please, I need you to stuff me full.” Your walls clench around his fingers, aching for more. He pulls them out with a hum and licks them clean, groaning as he savours your taste.

Licking his lips, he lines his cock up with your entrance before grinding to a halt. “Fuck,” he curses, looking at you with wide eyes. “I don’t have any condoms.” He starts mumbling to himself about a quick run to the nearest store.

You tilt your head. “You don’t use any with K?” you ask. Although, given how often they have sex, condoms would be expensive.

“Well, no,” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We can buy some for next time—“ if there even is a next time “—but it should be fine since I’m on birth control.” Maybe K is in a similar situation, which would explain the lack of condoms. However, you would prefer to have them; two forms of contraceptives are better than one.

Yuushi bites his lip. “Honestly, sweetheart. I think you would look amazing with a cream pie. I wanna see that sweet cunt dripping with my cum,” he confesses. You would be lying if you said the idea didn’t turn you on.

You raise a brow and spread your folds, revealing your wet entrance. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Yuushi rubs the head of his cock up and down your slit, brushing it against your clit. Your walls flutter in anticipation, and you hold your breath when he starts easing in. Since Yuushi prepared you, there’s little resistance. The burn from the stretch is mild and pleasurable.

Yuushi closes his eyes as he sinks deeper inside, groaning when he bottoms out. He starts slow, rubbing lazy circles around your clit. “You take me so well, baby,” he praises. You preen at the compliment and move your hips to match his thrusts.

K pads over to your head, flushed and fidgety. She lifts her dress to reveal the cutest cunt you’ve ever seen, framed by a patch of dark blue. Her plump thighs are shiny with her juices, and your mouth waters. You don’t need to guess what she’s trying to ask. “You can ride my face, K,” you tell her. She smiles and climbs over, hovering above you. Sinking slowly, she hesitates and stops inches from your face. You breathe in her musky scent, mesmerized by her swollen clit and puffy lips. Impatient, you wrap your hands around her thighs and pull her down. She shrieks, which turns into a string of moans when you begin devouring her.

“Ah!” she cries out as you suck on her clit. Lapping up her juices, you drown in her sweet nectar. You’re drunk on her taste, and her heady scent makes your head spin. The bottom half of your face is messy, but you continue your ministrations. K is very responsive. She’s already quivering and on the brink of orgasm.

“Heh, you should see the lewd face she’s makin’,” Yuushi says. He pushes his thumb into K’s mouth, and she licks your juices off of it. “Good?”

She nods, “Mm!” and coats his finger with her saliva.

“Hear that, baby? She thinks you taste amazing. Be prepared to give me a sample later,” he says, pulling his thumb away to resume stroking your clit. Your mouth is busy, but the way you clench around him is all the response he needs. “You two are so fuckin’ hot,” he groans, picking up the pace. He lifts your right leg and rests it on his shoulder. The new position allows him to thrust at a deeper angle, and he brushes against your sweet spot.

You moan, sending a stream of vibrations into K’s throbbing cunt. The added stimulation sends her over the edge, and you can feel her clit pulsating against your tongue. She wails and rides out her orgasm, grinding her slick heat into your face.

“Ah!” K cries out and tries to pull away when you don’t stop, but you’re determined to get payback for the edging. Your nails mark her thighs with crescent moons, and Yuushi’s low chuckle spurs you on. A flick of your tongue opens the floodgates, and you’re directly in the splash zone. K becomes rigid, muscles tensing as another orgasm tears through her body. Gushes of liquid rain down on you, and you’re drenched with her release. You let go, and K slumps to the floor beside you, chest heaving and dress clinging to her sweaty form. Her hair is all over the place, and the smile on her face is relaxed. All the tension in her body is gone. She looks like she’s about to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“Holy shit. I haven’t seen her cum that hard in a while. You’re something special, aren’t ya?” Yuushi says. “Now that K’s all tuckered out, I want to see what face you’ll make when I make you cum again,” he slaps the pubic mound just above your clit, “and again.” Slap. “And again.” You jolt with each strike. He only uses enough force to leave a light sting, and you ache for more. You shudder, but he doesn’t miss how you bite your lip. His large hands wrap around your waist, and he picks you up like you weigh nothing.

Your arms flail and wrap around his neck for stability. The wolfish grin on his face sends a spike of arousal to your core. What is he planning? Your question is soon answered when he raises and drops you onto his cock. You gasp at the sudden movement, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your skull at how he drags along your walls. He doesn’t move, observing your reaction.

“You ok, sweetheart?” he asks, and this would be very wholesome if you weren’t impaled on his cock right now. “I don’t wanna be too rough with ya. Let me know if it’s too much,” he says.

“Do it again,” you say.

He smirks and squeezes your waist. “You gotta beg for it.” He tuts when your pout at him. “C’mon, I know you can. If you want it, you gotta beg.” You can feel his cock pulsing inside you; the heat makes it difficult to ignore. His thumbs rub little circles into your hips, and your body is already aching for more friction.

You groan and toss your shame out the window. “Fuck, Yuushi. Please fuck me. Fuck me until the only thing I can think about is your cock,” you plead. The smirk on his face both makes your blood boil and sing at the same time.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He lifts you again, but this time at an agonizing pace. His cock leaves you inch by inch for what feels like forever. And when you reach the tip, he slams back into you. Your nails bite into his shoulder as he repeats this over and over again until your mind is blank. “Look at you, baby. Absolutely drunk on my cock. You like it when I use you like this?” He aims for your g-spot on the next thrust and hits a bullseye. “I’m talkin’ to you, sweetheart.”

You whimper, “Yes, I love it.” As a reward, he raises and spears you with his cock once more. Your clit is throbbing, and you don’t think you’ve ever wanted to cum so badly before in your life. Yuushi spaces out his thrusts so that you’re more sensitive with each one, but it’s never enough to reach a climax. Every time your pleasure peaks, he waits until it almost fizzles out before setting you ablaze. It’s absolute torture, and you love it.

“Look at you, being so good for me,” he coos. You clench, thrilled by the way his muscles tighten. He grunts, “your insides are sucking me in, and they don’t wanna let me go.” Leaving one arm to support you, he brings his other hand to tease your clit. “Do ya wanna cum, sweetheart? Wanna cum all over my cock?”

You beg, “Yes. Please.” You’re desperate to finally climax. If you thought K’s edging was bad, Yuushi’s is ten times worse.

Yuushi hums, a sly grin on his face. “Why should I?”

You pause and stare at him with wide eyes, “You said I’ve been good. Please, Sir. I need to cum,” you sob.

“Alright then. Cum,” he commands. Both of his hands return to your waist, and he begins ramming into you relentlessly. Your body buzzes with pleasure, and your hips eagerly match his thrusts. “Look at me; I wanna see your face while you cum.” You obey, focusing your gaze on him. “Good. Touch yourself. I’ve got ya.” You bring a hand down to rub your swollen clit, and your blood thunders in your ears. That feeling in the pit of your stomach is building, and your fingers move faster without thinking. “There ya go. Just like that. Milk my cock with your tight cunt.”

He grunts and continues railing you. His cock twitches. You want to feel his hot seed paint your walls white. On purpose, you clench as hard as you can. Yuushi curses and his thrusts become short and sloppy as he chases his own high. He comes undone, a mixture between a groan and a growl leaving his throat. Ropes of thick cum shoot inside you, sending you over the edge. You roll your hips as your vision blurs, and white-hot pleasure courses through your body in waves. Your clenches coincide with the pulsating of your clit. The rush of endorphins leaves you feeling floaty.

Still buried to the hilt, Yuushi turns you around so your back presses against his chest. He sucks on the pulse point on your neck and plays with your clit. “Yuushi,” you groan, still very sensitive from your recent orgasm.

He nips your earlobe, and his hot breath tickles your ear. “C’mon, baby. I know you got another one in ya,” he whispers, voice husky and low.

You shiver and shake your head. “I can’t,” you whine. Your clit is still swollen, and even the slightest touch is unbearable.

He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder. “You can and you will.” His tone is both demanding and soft. His hand travels to your clit and circles around it. “C’mon, sweetheart. Cum one more time for me.” He avoids directly touching your clit and instead stimulates the surrounding area. He traces down your lips to where the two of you are joined. “This pretty cunt was made for me.” Slapping your pubic mound, he chuckles darkly when your head lolls back into the crook of his neck.

His deft fingers make short work of you, bringing you to that precipice once more before tossing you off the cliff. This one is less intense, but it lasts longer. Yuushi continues with light touches, helping you ride out your orgasm. The spikes of pleasure ease into a pleasant buzz. Yuushi whispers praise the entire time, placing small kisses along your shoulders, the scruff of his beard scratching your skin.

He unsheathes his cock and lays you beside K, flopping down on your other side. Your body trembles from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you can still feel a tingling sensation between your thighs. The entire room smells like sex, and there’s a faint smell of cigarettes that always lingers when someone smokes inside.

You stare at the ceiling in a daze. “That was….” You’re at a loss for words. Because how can you describe what you just went through? K holds your hand, her lips in a gentle curve upwards. Her eyes contain an understanding look, and the amount of affection in them makes your heart skip a beat. She glances at Yuushi, and the two share a silent conversation you can’t interpret.

“I like you, and so does K. Wanna make this a thing?” Yuushi asks, blunt and to the point. You suppose this is the best outcome you could have hoped for. At least if they want you to join them during sex regularly, it’ll help satisfy your urges.

You look away from him and instead focus on K, playing with her hair. “Would it be casual?” you ask.

Yuushi chuckles and traces your collarbone with his fingertips. “Not gonna lie, sweetheart. I like you a lot,” he confesses and adds, “K seems to have gotten attached to ya, too.”

You frown and turn your head to face him. “What are you trying to say?” You don’t want to get your hopes up.

Yuushi smiles and caresses your cheek. “I’m sayin’ that I want you to join our relationship.”

Your eyes bug out of your head, and you almost believe you heard him wrong. “Is that something both of you want?” you ask. You need to make sure, especially since K doesn’t talk. Because of this, you look at her first. K nods and scoots closer to your side, snuggling into you. She reminds you of a cat curling up beside you. Glancing over at Yuushi, he’s watching the two of you fondly, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Wouldn’t want anything else,” he says. “Although, there is one other thing.” Yuushi crawls down in front of your thighs, parting them with ease. He licks his lips and eyes your dripping cunt. “K got to taste you earlier; now it’s my turn.” He teases you with a short jet of cool air, and a shadow shields you from the bedroom light.

You glance up to see K’s breasts swaying above your head, nipples perked and begging to be touched. Her face is flushed, but she pushes her body closer to you. She makes this cute little squeak, and you open your mouth, latching onto her nipples. The salty taste of her sweat fills your tongue, and there’s a slight tang you can’t quite place. You moan, and she whimpers from the vibrations.

Yuushi’s deep chuckle rumbles against your inner thigh, and he licks a stripe up your slit, tasting the concoction of your juices mixed with his.

You shudder. Fuck. You’ll be lucky if you can even get out of bed in the morning.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

ASfdjga;kgjf. Not me learning a few days after posting this that his first name is Yuushi and not Totsumoto. My bad. I went back and changed it so apologies if that fucked any of the other text up. Did you know his name appears around 90 times in this fic? Yeah, wasn't fun to change.

At first, I was going to have K be more dominant, but she's such a sweetie in my mind. Please let me know your thoughts. I rarely write smut so it always feels like I'm doing something 'wrong.'

I am interested in a scenario where the reader and K top Yuushi. Maybe that's what the next fic I'll write for this fandom be.

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

#lady k and the sick man #lady k and the sick man x reader #totsumoto yuushi x reader #K-san x reader #yuushi totsumoto x reader #Yuushi x K-san x Reader #lady k and the sick man smut #fluff and smut #no y/n #afab reader #gender neutral reader #smut tags are in the warnings section #This is like the second smut I've publically posted?#I don't know what I'll do if this blows up #Like why this one out of all my fics

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tgmsunmontue · 1 month

Text

Once Upon a Time in 1996... 3/?

IceMav TimeLoop. Maverick wakes up to a great day. Then it all turns to shit.

Chapter One Chapter Two

DAY THREE

He wakes up and he rolls over, half expecting to fall directly off the sofa and he opens his eyes immediately.

What the fuck.

“What the fuck?”

He’s back in his bed at Carole and Bradley’s house. His home. Except he knows he went to sleep on Ice’s sofa last night. Knows he didn’t drink a single drop of alcohol to blame the weird nightmare-dream of the previous night on and he remembers seeing the bottle of vodka which had sort of confirmed that maybe he hadn’t dreamt the previous day.

Except.

This type of stuff doesn’t happen. He remembers there being a film like this a couple of years ago, what was it called, god, he’s going to have to find it and remind himself what the hell happened in it.

Oh fuck.

Ice.

Tom.

He’s gay and in love with him.

That’s a lot to take in.

Carole is sick. Dying.

That is also a lot to take in, but he sort of feels like he’s a day ahead of dealing with that already. He remembers waking up… yesterday? Was it still yesterday? How can he keep track of previous days if they are all yesterdays? He remembers waking up on Day Zero and thinking it was a perfect day. Now he’s got his two best friends in crisis and no way in which to fix either of them. He can’t fix either of them. Not that Ice needs fixing, but Carole needs healing, and he’s not a doctor. He’s going to have to somehow accept he can’t change anything.

Fuck.

All he wants to do is run away.

Instead he goes through the morning motions, on autopilot as Bradley runs out of the house and Carole leaves for appointment. He needs… well, he doesn’t know what he needs exactly, but he needs to think. He has time. Infinite maybe. He cuts the grass, his mind ticking over the potential things he can say and do. He can’t change what is happening to them, but he can change how he responds. Thinks about where Carole is, probably receiving the news and he wonders if he should be with her. Maybe he can try that if he gets another tomorrow.

He tips all the bottles of alcohol down the sink and throws the bottles in the trash. He can make Carole a coffee or something. Stay with her. Until he needs to go and see Ice. Should he talk to Ice? He should maybe figure the fuck out what he’s feeling himself before he faces that gauntlet again.

He sucks in a sharp breath.

Oh god, what is he going to say to Ice? What is Ice going to say to him? He remembers the first day, when he’d turned up later, or on time, and there hadn’t been anything, no hint, so if he doesn’t turn up early then Ice isn’t going to tell him. But he wants his best friend to feel like he can tell him. He also needs to figure out what the best way to respond is, because yesterday had not gone well. He doesn’t want Ice avoiding him. Doesn’t want to avoid Ice.

Carole pulls into the drive and he doesn’t wait for her to just sit there, almost runs out of the house immediately and opens the car door and pulls her out into a hug.

“Maverick? Everything okay?”

She’s not even crying.

What.

The.

Fuck.

“Uh… I missed you?” Fuck. Has he got it all wrong? She gives him a smile though and it immediately turns watery, but it’s still a smile and she’s laughing at him being a little silly and he feels relieved suddenly, he’s doing something good. Something right.

“I missed you too you idiot. Got some… not great news.”

That a fucking understatement of the year.

“Can I make you a cup of coffee?”

“That would be nice. Thanks.”

They sit and drink coffee, curled up on the sofa facing each other and she does break down and cry he just reaches out and holds her, lets her cry through it. Doesn’t say anything or ask anything, just tries to be there, and it seems to help, even if it is fucking hard to keep his mouth shut. He doesn’t offer to go and pick up Bradley, doesn’t even mention him, just sits with her until his stomach rumbles and it makes her laugh through her tears again. They shuffle around the kitchen together and make food, and he tries to act normally. This is all new at least, so it doesn’t feel like he’s experiencing déjà vu for the third day in a row. Carole turns on the radio and sings along and it’s such a sharp contrast to her attitude the last couple of days he wonders if she too is maybe experiencing the same thing.

“You ever experience déjà vu?” He asks and she scrunches her face at him, the same way she always does when she thinks he’s being funny.

“Sometimes. What made you think of that?”

“Oh, just… feeling a little of it today. Wondered if it was just me.”

“Pretty sure it’s not a collective thing. You’re in a weird mood today.”

Yeah, he guesses he is.

“I’m just going to ring Ice.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m going to tell him I can’t make dinner.”

Okay, he hadn’t really decided that until he just said it out loud, so maybe he’s not ready to face that gauntlet quite yet. Fuck.

“Maverick, don’t let me stop you from seeing him. He just got back.”

“And another day won’t matter,” he says, not sure how he can explain he saw him yesterday, and the day before as well. And also he doesn’t know how to feel about seeing him again today. Carole makes a weird humming noise and he turns, about to ask her what she means by that.

“Invite him here. It would be nice to see him too.”

“Uh… yeah. Okay. Sure.”

He has no reason to say no, he’s friends with Carole as well. He picks up the phone and dials the number Ice gave him for his base accommodation, waits for him to pick up as he trails across the room, the coiled spring of the phone following him. He doesn’t need to wait long, maybe six rings and then Ice’s clear strong voice comes through the line.

“Tom Kazansky.”

“Hey Ice, how are you?”

“Maverick… Hi,” Ice says, and his voice is cautious and Pete doesn’t blame him. They’re not really friends who have ever been the type to talk on the phone. Letter writing has happened occasionally, postcards sometimes. “Why are you calling me? We’re meant to be seeing each other in a few hours…”

“Uh yeah, about that. Just wondering if we can postpone dinner?”

“What? Why? Tell me what’s happened.”

“Uh, well,” he looks across the kitchen to where Carole is now washing the dishes, still singing to the music on the radio and he lowers his voice and angles his body away. “Carole’s got cancer. Bad. Don’t really want to leave her. We’re actually going to have a movie night,” he says, adlibbing his way through the lies, although now that he’s saying it he’s going to make it happen. Remembers that he wants to find out the name of that movie and then watch it. Once he finds it. But he also needs to gather information, wants to see Ice again with the knowledge he has now. He turns back toward the kitchen and Carole is now looking at him, mouthing words at him and he doesn’t need the ability to lip read to know she’s telling him to ask Ice to dinner.

“Actually, you want to come around here for dinner and join us instead? I know it’s not what we planned but I kind of want to be here with them tonight.”

“Yeah. Of course. What can I bring?”

“Just yourself.”

“I think I can manage that,” Ice says, and his voice is dry and Pete snorts, because Ice has never turned up empty handed anywhere he goes, which is something he could probably try and emulate more. They agree on six for dinner and he hangs up, turns back to Carole and wonders if he should ask her for advice. Would that just cause her more worry or distract her. Maybe she wants distracting? Fucked if he knows.

They end up back on the sofa and she talks, clearly calmer than she has been the previous two days, talking to him about the diagnosis and lifespan estimation. Not long. Never long enough when it’s measured in months. He can only listen with half of his brain, what she’s telling him is what he’d heard the first day, but it had been through wracking sobs and tears. He still can’t figure out why today is different, needs to figure it out so he can make sure he can repeat it tomorrow if he needs to.

“Will you let me adopt Bradley?”

“What?”

“Can I adopt Bradley?”

“You want to do that?”

“Of course. Jesus Carole, I can’t imagine loving him any more than if he were my actual kid.”

He doesn’t know what he’s said exactly but she’s crying again, but this time there’s a tremulous smile on her face and he feels like this is also something right, something good that he can do. Then Bradley gets home, bursting through the door and Carole reaches an arm out to him, her smile wavering and Bradley can definitely tell something is wrong. He’s a smart kid.

“How would you feel about Maverick adopting you?”

“Uh… are you guys getting married?”

“No!” They both answer in unison and then laugh, although it would probably be easier.

“Um. Sure. It’s cool I guess. Why are you crying?”

Smart kid, Pete thinks, and he wonders what Carole is going to do, going to say, when faced with Bradley asking outright like this.

“Just sad about life this afternoon…”

“Oh. Okay.”

He sucks in a quiet breath, clenches his jaw, because she’s still not telling him. Okay. It’s okay. This is still better than the first day, although anything is better than that horrific day.

“We were thinking of having a movie night. You want to come to the Blockbuster with me?” Pete asks and Bradley’s nodding, his school bag dropping to the ground and Carole tuts under her breath.

“Come on, I need to go to the grocery store, seeing as I’m now cooking for four people…”

“You told me to invite him!” Pete protests, knowing she’s giving him a gentle jab about Ice and him now being there for dinner. Although he prefers it over the alternative, even if he’s curious as to what the table would look like if he turned up even earlier. Another task for another tomorrow maybe. They all get in Carole’s car and she drives, humming along to the radio. She drops them off, saying she’ll be back shortly, saying she only needs a few things and they’ll likely take much longer picking a movie. She doesn’t know he has one movie in mind already and that it's Bradley that will take an age to decide on something. He walks into the Blockbuster, Bradley on his heels and he goes up to the bored looking teenager behind the counter.

“Hi, I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Sure.”

“Uh. I’m looking for a movie, about this, uh, person, a man I think, who is caught reliving the same day over and over?”

“What, like Groundhog Day?”

“What?”

“You mean the movie Groundhog Day?”

“Is that it? Is that the movie I’m thinking about?”

“I dunno man, you just described the plot though. He wakes up every morning and it’s Groundhog Day. It’s a romantic comedy. Just over there,” he says, pointing and Pete thanks him, heads over and finds it almost immediately. There’re about ten copies, clearly a popular film and he picks up the case and goes to find Bradley.

Of course he’s looking at the new releases, a film Pete knows he’s not allowed to see clasped in his hands.

“No.”

“But!”

“Bradley, that’s an R-rated film. Your mom will kill me. How about this one?” Pete suggests, because space films are always pretty cool, and a nice middle ground they’ve realized that they both generally like.

“Fine, but I do want to see this…”

“Sure, you can see it when you’re old enough to get it out without my help…”

“Ugh, fine…”

Pete puts Se7en back on the shelf and taps the Apollo 13 against the Groundhog Day case, which is definitely not his normal choice for a movie, but it feels like necessary research. He needs some type of guidance or direction and he’s pretty sure talking about it with anyone else is going to get him called crazy. He sure as hell doesn’t need that. Maybe he is?

Huh.

That’s actually a possibility he hadn’t considered.

Surely if he were actually loosing it he wouldn’t be sane enough to think that he might be loosing it?

He sighs, slides his membership card and cash across the counter and accepts the videos back, passing them to Bradley who is now busy reading the back of Groundhog Day and pulling a face.

“This sounds boring…”

“Well, I thought it might cheer up your mom.”

“Okay.”

He clearly agrees that his mom needs cheering up because he doesn’t even roll his eyes; Pete wonders if he should ask if he’s really okay if Pete adopts him, while they wait for Carole to come and pick them up. They can probably work things out without that if they have to. Of course he doesn’t have time, Carole honking the horn and waving as she drives toward them.

They get back to the house and he helps Carole carry the few things inside, Bradley instructed to put away his things before coming to help prepare dinner. She making a pasta dish with lots of vegetables and he laughs at Bradley’s disgruntled expression, tells him he has to eat them otherwise he won’t grow tall. Of course Bradley retaliates by saying that explains why Pete is so short and he grabs him in a headlock and gives him a noogie, Carole laughing and rolling her eyes, telling them to behave and it all feels shockingly normal. Good.

A knock at the door, it opening and Ice calling out has him jolting a little, part of him having forgotten that Ice was coming.

“Hello! I’m here!”

“Hi…”

He hasn’t allowed himself time to think too deeply about what Ice told him yesterday, can’t tell that it’s even a thing right now, everything seems perfectly normal, just like usual. Ice is handing Carole a bunch of flowers and some chocolate, giving her a kiss on the cheek and smiling at her and he feels a little spark of something, unidentifiable and irritating. He ignores it and gives Ice a grin, tries his best to pretend everything is normal. Then he catches the tight little smile Carole gives Ice and he wonders if she maybe knows. Oh god. Was he completely blind? He shakes himself mentally, reminds himself his best friends are in front of him, one with a terminal cancer diagnosis and the other, apparently, maybe, in love with him.

Perfectly normal day.

Sure.

They eat dinner and he’s glad for Bradley, so glad as he keeps up chatter about school, what he’s wanting to do in the weekend, asking questions of Ice about his deployment. They don’t talk about Carole’s diagnosis. Can’t with the fact that Bradley doesn’t know. Dinner ends and they wash up, used to working together. Carole makes Bradley go and shower and change into his pajamas, ignores his protests about it being too early but she stands firm and Pete realizes he’s going to have to be a parent soon. He’s going to have to be the person that tells Bradley no. God he doesn’t want to be that person.

They move into the TV room, Bradley waving the video in one hand and insisting in setting it up. Normally he and Ice sit at opposite ends of the sofa, Bradley sprawled between them, but he swallows, instead takes the middle himself, gives Ice a shrug and just murmurs about mixing it up a bit when he asks a silent question with a single eyebrow. They watch Apollo 13, Tom Hanks making a convincing astronaut and he finds it pretty compelling knowing it’s based on a true story. Despite his attention being focused on the movie he can feel the warmth of Ice’s body near him; they’re not even touching and yet he’s so conscious of the space between them.

He reaches out slowly, so slowly that every second feels like minutes, stretching time out like hot toffee. He brushes his fingers over the back of Ice’s hand and Ice twitches suddenly, hand jerking away and Ice is staring at him, eyes wide, face illuminated by the light coming from the TV and he turns his hand over, leaving it palm facing up in an invitation for… well. To hold hands he guesses, even if they’ve never done anything before he wants to know if this is something that he could maybe have.

Of course, these actions without any words first probably weren’t the smartest move because Ice is looking confused, almost the same spooked expression he’d had yesterday when Pete had turned up early and he nods his head slowly but leaves his hand where it is, doesn’t want to retract the open invitation he’s made. Is still curious, even if Ice is looking at him as if he’s lost his mind.

Everyone makes it back to Earth, the movie ends and Carole is sending Bradley to bed, ignoring his pleas to watch the second movie while offering to make coffee. Ice stands, his head already shaking a polite decline, mumbling about heading home early and Pete doesn’t groan out loud but he really wants to. He stands as well, says he’ll see Ice out while Carole ensures Bradley actually goes to bed. He follows Ice to the front door, can’t help but notice his stiff posture and he wishes he could make things… okay. Better. Good.

Fuck.

He doesn’t know.

He steps in, putting himself very firmly in Ice’s personal space and reaches for his hand, squeezes it, runs a thumb across his knuckles and swallows nervously.

“What are you doing Maverick?” Ice asks, his voice rough.

“I don’t know…” Pete replies honestly, looking up to meet his eyes. They search his face, looking for answers he doesn’t have, then Ice is making a broken sound, a whispered god and then Ice is kissing him, his lips softer than he expects, careful almost, like he’s afraid Pete will dissolve like sugar in water. His entire body prickles, like it’s suddenly and immediately on high alert, definitely wants more and he sways into Ice’s space further but he’s stepping back, his expression serious.

“We’ll talk tomorrow. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Tomorrow…” he agrees and god he hopes he gets a different tomorrow.

He watches Ice drive away and then goes back and sits on the sofa, Carole joining him and he presses play, watches as Bill Murray navigates living the same day over and over and feels a sinking sense of dread.

CHAPTER FOUR

#icemav #Once Upon a Time in 1996...#pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #Top Gun fanfiction

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