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atrwriting · 5 months

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trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader

hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was

informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know

as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash

anyway.... here's trust me:

when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.

a lot of it.

and an old building.

the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.

the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.

within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.

until one day. that day.

you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.

mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?

that was dangerous. too dangerous.

even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.

on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?

you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.

when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.

you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.

“ma’am?”

you turned around.

a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.

but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.

you smiled. “another drink, sir?”

“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”

you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”

he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”

you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”

“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”

you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”

he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”

“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”

“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”

“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”

“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”

you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.

“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.

and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.

the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.

billy, on the other hand… did not agree.

one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.

“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”

“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”

you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”

“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.

you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”

the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.

as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.

“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”

“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”

“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”

“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”

“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”

“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”

you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.

the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.

you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.

“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”

you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.

“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”

“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”

you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”

“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”

“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.

through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”

“pay. the. tab.”

he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.

“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”

that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.

“time for you to leave, friend.”

the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”

“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.

the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.

you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.

but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”

you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”

“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”

“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”

“‘s my job.”

“i know… but still,” you spoke.

you were continuing to close before he spoke again.

“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.

“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”

“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”

you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”

“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“

“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”

from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.

he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.

you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.

but he kept that to himself.

however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.

“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.

you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”

to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.

but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.

“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”

“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.

there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”

“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”

you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.

“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.

if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...

that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.

the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.

“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.

billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.

“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”

a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.

“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”

there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.

you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.

it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.

“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”

jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.

“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”

you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”

he tipped his hat to you.

“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”

without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.

you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“

“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”

a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”

“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.

you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.

“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.

“knocked,” he bit.

you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”

“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”

you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”

“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”

you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”

you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.

he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.

you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.

no. you couldn't.

you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.

“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”

“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”

“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”

“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.

“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.

billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.

“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”

“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”

“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.

he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”

you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”

he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.

he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.

“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.

“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.

“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.

“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.

you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.

you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.

“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.

you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.

“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”

“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”

“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“

“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”

that shut you right up.

billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.

…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.

“what — what —“ you stammered.

“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”

you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.

“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.

his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.

“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”

billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.

“look at me, sweetheart.”

your eyes glanced back up to him.

like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.

“y’trust me?” he asked.

you hummed in agreement, nodding.

“say it.”

you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”

instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.

that was when his fingers picked up speed.

and, god… did it feel damn good.

“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”

“still trust me?”

“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”

he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.

“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”

you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.

“something — feels —“

“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.

“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“

“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”

and that was it.

the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.

a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.

“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.

“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”

it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”

“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”

“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”

his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”

“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”

he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.

“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”

“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”

you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.

“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”

you nodded, half ignoring him.

but it didn’t hurt.

the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.

“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“

“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”

“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.

you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.

billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.

that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.

“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”

“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.

“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”

you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”

his hips snapped against you. hard.

maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.

“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”

his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.

“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“

“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”

“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.

billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”

you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.

“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”

you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.

his touch. only his touch.

“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”

the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.

“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“

“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”

he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.

with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.

his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.

he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.

“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“

he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.

“billy — you didn’t —“

“s’alright, darlin’—“

“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”

“that... thing?”

“with my mouth.”

he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”

he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.

“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”

his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?

“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.

he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.

you tried to hide your smirk from him.

he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.

"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.

he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."

you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.

you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.

"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.

you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"

you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.

that shut him up.

a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.

you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.

but you did anyway.

you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.

"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."

you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.

you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.

from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.

tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.

you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.

both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.

above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?

he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.

"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"

"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.

the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.

"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."

you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.

"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."

you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.

"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"

he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.

"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."

you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."

"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."

you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.

"on one condition," you spoke.

his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.

"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."

"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."

---

what did we think?? xox

-L

#billy the kid #William h bonney #william h bonney x reader #kid antrim #billy the kid x reader #william bonney #William bonney smut #billy the kid smut #billy the kid 2022 #tom blyth

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lostdreamr-blog1 · 6 months

Text

Pinky Promise

Pinky Promise 2

Part 3

Summary: Jake gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride home. But it’s who is asking that makes him worried.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Another request knocked out! Currently working on part 2 of Beautiful Stranger and might have plans for continuing this one depending on if you all like it. Thank you so much for reading! -C

You were a little on the tipsy side as you squinted at your phone trying to make out the numbers on it. With them moving as much as they were, it was near impossible to type in a correct phone number. Instead, you opened your contacts and scrolled down to your brother’s name.

The smart thing to do would be to call him for a ride, but the more drunk side of you could only think about the nagging you would get on the way home and probably the month following. So, you scrolled up and down your contacts deciding on who would be the lucky winner to receive a call at 1 in the morning.

Jake groaned as he heard his phone going off. He blindly reached for it and squinted at the bright screen, trying to decipher who the hell would be calling at this hour. He had to be up in a few hours to get ready for another day of trying to get through the near impossible assignment, so unless it was an emergency, he was ignoring it.

The number that flashed on his screen wasn’t one he had seen before. He almost wrote it off as a wrong number or another spam call, but something told him to answer it. The area code was one he knew and a call this late on a Saturday might mean something is going on. So, instead of rolling over and enjoying the few hours of sleep he had left, he answered the mystery number.

“Seresin.”

“Oh shit! That’s the Jake that’s in this phone? Why would he put that number in here?” The voice was female and sounded somewhat familiar but was clearly drunk.

“Sorry to disappoint. Who is this?” Jake was kicking himself for answering it now, having the person insult him within two seconds of talking.

“Ah. Look, you have to promise not to tell my brother anything. Like pinkly swear and everything.” Jake was too tired to entertain childish requests, but the first part of the statement finally sunk in. The only one on the team who had a sister near base was Bradley. Fuck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He needed the confirmation before freaking out. What did she do that warranted keeping her brother in the dark?

“I am not answering that question until you promise me.” He sat up in bed, turning on the lamp next to him. There was no way this wasn’t her.

“Alright. I promise I won’t tell him right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He was hoping she was too drunk to catch how he promised.

“Fine. I’m at this bar with my friend and I played wingman a little too well and she left with this guy. I mean good for her. She just got over this really bad breakup and needed to get laid.” Jake had gotten out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he got dressed. Something told him he was going to have to pick you up from somewhere. That’s if you managed to stop getting sidetracked.

“Anyway, I have this thing about not liking to get in Ubers by myself and it’s a long ass walk back to my apartment.” Jake had grabbed his keys at this point and was walking out the door.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.” He turned on his truck and waited for a response.

“Shoot. Well, we started at one place and now this is place three. No place four. You know what, let me ask because I have no idea.” Jake sighed and shook his head. He had heard stories from Bradley about his younger sister and how reckless you were. Or at least that’s the way he described you. He always kept you on a tight leash, trying his hardest to keep you out of trouble.

But Jake thought you just wanted to have some fun. One of his sisters went through a phase like this and it was best to keep a close eye on them but never push them. For reasons like this.

You told him the name of the bar and he was on his way. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Are you okay to wait inside for me?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I need to finish this water anyway.” Jake told you to call if something came up but he shouldn’t be long.

It wasn’t but 5 minutes later his phone started ringing again. He saved your number as Baby Bradshaw, knowing that this probably wouldn’t be the last time you called him.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Are you close?” As casual as you tried to sound, Jake could hear a slight bit of urgency.

“Five minutes away. Everything alright?” The hesitation that followed his question told him everything he needed to know. But he waited for your response before he pushed the issue further.

“Umm, it’s probably nothing. Just this guy by the bar keeps giving me this look and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I’m also drunk and a tiny bit paranoid.” Jake pushed the accelerator down a bit further, breaking a few laws in order to get to you faster. He wasn't going to be blamed for getting the youngest Bradshaw in trouble.

“I’ve always been told to listen to your gut.” He heard the hum on the other end of the line as he blew through a red light.

“My gut is telling me they want tacos.” Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out.

“We can get you tacos on the way home, sweetheart. Now do me a favor and stand where a lot of people can see you. People like security or a bouncer. Can you do that for me?” He heard you hum again.

“Slight problem. He is following me now.” Jake’s heart started to beat faster and knew he needed to get there now.

“Shit. What did Bradley say. Thumb out, use your knuckles.” He shook his head trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. But it clicked a second too late.

“No don’t-“ He heard commotion on the other line and parked his truck right outside the bar. Flying out the door, he nearly ran into you as you were standing by the entrance with a bouncer blocking a guy with blood running from his nose from getting close to you.

Jake grabbed you before you could get around the bouncer and pulled you outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, you creep!” You were yelling at the guy all the way outside, letting him know you weren’t to be messed with. He wanted to go back in there and show the guy what happens when you mess with innocent people, but he knew leaving your side wouldn’t be for the best.

When the two of you were next to his truck, Jake let go and looked you over. Your face had a red tint to it from what he assumed had just happened, but besides that you looked to be in one piece. That was until he saw your eyes start to water.

He put a hand under your chin and lifted your head up. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You sniffed a few times and wiped the tear that managed to escape. “Bradley didn’t say how much it hurts to hit someone.”

Jake bit back a smile and looked down at your hand. While it was a bit red and would surely bruise tomorrow, it didn’t look too bad.

“He probably didn’t think you would ever have to do that. Why don’t we get you back home and you can tell me what happened.” He watched you nod your head and opened his passenger door for you, closing it when you were in.

He waited a few minutes after you were on the road before asking questions. “Want to tell me why you called me instead of your brother?”

You shook your head at the question. “Have you met my brother? It would be nonstop nagging for God knows how long. Anyone else seemed like the better option.” You paused as you remembered exactly who you were with.

“I will say I didn’t expect him to put your name in my phone. He seems to have a strong dislike for you.” Jake smirked at what you had said and shrugged his shoulders.

“He probably knew I had sisters and would do anything to make sure they were alright. Regardless on who they were related to.” You thought this over and nodded your head. It wasn’t long until the next question came.

“What happened at the bar?” You felt his eyes on you and knew he was more concerned than curious.

“The guy I told you was giving me weird looks ended up following me to the door. He stopped me and tried to grab my hand and even though I pulled it away, he kept coming at me. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I needed to do something to stop him.” You missed the way Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel or the clench in his jaw.

“He was lucky I was 30 seconds behind, or he would’ve gotten more than a broken nose.” You looked over and saw how serious he was. A look your brother wore all too often.

“How long until you tell bird boy what happened?” Jakes eyes caught yours and you saw the conflict in them.

“If I was him, I would want to know something happened to my sister. But I will at least drop you off before I call him. Keep your phone on silent and say you fell asleep. That way you can push it off until he gets off tomorrow.” He heard your sigh but that was the end of that.

It was silent in the car until he heard you say, “I’m not as stupid as my brother makes me out to be.” Stupid was never a word he would have used to describe you. A little carefree maybe, but you knew what you were doing.

“I see someone who wants to have a little fun in their life while they can. Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced over to you to see you playing with your injured hand.

“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be either. Besides my brother, not many people would come and get me when they have to be up soon.” Jake held back a wince when he saw the time. A coffee run in the morning would be needed. Maybe he could talk Natasha into picking him up some from that place she always went to.

He pulled into your apartment complex and parked as close to your building as he could.

“Hey, sweetheart. You can call me anytime you need help, okay? I know your brother and I are not on great terms, but I know he would help me out when family is involved.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him for the ride.

He waited until you closed the door before he backed out of the parking lot, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Bradley. It was nearing 2am and calling him was oit of the question. So, he sent a simple text.

Hey man. Your sister called a random number in her contacts tonight and didn’t realize it was me. She needed a safe ride home and that exactly what I did. We can talk about it more at base, but wanted to let you know she is safe. -Hangman

He went to put his phone down when a text popped up. He prayed Bradley wasn’t awake, wanting to push the rest of that conversation off. But instead, it was baby Bradshaw with the text You never got me tacos.

Jake laughed out loud replying that he owes you some in the near future. With a spitfire attitude that you had, Jake saw the two of you becoming good friends. That’s if Bradley didn’t lock you up after tonight’s events.

A/N: Not too sure how I felt about this one but thinking about doing a Jake and Y/N friend series. Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #topgun maverick #top gun maverick #chelsea writes #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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sickuma · 10 months

Text

SILLAGE — a Simon Riley fic. 2/2

❱ again this was an au first written on tiktok! this will be the last part of it, please keep in mind that it is all fiction and that if you're going through the same thing and are having the same thoughts, please seek someone you trust. Please fight for yourselves, you're worth it ꜝ？ Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.

paring is Ghost x Reader this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !

Part 1 (^_^;)

SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.

—hey [name]? I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just really—

There was a short pause, as the voicemail erupts a slight static sound.

—I love you. That should have been enough reason. No, you were enough. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was cowardly, I figured that you'll be happier and safer, being with someone who isn't me. Someone who isn't a soldier.

It was the same night he left your apartment. He swore to himself he would not come crawling back. To protect both of you, at the time, it had been the best solution for him. Until the midnight strikes, he remembered just how serious you looked, just how accepting you looked.

Too accepting.

—because who knows when one of these missions would finally take me out. I can't let you suffer through that, I can't be the one to give you that kind of grief. So I thought leaving you was the best option.

There was a dire pause as he thought of the best words possible to express himself. He’s never been one to do such, but for you, he’s willing to be better.

—it wasn't.

He spoke desperately, almost shaking from just how much adrenaline rushed through him. He had just argued with the team, and after a long hour of explaining to them what he needed to do, he was finally permitted to bail out on this mission, it’s not like he wouldn't leave without permission, that's how urgent this is for him, he needed to get to you as soon as possible,

Even he doesn't know why he’s in a rush,

Maybe it's because of your silence, the unanswered calls, and unread messages that brought him on edge.

—I love you, far too much, my love, to even think straight without you. I love you so much it's hard to breathe. I so desperately love you to the point it hurts.

The desperation and sincerity. It was all there. He knew if he couldn't let it out now, he won't let it out ever. This was his only chance of being happy.

You were his only chance for happiness. He almost couldn't believe he thought letting you go because of his fear was the best decision.

He stupidly let you go, succumbing to the fear of dying while you wait for him. He knows better, he will do better,

For you. Because you're worth changing for, you're worth the risk.

—please don't hate me. I know I was an ass for leaving in the first place, baby, I am sorry. You loved me so much that it felt so good, I didn't know I'm capable of feeling that way, so I was scared that worse would come after. I'm not scared anymore. You looked at me like there's something in me worth looking at,

He felt like he was saying so much yet so little at the same time,

He had so much to tell you but very few words to express it. He needs to be with you. He needs to see you and physically explain to you just how much you mean to him.

—I won't waste it, love, not again. Please open the door for me when I get back.

He frowned, realizing once again just how idiotic he was. He knew he should not have done what he did, but it was over with. The only thing left to do is to make things right somehow.

—I've never been taught how to love, I have.. I don't— I'm not the best at it. I'm sorry baby, if I'm not loving you the right way, and for leaving just like that, but I promise I'll be better. you're worth the better of me, you're worth learning love for.

He needed you, and you needed him. That should have been enough reason to risk it.

—when I come back, please let me hold you. Please forgive me for making you feel like an option between my job. It's you. It's always been you. I love you, baby, wait for me. I'll make this right.

As the line cuts, the static sound fills the eerie room of yours. The very same room he had walked out from, the same room where you sat breathing hours ago. There were no other living sounds except for the occasional ticking of the clock.

There were no signs nor sounds of life perceived in the room. The silence was thick. With your lifeless body beside the bed in a fetal position, a bottle of used pills tightly wrapped around your hands. It was light, about three to four pills left inside a newly bought bottle.

It was dead silent as if the universe sympathized with you.

Allowing silence in regards to respect for what has passed, for what has ended.

﹑

“My family’s never been the typical joyous family, I guess that affected me, as a person in general.”

You explain, running your hand through his hair while his head laid on your lap. It’s one of those days where he’d be much affectionate compared to the majority of the time. He requested to hear about your childhood while he rests on you,

For a moment you felt your heart and breath hitch.

“I guess growing up in that kind of household really—really influenced my well-being. It's given me problems and worries I shouldn't have.” You were hesitant to continue, “Fear, I started having fears for a lot of things.”It's as if you caught a glimpse of his mind, taking in the details you've just given him.“Fears like?”

The moment the question reached your ears, he could see your body tense. He understood, and he doesn't plan on pushing it.“You don't have to answer that, my love.” he smiles, “No matter what it is you're scared of, let’s face it together, yeah? You have me. That's enough, I hope.”

Little did he know that fear was yet to come. The fear of leaving soon, the fear of being unable to keep going. How could you ever explain to him that you don't plan to stay long?

﹑

With a ragged breath from exhaustion, he dropped his things once again, the same way he did before he left. Facing your door yet again, panting as a feeling of discomfort plagued him, why exactly? He’s finally here. Why is he so distraught, he wondered.

“[name]?” he knocks,

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice strained, and his state dishevelled. “[name] please—it’s me, please answer.”

The lack of response made him think about just how angry he made you,

“I'm sorry,” he whispers,

“I know I was stupid and irrational. I won't do it again, petal, please open the door.”

To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. What would he do if you never find it in you to let him back into the comfort of your arms? Will he return to the familiar cold he had forgotten when he met you?

“[name] I love you.”

He desperately spoke, yearning for an answer; the smallest sign of acceptance.

It was odd. How quiet it was. Are you that mad? He wonders, but then again, he knew you’re not one to ignore, not even when you’re the angriest you've been. You would never shut him out, not ever. “[name], please, answer, or I'll have to go inside.”

“Baby are you okay?” no response.

Each passing second was like a countdown. He was uneasy and distraught. Afraid even.

The silence felt deafening. He was afraid of what? He had no clue what he was so afraid of, surely you're okay...

Right?

“[name], I'm coming in,” he says sternly, fishing the spare key he oh so gratefully forgot to give back. His heart thumps louder with each action.

The moment he entered, the creak of the door interrupted the silence. He felt like he was intruding on an abandoned space. It felt wrong. He knew something was wrong.

“[name]? I'm back, like—like I always am.” his voice broke, stepping inside, head looking around, hoping to find you and engulf you in his longing arms. “As I told you, I’ll always find my way back… right?”

He kept speaking while he walked, checking and opening every door. Starting from the small kitchen to the bathroom, checking everywhere until there was one room left. He dreaded it, for no reason he was scared and yet he rushed,

He spoke, no—he goes on a tangent,

“I'll take the month off. We’ll do anything you want, anything to make up for this. I promise we can even get a pet, I always say no, right? This time, I'll agree, anything for you, my love just—”

The silence rung,

Apart from the sound of the door opening by his force, there were no sounds made, not from him, not from anything. He simply stood, dumbfounded at what the room unveiled; at that moment, nothing mattered, not even the breath he had held unknowingly.

A ragged chuckle escaped his lips, though it was hollow. As if he was desperate to know that maybe this is all some sick prank. Maybe this was one of your silly games he always put up with, “Baby? What’s this? Why are you on the floor?”

“Jokes over [name] get up—”

When it all came to view, he was silenced. The second he stepped closer, he saw how your body lay lifeless, how you held that bottle, and how his eyes drifted onto the lone tear, which evidently dried along the hours.

How long have you been here?

In this state? How long has it been since you left him?

He couldn't feel. He couldn't grasp his head around the sight before him. He’s well familiar with death. He’s seen it before, and he’s lost comrades before, but nothing comes close to what lay in front of him.

How does one react when their lifeline lies lifeless before their very eyes?

He couldn't approach nor speak. He simply stood with weak knees, tempting to give out. It didn't take him long to crouch, eyes wide open with lips parted slightly. There were no tears, no emotions, the moment numbed him. It didn't feel like reality,

There he crouched, just a few steps away from you. It didn't feel like his heart dropped. It felt almost worse, as if you'd taken it with you. How could this have happened? Did he cause this?

If you had told him a day ago that he would witness the person he loved the most laying on the floor devoid of life, he would have laughed at your face, punching you even. This isn't reality. This isn't a reality he wants to face.

It took every courage in his body to bring himself closer to you, afraid of what more he’d discover. With slow steps, he drew closer, grabbing your hand was the first thing he thought of doing. “Oh god…” his voice broke,

Your body isn't as warm as it used to be,

Not as he remembered. The warmth he loved when he would hold you against him, it’s gone. You're gone.

He had felt countless of stiff lifeless bodies and yet yours hurt the most,

The mere thought of it destroyed him. It hasnt sinked in yet, but he could tell. He could tell his demise is near. The realization will hit him in a short while.

“Baby, im home…” this wasn't him. This was not his voice. Stuttering over the easiest words, strained with pent-up sobs. His chest felt heavy, almost making it difficult to breathe.

Yet with hitched breath, he picked up your limp body and placed you in his arms, crushing your icy body against him. He held you tightly, but his hands cradled your body tenderly. It was as if he’s afraid of hurting you more.

Ghost was forever fearless, always facing whatever challenge was given to him, even his mortal enemy would know that he isnt necessarily the easiest solder to crack, let alone destroy and yet he finds himself sat on the floor holding the lifeless frame of his lover,

Cradling whatever is left of you,

Desperately holding onto what he can possibly hold on to.

The lieutenant everyone looked up on, admired and viewed as an admirable man, sat on the floor with a weighing heart. Holding back the tears that had formed without his knowledge as he held your body,

but right now, he wasn't lieutenant simon ‘ghost’ riley.

At this moment, he was just simon, the simon you loved desperately, the simon who loved you just as insanely.

This person right this moment was your simon,

He wasnt anyone else, he was yours.

As he sat on the hard cold floor, thoughts roaming with his heart screaming, he felt like a mess, but that didn't matter. Words can not describe the regret, remorse, and stupidity he felt,

If i didnt leave,

If i didn't walk out that door,would you still have been alive in my arms?Would i still have to hold you soulless?

He held you closer, bringing you closer to him, as close as possible. He felt nothing but regret, nothing but anger for himself. Why is it that the very grief he tried to protect you from, the same reason he left, the same grief he avoided you to feel, why is it that he’s feeling it now?

His ragged sobs filled the room, and the rest remained still as if everything sympathized for him. As if the world understood the hurt he carried. He sobs, holding onto you as if doing so would bring you back. He knew nothing well, and yet he foolishly cried, hoping you’ll hear him and come back to ease the pain.

Like you always did.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw the letters piled not far from them. Without standing, nor letting go of you, he reached for it. Reading the names addressed on each, until he sees the one for him.

Of all the few letters he saw, his was the only one with tear drops which ruined the ink in front, almost unable to read, he brought it closer, dropping the rest.

Simon,

I felt everything.

Thank you, and im sorry,

I love you :)

Swallowing the impossibly heavy lump on his throat, he opened the carefully folded letter. He was met with even more tear drops. The thought of you crying, alone, while you write him a letter to bid him goodbye, crushed his soul.

He cant imagine a greater pain,

It felt surreal.

How could I..

How could I have lost you this easily.

With his blurry vision, he starts to read—well—attempt to. With every sentence, every punctuation, every meaning of your words, all of it felt like a slap to reality.

How could he have not seen?

How did he not notice? Not paying attention to what you were going through? How could he have been so careless as to leave you all alone.

The very fear you spoke of,

He did just exactly what your family had done.

If anybody could have saved me,

it would have been you.

He read the part over and over again, allowing your words to cut through his heart repeatedly. He left you, and yet, at the end of the day, you still see him as someone—the only one who could save you.

Despite the war inside your mind,

Inside your mind and unwavering emotions, which he hadn't bothered to unveil, he remained the most important person.

May it be in your chaotic mind or the furthest crevices of your heart, he remained on both.

He read it all,

Understanding every single thing you failed to say in person,

Everything you failed to say while you still lived.

It hurts even more. He thought nothing could be more painful when he saw you laying lifeless. But having to read what you wanted to say,

How sorry you were, how thankful you are to him, and how he made you feel.

It was surely another cut to an already existing wound. His mind flashed memories while he went over the tear stained letter you left.

He remembered everything as if they were as fresh as yesterday. When you first smiled at him, when you first held hands, when your lips first touched.

Your words were true. The story of you really is short-lived. But he couldn't help but think about the what If's

If he stayed,

If he hadn't walked out,

If he ignored his fear of abandoning you,

If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly.

He gave up, and the heavy lump on the throat overcame him, letting the sting linger for as long as eternity. He read the last words on the letter, with a loud sob, with repeated pleads.

Repeatedly apologising, repeatedly begging for you to come back so he could fix things so everything could return to normal,

So you could return.

A childish wish. A high-ranking soldier held the lifeless body of his lover all while he begs for them to come back.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, voice too broken to speak normally. "I'm sorry for not noticing."

"I'm sorry you had to be alone."

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats over and over again, holding you against him.

At the back of the letter, he could barely see the words written with how blurry the tears clouded his eyes.

Thank you for making me feel.

The words only crushed him even more, sobbing and crying harder to no avail.

"[name]..." He whispers, holding you close. "Did it hurt? I'm sorry, it must have been so hard."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry for not being here you."

He apologized, wishing he could have been with you. To convince you otherwise, wishing he could have been here to avoid this,

To avoid losing you.

Wishing he could have stayed to keep making you feel.

The thoughts of your words before he left suddenly entered his mind,

"Can I hug you?"

"One last time?"

Now it all makes sense why you looked so serene, why you looked so accepting. Why did you have that small smile on your lips,

You were bidding him goodbye.

That really was the final hug.

The final touch he'd ever get, the final living affection he would get from you.

He holds you now, but it wasn't the same, not even close. Back then, you were smiling and breathing, but now you're no different to an inanimate object. Stiff and cold, this is the person he loved so dearly?

It ached.

And it ached painfully.

The type of ache to never go away, the type of ache he'd keep forever.

The type of ache he'll willingly embrace,

As he held you that night, mourning for what could've been, mourning for someone beyond saving.

This was the ache he'd willingly feel forever,

If it means having you in his mind and heart. He would willingly hurt himself by keeping that ache if it means keeping you in his deceased heart forever.

As the remnant of your memories roamed the room, your presence which now passed, the scent of yours he dearly craved. It left a sillage pain to remember,

You left a sillage worth remembering.

"I'll keep you in my heart,

Even if that damage me,

Even if it kills me.

I'll keep you safe forever."

1K notes · View notes

judessangel · 2 months

Note

hii I love your writing smm

I wanted to ask if you could make one ab jude when the reader wakes him up by like her hands roaming him and it ends up being intimate

if you don't write smut please ignore!!

thank youu

lucid dreaming

‌jude bellingham x f!reader

a/n: thank you my love 🤍🤍i dont have much exams this week, keep sending requests please!!! hope you liked it anon:)

summary: the request 😵‍💫

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

It was a saturday morning, and the sun was already up, illuminating the room through the curtains. jude was still asleep, exhausted from last night's practice. you, on the other hand, we're wide awake, gazing at your sleeping boyfriend with a slight grin on her face.

you knew how important the game was for him, but you couldn't resist the temptation to wake him up.

as quietly as you could, you crawled under the covers and started placing gentle kisses on jude's neck and collarbone, making all the way down to his lower stomach. jude stirred in his sleep, however, you continued her trail of kisses, causing jude to slowly wake up, his eyes fluttering open to see your face so close to his.

"what are you doin-" he asked, looking at the time seeing it was almost 1 pm. he had missed practice that started at 11 am. looking at his girlfriend whose taking his sweatpants off and leaving kisses on his thighs making him slightly hard from the view.

"y-y/n...”

“m’ sorry jude..but i need you so bad right now.”

you're now licking up and down his inner thighs, jude moans softly to the sensation, half hoping it won’t stop but also it does so he can go back to sleep since he was already late for his practice, what was the point? his mind is all scrambled as your hands slowly take off his boxers.

“fuck..” “mm? feels good doesn’t it?” you tease him slightly,

inhaling a deep breath, your fingers meet the edges of his boxers to which you begun to slide down his legs ever so slowly, allowing them to hook at the ends of his ankles.

squirming a bit, you firmly hold his thighs down with each of your hands, head leaning onto his dick to lick a long stripe.

drawing your tounge on the tip of his cock, you’ll occasionally switch from doing that, pushing your head down and sucking on his dick. this leads him to sit up slightly and whimper, grabbing onto your hair on your head from in between his legs.

lifting your head up, you wipe your chin, "sit up whole baby." your demand leads him to oblige to your words, he sits up, back leaning on your headboard. his body tired, yearning for slumber, but he wants to be good for you because you were so generous to give him a quick unfinished blow job.

you slowly get on top of him, teasing slipping just the tip in untill his hands snake around your ass, kneading it to then guide your hips closer to his.

aligning his dick to your entrance, his mouth falls agape as soon as he enters you. “h-holy fuck yes..” jude can’t help but moan, it’s been a while since you guys done it and the sensation feels just as good as it has before.

you shudder with every inch of dick sliding into you, not only is he long but he’s big. it makes you laugh mentally to think someone this cute has such a big dick and knows how to use it. plus weren't you just trying to dominate him..?

“you okay baby?” he asks, placing a kiss on your lips, “mhm,” nodding, he begins to lift you up and down his length.

as you ride him, you can’t help but moan softly. it’s early, and he's tired, but holy shit.. his length hits all places good, the tip of his dick hits a certain spot that sends electricity up your body.

your legs are all achy now, pain surges through your lower body, “m’ so tired jude..” shaking your head to initiate that you can’t move anymore. but instead jude holds your hair tight, fingers entangled with your hair, “nuh uh, no stopping, you wanted this, its what you get yeah? making me late to practice and waking me up."

a sob emits from your body, but you had to admit, you yourself are also close to release. you lean your chest to lay on judes while softly riding him. it’s not until the certain sensation from your clit rubbing on his lower abdomen with the added pleasure from his dick slowly and deeply hitting your g spot that you shake from orgasm.

trying to ride it out, jude can’t help but hold you still while thrusting up into you. you yelp as jude overstimulates you, having just came, you feel his ropes of cum paint your insides.

heavy breathing is all that’s heard from inside your shared bedroom, is he done?

jude gently lifts you off from his body, shuddering as you feel his dick slip out your sensitive cunt, he gets up from the bed to grab tissue. wiping him off to then clean up the cum from between your legs.

discarding the tissue to a nearby garbage, he comes back into bed finding you already laying down so quickly, “hold on doll, just one more thing.” he slips up the panties that were dangling off your ankles right back onto your body.

to your surprise jude softly smacks your ass which leads you to yelp, him chuckling at your reaction. “jude!” “what!?"

laying down you begun peppering him with kisses, he hugs your waist and brings you closer to him. “thank you so much my love, i’ll make sure to make it up to you,” he scoffs, “you better y/n, you just woke me up from my beauty sleep.” he giggles and just kisses you, "im gonn’ go sleep again, g’night hermosa."

you sigh, nodding and kissing his lips for the last time. "night jude.."

you wondered for a bit, how could you be dominant in the beginning and end up begging?.. why? how?

but thats a discussion for another night you guess.

(again, requests are open!! keep sending them in.)

#football #jb5 #jude #jude bellingham #bellingham #la liga #real madrid #soccer #jobe bellingham #england #judessangel #jobe #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader

347 notes · View notes

hitlikehammers · 2 months

Text

to die by your side (is such a heavenly way to die)

rating: t ♥️ cw: angst with a happy ending (which is actually kinda fluffy?), limbo/near-death experiences, post-S4/Upside Down-heavy, falling in love ♥️ tags: falling for each other in the space between life and death, happy ending

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-six: Love is a fire that never goes out (@sidekick-hero)

this is because of 1) this song being too close to the prompt for me to disengage it in my head, and the chorus therefore dictating this plot line, and 2) @hbyrde36 picked it and, again, I am very susceptible to people indicating they like a thing and would enjoy more, so @hbyrde36: I hope you enjoy what this became ♥️

“Oh fuck, not you, too.”

Steve looks up—when did he sit down, he doesn’t remember sitting down, he doesn’t remember how even got here, and hey, actually, where is here—

“What?” Steve looks toward the voice; familiar. See the wreath of curls around a pale face.

“This is death, right?” Eddie’s crossing over to him, crouching just beside; “I’m dead, like, I am very sure I’m dead, but you’re here, so—“

“I don’t,” Steve breathes in sharp—tries to get his bearings, tries to see but it’s just black in every direction, his lungs feel like they’re halved in size all of sudden, everything feels tight and painful and hard like inhaling isn’t something guaranteed, and his heartbeat feels like it’s dragging the carcass of something with it when it pumps, laborious and—

He’s is breathing, though, even if it’s kinda half-assed; he’s got a heartbeat, even if it feels like it’s about to fucking give out.

That doesn’t…that doesn’t sound like death.

“I,” Steve licks his lips; his mouth is so fucking dry but swelling kinda hurts and…he’s not as fucked up as he has a feeling he should be, he needs to think harder than he’s ready for just now to figure out what the last thing that happened between where he was, and where he is but: he thinks he should be more fucked up on, like, an instinctual level that knows he should be pretty fucked up, basically, and he’s not.

But again: he still hurts, and that…also doesn’t sound like death.

He swallows anyway; not that it helps.

“Max said there was this, black void,” Steve works through the first thing that comes to mind slowly, processes as he speaks; “with water,” and he looks down and sees the ripples in what he’s sitting in, moving around him but…but the reflections are right, and there’s no light so how are there even wrong reflections; he wasn’t good in his science classes but he feels pretty sure you need light to see anything in a mirror, plus—

“Water,” he flicks his hand from the standing pool around him up at Eddie without warning: “that wasn’t wet.”

Eddie splutters, but it dies down quick: it’s supposed to be wet. He expects it to be.

But it’s not. His eyes go so fucking big.

“It’s attached to the Upside Down,” Steve pushes on; “Eleven can like, come here, but,” he shakes his head and Eddie grimaces: she lost her powers.

“So it’s almost-death,” Eddie surmises, and drops into the not-water next to Steve.

“I guess so,” Steve shrugs, and draws his legs up; hugs his knees.

“Fucking great,” Eddie huffs, sneers, and it’s…Steve not sure why exactly, but it feels…targeted. Directed at him, because one, yes: he isthe only other thing here—as far as he can tell—but the words Eddie’d no-greeted him with float back into his consciousness:

Not you.

“Sorry to rain on your parade, man,” Steve bites out and shoves his head down between his thighs, maybe to breathe, maybe to think, maybe to hide, maybe to fucking cry, maybe to…fuck, he doesn’t even know.

He thinks he’s in the middle of trying to split the difference of every possible thing when Eddie’s voice breaks the still in the dark: “I didn’t,” and honestly, Steve’s never heard that voice sound so soft, so small; “that’s not what I meant,” and it’s an apology even if they words don’t add up exact, Steve feels it clear like a blow to the solar plexus. He turns to Eddie, who’s staring out at the nothing.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Eddie whispers, and his lip trembles, Steve can see that despite the lack of light.

Steve can see tears on that face, too, despite the lack of any light.

“But I hate that you’re here,” Eddie’s voice catches on kind of a whine, and Steve maybe would startle, when a hand reaches out and covers his; Eddie still does look at him, but he flattens his hand over Steve’s like a squeeze:

“That you’re here, too.”

And, oh. Okay.

Okay.

They’re here, then. Together.

Here.

___________________

It takes a while—he thinks; he thinks it’s a while, but one of the first things that makes itself plain in this godforsaken place is how times means absolutely fucking nothing, so; he think it takes a while to remember the vines.

They were coming back for Robin, and Steve would die before he let her get hurt so: that’s the last thing he remembers.

For Eddie, it’s the bats; Steve grimaces, hates even imagining like…swarms of them. More of their bites.

He’s the one who reaches for Eddie’s hand, this time—he wants to say it’s just a little comfort for the particularly bad things that are coming up as they sit here, as they draw patterns in the not-water and blow against it to make little waves just for shits, mindless and stupid: he wants to say that when it gets too much, and then keeps going, when it’s the worst, they’ve started to reach because what else can they do? Who else can they lean on?

Who’s gonna fucking know?

Actually: no. He doesn’t want to say that.

He wants to say the truth: the truth being they touch a lot. They reach a lot. They reach because it’s quiet. They reach because it’s dark. They reach because they’re frustrated. Or they’re scared. Steve could map Eddie’s calluses blind if he was asked to. Eddie traces his veins without being able to see close enough to know that he’s right.

He wants to say the truth: that he wants to touch. He craves it. And not just from anyone.

He craves this.

He doesn’t know what that fucking means.

But he’s the one who reaches, and covers Eddie’s hand, presses down to keep him when Eddie remembers the bats.

And he’s the one who leans, who rests their shoulders together and holds his breath.

But Eddie is the one who doesn’t move away, who leans in too, he tips his head onto Steve and breathes out slow so Steve can feel the warm damp of it on his skin and…

Steve’s heart’s fucking pounding, but then also it’s kinda like fluttering, and either way:

That’s not death.

___________________

Steve likes that the not-water is…not water, because lying back in it doesn’t fuck up his hair. Which…feels cleaner than it should be he figures maybe that’s just the same as both he and Eddie not being riddled with the wounds they should be rights be covered in—he can run his hands through it and that’s really all he wants, his hands, or like, you know if other hands wanted—

Whatever; he’s not going to question the not-water. He’s happy it doesn’t make him a wet dog just for trying to lay back and pretend there are stars.

Which he’d still be doing, if a weird…flapping noise hadn’t started up over to the left.

He has to squint in the no-light to see what the fuck’s going on, something in Eddie’s hands, oh shit, flapping, is it one of those fucking bats—

“What the fuck?”

Eddie freezes, and turns. And Steve sees what’s in his hands.

Doesn’t change his question.

Eddie just blinks at him. And runs his thumbs over the desk of cards he’s holding, flicking them one by one: flapping.

“Where the hell did those come from?”

Eddie shrugs. “Pocket.”

Steve gapes a little.

“You’ve had them the whole time?” because again, even if the feeling’s shifted: what the fuck

“Lots of pockets, man,” Eddie grins cheekily as he shakes his jacket out, like Steve can see any pockets.

Then he’s walking over to Steve on his knees before dropping cross-legged and shuffling the deck before he taps them out on his thigh and leans in:

“Pick your poison.”

And Steve’s played his share of cards, is actually pretty decent at poker, but, like…

“I don’t,” he bites his lip and stares at the predictable red pattern of the face-down cards;“I don’t want to think,” he finishes, kinda fucking lame, but Eddie’s not deterred, flips a few cards off the top with a thump before balancing the rest on his knee, offering half the cards he’s still holding to Steve with a little wiggle of his eyebrows:

“Go Fish?”

And Steve, he, like—

This is not-death, right, but whatever it is, it’s probably not good, and yet here Steve sits, with five cards in his hand and…Jesus.

He feels his lips stretch and he doesn’t think he’s smiled like this in…

In a while.

___________________

“Three Musketeers,” Steve answers when they’re lounging in the not-water, heads lined up so sometimes Steve feels the tickle of Eddie’s curls.

“The fuck?” Eddie huffs a laugh; the question was just things they’d miss if they never get out of here; like, it’s a little morbid and also a little hopeful all at once.

They’ve been working deeper in the category of food for a bit now, and so it’s candy bars. And Steve does not see what’s controversial about his choice, honestly.

“I love those, shit,” Steve waves his hand in the air, dismissing Eddie’s very wrong opinion, here; “they’re just,” Steve hums, tries to figure out the best way to defend a genuinely fucking excellent snack food:

“They’re simple,” and that sounds like a weak defense but look at where they are, look at their lives, that is fucking high praise. “Not too sweet and like, light and airy and,” Steve tilts his head, imagines the mouthfeel:

“Kinda delicate when you bite into ‘em,” he feels himself grin a little: “like bubbles or something,” because…yeah.

They’re awesome, but then he looks over at Eddie, who’s already turned to look at him, his gaze…something. Weighty but not oppressive. Piercing but not painful.

“Sorry,” Steve feels himself flush and it’s no the first time, or the worst time, but he’s grateful just like he is every time that there’s no fucking light and whatever lets them see at all doesn’t give away a blush; “sorry, that’s—“

“That’s adorable,” Eddie says with something…equally undefinable in his voice as much as his eyes, but this thing makes Steve feel, like, warm and tingly, a little, under his skin, in his chest; “you’re right, they’re…” and Eddie reaches for his hand, which they do a lot, yeah, but not…not so often for good things and this feels…like a good thing.

“They’re really good,” Eddie presses his hand over Steve’s, like a blanket, all encompassing—Steve has broad hands but Eddie’s fingers are longer than he’d ever noticed and he—

Steve likes how they fit.

“Under-appreciated, I think,” Eddie’s voice has lowered, softened, and it kinda feels like he’s saying something that has nothing to do with candy bars at all: “because people aren’t looking close enough to see how amazing it is.”

Yeah, for how Eddie’s staring at him, and for how Steve’s pulse has ramped up all of a sudden: Steve doesn’t really think Eddie’s talking about chocolate at all.

___________________

“You’re really good company.”

Eddie turns and blinks Steve’s way.

“What?”

Steve swallows; he’s not sure what made him say it. Except that it’s true.

“I’d have liked it,” he starts, like, expands on the point rather than revisiting the simple part; “if we could have, y’know,” and he gestures between them; “hung out.”

Eddie tilts his head, and he doesn’t smile exactly, but it kinda feels like his whole face, maybe his whole body, is a smile.

“Well,” he huffs a little laugh, like a disbelieving sound; “we’re hanging out, now.”

And Steve smiles the normal way, which is probably lesser to look at, but he wishes really hard that Eddie could, like, slip under his skin and see how it feels on the inside. “Yeah,” Steve grins at the darkness for a second, chews his lips a little, suddenly kinda…bashful, fuck:

“Yeah we are,” and then he breathes in deep, and makes himself be brave with something he doesn’t wholly understand:

“I like it,” and that’s an understatement.

And then Eddie hums, and covers Steve’s hand as he murmurs:

“Me too, sweetheart.”

And Steve’s heartbeat catches on that word, or more, reaches for that word, that name, greedy and wild and it pounds out that same desperate mantra blood-in-blood-out unwavering:

not-dead, not-dead, not-dead, not—

___________________

Eddie’s smile is so fucking pretty.

He didn’t know what Speed was, like the card game, so they’ve each got a pile balanced on a knee as the flip and they’re pressed up tight at their crossed legs to make a little table from their limbs for the discards and Eddie’s just…

It’s not just his smile.

“My grandpa taught me to play,” Steve comments idly, mostly just for something to say when it looks like they’re stuck and need to flip from the sides.

“It’s chaotic,” Eddie looks up and meets Steve’s eyes, his own fucking glittering when the lack of light should make that impossible but Steve thinks Eddie is kinda impossible so probably it fits.

“I like it,” he proclaims, as he reaches for another card to start the momentum back up, raises an eyebrow at Steve and waits for him to follow suit like he’s the expect, like Steve didn’t fucking just show him this game—

“You would,” Steve snorts and Eddie?

Eddie just beams bigger, and that catches in Steve’s pulse, nudges it to sing something that’s more than just not-dead; that’s more…

That feels more

___________________

It’s the more-feeling that breaks him, in the end.

“You called me big boy.”

Steve doesn’t really have control over his mouth, when it happens. Or else, like, he doesn’t think before the words tumble out, and the lie in the not-water and stare at the absence of the starts in the not-sky.

His heart’s jumped up to his throat, now.

Eddie’s quiet, for a while, even if time doesn’t mean anything here; Eddie’s quiet, and Steve’s heart wants to jump out of his fucking mouth but if it does than it’s got two destinations: it can’t drown in the not-water so that’s fucking useless, and then there’s Eddie, Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s chest and—

“I,” Eddie finally speaks, and his voice is rough, far away;“I, yeah.”

Steve doesn’t know what he was expecting. He wasn’t planning on saying anything so there weren’t any expectations built in.

“You looked at me,” Steve’s whispering, but it wavers, it moves with the force of his blood; “like you…” Steve licks his lips, swallows a whimper because what is he doing, what is he doing—

“Being almost-dead is really going to take the thunder out of your backlash on this, Harrington,” Eddie cuts into his panic and Steve’s head snaps over to look, to try and read Eddie’s expression: scared. Bracing for impact. Like Steve would, like Steve could ever—

“No, no, I,” Steve raises himself up and scoots over to Eddie, grabs his hands and presses them together in his own, never once looks away from Eddie’s eyes as they stretch wide.

“What did you mean?” because Steve’s started this, and Eddie’s anxious for it and…he needs Eddie to understand he’s not upset, he’s confused, his heart’s all swollen for it, he just, he—

“With the, with calling me that, and with leaning in like you did in the woods,” his breath’s shaking on the exhale: “with all the looks,” and he tries to leave it all in his eyes, on his face, open and clear for all that he doesn’t understand, but also for all that he…that he hopes.

Eventually, Eddie sighs, and squeezes his eyes shut tight, almost like a wince.

But he doesn’t pulls his hands away.

“You’re not stupid, Steve.”

Steve shakes his head, even if Eddie can’t see it.

“I’m very stupid.”

And Eddie’s eyes fly open, look wrathful, look offended on…Steve’ behalf, what the fuck?

And yeah, yeah, he’s opening his mouth now to fight him, to fight Steve about Steve and…no. No, that’s not the point.

“I’m stupid,” Steve says again, but quick so he can get it out; “about like,” he tries to find the right words and remembers Robin’s point on it once:

“About, you know, matters of the heart.”

Eddie’s features slacken, and his mouth drops open as he blinks at Steve before he eventually chokes out:

“Heart?”

But Steve can hear it. He can hear the confusion, like his own, but also just like his own:

He thinks he can hear the hope.

“You held that bottle to my throat and all I wanted was for you to lean closer,” he confesses, and it feels amazing, like he can breathe again, or see in color even though there’s so little color, here.

“And slit it?” Eddie croaks, incredulous, still a little slack-jawed and Steve laughs, because he can breathe, and—

“And kiss me, you dick.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, and his eyes somehow get bigger, and his chest’s heaving and Steve wants that not to be for fearing, he wants Eddie to be anything but scared, he wants Eddie to be hoping—

“Stevie,” Eddie barely breathes and…it’s not scared, or else, not like it could be. It’s hesitant. It’s…full, of something Steve thinks might be incredible.

“You call me sweetheart,” Steve leans in, pushes the point, leans more until he’s close enough where he can feel Eddie’s breath on his face; “here. Now.”

Eddie nods immediately, doesn’t try to hide from it.

“Yeah, I do,” he breathes, and watches Steve so careful, unblinking.

“What does it mean,” Steve pushes, angles his lips without even thinking, without making the choice but Eddie?

Eddie makes the choice, and he kisses Steve so fucking sure and sweet and still wild somehow and Steve never wants to not be here. Never wants to not have this mouth under his, never wants to not have Eddie’s hands in his own: he doesn’t wholly understand it, where it comes from or what all it means but…his heart’s fucking dancing, the joy’s almost sore for it’s size and when Steve breathes between them, when they break for half a second to breathe and stare and marvel and Eddie looks like he’s entranced, like he’s overjoyed, and the only other thing here is Steve?

Fuck. Fuck.

If this ends up being death, that’s okay. That’s okay, as long as there’s also this.

___________________

He’s on top of Eddie’s chest, curled so so close, when it starts to feel…different. In his body. Like something pulling him.

The dark is still absolute but it almost feels like they’re on the brink of something, like dawn could come.

Steve fucking hates it.

“I don’t want to die alone,” Eddie whispers against his head, kisses at his hair.

“I don’t want you to die,” Steve grits out, almost violent, because isn’t this how it started, wasn’t that what Eddie meant, that he didn’t want Steve here, too—but Steve won’t accept that.

He cannot fucking accept that.

“I don’t want you to die at all.”

Eddie drags the tip of his nose back and forth against Steve’s hair some more as he breathes, breathes, breathes—

“To die by your side,” Eddie murmurs low; “would be my privilege,” and Steve chokes on a whine, a sob—it’s too much. It’s too much, and he needs this man, he needs him so much, he think he fucking loves hi—

“Maybe it’s not dying,” Steve tries, looks out into the abyss and he can’t see what’s on the way but he feels it; they both feel it: “maybe we’ll,” and he grabs Eddie’s hand and brings it to his lips.

“Maybe we’ll wake up.”

Maybe. Maybe.

“Kiss me,” Eddie exhales and Steve pulls back, slides up Eddie’s chest and hovers over him, makes to claim his lips but then Eddie lifts a palm, pauses Steve as he presses it over his racing heart and blinks at him, makes the tears fall from his lashes:

“Kiss me again when we wake up.”

And Steve will, he will, but.

He’s gonna kiss Eddie now, too. He’s going to kiss Eddie always.

He thinks his heart’s going too fast to beat out words but that, in itself, has to mean something that isn’t…death.

So he pours that conviction, and all the hope he’s got left, into Eddie as he devours him, breathes into him like they can melt together, like if Steve’s air lifts Eddie’s lungs they’ll be one person, one living soul and whatever happens…

Whatever happens will take them both.

___________________

Eddie splutters, clutches his chest; his heart’s racing, it feels like his blood’s on fire because every beat fucking burns, and the tear of his shirt where it’s stuck to his skin—dried blood, fucking hell—all up his side is absolutely disgusting, Jesus fuck—

“Eddie!”

He turns and that, that’s Henderson, and he squints; that’s Henderson running toward him, less than a minute away at that pace and Eddie doesn’t know if he can sit up but he’ll try, he digs his fingers into the mud and makes to lift—

And then something crashes into him, pins him right back down.

Covers his hands. Presses.

And he can’t get a word out, can barely fucking breathe before his lips are covered, before he’s being kissed so fucking desperate and giddy and all these feelings being fed straight into him, his heart leaping up in his throat to steal a taste but it doesn’t need to, it doesn’t need to because he feels…he feels it all everywhere, and he looks up and he shakes, he laughs, he’s gonna fucking cry—

“You woke up,” Eddie whispers, marvels, thinks his whole face is going to split open with, with joy and Steve, Steve is here, and he’s smiling back, and he’s breathing and they’re, it’s—

There’s light here. Steve’s eyes are like molten copper, they flicker, they shine.

“Promised,” Steve murmurs close, his lips moving Eddie’s lips with each syllable and the taste is, is…sweet and soft and light and perfect and Eddie almost doesn’t ask because it feels so right, so unquestionable but also he wants, something fierce and unwavering, and he needs to be sure where the water’s real, and the ripples mean something when you shift the whole fucking world, when you feel this big you know it’ll move the earth breathe your feet, so he has to ask:

“That the only reason?”

He still feels the hope from wherever they were, though; he feels it still, here, and he believes in it more in the light, he thinks, and he looks at Steve, takes him in, sees his chest rising and his pulse at the neck: real. Real, and so beautiful, and so, so—

Steve leans and kisses him hard, almost painful but it’s divine, Eddie will bask in the sting of it for the rest of his fucking life if he’s allowed, and then—

Then Steve pulls back and pins him with his eyes, now, fierce and on fire and they steal Eddie’s breath with feeling, with intent as Steve grabs at his shoulders, pulls them flush together and growls against his ear, like a vow almost:

“Only reason?” Steve huffs, shakes his head. “Not even close,” and he drags his lips over Eddie’s skin, catches Eddie’s hair, weaves into Eddie’s heartbeat:

not-dead, not-dead, not-dead

in-love, in-love, in-love—

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #falling in love #angst with a happy ending #(also oddly fluffy?)#presumed dead #(but obviously NOT)#happy ending #the black void place with the water on the floor is LIMBO #and they maybe kinda fall for each other in the space between life and death because OF COURSE THEY DO #and these boys are maybe kinda stuck there #steddielovemonth #love is a fire that never goes out #stranger things

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luminousbeings-crudematter · 7 months

Note

a prompt: thick-as-thieves (and handsy) mates, johnny and reader.

When aches and pains strike, turn to giving each other remedial massages - far more efficient than a foam roller, and a useful skill to have since there's no room to pack one on a mission anyway.

And somehow, these sessions always conveniently take place in a common area. In front of ghost.

And the sighs and moans and vocal exclamations of relief and thanks? Just being grateful buddies - surely not trying to troll and get a rise out of him (while gaz tries to hold back his laughter).

Or perhaps ghost gets desperate - he's got muscles locked up tight and he’s getting desperate for relief, so finds himself asking for help. Obviously they only too happy to help - and surely if he’s going to need to strip they're more than happy to relocate to personal quarters.

A/N 1: ooooh this was a challenging ask! I do not have the confidence to properly write for Soap yet, but I tried and I hope you like it <3 I don’t know if you wanted this to be so horny, but I feel like, you, Miya, know the vibe of this blog by now, so I like to believe you knew what you were getting into.

A/N 2 (the real A/N): I know you requested this a millennium ago, and I am SO sorry it’s so late but in my defence, I am truly and unconditionally a piece of shit. 18+ only MDNI

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

At least your involvement in all of it starts innocently enough. Johnny’s groans and whines and wincing every time he bends over or stands or sits or breathes tug at your heartstrings—you hate seeing your happy, horny puppy of a friend constantly in pain. So you offer to work his joints for him, work on some of that tension in his back, in his shoulders, offer some sort of comfort.

What you don’t know is that, while his pain is genuine, it’s also a ploy.

Your relationship with Johnny is…strange but it works. You fuck each other on occasion, because you realise the need for a healthy outlet for stress relief (you tell yourself that the orgasms are a bonus!). You leave it at that and you don’t try to search for meaning and deeper feelings where none exist. You do love each other, but you’re friends first and foremost, that’s the rule.

Besides, you know who Soap really wants. Everyone on base knows who Soap really wants, except, it seems, the object of his desire. And by the time you figure out that you’re being used as a tool in the ploy, it’s too late…and you find that you don’t actually mind the means, when you finally figure out Johnny wants as the result. It’s the same thing you’ve wanted for so long, but been too shy to ever say aloud. So you play along.

And so when you give Johnny your “remedial massages”, you don’t question him on why they need to be at the ass-crack of dawn in the gym. The preferred time for the Lieutenant to use the gym, in fact, the only time he does. You don’t question why, somehow, Ghost is always around when you’re twisting and contorting Soap’s muscles to aid him stretching, why the groans that leave Soap sound surprisingly like the ones he makes when he’s inside you, why winding up Ghost seems to have made your sex life with Soap infinitely better.

But you’re in on the joke now. And far be it from you not to appreciate a well thought-out strategic manoeuvre.

And you are succeeding because you do wind Ghost up—that much is clear. You see his body tense, fists clenching at his sides, while he watches the two of you with narrowed eyes. It’s almost Machiavellian, you realise, Johnny’s plan.

If you keep following his cues and try to decipher the real meaning behind the shallow words he says, it almost certainly leads you to exactly where you need to be. Helping him stretch his legs, with your hands dancing over his thighs, his eyes wide and attentive and glossy with his arousal. Rubbing his shoulders with your breasts pressed tight against his back and his low groans in sync with the knots you work in the muscles. It all just works. All with Ghost as your witness.

Until Ghost decides he’s had enough.

Until a series of events that starts with Gaz rolling his eyes at your latest iteration of the melodrama—Soap working on your back for a change, drawing low, breathy moans from you as you relish in the feeling of his warm, hard palms on your lower back—and ends with Ghost watching the two of you in rapt attention.

It’s electrifying, the feeling of Ghost’s eyes on your body. You can almost feel it, the way Simon’s gaze moves between your bodies, his eyes tracing the grace of Johnny’s movement, always belied by the sheer bulk of him, but always present, always drawing attention to nimble fingers and a surprisingly agile frame.

It’s the same series of events that leads you to where you are now. Watching them, with your hand busy in between your legs.

You have strict instructions not to. Your Lieutenant warned you, Johnny made you promise not to touch yourself until they could touch you.

But it’s not your willingness to blindly follow instructions that got you this far.

Besides, your Lieutenant’s too busy getting his dick sucked. And Johnny…well Johnny’s got his mouth too full to protest.

#should this get a part 2???#I feel like this should get a part 2 #ask #request #miyabilicious #simon ghost riley #simon riley x john mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #ghostsoap #ghoap x reader #lumi writes #soap smut #ghost smut

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withleeknow · 2 months

Text

note (1): inspired by this ask. i literally do not know what this is !! i just know that i'm in a bit of a writing slump and i just wanted to post smth, so this is just word vomit lol. yes, i am aware that it is god awful ok bye

note (2): implied dancer!minho but not necessarily idol!minho bc i rarely ever write with them as idols in mind

you're used to late nights at the dance studio.

you often stop by after work and wait for minho to wrap up a session so you could go home together. sometimes, if it's a tougher choreo that he needs more time to really nail down, you'd bring him dinner and observe as he takes the extra hours to really study the movements.

you're sat in your usual corner tonight, watching your boyfriend with mesmerized eyes.

you've been watching him dance for years and yet, you're still blown away every time you see him in his element.

it's a little mind-boggling, a little incomprehensible just how graceful minho is, how he moves like water, how he makes every move look so effortless and poised.

he pauses the music suddenly, stands in the middle of the room for a few seconds to catch his breath, then calls out to you.

"c'mere."

"are you done?"

"no. just come here. wanna show you something."

you go to him out of curiosity. when you're within reach, he turns you to the face the giant mirror. "dance with me."

"what? nuh uh. nope. you know i physically cannot do the things you can."

"this one is easy!" he tries to reason. "it's slower. c'mon, just for a little bit."

of course you're hesitant, even though there's no one else around but the two of you. he's a miracle of movement and you basically have two left feet, zero sense of rhythm and sometimes trip over air.

he pouts a little, presses his lips against your cheek. "i'll show you how."

you bite the inside of your cheek. he takes you into his arms and kisses your face again.

"fifteen minutes tops, yeah?"

minho is cute about it though. he's always cute about it when he wants something.

"ugh, fine. but you can't laugh at me!"

the music starts from the beginning. you watch carefully by his side as he tries to slow down his movements to make it easier for you to follow but jesus it's hard.

"5... 6... 7... 8..."

you look like a cat on cocaine trying to walk like a human.

again, two left feet and absolutely no sense of rhythm at all.

he ends up laughing a little, when you fail to copy the way he skillfully maneuvers his legs and step on your own foot. you wobble for a few seconds trying not to fall on your ass.

"i told you not to laugh!"

"i’m sorry," he apologizes in between giggles. "you're cute. come here."

minho comes stand behind you then, taking your arms and moving them how they're supposed to move, kissing your cheek and the side of your neck whenever you slightly turn your head to follow your movements in the mirror. you blush every time.

it's easier than before, but that's probably just because he's literally operating your limbs like a puppeteer.

"look, you're nailing this."

you roll your eyes. "thanks."

the music dips, the melody flatlines. the song ends. he starts twirling you around a couple of times like you're ballroom dancing, which takes you by surprise a bit, makes you gasp when you finally land against his chest.

he's got his arms around you and a soft smile on his face, even as you look up at him with narrowed eyes, almost a squint.

"that was embarrassing."

"no, it wasn't. you're adorable."

"i was not. i looked like dori on catnip."

"and dori on catnip is adorable."

"that's not the point. when hyunjin misses the beat for half a second, you look like you could murder him on the spot but you call me adorable. check your double standards."

minho just laughs before he ducks down to kiss you sweetly, despite how you try to squirm away from him, complaining that you're starting to get hot even after just 15 minutes of moving around.

"of course i have double standards when it comes to you," he says after breaking the kiss, "you're literally the love of my life."

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 (italicized = can’t tag)

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids imagines #stray kids fic #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know imagines #lee know fluff #blurbs

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whimsyfinny · 2 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: BIG SMUT - fingering, PinV, essentially just a chapter of p*rn

Chapter Word Count: 2997

—-MDNI—-

A/N: basically just a whole chapter of smut. Hope it doesn’t suck ass as it’s 2am an I’ve been trying to proof read for half an hour but fuck knows what I’ve just written. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 pt. 1

Chapter 8 pt. 2

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 9

I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, sleep failing to whisk me away. I tossed and turned for several hours; kicking the covers off in frustration before pulling them up to my chin, then kicking them off again before pulling them back up - repeating this horrid cycle until two in the morning. Thoughts kept racing through my mind and I couldn’t get the image of Dean looking at me with those dark lustful eyes out of my head. The way he watched me move around Sam, witnessing how I caressed his younger brother and made him squirm where he sat. I could only dream of what was going through his mind in that moment - of what I hoped he was thinking. Heat prickled my skin and bubbled in the pit of my stomach as I remembered my daydream from earlier; Dean fucking me into his mattress as he held my hips and sought nothing but his own pleasure. A groan left my lips as I threw my covers off and sat up, rubbing my temples in a weak attempt to dismiss my attraction to the obnoxious man wreaking havoc in my mind. I placed my feet on the cold floor and stood up, deciding a glass of cold water was the best remedy for whatever it was that I was feeling. I rubbed my eyes as I padded towards my bedroom door, tugging on the old T-shirt that barely covered my behind. I grasped the handle and opened the door, jumping in surprise at the sight of Dean leaving his room. A startled noise left my lips as I placed a hand on my chest, not expecting to see him standing there.

“Shit, Dean, you scared the crap out of me.” In response Dean mumbled a half hearted apology, taking a step closer to me.

“What are you doing up? It’s late, you should be in bed.”

“What are you, my dad?” I scoffed, not sure how to feel about the reprimanding. He held his hands up in defence, only bowing his head slightly, not saying anything else. I sighed.

“I just can’t sleep; I’ve been tossing and turning for hours but no luck. I was just on my way to get a glass of water.”

“You didn’t think to put any more clothes on?” He asked, and it looked like he was trying desperately not to look me up and down as his eyes wouldn’t leave mine.

“I’m sorry - how many people do you run into at TWO AM? I wasn’t expecting company,” I tugged more on the bottom of my T-shirt, trying harder to cover up what little dignity I had left in front of Dean Winchester. All of a sudden we were stood in total silence, neither of us knowing what to say as we now avoided eye contact and I played with the hem on my shirt. We stayed like this for a few awkward moments before I opened my mouth to say something right as Dean decided to speak.

“I can’t get you out of my head, (Y/n).”

My eyes snapped up to meet his, and there was an almost pained look about his face that was hard to place in the dim lighting. My mouth opened and closed a few times, not knowing what words to pick. Luckily for me, Dean kept talking.

“That shit you pulled earlier - the way you… danced… for Sam - made me genuinely jealous of my own brother. I mean come on, we’ve already done the deed, why didn’t you pick me?”

“Because how would you have known how good I was if you couldn’t see everything?”

He thought for a second before tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in agreement.

“You’ve got me there.”

“I know what I’m doing, Winchester.”

“You sure do sweetheart,” Dean stepped closer to me, closing the already short distance between us with those forest-green eyes not leaving mine. Our chests were almost touching as his gaze started flicking between my eyes and my lips. I watched as his own lips parted and he chewed on his bottom lip as if deep in thought, his eyes growing darker by the second. My heart started to race and the atmosphere turned thick. What was he thinking about? Why did he have to look at me the way he did - like he wanted to devour me - the intensity of his gaze increasing by the second and making me warm both inside and out. Not another thought ran through my mind when my back thumped against my bedroom door and Deans lips descended on my own - hot and hurried. His large arms circled my waist, rough palms caressing every inch of my back, waist and ass like he was searching for the best place to grip onto - to dig his fingers into my soft skin. I pulled on his hair, bringing his face and body closer to mine, wanting to feel every muscled inch of him press against me.

I released one hand from his hair and reached back, fumbling around the door looking for the handle, soon finding it and twisting. The door swung open and we stumbled in, too wrapped up in every fibre of each other to pay much attention to anything else. Dean kicked the door closed, reluctant to release me from his grasp and his lips still on mine as he hastily backed me towards my bed; my knees hitting the mattress and I tumbled down onto my back, pulling him with me. He gripped me with one strong arm and lifted me further up the bed so I was in a more comfortable position - my head now resting on the pillow and my hair fanning around me. His lips were so soft on mine, his stubble occasionally scratching my chin when his lips parted further and his tongue hesitantly skimmed mine. The action was slow, as if he was testing the waters. I couldn’t stop the moan from leaving my lips at the feeling of him in my mouth and the sheer intimacy of the action, wrapping my arms over his shoulders and surrendering my mouth to him. I subconsciously pulled him closer, my knees parting without a second thought and his hips dipped down, allowing me to feel every well-sculpted muscle in his abdomen and thighs - including the hardness growing in those loose pyjama pants. The ever so familiar sensation of my own arousal began brewing like a storm; twisting in the pit of my stomach with excitement and anticipation. Electric jolts shot through me every time he pressed into my most sensitive area, making my legs twitch involuntarily as breathy gasps escaped me. His mouth quickly left mine and trailed down my throat before he sat up, pulling himself from my grasp. His evergreen eyes, black with desire that pierced into mine with white hot lust held my gaze, and I fought to stop my eyes rolling into the back of my head from the way he looked at me. Without missing a beat he pulled his black T-shirt over his head and threw it to the floor, holding himself above me as I let myself admire him - trailing my gaze over every inch of exposed skin, lingering on his tattoo. I reached up and traced my fingers over it, feeling him shiver and groan at my gentle touch, his head dropping into the crook of my neck. With one hand he reached down, those rough fingers delicately slipping into my underwear and circling that sensitive button, making my legs twitch even more than before. He went around and around, tauntingly avoiding contact with it before a desperate whimper slipped from my lips. He smirked like the Devil himself before he finally indulged me, pressing his fingertips expertly to the tender mound, undoing me in a way that I’ve never been undone before. He leaned down as his ministrations continued, pressing soft kisses to my moaning lips. My head tilted back into my pillow as that recognisable feeling in the pit of my stomach began to twist tighter and tighter, my nails digging into Deans shoulders, leaving behind little crescent moon-shaped indents in his skin. My breathing increased and I was right on the edge of bliss when out of nowhere he stopped, the pleasure disappearing in an instant. However before I even had a chance to complain he’d slid two thick fingers inside me with ease, drawing a gasp from my chest. He pumped in and out a few times, teasingly pressing on the hidden cushion of over-sensitive flesh that was hidden deep inside, making me writhe underneath him. It wasn’t hidden to Dean though, no, he knew EXACTLY what he was looking for. Once again this pleasure was short lived as he pulled his fingers out, leaving me cold and empty on the inside. On the outside however I was red hot as I watched the older Winchester stick his fingers in his mouth, circling his tongue around them as he sucked my essence from his digits, not missing a single drop. My heart flipped when he spoke in a low, husky voice.

“Delicious - just like last time.”

Heat spread like wildfire over my cheeks as I blushed furiously, not knowing how to deal with the sexual expertise of this incredibly objectionable man. He placed his hands on my thighs, my knees almost gripping his hips in anticipation.

“Are you ready princess?” He asked, his voice smooth and frustratingly calm, except for his chest rising and falling rapidly with supposedly eager breaths.

“Yes- Dean please-”

In a single beat he pulled himself out of his pants and slid inside me with ease, stretching me as he made every inch disappear. My eyes rolled and my mouth was agape, a pornstar-grade moan unintentionally leaving my lips and making Dean quiver.

“Fuck- (Y/n) don’t squeeze me like that darlin or I won’t last long…” he breathed out, all calmness from his voice now gone.

“I-I’m not doing anything- I swear,” I almost squeak out as he lowers himself over me again, one hand dropping next to my head to support himself as the other gripped my thigh pulling it around him. It was his turn for his eyes to roll.

“Lord have mercy…” he muttered out under his breath, slowly moving his hips, thrusting in and out, in and out, over and over and over again. He was ever so gentle at first, but that soon changed when his own pleasure was there to be chased and gentle thrusting turned to mind-melting pounding. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, his mouth occasionally pressing into the curve of my neck as my lips rested near his ear, my soft moans going straight to his brain. I started to feel sweat pepper his skin, his breathing heavy as his motions became even more rapid and uneven. He was right - he wouldn’t last long. I unwound my arms and placed my palms on his chest and pushed, taking him by surprise. He stopped his pounding and I could feel him flex inside me, bringing a gasp from my lips before I could get my words out. I refocused, his attention on me unwavering.

“Get on your back.”

I didn’t have to tell him twice as he flipped over with ease, pulling out of me for a second and taking my spot on the bed. I flung my leg over him and lowered myself down on him with zero hesitation, hating the cold feeling of emptiness. Deans hands worked on their own as they grabbed the soft flesh on my thighs, his fingers digging in as he groaned in pleasure. His head went back in the pillow, his eyes shut and jaw slack as I started to move, rocking back and forth, his hands softly guiding me. My fingers pushed into his chest as I steadied myself, and he seemed unphased by my weight in his state of ecstasy. I moaned, unable to stop myself from chasing my own pleasure as I looked down at him, loving that I was the one making him lose his mind in bliss. He opened his eyes, lids still hooded as he gazed up, watching me ride him like there was no tomorrow. For a moment his hands left my thighs, reaching up and tugging on the old T-shirt I was wearing.

“Take this shit off,” he growled, helping me discard the item. I lifted it over my head and tossed it to the floor with his garment, dishevelling my hair in the process.

“Better?” I asked, now completely bare to his burning gaze.

“Fuck yes,” he breathed, hands sliding up my stomach to caress the underside of my breasts, sliding a thumb over the silky smooth skin as his palms rested on my ribs. I rocked against him harder, feeling my own wetness on my thighs and mixing with my sweat. In this position it was like his cock was in my throat - he felt so deep, so engulfed by me I felt I could never let him go. I’d never felt so full in my life, it was borderline uncomfortable but I couldn’t get enough - it was intoxicating. HE was intoxicating. The smell of leather and gunpowder on his skin, the taste of beer on his lips and the silky smooth scars that dotted his otherwise perfect body was a drug in itself. I don’t even know if I truly hated him. Especially when he was here giving me the best sex of my life. I’d fuck this mans brains out everyday if I could. If he’d let me.

It didn’t take long for my impending climax to appear on the horizon. It bubbled, almost boiling as I rocked harder, faster, more desperately than before, making the bed creak and the headboard knock against the wall. Deans grip on my ass was assisting my motions as I started to lose control over the sounds tumbling from my lips - the name.

Dean.

I could see the desperation seeping into him as his rhythm started faltering, throwing me off for a split second before we found unison again. My nails dug into his chest once more, Dean totally unphased and too overwhelmed with pleasure to even care. My own pleasure turned to Earth shattering ecstasy as the buildup dropped and the cord snapped - wave, after wave, after wave of euphoria crashed around me, making my eyes roll and toes curl; legs trembling either side of Dean as I moaned his name - temporarily forgetting all other words. Clenching around Dean, it sent shockwaves through him that brought him to his own release, his grip painful on my delicate skin as he came undone with my name on his lips. I instantly felt warmth seep down the inside of my thigh, and the thought of being completely filled to the brim by him made my heart flutter. Dean trembled beneath me, both of us slowing down as we came down from our synchronised highs. After a few quiet moments of nothing but heavy breathing, he was the first to speak up.

“Ahh fuck, (Y/n)…. What the fuck was that?” He ran a hand through his hair.

I tilted my head in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“THAT,” he said pausing to catch his breath, looking up at me with eyes as black as coal, “was one of the most intense moments of my life,” he propped himself up onto his elbows so we were now almost eye to eye. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“I hope that’s a good thing?”

“Damn right.”

We stared at each other, clarity returning through the sexual fog, and strangely, regret was nowhere to be found. Deans tongue darted out and wet his lips, and I gnawed on my bottom lip almost nervously. He was still here. Unmoving. Why didn’t he leave?

Why didn’t I WANT him to leave?

We sat in peaceful silence as I stayed on his lap, Dean making no effort to move even though he had started to soften inside me, letting the mess leak out and drip down my thighs and over his hips. I’d have to change the bedsheets before sleeping. Deans eyes were returning to their usual mossy green, his gaze gentle on my figure for the first time since we’d met.

“I should probably get off - let you get back to your room,” I said, my eyes not leaving his, my tone lacking.

“Yeah… I should really let you sleep…” Deans voice was the same as mine. We looked at each other for a few more minutes before we both leaned forwards, Deans fingers threading ever so gently through my hair and I placed my hands on his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum beneath my fingertips. His lips were as soft as silk as they pressed on mine - a great contrast to the bruising make out session earlier. He kissed me with a tenderness I didn’t know he could muster, and it made my heart flutter something crazy. His mouth moved on mine, as soft and warm as a summers breeze and I didn’t want it to end. Eventually he pulled away, a smile on his lips.

“Sweetheart you really need to sleep,” his voice held a kindness I’m sure wasn’t for me.

“I…umm…” I paused and looked away, fighting with myself about whether I should even say what’s in my mind. I decided to be bold, fighting the blush rising from deep within.

“Dean, I don’t want you to go…”

He stared at me, and for the first time ever a pink glow adorned his masculine features. He was still. Very still, and I was starting to scold myself for being weird and out of character. It didn’t take much longer for him to reply.

“Well let's get you cleaned up and head to my room - we can sort your sheets out in the morning.”

——————————————————————

@justjensenandhisalteregos @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lanassmarty @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hell0-ki11y111 @hobby27 @lilcuutiee @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @viridiesa @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @ilikw @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @vsplanet @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @raven-red10 @feyresqueen @lori69 @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @qinnroki @winchestergirl82 @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @lazygrungekid @dumbestbrunette04 @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world

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#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #eventual smut #smut #supernatural smut #supernatural #spn

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

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Sanji's Super Birthday Present ~ Part 2

Here's the long awaited (sorry!) sequel to Part 1 (WC 988). The request was for someone to commission a sex toy from Franky, and our love cook is about to enjoy his present.

Pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1105

Ao3 Link

Summary: You've never had so much fun giving someone their birthday present before. Sanji makes sure you know how grateful he is.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Swearing, Smut, Established Relationship, Vaginal Fingering, Hand Jobs, Comeplay, Sex Toys, (Strap On), Bottom Sanji, Rimming, Anal Play, Pegging, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut

A/N: Both parts of this fic can be read on their own, but they would occur in the not so distant future of the We've All Got Needs poly fic. (Also, I am sorry about the wait, but this was one of my first requests. I don't think I would have done this smut justice back then, so I hope you forgive me, and enjoy this filth now 😅)

“Bend over, birthday boy.”

Your voice had never sounded so husky, so dangerous, and the thrill you felt as Sanji arched his back was delicious.

“Don’t keep me wait–”

Laughter almost poured from your lips, your teeth clenching down as Sanji practically flew to the center of the bed. This time he arched his back for you while he lifted that biteable ass into the air.

“Fuck, angel, I love you so much,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering as he pressed his face into the mattress.

“Love you too, pretty boy,” you teased, pressing your lips against his ass cheek while your fingers caressed all that gorgeous flesh.

Sanji was too much fun to play with. He was always so focused on you, all of his attention ripping you into throbbing pieces before he’d ever take anything for himself.

This felt amazing. His eagerness spurred you on, a pleased hum moving through you as you spread his cheeks apart.

“I wanna make you feel soo good, honey.”

Sanji tried to reply, but let out a needy gasp as your tongue touched that sensitive ring of muscle, leaving wet circles and increasing the pressure until he made more pretty noises.

“That feel good, handsome?”

“S-so good,” he answered, shaking as you returned to your work.

You let your tongue press inside him slightly, just as you reached a hand between his legs to stroke his swollen dick.

“Oh, fu-uucckk,” Sanji cried out, grunting as you felt that familiar twitching, his thick cock pulsing in your hand. You moaned into his ass, the whimpering praise leaving his lips only growing as his orgasm stretched on.

Leaving soothing circles with your palm on his back, you waited for your lover to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself back to sit on his heels, shaking his head at the mess he’d made on the bed.

“We can clean the blanket later, sweetie. I’ll clean this for you though.”

“Gods, fuck,” Sanji practically shouted, laughing after you released his sensitive cock from your mouth. You grinned, the taste of his pleasure on your tongue.

“You are my filthy angel, aren’t you,” he purred, pulling you in for a kiss before helping you tug the messy blanket off the bed.

“Can I show you how much I love my present?”

Sanji didn’t wait for an answer, just went to his knees, smoothing his strong hands along your thighs as he pushed you back against the wall.

“I–”

“You are so sweet to me. So perfect.”

Shivers ran through you as he traced around the straps holding his gift in place. A hand traveled between your thighs, bringing moans from both of you as he found the wetness that had soaked through your panties.

“So good for me…”

Sanji pulled your panties aside, circling your clit before plunging two fingers inside of you. His other hand gripped your waist, keeping you steady as you met his dark eyes.

“I love my gift, sweetheart.”

His fingers curled, dancing along that perfect spot within you, right as he took the strap on into his mouth, his eyes fluttering as he looked up at you.

“Oh my– oh, Sanji…”

You had no idea that the sight of him shoving the toy down his throat would affect you like this, but with his fingers at work, you were already coming. He kept you pressed against the wall, moaning his name while he sucked that toy for you. Your twitching pussy squeezed his fingers, trying to pull him in as you fell apart.

He hummed as he released you, helping you move toward the bed after giving the toy a few long strokes with his tongue.

Shaking yourself to bring back your mind after that orgasm, you fisted your fingers into his hair, loving the little moan he let out.

“It’s your birthday, lover. Be a good boy, and lie down for me. I wanna see your pretty face.”

A wicked smile touched your lips at the desperate whimpers he made while you went to the dresser. Turning back to him with a towel and lube, you found him lying at the edge of the bed, that pretty cock ready and leaking again.

“So good for me, handsome,” you rasped, pouring lube on your fingers while he pulled a pillow under his head to get a better view.

You let your tongue hang loose with want while you rubbed lube around his asshole. The noises and faces he made were already so frenzied, you couldn’t imagine what would happen next.

“Gods, angel, please. You’re so–”

Your fingers cut him off, pressing in, testing, making him writhe as you wrapped your free hand around that swollen length.

“How’s that, honey,” you checked in with a tease. “Do my fingers feel–”

“Fuck me, pleeease,” he pleaded, and you rewarded him with another finger. You went slow, but he begged for more.

Sanji held his legs up, spread wide as he watched you drip lube along his new toy. The drool at the corner of his lips made your body tighten again, loving every second of his frantic pleasure.

“You really like your present,” you faked a shy voice as you teased his asshole with the tip of the toy.

“Fuck yes, angel. Please…”

“Please, what,” you taunted, kissing his knee.

“Please, fuck me, sweetheart. Please shove that toy in my– Fuck. Oh fuck…”

Nice and slow, you rocked your hips into him, every face he made etching into your mind forever.

He whined for you to go faster, so you fucked that curved toy into him, knowing it was hitting right where he needed it.

“Y/N, angel, so good–”

“Yeah, pretty boy? You like it when I fuck your ass, handsome?”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond as you grabbed his cock again, thrusting into him while you felt those thick veins pulsing in your hand.

“Y/N, feels so– coming, angel,”

He choked out those words while you praised him. You let out your own soft moans of pleasure as you watched hot ropes of come spill out, covering his chest and stomach while his eyes rolled back.

Letting him go only when he twitched and begged, you laid beside him to catch your breath before meeting his eyes with a grin.

“Soo, did you like–”

“Best present ever,” he panted, rolling to kiss your cheek. “My filthy angel spoils me too much. Let’s clean up so I can spoil you back.”

His raspy words arched your back a bit, and you sighed as his lips met yours.

“Mm, happy birthday, pretty boy.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Oh, Sanji 🥰🥰

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @vinsmokesangio

#sanji smut #sanji x reader #one piece smut #reader insert #fem!reader #smut #opla smut #sanji fanfiction #sanji fanfic #x reader #turtletaub fics #one piece x reader #use of y/n #cw pegging

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morerawerbreath · 1 year

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Fictional Men Ranked Least to Most Likely to Eat Pussy

When I’m bored my powers turn to evil. Happy to announce that @earlymodernlesbian is not only is an enabler but wrote a gay companion piece which you can and should read here!!!!

10. Mr. Rochester — Jane Eyre

No chance of oral here. Sorry, I don’t think he puts Jane first once in this book. She’s too busy being a ministering angel to ever consider anything above and beyond her wifely duty and I don’t think Rochester ever really stops being a narcissist long enough to consider her desires or even, you know, her life. I bet his french mistress asked him to do it once and he was like “ew, no”

9. Rhett Butler — Gone With the Wind

Rhett says shit like “you ought to be kissed and by someone who knows how,” and then I bet would go down on you one time just to show you what you were missing out on, and then he’d tease you about how much you liked it for months afterwards and refuse to do it again. Imagine how much more normal Scarlett might have been if she was getting regular oral.

8. Konstantin Levin — Anna Karenina

Definitely knows about eating pussy and can’t stop thinking about it. I think he might even shamefully obsess about it in conjunction with his dirty peasant laborer fantasies. However, he also has the ascetic monk thing going on so I bet he hardcore represses his desires to actually do it. That being said, I think if he ever got over himself he’d be way into it.

7. Mr Darcy — Pride and Prejudice

I’m not convinced Mr. Darcy even knows going down on girls is a thing, but once Bingley had filled him in I bet he would try it. Elizabeth I’m sure would not object but I can’t see this happening more than once or twice.

6. Oliver Mellors — Lady Chatterley’s Lover

Mellors has the distinct advantage and disadvantage of being the only character from a book that actually describes sex acts. If it was based solely on what he said (being turned on by getting women off, not shutting up about Connie’s ass, talking about how much he wants a “real” woman with a “real” body), I’d say absolutely he wants to get down there and would use the cringiest words possible to describe it. However, they textually do almost everything else so I feel like if he ate her out DH Lawrence would have told us 😔

EDIT: he goes down on her in the most recent movie!!! vindicated

5. Jonathan Harker — Dracula

Jonathan is obsessed with Mina (rightfully) and loves her to the end of the earth, so of course he’d do anything for her, including eat her out. However, there’s so much putting women on goddess pedestals in Dracula that he might just like, repeatedly kiss her between her legs and and be like, “am I doing this right?” and Mina would be like “I love you so much Jonathan” but she wouldn’t actually get off, you know?

4. Heathcliff — Wuthering Heights

Someone who is willing to dig up your grave would definitely be down to lick your pussy. Cathy and Heathcliff are so rabid about each other I bet oral is like, one of the least weird things they would have done to each others bodies if they had the chance

3. Gabriel Oak — Far from the Madding Crowd

Not intimidated by Bathsheba’s independence and position of power. Could take care of her and spoil her if she ever let him and they both know it. Plus, not afraid to get down and dirty and do farm work for her. If a man cures your sheep and saves your hay before a storm, what else will he do for you? 👀

2. Mr. Knightley — Emma

Mr. Knightly is the definition of a service top. 100% confident in his masculinity and completely comfortable putting Emma’s needs and wants first, but not gonna let her get away with being high and mighty. Excellent combination of obsessed with her but still in charge. ;) She would get neurotic about it and he would tell her to chill out and he’d be right.

1. George Emerson — A Room with a View

George chugs his respect women juice and is so turned on by the idea of women as individuals with unique desires he can’t stand to see Lucy betray herself by marrying a robot. “I want you to have your own thoughts even when I hold you in my arms” ?!? “The desire to govern a woman lies very deep, and men and women must fight it together before they shall enter the Garden” !! What’s not to love about a pro-Eve humanist who enjoys swimming naked and is constantly telling everyone to be less embarrassed about desire and the body? No question George is going to be eating Lucy out every day of their lives and getting off on it himself.

Bonus:

Marius Pontmercy — Les Misérables

Shy, but also French. Not sure which one wins out here.

#pride and prejudice #emma #wuthering heights #a room with a view #far from the madding crowd #gone with the wind #anna karenina #lady chatterley's lover #dracula #jonathan harker #mr darcy #heathcliff #rhett butler #jane eyre #mr rochester #marius #les mis

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princecharmingwinks · 4 months

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Sterek Fic Rec - June-December 2023.

Can you believe we are almost at the end of 2023? These last six months have been quite busy for me so sadly haven't been able to read as much fic as I would have liked. But I am still here and will continue to create rec lists whenever I get the chance to read more fics. I am also rounding the word counts so please click on the links for the exact word count. :)

it doesn't have to be a snowman by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren) (1/1 | 4K | General)

The Beacon Beans coffee shop is what Stiles would refer to as a lifesaver. They supply his dose of sugar whenever he needs it, they don't ask questions, and their hot chocolate is delicious. And now they're running a snowman building competition where the grand prize would get him an entire year's worth of drinks. Really, all he needs is a partner to team up with. Only everyone else from the pack already seems to have paired up.

Bravery is a Loaded Gun by DefNotForWork (1/1 | 17K | Explicit)

“No, I’m not asexual, Stiles,” Derek said shortly. The teen’s heart sank in his chest, his palms going clammy and his neck prickling with the familiar feeling of rejection. “So then it’s,” Stiles swallowed, throat clogging, unable to give voice to the facts he would much rather ignore. The silence grew between them, growing tense the longer it was left. For the first time in years, Stiles couldn’t speak. The weight of inadequacy held down his typical stream of useless banter. What does one say in this sort of situation? ‘I’m sorry you don’t find me attractive?’ In which the boys speak in half sentences and have two totally different conversations. What they can agree on, eventually, is that they love each other. And that Derek should jerk off more.

Undertow by entanglednow (1/1 | 4K | Mature)

"I don't want you to die because my swirls weren't swirly enough."

Fire and Water by GreyHaven (1/1 | 2K | General)

Derek is full of unspoken words and unexpressed emotions that sear him from the inside out until finally, finally, he allows them to escape into dark ash stains that smear across the harsh white of his notebook. Or, the one in which Derek is compelled to write a story. Turns out, he's writing about Stiles. What will happen when Stiles reads it? Angst and healing and two people finding safety in each other.

eli's parents are so gross (read: in love) by ash_mcj (1/1 | 1K | Teen)

"I would’ve been here earlier, but nobody thought it would be smart to call the one person who’s intimately dealt with the Nogitsune before, so,” Stiles said bitterly as he threw his hands up. "Now I have a list of asses I gotta kick over this very avoidable fiasco. Scott’s first, since he’s the Alpha—I’m pretty sure that’s how that works. His responsibility, or whatever.” The familiar sound of Derek’s car pulling into the driveway caught Eli's attention, and he grinned. “Is Dad on your list?” “Hell yeah, Dad is on my list! Right under Scott.” “Well, he just got home, so—” Stiles didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence before stomping off in the direction of the living room—and Eli quickly scrambled to follow him, ready to eavesdrop on what was likely going to be a rather impressive and amusing lecture. [or: eli is glad that stiles is home, since derek has nearly died several times in his absence, but he really wishes they were a little less glad to see each other] -- prompt | a reunion kiss

Ashes, Ashes by ShanaStoryteller (1/1 | 2K | Teen)

The Sheriff gets a call at work - someone's tried to burn down his home with his son inside. "I thought of you coming here, and finding me dead, of another burnt out husk of a body, something else fire has stolen from you, of you having nothing left to grasp but ashes," John can't even call that a whimper, it's clearly a whine as Derek's hands tighten against Stile's hips, as if his boy will shudder to dust at the mere mention of the possibility unless Derek's hands can hold him into one piece, "and that thought was worse than dying."

Love Runs Wild by DevilDoll (1/1 | 9K | Explicit)

"You've got a hickey on the back of your neck!" A Neckz 'n Throats story.

So When Do I Get To Pledge My Loyalty To The Mob? by RedRidingStiles (1/1 | 10K | Mature)

“Are you my sugar daddy?” Stiles blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth when his brain catches up to his mouth. The man lets out a soft laugh, making his way around the couch till he’s standing just feet away from Stiles. Stiles can smell his cologne from here, it smells heavenly, Stiles kinda wants to bury his face into the guy's chest so he can figure out exactly what it is. “If that’s what you’d like to call it.” The man smiles. Stiles doesn’t think he should be allowed to smile like that. All soft and gorgeous and way too pretty to be legal. He’s still not convinced any of this is real. Stiles loses his wallet, someone returns it along with $5,000. Shit keeps coming, Stiles life doesn't make any sense anymore, he's just going with it. Edited in October 2022

Stiles is My Safe Place by Star_crossed02 (5/5 | 10K | Mature)

Stiles gets bitten by Kali, and after a brief adjustment period, proceeds to co-lead the Hale Pack to defeat the Alpha Pack once and for all. OR What happens when a sassy spark-werefox starts courting an alpha sourwolf?

It feels like a perfect night (for breakfast at midnight) by princecharmingwinks (1/1 | 1K | General)

Stiles is floating on cloud nine. He is absolutely living his best life. It's a Saturday night, he's out with his friends and he's dancing like it's his birthday. Because it is! (Or it will be in 20 minutes, once midnight ticks around). And what better way to celebrate the respectful age of 22 than a night out?

princecharmingwinks special mention (My plane flying companion - I read a new chapter every time I took a new flight)

First Son, Last Chance by orphan_account (12/12 | 60K | Mature)

When First Son Stiles Stilinski, beloved public figure and the bane of his private security team, goes missing without a trace, ex-security officer Derek Hale finds himself tangled up in the world of Argent Security, a world he was forced out of when rumours abounded that he was sleeping with his charges. There's no leads, no time and no way Derek is going to rest until Stiles has been brought home safely. (Inspired by this post.)

That is all folks for 2023! Sorry again for a late addition. See you in the new year. Remember to leave kudos and comments for our wonderful writers.

#sterek #sterek fanfiction #fic rec #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #princecharminglists

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dearabhi · 3 months

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book dates • harry james potter x reader!

PART 1 of the series!

SUMMARY: harry has a crush on mikayla greene and wants to talk to her. he goes to y/n l/n in need for help.

TROPES: slytherin x gryffindor, strangers to lovers?, almost unrequited love, oblivious daft dimbos!

author's note! hey everyone! welcome to the new series, and this was acc written quite a while ago, just so lazy to post this. aneewayz, the future parts will be posted soon!! [please interact! it might encourage me to write this cute ass fic soon!]

word count: 1k? i guess

warnings! swearings.

—

“Mind telling me why were you stalking me, Potter?” Y/N said, cornering Harry in the library. Look, Harry wasn't exactly stalking her. He just wanted to talk to Y/N, but he is so nervous to do it. So, Harry decided to just follow everywhere Y/N goes just in case Harry gets the courage to talk to her.

“I was not stalking you, L/N!” Harry manages to reply back. Y/N raises an eyebrow.

“Then why are you following me then?” Y/N questioned him. Harry tries to think of a reply.

“I was not following you either, I just happened to be in the same place as you, L/N” He lies, folding his arms.

“Potter, I have never ever seen you set foot in the library without the company of Granger.”

Now he has a question he doesn't know how to lie about. He just has to tell the truth then. But at the same time, Harry didn't want to let go of his pride to a Slytherin, either.

You should've thought of that before thinking of the plan, idiot! says a voice in his head. Shut up! he tells the voice.

Harry sighs and just decides to tell her instead. “Can we sit on a bench while we talk?” He asked to which Y/N nodded at him suspiciously. Harry thought she might think whatever he's trying to do is for some stupid prank.

“I want your help,” Harry said as soon as the two sat on the bench.

“How exactly?” Y/N asks.

“W- Well, I want you to read some books for me?”He starts. Harry avoids Y/N's eyes now. She is going to laugh at him after he elaborates his master plan. And he would never ever set foot in Y/N's direction ever again.

“Why would I ever read—” Y/N interrupts.

“Listen to me and you will understand!” Harry says quickly. “First of all, I want you to know that I have a crush on this girl from Ravenclaw. No, I am not going to say her name, sorry. She likes reading books that Hermione says would never read. And I heard you love reading books and would read any kind of book.”

“You see, L/N, I would recommend you to read some books for me and you would tell me whatever the storyline is,” Harry continues. “This is a win-win for both of us. You get to read books. You tell me about them and I get to talk to my crush about it.” Harry concludes.

Harry gathers courage to look at Y/N after elaborating his clever plan. The 'crush' he mentioned is Mikayla Greene. (You can't disagree with Harry on this opinion, Mikayla had a very beautiful laugh and eyes.)

Harry saw Y/N, who seemed to control an urge to laugh but failed at it miserably. Harry sighed. “You can laugh if you want, I guess,”

Y/N started to laugh very loudly that Harry feared Madam Pince might kick her out of the library permanently. Still, Y/N couldn't be able to control it.

Harry is mentally planning to sail to a far country and never come back again. Or hide in his Invisibility Cloak forever. He hates listening to his father's ideas now. He should've asked his other dad, instead.

“I— what— made —” Y/N could not even form a sentence at this point. Harry wanted to hit himself for telling her. He was also worried that Y/N might choke on her own laughter. Out of embarrassment, he covered his face.

Finally, after at least five minutes and a warning from Madam Pince, Y/N stopped laughing.

Why was Harry still here anyway? He still wants a reply after fully knowing what Y/N would say. He is a fool like that. That was when Harry noticed Y/N standing, a smile still plastered on her face. “Thank you, Potter.” She says.“I have never had a laugh like this in years.” Y/N started moving. But Harry wasn't done with her yet.

She still has not given her an answer right?

Harry finally caught on Y/N after literally chasing her. “L/N! Wait!” He shouted earning a glare from a third year girl looking at the two. Y/N stopped and turned around to face Harry.

“You still haven't told me the answer!” Harry manages to say to her despite the fact he was running out of breath.

Y/N cleared her throat, and chuckled again and replied quite firmly with a straight face. “No.”

｡˚ ✧˚ · .

Harry being the idiot he is, did not take the rejection by Y/N for his plan to his heart. He was quite determined that Y/N would somehow accept the deal.

Harry actually knew the reason why Y/N didn't accept his deal. Harry has actually never talked to Y/N despite the fact sharing a couple of classes through the years. She probably thought he was trying to get into a prank or something.

So, what if Y/N actually gets to know about Harry?

Harry tries that too.

Unfortunately, Harry's all gryffindor traits left whenever he approached the h/c slytherin. He would just create a lame excuse and move out of whatever place he was in immediately.

“Potter, has anyone ever told you, you're bad at whatever you are doing right now? because you actually are.” Y/N suddenly said when Harry tried to approach to talk to her when Y/N was reading in the library.

Harry, who was (pretending to) read— looked up to the Y/N sitting in front of him. “What do you mean, L/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry. “If you ever want to say something to me, Just say it. Anyone with a brain would know that you have been trying to approach me for the past two weeks.”

She was coming straight to the point. Shit. What would Harry say now? He had this planned didn't he? Then why the heck is he getting nervous?

“I—I actually needed to talk to you about the plan I told you the last time. This time with a better offer,” Harry started. Y/N clearly looked disinterested. “I swear you will like it, L/N!”

“Entertain me then,” Y/N told him in a dull tone.

“Um— So, Hermione told me that there is going to be a new bookstore in Hogsmeade.” If it isn't anymore obvious, Hermione is unaware of Harry's plan, by the way. “Perhaps if you accept to help me with my plan, I would buy books from the stores on our every hogsmeade visit.”

Harry looked at Y/N eyes, which were now sparking in excitement. Y/N cleared her throat and looked convinced, maybe?

“I will maybe accept this foolish plan of yours— let me finish before frightening the whole Hogwarts with your scream, Potter— If you read whatever book it may be with me— No! I am not finished yet! — I will only read the book if it interests me.” Y/N explained. Harry tries not to scream and (in Y/N's words,) frighten the whole Hogwarts with his scream.

“.. and that's it?” Harry asked Y/N, after she went on and went on with her rules.

“I will add more rules if you continue to annoy me, Potter. ” Harry rolled his eyes at that.

Atleast, Harry having Mikayla Greene as his girlfriend isn't in the far future anymore.

#harry potter #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter x y/n #harry james potter x you #harry potter x reader #harry james potter #harry james potter fluff #harry james potter smut #pls interact!!#it helps alott!#harry potter x y/n

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jackchampiongf13 · 5 months

Text

“One hell of a Women.”

Word Count: 1.0k

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n has gone through lots of trauma in one lifetime. She gets mad at her one and only true love for risking his life in battle even though they aren’t even together yet.

A/n: I am seriously sorry for not posting anything for like weeks but school has been kicking my ass. Thank you so much for the support on my last post I love you all sm!! Also ik I said I would only ever write for Jack but I feel back into my obsession rabbit hole with Neteyam so I thought why not write a series(maybe depending how I feel) on it. Love you all❤️❤️😝🦃

————————————————————————— From a young age you were very mature. You were always silly, but oh so wise. When you were 4 your mother was killed by your father. You had witnessed this gruesome attack but still held deep love for your father. This made you stronger and a mighty warrior. In the village many people knew this, including Jake Sully.

Your mother came from the same background as Jake Sully. Making you very close to his children. Your mother had come with Jake and Norm and ended up falling in love with a Navi. This man turned against you and your own mother after being bribed by Miles Quaritch to have everything he has ever wanted. But he had to kill his mate. And you, but you survived which he did not know of. Thinking he erased his entire past he moved on and helped Miles with his plan to kill Jake Sully.

Since you had no one anymore Jake gladly stood up to care for you and convinced his mate Neytiri, who also was happy to be there for you because of how close the two were.

—————————————————————————

“You fucking dumbass!” You shouted. No shouted is not good enough to describe how loud you were being. “What you thought that was ok to do? Lo’ak you are a stupid moron who does not take orders!” You flick his head making him jump back out from being surprised in pain.

“I- look I’m sorry I jus-“ he starts to get out but you flick his head again. “Listen to me. You don’t get to say sorry or say anything!” You start to go off on him but then his brother jumps in “Look Y/n this is my fault it’s ok let’s just go back ok?” Neteyam says in a tempting voice making you want to listen. “You too! You say no you don’t egg him on you idiot. I mean god I know he doesn’t listen but jesus drag him by his ear!” Lo’aks ears go down as he can’t even look you in the eyes, but Neteyam can. And he is. Making you almost stop. But you can’t.

“I’m older than the both of you! I get to yell at the both of you for being idiots. 1, Lo’ak are you kidding me? You get to have a role in the battle but you always need more! Fucking more? 2, your father, YOUR CLAN LEADER gave you a role to follow but what do you do instead? You don’t listen! I don’t care if he’s your father and you don’t care if you get in trouble by him but I do! I’m in charge of your asses out there and if either of you get hurt I get shit for months.” Neteyam starts to smirk while looking at the both of you. He’s thinking Lo’ak deserves this big ass lecture.

“AND YOU! Don’t even start to smirk. Say no! No Lo’ak! I will not let you mess up everything and HARM so many other people because you are selfish!” You yell pushing your finger into his beautifully chiseled chest. He stands there listening respectfully like the gentleman he is. “Guys I’m sorry but what were you thinking?! You could have hurt yourself Lo’ak! You could have killed your brother too! And I know I’m this moment it may not seem like it but I love you both so deeply and don’t want to see you get hurt.”

They both smile at you and you roll your eyes and walk off pissed. But god so heavily in love with Neteyam.

“I don’t understand what you see in that women Neteyam.” Lo’ak says while looking at his brother watch you walk away.

“She’s one hell of a women and it does stuff to me” Lo’ak frowns.

“Get a room freak.” Neteyam frowns at this comment but can’t help just rethink everything thay just happened and smile the slightest bit.

—————————————————————————

Hours later you are in your tent just laying on your cot. You start to feel sorry and want to go apologize realizing you were way to harsh. Especially on Neteyam. It’s not like he can control his crazy brother.

Before you even know it your legs are taking you to your crushes tent. You begin to walk slowly but your heart begins to beat faster so you pick up your pace just to get this over with.

“Nete are you here?” You know hoping he’s not. “Yes come in!” He shouts back. Oh shit.

Walk in and smile and he smiles back. He looks into your gorgeous eyes but you quickly look away to much of a coward to look at him.

“What’s up? You’re not one to apologize you are way to stubborn.” You giggle knowing this is very true. “I know but I can’t help but not say sorry. I was being very selfish back there. I know Lo’ak never listens you couldn’t do anything about him.” You start to fiddle with your fingers but he stops you and makes you look him in the eyes. “Look love it’s ok I thought it was funny you going off on him. He totally deserved that and now he’s scared of you.” you laugh again.

“I am sorry Nete it was so rude of me.” He takes your hand in his “Love stop apologizing.” Your cheeks betray you and start to blush hard for the second time at the nickname.

“Nete, I-“ suddenly a scream is heard and next thing you know your running towards the mysterious noise.

#neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader

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fairysluna · 1 year

Text

NOT THE BEST IDEA — Modern!AU | Part 2

MASTERLIST | Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: The secret is out, and now you have to learn how to heal your broken heart and how to move on, and soon a cute new guy would help you realize how much you were missing in life.

Tags/TW: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, therapy sessions (bc she needs it so bad), helaena being the best friend we all deserve, brief smut(?, mentions of violence, murder and blood, aemond still is an ass but now he's also obsessed.

Author's Note: I got a little carried away with Cregan’s storyline at the beginning, but here it is!! Hopefully this will meet all of your expectations, your ideas were super helpful so thank you all of you, hope this is worthy of them!!

Word Count: 6.0k

Tag List: @immyowndefender @bellameshipper @mysticgothicgirl @aemondswifeisme @issshhh

Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!!

You entered the room. You started to pace back and forth around it as the nerves were eating you alive. Your hands were shaky, and the tears soon came back to your eyes; the guilt, the rage and the pain in your chest was making this whole situation too overwhelming. You could feel the panic running through your veins as your beloved friend turned around to see you.

She looked serious, but not mad. Yet, the panic that you felt in the moment, along with the fear of losing her friendship over what had happened, had you seeing her serious semblance as something terrible.

"I'm so sorry, Helaena..." You cried, keeping the distance between you both, too scared of getting closer to her and being pushed away, "I ruined your cake, I ruined your birthday, I- I don't even know what to say, I'm a terrible friend, this is your special day and I ruined it..."

Your words were stumbling against each other, your mind going miles per hour as you could only sense the fear of losing Helaena forever.

“I’m sorry, I’m- I’m horrible, I’m sorry… I never meant to ruin everything.”

The girl walked towards you and hugged you tightly. This action had taken you aback and it took you a few seconds to react. You wrapped your arms around her waist and buried your face on the crock of her neck, leaving her skin soaking with your tears.

"Nonsense..." She spoke softly, as she held you close, "Y/n, you didn't ruin anything, we can get another cake, mum can go and pick one from the bakery, it’s okay…”

“I’m so sorry…” You repeated.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay,” she reassured you, “But, y/n…” she pulled back, only to look at your face, “you need to tell me what is going on, this is so weird, I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Your eyes closed as you felt embarrassment. You looked like a psycho back there, and you cannot even think what Helaena was thinking about you right now.

“You promise you won’t be mad at me?” You asked, your voice shaky and unsteady. Helaena nodded and you took a deep breath.

You explained everything to her. How Aemond and you started to play around until eventually you were fool enough to fall in love with him, you told her how he gave you your first kiss and then offer you a relationship with the condition that should be secret, you told her that you were with him for almost a year before he decided to throw everything to the trash by a stupid letter.

And of course, you told her how he forbade you to speak about this with anyone.

“Oh, Gods…” Helaena said once you stopped explaining everything, “You had to go through all this by yourself? That’s why you were locked in your house most of the summer?”

“I couldn’t bear to see him,” you confessed, “I loved him so much… Perhaps I still do.”

“And he brought his girlfriend now… showing her around as if he is bragging about it. What an idiot!”

“I don’t want you to change the way you look at him, I know how close you both are.” you said softly, “my relationship with Aemond is now from the past.”

“How am I supposed to see him in the face now that I know how much he made you suffer? He’s the kind of guy we scream at while watching rom-coms, y/n. The type of guy we hate.”

“It’s okay, really.”

“No, it’s not,” she shook her head, grabbing your hands, “you said it yourself, you still love him, it’s not okay.”

“I must be okay, Helaena,” you quickly said, “he has a girlfriend, he moved on and I must do the same thing. I can’t keep crying for him when he doesn’t even care about me.”

Helaena pressed her lips and sighed, “if it makes you feel better, she is old and you're prettier. She is his Philosophy teacher.”

Your jaw almost fell to the floor, “Shut up, she’s not.”

“She is.” she nodded, “he was his assistant and then… they fucked.”

“Oh Gods…” you let out a breathy laugh and you covered your lips with your hand.

“I always thought Aegon would be the one doing this kind of stuff.” Helaena said between chuckles, “You should’ve seen mum’s reaction when she found out, it was hilarious.”

You laughed. The tears were already drying on your cheeks when Helaena pulled you in for another tight and comforting hug.

“You know I’m always going to be here for you, right?”

You nodded, “of course I do,” you said in a soft whisper. “I think it is best if I don’t come to your house while Aemond is here.”

“That’s fine…” she replied.

“I thought about killing him, actually,” you confessed.

Helaena pulled away from the hug and looked at you with a worried face, “Oh, babe…” she cleared her throat, “do you have plans this friday?”

“No, why?”

“You need a therapist.”

Two weeks later, you were seated in the waiting room of your therapist office, waiting for your second session. Helaena made you company the first time, but now she was out of the city with the rest of her family, so you were on your own now. You were sitting as you were looking at the Weather Report on the TV that was hanging on the wall. Your shoes were on top of the chair as you hugged your folded legs and placed your chin between your knees. You were completely bored without the company of your beloved friend.

That day, you arrived a little early. You had at least fifteen minutes to wait before it was your turn. You were trying to distract your mind, counting random things like the tiles on the floor, or the chairs in the room. You did not even notice the guy that walked towards you until he stood up in front of you.

"Is this seat taken?"

You looked up at this guy. Then you looked around the room. Literally every single chair was empty; it was seven o’ clock on a Friday, there was no one there but you, the guy in front of you and the old secretary behind the desk.

"Uhm... I think all the seats are empty actually.”

That made him chuckle, and he showed you his charming smile. He is cute, you thought.

“I saw you last week with a blonde girl, I thought she might have come with you today, too.” You frowned a little, has he seen you before? Was he watching you this whole time? Is he a creep? He soon widened his brown eyes, as if he had just realized how bad his words sounded, “Oh, Gods, don’t think I’m some kind of psychopath, I- I just saw you the other day and- I’ve never seen you before… I usually sit in that corner and the other day I saw you, and- Oh, fuck, did I just made a fool out of myself?”

You laughed. It was subtle but you did. He also chuckled, a bit nervous. You've seen him before, he would usually be with another brown haired boy that Helaena once thought was cute. Perhaps he wasn't a psycho, perhaps he just wanted to be your friend.

"It’s okay." You said, a breathy laugh left your lips, "you can sit." you tilted your head, and he soon sat on your side.

He cleared his throat and stayed silent for a couple minutes. You did not say anything either. You were both unsure of what to say or do now. You saw him from your peripheral view and realized he was glancing slightly at you, as if he was trying to say something but the words would not come out of his mouth. Something came over you and soon you were the one breaking the silence.

"I'm y/n." you stretched your hand for him to take.

He took it, slightly smiling and relieved, "I'm Cregan."

"Are you waiting for your session too?" You asked, trying to create a conversation.

"Umh, no,” he shook his head, “I've come to comfort my friend. He's going through some hard stuff.”

“How bad?”

He sighed, “he found out his father is not his actual father,” he explained, and your mouth opened with surprise.

“Oh, shit…” you muttered.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “what about you?”

You pressed your lips in a thin line as you really considered lying to him, creating a super dramatic story seemed tempting, but you could not bring yourself to lie to him. Not when he was looking down at you with those sweet, kind eyes.

“My ex ruined my psyche,” you simply said.

“Oh.”

“But I'm doing therapy now so I guess I'm healing my trauma, right?” You tried to joke, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Right.” He chuckled, “How long have you been single?”

“Eight months,” you then smirked. “Why? Are you going to ask me on a date?”

Cregan grinned after hearing your teasing, “do you want me to ask you for a date?”

“Do you want me to say yes?”

“Perhaps…”

You chuckled, "well, I'm going to answer you once I come out of my session."

"Then I guess I'll wait."

"Oh, you would wait for me?” You spoke with a dramatic tone that made him smile widely, “that's so romantic…”

"I would wait for you forever,” he replied, matching your tone almost immediately.

You felt something in your gut that you instantly recognized. Your smile flickered as you realized what was happening, and you immediately regret it. You were not in conditions to jump into another relationship right now, not after everything you have been through and you knew that very well.

But Gods, he was so damn charming.

You were not able to exchange more words as one of the doors was opened and a thin brown haired guy walked out it. He looked at Cregan with a raised eyebrow before looking at you and smirked playfully to his friend. However, he just moved his head in order to tell Cregan it was time to go.

He stood up and turned to see you one last time.

"I guess I'll have my answer next week," he inferred, "same hour?"

You thought about it. You really did. Perhaps this was your chance to finally be happy with a nice and decent guy, and you were pushing back out of fear. Your heart spoke first, and then your mind wanted to slap you.

"Same hour." you nodded.

He gave you one of those bewitching smiles as he left and you stood there. Feeling so stupid for making this rush decision that would probably bring you big consequences in your future. But you could not help yourself, and at least now you have a week to think about your answer.

You were debating yourself during the whole session, and your therapists immediately noticed that something odd was going on in your messy head. You told her, of course, thinking that she might give you the green light that you were waiting for. You were expecting a positive reaction from her, saying that dating other guys might help you move on… but you knew that was far from reality once you saw her face turning serious and stern.

"Listen to me carefully, y/n,” she spoke demandingly, as if she was giving you a command rather than an advice. “No. dating. until. you. have. healed,” she said slowly, carefully pronouncing each word so there will be no space for misunderstandings, “you are in a delicate place emotionally right now, which leaves you vulnerable and weak towards new feelings and experiences. You might be right; this guy might be your knight in shiny armor, your savior, your future husband… but we cannot risk it.” She leaned over her chair, getting closer to you, “you have to be patient and wait until you have healed from what you went through, understood?”

You silently nodded, thinking about Cregan and his goddamn smile. Now you had no other choice but to reject him, and the mere thought almost made you shake out of nervousness and anxiety. Your overthinking mind did not help at all.

As soon as you walked out of the office, while you were waiting for the bus, you called Helaena and told her everything. And of course, she said she was going to be there for you when the time to reject him would arrive. Perhaps dating this new guy is not the best idea.

A week later, you entered the waiting room with Helaena hanging from your arm. You looked around trying to find Cregan, but he was nowhere to be seen. You felt some kind of relief after you thought he probably left and now you will not go through the anxiety that this situation would bring to you. But you were never that lucky.

The bathroom door opened and Cregan walked out of it, looking as enchanting as the last time you saw him. He had a growing beard now, which made him look even more handsome than he already was.

"That's him." you said to Helaena, she immediately looked at him in a discreet way and she gasped,

"Oh, he's cute..." she whispered before looking your way, "you can do this okay? just explain all the things your therapist said and you will be fine, he doesn't seem like the kind of man who would get angry if he's rejected."

"Your brother didn't seem like a douche bag and look where I am now."

Helaena pressed her lips, "just relax, it'll be fine, you'll see."

Cregan noticed your presence almost immediately –again no one was there besides you three–, and he walked your way with a gentle grin on his face. Helaena saw him coming and she went to sit, pulling out a book from her tote bag. You felt your hands shake.

"I was waiting for you,” he confessed once he was close enough for you to hear.

"You were?" You asked, your voice coming out a bit lower than you expected.

"I’m afraid you owe me an answer.”

You smiled kindly at him, but your eyes showed him the struggle inside your mind. He knew it almost instantly, and you could see the disappointment on his face. You sighed deeply before starting to speak,

“Look, this will sound as a pathetic excuse, but trust me; it is not.” You put a rebel hair strand behind your ear before you keep going. Your hands shook as you were slightly scared of what his reaction might be. “My therapist kinda forbade me from being in a relationship, or even going out on dates, she says I must heal before jumping into a serious relationship with someone new.”

Your voice turned progressively lower with each word you pronounced, and once you finished you stood there, looking at the tall and handsome man in front of you, expectantly. Cregan nodded, softly. Then he clicked his tongue and smiled once again. You frowned after seeing his reaction, and before you could say anything at all, he spoke first.

“What if it’s not a date?”

You froze. Your eyes narrowed with confusion as he chuckled.

“There’s no need to be something else, we can be friends, right?” he proposed, “unless you don’t want to.”

“Uhm… I- I do, yeah,” you nodded.

“Then we can hang out as friends. That’s not a date, is it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, “No, it isn’t.”

“Can I have your phone number, then?”

You nodded, “Sure.”

And that is when your life turned a little better, and you finally were able to heal.

Helaena scolded you, obviously. Saying that it is obvious that neither of you wanted just a friendship, but you immediately said that you would obey the words of your therapist and not get romantically involved with Cregan, no matter how badly you both want it… you were just friends.

Two months have passed since you last saw Aemond, and now you barely thought about him. Cregan kept your mind busy, inviting you to go out and have some fun. To live a little. You were now inseparable. With Cregan you could publicly do all the things that you were not able to do with Aemond. Now you were not afraid of coming across someone you know, and you were not checking your surroundings every minute afraid of someone seeing you together. There was nothing to hide anymore.

Soon you realized that Cregan was the whole opposite of Aemond. Not only physically, but also mentally. While Aemond was more serious, mature and stern, Cregan was unhinged, funny and easygoing. You found yourself thinking many times what you saw on Aemond in the first place, why did you even fall in love with him?

You never told your therapist about your friendship with Cregan… she did not have to know.

Two more months passed, and you and Helaena finally managed to get the apartment of your dreams, right in the middle of town, in a good and safe area. The apartment was a complete mess when they gave you both the keys, and there was a lot of work to do, especially with carrying the furniture, fixing and painting the walls. You and Helaena knew you were not going to be able to do this alone, so you called for help. The next day, Aegon arrived first with a denim overall without a shirt underneath. Soon Cregan arrived too.

Four people decorating made it faster and easier. It only took a week and a half to have everything ready. That same day at night, Aegon had invited his friends, for he said you needed to inaugurate your new home with a big party.

You did not know when, or how, but soon you were drunk.

Cregan was visibly drunk too, Aegon was already dancing on top of the center table while Helaena was taking polaroid pictures of everything, the music was loud and the amount of people was growing each time. You were actually surprised that the police had not arrived yet.

An Abba song was playing in the background when everything happened. When Cregan was dancing with you as your smile was brighter than ever, as your entire body felt like floating whenever he would hold you by grabbing your waist every time your drunk state would make you trip on your own feet. You were singing loud, while Cregan would only look back at you with a tender smile.

Little did you know that his eyes were filled with devotion for you. He really tried to be just your friend. He really did. But you made it so hard, your mere existence was tempting him. Cregan only held back because he cared too much about you, and because he really wanted to do things right with you.

But while you were dancing, that smile on your face and the way your body moved; it just felt right. Cregan made you stop, holding you still in front of him as his hands cupped your face. Your eyes stared at him, and your smile flickered as you realized what was about to happen. The voice of your therapist appeared in the back of your mind, you felt your ears buzzing as you saw him sighing before he started to lean slowly towards you.

You panicked, but you did not dare to move away because you knew you wanted this too. You wanted it so, so bad.

He brushed his lips against yours, tempting you as you felt his heavy breathing against your lips. You softly whimpered, feeling desperate to kiss him, but he seemed to be taking his time to enjoy the moment. Your hands were holding his shirt, as if you did not want him to let go.

But he did.

Cregan felt guilty about his doings, knowing what you were going through, and knowing what your conditions were. He clenched his eyes pulling back, his hands covering his face as a grunt left his lips and then, he left. You felt the room spinning as you saw him leaving the apartment.

You spend the rest of the night drinking, trying not to think about it.

The next day, you woke up at noon. Helaena went to drop Aegon back to his house, and you were pacing around the apartment trying to clean some part of the mess everyone left behind. You just had a shower, which helped you remember what had happened between you and Cregan, and you wanted to punch yourself in the face.

You felt the urge to call your therapist and call in for an emergency session because you were feeling as if you were about to lose your mind once again. You were about to dial her until someone knocked on the door. You left your phone on the center table and you quickly went to attend the door thinking it was Helaena.

But you found Cregan on the other side.

“Cregan…” you said softly, “I-”

“I forgot my keys last night,” he said, shyly.

“Oh,” you said, a bit disappointed, but you let him in either way.

He walked past you, and you closed your eyes once you smelled his sweet cologne. You followed him towards the living room where he found his keys under the cushions of the sofa. You could only stare at him, the tension between you both was too obvious and you hated it. It felt so odd and uncomfortable, you felt guilty for it.

“Cregan, about last night-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted you, “I know I shouldn’t have done, but-” he stopped himself before looking at you with pledging eyes, “fuck, y/n, I couldn’t help it… you looked so beautiful and I just let myself go, I was drunk and I wasn’t thinking clearly-”

“You did it just because you were drunk?” you asked. Cregan tilted his head, his keys dangling between his fingers was a sign of his nervousness.

“I did it because… because I crave for you, y/n,” Cregan said, signs of despair tainting his low voice, “I can’t- I can’t help it, I can’t keep denying this. I fucking need you.”

Your breath hitched as you looked at him. His eyes were begging, and you were certain yours were too. Then you could not help it anymore, it was as if he was a big magnet that pulled you in. You quickly grabbed his cheeks, pulling him close to you as you stood on your tiptoes to finally reach his soft lips.

“W-wait,” he said between the kiss, “wait, no. Your therapist-”

“Fuck my therapist,” you interrupted him without thinking.

He pulled away, looked you in the eye as if he was trying to make sure he heard you clearly. He took a deep breath, still holding you close to his body, and he let out a breathy smile before saying,

“Fuck it.”

His lips soon reached for yours again, this time more hungry than before. It was passionate and deep, you both had been waiting too long for this moment to not seize it. His hands roaming up and down your body, desperate to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his big hands. You felt blissful, completely drunk by the taste of his lips.

Minutes later you were in your room, Cregan kissing your neck as he was now claiming you as his. Small moans left your lips while he was whispering nothing but sweet words and praises against your ear that had you drooling under his broad body. He managed to touch every inch of you, to kiss every part of your body, and you could feel your heart bursting with joy and excitement. Your mind would only focus on the man that was now yours, in how good he was making you feel… in how loved you felt between his arms.

Aemond did not even cross your mind, he had been out of it for a while now.

Few minutes later, after you both finished, Cregan looked at you with glossy eyes and a small, tender smile. He started giving you soft kisses around your flustered face while you were trying to control your breathing. This felt even better than sex, it felt more intimate and loving.

Cregan caressed your cheek, and you smiled.

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” He asked with a smirk.

You only chuckled and laughed, “I guess we are…”

He kissed you once again, and cuddled you between his arms. You wished this could last forever.

Once Helaena found out about your relationship with Cregan, she looked at you with a stern look, and, taking over her role as the mum friend between you both, she scolded you. Of course she was not mad, she was just worried about you and what might happen with your mental health if things do not go as well as you were expecting. You reassure her that you would be fine, and that Cregan was not like Aemond in any way.

The next months were blissful. Your little mental breakdown at Helaena’s birthday was now long forgotten. You were doing fine, you have moved on from Aemond completely. However, it would be unrealistic to say you don’t think about him sometimes, mostly because you're curious to know how he is doing. Sometimes you would eavesdrop when Helaena talks with him on the phone, but you would never dare to ask for him… that felt wrong.

Soon a year passed, and Helaena was organizing her birthday again. She wanted to do something small, not being such a fan of big parties. She asked you a thousand times if it would be okay to invite Aemond to the party, and you repeatedly said yes, Aemond was her brother and they have always been so close. It was her birthday, and you wanted to see her happy.

With Cregan practically living in the apartment now, the decoration took little time. He helped you both to hang stuff in the ceiling and reorganize the furniture so there will be more space.

Soon the guests, which consisted of four more friends and Helaena’s family, started to arrive. And you would not lie to yourself and say that you were not deadly nervous of seeing him again. You were scared that you might react the same way as last year. You knew you loved Cregan, but what if Aemond appears and makes you doubt everything? What if it makes you realize that you never moved on in the first place? What if you have a new mental breakdown in front of him and Cregan?

There were so many doubts in your mind that you had to sit for a while, drinking mint lemonade to remain calm. Luckily for you, Cregan did not seem to notice your nervousness, he was busy talking with some of the guests.

And when you were lost in your thoughts, Aemond walked in, but this time he was alone. He stepped into the apartment looking for his sister. You stared at him, expecting some reaction from you, but there was nothing. Nothing at all. Not even a slight tingle in your gut. You let out a heavy breath, relief and more calm.

You laughed at yourself for a moment, thinking how ridiculous you were for being so nervous about it.

“Hi, y/n.”

You froze, your body tensed as you looked up at Aemond. Your jaw clenched so hard your teeth hurt, and your smile faded slowly. You swallowed hard, and the anxiety in your body came back.

“Hi, Aemond.” you said, quickly. “Umh… Helaena might be in the kitchen.”

“I know, I saw her,” he softly nodded, curling his lips into a shy smile, “I came here because I wanted to know how you are? Helaena doesn’t give me many details.”

“You asked for me?” you spoke shocked.

“Helaena hasn’t given you my greetings?”

You shook your head, “no. She hasn’t.”

“Well, I’ve been asking for you a lot, lately… I’ve- I’ve missed you.” He says in a whisper, as if he was embarrassed to admit it. “I have also thought about you a lot.”

“Have you?” you questioned him, raising your eyebrow.

“Yes,” he nodded, “I realized how stupid I was with you and-”

“Aemond fucking Targaryen! What the hell are you doing here?”

You saw him tense as his relaxed face shifted into a rageful one. You frowned as you saw Cregan palming Aemond’s back so hard it made him tremble on his feet. You were about to open your mouth to ask what was going on, but Cregan spoke first.

“I haven’t seen you in years! Are you still jerking off with Ms. Harroway pictures?” Cregan teased him, and you widened your eyes.

“Stark.” Aemond said bitterly, his one eye looking at Cregan with an expression you have never seen before.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Cregan asked again.

“It’s my sister’s birthday.” He grunted, visibly pissed.

Cregan frowned, and you closed your eyes. You told him about Heleana’s brother in the first weeks of meeting him, but you never said his name. Perhaps you would realize that they met each other before. Now Cregan looked at you with concern, as if he was asking whether this is the brother who broke your heart.

“Wait, you’re Helaena’s brother?” He spoke in a growl.

“I am.” He nodded, unbothered, “I think the question here is why are you here?”

“It’s my girlfriend’s apartment.” Cregan said.

Aemond frowned, angry, “you’re dating Helaena?”

“No, I’m dating y/n.”

Aemond’s face fell with an indescribable rage. You didn’t notice it, for you were too busy trying to have an answer from Cregan about how they both met. Aemond was burning, his blood boiling as he heard you excusing yourself and saw you walking away with your new boyfriend.

He hated it. He hated seeing you with someone else being so happy and blissful. A year ago you were still waiting for him, you were still dreaming about getting back with him, but now you had moved one and fucked another man… and the fact that it was Cregan Stark made it even worse.

The same Cregan Stark that made Aemond be the second best in everything at school. No matter how hard he tried, how many nights he would spend studying for a test or training for the school Tourneys, Cregan would always beat him. He was Aemond’s biggest nightmare, and now, somehow, he managed to have you. Once again, Aemond lost to Cregan.

Perhaps it was the fact that it was him the one that was kissing you right in front of him, perhaps it was the fact that his ex left him for another man two months ago, or perhaps it was the pettines inside of him, but he was drunk in madness now. He wanted to pull you away from him and break his face.

He saw how he grabbed your waist in the same way he did once, he saw you looking at him with devotion and love as you spoke, making him smile. You were clearly in love with one another, and Aemond could not handle it. He hated it. You should be begging him to get back together, to be with him again. You should be watching him the same way you were watching Cregan.

You should be with him. Not with Cregan.

As the evening went by, things were getting worse for the silver haired man. He had not stopped staring at you during the whole party; each movement, each word and each breath you took were under a stare filled with hate and anger, filled with spite. Aemond would be unable to take his eyes off of you, and with each minute passing by, he would get more and more mad.

He remembered how soft your skin was, how gently you would kiss him and touch him, how beautiful your laugh was. He remembered your scent, your delicacy and playful stares. He would also remember the way you felt against his skin, the way you would squirm under his touch and how your soft moans would be silenced by his kisses.

At that point in the night, he knew he had to have you back. You were his once, and will be his again, he would make sure of it. He wanted you to be desperate for his touch once more, he wanted all your attention and love for him. Only for him.

He was the only one worthy of your love. How did you even dare trying to find another man when he is all that you need?

A hand on his shoulder made him wake up from his trance. He soon recognized the voice of Cregan buzzing in his ears; “I’ve seen you staring at her the whole night,” Cregan grunted, trying to sound calm, “leave her alone, you’ve caused her enough misery already.”

Aemond scoffed, and his daring voice came out, “and who are you to tell me what I have to do?”

“Don’t be a fucking asshole, man. You didn’t appreciate her when you had her, now she is happy. She’s with me, leave her alone.”

He clicked his tongue as a smug grin started to appear on his face, “I made her fall in love with me once, I know that as soon as I speak to her she will be eating from the palm of my hand once again.”

Cregan clenched his jaw after hearing him speaking about you that way. He breathed deep a few times trying to maintain his composure, not wanting to start an unnecessary fight on Helaena’s birthday. Instead, he just let out a breathy laugh and say,

“Look, she moved on… perhaps you should move on too and stop being so obsessed with her.”

Aemond tensed hearing those words. He remembered them too well. The fact that Cregan knew them too was proof enough to know that you had told him all of it, and that was the last straw; what he needed to explode.

In a blink Aemond punched Cregan and cut his cheekbone with his rings. You were coming out of the kitchen with a platter of cookies when you saw them pushing each other. Aemond was beating Cregan while the last one was trying to defend himself instead of punching back. Your heart sank as you heard the guests’ gasp. Alicent was the first one to react, trying to make the both men stop.

Aemond did not hear his mother screaming, he did not hear your pleas. He certainly did not feel Aegon pulling his shirt. His eyes were only seeing red as his hand was still beating Cregan. He thought about not stopping until killing him, to get him out of the way so he would get back to you. Cregan was an obstacle on his path back to you, and he wanted to get rid of it.

His mind was blind with the adrenaline of the moment, too filled with rage to even realize what was happening, and all his negative emotions became even worse when Cregan gave him a punch back. It was not until a group of three men pulled him back that he finally stopped.

He was breathing fast, looking bewildered by his own actions. He looked around, he saw you running towards Cregan as you worryingly held his bloody face. He frowned; you should be comforting him, not Cregan.

Soon Alicent stepped in, grasping Aemond’s arm strong enough to force him to look at her, “What the hell were you thinking?!” She scolded him.

He did not answer to his mother, instead, he looked at you. You were already staring at him with disbelief, and a bit of anger. You shook your head slightly as you were helping Cregan to go to your room in order to heal his wounds.

Aemond clenched his hands, and he breathed heavily. He will have to find another way to make you his again, because killing your new boyfriend was not the best idea.

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nicksnosering · 2 months

Text

I Hate Myself For Loving You Pt. 3

PT 1 PT 2

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The night air was cool and biting against the wetness trailing down my inner thighs, and I marveled in the freedom I felt from such an uncharacteristically bold move I’d made.

My phone buzzed in my purse, and I let it ring out three times before finally picking up on the fourth call.

I didn’t get the chance to say hello before I heard him yelling in my ear.

“What the fuck? You’re actually fucking kidding me. My brother? You’re disgusting. You’re actually the most despicable human being alive—“

He kept going for another few minutes until I heard the sound of him breathing angrily into the phone, signaling he was done.

“Alright, Chris. I’ll level with you. Yeah, maybe me hooking up with your brother wasn’t exactly the nicest thing I could’ve done, but you and I both know you’re not stupid enough to be confused about why I did it.”

My heels clicked against the sidewalk as I walked, punctuating my sentence for me. I’d never felt so liberated, so free, so—

“I hope it was worth it considering I’m never going to touch you again.”

My heart fell to my stomach.

Of course I’d wanted to make him mad. I’d wanted to see him seething, undeniably jealous and unable to hold back from admitting it any longer. He loved me the way I loved him, I know he did. Does.

With the alcohol still coursing through my system, my mouth opened before my brain could catch up, my words coming out far bolder than they’d usually be.

“I’d never want you to touch me again.”

He scoffed. “I’ll level with you,” he sneered, throwing my words back in my face. “Your slutty little ass can’t stay away for longer than a day, maybe two if you’re feeling especially bitchy right now. I need you to listen to me, because I’m only saying this once. I’m not coming back this time. When you call me crying because you realize how badly you fucked up, I can promise you I won’t pick up. So you better pray to God it was worth it, because I am not going to fuck you. Ever. Again.”

A laugh bubbled up out of my throat, my head swimming slightly as his words only really half sunk in. My eyes rolled and I shook my head as a grin crept its way onto my face.

“See you soon, Chris.”

——————

Once I was inside my front door, I kicked off my heels and headed straight for bed, not bothering to get out of my dress or take off my makeup. Tonight was exhausting, and I could already feel the headache starting to come on, signaling a raging hangover in the morning.

I’d almost been asleep when my phone started buzzing again. My heart lurched, shocked that he’d given up so quickly and was already reaching back out.

Except it wasn’t him.

“Hello?” I said, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Hey,” Matt breathed out. “I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. I couldn’t find you anywhere when I went back downstairs, so I assume you and your friends must’ve left.”

I smiled softly and warmth spread throughout my body. “Yeah, I’m home. Thank you for checking, that’s really sweet of you. Did you make it back okay?”

“Yeah, walking through my front door now. I’m sorry again about Chris, he’s not usually that…”

“Intense?” I supplied.

“We’ll go with that. Anyway, I just wanted to call and check in on you. I also wanted to say that I had a great time tonight, and I’d love to see you again if you’re up for it.”

The gears in my mind started turning, still feeling half-tipsy and fully spiteful. “Actually, I’m off work tomorrow, and I’ll probably be up for a few more hours anyway. You’re welcome to come over and continue the party here.”

“Oh,” he said, an air of surprise to his tone. “Um, yeah. That sounds good. Text me your address?”

“See you soon.”

I sent over the details and swiftly threw off the covers, climbing out of bed and heading straight for the bathroom. My reflection was rough. There was eyeliner smudged in rings around my eyes, and my hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days.

When I heard the first knock at the door, I’d managed to wash my face and get my hair under control, swapping my dress for some sweatpants and a tank top in an effort to look sexily indifferent.

I swing the door open to reveal Matt, still dressed in the same clothes he was in at the party. I suppress a grin at the thought of him rushing out of the door after our phone call and step aside to let him in.

“Hey,” he says, a soft smile on his face as he steps through the threshold into my apartment.

“Hey,” I respond.

He follows me into the kitchen, and I pull a bottle of cheap vodka out of the fridge, setting it on the counter as I look for two shot glasses. “Feel like keeping up the buzz?” I call over my shoulder.

“Oh, always.”

I pour us two shots and we both slam them quickly, shivering as the rubbing alcohol taste sets in. “Sorry, I only buy the cheap shit.”

“All good,” he smiles, stacking our empty shot glasses and leaning forward on the countertop. “This is a nice place.”

I glance around at my cheap one-bedroom apartment, taking in the chipping paint on the walls and the out of date shag carpet that’s peeling up at the corners of the living room. I turn back to him with a raised eyebrow. “No it’s not. This place is a shithole.”

He laughs loudly, raising his shoulders in apology. “Sorry, just trying to break the ice and make conversation. It was the first thing that came to mind.”

“Real smooth,” I tease, circling the countertop and coming to stand next to him. “Who says we need conversation?”

He takes my not-so-subtle hint, wrapping his arms around my waist and giving me a gentle smile before leaning in and softly capturing my lips with his own.

Matt could not be more different from his brother. Chris is all rough grabs and harsh teeth and aiming to get to his end goal, whereas Matt is more soft touches and gentle kisses and putting your needs before his own.

I can’t help but wonder if there’s a way to meet in the middle.

His tongue lightly traces over my neck, placing a soft kiss just below my ear before sucking gently, like he’s scared to leave a mark. My fingers come up to wind into his hair, pulling gently and reveling in the low moan he produces before sucking a little harder.

I inhale sharply when he leans back and blows, the cool air sending a rush of goosebumps down my spine. His hand starts slipping lower on my body, finding the waistband of my sweats and pushing inside. His fingers swirl over the crotch of my panties, and he pushes them aside to rub lightly over my clit, the sensation sparking all of my nerve ending and causing me to arch forward into his touch.

“Fuck, Matt,” I whisper as I dip my head and rest it against his shoulder, gripping his bicep to ensure his arm stays in place. He takes it a sign to speed up, fingers brushing exactly where they need to, and I let out a small whine, wrapping my arm around the back of his neck and entangling my hand in the soft hairs there.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” he whispers back, and he slips forward and sinks two fingers into me quickly, pumping them in and out at a slow pace, fingers crooking in the perfect spot with every thrust.

I can hear myself panting and moaning loudly as he works, and I look up and make eye contact, taken completely aback by his features.

There’s a soft smile on his face and a caring light in his eyes, and he just looks so… soft. Like he gives a fuck how I’m feeling. If this is good for me. It’s overwhelming and devastating all at once, and I can’t stop myself from thinking that this must be how Chris would look if he let down his guard and was fully open with me.

My heart twinges painfully in my chest, and I feel slightly guilty for still comparing the two when I should be solely focused on Matt, but these past five months of emotional torture that Chris has been putting me through are embedded in my brain. I can’t seem to separate the two of them no matter how hard I try.

Another precise curl of his fingers causing me to come soaring back to reality, and I lean in to kiss him again, needing to feel his emotions rather than seeing them. The kiss is sloppy, breaking apart each time I pant or moan again, and he moves to place small kisses on my cheek, on my eyelid, on my forehead.

Just as I feel like I’m about to burst into tears from the sheer kindness of his actions, he pulls out and grabs the back of my thighs, picking me up and placing another small kiss on my lips. “Bedroom?” he asks.

“Through the living room, to the right.”

He caries me through my apartment, pushing open the door with his knee and walking inside before laying me gently on the bed. His hands slide down to the waistband of my sweats again, and he hooks two fingers inside, glancing up at me for confirmation. I nod gently and he slides them off my body along with my underwear before climbing onto the bed with me. He hovers over me and reaches up to remove my shirt, leaving me bare and exposed in front of him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, running his hands along my body in a way that’s far from sexual. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, trying to memorize every curve and dip and the softness of my skin. Like he’s praising me. Worshipping me.

I can’t take it any longer, and I yank his shirt over his head and reach down to tear open the button on his jeans, but his hands come down to stop me. I look up in question, and he laughs a little. “Slow down, sweetheart. We don’t need to rush through this, I want to take my time.”

The air leaves my body at his words, watching in a daze as he slides his pants and boxers off in one fluid motion. He leans back over me, head ducking down and tongue flicking out lightly over my nipple. I shiver and moan slightly as he slides his way down to between my thighs, and immediately sets to work lapping at my clit. His fingers come back up to slide into me and my hand flies down to his hair, gripping it tightly as I arch my back off the bed.

“God, yes. That feels so good,” I whine, digging my heels into the bed and scooting forward, trying to push him further inside me. His fingers begin to scissor slightly, and I feel my legs start to shake, so close to the edge but refusing to let myself fall over it yet. “Matt, please. Please, I need you inside me.”

His head pops up and a grin overtakes his face at my begging, but his fingers continue to work inside of me, twisting and arching and making me fall apart beneath him. He pulls them out and rubs slow, lazy circles over my core, watching me intensely. “You sure?”

“Yes, fuck. Please, Matt,” I say, moving my hand to his shoulder and trying to pull him up. He stays rooted where he is and gives me a wink, maintaining eye contact as he leans down and licks a flat stripe over me again.

It’s almost too much, and I let out a mix of a whine and a whimper, trying to pull back. His hands hook under my thighs, pulling me closer and keeping me firmly where I am. He blows again, the rush of air breezing over my clit and I feel my stomach muscles tense. “Matt,” I whine again.

“Okay, okay.” He relents, pulling himself up to settle over me. I feel his tip pressing against my entrance and he leans down, placing another kiss on my forehead before pushing in slowly. I gasp at the feeling, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist and arching up to try to take him in more. “Slow, baby. I want you to feel it all.”

I can’t even form words at this point, utterly wrecked under him from the anticipation. I feel each slow, excruciating inch push in until he’s settled at the hilt, and he pulls back out just as slow before sliding back in. I’ve never been treated so tenderly, and I feel simultaneously too cold and too hot with the way his gaze trails over my face, searching for any sign of discomfort.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, continuing his gentle pace. “Just like that.”

I finally give in, relaxing my entire body and simply allowing myself to feel. His head drops down to nestle against my neck, switching between light sucking and simply pressing his lips there, and I hear my phone buzz on my nightstand. He doesn’t pay it any mind, and I reach over to find Chris’s contact name lighting it up.

I knew he’d give in.

I ignore the text and opt for calling him instead, discarding my phone back on my nightstand as it rings. I watch the screen go black, signaling he picked up, and wrap my arms around Matt’s neck.

“Fuck, Matt. You feel so good,” I moan.

“You sound so pretty, baby. Keep saying my name,” he responds, picking up speed with his thrusts.

My body arches up into his and I pull his hair slightly, making him groan and dig his fingers into my hips. “Harder, Matt, please,” I choke out, turning to suck a spot onto his neck. The thought of him going home and Chris seeing it fuels me along with his noises, and he starts to pound into me mercilessly.

I’m holding on by a thread, and I can feel his legs shaking, a clear signal that he is too. “Cum for me, Matt,” I moan, and we both unravel together, my high-pitched whining turning into a near scream as he mumbles sweet words into my ear.

“Fuck, yes. God, I could stay here forever,” he says, nipping at my earlobe as we both come down. “Your body is so perfect. You’re so beautiful.”

I lean up and press our lips together, sealing his words into my mouth. We lay intertwined, sweaty and panting, and he rubs light circles over my back as his other hand runs its fingers through my hair. I’ve never felt so content after sex, and it’s a feeling I could quickly get used to.

I lean over to check my phone screen and see the call has ended, as well as six new text messages having come in. I flip it over and cuddle back into Matt, placing light kisses on his torso as we start to drift into sleep together.

Chris can wait.

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