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#like how did that little strand of hair curl like that??
eyesthatroll · 18 hours
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lilac, quinn hughes
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fem!reader / established relationship / 0.9k words
"How do I look?" you ask, descending the last few steps of the stairwell. The sound of your heels clicking softly on the wooden steps draws Quinn's attention away from his phone. He glances up and his eyes widen, his phone forgotten as it slips from his grasp and lands with a soft thud on the carpet. For a moment, he just stands there, mouth agape, struggling to find words, his expression a mix of surprise and admiration.
"Wow.. you-you look phenomenal." His voice is barely more than a whisper, filled with genuine admiration. You can't help but roll your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you shake your head slightly. Phenomenal? Maybe not, but you did feel a little more beautiful today. You had taken extra care with your makeup, experimenting with shades of lavender and soft pink to complement your lilac, flowery sundress. The delicate fabric swayed gently with each movement, catching the light in a way that made the floral patterns seem almost alive. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was a departure from your usual style, and it made you feel special.
"Stop it." Heat blooms across your cheeks, spreading like wildfire as Quinn closes the distance between you in a few swift strides. His hands trace a delicate path along the fabric of your dress, his touch barely grazing the intricate patterns before settling gently at your waist.
"You are so insanely gorgeous," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "How'd I land such a pretty girl?" His words are innocent, honest, but the intensity behind them makes your heart flutter. The sincerity in his eyes, the way his fingers curl around your waist, anchoring you to the moment, all contribute to the rush of genuine happiness that floods through you.
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, attempting to stifle an even bigger smile. "You look gorgeous too, Quinn,"
He huffs playfully, rolling his eyes in a teasing mimicry of your earlier gesture. "Oh yeah?" he asks, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
You reach up, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his mint green satin dress shirt. The fabric feels cool and luxurious under your touch as you adjust his collar, smoothing out a barely visible wrinkle. The gentle scent of his cologne, a subtle blend of cedarwood and citrus, fills the small space between you, and you inhale a deep breath of it before speaking. "Mhm," you nod, your eyes locking with his again. "So handsome."
He looked so pretty in mint green. You always loved seeing him in pastel colors; they brought out the warmth in his complexion and offered a refreshing change from the same old black suit he often wore. His shirt shimmered softly under the light, emphasizing the depth of his hazel eyes and the relaxed charm he exuded when dressed up.
His hair had grown longer since the end of the playoffs. The once neatly trimmed style was now replaced by a cascade of messy curls that framed his face, softening his features and adding back a boyish charm, ending just at the nape of his neck. Your fingers reach up instinctively, tangling into the deep brown tresses. You gave a gentle tug, feeling the silky strands slip between your fingers, and he draws closer with a content sigh.
"Will it mess up your makeup if I kiss you?" He asks, despite already knowing the answer, with a longing within his voice, as if seeing each other for the first time in years.
You let out a laugh. "Yes."
He lets out a dramatic groan, head falling into your shoulder, more akin to a boy denied his favorite treat than a grown man. "Just one?" he pouts.
You roll your eyes, knowing all too well that with him, it was never 'just one.' 'Just one' always turned into 'just five minutes,' which inevitably became 'fuck, I'm late.' Today, you couldn't afford to be late. Both of you had semi-important roles in the wedding, you as a bridesmaid and him as a groomsman. "On the cheek," you compromise.
He shoots you a pointed look, and you raise your brows, a silent challenge passing between you before he finally relents with a sigh. "Fine." He agrees begrudgingly, mirth in his tone.
Smiling at him, you tilt your head and lean up on your tiptoes, closing the distance between the two of you. You press a delicate kiss onto his cheek, the shade leaving a pale imprint behind. As you pull away, a teasing glint sparkles in your eyes. "Oops, you got a little somethin' there," you comment with a playful smirk, your gaze lingering on the faint lipstick stain now adorning his cheek.
"Leave it," he responds, his voice light, but with a hint of possessiveness. "Let everyone know I belong to you."
A sudden chill rushes through your body, sending a shiver down your spine. Though you recognize the playful tone in his words, a surge of pride swells within you at the notion of everyone at the wedding knowing he's yours, marked by a simple yet tangible reminder.
"Let's go, before I accidentally rip your pants off," you exhale.
He barks out laughter, a warm melody that fills the air around you, easing the tension that had briefly settled between you. He might be laughing, but you weren't joking.
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Baldwin x reader where he brushes and braids her hair before bed.
♡ Your Touch - King Baldwin x Reader ♡
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♡ Fluff ♡
A/N: Hello Anon, thank you for this cute little request! As always, this is based on the film Kindgom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!
P.S: EXAMS ARE FINALLY OVER!!!
TW: Leprosy
Baldwin returned to his chambers for the night as he did every evening.
The day had been surprisingly peaceful and he was looking forward to spending a quiet evening with his beloved y/n. He entered the room to find the young queen sitting at her vanity, running an ivory brush through her beautiful, long hair.
A soft sigh escaped his lips, his body relaxing at just the sight of her. As if sensing his presence, y/n turned around to look at her husband, a small smile crossing her face.
“How was your day my love?” she asked in a soothing tone, standing to greet him. “Quite alright angel, but I'm glad to be back with you” he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his forehead against her neck.
The cool metal of his mask against her skin was pleasant, as was the feeling of him melting into her embrace. “Go lay down sweetheart, I'll be right with you. I just need to finish with my hair” she told him, pulling away slowly, not wanting to let go of his warm body.
“Could I do your hair myself?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. Like a curious dog she had thought. Y/n smiled at his request, “of course you can” she answered. 
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Y/n returned to her place at the vanity, handing him the brush. As gently as possible, Baldwin began to run the brush through her hair. His touch was so careful and soft, his affection was just wonderful. It always was.
Y/n treasured the times of intimacy she had with her beautiful husband. He always knew how to make every second perfect. She closed her eyes momentarily, relishing in the sensation of his touch.
The brush going through her silky hair mesmerized the young king. Y/n always took such amazing care of her appearance and her hair was no exception. So soft and smooth. Never a single strand out of place, even in the mornings. Unlike his hair, which was almost always messy and uncontrollable. Mostly on account of the veil which had a tendency to flatten his hair down, causing it to stick out in all strange positions when he removed his headpiece. Never hers though.
Her hair smelt like lavender oil, the scent was so soothing to him. He always smelt it whenever he hugged her. 
Once he finished brushing her hair, he began braiding it slowly so as to make it as neat as possible.
His sister had taught him to braid hair when he was young. She told him that he “would need it for when he had daughters or a beautiful wife”. She was right about one of those things.
Once completed, y/n handed him a thin, white ribbon for him to tie it off. As best as he could with gloves on his hands, Baldwin tied the ribbon into a bow at the end of the braid. 
He smiled at his work behind the mask. “Thank you my love” y/n said quietly, standing to wrap him in a warm embrace. “Shall we lay down now?” she offered. “Yes please” the young king said through a soft yawn, suddenly very tired. 
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The two climbed under the covers of the large bed as Baldwin removed his mask, placing it on the nightstand.
He buried himself into the warmth of the bed as y/n wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to close whatever gap was already there.
“I love you so much, y/n” Baldwin mumbled against her chest. “I love you too my darling” y/n replied, running her fingers through his golden curls.
He loved her so much, there was no doubting it. There was nothing better than feeling her soft, warm skin against his. Despite the lack of sensation, the knowledge that she was there holding him was enough to make his heart melt.
It still confused him that someone so beautiful and perfect would agree to marry somebody such as him. A leper, deserving of nothing more than a life out in the streets with all the other filth, but here in these walls, he was loved. Cherished and doted on by such a kind soul.
He could not possibly be more grateful for her. He would do anything for her and she would do anything for him.
Despite his thoughts, Baldwin was the most important thing in the young queen's life. She adored him just as much as he adored her. He was everything to her and the thought of him one day not being in her life sickened her.
But for now, the two would enjoy moments such as these. Just laying in eachothers arms, enjoying the silence of the night and each other's warmth. There is nowhere either of them would rather be.
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sonkitty · 2 days
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Crowley S2 Hair Post #66
(For reference: The Sideburns Scheme)
Crowley, Good Omens 2, Episode 5, The Ball, depending
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Sideburns Check
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The sideburns are short. The Single of The Bigger Thresholds Trick is done. The rest of the ball invitations still have to be done, so the sideburns will remain short until Crowley confronts Gabriel later.
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Brighter Red Streak Check
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The streak is difficult to find, but I think I found it here, just before Aziraphale crosses past Crowley as they approach the sidewalk in front of Maggie's shop.
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Hairstyle Changes
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The sideburns have shortened. The hair is more red in the sunlight. More curls in the top hair have returned.
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Earthly Objects
(For reference: Earthly Objects | The Ball Invitations Checklist)
Aziraphale has the clipboard and pen. Crowley has a question with, "You just did what I think you did?"
Both of them cross the street together, including crossing over the threshold that is the edge of the sidewalk. Aziraphale crosses first with Crowley hurrying behind, briefly passing him before they reach the likely next edge of a sidewalk.
Aziraphale says the names, "Maggie" and "Nina."
For paying attention to the pockets...
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The Tied Hands are retied...and then, I don't know what's going on. They could be doing something more or showing how they stay tied because of Crowley being understood to cross the street, which includes crossing over the threshold that is the edge of the sidewalk.
Copied and pasted from my recent post on the Double of The Pocket Trick.
Below is a log of what that entails, for reference.
Crowley has his right index finger extended. His left index finger is probably also extended, but it's blurred. The left hand brushes up against Crowley's jacket. At the same time, the back of Crowley's right shoe is blurry but also visible.
While the watch is visible, the face of the watch is not as clear as what usually happens during retying.
Crowley rushes to pass Aziraphale, placing himself on the "wrong" side.
Then the tie strands swing such that the strand closest to Crowley's left hits his lapel, but it's not a clasp. It's actually an upper part of the strand below the knot.
The strands swing to Crowley's right, and there is an implied strike that could be happening on a lapel edge that the camera cannot see.
After that, the tassel, or thumb, of the right-most strand shifts up enough to be seen.
The tie strands spread apart with the left-most one then indeed having a clasp touching a lapel edge. However, it's only the upper part of the clasp that's visible.
Then this strand swings to Crowley's right, showing a little of that clasp yet again with another implied or very-difficult-to-confirm strike on a lapel edge.
The tie strands spread yet again...and then cross just before Aziraphale and Crowley would finish crossing the street. The camera cuts away and does not confirm that their shoes reached the next sidewalk.
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This part could be a word puzzle since we've seen a few, but I don't know the phrase I'm looking for. I've mainly noticed they are "crossing the street," and the strands "cross" at the end.
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Crowley's Overhead Light from earlier is visually pocketed between him and Aziraphale as the scene starts. That light ends up on Crowley's left, and Aziraphale's right, above ears. Interestingly, that happens as they start the scene on their "wrong" sides. Soon after, it does end up on Aziraphale's left.
They switch to being on their "correct" sides as they start to cross the street, and Crowley has his index fingers extended.
Then he passes Aziraphale, so there's a switch back to the "wrong" sides.
As the scene ends, Aziraphale passes up Crowley. If that's the "wrong" or "correct" side depends on how technical one wishes to get about what qualifies, and I don't have the energy for it. Aziraphale switched on purpose, probably, so I'll go with thinking he has the technicalities considered if he is aiming for the "correct" side by the end of the cut.
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Various humans are using pockets in the background.
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Story Commentary
If the Tied Hands have personalities, they are excited here. They are so cute. They confuse me, but I still think they are cute and amusing.
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I keep forgetting to note the times I do find the red on the back collar area of Crowley's jacket, but I'm remembering this time. It can be found if one takes the time to look.
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One of the locations on the list is, "Lucky Snake." Crowley's a snake demon. As for how "lucky" he is, that's debatable.
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This scene takes the time to show the Bentley and that the Bentley has the plants in the car.
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This part is more for an assumption on what's about to happen between this scene and the next.
Once upon a time, I saw a post somewhere mentioning that Maggie could enter the bookshop without an invitation. I didn't bookmark it, just sort of filed it away in my head that such a comment was made.
In case you truly do not know, Maggie does get an invitation.
Not every invitation is shown on camera, but the story actually gives us clues for when Maggie was invited, even if we didn't see it on camera.
The name of Maggie's shop is The Small Back Room.
The second location on Aziraphale's list is "Backroom," though there is some noticeable space between "c" and "k," then "r" and the first "o".
Still, the "Backroom" is referring to Maggie's shop.
We can figure that out because in this scene here, Maggie's shop is visible in the background while Crowley and Aziraphale talk about what Aziraphale just did with giving away the book.
Then they cross the street toward Maggie's shop.
The camera stops shy of showing the record shop again after they've passed the car.
The episode cuts away to another Shax scene as she talks with Furfur.
The third location on Aziraphale's list is "Goldstone's," which is the location he and Crowley will visit after that Shax scene.
Aziraphale is going down the list.
So, Maggie was invited second, and the invitation was not shown on camera.
...
That's it for this post. Sometimes I edit my posts, FYI.
...
Main post:
The Sideburns Scheme
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vodika-vibes · 1 day
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Hey! I know he's a bit of a rare clone, but would you consider writing for maze? he's from the repcomm books and is endearingly (Imo) professional and surly 👉👈
Not That Hard
Summary: When one story ends, another one begins. Maze, formerly a Republic Soldier, is now a bounty hunter. He’s used to things being orderly, everything has a place, and everything should be in its place. So when he ends up locked in a small cell with the woman he’s been searching for, a woman who’s been missing for three weeks, he knows that everything is about to be turned on its head.
Pairing: Pre Maze (Alpha-26) x F!Reader
Word Count: 1722
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: So, I've never written Maze before, but I'm always happy to write any of the Alphas, or any star wars character. His page on Wookieepedia wasn't the best, but I did the best I could. I hope you like it! Also, I've been watching a lot of Numb3rs, so that's where the basic idea of this came from.
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Maze leans back against the stone wall, his gaze drifting from the woman sleeping on the singular cot in the cell to the door, and then back again. He’s glad that she’s asleep. He wasn’t sure that she would fall asleep, honestly.
He leans over and tugs the thin blanket a little higher over her shoulders. The blanket won’t do much to keep the cold out, it’s too thin, but it’s enough that she can sleep.
Three weeks ago the University of Theeds reached out to him, telling him that one of their Teachers had gone missing. They said to him that someone had broken into her home, torn the place to pieces, and taken her.
The University hired him to find her since he was something of an expert on finding people.
The fact that she’s alive is a damned miracle, in his opinion. After three weeks, statistics indicate that he should have found her in a ditch somewhere.
He’s never been so glad to be wrong in his life.
Still, the fact that they haven’t killed her suggests that they want something from her. Maze shifts so that he’s sitting on the cot beside her, tired of sitting on the ground.
He needs to think.
Why would someone want a University Professor?
Absently, Maze brushes a strand of hair off her face as he thinks about what he knows about her.
She’s young, barely brushing 25 years old. She’s an only child. Her mom died from heart disease when she was a child, her dad recently retired to a lake house. There’s no other family.
She’s single, and her only friends are people who work at the University with her. Honestly, it sounds like a lonely life to him, but according to her colleagues and friends, she’s seemed lonely or unhappy.
He can respect that.
Maze’s eyes snap to her face as she releases a quiet noise and shifts on the cot, seemingly to curl into his warmth while also opening her eyes. “You should go back to sleep, Professor. It’s early.” He says quietly.
She sighs and shakes her head, “No point. They’re going to be coming soon.” Slowly, she sits up and shifts so she’s able to press her face against his shoulder. 
“What do they want?” Maze asks, mentally kicking himself for not asking her earlier. But then, her injuries were pretty severe. It makes sense that he would put that aside.
“I’m a Bio-Engineer.” She replies tiredly, “They want me to tell them how to break into BioGen.”
“Why?”
“BioGen’s biggest thing is weaponizing viruses.”
Maze stiffens and his gaze snaps to her face, “BioWeapons are illegal. Even in the Empire.”
“They weaponize them so that they can try and develop cures for them. It’s all legal and above board.” She reassures, “Even in the Empire.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“A Tenured Professorship at the University of Theeds is a great honor, not to mention it pays very well.” She replies, “It made sense, career-wise.”
“Only there’s a lot less security at the University compared to a Biomedical facility.”
She huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, there is that.” She shifts her head slightly, “But this has never happened before. Ever. People leave BioGen all of the time.”
“And you’re the first one kidnapped?”
“That I know of.”
There are heavy footsteps from the hall and Maze shifts so that his body is shielding hers. The door slams open and three men step into the room.
They’re not big men, if Maze were to stand, he’d tower over them. It burns him up that he allowed men like them to capture him so he would be able to find the professor. 
“Professor,” One of the men stalks towards Maze, and he feels her shrink down behind him, “Come on, girl. Are we really going to do this? All you gotta do is give us the information, and then you’ll both go free.”
“Don’t lie. We all know that the moment she tells you what you want to know, you’ll kill her.” Maze growls out.
The man laughs, “Well, it’ll be a quick death, rather than this slow, dragged-out death.”
Behind him, the Professor trembles. 
“Is this all of you? Just three men?”
“We still caught you, clone.” One of the other men sneers, “Grab the Professor—”
The first man reaches to grab the Professor, only for Maze to move, swiftly breaking the man’s arm, and slamming his head against the wall, causing him to crumple to the floor.
“Get low, Professor.” Maze orders as he stands and advances on the two remaining men. He doesn’t wait to see if she’s following his direction, as he suddenly has two furious men to contend with.
Unfortunately for them, he’s an Alpha Class clone, and they’re unarmed.
The fight can’t even be called a proper fight. The two remaining kidnappers go down with several well-placed hits, and Maze tosses them into the cell while motioning for the Professor to join him.
“We’re leaving,” Maze says to the woman as he holds his hand out for her.
Nervously she nods and takes his hand, “Where are we going?”
“Well, it was the University who hired me.” Maze replies as he peeks into the hall, and then leads her out of the cell as soon as he notes that it’s safe.
“Um—”
Maze stops and looks at her, “What’s wrong?”
“Just…did they seem smart enough to come up with this on their own?”
Maze stares at her for a long time, and then he sighs, “No. They didn’t.” He’s quiet for a moment, “Alright, there must be something here to indicate who hired them. Follow me.”
Maze leads abruptly turns down a side hallway and leads her into a much larger room. There are computers, though they seem largely untouched. It looks like the kidnappers were more concerned with the games that were playing on the four holos lined up next to each other than the computers.
There are three couches, each other them surrounded by empty bottles and empty pizza boxes. 
“Well,” Maze notes as he steps around a pile of trash, “Criminal Genuises they are not.”
The Professor peers at a holo-board next to the couches, “It looks like they have a gambling problem.”
“Lucky for us. It means they probably didn’t delete anything.” Maze walks over to the computers, “Stay close, Professor.”
“Ah…Sorry.” She hurries to his side and peeks around him at the monitors.
Maze flashes a small smile at her and then focuses on the computers. “Hey, Professor?”
“Yes?”
“How’d they grab you?”
“I was heading home from a day of classes, and they ran me off the road.” She replies.
“You were driving yourself.”
“Yeah.”
“Does anyone know your route home?”
“I mean, there’s only one road off of the main campus,” She replies, “But I generally don’t know what route I’m taking home until I get in the car. It depends on the traffic and if I need to go grocery shopping.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone your plans for the evening when you were taken?” Maze asks as he scans something on the screen.
“No. No one.”
“It looks like our violent friends were hired by Levi Kelley. At least, that’s who paid them.”
“Levi Kelley?”
“You know him?”
“Yeah, he’s the head of the Biology Department at the University. I thought you said the University hired you?”
“Yeah, the Dean hired me. This Levi person, is he your supervisor?”
“No. I mean, he thinks that he is, but we’re on the same level.”
“Are you friends?”
“I’ve always been a bit…ambivalent towards him. He’s a good teacher, but he’s kind of a terrible person. Racist, sexist, the whole shebang.” 
“And he works at a University?”
“He’s a very good teacher. But he lost his tenure last year.”
“For what?”
“Academic misconduct, according to the rumors.” She leans against his side, exhausted, “The only person who knows the truth would be the Dean.”
“So it’s revenge.” Maze murmurs, “Use you to get an incurable virus, and release it on the school. Did you tell them anything?”
“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”
“They tortured you, Professor. No one would blame you if you did.”
“I’m telling you, I didn’t. I left Biogen two years ago, Maze. I don’t remember any passwords or door codes. And they removed my biometrics from their system on my last day. I swear it.”
“Okay.” Maze lightly pushes some of her hair out of her face, “So they need someone else, a current employee.”
“Yeah, it’s the only way to get inside.”
“Alright. Let’s get out of here and alert the authorities. And get you some medical attention.”
“Yes please.”
Maze lightly presses his hand against the small of her back, guiding her towards the door, “I have one more question, Professor.”
“Go ahead?”
“When my brothers and I were decanted, we were given enhanced aging.”
“Yes, it was the only way for the Kaminoans to get a viable army in 10 years.” She replies.
“Yeah, you think you can reverse it?”
“Reverse it?” She repeats, sounding more thoughtful than surprised. Maze watches as she absently scratches at a deep gash on her cheek, “I don’t know about reversing it,” She finally says, “but I might be able to cure it. With enough blood samples.”
“Really?”
“Well sure, it’s not that hard. It’s just gene manipulation.” She frowns at him thoughtfully, “Look, all the information I need is here,” she lightly taps his chest, “The more of your brothers I can get blood samples from, the easier it’ll be to make a cure.”
“Can you do it at the University while also teaching?”
“I mean, sure. But the University of Theeds is funded by the Emperor. I’m guessing you don’t want the Empire to know about it.”
“No, I don’t.” Maze replies.
She’s quiet for a moment, “Find me a place to work, off of Naboo, and I can help you.”
“If you can cure this, I might just kiss you,” Maze says with a sly smile.
Her face heats and she won’t look at him, “Well, that seems a bit excessive,” She mumbles.
She squeaks when he lightly drapes his arm over her shoulder and tugs her against his side, “No. It isn’t. Come on, Professor. Let’s get you safe.”
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iheartjameshetfield · 7 months
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babygirl 🫶🫶
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atsuwumus · 4 months
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ᥫ᭡ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐒 . . .
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๋࣭⭑ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : mature content, minors dni 18+ only. sub! deepspace men, slight hair pulling, begging, bondage, teasing, blind folding. um... did I forget something??? xavier's is a little nasty eheh (≖ᴗ≖ ✿)
๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : teehee ... (๑﹏๑//) something no one asked for but I couldn't shake this from my brain. will be writing a dom version for this idea as well!! erm... not proofread so if you find a mistake no you don't
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𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 : "You know the rules. No touching."
Something vibrates from deep within Zayne's chest and it sounds far too close to a moan than anything else. This is torture, he thinks, watching through a heavy lidded gaze as you ever so slowly shed another layer of clothing. You've been subjecting him to this teasing abuse for almost half an hour now, swaying your hips to the low beat coming from his stereo, prancing around him in nothing but a pair of panties and lingerie he was just itching to rip off.
"You're quite the vixen tonight, aren't you?" he murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending ice curling through your veins, a low and pleasant sound that only beckons you closer to him until you're right in his trap. "It's enchanting. If I were any smarter I would say that you're trying to get my heart racing."
Zayne's hands are icy when he plants them on your hips, firm and demanding, pulling you down right to where he wants you. He's aching, cock straining hard against his suit pants, throbbing when you finally press down against him, your cunt quivering when you feel the familiar outline of him. A hoarse groan escapes his lips as he tilts his head back, relishing in the feeling of finally feeling you again, but his pleasure is momentarily when you push up to your toes, hovering over his lap.
He blinks your beautiful figure back into focus, opening and closing his mouth several times as he searches for something to say. You had laid the rules out for him long before this little game began and he had just broken the number one rule - no touching. He watches with a lump in his throat as you step back, light little steps all the way back to the bed, spreading yourself out among the dark satin sheets.
"Oh, Zayne.." you sigh, your voice a mixture of a dreamy sigh and something a little more sensually sinister. "I don't envy your position. Guess now you'll just have to be a good boy and stay put while I play."
His hands tighten into fists as he watches you through low lashes, how your hands skim up and down your skin that he ached to touch. Perhaps this is his punishment for making you beg for it. Time for a taste of his own medicine.
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𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 : The satin winds around his wrists in intricate lines, binding his wrists together and leaving him vulnerable in the palm of your hands. You never thought your boyfriend would agree to this, but it was surprisingly easy to get him to fall right into his trap, luring him closer and closer with the promise of pleasure.
And the sight of him wrapped up like this was one that you were determined to tuck into the cracks and corners of your mind, to remember forever.
You've made yourself comfortable on his lap, his bound hands behind your back, essentially keeping you locked in his embrace. Every now and then you can feel the gentle brush of his thumbs as they brush over your back, seeking bare skin, warmth, how you shiver with every grind over his cock. He wasn't one that ever minded messes and he wasn't about to start now, especially not with the way you were dripping over him, your folds parting a little bit each time the leaking flushed tip of his cock met your cunt.
Your forehead is pressed tightly to his, light strands of hair, slick with sweat, tickling your own but you can't find it in yourself to complain, not when it feels this good, to be pressed chest to chest. Rafayel fights to keep his eyes open, to keep his focus on your face and not the way you're making him drip. Puffs of hot air hit your face and if you focus hard enough you can hear the whines woven between them, feel how he ruts his hips up every now and then, seeking more.
"Tell me how it good it feels," you whisper, your glossy lips dragging across the heated skin of his cheek, feeling how his breath trembles and shakes. "Tell me how much you like being tied up for me."
Rafayel's spit-soaked lips part, the syllables shaking on the tip of his tongue when you press down harder against his aching cock, whimpering a weak, "I-I do-"
"Yeah?"
"Ngh- Yes. Yes, fuck, I do. I do, baby, I do so much." A high-pitched whine sneaks past his lips. "Just, please, fuck me."
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𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈��𝐑 : For a man who's calm, collected and never shaken by anything in battle, Xavier's breathing is shaky. His hands seek you out with desperate touches, stumbling over the sheets, fumbling with the crevices and dips of your hips until he finds your hand.
"I..." he licks his lips, pauses, and exhales a long breath. "I quite like this."
You nudge your cheek into his other awaiting hand as you bend down a little, a small smirk spreading across your face when you notice how red his cheeks have gotten. How you wished he could see how pretty he looked like this - blindfolded, on his knees in front of you, desperate to please.
You coo softly, watching as Xavier perks up when he feels the familiar warmth of your body spilling across his own when you shift closer. It's almost comical, how eager he seems, like a puppy wanting to please its master. You let your thumb run over the silk draped across his eyes, obscuring his vision, ensuring he wouldn't be able to see between the cracks before murmuring, "You're such a good boy, aren't you?"
A hum vibrates in the back of his throat and he nods, perhaps a little too eagerly. But you're not satisfied with just that, threading your fingers between the strands of light hair. Xavier makes the mistake of nudging into your touch before you tug at the strands, drawing a strained moan from his lips, the high pitched sound soon dissolving into a pathetic moan.
You glance down at his boxers, raising one of your brows at the dark stain that decorates the material, huffing out a stale chuckle. "Oh, you poor thing," faux sympathy laces your words as you speak. "Don't tell me you came from his a little bit of tugging and teasing?"
Xavier's cheeks are red, his neck flushing an even deeper color and he attempts to duck his head, yet the grip on his hair you currently have prevents him from doing so. Shamefully he rocks his hips up, seeking friction but being met with nothing. You tut before gripping the strands once more and Xavier has no choice but to follow your touch, up, up and up until his nose brushes against the inside of your thigh.
A long whine escapes him as he presses his nose against the dampness of your panties, inhaling deeply as his hands fly south to press against his boxers, squeezing his cock.
"Please," he whispers, his words muffled between your thighs. "Please let me make you feel good, please. Just one taste, I swear I'll be so good to you."
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3K notes · View notes
bunnyhugs77 · 4 months
Text
Mr. Take Your Bitch
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Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 8.2k
Content Warning: jk is a little cocky, player! jk, reader gets flustered so easily, jk is such a tease, smooth talker jk, clubbing, ft bts, interviews, reader is small (like 5'1), insults, alcohol consumption, infidelity, readers boyfriend is an asshole, mentions of smoking, impulsive jk, what happens in vegas stays in vegas, messyyy, suggestive themes, sweet gestures.
Other Content: hair pulling, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), squirting, missionary, jk splits reader in half, big dick! jk, doggy style, dacryphilia, praise and degradation, cream pies, minor possessive jk, unprotected sex (be better than them), recording.
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"How do I look?" Sunny tosses the perfectly sculpted curls in her hair once more, pouting in the dressing room mirror, making sure that not a strand was out of place.
"For the eighth time, you look great, as always." She stands, her red off-the-shoulder top accenting her white pencil skirt and perfect figure, she really did look gorgeous. "Great isn't enough. This is the first time I'm interviewing THE BTS. I need to look perfect."
"You do. I promise." You reassure with a comforting right hand on her shoulder while you center her necklace with your left. "Y/n, we need you out here to help set up." Your manager cracks the door open to call for you briefly before leaving.
"I still cannot believe you dragged me into this coffee girl job just for you to get close to Namjoon." Sunny's full lips stretch from ear to ear showing off her million-dollar smile, "What's so wrong about me wanting you nearby for emotional support? But at least I got you a job out of it, 3 weeks ago you were on the brink of poverty.'' Her arms crossed and you had to admit, she did have a point.
"What was the whole point of this again?" You simply had to ask, remembering the midnight phone call Sunny surprised you with about a month ago when she landed the Hybe interviewer position.
"Remember the story I told you about, in Junior year, me and this boy from math camp snuck out 6 miles away with fake IDs and got shitfaced at the nearest bar then hooked up but I never got his name and he was in the middle of signing my journal we were interrupted and I never saw him again until-"
"You saw Namjoon's face on a billboard in Seoul, and you took this opportunity to get close to see if it was him or not. Yes, I remember now, it's all coming back to me." You finish her story for her.
"Exactly, and-"
"--Y/n, sometime today would be great." Your manager interrupts once again and you leave, apologizing frantically for making them wait, not wanting to lose this job. It actually paid pretty well considering all you did was make drinks.
Walking out of the dressing room, ignoring the buzz in the back pocket of your jeans as you followed your manager to the coffee cart offset. Although from here you had a perfect view of where the interview would take place.
They set it up to be very stylish and modern with BTS albums and concept photos placed strategically around the set within the camera shot. Along with a small coffee table, one chair on one side where Sunny would sit and seven on the other side.
It almost gave you chills to think about. The fact that in a few moments, the most popular boy band in the continent would be sitting right there. All seven of them, including the tempting one.
The one who makes you stumble over your words every time he comes down to the first floor to get a coffee even though there's a gazillion other places to get something to drink in the building.
Every time you see him, he's displaying a new style. Sometimes he comes down stacked with complex layers of clothing and covered in jewelry, or with nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, although the latter was possibly the worst of your few interactions. He's just so handsome, it made you want to squirm.
That day he was saying all the right things, yet saying nothing at all. Asking you simple questions like when you started working here, and if you liked coffee, meanwhile all you could mutter was an embarrassing 'yes'. What exactly you were saying yes to? You may never know.
You turned your back to the set and focused on making the pre-ordered drinks the members had sent down with their manager beforehand. By the time you turned back around Sunny was sitting in her place, anxious but ready.
You've been best friends since the 6th grade. She's incredibly outgoing and sociable, a balancing contrast to your more introverted nature although you could be a little extroverted with some alcohol in your system.
She was born for this job, you're sure she'll kill the interview. She mentioned that she'd bumped into a few of the members since she started working a month ago, but not Namjoon.
She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to 'bump' into a man who is guarded by security constantly and extremely busy, not to mention rarely in the country.
Hoseok was the first one to walk in, looking sharp as ever in casual attire but he he made it look incredible. Next was Jimin, and you noticed the way Sunny's eyes nearly widened when she finally saw Namjoon walk in behind Tae.
Finally, they were all inside and all greeted Sunny with a friendly hug and you can see she enjoyed her hug with Namjoon a little too much. Somehow finding something small to laugh about with him as they pulled away.
With an empty cup in your hand, you watched the most handsome group of men you've ever seen, file into the room and take a seat. "Go set these down before cameras start rolling." You feel a tap on your shoulder from another worker.
Did you zone out?
You placed a firm hand on your chest, taking a deep breath before placing a sturdy grip on the handles of the cart and bringing their beverages over. 'One foot in front of the other' you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the feeling of their gazes turning to you as you got closer.
Unable to look any of them in the eyes as you set down their drinks on the table saying the name of each one so they know which one is theirs.
You could feel his gaze on you whilst Sunny got to witness it first hand from where she sat. The way his jaw slowly clenches with each passing moment, watching you with dark, intense eyes. In that moment, the world around him blurred, and all that remained was the captivating image of you.
It was while you were placing down the final cup that you felt bold enough to finally look up from the table, glancing at Jimin who was talking to Hoseok on his right. Slowly your line of sight inches up and over his head to Jungkook who was sitting on a taller chair behind him.
He was looking right at you.
And that was more than enough for you to return to the cart and retreat to your station. The boys reached for their cups as the countdown to the interview began.
You watched with engaged eyes from the sidelines as the interview began, going through basic introductions and standard questions, you were listening along to the jokes made along the way.
It seemed they were having a great time out there, but you couldn't focus on all of them for too long. You wouldn't be doing your duties as Sunny's best friend if you didn't watch Namjoon's every move; including how he seemed to be the first one to answer almost any of her questions.
The questions were flying by and the discussion was so entertaining to watch but it was over before you even registered it. Sure, cameras had stopped rolling but they were all still talking.
You felt another buzz in your pocket, finally deciding to check.
 Daehyun: Are you still mad? It's been 2 days, you're being dramatic. 12:02 pm
 Daehyun: Why aren't you answering my texts? 1:12 pm
 Daehyun: Fine. Keep ignoring me. Real mature, Y/n. 1:13 pm
You scoff at the messages.
Unbelievable.
Your boyfriend has left you astonished. Again!
You put your phone back on silent, secretly wishing you'd never checked it in the first place. Muttering under your breath about what a jerk he's been to you lately but you stop yourself. Because he's still your boyfriend, and sure, he fucked up a few times, bad. It doesn't change the fact that you're in a relationship with him.
If you could even call it that.
You've slept together twice. Well- 1.5 times if you wanted to get specific. The second time was so bad that you simply had to stop it altogether and make up some excuse so that you didn't hurt his feelings.
Shaking him out of your head and focusing back on your task at hand which was collecting the empty mugs from the table. Repeating the same process as before, avoiding all eye contact, but this time you didn't look up.
You didn't bother because you already knew he was watching you.
You were intimidated but you weren't oblivious.
-
"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" You hear her from around the corner before you see her running towards you at your coffee station on the first floor. Sunny was practically bursting. You would think that she had captured the sun between her hands but it was something that would take your life for a spin, but you didn't know that yet.
"You're interview went so well!" You slip in your comment first knowing that once she says whatever she has to say, it'll go on for years.
"I know right! After you left to pack up, I was still talking to the guys and they really seemed to like me so they invited me and any +1 I want to invite on their weekend in Vegas trip tomorrow night! All expenses paid for!" Jaw-dropping wasn't the word. Knee buckling may be a better fit as you had quite literally stumbled and dropped a mug, thankfully it didn't break.
"No. No no no." You say, backing up and her entire demeanour deflated like a devastated puppy. "Why not?" You lean in close, whispering, "Because Jungkook is gonna be there--" She interrupts you, practically exploding with emotions. "Oh my god, he wants you so bad. Did you see the way he was looking at you?!" She whisper shouts.
"I know!" you plain shout out, realizing your volume needed adjusting and leaning forward onto the counter. "But he's Jeon Jungkook and I have Daehyun-" The most disgusted look runs across Sunny's face.
"I cannot believe you are even comparing the two right now. You said it yourself, one is Jeon Jungkook, and the other is Daehyun, a man you should've left in the dust months ago." Here we go again, you sigh.
"C'mon Y/n. He's an asshole, he's childish, he's bad in bed and honestly, the list should end there but no, he humiliated you in front of your family and he was caught in your sister's dm's on Christmas!!"
"It's May for god's sake and he's still stressing you out, and seeing you stressed makes me stressed. So why don't you come tomorrow, I'll keep you away from Jungkook if it comes to that, but please, you need to let loose a little and forget about him for just the weekend." She begs.
She could see you were starting to consider it.
"Please?" She pouts, giving you those same puppy eyes that convinced you to work here in the first place. "Please don't look at me like that, stop." You try to avoid her sorrowful gaze but It's like it intensifies to a point where you just can't look away, nor can you deny.
"Fine, fine. Okay, I'll go."
--
Considering you only just found out you were leaving the country yesterday, you think you did pretty good packing light but efficiently.
That's what you were thinking as you stepped behind Sunny onto the empty private jet. She'd already made arrangements to sit beside Namjoon.
She was crazy but you had to give the girl credit, she worked fast.
You weren't taking in a single thing, part of you was still in disbelief you had even seen the boys up close and personal yesterday.
This would all sink in for you in 5 years and then you'll be hit with a numbing regret of not doing things differently.
Or maybe it'll sink in for you right now, Jimin's full head of brown wavy hair is the first one you see to pop up on the plane and he flashes you a kind smile, taking a seat beside you.
He introduces himself as if you and half the world don't already know him but you engage anyway, giving him your name and the rest is history.
The flight was 11 hours so there was a lot of ground to cover between the two of you for the first 6 hours. Jimin was just such an easy person to open up with, any time you said something crazy you felt like he would have an even crazier story of his own to share.
He'd told you all about his first impressions of the guys to his first scandal that the label somehow managed to cover up because even you were in shock. It would have been over for him.
Then it was your turn, telling him about your exhausting boyfriend since it all started seven months ago.
"On Christmas?!" He shouts, "Why are you with him again?" You groan, "God you sound just like Sunny!"
The two of you were clearly enjoying your conversation while Sunny worked on getting Namjoon to talk a little bit about his past, trying to see if he really was the boy from all those years ago, but he seemed occupied reading his book and she wasn't going to interrupt him any longer. She sighs softly, looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by like art.
Meanwhile, at the front of the jet, Jungkook typed away on his laptop, sometimes blurbing some possible lyrics, but mostly keeping himself busy with a thousand rounds of Tetris. He tuned out the sound of your angelic laughter with his headphones, but it couldn't stop him from glancing to the back of the plane where you sat with Jimin every so often.
Only about an hour left before you landed and you really needed to pee but Jimin was in the way and fast asleep. You looked around, it seemed that everyone was fast asleep, but you really had to go.
Lightly tapping Jimin and asking him to let you through, he moves, half awake, just giving you enough time to pass before going back to his original position.
You exited the bathroom, nearly falling to the ground in horror when you came face to face with the man you'd nearly forgotten was on the jet. He smiles that classic bunny smile that the fans go crazy over.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says it so sweetly, and in this hushed tone due to the late hour of the night it was making your head think things. Things that you should not be thinking about.
"You okay?" Checking in, seeing that you seemed to have zoned out mid-conversation. Shit. You were doing it again. "Y-yeah." You hated speaking to him it made you feel like you couldn't speak at all. He was just so tall, and his eyes were so big and endearing and-
"Really? Cause it looks like you've got something on your mind." It comes out in such a way that brings heat to your face, suddenly hyper-aware that everyone is asleep, and the two of you are out of sight in the narrow hall of the bathroom.
"Yeah, just excited for tomorrow." You lie, you felt sick to your stomach. He made you sick to your stomach. He gets a little closer, now close enough for you to be able to smell the soft cologne on his clothes. "What's got you so excited?"
It felt like you were watching yourself fall from the sky, it was slow but graceful, but you knew once you hit the bottom, things would get ugly. So you grew wings. "My boyfriend. We're planning on Facetiming tomorrow." It was like a repellant, the way he stepped back.
"Oh, that's nice." He mumbles and you take this opportunity to run back to your seat, hopping over Jimin and strapping yourself back in your seat, shaking your head over and over again.
This was a bad idea. You should not have come on this trip.
-
"She has a fucking boyfriend." Is the first thing Jungkook says to Yoongi and Jimin while the three sit in the back of the taxi that is en route to the hotel. Yoongi wasn't listening, still half asleep after only waking up 30 minutes ago. He would need a repeat of it all tomorrow.
"Pfft. Barely." Jimin mumbles. Triggering quite possibly the fasted head turn known to mankind, Jungkook looks at him with intrigue, "What do you mean by that."
"He's an asshole. Like a literal piece of shit, but she's still with him for whatever reason. It's gotta be Stockholm syndrome." Jimin shrugs. "But you can't tell her I told you this, I think she's pretty cool, so before you get your dick wet, think with your head first."
Yoongi hums in agreement with that one statement. He may be asleep but he knows a good statement when he hears one.
-
Jungkook did think. He thought about you all night. From the cab to the hotel, until he fell asleep and again when he woke up. Sure, you had a boyfriend, but it sounds like you shouldn't be with him, or at least deserved someone better.
The morning sun seeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the lavish surroundings. You and Sunny share a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience that awaits. Or at least that's what Sunny thinks.
Instead, you retreat under the covers of your bed with an unpleasant sound. "How could I let you bring me here." Your voice is muffled and scratchy from it being the morning still. "Because you love me." She runs from her bed and jumps onto yours.
"Should we get room service?" She proposes and you slowly pull the covers down, revealing an interested expression. "Who's paying?" You ask. "Who cares! It's not us." She springs up and bounces for the phone.
By the late afternoon, you'd gotten an invite from Jimin, inviting you guys down to the pool, it was reserved just for them. "We're going, this isn't up for debate, Y/n. You said you would relax on this trip, so it's my job to make sure you do!" She pulls out the violet two-piece you'd packed in your luggage and shoves you into the bathroom, throwing the clothes in there with you after and shutting the door.
"I hate you y'know," you say from the other side of the door.
"You'll thank me one day, Y/n. One day."
-
There was a roar of cheers from the guys as the two of you walked into sight, the sun was beaming down on you and you were glad you brought your sunscreen.
Jungkook tried to be respectful to the sham of a relationship you were in but what was he supposed to do? You looked so hot in your bathing suit, you were so small but you still had curves in all the right places.
He just wanted to break you in half. Pin you down and-
A splash of water hits him in the face, "Stop eye fucking her and act like you've been neutered for once." Yoongi warns, swimming away before Jungkook could retaliate.
Jin calls Sunny into the water, and she just about jumped in while you were working on unwrapping your new bottle of sunscreen. Jungkook uses this as an opportunity. Looking down at the white shirt that was now soaked through, sticking to his abs he slowly steps out of the water.
Looking you right in the eyes as you shook the bottle. Now you were staring but you didn't care. You were looking at the son of Adonis, or maybe the god himself.
In the warm glow of the poolside sun, Jungkook emerged from the sparkling water, droplets cascading down his glistening skin. The pool's rippling surface bore witness to his athletic grace as he approached the pool chair where you reclined, still shaking the bottle.
His steps were confident, each one leaving a trail of water on the tiles beneath his feet. As he neared, he held your gaze with an intense, playful glint in his eyes. The air between you became charged with a magnetic energy, and a sly smile played on his lips.
With deliberate movements, Jungkook reached down to the hem of his white shirt, clinging to his sculpted physique. The fabric peeled away, revealing the contours of his toned abs. Beads of water followed the curves of his body, accentuating every defined muscle.
As the shirt came off, the sunlight caught on the droplets clinging to his skin, creating an ethereal effect. The sensual eye contact between the two of you intensified, creating a moment suspended in time. The poolside ambiance seemed to hush, allowing the connection between them to take center stage.
Your fist clenched, the sunscreen blurted out of the bottle, some landing on the smooth skin of your thigh but most hit the chair.
Jungkook's expression hinted at a playful confidence, acknowledging the allure of the moment. Your little accident told him all he needed to know. You wanted him.
Even if you didn't know it yet.
Wiping desperately at the sunscreen that had landed on you, a bigger hand comes to help. Gently rubbing the soft flesh of your thigh, Jungkook was crouched to your level with nothing more than a sincere smile as he helped you with your sunscreen.
Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water as you watched him from beside yourself. Unable to believe what was happening. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, and other places but you shook your head.
"Wh-what-" Jungkook looks up to you, moving his hand away. "My bad. I didn't mean to overstep, I just noticed that you'd spilt some of your sunscreen," He inches just a little closer so that you looked down at him from where you sat on your chair. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."
That mischievous tongue of his makes an appearance briefly as it swipes over his bottom lip before retreating; leaving behind glossy plump lips. It's not what he says, but how he says it.
Almost as though he wanted you to break.
You hated how he made you feel without saying anything out of the ordinary.
"You have to be shitting me," Yoongi curses to no one in particular as he watches Jungkook lean up towards you from where he was floating in the pool on the flamingo inflatable.
"You've gotta admit, the boy's determined." Jin adds while Hoseok shakes his head, "He just doesn't know when to give up."
--
Opening your hotel room door to see Jimin leaning against the wall waiting for you. He looked incredible in his black button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair swooped to perfection.
"About time." He kicks himself off the wall as you scoff, "Don't blame me, blame the dress." Your freshly manicured nail points to the red, velvet dress that left your chest exposed before it went under the halter neckline.
There was so much skin offered to anyone that looked at you. You looked absolutely stunning. The way the dress clung tightly to your curves was almost ungodly but made you seem even more angelic.
Twirling on your toes slowly to showcase the full rotation of your outfit and Jimin failed to suppress his gasp. The back- Your back was completely exposed safe for where the halter crossed behind your neck.
"You look hot, and I'm not just saying that." You grin, leading the way to the elevator and waiting for it to come up.
While you were watching the elevator screen, Jimin was watching you. Not lustfully or anything since he really did see the two of you becoming close friends in the future but his gaze was full of.. fear?
Jungkook was going to eat you alive tonight, and he was willing to put money on it.
The man has been able to show limited amounts of self-control since the trip began, and his little shirtless stunt at the pool earlier that day was proof.
The elevator dings and the doors open.
You step in, hearing your phone vibrating from within your maroon chain side bag. Digging through your various lipsticks, mini perfumes and hair pins you finally grab your buzzing device.
 Daehyun: When did you go to Vegas?? and how did you get there? 4:33 pm
 Daehyun: Baby, I'm sorry. I mean it. Stop Ignoring me. (now) 8:12 pm
You sigh, scrolling through your messages sadly. "Am I being too hard on him?" Jimin leans over to look at the messages, his face turning sour at Daehyun's messages. "I bet you he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for."
The elevator doors close, and Jimin presses the star symbol for the nightclub on the first floor where you would meet the others.
Shaking your head repeatedly, "No. That's impossible. He knows, Jimin. Trust me." He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest,
"Okay. Since you're so sure-" He snatched your phone from your grasp, his fingers moving at the speed of light and you panicked, reaching for the device but he held it high. "Jimin No-!"
"I said 'What are you apologizing for'. I won't send it if you don't want me to. But It seems like he's only apologizing because he knows he's in the wrong, but doesn't know what for."
The elevator dings, going down floor by floor, the silence slowly creeping up on you, "Send it." You say, and his thumb hits send.
The doors open.
You and Jimin step out into the club. Before you sprawled a vast expanse of vibrant colours. Neon lights adorned the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of hues that danced in rhythm with the music.
The dance floor, surrounded by elevated platforms and VIP booths, was the epicentre of the vibrant spectacle. Mirrored ceilings multiplied the dazzling display, creating a sense of endless sin.
"Do you know where they are?" You ask while Jimin leads the way into the crowd of hot bodies and blasting music, he glances down to the text from Tae, "Tae said they're in section 9." Maneuvering your way through the swarm of people until you meet up with the others.
Jimin walked up the steps first, the group's cheers blending in with the roars coursing throughout the rest of the club as he joined them with you closely behind, the cheers continuing for you with whistles once you reached the platform.
"Oh shit!" Sunny curses, rushing to your side to shower you with compliments. "I guess being 30 minutes late pays off, you look great." Tae welcomes you with a side hug and an invitation to sit beside him.
"You need to cool it." Jin pulls Jungkook in by the collar so that he could hear him over the music. Jungkook finally pulls his hungry gaze off of you and looks to his elder.
"You're making it way obvious, and obvious is not what you want. She has a boyfriend. There are hundreds of other girls here, find someone else." He lets him go and Jungkook shakes his head.
How Jin even found out that you had a boyfriend didn't phase him. The seven of them were as close as brothers, it was hard for him and Jimin to keep anything to themselves.
Hundreds of girls but they weren't you. He couldn't just switch it on and off. This wasn't as fun and playful as it once was before, he was starting to get addicted to the thought of you.
"You have any pre-rolls on you?" Jungkook leans over to Namjoon who was deep into a conversation with Sunny. Namjoon reaches inside the pocket of his blazer, "Never leave home without them."
"Great. I need a smoke." Jungkook huffs, standing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. God you looked so fucking fine in that dress, it made him crazy, sick to his stomach.
He's Jeon Jungkook for god's sake.
The concept of want is so unfamiliar to him. Any girl he wants could easily be in his bed the same day, but you-- he shakes his head bitterly-- you were giving him a hard time, all over what? some lame-ass boyfriend.
"Namjoon you comin' ?" He looks over his shoulder to see both him and Sunny standing, "Mind if I join?" She asks, "The more the merrier."
You watched as the three of them disappeared into the bustling crowd vanishing out of sight. "Where did they go?"
Tae leans forward looking at where the trio had just walked through. "Probably went to go ball up." Tae shrugs, "Which means it's time to really get this night started. First round on me."
It wasn't until three shots later when Jungkook had finally come back, this was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a black jacket that had the most delicate body chains striping across his abdomen, giving you a clear view of his sculpted abs and-
Your phone buzzes.
 You: Why are you apologizing? 8:13 pm
 Daehyun: Because you're upset. (now) 9:27 pm
God, Jimin might be right. He doesn't have a clue.
 You: Do you even know why I'm mad? 9:27 pm
 Daehyun: Is it because of the nudes I sent Soo-Min? I was drunk, I promise. It was a mistake. 9:28 pm
You gasp. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were referring to him standing you up when you told all your family that he would be coming. You never knew this had even happened.
 You: What the fuck are you talking about? 9:29 pm
 You: I cannot believe you right now. 9:29 pm
 You: Stop fucking texting me. 9:30 pm
You weren't even sad or disappointed. You were used to him letting you down constantly. "Looks like you need another shot." You look up from the screen in your lap, making eye contact with ringed fingers wrapped around a shot glass with your name on it.
You take the shot in your own grasp, looking Jungkook in the eyes as you down it. Your face wincing a little at the burn in the back of your throat but you were beginning to feel that exciting warmth in your chest.
The strobe lights turn red as Chris Brown's Take You Down begins to play through the loud speakers all around the club. "Wanna dance?" He offered you his hand, your brain was a little hazy and your cheeks were flushed but Jungkook was too hot to resist.
"Love to."
The two of you walk off to the dance floor with the rest of the crowd.
Taehyung looks to Jin who looks to Hoseok who looks to Yoongi.
Yoongi sighs, shaking his head slowly taking another shot. "It's out of my control. Once they step on that floor, their fate is sealed."
It's true, the moment Jungkook's hands were on your hips that swayed to the music you knew you were screwed. You had every right to be apprehensive about going on this stupid trip in the first place, but deep down you knew it was inevitable.
This very moment was destined from the start.
"You look fucking perfect tonight." He whispers in your ear from behind you, subconsciously pushing your hips back on him and Jungkook could swear he's never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at this very moment.
"Says you," You spin in his hold, now face to face.
His grip on your hips tighten, body unable to maintain its façade for much longer. Your hair was up in a bun tonight, showing off the industrial piercing he never even knew you had.
There were so many things he wanted to know about you, and not just physically. He wanted to be able to sit with you over a cup of coffee and talk about everything and anything.
His tight hold on you prompted a breathless whine to escape your lips but he heard it. "Stop it." He says and your eyebrows scrunch, genuinely confused. "Stop what?"
"Stop tempting me. I'm trying to be respectful." Astonishment wipes over your features. "You're telling me to stop? It's been you all along, making me trip over my words, and being so shirtless and hot all the time, making me forget I have a boyfriend." He chuckles.
"So you admit it. You think about me too?"
You step back.
"Yes, Jungkook. I cannot stop thinking about you and that's my problem. I need to get you out of my head." Your mouth was saying one thing, but with the way he was looking at you, your heart wanted him between your legs.
The almost forgotten feeling of lust finally coursed through your veins. It'd been so long since you'd gotten any action, you needed this.
But you couldn't.
He steps towards you, even closer than before. You could feel his firm body crowding against your own. The way he towered over you made you feel dizzy. He leaned down, ensuring that you could feel his warm breath on the shell of your ear when he spoke "Tell me you don't want me and I'll walk away."
You don't want him. you lie to yourself.
Trying to put these thoughts into words, your mouth opens.
"I need you, Jungkook." Finally admitting it.
There was no going back now, his lips crashed against yours with nothing less than an animalistic desire. It was fast-paced and messy but you loved it.
The dam finally broke.
You kissed with more than your lips, his hands on your waist, squeezing tight as he rolled his hips into you with the rhythm of the music.
This was so so wrong, but it felt so right.
The way his tongue rolled over your bottom lip with such skill made your thighs clench, you could only imagine the things he could do with it--
"Y/n!" Sunny screams your name from behind you, not even processing what you and Jungkook had just been doing while Namjoon was busy enjoying the music behind her.
You turned around, a little breathless and bothered after being disrupted but you were immediately occupied with analyzing Sunny's appearance. For starters her hair was ruffled and looked like it'd been put through the wringer, her lipstick (what was left of it) was fading and a little smudged.
And last that you checked she was wearing lashes when the night began but they were nowhere to be found. "Sunny where did you go-- Oh my god- Did you and Namjoon-" Her non-stop nodding causes you to clasp your hand over your mouth.
"It's him! He remembers me!" The two of you have your moment, squealing before Jungkook whispers in your ear. "Meet me at the elevator in 5." Sunny actually does catch on this time.
"Oh my god!? Are you gonna-"
You think about it, "I don't know!! Should I?! Daehyun just voluntarily admitted to sending nudes to Soo-Min god knows when and-" Sunny groans. "Leave him, for the love of god y/n stand up!" She yells.
"I can't just leave him he's my boyfriend, and it wouldn't make me any better than him." Sunny's eyes roll. "It won't be cheating if you plan on breaking up with his ass tonight. Just hurry up and decide, Jungkook's waiting for you." She winks and it gives you butterflies.
He was waiting for you.
The moment you turned the corner of the hallway, you saw Jungkook waiting outside the elevator as he said he would be, finally pressing the button. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," he laughs internally to himself at the double entendre, knowing Jungkook's track record, this has never been an issue for him.
The two of you step inside the elevator, it would be a long ride up to the 21st floor, the two of you did your best to stay to your respective sides of the elevator until there was a crowd of people that entered as well, pushing you into him.
Completely oblivious to the way your ass was pressed flush against his crotch, he looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this kind of punishment.
A beautiful girl pressed up against him but he couldn't do anything. As the crowd moved, so did you he hisses and your body stills, finally aware of what you were doing.
On the 13th floor the elevator empties completely, leaving just the two of you and you try to move away from him but his grip holds you in place. "Didn't think you'd be running from me so soon." You'd never heard his voice like this. It was deeper, bass full of wants and desires,
He spins you around, he had you cornered.
Looking up to him with that doe gaze of yours. His index finger gently rests under your chin, your gaze was practically begging him to kiss you, but in case he was hesitating you nodded just a little, permitting him to open your lips with his.
This kiss was a lot slower and deeper than the one before. It was soft and sweet, but slowly turned into a full-blown make-out session by the time the elevator made it to the 21st floor.
He leads the way to his room at the end of the hall, beside Hoseok's room.
Jungkook worked on unlocking the door while you chewed on the tip of your acrylic. Were you really about to do this?
"I'm going in my room, and you don't have to follow, but I'm leaving the door unlocked." He says, disappearing behind the door. Looking over your shoulder, your room was 4 doors down.
You could still back out now, it wasn't too late.
All you would need to do is have a long talk with Daehyun.
You scoff, even his name irritated you. Your heart knew things weren't going to work out between the two of you once you got back home, regardless of whether you slept with Jungkook or not.
He's broken your trust far too many times, and besides, Sunny was right, he is an asshole.
You walk into Jungkook's room and make sure to lock the door behind you.
"That's my girl," He purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before gracing you with a heated kiss, the kind of kiss that made you stumble as he walked you back to the door.
"Hope you put that phone on dnd." He whispers, kissing down your neck, skillfully managing to take your hair down at the same time. You looked like the epitome of sin, hair falling over your shoulders as if it fell from grace while your neck was littered with hickeys, your plump bottom lip tugged between those perfect teeth of yours.
Your dress was the first thing to go, he loved it on you, but it served its purpose, and it did it well. Soon his jacket was finally off revealing his muscular build that you'd seen in the fan cams but it couldn't compare to the real thing.
You kissed him back desperately as your legs were wrapped around his waist while he made his way to the bed, dropping you down to your back watching the way you bounced.
Your perfect tits are the first victim of his passionate affection. Leaving tender kisses on the soft flesh, "Jungkook-" you gasp feeling him wrap his lips around your nipples, tongue working hard to push you towards that edge that you'd been inching closer to since you got in here.
He groans as he feels your hands roam over his back, anticipating the feeling of your nails scratching his skin. Finally moving down from your breasts once they were covered with his kisses and hickeys.
You could feel yourself practically soaking through your under, not to mention the way it was sticking to you. "Looks like someone's worked up," he teases, slowly peeling you out of your ruined underwear.
"What's got you so hot and bothered, is it your boyfriend?" You sit up so fast almost getting a head rush and he laughs. "Jungkook." You say and he gives you a look of lust. "What? Say it baby, use your words. Tell me who makes you this wet. Is it me or him?"
You press your legs together, unable to believe that this was turning you on more. "He couldn't turn me on." He looks up to you with wide eyes. "Is that so?" Nodding your head slowly, letting Jungkook gently push you back down to the bed.
On his knees he takes a deep breath at your core, a guttural sound rumbling in his chest as he was face to face with your dripping core. "So you're saying it's me?" he asks, letting his tongue run a flat stripe against your soaked folds.
"YES! It's you Jungkook please, stop teasing, please I can't take it. I'm already so close." You beg, body thrashing around enough for him to pin your legs over his shoulder and to keep you still.
You were stroking his ego, telling you you were already so close and he's barely touched you. Your boyfriend must've been shit in bed, and he was determined to make it up to you. He was going to show you what you've been missing.
Finally eating you out to his heart's content, ignoring the way your feet continued to move frantically over his shoulders he lapped up at your core, flicking his tongue over your clit until your body spasmed uncontrollably. "I'm-" Unable to even finish the sentence before you were blinded by an earth-shattering orgasm.
It ripped through you like a storm and came squirting out of you just like one too. "You've got to fucking kidding me," Jungkook murmurs to himself and you froze. Was he mad?
He stands up, "Of course the hottest girl I've ever seen squirts on my tongue. Good fucking hell, Y/n. It's like you want me obsessed with you." Who was he kidding, he was already obsessed.
He picked you up so carelessly, bringing you to the balcony where it overlooked the Las Vegas strip. You could see the hotel's illuminated pool and all the car lights as they zoomed on the highway far in the distance.
"Hope you're not scared of heights."
Your stomach twisted at the thought of being so high up, but it was all forgotten once your leg was propped up and you felt your folds being prodded open by the fat head of Jungkook's cock.
"No- fuck! Wait." you cursed feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of his size nearly causing you to fall but he held you steady against the railing, bulging biceps on either side of your body, caging you in safely.
Jungkook knew better, this should be the last place he should be doing something like this but with your pretty ass right in front of him it was such a beautiful sight, and the scenery was cool too.
"It's too much," you pant, arms bracing yourself on the fence that kept you from falling 200 feet below. "It's only the tip baby, you sure you can take the whole thing?" You pause in thought, you needed him, all of him. "I can take it. keep going." You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every nook and cranny of your womb.
It felt like he was in your lungs, you were knocked breathless, and he didn't move. Your body went limp in his arms, exactly what he feared would happen. He quite literally split you open, but you were determined to take it.
You clawed at the railing desperately, looking for any kind of relief from what you were feeling. "Deep breaths baby, I'll go slow." You nod, eyes squeezed shut as his hips slowly roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in.
"Oo-oh. fuck. Jungkook, keep going." you moan, head falling onto your hands; feeling what was once pain morphs into an addicting, sweet pleasure, over time his pace picks up until he was fucking into you with no remorse.
Even if no one could see you from this high up, they sure as hell could hear you. The way you cried out his name like a prayer over and over while Jungkook's brain was short-circuiting with the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds it created.
"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this, huh?" He angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace even though you've already come twice now. Your body jolts with each snap of his hips.
You shake your head, but that isn't enough for him, flipping you around so that you're facing him, he pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.
"Use your words Y/n. You're my smart girl, look me in the eyes and tell me that your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do." Your eyes snap open, "He c-could never fuck-!" Jungkook slowed down his thrusts to something so much deeper, your eyes rolled and Jungkook nearly came just at the sight.
"Shit, I'm gonna come." He pants, and with a few more erratic thrusts you feel his warm cum fill you up. He slowly lets you stand but your legs fail you immediately. Scooping you up in his arms effortlessly he brings you to the bed, clearly not done with you.
That's how you found yourself on the brink of your third orgasm while Jungkook plowed into you from behind, obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock.
Your arms had given out long ago hence why your cheek was smushed into the sheets of the bed while you whimpered like a whore. "God you should look at yourself," He laughs almost maniacally from behind you.
Feeling himself approach his climax, "Jungkook- please!" you cried out, the friction only adding to the stimulation, "m' gonna-" you try to get back up on your arms but you couldn't move.
"I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he saw you like this,'' A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he reaches for your phone that was forgotten somewhere on the bed, hitting record.
Pulling you up onto your arms, tugging your hair by a makeshift ponytail, the flash highlights the various bruises all over your body left by yours truly. The audio was picking up his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the room was quiet enough you could probably hear the welt squelch of your cunt sucking in his length with each push.
"Shit, shit, shit!" You cry out, coming once more and your body goes limp, Jungkook ends the recording and tosses the phone to the side while he chases his own high finishing soon after you.
He pulls out slowly, "Y/n, baby? Are you with me?" He taps your cheek gently, and your eyes barely open, "I think you fucked the soul out of me," He dares to flash you a nervous smile as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb.
"Come, let's get you cleaned up."
-
"That was one hell of a trip." You mumble to Sunny on the phone as you wheel your suitcase down the hall to the door of your apartment where there was a big bouquet of flowers.
"Oh my god," You say, crouching down, wincing a little as you did to read the card. "What?" Sunny asks and you explain what you were seeing.
"Do you think they're from Daehyun?" You scoff, "Fat chance."
You open the envelope to read the card aloud,
'To the hottest girl. We should get donuts sometime, I heard you like them cream-filled ;) Text me sometime xxx-xxx-xxx. -J.K'
Sunny squealed in your ear.
"I'll call you back." You say, dialling Jungkook's number.
"Hello?" He answers.
"You got me flowers?" You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face, and he could hear it. He closed his fridge and leaned on the counter, "You like 'em?"
Holding the vase in your hand you take a deep sniff, "I love them."
He shakes his head. "This is so sad. You're too easy to impress. Let me treat you better than that jerk, Y/n." Your mouth falls open-
"How- What?"
"Jimin mentioned the details to me but don't get mad at him; it doesn't change the fact that the guy is an asshole." You sigh.
"I know."
"So?" Jungkook starts, waiting for you to say something.
"I think you mentioned something about cream-filled donuts. When and where?"
He smiles.
3K notes · View notes
yzzart · 7 months
Text
between white sheets.
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.
summary: a lazy morning with your boyfriend after a long night.
word count: 721!
notes: just a quick little thing, i thought of this scenario and here it is.
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"Oh, i know you're awake…"
A typical and familiar British accent, with a deep and smug tone, vibrated against your bare neck; causing a kind of tickling and a wave of goosebumps in the region. — It was impossible not to squirm against the soft, fragrant sheets.
Even with your failed mission to pretend that you was still sleeping, your eyes remained closed but it was impossible to contain a warm and bright smile on your lips. — Your lips were traitors, you believed that. — And, in a matter of seconds and due to the lack of interaction, that smile turned into a loud and vibrant laugh.
Your neck received, once again, attention but now due to the small beard, not so annoying, that grew in the region of Tom's face; this time, an intense tickling sensation. — You tried to remove his face from between your neck with your hands but, unsurprisingly, you failed when he held both of you with just one hand.
Tom's laugh, which was muffled between your neck and pillow, joined against yours and echoed throughout the large and tidy room where you were staying. — Well, apart from just some of the clothes you guys had to wear to more TBOSAS opening night and accessories; the room was organizing. — And you swear, with the old, childish pinky promise, that you could listen to your laugh for hours.
Last night was so tiring, but so good; in fact, it was magnificent. — Once again meeting with the cast, giving interviews and taking countless photos with fans and in print; it was a special night.
Lifting his head and directing it towards the pillow, as it was in previous minutes, Tom finds himself observing the image before his eyes. — Your chest rose and fell gently, trying to recover and manage your breathing, your hair, with some stubborn and messy strands, spread across the pillow. — A radiant and fascinating scene for the eldest.
Not to mention, a sleepy smile on your lips. — If Tom had the opportunity and absolute power, he would stop time and stay like this with you forever.
"Good morning, my love." — His voice is hoarser than normal, and Tom wraps an arm around your covered waist, bringing your body even closer to his. — "How did you sleep, huh?" — He asks, giving small, loving kisses on your shoulder. — "The most beautiful woman in this world."
"Good…" — You replied, sleepy with red and embarrassed cheeks, and ran a hand through his hair; leaving a prolonged and attentive caress and then, moving your head, to leave a kiss on his forehead. — "What time is it?"
"I don't know…?" — Blyth raised his head and now you had the opportunity to admire his blue orbs so crystal clear, deep and enchanting; you found yourself falling even more in love with the boy every time his eyes met yours. — "Maybe it's eight, nine or even twelve hours?"
It was ironic to think that the clock was just a few steps away from the bed where you were and neither of you really cared. — Maybe it would be laziness, sleepiness or an excuse to spend more time together. — And the correct option was the third, no surprises.
Your eyes roamed between the dark locks and a few shy curls of Tom's hair, and all the comments about the idea of him actually opting to dye him blond — just like Coriolanus — played in your mind. — and every time they talked to you about this subject, you replied: "that wouldn't be a bad idea."
But, you always made it clear that you were the number one fan of his natural color. — And there were fans who agreed with you; you saw it on your social media and thought it was so funny and always showed it to Tom and the rest of the cast.
"What are our plans today?" — You whispered. — "… i'm seriously thinking about the idea of staying here all day." — In the middle of the sentence, you couldn't contain your laughter again; which this time was brief. — "Really." — Fatigue ran freely through your body and he wanted a long rest.
"Really?" — Blyth murmured, placing his face between your neck for the second time in a row that morning; you just nodded in confirmation, now felt prolonged kisses on your sensitive area. — "Then make your words mine."
4K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 2 months
Note
hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈
i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)
You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.
Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.
You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.
“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”
Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 
A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”
“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”
Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 
Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.
You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.
Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.
“I’m—”
“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.
You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”
The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”
He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 
He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.
“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”
“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.
“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”
“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”
“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”
You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.
“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”
Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.
He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.
It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.
“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.
You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”
“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 
“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”
You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 
“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.
“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.
“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”
Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.
It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 
But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.
“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.
“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 
Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”
The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.
“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.
Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.
His excitement makes you regret your answer. 
“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”
“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”
The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.
You nod once. “Sure.”
He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.
You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.
You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”
His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.
You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”
You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.
He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 
“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”
“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”
“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”
“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”
Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.
“Eddie,” he finishes for you.
“…Eddie.”
“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”
You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”
Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 
“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”
Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.
“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”
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waitimcomingtoo · 2 months
Text
Smell Ya Later
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else
Masterlist
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Whenever you needed a some space from your everyday routines, you packed up your stuff and spent the weekend in your room at the Stark Tower. You had spent the day shopping and picked up a few self care items, including a new body cream you had seen online. Once night had fallen and you felt you had shopped enough, you retreated back to your room and sat at your desk to look at the things you had bought.
“Let’s see how you smell.” You said as you twisted the cap off the body cream. You had barely raised the jar to your nose when Peter appeared the doorway of your room.
“Hey.” He greeted.
“Jeez. You scared me. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” You laughed and put your hand over your pounding heart.
“Yeah, I’m spending the weekend here to give my aunt some time with her boyfriend. But, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was walking by and wanted to come say hi.” He laughed shyly.
“Oh. Well, hi.” You smiled and gave him a little wave.
“Mm. Something smells really good in here.” Peter sniffed the air as he walked into your room. You were pretty sure this was the first tike Peter was actually in your room and that made you gulp.
“Really? I don’t smell anything.”
“Maybe it’s just the air. Girls rooms always smell good.” He shrugged.
“Are you in a lot of girls rooms?” You asked teasingly but were dying to know the answer.
“No.” He chuckled. “But I remember from going over to girls houses for group projects and stuff in middle school. Plus, Natasha’s and Wanda’s room always smells good when I walk by. Not that I go around sniffing everyone’s rooms.”
“I’m starting to think you might.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.
“I don’t, I swear. Did you just go shopping?” He laughed and leaned against your desk. You sucked in a sharp breath over the close proximity and nodded your head.
“I did. But I didn’t get anything exciting.”
“What do you mean? This looks very exciting. What is this?” Peter asked as he held up a fluffy headband with a large bow at the front.
“A headband to keep my hair out of my face when I wash it.”
“Oh. I thought it was a giant scrunchie. Or a really small tube top.” Peter pursed his lips as he turned the headband over in his hands to try and understand it.
“No. Neither.” You laughed shyly as you watched him touch your things.
“What’s this thing?” He asked and held up your heartless curls rod.
“It’s for heartless curls.” You replied, making Peter look at you in confusion.
“You know. Curling your hair. With no heat.”
“This tiny pool noodle curls your hair?” Peter asked in disbelief and held up the limp rod.
“Yes. You wrap it around this and sleep in it. Then you wake up with curly hair.” You explained and wrapped a strand of your hair around it to demonstrate.
“Okay. I’m getting closer to understanding. What role does this thing play in all of that that?” Peter asked as he picked up a claw clip from your desk and opened it a few times.
“You use this to clip the rod onto your head while you wrap your hair.” You informed him.
“Wow. Sometimes I feel like girls live in an entirely different secret world than boys. Like, I just put water in my hair and say I’m ready. But you guys have all these fun fancy contraptions.” He smiled as he played with a scrunchie on your desk.
“Yeah. I guess it is kinda fun.” You shrugged as you looked at all the silly contraptions laid out in your desk.
“Woah. What’s this thing?” Peter gasped and picked up your jade roller that was still in the package.
“It’s called a jade roller.”
“You’re gonna have to explain.” He said and looked to you for help.
“I haven’t tried it yet but basically you put it in the refrigerator and then roll it on your face to decrease puffiness in the morning.” You explained as you took it out of the box.
“And it works?”
“I don’t know. But it feels good.” You shrugged and rolled it up and down your cheek.
“I can’t imagine that medieval looking thing feeling good.” Peter mumbled.
“It does. Come here.” You beckoned him with your finger and he leaned down closer to your face. You smiled timidly at him as you rolled it up and down his face.
“See? It feels nice, right?” You asked in a soft voice.
“I’ve never experienced this feeling before.” Peter said and closed his eyes peacefully.
“You should get one.” You chuckled and rolled it on his forehead.
“I don’t know. Mr. Stark already made fun of me for my Lana Del Ray poster. If he sees this in my room he might think I’m a little weirdo.”
“Who cares what he thinks? He has a “nail girl” for his weekly manicures and pedicures. And I think it’s attractive when a guy cares about his hygiene. Which says a lot about my standards now that I say that out loud.” You realized and thought about that for a minute.
“Maybe I will get one then. Because I care about my hygiene. A lot. More than the other guys you know, I bet.” Peter bragged, making you laugh.
“I would not have a hard time believing that.” You answered honestly.
“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? You’re so pretty.” Peter asked as he gestured to all the things on your desk. Guy cracked a smile at his casual compliment but didn’t make a big deal out of it.
“It guess it’s like you said. It’s fun. I like using these things when I’m having quiet time by myself.”
“I like that. That’s something new I just learned about you. I also didn’t know your last name until right now.” Peter tapped a school paper on your desk that said your full name. You laughed as he stood up and headed towards your door. The moment was ending but it was the first time you really talked to Peter one on one in that way so you still took it as a win.
“Seriously. Something smells really good in here.” He said from your doorway.
“I think I smell it too now. Maybe somethings in the air.” You smiled shyly.
“Must be.” He smirked. “Goodnight, L/n.”
“Goodnight, Parker.” You called after him. Once he was gone, you stayed looking at the doorway with a starstruck smile on your face. You didn’t know what prompted Peter to talk to you all of the sudden but you were thankful to whatever it was.
The next day, you went downstairs for breakfast and found Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen. You stopped to talk to them for a minute as you finished rubbing your body cream onto your elbows.
“Ooo. You smell good. What is that?” Natasha asked you.
“It’s a body cream from that brand Sol De Janeiro. I’ve never used it before but it had good reviews.” You told her as you smelled your wrist to catch the scent again.
“Wow. It’s really nice.” She sniffed you again. “You smell like how Moana feels to watch.”
“Thank you.” You smiled. “But when did you watch Moana?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of luxury sunblock or every flower scented candle at Yankee Candle at once.” Wanda added.
“That description also works, thank you.” You nodded in agreement.
“That reminds me.” Natasha began. “I need to get a new perfume. I’ve become totally nose blind to mine and I can never tell-“
“Hey guys. Mmm. Something smells good. What is that?” Peter burst into the room suddenly full of energy while loudly sniffing the air. You smiled and waved at him and he immediately went over to you.
“It’s this one.” Wanda said and pointed to you. Peter put his hand on your back and stepped closer to you to taken whiff.
“Oh, yeah. It is you. You smell amazing.” He told you.
“Oh, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “It’s just my body cream.”
“God damn. It smells so good.” Peter gushed. “I’ve never smelled anything like that. What’s it called?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I could find out and tell you, though.” You offered.
“Yeah, sure. I probably wouldn’t use it because it smells like a woman angel that turned into a vanilla bean but I wouldn’t keep a jar around just to sniff. It smells amazing.” He insisted and moved close to you to inhale again.
“So you’ve said.” Natasha snorted and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as Peter put his hands on your hips and nose right on your shoulder to smell you.
“Sorry. I just really love that scent. It makes me feel like that scene in Ratatouille.” Peter said.
“What scene?” You looked over your shoulder to ask him and tried not to scream over how he was holding you.
“When that guy eats the ratatouille.” He said simply. “Holy shit, L/n. You smell like a flower that was dipped in crystallized sugar and then rolled in fairy dust. I could smell you all day.”
Just then, Tony walked by and saw how close Peter was to you. He frowned when he heard Peter sniffing loudly and rolled up the magazine in his hand.
“Down boy. Bad. Off of her.” Tony said as he smacked Peter with the magazine.
“But she smells so good.” Peter whined.
“No. Bad. Bad boy.” Tony shook his head and continued hitting Peter with the magazine.
“Fine.” Peter grumbled. “Bye.”
“Bye.” You waved to him as he left the room. Once you were alone with the girls again, they looked at you with raised eyebrows.
“What?” You wondered.
“How long has that been going on?” Wanda asked you.
“How long has what been going on?”
“You and Peter.” Natasha replied.
“What? There’s nothing going on between me and Peter.” You forced a laugh and looked to the side.
“Well he clearly wants there to be something. I have not seen a boy that down bad since high school. Wait, how old are you guys again? 14?” Wanda asked.
“22.” You corrected. “And Peter is not down bad for me. I’m pretty sure he likes this girl from his school.”
“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.
“Liz.” You answered immediately. “I mean, I don’t know. Who cares?”
“Oh, so the crush is mutual?” Wanda nodded in understating.
“No. Nothing is mutual.” You scoffed. “This isn’t liberty.”
“Oh, you have it so bad.” Natasha laughed at how flustered you were getting.
“Nuh uh. Maybe you like Peter and you’re trying to deflect. Ever think about that?” You asked her.
“Right. I like a middle schooler who cries to Lana Del Ray on weeknights.” She answered sarcastically.
“She has very moving music.” You defended him.
“I think it’s cute that you guys like each other.” Wanda said. “And it makes total sense for you to be together. You’re the same age and have a similar lifestyle. Why not tell him how you feel?”
“Because I don’t like him.” You insisted. “And he doesn’t like me.”
“If he doesn’t like you then why was he just using you like a scratch and sniff?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe he just likes to sniff things.” You shrugged. “Maybe that’s his thing.”
“Or maybe you’re his thing.” Natasha replied.
“Do you really think he likes me?” You asked them hopefully.
“I always kinda thought he did.” Wanda admitted. “And After that disturbing encounter, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s definitely into you.”
“Hm.” You hummed and thought about it. You’d always had a secret crush on him and he had no idea so maybe it was possible that he felt the same way about you without you ever realizing.
You spent the day thinking about what the girls had said. Your thinking was interrupted when Peter returned to your room that night and took a whiff of the air.
“Mm. Smells good in here.” He noted.
“I have a candle on. I mean, lit.” You corrected yourself and pointed to your candle.
“Don’t knock it over and burn your room down. That happened to Brittany Spears, you know.”
“Oh, I know.” You insisted. “I watch all the videos of her spinning in her living room.”
“Same.” He laughed. “What are you doing right now?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“I was gonna go grab food. Would you want to-“
“Yes.” You said immediately. You felt embarrassed for answering so fast but Peter didn’t seem to mind.
“Cool. Let’s go.” He said and nodded towards the door.
Thirty minutes later, you were sitting on a bench outside of Delmar’s with sandwiches and bottles of ice tea. Peter picked the place and you followed his lead when ordering because he seemed like a regular.
“And why is it flat?” You asked him as he held up his squished sandwich.
“Because it tastes better the flatter it is, duh. Try it.” He insisted and gestured to your squished sandwich. You gave him a skeptical look before giving it a bite.
“Okay. You might be on to something.” You admitted once you had swallowed.
“Thank you. Every few years my brain lets me have one good idea.” Peter said as he happily chewed his sandwich.
“What was the good idea before this one?”
“Chips in my sandwich.”
“I see. And are these ideas always sandwich related?” You chuckled.
“Wait.” He gasped. “Yeah. They are.”
“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you’re a natural born sandwich maker.” You shrugged.
“Maybe I’m Jersey Mike.” He gasped even louder, making you laugh. People were looking but you were too excited to be there with him to care.
“I was gonna say you’re Jared from Subway but I think he’s a pedophile or something.” You told him.
“What? No way.” Peter scoffed and pulled out his phone to google it.
“Oh damn. You’re right.” He realized. “Wow. Even Jared from Subway is a bad guy? Is no one safe?”.
“I mean, you could really say any male celebrities name and there’s like a 50% chance he has charges against him.” You shrugged.
“That’s so true. My record is clean, by the way.” Peter told you. “Until my identity gets revealed. Then I’m looking at a lifetime of property damages and breaking and entering charges.”
“Oh, for me too. I have trespassed more times than I’ve actually been invited somewhere.” You answered. Peter laughed and then looked at you fondly for a minute. You grew self conscious under his gaze and nervously cleared your throat.
“I’m sorry. I keep getting distracted by your perfume.” He admitted. “I can’t get over how good it smells. You smell like the freaking sugarplum fairy.”
“Thank you. You smell good too.” You complicated and nudged him a little.
“That’s because I stole some of Mr. Starks super expensive cologne before we left. He called me to his room once just to show me the price tag on it. I thought it was his social security number at first. And the bottle is so small. I thought it was stupid to spend so much on such a tiny bottle but now that I’m wearing it I feel like I really want to fire someone.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever felt that feeling.”
“Me either. Until today. I smell like a whole different tax bracket right now and I don’t know if I can go back to my Axe Dark Temptation spray. I don’t want to smell like the bourgeois anymore.”
“Thats so funny.” You chuckled. “Do you always take his cologne?”
“Never. Just for today because I knew I was gonna ask you to hang out.” He said before taking a bite. You paused and sat with the implication that he did something just to impress you.
“I’m flattered to know you stole for me.” You said with a coy smile.
“Well you always smell amazing so I didn’t want you to think you were hanging out with some stinky rat.” Peter explained.
“I would never say that about you. I must say, you’re the best smelling rat I’ve been around.”
“Since we live in New York, I’m taking that as a compliment and letting it inflate my ego.” Peter warned you.
“Your ego must be pretty big already though, right? If I was a guy your age who looked like you did and could do the things you can do, I’d be super annoying about it. Like, raise my hand in class using two fingers and ask a question that’s just a roundabout way to show off how intelligent I am kind of annoying.”
“Looks like me? Can you elaborate on that, please, miss?” He asked with a cheeky smile.
“You know.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Giant muscles. Giant brown eyes. I don’t know much about spiders but giant something else, I’m guessing. That spider bite served you well.”
“Stop. I’m shy.” Peter laughed and covered his face with his hands
“Come on.” You groaned. “You have to know you’re cute.”
“My aunt says I’m a handsome little lad.” He said and batted his eyelashes to make you laugh.
“She’s right.” You laughed. “But seriously. If my arms looked like that I’d only wear tight white shirts and ridiculously skinny jeans. And obviously slick my hair back like a Greaser. A full Soda Pop Curtis, if you will.”
“Oh, so you’re an Outsiders fan? This is me trying to maintain a regular conversation while hoping my heart rate returns to normal after being bombarded with compliments, by the way.” Peter said with a rosy blush on his face.
“I love The Outsiders. I’m still chasing the high I felt when my teacher played the movie for us in 5th grade and Soda Pop came out of the shower in the beginning. I think all the girls in that room remember that moment. I haven’t felt that way since.”
“Really? Never?”
“Maybe once or twice.” You smiled fondly at him.
“Well, to answer your question, I am actually a total loser at school and have an ego the size of a walnut. No one knows I can do the things I can do so I’m just another goofy goober on campus.”
“How can you saw you’re a goober when you’ve probably saved the life of every person in your school? More than once I might add.”
“Because I didn’t do that stuff. Spiderman did.” He explained. “When I’m on campus, I’m just me. It’s the only way to protect my identity. I have to let all the credit go to someone else.”
“Okay, I get not taking credit to remain humble and anonymous and what not, but what about all the other cool stuff you can do? I’ve seen you move a refrigerator with ease and casually run a mile without breaking a sweat. How do you resist the urge to show off all the time?”
“Because I wasn’t some sports star before I was bitten so it would be highly suspicious if I showed up one day and started dunking on everyone and breaking their ankles and third sports term. I only want to use my abilities to help people. Not to get popular.” He shrugged. As he spoke, you felt your crush on him turned into full blown infactuation. You’d always liked him from afar but now that you were getting to know him, he was even better than you thought.
“You’re better than me. I’d be doing backflips down the hallway and climbing on the walls. And if I got in trouble, I’d just be like “remember when New York wasn’t taken over by aliens? You’re welcome, bitch.” And then I’d swing away and probably kiss a cheerleader. Maybe even two.” You told him.
“Uh uh. My powers have definitely not gotten me any kisses from cheerleaders.” He laughed and shook his head.
“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?” You asked and couldn’t help but smile.
“No. My roster is empty. And I wish I could blame that on the Spiderman stuff but I can’t. I’ve never been lucky in that department.”
“I don’t understand that. You’re so…” You trailed off when you realized you were about to say too much. Peter looked at you with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.
“So?” He asked.
“So annoying.” You insisted. “And ugly, actually.”
Luckily, he understood that you were saying the opposite of what you meant and smiled in appreciation.
“What about you? You must have a boyfriend and 10 guys lined up ready to take his place the second he falters, right?”
“11 guys.” You corrected.
“Damn. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” He said and held up his hands in defense.
“It’s okay. How could you have known? But, um, no. No boyfriend.” You told him and watched carefully for a reaction.
“So you don’t like anyone at your school?”
“Not at school, no.”
“Oh. So there is someone.” He smirked.
“There may or may not be a boy. But he likes someone else so it doesn’t even matter.” You waved your hand in dismissal.
“Does he know you like him?” Peter asked. Your knees and elbows were touching as you sat together on that bench. You couldn’t help but notice he had gotten closer and closer as you talked.
“No.” You replied as you stared into Peter’s eyes.
“That’s obviously why he likes someone else.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee that if he knew he had a chance with you, he’d forget all about that other girl.”
“I don’t know. Do you really think that?” You asked skeptically.
“Definitely. He’d be crazy not to go for someone so…” He trailed off to give you a taste of your own medicine.
“So?” You shook his arm to urge him to continue.
“Ugly.” He replied. “Really, really ugly. Not pretty at all. Definitely not funny or charming. And a stinky rat. And ugly, if I didn’t mention that before. Ghoul like, even.”
“Thank you.” You smiled warmly, knowing he meant the opposite of what he was saying.
“You’re very welcome.” He smiled back. “So when are we doing this again?”
You did it again the next night, this time at a food truck you liked, and then a few days after that. That’s when Peter started giving you his weekends. You started hanging out more and more and grew to be close friends in just a short time. You lived at home during the week and could look forward to Peter’s almost nightly visits while he was on parol just to sit in your window and talk to you. He was so so consistent that you started leaving your bedroom door open just for him.
“I’m here. Don’t be naked.” Peter said as he climbed through your window one evening.
“I just got out of the shower. What if I was naked? Then what?” You asked as you rubbed your body cream into your skin.
“Then we’d have a funny story to tell at parties.” He said as he pulled his mask off. You couldn’t help but smile at the way his messy curls stood up on his head.
“Oh yeah? And what’s so funny about me being naked?” You teased him as you squeezed the excess water out of your hair with a towel.
“That’s not the funny part. The funny part would have been when my eyes sprang out from my head on slinkies and made an audible “boing-oing-oing” sound. Right before my head exploded and left a smoking stump on my neck.” Peter told you, making you playfully roll your eyes.
“Oh wow. Very Tom and Jerry of you.” You chuckled.
“A full Tom and Jerry. The only thing missing would be the little blue birds and or angles flying around my head but I didn’t say that one because it’s typically reserved for traumatic head injuries.”
“You’re stupid.” You laughed and shook your head endearingly at him. Peter smiled back at you
“You’re stupid.” He chuckled. “You smell good.”
You really liked being friends with Peter. The more time you spent with Peter, the more you found you could talk to him about anything. He seemed so interested in every little thing you said. You worried your crush suddenly taking an extreme interest in you might be too good to be true, so you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And do far, it had lasted two months.
“Hey you two. Are you gonna be hungry…” Tony trailed off when he assessed the situation in front of him. You and Peter turned your heads when you heard Peter’s bedroom door open, giving Tony a full view of the green face masks you had covering your faces. You were sitting on Peter’s bed and applying masks to each others faces so your hands were full of the green goop as well. Tony looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute but eyes kept returning to the giant pink bow headband Peter had on to hold his hair back.
“Oh.” Tony nodded. “Hm. Okay.”
“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved.
“I was gonna ask if you guys were hungry. But now I don’t know how to feel.” Tony said with a blank expression.
“We’re okay. We door dashed some food. Thank you, though.” You replied.
“No problem. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.” Tony snickered and closed the door.
“He doesn’t get us.” Peter rolled his eyes and smeared some of the face mask across your forehead. You smiled at the mention of “us” and stared into his eyes.
“He wishes he was gonna have clarified skin and minimized pores in 45 minutes.” You agreed.
“45 minutes? Oh shit. We should’ve brought snacks.”
“I can go grab some. I need to pee anyway.” You told him and hoped off his bed. You hit up the kitchen after the bathroom and raised the refrigerator for some snacks. When you shut the refrigerator door, Natasha was standing there watching you.
“So. Having another stay at home date with Peter?” She asked and pointed to your face mask.
“It’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re just two friends hanging out.”
“Right. And do you share clothes with all of your friends or just the ones you don’t have feelings for?” She asked sarcastically.
“He wasn’t wearing my pants that day, okay?” You sighed. “He just asked me to embroider little molecules into his jeans and then wanted me to sign my name. Which is very normal for two friends to do.”
“So that’s not his sweatshirt you have on now?” Natasha asked and pointed to the Museum of Natural History hoodie you had on.
“It is. But-“
“But. Mm hm, yeah?” She cut you off with sarcastic interest in her voice.
“Yes, but.” You stated. “It’s too small on him now that the bite made him all big and muscly. But his uncle bought it for him and it was too sentimental to throw away so he let me have it.”
“Oh. So he gave you an article of clothing that his dead uncle gave to him? That’s very platonic of him.” Natasha said before cracking a smile.
“I don’t know what you’re implying.” You played dumb.
“I’m implying that you two are dating but pretending you’re not.”
“What?” You forced a laugh. “We are not dating.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone with that. Why don’t you just call a spade a spade and make out already?”
“Because it’s not a spade. Your mom’s a spade. We’re just friends.” You insisted and felt glad your face mask was covering up your embarrassed blush.
You went back to Peter’s room with the snacks and pushed Natasha’s comments from your mind. Peter could tell that something was bothering but he didn’t push it.
You spent the next few nights at home but headed back to the tower to spend the weekend. You knew Peter would be arriving later that night so you got ready in your room while you waited. You scrolled on your phone while you did your makeup and came across an article on the body cream you’d been wearing lately. You started to read it but got distracted by the sound of people in the downstairs. You left your room and took the elevator down to see if it was Peter, but found Wanda and Natasha instead.
“Oh, hey. I was just telling Nat I got that cream you told us about. It just smelled so good on you.” Wanda told you.
“Did you? Tell me what you think of it. It works really well but I think I have to stop wearing it. I was just reading online that apparently it attracts….” You trailed off and pulled out your phone to show Wanda the article. You got distracted by a text from Peter telling you that he had arrived. You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the text as things started to make sense in your head.
“Attracts what?” Wanda asked you. You looked up to answer her but got distracted by Peter walking in.
“Spiders.” You told her as you stared at Peter.
“Hey, Y/n.” Peter greeted with a smile. “Come with me up to the roof. I have something to show you.”
Peter took your hand and started pulling you towards the elevators. You were still lost in thought but regained composure enough to look at the girls while you were being pulled away.
When you got to the roof, the sun was just beginning to sink into the city skyline, making for a peaceful atmosphere. There were some snacks set out and a sheet you recognized from Peter’s room.
“What’s this?” You turned to him to ask. He was already staring at you and watching carefully for a reaction.
“You said you’d been so busy with homework lately that you don’t even realize when it becomes night so I thought we could take a mental break together and watch the sunset.” Peter explained with a sheepish smile. You lit up when you heard his plan and forgot all about the article.
“You planned this for me?”
“I didn’t want you to work yourself to death. You’re gonna do fine on your finals. You’re the smartest person I know. Other than, like, the two super genius’s I know. But you’re definitely up there.” He assured you. You broke into a smile and threw your arms around him to thank him. He stumbled back a little a before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back.
“Thanks, Peter. This is really sweet.” You said and pulled away just enough to look at him. You stayed with your arms wrapped around each other as the sun began to set around you.
“You’re very welcome.” He said with a fond smile. You stared into his eyes and felt his magnetic force pulling you towards him. Peter’s eyes dropped down to your lips before a rosy blush covered his face. You couldn’t believe what was about to happen was actually happening. He started to lean in and cracked a smile just before your lips could touch.
“God, you smell amazing.” He whispered to you. You snapped out of your trance and took a step back from him.
“Oh my God.” You gasped. “I knew it.”
“Wait, what? Knew what?” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt that the moment had ended.
“You don’t even like me. You’re just attracted to my delicious smelling body cream!” You shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at him.
“Woah, what? I have been accused of so many things but that is truly a first.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense.
“I bet this whole thing was a set up just so that you could sniff me!” You gasped and pointed his picnic.
“What are you even talking about?” He matched your tone and pulled his hair in exasperation. You put your hand over your heart to catch your breath as you looked between him and his setup. Everything made sense now. Peter started talking to you the moment you opened up that jar of body cream. He only wanted to hang out with you once you started wearing it. And as you stood there on the roof with him and realized it never had anything to do with you, you felt gutted.
“I thought…I thought you liked me.” You said in a quiet voice as your face sank with disappointment. Peter turned red all the way to his ears and laughed in embarrassment.
“I do like you.” He said quietly.
“But not for me.” You shook your head. “For the way I smell.”
“What? That’s crazy?” He laughed is dismissal. You rolled up your sleeves and walked back over to him to hold your arm under his nose.
“You like this.” You told him.
“Damn, that smells good.” Peter whispered as he took in your scent.
“See? It’s my body cream. It attracts spider. Whatever is lingering in your DNA from the bite makes you attracted to this specific scent.” You grumbled as you pushed your sleeves back down.
“Huh. That explains why I got a boner in Sephora the other day.” He realized.
“Why were you in Sephora?”
“I was getting us more face masks. I even used your email so you could get the points.”
“You did?” You asked and cracked a smile. Peter looked at you sympathetically and took a step towards you.
“I had a whole night planned for us. I was gonna bring you up here to watch the sunset. And I brought snacks you like. Even disgusting Salt and Vinegar chips.”
“I love those.”
“I know you do, for some odd reason. And once the sun had set, I was gonna go downstairs with you to do the face makes. I got you a panda because you like them and mine looks like Hello Kitty, see?” Peter said and he pulled the masks out of his bag.
“Very impressive selection.”
“I know. Once we had them on, I was gonna tell you that you’re the only person I don’t feel like I need to wear a mask with. Or you’re the only person who makes me feel the way I do when I’m wearing my mask. In parenthesis, my Spiderman mask. Which implies you make me feel invincible. I don’t know. It was gonan be some mask related metaphor that I was hoping would come to me in the moment.”
“Why did you need a mask related metaphor?”
“So I could ease the tension and segway into telling you that I like you.” He admitted with a timid smile.
“You do?” You asked skeptically. Peter nodded his head and put his hands on your shoulders.
“I wouldn’t do all this for you just because I liked the way you smell. And believe me, I love the way you smell. If I could shrink you down using the Honey I Shrunk the Kids machine and shove you up my nose, I would. But I like a million other things about you too that don’t involve the olfactory bulb.”
“Then how come we only started hanging out once I started using the body cream?”
“Okay, I’ll admit, I got a whiff of the body cream and basically floating in the air down the hallway into your room like a cartoon pig being lead to a pie.” Peter prefaced. “But that was just the first time you wore it. It gave me the confidence to ask you to hang out which is something I’d been wanting to do since we met. And once we started hanging out and I learned all these new things about you, I liked you even more. Which I didn’t know was possible because I was already listening to Lana Del Ray and pretending you wrote the songs about me. When you started smelling divine, that was just the icing on an already big cake. I’m talking Cake Boss level size cake that’s mostly made of Rice Krispies and plastic tubes.”
“So now I’m divine? I thought I was ugly and not funny or charming at all.” You teased him as you stepped even closer.
“You’re right. I still find you very unattractive and don’t want to be your boyfriend and l definitely don’t want to kiss you-“
You cut him off by pulling him by the shirt into a kiss. He stopped talking immediately to kiss you back, putting his hands on your face to pull you closer.
“You smell so fucking good.” He growled and pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
You and Peter eventually retired to the sheet to watch the rest of the sun set. You laid on his chest and listened to his heart beating while the scent of his cologne filled your nose. You went back downstairs hand in hand once the sky was dark and passed by Wanda in the living room.
“Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled at her as you and Peter walked by.
“Goodnight.” She replied and waved her fingers. Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at Wanda.
“Woah.” He smiled. “You smell really good, Wanda. What do you have-“
“Oh, no you don’t.” You cut him off and pulled him by the back of his shirt away from her.
“It’s the cream.” Peter said in defeat. “I’m defenseless to the cream.”
Tag List 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke
 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @leilanixx
@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
@mathletemadison  
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr
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@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
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sttoru · 9 months
Note
dad!Toji losing megumi on his sight in a grocery store.
⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff.
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“where the hell did that brat go. . .” toji sighs in frustration as he makes his third trip around the numerous aisles, peeking through each gap between to see where his son could’ve possibly hid.
you had been gone for one minute to grab something you had forgotten in the car, leaving your husband and son alone at the grocery store. you thought toji would be more than capable of keeping an eye on megumi during the time you left.
he did succeed for a couple seconds, but then somehow lost sight of the little boy. it happened out of the blue—even for someone as quick as toji, his child seemed to have disappeared into thin air, without him noticing at all.
“tsk, just wait ‘til i catch ya..” toji scoffs and makes quick strides. the other customers seemed to scurry off to the sides as the dark-haired man passes them—the reason for this being his bulky and tall body and that cold yet pissed off expression on his face whilst walking forwards.
of course, toji was still secretly worried for megumi. he didn’t want to think of the worst case scenario at all. he needs to stay calm and collected in such situations. panicking will do him no good.
toji passes by a pit of plushies, paying it no mind until he hears a soft, muffled giggle from that same area. he stops in his tracks and turns his head to the right. that voice was one he could recognise from miles away.
“oh, y’re so done.” the dark-haired man mutters under his breath and digs through the many plushies, hands looking for the source of that giggle. there were a couple strands of dark blue hair sticking out from between the big stuffed animals and toji wasted no time, “c’mere, brat.”
he uses a bit of his strength and fishes out a child from under the pile of softness—his child.
“papa!” megumi squeals and was holding onto a plushie: a cute black dog one. it seems like he had waddled off and climbed onto the box to grab that specific plushie, but couldn’t get out afterwards, “papa, waf! waf!”
toji sighs and holds megumi up by the back of his shirt, walking back to your shopping cart. he gains some stares due to the obscure way he was carrying his son around, though megumi himself couldn’t care any less as he cuddles up to the plushie in his tiny arms.
toji puts the little boy in the baby seat and grabs onto the stuffed animal, tugging at it; “gimme that. ya can’t have it ‘cause ya ran off without tellin’ me.”
megumi whines and pulls the toy back in his arms, giving toji a pleading look. his lips formed a desperate pout and his eyes were starting to glisten with tears that appeared on his waterlines.
“yeah, stare at me all you want with those big bug eyes—y’re not gonna get that.” your husband shakes his head and grabs the plushie again, taking it away from his son to put it back.
megumi reacts to this by curling his chubby hand around toji’s index finger—still with that cute pout on his lips whilst trying to prevent his dad from stepping away. it’s specifically those shiny blue orbs that seem to mellow toji’s heart to the point he almost gives in.
“…”
you come back after five minutes and spot your family back in the candy aisle. the duo didn’t appear to have seen you yet since they were busy picking out some sweets for later.
“hi, my angels.” you creep up behind toji and tap his back. he instantly steps aside and your (surprisingly) super excited son comes into view.
megumi was smiling widely and that’s when your eyes land on something in his arms.
“oh, you got ‘gumi a dog plushie!” you gasp and seem to get excited for your child—megumi giggling right alongside you, “how nice!”
toji rolls his eyes, though wasn’t about to admit that he eventually did give in to megumi’s adorable tactics. he gently flicks the little boy’s forehead and looks back at you;
“didn’t get it for him out of my own free will.” your husband grumbles and then continues to squish megumi’s cheeks together using one hand, “this little brat threatened me.”
“i’m sure he did.” you chuckle and nudge toji’s side with your elbow. you knew just how much of a softie really is for his son.
“i’m not lyin’,” toji replies with a sigh and pushes the cart ahead, you following next to him with a smile, “he threatened me with those big eyes of his. i’m tellin’ ya, that stuff is dangerous.” —for my heart, he adds in his head.
you couldn’t contain your laughter as you hear your lover’s words. your gaze then lands on megumi, who was contentedly staring up at both his parents, cuddled up to the big stuffed animal.
“good job.” you gave megumi a thumbs up and ruffle his hair as a reward. the kid sticks his tongue out and almost looks proud of the fact that he got his way in the end.
toji really was just a big softie for his son. and for his wife as well, of course.
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strang3lov3 · 5 months
Text
Lather
(Inspired by our curly, long-haired Pedro with his broken wing) When Joel injures his shoulder, he needs your help washing his hair and getting off 🧴🧻💦🧼🚿🛀(4k)
Part one of a new mini series!!
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Tags- shoulder injury, forced proximity, hair washing, handjobs, blowjobs, Joel finishes little too early, sexual tension, masturbation, pissed off joel, impish reader as per ushe. Joel starts out soft and gentle, this will not last long. Just you wait for part two, mwahahahahah!!
A/N- This new series is written for and inspired by my very dear friend @noxturnalpascal , please do not eat Pedro’s fucking hair. I’m begging you. And thank you @tightjeansjavi for the title name!!
Generously edited by my dear friend, the lovely @papipascalispunk
You’re at the dinner table, watching Joel awkwardly cut his chicken and potatoes with the side of his fork, held by his left hand. He brings the food to his mouth kind of slowly, deliberately, like he has to consciously think about where his fork will end up. He catches your watchful gaze and looks at you, “What?”, he scowls.
You shrug, “Nothing.”
“Quit lookin’ at me,” he huffs, “Creep.”
You’ve been living in Jackson with Joel and Ellie for quite some time now. Ellie’s got the garage and the downstairs bathroom to herself, you and Joel live in separate bedrooms upstairs. It works out. Kind of. The stairs are an issue. They’re old and steep, kind of slippery. It was only a matter of time before someone slipped and fell, and last week, that’s exactly what Joel did. Early one morning, he had misstepped and totally ate shit, landing hard on his right shoulder. You rushed to help him, but Joel shrugged you off, insisting he was fine. But you could hear in his voice he wasn’t, how he strained to speak. And in the following days, you noticed how his routine changed in the aftermath of his injury. He’s been favoring his right arm heavily, eating, cooking, opening doors, picking things up all with his left hand, rarely his right. 
Ellie gets up from the table to rinse her plate. When she passes you and Joel on her way back to the garage, she stops next to Joel and just stares at him, a look of confusion and disgust on her face. She reaches her hand forward, pushing her fingers slowly through his hair and watching the curls stand up straight. Joel freezes before turning to look at her, perplexed and irritated. “What’s the matter with you?”, he asks. 
“Gross,” Ellie giggles, still playing with his hair. He swats her hand away. 
“Yeah, shut up,” Joel grumbles, “You’ll have gray hair one day too. It ain’t that funny.”
“I’m not talking about the color. Your hair is disgusting, Joel. It’s like, sticking straight up. Are you hydrophobic or something?”
“Leave me alone,” Joel tells her, “Go do something. Go play in traffic.”
“You smell like you’re hydrophobic,” Ellie retorts as she continues towards her room. 
You turn your attention back to Joel, who looks insulted. Subtly, he turns his nose to his armpit to smell himself and then checks his reflection in the window, using his left hand to mess with his curls. He notices you staring at his reflection as well, “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”, he asks defensively as he messes with his hair a little more, flipping the mess to one side of his head, then to the other, rubbing the strands between his fingers. Joel sighs deeply then, gets up from his seat, and – using his left arm – he drags his chair across the kitchen and sets it in front of the kitchen sink. “I need help,” he confesses in a tone hardly audible, like he’s sheepish and uncomfortable. Disappointed, too. 
“What?”
“Washin’ my hair,” he speaks louder this time, “It’s hard with my uh…shoulder. I need your help.” 
“Took you long enough to as–”
“Knock it off,” he interrupts. It was probably around day four post-staircase incident that you noticed Joel’s hair taking on a more dirty appearance. You stare at his hair a lot lately now that he’s growing it out for winter. His hair curls in all sorts of directions, little cowlicks all over his head. The ringlets at the bottom of his neck are your favorite part. How gorgeous they look with the multitude of colors on his head. Deep, chocolatey brown with highlights of caramel and silvery gray streaks. With resources being fairly scarce even in Jackson, Joel doesn’t wash his hair every day, which is honestly fine for him. However, the days that he does wash his hair, he struggles to scrub his scalp properly with just his left hand, hence the dirty and greasy appearance. And really, it doesn’t look that bad. Probably feels worse for him, though, all that schmutz built up. Probably itchy and uncomfortable. 
You take your plate to the kitchen sink and give it a quick wash before drying it and putting it away. Joel sits in the chair he’s placed in front of the sink, and reaches behind himself for the dish soap, then kind of just puts it in your hand. You look at Joel, tilting your head in confusion. Sure, it's slim pickings for resources, but there’s a reason you’re close with the soapmaker here in Jackson. It’s the little things that keep you going; one of the little things being fruity scented shampoo that the soapmaker hooks you up with. 
You place the soap back on the kitchen counter and leave quickly to grab your shampoo, then come back to meet Joel at the sink. Joel looks at the bottle of shampoo in your hand, “What the hell is that?”, he asks. 
“My shampoo. It smells kinda like strawberries, see?”, you open the cap and squeeze the bottle to waft the scent towards him.
 Joel scrunches his nose, “It’s too girly.”
“You’re too girly,” you taunt, and Joel rolls his eyes. “Beggars can’t be choosers. I’m washing your hair, so I get to pick the shampoo. It’s like a spa night,” you chirp happily. 
“Nope, not a spa night,” he replies harshly, “Just wash my damn hair. No funny business.” When you stare down at him, unimpressed with his attitude, Joel backtracks, “Please,” he begs. 
“Spa night.”
“Fine,” Joel sighs in defeat and leans his head back into the sink, scooting down the chair. He looks deeply uncomfortable already, putting his weight on the left side of his body and raising his shoulder up and away from resting on the sink. Poor guy. You turn on the sink and begin to run the water over his scalp with the detachable faucet, but Joel yelps in pain. “Hot, s’ way too hot,” he says loudly, craning his neck away from the stream. 
“Sorry,” you apologize, quickly turning the faucet lever in the other direction. 
“Cold, cold, Christ—cold,” Joel hisses as he reaches behind himself to try to haphazardly adjust the lever himself, swatting his hand violently. He ends up hitting your hand instead, resulting in you dropping the faucet on his forehead. He yelps again and quickly sits up straight, water flinging across the room from his wet hair. “This isn’t gonna work,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Think we need to get this over with in the shower.”
“I think that’d work better,” you agree. 
So, you and Joel make your way upstairs, you’ve got your fruity shampoo in your hand. Joel’s wet hair drips down his neck and back as you follow him towards the bathroom where he turns on the shower, letting the water warm up. He shuts and locks the bathroom door before unbuttoning his flannel, again with his left hand only. Turning away from you, you watch Joel twitch and wince in pain as he tries to take off his undershirt. It kind of makes you sad, seeing him struggle like this. You wish he would have asked for help before now. “Joel?”, you tap his back. 
“Hm?”, Joel turns around and you reach his right arm. “Oh,” he says. Carefully, you do your best to painlessly help him out of his shirt, pulling his sleeve towards your body and keeping his arm as low as can be. You pull the rest of the shirt off of his body, catching a glimpse of his torso, his soft, pillowy belly. “Thanks,” he mumbles. 
“No problem.”
“I uh–,” Joel begins, turning away from you again and undoing his belt, “I’m gettin’ undressed and gettin’ in, okay?”
“Am I getting in there with you?”
“I’d reckon that’s probably easiest, yeah. And if ya don't wanna get your clothes wet, then you can take 'em off too,” Joel offers, “I don't wanna make you uncomfortable, so I'm keepin’ my eyes shut and facin’ the shower head the whole time so I don’t see anything I'm not ‘sposed to.”
“I appreciate that,” you reply. You’ve been through a lot with Joel, and truth be told, you’re both past the point of modesty, all that you’ve been through together. You have endless trust and respect for each other. Still though, you appreciate what he’s doing to keep you feeling safe and comfortable with him. A lot can be said about Joel, but he’s never been anything but respectful and considerate towards your safety and comfort. It doesn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll undress. Just give me a minute.”
“Not a problem,” Joel says. You face away from him as he takes off his belt, it lands with a clatter on the floor. Next his jeans and boxers, then each of his socks. You hear the sound of the shower curtain moving and his heavy footsteps in the bathtub. “M’done. Eyes stayin’ closed now.”
“Okay,” you say as you look at Joel through the shower curtain, unable to see much. You have no doubt he is, in fact, squeezing his eyes shut, but you smile to yourself when you notice where his arms lie. They’re resting across his body, his hands cupping his member securely. Oh, Joel. He’s a grump, but a gentleman nonetheless. 
After taking off your own clothes and leaving them in a pile on the floor, you move the shower curtain aside and step inside of the tub. It’s a tight fit, despite being relatively spacious. There’s a built-in bench to the side of the shower where your soaps sit. Joel always complains you have too many lotions and potions taking up space, that they always fall on his toes when he bathes. Dramatic. 
 Immediately you’re in awe of Joel’s beauty. You can’t see his face, but you can see his back, freckled and scarred and striped with stretch marks here and there. Water trails down his neck and his spine. You can’t help but steal a peek of his ass, so firm and plump. He’s blessed, truly. 
“Doin’ okay?”, Joel interrupts your thoughts. 
“Oh– yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Gonna shampoo you now.”
“Get to it,” he tells you. 
You reach for your strawberry shampoo and squeeze a small amount into the palm of your hand, then reach up to lather it into Joel’s scalp. “I need you–”, using your hands to guide Joel to tilt his head back, “Yeah, like that. Thanks.”
“Mm,” he hums in response.  
You begin to wash Joel’s hair, building up a thick lather of bubbles. You pay special attention to the sides of his head, down towards his neck, scratching and massaging his scalp. It’s almost imperceptible, but you hear a slight groan, a soft exhale of relief as you scrub Joel’s head. Washing the hair near his neck, you toy with his curls, wrapping them around your fingers and watching them bounce and swing when you pull your hands away. You’re about to reach for more shampoo when you really see it– the bruise on his shoulder. It’s yellowing now, but there are still purple and blue splotches of his skin. “Fuck, Joel,” you mumble, tracing your fingers lightly over his bruise.
“Yeah, yeah.”
It was an accident. You know this, so you’ll spare Joel from your long-winded lecturing about taking care of himself. Instead, you just press a soft kiss to his bruise. 
“You– I um–”, Joel clears his throat, a little bashful now, “Need you to wash up by my hairline, f’ya wanna come up front here.”
“Yeah, of course,” you speak softly. You begin to scoot past Joel, but the tight fit of the two of you in the shower makes it difficult to move. You slip and reach for Joel’s arm. 
“Careful,” he warns you softly, “Here, I gotcha.” Joel, still keeping his eyes shut, holds your waist and helps guide you to stand in front of him. When you’re situated, he quickly protects his modesty once again.
You grab some more shampoo and reach for the front of his scalp. This time, you can admire more of him. His face, eyes scrunched tightly shut. Careful not to look at what he’s not supposed to. That little line between his eyebrows is more deep and prominent than usual. Water drips down the slope of his aquiline nose and his plump, rosy lips. Droplets cling to his wiry salt and pepper facial hair. He’s a work of fucking art. When Joel’s properly shampooed, you reach for the detachable shower head and start to rinse his hair, watching the strands fall on his forehead. 
You’re not sure exactly what happens, but in an instant, Joel is unexpectedly groaning and reaching for the shower head from your hand. You step back and watch him scramble to wipe his eyes and blink quickly. “Fuckin’, ahh,” he hisses, “Got soap in my eyes. Jesus.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“S’okay, was an accident. Fuck,” Joel hands you the shower head and then wipes his eyes a few more times before he stops and stares at you before him, not even thinking about his rule. Fuck. He shuts his eyes quickly, but the damage is done. His mind is swimming with images of your body, the drops of water rolling down the curves of your breasts, your hips, thighs. His cock hardens almost instantly, and he hurries to cover himself again. “Fuck. I’m sorry. It’s not cause of you.”
“Okay, Joel,” you reply calmly. 
Joel groans. “No, it’s not like that, you– you’re– it’s…My shoulder’s been hurtin’, y’know how it’s been.” 
 “Mhm,” you hum, knowing where he’s going with this, “It’s okay.”
“Haven’t been able to take care of myself, uh…in that regard,” Joel clears his throat before continuing, “So I’m just a little wound up– oh–”
Joel’s interrupted when you step forward, reaching for his wrists to pull them away from his member. “I get it,” you whisper, “I can help with that too, if you’d like.”
“Jesus, fuck–”, Joel hisses as you touch his hips, his thighs, skating your fingers along his skin. He moans softly when your fingers lightly touch his heavy balls, the base of his cock, then trailing them up his shaft. “Quit– fuck – quit teasing me, hon. Not a smart idea.”
“I’m not teasing you, Joel.” 
Except Joel’s not listening. All he can think about is how fucking good it feels to be touched where he needs it most. He reaches for your hand, but doesn’t pull it away. Like he’s at battle with himself, doing what he thinks he’s supposed to do, not that he actually wants to. He wraps his fingers around yours, encouraging you to grip his cock tightly. But with his brow furrowed, he looks conflicted. “Don’t know what’s gotten into ya, but–”, he says shakily, “Hon– you gotta stop cause, fuck–”, he breathes, “Don’t think I have it in me– fuck – to walk away from you.”
“You don’t have to, Joel,” you coo quietly as you grip his cock tighter. You lean closer to Joel, wrapping one of your arms around his waist. Joel opens his eyes then, and you kiss his cheek, still stroking his cock. His thick head is nudging your hip as you work him, “Why don’t you let me help you with this?”
Joel nods, sighing in relief as he gives into you, gives into pleasure.  He’s been hard as a rock all week. Left hand just doesn’t do the trick, but yours, your hand does just fine. “Lord have mercy,” he gasps, “Thank you.” Rubbing your hand up and down his cock, you kiss his neck, then lower, his collarbones and his chest. Lower still, sinking to your knees as you kiss down that soft and pillowy tummy of his, trailing your tongue along that patch of hair that leads to his cock. You take his thick base in one hand and his ass in the other, then press sloppy kisses to his blushed tip, flicking your tongue over his soft skin. “Sweetheart,” he warns softly, “Doin’ too much for me.” 
“I don’t think so,” you tell him innocently before trailing your tongue along a prominent vein of his cock. 
“I disagree,” he mumbles quietly. Oh, Joel. Silly Joel. As if you’d satisfy him with just your hands. But this is as much for you as it is for Joel. You’ve spent a lot of time daydreaming about him, kissing him and fucking him. He’s who you think about at night with your hand between your thighs. So no, taking him in your mouth is not too much. It’s what you both need. 
Joel hums sweetly as you guide him to your mouth, his thick head parting your lips. You toy with him, swirling, flicking your tongue, alternating between taking him deeply and more shallow in your mouth. He’s warm and thick, just like you imagined. His cock feels heavy in your mouth as you take him deeper and deeper, hollowing your cheeks to massage him. You love his smooth skin, how he squirms and his hips stutter when you slide his cock to the back of your throat. As he gains more confidence, he begins to draw in and out of your mouth slowly, an action encouraging to both you and himself. 
“Good god,” Joel groans as you work his shaft, one hand still squeezing his ass cheek, the other now fondling his balls, cupping and squeezing them gently. You hum against him, sending vibrations down his shaft. He reaches down, stroking your cheek with soft and warm eyes as you work him. His hand finds the back of your head, grunting as he inches you forward to take him deeper. 
 “Not lastin’ long the way you–”, he  chokes out, a stuttered string of profanities following as you feel his cock stiffen and twitch under your tongue, spurting hot ropes of his spend down your throat. It’s salty and warm and masculine, taking you by surprise. His orgasm surprises himself, too. You don’t mind, though. In fact, it’s flattering the way he’s come undone for you so quickly, so desperately. Poor Joel, so worked up and bent out of shape all week. Probably part of the reason he’s been so cranky.
He takes heaving breaths above you, his chest rising and falling steadily as he stares down at you in admiration. He’s got the kindest eyes. When you pull off of his cock, he offers his hand to you, helping you back to your feet. He thanks you again, then apologizes for finishing how he did. You assure him that you don’t mind a bit. “M’not gonna leave ya high and dry, you know,” he says, “You just give me a few days to get myself right and I’ll take good care of you. Return the favor and all that good stuff. Hm?”
Sure, Joel, you think, nodding to him. He nods back at you, feeling good and satisfied, already dreaming about getting you off in a few short days. How soft and wet your pussy will be, pulsing around his cock, all for him. He’ll make you come just as hard as he did, if not harder. He can see it now, he’ll have you falling to pieces under his tongue and his fingers. He just needs to fucking heal first. While Joel’s been favoring his right arm quite a bit, he still hasn’t been taking it as easy as he should have been. But he’s got a woman waiting on him now, and healing is his top priority. 
Joel smiles, you smile sweetly back at him as you wrap an arm around his waist for stability and set one of your feet on the ledge of the bathtub. His smile contorts into a confused frown as he watches you take your free hand and snake it between yours and Joel’s bodies, your fingers toying with your center. “Whatcha doin’?”, Joel asks. 
“Oh, you know,” you reply plainly. You sigh softly, tilting your head back as one of your fingers circles your hole. 
“No, no, no, no,” Joel protests, “No, thought you were gonna wait your turn.” 
“My turn’s right now,” you breathe, now dipping a finger into your entrance, curling it and swirling it around. “You’re not the only one with needs.”
“I know you got needs, hon, thought we just agreed I’d be the one to take care of ‘em,” he tries, “Right?”
“It’s alright,” you purr, “I got it.”
It’s almost cartoonish, how Joel’s expression turns from one of satisfaction and bliss to betrayal and astonishment. “I don’t like this,” he mutters, “It’s teasin’ me, you know.”
“Oh, Joel,” you whimper softly, your fingers now rubbing over your clit, “What don’t you like?”
“Uh, that,” he spits, “Don’t like hearin’ you moanin’ my name when I’m not the one touchin’ ya. Don’t like that at all.”
You pout, “Oh, you can touch me,” you offer as you take his left hand into your own, sliding it up your body. He thumbs the plump underside of your breast and glides his fingers over your nipple, feeling it harden beneath his touch. 
“Oh, real nice. You’re playin’ dirty,” he accuses, “You’re nothin’ but trouble. Shoulda known.”
You don’t bother replying as you begin to trace steady circles into your clit, dipping your fingers at your entrance to collect more of your arousal. Your fingers slip and slide through your folds with such ease. 
Joel growls, squeezing your breast harshly one last time before his arm finds your waist and he pulls you flush against his body. With your head still tilted back as you whimper quietly, Joel takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, biting and nipping at your hot, dampened skin. It only fuels you. “Joel,” you cry, “Fuck, oh my god,” as that warm, sticky feeling deep in your gut is beginning to build.
Joel watches you, conflicted. How sweet his name sounds falling from your lips with your broken, honeyed moans, but Jesus, he needs to be the one touching you like that, not you. He should have known it’d turn out this way, that you’d revel in having this one-up on him. Your fucking audacity. I made you come so hard you saw stars, and I’m doing the same thing to myself. And you can’t do a single thing about it. Ha. Ha. 
Joel holds you tighter when your cries begin to get louder as you reach your peak, your knees beginning to buckle. You moan frantically, loudly, and Joel watches you knit your brows together and your mouth drops open as you begin to fall apart. Your fingers massage your clit faster, harder, feeling that tension in your gut snap and splinter as waves of pleasure overtake you, washing over your body. With your eyes shut, you feel it deep in your stomach, down the back of your thighs, riding out your orgasm on your own fingers as Joel holds you close to his body.
When you finally open your eyes, Joel’s glaring at you. He says nothing. Deep down, he knew you’d probably end up taking care of yourself tonight, but in front of him? You’ve got some fucking nerve. 
When your breathing slows, Joel lets you go. He stares at you, unimpressed, mouth slightly agape. You take the opportunity to slide two of your fingers past his lips, letting him taste your sweet arousal on his tongue. His brows furrow and his eyes flutter shut as he groans deeply, hungrily. “Seriously?”
You nod with a smile, then press a quick kiss on his lips before shimmying past him to reach for your towel. You dry off and step out of the tub, and when you look back at Joel, he wears a scowl. 
“You’re the fuckin’ devil.” 
Next
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cutielando · 4 months
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summer love ~ theodore nott
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Summary: Spending the summer break with Theo proved to be the best decision you had ever made.
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
“Amore” Theo called to you as you were resting on the sofa in the common room, a couple of days away from the end of the school year.
“Yes, amore?” you mumbled, not moving your face from where it was buried in the comfy jumper Theo was wearing.
Despite it being summer, the dungeons were void of any warmth, the burning fireplace doing little as to heating up the spacious common room.
“What are your plans for the summer?” his voice was like a melody to your ears, being able to calm you down and soothe you in any situation needed.
“Don’t really have anything planned. Why?”
“I was thinking the other day, would you want to come spend the holidays with me in Italy?" his voice was soft, but it still made you tense up.
You knew about Theo's tumultuous relationship with his father and you knew how much his mother's death had affected him. You didn't think he would want to take you to his home, given that most of his happy memories and moments were spent anywhere but there.
"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother or anything, especially not to your father" you explained, hesitant about his request.
He nodded, sitting up to hold you better so he can also see your face.
"Amore, don't worry about my father. He's never around the house that much, you probably won't even see him at all" he explained, curling strands of your hair through his fingers.
You hummed, staring at the crackling fire while deep in thought. Spending the entire summer with Theo sounded like a complete dream, and you knew your parents would be more than happy to let you spend your summer with your boyfriend.
Theo had met your parents very early into the relationship. Due to the fact that your families were part of the same circle in the wizarding world, you all knew of each other. But the first time Theo met them as your official boyfriend, he immediately won them over.
Your father was particularly thrilled to have Theo in the family. He almost always stole him away from you when he would visit for the holidays, talking to him about God knows what.
Absentmindedly, you found yourself lifting your head from Theo's chest, gazing into his eyes.
"If I do decide to come, what would we do?" you asked, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen in his eyes.
A smile threatened to break out on his face, but he managed to keep it hidden for now, apprehensive that you would change your mind and refuse his offer.
"Well, we would stay at our vacation house right by the beach, we would travel to the most beautiful and history-rich places in the country, spend quality time together undisturbed, have amazing and constant uninterrupted sex..." you hit his chest at his last remark, making him chuckle and quickly kiss your forehead.
You giggled, nuzzling your face deeper into his warm neck.
As you laid there wrapped up in his arms, you couldn’t think of anything better than spending the whole summer with the person you loved the most.
“I’ll spend the summer with you” you spoke softly, kissing his collarbone.
Theo smiled to himself, squeezing you closer to his chest and burying his face into your hair.
A long summer awaited you both. A summer spent basking in love and happiness, away from the troubled realities of your lives.
♡♡♡♡♡
You knew that spending the break with Theo was going to be the time of your life, but you never thought it would be this perfect.
At the beginning of the summer, you had traveled all throughout the beautiful country that is Italy, visiting the most beautiful villages and cities, full of history and beauties to discover.
At first, you were a little reserved, not wanting to go overboard and make Theo regret that he brought you along. Only after he reassured you that he loved seeing you excited about traveling with him did you completely let loose and enjoy everything that Italy had to offer.
Of course, Theo being Theo, you would never leave a place without him buying you a couple of souvenirs. You almost ran out of place to carry them in your bag, but then he came to the rescue and purchased you an Extendable Bag, mainly to make sure he could continue showering you with gifts.
"I feel bad" you had told Theo after you were done visiting Florence and he had surprised you with yet 4 new gifts.
"Why?" Theo asked, genuinely confused.
"You're buying me so much stuff and you won't let me return the favor. I don't want you to feel like I'm using you or that you have to buy everything for me" you explained, fiddling with your fingers.
Theo couldn't believe his ears. How could he ever think that you, his innocent, soft and perfect little girlfriend, would ever think about using him for money? That thought was just simply not possible.
"Amore, I could never think that. I love buying things for you, your happiness and excitement make me happy. Your presence here with me is the best gift I could ask for" he sealed that promise with a kiss, and you didn't have any choice but to listen to him.
Once you had checked every single place you had wanted to visit off the list, it was finally time to retreat to his beautiful vacation house, where you would spend the remaining couple of weeks of summer break before school started up again.
If you thought his house was impressive, this one was straight out of a fairytale.
A gorgeous abode welcomes you both with a grand and gleaming door, poised to impress.
Within, a spacious living room bathes in natural light from floor-to-ceiling windows. Furnishings are arranged for cozy chats around a crackling fireplace. The kitchen gleams with polished counters, stainless steel appliances, and a meal-prep island. A formal dining room, with a dazzling chandelier, awaits culinary creations. Upstairs, bedrooms boast plush bedding and ample storage. Each room showcases a distinct decor. The master suite indulges with a spacious bath, including a soothing soak tub, separate shower, and dual vanities.
From the balcony, the fresh smell of the sea lingered in the air, the sand glowing under the hot Italian sun.
"I can't believe this is all ours" you whispered at Theo once you had taken everything in.
He smiled, walking over and enveloping you in his arms. "We have the whole place to ourselves. The maids have been instructed not to bother us, you have clothes here that I specifically picked for you, swimsuits so we can go swimming every day, dresses of every sort. I want you to feel at home here"
"Theo, my home is wherever you are" you cupped his face in your hands, leaning up and sealing your lips in a kiss.
Theo felt like he could cry in that moment. He had never felt a love like this since his mother had passed. He never believed someone could love him, someone as damaged as he was. But you did.
You saw past all of his anger issues, past the facade he tried to hold up and past all the walls he had built around himself for protection. You saw him for who he was, a boy who needed love, who needed someone to show him that he mattered, that he was important, that he deserved to be loved.
And you had vowed to be that person for the rest of your days, to make sure he would never go another day feeling unworthy.
♡♡♡♡♡
"Do you want to go swimming for a little while?" Theo asked, after you had spent the better half of the day in his bed, just enjoying each other's presence.
"Yes" you squealed, kissing his cheek before rushing to the closet in order to pick a swimsuit.
Theo chuckled and got out of bed himself, kissing your head on his way to the bathroom.
Once the both of you were ready, you started the small walk towards the beach, setting down your towels near the water.
As you discarded Theo's shirt that you had stolen, your boyfriend eyed you up and down and whistled, making you blush heavily.
"Stop embarrassing me" you mumbled, but Theo knew you secretly loved it when he complimented your body.
"I'm just admiring what's mine" he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands immediately tangling themselves in his curly hair. His hands slowly traveled down to your ass, giving it a light squeeze.
"Let's go" you took his hand and led him towards the water, enjoying the hot sea enveloping your bodies.
You spent more than an hour just splashing around in the water, enjoying the warm weather.
After you decided to get out, you both laid together on your towel, enjoying the sunset together. You were laying with your head on his chest, his fingers drawing shapes on your back.
"Thank you for bringing me here" you spoke up softly, not wanting to disturb the tranquil atmosphere.
"You don't have to thank me, I wanted nothing more than to spend my summer with you. Thank you for agreeing to come with me" he kissed your forehead, making you nuzzle even closer to his chest.
"I love you, you know that, right?" you spoke after a moment of silence, temporarily lifting your head from his chest to look at him.
He nodded. "I love you too, so much" he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss.
Best summer of your life.
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talesofesther · 5 months
Text
first in my heart
Astarion Ancunin x Reader
Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.
A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.
Word count: 4,7k
Masterlist
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"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."
It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.
To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.
And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.
Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.
He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.
Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.
It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.
⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆
The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.
The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.
You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.
With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.
"What are you up to, my sweet?"
The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.
The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.
You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.
Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."
You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.
Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"
The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."
Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."
He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.
⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆
Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.
You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.
Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.
He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.
And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"
A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.
You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.
⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆
It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.
The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.
When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.
You didn't.
You said you cared for him. You hugged him.
There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.
Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.
He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.
Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.
Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.
There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.
With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.
It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.
With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.
But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.
The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.
Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.
Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.
"Astarion?"
With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.
"Is everything okay?"
Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.
Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"
The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.
You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."
But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?
Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.
He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.
Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.
He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.
Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.
Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.
And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.
He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.
⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆
You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.
You could only hope he would adore it just as much.
It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.
Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.
You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.
Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.
You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.
With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.
You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.
"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.
He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.
You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.
"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.
You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."
His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.
"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.
A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.
You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.
"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.
For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.
You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.
"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.
Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.
"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"
You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."
A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.
You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.
Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.
The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.
A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.
He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.
People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.
Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.
Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.
You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.
Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.
"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.
"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."
Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.
There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.
Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.
You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.
When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."
You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us
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muzansfangs · 4 months
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Immoral cravings.
Starring: Nanami Kento x f!reader; Toji Fushiguro x f!reader; Hiromi Higuruma x f!reader;
Format: short-imagines;
Warnings: nsfw, age gap but the reader is 21, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, dirty talk, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, daddy kink, semi-public sex, hair pulling, spanking, marking the partner, power imbalance, immoral relationships, morally grey decisions and men, revenge sex, slut shaming, choking, overstimulation, breeding kink, implied reference to pregnancy (Hiromi);
Plot: they are older than you and you both know your relationship is not exactly healthy. The charm of an older man, a real one, the allure of having someone you should not even think about in such a lewd way were unbearable thoughts weighing on your conflicted mind, though. You gave in, in the end, allowing them to ruin you in ‘worst’ way possible.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Nanami Kento.
You always pested him during his lunch break. At first, it was unintentional. You just dropped by your father’s office to check out on him, walking down the corridor with that ridiculously short skirt. You were a sinful sight for him. He tried to ignore you, going as far as keeping on working and not flicking his gaze up to greet you.
However, not averting his eyes from the screen to soak in your curves was impossible. He started to loathe your beauty. The sound of your voice was enough to make his pants feel too tight. He did not blame you for striking up frivolous conversations with him, or wearing such provocative attires, though. At least, he did not accuse you of messing with him until he realized you had got the hint of what you were doing to him.
You turned into a pest.
Hopping onto his desk, defiant smile gracing your glossy lips, you made sure to spread your legs enough to let him catch a glimpse of your panties. Those stupid white panties, evoking purity and virginity. Did you think you could fool him? You were far from being a celestial being. You were a freaking demon relentlessly testing his nerves. But he was done with you and your pathetic entr’acte.
You were soon going to deal with the painful problem you caused him every single time you casually waltzed into the office with the only intent of driving him mad.
His hand latched onto the back of your neck, pushing your cheek against the mirror in front of you, was the clear sign of how much you had pissed him off. Your skirt hiked up to your hips, as your hands were firmly curled up around the edge of the sink, you let a strained moan leave your lips for a particularly hard thrust hitting your g-spot.
You had lost the count of how many times he had made you come, milking his dick deliciously to make it up for the pent up anger you had caused him.
“What is it? Don’t tell me you can’t take it” he growled, his lips fanning your earlobe as he geave your hip a squeeze, probably hard enough to leave some purple bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.
Your vision was blurry, as tears of pleasure brimmed up in your eyes, your make-up ruined at this point. His thrusts were punishing, the sound of his thighs smacking against your ass was so lewd you almost felt ashamed of yourself. Yet, you could not deny you had been craving him since the day your father introduced you to the workaholic Nanami Kento. The thought of him fucking you to oblivion had almost become obsessive at some point.
“Ngh— It’s too much, Kento” you whimpered, only for him to tangle his fingers through your hair and giving your strands a rough pull.
Mouth agape, cheek leaving the cold surface he had squashed your face against not too long before, you watched the man behind you stare daggers at you through your reflections in the mirror. You were a mess. Black lines of mascara staining your cheeks and your hair unusually disheveled were enough to make your stomach churn.
If your father found out about this you were screwed. Quite literally.
“You are taking it like the good little slut you are. Listen to this. — he rasped out, dragging his length a little slower down your dripping cavern to emphasize the squelching sound of your mixed juices — You are soaked, sucking me in so good. Be a good little girl and let me finish, hm? That’s what I deserve after enduring a painful bulge for six hours every fucking day” he stated, before pulling out of you until only his tip was buried between your folds.
You tried to open your mouth to speak, but when he snapped his hips forward, earning a scandalous high-pitched moan from you, nothing came out if not pleas.
“Gosh! Kento, o my God… It feels so good” you whined out, squeezing your eyes shut as you let him thrust into you once again, resuming that torturous pace that had knocked the air out of your lungs.
The blond man grunted, his cock twitching into you as he approached his incoming climax. His lips found the crook of your neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin as he even praised you “So beautiful, so obedient. You’re a good girl, after all” he chimed, before he stilled into you and filled you up.
Your inner walls tightened around him, your orgasm meeting his one as he held you close to him. It was not just hate sex. He wanted you. You were his precious doll. He wondered how was it even possible that his boss had given life to such a pretty, lovely girl like you.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, before your dad comes back from the lunch break” he whispered, pecking your cheek.
Toji Fushiguro.
He had overheard you complaining with his son, Megumi, countless times before you ultimately decided to break up. You two had your fair amount of problems, naturally, but there was one that had made Toji grin from ear to ear. Being into a relatioship with his son for four years had made you pretty comfortable around his shamelessly handosme father too.
Since you often slept over, Toji had suggested you to leave some of your belongings over. Back then it had sounded like a good idea. However, now that Megumi and you had, not so suprisingly, parted roads, you needed to get your things back and forget about that failed love story once and for all. You did not want to cross paths with Megumi and texting his father to ask when you could drop by to collect your stuff, without stumbling into your ex, was your only option.
When he told you Megumi was out for dinner with some friends, you did not hesitate to show up at the door with an empty box between your hands and an apologetic expression plastered over your face.
That gorgeous face of yours, your soft eyes and your sudden bashful attitude were such a delectable sight for Toji. He was shirtless, like most of the time, causing your cheeks to heat up and your eyes to rake down his abs not so subtly. Was it not immoral and pitiful to thirst after your ex’s father? Most definitely, but you were not in the mood to self-deprecate.
Not when, five minutes later, you ended up sobbing on a picture of you and Megumi eating cotton candy together six months before. You had loved him so unconditionally. You had spent the best years of your life with him, feeling glad every single day for having met him. But everything ended, right? Good things were not an exception to that rule.
Hearing your cries, Toji walked up to you, spotting your frail frame sitting on Megumi’s bed and crying your eyes out. What a perfect occasion for him to sneak his arm around your waist and drawing soothing circles on your back. Toji was not an overly affectionate man, not even with his son.
But he was there for you.
You did not even realize how it happened. All you knew was that, after drying up your tears with his lips, Toji was hovering over you. Your shorts had been tossed across the room, as his large hand had slithered down your stomach and past the hem of your panties.
His fingers, plunged deep into your core, stretched you out so deliciously, stimulating all the right spots to make you moan out in pleasure. You hated yourself for having made such a comparison, but your mind kept on screaming Megumi had never made you whimper like that, not even when he was sheathed deep into you.
“Fuck it, you’re so tight, baby. That stupid son of mine could not even fuck you good, right? — Toji cooed, his tongue invading your mouth to swallow your moans with a fiery kiss — Not even when he was balls deep into you? Tell me you want my cock, tell me you want me to stretch you out and I will” he allured you to give in, watching how your thighs quivered and your hips bucked up.
How could Megumi be that dumb to let you go?
“Please, Toji, please…” you meekly choked out, as he sighed and withdrew his fingers out of your soppy cunt.
You whined almost in contempt, but then you watched as he leisurely hooked his thumbs underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, dragging them down his muscular thighs, and your jaw went slack. His cock slapped up against his V line, veiny, girthy, making your mouth salivating.
“Let me make you feel like a woman. Spread your legs, pretty girl. Daddy’s coming for you” Toji instructed you, making you shivers and wonder what Megumi would have thought of you, if he caught you impaled on his father’s cock.
Your eyes darted on Megumi’s picture on his nightstand and shamed washed over you. No, no, you had to focus on Toji, not on Megumi.
“Oi, eyes on me. Don’t think about that boyfriend wonnabe” Toji scolded you, grasping your jaw roughly as he ran his the head of his cock down your slit to collect your juices.
You swallowed forcefully down, nodding your head as he grasped your ankles and settled them on the top of his shoulders. The touch of an experienced man could not be nearly be compared to that of a twenty-one years old man. Toji knew how to please a woman. The stretch was almost painful, but as he fucked you like that, folded in half, you saw the stars.
You squeezed his dick perfectly, your warmth engulfing him like a glove, as he groaned out in pleasure with every thrust.
“Look at you… So cute and going cock-drunk so easily. No, it’s not going to be the last time we do that, alright? I need to breed that sweet pussy of yours” he huskily said, grasping your lower lip between his teeth and tugging at it gently, asserting once again his dominance over you. Your orgasm, a powerful one after so long, came as a blessing, leaving your body numb.
Too far gone to articulate a speech, you nodded your head, while his hand wrapped around your neck and he finished into you after a few more sloppy thrusts.
You had no idea of the satisfaction he felt in watching his cum leaking out of you and staining his son’s bedsheets. Maybe, just maybe, he had thought about leaving it there for him to understand what his ex girlfriend and his father had been up to while he chewed on some insipid noodles.
Hiromi Higuruma.
He had always been there for you. Your father’s best friend, Hiromi Higuruma, was the man he trusted blindly around you, his daughter, his pride and joy. Everyone in your family appreciated him. Growing up, you had almost lost count of how many times he had joined family dinners and road trips. He was always there for you. Nor you, neither him, though, would have ever thought that in the future he would have bent you over his desk and fucked you to oblivion, scattering the papers carelessly to the floor.
Maybe it was because of his visceral passion, when he talked to you about his profession as a lawyer, that you had chosen to enroll to the local Law School. Everyone, even Hiromi himself, were ecstatic about your decision.
But ambition had pushed you far from home, making you explore other countries as an exhange student. You missed your family, your home, but you soon realized you missed him too. Reading through your textbooks, crying over hard exams, studying to exhaustion, you only thought about him. You wondered if he was proud of you, or if he missed you as much as you missed him.
Sometimes you texted him, he replied almost immediately, congratulating you for your brilliant career. You had become so beautiful. When your father showed him pictures of you, your body blossomed into that of a woman, he found himself cursing his name for the dirty remarks popping out in his mind.
The day you knocked on his office’s door, Hiromi lost the last shred of dignity left in him. You were astonishing, finally an adult young woman exuding a cunning aurea and charm. That tight black skirt and matching high heels you were wearing made his mind spin.
“My father told me you could teach me a thing or two. I’m struggling with a case” you started, your mild voice sounding like a wicked melody he would have listened to forver. He was rational. He knew he should have sent you away before you ended up ruining your relationship, but he could not bring himself to do it.
Human cravings demanded to be satisfied.
“Your father chose the right man for this task. By the way, you look stunning, if it was obvious” he remarked, clearing his throat and closing the door behind you.
The way your red-painted lips parted, your back straightened, while he led you down towards his desk gave away how you felt. He knew people’s reactions, he had seen enough victims and criminals, liars and murderers struggling with feelings in his life to say you were trying to camufflate how you felt or why you were there in the first place.
The moment you began skimming through your documents, all dolled up and finally a colleague, Hiromi fought his dark impulses. You would have looked so pretty bent over his desk, your ass squeezed in his calloused hands, as you moaned out for him.
Two hours into arguing over the best strategy to save your client from jail, his hand suddenly latched around your throat, pulling you close to his body. The sudden action made you gasp for air and blush, but as your hand landed flatly over his chest, trailing down his pectoral, arousal made you press your thighs together. You were so close, the thin fabric of his shirt barely concealing the outline of his chiseled body.
His hand was still wrapped around your throat, his hot breath fanning your lips so hazardously. No, this encounter was not going to end like one of your typical catch-ups. No, this time you would have not said a cheerful, sweet and innocent ‘Bye-bye, Hiromi”.
This time you would have screamed his name at the top of your lungs so erotically that he would have filled you up until his cum dribbled down your inner thighs.
“Your father was right. I’m going to teach you a thing or two today” he murmured, capturing your lips with his in a fiery, passionate kiss. His grip on your neck did not loosen for a second, when his tongue pressed unceremoniously on your lips, parting them and delving into your mouth to involve you into a deeper and fervent kiss.
You whimpered, hands clutching his shirt into your hands as he finally gripped your hips, hand reaching up to unzip your skirt in a hurry. There was no time to waste. You had to be his, now and every single time you crossed roads. When his hands cupped your rear, he groaned, kneading it with passion, as he spun you around to bend you over the desk.
“Don’t worry. When I meet your father, I won’t tell him how I almost fucked a baby into you tonight” he sarcastically commented, unbuckling his belt smoothly as you eagerly slipped your thong down your legs for him. His words went straight to your core, riling you up even more as you smacked the papers and books out of your way to make room for yourself on the polished wooden surface of his desk.
“How many women did you fuck over here?” you asked curiously, glancing at him from above your shoulder.
Hiromi grinned and kissed your neck gingerly, while the tip of his cock teased your bundle of nerves and the area around your opening, not pushing in yet. You were the biggest mistake of his life, but also the most beautiful one. You were a goddess, a flower he had watched blossom, a passion he had nurtured in your last year far from home, from him.
“I’m the one who asks questions here. That’s a cross-examination, princess” he reprimanded you, before delivering a harsh spank that made your body jolt forward. The edge of the desk pressing against your lower abdomen made you suppress a soft wince of pain.
The moment he finally entered you, his cock stretching you out gradually and with care, you arched your back and allowed your insides to embrace him tightly, almost as if you were scared he was going to pull out.
“Fuck… Your pussy should be illegal” he groaned, gritting his teeth as he bottomed out. With your ass pressed up against his pelvis, Hiromi lavished praises on you and the blissful feeling you were gifting him with.
And at the end of his feral, dominant thrusts, he made sure to send you back home with a gift too. Warm, thick, his.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! I’m finally exploring the JJK’s field better. I hope you enjoyed this scenario. Honestly, writing this down was a little hard considering how many times I got hot and bothered. Older men have always been my type. Also, the legal shit in there had to be added because, since I study Law, I wanted to make justice to my baby Hiromi. Anyway, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!
Until next,
x o x o.
TAGS: @doumadono @axesfordays @brittscafe @flakeygod @gyomeisfavoritespermcell @kr0wu @bleach-your-panties @buttercupmuffins @rebwwca
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
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aphrodisiac
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words: 3.5k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, stepbro!rafe, stepcest, drugging, noncon/dubcon, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, female receiving oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v sex, pregnancy, somnophilia, male masturbation, bit of voyeurism?, mention of plan b, reader is 19 (rafe is like 20/21 but its not explicitly said)
“hey, sis.” rafe calls from the bottom of the stairs. you peak your head out of your room, curls swaying as you look at him. “i made you dinner.” “oh, you did!” you squeal, bounding down the stairs to fall into rafe arms, giving him a big hug as he spins you. “you’re the best step brother ever!”
rafe loves your reaction. something as simple as him preparing some food for you has you hugging and thanking him incessantly, a big smile on your face, so appreciated of the little act. 
“no problem, sis. you’ll eat with me right?” rafe asks, having already placed the meal in the dining room, his plate at the head of the table, yours right next to him. he didn’t want to mix up whose was whose, for reasons you didn’t know yet.
“of course.” you nod, letting rafe interlace your fingers together as he leads you towards the dining room. you look at your place already set, another grin coming to your face. rafe made you soup and already got a big glass of water for you.
“thank you so much.” you hug rafe before sitting down, not realizing how much having your body pressed against his is affecting him.
“of course, bunny.” rafe says, leaning over the side of the table to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, not missing the way a blush comes to your cheeks.
you stir the soup before bringing the spoon to your mouth, blowing on it before taking a sip. “oh my gosh, rafey!” you smile at your brother. “this is so good!”
“im glad, honey.” rafe says, patting your thigh under the table before he works on his meal as well, letting out a breath of relief when you couldn’t taste what he had slipped in. “so, tell me about your day.”
“ugh, well i got into a fight with tiffy…” you begin to recount the details as you eat, not noticing that one of rafes hands stays underneath the table, just out of view as he grinds his hand down against his crotch, not able to control his cock when he’s around you, even your sweet little voice just explaining the drama of your day has him rock hard.
you don’t notice as rafes hand starts to jack up and down, his shoulder barely moving, his cock now free from his pants, praying he cums before you finish your soup, glad that you’re guzzling it all down. he wasn’t sure how much to put in, the secret ingredient he added just to yours. he wanted to make sure it took effect, but at the same time didn’t want to make you pass out.
“and then i took a shower.” you shrug. “boring, i didn’t do anything special. just shaved my legs and stuff. i did do a hair mask actually.” you touch over your curls, hoping they look a little shinier than normal.
“looks good.” rafe says, his voice hoarse, like he’s straining, and you make a weird face for a split second, trying to decipher if something is wrong before you shrug it off, immediately returning to recounting your day. “but i did use this new moisturizer all over, and it smells sooo good. like strawberries mixed with vanilla. just delicious.” you let out a small moan when describing the scent, not even realizing that rafe jolts in his seat, cumming into his hand as he bites his lip hard, barely holding back his noises.
“not as good as this soup though, rafey. thank you sooo much.” you reach over, rubbing your hand over his bicep. rafe quickly tucks himself back into his shorts, letting out an awkward cough.
“its no problem, really.” he shrugs. he feels a little guilty. you're so appreciative, and everything he’s doing has ulterior motives, but then you smile at him, and rafes cock pulses in his pants, and the bit of guilt goes out the window.
--
you sway towards the bed, wondering if you are coming down with something, your body warm, skin sweaty. you have already put on a pair of short pajamas, opting to skip the long set you usually like due to how hot you are.
you flop down on top of the covers, fanning yourself. you close your eyes, trying to sleep, but there's so much heat coming from you, especially between your legs.
“ugh!” you let out a groan, tugging your pajama shirt off to leave you in a sports bra, your shorts the next to go. you toss them off the bed and lay back, feeling like you can see your heartbeat through your skin.
you try turning to the side, hoping switching positions would make you fall asleep, but as your eyes close, so do your thighs, clenching them together as you grind back and forth, a delicious amount of pressure on your privates.
you quickly realize what you are doing and flip onto your back, panting heavily. you reach slowly between your legs. you've never masturbated before, but you've heard from your friends and movies what it is, so you cautiously rub a singular finger over top of your underwear when you suddenly press over a part of you that makes your entire body jolt, a moan forcing its way out of your mouth.
you try rubbing harder, focusing on the spot. you aren't even aware of the noises falling from your lips as your hand quickens, gasping out when you realize that your underwear is wet.
you've never felt the weird slickness between your legs before, but it helps your underwear rub easier over your skin, so you ignore it and continue.
before you realize what is happening, a damn breaks and a high spreads throughout your body. you scream out, limbs shaking as you rub yourself, realizing halfway through that this must be an orgasm.
you physically jolt off the bed when you realize that you just screamed out loud. it was only you and rafe in the house, everyone else gone for a weekend trip, but he must have heard you, his room right across the hall from yours, but you have more pressing issues as the orgasm did nothing to calm you down, immediately beginning to rub between your legs again.
you slide your shaky legs off the bed, knowing this isn't normal, the way your body is working. you must be sick, ill. you stumble out of your room and slam your body into rafes door, not caring that you fell into the wood, not when it's so cool and decreasing your temperature.
“sis?” rafe opens the door, and you quite literally fall into his arms.
“some… somethings wrong, rafe.” you pant, hands gripping at his shoulders as he holds you up.
“come in, come in.” rafe says, pulling you further into the room, kicking his door behind you. rafe maneuvers you to the bed, and the second you're sat down on the edge, your thighs are clenched together.
“i-i feel really weird. somethings wrong with my body i don't know, help me please.” you sob, chest rising and falling quickly.
“okay, okay.” rafe says, somehow not seeming surprised about the state you're in. 
rafe places a hand on your shoulder, and you cry out from the touch, feeling like your body is on fire.
“i must have ate something bad or-” you pause mid sentence, realization sinking in. you look to rafe with wide eyes. “what did you do?”
“come on sissy, let me help you out.” rafes thumb sweeps over your skin, forcing a shiver through your body.
“rafe.” you say cautiously, but it turns into a whine when he tugs on the strap of your sports bra.
“it's okay.” rafe says so softly. “im just taking care of you.” rafe brings his other hand to your torso, grabbing the bottom of your bra and pulling it over your head, your arms too weak to do anything but rise up and let him take it off.
you know you should cover your chest, but it feels so good to have your nipples exposed to the cold air as you let out a low moan. rafe pushes your shoulders back, and you fall against the bed without even trying to hold yourself up.
“such gorgeous tits, sis.” rafe leans over your body, hands coming to grip your chest, palms rubbing against your nipples.
“p-please.” you beg. “you're my brother.”
“just your step brother.” rafe bites back. “and i know you'd want me if your mom hadn't married my dad. i just needed to slip a little something into your soup to help you along.”
rafe isn't wrong, of course you find him attractive, but you did everything in your power to set that aside and truly see him as a brother, even if you didn't meet until well into your teens.
“you drugged me?” you squeal, pushing your chest into his hands as he massages his fingers into your plump chest, putting enough pressure to keep you down, not that you’re truly resisting.
“just a little aphrodisiac.” rafe glances down between your legs, your underwear completely soaked. “clearly it worked.” “just… just make me stop feeling like this.” you say quietly, ashamed of what you are asking for.
“yeah?” rafe smirks, immediately starting to move, pulling his shirt off and tossing it away. “gonna fuck you so good, sis.”
“you can’t tell anyone.” you remind rafe, even as your eyes gloss over at seeing his muscles. you sit up suddenly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you kiss him. you moan against his mouth, pulling him onto the bed before flipping so you’re on top. you make out with rafe, truly not sure if you’re even doing a good job, you’ve never taken anything this far with a guy before.
you grind your hips down over rafes crotch, feeling how hard he is beneath his sweatpants. whatever rafe put in your soup makes it for too easy for you to cum as you already feel your high building again, especially when rafe raises his hands to play with your nipples, pinching and flicking at them while you buck your hips into his.
you pull away from rafes kiss with a squeal as you cum, your knees pressing together around rafes hips.
“holy shit, that was hot.” rafe smiles up at you, a toothy grin that has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“just help me, please.” you beg. rafe nods, flipping you over onto the bed. you shuck your underwear off as he takes off his sweats, frowning when he's still covered by his underwear.
“ive wanted to taste you for so long-” rafe says, shoving your legs open as he lays in between them, his eyes on your soaked cunt.
“rafe, what are you gonna do-ooooh!” you shout as rafe lurches forward, burying his head between your legs. his tongue licks long stripes through your folds, lapping up all of your juices.
“never got head before?” rafe smirks, bringing a finger to your hole, teasing it by simply circling around.
“no, never done anything with a guy before.” you admit shyly.
“aww, baby.” rafe pouts up at you. “i didn’t know you were a virgin. that almost makes me feel bad about this.” rafes feeling doesn’t last long as his tongue is quickly back on your cunt, this time flicking directly over your clit.
you bring your hands to his hair, holding his face into your pussy as you grind your hips. rafe sucks your bud into his mouth the same time his finger plunges into you, forcing out yet another orgasm that has you screaming so loud you’re concerned the neighbors would hear.
“so, so good.” you whine, your clit feeling oversensitive but still filled with need as rafe continues licking and sucking, his finger now thrusting in and out of you.
“can make you feel like this all the time, sis. gonna let me fuck you after tonight right?” rafe asks, barely pulling away from you to speak, feeling the vibrations from his mouth on your pussy.
you don’t answer right away. you feel like you can’t truly give an answer, not when you are so turned on that you feel like you could explode, not as his finger keeps pumping inside of you.
“baby sis?” rafe looks up at you, waiting for an answer. you pull your lip between your teeth, trying to formulate thoughts. “or i can stop right now. if you don’t want to keep fucking me then you don’t need me tonight.”
“no, no, no!” you cry out as rafes finger stops moving. “i’ll keep sleeping with you just-just fucking move! make me cum again!”
rafe sucks your clit into his mouth as he forces another finger in, your walls tight around him but so slick he can move easily. rafe has to press his hips into the mattress as you cum again, giving some relief to his cock.
“fuck, how long until it wears off?” you cry out as your clit pulses.
rafe sits back, wiping his mouth against your thigh to clean his chin. “probably will feel better once i fuck you.” rafe says, in truth he’s not sure.
“fuck me then.” you beg, body squirming against the mattress, sweat leaking from your skin.
rafe nods, pulling his fingers out and kneeling between your legs. he pauses briefly before pulling his underwear off and tossing them away. “i can put a condom on but it probably won’t feel as good.” “just… just buy me a plan b tomorrow, okay? need you to cum in me, i think it’ll help.” you swallow nervously, knowing it’s a mistake, not just letting a guy fuck you raw, but your step brother.
rafe nods, draping his body over yours, knowing you are far too weak for any other position, your limbs jelly from the drugs and the orgasms. rafe reaches down, lining his cock up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, watching your face contort in pleasure.
once he’s all the way seated inside of you, rafe feels your cunt squeeze around him rapidly, another orgasm being drawn out. you pant heavily, worried this will never end as rafe swings his hips out and then back in.
“is it-is it always this easy to cum?” you ask. they’ve all felt so good so far, but you are beyond overwhelmed.
“you’ve never cum before?” rafe asks, grunting as you raise your hips slightly, letting him sink in even deeper.
“not before tonight.” you admit, glancing down your body to see rafes cock entering you repeatedly, making another orgasm rise to the surface as you reach between your legs, fingers pressing to your clit as you cum hard.
“not always, baby. but i promise i’ll make you feel real good, even when you don’t have any aphrodisiacs.” rafe presses his lips against yours, but it’s not really a kiss, not when you can’t stop panting, your jaw slack and unable to close.
“did you take anything?” you question, realizing how hard rafes cock is, how easily he’s pounding into you.
“no, you are just that sexy, sis. i’ve wanted to get inside you for so long.” rafe grunts, making sure he thrusts as deep as possible every time.
“i-i think i’m gonna cum again!” you warn rafe, rubbing yourself to another orgasm, letting out a squeal as rafe struggles not to cum with you tightening around him, needing to get at least one more out of you before he bursts himself.
“fuck, you’re so tight.” rafe groans.
“cum in me rafe, please. i need your cum.” you whine, back sliding up and down the mattress as he fucks into you.
“yeah?” rafe smirks. “need your brothers cum, huh?” you know his dirty words are meant to tease you, but you can’t help agreeing. “yes, brother, please, please.”
rafe shifts his weight to one elbow, reaching down with his free hand to swat your fingers away from your clit, rubbing himself harshly, trying to get you to cum at the same time, hoping that will satisfy you.
“close.” rafe warns.
you let out a scream, back arching off the mattress as you cum, triggering rafes orgasm as he shoots his load inside of you, filling you up completely, rubbing you gently throughout your high before pulling away. rafes cock softens as he pulls out, flopping on his back onto the bed next to you.
you don’t even give him a second to breath, straddling rafes hips and trying to get his cock back inside of you, but rafe winces as his cum drips out of your cunt. “sis, stop. too sensitive.” he warns.
“i-i still need you though!” you argue. “you drugged me rafe, you have to help!” “here, come sit on my face.” rafe tugs at your hips until you are hovering over his mouth. rafe makes sure to only work his tongue against your clit, not wanting to taste his own cum, even as he feels it falling onto his chin and sliding down his neck.
rafe eats you out through five more orgasms until you can’t kneel above him any longer, flopping to the side.
“fuck me again, please.” you beg as rafe takes the blanket at wipes away his chin and chest.
“i can’t, i’m so fucking tired.” rafe wishes he could get it up, but its late, his body is exhausted, and he can barely keep his eyes open.
“you can’t fall asleep and leave me like this!” you scream at rafe, tears falling down your cheeks.
“shh, here.” rafe reaches his hand out, sticking two fingers inside of your pussy, squelching in your wetness. he fingers you until he can’t move any longer, passing out. you continue to hump yourself on his fingers and rub your clit until the need lessens, the drugs begin to wear off, and you manage to pass out next to rafe just before sunset.
you wake up with a groan, muscles sore as you blink your eyes open, bed still covered in wetness.
“hey sis.” rafe says, sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, now dressed in his underwear.
“rafe.” you growl out. “you drugged me, you piece of shit!”
“hey, you certainly enjoyed yourself.” rafe argues back, locking his phone screen and tossing it away.
“fuck you!” you shout, launching yourself at your brother. rafe expects you to slap him, or scratch him, but not your lips as you press them against his.
“fuck me.” you ask. “i-i want to feel you when not drugged. you owe it to me. please, rafe.”
“oh baby.” rafe coos, not realizing what he just woke up inside of you. “you don’t have to beg me.”
--
“who did this to you?” your mother screams, ward looking just as concerned. “you’re still a teenager!” “i’m an adult!” you argue back.
“you’re nineteen! you still live at home, you have no job, no money! and now you’re pregnant?” 
“when i find who did this to you.” ward pipes up, an angry expression on your face, completing the rest of the sentence without even having to use words.
“just… go to your room while your stepdad and i talk. i don’t want to see your face right now.” your mother shoos you away.
any other time you would cry at her harsh words, and at disappointing your mom and step dad, but you know what is waiting for you in your room.
“they're pissed.” you pout, falling into rafes arms once your door is closed and locked behind you.
“a little bit longer, sissy. and then i’m getting us out of here. i know it sucks, but i need a couple more weeks to get the money, and then we are gone. anywhere in the world you want.” “tell me again.” you sigh, leaning your head against rafes chest, placing a hand on your stomach, your bump haven gotten to big to hide it anymore.
“just you. me. our baby. no one who knows we are step siblings. i steal the money to get us away, and then we make it legit. find jobs. get married. have more babies.”
you smile up at rafe, pressing a kiss to his neck. 
“i…” you whisper, knowing how dangerous of a time this is for you two getting caught. “i want you again.” rafe smiles. “that baby inside of you has you acting like you’re on that aphrodisiac again.”
“shut up.” you groan, rolling your eyes as you fall back into the bed, lifting your dress up to reveal you aren’t wearing any underwear. “we wouldn’t be going through this if you would have just bought me a plan b that next day like you were supposed to.”
“baby-” rafe shucks off his pants and underwear. “you spent all day riding my cock or begging for my mouth, even when the drugs wore off. i didn’t have any time!” “yeah, yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes. “just get inside of me.”
rafe smiles at you as he lines up with your entrance, sinking in with a quiet groan before leaning forward, feeling your baby bump press against his abs. “i love you, sis.”
“i love you too, brother.”
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