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readerthatreadsss · 7 months

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Worth The Wait | Steven Grant

(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.

Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.

A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!

"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−

Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.

He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.

Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.

You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.

"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"

You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.

Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.

But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.

He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.

"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.

You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.

"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.

"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.

"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.

"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"

"Yup."

Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.

You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.

"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.

You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.

When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.

He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.

"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.

"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.

Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."

Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.

"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.

"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.

"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.

Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."

You ignored his call for your attention.

"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.

"Yes I am−"

"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.

"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."

You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"

Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.

You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.

Steven's face fell. "What?"

"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."

Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.

You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.

Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.

Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.

"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.

"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.

A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.

Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.

It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.

And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;

Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.

Steven.

"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.

Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.

But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.

After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.

"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."

You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?

You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.

He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."

You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.

"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.

"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.

A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.

"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.

"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.

After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"

"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."

You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.

"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.

"Did you mean it?"

Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.

You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.

Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.

You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.

"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"

Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"

Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."

Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.

You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"

"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.

You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.

Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.

Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.

Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.

You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.

Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."

Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.

Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.

Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.

"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.

Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.

You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.

Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.

You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...

Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.

"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.

Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.

Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.

You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.

Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.

You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.

Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.

You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.

"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.

"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"

Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.

Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.

But for now, you really wanted to taste him.

Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.

"Are you sure you want to-"

"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"

Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.

"Please, please do," his response came soon after.

You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.

Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.

"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."

You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.

Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.

After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.

"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.

You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."

Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.

You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"

Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.

"What is it, Steven?"

The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."

You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.

"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.

Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."

You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.

"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.

You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.

Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."

You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.

Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.

"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.

Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.

And so, he eagerly dived into your core.

Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.

The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.

The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.

Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.

"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.

Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.

"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...

"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.

He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.

Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.

"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.

Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.

It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.

Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.

Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.

Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern

You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."

Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.

But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."

Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."

"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."

Steven couldn't even formulate a response.

"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.

Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.

"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.

He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."

You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.

Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.

You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.

"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.

He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.

Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.

You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."

Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.

You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.

"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.

"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.

Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.

"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.

Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.

His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."

"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.

"What?"

"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.

Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.

"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.

Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.

"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.

Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.

You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.

Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.

Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.

"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.

You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.

You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."

He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.

But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.

You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.

His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.

"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.

"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.

"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.

You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."

"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.

"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.

Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.

You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"

"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.

So I really do hope you enjoyed it.

(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)

#steven grant smut #moon knight smut #smut #fluff #marvel #imagine #oneshot #steven grant #moon boys #moon knight x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #moon knight fic #moon knight #oscar issac smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction

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janeyseymour · 12 days

Text

Bare-knuckle Fist Fight

Summary: you run into Melissa's ex. All hell breaks loose.

WC: ~2.5k

“Babe, please,” Melissa is pleading with you. Her and her friend Barbara were going out to dinner tonight, and your girlfriend so desperately wants you to tag along. “Barb wants to see you too.”

“She saw me today at school,” you retort.

Melissa frowns. “But outside of school,” she argues.

“Honey, I’m exhausted,” you sigh from your place on the couch. “The kids today were a mess, I was a mess, my head is pounding because I dropped my coffee during the first hour of the day so I didn’t have nearly enough caffeine, and I just want to relax and do a whole lot of nothing.”

The redhead sighs heavily at the list of reasons why you don’t want to go anywhere tonight, and she relents. If her day had gone that way, she would be the same way, if not worse. She crosses her way into the kitchen, grabs a few Advil and a bottle of water for you, pulls the blanket down from where it’s hanging over the back of the couch, and gives it all to you. She presses a soft kiss to your forehead before she heads back into her bedroom to freshen up her makeup and change out of her long sleeved pink shirt into a short sleeved one instead.

You feel bad, you really do. You love going out with the two of them- it’s always been a great time. But you weren’t lying when you said that your head hurt and your body was exhausted from the millions of decisions you had to make today in terms of your students. Between the thousands of questions you answered and the various meetings that you had throughout the day, your brain is exhausted, and you don’t want to have to think again for the rest of the night.

When she comes back into the living room and grabs her bag to start making her way out, you sigh dramatically.

“What, hun?” Green eyes meet your own as she shrugs her leather jacket back on. By the time she’s finished adjusting the cuffs on her sleeves, you’re standing next to her and slipping your shoes back onto your feet. When you stand up straight, she looks mildly concerned.

“I’m coming,” you tell her as you too grab your jacket.

Your girlfriend squeezes your hand softly. “Amore, you don’t have to.”

“I’ll just get a coffee during dinner, and I’ll be okay,” you promise her. “C’mon, we better get going if we’re going to be on time.”

The three of you have a lovely dinner, and you’re feeling much better by the end of it. When the kindergarten teacher suggests going somewhere else for another drink, Melissa stops her.

“I gotta get Y/N home,” she says softly as she looks to you with warm eyes. “Today took a lot out of her.”

You shake your head almost immediately, and you regret it. Your head might be feeling better, but at the sudden and frantic movement, you can feel the tension behind your temple. Still, you tell her, “No, no. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Are you sure?” both women look to you. “It’s okay if you’re not feeling up to it. We can always go somewhere else another day.”

You wave a hand. “It’s Friday, I feel a lot better than I did; Let’s go somewhere else. Where were you thinking?”

“Where do you want to go?” your girlfriend asks you with a squeeze of the hand.

The three of you end up at a bar that you have no business being in- and it’s quite funny to watch the usually so buttoned up Barbara Howard get down on the dance floor with your girlfriend. While you and Melissa are usually the ones to be dancing together, you take a step back and settle on the barstool that you’re sitting on. It’s nice to watch the two of them let their hair down and relax for once, not a care in the world as they sip on their margaritas and dance the night away.

All is well until you see two women make their way up to your girlfriend and the smile that was on her face immediately drops.

You can’t quite make out what the one woman is saying to Melissa and Barbara, but their faces tell you that they aren’t all too pleased with whatever is coming out of her mouth. You groan as you stand and make your way over to them. Your arms slink around Melissa’s waist, and you kiss her neck to show this woman that your girl was entirely off the market.

“Hey, baby,” you whisper into her ear. You can practically feel her shiver as you press yourself impossibly closer to your smoke show of a girlfriend. Your face flushes when she all but grinds into you subtly.

“Who the fuck is this?” the blonde woman asks.

“Eva, this is Y/N. Y/N, meet the blonde devil,” Melissa huffs. “My ex-girlfriend.”

Eva looks you up and down with a look of disgust. “Damn, Mel. You really downgraded. You went from me to… that.” She gestures at you vaguely. “Well, this is my girlfriend, Caroline.”

“Wow, babe,” Caroline looks at you and Melissa together. “You weren’t kidding when you said that your ex-girlfriend was a cradle robber. I mean, she gotta be- what? Eighty-five?”

Your eyebrows lift, as do Barbara’s- you both know that the concept of getting older and dating younger is not one that Melissa is particularly fond of talking about. It’s honestly often one of the things that the two of you speak of when she’s having doubts and fears about the path her life took as opposed to the one that she had planned when she was a little girl. To Melissa’s credit, the green eyes that usually sparkle only turn dull- there is no yelling or cursing like you and her work wife had expected. But you? You’re not about to let this woman talk shit on your girlfriend and not defend her.

“Excuse you?” You release your girlfriend and puff out your chest just slightly.

“I said she’s a hag!” Your ex-girlfriend’s new girlfriend takes it to an all new low. “And you’re nothin’ but a dumb slut!”

Melissa gets scarily close to Caroline and hisses, “What did you say about my girlfriend? Say it again- I dare ya.”

Barbara is standing there, looking as though she wants to intervene. “Girls,” she tries to shout over the music. Her quiet pleas though go unheard.

“I said she’s a dumb slut!” the woman states again, getting nose to nose with your girlfriend.

Melissa winds up her fist, but you stop her just in the knick of time.

“Oh, I see we’ve really gotten a hold of our temper,” Eva laughs loudly, obnoxiously. She looks to you. “Good luck getting this one to calm the hell down… like a bat outta hell, I swear.”

“Actually,” you chuckle deviously. “I haven’t had any issues with her temper. Maybe all she needed was a loving girlfriend instead of a stuck up bitch.”

“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing,” Eva squares up with you, taking out her earrings. You follow suit and take out your earrings and hand them to the kindergarten teacher.

“Girls,” Barbara tries to cut in again as she takes your jewelry in her hands, but it doesn’t matter because there’s a drink thrown on you before she can continue, and all hell breaks loose.

Although you don’t have quite the temper your girlfriend does, you see absolute red once you can see again, vodka dripping down your face. You throw the rest of your drink on the woman before her fist collides with your cheek.

You stumbles backwards before regaining your balance, and you go at her with full force. Melissa and Caroline start to get involved, trying to pry you off of each other but it only makes it worse.

Barbara takes a few steps back. She cannot get involved in this- not if someone is going to bail the two of you out of jail tonight.

Before you know it, four security guards are prying you all off of each other, you’re covered in the blood that is cascading from your nose, Melissa is clutching at her eye that’s bound to be bruised over and swollen shut tomorrow if it’s color right now is anything to go by, and Eva and Caroline are both cradling their cheeks from the punches that you and your girlfriend were able to get in.

All four of you are put in handcuffs and hauled out of the bar. You and your girlfriend are put into one squad car while the other couple is stuffed into another.

“Can I at least have a tissue for my nose?” you ask as you spit the blood that’s dripping into your mouth onto the floor. God, you hate the taste of blood. “And for Christ’s sake, you should be taking my girlfriend to the hospital with that eye of hers.”

“Y/N, I am fine,” Melissa grumbles, and she goes to roll her eyes but she has to stop herself because the right one throbs erratically.

While your asses are being dragged down to the local police station, Barbara sits outside of the bar on a bench dreading the phone call she knows she has to make. She does not have enough cash on her right now to bail the two of you out, nor is she sober enough to drive to the ATM and then down to the local precinct. With a sigh, she dials the number.

“Barb, honey, you ready for me to come pick the three of you up?” Gerald answers from his place on the couch. He’s getting rather tired, but he knows that when the three of you go out, particularly after a day like you all had, it can tend to get a bit wild.

“I’m ready for you to come pick me up,” she states.

“The girls aren’t with you?”

“I’m afraid that… we may have to go bail them out of jail,” the teacher says into her phone quietly.

“Jail?” Gerald asks incredulously. Barbara can practically see her husband’s eyes bulging out of his head.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Jail. There was… a situation. I’ll explain when you come pick me up.”

“Okay,” the man sighs out as he stands from his recliner. He slips his shoes on. “Are you at your usual bar?”

“No,” the kindergarten teacher says. “We were at… Woodys, of all places.”

“Good lord, Barb,” Gerald chuckles at that revelation. “I didn’t think you had it in you to go there.”

“Y/N wanted to go, and you know how Melissa is for that girl, and I was not about to be the- you know what? Just come get me.”

Gerald pulls up to the bar where his wife is sitting outside on the curb, looking around constantly and being entirely aware of her surroundings.

“Oi, woman,” the man gets his wife’s attention. “Get in the car so we can go pick up your clowns.”

“Not my circus, not my monkeys,” Barbara huffs as she buckles her seatbelt.

Gerald looks to his wife with a smirk. “Except they are your circus.”

“Don’t remind me.”

You and your girlfriend are sitting in a holding cell together while Eva and Caroline are in the one next to you, and they’re all but spitting insults at the two of you. They’re claiming that they’re going to file to sue.

“Oh, drink piss, Eva,” your girlfriend shouts. “You were the one who threw the first punch! If anything, you’re ass is getting sued, and you know I know a guy who can make sure we win!”

“Mel,” you sigh as you continue to hold up a tissue to your somehow still bleeding nose- you know that whenever you get out of here, you’re surely going to end up at the hospital.

“I’m just statin’ the truth, Y/N!” the redhead exclaims.

“We know exactly who threw the first punch thanks to security cameras, and we will be holding her accountable,” one of the officers says as comes in with a roll of his eyes. “For now…” he unlocks your holding cell.

You look up, as does Melissa.

“We haven’t even made a call,” you look to the man in blue curiously.

“Didn’t have to,” Barbara comes up from behind him. Gerald is there too.

You immediately launch yourself at Barbara, thanking her repeatedly for getting you out of here.

“You didn’t have to spring us out,” Melissa sighs. “I woulda called Dommy to come get us out.”

Gerald just chuckles as his wife says softly, “My circus, my monkeys,” as she holds onto you. When she pulls back, her eyes widen just slightly. Your nose is a deep shade of purple, as is your girlfriend’s eye.

“Let’s get going now,” Barbara sighs. “We have to get the two of you to the hospital.”

By some grace of God, the emergency room at Jefferson isn’t swimming in drunk people yet, and you and Melissa are put into a room rather quickly. They check the two of you out- explaining that neither of you have concussions, which is miraculous considering the amount of blows the two of you took.

The doctors on call tell Melissa that her eye should heal up just fine with hot compresses and ice. You, on the other hand, are a different story. Once they clean up the blood that has dried, it becomes clear that you were not only bleeding from the inside of your nose, but also the outside. One of the other woman’s rings must’ve gotten caught on your nose and scratched it from the bridge all the way down. As they pour antiseptic cleaner on it and clean you up, you have to hiss in pain. It stings, and they’re prodding on the area where you already know your nose is broken. The doctor confirms that a few minutes later.

You leave the hospital with your girlfriend and the Howards a bit later, a nose guard taped to your face.

You grumble the entire ride home about how not only are kids going to be asking a million questions when you go into school on Monday with a black and blue cheek and a broken nose, but so is the staff. Melissa just runs her arms up and down your own, trying to ease your mind by telling you that she is also going to have to answer to a billion questions too.

Gerald pulls up to the townhouse that you and your girlfriend share, and as you get out of the car, Barbara Howard grabs your arms gently.

“What?” you ask.

“We are never going to Woodys again.”

“Understood, and agreed,” you sigh as you hold your hand out to help the redhead out of the car.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

Text

the touch of a hand lit the fuse

So, turns out y'all lapped up my dbf!Joel and now I'm kinda speechless? Like, tysm for loving this enough to like semi-blow it up. But never fear, our favourite neighbourhood DILF is back and filthier than ever today. I wrote this under the influence of a rather strong margarita, so forgive any mistake and the uninhibited filth you're about to consume. Enjoy.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Four days on from being spread on Joel's lap, he's back to fix up your attic when you're home alone.

Word Count | 3.6k

Warnings | I mean, blanket warning for dbf!Joel because he's always a menace. Alcohol consumption, NO USE OF Y/N, masterbating (F), unprotected PiV sex (Don't be dumb, wrap it up), age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), size kink, some dirty talk and that's it.

Part 1 | Main Masterlist

It was Wednesday and you were still reeling from what had happened at the party on Saturday. Whenever you led in bed there was the feeling of Joel’s fingers ghosting over you. You were ashamed of the number of times you’d touched yourself, trying to emulate how Joel’s fingers had felt inside of you, failing miserably, but still getting yourself off with tight circles on your clit, moaning his name into your pillow as you made yourself come. It was a dreadful substitute, but you didn’t have much choice – Joel had been MIA since he'd left on Saturday night.

You were sat at the table in the kitchen with your parents, sipping on orange juice and pushing eggs around your plate before they both went to work, “Oh, I forgot to mention, Joel’s coming over this morning to take a look at starting that work in the attic, you’ll be around to let him in, won’t you?”

You tried to keep as nonchalant as possible at your dad’s voice, “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

A house to yourself with Joel Miller, of course you’d be here, there was no-where else you’d rather be. Once your parents had eaten and stacked their dishes for you to wash up in your free time later, you raced upstairs to your room, dragging out the tightest pair of shorts you owned and a low-cut tank top. You’d never been the type to play into this sort of thing – if someone wanted you, then they could want you in your baggy jeans and jumpers, but Joel was different, and you knew it. You’d seen it the last time, how he fought to the last second not to give into you and his desires, you didn’t want to give him a reason to do it again.

You made quick work of hopping in the shower before pulling your clothes on, choosing a coloured bra to sit under your white tank top, but deciding against underwear beneath your shorts. Then you sat on couch and waited, anticipation rising with every minute there wasn’t a knock on the door. It took him another hour to arrive – the knock at the door dragging a gasp of surprise from your lips.

You practically ran to the front door, stopping only to run a hand through your hair and take a deep breath before you opened it. It never mattered where or when you saw him, he was always fucking gorgeous. Like now, stood in front of you, toolbox in hand, dark t-shirt and jeans clinging to him, hair mused and a smirk on his lips.

“Sorry I’m late sugar,” He breathes, “Had to cover a job first thing for Tommy.”

“That’s alright,” You smile, leaning against the door so he can walk past, “You want a drink of anything?”

You were slightly put out that he hadn’t immediately bent his head and planted a kiss to your lips, but you weren’t going to be a brat about it. At least not yet.

“Water’ll be just fine thanks,” He says over his shoulder as he’s moving towards the stairs, “I’m just gonna get started, don’t let me interrupt you.”

You’re not interrupting anything is what you want to say, but he’s already taking the stairs two at a time, as if he’s in a rush to get away from you. It hurts, but you try and swallow your pride for now. He wasn’t going to get away with it that easily.

You fill up a glass of water from the fridge with some ice, it’s hot after all, before you head upstairs. He’s already got the ladder from the attic down and is searching through his toolbox for what he needs, setting each different tool on his utility belt when he finds it.

“You want me to pass this up to you once you’ve tackled the ladder, Miller?” You ask.

He turns to you with his hand on one of the ladder rungs, “I’d be much obliged, sweetheart.”

You swear that he takes each step of the ladder excruciatingly slow just for your benefit, but you aren’t going to complain – it affords you a glorious view of his ass, fitting tightly into his jeans – had he done that to you on purpose, just like you did for him? You watch intently as he turns and kneels and sticks his hand down for the glass of water. You pass it to him, and he does exactly what he did with his bottle of beer on the weekend, grabs it exactly where your hand is so his fingers brush against yours. Lighting a fuse right through your body. If you could spontaneously catch fire you think this would have done it.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me, just shout.”

You flop yourself down on the couch, huffing out an annoyed breath as you reach for the magazine you’d been trying to read before he arrived. Thinking it would be easier to concentrate on now Joel was working away upstairs, you’re sorely mistaken. Your eyes glaze over the same two sentences – it’s an advice column, some housewife wanting to know how she could make her husband want her again after months of living in a dead bedroom. You don’t pretend to care, you look down to the bottom of the column – Andrea, 48. What you really want the editor to say in response is that Andrea should cut her losses, find someone younger, fitter and more handsome and sack off her obviously boring husband. What they really say is that she can spice things up by wearing sexy lingerie and being spontaneous, maybe you can try taking sex out of the bedroom for things to feel newer and more exciting.

They’d got that much right. Your brain is drifting back to Saturday night, sat on Joel’s lap with his thick fingers moving in and out of your pussy. That had been new and exciting. Maybe Andrea should try that with her own husband.

You sigh and throw the magazine to the ground – nothing is going to stop the bubbling lust and frustration in your stomach. Nothing except for what you really want, and that Joel, peeling your clothes off and seating himself so deep inside you that you can’t think properly. You can hear him banging around in the attic, unsure of what he’s actually doing.

Before you know what you’re doing, one of your hands is making quick work of undoing the button on your shorts, moving them just enough so you can slip your hand below the material. Your ears focus on sound of Joel’s footsteps in the distance. You bet there’s a thin film of sweat on his skin up there, you think as your fingers dip to the entrance of your pussy, finding yourself just as wet as you were on the weekend. Maybe he’s taken his shirt off, you think as the slick you’d gathered on your fingers make sliding them over your clit easier. The mental vision of the muscles in his back rippling as he bends to work and the way his arms would tense make bringing yourself to the edge of oblivion a piece of cake, but it’s the final vision you have of him pushing you against the dank attic wall and pounding into you that has you coming. You bite down on your hand to stop yourself from making noise, convulsing on the couch with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

There was a slight feeling of embarrassment that sat through your stomach for a moment when you’d realized you’d gotten yourself whilst Joel was unaware upstairs. You quickly buttoned up your shorts and placed an arm over your eyes whilst you tried to catch your breath and before you could stop yourself you were drifting off to sleep.

You woke with a start God knows how long later, the sound of something hitting the ground drawing you from your dreamless nap. You sat up and rubbed at your eyes and saw Joel setting his toolbox by the front door.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You mumble, pushing yourself off the couch.

“S’alright,” He smiles at you, “S’your house.”

“You get everything done?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “Gonna be a big job up there, don’t have the stuff to finish it all today.”

You nod like you understand, “Anything else on today?”

He smirks at you like he knows what you’re thinking, “Nope,” is all he says, “You?”

You match his smirk, “Nope, convenient huh?” He nods, “You want a drink?”

You look at the clock on the wall, it’s nearing 2pm, “Beer?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You try and push down the arousal that pooled in your stomach at that. It hadn’t been two hours since you’d gotten yourself off but God there was just something about this man that made your blood run hot and turned you into something akin to a dog in heat. He follows behind you as you go to the kitchen, gratefully accepting the ice-cold beer that you’d popped the cap off.

You stand at opposite sides of the kitchen – Joel leant up against the counter near the sink, you doing similar against the breakfast island. It’s silent as you both eye one another up, taking languid sips of beer as you do so. You could cut the tension in here with a fucking knife. You made the first move last time, it’s his turn to do it.

“Y’know you don’t have to wear that kinda stuff for me, don’t ya?” His eyebrow is cocked, and you know he’s talking about the shorts that barely cover your ass and the blue bra he can clearly see through your top.

“Shall I take them off then?”

He’s leant against the kitchen counter, looking as casual as can be, but you don’t miss the way his eyes darken, glazed with lust. He takes another drink of his beer before setting the bottle down, crossing his arms over his chest, eyebrow raised.

“You wanna see me naked, Joel Miller?”

“You want me to see you naked?” He counters.

“You’re in charge baby, you need to tell me what you want.” You dare.

He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he’s thinking before he’s unraveling his arms from his chest, “Well, in that case, come over here and kiss me.”

Your feet are moving before he’s even finished speaking, closing the gap between you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing yourself up on your tiptoes as his own arms wrap around your waist as his dips his head and wastes no time connecting your lips together. As soon as they do you can feel the tension dripping from your body, pooling on the floor as if it never existed.

Joel’s got you pulled flush to his body, warmth radiating through the material covering your bodies as his mouth opens and he’s swiping his tongue across your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth and bites down slightly. He slips his tongue into your mouth when you gasp at the slight bite of pain from his teeth, which is quickly forgotten when you can taste him on your mouth. The slight yeast from the beer, something minty, suggesting he’d been chewing gum whilst working and the inevitable flavour that’s just pure Joel that you cannot place.

His hands are slipping down from your waist to cup your ass – hands on bare skin where the globes of your ass meet the back on your thighs, dragging you further into him. You can feel his own arousal prodding between you which has a moan tumbling from your lips, swallowed by Joel’s own mouth as he continues to lick into your mouth.

His hands are sliding around to the front of your shorts, deftly undoing the button, not unlike how you’d done it just a few hours before. His hand is snaking down into the material and then he’s pulling away from your lips, a groan of frustration leaving your mouth as he does so.

“What’s this?” He asks, brushing his fingers along the seam of your pussy, “Didn’t wanna bother with lace today?”

“Saving time.” You mumble, a sigh leaving your lips as his fingers move lower.

“Fuckin’ hell sweetheart, are you always this wet?” He groans when one of his finger’s dips slightly between your folds.

“Only for you,” Another sigh, “I… fuck, Joel…” You’re trying to get your words out but the way he’s brushing your slick up the seam of your pussy but neglecting your clit means it’s hard to concentrate, “I touched myself, thinking of you.”

He stops dead in his tracks, pulling his face away from you, “When?” He demands.

You turn your head to look at the clock behind you, “Probably two hours ago now.”

He growls, gripping you tightly to his body, “You filthy girl,” You can do nothing but grin, “You touched your pussy whilst I was upstairs?”

You nod, moving so you can press a kiss to his neck, “Show me.” He asks.

There’s confusion on your face when you pull back, “You don’t need me, obviously, so show me how you touched yourself whilst I was slaving away upstairs.”

He pushes you away from his body gently, and you’re going to turn around to walk somewhere to lie down and give him a show, but he’s stopping you, “Do it here,” He’s motioning his hand for you to stay in the kitchen, “Come on sweetheart, don’t keep me waitin’.”

You take your place leant back against the kitchen counter, running your hand down your body before it dips into your shorts. Joel’s eyes are staring holes into your skin as your fingers dip to your seeping hole, you let your eyes flutter closed as you gather your slick on your fingers, bringing it up to circle your clit. This time when you want to moan, you don’t bite down on anything, moaning Joel’s name as loud as you please.

When you open your eyes, fingers not letting up on pleasuring yourself, you can see him in a similar position to yours, palming himself through his jeans at the show you’re putting on, “Does it feel good, sweetheart?” He coos from across the kitchen, “Bet I’d make you feel even better, right?”

“Oh god, Joel, please-” You gasp as you speed up the circles on your clit, “I want you to touch me.”

He chuckles as he steps forward to meet you, trapping you against the kitchen island with an arm on either side of you. He’s pressing kisses behind your ear but is making no attempt to touch you past that. Fingers still firmly pressing against your clit, you grind your hips forward into his own, “Oh baby,” He whispers, “D’ya need some help?” You nod, “What d’ya want from me?”

“Fingers-” You gasp out, “Put your fingers inside me.”

He kisses your neck, using his hands to push your shorts from your legs, letting them drop to the floor, before he’s kicking at one of your ankles to push your legs further apart. Then, he’s sinking one of his deliciously thick fingers right into your seeping cunt, causing you to cry out.

“It’s alright babygirl,” He chuckles against your skin, “Makin’ you feel good, right?”

He’s pulling his finger back out of your pussy before adding another one when he pushes them back in, “Can feel how tight you are, already, you gonna come for me?”

“Fuck-” You exclaim when he’s curling his fingers up inside you whilst his mouth drags hot trails across your collarbone, “Don’t stop, please-” You beg, “So fucking close Joel.”

“Good girl, show me how good I make you feel.”

With the incessant rubbing you’re doing over your clit and the curve of Joel’s fingers inside you, you come undone. His name is almost shouted from your lips and you can feel his free hand on your waist, keeping you upright. On Saturday he’d worked you through the aftershocks, but not today, he’s pulling his fingers from your pussy, shoving them into your mouth and watching as you lick yourself off him. Then his tongue is back in your mouth and he's grinding his bulge against you whilst he laps up the taste of you on your mouth.

“Fuck, you taste so good babygirl,” He’s whispering once he’s pulled away, “One day I’m gonna spread you out and spend hours with my head between your thighs.”

Heat flushes through your body – you want to respond but you don’t have time. He’s turning you around and with a hand placed gently on the nape of your neck, he’s pushing you forward so your body is spread over the kitchen island. You can hear him unbuckling his belt behind you and you can’t quite believe this is about to happen.

When you hear the material of his jeans hit the floor you swear you can feel yourself drip down the inside of your thigh, you’re that turned on.

“I’m gonna fuck you sweetheart,” His body is towering behind yours as his hands take your hips and pull you back, “That okay?”

You nod and moan out a ‘yes please’ as he’s lining himself up behind you. You can feel the head of his cock sliding between your folds before Joel is sinking into you from behind. He’s slow because he knows it’s a tight fit, despite all your preparation the feeling of him stretching you is bordering on uncomfortable, but you just can’t get enough. He stills himself when he’s buried inside you to the hilt. You can hear his gasps and his heavy breathing behind you as he tries to calm himself down.

“Fuckin’ Christ baby, you’re fuckin’ tight around my cock.”

“Feel so full Joel,” You moan back at him, hands gripping at the kitchen island as he pulls back and thrusts himself back into you, “You’re so fucking big.”

You can hear him chuckle as his hands grip tighter at your hips, you’re convinced you’re going to have finger shaped bruises there, “That’s right babygirl,” He pulls out once more and thrusts back into your tight heat with more force than before that has you crying out, “Look at you,” He praises, “All spread out in your daddy’s kitchen gettin’ fucked by his best friend.”

It's filth but by God it’s doing the job, the way his voice is deeper, and his words are peppered with groans and gasps as he starts fucking you in earnest. You can feel your pussy clenching around him with each thrust, any feeling of discomfort long gone, replaced just with an intense feeling of fullness peppered with ecstasy.

You feel a hand come back to the nape of your neck, travelling higher until it’s tangled in your hair, yanking you backwards so your back is arched. You can feel Joel’s hips snapping into your ass, the new arch of your back has his cock hitting a spot inside you that has spots blurring your vision.

All you can do is chant his name and let moans drop from your lips as his pace picks up again. He’s turned your brain to mush, not that you’re complaining. If you could keep the both of you here forever, locked in this state of secret pleasure then you would.

“Sweetheart,” He chokes out behind you, hand still wrapped in your hair, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes Joel, please-” You cry out, “Please give it to me.”

“So fuckin’ pretty sweetheart,” He groans behind you, “Beggin’ me for my cum like a good girl.”

When he pulls himself fully from your pussy you almost cry in frustration until you feel the warmth of his cum spreading over the cheeks of your ass. You can hear him moaning your name, one hand still firmly gripping your hip, the other, you assume, fisting his cock. When you’re sure he’s finished you let your forehead drop to the cool countertop whilst you catch your breath.

You’re vaguely aware of Joel pulling his jeans back on and the sound of the tap running behind you. The feeling of a warm cloth spreading across your ass as he cleans his spend off you. It’s almost robotic as he gathers you and turns you round, bending down to shimmy your shorts back up and over your hips. He even does the button up for you.

“You okay?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You smile, exhaustion settling into your bones as he holds you, “Never better.”

“Hope I wasn’t too rough sweetheart.”

“I don’t mind,” You smirk, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips, “Want you to make me sore so whenever I move I remember this.”

“You can’t be real babygirl,” He’s chuckling, “You keep sayin’ things like that and I’ll never leave.”

You’re pulled from your post-coital bliss by the sound of a car door slamming out front. Your eyes widen and so do Joel’s. You quickly glance at the clock and realise he’s had you bent over the kitchen counter for far longer than you’d anticipated.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He’s mumbling, making sure he kisses your lips firmly, “I gotta get outta here, but I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod with a smile, you fucking hope so.

He leaves with a squeeze of your hand, jogging to the door to grab his toolbox. You hear the door open and then he’s greeting your mother with a ‘Hello ma’am, good day?’ – you can just about hear your mother recounting her day to him and then asking him how the work in the attic went.

“Went fine, still a fair bit to do so just let me know when y’all are going to be out again in the week and I’ll come back to finish up.”

“Well, you know we work all week and I’m sure that one in there won’t mind a little banging about from you.”

Oh if only you knew mom, if only you knew.

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meowmeowriley · 3 months

Text

@forestshadow-wolf @myriadblvck Thanks for letting be borrow your thoughts. Have this!

The boys are back in Las Almas to celebrate taking down Hassan. Soap can't help but compare drunk Ghost to a dog.

Alejandro ordered everyone their third margarita of the night. Gaz and Price groaned, Soap laughed. Several Vaqueros filtered away from the booth they were in, as Rudy threw his hands up. "Lightweights!" He called out to his men.

Ghost was in the middle of the booth, he'd wanted a view of the rest of the room, paranoid about what may be lurking, about who could sneak up on them. Soap had watched his paranoia ebb as the tequila sank in. He had his arms crossed, practically laying on the table with his head chin resting on them. His eyes were closed but Soap could see him smile whenever someone, usually soap himself, made a shitty joke. He'd not rolled his mask back down and Soap was not about to be the one to remind him.

Soap was sat on the edge, thankfully. If he was to drink another enormous margarita, he needed to empty his bladder. He got up, excusing himself to the loo quietly, and had taken two steps when he heard glasses clatter and the table screech across the floor.

He whipped around to see Ghost, on his feet, hands braced on the table that was now a solid half a meter from where it had been, and breathing heavily. His wide eyes darted around the room, then up and down John.

The others at the table were trying to calm him. "Easy, hermano." "Ghost? Breathe mate." "Phantasma..." "woah, Simon? You good son?" Ghost didn't even spare the other men a glance.

"Sorry Ghostie, didnae mean to spook ya." Soap tried to placate the man as well. A joke oughtta do the trick. "Just gotta take a leak. I'll be right back.

He expected things to go one of a couple different ways. Ghost could sit back down, be bashful after his outburst. He could pull the table back, make a joke. He could flip Soap the bird and harass him for ruining his nap.

What he did not expect was for Ghost to tilt his head like a confused mutt, and then plant his boot on the table to climb over.

"Mierda!" "Shit!" "Fucken hell!" "Ghost!" The men still at the table scrambled to steady the table, to keep it from flipping as the enormous man clambered up, over, and then back off the table. He came to a stop directly next to Soap, eyes hazy and drooping from the drink, looking for all the world like a puppy that was being left behind.

"Okay." Soap ran a hand down his own face. The bartender was surely not going to be happy about the abuse his table had just taken. "Ye need to pee too then. Coming?" Poor guy was still breathing heavily. Soap watched him clench his jaw tightly, his Adam's apple bounced as he swallowed. He nodded, just once. "Right." Soap turned, and could feel the oppressive shadow looming over him as they made their way to the bathroom at the back of the bar.

He wasn't exactly in the mood for a quick fuck, but he wouldn't say no to Ghost. A small part of him had wished their first little tryst would be something more intimate though, than a hasty nut in a dingy bathroom stall. But that's what he got for falling for the Ghost, he supposed. A cold, rough, efficient man. He'd take what he could get.

Soap walked up to the urinal, Ghost practically blanketing him, and had to push the other man back with a hand on his chest. "Ah really need to pee first, Ghost."

"First?" Ghost blinked down at him, head tilted to the side again. Of course the first thing he'd said in an hour was a confusing single word question.

"Why're ye here Ghost? D'ya need to go?" Maybe the man was too drunk. Couldn't even remember why he'd gotten up.

"Didn't wanna lose sight of ya." Ghost mumbled. He sounded dejected.

"Don't trust me not to piss on the floors, aye Ghost?" Soap ribbed, hoping to wipe the frown off the other man's face.

"Trust you." Ghost closed his eyes and leaned back on the wall behind himself. "Shouldn't, but..." he was quiet, clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times. His fists too. Finally he looked down at John, eyes far away, yet lazer focused. "They called me his dog. 'Shepherd's attack dog', I heard it... from everyone..." the low yellow lighting of the tiny light in the middle of the bathroom caught on the wetness of Ghost's eyes. "M'not a dog..." he whispered.

Coulda fooled Soap, puppy eyes turned up to eleven as they were. A hound left chained out in the rain. "Ghost-"

"Couldn't trust Shepherd. Not after... not after him..."

Soap had known Ghost for a long time. Several years now. Had worked with him a few times, always under the command of the General. Crass, no bullshit Ghost. Got the job done. Something changed in Las Almas.

"Wasn't loyal to Shepherd. Not his dog."

"No. You're more than that, Simon." Soap found himself reaching out. He held his hand near the other man's cheek.

Ghost took the offered hand with his own, nuzzling into it, closing his eyes once more. "Why're you different?" He asked. Soap wasn't sure what he meant. "Ghost... Ghost doesn't trust anyone. Isn't loyal. To anyone. But Simon... Simon wants to keep you safe. Make you happy." His voice cracked a bit on the last words as his whispers fell from his lips.

Talking about himself in the third person, as if he were two separate beings was maybe a red flag. But Soap's favorite color was red. And life was too short to ignore how the man was currently gently rubbing Soaps hand on his own jaw, stubble catching on every crease and divot.

"We could make each other happy." He whispered up to the other man. A promise hidden in his words. A question too.

He watched as Simon's face lit up. He smiled crookedly, missing lateral incisor and snaggled canine endearingly on display. If he'd had a tail, it would be slamming against the wall, if the radiance of his smile were any indicator. "I'll be good for you." Simon whispered into John's hand, before kissing it.

John held back the 'good dog' that threatened to escape him. No need to tease the drunk. He wasn't sure yet how he'd take it.

"I still need ta pee, Simon." He ignored the way Simon whined as he took his hand back, how close they were as John finally freed himself from his trousers. Pointedly kept his mind blank while his hands were on himself and Simon's arms found their way around his middle. How he burrowed his nose into John's hair with a contented sigh.

They made their way back to the table, Simon holding the hem of the back of John's shirt. It reminded him of his sisters golden retreaver, he'd seen it holding it's own leash during walks.

Gaz quirked an eyebrow. "That was, quick?"

"We didnae fuck, if that's what yer thinkin'." John rolled his eyes as he slid back into the booth. He expected everyone to shift over and allow Ghost back to the table, this time on the end so he wouldn't desecrate the table with his boots again, when he saw Price put his head in his hands and mumble something to the effect of 'Goddammit Ghost'.

The man in question was now climbing up the back of the booth that Soap was sat in, slotting himself behind him. Okay then. If Soap were honest, it was kinda nice. Ghost was very clearly marking his territory, as he once again wound his arms around John's middle. He placed his forehead against the back of Soaps, and let out a happy little hum.

"We just talked. An important little chat. That's all." He assured the group. No one dared address the man currently caressing Soaps bicep gently.

Soap couldn't help but think that 'MacTavish's Attack Dog' had a pretty nice ring to it.

#i fucking love a dog analogy #ghostsoap #soapghost #cod mw2 #ghoap #fanfic #text post #call of duty

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reveuse-de-minuit-writer · 6 months

Text

Knockout (Toji x Sukuna x AFAB Reader)

Summary:

Reader is invited to an underground fighting ring and manages to catch the attention of the two most dangerous men there. Theirs is a world of brutality and carnage, and all the reader wants is to explore how deep the darkness goes.

CW: 18+, Violence, blood and gore, explicit rough sex, m/m/f, breath play, overstimulation, BDSM elements, edging, face-fucking, double penetration, squirting, alcohol, weed.

Full tags and complete work on AO3 here: x

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

CH. 1

Two fighters dance in the makeshift ring. The big one, a veritable mountain of a man with a curling top-knot and vicious scar slashing through his left eye, is the first to break their stalemate.

Instead of rushing his opponent, or doing literally anything that would have made sense in an underground fighting ring, the mountain man begins dancing to the music. His opponent hesitates as they watch him in confusion, before narrowing his eyes in contempt. It’s clear the smaller fighter takes his opponent's interpretive dancing as an insult to his capabilities.

The smaller fighter charges forward, rushing in close to cut off the mountain man’s odd thrusting and grinding as he dances to a beat in his head. As the smaller fighter raises his fist to swing, the mountainous fighter twirls into a powerful roundhouse kick that sends the other man flying across the ring.

The collision is impactful enough that it leaves a crater in the cement where the smaller fighter's body makes contact. He flops against the cement, and his head bounces with a splattering thud.

His body goes still.

The countdown to ten begins, but the only thing that moves is the pool of blood as it grows around the impact zone from the fighter’s head.

Before the countdown even hits zero, the mountainous fighter is doing a victory dance. He wildly thrusts his hips and twirls around with a genuinely surprising grace given his sheer size. The announcer interrupts the fighter’s dance by grabbing around his thick wrist, and hoists his hand high in the air.

“And the winner is AOIII TODOOO!” The announcer declares into the microphone.

The roar of the crowd is deafening in my ears as they cheer at the mountain-man’s victory.

“Well that was quite the spectacle,” I say to my friend Shogo to my right.

He snickers, “Well I can’t say I wasn’t entertained. Twinkle-toes certainly knows how to put on a show.”

“Is he dead?” I ask with a grimace.

Shogo polishes off the last of his drink before exhaling obnoxiously, “Nah, he’s just out cold. Todo doesn’t fight like that. Dude’s a monster, but he’s too soft to straight up fight someone to the death.”

“Ah, that's good then.”

I take a sip of my cold margarita, and it’s the cooling balm I need against the heat of the arena. The space is small but densely packed, and I can feel the humidity clinging atop my body like a second skin.

The music that plays is the winner’s choice, and I can’t stop myself from smirking as idol music pours from the speakers into the underground arena.

To call the space an arena at all is generous. It’s really just a basement warehouse, but it serves its purpose well enough. The seats are a mix of metal folding chairs and benches stolen from abandoned stadiums that somehow managed to avoid demolition. There are shipping containers surrounding the walls which people use to sit and watch the fight. Shogo and I have done the same, sprawling out on top of a picnic blanket to cushion us from the cold, corrugated metal. The ring itself is just an empty expanse of concrete indicated only by the ropes outlining its circumference.

Despite how ramshackle everything looks, two projectors display a live feed of the ring on the wall. They function like the screens in a legitimate arena, and I’ve found myself grateful for them many times already, since the tighter grapples and quick jabs can sometimes be hard to see. The instant replays and fight tracking from the dedicated staff are genuinely very well done for what they have to work with.

Overall, the arena is not much, but it’s also more than good enough.

Considering the cash that’s pulled in from each fight, I had expected more. But this is a place people pay to watch fighters get brutalized, not sip their overpriced drinks from their box seats. There are a couple hundred people watching, but the livestreams online rack up views in the tens of thousands easily. That’s where the real money is.

As my eyes scan the arena, I can't help but notice the contrast between Shogo and I and the rest of the spectators. The two six-packs of canned margaritas we share atop our bright pastel blanket stand out amongst the beer cans and cigarette butts. Shogo’s dedication to maximalist street fashion paints a vivid pink contrast to the black cargo pants and combat boots of the male-dominated crowd.

I’m not much better in my own tight white crop top and black tennis skirt, both of which seem like they would better suit a frat bar than an underground fight club. I brought an oversized leather jacket with me to help me blend in more, but I took it off shortly after the second fight from the sheer heat of the arena. Even without it, humidity clings to my skin like a film.

“Having fun so far?” Shogo turns to me and asks.

I nod my head while taking another sip of my margarita. The alcohol has me pleasantly buzzed. I’m just floating on a happy cloud, as I sit back and wait for the next fight.

“Yeah, a lot of fun. You’re right, this is way better than the pay-per-view,” I answer.

“Right? Like you’d never get to see a guy kick someone so hard they fucked up the concrete. That was crazy,” Shogo says.

I hum in agreement.

“That was pretty gnarly. I didn’t even think it was physically possible to do that. The Todo guy must be like one of the strongest men alive,” I say.

Shogo snorts. He opens up his phone and opens up the arena’s private discord. His feed is a frenzy of jokes and commentary, most of which are memeing on Todo’s eccentric dance moves.

“Nah, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Just you wait,” he says.

“Who’s up next?”

“Toji Fushiguro versus Mahito. That’s the fight I wanted you to come here to see,” Shogo says.

I recall how he even sold the experience to me in the first place. I had just started taking up boxing classes, and it exposed me to martial arts and fighting in a light I’d never considered before. I had fallen down into the rabbit hole of a new obsession, watching videos of fights, both professional and amateur, until it took up most of my free time.

I knew Shogo shared the interest. When he offered to take me to see a fight in person, I couldn’t turn him down. He had warned me that this would be different. That it would be more violent, and more ruthless than any legal fight I’d watched. If anything, that warning just made me more intrigued.

So far, the fights were intense, but not any more so than what I can find on YouTube. While Todo possesses a strength unlike anything I’ve ever seen before or thought possible, he didn’t do anything with it that would have broken the rules of a UFC fight.

Still, I find myself wondering just what kind of monstrous power the next two fighters must have, in order to make a mountain like Todo seem like fodder. Shogo doesn’t make claims like that for the sake of it, and my mind races with the intrigue of it all.

“Anything I should keep an eye out for, or know ahead of time about their fight?” I ask Shogo.

“Oh my god yeah, where do I even begin?” He says animatedly.

“Give me a quick rundown from the start. Go,” I snap my fingers into a finger gun, and take an expectant sip of my margarita.

“Okay so basically, Toji is one of the most powerful fighters in the game right now. Like I’m talking top three easy. He’s been fighting professionally for like fifteen years and has been undefeated for all those years except for once. Like I’m talking thousands of wins against one singular loss. Which is an insane feat in of itself, right? The dude is basically a legend around here. Everyone either wants to fight him, or wants to fight like him.

“But Mahito is new to the scene. He just kinda popped up outta nowhere about a year ago, but he’s been making big waves ever since. Like, the dude is certifiably crazy. On some real psycho shit. But he’s also insanely creative when it comes to his fighting style, which makes him unpredictable to fight and fun to watch. While his record isn’t as impressive as Toji’s, he’s still stupid powerful. He’s risen up the rank of fighters faster than anyone has ever seen before. He fought Todo, the guy who just won, about six months ago, and wrecked him so bad that Todo had to take four months off to recover.”

I process all of the information Shogo gives me. The thought of someone not just winning against Todo, but forcing him to take that much time off to recover, is nearly unthinkable to me.

“So basically it’s the veteran versus the newcomer, huh?”

“Yeah exactly,” Shogo affirms, “but that’s not all. About two weeks ago a video got leaked on twitter of Mahito essentially talking mad shit about Toji, calling him washed up, a has been, too predictable, shit like that, you know? Basically said that everything Toji can do has already been seen and done before, and that he can take him no problem.”

“How did Toji take that?”

“Toji doesn’t normally do the petty drama thing. He just shows up, fights, gets paid, and leaves. So after a week went by and he didn’t say anything, everyone assumed he was just gonna ignore it. But then, outta nowhere, a video pops up on twitter like three days ago, and it’s Toji at a shooting range with a picture of Mahito’s face on the target. He said some cold shit like ‘a bad dog is better off dead’ or something like that.”

Shogo’s excitement as he explains the drama is infectious, and I’m already invested. I also appreciate how closely he’s followed everything, since it makes the anticipation for the upcoming fight that much sweeter.

“Well shit. So this fight is going to be intense, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be crazy.”

“Who do you think will win?”

“I put three hundred on Toji, so he better win. He’s got 7:3 odds right now, so I’m not that worried.”

Shogo slurps messily on his drink as he drains it dry. His thumbs idly scroll through the discord, before he tilts his phone towards me.

“Here’s the video if you wanna see it. The guy with the silver hair is Mahito. The rest are all members of his team. The dude with the dark hair, Geto, is his manager. There’s a shit ton of drama involving him too, but I can tell you all that after the video.”

Mahito surprises me. He doesn’t look how I imagined the man who won against Todo would look. He’s lanky, despite his obvious musculature, and has an almost childishness about him. Though the arena is loud, I can just barely hear the sounds of the video. Mahito’s crass remarks are intercut with sadistic giggles, and it makes my stomach turn sour. Scars lacerate his body in a patchwork fashion, making his skin look like it’s been sewn onto him. He looks like he belongs in a Tim Burton movie more than a fighting ring.

But there’s also something decidedly off about Mahito. His cheeks spread wide in a child-like grin as he talks about how he’s going to kill Toji. His mis-matched eyes glitter in excitement as he shares his murderous fantasies of dismembering him and studying the inner workings of his organs. I can’t help but wrinkle my nose in disgust.

The video ends abruptly, and Shogo takes his phone back.

“I was debating rooting for him because I love a good underdog story, but after watching that, I think I’m team Toji,” I say.

Shogo snickers, and continues to scroll with his thumb through his feed.

“Yeah, no kidding. The guy has a super punchable face.”

“Maybe that’s why he got into fighting in the first place,” I quip, before my curiosity gets the better of me, “What was the drama with the other guy?”

“Okay so the full backstory begins with Toji and this guy named Gojo. Gojo is, without a doubt, the strongest fighter in the world, no cap. Like legit or otherwise, professional or amateur, it doesn’t matter. If you put him in the ring, he will win every single time. Only one other guy is on his level, Sukuna. He’s not called the King of Fighters for no reason. But he’s not relevant to the story, so put a pin in that for now.

“So about ten years ago, Toji challenged Gojo. At the time, Gojo was just a teenager, and had only been on the scene for a year, but he was sweeping everyone he came across, kinda like Mahito. Even still, everyone bet on Toji to win, since at the time he was about five years deep and undefeated. And the first time they fought, Toji did win. He beat Gojo so bad the kid nearly died. But like a week later, Gojo pops up out of nowhere and challenges Toji to a rematch. Everyone thought he was insane, since he hadn’t fully recovered from his injuries yet, but Toji agreed to it. In the rematch Gojo clapped his ass so hard it was devastating. Like Toji got beat so bad he was declared legally dead before they were able to revive him. To this day, it’s still the only time Toji has ever suffered a loss.

“So obviously he didn’t take it well. He lost out on millions in bets, and nearly lost his life. He’s had a grudge against Gojo and anything even remotely related to him ever since.

“The reason why this is all relevant, is because Geto, Mahito’s manager, was best friends with Gojo at the time. So because the two were besties, Toji fucking hates him. Even though the two aren’t friends anymore, it doesn’t matter. Since Mahito is being represented by Geto, and the circumstances are kinda similar, it’s safe to say that Toji was out for blood before the video of Mahito talking shit ever leaked in the first place.”

My head buzzes with this rush of new information. There’s so much lore to process, and it gives me a deeper appreciation for what will certainly be a monumental fight. The tension and electricity in the air suddenly makes a lot more sense.

“Wow, who knew there was so much drama in the fighting community?” I say.

Shogo slurps on his drink and nods.

“Tell me about it.”

“So have Toji and Gojo ever talked about a rematch?” I ask.

“Honestly I don’t know. It’s just kind of low-key understood that a match between Toji and Gojo would just end up in Toji losing again, since Gojo became an absolute monster after that. That fight is where he got the nickname the ‘Strongest Fighter’ from. Also, Gojo doesn’t fight much anymore, since there’s no one on his level good enough to challenge him and keep him interested.”

“What about Sukuna? Didn’t you say they were equals?”

“Yeah. Sukuna and Gojo have been talking about fighting each other forever, but no one knows if or when it’ll actually happen. Sukuna still fights occasionally, if he thinks it’ll be worth his time, but he’s good friends with Toji so it’s unlikely a fight between them will ever happen.”

I sip on my drink and think everything over. I had no idea there could be so much history in the scene like this.

“Next up, Toji Fushiguro versus Mahito! The fight will begin in five minutes!” The announcer calls.

His voice booms around the empty warehouse, and not for the first time I find myself wishing I had brought some earplugs.

Shogo mutters a brief ‘aha’ before tilting his phone towards me.

“Here, this is Toji’s response video that I mentioned earlier,” Shogo says, before handing his phone to me entirely.

I press play. Toji’s back is towards the camera, and the immense sprawl of his muscles which strain through the clingy black t-shirt he wears makes my pulse pound. He might as well not be wearing it at all, for how little it hides. It wraps and contorts around every single well-defined muscle in the man’s torso.

He’s enormous, with impossibly broad shoulders made to look wider by the narrowness of his waist. His sweatpants are baggy and sling low on his slim hips, but they still can’t hide the firm swell of his ass.

His shaggy black hair covers his face from view. His stance is casual. He leans forward into his hip, which draws attention to the dramatic s-curve of his spine. One thick arm relaxes behind his back, with his fingers splayed wide. His hands are enormous, and serve to make the glock he’s holding look like little more than a child’s toy.

The man had a body made for sin. Holy shit. Even without seeing his face, I’d let that man rail me into next Tuesday if he so much as asked.

“What d’you do to a rabid dog?” Toji asks over his shoulder to the camera man.

His voice is low and resonant. Even despite the low volume, the sound of it sends a shiver down my spine.

Six shots fire off in rapid succession, and Toji doesn’t even budge from the recoil. His gun smokes as the clip goes empty. The camera pans from Toji to his target at the end of the range, before zooming in.

A picture of Mahito’s face covers the target’s head. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t seeing the bullet holes carve out a perfectly punctured ’T’ into the picture.

The camera pans back to Toji, who keeps his back to the camera. He raises the gun to his mouth, and blows out the smoke still coiling from the barrel of the gun. I can just barely see the sharp cut of his jaw and the scar that bisects the side of his mouth.

“You put it down,” he smirks. His voice is deep and husky, and the sound makes my skin shiver.

Just as Toji starts to turn towards the camera, the video cuts off.

“Holy shit,” I say.

It’s all I can say. Because my pulse is racing, and my head is spinning, and my face flushes hot when I realize I’m dripping wet.

“What’d you think of that?” Shogo asks, and plucks his phone from my hands.

My fingers tremble slightly now that I no longer have anything to hold onto, so I reach for a new can of my margarita to still them.

“I think he’s so hot it’s stupid,” I say shamelessly.

Shogo laughs hard enough that a few of the other spectators turn towards us in mild interest. My face flushes hotter at the attention, and I gulp down a few sips of my drink.

“I figured you’d be into him. Bad boys with more muscles than sense have always been your type,” Shogo giggles.

I open my mouth to defend myself, but a string of my previous partners comes to mind, and I close it once more. I really can’t argue with that.

“Like you’re one to talk,” I sneer at him instead.

I cross my arms across my chest and pout.

“Yeah, but I also like the good girls, so it all balances out to neutral. You’re just a freak,” Shogo laughs.

My glare at him is venomous, but it just makes him laugh all the more. Eventually he raises his hand in a sign of surrender.

“Simmer down, girl. There’s nothing wrong with bein’ a lil freaky,” he snickers.

I throw an empty margarita can at his head, which he slaps away with a snicker. It falls to the ground beneath the shipping container we sit on.

I think nothing of it, until I hear a loud, angry “What the fuck!” cry out from beneath us.

I freeze, and my eyes go wide with panic. Swallowing past the lump of nerves in my throat, I tentatively crawl forwards to peer over the side of the shipping container.

Right below us is the makeshift VIP section, with couches, bottles, powders, and more strewn about everywhere. There’s about ten people sitting around in total, all watching as a person with a short blonde bob angrily wipes down their shoulder.

The can must not have been as empty as I thought.

Mortification burns through me alongside an immediate pulsing fear.

I’m so never getting invited back.

If there’s any kind of crowd I don’t want to piss off, it’s this one.

“Sorry,” I meekly call out to them down below.

A few heads look up in my direction at the sound of my voice, and my face flushes hot under their scrutiny.

But I can feel the weight of a gaze settle heavy over my skin, prickling it into goosebumps. My eyes sweep over everyone, trying to find the source of it.

“Fuck you, asshole!” The person shouts back.

I ignore them.

One figure in particular, a large man with his hood pulled low, stares upwards at me. Him. I can feel him watching me, and I shiver where I kneel, and my hands grip tight onto the edge of the shipping container below me.

I can just barely make out the sharp cut of his jaw, and the strange tattoos that frame it. He says something to the crowd around him. Everyone else laughs, except for the unfortunate victim of my drink who stomps their foot in frustration. I can see just enough of his jaw to watch the cruel smirk that forms on his lips.

Despite his joke to the crowd, I feel that his eyes never leave me.

The sounds of the arena seem to go quiet as all of my focus narrows down to the stranger below.

My instincts scream at me that I need to run, and I need to hide, because I’ve caught the attention of a predator, and I don’t want to give him the chance to pounce. My blood rushes in my ears, and sweat beads atop my body.

But the weight of his stare holds me captive. I’m helpless to do anything other than watch as his tongue traces along the lush swell of his bottom lip, before he flashes his sharp canines in a menacing grin.

I flush red hot, and a corresponding throb pulses deep in my core.

The arousal I felt watching Toji’s video is a catalyst for my body now getting overtaken with lust. Molten heat liquifies my veins, and the headiness of the alcohol buzzes through me in a lethal combination.

Mortified by my body’s reaction, I crawl quickly back to the blanket next to Shogo, breaking the stalemate between the stranger and I. As I collapse beside him, I shiver at the adrenaline that courses through me. The primal, instinctual part of my brain screams that I’ve just barely managed to escape, and that I’m not safe yet.

Shogo, oblivious to my inner turmoil, just snickers at me as I flop onto my back next to him and bury my face in my hands. Without opening my eyes to look, I lash out and smack him on the arm.

“Nice one,” he snickers.

“Fuck you,” I grumble.

My threat is muffled by my hands over my face, but I don’t care. I’m too busy focusing on breathing like a normal person and commanding my body to calm down from the sudden, roaring height of its arousal.

Any response Shogo says is lost on me as all of the lights in the arena go dark. Loud bass pumps through the speakers, and I can feel it vibrate and rattle in my chest.

Pushing aside my feelings, I allow myself to get caught up in the mania. The crowd around us roars in anticipation, and I join in, cupping my hands around my mouth and shouting into the blackened air. An electric tingle of anticipation starts to brew in my blood. I feel breathless, and I smile into the darkness.

This is so much fun.

The music cuts out. A singular beat of silence, suspended in the darkness, rings out across the arena.

The music blares back in with the full power and sound of the song. The lights turn on, and the ring is illuminated in bright, harsh spotlights. A man towers tall in the center of the ring, with his identity obscured by the black hood pulled low over his head.The crowd goes absolutely feral, but I freeze.

Oh fuck me sideways.

It’s him. The same guy from below who made my pussy drip from the force of his stare alone.

The microphone he holds in his hand looks tiny, and I am surprised to see that his nails are painted black. He just stands there, basking in the attention and suspense of the crowd.

My eyes trail up and down his body. Now that I can see him more clearly, my walls clench fruitlessly around nothing. The black hoodie he wears is strained tight against his broad torso. His dark jeans cling to his muscular thighs like a second skin. He must be another fighter, with a physique like that.

After a beat, he raises a painted hand to his hood. Instead of pulling it back like I assumed he would, his hand continues to rise until it grabs ahold of the fabric on the back of his neck. In a singular fluid motion, he yanks the hoodie off entirely.

“Holy fucking shit!” Shogo yells next to me.

Holy shit indeed.

The man that stands in the center of the ring exudes power and confidence. He looks lethal, with his tight, rippled abdomen, full pecs, and broad shoulders corded with thick, deadly muscles. The tattoos that decorate his skin are thick, black, tribal lines that seem to carve out a path that accentuates the lines of his body. His messy hair is a bright pink, with a dark brown undercut. He smoothes his hair back with a painted hand and a sharp grin.

The tattoos continue to outline his face, curving along the harsh cut of his jaw, slashing across the bridge of his nose, and inking his forehead between his dark brows. His eyes glint with a dark promise, and the smile that broadens the man’s mouth is nothing short of sadistic.

The guys in the arena are obviously not good men. It takes a certain kind of person to want to fight so extremely, and to be so entertained by it. But as I watch this man raise his thick arms high into the air around him, basking in the feral cry of the crowd as it screams for him, it is obvious that he’s different.

He’s even worse.

After a minute of taking it all in, he raises the microphone to his sharp mouth. The dark chuckle that fills the air makes me shiver and my nipples tighten. I feel a throb deep in my core, and I squirm atop the firm ridges of the shipping container below.

At the sound of his dark laughter, and before he even gets the chance to speak, the crowd is roaring again, showering him with even more praise and adoration. The man’s grin grows wider, and his sharp teeth glint malevolently beneath the harsh spotlights.

“Alright, shut up you brats,” he growls into the microphone.

I’ll be damned if the dark sound of his voice doesn’t make me quiver. The crowd dies down, obeying the command of the dark god before them.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He jokes.

The crowd goes wild again, and this time a masculine chant booms in the air.

Su-ku-na! Su-ku-na! Su-ku-na!

So this is Sukuna.

The King of Fighters himself.

He raises one hand high, effectively calling for silence. Immediately, everyone goes quiet. The man’s command over the room is absolute.

“I was worried that it’s been so long that I might have to introduce myself, but I see now that’s no longer a problem,” Sukuna smirks.

There’s a cold mockery in his tone that betrays just how much he revels in the crowd’s adoration. His dark eyes scan across the crowd as he basks in the wild roars that fall around him.

“I have a surprise for you brats,” he taunts in a sing-song voice.

I can feel the exact moment that his eyes make contact with mine.

I’m flung from my body. The air freezes in my lungs. The sounds of the crowd go quiet except for the ringing in my ears. My vision narrows down to just the outline of his body. That same force keeps me still, and my instincts are once again screaming at me to hide. His gaze is unwavering, and I am exposed before him.

“Are you ready for me?” Sukuna purrs into the microphone.

Shivers sweep down my spine, and I flash hot. I bite my lip hard, genuinely afraid that if I don’t, I might moan.

Holy shit.

The crowd roars around him, but it's lost on me entirely. I can’t see or hear anything outside of the tension that sizzles between us like a live wire.

“Tut, tut, tut. I asked you a question, brats,” Sukuna snarls, and his eyes darken as they glare at mine.

While I know he says it for the crowd’s benefit, my arousal drips out of me at the sound of his scolding. His piercing eyes flash with a dark promise, and the look he levels towards me is nothing short of commanding.

His threat is clear.

“Let’s try this again,” he purrs, before pulling the microphone in closer to his mouth than before.

“Are you ready for me?” Sukuna roars.

The sound of his voice is monstrous, and tinged with something entirely animalistic. If I thought the roar of the crowd was loud before, then it is absolutely nothing compared to the fervor of it now.

Those same prey instincts are going haywire in my blood, and I can scarcely breathe for how tight of a grip my adrenaline has over my body.

I lick my suddenly dry lips, and burn in the heat of his stare, as I whisper, “Yes.”

Sukuna’s eyes grow dark with heat and triumph.

My core throbs low, and the persistent ache of emptiness sweeps through me.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” he snarls.

His dark eyes finally leave mine, and it’s like I collide back into my body with a visceral force. Sensations flood in from all around me at once, from the sheer volume of the crowd, the stifling heat of the room, and the absolutely drenched state of my underwear.

Immediately, heat flushes my cheeks. I’ve never reacted like this before. Though I don’t smoke anymore, I find myself itching for a cigarette. And another margarita.

“The lovely event organizers and I decided we wanted to make things a bit interesting,” he begins, a sadistic enjoyment sugaring his dark tone, “so to shake things up a bit, whoever wins this next fight, either Toji Fushiguro or Mahito, will get the honor of fighting me in two months.”

“Oh my fucking god!” Shogo cries out.

Based on what Shogo had told me earlier, I now know that this is a big fucking deal. The crowd absolutely loses it.

“So with that out of the way, let’s get this thing fucking started, yeah?” Sukuna says, rallying the cry of the crowd once more. “May the best fighter win.”

With that, Sukuna passes off the microphone to the announcer, and prowls back out of the ring. My eyes are glued to him as he ducks beneath the rope of the VIP section. He stands a clear two heads taller than the crowd of people parading around him and clapping him on the back. Even surrounded by other fighters, he finds a way to make them look small. He takes a seat back on the couch, and reclines back like a king in his throne.

The announcer picks up Sukuna’s hoodie, and tosses it over to him. Sukuna catches it with a one-handed grip, and my eyes dance over every ripple of muscle that flexes and pulls from the simple display of athleticism.

Good fucking god, I need to get a grip.

“Let’s give it up one more time for the King of Fighters himself, Ryomen Sukuna!” The announcer cheers.

The crowd roars again, and my eyes remained fixed on the man as he flashes yet another sharp grin at the never-ending adoration.

He doesn’t demure from the praise, he basks in it.

“This headlining match is sure to be exciting folks. But first, what does every good fight need? The fighters themselves!

“First up, we have a prodigy in the making. Standing at five feet and ten inches tall, and weighing one-hundred-and-forty-five pounds, we have the scrappy underdog from hell itself, MAHITOOOOOO!”

The crowd cheers as Mahito appears from the right-hand side of the ring. He all but skips to the ring itself, and the camera man tracking him stumbles after him.

His team is standing just off to the side of the ring, and I recognize them from the video that Shogo showed to me. Mahito is as energetic as a kid with a sugar rush, as he bounces restlessly on the balls of his feet.

Once more I’m surprised by what Shogo said earlier. Looking down at him, it’s hard to imagine him beating Todo so easily. His body is long and lean, and while muscular, he’s nothing compared to the solid mountain of the other fighter. But clearly his looks are deceiving.

“Next we have the legend himself, undefeated to all but one over the span of his decade-and-a-half long career. Standing at six feet and three inches, and weighing two-hundred-and-eighteen pounds, we have the fighter killer himself, TOJIIII FUSHIIGUUROO!”

Whatever adoration rained down on Mahito, it pales in comparison to the roar of the crowd for Toji. I have half a mind to cover my ears to spare them from taking further damage. It’s clear who is the crowd’s favorite.

Toji Fushiguro stalks towards the ring from the left with a predatory grace. He looks even more monstrous than in the video, and it’s clear that it didn’t do him justice. He wears a white hoodie that’s unzipped down the middle, baring his taut, cut abdomen for all to see. His white athletic shorts strain tight against his thick thighs, and curve along the swell of his ass. The tension in his muscles is coiled tight. With his unwavering focus narrowing down to Mahito across the ring, I can all but taste his lethal hostility in the air.

When he reaches the ring, he pulls off his hoodie with short, aggressive pulls. He is every bit as impressive as his stats make him out to be. The breadth of his shoulders and narrowness of his waist are nothing less than superhuman in their proportions. His arms pull and flex as he balls his hoodie up and tosses it carelessly to the side. There’s a massive scar that carves a jagged arc into his left side, and it spans nearly the entirety his torso. It’s a gruesome scar, and I wonder what gave it to him.

His messy ink-stained hair falls sharply into his eyes, but I can see the animosity burn in them all the same. His sharp jaw is clenched tight with tension, and the veins in his throat pulse visibly. His own team is speaking to him, but I can tell he’s not listening. His glare hasn’t moved once from Mahito, not even as the other fighter begins to prance around his side of the ring, hyping up the crowd even more.

The projectors display closeups of the fighters faces, and the contrast couldn’t be more clear. While Mahito performs, Toji waits. There’s something about the dynamic that makes my blood race. Blown up large against the wall, the burning hatred glinting savagely in Toji’s dark green eyes is blistering.

My instincts scream that Toji is lethal and dangerous and absolutely terrifying. I almost feel sorry for Mahito, for having incurred the wrath of this god amongst men so completely.

My pussy is screaming too, but for a different reason entirely.

The two fighters are called to meet together in the middle of the ring. Seeing them stand opposite one another makes the fight seem simply unfair. Toji glares down at Mahito like a lion staring down an ant. Mahito remains unintimidated, and smiles up at Toji with a wicked gleam in his mis-matched eyes. I try to remind myself that despite appearances, the fight is more evenly matched than it seems.

The hatred that flows between the two sparks and crackles in the air. The tension is thick enough to make my breath catch. Almost absently, I crawl to the edge of the shipping container and sit there instead. I hear Shogo shuffle to copy me, equally as entranced by the anticipatory hostility brewing between the two fighters as I am.

I can’t fucking wait to see it snap.

The announcer claps both men on the shoulder, before stepping back to the edge of the ring.

“No rules, no limits. First fighter to score a knockout wins!” The announcer declares.

The two fighters step back and slip into their fighting stances.

Mahito stands unusually, with one arm ahead of him like he’s reaching out towards Toji, while his other hand balls into a fist low by his hip. His legs are bent low and spread wide, and he looks very much like a coil, ready to spring.

Toji’s stance is also unusual. His legs spread wide, but he doesn’t squat as low as Mahito. His torso curls forward, with his arms wide around him, fists ready for the fight. There’s a confidence in the way that he stands that borders on arrogance, and the sight of it makes me fucking leak.

“Begin!”

The two fighters are a blur of movement as they dash towards one another with tremendous speed. Mahito is the first to swing, but Toji is faster, and counters the swing with one of his own. His fist lands solidly in the center of Mahito’s chest, and the fighter goes flying backwards from the force of his punch. Mahito lands hard into the concrete below, and blood sputters from his mouth, drooling onto his chin.

Mahito is only down for half a second, before he staggers to his feet. A grin splits his cheeks, and the sight of his blood-stained teeth is chilling. He giggles, and bounces on his feet, before springing towards Toji.

Toji lets Mahito dash in close. As soon as Mahito goes to throw a punch, Toji moves in a dizzying blur of speed around the other fighter, pivots quick on his heel, and sends a powerful kick to the back of Mahito’s skull.

Mahito stumbles forward onto his hands and knees, and blood immediately begins to darken his silver hair. Still, Mahito giggles at the impact, and shakes his head back and forth. Blood splatter flies everywhere around them. Toji interrupts by rushing up behind Mahito’s exposed back, wraps a thick arm around his neck, and pulls Mahito back into a tight headlock.

Mahito’s face turns red, as his hands claw and scrape at the thick muscle of Toji’s arm. Toji’s other hand curls into a tight fist and pummels blow after blow into Mahito’s ribs and kidneys.

Blood sprays from Mahito’s mouth, but he keeps grinning, regardless. The pain he’s in must be tremendous, but he takes all of Toji’s blows with a smile.

Mahito drops his body, deadening his weight against Toji’s chokehold. Toji leans down lower to compensate for the sudden increase in weight. Mahito uses this to his advantage, and springs backwards, sending both Toji and Mahito falling hard to the floor. Toji ducks his head inwards to prevent his skull from being shattered in the cement, and pulls Mahito in tight by the hold he has on his neck.

With a sly smile, Mahito reaches into the pocket of his shorts.

My blood runs cold.

In a flash, he pulls out a pocket knife, flips it open, and thrusts it upwards, stabbing into the arm wrapped around his neck.

Toji’s eyes widen, and he reflexively releases his hold just enough for Mahito to squirm free. Toji’s hand grabs ahold of the handle of the knife and pulls it out of his arm, while Mahito flips over and moves to straddle Toji, pinning him to the ground.

Toji just laughs, and dexterously twirls the knife in his hand. Mahito swings down hard at Toji, who manages to duck his head out of the way by a millimeter.

A sickening crack echoes though the arena. I wait for Mahito’s bloodied hand to emerge, destroyed by the impact of his fist on the concrete floor. But Toji rolls the two of them over fast.

My jaw drops.

A fist-sized crater shatters the concrete at the site of the impact.

What the fuck?

Did Mahito just punch a hole into the concrete?

I don’t have the time to process the tremendous power I just saw. Instead, my eyes are glued to Toji straddling a squirming Mahito, with the knife trapped between his teeth. He storms down a rain of powerful blows directly into Mahito’s face. The first punch shatters bone, and blood spurts all over his knuckles. Toji’s smile at the sight is carnal. The second impact is more devastating than the first, and teeth fly from Mahito’s mouth.

It goes on like this. Hit after savage hit. Blood paints Toji’s hands crimson. His inky hair clumps down over his manic eyes. There is no thought behind them except for the predatory gleam of bloodlust. A sharp grin twists his scarred lips around the blade of the knife, and there is not a single doubt for how much Toji is enjoying himself.

Mahito has finally stopped laughing. His head lolls back into the concrete, and his body goes limp. Toji grabs ahold of Mahito’s hair, and yanks his head up, continuing his assault on the unconscious man’s head.

“Time!”

Toji’s fist crashes down into Mahito’s face one last time before he leans back. His large chest heaves from a mixture of exertion and bloodlust. Sweat shines on his skin, and the blood splatter trickles in rivers down the contours of his body. He shakes his wet hair like a dog, and the sweat and blood fly around them.

My thighs clench, and I want to lick it off of his skin.

Toji spits the knife out onto the floor beside him. He leans his head back, and his triumphant smile into the air above is nothing short of beastly.

With Toji’s head leaned back, he doesn’t see as Mahito’s fingers twitch towards the knife beside them. Once his fingers wrap around the handle, he flies forward in a sudden vicious arc that slashes upwards at Toji’s torso.

“Gotcha!” Mahito giggles.

Toji reacts quickly, to the sudden motion of Mahito below him, but still manages to get caught along the top of his right pec. He wraps a thick hand around Mahito’s wrist, stopping the knife from doing any further damage. With his other hand, he fixes a firm grip around mahito’s shoulder, and with a savage twist and brutal cry, he tears his arm back.

Blood spurts like a fountain, painting everything in a sea of red.

In Toji’s hand, he holds the severed remains of Mahito’s arm, torn completely free from his body.

Mahito’s screams echo in the cavernous room. He squirms from beneath the bulk of Toji’s body, flailing his remaining arm against Toji’s thick thighs in an effort to get free.

It reminds me of the dying throes a rabbit caught between the teeth of a lion. It’s a last, desperate attempt at life when he knows it’s coming to an end.

Toji grabs the knife from Mahito’s severed hand, then tosses the limb carelessly to the side. He twirls it around once more, before viciously plunging it down into Mahito’s torso. With a ferocious smile, he licks his lips, then starts carving into Mahito’s chest.

Mahito’s screams cut off abruptly. The absence of it echoes just as loudly.

When he’s done, Toji leans back onto his hips, and appraises his work with a sadistic grin. He raises the knife to his mouth, and his tongue licks along the side of the blade. He smiles at the taste, before plunging it down into Mahito’s head, right between his brows.

Toji rises to his feet. He towers over Mahito’s dead body. Power and aggression pour off of him in waves. His grin is absolutely feral, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction. He wears the other man’s blood like war paint.

He picks up Mahito’s head, and with one hand, he dangles his body upwards for all to see.

What remains of Mahito’s torso is mutilated by a crudely carved letter ’T’. The roar of the crowd is animalistic. Men holler and cry out into the air, pounding their fists to their chest and stomping their feet on the ground. Toji holds the body aloft for a few more moments, before throwing it carelessly back to the ground.

He steps back to the center of the ring. The announcer trembles forward. He stares at Toji with wide fearful eyes, before gingerly grabbing ahold of the fighter’s thick wrist. After a moment’s hesitation, he raises Toji’s arm high in the air.

“And the winner is TOJIII FUSHIGUROO!”

My blood rushes in my ears, and my lungs constrict. Any alcohol in my system has all but evaporated, and I’m stone-cold sober. The primal energy storms around me, and my body tingles with the electricity and the adrenaline. My instincts are quiet, and I fear its silence more than I feared when it was screaming at me earlier. My mind is blank, but my body burns.

I just watched a man die.

I just watched Toji Fushiguro kill a man.

And yet. For reasons that defy logic. For reasons that make me want the earth to split open beneath me and swallow me whole.

I am undeniably, irrrefutably, achingly aroused.

I’m trembling from the force of the heat that burns inside of me. Absently, I grab my drink and chug it all down in one go. It dribbles down my chin and into my shirt, but I don’t care. I wipe carelessly at my mouth with the back of my hand and take in deep, greedy gulps of air when it’s done.

Toji’s team wipes him down, cleaning off the other man’s blood. I can’t process it. Mahito’s team walks away, with Geto yawning as he exits the ring. I watch as some of the event staff approach Mahito’s body, pick him up, and carry him out. Two others immediately start wiping down the area, scouring the concrete for every drop of blood.

After a moment or two, it’s like there was never any blood at all.

I watch as Sukuna saunters up to Toji and claps him on the back. The two men standing together look like giants surrounded by ants. I watch idly as they converse, and my heart stutters at the wide, sharp grin on Toji’s scarred lips.

I need to calm down. Now.

My skin prickles, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My breathing stops, and my blood sings.

I can feel them looking at me.

I know it like I know my own name.

I drag my unfocused eyes from the fist-sized crater in the ring, over to where the two men stand speaking.

Heat burns in my veins, as my eyes lock on to Sukuna’s.

Adrenaline pumps my blood fast, and all at once my instincts are screaming at me again.

Run. Hide. Escape.

But I’m frozen. I can do nothing more than return his stare. Sukuna nods his chin in my direction while he says something to Toji. The fighter turns to look over his shoulder, and his sharp green eyes seek out mine.

Oh fuck me. Fuck me sideways to hell and back.

The combined weight of their stares makes me tremble. Toji’s eyes light a path of fire as they dip to my legs and trail upwards along my body. His look is like a physical touch along my skin and it makes me shiver. My arousal drips out of me, and I press my thighs together tight. Sweat tickles my spine as it runs down my back. Toji turns back to Sukuna. He says something which makes Sukuna laugh, and my cheeks flush with heat and shame.

They’re laughing at me. I’m certain of it.

What pricks.

My anger breaks me out of my trance, and I jolt back to life atop the shipping container. Shogo has begun packing up our things and stuffing it into his backpack, all while feverishly scrolling through the discord.

I’m sure the live chat was going crazy after watching Toji Fushiguro brutally murder a man.

I spring into action in a dull haze, helping Shogo pack the last of our things, before scaling down the ladder to the ground below. My body moves on autopilot.

“That was fucking insane,” Shogo says.

His thumbs are furiously flying across his keyboard, and I know his attention will be preoccupied for a while.

“Yeah, that was crazy,” I agree.

I’m surprised I can even speak, and that my voice sounds this strong.

“That wasn’t even a fight, that was a massacre,” Shogo continues, his voice filled with awe.

I hum in agreement.

I was wrong before. Very wrong. Toji and Mahito were never evenly matched to begin with.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I need a drink. Actually, scratch that. I know I need a drink. Several. You game?”

I let out a hollow laugh.

“Yeah, lead the way.”

“Yo, Shogo!” A voice calls out.

We both turn towards a man jogging towards us. He has a shaved head and ink covering every visible inch of his dark skin. The piercings in his lip shine as he smiles at my friend.

“Oh shit, Rocco! Good to see you, man. I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” Shogo smiles back.

The two embrace, before Shogo turns back towards me.

“This is my best friend y/n,” he introduces.

Rocco nods his head in greeting, and his smile is warm and inviting.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, while extending my hand out for him to shake.

He takes it with a grip as warm as his smile.

“Rocco. It’s a pleasure. Any friend of Shogo’s is a friend of mine,” he says before he turns back to Shogo. “Say, we’re all gonna go over to The Alley Cat. It’s a bar about two doors down that way. You tryin’ to grab drinks?”

Shogo looks at me for approval, and I shrug.

We were planning on getting drinks either way, and it didn’t matter to me who or where we got them from as long as they were strong.

“Yeah, sure, why not. We’re were just talking about it anyway,” Shogo agrees for the both of us.

“Cool. If you wanna give me a second to grab my stuff, we can walk over there together,” Rocco says.

We follow Rocco as he leads us to his things, and I can’t help but watch as the two boys animatedly talk over the details of the fight. I don’t mind stepping back from their conversation, as my brain still feels like it’s only operating at half-speed.

I blame that for the reason why I don’t realize he’s leading us back over to the VIP section until he’s stepping over the ropes.

My heart pounds as the realization sets in, and my eyes frantically scan the crowd inside to look for that signature pink hair.

I try everything in my power to ignore the sting of disappointment I feel when I realize he isn’t there.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji smut #toji x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #toji x sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #toji fushiguro #jjk smut #1st person #jjk fanfic

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sphireath-wisp · 5 months

Text

#Sweather Weather

Sypnosis: "Because the season I like is a short thing, it melted away without me noticing. Alone in this moving scenery, I stand still and think of you." Spending their favorite season with you.

Warnings: Not Proofread, short, indulged a little, you can definitely tell who are my favorites

Featuring: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor x GN! Reader/MC

Lucifer - Autumn

After a long day, Lucifer settles in his office, knees giving up on carrying his own weight and he lands right onto the cushions of his chair. A sigh causes all the tension he's stored up to release - shoulders slumping, jaw relaxing, finally dropping the prideful facade and front he puts up for Diavolo's sake once he's alone.

Well, not entirely, alone.

You're there, right by him during his favourite season, and he hopes you stay just as close during any other season. You're leaning forward, back arched as your head rests on the little space left on his table aside from all of the documents and papers piled onto it. Judging by your soft snores, you're sound asleep.

"(Name)... what am I going to do with you, human?" he speaks more fondly than he realizes, expression softening as he's found comfort in your presence. Leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead, he drapes his coat over your shoulders - it is getting colder after all, he excuses his actions internally.

Lucifer doesn't exactly remember when your habit began, but from his memory, he remembers it was another autumn night. Adjusting to Devildom wasn't an easy feat and sleep didn't come as easily as you hoped some nights. With pillows wrapped in your embrace and hauling your blankets down the hallway, you found refuge in his office.

"(Name)?" He's surprised you forgot to knock. If not for his own exhaustion, he would have grown more irritated by the intrusion. "Is there something you need?"

"...Can't sleep. Sorry for barging in like this," he can faintly hear your murmurs, voice hoarse.

"Have any of my brothers been disrupting your sleep schedule?" The first thing that comes to his mind would be the troublesome second-born.

"No, I just... want some company. Is it okay if I just sit here?" You gesture.

Lucifer's eyes narrow slightly. While it would be easy to chase you out - Lucifer is busy enough, taking care of you is also one of his many responsibilities. "...Don't touch anything."

It wasn't a direct 'no', you figure. "Yessir."

Mammon - Summer

Basking in the sun, toes in the sand, and shots of blue paradise that leave a fruity taste on one's tongue is what summer is all about... according to Mammon. There's no better time to take a dip in the ocean and let loose with a few margaritas when it comes to summer.

He had been raving about going to the beach the whole of Spring to the point where it had reached Diavolo's ears. "It's a well-deserved break, ya know?" Mammon bargained with Diavolo, delighted to the extremes when he agreed to let him and his brothers take a short vacation at his private resort.

But, of course, Mammon had his ulterior motives.

"Come on, (Name)! You're the only human that keeps me waiting like this, ya know?" Mammon reaches out for your hand, grip firm when you finally envelop his hand with yours - as if he never wanted to let you go.

"I heard there was some good treasure buried around the resort. Imagine the amount of grimm I could get if we found a gem or two!" Mammon leads you to the beach, not a stagger in his steps as he practically skips there.

"So, you want to make me help you find some treasure?"

"Ya finally got it, human! Now, come-"

"and do you know where this so-called treasure is? Or what we're gonna use to dig it up?"

Mammon's silence and expression tell you he didn't exactly think this through. "W-well, we'll figure it out on the way, right?" He quickly quips back to life, a happy-go-lucky grin on his face when you laugh at his antics.

"Fine, but I get 90% of the treasure."

"E-eh?! C'mon, that's too much!"

Leviathan - Autumn

Levi doesn't find himself liking a certain season. But if he HAD to pick one, it'd be autumn.

Winter gets too cold for his scales and he has to tend to them, which is a hassle since he could be spending that precious time binge-watching the latest animes. Summer is too hot for his liking and it's not as if he can bring his figurines to the beach where they could be washed away in the ocean! Spring? Eh, it's alright - nothing too special to Levi.

But, autumn! Halloween animes and events! New merch and deals! Price drops and cosy weather! The four seasons honestly don't make that much of a difference to him because he likes to stay inside, but autumn actually makes him want to step outside for a bit.

Not to mention, you - his favorite normie, his player 2. That extra ticket he "accidentally" bought for the upcoming convention would go to waste if he didn't ask you. Mustering up all of his courage, he shyly slides the slip of paper into your hand during game night.

"Oh, you want me to come along?"

"I mean- if you want to!" He almost drops the controller, "Of course, I'll teach you all the proper etiquette."

Your light giggle causes Levi's face to flush red. "Okay then," he breathes a sigh of relief, burying his face even deeper into the pillow on his lap, "I'll come along."

"You're sure, right? Like, 100% sure?" Your nod reassures his doubts, calming his nerves and racing heartbeat. You have no idea how happy you've made him.

Satan - Winter

Curled up with a good book, right by the fireplace in the House of Lamentation, Satan enjoys the cosy atmosphere in the library. In the warm glow of the fire, his favourite sweater was on you instead of him - he always insisted it looked so much better on you than him, he thanked the fact that everyone else was out grocery shopping now.

It was the peak of winter and much too cold for any human to handle. No matter how many layers you were wrapped with, you couldn't stop shivering and figured it'd be best to stay home. "Someone has to take care of the House of Lamentation. (Name) shouldn't move far from the fire, so I'll take over for them." was the excuse that Satan conjured up, a hand on his chin as he dared Lucifer to try and oppose him.

Other than the occasional objection from Levi + Belphie (who wanted to stay home as much as you), Mammon (who wanted to be you and is linked to you by the hip), and Asmo (who insisted that the cold weather was terrible for his oh-so-delicate skin), he won the battle of words and finally had a moment of peace - with his favourite person too.

"Still feeling cold?" As observant as ever, Satan takes notice of your trembling form. You rub your hands together for friction, hoping to generate heat. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Come on, I don't want you to freeze." Satan drags his chair closer to the fire before sitting down, patting his lap with his free hand. You oblige, making yourself comfortable and wrapping your arms around his neck. You feel him rub circles on your back, reading the book in his hand out loud in a low whisper so you can tune in as well.

You bury your face into the crook of his neck. He sighs. "Still feeling cold? Is this any better?"

"Much better. My fingers felt like freezing off." He chuckles, allowing your hands to wander for warmth under his shirt. Satan uses one hand to hold the book, thumb wedged between the pages to keep it open and bookmark where he had stopped. His other hand trailed up your back, toying and playing with your hair and along the nape of your neck.

"Good. Would you like me to continue reading?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay," he says with a smile. He hopes winter doesn't end anytime soon.

Asmodeus - Spring

"Darling, should I keep this or give it as a hand-me-down?" Asmo asks you for the umpteenth time as you lay on his bed. A soft hum escapes you as you think, "You could pass it to Levi, he did say he needed the extra fabric for cosplays. I don't think this jacket suits you anyway."

Winter had ended on a good note. Spring was right around the corner. Lucifer deemed it necessary to do some spring cleaning, which meant that clearing out Asmo's closet was on his list of responsibilities. The clothes were never piled up messily like Belphie or Mammon's, more like untouched since some weren't trendy anymore or couldn't be used for many occasions.

Plus, being Asmo's second opinion means you were the first to snatch any clothes he didn't want anymore. They were always good quality and never stained, so it was practically brand new.

"Nono, keep that one! You could pair it with the jeans you kept just now."

"Oh, right! You have a great eye, sweetheart," You giggle at the compliment.

"Should we give this to Belphie or Satan? Beel would be too big for this." Asmo tosses the fabric to you.

"Belphie in pink?" You bite your lower lip to hold back your laugh, "Asmo, what are you thinking? Belphie would burn this the moment he receives this."

"You'd be surprised at how good Belphie looks in pink, sweetie. It's that bleak attitude and eyebags that hold him back," Asmo continues to dig through his closet, "He let me paint his nails pink before...

Albeit, he was sleeping."

Beelzebub - Summer

It's a nice cool evening and while everyone else is back at their hotel rooms, you bumped into Beel - surprisingly without Belphie since the twins are usually together - near the lobby while planning to go for a stroll. "I'll go with you," he declares firmly, "wouldn't want you getting hurt or lost."

Of course, the only setback is Beel's insatiable hunger, stomach growling just as you begin your stroll - he forgot that his former purpose for going to the lobby was to stop by the snack bar. It wasn't much of a hassle to retrace your steps back, but you couldn't resist the idea of having an impromptu barbecue.

"Careful, it's hot." Beel passes you the meat skewer, blowing light puffs of air on it and holding himself back from eating it right then and there - he made it specifically for you in mind, so he'd disappoint himself if he did decide to eat it impulsively.

And you notice. From the way he paused midway, eyes locked onto the skewer that was starting to look more and more delectable as he stared at it, you could tell immediately that he was dying to have a bite.

Eventually, he passes it to you, eyes only leaving its direction after he passes it to you.

"Want a bite? You've been cooking for a while now," You chuckle.

"Really? You don't mind?" You could see stars forming in his eyes and you giggle at his enthusiasm. When you shake your head, he's practically bursting in euphoria. "I won't be able to hold back, you know that, right?"

You lift the skewer in front of his face and, meeting it eye-to-eye, he couldn't resist. Attention stolen by the skewer before him, you take over and cook for him. It was a futile attempt to keep up with him and he knew it, but food tasted so much better when it's made by you that he couldn't help but ask for another serving.

"All this meat was actually supposed to be for tomorrow's barbecue," You laugh. ""It'll be fine, I'll take the blame," A hand cups your cheek, catching you off guard before it whisks your head towards Beel's direction. He holds the skewer up to your mouth.

"Here, take a bite."

"Thanks," You chew slowly when Beel reminds you to take your time, vivid memories of the last time you choked on your food.

"It's good, right?" His smile only widens when you nod, "I'm glad."

Belphegor - Winter

Come on now. It was plain obvious why Belphie loved winter so much. Cold weather makes him sleepy, and it's always cold. He can hibernate through the whole day and he wouldn't need to move an inch! He rarely woke up during winter, even with the noise the house of lamentation generates daily.

Truly a dream come true for the avatar of sloth.

However, this spoiled little prick has demanded more than just pillows and a quiet environment this winter. He wanted you as his personal plushie and he lacked the courtesy to even ask. You found out about his unexpected request when he tugged on your sleeve, dragging you into his pillow fort and encasing you in a hug.

"Belphie?" You ask aloud, shifting to sit up before realizing his legs were holding you down. "Belphie, I have kitchen duty today. I'll come back later."

He didn't budge. The only response you got was a soft snore from him.

"Beeeelphie?" Your squirming causes him to grunt.

"Stop moving, will you? I'm trying to sleep." Belphie opens one eye, free hand rubbing the other. "I've been having trouble sleeping, so help me."

"You have? You seemed to sleep perfectly fine just a moment ago, Mr. Sleeping Beauty." You scoffed playfully, frostbitten fingertips roaming to his hair.

"That's because you're with me," Belphie huffs, rolling his eyes as if he were saying something so obvious that even Mammon knows. "Now, stay, will you?" He asks, but you don't seem to have much of a choice when he pulls you closer to bury his face into your chest. You sigh, realizing that you want nothing more than to give in to him now.

"Okay. I'll stay, Belphie," you play with his hair, twirling the ends around your finger and slowly soothing him to sleep.

"Thank you."

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itsagrimm · 3 months

Text

As men spending their work time in inhospitable surroundings i am of the firm conviction the 141 taskforce members are cozying up HARDCORE back at home:

Gaz might be able to lay in wait for hours as sniper in the snow or mud if needed but he will dress up from head to toe in cashmere pyjamas while cuddling a hot water bottle under a mountain of blankets at home.

Ghost can walk through the blazing heat in full gear for a mission but will do nothing but sipping margaritas in the cooling shade while yielding a hand ventilator.

Soap can drag himself injured through rain if necessary but that man will pamper himself with a dinosaur plaster at the sight of a tiny cut from cooking.

And finally, Price is managing and dealing with everyone and everything at work. But he will do nothing, absolutely nothing at home if possible. Slouching on the couching reading fairy porn in his underwear, eating take away and ice cream FOR DAYS if he can get away with it.

Good for them.

#task force 141 #141 headcanons #141 task force #call of duty 3 #call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #captain price #john price

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ladylooch · 9 months

Note

Omg it’s okay!!! My request was a smut with Nico and she has a breeding kink after playing with timo and Emma’s kid. And he sucks her tits a LOT. 🫠 and while they’re fucking he dirty talks about having a baby

-🌸 anon

A/N: Message me when you see what I did ☠️ Everyone say thank you 🌸 for smutty Nico and Lexi making our baby, Lucie.

Word Count: 2.0k

From this lil AU.

I am not sure how much longer I can take this.

Our nephew, Lio, is in love with Nico today. He wants nothing to do with either of his parents. The result of Nico carting this baby everywhere is my fertile ovaries bouncing in my body. They ache for Nico until it spreads like consuming wildfire across my skin, burying deep into my bones. The only cure is getting railed.

I push out a heavy breath, catching Emma’s attention.

“You good? You seem like you’re anxious.”

“I- uh.. Yeah. Your brother with Lio is really cute.” Emma shields her eyes, looking to the pool where Nico and Timo supervise Lio’s swim time. He’s wearing little floaties and a floppy, fish bucket hat. Nico is holding him outwards, trolling him through the water as he laughs.

“Yeah that is precious.” Emma whines. “If I didn’t remember labor so distinctly, I might pull the plug and beg for another.” She shrugs, going back to her magazine.

Pulling the birth control plug would be so easy for me right now. I just wouldn’t start my new pack. We could dive right into bed together and he could… My mind gets lost in the fantasy of him and I working together for something so special in our fancy hotel room. Nico has been talking about babies more and more the last few weeks. We have been spending so much time with Timo, Emma, and Lio. The endless baby snuggles and giggles have turned into a craving for us both. Our apartment feels too quiet. Our life has something missing. But babies are a big change. And neither of us has had the courage to spit it out loud yet.

Lio’s crying pulls me out of my daydream. The three boys walk towards us. The upset baby reaches out for his mom with big, crocodile tears, trying to wiggle from Nico’s grasp.

“Oh sweet boy. Come here. Are you tired?” Emma pulls her son into her chest, stroking at his cheek as she gets him ready to nurse. Timo tosses a thin blanket onto the two of them and sits beside Emma on her chaise.

“He’s really tired. He keeps getting water in his eyes from rubbing his fists into them.”

“Yeah, we should go back to the room for a bit.”

“Honestly, I could use a nap too. This kid tired me out being his chauffeur all day.” Nico tells us, yawning at the end.

“He loves you so much.” Emma smiles at her little brother. “You’re daddy material for sure.” Her distinct wink at me has my lips pursing with a giggle.

We all head towards the bank of elevators. Nico asks if I want to grab a drink at the bar, but I shake my head. I am also sleepy from laying in the sun doing absolutely nothing, and laying with him in bed sounds like pure perfection. He is relieved when I say no. Inside our room, I run to the bed, jumping under the covers as Nico puts our pool stuff to the side. I snuggle in deep on his pillow. He chuckles, pushing me over so he can climb in.

“I wanna share this with you.” It’s a California King and fairly feasible. He settles on the other side, turned my way so we can look at each other. I think about telling him my desires from the pool, but his black lashes are battling sleep and it’s not the time.

Nico wakes me up an hour later with a gentle squeeze of my butt. Then, his lips begin to pepper kisses along my cheeks.

“Hey, Emma just called. They are ready to head back down. Do you want to go or stay here?”

“Let’s go.” I nod, stretching out. I feel recharged from my nap and ready for another margarita.

Nico heads to the bathroom then comes out, double checking the pool bags.

“Oh, Lio’s hat is with us.” He picks it up, showing me the floppy bucket hat that was responsible for the ovary bouncing. “I can’t wait to buy our kids cute stuff like this. I mean, come on.” He chuckles, tossing it to me. I catch it, tracing an orange fish with googly eyes. My eyes go back to his as he ruffles around in the bags some more, checking the sunscreen supply. He does a double take when he sees the look in my eyes.

“Lex?”

“Neeks, I want you to get me pregnant. I want your baby in me like now.” The words fly out of my mouth suddenly. I clasp my hand over my mouth in shock. Then force myself to continue because the words touched air and I have an ache that will not let me breathe if he doesn’t soothe it. “I want our babies to grow up with Em and Timo’s kids. Let’s just have a whole parade of them together.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m so serious. Drop the bags and put a baby in me.”

With no hesitation, Nico empties his hands. He rushes across the room to me, lifting me up into his arms as we aggressively grope at each other. Tongues lap at each other as Lio’s fish hat falls to the ground at our feet.

“Please. Please.” I beg him again. “Watching you with Lio. It’s… done something to me. My brain chemistry is fucked. I don’t know.”

“Damn, Lex.” He moans. “This is so hot.” He groans back as I rub against him, squeezing him over his swim suit. “Are you sure? I need you to be so sure.”

“I am, babe. Please.”

“God, say ‘please put a baby in me’.”

“Please.” I whine earnestly. “Put your baby in me. Wanna make you a daddy, Neeks.”

Nico grunts out in earnest, then puts me on the edge of the bed. He reaches for my bikini bottoms, pulling them off and tossing them behind him. They land on the corner of the TV. I laugh, then suck in a surprised gasp as Nico strokes a finger through my slick flesh.

“Soaked. Baby.” He moans. “Are you off the pill?”

“Um, well, I was supposed to start today but I haven’t taken it.”

“So this is… no birth control at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.” He moans, then pulls himself out of his blue swim trunks. He is rigid, veins protruding against the taut skin. His fingers stroke his hard length, oozing pre-cum out of his head. I untie the white cover up for him. He leans down, stroking himself still while sucking on my nipple through my bikini top. His fingers brush my clit, rubbing gracious circles while I press against his hand.

“Want you inside of me.” I moan, tangling my fingers through his locks as he sucks my other nipple. His mouth opens wider, sucking so much of my flesh into his mouth until his teeth tighten into a gentle bite. My ohmygod is lost in the air of the room, stifled out by the lack of oxygen in my lungs from Nico’s touch. I reach my hand down, encircling his throbbing cock with him and stroking in rhythm together.

“Gonna cum on your stomach if we keep going.” He says, pulling away from my grasp to run his engorged head along my clit.

“We can’t have that. Need you to cum inside of me.”

“Lex, I did not think you had this in you.” He chuckles, poising at my entrance as he rests one hand on the bed by my head.

“Look what made me into, Nico Hischier.”

“I’m so lucky.” He says against my lips as he beings to move inside of me. The intensity of his entrance is dulled by the sweetness of his lips on mine. He consumes my moans. “Gonna have the best mama for my baby.” I reach for the hem of his shirt, shoving it up his abdomen and trying to get it off his head.

“Help.” I am desperate to touch his bare skin. He pauses inside of me, taking his shirt off and knocking his hat off too. I bite my lip as he comes down to kiss me again. His hand shoves my bikini top up my breasts to expose them.

“I love your tits. I hope they get bigger.”

“They will.” I moan. “And then you can’t have them.”

“Fuck. That’s gonna be tough.” He works himself deeper into me, watching my face for my head to do… that. It falls to the side as my face scrunches up in need. “Need your help to cum, sweets.”

“Don’t stop…” I whisper as my hand falls to my clit, rubbing in sync with his thrusting. “Nico.”

“I love you, baby. Come for me.”

His words make the ache explode into white hot heat in my core. My legs shake against his sides where he has my knees pressed back. His hands come up, shoving my thighs into my stomach as he fucks himself deep. I reach down, gripping his shaft and stroking forward as he releases cum inside of me. Nico squeeze my hand as we pull more out of him, bucking his hips with a wide open, gasping mouth. He exhales sharply, gently easing out, still dribbling a bit from his tip.

“I love you too.” I finally say, panting in unison with him as my hands grip both his forearms. His hands hold my hips in place as he works towards recover.

Nico crawls onto the bed with me, laying beside me as his right hand covers my belly. I hold his hand there, all three of them rising and falling with my fast breathing. We stare at the ceiling together. Nico’s thumb begins to trace over my skin. I feel emotional tears pinching at my eyes. Nico and I are trying. This is real. We are going to make a baby. Our baby.

“I want this with you so bad, Neeks. That wasn’t just talk.”

“I know. I do too.” He assures, rolling to his side and kissing my shoulder. I turn my face to him so he can kiss my lips. “We should do that a few more times.”

“Yeah. Like at least nine before we leave.” Nico grins.

“Let’s make it 12 for lucky 13 total.” I laugh as he strokes his fingers along my belly again. “I’m going to spoil you.”

“You already do.”

“Get ready. It’s going to be even more.”

Nico’s phone begins to ring in the pool bag. He tucks himself back into his shorts, then goes to grab it.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Timo’s voice comes through the speaker. Nico makes eye contact with me and we share a silent laugh.

“Sorry, we fell back asleep.”

“Hurry up, Lio is crabby because he wants Uncle Ni snuggles.”

“Okay. Five minutes. We’ll be back at the pool.”

He clicks the end button, stuffing his phone into his swim trunks.

“Uncle Ni gonna be Daddy Ni.” I grin, grabbing my swimsuit bottoms from the TV corner and sliding them on. Nico closes his eyes, shoulders drawn down while his hands go to cover his lap. “Did daddy get you?”

“Yeah.”

“Nico Hischier, my baby daddy.” I sing-song as I dance across the room to him. He pulls me into his arms as I go on my tip toes to kiss him. He helps me retie my bathing suit top on and close my cover up. His fingers splay out on my ribs as he looks down at me when we are done re-dressing together.

“Today is another moment in my life I couldn’t imagine not having you a part of.” I soften, melting into his body at his sweet words. “No one else I want to do this with but you.”

Life with Nico is an unbelievable dream. Nobody wake me.

#what my world spins around au #nico hischier fic #nhl fan fiction #hockey writing #my writing #hockey fan fiction #writing request

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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Eren Yeager x f!reader x Zeke Yeager [ SYNOPSIS ] Just a normal, romantic getaway with your husband, Eren… and his half-brother 🙄 [ WORD COUNT ] 4.2k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, alcohol, dubcon (Zeke’s definitely intoxicated while he watches you fuck Eren), sexual tension, voyeurism, exhibitionism, nipple play, fingering, masturbation (m), oral sex (f receiving), ass play is brought up but doesn’t happen (sorry), cum play, thick Yeager dick, creampie, Eren and Zeke are both sarcastic little shits, pet names (babe, princess), this fic is where plot comes to die, not beta’d so enjoy the mistakes.

You dug your toes into the sand while your lower body lay baking in the sun, the rest of you safe under a large, white umbrella. Your skin was smothered in sunscreen so you were in the midst of pristine relaxation. The rays weren’t harsh. They were kinder, softer, almost like each UV was a kiss rather than a death sentence. You wriggled a little, feeling the cool cotton of your beach blanket against your warm legs. You pointed your toes and stretched, letting out a pleased sigh.

“We needed this,” Eren piped up.

The two of you hadn’t been on any form of vacation since your honeymoon.

“You’re telling me,” you said, sitting up. “Where’s your brother?”

“Probably getting a third round of margaritas.”

You pulled your sunglasses off and squinted as your eyes adjusted to the brightness of the day. It was barely noon and Zeke was already drunk. He smelled like salt, lime, and cigarettes. And his cheeks were a faded pink, the remnants of a terrible sunburn he was cursed with on the first day. You and Eren on the other hand were well acquainted with sunscreen.

“We didn’t even have breakfast. He’s going to be a disaster in a few hours.”

Eren brushed you off. “It’s fine. Let him have fun. I rarely see him let go like this.”

“He gets so clingy though.”

Eren got up out of his beach chair and snuggled up next to you. You ran your fingers through his sun warmed hair.

“You should be honored,” he laughed. “He’s only like that with me usually.”

It wasn’t the answer you wanted. You were hoping your husband too felt that his brother was being rather friendly with you. Eren’s distaste was supposed to fuel your own, kill the little part of you that lived for Zeke’s attention. He was always purring bawdy compliments, buying you everything you wanted, and finding ways to put his hands on you. You doubted that Eren experienced any of those acts.

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

He took off his tortoiseshell Wayfarers and gave you a concerned look.

“Uh, should I?”

You went to speak but got interrupted by the drunkard himself.

“Shit, sorry, kiddo,” Zeke slurred as he trampled a child’s sand castle. “Tha—the pleasure you felt from building that was fleeting, it wasn’t gonna last. I did you a favor.”

“Nice job,” Eren called out.

Zeke cautiously made his way over, juggling three margaritas.

“Here!” He said a little too loudly, handing off one of the drinks to his brother. “Ah, and here’s your pretentious one with mezcal and key lime.”

You snatched the drink out of his hand and took a quick sip. It tasted perfect, absolutely divine.

“Does it even taste any different or are you just difficult? I don’t care either way,” he said, mumbling the second sentence.

“Try it,” you said, handing it back to him.

Zeke took it and ended up gulping the rest of it down. The only thing you could do was roll your eyes.

“That was terrible,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nauseating even.”

“Then why did you drink the whole thing?” Eren asked.

Zeke turned his attention towards his brother.

“Do I look like a man with answers?”

Eren gave his brother an exasperated sigh and stood up, patting himself down in search of his wallet.

“I’ll go get you a new one, babe,” he said before setting off to the bar.

“You want this one?”

Zeke held out what was supposed to be his drink.

“Fuck it,” you said, accepting his peace offering.

He collapsed down next to you where Eren had once been. He rested his head on your shoulder and let out a deep sigh. His hair was even more tousled than usual from the sea salt. Zeke spent every morning languishing in the ocean, convinced it helped with his hangovers.

“You mind if I—”

“Go ahead.”

Zeke felt around for his cigarette case which had since been buried in the sand. He brushed it off and flipped it open, pulling out one of his expensive cigarettes. He placed it between his lips and lit it, taking a deep puff. He held the smoke in his lungs before it trailed out of his mouth.

“So, you guys fuck yet?” He said, enveloping you both in an earthy cloud of smoke.

“Zeke!”

“What? Am I not privy to that information?”

“Yeah! It’s none of your business.”

“You haven’t, have you? We’ve been here for five days and he hasn’t buried his face in your pussy?”

“Zeke!!”

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. You couldn’t lie; you were slightly disappointed you and Eren had yet to fuck. But Zeke didn’t need to be the person to point it out. Especially in such a vulgar way. You studied his drunken visage, pained to see he still managed to be handsome while embodying the definition of a hot mess. You wanted to know what his beard would feel like tickling your thighs, how it would feel up against your clit.

“If I were him,” he said, ashing his cigarettes. “I wouldn’t even be at the beach. I’d have you back at the suite, ass up.”

“Ass up, huh?”

He let out a drunken giggle. “Ha. Yeah. Does Eren ever eat your ass?”

“No, but it’s not like I’ve ever asked him to.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that,” you said, nudging him with your elbow.

“He wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Lemme guess. You would though, right? You’re the tsar of ass eating?”

His hand found its way to your thigh and gave it a little squeeze.

“I’m honored you think I’d be an expert. And you’re not exactly wrong.” He dug his fingers into the flesh of your thigh. “But you wouldn’t be able to handle me. I’d ruin you. I’d take everything from you and leave you a cum covered slu—”

“I’m back!” Eren shouted, holding your freshly made margarita.

You swatted away Zeke’s hand before plastering a hideous grin on your face for your husband. Eren looked mildly disturbed by your unhinged attempt at maintaining composure. You couldn’t utter a single word, frozen with anxious guilt.

“Here you go, babe.”

You took the drink from him and nervously took a sip. Both of you turned your attention to Zeke who was paying absolutely no attention.

“Hungry,” he muttered absentmindedly, his eyes hidden behind a pair of prescription sunglasses.

“We should probably eat,” you said, sipping your margarita.

The smokiness of the mezcal calmed your nerves, speaking was no trouble now.

“What’re you thinking?” Eren asked.

“What if we g—”

Zeke interrupted you with a half-hearted utterance of “taco.”

“Taco?”

Zeke snickered. “Yeah, just one.”

Eren ruffled his brother’s hair. “You need to go dry out.”

“Oh c’mon. I’ll be good.”

“Zeke,” he rebuked.

“Who knows what trouble I’ll get into by my lonesome?”

Eren rolled his eyes and he asked you to assist him in carting his towheaded brother back to the hotel. It was harder than you could have imagined. Zeke was like a limp noodle, a cascade of long, unruly limbs. It wasn’t a far walk by any means, but walking in the sand with a cumbersome man made it feel like a perilous journey into the unknown.

Once Zeke was settled in his room, tucking him in the bed like he was a little boy at his request, you and Eren had a relaxing lunch on your room’s balcony. The view of the crystalline sea was breathtaking, the water a brilliant shade of turquoise.

“How long you think he’ll be down for?” You pondered, pushing your empty plate to the side.

“Hours hopefully. It’ll give us time to, you know… Because we haven’t yet.”

“You can just say it,” you laughed, resting your feet on the railing of the balcony. “We haven’t fucked yet. It’s about time.”

Eren groaned and tossed a grape tomato in his mouth. “It’s so hard to find the right moment,” he garbled before swallowing. “And I’d feel like an asshole if I told him to go away. He doesn’t have anyone else to be around.”

“I honestly didn’t think he’d come after he broke up with Levi considering it’s a couples trip.”

“Me too. But there’s no way I could have told him he couldn’t come. Not after he got cheated on,” he replied, spearing a few melon balls with his fork.

Eren had a point. Excluding Zeke would have been needlessly cruel. He didn’t deserve that; it’d be the equivalent of punting a puppy off a cliff. You kicked Eren’s shin under the table.

“Shall we make use of this alone time?”

“No, let’s waste it,” he replied, voice dripping with succulent sarcasm.

He stood up and plucked you out of your chair and led you through the patio door. He slid the door open with a level of sexiness you honestly didn’t think was possible for such a benign act. You couldn’t wait to get him in bed, to feel the warmth of his Herculean body against yours. You craved his touch, longing for his nimble fingers and heavy palms. Eren turned to face you and beckoned you with his embrace. Into his arms you went without a second thought. He placed his hands on the small of your back and held you close, pressing his erection up against you. His green eyes were exuding lust, like the darkest depths of an evergreen forest.

“Can’t wait to fuck that tight pussy,” he murmured before kissing you.

As his soft lips brushed up against yours you felt yourself melting in his arms. Your knees couldn’t have been weaker, more useless. Luckily Eren’s muscled arms were enough to keep you upright. He slid his tongue into your mouth and you tasted a lingering hint of honeydew. His kiss ripe with hunger, a desperate need to devour you, to keep you all to himself. You cradled his face in your hands, rubbing your thumb along jaw. Little hairs pricked your fingers. You had forgotten his vow to not shave while on vacation.

Eren carried you to the bed, gently laying you down. He got on top of you and began to grope you. His hands wandered under your shirt and he pinched your nipples. A weakened whine emanated from your throat as he resumed kissing you. Eren couldn’t help but smile. You were so cute. His hand wandered under your shorts and dragged his fingers against your clit over your cotton panties.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he said, breath hot against your ear.

He applied more pressure to your clothed clit and caught your ear lobe between his teeth.

“Is my pretty girl ready for me?”

“Ye—”

Before you could give Eren an enthusiastic yes Zeke burst through the door. Eren quickly rolled off of you onto the floor, leaving you completely defenseless. You thanked your lucky stars you hadn’t taken off any of your clothes.

“Am I interrupting something?” He yawned.

“Yes,” Eren said, standing up.

Eren took a seat on the bed and rubbed his knee. The two of you glared at Zeke. His glasses were crooked; you suspected he napped with them on. His hair had managed to part itself on the side which you had to admit wasn’t exactly a bad look.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you… gonna leave?” Eren asked expectantly.

Zeke hung his head and sighed heavily. “I’m bored. Can’t I stay?”

“I’m trying to fuck my wife.”

“I’ll just watch! I won’t even say anything. I’ll be silent.”

Eren groaned. “No. That would be even worse than you giving color commentary.”

“Fine. I’ll be quiet, but not too quiet! Maybe I’ll make a little noise, but keep it at a dull roar.”

“Zeke, get out,” Eren said, pointing at the ajar door.

Zeke walked towards it and shut it with little grace or tact. Eren let out another dramatic groan. The blonde turned his attention towards you.

“You wouldn’t mind, right?” He asked. “I know you have a little crush on me.”

“I do not!”

“Yeah, you do,” Eren laughed.

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. You wanted to crash through the patio door and dive into the ocean, never to be seen again. Eren nudged you with his elbow.

“It’s fine. I think it’s kinda cute in a weird way.”

“So can I watch or what?”

“Zeke!” You and Eren hissed in unison.

“Someone told me that being open about your intentions fosters a greater sense of familial bonding.”

“Who told you that?” You asked with genuine interest.

Eren sighed. “No one told him that. That barely even made sense.”

“I wanna know,” you said under your breath. “Zeke, who told you that?”

“I did.”

You groaned. Eren served you a smug smile.

“Told ya.”

“Okay, okay. Regardless of who did or didn’t tell me something I made up… Can I watch? Please?”

Eren lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him. You could tell he had some interest in letting his brother watch the two of you fuck like animals.

“You down?”

“Are you?” You replied.

“I am, if you are.”

You and Eren stared at each other in nervous silence. It was as if you were playing a game of chicken. You wanted to believe he’d break first and express his enthusiasm for Zeke’s suggestion.

“Okay it sounds like you’re both down. Now let’s get down to business.” Zeke said, voice dripping with impatience.

“Are you still drunk?” Eren asked as he pulled off his shirt.

Zeke grabbed one of the plush chairs and dragged it beside the bed.

“Maybe,” he said, taking a seat. “It’s not as if we were apart very long.”

He had a point. It had only been an hour since you tucked the big, blonde baby in.

“If it’ll put you both at ease, I am not as drunk as I was previously.”

“Good enough for me,” Eren said, shrugging.

Zeke beamed.

The blonde looked you dead in the eye. “Alright, take your clothes off.”

Eren was already nude, his clothing a heap on the floor. Both of them had their eyes glued to you. You could tell they wanted to tear you apart, show you no mercy. Your breath hitched at the mere thought. Zeke pulled on the length of his cock as it fought against his impossibly tight, black swim briefs. Eren pulled at the straps of your tank top, pressing his lips to your lower neck. He pawed at your breast, flicking your nipple through the thin fabric that covered them.

“Eren…” You protested in a tiny voice.

“C’mon, babe. Don’t act like you’re not into having that freak—”

“Hey,” Zeke interrupted, the word drenched in dejection.

Eren ignored his brother’s saddened expulsion and lifted your tank top over your head, revealing your breasts. He bit your nipple, gently applying pressure. You winced and choked back a pathetic yelp.

“On your back,” he said, breath hot against your breast.

You leaned back and waited patiently as Eren pulled your shorts down. He palmed your cunt feeling the wetness that had seeped through your underwear.

“Is she wet?” Zeke slurred as he pulled his cock out.

Eren turned his head towards his brother and served him a perturbed look.

“No, she’s dry.”

“Like a desert,” you tacked on.

“Oh, fuck you guys,” Zeke said, slumping deeper into the chair.

You ran your fingers over the shaved part of Eren’s undercut. His eyes shut and he hummed happily. You could have sworn he was purring.

“You gonna get me naked or what?” You teased.

Eren smiled and peeled off your soaked underwear.

“Gimme,” Zeke said, holding his hand out.

Eren rolled his eyes and handed your underwear to him. He wrapped them around his hand and began to stroke his cock. It was a simple gesture, but Zeke managed to make it unbelievably depraved. You gazed at his cock and let your eyes linger on his glistening tip. He caught you staring and snickered.

“Pay attention to your husband.”

“I am!”

Eren parted your folds and slid his middle and index fingers inside you. He had your full attention now. Your breath hitched as he curled them upward, pressing up against your walls.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” Eren growled, stating the absolute obvious.

He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked the fluids off of them. He guided his cock into your cunt, teasingly and slowly. He prodded it with his cocktip, slick with precum.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

Zeke’s voice cut through the room. “Then get to it!”

You stared up at Eren, doe-eyed and pathetic. You needed his cock inside you, to feel it throb as it filled you with cum.

“Eren,” you whined. “I need it.”

“Aw, did you hear her? She needs it.”

“Of course I heard her! I’m literally on top of her!”

Zeke frowned and resumed jerking off with your underwear. You grabbed Eren’s ass and pulled him closer to your body. His cock slid further in you, stretching your cunt. You gritted your teeth and held back a pained groan. Eren stroked your face with the tips of his fingers.

“You’re a big girl, aren’t you? I know you can take it,” he cooed.

“Shit. How big is your cock? Maybe you should be more gentle,” Zeke suggested.

Eren shut his eyes tight, nostrils flared.

“Did I ask for your advice?”

“... No. But look at her.”

“I am lookin’ at her!”

Zeke lowered his glasses with his free hand. “Bu—but are you really looking at her?”

You giggled. You didn’t think Eren would bicker with his brother while he was fucking you. And you didn’t think Zeke’s brain would stop functioning as his cock leaked a steady drip of precum. You knew the blonde was a bit of a disaster after several margaritas. You had witnessed him spend most of the trip laughing loudly at vaguely humorous jokes, binge drinking, flirting, and petting every stray cat that crossed his path.

“So dumb,” you murmured in Eren’s ear.

“He’s not dumb,” Eren replied audibly as he began to thrust.

“Did you call me dumb?”

“N—no,” you lied through your teeth. “I’d never say something like th—that.”

Eren moaned as he drove his cock further inside you. He held you down by the neck and his green gaze penetrated your doe-eyed expression. He licked lips, looking at you as if you were prey. He forced the full length of his cock in you, the tip just barely grazing your cervix. It was enough to elicit a subdued “ow”. Eren pulled out, teasing your folds with his tip, before slamming it back into you. His balls slapped up against you as he bottomed out.

“C’mon on, princess. I know you and your pretty pussy can take it.”

His words were so sweet but his actions were anything but. You turned your attention to Zeke who was palming the tip of his cock. His hand was still wrapped up in your underwear.

“Is she tight?” Zeke rasped.

“Oh f—fuuuuck yeah,” he moaned as he thrusted his throbbing cock into your weeping cunt.

Your fluids had dripped down your folds and started to collect near your ass. Your slick covered every inch.

“Not to be vulgar, but I want to tonguefuck her ass so bad.”

“Maybe if you're lucky y—yo—fuck!–your brother will let you cl–clean me up,” you said as Eren fucked your body into the mattress.

“If he knows what’s good for him, he will. I know where the embarrassing baby pictures are stowed away.”

Eren didn’t seem to register Zeke’s petty threat, or perhaps he didn’t care at all. He was too caught up in how tight your precious cunt felt around his engorged cock. With his hand still on your neck, he used his free one to pay attention to your throbbing clit. One swift flick of his thumb was enough to make you whimper pathetically. He encircled it and used your slick to glide around your clit.

“You want more?”

You barely nodded in response to Eren’s before he began to pick up the pace, rutting against you with an animalistic fervor. You managed to hear Zeke mutter “holy shit” as Eren fucked you like a dog. You looked over at the blonde. He was watching you two intently, one hand gripping his cock and the other stroking his chest. His cheeks were flushed and his eyebrows knitted in ecstatic agony. He caught you staring and gave you a boyish grin. It gave you butterflies. You nearly drooled at the sight of Zeke’s pearlescent cum spurt from his engorged cock, the tip pink with pleasure.

Eren quickly grabbed your face and squeezed your cheeks. “Stop watching him.”

“Don’t be mean,” Zeke chastised. “Look at me; can you blame her?”

Eren ignored his brother.

“You’re not looking at me, Eren.”

“I’m close,” Eren choked out. “I don’t wanna see your stupid, bearded face when I come.”

Zeke laughed. “Coward.”

Eren clenched his jaw and bucked his hips as his cock shot a steady stream of cum into your cunt. Even in the throes of pleasure, Eren never once stopped rubbing your clit. If anything he did so with more intent, more enthusiasm. Your body went limp. You felt like you were sinking into the mattress which likely had to do with the fact your husband was essentially fucking you into it. Warmth crawled up your thighs gradually flooding your core. You could have sworn you were seeing stars or maybe even god.

“That’s it, princess. Come all over my cock,” Eren beckoned.

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Every nerve ending in your body was singing, crying out in a rhapsody of pleasure. You couldn’t even speak, though it’s not as if words could accurately embody the ecstasy that barrelled through you. All you could do was choke out breathy moans and the occasional pitchy whine. Eren’s thrusts weakened. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, lightly sucking on your bottom lip.

“Shit,” you murmured.

Eren rubbed his nose against yours.

“Did you like that?” He asked knowing full well you did.

You smiled and nodded. “As always.”

“You guys are gross.”

You and Eren turned to glare at Zeke.

“You realize you can leave at any time,” Eren growled.

“But I wanted to see how much of a mess you made.”

Eren slid his cock out of you. Zeke got up and they both admired your glistening cunt, slick with cum.

“Good job,” the blonde said, patting Eren on the shoulder.

“Please tell me that’s not the hand you jerked off with.”

“It is, but I had it wrapped in underwear so… It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Eren silently seethed and stood up, walking into the bathroom. Zeke sat down on the bed and ruffled your hair. You were impressed with how casual he was behaving under such circumstances. It was as if you weren’t lying on the bed naked as the day you were born.

“You seemed to enjoy that,” you teased.

“I actually hated every moment of it. You’re both sick,” he replied, smiling. He sighed and eyed your cunt. “You think he’d actually let me clean you up.”

Zeke’s hand found its way to your thigh. Just as his fingers went to stroke the inside of it you crossed your legs, denying him the opportunity.

“No, no. Not before you ask your brother for permission.”

“He won’t mind.”

“What is it they say about assuming? Something about making an ass out of you and me?”

He rolled his eyes and got off the mattress, heading towards the bathroom. He pathetically pawed at the door.

“Ereeeen, can I—”

“No.”

“I just wa—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Can I finish my s—”

“Why would I let you do that?”

“All I want to do is suck cum out of your wife!” Zeke said quickly.

There was a pregnant pause. It was broken by Eren slowly opening the door.

“Fine,” Eren relented as he stepped out.

The brother joined you on the bed. Eren curled up next to you, resting his head on your chest. Zeke parted your legs and stuck his head between them. His beard tickled the tender skin of your thighs. Zeke ran his tongue along your folds, parting them with the tip of it. It slid in between your labia and lapped up your and Eren’s cum.

“So eager,” you groaned, running your fingers through the blonde’s soft hair.

“Desperate,” Eren scoffed.

Zeke happily hummed, seemingly unaware of Eren’s playful derision. The vulgar sounds of him slurping at your cunt filled the room. You watched as Zeke rutted against the mattress. His nose grazed your clit, sending a brief jolt of bliss to your core.

“Can you not rub your dick all over the sheets?”

“Let him be,” you sighed as you were blessed with a second, more subdued orgasm.

Once your cunt was thoroughly cleaned Zeke curled up next to your unoccupied side. He took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand. He let out a hearty yawn before falling asleep with his head on your breast. His breathing tickled your nipple.

“I think he has the right idea,” Eren said, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion.

“Seriously? I’m not even sleepy. Can I at least get up while you babies have nap time?”

You waited for a response from Eren but it never came.

#eren yeager x reader #zeke yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #eren yeager smut #zeke yeager smut #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyojin smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk smut #aot smut #x reader #reader insert #.fics #.aot #.eren #.zeke

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nicecurves · 1 month

Text

#margarita blanket #vladimir nabokov #bf #standing #kneebent #soles

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vhagarlovebot · 1 year

Note

Hiii <3 idek if your taking new requests but modern aemond comforting partner that had plans with friends and they got cancelled or weren’t invited (smth like that #socialissuesfr) and he just makes them feel better i need it 🩷🩷

“do you want to order pizza for dinner?” aemond looks at you from his spot on the couch, but you’re too focused looking at something on your phone to pay attention to him. “i’m talking to you, love. are you listening?”

“yes,” you say, still looking at your phone. “whatever you want.” aemond senses that something is wrong and gets up immediately. one minute you’re doing margaritas, the next, there’s tears in your eyes.

“are you alright?” he places a hand on your back, looking down at your phone. his heart falls to the floor when he sees an instagram story from one of your friends, she’s having dinner with a lot of people—your friends. the following story isn’t better and once the third one appears, he takes your phone away.

aemond can’t believe what his eyes just saw. he checks the group chat he knows you have with your friends but there’s not a single message, which means they have a different group chat or they just didn’t want to invite you; either way what they did is horrible.

when a tear runs down your cheek and falls, aemond is quick to cup your face and wipe the ones that follow.

“look at me,” you do what he says, vision blurry for all the tears that threaten to fall. “they just showed you the kind of people they are and you don’t need them, you hear me? they don’t deserve you.” you know his words are supposed to make you feel better but the pain in your heart doesn’t let you see how right he is.

you sob, hiding your face on his chest and clinging onto his shirt. his arms around your body make you feel a little bit better after a while, his soft words in your ear too.

“you still have people who care about you and value your friendship. and they love you as much as i love you.” he kisses your forehead, pulling away to look you in the eyes. “forget about them, we can have fun too.”

aemond drags you to the couch, forcing you to sit down while he disappears in the bedroom. you look confused at the door until he shows up again, this time your favorite blanket and his phone in hand.

“you order whatever you want to eat while i go look for something, okay?” he says as he covers you with the blanket, disappearing before you can say anything.

you don’t move, confused and amused with his attitude, until he’s back and sitting next to you.

“i tried to read the instructions but i’m useless so i just brought all the face masks i found in the bathroom.” his excitement softens your heart, a whole new set of tears threatening to pour out, but this time for different a reason. “would you help me put this on my face?”

“yes,” you smile, moving closer to him and cupping his face, his confused expression is the last thing you see before taking his lips with yours in a gentle kiss. “thank you.” you whisper, forehead resting against his.

“don’t thank me just yet,” he gives a quick peck to your lips before pulling away and taking the remote to find a movie. “because i’m going to make you watch all my favorite horror movies.”

“i have no problem as long as you are by my side.”

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#modern!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x reader #hotd imagine

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Note

Hi baby! Congratulations on your amazing milestone! I’d like to order a margarita with Frank Castle and the song ‘cinnamon girl’ by Lana del Rey, specifically the quote: “there’s things I wanna say to you but I’ll just let you live, If you hold me without hurting me you’ll be the first who ever did”.

It’d be very self indulgent as I just got out of an extremely abusive relationship with my ex bf and i just moved to the other side of the country and I feel like frank would be so soft spoken and careful when holding me after everything I’ve been through 💗

my sweet angel,

firstly I want to say that I am so proud of you. it takes a lot of bravery and strength to do what you did, and I am so happy that you made it out of that situation. secondly, I want you to know there is nothing that you ever said or did that would warrant/excuse that kind of treatment. and finally, I want you to know that I feel very special that you trusted me with this. that means so much to me, and I hope I did you justice.

I didn't go too heavy into detail in terms of the bad things, and tried to keep it more light and fluffy for you.

please know this community is your safe space, and we are all behind you and rooting for you and supporting you. thank you again for trusting me, and I hope you enjoy my darling. huge fucking cheers to you. 🥂💗

blurb below the cut

cinnamon girl

if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did

Frank Castle was a very large, intimidating man. He was tall, built like a brick wall, and it didn’t help that his features were always fixed in a broody and unapproachable expression. He could be violent and cold, speak with a wicked and harsh tongue, and tear through things in his path with his bare hands.

But he was always delicate with you. His eyes were softer, and seemed to lighten to a warmer shade of brown when he looked at you. His full lips parted into a smile when you were in his presence, and your favorite were his grins that split his mouth wide open to show off his dazzling teeth. The soft crinkles it created by his eyes and the way his eyes shrank from the rise of his cheeks past the bridge of his large nose made him look gentler, and younger even. His laughter was deep and melodic as it bellowed in his chest, echoing in your ears like a lullaby. His touch was exceptionally kind, and his tone was tender as the deep bass of his voice weaved around you like a warm blanket. He never moved too quickly into your space, and he continually asked for consent until he learned to read your nonverbal cues.

Frank made you feel safe. The safest you had ever felt. You knew that he would rather die a thousand times over than ever say an unkind word to you, or lay a hand on you in a way that was anything other than affectionate.

You knew that.

But the two of you were arguing over something trivial, and his voice had been steadily increasing in volume, and loud noises had always made you anxious, but loud and angry men always sent you into fight or flight. He wasn’t yelling, but his deep voice seemed to boom like resentful claps of thunder in the space of the living room. The amplification already had your hands trembling with subconscious fear, but it was when he threw his hands up in exasperation that you really started to spiral.

It was just a simple gesture. It wasn’t directed at you. He wasn’t even close enough to touch you, even if he stretched his arms out wide. But still, you flinched.

And suddenly it was silent.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heart pounding in your chest and your breaths struggling to escape out of your lungs. You hadn’t noticed your vision had gone black until you felt the strain behind your eyelids, opening your eyes slowly until a very horrified Frank came into view. He appeared to be frozen in place, his hands still raised in midair, and when he caught your gaze on them, he immediately dropped them and took a few steps backwards.

For what felt like an eternity, the two of you just stared at each other. The confusion and terror was evident on Frank’s face, and you couldn’t imagine what your own looked like. Your mind and heart were at war on the next move. Part of you wanted to run, but you couldn’t move your feet. The other part wanted to reach out for the safety net of Frank’s arms. It was getting increasingly harder for you to breathe as you felt the familiar onset of hyperventilation, and you instantly kicked into survivor mode, repeating a mantra that came second nature to you.

“I…I”m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t…mean to…I’m sorry. Please don’t…I’m sorry-”

“Hey…hey, you ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. Didn’t do anythin’ wrong, sweetheart. Just breathe for me, can ya do that?”

The sting of tears warmed your lower lash line, and your face twisted up in regret and lingering fear as you stared over at Frank. The look on his face hurt worse than anything anyone else had ever done to you before.

“I’m so sorry-”

“Baby, please stop apologizin’. Please? Can I…alright if I come closer?”

Frank kept his tone gentle and his voice quiet as he looked at you in pity and concern. You quickly nodded your head as you clenched your fists tightly at your sides, reminding yourself that this was Frank. This was different. He wasn’t going to hurt you. He very slowly lifted his hands up in a sign of surrender, taking careful and languid steps towards you.

“Tell me what you need from me. What can I do to help, baby?”

“I…I don’t…I don’t know, I’m sorry-”

“Hey, s’alright. Can I touch you? That okay?”

Even though you nodded your head frantically, Frank still took his time approaching you, carefully wrapping his arms around you to pull you into the haven of his chest. You gripped onto his back, digging your nails into his skin through the material of his shirt as you cried into his chest. He pressed light kisses to the top of your head, rocking you gently in his arms and shushing you quietly.

When you finally calmed down, Frank delicately held your face in his large hand, staring down into your eyes with a storm of emotions swirling in his. He opened his mouth several times to speak, his dark brows furrowing as he struggled with where to start.

“You…don’t gotta tell me anythin’ you ain’t comfortable sharin’. But…I gotta…did you…did you really think I was gonna hit you?”

The hurt in Frank’s voice only lined your eyes with fresh tears as you gripped onto his arm tightly.

“No..no Frank, I-I just…we were arguing and…you started getting loud…and when you raised your hands-I know you wouldn’t. I know that. It just…”

Frank’s jaw clenched as he stared down at you, and his eyes darkened with unbridled rage.

“Made you think ‘bout someone that hurt you before.”

There was an edge to his voice, but it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You could tell by his features that he was absolutely pissed. There was a murderous fury burning in his eyes that would’ve sent a shiver down the spine of the person brave enough to meet his gaze, and his hands shook with pure contained wrath as he held you in his arms.

But you didn’t feel afraid. Because Frank’s anger wasn’t directed at you, it was for you.

It was such a strange and euphoric feeling, being in the presence of an angry man and not feeling fear. Knowing that those strong and capable hands of his would be used to defend you, not against you.

“It…it’s why I moved here. To get away.”

Frank squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling a sharp breath that he let out in a slow and frustrated exhale, grunting under his breath.

“Fuckin’ worthless piece of shit.”

“I…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, I just…it’s hard to talk about-”

“Hey, you ain’t gotta explain yourself to me, alright? You ain’t do nothin’ wrong. You weren’t ready to tell me, that’s all. I…I appreciate you tellin’ me now. I’m sorry I made you feel that way-”

“No, no Frank, please. You didn’t. It…it was just a reaction, okay? I know you would never hurt me. I swear.”

Frank stared down into your eyes, searching them for any sign that you weren’t telling the truth. He finally let out a soft sigh, tightening his protective hold on your waist.

“Don’t s’pose you’d give me an address of where I can find this sorry fucker?”

“Frank-”

“Ain’t gonna kill him. Just think he needs his ass beat, s’all.”

You tried to fight the smirk that tugged at your lips as you arched one of your brows and gave him a pointed look. He let out a heavy exhale as he looked away and cocked his head to the side.

“Alright, that was a lie. I would fuckin’ kill him. But the world ain’t gonna miss an asshole like that. Be doin’ it a favor.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you brought your hands up to gently cup his face in your hands.

“I…appreciate that you would do that for me. But we’re better than that.”

“Well you may be, but I sure as hell ain’t.”

“Frank.”

“Fine. I’ll leave it alone, for now. But when you ask me what I want for my birthday or Christmas, don’t be surprised if this is my answer.”

Should you be concerned that your boyfriend threatened to kill your ex on your behalf? Yes. Were you? Absolutely not. Because it was Frank.

Your Frank.

And the safest place you could ever be was with him.

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle request #frank castle blurb #the punisher #the punisher request #the punisher blurb #court's 2k follower celebration #court's 2k friends celebration

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thoseboysinblue · 1 year

Text

Unbroken

Part 4

Christian Pulisic x reader, Enemies to Lovers

You are best friends with Christian’s childhood friend, however, you and Christian cannot seem to get along with one another.

Word count: 9500+

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swearing, angst throughout the entire series, 18+, minors DNI

Part 3

You make the short walk to the restaurant Christian had spoken about earlier. When you arrive, you are a bit surprised to find that it is a quaint and cozy restaurant, but the smells that are wafting out of the kitchen are mouthwatering.

Christian greets the owner, with a fist bump as they chat about recent Chelsea matches. "Your usual spot?" he asks, as Christian nods. He leads you to a small rounded booth in the corner, a bit more secluded and private than the tables near the center of the establishment.

"I know it's not the fanciest place, but I promise you the food is unreal" he smiles at you, reaching over to take your hand and scooting around so that the two of you are sitting closer to one another.

"You need to try the fresh margaritas" he smiles at you, "if you like margaritas, that is."

"Seems like you come here a lot, have your own booth and everything" you laugh quietly at him, "must be your secret place you bring all your girls."

He looks up at you, eyebrows drawn slightly together. "Shit, I just realized how jealous that makes me sound," you cringe slightly.

"Well, you are right, it is my secret place, but you are the only girl I've ever brought, I usually come here alone" he chuckles tapping the end of your nose with a tortilla chip.

"I'm sorry, it's really none of my business" you blush slightly.

"It's fine, you're cute when you are jealous" he grins at you.

"I'm not jealous" you say back to him, rolling your eyes.

"Mmmhmm, keep telling yourself that pretty girl" he chuckles as you feel your heart flutter at the term of endearment.

Your conversation moves on, both of you ordering your food, and enjoying the margaritas he suggested.

You leave the restaurant, feeling relaxed from the few drinks you've had, but far from drunk as you walk hand in hand back to Christian's.

"Would you like to watch a movie when we get back home?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah, I'd like that" you answer, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Good, I'm not quite ready to let you go yet," he smiles at you, kissing you on the cheek.

He lets you in the door, closing it behind you before pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss is gentle as you both pull each other closer. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck as he settles his hands softly on your waist. He deepens the kiss, swirling his tongue around yours, humming contentedly when you reciprocate and press your tongue gently against his before nipping softly at his bottom lip.

Giving your waist a gentle squeeze, he mumbles against your lips, "go put on something comfortable, I'll meet you at the top of the stairs in five." You nod, pecking him softly on the lips before turning to head up the stairs.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you back around to face him, "I don't care if it's five minutes or five weeks, I'm always going to need to kiss you one more time," he smiles before pressing a chaste, but heavy kiss to your lips. You giggle and shake your head at him, kissing him again, "I'll see you in five" you whisper and he nods, allowing you to head up the stairs.

You change quickly, putting on a T-shirt and leggings before stepping back out of your room watching him as he makes his way up the stairs, carrying a tray of snacks, including popcorn, a few types of chocolate candies and waters for each of you.

He leads you into his cinema room placing the snacks down on the ottoman before grabbing some blankets and the remote.

"So how do you feel about Harry Potter?" he asks sitting down in the corner of the large sectional sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him pulling you down to sit in front of him, your back pressed against his chest.

"I think you probably say you are a Gryffindor, but I'm not sure I'd believe you" you grin at him. "And what about you?" he asks, one eyebrow raised. "Well, I was sorted into Gryffindor according to the quiz I took when I was 11, but I'm pretty sure I'm a Hufflepuff" you shrug your shoulders against his chest. "Ahh, the patient and loyal ones" he grins as he settles his hands around your waist, "seems appropriate."

"You don't mind if we start a Harry Potter marathon then?" he asks you and you shake your head, "sounds perfect."

"Good, because if you said no, I think I would have to kick you out" he chuckles pressing a kiss to your temple.

He nudges you to sit up slightly so that he can grab the snacks and sit them on the couch next to him, and he hands you the popcorn bowl as you settle back against his chest.

You watch the movie for a bit, both of you grumbling over parts that don't line up with the books, and sharing snacks back and forth, him placing delicate kisses to your temple and cheek every now and then.

You move to readjust how you are sitting and Christian notices when you wince slightly. "You ok?" he whispers kissing the shell of your ear.

"Yeah, I think all those stairs from today are just starting to kick in," you laugh quietly. "Lean up for me" he says as he moves from behind you, giving you a quick kiss before disappearing for a few minutes.

He reappears holding a couple of muscle rollers in his hands, "good thing for you, I'm an expert at leg recovery" he winks as he plops down, pulling your legs over his lap.

He starts gently massaging your legs, using the rollers he has and you feel the tension leaving your body as you slowly relax under his touch.

At some point, you both realize that neither of you are watching the movie any longer, him being focused on your legs, you watching him mesmerized. He reaches for the remote and pauses it. You thank him with a whisper, letting him know your legs already feel better and he leans over and gives you a gentle and loving kiss.

He relaxes back onto the couch, pulling you close to him as he gently scratches your back in the silence. Your head is laying on his chest as you trace circles over his torso.

"Christian?" you say, barely above a whisper. "Hmm" he replies enjoying the quiet moment you are sharing.

"I've had a really nice day with you" you sigh turning your head to press a kiss to his chest. "I've had a nice day with you, too," he answers. "I'm sorry it's taken us this long to realize we can actually get along," he laughs quietly.

You nod against his chest, "Why do you think that is?"

He sits up, and pulls you up so that you are facing him, wanting to look at you while he's speaking.

"I was scared, y/n, I still am a bit, the thought of you terrifies me" he says his eyes burning into yours as you knit your eyebrows slightly confused. "The first time I met you, I felt like there was something pushing or pulling me to you and it scared me. So, I tried to ignore it, pretend it wasn't there, thinking it would go away. At the time, I knew I couldn't be involved with anyone. I wasn't in the right mindset, and had too much on my plate to really be able to give someone the attention they deserve. I knew if I ever got to know you, I'd be done for, so I didn't try, I thought it was better that way. But I regret the way I've acted towards you all these years, it hasn't been fair to you" he says, spilling everything he's been wanting to tell you for so long. "That night when I kissed you by the pool, I knew it was over for me, it felt like I'd found a piece of me I didn't know I was missing. Today has just shown me what I think I've known all along, I really enjoy being with you, and I hope you can feel that" he says with a shy smile playing on his lips.

You glance down at your hands, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat while he was speaking, and look back up to him taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, "Christian, today was better than I could've imagined and I know what you mean by telling me that you feel like something is pulling us together, because I feel it too. I've felt it since the first time I met you, even if I couldn't explain it. I'd be lying if I said that it didn't break me a little more each time I was around you and you ignored me or we fought. I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong to make you hate me so much."

"I'm sorry, I never hated you y/n" he interrupts you, voice barely above a whisper with sadness in his eyes.

"Just let me finish, please" you take another deep breath as he nods at you and takes your hand in his, pulling it up to his lips and placing a delicate kiss over your knuckles in a move so intimate that it sent a shiver down your spine.

"I understand now, why you acted the way you did, out of fear, because I did the same. I wasn't exactly nice to you either" you offer him a small smile. "I was scared too, I still am honestly, all of this scares me. I don't see how I can fit into this life of yours, I certainly won't live up to anyone's expectations of who you should be with. There is nothing special about me, I don't crave the attention you receive, and I'm certainly not like any of the girls I've noticed lining up for their shot with you. I just don't know that I can ever be enough for you, I'm not sure I can be the person you need me to be" you say to him, the thoughts you've been trying to put into words for so long flowing out of you as a stray tear rolls down your cheek.

He reaches his hand up to your face, cupping your jaw into his hand as he brushes the tear away with his thumb. He leans his face in close to yours and presses gentle kiss to your lips. He hums against your lips as you pull him closer, weaving your hands around the back of his neck as you kiss him again, pouring everything you can into it.

The sounds of your kisses fill the quiet room until you both pull away, breathless. "I've never been kissed the way you kiss me, I mean, it's never felt like this," you whisper against his lips as he rests his forehead against yours. He shakes his head slightly, whispering "me either" before placing another kiss to your lips.

"You're wrong though" he says, leaning back slightly and bringing a hand up to caress your cheek. You give him a puzzled look, "wrong about what?"

"You are special and you are absolutely enough for me, and one of the things I lo..like about you is that you aren't like those other girls. You are so much more. You've known me for years, and yet, you've never asked me for a single thing, you've always been respectful of my privacy, not once have you ever posted anything that even hinted at my presence, you have no idea what that means to me. You are beautiful and smart and funny and independent and everything I need and want." He smiles blushing slightly noticing that you are also blushing at his words.

You shake your head at him slightly as he chuckles and pulls you into his lap leaning back onto the couch cushions as you straddle him.

"God it feels so good to be able to say these things I've been wanting to say to you for so long," he whispers. "You know I always loved catching little glimpses of you when I was talking with Em" he says as he settles his hands over your hips, drawing circles with his thumbs. "You're incredible, you know that?" he asks as you lean forward just a bit, craving another kiss. "Hmmm, I'm not so sure, but if you keep telling me, I might start to believe you," you wink at him before pressing your lips to his.

He moans softly as you deepen the kiss, his grip on your hips tighten as you scratch lightly at the back of his neck with one hand, the other hand gripping his bicep. His hands move to trail up and down your back as he lowers his kisses along your jaw and neck. You let out a faint moan as you tilt your head backwards granting him more access as your hands find their way to his curls. He groans at the sensation and you can feel his bulge becoming more and more defined as you sit over him.

"Y/N" he whispers as you both pull away, your head spinning. "Look at me please" he begs as he uses his hands to tilt your face so that he can look into your eyes.

"I know this is all new, but we've known each other for a long time, and I think we both knew we'd end up here eventually, but I want to be yours and I want you to be mine. I know there is a lot that comes with being with me and you can take as much time as you need to think about it. I just needed to say it, because I know it won't be easy, but I want to try to make this work," he says as you nod quietly.

"Christian, I don't know what to say, exactly. I think I need some time to think about all of this" you whisper to him, noticing his expression drop just a bit.

"I should probably go to bed for now" you say quietly before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and standing up from his lap as he nods, chewing on the inside of his lip slightly. "Good night, Chris" you whisper as he answers you, wishing you a goodnight as he places a soft kiss to your knuckles, "I'll see you in the morning, y/n" he smiles at you, but it doesn't quiet reach his eyes.

You disappear out of the room and he throws his head back on the couch, running his hands over his face as he tries to collect his thoughts. "Fucking idiot, you should've kept your mouth shut, because now you've pushed her away" he mumbles to himself before he heads to his own room.

You retreat into your room, slipping into your pajamas, brushing your teeth and doing your skin care before you settle into the bed. Your mind racing from his proposition. You know he is right, you would've ended up here sooner or later, and it feels right being with him, but it is still extremely scary to you, the implications of what it would mean to be with him weighing on you.

As you are trying to will yourself to sleep, you hear a burst of giggles from down the hallway, "great," you think to yourself, "I get to listen to Ben and Emily go at it all night." After several minutes you decide you will never get any sleep with their antics going on down the hallway, so you slip out of bed, and make your way to Christian's room.

This feels so far out of your character that you almost stop yourself, but then something washes over you and you know, you want to be his, you want to face whatever it is that that means, and you finally admit to yourself that you just want to be with him and nothing else matters except for that.

You can see the soft glow of light from under the door so you know he must still be awake. You knock quietly, hearing him moving around in the room as he comes to the door. He pulls the door open and the sight of him makes your heart flutter in your chest as he stands in front of you wearing nothing but a loose pair of shorts hanging low over his hips.

"Hey, everything ok?" he looks you up and down, coughing quietly to distract himself from his own thoughts as you stand in his doorway in a cropped top and pair of barely there pajama shorts.

"Emily and Ben are here and I can, um, I can hear things" you stutter as he pulls you into his room, kissing you on the forehead and shutting the door.

You wrap your arms around his torso as he settles his arms over your shoulders. You can hear his heart hammering away in his chest and you know, this is exactly where you belong, here, with him.

"You can stay in here if you want to" he says quietly as you nod your head against his chest. "But I'm not sure I'm going to be able to keep my hands off of you" he whispers into your ear, placing a kiss just below it.

You shudder at his actions, before tilting your head up to catch his eyes, a sudden boost of confidence taking over you, "What if I don't want you to keep your hands off of me?" you smirk, seeing his expression change.

He kisses you hungrily, both of you skimming your hands over each others bodies, craving more and more of the electricity that is flowing through your skin. He picks you up as you wrap your legs around his waist and makes his way back over to the bed. He settles both of you on the bed, never breaking this kiss.

He pulls away from you for a few seconds to grab what looks like a journal from his bed and place it on his nightstand before settling back between your legs, his body hovering over yours as he takes in your features. "God, you're so beautiful" he whispers, noticing a slight blush creep onto your cheeks.

He leans down, placing feather light kisses over your cheeks, eyes, and nose before bumping his nose with yours and kissing you softly. "We don't have to do anything, y/n, I know you said you need time to think."

"I've spent my entire life thinking, and overthinking, I don't need to think about this, I'm following my heart, I want you, I want this, I want us, and I want you to make me yours," you answer him honestly, chewing on the inside of your lip a bit nervously as you look into his eyes.

"Really?" He gives you an excited smile, "you want to give this a shot?" as you nod at him, a smile creeping over your face.

"I promise you won't regret it, I'll make sure you don't regret it" he grins back at you, pressing a kiss to your lips. "I'm going to hold you to that" you giggle back at him as he peppers kisses along your jaw.

His lips capture yours in a hungry kiss as you scratch your nails into the back of his hair pulling a soft groan from him. His tongue swirls around yours as you both deepen the kiss and become more and more needy for one another. As he drops kiss along your neck, you get his attention, "Babe?", "hmm?" he smirks against your neck at the pet name.

"You need to know something," yow whisper as he brings himself back up to look you in the eyes. "I might not be very good at this," you say as your cheeks flush bright pink. "Why would you think that?" he questions you, slight confusion flashing in his eyes.

"My ex, he said I wasn't very good, and that's why he cheated on me," you say, slightly embarrassed to be having this conversation. Christian scoffs, "Let me ask you something. Did he always finish?" He asks, a slight anger in his tone when you nod. "Did you always finish?," you shake your head as you close your eyes.

"Look at me, y/n," he says softly and waits for you to open your eyes. "If he always finished, and you didn't, I don't think you are the one that is bad at it, sweetheart," he winks at you as you feel your stomach somersault.

"Now where was I?" he chuckles as he resumes kissing your neck, one hand moving to caress along your exposed abdomen. He moves his way down your body, kissing across your torso as his fingers skim along the hem of the cropped shirt your are wearing before eventually slipping them under the shirt and softly dragging them along the underside of your breasts hearing your breath hitch in anticipation.

He palms over one of your breasts, using his nose to nudge your shirt up slightly to expose the other while he kisses along the valley between your breasts before wrapping his lips around your right nipple. You let out a soft moan as he does and he uses his hand to lift you up enough to allow you to pull your shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor before dropping back down onto the bed.

He sits up slightly to admire your naked top half, "so perfect baby" he whispers, biting his lower lip before pressing a heavy kiss to your lips. He rolls your right nipple between his fingers as he dips his head to take your left nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly and flicking his tongue over it.

He moves his way down your body, slowly dragging his tongue over you and placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along the way. When he reaches the waistband of your shorts you lift your hips slightly to allow him to pull them down your legs as he tosses them to the side.

He settles between your legs, pulling them over his shoulders and wrapping his hands around your thighs to pull them open allowing him full access to you.

He glances up to make eye contact with you, watching your face as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, smirking with satisfaction when you gasp and close your eyes at the sensation.

You relax into the bed focusing on the sensation as he slowly teases your folds apart with his tongue, letting out a strangled moan when sucks and flicks over your clit.

"You're even better at that then I imagined you would be" you pant out, voice barely above a whisper. He pulls away from you, cocky grin displayed on his face, "imagined me, huh?"

"Shut up" you scoff lightly, bucking your hips towards his face and threading your fingers through his hair.

"It's ok baby" he says placing a row of kisses along the inside of your thighs, his beard scratching you slightly, "I've imagined you too, thought about how perfect you'd sound moaning my name, thought about how sweet you would taste, and I must say, you taste even better than I thought you would." He dips his tongue into your entrance, humming and sending vibrations to your core. "Also thought about how pretty those lips would look wrapped around my dick, but we'll save that for another time" he winks at you.

He slides two fingers inside of you, curling them perfectly against your g-spot as he uses his other hand to apply by pressure over your lower abdomen. "Fuck, Christian" you moan out. "Mmm, that's exactly what I want to hear, baby" he groans as you tighten your fingers in his hair when he harshly sucks on your clit.

He continues working you from the inside, hitting against your sweet spot perfectly while alternating between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it, the added pressure of his hand on your abdomen only increasing the sensation.

You bring your free hand up to roll your nipples between your fingers keeping your other hand buried in his hair. "Christian, Chris, Chris, fuck I'm so close, baby, please don't stop" you plead with him, your body begging for a release.

He continues his movements, keeping everything just the same since he knows you are enjoying it. He moans into you as he feels you clenching around his fingers, whispering "come on baby, let go for me."

At his words your orgasm rips through you, your hand clenching into his hair, and a series of strangled moans and curse words escaping from your lips. He slows his movements, helping you through it and presses one final kiss over your clit before sitting up, wiping his mouth on his arm and shrugging his shorts down kicking them off the end of the bed freeing his already hardened cock.

You watch him lazily as you work to calm your breathing while he crawls his way up your body, tucking a loose hair behind your ear before he leans down to kiss you allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

You hum with satisfaction as you reach between your bodies to wrap your hand around his dick. He closes his eyes, letting out a harsh groan when you slowly start to pump your hand up and down him, enjoying the feeling of you finally touch him.

He moves his hand over yours lining himself up with your entrance, coating his tip in your juices before pulling your leg over his hip and thrusting into you slowly.

"Fuck, y/n" he moans out, dropping his head to your shoulder as he settles himself fully into you. "God, you feel good, baby, so fucking good" he whispers like a prayer as he starts moving, setting a pace you are both enjoying.

The sounds of your mutual moans and heavy breathing are the only things filling the silence in the room when he changes position slightly, pulling one of your legs up over his forearm, the new angle forcing him deeper into you and allowing him a better view to watch himself slip in and out of you.

"Holy shit, Christian, just like that," you moan loudly, reaching your hand between your bodies to rub circles over your clit feeling yourself clench as he continues pounding against your g-spot perfectly.

"Fuck, baby, you close? You're squeezing me so goddamn tight, y/n" he mutters out through a few strangled moans of his own as you nod at him "so close, Christian, fuck" you breathe out.

He drops your leg over his hip, closing the gap between your faces and giving you a feverish kiss as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

You come undone under him, vision going dark as you only see spots, gripping into his bicep, as he continues kissing you and his own movements become sloppy. He finally stills his hips, burying himself fully as he spills into you with a moan of your name into your neck.

You stay like that for a few moments, both of you coming down from your highs. He collapses onto your chest, one of your hands moving to scratch lightly at the back of his neck while the other trails up and his arm. He kisses softly along your neck and collarbone before leaning up to capture your lips in a soft and loving kiss.

"Jesus Christ, I lo..." your breath catches in your throat, eyes widened, as you realize what you nearly said, his eyes snapping to meet yours cocking one eyebrow before he decides to leave it and kiss you again. He pours everything he can into the kiss, a quiet understanding between the two of you that he knows and feels the same way.

He pulls away from the kiss as he pulls out of you, flopping down onto the bed beside you and dragging you into his side. "If I'd have known it was going to be that good, I wouldn't have waited so fucking long," he chuckles as he traces over a tattoo of an arrow on your side that he didn't know you have," and I can definitely say, you're not bad at it, at all."

"You aren't too bad yourself" you grin at him as he digs his fingers into your side tickling you and causing you to squeal. He leans down and kisses you again before bringing his attention back to your tattoo. "I didn't know you had this," he whispers, "did you have it last time you were in Florida?" You shake your head at him, "I got it shortly after that trip."

"Does it mean something or were you in a boho phase?" he grins at you before placing a soft kiss over it.

"Reminder to keep moving forward" you smile at him. "Do you have any more?" he questions you quietly out of curiosity.

"Mmm-hmm," you say as you tilt your neck to the side and pull your hair out of the way revealing a small row of stars just along your hairline towards the back of your neck "reminder to keep chasing dreams" you hum as he places a kiss over them as well.

"They are pretty" he compliments you, "and good choices" he smiles. You share a few more quiet kisses, before you head to the en-suite to clean up a bit.

When you return, Christian is leaning against his headboard with his shorts back on. He looks over at you, his eyes dancing along your naked body as your cheeks flush under his gaze, but the way he's looking at you, with such love and adoration, laced with a bit of hunger makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"I couldn't find your clothes" he grins as he tosses you one of his t-shirts to pull over your head. You slip into bed next to him and cuddle into his side. "What's that?" you ask, pointing to the journal he's placing back on his night stand.

"I'll tell you later," he whispers, kissing you on the top of the head, "let's go to bed." He scoots down in the bed, wrapping his arms around you as you lay your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat soothing you.

"Y/N?" he whispers, "you were serious earlier when you said you want to be with me, right?"

"Nah, I was just trying to get laid," you giggle, turning to look him in the eyes earning a chuckle from him.

"Of course I was serious, Chris, I want to be yours and I want you to be mine, and I really want to do whatever it takes to make this work," you say with a soft smile, kissing him sweetly on the lips.

"Good" he whispers, kissing you one more time before you both drift off to sleep.

The next morning Christian wakes up, turning over to find you sleeping peacefully next to him. He quietly admires your features, bathed in early morning light, your hair a bit messy and fanned across the pillow behind you as you sleep on your stomach.

He shifts to move a little closer to you, kissing you gently on the forehead causing you to smile and stir slightly.

"Morning, Christian," you whisper, inching your way towards him without opening your eyes, kissing him softly as you nuzzle your face into his neck and tangle your legs with his.

"Morning, beautiful" he echoes, his voice thick with sleep as he pushes your hair slightly out of your face and kisses you on the temple before wrapping one of his arms around you and scratching your back slowly.

"How often do you think you can come to London?" he asks quietly, "I can't travel home very often, but I could get used to waking up to you every morning pretty quickly."

"I'm actually moving here next month" you answer him, your face still buried against his neck.

"Wait, what?!?" he asks quickly turning you on your back and lifting himself up to hover over your face.

"I accepted a position with my company a few weeks ago, originally it was supposed to be in Paris, but they asked after I'd accepted if I could switch to the London office. It's part of the reason I'm here this week, I'm actually going to look at apartments today with Emily and Sophia," you say, the excitement in your voice mirroring the excitement on his face.

"You're being serious right now?" he questions you, still not quite believing what you've just told him.

You nod and grin happily at him, "yes I'm being serious right now."

"Oh my God," he says kissing you, "I don't ever have to wake up without you?" a wide smile breaking out on his face when you shake your head at him.

You grab your phone, excitedly showing him the different apartments you have scheduled to view later in the morning.

"What time do you have to leave this morning for training?" you ask him, he checks the time and answers that he needs to leave in about an hour and a half.

"I guess I should sneak back to my room now" you smile at him as he shakes his head and pulls you closer to him. "Nope, I'm keeping you here" he chuckles placing a kiss over your shoulder.

"Can we keep this between the two of us for a bit?" you ask him, "I'm not quite ready to deal with answering all of Em's questions," you sigh.

He nods and squeezes your fingers as he intertwines them with his own, "yeah, that's fine, if that's what you want," he says, slightly disappointed because he wants nothing more than to show you off as his.

You turn over and face him, kissing him one more time before getting out of the bed and searching for your pajamas. Once you find them, you cross the room back over to his bed, leaning down to give him a kiss as he sits up to get out of bed himself.

You leave his room, wearing his t-shirt with your pajamas in your hands, as you round the corner headed towards your room, you are met by Ben, as he quietly leaves Emily's room.

You stop dead in your tracks when he spots you, a broad grin on his face as he moves towards you. You are just about to speak when you hear Christian's door open and he slams into your back and drops his phone to the floor. "Shit, y/n, why are you stopped right here" he says glancing up to see Ben, now staring at both of you, caught doing the walk of shame.

He eyes the pair of you up and down as Christian wraps his arms around you from behind. "Looks like you two have figured out how to get along" he smirks as Christian rests his chin on your shoulder and nods.

"Ben, you can't say a word to anyone about this" you whisper shout at him, "especially not Emily."

He nods at you, "your secret is safe with me, y/n," he says as he mimics zipping his lips.

Christian kisses you on the cheek, whispering "go, before Emily catches you" as you scuttle past Ben into the safety of your room.

The boys make their way down stairs, Ben leaving to go home to get ready for training, Christian heading towards the kitchen.

You brush your teeth and hair before slipping on some clothes and heading downstairs to find Christian. You walk into the kitchen as he's finishing pouring two cups of coffee. You hop up onto the counter, taking a sip as he leans between your legs, humming lowly when you scratch his back softly.

"So much for keeping it between us" he chuckles, turning around to kiss you quickly. "Yeah, that lasted 3 whole minutes" you giggle.

"So what do you normally do for breakfast before training?" you ask him, curious to learn his normal routines.

"Usually something pretty light, I'll probably eat again once I get to the training grounds" he shrugs his shoulders at you. "Typically a smoothie, or yogurt and granola, maybe toast and eggs, just kind of depends on the day, I guess."

"When are you going to look at apartments?" he asks you.

"We have three we are going to look at this morning, we will leave here in about an hour and be finished around lunch I think, the three of us were planning on eating together."

"We should be done with training close to then, do you mind if I join you?" he asks with a shy smile.

"Of course not" you smile back at him "just text Emily later and let her know you are joining us so that she doesn't get suspicious of you texting me."

He makes a smoothie as you continue talking, offering you the other half that he's not going to drink before you both head back up stairs. He pulls you in for a kiss once you reach the top of the stairs, before playfully slapping you on the ass as you turn towards your room.

Once inside your room, you turn on some music and hop in the shower. After your shower, you walk down the hallway to Emily's room to make sure she's awake before you head back to your room to continue getting ready. As you are drying your hair, Christian wanders in to let you know he's about to leave, giving you a kiss before heading out.

Shortly after Christian leaves, Emily comes into your room, "Why was Christian in here?" she asks, raising an eyebrow and noticing the slight flush on your cheeks. "He was just letting me know he was leaving" you shrug. "Mmm-hmm" she replies, completely unconvinced as she eyes his shirt on the floor. Convinced she isn't getting anything else out of you, she eventually leaves your room in order to go back to her room to finish getting dressed.

You finish getting ready and make your way downstairs, getting a message from Sophia letting you know she would be at Christian's in about 5 minutes.

After she arrives, the three of you make your way to a small shop to grab a coffee and pastry before heading towards the first apartment you are viewing. The first place is nice, not exactly what you are looking for, but not a bad option if the others don't work out.

While touring the second apartment building, Emily let's you know that Christian will be joining you for lunch, asking if you mind. You let her know it's fine and try to keep your expression neutral even though you are excited to see him, as you've missed him more than you care to admit.

When you arrive at the final apartment you are touring for the day, Emily announce that Christian is actually meeting you at the apartment since he was already close by. You are quite surprised to find that when he shows up, he actually has Ben, Mason, Kai, and Reece with him. The building owner is quite overtaken with the group that has just shown up for a tour since he's a fan of the club.

You all greet one another, Christian gives you a brief hug and squeezes your sides gently before letting you go, Mason engulfs you in a ridiculous embrace followed by Ben and Reece, all clearly excited to hear that you are moving to London.

Christian explains that when he mentioned meeting you and Emily and Sophia for lunch that Kai immediately decided to join as did Ben, Mason and Reece following along for fear of missing out on an adventure.

As you all enter the apartment that would be yours, the owner starts showing you around before becoming distracted by the smattering of questions being asked by Emily. You wander down the hallway, wanting to check things out on your own, walking out onto the small balcony of of what you assume is the main bedroom in the two bedroom apartment. As you are admiring the view, you feel a pair of hands slip around your waist as Christian places a kiss on your cheek.

"Hi" you say, barely above a whisper, as you lean your head back onto his shoulder, feeling him trail a few kisses along your jaw and neck. "Hi" he says breathlessly between kisses, "I missed you" he smiles against your neck.

"I missed you too," you giggle as you turn to wrap your hands around his neck, placing a kiss to his lips. "Do you like this one?" he asks you. "Yeah, it's the nicest one so far, I was really looking for one bedroom, but a second bedroom wouldn't be bad, I could make a small office in there," you smile at him.

"This one is pretty close to The Bridge actually, you could walk if the weather is nice, or the tube station isn't far either," he says leaning in to kiss you again. You both get lost in the moment, deepening the kiss until you hear the door burst open.

"Mom, Dad, can the room across the hallway be mine?" you hear Mason whisper shout at you both before shutting the door behind him. You pull away from Christian dropping your head against his shoulder for a moment before you both turn to face Mason.

"You two suck at being sneaky by the way" he grins at you while you shake your head at him. "How did you know?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow.

"The man practically skipped into practice this morning," he winked at you, "obviously he got some" he chuckles, "and I bullied it out of Ben because I could tell he knew something he wasn't telling me."

"Mase, you can't say anything to the others," Christian pleads with him "we want to keep it between us for now, well, us and you and Ben I guess."

"I won't say a word, but really, can that room be mine?" he says, a broad smile plastered on his face.

"Yes, fine, whatever, just leave us alone" you huff at him, before he turns and leaves shutting the door back behind him.

"First thing, get a lock for that door" you grin at Christian. "What's funny is you think he's kidding, but he will really plan on crashing here, lots" he chuckles.

"Well, I hope he has some noise cancelling headphones" you giggle and pull him in for another kiss before the two of you re-join the rest of the group.

After you all go for lunch, you decide on meeting up in a couple of hours at a paintball center, Mason saying he actually has a date, but that he will just bring her along for paintball with the group.

After going back to Christian's for a while, you, Christian, Ben and Emily meet up with the rest of the group for paintball, all of you pulling on padded jumpsuits to protect your clothing and bodies from the sting of the paintball shots, along with eyewear and a protective vest which also holds your extra gear. Mason introduces his date, Kaitlyn, to the rest of the group and you all decide to split into three groups of three.

Kaitlyn giggles and says she's on Christian's team, pulling a bit of a scoff from Mason who slings his arm around your shoulders saying you are on his team. Ben joins you and Mason, Emily with Christian and Kaitlyn, and Reece, Kai, and Sophia forming the final team. The rules are explained to all of you and you set off into the course.

The three of you find a good place with cover to ambush the others as the come by. "Listen boys, it's your lucky day, I happen to be very good at paintball, but Mason, you are going to have to shut up and be still or you are going to give away our position" you whisper to him sternly.

"Oh, you're kinda hot when you're being bossy," he grins at you, "does Christian like that? I bet he likes being bossed around," he chuckles. "Mason, shut up or I'm going to shoot you myself," you shake your head at him. "Yes ma'am" he whispers back, throwing you a wink.

Before long, you hear Christian's team approaching your position, largely because Emily and Kaitlyn can't be quiet. The three of you quickly make a plan, you will take out Kaitlyn, Mason will take out Emily, and Ben will take out Christian. You separate from the two of them, taking up another position across from them in a small building with a window.

You take the first shot, catching Kaitlyn on the back as she walks past your position. Christian immediately hits the ground, Mason picking off Emily as she stands there a bit confused.

When Christian realizes he's surrounded and the only one left on his team, he drops his paintball gun beside him, throwing his hands up.

Ben and Mason both chuckle at him, telling the girls to head towards the end of the course since they are out. Once they've disappeared, Ben sticks his head up over the makeshift bunker he and Mason are in, "CP, we are going to give you about 5 minutes of cover, there's a surprise for you in that little building over there."

Christian glances around, spotting where Ben is talking about before standing up and grabbing his paintball gun. "You sure I can trust you guys?" he says with a bit of a grin. "Nah, it's probably a trap, but I don't think you'll mind," Mason winks at him.

Christian opens the door to the building, grinning when he sees you leaning against the wall. You both make a display of sitting your paintball guns aside, holding your hands up as you walk towards one another.

"Is it weird if I tell you I'm a bit turned on by how you look right now?" he smirks at you. "Bit of an army girl kink, Mr. Pulisic?" you chuckle at him. "Bit of a you kink actually," he grins as he pulls you into him for a kiss.

Your hands find their home around the back of his neck as you pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss and pulling a quiet moan from him as his hands roam over your body, gripping you tightly against him. Your moment of quiet bliss interrupted when you hear clattering outside. Christian grips his hand over your mouth as the two of you drop to the ground, you inching your way over towards your paintball gun, Christian's gun too far out of his reach to be of any good.

Christian scoots closer to you, and judging by the string of German curse words you can hear from outside, it is safe to assume Kai is out. You peek up from the window, seeing Reece crouching down, and you grab your paintball gun and shoot at him, hitting him squarely in the side as he looks up at you, both of you grinning at each other.

"You're so fucking hot," Christian chuckles from beside you as you watch both Kai and Reece head towards the exit. "Oi, Lovebirds" you hear Ben call out, "you can come out now, it's just us left."

"Where is Soph?" you ask Christian. "I hit her earlier, so it's just the four of us left now," he says absentmindedly, standing up to walk towards the door.

"Babe?" you call, causing him to turn around as you shoot him, splattering paint all over his crotch. "All's fair in love and paintball" you wink at him standing up.

"I hate you, you know that?" he grins at you. "No you don't" you quip back. "You're right, I don't" he says, smearing paint on your face causing you to let out a little squeal before he plants one more kiss on your lips, grabbing your hand as you both exit the small building. "But you're lucky this jumpsuit has padding in the crotch," he laughs softly. "Don't worry baby, I'll kiss it better later," you wink at him. "Yeah, I'm going to hold you to that," he smiles back at you.

Mason and Ben let out a cackle after seeing that you shot Christian, particularly amused by where you've shot him. You all make your way towards the exit, Christian stopping for a moment to tie his shoe, as you continue walking in front of him, he can't pass up the opportunity to shoot you in the ass. "Asshole" you turn around and glare at him, a half smile painted on your lips. "All's fair in love and paintball, babe," he winks back at you as you shake your head at him. "You guys are sickeningly cute," Ben chuckles before snapping a couple of pictures of the two of you for Christian, one of you both facing forward, another of you turned around so that you can see where Christian shot you.

You all make your way towards the exit, laughing at chatting, Christian quickly kisses you one more time, before moving to walk on the other side of Ben.

Everyone decides to meet at Kai and Sophia's to order takeout and hang out a bit longer before calling it a night. Once you all arrive at the house the guys all grab a beer, the girls pouring glasses of wine as you all attempt to chat with Kaitlyn, wanting to make her feel like a part of the group. A few shots of tequila are poured and it's fairly clear she's just here for a good time. Her constant flirting with Christian starts to annoy both you and Mason fairly quickly, although, you have to hide it a bit more than Mason does.

After eating, a game of truth or dare ensues. The guys are no longer drinking, mostly just playing along with the dares and laughing at everyone else.

After Emily is dared to seductively eat a banana, Mason quips that he now understands Ben's excellent mood over the past several days. Sophia shows the most embarrassing photo she has in her phone. Mason has to remove four articles of clothing, leaving him sat shirtless and sockless. You excuse yourself to use the restroom, and as you return you hear someone dare Kaitlyn to give one of the guys a lap dance, you assume she chose Mason, but when you walk into the room, you see that she has indeed chosen Christian instead, his hands gripped firmly on the arms of the chair he is sitting in. You make eye contact with a fuming Mason before turning and exiting the room quickly.

You sit towards the top of the stairs, trying to calm yourself down, obviously Christian wasn't into her, but it still wasn't something you wanted to see. You hear Mason sharing a few harsh words with Kaitlyn before ordering a car for her and sending her on her way. As he comes back inside, he sees you, perching quietly on the stairs. He wanders up and sits down beside you. "Well that was fun wasn't it" he chuckles and rolls his eyes. "You know you don't have anything to worry about, right?" he turns to you with a soft smile, "I'm sure Kai is going to permanently have Chris's fingerprints on that chair."

"Yeah, well, still not exactly what I wanted to see" you scoff at him. He drapes his arm around your shoulders, "and that's exactly why she is gone, we take care of each other in this little group, and you are a part of the group, she is not," he kisses you on the top of the head, "now, come on, let's go see what they are up to."

You both make your way back into the living room where everyone is sitting around, the game now moved on to Fuck Marry Avoid as you take your seat next to Ben. "Ah, y/n," Reece chuckles, "payback for shooting me earlier, Fuck , Marry, Avoid, Mase, Chris, Ben, go."

You take a sip of your wine, not taking much time to think about it, "Avoid Ben, sorry, I don't do sloppy seconds, you smile sweetly at him, Fuck Mase, Marry Christian," you shrug your shoulders, noticing the way Christian's jaw tenses slightly at your answer. You all continue playing for a bit longer, Christian obviously quieter than before.

When everyone decides to leave, Emily hops into the car with Ben, going home with him, leaving you to ride home with Christian. The car ride home is quiet, he does however reach over and pull your hand into his, settling it over the gearshift and rubbing over the back of your hand with his thumb.

He let's you both into the house, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water, leaning against the counter, eyeing you as you get your own bottle of water out of the fridge, turning around and sighing when you see him staring at you.

"Are we going to talk about whatever has gotten you into a mood?" you ask him taking a sip of your water and rolling your eyes when he just shrugs his shoulders, remaining silent and looking at the ground.

"You know, the way this works is that you have to actually communicate when you are pissed off about something, I'm not a mind reader, Christian."

Still nothing, no response, not even a glance up at you.

"Fine, I'm going to bed then," you turn to leave the kitchen, "alone," you call back over your shoulder.

You walk into your room, picking his shirt up off of the floor, shrugging out of your clothes and pulling it over your head before you go into the bathroom to do your skin care routine. After you've washed your face and started applying your various serums, Christian clears his throat behind you, grabbing your attention. You make eye contact with him in the mirror, his eyes staring back at you with a mix of anger and sadness as he comes into the bathroom and sits on the counter beside you.

You continue what you are doing while he watches you quietly. After you've finished the last step and brushed your teeth, you turn to leave the bathroom, but he grabs your wrist softly to stop you, turning you around and pulling you to stand between his legs.

"I'm sorry" he whispers.

"Sorry for what?" you press him, "you haven't done anything wrong as far as I'm aware."

"I'm sorry for getting upset," he sighs. "It pissed me off hearing you say you would fuck Mason."

"Are you kidding me right now, Christian?" you shake your head at him, a bit in disbelief that something so ridiculous would upset him.

"No I'm not kidding you" he says his voice getting a bit louder. "Why would I be kidding? Do you think I really want to think about my girlfr...," he pauses and takes a breath, "think about you fucking one of my best friends? Especially when you won't let me say anything to anyone about us, but you and Mason are perfectly fine being all chummy."

"First of all, I've told you that there is absolutely nothing between Mason and I, seriously, he's like the little brother I never wanted. Second of all, it's a fucking game, Christian! Do you think I particularly enjoyed watching little miss Instagram fawn all over you all day, and watch her give you a fucking lap dance. At least Mason came to check on me and make sure I was ok after that display. And it's not like I'm trying to hide whatever is going on here, I just thought it might be nice if we sat down and told our best friend together, but I don't even know why any of that even matters at this point," you say, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"It matters because I'm fucking in love with you," he blurts out eyes widening when he realizes what he just said as your breath catches in your throat.

"Shit, I'm sorry" he says, voice barely above a whisper now, "I didn't want to tell you like that, because you deserve so much better, you deserve a grand romantic gesture, not this, but it's true, I'm in love with you, y/n, and I can't handle the thought of you being with anyone besides me," he says quietly, eyes softer and brimming with his own tears.

"You're in love with me?" you ask him and he nods, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, baby, I'm so in love with you it hurts," he smiles leaning in to kiss you gently.

"I'm in love with you, too," you whisper against his lips, a broad smile breaking out on both of your faces. "Yeah?" he asks. "Yeah" you sigh.

"And for the record, I've never seen anyone so uncomfortable during a lap dance in my entire life," you giggle, leaning your head against his.

"Oh my God it was awful," he chuckles. "But would you really fuck Mase?" he asks arching an eyebrow at you playfully. "Only if it means I get to fuck you everyday for the rest of my life," you grin at him, "I'm sure I could pretend he was you for long enough to get through it."

He lets out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back and scrunching his eyes, before leaning back down to look at you. "God, I love you so much, how the hell are you this perfect?" he smiles at you.

"It's a gift really, this perfection," you giggle at him, "but I love you, too, and so far, you've been pretty perfect yourself."

"Come on, let's go to bed" he says lifting himself off of the counter, grabbing your hand and puling you towards his room.

"You owe me something for shooting me earlier, I believe," he winks at you, a devilish smile on his lips.

Part 5

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