#meant I could read as much as I wanted and boy did I fucking read
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bucktommyweek day 1: date night
give me something fun (so i can tell that you're the one) (758 words) by gyraether
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard
Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tommy Kinard
Additional Tags: Date Night, Daddy Kink, Mostly Dialogue, Established Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, 7x10 coda I GUESS, No Sex
Summary:
A conversation, diverted.
@bucktommyweek
read on ao3, or under the cut
"Could crack open a bottle of red, use up some leftovers?" asks Buck. "Or takeout. I know it's not much but, I just want to see you tonight."
"Of course," says Tommy, like it's a given—and with Tommy, it kind of is. "You want me to pick you up from the hospital, let Eddie drive your jeep back?"
"Yeah," says Buck, and already the pressure weighing down his chest is easing. He likes a solid plan, and when that solid plan means he doesn’t have to drive to Eddie’s then his after ten hours at the hospital, that’s a bonus. “Can you bring dessert, please?”
“How ‘bout I set off now, hm, and we can pick up ingredients on the way back?”
Buck hums. It’s been a long day, and all Buck really wants to do right now is collapse onto his couch and watch mindless TV, but Tommy baking’s almost as good a show as Tommy cooking, and there aren’t ad breaks every 5 minutes. For the price of a grocery story detour and weighing out some ingredients, Buck’ll take it. If—“Brownies, and you got a deal.”
“You got it,” says Tommy, and hangs up.
·
And when the brownies are in the oven, dinner starts—you know how dinner starts, already. Buck brings up daddy issues, Tommy responds, and—
"God, I hope so," says Tommy, a growl to it so deep it rumbles in Buck's chest.
Tommy's smirking, holding eye contact, and Buck is helpless against the grin that spread on his face. "Didn't know you were into that," he says, "Daddy."
And Tommy grins too, then, throwing his head back in a laugh. "That's not what I meant and you know it," he says, but when his eyes meet Bucks' again, they're just as dilated as his own.
"But we could give it a shot," says Buck, and now Tommy's the one squirming in his seat. Buck feels the rush of power run through him, but it's undercut by a little anxiety, too. So, with a bracing breath, takes Tommy's hand in his own. "You gonna take me to bed tonight, Daddy?"
And the way Tommy groans at that, pulls them both up and crowds Buck against the island—yeah, Tommy liked that, more than he wanted to let on.
"Brat," says Tommy, pecking his lips hard, then drawing back before Buck’s mind catches up to respond. "Baby boy, you're gonna be the death of me."
"No way," says Buck. "You’re not even fifty yet, old man. And you’re way too hot to die.”
“You know what they say about flattery,” Tommy responds, and Buck tilts his head back with a pleased hum, enjoying the graze of teeth against his trachea.
“I have no idea what you mean. Can I fuck your tits? After dessert, I mean. The thought of your brownies has been sustaining me half the day.”
Tommy draws back, and even though he’d been expecting it Buck can’t help but grumble. His dick’s straining against the zipper of his slacks, and it’s already feeling a little damp and sticky. Without Tommy pressed against him, the breeze of his AC feels cold.
“You’re a tease,” Tommy grumbles, and as he turns around, Buck’s eyes are drawn to his crotch like a moth to light—catches a glimpse of a bulge far more prominent than earlier (not to say it wasn’t prominent then) before Tommy’s hip is in the way—and then Buck’s eyes are following the flex of his ass. Not to be objectifying, but those jeans really do show off Tommy’s best assets. He does catch himself before he licks his lips, though. Even if Tommy didn’t see, he’d know he did it, and that’s just kind of embarrassing.
By some stroke of luck, the timer for the brownies pings right then, and if Buck has to swallow the saliva suddenly flooding his mouth, no he didn’t. Tommy bends at the waist rather than crouching to take them out, and oh boy is that a visual Buck could sear into his brain. Maybe in the morning Tommy could—shut up, brain.
“I’m not waiting for those to cool,” he says. “If you don’t cut it, I’ll eat it straight out the pan, just try me.”
Tommy, smart man that he is, cuts two decent squares and deposits them on plates with a scoop of ice cream. “Satisfied?” he asks, teasingly, but Buck’s already grabbed one, and is too busy chewing a gooey hot and cold mouthful to answer. (Yeah, he is.)
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𝔍𝔢𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯 𝔏. 𝔄𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔅𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔖𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔔𝔲𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰. quotes and sentences have been taken from various works from jenniger armentrout. you can change names, pronouns, locations and situations as you see fit. beware some foul language and suggestive situations.
“Beautiful face. Beautiful body. Horrible attitude. It was the holy trinity of hot boys.”
“Why are you such an ass? you're doing a great job.”
"Everyone has to excel at something, right?"
“I've always found that the most beautiful people, truly beautiful inside and out, are the ones who are quietly unaware of their effect."
"The ones who throw their beauty around, waste what they have? Their beauty is only passing. It's just a shell hiding nothing but shadows and emptiness.”
“My palms itched to have a close encounter of the bitch-slap kind with his face.”
“Remind me, to never piss you off again. Christ, are you secretly a ninja?”
“I don't think he meant to kiss me."
"What? Did he slip and fall on your mouth? Those things are known to happen.”
“I always liked you. From the moment you first flipped me off.”
“Aw, did you just fall?"
“Now that’s not very ladylike, Kittycat.”
“Ever since I’ve met you, I’ve wanted to break every rule.”
“You’ll become the centre of someone’s world one day. And he’ll be the luckiest son of a bitch on this earth.”
“I was gonna be super pissed in the afterlife if I died a virgin in this crap hole.”
“Did you think you could stop me? I'll burn the world down to save her.”
“How long have you been standing there?"
“You're an absolutely stunning, murderous little creature.”
“I didn't tell you this because I'm sure you would've changed your mind about the dress."
"Oh, you know, just that the color red is Daemon's favorite.”
“How come you smile when you knock me down?”
“You don’t get to do that and then stop. That’s not how it works. Not when you’re mine. And you’re mine.”
“I lost myself the moment I found you.”
"But I'm insane. You're crazy. Maybe that's why. We just make crazy together.”
"You want kids? Because you know, practice makes--"
“I want to marry you because I'm in love with you, Kat. I will always be in love with you. That's not going to change today or two weeks from now. I will be just as in love with you in twenty years as I am today.”
“Embarrassed someone would see you and think you’re capable of reading?”
“I do have a reputation to maintain.”
“Memories, even bittersweet ones, are better than nothing.”
"I was going to say 'stunning.' You're stunningly beautiful.”
“With my sword and with my life, I vow to keep you safe, Penellaphe.”
“From this moment until the last moment, I am yours.”
“People do the damndest things when they’re in love.”
“...I wasn't going to knowingly put you at risk. You mean too much to me.”
“You make me care about things I never cared about before. You make me think. You make me warm.”
“Only the gods knew what lived in these woods. "
“Without them, they would just be common and ordinary."
“Very rarely is anything I do innocent, Princess.”
'I don't want you to be good.'
“But you know how easy it is to be yourself when you wear a mask.'
“Fuck the rules.”
“I’m focussed on you enough that I can tell exactly what caused that hitch in your breath – when it’s not fear that causes a change in your breathing and when it’s pleasure. Arousal.”
“But please do lie. It amuses me.”
"I’m complicated, capable of caring and of wanting multiple conflicting things. Those things do not necessarily corrupt.”
“And your scars? They are a testament of your fortitude. They are proof of what you survived. "
'Why do you say things like that?'
“They see only in black and white, no shades of grey. No sympathy. They are the true monsters.”
“What you are doesn’t change who you are.”
“I'm sorry, for... not... protecting you.'
“Modesty is for saints and losers, I am neither."
“You’re mad, aren’t you?”
“No being is so powerful that they cannot become weak. Not even a lord, a prince, or a king.”
“It was messy and sometimes it was a disaster, but there was beauty in the messiness and there could be peace in the disaster.”
“Tell me yes and I'll do whatever you want. Anything you want. Just let me do this.”
“Fuck the greater good, Sera.”
“Only the King and Queen can stop war from happening now."
“You undo me. You have no idea how much you undo me.”
“People with the purest souls are capable of the greatest evils. No one is perfect, no matter what they are or what side they fight for.”
“You always seemed lonely. Even when you were with your friends, you were lonely.”
“But it doesn’t really matter. I’m not lonely right now. Neither are you.”
“Just remember, you can only be young and dumb once. And that is a fine specimen to be young and dumb with.”
“Biting can be a lot of fun, but only when it’s appropriate. And that wasn’t appropriate.”
“You are a terrible liar. You do want this. Just as badly as I do.”
#roleplay memes#sentence meme#( cali meme. )#rp memes#rp prompt#rp musings#roleplay prompt#◟ ⋆ memes › roleplay sources.
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Girl are you okay? Cause you've been looking through the "My lesbian experience with loneliness" tag again
Well the short answer is no :D
#the long answer is I saw one post of someone going 'well now that I'm 28 too maybe I'll try doing the same thing the protag does here''#and nearly cried because 28 is such a ridiculously long time away except not really except it's SO#fucking long and so close to what I was gaslit into believing I would ever have that I'd be lucky to make it to my thirties for no reason#and I never wanted anything different and just wanted to live and had panic attacks when reading but I'd still believe it was inevitable#and now I am suddenly having to come to terms with so much I want from life that I had resigned myself to never having because I couldn't#but how am I meant to do that? it's just hanging over my head now and it feels so stupid and I feel so out of place everywhere#it feels like I'm too bad at being a person to be loved and too angry to even admit I want to be#and too regretful to seek it because I'm scared of trampling over people's boundaries like people have done to me#and like I did too before I grew up and thought my way through having some empathy#why do only boys show any interest in me.... why is every friend I make entirely outside the range of people who could possibly reciprocate#why is it so easy for me to brush crushes aside aren't people supposed to suffer for this stuff#does that prove it's not a romantic crush and it's just that I want to be held and wanted#it feels so wrong to want this after fighting so much just to have fulfilling platonic relationships what's wrong with me#that I still want something else what more could I want this life is so ideal as far as 12 yo me is concerned#...when did my brain start viewing any and all kinds of want or ambition as doomed efforts for me?#I have such a headache all of a sudden#I think... the way I value self preservation has gotten all the way around into being harmful maybe#at least a little#everyone I know is nowhere near the amount of control freak as I am and they just go do things they want to do#have I seen them hurt over the consequences multiple times yes. but . I'm tired of hurting over absence#''did you know wishing you had more extreme and easily verifiable trauma is in itself proof of having undergone trauma'' well yeah but like#fuck why couldn't I be traumatized by anything else that wasn't literally the profession supposed to help you with all the trauma#delete later#like for real I want to delete it rn but I also don't
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alright owl house fans, I'm sorry but I have to take a bat to the hornet's nest tonight, so if you just wanna enjoy your cozy cartoon in peace stop reading Now ok, no hard feelings
I just watched the season 3 premiere and it only reinforced my probably controversial take:
amity barely qualifies as a character anymore. that girl is made of cardboard and prayers, and the fact that she keeps getting shoved to the front of the narrative because she is The Girlfriend only further accentuates the fact that there's straight up Nothing going on with her outside of her romance subplot. by contrast, willow and gus continue to be the most charismatic supporting characters, who have to share whatever table scraps of screentime are left over after the plot relevant characters are done talking, since neither of them have had a consistent reason to be on screen since season 1
imho in a better world, amity, willow and gus would have been boiled down to two supporting characters - luz's shy, standoffish upperclass love interest with a complicated family life who eventually stands up for herself and becomes bold and spunky, and luz' one roguish weirdo outcast friend who stood by her since the beginning. the two characters could easily have played out amity and willow's troubled history with one another while they were at it. with only two characters for the writers to keep track of instead of three, the writers might even have been able to give the platonic relationship proper attention and development, and the love interest character could have actually been fun to watch when she was on her own, instead of giving luz one really boring girlfriend who has no personality outside of the relationship and two really likeable but really underdeveloped "best friends" that she never gets any screentime with.
owl house is really cute and I really respect what it's trying to do but I would have killed to see a show with this much budget and talent on board written by people who can write
#deerchatter#owl house negativity cw#this show reads like it was written by an ai trained exclusively on childrens fantasy novels#we need Quirky Outcast Protagonist! we need Conventionally Attractive White Girl Love Interest Whose Life Revolves Around Protagonist!#we need Weird Outcast Friends! we need Angsty Damaged Boy With A Good Heart!#etc etc etc. it's just a rehash of the writers' favorite tropes without any indication they understand what the tropes are FOR#and before any1 comes to fuck w me like buhh it's just a kids cartoon it's not meant to be smart CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING:#1. it is TRYING to be smart. it is TRYING to follow in the footsteps of better kids cartoons in the same genre (su and spop come to mind)#2. season 1 of owl house was great because it stuck to what the writers were good at: comfy fantasy family comedy.#kids cartoons don't have to be smart to be good but the goal of any piece of media should be to accomplish what it sets out to do#and owl house wants to be smart soooo badly and it straight up is not. and that makes me sad. because!! cool witch stuff !!!!#once more the core of my annoyance is that i want a thing to live up to its true potential and it straight up isn't ;_;#i got beef w su over some of its later narrative choices mostly for personal reasons but man its writers could WRITE.#they didn't always write stuff i liked but man could they write!!!! they had so much to say and they knew how to use tropes#and they did so much stuff that was NEW#mad respect. sometimes also just mad. but mostly respect
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omg!!!! can we pleaseeee get a part 2 of come over w abby it was literally the best thing i have EVER read ilysm for making that, i didn’t know i needed it until nowhdjjsh <33333
come now
pt1 (come over)
synopsis; abby ran away. but she couldn’t keep herself away from you for too long.
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, party, drinking, smoking, drug usage (weed), mentions of other girls, jealousy, hickeys, teasing, arguing, public! touching, kissing, making out, hate and needy sex, tit and nipple play, dom! abby x sub! reader, fingering (r! receiving), cursing, hair pulling, chocking, strap on usage (r receiving), recording with phone, cum eating, mommy kink, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, praising, praise kink, possessiveness, squirting…
you can feel her eyes on you. you were sweaty, dancing in between that pile of college students that needed a getaway for the weekend. you had so much alcohol on your veins, mind fuzzy and skin warm. she looked good. with a pair of green cargo pants and a tight fucking black shirt. her shiny blonde hair was down on her back, and in between her fingers stood a blunt, a glass filled with alcohol on the other hand. she was resting against a wall, two of her friends talking.
she was supposed to be paying attention, but she couldn’t catch a word when you looked like that. the party was filled with pretty girls of all years, but jesus christ, none of them took her breath away like you did.
after that night, in which she had finally been able to make you moan her name, to have you on her sheets, she had ran away, leaving before you would wake up to god knows where. now it had been a week, a week in which you’d seen abby with all types of girls.
you couldn’t help but scoff at it. of course. you were furious. confused. but at the same time you couldn’t help but want to kick yourself. it had been that easy. as easy as a little call and she’d had you dicked down. had she lied? had she just used you? you were pretty much the last girl she had not yet fucked from the whole school. maybe she just wanted to complete the list. well, now it seems like you were just one more of them.
your whole body had burned. snapping at ellie when she’d dared as ask what had happened. you couldn’t tell her that you had fucked abby anderson, even less that you had liked it.
you were burning up.
your pride eating at you to not stare. to forget about that night. and you had tried. tried multiple nights to forget about her, but al you could do would be roll on your sheets with the reminder of her touch. of her tongue.
you could cum with her name on your tongue. it was awfully easy. and you hated her to her guts for it.
abby did too. she had caved fucking in. she had gone and fucked you. she had promised herself she wouldn’t. ever. you were trouble. you made her feel things she didn’t like to feel. you made her smile when no one else was watching with your little stupidities —she was always staring at you, you just wouldn’t see it—, and made her want to punch herself at the many times you left her awake not being able to take you out of her head.
she could still remember the jealousy of the first years of high school. when cute boys and girls would approach you. she so knew you should be hers. but she was supposed to hate you. she had to. she couldn’t like you. not you. you couldn’t give her butterflies and make her go weak in the knees with just a smile. she wouldn’t have it. wouldn’t accept it.
but you had cracked her. you seem good at it.
the thought of ellie williams in between your legs, her fucking place, had made it impossible to not beg you to come to her. to tell you what she felt. she needed you. and each day, each second was torture. she was meant to break. you had broke her.
with your sweet fucking voice begging for her, your soft moans and your taste. she had tasted heaven. a very dangerous drug. and she couldn’t get addicted.
of course. she had girls asking for one night everywhere, but not even the prettiest one of them all could make her forget about you.
at how beautiful you’d sounded. how good you had taken her cock and made her cum.
she couldn’t ignore you. couldn’t fucking make herself turn to who she was before it all.
your dress was rilling up, soft plush of your thighs showing for her hungry eyes. there was alcohol shining on your lips. and she wanted to lick it off. she was high out of her mind.
but she knew. she knew she couldn’t go another day without it all.
you looked so hot on your tiny dress and high heels, sweat shining on the skin that she had branded before. she wandered if you worn anything underneath. if you’d gone out to try and drip for someone else.
she couldn’t help it. she wasn’t really paying attention to the girl that had been staring and talking to her through the whole night. her eyes were on you, and that fucking girl.
you didn’t knew where your friends were, you didn’t actually care with the buzz in your head and the soft kisses that some girl was leaving on your neck. her hair was soft, short, brown. and her eyes were dark. she was beautiful. and you were desperate. it was easy to fall on her arms with the need to forget abby.
but suddenly. there was that pine scent, and those warm hands gripping your hips. you felt on your back the hum of a harsh “go.” and next thing you knew was that ava was disappearing.
your blood was boiling as you turned around to face anderson. abigail fucking anderson. with her hooded eyes, sharp jaw and big arms. the alcohol was quickly evaporating from your blood. you pushed away. “what the fuck anderson?”
“anderson?” she inquired. “what happened to ‘abby’?” she smirked and you rolled your eyes. “i liked that better.” she leaned in, and you gasped when she got a grip on your hips, pulling you against her. “even more when you were moaning it.” your body shivered at her words, warm on your ear. “who’s the girl, hm?” she inquired, and you scoffed.
“could ask you the same, don’t you think?” she gritted her teeth, and you looked into her eyes. she was staring at the hickeys decorating your neck.
“what? you jealous sweetheart?” she inquired you, and your stomach jumped at the nickname. you could remember her telling you to cum, fucking you harsh and deep. ‘why don’t you come all over my dick, hm? let me see you fall apart.’
your cunt throbbed, and you felt your slick pooling in between your lips. fuck. no. not again.
“i’m not the one coming back to you.” you muttered on her face. and you saw a vein pop on her neck. suddenly, there was a a harsh grip cupping your jaw. she was close. so close you could almost taste the weed off of her lips.
“careful.” she warned, voice low. so low your knees almost wobbled, your throat almost got ripped with a whine.
“or what? you’re gonna beg?” you pushed her. again. just a little further. just a little more. and that’s all she needed to finally do something about it.
the hand on your jaw circled your neck, tugging you against her lips. she groaned on your mouth, and you whimpered, her tongue pushing inside as her fingers left bruises on your hip. the kiss was angry. all teeth and tongue. she felt the same. she still made your hands shake as you pulled on her hair, still made your chest tighten up and your stomach drop.
“fucking brat.” she growled, kissing down your neck, biting over the hickeys glowing on your skin. she needed to put hers over them.
“fucking dick.” you answered.
“yeah, i’m sure you miss mine, huh?” she chuckled on your ear. “fucking you open. you looked so pretty crying on it. so sweet begging…” you moaned, your hips thrusting against hers, feeling the bulge of her strap under the denim.
“shut the fuck up.” you seethed.
“why don’t you make me, pretty girl?”
you did as soon as your mouth was crashing against hers. she grunted, biting down on your lip.
“oh fuck abby.”
“was killing me seeing you with that girl. couldn’t stop thinking about her fucking you like i did, getting the chance to see how good you look when you cum, make you cry…was driving me crazy.” she confessed, making you whimper. “just wanted to come here and fuck you with my fingers. show her and everyone here who you belong to.” you moaned, her teeth nibbling at your neck, her free hand now on stomach, trailing down your stomach. “you’d like that baby?” you nodded. “i beg you would.” you whinedwhen her hand cupped your throbbing and dripping cunt. the distance in between you so little no one could see as she pushed your panties aside, thick fingers spreading your lips and glistening in your arousal. “fuuck. you’re soaked, doll.” she smirked, at the gasp you let out, at the way your thighs clenched. “is it for me?” she inquired and you nodded. “words.”
“yes, abby, fuck…”you sighed, your hips thrusting against her touch.
“upstairs.” she ordered, tugging from your hand and making you whimper when her fingers left you. she was quick to find an empty room on the second floor, pulling you inside and closing the door. it felt like the next breath you took came from her lips. she tasted like weed and alcohol. so sweet and bitter.
“take this off.” you begged, pulling from her black shirt, and she was quick to push it over her head, toned stomach and chest exposed for you to see, her tits perfectly cupped by her sports bra.
“you’re drooling.” she smirked and you rolled your eyes.
“shut up and fuck me.”
“fuck i missed you.” she muttered against your lips, and you whined. “you and that fucking mouth of yours…” her tongue pushed against yours, spit dribbling down your chin as you let her pull from your dress, leaving you in a cute set of lingerie that had her almost falling to her knees.
you were pulling and pushing at each other, ending up on the double bed, your legs at either sides of her thighs, straddling her lap.
her hands where on your hips, her lips on your breasts. you were grinding down against her, looking for some kind of friction, relief.
“wasn’t the other girls enough?” you teased her, although you needed her so bad you were hurting. in answer she pushed down your bra, taking one of your nipples into her mouth as she left a harsh spank on your ass.
“watch your mouth.”
“watch yours. last time it ended on my pussy.”
she scoffed, and now she was pushing your panties aside, fingers meeting the amount of slick that now soaked your cunt. you hissed. “you mean this pussy? the one dripping for me?” all breath got punched out of your lungs when she harshly and suddenly plunged inside two of her fingers, starting to quickly thrust and curl into you, hitting your g spot over and over again. you moaned. “what?” she teasingly asked, looking at the way your mouth hung open and your eyes squeezed shut. “what was that?” she smirked, seeing how easy you became a babbling mess for her. the wet squelches of your pussy filled her ears. you were so tight and so warm inside. “that’s what i thought.” she whispered against your chest, biting and sucking one of your nipples.
“oh fuck abby.” you cried out. you were already so fucking close it was embarrassing, hips thrusting against her fingers so they could reach deeper.
“this is my pussy, not yours. you hear? mine.” she growled, and you moaned. “say it. tell me it’s mine.”
“it’s yours, abby. yours. fuck!”
she cooed. “look at you. what is it, princess? so obedient… got the brat fucked out of you?” you whimpered, feeling your walls fluttering, your g spot being tortured by her thick fingers. “you’re so close already… so close to cumming all over my fingers, aren’t you baby?” you nodded. “come on, be a good girl and give it to me.” you let out this low moan as you followed her words, soaking her fingers in white strings that made her groan. “that’s it. atta girl…” so warm… she fucked you through it, making you make this little choked out sounds that had her soaking her boxers.
you were a mess, all flushed and droopy fucked eyes with glossy bitten lips, watching as she pulled her fingers out and pushed them inside her mouth, humming at the taste. you pulled from her, kissing her, her tongue letting you get a taste of yourself. she turned the two of you around, and one of your hands palmed her strap, making its back bump against her clit and her groan. you kissed her neck, biting and sucking on her skin. “oh fuck.” she sighed, bucking her hips onto your touch.
“abby, fuck me please…” you tugged from her pants, and she nodded —you didn’t need to ask her twice, she was almost panting at the thought of fucking your pussy on her cock—, kissing you as she quickly got rid of her pants and underwear, the strap already on and low on her hips. it was big, and had a lot of ridges. you almost drooled.
she didn’t wait to align herself with your entrance, lubing the tip of the strap with your cum to push inside. your back arched, the sting of her cock stretching you out inch by inch making you let out this beautiful whimper that had abby feeling dizzy. “fuck. pussy taking my cock so good. i’m gonna shape you to my dick. gonna ruin you for anyone else. you’re mine.” she pulled back, your tight walls sucking her in before she would thrust inside up to the hilt, bruising your cervix.
you screamed her name. she was relentless, groaning as the back of the strap would brush against her throbbing clit, her slick making it easy to glide through her puffy folds. you two looked like animals in heat, your hips fucking against her in need for “more, more, more…”
abby groaned, you were basically fucking yourself on her cock. using her to get off. and fuck if that didn’t turn her on.
she took her phone from her pants, the flash of the camera recording making you hum.
“look at you. riding my dick. desperate little thing…” you moaned. she was pointing the camera exactly to where your cunt stretched around the strap, to the mess you were making of her cock and your thighs due to how fucking wet you were. “i should send this to the whole fucking school. make them know who you belong to, hm?” you moaned, the thought of it turning you on so badly you almost came, nodding.
“yes, abby, fuck…”
she groaned. “tell them. tell them who you belong to.” your back arched at the feeling of a light slap against your clit, making you cry out.
“you! you!”
“that’s fucking right. you’re mine.” her thrust became harsher, the sounds of your cunt engulfing her cock making your thighs shake. it was embarrassing, how much you were enjoying this. how badly you needed her. “fucking mine.” your tits were jumping with every thrust of the snap of her hips, your voice breaking at the feeling of the tip bumping against your g spot over and over and over again…
you were a babbling mess, slurring her name. “abby, abby, abby, abby…”
“what is it, baby? gonna cum? gonna be a good girl and cum for mommy?” she smirked, biting down on her lip at the broken whine you let out. “you like that? like to be mommy’s good girl?” you nodded, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when her fingers found your clit. “then cum. cum for mommy.”
you let out a scream, your high hitting you so hard your ears rung. it seemed to never end. it just got bigger and bigger and bigger as you soaked her cock, your moans getting higher as you rode the best orgasm of your fucking life.
“holy fuck.” she threw away her fucking phone. she wasn’t thinking about sending that video. no fucking way. it was for hers to fuck her cunt when she’d get horny. it was hers. you looked so desperate. no one else could see you like this. she wouldn’t let them.
“mommy…!” you whimpered when her thrust only became harder, her hands gripping your hips in a bruising hold that had you begging it would leave marks. she grunted, feeling her high getting closer as well. “too much! it’s too much!” you cried out. you were so sensitive, coming non stop on her dick, your back arched and nipples swollen due to her sucking. you looked so fucking beautiful it hurt.
“take it.” she growled. “stop being a cry baby and fucking take it.” you gasped when one of her hands pushed down on your stomach, on the bulge her cock made. “can you feel it? feel how deep i’m in, baby? how deep i’m fucking you?” you were crying, it was too much. but at the same time not enough. you babbled her name, pushing on her hips. she manhandled you, choking you down onto the mattress. “stay fucking still.” the lack of oxygen and the feeling of her strong warm hand pressing just the right spots made you fall apart.
“abby, i’m gonna…!” you tried to warn her, but before you could, your thighs were quivering and you were screaming as you squirted all over her thighs and strap, soaking the clothes.
“fuuuuck.” she groaned, looking at you fall apart, cumming over and over and over again. your nails dug on her forearms. “gonna cum, baby. gonna fill you up.” she grunted. “gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum. gonna leave you dripping for a fucking week.” she was a babbling mess. she was so close. so fucking close. she could feel it growing on her lower stomach, the back of the strap rubbing against her puffy and swollen clit.
you nodded.
“please. please. cum inside. need it inside.” you pleaded, and that’s what made it for her.
abby soaked the back of her strap with a moan, rocking her hips to help the two of you ride your orgasms in between moans and whimpers.
when it finally was over, after what felt like hours. her hips came to a halt, deep inside your cunt. she was panting on your neck, sweat coating your bodies. you two were speechless. fucked out of your minds.
she kissed you. deep and slow. wet. her tongue was warm and lazy into your mouth.
“i meant it.” she muttered against your lips, looking straight into your droopy teary eyes. “you’re mine.”
-
a/n: 🤘🏻
#abby tlou#abby the last of us#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x fem! reader#abby smut#abby x fem!reader#tlou abby#abby anderson x reader#abby x reader#abby anderson#abby anderson smut#abby x you#abby anderson x fem!reader#tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou imagine#tlou smut#tlou fluff#tlou2#tlou x reader
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𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | angus tully x reader (series finale)
read 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 and 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 first!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | angus has been waiting to see you again, but the more feelings get involved, the more complicated your affair becomes.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), mega angst but also fluff too, infidelity, boring old people parties, reader is still emotionally constipated and angus still has a breeding kink, but that's honestly it it's just a bunch of emotions so strap in folks!
Angus was pretty sure he broke some kind of record, with how quickly he ran back to his room after talking to you on the payphone.
He was sure that was exactly what you were picturing him doing— he’d made it pretty clear what he’d do once you hung up, and you’d made it pretty difficult to do anything else with the way you were talking. You’d been winding him up on purpose, of course; so yes, you could easily imagine him making a mad dash to his room and slamming the door— if you really ever thought about him outside of those phone calls.
That was the thing Angus couldn’t figure out about you. Well, there were probably a lot of other things than that, but it was the quandary he spent the most time pondering: does she think about me?
Whenever he mustered the courage to ask you something to that effect, you would either change the subject or give a half-answer. Something about how you had a dream about him the other night or how your parents asked about him— never what he was really asking.
But, frankly, at that moment as he shut his dorm room door and jumped into bed, whether or not you thought about him much was not as pertinent an issue. Right then, all he could think about was getting his hand around his raging boner; his mind was just playing everything you’d said to him over the phone on repeat.
I’m touching myself right now, you’d whispered in a sultry voice, I’m so wet, Angus— fuck, I’m so wet…
He’d never had to work so hard to keep a straight face on the phone before… he figured if anyone was really looking, they’d notice how red he was turning or how he kept shifting uncomfortably. And he told you just as much, which of course only encouraged you. Don’t want them to know, huh? you’d taunted. Don’t want the other boys to find out you’re listening to me get off?
And no, he didn’t— you were such a precious thing, the boys here didn’t even deserve to imagine you— but when you offered to stop if it was too distracting, he only found himself shakily begging for more.
As he quickly opened his khaki pants and gripping his cock, he hissed through his teeth; his ego could barely take all you’d said about that cock, about how thick and ‘perfect’ (you used that exact word, perfect, and he thought he might float) it was, about how you wished you could come around it right then instead of your fingers.
“It’s all yours,” he mumbled to himself, under his breath, not even really noticing he was saying it aloud. “You want it, baby? It’s all fucking yours.”
He groaned as he stroked himself, the precum that had been leaking from his tip for a while making everything even easier. Shutting his eyes tight, he pictured you, like he always did: all of you, everything, anything he could remember.
You ever think about me? you’d asked him over the phone— and he’d blurted out his always before he even realized you meant while he was getting off. It was still true, but more specific than necessary. He craved to hear you say it: I think about you too. But he didn’t ask, and you just went back to moaning while you rubbed your clit— which, apparently, was already swollen and throbbing— and, well, he wasn’t strong enough to interrupt that.
“Fuck,” he grunted, deep in the back of his throat, finally letting his pace pick up until his hand was a blur: after all that anticipation and all that waiting, there was no use trying to hold back now. It wasn’t like you were here to worry about him coming too fast, even though you’d still maintained you found it endearing when it happened.
He repeated your voice in his head, the moment that had made him worry he would blow his load in his trousers before he could even get off the phone and back to his room: I’m gonna come for you, you’d warned him in the most beautiful moaning voice, Angus— I want you so bad, oh god— I’m gonna come for you, fuck…
His lip caught between his teeth, his hips rocked up into his own palm. “Yes, fuck, baby,” he panted, “I— fuck!”
He tried to conjure in his mind how it had felt to come inside you, but he knew even his vivid imagination could never really capture the feeling; nothing could even come close. Still, remembering it and letting himself indulge in his strangest fantasies for just a moment sent him over the edge. His face flushed suddenly as he came in long, heavy pulses, the back of his free hand falling over his open mouth yet doing little to suppress his moans.
It was intense— it was certainly better than his orgasms usually were when brought on by himself— but it only satisfied him for a moment. The moment he was finished, with a deep breath in and his hips relaxing back down onto the mattress, he wanted more— he wanted you.
His heavy eyes glanced to the side, trying to remember what it felt like to lie next to you. He’d never felt lonely after jerking off before he met you; now getting off seemed to bring a new wave of heartbreak each time.
When he shook off the thought and looked down at himself, he frowned as he realized he’d ruined his own shirt doing that— not that he could fully bring himself to regret it.
No, his regrets only really began a few weeks later, when the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind finally got the better of him.
It was the middle of the night when he wrote it, after he woke up from a dream of you that he just couldn’t shake from his mind. After checking that his roommate was fast asleep, Angus carefully slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the desk, and pulling out a box of cards and envelopes from one of the drawers. (He thought he’d never use them when his mom sent them with him at the beginning of the year, but a lot had changed since then.)
Something about the ungodly hour made him more honest— or maybe just more shameless. He wrote a frantic ramble, everything he’d wanted to say to you that he’d never had the courage to blurt out over the phone; all the feelings he’d felt since that incredible night in the backseat of your car, which he’d assumed would fade… which he’d tried to convince himself would fade.
Unfortunately, even the adrenaline of writing down the thoughts of you he’d been poring over for over a month wasn’t enough to overpower exhaustion: he awoke the next morning slumped over the desk, the pen still uncapped and fallen a few inches from his hand, the letter left folded open.
He awoke to the sound of someone’s door shutting down the hall, specifically; jumping and blinking quickly, he looked at the window— it was morning, though still quite early— and then at his roommate who was, thank god, still asleep.
Angus looked back at the letter in front of him, only making out a few words in his brief glance, before his cheeks began to heat up and he quickly folded it shut. As more footsteps moved through the hall, the boy in the bed nearby stirred and grumbled to himself, and Angus quickly snatched up the letter and shoved it in his book bag before he was caught red-handed.
Ironically, that little commotion was what actually got the other boy’s attention. “What are you doing at the desk?” he asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.
“Oh, I, uh— I had to do some late night cramming,” Angus explained nervously, “that big Geography test coming up and all…”
The half-awake boy seemed to notice for a moment that the story didn’t really make sense, on account of the empty desk, but he simply shrugged and tossed his blanket aside to get up as well.
For the rest of the day, Angus couldn’t think straight— and not just because of his mediocre rest and achy back from the absolutely terrible sleep posture he’d had. He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, even if he honestly couldn’t remember for certain everything he’d said… he couldn’t stop wondering if he should send it to you. He almost didn’t want to read it again first— he wanted you to read it in its most authentic state, he wanted to mail it before he chickened out just like he had when you said you two could just stay casual. Even if it made his heart race and his palms especially clammy, Angus decided in the middle of that goddamned Geography test that he was going to mail that letter tonight after dinner: he was finally just going to man up and tell you.
Of course, something went horribly wrong along the way: he made a fatal mistake. Looking back on it, he couldn’t tell for certain if his mistake was falling for you in the first place, or writing the infamous letter, or shoulder-checking Kountze without holding on tight enough to his bag.
The argument that happened beforehand was petty and forgettable, even if it gathered a small crowd of Kountze’s friends, but it ended with Angus trying to walk away a tad… aggressively, and with Kountze grabbing him by the strap of his bag which not only knocked Angus off-balance but spilled the contents onto the floor of the dorm’s shared room.
Everyone saw the books and papers hit the ground; everyone saw the off-white cardstock land right on top. Angus reached for the letter quickly, but Kountze beat him there, and held it back with a snicker.
“Well, well,” Kountze tutted proudly, “what’s this?”
“H-hey, don’t read that,” Angus warned, hoping the seriousness of his tone would somehow affect the other boy— but, obviously, it did not. Kountze started to open it and Angus instantly made a dive for it, only to be stopped by three other students who apparently were curious as well about the letter. “Don’t fucking read that!” Angus demanded.
“Oh god, it’s to a girl!” he realized. “Do you have a girlfriend, Tully?”
“I swear to god, Kountze, if you fucking read that—”
“I miss you,” Kountze began to read aloud as Angus thrashed around to try to stop him, “I miss you so much I don’t even know what to say.”
The boys holding Angus back were enraptured as Kountze read the letter; “Do you guys pay this much attention in class?” he mocked them, though they were ignoring him completely as they waited for the other boy to keep reading.
“I feel like I can’t breathe without you— aw, Tully, you’re a poet,” Kountze mocked with a smile. Angus’ heart raced as he remembered what part of the letter came next. “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and your smile— Jesus, this is some really sappy shit— or what it’s like talking with you for hours, or how it feels—”
He stopped, and Angus froze, and after a moment the group of boys started demanding the conclusion. “What— what does it say?!” “Read it, Kountze!”
“How it feels to be inside you,” Kountze continued with wide eyes, staring at Angus’ bright red face as the other boys began to react loudly.
Angus renewed his struggle against the kids holding him back, but even though he was taller than them, he was severely outnumbered. “Stop— that’s personal!” Angus demanded to no avail.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my hand after having you,” Kountze continued with a laugh. “From what I hear from your roommate, Tully, your hand is treating you just fine.”
“Shut up,” Angus hissed, but his words had lost their bite as his humiliation grew.
“I should’ve told you before I left—” he started, but finally Angus found some new strength within himself to shake off the boys holding him back: he dove at Kountze and took him down, scrambling to snatch the card away. He was going to be satisfied with just that, but of course Kountze still had to open his mouth, even when Angus had him pinned. “Jesus, Tully,” he scoffed, “how ugly is this chick that you got her to sleep with you?”
Angus brought a fist swiftly down to Kountze’s nose, who groaned in pain and held his face as Angus got up and ran away. The other boys let him pass, thankfully, and Angus wasted no time getting to his room and slamming the door behind him.
Defiantly wiping a tear from his cheek, Angus took a quick look at the letter— wrinkled, stained and scuffed from the fight with Kountze— and crumpled it up, tossing it into his wastebasket before throwing himself onto his bed and hiding his head under the pillow.
He was stupid to even write it, let alone consider sending it; it was no use, you obviously didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about you. You were the one who said it should just be what it was— a fling. But Angus felt like he’d been flung directly into hell, the way it tore into his chest to imagine you didn’t really want him.
Even if he never read the letter again that day, he remembered how it ended— and it was the part he couldn’t get out of his mind even when he wanted more than anything to forget it all.
Is this what love feels like?
//
It reminded you a lot of that dinner over Christmas break, except somehow, it seemed like he was staring at you even more. Shouldn’t he have gotten that out of his system a bit by now?
But then again, maybe you should’ve been more used to it, since it had been over an hour of picking away at this quail dinner, and he’d barely taken his eyes off of you. Something about him looked different; it was basically impossible that he could’ve visibly aged in just a couple months, and yet he seemed like he was carrying just a bit more age on those thin shoulders. Maybe it was just the slight five-o-clock shadow over his jaw— but, no, there was a different look in his eyes, too—
Realizing you were, in fact, staring back at him, you quickly snapped your gaze back down to your plate.
You’d been wanting a chance to talk to him before this dinner, to hopefully prevent exactly this issue, but once the dinner ended you found yourself avoiding him. Of course you weren’t ready to talk to him— of course you had a million thoughts in your head and half of them didn’t even make sense.
For once, you actually tried to talk to all of your parents’ snooty friends, repeating the same answers over and over about how you were going to graduate school in the fall and how you were looking forward to your family’s Paris trip in the summer and all that jazz. It was worth it to keep Angus off your back for a moment, even if you could still feel his eyes boring into said back from time to time.
Midway through a mind-numbingly boring conversation (if something so one-sided could be called a conversation) with the Gordons about renovations they’d done on their summer house, you glanced around the room over your shoulder and noticed that Angus was apparently absent. His parents were still there, sitting on a couch— that is, his mom and stepdad— so he couldn’t be far, but out of view he was far enough. Figuring he’d gone to the kitchen or the restroom, you figured it was the perfect time to disappear into the downstairs bedroom and, hopefully, hide out for the rest of the party. Excusing yourself quickly, you made a polite dash for the other end of the room.
And yet, somehow, he appeared out of thin air; as you turned down the hallway, only a dim lamp on an antique credenza lighting your way, you heard Angus’ hushed voice behind you. He laid his hand on your shoulder, and the moment you turned to face him, he was on you— his weight pressed you into the wall and you felt trapped in a way that was annoyingly pleasant.
“God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing you hard and sudden; you whimpered a little, nearly melting into it, before you pushed him back at his shoulders.
“A-Angus, wait,” you sighed. “You, um… you didn’t call for a while.”
“Oh,” he mumbled, “um, I’m sorry— I just got busy with midterms and stuff— but I really wanted to!”
He moved like he was about to kiss you again, but you kept your hand on his chest to keep him away. “I wanted to tell you…” you trailed off.
“Tell me what?”
“You remember Brian Stevenson?”
“Oh— um, yeah, I guess so,” Angus frowned a little, clearly confused by what seemed like a non sequitur. “I used to go over to his house when I was little, although it was just to play with his little brother, but… yeah, I remember him.”
“I’ve been sorta, y’know… going with him,” you explained, hesitantly meeting Angus’ gaze just in time to see the most terrible sadness cover his face.
“O-oh,” he choked out, quickly stepping back from you and shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah…” you mumbled, twisting your loafer-clad foot on the carpet nervously. “It’s just, you know, he asked me out a couple weeks ago, and ever since then—”
“So is he, like, your boyfriend?” Angus pressed. You nodded. He looked away. “Right— that’s… cool. That’s cool.”
You bit your lip slightly, hating that he wouldn’t look at you all of a sudden. “Angus, it’s just that, you know, we said—”
“Right,” he interrupted sharply. “Right, I remember what we said— what you said, that we weren’t— you know. That it wasn’t anything.”
“I didn’t say that—” you tried to correct him.
“You said you were mine,” he added suddenly, making your eyes widen. “Did you even mean that?”
“I— Angus, come on,” you laughed nervously. “That’s… that’s just something people say…”
He scoffed, and looked to the side as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek; contempt looked sort of good on him, you thought, except that it was directed at you. He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were watering.
“I’m sorry,” you began but he cut you off right away.
“No, don’t do that,” he shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor. “Don’t lie to me anymore.”
“No— I really am,” you tried to assure.
“Hey, it’s fine,” he insisted sharply. “It’s— you know, it is what it is. It was just one of those things.”
“If it’s fine, then look at me,” you pleaded. He didn’t. And for a long moment, the two of you stood there, still and silent.
“It’s fine,” he repeated softly, turning on his heel.
“Angus, wait,” you hissed, not wanting to raise your voice with all the guests not too far away— of course, it was fruitless, and he briskly blended back in with the crowd.
Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands. That wasn’t how you ever wanted this to go, you never wanted to hurt him; honestly, you’d assumed he’d be irritated, but not… sad. Not devastated. Of course he would prefer to be getting laid, but you figured he wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some other girl to screw around with— sometimes, you’d wondered if he already had.
It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be casual, it was supposed to be fun. You couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done, or anything you’d ever felt, that was less fun than this.
//
It made a strange sort of sense that the next time you saw him was at another party. Of course, this party was entirely different from the last one: for one, it was hosted by your boyfriend, and there sure as hell wasn’t any quail. There was a lot more alcohol, though.
You were hanging off to the side, not feeling quite up for mixing in with the crowd as they danced to the record Brian had put on. Even if they spared you from the same boring questions that your parents’ friends bombarded you with, they were uninteresting in their own way as every conversation seemed to come back to politics or pot.
Brian startled you a bit by coming up beside you, resting his hand on the small of your back. “Hey,” he greeted, and you smiled up at him. Your eyes lingered on his face— he looked… grown up. It was probably just because he had a beard; he certainly didn’t always act grown up, but overall, Brian was perfectly acceptable. He’d asked you out, he’d actually had the bravery for that, so that was a great head start.
You tried to shake the thought out of your mind, looking away from him; it wasn’t a head start because this wasn’t a race. Who, after all, would he be racing against?
For some reason, your eyes turned to the front door— and you bit your lip as you saw Angus coming inside, slipping off his coat and looking around the room (for you, presumably). He looked even more haggard than before: a little pale, eyes sunken and dark, and he definitely hadn’t shaved since you saw him.
Brian looked to find where you were staring, and frowned slightly. “Who’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, um— Angus Tully, his parents are friends with mine, I used to babysit him when he was a kid.”
You knew that wasn’t really what he was asking, so you weren’t surprised when he got to the point more directly: “What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, hoping Brian wouldn’t somehow figure out that your heart was racing.
Brian’s hand moved up to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, just as Angus noticed you and hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd to come face-to-face with you.
“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice raspy and hurried as he took a quick glance at Brian in his peripheral.
“Um— sure,” you agreed awkwardly, not sure which answer would be less suspicious. Of course, when you glanced at Brian, he just looked mildly annoyed— bored, even. You realized in that moment that you didn’t need to worry about him suspecting you and Angus of anything, because he barely registered Angus’ existence: he certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him as some kind of sexual threat.
“Privately,” Angus added— and that actually got Brian’s attention, though he seemed more aware of your discomfort than anything.
“Anything you wanna say to her, you can say in front of me,” Brian assured firmly, and Angus swallowed anxiously— it was obvious from the bob of his Adam’s apple.
“Actually, uh, somebody was looking for you out front,” Angus told him. “Something about a keg getting delivered to the wrong house?”
“Shit,” Brian hissed, dropping his hand from your shoulder and looking towards the door again. “Fucking idiots…”
Having made quick work of Brian, Angus put his attention back on you. “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.
“W-we can just talk here,” you tried to say, but he was already grabbing your wrist and guiding you out; why did your heart still skip when he touched you?
Once he’d taken you through the kitchen and out to the back porch— where you could still hear the music and chatter, but it was much quieter— you spoke.
“Angus, I really am sorry about— you know— but you can’t just—” you started.
“It’s not over yet,” he insisted, surprising you with his intensity; you leaned back against the wooden railing, and he stood just a little too close with those dark brown eyes piercing through you.
“If you tell me you’re happy with Brian, I’ll leave you alone,” Angus decided, puffing up his chest a bit.
“I’m happy with Brian,” you said sternly.
A brief moment passed. “Okay, I lied,” Angus admitted.
“Jesus,” you hissed.
“But only because I don’t believe you!” he explained. “We were so good together.”
“Yeah, we were,” you admitted, “but… it’s over now.”
“No— it’s not. It can’t be!” he insisted with a whine, and you scoffed as you shook your head.
“Angus, you’re being childish,” you scolded.
“Oh, don’t say that,” he grimaced. “Don’t hold that against me— I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Of course you’re not— but you’re not thinking clearly.”
“Damn right I’m not!” he spat. “You’re all I could think about, for months! Months, I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head! And not just the, you know, the dirty stuff— everything. Every moment I spent with you, every dumb thing we talked about for hours, every time you laughed at one of my shitty jokes—”
“Angus, please,” you breathed, glancing down; you could only take so much of this, and you worried he was figuring that out.
“Does he make you laugh?” Angus pressed, stepping a bit closer to you. “Does he make you feel special? Does he make you come?”
“Yes,” you said sharply, “he’s great, okay? I’m happy— so please just stop fucking this up for me.”
“Okay, fine,” he conceded, “you’re happy, I believe you. But… but what about me, y’know? He doesn’t need you like I do.”
Your face warmed up and you crossed your arms tighter, staring down at the ground.
“Of course he likes you— who wouldn’t? But he couldn’t even imagine how I feel about you— how long I’ve been thinking about you. I mean, I’ve wanted you since I was a kid! You’re my dream girl!”
“That’s— that has nothing to do with me,” you tried to explain. “That’s a fantasy!”
“But it’s real, baby,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to gently hold your arms at either side. “It’s so real, you know it is.”
You didn’t even have the heart to deny it— or to tell him not to call you that. You knew if you looked up at him, you wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore; he must’ve known that, too, because he delicately lifted your chin until you met his gaze.
And then he kissed you: tender, sweet, and shameless. He didn’t care if anyone saw, if anyone knew— even Brian. You, on the other hand, still cared enough to try to stop him; but even you couldn’t resist a kiss like this, and you found your hands pulling him closer as quickly as they’d tried to push him away.
He took you home, without another word about what this meant or where you stood with each other. You snuck him into your room and he climbed into bed with you and he touched you like he’d been waiting a lot longer than just a few months for this moment. Frankly, you were beginning to realize that you’d been waiting a lot longer for this, too.
Before, Angus had always been talkative during sex— sometimes annoyingly so. But this time, he didn’t say a damn thing; neither of you did. And yet, somehow, just by the way he looked at you, just by the way he held you, just by the way he moved inside you... you felt like you heard more than you ever had.
//
You sat next to each other on the bench, staring forward into the dark treeline ahead— there was still a layer of frost around their roots, and a new snow had begun to fall even if it wasn’t cold enough for it to stick on the pavement. You tried not to look at him too long, in case it made this any harder, but you did appreciate that he seemed a bit more put together than he had the last time you went a few days without seeing him. He was clean-shaven, too… is it wrong that you kinda missed the stubble?
“Thanks for, you know… giving me a couple days to think about it,” you mumbled, and he nodded.
“I thought you might have somewhere better to be on a Friday night,” he said— trying to lighten the mood a bit, you could tell; trying to make you comfortable.
“Well, even if I did, I think this needs to be done,” you explained, and he pressed his lips together a bit.
He waited patiently, though, for you to break the silence and explain yourself, even if he didn’t seem too surprised when you did it.
“It was a mistake,” you decided. “It was great, but it was a mistake— and I’d really appreciate if we could just… let it go. And if you didn’t tell Brian.”
“Okay,” he nodded slowly. “I wasn’t gonna tell him. But I still think you should dump him.”
“Well, that’s my decision,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.
“I know,” he breathed.
You could already tell, just by the way the next silence began, that he was going to interrupt it with something stupid… you just never expected how stupid.
“The thing is— I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look at you again as your eyes widened. “I fucking love you.”
“Angus, I— you can’t—!” you choked out, but he continued before you could try to think of a response.
“I know I do— don’t say I don’t know what that is, or that I’m too young or something stupid like that,” he pleaded. “I know how I feel, okay? When you miss somebody this much, when you think about somebody this much— what else could love be, but that?”
You sighed, looking away, and he moved closer to you on the bench. Even if you knew it was preposterous that someone else would be in the park at the end of the street at this time of night, you still fought the urge to look over your shoulder.
“Don’t tell me I’m crazy,” he breathed. “You love me too, don’t you? I mean— I thought you basically forgot I existed, but last night… that sort of thing doesn’t just happen, does it? It’s not… it’s not usually like that.”
“No, it’s not,” you admitted, “that was different.”
He perked up, smiling wide when you looked at him again. “Just say it,” he begged, “say you love me too— ‘cause I know you do.”
“I— Angus, it’s more complicated than that,” you explained. “We’re still— there’s Brian, for one thing… we can’t really go on like this, you know that.”
“I know— I don’t want to keep doing this. I want to really be together,” he replied. You tried to turn your body away from his slightly, but he grabbed your hands and held them tight until you looked at him again. “I’m almost done with high school— I’ll go to college where you’re going for grad school!”
You shook your head. “No, you can’t do that.”
“Just think about it: us, together— we could actually go on real dates, and go to college parties together, and, like, study out at the library— or, you know, whatever you college kids do,” he fantasized. You smiled, but shook your head again.
“We… we can’t do that,” you denied.
He frowned, and turned away from you, staring darkly at the ground. “I knew it,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “You’re embarrassed— you’re ashamed of me.”
“What?!” you blurted out. “Angus, no—”
“It’s okay,” he said in a terribly unconvincing way, crossing his arms. “I don’t blame you: I’m just some dumb kid from your hometown. You want a guy your age— not some random freshman… you want something better.”
“That’s bullshit,” you replied instantly, “you can do so much better.”
“C’mon, I’ll never do better than you,” he insisted.
Even though he’d misunderstood you, your heart still swelled a bit at the compliment. “I meant for college, Angus,” you explained, and he deflated a little. “You can do a lot better than a state school.”
“Well, I, um… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted nervously. “My grades are kinda… inconsistent. And I went to so many different high schools—”
“Who gives a shit?” you scoffed. “You’re fucking smart— way smarter than anybody else here. You act like an idiot sometimes, but you’re eighteen, it kinda comes with the territory.”
He frowned, but couldn’t exactly deny it.
“You deserve to go somewhere amazing,” you told him. “You need to go somewhere amazing— and do something amazing.”
For a long moment, he just stared out into the dark; until, suddenly, he whipped his head back around at you with a quizzical look on his face. “Wait— is that what this is all about?”
“What?”
“Do you not want to be with me because you think you’d, like, hold me back or something?” he accused.
You blinked quickly; something about the way he said be with me caught you off-guard— like it was a term much more mature than you had expected from him. Instead of answering directly, you just stammered. “Well, y-you’re young, and—”
He cut you off quickly with a laugh. “Oh my god! You think I give a shit about that?”
“No,” you shot back, “but you should. You realize how fucking dumb it would be to change your whole life for the first person you ever slept with?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds dumb,” he admitted, looking down at his feet swinging over the edge. “But what if it’s somebody that, you know, you think you really have a shot with? What if it’s somebody that you feel like you can’t live without? Somebody that makes you finally get all those songs you hear on the radio—”
“It only feels like this to you because you’ve never felt anything else,” you explained gently. “It’s your first love. It fades.”
“But I don’t want it to,” he said instantly, looking at you with the most heartbreaking eyes you’d ever seen. “God, I don’t want it to.”
You looked up at him as his hand brushed over your face, and felt tears welling before you could fight them off; he kissed you, in a way that you thought he might have never really kissed you before. In a way nobody had kissed you before, in fact. It wasn’t very long, but it felt like it might as well have gone on forever.
When he broke away, he kept his eyes shut, and he pressed his forehead to yours as his thumb stroked your cheek. “Tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he breathed, “please. Tell me it’s not going to end.”
“It has to,” you whispered back, watching his shoulders sink and bringing your hand up to clutch at his chest. “It has to end, someday.”
You took a shaky breath, watching a tear fall from his jaw onto your arm, feeling everything you’d held back finally breaking through as your grip on shirt tightened and your lip began to quiver.
“But it doesn’t have to be tonight,” you sighed.
Gasping with relief and joy simultaneously, he kissed you again, and pulled you closer at your waist, and wrapped you up in his arms tightly.
There was, of course, this nagging voice at the back of your mind— that maybe it didn’t have to end. And god, you wanted to silence that thought permanently if you could, because it had never done you any good. That hope had only ever led to pain before. But, without it, nothing would ever really have a chance: if you weren’t willing to risk the heartache, you’d never let yourself love Angus the way that he deserved and the way that you knew, deep down, you already did.
So, as he kissed you that way you thought people only kissed in movies, and whispered to you those words you thought people only said because they were poets and dreamers, you realized that maybe it didn’t have to end someday. Maybe he would spend the next several years of your lives convincing you that you didn’t need to protect yourself from your own feelings. Maybe he would actually have the patience to break down walls he never built, to fix wounds he didn’t leave. Maybe he was ready to give you something to believe in, something worth taking risks for while you were still young and reckless. Maybe he, like the oncoming equinox, would melt your ice so new life could grow.
Or, maybe, this feeling he had really would fade once he gained a little more life experience; maybe you would make too many mistakes for him to forgive. Maybe you would always be friends, or maybe you would have too much history to be able to see each other again. Maybe you would grow apart— maybe you would have to brace yourself for that, to sit next to him on a cold dorm room mattress as you both realized it just wasn’t working anymore.
The most important thing that you realized in that moment— that eternal moment in his arms, in the dark, in the last snow of Spring— was that it didn’t matter. It didn’t have to be forever to be perfect; it didn’t have to be the ending to be beautiful. He loved you. Even if you were still trying to figure out why, he loved you; and that was true, and real, and special. His love couldn’t fix you, but it made you feel fixable, and you hadn’t seen yourself that way in a long time— you could only dream that you might see yourself the way he saw you.
When you pulled back from the kiss for a moment, you smiled wide— you laughed, actually— and sniffled as he wiped your tears away. “I love you,” you told him, and even though he kissed you again, you didn’t stop saying it. You wanted to keep it on your lips until it didn’t scare you anymore; you wanted to keep your heart open, even if it made you vulnerable, maybe because it made you vulnerable. After all, you couldn’t ever be sure it wouldn’t come back to bite you… if you could, it wouldn’t mean anything.
Even though all you said to him was I love you, each one meant something a bit different. I trust you. I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m going to try. I’m sorry. I’m so glad I met you. I’ll never forget you. Please don’t let me go.
Somehow, you felt like he heard each one. Each time he told you that he loved you, though, you heard the same thing: I won’t let you go, ever.
//
Easter Mass was relatively pleasant, if a little too long. You did notice Angus sitting with his family, across the aisle and a few rows back, but you only gave him a quick wave before the service started and managed to resist glancing back at him after that.
The best part of Easter was always afterwards, though: you stood at the furthest end of the lawn, in front of the ivy-covered exterior wall of the chapel, as children ran around snatching up colorful eggs to collect for their baskets. Even if it was totally stupid, and irrelevant to the actual message of the holiday that the priest had just spent the whole service hammering in, you got a kick out of the fancy clothes and tiny dress shoes, the squeals of delight, the candy and toys in bright pastels. You were just thankful the weather had warmed up in the nick of time for all the festivities— indoor egg hunts never have quite the same effect.
Angus sauntered up beside you, sipping on a styrofoam cup of complimentary coffee, and you didn’t even look at each other, but you both smiled.
“They’re cute,” he stated after a little while.
“Yeah,” you agreed.
“Do you wanna have a kid?” he asked, and you gave him a hesitant glance only to find him looking right back at you— his expression was friendly, but neutral enough that you couldn’t read if he meant having a kid with him or just, you know, in general.
Deciding it must be the second one, you let out a soft, nervous laugh. “Uh, I dunno… maybe someday,” you offered, as non-committal as possible.
“How about right now?” he challenged, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough to stop you from glancing around to make sure nobody heard.
“Angus, fucking Christ,” you coughed. “Don’t joke about that.”
“I’m not,” he shrugged. “I mean, maybe I’m not being literal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being serious.”
“Well… we can’t,” you mumbled, looking out at the lawn again, hoping not to stand out too much. “Not here.”
“I know, I know,” he agreed, and the two of you fell back into a silence— an oddly comfortable one, even. You crossed your arms as you watched the kids run around and he kept sipping on his coffee. After a few moments, though, you spoke again.
“Meet you in the Sunday school room in the West wing in five minutes?”
“Yup,” he said, already turning to leave. You smiled slightly to yourself, glancing down at your white shoes planted in the grass. Even on such a delicately-manicured lawn, wildflowers were already springing up— little periwinkle diamonds scattered here and there.
When what felt like a reasonable amount of time passed, you made your careful and casual exit from the egg hunt to slip back inside. Once you were away from the crowds and on your way to meet Angus, you couldn’t stop yourself from running… and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, either.
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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞
(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)
next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.
a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)
Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.
THEN, 1986.
“Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around.
Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.
“I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.”
“Wha’?”
“Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”
Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”
“Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair.
While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him.
Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him.
The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention.
Someone.
Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side.
Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.
He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.
Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.
They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it.
Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough.
Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie.
He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.
He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.
Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.
And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.
The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.
Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.
With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.
“It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.
If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.
Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.
NOW, 1989
“Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.
“Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.
You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.
Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand.
When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.
Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.
You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.
Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying.
You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job.
You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan.
So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?
Your mother was murdered.
Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.
Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional.
The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.
Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.
And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery.
Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself.
You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.
You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.
Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace.
The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.
Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells.
He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting.
So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.
When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead.
“Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”
It was a little odd, but you did.
When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?
“I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.
“I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”
Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.
The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.
You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him.
You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”
You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’
“Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”
You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.
“Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.
But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”
You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”
What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.
“YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring.
“He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”
You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.
“Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?
“Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”
You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”
You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.”
Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”
Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss.
“I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”
And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.
You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked.
“I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”
“Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.”
You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”
Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”
Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.
“It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.
You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that.
“That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.”
Didn’t feel like it.
Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”
You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.
“No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”
Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”
“Are you sure that’s not cancer?”
“You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands.
“And I can. Please, let me do this.”
You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.
After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.
You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.
You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.
You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.
“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”
Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.
Your step-sister had been apologizing since.
“It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it.
You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.
“So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject.
“It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university.
Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.
“See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?”
You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat.
“Okay, spill.”
Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.
“Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!”
This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile.
“Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush.
“Steve Harrington.”
“STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.
“Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.
“He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”
“Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”
You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”
“Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.”
You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.
“And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again.
“Does he flirt with you?”
“No.”
“See him flirt with any girls?”
“Nope.”
“Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”
“Looks more voluminous than poofy.”
Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”
You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”
“He’s on the spectrum?”
Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”
It got quiet for a few moments.
”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”
You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most.
She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.
”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”
“Reefer Rick?”
“Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”
Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”
Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”
Munson.
You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”
You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”
Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”
“I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”
“How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.
“Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”
You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.
Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.
Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.
“Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”
“No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.
“How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
“I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”
Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.
“H-He’s your favorite…?”
“Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”
“You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”
You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you.
“Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”
Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”
“He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”
Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”
You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.
You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.
You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea.
“Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”
Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.
Maybe a drink would calm you down.
You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.
“The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now.
“What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.
“Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”
You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”
Oh, shit.
Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.
You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.
”Funny seeing you here.”
You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.
“Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”
You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off.
“It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.
“I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.
“Oh.”
He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”
OH, THANK FUCK.
“Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.
“So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”
“Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”
She could eat shit, his pants were yours.
“Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.
“Hey, Carol.”
Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”
“You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl.
“Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”
“Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.
“You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”
“I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.
Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.
When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.
Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”
“Oopsie.”
But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.
“Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy.
Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.
Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.
At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.
You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.
Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning.
You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.
You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.
You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.
“You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.
“You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?
“Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”
He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.
“You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”
He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.
Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.
“I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”
“Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.
“Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it.
Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.
”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.
“You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”
“Wall.”
“Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”
“Great Wall of China.”
Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.
“Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”
Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense.
Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.
”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.
“Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing.
“Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.
“Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.
And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”
At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.
Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.
Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.
“Does that feel good?”
You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.”
Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”
Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.
You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.
All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.
You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.
To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.
Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.
“I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.
You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.
When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.
The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror
The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within.
She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.
You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.
Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.
“Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”
Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.
You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you.
His right arm was out, palm up.
He was waiting for you.
You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.
Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.
“Sissy. . .”
“Sissy…”
“SISSY!”
You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.
She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect.
What the hell?
“You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”
You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways.
You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.
“It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”
“Oh my god…”
���So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.
You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.
“Ooh, your knees…”
You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…
“I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.
“Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.
Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.
“You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”
Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist.
“Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once.
“Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.
“It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”
“Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”
You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.
“Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.
“It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.
“Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”
“That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”
“Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”
“I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”
You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”
Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”
You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.
“─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”
”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.
“And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing.
“That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”
Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning.
You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.
You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.
But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.
You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.
You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.
“Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”
You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”
“I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.
You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.
“Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”
“THAT WE DO!”
You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.
“What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.
“Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.
“Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”
“Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.
“Mm. White wine?”
It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”
“Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”
You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.
“He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”
You shot him a glare.
“Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”
You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers.
You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.
When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.
Then your eyes snapped open.
Oh, god. You were a loser.
After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.
A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.
“Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.
“Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.
There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.
“Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation.
“She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”
“I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.
“Yes, we got a free soda!”
Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”
You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.
“Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”
Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.
“Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.
“Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”
“You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.
“All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.”
“Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”
“I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”
“I bet you can.”
After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.
You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.
Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.
You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house.
Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder.
And it was coming from outside your front door.
You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.
Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home.
You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.
“Uuuhhhnng…”
This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!
”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.
You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.
“Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”
You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.
“OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”
Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.
Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life.
“Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!”
You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.
Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs.
You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.
“Stop it!”
“Leave me alone!”
“Go away, I’m just a girl!”
The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.
Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!
You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”
You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.
Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located.
On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature.
You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it.
Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.
The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.
When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.
Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.
His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.
“It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.”
He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation,
“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”
“Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.
“I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”
It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.
He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.
You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.
“Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”
He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.
“Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”
A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.
Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.
“C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”
#Eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#Freak like me#lisa frankenstein#lisa frankenstein inspo#Zombie!eddie munson#dead!eddie munson#undead!eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson au#Eddie munson angst#eddie munson fanfic#Eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson#Steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x black!reader
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A good morning
Draco, Mattheo, Enzo, Theo and Blaise
Alternatively: It’s like breakfast in bed and heaven to you. And not in the sweet way, but in the smutty way.
Based on this lovely request, I bring you pure porn, no plot. Warning: oral f!receiving, munch alarm!
Writing smut for five guys, a total of 3000+ words of pure porn, sheerly focused on eating you out, is not something I’ll be doing again anytime soon. As fun as this was to write it was seriously brain wrecking. Soo much smuttt! I really hope you enjoy this one!! Happy readings! Enjoy your boyfriends being good boys.
Read ‘Another good morning’, where you return the favour to our Slytherin boys.
Draco
Draco had been an ass to you the night before and he knew it. As soon as he woke up and saw your sleeping figure, guilt washed over him. You were too good for him and you had proven it to him yet again by being understanding and forgiving, while all he did was complain.
Merlin, why can’t I treat her right. He snuggles close to you and lets his hand wander over your body. He places a soft kiss on your shoulder and can’t keep himself from sliding his hand under your night dress. When your still half asleep figure wiggles closer to him and a content smile starts to tug on your lips, Draco feels like he's on to something. Maybe he could still treat you right.
Calm but at the same time burning with eagerness he moves the sheets and pushes your dress up. He starts kissing your thighs, just near your panties, and his hands slide to your ass. “(Y/n), sweetie, move for me.” He whispers and gently lifts your hips to fully take off the piece of lingerie. “Draco?” You murmur as you feel him undress you. He shushes you. “Let me please you.” He whispers and you feel his breath between your legs. For a moment your eyes flutter open, but as soon as you feel him pepper your pussy with kisses you close your eyes allowing yourself to fully enjoy this moment of bliss without asking questions.
He wants to be a true gentleman and doesn’t waste time teasing, but also doesn’t move too quickly. He needs you to enjoy every movement of his tongue as he fucks you with his mouth. He snakes an arm around your waist and starts to move more rapidly sending waves of pleasure through your body. You desperately breathe his name as his tongue circles your sensitive spot. When your moans turn into whimpers Draco’s hunger for you grows. “Let me taste more of you, please (y/n).” Draco was rarely this soft and needy for you and you had forgotten how weak you were for his pleading voice.
You were so close and when Draco starts pushing his face into your pussy like a madman you climax and your hand reaches for his hair. With your fingers entangled in his hair he continues to feast on you as you enjoy your high. “What was that all about?” You murmur still coming down from your orgasm as Draco lays down next to you. He cups your cheek and his thumb caresses your blushed face. “Good girlfriends deserve good mornings.” A content smirk tugs on his lips as he admires your beauty. “I could wake up next to you for the rest of my life.” He confesses with his eyes glued to yours. You smile and snuggle closer to him. “Are you going to be between my legs every morning?” You nudge your nose against his with a playful smile. He kisses you long and passionately. “If that’s what the lady wants then that’s what the lady will have.”
Mattheo
Due to his absence during class Slughorn had left Mattheo’s name off of his selected list, which meant that he had to sit out the next dinner party. Nothing Mattheo normally would care about, but he really wanted to spend some time with you. Also, you weren’t too pleased with him either, because Slughorn’s parties were much more enjoyable with Mattheo present. So, Mattheo had promised to meet you in your room after the party.
Catching Mattheo in a romantic mood was rare, but it happened. Candles, music, drinks and snacks. He had it all prepared, but it had been a long day and you stayed away a little longer. When you finally did return to your room no apologies for your delay were necessary since Mattheo had fallen asleep. Exhausted yourself you had changed and joined him in your bed. A very sleepy Mattheo welcomed you in his arms. “There’s my pumpkin.” Is all he had muttered, before drifting back to sleep.
The next morning, however, Mattheo cursed himself. He really wanted to spend time with you. You were the first person he had ever loved so intensely and you were like air, he needed you. Frustrated with himself Mattheo decides to get out of bed, but as soon as he leaves you start to move, looking for his warmth. He watches you with adoring eyes and it takes him a moment to notice the sheets have left you rather exposed.
Scanning up your thighs, he bites his lip as his eyes stick to your panties. Really, just that lacy thing between me and your wonderful pussy. Fuck, princess. Gently his fingers move over your legs as he settles between them. He places a featherlight kiss on your bellybutton and looks up to see if you’re still asleep. With his eyes locked on your blissful face his lips brush down from your navel to your panties. As his lips move down, he simultaneously lowers your panties.
You slightly stir in your sleep and your boyfriend looks up at you with a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, love, I’m going to be good.” His husky voice soothes you, but a part of you registers his breath on your bare pussy. However, you’re too sleepy to fully process what he’s up to. Now that your panties are low enough you’re finally exposed and Mattheo places a soft kiss on his target. His grip on your thighs thightens, making you more aware of his whereabouts. “Mattheo?” You whine still half asleep, making him smirk. Slowly you’re starting to realize that Mattheo has partly undressed you and your eyes start to flutter.
He’s so horny for you, he feels himself get rock hard and doesn’t waste any more time. His tongue enters you without any teasing, just hunger, and he eagerly presses his face between your legs. Your eyes fling open and your hand instinctively reaches down, grabbing a handful of Mattheo’s hair. You gently tug his curls as your body tenses in reaction to the suddenness of his actions. However, Mattheo ignores your soft grip on his hair and even pushes his face deeper in between your legs, showing you his eagerness. With your mouth slightly agape, the first desperate sounds leave your lips. Instead of tugging on his hair you gently move your fingers over his skull, telling him how well he’s doing. When his tongue starts moving over your sensitive spot you buck your hips his way. “Please.” You manage to whine between moans.
Just hearing your needy voice and tasting you has Mattheo’s dick covered with precum. Gonna have to fucking marry this one. His hands move to your butt, squeezing it like he owns your body. “Mah-Maath.” You try to cry his name but you can’t make a proper sound as you come on his tongue. Mattheo now fully stains his pants as he feels your body tense and relax under his touch. “Was that last sound supposed to be my name?” He chuckles as he wipes his soaked mouth with the back of his hand. You sigh content, exhausted and slightly annoyed with his mockery. He crawls over you and gives you a soft kiss on your cheek. "Good morning, love.” You huff. “Don’t ever do that again.” You breath out, he had you feeling too many emotions at once and you felt like you would never recover. Mattheo looks at you confused, you no doubt enjoyed what he had done, but before he can say anything you wrap your arms around him and pull him close. He answers your non-verbal request for a snuggle and hides his face in the crook of your neck, kissing you.
“I love you.” You say and you feel your boyfriend’s smile on your skin. He pushes himself up to look at you, before kissing tenderly. With his lips still lingering on you, he whispers. “I love you more.”
Lorenzo
You had told him he was in for a big surprise. You had repeated it just this morning, but his mind hadn’t registered it since it was match day. Now you entered his room and he was vast asleep. So much for waiting up for me. Fine. Your loss Berkshire. You didn’t put in any effort to wake him up, knowing that he would regret falling asleep in the morning when he would notice how little you were wearing.
The next morning a still sleepy Enzo snuggled up to you, his hands roaming around your figure. Suddenly his eyes go wide, pupils dilating. He noticed you were still sleeping, so he carefully moved the sheets to reveal you were only wearing a lace top that left nothing to the imagination and didn’t cover your lower half at all.
Enzo pushes himself up to take in the full view. How did I miss out on this. Lorenzo feels himself get unwell as he forgets to breathe. She’s going to be mad and I’m probably not getting any of this for two weeks. His hand softly traces over your hips and naked ass. His eyes fall from your peaceful sleeping face to your beautiful pussy and his sneaky Slytherin side kicks in. Maybe if I just quickly dig in, like a last meal, she can’t take away that which I’ve already had.
Slightly worried he might get himself in more trouble he chews his lips, but his body is already moving to quietly take position between your legs. Very careful not to wake you he moves under the sheets, not really caring about air, all he needed at the moment was you. Getting more and more eager his hands move over your legs spreading them wider, slightly waking you up. “Enzo?” You whisper as you blink a few times, but before you can fully figure out Enzo’s plan you feel his mouth on your folds. His wet and eager tongue slides over and through your folds, sending shivers down your spine. “Wha-ah are you-?” You whine softly as pleasure washes over you.
“I thought that was obvious.” His teasing words vibrate on your saliva covered pussy and your hands grip tight on the sheets, as your boyfriend immediately continues to work miracles with his mouth. “Oh Merlin.” You say before feeling your body fill with ecstasy. “Come on, baby, move for me.” Enzo demands with a surprising neediness in his voice and you happily oblige softly rocking your hips. His tongue starts working on your clit and he sucks your juices like a starved man. While one hand firmly digs into the flesh of your thigh, he can’t help but snake one hand in his pants. Enzo catches himself quietly moaning against your soaking cunt. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” He says like you’re the one that’s to blame for the situation you're both in. You arch your back and your fingers grip tighter on the sheets, he really had no right to complain. You were barely awake and you could already feel your orgasm building up.
“Enzo, I’m so-close.” You moan and you feel Enzo’s grip on you tighten. “Me too.” He breathes and returns to play with your sensitive clit. It’s then that you realise that not only is he fucking you with his tongue he’s also working his hard cock. Your mouth falls open and your moaning gets louder as your thoughts wander to his hard member. You throw your head back and cry out his name loud enough to wake up his friends in the next room. Enzo moves the sheets so he can watch you orgasm as he jerks himself. Aside from your own soaking mess you quickly feel Enzo spilling himself on you. He’s making such a mess of things. But the view of your pretty boyfriend enjoying his own high makes up for a lot.
After a moment he comes down, hovering over you and resting on his elbows. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for falling asleep last night.” He gives you a soft peck on the lips and watches you with a guilty smile. “Also, this is what happens if you don’t wear panties.” You chuckle. “Good morning to you too.”
Theodore
Your relationship with Theo was still young and even though you immediately felt like you had been together since forever, there were still a few things you weren’t used to, like his appetite for you. He was all about sex, but aside from the main dish he liked to snack as well. At midnight at a party he would drag you to the bathroom and fall on his knees to get under your dress. Or pull you into a broom closet in between classes to get under your skirt. And now as he woke up it was the first thing that came to his mind as well.
Time to get the smartest girl to repeat my name like it’s the only word she knows. “Good morning, gorgeous.” His husky voice whispers in your ear, but it sounds distant since you're still vast asleep. He chuckles when he only gets a soft murmur from you in return. He places a kiss on your shoulder, before moving down and pulling up your shirt to kiss your belly. “Why are you wearing clothes? You know I don’t like that.” You’re slowly waking up, but still manage to mutter something that sounds like his name. “Let's get rid of some.” He announces and quickly works down your shorts and panties.
As soon as your cunt is exposed to him he’s on it. Roughly crashing his lips on your pussy, gripping your thighs. Surprised you jerk away, but immediately feel your hips be pulled back. “I’m busy here.” Theo’s raspy voice warns, before kissing your pussy and sliding his tongue through your folds. “Theodore?” You’re baffled at your boyfriend’s new morning greeting. Had you been dating the wrong guys before or was Theo just one of a kind. He eagerly starts eating you out, pulling your hips into his face. What the fuck. You mouth to the ceiling as your eyes roll back. You can barely wrap your head around what you’re feeling, and this early in the morning.
By now you had figured out what Theo loved so much. It wasn’t just the taste of you, it was you whining his name like a needy girl. So you purposely keep quiet as long as possible. This was clearly starting to frustrate the slytherin as he became rougher. Rocking your hips hard and sucking and licking at your cunt like it was his birthright. Your breaths get unstable and you can no longer keep quiet. You try to tell yourself that no other woman would’ve been able to stay silent as long as you did and give in to the pleasure, moaning. Now Theo has all he wanted, except that you aren’t singing his name yet. He moves your legs wider, making you arch your back and grip your pillow tight. As he starts sucking your clit you get squirmy and he expects his name to roll over your lips any moment now, but you do more than just that. “I love you. Theo, I love you.” You pant and he slows down a little to watch you intensely.
His heart squeezes for a moment at your love confession. His arms sneak up to hold your figure and he moves away from your throbbing and soaked cunt to place a sweet kiss just above your navel. “I love you too.” He admits just above a whisper with his eyes on yours. You bite your lip at the wonderful sight. “Now, be good for me and cum.” His tongue mercilessly works on your sensitive nub and you softly cry his name as your eyes get watery due to all the sensations building up. Your body jerks at your release and you reach for his hand, entangling your fingers with his. You continue to whine his name, enjoying your high, while Theo overstimulates your poor pussy. Only when he decides you’ve both had enough he detaches his mouth and lays down next to you with a blissful smile. “I thought you weren’t a morning person?” You question and roll on your side to watch him, your mind still hazy from your orgasm. He chuckles and his eyes roll to you. “Never had a breakfast like this before.” You hide your smile and snuggle against him.
Blaise
Blaise wasn’t the jealous type, but apparently his friends had been teasing him about how ridiculously beautiful you were and you complimenting Theodore’s flying skills after the game had flipped a switch in him. He ignored you for an hour and then he took you to his room to prove to you that no other man could please you like he could. Having you cry his name would remind everyone you were his and several orgasms would surely make you forget about Theo’s flying skill. The next morning Blaise wraps his arms around your sleeping figure. “Good morning, love of my life.” You hear him whisper and you smile, but are still too sleepy to respond.
Not satisfied with the lack of response Blaise licks his lips and scans your body. The sheets were barely covering you and the only garment you were wearing was one of his shirts. Truly a sight. I’m so lucky to have her. Blaise bites his lip and slowly hoovers over you. Have to make sure she’ll never think about leaving. He kisses your cheek and his hand pushes up the shirt you’re wearing. “You’re my pretty girl, you know that right?” He whispers and you make a soft sleepy sound, making him chuckle. “Okay, sleepyhead.” His hand gently strokes over your thigh and his eyes sink to your pussy. His thumb softly moves over your folds and you murmur something inaudible. “I love you, princess.” You hear him whisper as you feel his lips brush over your hips and thighs, leaving sloppy kisses near your entrance. Your eyes open and roll to your boyfriend in between your legs. The next moment he looks up to you, you lock eyes with him while his mouth is just an inch removed from your entrance.
“May I?” He asks innocently and your eyes roll back. “Please.” You whine already feeling yourself get wetter at the idea, but still in a sleepy state. Teasingly slow his open mouth brushes over your pussy, earning a whimper from you while part of your brain still isn’t fully awake. This man, what had gotten into him? He had some serious explaining to do. His hand presses on your tummy to keep you from squirming as his tongue makes his way to your sensitive spot rushing a jolt of pleasure through your body. You feel yourself get needy for more of him and softly buck your his, making him smile against your wetness. “So pretty.” His mouth doesn’t leave your folds and he starts moving his face into you with hunger, soaking his mouth and chin with your juices. You softly bite your finger to keep yourself from screaming as you feel yourself closing in on your orgasm. “I’m-“ Your words turn into incoherent moans and your hand grips his hand keeping you in place, making him look up to you as he eats your pussy with shiny eyes. He admires your beauty as you moans fall quiet when you cum for him.
Panting, you come down from your high and watch Blaise crawl over you through hooded eyelids. “What did I do to wake up like this?” You ask through unsteady breaths, making him smirk and kiss you. “Just being my girl.” He pulls you into a hug, letting you enjoy the aftermath of your morning orgasm on his chest.
#slytherin#slytherin boys#theodore nott#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott x reader#enzo berkshire#enzo berkshire imagine#enzo berkshire x reader#blaise zabini#blaise zabini imagine#blaise zabini x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy#papercorgiworldwritings
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written by @lilystyles
my masterlist xx & style masterlist
authors note inspired by a dream i had about this boy HAHAHA so filthy but that's just him. (also i'm sorry if ur names emma! if it is it's still cute to be best friends w ur name twin :3) ALSO it's also inspired by style (taylor's version)!
brief description y/n has had a crush on harry since they were kids but he’s off-limits. him being her best friend’s brother and all she has never made a move, knowing emma wouldn’t approve. but lines are blurred one night and she doesn’t know if she can follow the rules like a good girl.
warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (m!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, choking, missionary, doggy) sexual tension, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. wordcount: [around 11.4k words, also unedited sorry:(]
fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader
* * * * *
Y/n wished she didn’t fancy him. Oh, she wished it so badly.
On every shooting star or eyelash, she had to decide whether she would wish to forget him or for him to finally notice her, it was a constant tug of war between the two.
Honestly, there were so many things going against him. He was completely unavailable to her and she wondered if that’s why she wanted him most. People always say you want what you can’t have. He was older than her by a few years, he was hardly much wiser but liked to act as if he was.
Or maybe was it just that he was a total prick most of the time, like seriously, so mean?
She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly attracted her to Harry the most. She knew why others liked him, it was because he was so fucking pretty you just wanted to cry. He was that kind of person. And obviously, she had noticed that slight minor detail.
She could agree that was one of the many reasons she had a massive crush on him. But she’d known him for years before he was this fuckboy fratboy who wore backward caps with the body of a Greek god and the filthiest mouth you’d ever heard. She knew him before it all. She knew him when he was just her best friend’s goofy older brother, and she’d liked him then too. Before he was smooth and his words had a sting, when he was just this little giggly loud guy.
She thinks to herself often that a piece of her would always belong to him, even if he didn’t know that. She had tried to like other boys, many many times, and though she did like them she didn’t feel even a smidge like how she felt when she saw Harry. The best way for her to describe being with someone who wasn’t Harry was like being in a state of complete darkness, only this dull twinkle of stars without any moon, and then suddenly the sun came up, all these colours painting the sky as it rose. Harry was the sun for her and those boys were just the stars.
Nearly all the time she wished for a distraction from him but that was hard considering he was always around, Y/n saw him every time she went to their house it was like totally unavoidable. They ran into each other at parties even though he was a few years older, it didn’t matter now they that all went to Uni together. She saw him everywhere! Even when she closed her eyes at night.
So tonight when she went out with Emma she was relieved and sad all at once that he wasn’t at the party, it meant she let loose more than she usually did, completely free of the worry of his judgments. She had a few shots but not enough to get her as wasted as Emma was. They danced and sang, and enjoyed themselves. Exams had been stressful and they needed a fun night, they’d spent months cooped up in the library using flashcards and reading the big textbooks. Y/n needed some time away from her laptop screen and desk. She needed to wear a tight dress, get flirted with, have some drinks and relax. She needed to fucking let loose.
She worked so hard and she was enjoying just forgetting all her worries, Harry included, for a few hours. Sweating and dancing to trashy music was something she had been dreaming of since the start of exam season.
However, the night had taken a slightly sour turn later in the evening when Emma took a few too many tequila shots in a row and spewed down herself, covering her pink dress and shoes and some of Y/n’s shoes too, in sick. She wished she could say this wasn’t a recurring thing but Emma always took it a little too hard on nights out especially when her brooding older brother wasn’t there to help team with Y/n and wrangle her home.
It wasn’t too late probably only midnight, which usually meant they were only just getting started on their drunken shenanigans. But Y/n had to admit she was okay with going home, home being Emma’s place she was roommates with Harry, they were fairly close siblings and their parents felt better knowing they were together. Y/n desperately wanted some water, maybe a snack and to lie down in Emma’s comfortable bed.
As she was trying to find an Uber during the busiest time and hold Emma up from collapsing onto the floor a familiar Irish voice filled Y/n’s ears. She snapped her head around. Oh, thank god.
“Babe! Where are you two off to?”
Y/n turned, “Niall! Hey, we are going home. Emma isn’t feeling too well.”
Y/n had managed to clean most of the spew off in one of the bathrooms at the Uni share house the party was being thrown at, but Emma was all wet from being wiped down and Y/n knew she needed to get her home like now. She was fading and needed her bed and a bottle of water in her, she wasn’t particularly worried but she would feel better if Harry was with her in case something happened.
“D’ya want a lift? I haven’t drunk anything I’m on my way to Paddy’s place,” He said. He looked very sober.
Paddy was his most recent fling.
“You are a gem, I could kiss you!” Y/n said squeezing his bicep in thanks.
Y/n was eternally grateful for him being her saviour, she slid Emma into the backseat and clipped her into the seatbelt, brushing the hair from her eyes. Even with sick all over she was still pretty, Y/n envied that the Styles family had such good genes it was ridiculous. They always looked gorgeous, Anne had created three beautiful children.
Niall knew where to go since he was friends with Harry too and Emma and Y/n of course.
Y/n kept checking through the mirror to make sure she was okay and when she saw the familiar home she sighed in relief at the sight. It was this fairly small duplex but their neighbours were nice and the house was one of Harry’s parent’s properties. So they had it pretty good for Uni students. Y/n was living in a big share-house with a bunch of other people. She wished she was this lucky.
She grabbed all their purses, jackets and keys before she kissed Niall on the cheek in thanks.
“Love you, Babe. Have fun with Paddy!” She winked, knowing Niall really liked this new guy.
Niall blushed a nice rosy colour. “Need any help getting her in?” He asked diverting the conversation.
Y/n shook her head and the two girls stumbled to the front door. Emma was slightly more awake now, her arms slinging around Y/n’s shoulders making the straps of her dress fall as Y/n hunted for the keys in Emma’s little clutch. Y/n had a key to their house for emergencies and she knew where they hid a spare, but she wasn’t going to hunt around in the dark for it.
The door opened before she found them in the clutch which had ten lipsticks that she was rummaging through.
His eyes were so green she felt like they were glowing in the dark. He didn’t say anything he just grabbed Emma and helped her inside. Whispering something to her kindly as Y/n made her way inside behind them. She toed her shoes off before she entered, not wanting to bring Emma’s sick in any more than it already would be.
Y/n sighed shutting the door behind her as she placed all their things in Emma’s room down the hall. Harry had put her on the bed and was taking her heels off for her. He was a good brother. He was protective over both his sisters even though Gemma was the oldest.
“She always goes to fucking far,” He muttered more to himself than Y/n. Who was finding Emma’s sleep clothes in her bedside drawers, knowing she couldn’t sleep in the sick-covered ones.
He didn’t sound annoyed at her or angry, just worried. He was a prick sure, but he cared about his family and friends. His small circle is what mattered most to him. Y/n knew his gruff and broody presence was the exterior of a very gentle soul. When he was at home drinking tea in pyjamas that was the real Harry, not some douchebag.
But she knew that he had a reputation for being a heartbreaker and a lot of people would warn you of him. But Y/n didn’t think that was the real him.
Y/n nodded in agreement, tiredly pushing the hair from her eyes she wanted to tie it up it was sweaty from dancing.
“It’s okay, Niall helped me,” Y/n spoke softly as he stood up from the floor where he’d sat to take her shoes off. He was so much taller than Y/n, his face finally looking at hers now. She felt heat prickle up her back, and the hairs stand on her neck.
He had such an intense stare.
“I knew I should’ve come,” He said. “I worry when you two are alone.”
Two? She thought. He’d never really shown much protectiveness on his end over her, except when guys were being gross at bars or parties. Then he would give them a stern look and tell them to fuck off. But he did that for anyone, Y/n knew that she wasn’t special. She always felt like Emma was his priority always and he didn’t care what she did as long as Y/n got Emma home safe.
It was almost like he could hear her thoughts. “I don’t like when either of you go without me. The stories Emma has told me about what they say to you Y/n, makes me feel sick honestly.”
She despised the way her stomach flipped. She was about to say that she managed okay without him. But his hand slid onto her shoulder pulling the little spaghetti strap back up over her shoulder.
She felt breathless but tried to snap back into her usual self. Feeling more pink than usual, Harry always seemed to have that effect on her.
“I- do your frat friends know how much of a softie you are deep down? Be careful now, Styles, I might go around telling them how nice you secretly are. Ruin that scary reputation of yours.”
He smirked in amusement, Y/n had this ability to melt away that hard shell, stripping him bare to his true self. He hated and loved it all at once, he felt like she saw right through him. Even when people said mean things about him, Y/n never wavered and sometimes even defended him. The only thing she didn’t approve of was his restlessness towards women. He felt one was never enough, and was quite open about that with his hookups. Maybe he just didn’t have the right one.
He left after that so Y/n could get Emma ready for bed. He was pottering about in the kitchen and making tea, she assumed. That was his late-night ritual usually.
Y/n shook Emma awake enough so she could help Y/n a little to get her into some pyjamas. She even got her make-up wipes out and removed all the makeup on Emma’s face and tucked her into bed.
Y/n sighed tiredly at the effort of it all and felt sobered up almost completely now. Emma had the downstairs bathroom to herself usually, it was very clean in there. Y/n decided to take a shower and wash the sick smell off her skin and the sweat from the clubs and the dirty Uni sharehouse.
She washed her hair, face and body. Emma had a lot of really sweet expensive-smelling products, but Y/n had her own little section for when she stayed over. It was all coconut-scented. She felt herself begin to droop in fatigue when she finished cleaning herself. She got the last of the makeup the water hadn’t washed off and changed into a random shirt from Emma’s drawer and some fresh knickers from Y/n’s things she’d left here.
Y/n was here more than she was at her own house. Emma always said she’d kick Harry out and let Y/n take his place, but Y/n knew the siblings actually got on rather well. When Y/n was dressed for sleep she blow-dried her hair on the lowest setting so she wouldn’t wake Emma up, but Emma could probably sleep through an earthquake she was a really deep sleeper. Then she plugged both their phones in and slid in beside Emma tiredly. She shut her eyes and turned off the fairy lights Emma had kept on, ready to lull off.
Y/n had been friends with Emma since they were little they’d all grown up together in Holmes Chapel and it was the kind of place you were just friends with everyone because it was so small but Y/n had always been closest with the Styles family. They lived down the street from each other and Emma and Y/n were never seen without each other. So Harry was used to having Y/n around a lot too.
Growing up he had to make sure nothing happened to them, he was in charge but it was usually Emma giving him trouble Y/n was always a sweetheart, but she had a quick mouth with one-liners that almost knocked him over. He liked that about her, she was sweet but could challenge him feistily without much thought. He’d met his match when it came to arguments.
Often when the parents went away Y/n would be over and Gemma and Harry would have to make sure neither of them got up to anything wild. But it was usually just a sleepover that consisted of them laughing until dawn. Harry was a much lighter sleeper so he would always tell them to shut up.
Harry woke up to the sound of a pin dropping rooms away, he didn’t know how his sister could snore like a freight train and sleep through herself. He also didn’t know how Y/n could share a bed with her. Sometimes he’d get up in the middle of the night for a wee or some water and would find Y/n on the couch with a pillow over her face trying to block out the noise of Emma’s snoring.
So when he heard Y/n roaming about in the kitchen (he knew it was her because he could still hear Emma snoring) he pretended to need some water, wanting to see her. It was probably around 3 AM but he had been unable to sleep. And they hadn’t talked much when she got home. He had wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he knew better. She had worn a dress that hugged all her features, it was black and simple. Hair done naturally, and makeup that was subtle but just made her that tiny bit more pretty. She always looked pretty though.
He came down the stairs from his room and walked into the kitchen. Y/n was using the fridge as a light to find things. She was making tea by the looks of things. She found some of the chamomile that she used every night, in turn, Harry added it to the weekly grocery list in case she slept the night there, and hadn’t heard him creep downstairs.
She was in a big baggy dusty blue shirt that Harry actually thought was one Emma had stolen from him, and a pair of soft pink cotton knickers that were very small. Socks covered her feet making her practically silent. He stepped closer into the kitchen waiting for her to turn around and notice him.
She was trying to be very quiet in every step, knowing Harry was a very light sleeper, and not wanting to wake him. When she finally did look over her shoulder her body jolted in fright dropping the box of teabags onto the floor and a hand falling to her chest.
“Jesus, H.” She whispered, raspily.
He let out a breathy laugh. “Sorry, Lovie.”
She squinted in the dark trying to see him. His hair looked messy like he’d been sleeping and he was just in some boxers as PJs. He ran hot in the night.
“Did I wake you?” She asked a guilty look crossing her face. Her eyes softened as she nibbled on her bottom lip.
He shook his head. “Nah. ‘Aven’t been sleeping well.”
She frowned, not liking the sound of that. She didn’t know why she cared, but she did. “Do you want a tea?”
He smiled, dimples showing. “Yes please.”
She brewed two as he whispered the truth about why he didn’t come out with them tonight. He was originally supposed to, and honestly, she had been slightly disappointed about it. Knowing she’d have to handle Emma alone.
But he told her why, in a soft hushed voice. A few guys in his friendship group had said some really mean things to Harry. Not realising he would feel them so deeply, she thought, they must think he was as mean as he seems. He told the story like he wasn’t phased by the mean comments, but Y/n could tell they had gotten to him. She knew better than his cold stone face.
“Alex said ‘I was a homewrecking prick and womanizer’.” He explained when Y/n asked what the boys had said about him. He heard a hint of protectiveness in her voice when she asked with a pinched face, and he felt a tug in his lower tummy. Why did she care?
Y/n looked up from the mugs at him. The dim lighting of the fridge meant she could only see the outline of his body and the shadows of his features. She saw a glimpse of his eyes, and she could see the look in his eyes. He believed them, he believed those comments. They were glassy with discontentment.
Her eyebrows were pinched in empathy, and she was about to speak but he cut her off. “I know I’m a total prick sometimes, but—”
She interrupted him, “—You are a prick sometimes, but people who really know you know what you're like.” She tried to reason with him. Because she wasn’t going to deny sometimes he would be just plain rude to her, and to others as well. But she also knew he did a lot of nice things too. He had a hard exterior and shied off people easily, if you didn’t know him well he would seem rude. But all his close friends and family knew that he was just standoffish with new people. And loved to tease, and was brutally honest, which Y/n had to admit sometimes that hurt more than the teasing comments.
But he did nice things. Wonderful things, that he went out of his way to do. Like helped his sister when she was drunk, drove people home so they wouldn’t have to walk in the dark after parties, picked Y/n up from the library at midnight if she was too scared to walk home, bought chamomile tea in case Y/n spent the night, made enough dinner in case Y/n was hungry, visited the girls when they were studying with snacks and coffee, and he even helped sometimes if they were confused on work. He called his Mum every day without fail and sent his Grandma photos of birds when he saw them.
He baked a new type of cookie recipe every Sunday and gave it to his friends. He adopted stray cats and played Scrabble with his grandparents every few weekends.
Yes, he was a prick, he said mean things and made fun of Y/n when she went on dates with idiots, and he called her names, filthy ones. And sometimes he would barely acknowledge her. But she knew there was a different reason for that, something she didn’t understand. Something between just the two of them. She thought maybe it was just a way for him to protect his sensitive side from people. From her too, hide himself away.
And yes, he did have sex with lots of people, but he did always tell people the truth before getting involved with anyone. He was honest, and open when it came to his boundaries. Y/n thought that was better than lying and acting like you wanted a relationship just so you can fuck someone. She wasn’t saying she approved of Harry’s constant line of girls coming over, maybe that was her jealousy talking, but she wasn’t going to judge him for doing what lots of people did and owning that he did it. He would never kiss and tell, he was respectful and clear with his intentions. What more could you ask of a fuck buddy or one-night stand? If you wanted a good shag no strings attached Harry was your guy, and surely most people knew from the rumours? She just didn’t understand why people put themself in that position if they knew what they were getting into with him.
He wasn’t a devious person who hid behind a mask of fake sincerity to get in your pants. He was blunt, he asked if you wanted to fuck and if you didn’t that was fine. He wasn’t picky with it either he just liked to have a good time.
She felt differently about being with a person. She usually only wanted to be with someone she had an emotional connection with. But she had a smaller level of experience than Harry, so she thought that maybe she was coming from the point of view of a less experienced person. But the point remained, Harry had his flaws, like anyone but he was good at his core. His intentions remained good. No one is perfect, and she knew Harry was far from it but so was everyone she knew!
She knew her flaws too. Flaws made people human. And she appreciated him despite it all.
“And what is that?” He was standing closer now and she felt suddenly very aware of the fact she was only in knickers and a shirt her nipples could be seen through. The way he was staring her down made her aware of her appearance, he looked almost hungry.
“Well as someone who’s known you for as long as I can remember. You’re kind, honest, open, and a good person with a rotten mouth.” She looked away from him as she spoke, flushed by his close presence. She tried not to stumble on her words but was struggling and honestly felt her hands tremble when she felt his breath hit her neck.
“Kind?” He scoffed eyes trained on her face, it was free of makeup. Her lips looked pouty and her eyes droopy in tiredness. She looked perfect. She always did. Even that one week during the bleak middle of winter when she had been sick as a dog; red nose, glassy eyes, snotty and nasally, hair unwashed, skin red, she’d looked beautiful.
“Harry,” She said his name meaning she was serious, she usually called him anything but, “these fucking friends of yours clearly don’t see you like we do.”
“We?”
She leaned back against the drawers sighing, “We. Me, Emma, Niall, Gem, Anne. People who know you, people who love you.”
“You love me?” He teased.
She rolled her eyes. Of course, that’s what he got from that. He was so annoying.
“You’re alright.” She replied, they both knew she did, handing him the tea. He said a quiet thanks.
He placed it back down, where Y/n was letting hers cool. The face she had made smile only seconds prior melted back to a stoic look, more serious.
He hugged her and Y/n was surprised, but she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled back when he started to get intoxicated on her sweet scent, her skin smelt edible and her hair was soft against his cheek.
“I’m sorry if I’m a prick to you.”
Y/n didn’t mean to but she laughed. A giggle bubbled from her tummy out of her mouth her as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“What?” He said, fighting back the smile that threatened to tug on his lips. It was contagious. He was trying to keep his attention very far from her chest.
She didn’t know what made her say it but, but she told him the truth. “I like it. It's like a game we have. A Harry and Y/n one. I tease you, you tease me. You act like I don’t exist most of the time and I act like I don’t care. You’re mean to me and I let you be.”
Hearing her say it out loud was kind of like being winded. It had always been their game, a game neither mentioned, some sort of unspoken thing they shared.
She could tell he was kind of speechless.
“I don’t know why I let you.” Now that was a lie. She was trying to backtrack.
“I do.” He said stepping closer. His bare legs were pressing into hers. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to tell her. But he didn’t.
“You gonna tell me?” She said quietly, eyes widely looking up into his, as his hands rested on either side of her on the bench. He leaned in closely. So they were eye to eye.
She was trapped in his arms and had nowhere to look but at him, she squirmed under his smouldering eyes.
“You know why too.”
She didn’t speak. What did any of this mean? She had waited a long time to hear him apologise for being a dick to her, and he just did and she’d told him that she liked him treating her that way. What she meant was, that she liked him, she let him treat her that way because for Harry she would do anything. She didn’t care if that made her pathetic, at least she knew it was, at least she could admit it. I mean, wouldn’t you let him treat you like shit under his shoe if it meant he was at least looking at you with those gorgeous eyes? Could hardly blame the girl.
“Why did you have to meet Emma before you met me?” He almost whined with a soft scoff. As if complaining at fate’s hands for dealing them these cards.
She felt her heart rate speed up.
“What do you mean?” She asked, playing dumb. He was talking so much and she was practically drunk on his sultry voice. It was so deep and she just wanted to hold onto the sound forever and feel it melt into her spine like it was now, and listen when she wanted to sink into a state of lust.
He lifted one of his arms and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Then she’d be the one who has to follow my rules, and stay away from you. I could be the one in control. Have you all to myself. No sharing.”
Y/n licked her drying lips, as she processed his words. He wanted her all to himself? “Wait, wait, she has a rule to stay away from me?”
Y/n knew Emma didn’t like it when her friends slept with Harry, it was just weird and they would always complain about how mean he was after, or even try and talk about how good he was in bed. She just didn’t like her friends dating or having anything to do with Harry period. But she assumed it was different for Y/n since she knew Harry pretty well and would consider him someone in her close circle. Even if he did ignore her a lot. She assumed she was fine with Harry and Y/n at least being friends. Y/n had bottled all her feelings away for years, she didn’t think that would ever change. Even if Harry liked her back, she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise their friendship.
“You’re her friend, not mine.” He said, mocking Emma’s tone, making his voice all squeaky and high-pitched.
Y/n frowned. Emma had always been weird about this. She could understand to some extent, but sometimes Y/n wished she could just have a normal conversation with Harry. “Why can’t we be friends? I’ve known you my whole life, and haven’t slept with you. I think I should be allowed to have a conversation with you. I think I can handle that without pulling my pants down.”
Harry’s lips kicked up in a smirk, “You aren’t wearin’ any pants.”
“Oh shut up.” She replied cheeks bleeding pink.
“She trusts you.” Harry said trying to make Y/n feel better, “She just doesn’t trust me.”
Y/n smiled at that, trying to lighten the mood once again. “Who would? I mean this with respect, but you are a bit of a slut.” Her hand came up to play with the cross on his neck.
He giggled, “I simply enjoy myself openly. You should try, Y/n, it’s fun bein’ bad.”
She felt her cheeks warm further, “I can be bad,” Y/n argued but it was no use.
“Oh thas’ such a lie, Baby.” He laughed at her statement rolling his eyes, and Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He’d never called her that before and it brought a rose colour to her cheeks that Harry adored on her. She was so easy to make nervous. But he didn’t think anyone was as good at it as he was.
“It’s not,” She pouted.
He cocked his head in challenge. “Name one naughty thing you’ve done then. Bet y’cant.”
She tried to think, that growing up she was relatively good and even now she hardly participated in much other than seeing Emma or Niall and studying. But she felt this urge to impress him, make him proud almost. Or at least shock him.
“I stole a lolly once.”
Harry found a smile slipping onto his face, he’d always seen Y/n as a fairly innocent person. And she was, for the most part. Soft and sweet in real life, like a bunny or puppy. So soft, and you just want to pick her up and put her in your arms and tell her how cute she is. But she had some mischievousness to her, like all people. Something buried underneath her innocent aura, Harry thought of that side of her often pondering what she was like when she wasn’t hiding and she’d been cracked open raw and teased beyond return.
“Oh yeah? Anything else?”
She tried to think of what would shock him but she fell flat. Until—but no she couldn’t say that, it way was too personal.
“I can see you thinking very hard, c’mon tell me.” He whispered. Y/n shut her eyes. His voice sent shivers down her spine.
Fuck it. It was like she had no control over her mouth, the filth just slipped right out of her pouty lips. She wanted to blame the alcohol, but it was probably just his voice that had her feeling intoxicated.
“Sometimes when I touch myself I think of you.”
Harry practically froze, his lips opening to show he was indeed very surprised to hear that. There was a beat and Y/n didn’t know if she regretted it or not. She was about to tell him it was a joke and run for her life. Change her name, and move to Mexico. Her Duolingo lessons weren’t going to be enough to get by, she’d have to start really learning how to speak properly now.
Until.
“What do you think about, Y/n?”
She felt herself getting hot, she’d really fucked herself here. He would never let this go. Call it the tequila but Y/n wasn’t lying. Truthfully the only thing that got her off was Harry, she couldn’t cum unless his green eyes flashed in her vision. Which she did feel bad about like she was a pervert. But believe that she’d tried to think of others, or watching porn. But she could only ever think of him. Otherwise, it wasn’t as good, and she didn’t get the release she was chasing.
“A lot of filthy things, H.”
He bit his lip, “Like what?”
He could sense her getting shy once more as she crossed her arms and looked at her feet, cheeks all pink and pinchable. “Don’t get all shy on me now, Baby, whatever you’ve touched your lil’ clit too I’ve probably stroked m’cock too.”
Y/n was surprised, head snapping up at his words, and though he was normally very honest even he seemed a bit more nervous to admit it. He was just as bad as her. And he had such a filthy mouth, but that was not a surprise to her. She was just surprised he thought of her, she never saw herself as particularly desirable. She always imagined Harry to like those people who look good running in slow motion.
It took a lot of courage as she began to speak. “I usually think about you…fucking my throat, using my mouth however you like. I like the idea of those hands pulling on m’hair.”
Harry felt his pants twitch. His expression and dark eyes egged her on to continue. He didn’t know she was such a little minx. He’d always imagine her to like soft, gentle caresses. Which wouldn’t have bothered him, though he was fairly kinky, but he would’ve done whatever she liked.
She didn’t know if he would like this but she felt brave, “Like the idea of calling you Daddy….Want to be good f’you, Daddy.”
That’s what made Harry unable to keep his hands by his sides. He grabbed her face forcing her to look into his eyes.
“Wanna be good?”
She nodded coyly, eyes wide. His hands were warm and she practically melted into them.
“Sleep upstairs tonight then.” He didn’t ask her, he simply instructed her. And who was she to say no?
She nodded once again and he patted her lower back as if to say off you go then. She listened and walked slowly in front of him. She felt his presence close by, the sweet citrus and woodsy scent that followed him was right by her nose and she could hear his slow calm breaths.
Her beating heart was thumping against her chest and she wondered how it didn’t fill the quiet house (besides Emma’s window-rattling snores).
He noticed her shaky and anxious energy and his hand slipped onto her waist. “I jus’ wanna hear about y’dreams somewhere comfier, Petal, if thas’ all yeh’ want that’s all we’ll do. Plus I’m saving y’from m’lumpy couch.”
She couldn’t complain about that.
As they walked inside she was welcomed to the scent of Harry, she’d only been in Harry’s room a few times, but never properly. He ushered her to the bed and she sat down tucking her knees to her chest and resting her chin. Examining the walls of famous singers and art that covered it. In the corner by his desk where the only source of light in his room was a glowing lamp, other than some fairy lights above his bed, was a little picture wall.
In the mess of polaroids and film, she saw one of Y/n, Emma and Harry when the two girls had graduated school. He was between them arms around their shoulders and looking to his left at Y/n who was laughing happily with Emma at Gemma who made some joke about something. Y/n knew the picture instantly because it was one of her favourites of him.
“What else, Baby?” He said softly sitting in front of her, interrupting her thoughts of that day when he’d driven home to visit them for it, and looked over to see him leaning against the headboard, arms interlocked behind his head.
“You go.” She said, which made Harry laugh.
“I’m pretty filthy Honey, you know me. I don’t know if it’ll be something you like.”
She looked at him stubbornly. “Try me.”
He shut his eyes and only now did she see he was nervous too, “I often find myself thinking about you on your tummy, underneath me, letting me stuff you full while my hands pin yours to your back so that you’re at my mercy.”
She liked that, her tummy twisted in yerning. “I’d like you to be in charge. Help me forget.”
He was looking at her like she was the sweetest most edible thing. “Can I kiss you?”
She nodded and he placed his hands in her hair, kissing her softly at first just a whisper of a touch of two mouths moulding into one. She leaned in further into the warmth of him and hugged her arms around his broad shoulders as the kiss began to deepen, he tasted like a hint of beer and minty toothpaste. Her chest burned with what only could be described as Harry.
He moaned into her mouth softly, sighing at the taste of her sweet tea-soaked lips. The warmth of her curves pressing into him was comforting, and though he had a desire to completely ruin her until she was crying his name, he liked taking it slow and enjoying this first kiss with her. Exploring her mouth, teasing his tongue against hers, and soft hands roaming up and down her back.
He rubbed her back under the soft shirt, no bra strap blocking his gentle scratches. She arched into his touch.
After all, he’d been dreaming of it for years and he wanted to take his time, even though he was crazy for her and felt this deep animalistic desire, he was gentle with her. Like she could break if he was too rough.
The kiss began to pick up as she slid into his lap, and he encouraged her to rub against his bare thigh. She ground against his tiger tattoo and he could feel the wetness between her thighs leaking onto him already. She moved slowly and uncertainly, his hands moved from her shoulders down to her hips forcefully moving her against him creating friction that made her create a soft whiney noise in the back of her throat. He swallowed the sounds eagerly.
He pulled his lips away breathlessly and dragged his mouth down the column of her throat, kissing sucking and biting wherever he could. Her skin was soft and she smelt like coconuts and something that was just her. He would’ve eaten her whole if he could. She let out soft breaths and sighs, her hips had stopped moving — too distracted by his magical lips.
He stopped to look at her. Really looking.
Her lips were more red, almost like she’d been nibbling on them, and they were all swollen from his kissing. Her cheeks were dusted in a warm pink. Eyes wild and doe-eyed looking up at him. She was picturesque. He wanted to remember her like this forever and be able to come back to this moment at any time. He soaked it in, hoping to remember.
“You seriously are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” He said softly running his big hands through her messy hair. His rings were cool on her skin.
“Harry, don’t.” She said bringing her hands to cover her blushing face.
He sighed. “I’m sorry for not telling you every second of every day.”
“Don’t lie, H. I’ve seen the girls you fancy.”
“Only ever fancied you.” He said his hands grabbing hers and moving them away she looked at him, shocked. “Only ever look for your face in a crowd, Baby.”
She didn’t know what to say so she kissed him and he moaned softly when she rubbed herself against him. He was getting harder and harder with each movement until eventually she stopped and moved away.
“Can I suck you off?” She asked, and the filth was shocking to hear from her soft voice and lips.
He nodded hand stroking her cheek. “Yeah, ‘course.”
She moved down to her tummy between his thighs and looked up at him. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.” She whispered.
He laughed softly, there she was, there was his Y/n. “Thas’ okay, Love, I’ll teach you.”
She slid her hand up his thigh and her fingers found their way into the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down when he gave her a nod of approval. His stiff dick sprung out against his tummy, and he was completely naked for her. The head of his cock was oozing precum and it dripped down to his balls. Even his dick was pretty. Which she should’ve expected.
It had a blush-coloured tip similar to the shade of his lips, he was veiny and long. So long that he reached his belly button. He was girthy too and as she moved her hand to wrap around it, he hissed at the contact, and she almost dropped her jaw at the fact her fingers weren’t touching. He smirked down at her.
Her reaction was boosting his ego in just the right way.
“You alright down there, Petal?”
She nodded, her lips grazing against his now throbbing cock. He ached for her. The sight of the swell of her ass and plush thighs was making him very needy.
And to the surprise of them both she pursed her lips and spat down onto his dick. She was basically drooling all over him, it leaked down over the length of him coating his prick and he practically whimpered at the sight — it was one of his dreams. She then took him into her mouth and began to suck and lick, slowly taking him deeper and deeper.
His hands had slipped into her hair holding it back from her face and he was letting out loud gravelly moans and sighs of pleasure. He was trying to stop his hips from rolling up into her throat. Her mouth was so deliciously warm and tight against him, he felt like a man deprived of water near a watering hole. Her tongue glided around swirling and sucking and teasing the tip of him. When she began to fondle his balls as well, gently massaging them, he let out a particularly loud whiney noise. She popped out off of him.
“Shh, don’t wanna wake Emma up.” She said before dripping another trickle of spit onto him and continuing her fast and merciless pace on him.
“Can’t help it, when you take me like that. S’fucking good.” He said, as his hips jutted into her throat roughly, without realising. “Shit, fuck, sorry,” He said hearing her throat gag on him.
She just went deeper onto him, until her nose was tickled by the snail trail on his tummy. Pulling back when all her breath had gone. She hardly needed to be taught.
She took deep breaths of air and stroked him slowly in her hand, he was panting at her touch.
“You can use my throat however y’like, Daddy.” She said, voice all raw from his cock having stuffed it just seconds ago, before going back down onto him.
“Just tap m’leg if you need me to stop,” He said and she nodded making a noise around him. His hands pulled her hair up away from her eyes. “sucha’ good fuckin’ girl.” He said pushing her head down once more. Again and again, until he was close to cumming. Which had happened fast, and he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed.
His balls ached for release and her teasing little hands that twisted and stroked him, along with her tongue, had him so loud he’d taken to biting his lip in an attempt to keep his sounds from slipping out. He pulled her off him stroking her cheek gently, swiping some tears away. Her eyes had begun to leak with tears from how deep she was taking him, and it made him throb.
“Gonna’ cum soon, Baby.”
She nodded. “Let me have it please, want your cum. Want it all.”
He stuffed her mouth once more at her words, rutting into her throat until she was gagging and coughing around him. His eyes squeezed shut, “Oh fuck, cummin’,” he hissed. Opening his eyes to watch the sight below him.
Her eyes looked up at him, and that’s what sent him over the edge. With one last thrust, he was cumming, hard, so hard his eyes saw white spots and he shuddered into her. She pulled back coughing, she’d swallowed as much as she could but some of it made its way out and dribbled down her chin. She swiped the rest with her thumb and licked it up.
She was just perfect.
He pulled her up by her chin and kissed her.
“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.” He kissed her again before asking her, “Let Daddy take care of ya’ now, is that what y’want sweet girl?”
She nodded. “Yes please.”
“Good girl. So polite.” He said kissing her forehead. His hand slipped into her underwear circling her clit, which was slick with arousal. “So wet for me.”
She sighed leaning closer to his shoulder, pressing her forehead into him to cover her whines. He started to circle her clit faster, and her hips squirmed against his hand he then started teasing her weeping hole. She moaned deliciously into his neck. Felt so good.
“Come rest against me, my love.” She shifted her body at his command and turned to face away from him. Pushing her back into his chest, her bum tucked right against his stiffy. His legs spread open for her to sit in front of him and he grabbed the waistband of her undies pushing her undies down and she threw them to the side with her ankle. She leaned into his shoulder head tipped back and he watched from over her shoulder. Just like the rest of her, her pussy was beautiful. It was glistening in slick and begging for his attention. Beautiful and spread for him like a flower, her swollen bud was puffy and eager to be sucked, licked, and teased.
His hand slipped past her tummy and began to rub her softly coating his finger in her slick, preparing her for him to slip his fingers in. She sighed breathlessly.
“Please, Daddy.” She whispered which made his cock twitch from behind her, she felt against her back.
He slowly slipped one in and her mouth opened but no sound came out until he was all the way inside, knuckle deep, which made her let out a broken cry. “Oh fuck, Harry.”
He began to thrust and curl his finger, moving faster and faster. Her tight pussy clamped down onto him, pulsing every few seconds, as she cried out softly into the room. Her cheeks bloomed with warmth and her body squirmed in pleasure as his other hand kept her legs spread for him. His thumb drew lazy circles on her puffy clit which had her pussy leaking even more onto his finger.
“Like when Daddy takes you like this?”
She nodded. “Mm.”
“Say it, Baby, tell me you like it.”
“I lov-love it when you take me like this.” Her voice was so soft and airy.
He began kissing her neck and shoulder, sucking a mark near her ear. She was too distracted to care about it leaving a mark tomorrow. “My pretty Baby, likes when I tease her little pussy?”
She made a whiney noise and her legs twitched almost shutting.
“So sensitive f’me.”
He slipped another finger inside her and she dripped out even more onto him, crying out softly into the hand she’d brought to her mouth, her slick trickled down her thighs too now and he didn’t slow his movements only went harder and faster into her. Loving the way she melted into his touch.
“Gunna’ cum for Daddy?”
She nodded biting her lip. “‘Feels so good. I’m goin’ ta’ cum soon, Daddy.”
He kept going kissing her skin and massaging her thighs and breasts and eventually her legs shook hard, and shut on his hand and she cried out and pulsed rapidly around his fingers, and he could only imagine how good he’d feel with her cumming on his cock like that. She looked so beautiful he felt like he might cum then and there on her back without having even touched himself. As the peak of her orgasm washed over her he slid his fingers out of her and brought them to her lips, giving her just the middle finger.
“Suck,” He told her.
She obeyed sucking dazedly still trying to calm down from her orgasm, when he pulled it out he brought the other one to his lips.
“Mm.” He said softly, she tasted tangy and sweet.
She took some deep breaths as he held her close. “Thank you.” She whispered softly, shutting her eyes and catching her breath, she can’t remember the last time she came like that. So hard that she felt it in her entire body, so hard she saw stars and couldn’t contain her noises.
“Sucha’ good girl, you’re welcome my sweet girl.” She turned her head to the side and kissed him, very softly and slowly. Nothing feverish and rushed like their previous actions and his hands massaged her bare hips, kneading her plush flesh contently. God, she was just so soft, so warm, so wet, and so perfect. It was like he’d dreamt but better, if that was even possible. He was drunk on her touch.
When she pulled away she looked up at him. “I want your cock, please, I need it.” Her little pleads made his balls ache, and he wouldn’t have to be asked twice by her.
“Okay, Baby.” He said running a hand through his hair. She lifted her shirt over her head and threw it aside, completely bare, so perfect to him. Her nipples harden at the cool air, and her skin pimpled. Her body was perfect, every scar, mole, mark, and spot he’d have happily kissed and run his over for hours if she’d allow it.
He grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it down in the middle of the bed right in front of her. “Why don’t you lie on your tummy f’me, Petal? Rest on the pillow.”
She nodded and put her hips in line with the pillow, her bum sticking in the air ready for him. His hands rubbed her softly, her skin was so smooth under his hands and he wanted to sink his teeth into her plush flesh. She was so fucking perfect, and the way their bodies knew exactly what to do to the other was just magic like they were made for one another. Just like a pair of contrasting colours splashed on a canvas together, it just worked.
“One sec,” He said leaning over to his bedside table pulling out a condom and ripping it open. He slid it over his leaking prick that was already standing tall at the sound of Y/n’s soft moans and perfect, wet, pussy that was waiting to be stuffed full of him.
Before he slid himself inside her she turned to look over her shoulder. “I ‘aven’t in a while. Be gentle please, Harry.”
He kissed her forehead, “‘Course, Gorgeous.”
He held her hand in his reassuringly as he slowly dipped the tip inside of her, feeling her begin to stretch for him. She was tight, from nerves and the fact he was just so fucking large. She wasn’t nervous because of anything being wrong, she just wanted Harry to like her. She didn’t know how, but he had this incredible talent of making her nervous always. He was just so much more experienced, older, and had much more sex than her. She just worried she wouldn’t be up to his standards.
But when he began to coo her gently and rubbed her back and bum with his hands to relax her, she began to feel less nervous. Harry, though a prick with a filthy mouth and a bit of an attitude problem, would never want anything bad to happen to her and liked her for who she was, as she was. They’d been around each other for years after all, and with that sort of time, you just understand each other. He was a mean prick who had sex with just about anyone and she was a naive good girl who strayed from any attention. But they could still appreciate their differences. She was pleasantly surprised at how well their bodies understood each other too. His cock was the perfect fit for her, and she melted into the pain.
Her thoughts of nervousness were lost when he had stuffed her completely full of him, she could feel the tip of him teasing that spot inside her that she could only ever reach with toys, she let out a whimper. “Fuck, Harry.”
It was millions of times better than anything she’d ever experienced.
He hissed throwing his head back, feeling her stretch around him. “So tight, Love.”
He began to move, keeping true to his word, slow and gentle thrusts. Remaining as shallow with his movements as someone could with a cock that big.
Y/n’s eyes watered in a mix of pain and pleasure. Her hand flew back again to grab his wrist. “S’big, Daddy.”
He moaned at the name, it was just so fucking cute coming from her. He wanted to take care of her when she acted all needy like that, “Yeah? Feels big inside your little pussy, doesn’t it?”
God, he was filthy, he made her stomach curl with desire. She never thought she’d like dirty talk all that much, before this she’d felt it was corny coming from boys but coming from his lips it was the closest thing to heaven she’d ever heard.
She nodded into the bed and took her hand back to grip the sheets but he grabbed her hands and held them behind her back. He used them as leverage to push her back onto him, pinning her hands back, just like he said.
“Feeling alright, Baby?” He asked.
And she nodded once more.
“Tell me.” He told her.
“Feels fuckin’ amazing.” She said struggling to find the words, her orgasm had made her foggy and his cock bottoming out made it difficult to think of anything else.
“Feel so good on m’cock, fucking made to take it, Y/n.”
That made her shiver, the pain had started to subside turning into just pleasure now. “Can go faster, H.” She said just above a whisper.
As he began to go faster and deeper like he’d been desperate to, she got louder and louder, and her pussy made these filthy noises against his cock. He was ruining her completely and she was enjoying every moment. Her eyes turned glossy in pleasure.
He let go of her hands to grab her hips and push her back harder, she began to move her hips to meet his, and he cried out.
“Fuck,” He swore, tossing his head back stray curlings falling over his eyes when he looked back down at her.
He squeezed the flesh of her ass and moved his hand forward onto her hair gently tugging it backward, as he began to pound into her even harder.
“Such a pretty little thing, letting me ruin you, what a good girl.” He said his voice all rough and coarse.
She keened clawing at the bed, “Feels so fucking good, Daddy, I love it thank you.”
Even in bed, she was so polite and obedient, that he wondered what she would be like after being edged for a while. Would her obedience turn to brattiness? He would have to try another time. Made him speed up even more at the thought.
“Wanna see tha’ pretty face while y’taking m’cock,” He said deciding to turn her onto her back he got rid of the pillow, flipping her to face him. Her cheeks were flushed rosy pink, her hair a mess from his pulling, and her eyes were practically black her pupils had gotten so big. She was perfect, his perfect good girl, and so beautiful he could’ve cum just looking at her.
He leaned down kissing her lips, as he continued his thrusts. He dragged his lips down along her jaw and down until he had one of her breasts in his mouth. Her nipples were sensitive to his tongue and her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, scratching along the peaks of his back. She felt so close, she couldn’t control any part of herself.
He moved his attention across to the other nipple, massaging the one that had just been marked with his mouth. She was moaning breathily, back arching up into him. She was so sensitive to his touch, so much so that every brush of skin that he dared to touch felt like it was on fire.
“I’m getting close, Daddy.” She said and he began going even deeper, he could tell by the way her pussy was clamping down onto his prick harder and harder and more often that she was on the brink. It made his stomach turn.
“Atta girl, cum on Daddy’s cock.” Her legs were shaking and she screwed her eyes shut at his words.
“Don’t stop, please.” She said, clawing his back.
He didn’t dare change anything he was doing, he stayed hitting that spot deep inside her that made her scream out and claw him extra tightly. She pulled him closer so his mouth was hovering over hers, her legs wrapped around his back and she clawed his arms desperate for her release. She felt her stomach unravelling in the familiar feeling of her orgasm.
“Gonna- fuck, gonna cum!”
He felt her pulse rapidly on his cock and whined into her lips at the feeling. She made guttural moaning noise, all loud and high, as her legs squirmed and she shook around him. He helped her through her orgasm, stroking her cheek with his hands pecking her lips until she came down from it.
It was even more intense than her first and his cock greedily continued pounding her hardly giving her a chance to rest. He moved her leg up a bit higher against his hip and began to hit that spot even harder than before.
She whined hands reaching up to his hair, tugging it, and he moaned. He loved it when she did that
“Can you handle another, sweet girl?” He asked he had no shame in wanting to watch her cum once more. It was too beautiful of a sight you couldn’t blame him, he was greedy for more.
And she nodded tiredly. “Think so. Might have to make me take it though, Daddy.”
Her voice drove him up the wall. “Fuck, so fucking perfect f’me. Love this pussy.” He moved his hand down to rub her clit, he wanted to speed up this next orgasm to be in time with his, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Watching his cock disappear in her was a sight he hoped to hold onto in his mind. It made his eyes roll back in his head.
He kept throwing his head back and grunting as he continued the final stretch before his orgasm.
“Can you choke me, please? Wanna cum with your hand around m’throat, please.” She asked and it took him by surprise. Little innocent Y/n liked being choked too? God, this really was his idea of heaven.
“Please, what?” He asked sternly.
“Please, Daddy.”
He smirked, and Y/n knew she was done for. He slipped his free hand around her throat, rings cold to her neck as squeezed the sides, he watched her become dizzy with pleasure and she start to show signs of cumming again, which was good because he didn’t know if he’d last much longer.
“Cum for me please, Princess, milk me with that perfect pussy.” He said his voice all rough and slurring, his pussy had him losing his mind. He was so far gone.
With a few more circles on her clit, and deep thrusts she was squirting all over his cock with an intense grip on his prick. He felt her drip down him around his cock making creating more friction for him to continue his merciless pace.
“Cumming,” She cried out loudly lifting a hand to her mouth to cover it, and Harry had honestly forgotten they were supposed to be quiet. The only thing on his mind was filling her with his cum. She was still feeling the wave of her orgasm wash over her and was loose-lipped and limp as Harry started to feel the knot in his tummy unravel in a familiar feeling of complete pleasure.
Her pulsing pussy was squeezing his cock so hard he couldn’t wait any longer. “Getting close, Baby.”
“Cum for me Daddy, please want your cum so bad,” She pleaded. He released his grip from her throat and let his forehead press into her shoulder as she pulled him closer. Hands scratching his hair and hugging him close to her body. Craving him.
“Fuck, cummin’ Y/n, cummin’.” He said as his cock twitched hard while he bottom out of her, when his loud moans began to spill from his lips she brought their mouths together and he moaned against her swollen lips.
Even after cumming he stayed inside her for a moment, absolutely spent, head resting on her shoulder. She gently rubbed his back with her hands and didn’t mind him staying close. Eventually, he lifted off of her and kissed her forehead before pulling out, she winced at the feeling of him pulling out of her ruined pussy.
“One sec, Love.”
She nodded. And shifted her hips knowing tomorrow morning she’d struggle to sit. Her hips would probably be bruised and her body would ache, but she did not care one bit. She wouldn’t change what had just happened. She had the best orgasms of her entire life, and Harry seemed pretty content too. And it had been with Harry, of all people it had been with the one person she wasn't supposed to get with.
He tied off the condom and threw it in a little bin by his desk. He walked inside the en suite in his room (he’d won the coin toss), and wet a flannel. He came back with a warm cloth to wipe her down. She squirmed at his touch, feeling very sore and sensitive. “Sorry, Love, I know, but can’t have ya’ all sticky before bed can I?”
She just nodded once again. He put the flannel back in the sink and switched the light off coming back out to find Y/n limp and star-fished in the middle of his bed on the mess of his sheets. She looked completely spent, her three orgasms had tired her out so much.
“Y’ want something to wear?” He asked.
She nodded. “Thanks, Styles.”
He smiled at her usual name for him. “What happened to Daddy?”
“Oh, shut up.” She said blushing, he was probably going to keep bringing that up whenever he could, just to tease her.
He grabbed a big baggy black shirt and some plaid boxers for from his drawer.
“Y’so cute when you blush, you know?”
She frowned hands moving to her face. “Stoppp!” She whispered loudly.
He handed her the clothes and helped her slide into them, and she half expected to be sent back to the couch downstairs and told thanks for the shag, but he pulled the duvet down the bed and patted the middle of the bed for her to sleep there. She moved to lay in the spot and Harry placed the duvet over her.
Sliding back on his boxers from before, and running a hand through his messy sweaty hair he looked over at her. “I’ll get us some water, be right back.”
She nodded. “Alright.”
When he came back with two glasses of water he placed them on the bedside table and sighed before rolling in beside her. She turned to face him. “Hi,” she said with a giggle.
“Hi.” He replied with a small laugh too.
“Your bed's very comfy, Styles.”
“Better than m’couch.” He replied sliding a hand onto her waist to rub her side, soothing her into a restful sleep.
“Much better, should’ve shagged you sooner if it meant bed privileges.”
He scoffed playfully, “Only using me for my cock and the comfy bed, aye?”
She laughed back. “Yeah, obviously, why else?”
He pulled her even closer and turned the tone more serious. “Thank you for before,”
She frowned confusedly. “The blowjob?”
He laughed softly. “No, in the kitchen.”
She laughed at herself. “Oh right,” She said lifting her hand to stroke his cheek which he leaned into. “Well, I like your rotten mouth and shocking brutal honesty and all the rest of you. Don’t worry about those guys.”
He leaned closer, a teasing expression lighting up his face. “You like me?”
She just rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully.
“I like you too.”
This made her blush. “Go to sleep.”
“C’mere then,”
She got even closer and fell asleep to the beat of his heart and gentle caress on her back.
The following morning, she woke up early, which was very unlike her, and in a total panic, that Emma might have noticed she was missing from the couch. Harry groaned grabbing her, “Don’t go.”
“Have to, Em’s gonna notice, she’d kill us both.” She said, voice all raspy and eyes bleary.
He whined not letting go. “Stupid Emma.”
“Shh. I’ll see you later.” She was about to leave back downstairs, but he grabbed her and she watched him waiting for what else wanted from her.
“Kiss?”
She leaned down and pecked his lips which he smiled at shutting his eyes to go back to sleep, and she left sneaking back downstairs. Sluggishly wrapping the blanket around her and shutting her eyes, even though she was much too giddy to sleep.
When Emma woke up with a throbbing head she smiled at Y/n and she started making coffee quietly since her head couldn’t handle anything loud. This made Y/n stir, sitting up and turning the telly on sleepily. A re-run of Friends was on and she wrapped herself up in the blanket and sat back watching.
Emma wordlessly passed her a coffee and sat beside her, stealing some of the blanket. They spent the rest of the episode in silence just huddling together for warmth and sipping away tiredly, until Harry’s footsteps could be heard creaking down the stairs.
“Want some pancakes, children?”
The pair nodded.
Y/n looked over at him smiling to herself, he’d changed into a loose navy crewneck and some pyjama pants. He looked gorgeous, and she was reminded of last night. She'd liked him for years, and now she'd done filthy things with him, would she ever recover?
When the pancakes were ready they all sat together at the table. Harry was a wonderful cook, he made a variety of pancakes.
Blueberry, chocolate chip, plain, some with strawberries and cream. He'd brought out lemon and sugar too because that's what Y/n liked on her pancakes, and lots of fruit for Emma. He'd brought out two big jugs of juice for them and a coffee pot.
“Sleep well, Em?” Asked Harry, with a mouthful of blueberry pancake chewing lazily. How did he even look sexy eating?
She nodded. “Yeah,”
“Me too.” He replied before turning to Y/n, who was mid-sip on some juice, it was a mix of berries and tasted sweet. “Y/n?”
She coughed, choking on her juice, and Harry smirked knowingly. Emma patted her back, “You alright, mate?”
“Yeah, just wrong hole. I slept fine.” Y/n said.
“Hate when that happens.” Harry teased, and she wanted to kick his shin but Emma definitely would’ve noticed.
They all finished their pancakes and after the big breakfast, Emma had an aspirin and told them both she was going back to bed for a nap.
“I might head off then,” Y/n said, she wanted to go home and nap herself. Harry had kept her awake for a good portion of the night after all, and her body was very sore. “I’ll get an Uber.”
“Alright, Babe,” She said hugging her. Y/n kissed her cheek and hugged her back.
“Bye, Babe,” Y/n said with a soft smile.
“Thanks for taking care of me. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Y/n nodded. “Of course, we have to do our monthly movie marathon rain, hail, or shine!”
Emma smiled. “Perfect, get home safe.”
They parted, and Emma went back to her room to sleep. Y/n’s Uber arrived moments later and Harry watched Y/n leave waving with a big devilish grin.
She waved back hopping in the Uber tiredly, as the car pulled away and Harry shut the door, her phone buzzed with a text.
Harry Styles🍒
Can I come over tonight?
Y/n felt a big grin overtake her face.
what on earth for mr. styles?
Harry Styles🍒
Didn’t get to give a you proper goodbye, did I?
Y/n blushed with a small laugh as she typed back.
see u at eight
Harry Styles🍒
See you then Baby X
Y/n bit her lip. What had she gotten herself into?
oh and bring snacks
and that new film u were raving about to niall
Harry Styles🍒
Ok, done. See you tonight. XX
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up similar to last in the kitchen. This was not the Harry she knew, but she didn’t have it in her to complain. She saw flashes of last night of them together and squirmed in her seat.
‘💗💗’ She replied.
When she put her phone down in her lap and stared out at the window she sighed to herself, knowing she was completely done for. Harry had ruined her, she'd never be able to stop thinking about him and last night. However, she had very few complaints about it. Her phone buzzed yet again. She checked it.
Harry Styles🍒 hearted your message.
She smiled even more and shut her eyes, head resting against the leather seat, as she wondered if he was smiling this big too.
#writing#harry#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles au#harry styles fanfiction#harry one shot#harry blurb#harry imagine#harry au#harry fanfiction#harry prompt#harry styles prompt#one direction#1d#harry styles album#meet me in the hallway#sign of the times#carolina#two ghosts#sweet creature#only angel#kiwi#ever since new york#woman#from the dining table#dunkirk#harrys house
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hit first and hit hard || challengers
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ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ: ᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴏɴᴀʟᴅꜱᴏɴ, ᴘᴀᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴢᴡᴇɪɢ, ᴛᴀꜱʜɪ ᴅᴜɴᴄᴀɴ
— fem! reader
summary: the tennis girl weaves her way through simple lover's quarrels and one manipulative blonde boy.
𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦(?), 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴/𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 sleepy 𝘛𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘋𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘯
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ʜɪ! ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏ, ꜱᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ, ʏ'ᴀʟʟ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏ, ꜱᴏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ! ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴇᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏ'ᴀʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ.
🇼🇴🇷🇩 🇨🇴🇺🇳🇹: 7.7k
Read Part One here!
𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙏𝙬𝙤: 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧
𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙁𝙊𝙍𝘿, 𝘾𝘼𝙇𝙄𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙉𝙄𝘼, 2007
𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺
The days following your fight with Art were rife with silence and solitude. Sequestered alone in your dorm, you lay there either working on your piling homework or listening to 'emo'-esque music to help funnel your emotions, but that still didn't help.
As much as you hate to admit it the one thing that did was tennis. Wanting to avoid Art and even Tashi, you went as early as possible. Every morning since the fight for at least a solid week, you got up at 4:30 AM, dressed, jumped the court fence to practice for about 5 hours, and exited just as the other 'early' players showed up.
It invigorated you to be energized early in the day and you sometimes smashed the ball or even your racquet if you felt like it. Being alone wasn't a new circumstance for you but it was certainly novel as of late. You were so used to Art's presence on the court and in your life.
Dinners were spent together, and silly chats you two had were the norm for at least a year. Not to mention the bizarre push and pull with the romantic tension between you two. Even before Stanford, you'd labored to get his phone number, after begging Tashi for a few days and speaking to him on the phone constantly.
Though, the blonde seemed just as ardent as you in your aversion to one another. He had tried calling you multiple times and texting but it was fruitless. You'd picked up the phone once to only put it back down.
⋆★⋆
"I'm so sorry," Art sobbed, he sounded as if someone had stabbed him, "I'm so, so sorry."
You said nothing and stayed neutral. You, unfortunately, picked up the phone after Donaldson had called it 23 times in the past 2 days, and decided the 24th would be the last. It was time to be the bigger person and end the fight between you two.
"Me too, Art." Muttering drily you heard his hiccups stop, and a loud sigh of relief. You could almost feel the weight being lifted off of his shoulders.
He whispered your name softly, "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I wanted to say what I thought you wanted."
A sharp pain shot through your chest as those lethal words left his lips and pure white-hot vexation replaced whatever emotion had been there previously. It was silent between the two of you, which confused the boy.
Art called your name but was interrupted, "You know what I want Art Donaldson?" You roared, "For your fucking castration to be slow and painful!"
⋆★⋆
The poor cutesy, pink Motorola Razr was no longer a phone after the conversation and lay shattered on your floor for days before you finally felt bad and threw it out. Your new one, a hue of bright cherry red, felt much more fitting for this new lifestyle.
Tashi you didn't actually avoid, more like you didn't tell her what was wrong. If beating around the bush was a professional sport you would've left tennis ages ago. Every time you and Tashi would be talking, in your small instants outside of your room or the court that week, Art would approach and you'd immediately give these automated lines;
"Oh shit, Tashi, sorry I got an essay to write!"
"Oops! I forgot I had a thing I have to get to so.."
"It's what time? I gotta go walk my fish!"
Ausispously, these went unnoticed by Tashi because in every single one of the instances you slipped away back to your dorm and to your desolation, without as much as a blink from your friend. If you weren't so content in your loneliness you probably would have been much more uncertain or at least unhappy about her sudden disconnect from you, but chalked it up to Patrick being in town for a longer period.
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𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞
𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞
𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞
𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞
The loud pounds landed dully against your door and woke you up immediately. Your body sat up and the sun's harsh blare into your tiny room flashed in your face, nearly blinding you upon waking up. You frantically glanced around your dorm room, seeing if it was something inside rather than external.
But no, all in your room were your postered walls full of music artists, art pieces themselves, silly photos of you and your friends from home (though most of those photos were overshadowed by Tashi's), and other miscellaneous items that sat around. In the small moment of silence between pounds, you began to slightly enjoy the pleasing sight of how pretty your room looked in the California dawning sun.
However, you were quickly slapped back into reality because the pounding had not ceased; seemingly getting louder if it was imaginable. What the fuck... That specific thought rattled through your foggy brain and your face contorted to deep confusion—even fear. Yet, you finally got the motivation to gradually inch toward the door, not even knowing who the fuck could be on the other side. The door rattled and shook explosively the closer you got until a hand to the handle.
The metal felt cool and smooth under your grasp. Soon flinching at the pounding and slightly wondered how your neighbors didn't get pissed off yet. But, you focused and opened the door.
Then there he was, Patrick Zweig, in all his glory posed in a mid-pound gesture at your dorm room door, staring straight at you.
"Hi,"
"Hey..."
Patrick soon pushed his way past you, walking into your dorm unphased. "Okay, just come right in.." You muttered, shutting the door behind you before turning to him. He stood in the middle of your room, inspecting it like he's the fucking DA. Nevertheless, he looked quite pretty as he was dressed in a simple white t-shirt with some dorky slogan and jorts—fit for California weather.
The silence was palpable between you two, Patrick seemed unbothered, almost jovial, and the signature devilish glint in his eyes. You, in contrast, glared at him like he was the spawn of Satan.
"Don't you look joyful?" Patrick chuckled, a playful smile soon following. Your scowl didn't budge but despite that, he came toward you with arms open wide, and enclosed you in a hug, "I'm certainly happy to see you." His words were muffled in the tangled mess that was your hair at this early of an hour. You hugged back briefly, then pressed him off.
"Pounding at my door at..." You glanced at the digital clock, "Jesus Christ, 7:15 in the morning?!" A small chuckle left Patrick again at his ability to get a rise out of you. You crossed your arms angrily and pinched the bridge of your nose with a sigh.
"Well, I'm eager to see one of my two special girls," He quipped, leaning back on your window sill with a surprising suaveness. That had become his nickname for you and Tashi over the past months. His 'special' girls were his way of flirting with you and getting on your nerves all at the same time. Both he and your best friend found it hilarious.
"Zweig, you have a pretty fucking odd way of showing 'enthusiasm'," A scoff left your lips just as you sauntered to the bathroom that was tangent to your room. The brunette soon followed and leaned on the doorway as you started your routine.
"I adore you, pookie!" A shutter audibly left you when he drawled out the terribly cheesy nickname. That one was the worst.
"Bleugh," You gagged, "Jesus Christ, Patrick why can't you be normal?" Somehow you frowned even deeper if that was even possible.
The boy laughed in reply, "Because who would be around to force you to have some fun?" Patrick looked at you with those eyes, his pretty forestry eyes that have broken hearts all across the country, they were meant for you. It made you want to stare back with your own, basking in it like a summer's day. And that smile, god— his smile was the sun itself. If Art was the ice, Patrick was the fire, the sun. The sun's light could always melt the winter's snow, you assumed he was with Tash for that similar reason. Opposites attract.
You started to feel yourself blush, your mind overthinking and repeating thoughts that all were about him, Patrick.
Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.
Hastily, you rushed to turn on the faucet and started to forcefully wash your face. Hopefully, it would wash away the shame that overtook the sudden rush of emotions for your best friend's boyfriend. Damnit, this is what happens when you don't get laid for a week... Scolding yourself internally, you washed your face and sighed to look back at him. As you expected, his eyes were still on you. But something had changed, the playfulness just wasn't there. It was something else, but you didn't have the time to place it before he looked away.
"So," Patrick spoke your name, "I haven't seen you for my entire time here, and..." He paused for effect, "I missed you."
You gasped dramatically and put a hand to your chest, "Me? Patrick Zweig misses me?" Teasing him with a smile, "What an honor! What's next, I get taken to the Dollar Tree?"
Laughter bounced off the small walls as the two of you were terribly unfunny and it was mutually known. It didn't stop you two from laughing at the stupidity of it. The laughter endured for a moment or two before it died down.
"But really," Patrick started to pull himself together, "I did miss you. Y'know how Art is these days, and Tashi only wants to talk about fucking tennis..." He stepped closer to you, close enough for his hand to slightly caress your free arm. "You're honestly my only friend right now..."
You laugh awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere from his own. Patrick was looking at you, you knew it, but if you looked now you wouldn't be responsible for what you would do after. Self-control was one of the better traits you'd taken from Tashi—you stepped away from his touch and smiled thinly.
"Oh come on Patrick," The shitty tile of your bathroom floor seemed more and more interesting as the seconds passed, "Tashi's just trying to help you." You knew what he was referring to as Tashi complained of Patrick's inability to listen to criticism.
Patrick scoffed at this and rolled his eyes, regardless didn't reply. He dropped the subject, realizing ages ago you'd always choose to defend Tashi over anyone else. He shifted back to his original plan.
"Okay, that's whatever, would you like to go out tonight then?" He asked, his original jovial tone returning, and suddenly like that, everything was okay. The bizarre tension was gone and you could meet his gaze with a knowing face.
"I'll think about it." That answer seemed good enough for Patrick, you witnessed a cheesy exclamation and a terrible fist pump to follow. You sighed at his absurdity but it finally got him out of your doorway as he sauntered back out to your room.
"Great! I'll see you at 8 tonight," He announced, walking toward the door and out the door before he could hear your faint, "Patrick I don't-"
It was suddenly silent in your dorm again. Which, you were grateful for as it meant now you had time to concentrate; you could possibly continue your new 15-step life plan of isolation and become the second-best tennis-female player of all time, Tashi would be the first. Or get black-out drunk tonight and forget all about everything. Each option was very crucial.
A few hours of homework later, you had determined two things like you had done a week ago. One, yes you did need to get black-out drunk, Two, you had to make more male friends that weren't your best friend's boyfriend or said boyfriend's best friend.
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The club was hot and sweaty, it felt as if it'd swallow you whole with the number of people who crowded around you. Dancing, grinding, touching. You hadn't drunk enough alcohol for you to start to enjoy this feeling so off to the bar you went. Patrick followed in tandem, keeping a good trail on you as he was the "designated driver", though you were sure that both of you were going home in a taxi that night.
Patrick ordered a round of 10 shots of assorted types of strong-smelling alcohol and smiled at you, though the smile made you queasy. It exactly mirrored Tashi's smile when she forced you to do shit.
"My favorite girl, pick your poison," The brunette snickered, taking in the blank features that had taken over. "Unless you're a pussy."
"Oh, I'm a pussy?" You raised your eyebrow in defiance, "Please, Patrick, watch and learn." Mirroring his confident smirk, you picked up one random shot and took it back. Then another, and another, and another... Soon there were only 3 shots left for your friend and your tongue started to go numb. The boy laughed at your efforts and followed your lead by taking the rest of the shots.
Shortly, you were on the dance floor, the colored lights seemed so much more welcoming and the touch of strangers felt like a blaze. You drunkenly danced with Patrick, spinning and moving against each other, hands above the waist for both of you as it felt anything but personal. Occasionally you two would make eye contact for too long and would just erupt in giggles and he'd take you for another spin. Patrick knew how to have fun and pulled you along for the ride.
During some Nelly Furtado song, you'd finally gotten fatigued of the club after who knows how long of dancing, drinking, and other illicit activities that involved a certain plant. You tugged at Patrick's collar of his shirt and he stopped his movement.
"Patrick," You slurred, "I wanna go home.." He looked down at your figure and nodded his head. Patrick led you off of the dance floor and finally outside of the club. You clutched onto his shirt on the walk to the car, which honestly felt like miles. Patrick filled the air with little comments about the people who had filled the club and it made you giggle. Though, as drunk as you were anything could've made you laugh.
"Yes! The car!" The grip on his shirt tightened as you through one of your hands in the air in celebration, "I'm so fuckinggg... tired.." You dragged out your constants as you both made your way to the car. Ultimately, it was more like Patrick was walking and you slanted onto him, trotting along.
"Mhm," Patrick hummed, he'd kept one hand on your waist but you hadn't really noticed it. There were many things you didn't notice in your inebriated state.
Patrick, luckily, hadn't drunk as much as you and was sober enough to drive you home. You laid your head comfortably on the window as you observed the blackened city and yellowed road soar past you. It was serene, you and Patrick. It was the first time in the past week you felt a smidge above the bare minimum. Your head was hazy and everything felt so miniature; boxed in.
The ride home was rather reserved, with no one speaking other than you drunkenly giving him directions to your dorm. Eventually, after he had to call Tashi, he stopped in front of the building.
"We're here, Sleeping Beauty," Patrick murmured quietly, slightly nudging you with his hand. When you responded with a groan, he sighed and got out of the car. You perked up a bit and lazily followed his figure until he opened the door. The lack of movement signaled to Patrick that he would be the one to get you out of this car.
Patrick heaved you out of your seat, to your disdain, and he held you close as he closed the passenger door behind you. Your face was squashed in the curve of his neck. He smelt like really lovely cologne and sweat.
Looking up at him, Patrick met your gaze with his own and smiled, "Hi." You smiled back, "Hey.." His hand stayed trained on your waist and you felt that warmth. The fervor you felt that night in the hotel room. It pooled deep inside of you, and it made the stupid smile on your face grow even wider.
"What are you smiling at?" Patrick grinned at your behavior and his hand that had been unlocking the door moved up to cup your cheek. Both of you stood there under the cloak of the night sky, staring foolishly at one another. He softly said your name, "What are you smiling at, pretty girl?"
The tone of his voice was something you'd never be able to interpret in your lifetime. Forgotten among memories and the intoxication, you thought about what led to the position you were in years later, and next to that night in the hotel room, this seemed to be another flick to the dominos collapsing.
Patrick didn't wait for your response, his lips were already on yours. He felt needy in this kiss, it was long and passionate. Your eyes were clenched shut, the euphoria you felt from being so out of it momentarily leaving your body to replace it with stone-cold regret. The kiss was split when you finally pushed one hand to his chest.
"Patrick?" You muttered, "What the fuck?" Patrick's air sobered at your words. He looked at you, the mere panic very visible on his face. Had he fucked up?
"What?" The brunette laughed humorously, "Did I, erm..." He was searching through his lexicon to say anything that could save whatever the hell just happened.
The shame began to quickly devour you, a sickish feeling overtaking your senses. Whatever just happened mortified you to no extent. You staggered back from Patrick, finally meeting his frenzied eyes.
Your eyes started to gloss over and you cried. Tears fell freely down your face as you felt the humiliation slap you in the face. All of it. The humiliation of Art not even liking you, Tashi's carelessness this week, and then this. The culmination of the efforts from the four of you, kissing your best friend's boyfriend. Or rather he kissed you, but what was the true distinction?
"What the fuck Patrick!?" You roughly wiped the tears that continued to fall, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Patrick said nothing, only stared, so similar to his best friend.
"Jesus... The both of you!" You barked, "The both of you two fucking astound me." Your words were sharp and cutting bore into Patrick, apparently, that's what got him.
"What," His voice trailed off as his demeanor only heightened in puzzlement, "What do you mean both?"
"You and your fuck-face friend, that's who!" Your words blended together, as unfortunately, you were still pretty shit-faced. "You and Art fucking around with my head..."
Patrick tensed, "Art's fucking with your head?"
"Yes!" You replied, throwing your hands out in anger, "He's still in love with your girlfriend, and decided to fuck me on the side!"
Patrick's eyebrows raised, he knew Art was trying to manipulate the situation by trying to break him and Tashi apart but he didn't know that you were weaved in here too.
"That's... fucked up." He attempted to comfort you, very awkwardly.
"Yes, it is fucked up Patrick, almost as fucked up as you kissing me." You shot back venomously, narrowing your eyes at him. Patrick went quiet for a beat. He looked at you, looked away, and back at you. He seemed to be deliberating something.
"There's nothing fucked up about it," He finally answered, "I wanted to."
An involuntary gasp slipped from your lips. Your face contorted. "What?"
"I want you."
It felt like a gallon of cold water splashed on you. You stumbled back even further from the boy, your expression no longer confused but mortified.
Thundering down the sidewalk, you callously ran to where you didn't know. You heard Patirck's calls after you but they didn't matter. It wasn't as if he ran after you. The haze from everything that had happened still lingered as you ran. The thoughts bombarded your mind aimlessly, wondering what Patrick meant or what he might say to Tashi.
Tashi...
You'd raced so far that you were there at her dorm, which was seated right next to the tennis courts. Vision hazy, you tumbled into the building. It felt dingy and humid and walking through the corridors you tripped about six times and fully fallen over 3; that didn't stop you though from your destination.
By the grace of god, you handled yourself well enough to place three ordered knocks on Tashi's door, then slump to the floor with a deep sigh. Honestly, you didn't expect her to open the door. You didn't know what time it was but it was late enough into the night (or the early hours of the morning), that the rest of the world was silent.
Everything went silent for a moment as you stared at that wooden door. You focused on a dent in the door itself, right near the handle. You were so immersed in the indentation that you didn't notice the door hinged open.
"Well, well, well... look who it is," Tashi stared down at you with a slight smile. There she was.
"Tashi!" Your mood was instantly lifted at her company and smiled right back. The nastiness, the dread, and the remorse were lifted instantly once you saw her. She let out a sigh once she saw your state— your outfit was skimpy, mascara and eyeliner were smeared all over your face, and you looked like you'd cried a river.
"Christ," She sighed out your name, "Can't you have a good night?"
¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♬·
You and Tashi lay on her bed peacefully, and you exchanged no sentiments in those moments. She'd washed you up from your sordid state and now she was tracing designs in the curve of your hip. Tashi laid her chin on your head and you nestled on her collarbone. This was a frequent situation for either of you, as, during tournaments during your adolescent year, nights were spent braiding each other's hair, swapping secrets with smiles, and just being girls.
"So, are we going to talk about it?" Tashi hummed, staring out into her own cluttered room. Smiling like a fool you replied, "Talk about what?"
"Art, he told me about what happened." She continued, her hand moved from your hip to your hair. Tashi threaded her fingers through it gently and you let out a giggle.
"Pfft, Art.. that stupid, dumb blonde," Laughter filled the room, and you drew your head away from Tashi to meet her. "He's just stupid, that's all."
Tashi held back her own laughter at your intoxicated words, "I see.." You nodded in confirmation and laid back down cuddled back in. "Well, I just wanted you to know that this week I wasn't trying to avoid you," She resumed, "Art just told me about your emotional state, and knowing you, I know you like space."
You hoisted your head again and sneered, "You'd believe that twink?" Tashi giggled and rolled her eyes, "I don't think you can say that anymore," She spoke your name in a scold, "But, yes I did, he's pretty fucking convincing you know."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah... Convincing my ASS," Your eyebrows drew together in irritation at the mention of the boy, "He's stupid, just like the other one.."
Dead air obscured the room again, the only sound being you and Tashi's breathing. The warmth you'd felt from the alcohol returned again, but it felt different. It didn't feel as murky or slowing, it felt good. Yet, the disgrace from earlier was still in the back of your mind. You knew the next day would hold so much bullshit for you and your friend depending on Patrick's efforts or if Art decided to tell Tashi whatever Patrick would recount to him. The involvement of the two boys had made everything so muddled.
"Tashi,"
"Hm?"
"Promise me you'll love me forever?" You asked quietly, finally breaking the tranquility. The voice you had dawned felt foreign to you, it was desperate, vulnerable. Tashi pulled herself away from you to meet your eyes. Her deep sharp eyes scrutinized you with an unreadable gaze.
"What do you mean?" She asked, trying to laugh it off with a dry chuckle.
"I said what I meant," You slurred in reply, a pout, "Will you love me forever?"
Tashi scoffed, "I'm not fucking Mother Theresa," She said your name with a mocking edge. "You're my best friend, I..." Tashi stopped to carefully phrase her words so you could understand in your blitzed condition. "I like you more than any other person on planet Earth."
Your pout formed into a frown, and you stayed silent. Tashi then exhaled wearily, knowing she'd hurt your feelings but didn't say anything. It was a staring contest that you wouldn't win. Tashi did like you a lot, more than she liked her family, friends, and her boyfriend. But she wasn't good at pretending—she couldn't pretend she loved more than one thing. She loved one thing, and one thing only; Tennis.
"Then I'll love you enough for the both of us." That response caught Tashi off guard and she blanked. "I'll love you seeds and all, Tashi Duncan." The announcement of your love for her wasn't on the list of things Tashi thought she would've heard tonight. A nervousness overtook her but you didn't notice, you just stared in determination.
"Seeds and all?" Tashi questioned, her demeanor shifted to something a bit fainter, similar to yours.
"Yes, Tashi, seeds and all," You said it as if it was the most common thing in the world and laid back down. A sudden wave of exhaustion had washed over you, it was so easy to fall asleep. Despite this, Tashi stayed awake and watched you. It wasn't uncommon for you to say sappy shit and for Tashi to combat it with banter, but this felt more amorous; for the first time in the girl's life, she felt confused.
Tashi glanced back down at your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful and pretty. An involuntary grin graced her features as she lay next to you. Her face was inches away from your own, bringing her hand to brush away some stray pieces of your hair to simply stare at you.
"I love you too," The girl muttered your name, kissing the apple of your cheek, turning around to her side of the bed, and falling into a slumber soon after. Tashi had assumed you were sleeping and wouldn't remember it even if you weren't. But, unfortunately for her, you had heard.
Tashi Duncan loved you.
¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♬·
𝘾𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙄𝙉𝙉𝘼𝙏𝙄, 𝙊𝙃𝙄𝙊, 2011
𝘊𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪 𝘖𝘱𝘦𝘯
The hotel bar's music softly played through the speakers, setting a particular homely affection amid the room. A few people were there, tennis players and normal patrons alike, drinking or crying over their loss today. Cincinnati, Ohio was one of the last stops any of these players had of making it to the US Open but unfortunately, they didn't make the cut.
You on the other hand? The 15-step plan was in motion but this time you'd be first. Going pro three years ago was one of the best decisions you'd made, in your life. The dream was cradled in the palm of your hand. Young, beautiful, determined, the brands just ate you up.
Being sponsored by Nike, doing commercials for popular products, and selling out was pretty amicable. The celebrity that came with it was a sweet taste that you sunk your teeth in. People shouted your name on the street and begged for your signature, they wanted you. The only downside was that now and again you'd have to see him.
God, You thought, when was the last time I heard this song... Instead of nursing your drink, you glanced around the room, observing the players. You recognized some from previous competitions and some you'd played today. Suddenly, noticing how everyone had someone to talk to, it was exposing to be the lone person at the bar. At 23 and no man, for now, was a smidge uncomfortable.
So why were you holding her hand?
Is that the way we stand?
Were you lying all the time?
Was it just a game to you...
While scanning the room, you saw her, sitting there with her computer propped up and sporting a shorter hairstyle. A jolt surged through you, you'd seen enough of her today, and you swiveled your head back forward. Another bad move, there he was. The blonde shaggy curls bedazzled you when he strolled in. Art Donaldson walked through the room and the world stopped turning.
Art walked into the bar in search of something. He just didn't know what. For the past few weeks since the Atlanta Open, he'd been on edge; for what he didn't really know. The looming task of the US Open had been teasing him for years, but he was young. He had time to play and win it, this year might just be his year. Though that's what he told himself. The US Open was what he was worried about. Yes, nothing more, nothing less, and absolutely not about certain brunettes.
Art made eye contact with you for a split second. A look flashed across both of your faces, both with varying feelings. Art's face showed an emotion of enchantment, like seeing a rare jewel. You looked like you swallowed sour milk. You shifted your gaze away from him and back to your drink. The alcohol stung your nose.
But I'm in so deep
You know I'm such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger...
Do you have to let it linger?
A shiver strained through you, wondering if the universe was truly trying to get you to buy 30 mg of fentanyl and a bottle of vodka. Art you were used to, both of you were established and young tennis players, it was foretold the two of you would cross paths after that day. Every time it did happen there were formalities exchanged between you two, and then you'd take 4 shots of the choice of alcohol that night and cry.
Art peeked back at you once more before back on his path to Tashi. She was perfect, he had known that fact since the day he met her. Shoved on the pedestal, his fiance typed stormily at her computer, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.
A smile grazed his face, "Hey," He sat down across from her. Tashi barely acknowledged him with a nod. Art sighed and tapped on the rim of her computer, "Hey Tashi..."
Tashi exhaled and lips thinned, "Hi, what's up?" She curtly replied, "I'm working right now on our deal with Nike," Art's confidence slightly buckled under her glare and apparent annoyance with him.
"Oh, well, nothing..." He trailed off with his smile being replaced with a slight pout, unfortunately for Art, this irritated the coach more. "Well, then get out of my face. You have a game tomorrow," She articulated concisely instructed him with a tone a mother would use, "A game you need to win."
Art straightened up a bit, winning was important, he knew that but he missed Tashi. His paranoia surely wasn't helping her curtness as of recently, but he was still relegating it to US Open nerves. He just needed to win and it'd be fine. "Okay," He agreed, "I'll see you upstairs?" The blonde was met with a quick nod, the sound of typing only emitted.
"I love you."
"I know."
Art left the table with a sullen expression on his features, but you didn't know that. Now you were focused on what type of wood the table was, to avoid thinking about when was the last time the three of you were in the same room. Maybe it's maple.... Your thoughts were soon cut off by a buzz from your phone. The iPhone 4 buzzed madly in your pocket and you pulled it out.
It was some random number you didn't have on your phone.
415-xxx-xxxx
𝘏𝘪, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘵, 𝘸𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬.
𝘔𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 3𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳.
𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦.
𝘖𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺.
A miniature smile begged to come onto your features, even texting you could hear the way he'd talk with his comforting, careful diction. But then the meaning of the message settled deep inside you. He wanted to meet you up? Why? Confusion replaced the thick nostalgia as the cogs in your head started to work. It confused you, but you were intrigued. Plus, what was the worst that could happen?
212-xxx-xxxx
𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯
¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♬·
Idily standing in the dingy ice room, you'd start contemplating your life choices. Specifically, the ones that led you to this moment. Why did you approve of this? Why did you go to that fucking bar? You're not even supposed to drink the day before a game. Oh, that's right, you remembered, Patrick Zweig.
♬☆♬☆♬☆
Earlier that day...
The cooling feeling of the concrete against your back felt like pertinent compensation after a day of sprinting around in the sun. You'd finally made it to the semi-finals after dominating through the bracket, some you'd played against during earlier tournaments, others were just painless to beat and move on to the following one. Nonetheless, the girl you'd just played had given you a run for your money. Not because she was good, but because you were distracted.
Tashi Duncan, coach of the FAMOUS Art Donaldson, observed your match. You'd noticed her when perusing the stands after the first game when you were looking for your friend who had come to cheer you on. Seeing her was the biggest mistake of your game, serve after serve it'd either be out or barely touched the net. It was utterly embarrassing and you'd lost the second game by 15 love. When it was the break you'd skimmed only to find her gone.
It pissed you off. Who the fuck does she think she is? You clenched your water bottle angrily, your knuckles shy of a shade lighter than normal skin tone. The spite of Tashi leaving your game (or so you thought) had lit that flame that you doused years ago. The flame of insecurity produced by Tashi Duncan.
You were relentless against the girl, hitting the ball with your full strength each and every time. An intense volley had occurred in the middle of the game, so intense that your opponent fell face forward in an attempt to catch the shot (she did not). The stadium was silent other than the loud sounds of your grunts and anger. It was hotter than the concrete you played on but just as hard. It pissed you off so much that when you won, instead of your normal self-indulgent bow, you smashed your racquet to the floor and a roar. The crowd scarfed it down, hailing you as a passionate and beautiful player, tenacious against competition.
In all honesty, you just wanted to go home and cry, but you were hustled off the court to where you are now. Stranded in the hallway and lying in your muddled emotions. It was now the men's bracket, but you didn't plan on watching anyone. Particularly Donaldson. Yet, trying to make it out of the vacant hallway, a familiar face entered your vision.
"There's the golden girl!" No words in a dictionary could express the face you made at that moment.
"Oh my..." You muttered under your breath, turning around to see Patrick Zwieg, in all of his sleazy glory. "What in the ever-loving fuck are you doing here Patrick?"
Patrick laughed with faux hurt, "Aw, aren't you just a ball of sunshine!" He tried to get closer to you but you edged back. He gauged your expression and sighed, "And here I thought you'd be happy to see me..."
You scoffed in disgust, "Christ Patrick, seeing you is like seeing a dog with cancer, it should be put down already." The brunette's lips pulled into a smirk, he crossed his arms and gave an irksome look.
"Well, I'm not a dog," He corrected, "I'm a cat and we got 9 lives." An exasperated sigh left your lips, your eyes meeting his with a tiredness. After the mind-fuck of seeing Tashi, you had no bandwidth for Patrick's bitchiness.
"I don't fucking care, Patrick," You hissed, finally starting back on your walk. Patrick started to slightly slip from his confidence, he hadn't expected this. He usually was able to keep you around for a good banter but you'd genuinely just stopped it this time. To keep you from going he snatched your forearm, keeping you from going any further.
Your glare deepened, "Let me go!" He didn't budge and kept you in place, although you started struggling to try and escape his strong grasp.
Patrick spoke your name calmly, "I just want to talk..." He sounded like he was talking to a feral cat. Grunting and now starting to whine, you struggled in an attempt to get away from him and this conversation.
"About what? How you fucked over my best-" You stopped yourself, the word 'friend' died on the tip of your tongue. You two weren't friends, you hadn't been for years. Patrick caught this moment of vulnerability and used this.
"Friend? Please, she left you once you got better," He goaded with a sinister grin, "She couldn't stand that you could play and she couldn't."
The struggle became relentless as you started to shout for 'help' but it was useless. You were isolated. The best you'd gotten was dragging Patrick an inch or two across the floor, no escape was foreseen. A thin line formed on your lips as you glared.
"Shut up Patrick, don't fucking project your bullshit with Art on me,' You spat venomously, "He won, you're fucking losing, so what?"
Patrick chuckled drily, "Won what? The match? In case you forgot I won that-"
"NO!" You cut him off with a shout, "God no Patrick, he won at life. He's getting married to the girl you, and only you Patrick, lost because you're a dipshit." Face contorted into one of pure hatred for the man in front of you, and his hold finally slackened for you to draw your arm back.
Patrick rolled his eyes, "Newsflash, I slept with the girl I lost like.." He stopped speaking to count on his fingers, "Three weeks ago!" A triumphant and smug smirk graced his features.
"Great, so you can add home-wrecker to your tennis accolades?" You raised a brow and scoffed again, "You astonish me Zweig, you really do."
Patrick's grin didn't budge, "I aim to please," He did feel quite pleased with himself, and was even more pleased because he confidently believed you were jealous. Jealous that Tashi Duncan slept with him again and you didn't. He was sorely mistaken.
A heavy breath was taken in and you became focused. You knew exactly what you wanted to say to him, "Patrick, you may've fucking one that on match, let's say a battle." You began harshly, "But you didn't win the war, Art did."
Coming closer to Patrick to look him square in the eye, "Art is going to marry Tashi, he won. He will continue to win and be remembered." Patrick clenched his fists to try and calm himself, your words cutting in like serrated blades, "Who will you be Patrick?"
The question echoed throughout Patrick's mind, but you didn't waste time on his reply. Quickly, you stormed away after and resolved that the finest thing to do was to drink this moment away.
♬☆♬☆
A disgusted exclamation softly left your lips as you remembered that instant from today. Patrick always knew how to rile you up, to push your buttons until they'd break. At this point, you thought he enjoyed pissing you off. However, your internal monologuing was cut off by approaching footsteps. Darting up from the checkered carpeted floor, the blonde approached.
Art felt his palms begin to sweat when he saw your languid figure up against the vending machine. You looked so effortlessly beautiful to him, even when looking like you wanted to kill him. He sauntered into the small corridor and shut the door behind him.
Then, he pivoted around to face you. A hush swallowed both of you. It had been the first time you two were alone in around 3 years, at least. Art looked nervous meanwhile you looked disinterested.
"So?" You asked expectantly, "What did you need to talk about?" Art uncoiled and bit his lip. What did he want to talk about again..?
"Oh uhm.." He stuttered, "Hi, so..." Art desperately combed his mind for an answer, "I just saw you and I..." He coughed awkwardly and shifted his weight, "I just wanted to know how you were."
You took a deep breath and then let out a sigh, "Great, so you wanted to waste my time?" Art visibly flinched at your response and his lips twitched in apprehension.
"No, I just missed you," He asserted quickly, trying to meet your tone. Art's deep blue eyes met your own and something tugged at your heartstrings. "We both missed you."
"We?" A wiry laugh echoed in the room, "I don't think Tashi misses me, Arthur, but a cute way of guilt-tripping me." You cooed mockingly with a smirk. A sour expression fell across Art's countenance at the use of his full government name.
Sighing, he leaned against the wall and; after a beat spoke, "We watched your name today," Art stared at you intensely, "You were good, but what fucked you up during the second game?"
You clenched your fists, annoyed that he had been there too. "I don't know, it's called none-ya."
"What's none-ya?" He asked, confused by your retort.
"None of ya fucking business, Donaldson," You shot, "We aren't friends, we don't have tea parties and talk about fucking tennis."
"Well," Art started calmly, holding himself together, "Why don't we talk about anything but tennis?" You smiled fakly at his offer and stepped toward him, the height difference not really being too big, close enough to meet eye to eye.
"Then why the hell are we talking, Art, if we're not talking tennis?"
Art was silenced by your reply and stared down at the floor. He understood why you were acting the way you were, you were hurt. Aching. He would be too if he were in your shoes. The boy knew it wasn't him that should be talking to you. If anything would be solved between you and him, it'd first have to be solved between you and his fiance.
So, he looked back up at you, "I don't know why are we still talking?" The way Art said your name triggered some deep-buried emotions you had killed many years ago along with your insecurities. It was the seductive, whiny nature of Art Donaldson that kept you awake during the hard, lonely nights and right now it was your reality.
The space between you two was barely existent, lips almost touching... Your phone buzzed. The moment was ruined instantly and you quickly plucked out your phone. It was your coach, texting you verbatim to 'GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP, NOW!' with five angry emojis.
Art's eyes searched your movements as you read the message. He was so intent on solving or fixing things with you tonight that he hadn't acknowledged that other outside forces could interfere. When he saw you play today and then back at the bar? It fell into place for him, he just had to have you again. He had to. He deserved it right?
You shoved Art aside and opened the door, focused on now going to sleep and preparing for your game tomorrow. Simply put, you didn't have time for stupid boys like Art Donaldson who wanted to play tennis with two balls. It was ineffective.
But, just as you were down the hallway he shouted, "Tashi misses you!" You ignored him, "She told me to tell you."
"Tell her," Turning around so he could directly hear you, "Tell her that she can go fuck herself, and," You had stopped speaking, storming off to right in front of the man, "Go fuck yourself too." It was easy to snatch the collar of his old grey hoodie and capture him in a kiss.
The clash of lips was a brutish one, Art being caught off guard and you kissing forcefully as if he was the last thing on earth. His hands traveled to your jaw and let you take control of the kiss.
It was a longer one, almost juvenile, letting yourself clash teeth or slightly push up against him. You finally pulled away, his bottom lip sliding through your teeth slowly, keeping eye contact while it bounced back in place.
The both of you were flushed a deep crimson, now both frustrated and sexually frustrated you let out an exclamation of anger and strode furiously down the hall, into the stairway.
There left was Art, his attempts hopeless and now he was alone. His hand shakily rose to his lips where you had just been. Fingers gently grazing his lip before letting out a shaky sigh. It'd been forever since he'd been caught so off-guard, it shook him inside. You always did, pushing his own buttons instead of yours. Art was always susceptible to your touch and words.
Yet, frowned when he thought of the way you had spoken to him tonight. You had become so jaded, so much more.. mean. It reminded him of how Tashi used to talk back at Stanford. Before the injury. How confident she was, somehow more than now, and how she had the world at the tips of her fingers. Art silently wished he'd handled that day differently than he did. But, deep down, he knew he didn't. Art got what he wanted at the end of the day, wasn't that beautiful?
ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2
Hi! I really hope you guys liked this chapter, I really wanted to explore the character dynamics more and just flesh out the relationships. It'll get spicy, trusttt!
Please like or comment!! I would love to hear what y'all think or want for the plot, you guys were literally so, so nice in the last part!
Thank you for reading <3
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@jackierose902109
@bloodyrevengedbullets
@ssababe
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#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#tashi duncan x reader#tashi duncan#patrick zweig x reader#challengers 2024#challengers x reader#art donaldson smut#tashi donaldson#x reader#fem reader#patrick zweig#challengers#love square#challengers fanfic
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Cherry Baby
Pairing: f!reader x Mingi x Yunho
Genre: smut 18+, light angst, fluff
Summary: your best friends would do everything for you but would they even get you pregnant?
Notes: sub!reader, dom!yungi, best friends, unprotected sex (always be safe), reader gets pregnant, anxiety, crying, lactation kink, big dick yungi, pregnancy sex, threesome, yungi is obsessed with your tits, boob sucking, mingi drinks your milk, kissing, pet names (honey & darling), pussy play, cum cum cum, blowjob, titty fucking, aftercare, lots of love. may have forgot something!
a/n: this is an idea I’ve had in mind for a long time (cause omg!!) and I finally got motivated to write it. it begins kinda soft but then my period hormones kicked in.. :)
words: 1.8k
Imagine that Mingi and Yunho had been your best friends for almost half your lifetime, they’d become your family members and they did everything for you and that includes taking care of your needs too.
you were in your last year of collage and the boys were two years older than you so they’d got their own jobs. since you’re so close you had decided it was a better idea to get an apartment together rather than live in three different places, cause you always hung out and it was cheaper to split the costs.
you came home late one day cause you’d been drowning in books from morning until now, not a single light was on which meant the boys were either sleeping or out doing stuff. the darkness didn’t do well with your tired eyes and you tripped over the carpet and bumped your head in the shoe stand. a few curses left your mouth while you got up trying to find the light switch.
at the same time you could hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and the light turned on, the bright lights cut right into your poor eyes. you were met with a tired Mingi, his hair looked like a bird’s nest and his pyjamas pants hung low on his hips.
“you’re home now? where have you been?” he asked while trying to open his eyes properly. “I’ve been at school reading and studying all day and all I wanna do now is find my bed” you almost cried out. Mingi gave you a big hug squeezing you tight into his warm bare chest, it was his way to show you how much he cared about you and you loved him for that. he walked you to your room and kissed you goodnight, but before he reached the door you already wanted him back.
“can’t you stay?” you whispered not knowing if he would hear you. Mingi came to an halt and turned around, a tired smile formed on his face as he walked back towards your bed. “of course I can” he slipped under the covers with you and brought you close to his body. your heart skipped a beat and you could feel how you got closer and closer to dreamland.
since it was your last year many days would look like this, you would study and then come home late and end up sleeping with both Mingi and Yunho. none of you had nothing against it cause it just felt so right and you were so safe with each other as well.
until one night when you ended up with both of them in your bed, they were taking turns fucking you hard into the mattress, the bed frame squeaking with every trust, and you did get complaints from your neighbours the next day. it was the first time you had sex with both boys at the same time… and because you never used condoms it resulted in something unexpected (well not really).
lately you had been feeling very sick and your hormones had been kinda wild too, both Mingi and Yunho had begun to notice the sudden change and had to ask you one day if it was what they thought.
they joined you on the couch and asked you right away. “y/n? are you alright?” Mingi put a hand on your thigh brushing the thumb slowly over the skin. you furrowed your eyebrows together at the sudden question. “we’ve noticed that you’re nauseous often and more moody than usual” Yunho cut in. you could feel how your eyes began to tear up and the tension in your body got hotter, you were about to explode. “are you?” Yunho looked you in the eyes waiting for an answer he already knew. you began to cry and the anxiety took over, your breathing got shorter and faster and your mind went blurry, it felt like you would pass out any second. you were comforted by your big bears, they hugged you tightly and did their best to calm you down.
“it’s gonna be alright, we’re here with you” Mingi kissed your forehead. Yunho dried your tears and kissed your cheek “we won’t leave you, we knew there would be a risk when we didn’t use condoms”. they always made you get both feet back on earth and you could feel a little more relaxed after hearing their words. “who’s is it?” Mingi brushed a hair behind your ear. “I don’t know” you whispered. “it doesn’t matter, we’ll both take care of the baby” Yunho gave you a smile. “do you want anything?” you were silent for a while trying to think of anything. “maby those haribo cherries you love so much?” they really knew you so well and you couldn’t help but to break out in a joy of laughter.
- 4 months later -
Yunho were hovering over you thrusting deep into your pussy as he dragged out soft moans from you, he placed small kisses on your neck down to your swollen breasts, small droplets of milk spilled out as he began to squeeze them. “I swear it’s so damn hot when you leak” Yunho grunted as he sped up his thrusts. Mingi were kissing you passionately, your tongues dancing together making your body tingle. ever since you got pregnant all you wanted was to get your pussy destroyed by their big cocks and they were sure to give it to you.
they loved giving you everything you asked for, hugs, comfort, advice, food, kisses and of course sex, lots of it.
Yunho buried his face in the crook of your neck and his breathing became heavier, his thrusts got sloppier. your eyes were shut tight enjoying every single second of your intimate time together, a sudden wave of pleasure washed over you as you felt Yunho guide his hand down to your clit. he slowed down his thrusts and focused more on your swollen bud, holding himself up with one hand he looked down at your pussy and then back on your face giving you a smirk. “are you gonna cum for me honey?” he raised an eyebrow at you, now flicking your bud harder. you gave him a nod biting your lower lip, the tension in your abdomen about to burst any moment.
Mingi helped you chase your orgasm, he latched on to your sore leaking nipples and you felt how your mind got completely blank. attacking your neck Yunho let go of your clit and pushed his cock deeper touching the right place for you to finally cum. riding out your orgasm he fucked you harder to get his own release, it didn’t take many thrusts until a deep broken groan left his mouth, his dick twitched and you felt a hot wave of cum entering your pussy. Mingi let go of your nipples, milk running down his chin, Yunho gave your nose a kiss before he pulled out and went for a towel to clean you up with.
Mingi did a quick run to the kitchen and came back with a bag of cherry gummies. “you deserve this now for being a good girl” he whispered giving you a kiss. you rested your back against the headboard and opened the pack of your favourite gummies, Yunho came back from the bathroom with a warm towel and gently cleaned up the cum on your inner thighs, he gave your belly bump a kiss followed by a soft smile. you catched an eye on Mingi and he met you with a smile, his dimples showing.
“you didn’t get your turn..” you gave him a pout putting another gummy in your mouth. “it’s alright darling, you need some rest now” he said squeezing your thigh. deep down you knew he suffered on the inside cause your horny boy loved to fuck, he always wanted you to go first before his own needs. you put the bag away and got up from the bed placing yourself on your knees in front of the bed, both of them watched you with big eyes at your sudden action. you tapped the edge of the bed for Mingi to sit and he did as he was told, you didn’t let a second go to waste as you grabbed the hem of his sweats and pulled them down with his boxers. his thick cock slapped against his stomach and was leaking precum at the tip, he groaned as you slowly began to lick his irritated head, your hand pumping him too.
Mingis hands went to grab your hair guiding you up and down his enormous length, he let his head fall back and he bit his lip so hard he could taste blood. “fuck just like that, mmh”. you sucked him faster and harder and you could already feel how his cock twitched in your mouth, you let go of his dick with a pop and kissed the tip “it tastes like cherries” you licked your lips. Mingis eyes rolled back into his head, his large hands cupped your breasts and squeezed them to make you leak more milk. “you have a thing for lactation huh?” you teased him as you played with them. the boy swallowed hard and you could see how his pupils got dilated, his sex brain was on hard drive.
you took your breasts in your hands and put Mingis cock between them, up and down you fucked his cock with your tits. his eyes were glued to the pornographic scene in front of him, you made him into a groaning mess. you pumped him one last time before he came on your chest, neck and chin. you got up to give him a kiss, tasting a mix of himself and cherry gummies. “we have to get you pregnant more often” Mingi said laughing trying to catch his breath. you gave him a not so amusing glare but you knew he was joking.
Yunho had changed into his sleeping shorts and he gave you his oversized shirt for you to sleep in, it was oversized for him so you almost drowned in it. both of you got to bed and cuddled for a while, his large hand caressing your belly. “can’t wait to meet this little one” he looked at you with eyes filled of love. Mingi got back and joined you under the warm covers.
there you were between the two most important people of your life and to soon be fathers to your baby, it couldn’t be better. “you’re gonna be the best daddies” you giggled. they couldn’t help but laugh at your comment. “you’re gonna be an excellent mommy” Yunho smiled at you. “we love you both so much” Mingi said rubbing your baby bump.
you stayed like that for a while before you all drifted off to sleep, all four of you.
#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez smut#kpop smut#mingi x reader#mingi#mingi ateez#yunho#ateez yunho#yunho x reader#yungi x reader#yungi smut#yungi
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p. nerd!jisung x femcheerleader!reader x cheerleader!felix | warnings: threesome, kissing, handjobs, blowjobs, mxm themes | words: 0.7k ~ (725) 🐿️🐥ㆍ₊⊹
request: if you do threesomes any two stray kids members please 🫶🏻 ( i really like your work.)
authors note. thank you my luv❤️ i hope you like it
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
you and your other cheerleader friend felix bringing back nerd jisung under the pretense of “hanging”
of course jisung was skeptical; both of he never even talk to any of you before today— he never really talked to anyone actually; he stayed to his lonesome, reading a book or doing works that won’t be due for another week or two, so when you and felix approached his lunch date asking for him to hang out after school, he was certain you two were playing with him— and he was wrong per say, you both were toying with him, but that was simply because you both wanted him.
you and felix loved nerds like jisung; wide eyes but never knows what’s going on around them type of guys — jocks never really did anything for the boy of you, but jisung did, and you both wanted to get your hands on him.
like usual jisung didn’t know what was happening, both of you sitting on your bed, he sat awkwardly on the end, watching you both talk about cheer and other stuff he really wasn’t interested in; he clutched the sheets, trying not to eye your legs in your shorts— biting his lips nervously as he kept focusing on the way felix’s lips moved, or the way his hand rested comfortably on your thigh.
“come here.” you finally acknowledged him. “come sit up here with us.” felix coaxed him up. “we invited you to hang out with us and you’re sitting so far away.” he slowly made his way to you two, sitting in between the both of you. “comfy?” you smiled, he nodded; cheeks rosy. “you’re so cute, you know that?”
“n-no.” he stuttered feeling your pink stiletto nails scratching his thigh, felix chuckled. “why are you so nervous jisung?” he questioned. “its just us.” It was felixs turn to put his hand on the other one. “just relax.”
he let out a sigh upon feeling your glossed lips touch his neck. “you’ve never had someone kiss you like that have.” Felix whispered, his hand finally coming to his pants, cupping his cock. “touch you down here?” jisung shook his head, you sucked little marks in his neck. “no-no.”
you smiled against his skin, of course he was a virgin. “you like the way felix is touching you?” you purred in his ear. “can i touch you too?” he moaned as felix unzipped his pants. “i-if you want to.” his eyes followed felix’s hand go into his underwear, touching him. “he’s so hard.”
Jisung felt like he was in heaven as both of your hands worked on his cock, stroking it, both of you kissing each side of his neck, he’s never felt anything like this before. “th-that feels really good.” he whimpered. “yeah?” you pulled away from his neck. “felix how about we make him feel even better?”
felix groaned, pulling away from him as well. “fuck yeah.” felix reached over, kissing you, your lips messily moving against each other; it was natural to you both, you often engaged in things together, no one could satisfy you like each other could. “wh-what are you gonna do?”
you both smiled at each, pushing his legs apart. “make you feel good.” he didn’t know what that meant until he felt both of your lips on his cock. “oh my.” he gasped as you licked his tip. “he taste good.” felix took him into his mouth much like you did. “fuck that feels good.” you licked a stripe up the base his length, meeting felixs mouth at the tip; jisung was gonna blow his load, all of this was just too hot for him; only an hour ago he’d only touched himself a few times, but this was different, both of you working on his cock; taking turns stroking and sucking, making all while making out each other. “i’m gonna cum.” he whimpered.
you both felt his cock twitch, he let out a moan, cum spurting from his mushroom tip, landing on both your faces. “fuck.” Jisung cursed, he’d never cum this much before; and he was still hard. “awe lixie.” you pouted, jisung thought you looked innocent, despite his cum all over your face. “he’s still hard.”
“that’s because he hasn’t had that pretty pussy yet, just wait.” felix said, you moaned feeling felix touch your clothed cunt. “maybe you should fuck him first, let him feel your big cock.” jisung moaned. “tell us baby what do you want first?” you purred. “my cock or her pussy?” jisung didn’t care at this point, he wanted it all. “b-both.”
you turned to each other. “he’s naughty, i like him.” You said. “lets keep him.” felix nodded. “whatever you want pretty.” He watched you get naked, whispering against jisungs neck. “lets fuck him yn , before i explode.” you straddled his lap, kissing his nose, both of you watching felix undress. “you’re ours now.” your finger traced his jaw. “gonna let us use you whenever we want?” jisung nodded. “pl-please use me.”
jisung didn’t know what you both meant by that, but he didn’t care, he wanted both of you— right now. “good boy.” felix groaned stroking his cock.
“cause we’re gonna drain for everything you got baby boy.”
©️LUVYENI
#kpop x reader#kpop smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#skz hard hours#stray kids hard hours#stray kids hard thoughts#skz hard thoughts#skz smut#stray kids drabbles#skz x female reader#skz x reader#han jisung smut#han jisung scenarios#han jisung x reader#han jisung hard thoughts#han jisung hard hours#felix x reader#lee felix scenarios#lee felix smut#lee felix hard thoughts#lee felix hard hours
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Whipped
Hockey player! Harry x Figure skater! Y/n
there are references to a previous oneshot. read here for more context!
"You comin' out tonight, Captain?"
Harry shut his locker as he shrugged into his t-shirt, water droplets spraying as he shook out his freshly washed hair. Rubbing some of the stray droplets off his face, he said, "Not tonight, boys. It's date night."
His teammates groaned in protest, a regular occurrence when Harry declined to go out with them. He shook his head at their collective disappointment, amused because when he did go out they typically got too hammered or went off in search of someone to hook up with.
"You'll be fine without me, I promise," Harry assured as they walked out of the locker room together.
"It's the principle of the thing," one of his teammates, Matt, said. He was new to the team this year, a transfer from a different school. "You never come out with us."
"That's not true!"
It wasn't true, was it? Harry had opted out of the last couple parties, preferring to take his girlfriend on a date or have a night in with her. Y/n wasn't overly fond of parties, and rightfully so after what she'd experienced a couple years ago, but even then Harry had begun to prefer their quiet nights together over a rager on Greek Row.
"It is. You're always with your girlfriend," another teammate said, making it sound like an accusation.
"Watch it," Harry said, his voice clipped, not having much tolerance for anyone who spoke badly about Y/n.
"Speaking of," Niall said, nodding to where Y/n waited by her car, her head dipped as she typed something on her phone.
Harry's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, a smile involuntarily finding its way onto his face. "So fucking whipped," Matt muttered as Harry walked over to Y/n, the rest agreeing, making their own jokes at their captain's expense. Harry merely flipped them off as he walked away from them, shaking as his head as he returned his focus back on his girl.
"What was that all about?" Y/n asked, looking over at Harry's teammates with a raised brow.
"Nothing, they're just giving me a hard time about not going out with them tonight," he explained, tossing his duffle bag in the back of Y/n's car.
"Oh," Y/n said. "Do you want to go out with them? We can take a raincheck for tonight."
That was what he loved about Y/n. What Harry's teammates didn't understand was that his girlfriend wasn't telling him not to go out. Y/n never got mad at him if he wanted to celebrate a win at a party , she knew his team was a close knit group. But Harry found himself preferring spending time with her than with the boys. Did that make him a shitty teammate? He didn't think so. Did it mean he was whipped? Maybe, but he didn't really see a problem with that. Not when being with Y/n made him so happy.
"Don't worry about them," Harry said, pulling Y/n as close as she could possibly get. "They're just jealous they don't get to spend the night with the hottest girl at our school."
Y/n started to laugh, but his mouth was already on hers, effectively ending the conversation.
*.*
Away games meant hours spent on a stuffy bus full of immature hockey players. When Harry was just a freshman, he was delegated to the back , forced to share seats with the other underclassmen while the juniors and seniors all stretched out across seats closer to the front of the bus, far, far away from the bathroom.
Now that Harry was both a senior and team captain, he got his pick of whatever row he wanted on the bus. He usually opted to sit up front, Zayn in the aisle across from him and Niall the one behind. In the hours leading up to arriving at their opponent's rink, Harry spent his time listening to music, getting himself in the zone to lead his team to victory. It was why he chose to sit in the first few rows of the bus closer to the coaches so he could focus.
Around hour two into their trip, Harry reached for the paper bag that had his lunch.
In the past, Harry went with a teammate or two to grab something to eat before getting on the bus, but after Harry had complained a couple times to Y/n that a burrito followed by an hours-long bus ride was a habitual mistake, she began to pack him a lunch. He didn't ask, and she never said anything about it. The first time he found a brown paper bag in their shared apartment, Y/n merely shrugged and said, "I already pack my own for competitions, it's no big deal."
"What'you got over there, Styles?"
But it was. It was her little ways of showing she cared. Harry learned early on in their relationship that Y/n had a hard time expressing herself with words, but she made up for it in gestures, like packing him an away game lunch and leaving little notes in them for him to find.
Harry perked up at the sound of his name to find one of his teammates standing in the aisle of the bus, eyes alight as he observed the brown paper bag in Harry's lap.
"What does it look like, Matt? It's a bag lunch," Zayn chimed in, having pulled one of his headphones off his ears.
"Please tell me Y/n isn't packing you lunch before games," Matt teased. "Is she your girlfriend or your mom?"
A few teammates who had been listening laughed and joined in on ribbing their captain, but Harry merely rolled his eyes. Matt had had a lot to say about his relationship recently. Nothing overly rude or offensive, but it was often enough that it was starting to become a "thing," and that Harry definitely didn't want.
"Y/n made you lunch? Can she make me one next time? What's in it?" Niall asked, who had previously been dozing against the window.
Ignoring Matt, Harry showed Niall the lunch Y/n made—a chicken wrap on a whole wheat tortilla, trail mix, a banana, hummus and pita bread, and a drink with electrolytes. The contents varied each time, but it was always healthy and filling, and Harry honestly felt better as he got off the bus than he used to.
"That a note?" Niall murmured so Matt wouldn't hear, having moved onto another topic toward the middle of the bus.
Harry reached for the folded piece of paper scattered among the food in his lap, trying to be discreet. "Good luck today, bub! xoxoxo" it read, and Harry quickly folded it back up and shoved it into his trouser pocket.
"How things have changed since you first met," Niall said with a chuckle, punching Harry's arm lightly.
"I'm not so sure. I think she likes to embarrass me more than anything else with this stuff. It's definitely working."
"Matt's an idiot, ignore him," Niall said, and Harry was inclined to agree. "You gonna eat that pita bread?"
Later that night, Harry trudged through the apartment, his duffle bag sliding off his arm in a heap by the front door. "Baby?" Harry called, noting the lights on in the apartment but no girlfriend. "You in the shower?"
Harry swatted his friend's hand away before he could snatch his lunch.
*.*
"Over here!" she said, her voice coming from their shared bedroom.
Harry loosened his tie as he walked down the hall toward his room, ready to be rid of his game-day clothes. He never understood why the team had to wear suits before and after games, especially after. The very last thing he wanted to do after playing a hockey game was wear a dress shirt and slacks.
Not paying attention, Harry began undressing, shedding his suit jacket first, carefully hanging it up the way he knew his girlfriend would appreciate. When he turned around, he finally noticed her.
"What's this?" he asked, eyes roaming Y/n's bare legs appreciatively. She laid on the bed in just his home jersey, the hem hiked up high enough that Harry could see a hint of lace from her underwear.
"Just a little something for your big win," Y/n said, a grin that said she could read every ounce of desire on his face.
She started to stand up on her knees, to go to him, Harry assumed, but he stopped her. "Wait. Stay right there."
He could feel Y/n's eye roll as Harry whipped his phone out of his back pocket, fumbling around until he had his camera pulled up. As he focused his phone on her, she didn't look amused, but there was a glint in her eye that told him she thought he was an idiot.
"You do this every time I surprise you in bed," she remarked, flipping Harry off when he started moving around for better angles
"Need a new screensaver," he said by way of explanation, doing just that before he set his phone down.
"Get over here before I decide to put pants on."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, quick to ditch his own trousers before joining his girlfriend on the bed.
*.*
A couple weeks later, Harry was finally at a party. His teammates were there, along with Y/n and a couple of her friends. Y/n, who still got tense at large house parties, stayed close to Harry's side the whole night, not eager to venture anywhere without him. He didn't mind, of course, in fact quite the opposite. As they sat around a bonfire in the house's backyard, Y/n sat on Harry's lap, his arms circled protectively around her waist. She had been perfectly fine with sitting beside him, but he'd pulled her onto his lap before she could.
"How are you always so warm?" he murmured, nuzzling his nose past her hair and against the skin of her neck. "Hm? You're like a little furnace."
"Stop that! Pay attention to the game," Y/n said, still leaning into his touch.
Her hands rested over his, warming his skin caused by the chilly autumn air. Harry was in a chunky cable knit sweater, but the cold still pierced his skin, making him squeeze his girlfriend tighter. That and the pleased giggle that came out of her mouth when he kissed the back of her neck.
"Hey, lovebirds! Feel like rejoining us anytime soon?"
Harry peeked out from behind Y/n, grinning cheekily at his friends, who were also sitting around the bonfire. Before he could say anything, Niall shouted from his seat over the music, "You guys are so in love it's gross."
The lighting outside was dim, the fire casting an orange glow over everything, but Harry could tell Y/n was blushing as the rest of their friends teased them playfully. It was no secret to Harry how his girlfriend felt, but she was more reserved than he was, and he knew it was a lot for everything to be out in the open, even so far down the line.
"He's fucking whipped, is what he is!"
Harry heard Matt's voice scattered throughout the others, and he could hear the slight edge to his tone. He wasn't quite sure what his teammate's problem was, or why he felt the need to comment on Harry's relationship all of a sudden, but it was starting to get on Harry's nerves.
Not having heard the bite that Harry did, his friends laughed. Y/n didn't, though, merely smiling at him as she squeezed his hand affectionately. "Don't let them get to you, bub," she murmured before standing up from his lap. He felt the loss of her warmth immediately, but didn't pull her back down to him. "I'm gonna head inside to go to the bathroom."
He didn't know if she actually had to, but Harry saw the offer to escape for what it was and took it. "I'll go with you," he said, standing up himself and taking her hand in his. They were almost to the sliding door that would lead them back to the house when Matt spoke, his voice rising above the rest and making them both stop.
"Seriously? You can't be alone for five minutes? For God's sake, let him off his leash, Y/n."
Anger coursed through Harry's veins immediately, but he did his best to push it aside to focus on his girlfriend, whose face was carefully blank.
"Sorry, what was that?" Y/n asked, slowly turning around to face him. Harry instantly read the look on her face. It was the same one she wore when he forgot to switch out his laundry or wash the dishes.
Matt stupidly doubled down instead of backing off. Niall and a couple of Harry's friends tried to stop him, understanding Y/n's anxiety about being left alone at parties, but he didn't listen.
"Never in a million years did I think our team captain would be so whipped for some—some—"
"Stop before you embarrass yourself," Y/n said, her voice not wavering once. "Maybe if your head wasn't so far up your own ass, you'd know I don't make Harry do anything, like you seem to believe. If he doesn't want to hang out with you, then that's his business, but honestly I don't blame him. You kind of suck."
Matt looked at Y/n in disbelief, mouth open but no words came out. Then he looked at Harry, as if his captain would offer some assistance, but Harry didn't do anything of the sort.
"Don't look at him, you're dealing with me now," Y/n said, stepping toward Matt. "And before you make some stupid fucking-ass comment about him being a bitch letting me fight his battles, save your breath. You started this, I'm ending it. Suck a dick and keep my name out of your mouth."
That's when Harry stepped in. He loved that Y/n was defending him on his behalf, but Matt was a good two heads taller than her, and his teammate had had a few. He didn't think Matt would get physical, but Harry was starting to realize Matt wasn't really a stand up guy.
Then, Matt muttered, "Fuck this," before storming back inside the house. The backyard was uncomfortably quiet for a moment, no one quite knowing what to say. That was until Niall said, "Well, that went about how I expected."
Harry let out a relieved chuckle, his free hand running through his hair. When everyone went back to their own conversations, he focused his attention back on his girlfriend, who hadn't said a word since Matt left.
He knew it took a lot for her to do that, that as confident as she was, Y/n still got anxious, especially in a setting like this. Squeezing her hand once, which had begun to tremble just slightly, Harry murmured quietly in her ear, "Let's go home, baby."
With a stiff nod, Y/n agreed, letting him lead her from the group and back into the house. When they were in the car, Y/n finally said, "Sorry if I made things uncomfortable. Matt's a dick but he's still your teammate."
"Don't apologize," Harry replied immediately. "He got what was coming to him."
They let the conversation end there, driving back to their apartment in silence, save the music playing through the car's speakers.
It wasn't until they were both in the comfort of their own bed that Y/n brought it up again. Nestling under the covers and into Harry's side, she said, "You're totally whipped, you know that, right?"
Harry sighed and kissed the top of her head. "I know."
#harry styles#hockey player!harry styles#hockeyrry#figure skater!reader#figure skater!yn#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic
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Church Boy!Armin as your sneaky link
Since we did JJK men as your sneaky link, we've decide to do the same with AOT!
Warnings: MDNI, swearing, mentions of Christianity, mention of masturbation, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie.
Word Count: 945
________
You had no intentions of ever fucking this man. You’ve known him for years and never once thought of him in that way
Ever since you were younger Armin has been a good boy. Always following the rules and never getting in trouble
In college he started going to church, and before you knew it, he was a goody-two-shoes church boy. He was always trying to convince everyone to go to church with him
He would often send out bible verses, and would even bring his bible to outings with everyone.
You loved Armin, but church wasn’t for you. With your many tattoos and piercings, you felt out of place. So you never went.
Armin would always try and convince you to go, saying things like, “God says come as you are.” and things like that; but like i said, it just wasn't for you.
Out of nowhere, Armin stopped nagging you to go. You thought you were finally off the hook. That is, until he started showing up to your door saying he wanted to have bible study with you.
At first, you repeatedly told him no but eventually gave in. You would sit and listen to him read. Explaining everything to you and then moving on with your day. You thought nothing of it… but Armin? It meant a whole lot to him. Not just because he was so into the bible, but because he was so turned on by you.
He couldn't explain it. The way you sat there and listened, the tattoos on your body, the piercings, the way your lips glistened from the gloss; it was too much for him.
He couldn't understand how he could let himself be provoked to sin, but he couldn't stop.
He started touching himself to the thought of you, he was ashamed but he was so enamored he refused to stop.
One day he came to your house, and as you peaked over his shoulder to read he leaned in to kiss you.
You were beyond shocked.
Armin?? Good boy, church-loving Armin had his tongue in your mouth right now? You couldn’t believe it, but that one kiss lead to him pushing you against the wall and fucking you, and ever since, your bible studies turned into body studies
“y/n, fuck”, he whined as he kissed you
Today the bible didn't even get opened before he pounced on you. He climbed on top of you and started kissing you passionately. His tongue was intertwined with yours. He was grinding his hard dick against your core.
Today you got curious and decided to ask him what he was doing
“Wait Armin”, you said.
He stopped, fearing he did something wrong.
“Is everything okay? Did I do too much?” he questioned, with worry present in his eyes.
“No, you didn't do anything wrong, but… what are we doing? Aren't you super religious? Why do you keep coming over here to have sex with me”, you questioned
He stared at you, shocked by your question, but also feeling guilty.
“I dont know. Y/N you just do something to me”, he said as he moved closer to you.
“Something about you drives me insane. You're like a vixen, I think about you constantly.” He leaned over and started kissing you again.
“If this sends me to hell, so be it.” he said between kisses, “You're my favorite sin.”
Armin started removing your clothes and his kisses trailed down to your neck. He bit on your sweet spot causing you to moan.
He got both of your clothes off and lined his cock up to your cunt. He kissed you passionately before sliding in.
“Fuck- feels so good.” he whispered in your ear.
He pressed his body weight onto you and continuously slammed his hips into yours.
As sweet and fragile as he was, you couldn't lie. Armin had a big dick and knows how to use it.
His tip was hitting your g-spot causing you to moan.
He took one of your legs and lifted it over his shoulder, causing his dick to reach deeper inside you.
“A-armin-” you moaned out.
Hearing you moan his name made him go even harder, bullying his cock deep inside you.
The wet squelching noises were filling the room, and both of your bodies were covered in sweat. The whole time Armin never took his eyes off you.
He was completely enamored by you; the way your eyes glazed over, the way your breasts bounced, the way your mouth looked while you moaned his name, he couldn't get enough of you.
He placed your other leg on his shoulder and pushed your knees to your chest. The new angle caused tears to form in your eyes.
“Right there-fuck I’m gonna cum!” you whined.
Armin picked up the pace.
“Yeah baby, cum for me!” he responded.
He threw his head back from your walls squeezing him, and Armin approached his own high.
“Fuck!” he groaned out.
His thrust got sloppy, and you knew he was close.
“Yeah baby, cum with me!” you said to him.
Your legs shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your whole body got warm, and your orgasm washed over you.
You came on his dick, soaking his thighs and abdomen, and seconds later you felt his warm seed fill you to the brim.
He laid there on top of you for a few seconds before finally getting off.
“That um- that was great.” he said.
“I know.” you said, as you slipped your clothes back on, and he did the same.
“So-” he said, “...um yeah 1st Corinthians, chapter 3, verse 6.”
Rachel
#aot smut#aot x black reader#aot scenarios#aot x reader#aot imagines#armin x black reader#armin arlet x reader#armin arlert smut#armin smut#armin x reader#armin
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mattheo riddle ☆ focus
mattheo riddle x f!reader
contains smut
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
"mattheo, i've explained this several times, what do you mean you don't understand?" you crossed your arms as you stared at the hot, godsend of a brunette boy in front of you.
"i don't understand," mattheo shrugged and sat back in the library chair.
"i'm going to explain one more time, and if you still don't get it then i'm going to leave," you gave him a stern look.
"yes ma'am," matthe smirked and you ignored him.
you went over the details of the spell again, making sure to emphasise certain words and go slowly so mattheo's hollow brain could take in as much information as possible.
at the beginning of you two studying, he was focused. he knew what he was doing and you were able to make great progress- for two hours only, though.
"mattheo, fuck! just focus," you snapped at him. usually you would've gotten screamed at by the librarian but it was past closing times, she allowed you two to stay beyond curfew on the deal that whatever happened, like being caught in the library by another teacher, would not be her problem.
"how am i meant to focus when you look so good? i thought i could help myself but fuck," he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"and that's my problem how?" you shot him a death glare.
"is that an attitude i sense there?" he leaned forward.
"maybe, what are you gonna do about it?" you smirked back, knowing you were all bark and no bite.
"how about i fuck that attitude out of you?" mattheo's eyes remained on yours.
"yeah bet you'd love that, wouldn't you? but we have to get going with this studying," you huffed, slightly flustered but you weren't going to let him know he had that affect on you.
"i think i know a way that i could focus better," he smirked before getting up out of his seat and walking towards you.
"and that is?" you raised your eyebrow.
"let me eat you out while you read out those notes," he got on his knees in front of you.
you could've melted at the sight of mattheo fucking riddle being kneeled down in front of you. you felt the thin material of your thong quickly get soaked by the sight of him, his eyes quietly pleading at you.
"please?" he begged, his large veiny hands moved onto your knees, ever so slowly massaging up your thighs. you were beyond speechless- unaware of what to do or say, but you were absolutely loving it.
"if you don't want me to, you should saying something," mattheo said before kissing your thighs, each kiss making its way up to your skirt that was rolled up high. "such a slut aren't you? pulling your skirt so high, letting the whole school see what's all mine."
"mattheo, please," you breathed out as you could hear your own pulse from how desperate he got you in just a few seconds.
"yes ma'am," he said before pulling your legs apart, revealing your soaked underwear. "so wet for me already."
his gorgeous eyes flicked back up to yours, you watched him as he took a thumb up to your clothed clit before circling it ever so lightly. you threw your head back in pleasure despite him barely making any contact.
"tell me what you want," mattheo's thumb circled harder. his lips nipping down at the flesh on your thighs, undoubtedly leaving hickies but you couldn't care less, it felt amazing.
"i want you, i want your tongue eating me out," you moaned.
"that's what i like to hear," he smirked to himself before painfully and slowly taking your underwear off.
you opened up your notebook, trying to concentrate as mattheos mouth attached itself to your clit and quickly working on it. "fuck," you moaned.
mattheo's hands were cold, they found their way onto the sides of your thighs, holding on tightly as he did his magic.
"appare vestigium is the-" you couldn't even finish your sentence as you felt mattheo's tongue lap over your clit repeatedly. great heavens above.
you were puzzled when he quickly pulled away,
"keep reading."
you rolled your eyes and looked back over to your notes, "appare vestigium is a spell which," you held back a moan as mattheo stuck two fingers inside of you, "reveals the traces of magic-including spells- shit mattheo."
"keep going," he said while still going at it, the vibrations of his words made your back arch.
"it magically transports the caster to another location instantaneously," you bit down on your tongue, your hips grinding up onto his face and mattheo seemed to be enjoying every single second. "the destination is one that the primary user has been to or seen in some fashion previously. it can be used to apparate multiple people at once if holding each other. no incantation required."
your hands made its way into mattheos hair, pulling it slightly as he made your legs tremble in pleasure. "keep going," you moaned out.
"wasnt planning on stopping," he said. he pulled your legs over his shoulders, maintaining his grip on your thighs. you continued to ride his face, feeling your stomach tighten as mattheo made no efforts to slow down.
"mattheo- holy fuck," you barely breathed out,
"i'm gonna cum."
"cum for me, be a good girl and cum all over my face," his words only made you grow weaker as you rode out your high.
you sat back on the library seat, saying absolutely nothing yet so much was said. mattheo admired the state you were in, hair was a mess, your clothes all wrinkled, your legs shaking.
"i think i got the spell that last time," he laughed.
you shot him a glare, "you better have. i dont think i can do anymore." you went to stand up but quickly fell onto the table, your arms barely being able to hold you in place as your legs continued to ache.
"wonder who got you into that state," mattheo laughed before walking back to you. "allow me." he carried you bridal style out of the library and made his way to your dorm.
"think you can get into bed by yourself?" he asked.
"if you're asking to sleep over then just do it," you rolled your eyes playfully.
"you shouldn't be giving me that attitude, look where it got you last time," he said, referring to your current state of being unable to walk.
"shut up, riddle."
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#mattheoriddlesmut#mattheo x y/n#mattheo x you#mattheoxreader#mattheo smut#slytherin boys#slytherin#fanfic#fantasy
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Geto/gojo/reader “I can’t believe there’s only one bed” and HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY
THANK YOOUUU!! So, this one really sang to me, I went ahead and combined the two, mostly because they are very similar. Thank you both for the prompt!!
Now Presenting...
Starring: A flirty Satoru Gojo, and a tired Suguru Geto
Your body protested every step you took as you walked into the hotel, screaming at you to lay down and accept the sweet embrace of death. Okay, maybe death was a little extreme, but you could definitely have gone for a light coma in that moment. A yawn you had been suppressing came forward, and you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes.
“Awe, well aren’t you cute when you’re sleepy.” Gojo teased with a smile, earning him a glare from you.
“Shut up Satoru.” This entire trip he kept making note of how cute you were, and how you needed to be protected, and at this point, he was on the brink of losing vocal cord privileges.
“Flirt later you two, let’s just get checked in.” Suguru muttered as he ushered the two of you to the front desk. He tried to summon a friendly smile for the clerk, but it didn’t touch his tired eyes. “Hi! Uh, we should have two reservations under Masamichi Yaga.” He said, really hoping they didn’t ask for an id. He told his teacher that he should probably put the rooms under one of the three people going on the mission, but the man was more muscle than brain.
The young worker started typing on the computer, before confusion fell over her features. “Um, I found the reservations, but it says it’s only for one room?” She asked. You were a bit taken back by that, and you could tell from the looks on their faces the boys were too. You thought for sure you’d at least get your own room. But, then again, if getting a room with 3 beds was cheaper than getting 2 separate rooms, it did make sense for Yaga to take that route, the penny pinching bastard.
“Uh, yea that should be fine, that’s us.” Suguru shrugged, too tired to really argue. Much to your relief (and concern) the woman nodded and happily gave over the room key, not bothering to ask for an ID. What a stand up place. The three of you dragged your tired worn bodies over to the elevator. Well, two of you did. Satoru felt fine, because of course he did. And because he had no problem filling the elevator with whatever came to his head. You shared a look with Suguru.
How do we shut him up? Your eyes asked.
Pillow over his face as he sleeps Sugurus eyes offered.
No, I want him to shut up now.
Oh, that’s not gonna happen. For now, we just have to endure him.
You sighed, knowing he was right and hating that fact at the same time. Thankfully, the elevator door opened, and the room wasn’t far from it. Geto unlocked the door, and you and Gojo practically fell over him to get into it. You quickly went to grab your toothbrush, and Gojo went to fiddle with the tv. It was Suguru who noticed it first.
“Uh, guys? I don’t see another bed.” He said. You and Gojo stopped cold in your tracks, heads whipping to the center of the room and- yep. That was one bed, and only one bed. Not even so much as a pull out couch in sight.
“OH ho ho!!” Satoru laughed, launching himself onto the bed and folding himself into what you think was meant to be a sexy pose. “I’ve read fan fiction before, I know what happens here!” He cackled, “Be gentle with me, I’m a virgin” He swooned, acting like a helpless flower.
“I call sleeping in the bathtub.” Suguru said, checking out of this battle before it became a war.
“No, Don’t!” Gojo whined, reaching out to him, “The bathtub is cold and hard, I'm warm and soft. Unless you want me to be hard.” He winked.
“I can’t believe there’s only one fucking bed, who sets this shit up?!” You snapped, aggressively waving your hands at the bed.
“God.” Gojo responded.
“Bad fan fiction writers.” Geto retorted, apparently salty about his characterization in my past fics.
“Satoru get out of the bed.” You demanded, shaking your head. You did not just get out of a fight with ten, count em, ten first grade curses to sleep on the floor.
“How about you get in the bed?” He purred.
“I will, as soon as you get out of it.” you scoffed, fighting back a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
“Why not get in it with me?” He grinned at you, opening his arms wide as an invitation.
“I’d rather sleep in the bathtub.” You replied.
“Not an option, I already called it!” Suguru reminded you.
“Why don’t you sleep with him?” You accused more than asked, “He’s your man!”
“He is most definitely not my man!” Geto rebuffed the statement, shaking his head.
“He’s actually my man, we just haven’t taken our relationship to the next level yet.” Satoru purred with a cheeky wink to Geto to really seal the deal. Geto rolled his eyes.
“I’m going to bed, goodnight.” He said, going to grab a pillow from the bed, only for Satoru to grab his arm.
“Come on guys, don’t be silly! This bed is big enough for all of us!” He argued, “We all trust each other, right?!” Gojo paused long enough to look at both you and Geto, but not long enough for an answer. He already knew it. “We know no ones going to try any funny business, we trust each other with our lives there's no reason for any of us to be uncomfortable tonight!” you and Suguru shared more glances. Gojo may be annoying, but when he was right he was right. The only thing really keeping the three of you from sharing was standard social conventions.
“Fine, but if any of you touch me I’m throwing you off the balcony.” You warned. Geto sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the bed.
“I just don’t get why we weren’t warned about this.”
“I mean, it kind of explains the weird look she gave us.” You noted, sitting on the other side of Gojo.
“Yay, sleepover!” Gojo cheered, grabbing onto Suguru because he was the one that didn’t threaten him, “Fair warning, I’m a cuddler.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis.
“I knew I should have just slept in the tub.” Geto sighed.
🛏️🛏️🛏️
In the morning, you were a tangled mess of limbs and drool with your two best friends. Any warning against cuddling being tossed to the wind in exchange for the comfort human warmth brings. You hated to admit it, but it was the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. Gojo woke up not long after you, smiling softly, slowly coming back to life.
“Good morning,” He said. You shook your head and covered his face with a pillow.
“It was before you started talking.” You muttered.“It’s 6 am, go back to bed.” Suguru begged, not happy to have been woken up.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#satoru gojo#suguru geto#gojo x reader#geto x reader#satoru gojo x reader#suguru geto x reader#satosugu#satosugu x reader#satoru gojo fluff#suguru geto fluff#satosugu fluff#satosugu x reader fluff#gojo x reader fluff#geto x reader fluff#nobody likes you when you're 23
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