#no fucking body could help at all because I currently don't have much of a social circle
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Vice;Grip || chapter 2 || chs
(banner by @itaeewon)
Vice;Grip (masterpost)
NSFW - minors DNI
Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au
Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose.
A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!!
//
Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.
Section Specific Warnings: depiction of a depressive episode, recreational drinking and bar scenes, allusion to oral (f. receiving), kissing, rough sex/man-handling, explicit penetrative sex, dirty talk, aftercare, didn't venture fully into writing dom!vernon but i have been informed i wrote something that might be in the realm of a dom drop, language obviously, reader is called a gendered slur by a stranger, law-breaking :), actual fluff for a second, allusions to drug use, car sex
wc: 6900
Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on
1 yr, 5 months ago
The onset of spring brought a lack of color. Grey clouds hung full and heavy, low over the city skyline. Grey crept into the corners of your apartment, darkening rooms during daytime so that you needed to keep lamps on even in midafternoon. Grey crept over your body, into your limbs. Days stretched and nights inched; you only got out of bed because you had to feed the damn cat.
That's part of why you'd gotten the cat in the first place, after a particularly long episode a few years ago, when Chan had presented you with a list of things he thought you should do to combat the blues, as he'd put it.
He meant well. But he always came at your depression like a problem solver, like just doing the right things could make it go away.
And sure, his suggestions were things that would help - get outside, call someone, don't isolate, shower even if you aren't leaving the house, drink some damn water - they weren't a cure. They were better reminders for when you were okay - good at keeping you okay for longer stretches. But when it was already too late, when the grey came, they all sounded fucking pointless.
Anyway. The cat had been a good idea.
is it bad??
Chan did his best. He was a good best friend. He just didn't understand it.
The answer to his question, you thought, as you flipped your phone over so you wouldn't see the notification if he followed up, was yes. Yes, this time was particularly bad. But you didn't have the energy to type those three words.
Terrible friend, your brain accused, and it was right.
You managed to drag yourself to work, to at least show up so you could continue to pay for your apartment and your damn cat, but not much else. You existed on cans of diet coke and microwave meals. You doom-scrolled until sunrise, then slept an hour or two at most before getting dressed for work. You left texts unanswered, the mail piled up. So did the dishes.
Chan came by, once, did your dishes for you. It made you feel worse - useless and pitiable. You'd rather he just go away, but you held it in; you knew that would only hurt his feelings.
You learned from your mistakes, one thing that could be said in your favor.
“Have you called your doctor?” he wanted to know.
What was the point? There wasn't a stop hating your life pill.
“What if you tried painting?” he asked.
“What if you just let me be?” you countered, finally tripping over the line from embarrassed apathy to defensiveness.
That pout again. “It might help,” he said. “Don't most famous artists do their best shit when they're down?”
“Get out,” you deadpanned. He dropped it, knowing this was a bigger issue, a bigger argument, than this current episode, a complex situation that went beyond the boundaries of your brain chemistry.
He put the last of your now-clean plates away. “Let's go somewhere,” he suggested.
“Chan,” you groaned. “I’m tired. I can't go gallivanting -”
“You're not tired, you're depressed,” he argued. “And going outside will help you.”
“I might have to kill you,” you said seriously, and he rolled his eyes.
In the end, he let you win. He'd been around long enough to know that eventually you'd venture outside again, hit the bars with him again, text first again, laugh at his stupid memes again. It was just a waiting game.
Still, when he left, you sat on the edge of your couch with your chin in your hands. On the living room rug, the cat rolled and showed you its belly.
“Not you, too,” you groused.
The cat did a few alligator rolls and then scampered into your bedroom and under the bed, as if chased.
You sighed. You made your way to the spare room, which had been shut - to keep the cat out. To keep your ghosts in.
Your easel was still set up in the corner. You were kind of surprised it wasn't covered in cobwebs. You'd been sketching just on paper last time you'd worked, trying to make decisions that way so you wouldn't waste a canvas, and it still sat there.
You inched closer, ran your hands over your brushes. Took a step back, eyed the paper and your sketches.
It was bad. Thank god you hadn't put it to canvas.
You pulled the paper down, crumpled it in your hands. You chased the cat out with a gentle nudge of your foot, and closed the door again, keeping both cats and ghosts on their respective sides of the door.
There was no rhyme or reason to your brain, no map or calendar to follow for the starts or stops. But eventually, the clouds broke. The grey gave way to baby buds of green, yellows pushed through soil, determined to meet the sun.
You texted Chan - drinks??
He responded - about time!!!
You texted Vernon - hello, its me
When he didn't answer, you tried again - sorry for the radio silence.
Still nothing.
You checked his socials, saw that he'd been doing his thing - a smattering of selfies, some group shots with the guys he played music with sometimes, a few nature shots: the moon, once, and what looked like the river at night.
The silence stretched. You gave up, considered it over. Grieved a little, because it had been good.
You went out on a night that teased summer even though it was months away, sank into the familiar blur of too many shots - not enough to be a problem, but maybe enough to make problems.
Under the club's ever-moving lights, you took a selfie, your drink and cleavage both showcased in the shot.
Send it to Vernon, the urge to make trouble suggested, and you listened without hesitation.
And - finally - an answer.
come here after??
You smiled a tiny, victorious smile and knocked back the rest of your drink.
omw.
Later, he gave you a rare and devastating pout as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smoothed fingers down the still-shaking inside of your thigh.
“What'd you make me wait so long for?” he complained, those sharp eyes sparkling with mirth. When you shrugged, still a little mindless from your high, he gave the same spot on your thigh a playful slap. “Don't do it again.”
1 yr, 4 months ago
busy tonight?
not busy but.
???
not in the best mood.
bet i could fix that.
yeah. idk.
why don't you let me try?
“What's wrong?” you cooed, teasing, when Vernon let you into the apartment.
He didn't smile, didn't play along, and it sobered you quickly.
“Don't want to talk about it,” he muttered, crowding into your space. “Wasn't that big of a deal anyway.”
Just want the fix you promised, he thought.
You moaned like liquid gold when his first kiss was a bite. Encouraged, Vernon gripped you by the shoulders, pushing you back against the wall hard enough that he heard your breath escape in a single huff. He hesitated, eyes searching your face; a question.
You lifted your chin, eyes shining with something hard. When he kissed you again, you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled, hard enough to make him hiss; an answer.
His pace was frenzied from the start, your legs around his waist and the wall holding you up. His hand curled around your throat, not squeezing, but sliding up to grip at your jaw instead, keeping you from tilting your head back, closing your eyes, losing yourself in how he felt slamming his hips flush against yours with dizzying smacks.
When you whined that you were close, he pulled you away from the wall and lowered you both to the ground, the wooden floor of his entryway cold and hard beneath your spine. It didn’t matter, didn’t do anything to stop the vortex tightening below your stomach. You slapped a hand over your face as it distorted in pleasure, Vernon kneeling between the legs you still had gripping his waist, one of his hands braced on the floor next to your head, holding his body over you.
“That’s right,” he breathed, gritted teeth flashing over you, forehead wrinkling as his own release closed in on the chase. “Just fucking take it when I fuck you into the floor.”
Then he was pulling out, breaths hissing through his teeth as he straightened up, one hand pumping himself furiously until strings of white decorated your stomach, cooling immediately in the apartment’s chilly air.
His breathing was ragged as he sagged back onto his heels, and you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, watching him warily.
Then he stood and slipped into the hallway bathroom, the light clicking on and illuminating the unlit entryway where you’d just fucked. You heard the sink run, then shut back off, and Vernon returned. He knelt gingerly - you could see his knees were red from kneeling on the wooden floor - and cleaned your stomach first, then gently between your legs.
You sat the rest of the way up then, watching him carefully as he sat back on his heels again, avoiding your gaze. Something about the moment felt like a thing alive, unfurling between you like a casablanca lily under the refracted light of the moon.
You spoke at the same time.
“Vernon?”
“You okay?”
You swallowed, rubbed absently at your elbow where you’d smacked it on the floor during the position change.
“I’m fine,” you said tentatively. “Are you?”
He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, and then peering through his fingers at you for a second before dropping them again. “Thought I hurt you.”
You shook your head. “I’m okay. I would have said something.”
He nodded, relief starting to bring feeling back to his hands again. He stood and reached a hand down for you. When you took it, he closed his fingers around yours and pulled you to your feet.
“I know we don’t usually do this,” you said, rubbing at the parts of you that had been on the floor - the backs of your legs, your ass, “but could I take a super fast shower before I go?”
“Yeah,” he said, so quickly that the word almost trips on itself. “Of course.”
He led you into the bathroom, rummaged in the disorganized linen closet for a clean towel, pressed it into your hands.
“If you need one, too,” you said easily, as he reached around you to turn the water on so it could heat up, “I don’t mind if you join me.”
He paused. “You sure?”
You shrugged, then leaned over to put your hand under the spray, testing to see if it was still cold. ���It’s your shower.”
Under the stream of warm water, you turned to face him, front to front, looking up at him with clear eyes. Something in your expression was so open, Vernon couldn’t help but feel both the desire to step into the space you seemed to be offering him as well as the desire to get far, far away from it.
He’d been so angry before you’d texted, furious enough that he’d bruised his knuckles punching the doorframe; now, as the chemicals in his body settled down, he felt those knuckles throbbing. He was disgusted that he’d lost his temper, guilty that he’d taken any of that anger out on you, who had nothing to do with it.
He was scared of the desire he felt to be closer to you, just for tonight. Scared that fucking you hadn’t been enough to soothe whatever it was that roiled inside him, like it usually was. Scared that he felt like he needed more than sex to heal this particular burn.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and part of him thought he was apologizing in advance, like he knew already he’d run scared at some point. “For being so...”
He didn’t know what word fit best.
“I told you,” you said, pressing a little closer, “I would have said if I had a problem.”
“Okay,” he said, frowning a little. “If you’re sure.”
Then he reached over and brushed a thumb along your cheekbone, chasing away a rivulet of shower-water. You closed your eyes for a second, and he swore he could feel you lean into the touch, just slightly.
He didn’t know how to explain how he felt. Kind of like he’d done a hot-coal-walk; the exhaustion that came with an adrenaline crash, the vulnerability that came after facing down something big, that need - the burn inside him needing cool water before it could quiet down.
With the shower off, the silence in the bathroom was loud.
“Do you…” Vernon started, then stopped. His heart hammered, the adrenaline returning. He covered the moment by toweling his hair roughly and pulling his hands through the strands so they’d lay right. “Do you want to stay for a little bit? I was gonna order delivery, maybe watch something before I finish my assignment.”
He’d expected you to think about it, to turn it over in your mind the way you turn his things over in your careful hands, the way you turn him ass over head with just a smirk. Instead, you nodded right away.
“Yeah,” you said, like it was no big deal. Like you did this all the time. Maybe you did, just not with him. “I was starving, actually. I could stay for an hour or two.”
On his couch, the leftovers of the food scattered on his coffee table, you reached for his hand, ran a thumb imperceptibly along his purpled knuckles. You didn’t ask what happened, just brought them to your lips and pressed the lightest kiss before putting them down again and reaching for your noodles, as if it hadn’t happened at all.
That was when Vernon saw the potential of it, an entire picture, framed and labeled: you could hurt him so badly if he let you, if he let it get that far. For whatever it was that burned inside him, you were the cool water… but you could absolutely be gasoline, instead.
1 yr, 3 months ago
If you closed your eyes, you could pretend the light that passed over your closed lids in a repetitive pattern was the sweep of a lighthouse beam. You could pretend that the rumbling bass of the music was the roar of the ocean. You could pretend that you weren’t here, in a shitty bar, but at the seaside. You could pretend that you weren’t alone. You could pretend that you weren’t you.
You drained your drink and caught the bartender’s eye, gesturing for another, sliding the sweating glass away from you once you knew a new one was coming.
“What are you drinking?”
The voice came from your right, and you lifted tired, disinterested eyes to find the source of it.
“G and T,” you answered, because it was one fewer syllable than saying gin and tonic and maybe that one syllable would do the dirty work for you and tell this guy that you didn’t want to talk to him.
“Nice,” he said, like you’d said something interesting, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You didn’t return the question, just slid your phone screen on and opened your messages.
wyd
drinks at my hyungs place. wbu
damn. guess i have to settle for one of these very mid prospects at the willow
damn thats a sad story. if only you had a better option
if only my better option werent busy at his hyung’s
no one said i had to stay here. ur at the willow?
yep
The guy to your right tried again. “The DJ tonight kind of sucks, huh?”
You looked back at your phone.
don’t leave
You smiled into your drink, a thrill dancing through your bloodstream. The lights and music didn’t seem as garish as they had ten minutes ago.
“My boyfriend’s on his way to pick me up,” you said flatly to the guy who kept trying to talk to you, “so you might want to find someone else to complain about the DJ to.”
The word tasted like lemonade on your tongue - acidic and sour, sweet and refreshing, taste buds blooming and shriveling in tandem. Even the knowledge that it was a flat-out lie didn’t stop your heart from beating faster.
You expected the guy to get up and leave, maybe throw you a dirty look on his way. Instead, he seemed to call your bluff, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to read you.
“I don’t think I’d let my girlfriend go out alone looking like this,” he said evenly, and you let out a derisive laugh.
“The fact that you just said the words let my girlfriend probably has a lot to do with why you’re here alone,” you countered, a flash of victory slicing up your spine when you saw his face flush.
Before he could retort, you hopped down from your barstool, pushing your way into the crowded dance floor. You didn’t even want to dance, you just wanted to get away. If Vernon wanted to find you, he could come find you. He’d told you not to leave, he hadn’t said make it easy for me.
He found you anyway; he made it look easy. He stepped around a group of guys talking in a circle and into your space, like he was following a path, like he knew there’d be room for him.
You were happy to see him. You were happy he came. You were happy to breathe him in, to feel the warmth of his body and smell his cologne and hear your name tumble from his mouth like a statement. You were too drunk to tuck these truths away into pockets and folds where they would be harder to find.
You stepped to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. If he was surprised, his body hid it well. His hands came to rest on your lower back, pressing you closer to him as you leaned up to find his mouth.
You kissed him slowly, at odds with the frantic bassline vibrating under your feet. You let him tip your head back, changing the angle, sweeping your mouth with his tongue until you both tasted lemonade.
“Happy to see me?” he asked, a hint of a smirk on his face, one eyebrow arched in question and one half of his mouth twitching into a smile.
You didn’t have it in you to lie, so instead you said, “Your place?”
He led you outside.
As luck would have it, the idiot from the bar stood beside the front door, a cigarette between two fingers. His expression darkened when he recognized you, then further when he saw your fingers linked with Vernon’s as you stepped into the quiet night.
“Your girlfriend’s a fucking bitch,” the guy bit out, dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it.
Vernon’s eyebrows shot up.
Evenly, he said, “She’s not -”
She’s not my girlfriend. You felt your stomach swoop, and you felt yourself flinch.
“- a bitch. She’s just smarter than you.”
Vernon tugged on your hand, leading you across the street to his parked, waiting car.
You tried to bite back a smile, and he looked sideways at you, his own lips twitching.
“What?” he demanded.
“What?” you parroted.
He scowled at you, but his lips were just smiling. “What?” he asked again.
You laughed. “Let’s go,” you said. “The bitch wants to kiss you more.”
You expected his smile to sharpen. Instead, something in it seems to soften, changing from teasing to actual affection.
“Alright,” he said, turning to start the engine. “Can’t really say no to that, can I?”
“You could,” you mused, as he pulled away from the curb and the bar slid into nothingness behind you, “but I just don’t think you should.”
1 yr, 2 months ago
wyd
melting
srsly
no, seriously. i am laying on my living room floor like a starfish trying not to turn into liquid
come to hyungs
its too hot to move
i have an idea, come meet me at hyungs
You frowned at your phone. Of course your aircon died during the only heatwave you could remember in your entire adult life. Your whole body felt sticky; you were pretty sure you were stuck to your floor.
It was too hot to move.
what’s the idea??
you’ll see. i’ll order u a car. can you bring a couple towels?
“Vernon, no,” you laughed, your voice echoing.
He shushed you through laughter, both of you leaning on each other as you stood at the edge of the yard, the grass tickling the bottoms of your bare feet. Upstairs, at his friend’s place, you’d thrown back a few shots for courage before following Vernon out here, and you were feeling them, your head swimming like your body might soon be.
“It’s a circuit, see?” he tried to explain, pointing through the night, as if you could see through all the fences and over all the hedges. “Five yards, five pools, and then we end up right back here and we get in the car and go. Just follow me, don’t stop for anything.”
“Someone’s gonna call the cops,” you complained. “And these neighborhoods all have cameras.”
“That’s why we keep moving,” he said, his grin so excited and so un-Vernon that you almost couldn’t bear to say no to him. “No one’s gonna call the cops if we’re already gone - it’s not worth it. You ready?”
You hesitated. “You’re good to drive us out of here?” you checked.
He held up his hands as if to show innocence. “Only had a beer,” he promised. “But I’ve got something fun in the car for after, if you want.”
You felt your grin turn wolfish. “Okay. I’m right behind you.”
“Try and be quiet,” he warned, then took off running across the yard, cannonballing into the pool with a splash.
You tore off after him, leaping into the water and suppressing a shriek when the cold water hit you. You felt instantly sober, jittery with adrenaline, alive with laughter. You spluttered your way to the surface and pushed water away from your eyes, trying to find him through the shadows.
He was already climbing out the other side, water running down his back, the muscle shifting in the half-light as he hoisted himself back onto the pool’s deck. You hurried across the pool, climbing up beside him, giggling wildly.
“Shhh,” he warned, but he was giggling too as he led you carefully over the fence to the next yard.
As soon as you crept close enough to the pool to jump, a motion-activated light came on, flooding the yard white and causing you to cover your eyes.
“Quick!” Vernon told you, grabbing your arm and pulling you in with him as he jumped.
You let out a stream of bubbles and water rushed into your mouth. You felt your feet hit the bottom and you pushed off hard, surfacing quickly.
Again, you followed him across the pool, both of you laughing and whispering, “Hurry! Quick!” as you climbed out and headed around the house to the front yard.
“Okay, this is the hard part,” he told you, both of you shivering as the night air caught up to you. “We have to cross the street, hop the fence, and then the pool is around back.”
“I’m ready,” you promised, with a particularly hard shiver.
You sprinted across the street, both leaving wet footprints on the pavement. His hand felt warm in yours when he helped you over the fence, warm on your body when he held your waist as you climbed down.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you muttered, but giggles still spilled out of you.
“More fun than melting, right?” he asked, and you thought that you’d seen him smile more tonight than in whole months of coming together at night.
You thought you might move mountains to see him smile like this again, gums showing, open and honest, happy.
Then you were underwater again, swimming hard to keep up, following Vernon through the night as he pushed his way through some hedges and held them apart for you.
You made it to the last house before someone caught you, slamming the back door open and shouting, “Hey!”
“Go, go, go!” Vernon cried, laughing with such abandon that it sounded like goose honks, pulling on your hand as you both stumbled, dripping, towards the car.
You’d set towels on the seats before starting, so you tumbled into the car and he peeled away, both of you laughing wildly as you left the neighborhood behind.
It was miles before you calmed down, gasping in breaths and trying to hold them before exploding into laughter again.
“I’d better not end up on the news,” you scolded. “I’m in my underwear.
He gave you a searing sideways look. “I noticed.”
You felt yourself warm again, despite being in soaking wet clothes.
“Where next?” you asked. “Home?”
He let out a breath that was almost a sigh. “I don’t really want to go home,” he admitted. Then, “I was having fun with you.”
You considered this. “Not to be a cliche, but… I know a place.”
The quarry was quiet, surrounded by only trees; without posted lights, everything seemed to be just varying shades of black - the black of the water just darker than the black of the stone ledges just darker than the walls of trees just darker than the sky sprinkled with stars above you.
“We have to be careful,” you warned him seriously. “If you slip and get hurt, it could be bad.”
He turned the flashlight on his phone on and set it next to the metal rungs that jutted out of the stone, a makeshift ladder for the swimmers who came here during the day, when swimming was allowed.
“It’s going to be way colder than the pools,” you added.
“You’re not selling this very well,” he pointed out.
“Don’t be a chicken,” you teased.
He eyed the water. “I’m having second thoughts.”
You nudged him in the ribs, which caused him to squirm away, hands batting at yours, a noise emitting from him that made you laugh out loud.
“Are you ticklish?” you demanded. “How did I not know?”
“Come on, are we jumping or what?” he asked, laughing, still trying to keep your sneaky hands away from his ribs.
“Yeah, that’s probably the only way to actually get in,” you admitted, still laughing a little. Your abs felt a little sore from how much you’d laughed tonight.
You stood on the edge of the stone, toes curling over the ledge, Vernon’s hand tight in yours. You stood on the edge, the ink-like water beneath you rippling slightly, marring the reflection of the constellations high above you. You stood on the edge of something, knowing full well you were afraid to swim.
He counted you down, and together, you jumped.
The water was freezing - it hurt, it stung, and you shrieked and laughed as you surfaced. A foot from you, Vernon was shouting.
“The towels!” you told him, already swimming towards the little dot of light that marked the ladder.
Shaking and shivering, you reached your towel, wrapping it around yourself. Behind you, Vernon jogged up, making noises like a disgruntled horse as he found his own towel.
“Oh my god,” he groused, grabbing for you. “I’m freezing, come here.”
He opened his arms, the towel behind him like a wingspan, and you stepped into the space, letting him wrap his arms and his towel around you. You stood shivering together, trying to let your body heat chase the cold away.
You wrapped your own arms around his middle, pressing yourself closer as your legs shook, shivers rolling up your spine in waves as your body fought the chill.
“C’mere,” he murmured above you, holding you a little more tightly, his own teeth chattering.
It was the first time, you realized as you turned your head to rest your cheek on his chest, that you’d held each other. It was the first time you’d been between his arms when you weren’t fucking, the first time he’d tightened his grip around you for a reason other than gratification.
You didn’t want it - didn’t want to know that it felt nice in his embrace, didn’t want to know that it fit right and felt safe. You didn’t want to know that you liked it, didn’t want to have to fight against the humiliation of wanting more.
As soon as the full-body tremors died away in the warm, sticky night, you stepped away, eager to put distance between you again.
Later, he looked over at you from the driver’s seat of the car, red-eyed, his smile stretching slow and thick like putty. When you straddled his lap, his hands searching out the bare skin of your back, you rocked against him and pressed open-mouthed kisses to the column of his pretty throat until you were pulling groans from him with each pass of your hips.
Forget, you thought, as you pulled your underwear to the side for him. Forget every single thing but this.
When you slipped an arm behind his neck and pressed your foreheads together as you lifted and dropped, you weren’t sure whose memory you were hoping to erase with this most recent pleasure-chase: yours, or his.
1 yr, 1 month ago
There was no map or calendar to this thing your brain did. It was summer, the sun shone, and yet the days bled together again, sunsets swirling down the shower drain.
The last time you’d gone radio silent, the last time your world had gone grey without warning, Vernon had answered in kind. His own silence had shouted for him until you’d tempted him back.
This time, he didn’t resort to silence in retaliation to yours. Instead, he kept trying, relentless. If you’d had more presence of mind, you might have wondered why.
wyd
[ ]
yo. whats the deal
[ ]
i will have you know that this is very insulting
[ ]
don’t get mad but im coming over
“What the fuck, Vernon.”
“I said don’t get mad.”
“It doesn’t work like that. What are you doing here?”
He leveled you with a look. “You gonna let me in?”
“Literally, no.”
You hadn’t showered in days; your apartment was probably grosser than you were. The cat milled around your ankles, trying to weasel its way outside, and you hopped from foot to foot trying to nudge it back inside.
“Why not?” he asked.
You huffed, annoyed. But the annoyance was the first thing you’d felt all day, and something inside you clung to it, desperate for more of anything but the crawling nothing that’s kept you company for days.
“Because,” you grumbled. Because there’s nothing for you here. Because I have nothing I can give you. “I’m… just not in the mood.”
He stepped back from the door so you could see more of him. “I’m not asking you to be.”
“Then why are you here?” The words fell between you, heavy. If you hadn’t been so low, if you hadn’t gone all day without eating, if you hadn’t been on your thirtieth hour without sleeping, you would have known better. You would have realized that you were asking, if you aren’t here for sex, then what are you here for?
You wouldn’t have asked a question that you didn’t want the answer to.
He met your eyes. He seemed to teeter on the edge of telling you the truth, giving you the real answer. Then, he muttered, “Got bored.”
You knew it wasn’t the whole truth, and he knew you knew it, and yet neither of you were willing to look at it directly.
“I fail to see how that’s my problem,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
He watched you for what felt like a long time, face serious, eyes glittering and attentive. Then, instead of answering, he repeated, “Are you gonna let me in?”
You frowned at him, but there was a little more pout to it than anger. “I’m all gross,” you said, instead of answering.
Something in him softened - it was visible on his face, in his shoulders, like he knew this was your way of saying yes. “So let’s shower,” he suggested quietly.
You felt trepidation, like part of you expected him to stay soft, to try to take care of you. To your relief, Vernon acted like everything was normal, scrunching his face at you when the water was too cold as he stepped in, washing his own body in silence and letting you do your thing.
He didn’t try to hold you, didn’t ask you when you’d eaten last, didn’t try to talk about it - didn’t try to fix it. He was just… there, and this - along with your first shower in days - was somehow revitalizing in itself.
You pulled on clean sweats, which was better than the day-four sweats he’d found you in. “The apartment’s kind of… sorry,” you mumbled, looking around the living room, feeling a bit of that familiar shame crawl up your neck as you noticed the evidence that you hadn’t been picking up, or running a vacuum.
Vernon flopped backwards on your sofa, unphased, one arm bent behind his head. “We’ve been doing this for almost a year,” he pointed out. “I know how it usually is.”
It isn’t usually like this. And neither are you.
You wondered when it happened - your ability to finish his half-thoughts, your ability to know what he meant when he only said a fraction of it.
You stood awkwardly beside the couch where he was lounging, and he looked up at you with a tiny, amused smile.
“What do you wanna do?”
What you really wanted to do was cocoon yourself in blankets again and put on repeats of a show you’d already seen. But now you had to look functional. You might be mad at him for showing up like this, now that you thought about it.
“I dunno,” you said, which was close to the truth.
“You wanna eat?”
“Honestly?” you asked, pursing your lips a little. “No.”
“Okay,” he said easily, and it struck you again how different this was than how Chan treated you when you were low. Chan would have already had the food delivered, and would be chasing you around the table with loaded chopsticks, demanding you take a bite.
“Can we just… watch something?” you asked, unsure.
Vernon wordlessly reached for your remote and held it up to you, nonplussed.
You wondered if it was an act, how easy this was, how unbothered he was, how he seemed to just understand what wouldn’t help.
You knew it wasn’t; you’d been around long enough to know that Vernon’s demons weren’t all that different from yours.
You settled somewhere between his body and the back of the couch, one leg bent over his legs, one of your arms over his stomach and his arm curled around your shoulders.
“This is weird,” you muttered into his chest, and his laugh rumbled under you.
“Why?” he asked, his smile big, like he thought you were particularly funny. “Not used to being big spoon?”
Not used to cuddling - with you.
“Yeah,” you said, because that was easier.
On your TV, a show ran through several episodes, the changing scenes splashing you and Vernon with changing colors, casting his face blue and then white and then black and then red and then blue again. Sometimes he’d watch, sometimes he’d scroll on his phone. You mostly felt his heart beating under your hand and let your mind whir.
At some point he started mindlessly (or not mindlessly, who could know) stroking your back, gentle touches brushing up and down, slow, slow, the way he always was. At some point you shivered, goosebumps rising along your arms, and snuggled closer to him. At some point he shifted you from slightly beside him to on top of him, a second hand slipping under your loose tshirt and joining the first in tracing stripes up and down your upper back.
You shifted against him, something coming to life with a shudder like the furnace in your parent’s basement on cold autumn nights. Heat worked its way slowly from your core to your stomach, down your legs.
He kept his eyes on the tv, innocent, but you could hear his heartbeat. It couldn’t lie and pretend.
You shifted again, squirming until you’d worked his t-shirt up just enough that you could touch skin, too. You trailed your own fingers over the inch of exposed stomach you’d found, and delighted in the way you could feel him start to harden beneath you.
Then, you delighted in your delight. It was the first good thing you’d been able to feel in almost a week.
You said his name, and he finally looked down at you, eyes nearly black in the unlit room.
“What is it?” he asked, and his voice was suddenly so low it sent shivers tumbling down each vertebrae and tripping over to your limbs. “Want me to make you feel good?”
No, you wanted to say as you answered his question by pulling the hem of his t-shirt higher, encouraging him to lift up so you could pull it off. No, just want you to make me feel.
1 year ago
Everywhere Vernon looked, all he saw was circles. Circle of red in his bowl when he inhaled. Circle of condensation on the table when he lifted his beer. Circle of light reflecting from his phone case, laying in the setting sunlight, to the ceiling. Above him, the ceiling fan circled lazily, nowhere to be.
And you - you and him. That was a circle, too. A cycle, at least, which was close enough in his opinion. Text, hook up, skitter back to your respective places, wait out the next weekend. It was as rhythmic and routine as waves breaking and then getting pulled back out only to come shatter on sand again. It was out of his control, up to forces far greater than he was.
Vernon’s friends had texted to hang out and he’d declined. He told them he was seeing his parents, but really, he just wanted to be alone. He wanted to watch the ceiling fan circle, he wanted to let his brain go staticky quiet, he wanted to burrow deep into things that made him feel less.
But he still, somehow, wanted to see you. He wanted to be alone, and being with you didn’t feel like not getting that.
It was a little scary, he thought, that you were the exception. That he could be with you without feeling the uncomfortable pressure of being with others, of having to be on, of having to fake cheerfulness and keep up with chatter that only exhausted him.
Vernon wasn’t a kid. He knew what it meant.
whats up
honestly not a lot. want me to come over?
Yeah, he did. He did, even if you weren’t going to hook up. He did, even if you were just going to lay on opposite sides of the couch and scroll on your phones. He did, and he hoped he’d end up with his arms around you, and he hoped he’d make you laugh at least once, and he hoped you’d stay and just be there with him after.
When you came over, he asked you how you felt about it - about him, about you and him. He asked by laying you on your back in his bed, by brushing fingertips along your face. He asked you by sliding your leggings away gently, pressing his mouth to each inch of your inseam as it became exposed to his dimly lit room. He asked you by kissing you through the lace you wore for him, then kissing the same spot once that lace was on his floor.
He asked you when he crawled up your body until his tip teased at your entrance and you whined, shifting to try to take him. And - when he took it slow this time, teeth scraping at your neck and then tongue hurrying to soothe the sting, his arms bracketing your body like he was sheltering you from an incoming storm.
(Maybe, he considered, he was.)
(Maybe, he considered, he was worthless in the face of this storm’s wrath.)
(Maybe, he considered, he was the fucking storm in the first place.)
And you heard his question loud and clear. You pulled on your leggings as soon as you were cleaned up, popping your hood up over your head as you searched for your phone. You kept your eyes on your screen as you waited for a car to come, murmured, “Later,” on your way out the door.
Vernon’s apartment rang with quiet. He was alone, he’d gotten what he’d wanted.
He’d also, it seemed, gotten his answer.
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thank you so much for reading!!! i'm always happy to hear what you think!
#kvanity#svthub#svt fanfic#svt fic#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#vernon fanfic#vernon fic#vernon x reader#vernon x you#vernon x y/n#vernon chwe x reader#hansol x reader#hansol x you#chwe hansol x reader#vernon smut#hansol smut#vernon chwe smut#chwe hansol smut#vernon angst#vernon fluff#hansol fluff#chwe hansol fluff#fuckbuddies au#fic: vice;grip
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Im kind of feeling like i can't take it anymore
#vent#bad sad sleep-deprived and mentally ill#i am currently crying myself to sleep just fucking sobbing because everything hurts#my brain is failing me my body us failing me#i dont know what to do with myself#so many things are happening so many things hurt and i have no body to talk to#i have never felt so utterly alone#i hate myself for even writing this because i feel so pathetic and as if im just whining for attention#because i probably am#some lame ass cry for help because i really don't know how to function at this point#truly i am just so fucking alone#and there is just so much that is happening and i cant share it with anyone so it just all stays in my stupid brain and#probably makes me more mentally ill or smth#and for however long all i do is keep myself from crying during the day bc i cant let my family catch me having mental breakdowns#yet i have all of these painful thoughts that are plaguing my mind all the fucking time#i am just so so tired#and i keep thinking about death and it's so fucking scary#i just wish i wasn't myself and i had a different brain i could be better than this because maybe then i would be fine#at home im in toxic hell#in online spaces i have no one actually close to me#in my brain i have horrible thoughts and hardcore daydreaming distactions that dont fix anything#in my course i think im not doing well enough and im scare dthat my the end of it im still going to be a useless unemployed moron#on my silly blog i think if i dont make content i have no value and ehatever i make is not even that good or interesting#so i better cover it up with quantity but i dont have time or ability to do so#which again makes me into a fucking Nothing#god my head hurts so much#that's what u get for wailing at 4 am#anyways i am doing horrible and i can't take it anymore truly reaching my fucking limit#all my fault tho so ☺#delete later and if someone actually reads it Um sorry for this i am hashtag unwell 😋💫
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Wow I can't believe I woke up in time so I can have the delightful experience of going waste my time with service canada. It will be great.
#it's a walking distance but like just the concept that someone is fucking sick and absolutely no one#no fucking body could help at all because I currently don't have much of a social circle#i mean the only person helping me is also struggling with the same shit#so we're just equally pissed while none can do anything to progress with their own situation#it seems to be kind of common in quebec to have that kind of situation#i moved in montreal actually to reduce how often and actually have accessibility#but to make in context#if i would have stayed in a rural place in my own context I'd be dead by now and that's a fact#i don't know if every other province are like this but the idea we give that we are such a progressive country stop existing#with simple things like not being able to drive and if you have any kind of disability that could be easily accomodable well fuck it#they will just leave you in your own shit while giving a fake sympathetic apology and this is exactly why i want to slug canadians more than#americans in general#i mean if usamericans have something over Canadians in every circumstance is that they're genuine to an extend#being genuine and honest is probably the least canadian thing someone can do#instead they recognize your problems if they see them pretend things will change only to make the problem worse in a subtle way and#expect you to die in the meantime (no it's not an exaggeration eugenics are very fundamental in this culture)#probably more than in america actually#it's weird how Canadian culture rest upon only two things and it's eugenics and colonial elitism#and yet it passes for the most progressive country because we don't shoot all sort of marginalizable people on sight#but do we do anything to help them#the answer#is#also#no#also our healthcare is a fucking scam
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hey uh so I haven't seen anyone talking about this here yet, but
the amazon river, like the biggest river in the fucking world, in the middle of the amazon fucking rainforest, is currently going through its worst drought since the records began 121 years ago
picture from Folha PE
there's a lot going on but I haven't seen much international buzz around this like there was when the forest was on fire (maybe because it's harder to shift the narrative to blame brazil exclusively as if the rest of the world didn't have fault in this) so I wanted to bring this to tumblr's attention
I don't know too many details as I live in the other side of the country and we are suffering from the exact opposite (at least three cyclones this year, honestly have stopped counting - it's unusual for us to get hit by even one - floods, landslides, we have a death toll, people are losing everything to the water), but like, I as a brazilian have literally never seen pictures of the river like this before. every single city in the amazonas state is in a state of emergency as of november 1st.
pictures by Adriano Liziero (ig: geopanoramas)
we are used to seeing images of rio negro and solimões, the two main amazon river affluents, in all their grandiose and beauty and seeing these pictures is really fucking chilling. some of our news outlets are saying the solimões has turned to a sand desert... can you imagine this watery sight turning into a desert in the span of a year?
while down south we are seeing amounts of rain and hailstorms the likes of which our infrastructure is simply not built to deal with, up north people who have built everything around the river are at a loss of what to do.
the houses there that are built to float are just on the ground, people who depend on fishing for a living have to walk kilometers to find any fish that are still alive at all, the biodiversity there is at risk, and on an economic level it's hard to grasp how people from the northern states are getting by at all - the main means of transport for ANYTHING in that region is via the river water. this will impact the region for months to come. it doesnt make a lot of sense to build a lot of roads bc it's just better to use the waterway system, everything is built around or floats on the river after all. and like, the water level is so incomprehensibly low the boats are just STUCK. people are having a hard time getting from one place to another - keep in mind the widest parts of the river are over 10 km apart!!
this shit is really serious and i am trying not to think about it because we have a different kind of problem to worry about down south but it's really terrifying when I stop to think about it. you already know the climate crisis is real and the effects are beyond preventable now (we're past global warming, get used to calling it "global boiling"). we'll be switching strategies to damage control from now on and like, this is what it's come to.
I don't like to be alarmist but it's hard not to be alarmed. I'm sorry that I can't end this post with very clear intructions on how people overseas can help, there really isn't much to do except hope the water level rises soon, maybe pray if you believe in something. in that regard we just have to keep pressing for change at a global level; local conditions only would not, COULD NOT be causing this - the amazon river is a CONTINENTAL body of water, it spans across multiple countries. so my advice is spread the word, let your representatives know that you're worried and you want change towards sustainability, degrowth and reduced carbon emissions, support your local NGOs, maybe join a cause, I don't know? I recommend reading on ecological and feminist economics though
however, I know you can help the affected riverine families by donating to organizations dedicated to helping the region. keep in mind a single US dollar, pound or euro is worth over 5x more in our currency so anything you donate at all will certainly help those affected.
FAS - Sustainable Amazon Fundation
Idesam - Sustainable Developent and Preservation Institute of Amazonas
Greenpeace Brasil - I know Greenpeace isn't the best but they're one of the few options I can think of that have a bridge to the international world and they are helping directly
There are a lot of other smaller/local NGOs but I'm not sure how you could donate to them from overseas, I'll leave some of them here anyway:
Projeto Gari
Caritás Brasileira
If you know any other organizations please link them, I'll be sure to reblog though my reach isn't a lot
thank you so much for reading this to the end, don't feel obligated to share but please do if you can! even if you just read up to here it means a lot to me that someone out there knows
also as an afterthought, I wanted to expand on why I think this hasn't made big news yet: because unlike the case of the 2020 forest fires, other countries have to hold themselves accountable when looking at this situation. while in 2020 it was easier to pretend the fires were all our fault and people were talking about taking the amazon away from us like they wouldn't do much worse. global superpowers have no more forests to speak of so I guess they've been eyeing what latin america still has. so like this bit of the post is just to say if you're thinking of saying anything of the sort, maybe think of what your own country has done to contribute to this instead of blaming brazil exclusively and saying the amazon should be protected by force or whatever
#solarpunk#sustainability#environmentalism#climate change#climate crisis#global warming#amazon rainforest#amazon river#geography#brazil#degrowth#punk#global boiling#ecopunk#anti capitalism#climate action#climate activism#the world does not die on my watch#i saw someone use that tag and uh i like it we should make it a thing#long post#:/ sorry i know no one likes lengthy bad news posts on their dashes but i've been thinking about this quite a bit#and i don't really know what to do to help bc i don't have money to donate and i am 10 thousand km away#i think i could be doing more to help but i am already trying my best#again dont feel obligated to share or read this but it would be nice and i would love you forever#have removed lbv from the post
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gojo being dangerously loud
a/n: i know this is supposed to be a nanami focused account but hear me out... whiny gojo. that's it.
cw: cunnilingus, riding, ummm gojo being drunk and loud and his baby girl moans, semi-public sex (they're in a bathroom), i am so horny and i just need him so bad
you love the sounds your boyfriend makes during sex. he's never been shameful about it either, always loud and proud about the way your pussy makes him feel. this time, however, you wish he'd shut up.
you two are currently in your friends bathroom during a drunk movie night. you were both pretty tipsy, gojo more drunk than you and you were having a great time. all of a sudden, he doubled over, making it obvious to everyone that there was something wrong and he needed a bathroom fast.
except, when you follow him in and he locks the door behind you, there is nothing wrong with him at all, besides the raging boner he was currently sporting. your eyes widened when you saw it, but the casamigos in your bloodstream was stopping you from thinking clearly and the next thing you knew, you were getting eaten out on your friends bathroom floor.
"'toru, fuck, i'm close!" you whisper, holding his head harder and he speeds up, his tongue flicking your clit constantly as his two middle fingers are going to work. when you cum, you cover your mouth with your hand as your back arches off the floor and gojo doesn't pull away. you have to manually drag him away from you and he immediately goes for your lips, making your mouth just as messy as his own.
as the two of you kiss, he sits up and pulls you against his body sitting against the bathtub. you make quick work of his pants and without wasting any time you lower yourself on him. the last thing you expected was for him to throw his head back and let out one of the sluttiest moans you had ever heard. "ahhh fuckkk!"
you quickly slap your hand against his mouth and pray to god that no one heard that. he lifts his head and looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and low eyes, whimpering quietly against your hand at your pussy pulsing around him. "satoru, you've got to be quiet, baby, okay?" you ask and he nods, his cheeks red.
you finally lift your hips and before you could even go back down, a deep groan comes from his throat and you stop again. he gets impatient and pulls you down himself, dropping his forehead against yours as he moves you faster.
"mmph feels too good, can't stop," he says breathlessly against your palm, and you have to drop your head on his shoulder at the speed he was going. he truly was trying his best, but as the two of you went on, his whines got louder and louder until they were hoarse moans.
"im close, im close, please, please, please!" he cries against your skin and you take over, pressing your lips against his in the process. he moans into the kiss, his body going weak when you trade the fast movement for slow, deeper movements.
"you like it, 'toru?" you ask, your lips moving against his. he nods quickly, tears beginning to form in his eyes at the sensitivity of his dick but you don't stop.
"baby please- haaa fuckkk!" he begs squeezing your hips and you shake your head.
"promise me you'll be quiet when you cum," you instruct and he nods furiously, just wanting to feel his orgasm. you take his word for it, partly because you were ready to cum too, but you cover his mouth for safe measures.
you go faster now, grinding your hips down on his, and almost as soon as you start, you feel him start to shake and thrust into you himself. "ah, ah ahhhh fuck, fuck, fuck, cummingggg!"
before you could say anything, he holds you down, his head buried in your neck as he moans in your ear and your orgasm hits as well, spurring him on. "ohh shitshitshit too much too much fuuuck!" he cries, holding your body against his as you ride your orgasm out. right when you finish, you hear a knock on the door and your friend's concerned voice.
"hey, is he okay in there, do you guys need help?" her voice rings out and your eyes widen.
"yeah, he's okay, just drank a bit too much!" you shout back and turn back to look at your boyfriend. "cough," you instruct and he does just that. you reach to the side and flush the toilet and pretend to pat his back. "that's okay, get it all out."
"okay, there's some water in the kitchen for him when he's done," she says and leaves. you let out a sigh of relief and drop your head on a slightly sobered up gojo's chest.
"my bad," he whispers and you roll your eyes as you stand up.
"shut up."
#jjk gojo#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo smut#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#gojo x black reader#gojo x black y/n
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Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?
They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?
And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?
Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.
Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.
He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.
But it's not.
His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".
......guys?
His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.
*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*
Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.
And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?
Are DIFFERENT.
They're all of um!
It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.
There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.
Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!
No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!
Sad. We miss it.
But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?
Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!
Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?
Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*
Clearly a demon!
He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.
Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.
Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)
Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.
People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.
Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!
Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.
So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.
Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.
He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.
Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.
@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes
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congrats on 1k!!! so so happy for you 🫶🏻🫶🏻
for the song request 🎧 could you write a lil fluff piece for lando? song: look after you by the fray <3
Be My Baby | L. Norris
Summary: You and Lando slowly but surely realize that you’re falling in love with each other.
Warnings: none just fluff
pairing: lando x fem!reader
wc: 1.7k
Note: I listened to this song three times and wrote this while listening. I honestly don’t know if it relates to the song at all but I’m satisfied with the plot.
Lando was holding all the bags for you while you shopped, and it was getting hard to hold them all in one hand. But he wanted—no, needed to keep his other hand free so he would be able to hold yours as you walked side by side.
Then, you spotted the next store you wanted to walk into, dropping Lando’s hand and while he followed you, his hand felt a tad too empty.
If I don't say this now, I will surely break
Lately, Lando has been looking at you a little too long for it to be considered anything less than a relationship, but every time he looked away, his heart ached, needing to search for a glimpse of you again.
You were picking out a few clothes, holding it up in front of you as you decided whether or not you wanted to buy it. Turning to Lando to ask for his opinion, you let out a laugh, confusing him.
As I'm leaving the one I want to take
You stepped closer, poking his nose before breaking out into a smile, “oh Lan, do you want me to take any bags?”
You reached for them but he pulled away, shaking his head, “no, I’m good. Also, don’t get that dress.” He commented, nodding his head towards the dress you were currently holding.
“No? It wouldn’t look good on me?” You asked as you held it against your body but he still shook his head. “You would look good in anything, but it has buttons on the back instead of a zipper and I know how much you hate those.”
Forgive the urgency, but hurry up and wait
You flipped the dress and as he stated, there were buttons instead of a zipper like you thought. Your mouth parted slightly in surprise, at both the facts that Lando not only noticed the buttons before you did, but also knew that you preferred zippers. You had no idea that Lando remembered the small piece of information.
Without another word uttered, you placed the dress back on the rack and continued shopping. If you had said something, it would’ve been a little more than what is considered friendly.
My heart has started to separate
During the remainder of your shopping spree, Lando tried to keep up with your pace but he fell behind. However he didn’t mind because he could look at you as much as he wanted without getting caught.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, be my baby
The next time Lando called you, it was way too early in the morning for you. But the words he spoke as soon as you picked up worried you, “I think I might accidentally burn my apartment down if you don’t come and help me.”
You noted the time, 8 am, and groaned, “why would you burn your house this early? Can’t it wait?”
I'll look after you
“Are you coming or do you want to see my body burnt to a crisp?” Laughing, you told him that you would be there in ten minutes.
You reached in nine minutes, knocking incessantly in case Lando did actually fuck something up, but then again it wasn’t unusual for him to do so.
As soon as he opened the door, you walked right past him then once you assessed the damage—or well the lack of—you turned around to greet him, “what did you do?”
There now, steady love, so few come and don't go
“Good morning to you too,” he responded with a sheepish smile on his face. “Lando no middle name Norris, you did not ask me to come over for no reason.”
“I do have a reason, but don’t act like you wouldn’t come over for no reason either.” He walked closer to you, and you shrugged, “fair, I would.”
Will you won't you, be the one I always know?
“Come with me,” he stated, walking towards the kitchen and that’s where the mess was made. There were an unusual amount of empty pots and pans scattered everywhere.
You raised your eyebrow in amusement then looked at him. “Don’t laugh, I wanted spring rolls, but I don’t think I can fry them without either burning myself or the apartment.”
You laughed, something you were doing a lot more in his presence. When he looked at you with a stern glare, you slapped your hand over your mouth to contain your giggles.
When I'm losing my control, the city spins around
Once you stopped laughing, you had only one question, “why do you want to fry spring rolls this early?”
He shrugged, “I’m hungry,”
Shaking your head with a smile on your face, you began decluttering the space so you could work efficiently. Setting the frypan to heat up with oil, you looked at Lando again, noticing that he was already looking at you.
You're the only one who knows, you slow it down
“The things I do for you, Lan, no one else will put up with this you know?” He hummed, “what makes you think I want anyone else but you?”
He watched you cook, surprised at your little to no fear while handling hot oil but he chose not to comment in case it distracts you.
On the other hand, Lando was very much distracted by your choice of clothing. He noticed that you were wearing a black hoodie with his name and driver number on the back. He couldn’t look away from it for the remainder of the time your back was facing him. Then, he realized with a stupid smile on his face, that he liked it a lot.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, be my baby
Lando was walking you home and your hand was wrapped around his bicep as if it always belonged there. The restaurant was nearby so there no reason to drive, plus that meant you two were able to order some wine with your meal.
Although it wasn’t a date, it didn’t feel like anything less than one. The only difference was, both of you were in comfortable clothes, nothing too fancy, and it wasn’t openly stated that it was a date. But god, did you wish it was.
And I'll look after you
Lando walked on the outer edge of the sidewalk that was closer to the road. The sun had set a few hours ago, letting the moon illuminate the night sky. The time always passed by so quickly whenever you were with Lando.
His presence was so inviting that you never wanted to leave. When you finally admitted the thought instead of ignoring it, you realized how much you didn’t want Lando to just be your friend. You wanted so much more.
“What are you thinking about?” Lando spoke, interrupting the silence of the night but his voice was like music to your ears. “The wine,” you lied, knowing that the voices of your inner thoughts could not be said out loud. Not yet.
If ever there was a doubt
“That good?” He followed up, making you nod, “could compete with Daniel’s,” you responded, feeling his body move as he chuckled before you heard him.
“Don’t tell him that, he’s already got too big of a head.” Lando commented about his former teammate although there was no ill intent behind his words. You playfully slapped his arm with your free hand, only because you didn’t want to let go of his arm. “And what about you Mr. Norris, wouldn’t you say you’ve got a big ego as well?”
My love she leans into me
“The only reason I’ve got a big ego is because of you, sweetheart, always complimenting me.” Based on his tone, you knew he was just teasing but you couldn’t help but think more of the nickname he gave you. It wasn’t the first time he used it, but it definitely stirred feelings in your stomach the more he said it.
“Then my ego should be through the roof with the way you compliment me,” you noted, remembering all the times he said something that would leave you a blushing mess.
“And everything I said is true,” He remarked, and only because you didn’t want him to see your face which was undoubtedly red, you leaned your head onto his arm. Surely, that was the only reason, you told yourself. You totally didn’t want to just soak up all his personal space and make it yours.
This most assuredly counts
Reaching the doorstep to your home, both of you stopped walking but neither made a move to part away. In fact, while you were walking, Lando’s hand covered yours that was resting on his arm.
“I guess the night ends here,” Lando commented once you found the strength to move away from him. You looked towards the door then back at him, “it doesn’t have to, you can come in.”
Lando closed his eyes and thought for a moment before shaking his head, “I don’t think I should.”
She says most assuredly
Even though you weren’t holding his arm anymore, you stepped closer to see if he would move back, but he didn’t. “Why not?” You asked, even though you had an idea of what his answer could be.
“I don’t think I would be able to leave.” He looked at you with such intensity that if you weren’t slowly becoming accustomed to it, you would’ve melted into a puddle.
“Lando,” you whispered as there wasn’t a need to speak any louder with the little distance between you. His hand rested against your cheek, and he tilted his face an inch closer.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, be my baby
“This could change everything,” he commented, letting you find a reason to back out now. “I know,” you muttered, leaning closer until your lips were barely just brushing together.
“Kiss me,” you spoke against his lips and he didn’t waste a single moment before closing the distance entirely, claiming you as his and him as yours.
I'll look after you
#di celebrates#lando norris fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris fluff#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#thef1diary fic#f1 x reader#lando norris x you
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˚ . ✧ 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍, chris sturniolo !
pairings: fem oc x chris sturniolo
summary: reader avoids chris for a full week after having a sex dream about him. chris can’t take it anymore and convinced matt and nick to help him get her alone at a party.
warnings: soft/kinda rough dom!chris, slightt mommy & daddy kink if you squint, mentions of sex dreams, riding & fingering.
"where the fuck are we going?"
"don’t you trust us, b?"
matt’s faux-exasperated tone had bianca throwing him a side-eye. nick, who stood to the left of bianca, chuckled, "i don't think she does matt."
it wasn't that bianca didn't trust them. she’s known the triplets literally her whole life, and matt and nick are like the older brothers she's never had. on a normal day, she would literally follow them blindly because that’s exactly what the trio were: the blind leading the blind. but with the current circumstances and the fact that she has been avoiding their brother like the literal plague, bianca can’t help but feel a little bit suspicious.
matt and nick had found bianca hiding—or at least trying to. it was always easy to find bianca at a party, considering after two drinks she was close to literally getting on top of a table and singing out of tune. anyway, she had been hiding with a group of her college friends that none of the triplets could even remember the names of, considering she didn’t hang out with them much. the fact that bianca was even at a party with them in the first place was weird; she always found it boring, but she needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company had to do it.
bianca was sitting with one of her college friends, pouring another drink for herself, when matt and nick appeared out of literally nowhere, which confused bianca because why would matt and nick ever be at a party one of her college friends were throwing? grabbed her plastic cup from her hands, ignored her protests, and started dragging her out of the living room.
dragging bianca along, each one linked to her arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding her up the stairs into the upstairs hallway. they moved fast, and the people around her passed by like a sea of blurred faces.
bianca was suddenly thrusted forward when she reached one of the doors and were pushed inside by matt, who flashed her an apologetic smile, shrugging, "i’m sorry!" he said though he didn’t seem apologetic at all.
bianca glared at the door; she didn’t even need to turn around; she already knew who was sitting on the bed, as who else would convince their equally idiotic brothers to do this?
she sighed as she turned around, reasoning with herself that as much as she tried, she unfortunately couldn't avoid her best friend forever. sitting on the neatly made bed of some stranger's room was chris sturniolo, looking like a kicked puppy as he followed bianca’s eyes, watching as they averted around the room as she still stood at the door, unsure of what to do.
chris happily broke the silence, though. “so now i have to literally kidnap my best friend just to talk to her?”
leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, bianca tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well she was about to crack. "i wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. matt and nick were giggling like literal idiots.”
when chris didn't answer, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, she tried again. "so, uh... what is this, exactly? christopher. seven minutes in heaven? you know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"
“no, if it were seventh grade, you wouldn’t be ignoring me and acting weird.”
"i’m not acting weird.”
"then why can't you just look at me?" chris asked, frustration creeping into his voice.
"i-"
but as soon as chris opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop talking. “you’ve been avoiding me like the fucking plague all week, and i need to know why."
bianca wasn’t avoiding chris.
or at least that’s what bianca has been telling him ever since he first confronted her about it. he showed up at her house a week ago, climbing through her window as he refused to use the door like a normal person, planning to stay up all night with her because og fortnite had just dropped, though she made an excuse about being sick and ushered him out of her house, causing him to be very confused because she looked fine at school earlier.
he brushed it off and didn’t text her the next day. when bianca was sick, she liked to be left alone; she hated people being around her when she was sick. but when three days had passed and she still hadn’t contacted him once, he attempted to call her, asking her what was wrong and why she was avoiding him. she couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, so she said she was still sick, and then hastily hung up the phone, avoiding his texts afterwards.
in school, when he attempted to approach bianca at her locker in hopes of talking to his best friend, whom he hadn’t seen or spoken to in four days, she rushed towards her class, pretending she didn’t notice him; she was running out of excuses.
the truth was, bianca couldn’t look her best friend in the eye anymore, let alone be in his presence, after the dream she had of him.
she sighed and looked down at the floor. “it’s nothing, chris; i’m just confused, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong; i promise it’s just...” she trailed off awkwardly.
there was a shift in the air, and the tension dropped as chris’s face lightened. hearing that bianca wasn’t mad at him was a relief. he rose from his place on the bed and walked over to her, stopping right in front of her.
“hey b?” he gently lifted her chin up, looking deeply into her eyes. “i’m not mad at you, okay? i was just worried; we used to tell each other everything, and then you started acting like this, and it’s been driving me crazy because i didn’t know what to think," he admitted.
"i know; i’m sorry." bianca finally mustered up the courage to meet his gaze. her eyes softened slightly at his concern. "it’s just... well, you know how crazy dreams can be sometimes," she added sheepishly.
"bianca..." chris sighed softly before wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close against his chest. he rested his chin on top of her head, savouring the familiar scent of her hair. "i promise i won't judge you for whatever it was. just, please, talk to me about it." he pleaded softly, hoping she would finally break down and tell him what had been bothering her all week.
bianca sighed, her body leaning into his warmth. "okay, fine," she muttered reluctantly. taking a deep breath, she began to explain, "it’s just that... well, i had this weird dream about us... you know?" she stuttered, her cheeks turning crimson red.
chris raised an eyebrow. “oh yeah?” he asked. his sweet tone started to fade away as he smirked slightly.
bianca just nodded her head, missing the smirk in his tone as he asked, “what happened in the dream?" though he kind of had an idea already, and he’d be lying if he said the images weren’t going straight to his dick.
"in the dream, we were both, you know..." bianca managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.
“oh, i think i know.” chris’s smirk grew wider at her discomfort, his eyes glittering with excitement. "and what happened next?" he prompted, eagerly waiting for her reaction.
bianca swallowed hard, her heart racing faster than normal. "uh, i was riding you.” she admitted weakly.
“that sounds hot."
bianca’s eyes widened as she pulled away from chris. “what?” she asked in shock. she couldn’t believe she was even admitting this to him.
“you heard me.” chris smirked.
bianca’s face reddened slightly, and chris smirked. “what do you say we make your little dream come true, hm?"
bianca bit her lower lip, her eyes darting around the room nervously. "chris, we can't!" she protested weakly.
"no?” chris raised his eyebrows. “if i pulled your panties aside, you’re telling me you wouldn’t be dripping?” he asked, noting how her thighs were pressed together.
"i... i..." stuttering, bianca couldn't find the words to argue anymore. her body was betraying her, and the warmth between her legs confirmed it all too well.
"come on, ma,” chris said as his hands trailed down towards her ass, squeezing them tightly. “made you feel good in your dream, hm? let me make you feel good in real life.”
unable to resist any longer, bianca nodded, and chris grinned triumphantly. he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her hungrily, their tongues tangling together in a messy dance. chris suddenly motioned for her to jump, and she instantly complied, jumping and wrapping her legs around chris’s waist as he kissed her harder, walking towards the bed and pushing her onto it. he pulled apart from her lips, his lips covered in her lipstick, though he didn’t seem to care as he said, “tell me what i did to you in your dream, ma.”
"y-you were kissing my neck, and then you started to undress me slowly,” she gasped as chris’s lips attached to her neck, bitting, licking, and kissing her skin. his hands trailed down her body, making their way to her back as he unzipped her dress effortlessly while still kissing her. she gasped as the dress fell and his hands started to cup her breasts over her bra.
“like this, ma?” he asked.
"mmm..." bianca groaned, enjoying the sensation of his hands on her breasts. "yes, just like that," she managed to croak out between moans.
"good girl," chris praised, pulling away from her neck long enough to whisper into her ear, "now tell me what happened next." he nibbled lightly on her earlobe before sucking it softly, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.
he continued to tease her nipples through her bra, making them harden further. "come on, mommy,” he teased, knowing that was a secret kink of hers that he heard her overshare one time. “don’t be shy; tell me what i did next."
she couldn’t help it. the use of the word mommy always made her feel some type of way, so she no longer held back. "you pulled my panties down, and you fingered me."
"that’s a good girl," chris praised as he finally took her lacy bra off and sucked on her nipple harshly before turning his attention to her wetness. he began to rub slow circles around her clit through her underwear, creating waves of pleasure that radiated throughout her body. "tell me how bad you want me to touch you there, ma," he demanded huskily.
bianca moaned loudly, her body arching into his touch. "please, chris. i need you to touch me." she begged, her voice hoarse with desire.
chris grinned triumphantly, his eyes glittering with satisfaction. he hooked his fingers underneath her underwear and pulled them down slowly, revealing her smooth, shaven pussy to him. "just like that," he praised before lowering his head and sucking her clit between his lips, his tongue flicking it teasingly.
bianca moaned so loudly that chris had to place his hand over her mouth. "you need to be quiet, b. don’t want people to hear us, do you?” he asked as he inserted a finger and wasted no time in moving it quickly in and out of her, smirking as she threw her head back.
"after all, that would mean i’d have to stop, and you don’t want me to stop now, do you, baby?”
bianca nodded frantically, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "no, please don't stop." she begged, her body trembling with desire.
chris chuckled darkly, his finger moving faster inside of her, hitting her g-spot just right. "you’re such a naughty girl, bianca," he teased before suddenly stopping, leaving her hanging on edge. "but i’ll reward you for being so good." with that, he slowly inserted another finger alongside the first one, stretching her tight entrance as he began to thrust them in and out of her wet pussy.
bianca whimpered softly, her nails digging into chris’s back for support. "more, please, give me more," she begged, her voice shaking with need.
"mhm, i don’t know, ma,” chris teased. "is this better than your dream?” he asked.
"yes, yes, it's better," bianca panted, her voice barely above a whisper.
chris chuckled again, his fingers picking up the pace inside of her and hitting her g-spot harder and faster. "that’s a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "now, spread your legs wider for me."
bianca complied, spreading her legs apart as wide as they could go, exposing her sensitive folds to him. her body trembled in anticipation, begging for more.
chris didn't disappoint her. he added another finger, stretching her tight pussy even further. "do you like that?" he asked, his voice gruff with lust.
bianca nodded. “yes, chris, i love it,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back as she felt her legs start to shake. “chris, fuck, i’m-“
"cum for me, baby."
with one final push, bianca’s body convulsed violently, and she cried out his name as waves of pure ecstasy washed over her. her juices coated his hand and arm, leaving a sticky mess on the sheets.
chris smirked and lowered his head to kiss her sweetly on the lips. “you did so well, you know that?" he told her, his voice husky with satisfaction. as bianca caught her breath, he undressed himself quickly, revealing his hardened dick, which was dripping with pre-cum. "we’re not done yet, though, ma."
bianca moaned at the sight; she didn’t expect him to be that big. chris chuckled at her reaction and attached their lips together again. bianca moaned into the kiss sucking on his tongue as chris flipped them over so she was on top. she broke away from the kiss and looked at him in confusion.
“wha-“
he stopped her. "if i remember correctly, you said you rode me in your dream, hm?” he asked as she nodded her head.
chris grinned. "well, it’s also my dream for you to ride me. wanna see those tits bounce for me, ma.”
she nodded nervously, her hands shaking as she reached down to guide his cock into her tight entrance. slowly at first, bianca began to lower herself onto him, groaning softly as the head of his cock brushed against her sensitive spot.
“oh fuck," she gasped, her eyes wide with surprise and pleasure. "chris, you're huge."
“that’s it, ma,” he moaned back, his hands on her hips, guiding her up and down his length. "take it all."
bianca moaned and sank right down onto his lap, the pair both groaning as they looked down and realised their bodies were perfectly aligned. she slowly rode him up and down, her breasts swaying enticingly with each thrust.
his hands gripped her hips tightly, guiding her movements while his tongue traced along her neck and collarbone.
“that’s it baby," he panted, "ride me like you mean it."
bianca moved even faster, throwing her head back. “feels so good, daddy,” she moaned, and chris’s eyes darkened.
"that’s it, ma," he growled, his hands moving to cup her ass firmly, encouraging her to ride him harder.
bianca picked up the pace, her breasts slapping against his chest with each thrust. the rhythmic motion of their bodies created a symphony of sounds that filled the room—moans, gasps, and the wet slapping of flesh against flesh. their combined moans echoed off the walls, making them both lose themselves.
"i’m so close, chris." bianca gasped as he sucked on her nipple harshly.
"me too, baby," chris groaned, his own climax nearing. he increased the speed of his thrusts, matching her rhythm perfectly. their bodies slapped against each other in sync, creating a perfect rhythm of pleasure and desire.
bianca’s orgasm built up quickly, and she cried out his name as another powerful wave of ecstasy washed over her. her tight pussy contracted around his cock, milking him dry. when she finally came down from her high, she collapsed on top of him, panting heavily.
chris followed suit moments later, his own release filling her up completely. they lay there for a moment, their breathing gradually returning to normal.
“fuck that was.” bianca stuttered to out of it to even form a sentence.
chris chuckled and slowly pulled out of her. he headed towards the bathroom in the room, returned a moment later with a warm washcloth, and began gently wiping the mess they made off her thighs. bianca smiled softly, and once he was done, he helped her put her panties and bra back on.
he pecked her lips softly. "you okay?” he asked.
“never been better," she replied.
“good.” chris smiled. “but next time something happens, promise you’ll tell me instead of avoiding me?”
“if this is what happens afterwards, then I'll be telling you about every dream i have.”
｡°✩
not a chris girl but this could of single handedly converted me
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We Fight, We Make Up
Summary: Harry gets turned on when you yell at him.
Requested: Nope
POV: 2nd
Word count: 3.4k
Warning(s): Unprotected sex, slight degradation, slight spanking
The argument happened before the night even started. You didn't even wanna go. You wanted to stay in the hotel with your husband. Alone. Without having to share him with anyone else. Recently, you have been missing him. Yes, you see him every day and fall asleep with him every night; but you felt like you had to share him with the entire world. When he wasn't on stage in front of his thousands of fans, he was either at the gym or working with his team, writing new songs, and talking about new plans.
Tonight was one of his rare nights off and of course, he and his team wanted to go out. He wanted you to go with him and you did, but you were grumpy from the moment he brought it up to the moment you're at with him now.
You were arguing while you got ready. Harry didn't understand where you were coming from. You were on tour with him. You were with him every day, went everywhere that he went, and got to sleep next to him every night. He thought you were being a bit needy and selfish. He didn't say that to you of course, but he definitely voiced that he thought you were being irrational.
Once you had met everyone in the hotel lobby, you both put on your brave faces, not wanting to draw any attention to your problems. You tried to forget about your current struggles and have fun while you could. Neither of you drank that much. You just were not in the mood and Harry had a show the next day. It was only occasional that he would drink while on tour, but never when he had a show the next day.
Once the night was over, the argument continued.
"Y/N, baby, I dunno what you want me to do. We're on tour, this is my work. I can't spend every second with you."
"Oh my god, Harry. You know I'm not asking you to spend every second with me. I just want some alone time with you. I told you I feel like I have to share you with everyone and never get any time just you and me."
"But we do get alone time. We got a whole room to ourselves. I give you a cuddle while we fall asleep every night. Why is that not enough?"
"It's not about being enough. It's about me feeling like you're not prioritizing me or wanting to spend any time with me."
"This is the first tour that you've been able to come with me for every show. This is what it's like. I don't get alone time. This is my job. I can't just drop it all to spend time with you."
You were starting to get angry, "You don't work every hour of the day! Tonight - I told you beforehand that I didn't wanna go and I wanted to stay here with you but you wanted to go out instead."
"Well, yeah because I've got a night off and wanted to have fun with everyone."
"Exactly! Everyone. You didn't wanna spend time with me. You spend time with them every fucking day and the one day you have off you choose to be with them."
"Y/N, you-" he started before you cut him off, your voice raising in frustration, "Harry, you're my fucking husband! I shouldn't have to beg you to spend time with just me!"
All of a sudden, a cheeky, slightly evil smirk arose on his lips and his eyes scanned your body up and down. It was very rare that you got angry when you argue with him, you usually just get really sad. Your disagreements are usually quiet and filled with tears. It was your least favorite thing to do. You hated having serious conversations with Harry and couldn't help but cry when they happened. Harry was a sympathetic cryer so when you cried, he cried. In the 10 years that you and Harry have been together, you only yelled at him in an argument probably 4 times. So, he found this moment quite amusing.
"Why the fuck are you laughing?"
"I'm not," he chuckled looking up at your angry eyes.
He kept that smirk on his lips as he stared at you deeply, your blood beginning to boil as a breathy giggle left his lips.
"Oh my god, I'm so sick of this," you snapped, turning around and getting ready to storm into the bathroom.
"Y/N, stop."
He was quick to grab your arm, pulling him into you and wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from running from him. Placing both hands on his hips, you glared up at him, "What?"
He didn't reply, his eyes bore into yours while he was pushing your hips against his, jutting his out to show you exactly what he was feeling. You could feel his tight bulge straining in his slacks against your pelvis and you could not believe what was happening.
"You're hard?" you replied as your lips mindlessly curved up in amusement, "Why?"
"Dunno, you rarely yell at me when we argue. It's kinda sexy," he replied, his voice slow and deep.
"What?" You were the one laughing now, "You're not supposed to get turned on. You're supposed to get pissed at me."
"I am pissed at you. But you're fuckin' cute when you get angry." He looked you up and down once more before adding, "Might be this outfit too."
"Oh my gosh, I wanna be mad at you so bad because of this but I'm really amused."
"Are we about to have angry sex?"
You didn't even answer him. You immediately pulled him down by the back of his neck and attacked his lips with yours. He kissed you back, moving in sync with you. His tongue caressed your lips, tasting you as you backed him up against the edge of the bed. The backs of his knees hit the mattress and he immediately sat down, pulling you with him. Pulling your dress up past your hips so you could spread your legs, you straddled his lap. His hands immediately went to your ass, cupping and squeezing it.
You continued to kiss him, making out like you were teenagers. Your kisses were fast and sloppy, your panties dampening as you ground your hips against his center. You ran your fingers through his dark hair, tugging at the soft strands gently. You felt your clit throbbing in anticipation and you knew you couldn't wait too long before he filled you up.
Your hands frantically slid down his body, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You had been so upset with him, you had overlooked how good he looked tonight. He wore a white button-up, only having the bottom two buttons tied together to show off his tanned, tattooed chest. He paired it with a pair of black slack pants and white loafers that he had slipped off the moment you got back to your room. He had his famous cross and phallic banana necklaces on and had rings lined on almost every one of his fingers.
You slid his top off of his shoulders and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. His glistening skin and dark tattoos were now on full display for you. You ran your fingernails across his body, feeling every inch of his torso that you could reach. You continued to grind your center against his, circling your hips so his bulge rubbed perfectly against your clothed clit.
"I want you so bad," he breathed out and you hummed against his lips in agreement.
His fingertips grabbed onto the hem of your silky dress and pulled it up over your head, tossing it with his shirt. Your lips only parted to pull the dress off, immediately attaching again once you were exposed to him. His hands reached behind your back and unclasped your strapless bra with ease, letting it fall onto your lap. After grabbing it and tossing it, his hands cupped both breasts and kneaded them harshly.
His kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck, kissing, nipping, and sucking at all your sweet spots. You let your head fall to the side to give him more access and hummed in satisfaction. His lips trailed even further down until they latched onto your right breast. He sucked at your nipple, hand still kneading your left one. Flicking his tongue back and forth against your bud, your back arched into him. Nibbling on it, you whimpered and he pulled away, giving your other breast the same amount of attention.
Returning back to your lips, he tugged on the band of your panties, acknowledging that he wanted them off. You stood up in between his legs and pulled your panties down your legs, letting them pool at your feet. While you did that, he unbuttoned the button on his pants, lifted his hips, pushed them down his thighs, and pulled them off his legs.
Both of you were now completely naked and exposed to each other. You straddled his lap again and he reached down between your bodies, sliding his fingers between your folds to feel your wetness. He groaned softly as his middle finger and ring finger slipped past your opening with ease. You mimicked his moan when his fingers began to move in and out of you, the coldness of his peace ring and his pearl ring sending chills up your spine.
"Jesus, Y/N, I'm so fuckin' horny right now," he groaned desperately.
"I need you inside me," you whimpered into his ear, equally as desperate, "right now, Harry, please."
"C'mere," he hummed.
Pulling his fingers out of you, he wrapped his arms around you and stood up. Turning around, he laid you down on the sheets with your hips at the edge of the bed while standing in between your spread legs. He grasped onto both of your ankles and hooked them around his shoulders. Wrapping his right palm around his member, he wasted no time and immediately positioned his swollen tip at your entrance, sliding in while he hovered over you. You both let out moans at the euphoric feeling of him filling you up. He stilled inside of you, allowing you a minute to adjust to his size. His forehead rested against yours and he grunted softly when he felt you clench around him.
Leaning back up, he grabbed onto each of your thighs to ground you. Not holding anything back, he began thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. He knew your body like the back of his hand. Knew every single one of your sweet spots and every single movement that made you putty in his hands.
His thighs slapped against yours and your breasts bobbed with each hard thrust of his hips. Your orgasm was quickly starting to grow closer and you found yourself clenching around him each time his tip brushed up against your good spot. Your face contorted with pleasure and you tightly gripped the sheets below you.
"Oh fuck," you whimpered softly, "Harry, yes!"
"Is this what you wanted?" he grunted in between stagged breaths, "Just wanted me to fuck you like this?"
His fingertips dug into the skin of your thighs, most likely leaving marks for you to complain about the next morning. The bed squeaked under you and you knew the backs of your thighs were quickly turning bright red with the repetitive slapping. It was purely a pornographic scene and you were in complete and utter bliss.
"Answer me."
"Yes, yes," you chanted, "I needed this so bad. Needed you, Harry."
Lifting your head slightly, you looked down and watched as he disappeared in and out of you. He was slick with you, sparkling against the light in the room. You could physically hear how wet you are for him. His movements intensify that sound with each thrust. You let your head fall back down to the bed and look up at him. He's looking down between your bodies, watching what you were just watching. His eyebrows were furrowed together and his jaw hung slack as he breathed irregularly.
You watched as his muscles clenched with each thrust, a sheen layer of sweat beginning to form on his skin, glittering his tattoos. You let your eyes squeeze shut as the pleasure grew. You felt his left hand leave your thigh and immediately grasp onto your breast, squeezing it and allowing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch at your nipples.
Without warning, he wrapped his hands around your sides and flipped you over so you were on your belly. He tapped your hip gently, acknowledging you to sit up. Resting your elbows on the sheets to support your body, you stuck your ass up in the air for him, leaning back and pressing into him. He positioned at your entrance again and started back up where he had left off.
The sound of his skin slapping and your wetness continued to echo loudly throughout the room and if he wasn't making you feel so damn good right now, you would be worried about people outside the room hearing.
"Talk to me. This is exactly what you fuckin' wanted so tell me how good I'm making you feel."
"No," you whimpered, trying to get a rise out of him, "you don't love me anymore."
"Say that one more time and I'll spank you 'till you cry," he grunted.
You grinned at his words. You knew he wouldn't actually spank you until you cried, but you wanted to challenge him, "I'm not wrong."
His hand swatted at the fullest part of your ass and you squealed at the slight sting, his rings he never took off intensifying that sting. He never spanked you super hard, just enough to get you to straighten up when you were being sassy with him.
"Wanna try me again?"
"You never give me attention anymore."
Another spank landed across your ass and you moaned, his hand massaging the area to soothe the sting, "You're such a brat. You're asking for it now, aren't you?"
After one more smack against your skin, he grunted and his thrusts came to an abrupt stop. You were about to protest but then felt his big hands collecting your hair. He switched all of it to one hand, holding it up into a ponytail. He tugged on it, pulling your head back so that he could easily lean down to nip at your ear lobe and you couldn't help the moan that left your lips. Using his free hand, he grabbed onto your hip again and began thrusting.
"Want me all to yourself all the fuckin' time, huh?" he growled into your ear, sending shivers up your spine.
"You're mine," you moaned, "Don't like sharing you."
"Fuckin' selfish is what you are," he grunted in your ear, "Can't get enough of me, huh?"
You moaned in response, breath hitching in your throat before he continued, "Got people wanting my attention left and right and you only want me for yourself. I can see why though, with how good I make you feel. Not once have I ever failed to have you fuckin' trembling under me, babe."
"You're such a fucking narcissist," you grunted, words coming out strangled.
He chuckled deeply, biting on the shell of your ear, "It's the sole reason why you married me, innit? 'cause of how easy I can get you to scream my name?"
"Fuck off," you groaned and he chuckled again, loving how he got to you.
"Got the sexiest girl in the world to be my wife. How can I not be narcissistic?"
"Mmm," you whimpered, ignoring him, "Want more."
"More? Am I not giving you enough right now?"
"No, gimme more."
"Greedy, greedy girl. You're my greedy girl though, that right?"
You hummed in agreement as he let go of your hair, your head immediately hanging low. With both hands now on your hips, fingertips gripping your skin tightly, he changed his rhythm. Fast and hard. Exactly what you wanted right now.
"I'll give you whatever you want. Got me wrapped around your little finger."
"Obviously not, or else we wouldn't be in this situation right now," you grunted in sync with the smack of his hips against yours.
"Still mad at me, huh?"
"Just shut up and make me cum," you groaned.
You heard him chuckle behind you as he kept his rhythm, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm by the second. His thighs smacked against yours and the sound echoed throughout your hotel room. Your breath was hitched in your throat, your face contorted with pleasure and your jaw slack as moans occasionally escaped when your hitched breath allowed.
He got so deep inside you, hitting your special spot just underneath where your clit was located with each thrust of his powerful hips. His fingers were gripping your hips tightly, nails carving crescent moon shapes within your skin. Your clenched around him and you could feel every inch of him moving against your walls.
"Oh, Harry," you whimpered into the sheets and Harry's heart swelled as he noticed how much you needed this. How much you needed him.
With the length of his thrusts shortening and pace only slowing down slightly, he leaned down and pressed his back against yours, cupping your waist to pull him into you.
"Haven't been giving you the attention you deserve, have I, baby?" he grunted into your ear, words in sync with his thrusts.
"Mm mm," you whimpered, his lips against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
"Been neglecting my favorite person in the world. My beautiful wife, fuck, I love you so much."
You couldn't even reply. Your voice wouldn't let you, the only thing you could get out was moans of pure pleasure by not only him inside of you, but also him finally giving you exactly what he wanted. His hands slid up your torso and gripped your breasts, squeezing them as his thumbs flicked over your nipples. You could tell he was close by the way his member twitched inside of you, his strangled moans, and the feeling of his face contorting against your back.
"Need you to cum, baby." he breathed out, "I can't cum if you don't cum first."
"I need-" you began and it was like he read your mind, fingers heading straight for your throbbing clit and rubbing it side to side vigorously, causing you to breathe out, "Yeah."
It didn't take much longer before your body became numb with pleasure. You were trembling, screaming into the sheets beneath you, knuckles turning white with how hard you were gripping the covers. Harry continued his movements to carry you through your orgasm, causing it to pulse through you in waves, euphoria completely clouding your mind.
You came down from your high with heavy breaths, the continued stimulation from his thrusts sending a new wave of pleasure over you. When it became too much, you whimpered and he pulled out, groaning painfully, "Where do you want me?"
"My back," you breathed out.
You laid down on your stomach and moved all your hair to your front, while he continued to pump himself to keep his orgasm from falling. Once you were in position, he pressed one knee to the bed to angle himself above you. It was only seconds before you felt the warm feeling of him painting your back with his creamy release, your jaw falling slack. Moans of pleasure fell from his lips as he worked himself through his orgasm, pleasure consuming his body just as it did you only seconds earlier.
Once he had milked the last of his orgasm, he immediately got up to grab a few tissues to clean you off.
"You okay, babe?" he asked while wiping the tissue across your skin.
"Mhm," you hummed in response, ready to just fall asleep in his arms.
Throwing away the soiled tissue, he stated, "All done."
You turned over onto your side and he laid down next to you, pulling you into him, breathing out, "Didn't lie when I said I always get you trembling under me, huh?"
You rolled your eyes teasingly at him, "You're so annoying."
"I love you. You know that, right?"
"I know. We still need to talk though. The problem didn't just go away 'cause you're good in bed."
He chuckled deeply, "Can we talk tomorrow? Just wanna hold you right now."
"Yeah, lemme go to the bathroom then we can go to bed," you replied as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom.
"Love you, sexy," he teased, landing a soft smack across the curve of your ass as you got up.
You giggled, "I love you too."
#one direction#harry styles#harry#one direction smut#harry styles smut#harry smut#one direction fanfic#harry fanfic#harry styles fanfic#one direction fanfiction#harry fanfiction#harry styles fanfiction#harry one shot#one direction one shot#harry styles one shot#one shot#one shots#harry styles one shots#harry one shots#one direction one shots#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n
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How about the farmer and bachelor hiding in a small place. Like they are hips and chest pressed against each other. The farmer doesn't noticed but the bachelor is going wild over the limit space between them. You can make it nsfw I don't mind! :)
This took me forever to get to I’m so sorry! Also these are mostly just lewd as opposed to like whole nsfw but Sebastian and Alex’s got full nsfw 😂
Content warnings: mostly gender neutral reader except Sebastian’s is afab reader, reader calls Sebastian daddy once, Theyer long as hell, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE
Small spaces but big opportunities with the bachelors
Shane:
He wanted to come to the mines with you, mostly out of curiosity but also because he wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything to dangerous
Thankfully the level that you had gone to didn’t have to many monsters on it and while he still thought that maybe it wasn’t the best place, he could see the appeal
At least until you both fell into a kinda deep very narrow pit
He landed flat on his ass and you landed unceremoniously on his lap, very much straddling him
After making sure neither of you were seriously injured you began to look around
“How on earth are we gonna get out of this? Does this happen to you often in the mines?”
Shane’s very concerned and trying very hard to ignore your chest being almost in his face
“Well no, I mean the tv said I’d have bad luck today but I didn’t think anything of it!”
Shane stares at you blankly for a moment “the tv said…okay we can unpack that later, for now we should figure this out”
He tried to shift around a bit but quickly stopped as the friction of your body rubbing against the crotch of his pants caught him off guard, thank god it’s a little dark and you can’t see the red now painting his face
He’s got his hands resting on your thighs, you try shifting around to see if you can maybe stand up but his grip tightens and you could almost swear he moaned a little bit
“You okay? You said you weren’t hurt! What hurts? Do you need a health elixir? I have extra in my bag”
“No, no sweetheart that’s not it, I’m not hurt just, fuck”
You just noticed the bulge straining against his shorts and pressing against your inner thigh
“Oh” you hadn’t noticed until now that he had gotten hard
“Fuck I’m so sorry I-“ he got cut off as you ground down against him
“Shit sweetheart, you sure you wanna start this right now?” He’s practically growling out his words with how gravely and husky his voice is currently
“Never been more sure, sir”
He has a sir kink, fight me on it
He tightens his grip on your hips to help you grind against him while he smashes his lips against yours in a very heated kiss
Harvey:
You were in the tiny medical closet at his clinic looking for some gauze he had asked you to grab for him so he could restock the drawer
It was taking a moment though so he came to check on you and ultimately the door accidentally shut behind him
It locks from the outside automatically
Harvey is now chest pressed to your back due to the confined space in the closet, hardly enough room for you to try and turn around
“Well hey there doc, whatcha need?”
“The doors locked and maru doesn’t get here for another hour, this wasn’t supposed to happen”
He’s trying not to focus on how warm you feel pressed against him, how perfectly your body fits against his, and how the sudden proximity has his dick stirring in his pants
You’re squinting to see in the dark closet and all but have to stand on your tippy toes to read if the label in front of you reads gauze
“Just as well because this feels like a lost cause, how do you find anything in here?”
Your ass brushes against the growing bulge in his pants and he has to stifle a groan at the contact
“We can find it later, just stay still please”
He’s sounds strained, and then you can feel it pressing into your back
“Harvey, are you hard right now?”
This mans spilling apologies from his lips so quickly
“I’m so sorry this was never meant to happen your just very pretty and being stuck in the little closet with you isn’t helping and-“
You cut him off by bringing a hand around your back and gently grabbing his bulge
“I don’t mind, gives us something to do in the meantime” you would wink at him but you arnt facing him and the rooms dark
“I- are you sure? I want this but I need to know you want this as well”
You’ve been pining after the doctor for like a year and a bit at this point so of-course you want this
“Yes I want this Harvey, touch me, please”
How could he say no when you ask so politely
Sam:
Not so much trapped in a closet together as it is playing seven minutes in heaven at a party Abigale was throwing
You picked his name out of a hat and then got promptly shoved into a very small closet with him
Chest to chest, Harley enough space to breath without feeling his heart beat against you
“We uh, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to”
He’s always considerate of your comfort
“Time starts now! Have fun~” you could hear Abigail’s voice fading away as she walked back down the hallway
“Sooooooooooo, think there’s a light in here orrrrr we just gonna make out in the dark?”
You meant to ease the tension with a little joke but god do you wanna kiss him
He’s taking the dive, hands on either side of your face as he presses his lips to yours
With only a little struggle in the confined space you managed to wrap your arms around his neck
Soon he’s trailing kisses down your neck, leaving little bites here and there just so he can hear the way you try not to whine
Your hands down the front of his jeans slowly stroking him
“Fuck sweetheart, wish we had more time. Wanna take this to your place?”
Yes you do in-fact want to take this to your place
Which is just as well because Abigale is knocking on the closet door to tell you your times up and that you both better have pants on
Elliott:
Had he meant to be stuck in a small crevice in the forest with the farmer directly underneath him? No
But his little outings don’t seem to want to go to plan these days
He does however, appreciate the view of you, underneath him red faced as he tries to find a way to get up that doesn’t involve accidentally standing on you
“Must be exhausting holding yourself up like that, you can lay down I don’t mind a human weighted blanket”
God your adorable
Only lets some of his weight rest on you
“Well, this isn’t the best circumstances but even so you still look absolutely ravishing”
Meant that to be an inside thought but alas, it became an outward thought. He wishes lightning would strike him if that didn’t mean you would also be in harms way
“Well your not half bad yourself handsome, lemme just”
You gently pull his hair back into a ponytail with a hair elastic you keep on your wrist for him
That’s all he needs to lose composure, soon enough y’all are making out in the crevice
Wondering hands and gentle nips across your neck are enough to get small gasps out of you
God you sound amazing he thinks
But he’s not about to bed you in a hole in the ground, he’s more romantic then that
But the moment y’all get out and head back to his beach shack?
Soft gasps turn to moans, hushed whispers turn to loving praises, wondering hands stray further beyond the elastic of your underwear as he shows you just how good he can be with his hands
Sebastian:
You and him went swimming, despite his dislike of the activity he was always willing to go with you
You had wanted to explore a little cave like opening in the stone of the mountains near the lake and he came with you to make sure your good
And that’s how you end up here, stuck pressed against each other in your swimsuits, stuck between two particularly close stone walls
Sebastian’s trying to look anywhere but at you to avoid popping the most awkward boner in existence
“Well this is less then ideal, sorry Sebastian I didn’t think we would get stuck”
You feel a bit bad since you know he’s probably pretty uncomfortable right now
“Th-that’s okay, not your fault”
He has one hand behind your head so you don’t accidentally smack it on the hard rocks, his other hand is on your waist because it felt right to place it there
“Well, atleast the suns setting so you won’t get burnt”
“And we’re basically skin to skin so we probably won’t freeze”
He tried to lighten the mood a bit, it worked since you let out an airy laugh
“Could be worse, atleast I get the hot emo boy to keep me company”
Now he’s blushing, from chest to forehead just red
“You think I’m hot?”
Definitely had a voice crack in that statement but you ignore it much to his prides pleasure
“Absolutely, hottest guy in town”
Your trying to kill him he’s convinced but atleast he’ll die happy
“Fuck baby you can’t just say shit like that while pressed against me”
You can feel his erection pressing into your stomach
“Hmmmmmm maybe I’m prepared for the consequences”
The hand that was on your waist gently wraps around your neck as he pulls you into a heated kiss, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth while you gasp against him
You manage to bring your legs up enough to sort of trap his hips against yours as you grind against him
He moans against your lips before pulling back to trail kisses down your neck, leaving a few hickeys on whatever spots seem particularly sensitive
Meanwhile you’ve pulled his cock out of his swim shorts and lined him up with your cunt, gently rubbing the head through your folds for a moment before grinding your hips down just enough to sheath him inside
“Fuck, so fucking tight around me baby”
You whine into his skin as you hide your face into his neck, he’s gently thrusting into you as much as the little space will allow him to do
One of his hands travels between your body’s to start rubbing little circles on your clit while you fist your hands into his hair
“Shit seb, feels so fucking good”
He whines quietly at your praise as he can feel the knot forming in his stomach, he’s close to cumming but thankfully so are you
“Not gonna last much longer baby, cum with me, yeah? Think you can be a good girl and cum with daddy?”
Your nodding frantically as you start to spasm around him, milking his cock for all its worth
He slams his hips into you once more as deep as he can before filling your warm walls with his cum
Somehow all the movement you guys have done has wedged you free, no longer stuck in a tight spot your heading back to his place for round two
Alex:
You and Alex were exploring the deep woods together because he wanted to know what types of things you do in your day to day
He was not expecting the woods to be full of slimes trying to kill you but ya know, it’s always an adventure with the farmer
That’s how you end up in a small cave pressed against each other while you patch up a small wound on his thigh
“You okay? Your being pretty quiet up there”
He’s trying not to focus on how close to his dick your hands are so he doesn’t get hard
It’s not working very well
“I’m fine, just a little scrape I’m sure it’s okay”
“Yeah but it’s better to take care of it now, don’t want it to get infected”
He knows your right but also your hands brushed by his cock and now he’s got a semi
And it’s hard not to notice especially when it twitches as your hands brush over it again
“Baby, sweetheart, love please, you gotta know what your doing to me”
Your feigning innocence because it’s a little entertaining watching him be so flustered
“Hmmmm i should make sure your not injured anywhere else”
Your hands are on the buttons to his jeans looking at him for permission to pull them down
He knows the game your playing, so he lets you
You’ve got his cock out and your gently stroking your hands up and down his shaft, adjusting the pressure to what gets the best reaction out of him
“Oh fuck sweetheart that’s so good”
He’s putty in your hands
You decide to go for double kill and gently lower your mouth on the tip, sucking lightly while you stroke his shaft
He’s moaning loudly now, one hand in your hair to start bobbing you up and down on his cock
“Shiittt baby gonna lemme cum down your throat yeah? Please”
How could you say no to such a nice request
You relax your throat as best you can and take his whole cock into your mouth at once, he’s cumming in seconds
You pull back and swallow as you smile up at him
He needs like ten minutes to recover but he’s returning the favour twice over
#stardew fanfic#stardew valley#stardew farmer#stardew x reader#stardew headcanon#stardew marriage#stardew elliott#stardew shane#stardew harvey#stardew sam#stardew sebastian#stardew alex#sdv smut
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Middle of the night
Request by anonymous here
Warnings: pure smut, g!p!reader, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, edging ig, i think that's all
Words: 1.4k
Tara's POV:
It's currently 3 a.m. and I've been awake for an hour now, I can't sleep for one really specific reason:
I'm horny.
I woke up at 2 a.m. after an erotic dream with my girlfriend, and now I can't get it out of my brain. I need her now, but I feel kinda guilty waking her up for this. She won't get that mad if I do wake here up, right ?
Ah, fuck it, she'll eventually forgive me.
“Hey, love, wake up.” I nudged her arm softly just enough to wake her up. “Baby ? What's wrong ?” Her eyes slowly opened, but she quickly sat up, analazing my body. I could read panic in her eyes, so I immediately calmed her down, not wanting her to think something bad happened.
“Don't worry, nothing bad happened, it's just... I'm horny.” I looked at her eyes, biting my lips waiting for her answer. She let out a small laugh as her body relaxed. She slightly shook her head before looking back up at me. “Oh my god. Are you serious ?” She asked still in disbelief that I woke up her because of my horniness, “Yes, very serious. I need you to fuck me, y/n. Please.” I could tell she was trying her best not to break the eyes contact, but she misserably failed and looked away.
However, my eyes didn't leave her face, only waiting for her to look back at me. When her eyes were back on mine, it took her a few seconds to breathe out her next words, “You're crazy, Tara.” She looked away once again, but this time, I held her chin with my fingers to make her look right back at me. Even with the darkness of the room, the only light being the moon reflection through our widow, I could still see how red she became, and I planned on making her redder.
“Then, fuck the craziness out of me.” I whisper in her ear, I couldn't help but smirk at her reaction. Her eyes widden and I could feel her face heating up on my fingertips.
Isn't it insane how someone can look this flustered, and yet that same person can take your ability to walk away ?
“So ? What do you say ?” I teased her a little more, which seemed to have unlocked something in her brain because she finally gave me an answer.
“I'm down.” Without missing a beat she got on top of me and kissed me, our tongues fought for dominance, but I eventually let her win (the woman has too much ego), her hands were rooming around my body quickly undressing me, leaving me with just in my panties. Her mouth left mine to press hot kisses all over my skin. I let out a breathy moan when I felt her mouth on my right breast, she was being taking her time but my hunger was too big for her little games so I gripped her hair harshly to pull her more into me.
She moaned at the sudden action. Her moan was surprisly loud until I realised pushing her into me and also made her bulge jerk against my thigh. She repositioned herself between my legs, and this time she started to grind against my still covered cunt, my hips instantly followed her mouvement. She switched from my right breast to the left one, giving it as much attention.
We were grinding against each other like dogs in heat. Our make-out session was initiated again after she left her marks everywhere her mouth went. I was starting to get impatiant, the need to feel her was becoming unbearable, I let my hand travel down inside her grey sweats pants, rubbing her through the fabric of her boxers, she instinctively jerked against my hand.
“Tara,” She breathed out, “let's stop the teasing, alright ?” For this once she looked straight in the eyes, lust and desire being the noly things I read in them, I can't resist to that look and she knows it.
“Alright.” I whispered, fuck she can be intimidating. She kept her eyes on mine as she slowly goes down to my private area, using her teeth to take my panties off. She carelessly throw them somewhere in the room before going back between my thighs, I could feel her hot breath on my clit, making me shiver under her. She didn't waste any more time and started attacking my clit, sucking, biting, nipping, kissing it, she was already starting to abuse my pussy within 10 seconds of her mouth on it. Her eyes never left mine during the entire process until now her focused was fully on my swollen cunt.
Not that I'm complaining.
She pushed my thighs higher to have better access to my entrance. She suddenly slammed two fingers inside of me, I screamed out her name but hushed myself up with my palm. Her fingers were moving with a rentless pace inside of me, her mouth was still sucking my clit like it was her last meal.
“Fuck you taste so good, love” She hummed into my pussy, I couldn't even process what she said my mind was too lost in pleasure to even care.
“Fuck, yes, keep going, baby !” I moaned out, she went harder, so much harder the bed started to move with me. I was getting close, my back arched off the matress of the bed, my walls squeezed her fingers thighly, my eyes rolled to the back of my head, my body started to shake but she pulled out before I could cum. Leaving me confused and frustered.
“What the fuck, Y/n ?” I asked, clearly annoyed. She didn't answer the way I expected her too, she just passoniatly kissed me. I obvsiouly kissed her back until I felt something streching me out deliciously. That definitly wasn't her fingers. She swallowed my moans before disconnecting our lips, “Satisfied now ?” She asked breathing as heavily as me. “Yeah, ve- very.” I whined as she went faster not really letting me give her a proper answer.
She buried her face in my neck, and she grunt next to my ear, which turned me on more if that's even possible. Her groans turned into moans when my walls wrapped her length tightly. My nails digged into her shoulders, her cock twitched as she whined quietly. She held herself up with her hands on my hips, the new angle gave her a chance to go harder and she didn't miss that chance. I wanted to hold into something as I started to sob soflty. I tired to keep my arms on her shoulders but her thrust were too powerfull for me to keep my arms there, so instead I held her hands the best I could.
“Oh god, Tara, you feel so good, love.” I heard her groan out. My only answer was a moan, but that was apparently enough for her because she went faster, causing me to moan louder, which I guess woke up the neighbourhoods. None of us give a fuck though.
“Fuck ! Yes, keep going, baby.” I was getting close, I know she was too. I could feel her dick throbbing inside of me, her thrust became irregular, but deeper.
“Tar, I'm close.” Her right hand moved next to my head. Her other hand was holding the back of my thigh because my legs were slowly giving up the hold they had around her waist.
“Me too, babe, 'm gonna cum.” And with that we came together, moaning if not screaming each other's name. Her thrust slowed down, she softly kissed me to distract me from pulling out of me. I whined at the emptiness. “Wait here a sec.” She pecked my lips before getting up, I smiled to myself like an idiot looking at her.
She came back with a wet towel and glass of water, and she gently cleaned me up, kissing my thigh as she did it. I patted her hair, smiling down at her. She smiled back at me, coming up to me kissing me with pure tenderness. She pulled back to hand me the glass of water, then looked at me like a lost baby.
I laughed at her face and cupped her cheek. “In the first drawer, baby.” She opened the drawer I was mentioning and took my birth control pills, I hummed a small 'thank you' as I swallowed the pill.
She helped me get under our blanket, and she pulled me closed to her to kiss my nose. I giggled at her action before doing the same to her. “I love you.” I mumbled, “I love you too. Good night, sweatheart.” She whispred.
I closed my eyes, satisfied that I got what I wanted. I quickly fell asleep with a content smile on my face.
I'll wake her up in the middle of the night more often.
I think that's the first time I've written a g!p!reader. What are we thinking gays ?
Have a good day/night. Love ya <33
#jenna marie ortega#jenna ortega#oneshot#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega imagine#jybyls' writing#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter x female reader#tara carpenter imagine#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#Spotify#g!p!reader
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OMGSHHA I LOVE YOUR BLOG UGHHH this has been on my mind for a little while but keigo breeding reader like crazy because baby boy is in a rut and can’t keep his hands of them he just wants to breed them so good he can’t help itt 😣😣❤️
Can't Help Myself.
includes— hawks x gn!reader. minors dni. smut.
warnings— rut. breeding kink. biting. keigo getting lost in the sauce and trying (failing) to be nice. he can't help himself :(
Your doting boyfriend has always been quite handsy, but lately Keigo's been... Excessive? Desperate, more like.
"Fuck— 'M sorry," he pants above you, eyes glazed over and bottom lip quivering as the tight vice of your body just won't let him go. His tongue feels too heavy for his cotton-dry mouth, his palms clammy as he paws at your chest, neck, hips— anywhere he can get his greedy hands on.
You both know exactly what he's apologizing for, though you don't think it's necessary. He doesn't want to be too rough with his baby, his sweetheart, his lovely darling; but how can he treat you with the tenderness you deserve when wrecking you feels so good? When every backstroke sucks him in like a vice, as if you're just begging to keep him inside and fill you to the brim? Just the thought of your body responding so earnestly, of it begging and ready to be bred, sends a sharp current down his spine. It's electric.
And it goes straight to his cock.
How would you look when he's filled you, he wonders? He can't stop his attention from drifting, can't stop himself from visualizing the look of your jaw slack, his name dripping from your lips as he pulls out and obscenely fucks his cum back into you.
The sounds it would make... The ring it would form around the base of his cock as he twitches and pumps load after load inside you...
He needs it. He needs it like he needs air to breathe.
It's quite the contrast to his typical giving nature. The thoughtful, attentive Keigo who's gentle fingers would bring you to orgasm at least twice before he even thought about undressing himself is long gone.
Gone is the man who'd whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he rocked careful thrusts to the rhythm of the kisses he'd plant on your collarbone, gone is the man who took his time in breaking you down into fits of pleasure only he could provide.
He wants to be that for you right now. Honest. He is trying, you know.
His restraint doesn't go unnoticed. There's a pause in his thrusts, a pained look in his eyes as he tries so desperately to take it slow. Each time his hips cant forward, a breathy "hah" escapes his lips and his brow furrows just a bit deeper. He can't push his baby too much, no, but fuck this isn't enough. Tears of frustration burn at his eyes as he holds every cell in his body back from what his instincts scream and beckon him to do.
God help him, he just needs to breed you for all you're worth, just needs a couple loads stuffing you to make him normal. He needs to fuck you like rabbits, sweet and slow be damned.
Little does he know, you've caught on to his predicament.
His breath catches in the cutest squeak when you fist the roots of his hair and yank his head to the side to meet your heated gaze.
"You want to be a good boy, don't you?"
Eyes impossibly wide, full of fearful adoration and eager to please, Keigo nods sharply.
"Yeah, I—" he fucking whines, leaning his head into the grip you have on his scalp. "Wanna be good." He blinks away the tears sticking to his dark lashes before looking to you for orders.
Pretty little puppy, you swear to god.
"My pretty boy," you coo. He shudders in response, melting and gooey in your grasp. Pliable. "C'mon, Kei', let go for me?"
He winces, shaking his head to free himself from the places his mind is going. He begins to rock his hips again, feathers trembling with barely concealed restraint. He tries to ground himself by mouthing at your exposed chest. It doesn't work.
You roll your eyes. Of course he'd be stubborn; but you know exactly what will bring him to his knees.
Leaning into the crook of his neck, you let out an unabashed moan directly into his ear. He goes rigid.
"Keigo, breed me?" His eyes open wide, breath stopping completely, as if he doesn't want a single sound blocking his focus from your words. "I need you, please— has to be you. No one else." You run your fingers up the expanse of his back, digging your nails into the tender skin. "Fuck me, breed me, do whatever you want to me—"
He can't take any more. He plants a palm over the headrest with a firm thud and fucks you with the speed and fervor of a man possessed, a man obsessed.
"Whatever I want, huh?" The far-gone way he slurs the words out has you shivering. You grip his shoulders for dear life, high pitched, pretty little moans settling in his bones. With each punishing thrust, they seem to get louder and louder. Music to his fucking ears, he thinks.
You're close. He can feel it in the way you're squeezing the life out of his cock— greedy for it. You're the perfect little outlet for all his rutting frustrations, and he just wants to take.
When it hits you, you feel the air leave your lungs. You hook your trembling legs across the small of his back, back bowing as you wring and milk his cock for all it's worth. "That's it, dove— oh, fuck me," his harsh pace never slows, even as you squirm and hiccup beneath his grasp. The fact that your orgasm is pulling him in, like your body itself knows that he's aching to fill you breaks what little restraint he has left.
"Take it baby, need to breed you— inside, inside," he practically babbles into your shoulder, his hips losing focus. He can feel himself throbbing inside you, pumping his hips as he chases his own climax.
When he finally finishes, he can't stop shivering and snarling into the skin he's latched onto, the very skin he's sunk his teeth into.
He does good on his promise, indulgently toying with the mess he's created inside you. Mesmerized, he doesn't let you waste a drop, pushing it deeper inside.
You let out a sigh of complete satisfaction, prompting a dazed chuckle from above.
"Oh, no. We're not done here, sweetheart. What was it you said? 'Whatever I want', yeah?"
#hiii sorry i made him a bit baby gurl here#got lost in the sauce myself. thank you for the ask !! <3#💌 asks#🖋 writing#🌶 spice#hawks x reader#bnha x reader#keigo takami x reader#hawks smut#keigo takami smut#smut mention#mha thirst#bnha thirst
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episode five: dig dug
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.”
“Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”
He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
Summary: you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.
Rating: general, swearing and slight violence
Warnings: blood, use of y/n, fem!reader, animal cruelty technically, weapons, cursing
Words: 7.5k
Before you swing in: hello ! late chapter update, but here ya go lovelies !! lots has happened recently, i got a sick ass job and im super excited and :))) so updates will definitely slow down again some more, but i promise i will update whenever possible. for now, please enjoy !
–
“Remember how angry I was at you about hiding El from me last year?”
“Yeah?”
“Visualize the anger, multiply it by ten, and then take three steps back from me.”
Dustin trips over his feet to scramble away from you.
You’re currently in your own room, the door locked, with Dustin standing several feet away now as he heeds your warning. Never in your life have you felt such rage before, such blinding fury, and you thought you knew what anger was when your dad left.
But this? This is a new type of anger, one you know that only the older sister to Dustin Henderson could ever feel.
As soon as Dart had lifted its head up at you and screeched, you’d immediately snatched your brother’s hand into yours and ran out the door, door slamming behind you. Now, you’re hiding out in your room with no fucking clue what to do.
“You killed our cat.”
“Technically Dart did.” You glare at Dustin. You had actually liked Mews, she was the sweetest cat in the world and a gift for your fifth birthday. Your brother, sensing he’s only digging a deeper hole for himself, coughs. “I mean… Yeah. I killed our cat.”
Stepping back, you find your desk chair against your legs and fall into the seat. Exhaustion sweeps over you. There’s no time to grieve the loss of your cat. Not when there’s a baby demogorgon in Dustin’s room eating said cat’s corpse still. “What do we even do in this situation?”
“Not tell mom?” Again, you glare at Dustin and he squeaks in fear. “Well I mean, that’s all I can think of right now!”
A headache forms. “I should’ve gone with Jonathan and Nancy.”
Dustin thinks for a moment. “Where did they go, anyways?”
“No. You don’t get to ask any questions right now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You sigh, a vague idea forming in your mind. “Okay, first we need get Mews out of the room. She was mom’s favorite child, we can’t just leave her in there to be diminished to bones.”
Dustin nods. “Obviously. We can do that… right?”
“We have to. Once she’s out of there, we just… leave Dart in there. At least for now. It’s already late in the afternoon and we need so much help from the party.”
“We can’t tell the party–”
“You’re right. We can’t,” Dustin sighs with relief, but you give him an evil smile. “But you can tell the party. You’ll radio everyone tomorrow, clean the house, and make a plan from there.”
Dustin tries to argue, but you hold a hand up. “You brought a baby demogorgon into our house. You lost every arguing privilege there is to lose.”
He groans, knowing you’re right. Next time, he’ll be better at hiding things from you because you’re a total buzzkill whenever you inevitably find out.
Together, the two of you hatch a plan. You’ll walk into Dustin’s room first, knives out and ready just in case, and Dustin will follow once the coast is clear. Then, he’ll lure Dart away from Mews’ body with chocolate (you don’t want to ask why), and once he’s gone you’ll snatch your cat’s body and flee the room immediately afterwards.
It’s a good plan.
That is, if it works.
“Ready?” You’re standing in front of Dustin’s door, your knives flicked open in your hand, ready for possible war with a foot long little demon.
Your brother pats your shoulder. “Don’t die, sis.”
“I’m holding knives as we speak. Touch me again and die.”
“I hope Dart eats your face.”
You smile. “There’s my brother. Okay, as soon as I’m inside the room, close the door. Then, when I knock three times, open it again and enter.”
“Wait for two knocks–”
“Three.”
“Three knocks. Right.”
You steady your breathing. Around the corner, you can hear your mom humming to herself as she makes dinner. She has no clue what’s going on, and you envy her for it. Your hand on Dustin’s door knob twists slowly, then, before you can psych yourself out, you turn the knob and throw yourself inside.
Quickly the door slams behind you, so at least Dustin did something right.
Your eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut, open slowly. When you don’t see any sign of Dart, you exhale. So far, so good. You walk towards the couch and find the creature still eating away at your dead cat, which you gag at.
Poor Mews.
You rap your knuckles against the door three times, alerting Dustin to come inside.
He opens the door and walks in, his hands fisted against his face as if that would do anything to keep him safe. You roll your eyes and flick his head, which he whines at. “Grab the chocolate and distract Dart, please.”
Dustin runs over to his desk and grabs a Musketeers bar. When you see the candy’s name, you want to slam your head against the wall. You know exactly why the monster’s name is Dart.
“Let me guess,” you say, your tone mocking. “D’Artagnan?”
“Don’t you have a corpse to collect?”
You scoff at him but step aside so that he can dangle the chocolate in Dart’s face. You watch, alert for any signs of danger in case you need to step in, but the monster seems to be pretty friendly with Dustin. You guess they really did create a bond.
Once Dart is far enough away from Mews, you run over and snatch up her body. You try not to think about the possible cat guts now all over your sweater. That will be a later issue. Like a lot of things in your life recently.
“Go, go, go!” You push Dustin towards the door.
He doesn’t need to be told twice, throwing the last piece of the candy bar at Dart’s face and running out the door right behind you. Once you’re both out the room with the door closed, you both lean against the wall and exhale deeply.
“Good job. Now onto phase two.”
Dustin makes a face. “Why do I have to distract mom?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you hold up Mews’ bloody body. “Do you want to be the one to hold our dead cat?”
“Good point, I’ll go distract mom.” Dustin leaves, rounding the corner to go hopefully distract your poor mother in a sane way. With your luck, Dustin will spew some weird bullshit that will only make her more worried than she already is.
Right on cue, you hear Dustin say from the kitchen. “Mom, I think I broke my arm.”
The scream of fear your mom lets out would’ve been comedic had you not been holding her beloved dead cat.
Your mother runs around the kitchen, fretting over your brother, and the second she isn’t looking, you slip out the front door and quickly throw Mews’ body into your bush. You feel a bit bad about that, but there’s nowhere else to hide her body in broad daylight.
When you walk back inside, Dustin is being swaddled by your mother. “What did I miss?”
“Oh, Y/N!” Your mom sighs. “Dusty said he thought he broke his arm, but the silly boy seems to be okay.”
Dustin pats her back. “Ha, right. Silly me!”
Your mom looks up and then squints a bit, eying your sweater. You look down and your heart drops. It’s covered in Mews’ blood.
Fuck.
“Y/N, what’s that all over your sweater?”
“Paint!” You say while Dustin sputters, “Ketchup!”
“We… Were painting with ketchup.” You lie, sending a quick glare your brother’s way. Out of everything red, why ketchup?
“Oh, alright.” Your mom looks uncertain, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you go wash up, honey?”
The second you’re dismissed, you run into your room and yank the sweater off. You’ll burn it tomorrow. First chance you get.
A few seconds later, there’s a knock on your door before Dustin’s head pokes inside. “Dinner’s done.”
“Great. Holding your dead cat definitely works up an appetite.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dustin tries to play it off, but you see the genuine upset in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, and you know he loved Mews too.
You sigh and walk over to him and kiss his curls. “It’s okay. Next time, let’s not hide a monster from the Upside Down, yeah?”
“Deal.”
–
Dustin spends the night in your room, which you explain to your mom as needing some “serious bonding time”. She tears up at this, unaware of the fact that you’ll be making your brother sleep on the floor as punishment.
The next morning you and Dustin hatch yet another plan: get mom out of the house. Before you two can do anything else, you both agree that your mom cannot be anywhere near Dart. Plus, she’s already noticed Mews’ absence, so it’s only a matter of time before she finds the body in the bush.
“Alright, you’ll fake the phone call while I start gathering the supplies.” You tell Dustin while your mom calls for Mews outside. She’s at the bottom of the driveway, Mews’ favorite toy in her hand, shaking it around, unaware that the cat’s dead body is in the bush next to her.
“Got it. You remember where my old hockey suit is?” You nod at Dustin’s question, and he’s about to say something else before he sees your mom start walking back towards the house. “Shit! Game time, go!”
Dustin fumbles for the phone and you run to the living room closet. Just as you’ve entered your positions, your mom walks through the front door.
“Mewsy! Dusty, Y/N, sweethearts, you’re sure she’s not in your rooms?”
“No, mom.” You shake your head at her.
Holding up a finger, Dustin presses the phone to his ear and motions for the woman to remain quiet. “Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much, you are a true lifesaver.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. He’s laying it on pretty thick.
“Alright, this was great. Thank you, have a good one. Bye-bye now, all right. You too.” Dustin pretends to hang up the phone and smiles at your mom. “Alright, great news!”
“They found her?” Tears of joy lace your mother’s voice. You have to turn away, you know she’d notice the discomfort on your face. It feels horrible to be lying to your mother like this.
Dustin seems to be thinking the same thing, because he lowers his voice and gently approaches her. “No, but they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”
More tears flow down your mom’s face. “How did the poor baby get all the way over there?”
“I don’t know, lost I guess. But they’re gonna look for her, and–and Y/N and I will stay here, just in case they call again. Right, Y/N?”
“Right!” You call from the closet, now quickly grabbing everything you can think of. Would a hammer be necessary?
“And you’re gonna go help look. Yeah?” Dustin’s only response is a relieved hug from your crying mother. “Yeah, give me a hug. Go get her!”
Your mom quickly composes herself and grabs her glasses. She presses a kiss to your forehead and seems to be in better spirits. “We’ll find her!”
“Mews will be home soon, mom!” You cheer, and your mom blows you another kiss.
“I love you,” Dustin sends her a thumbs up.
“I love you, kids.” And with that, your mom clutches her purse to her chest and sends one final kiss your way before shutting the door behind her.
As soon as the door shuts, you and Dustin scramble. Dustin heads to the backyard to open your cellar doors and you grab the remaining hockey gear from the closet. While you drag the uniform out to the living room, your brother begins to look through the fridge for any possible bait.
“Think Dart would like bologna?” Dustin calls over his shoulder as he digs around.
You groan, dropping the heavy goalie pads. “Last I checked, he wasn’t my secret Upside Down pet.”
“Touche.”
Dustin grabs the bologna and starts making a trail from his room towards the front door. While he does that, you start sorting through your own pile of gear, soccer to be specific. Dustin liked hockey, you preferred warmer sports. As you’ve finished lacing up your cleats and shin pads, Dustin returns.
“Okay, the bait is all set up. Got my hockey stick?”
You hand him what he needs. “Here, and your helmet is on the couch.”
Dustin gets ready and you retrieve some oven mitts from the kitchen. When you hand them to the boy, he looks at you like you’re insane. “What? Extra protection. Can’t hurt.”
He sighs and swipes them from your hand, putting them on. Once he’s ready, you help him stand up. He looks ridiculous in his old hockey gear, but you suppose you don’t look any better with your shin pads and Dustin’s spare shoulder pads.
“Alright. We all set?”
Dustin pats his helmet. “Ready.”
You walk towards his room, and once you’re there, Dustin pushes past you and bends down a bit so he can speak through his keyhole. “Alright, Dart. Breakfast time.”
“Do we have to mention breakfast right before we set him free?" You mumble, but your brother ignores you.
Slowly, he reaches towards the door handle and then flings it open. As soon as the door has been moved, Dustin practically knocks you to the ground in his haste to escape. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
His mantra reminds you of Steve’s from last year at Jonathan’s. Seems like the two boys have something in common: they’re idiots.
You follow quickly behind Dustin, terrified but at least trying to hide it, while your brother just repeats “oh my god”, and “shit” over and over again as he stumbles over the bait and out towards the front door.
If the situation wasn’t so grave, you’d be giggling at how dumb Dustin looks waddling over bologna on the floor. However, Dart could very well be right behind you, so you run after the kid equally as terrified.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit–”
By this point, you’re nearing the tool shed outside.
“I will push you down these stairs Dustin Henderson.”
Dustin shuts up and, as soon as you’re inside the shed as well, locks it behind him. Once he’s sure you’re all cleared, he lets out a breath of relief. “Okay, now we wait.”
You walk towards the wood panels, squinting as you peek through a gap to see outside. “I don’t see anything.”
Dustin does the same. “Come on, I know you’re hungry…”
Everything remains still outside, and you’re starting to worry that maybe Dart doesn’t like bologna after all, until you see his scaly body walk out the door. He gobbles down the bologna pieces one by one, which you cringe at.
“Yeah. He likes bologna, alright.”
Dustin silently cheers. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
Dart makes his way down the trail, eating every piece he finds, and soon he scampers down the steps and hovers over the cellar doors. In an odd way, the little guy is kinda cute if you forget about the fact that he killed your cat.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Dustin continues to chant as you watch Dart. The creature just has one more piece of bologna left, he just needs to take a few more steps inside before you can slam the doors shut.
But, because nothing can ever be easy for you, Dart suddenly turns and looks straight at you and Dustin. “Shit!”
You flinch back, knocking into a bucket of nails that spill everywhere. “Shit again!”
Dustin tries to shush you but you grab him by his shoulders and force him behind you. Your knives are out, their blades gleaming in the sunlight that creeps through the wood panels. You peek through them to find Dart slowly approaching the shed, his mouth almost watering.
“Well, this isn’t good.” You take a breath to lessen your fear. “Stay here, I’ll try to distract him–”
“AHHH!” Dustin shoves you against the opposite wall, your body flinging back with a harsh crash, and breaks through the shed’s door. With one solid wack from his hockey stick, he flings Dart into the cellar.
“What the–Dustin!” By the time you make it out the shed, your brother has flung himself on top of the cellar doors, panting.
“Got him,” he informs you, as if it isn’t obvious enough. Dart begins to screech with anger, and Dustin sighs. “I’m sorry, you ate my cat.”
“You’re an idiot, Dustin.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just give me five seconds to catch my breath, please.”
–
With Dart safely locked away, you and Dustin are able to finally bury your cat.
It doesn’t take long, but the early November heat is just warm enough to make you annoyed as you dig through the soil in your backyard. Dustin has his walkie with him, trying to find the right frequency so he can call the party and inform them of what’s going on.
“Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy?” You stab at the ground with your shovel and your brother groans when he gets no response. “This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”
Sweat trickles down your brow and honestly it should be Dustin burying the cat, but you’ve never learned how to radio the party so you just sigh and throw more dirt upon your dead cat. Dustin tries a few more times to contact the party, but no one responds.
“Damn it!” He shouts, frustrated.
“Language,” you huff out, more sweat forming.
It goes on like this for a while, Dustin trying and failing to reach anyone, as you two begin to clean the house of any blood and Mews guts. He tries again while you guys grab the cleaning supplies, then again while you’re on your hands and knees scrubbing his carpet in his room.
“Alright, it’s Dustin again. Seriously, I have a code red.”
“Maybe they don’t know what code red means?” You offer, your nose scrunched up due to the bleach fumes.
Dustin scoffs, “sure, and they also don’t know who Luke Skywalker’s father is–”
Suddenly Erica’s voice comes through the walkie. “Can you please shut up?”
“Erica?” Dustin stops scrubbing and straightens up. “Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Erica has always been such a lovely girl.
“Is he with Mike?”
“Like I said, I don’t know and I don’t care.”
You and Dustin share a look. It worries you that Mike hasn’t been responding all day. From what you’ve heard and seen, he’s spent every day this year camped out in his fort in the basement trying to contact El with the radio frequencies.
It’s not like to Mike to just disappear.
“Listen, Erica.” You speak up, trying to sweet talk to the girl. You’ve babysat her a few times and you’ve even managed to convince her you’re kinda cool, so maybe she’ll respond better to you. “Did Lucas mention anything else? Maybe… Maybe like a girl he went to see?”
Dustin frowns. “A girl? What–” You shush him and wait for a response.
Erica snorts. “A girl? Please, as if. He’s been gone all day. That’s all I can tell you.”
Your brother closes his eyes and sighs. “Please tell him it’s super important. Please tell him that I have a code–”
“Code red?” Erica interrupts.
“Yep, code red. Exactly.” Dustin smiles, then covers his mike to whisper to you, “seems like she likes me more than you–”
“I got a code for you instead. It’s called code shut-your-mouth.” Then, Erica switches off the walkie.
Dustin stares at nothing, dumbfounded. You go back to scrubbing the carpet, a pleased smile on your face. “So, you were saying?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, processing the fact that clearly no one in the party will answer, before letting out an obnoxious groan. “Damn it!”
“Are you gonna help me clean, or–?”
“Can’t you just call Jonathan?” Dustin asks, grasping at straws. “Maybe he can be useful for once and help.”
You shake your head. “No, he’s out of town right now with Nancy.”
“And you’re okay with this because…?”
“Because,” you roll your eyes, “they’re on a secret mission to take down Hawkin’s Lab. They’re at some detective’s house right now, so I have zero way of contacting them.”
Dustin rubs at his eyes tiredly. “How did we get stuck with a cat eating baby demogorgon while Jonathan and Nancy get cool spy work?”
You pinch his leg, causing him to wince and move away from you. “Because you purposefully hid the baby demogorgon. Any other stupid questions?”
“Sure,” Dustin throws his hands up in defeat, obviously joking when he asks, “got any other friend we could call for help?”
A sarcastic laugh escapes your lips and you’re about to tell him that he has more friends than you’ve ever had, but then a thought occurs to you.
Steve.
Technically speaking, you’re friends. Well, sort of. Sure, he had wanted space yesterday in the lunchroom, and yeah he’s still mad at you and things are awkward at best between the two of you, but still…
He’d been at Jonathan’s house last year, he had fought by your side and saved your life and even bought you a vending machine full of snacks. If anyone else could understand the situation you’re in right now, it’s Steve.
You hesitate though. He still seemed really hurt at lunch, but you also saw the way he lingered even after dismissing himself. He doesn’t hate you, at least not really, and without Jonathan or Nancy to call, he’s the only person you have left right now.
It can’t hurt to try, at least.
“Actually, yeah.” You respond after a minute or so. “Be right back.”
Dustin asks questions as you head towards the living room, but you don’t respond. If Steve doesn’t answer, then you can make up some lie about the phone being broken or something to save yourself the embarrassment.
Your fingers press Steve’s long remembered number. He had given it to you his first week of visiting you at Bookstrordinary, assuring you that you could call him whenever. After a while, you took his word on it and started calling the boy every time you were bored and alone at work.
The line rings for a few seconds, and you bite your lip in anticipation.
This is a horrible idea, and yet your heart flutters when Steve answers with a groggy, “hello?”
“Hey, Steve.”
“Y/N?” He sounds surprised.
You can’t blame him, he did quite literally yesterday tell you he’s still upset with you and that he needs space. And yet here you are: calling him early on a Saturday afternoon. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I really need your help–”
A sigh. “Normally I’d love to, but I’m kinda in the middle of getting ready to go to Nancy’s.”
“Nancy’s? Steve, she’s not even home–”
“Can we talk later? I… I’d really like to talk, if that’s alright with you.”
This throws you, and for a second you forget about the reason you called. “Of course we can talk, Steve.”
“Great,” you can hear a smile in his voice, which warms you. “I’ll see you later, then.”
Then you remember Dart and the blood on Dustin’s carpet and you frantically try to stop Steve from hanging up. “Wait, no! Steve, Nancy isn’t home and I really need you to–”
The line goes dead, and you slam the phone down. “Damn it!”
Dustin, hearing the commotion, wanders into the kitchen. “Take it the call didn’t go well?”
“No, it did.” Sure, Steve didn’t necessarily offer his help, but he did tell you where he’s going to be in about twenty minutes. You’ll ambush him there and demand he listen to you and help. As a bonding exercise, of course. “We’re going to the Wheeler’s.”
“Why?”
“Steve’s heading there.”
Dustin trips over his shoelaces. “Steve Harrington?”
“Long story,” you sigh, dreading that you’ll have to explain all of this eventually. “C’mon, let's get our bikes.”
–
You and Dustin get to the Wheeler’s before Steve does, which makes no sense to you but whatever. He’ll be here soon enough and you’ll ambush him with all your charm and maybe a bit of groveling. You’re not beneath it, if you’re being honest.
Dustin goes up to the front door while you stay behind, keeping an eye out for Steve. Ted opens the front door and while you can’t hear what he says to Dustin, you know he’s unamused by his presence. The father has never been your favorite parent within the group, honestly.
You watch as they exchange a few more words before you see Dustin sigh and angrily march back towards you. Then, right as he’s grabbed his bike, a familiar red BMW pulls up. Just seeing his car makes your heart skip a beat.
The car parks and a frazzled Steve steps out, carrying flowers and mumbling to himself. You aren’t able to hear everything he’s saying, but you can hear the words “what the hell am I sorry for?” and your stomach twists.
So clearly he’s not in a good mood. Still.
The flowers, which you now can see are roses, hang by Steve’s side as he fixes his hair. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and it takes everything within you to pull your eyes away. He looks good today, too good.
There’s a monster currently locked in your cellar.
“Steve!” You rush over to his side.
He does a double take when he sees you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“Well–”
“Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” Dustin now joins you two, pointing at the roses in the boy’s hand.
Steve looks between the two of you. “No…? You’re Dustin, right? Y/N’s brother?”
Dustin snatches the roses out of his hand. “Good, and yeah, I am.”
“Hey, what the hell?” Steve looks at you for help, but you know there’s no use trying to reason with your brother. He’s in a mood, similar to Steve, and you just sigh and follow Dustin. “Hey!”
“Nancy isn’t home.” Your brother informs Steve.
“Where is she?” Steve asks, and you hit his shoulder.
“I tried telling you over the phone!”
Dustin claps his hands at you to get your guys’ attention again. “It doesn’t matter where she is or if you tried to warn him, Y/N. We have bigger problems than your love lives.”
He’s at Steve’s car now and opens the passenger side door. “Do you still have that bat?”
Steve whips his head towards you. “Bat? What the hell is he talking about? Y/N, what are you guys doing here–”
“The one with the nails!” Dustin interrupts, exasperated.
Again Steve looks at you. “Why?”
“You’re not gonna like it,” you confess, and this only makes Steve feel worse.
“We’ll explain it on the way.” Dustin goes to sit in the passenger seat but he’s quickly stopped when you grab his hood and yank him out.
“No, absolutely not. I deserve the passenger seat, not you.”
Dustin slaps you away. “I got here first.”
“I was born first–”
“But I was literally about to sit down–”
“Hey!” Steve shouts, effectively shutting you and Dustin up. “It’s my car, and right now I currently only like Y/N, so she gets the passenger seat.”
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.”
“Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”
He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
He says it with annoyance in his voice, but you can see the smile he’s trying hard not to let slip, and you feel giddy. Steve obviously can’t be too mad at you if he wanted to talk later and is willingly letting himself be kidnapped by your brother.
Dustin, on the other hand, can’t believe any of this is happening. As soon as you’re all in the car he asks, “Since when did you two become friends?”
“I have a life outside of you and the boys, you know,” you tell him, but you avoid Steve’s gaze. It’s not like you intentionally hid this aspect of your life from Dustin, but… It also never came up, either.
“Sure ya do, but… Wait,” Dustin remembers something. “Oh my god, you have Steve Harrington’s number memorized?”
Your face heats up and Steve hides a smirk, but you see it anyway. You ignore his smugness and respond to your brother. “Like I said, I have a life outside of you.”
Dustin gapes at you. “I have so many questions–”
“I have an even better one: where am I taking you guys?” Steve asks, and suddenly you remember everything at stake.
“My house,” you tell him as you buckle up. He nods, although with some confusion, and then starts the engine. “You know how I called you earlier?”
“Yeah…?”
“Dustin, why don’t you tell Steve here what you found.”
Your brother sighs from the backseat. “A few days ago I found this… lizard of sorts.”
“A lizard.” Steve says, unimpressed.
“Oh, just wait,” you quip.
Dustin turns his head to glare at you and you give him a thumbs up. He scoffs at you before carrying on, “Yes, a lizard. I named him Dart and he was super cool, okay? I thought I had discovered a new species and that I would be super famous and better than everyone else.”
Steve glances at you next to him, raising his eyebrows and whistling low. “Wow, does humbleness run in your family, Y/N?”
“I’d say so, yeah.”
“Anyways,” Dustin interrupts, ignoring Steve’s laugh at your response. “Turns out, Dart is from the Upside Down.”
“The Upside Down?” Steve asks, extremely confused. He looks at you again in the mirror and it hits you that no one explained to him the events from last year. You assumed that Nancy would’ve, seeing as how they’ve been together for a while now and Steve had been with you guys at the hospital the night you brought Will back.
However, from his disbelief and confusion it’s clear that she hasn’t. If you had to guess, Steve probably went home that night and blocked out everything that had gone down with no questions asked.
You respect his repressing skills, honestly.
Dustin groans, beginning to grow impatient with Steve. “Yes, the Upside Down. If you have the bat still, how could you not know–”
“Do you remember that… thing we killed at Jonathan’s last year?” You cut your brother off before he can get too mean. You love the kid, you do, but he isn’t the kindest person when others aren't understanding him.
A dark look passes over Steve’s face and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. It’s night now, and the atmosphere in the car becomes tense. “I remember.”
You clear your throat, “Well, this creature–”
“Demodog.” Dustin corrects from the backseat.
“Demodog?” You turn in your seat to face him. “That’s what we’re calling it now? Seriously?”
He shrugs. “It’s a baby demogorgon, it looks like a dog, so… Demodog.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Alright. Okay. Whatever, this demodog is from the Upside Down. It’s this parallel universe, basically. Creepy shit happens there, and last year a monster–”
“The Demogorgon.” Dustin once more interrupts.
“Dustin, if you want to catch Steve up then for the love of god, please shut up.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.
A smile tugs at Steve’s lips and you take a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing. “Look, I don’t know how much Nancy told you about that night at Jonathan’s, but all that you need to know is that the Demogorgon took Will last year and we had to fight it in order to save him.”
Steve nods slightly as he follows along, “Nancy mentioned something about a monster at the hospital… she told me it’s what killed Barb, but never told me it had a name.”
Another silence falls between you guys in the car. The mention of Barb brings back bad memories for you both. You had liked Barb, she had always been nice to you, you guess. Hawkins is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and in the end the smallness of the town is what makes the Upside Down so hard. You lose people close to you, one way or another.
And as for Steve… The roses he bought for Nancy lay wilted in his backseat.
Dustin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and your heart pangs in understanding. He misses El, and you do too. The closer it gets to the anniversary of her disappearance, the more you miss the sweet and caring girl; but you know that the boys, Mike especially, haven’t given up hope for her.
“So…” Steve motions for you guys to continue explaining, and Dustin sits up in his seat to begin again.
“So flash forward to now: I didn’t realize Dart was a demodog until he grew like three damn sizes bigger than when I found him. Y/N and I almost died trying to lock him in our cellar.”
“Wait, you guys have a cellar?”
Dustin rubs his face, “That’s what you focus on, Steve?”
“It’s a valid question–”
“Guys!” You lurch yourself forward and wave your hands around wildly to break up their bickering. “We really don’t have time for this. Can we please just focus on the task at hand? Dart has probably grown even more during the course of this stupid conversation.”
Your brother’s hand pushes your shoulder back so that you’re now once again sitting, and you swat him away with annoyance. “Y/N, I’m trying! Blame Steve, he’s the one asking stupid questions–”
Steve speaks up, “What the hell? They aren’t stupid questions–”
“Well…”
Steve shoots you an offended look, “Y/N, I thought you were on my side.”
Dustin scoffs, hurt. “She’s my sister, you idiot!”
“Again, we seriously don’t have time for this because, once more: Dart is getting really big.” Your voice is louder this time, and thankfully it shuts everyone up. Then, just because you can, you add, “and I’m on Steve’s side right now. He’s the one with the car, plus… Well, I owe him.”
Steve fist pumps the air. “Suck it, little Henderson.”
“Do not call me that,” Dustin threatens him, then turns his attention to you. “First Jonathan, now Steve? Can’t you befriend anyone I like?”
The mention of Jonathan gets Steve attention. “Wait a sec, where is the guy? You never actually told me where he and Nancy went, Y/N.”
You sigh, knowing there’s no use keeping anything else from him. He’s already driving you and Dustin home to help with Dart, and you did promise to tell him where they were later, but life seemingly got in the way. “They’re playing detective right now.”
“Detective?”
“Yeah, the guy Barb’s parents hired… They’re currently at his place, exposing Hawkin’s Lab.”
A tense silence follows. Steve stares straight ahead, eyes on the road, as his expressions morph from hurt, to reluctance, to eventual acceptance. “Nance didn’t think to ask me to join?”
His voice wavers, just a bit, but you hear it. Knowing that Dustin is watching from the back, you decide to forget any possible boundaries for once and grab Steve’s hand. He’s hurting. The car smells of roses and there’s no girl to give them to. “She tried, Steve.”
He swallows. There’s hurt in his eyes and you want to reach out and stroke his cheek and tell him that it isn’t his fault. “I know…”
“Ahem,” Dustin coughs, clearly uncomfortable with whatever is going on. “So… Back to Dart.”
You clear your own throat, but your hand remains wrapped around Steve’s, who nods. “Wait a sec, how big are we talking?”
Without meaning to, you close your eyes and brace for Dustin’s witty remarks, but he surprises you by answering with a demonstration and zero mockery. “First it was like that,” he opens his fingers a few inches before using both hands to show about a foot in length. “Now he’s like this.”
Steve still looks doubtful. “And you’re sure it isn’t some weird lizard?”
A headache begins to form and you pinch the bridge of your nose again. “It’s not a lizard, Steve.”
“Well how do you know?”
“Because his face opened up and he ate our cat.” Dustin says bluntly.
This seems to shut Steve up and he nods his head in defeat. It’s silent in the car for the remainder of the drive, and just before Steve parks in your driveway, he looks over at you and sees your eyes closed in pain, and before he knows it he squeezes your hand and says, “sorry about your cat, by the way.”
Despite the pounding in your head and your utter exhaustion, his words make you laugh. “Just park, Steve.”
He smiles, feeling proud for getting you to laugh, and does as he’s told. Before you know it you’re standing at his trunk, staring at the baseball bat that saved your life last year. Dustin has already gone over to the cellar, waiting for you and Steve to follow.
The bat stares back at you, and you shiver as the memories come back. Though you had tried your best to forget that night, that entire week, honestly, it’s been useless. The nightmares still haunt you. You obsessively research trauma in children now to compensate for your own guilt from last year.
“Why’d you keep the bat?” You ask as Steve grabs it, giving it a practice swing. Your own blades are out again and he eyes their gleam.
“It’s kinda sick, don’t ya think?” He swings it again. “I look badass with it.”
He’s dodging, but you sense that he kept the bat for the same reason as why you kept the switchblade. You’ve been waiting in fear for something else to happen. “You don’t look too bad with it.”
Steve blushes a bit, which your stomach flutters seeing. “I, uh… Guess we can’t have that talk tonight?”
“No, not unless we somehow manage to deal with Dart in a timely manner. However, if I recall, nothing ever goes our way.”
“Nope!” He closes the trunk and tosses you a flashlight. Then, he sticks his hand out for you to shake. “But for now… Truce?”
You giggle. “Truce.”
His hand is warm, and even though you had just been holding it in the car moments earlier, his touch still fills you with a gooey warmth that you’ve come to associate with him. As soon as you and him are alone, away from Dustin’s nosy ears, you’ll really apologize to Steve. He may be being nice to you now, but he’s still guarding himself from you.
You hate it. You miss how open he used to be with you.
“Ready to go re-live my nightmares?” Steve asks.
You give him a thumbs up as you start heading towards Dustin. “Always, let’s go.”
“Took you guys long enough.” Your brother mutters when you and Steve arrive at the cellar, weapons in hand. You flash him an apologetic smile while Steve simply ignores him.
Steve approaches the door and listens for a second, “I don’t hear shit.”
You frown and listen as well. He’s right, it’s eerily silent. You shoot Dustin a questioning look and he shrugs as well, “He’s in there.”
“Duh, I know that much, You almost knocked me out when you shoved past me to get Dart in there.” you remark, before softly adding “he’s gotta be in there.”
Your words don’t reassure Steve, who begins to use the tip of his bat to bang against the locked doors. When nothing happens, he bangs harder against them before sighing in annoyance.
“All right, listen kid.” Steve begins, and you start to rub small circles into your scalp in a vain attempt to lessen your headache, because you already know that the next words out of his mouth will start yet another fight. “I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”
“Steve…” He ignores you and stares down your brother, shining the flashlight directly at his face in what you assume is meant to be a threatening manner.
“It's not a prank,” Dustin tiredly replies, squinting his eyes against the light. “Get it out of my face.”
Steve complies, still hesitant about the situation at hand, and turns to face you. “You got a key to this thing?”
You nod and fish the keys from out of your pocket and unlock the cellar doors. Steve bends down to investigate, and without him having to ask, you hand him the flashlight and step forward so that you’re next to him.
He flashes the light down the stairs and all that the three of you can see is darkness. An uneasy feeling creeps over you. Something isn’t right, but you really hope that you’re wrong.
“He has to be further down,” you say, more so to reassure yourself than the others.
Dustin shuffles his feet next to you and says, with an extremely unconvincingly “brave” voice, “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to… escape.”
Both you and Steve look at him in disbelief. Dustin stands his ground, however, and looks at the two of you expectantly. Steve shakes his head while you sigh in defeat. Your brother is such a pain sometimes.
“You do realize that if Dart eats me, you’ll have to deal with mom all by yourself, right?” You ask him.
The boy shrugs at you. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Y/N.”
“Yeah, love you too.” You mumble, before you begin to follow Steve down the steps.
“I’ll be thinking of you!” Dustin calls out, his voice echoing against the cellar walls.
You trail behind Steve, and the flashlight he brought does nothing to illuminate the dark area, so it’s a relief when he reaches above his head to turn the light on. As your eyes adjust to the light change, you scan the room to find the missing demodog. However, all your eyes land on is a long, thin sheet of film on the ground that you can only assume is molted skin.
“Oh, shit…” you breathe out. “This isn’t good.”
Steve picks the skin up with the tip of his bat and examines it and shakes his head. “Please tell me this isn’t Dart.”
“Actually, it’d be easier if it was him.”
Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke; he continues to look around the room before his eyes widen. You turn your head to see what’s caught his attention, and when you spot the problem, your knees weaken.
There’s a giant, Dart-sized hole in your cellar wall.
“Steve? Y/N? What’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice carries down to you guys, and you and Steve share a nervous glance.
“Dustin…” You call up to him, your voice weaker than you’d prefer. You wish you could be braver for him at the moment, but right now it takes everything within you not to crawl into bed and shut the world out. Why did it always have to be giant monsters?
While you’re reeling, Steve walks over to the bottom of the steps and flashes his light at Dustin, instructing him to come down. Once the boy has joined you guys, Steve guides the light to his bat so that Dustin can see the skin.
“Oh, shit.”
“Funnily enough, that’s what your sister said, too.”
Then Steve shines the light to where the hole in the wall is, and you watch Dustin’s face go from concerned to horrified. “Oh, shit!”
The three of you crouch closer to the hole, and when Steve shines the flashlight through it, your heart stops and you gasp, “It’s a tunnel.”
“No way…” Dustin says in awe.
It’s hard to see exactly how deep the tunnel goes, but something tells you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. This wouldn’t be some simple fix like you had desperately hoped it would be.
Now you really, really wish Jonathan were here. And Nancy. Definitely Nancy.
But they aren’t. This time, you’re on your own with only Steve and Dustin by your side. No one else in the party is available, you don’t even know where they are or if they’re even safe, but right now that doesn’t matter.
What matters is that Dart has escaped.
And it’s happening again.
Everything you’ve tried so hard for the last year to ignore, to move on and pretend never happened to you, has come crashing back into your life.
Steve, seeing your apprehension, grabs your hand and pulls you in close. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’ll be here, okay?”
Even though you don’t deserve his kindness, his sincerity, you believe him.
-
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#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#wtlws#m's writing#dart just wanted a quick snack guys#also dustin n bug are so so so sibling rn#i love em
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Slip of the Tongue
A mini series I 18+ I Enemies to lovers
Chapter two
Eddie Munson x neighbor! reader
Reader and Eddie are the same age - she's in College and he's repeating his senior year once again.
Chapter Summary: Eddie invites you back to his room for a one on one demonstration of his skills.
A/N: Sorry for edging y'all last chapter. This one's pure smut start to finish. Enjoy💛
Chapter warnings: Oral sex (f), fingering, squirting
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The stress had taken its toll on you.
Juggling two part time jobs while studying for your college midterms had you running on fumes, unable to unwind no matter what you tried. The little time you had to yourself was usually spent catching up on sleep but that wasn't ever enough to reinvigorate you, not when you had other needs that went unmet in the meantime.
You were desperate for some real stress relief, bordering on delirious. You had to be because how the hell else could you explain ending up in Eddie Munson's bedroom? Lying in his bed, your panties amongst the litter of cassettes and fantasy magazines strewn across his bedroom floor, and said boy's head between your thighs.
"You better not be wasting my time, Munson", you tried your best to sound tough, a near impossible task when his lips are brushing against your inner thigh, so very close to your slit. He had your skirt pushed out of the way to bunch at your waist, large, rough hands wrapped around your thighs which bracket his face.
"So feisty", he cooed back in reply, breath puffing warm against your core.
It's all so painfully surreal, being here like this, but you try your hardest not to think about it too hard for the sake of keeping your sanity intact. About how Eddie's got you laid out and completely exposed, your bare pussy mere inches away from the boy you'd come over to yell at, the same boy who'd caused a fair amount of the tension he's now offering to help relieve with his tongue.
"Don't worry. I'm going to take real good care of you", he breaks you out of your internal spiral, a teasing but lighthearted lilt to his voice as if somehow, he'd sensed your nerves.
And then he says, "You ready?"
It's a simple yes or no question, much easier than the ones you've been pouring over for days in your practice tests but you find this one the hardest to answer. Not because you're unsure of what to say – you had your answer ready and tucked at the back of your throat ever since his fingers climbed up your thighs to tug at the waistband of your panties.
No, it's because you’re certain that when you answer him, everything’s going to change.
"Yeah...go ahead", you manage to wring the words from your throat, fingers clenching his sheets, eyes trained up at the ceiling because watching him somehow feels like too much.
The few seconds that elapse before his mouth descends on you feels like you’re freefalling, a sharp, plunging descent with no way to prepare yourself for the impact of his tongue gently licking at your folds, thighs jerking as he lapped at the slick which had gathered when you watched him play through the window.
"Y' know, for someone who's always in a sour mood you taste pretty fucking sweet", he smirked, knowing it would set you off, thumb momentarily skimming your folds in place of his tongue.
Ordinarily, a comment like that would have earned him a knee to the groin but now, in this maddeningly bizarre situation you've find yourself in the middle of, your body reacts against its usual instincts, hips shifting off the bed to chase his mouth for more.
"Don't stop", you mutter loud enough for him to hear, tone somewhere between commanding and imploring, eyes slipping shut.
You've never felt a warmth like the kind that seeps into your veins like sunlight when Eddie's broad tongue parts your folds, licking his way up to your clit to lightly swirl the pointed tip over your sensitive bud, hands bringing your hips back down to bed to hold them firmly in place.
"Shit, Eddie that's...nice", you sigh out, perhaps the most civil thing you've said to him in weeks.
Everything smelled like him – the sheets, the pillows, even you, you realize as you turned to press your cheek against his mattress, your hair now carrying the same woodsy, smoky scent, inhaling a little deeper to take in that undertone of boyish musk you find yourself strangely drawn to.
His scent.
Another soft swipe of his tongue along your folds has your toes curling but what's makes the fluttering sensation brewing in the pit of your stomach grow stronger is knowing that he's carrying your scent too.
"Oh fuck..."
The way his tongue roams you is slow and lingering, not at all like what you'd watched him do with his guitar but fuck does it feel good, having his fingers press into the meat of your thighs like he’s afraid you might slip through them at any moment, teasing your clit with soft kitten licks, plush lips occasionally trapping the bud to suck lightly before releasing it again.
He's building you up for what's to come, taking his time to find out what makes your breath stutter and your spine curve in an effort to press yourself closer to him, getting you to loosen up and give yourself to him.
Minutes go by like this though you’re not sure how many. Ten? fifteen? maybe longer, of him lazily laving and sucking gently and it's amazing but it’s also only nearly enough, steadily stoking the fire inside you. It’s enough to draw out a soft pants and muffled moans out of you, enough to make all the tension that had wound you so tight begin to unravel but not enough to grant you the release you're seeking.
Chest heaving, you can’t bring yourself to beg, afraid of what you might sound like if you did, a choked whine of Eddie’s name so close to spilling from your lips already. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing it.
Angling your right foot, you’re able to reach down and press your heel into his waist, not forceful, just enough to make him pull away from cunt, lips sheened with your slick and chin brushing the soft curls on your mound when he peeks up from between your legs.
“Need more already huh?”, he beats you to it, knowing and smug.
As much as you wanted to deny it, you already missed having his mouth on you. Lips pressing into a thin line to show your annoyance, you try to grasp at the right words from the jumble of them knocking around inside your head, hoping to pick the ones that might help you seem less needy than you actually feel, not wanting to boost his ego more than you probably already have.
“What you did earlier when you were playing… that was different”, you point out carefully.
“I know, I’m just getting you ready”, he explains matter-of-factly, eyes dropping back down to your cunt, gently spreading your folds apart with his thumbs with rapt attention.
“I am ready”, you try to argue, a little breathless but firm.
Eddie meets your stern gaze again and gives you a skeptical look in return, holding your stare for a few more seconds as if assessing you before he ultimately yields.
"Alright alright. Listen, uh - this might get a little intense so just um… pinch my hand if it gets too much for you and I'll stop, okay?", he winds one arm around your hip, holding out his hand for you to take.
The shift in demeanor has you slightly taken aback. He’d been so cocky for most this, showing shades of something softer at times but this was the most blatant display of that side of him so far – no sass, no crude remarks, no teasing jab. It was a side you’d seen glimpses of back when you were in school with him, that considerate streak he was sometimes partial to like when he’d taken in those freshmen who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere else. You never thought he’d show you the same kindness, no matter how veiled. Part of you even thought you didn’t deserve it after all the squabbling you’d initiated over the years.
Tentatively, you stare at the hand he offers you, his words echoing in your head loud enough to override your temporary and uncharacteristic bout of guilt.
Intense? Too much for you? Fuck, it's so hard to keep from wanting to grind your core against his face when he says things like that.
"You're pretty confident, aren't you?", you say instead, stalling so that you could discreetly wipe your palm against his sheets before you place your hand in his, afraid yours might be sweaty.
"Yeah, I am. And for good reason", he grinned, curling his much longer fingers around yours as you rest your joined hands close to your belly button, hoping he couldn't feel the storm of butterflies flapping their wings wildly inside your stomach.
“Oh, but first–”
Despite your best efforts, you can’t contain the pathetic yelp he rips from you when he pulls you closer by his free hand, picking your legs up abruptly to get them over his shoulders, spreading you even wider and getting you so close that you’re practically locked in place.
"Eddie-shit", you try to scold but it’s no use.
There’s no more soft, gentle licking when he dives in, tongue moving boldly to pulse against your clit with enough pressure to make your whole chest feel like its crackling with pops of electricity. He’d warned you it would be intense and you learned he was a man of his word, thighs twitching and quivering around his cheeks and curtain of curls. You squeeze his hand instantly, not pinching, he notices, a sign that it’s okay to continue as you throw your head back.
Spiraling again, you’re at a complete loss as to how good this feels. It never felt this good with the other boys and it definitely didn’t feel like this even when you touched yourself. How could someone who’s never touched you until today be able to get you like this so quickly and so easily?
Well, the position certainly helped. You’re entirely at his mercy like this, pinned in place from the waist down, suddenly very aware of how strong Eddie really is, not what you’d expected of someone who spent most of his time occupied with fantasy games. He groans, deep and rumbling, the vibration of it travelling through you while you fight to keep your teeth firmly set in your bottom lip, starting to writhe as he alternates between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking on it, sloppy, wet, filthy sounds echoing plentiful in his bedroom.
It’s a riot inside your head – two thoughts competing and clashing fiercely; one part of you screams for him to slow down, that it’s all so much so fast despite having asked for it and the other roars back a resounding keep going, oh god, keep fucking going, overtaking the first.
But Eddie isn’t privy to any of this – you don’t want to let him know because even with the way he’s making it harder and harder for you to not just cry out for more, you’re much too stubborn to actually do so – knowing full well that if you were to let on just how much you’re enjoying his ministrations, he’d never let you hear the end of it.
Easier said than done.
Your resolve is withering at an alarming rate, not sure how long you can keep true to your vow of silence when he slips his tongue into your opening, pleasure and relief melding into one now that you have somethinginside you, curtailing the ache of being empty for this long. He fucks you with it, driving it in and out, lavishing you from the inside with every stroke and drag of the slippery muscle against your walls.
“Oh Ed– oh fuck”, you blabber, hips bucking up against his face. You clench around it, clit throbbing in the absence of his tongue swiping over it but the way his nose bumps the tender pearl with every sloppy thrust of your hips more than makes up for it.
He lets you rut against his face like that, only pulling back and away minutes later but you’re not left wanting for long.
A sharp gasp is pulled from you when a finger plunges into you, another joining not too long after. You feel stupid for forgetting how well those fingers moved on his guitar when he curls them inside you, long and thick, reaching deeper than your own, filling you better than his tongue did.
“Shit, listen to you”, he tutted, cunt sopping and squelching loud enough for your whole face to flare up. “Got this worked up just for me, huh?”
He wants to hear you beg; you know it. Rather than replying you whine between ragged breaths, containing the rest that threatened to spill out in moans and cries for more. But it’s nowhere near enough to satiate him now. Eddie frowns, face clouding with irritation. He wasn’t going to let you get away with stifling yourself any longer.
“Tell me how good I make you feel”, he says, tone losing its playful lilt and gaining a firm edge instead, eyes darkening.
“I’ve been real generous with you today – even after all your fucking attitude”, he punctuates with a particularly rough thrust of his fingers into your cunt, another gasp tapering into a whimper falling from your lips.
“Not g-gonna say it…” you tremor, so clearly affected by what he’s doing to you.
He laughs but there’s no amusement there, only something foreboding glinting in his eyes. “Can feel you, honey – trying so hard to hold back but you’re soaked and you’re squeezing me so tight”, sinking his fingers in up to the knuckles.
“C’mon, I’m not asking for a lot, am I? just say the words and I’ll let you cum,” he murmured, amber eyes hooded and locked on yours.
“Eddie-”, you start, hating how it came out all pitchy and wavering, hating it even more when you see how much he liked hearing his name leave your lips like that. “You said you would- this isn’t what we agreed- “
“Do it or I’ll stop”, he cuts you off, unsmiling. You can tell he isn’t joking when his pace falters and his fingers still inside you.
The fear of him stopping when you’re already so close rushes in with torrential urgency, no time to feel embarrassed by how quickly or how hard you squeeze his hand when you feel him begin to unweave his fingers from yours to make good on his threat, your steely grip preventing him from slipping away, begging him to stay.
“Please...”, you begin to crumble, breathy and desperate and aching for him to finish what he started.
The smile pulling at his slick lips tells you he’s appeased, pumping his fingers inside you again, slow but deep, stretching you well.
“Go on…” he encourages, speeding up when you let loose an unrestrained moan that comes out all high and pretty for him, helpless to his touch, your building arousal making you grow compliant.
“Fuck -Eddie, I’ve- I’ve never felt this good before”, you relent with a sob.
“Yeah? Poor baby – always working so hard… got no one else to take care of you. Needed it so bad, didn’t you? Couldn’t even control yourself when you saw me today, huh? Climbed in my bed and spread your legs even though you say you can't stand me”, he grins wickedly, tone thick with condescension.
He was right. For years, you were gasoline and him, the match, all of that smoldering friction between the two of you culminating in the most surprising way.
“But now you can’t get enough of me.”, he finished with a sneer.
Something new blossoms beneath your ribs – humiliation.
But instead of trying to shy away from it you find yourself welcoming the way it sprouts up like tendrils, winding around you all slow and creeping, all because you’ve been put in your place, rendered a mewling, gasping, desperate thing by the boy you’ve spent far too much time despising.
“Wanna feel your mouth on me again”, you blurt between pants, a broken, pitiful sound.
“Need you to make me cum – please”
He watches you struggle under the weight of your own desire, willing to debase yourself if it meant he’d grant you your release and it makes him chuckle, satisfied.
“Was that so hard?”, he flashed you one of those impish, shit eating grins before his mouth is on your clit again, fingers driving inside you in tandem. Your free hand shoots out to weave into his hair, clutching it like a lifeline.
The combination sends you careening towards the edge, the feeling starting to become too much when he sucks hard on your bundle of nerves but there’s no way to pull yourself away from him – not that you wanted to. Not really.
Your whole body tenses and ripples when it crests, something white hot barreling its way out of you – too fast and too intense to warn him, cunt fluttering around his moving fingers, thighs squeezing, throat growing hoarse from your cries.
It runs through you in crashing, gushing waves, leaving you shaking and keening, lungs burning for air until breath returns to you slowly, roiling intensity settling down into pulsing aftershocks. They subside when the afterglow comes next and you relish the way it drapes over your quivering body, lips trembling and chanting whispered exclamations of ‘oh my god oh my god oh my god’ up at the ceiling, still reeling from it all. It’s only when the sensation of weightlessness that had cradled you for those moments following your orgasm begins to recede that you spring up, elbows pressing into the mattress to support you, heart shooting up into your throat when you catch sight of Eddie.
And it’s worse than you thought.
His cheeks, mouth, jaw and neck are soaked, as is the collar of his shirt now clinging wetly to the dip between his clavicles. Oh shit it’s in his hair too, noticing a few dampened ends which stick to the fabric near his shoulders.
In the thick fog of your afterglow your mind turns sluggish – too slow to piece together what exactly had happened as your eyes lowered in search of what caused Eddie’s current state. Realization sets in after a few seconds of delay in the form of a swooping, twisting flurry in your belly, worsening when you find the same wetness coating your inner thighs and pooling on his sheets, your ass resting in a little puddle of well, yourself.
You've squirted all over his face and his bed.
"I've never done that before”, you breathe out, both stunned and mortified at what you’ve done. Though your worry lessens somewhat when you dare to look at Eddie again, the look on his drenched face telling you that he’s anything but upset about it.
“I’ve never made anyone do that before”, he utters back, sharing your surprise.
Your hand which somehow had managed to stay clasped in his throughout the whole thing is finally returned to you when you both loosen your hold on each other, awkwardly pulling away enough for you to scoot off the damp spot on his bed and for Eddie to ease up onto his knees, which he realizes a little too late was probably a mistake.
Your eyes dart to it when you hear his sharp inhale, widening at the sight.
There's a new elephant in the room to address now – the massive erection straining against his sweatpants.
Silence shrouds the room, both of you speechless, panting and sweaty. He makes no move to cover himself and you don’t think to set your gaze anywhere else.
You’re not sure why you did what you did next, only that you felt compelled to do so.
Easing up on to your knees, you come face to face with Eddie, skirt falling back down to conceal you. Your fingers move seemingly on their own accord, curling into the waistband of his sweats, fingertips grazing the hot skin that lies underneath and for some reason he lets you, watching you closely albeit a little disbelieving. This wasn’t part of your ‘agreement’. He’d offered to get you off and you had accepted but that was the extent of it, neither of you giving much thought as to what would happen after but here you are, chasing after more.
Inches away from his lips, you can smell yourself on his skin. That tangy, earthy essence he'd lapped at and drunk down so eagerly for the past hour. What made him like it so much? What made him want to do this all in the first place? You wanted to ask him but more than that, fingers tightening on the cotton waistband, daring to dip inside and skim the course trail of hair above his pelvis, you wanted to find out what he tasted like too.
You draw a little closer and so does he, nose brushing his, chin tipping up, eyes slipping shut…
But your lips don’t meet.
Whatever was about to happen is cut short then, the both of you whipping your heads in the direction Eddie’s bedroom door, on the other side of which comes the sound of the front door unlatching and a set of boots stepping through the entryway.
Wayne’s home.
“Fuck”, you exclaim in unison.
Sharing a panicked look with Eddie the two of you begin to scramble quietly off the bed, not wanting to risk alerting Wayne to your presence in their trailer.
You liked Wayne. Despite his gruff exterior he’d always been fair to you and your family but the last thing you wanted was to get caught out in his nephew's room. Like this.
"Shit – I can't believe I'm saying this now but...you have to go", Eddie winced as he whispered to you, looking increasingly more regretful with every word he’s forced to let out in reference to your departure.
"No– It's okay. I get it, I really should leave", you hush back in agreement, looking all kinds of frazzled and just as sympathetic given you bare as much of the responsibility for how things escalated the way they did.
You get your shoes back on as quickly and quietly as you can manage, panic rising when Wayne calls out something from the kitchen about dinner.
“Be right there!”, Eddie yells back, swooping down to pick your panties up off the floor, sheepishly handing them to you and you ball the underwear in your fist, suddenly too embarrassed to let him look at them despite everything that’s transpired.
And with that brief brush of his fingers against yours, a moment hangs over the two of you as you stare at one another, a moment that begs for something more to be said about the situation.
But what could you say?
"Thanks for the head?"
"Sorry about the mess. I hope it doesn't leave a stain?"
Nothing feels right no matter what you try to scrounge up and scrape together from the recesses of your mind so reluctantly, you don’t say anything at all, turning towards the window and letting him help you out through it, a faint sense of something sour washing over you when his fingers slip away from yours.
The walk back to your trailer is a short one but it’s made all the more difficult on unsteady, wobbling legs. Casting your gaze at every neighboring window in search of anyone happening to look outside, you try your best to look as inconspicuous as possible despite your ungainly stride and your disheveled state, scrambling up and through your front door.
Back in your room, slumping against your bedroom door, your thighs are wet and sticky, breath coming out in short, hurried puffs, heart thudding a mile a minute and you have just one thought ballooning in your mind.
How the hell were you ever going to look Eddie in the eye after this?
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Tag list: @sadlittlesquish @honey-flustered @cryingglightningg @cadence73
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Im back again bc my brain is rotting , plspls , i ask of you , ghost fucking his cute gf on their kitchen counter, like imagine reader is making dinner , dressed in a cute skirt and one of his sweaters , reader looks hot ass fuck to simon , especially because they currently have a vibrating dildo inside of themselves, simon had put it there because he wanted to have fun and what was more fun than making his sweet angel suffer ? So reader is cooking with shakey hands and legs , softly whimper and sniffling while tears run down her face , frustrated that she cant do anything because she had to be a good girl , that is until reader us about to come , she doubles over the counter and her whole body is trembling, she's abo- , oh wait , Simon pulled the dildo out , leaving his poor angel edged until later after dinner , he makes her cum as much as she deserves and absolutely destroys her cunt , cumming inside of her and then fucking it back inside of her , so she can take it like a good girl while he praises her :)))) (idk why i make ts so detailed)
See here's the thing about Simon goddamn Riley: you cannot tell me this man isn't touch starved and in need of someone to push boundaries and experiment with and this would be fucking perfect for that. Enjoy!~
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To say you and Ghost were an experimental couple in the bedroom would be quite the understatement. If the storage container full of different toys and various bedroom extras wasn't proof enough, you weren't sure what was. So when this man, this touch starved man came up with the idea of making you cook dinner with a vibrator in your cunt, you weren't too surprised.
Dinner was nearly done for the night, but so were you at this point. Your legs were shaking as the vibrating toy did it's job deep in your soaked hole. Tears were starting to stain your cheeks from overstimulation as your end was keeping you teetering on the edge of absolute pleasure.
It was only when your whimpers got louder, hands unsteady to the point that you had to slam your hand on the counter to support your weight that you felt a presence behind you. "Simon...!" You whine, legs clenching together. "Please...! Cl-ohhh...!"
You cry out in disappointment, nearly a sob as you feel Ghost's hand slip beneath your pretty skirt to pull the toy from your stretched hole. "Not until after dinner darlin'," he rumbles, voice dark with arousal yet mocking at the same time.
Your mind is fuzzy, a blur as he helps you plate the food and settle in your seat, watching you with critical cocoa eyes to make sure you finished it all. You'd need all the energy you could take in before he got his hands on you. The moment your plate was clear, he's on you, pulling your seat back and out of the way as he pins you to the table from behind.
You don't miss the man's bulge pressing right against your eager cunt, whimpering as he frees it to rub along your slick entrance. "So pretty, in my sweater," he growls directly in your ear, breath so hot it makes you shiver. "But so naughty with no panties on for me."
"Pleeease Simon...!" You're practically in tears again, desperate to get back to where you wanted to be. You don't need to ask twice, sobbing out in pleasure as you feel Ghost thrust into you roughly. He fucks you harshly, the table rocking violently as he slams his cock into you over and over.
Between grunts and groans the blonde is spewing out praise left and right. Some of it is mixed with degradation, but it's all such sweet music in your ears that brings you close and closer to completion. "So close babygirl," he moans, fingers bruising on your hips. "Come for me sweetheart. Show me how good you feel."
You don't need to be told twice, crying out in pleasure as you milk his cock for all it's worth. Ghost isn't far behind you, a long moan indicating his finish as he spills inside you. You whimper and moan as he fills you, loving how full he's made you feel.
Your military husband cages you in, panting hard against your back as you both come down. You can start to feel the excess mess starting to leak out and down your thighs. A dark chuckle makes you shiver and whine a bit.
"Looks like I'm going to have to ruin you all over again sweetheart."
#bat writes#anon reqs#cod x reader#cod smut#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#ghost x reader#ghost smut
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Our True Nature | Tom Buckley
Pairing -> dom!tom buckley x student!psychic!reader
Summary -> You're different, you always have been; you've know that ever since you were a little kid who made your toys float in the air. Despite your great abilities you've pursued a rather humble life, looking for others like you. Your search comes to an end when you realize that your professor's assistant, Tom Buckley — the one you've been harboring a secret crush on — is a psychic, just like you.
Word count: 4.4k
Warnings: smut (minors dni), dom!Tom and sub!reader, age-gap (not specified, but reader is college-aged), praise kink, slight degradation, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, um superpower play??? telekinesis play??? I don't know what that shit's called, overstimulation, mild breeding kink, tom is wild and says dirty stuff, weird magic lore I made up (you can trust me, I used to write fantasy), mild hamilton reference ig, rough sex but not much emphasis on it
Disclaimer: Red Lights characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.
When you first saw him it was like the world around you stopped. The rain that had been pouring down like a storm the entire day ceased its brutal assault, and in that week of dull weather and gray skies, the sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds and cast a heavenly glow around his body.
He looked like an angel. Dark hair caressed by sunlight, eyes as pale blue as a glacier, and the most handsome face you’d ever seen. It was all right there, across the parking lot of the university, just waiting to be seen. A god amongst humans, a flower in a field of grass.
But then the moment passed. He walked away, without any word or acknowledgment, like he never even saw you at all. It wasn’t until later on did you realize who this man was — Tom Buckley, your new professor’s assistant.
You supposed that was when the attraction started. You tried to kid yourself and say that it was actually halfway through the year when he started offering private study sessions, or when he made it a point to greet you good morning every day, or even when he insisted you call him Tom, but you knew the truth. You had fallen for him the second you saw him but were only too ashamed to admit it.
A god amongst humans.
It was a silly phrase you used to describe him. He wasn’t a god. Not even close to one. He was nothing like you. He couldn’t see visions of the future, or make a door open and close at his whim. He was just a person, a person you had a silly, undeniable crush on. A person you could not stop staring at.
He was currently leading the lesson today, showcasing a video on how a fake psychic used tricks behind the scenes to fool her audience, but you weren’t paying attention at all. Your chin was resting in your hand, and your gaze was upon Tom like he was the only thing that mattered.
You could barely see him in the poor lighting. The best you got was a figure and a shadow on the projection, but that didn’t deter you at all. All you wanted was to observe him, the way he moved, the way he talked, the way his hands would gesture as he explained the concepts students didn’t understand.
He seemed to notice your blatant staring, because after the video ended and he turned the lights back on, his eyes locked with yours, and he did what he always did: made you stay behind after class.
“Is something wrong?” you asked. It was a routine question. When the students got up to leave you would approach his desk, feigning confusion, waiting for him to say, ‘No, nothing, I just wanted to look over the assignment with you.’
You were sure your friends thought you were dumb. Why else would you need extra help all the time? but that was a much better assumption than the idea that you were fucking Mr. Buckley, so you never bothered correcting them.
“No, nothing, I just . . . ” Tom started but then trailed off. From this distance, you could properly admire the light freckles scattered across his pale face and took a moment to save the image in your head. When he continued, your attention snapped back. “I have a couple of questions.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Let’s go to my office.” He looked a little nervous for some reason. The walk to his office was spent trying to deduce why. Maybe something was wrong this time.
You sat down on one of the chairs by his desk. His room was filled with all sorts of odd things, namely technology used to disprove — or prove — paranormal activity. Occasionally, this material would be showcased in class, and he and Matheson would do replicas of former encounters to demonstrate how they worked.
You always paid very close attention to those days, in case you ever need the information in the future. How to Evade Ghost Hunters 101!
“What is it? Have I really done something wrong this time?” you joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
He laughed. A beautiful smile.
“Of course not, you’re my star student.” Your heart warmed at that. “I just wanted to test some things out with you. For the curriculum, Dr. Matheson and I were considering adding it to the course, and we want your opinion.”
You nodded. “That’s fine with me.”
“Good.”
He opened a drawer and pulled out a tarot card pack.
“We want to do a lesson on how pictures and symbolism can be manipulated to fit the victim’s life,” he said, shuffling the deck. “Tarot cards are so vague and general — The Fool, for example, represents new beginnings and adventure. Is that not the foundation of everyone’s life? To explore, to be inexperienced?”
You agreed. “And how are you planning on presenting this to the class? Give out a tarot reading to everyone?”
Tom chuckled. “I just want to try it out with you, to prove it.”
He held out the cards for you to pick, but you stopped him. “Aren’t I supposed to tell you what I want to know?”
There was a brief silence, and if you looked carefully, you could see a light pink tinge glaze over his cheeks, and his breathing hitch ever so slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Don’t worry. Whatever you want to know about me,” you offered, amused at his reaction. “Tell me, what are you looking for?”
“I want to know your secrets,” he admitted. “I want to know what you’re hiding.”
“You’ll be disappointed. There’s nothing interesting about me.”
“We’ll see.”
You picked three cards and placed them down on the table. Each representative of either the past, present, or future, or at least, that’s how you were assuming he was doing the reading.
He turned the first card. It was The Star, reversed.
“Something in the past was bothering you,” he said. “You felt hopeless, like you had no more motivation . . . Am I right in guessing it was the result of something specific?”
“Yes,” you said. Obviously, his reading wasn’t true, how could it be? he wasn’t like you, but he was definitely right about the way people manipulated the symbolism. You doubted he knew the real reason why you had been so depressed.
He flipped over the next card. The Lovers.
He grinned. “I’m sure you can guess what this means. Are you in a relationship?”
You shook your head.
“Then it’s about a potential someone. You’ll find your complimentary, someone you can balance with — it could be platonic, or romantic, but no matter the type of relationship, they’ll be loving, and supportive.”
You looked into his eyes before returning your attention back down to the cards. Oh, how you wished it was him.
He turned the last card.
“The Ten of Cups. Your desires will be fulfilled. You’ll be happy, whatever problems you had in the past will be resolved.”
It was silent for a moment. You expected him to ask you questions of how accurate it was, and how quickly you connected his predictions to events in your life, but he didn’t.
“Do you believe in magic?” he asked bluntly. “The supernatural? You either do or you don’t, I can’t imagine you’d be wasting your time in this class if your opinion was neutral.”
You felt like you’d been put right on the spot. You thought about the right way to answer. “I believe in it, in the sense that I’m open about what we don’t know, and am optimistic about all the possibilities.”
He all but rolled his eyes. “C’mon. That was so wordy. I want to hear the truth.”
He leaned in closer. Your faces were inches apart, and you could feel his minty breath on your face.
“Yes,” you breathed out. “I believe in magic.”
He pulled away, satisfied. “I believe in magic, too.”
You quirked an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? Have you ever seen it in action?”
“Maybe,” he answered vaguely, a grin on his face. “Let me see your palm.”
You wanted to laugh, but you yourself was very eager to comply with his demands, not because you thought the experiments were interesting, but rather you enjoyed spending time with him, and the prospect of him touching you—even though it was only your hand—was thrilling.
Tom caressed the lines on your palms. He was distracted by it.
You weren’t sure what it was about him that made you so drawn. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, it was only something based on lust and looks, but this was more. You didn’t just like him, you found him utterly attractive, in a way that surpassed physicality.
It certainly wasn’t his personality. You thought you two were compatible in mentality, and you got along well, but he was rather boring. He wasn’t fiery nor exciting, nothing that could take you off guard or pique your curiosity.
He was intelligent. He told you he used to study physics, something you just had to respect him for, but you didn’t know that until just recently, and it’s not like his day-to-day actions showcased his genius.
You really didn’t know what it was, and a part of not knowing made it all the more mysterious. But it also made you feel vulnerable. In less than a year, you had become so hopelessly, irrevocably, in love with someone. He could do anything and you wouldn’t blink an eye. He had so much power over you, and he didn’t even know it.
“Can you feel it?” he asked softly, looking up at you.
You pulled your hand away, too flustered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He took your hand again, unrelenting. He gripped it tighter, encasing it in his warmth. It felt so nice.
“Between us,” he clarified, his voice low. He was gazing at you intently.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you like me?” he asked, his tone almost desperate. “I see you do things, impossible things. When you drop a pencil in class it floats back up to your hand, when your coffee gets too cold I see you wrap your hand around the cup and make it bubble. No one else notices, but I do. I see it.”
You froze, or rather, your mind was instantly filled with so many thoughts you couldn’t comprehend them all at once.
You thought you were careful with your abilities because up until now, no one had caught you. Not since you were a teenager who copied off others during a test, not since you got your first car and put it on autopilot so you could sleep during a drive, not even since you were a little girl who was too lazy to tie her own braid at school.
“T-Tom,” you stuttered. “I don’t . . .”
And what was that he said about being like him? Was he implying that he could do these things too? That after all these years of searching, you’d finally found another psychic?
Tom’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” He chuckled nervously. “I don’t know what I was saying. Just forget it.”
He cleared his throat. You still didn’t say anything. It was like someone had pressed a mute button and you couldn’t speak, no matter how badly you wanted to say something.
“You should go,” he suggested. “Thank you, for all the help.”
He stood up, and you did too, mirroring his actions. He lead you over to the exit. “Have a nice day, I look forward to seeing you in class next week.”
You turned around, not wanting to leave yet. “Tom . . .”
He was about to close the door when you stopped it with your foot, budged it open, and leapt into his arms, placing a passionate kiss on his lips.
You didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t know what you were thinking. All that you knew was that you wanted him. Badly. As you pushed your way back inside the room, you feared for a moment that he was going to shove you off, tell you he didn’t mean it like that, but he didn’t. He pulled you inside and lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and sat you on top of his desk, returning the kiss with even more intensity.
“Tom,” you all but moaned. You felt confused and dazed, but with the way Tom was nibbling at your neck, sucking and licking, you could tell he wasn’t in the same boat as you. You relaxed, letting everything go. You could let him take care of this—whatever this was. Let him take care of you.
“Can I take it off?” he asked in between kisses. He tugged at your shirt, fingers hovering above the buttons.
“Mhm,” you nodded. “Please, please, please—”
The buttons unbuttoned themselves. You gasped a little in surprise as your shirt was tossed to the side. That was all the confirmation you needed—Tom Buckley was just like you.
The realization that you had finally found another was lost when he started kneading your breasts through your bra. “Such a needy girl,” he cooed. “Didn’t know she could get like that. Doesn’t want to answer my questions but needs me to please her.”
“Fuck,” you let out, surprised at the dirty talk, but pleased nonetheless. “I just want you.”
“I know you do. Staring at me like a piece of meat in class. That’s all I am to you, hmm? Just a hot teacher to fuck. You tell your little friends about me?”
“No!” You whined when his hands went underneath your bra and pinched your nipple. “Ow! I’ve never told anyone.”
“Ah, I knew you were a good girl.”
You whined again and nuzzled your head in the crook of his shoulder, not wanting him to see how flustered he was making you.
“Pretty girl,” he murmured, unclasping your bra, watching your breasts fall out. “Beautiful girl . . . Can I suck?”
“Yes!” you said impatiently. You found it sexy that he kept asking for permission, but also annoying—he needed to get straight to the point, and stop teasing you.
He latched his lip onto your hard nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud, occasionally nipping on it. While his mouth was occupied, his hands were roaming your body, up to your face and down to as far as he could reach, which while you were sitting down, was all the way to your ankles.
He switched nipples and went to your other breast, making you release a sigh of satisfaction. He eventually let go and gave you another kiss, his tongue slipping inside.
You looked down. He was hard, subtly trying to grind himself between your legs. “Mmm,” he moaned against your lips.
His moan was wonderful. If not for your own pleasure, you wanted to continue this just so you could elicit another sound out of him.
In a bold move, you reached down and squeezed his crotch. He let out a sound, more strangled this time, and pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you both.
He placed his hand over the hand that was palming his cock, encouraging you to keep going, with eyes shut and nose scrunched up. He then moved it to lean on your shoulders.
“Do you like it rough or vanilla?” he asked. “I can do both.”
You tried to hide your grin. “Rough.”
He knew that by saying that you didn’t want it completely that way. The actions, yes, but you still wanted to hear him praise you, to caress you, to whisper sweet things in your ear.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He picked you — handsome and strong — and laid you down on the couch. It wasn’t that large, but at least it was more comfortable than his desk, and you didn’t want to wait any longer by going to his place or yours.
“I want to let you know,” he started seriously, “that this isn’t a, uh, one-night stand. I don’t want that, not from you.”
“I don’t want that either,” you said.
“And I don't do this often. Well, I don't do this at all. With other students, I mean. You’re the first. I don’t want you to think that I’m just, how do you say it? playing you?”
You giggled. He didn’t seem like the playboy type at all. In fact, when most men and women flirted with him, he usually got all uncomfortable and quiet, a fact that boosted your ego, as he never felt that way around you.
“This is serious for me, too. Let’s keep it a secret until this semester is over. And when I’m out of your class we can make it public, okay?”
He nodded, and leaned down to kiss you again, soft and delicate.
“Take off your shirt,” you demanded.
He smiled at your behavior. It took a minute, because he was wearing his suit, but he managed to get it off with your help. You didn’t want to damage his clothing, it was probably on the more expensive side, and he looked so exquisite in it.
You admired his chest. He was lean, but you could still see some faint muscles. After all, he had carried you to the couch. He was perfect. It was just what you had hoped for.
This moment didn’t feel real. How was it that you had gotten so lucky? You were here with the man of your dreams, in his arms, and you were about to make love.
“Get on your knees.”
You did as he asked. You had done this a couple times before, so you weren’t really worried. You could even take cock all the way in, but when you saw his size, you gulped.
He guided your face to it. You licked the tip to the base to the balls, wondering how you were going to make it fit. You reasoned with yourself that if you couldn’t you could just use your hands for the rest.
That was, until he slid his cock inside your mouth and pushed it as far as he could. You controlled your gag reflex and started bobbing your head up and down, the sensation causing your eyes to tear, but not in pain.
He wiped them away. “Are you okay?”
You didn’t say anything, not with your mouth filled. You showed your answer by sucking him, fondling his balls, looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes.
“Ohhh, you take it so well. So well.”
He pushed your head all the way down, keeping it there for a few seconds. You breathed in through your nose, trying to keep yourself under control whilst still making the experience pleasurable for him. He seemed to like it, with the way he was rolling his hips against your mouth, even though there was nothing left to fit inside.
Then, suddenly, you felt something rubbing your clit through your pants. You tried to pull off of Tom, concerned at what it might be, when you realized it was him. He was the one doing it, making you feel this way.
He kept your head in place, a pleased smile on his face. “Like that?”
You moaned. You couldn’t concentrate on him, not when your body was being pleasured so good. How much practice had he had with his abilities? How could he focus when you were going down on him? It was probably the age. He wasn’t that much older than you, but he was older, and surely that came with more practice.
He pulled you off of him after a few minutes of you squirming and gagging, placing you down on the couch. He made sure your head was in a comfortable position before taking off your pants and pulling out his cock. Your pussy was still being rubbed, by whatever invisible force he was using, and it was about to make you come.
“I—I’m gonna—”
“I know,” he shushed, pressing his cock at your entrance.
“Let me make you—”
“No,” he growled. “I’m going to come inside of you. Don’t think, just let your professor handle it.”
You knew he wasn’t technically your professor. He was just the TA, but it was still sexy to hear him say that. It reminded you of your student-teacher relationship, the forbiddeness of it all.
You came just as his cock slid in. He sighed, feeling your pussy flutter and your cream leak out on him. He looked down, taking in the view, before pulling his cock out and slamming it back in, taking you off guard.
His pace was unrelenting. You didn’t know he could be so animalistic. He was panting and groaning in your ear, holding your body in place even though you weren’t going anywhere. He was still rubbing your clit — technically — but you didn't mind. You could take another orgasm. Besides, you weren’t sure if he would stop even if you asked. He looked so blissed out, like he was in another world, the only thing driving him his primal instinct.
“Gonna fill you up so good,” he said, increasing the intensity of his pace. The couch was now shuffling a little, moving forward a little bit each time, but Tom didn’t seem to notice. “You need it so bad. Just want me to take care of you, yeah?”
“Yes,” you cried out, rather pathetically. It was crazy to think how submissive this man could make you. You had never been like this with any of your other partners, but with him, you felt safe, like you trust him with anything.
“I can imagine — you in class, giving me one of those eyes you always do. Fuck — the other students don’t suspect a thing, but both you and I know that I’ll have you over my desk by evening.”
The thought alone made your mind whirl.
“I should fill your panties with my cum, make you walk around in it,” he said. That shouldn’t have aroused you as much as it did. He noticed your reaction. “Oh, you enjoy hearing me say those things? Those depraved, dirty things.”
He hit that spot in you, the one that made you go crazy, and you cried out, clutching his shoulders.
“There it is,” he said, mostly to himself, as he kept ramming that spot over and over again. The added sensations made you go limp in his arms. You could feel that familiar coil in your stomach, the one that told you you were going to orgasm again.
You threw your head back, looking up at the ceiling as you came, but your peace of mind didn’t last long. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look back at him, beating that same spot again, all while continuing the assault on your clit. “Look at me, I want to see your face.”
You looked right into his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, and you could tell an orgasm was coming for him, too.
You felt a little ashamed that in such a short time he had made you come twice, and you hadn’t at all — at least, not yet — but like he said before, he didn’t want you to think, so you didn’t, and let whatever thoughts you had left bouncing around in your head leave.
“You’re wonderful,” he praised, kissing you again. He couldn’t get enough of it. Your teeth clashed briefly, but neither of your cared. He just wanted to taste you. “I can’t wait to be with you.”
With that, he came inside, filling you up to the brim with his hot seed. He kept his cock in, holding your hips in place, until he was satisfied and pulled out.
He laid on top of you on the couch, caressing the side of your cheek as you both recovered and took your breath.
It was silent. Just the two of you, in his office. You had finally found the one. The one you were sure you were going to spend the rest of your life with, all happy and in love like a fairytale.
“I didn’t . . . I didn’t think I’d ever find another,” you finally said.
“I didn’t either. I’m glad it was you. I’m glad it’s you I get to share this with.”
“Hey, what was with the cards? Were you just testing me?”
“Yeah.” He turned to face you. “I wasn’t sure if I was just seeing things. I mean, you get up so early and go to work, sometimes you just imagine a kid opening a door on its own or playing tricks with her assignments. I had to be sure.”
“So, you weren’t intending to tell my future?”
“You can’t actually do that,” he said.
“Yes you can.”
He blinked, surprised.
“I know you said the interpretation is very broad, but it still works.”
“You can actually tell the future?”
“Yeah. It doesn’t have to be with Tarot cards only. But whatever methods, I don’t do it often, I feel like it messes with things. But sometimes I just get these images in my head, and I can’t stop it.”
It hadnt occurred to you that even though you were both psychic, your powers, or at least, the direction you went with them, were different.
“If you weren’t reading my future, what were you doing?”
“I noticed that objects imbued with magic, especially artifacts, radiated energy—a feeling, one that only I could sense. If I gave the same impression on those cards, and you happened to pick them, it would either be a huge coincidence or it would mean you were drawn to them, albeit unknowingly. It was just something to give me more confidence.”
You weren’t aware that was something a person could do. You supposed there were plenty of things you didn’t know. You were looking forward to learning from him, and teaching him as well. You were both in uncharted waters, not knowing where this would lead you both. But it was okay, as long as you had him by your side.
You did worry a little that this intense connection you felt with him was only in an otherworldly sense, that you fell for him because of this magic, but you shook the thought away. That wasn’t true. You wouldn’t let it be true. You loved him and he loved you—and that was it. Nothing more.
“I can do another round,” he said suddenly. “You?”
You grinned and nodded. “Yeah. But this time, I want to ride you.”
He laughed and flipped you both over so that you were on top of him. “Show me how you get off, babygirl.”
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