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#there’s probably a million but there’s only been a handful i’ve been in
e-m-ma-lmfao · 3 days
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Ruin My Reputation
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pairing : cooper howard (the ghoul) x (fem) reader
summary : he’s soft for you
warnings : blood, drug use kinda, talk of shooting
a/n : just something short and sweet so the fallout brainrot subsides.
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“You know damn well I hate when you show up like this.” You let your medical supplies clatter onto the table where the ghoul sits, waiting like a hurt dog. Eyes awfully resemblant of the animal.
It’s likely that the only reason he’s here, looking this run down, is cause he’s got no vials left. If you knew better, you’d hide yours. Or better yet, get rid of them all together.
“Now c’mon darlin’,” he pauses to sputter out a cough and take a deep breath, “I thought you loved seeing me.” Shakily, he grabs his hat off his head and places it on the table.
“I love you a whole lot more when I don’t have to worry about you showing up at my doorstep on the brink of death you old..” Your words trail off and whatever insult you were ready to throw at him is taken away by the stream of air you let slip past your lips.
“I told you to quit your worryin’, I ain’t gonna die on ‘ya.”
“Oh yeah? And what do you suppose it is you’re doing right now?”
“Well if you’d quit your yappin’ and get to fixin’ I’d be doing a whole lot better, wouldn’t I?” He offers an unwelcome smile, which disappears when he winces in his pain. You hand him a vial of his favorite yellow liquid before you get to unbuttoning his shirt. After downing the vial he opens his mouth again but you're quick to cast your eyes his way.
“Looks like I didn’t need your medical attention after all, huh? ‘S a damn shame.”
“Mhm, waste of my time. Well then, I’ll cut right to it, thought I told ‘ya not to come around anymore after the last time.” Your voice trails off as you disappear to the back room to grab him a shirt that isn’t littered with holes and dirt and a shit ton of blood. Most of which probably isn't even his. And he follows behind, limping, like he’s in a trance and can’t help himself.
You hear a grunt from the other room as you rummage through a small storage box of his discarded things. Anything he left over the months he had been making himself a frequent quest in your home was in this box. You wanted to burn it. All of it. Use those little bottles of yellow liquid as a fire starter and make him watch while you did it. But anytime you tried, you couldn’t actually bring yourself to part with the tiny symbols of his presence.
“We both know you didn’t mean that,” he appears in the doorway behind you, blocking your exit, “besides I always come to my girl for help when things get rough. She's got all the good chems.”
You throw the shirt into his arms, a bit harder than intended, but he catches it with the reflexes of a man who kills for a living. Because, well, he does. You’re not sure why but every comment is making you angrier about him being there. A chem stash, huh? That’s all he thought of you?
“I wish you wouldn’t. I ain’t got time to sit around and tend to you, wait for you to get all better and leave again.”
The shirt now hangs on his body loosely, buttons open, “Now what’s got you so sour tonight. Usually you're a lot kinder to little ol’ me.” He leans against the doorframe
“Maybe the fact that I’ve got a half dead cowboy making himself comfy in my home every two weeks doesn’t sit well with me. You ever think about that before you kick your dirty boots off on my carpet?” You pause to stare at him with a raised eyebrow, “Oh, which reminds me, you owe me a new carpet.”
“What’re you talking about, woman?”
“You got blood on my carpet.”
“It was already covered in blood and dirt anyway!”
“Well, you got more on it. I liked how it was. So now you owe me a new one.”
“Are you hearing yourself? Where would you like me to go for said carpet? Anything I find you is gonna look exactly the same as the one already sitting on your goddamn floor!” He moves in slowly, cautiously like he’s practiced the art a million times. “Now I know you’re not worried about that piece of fabric out there. What is the problem?”
He swoops in close, close enough to wrap his arms around your waist with his hands clasped together at the dip in your back. You don’t push him away, though you want to. Although, all you think about is how your gun is sitting merely 5 inches away on the end table beside you. You could shoot him, if you wanted. But you probably won't.
Cooper’s eyes find your avoidant ones, the rough pads of his fingers grabbing at your chin to make you look at him. He’d never raise his full hand to you, smart man. God knows you’d think he was moving in to slap you, and his hand would be gone before he could yell ‘yeehaw’.
“You know damn well that I worry about you Coop.” Your arm finds his forearm, tugging his hand away from your face, “I just want you to stay for once, so I won't have to worry about you dying in the middle of the wasteland somewhere.” His hands find the dip in your back again, running along your skin until they rest on your hips.
“Hey now, you know I can’t stay, I got business to take care of out there.”
“Yeah, it’s always business. Always. Well you know what, so do I. So go on and get ‘fore I shoot yer sorry ass.” You step away from him, pushing him out of your way but his hands are quick to find your hips again and pull you back to him. Works like magnets.
“Now you're just being dramatic.. Alright alright, if you ask me nicely I’ll stay for a little longer than usual.”
You stare at him, eyebrows flexed in annoyance but the rest of your face has seemingly cooled down. You don’t need to say anything, he’s already agreed. He looks down at you with a soft smirk, thumbs rubbing into your hip bones.
“You are the easiest woman to please in the whole wasteland.” You feel your eyebrows relax as one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek in his rough palm. His lips part, gazing at you with deep adoration.
“Think you’re making me go soft darlin’, gonna ruin my damn reputation.”
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softestepilogue · 8 months
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full offense but fandoms are unbearable because y’all are unlikable. y’all are so weird and i will die on that hill.
this is like the third time i’ve been in a fandom where a white male SIDE character is heavily favored by the fandom and they start jumping through hoops, and grabbing reasons out their asses, to prove why the main poc character is a terrible person. they will also ignore any wrongdoing of the side white male character.
it’s so fucking weird and exhausting.
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bookyeom · 4 months
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pairing: s.coups x reader word count: 4.8k warnings: a couple of swears i think, kissing, people being bad friends and treating reader badly :(, a tiny bit of poor self-esteem on reader's end but not much, seungcheol gets a lil mad at one point but it's nothing crazy
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Author's Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it's not necessary.
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pov by ariana grande
i wanna love me the way that you love me for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too i'd love to see me from your point of view cause nobody ever loved me like you do
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You feel like you’ve been subject to an intervention.
You’d come over to pick up a sweater you’d left at Jeonghan’s, and now you’re sitting on his couch while both him and Soonyoung stare at you, arms crossed. You have the distinct feeling that you’re being judged. 
“You’re here early,” Jeonghan finally says, and you immediately don’t like the tone of his voice. 
“Yeah,” you say, slowly. “Junseok couldn’t make it last minute, so I just came straight here.” You don’t miss the look that passes between Jeonghan and Soonyoung, and you inwardly groan in preparation when you realize what’s about to come.
”Wow, he canceled?” Soonyoung says, sarcastic as ever.
“We’re so surprised,” Jeonghan follows, and you roll your eyes. 
“Things happen,” you try, but your friends don’t even flinch. 
“Yeah, they always seem to happen with him in particular, especially when you guys have plans. Poor guy.” 
“Come on. Stop.”
Jeonghan smacks you on the arm, and you yelp. “He’s such a dick, Y/N. Break up with him.”
“We’re not dating! I’ve told you a million times that we’re just friends.”
“Does the fact that you’re just friends justify how he treats you?” Soonyoung asks, and that hits you, hard. Your shoulders slump, and Soonyoung sits next to you on the couch.
“He’s just forgetful,” you murmur, but even as you say the words, you don’t really believe them yourself. 
“Hoshi is the most scatterbrained person I’ve ever met,” Jeonghan points out, “and even he remembers plans.”
The man in question appears offended for a brief moment, before quickly brightening up at the end of Jeonghan’s statement. “Yeah,” he nods solemnly in agreement. “I sometimes forget my sentences half way through. If I can remember making plans with my friends, so can he.”
You remain silent. You know they’re right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“You know who else never cancels on you, at least not without a solid explanation?”
You know where this is going, but you’re definitely going to pretend that you don’t. “Joshua? Seokmin? Love those guys. Truly the most loyal companions and —“
“Seungcheol not only sticks to plans, he also makes them with you first,” Jeonghan continues on, interrupting you, not even batting an eye as he ignores your pouting. 
“And he’d probably rather poke his own eye out than cancel on you,” Hoshi supplies.
“He’s my friend,” you protest weakly. “Do you mean you guys wouldn’t gauge an eye out on my behalf?”
“No,” the two men opposite you answer at the same time, and you sink back into your seat with a huff. 
“DK would,” you mumble.
“Yeah, but — bless his stupid ass — he’d do that for any of us,” Hoshi points out. “Seungcheol, on the other hand, thought it was funny to lock me out of the bathroom when I was hungover and needed to throw up last Saturday morning.” 
“Okay, but Cheol told me that you spilled a bottle of vodka all over his new laptop while you were drunk and tried to cover it up,” you counter. Hoshi opens his mouth to retort, but Jeonghan cuts him off. 
“Last week, he canceled lunch with Mingyu and I just because he didn’t want to get out of bed.”
“He had an exam the night before!” you protest, quickly jumping to Seungcheol’s defense in his absence. “For a really hard class, too! He was telling me about it when he came over to study.” The two men stare back at you pointedly, and you feel your cheeks flush. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jeonghan simply smiles, and it unsettles you. “Just that I’ve known Seungcheol for three years and I’ve never, not even once, seen him willingly study with someone else. He always talks about needing to focus alone.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck, and try valiantly to hide it with your turtleneck sweater. “Maybe you guys are just annoying.”
“Or maybe he’s in love with you,” Soonyoung pipes up, a wide grin on his face, and you let out a whine. 
“Stop,” you plead as the two of them high-five. 
“You and Seungcheol are so annoying. If we’re talking about good ‘friends’,” Jeonghan puts quotation marks in the air around the word as he says it, “he should be at the top of your list. That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.”
”Are you saying you don't care about me?”
You’re trying to change the subject, and Jeonghan knows it. He glares at you. “We care about you enough to try and knock some sense into you, don’t we?”
“I’m leaving,” you announce, pushing yourself off the sofa, sweater in hand. 
“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out as you pass through the threshold. “Can you take this, too?” He appears a second later as you’re tying your shoes, holding out a pair of socks. You raise an eyebrow in question. “They’re Cheol’s,” he explains. “I can almost guarantee you’re going to see him before I do.”
“How do you know that, Jeonghan?” 
“When are you guys hanging out next?”
You squint at your friend for a moment, before you begrudgingly take the socks from his hand. “Tomorrow morning,” you murmur. You pointedly ignore Jeonghan’s laughter as you all but slam the door behind you. 
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“How was yesterday?”
“Hm?” You hum through a mouthful of food, glancing back up at Seungcheol. 
You’re sitting across from him at your favourite cafe. It had been silent since your food arrived and you’d both shut up to shovel food into your mouths, so you’re surprised when he speaks up. You also have no idea what he’s referring to.
“You hung out with Junseok last night, right?” Seungcheol asks, and you wince.
“Oh,” you manage. “No, we didn’t end up getting together.”
Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate, clicking his tongue as he brings his coffee mug up to his lips. “Asshole.”
“Cheol.”
“What? He’s an asshole.” He sets his coffee down again, elbows on the table as he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Did he cancel, or did you?”
You look back down at your food. “He did.”
Seungcheol simply nods, crossing his arms as he leans against the back of the booth. You’re reminded again of just how big his arms have gotten lately, and you try to shake the thoughts before your gaze lingers just a bit too long. “Of course he did.”
“He’s trying,” you mumble miserably, knowing it sounds lame, even to yourself. “He’s getting better at following through.”
The man in front of you raises his eyebrows. “Is he?”
“You’re being a dick.”
“I’m just telling the truth.” Seungcheol shrugs. “Why do you even like him?”
“I don’t like him like that anymore,” you mutter. “I haven't for a while. It was a dumb crush, Cheol, you know that. We’re friends now.”
Seungcheol scoffs. “Okay, well, I’m your friend too. And as your friend, I’m telling you – he’s an asshole.”
This time, you don’t offer a rebuttal. You fall silent, pushing the eggs around on your plate. You can feel Seungcheol watching you, and you can practically hear his defenses lowering the longer you stay quiet. Usually, you can keep up with his banter and sass, but you know he can tell that you’re actually upset now. You’re tired of arguing. Deep down, you know he’s right, and you don’t have it in you to meet his gaze.
“Somebody who cares about you wouldn’t do stuff like that, friend or otherwise,” he finally speaks again, his voice softer now. “I know it sucks… but sometimes, it really is that simple.”
“Yeah,” is all you say. 
“Hey.”
You make yourself look at him again, offering him as much of a smile as you can. 
He smiles back, soft. “People care about you, okay?” 
You nod. The longer he looks at you, the more you start to feel that electric current, that low buzzing that seems to take over your entire body whenever Seungcheol is close. Jeonghan’s words linger in the back of your mind as he finally looks away, breaking the tension between the two of you.
That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.
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You hate how downright… silly you feel.
”He promised he’d make it this time,” you sniffle, and Seokmin squeezes you tighter into his side. “He even booked the tickets. Why would you book the tickets and then cancel on the day of?”
“Once a liar, always a liar,” Jeonghan calls out from his kitchen. 
“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” Seungcheol agrees. He’s leaning against the doorframe that separates the kitchen from the living room, and you don’t know why it hurts a little that he hasn’t tried to comfort you at all since you walked in. His comment only serves to upset you more, and you glare at him.
“Are you happy?”
Seungcheol blinks in surprise, turning back to you from where he was watching Jeonghan in the kitchen. “What?”
”Are you happy that you’re right? Do you feel good about it, Cheol?” You can feel Seokmin pat your shoulder comfortingly, but it doesn’t help — you’re annoyed now.
”What are you even talking about, Y/N?”
“You’re right — he’s an asshole. You’re right. You love being right, don’t you?”
The silence is almost palpable. Jeonghan has stopped moving in the kitchen, Seokmin is frozen next to you, and you can cut the tension in the room with a knife. Seokmin slowly moves to stand up, heading into the kitchen with Jeonghan, leaving the two of you alone.
“It’s not about being right,” Seungcheol finally says, and you avoid his gaze when he joins you on the couch. “All I care about is the fact that he should treat you better.”
Seungcheol’s tone leaves no room for argument, and you can feel your shoulders sag. You know that he’s right — and you hate it. 
“I know,” you admit, and all of your misplaced anger drains from you in seconds. “I know he should,” you repeat, feeling your remaining defenses start to crumble. “So why won’t he?” 
You say the last words so quietly that you’re surprised anyone hears you, but you know that at least Seungcheol has when his shoulders fall. You hear him inhale a breath, but you speak again before he gets a chance to say anything.
“I just don’t understand why I’m not worth the effort.” You can hear your voice crack, followed by silence, and then — you break. The tears are falling before you can stop them. You feel the couch shift as Seungcheol turns. Whatever hesitation he’d had about comforting you before seems to ease up as his hand finds your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. You’re grateful, but you still can’t look at him.
“What about the people who do treat you well?” His tone is softer now, but you can tell he’s still upset by the tone of his voice. You don’t have a chance to answer before he speaks again. “I could tell you a million times how great I think you are, I could make a thousand plans to hang out, I could go on and on about how much I like being around you… but nothing will change until you figure out a way to believe me. I—“ He clears his throat. “We— care about you so much. All of us. We should be the people that matter.”
“But what did I do wrong? With him?”
Seungcheol’s hand on your thigh is gone in a flash. He stands up, and you miss his warmth immediately. “I don’t know what else to say,” he says, voice low. He’s angry, you can tell, but he would never admit to it. 
You want to apologize, desperate to bring him back to you, but you’re frozen. 
“I’m going to head out.” He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t look back at you. Jeonghan and Seokmin appear from the kitchen, but no one says anything except for a ‘drive safe’, and then he’s gone.
It’s silent for a moment, and then you say, “I fucked up.”
To your surprise, Jeonghan doesn’t scold or tease you. He doesn’t even agree. Seokmin disappears back into the kitchen to tend to the food Jeonghan was cooking, but Jeonghan himself joins you on the couch with a sigh.
“Listen,” Jeonghan starts. “You and I are similar — we always tend to focus on the people that don’t care. We want to be loved, so when someone doesn’t put in as much effort as us, we feel like we have to figure out why. We want to know what we did wrong, even though we didn’t do anything wrong at all. We forget that there are tons of people that love us a lot already. I love you, for example.” Jeonghan pinches your thigh affectionately, before he juts his thumb in the direction of your front door. ”Or what about that guy? The one who just left my apartment, pissed, because you let someone make you question your worth? He cares about you without thinking twice. For him, it’s effortless. You’re worth it, and you’ve never had to prove that to us. You just are, and always have been.”
You’re officially crying now. You know you’ve really upset Seungcheol, and you know your friends are all right. You know it, you know they love you and you love them, but why don’t you believe that you deserve it?
“I should go home,” you say softly, but your hand squeezes Jeonghan’s in acknowledgement, in a quiet thanks.
“I won’t say anything else except for this,” Jeonghan says gently. “I know you think Cheol is worth it, too. Being with someone doesn’t always have to feel like effort.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s effortless.”
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You spend the next week thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until the ball drops and you finally just do it. You block Junseok on every social media, you delete his number, and you’re proud of yourself for it. You don’t message your friends back very much throughout the week. Seungcheol in particular has been radio silent, but you suppose you deserve that. You don’t reach out first, instead taking the time to process everything that’s happened, to process everything you’re feeling — and not just about Junseok. 
You know that Seungcheol has always meant a little bit more to you than anyone else. Now, you’re wondering why you’ve never done anything about it — and you’re also wondering just how long you’ve been blind to the fact that Seungcheol most likely, almost definitely, likes you back. 
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Y/N [5:36pm]: early Galentines dinner at my place this Sunday at 7?
You receive an almost immediate thumbs up from Seokmin and Soonyoung.
Hannie [5:43pm]: yaaaaas
Wonu [5:44pm]: might be a bit late but I’ll be there 
Kwanie [5:52pm]: NOOOOO I’m busy :(
Kwanie [5:52pm]: galentines?? WITHOUT ME????? UNBELIEVABLE
You smile at that, texting Seungkwan a private apology in a separate chat. Your heart jumps in your chest when you receive another notification, and you’re filled with relief so quick and intense that it feels like you’ve been doused in water.
Cheollie [5:58pm]: I’ll be there. Cheollie [5:58pm]: need help setting up?
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You hug Seungcheol the second he walks through your door. He reciprocates, and you feel relieved and anxious and warm and fuzzy all at once.
Now, a half hour has passed, and neither of you have mentioned what happened the week before. He tells you about his week at work, and you hate the small talk but you know it’s all just the road back into the familiar ease of your friendship — so you participate. It’s only when you’ve finished getting ready for dinner, Valentine’s Day decorations and lights all strung up and ready to go, that he speaks up again. You’re preparing tea for the two of you when he catches you entirely off guard. 
“Will Junseok be joining us tonight?”
You can feel your shoulders tense up. You can tell that it pains him to say it, but you also know he’s the brave one for even bringing it up. You take a deep breath. 
“He’s not coming tonight, or any other night, actually.”
Seungcheol seems surprised as he hands you a mug from the cupboard before grabbing one for himself. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
You shrug. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really.”
Seungcheol’s eyes follow you as you move across the kitchen to the kettle, pausing before speaking again. “I can tell.”
You turn back to him as you click the kettle on to boil, an eyebrow raised in his direction. “Was that sarcastic?”
The man smiles as he shakes his head. “No, I mean it. You seem happier than...” He trails off, but you both know what he’s thinking: than when I saw you last.
“I am,” you reply honestly, and it’s silent again for a moment before you both start to speak at the same time.
“Listen, I–”
“Hey, Cheol–”
You can feel warmth start to spread through you when he begins to laugh at your clumsiness — it had only been a week, but you’d missed that. You’d missed him. 
“You first,” you offer, and he nods.
“I’m sorry that I was frustrated when I left the other day,” he says, and you tilt your head in surprise at his apology. He shrugs before continuing, “I shouldn’t have left like that… but in my defense, I didn’t know you’d disappear for a week.” He’s joking, and you smile a bit at that.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Cheol.” He joins you at the counter and you begin to pour hot water into both mugs, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you can feel him next to you. It suddenly all feels so intimate, the way you’re making tea for him the way he likes it without him saying a word, the way he watches you move around in your kitchen as if he does it every day. 
You turn to hand him his tea and when your eyes meet his, you feel a flush begin to creep up your neck to find him already looking back.
“I mean it,” you say softly, and he hums in response, eyebrows raising as he takes a sip and waits for you to continue. “I really am sorry for not being around the last couple of weeks.” You hop up onto the counter, legs dangling off of it as you wait for your tea to cool. 
Seungcheol sets his mug down on the counter and sends you a soft smile, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “It’s okay. I get it.”
You nod, looking down, and pick at a thread on your jeans. “Thanks,” you say quietly, but he knows you’re not finished speaking. His eyes don’t leave your face, and his fingers still grip onto the handle of his mug as he waits, ever patient, for you to gather your thoughts. “I’m still sorry, though. I was just so overwhelmed and didn’t want to deal with it, so I let everything build up to a breaking point.”
“I promise it’s okay,” Seungcheol repeats. He’s being genuine — you can hear it in his voice. Your eyes meet his again, and you almost wish they hadn’t because you have more to say, and you might lose all of the courage left in you if he keeps looking at you like that. 
“Just… Just let me explain,” you request quietly, and he nods again. “I… I guess I just needed a bit of time to myself. To figure out what’s important to me.” You pause, choosing your next words carefully. “To figure out who is important to me.” 
You can feel your cheeks flush as you finish. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you this whole time, and you think your heart is in your throat now as he continues to gaze at you.
“Yeah?” 
Does he understand what you’re implying? Your eyes move to land on the dark strand of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. You suddenly feel a desperate need to reach out, to brush his hair back, to touch it. To touch him. Would he let you? Does he want that, too?
“Yeah,” you finally repeat, your quiet voice matching his as you meet his gaze again.
He moves then, slowly, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off, shifting closer and reaching across your legs to set his mug in the sink. Your breath catches in your throat as he straightens back up in front of you, his now-empty hand falling to the counter beside your thigh. He’s standing right in front of you, caging you in between his arms, and you can’t look away.
“And what’s the verdict?” Comes his question, dark eyes searching yours.
“That I should start to focus more on the people that show me they care. Because those are the ones that I care about the most, too.” 
The tension in the air is palpable. 
Then his fingers gently, tentatively, brush against yours where they rest on the counter. He doesn’t do anything more, testing the waters, and it takes everything in you not to shiver. His gaze falls to your mouth, and you hold your breath — then he looks down and away from you, his eyes squeezing shut, and the moment is lost.
“Cheol?” You say carefully, desperate to get him to look at you again. He hums in response, but he doesn’t look up. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you feel like if you don’t say what you want to say right now, you never will. “Thank you.”
That seems to get his attention as he lifts his head to meet your gaze once more. You can tell he’s surprised as he murmurs, “For what?”
“For being here.” You’re not sure if that’s what you meant to say, or how you meant to say it, because it sounds far too simple for how you feel about the man in front of you. And then he smiles.
“Of course,” comes his reply. You watch as his smile grows and he says, “I was told there would be free beer.”
You blink at him for a moment, processing — and then you let out a single, surprised laugh. You feel some sense of relief wash over you as the tension between you breaks a little, as everything around you seems to soften. You feel a little bit like you’re glowing from the inside out, warm and fuzzy like the pink heart-shaped lights strung up around your apartment, and you wonder if he feels it, too. You’re starting to think that maybe he does.
“Cheol,” you say, and you offhandedly wonder why you’re saying his name so much. He grows serious again, but the lighter air between the pair of you gives you just enough confidence to continue. “I don’t just mean today,” you elaborate, your voice soft. You feel vulnerable now, even more than before, your eyes falling to your lap. “You’re always there when I need you, and even sometimes when I think that I don’t.” Seungcheol laughs quietly at that. “It means a lot to me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You mean a lot to me.” 
When you look up, you find him gazing back, and you abruptly realize that he’s moved even closer. The fingers that were playing with yours move up to your waist, and your entire body reacts to the warmth of his palm. 
“Is this okay?” He murmurs, a quiet question that threatens to overwhelm you. He’s making sure that you want this just as much as he does. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“More than okay,” you affirm. His mouth lifts at the sides, dimples just peeking through. Again, you think that there’s something more that you wanted to say, but your breath is caught in your throat and he’s just so… beautiful.
“I…” He trails off, and you watch as his eyebrows furrow. You’re desperate to be even closer as you wait, closing the final space between you to press your forehead to his. “It was so hard not talking to you this week,” is what finally he says, and though he hasn’t said much, you think you understand. 
I missed you. That’s what he’s trying to say.
You desperately want to communicate to him that you won’t leave him like that again, that you don’t plan on going anywhere, that the last seven days away from him sucked just as much for you. In a bold move, you ease your legs apart, leaving room for him to stand between them. Your calf moves to hook behind his knee, tapping against him in a silent request for him to come even closer. You hope he understands — that you want him close like this, that you missed him more than you think he realizes.
He seems to understand you just fine.
He easily fills the space you made for him, his chest nearly flush against yours now. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze, and you inhale a shaky breath as he brushes his nose against yours. Your hands have found his shoulders, grasping onto the material of his sweater, and his eyes fall shut.
The same, pesky strand of hair is falling into his eyes again, and you’re pretty certain that given your current position, you’re allowed to do something about it now. So you do, lifting a hand to gently brush it back and over his forehead, gaze following the movement. His eyes open at the touch, and a whisper of your name brings you back to him. 
The moment you lock eyes again, he’s leaning forward to capture your mouth with his. 
Your hand falls from his forehead to his bicep as you gasp into the kiss, as you try and process. When you do, when you realize what’s finally happening, you can’t get enough. You’re pulling him in so close that you feel a bit feral, your fingers pressing into his arms, his back, one hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You can tell he’s not faring much better than you as he chases your lips relentlessly, as he pulls you into him so close that you can’t feel anything but him. 
When you finally need to breathe, your hands find his face. You pull back, eyes taking him in as he lets out a breath, like he can’t believe what’s just happened, either. He looks at you, and you look back, and you have no idea what to say or do — until suddenly, you’re beaming. You can’t help it as you pull him back in for one long, slow kiss, grin wide against his mouth, your hand moving again to the back of his neck. He’s smiling, too — your favourite smile of his, the one that’s completely, entirely genuine — and when he pulls away only to bury his face in your neck this time, you can feel the smile against your skin.
“Fuck, I’m in love with you.”
It’s quiet, whispered against your skin, but you hear it. Your fingers pause their trail up and down his back. You move his face back up to look at him, your eyes searching his, desperate to know if you heard him right. “Cheol?”
He kisses you again, once, twice, so slow and soft that it makes your head spin. “I love you,” he says, breathless against your lips. He waits for you as you let it sink in, his hands firm on your waist, eyes boring into yours so you know that he means it. 
You believe him.
“I love you too,” you whisper, foreheads moving to rest against each other once more. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s okay.”
He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating. You’re certain that yours isn’t doing much better.
“I do have a question though,” he says after a few moments pass, and you hum, urging him to go on. “You said you were going to spend more time with the people that care about you, right?” 
You move back to look at him and tilt your head in question. “Yes?”
“I’m guessing that includes Jeonghan and Hoshi and the boys,” Seungcheol muses, and you nod, your eyebrows raising. Then he pouts, and you sputter out a laugh.
“What’s that face for? They’re your friends, too!”
Seungcheol huffs. “Yes, but if you meant that you’re going to kiss them like that, too, then –”
You clap a hand over his mouth. “Ew!”
The man in front of you has a shit-eating grin on his face now, and you remove your hand. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“Trust me,” you shudder, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about kissing.”
“You’ve thought about it, huh?”
You look up at him, smacking his chest. “Shut up!”
“Don’t worry, I’ve thought about it too.” When he moves to kiss you again, you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Speaking of our friends,” you tease, “they’re literally going to be here any second. You have permission to kiss me as much as you want to later, okay?”
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A/N: here it is! The first of our Thirteen Valentines. I have to be honest, I got a little carried away with this one... I'll put out a full disclaimer that not all of the fics will be this long! Seungcheol has a solid grip on me and I couldn't do anything about it, you guys.
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda
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dirtyvulture · 1 month
Text
Envy and Venom
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4190
AN: Randomly came up with this idea, it's a little different than my other stuff, but give it a read. :)
DAY 1
“You couldn’t have picked a better person for the job,” you tease, gripping tightly onto your father’s hand as the sea of flashing lights fifteen feet away practically blinds you. The reporters call out for your attention but you ignore them, pausing in the awkward, hand-holding pose with your father so the photo can be plastered across the front page of news outlets around the world. 
“I trust you. Don’t ruin what I’ve started,” your father says, grabbing onto your shoulder and pulling you into a tight embrace. “And please try to keep your…escapades…a little more under wraps, okay?” he whispers into your ear. 
“I’ll try, Dad,” you say, but it isn’t really your fault that the public was so interested in what goes on in your bedroom. Then again, you hadn’t exactly been trying to be subtle when you were fucking your secretary against the penthouse window of your apartment, but people should try to mind their own business more. 
Your father pushes you back and the two of you turn in unison to wave at the crowd once more. 
“Congratulations!” you hear them echoing. “To Envy Industries’ new CEO, Y/N!”
***********************************************************************
Naturally, to celebrate your latest achievement, you host the party of the century, inviting other world-renowned millionaires, fellow tech company gurus, actors, singers, celebrities, and pretty much anyone else who fit society’s thinly-veiled description of “famous.” You initially show up with two models you had already spent the afternoon with, but you weren’t interested in stringing them along and were excited to find some new target to chase after. 
The first hour alone is spent wading through faces you recognize from online but have no personal connection with, and you have to pretend that you’re grateful when they take enough interest and ask about the future of your company. 
“We’ll probably stick to the production of GPUs for a while,” you say, yelling to be heard over the music and rumble of people. “We just signed a huge contract with Tesla, so we’ll be supplying all the hardware they need for their next products. They have a big need for AI software, and we’re one of the few companies that can build exactly what they need.”
“Wow, that’s very impressive.” The short-haired blonde woman suddenly throws herself at you, her nails digging into your bicep so hard you can feel the prick through your burgundy silk jacket.
“Thank you.” You’re not sure you’ve ever seen this woman before in your life and you wonder if she even understood half of what you were saying or she was just trying to get into your pants.
“I’m Carol, by the way. Do you want to get a drink?”
“I would never say no to a drink.” You let Carol lead you to the bar (that you are footing the bill for) and she orders for you, picking an old-fashioned cocktail for you. A decent choice, but if she had read your interview in The Chief Executive Magazine, she would have known that your favorite drink was actually a vodka martini. You join her at an empty table.
“So, what do you do for a living?” you ask out of politeness, taking a sip and letting the whiskey burn your throat.  
“I’m an influencer,” Carol says. “I have one-point-seven million followers on Tik Tok right now. I mostly post fitness routines or travel vlogs. And I also stream video games on Twitch.”
“Ah.” Now it’s your turn to act like you’re impressed when you have no idea what she’s talking about. 
Carol drones on about her next project, which involves a collaboration with another influencer you’ve never heard of. Your eyes scan the people walking by, looking for a new object of infatuation. It doesn’t take long until you make eye contact with a beautiful, redheaded woman, her voluptuous body hugged by an emerald green dress. Immediately, your heart rate spikes as you scan her up and down, not predatorily, but admiringly. The neckline of her dress plunges down to her belly button, a tasteful hint of her cleavage showing through, highlighted by a long  silver necklace with a thin gold bar tassel. 
You perk up, smoothing your hair back and puffing out your chest like a proud pigeon when she starts walking over.
“Congratulations,” the redhead says. “Your family must be very proud of you.”
“My dad didn’t want to give it to me,” you admit, completely oblivious to Carol’s pout as you instantly give your attention to this new woman. “But I convinced him the company would be in good hands.”
“I bet.”
“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, desperate to keep around for the conversation (and perhaps more).
“I should be the one treating you,” the redhead says. She takes the cocktail out of your hands and brings it to her lips. “Hmm. I didn’t think this was your taste,” she notes. “How does a vodka martini sound?”
You know instantly this is the woman you’re taking home with you tonight. “That sounds delightful.”
***********************************************************************
You ditch Carol without a second thought and follow the redhead back to the bar, where she picks up two vodka martinis. She brings you to a private booth, sitting so close to you that your knees are touching hers. You can almost feel her body heat through the fabric of your clothes. 
“To Envy Industries’ long and prosperous future,” she says, raising her drink in a toast.
“Cheers.” You clink your glass to hers and drink half of it in one long sip, smiling in satisfaction. “I didn’t catch your name,” you say.
“Natasha.” It sparks a familiar memory, a name you’ve heard before. But she’s so intoxicating that you give it no second thought. Natasha is one of the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen in your life and you can’t believe she’s sitting here talking to you and you alone.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, formally offering her your hand. She shakes it, and you gently bring her hand up to your lips to kiss her knuckles.
“Likewise,” she says, crossing one perfectly toned leg over the other, her foot nudging the back of your calf. “Not to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention a contract with Tesla. Say what you want about that company, but you can’t deny the evidence that they’re one of the highest valued companies in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if Envy Industries is soon up there with them.”
“Exactly.” Your interest in this woman skyrockets, because you know she isn’t bullshitting you. She isn’t like Carol. She knows what she’s talking about. 
“We’ve been trying to strike deals with the automotive industry for years,” Natasha goes on, “But you’ve beat us to it. And now that you’ve partnered up with Tesla, you’re basically unstoppable.”
“Not quite,” you correct, now unable to stop yourself from unraveling the schemes of your company’s next five years. “Our research on artificial intelligence is just getting started. We just applied for ten new patents within computing technologies and we’re on track to absolutely dominate the market for discrete graphics processing units by the end of the year.” 
Natasha grins at your enthusiasm and you feel yourself blush in embarrassment. You know the media often labeled you as stupid, reckless, irresponsible, unfit to lead, and constantly bashed your sexual appetite, but you were all those things and a technology genius. Your father had built this company from the ground up, but you had been there alongside him the past six years. While everyone classified your promotion to CEO as nepotism, you felt you had rightfully earned it. 
“I don’t know how you do it,” she comments.
“Well, it definitely wouldn’t be wise for the new CEO to be giving away all the secrets, now would it?” you chuckle, even though you’ve definitely already said more than you should’ve. 
“Your success is no trade secret.” Natasha turns her whole body to face you. The attention she’s giving you is almost more than you can bear. Your heart pounds against your chest. No woman has ever made you this excited before. “But if you want, maybe we can go somewhere a little more private, where you can share whatever else you’d like.”
“Hmm.” It was rare for another woman to be so bold with you. But you’ve never lusted after another woman like Natasha before. Arousal heats up in your stomach as Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on your thigh and squeezing it teasingly. Her breath fans over your face and you can smell the vodka and her cherry lipstick. You lean forward to meet her, moving like you’re in a dream, fireworks sparking in the back of your head the moment your lips touch. 
Suddenly, you’re overcome with the carnal desire to drag this woman up to your penthouse and have her squirming underneath you, crying out your name as she comes undone.
“Um, would you like to…” You can hardly think straight. “My room…apartment…is upstairs…if you want to…”
“Show me the way,” Natasha says, standing up and offering you her hand.
***********************************************************************
Your brain is swirling in a fog as you follow Natasha to the elevator. You don’t even register any of the people you pass, fully aware of the fact that someone will report this headline to the National Enquirer, at the very least. But all the worries of the future disappear the moment the elevator doors close and Natasha throws herself at you, her legs hooking around your narrow waist and her heels digging into the small of your back. Your hands support her supple bottom, squeezing in appreciation as her lips crash against yours in a desperate frenzy. 
You stumble into the wall, smashing your hand onto the top floor button and feeling the elevator start to rise, but not fast enough. 
“Lucky me,” Natasha pants between kisses. “Getting to go home with the newly-christened CEO of Envy Industries.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight,” you respond, heat rising between your legs. “Of course you were coming home with me.”
Natasha glows with the praise and pulls your head into her chest, where you instinctively lick and nip at the flesh of her exposed breasts and she keens at the attention. When the elevator doors open again, you stumble out with her still in your arms, your feet automatically taking you down the path to your apartment. Thankfully, your apartment door opens automatically when your key card is in range, so you’re able to kick it open with your foot, without having to put her down.   
You carry her straight to the bedroom, dropping her on the freshly-changed sheets you had housekeeping put on after you were done with the two models from earlier. You can hardly remember your time with them and your body is practically vibrating in anticipation like you haven’t had sex in years. You crawl on top of Natasha, lowering yourself to kiss her again, this time with more passion and her arms snake over your broad back, pressing your body against hers.  
“I need to get you out of this dress,” you pant, desperate for skin-to-skin contact with her. 
“You first,” she says, releasing you as you sit up, yanking off your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You’re annoyed at your choice of shirt, a white button-up that has way too many buttons, as you impatiently pop them off one at a time and remove your bra. Natasha watches you with hunger in her eyes and you’ve never felt more proud to reveal yourself to another partner. The daily, painful 2-hour visits to the gym and strict adherence to a customized diet showed in your chiseled physique, your biceps bulging like you had baseballs under your skin, your perfect washboard abs, and your thighs were sturdier than tree trunks. 
“Fuck,” she mutters, reaching up to run her hand across your abs like she can’t believe you’re really in front of her. “I could look at you all day.”
It’s a common reaction most people have, but it definitely heats you up more when it comes from Natasha. “Your turn, gorgeous.” 
She sits up and turns around so you can access the zipper of her dress. You sweep her hair to the side, stealing a kiss to her neck because you really can’t help yourself. Natasha hums in appreciation and you lower her zipper slowly. Her dress pools at her waist like a glimmering green puddle. She isn’t wearing a bra so your hands immediately gravitate to cup her breasts, and she arches her back against your bare chest. 
“Are you gonna fuck me the same way you do to every girl you have in here?” she asks, placing one of her hands over yours and guiding it down her stomach, where your fingers part through her soaking folds. 
“If you want me to,” you say, pressing deeper into her and she whines at your touch. “But I’ll give you whatever you want.” Normally, you enjoy being in full control in the bedroom, but you are absolutely willing to give that up if it pleases Natasha. 
She suddenly pushes your hand away from her center; you can still feel traces of her stickiness on your fingers. “Do you have a strap? I want to ride you.”
Your stomach flips at the thought of her on top of you, grinding down on you until she finishes. Her heaving bosom in your face for you to suck and kiss while she enjoys the orgasm you gave her. 
“Yeah, let me grab it.” While you launch yourself off the bed to go fishing around your nightstand drawer, Natasha nudges her dress to the floor and delicately removes her long necklace, settling back comfortably on your king-sized bed while she waits for you. You take off your pants and pull the harness over your waist, turning back to the mouth-watering sight of her naked and ready for your taking. Her body is toned and curved in all the right places: clearly, she respected her body as much as you did to yours. There are few things you love more than a woman who takes care of herself.
You climb back onto the bed and Natasha pounces on you while you’re still getting into position, holding onto your biceps to pin you down. You catch sight of her glimmering wetness as she drags herself along your abs, pressing back against your cock until it rubs against her butt. You reach over to grab the bottle of lube always present on your nightstand and squirt a generous glob onto your strap, not that it looks like Natasha will need it. 
“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?” you tease, your hands running up and down her sides. Natasha takes you by surprise when she shoves you back against the headboard.  
“Shut up and let me fuck you,” she growls, her voice dangerously dropping an octave. Natasha lifts herself up to line herself with the head of your cock and slides down in one move. The slick noise as it fills her is downright sinful. Your big hands wrap around her tiny waist, guiding her to bounce in an aggressive rhythm as the two of you watch your cock disappear inside of her. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans, throwing her head back, red hair spilling over her shoulders. “That feels so good.”
“Look how well you’re taking me,” you praise, your hips jerking up to match her rhythm. Even though you can’t necessarily feel it, you swear her pussy is clenching around the toy, greedily sucking you in and requiring physical effort to pull out. Your own clit is throbbing as the toy bumps it every time Natasha slams down on your thighs. 
“Deeper, babe. Go deeper,” Natasha begs, moving her hands from your shoulders to the headboard, grabbing it so firmly you hear the wood crack. You change the angle of your hips, punching them up to satisfy her command. The bed frame creaks and shakes; you know your father would be unhappy to hear he has to order you a new one so soon, but you can’t be bothered to care right now.
“Fuck, right there. That’s it,” Natasha moans, rolling her hips with such fluidity it makes your stomach clench. She looks down at you, admiring the flex of your muscles as you do your best to please her, a singular bead of sweat running over your collarbone and sliding down between your breasts. 
“I’m close. I’m almost fucking there,” she warns, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm. But you keep your intense pace, until your abs are cramping and you’re certain there are bruises on your thighs. Your own arousal burns like a ball of white-hot fire and you so desperately want to make this woman cum you will gladly ignore the ache of your own orgasm for hers. 
“You’re fucking me too well, baby. I’m gonna lose it,” Natasha pants and the praise almost breaks your control. She throws her head back as she finishes and you bury your face in her heaving chest, tasting the sweat on her skin and sucking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her hand abandons the headboard to tangle in your hair, yanking almost painfully at your roots while you feel her cum spill onto your lap. She pushes your head away once she’s done, your lips parting from her nipple with a string of saliva, and lifts herself off your cock. The two of you are panting in unison, while you’re still fighting the simmer of arousal in your gut.
“Hmm, that was nice. Do you normally let your partner finish first?” she asks, resting her hands on your chest again. “I didn’t think you were the type.”
Your face burns in embarrassment because she’s not wrong. “Um…no,” you admit, knowing full well you could lie, but you feel like she’ll be able to see through it.
Natasha smirks. “Such a gentlewoman with me,” she says, bending over to kiss you, this time much more softly than before. 
“Only for you,” you murmur back, shocked at how whipped you already are for her. 
“You want me to help you finish?” Natasha asks, pushing the strap aside to brush her fingers across your hot center. Your hips jerk off the bed, almost launching Natasha into the air. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles, climbing off your lap and helping you pull the strap off your waist. You’re practically frozen in anticipation, watching with bated breath as Natasha scoots herself down the bed and lowers her head between your legs.
You melt at the feeling of her mouth against your center, perfectly hot and wet. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue glides through your folds, lapping up the mixture of body fluids like it’s some kind life-saving elixir. 
“Shit, baby, that feels amazing,” you moan, burying one of your hands in her red tresses, motioning with your hips that you want her deeper. She obliges by wrapping her lips around your clit and giving it a few hard sucks that have you seeing white stars behind your eyelids. You let go of her hair, afraid you’ll tear it out and grab onto the Egyptian cotton sheets tightly. Her tongue pushes into you and you swear you convulse around it, already leaking into her mouth when she’s only just started to go down on you.
Natasha’s arms wrap around your powerful thighs, trying to force them apart as you close them around her head. You don’t mean to put her in awkward, even dangerous position, but you can’t think about anything other than the pulsing in your center, soothed and encouraged by the heat of Natasha’s mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress to prevent yourself from bouncing across the bed at the rocking motion your body had adopted to maximize your pleasure. Every time her tongue slips into you, the muscles in your stomach contract so sharply it almost hurts, and when she laps at your clit, the stimulation is so great you feel immediately dizzy.
“Natasha,” you pant, unable to hold out any longer. “I’m gonna…Please let me…” 
She presses into you with even more enthusiasm than before and your body seizes as you release yourself into her mouth. Natasha eagerly collects all your slick, her red lipstick smeared on the insides of your thighs.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moan, feeling your high is going to last forever. But just the sensations start to fizz, you realize Natasha still has her iron grip on your legs, keeping them spread apart.
“I want another,” she demands, in a sultry tone that almost pulls the second orgasm from you right there.
“Natasha,” you whine, fearing you are too sensitive to deliver her wishes. You twist your body back and forth, half-heartedly trying to free yourself. But Natasha won’t let you, lowering her head to your heat and taking what she wants. Overly stimulated, every muscle in your body goes rigid as fireworks of pleasure, bordering the line of painful, explode inside of you. Natasha’s tongue somehow reaches even deeper than she had the first time, the tip pressing against your front ridged wall and you lose it for the second time in minutes.
“Oh, fuck!” you cry, your back arching off the bed but Natasha holds your waist down, determined to not let a drop of your essence go to waste. Your head is spinning and your body is like a live wire of excitement, twitching and trembling until you have no more energy left and and you melt into a limp mess.
Natasha kisses up your abs, between your breasts and licks at the column of your sweaty throat. Her lips finally connect with yours and you can taste a hint of yourself mixed with hers. You can’t wait to taste her straight from the source, but it’s going to take a bit of time to find the strength to move after two back-to-back orgasms. She wraps her arms around your torso, nuzzling into the side of your chest and inhaling deeply.
There is a long, but not uncomfortable silence as you two of you find your breath.
“I’m not letting you leave until you sit on my face,” you finally say. Natasha looks up at you with a satisfied grin.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, crawling up so she can do just that.
***********************************************************************
The moment Natasha made eye contact with you, she knew you were done for. You were far too predictable. She knew exactly the kind of woman you chased after. She knew what she needed to say to catch your attention, to convince you that she deserved a private moment with you.
You were too easy.
When you were so busy looking at her lips, trying to figure out when the right moment to kiss her was, you didn’t notice her take your phone out of your pocket, plug a flash drive into the charging slot, and return it back to your pocket in record time.
As you carry her in the elevator, your face buried in her breasts while she slips a tiny audio recorder into the pocket of your blazer. Through the fog of pure lust for you, Natasha struggles to but succeeds in making a mental map of your apartment. Where your office is, how many computers you have.
After numerous orgasms, she’s sufficiently fucked your brains out and cuddled with you long enough for you to pass out into an impossibly deep slumber, she gets up and heads into your office. She doesn’t need more than five minutes to hack into your devices and steal all the data saved on them. She chuckles to herself at how easy the task is; if she had known it would’ve been this simple and enjoyable, she would’ve come after you a long time ago.
Natasha gathers all her things and excuses herself from your apartment without a good-bye.
***********************************************************************
DAY 2
When you wake up the next morning, your mind a haze from the absolute debauchery that occurred the previous night. You rub your eyes and roll over, finding yourself naked and alone in bed. There is a deep soreness in your body, in almost every muscle, and some you haven’t felt for a long time. Natasha’s scent of vanilla and cherry lingers, but she’s nowhere to be found.
“Fuck,” you grumble, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. It’s been blowing up with notifications, which is a little unusual, but you assume it’s mostly from friends still congratulating you on your promotion. You open a text from your best friend and work partner, Tony.
From Tony: You fucked up, dude.
He included a link to a TMZ article. You click on it, half-wondering if it’ll send you to some troll site. The headline reads:
New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 
Everything clicks to you now.
“Oh, fuck.”
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AN: Click here for Part 2!
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waterhousse · 7 months
Text
Invisible String
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pairing: college!ellie williams x reader
summary: a week in your life where someone leaves you an anonymous note and you also meet a cute girl in one of your classes.
author’s note: this is un(necessarily) LONG, so take your time to read it. i hope you still enjoy it !! <3
• • • •
monday
you were in front of your dorm, digging for your keys in the mess of your backpack when a high-pitched voice yelled your name. of course, it could only belong to you best friend, blair. you prepared yourself to receive one of her bone-crushing hugs.
“there you are! i sent you like a million messages!”
“everything okay?” you asked before pulling away.
“yeah, i just have a little proposal.”
you narrowed your eyes at her, “what are you scheming?”
“you see, my gorgeous boyfriend is throwing this massive party on friday—”
“immediately no.”
“oh, c’mon!” she grumbled. “it’s been like five months since the last time we went out together. i miss my drunk little partner,” she pouted, pinching your cheek.
you let out a laugh, softly pushing away her hand out of your face. “i’m not exactly in a party mood, blair. i’m sorry.”
you made a poor attempt to avoid eye contact, but the weight of her stare was a difficult one to ignore. you looked back at her, already defeated.
“it’s nothing serious, but i’ve just been feeling a little insecure. and i’m okay,” you were quick to clarify, “i just want to stay in my dorm and watch a movie or something. it’s only temporary, i’ll feel better soon. you know i always do,” you opened the door and waited for her to inside first.
“how many times do i have to tell you you’re gorgeous for you to believe me? look at you!”
“blair—”
“i’m serious.”
“i know you are. thank you,” you replied softly. “forget about it, let’s just go inside. i’m tired and i wanna sleep.”
your friend had a worried look on her face, but decided to drop the subject, “still no roommate?”
“nope,” you grinned, closing the door behind you. “i’d invite you to live with me but you’re too busy staying at your boyfriend’s,” you teased her.
“can you blame me? his apartment is the size of a million of these dorms combined,” she exaggerated. “besides, he’s the sweetest man to ever exist. he’s every girl’s dream.” she sighed dreamily as she threw herself on the unoccupied bed. you raised your eyebrows at her, to which she rolled her eyes. “if he were a girl you’d be after him, too.”
after your friend bragged about her boyfriend for a few more minutes, both of you ended up falling asleep, totally drained from your long, boring classes. you woke up two hours later thanks to blair’s boyfriend who called her wondering where she was.
“wanna go grab some coffee? he’s paying!” blair offered with a big smile, which you returned.
“maybe he is every girl’s dream after all.”
you and blair headed outside shortly after, gossiping about people you didn’t even know. suddenly, your sleepy eyes spotted something strange on the door, more specifically, on the whiteboard you had outside. someone had left an anonymous message on it.
the prettiest girl on campus (and of everywhere else too) i wish i could come up with the courage to talk to you. guess i’ll just admire you from afar
ps: not in a creepy way
ps2: seriously sorry if this is creepy
you stared blankly at the message, reading it over and over again.
“did you do this?”
“hold on, i’m looking for that one tweet i saw. i’m telling you, she’s cheating on him—”
“blair!”
she finally looked up from her phone, “what?”
“did you do this?” you pointed at the board.
her expression comically changed from confusion to extreme excitement, eyes widened and mouth hung open. an over exaggerated gasp left her lips before she grabbed you by the shoulders.
“oh my god! you have a secret admirer!”
“no, i don’t. that’s probably not for me. someone must’ve mistaken my dorm for somebody else’s.”
“your name is literally on that board. besides, you are the prettiest girl to ever exist, so, i’m pretty sure they’re not mistaken.” blair kept looking at the note, meticulously analyzing it. “let’s pray it’s not a man who wrote this. imagine if he confesses his feelings for you in person. he’d be in for a very awkward rejection.”
you tried to downplay the situation by telling blair it was probably just a joke, but on the inside you couldn’t stop wondering who did it. as you walked down the hallway, you discreetly checked the whiteboards from the other dorms. all they had were random doodles and people’s names, nothing else.
tuesday
you were currently sitting under a big tree, admiring the sunset. birds chirped softly at the distance, adding even more magic to the beautiful scenery in front of you, but even the peaceful atmosphere that surrounded you wasn’t enough to calm your racing mind.
the anonymous note was certainly the most interesting thing that had happened to you in a while, but you were a serial overthinker. besides making you feel extremely curious about the identity of the person who wrote it, it had also made you spiral about the way you acted towards strangers.
being content with your small circle, you never put any effort in starting conversations with someone you didn’t already know. you felt as if you didn’t need anyone else in your life, but was that a mistake? what if the mystery person tried talking to you but you acted uninterested? what if they attempted to make eye contact but you were too busy staring down?
the most important question spinning around your head was how many special bonds had you lost simply because of your behavior?
as your silent crisis continued, the sun began to disappear on the horizon until it was fully dark. your eyes quickly found the moon, with the sky being clear, you could see her perfectly.
you took out your phone to take some pictures of the satellite, as well as everything else around you. the trees, your coffee cup, an empty bench and an orange cat that was laying next to it.
just as you were taking photos of the cute animal, someone crouched down next to him to pet him. that was the moment you saw her. a girl you had never seen before, but who managed to catch your attention right away. she was simply beautiful. many people, places, art pieces and more had been described with that adjective, but in your mind, that unknown girl was the first being in history to be worthy of it. you were completely mesmerized.
you put down your phone and watched the sweet moment develop in front of you. you could tell she was speaking to the cat, who seemed to really enjoy her company. the girl got up after a few minutes, giving the cat one last scratch between his ears before leaving. a frown instantly appeared on her face the moment she looked away from the animal, making you chuckle. she looked absolutely intimidating, the total opposite of what you had just witnessed.
your eyes followed her until she disappeared from your sight, but her image stayed on your mind for the rest of the day.
wednesday
you were having one of those days when everything that can go wrong, goes wrong. you had slept through your alarm, didn’t have time to have breakfast, couldn’t find your books and forgot your jacket on your way out. one may think it couldn’t get worse, well, unfortunately, it could.
you felt your soul escape your body when the, feared by many, physics professor laid his demonic eyes on you. you were certain you looked insane; hair a total mess, completely out of breath and slightly shaking from your nervousness.
“class started ten minutes ago,” his strident voice echoed in the big classroom. you didn’t even need to look to know everyone’s eyes were on you.
“i know,” your voice pathetically quivered. “sorry.”
“for your information, if you have somewhere to be you wake early enough to make it on time. it’s not rocket science, all of your classmates did it.” when he got no reply from you, he sighed. “there’s only one more seat available at the back. lucky for you, you’ll be sitting next to one of my best students. maybe you could be friends, she could teach you how to get here on time.”
with your eyes glued to the floor, you walked straight to where the professor pointed to without making a sound. you tried your best to ignore your classmates’ stares, but they lacked discretion.
fortunately for you, a nice surprised awaited you. the student the professor mentioned was none other than the girl you had seen the day before. she was even more beautiful up-close, which wasn’t exactly a good thing. she had just witnessed your most embarrassing moment. still, her eyes radiated kindness.
“this guy’s an idiot. you were only a few minutes late and didn’t even miss much. he was just struggling to turn on the projector the whole time,” the girl whispered at you once you sat down.
you were ready to reply with just a ‘yeah’, but the crisis you had the day before stopped you.
“he’s the worst,” you replied instead. “i always feel on the verge of puking whenever he looks at me,” the regret you felt after saying that was immediate, fearing it was too much information.
you felt yourself relax at the sound of her laugh, and of course it had to be the most heavenly sound you had ever heard.
“i’m ellie williams,” she leaned in, reaching over for your hand. you introduced yourself as your brain started mindlessly picking up details about her, like the fact that she had many freckles scattered all over her face.
you held her gaze for a few seconds before looking back at the professor, who had begun talking about punctuality. he sent you multiple looks during his whole speech, you found it hilarious. he looked like as if his eyes were about to pop out of his sockets.
trying to act as normal as possible, you grabbed your water bottle and took a sip in an attempt to calm down. you realized that was a huge mistake once you glanced at ellie, who was trying her hardest to hold in her laugh. you almost spit out your water when she made eye contact with you, causing you to choke.
“shit, you alright?” she leaned in, now fully laughing, and patted your back.
“yes— yeah,” you managed to say in between your coughing and laughing. you looked around, noticing how quiet the classroom had gotten. yours’ and ellie’s voices were the only thing cutting through the deadly silence. “sorry, i choked on water— sorry,” you apologized to the professor, who was impatiently tapping his foot on the floor.
“may i continue, ladies? is that okay with you two or should i wait for you to be done?” neither of you answered, so he let out one of his classic sighs. “as i was saying…”
the moment he looked away, you covered your face with your hands, trying to muffle the giggles that were escaping your lips. ellie was in the same state as you, which only made things worse.
“if he didn’t hate me before, he sure does now,” you whispered, eyes sparkling with amusement. “why does he have to be such a dick? it’s not like a choked on purpose. i could’ve died,” you dramatized.
actually, it’d be very rare to die from choking on a liquid, ellie almost said, but she didn’t want you to think she was a smart-ass. instead, she just kept laughing.
silence grew between the two of you as you came back to your notes and tried to pay attention to the class. ellie’s eyes inevitably fell on you again, trying to come up with something to say to keep the conversation going.
“you know, i, personally, wouldn’t take advice from a person like him, but i think he’s right about us being friends.”
“yeah, i think he is,” you warmly smiled before looking down at your notes again, unable to hold her gaze.
having fun in physics class seemed impossible at the beginning of the semester, but it had actually happened. you and ellie talked the whole time, which made the minutes go by faster than expected and also annoyed everyone around you.
“see you next wednesday? try to be on time, though. i don’t want him to kill you in front of the whole class.”
you laughed at ellie’s words and nodded, “see you next week.”
i really hope it’s sooner than that, the thought appeared in your mind without warning. you watched ellie go, a shy smile appeared on your lips when she glanced back at you and caught you staring.
the rest of the morning felt boring and uneventful in comparison to physics class, so you were really excited to finally be back at your dorm. your tired eyes fell on the whiteboard, no message from the mystery person. you tried to ignore how weirdly disappointed you felt and went inside, telling yourself it had been, probably, a one time thing.
thursday
shyness had never been a problem for you but, still, socializing wasn’t really your thing. if there was a chance for you to avoid interaction with strangers, you took it, so it was certainly weird seeing ellie at the dining hall and feeling an intense need to say hi. good thing she wasn’t exactly a stranger, right?
she was sitting alone in one of the most secluded tables, eyes focused on her phone. without giving it much thought, you walked towards her, but you began second guessing your decision once you realized she probably wanted to be alone. your steps became more hesitant the closer you got to her and just as you were about to turn around and leave she looked up. her surprised expression quickly changed into a delighted one.
“hey,” she greeted as she took off her headphones.
“hi,” you smiled back as a feeling of panic started setting in. you had absolutely no idea of what to say to her.
“you can sit if you’d like,” she offered, gesturing to the seat in front of her.
“you’re not busy? i can leave if you alone if—”
“no way,” ellie shook her head and, with her foot, pushed the chair towards you before looking up at you. “c’mon, sit.”
the moment you sat down, she leaned forward. you, instinctively, leaned back, but kept your hands just a few inches away from hers. you bit the inside of your cheek, trying your hardest to hold her gaze.
“so, how you’ve been? had any nightmares about our beloved professor yelling at you?” ellie asked, amused. you internally thanked her for starting the conversation.
“i can see his spit flying at me in slow motion whenever i close my eyes,” you replied, making ellie laugh. “that was definitely the last time i’m late to class. i hate attention, if i have to go through something like that again i’ll just die on the spot.”
ellie’s smile hadn’t faded since the moment she saw you, “just try not to be late to any of his classes, he’s the only one who gives you shit for that,” she adviced. “i knew he was insane because i’ve heard about it, so i tried to get on his good side by always being early. i considered sitting at the front, too, but that was too much.”
“you always sit at the back?”
“yeah, i don’t like having people behind me. for some reason, it really freaks me out knowing someone is staring at the back of my head.”
you hummed in response, mind deep in thought. you never looked at the back when you entered the classroom, in fact, you kept your head down, but ellie had always been there.
how many special bonds had you lost simply because of your behavior?
“hey, my friend’s boyfriend is throwing a party this friday, i was wondering if you’d like to go.”
“cool, yeah, of course,” ellie quickly replied.
“yeah?” you beamed, biting down your bottom lip.
“yes,” she nodded, the corners of her mouth quirking up again, “can i bring a friend?”
“sure,” you smiled. you took out a pen and a post-it from your backpack and wrote the address before sticking it on her hand. your eyes wandered further and ended up on her watch. without a second thought, you grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to you, tilting your head to see the time. “shit, i gotta go to class, but i’ll see you friday?”
“see you then,” ellie said, but she didn’t want you to leave, and you didn’t want to go either. she hesitated before calling your name, making you turn around. “can i walk you to class?”
the question lingered in the air as you processed it. it had caught you completely off guard, which ellie could tell just by seeing your expression. fearing she messed up, time began moving slower and slower to her until you finally accepted her offer with a huge grin on your face.
ellie released the air stuck in her lungs before catching up with you. anyone with a pair of working eyes could see how nervous the two of you were, except yourselves. you were too busy focused on not to embarrass yourself by tripping and ellie was trying to regulate her breathing. neither of you dared to talk because it would make it too obvious, but ellie finally broke the silence once you stepped outside, asking you what class you had.
you had always hated small talk because you feared there’d be a point in which you wouldn’t know what else to say, but that moment never came with ellie. the conversation flowed smoothly between smiles and chuckles from the both of you.
“oh, look!” she suddenly said, casually grabbing you by your shoulder as if she had done it a thousand times before. you followed her line of sight and gasped when your eyes spotted a familiar orange cat. it was the same one you had seen ellie pet when you didn’t even know her yet. “wanna go say hi?”
“how is that even a question?”
ellie was the first one to approach him, crouching down in front of him. you copied her action a second later, already eager to pet him.
“his name is orange. original, right?” ellie sarcastically asked, gaining a laugh from you. “i didn’t name him, by the way. he has a tag with his name.”
“hi, little guy,” you pouted, scratching the back of his head.
“he must live nearby because he’s always here,” ellie told you. “he’s missing an eye, but he’s still cute, right?” she glanced over her shoulder.
you two were close. closer than a simple girl like ellie could handle. your perfume was all that she could smell, you were the only thing she could look at and her own heartbeat was the only sound she could hear.
“he’s the cutest,” you chuckled.
you stayed there for a couple more minutes. ellie told you about the first time she saw orange and you told her about the pets you had back home. it was such a sweet conversation, both of you using soft voices to not scare the cat away.
“alright, let’s go. i don’t want you being late to another class,” ellie told you as she stood up. “see you later, dude,” she waved at orange. surprisingly, the cat meowed back. “we’re best friends,” ellie jokingly bragged as both of you began to walk again.
“do you think he’ll accept me as a friend, too?”
“oh, absolutely. he loves you already.”
you ended up getting to class just in time, but you wouldn’t have cared if you were late. if it were for you, you would’ve skipped it just to keep hanging out with ellie.
“see you tomorrow, then?” you asked, hopeful.
“see you tomorrow,” ellie confirmed as she took a few steps back in your opposite direction, her eyes never leaving you until she fully turned around.
friday
it had been a while since you’d last chosen an outfit with someone in mind, wondering if they would like it. it took a while, but you finally settled on one. it was neatly laying on top of your bed.
“she’ll totally fall in love when she sees you in that,” blair’s voice cut through the silence, startling you.
“i’ve no idea who you’re talking about,” you obviously lied.
“maybe the girl you’ve been talking to me about since you met her?” blair guessed, “or is it the mysterious person who left you that note on monday?”
“it’s not weird that i still think about who could it be, is it?”
even if you had many other things to think about, the identity of the secret admirer, as blair had called them, was something that you were still curious about. it was difficult not to overthink every interaction you had with strangers, especially those who you’d catch staring or were friendlier than normal with you.
“are you kidding? if i were you, i would’ve asked every single person on campus if they knew anything about it,” she sat down on your bed, next to where your clothes were and handed them to you with a wink. “both ellie and the secret admirer will die when they see you tonight.”
a pathetic giggle escaped your lips on the way to the bathroom. you quickly changed into your chosen outfit, a rare feeling of exciment growing on inside you.
once you arrived at the party, you wasted no time and started looking for ellie. there were many familiar faces in the already drunken crowd, some of them even waved at you, but you didn’t even notice. between the lights and the loud music, you could barely pay attention to your own thoughts.
“what was she like again?” blair asked you, trying to help you find her.
“hot,” you replied, still scanning the room.
“right, thanks. that really helps.”
you laughed, “she’s—” your description was cut short when you suddenly locked eyes with her across the room. there was someone by her side, a girl who looked familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint where you knew her from. “she’s here.”
ellie leaned into her friend’s ear to say something, but her eyes never left yours. you tried to remain calm as you watched her walk towards you, looking annoyingly attractive.
“hey, there you are,” she greeted once she was close enough for you to hear her.
“hi! you came,” you beamed. “this is blair, my best friend. blair, this is ellie.”
“it’s really nice to meet you,” ellie shot a quick glance at your friend before glueing her eyes on you again.
knowing that that was her cue to leave, blair gave you a squeeze on your arm, “if you’ll excuse me, i have to go find my boyfriend. enjoy the party,” she wiggled her eyebrows at you before disappearing into the crowd.
“shouldn’t you call your friend over?” it was a genuine question, not wanting ellie to ditch the person she was with for you, but you also needed to know if she was really just a friend.
ellie looked over her shoulder and let out a chuckle, “i think she’s pretty busy.”
confused, you looked behind her. all of your doubts were cleared once you spotted her, she was making out with some girl.
she was definitely just a friend.
“oh,” you let out a short laugh. “good for her.”
ellie nodded at your words before looking back at you again. you were still distracted by the show ellie’s friend was giving and were completely oblivious to the spell you had put her under.
“you look really good,” she blurted out.
you broke into a sweet smile at the sudden compliment, “oh, thank you. you do too. really, really good.”
the fluttering of your heart made you want to burst into giggles, feeling extremely giddy. it was obvious how flustered you were, but seeing ellie in the same state as you made you feel slightly better. you would’ve never guess she’d be the type of person who blushes.
“wanna go for something to drink?”
you nodded at her question before reaching for her hand with the excuse of not losing each other on the way to the kitchen. ellie’s fingers quickly intertwined with yours as you started to lead the way. you offered many apologizes to the people who you accidentally bumped into, the place was absolutely packed and it was difficult to move. the kitchen was no different, you had barely any place to walk.
you grabbed two beer bottles and handed one to ellie, who looked a bit flushed from the previous interaction.
“next time someone doesn’t move after i say ‘excuse me’ i’ll just hit them on their ribs,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “where did they put the bottle opener?” you muttered to yourself, but ellie seemed to have heard you.
“here, let me help.”
you passed her the bottle and watched as she opened it against the table, taking the top off immediately.
“impressive,” you praised her before taking a sip. you grimaced at the taste.
ellie leaned back on the kitchen island, keeping her eyes on you. there was an amused smirk on her lips, “you don’t like it?”
“not really. i mean, it’s not like i hate it, but i only drink beer when there’s no other option,” you shrugged your shoulders. “i think there’s more to drink over there but there’s too many people and i don’t feel like getting trapped between sweaty drunk dudes.”
ellie swept her gaze over the kitchen before walking towards one of the many cabinets. “there’s gotta be something else in here,” she said as she opened every single door. “there it is!” ellie turned around and your eyes fell to her hands, she was holding a bottle of vodka. it was almost empty. “shots, anyone?” she offered.
a guy who was at the kitchen cheered, “hell yeah!”
ellie frowned, disgusted. “not you. go get your own bottle.”
a laugh escaped your lips at how disappointed the guy seemed to be, he immediately left after ellie’s words. “that was kind of mean,” you chuckled lightly.
ellie couldn’t tell you that she actually blew him off because of how shamelessly he checked you out the moment you entered the kitchen, so she just shrugged her shoulders. “he didn’t find it. open up,” she commanded you, placing a hand on your chin. you opened your mouth and felt how ellie poured the liquid down your throat.
“gross,” you wrinkled your nose. you grabbed the bottle from her hands and copied her action, softly grabbing her by her chin. she drank what was left of the vodka and you left the bottle on the counter behind her.
ellie smiled at you as she swiped her fingers across the corner of her lips. she gave you one last glance before walking past you. you watched her open more drawers and cabinets.
“psst, come here,” she called you over.
“what did you find?”
ellie looked around to check no one else was listening. you laughed at how secretive she was being. “look,” she whispered, she had found a box of chocolate covered strawberries. “shall we?” she offered, eyebrows up.
“absolutely,” you accepted, laughing. “but not here. let’s go to the balcony. it’s closed but i know where they keep the keys.”
ellie pushed herself off the table she was laying on and grabbed your hand, “i’ll lead this time, i know where it is.”
you stared down at your hands, blindly trusting her to guide you.
“how do you know where it is?”
“well, i kind of looked everywhere for you when i got here,” she admitted. “thought you stood me up.”
“sorry, i took forever to get ready,” you apologized, embarrassed.
“don’t worry, it was totally worth it,” ellie shot a quick glance at you as she said that, knowing it would mess you up. her personality changed from shy to flirty in a matter of seconds, so you didn’t really know what to expect of her.
you let out a sigh of relief once you were on the balcony, grateful for how muffled the people and music sounded from outside. “i remember why i haven’t gone out in months now,” you rolled your eyes.
“not a party girl, huh?” ellie let out a chuckle, leaning against the wall. she offered you a strawberry, which you gladly took.
“not lately,” you replied after taking a bite.
“so what made you go out tonight?”
you shrugged, “it was an impulse,” your answer was honest, but it was missing the rest of it.
because i wanted to see you again.
“it really helps you’re here, though,” you clarified. “actually, it doesn’t only help, you’re the only reason i’m enjoying this.”
“same here,” she smiled at you before looking up at the sky, she got lost in her thoughts for a moment before speaking up again. “it sucks that city lights don’t let us see the stars properly.”
you scoffed at her words, “i know, but hey, at least we have the moon,” you pointed at the satellite. “she never disappoints.”
there had been a few times were you felt as if the universe was on your side, somehow listening to you. that night was the moment you confirmed your theory because, coincidentally enough, the lights went off in what it seemed to be the entire city. a collective scream was heard from inside the apartment, along with multiple curses.
you took out your phone and turned on your flashlight, accidentally pointing it at ellie’s eyes.
“ow!” she let out, squinting her eyes. you couldn’t help but laugh, to which she complained.
“sorry, didn’t mean to blind you. especially now,” your excitement was enough to spark ellie’s curiosity.
“what do you mean?”
“come with me,” you grabbed her hand for the third time that day, knowing you’d miss doing that when the night came to an end. you still hadn’t gotten used to the weird, almost electric feeling that tingled in your palm whenever you touched her.
you guided her through the disappointed multitude, letting out apologies every now and then and also pushing those who didn’t move after you politely asked. you couldn’t blame them, though, they had used the darkness to their advantage and were shamelessly making out.
the air was ten times colder on the terrace than it was on the balcony, but neither of you cared because once you looked up you forgot about everything else. well, except maybe each other.
the view was completely breathtaking. without the light pollution, the sky looked straight out of a painting.
“it’s like looking straight at space,” you whispered, eyes sparkling with excitement. you had only seen the stars like that once in your life when you were a kid. it was as magical as you remembered, and the person you were sharing the moment with only made everything more special.
“i know,” ellie gazed at you before looking up again. “it blows my mind.”
as the night went on, you talked about many different things whilst laying on the floor; how your lives back home were, your friends, your families, favorite movies and songs and of course, with both of you being astronomy students, space-related stuff. you two were interested in each other’s point of view about everything, so you discussed many different subjects, enjoying the freedom to be incredibly nerdy about it.
“our lifespan is way too short. i mean, think about it. look at how many things have changed and advanced in only a hundred years. can you imagine how the world will change in, like, a thousand years?”
“maybe in fifty more years scientists will discover the key to immortality and we’ll be able to see everything,” ellie shrugged her shoulders. “or we could try to discover it ourselves once we graduate.”
you let out a laugh, “such an easy thing to do,” you sarcastically said. “i’m in, but maybe we could try with something easier, like, finding extraterrestrial forms of life, perhaps?”
“apparently, they are already here,” ellie pointed out.
you turned your head at her, “we’ll be the first to make friends with them, then. we’re pretty nice people, they’ll warm up to us.”
“deal,” she smiled at you, inevitably glancing at your lips for a second due to the proximity.
you kept enjoying each other’s company. there were moments in which neither of you spoke but, surprisingly enough, you didn’t care. even silence was fun with her.
neither of you had experienced a connection as strong as the one you had, especially in such a short amount of time. you didn’t question it, thought, it just made sense.
after a while, the power came back. the city was illuminated and the music from the party was back on. you two sat up, a little saddened that you couldn’t stargaze anymore.
“it was fun while it lasted,” you commented, ready to return to the apartment. you picked up the beer bottles from the floor, along with the empty box of chocolate strawberries.
“we can always go camping,” ellie suggested. “the sky will look even better than tonight.”
“i have zero survival skills, so you’d be in charge of everything. i can interest you with some random facts, though.”
“sounds good,” she laughed as she stood by the door and opened it, waiting for you to go inside first. the walk to the apartment was quiet, hating the fact the that night was coming to an end.
the loud music welcomed you again, people were even crazier after having to wait half an hour for the power to come back. it surprised you to see the same amount of people, apparently, none of them had left.
“i know it’s a friday night but, how the fuck has your friend managed to not get kicked out yet?” ellie leaned into your ear.
“this building is mostly occupied by other students, so they are probably at the party, too,” you explained, raising your voice a little so she could hear you.
everyone was euphorically dancing, making up for the lost time. you glanced at ellie before grabbing her hand and dragging her to the improvised dance floor. she instantly followed you, completely mesmerized.
“oh my god, there you are! i thought i was imagining things when i saw you earlier,” a familiar voice said from behind you. it was tara, you shared some classes and had been partners in a project once. “you look so good.”
“oh, hey, tara. this ell—”
“yeah, hi,” she interrupted you, only glancing at ellie for half a second. “could you walk me to the bathroom? i– i don’t know where it is and i feel pretty sick.”
your eyes flickered between the two girls. you obviously wanted to stay with ellie, but tara had put you in a really awkward position.
“uh…” you hesitated, “where are your friends?”
“they already left,” she frowned. “c’mon, babe, come with me? please.”
the nickname she used echoed in ellie’s mind.
“i can’t, i—”
“you should go. i should check on my friend, so…” ellie’s lips were in a straight line, but she forced a smile when you looked at her.
“why don’t you come with us?”
ellie would’ve agreed if she hadn’t seen the nasty look tara had given her. she wasn’t intimidated by her in the slightest, but the thought of being a burden and indirectly forcing you not to leave her alone was enough to let you go, even if she didn’t want to.
“no, really. i need to go see if she’s okay. i’ll find you later.”
you didn’t have time to respond, because you had already been dragged away from there. tara started chatting your ear off about stuff you didn’t care, you could only think about ellie.
“do you want me to call you an uber or something?” you asked her.
“why would i wanna leave?”
“you said you were sick and you’re pretty drunk, you should go home.”
“oh, no, silly. i live in this building, maybe you could walk me to my apartment?”
you refrained from rolling your eyes in front of her and realized that the sooner you got rid of her, the sooner you could go back to the girl you actually wanted to be with.
“c’mon, let’s go,” you said. on the way out you messaged blair to find ellie and tell her you’d be right back, to which she answered she was on it.
you took the elevator to her floor. you could tell tara wanted you to initiate a conversation by the way she was looking at you, but you couldn’t care less about her. she hadn’t noticed, apparently, because she started talking about god knows what as you walked behind her, completely zoned out.
“wanna come in?” she asked you once you were outside her apartment. her intentions were crystal clear but, as flattered as you were, you couldn’t help but feel completely uncomfortable.
“uh, no, thanks,” you awkwardly said.
“you sure? i’ve got—”
“yes, tara, i’m sure. i gotta go, i’m sorry. you’ll be okay, though, right? see you around,” you took a step back with each word you said, by the end of the sentence you were in front of the elevator. you heard tara let out a very confused ‘bye’ before the doors closed.
you impatiently tapped your foot against the floor, wondering why was the elevator taking so long. once you were back at the party you immediately searched for ellie, but she was nowhere to be found. instead, you saw blair, who had a worried look on her face.
“hey,” you approached her. “did you talk to ellie?”
“i couldn’t. i saw her leave with that girl she was with like a minute after you texted me,” she grimaced. “what happened? why were you with tara?”
you sighed, “i’m so stupid,” you groaned. “tara found me and she put me in this really difficult spot, so i had to walk her to her apartment because she was pretty fucking drunk and feeling very sick, or at least that’s what she told me, and i did it as fast as i could, but—”
“okay, okay. stop. why don’t you text ellie and—”
“i don’t have her number.”
“try instagram?”
“i tried finding her on instagram the same day i met her and i couldn’t,” you awkwardly confessed. “she probably thinks i blew her off for stupid tara.”
“hey, calm down. i’m sure you’ll see her soon.”
sadly, that soon never came. saturday, sunday, monday and tuesday went by painfully slow. there was no sight of ellie.
wednesday
you were a hopeless romantic, even if you didn’t admit it out loud. deep down, you knew that meeting ellie wasn’t a coincidence. it could’ve happened at any given moment due to being classmates, but it did when you needed it the most.
it was unexpected, but as said before, you felt as if sometimes the universe was on your side, listening to your deepest desires, the ones you didn’t know needed to be fulfilled.
you had never felt a connection as genuine as the one you had with her. everything seemed easy with her, making you feel you’d known her for longer than a week.
that doesn’t happen often, especially to you, so you would do anything in your power to fix things.
you were currently in physics class, counting down the minutes for it to end. you had to fight the urge to look at the back to see if ellie was there.
the thought of her being mad at you for practically abandoning at the party you invited her to made you sick. you also feared she didn’t care at all, which was a hundred times worse.
once the class ended you waited for her outside, trying to calm down your racing heart. the majority of students had already come out. you had just started to lose hope of seeing her when you finally heard her voice. she was saying goodbye to the professor.
“hi,” you nervously smiled when she was in front of you. her looking as good as always didn’t help you calm down at all. “i’ve been hoping to see you since friday. i wanted to apologize—”
“oh, you don’t have to do that. i get it. i saw you leave with that girl, tara, was it? it’s okay, you don’t have to explain anything—”
“no, no. i didn’t leave with her,” you clarified. “she wasn’t feeling good so she asked me to walk her to her apartment, which was in that same building, and i only did it to get rid of her. i know i sound like a major dick, but i wanted to go back to you as soon as possible,” you confessed, heart beating a hundred miles per minute.
“you did?” there was a smile hiding on her lips, you could tell by the tone she used. she was amused and obviously enjoyed seeing you flustered.
“yes, and i told blair to find you and tell you that i’d be right back, but when i did you had already left and i had no way of communicating with you, so…” ellie was quiet, so you continued. “i’m sorry.“
it felt like an eternity until she spoke again. “i’m sorry i left.”
“it’s not your fault,“ you mused. “it’s tara’s.”
“it so is,” ellie let out a chuckle. “i’ll fuck her up.”
you laughed, which made ellie’s stomach flip. both of you became numb to your surroundings as you stared into each other’s eyes, dumb smiles plastered on your faces.
“hey, about that paper that we have to do on electromagnetism. would you, maybe, uh, want to do it with me?”
“yes, i’d love to,” you grinned. “we could meet at the library tomorrow. do you have any classes in the morning?”
“just one, it ends at 10.”
“see you at 11?”
“yeah,” ellie nodded.
“oh, i almost forgot,” you said before taking out your phone. ellie curiously watched you type something before you handed it to her.
an adorable smile formed on her lips when she saw you were asking for her number. you had already typed in her name with the alien emoji next to it.
“thank you,” you mused when she gave your phone back to you. you instantly sent her a text so she could save your number on hers, too.
“see you tomorrow :)”
ellie looked up from her phone, mouth upturned. “see you then.”
tuesday
“the library’s closed,” ellie announced the moment she saw you.
the lights were turned off and there was a sign on the door that read ‘closed for reparations’.
“awh, man,” you complained. “why didn’t they tell us sooner—”
“actually, they did. i just checked and they sent us an email about a week ago, we just don’t check our inbox,” ellie interrupted you, grimacing.
“oh, our fault then,” you shrugged your shoulders. “um, maybe we could go to my dorm? i don’t have a roommate so nobody will bother us,” you offered.
“woah, i’d give everything to have my dorm all to myself,” she groaned, tilting her head back. “why don’t you have a roommate?”
you didn’t realize you had already started walking together, mindlessly leading the way to your dorm.
“i had one at the beginning of the semester, but then she dropped out or something. they told me i’ll probably get one next semester, so i’m enjoying it while it lasts,” you explained.
ellie huffed, “my roommate is a music producer. she’s pretty considerate but sometimes she has to listen to her songs without headphones,” she rolled her eyes. “i think i’m gonna find a job and move out to an apartment.”
“you totally should. i’d do it too if i were capable of balancing work and college,” you told her. “you’re welcome to stay at mine’s for as long as you want and whenever you want, by the way.”
“really?” she grinned. “you’re already asking me to live together? i haven’t even met your parents, yet.”
you rolled your eyes, a playful smile growing on your lips, “fine, my offer is off the table, then.”
“oh, no. now it’s too late. i’m moving in tomorrow morning.”
ellie spent the entire walk planning an itinerary for when she moved in with you, which basically consisted in eating breakfast together, go to class, come back and have lunch together, have more classes, come back and have dinner together then have a sleepover every night.
“sounds fun, huh?”
“super fun,” you chuckled as you opened the door for her. “guests first,” you stepped aside, inviting her in.
“hey, this is practically my dorm, too, now,” ellie joked, curiously looking around as she scratched the back of her neck. she was trying her hardest not to show how nervous she actually was, but the fluttering on her stomach made it really hard.
you were in the same state as her, trying not to freak out. your eyes discreetly checked every corner of the room, making sure everything was in order and there was nothing embarrassing laying around.
ellie chuckled to herself when she noticed the ceiling was decorated with a bunch of stickers that glowed in the dark. stars and planets were placed all over.
“i know they’re childish,” you wrinkled your nose, visibly cringing.
“are you kidding? i love them. these will be the first thing i’ll buy for my new place,” her gaze fell from the ceiling to your eyes, a genuine smile spreading across her lips.
ellie kept looking around your dorm, grabbing stuff that caught her attention. it was funny seeing her ask for permission each time, looking back at you and pointing at the object she wanted to check out.
you took out your laptop from your backpack and sat down on your bed. it immediately bummed you out when you remembered that you had to do an assignment and weren’t just hanging out for fun.
“i’m gonna create a google drive file so we can both edit it later in case we don’t finish it today,” you informed her.
“yeah, that’s a good idea,” ellie replied, focused on a bracelet she had found on your desk. then, she continued snooping around your things, sometimes mumbling cool and i’m going to borrow this.
you checked the questions you had to answer and immediately sighed, “i’m completely lost.”
“want me to explain it to you?” she offered and you obviously accepted. ellie looked at the big whiteboard behind her and grabbed a marker from your desk. “okay, so you know that the earth’s core is mainly composed of liquid in the outer core and solid iron in the inner core?”
you tried your hardest to keep your attention on what she was saying, but the task turned impossible. her voice sounded muffled and you could only focus on how good she looked. you let out a few yeahs and rights when you thought it was appropriate, but the truth was that you didn’t know what the hell she was talking about.
“and this field has existed for at least three billions years, which is nuts, right?” you ears managed to make out of all the things she was saying. you saw how she laughed, clearly enjoying talking about the subject. you probably would too if you could be capable of actually listen and process what she was saying.
you watched as she continued to write and draw stuff on the board at the same time she explained something to you, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.
“that’s about it, got it?” she asked, turning around.
“uh…” you let out, not being capable of forming an actual sentence.
ellie chuckled, amused, “you alright?”
“yes, it’s just—”
“was there something you didn’t understand? i can go over it again,” ellie kindly offered, but you could hardly hear her over the loud beating of your heart.
you weren’t really planning to, but you stood up. it was as if you were on autopilot, there was something else controlling your body and you couldn’t do anything to stop it. you walked closer to ellie, who looked confused.
“if i’m being honest, i didn’t listen to a word you said,” you confessed, smiling guiltily. “i swear i tried to, but there was something else on my mind.”
“what’s that?” ellie asked in a whisper, eyes scanning your face. you were extremely close to her.
“i don’t think i can go another minute without kissing you,” you softly confessed, looking up into her eyes. her pupils were dilated and a light blush had started to color her cheeks.
“no one is stopping you,” she replied, wholly captivated by you.
not even a second later, you crashed your lips into hers. ellie joyfully giggled, but that didn’t stop her from hungrily kissing you back. her hands found their way up to the sides of your face while yours ended up tangled in her hair.
ellie broke the kiss first, but your lips were still touching. “i’m still deeply disappointed you didn’t listen to my physics lesson.”
“i’m sorry,” you chuckled. “i heard some parts, you were great. i learned a lot.”
ellie smiled before leaning in again, bringing you impossibly closer to her as she gave you a breathtaking kiss. you melted against her, already eager for the kiss to end just so you could do it over and over again.
“this would’ve happened sooner if it weren’t for tara,” ellie joked, reaching over to grab your hand.
“i’ll kill her next time i see her,” you were standing so close to each other that you replied with a whisper.
ellie frowned, “you’re not seeing her again.”
“oh? i would’ve never guessed you were the jealous type,” you teased her, placing your arms on her shoulders again and bringing her even closer to you. ellie looked even better than before. her lips were reddened, her hair was a mess and her eyes had become even more hypnotic.
you could’ve stayed admiring her for hours, but a glance over her shoulder was all it took for you to wake up from your trance. you walked past her to take a closer look at the whiteboard she had used. it wasn’t what she had written that caught your attention, but the handwriting itself. it looked incredibly familiar.
your mind quickly came up with a crazy theory, which ellie’s expression confirmed the moment you looked back at her.
“you were the one who left me that note on my door?”
ellie’s confident and teasing demeanor was long gone. she looked panicked. her heartbeat accelerated significantly and she felt as she was running out of air.
“oh my god,” your mouth fell agape, a smile creeping up on your lips. “you did!”
she covered her face with her hands, letting out a groan, “you weren’t supposed to know that.”
“why?”
“it’s embarrassing! we didn’t even know each other when i did it. it’s weird—”
“it’s sweet!”
“it’s weird,” she repeated, not being able to look at you.
you smiled fondly at her, reaching for her hand and giving her a squeeze, “it really helped me, you know? it was as if you knew i needed it.”
ellie grimaced, “well, i actually kind of did…”
“what do you mean?”
she sat down on your bed, making you sit next to her. you didn’t let go of her hand. instead, you played with her fingers in an attempt to calm her down.
“i visited my friend that day, her dorm is across the hall. i was just about to leave when i saw you coming. i panicked, so i hid and accidentally overheard what you were saying to your friend,” she admitted. “i meant what i wrote. i’ve thought that way about you ever since i first saw you. it seemed like the perfect moment to tell you, at least indirectly.”
“but why didn’t you tell me in person? or at least, talked to me sooner.”
“i’m not as brave as i look and you’re fucking intimidating.”
you let out a laugh in disbelief, “me, intimidating? look at you!”
“no, look at you. you’re way to beautiful for me to just come up to you and tell you that. who could have the guts?”
“oh my god, shut up,” you hid your face in your hands, feeling how your heart fluttered like crazy at her words.
“i couldn’t tell you after we began talking, either. we were just getting to know each other, it would’ve been weird,” ellie stared down at your intertwined hands. “it’s still kind of weird,” she mumbled more to herself than for you to hear.
not being able to take it anymore, you succumbed to the urge of throwing yourself at her, leaving many kisses all over her face. the sound of her laugh made the butterflies in your stomach to fly all over the place.
“you’re the sweetest girl i’ve ever met.”
“don’t say that about me. i have a reputation to maintain,” she jokingly rolled her eyes. “so, be honest, you don’t think it was weird?”
“of course not. i think it was fate.”
“fate?”
“wait here.”
you quickly walked over to your desk where you had left your phone. you immediately searched for the picture you had taken of her last tuesday and almost ran to show it to her.
“is that me?” ellie grabbed the phone from your hands and zoomed in the picture.
“yup,” you nodded. “this was the day before we first talked. i was taking pictures of orange and you appeared, out of nowhere. you looked as you’d beat the person who dared to speak to you,” a laugh escaped your lips. “i thought about for the rest of the day and hoped to see you again, and guess what? i did. see? it was fate.”
ellie warmly smiled, she caressed your cheek with her fingers before bringing you closer to give you the softest kiss ever given, “i guess it was.”
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lalunalando · 23 days
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The Love You Want - LN4
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warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, fluff (may make you cry a little), angst, swearing, slight degradation, thigh riding, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)
songs referenced: The Love You Want - Sleep Token / Granite - Sleep Token
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2 years.
It’s been 2 whole years since the love of your life walked out your front door after telling you it was over, he couldn’t handle the relationship alongside his career anymore, and that he never actually loved you.
So imagine the surprise you felt when you stepped out of your apartment elevator after returning from a long day of work, only to find him sitting at your door, a basket of dog toys and a bunch of your favorite flowers in hand…
“Lan? Wha-When did you get here? What are you even doing here?” You asked, shock evident on you face as you stood frozen like you’d seen a ghost.
“Oh thank god you didn’t move! I was hoping I wasn’t waiting outside some random apartment and about to scare a stranger” he chuckled, the sound that once felt like home to you now leaving your stomach feeling instantly nauseous.
“Lando, don’t avoid the question. What are you doing here?” You huff as you brush past him, opening your apartment door finally and stepping inside to put your belongings down knowing this probably wasn’t going to be a quick conversation by any means.
“Do you mind if I come in? This really isn’t a talk I want to have out here in the hallway..” he asks awkwardly, gauging your reactions and movements, expecting you to even slam the door in his face after the last time you both spoke. He deserved that, he knows it, but he really hopes you’ll let him in because he has so much he wants to say to you.
You move out of the doorway to let him through with a sigh that doesn’t go unnoticed, twisting at his heart knowing he’s at fault for how this is making you feel.
After closing the door behind him, you turn around and nod towards the dog toy basket with a confused look.
“Oh, I was hoping the pups were still here to give them to, I miss our kids…” he says as he looks down at the floor, suddenly wondering if it was still okay to call them “ours” as if he didn’t walk out on you all.
“They do, they’re just having a play date with the neighbors while I was at work, they’ll be dropped off in an hour” you respond as you head to the fridge, suddenly the bottle of wine in the fridge is seeming very tempting to crack open… “so Lando, I’m going to ask one more time, what are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can get out in the moment, he knows there’s a million other things he wants to say, but he froze, and that was the basis of why he was here anyway.
You freeze, halting the glass of wine you were currently pouring, and just stare at him blankly.
“Right, yeah, I should probably explain a little more than that” he laughs nervously while scratching the back of his neck. “Alright, well, I fucked up. I should never have walked out back then, I should have never said you were too much of a distraction to my career to be with and more than anything I should never have lied and said I never loved you.”
“Lan, it’s been two years, why now? Where is this suddenly coming from after two fucking years of no contact whatsoever? And why do you think I want to even hear it? What if I’ve moved on.” It all comes out before you can even stop yourself, the hurt and anger you’ve been keeping in since that day making you see red.
“I never stopped thinking about it, about you. I thought I couldn’t handle being away from you all the time and that you wouldn’t want to wait around for me all the time, but after every race I still just want to come home to you. And I know you haven’t moved on because the love we shared was once in a lifetime, I’m still full of the love you want, please just let me prove it to you. You can tell me you don’t still love me and I’ll leave you alone for good, and maybe you believe that in the end you will be better off that way, but I’m begging you to give me one more chance and I’ll be full of the love you want, no matter what, forevermore.”
By the time he’s done speaking, you both have tears in your eyes.
It was never truly over, you knew you could never stop loving him, no matter how much it hurt you.
Before you can stop yourself, you’re rounding your kitchen bench and closing the space between you both.
Desperate to feel his lips on yours and make up for the two years lost, to show him the love you harbored for him never left.
And boy, did he feel it all.
You needed more of him, you knew it was pathetic of you to fold so quickly but you’d already lost two years and didn’t want to waste any more of it, and when he wore that god damn playboy hoodie you always said you loved seeing him wear, there was no point denying how much you wanted him still.
“I hate that you still have this affect on me, I hate that I never stopped loving you, but most of all, I hate that you’ve still got me in a chokehold”
That confession is all he needed from you before he’s picking you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you down the familiar hallway to your room that he’s traveled so many times before, but with a newly found appreciation for all the pictures along the walls that you could never find it in your heart to switch.
As he throws you down on the bed and climbs over you, eyes blown and full of lust and longing, you can’t help but to admire him.
The gorgeous everchanging eyes, his adorable freckles and moles, and a slight beard he was finally able to grow after years of being teased by the other guys on the grid.
His lips are instantly back on yours, taking all the air out of your lungs and replacing it with his own as if it was the only way you could both live from then on.
You tug at the hem of his hoodie as his hands slide up your thighs to the edge of your skirt, both not ashamed of how fast you need the others clothes off.
Only pulling back for a second to take his hoodie off, his lips are immediately back on you, only finding their way down your throat this time.
Biting just hard enough to make you yelp, he’s instantly soothing the pain as he laps his tongue over the spot, causing you to whimper like the desperate little slut you always were for him.
Hands continuing their mission up your skirt, an almost animalistic growl comes from his throat as his fingers find the lace of your thong, completely drenched for him already.
“Always so ready for me baby, god you couldn’t be more perfect, you were made for me just like I was for you.” His voice filled with lust and love, reminding you that you will always be his.
Flipping you both over and settling you on his lap, he can’t help but want to draw it out a little longer, tease you a little more, make you beg for him.
You grind down on his lap, desperate for even a little relief, because as much as you hate to admit it, no one in the past two years has made you feel even remotely the way he does without even trying.
You’d had your fair share of fixes throughout the two years, using many men to your advantage to try and get over him, but none of them even came close to making you forget. No one did it as good as him.
“Someone is still just as needy and desperate as always huh?” You can feel the smirk even though his lips are against your neck, making you whimper again, just proving his point. “Do you want to show me just how much you missed me too? How good you can be for me?”
“Please Lan, need you, will do anything but I need you”
He laughs, and you know he’s got something sadistic and borderline humiliating in mind, but you don’t care because he knows you’ll do anything for him, you always will.
“Such a good girl, can you straddle my thigh for a second baby?” He says with a smirk you know means trouble.
You do as he says, and shift over to his thigh, giving him a look of confusion as you wait for his next instructions.
“Now baby, I want you to ride it.”
You gasp, this was new for the two of you but you couldn’t deny that it excited you a lot to try.
“I want to see how desperate of a slut you can be for me, I want to watch you get yourself off with nothing but my thigh.” He breathes into your ear as his hand hold your hips, helping you find a stable rhythm.
You can’t stop the sounds coming out of your mouth, and he wouldn’t want you to even if you could.
If Lando could listen to one thing on repeat for the rest of his life, it would be your sweet moans that only he can get out of you time and time again.
As you get louder and start stuttering your rhythm on his thigh, he knows you’re getting close.
“That’s my girl, come on, cum on my thigh and I’ll reward you for behaving so well baby”
That was enough to send you over the edge for what would be the first of many times that evening, screaming his name loud enough that you were sure the whole of Monaco could have heard you.
Still coming down from your high, he doesn’t give you a second to recover before he flips you back down onto the bed as he rids himself of his now ruined pants before pulling your own ruined panties off and climbing straight back over you, claiming your lips once again.
He doesn’t want to wait anymore, watching your angelic face as you came around his thigh was almost enough to make him finish right then and there. He couldn’t lie, he’d obviously been with a few women as well over the last two years while he tried to forget you, but he could never forget you, no one could ever compare to his girl.
Leaning over to your side drawer to find a condom where he knows you both used to keep them, he comes up empty and a little confused.
“I got rid of them, I never brought anyone over anyway.”
And it was true, you always went to your flings places instead, you couldn’t stand the thought of them ruining the memories shared between you and Lando in that apartment, in that bed.
“Do you want me to go grab some, i can run down t-“
“You don’t need it, i trust you.”
He stared at you in shock, he could count on one hand the amount of times you’d allowed him to go in raw before, and he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
He didn’t have to think much longer, your hand reaching down to tease his already painfully hard cock was all the confirmation he needed that you were serious about it.
Swiping his tip through your wet folds to help lube him up, he lines his tip at your entrance and slowly pushes in.
Seeing you slightly wince as you readjust to his size, he’s quick to worry.
“If you need me to stop at any point please just tell me” he says in a hurry.
“Just need a sec Lan, i forgot how big you are…” you said with a whimper, not missing the smirk that flashes across his face.
After a few seconds to get comfortable again, you’re urging him to move and he doesn’t hesitate for a second.
Slowly fucking you with more and more of his cock with each thrust until he’s bottoming out, he can’t help but moan at how you feel around him.
“Baby I’m not going to last much longer if you keep squeezing me like that, feel so warm and tight around my cock, this pussy was made for me”
This has you clenching around him again, drawing out the most feral growl you have ever heard from the man.
In an instant, he’s pulling out of you much to your disappointment, only leaving you feeling empty for a moment while he flips you over onto your front and pulls your ass up, digging his fingers into your hips so roughly that you’re sure there are going to be bruises in the morning.
Good thing he knows you love being marked up by him.
As soon as your ass is up, he’s quick to shove his cock back in, not giving you a moment to adjust as he starts mercilessly pounding you from behind.
This new angle somehow hits deeper, feeling him hit your cervix wall over and over again, mixing pain with pleasure and making you scream for him.
“That’s it angel, scream my name, tell everyone who’s making you feel this fucking good”
As he continues his brutal punishment on your pussy, winding a hand around your front to use his always skilful fingers to rub tight circles on your clit and help you chase your high, he feels your walls start to tighten again as your legs start to shake and knows his won’t be far behind.
“Where do you want me to finish princess? I want you to cum on my cock like the good girl you are but i won’t be able to last much longer” he grunts as he continues his rough pace, getting sloppier with each thrust as you tighten more and more with each one.
“Fill me please, need to feel you inside of me, this pussy is yours and only yours” you pant out, only fueling him to get rougher and faster, pushing you over that edge.
“Scream for me baby, i want all of Monaco to know who you belong to” and with that, you’re seeing stars. His name being the only word on your lips over and over again while you clamp around his cock, feeling his release only seconds after your own as he bites your shoulder to muffle his own moans.
You lay there for a while in pure fucked-out bliss, Lando having moved to be beside you and move your head onto his chest while his arm is around you playing with your hair.
“So, what does this mean for us now?” You have to ask, as the doubt starts creeping in again.
“I know i have a lot to make up for but if you’ll have me, i want to be yours again. I want to stay over whenever you’ll have me here, i want to fly you out to races with me when you can, but mostly, i want to show the world how much i love you, show them what I’m doing this all for at the end of the day”
Tears start welling in your eyes, and all you can do is nod before kissing him again, showing him all the emotions you can’t verbally say right now.
Just as the kiss starts heating up for another round between you two, a loud knock on your front door interrupts the moment.
“Cunt” is all Lando can say in frustration, making you laugh before getting up and pulling your panties back on and chucking his playboy hoodie on to cover you so you can answer the door to the intrusion.
As he lays there and waits for you to return, he can’t stop smiling and thinking about all the ways he plans to make everything up to you.
Maybe a ring in the near future, to show how serious he is and always has been about his angel…
Before he can think much longer, your two puppies come bouncing into the room looking for him, having smelt his familiar scent the moment they got home.
He can’t stop the wide smile from forming on his face, this was it.
This was home, and he never planned on leaving again.
As you stepped back into the room, you couldn’t help the smile forming on your own face.
The boy you loved with every fiber of your being, squealing while being attacked with kisses and jumped on by your fur babies. Your joint fur babies. Your little family was whole again.
Walking over to him you stop before him on the bed, him reaching out to pull you down onto his lap as you sigh happily.
You turn to look him in the eye and hold his face gently, you were glad he was back.
“What are you thinking now babe?” He asks, seeing the all too familiar look in your eyes
“I was more than just a body in your passenger seat, and you were more than just somebody i was destined to meet. I see you go half-blind when you’re looking at me. I love you Lan.” Kissing him again, sealing all your feelings and fate, giving yourself over to him for good.
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thatanimeramenchick · 3 months
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Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Pt. 2
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Eh, what have you guys done to me. I swear, we Vox fangirls are the thirstiest on the internet right now. Also, officially, I’m making this a three part series, but that’s it. So much for a oneshot. I'll make a title for this series, eventually. Also, if you want to be tagged, please put your age in your bio.
Part One - Part Three
Triggers: Dubcon-y vibes in scenes. Violence and threatening. Read responsibly, stuff is gonna get a little dark this chapter.
Word count: 3,142
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Vox thought you looked perfect. For once, you were wearing something decent that he bought you instead of one of the plain outfits from before you had moved in. Somehow, you had been convinced to put on actual jewelry and makeup as well. The only flaw you held was the dirty look on your face, which you refused to face towards him directly, and it only got dirtier as you downed more and more wine.
“You know, you could at least attempt to have a good time after all the effort I put into this evening,” he said, “You haven’t even touched your food.”
“Not hungry,” you said, voice ice cold. It always was nowadays.
“If you’re not in the mood for dinner, we could watch a new production I oversaw,” he said, “I think you’d enjoy it.”
You snort at that.
“I’d rather listen to Alastor’s radio program than watch any of the hot trash your production company creates,” you said.
“I’m sorry? What was that?” he said, putting a warning hint into his tone.
“You heard me,” you said, “I’ve gotta say for someone supposedly so modern, you’re still just an old man. Alastor is what? Like twenty years older than you? And you think he’s elderly? You’re practically a decrepit bygone as well. You think anyone gives a shit about cable nowadays? At least Alastor has the decency to make stuff with class and not just forgettable, cheap cash grabs.”
Against his will, he felt a circuit spurt. His hand clenched around the glass and slammed it onto the table, causing you to jump. A small noise left your mouth, as panicked as the look in your eyes was now. You looked like you knew that you had pushed a little more than you probably should have.
“You know what?” he hissed, “You think you can just talk to me like that? Fine. You wanna play rough with me? Well guess what, I’m going to fuck that bad attitude right out of you!”
“Excuse me???”
You didn’t even look scared at that just shocked and baffled, as if that had been the last thing you had expected to hear.
“You heard me!” he grabbed you by your shoulders and shoved you flat onto the couch, “I’m sick of you fighting me. Well, you’re not going to after this.”
“W-wait, Vox, stop-”
He smashed his lips to yours, purposefully being harsh, biting you when you tried to keep your mouth closed. When you attempted to turn your face away, he grabbed your chin rough enough where he knew it would leave a mark before kissing you harder. You pounded your fist against his chest, but he ignored it, straddling you. He eventually used his other hand to grab your wrist and push it into the couch.
He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point in your struggle something shifted in the air. Changed. You had finally stopped fighting, slowly wrapping your arm around his neck, kissing him back. It was heavenly, you finally submitting to him. Yes, yes, yes… He paused to look you in the eyes, to see your timid gaze and red face. There was still a look of anger glazed across your features, but it was fading. He brought his hand up to play at the buttons on your blouse. You looked at each other for a second longer before you initiated a kiss for once, using the arm around his neck to pull him close. Your tongue felt so hot, so right, as if your body was as electric as his own and-
Vox gasped, a spark running through his head. He woke up alone in bed, a literal hot mess. He felt like his head was overheating, running a million miles a minute, despite the fact that he should feel cold from sleep. Mixing this with the slick sweat and fluid he was covered in, it was an uncomfortable feeling. Groping for the robe hanging next to his bed, he climbed out. What a dream. He needed a second to wire down from that before trying to go back to sleep.
He picked up his phone and opened it to check on you. The camera in your room showed you curled up on your mattress, blanket half off your body and arms wrapped around one of your pillows. It pressed into your dozing face, which held a peaceful, relaxed look that he rarely saw now that you had decided to go to war with him. His finger absently stroked your image on the screen.
Why did you have to be so difficult? He didn’t know what had been the powder keg that had kicked off your little rebellion, but whatever it was, all his attempts to nip it in the bud had made you more temperamental. Clearly his irritation with your behavior had seeped into his mind enough to create some… darker fantasies deep in his sleeping subconscious.
He shook his head. It was just a dream. It didn’t mean anything.
Besides, he already had been thinking about what to do next, to give you that little push you needed to be more agreeable.
---
Later that day he scoffed at how ridiculous his own morbid imagination was. The idea of you dressed all pimped up like one of Valentino’s whores. You barely got out of bed nowadays. If he was being honest, your imprisonment had caused your mood to swing between defiant temper tantrums and a hopelessly depressed sloth. Today, you were in the latter mood, still in pajamas that he swore you were wearing two days ago, lying on the couch and mindlessly eating as you watched some random reality show.
“Hello there, beautiful,” he said, trying to sound pleasant, “Looks like you’ve had a relaxing day.”
You glance at him for a second before looking back at the television. The blanket is pulled tighter around you, as if you were trying to hide any inch of yourself from him. Ever since his last attempt at showing his affection had ended in you headbutting him – hard – you had been particularly prickly at even the slightest hint that he might want to touch you.
“What do you want, asshole?” you said, voice lacking emotion.
Charming as always.
“Well, dearest, I was thinking. Now that you’ve had some time to think things over, I was hoping we could finally come to an agreement that would make us both happy,” he said.
“I highly doubt that’s possible,” you said.
He sat beside you, which caused you to curl your legs in tighter. You inch up on the arm a little, as if to sit as far away from him as possible without having to actually put any effort into getting up.
“We both have something that the other person wants, something that could be easily settled with a written contract,” Vox said, “You would like to be allowed to roam around this cesspool of a city and I-”
“Let me guess, it includes a whole paragraph about me never leaving your sight as well as a clause about how often you get to stick yourself in my various orifices?” you grumbled.
“You’re so melodramatic sometimes,” he said, “You always assuming the worst about people, F/N. Makes me wonder if you were double crossed a lot in your previous life.”
You don’t even respond to this, just continue to stare ahead. He’d noticed that lately you’ve been avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure how much you had figured out about his abilities, but you seemed to have pieced enough together that the more you avoided his eyes, the less direct influence he had on you at the moment. He was sure that it was one of the many reasons you were so moody lately; you stubbornly refused to be soothed by him. Regardless, whether you were trying to avoid his hypnotic gaze or not, it’s no matter. It’s not like you’re going to be able to avoid the overall influence he has over this city, especially if you spend your free time watching television he’s created.
“It’s rather tame, considering the situation you’re in. Contract or not, it’s not like you’re going to be going anywhere anytime soon,” he continued, “You’re lucky I care for you as much as I do, trying to work with you like this.”
“Hooray for me,” you said.
You really were a brat sometimes. Vox at times wondered if it was because he was too soft on you, and you didn’t realize the amount of actual power he held over you. Either that or you just didn’t care anymore. Whatever. It was all big talk because at the end of the day, you both knew you couldn’t do anything about your situation.
“You already have lots of benefits, which you would retain. Nice apartment, clothes, up to date tech. Besides that, you can come and go regularly, as long as you’re back here within twenty-four from when you last left. You can do whatever you want during that time. You also would be working for me a minimum of forty hours a week, with the occasional granted vacation at my discretion. That’s pretty much it, along with you occasionally being cooperative with my… desires,” he said, “So you’d have plenty of time to yourself. I didn’t put in anything that would force you to do anything too unsavory with me.”
Though he certainly would have liked to be more pushy in that department, he knew going too far could result in the kind of hate fueled relationship Valentino and Angel Dust shared. He honestly didn’t have the energy to have that much drama in his own life. Good night, he could hardly handle the drama that was in his life now. Besides, he was sure you’d come around willingly, even if it took a few centuries.
You glared at him as he finished speaking, as if to say, how generous of you.
From inside his vest, he pulls out the contract and holds it out to you.
“So, we have a deal?” he asked.
You sit up and take the paper, still avoiding his eyes. You seem to be reading it over, though your hold on it is lazy.
“… This still says you can fuck me at least once a week if you want to, or else I’m not allowed to leave the building,” you said, “Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice shit like that?”
He laughed a bit awkwardly.
“I mean, I did say I would like you to be at least a little cooperative,” he said, crossing his legs, “We could wait a little while if you’d like. I mean, you’d still have more freedom than you do now, even with that minuscule restriction. You should know by now that I’m a patient man.”
You stare at it again, forehead wrinkled.
“You know what… I see where you’re coming from,” you said, finally making eye contact, “Tic for tac, eh?”
“That’s a crude way for you to put it,” he said.
You shrug.
“Crude or not, it’s the truth,” you said, a sardonic smirk appearing on your face, “You want me to give a little to get a little.”
Before he could say anything you hold up your hands with more energy than he’s seen you have in days.
“No, no, no! I understand. I’ve been in hell long enough to know how people like you work. I get where you’re coming from, I really do. I’m not stupid! So trust me, I’m being completely serious when I say that I think you should take this lovely contract of yours and shove it up your glowing blue ass!” you ripped it in half on the last word, your smile still present but a nasty look in your eyes.
Vox felt his eye twitch as you continued to smirk at him, tossing the paper at him like you would throw trash across the room. You then lie back down and turn back to the TV, ignoring him again as if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened at all. Though you were attempting to pull your face back into the blank expression of earlier, he could see in your eyes a mixture of emotion, rage, yes, but also a certain smugness. What, did you really think you were tough shit for mouthing off to him like that?
He felt like his head was going to explode. Before he even registered how he was reacting, he had grabbed you by the hair and was pulled you back over.
“Ow! What the hell are you doing, Vox?” you yelled, the smug look gone from your eyes, “You’re hurting me!”
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? I’m trying to be generous to you because I actually like you, but you know what? I’ve clearly spoiled you rotten already!” he fumed.
He was practically seeing red as he dragged you over, causing you to yelp. You try to kick him, but he only grabs onto your ankle and pulls you closer to him, spinning you around so that you were pressed against the back of the couch, his arms on either side of you. His fingers are still gripping your hair, forcing you to turn your head towards him.
“You know, you’re right, who needs a contract?” he said, “I can do whatever the hell I want with you, and what are you going to do about it?”
Your voice cracked as you attempted to speak, but he didn’t pay any attention to what you were trying to say. He could feel his systems overloading with the amount of rage he was feeling, shouting over you.
“I hope you like the view from up here, because you’re staying here for the rest of your miserable eternal exist. You can work and live here 24/7,” he said, “Anything else we should change in the arrangement? You didn’t like the idea of fucking me once a week? Fine by me. Why not once a day? Twice a day? Every hour? Would you like that better? Huh? Answer me!”
As he finished speaking, he finally heard what you were saying, “-m sorry! I’m sorry, please, stop!
As he heard your pleading, he felt himself being brought back down to earth. While his rage was still present, your begging brought him back to reality, and it was finally registering how upset you were. Hysterical. Terrified. You were sobbing, more afraid of him than he had ever seen you, even on the worst days of your fighting.
“D-d-don’t hurt me. I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry! Please, don’t hurt me!”
He released your hair with a rapid exhale, and you automatically moved your head away from him, arms shielding your face. Shaking, it was sinking in just emotionally distraught you were, as well as the damage he had done to the couch. He hadn’t even noticed he had been digging his claws into the polyester, a row of gnashes beside your head. The situation was completely getting out of control. He pushed himself off of you and turned away. He didn’t even say anything, just left the room and went through the wires to his office. His head was overheating, and he was going to crash at this rate if he didn’t calm down.
Damn it! He hated how out of control you made him feel. It was pathetic. There was only one other person he could think of that made him get near as frustrated as he was feeling with you at the moment. He wasn’t the kind to act out, and here he was acting almost as ridiculous as his business partner did. The only saving grace was that Vox at least tried to keep his infatuation as quiet and private as possible.
It was more than his emotional irregularity though. The fact that he felt this way at all about you was humiliating. Affection, fondness, it was a weakness, and he knew it. Valentino got away with just having simple lust and taking what he wanted, but genuine affection demanded gentleness and tenderness. It was beyond him just not being able to do as he pleased with you, he didn’t want to. He wanted you to come to him willingly. It was the thing holding him back from just hypnotizing you into his arms or using a “love” potion, and now he had probably set any progress towards your affection back significantly.
He rubbed his forehead, which was starting to cool down a little. What was going on up there? He was going to end up doing something rash, something he regretted, if he didn’t get things under control and under control fast. Something needed to be done, but he didn’t know what. Nothing had gone how he had wanted it to. He would need to rethink his approach.
---
You spent a long time shaking on the couch, arms and blanket wrapped around you, crying. You were an idiot. Clearly your brain was turning to mush just sitting around the house all day. Did you actually think you’d be able to get away with speaking like that to an Overlord of Hell?
There had to be a way out of this place. Had to. But the more you thought about it, the more impossible it felt. Even if you did manage to get out of the building in one piece, Vox had this entire city under constant watch. Every corner of Pentagram City was crawling with his tech and media. It would take minutes if not seconds for him to find you and bring you back by force. At this point, maybe you should just sign a contract with the douchebag. Surely, he’d get bored of you eventually, right? Maybe if you got lucky he’d even get killed off one of these days in an extermination, and you’d be off the hook completely.
But how long would that take? Decades? A century or two? What if he never tired of you? Eternal death or not, you didn’t want to spend that much time living and sleeping with some psycho you hated. No. That wasn’t an option. You weren’t going to do that. But what then? You had thought he was going to literally rip your head off just a few minutes ago for telling him no. You were pretty sure things weren’t going to get less volatile around here if you kept rejecting him.
You wiped at your tear soaked face with a tissue and tossed it across the room. It’s light material just sent it floating to the ground though. It looked as pathetic as you felt.
“Damn it,” you cursed, smashing your head into a throw pillow and lying back down, “I hate this fucking place.”
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yoru-no-seiiki · 10 months
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VILLAIN! READER WITH A YAN! MASOCHISTIC! PROTAGONIST
tw/cw: DDNE, mentions of abuse, actual abuse (by reader), implied parental neglect. protagonist’s gender is whatever you want it to be. gn pronouns.
[ second part ]
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU.
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You wholeheartedly believed that you’d rule the world one day. The oracles deemed it so, and the rest followed. The only problem being is that you’d rule with an iron fist, causing the death of millions under your tyrannical reign. Many opposed your position as heir to the throne.
In comes the protagonist, your adopted sibling who is also destined for great things. The difference being is that they’ll gain it through defeating you.
Everyday is a murderfest with you trying to kill the kid but because of plot armor they’re resistant to any and all sorts of spells, weapons and even people you’ve hired.
Yan! Protagonist who had been abused their entire life saw this as just an act of love. Even moreso since you were so determined to hurt them everyday. It must mean you adored them does it not? They don’t understand why they’re not able to die or properly get hurt by you though, so at times they’ll even try to get in your way to make it easier.
But this just ends up with you hating them further and further.
As the two of you grow up, tactics start to become even more underhanded and deadly. You had lost all sense of empathy and kindness at this point. You had also halted trying to hide your attempts as your sibling clearly knew of it anyways.
But with your duties increasing as well, you are unable to execute much of your assassination attempts much less see your sibling directly. It came to the point of dull poisoning plots of which Yan! Protagonist had literally gained an immunity to with how frequent it was.
Yan! Protagonist never wanted to become ruler. A kingdom was far too much to manage and think about. All they wanted was to relax and be with you.
But with you being all busy and ignoring them. . . they simply can not stand idle and let this be!
And so they throw themselves into their studies. Those that doubted the Protagonist are now in awe of the way they picked up things in addition to their overflowing determination. They must really want to take you down.
Unbeknownst to them, they were simply doing this so you’d go back to giving them your attention.
Years after you’d officially taken the throne, they barged into castle. Thousands of troops behind them as they declared,
“Exalted sibling, I’ve come to take the burden of the throne from your hands!” The protagonist stood before you in all their glory. Magnificent as the scriptures had foretold. Absolutely befitting for the next in line for the throne. Blessed with a face sculpted by the gods.
You wanted nothing more rip it from their skull and watch the blood rain down on their regal clothing.
“You’ll have to take it from my cold, dead body.”
The protagonist froze in their tracks. Your words and pure confusion taking a while to settle in.
Wait, what?
. . . to be continued
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Anyways that’s just a smol part from one of my webtoon ideas i’ve been writing haha. It probably won’t be expanded on until I officially published that one and it’s like further down the list of webtoon order so oop-
©️ yoru.no.seiiki - yun | 2023
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featherandferns · 2 months
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orange juice (fic)
jj maybank x fem!reader | inspired by noah kahn's incredible music
content warning: mentions of drinking and drug use; mentions of abuse; mentions of bodily harm (vague, non-graphic); sexual content | feel free to message me with questions of detail if any of this concerns you before reading!
word count: 7.5k
blurb: in the most unlikely of settings, you and JJ reunite after five years apart in radio silence.
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“You know, on my way here, I saw a dead rat.”
A cloud of cigarette smoke dispels into the air.
“It was funny, you know? Cause I felt bad that it was dead, even though it was a rat. I mean, I knew nobody was going to miss it, and that it didn’t have any rat family or friends which would mourn it or anything. But still…It looked like it had been hit by a car, and it was only small so it didn’t look very old, and it seemed so harmless lying there. It probably had a million and one diseases, but just laying there, it seemed harmless. And it felt weird to be sad about this thing dying which would have only maybe caused more damage if it had stayed alive – nibbling through electrical wires and all that.”
JJ takes another drag of his cigarette as he digests the anecdote.
“Anyway. This just made me think of that,” you quietly finish before sinking back into the silence.
“Did you just compare my dad’s funeral to a dead rat?”
You clear your throat. JJ watches in his peripheral as you look down at your feet and fidget your fingers.
“Shit, I guess I did.”
His eyes cut ahead the moment yours seem to flick up.
“Can’t believe that’s the first thing I’ve said to you in years.”
JJ inhales and exhales the nicotine of his cigarette. “Well, I can.”
That makes you laugh. Small and sheltered.
“I weren’t sure that you were going to come,” JJ tells you.
“Could say the same thing to you,” you reply.
Sighing, he drops the cigarette and crushes it under the heel of his boot. He probably should have worn smarter shoes. But then, why would he? Waste of money and space in his truck. Not like his dad was going to see them anyway.
“I only decided yesterday. Practically drove all night.” As if reminding himself of the sleep deprivation, JJ lets out a yawn.
“How is it, being back in Kildare?” you wonder.
JJ shrugs. “Weird. But also not weird at all. I guess I just feel old. I was driving through town and everything looks different.”
“I mean, it has been five years.”
“Jesus,” JJ chuckles, shaking his head. Had it really been that long?
He shoves his hands in his pant pockets and finally finds the nerve to take you in. His eyes scan over you like one might survey potential damage to a car after a close call. He never lets them go below your waist though. As if losing nerve, he flicks them back up to your head and meets your eyes.
“You look well.”
“Thanks. Right back at ya,” you smile.
With that smile – sweet and simple – JJ finds himself being hurled back through time to his teen years. The reminiscing of his youth and the memories that your presence stirs up feels like reflecting on a past life. Something that he almost had, and something that he didn’t exactly lose, but something that changed.
Everything had changed, really. The streets that he used to drive down with his friends, running away from security and darting to and from keggers and house parties, they all had new homes, new paint, new families. Old mom-and-pop shops were now trendy smoothie spots and hippie bars. Empty plots of land that were a good spot to share a joint had now been bought and developed into stylish holiday rentals. None of JJ’s family was left here, not even his cousin. None of his friends were here anymore either. Well, except for you. Is that what you were to him? A friend?
“It was a nice service,” you say.
“Was it?”
For someone like Luke Maybank, ‘nice’ is probably a generous term for a funeral service that’s void of cheery anecdotes and tender memories. It’s a shame that all the memories JJ held in high regard of his father – of the moments that they were bonded and close – often came with the overarching theme of alcohol or drugs. He wasn’t sure there was ever a genuine moment shared between the two. Whatever praise and pride he gathered from his dad was short lived and sparse. When his dad left the island on the boat he stole, JJ never heard from him again. And now he never would.
“Did they ask if you wanted to say anything?”
“What’s there to say? He was a guy and he died in a bender. Short and simple, I guess.”
You nod and go silent once more.
JJ knows that his answer evaded the politeness markers of small talk, but it was true. Luke Maybank was a human who lived on this earth with no mark to be left apart from those which he laid on his own child. The only way that he’d be remembered was in the nightmares that still sometimes have JJ waking up in cold sweats and reaching for the box of cigarettes by his bed.
“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have come,” you say.
“No, it’s not…” JJ shakes his head and offers you a smile, but he knows it looks unnatural. He isn’t sure what he’s feeling right now. Perhaps everything, if that’s even possible. “I’m glad you came. I’m just tired and…well, you know.”
The funeral of my father.
“Right. Of course.”
He watches you tuck your hair behind your ears and glance towards the graves. He remembers how you used to do that when you were both younger. It was funny to him: you’d go through the fuss of trying your hair back in one way or another, but you’d always leave out a couple of strands. “To frame my face” you’d tell him, and then you’d precede to spend the rest of the day tucking your hair behind your ears. He liked it though. When you’d be concentrating on something, like surfing or fixing something up or writing, you’d lean forward and they’d come lose and hang over your pretty features. He’d want to mess with them; tuck them behind your ears for you. Sometimes he did. He remembers when you’d be on top of him, kissing him senseless, and they’d come lose and tickle his face. Somehow it would make the whole thing more sensual, with his laughs and your giggles.
He feels his face flush as the memories of nights like those creep back into his head. He shouldn’t think of you like that, not after all this time. Not with how things turned out. And especially not at his father’s funeral.
JJ had come over to you once his father was safely tucked away in the ground, six feet under. You’d attended the service at the church, hiding near the back, and then the burial, and as everybody else departed to give JJ ‘a moment’ (whatever the hell that meant), he’d turned to find you stood near a bench, lost in thought.
“It was nice of you to come,” JJ thanks.
“I’m surprised none of the others are here.”
“They don’t know. I sort of kept it close to the chest,” JJ admits. “I’m actually impressed by the turnout.”
You go to laugh and JJ sees you stifle it. It helps him ease up, smile a real smile for a second, as wicked as that sounds.
“People have layers, I guess.”
“Not my dad.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
You meet his gaze again. Your eyes make it clear that you haven’t shed a tear and neither had JJ. He wasn’t sure if maybe that would come later, once the so-called shock had worn off. He doubted it though. And yet, there was a haze of sadness about him. Death is weird as a whole. The death of a parent like JJ’s, even weirder. Maybe it wasn’t just the funeral causing the sadness. Maybe it was you.
JJ makes a move to leave but before he can even shift his foot one whole step, you’re talking.
“Do you wanna come back to mine? We could catch up. I’m sure you’ve been doing all sorts since I last saw you. Maybe have a drink or two, for old times’ sake?”
“Oh, I don’t drink anymore.”
“Oh,” you say. A pause for thought, then, “well, I have orange juice.”
It’s a strange thing to offer in place of a bottle of beer or glass of wine. Most people would say a cup of coffee. But no - orange juice: that’s where your mind went. It makes JJ smile. It seems so on-par for you to offer him that.
“Okay. Sure. Orange juice sounds good.”
“Do you need a moment, before we leave?” you ask, glancing back over your shoulder to the gravesite of JJ’s deceased father.
The dirt atop of his plot is fresh and stark brown against the green grass. JJ stares a second. The groundkeeper is dusting some muck off the gravestone. The funeral director had offered him a fine granite with award winning chiselling, after recognising JJ from the articles of El Dorado and assuming some high-placed budget. JJ had opted for a simple thing though. Cheap and likely to be hard to read within half a decade. It’s what Luke deserved. Probably what he would have invested into JJ, if the roles were reversed.
“No, I don’t. We can go,” JJ says, voice vacant. He looks back to you. “I’ll drive.”
You don’t live in your childhood home anymore. The place that you’ve settled in is a small home in a sweet looking neighbourhood. In fact, it seems the only part of Kildare that feels familiar to JJ. The front garden is quaint but well kept, with trimmed grass and flower beds that clearly garner a lot of attention and care. The fence is in need of a lick of paint: the blue fading and peeling. A sticky note is attached to the door frame of the front door and it makes JJ smile. ‘Doorbell’s fucked – shout “ding dong” really loud’.
“This is a step up,” JJ says.
“Nice, right? My neighbour is a dick though. Always complaining that I leave my driveway light on in the middle of the night. As if I can even afford to that.”
JJ chuckles as he follows you inside. There’s an instant warm smell that hits him. JJ can’t seem to describe it in any other way than that it smells like you. The interior is safe and homely. The wallpaper and wooden floors pair nicely with the throw pillows and crystals and plants and flowers. Fairy lights are strung from end to end. A kitchen, open plan, feeds nicely into a sitting room. A dining table is tucked in the corner which seemingly functions more as a desk: books piled atop with sheets of paper strewn out. There’s a small corridor to the right and the walls are lined with framed pictures which JJ can’t make out from where he’s stood. He assumes it must lead to a bathroom and bedroom. It isn’t unlived in though. There’s a small pile of clothes which need ironing; they’re sat in a basket, next to the TV. Near the backdoor is an arts and crafts project of some kind strewn about on the floor in organised chaos, blocking the exit.
It's still early in the afternoon so you don’t bother flicking on a light, instead opting to soak in the last few hours of daylight before dusk. Kie used to compare you to a cat, basking in the sun and chasing the rays until there was none left to follow.
JJ closes the door behind him and leans against it.
“You can take your shoes off, if you want.”
“Alright,” he mumbles. He toes them off and kicks them to the side, amongst a pile of your own. He notices how there’s nobody else’s shoes there: just yours, and now his.
You pour out two glasses of orange juice and turn around, handing one to him. He takes it, lost in thought. It all feels surreal, stood here with you, after a five-year pause. When you go to the sofa to sit, he assumes he should follow. You sit on opposite ends. A part of him wonders why you haven’t stretched out your legs and dumped your feet in his lap. ‘These stink’, JJ jokes, poking your toes. You wiggle his fingers off. ‘Shut up, no they don’t.’ Force of habit: he always seems to get stuck on that past. Instead, you go to pull one of your legs up onto the sofa, and JJ flicks his eyes around the room another time. He sips his juice.
“So…” You start. “Any news?”
“Well, my dad died, so there’s that.”
You kick out your leg, aiming for his thigh. “Come on now. Be serious.”
“I am; you were at the funeral. Thought you might remember that,” JJ jokes.
Rolling your eyes mirthfully, you have a sip of your juice. The sun paints shapes on the coffee table, weaving through the thin curtains that line your window. It makes your skin glow, healthy and happy. He’s torn between staring at your face and remembering every detail of your features and avoiding you completely.
“When did you move in here? It’s nice.”
“About two years ago. Mom and dad are still at the old place. They’ve rented out my room though, for tourists and stuff.”
“That’s nice of them,” JJ snorts. “How’s your brother? Is he doing good?”
“He is. He’s at college actually. Graduates later this year.”
“The fuck? That’s so trippy,” JJ mumbles, almost to himself.
JJ can remember your brother as nothing more than a preteen, sulking around the house and begging for rides to soccer practice. Now he’s nearly got a whole ass degree. His eyes naturally fixate on the dining-table-come-desk in the corner.
“What do you do for work then?”
“I’m a teacher at Kildare high.”
Of course you are. JJ smiles, eyes still fixated on the table. It seems to prompt you to continue.
“It’s kinda weird sometimes cause some of the old farts still work there,” you say.
“Oh shit. Mr Rumble still there?” JJ asks, perking up a little, meeting your gaze.
You laugh. “Mr Rummel does still work there, yeah. Still likes to bring you up to me, actually.”
“Really? In what way?”
“Just likes to add the odd little ‘you remember when your boyfriend used to steal my stapler’ kinda things.”
JJ’s laugh is different this time. The word ‘boyfriend’ coming out of your mouth has his thoughts short circuiting. You glance down at your juice and swirl it around the cup.
“Anyway, it’s a pretty good gig. I like teaching, and I actually think I’m making a difference to some of these kids lives sometimes, which is sort of strange.”
“I bet you are. You were always good at helping people,” JJ tells you. Your smile turns soft.
“Thanks, JayJ.”
The nickname is like another sucker punch to the chest. JJ takes it like a champ. Washes it down with water; pretends there’s vodka in there somewhere.
“How are the others, then?” you ask. “How are they?”
“Good. Happy. John B and Sarah are expecting a kid soon.”
“Fuck off.”
“No joke,” JJ laughs. He leans back into the sofa, reclining in the soft throw pillows. It’s strange how easily relaxed he is in this new setting. “They’re debating between two names. Esmeralda or Eton.”
“No. Please God, tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish,” JJ snorts. “Not that I got much of a leg to stand on.”
“What do you mean?” you frown. You lean over and place your juice down on the coffee table.
“JJ? Kinda dumb name.” JJ has a sip of his own before mirroring your actions.
“Hardly. ‘John James’ is pretty proper sounding to me.”
“Meh.” JJ shrugs and props an arm up on the back of the sofa.
“What about Kie, and Pope?”
“Kie is on her environmentalist shit. Investing in rebuilding the coral and things. Pope is studying like crazy. Got a good job lined up too.”
“Only Pope would get a degree when he has literal gold in his savings,” you chuckle. “Didn’t you buy a shop too, or something?”
“A little surf shop with John B, yeah,” JJ nods, smiling proud. The surf shop is something that he would always take pride in. What felt like a pipedream was now his nine-to-five. “It’s doing real good, actually. We’re thinking about expanding.”
“Well, that’s good,” you say, nodding. The two of you lock eyes. Your smile holds steady. “I’m happy for you, JJ. Really.”
“Thanks,” he says. “I’m glad you’re doing good, too.”
And now the polite small talk is over and the catch-up is done. It’s so bizarre seeing someone again after so long. So many things in life have passed – relationships, jobs, fights, conversations, achievements, ailments – but when you finally come to sum it up, it only takes ten minutes. Going through a heartbreak lasts for months, but then a year later and the relationship is summed up in a sentence or two. Time doesn’t only heal, but it also shrinks. It seems to have shrunk whatever used to exist between yourself and JJ too, as you both sit, searching for things to talk about which avoid the dark and ugly. Things which avoid the obvious.
“Do you think you’ll stick around in Kildare for a bit?”
“I don’t know. I ain't really thought about it,” JJ admits. “I weren't even sure if I was gonna go to the funeral.”
“Where are you staying tonight?” you wonder.
He laughs to himself and shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea. Probably just crash in my truck.”
“You’re loaded as fuck and you’re gonna crash in your truck?” you laugh. It isn’t mean when you say it. Just amused.  
“I don’t know. You don’t really get used to having money when you grew up without it. I still feel guilty buying a new pair of boots or something when my old ones ain't coming apart at the soles and shit.”
You nod. “That makes sense. Eminem had a similar thing.”
“Yeah, I’ve always thought me and Eminem were similar,” JJ deadpans.
It seems to strike well with you because you’re cracking up, laughing like he’s just told the best joke you’ve ever heard. He smiles. He always liked making you laugh. You have a horrendous laugh: truly awful. Cats in a bag being bashed against the wall-howling dog parade level of terrible. JJ loved it though. He used to tickle you just to hear it. Watching you now, head titled back, eyes shut and mouth agape, guffawing like a damn hyena…He feels like throwing up.
“Sorry, that…That was good,” you chuckle, wiping your eyes and catching your breath. “You were always good at making me laugh.”
“Fuck knows why,” JJ chuckles.
“Cause you’re funny,” you reply, as if its obvious. “You were always funny.”
It’s strange how the tone of the conversation rises and falls like a mountain range the longer the two of you sit on the sofa.
Your smile turns sombre, like when someone reminisces over a funny memory of their dead pet. Nice at first, amused, and then dampened with the reminder that those times have passed.
“It’s weird, to be honest. You’re so different now but you’re also still JJ.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. You glance around the room for a moment, as if you’d find the answer hidden in code on the spine of the books stacked on the windowsill. You look at him again. “Your face looks different.”
“It does?” JJ asks. He lifts a hand and strokes his jaw. He could do with a shave, he supposes. The vanity tries to bite through to ask how, but before he can, you’re talking again.
“You don’t drink,” you add, nodding to the orange juice still sat on the coffee table. “You’re quieter. Less…”
You seem to lose the words and so you gesture with your hands. Explosion.
“Calmer. Sadder, but not sad.”
“I can’t tell if these are good things or not,” JJ says, half-joking.
“You look at me different too.”
That makes him pause. He meets your eyes and holds your gaze, steady. The whole room shifts in a moment, from carefree catch-up to tense confrontation.
“Different?”
“Yeah. You look at me different.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” JJ mutters, going to reach for his drink.
“Yes, you do, JJ.”
Your smile is gone now. He can tell, catching it from his peripheral. Suddenly he doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want to be in Kildare, doesn’t want to be in this house, in this room.
“You could at least acknowledge it, you know?”
“I don’t understand—”
“It’s actually more rude to not acknowledge it,” you snip.
“I’m not being rude, I’m just making conversation. You’re the one who’s got me on blast like you’re some God damn therapist,” JJ hits back, meeting your steely stare.
“You feel like you’re on blast?”
“I feel like I’m being observed, that’s for fucking sure.”
“Maybe you are. Maybe you are being observed, JJ,” you return, voice harsh and cutting like how a blade slices through paper. “Because it’s fucking weird having you back.”
“You’re the one that invited me here.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” you say.
JJ takes a breath and closes his eyes. The anger never went away, despite what you’ve just told him, he just got older. Got better at hiding it. Got enough money to try therapy. He takes another moment to breathe through it. Push it down his throat and back into his stomach and let it burn out in the acid.
“I’m sorry,” you quietly say. The venom is gone. “I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”
He isn’t sure why – can’t pinpoint a perfect reason behind it – but behind his eyelids, JJ feels tears swell. Feels his lips twitch like a child when they hit their funny bone. His next breath in is shaky.
“JJ?”
“Just…”
His voice cracks and he clears it, shaking his head. He wants to open his eyes but he’s scared he’ll start crying, and he’s not doing that, not right now, not today. It’s not even you. You’d seen him cry before. Held him through it and patched him up; made him smile after the sadness. But he refuses to cry today because he can’t give his dad that satisfaction, even if it’s not about him. Opening his eyes, no tears escape. He reaches for the juice and downs it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” he snaps. Then, softer, “please.”
You nod. There’s a quiet. Then, you move to stand and he closes his eyes again because it’s a struggle for you to stand. It’s a struggle. He rubs a hand over his mouth as if trying to shove the welling emotions back inside. There’s the sound of running water in the background as JJ tries to gather himself. The crack-crack-crack of a gas stove turning on and then the clink of metal on metal. You’ve put the kettle on, boiling water. There’s the tinker of porcelain mugs being taken off a stand. He seems to zone in on the peaceful sounds of you making coffee.
When you pour water into the mugs, he remembers the sound of your voice years back. ‘Did you know humans have the ability to hear the difference between hot and cold water being poured?’ ‘Why the fuck do you know that?’ ‘I don’t know. Just thought it was interesting.’
As the teaspoon repeatedly brushes against the inside of the cup as you stir in the instant coffee and milk, JJ finally feels all the emotions even out. As your footsteps make their way back over to him, you flick on the lamp by the front door. JJ opens his eyes to see you place a steaming cup of Joe in front of him on the coffee table. The mug is cute. It’s peach pink and says “I’m drinking tea instead of committing crimes” on the front in an innocent type-writer print.
“Cute mug.”
“Thanks. Thought of you.”
He silently laughs. You sit closer to him this time and your mug sits next to his. There’s no funny quote written across the paint. Then your hand is on his back, barely rubbing him, and it hits JJ that this is the first time you’ve touched him in five years.
“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry,” you tell him. “It ain’t my place to say any of that. Especially not today.”
“It’s true, though. That’s the kicker, ain’t it? That it’s true,” JJ replies.
He sighs and leans back, sitting upright once more. Your hand falls away and you clasp it in the other in your lap. He glances down and takes in your side profile. That stupid piece of hair has come lose again, fallen in your face. He distracts his twitching fingers by twisting one of his rings.
“I’m okay, you know,” you tell him. You look up and meet his eyes. Yours are damp with emotion, just like his were moments earlier. “I’m really okay.”
“You almost weren’t though.”
“Is that the problem? That I almost wasn’t?”
“It’s not the problem. You were never a problem.”
“I ain't mean it like that,” you tell him. You shake your head and JJ isn’t entirely sure why. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Am I the reason that you left Kildare?”
A bird calls outside and JJ seems to latch onto it like a lifeline. That question makes him feel stranded and scared. He wasn’t ready for it despite being fully prepared.
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I…It ain't that simple.”
“Can you explain it to me, maybe?” you wonder. There’s no wrath to your tone anymore – no vendetta against him. There’s just curiosity and care, and this wonderful tenderness that JJ always associated with you from day one, when you offered him your cap to keep his hair off his face.
“I didn’t like the person I was in Kildare.”
“Okay,” you quietly say.
“I didn’t like how I acted. I didn’t like how reckless I was, and how I didn’t care who got hurt in the process.”
“Like me?”
JJ swallows. He doesn’t tear his eyes from yours though. “Yeah. Like you.”
“Okay,” you repeat, quieter still, nodding.
“After El Dorado, coming back here, everything felt tainted. I just…I needed to escape it. My dad and my past and…And you. I couldn’t face it. I felt like I’d caused some freak accident and had gotten away, and then I'd come back to face the aftermath and I just couldn’t stomach it. I just ran.”
You nod.
“I just ran,” he hears himself repeat. “And I’m not proud of it. Of any of it.”
“Okay.”
“And I wanted to fix things, but I didn’t know how. Every time I thought of coming back to Kildare, or picking up the phone, or going on Instagram and finding you…I just got so fucking scared, like a stupid shithead kid. I was so scared of becoming the guy I was again.”
And, again, you nod. When he doesn’t continue, you fill the space. “How long have you been sober?”
“The minute I left Kildare.”
“Fuck.”
“Cold turkey. It sucked ass. It still does. You don’t miss it any less. I miss the rage too, sometimes. I miss my dad sometimes, too. Miss him beating on me. How fucked up is that? That I miss him beating on me?”
You don’t seem to know what to say to that. You just look down at the coffee mugs and watch how the steam is slowly but surely going away.
“I am sorry. I know that ain't worth anything, but I am sorry.”
“It is worth something.” You clear your throat, voice coming out stronger when you say, “It’s worth everything.”
Your smile comes back, timid and tiny. You meet eyes for the millionth time that night.
“It feels like I’ve been ready for you to come back, for so long, and now you’re actually here and…I don’t even know where to start.” He watches your tongue dart out and wet your lips. “I wasn’t expecting you to look so good.”
“Disappointed?”
“Massively. I would have got my ass in the gym more if I knew it was a Goddamn competition.”
JJ smiles. “You were always a sore loser.”
“Says you,” you snort.
There’s another peak in the conversation after the long slug of the last dip. It’s so bizarre. So wonderfully bizarre.
“I’m proud of you, for getting sober. Do you feel better for it?”
“Depends.”
“Well, you look better for it,” you say.
“You’re drooling, I think,” JJ teases, reaching a finger out to prod your cheek.
Rolling your eyes, you mirthfully bat his hand away. “You’re hallucinating.”
“Well, withdrawal does crazy things,” he quips back.
You chuckle and shake your head. “I missed you like crazy.”
“I miss you too.”
Your lips part a little with that. Miss. You seem to hesitate to hold his gaze then, like it’s too intense. JJ feels as though he can see every emotion flash across your face in a second, like watching a car crash in slow motion. Surprise, shock, joy, anger, then sadness. It’s that sadness that hammers hard when you speak, voice weak.
“You left without saying anything, JJ. For five years. You just left me.”
“Don’t make it sound like that. Like I abandoned you.”
“But you did,” you whisper. The tears are back. You’ve both fallen from the top of the mountain. “You abandoned me.”
“You don’t get it,” JJ replies, voice suddenly thick.
“I was in it with you.”
“You didn’t see it,” JJ forces out. His tears are falling: they didn’t wait this time. “You didn’t see how it looked – how you looked. You looked so fucking fragile and tiny and small and your leg was so bent and twisted and black – it was black – and I thought you were already dead.”
Your breathing is shaky and broken. The two of you sit on your sofa in the sunset, eyes locked, tears streaming, chests heaving like you’ve run a marathon. The word ‘dead’ hangs in the air and haunts the room.
“I thought you were dead, and I thought it was because of me.”
“Do you hate me for it?”
“Why the fuck would I—”
“Because I didn’t die? Do you hate me for it?”
JJ blinks back his bewilderment. He physically shifts back in his seat, as if you just spat in his face. Horrified, he tells you, “Of course I don’t. Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because I’m still here, JJ. But you acted like I wasn’t for five years. You didn’t even come see me in the hospital. Didn’t sit with me in the ambulance. Hell, you can’t even look at my leg now! You think I didn’t notice? At the graveyard, and now. You think I can’t see it on your face?”
JJ whispers your name in a tearful plea. Stop.
“I’m still here, JJ. And I invited you back here, and I went to the funeral, because I wanted to see you.”
“To show me what I did?” JJ asks, harsher than needed.
You hold his gaze. “To show you I’m okay.”
He shakes his head, insistent. “It was my fault. If I hadn’t been drinking and if I’d been thinking straight, I would have never let you jump off the bike like that. It was fucking reckless and stupid and I would never, ever do it again. It was all my fault.”
“I don’t care who’s fault it was, JJ,” you whisper. Your hand reaches out and traces his cheek and jaw, and he can’t help but lean into your warm touch. There you sit, cradling his face as if he was the victim in this whole thing. It calms him almost immediately. “Nobody forced me on that bike. Nobody forced me to jump, not even you.”
“I shouldn’t have let you.”
“JJ,” you sigh.
He closes his eyes as you shift in your spot, and somehow you end up with your forehead pressed against his. He reaches out one of his hands for the other of yours that rests in your lap and he clenches it, tight. You’re both still crying but they’re silent tears now.
“I forgive you, JJ.”
He shakes his head whilst you nod.
“Yes, I do, I forgive you. I always have. You know why?”
He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move.
“Because you were dealt the shitest hand I’ve ever known and look who you are. You’re sober, and you're healthy, and you have loving friends and a steady income and a job which you love, and a boathouse, and so much of your life left. And you didn’t kill anyone. You didn’t kill me, JJ. You didn’t even lose me.”
“I don’t—”
“We’re more than our mistakes.”
When JJ opens his eyes, you pull back enough to let him meet your gaze. As if you know what he’s about to ask, you smile. That smile…JJ feels like he’s coming home.
“You’re more than your mistakes, JJ.”
The moment his lips slot against yours, tentative and hesitant, like a bird exploring new ground for the first time, he’s home. There’s hardly a moment of reluctance, of confusion and mismatch from the time passed, before you’re kissing him back. The softness of your lips against his and the brush of your tongue. The sigh in your voice and the tilt of your head. It’s so seamless and sweet and safe. JJ feels safe here, with you. He feels like all the shit doesn’t matter. He feels like sober might actually be synonymous with happiness, with you. When he lies you down on the sofa, JJ doesn’t want to leave this room, this house, or Kildare. He wants to stay here, worshipping you, breathing you in until you consume all of his senses, because after five years, nothing has made him feel as alive as this. As you.
Everything is a wonderful illusion of being rushed and well-paced all at once. He revels in the way your skin gives gently beneath the scrape of his teeth. When he sucks at your throat, the skin is so delicate, and this close to you JJ can smell nothing but your perfume. He wants to fucking drown in it.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he pants. You’re gasping too. Fingers sliding through his hair, down his sides, along his face.
“I missed you,” you whine.
And that phrase gets repeated over and over like a mantra or a prayer. He hears himself whispering it against your skin with every button he undoes on your blouse. Basks in the sound of your voice, older and mature but still you, as you say it whilst pushing his dress shirt off his shoulder.
There’s a stalling pause when his fingers finish tracing down your stomach to your pants. You seem to notice it. Your hand comes to his face and thumbs at his cheek. They’re still sticky from dried tears.
“JJ,” you whisper, coaxing his attention back to your face. You’re glowing. You’re happy, you’re healthy, and you’re here. “It’s okay.” Nodding, you repeat. “It’s okay.”
Then, he watches your own fingers land on the button of your pants, slowly undoing it. Then the other and the third until they’re lose. He watches you wriggle out of them, pulling them down, struggling somewhat from the tight position on the sofa. Watches the scars emerge, faint but clear, and how they grow and spread like ivy on the side of a house. They merge with the cellulite and stretch marks. With a random bruise you must’ve gotten from hitting your leg on the table the other day. They’re a part of you – plain and simple. At the knee, there’s the connection for your prosthetic right leg. Once your trousers are off, JJ finds himself reaching out to touch it. This thing that he was partly responsible for, this marvel of medicine, the reason you can walk. He loves it and hates it desperately all at once. Glancing back up to your face, you’re watching him just as carefully as he was watching you. But you’re smiling.
“You’re okay,” JJ finds himself saying quietly. Because you are. You’re here, laying almost bare before him, just like you had years before.
“It’s rude to make a girl wait, JJ,” you tease.
With that, JJ’s smile is blossoming back like the returning of spring flowers following a brutal winter. He leans forward and catches himself above you with his arms, kissing you like you’re all the oxygen in the world. Your left leg rubs at his calf, still covered by his trousers, and you giggle against his mouth.
“Fuck, I missed this,” you say. “I missed you.”
“How much?”
“So much,” you say.
“Oh yeah? What’d you miss?” JJ persists, kissing down your neck.
“Your mouth,” you say through a moan. His hands slip behind your back and unclasp your bra. You arch your back enough for him to tug it off.
“My mouth?” he wonders, breathing it against your skin. You’re practically writhing. JJ laughs. “What about my mouth?”
“Don’t be a jackass, JJ,” you mutter.
“You want my mouth?”
“Yes,” you quietly beg.
“You do?” he checks, kissing over your breast, sucking at your nipple. “Where do you want it?”
“You fucking know where,” you sigh, impatience shining through.
He grins at the sudden hitch of your moan as he softly nips at the sensitive skin around your nipple. Then he’s kissing down your stomach until finally his fingers hook into the sides of your panties. He slowly, tauntingly, pulls them down. You kick them off at the ankles, a clear act of frustration, and he bites back his laugh.
“What? Here?” JJ plants a kiss to your hipbone. “You want my mouth here? Or…”
Another kiss, to your pelvic bone.
“Here?”
“Fuck you, Maybank.”
“You wanna?”
“I swear to fucking God,” you huff, laughing through the annoyance.
With that, JJ settles himself between your legs and praises you like you deserve to be. The noises you make are downright evil, considering he can do nothing about it and has to hold it together. You taste so familiar on his tongue.
“Fucking missed you,” he groans against you.
When he sucks on your clit, your hands latch into his hair. Your back is arching and you’re gasping and panting and desperate, and JJ feels like a young God. Pulling back, he slips a finger into your hole and it welcomes him so easily. He cusses at how wet you are.
“Come on baby. Come on, I know you’re close.”
The tells of your body haven’t changed since the last time you two were in this position. The way your mouth hangs open in a silent moan when you fall over the edge is so surreal to see after five years apart. He feels you spasms around him and basks in the scratch of your nails against his scalp as you try to ground yourself. He hardly has time to suck his fingers clean before your pulling his mouth to yours and kissing him stupid.
“Fucking missed you,” you repeat against his mouth, making him laugh. “Nobody fucks me as good as you.”
“Jesus Christ, you can’t say shit like that,” JJ chuckles. “Won’t last.”
“Don’t care,” you say. “Only thing bigger than your ego is your dick.”
JJ can’t help but laugh at that. He loves your giggles in response. And then your hands are shoving at his trousers and the humour is gone, replaced with nothing but raw lust and desperation. There’s nothing performative about it, when the two of you hurry to strip his clothes away as soon as possible. He takes note to get his socks off. You’d always had a weird thing about it, sex in socks, and nothing was going to taint this night. Not after so long.
Being inside you…JJ missed it more than all the alcohol and weed in the world. Nothing compared to the feeling of you clenching around him. The vice of your leg hitched up and over his back as he grips into your thigh, mean and firm, perfecting the angle. The senseless, endless whines falling from your agape mouth, eyes closed tight, lost in the feeling of it. JJ wants nothing to be less than perfect for you, for this. Every stroke, every kiss, every clench of his fingers…it all has to be perfect. He knows when you’re close and he’s more than fucking relieved. It’s taking everything in him not to come. He needs you to fall over the edge first.
“Do the thing,” you whine. “Do the thing, John.”
With that, JJ remembers five years back, to late nights and later mornings spent rolling in bed with you. He bites into his lip, holding back his shit-eating grin as the memories flood back, and he leans forward to your ear. Gently taking the lobe within his teeth, he croons into the shell of your ear.
“That’s my good fucking girl.”
And finally, you fall apart, taking JJ with you like you always would.
When the high finally passes and the endorphins settle down, the two of you are laying on the sofa, only covered by a throw blanket JJ had dragged down from the back of the sofa. You’ve somehow shuffled so you’re laying mostly atop of him. His arms are locked around your damp stomach like a vice, nose nestled into your hair, just behind your ear, breathing you in with every inhale.
“Will you stay in Kildare, just for a short while? For me?”
JJ wants to laugh but he knows how wrong that would be in this moment. The humour doesn’t come from the question, but from the notion that he’d leave after finally having you back in his life, safe and happy, after five long years.
“Anything,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your hair. Anything for you.
-
“You look like shit by the way,” JJ says.
His hands are warm in his cargo pant pockets. Head tilted down and gaze steady, he sighs.
“Guess you didn’t have chance to clean up though, right?”
Shockingly, the gravestone says nothing back. Well, says nothing asides form Luke Maybank in barely legible font.
It still feels surreal, that his dad is gone. That they’d never remedy anything, or even attempt to fix their relationship. That JJ wouldn’t be able to face him and show him what he’d become. How he’d risen past it all and grown from the pain and the agony. That he’d taken the shitty hand that he was dealt and turned it into nothing but flushes and full houses. That he hadn’t grown into a petty criminal or a tax-evading lowlife, but a strong, good-willed, well-intentioned man. The thought, bittersweet at heart, makes him smile.
“I’m happy dad. I know you probably hate that, being dead and all, but I am.”
As if on cue, there’s the high pitch giggles from afar that catch JJ’s attention. He glances over to spot you and your wonderful mini-you, sitting on your shoulders, waving at him. He waves back, small and short, smiling.
“I’m glad you never met her,” JJ tells his dad, never tearing his eyes away from the pair of you. You ease her off your shoulders and take her hand, pointing to a small bed of daffodils. “I was so scared I’d be bad at this. I was so scared that I’d be like you.”
She’s so fragile as she picks a flower free from the bunch, holding it by the stem, up to you. You nod and presumably smile in approval.
“But I’ll never be like you. She’ll never know what it feels like to live in fear,” JJ states, firmly. He looks back down to the grave. “I’m not your mistakes, and I’m not mine.”
He lowers to a squat and wipes some of the dirt off the stone, revealing the dates. “Happy birthday, dad. You suck, and I hope you’re finally at peace.”
“Daddy, daddy…”
There’s an insistent tug at his jacket sleeve. JJ smiles and looks down at the best mistake he ever made. Mistake is a strong word. ‘Oops, I think is better’, you’d said when you first showed him the pregnancy test.
“What’s up, bub?”
“I found this flower. Can I give it to papa?”
JJ takes the daffodil and glances to the grave. A brief moment of anger passes over him like the breeze of winter. He doesn’t deserve this. He isn’t your papa. I’m glad he’s dead. But he closes his eyes and breathes. Your hand squeezing gently at his shoulder tells him you’re there. It helps ground him.
“Yeah, bub. I think that’d be nice,” he smiles, handing it back.
She giggles as she puts it on the grass just before the stone. Her laughter is brighter and louder still when JJ scoops her up as he stands, looping her around him until she’s a backpack.
“You wanna get ice cream?”
“Hell yeah,” you whoop.
“Hell yeah!” mini-you copies. JJ laughs.
“Alrighty, lets go.”
As the three of you make the small walk back to the car, you intertwine your fingers with JJ’s, holding his hand tight and secure. JJ takes one last glance back at the gravestone. It all began here, in a way, the re-introduction to a life he thought he’d lost. Perhaps the nicest thing JJ’s dad ever did, the kindest act he ever performed, was dying. Perhaps that was his way of paying him back for all the crap he gave.
“Hey.”
JJ glances down at you.
“You okay?”
He smiles. Then, he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
Everything is going to be okay.
343 notes · View notes
ozzgin · 8 months
Note
Also I love your blogs sorry I’ve been spamming 🩷Hii Author, could you do another part for the small prehistoric reader, where she is actually really strong even though she’s small and innocent looking like stronger than Yujiro and Baki but she’s only really like that when she’s in heat. I wonder how the would react Yk 🤔
Sure! It’s been suggested in the comments as well and it does have a fun twist to it. Female characters stronger than the main cast is the one uncanonical construct that I deeply enjoy.
Baki Characters x Prehistoric! Small Reader Headcanons (II)
Featuring the Baki characters and a prehistoric but small sized reader that turns out to be unexpectedly strong.
[Baki Masterlist] [Part I]
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The fighters keep a respectable distance from you in order to assure Pickle of your safety. They’d rather not pose as a threat to his mate, especially after seeing how protective he can get. He always keeps you under his watchful gaze, ready to interfere if you need to make use of his strength. At times he’s particularly anxious around you. Professor Payne has explained in more scientifically appropriate terms that you might be dealing with female specific issues. No one pressed it further.
This peaceful resolve does not sit well with Yuujirou. How very pathetic and boring that everyone concomitantly agreed to mind their own business. He itches for a little bit of action and what better way to rile up the prehistoric warrior than messing with his little protégé? He doesn’t want to risk fighting a half-assed Pickle, he wants the wrath, the readiness to kill. So with arrogant mockery he decides to give you a little nudge in front of everyone. Just a mere push, he does show mercy to weaklings like you. Baki is enraged and the other men join him. Everyone is waiting for Pickle to make his move, though bizarrely enough he just stands there, eyes wise in shock. Yuujirou didn’t expect this lack of reaction.
The Ogre is a man with battle experience and nothing can take him by surprise. It is to be noted, however, that sometimes a trade off for the sake of efficiency has to be made. A rational agent in artificial intelligence may have to take millions of variables into consideration in order to compute the most optimal solution and react to the environment. Realistically speaking, therefore, some less probable events are taken entirely out of the equation. So, for example, the idea that you would attack Yuujirou was not something his body expected to react against. The impact of your small fist was doubled by this element of surprise. His eyes roll back and his large body is thrown at quite the distance, leaving significant damage behind.
There’s a deafening silence that lingers for what seems an eternity. Baki feels a mild discomfort on the walls of his throat and he realizes his mouth has been hanging open for long enough that it almost dried up. Did you…did you just knock his father out with one single hit? He slowly turns his head to the other witnesses, wondering if this is a dream and the others will confirm it. Judging by the equally dumbfounded expressions surrounding him, he suspects fearfully that it is, in fact, something that just happened. Jack feels like he’s been kicked in the crotch. Katsumi is overwhelmed by a certain nostalgia, the nervousness he felt when he was a little child attending the Dojo for the very first time. Retsu purses his lips as a solemn frown creases his features. Tokugawa can feel the beads of sweat gathering in the folds of his wrinkled forehead.
The least impressed of the group is Pickle. Almost as if he expected it to happen, he walks up to you and grabs your shoulders before you can approach Yuujirou’s passed out body. Your face relaxes once again and you look up to him with a genuine smile, as if soothing his worries. You’ll stop here, no worries. You pat his large hands and turn around, prepared to leave the scene.
The frightful question now plagues the fighters within the arena: was Pickle protecting you from them, or has it been the other way round all along?
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basicinstnct · 7 months
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spoonfed / suguru geto
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word count: 1,181
tags: yandere, drugged sex, non-consensual drug use, forced orgasm, bath sex, vomiting, implied kidnapping, aphrodisiacs, established relationship (LOL)
a/n: “have you ever read sharp objects?” me:
summary: After a night spent at Suguru's, you find yourself in poor health.
It’s all very funny, mostly. You’d felt anxious, but fine going to sleep last night. Then when you woke up, the first thing you did was run for the bathroom. You’d hoped sheepishly to return to bed unnoticed, but naturally when you walked back into the bedroom Suguru was awake, waiting with a glass of water for you.
You’d tried to play it off, but then you threw up again, and again. After, Suguru held you close, told you not to hide your whimpers. He said something then, almost blurted it like he couldn’t help himself.
“I guess you won’t be able to make that work trip.”
That was right, wasn’t it? You’d had a trip, one you were supposed to leave for today, but you didn’t have one anymore, it seemed. Suguru had slid out of bed for a moment, grabbing his cell, telling you there’s nothing to worry about, he’ll take care of it.
Now, you feel like a frail Victiorian child. It aches to stand, to breathe even. You’d hoped to find your clothes, to get out of Suguru’s place once you’d gained a bit of strength. You couldn’t imagine yourself willingly letting him see you like this in a million years, but now it’s happening and you’re hating every second of it. If you could only leave, you’d be able to take an extended break to recover, so you’d be at your best the next time you saw him, if he’d want to see you again. 
“You should get back into bed.” You hadn’t even noticed his arrival, which wasn’t surprising. However, instead of being amused, you feel pure dread.
“Um, thanks,” you find yourself trailing off. Has it ever been this hard to put one word in front of the other? “Actually though, I should probably go home. I’ve been here too long and… I don’t want to get you sick.”
“I’ll be fine,” Suguru sighs. He seems to glide across the room until he’s right in front of you, wrapping cold hands around your arms to fold you back into his sheets. You were shaking in the frigid air of your boyfriend’s bedroom but swallowed in fabric you suddenly start to burn. It’s not long before you’re hurling yourself over the side of the bed, desperate to preserve some measure of self control, of decency.
There’s already a trashcan there for you, and Suguru holds your hair back as you empty the contents of your stomach. It’s liquid and bits of apple. You’d been so weak he’d had to feed you himself, bits freshly chopped into small pieces. His hand on your shoulder, moving softly over and over on the same piece of skin.
“I feel sick,” you raise your head as much as you can, ashamed of your condition. It’s Suguru who grabs your chin, lifts your head so you can see his face (or so he can see yours). You find yourself surprised that he looks so… kind.
“Maybe the hospital–“
“Don’t be silly,” he says, smiling, “Like I would let anyone else take care of you. Now, into the tub.”
He carries you there, and against his chest, you can hear his heartbeat through his robe, feel it too. You think it’s racing, but it’s equally as possible that your sense of time is just distorted.
He says nothing as he strips your nightgown off you. It doesn’t even make you blush at this point, and he hums softly at your display of reliance. 
The water is hot, so much so that you panic and try to escape, but Suguru’s there to push your shoulders down. Instantly, you sink until the water is just below your breasts. Stagnant, waiting for his next move. 
He drops to his knees behind you, probably so you can’t see what he’s doing. It takes more effort than it should, but you turn your head. You’re barely able to see as he pulls out two capsules from what seems like nowhere, and inside are two yellow pills. You hold out your hand, but he gently pushes it away and holds the first one to your mouth. You don’t fight it, or the second one which comes moments later. Then, there’s another glass of water to drink. All the while, he strokes his other hand through your hair. You’re embarrassed that the gesture works to comfort you.
Suguru scrubs your flesh with a soft brush, using the soap you have at your place. You realize that he must have bought it for his. He washes your hair, your face. He treats you with care, but at the same time it feels a bit like a checklist. Once you’re done with one thing, he’s moving on to something else. Still, it’s all routine procedure, until he surprises you.
“Open your legs,” he tells you, and when it takes you too long to comply he does it himself. Then you feel his fingers cup you there. Suguru doesn’t move them; he only applies a bit of pressure you can barely manage. Precise like a surgeon’s hands.
“What are you doing!” You try to be stern but it comes out like a weak moan. You’re so overwhelmed by the illness, by shame of being like this in front of him, that the slightest bit of something pleasurable stuns you.
“Taking your temperature,” he says with no shame, and you’d never believe that’s really what he means to do. “You’re hot.”
“I bet,” you manage to mutter. When Suguru smiles, you realize your lip is trembling.
“In fact, I think I should cool you down.” 
He thumbs at your clit, kisses your neck. It takes barely that to wind you up. Quickly, you find yourself panting for him, out of breath doing nothing at all. You’re worried how reactive you’ll be if he makes you come, but Suguru isn’t scared to push you there. 
His fingers tease at you, stroking softly, but you whine as he presses harder on your clit and begins rubbing it with soft strokes. Your instinct is to writhe, to shake, but you feel too dizzy with pleasure for any of that.
“This is good, right?” you’re asked, like he doesn’t know. “It makes you feel better.” 
“Suguru,” you plead, but it falls on deaf ears.
He leads you towards your orgasm with commands, stay still even though you aren’t moving. Don’t fight, when you haven’t the strength to try. He tells you to kiss him, and you lean your head back to meet his lips. You feel his moan in your mouth, and he coaxes your tongue to touch his. The hand not working you holds your jaw so you’re stuck to him.
You come like that, with his fingers on your cunt. The feeling is hot and muffled. Suguru kisses you the entire time, whispering words in between. He tells you he’s being gentle for you, that it’s nothing you’ve haven’t taken before, probably a hundred times. He’s not wrong, but you still feel worse than ever when he finally opens you up and slips a finger inside.
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xoxoladyaz · 1 year
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It Hits Different This Time, Part 2
Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie x Steve Harrington
TW: Mentions of alcohol, drug abuse
QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that the last entry was so angst heavy, I promise this one provides some comfort! Eddie needed to take a big step here and he really, really does. Also, much love to everyone who commented, I've tagged you at the bottom of the post - let me know if anyone else would like to be notified of the next entry!
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five
It was another five days before Steve heard from Eddie. Another five torturous days of radio silence, only this time, there wasn’t anything online. No new articles were popping up saying he’d been spotted somewhere, no new TikToks of him meeting fans on the street. The rest of the band was MIA too; Steve had thought about sending Jeff a text to check-in but ultimately decided to wait another couple days. Robin had been texting with Chrissy, after all, and if something bad had gone down, she would know.
When Eddie did finally call, it wasn’t from a number that Steve recognized.
“I’m getting a call from Malibu.”
“Holy shit!” Robin sat up on the other end of the couch and shot him a look. “Okay, just breathe dingus, okay? It’s going to be okay, I’ll be here the whole time.” She squeezed his ankle comfortingly. “You can do this.”
Steve accepted the call with shaky hands and brought his phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hey Steve.”
He shut his eyes and swallowed, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Eddie.”
He heard Eddie let out a watery laugh across the line. “Do you, uh, have a minute?”
“Mmmm hmmm,” Steve hummed. He physically couldn’t get an actual word out. 
This was it. Eddie was leaving, he’d cheated, it was over – 
“I’m in rehab.”
Steve’s eyes shot open. “You’re what?”
Robin started rocking back and forth. “Turn it up!” She hissed, and Steve obliged, turning up his volume so she could just barely hear what was being said. (Was this a private conversation? Yes. Did Eddie know he’d probably immediately tell Robin everything? Also yes. 
Was this news big enough to warrant having Robin eavesdrop?
Absolutely yes.)
“Yeah, I’m, uh, at the Promises Treatment Center in Malibu,” Eddie continued. “We got back about five days ago and when I saw your note, I – 
“Look, Steve,” Eddie continued, and his voice was choked up, like he himself couldn’t speak, “I fucked up. I’ve fucked everything up. You are – you said in that note that you didn’t want me to give up on my dreams, and you’re right, making it big and getting famous for my music was my dream for literal years. Because I kept thinking “once I get a record out there,” “once I go on tour,” “once I win a Grammy,” “once I get a million dollars,” then I’d finally be happy. 
“But it turns out the only thing being famous has done is make me pretty fucking miserable,” Eddie let out a harsh laugh. “But I was so goddamn convinced that this was it, you know, that I’d accomplished my dreams so I must be happy that I started taking whatever I could get my fucking hands on to make me feel that way. The thing is drugs and the alcohol and the parties never made it fucking last. It just made every other second that I was in the public eye that much worse.
“But I’d still made it, you know? I felt like I didn’t deserve to feel this fucking miserable. And everyone back home was so fucking proud and I didn’t want to let them down - ” Eddie paused for a few moments to clear his throat before continuing. “I didn’t want to let you down. Because Eddie “The Freak” Munson didn’t deserve you, but maybe Eddie “The Rock Star” could.”
Steve can feel his own throat closing up and he can barely see Robin’s face, his eyes are watering that bad. “Baby,” he sobbed. “I wish you’d told me.”
“Me too,” Eddie sniffled across the line. “I didn’t though, I just kept self-medicating and ignoring it, because that’s always worked,” he huffed sarcastically. “But then - ” Eddie cut off again, and Steve can hear that he’s trying so hard to hold back his own sobs, “then I came home last week and realized that I’d missed our goddamn anniversary because I was too fucking high and that you were gone and I just – I called Jeff and I told him to get me on a plane out here because you – you, Steve Harrington, you are the best thing in my goddamn life. And the only dream I want to chase now is the one where we get married and adopt some kids and grow old together.”
“Eddie,” Steve sobbed out again, and he heard Eddie start to cry too, and then suddenly they were crying together, even from hundreds of miles away.
“So I’m gonna be here for the next six weeks,” Eddie finally continued, his voice still full of tears. “I’m, uh, meeting with a therapist for a few hours every day and working through my shit. I wanna be a guy who deserves good things, baby. I wanna be a guy who deserves you.”
“What – what about the band?” Steve sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. A handful of Kleenex appeared in front of him. Robin must have gotten up to grab them at some point. He shot her a thankful nod and patted at his eyes; Robin nodded back and did the same, her face flushed that bright shade of red that accompanied her own tears.
“Murray wrote a provision into our contract where if one of us checks into rehab, then the band is instantly put on a two-year, non-negotiable hiatus.”
“But – what about your momentum, the label kept talking about it?”
“The label can go fuck themselves” Eddie practically growled over the phone. “Who do you think hosted the party where I first got my hands on the hardcore stuff anyways?”
“Babe - ”
“Murray said he was going to look into some sort of contract termination so we can sign somewhere else. And even if we didn’t have that thing written into our contract, we probably would have gone on hiatus anyways, or worse. That – the last leg was rough. Gareth was just as fucked up as I was and Jeff was fucking pissed. He kept having to pull Gareth out of orgies and shit while babysitting Phil and I too.”
“Did,” Steve swallowed harshly, “did - ”
“No, baby, never,” Eddie declared quickly. “Even when I couldn’t fucking see straight, you were the only one I wanted to be with. I honestly don’t even know who we were partying with at the end there, the label sent them for some PR shit, I don’t know. It’s just another reason why we want out.”
“Oh,” Steve murmured, “okay. Good. Or, well, not good. You know.”
“Yeah, baby, I do,” Eddie replied softly. 
They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to each other breathe. “I, uh,” Eddie started up again quietly, “I’m wearing the ring.”
“Yeah?” Steve found himself smiling despite the fresh tears welling up in his eyes.
“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice was just as choked up as before. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
“Eddie - ”
“Look, I know, I know I hurt you so, so badly and I’m never going to fucking forgive myself for what I did, but I – you’re everything I want, baby. If I had to give up Corroded Coffin tomorrow for you, I would do it in a heartbeat. And I – I know I can’t expect for you to just, like, forgive me after the shit I pulled, but – will you be there, when I get out? Can I – I want to come home to you,” Eddie finished, and Steve could hear that he was crying again.
Steve looked over at Robin, who was wiping more tears out of her own eyes. They looked at each other for a few moments.
It might be crazy, but I think I want to say yes.
I don't blame you. I mean, this is one hell of an apology, especially from Mr. “I’ll Never Need to Go to Rehab Ever.”
Yeah. And I love him.
And you love him.
“I’ll be there,” Steve murmured reassuringly, and Eddie burst into a new wave of muffled sobs on the other end of the phone. “Just do what you need to do and come home when you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting for home.”
“At home?” Eddie’s voice broke on a whimper.
“At home. I’ll even clean the bathrooms and everything,” Steve joked, and Eddie let out a loud laugh despite the quiet sobs Steve could still hear. 
“Really? You’ll be there?”
“Yeah, Eddie. I’ll be there. We can get through this.”
“Together.”
“Together. Because I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.”
“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie let out an incredulous laugh again, “I love you so fucking much, baby. I’m going to marry the fuck out of you someday.”
“Save the sweet talk for when you get home, okay?” Steve could feel his heart settling in his chest, and whatever tears he’d had left to cry were all gone now. There was just the twinge of missing Eddie, but that would go away soon enough. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds.”
“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s answer was soft now. “So I, uh, get a couple hours to call people every day from one of the site’s phones. Can I keep calling you?”
“Please,” Steve heard Eddie exhale in relief. “Every day sounds perfect.”
“Good, good. I’ll have to, uh, use some of my time to talk to Wayne, but the rest of it is yours, baby. And Gareth, Jeff threw him into a different center too. His check-in was much less voluntary though.”
“Shit,” Steve winced. “Is there anything Robin or I can do to help?”
“Take Jeff and Chrissy out to a nice dinner and use the Amex,” Eddie snorted, causing Steve to laugh.
“Consider it done.”
“Good." Steve heard the sound of another voice behind Eddie. Eddie replied something Steve couldn't understand, but it was in the affirmative. "Doc says my time is up for today. My, uh, talk with Wayne took up a lot of time,” Eddie returned, and his voice trembled as he spoke. “But I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you in six weeks.”
“Yes you will.” Steve shut his eyes and imagined Eddie was standing right in front of him. Eddie with his riotous curls and holey graphic tees and tight jeans. Eddie with his rings on his fingers, with Steve’s ring on his finger. Eddie, standing across from him and smiling at him with that twinkle in his eye that had first caught Steve’s attention all those years ago. 
“I love you, Eds.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the other side.”
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linopls · 7 months
Text
kinktober day twenty-one
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lingerie jisung x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, sub!jisung, mentions of masturbation, non-penetrative fucking, unprotected 0.7k words
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jisung felt like his dick was about to explode. 
it wasn’t because you were laying in front of him in lacy and skimpy lingerie. or that you posed seductively, one leg crossed over the other and your back arched to perfectly display your ass. or that the top was so small that your breasts were spilling over the top. or that you were doing this in his bed, waiting for him to come home from the studio. it was the fact you were in his favorite color.
he now remembers you asking him, about a week ago, what his favorite color was. and when he responded and followed it up with why, you said: ‘no reason.’ this was the reason. 
this means that you bought this set recently, with the full intention of wearing it for him to see. this wasn’t something you wore with your past boyfriends or for your own leisure. you bought this for him and that made his dick throb.
“stop staring at me like that and come over here and touch me,” you purr.
jisung’s head is spinning, he can’t think straight. the only thought occupying his mind is that he needs to do is pull your panties to the side, stick his dick inside you, and probably set a world record for Fastest Male Orgasm in the history of forever. 
he slowly crawls onto the bed and overtop of your body, caging your head between his arms. you prop yourself up on your elbows to meet his face and press one experimental kiss to his soft lips. 
jisung short circuits. he moans at the simple, domestic act of you giving him the peck on the lips and he realizes how uncomfortable he is being restrained by his jeans. you notice too, swiftly undoing the button and zipper and pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his aching cock. 
“we can skip the beginning steps,” you whisper, rubbing your nose against his. “i’ve been touching myself with the thought of you seeing me like this for the past hour.”
jisung’s eyes roll back into his head and his cock leaks into the tight grip of your hand. he’s gone completely speechless, which is unlike him. usually he’s the one to make your head go numb and what nothing more to used by him, but now he gets it.
“please, y/n,” jisung whines before interlocking his lips with yours. its a passionate and lust filled kiss, spit dripping down your chin and teeth clashing as jisung ruts his hips down against the fabric of the lingerie. 
the scene is erotic and you can’t help but feel waves of arousal through your body as you watch jisung shamelessly thrust his begging cock against the lace. 
“you look so cute like this, ji,” you tease him between kisses.
“y/n, you’re so hot,” he cries.
“will you cum like this?” you ask, thrusting your hips up to meet his. “will you make a mess all over my pretty panties?”
you’ve never heard jisung make noises like this, he’s usually what you would call a groaner. deep and low moans directly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. but he’s whimpering and whining and burying his face into the crook of your neck, biting down on your soft skin.
“y/n, please can i? can i?” he begs, his sounds being muffled by the pillow and your shoulder.
“sungie, please cum,” you coo. “please make a mess all over me.”
with one last loud cry, jisung’s cock twitches and spills his release all over your bottom half. he quietly whimpers as he continues to thrust his hips through his orgasm. you wrap one of your arms around his shoulder and run your fingers through his hair, something he’s done millions of times to you, to calm him down. 
after a while, he stops moving his hips and just rests on top of your body. his breathing eventually slows and he can feel himself coming back to his senses. he lifts his head up to look you in the eyes and he smiles. 
“thank you, baby.” he places a soft kiss on your lips. “you’re so good to me.”
“anything for you, ji.” you smile.
jisung abruptly props himself up on his arms and hooks one of his fingers through the bottom of your panties and pulls them to the side. he lines himself up with your soaking wet entrance.
“now let me be good to you, baby.”
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i love writing for jisung, no reason he's just such a fun guy
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“You came.”
“As always, Harry Potter, your powers of observation astound,” the Dark Lord carps. “Care to explain why we’re both here?”
And there’s the million-dollar question. He hesitates for a moment, sticking his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting more. “You can feel it, yeah? Everything’s coming to a head.”
After staring for a few beats, Voldemort gives a terse nod.
Harry nods a couple times awkwardly in return, licking his dry lips. “So. We’re expected to fight, and at least one of us is meant to die.”
Voldemort tenses at his side. “If you intend to ask for mercy–”
“No, no,” Harry says, anxiously dragging a hand through his wild hair and leaving it even more of a mess. “I know there’s no middle ground, for either of us.”
His words catch in his throat, stuck in the anger and frustration and exhaustion of years of fighting and losing people with no real gain.
“But,” Voldemort prompts.
“But,” Harry agrees. “Have you ever ridden a Ferris wheel?”
Voldemort blinks and frowns at the apparent non-sequitur. He says, “I beg your pardon?” but the meaning is clearly ‘Are you mad?’
“Because I haven’t. My relatives,” and his voice breaks on the word because it’s only accurate in the most technical of senses. “Used to go to the local funfair every year. My cousin would always come back with candy apples and caramel corn and some gigantic plush animal he’d say he’d won.”
He smiles, but he can feel how ragged it is. “Fat chance, that. Guaranteed my uncle bought it for him.”
“Potter, what in Merlin’s name are you on about?” He’s apparently worn through Voldemort’s limited patience and the wizard is looking vaguely murderous.
“Right, sorry. Point is, I’ve never been, and I’m guessing you’ve never been to a funfair either. I doubt it was a priority at Wool’s.”
Voldemort’s wand appears in his hand and ‘vaguely’ has shifted quickly into ‘distinctly murderous.’
“Y’know, It’s funny what you fixate on when contemplating your mortality and what you’ll regret not having done when you die,” Harry continues quickly, trying to defuse the situation. “There are lots of things I haven’t done, and so many things I’ll miss. But I keep getting caught up on riding a bloody Ferris wheel, of all things.”
He’d considered asking his friends – he had. But it wouldn’t be new for Hermione, who’d had a pretty normal childhood, magic aside, and Ron wouldn’t get why it was important even once he’d wrapped his mind around the idea of a Ferris wheel. Ron had grown up with flying broomsticks, after all. 
“I thought about who else might understand why it meant something, and, well,” Harry huffs, shuffling his feet self-consciously. “Here you are.”
He refuses to look at Voldemort’s face – who knows what expression he’s wearing, but it’s probably derisive in the extreme – instead focusing on the Dark Lord’s wand in case he has to defend himself.
“You invited me to go to a fair with you,” Voldemort says levelly. “Because we’re going to battle to the death soon.”
Well, when he puts it like that.
(naïve melody)
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inthepeakymidwinter · 9 months
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Cigarettes, Gunpowder, and Whiskey (Thomas Shelby x Reader) (Smut)
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*This story is 18+ no minors interact* Summary: Thomas Shelby befriends his maid when he finds her taking books from his library. TW: Sex, Cigarettes, Alcohol Word Count: 4561 (Largest one yet!)
----------------------------------- It’s been the same routine for weeks. I finish up cleaning for the night at Mr. Shelby’s mansion. I pretend to say goodnight to the other housekeepers and then suddenly I’m sneaking myself into Thomas Shelby’s gigantic library. I hover over a million books trying to find the perfect escape from my dull life. My sunken, tired eyes don’t recognize that a man comes walking into the room followed by a puff of cigarette smoke. I turn my head and see Mr. Shelby himself in a long white sleeve Henley with black suspenders to match his black slacks. It finally hits me that I’ve been caught, and I am on the verge of fainting from anxiety. “Having fun?” He asks. I hold my breath as Mr. Shelby walks up and swiftly pulls the book from my hand to read the cover. “Not a good one” He stated.
“And if I happened to like that one?”  I questioned him with a cherry red blush spreading across my face.
“I’ve been aware since you started taking books Y/N…trust me when I say that you would find that one rather boring” He spoke low and soft whilst his thumb lightly caressed my cheek. I looked up at him in awe. If it had been anyone else, I’d probably kick them in the shins but there was something about Thomas Shelby that made me melt unlike anyone I’ve seen before. 
“So…you’re stalking me?” I inquired.
“Only when you’re stealing” He chuffed. “Fair enough…you have any recommendations Mr. Shelby?” I stared at his darkened blue eyes that paired so well with his short dark hair. In the dim lighting he still looked picture perfect, and it was unfair. 
“Quite a few” He licked his lips and walked towards different bookshelves, picking out certain books that piqued his interest.
Once he finished, he set about five books on his desk and went to fetch a whiskey from his mini bar. As he poured the drink I walked over to the desk and looked at the books on the desk. “These seem awfully long Mr. Shelby” I said as I picked through the different books.
=
“Well, you’ll be working here for a while, yes?” He prodded.
I nodded my head and flipped through a few pages of the first book I picked up…Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. A romance novel. “Romance?” I questioned.
“Something against it?” He implored.
“Not at all, I just…didn’t think you would be for it” I spoke softly.
“Neither for nor against it. It’s honest. It’s secretive, passionate. Loyalty seems to be a big theme” He said before walking over to me and pinning me up against the desk. I was practically sitting up on the desk trying to get my grip together as he leaned in and asked, “You think you’re loyal, Y/N?”
“I like to think so Mr. S-Shelby” I croaked. Thomas nodded his head and stepped back to sip his whiskey once more. Relieving me of the awful feeling of the wooden edge of the desk imprinting on my thighs.
“I’m sure you are… we’ll finish this another night” He claimed and walked out the door with his whiskey. Leaving me in a room full of books to read for the night. I felt like I could finally breathe. --------------
A few nights later, I found myself one night in my bed with one of the books Mr. Shelby suggested, Dracula. It had been keeping me busy for quite some time. I was engrossing myself further into the pages when the old housekeeping bell to my room was going off, ordering me to the kitchen quarters. I walked into the kitchen with my silk night gown on and a long-sleeved cardigan. I was so tired and could barely see in the dark. As I walked deeper into the kitchen, I spotted Mr. Shelby sitting at the kitchen nook with a glass of whiskey by his side.
“Mr. Shelby? Are you alright?” I turned the kitchen light on and walked towards him.  
“Never better…Which book tonight?” He questioned.
“Dracula this time” I said sheepishly.
“Didn’t think you’d be interested in that one…Read it to me?” He requested. I nodded at him with a smile and pointed to the library with a raised brow. He nodded and we both tried not to make the hardwood floors creak as we snuck to the library. I turned back around to face him and noticed a grin on his face.
“What is it” I asked. “I just never thought these books would make anyone this happy. I’ve had them for years and they have yet to be read by someone other than myself” He gushed. “They help me pass the time” I explained and began to get comfortable on the red couch in the library. I tried hard to find my spot without thinking about Thomas looking at me as I flipped through pages. He sat down on the couch beside me and pulled out a cigarette. I found my place and looked back at Thomas who happened to be eagerly awaiting my reading. His bottom lip tucked behind a front tooth as he looked back on me with anticipation. I was jealous his lip couldn’t be one of mine. I shied away from his gaze and focused back onto the book, trying hard not to corrupt my own reality.             "If that other fellow doesn't know his happiness, well, he'd better look for it soon, or he'll have to deal with me. Little girl, your honesty and pluck have made me a friend, and that's rarer than a lover, it's more selfish anyhow. My dear, I'm going to have a pretty lonely walk between this and Kingdom Come. Won't you give me one kiss? It'll be something to keep off the darkness now and then. You can, you know, if you like, for that other good fellow, or you could not love him, hasn't spoken yet."
I read to Thomas aloud with my heart racing. He knew something was up when I stopped reading, he gently put a finger under my chin and brought me to meet eyes with him. “Another romance” He spoke lowly.
“You have a pattern with books Mr. Shelby?” I inquired with a soft blush forming onto my cheeks.
“Only with you” He admitted. I bit my lip and went back into reading, trying not to analyze his words. I wanted more but didn’t like rejection. I preferred to keep my feelings below the surface as much as possible. We spent the rest of the night together reading further into the book and having moments to ourselves. Eventually both of us drank glasses of whiskey and got comfortable enough to be laying on one another. My head resting against his chest as I read, trying to keep my heart from pounding out of its chest. "We want no proofs. We ask none to believe us! This boy will some day know what a brave and gallant woman his mother is. Already he knows her sweetness and loving care. Later on he will understand how some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake.
JONATHAN HARKER”  I closed the book and sighed. Another ending. Another time I’m brought back to reality. I got up off of the couch and put the book away onto one of the large bookshelves. Thomas got up right behind me, getting closer as I continued to take a deep breath and marvel at all of the books around me. He placed his arms around my waist, wrapping himself against my small figure. My cheeks began to heat up.
“I think we can call it a night, don’t you?” He asked. I began to sink back into him and breathed in the smell of Thomas Shelby. Cigarette, gunpowder, and whiskey. A scent that is begging for death and yet so intoxicating to anyone near him. It grabs your attention like a lost puppy you see wandering a busy street. He let his right arm free and gently moved my hair back behind my shoulder. I had chills run up my spine. Thomas placed soft kisses against the crook of my neck. It all felt so natural, something I could get used to. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted you Ms. L/N” Thomas pressed up against me with his hand running up against my breast. I moaned lightly as he kissed up my neck, making me tilt my head to the opposite side.
“T-Thomas” I breathed out.  He caressed my right breast as he gently sucked and bit my neck. Driving me into an unexpecting madness. He spun me around smoothly so I faced him and brushed the hair out of my face, gently caressing my cheek afterward. I looked up at his sauntering blue eyes and bit my lip.
“Don’t do that” He ordered. I let go of my lip and was instantly met with his lips on mine.
I reciprocated his drunken kisses with welcoming lips. He held the back of my head, pushing it towards him more with every kiss, making sure he stayed in control. I fell right into him, and with it I felt a hardening in his pants. He broke the kiss to start taking his button up shirt off and with it he happened to lift up my silk white night gown. Thomas proceeded to kiss me, biting my lip as we’d break kisses to come up for air. He pressed my back up against the bookshelf. His hand slid up my thigh to meet my core over my embarrassing beige grandma underwear. I felt overwhelmed and completely unprepared. His hands guided themselves and rubbed against my clit in circles with the perfect amount of pressure. As Thomas played with me, he simultaneously licked and sucked sensitive spots on my neck that I didn’t know existed. I panted and whined as he kept going faster with each stroke. “I’m going to make you cum more than anyone else ever will” He growled. I moaned louder as he slid between my underwear and I got to feel his actual fingers on my pussy. It sent me into a spiral and I only craved more of him. His eyes grew wide as he heard me squeal. He stopped rubbing for a moment and placed his other hand over my mouth. “You have to stay quiet until I take you to the bedroom” Thomas ordered. I nodded my head, my core flooding as his hand stayed on my mouth. “Good girl” He praised and continued massaging my warmth.
It was a matter of minutes before he used his fingers so fiercely that I felt like I was about to explode. I rocked my hips against his hands, and I felt two of his large fingers slip into my vagina. I almost screamed in that moment, and my eyes squeezed shut. I was met again with the pressure of his hand upon my mouth and all I could do was moan into his hand as I felt his fingers plunged into me. “You like that my girl? You gonna cum, eh?” He asked me as he sped up his pace. I whined incessantly.  His two fingers curled inside of me, hitting my g spot as he kept plunging into me. I moaned harder with each pump of his fingers and felt like I was going to burst. “Cum for me baby girl” Thomas instructed. I felt his fingers thrust faster and my hips rocked up against them until I felt my body clench up around him. I opened my mouth as much as I could and whimpered. “Cum baby” He repeated. It took one more slam of his fingers for my back to arch and release juices against his fingers. I felt so weak and embarrassed, I refused to look up at him. Thomas slipped his fingers out of me and uncovered my mouth. He saw me looking down at the floor and took a thumb to my chin to lift my face up so I was forced to look at him. “You gonna taste yourself?” Thomas questioned my reddened face. He put the fingers that were just inside of me up to my mouth. “Open up” Thomas ordered with a stern voice. I opened my mouth wide and didn’t close it until his two fingers were touching the middle of my tongue. “Suck” He insisted, looking me dead in the eye as serious as possible. I made sure I sucked his fingers as deeply as possible, doing anything to please him. He bit his lip as I did my best to clean his fingers off. Thomas slid his fingers out of my mouth and licked his lips. “Your ass is coming to my bed” He spoke.
“Yes sir” I mumbled with a deep blush spread over my cheeks. Thomas lifted me up by the waist and threw me over his shoulder. I giggled as he walked out of the library and dropped me off in front of the giant staircase. “Go up, I’ll be there in a second” He insisted while giving me a light smack on my ass. I was flustered and embarrassed, feeling the anxiety from the possibility of one of the staff catching me with Mr. Shelby alone.
I walked up the stairs, trying my best not to make them creak. Once I was in the hallway, I noticed a door halfway shut and walked into the room that I hadn’t explored yet. There was a lamp that dimly lit the entire room. I spotted a huge king sized bed covered with pillows, two big dressers and even a large couch in the middle of the room. If this wasn’t Thomas’ room I’d be shocked. I stepped towards the couch and saw another door. The room had no lights on, and the door was once more halfway shut, so I decided to let myself in. I looked for a lightswitch beside the door and turned on the lights. It was a giant bathroom. A large, clawfoot bath tub and a shower besides it.  I smiled to myself, I hadn’t seen a bathtub this nice before. “You should get in” Thomas scared me with his presence. I jumped in my slippers and he fully saw this embarrassing moment. I looked at him with my hand over my heart and he started to smile. “Did I frighten you” He smirked, coming closer to wrap his arms around me. I nodded at him, fully embracing the way he enveloped me in his arms. “I brought us more to drink, do you want me to run you a bath?” He asked me.
“Sure” I agreed. He let go of me softly and began to prepare the water. Once the water began to run, Thomas excused himself out of the room to get some drinks and a towel for the bath. By the time the bath was halfway full I decided to shimmy off my silk nightgown and surprise him.
Thomas came back with a cigarette in his mouth and a glass of whiskey in hand. When he saw my nude body his cigarette fell out of his mouth. “Oh fuck me” He spoke and went after the cigarette that fell on the tiled floor. When he came back up, I gazed at him with a smile.
“Thank you for the whiskey” I smirked and stole the glass from his hand, taking a small sip before handing it back.
“Where have you been, Y/N” He put his hand against my face, stroking his thumb against my cheek. I looked up at him, biting my lip.
“All of the wrong places I suppose” I mumbled out. He ran his thumb across my bottom lip before stepping away, putting the cigarette out on the ashtray conveniently placed on his bathroom counter.
He placed the glass of whiskey down on the counter next to the ashtray, then turned back to me.
“I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you here, eh?” He promised, moving in closer to me. I nodded my head. “I’d like that” I croaked out. He leaned down, crashing his lips against mine for only a single time. Then placed kisses down my neck, onto my collarbone, and down towards my chest.
“You’re a fucking goddess” He hummed against my breast, then began to kiss my nipple and suck gently, swirling his tongue in circular motions. As he went to my other breast, I involuntarily let out a moan and that forced Thomas to look up at me with a smirk. He knew he was doing something right. I continued to whimper as he kissed and sucked on my other breast, but I soon became unprepared as he started kissing down my stomach. Soon ending his rampant kisses at the start of my pussy, I couldn’t bear to hold in another sound.  “You okay?” He asked me kindly. I looked down at him and his perfectly tousled black hair.
“More than okay” I let out. He nodded and continued with his playful schemes.
Slowly he licked my clit and I let out a high pitched whimper involuntarily. As he continued I got more used to the warm feeling of his tongue down on me. I let myself go into the pleasure of Thomas’ tongue and was riding a high that I had never felt before. He licked down my slit, diving into my entrance with his tongue, causing my legs to shutter. Thomas knew I was crumbling and immediately stopped what he was doing. I almost cried at his immediate stop until I saw his pitch black eyes come up from below me. He kissed me immediately and I met his lips with the same immense desire. He pushed me up against the counter behind us and slipped his tongue into my mouth playfully. I followed his movements, slowly dancing with his tongue against mine. Suddenly, I felt his hands against my ass and he swiftly lifted me up on top of the counter. He finished our kiss before spreading my legs with his hands and moving back down between my legs. I cried out as he continued lapping up my wetness, shortly finding myself in the same position I was in earlier. I tried to grasp his hair with my hands thinking he would slow down but that just made him hungrier for more.
“T-Thomas” I cried out but it was no use. I was close to orgasm and he wasn’t fighting me from the deep release. I felt my stomach tighten and knew I was a goner. As I moaned out louder, Thomas began to move his tongue left to right quickly, making me tighten up. “Thomas p-please” I cried again. His tongue was no match for me, and I felt myself cum as he kept licking me. I gasped as he kept licking. He wanted every ounce of juice for himself and all I could do was whimper and cry out to him. He licked my slit once more before looking at me. I was a lousy, panting, naked mess. “You tasted amazing” He licked his lips. “You kill me, Thomas Shelby” I shook my head and smiled. He smiled back at me and stood up. “Want a bath now?” He asked me with his hand out for me to hold. I nodded at him.
“If I can even stand” I giggled, making note of my shaking legs. “I got you, come here” Thomas scooped me up from the bathroom counter, lifting me bridal style and softly letting me down into the warm bath. “I don’t want to…but I’ll let you rest for a minute. I’ll be in the other room finishing up some papers from work. Just come out when your ready” Thomas spoke, giving me a kiss on the forehead and leaving me to be by myself. I didn’t expect Thomas Shelby to be so caring, or even so mature. Nobody has ever given me this amount of care after anything sexual. I lay back into the bathtub, sinking in down to my shoulders, properly relaxed. After a while in the bathtub, I noticed my legs stopped shaking and I was ready to settle down into bed. I popped up the drain for the bathtub and carefully lifted myself up from the bath, grabbing the towel hanging on a hook off the wall.
I wrapped myself and stepped out of the bath, turning off the bathroom lights and heading into the main bedroom. I saw Thomas at his desk, seriously glancing down at his papers with his rounded glasses on. “It’s not all just reading books all day is it?” I asked from the corner of the room. He turned around and looked at me with tired eyes.
“Unfortunately…come sit” He insisted and patted his lap. I nodded and walked up to his desk, I glanced at his paperwork. Tons of papers full of writing, about racehorses, financial audits, and taxes. It looked to complicated for me to make sense of, especially at this hour of the night. I sat on his lap and leaned against his chest. “I do a lot of horse races, and bets…I’m trying to make my family the first legitimate race business” He mumbled out.
“Well, trying is better than nothing” I murmured. He let out a “Hmm” and began to place one of his hands on my thigh as he read a paper in his other hand. The hand on my thigh moved up inch by inch. The further he read his paper the higher his hand went. Thomas turned the page of the paper and slid his hand up towards my pussy. I gasped softly, unprepared for him to want to touch me again. “You need me to fuck you on the bed, eh little one?” He asked me with a deep voice. I moaned out softly as he kept touching me. “You need to tell me baby” Thomas ordered. “Y-yes” I whimpered. “Say yes sir” He ordered again. Rubbing my clit softly, teasing the hell out of me. “Y-ye-yes sir” I struggled to speak as he kept stroking with a steady speed. “Good girl” He praised me before stopping his strokes and lifting me up off of his lap. Thomas removed my towel and stood up. He pointed to the bed and I walked over to it, letting my self sit on the edge. Thomas pushed me down gently and spread my legs. “You okay with another round?” He asked me gently. I nodded my head and saw his eyebrow raise. “What’d I tell you?” He asked. “Yes sir” I told him. Thomas nodded and leaned down, hovering his body over mine. He gave me a gentle kiss on the lips before sliding down towards my core once more. I held my breath as I knew what he was about to do. He kissed down my mound before slowly using his tongue against my folds. I grabbed. His hair once more and I cried out his name. He stopped his licking to grab my wrists and place them to my sides. He held down my hands as he kept licking and sucking on my clit. I was overstimulated and about to burst, but before I could I felt his hands release mine and he came up for air. “You ready for me?” He questioned me.  
“Y-yes sir” I moaned out, gazing deeply into his blue eyes.
“Good girl” He praised once more before unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants off, revealing an enormous bulge in his boxers. My eyes darted from his boxers to his eyes. “See something you like?” He smirked. I blushed hard and slid myself up in the bed. Adjusting my head to the pillow, trying to prepare myself for whatever he was about to put me through. He removed his boxers and sprung his large cock free. I looked back up to him again, but this time a bit apprehensive and he could sense it. “We’ll go slow okay?” He promised me. I nodded at him and he leaned down to kiss me gently on the lips. He smiled into this kiss and began to lock lips with mine. As he did this he also reached his hand down to rub my clit softly, making me buck my hips and squirm against his hardened bulge. He kissed me deeper with each stroke of his hand, slowly entering his tongue into my mouth and having to battle me for dominance. I began to moan into each kiss and with a random kiss he slid his hand away, using it to guide his cock slowly into my pussy. I nearly yelped as his thickness filled my entrance. He pushed further inside of me, giving me time to adjust to the size of him. I moaned more into his kisses until he pulled away to kiss my neck. “You’re so…tight, Y/N…fuck” He groaned as he thrusted into me. Suddenly the pain turned to pleasure and I welcomed every one of his thrusts.
“Th-Thomas…Pl-Please” I cried out as he increased his speed. His thrusts grew faster with each of my moans. I wanted him more than I ever thought I did. He kept steadying his pace, each thrust of his cock made my toes curl and suddenly I felt myself about to release.
“You gonna cum on my cock babygirl?” Thomas asked as he kept thrusting, speeding his thrusts up to match my cries.
“Y-Yes sir” I whined, feeling him bottom out into me.
“Cum for me, Y/N” He insisted as he kept his fast pace. I cried out in pleasure with each thrust. I couldn’t help but to give in to his massive size. My muscles clenched as he pulled out and pushed into me with his full size. I nearly died with his pace. My body started giving in to him, and as he thrusted one last time I came onto him. “Good girl” He kissed my neck and sucked hard, giving a hickey in the process. I panted as he kept going, but this time slowing down his pace. “You’re gonna make me cum, babygirl” He groaned and leaned down to kiss me. This time he bottomed out into me and picked up his pace, grunting with each thrust, I could tell he was close. “Fuck, Thomas” I whined and unintentionally clenched up around him. He grunted harder and bottomed out into me once more before quickly pulling out and spilling himself onto my stomach. His six pack clenched up as he went to stand up off of the bed. I looked at his abs and then back to him. He winked at me and walked towards the desk where my bath towel hung off of his office chair. As he returned, he wiped off his cum off my stomach and threw the towel on the floor.
“Get under the blankets now, princess…Get some rest. You need it” He insisted and kissed me one last time before lifting the blankets up and placing them over me. Thomas then slid into bed beside me and turned off the lamp. I could get used to the feeling of being in bed with this man.   “Goodnight Thomas” I mumbled before quickly drifting off to sleep with him up against me.
“Goodnight, Y/N” He answered, wrapping his arm over my abdomen and cuddling me tightly.
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planet-dusk · 1 year
Note
Imagine
Jeongin is your roommate, actually there was nothing between you two. But when it come to him wearing glasses, its just something else. It brings the dirtiest images of this situation. you cannot let this opportunity slip anymore; youre riding jeongin, praising him, kissing and nibbing on his skin. He is not understanding anything and dont know how it even started
-🤡
🏷️ fingering, oral (f) implied, mentions of perv!jeongin
with his glasses askew, his hair mussed and purple bruises decorating his collarbones jeongin’s a living vision of debauchery.  
you’re seated in his lap and he doesn’t know where to put his hands. your skirt has ridden up so high he can almost see your lace thong. he knows you’re wearing the black one with the little bow on the front; he’d watched you fish it out of the dryer earlier and had made a mental note to pocket it later. 
somewhere between then and now you’d come home from the club and pounced. it’d happened so fast jeongin’s brain is still struggling to catch up. it doesn’t help that most of his blood is rushing south. 
“these fucking glasses,” you mutter between sharp nips at his skin. it hurts more than he’d like but he doesn’t dare to stop you. doesn’t want you to even if he should know better. he can’t ruin things. not with you. 
“you’re drunk,” he protests weakly, “we shouldn’t —”
“shut up, i’ve only had three drinks,” you push at his shoulders. your strength surprises him. it also turns him on, which isn’t helping. neither are the words you utter next: 
“yang jeongin, listen to me. i need you to fuck me. right now.” 
never in a million years did he expect to hear those words coming from you. he stares at your face, searching it for any signs of trickery. this has to be a prank. it’s either that or he’s dreaming. 
“what about jisung?” 
jeongin’s not sure why he asks. he doesn’t give a shit about jisung. 
“what about who,” you scoff and roll your eyes. jisung is the guy you’d been dating for the past couple weeks. ‘dating’ is a big word; it’d been more fucking than dating, with very little room for any conversation. it probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway. “he left with minho’s sister.”
it all makes sense to him now. you’re horny, and jisung left you high and dry. jeongin pushes the bitter taste of being used as a rebound away and tentatively puts his hands on top of your bare thighs. this might be his only chance. 
“c’mon, innie, don’t be shy,” you giggle. why do you have to be so cute even when you’re teasing him? “i know you want me.” 
he lets his gaze drift from your eyes to your mouth. fuck, you have no idea how badly he wants you. 
“the walls are thin, y’know. i can hear you moaning my name at night.”
his eyes snap back up, feline eyes now wide and rounded, his ears turning the brightest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. you giggle again and grind your hips against his. jeongin’s so hard he’s sure he’s going to explode if you keep doing that. somehow the thought of you knowing about his little crush is more enticing than embarrassing. or maybe today’s the day he discovers he’s got a thing for humiliation. he realizes he doesn’t care. not when your skin is hot underneath his palms and you’re making the neediest little noises. 
“i need your fucking hands. the amount of times i’ve fantasized about these long fingers…” 
jeongin swallows hard. you’ve thought about him too? 
he tightens his grip on your thighs and his mouth finds yours easily. the kiss is hungry and eager, more teeth and tongue than necessary as you lick into his mouth like you want to devour him. the low moan he lets out only seems to spur you on. 
encouraged by your enthusiasm jeongin pushes your sodden underwear to the side and teases your slit with two fingers. he grins when he feels how soaked you are. “all this because of some glasses?”
you’re not laughing anymore, jaw going slack and eyes rolling back when he finds your clit. “down,” you tug at his shoulders and clamber off his lap. he lets you maneuver him into position, reclining on the couch with your thighs on both sides of his head. “the answer is you, you idiot. but you can keep the glasses on.”
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