#<- They become .... sex frenemies

[bumblingbabooshka]

Just watched 'Prophecy' and between this and the episode where he says they should celebrate that pagan ritual where people run around and coat themselves in oil - I'm sorry but Neelix would be so into the pon farr. That man fucks.

[ilostyou]

taylor kelly 🤝 leighton murray

tough snarky main character girlies with the softest of soft spots for the people they care about

[hoshigray]

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied fwb relationship - catching/awakening feelings - oral (m! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking - sex in a shared room; college dorms (alone) - cowgirl position on a chair - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, pretty, princess) - heavy depiction of a blowjob - cameos: Haibara and Ijichi - fluff + angst; misunderstandings - humor bc i'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: second part, let's goooo!! i loved ur support and comments from the first story, so hope y'all are excited for this part :DDD and ty so so so MUCH for 5.5k like??? i kiss you on cheek, every single on of you, hehehe~

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“If you’re not gonna help, then leave my dorm!”

“Ehhhh, hell no! It’s cold as fuck outside; you want me to freeze to death?”

“They’re…still going at it.”

“Yeah…give it a minute, and we’ll just go to the library without them?”

It’s coming down to the last week of January; university students are finally settling in with their new schedules and getting used to the groove of the spring semester. Or some run around trying to keep up with the new semesters and the change of weather already getting on people’s nerves, wanting nothing more than spring to come quickly.

Three weeks in, and you already have stuff to do, one of them being an argumentative presentation assigned by Professor Yaga in your Contemporary Issues class. You and three other people are tasked to find sources for a topic issue you find interesting and then present a discussion-based presentation on two sides of the topic (two people in favor and two people against).

Unfortunately, the groups were to be randomly assigned. Luckily, two friends you knew in the class, Haibara and Ijichi, were picked to work alongside you! However, the bad part was that another person you knew was assigned to work with you, and he happens to be the guy getting on your last nerves right now, sitting on your couch while clicking through the television channels with the remote. 

Your roommates weren’t home today. The club fair was occurring at the quad, so Mei Mei and Utahime had to go out and represent their clubs for the afternoon. Shoko is having an intense study session with Geto for an exam on the first of February, so they’re at the library now. 

That leaves you alone at your dorm, using this as a perfect opportunity to invite your group over to work on the project. 

“You can freeze your nuts off and become the next Jack Frost for all I care; if you’re not going to do your part of the work, get out!”

Well, minus you yelling at your partner, who clicks his teeth before turning to you. His round sunglasses shone from the light reflected from the living room windows.

Satoru Gojo was your number one nemesis within these campus grounds; this was a known fact to everyone, especially the other group members who nervously examined you two bicker. Being in the same space as him is enough to make you wish you could pull your hair out or put him in the nastiest headlock you could do. Worse, being assigned to the same group as him for your project almost made you want to rip your ears off. 

But you had to suck it up; at least you were the first group to start a presentation. Better now than worry about it later, right? 

“Pssh, fine, I’ll get up and—Oh! Wait, you guys have Digimon on Hulu? Ahhh, sick!” 

Nevertheless, you can’t say that when your supposed partner acts like a child glued to your TV screen instead of doing the work he promised to do. You grit your teeth with a twitching brow, “Why you…”

Across from the common area was the kitchen, where Haibara and Ijichi sat at the dining table. The two sophomores could do nothing but feel the tension between you and Gojo grow with every passing second, suffocating the younger duo. Haibara eyes Ijichi from across the table and whispers, “Wanna make a run for it now?”

The black-haired second-year didn’t reply, only a hurried nod before the two grabbed their coats and stuffed their laptops back into their backpacks. The sound of their zippers alerts your ears, turning to them to question, “Huh? Where are you two going?” 

Haibara takes it upon himself to deliver a half-lie as he zips up his jacket. “On second thought, Ijichi and I are thinking of taking the shuttle to the library to work instead.”

Huh? The library? Were they leaving because of the belligerence between you and Gojo? God, you hoped not. “Wait, you guys don’t have to do that. I already made you guys walk all this way here; it’d be rough to have you leave for somewhere else…”

Ijichi comes with the assist after putting the sling of his messenger bag around his shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/n. We found material from the library we could use as sources, so we’re heading up there to take some notes while they’re there.” 

“Yup!” Haibara exclaims in agreement, and the two walk past you to put on their shoes by the front door. “Maybe you guys can find sources of your own while we’re gone, and then we can converse and share what we found when we come back. Sounds good?” 

“I suppose so…” you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving to avoid being in the same room as you and Gojo. The guilt is hard to endure since you didn’t mean to make the younger boys uncomfortable. “See you guys, then.”

“Cya!” And with that, the door closes on their way out, leaving you and Gojo alone in your apartment. 

Well, this is just great; you’ve driven your group members and friends away and are now stuck with the nuisance of a partner who still keeps his attention on the television. It takes everything in your power not to pop a vein. But with one calm breath, you steady yourself and stand tall. 

You walk in front of the TV, blocking it from Gojo’s view. The white-haired boy throws his hands up in exasperation, but you couldn’t care less. “What’s the big idea?” He questions you as if he has a right to at this moment. 

You cross your arms across your chest with narrow eyes. “Haibara and Ijichi just left.”

“Uhh, yeah, I heard the door,” he maneuvers his body to try and see the children’s show blocked by your figure. “Doesn’t have to do with me—“

“It does have to do with you.” You interrupt him, taking two steps and bending to stare him down. Your face is a foot away from his. “You’re supposed to be here to work with Haibara on the ’no’ part of the argument while me and Ijichi do our part. You’ve only been here for thirty minutes, and the only thing you’ve done successfully is take off your shoes at the door and read your manga books on the couch. 

Gojo chuckles – oh, how you hated his laugh – as he puts his hands behind his head, spreading his long legs from their crossed form. “You heard them, no? They’re going to research on their own and then come back. Besides, you know I’m not one to start stuff right away. I’m a procrastinator, remember?”

“You’re annoying; that’s what you are.” You straighten up with a heavy sigh.  God, I wish Utahime and Shoko were here. They’d help me out with this white garbage…

“Ahhh, lighten up, Y/n. It’s not like the presentation is on Monday; we got until Friday to come up with everything.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, smartass. And you’re right: I do know you. And I know you tend to do things at the last fucking minute. But not this time!” You watch him try to put his feet up on the coffee table, and you quickly intervene by kicking them off. 

“Tch. Look, you knew what you were getting into being partnered with me. And relax; those two said they’ll be back to discuss the material later. They already left – nothing I can do about it.”

Your hands rest at your hips, tapping your foot with visible frustration. “Oh? And I wonder why they left in the first place, Gojo. Mind telling me how?”

He quirks up a brow with a smug grin — a telling sign that you’d get ticked off with whatever he’s about to say. “I don’t know, Y/n. Why not ask the nagging control freak talking to me right now, huh? Maybe their short height and angry temper are affecting the mood of those around them to be miserable like them.” 

You almost did it — your hands nearly gave into your intrusive thoughts and were about to lunge at the snow-haired guy’s neck to wring around like a rag doll. But you played it off with a clap, rubbing the palms together to distract your temporary violent thoughts.

You sucked your teeth and turned on your heel. “Forget it. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

He scoffs, “Good, maybe your tiny brain needs it to calm down.”

“Choke and die, Gojo!” You say down the hall, already at the door of your shared bedroom. Before slamming the door shut, Gojo’s patronizing laughter can be heard to your dismay. With gritted teeth, you march to your bed to throw yourself on the mattress. 

“Ughhh. That Satoru Gojo,” you curse his name under your breath as if he’d hear you through the walls. “So unserious…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

To be quite honest with himself, Gojo doesn’t necessarily hate you.

The white-haired boy lies on his side on Utahime’s bed, watching you nap. He did knock on the door – believe him, he did. He even gave you the good old ten-second rule, waiting for your response. But then you didn’t, which gave him the initiative to waltz in and see you in your slumber.

You slept so peacefully; your face at peace, and your faint snores were the only things his ears picked up on. It was as if your little nagging show from earlier was hard to comprehend when seeing your tranquil state in front of him. It used to be rare to see you like this. Keywords: used to be.

For the past two to three weeks, your relationship with Gojo has become more…intimate. Ever since he took your first kiss and drew your virgin curtains, the two of you have gotten a little closer than before — both platonically and physically. Something that Gojo never thought he’d experience with you, his tiny, cute frenemy. 

Gojo has known you since freshman year; you were two in the same enrichment group to prepare you to transition into college life. Personally, he wasn’t much for the program; he found it a waste of time, a mandatory prerequisite that he felt he didn’t need. He’s all about experience, wanting nothing more than to get on with his day, go to classes, hang with friends, and repeat. 

“Hello, my name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you all!”

And then came you, the person sitting across from him at the round table your group would always meet at. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enamored by you the second he saw you. Gojo rarely finds someone who could easily pull his eyes to them — not saying the girls who’d usually crowd and admire him weren’t pretty. There was something about you that kept him wanting to know more – to engage more – about you. 

One thing he knew from you was that you carried your character with pride. Your achievements, your personality, your kindness, and your mannerisms — all of which were displayed elegantly and were a breath of fresh air to look at. You stood out to him more than all the other kids in the group, his eyes always finding a way to steer from the professor’s advice to your alluring, listening face. 

Another thing Gojo liked about you was that you weren’t afraid to stand your ground, especially when discussing with your peers or him. Sure, you were always respectful and would respect other people’s arguments. But, God, the way you said things so constructed and nuanced, it had the tall other glued to you whenever you spoke.

He’s not going to lie; he’ll admit that he’d try to tick you off and get you to get a little angry with him when it came to arguing. He couldn’t help it. He just liked the thought of you layering out of your poised appearance to the point you’d glare at him whenever you saw him in the halls. And it had him giddy knowing he’s the one that made you angry because you looked cute. 

And that was the other thing he really liked about you. The more you two interacted, argued, hung out with his friends, or attended classes together, the more Gojo’s fascination for you turned into that of a school-boy crush. He wouldn’t admit to anyone of this (minus Geto and Shoko if his life depended on it) because it certainly wasn’t something to be known. He was okay with what you two had right now, being the friend who loves to push your buttons to see you nag at him. 

That was until you two started sleeping together. Because holy fuck, the past weeks you two have been sneaking time to have each other’s bodies close made Gojo’s mind go crazy. So fucking crazy like the feeling of you on him is borderline addicting. Your whiny cries calling out to him when he scrapes your sweet spots, your nails scrape on his chest, your half-lidded eyes when you look at him, or how you whisper his name only for him to hear.

This was the kind of relationship you two brewed, a secret thing only between you two. And Gojo was satisfied keeping it like this because it was what you wanted. No need to flaunt it around; it was no one’s business. Besides, he likes having you to himself, seeing a side of you that only he could imagine and experience.

The sensations of your body under his touch, the various tunes of your voice, and the beauty exhibited in your gaze. It was all addicting. You were addicting.

“Who told you to lie on my roommate’s bed? You know she’ll kill you if she ever saw you.” 

It was so addicting that he didn’t even notice you awake until you spoke to him, the erotic memories of you clouding his brain dissipating at the indication of your voice. He smirks, “Oh, I’ll be fine; not like she can hurt me with her tiny self.”

You’re too groggy to roll your eyes, sighing as you turn to your side to face him from across the room. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost an hour,” he replies, switching to sit criss-cross on Utahime’s bed. “I got bored watching TV and knocked.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Maybe twenty minutes?”

“Just watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Weirdo.”

He snickers at you for recognizing his silliness. “Whaaat? There’s not much to do aside from looking at you. I got bored of the TV.”

“What about your manga?”

“Got bored of that, too.”

“Anyone on your socials that you’d wanna talk to? Girls? Friends? Your teammates?”

“Mmm, nah, none I’d wanna talk to right now.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you mean ‘right now’? You make it seem like I’m keeping you from interacting with your outside life. If you’re bored, talk with whoever you want. Maybe bother Geto…No, nevermind, he’d probably be annoyed since he’s studying.”

Gojo examines you, silently removing himself from your roommate’s bed and treading towards yours. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on top of your dresser before sitting on his knees on the floor. He rests his hands and chin on the edge of your bed, his sky-blue eyes locked in with yours. God, you were so beautiful to look at. 

“I meant that I don’t want to talk to anybody.” Now that he’s closer to you, his voice dials to a whisper. “Not when I got you here to myself.”

He notices your brows drawing upward at the sentence. “To yourself?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, bringing a forefinger to trace your brow. A sensual touch not to startle you. “Just you and me.”

You give him a look as if you think he’s trying to pull something. “Don’t tell me you were making me mad at you earlier just so Haibara and Ijichi could leave, and I’d be stuck with you.”

His smile broadens with every word, his dimples out to see. “No, although I hate that I didn’t think of that myself.” His hand goes to your cheek for his thumb to stroke gently. “Would it have been a bad thing if I did?”

You don’t reply, only placing your hand on his. Your eyes are still on his blue orbs, and – you don’t know this because Gojo has the perfect view of you – the light from the window made them shine charmingly as it highlighted your face. 

“No…I don’t think so,” you murmur, gaze gradually venturing down to his lips. “I like being around you…Satoru.”

He heard his name leave your lips, an invitation to what he wants to do, his eyes fixated on your lips before closing them and drawing in closer. “Me too…”

The kiss was soft and gentle like he always starts with, waiting for you to give him the okay to kiss you again. And when you meekly lick his bottom lip, he gives in to your request and claims your lips again. 

Your moans were so sweet to his ears — his favorite thing to hear — especially when he becomes a little devilish and sucks on your tongue to make you whimper a little louder, turning him on even more. It serves as the perfect distraction for him to snake a hand into your shirt, his hand already making itself home and cupping your breast in your bra. 

You break the kiss with a gasp, and massages to your mound make your breath shaky. “Mmmah…you sneaky pervert,” you name-call him sweetly. 

“Can’t blame me; I just know that you like to have your tits played with.” Gojo sneers, tweaking your nipple to hear you gasp again. “Hey, remember you said you’d suck me off next time?”

“Huh?” The question threw you off before you could fall deeper into a euphoric haze. 

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you promised!” He whines to you like a hurt puppy. “After I ate you out for twenty minutes straight last time, can I just have your mouth on my dick once?”

“I never told you to eat me out for twenty minutes!”

“You crying and telling me not to stop said otherwise!” He stands his argument, even if you warn him with a glare. “Just suck it, please. I haven’t felt your mouth in a while.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t expect to deal with his childish tendencies, but it is Gojo we’re talking about. You sigh, “…Fine, Satoru.” And then the white-headed boy beamed at the confirmation, immediately standing up and heading to your desk. It was an abrupt change of pace for a second until he brought your desk chair out. 

With glee, Gojo flings his jeans and boxers with ease, his half-hard cock out for you to see. He sits on your chair with spread legs, “I’m ready~.”

You roll your eyes, yet the smile on your face sneaks without you knowing while leaving your bed and crouching between his legs. “You’re such a big baby sometimes…”

Your hand finds its way to the body of his dick, gliding it up and down to feel the veins under your palm and fingertips. Gojo hums to your cold fingers, hitching his breath when you tease him with a blow of air. 

Your free hand comes to his balls, massaging his testicles in a way that has his leg jerk. He tries to fight it, but the squirm on his legs says otherwise. “Hahhh, fuck…quit it…”

“Hmm? What, you don’t like it when I tease you?” You peer up at him with a smug grin before using your tongue to lick on the glans slowly, and he covers his mouth before a gasp comes out after lapping on his frenulum. “But when you do it to me, it’s not a problem, huh?”

“Mmmph, shiit, Y/n—Ohhh…!” Another jolt of the hips after you lick and kiss one of his balls, teasing the skin with a kiss and tiny chews that would have him choke on his breath. “Jesus, fuck! Y/n, baby, you’re driving me crazy….Aishhh!!

“Oh, really?” God, you were such a fucking tease. But he fucking loved that so much. “What should I do?” You ask him before sucking on his balls again, and a hand comes to your shoulder to grip. 

“Mmmm…Blow me off, princess,” shivers crawl up his spine as you place kisses from the base of his cock towards the tip. “Please, I wanna feel you…” 

You giggle at his reply, finally taking in his cockhead to your pretty lips and sighing through your nose as you hollow your cheeks to take in more of him. 

Gojo sighs at your licks and sucks on his girth, his erection becoming accommodated to your oral cavity wonderfully. You unhurriedly prompt yourself to take in more of him until your lips reach his pubes, your throat now full of him, and the warmness of your gummy walls makes him squirm more. 

Bobbing your head at a moderate pace, you suck him off to that of a pleasurable cadence. You still use your hands to stroke him, Gojo melting to your touch even more. He throws his head back when you attack his tip again with the onslaught of licks and laps, the hand on his balls roughly kneading them jerks him to moan aloud. 

Fuck, it feels so fucking good having you suck him off like this. How your tongue moved up and down on him was so dangerous, prompting him to place a hand on your head for support. As if that would help, you don’t show him mercy when you suck him harder and faster. The noises coming from your mouth sounded so erotic and pornographic, the heat on his face brewing out more. 

“—Khhmm, fuck, man, I can’t…Ahhh! Y/n, I’m gonna cum if you keep licking it like that. Stop, st—Ahhaaa!!” 

But like he said before – you’re a tease (if not worse than him). You remove Gojo’s dick from your mouth and throat at once, the groan he exerts fueling the fire in your body. You stand to withdraw your shirt, bra, and panties to the ground, knowing Gojo’s watching every move. “Don’t get mad at me; I know how much you wanna cum inside.” 

You pull out the condom from the pocket of your skirt, placing the rubber on his cock after removing it from the wrapper. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Seems like you’re more of a pervert than me if you had that ready while those two were here earlier.” 

“Shut up,” you playfully kiss him with a sneaky bite to his bottom lip. Then, you mount and align your cunt on his dick, the glans kissing your wet labia. “Hmmm, fuck…”

“Relax, cutie,” he kisses you on the cheek while his hands fondle your breasts. 

You slowly descend your slit onto him, the tip of his cock pushing into the entrance of your vagina. A couple of exhales and inhales keep you steady when inserting him into you, not letting the pain distract you from the task at hand. And the both of you moan in unison when it makes it in, your hips leisurely coming down on him until your ass rests on his thighs. 

You grind on him with the roll of your hips, evoking choked intakes of air from him as a hand goes to your ass with vigor. His face to your chest while the other hand plays with one mound. His lips found a nipple to pop into his mouth to suck on. 

With a slow pace, you rock your hips onto him. Your legs bent for your feet to be on his knees, the chair solid enough to withstand you bouncing on Gojo’s dick with repetition.  

“Hoohhh, ohhhh, mmmm,” your hums are expressed in tunes. The curve of his cock is so fucking good, scraping your insides with precision. You couldn’t help but increase the speed just a little bit. 

Gojo keeps sucking on your nipple; the grazes of his teeth and pushing the bud up to the roof of his mouth only fuels more quivers to travel down your bouncing figure. Both of his hands now under your skirt to feel the flesh of your ass under his hungry grasp. He kneads your asscheeks with every thrust to your chasm, and your shrieks get louder by the second. 

“—Mmmph! Shit, shit, you feel so good, pretty,” he finally lets go of your hardened nipple, burying his face to your chest. “So fucking good for me…fuhuuuucck!

You could feel your cunt contract around him; every graze to your sensitive spots prompted your walls to grip around him. He hisses, looking up to see your expression as you ride him out. Fuck, you looked so good on top of him like this. He’ll add this position to the list of things to do again with you.

You peer down to see that Gojo is staring at you, and you quickly bring a hand to cover his eyes. “—Ahhahhn, d-don’t look at me like that! Yer soo embarrassing…!” 

He only chuckles at your shy demeanor, especially during this. But he humors you, not fighting your makeshift blind for him to see you wholly. He’s seen it all already — felt it all, too. And he could never get enough. 

“Ooooh, Satoruuu—Nnaaahh!” He loves how you say his name, your hand traveling to his hair to grab in tuffs. “Oh, fuck, ‘toruuu, I’m gonna cummm…!”

“—Hnngh! Yeah, baby?” Oh, he knows. The way you’re grinding to and fro on his pelvis tells him so. “Go ahead, princess. Clench on me and ride it out.”

And with that, your hips go to an erratic pace that has the both of you holding for dear life. The squeeze of your inner walls clenching on him almost makes him choke on his spit, the nails of his fingertips forming crescents on your skin. And you scream at it, slamming your ass onto him as you both climb up to orgasm. 

Within seconds, it hits the both of you like a train. This had to be Gojo’s favorite part of the entire thing, experiencing having your folds clamp and flutter around him as you cry for him. It took everything in his power not to come with you because he wants to have you on him a little longer. You just felt too good to let go — too addicted to your body to be done with one round.

When the contractions subside while your slurred howls get quieter, Gojo gives you a few minutes to let your body be free from the aftershocks. He knows your body is extra sensitive now, rubbing circles on your back and placing chaste kisses on your clavicle. You hum under his lips, letting the wave of your crescendo exude out from you quietly. 

However, since you wanted to be such a tease, why not be a tease back? At least, that’s what Gojo thought before he threw your cunt another snap of the hips, his cock jabbing into your delicate walls that haven’t recovered yet. A sharp cry comes from your puffy lips, the hand covering Gojo’s eyes finally freeing him to see you. 

He grins with hooded azure eyes, “Sorry, cutie, but I didn’t get to finish. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t get to have fun of my own, right?” 

You chew on your lip with trenched brows before bringing your face to his. “Don’t you get carried away like last time, Satoru.”

“No promises, princess~” he sings to your ear before humming into your lips. 

As mentioned before, Gojo doesn’t hate you — he just hates that he can’t fully express liking you. 

But having you on top of him like this, in his embrace, is a nice change of pace he’ll happily get used to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Okay, everyone, class dismissed! Thank you for your time, and see you all on Friday.”

Professor Naga closes up the last class for today, and the students all get up from the seats of their elevated rows to pack up and leave. The clock is ten minutes before seven o’clock, the winter darkness already claiming the sky with a sheet of night. Students are either famished and heading to the dining hall for food, going straight to their dorms or homes, or staying behind for last-minute conversations.

Gojo was one of the latter, deciding to stay behind to chat with the group for a bit. After packing his backpack and putting on his coat, he slings from the table to jump to the row below him, where you were talking with Haibara and Ijichi. 

You watch his stunt, ready to lecture, “Jesus, Gojo, what’s all that for? You could’ve just walked around.”

“Ehhhh, why would I do that? That’s so lame.” He comes and bends close to you enough to slang his arm around your shoulders. 

But you click your teeth and try to maneuver away from his tall figure. “You’re lame,” you mutter under your breath.

However, Gojo’s ears perked with furrowed brows. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, you lame white furby!” You repeat yourself with a huff and the snow-haired student gawks at your brazenness. 

The two of you argue again; students passing by silently exit the class, others stand and watch, and Professor Yaga can only sigh at yet another altercation between you two. 

However, it quickly dissipates when Haibara laughs from his seat. “You two, there’s never a dull moment.”

You and Gojo blink at the dark brunette before removing Gojo’s hand from your shoulders. “Hmph, it’s not like it’s my fault; he’s the one who starts it.”

“Oh, what could I possibly do to make Y/n so upset with me this time?” He pushes up his sunglasses, snickering at the scowl you send him. 

Ichiji, being the passive second-year he is, meekly changes the topic from the row below you three. “On some brighter news, at least we did well on the presentation.” 

“That’s right!” Haibara happily agrees with the statement, leaning against the chair with his hands behind his head. “Professor Yaga seemed really pleased with our arguments; I don’t think he intervened even once. Plus, he said many good things about how we handled the topic. Nice one, team!” 

The raven-haired one hums at the other’s exclamation. “I think most of it goes to how Y/n and Gojo bounced off each other’s arguments. How you two pulled up examples from the articles yet remained dignified with your viewpoints was cool to witness. I even saw some students be engaged with the conversation, many amazed with how Y/n refuted Gojo’s arguments elegantly and respectfully.”

But most of all, what the two sophomores wanted to mention was that there was no yelling. To them, the professor, and all the students of this class, you and Gojo presented your presentation without a single tone of malice, no pointless teasing, no name-calling, nothing! It was a civil conversation between two opposing sides. To everyone’s surprise — and thankful stars — today was a success.

You chuckle nervously at the praise. “Oh, come on, you two, don’t let me and Gojo take all the credit. You guys did your part. Especially you, Ichiji; you were an exceptional help for my side and finding sources I could build off from.”

Gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes. “Psssh, don’t butter them up like that; without us, they would’ve failed this presentation big time. No offense.” He was forced to say that when you called him by his last name and hit him with your elbow.

None taken, the two younger friends say to themselves unbeknownst to each other. 

The tall one continues, “Besides, you were the one who did most of the work. I slacked off until the last minute when you whipped me into shape.” Gojo brings his hand on top of your head for a pat. The action surprised you enough to flinch a bit. “Nice work like always, Y/n.”

Were the stars aligned differently, or did Gojo just compliment you? It certainly took you aback, especially the two others who silently kept their observation to themselves. 

You could only look at his complacent look for a few seconds before you realized the warmth of your cheeks became stronger. Averting your eyes, you remove his hand from your head. “Thanks, Gojo…” you express gratitude. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

A cheeky smile, his dimples prominent to blind you. “Awww, would you two look at that? They’re complimenting me, too~” Another bump to the chest has him cackling like a child, and you shake your head with rolled eyes.

The two younger students observe the scene before Haibara forcibly stretches and yawns to catch the two’s attention. “Man, I’m so hungry; I skipped lunch to prepare for this presentation. Me and Ijichi are gonna meet up with Nanami at the dining hall. You guys wanna come?”

You instantly beam at the proposal; who are you to refuse a dinner with your friends? “Sure! I’d love to…Oh! Wait, let me use the restroom and fill my water bottle.”

You rummage through your backpack for your water bottle before exiting the classroom. The boys watch you descend from row after row, and Gojo says, “Don’t take too long; I’ll convince them to leave without you.”

“Hmph, go ahead and try! They invited me; I don’t know who told you to invite yourself.” You stick your tongue out at him before opening and closing the door behind you. 

Gojo watches you with a smile still plastered on his face for a few seconds before Ijichi makes a tiny cough to catch his attention, the sunglasses-wearing junior turning to look back down to the other two. He notes the albeit cheesy-smiling faces they harbor, and he lifts a brow. “The hell are you two smiling for?”

The raven-haired sophomore squeaks at the sudden firm tone, “N–Nothing!”

“Pfft, oh come on, Kiyo; let’s not act like we didn’t see what we just saw.”

Gojo catches the nuance of Haibara’s comment. “Saw what?”

“You’re over here talking about our faces, but you’re the one who’s smiling at Y/n as they leave the door?” The brunette sophomore sends a wink to his junior, whose face doesn’t change at the comment.

“And your point is?”

“Well, it seems — to me, at least —  there might be something going on with you and Y/n?” 

Gojo was prepared for that, opening his mouth to interject quickly. However, the dark-haired other beat him to the punch. “Now that you mention it, Gojo and Y/n have been kind of…stable? There's still the usual arguments, but those haven't happened as much since last week…”

“Right!?” Haibara points at Ijichi with exclamation, making the other second-year flinch. “For some reason, things seem to be a little quieter with the two of them now, not to mention them hanging out way more often. Everyone’s been talking about it; even Geto and Shoko asked if Gojo had done anything that made Y/n passive?”

“I asked Nanami about it on Monday; he thinks maybe Y/n finally knocked some sense into Gojo’s childish brain to have him be so civil to engage without yelling their head off.”

“Pffthaha, I wouldn’t go that far. Y/n did just kick him in the shin yesterday for scaring them from behind.”

“Ahh, yes, well, that was deserved.”

“You two realize I’m still standing right the fuck here, right?” No, they hadn’t because the two discerned the twitch of Gojo’s brow after conversing about the tall, white-haired boy. 

“But it’s true!”

Another voice enters the set, making Gojo raise his head, and the other two turn to their left. It was some girl and her friend. Gojo knew of her; she sat next to him during class. Again, he knew of her, meaning she had no significance to his knowledge.

And yet, she speaks to the three boys. “You and Y/n have gotten a lot more close these past weeks compared to previous semesters—“

“Real close, too!” Their friend adds on from behind. “It’s as if you two are like a couple.”

“So…Are you two….a thing?”

Gojo could tell from a mile away what this was. Obviously, the first girl has a thing for him — he can see the anxiousness from the twiddle of her thumbs and avoidant eye contact. Although he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t even answer the question the way he wanted. What the hell could he say: that you two are in a secret relationship? He knows you’d have his grave ready before he could finish that confession.

And he can’t say the two of you are in any relationship either; it’s not what you would’ve told them. To everyone else, you and Gojo are friends who would preferably be caught dead rather than lying in bed together. So, might as well keep that facade up.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he starts with the push of his sunglasses. “Y/n is a pretty good friend, and I’d like to keep it at that.”

Haibara and Ijichi turn from Gojo to look at each other and shrug. Before turning back, something caught their eye that caused the two sophomores’ skin to turn white.

Ijichi tries to prevent Gojo from speaking further. “G-Gojo—“

However, the tall one doesn’t listen. “I mean, sure, they got a nice personality and are independent…Kinda pretty, too, not gonna lie. But they’re not really my type. I mean, have you seen them? Just a little person who likes to find trivial stuff to yell at me over. Angry at the world around them, I’d say.“

“Go. Jo.” Haibara says the junior’s name through gritted teeth, bringing his hand up by his neck and drawing an imaginary horizontal line back and forth — a gesture for Gojo to not say anymore. But unfortunately, the sign wasn’t seen, and the words kept pouring out.  

“And to be honest, can you imagine? Me and Y/n, a couple? Jesus Christ, that would be fucking exhausting to deal with, especially with someone so boring and too uncute like them. I’ve seen prettier, been with better. I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them—“

“SATORU GOJO!”

Now — that sudden burst of yell from a loud, masculine voice — that was what got Gojo’s attention. It’s what got the attention of everyone else in the room. The snow-haired student jerks to look at the professor standing at the front, the older man with a deep frown. “What?

The professor doesn’t answer him. Instead, he points to the left of him with his chin with a huff. With common sense, Gojo turns behind him to see where the older man points. And at that moment, he felt his very being drop to the soles of his feet. Haibara and Ijichi took a slow breath in unison at the immediate tension.

Behind him stood you, a lone figure holding their water bottle within three arm’s length away from the group. But that was sufficient enough for you to have heard everything said. 

Breathing suddenly felt impossible for Gojo; his entire body was stiff under your gaze. His shades could hide his eyes, but he wasn’t sure it could shield the instant shame that slapped him across the face from you. 

And that was another thing: the look you harbored was indecipherable — the true definition of disengagement. There were no widened eyes, quivering lips, or shaky hands. You stood plainly and looked as though you were detached from the entire situation. And that was what scared him the most.

This was strike one.

He dared not move when you began walking up, and your eyes then shifted to ignore his presence. “Hey, Yu,” the brunette straightened his posture at the use of the first name. “I think I’ll have to decline on that dinner offer. I’m a little tired and have a paper I need to work on…Maybe next time?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure, no problem.” He answers with a sweat.

Wait a second. Gojo tries to call for you, “Y/n—“

“Ijichi,” but you immediately shut him down and directed your attention to the other sophomore friend as you put on your coat and stuffed your water bottle back into your bag. “Be sure to submit the presentation template and sources to the course site before the end of the day, please.”

“U–Uhh, already done, Y/n.” He squeaks while reassuring.

Wait, please. The tall one tries again, “Wait, Y/n—“

“Good.” You sling your backpack on, refusing to look at the person trying to talk to you. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” And with that, you turn on your heel and head down the row to leave.

No, wait, stop— “Y/n, wait!” This was strike two. 

Gojo doesn’t hesitate to call out to you. At that moment, he follows you to the class steps where you were a row down left from the door. He grabs your hand without thinking, the size of your palm captured by his slender fingers. He knew it was a risky move, but he had to — he had to get you to talk with him right now, if not ever. Because the latter is something he isn’t ready for, something he didn’t think would be a possibility.

And yet, he will learn this lesson of being prepared for the impossible when you rapidly turn to him. Strike three.

SLAP!

Have you ever seen someone get smacked in the face so hard that their sunglasses come off? The remaining two girls who witnessed it know for sure now. Haibara and Ijichi won’t admit to it as they immediately turn to the other side of the room when they saw your hand move. But please believe they winced at the sound of the impact. The same goes for Professor Yaga, who was too stunned to speak, yet it was a valid outcome. 

Gojo didn’t move a single limb, allowing the stinging feeling on his cheek to course through his facial muscles. His eyes were glued to the carpeted ground; he knew that’s where they were supposed to be. And you snatched your hand away from his grasp, leaving his fingers to suffer in forced loneliness.

“You…you think it’s all fun and games to say stuff like that when I turn my back for a few minutes, huh?” He can see your hand palpitate from his peripheral; the anger depicted alone was enough to interpret. And the tremble in your voice? It felt like an arrow to his being. “…Look at me.”

He’d be a fool to have you repeat yourself; he has lost that right to toy with you now. With a slow inhale, Gojo rotates his head at you, azure eyes tracking up your figure to your face. And when it lands at that destination, his heart is shot down.

Tears stream down vexed, watery eyes. Your brows furrowed, and your bottom lip chewed in a terrible attempt to stop it from quivering. The rise and fall of your shoulders as you moderate your breathing, trying so hard not to let your temper dwell into a deeper phase of ugly. It was bad enough you’re crying in public, in front of your peers, your teacher — and it was because of him. 

“From this day forward,” you fight your sniffles to say your statement as clearly as possible. “Don’t you ever talk to me, Satoru Gojo. Enjoy your life without something as boring as me.”

And with that, you dismiss yourself from him and the class altogether, the room silent even after the slam of the door closed. No one says anything, too shocked from the event to utter a letter. 

The silence aids the ringing in Gojo’s ears, his breathing still having trouble maintaining a balanced front. The cheek you slapped burned with pain; he’s sure the skin is as red as a cherry. 

Oh, fuck.

He brings a hand to his face, his body fighting the trembling. The ringing in his ears worsens, along with the pounding in his head that beats like a drum. His eyes stuck to the ground below him, choosing to focus on something inanimate and not living. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

All he could think of in this time and place was you. Memories flashing right before him, of you and only you. He can hear the way you say his name, both in vexation and in sweet tunes. Your smiles, your frowns, your huffs, your whispers. When your eyebrows scrunch whenever you express worry for him, how you’re never afraid to stand up against him when making a point, the smile that’s been blinding him for many days and nights — the smile he wouldn’t mind seeing for eternity.

All those memories were one stab to his heart after another. And every time a recollection ended, a flash of your crying face would return to haunt him. Tears that weren’t meant to be there but were, and warm feelings you expressed with him were gone the moment he saw your eyes void of feelings for him. At least, that’s what he saw.

He hurt you. That was the only revelation that haunted him where he stood, making his voice falter from confidence. It was a revelation he never meant to bring about. And now that it exists and he sees the damage, nothing would be better for him now than the ground beneath him swallowing him whole.

“What…the fuck…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[ghoulsbounty]

Friend of the Devil

Lee Russell x Gamby!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), office sex, oral (f receiving), face riding, interrupted fun times, cursing, angst, Lee is mean (but soft), secret relationship, power dynamics, power play, slight mentions of sub/dom, childish sibling relationship, competitive nature, frenemies, fluff/happy ending.

Word Count: 6.3K

A/N: Here's the Lee part to this anon's other request! I took a while going back and forth with this because I wanted to focuse on how Lee's personality affects everybody, and readers relationship/how you fit into that and in turn have effected him. There's a few Gamby sister requests similar to this going around, so I wanted to do something different but still follow the request. I hope you enjoy! I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

The lunchroom was alive with a vibrant cacophony of voices and the rhythmic clatter of trays, the air thick and rich with the mingled aromas of cafeteria offerings—overcooked vegetables, processed meats, and the ever-present scent of reheated pizza. Fluorescent lights flickered slightly overhead, casting a harsh glow over the busy scene. Teachers gathered in their usual enclaves, finding solace and camaraderie amidst the relentless pace of school life. At the corner table, under a particularly noisy air vent, a spirited discussion took place, the latest school gossip providing a welcome escape from the relentless mountains of essays to grade and detailed lesson plans to refine.

Ms. Abbott, always the central figure in these lunchtime exchanges, leaned forward with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't look now, but here comes Tweedle-Dee," she whispered, her voice a blend of amusement and mock secrecy. Her comment ignited a ripple of subdued laughter that spread through the group. Eager heads turned discreetly, their curiosity piqued, all wanting a glimpse of the person who had become the unwitting protagonist of Ms. Abbott’s playful narrative.

Approaching with a brisk, almost frantic stride was Lee Russell. His attire, a meticulously tailored suit paired with gleaming shoes, barely concealed the unmistakable tension he carried. Since his promotion to principal, Russell had swiftly gained the unfortunate distinction of being the least favoured among the faculty. His unpredictable and often heavy-handed leadership style had alienated many. 

"He must be lost without Tweedle-Dum," Ms. Abbott remarked, her voice laced with a sharp edge of sarcasm.

Seychelle, always ready to add drama to any conversation, pounced on the opportunity. "He and Gamby were so far up each other's asses they could tickle each other's tonsils," he declared, his smirk broadening as he theatrically adjusted his silk scarf, draping it back over his shoulder. The group burst into laughter, a sound filled with both genuine amusement and a cathartic release from their collective disdain. "I heard he's returning soon, so maybe it will put his boyfriend in a better mood," Seychelle added, his tone dripping with irony.

As the laughter reverberated around the table, a sudden hush descended when you cleared your throat—a soft yet unmistakable signal of a presence they had momentarily forgotten. Seychelle, caught mid-chuckle, turned as the directed gazes of his colleagues guided him to meet your eyes. Seated right beside him, you were struggling to suppress your own mirth.

"Oh, sorry, Miss Gamby," Seychelle stuttered, his usual confidence slipping as he managed an apologetic smile.

You nodded, acknowledging his apology while your mind briefly wandered to your brother, Neal, and his infamous collaboration with Lee Russell. Together, they had orchestrated a reign filled with both mischief and mismanagement, becoming the stuff of legend at North Jackson High School. Now, with Neal's absence, Russell appeared more adrift than ever—an observation that had not escaped the keen, sometimes merciless eyes of the faculty.

"It's fine," you said reassuringly, prodding the homemade leftovers in your container with a fork. "My brother's an asshole, but Lee Russell is the fucking devil."

The group chuckled, the tension melting away as they eased back into their conversations. You let out a sigh, then heard the distinct click of Prada shoes on the linoleum and the wafting, fruity scent of cologne—signals of the principal’s approach. Setting down your fork, you looked up just in time to see Lee Russell stop beside your table. "Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," you quipped with a tight smile.

Lee ignored the light-hearted jab, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized your lunch. "What the fuck is that?" he demanded, pointing at your container. "Is this what poor people eat?" His words cut through the resumed chatter, casting a silence over the table.

You rolled your eyes, your gaze taking in his perfectly tailored suit and meticulously styled hair—the stark contrast between his polished appearance and his coarse behaviour never failed to amaze you. "I don't know, Lee," you retorted, your voice mocking. "You pay my wages, so you tell me."

Russell's eyes flashed with irritation as a sneer formed on his lips. "Maybe if you spent less time eating garbage like a fuckin' pig and more time doing your job, we wouldn't have so many problems," he snapped.

Taking a moment, you looked around the cafeteria, observing the other teachers quietly watching the exchange, the rambunctious students that ignored it, then turned your weary gaze back to him. "It's lunchtime, Lee. Even school staff need to eat," you stated flatly, emphasizing the obvious.

Ms. Abbott's snigger echoed across the table, momentarily lightening the atmosphere until Lee's sharp glare silenced her amusement. Ignoring her, he leaned forward, pressing his knuckles against the table and fixing his gaze on you with an intensity that felt almost tangible. "Since when did you become so goddamn fuckin' familiar? It's Principal Russell to you," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "And it's lunchtime when I say it's lunchtime. You get your ass in my office and finish writing that grant proposal that was due this morning, or you'll be so fuckin' fired that dogshit will seem like a Michelin star recipe to you. Understood?"

You met his stare unflinchingly, the tension at the table palpable. You knew the importance of picking your battles, especially under the watchful eyes of your colleagues. "Understood, Principal Russell," you responded, your voice calm and measured.

Lee's smug expression deepened as he surveyed the now quiet group. "Good," he spat out, his tone dripping with contempt, pleased with his perceived control over the situation.

Mrs. Deets, unable to contain her dismay, addressed him directly, her voice filled with concern and a hint of defiance. "Don't you think you're being unfair, Russell?" she asked, her eyes flicking briefly to you in sympathy. "You've been loading Miss Gamby with extra work for weeks, and now you're disrupting her lunch break," she continued, her expression frustrated.

Her intervention brought a momentary pause, the air thick as everyone awaited Russell's response, wondering whether it would temper his approach or incite further harshness.

Lee's eyes hardened, turning towards Mrs. Deets with a menacing glint. "And what are you going to do? Report me to HR?" he taunted, his voice thick with arrogance. "I'd like to see you try. They're all in my pocket, just like you should be." His eyes narrowed as he scanned the table, issuing a silent challenge to anyone daring to contest his authority. The table fell silent under his gaze.

With a final sneer, he turned on his heel and strode away, the authoritative click of his polished shoes echoing ominously through the lunchroom. The oppressive atmosphere lingered for a moment before gradually dissipating, leaving displeasure behind but also a sense of unity among the faculty. They exchanged looks that communicated a shared resolve; something would need to change, but carefully and strategically, to avoid the fallout of a direct confrontation with a man who held too much power and too little regard for others.

Gathering your things, you stood and glanced around at the sympathetic faces of your fellow teachers. "Just another day at North Jackson," you remarked, trying to lighten the mood. You gave Mrs. Deets a grateful nod for her support. "Thanks for trying, Val," you added sincerely. Then, with a resigned breath, you turned and headed towards Lee's office, your mind already strategizing for the confrontation ahead and the careful navigation it would require.

Rounding the reception desk, you greeted Miss Swift with a nod, your eyes briefly scanning toward the office behind her. The blinds were tightly drawn, and the muffled sound of Russell's frustrated rant seeped through the closed door. Miss Swift met your gaze with a look of caution. "He's just got back," she whispered, her tone hushed. "He's been in a real bad mood all day. Made me cancel all his appointments and said he was going to tell Superintendent Haas to—well, it wasn't very nice."

You offered her a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, Janice. You know he's always got a stick up his butt about something," you reassured her, your casual words drawing a reluctant smile from her. "You go have some lunch. I've got this." With a confident nod, you prepared yourself and approached the door to Russell's office, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Lee Russell's voice was sharp as he commanded you to close the door, his tone betraying the strain of the day. As you shut the door behind you, the office felt suffocatingly small, filled with the tension that seemed to emanate from the man hunched over his desk.

Standing a respectable distance away, you maintained a neutral tone, despite the stress in the air. "You wanted to see me, Principal Russell?" you asked, watching as he slowly lifted his face from his hands, revealing a weary expression that briefly flickered to surprise, perhaps not expecting your calm demeanour. You waited, poised for his response, ready to discuss the grant proposal or whatever else he deemed urgent enough to interrupt your lunch. Deep down, you understood the true reason for this meeting, yet you couldn't deny the thrill it added to the encounter when you pretended otherwise.

"I don't have time for your smart-ass remarks today," he grumbled, slumping back into his chair with his legs spread wide. He shot you a pitiful glance, his face etched with frustration. "Everything's falling apart, and you're too busy cozying up to my damn enemies to be of any help." His voice was a blend of desperation and resentment, the anger he had shown earlier in the cafeteria now reduced to a needy whine.

You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at his dramatics as you circled his desk, perching on its edge right in front of him. "They're my colleagues, Lee—your staff—and we need to keep things normal without you losing it and threatening me in front of everyone in the cafeteria," you said calmly, fully aware that it would take more to alleviate his irritation as he rolled his eyes.

"Losing it?" He scoffed, fixing you with a pointed look. "You've seen nothing yet. I'd line them all up and send them packing one by one, like a damn firing squad execution. The faculty are a massive pain in my ass; they're all fucking replaceable." His words were sharp and icy, each one a dagger designed to intimidate and belittle—something he excelled at.

The harshness of his tone left no doubt about his contempt for his colleagues, his disregard for their contributions painfully clear. This wasn't the first time you had heard such sentiments from him—it was merely the latest in a series of similar tirades. Lee had fought his way to the position of principal with a tenacity and fierceness that appeared limitless. His impulsive nature and propensity to act without thinking through the consequences often left you as the one trying to reel him back from the brink, attempting to mitigate the fallout of his decisions before they escalated into full-blown crises.

Lee's relentless ambition had fostered a toxic atmosphere, one rife with fear and uncertainty. Each time he went into a downward spiral, the responsibility fell on you to curb his impulsive decisions and soften the impact. The stress and exhaustion were evident on your colleagues' faces, their morale dwindling under Lee's oppressive leadership. You had cautioned him that maintaining friendships would be challenging once he held power over others, but he had dismissed your concerns, preoccupied instead with choosing the ideal carpet colour for his opulent new office. His priorities, it seemed, were focused more on appearances than on the well-being of his staff.

"Oh, really? And what will you do with nine hundred students and no one to teach them?" you questioned, going along with his rant. A bemused smile played at the corners of your lips, reflecting both amusement and scepticism at his drastic solutions.

"I'd hire new ones, ones who actually listen and respect me. Start fresh, a clean slate without those fuckin' assholes," he replied, his determination evident in the firm set of his jaw. When you laughed, he nudged your leg gently with his knee, showing a rare moment of playfulness amidst his tirade. "Might keep you, though," he mumbled, his tone softening slightly.

"Really? I thought I was the first on your list to go," you teased, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Wasn't there something about firing me? Something about dogshit tasting good?"

He rolled his eyes again, his frustration melting into a reluctant smile. He scooted his chair closer to you and leaned forward, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your skirt. "I didn't mean it," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with regret. It seemed as if the gravity of his own words had caught him off guard.

Apologies from him were rare, like the fleeting glimpses of vulnerability he feared showing, lest they be exploited. His public outbursts had intensified since your brother's absence, leaving you to bear the brunt of his sharp tongue. The weight of his words felt heavier, cutting deeper as if to compensate for the missing target. Meanwhile, the staff's insubordination had increased, emboldened by the shifting dynamics.

Despite your frequent reminders that the tough façade wasn't as necessary without Neal around, Lee remained resolute in his approach. His determination to show the faculty that you were just another annoyance, merely another Gamby sibling he had to tolerate, was unwavering. He carried himself with an air of cold authority, a mask firmly in place to shield any sign of weakness, even if it meant pushing you further away.

Yet, you found yourself falling for him during every stolen moment in his office. Each encounter, hidden from the prying eyes of the world, unveiled the layers beneath his hardened exterior. The soft whispers, the fleeting touches, and the rare, unguarded smiles slowly revealed a side of him that was vulnerable and aching. Over time, you convinced yourself that Lee Russell was a deeply flawed man whom you could fix.

You watched his hand as it slipped beneath the hem of your skirt, tracing a gentle path along your thigh. You halted his advance by placing your hand over his, confronting his surprised look with a firm gaze of your own. "That's not how this works," you asserted clearly.

He let out a dramatic sigh and reclined in his chair, eyes shifting upwards to the stained ceiling tiles. "Do we have to go through this every time?" he asked, his voice laced with an unmistakable air of arrogance as he nudged his chair to swivel slightly with his feet.

"If you want to fuck me, then yes, we absolutely do," you responded, your tone flat and matter-of-fact. Your hands clutched the edges of the desk tightly, ready for whatever might follow. Observing him closely, you noted the visible struggle on his face as he prepared to speak, a battle of emotions that ended with him throwing his hands up in evident annoyance.

"Fine, fuck," he sighed, "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that you made me shout at you," he mumbled, leaning forward in his chair and placing his hands on your knees. "There, are you happy now, you fucking cretin?" His gaze bore into yours with an intense mixture of annoyance and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. His eyes searched yours, seeking a reaction, a connection, while his rough words contrasted sharply with the tenderness of his touch.

You smiled down at him, a hint of satisfaction playing on your lips as your resolve waned. Casually, you draped both legs over the sides of his chair, your feet resting on either side of his legs. The room seemed to close in around you, the tension thick in the air as you held his gaze, challenging him silently while his hands remained on your knees..

Lee smirked, his eyes darkening with desire as he pushed your skirt higher up your thighs until it bunched at your waist, exposing more of your skin to the cool air. He hummed in appreciation at the sight of your panties, the fabric already darkening with the wetness that the tease of his fingers drew from you. The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity, the raw hunger evident in his eyes making your heart race and your breath hitch. His hands, resting back on your knees, gripped a little tighter, the possessiveness in his touch sending shivers down your spine.

Your skin prickled under his touch as he trailed soft kisses along your legs, from the inside of your knee to your thigh, until the curve of his nose pressed deliciously against your heat. You gasped, your hips involuntarily seeking more pressure from him, but he pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory gleam.

He sat back, his gaze intense as his hand slid up your inner thigh. Two fingers hooked behind the fabric of your underwear, swiping through your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You moaned as both fingers pressed against your entrance, the sensation electrifying. Lee's other hand pushed at your knee, spreading your legs wider, ensuring you were perfectly displayed for him.

His eyes roamed over you hungrily, the anticipation building as you felt the heat of his desire in his touch. Every sensation amplified, your body responding eagerly to his every move, you gasped into the silence of the room when his fingers finally filled you, buried to the knuckle, as he began to pump them in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. You leaned back against the desk on your elbows, head thrown back in pleasure, rutting your hips against him to encourage a faster speed. 

Suddenly, you felt a sharp thwack against the fat of your thigh, his hand coming down hard and grabbing at the tender flesh. "Stay still. Don't be so fuckin' impatient, damn," he scolded, his voice a low growl, the command making your throat burn. The sting of his slap mingled with the pleasure from his fingers, heightening your arousal as you lifted your head to look at him. His eyes bore into yours, a dominance there that made your pulse race even faster. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to obey, your body craving more even as you tried to remain still under his intense scrutiny.

"Maybe I should fire you. Can't take a simple instruction, can you? What use are you to me?" he taunted, his words cutting through you in a deliciously cruel way. The sting of his tone only deepened your need, a twisted thrill running through you at his harsh command. His fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm, and you fought to keep still, every fibre of your being wanting to both submit to and defy him.

You bit your tongue, staring up at the office ceiling. There was so much you wanted to say, but you knew it would only lead to arguments and, ultimately, not getting what you craved. So, you stayed silent. Instead, you adjusted yourself, laying your back flat against the desk and wriggling slightly when a stapler dug into your hip.

Once you settled, you slid one hand down your body until you reached the bunched-up skirt. Hooking two fingers around your panties, you pulled them aside to give him better access. The rush of cool, air-conditioned air hitting your hot pussy sent a shiver up your spine as you bared yourself completely to him. You watched his reaction, noting the way his eyes clouded, his breath catching slightly at the sight of you exposed and vulnerable before him.

The desk felt cold and hard beneath you, a stark contrast to the heat building between your legs. Every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation, the raw need to be touched and filled consuming your thoughts. The only sounds the hum of the air conditioner and the ragged breathing shared between you. You could feel his gaze like a physical touch, every second of his hesitation adding to the delicious torment.

As you lay there, fully exposed and waiting for his next move, your heart pounded in your chest. The thrill with Lee was always in the battle of wills, the way you both enjoyed the shifting power dynamic. Each moment was a tantalizing dance of dominance and submission, need and restraint.

You knew the hold you had over him, a card you kept close to your chest and only played when necessary. Yet, you loved watching him fall apart for you. His tough exterior and harsh words melted away in these intimate moments, revealing a vulnerability that was yours to command.

You could see the internal struggle on his face, the conflict between his need to dominate and the pleasure he derived from you taking what you wanted. It was a delicate balance, one you both played to perfection. As he finally leaned in, his fingers resuming their slow, torturous rhythm, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that in this intricate dance, you held the upper hand.

His nose to your pussy, he breathed you in deeply, his fingers moving with deliberate slowness.  You arched your back slightly, simultaneously grinding down onto his fingers and pressing into the bridge of his nose, your own breath coming in shallow gasps. The world outside ceased to exist, the only reality the intense connection between you two.

His hand tightened on your thigh, a silent command for you to stay still, but the gleam in his eyes as he looked up at you told you he relished your defiance. The raw desire in his gaze, the possessiveness of his touch, everything about this moment was intoxicating. As his fingers continued their relentless teasing, you felt the tension building, the delicious anticipation of what was to come.

Lee groaned at the sight of you, soaking wet and dripping just for him. Ever since his first taste, he couldn't get enough. He had lost his mind when you came on his tongue for the first time, practically riding his face to get the pressure exactly where you needed it. Lee loved that you used him for your own pleasure and revelled in using you for his, only to go about his day as if he hadn’t just had you bent over his desk and buried himself deep inside you.

His fingers quickened their pace, sliding in and out of you with practiced ease, each movement eliciting a soft moan from your lips. He watched you intently, his eyes dark with lust as you ran one hand over the swell of your breasts, pinching your nipple through the thin fabric of your blouse just hard enough to send a jolt down to your core. The scent of your arousal filled the air, mingling with the faint smell of your perfume and the cigarette that he had moments before approaching you in the cafeteria, creating an intoxicating blend that drove him wild.

"You like this, don't you?" he muttered, his voice low and rough. "Being spread out on my desk, ready for me to take you whenever I want."

You responded with a gasp, your hips lifting to meet his hand, craving more of the exquisite friction he provided. His other hand gripped your thigh tightly, his thumb brushing against your sensitive skin, adding to the whirlwind of sensations overwhelming you.

It excited him, made him hard when he thought about how no one knew what you let him do to you, and how they couldn’t do anything about it even if they did find out. The secrecy added a tantalizing edge to every encounter, an illicit thrill that made his pulse quicken.

The added twist of your brother, although messier, made it even more exhilarating. The rivalry with Neal meant that fucking you felt like a personal victory over the Vice Principal. Each time he had you, it was as if he was asserting his dominance, winning a private battle that only he understood.

Lee loved to win, and every stolen moment with you was a triumph. The thrill of conquest and the raw, unrestrained passion between you made his blood sing, fuelling his desire and solidifying his need to claim you again and again.

Sometimes, after coming down from your post-coital rendezvous in his office or under the bleachers, Lee would think that perhaps he didn't only love to win, but maybe loved you too. In those quiet moments, when the heat of passion had cooled and reality seeped back in, he felt a flicker of something deeper. Then, he'd light a cigarette, the sharp scent of tobacco filling the air, and shake his head, reminding himself that there were only three things he truly cared for in life—power, secrecy, and reputation.

You played a significant role in all of these. Your illicit encounters fuelled his sense of control, the thrill of secrecy added spice to his otherwise calculated life, and maintaining his pristine reputation meant everything to him, which he couldn't do without your cooperation. But no matter how good your pussy felt, he couldn't let you overshadow his priorities. He repeated this in his mind like a mantra as he leant forward, and licked a hot stripe up the expanse of you with the flat of his tongue.

"Lee," you mewled, the hand not on your breast moving to tangle in his frosted tips as he hooked your legs over his shoulder. His mouth was hot on you again, his tongue flicking back and forth as it lapped up the juices weeping from where his fingers were fucking into you. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His fingers moved in a steady rhythm, matching the pace of his tongue, driving you closer to the edge with every stroke as you muffled his moans. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of his touch, and he responded by pressing deeper, his growl vibrating against your sensitive skin.

Every nerve in your body was alight, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. His grip on your thigh tightened, holding you in place as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. The combination of his fingers and tongue was driving you wild, your moans growing louder as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy.

When his nose nudged your sensitive nub, you cried out into the room. "Shut the fuck up," he hissed, his mouth leaving you but his fingers continuing their relentless assault. Whispered apologies fell from your lips as you writhed against the desk. He dipped his head again, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

You felt him smirk against you, fully aware that what he was doing made it nearly impossible for you to stay quiet. The pressure of his mouth and the skilful movement of his fingers pushed you to the edge, each sensation amplified by the need to stifle your sounds.

Your whispered apologies turned to desperate pleas as he curled his fingers inside you, stroking with precision. You keened at the pleasure, rolling your hips to seek it again and again, your body completely at his mercy.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a mix of command and encouragement. He alternated between sucking and licking your clit, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with his fingers as they worked you open. The sensations were overwhelming, each stroke and flick sending you spiralling closer to your climax.

Your body responded eagerly, muscles tensing and releasing as waves of pleasure threatened to course through you. "Ride my face," he murmured against you, the vibrations of his voice adding to the intensity as his nails dug into your thigh, not holding you still this time but instead encouraging you to grind against him. "Go on, you know I want it. Don't hold back." His words were both a challenge and an invitation, urging you to take what you needed without hesitation.

With a few final, desperate rolls of your hips, you surrendered to the building pleasure, letting it crash over you in powerful bursts. Your climax tore through you, leaving you breathless and trembling, the room echoing with the sounds of your release. Your body convulsed, your swollen cunt clenching around his fingers and soaking them with a gush of juices that seeped down to the desk below.

Lee worked quickly, lapping up every bit of your release from you as the last of the shockwaves wracked your limp body. He kissed and nipped lightly at your thighs before drawing back to take your hands in his, pulling you up like a rag doll to sit before him. You slumped forward, resting your hands on his shoulders as he captured your lips in a heated kiss.

You sighed at the taste of yourself on his warm lips, his hands slinking around your waist to pull you into his lap. Straddling him, you felt the hardness of his arousal pressing against you through his clothes. His kiss was intense, filled with raw hunger as he moaned against your lips, and you responded eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair.

His hands roamed your back, sliding under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin. The connection between you was electric, every touch and kiss reigniting the fire between you. You could feel his need, his desire to take you, and it matched your own as you rocked against him, swallowing his gasp with your kiss.

Your mind was still reeling from the high, your attention fixated on pulling Lee closer, savouring the taste of yourself on his lips. The office door opening went unnoticed, and your brother's booming voice didn't register until Lee abruptly pushed you off his lap, sending you sprawling onto the carpeted floor.

Disoriented, you clung to the edge of the mahogany desk, its polished surface slick under your fingers. You pulled yourself up and peeked over the wood, willing yourself to focus. There stood your brother, his face a mask of fury, his eyes blazing with anger. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound reverberating through the room. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, his voice like thunder, one hand clenched at his side and the other gripping his ornate cane tightly. 

"Gamby, I wasn't expecting you," Lee greeted with a forced smile, his fingers smoothing down the creases in his tie as he rose from his seat. His posture was stiff, tension evident in every movement. "Swift must have a damn death wish," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and edged with frustration. You winced at his words, feeling the sting of his disapproval.

"I sent Miss Swift on lunch," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to explain. You glanced up at Lee, his expression steely as he looked down upon you, a harsh glare that made you feel even smaller. You mouthed your apology, hoping to diffuse the tension, but the atmosphere in the room was thick with unease. The weight of your brother's stare was almost unbearable, and you could feel the rage radiating off him in waves.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" Neal said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he drew both your attentions back to him. "Should I step outside so you can continue fucking my sister?" His voice was raised, face flushed, and you could see the prominent vein on his neck pulsing, a clear sign of his fury whenever he got worked up.

"What?" Lee asked, his voice taking on a jovial tone, though his smile faltered briefly. "Don't be an idiot, Gamby, I'm not fucking your sister," he reasoned, raising his hands in a placating gesture while nodding for you to get up from the floor.

Quickly, you adjusted your skirt, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You grabbed a manila folder that had fallen during the chaotic moment, clutching it tightly as if it could provide some semblance of reason. Rising to your feet, you held the folder up to Neal, trying to steady your shaking hands. "She was just helping with filing," Lee added, his voice smooth and reassuring but Neal's furious eyes remained fixed on him, scepticism etched across his face.

"Cut the bullshit, Russell! You've still got my sister's lady essence all over your goddamn mouth," Neal shouted in disgust, motioning to his own mouth with his hand. The air of pretence dropped from Lee's face as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at your brother with disdain.

You placed a hand on Lee's arm, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you looked between the two men. "Can we behave like adults about this, please?" you implored, hoping to bring some sense of calm to the escalating situation. 

Neal shrugged, eyebrows raised as he looked at you with disappointment written all over his face. "I just can't believe you're gonna break Mama's heart like this."

"Excuse me? What's Mama got to do with this?" you snapped, feeling a surge of frustration.

"Well, doesn't she have a right to know her only daughter has been defiled by a fuckin' leprechaun?" Neal shot back, his voice dripping with contempt.

"We're the same height, motherfucker," Lee interjected, his irritation clear as he stepped out from behind the desk, trying to defend himself.

"Russell, I swear to God if you do not point that thing somewhere else," Neal threatened, grabbing a cushion from the sofa beside him. He chucked it at Lee, who quickly caught it and held it over the bulging tent in his pants, his jaw tight.

He fixed Neal with a threatening glare. "Gamby, you need to understand that your sister is a grown woman with her own sexual desires, and I happen to be the one fulfilling those desires—really fulfilling them," he stressed, his smirk widening into a taunting grin. The words hung in the air, dripping with provocative intent. Neal's face contorted with disgust, his fist clenching at his sides. The tension between the two men was palpable, a volatile mix of anger and defiance that seemed ready to explode at any moment as they stared at each other from across the room.

"Lee, stop it," you said, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket but his eyes didn't move from Neals. You looked at your brother who pointed his cane to Lee, challenging him, and you sighed. "Neal, if you breathe a word of this to Mama, I'll tell her about Ms. Abbot giving you a sloppy in the supply closet," you threatened, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Neal's eyes snapped to you, then back to Lee, who held his hands up, his last ditch attempt at a gesture of innocence. Neal's face turned a shade redder, his fury momentarily replaced by shock and embarrassment as he dropped his cane back to his side. The balance of power shifted slightly, giving you a sliver of hope that the situation might be salvaged.

"You told her that? That's private, confidential information, Russell," Neal spat, his voice dripping with betrayal as he glared at Lee. "Just a couple of snakes in the grass, the pair of you."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "You know what? I've got a class to teach," you said, dropping the folder onto the desk with a thud. You moved towards the door, your steps purposeful. As you passed Neal, you paused, meeting his furious gaze with a calm steadiness. "I'll see you later at Janelle's race," you told him, hoping that by then he'd have somewhat gotten over this, although you knew it was going to take more than an afternoon for your stubborn brother to accept it.

He looked down at you, his demeanour wavering as you placed a hand on his arm. "I hope you wash the scent of shame from your body before you arrive," he said, his dramatic tone making you laugh despite the tension.

"Good to see you up and around, butthead," you said softly, giving his arm a light pat before reaching for the door. You turned back and glanced toward Lee, who was now slumped back in his chair with a pout on his face, still holding the cushion over his lap. You gave him a small wave. He rolled his eyes and shooed you away with a brush of his hand, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. 

As you stepped out of the office, you drew a deep breath, relieved to be out of the suffocating room. You knew that the repercussions of this encounter were far from over, but for now, you had other responsibilities to attend to, and the chaos of the moment would have to wait.

As you left, the muffled sounds of Lee and Neal arguing drifted through the door. You walked past Miss Swift, who had now returned to the reception area, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"I'd give them a moment," you told her, offering a small, knowing smile. Miss Swift nodded, her curiosity momentarily subdued, and you continued on your way, grateful to put some distance between yourself and the tumultuous scene you had left behind.

Hours later, as you sat at your desk watching your students during the afternoon pop quiz, you felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your skirt. The room was quiet except for the scratching of pencils on paper and the occasional rustle of paper. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, you discreetly pulled out your phone. The soft glow of the screen lit up your face as you saw the notification. You couldn't help but smile to yourself at the message, the tension from earlier in the day easing slightly.

Lee: Your brother's a little bitch. My least favourite Gamby.

You stifled a chuckle, biting your lip as you imagined the irritated look on Lee's face while typing the message. Moments later, another message arrived.

Lee: ❤️

The unexpected emoji made your heart skip a beat. You glanced up to ensure your students were still focused on their quiz, then allowed yourself a brief moment to savour the warm feeling spreading through your chest. You tucked your phone away, the smile lingering on your lips as you tried to refocus on your students, your mind still replaying the texts long past the bell.

[redroomwidows]

'I got one🙋🏻‍♀️ can’t you do Lee Russell x Neal’s younger sister reader? They’re secretly seeing each other behind his back and Neal walked in Lee’s office about to have sex or always having sex…. Up to you ☺️'

notes: everyone loves a good frenemies sister fic. I didn't go fully NSFW with this, it's just a bit steamy, and I made the reader plus-size cos I do what I like lol. Reader is not mentioned to be adopted or biological so view her as you wish. Lee is already divorced from Christine even if it's set at the start of S2!! Christine is a legend and I stand with her.

warnings: making out, inferences to sex, strong language (I mean come on). NSFW! Semi-public sex (they're in an office in a school in the middle of the day lol) Reader smokes and is described as wearing skirts and makeup. Reader is shorter than Lee. Blood mentions. unedited because I'm sleepy. Lee is definitely out if character because he is HARD to write for.

Lee Russell x plus size!fem! reader

North Jackson High was somewhat of a shit hole. Not a huge one, but there was definitely a mild stain somewhere. Two Principles in two semesters - three if you included the singular day Neal Gamby had walked through the halls - and five English teachers teaching one class in a year. The school was cursed.

That’s what you’d told yourself when you were offered the job as a TA for the next semester of school. Your brother, Neal, had insisted you take it - happy to stop seeing your worried face every day when you visited him at his ex-wife's.

“Look, one Gamby leaves, another enters,”

“That’s bullshit. You’ll be back there in no time,”

He was not, and his newfound friend had practically begged you to join the staff after your interview - you tried to tell yourself it wasn’t because of your brother, or the lowcut top you’d chosen to wear. 

A few weeks into your new job, you found that Lee Russell was rather… eccentric. Loud, and unapologetic, he had a strange aura that had you pulled in, ending up with both of you going for smoke breaks in the forest near the back end of the school, and ending up with your cheeks flushed and skirt askew.

You didn’t expect it to take Lee so long to initiate office sex - he seemed like the type - but he was surprisingly sweet when it came to intimacy. As foul-mouthed as he was, it seemed he genuinely liked you.

It had become somewhat of a ritual, that every Friday during your final free period, you’d find yourself in Lee’s office, either helping him plan for his ‘get the teachers to like me scheme’, or bent over his desk, his cock buried in you.

“Long day?” you ask when you enter his office, shutting the door behind you and starting to pull down the blinds: Lee was sitting at his desk, head in his hands.

“Better now you’re here sweetheart,” he grinned, flashing you his teeth, you hum unbelievably and continue to pull down the rest of the blinds, before you can turn to him, Lee has stood up against you, his hands snaking over your curves and to rest over your stomach.

“Lee,” you warn gently, his lips starting to kiss along the right hand side of your neck “You gotta lock the door,”

“I’m just playin’,” he mutters, but there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, you smile, and let your head fall back onto his shoulder “I spoke with Neal today,” he starts

“Can we not talk about my brother whilst you’re trying to get into my pants?” 

“Yes ma’am,” he smirks and spins you around, playfully pushing you behind his desk, you let out a soft giggle and lean by the centre of it as he approaches, swaying his hips dramatically before grabbing your face in his hands and pressing a long kiss to your lips.

He pulls away to breathe for a moment and you notice his eyes staying on yours “Hi,”

“Hi,” you giggle “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to see that pretty smile of yours,” that makes you smile more, and he leans in for another kiss, helping you to sit on his desk before his hands rest on your spread thighs to steady himself, he squeezes gently and runs his hand up closer to your clothed core. The small moan you let out allows him to slip his tongue inside, and your arms wrap around his neck, Lee pulls away, smudging your lipstick over your chin, and he returns to your neck, lightly nipping at it.

“Lee,” you moan out “I can’t go out there with hicky’s all over me,”

“I’ll be gentle,”

“You’ve never been before,” Lee lets out a huff of laughter that sends tingles down your spine, he breaths into you ear and speaks lowly

“Never complained before doll,” 

“Oh, just fuck me,” you sigh, the foreplay already had you near soaked, and although it was only an hour ‘till the bell rang for the end of the day, you were desperate.

Lee hooks his pinky finger under your chin, tilting your head to look at him “Who’s the principle here darlin’?”

“You,” you breathe out and he grins, his other hand cupping at your sex before he drops your chin and goes to unbutton your trousers, he looks down.

“Jeans really? Miss Gamby, that violates our dress code,” he tuts

“You gonna write me up Mr. Russell?” he groans at that and leans his head back 

“Oh you know just how to get a man rock hard darlin’” he presses his lips to yours again, and reopens your thighs, this time actually unzipping your jeans and attempting to pull them down. Your own hands keep themselves busy, unbuckling his belt, and slipping a hand down his trousers to palm at his underwear - he really was rock hard.

“Just been waintin’ to ravish you here,” he mutters, biting at your neck again “Wanna show all those cunts who’s boss,” you use your right hand to make him look up again, leaning in for a harsher kiss, biting at his bottom lip, he groans, tasting his own blood slightly. You two become too lost in your own lust too hear the office door open.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Shit!” you pull back, and turn around quickly, seeing your older brother standing there, jaw on the floor, he slams the door shut.

“What the hell Russell?! You’re fucking my sister?!”

Lee backs away quickly as you wipe the lipstick from your chin, staring to rezip your jeans.

“Well we hadn't quite got to that bit yet, and sometimes she fucks me,”

“Lee!” you scold, he puts his hands up in surrender - causing his trousers to drop down, showing only his underwear “Oh lord,”

“You wear briefs?” Neal questions

“Stop looking at my dick!” Lee exclaims

“You’re practically shoving it in my face!”

“Boys!” you jumps off the desk “Let-”

“Oh, you’re not in the clear here either missy!”

“Missy?! I’m a grown woman!”

“Who’s fucking her boss!” Neal shouts

“Do you want the whole school to know?!”

“I do,” Lee raises his hand

“Not now,”

“And we’re not just fucking Neal, we’re in a loving committed relationship,” Lee places his right hand on your waist and pulls you closer, you look down.

“Your dick’s poking me,” you say bluntly and Neal covers his eyes - finally.

“Pull your pants up Russell, you,” he points “I’m taking you home,”

“I’m technically on the clock…”

“So you’ll fuck him but not go home?”

“Yep,” you nod confidently “Look Neal, I get this is hard - Lee’s your closest friend,”

“He is not -”

“I’m not that fucker’s best friend,”

“I didn’t say best friend did I?! You’re close, okay! And I’m your sister, maybe of you read a book you’d know this happens a lot,”

“What?”

“Ask Amanda, she writes Y/A novels…”

“Getting off track darlin’,” Lee nudges

“Right! Anyway, I like Lee, and I can do whatever the hell I want! So get the hell out so he can bend me over this desk ,”

“Ew!”.

“That’s my girl,”. 

[scarlethexelove]

If possible could you do a intersex kate bishop x Stark fem reader where Kate and reader are rivals with alot of tension towards each other and soon they begin to have a argument/fight that turns into a love confession with reader and Kate ending up sleeping together and reader becoming pregnant with Kate's child

I Love You, You Idiot

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 4804

Warnings: Intersex Kate, Little bit of angst, Smut, Some fluff, being shot, being trapped, Kate's got a big dick (Yes that needs to be a warning in itself), unexpected pregnancy, throwing up, blood draw, soft protective Tony, Mentions of torture, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of being skinned, Scars, Kind of a frenemies vibe, P in V, unprotected sex, Little bit rough sex, Choking, Maybe more I can't think of

Pt 2

A/n: I loved writing this one. Sorry it took so long. I knew this one was going to get long and I hope you like it. I would definitely be up for adding some more to this in the future.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You grunt as you pull yourself off the floor. Pain coursing through your shoulder, arm, and head as you look around the room. Pallets of equipment covered in tarps surround the room. A dim light only lets you see the center of the room. You look towards the exit but it is covered in rubble leaving you with no way out. Kate had shot an explosive arrow which had went terribly wrong. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Your eyes land on the raven haired girl who is dusting herself off. “What’s wrong with me? What is wrong with you? You pushed me.” Kate shoots back at you. Anger now taking over and making you forget about the pain you’re in. 

Your Dad Tony Stark sent you on this mission with Kate. You and her don’t get along, always bickering and trying to one up the other. Most of the Avengers know that you both can’t stand to be in the same room with one another so why did your father send you out with her of all people. It’s not that you don’t find the girl endearing but she just, you don’t know how to put your finger on it. This mission was supposed to be easy in and out but that all changed in a matter of moments. 

“I had to push you you idiot or did you want to fucking die?” You scoff as you jump and sit on one of the pallets. Grimacing when you poke at the bullet wound adorning your left arm not even being able to lift it to get a better look at the wound. Kate’s features soften for a moment as she sees your condition. You look up at her and see her shifting as she looks at you just causing you to scowl. “Oh so you had a death wish, got it. Next time leave me the fuck out of it.” Kate quickly snaps out of it. “If you hadn’t pushed me then we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Her arms cross over her chest as she huffs. You roll your eyes. “Kate, that agent would have shot you if I hadn’t pushed you out of the way.” You notice how Kate’s nostrils flare when she is angry. “I would have been fine. I would have gotten him.” 

Your patience is already wearing thin as your arm bleeds and you can now feel blood trickling down your face from your head. “He would have killed you, but I took the damn bullet.” You shake your head at the other girl and she shakes her head. “I could have gotten him.” You groan at her arrogance. “No you wouldn't, you didn’t even see him.” Kate just scoffed. She doesn’t want to admit she is wrong and that you are right. “Well if he was going to kill me why did you save me hmm? I thought you hated me.” Kate counters. You don't know what to say. You don’t hate her at all. Yes she annoys the hell out of you but she is a good person and someone that you can rival with. “Why did you do it Y/n?” She raises her voice. When you still stay quiet she yells. “Why the fuck did you save me if you hate me so much?” 

“Because I fucking love you you idiot!” You yell back before going quiet and looking down. You honestly didn’t expect for that to come out of you and neither did Kate. Her jaw dropped as the room was completely silent. It takes her a moment to comprehend what you said. “W-what.” That is when the panic starts to build in you. You just told Kate that you love her. You hadn’t even accepted the fact in your mind before your heart took over and made you yell it out. Kate couldn’t lie she has always found you attractive and hated to admit that she was falling for you even though you bicker all the time. She just thought nothing could ever happen since you obviously hated her but she knows that she was wrong now. 

You can’t bring yourself to look at her as you try to take part of your suit off. You need to check your wound and you want to forget that you just admitted feeling you haven’t fully grasped. “I-It’s nothing.” You mumble. You whimper when you can’t get your suit from off your shoulder. 

Kate snaps out of her stupor when she hears you whimper in pain. She quickly makes her way over to you. “I think your shoulder is dislocated.” You hadn’t noticed how close Kate had gotten until you looked up startled. You don’t say anything and just nod. “Let me help.” You want to push her away and deal with it yourself but you know you can’t so you just nod again. “Okay.” 

Kate looks over you to assess your injuries. When her explosive arrow went off it sent you flying into the wall. Your shoulder taking most of the impact and your head hitting against the wall. Blood drips down your face from the cut on your head. A sliver of it peaking through your hairline. All of the anger washes away as she sees the bullet wound adorning your arm. You were right and she might have been dead if you hadn’t pushed her out of the way. Your left side taking the brunt of all your injuries. Kate uses what Clint has taught her in order to treat you in the field. She helps get your suit down until it is sitting around your hips but you are wearing a long sleeve black shirt underneath. Kate hesitates before asking. “May I?” 

You’re worried about Kate seeing you without your shirt on. Some of your past is only known to a select few outside of your immediate family. Four people to be exact Fury, Steve, Natasha, and Wanda. But you know for her to be able to help you she needs more access so you nod once again. A lump forming in your throat as she carefully removes your shirt. If she sees the scars she isn’t letting on but you know she can see them and you're thankful that she isn’t bringing attention to them. 

It’s mostly silent other than your grunts and whimpers of pain as Kate pops your shoulder back in place and dresses your wounds. Leaving you thankful for the silence but the room is tense. Once Kate is done you look up at her and give her a soft smile. “Thank you.” It’s barely above a whisper but she hears it. Kate is about to speak before you cut her off. “I’m sorry.” Tears shine in your eyes not meeting her gaze. So many emotions are flooding you and you are struggling to hold onto one. “What for?” Kate asks you. “For everything. I was mean and spiteful to you for no reason. Well, more like I was scared.” Kate’s gaze softens. “Scared of what?” You struggle to find the right words to say. “Scared of what you would think of me. Scared of feelings that I don’t understand.” You look up at her and she sees the tears shining in your eyes. “I thought if I pushed you away and just was, I don’t know meaner to you I could just get rid of those feelings. I thought it would be better if you just hated me instead. But instead you made me fall for you more and I know that now. You don’t have to accept anything from me and you can hate me. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.” 

Kate takes the chance she cups your cheeks leaning in and kissing you. You're surprised but soon reciprocate the kiss. You don’t even realize how heated the kiss has gotten until Kate pulls away and you're breathing heavier. She leans her forehead against yours and whispers. “I love you too Y/n.” You look into her eyes for any hint of doubt but all you find is truth. Kate pulls back slightly her hands moving to your waist. Your legs wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer just wanting to feel closer to her. 

That is when you feel it. Her bulge in her pants and you can tell just from the short make out session that it definitely stirred something within her. Kate notices that you can tell and starts to pull away. “I-I’m sorry.” You wrap your legs around her tighter and shake your head. “I want you Kate, please.” You grind your hips lightly making the other girl groan. “R-right here?” You don’t know where some of this confidence has come from but with your good arm you cup her cheek in your hand and rub gently. “Katie we are kind of stuck here and I just want to feel you.” Your words flipping a switch in her grip on your waist tightening. “Fuck.” She groans. 

Kate is quick to help rid you of the rest of your suit. Tossing it to the side already sees a wet patch forming on your underwear. She bites her lip admiring your body. You normally would be self conscious of your body but the look in Kate’s eyes has that washing away. Letting yourself be vulnerable with her. She doesn’t seem to care about the scars that litter your body. She only sees the beauty in your strength. 

A finger hooks into the waistband of your underwear as Kate slides them down your thighs until they fall to the ground. Your body is now naked in front of the fully dressed woman but not for long. Kate eagerly strips down until she is only in a sports bra and boxers. You can see her cock straining against the fabric. You reach out for her, wanting her to come closer, but she takes her time. Finally pulling her boxers down and letting her cock spring free. She is much larger than you had expected. Kate notices your look of shock which makes her feel a little self conscious. She is about to step back when you reach for her again. “Katie.” She hesitates for a moment so you speak again. “I’ve never taken anything… anyone so big before.” Kate relaxes, finally stepping closer to you, slotting herself between your legs. “If at any point it becomes too much, let me know and I’ll stop.” She gets closer, the tip of her cock bumping your clit making you groan. 

“Please Katie.” Your need and want for her taking over. Kate just chuckles with one hand on her cock as she looks down slowly, swiping it through your folds. Coating it in your juices. She hasn’t even done anything yet and you're already a dripping mess. She is entranced by your dripping pussy as she keeps teasing you. You whine a little and buck your hips but that doesn’t stop her teasing. You start to grow frustrated. “Stop teasing and just fuck me already.” You're barely able to get the words out before Kate is thrusting her length into you. Her cock splitting you open and stretching your walls further than ever before. 

“O-oh fuck.” You gasp. Kate takes a minute with her hands going back to grip at your hips. “Shit so fucking tight.” Kate starts to ease out before pushing back in. A painfully delicious stretch as she picks up speed. Small breathy moans start tumbling from your lips as Kate pistons her hips into you. Kate looks from where you two are connected looking at your already blissed out face. Your mouth hangs slightly open as moans continue to fall from your lips. “Fuck so this is how I get you to shut up pretty girl. Fucking your tight little hole with by big cock.” You can’t help the blush that rises as you nod your head words escaping you. 

Kate tests the waters with you a little bit as one of her hands moves up to your neck wrapping around it loosely. Your eyes widen and with a particularly hard thrust from Kate you moan. She applies some pressure to your throat causing another moan to be caught in your throat. Your head falling back and your arm wrapping around Kate and digging your nails into her back causing her to moan. You like the sound of her moan so you scratch down her back and clench around her length. More moans tumbling from her lips. Your combined moans bouncing off the walls as Kate continues fucking herself into you. 

“Mmmm K-Kate.” Your words breathy as the knot grows tighter. Kate's hand is still firm around your neck as she drives her hips into yours. “Fuck you feel so good around me baby girl.” Kate leans in kissing you. You moan into her mouth giving her access, allowing her tongue to explore your mouth. Your legs pull her closer to you as your nails draw blood on her back. You're both so close. Kate’s thrust becomes sloppy as she draws near. You grind your hips into hers looking for your release. 

“Wanna cum baby girl?” Kate mumbles against your lips. Trying desperately to hold her own orgasm back wanting to see and feel you fall apart for her. “Mmm please.” You whimper. “Cum for me.” Kate demands. Your vision blurs and your legs shake around her hips. Your nails racking down her back leaving angry red lines cuming harder than you have ever cum before gushing around her cock which just sets Kate off. Her hips stutter as she paints your walls white. Her thrust slows as she continues to cum. Filling you so full there is a slightly large bulge on your lower abdomen and her cum leaking out around her cock. You have never felt this full in your life but it’s a feeling that you could get used to. 

When Kate stops her hands drop from your throat as she wraps her arms around you and buries her head in your neck pulling you as close as possible. Your head falls on her shoulder as you both hold one another panting. When you both have calmed down enough Kate pulls back and looks at your disheveled state finding you even more beautiful than before. “That was…” You breathe and Kate finishes. “Wow.” Which causes you both to giggle. 

Kate slowly pulls out of you which causes you to wince and whimper. “I’m sorry.” She says hating that she could have hurt you. “It’s ok Katie, just sensitive.” You say with a small smile. She smiles back at you before her attention is drawn down. She watches as a mix of both of your cums leak out of you. Wish she could just push back into you making sure that it all stays in but she doesn’t want to hurt you. So Kate does what she can to make you more comfortable. She wanders around setting up a small place for the both of you to lay down. Once she is done she picks you up but you stop her. “Kate, I can walk.” You slap at her arm lightly. She holds up her hands in defense. You get up but your legs wobble and your knees give out. You would have hit the ground if it weren’t for Kate’s strong arms catching you. “Don’t say it.” You warn the girl. She just chuckles. 

Soon you’re both laying on the ground, you on your side that isn’t injured cuddled up into Kate’s side. Your bummed arm draped lightly over her stomach. Her arms wrapped securely around you as her fingers dance across your skin lightly brushing the large scar adorning your side. You know that she is just absentmindedly just doing it but you feel safe with her. Your head that was laying on her chest now propped up on your chin looking at the raven haired girl. “Would you like to know?” You question her, your words soft. Kate smiles at you. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” 

You lay your head back on her chest and let out a deep sigh. “When I was 13 a group of men kidnapped me. The daughter of the great Tony Stark should be able to get access to all the money and weapons they desire. I don’t know why they thought a 13 year old would have that but I guess they weren’t all that smart. When I couldn’t give them what they wanted they tortured me.” You have to pause for a second letting out a shaky breath. Kate is listening and holding you close for comfort. “I was there for a week with little food or water. Right before my Dad found me they took a large knife and literally skinned my side. They um, they sent it to my Dad which actually helped him find me. For as dumb as they were, they were also good at hiding. Not many people know outside of my Mom and Dad. Only Fury, Steve, Natasha, and Wanda and well I guess now you.” 

You nuzzle into Kate’s chest trying to stop the tears from falling. You can hear Kate sniffle causing you to look up at her and see the tears shining in her eyes. Her other hand moves up to cup your cheek. “I’m so sorry that happened to you Y/n/n.” You give her a reassuring smile. “It’s ok. I um still go to therapy for it and still have some nightmares but they have gotten better.” She leans in and kisses your forehead. The room grows silent as you both lay in each other's embrace. 

Your eyes flutter closed as you grow close to sleep but you're woken when you hear a voice and not of Kate’s. Your com is sitting on top of your clothes. You quickly crawl over to it and stick it in your ear. “Y/n/n are you there? Please be there.” You hear your Dads voice come through the com. “Dad?” You question hoping you're not just hearing things. “Thank god you’re alive. Are you hurt? Is Kate there with you?” He asks quickly. “Yes Dad, we are ok.” You tell him as Kate is behind you rubbing her hand up and down your back. “Y/n is injured but I patched her up the best I can.” You can’t help but look back at her and scowl which just causes her to smirk. “Shit, okay. We have your tackers and we are working to get you two out of there. I’ll have medical on standby.” You huff. “Dad, I'm fine.” Kate talks over you. “No, she was shot.” Your head shoots back to look at her again. “It was nothing.” Your Dad is silent for a moment. “Medical will be ready to look you over when we get you out. We should get to you in less than an hour.” You nod your head like your Dad can see you but you realize he can’t. “Okay see you soon.” 

You push Kate when you stop talking to your dad. “I just want to help you baby girl.” You can’t help but sigh knowing that she is right. Your cheeks are also heating up from hearing her call you that which just makes the girl smirk at you. So you push her playfully. You both quickly get dressed Kate helping you get dressed as you wait to be rescued. 

—---------

You’re sitting in the lab with your Dad as you work on upgrades for yours and Nat’s weapons. You even have some ideas for Kate which makes you smile to yourself. But the smile soon falls when the familiar feeling in your stomach has you stopping. The tools once in your hands clatter on the counter as you lung for the trashcan. With the trash can now grasped in your hands and propped on your lap the small amount of content in your stomach is thrown up. Tony is behind you in seconds rubbing his hand up and down your back.

Once you're done throwing up you set the trashcan back down and wipe your lips. “If I didn’t know any better I would think you were pregnant. You’ve been sick the last few days kiddo.” Tony says as he tries to comfort you. But his words spark something inside of you. You think back. It has been two months since the mission and you and Kate had sex. You’re just now realizing that you haven’t had your period either. 

You start to panic as you realize that your Dads words more than likely ring true. Tony watches your expression change. You get up and start to move around the lab. Tony grabs you and stops you in your tracks. “Hey kiddo calm down.” His hands are on your shoulder. You look up to him with tears in your eyes. “I-I need to go to the store.” He knows what you want and shakes your head. “We can do a blood test here in the lab. It is much more accurate than those tests.” You give your dad a small nod. He leads you over to his work area having you sit as he gets ready to draw your blood. You're both quiet as he sets up. As he starts taking your blood he speaks. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.” You sigh and look down. “It’s complicated Dad.” He is silent for a moment as he pulls the needle out and places a piece of gauze on the spot. You hold it there and pull your arm back. “Are you going to tell me who it is?” He asks you but you stay silent.

As Tony starts running the test you go and brush your teeth before coming back to the silent room and continuing your work. Trying everything to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling in your gut. You don’t know how much time has passed. It feels like it is going slow and fast at the same time. You're brought back to reality when the computer beeps. You watch as your Dad rolls over to the computer screen and pulls up the results. You can’t see through his head but you're scared to look. It’s not that you don’t want kids, it is the fact you didn’t expect to have any right now and you’re not even dating Kate. 

Tony rolls out of the way and angels the screen towards you. The screen shows pregnant. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes as they move to your Dad’s face. You can’t tell what he is feeling at the moment but all you do is start to cry. “I-I’m sorry Daddy. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to.” You don’t even know why you're crying but just as before Tony is to you in seconds this time wrapping his arms around you tightly as you cry into his chest. He reassures you as he holds you close. Once you start to calm down he speaks up again. “Do you want to keep it?” You nod as you pull back a little and look up at him. There is a small smile on his face. “Now are you going to tell me who fucked my daughter?” You push at him a little as he chuckles which just brings a smile to your face. You know you are going to have to tell him because you have to tell Kate but you're still a little scared and you know if you don’t do it now you won’t have the courage. 

“Promise you won’t get mad?” You look at Tony who is still holding you in his arms. “Was it an Avenger?” He questions you. You pull back from him and wipe some of the tears off your face. “Please don’t be mad.” You tell him. “You fucked another Avenger!” He exclaimed. “Dad, if you don’t promise me that you aren’t going to be mad and respectful, I'm not going to tell you.” Tony grumbles but agrees. You let out a sigh before speaking again. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” It is quiet for a moment. “Yes Miss. Stark?” A female voice is heard overhead. “Can you please ask Kate to please come down to the lab.” You don’t dare to look at your Dad as you talk. “Right away Miss. Stark.” 

When you finally meet your Dad’s gaze his mouth is hanging open in shock. Everyone knew that you and Kate didn’t get along so how could it be her. Though most have noticed that since your mission with her and being trapped together your dynamic has changed. You two wanted to keep things private and navigate these changes without the others knowing. So in front of the others you two were friendlier with one another but spent time together to get to know one another in private. Most just figured you two being trapped together changed things for you both but this wasn’t on their bingo cards for sure. 

The door creaks open bringing your attention to the Raven hair girl that walks through the door. Kate notices the tear stains on your face and her gaze softens. “Is everything okay? F.R.I.D.A.Y. said you were looking for me.” She looks between you and Tony and she can see the obvious scowl on his face. You give her a short nod before speaking up. “Dad, can you give us the room?” But he doesn’t move, still scowling at the other girl. “Dad you promised.” He grumbles and moves to leave. “Don’t try anything funny with my daughter, I'll be watching you.” He says to Kate as he walks by before heading out the door. He has always been protective over you and even more so of your sister so it is no surprise that he is acting like this. 

“Y/n/n what's wrong?” Kate asks you but you don’t say anything, just taking her hand and walking her over to the screen. You drop her hand as you turn the screen for her to read. You drop your head not wanting to see her reaction. Not wanting to see her upset with you. The room goes silent once again as the results of the screen sink in. “You.. You’re pregnant?” Kate questions. You finally look up at her as tears that you didn’t even know were there start slipping down your face. You nod. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t m-mean for-” Your cut off when Kate wraps her arms around you and picks you up spinning you around. 

You have to tell her to stop and put you down before you throw up all over her. She quickly puts you down but doesn’t let you go. “I’m sorry.” You mumble looking down. Kate removes one of her arms from around you and makes you look up at her. “Why are you sorry?” You can see genuine excitement in her eyes but also the concern she has for you. “Because I got pregnant.” You tell her feeling disappointed in yourself. She just shakes her head at you with a soft smile on her face. “You don’t need to be sorry for that. It takes two to make a baby and last time I checked I wasn’t the only one who came that day.” Her words make you blush a little and she chuckles. “I want kids more than anything baby girl and I would love to have them with you if that is what you wanted.” 

You can’t help the happy tears that fall. “More than anything.” You mumble. You were so scared before but now all you have is excitement for a new chapter. Kate leans in capturing your lips with hers. The kiss becomes heated quickly as Kate pulls you closer, but you're both broken apart when you hear banging on the glass. You pull back looking past Kate at your Dad who is banging on the glass walls of the lab. You wave him off knowing that he is grumbling to himself. You both laugh at the situation before Kate gives you another quick peck. 

Kate looks down at you love and desire in her eyes. She moves one of her hands onto your stomach with a smile, her gaze on your stomach before looking back up at you. “Y/n Stark will you be my girlfriend?” You shed some more tears as you smile and nod. “I would love nothing more than that.” You kiss Kate again before pressing your foreheads together basking in the moment and the excitement of what is to come next on this new journey.

[szasfuckingwife]

SHAWTY FUCK WIT’ ME CUZ SHE KNOW I’M POPULAR

RICHBOY!EREN YEAGER X RICHGIRL!READER

WARNINGS: Smut, car sex, Jean tryna sabotage eren and y/n, swearing, weed, jealous sex, Jealous eren

SYNOPSIS: You and Eren have started your relationship and have become exclusive, but when Jean finds out, he decides that he wants you for himself..

A/N: I wanted to release this on the day i hit 1k but it’s cool💀 I made two drafts for pt 2, this and one and another one where eren invited Y/n over for dinner at his parents and she meets zeke. I dunno if i like this draft as much but I decided to release it cuz car sex wit eren???

This is pt2 of Soundgasm

It’s been months, and in those months , you’ve spent them with Eren. Yes, it was semi fucking, semi talking but it was with Eren nonetheless. Of course, you didn’t want to make it obvious to your parents that you were seeing someone- if you can even call it that. But, if you had the choice, you’d chill with Eren everyday.

Yet again, you were at the country club. Except this time, you were more than happy. Mainly due to Eren being behind you, holding your hands as you held the club. You swore that Eren couldn’t distract you when you were golfing and he put you to the test.

You couldn’t stop giggling as he kissed your neck and rested his chin on your shoulder, “Eren, you’re gonna make me miss it.”

“I thought you were the best golfer here?”, he put his cap on your head. His head was definitely bigger than yours. Despite that, he found it cute how it looked on you.

However, inside the country club building, a tall brunette stared at the touchy scene in front of him. It was his friend - or more frenemie - kissing on some girl. He’s seen you before from time to time. Jealousy didn’t show on his face but he was definitely feeling it inside.

“Jean, bro…is that Eren?” Connie, another teenager asked Jean. You’ve met Connie before, he’s a little to weird for you and quite literally the definition of ‘spoiled brat’. Splashing his parents cash as if it was spare change.

Jean nodded, “Who’s the girl?”

“That’s Y/N. I didn’t know they were close like that.” Connie raised a brow, scratching his bald head.

“I didn’t know that there was a ‘they’ anyway…” Jean muttered, pulling down his Cartier aviators.

You see, Jean didn’t love Eren. Yeah, that was his friend from middle school. And yes, they’d had a happy friendship until they grew into teenagers. Jean thought Eren would stay on the hockey team, like he promised. And when Eren turned around and joined the basketball team, getting all these offers angered Jean.

Not enough for Jean to be praying on Erens downfall, but enough for Jean to think that maybe, just maybe, you’d be happier with him.

When you guys finished golfing, Eren took you over to the bar, paying for both of your drinks. “You gonna come to my game this Saturday?”

“I haven’t missed one this season..” You smiled at him, causing butterflies to float in his stomach. “I don’t see why I’d miss this one.”

Eren loved when you came to his games. You were his motivation. Yeah, because he didn’t want to lose and embarrass himself in front of the girl he was so close calling his girlfriend. But, seeing your smile after scoring was enough for him.

“I’ll see if coach can get you better seats this time. What did your parents think of the last game-” “Eren!”

When you looked behind him, you saw three people walk up to you. Constance, who you’ve met, was smiling, dressed in a large, navy blue varsity jacket with a white hoodie underneath and the same coloured cargoes.

There was a brown haired girl, who you haven’t met. She wore a casual lilac summer dress with her hair up in a ponytail. Her eyes were huge, in a cute way. She smiled at you, her cheeks rosy and round.

The guy in the middle of them was the tallest out of the three of them, he may be taller than Eren. There were striking similarities between the two however. For starters, they were both tall, brunettes, pretty eyes. He wore a tight long sleeved white top and some joggers. There was no doubt about it, he was definitely intimidating but weirdly, he wore a smile on his face.

“You didn’t tell me you’ve got a girl..” The taller boy wrapped his arm around Erens neck. You saw him put a little bit of pressure as Eren began chuckling. “All grown up now, huh?”

“Shut up, Jean..” Eren responded, smiling after seeing his best friend. “Y/N, this is Jean, Sasha and Connie.”

They all smiled at you and you gave one back. “Connie? Is that a nickname?” You asked.

“Don’t tell me he gave you that bullshit about his name being Constance.” Jean cackled, his friend’s cheek going red with embarrassment. “It’s a name his grandma gave him and she’s the only reason why he can call himself a quarter Dominican.”

Connie barked out insults at Jean earning a few heads to turn towards your group at the bar. You all continued to laugh. Jean especially payed close attention to your smile and how pretty it looked.

After you all had your drinks, you all chose to chill outside, soaking up in the sun. A conversation had already begun but, it was mainly Jean giving Eren shit.

“I told you if you stayed doing hockey, we would’ve made it big.” Jean sighed as Eren rolled his eyes for the nth time.

“You do hockey?” You ask.

He smiles at your curiosity, “Yeah, I do. Our team are on our third championship and hopefully, getting our fourth by next Friday.”

Eren watches as Jean continues to babble about hockey. He sees the face he makes. That one face where he seems unbothered but Jean’s really trying to impress you.

“I see you do golf. Well, we all did this morning.” As Jean spoke, Connie held back laughter, disguising it with a cough. Sasha seemed to be confused to and nudged Connie, hoping he’d tell her.

It took a few minutes before you realised they probably saw you and Eren playing together. A shy laugh leaves your mouth, “It was just practice. Eren’s a little rusty…”

“Oh, he’s rusty in golf too? He was rusty in the court too is what I’m hearing.” The table falls into silence after Jeans dig at Eren. You fear Eren will retaliate, cause a scene. But all Eren does is chuckle as he eats the last of his sorbet.

“Who you hearin that from?” Eren asked.

“People in your team, Yeager.” Jean smirks.

The tension that was now at your table couldn’t even be cut with a knife, it’d need something much greater. You can barely hear anyone breathe let alone talk.

You look at Eren, attempting to get him to look at you back but, he doesn’t

However, Connie clears his throat after a few seconds of silence, “Well, Eren I know you have a game on Saturday which is why I’m being so generous and throwing a party on Sunday. And of course, Y/n and yourself are invited.”

It took a lot of convincing from you in order for Eren to say yes to going to Connie’s party. He was filled with excuses, ‘i’ll be too tired from the game’ and ‘Connies parties are too much’. But once he heard you say you wanted to go so you can meet his friends, he knew it was just out of the kindness of your heart.

So, on Sunday, Eren picks you up in his Mercedes - what he didn’t mention was that he begged his father to give him the car so he could impress you.

It did kinda hurt when you didn’t gawk at his car but he didn’t mind it. Maybe you just weren’t impressed by material items.

When he pulled up to Connies house, you were both immediately met with a loud bass that shook the whole neighbourhood. Eren sighed before walking into the house, he wasn’t a frequent party guy but he enjoyed them.

As soon as you walked in, the smell of weed and alcohol met your nostrils. Random people were all over each other, kissing, grinding or shotgunning. Eren made sure your hand was in his at all times, he didn’t want one of these weirdos talking to you.

“I-Is that Eren Yeager?!” Connie walked up to the two of you with open arms. It took you by surprise how he hugged the both of you. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I didn’t want to.” Eren muttered.

“Your house is beautiful, Connie. Why would your parents let you do this?” You chuckled.

You saw Connie’s eyes shift left and right before he shrugged. “They don’t know.” He saw your mouth open as you were about to say something. “And they don’t need to know.”

You sighed before Connie asked if you guys wanted any drinks and went to go get you something. Eren said something but due to the very loud music drowning him out, you replied with a “What?!”.

“Come dance!” He said. “Need to let everyone know you’re mine..”

A smirk grew on your face as you realised what this all was about. “Is Eren Yeager jealous?”

Eren quickly looked away. He doesn’t get jealous, mainly because he’s used to getting what he wants when he wants. And God help whoever tries to take that away from him.

After Connie came back with drinks, you let loose. The alcohol made you less reserved, causing you to start new conversations with randoms around the house.

Eren doesn’t usually dance but when he felt you grind against his crotch, Eren suddenly felt some rhythm in his legs. It was almost like you were right back on the field having him help you practice with golf.

This scene was a little more intimate and a little more risqué. His hot breath hit your neck before he kissed it. You felt his strong hands grip on your hips subtly moving your hips to where he wanted them.

It was getting way too hot. You turned around and looked at him in the eye. His pretty eyes were lidded as he looked down at you. The corner of his lips were curled up into a grin, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You whisper into his ear. “Afterwards, I want you to take me somewhere - anywhere - and fuck me…”

Eren watched as you walked away so innocently. Sweetly asking Connie where’s the bathroom and politely asking people to excuse you.

He’d fulfil your wish.

Unexpectedly, you were met with a long queue to Connies bathroom. You weren’t even sure if some of the people in the line were even there to go to the bathroom but rather for a quickie.

“I know he doesn’t know you that well but Connie really made you use this bathroom…?” A low voice spoke behind you. When you turned around, Jean stood with a grin plastered on his face.

You chuckle, “There’s another bathroom?”

Jean puts his index finger by his lips, “Don’t tell everyone.” He whispers causing you to giggle. “It’s his parent’s on suite. Come, I’ll take you.”

Nothing was stopping you from following him. You were desperate for the toilet and the quicker you can do your business, the quicker you can get back to Eren.

Jean opens the door, holding it open for you to pass.

“That one…” He points at the door and you thank him before running to the bathroom. You finish your business and look in the mirror to take a good look at your appearance.

All that dancing had done something to your make up. You chuckle as you notice how your eye bags seemed slightly darker from your mascara and how your lip gloss was slightly smudged.

Once you leave the bathroom, you were met with Jean sitting on Connie’s parent bed, lighting a blunt. His eyes were on you as he placed it in between his lips.

“You’re gonna get Connie in trouble when his parents come home and their bed smells like weed..” You chuckle, finding a place on the bed to sit.

He shrugs, “The windows are up. Besides, they love me. I’m like the golden child in their eyes.”

You chuckle. The atmosphere was strange. Jean seemed like a chill guy but he was definitely arrogant in some way. All thoughts left your mind, however, when Jean took the blunt out of his lips and passed it to you.

“Nah, I don’t..smoke..” You smiled. “You shouldn’t either, Mr championship hockey player. It’s bad for your lungs and shit.”

He shakes his head grinning. “I don’t do it often. It’s just tonight, I wanna relax.”

“You better not do it often. When you make it big, it might be detrimental.” You mutter. Jean sees the way you play with your fingers and he can’t tell if you’re nervous or if that’s a habit.

Whatever it is, it’s cute.

“When I make it big, huh? What makes you think I’ll make it big?” He asks, he moves himself slightly closer to you but not too close where you’re uncomfortable.

You look at him. “You have an athlete persona. And, the way you were making it sound in the country club, you were destined for greatness.”

Jean shrugs, as if he doesn’t care. But he’s smiling in his head because he knows he’ll make it big. All the offers and scholarships piled at his front door aren’t just imaginary.

“Nah..” Jean chuckles. “I been playin since I could walk it feels like. My mom…she wasn’t filthy rich when I was born so it was hard to get me lessons. But when she slowly became richer, I’ve been at the top of my game. I owe it all to her, really.”

A smile adorns your face as you hear him talk about his mother. “How about you? I hear you do…golf?”

You then go on to ramble how you’ve been playing golf for a little over ten years now and how everyone thinks it’s boring, but it’s fun for you.

“And, you teaching Eren how to golf now?” He looks at you smugly. Something was telling you that Eren would be brought up. “He never seemed that interested before he met you I assume.”

You shrug, “He’s…good. But yeah, basketball is his thing. Golf is definitely mine.” You chuckle but Jean doesn’t. He just grins, and looks away.

The room falls silent as Jean continues to smoke, “You like him?”

The question almost catches you off guard, was it not clear in the country club?, “Yeah…I really do. He’s been great.”

Your answer leaves Jean a little more jealous than he should be. However, he does nothing but chuckle. “I’ve seen this happen so many times, y’know?”

“Seen what happen?”

He looks at you, blankly, “Eren gets a girl to fall in love with him and in the end, he leaves them for dust. It’s happened to that girl, Historia? Don’t know if you know her?”

Jean knew that what he was saying was a lie. Well, it was a half lie. Eren and Historia briefly dated and it was a very nasty break up. It was filled with toxicity from both parties and the relationship would’ve rot had it continued. But that was Eren’s first toxic relationship.

Ask any of his previous girlfriends, apart from Historia, they’d tell you that he was the one that got away.

“No..No, I don’t.” You answer. Was everything Eren told you a lie? Like how he’s never felt like this about anyone? Was it all just bullshit?

The conversation that was ahead didn’t appeal to you, so you stood from the bed. “Thanks for the conversation, Jean. It was nice getting to know you.”

He stands too, “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have said all that about Eren. It’s none of my business…It’s the weed talkin..”

“No, you might’ve just opened my eyes a little.” You sigh, walking to leave the bedroom.

When you open the door, you were met with those same pretty eyes you’d been looking at for months. He looks at you, then behind you to see Jean. You can see him mentally try to connect the dots, but it’s too late. It didn’t help that your lip gloss was smudged.

“Eren..” You say, before he storms away.

You follow Eren outside as he marches back to his car. Obviously, from his perspective, he’s seen the girl he likes and his friend in a room that smells of weed. And, your lip gloss smudged.

But you have questions of your own. “Eren, stop..”

“Just get in the car, I’ll drop you home.” He sighs as he opens his side of the car. Normally, he’d walk over and open your door first. But he’s mad, furious.

The car ride starts off silent. Well, for the most part. The roading chants from Connie’s house echo throughout the driveway.

“Did you make out with him? Or fuck him?” He asks, like it’s an ordinary question.

You look at him in disbelief, “You’re not serious..”

“What? I’m seeing my girl and my friend in a room, what am I supposed to think?” He scoffs.

In any other situation, the way Eren called you ‘my girl’ would make your cheeks grow warm. But now is not the time, “I can’t speak to one of your friends?”

“Was that you were doing?” Eren asks sarcastically.

“Yeah, it was. And the things he told me about you surprised me the most.” You scoff back at him before crossing your arms and staring out the window.

Eren stays silent for a second, “What’d he say?”

“We talked about Historia. And how that and every other relationship you’ve had was toxic as hell.”

If Eren wasn’t driving, he’d snap his head to look at you in total disbelief. What Eren were you guys talking about? Because it surely isn’t Eren Yeager.

The same Eren Yeager who picked flowers from his mothers flowerbed to give to his first girlfriend before she cheated on him? Or the same Eren Yeager who was left soaked after giving girlfriend no.2 his jacket when it was raining like crazy?

“Y/N, I know you’re smart, c’mon..” He sighs. “He’s only saying that so you look at me differently.”

“And why would he-” “Because he’s attracted to you, Y/N!” He says, at this point he’s beyond annoyed. Finding out Jean was trying to jeopardise his new relationship was enough, but finding out you believed him?! Icing on the cake.

Once Eren says those words, it’s like everything clicked for you. That’s why he threw shade at eren at the country club.

“Ask any ex of mine, I was nothing but good to them..” Eren sighs. “Historia…Historia was the only toxic one. She cheated first, then I cheated. And yeah, I regret it. But…I was hurt.”

You look at him, full of regret. “I’m…I’m sorry, for not believing you..”

He shakes his head. “It’s whatever.”

The rest of the car ride is silent before Eren stops at a red light. You can tell this whole situation has pissed him off. But, there’s nothing you can do to regain his trust.

“One question, though..” Eren muttered. You turned to look at him straight away.

“You didn’t fuck him?”

You sighed, smiling slightly. “No, Eren. I barely even looked at him.”

“Good.” He turned into a car park and parked there. “Come ride me..”

The casualness in which he said that surprised you. But, it was the least you could do. Awkwardly, you made your way to sit on his lap.

Eren grabbed the back of your neck and pushed your face towards his, inviting you into a lengthy and sloppy kiss. His anger was radiating from the kiss alone as his other hand began to grab your ass from behind.

You felt his pull your skirt up slightly so he could grab your panties. That’s when you heard a loud rip. You immediately felt the absence of your panties but you didn’t care. For now, all that mattered was making him feel good.

“Eren..I want you..” Eren smiled into the kiss after hearing your words. His hands went down to his joggers, pulling them down so his dick sprung out.

It was hard and throbbing against you. “Maybe we should argue more often.” He smiled at you, before kissing you again.

The feeling if Eren’s cock sliding in between your folds made you crazy. You wanted nothing but for him to thrust inside you, but you knew that you couldn’t be too impatient.

“This is what you wanted, hm? Talking to my friends, tryna get me jealous so I could fuck you like a whore, huh?” He whispered in your ear. You didn’t answer, the feeling of Eren against you making you unable to form words. “Answer me, Y/N.”

You nod, biting your lip. Suddenly, you feel a sharp slap on your bare ass. “Y/N, you’ve been pissing me off all night, use your words.”

“Yes!” You whimper. “I just wanted you to fuck me..”

Eren knows that was the case all along. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have grind on him like no one was watching.

Finally, Eren pushes his cock inside you. You gasp at the feeling, gripping onto his shoulders tightly. Eren smirks as your hips begin to rock, slowly but it feels amazing.

A string of moans leave your plump lips. Eren groans at the way your pussy tightens around him ever so slightly. “You’re fucking mine, okay?”

You nod again, forgetting how Eren wants you to speak. He thrusts up into you roughly, earning a loud moan from you. His strokes are quick and satisfying. You feel like you’re gonna cum before he abruptly stops.

“Ren..” You whine.

“You want me to fuck you like that? Then, fucking speak when I’m talking to you.” His voice is low as he tells you what he wants.

You begin to bounce on his cock. Obviously, it’s quite cramped because cars aren’t made for sex. But you make it work. Eren’s hands grip tightly on your hips as you speed up.

And Eren so badly wants to rip your shirt to see your beautiful boobs. But he knows hes dropping you back to your parents.

So, he settles for pulling up your top, exposing your tits. He greedily sucks and kisses all over them. If your mind wasn’t already scrambled by his dick, this would send you.

“Eren, fuck..feels too good..” You whimper.

He notices you slowing down and slaps your ass again, “Don’t slow down. You were talking all that shit earlier, like you know shit..”

A whine leaves your mouth again as you try to bounce on his cock as feverishly as you did before. But you just don’t have that much energy.

“You need some help, huh?” He asks and you mewl out a small, ‘please’.

Immediately, you feel Eren snap his hips up into you, fucking you hard and deep. You lose your breath for a second before gnashing your teeth down on your lip, attempting to muffle your moans.

His lips are back on your tits and then they travel up to your neck, hard enough to leave marks. You try to stop him, realising that if your parents see a hickey, they’d be angry as hell. But, all efforts are futile.

“You gonna speak to Jean again?” He says, breathlessly.

“N-No!”

His hands slap your ass a few more times, “I know, baby. Because you’re mine, hm? These tits are mine, this pussy is mine, yeah?”

You nod, this time Eren doesn’t care because he so close to cumming. “You’re about to make me come, baby. I can feel you’re close.”

“I’m so fucking close, Ren..” You hug him as he fucks you even more faster than he did before. Eren groans out a ‘Fuck!’ before you cum all over him, causing him to cum too.

The car smells like pure sex as you and Eren try to regain your breath. He looks up at you and kisses you. It’s a softer kiss but it still sends butterflies to your stomach.

“Be my girlfriend.” He mutters in between kisses.

You look at him and smile. “I’d be honoured..”

[amateurasterism]

worst neighbor ever (or is he?) !

synopsis ; you’re convinced yoon jeonghan is the worst neighbor you’ve ever had…until a couple drinks help you realize he isn’t.

pairing ; yoon jeonghan + fem!reader featuring yunjin from lesserafim

notes ; non idol au, frenemies to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff, harmless and cute arguing, sort of very suggestive towards the end, reader is in denial, reader gets really drunk, jeonghan makes like two sex jokes because he’s a little shit, small mentions of eating. idk if this is a weird concept but whatever. anyways this is my first svt fic lets goo (and first fic of 2023 yay happy new years guys)

word count ; 2.6k

You have never seen Yoon Jeonghan’s face, yet you know him well enough to consider him the worst neighbor you’ve ever had.

Does seeing his face really matter to you, though? He’s the worst, and that’s all you need to know.

“You’re not listening to me, Yoon Jeonghan!”

 “I am.” Jeonghan finally responds after five minutes of you calling him from your balcony. You’ve spent much more time on this balcony than you expected, all thanks to the constant shouting you two do from your balconies.

 His voice is irritatingly calm, hinting that he’s been listening to you this entire time, but couldn’t care enough to reply as he was singing one of those stupid love songs again. Which you always considered weird, because he didn’t have a girlfriend to begin with.

 His voice is irritatingly calm, hinting that he’s been listening to you this entire time, but couldn’t care enough to reply as he was singing one of those stupid love songs again. Which you always considered weird, because he didn’t have a girlfriend to begin with.

“Could you just be quiet for just thirty fucking minutes? Although a full day would be great,” you add the last part under your breath.

 “I heard that.”

 “Good. I can’t stand you.”

 “You don’t mean that, if you did, you would’ve talked to the landlord and filed a complaint already,” Jeonghan replies, a tease in his voice, because when was there not? You hate that you know he was right too.

 You sigh and accept the defeat. “Would it kill you to sing a quiet song inside your apartment instead of outside on your balcony?” Yet another failed day of convincing him to shut up. You’ve learned to become less and less expectant of any outcome from arguing with Jeonghan. By now, the insults you share are filled with something a lot unlike hate.

 Sometimes you wonder why you even bother; you’re used to his noisiness at this point anyways. You’re failing at convincing yourself his stupid songs aren’t what help you fall asleep at night, both of you huddled on your balconies with the thickest blankets in battle of the chilly night air, Joshua’s fingers strumming his guitar lazily as you fight to keep your eyes open, your ears using Joshua’s voice to lull you to sleep. You hoped he didn’t know of your routine, for the sake of your dignity. Hopefully you were the only one aware of those nights were it felt like you, him, and the stars.

 You know all too well that Jeonghan has become a part of you. The reason why you haven’t failed at missing a day without talking to him between those balconies if that you would feel missing if you were derived of him. It was stupid to admit that, especially because… well, you had never seen his face before.

 Before you step back inside your apartment, you stop and yell, “At the very least, could you grab my mail and drop it off today? It’s a package and I have a party later.”

 Jeonghan hums curiously. “Dunno. What’s in it for me?”

 “Nothing. It’s the least you could do for being a pain in the ass everyday.”

 “Eh,” Jeonghan says dismissivley and resumes strumming his guitar.

 You don’t bother pleading anymore, entering your apartment and sliding the glass door behind you, because you know he would get your mail—in fact, he did it everytime you asked.

 —

 If there was one thing that everyone knew about you, it was that when you got drunk, you were drunk. It was not to say that you had a poor alcohol tolerance, in fact, your tolerance was quite high—but when you crossed that tolerance line with a specifically high amount of drinks, it was as if another brain took over.

 The music blasting from the surround sound speakers in the living room of your best friend’s house is only adding to your hazy mind as you try your best to make it through the crowd of bouncing people. Fuck, you mumble curses under your breath at the stench of sweaty bodies, spilled tequila, and other humanly liquids coming from couples doing some other kinds of dancing god knows where.

 “Hey, y/n!” your best friend, Yunjin, greets you near the kitchen island, but her comforting smile is quickly replaced by a concerned frown as she looks at you up and down. “Shit,” she sighs, immediately taking away the red cup in your hands and fixing your ruined outfit: your tangled hair and sheer top falling away from your slumped shoulders, and skirt that had moved a bit too much during dancing. She takes off your heels revealing sore feet with blisters just beginning to form and brings you outside to the porch.

 “Too much to drink, babes,” she chuckles. Truthfully, she’s a little happy you allowed yourself some freedom tonight. Since you moved, you’ve been holding back at parties due to your lack of a ride home.

 Yunjin holds out her hand for your phone, which you give, and dials your closest friends. Which is only a couple of people, since most of them were at this party, and none of them answer.

 She would drop you off by herself, but this was Yunjin’s house and your apartment was almost an hour away. And with the chaos ensuing inside, she didn’t want to leave the fate of her house in someone else’s hands. “Y/n, who can I call to pick you up?”

 “Mmm,” you hum absentmindedly and look at the sky, and the stars freckling it. The stars remind you of someone. Funny how you can grow on someone without seeing their face. Is it the alcohol in your system making you go insane, or did the alcohol finally bring down the fourth wall and make you realize? Suddenly all you can think about is the sound of his singing on the balcony, and his teasing voice every time you tried to shut him up. Those love songs you hated so much filling the frigid night air.

 Then, you realize, all the love songs he sang were about you.

 “Jeonghan… you idiot,” you mumble, the smallest of smiles pulling at your lip.

 “Jeonghan? Who the fuck is Jeong—” Yunjin remembers. “You’re right, I forgot. Your neighbor. Don’t you hate him though?”

 You don’t respond.

 “Doesn’t matter, because he’s your only choice.” Yunjin finds him buried in your contacts as a nameless number, but she knows it’s him from the fact he was the last person you texted.

 You’re sure the alcohol has completely taken over your brain when your legs and arms are moving to their own accord, and suddenly you’ve snatched your phone from Yunjin’s hands and have pressed it to your ear as it starts to ring. You could barely process the fact that you were smiling when Jeonghan picked up on the first ring, let alone anything you would say next.

 “I fucking love you, Yoon Jeonghan.”

 The words are out of your mouth so fast, it takes you about thirty seconds of silence between the both of you for it to register. Although for some reason, you don’t take the words back. It feels right.

 Jeonghan coughs on the other side of the phone, though you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Shut up, and tell me this when you’re sober, y/n.”

 “Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

 You hear him laugh, and if you could take that laugh and keep it with you for the rest of your life, you would. But the laugh is gone as quick as it came, replaced by his voice a tone lower, concerned laced through it.

 “Where are you, y/n?”

 Yunjin, as shocked (and happy for you) as she is, steals the phone to give him her address. “Thank you, and hurry up please. She’s…gone. I think you can tell.”

 “Yeah,” Jeonghan says with a chuckle, and true to his word, he shows up forty minutes later to find you absolutely gone sitting on the porch steps with your head leaned on Yunjin’s shoulder. He’d seen you in a collection of small glances he treasures in heart, you in the laziest of outfits in the apartments lobby getting mail, or even sneaking a tiny glance as you yelled at him form your balcony below. It was funny, because you had no idea the guy in the grey hoodie and black sweats you ran into in those small occurrences was the same guy you yelled at every day, and now confessed your love to.

 Even now, as you’re the complete opposite of how he finds you in those moments, he recognizes you in an instant. You’re just as gorgeous even with mascara just about to run past your lashes in black gunk, lipstick smeared from what he hopes not to be another guy, and a skirt rolled up a bit higher than he’d like to notice.

 He’s instantly running towards you, but stops right before his hands make it on your shoulders. His mind is yelling at him for how wrong this is, because you’ve never seen his face before. Yet, you look up at him with the most infatuated look he’s ever seen and suddenly it all feels right. He’s so caught up in that glance that he barely notices Yunjin go back into her house with a small “be safe!”

 “Come on, take it slow,” Jeonghan gently ushers you, letting you lean on his side as he guides you to his car. It’s proving to be a bit difficult as you haven’t taken an eye off of him since you’ve seen him.

 You had been wrong this whole time. Secretly, a part of you knew you wouldn’t care if he was ugly. You had fallen for him anyways and that was all that mattered. But looking at him now, you could burst into tears because even through your drunken thoughts, your entire conscious knew that his man was perfect. He had bags under his dark brown eyes, and his hoodie had fallen off to reveal his nearly black hair, grown to nearly reach his shoulders. And his lips—

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” Jeonghan teases. Of course. It was never Jeonghan unless he was teasing.

 “Because,” You stop him halfway to his car, placing your hands on his shoulders, hoping this drunk side of you will pay off, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

 Jeonghan knows it’s wrong, you’ve known him for months but have only seen his face now, and you were so drunk he wasn’t even sure any of the words you had said for the past hour were true. But he hoped they were, and took this one chance before it was stolen by tomorrow morning.

 “Then do it.”

 So you pulled him closer by the front of his hoodie and did.

 Oh.

 Oh.

 It hit like a truck: you were kissing Yoon Jeonghan, the guy you had convinced yourself was your worst neighbor until today, and it was the best damn kiss you’d ever had.

 You wanted more. You wanted him forever, and you knew it wasn’t your drunk mind thinking. Your tolerance allowed that one truth to slip, you know everything you said was true and all the alcohol did was get the feelings out.

 You stop the makeout to get air from how heated it was, but Jeonghan pulls away before he can get trapped in your lips again.

 “Stop. This isn’t right, y/n.”

 “You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

 He sighs. “You’re drunk. This isn’t actually you, as much as I wish it was.”

 “Trust me, Jeonghan. This is right. I may drunk but I know it.” You’re so painfully sure of it, and mad at him for not getting it. “So shut up and get back to kissing me already.”

 That was all it took for him to let go, and he wished on the shooting star above that he really could trust you. A part of him knew he could, and he would, for however long he lived.

 He continued kissing you again, and let’s just say that thanks to that stupid short skirt you had worn, the drive home wasn’t exactly the safest thing in the world. The skirt didn’t survive the rest of the night.

 —

 You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, a headache, and very sore legs. It took a bit of effort to get up to find Jeonghan, but you had a feeling he was on that balcony. You were right.

 You found him there with his guitar and coffees on the small table. There was even a bagel from the cafe downstairs, your favorite especially during a hangover. How did he know?

 He stopped strumming and watched you sit down on the chair next to him and take a gratefully munch on the bagel and coffee, taking note of the faintest wobble as you walked. He stifled a grin and waited for you to say the first word.

 “Thank you for the meal,” you say between bites, trying to break the tension. You know he was being hesitant, you could tell from how he was looking at you like you were a piece of pottery on display he was too afraid to break by his touch.

 Jeonghan took you being here as a sign you somehow remembered most of what happened yesterday. “This meal or last nights?” He says jokingly, a smile creeping up on his face.

 “Yoon Jeonghan!” A blush appeared over your cheeks.

 He narrowed his eyes at you then looked back at the sunrise. “I didn’t know you were a clumsy drunk.”

 “I’m not.”

 “So your sober self had planned to say you love me and proceed to get rail—”

“OKAY. I get it. Shut up.”

 Jeonghan laughs cheekily, silence covering the two of you as you watch the sunrise and listen to Jeonghan strum his guitar and hum another love song. You now know every lyric is for you.

 Somewhere along the way, your eyes strayed from the sunrise to Jeonghan, watching his long fingers pick at the strings and expertly dark across the guitar’s fretboard. Lips lifting to let out his song.

 “I love you.”

 Jeonghan looks up at you with the most lovesick expression, “A bit quick there, aren’t we? Only confessed last night, love.”

 “Well,” you shrug, “you told me to tell you again when I’m sober.”

 He hums and says nothing in return, but you don’t miss his cheeks covered in a blush, barely escaping from underneath his bangs.

 “Why though?” you ask.

 “What?”

 “Why do you like me back after everything?”

 Jeonghan doesn’t reply, but you can see his mind working through the words.

 “Why do you like me back after four months of me yelling at you? I was always scolding you, I don’t think we’ve had a single conversation where I haven’t. I only confess to you after getting drunk. It seems unfair.”

 Jeonghan stares at you, dumbfounded, and even the slightest bit angered that you see it that way.

 “Y/n, you’re a dumbass. You could give me nothing and I’d still treat you like this.”

 “Why though?”

 “Because that’s what love is. And I love you.”

one reblog = one hot neighbor

[navstuffs]

The Visitor

Pairing: Incubus!Leon Kennedy x GNSupernaturalHunter!Reader

Summary: Your mom always told you to find allies between your enemies - but your incubus consultant, Leon Kennedy, wants to be more than that.

Warning tags: SMUT with gn!reader so MINORS DNI,frenemies to lovers, sexual tension, masturbation, oral sex, penetration, excessive cum (its my headcanon for incubus so), jealousy sex (sorta)

Author's tags: we are the end of my halloween challenge! thank you so much for everyone who supported me. i am so freaking proud and happy with myself that i finally got to finish ONE thing that i commited! last one has to be smut. happy halloween!! enjoy your reading!

my halloween's masterlist

Rain starts as you drive to your home. It has been one heck of a night. The streets are empty as they should be at 2 a.m., but your senses are on high alert. You blame your genetics: coming from a legendary lineage of supernatural hunters, you were expected to become one from your early age, liking or not. It was in your blood. The problem? To be able to sniff other supernatural beings with that same skill prompts your social and love life to be awkward sometimes.

Take tonight as an example: first date with a nice fellow you met on a dating app. When you arrived, your sixth sense instantly picked a creature nearby; you shouldn't be surprised, but obviously, it came from your date. The man, a recently transformed werewolf, ended up reacting to your dangerous smell. And what was supposed to be an excellent night with you fucking your brains out ended up with an awkward goodbye, together with the silent promise of never seeing each other again.

As you park your car in front of your house, you rest your head on your wheel. It had been like this for a while: you met a nice person until you found out they were friends with a vampire or a family member who was a banshee. Your romantic life was nonexistent, which your mom would approve of: "We must remain sharp. No time for this romance bs." Says the woman who almost ran away with a vampire as a teenager.

You are so focused on your thoughts you don't pick up the familiar sensation stinging in your chest as you should. You had been around him so long that your body had started not to react in alert when you were near him. It's almost as if you are getting comfortable.

You exit your car, covering your eyes against the rain, which is getting stronger. You notice the familiar figure sitting on the steps of your porch. He has his hood on, his face partially obscured by the darkness, but you would know him from anywhere: Leon Kennedy. The incubus, you sometimes have the displeasure to work with him. You sigh, wondering what he was doing there so late.

As you approach the entrance, Leon raises his head, and you are met with a pair of enchanted blue eyes. You can feel your stomach twist in a way you are used to by now. It is not technically his fault: Leon needs to have this effect on people if he wants to feed. His eyes start from your head to your well-dressed figure, then your legs, and return to your face. You decide to ignore that and the way your body has warmed up.

"What is it? This better be important." You scoff, and Leon finally gets up, opening a small smile.

"Am I not always important?" Leon chuckles, crossing his arms, a smug smile on his lips. Attractive bastard, you think.

"Yeah, sure, sure. What is it, Kennedy?"

"And where did you come from? A date?"

"Kennedy, I really don't have time for that." You answer, impatient. Your body is telling you to get away from the "monster," and you have to trust your instincts. You search for your house key, walking past Leon and ignoring how inviting he looks tonight.

"Werewolf this time? At least it wasn't a ghoul like last time," Leon teases you, walking up behind you. You look back at him, furious, after opening the door of your house, and Leon raises his arms in a sign of defeat. "I am kidding."

"No, you are wasting my time. Goodnight, Kennedy." As you try to close the door on his face, Leon stops it. You look at him like he has gone crazy, caught off guard by the look you are met back: hungry as a hunter staring at his defenseless prey. 

The rational part of you wants to tell Leon to fuck off and close the door on his face. Advising you to remain unaffected if Leon is trying to seduce you now. But you are so tired tonight that you let the irrational one speak. The one that is needy for some sort of human contact tonight. Even if it's from a freaking demon, who pisses the crap out of you.

And to not help, the next time Leon speaks is in a much more vulnerable tone.

"Can I come in?"

Your mom's biggest piece of advice? That you should always find allies between your enemies. They were always traitor among their kind. You and Leon met by accident three years ago. Like most sex demons, he would prey on his victims in places with a strong sexual desire, like strip clubs, bars, or regular clubs.

You were there trying to find another sex demon who was killing his victims after sex, instead finding yourself in the middle of a fight between two very hungry incubus. You should have had an easy time, but a bigger fight started amongst the humans present as well. It was a mess.

Leon helped you, to your surprise. You realized he was an incubus as soon as he grabbed your hand to get you out of the middle of the mess. Your body reacted as it should to his presence: you pulled your hand away, disgusted, but simultaneously, you were affected (and you knew it). Usually, you shouldn't remain unaffected by their extreme sexual energy (they were created for that), but with Leon, it was different. You didn't know why. Leon offered to help find this killer incubus, which proved to be an easier task with him at your side.

And now you could consider him your partner. A very annoying, sexy, good-looking sex demon partner who always looked at your body with interest when he thought you weren't looking.

Like right now. You ignore again your rational part as you bend over to find a bottle of water by the fridge. If Leon's eyes are on your ass or not, you don't really care. It is your fault for letting him inside your house anyway.

"Again, what do you need, Kennedy?" You ask as you close the fridge door with a bump. Leon is resting against the kitchen counter, the hood down. His dirty blonde hair is by his shoulders now, much longer than you first met.

"Decided to go for a bike ride late at night. Couldn't sleep."

"Oh? And you are telling me that because? Are we friends or something?" Leon ignores the irony in your voice, a small smile on his lips. You wait. 

"No, we are not."

"Good, because-"

"I don't want to be your friend, anyway." Leon declares a somber tone in his voice. It's that same feeling you have had many times near Leon: he is trying to take down your defense walls, one by one. Wanting for you to feel anything other than danger.

"I see. The feeling is mutual." You whisper back, clearly affected this time. Leon starts approaching you slowly. When he stops before you, your back against the cold fridge. There is nowhere to run from his blue eyes. You can't move or don't want to move.

"What do you truly want?" You murmur again, afraid of the answer. Leon places each arm to your sides, caging your body with his. You have never felt so scared before, but not in the wrong way. Never felt so small. So powerless. Passing control to someone else shouldn't feel so easy. 

"What do you think I want?" He tilts his head to one side, tempting you to answer. You bite your lips, wanting to close your eyes but keeping them locked on his. You can still pull him away, your rational part suggests. Pull him away and never see Leon Kennedy again. But do you truly want that?

"This is a trick." You place your hands on Leon's chest. Either stopping or grabbing it, you don't know. You close your eyes, shaking your head, refusing to see, to feel what is right in front of you: Leon Kennedy wants you. 

You were doomed from the start as soon as you let him in. Not here, not today, but from the club. From accepting his hand, reaching out to you.

You know that getting too close to the sun could eventually burn. You have known since the first meeting that allowing Leon Kennedy into your life would be trouble. The wet dreams about him, the fact you would get jealous every time he went out for "a meal." You tried to deny for a long time, ignore, and kill those feelings that only grew stronger. Because who would be stupid enough to fall in love with an incubus?

"Open your eyes." Leon's smooth voice commands, and you still fight again, your body urging you to obey him. Tired of resisting, you open to find him just inches away from your face, his lips close enough so you can finally kiss them. "I can give you what you want. You wouldn't have to go scoping around searching for it. I can leave you breathless. I can give you all the pleasure you deserve and much more."

Leon's voice sounds like butter. This is it: you are into the incubus enchantment. You are melting inside, your hands now grabbing his hoodie. 

What actually breaks you is that Leon seems to be asking for your permission. Deep down, Leon could seduce you, could make you kneel and beg for him. Instead, the silent please in his eyes, the desperation in his voice, his hand trembling against your cheek. You close your hands around his hoodie, bringing his lips into yours. It surprises you how ferocious you are kissing him, surprises you how you moan into the kiss.

Finally, your body aches relieved. Finally.

The feeling is mutual to Leon. What he never has told you is that since he met you, he knew he had to have you: he didn't know what it was about you. He had never heard of anyone of his kind falling in love (they are supposed to be the embodiment of sexual desire, anyway). The time bonding together (for more, you tried to not call that), fighting other creatures, and saving each other's asses made Leon just desire you even more. And for some strange reason, you seemed to reciprocate his feelings, too stubborn to admit. 

His feelings for you made him stop feeding as much, as Leon didn't find much fun and interest in other people. Everything tasted bland and boring compared to you. It didn't help with the dreams, the horny thoughts about you getting worse and worse. Usually, jerking off would be like a small snack for Leon, but thinking about you never left him completely satisfied. He needed to have you.

And tonight, especially tonight, after another sleepless night and having another dream about you sucking him off, Leon decided to, as numerous past nights, bike around town to cool off. He would need to get home and maybe jerk off again, imagining you squirming under him, begging for him to move when he noticed your smell. His attention turned into jealousy when he saw you hugging a werewolf who clearly had sexual intentions towards you.

After seeing this, Leon turned his motorcycle around with one destination: your house. He needed to try. He needed to show you what he felt for you. And if you sent him away, well, at least he would have tried.

Your bodies are entirely in sync. You are surprised to notice Leon knows precisely where and how you desire to be touched and how you like to be kissed. You "blame" the incubus side: he is supposed to seduce you, so you give him what you want.

You fall back into your mattress, and Leon pulls away from you momentarily. You are only in your underwear, bare chest, a complete mess with your lips swollen with the kisses. Your body is vibrating for him: Leon needs to admire that. Or else he would never believe his dreams turned into reality.

"You look so beautiful." He whispers with reverence, taking his hoodie off. You are surprised to see him with no shirt on. Leon pulls his pants down, and you gulp, watching his cock spring free.

"No underwear?" You wonder, your eyes locked into his hard-on. Were all incubus supposed to be this thick and big? 

"Easier that way," Leon answers, shrugging his shoulder. He kisses you again, and his hands take off the last piece of your underwear. He doesn't even know where to touch you first: your hard nipples or your sex? He is eager and somehow nervous. Leon is probably the first case of a nervous incubus in history.

"Leon?" You call his name, confused. He raises his head to meet your eyes, an emotional expression on his face. It is the first time you have called him by his name.

Leon starts paying attention to your nipples. He watches for your reaction, twisting and pinching the way that makes you moan more. You are clay under his hands; if Leon told you to run around naked, you would. At this moment time, you are no one else except his. 

"Spread your legs for me."

You obey his command, feeling his hard-on against your thigh. His hands go down your belly to your sex, more wet than usual. Leon smiles, rubbing you with a fingertip to get a taste of your juice. He chuckles as you tremble, your face embarrassed. 

"I have never been so wet like this," You confess.

"You never heard? Incubus charm can do that. Especially if the other one desires us back, really, really bad." You ignore the way he probably would have said meal. You can feel his breath between your tights, and your hands go into his shoulders to warn him.

"I won't last long if you do this."

"Exactly my point."

By the first touch of Leon's tongue on your needy sex, you can feel close to the orgasm. Your body is so warm, and one of your hands grabs his golden locks, keeping his head there. That only seems to thrill Leon more: He explores with his tongue up and down your sex, and you can't hold back your moans, your other hand grabbing the sheets under you. Leon hums, satisfied as he continues to savor you. 

It doesn't take long for you to cum in Leon's mouth. There is a sound of approval coming from his chest as your entire body shakes under him, your eyes rolling. It had never been this strong with your past partners, you had never come this fast. You would never tell Leon that. You need a moment to relax as Leon raises his head, licking his lips.

"Delicious. Even better, what I imagined." You try to not look embarrassed as he compliments you, the warm feeling in your chest happy to hear that.

"Leon?" You call him worried.

You finally realize his eyes remain the same blue eye color. You might not know a lot about incubus sex, but one thing you know is that their eyes turn a different color when they are feeding. You had heard about red, deep red, orange, orange red-ish. 

"You okay? Need more moments?"

"Why didn't you feed?" The worried tone of your voice doesn't go unnoticed by him. Leon smiles, attempting to ease your worries.

"I didn't ask for your consent. Didn't think it would be fair."

"You don't ask for consent for the others." You argue, the tone of jealousy making him chuckle. Leon lays on top of you, his arms caging you again.

"You are not like the others. You are special." Before the weight of his confession would make you run away scared, screaming for your life. Now, it makes you lock your legs around his hips, purring content.

"I am sure you say that to all others."

"No, I don't." His tone is serious. Leon starts to rub against your still-sensitive sex. He lowers down to kiss you, slowly and this time more patiently. You can taste yourself in Leon's mouth, making you wonder what Leon's taste is. When you break away, you confess in a hushed whisper you want him to feed. 

You want him satisfied with you. Only you.

When Leon penetrates you slowly, to not hurt you, for more wet that your entrance is with his magic, you watch fascinated his eyes turn into a weak red. He probably had been hungry for a long time, and something inside of you told Leon that he would need much more to be fed entirely. Leon pushes all his dick inside of you, giving both a moment to calm yourself. You feel delicious wrapped around him like that: tight and warm. There would be really no one else for him after this.

"You can move now." You whisper, rubbing his face. His first thrust is gentle but still drags a sob out of you. How come Leon has found your pleasure spot so quick? It had to be luck.

Your body had never been in such sync with someone else like that before: Leon knew precisely how to move his hips, how exactly would you make you moan the loudest. It doesn't take long for you to cum again, his thrusts still gentle, hitting that specific pleasure spot you love so much repeatedly. After you cum, Leon stops, worried you might say this is over, but you lift yourself from the bed with one hand, the other holding Leon's neck so he can look at you. You demand more from him, harder, faster. That makes you scream. That the whole town knows who you belong from now.

Your consent is probably what drives him over the edge. Leon doesn't stop now, and if it wasn't for his arm holding around your shoulder to keep you in the bed, you would have fallen out with the strength of his thrusts. You sound incoherent by now, pleading for something, someone, watching Leon's eyes flicker into a stronger red. His eyes never entirely leave your face, his hips hitting against yours with a supernatural strength. You thank mentally for your genetics, or else Leon could have actually hurt you. 

You both are close now, you to your third orgasm, Leon on his first one after weeks. Or months. He remembers how many times he has fapped to this vision before, your eyes rolling with your mouth parted as you begged him to not stop, to fuck you insane, never enough to completely satisfy him. But tonight, Leon is giving you all that he has gotten.

When you both come at the same time, your back arches against the bed, and your vision goes white. You scream, your body trembling under Leon's arm, holding onto his shoulders as if you are drowning in the water. Leon is your anchor now, keeping you remotely sane.

As Leon fills you up with a strangled moan of your name, Leon feels his starvation to subdue. He is still hungry as he always would be for you, but this time he is sated. Different from all the other times he had feed: different from the simple fucks he had when he was hungry. As the closest thing from an incubus could feel from love.

It takes you a few minutes to come back to reality. You blink, Leon at your side this time, his arm around you and his head resting against your shoulder. He has his eyes closed, but he isn't sleeping. 

"You okay?" He asks, finally opening his eyes. They are back to their normal blue eyes, even looking more vivid. 

"Yeah, I guess?" You can feel his cum in your tights leaking from your entrance. "What have you done to me?"

"I told you I would have given you what you deserved." Leon chuckles, and you hit in the arm lightly. Convinced bastard. 

You sit down, wincing at the soreness in the middle of your legs. You wonder if you were entirely human if you could walk the following day. There is a small puddle of white cum in the bed, and you look at him, surprised. 

"Didn't know you guys could make this much mess…"

"Only when we are entirely satisfied." 

Leon lays on his back, arms lifted with his head resting against his hands, a satisfied smile on his lips like he just had the biggest meal of his entire life. And he did: you look a mess, and Leon loves being the reason for that.

"So, do you have to leave now or…?"

"Not if you don't want me," Leon answers softly. 

"I don't." You confess, and Leon smiles, happy. The confused feelings in your thoughts and heart could stay for tomorrow. Now, you need a shower and change your sheets. Then cuddle with the man next to you.

"Do you guys cuddle?" You ask, sounding like an idiot, and Leon giggles again. 

"I think we can. You will be my first one anyway."

First one? Before you can ask what that means, Leon gets up from the bed. You watch as the light of the night illuminates his body, marked with your love. He raises his hand.

"I can see you are overthinking. Let's worry about tomorrow when tomorrow arrives, okay?"

You nod. Sounds like the perfect plan. 

taglist: @90sbee, @scar-crossedlvrs, @roseglazedlens, @sarahs-secrets2

[neesieiumz]

°˖✧ 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 ↳↳ 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢 ✧˖°

A wild west anthology, a collection of fics with six of the attack on titan characters in an alternate universe. each fic is a stand-alone fic with no part two but has connections to the ones before it.

comment below to be tagged in all parts!

°˖✧ ⸻ 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚠 ↳↳ 𝚛. 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚗.

synopsis ⸻ it's not everyday a criminal breaks into your home, huh?

warnings ⸻ smut. 18+ wild west!au. part i of the gold rush anthology! bar-maid!reader. robber!reiner. black-coded reader. female reader. afab anatomy. full nelson position. fingering. a bit of dacryphilia. reiner threatens reader with a gun. the two of them get comfortable with each other really quick. reader calls her mother a bitch in this. reader was raised by her late grandmother cause her mother abandoned her. Erwin is in this, who was also raised by reader's grandmother. sheriff!erwin. erwin sees reader as neice/daughter. annie and bertholdt are also in this, but they don't matter.

°˖✧ ⸻ 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚏 ↳↳ 𝚎. 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚑

synopsis ⸻ when your home gets flooded out by a bad storm, it's only right for sheriff erwin smith to help you out, right love?

warnings ⸻ sm*t. fluff. minors do not interact. part ii of the gold rush anthology. sheriff!erwin. bar-owner!reader. canon-age Erwin. reader is in her late twenties, or early thirties, however, you wanna see it. afab reader. female reader. black-coded reader. soft-dom!erwin. fingering. squirting. full-nelson position (yes, can you tell I have a fantasy that I really wanna do?) soft-dom!erwin. he's also really stressed out in this. he also calls you "love" all the time. he also calls you a good girl during this as well. friends-to-lovers. p*rn with plot.

°˖✧ ⸻ 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚛 ↳↳ 𝚎. 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛

synopsis ⸻ despite working together for a long time, eren and yourself cannot be in a room together, too bad the two of you are stuck at the office late at night.

warnings ⸻ sm*t. minors do not interact. p*rn with plot. part iii of the gold rush anthology. frenemies. coworkers. secretary!reader. officer!eren. eren calls you angel in this. slight-pervert!eren. erwin is your boss. female reader. afab reader. black-coded reader. reciprocal jealousy. mikasa and connie are in this but have no major significance. slight hate sex. storage room sex. mating-press position, regular and reverse cow-girl position. eren and reader are both in their early twenties as well. hickeys. you may or may not get pinned to the floor. they fight a lot for dominance as well.

°˖✧ ⸻ 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚋𝚘𝚢 ↳↳ 𝚓. 𝚔𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚒𝚗

synopsis ⸻ the years have been hard on the two of you, through it all, your love has preserved.

warnings ⸻ sm*t. 18+. minors do not interact. wild-west!au. part iv of the gold rush anothology. plot-filled. an apology for letting this series go on for as long as it did. jean calls you beauty in this. cowboy!jean. council-man's daughter!reader. angst. mentions of abuse. imperfect family dynamics. both fathers are jackasses. mentions of class disparity. friends-to-lovers. forbidden love. someone gets sent to military school. lots of flashbacks to childhood. soft/service-dom!jean. hair-pulling. cunnilingus. cow-girl position. full nelson (please y'all know me at this point)

°˖✧ ⸻ 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚛 ↳↳ 𝚊. 𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚝

synopsis ⸻ on a mission to become rich, city boy armin comes on a mission for gold, seems he hit the jackpot?

warnings ⸻ to be announced.

°˖✧ ⸻ 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛 ↳↳ 𝚣. 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛

synopsis ⸻ far away from home, zeke relishes his new life in the city and leaves what he knows behind.

warnings ⸻ to be announced.

[healmydesires]

you’re my medicine ꕤ (a.s)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

summary: you’re convinced you don’t like anakin, and that he loves to get under your skin. but one summer, you find out just how wrong you’ve been.

genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni) modern/lifeguards!au

word count: 16,5k+ (oops... bon appétit)

tags/warnings: frenemies/enemies to lovers (it’s one sided but oh well 🫣), miscommunication, assumed unrequited love from both sides, reader described as shorter than anakin, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, an oc as readers best friend, inexperienced/virgin!reader, a bit of thigh riding, unprotected sex, piv sex, loss of virginity, soft!dom anakin, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), kinda pleasure!dom? idk… I just love pleasure doms, multiple orgasms, creampie, a bit of daddy kink, some breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink, lots of pet names.

a/n: hellooo this is my very first anakin fic. this idea came up to me when I couldn’t sleep and I just. had to fantasise about it… and eventually I just. started writing it. anyways anakin is a new special interest and I’m literally obsessed with him. I just love him sm. ALSO! the title is inspired by bisous by aya nakamura! it’s a french song and I just. associate it a lot with him. hehe anyways ,, hope u enjoy <3 🥺

please don't forget to interact or reblog <3 thank u for reading <3 🥰 if u can, let me know if you’ve enjoyed it, it encourages me a lot!

AO3 • masterlist • playlist

Aquasplash, a water park in the south of France, near the French Riviera. Around sixty kilometres from Nice located in a city called Fréjus. 

Every summer, you come down to the south for eight weeks, to work as a lifeguard. The water park held too many children, multiple variations of slides, impressive sized pools and Anakin Skywalker.

Unbelievable. 

He’s always here during summer. Every year for the last three years and you can’t seem to understand why he keeps coming back to this particular place. It’s not like there aren’t any water parks overseas.

You can’t stand him sometimes. You know that hate is a strong word. One you try not to use often. But the frustration you feel whenever Anakin is around you consumes you to the point where you can’t even spare him a look sometimes. 

You don’t necessarily dislike the man, it’s just that he gets on your nerves in such a unique way and you can’t stand it. You truly can’t remember the last time you genuinely enjoyed his company.

He’s so charming, flirty, arrogant and just overall obnoxious. For some reason, he tries to make your life difficult. It can’t be for nothing. He thinks he can just come into your favourite summer job and sweet talk his way up to becoming one of the assistant managers. The job that you so desperately wanted, ripped away from you by the prettiest and most self-assured man you’ve ever met. All in the year when you thought you could become friends.

He ruined it all.

Yet, he’s still trying to be nice to you since day one. Too nice. You can’t seem to understand why someone would try to make you like them when all you did was being rude to them.

Either way, Anakin Skywalker is a fucking menace.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It is early in the morning, the heat is already rising, warm and hazy, promising a hot summer day. 

You drive out of the centre of the city, the sun shining, windows down and the radio blasting your favourite pop song at the moment as you hum along to the tune. 

Once you see the “Aquasplash” sign you take the first turn right, moving off the main road, slowly following the small road towards the water park’s entrance. The sound of gravel crumbling underneath the wheels of your car gives you a nostalgic feeling. Bringing you back to when you would come here with your family every summer. 

As you pull your car into the staff parking lot of the water park and turn off the engine, you exhale loudly before closing your eyes briefly. You enjoy the short moment of peace as you listen to your surroundings. All you can hear are the seagulls squawking in the distance and the buzz of insects around you. 

“There’s my favourite princess.”

There goes your peace and quiet.

You swear under your breath, “fucking hell,” as you let your head fall against the top of your steering wheel. You slowly open your eyes as you give him a side glance.

Anakin is leaning against the right side of his car, staring at you with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. 

“Skywalker.” you greet him rather unfriendly, your voice filled with annoyance.

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “You don’t seem that happy to see me.”

“Nope.” 

A frown forms on his face, but as quickly as it appeared it vanishes. He composes himself and a grin replaces it. “Ouch! You wound me sweetheart, I thought you’d miss me.” 

“Missing you? Boy please.” You scoff and roll your eyes before you push your car door open, hitting Anakin softly with your door, pushing him out of your way after you take your duffle bag out of the passenger’s seat. 

You don’t spare him another glance as you make your way to the entrance of the park, locking your car with a press of a button. 

“I know you’re lying!” He shouts before you hear him follow you. 

This time you don’t reply. Too annoyed to give him your time of day. Anakin loves to bother you, loves having your attention on him at all times. You’re aware you’re a stubborn person and it never seems to make him stop to try and get you to look at him, to notice him.

You head towards the office near the entrance of the park. As you enter the building you notice that it’s full. You smile as you recognise some of your colleagues from last year and you wave at them.

You hear a familiar voice calling out for you and you can’t help but squeal as you see that it’s Padmé Amidala. You quickly drop your bag as you both envelope each other in a big hug.

“I’ve missed you so much!” She cheers as she squeezes you close to her. 

“Not as much as I missed you.” You smile as you pull away, winking at her.

“Impossible.” She tsks playfully. Her eyes move to Anakin who stands behind you and she gives him a friendly smile. “Hi Anakin.”

Anakin greets Padmé, before making his way further in the room. He comes to stand close to Obi Wan who is once again the manager for the summer.

“Alright, now that everyone has arrived, let’s get started with everyone’s assigned tasks and positions.” 

As he starts talking you zone out, still feeling quite tired from your long drive yesterday to the south coast. Padmé smiles knowingly as she sneaks a glance at you. 

Around fifteen minutes pass and he’s still going giving everyone orientation and their assignments, until you hear him call out your name. 

“Yes?” You blink as you make eye contact with him.

“You and Anakin are partners for the summer.”

“What?” You exclaim. You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

You see from your peripheral view Anakin smiling at you cheekily and you can’t help but move your face to his direction, narrowing your eyes at him. He shrugs at your expression and then returns his attention back to his friend.

“What this means for you two,” Obi Wan continues with a smile as you huff out in protest, “is that you will have to share most posts together.” He says as he hands out your timetable. 

“Alright, is this all?” You ask impatiently. 

“Yes—”

You sigh and roll your eyes dramatically before grabbing your bag and your friend’s hand, tugging her along with you, making her chuckle as you walk out the building to go to the changing rooms. Your colleagues shuffle out slowly afterwards. 

“Not a word.” you grumble.

Padmé’s eyes shine mischievously, as she presses her lips into a thin line in mock seriousness and makes a motion to zip her mouth with the hand you’re not holding.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

So far, the first two weeks are uneventful.

Every day whenever the visitors arrive, you are constantly busy. You’ve switched posts here and there but other than that nothing worth mentioning happened so far.

Anakin and you have been sharing the same posts but not that much either so it has been a rather peaceful two weeks for you. 

But this afternoon, you’re partnered with him again to observe the main pool of the water park together. 

“I don’t get it,” your colleague and one of your best friends, Padmé, smirks, eyeing you as she’s sitting at the table in one of the staff's kitchens while you slice strawberries for the both of you. “Anakin isn’t as bad as you make him to be.”

“Padmé…” you groan annoyingly before you continue, “that’s because he didn’t take the job you so desperately wanted for so long.” You’re already tired of this conversation, and it barely started.

Maybe it’s your own fault, for comparing yourself to him or that you resent him for getting that job. You’re quite literally aware of how childish it sounds, but you can’t seem to care. You know how much you deserved that job. 

Your friend rolled her eyes at your words. “You should really let this go, it’s not healthy. Besides… It's been two years—”

You cut her off instantly, continuing your rant. “He can’t just come here and take everything from me. He is already one of the best swimmers and lifeguards out there. He is so fucking ‘pretty’ and smart, he always gets whatever he fucking wants anyways. What else does he want?” 

You tangle your fingers through your hair in frustration as you sigh loudly. 

“Maybe…” she begins hesitantly and your gaze meets hers. “Maybe, he didn’t want to steal this ‘job’ from you. Ever thought that he wanted this job just as much as you?”

You scoff but she continues with a small smile. “And perhaps, my dear friend, you should try and be friendly with him. I meant when I said it isn’t healthy to hold such a grudge for two years. He is only trying to be nice to you.”

“Yeah sure,” you huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest. “He’s too confident around me, trying to get under my skin at all times.”

“Under your skin? I think he just likes you.” Padmé says with a smug smile.

“L-likes me?” You splutter as you feel your cheeks burn hot. 

Your friend shrugs nonchalantly, “it seems obvious to me.” 

Padmé isn’t right, she can’t be. 

“Anakin Skywalker doesn’t like me. Nor do I like him.” You whisper harshly as you sit down across from her with your plate full of strawberries.

“Of course.” She says as she grabs a strawberry from your plate, her voice sounding nothing but sarcastic as she rolls her eyes for the second time since she started this conversation. 

“What?” You level her with a glare. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you’re in denial, that's what.” She says impatiently.

Before you can even reply back, the man himself enters the room with a wide smile. You can’t help but stare at him as he greets the both of you. He’s wearing a white shirt that stretches across his chest, with the blue logo of the water park centred in the middle and red swimming trunks. His hair looks messy but he looks so beautiful, it’s unfair. The fact that he let his hair grow out makes him even more pretty. You’d be lying if you didn’t find him attractive, he’s extremely handsome but you would never admit that to anyone out loud. During the time that you spent observing him, eyes trailing up and down the tall length of him, you didn’t notice how Anakin did the same to you.

“Ready to get back to work?” He asks rather enthusiastically. 

“Sure, Anakin. I’m still on my break though. Let me finish eating and I’m good to go.”

His face lights up at your words. He doesn’t say anything and just regards you with a small smile as he leans against the nearest wall.

“What?” You feel yourself grow warm under his mirthful stare. Feeling rather embarrassed as he looks at you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugs, the smile not leaving his face. “You never call me by my name.”

You stare up at him, suddenly confused. You think about what he just said, trying to recall a time where you would call him by his first name. But you don’t remember anything. You always call him by his last name or ‘skyguy’. Heat overwhelms your body at the realisation.

“Well, okay. Don’t make me regret it.” You try to say as nonchalant as you can while trying to avoid looking at anyone, instead staring down your plate. 

You don’t have to look at Padmé to know that she’s staring at you, her smirk dripping with amusement. 

“I won’t,” He winks before moving away from the wall. “See you at the main pool, sweetheart.” He says with a wave as he leaves the room completely. 

You feel relieved once he’s gone, exhaling as you finally meet your friend’s gaze as she looks at you knowingly. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs with faux innocence. 

“That look does not say nothing, Padmé.” You look at her pointedly.

The brown haired girl laughs and shakes her head. You narrow your eyes at her as she continues to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” You huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“Well, it’s funny that you’re so oblivious to each other's feelings. Your own feelings specifically.” 

Hot warmth blooms across your chest at her words, until blood rushes to your ears, but you scoff either way. “What do you mean, feelings? There are no feelings. I don’t like him.”

You say it confidently even if you could hear a tiny distant voice in the back of your head calling you a liar. You push another strawberry in your mouth as she chuckles at your words.

“You’re not fooling anyone but yourself.” She snorts. 

You both fell in silence, mostly because you’re ignoring her. By now the plate of berries is empty and all you can do is stare at it. You sigh dramatically as you pick up your plate, moving to put it in the dishwasher after rinsing it off. 

“Anyways, my break is over. I’ll see you later.” You say as you make your way to the door.

“Don’t forget, we’re going out tonight!” Padmé calls after you.

“How could I forget, you’ve been mentioning it every day at least once this week.” You smirk as she sticks her tongue out at you playfully. 

“Don’t act like you haven’t been looking forward to it.” She says as she points a finger at you. 

“Yeah, yeah… anyways, see you after work!”

“Have fun with your loverboy!”

You flip her off and all you can hear are her giggles as you leave the room.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The air is thick with humidity, the summer heat enveloping you completely, and smells like chlorine. The sun is beaming down on you as you’re sitting on one of the big red lifeguards chairs. You’ve been observing the pool all afternoon, sometimes blowing your whistle whenever some children would do water bombs too excessively.

Anakin is leaning against your chair. You’re simultaneously looking out after all the swimmers in the pool and occasionally listening to Anakin ramble about anything he feels like sharing with you.

“Sometimes,” you ponder out loud, “I wonder why Obi Wan paired us two together and— hold on, why are you blushing?”

“W-what? I’m not blushing.” Anakin splutters as his face flushes more as he averts his gaze.

A devilish smile spreads across your face. “Sure you are.”

“I am not.” He huffs as he continues to try and avoid looking at you. He looks kind of shy all of a sudden. His face is still flushed, his eyes are bright and his plump lips look so kissable— hold on, why are you thinking about his lips? And why do you want to kiss them? You try to mentally shake the thought out of your head but the damage has already been made. You feel a hot flash of warmth spread over your whole body.

You genuinely hope that he doesn’t notice any of that. 

You raise your brows at him, crossing your arms over your chest. You tilt your head as you stare at him.

“Anakin, do you have anything to do with us being paired?” 

“Of course not,” he says quickly, looking flustered.

“Mmm yeah, sure.” You smirk, entirely entertained by the way his gaze keeps avoiding yours. His silence is enough to make you giggle but you can’t enjoy it that long though.

“Why does it matter?” He says more confidently, finally looking at you directly. “Is something up with you? I’ve noticed that you haven’t insulted me in a while.”

You blink at him as your smile fades as heat flashes your face, because you actually don’t know what to reply to him. Anakin is right, you haven’t been insulting him for at least a week. 

You don’t answer him instantly like you usually do, and he chuckles as he shakes his head at you. 

“What?” You say a bit nervously, but you quickly collect yourself, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you roll your eyes at him. “No, of course not. I’m completely fine. In fact I’m keeping all the insults for later.”

“Uh-huh, sure you are.” He says his lips twisting to hide his amusement, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Yes, I am.” You say with confidence.

He’s just watching you and you feel yourself grow warmer under his stare. Suddenly you feel very hot, feeling overwhelmingly warm. Maybe it's the summer weather, or maybe it’s something else.

As silence falls between you two it gives you a bit of time to think. About how the man is always being nice to you. Teasing you, being playful with you. The way he always tries to catch your attention. The way he loves to banter with you. 

Or how you notice a lot of things about him lately. 

Like how his skin tans so easily, how when he gets a bit too close you notice he has some green speckles in his eyes, how blue and black looks so good on him. Or how his white shirts tend to cling on him so well. Or how no matter which room he’s in, whenever he smiles he lights up the whole room. Or how the whole world seems to stop whenever he looks at you. 

You gasp as you look at him, hopping off your chair, walking closer to the tall man.

“What?” He snorts. 

“I know what you’re doing.” You narrow your eyes up at Anakin as you walk closer to him, poking a finger into his warm solid chest. 

“What am I doing exactly?” He looks down at you with an amused smile on his face, looking entirely too entertained. He’s so fucking charming, it’s infuriating you.

Your skin feels extremely flushed, a bit damp, your hair is sticking to your neck and sweat is beading at your chest, your skin and red bikini clinging to your shirt. 

“Stop being—” You stumble over your breath, as it hitches in your throat, realising that you’re both standing way too close to each other. You are close enough that you can see the outline of his features, the faint slope of his nose, his jawline, or the scar near his right eye. Both of your chests are almost brushing, his warmth radiating off on you. 

“Stop being what? Or rather, doing what?” He says, a smile still on his face. Why is he still smiling?

You try to put some distance again between the both of you, but as you do you almost trip, and his arms move quickly, hands coming to steady you on your waist. 

“Careful sweetheart, don’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

“What?” A sense of panic envelopes you as you realise that his hands are still on you. Anakin’s hands feel warm and wide as his palms rest on you, over your shirt. His touch feels dizzying and it feels as if you are growing warmer by the second. 

“Angel—”

“No,” You shake your head frantically, as you push his hands off you. “Stop being so nice to me all the time, stop trying to distract me, stop giving me all those pet names. Just stop. I know what you’re trying to do.” He looks at you with wide eyes as you’re going off on a rant, not able to stop. “You’re trying to get to know everything about me, trying to be all nice so I let my guard down so you can just strike and take, just like you did last time.”

He looks down at the space between the both of you, tilting his head to the side as he frowns. 

“Sweetheart, what do you mean last time?” 

“You know exactly what I mean.” You mumble as you look away.

“No I don’t.” Genuine confusion and concern graces his features. “Also, am I truly distracting you?”

“Huh?” Your cheeks flush with warmth at his words as simultaneously you feel your anxiety bubbling up inside you, embarrassment overwhelming you. 

“You said I’m distracting—”

“I didn’t,” you cut him off nervously as the warmth in your face continued to rise, still not sparing him a glance. 

Anakin says your name in such a soft manner, as he tries to get you to look at him. Suddenly you have had enough of this conversation. Thankfully the loudspeakers announce that the park is closing in half an hour, saving you from talking more about the subject.

“I’d love to stay and chat but I have other places to be!” You say hurriedly as you quickly walk away from him. You ignore him as he calls out after you multiple times, determined to get home as quickly as you can so you could start and enjoy your weekend off. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You’re slowly swirling your straw in your favourite cocktail as you’re staring off in the distance, while you’re sitting on a lounge sofa at the new and fancy rooftop bar Padmé convinced you both to go to. Everything feels a bit hazy, probably because of the alcohol that’s warming up your body or maybe it’s the dimmed colourful lightning and the smoke that hangs a bit in the air. 

Your thoughts keep wandering off to earlier today, about the way Anakin looked so confused and how concerned he was when you had your whole rant in front of him. He genuinely looked like he didn’t know what you were talking about when you insinuated that he hurt you last time. What if he actually didn’t know—

You feel your friend nudge you as your thoughts continue to wander. “Did you hear what I just said?”

“Huh?” You blink as you look at her. You were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear what she was talking to you about. “No, I’m sorry. Could you please repeat it?”

“Alright,” Padmé sighed. “What happened earlier?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mumble as you avoid her gaze.

“Come on,” Padmé whispers your name, “I know something happened between you and Anakin.”

You exhale loudly, staring at your drink, shrugging. “There’s nothing much to talk about.” 

“Okay, well. If you eventually feel like talking about it, let me know.” She gives you a small smile.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” you give her a grateful smile back as you squeeze her hand that’s closest to yours. 

You pull away, leaning against the sofa as you enjoy the last bits of light. The air is still warm, as the sun is setting. You can still hear the soft relaxing music in the background despite the amount of people talking over it. You close your eyes for a moment as you feel a breeze hitting your face, caressing your skin and hair. You desperately needed a night out and you’re thankful for Padmé picking out this location. 

“Man, I truly needed this.” You chuckle after you take a sip of your drink. 

“You mean going out?” Padmé smirks, “I knew you’d love it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You roll your eyes playfully, “you told me so.” 

“Damn right I did.” She smiles cheekily. “You always love going out.”

“Not as much as staying at home though.” You argue as your lips curl into a smirk. 

“True, true.” 

You both talk and properly catch up, finally taking the time to hear each other's stories since the last time you’ve been able to do so was months ago. She laughs as you tell her about all your dating experiences from the past year. Your dating life is quite literally a disaster. You can’t seem to find someone in life that you can truly connect with. No matter what gender. You either end up with another friend or the dates just stay at the first date. You crave a true connection. Someone you can truly be yourself with. Someone that you can talk to about anything and everything and someone that is truly there for you.

Minutes later your eyes stray from hers for a moment as you look across the bar, your smile slowly fading as you recognise Anakin and Obi Wan stepping out of the elevator that led to the rooftop. You feel your body flush with heat as you make eye contact with Anakin. You hate the way your body reacts whenever he’s around. It’s been reacting to him a lot more lately. He looks so incredibly handsome, annoyingly so, like he always does, but the lightning makes him look even more pretty. He smiles and gives you a quick wave before he leans closer to Obi Wan. He murmurs something in his friend’s ear as he gestures to the direction Padmé and you are sitting. 

“What are they doing here?” You question as you continue to stare into their direction. 

Padmé grins sheepishly at you after she looked behind her. 

You narrow your eyes at your friend suspiciously. “You have something to do with this?”

“I may have invited them…” she flushes as she bites her lip.

“Why?” You groan.

You don’t care that you sound whiny, or that your voice sounds a bit panicked, you just don’t feel like spending a whole evening or night with Anakin Skywalker. A moment that was supposed to be relaxing. 

“Because, we both like them. They are our friends.” She exclaims.

You’re not happy, or at least you convince yourself that you aren’t. But you don’t feel like arguing with Padmé right now. You decide at that moment that the both of you deserve to have a fun evening together and if you have to spend it with Anakin too then so be it. 

“How did you let them know where we were?” You raise one of your brows at her.

“I texted them?” She looks at you as if you asked her the most ridiculous question in the world.

“Okay, yeah, stupid question.” You roll your eyes with a laugh.

“You know, you could always ask for Anakin's number. I’m pretty sure he’d give it to you happily. You’re his favourite girl after all.” She smiles deviously.

You huff, shaking your head in the process. “I don’t need—”

“Hey,” Obi Wan smiles as he greets the two of you, “sorry it took us so long.”

You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, you truly hope they didn’t hear what Padmé said. You greet them with a small smile and you finally look at Anakin, finding him already looking at you. He greets you with a small “hi” as he smiles before you see his eyes scan your outfit. 

You’ve spent a good hour looking through all the clothes you brought along with you, debating which outfit would be the best for a night out. You wanted to look hot. So in the end you decided on wearing a black dress, one of those corset dresses with a deep plunge, with a thigh slit on the left side of the dress. You also have dark heels on, not too high but not that low either. You normally don’t like wearing heels, preferring your comfortable white sneakers, but Padmé insisted that wearing sneakers under such a pretty dress is a no-go. Plus you have a small black shoulder bag that’s sitting at your feet. As for your makeup, you’re wearing dark nude eyeshadow with smoked eyeliner, and on your lips you have some pinky nude shiny lip gloss. 

You feel your body grow warmer under his gaze, and you can’t help but feel a bit shy and insecure. You don’t understand why, but you kind of crave his approval.

You’re taking in his outfit. He is wearing a white button-up shirt, his chest a bit more exposed and you have to force yourself not to look too long. You don’t want him to notice that you’re looking at his chest. He’s also wearing some nice blue jeans, the kind that just look good on anyone.

Padmé calls out your name, and as you face her she is already smirking at you. You can’t help but roll your eyes at her.

Anakin clears his throat, “we’re getting drinks, do you guys need anything?” 

“No, we’re good. Thanks for asking.” Padmé smiles.

As both men leave to go to the bar, she turns to you once again. 

“What was that?” Padmé smirks with amusement. 

“What do you mean?” You mumble as you avert your eyes to your lap.

“Don’t act like you weren't staring at each other.” She says with a laugh. 

You sigh heavily, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Oh come on now.” She rolls her eyes playfully.

Before you can say anything back to your friend, you hear your name being called. Your eyes widen as you recognise that voice from anywhere. You quickly whip in your seat as you see one of your best friends standing there, Javier. 

“No way?” You gasp before quickly making your way over to your friend to hug him. “Is this real?” 

He chuckles as he envelopes you in a big hug. “I am very real, yes.” 

Javier is one of your closest friends besides Padmé that you’ve made since working at Aquasplash. He is a Puerto Rican exchange student that came to France to study Engineering. He worked with you for two summers straight until he moved back. You missed him terribly and hadn’t seen him for at least two and a half years. He’s always been a person that could make you feel important. He had a sense of humour that actually made you laugh. He’s one of the smartest people you’ve ever met. A lot of people think you guys have feelings for each other but all the love you have for the man is purely platonic. 

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you chuckle as you pull back to look up at him.

“I missed you too, buddy.” He smiles warmly.

“How long are you staying?” You ask him hoping he isn’t here for a couple of days.

“I’m here on vacation for at least two months, so we can hang out as much as you’d like.” 

“Ah finally, I almost thought you wouldn’t show up tonight.” Padmé says with a teasing look as she crosses her arms, still in her seat.

“You knew?” You gasp.

“Surprise?” She smiles sheepishly. The two of you laugh at her words. 

“All these secrets.” You tsk playfully as you shake your head at Padmé. 

A moment later Obi Wan and Anakin both return with drinks. The bearded man smiles brightly as he recognises your best friend.

“Oh, hi Javier,” Obi Wan says, “it’s been a long time. How have you been?”

As both Javier and Obi Wan are catching up, your eyes almost automatically drift to Anakin. His eyes are almost narrowing at how close you and Javier are standing. You look at him quizzically before he looks away and sits down across from your original seat. 

You wonder why he was looking at the both of you like that. He looked almost jealous? You’re certain that couldn’t be the case, because you’re sure he doesn’t genuinely like you or feel about you in a romantic way. Besides, it’s not like you care. You don’t have much time to think about it, because Padmé gestures to you to come back to your seat, patting the space next to hers.

Once you are back in your seat your brown haired friend leans closer to you. “Javier looks so good.” Padmé whispers, loud enough for you to hear.

You snort, soon turning into a chuckle. 

“Yeah?” You ask with an amused smile. 

“Yeah,” she says as she bites her lip, hiding her shy smile. 

“Oh, do you have a crush?” Your smile turns more wicked.

“Shut up.” She groans as she slaps your arm. 

“Oh my god, you do.” You gasp.

“Quiet down,” She whispers as she looks around her, making sure that no one else hears them.

You giggle at her antics. “It’s okay, I think he has a crush on you too.”

“Really? You think so?” She asks with hopeful eyes.

Your smile turns soft as you nod. “Yeah, I’m sure. He tends to always look like a lovesick puppy around you.”

“You’re lying.” She pouts as she blushes furiously.

“Of course not.” You say as you look at her seriously. 

“Hmh,” she looks at you in disbelief. As if you’re still not being truthful with her.

“Don’t tell him I told you this but,” you whisper as you look around you before continuing, “he talked about you a lot whenever we would hang out.” 

You wouldn’t expose your friend like that if it wasn’t for a greater cause. You’re tired of the fact that two of your closest friends are pining after each other. Especially since now you know that Padmé has feelings for Javier too. 

“No way.” Her eyes go wide at the information. 

“Yes way.” You nod with a smile.

“Okay,” she bites her lip as the blush on her cheeks turns darker. “You think I should make a move?”

“Definitely, I think you should.”

A couple of moments later, Javier comes to sit next to Padmé. “What are you two talking about?”

You lean closer to the side as you make eye contact with your other friend. “Nothing you should concern yourself with.” You say quickly with the most saccharine smile ever. 

“Rude,” he pouts dramatically. “Is this how you treat your best friend who you haven’t seen in over two years?” 

You stick your tongue at him playfully in response. 

After a few drinks and the night turning darker, as the stars in the sky become more visible, the air is still quite warm, you start to feel extremely at ease. Conversations flowed easily with all of you and it was truly a good feeling to be talking to everyone. Even Anakin. Especially him. 

You’ve all been talking for almost two hours. And in those two hours, you’ve learned a lot about Anakin. Just like Javier, he’s studying engineering. The only difference is he's still studying abroad. He lives in Amsterdam apparently, which is your dream city to one day move into. He would laugh in such a sweet way as your eyes would widen at the information or your interest in the city. Would answer all your questions about one of your favourite cities in the world. 

Or how you learned how much he loves to read during his free time. Or his favourite music, specifically how he is a huge fan of Coldplay. He loves all kinds of music. He said he can’t stick to one music genre. There’s so much more that you’ve learned about him.

The more you know about him, the less you dislike him. The less he irritates you. Maybe after all this time, the irritation was something else entirely, buried under the false pretence of dislike. Most likely it was just pure jealousy. You used to genuinely like him. He always makes you feel things in such a furious way. He makes you think about him constantly. No, you know that deep down it wasn’t just jealousy, it was more than that. 

You know something has changed for you. What exactly, you don’t want to face yet. For now, you blame the atmosphere. Something in the air is making things shift around, feel different.

It’s only after you’ve emptied your second or third cocktail, you honestly have no idea, that Javier announces that all of you should do a game of truth or dare.

It’s as if the universe wants to play with you.

“Oh my god, no.” You groan.

“What’s up princess?” Anakin says with a teasing  smile. “You got anything to hide?” 

“W-what? No, of course not.” You stutter as you feel your body burn hot at his words.

“He does have a point.” Javier says as he tries to stifle a laugh.

“You should be on my side!” You exclaim dramatically. 

Padmé snorts next to you.

You turn to look at Padmé, narrowing your eyes at her. “What about you?”

“I mean…” she shrugs as she tries to fight off the smirk on her face.

“Great.” You turn to look across from you, ignoring the way Anakin is smiling mischievously as he looks at you. “I guess I don’t have to ask for your thoughts on this?” You ask Obi Wan.

The man shrugs and you huff.

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”

You groan at his words.

“Come on, don’t be so dramatic.” Javier laughs. You look at him in a fake menacing way which makes your friend laugh even more. “Alright, alright. I will spare you, for now.” He gives you a look that says nothing but danger.

“How generous of you.” You huff, rolling your eyes at him. 

“You’re first,” your best friend says as he looks at you. “You get to choose whoever you want.”

“Nice,” you say with a devilish grin. You’re thankful that you have some time to mentally prepare yourself for once it’s your turn. Because you are certain that if it’s Padmé’s or Javier’s turn that you’re doomed. 

“Uh-oh,” Padmé says with apprehension. 

“Javier,” you start, the man groaning loudly at the mention of his name. “Ok, hold on, why am I not allowed to be dramatic but you are?”

“I’m not being dramatic.” He scoffs, as if you had the audacity to accuse him of such a thing.

“Anyways,” you roll your eyes. “Truth or dare?” 

“Dare,” he picks unhesitatingly.

You snicker at his choice. You pretend to think for a second before you clear your throat, “I dare you to kiss the hottest person in our group.”

Javier’s eyebrows rise together at your bold request. While Padmé blushes bright red next to you. Obi Wan is smirking as he looks at your two best friends. Anakin on the other hand, is frowning. You have no idea why though.

“Is that the dare?” He hesitates.

“Yep,” you smile brightly. 

“You sure?” He questions again.

You sigh heavily. “Javier, you’re the one that wanted to play this game.” 

He gulps before he looks down at the brown haired girl who sits in between the two of you. He moves closer to Padmé, cupping her cheek. “Is this okay?” Javier checks in with her. 

Padmé nods her head shyly but without any hesitation. He says something under his breath that you can’t seem to catch before his lips connect with hers in a gentle kiss. Her arms move instantly, as she wraps them around his neck. 

You whistle as the kiss between them gets a bit more deeper. Eventually they pull away as they gasp for air. Their foreheads are touching as they look at each other with small satisfied smiles. 

“Finally.” You clap your hands as you smile with so much happiness, because your friends finally made a move on each other. You might’ve pushed them into the right direction, but you’re happy that they are showing their affection for each other now.

“You’re dangerous, girl.” Padmé laughs as she turns her head to look at you. But she looks truly thankful for what you did.

“Just doing God’s work.” You say with feigned innocence as you shrug. 

“Before we continue, who wants another drink?” Obi Wan asks the rest of you as he stands up from his seat.

“Me!” You say a bit too quickly and loudly as you stand up from your seat, adjusting your dress as it rides up.

Obi Wan chuckles. He asks the rest of the group what they want as you write down everything down on your notes app so you don’t forget. 

Once you have the orders down, you both make your way to the bar. You feel a pair of eyes on you as you walk away. A chill goes down your spine as you have a feeling who is looking at you. In fact you know you don’t have to turn your head to know that it’s most likely Anakin.

As you reach the bar, you lean over it and try to get one of the bartender's attention. It’s a bit busy, three other people are trying to order at the same time. One of them gives you a nod of acknowledgement, before he comes down to where you two are. Once he takes your order and you’ve paid for it, and leaves, Obi Wan clears his throat.

You raise your head, to look at him expectantly. “Hmm?”

“You know, I’m aware of how frustrated you are that Anakin got the assistant manager position and that you didn’t.” He says carefully. “They picked him because they felt like he was the most qualified.”

You feel slight irritation but mostly embarrassment bubbling up inside you at his words. As you’re about to open your mouth he continues.

“But I feel as if I am inclined to tell you this though.” He starts, “Anakin had a lot of other proposals from other workplaces for summer, other than Aquasplash. A lot of better ones actually. But still, he decided to take on this one.” 

Your mouth drops slightly at the new information. Why would he want to come back every year if he had better places to work at. It doesn’t make any sense. Everyone knows that Anakin is insanely smart and talented. Plus, why would he travel so far just to work at a place every summer with a person like you. Someone that’s been rude to him most of the time. 

“Why?” You frown.

“Why do you think so?” He asks with a small smile. 

You laugh, still puzzled as you shake your head “I don’t know?”

“Sure,” he says as he gives you a look.

Suddenly, you feel overwhelmed as you think about all the moments where Anakin’s always been nice to you, even when you’re nothing but an asshole to him. The way he always tries to catch your attention. Trying to make you laugh. Or the way he loves to spend time with you even if you’re being mean to him. How playful he is. How he loves to tease you or how he seems to only have eyes for you lately. For years actually. Or when his smile would either brighten or soften whenever you enter the room or space he’s in. Or the longing looks he would give you sometimes. 

No. You must be imagining things. 

Your eyes widen as you look at Obi Wan again. You search for a reaction that tells you that you’re wrong. But he just smiles at you knowingly.

You don’t know how or why your feelings for Anakin seem to have shifted so much, all you know is that any trace of hatred you had towards him has disappeared, wiped away to make room for something else. Deep down, you know that this was all just a facade. You’re never truly angry with him. You never disliked him. It was all an act to protect how you always truly cared for or liked him. The feelings you so desperately tried to push away, a feeling that could only be described by a four lettered word. A feeling that might have been around for a long while.

And you’re sure you ruined everything, because you’re such an asshole. 

Suddenly you feel a tightness in your chest. Your breath is turning shallow and ragged and you hear your ears start ringing. It feels as if the sky could be falling down on you any second.

Concern flashes through Obi Wan’s face as he notices a shift in your behaviour.

“Are you okay?”

“I—” you try to speak. “I-I need to go. I’m sorry.” You say hurriedly before you walk away as fast as you can, in need for a moment to be alone.

“Hey, wait,” he calls your name out.

You don’t know why you always feel like running away whenever you’re confronted with something big like your feelings but you know you can’t look or speak to anyone at the moment.

You desperately need to be alone even if it is just for a little while. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You don’t know how, but somehow, you ended up at the beach. The moment you leave the building your phone has been vibrating non stop, not reducing your anxiety at all. So once you sit down on the sand you put your phone on silent after sending one message to Padmé that you’re safe, ignoring all the other texts and missed calls. 

You didn’t stray that far from the bar, which isn’t that far from the coast, only a couple of hundred metres.

Your mind starts to wander back to Anakin, the man that you so desperately tried to dislike for years. Which was all a facade for how you truly feel.

You think about how the fact that the one person that you’ve ever fallen in love with deserves better than someone like you that has been mean to him for years all because of something so stupid. 

You wish you could go back in time, so you never held a grudge in the first place. So you could actually allow yourself to enjoy being around him, to think of him. 

You groan as you feel tears well in your eyes again as the thoughts consume you almost completely. 

“Things will be okay,” you whisper to yourself as you try to regulate your breathing while also mentally calming yourself down. 

You decide to focus on the sea.

Looking at the sea somehow never fails to calm you down, the sound of the body of water grounds you. As you watch the waves crash every time they hit the shore, you feel your anxiety gradually dying down.

You dig your bare feet in the sand, your heels long forgotten as they sit next to you. At the moment you don’t really care that you'll be covered in sand by the time you leave. The beach, specifically this one, brings you so much nostalgia. 

Brings you back to when you were a child.

You briefly close your eyes as you inhale the smell of the sea, exhaling a couple of moments later, releasing a bit of anxiety at the motion. You smile as you feel your body gradually relaxing as more tension dissipates, finally feeling a bit more at peace.

A couple of moments later after you feel your anxiety die down, you feel someone’s presence as they come to sit next to you. 

Unhurriedly you open your eyes again before turning your head slowly. Your eyes widen as you acknowledge who is sitting next to you. As your eyes meet Anakin’s you notice that he is already staring down at you. He’s looking at you with so much concern and an emotion that looks so tender. There’s a flicker of yearning flitting through his eyes as he continues to regard you.

Your bottom lip starts wobbling as you squeeze your eyes shut as you desperately try not to cry. 

“I’m so sorry.” You finally break the silence as tears well in your eyes again as you look at him.

“Hey, shhh sweetheart, there’s no need to apologise.” He whispers as one of his hands comes to squeeze your shoulder. His touch sparks a warmth in your body, just like he did earlier that day.

“Yes there is.” You whisper as you look away, your tears falling freely now. 

“Look at me angel,” he says softly. 

He is so caring and gentle with you, you feel awful, you don’t deserve that after being so horrible with him.

“No, I’m serious,” you say as you try to wipe your tears away. “I’m so sorry for being mean to you.”

You’re crying more now, the tears streaming down your cheeks constantly, your make up leaving some tracks because of it. 

“Sweet girl,” He says as his hands come to cup your face, holding you so tenderly, as his thumbs swipe at the tears that fall from your eyes. Your sad eyes look at him as he tries to comfort you. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’ve been nothing but an asshole to you. All because of something as stupid as a job position.” You whisper as you continue to cry.

“Princess, are you upset because of that?” 

“Yeah, it’s so stupid.” You nod, as you keep sobbing. “I feel so stupid. I’ve never really disliked you, it was all just bullshit. A fucking facade. And for so long I believed I didn’t like you. It’s so fucking stupid.”

“Shhh, I’m telling you right now, It’s okay, you’re not stupid. I know you feel that way right now but you’re not stupid at all. You’re one of the smartest people I know. I am not upset or angry with you, I don’t think I could.” He says as he quickly moves to wrap his arms around you, bringing you closer to him. “I’ve got you, love.”

Every time your body shakes, he holds you tighter. Eventually pulling you into his lap, as you cling to him, your hands holding onto his shirt as if you are afraid that he’d disappear. His face is buried in your hair, yours against his chest as he holds you close.

One of his hands moves to caress your head softly, as the other holds your body close to him. As his fingers continue to caress your head you find yourself being comforted by it, your sobs eventually dying down as you feel yourself relax and calm down while hugging him. 

His embrace soothes you. Anakin is truly such a  comforting person, you could hold him forever.

You slowly pull away from his chest after you’ve completely calmed down, enough to look up at him. As you stare into his eyes, you feel yourself get lost in them. He is truly, so beautiful. 

Before you realise what you’re doing, you raise one of your hands to his cheek. He closes his eyes momentarily at your touch, relishing it. Once he opens his eyes again, he watches you intently, his cheeks flushing red. You feel his heart racing while your other hand rests on his chest still. 

“Anakin,” you whisper, looking shyly up at him.

He smiles at that. “I will never get tired of you saying my name.”

“Well, I haven't really said it much.” You bite your lip as you try to keep yourself from smiling. Of course, it’s not successful.

“True, but still.” He chuckles, “I will always enjoy you saying it.”

“Hm,” you hum as your eyes shift to his lips every few seconds, “I have something to confess.”

You need to confess your feelings to him. You’ve been hiding them for years, even from yourself, now it was enough. You need him to know, even if he doesn’t feel the same way, even if you misunderstood the whole thing. He deserves the truth.

“Go ahead,” he says as his eyes bore into yours, the intensity making you unable to look away. You’re both breathing in each other's air at the moment. You feel as if you’re being pulled by a magnet, your face slowly moving closer to his.

You feel your body get overwhelmed with warmth, as you mentally prepare yourself to tell him how you feel.

“I’m in love with you,” you say nervously, your confession barely above a whisper. Time stands still in that moment, your faces only a few inches apart, his arms still holding you tight against him, one of your hands resting on his cheek and the other still on his heart. “I think I always have.”

His breath hitches at your words, leaving him momentarily speechless. He looks as if he’s processing the words. Anakin leans in then, slowly, watching for you to pull back or show any other sign of not wanting him close. 

He leans in until his forehead touches yours, and you hold in a sigh at the thought of him being so close to you, the heat of his skin radiating off of him, his scent intoxicating you and filling your senses. 

The tip of his nose nuzzles yours, his warm breath kissing your lips, less than a few centimetres away now, and you move your thumb on his cheek, stroking his skin.

“I love you baby,” he whispers, making you still your movement on his cheek as you look at him with wide eyes. Heat spreads throughout your body and your heart flutters at his words, your cheeks feeling hot. “You have no idea how much I do.” 

“I love you too, Ani.” You say shyly. The moment his nickname leaves your lips, his mouth is on yours.

He kisses you with so much passion, pouring all his affection into the kiss as he holds you tightly. The kiss reflects how much he cares and loves you. 

You gasp into his mouth, feeling him as he moves his lips with yours and pulls your body somehow impossibly closer to his, as if he’s not satisfied enough, needing you as close as you physically can. He groans into you, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, and you open your mouth for him when you feel his tongue tracing your lower lip and licking into your mouth.

He moves one of his hands to come to cup your cheek as the other keeps you close, pressing you against him. He tilts his head as you moan into the kiss, deepening it.

He feels and tastes amazing, his touches feel heavenly, just perfect. You know that you will get addicted to him quickly. 

Nevermind, you already are.

He moans into the kiss, completely losing himself to the feeling, his warm tongue swirls in your mouth as his soft lips still move with yours. He is better than you ever imagined, his big hands gentle yet firm, his kisses overwhelming you. 

You feel the temperature rising between you two. Eventually you have to pull away as you gasp for air. Your forehead rests against his as you both breathe in some fresh air. 

His lips then move to your jaw, travelling all over as he presses soft kisses.  “Do you want to go back?” He whispers as he nuzzles his head against your neck. 

“No, I’d rather stay here all night with you.” You giggle as he then resumes to pepper kisses on your skin. As his kisses become more intimate, moving from your jaw to your neck, your giggles soon turn into little whimpers and moans. 

“Good,” he whispers, his voice sounding much deeper than earlier, before his mouth moves up, his lips trailing towards yours to envelop them in another kiss. 

Reuniting your mouths, Anakin kisses you deeply, his hands busying themselves with tracing your body above your clothes. You can feel one of them slowly going down beneath your arms, softly grasping at your hips and down your legs, on the way back up finding themselves beneath the dress you are wearing.

You move your hips against him instinctively, without a thought, grinding down on him, which makes him pull away with a groan. 

He moves back just enough to press his forehead to yours again. The two of you breathe in each other’s exhales, lips still almost touching as he finally speaks.

“Baby girl, you’ll be the death of me.” He rasps.

You feel your body flush with warmth at his words. Heat pools in your lower body. You bite your lip before giggling, you start peppering his cheeks, jaw and neck with kisses as you grind your hips against him again. 

His hands come to hold your hips, halting your movements. You whine as he holds you back, pouting up at him.

“Oh princess, don’t be like that.” He looks at you pointedly.

“But—”

“I’d love to continue whatever is happening right now, but not here.” He whispers the last part. 

You bite your lip as you try to hide your smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief. Your hands come to tug at the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to you. “Then take me home big boy.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You both stumble into your apartment once you unlock the door after the fourth attempt. It’s hard to unlock anything when someone as hot as Anakin, or an amazing kisser like him, keeps distracting you with kisses. 

You giggle against his lips as you finally kick your heels off. Your feet are eternally grateful once you’re out of them. You sigh with relief as you feel your body relax instantly. 

“Man, I hate sand.” He laughs as he also kicks off his own shoes. 

You chuckle at his words, “Of course you do.”

When Anakin moves his body to meet you again he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him. You borrow your head against his chest, nuzzling against his shirt. You’re certain that soon you’ll get addicted to his affection, as if you want him to drown you in it.

“I love you so much,” you whisper against him.

Anakin, pulls away just enough to look down on you. One of his hands moves to cup your cheek, his touch so gentle.

“Will you say it again, sweetheart?” He pleads as he looks at you with adoration. “I just need to hear it again, please.”

You smile warmly up at him, before you stand slightly on the tip of your toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, Anakin.”

Anakin traces your face with his fingertips. Pushing the loose strands of your hair out of your face, he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your lips. Pulling back just as fast as he kissed you, “I love you too.”

He laughs as you chase his lips instantly. 

“You’re laughing at me?” You gasp, feigning shock. 

“No, sweetheart.” You pout up at him as he continues to chuckle.

“Yes you are.” You pull away from his touch with a dramatic huff.

“Come on baby, you know I wouldn’t.” 

“Oh do I?” You say as you pretend to think about it for a second. 

He laughs again, as his arms come to wrap your body close to his once again. You feel yourself melt in his embrace, feeling safe and at home.

As much as you love being hugged, you crave more. 

“Ani?” you whisper. He pulls away just slightly.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He says as he grasps your hands and kisses your knuckles, heat enveloping you instantly. You feel your body get all warm and mushy at the affection.

“I… want you.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He halts his movements at your words, his eyes searching yours. “You want me?” He smiles softly down at you. 

“Please,” you beg as you lean up to trace your lips with his, “I want and need you. I’ve always wanted you.” You press your lips against the corner of his mouth and you wrap your arms around his neck. You look deeply into his eyes, as you continue. “It’s always been you,  Ani. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. My heart has always belonged to you.”

The moment the words leave your lips, his eyes are glazed over, clouded with lust as he no longer holds himself back. His lips envelop yours in a loving but lustful kiss.

His mouth moves, slow and oh so passionate. Anakin kisses you like he has all the time in the world. You love the feel of his lips on yours, you could kiss Anakin all day. So soft and yet so full of passion. He tilts his head a millimetre to fit against you better and you unconsciously perk up on your toes to reach more of him.

You part your lips slightly to catch your breath, inhaling slowly as you taste him and only him. His tongue sweeps across your lips making you whimper. His wet muscle wraps itself against yours a moment later, hot and wet and steady as he tastes your mouth and kisses you deeply.

More warmth pools between your thighs as you continue to kiss each other while your hands wander all over each other. You’re quite certain that your lacy underwear is ruined by now.

Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands try to find purchase on his arms. You feel your core clench around nothing and become even more wet as both of his hands travel from your waist to your ass, squeezing it in his hands and pushing your body closer to him. 

“I’ve loved you for so long.” He whispers against your lips, his hands moving up to hold you. “Sweetheart, you’re my everything.”

You feel drowsy and hot all over, your mind all over the place, your heart beating insanely fast. You’re breathless and Anakin laughs softly as he takes in your state. You need this man so bad.

His mouth trails down your neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses all over your skin, leaving you a whimpering mess.

“Ani,” you whine as you subconsciously rub your thighs together.

“I got you, kitten.” He whispers in your ear. You whimper at the pet name while he moves one of his  legs, sliding between your legs. You mewl as he presses his jeans-covered thigh against your covered heat which has you clinging onto him.

“P-please, I—” you stutter.

His hands move to your hips, guiding your body to move against him. The friction against your pussy has you moaning and you start to rub yourself against it.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He groans as he feels the wetness seeping through the fabric.

Anakin lifts his head and your eyes catch his, his lips finding yours in a rough kiss, not wasting any time as he slips his tongue past your lips. Your body is trembling as he devours your mouth and continues to guide your movements. The man of your dreams is wrapped around you completely, a hand tracing your back, the other holding your hips.

“Pleaaase, need more.” You whine against his mouth, “I need you.”

Suddenly, he lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around him instinctively. The passionate kisses don’t stop as he carries you and looks for your bedroom. Once he reaches your bed he places you gently down the sheets.

The bed dips before he hovers over you. He looks at you intensely as his hands move to your thighs, spreading them so he can fit between them. You whimper against his lips as his fingertips trace the skin of your thighs.

“Anakin, wait.” You say nervously. 

He stops his movements instantly, as he looks at you with concern. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” 

“Nothings wrong Ani,” you nibble at your bottom lip as you look at him. “I just, I’ve never done this before. Being intimate, I mean. I want you, I do, I just wanted to let you know.”

“Sweet girl,” he whispers as he looks at you tenderly, with so much love. “Baby, that’s okay. Don’t you worry about that. I will take good care of you.” 

A small smile forms on your lips at his words, and you nod. Anakin leans down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. Your body relaxes completely at the action. His lips move, all over your face, placing soft kisses on every piece of skin. 

“Ani,” you giggle before chasing his lips. As your lips connect with his again, your arms wrap around his neck, your hands tangled in his hair. His lips are so soft and swollen. You’ve kissed each other so much tonight that you almost can’t feel your lips anymore. The kiss is like velvet against yours, and as his mouth moves, delicate and slow, you can’t help but sigh into the kiss.

All you can taste, all you can feel, all you can see, all you can think about is him.

Lust coursing through your bloodstream, you detach your lips from his, moving to pepper kisses along the sharp outline of his jaw, your lips tracing the edge. Instantly, Anakin’s hands drop to your thighs again, his hands tracing the skin then moves higher underneath your dress, towards your ass before pulling you flush against him. You writhe underneath him, your lower abdomen squirming against the outline of his growing bulge.

Your mouth parts, as you keep grinding against him, as breathy moans leave your lips. 

Anakin sits up, quickly removing his shirt, discarding it somewhere in your room. Then moves back closer. He dips his head down, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his soft lips tenderly roaming over the skin. 

“A-Ani,” you stutteringly whimper, your eyes rolling back when he playfully nips your skin. He presses open mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot just below your ear before sucking harshly. Responsively, you mewl. More wetness pools at your core, growing more wet as he takes care of you.

You sigh under him, “I want you,” you mumble quietly.

Anakin runs his nose down the column of your throat before tracing the shape of your collarbone. When he reaches the crook of your neck again, he bites down softly, making you whimper out his name. Lazily, he flicks out his tongue, the wet muscle gliding soothingly over your stinging flesh. He pulls away just a bit as he mutters “I want you too, baby girl.”

“Then do it, take me.” You groan almost impatiently.

Cupping his chin, you pull him in for another kiss, desperately needing to feel his lips against yours once again. He dips his head down almost automatically, as he chases your own, he slides his tongue inside your mouth and you react instantly, gliding yours against his.

Feverishly, your hands begin roaming over each other, hot lust clouding your minds as your kiss grows fervent with desire. You move your hips desperately as you moan against his lips, hoping that he will get the hint. 

“So needy,” he groans against your mouth.

Anakin’s large palms push under the hem of your dress and over your bare thigh under he reaches the junction between your thighs. Unhesitatingly, he presses his hand to your covered folds, and the sudden touch has you breaking your kiss with a strangled cry.

Soft whines spill from your lips, you grind into his hand unconsciously, your walls clenching as you feel him softly stroke your folds over the fabric. The wetness between your thighs is uncomfortable. As he rubs your throbbing clit, you feel your hips stutter at the action. He groans as he feels more wetness at your entrance.

“Such a wet pussy, is this all for me angel?”

You nod frantically, but Anakin doesn’t seem satisfied enough.

“Come on, be a good girl and use your words.” He taunts with a smirk.

“Yes, all yours.” You manage to whimper, your voice sounding strangled and pathetic, as he applies pressure on your clit. “Only yours.”

“That’s my good girl,” he says with a grin. His fingertips find the hem of your dress and you sit up slightly. You raise your arms quickly to help him get rid of your dress.

You feel your body tremble in anticipation, as his eyes roam all over your half naked body, his eyes not being able to stick to one place. Growing wetter under his heavy stare, your inner walls clench around nothing. You feel your heart picking up as his hands reach for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his once again.

“So beautiful.” He whispers as his hands trace your skin.

His lips then crash against yours as you gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing, and take it upon yourself to guide his hand back down to your pussy, this time underneath your panties. His mouth leaves yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your wet lips.

“You’re so fucking wet, kitten.” Anakin groans as he drops his head to your shoulder, as he runs his soft lips over your flesh, peppering kisses onto your skin. 

His lips trail slowly down to your neck, all the way to your chest. Anakin breathes in through his nose, a flash of heat warms you up at his words and you shiver when he exhales warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “You’re a fucking goddess.”

That’s all he says before he wraps his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucks and licks passionately, then he pushes one of his fingers inside your pussy. 

The slight stretch causes your walls to contract, and as he pushes further into you, your cunt practically swallows the length. Feeling you grip his finger, he detaches his lips from your breast.

“Fuck— such a tight pussy,” he hisses. “I’ve dreamt of what your pussy would feel like, but I never thought it’d be this good,”

Your soft noises of ecstasy become louder as the pleasure overwhelms you. His tongue starts licking again, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand keeps pumping his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. His tongue swirls around your nipple, tracing its outline over and over again, while he simultaneously suckles at it.

You whine as your core starts clenching around his finger, begging for more. Instinctively you begin moving your hips, grinding against his hand, as he groans against your skin. Anakin’s lips leave your breast with a wet pop and he looks at you intensely as he continues to fuck you with his finger. You are panting heavily, barely able to think straight as he slowly slips another finger inside you. With each movement, you feel your entrance open and close, your eyes rolling back at the sensation.

“Ah fuck, daddy.” You whimper in a daze, not realising what spilled from your lips.

He groans and moves his face back up, to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

“Good kitty, doing so well for daddy.” He pants against your lips.

Your breath hitches at his words, bucking your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. Of course he notices and slips a third finger in, moving them slowly at first as your tight pussy tries to adjust to the addition. 

Little whimpers leave your lips as he fucks you slowly with his fingers. You feel so full, you can’t help but imagine him fucking you with his cock, knowing that he’s probably massive. His pace eventually speeds up as you move your hips along with his movements. His lips move back to kiss you, as you whine against his mouth. Your hands clutch his shoulders as you move along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him curl them and spread them.

“Does that feel good, baby girl?” Anakin moans at the moment he connects his thumb with your little pulsing clit. “My love, do you love it when I play with your little pussy?” He rubs your bundle of nerves at the same pace as he fucks your tight walls. You buck your hips, moaning as you nod at his words. “Use your words, kitten.” He tuts.

You writhe against the sheets as you mewl. “Fuck! Yes, please, please, Ani. It feels so good.”

Anakin leans his head back down, trapping your lips in yet another heated kiss. Instinctively, you feel your legs spread even more open for him as you feel yourself get close to your first orgasm of the night. His tongue slips easily into your mouth after another gasp falls from your lips. You can’t help but moan, whine and whimper as he continues to pleasure you. Your hands wander to the back of his head pulling at his hair softly making him moan into your mouth.

“F-fuck, I need you so bad.” He groans as his thumb applies more pressure on your little nub. He curls his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shake.

His eyes stare into yours, lust and adoration written all over them. Once he fastens his motions inside you again, you moan and squeeze your eyes shut. A burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen makes you arch your back beneath him.

“Come for me, my baby.”

You open your eyes slowly, locking eyes with him. His intense gaze is what it takes for you to come undone. The hot feeling spreads all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Anakin’s hand as you gasp loudly.

“Doing so well for me princess,” he says proudly, smiling as his fingers slow as you come down from your high. 

As you come back to your senses, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. You feel your pussy clench around nothing every now and there, your wetness dripping down the sheets, which makes you whimper helplessly.

Anakin climbs off the bed, as he makes quick work to remove all of his clothing. You are still in a daze, closing your eyes for a moment.

Once he removes the rest of his clothes, you feel him move back up to you. He leans down, roving his lips down to your neck, licking and sucking, as his hands cup your sensitive breasts, massing them in his hands. You whimper, it’s too much, everything is too much. You feel so hot as Anakin litters soft kisses down your shoulders to your chest. Your hands find his head once again, running your fingers through his hair as he breathes onto one of your nipples.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He says softly against your skin.

Anakin’s lips move slowly down your body, kissing every little place he can find on your skin while he pushes your body back against the bed. His lips travel all the way down to your hips making you whine and beg silently for more.

A mischievous smile plays on Anakin’s lips as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. “You smell so good, I am sure you taste just as good, if not better.” He groans before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him, truly speechless someone could make this look so hot. Anakin keeps looking at you as he slides down your body, pulling it off you when it reaches your ankles.

Once he pushes your legs wide for him, you whimper as the air hits your wet slit. Anakin smiles as he kisses all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you need. He presses soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands move along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moves up your legs.

His lips linger on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Anakin’s lips are so close to where you need him the most yet he feels so far away.

“P-please Ani, baby, I need you…” you practically beg, so desperate for him to finally give you what you desperately want.

“I love it when you beg for me kitten,” he whispers against the flesh of your thigh before his lips move higher making your breath hitch. His fingers move to spread your outer lips for him, Anakin smirks as he slides two fingers inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation, and you moan against the pillow next to you trying to muffle yourself.

“Mmmm you’re so wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my fingers,” he says before he presses some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”

“God, d-daddy… please move your fingers or anything. I just. I need you so baaa—” your whining gets cut off once you feel his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan from your throat. “F-fuck!”

You feel like screaming, you don’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Anakin’s giving you already. He dives between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his fingers before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage and sucking your button into his mouth.

You feel your body trembling terribly. You need more. You try to grind your wetness slowly against his lips as your body continues to shake.

Strong arms are suddenly locked around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.

You grab a random pillow as you hold it against your face to muffle your loud noises while your hips move along with the pace of his fingers. A moment later you feel him grab the pillow and remove it from your face, you whine as he drops it next to your body.

“I want to hear you, my sweet girl, don’t hide your pretty face and moans from me.” He says against your wetness as he curls his fingers inside you, playing with the sensitive spot inside you.

“A-ah, Ani, daddy please. I-I need more.” You moan desperately underneath him. You are squirming, it is so good you can barely even figure out what he is doing with his tongue.

Anakin slowly removes his fingers out of you, making you whine at the loss. He chuckles against you, heat spreading all over your body at the action. His tongue is lapping at your lower lips. Loud incoherent noises come out from your throat. You’re squirming at the feel of his tongue moving around your entrance and Anakin just sighs like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than this right now, eating you out in your bed, and it feels so so good.

Slipping his tongue finally into your entrance, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, you practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. Your head swims from his ministrations. Moaning and whining, you continue to writhe underneath him. You can feel the tight coil in your stomach, ready to snap.

“P-please, please. Ani, I’m so c-close.” You squeak when he starts thrusting his tongue in and out of you just like his fingers that had been doing it earlier before, your body trembling as you try to grind your hips into his mouth as you repeatedly whine his name.

“Come on baby, come for me,” Anakin says against your pussy before plunging his tongue back inside. Your trembling hands reach for his head, tugging lightly at his longer dark blonde strands, while moving your hips against his face, fucking yourself onto his tongue. As he applies pressure on your sensitive spot inside you with his tongue, you can feel his thumb circling your clit, making you see stars.

With a bit more pressure on your clit you come with a loud whine, your vision turning white and your ears ringing as you feel your movements against his face getting sloppier. 

The orgasm you’re experiencing feels so intense, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. You feel your pussy gushing against his lips, feeling more wetness slipping out of your entrance as Anakin moans against your cunt. You take in some deep shaky breaths, trying to gasp for air as you come down from your high. Your body trembles heavily as you try to come back to your senses. 

You feel Anakin’s tongue still licking up your pussy as he retreats his fingers from your pulsing hole. His mouth feels heavenly, but you whine at the sensitivity. He moans as he licks against your tight hole, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your entrance again.

“‘S too much.” You whimper at the overstimulation.

Anakin ignores your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continues to eat you out. The man you adore so much between your legs keeps sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spur him on, to move his lips back up to your clit. He sucks the nub softly between his lips. 

The walls of your pussy clench furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickles out of you, your core practically begging to be filled.

You begin grinding your hips against his face as moans keep spilling off your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He remarks as he presses a kiss to your clit. 

Eventually he leans down, slipping his tongue into your entrance again, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encourages him to do it again and again.

You are a mess of his name, you chant his name over and over again. As if his name is the only word that you know at the moment. Your hips move against his face as you continue to whimper and moan breathlessly underneath him. 

Writhing below him, you feel him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that has you seeing stars, while your hips buck against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers are once again gripping onto his dark blonde hair rather harshly and your hips push against his face to shove his tongue deeper into your hole.

“Please,” you beg. You’re so, so close. You just need a little bit more to climax.

“Come,” he whispers his demand against you, before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb comes up to press against your little bundle of nerves. You come with a loud whine, your hips stuttering as your vision turns white. You cry out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. Your fingers are tightly woven through Anakin’s hair and your hips push so far against his face, you think you are almost suffocating him.

As you slowly come down to reality again and you try to catch your breath, you hear him praising you softly while he continues to lap at your wetness gently, until you whine and nudge him away with your leg because the overstimulation is getting too much for you. Finally Anakin detaches his mouth from your pussy.

He quickly licks the wetness off his lips before he crawls back up to you with a smirk, to kiss you deeply, cupping your face in his hands. You moan at the taste of yourself against his tongue, your eyes fluttering against his skin while you kiss, your arms wrap around him to pull his body closer against yours. You sigh happily, against his mouth, you feel yourself melting in his embrace already. You can feel his soft mouth smiling against yours, as the kiss gets more heated.

“You did so good for me, baby. My good girl.” He whispers against you. 

You pull away to look down between your bodies. He’s incredibly long, insanely so, and somehow even thicker, its rigid girth intimidating against your body. His shaft throbs under your gaze and you can’t help but fixate on it, you swallow thickly at the sight of it, the walls of your cunt constricting around nothing.

You can’t help but wonder if it was even possible to fit inside you. 

His lips chase your own, as he envelops you into another sweet but deep kiss. “Care to share what you’re thinking?”

“H-how?” You say quietly as you stare at him.

Anakin chuckles and you can’t help but pout at the sound of his soft laughter. “Baby, I’m not making fun of you. I swear.” He reassures you quickly as his hand cups your cheek gently. “Don’t worry, it will fit.”

You can’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. You’re whimpering and moaning as you move. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh, baby,” Anakin groans, and it’s because he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He keeps rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. Every single time his tip rubs against your hole you tremble more. He loves the sounds you make as he spreads his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.

“Please, daddy.” You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You are still extremely wet, but the thought of him finally entering you with his big cock makes you wetter. Anakin swallows your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against yours. He kisses you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

His broad body covers your own smaller body with his. You can’t help but love how bigger and taller he is than you. You feel so small under his large body, but in a good way. You’ve always had a thing for much taller guys. You love how sexy he is; his deep voice, his big hands, his large, muscular, sweaty body. You love hearing him call you his baby, his princess, his love, all the loving names he comes up with for you. You love how he treats you, how he has always treated you. He makes you feel safe and so loved. 

You are trembling against him, filled with anticipation. You writhe against him, wishing he was just filling your pussy up already.

“Are you ready for me, baby?” He whispers as he looks deep into your eyes. “I’ll try to be as gentle and as slow as I can, okay? Let me know if you want me to stop and I will.” He promises you.

You whine and nod, not trusting your voice at the moment, as you rub your pussy against his dick.

“Fuck,” he moans, “I need you to use your words baby.”

“Okay,” you whisper breathlessly. “I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart, so much.”

He leans back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands leans down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your entrance. You arch your back slightly and whimper loudly out of frustration.

“P-please—” your whine gets cut off at the feel of him applying pressure at your tight hole.

Anakin slides the tip in such a slow way it is agonising. At first he struggles to enter the tight, unused walls of your virginal pussy. Your lips part with a cry. He is so careful, like he is afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. 

You whine at the stretch of him. He is so huge. Your tight pussy clenches around him as it tries to accommodate his massive girth. He continues to push more of his cock inside you. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves more inside, hoping that the distraction and the kisses will soften the sting.

“Fuck, how are you so tight.” Anakin moans against your mouth, almost undone by the tight embrace of your velvet walls around his cock.

His hips still once he hears your strangled gasp. “Wha— it’s not m-me. Ah, fuck. You’re just huge.”

“Do you think you can handle more?” He smiles tenderly as he looks down at you.

“M-more?” You stammer with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly.

“Please,” You flutter your eyes close and whine as you nod. You grip the bed sheets between your fingers as you beg him for more.

“Good girl,” he grunts softly. You think there isn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you feel your heat get sopping wet. Your pussy continues to pulse and clench around his cock as he moves deeper inside you.

Once he bottoms out, you feel his tip kiss your cervix. Anakin lets his body rest against yours as he allows you to adjust to his size. You feel extremely full, as if he is made for you, and only you. A sudden feeling of completeness overtakes you, the sense of wholeness overwhelming you.

The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders. You feel one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them together as the other one reaches up to your face.

His breathing is heavy as you squeeze his cock constantly. Small whimpers spill from your lips as you squirm underneath him.

You need more.

You slowly open your eyes to look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Ani.”

“You need me to move baby?” He asks gently, as his thumb swipes over your bottom lip.

“Yes, please.” You beg as your pussy clenches around his thickness rather hard which makes him moan. “I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He nods before he starts moving slow and deep, one hand reaching down to play with your clit, while the other holds onto your hand tightly. The sting was hurting for a while, but it easily morphes into a more pleasurable feeling as he moves against you. 

He moans as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it.

“Such a tight pussy,” he groans.

A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escapes your throat, a strange cry of his name.

Anakin’s entire weight is braced on one hand beside you, his other hand moving to rest on your back, under your body, as he pulls your chest into his. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he grinds his cock into you. The angle is so good, gradually he picks up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. Every time he thrusts into you, his pelvic bone drags along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.

“You’re taking me so well, kitten. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispers against your skin as he nuzzles his face against your neck.

You whimper as his lips move back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. At a certain point you feel him slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes roll to the back of your head from the pleasure he is giving you. Your legs shoot out, wrapping them around his hips, and your heels dig into the fleshy globes of Anakin’s ass, pulling him deeper into you.

“Feeling good my sweet girl?” He moans, a small smile forming on his lips as he watches your face contort in pure pleasure.

His mouth covers your own instead as he swallows all your little noises, you can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tight, tight, tighter. Suddenly everything feels too much. It is just too much for you to handle.

He quickens his pace, his hips snapping up to yours to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this me, isn’t it, kitten?”

You can only moan his name repeatedly in response. His hands can’t seem to get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. Your arms wrap around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil is tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he admires you, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck— I bet you’d look so pretty full of my cum too.”

“Please…” you whimper at the thought of him filling you up with his cum. As your thoughts start to wander, things that you shouldn’t be thinking of yet, all because the thought of him filling you up with his cum has your thoughts going feral. It has you involuntarily clenching around him. (You try to store that fantasy for later.) “Please daddy, fill this pussy up.”

He groans as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

Fervently, the two of you rock into each other, chasing your own highs. You cling desperately to him, your arms holding onto his shoulders as you writhe together. You crave his kisses, needing to feel his lips on yours, you strain your neck and press your mouth to his. Instantly, his mouth opens, and your tongues begin moving against each other leisurely.

One of his hands slides between your body before you feel him stroke your clit. He rubs your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’d cum. Breaking from the kiss, you cry out against his lips, your breaths heavily intermingling together.

“You want to cum, sweetheart?” 

You nod frantically at his words with your eyes closed as you bite your lip harshly. “Please, f-fuck. Need it so bad.”

“Cum for me, baby,” Anakin urges. His command, paired with the way his fingers caress your clit, and how his cock drags against your sweet spot, has you at the brink of your climax.

Mouth falling open, your muscles strain as you choke out a cry of euphoria. Your whole body trembles, squirming underneath him as you come undone. You held his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. Head lolling back, your back arches violently as you twist and contort in pleasure under him. 

Anakin groans in your ear as your walls spasm and pulse around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

Feeling your pussy tighten in a vice-like grip, your inner walls gushing with wetness as you milk his shaft, Anakin moans deeply.

“Fuck,“ he moans, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “Going to fill this pussy up, until it’s full and messy.”

His own head falls onto your chest, and with a few more thrusts, he buries his cock as deep inside you as he can before he cums.

He moans loudly, as he comes inside you. The warmth of his seed fills you up and spreads within your walls. His warm cum fills you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. You whimper at the feel of his cum dripping out of you.

Once both of you catch your breaths, Anakin leans his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

You feel him soften inside you, and as soon as you feel him move to pull out, you whine in protest wrapping your legs around him to prevent him from leaving you yet.

“Stay.” You whisper against his lips.

Anakin lets out a breathless chuckle at that.

“We need to clean you up.”

“Right now?” You whine again.

“Yeah,” he smiles as you pout. “How about this, I will clean you up and then we can cuddle as much as you want.”

“Will you stay?” You continue to pout.

“Yes, if my girl wants me to stay I will.” He smiles down at you, looking at you with so much love.

“Oh really?” You grin at him. “Am I your girl?”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Yes, of course. Who else?”

“I just wanted to hear you say it.” You giggle before you press a soft kiss at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, you’re mine. Just like I’m yours. Completely.” Then his head moves just slightly, to capture your lips in another deep and loving kiss. As you lose yourself in the kiss, you don’t really notice as he softly unhooks your legs from around him. Moments later he pulls out as gently as possible.

You whine in protest, your walls a little raw from his thick girth, and when he retreats completely, you can’t help but squirm. Instantly, his cum begins leaking out of you, causing you to mewl in pleasure, your entrance throbbing and only forcing more of his cum out. 

Anakin sits back on his heels, his eyes drop to your pussy, a low groan falls from his lips. Your legs are spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he’s more focused on how his cum leaks out of you, his seed dripping down your ass. Or how your pussy clenches around nothing every now and then. His chest swells with pride, and he can’t help but smile lazily.

Leaning forward, he presses one hand onto your inner thigh, while the other swipes two fingers between your slit, gathering up his cum, and pushing it back into you. You wince at the sensation, a low groan slipping from your throat at the sensitivity. He presses a kiss to your knee in apology after he pulls his hand away.

“Come on baby,” he chuckles as he moves off the bed, taking you along with him. You whine as you realise that you’ll have to come along with him, leaving your soft bed.

“What? I thought you were gonna clean me up?” You pout. Your legs wobble a bit, your body aching as he tugs you to the adjacent bathroom of your bedroom.

“I changed my mind.” He smiles cheekily.

You raise your brow at him, looking at him suspiciously as he guides them into her shower. 

“If you think that we’re gonna do anything but clean ourselves then you’re mistaken mister.” You poke his chest playfully.

“I know,” he winks before he turns the shower on. Immediately, water shoots from the shower head mounted to the wall, the spray wetting your arm. 

Once you’re both cleaned, which took a while because you did more than just clean; lots of kisses and touches were shared, both of you finally crawled back into bed. The night is filled with lots of talking, laughter, your kisses, cuddling, more noises of pleasure and all the love you both share for one another. You know that you’ll never get tired of loving Anakin, regardless of how new your romantic relationship is. And you know he feels the same way about you too. You’re tired of running away, tired of pushing your true feelings away. Finally allowing yourself to be truly happy with the love you have for the man that adores you just as much.

He’s your medicine.

[written-in-flowers]

Aemond Targaryen x niece reader smut...

Lady Strong

Pairing: Aemond x Strong!Reader x Aegon | Side pairing: Aegon x Aemond

Warnings: female!reader, frenemies, arrange marriage, family feuds, threesome sex (M/M/F), bisexual sex, incest, slight dub-con, facesitting, oral sex (m and f giving/receiving), throat fucking, cock worship, dom/sub themes, bdsm themes, spit fetish, cum swapping, facials, dirty talk, name-calling, slight degradation, pussy slapping, spanking, anal sex, anal fingering, rimming, edging, double penetration, multiple positions, 

*** 

Your marriage to Aemond was a complete farce. You knew it; he knew it. A marriage between House Targaryen and House Velayron was a grabbing-at-straws attempt to ease tensions between them. But, you each knew that it’d be pointless to do so. Aemond made it clear what he thought of you and your family, and you’d learned to not like his in return. You’d been there the night he called you and your brothers ‘bastards’. You’d listened to his toast at a family dinner, where he toasted to the health of his niece and nephews:

‘Each of them handsome, wise...strong.’ 

How could your mother expect you to marry him after that? She could have picked any other man, but chose him in a weak attempt at making peace. You didn’t really like Aemond. He was cold, mean, intimidating, lethal, and impulsive. He hardly spoke to you during your courtship, and even less once you married. You didn’t mind it at all. You didn’t have to spend time with him, if you didn’t want to. For a young married couple, you did not share a bed. Both your chambers were connected by an apartment in between them. This made it easy for one to see the other if they needed to, but that rarely happened. You avoided Aemond’s company, if at all possible. 

There’s only one time you truly desire your husband’s company.

“Aemond?” 

You stood beside Aemond’s bed in your nightgown. Aemond laid naked underneath his sheets, soundlessly sleeping and unaware of your presence in his room. It was quite unnerving watching him sleep. He didn’t wear the eye patch to bed, so his sapphire eye remained open and glimmering. It was foolish, but you felt as if Aemond slept with one eye open at all times. You turned away from his eye to the rest of his body. Chiseled from years of training and exercise, Aemond went from a scrawny boy into a lean, tall man. Even with your sour feelings towards him, you couldn’t deny he’d become handsome. Women at court did not envy you though, since they found his disfigurement ghastly. 

“Aemond,” you said his name a bit louder, which caused him to slowly roll onto his side to face you. 

“What?” he replied groggily, not opening his closed eye. 

You walked over to the bed, gingerly taking his hand to put under your gown. A soft whimper escaped your lips at the light touch of his fingers on your sex. You guided his hand over your slit a few times before he sensed your wetness. He did not open his eye, yet that familiar crooked smirk crossed his face. You stayed standing, taking in his soft caresses. His thumb dragged over your clitoris in slow circular motions each time he went upwards. A familiar tightness began forming between your thighs as Aemond’s hand rubbed your pussy. You felt his long fingers brush across your entrance while he teased the pearl in your folds. 

“I wonder what made you so wet,” you heard his soft voice say to you. “Were you, perchance, thinking of me, dear wife?” 

“I may have...”

No, not ‘may have’. You’d never tell him that you’d been in bed remembering the last time you shared a bed. After a day of watching him in the training yard, you’d started picturing the taunt muscles underneath contracting in each movement. You thought about how his defined arm muscles whenever he propped himself above you; how hard his shoulders felt under your fingers when he thrusted into you. His thumb continued gradually circling your pussy while you thought about how his tongue felt so much better. He always kept it light and slow, knowing the feeling sent you into a blissful torture. 

“Would you like me to do what I did to you last time?” he asked, eyes focused on your soaked sex. You’re never wet enough for him. You could make yourself positively dripping before seeing him, and he’d still tease until he was satisfied. “I know how much you enjoyed it,” he said, rapidly rubbing your clit just to watch you tremble at his touch, “And I certainly did...especially when you came for me...because of me...because of me and my tongue...”

“Aemond...”

“Come have a seat,” he said, sliding further down on his bed and giving you space. “It’d be wrong of me to leave my wife wanting.”

Right away, you straddled Aemond’s head and sat on his face. A flood of pleasure washed over you as his tongue continued the same motions as his thumb. You’d made yourself already so sensitive, that your body became hyper-aware of his body against yours. Every lick made you weak. He flicked over the small nub of your clit, sliding from side to side and up and down gingerly. Each swipe sent dozens of nerves down to your core where the ball tightened. You tore off the sheets covering his lower half, and your mouth watered.

Another positive side to your marriage: Aemond’s cock. A little above average size, you simply liked looking at it sometimes. You took it in your hand, feeling it pulse in your palm, and slowly stroked. Blood pumped through the veins to make it harder, thicker and longer. Already, you imagined him balls deep inside you and taking you how he pleases. It stabbed your ego a bit to submit to a “Green”, but Aemond’s cock...how could you resist? Aemond groaned into your sex when you ran the flat of your tongue over his hardening shaft. You kissed every inch of it, worshipping the length and thickness in your hand; you reached down to the balls, heavy with cum and fitting perfectly in your hands, rolling them gently around while teasing his reddening tip. You traced the smooth skin of the bulb of his cock, latching your lips around for a gentle suck that made him groan into you again. The act on its own aroused you, and Aemond knew this. 

The strong, calloused hands that easily swung and twirled swords squeezed your ass tightly, giving each side a swift smack. His way of telling you to stop teasing him, but you didn’t obey. You loved teasing him. You continued slowly  swirling patterns along the shaft, feeling it tighten as he grew more aroused. You yelped once more when he smacked your ass again, growling into your pussy and making you squeal. When you didn’t take him in your mouth, but instead started playing with his balls again, Aemond’s hits became harder and sharper. No doubt your bottom will be feeling sore tomorrow. But, you didn’t care. Small shocks of pain combined with Aemond’s tongue fueled the arousal burning deep inside. You rocked your hips back and forth on his face, his chin and nose more apparent when you fully sat on his face, and started coating his length with precum. Aemond did not object at all. He hooked his arms around your thighs to keep you steady, and rapidly attacked your clit with his tongue. 

He moaned lowly when you finally slid him into your mouth. Nothing truly compared to Aemond inside you. Whether he slid into your mouth, cunt or, even sometimes, your ass, the feeling of him was addicting. Your families might not like one another, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t bed him. He was your husband. You’d never tell him how you touched yourself to thoughts of his cock sliding to your throat, droplets of precum spilling onto your tongue and mixing with your saliva so he went in smoother. You’d never say that you love it when he makes figure-eights on your clit and dips into your sex; that nothing brings you to orgasm faster than his long fingers probing your holes. Admitting that you’ve often peeked through his keyhole to watch him bathe after a long day would bring you no peace. 

Deciding your slow movements aren’t good enough, a large hand took hold of your hair and forced your head down. Finally. Your pussy throbbed as Aemond forced you to deep throat him. His tip pushed right into your throat over and over, causing you to gag and choke. Streams of saliva and precum came whenever you pulled away for breath; they fell from your open mouth back onto his wet cock. It only made you want more. Your pride sat aside while Aemond fucked your throat and tongued your pussy. Perhaps, somewhere deep down, you wanted to give him control. You wanted someone else to hold the reins. It became tiresome being the formidable daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, having to live up to her image and reputation. Aemond provided that, you supposed. As a soldier, he took orders often. 

With you, he can give orders. 

“Ride me,” he said, gripping your thighs and biting on the inner side, “Ride my cock however you please.” 

You did not protest. Sliding your sex down his body, you gasped once his cock brushed your sensitive cunt. Hands on the bed between his legs, you straddled his hips and rocked yourself over him. You went the entire length, only stopping when your clit touched his tip. His hands grasped your ass and gave it another smack, a demand for you to slide him inside your hot sex. 

“Don’t make me put it for you,” he grunted between his teeth, “If I do, I’m going to treat you like the little bastard whore you are.”

The words, at any other time, would send you into a rage. But right then, as you teased his cock between your folds, it only built up your arousal. Grabbing his base, you carefully pressed him to your entrance. The slight touch made your pussy throb around the tip pushing past it; you enjoyed hearing his frustrated groans as you teased him into you. The other of you moaned together when he fully filled you; your body tensed and clenched at the hard cock twitching against your walls. You closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in him. You forgot about the quarrels and reality outside his bedroom door, choosing instead to focus on Aemond Targaryen and how his cock made you see stars. Grasping the bed sheets beneath you, you started rocking yourself with him inside you, feeling his head slide further. Aemond laid still, content to watch him slide in and out of you, while you started moving faster. 

Soon, yours and his moans grew louder when you bounced on him. He always hit the exact spot, angling himself to the weak point that made you unravel for him. How could anyone blame you for wanting this every night? You sometimes considered sharing a bed to make things easier; so you could have this as much as you liked. Aemond never said ‘no’. You recalled the times he’d cornered you in staircases and hallways, pushing you to a wall and taking you there where anyone could find you. Every time, he left you with weak legs and cum sliding down your thighs. If you slept in the same bed, you could enjoy the benefits of having him as your husband. 

Aemond slipped himself out of you, leaving a gap between your thighs as he rolled you onto your back and brought an ankle to his shoulder. Putting the other over his thigh and around his waist, Aemond went back inside in a new angle that made you roll your eyes back. His thumb continued rubbing your clit as before while he slammed his hips to yours. He kept his focus between your bodies, and awed at how his girth stretched you. You remained still for him to use as he wanted, a hole for him to pump until he came. You clutched the sheets bundled against your chest, needing something to keep you grounded, as Aemond blinded you to all sense. 

“Look at you,” he growled bending to suck and bite at your breast. The small twinges of pain only added to your desire. “My Lady Strong, surrendering her body over to me. I cannot fathom how disturbed your brothers would be seeing their big sister being fucked senseless,” he emphasized this with a few hard thrusts, “Her sweet cunt stretched and filled by me...” he smiled when you moaned loudly through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut and fighting off the urge to cum a bit longer. “Or perhaps...they might be jealous...” he stayed fully inside you a moment, “That they’ll never know how your body feels. Only I know...Only I know how your cunt squeezes me and pulls me closer when I’m ravaging you.” 

Aemond slid a hand up your body to your throat, giving a gentle squeeze and turning your next moan into a strangle gurgle. His words should upset you, but it almost brought you to the edge. He kept a hold on your throat even when he slipped out and laid behind you, pushing into your pussy and having you that way. Aemond continued spewing filthy words into your ear, playing on the fact you enjoyed his dirty talk, while pounding you. His fingers abused your overstimulated clit and his lips sucked and bit at your shoulder and neck. 

“Aemond, Aemond,” you struggled to say his name, “Aemond...”

“Yes, Lady Strong?” he taunted, going deeper to hear you whine each time. “Do you have something to say or simply enjoy moaning my name? I personally prefer the latter.”

“Please,” you gasped when he released your throat, “Let me...Let-Le-Let me...”

“Cum? Is that what my lady wishes, hm?” 

“Y-Yes. I cannot hold on...hold on much longer, oh gods, Aemond, fuck, please.” 

“You’re going to,” he demanded, withdrawing from you right when you felt it approaching, “Until I decide you can.”

“You absolute arse-Ah, Aemond!”

He sunk down between your legs again and buried his face to your drenched clit. You stayed on your side, knee lifted, and grinded into his mouth. You wriggled each time his tongue swiped over your clit; it sent a whole new sensation that drew your orgasm forward. He snickered knowing what he was doing to you, and how you’d folded immediately for him. You hated it, but couldn’t help enjoying the feeling of his tongue flicking your pussy before spitting on it. Sliding a hand into his silky silver hair, you kept him right where you wanted him as he dipped his tongue into your fluttering hole. You used his tongue, the tip of his nose brushing your clit while his chin cupped the underside. Aemond did not protest to you quite literally fucking his face. He loved it, and showed that while groaning small vibrations with his tongue. Yet, the moment your body began to tense and shake, he pulled away from you and laughed at your disappointed whimper. 

Aemond said nothing as he dragged you by the ankle to the edge of the bed, the movement requiring no effort for him with all his strength. Propping you onto your knees, Aemond spat on your pussy again, rolling his wet tongue over it before spitting once more. He loved your sex sloppy and wet. It excited him whenever you came to him already soaked and wanting. Satisfied with his work, he sunk back inside and grabbed both your arms. Pulling them behind your back, he bounced your body on his pelvis in a steady rhythm. The restraint would ache your body later, but nothing in you cared about later. The new position made you nearly scream from the pleasure coursing inside you. You tried so hard to chase your climax on your own; you needed it badly, and Aemond knew that. 

“Well, well, well,” another voice said, and you immediately felt ashamed. “What do we have here?”

You turned your head to see Aegon walk up to the bedroom area of the apartment, leaning against the divider frame on the top step. Violet eyes gazed over your naked, sweaty form as Aemond continued using you. He wore his traveling cloak, shirt and breeches. No doubt he’d just returned from the city and planned to visit his brother with a bottle of wine he’d brought. Shame crept up on you being exposed to the young prince this way. You hated how his eyes drank in the scene before him, immediately locking on you and your naked body. He walked over to the bed, smirking and crossing his arms, and said, “Looks like Lady Strong is finally being put in her place by my little brother...Is this what you like? Being fucked like a whore just like your mother?”

“Fuck you,” you spat at him, but he only laughed at the reaction. 

“They really get riled up whenever we mention it, don’t they?” Aegon asked his brother, who’d stopped thrusting. He knelt on the bed in front of you, Aemond lifting you until your back touched his chest. Both brothers chuckled once they saw the state of you. Aegon pinched your chin, causing you to look at him, “Such lovely lips,” he said, pushing drool from your chin back into your mouth, “I think I’m going to enjoy having them wrapped around my cock.” 

“You’d be surprised the things this one can do with her mouth,” Aemond groaned, bottoming his hips into you so you opened your mouth in a moan. “She certainly enjoys sucking my cock whenever given the chance.”

Aegon huffed and hurriedly untied his breeches. Aemond let you fall forward onto the bed until Aegon lifted you onto your hands by the hair. Holding himself at level with you, he slipped easily into your mouth. It felt strange having a soft dick in your mouth, the velvety skin rubbing over your tongue and reaching your throat. Aemond continuing to use your cunt, your moans became muffled by Aegon’s cock. You couldn’t help feeling embarrassed. Giving into your mother’s enemies, even if married to one, was not what you’d planned when you came to Aemond. Yet, both Targaryen men did not seem to care. Slowly, Aegon grew harder and moaned louder when he started hitting the back of your throat. Drool started leaking from your lips, the sound of your gagging encouraging both men further. Each thrust left you desperate for air and tightness in your chest. But, you liked this feeling. You enjoyed the slight restriction it gave every time he did it. The combination of sensations burning your body brought you close to your orgasm again. 

Deeming himself hard enough, removed his shirt as his brother withdrew from you again. 

“Has she finished at all?” Aegon smirked, removing his clothes with his stiff member sticking up to his stomach. 

“Not at all,” Aemond flipped you onto your back in the middle of the bed. He lifted your legs so Aegon could see your swollen, throbbing pussy, which made you feel more humiliated. “I never let her until she’s given me what I want. Isn’t that right, Lady Strong?” he slapped your pussy hard, which made you whine and buck your hips around. Your reaction made both brothers laugh out loud. He spread your legs apart, leaning over your hips, and spanked your sex a few more times. “Isn’t it?” he asked again, spitting on your pussy and slapping it again, “Answer me, whore.”

“Yes, yes!” you cried when he gave a particularly hard slap, “Yes...”

“Let me try her out.” 

Aegon forced your knees to your stomach until you folded in half. Unlike his brother, he did not tease or go slowly. He forced himself fully into you, moaning and shutting his eyes when you encompassed him. Pinned down by your own body, you could only lay there and let him have his way. He wasn’t as long as Aemond, but you definitely felt him stretch you. His head hit right where you became weakest, causing your thighs and knees to tremble each time he touched it. Aemond’s hand rubbing and spanking your clit only heightened your pleasure. You couldn’t believe it. You felt so ashamed, yet so aroused by it. 

“Clean my cock,” Aemond prodded his head to your mouth, “Clean me up before I go back in.”

You weakly opened for him, immediately tasting yourself on his length. Your jaw began aching from having your mouth open so long, but you enjoyed it too much to care. A thick mixture of fluids gave Aemond easy entry, and he slid fully to you throat. It hurt being breached so many times in one night. He kept you still by the hair, thrusting in while also rapidly and lightly running his fingers over your clit. You could feel your eyes tear from the pressure building and being withheld from you every time Aegon pumped into you. He pulled out of your mouth, streaks of fluids leaking from his tip, and tapped it onto your face. 

“Filthy whore,” he sneered, wiping his wet cock over your face and mouth, “I suppose it is true what they say about bastards: They truly are products of sin and lust.”

“And this one is a very nice product,” his brother agreed.

Aegon kept himself on his fists as he went faster. His eyes stayed focused on his brother using your mouth. You saw the laughter behind his eyes. The satisfaction he must be feeling seeing his niece be used this way. It disgusted you, yet you wanted him to make you cum so much you gave him a pleading look. When your pussy tightened around him, he instantly pulled out and laughed at your wriggling. He continued smiling as he instantly started licking your pussy, not minding the various fluids leaking from it. Aemond stopped teasing your clit to let Aegon take over, and went to pinching your nipples with his wet hand. He rolled both between his fingers at the same as Aegon flicking you, both of them being merciless in their teasing. You nearly came several times during this, though each stopped once they sensed it. You almost cried from the denial. 

“Aw, is our cock sleeve crying?” Aemond teased, slapping himself on your cheeks where he saw tears. “Is this too much for you?”

“Ye-yes,” you nodded, “Please, let me cum. Please.”

“But, we’re not finished,” he said as if it were obvious. “If you’re a good toy for us, we’ll let you cum as much as you want, but for now, this is about our pleasure, not yours. Understand?” he smacked your face with his cock again before putting it back into your mouth, not giving a chance to respond. 

“My brother is insanely lucky,” Aegon’s voice remained muffled by the clit in his mouth, “Having the luscious, gorgeous Lady Strong all to himself whenever he pleases...If only the Gods favored me so...” 

“I wouldn’t mind sharing,” Aemond said, pushing back into your mouth. “We are brothers, after all, and our mother always said sharing brings people closer.”

“So much closer.” He swirled his tongue over your pussy, fingers dipping and curling inside you suddenly, and continued the torture so you moaned around Aemond’s cock. “But, there is one hole I think my brother hasn’t tried yet,” 

He pulled out his fingers, coated in your slick, and went down to your buttocks. You jolted when he slid his fingers between them; he didn’t mind them being squished down, as long as you felt his fingers brush your hole. 

“Trust me,” Aemond sighed, forcing himself deep in your mouth, “I have many times. She loves it. She’s never cummed harder than when I’ve fucked her ass.” 

“Is that so?” Aegon asked, continuing to rub your ass hole while licking your clit. “I’d love to test that for myself.” 

“At least let me fuck her while you do that,” he grunted back, “I fear I might finish if I stay in her perfect mouth any longer.”

“Fine.”

Aegon moved away as you weakly straddled Aemond again. They kept you pressed to Aemond, who brought you into a deep kiss, while Aegon guided Aemond’s dick into your pussy. Your pussy still filled once more, you began bouncing on him out of habit. The brothers laughed at your desperation.

“Look at her,” Aegon laughed, giving your ass a spank, “So desperate for our cum, isn’t she? Do not fret, Lady Strong, you will get it soon.”

“Very soon,” Aemond held you down against him, continuing to kiss you while slowly pushing up inside you. 

The thing that drove you wild was feeling Aegon spread your ass cheeks apart. His tongue started sliding around the rim, occasionally sliding up to your crack and back down to where you and Aemond met. Aemond huffed whenever he did this. You could’ve sworn the elder brother licked over his balls once or twice, before returning to your ass. Keeping you spread open, Aemond whimpered at the slight teasing your heat brought. His tongue brushed around yours in each deep kiss, more fluids leaving your mouths. 

“He’s going to fuck you in your ass,” Aemond said in your ear, biting at your throat, “And you’re going to love every second of it.”

“Wait...”

“Don’t worry, love,” he said, “It only hurts for a moment. Aegon will be gentle with you...Oh, fuck, fuck, Aegon...”

You heard a soft humming come from below, and knew what Aegon did to Aemond. It excited you somehow. The thought of the two brothers locked in a passionate embrace some drunken night long ago made you start riding Aemond again. They let you enjoy this pleasure for a short time, however, before a finger slipped into your ass. The feeling alien and surreal, your eyes closed to savor the new pleasure burning you alive. Your body began feeling weak and pliable; they could do whatever they wished, as long as you were allowed to finally cum. Aegon kept his fingers at a gentle pace while he focused his tongue elsewhere. You knew where based on how Aemond’s head tilted into the pillow and his nails dug into your flesh. Aegon even pulled him out of you at one point, and you heard soft humming come from below, a bit of spitting before putting him back inside you. 

Soon, you felt something hard push to your hole. Thicker and harder than fingers, you braced yourself for the plunge. Aegon went inch by inch, giving you a second to adjust before going further. Aemond held you close, kissing you softly and muttering encouragements while his brother went hilt-deep into your ass. Having both brothers fully inside you completely undid you. They each slowly thrusted together, both of them hitting each side of the same spot. 

Neither of them stopped you once you came. You came hard and loud when they finally started going faster. Aegon teased your nipples while Aemond rubbed your clit to add more fuel to it all. Your screams filled the space of the bed, your orgasm hitting you hard and making your body contract. Your muscles shook as you feverishly pushed back into both cocks. You never imagined having two before. It felt better than anything else Aemond has ever done to you on his own. When you started coming down, trembling and quaking between them, they each withdrew from you and let you flop onto the bed below. Rather than stroke themselves...

Aegon and Aemond stroked each other. It seemed to heighten the pleasure for them both, making them both gasp and whine as they orgasmed. You laid there, touching your sore sex, as you watched them jerk each other off. Aemond’s large hand moved swiftly and easily over Aegon’s leaking cock, while Aegon squeezed the tip of Aemond’s each time he went to it. You wondered, as you begged them to cum on you, how many times they’ve done this. You wanted to see them do it again. Soon, the droplets of semen started spraying from their tips onto your body, leaving streaks of hot cum on your breasts and face. You kept your mouth open for whatever drops reached your mouth, which excited both of them further. 

When they finally finished, Aegon and Aemond fell onto the bed with you. You felt sticky, sweaty, and sore, yet also satisfied and elated from the sex. You thought it’d ended before Aegon started licking cum from you to put into your mouth with kisses. Aemond laid content to watch his brother kiss his wife, enjoying the sight of their tongues swapping what he’d just sprayed over you. This was usually the part where you wiped yourself clean, pulled on your gown, and left Aemond alone. However, your body became heavy with exhaustion and you doubted you’d be going anywhere. 

“How do you feel?” Aemond asked, a hint of concern in his voice as he rolled onto his side. 

“Tired.”

“She’s not the only one,” Aegon said in a stretch, “It’s been too long, Brother. Far too long.”

“I agree.” He pecked your lips softly, and whispered, “Stay here with me. I like keeping you close when I’ve finished breaking you apart...” 

The way he phrased it made you deepen his next kiss. By no means did you heart warm or melt at the kiss. These men will no doubt make it known what you’d done here today, whether in snide remarks near your mother or insults to your brothers. They’ll bring it up to silence you during arguments or simply to watch you turn away shamefully. Perhaps you’ll do the same by bringing up how Aemond nearly came when Aegon licked his balls. You kissed Aemond deeper, feeling a hand slide between your thighs. 

You’d learn that Targaryen lust is absolutely insatiable. 

****

A/N: Wow, that really took a turn lol I know it was meant to be only Aemond x Niece, but I couldn’t help it with the TGC brain rot I’ve been experiencing. Hope you guys liked this one! <3 

[seospicybin]

LEE KNOW

MY WORKS ARE NSFW & 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

These are purely works of fictions. There is now way it represent Stray Kids in any way.

* S for smut. F for fluff. A for Angst.

Appetizer. (s,f) Lee Know made you help him cooking for your dinner date but first, appetizer!

Knit. (s,f) Something flickered inside Minho the second he saw you wearing his clothes.

Pillowtalk. (mild smut, f) Even after a great sex, would Lee Know be able to answer some of your most existential questions?

Cake. (f, suggestive) Minho let you have a taste of his birthday cake and unwrap his gift.

Impatient. (s) Part I / Part II You and Minho just couldn’t keep your eyes and hands off of each other.

101. (s,f) Knowing that his best friend just got a new girlfriend, Lee Know feels the need to teach him how to properly ‘touch’ his girlfriend with a help from you.

Peach. (s,f) Lee Know thinks that certain smell brings back certain memory, but what is it that reminds him of you?

Midnight Blue. (s,f) Part I / Part II / Part III Despite feeling like you were destined to meet each other, your relationship with Minho was doomed from the very beginning. But when another chance comes knocking, Minho is willing to go against all odds to make you stay.

Blueprint. (s,f) Part I / Part II You never worked with a partner before but when it involves the importance of your future, you willing to put up working with Minho.

Strangers. (s,a) Part I / Part II It’s no surprise that Minho treats you like a stranger, especially to you who have just joined the company, but you know there’s more it and you try to find a way to change that.

Cutscene. (s,f) ACT I / ACT II This will be the first time you play a main character in a drama but the problem is Minho will be your co-star. People would consider it lucky to play alongside such famous, talented actor, except that you’ve been secretly holding a grudge against him.

The Crowd. (s,f) Wrong Crowd / In The Crowd / Crowded. You meet Minho again at the high school reunion, the kid who used to sleep in class turns a tattoo artist.

Don't They Know It's The End Of The World? (s,a) Part I / Part II Making a contact with an ancient object, you meet a demon who takes form of the man you desired and forces you to commit terrible acts to stop the world from ending.

One Bite. (s,a) A part of One Series. There’s nothing more enticing than the forbidden apple and Minho’s forbidden apple takes in the form of you, a girlfriend of his close friend but all he only needs is one bite. But does one bite will ever be enough?

Too Hot Too Handle. (s) You and Lee Know become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle.

Viewfinder. (s,f,a) Seungmin x reader x Lee Know. Part I / Part II An accidental reunion sets the sparks fly between you and Seungmin, but the relationship takes a turn at the end of the summer and you seek help from your frenemy, Minho.

0325. (s,f,a) skz x reader. SIDE A A series of short fics inspired by Stray Kids songs.

[theperfectawful]

Blind Item / Chapter 1

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC

Chapter 1: Gimme More

Rating: Explicit (18+) Series Summary: 2007. Hollywood, CA. As a former child star, you face the harsh reality of growing up in the unforgiving spotlight. A car crash on Sunset Boulevard and a cocaine scandal give you one option: Rehab. Reluctantly agreeing, you embark on a 90-day stay at Promises Malibu to attempt to salvage your career. But when Dieter Bravo arrives, your journey takes an unexpected turn. Drawn to each other, you navigate sobriety and the wreckage of your reputation. As the double standard of Hollywood's treatment of troubled stars becomes evident, you question if redemption is truly possible in a world of unequal consequences. Word Count: 11k

Content/Warnings: Age gap (~10 years, Dieter is in his mid-thirties), alternating POV, heavy drug use, illegal drug use, alcohol use, driving under the influence, frenemy dynamics, oral sex (f!receiving), dubcon/noncon, it is neither reader nor Dieter's finest hour when we meet them. Period-typical language and behavior, Hollywood assholes.

Notes: This is my first fic - I've never written or posted anything like this before, so please be kind and feel free to share any feedback or suggestions. I never would have been able to write something like this, let alone work up the nerve to post it, if it hadn't been for the kind and gracious support of @pennyserenade, @whatsnewalycat and @frannyzooey all lending me their advice when I slid into their DMs. They all inspire me endlessly with their work and talent and it’s because of their work that I was inspired to write something of my own.

Our reader is, for now, and unnamed OC. While I’ve done my best to avoid using physical descriptors of her, it should be noted that this story is a period piece that takes place in early 2000s Hollywood. The main character would have been a contemporary of stars like Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie, and there are certain assumptions I’ve made about what she looks like based on that factor of this particular story. The early 2000s could be dark, ruthless times, y'all, especially for young women in and effected by Hollywood. My intention is to examine that. Thank you for reading!

Desperate times call for desperate measures: sources say that this former child star’s team is working overtime to keep her employed. When she made her not-so-graceful exit from her latest film, the star cited conflicting schedules as the reason for her departure. The film’s producer has a different story: the Hollywood juggernaut has been heard around town calling the star unprofessional, accusing her of being late to her call times and using drugs in her trailer. She’s got a shot at a last resort: a return to television. Word is, the bad publicity has her team bargaining and drawing out sober contracts just to get her hired.

Whenever you were in town for work, you stayed at the Chateau Marmont. You were in Los Angeles often enough and long enough to justify buying a home there, but you refused, the idea of actually owning a home in LA never quite sitting right with you. Instead, you rented the same room each time you visited. You loved that little bungalow. The thick, lush landscaping shaded the windows and kept it nice and cool inside, and your front door was only a stone's-throw from the swimming pool. 

It felt like home after a few years, anyway. These old, tucked-away places were what you liked most about Los Angeles, unlikely, quiet havens hidden between sky-high condos and overly sleek offices. The building breathed old-Hollywood luxury, vintage tiles and original hardwood floors and the ghosts of silent film stars wandering the hallways. The staff knew you well. The same breakfast was delivered to your door at noon every day. The top-tier maid service employed by the hotel kept the living room, kitchen, bathrooms and second bedroom impeccably tidy, though they were given clear instructions not to enter your bedroom.

Your bedroom did not inspire the same glamorous aesthetic as the rest of the hotel. Clothing was piled high against the walls and pouring out of dresser drawers, tags and receipts discarded in the wake. Empty bottles cluttered the hardwood floors, clear, crushed water bottles and rattly orange pill canisters. A full ashtray sat on a side table, a makeup mirror and various products scattered next to it.

In the middle of the room was a king-sized bed, an antique walnut headboard sprawling against the wall with a mountain of sheets and blankets layered atop a deep mattress. You laid swaddled in those sheets, rubbing your palms into your shut eyes and groaning as you rolled over, dragging your hands wide across your face to peek out at the clock on your nightstand.

4:41pm. You blinked, straining your eyes to focus and confirm you read that right. 4:41pm. Fuck.

Bleary-eyed, you reached for your phone, met immediately by a barrage of missed calls and unread messages when you slid it open.

MELANIE [3:21 AM]: Bathrrom

PETE [3:36 AM]: Did u leave

CORINNE [9:00 AM]: Call with NBC @ 1. Please be available. Corinne Roxford.

MISSED CALL: CORINNE

CORINNE [11:30 AM]: Confirming availability at 1pm. Corinne Roxford.

(212) 555-4325 [12:06 PM]: Hey gorgeous ;)

MISSED CALL [12:30 PM]: CORINNE

MISSED CALL [12:45 PM]: CORINNE

MISSED CALL [1:00 PM]: CORINNE

CORINNE [1:03 PM]: ??? Corinne Roxford.

MISSED CALL [1:05 PM]: CORINNE

CORINNE [1:07 PM]: Call immediately. Corinne Roxford.

“Hiiiii,” a soft, tired voice called from across the room. You looked up, squinting, at your best friend Natalie leaning in the doorway to the bathroom.

“Mmmm,” you hummed in response, peeking out from where you lay buried in the sheets. “Hi.”

She crossed the room, kicking piles of clothes out of the way and perched herself on the corner of the bed, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. You cracked open one eye, locking eyes with her. In an unspoken acknowledgment of your situation - what you got into last night, the state you’re currently in, the splitting headache you’re certain she has, too - you raised an eyebrow at her. She smirked back at you and the two of you erupted into laughter. You lifted yourself up to sit, pushing your foot into her side from under the covers.

“You were insane last night!” she accused, still smiling as she resumed brushing her teeth.

“Me!” your voice was raspy and you coughed. “Me? You were the one making out with the bartender.”

“He wasn’t a bartender. He said he was with the DJ or something.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s better,” you snorted, the sound muffled by the plush pillows that cradled your head. You rubbed your palms across your face again, feeling the coarse texture of your own tired skin. The room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of morning seeping through the half-closed blinds. 

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, disrupting the quiet ambiance. You picked it up, groaning when you saw your manager’s name blaring across the bright screen. With a sigh, you slid it open.

“Hi, Corinne,” your voice was a hoarse whisper as you did your best to sound alive. Natalie stirred from her spot and crossed back to the bathroom, old floorboards creaking underneath her feet.

“I needed you on that call this morning. This is your career I’m trying to save here. Do you think I’m doing all of this for my health?”

“I mean… you’re not not…” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it. She is on your payroll.

“Very funny. I don’t think I need to remind you that you’re running out of friends and favors here, hun. I don’t think you want me to join that list.” Her sentence was punctuated by the sound of her horn honking and a muttered expletive. She sighs. “NBC still wants to speak with you, and soon, but they want to do a four-episode Growing special. The rest of the cast is on board, and they think if we play this right we can turn into a full-on reboot. But you have to straighten up, do you understand? I need you in the Santa Monica office first thing Monday to sign the paperwork.”

“I’ll be there. I promise.” Your eyes closed again, and you sunk into the plush embrace of the king-sized bed, the soft cotton fabric soothing against your skin.

“I don’t know how to make it any more clear to you how much trouble all of us are in. This is  your shot at a comeback.”

“I understand.”

There’s a bit of silence, the noise of New York traffic floating through the airwaves and into your ear. You insisted on total honesty from Corinne, unable to tolerate your team coddling you, so her words might have hurt more if this was the first time you’d heard them. Or maybe if the haze you’d woken up in were a bit thinner.

“Tomlin and the team will be in on Thursday night to get you ready for the VMAs. I’ll see you then, too.” Corinne changed the subject, her voice a mix of stern professionalism and genuine concern.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Your voice was sickeningly sweet, a defensive baby voice you switched into when you were nervous, a trademark of yours that had been mocked by everyone from ex-boyfriends to the cast of Saturday Night Live. Corinne said goodbye and you felt Natalie’s weight return to your side.

You groaned, long and drawn out, tossing your phone into the labyrinth of sheets and blankets surrounding you. The show she referred to was a reboot of the sitcom you spent your childhood working on - Growing Together. It's one-half cast reunion, one-half desperate, nostalgic cash-grab. The producer you sat across from at the pitch meeting was almost delirious with excitement - explaining what a smashing success it was sure to be, a “televised homecoming for America's favorite family.” It took so much strength not to roll your eyes right in front of him that you thought you’d pop a blood vessel.

“Are you in trouble?” Natalie asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

"Yeah, almost always," you replied, casual in your admission. As you sat up, fully awakening, you stretched and planted your feet on the floor. You chugged the warm Vitamin Water on your nightstand before reaching for your bag on the floor and digging through its contents. Gum, a fluorescent orange paper wristband, a baby pink Juicy Tube, a black and white photobooth strip of you and Natalie with your tongues out. Not finding what you were looking for, you dumped it out onto your bed and continued rummaging through the items and garbage inside. Your iPod, a receipt from the drugstore, 3 loose cigarettes and half a dozen empty quarter-sized plastic bags. You sighed, shoving everything back inside carelessly. 

“Did we finish everything last night?” You call out, patting the bed behind you, your gaze darting around in search of your phone.

“We?” Natalie’s laughter rang through the room. “I don’t know about ‘we!’”

“God, no wonder,” you muttered, the realization of this morning's particularly splitting headache dawning. Locating your phone again, you typed out a text message to your dealer, padding out of your room to the kitchen.

[5:13 PM]: Andyyyyyy. U going to Lush tonight?

You tapped the side of your phone restlessly for a beat, then texted again.

[5:13 PM]: Can you bring what u brought last night

In the kitchen, you opened the cabinet, revealing an array of neatly arranged pill bottles. Without looking, you pulled out a bottle of Advil and an empty glass. Seated at the kitchen table, engrossed in her Macbook, was your assistant, Rhea.

“Corinne’s pissed.” She said before she even looked at you, focused intently on the screen in front of her.

“Good morning,” you responded, filling your glass at the sink and beaming an exaggerated, pageant-queen smile at her. She scoffed in response.

“The sun is going down in… 40 minutes.” she retorted, her gaze flitting momentarily to the clock on the wall, then back down. You made a mockingly offended expression, hands lifting with dramatic flair.

“Time is a social construct, Rhea,” you declared, tossing back the Advil and chasing them with the full glass of water.

“Yeah, for you, maybe.” She muttered, still typing like a maniac.

You were fired six weeks ago.

The movie was meant to signal a departure for you, a leap into serious territory - a drama marking an overdue graduation from the teeny-bopper films you’d spent the last decade of your life making. You’d been lucky a year ago - a really excellent writer took a chance on an elevated high school comedy with you at the helm that had people in the industry, finally, taking you more seriously. 

Seriously enough to get you in the door, at least. Being on set gave you a different impression. You felt as coddled as ever, still treated like an unqualified child star whose presence was more of a slightly annoying novelty than a creative asset.

You wanted to be treated like an adult - a real actress, a professional. This movie was supposed to accomplish that. Despite the fact that this project had a huge, award-winning director attached to it, it was subject to the same issues you’d experienced on countless, lower-tier productions. Poorly communicated call times, technical issues, handsy producers hanging around your trailer. The latter issue caused you to insist on Rhea being by your side whenever possible - power in numbers in an attempt to keep greasy Hollywood exec’s hands away from you.

You weren’t going out any more often than you usually did. Now that you were old enough to not have to sneak into clubs anymore, you were having fun. Though your evenings often bled into mornings, occasionally pushing the limits of your call times, it felt manageable. However, Corinne was relentless in reminding you of the stakes and your professional expectations: show up, behave, perform.

That morning, exhaustion hung over you more heavily than usual. The night before, you’d been out celebrating Natalie’s 23rd birthday. A friend of hers had just returned from Amsterdam and brought with him a bag of European ecstasy as a souvenir. After Le Deux closed, you threw an after party at the Chateau’s pool, you and Nat drank champagne on your floaties as the chemicals rushed through your systems. Your fingers dipped in and out of the heated pool, the two of you gossiping and giggling and floating along until the sun came up.

You were on set on time - early, in fact - but the MDMA had worn off and your energy was plummeting fast. You’d run through the scene several times with Rhea, but it didn’t seem to have helped much.

“Cut,” the director called out, sighing and stepping out from his position behind the camera. Your costar groans softly, standing up from his spot across from you and stepping away as the surrounding crew moves quickly to reset the scene.

“I’m sorry Alan,” you offered immediately as the director approached your mark. A makeup artist swoops in, tapping a brush to your under eyes.

“You’re furious with him, remember,” he coached you. “I understand it’s early, but I need you to manage to muster up some energy.”

You nodded, trying to focus despite the persistent buzzing in your head. “I’m really sorry.”

“I don’t need you to apologize to me like a punished child, I just need you to perform the way I’ve asked you to. Can you do that?”

"I'll get it right this time, I promise," you assure him softly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

He eyed you skeptically, his weaning lack of patience with you made clear by his expression.

“We’ll break for five.” He called out to the room, still staring at you as you stood up and shuffled off behind him.

Rhea arrived at your side with your cell phone and a Red Bull. You flip open the screen as you walk, quickly scrolling through your text messages and trying to distract yourself from your dull, nagging headache.

“That was okay, right?” You asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the uncertainty in your voice. “Is it as bad as he says?”

“You were fine,” Rhea’s voice was uncharacteristically high-pitched as she held out the straw of your energy drink in front of you. Her eyes flit back and forth, scanning the area, and her voice lowers into a whisper as she continues. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m tired,” You brushed her off, shaking your head and handing your phone back to her. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Rhea nods, a concerned eyebrow lifting as you arrive at your trailer. Everyone in your life was looking at you like that lately - as if doing anything less than completely coddling you would cause you to fly off the handle. The cautious glances, the careful choices of words, the subtle tiptoeing around your every move - especially from Rhea, who never gave a fuck about your feelings - it all grated on your nerves like an itch beneath the surface. 

She held out her hand and you took it quickly, grabbing an orange bottle from her and slipping through the door of your trailer.

In your trailer, you sat at the vanity and closed your eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths before opening them and gazing at yourself in the mirror. You opened the bottle, pouring out two small pills on the counter in front of you. Scanning the surface quickly, you located a plastic card and pushed it against the pills with the ball of your hand. You pushed it again and again, finally finishing and scraping the excess powder from the card onto the table. Dragging the powder into two lines, you leaned down to inhale them and stood straight back up. You licked your finger and picked up the excess residue, pushing it into your gums and taking a couple more deep breaths to re-center yourself.

The acrid taste of the pills gave you a Pavlovian surge of energy, the anxious buzz in your chest subsiding and easing into a steady hum. You sat at the mirror, dragging a finger underneath your eye to wipe smudged eyeliner from your face. You sniffled, forcing the action into another deep breath and staring at yourself in the mirror. You belong here. You do. You know what you’re doing.

A sharp knock at the door pulled you back to reality with a jump.

“Jesus,” You called out “Alright, Rhea, one second!”

“It’s Alan. Open the door.”

Fuck. You frantically began cleaning the counter in front of you - slipping the credit card into your pocket and brushing your hands across the surface.

“Now!” Alan boomed from outside.

“Okay, okay!” You moved to the door and turned the lock, opening the door just enough for him to see you. You sniffled again, trying to camouflage the reaction with a cough. “Yes?”

Pushing the door firmly, Alan moved into your trailer, his body dwarfing yours in the small space.

“Listen to me,” he said, low but firm. “I’m done. I’m not doing this with you. I am not letting you fuck up my movie.”

“What?” You were dumbstruck.

“Don’t play dumb. Not now. You know exactly what I mean.” He was inches from your face now and getting angrier by the minute. You swallowed, desperately looking around for Rhea. Tears stung the corners of your eyes and you fought them, willing yourself not to blink.

“They’re prescribed,” you attempt. It doesn’t work.

“I don’t care what you do on your own time,” he continued “But this is mine. This is important to me and to everyone else out there whose livelihoods depend on this project, and I’m not going to let some spoiled, coked-out little actress spoil it.”

Your face burned with humiliation.

“Corinne fought hard to get you on this project. This was more of a fucking favor to her than you. But this movie does not live and die by your actions, do you understand me? You can kill yourself if you insist, but you will not pull my movie down with you. You’re fired.”

Your jaw dropped. You were unable to find words let alone choke them out. Rhea’s face was stark white when you spotted her just outside the door of your trailer, her cell phone firmly against her cheek, whispering into the receiver with her eyes wide.

“This is no longer viable for me or anyone else on this crew. I want you off my set now.”

You couldn’t move, your heart pounding in your chest. He stood there for another moment before exiting the trailer and slamming the door behind him. The force of the slam caused the door to open slightly, revealing Alan standing in front of Rhea.

“I don’t want to see you here again.” He said to her, loud enough for you to hear, his voice stern and uncompromising. “You’re lucky I don’t call the cops on you for bringing drugs on my set.”

You hung in the doorway as he stormed away, and as the room swirls into focus you see the eyes of the crew on you, their faces filled with curiosity and concern. Turning your head, you quickly blinked away your tears and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand.

Officially, you’d been let go due to ‘scheduling conflicts’. It was flimsy, Hollywood jargon for your star showing up fucked up, and unfortunately, the euphemism did little to quell the relentless scrutiny surrounding you.

Rhea had shown you the footage of you that began making the rounds after your firing was announced - a creepy, shaky video leaked by some PA of Alan berating you on set, cut with another clip of you walking around the soundstage. It was embarrassing - your hair was disheveled and you were pacing around in a way that looked strange out of context, but there wouldn’t have been anything interesting about it at all if the rumor hadn’t gotten out that you’d been fired for your drug use. Since then, the attention on you had been relentless.

The paparazzi had been a regular part of your life since you were a young teenager. It, generally, wasn’t as bad in New York, which is part of the reason why you preferred to stay there, but in LA it felt as if you were never more than a few feet from a camera. 

When you were 16 and working on your first film after Growing Together ended, you started going to clubs with your coworkers. No one ever gave you any trouble, and you didn’t even start drinking until you were 18, but despite that, the mere optics of a child star reveling in nightlife proved a lucrative angle for the media to exploit.

Since then, you were followed almost constantly. Leaving home, returning, getting groceries, getting your nails done, driving through McDonald’s - flashing lights in the corner of your eye were such a regular thing that you barely even noticed it anymore. There were photographers you knew at this point, friendly ones who knew your angles and creepy ones who constantly tailed your car.

It’d never been like this before, though. Literal throngs of photographers showed up anywhere you went, watching you like hawks, all waiting to swoop in on the slightest slip up. Going shopping was an event that needed to be scheduled in advance, boutiques needing to be warned that you’d be coming in so that they could prepare to lock doors behind you. Every step, every breath, felt scrutinized and captured for public consumption, leaving you suffocated beneath the weight of it all.

You were so angry about being let go - your behavior, truly, was no different from what any other actor your age was doing. You partied with your friends, you were out late sometimes, but you knew you were a good actress. It had been your passion since you were a child, and it was beyond frustrating to hear people tell you they loved you and wanted to see you win and then have them turn against you the moment you made a mistake.

So, although you’d behaved and spent the first week or two lying low at the insistence of Corrine, you were over it now. You stayed in LA, uninterested or unwilling to go home to your family and friends in New York and explain to them what's been going on. You were going out with Natalie every night, usually to Le Deux or Lush or Teddy’s. You stayed out late and slept in late and generally just did your best to avoid confrontation with any paparazzi or journalists or producers you’d pissed off.

You weren’t lying to Alan when you told him you were only taking what had been prescribed to you. It just happened that a lot of things had been prescribed to you. Lately, you’d been alternating between Adderall and MDMA for the last week or so, making you too speedy and anxious to really dwell on the current state of your career. You were, admittedly, running through your prescriptions more quickly than usual, causing you to need to make some calls in order to fill in the gaps.

Throughout dinner, you anxiously slid the screen to your Sidekick open and shut, open and shut. You thumbed through the wheel of apps, trying to will into existence a text from Andy that didn’t seem to be coming. It’s not exactly like you expected rigid punctuality from the guy who sold you drugs, but his radio silence was making you antsy.

[9:05pm]: Hellooooooooo

Natalie exclaimed as a tray of shots was delivered to the table, echoed by the group of acquaintances that you met up with at Don Antonios, the restaurant you always went to before a night out. Eagerly, you took one off the tray, blindly grabbing another as you knocked the first one back. You chased that shot with the other, the warmth of the liquid making you feel more like a human being and less like a raw nerve.

Seated to your right in the booth was a girl you kind of knew. She was always hanging out on the fringes of your group, some friend of a friend of a friend who was for sure going home and telling everyone she partied with you. She’d been gawking at you all night, beady eyes locked on you since you sat down, craning her neck and sitting uncomfortably close to you, your dress pinned under her studded jeans. You’d been resisting the urge to ask her what the fuck her problem was for the better part of an hour. As the group around you became distracted by the arrival of the shots, you seized the opportunity to confront her.

“Can you please get off of my dress?” you spat.

Her eyebrows shot up as she took her eyes off of you for what felt like the first time that evening to look down, apologizing and scooching over. She had tall red stilettos on and, when she looked back up at you, you could see the smudged mascara on her eyelid. Just as you were going to take the opportunity to move away from her, she leaned over to talk to you over the noise that surrounded you.

“Sorry. Hey, I’m Katie.”

You grimaced, not in the mood to talk to this person.

“Hi.”

You turn away for a beat, but your attention is grabbed again by Katie’s voice lowly in your ear.

“Hey, I have Xanax, if you want one,” the offer took you by surprise, the prospect lighting you up immediately.

“Oh, my god, I love you,” you said, quickly turning towards her and extending your palm. “Please?”

Downers really weren’t your thing, even booze wasn’t your favorite, but this evening was going to turn from boring to maddeningly insufferable fast if you didn’t get your hands on something.

“I know someone who needs one when I see them,” she laughed, discreetly dropping two pills into your palm.

The clubs in LA were the same thing every time. You showed up in big black SUVs, posed and made nice for the photographers outside for a moment and then clamored inside towards the booth that was waiting for your party. 

It felt like high school. Well, you assumed, since your high school experience took place entirely on set. You saw the same people everywhere, all scattered around the room, broken up into their own little cliques. All gossiping, the room alive with murmurs and whispers. Who’d just shown up? Who was fighting with who? Who’d stolen whose boyfriend? It all felt so juvenile, but not being here was worse, so you put up with it. The people changed, but not really - you usually ended up surrounded by the same cast of promoters, wannabe socialites and greasy LA club dudes, swapped out every couple weeks by stand-ins and understudies and new arrivals. They circled your table like vultures, mingled with one another and made use of your tab while you sat engrossed in your Sidekick.

The night became slightly more tolerable once you’d taken one of the bars Katie gave you, but you were still desperately trying to get a hold of a dealer. By the time you left the restaurant and were climbing into the backseat of your car to head to Lush, you’d even resorted to texting backup options, people you’d partied with once or twice who you suspected might be around. 

Sinking into the plush booth, you let your head loll to the side, eyes shutting against the assault of strobing lights. The steady, pumping rhythm of the bass sent a rattle through your bones.

After a minute, Natalie's hand landed gently on your knee, snapping you back to reality.

“You okay, girl?” She asked. Her voice felt distant, barely audible over the pounding bass reverberating through the room. The glitter on her eyelids shimmered in the blue light, the only part of her face you could clearly make out in the shadowy corner of the booth.

“I’m fine,” you answered impatiently, kicking your feet up into the seat next to you. Just then, your phone finally buzzed, your heart skipping a beat as your dealer’s name flashed across the screen

ANDY [11:03PM]: not goin tonite

You scoffed, pausing for a second before furiously tapping out a response.

[11:03PM]: FUCK U ASSHOLE

You hit send and threw your phone into your purse with a huff. You were going to have to come up with something else. Or maybe just slit your wrists right here at the table instead.

You surveyed your group as bottle service brought two large bottles of tequila to your table along with a tray brimming with shots. knew all it would take was a couple hundred bucks from a photographer outside for them to spill about how you’d begged them for coke. They'd probably do it for free just for the attention. You'd already asked Katie, but all she had was Xanax and a joint, and Natalie would've let you know if she got a hold of anything else.

You started scanning the rest of the room, looking for anyone you knew. The club was packed, some sort of launch party that’d booked a huge DJ filling even the VIP section from wall to wall.

Suddenly, your attention was grabbed by the sound of a man shouting at the booth directly across from yours. He was the typical guy you'd find in places like this: a douchey-looking producer type, each of his arms wrapped around two miserable-looking models to his left and right. Intrigued, you followed his gaze to see who he was yelling at.

Oh, bingo.

Dieter Bravo. You recognized him instantly. An actor like you, you knew you’d seen him around at award shows and parties, but you’d never met. His reputation preceded him, though; you knew he partied, knew that he, too, had been let go from movies due to 'scheduling conflicts' more than once. You knew he’d been in trouble for drugs. Last you'd heard, he'd been in the news for cheating on his wife or something. You were certain that all it’d take was a little bit of flirting and buttering him up to get him to share whatever he had with you.

Without a word to anyone, you rose from your booth, ignoring Natalie's questioning as you strode towards Dieter's booth. Immediately, though, you lost your footing, lightheaded from standing up too quickly. You brushed it off, saved from a fall by someone at your booth. Straightening your dress, you grabbed a bottle of tequila before pivoting on your heel and starting back towards Dieter.

Dragged out against his will, Dieter was a guest of honor at a launch party for Elysium Fragrances, the cologne brand he’d shot a campaign for last year. His presence was requested tonight as a make-good for being a no-show at the launch of his own campaign, instead being spotted that evening by the California Highway Patrol speeding down the Pacific Coast Highway with a model in the passenger seat. 

He’d been stopped by a cop as he attempted to pump gas, some asshole photographer seizing the opportunity to swoop in on the interaction and hurl all sorts of insulting names at his date. Dieter lost his patience, blowing past the cop to shove the paparazzo to the ground, shattering his camera in the process. He was arrested that evening on five charges - assault and battery, destruction of property, drunk and disorderly conduct, assault of an officer (come on) and, thanks to a thorough search of his car, possession with intent to distribute.

As his smug-faced mugshot circulated the tabloids, it eclipsed the glossy editorial photos that the brand had invested millions in. The extravagant campaign was reduced to a joke, its over-the-top glamour juxtaposed with candid snapshots of Dieter’s angry face shouting at the photographer.

Unbelievably, the brand hadn’t thrown him out then and there. He almost wished they had - he preferred the couple of nights he spent in jail to the following days spent in meetings, his team arguing with Elysium over their ability to sway this and use his reputation to their advantage. Ultimately, they maintained his status as a face of their brand as well as his 6 million dollar contract, with the stipulation that he shoot another campaign and make himself available for any event, launch or party the brand requested for the next year.

Being asked to party in exchange for six million dollars was a sweet deal - he understood that - but the reality of being a cosmetics brand’s puppet meant that he ended up at the same fucking parties week in and week out, always babysat by an appointed employee of the brand or, failing that, someone on his payroll.

Tonight was particularly torturous. The tabloids had latched onto the whispers of his crumbling marriage - rumors that were, fortunately or unfortunately, completely legitimate. Heidi was meant to be the one to tie him down, set him straight, clean him up. Their wedding photos looked like a fucking editorial, glossy photos ran with headlines predicting their domestic bliss. But a year and a half, a relapse, a DUI, and a string of affairs - all on his part - had shattered those illusions.

Last week, Dieter returned home from a 3-day bender to Heidi’s mother on the landing at the top of his stairs. She was screaming and hurling the contents of his closet at him, plus whatever else was within arms reach. Heidi, her once-bright eyes now dull with tears, cowered in a doorway behind her mother, slamming the door behind her when he called out in an attempt to reason with her. Her mom located his Oscar, hurling it towards his head with a warning to leave the house before she called the cops. He’d ducked just in time to avoid the statue concussing him, it instead crashing through the glass window of the door behind him.

The stories spread like wildfire, his team scrambling to reshape the narrative, casting Heidi as the cold, unfeeling spouse who couldn't handle his demons. They painted her as the villain, accusing her of rejecting him for his vices - after all, she knew who she married - all the while conveniently forgetting that she had stood by him through more than most people would be able to tolerate. It was an angle he wasn’t happy with; He may have been hedonistic but he wasn’t cruel. In the interest of giving her space and avoiding any additional negative attention sent her way, he moved out. He kept an apartment closer to town, and staying there made it that much easier to avoid any reminders of his failures.

The word on the poor, dejected husband had spread, causing every asshole he ran into tonight to look at him with the same pathetic, sympathetic expression. He resented their pity. He resented this party, this club, his obligation to be seen holding some stupid bottle of cologne in order to maintain his career. The four whiskies he'd downed had done little to numb him from it, and even the lines he'd snorted on the way over had failed to dull the edges of this evening.

You’d stumbled in about an hour ago, perching yourself in the booth across from his own. Your eyelids were heavy in a familiar way, his dirtbag instincts making him suspect you’ve popped a painkiller in addition to whatever you’ve been drinking. A group of giggly, hungry hangers-on swarmed around your table like flies, posing for pictures and parting only to let bottle service in and out.

Dieter knew you - or at least, he knew of you. The cute little starlet who always popped up next to him in the tabloids. He’d seen you in enough movies and on enough billboards to recognize your face, and he’d lurked around clubs like this often enough to have seen you before. Before you’d walked in, he’d resigned himself to an armchair as far back in the VIP section as he could find, determined to wait out the evening before bringing home whatever model ended up in his car. The whiskey he’d been drinking was only just beginning to kick in and he didn’t fight it, leaning back and willing the time to pass faster. But you… you were interesting.

Your gorgeous legs were stretched out along the booth, climbing up to the hem of your dress, a pink silky thing he imagined he could tear off of you with the smallest amount of force. Glossy lips pouted at your phone, eyebrows furrowed in a sweet little frustrated expression. When you looked up he didn’t look away - he kept his eyes trained on you as you looked around the room. You were looking for someone, obviously restless. A boyfriend? The thought twisted at his stomach uncomfortably and he willed himself to stop watching you, putting his glass to his mouth and draining it with a single swallow.

“Bravo!” a voice bellowed from his left, snapping him out of it. Clint - some hack from Elysium Fragrances and tonight’s designated narc waved enthusiastically from the booth next to him. “You gonna sit there and fuckin’ mope all night, bro?”

Fuck this guy. Like most of his brand-approved chaperones, he was content to accept the babysitting opportunity and spend the evening running up Dieter’s tab and shamelessly hitting on the girls at his table. The least he could do would be to leave him the fuck alone.

His attention returned to you when he heard a commotion from your direction. There you were, knees buckled, held at your elbow by one of the guys surrounding your booth. A couple of cell phone cameras lift and snap photos behind you as you attempt to compose yourself. He can’t take his eyes off of you as you stand back up, adjusting yourself, your little dress riding up for just a moment before you smooth it back into place.

The bottle he’d finished had begun to cloud his vision, so it took him a moment to realize you were stumbling towards him, your plush lips slightly parted as you swung a bottle of tequila at your side. Despite the haze, your smile was unmistakable as you arrived at his chair. When you held up the bottle with a subtle lift of your eyebrow, he nodded in agreement.

He wasn’t entirely sure if you climbed into his lap or if you simply floated there, an ethereal presence that captivated his senses. You were such a gorgeous little thing, soft legs draping over him effortlessly, while your electric fingertips traced delicate patterns along his arms.

“Where’ve I met you before?” You slurred, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt as you settled in his lap.

You were fucked up. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was now. Good - he was, too. His plan had been to leave, get one of the models at his table to come home and roll over for him without much effort, but passing the evening with someone in his same state of mind would spare him from having another dull fucking conversation tonight. Plus, you were so pretty, big black pupils dilated and fixed on him beneath the lazy black fan of your eyelashes.

“You tell me,” he answered, running his finger along the rim of his glass.

Did you know who he was? He goes along with your guesses as to where you’d met before. Miami, London, the Met, whatever you said, as long as you didn’t piece together that you know him from a TV show that aired when you were still in middle school.

Music blasted through the speakers surrounding you, strobe lights flashing and highlighting flecks of glitter on your shoulders. He lifted his hand to run his finger along the thin strap of your dress as you lifted the bottle up between you and raised your eyebrows in question. He nodded, holding up his empty whiskey glass. 

“Glastonbury?” You asked as you filled his glass. 

“That must be it,” he agreed, knowing he hadn’t been to Glastonbury since 1995, and clinked his glass against your bottle. He watched as you took a long draw from the mouth and could see the grimace you were holding back as you squinted, your throat bobbing as you swallowed. He followed your lead, emptying his glass in three big gulps. Your eyes flitted over momentarily to the group he came with, crowded around the booth to his left, then back to him.

“You alone?” You asked him, glossy lips smirking.

“Just like you.”

You let out a knowing chuckle and leaned in closer to him, tequila and lime and smoke on your breath as it mingled with his own. The way you dragged your lower lip through your teeth had his cock twitching, the combination of the chemicals in his system and you purring in his lap like a kitten destroying any shred of inhibition he had left. 

There’s an acknowledgment between people like you and Dieter. It’s one of those things that doesn’t lend itself to description, but he knew it when he saw it - in the mirror, in friends and acquaintances and enemies, in blown-up photographs on the covers of tabloids, suicides and DUIs announced in newsstands. Raw nerves covered in glitter, celebrity or civilian, death drives winning over life drives every time. He saw it in your dilated pupils and the way your thighs were rubbing together, the silk of your dress doing nothing to hide it. You’re like him, too, and most importantly, you know better than to ask why.

His hand cupped your face before he realized he’d done it and he closed the space between you, your lips soft against his the next sensation he was aware of. You tasted good, and he wanted more right away, deepening the kiss and digging his fingers into your thigh forcefully. He ran his tongue along the seam of your mouth, his own lips going numb as he licked into yours. He pulled you up to straddle him and you moved easily, hips lowering onto him immediately and settling, the lace of your panties brushing up against the thin fabric of his pants. His mouth trailed to your ear, worrying your earlobe between his teeth and guiding your hips to roll against his crotch again and again.

“You don’t give a fuck, do you?” He said, his voice low and hoarse in your ear. He knew you had the attention of his group and your own, not to mention anyone else who happened to look over, but it didn’t seem to matter to you. He knew you’d been in trouble lately - the same limelight, coming-of-age growing pains he’d been through himself several years ago - and his own instincts threatened to kick in and shield you from the excess attention. 

You laughed with a shake of your head, tossing your hair over your shoulder and, without looking away from him, lifted his hand from your thigh to your lips, dragging your tongue across the length of his index finger and popping it into your mouth.

Oh, you were fun. You were already making him hard, and he knew you could feel it as you grinded into him again and again, letting his finger drop from your mouth when he pressed his lips back to yours. He needed to be careful - the linen lounge pants he’d thrown on to come here would betray nothing if you kept it up much longer.

It’s a noticeable absence when you hum and pull away from the kiss, the urge for more of you rolling over him and causing his fingers to dig into your thighs possessively.

“Do you have anything… funner?” You asked, big, blown out eyes pleading as you lifted the tequila bottle up again. Aha. It just so happened he did - a baggie of coke he’d brought along just in case sat in his pocket, along with two tabs of acid. It didn’t seem like that kind of night, though, at least not yet. He’d stick with the coke.

“I might have something,” he replied, a genuine smirk spreading across his face for the first time that evening. He sat up straight, smacking your ass and biting your jawline at the same time, the yelp it pulled from you quickly transforming into a wild giggle and sending a rush of blood to his cock as he peppered kisses and bites down your neck to your collarbone. 

Quickly, he helped you to your feet and guided you through the crowded room, following you across the floor, his index finger linked with your pinky, prying eyes and pointing fingers meaningless to the both of you. You may have been stumbling, but you were confident. Or at least not at all concerned. A camera phone at the bar flashed and Dieter instinctively ducked his head, moving a hand to your hip to rush you forward and out of sight. 

Tucking into a hallway at the back of the club, he kicked a door open and hurried you inside a small, dark room. It was clearly an employee restroom, high piles of backstocked paper towels and toilet paper toppling over when he pushed you up against the wall harshly, his hands cupping your face, the cool metal of his rings pressed against your cheek.

He pulled a pink baggie out of his shirt pocket, opened it and tapped a bump of white powder out onto the skin between his thumb and index finger. He held it up to your nose and, without any question about what it was, where he got it or if he’d already tried it, you’d inhaled, one hand holding his steady while the other held your nostril closed. 

Fucking finally. Your head lit up immediately with euphoria and relief as the amphetamines rushed through your system and you melted against Dieter as he lifted you to perch you on a stack of cardboard boxes. 

You let him move you like a rag doll, smiling as he propped you back and tapped out two more bumps onto your chest and snorted them, running your fingers through his messy curls as he dragged his tongue along your cleavage, licking up what was left.

His lips found yours again, and the pungent taste of the powder on his tongue mingling with his taste drew you in closer. Looping your arm around his neck, your free hand clutched his bicep. The acrid taste turned pleasantly tingly on your tongue, a numbness spreading as it explored his mouth.

“Here, baby,” he urged, breaking the kiss breathlessly, and you hummed in response as he tapped out another bump on the back of his hand. You inhaled it again, then he used his finger to gather the remnants of the powder. Cupping your cheek firmly, your jaw relaxed under his touch as he rubbed the excess powder into your gums. You reacted instantly, closing your eyes and drawing his finger deeper into your mouth, succumbing to the rush of sensation.

He groaned in approval, your lips already open when he kissed you again, drawing him in for more, thighs parting to wrap your legs around him. The flimsy strap of your dress fell off your shoulder, the fabric across your chest following shortly after.

Blissfully content with the relief of the chemicals rushing into your bloodstream for the first time today, you went numb, rolling your head back and watching patterns dance behind your eyelids. You allowed Dieter to touch and move you at his will, his hands skillfully brushing the other strap of your dress off your shoulder, exposing your chest completely. A throaty moan escaped him at the sight, the gentle sway of your breasts moving with the rhythm of the rough push of his hips into yours. He drew you closer, his lips finding purchase on your skin. Roughly latching onto you, he drew your breast into his mouth, his tongue drawing circles around the peak of your nipple before switching to the other side of your chest.

Sparks shot down your spine and your mind went blank for a second, lost in the feeling of him against you, the synapses in your brain firing and lighting up. You snapped back into the moment when you felt him grasp your hand with his own, his fingers intertwined with yours. He guided you down to press your hand into his crotch, grinding the firm length of himself into your hold again and again. 

A soft moan escaped your lips, surrendering to the warmth and pressure of his body against yours. You tightened your grip around his neck, allowing yourself to fully yield to his control, your body pliant and responsive to his every move.

You’d fuck him, you figured, as you moved against him. He was good looking - now that you were feeling a little less edgy, you could appreciate it. Corinne would kill you if word got out, but he seemed like someone who knew a thing or two about discretion. He stiffened even more as he firmly thrusted into the cradle of your hand and you cupped your fingers around his length, the soft fabric of his pants allowing you to feel him completely. You walked your fingers up to his waistband, nails dipping under the fabric and pulling at it slightly. You’d go home with him. Whatever. You’d bring Natalie with you and you could leave by morning. He probably wouldn’t even notice a missing gram or two.

You followed the thought as he trailed kisses up your chest and neck, finally settling at your ear. His hand rose up your thigh, thick fingers dragging along the lace fabric at your center. The bundle of nerves there erupted at his touch and your thighs instinctively squeezed around him.

“Let me taste you, baby, please,” He growled just above a whisper into your ear. You arched your back into his arms, moaning and nodding in agreement, the cool porcelain of the sink underneath you causing your skin to goosebump as your dress rode up further. You opened your eyes, peeking at the chestnut brown curls, the color blending into the dark room surrounding you. Your eyelids felt heavy, and you fought to keep them open, wanting to stay present with him. But the warmth of his breath against your skin and the gentle touch of his fingers on your cheeks were lulling you somewhere else. You felt like you were floating, your vision blurred at the edges and you fluttered your eyes shut again, feeling his fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and stall there for a moment. 

Your fading in and out like that threatened to spook him away. You couldn’t be too fucked up. He lightly tapped your cheeks a couple of times, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Stay with me, baby," he whispered urgently. "Gotta hear you say it."

“Mmmm,” Dazed, faraway eyes looked up at him, your blown-out pupils mirroring his own. You nodded again, dragging your teeth along your bottom lip. Your pulse raced between your legs, and you felt your hips moving towards him, trying to ride something that wasn’t there yet. “Do it, Dieter, please.”

There we go. He smirked, lifting you from the stack of boxes to push you up against the wall and sinking to his knees. He bunched up the fabric of your dress at your hips, roughly pulling your panties down your legs, the black fabric hanging loosely at one ankle as he lifted your leg to hang over his shoulder.

You shrieked when he slid his tongue through your folds, your knee buckling when he repeated the motion, his strong hands moving up to your hips to support you. His tongue pushed wide against you, him tasting and exploring you as his fingers dug into your hips with bruising force.

He felt fucking amazing. You typically hated when men touched you, especially when you were high, but he felt incredible. You’d give him anything. Despite your rapidly dulling senses, the feeling of his tongue working your clit back and forth was at the front of your mind. He pushed his tongue wide against you again and again, fucking two thick fingers up into you without warning. 

You gasped, your mouth opening wide as you root your fingers into his hair to ground yourself. He wanted to wreck you completely, to smear the dark makeup around your eyes and watch that glossy mouth of yours stretch around his cock. His lips locked around your clit, and as the blood rushed to the bundle of nerves there you threw your head back, chest heaving, loud, wretched moans spilling from your throat.

With your senses dulled, he knew it’d take a little more to send you over the edge. A third finger pushed into you with a stretch, starting slow and working up to get in and out of your tight, soaked cunt. You moved your hips to match his rhythm, your pace hiccuping as he began working you faster and faster, working your clit between his teeth with a pinch.

Your moans were frantic, hitching higher and higher as he confidently worked you towards an orgasm, your surroundings blurring and swirling around you. 

THUD, THUD, THUD. Just as you neared your release, a loud pounding at the door shattered the moment.

He groaned in frustration, pausing briefly before attempting to resume. You struggled to regain your focus, your chest heaving with heavy breaths, nerves coiled tightly at your core.

The knock was followed by a muffled argument and the clanking of keys from the other side of the door. Reluctantly, Dieter's head emerged from between your thighs.

“Fucking assholes,” Dieter grumbled in frustration as he stood up, moving the straps of your dress back up your shoulders and quickly adjusting himself. You steadied yourself with a hand on his shoulder as you pulled your panties back up, frustration pounding angrily between your legs.

“Find me, alright?” He breathed, smoothing out your dress, his hand lingering on your ass and eyes slowly moving up your body. “I’ll take you home.”

You nodded as the door was thrown open, the bright, white light of a flashlight shining into the small room. You stood up straight, quickly fixing your hair in the mirror and sneakily grabbing the small, plastic baggie Dieter left on the counter, hiding it in your fist behind your back.

“Let’s go. Knock this shit off,” a voice bellowed from behind the light, which darted back and forth between you and Dieter. “We’re not doing this in my fucking club, get the fuck out, let’s go!”

“What the fuck is this?” Dieter asks, moving to stand in front of you and block you from the bright light.

“I’m sorry, man, I tried to stop him,” Another voice followed from outside the room. You squinted and peeked over Dieter’s shoulder, annoyance showing on your face. A large bald man in a suit held the flashlight and to his right was the small, douchey-looking guy you recognized from Dieter’s booth. Natalie’s head popped up behind the both of them, looking relieved to have found you.

“You’re not doing drugs on my floor and fucking little girls in my bathroom. That’s it, Bravo. Get the fuck out of here, let’s go,” the angry man repeated. Dieter raised his hands and murmured an apology to you as he shuffled out, one hand poised defensively in front of his face. He pushed out of the room past Natalie, her brows furrowed at him in confusion as he passed. His counterpart flocked to his side, immediately rushing into what sounded like a flurry of explanations and reassurances. Natalie slid into the room smoothly, wrapping an arm around you to usher you out. You stumbled at her side, annoyed and disoriented.

“I’m TWENTY-TWO, ASSHOLE!” You screamed at the man with the flashlight, attempting to shove him with your balled-up fists. He raised his eyebrows, bald head wrinkling and frown deepening. Natalie pulled you away from him quickly and you could hear her apologize behind you. “Don’t tell’um sorry, Nat, ’m not fucking sorry, I was in the fucking bathroom!” you slurred, your voice disjointedly raising and lowering in pitch.

“C’mon, babe, let’s go,” Natalie urged you.

“Yeah, ’s get the fuck outta here,” you agreed, stumbling as she shepherded you out. She handed you your purse and you quickly shoved your hand inside, dropping the half-empty baggie into the side pocket. One or two flashing lights from the crowd gathered at the bar stole your attention for a moment, but it quickly returned to the big, bald, interrupting gorilla with the flashlight. “This place SUCKS!” you screamed as you began to turn back towards him, leashed by Natalie’s grip around your arm.

“Let’s go,” she repeated firmly. You followed her through the crowded bar, stomping across the floor and ignoring the unending stream of heads turning towards you. The two of you shoved out the heavy metal doors of the club, clicking and flashbulbs immediately erupting around you as the cool evening air breezed across your skin. Your name was shouted from your left and right as Natalie dug in her bag for the valet ticket.

“Having fun tonight?” A photographer asked. You rolled your eyes. “Alright, over here, honey,” the same voice continued. With a resigned sigh, you turned to offer a practiced pose, your mind ticking through your media training despite how fucking annoyed you were. Stumbling a couple of times as you attempted to maintain your balance, you moved through a lazy pose or two. You knew the routine - let them get their shot and maybe they'll back off. 

“Partying tonight?” Another voice interjected. Moron.

Natalie finally located the ticket and the valet handed the keys over immediately, your car already parked and waiting curbside. Impulsively, you decided you’d drive, intercepting the keys before Natalie could take them and nearly smacking them out of the attendant’s hand before stumbling towards the vehicle.

“She’s not getting in the driver’s seat. No way,” reasons the voice of a man with a video camera to your left. “There’s no way!”

Another blinding eruption of flashing lights emerged around you. You stared down at your feet as you stumbled forward, trying to see where you were walking through the relentless assault of flashbulbs. Natalie called out your name from behind you. You struggled a couple of times with the handle before throwing the car door open heavily.

“Hey, you can’t drive, honey,” Another voice called out. You rolled your eyes.

You climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut, exhaling loudly as the noise of the chaos surrounding you finally muffled. Flashing lights continued, your windshield now completely blocked by cameras. The volume raised again for a moment, a cacophony of voices and camera clicks, as Natalie scrambled into the passenger seat beside you.

“Are these people serious,” you asked, angling your head in towards Natalie and shielding your eyes from the barrage of flashbulbs pointed at you, frustration mounting with each flash. “How’m I supposta drive when they’re fucking blocking me?”

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t.” Natalie said, concern in her voice. “Let me, okay?”

You shook your head adamantly. “’M not going back out there.”

“So climb over,” She suggested.

“Not in this!”

Natalie let out an exasperated sigh, her fingers tapping anxiously on her thighs.

“Hey, since when do you know Dieter Bravo?” She asks, momentarily changing the subject.

“Who? Oh,” you replied, the question registering with you once you answered. The reminder of him sent your attention between your legs and you shifted slightly in your seat. “I dunno. I know’hm from an awards thing.” You offered. It was an unconvincing lie, but Natalie didn’t fight you on it.

“He’s so random,” she laughed. “I can’t believe you hooked up with him. I think my older sister had a poster of him in high school. Right next to River Phoenix.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, everything about this evening now pissing you off.  The incessant clicking of the paparazzi's cameras only added fuel to the fire, and you narrowed your eyes in irritation, slamming your hand down on the horn for a solid ten seconds in a futile attempt to disperse them.

“MOVE!” you yelled, only inciting more flashing lights.

“Let me drive, babe,” Natalie tried again.

“Oh, my god, fuck this,” you snapped, frustration finally boiling over. With your hand still shielding your eyes, you shifted the car into drive. “You're my eyes now.”

“What?! No!” She replied, her voice rising in panic.

“Be my eyes. I’m going.” You repeated. Very slowly, you eased your foot off the brake, the car beginning to inch forward. Voices clamored outside the vehicle.

“Oh my god, um, okay. Go slow. Turn left. Slow!” Natalie began to guide you. The crowd cautiously parted around the car, photographers scrambling to avoid being flattened while still unwilling to sacrifice this shot. “Oh my god, this is so stupid. Slow, slow, slow.”

“They’re fuckin’ stupid! What am I supposed to do?”

“No, yeah, okay, just slow, keep going left.” Natalie's voice trembled slightly as she continued to navigate. The relentless barrage of flashing lights illuminated the interior of the car, casting everything in stark, blinding brightness. “Okay, cut it! Cut it and keep going straight.”

You cut the wheel to the right and straighten it out, cautiously peeking through the gaps in your fingers to confirm you'd cleared the throng of photographers.

“Haha!” you exclaimed, your laughter echoing through the tense air as you slammed the gas pedal to the floor once the street ahead is clear. With a screech of tires, you peel off into the night, Natalie's nervous chuckles mingling with your own laughter. “Bye, assholes!”

You rocketed down Highland with reckless abandon. A couple of familiar vehicles creeped up behind you - regular photographers who paid their bills by stalking you. The driver to the left’s hand hung out the window, a digital camera pointed squarely at you. The light was yellow at the intersection in front of you and you smirked, not letting up on the gas and rolling your window down to flip off the camera as you raced through the intersection just as the light turned red.

“Slow down!” Natalie yelled, panicked, her hand clutching the door handle in a white-knuckled grip. “What is your problem?”

“My problem?! These guys are the ones with the problem,” you fired back, your tone frustrated. “I can’t do anything without getting fucking cornered!” Your car veered dangerously across the yellow lines and Natalie yelped. You overcorrected, the vehicle lurching back into its lane just in time to avoid a collision with an oncoming car, its horn blaring in warning. Natalie’s body stiffened further in her seat as you took a wide right turn onto Sunset. You turn on the radio, a Rihanna song picking up midway through.

“Did he give you something?” she shouted, her tone urgent. You furrowed your brow, shooting her a confused look. “Dieter,” she clarified.

“Oh, right!” you exclaimed, mood shifting as you suddenly remembered the baggie tucked in your purse. “Look what I got us!” You reached for your bag on the passenger floorboard, swerving again. Natalie lunged across the seat, her hands fumbling for the wheel to correct your course, while a chorus of horns blared from the vehicles behind you. Finally retrieving your purse, you fished out the baggie from the side pocket and held it up between your fingers for Natalie to inspect. She grabbed it from you quickly, examining it in her lap.

“What is it?” She asked. You shrugged.

“Coke, I think. Shit, hold on,” you floored the gas to race through another newly red light.

“Stop!” Natalie shrieked. “This is so fucking stupid, dude, let me drive!”

“Jesus, Nat, fine,” you groan, slamming on the brakes. You both jolted forward as the car came to a stop in the middle of the road. “You wanna drive so bad, fine.”

You unlocked the car doors, opening yours slightly and reaching down to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Are you serious?” She scoffed, disbelief etched across her features as she surveyed the chaotic scene unfolding around you. You nodded in affirmation, a defiant smirk playing on your lips. “You’re such a bitch.”

With a surge of stubborn adrenaline, you stormed out onto Sunset Boulevard, Natalie following suit. The gray Honda belonging to one of the persistent photographers tailed you, coming to a halt beside you as the driver scrambled out, camera at the ready.

“LEAVE ME ALONE” you shouted. “I gave you your shot at the club, I’ve been nice to you guys, what more do you want?!”

You considered what it would take to get him to go away. Words weren’t working. Should you kick his car? Throw something? You began to stumble towards him, interrupted by Natalie yelling your name again. You turned around to see Natalie standing in the street, gaze fixed on the intersection ahead. Your car - which you apparently failed to put into park - was rolling into the intersection on its own. 

With a frantic surge of panic, you and Natalie sprinted after the runaway vehicle, the strobe of camera flashes behind you incessant. Arms flailing, you both desperately signaled to other drivers to stop, your heels clattering against the pavement as you raced towards the car.

As the car veered left, you were powerless to stop it from crashing into a parked BMW at the corner. Rushing to catch up, you flung yourself into the open driver's door, slamming on the brakes and throwing the gear into reverse. You leaned across the cab to fling the passenger door wide open.

“Come on!” You shouted at Natalie as she climbed back into the car. With a tense exhale, you navigated the car backward, turning wide in the intersection before screeching forward.

Your mind was completely clear with pure adrenaline. You were only a few blocks away from the hotel now, the castle-shaped outline shrouded in trees just ahead on your right. You floored it, a tense silence hanging in the car, both you and Natalie’s eyes locked forward on the road in front of you.

Only slowing down to make a right turn into the hotel driveway, you didn’t bother waiting for the valet. Tossing your keys onto the driver’s seat, you left the door ajar as you stormed through the garage toward your room, ready to put this evening behind you.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, round one of the major bracket

Propaganda:

For Nandor and Guillermo:

I feel like accessory to murder and cause of the murder counts, right? 

Classic vampire/human who wants to be a vampire except there's an understanding in the show of how messed up that is, down to Guillermo helping chop up the bodies of Nandor's victims to hide them for him. Then there's the added wrinkle of Guillermo finding out he's a vampire hunter by blood and actually very good at killing vampires. There is more than one incredibly erotically charged scene with Guillermo holding a stake to Nandor's chest. Their dynamic is fantastically complex, from Guillermo starting as Nandor's somewhat disgruntled servant to him besting the vampire in combat and becoming his bodyguard, to Guillermo getting tired of waiting and getting another vampire to turn him leading to a long jealousy arc culminating in Nandor nearly killing him... there's just so much going on with these two. Nandor flew to space just to impress Guillermo. They do a number of heinous things to humans and vampires alike, but through it all they are so in love and so rich with pining. One of these days they'll kiss, I'm sure of it. It's just a monumental slow burn with many vampiric atrocities along the way.

They aren't romantically canon yet, but dear lord. Both are canon queer, Guillermo is specifically gay while nandor is mentioned to be pansexual in interviews. Yeah they are everything and nothing. They fought and can kill eachother but they literally can't do it emotionally. Also forbidden love trope, vampire x vampire slayer /familiar/ body gaurd / best man. They make me unwell.

For John and Jack:

So, they both are literal murders. One of them is a little bit more insane than the other. Okay, the little bit part is not right, totally insane that is John, yes. But gonna love him though. He had been in rehab for alcohol, drugs, sex and murder. Don't kiss him, he might be wearing poisoning lipstick. They are canon mlm. They had been stuck in a two week time loop for five years, which was like leading a married life for them. They didn't actually marry, but they were partners, both in business and sexually. They worked together for an time agency. Then Jack's memories of two years were erased and he left. He went into  independent self deployment, doing scams using his knowledge of future events. After that he build an alien hunting institute in Cardiff, Wales. When John and Jack see eachother again after years, you don't know whether they will they kiss or fight. They do both. Did I tell you that along this story Jack became an inmortal who can't stay dead? No matter how or how often he dies or is killed, he keeps coming back to life. This is all very scraping on the surface, but oh boy, would it be at least a novella to describe them.

They worked together in the Time Agency where they did horrible things to the extent where Jack had two years of his memory stolen so that he couldn’t know what he’d done. They were also in a time loop together for five years where they canonically thought of each other as the wife (John was a good wife :3), and were basically married. Then they had a divorce arc and they both separately went rogue from the Agency to become conmen, although they still worked together/clashed on occasions, always still with that spark of passion. “Frenemies with benefits” Jack called them once, although John preferred “my lover, my rival, my nemesis and destiny. And bane of my bloody life.” Canon finds us where Jack has tried to reform and be a better person, but John is still chasing cons, and all he wants to do is bring Jack back to the stars with him, back to the crime and the glitter of the galaxies (it doesn’t work and he shoves Jack off a building but Jack got himself immortal so he’s fine <3) anyway I am very normal about them xoxo

In John's introduction to the series he shows up on a roof where some guy is mugging someone, grabs him by the throat and dangles him over the edge of the building while this guy begs for his life before dropping him just because he felt like it. When John and Jack interact for the first time in the show there's a super cool guitar riff, very evil western vibes, they walk up to each other, look deeply into each other's eyes, make out, then start throwing punches to Blur's Song 2. In one of the audio dramas we're told about various times where these two conned people, stole a bunch of money and gold and gems and stuff, then had sex with whoever it is they conned before (sometimes) killing them. When Jack devided he was done and left John to die John escaped and married the queen of England (Victoria) then locked Jack up somewhere to take his life force and live forever, destroying the timeline in the process. John has tried to kill all of Jack's friends at least twice to have him all to himself. He found Jack's long lost brother and when the brother turned out to be a terrible person with a vendetta against Jack John did everything he could to save Jack. Their relationship is canon but very one-sided most of the time

just this video

[random-thot-generator]

Love Thy Frenemy + Interlude

On the Streets of Soho: Just You

ONE SHOT/INTERLUDE

SIMON GHOST RILEY x FEM READER

Summary: Simon makes a journey through Soho hoping to find some relief.

Warnings/Tags: MDNI 18+ Only - Explicit language, explicit sexual content, sexual thoughts and allusions to sex but no actual sex, prostitution/sex workers/solicitation, ***TW- mention of SA (Simon's)- non-graphic, mention of torture- non-graphic, no use of Y/N

(Notes: This is basically just me weaving my personal head canons concerning Simon's past trauma and how his current sex life evolved into the plot. No beta. Embrace the imperfections.)

banners & dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Interlude

-

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

-

The cobbled streets of Soho are crowded this time of the evening.

The cacophony of music and the buzz of a hundred conversations flow around Simon as he walks among the throng of people. Crossing to the next corner, he turns down another street, noticing the giggling birds in short skirts sashaying ahead of him. They're no doubt heading for one of the night clubs further down the way.

There are many streets in Soho that have an almost carnival-like atmosphere about them, inviting wanderers with their twinkling string lights, busy shops, and outdoor eateries. However, there are other areas, like where Simon is currently going, that are geared more towards… adult entertainment.

One of the sashaying birds glances over her shoulder at Simon, then turns back to whisper something to her mates. The others then glance back as well, only to erupt into whispers and tittering giggles. Simon ignores them, focusing his attention on the signs advertising the discotheques, bars and clubs, instead. He slows to peer through a pub window, feigning curiosity, but he doesn't go inside. His destination is further along; he's just passing through.

He walks past a long queue outside a dance club. The music is pounding like a heartbeat, bass thumping so hard Simon can feel the percussion through the soles of his boots, the vibration tickling up his shins and setting his teeth on edge. He glances up at the gaudy sign above the blacked-out doors. The club is called 'Bangers', spelled out in electric blue letters. Simon rolls his eyes.

Bloody stupid name, he thinks, but then reconsiders. It's actually spot on, now that he thinks about it. Clubs like that are nothing more than human meat markets, strobe-lit hubs for anonymous hook-ups and drunken fucks in the loo. His lip curls at the thought. Playing Russian roulette VD-style with some random drunk slag doesn't appeal to him. He's careful about where he sticks his dick, is more discerning about who he fucks, which is why he gives the preening birds with their coy smiles and come-hither eyes no more than a cursory glance.

It's been several months since Simon has been to Soho, long enough that he can't remember the exact month anymore. It was cold, that's as much as he can recall, months before you had moved in with him. He also recalls (with some annoyance) how he had been unable to look you in the eye after his last trip there, watching you work behind the bar at the Dog the next day, chattering away at him as you normally would while his gut twisted with something that felt suspiciously like guilt. He'd not been back to Soho since.

Until now.

And this time, it's because of you.

That's not true. It's because of him. This mess is his fault, his failure.

He made a bad call, sharing you with the team. He let one little mention of you slip, and it snowballed from there. Not even he is sure if that little slip-up was accidental or not, but once he'd opened that Pandora's box, there was no shutting it again. He gave them an in, Johnny and Gaz ran with it, and Simon went right along with them.

He made a right cock up of things. Exposed you, then put his bloody claim on you. He had no right to do that― has no bloody right to you at all, but he let his ego dictate how it all went down. Christ, he shared your fucking pics with them. Stupid, stupid mistake. He's potentially put you in danger, doing that. Then again, if someone was already watching him, he put you on their radar months ago.

That was another bad call. Should've stayed away from you, but he didn't; hell, he bloody couldn't, no matter how hard he tried.

He'd cut ties with you for multiple reasons, the biggest among them to protect you, then turned around and fucked it all up. He just never expected you would open the door and let him back in, not after the way he'd treated you. When he went back to the Dog that rainy night, his only thought had been to fix what he broke and part ways on better terms, not pull you back in after pushing you out.

He still doesn't know what possessed him that night. He went back to you knowing he should leave well enough alone, but there he was, scratching at your door like a hungry stray and you let him back in, like the sweet, trusting fool that you are. Christ, what were you thinking? Why did you forgive him? He still gets pissed thinking about it, but in that moment, honestly, all he'd felt was relief.

Because he had his doll back.

Simon never knew he was a starving man until he got a taste of what his life could be like with you in it. It's addictive, that life you feed him, and it's made him greedy, possessive. He wanted you closer, wanted you to feed him more, so he took advantage when you were vulnerable. After what happened with Finch, he offered you safety, security, the promise of family and free reign of his house. You took his offering then turned around and achieved the impossible. He gave you his haunted house and you turned it into a proper home. You filled it to overflowing with light and warmth and fucking flowers. Selfish mutt that he is, he took it, took it all and fucking devoured it whole. He gorges himself on it daily, and that should be enough.

But he still craves more.

It's wrong to want more. You give him everything, everything, so he should be satisfied. He should be content to have you in his home, in his life, but now he wants more, he wants you, all of you, and that's... wrong.

Doesn't matter, though. Even if he knows it's wrong, it's done nothing to curb his craving for you. If anything, it's only made it worse. You've become his forbidden fruit, tempting him to reach out and take a bite. And it's because of that temptation that he's finally been forced to make another trip to Soho.

As Simon makes his way to his destination, he glances around at the buildings now surrounding him. Tall, skinny brick and mortar structures stacked together, just a few stories high; Soho's infamous walk-ups. Their entrance doors stand open, their lighted entryways revealing the narrow staircases and the signs that simply declare 'Models'. Those in the know understand that the men and women who work in these walk-ups have nothing to do with modeling. They're sex workers, professional prostitutes, and Simon has been a paying customer of theirs for years.

Before you, Simon had no qualms about paying for sex. It was simply a means to an end, meeting his basic needs to keep himself on an even keel. He saw nothing wrong with it, thought it was money well spent. As he'd once told you, a soldier's lifestyle wasn't conducive to sustaining romantic relationships, not that he'd ever fancied having one. He told you that he didn't have the patience for it, and he had believed that when he said it. It was easier to hand over a few quid, get what he needed, then be on his merry way, no muss, no fuss.

But again, that was before you moved in with him.

Now, the quid that he withdrew from the ATM earlier weighs heavy in his pocket. He withdrew enough for a thirty-minute session plus a tip. He plans on telling the bird if she can give it to him the way he likes and can finish him off quickly, she'll earn herself a good tip. He's not doing this expecting mind-blowing sex. He just needs to blow a quick, hard nut to sort himself out, then he can hurry back home, so he can make this up to you. He feels like a right sorry bastard for dumping you off like he did, because he was in a rush to get to fucking Soho to bang a prostitute.

He'd waited until he'd picked you up from work and dropped you at home before telling you he had some 'business' to take care of in London. Guileless, you'd blinked up at him, trying hard to hide your disappointment. It fucking gutted him when you simply nodded, then told him you would keep dinner warm for him. That was bad enough, but then you gave his hand a quick squeeze and murmured, "Drive safe, Ri," with that sweet fucking smile on your face, and it felt like his chest caved in.

Fuckin' hell...

He glances up at a street sign and something close to dread makes his gut feel queasy. His steps begin to slow, boots scuffing on the sidewalk. The address he's currently seeking is just around the next corner, then he'll cross Green's Court to a walk-up that houses a consignment shop on the ground floor with two separate flats above it. The bird he's picked out is in the first flat, working under the rather unimaginative alias of 'Desireé'.

Simon already knows that he doesn't want to do this.

But he also knows he has to.

It shouldn't bother him this much. It's not like he hasn't done this before. He visits Soho whenever he gets to the point that he can no longer scratch his own itch, and nothing but a wet cunt will do. Since you moved in, however, that itch has become an incessant burn. His control is starting to slip, and it's been getting worse since the May Day celebration. It's become such a struggle to keep his hands off you that he has to force himself away from you. Otherwise, he'd have you bent over the nearest flat surface.

Yeah. Something's got to give, and it cannot be him.

Grunting in frustration, he pushes those thoughts out of his head. He needs to focus on the task at hand. If he can see this through, it will help quell those urges you so obliviously keep stirring up inside him. Once he gets what he needs, he'll be right as rain again, and you won't be in danger of getting drilled against the wall.

Is he looking forward to this? No, he's not, but he figures it should be just like riding a bike. Once he gets going, biology will take over and instinct will kick in, then nature will take its inevitable course. It won't matter who he's fucking, then.

Still, the thought of fucking some other bird while you're waiting at home for him sticks in his craw and leaves a foul taste in his mouth. That feeling only gets worse when he rounds the corner, and the walk-up he's looking for comes into view.

Fuck. He's here.

Simon comes to a stop. He suddenly realizes he's gagging for a smoke, so decides to have one before going up. Fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket, he slinks into an alley, tugs down his face mask and lights up before pressing himself back into the shadows. He inhales as he casts his eyes up to the lit windows of what he assumes is Desireé's flat. A shadow crosses behind the pulled shade and disappears.

Fuck, he doesn't want to do this.

But he has to.

He exhales a stream of smoke and rubs at the ache still lingering in his chest. He knows the cause of it. It's been there since he drove away from you, and it's only gotten worse. There's not a damn thing he can do about it, though, not without risking the destruction of what the two of you have built together and probably ruining your life in the process. He'd fight for you, kill for you, fuck, he'd even die for you, but he can't— No, he won't fuck you.

But even with such a threat hanging over his head, he still fucking wants you. He wants you in a way that scares the bloody shite out of him.

Which is why he needs to do this.

But fuck him! He doesn't bloody want to!

Simon closes his eyes and thumps his head back against the dingy brick wall. Christ, he's never been so conflicted in his life. It's not like he's cheating on you, for fuck's sake, but damn if it doesn't feel that way. You're his friend, not his woman; he is not stepping out on you. There's no logical reason for him to feel bad about taking care of his own needs. It's just fucking; it doesn't mean anything. He has every right to do this.

But still...

He would rather take a bullet than for you to ever find out where he is and what he's about to do. He wouldn't be able to face you again if you ever found out, because he knows how bad it would hurt you. He knows it would hurt you because he knows you care about him, and he knows those feelings run deeper than bloody friendship. He knows this because he feels the same damn way. You're more than just his friend. You're his Dee, his doll. You're just... his.

And fuck him, he knows he's yours, too.

Dammit, he really does not want to do this.

But now he knows he has to. Because he can't lose you. Fuck no. That's not an option anymore.

He gives himself a mental shake and puts out his cigarette. Straightening from the wall, he clenches his fists and stalks across Green's Court to the walk-up. The open doorway beckons, he just needs to step through. He stops at the threshold and peers up the narrow flight of stairs.

There'll be a 'maid' in attendance up there, hanging about in the hallway. She'll ask who he's there to see then will inform him whether or not Desireé is 'indisposed'. That's the polite way of saying whether or not she has another customer. The prostitutes don't take appointments, so it's first come, first served. Unbidden, the hope rises up inside him that she already does have a customer, so he'll have an excuse to leave.

Gritting his teeth, Simon forces himself to step through the doorway.

The sound of plodding steps coming down the stairs has Simon's eyes darting upward. A bloke with thinning hair and a soft paunch hanging over his belt appears, his jowly face florid but clearly sated. His eyes meet Simon's for only a split second then skitter away as he lifts his left hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. The glint of a gold wedding band catches Simon's eye, and something cold and oily slithers and twists in his gut. That dull ache in his chest flares to life. Simon rubs at his chest and averts his eyes until the bloke walks out of the building.

"Least I don't got a ring on my finger," Simon mutters to himself, like that somehow matters, then begins climbing the steps.

When he reaches the first landing, a wiry, thin bird with her mousy brown hair pulled back in a low ponytail exits a small room. Her smile is tight-lipped but polite, her eyes assessing as she greets him.

"Can I help you?" she asks, folding her hands together at her waist, the picture of discreet decorum.

"Here t'see Desireé," he grunts in reply.

The 'maid' nods and points to a door down the short hall. "I believe she's free to see visitors. That's her flat there. Just knock."

Simon nods his thanks and steps around the woman, noting how leaden his feet feel as they take him to Desireé's door. His arm too feels heavy as he lifts it to rap against the painted wood. His neck grows hot, scalp prickling with anxious sweat as he hears the light tread of footsteps drawing near. When he hears the locks disengage, he takes a step back before the door swings open.

Desireé peeks around the edge of the door and offers him a tentative smile. Her eyes scan over him before she opens the door wider. "Well, 'ello, luv. Would ya like t'come in?"

She steps away to allow him entry, but Simon doesn't move because he's too busy staring at her.

When he was going through all the models' profiles online, he'd taken an unusual amount of time before choosing. That's not something he normally did. He usually didn't give a shite what they looked like, long as they had a clean cunt. Yet he remembered feeling frustrated as he clicked through profile after profile without success. If asked, he would have assumed it was due to a general lack of interest. None of them appealed to him until he'd seen Desireé's profile pic, and suddenly his search was over. Now he understands why.

This bird looks enough like you to pass for family. Maybe a sister, but definitely a first cousin. She's of the same height and a similar build, though she looks a bit older than you. Damn near identical hair, eyes close to the same color.

Bloody fuckin' hell...

"Well? Are ya goin' t'come in?" Desireé inquires.

Simon blinks and then shuffles through the door, trying to hide how rattled he is. Christ, how did he not see it before? She looks like you. It's like he set himself up to fail without even knowing it. He has to wonder if he's completely lost the bloody plot, because this is fucking mental.

He waits for her to lock the door behind them, doing his best not to stare but failing, then follows her through the small flat. His brain instantly compares her shape to yours. She's more hard angles compared to your soft, rounded curves. She doesn't move like you either. And her perfume makes his sinuses burn.

When she asks if he would like a drink, Simon lifts his gaze to see her smile knowingly; she thinks he's admiring the view. He shakes his head, thinking her smile doesn't hold a candle to yours. She gestures for him to take a seat in the sitting area. He sits down in a worn leather club chair, shifting around as she perches demurely on a chair opposite him.

"So, first things, first, luv," she begins her spiel. "Are ya a return customer or do I need t'go over the basics with ya?"

Her voice grates on his nerves. It's high and nasally, with a Cockney accent. It's not soft and slightly husky like yours. This will definitely be a nonverbal session, he decides.

"I know the drill," he mutters.

Desireé nods, giving him a sultry smirk. "Brilliant. Saves us some time, dunnit?" She settles back in her chair and crosses her legs, her skirt riding up to expose more thigh. "Since yer not new to this, I s'pose ya already know what ya want, then?"

Simon speaks it by rote, the same thing he always asks for. "Thirty-minute session, straight sex, no extras. And I have requirements."

Her eyes narrow just a fraction, and she hums, looking him over slowly. She then tilts her head in a coy way. "What're yer requirements, then?"

Simon launches into his list.

"Don't like muckin' about, so don't bother with the strip tease an' lingerie. Rather ya just get naked in the loo; prefer ya prep yerself f'me while yer in there. Ya can wear a robe out if ya like but lose it before ya get on the bed. Want ya on yer hands an' knees at the foot o' the bed.

"Don't want ya touchin' 'r kissin' me; I'll do the touchin'. Keep yer eyes forward 'r down, jus' not on me. Prefer ya not t'speak unless I ask a direct question 'r there's a problem. If there is, speak up. Don't want none o' tha' fake moanin' an' carryin' on, either. I go at it fast an' hard, but I ain't no brute. 'M big, so if it gets t'be too much, say so 'r give me three hard taps an' I'll stop. Tha' bein' said, ya should prob'ly use some lube when ya prep. An' before ya ask, the mask stays on. Tha's non-negotiable."

Desireé gives him a slow blink. "That's pretty specific," she murmurs, but then lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "But I can do that. I'll ask that ya have a care how ya handle me, though. I don't mind ya gettin' a li'l rough, but I don't like marks or bruises. Bad for business. Most blokes don't like seein' another man's marks, yeah?"

"Yeah, I get it. I won't mark ya up."

With the negotiations now over, Simon hands over her fee, but makes sure to let her get a peek at the extra quid in his wallet. He then mentions being pressed for time and his willingness to kick in a little extra if she can move things along. Pound signs dancing in her eyes, Desireé gets a move on, hurrying to the loo to get ready for him.

Simon shifts uncomfortably while he waits, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees as he stares at the closed bathroom door. That ache in his chest has gotten worse; it's burning now, deep and searing. He's still put off by how much Desireé resembles you, but luckily, that's where the similarities end. One look in those jaded eyes of hers told Simon all he needed to know. She might look like the girl next door, but Desireé is a pro, through and through. Case in point, not balking at the mask or his long list of requirements.

She probably thinks he's a dom, but that wasn't necessarily true. Simon doesn't derive pleasure from having a woman play the submissive. His requirements aren't a part of any kinky personal proclivities. They are necessary, as is his need for complete control, otherwise, he simply cannot perform sexually. It didn't used to be that way for him, but since his stint in Mexico with that sadistic cunt, Roba, this is his lot.

Sex was never the same for Simon after he was captured by Roba. The torture and sexual assaults he had endured while he was a prisoner broke him in a way that he thought he could never be fixed. His perception of sex was warped, twisted into something dark and brutal and ugly. Sex became a weapon that could be used to torture, humiliate and manipulate him. It took years before Simon could touch a woman again.

Even when he finally worked up the courage to have sex again, he'd been nearly overwhelmed with anxiety, terrified he would suddenly snap or have an episode and unintentionally hurt the bird he was with. Somehow sensing he was struggling, she had taken the situation in hand, guided him through it with patience and a gentle hand. She had been a prostitute as well, which is probably why he's gravitated towards them ever since.

Or he did until you came along and mucked up the works. When it comes to you, those necessary requirements of his go right out the bloody window. When it comes to you, it's not about base needs or physical release. It's about experiencing you, pleasuring you, claiming you. He doesn't just want you; he fucking craves you. When it comes to you, he doesn't feel in control and that fucks with him. A lot.

He's dreamed about kissing you. He's fantasized about ripping off his mask and staring into your eyes as he takes you against a wall. He's laid awake at night wondering what sort of noises you would make for him, how it would sound when you finally came while crying out his name. He wants to see your face when he makes you come. He wants to suck your tits and bite your ass and mark you up. He wants to eat your cunt and taste your cum. He wants to watch you suck his cock before he fucks you senseless in his bed. And then he wants to do it all again. And again.

He doesn't want that with anyone else. He only wants that with you. Just you.

Fuck. Just you.

Simon's head drops in defeat.

When Desireé steps out of the loo, he knows in his gut that this isn't going to work. He subconsciously tried to substitute you with a bird that looks like you, for fuck's sake. But she's not you, not even close, and that's why he feels nothing when she shrugs out of her robe and climbs naked onto the bed. He breathes out a resigned sigh.

Climbing to his feet, he steps to where Desireé dropped her robe and retrieves it. He sees her hips sway in invitation as he nears, her lubed cunt on full display. His cock doesn't even stir. He shakes his head, bemused. He popped a chub that morning watching you come down the stairs in one of his ratty old tees, but a naked bird waving her ass in his face does nothing for him.

Only you can stir up that fire inside him. Just you.

"Change of plans, luv," he murmurs, draping the robe over her before taking her by the shoulders and helping her off the bed.

Brows knitting together, Desireé looks up at him with a perturbed expression as she shrugs on the robe again. "Thought ya said ya knew the drill, mate. Once the session starts, there's no renegotiating."

"Not what I'm after," he tells her, taking a step back. "This ain't workin' f'me. 'M takin' off."

Her eyes narrow. "There's no refund, ya know," she warns him, sounding wary.

Simon waves her off. "Don't want one."

Taking out the extra money he'd been holding for her tip, he folds it and presses it into her hand. "Sorry 'bout wastin' yer time, pet," he says, then walks to the door and lets himself out.

Once he's back out on the street, Simon wastes no time retracing his steps back through Soho. He's still bricked up, but he no longer feels conflicted. He's finally realized that he's been fighting a losing battle this whole time, knows that he never stood a chance.

Because it's you. Just you. For him.

When he makes it back to his truck, he climbs in and cranks the engine, then pulls out his phone and calls you.

"Hey, Ri! What's up?"

Simon's eyes close at the sound of your voice. "Hey, doll. 'M on my way back. Need me to bring anything home?"

You hum in thought. "Mm... Nope. Just yourself, I reckon."

Simon chuckles, that ache in his chest finally easing. "That's all ya need, huh? Jus' me?"

He hears your breathy laugh. "Yeah, Ri," you reply, your voice soft and husky. "Just you."

Simon feels his cock twitch at those words and huffs out a laugh. "See ya in a few, love."

"Okay, Ri. See you soon. Drive safe."

Simon rings off, tucks his phone away, then reaches down to adjust his cock with a weary sigh. "Fuck, doll. Bloody killin' me." He grunts out another laugh, shakes his head and steers his truck towards home.

And you.

Just you.

-

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