#'the crowd gasps' etc etc. DAMN BRO

[butchlifeguard]

primrose's ch3 is GOOD btw

[jackrrabbit]

be a little bad /// Hawks x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: College AU 🍺 Frat boy Keigo pours you your first drink and decides he’s going to help himself to more of your firsts.

A/N: Hawks just makes so much sense as a frat bro 🤧 @koiibito​ thank you for working through ideas w/ me…& remember when I told you this was going to be short?? whoops 🤡

Tags/warnings: dubcon/coercion, inexperienced reader, fuckboy Hawks, overstimulation, alcohol, inebriated sex, problematic frat culture stuff, idk what to call it but peer pressure? to drink etc., all characters are adults

How long have you been sitting here?

You feel like there’s some kind of immense weight holding you down, making it impossible for you to stand up off this ugly couch that’s been crammed into the corner of the room to make space for the dance floor. You and this couch have become good friends over what you think has been the past hour—at first you occupied yourself by looking at the people playing beer pong, but after the fourth time you had to decline one of the players’ offers to join, you decided to stop making eye contact. So you sit on the couch, you stare at your phone, and you wish you were back at your dorm—or, better yet, back in your hometown with all your high school friends.

But you’re not. You’re here, multiple time zones away from anywhere you can call home, and all of your high school friends are asleep. And the one person—the one person you’ve managed to make friends with since orientation is the one who dragged you to this freaking frat party and then proceeded to abandon you. Apparently he didn’t feel the need to tell you that as a new pledge of this frat, he’s going to be on “door duty” checking ratios and giving sardonic responsibility talks for the next two hours.

Which leaves you here, sitting on the couch and trying to avoid the more questionable stains that you can barely make out in the seizure-inducing strobe lights. There’s a can of beer icing down your palms and you adjust your grip so it doesn’t leave a damp spot of condensation in your lap. It was your friend who gave it to you before he disappeared (“you don’t even have to drink it,” he’d said, “just hold it and no one else will pressure you to get another drink”).

It smells foul. You’ve had sips of beer before, and you can never understand why people drink it voluntarily. But maybe…maybe now that you’re in college, maybe now that you’re an adult, you’ll enjoy the taste. You raise the can to your lips and chug down a heavy gulp.

Ugh. Still gross. You wince and wipe your mouth.

“Not a fan of natty, huh? Good taste.” A hand appears out of nowhere to pluck the can away from you and you jump, nearly smacking your forehead against the stranger’s chin. He pulls back. “Whoa! Careful there.”

“…That’s mine,” you say half-heartedly as the guy tilts up the beer—your beer, your decoy drink—and takes a long draught.

“You’re not missing out. This stuff is piss,” he says, grinning down at you.

He’s not the first guy to hit on you at this party (what is it about lost-looking girls that draws frat boys in like moths to a flame?), but he is the best-looking. Long, swept-back blond hair; equally long eyelashes; a hint of scruff on his chin—he’s pretty and masculine at the same time. You let him take the seat next to you and lure you into a conversation, and he��s nice, too—laughing with you about how bad the beer tastes and sympathizing with your criticisms of your first experience at a frat party. You fall over yourself apologizing when he lets slip that he’s a brother (“social chair, actually, so if the party sucks it’s on me”) but he tells you it’s okay, that no one likes going to parties alone, not at first.

His name is Keigo Takami. He’s a junior, a marketing major, and he joined the frat in his first semester. According to him, the fraternity is a great group of guys (“I mean, they’re a bunch of jackasses, sure, but they’re well-meaning jackasses for the most part”) and all the rumors about frat parties are overblown.

“Seriously, you’d be having fun if you were drinking,” Keigo tells you. “These parties aren’t intended for a sober audience.”

“Sure,” you scoff, but it’s not serious. You are having fun, talking to him.

He gasps, mock-offended. “Don’t believe me? I’ll prove it to you. Stay right here, okay—don’t move a muscle.”

When he gets up, the dense crowd on the makeshift dance floor parts to let him through to the stairs leading into the upper floors. It’s kind of amazing. Everyone else (yourself included) has to wade through, pushing and shoving past the teeming throng to get anywhere, but for Keigo it’s effortless.

He’s back in just a few minutes, holding—oh god, how typical—a red plastic cup filled with a kool-aid red liquid that smells sickly sweet. Is it actually kool-aid? You take a whiff and can’t detect the tell-tale bitter alcohol fumes. “Is this…?”

“Mm, that’s jungle juice. The frat’s secret recipe. It’s good, try it.”

You raise the cup but hesitate. Is this really a good idea? You’ve been warned about stuff like this so many times. You don’t have to do it just because everyone else is.

Keigo catches your hesitation and frowns. “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing, I just…haven’t…”

“Hm? Don’t tell me this is your first drink? Aww, little freshman baby.” He’s mocking you, looking down on you, and you hate it. You’re not a baby. You can play with the boys.

You make eye contact with him before you tip back the cup and gulp down the juice, letting the full contents slosh down your throat. It’s syrupy-sweet and tastes like fruit punch and oranges so it goes down easy, a lot easier than you thought it would. A drop slides out of the corner of your mouth but you lick it up when it runs over your lip.

Keigo whistles. “Damn, down the hatch. That was…that was kinda hot.”

If you’re blushing, you hope he thinks it’s because of the drink.

He’s faster when he gets you the second cup. It doesn’t even taste like alcohol. Keigo won’t tell you what’s in it or how much (“secret recipe’s gotta stay a secret, y’know? It’s in the bylaws”). Halfway into the second cup you start to feel dizzy, which Keigo says means it’s working. He pulls you up off what you’ve semi-affectionately begun to think of as your couch and guides you onto the dance floor. The music is heavy and blaring loud, thudding through the speakers and making the walls shake, making you shake as it travels through the sticky floor up into your body. You sway haphazardly but Keigo’s got you by the arms, pulling you out of the way of the crowd, pulling you into him.

“Looking a little unsteady there, baby,” he says, and—and, you hear him, you do, but he’s talking to you from underwater (or, no, that’s just what it sounds like? or—) um. Beaming his voice into your brain or something?

Keigo laughs and you giggle and it feels good. “Better finish that or you’re gonna spill it,” he says, putting his warm hot hand over yours, guiding the cup back up to your face so you can finish off.

You’re in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by writhing bodies so it shouldn’t surprise you when someone’s elbow smacks into your back and jostles you so the jungle juice spills, spills out of your mouth dripping down your chin onto the dress. You process the interruption a second too late and the sticky red liquid is already staining your skin. …Feels good, you think first, because the drink is cool and refreshing and it’s so hot in here, steamy warm, everyone pressed up against everyone else like you’re pressed into Keigo, and then oh no—oh no your dress—but at least it’s a dark color, at least the stain won’t show—

“What did I tell you about spilling?” you sort of  hear Keigo say, and then you sort of feel the weight of his hand wiping away the juice from your mouth, and then he sticks his face up close to yours and oh my god oh my god he’s kissing you.

There’s something indescribably weird about it, his tongue thrashing over yours like he’s trying to lick the juice out of your mouth while you try not to flinch back from the taste of the beer he was drinking earlier. But he’s so solid, so steady, the only still thing in a room full of movement—when your eyes move away from him into the twisting mass of bodies and flashing lights you feel dizzy, so you keep your gaze locked firmly on him. He wraps his arm around your back and you instantly feel better and lean into him, lean into the kiss.

You’re drooling by the time he stops kissing you. “So sweet,” Keigo says, wiping a pearl of saliva off his mouth. “Little sloppy, but I can work with that.”

You don’t get it. You don’t even know if you would get it if you were sober. What you do get is Keigo’s hand wrapped around your upper arm, pulling you through the crowd to the staircase. Once again the people move aside for him, like the Red Sea for Moses, you think with a little laugh and he looks back at you and raises an eyebrow questioningly.

You stop, halting at the base of the stairs and squinting up at the bright yellow light in the stairwell, so invasive and clinical after the strobing darkness of the bottom floor. There’s something hard pressing into your side when you try to lean on the wall. There’s a name for that thing, isn’t there? B…ban…bannister, right? You grip the bannister with one hand to hold yourself still and resist Keigo tugging you higher up the stairs.

“W-Where’re we going?” you ask. It’s weird—your voice doesn’t sound like drunk people in movies. It’s not slurred or unintelligible. To your own ears, it just sounds high, and fast, and…nervous.

“Going upstairs,” Keigo says patiently, still pulling gently at your arm. “Gonna get some air, ‘kay? I’ll show you something cool.”

“O-Okay…” Something cool? You want to see something cool, even if you’re practically tripping over the stairs trying to stumble up them.

One of the brothers is guarding the entrance to the upper floors (no doubt ensuring that wayward attendees don’t try to take the party upstairs into the personal bedrooms). He nods at Keigo when he passes, but when he catches sight of you—you with your hair mussed, lipstick smeared, flushed cheeks and wobbly steps—his eyes narrow. “She good?”

Even in your boozy haze, it doesn’t escape you that the question isn’t directed toward you. He’s asking Keigo.

“Her? She’s fine, she’s fine.” Keigo throws his arm over your shoulders like you’re old buddies. “I’m taking her to my room, it’s so fucking hot down there I can’t breathe.”

“Yeah…” the other guy says, gaze still focused on you, but he doesn’t move to the side to let you through.

“Oh, come on.” Keigo steps up onto the same stair as him so he can look him in the eye. “I said she’s fine, didn’t I? She’s having fun. Aren’t you? Tell him you’re having fun, (Y/N).”

His tone isn’t any less sociable than before, but—are you imagining it?—he’s not really asking, is he? “Um, I’m having—having fun?”

Oh. Oh no. Why did that sound like a question?

The brother waits a moment, and then shrugs and steps aside. “Whatever, bro.”

Keigo’s bedroom is on the third and highest floor of the sprawling mansion where the fraternity makes its home. Flags are pinned to the walls—one with the colors of your university and one with the fraternity crest—and on top of his desk there are trophies lined up in meticulous rows: track and field, swimming, cross country, fencing. The bedroom is a rare single, one of only a few in the crowded house, which Keigo explains is because he earned it as a member of leadership when he was elected social chair (“it was unanimous—well, almost, a couple of the douchebags voted for themselves but—“)

You’re trying to listen, you really are. But your head is spinning. Now that you’re out of the feverish swampy heat of the dance floor downstairs, you feel marginally more sober—and also more aware that you’re inebriated. Keigo’s voice is steady and soothing like the rest of him. The timbre, the intonations, the casual lilt and dip of his speaking make more sense to you than the words themselves.

“Here, have this. It’s rum. Tell me what it smells like…” Keigo puts something in your hand—a tiny little cup, a plastic shot glass—and you have to use all your concentration to hold it still enough to let him fill it with red-brown liquid out of an unlabeled bottle.

When you carefully lift it up to your face, you can smell the alcohol. It smells sweet, too—like vanilla, vanilla and something fruity and heavy. Bananas?

But mostly it smells like alcohol.

“It smells like banana bread, doesn’t it?” Keigo asks, pouring himself a shot too. “Try it.”

You take a tentative sip but even that meager amount is sickeningly bitter in your mouth. You hold it on your tongue for a second trying to taste the ‘banana bread’ and then swallow a few moments too late, hoping you don’t look as disgusted as you feel.

“Not like that,” Keigo laughs, tipping his own shot back and downing it in a single go. “Like this. Your turn.”

“…Keigo…” You’re not sure what you want to say. You don’t want the shot, it tastes bad and you’re already drunk. You’re a smart girl, a careful girl. You should know better. You do know better. But it feels like—it feels like, even though he’s not making you do anything, somehow it’s too late to say no.

“C’mon, (Y/N). It’s just a little shot.” He taps his empty glass against your almost-full one. “And look, if you don’t want to, I’ll just take you back downstairs…is that what you want?”

Back downstairs. Back to sitting by yourself and waiting for your friend and turning down offers. Is that what you want?

Keigo’s gaze dips down to the ground and he shifts a step forward. “Now…maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think you want that. ‘Cause when I saw you sitting on that couch, you didn’t look like you were having such a good time, hm? Am I right?”

“…um, I guess?”

“Yeah…you looked so sad and lost and lonely I couldn’t leave you alone. Admit it...” He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. “You were waiting for someone to catch your interest. You were wishing a guy like me would come rescue you. If I’m wrong, I’ll take you right back downstairs and leave you by yourself for the rest of the night, okay? But if I’m right…”

You can smell his hot breath on your face—vanilla and sugar and bananas and rum.

“…take the shot.”

It’s not so bad the second time. You’re quicker and you don’t bother holding it in your mouth. The liquor sears your throat clean and when you get over the unpleasantness, it really does taste kind of like banana bread.

“Ohhhh… Not so bad, is it?” Keigo takes the glass from you. “God, you—you complain, but you really take it down like a champ.”

“Alcohol tastes nasty,” you reply, wrinkling your nose. “Why’d people do this for fun?”

“It’s not about the taste, not at first,” Keigo laughs. Weird. It’s like he’s always laughing.

“Then what?” At your next exhale, you squeeze your eyes shut and reopen them. Ah. Ah. The room is moving again, spinning, contracting and dilating. There’s something relaxing about it, like you’re being rocked on gentle waves in the ocean. You feel floaty, comfortable, pleased.

“Well…it’s nice, isn’t it? Isn’t this nice? Helps you not think so much, not worry about the consequences.” Keigo’s arms are wrapping around you again, anchoring you in place. His torso is warm and hard against yours. “Lets you be bad.”

“Mmm…” You blink up at Keigo, admire his jawline and his lashes and his pretty gold eyes. He looks like a boy you would’ve had a crush on in high school, an older boy who never would’ve given you the time of day.

His hand is rubbing circles over your back, shifting the fabric of your dress along with his palm. “So what do you say?” he murmurs. “Wanna be a little bad?”

You do. You want to be bad and naughty and reckless. You want to make dumb, drunken decisions that you’ll laugh about with your friends in a few years. You want to do things you’ll regret, because you’d rather regret the things you had the guts to do than the ones you were too scared to try.

You inch your arms up past Keigo’s shoulders and tangle them in his fluffy hair, tugging gently at the different strands until you work up the nerve to pull his head to your level and kiss him. Even though you initiated it, he immediately takes the lead and the force of his mouth writhing against yours has your neck twisting back to accommodate. His tongue pushes against yours again but you don’t mind it this time. Your spine is arched and you’d probably be falling backward if his hand wasn’t bracing your lower back before sliding down to grab your ass.

“God—“ he breaks the kiss— “goddamn, look at you.” He’s gripping your dress, lifting it, pulling the fabric up over your hips and up to your waist at the same time as he showers kisses over your cheeks and your jawline and your neck.

You lift your chin (how strange that you’ve never done this before and still it feels so natural) to let him bite and suck scarlet marks onto the thin skin of your throat. “Keigo—“

“Baby,” he sighs, his breath stirring the hair falling over your neck. “You’re gonna be a killer, I can tell… You’re sweet now, but fuck, you’ve got no idea.” His hands are under the hem of your dress giving your ass another squeeze before he pulls the skirt up.

“Killer? What do you...” He’s backing you onto the bed, kicking off his shoes, and you do the same.

“Shh, that’s for me to know and you to find out. Arms up,” he tells you, and you slowly comply, letting him take the dress off your shivering body to leave you in your panties—no bra, not in this dress. Keigo holds the dress in his hands for a second before he drops it to the floor. “This—you know what, this is how I knew you were a virgin, this little dress, who the hell wears a dress to a frat party—“

“A virgin?” Hearing him say the word hits some kind of trigger in you and your eyes go wide. Without thinking, you fold your arms over your breasts and pull your legs up to your chest.

“Not a virgin virgin, it’s just what we call freshie girls who’ve never been to a party before—“ Keigo starts to clarify, but when he catches your reaction (your overreaction), his eyes narrow and he sits on the bed over you, knees straddling your legs. “Wait. Are you—you’re not actually a virgin, are you?”

You look to the side, cheeks hot, wanting to deny it but knowing there’s no way you’ve got the mental fortitude to really convince him.

“Fuuuck,” Keigo breathes, leaning over you and framing your face with his hands. “Baby. You just keep getting sweeter, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” you whine, covering your face with your hands. “’s embarrassing…”

“You should be glad I asked, or you’d be…like crying and bleeding and stuff, right? God, it’s been a while since I had a virgin.” He scratches his forehead and then his hand comes down to absently stroke the soft inside of your thigh.

It tickles. It tickles and you feel goosebumps rising to attention on your leg and a silly little laugh bubbles out of your throat. An involuntary shiver passes through you.

Keigo smirks and ducks down to kiss the skin of your inner thigh. It’s light—it’s nothing—but the rough stubble on his chin scratches over your skin and you giggle again. He nudges up higher on your body, so close you can feel the heat of his breath through your panties, and his hands grip around your waist to keep you in place.

Everything’s moving so quickly. You wonder in the back of your mind, the tiny part that still has a decent grasp on sobriety, if you’re ready for all of this. Then you wonder if anyone’s ever ready. How are you supposed to know? When it’s the right time, are you not supposed to be nervous? You are nervous, but the liquor is taking the edge off, making you more comfortable, maybe even keeping your mouth shut when the sober version of you would’ve stopped this a long time ago. You don’t know.

But what you do know—what you do know is that Keigo is easing your panties down off your legs and then nosing back in to kiss up your thighs and latch his mouth over your pussy.

“Mm—oh, fuck—“ What are you saying? You’re not a moaner, you don’t even say ‘fuck’. You’ve always been able to keep quiet when you’re by yourself. It’s like Keigo’s tongue flicking over your clit is pulling the voice out of you.

He wriggles the tip of his tongue over that sweet spot and the breath falls out of your lungs in what is undeniably a whimper. You feel so tense with the effort of keeping still, blood rushing to your pussy, and your thigh spasms where it’s nestled next to Keigo’s cheek. “You ever done this before?” he hums between licks.

“N-No…ah!”

“Ever cum?” His tongue returns, licking you up and down in lazy strokes, spreading your juices all over your dripping cunt.

“…hahhh, yesss…” Yes, you’ve had an orgasm before, in your own bed on your own fingers. When you do it to yourself it’s detached and methodical, a means to an end. You keep your mouth closed and you barely move and you get it over with. It’s not like this, wet and sloppy and out of your control, teasing, giving you almost exactly what you want but not quite.

You’re moaning. You’re moaning. You can still hear the throbbing music of the party downstairs, and you’re moaning your little heart out, whimpering, crying with little ah-ah-ah’s that anyone who can hear would recognize immediately.

When you do it yourself, it’s not like this. It’s never like this. Keigo moves from slow to quick unpredictably, always pulling you down right when you feel that pressure building in your core. It feels good enough that you’re annoyed—no, not annoyed, downright pissed when he sits back up on his heels and licks the wetness off his own lips.

“What’re you—I was, I was gonna—“ you start, trying to organize your thoughts. It had felt good. You’d wanted it, wanted more, and now your pussy feels all warm and wet and needy, pulsating with the lust he stirred up in you.

“Gonna cum?” Keigo leans down and kisses you, long and slow. “Sorry…but I’m selfish. When you cum, I wanna feel it.”

His arms flex in the yellow lamplight as he pulls the collar of his shirt over his head. You’re sprawled over the sheets on your back, not sure what you can say so you just watch. It helps that there’s plenty to look at—the hard planes of his abdomen forming the tell-tale dips of a six-pack, perfectly-formed lean muscle (all those sports trophies, you think to yourself), and the V of his hipbones disappearing under the hem of his pants…which he’s currently taking off as well. There’s something to be said for the benefits of spending more time at the gym than you do at the library.

Every part of Keigo Takami is impressive—he’s a work of art in human form. And when he pulls down his boxer briefs and his cock springs out to bob against his stomach, you’ve gotta admit that that is pretty impressive too.

Impressive…and intimidating. You bite your lip looking at it. Keigo pumps himself up and down, and every time his fist moves down to expose the thick pink head, you wonder the same thing: how is that supposed to fit!?

Keigo must see the sudden anxiety on your face, because he smiles (reassuringly? arrogantly? or is he just delighting in your discomfort?) and lifts you like a kitten with his hands under your armpits. “Up, up, on your knees, legs together—perfect. Now turn and put your hands on the wall.”

It’s so much easier to follow his instructions than try to consider what would happen if you said no. His callused hands petting over your waist make you feel like you’re doing the right thing. But—still—the nagging anxiety of having something so big in your pussy doesn’t go away.

You hear a drawer opening, and you turn away from the wall to see Keigo squeezing a clear liquid from a bottle in his hand and spreading it meticulously down the shaft of his cock. Lube? That’s good, you’ve heard from your more experienced female friends that it’s good to be extra wet the first time…but there’s something else, something you’re missing, isn’t there?

You try to think, try to ground yourself and understand, really understand what’s happening to you. What are you missing? The bed is squishy and soft under your knees, the air is windy somehow (is there a fan on? you hadn’t noticed), and the music downstairs is so loud you can feel the vibrations through the wall you’re pushed up against. And. And. You try to think. What are you forgetting that you’re not allowed to forget?

You can feel his cock, too. Keigo’s hands grip the flesh of your hips and he leans his chest into your back, brushing your hair over your shoulders so the two of you can touch skin to skin. The head of his cock bumps against your mound, raw and hard and heavy. Skin to skin.

Skin to skin.

It hits you in a wave of panic and you whip your head around and push desperately back at Keigo’s solid shoulder. “Wait! Wait, Keigo—the condom? Are you wearing a condom?”

His hand wraps around your wrist and pins it back against the wall, and he bows down to nip a a little spot on the crook of your neck. “Calm down, we don’t need one.”

“No, we—we need it, I need it!” you squeak out, trying to push away from Keigo but he’s got you sandwiched between him and the wall and those perfect muscles you were admiring earlier are definitely not just for show.

“I said calm down. I’m not gonna go inside.”

“…What?”

He rocks his hips forward and his dick bumps up under your pussy again. “Ever heard of thighfucking?”

No, you’ve never heard of thighfucking, but you’re an intelligent girl and you might be drunk but you’re not so drunk that you can’t piece together what he means. Your interpretation is reinforced when you feel Keigo slathering liquid—lubricant—over the lips of your pussy and between the tops of your thighs. It feels cold and weird—slippery slick, like lotion—but even the barest second of his fingers brushing over your clit reignites the need from when he ate you out and you shudder.

“Keep those knees together for me, baby,” Keigo says, and with no further delay he pushes his cock in between your thighs, aiming it perfectly to slide between your pussy lips so the head will bump up on your clit.

“…ahh, Keigo, wait—oh!” The full weight of Keigo’s body shoves against your back every time he thrusts. You’re too weak for this, too delicate to stay in position. Your elbows buckle under the pressure and your face is about to smack directly into the wall until Keigo laces his fingers in your loose hair and yanks you back from it.

He’s got no trouble holding you down, keeping you perfectly posed with your soft thighs molded tightly around the cock driving between them. Your head is craned back from his hold on your hair and he lays hungry kisses over your mouth, your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can reach. He’s right—he is selfish, and you know that this position is about him, not you, so it takes you by surprise that the longer he fucks his cock between your thighs and your dripping slit, the more heat you feel rising up in your cunt.

It’s not right. It’s not supposed to be like this. Your first time doing anything with a boy isn’t supposed to end up with him using you like he’s humping a pillow, thrusting his slippery cock into your thighs and groaning in your ear. It’s all wrong, and it’s definitely wrong that you’re getting off to it.

But now you know why he ate you out and left you high and dry (well, not dry) without making you cum—because the heat and the friction and the feeling of every ridged vein sliding over your clit, his hips smacking with a wet slap against yours, the smooth head grinding over your pussy—all of it is making your thoughts swirl like your brains are sloshing around in your head, and not just because of the alcohol.

“Fuck,” Keigo purrs, ducking forward to bite the shell of your ear and then running a soothing tongue over it. “Fuck, baby, you like that? Is that virgin pussy getting all wet on my dick? You’re twitching, I can feel you…”

“…Mmph, ah, I, I—please—” You can’t really talk, not when he’s knocking the breath out of you with every thrust. But you need more. It’s not fair, having to make do with the uncontrolled jerks of his cock over your upper thighs and the outside of your pussy. He’s fucking you like he couldn’t care less about whether you get to cum—which, if you had the ability to think about it, he probably doesn’t. Certainly not as much as he cares about your soft, lubed-up skin squeezing so deliciously on his cock.

You grind your hips down a little, sticking your ass back toward him to get a better angle and—ugh, ugh it works, the pressure on your clit increases, and you keen desperately, begging him to fuck your thighs faster harder deeper. He yanks on your hair, snapping your head back so your whimper chokes up into a squeal, and—god, are you imagining it?—but you swear you feel the stiff length of his cock throb in between your legs with the head nudging on your belly.

“Uhnn…baby, baby, baby,” Keigo chants in your ear. His voice is heavier and jagged with the puffs of breath that are coming out in time with the roll of his hips into yours. It sounds…needy, almost. “G-Good girl, keep those legs tight, just—just like that…my good little sweetheart, angel, virgin. Gonna make me cum? Yeah? Make me cum with these pretty fucking thighs?”

“—Keigo, I’m—mm!” You can’t say it, even the thought of announcing you’re cumming like some kind of pornstar makes you cringe, but even if you don’t say it, there’s no way he doesn’t feel the electric shock that passes through you, sending tremors through your body.

You’re crying out, loud, louder than the music downstairs maybe (or at least it feels like it). There’s nothing you can grip for purchase so one hand just scrabbles against the bare expanse of the wall while you curl the other into a fist and dig your fingernails into your palms.

Fuck, is it the alcohol? Is it the liquor that’s making it feel like this, so overwhelming and heady you don’t even know where you are? You vaguely try to remember how you got here (something about blond hair, an easy laugh, and sugar-sweet liquid coating your tongue), but it’s not important, who fucking cares when the cock pistoning between your thighs is still rubbing up on your clit, still stimulating you, still sending sparks of heat up through your spine and making it impossible for you to breathe without moaning, much less think.

“Keigo…Keigo I came, please ahh—it, it hurts,” you whimper, trying to shift your hips up off his cock to relieve the pressure on your sensitive clit—but he won’t let you.

Keigo’s grip on your ass digs in deeper, harder so he’s probably leaving bruises, and the hand in your hair pulls your head back toward his. His voice is a growl, so low and scratchy that it sends a chill up through your body. “Don’t move. Don’t you—don’t you fucking move. Stay right fucking there.”

It scares you.

It scares you, but his dick is rocking over your pussy, making you crazy, making you lose your grip on whatever other physical sensations you can still feel. You’re limp except for your thighs pressed into one another as tightly as you can manage, letting Keigo hold you up. It doesn’t hurt, not really—but it’s horrible, it’s too much, it’s like you’re trapped on the edge, cumming and cumming and cumming and cumming while you squeal like you’re being tortured, and you are, you are, you are, you are—

—it's torture.

But not pain. It doesn’t hurt. It’s mind-bending, oppressive, awful, you want it to stop but—oh god oh god—you’re helpless and you don’t get to make it stop, you don’t get to make that decision, it’s up to him. He decides, Keigo decides, and Keigo decides to keep fucking into your thighs, keep spreading your pussy lips apart and teasing your clit, so you just roll your head back and stop trying to convince yourself it doesn’t feel incredible.

You barely notice him speeding up—you probably wouldn’t notice at all if you couldn’t hear the beat of your moans, paced in time with his body slamming yours against the wall, increasing in frequency. He releases your hair (you swear you can feel blood rush back into your head when you’re finally able to lean forward) and his hands go back to your hips, guiding you to rock yourself back on him so his last few rabid thrusts finish with the head of his cock rubbing firmly against your stomach.

“Ugh, goddamnit fuck, baby, yesss, stay still, stay right there,” Keigo groans, and you’re so blissed out from the overstimulation that you barely even feel the twitching of his cock between your legs and the spurt of thick, hot liquid on your stomach.

Oh.

Oh god.

When Keigo finally picks his hands off their bruising grip on your ass, you drop directly onto the bed, barely remembering at the last second to roll over onto your back so his semen (his semen, which is spread over your lower belly like a Jackson Pollock painting) doesn’t stain his sheets.

You stare at the ceiling and what do you know, there is a ceiling fan, blades spinning in lazy circles that make you sick when you try to follow them. So you close your eyes.

What are you feeling? What are you supposed to be feeling?

Anger, probably. Fear? Well, you won’t deny that there are hints of both of those emotions swimming underneath the hazy surface of your drunken psyche, but they’re overshadowed by what you’re really feeling, which is relief, relief that the stimulation is over, relief that it felt good, relief. And—since you’re too out of it to stop yourself from admitting it—satisfaction.

There’s a rustling, paper slipping against paper, and then you can feel Keigo wiping his cum off your bare stomach with a tissue and then dabbing at the smears of wetness between your legs. When he’s satisfied that you’re clean, the bed creaks as he lays down next to you. He’s panting.

Reluctantly you open your eyes and roll onto your side, propping yourself up on an elbow so you can look down at him: golden hair spread out in a halo around his head, pale lashes and brows, a healthy glow of sweat over his forehead. You hadn’t seen it before, but there’s a tattoo curling over his biceps from where it must originate on his back—red feathers, wings, inked permanently into his skin.

Angel, Keigo called you earlier. But really, between the two of you…he’s the angel. In appearance, if nothing else.

His eyes drift open and the corner of his mouth tilts up, pleased to see you inspecting him. “How was that? Did you have fun being naughty?”

You and him both know exactly how much fun you had, and if you said it you’d just be stroking his ego. “You’re not a good guy, are you,” you say instead.

“Never said I was.”

“Then why didn’t you…have sex with me? For real?” you ask after a beat. The question’s been weighing on you.

“Don’t tell me you’re complaining.” A hand comes up to comb through your mussed hair unhurriedly.

“I’m not…” You still want to know, though.

“Mmm…baby. You didn’t want this to be your first time. Believe me, you’re not supposed to lose your virginity to a guy like me. No—don’t pout, come on. Your first time is supposed to be, like, soft and special and romantic, right?”

The girl you were one month ago, before you moved away from your hometown to come to college, she would have agreed. But you’re not that girl. You’ve been to your first college frat party, you’ve had your first drink and your first shot, you’ve kissed a stranger and you’ve done…sexual things with a man for the first time. And you’re okay with it. So you roll your eyes. “I’m not some fourteen-year-old drawing hearts in my notebook. I don’t need soft,” you tell him, hoping you sound bold and sarcastic.

Keigo chuckles and pats you on the head. “Don’t knock soft fucking, it’s got a time and a place like everything. I just couldn’t do it. Not when I saw you sitting there looking so lonely—you were like, hmm…like a rabbit in a den of wolves. You looked delicious.”

Oh god, you’re blushing again. This isn’t good for the nonchalant cool girl persona you’re trying to cultivate for yourself.

He cups your chin and runs his thumb over your lower lip. “I don’t think I could’ve been soft with you if I tried.”

A sharp rap on the door has both of you tensing, and Keigo only has a second to yank a blanket up from the foot of the bed over your naked bodies before the door is slammed open so hard that it bangs against the adjacent wall. “Jesus, get the fuck out!” he barks to the intruder, and it’s weird to hear the authoritative note in his voice reminding you that within this house, he’s someone who commands respect.

You tuck your face into Keigo’s chest and hope wildly that the person who just walked in 1) didn’t see anything and 2) isn’t the friend who brought you to the party, because if word gets around that you’re the girl who ‘slept’ with an older frat boy at the first party of freshman year, you’ll never live it down. Regardless of your own sexual liberation or whatever, you’re well aware that this isn’t the kind of reputation you want to start your college career out with.

“Sorry Kei! But we need you downstairs, we’re out of alc and the music stopped and no one knows how to fix the speakers!” the brother says, shielding his eyes with his hand, but he doesn’t leave the room. At least it’s not your friend—you breathe a sigh of relief and Keigo automatically smooths a hand down the back of your head in response.

“I’m kind of busy,” he seethes, and—you’ve gotta admit, there’s something marginally funny about seeing him caught off guard like this. You bite down on a laugh and he looks at you curiously, one thick eyebrow quirked.

“I’m really sorry, man, but the President said you’ll be on puke clean-up duty tomorrow if you don’t get your ass down there. His words, not mine.”

“Tomura, of-fucking-course…shitty incel has it out for me…” Keigo curses under his breath. “Give me five minutes.”

As soon as the door is closed, you’ve got your feet on the floor, groping around the discarded articles of clothing for your dress. You smooth down your hair with your hands and hope you look like any other tipsy freshman instead of a girl who just got pseudo-fucked. Keigo winks at you and taps his cheeks under his eyes; you take the hint and wipe away the smudges of mascara and eyeliner that migrated out of place during your…activities.

Your phone is safely in the pocket of your dress and you’re all but ready to leave the room (hopefully there won’t be anyone in the hallway to see you) when Keigo, still pulling on his pants, tugs you back by your wrist.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you reply uncertainly.

“Aren’t you going to give me your number?”

What? Really? You’ve heard plenty about how frat guys like him operate, and nothing Keigo’s done (except the whole ‘no penetrative sex’ thing) has led you to believe he doesn’t fit the stereotype. And the stereotype doesn’t involve sleeping with the same girl twice, especially if that girl is an awkward freshman who is apparently too innocent for him to get his dick wet with. “What do you want my number for?” you ask.

“Do I have to spell it out to you?” Keigo’s fingers lace with yours and you stumble forward into him so he can kiss you.

It’s light, chaste even, but it’s not fair because he knows, of course he knows—a kiss like that is going to leave you wanting more. “Yes,” you tell him, just to be contrary.

Keigo laughs again, and you do your best to memorize the sound of it. “It’s so the next time you decide you want to be a bad girl…you know where to find me.”

[bangchanstudio]

Never Have I Ever | Changbin (3/?)

pairing: seo changbin x reader (fem)

genre: university au, awkward friends to ? something more? smut, house party

tw: sex, attempted date rape (spiked drink), mild panic attack, unprotected sex, penetration, cursing, praising, mild dom!changbin kink, oral sex (fem;receiving), fighting?

word count: 6.8k

ch.one | ch.two

synopsis: you’re forced to face Changbin after ghosting him for weeks, and things happen.

note: I suffered A LOT writing this so please SUFFER WITH ME. Shout out to sera aka @seraplantery​ for thirsting over changbin with me and his new fresh undercut as i wrote this 🥺 you the real one✨ again, i would love it if you let me know what you thought about this etc. i would love to interact more with those you read my fics!! 🥰 feel free to drop ideas or suggestions/requests in my inbox~ ps. if you would like to be added to the tag list for ✨NHIE✨ please let me know via inbox/message ❤️

taglist: @seraplantery​ @chang-binnie @synnocence @lordseochangbin​

“Spill it, sister.” The way Hyunjin crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently reminded you of your mother when you were in high school, waiting for a confession after sneaking out to a party the night before with the guys.

Suddenly, the ramen hanging out of your mouth that linked to your chopsticks seemed one hundred times more interesting than looking at Jinnie. He was good at seeing through your lies but mostly because you were such a bad liar.

When your only response was a shrug, he let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’ve been acting sus for days now.”

“How?” You asked, still avoiding his gaze, sipping on your straw.

“Well, for starters, you’ve stopped pestering us about what happened at the party.” He eyed you up and down. “Did you remember?”

“Just that we watched a hot ass morning sex video.” You said wiggling your eyebrows. “Really, there’s nothing going on.”

That was a lie.

The only thing that was running through your mind most of the time these days was Changbin. Since that night you went to see him you couldn’t stop thinking about his touch. His skin. His lips. The way he tasted. Changbin got your number from Chan, but you were avoiding him. He wasn’t one to chase or push either, so when you didn’t reply to his first message he didn’t send another.

Chan already interrogated you about the night he walked in on you blowing Changbin, and asked why you haven’t talked to him. You could only assume Changbin told Chan you were ghosting him, and Chan knowing you like the back of his hand decided to mediate. You were grateful, because he never judged you for being an asshole or ghosting people. You were always like this and you had been told by many people that you were “too much”, but not Chan. That’s what made you love him and run to him. Even when you didn’t run to him because you were too self-conscious and didn’t want to annoy him, he’d go to you. Talking with Chan helped you realize you didn’t know anything at all and that it would all be okay regardless.

“You know what your problem is, (Y/N)?” Chan started two weeks after you went to see Changbin at his apartment.

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” You were laying upside down on your couch, feet hanging over the backrest next to Chan who was sitting upright typing away on his laptop.

“You avoid thinking about your feelings. Instead of trying to face them head on and figure them out, you just run away.”

Ouch. The truth of his words stung.

“Just slap me next time will ya?” He rolled his eyes at your remark.

“I’m serious.” He closed his laptop placing it on the coffee table before giving you his full attention taking your hand in his as if you were a child. “Look, you know I love you. I care about you and I want to see you happy. That’s why we need to figure this out together. Tell me, when you look at Changbin, what do you feel?”

That was a tough question to answer. “Do I really have to think about that?” You whined.

“Yes.” He said sternly in his dad voice. “We’re going to figure this out together because if not you’re just going to continue this vicious cycle forever and I won’t stand by it.”

Sighing, you closed your eyes trying to find something, anything that you could put into words.

The image of seeing Changbin for the first in over a year at Seungmin’s house party at the start of summer came rushing back. You were sitting at the bar table in the wide living room of Seungmin’s mansion in a champagne slip dress and red lips talking your half tipsy ass off with your girl friend when she gasped at a hot guy who walked in. The place was overflowing with bodies, the heat made your skin slightly damp and the music was loud. There was a mixture of cigarette smoke and the smell of booze flowing in the air, basically it smelled like a good time.

“Who’s that hottie coming in with Felix?” She had asked shouting over the DJ and pointing at the door with her free hand, drink in the other.

Your heart had stopped and the smile you had plastered on your face slowly faded as you saw Changbin walk in, leather jacket, hood up, hat covering his features, but you knew it was him. He was scanning the crowed, high-fiving and bro hugging Seungmin and Minho as they found him. Minho had turned to find you amongst the crowd and nodded your way, Changbin found you but turned away. He never went up to you that night and you didn’t either.

“I feel sad.” You admitted, voice only slightly above a whisper.

“That’s good, (Y/N). That’s a good place to start.”

[three days later]

“Another party?”

Everyone was gathered around in your apartment eating your food and playing video games.

“Yeah, my parents are going overseas again so it’s the perfect time. I think we all could use a good old fashion house party.” Seungmin, respectable Virgo though he may be, was notorious for his house parties. He always had the best DJ’s, the best drinks and most importantly a big house.

“God knows we need to let loose, especially (Y/N).” Felix smirked over at you wiggling his eyebrows, blocking the pillow you threw at him.

“Besides, it’ll be funner this time since Changbin is back and we’ve been hanging out.” The room went quiet at Jeongin’s comment, just the video game sounding in the background “Oh… was I not suppose to say that?”

“Just focus on your game the grown ups are talking.” Hyunjin hushed the younger boy. “Everything is set to go we just need to go shopping.”

“We?” Everything sounded amazing except parties meant socializing, dressing up and being in public. You had a love hate relationship with parties, about as much as you had a love hate relationship with everything else in life.

[]

The weekend came faster than you could have hoped for and that mean the party did too. All you could think about was how you planned to avoid Changbin, though it shouldn’t be too hard in a house that big. You did it once before. The truth was, maybe you were scared to genuinely fall for him, just as he had said he was afraid of falling of falling for you. The only thing you knew how to do when you were unsure of anything was to run away.

Chan was right and you knew it. Your flight instinct was all you were good at but even you knew it would be your downfall eventually.

“Wear this. From your bestest friend in the whole wide world – Jinnie”

Hyunjin stopped by while you were in the shower and shouted a quick goodbye, reminding you to not be “late” to the party before rushing back out in less than a minute. You pulled your towel closer to your cold body before opening the top of the box and pulling out a really short, strappy, silk red slip dress.

“Does he want me to die of hypothermia?” you mumbled to yourself before doing your hair and make up. All the while constantly checking your phone to keep tabs on Chan’s eta. The best you could do was curl your hair and do some basic face makeup since you loved striking more with red lips rather than heavy eyes. Since the party had a rave vibe you opted for a way heavier highlight than normal and sprinkled a bit of body glitter along your collarbones and shoulders.

“(Y/N), I’m here !” Chan’s voice rang out as you heard him shuffling from the entrance to your room.

“Are you rea– damn girl, who are you?” He stopped dead in his tracks taking you in from head to toe.

“Fuck, this is too slutty right?” You turned from your long mirror to face Chan.The dress fit you well enough, but it was so short and low cut you thought your boobs would fall out at one wrong move, not that you had much to begin with, but this dress sure made it seem like you had a decent amount of cleavage. “Shit, I need to find something else to wear. I swear Hyunjin just wants to make me look like–”

“No! Don’t you dare, you look amazing, you are totally wearing that tonight. Just take a good coat so you don’t get sick.” Just like Chan to nag, you couldn’t help but laugh at his comment.

By the time you both made it to the party it was close to 10pm, definitely late. The taxi left you at the gate at the bottom of a small hill. Making your way up you were grateful you opted for a pair of black boots instead of heels. There were a lot of people making their way up to the house and people spilling out of the house as you got closer. The bass could be heard since you stepped out of the taxi and the closer you got the sounds of chatter, heavy laughter and shouting got louder. Crowds made you nervous but holding on to Chan’s arm made you feel better. After a few drinks you wouldn’t be as nervous or anxious. Alcohol had a way of numbing just about anything.

Stepping into the house the heat of bodies welcomed you, almost immediately encouraging you to take off your coat before handing it to Chan who in turn put it, along with his in the hallway closet. You were familiar enough with Seungmin’s house to be able to use certain areas of his place that would otherwise be deemed unappropriated for others.

“Welcome, welcome friends.” Seungmin said greeting you and Chan with a hug. Hyunjin and Felix followed close behind.

“Wow, (Y/N) that dress looks so much better than I imagined!” Hyunjin didn’t trust your sense of taste when it came to party or club attire so he had the habit of picking things up for you ever since you all started partying and clubbing together junior and senior year of high school.

Felix handed you a drink with a sympathetic look, maybe your nervous were louder on your face than you realized. You looked around the crowd trying to see if you could spot Changbin’s figure but by the looks of it he wasn’t here. Even though you were avoiding him, your heart still sank a little.

Get it together, you scolded yourself.

Before you knew it you found yourself on the dance floor passing between Hyunjin, Felix and a couple of strangers. Drinks and shots started to blur as your nervous melted and you started to feel slightly dizzy at the heat and bass filling your chest. The black lights made everything neon and colorful, there were even bubble machines that left residue of shimmer on everyone’s hair, face and body as they burst.

“Whoa– whoa!” Hyunjin shouted as you grinded your ass on a guy, making you laugh and push the stranger away before turning back to Hyunjin, throwing your arms around his neck and his hanging lazily on your hips. Felix had gone off somewhere, probably the bathroom. “Do you think Changbin will show up?”

You shrugged, not wanting to ruin the fun you were having. “Who knows.”

Eventually, you found yourself alone on the dance floor still as Hyunjin went to look for Felix, probably to do other things with him.

The vibrations of the song were filling you when you felt a pair of hands grab your waist letting you know someone was there, but you couldn’t see who since they were behind you. You let your body lean back into the stranger swaying to the song coming out of the loud speakers. He felt strong and warm though he reeked of weed which immediately turned you off, but you didn’t leave him enjoying his body instead.

“Let’s grab a drink.” The stranger said, grabbing your wrist and leading you off the dance floor, weaving you through the crowd. He wasn’t half bad looking, though, the thought came to you like second nature... but he wasn’t Changbin.

You leaned against the bar, letting the coolness of the marble run up the length of your arms, without thinking you placed your forehead down the bar top to cool off a bit. It felt good against your hot skin and the heat of the room.

“Here you go.” The stranger said handing you the drink with a cocky smile.

You thanked him raising the drink to your lips. He had a dark glint in his eyes that made you hesitate. “Fuck!” You shouted as someone grabbed the wrist you were holding your drink with, jerking it away.

“What the fuck did you put in this?” It was Changbin. You froze as he grabbed the glass out of your hand, still holding onto you. He shoved the glass in the guys face, “Drink it.”

“No way, I got that for her.” He said disgust in his voice, knocking the glass out of Changbin’s hand. It shattered on the floor, but you hardly heard a thing over the loud music that was playing. “What? Is she your bitch?”

“She’s not a bitch and what she is to me is none of your fucking business.” Changbin got between you and the guy, shoving his chest.

Fuck, this was not good. You desperately looked around for Chan or Jisung, anyone that could stop Changbin better than you could. You’d seen him in enough fights to know this wouldn’t end well. Of all the good qualities Changbin had, holding back was not one of them.

“What the fuck man, I was just trying to have a little fun.” The guy shoved Changbin back, though it didn’t have much effect since Changbin had a pretty solid build.

“’A little fun’ by what? By spiking a girls drink? You must be one desperate piece of shit if you can’t get a single girl to sleep with you of their own free will.” Changbin’s words made you go cold.

Did he spike your drink when you weren’t looking?

“No, it’s just funner when their helpless.” The guy retorted.

You could feel the rage boil up in Changbin and spill over seconds before he threw his fist connecting it with the guy’s jaw, sending him stumbling into a crowd. The guy couldn’t recover before Changbin grabbed him by the collar throwing him on the ground and shoving a knee into his chest hitting him again and again.

“You low life piece of shit, I hope you rot in hell.” He said between every punch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck where the hell was everyone when you needed them?! You desperately wanted Changbin to stop fighting. The fact that they had garnered a crowd of on lookers but no one was stepping in annoyed you.

“Changbin, stop!” You pleaded but when he didn’t respond you grabbed his arm just as he was bracing to throw it again, “Please, stop!”

Changbin tensed as he turned to face you, his eyes were scary.. on fire with rage. Your eyes must have been desperate because you could feel his anger slowly start to dissipate. For a moment it was as if everything went quiet and all you could hear was your breathing and heartbeat pounding in your ears.

The stranger seized the moment and opening to escape from under Changbin’s hold and book it into the crowd shoving a few people out of the way.

“Fuck.” Changbin mumbled watching the guy run off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

He helped you to your feet before taking you by the hand and leading you around the bar and up the grand stairwell. His pace was a little faster than what you normally walked and with the alcohol running rampant in your veins you stumbled and struggled to keep up with him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was gripping your hand so tight you knew even if you tripped enough to fall, he would catch you.

The hallway lead off to various rooms and people were piling around room entrances and playing various games from drinking games to board games. The bass still sounded throughout the house, but you could hear a little more clearly from up here.

“Get the fuck out,” Changbin pulled you into Seungmin’s room where two people were making out on his couch. “Now.” He ordered.

The couple glanced at each other but did as they were told, which was good on their part. Changbin was scary when he was mad. You were dreading whatever was about to happen because he pulled you away from the crowd probably to scold you for almost getting yourself drugged.

The couple left closing the door behind them leaving you in a dim lit room with Changbin angrily pacing back and forth.

“You are so reckless!” Changbin’s voice made you flinch. You know he didn’t mean to, but he still needed to learn how to control his anger. “Why would you take a drink from someone you don’t know?”

All you could do was wrap your arms around yourself and avoid Changbin’s eyes. You felt like you could melt under his gaze, or burn.

“There are bad guys out there, (Y/N), just waiting for you to let your guard down enough so they can take advantage of you.” He was saying it with good intentions but that still didn’t make you any less angry about it.

“So, what the hell am I suppose to do then? Just not go out? Not drink or have any fun?” Your argument was weak but you hated being pushed around. Especially by Seo Changbin.

“That’s not the point, (Y/N) and you know it.” He stopped pacing taking an abrupt step towards you, your back hit the wall. He took another step cornering you in.

From this close you could smell his cologne, warm and musky. His chest was rising higher than normal, his anger still evident in his eyes and the way he set his jaw. Damn he looks so hot... wait shut up this is not the right time, you tried shaking the thought away but Changbin hit the wall next to your head making you jump.

“Look at me.” His voice was strained.

“Make me.” You challenged, the words leaving your lips before you could filter them out as this is a really bad idea, don’t say that.

He grabbed your jaw fingers digging into your cheeks forcing you to meet his gaze. It annoyed you how much that turned you on, you squeezed your eyes shut trying to control your lust.

“Do you like it when I get rough with you, is that it?” Changbin squeezed a little tighter until you opened your eyes meeting his. Fuck, was all you could think.

“Maybe.” You replied raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I just want to see you go insane.” 

His dark laugh made you tremble.

“You know what drives me insane?” He sneered, “The fact that we had one decent, open conversation and then you ghost me like a fucking stranger you met off Tinder.”

To be fair, you knew it was coming. You shoved him off, crossing the room before slumping down on the couch, kicking your boots off and crossing one leg over the other so you wouldn’t flash him by accident.

He watched you from across the room as you noticeably gathered your thoughts before starting, “I.. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Changbin threw his head back in disbelief laughing before angrily asking if you were serious. You didn’t reply which seemed to only set him off even more. He crossed the large room in three strides before sitting down on the coffee table right in front of you leaning forward, elbows on his knees, face resting in his hands; but you didn’t flinch or shrink away this time.

“Then why did you do that to me?” His voice was lower now, his eyes were closed as if he was struggling just to say those words. As if he was trying to hid the hurt that was laced in that question.

“Because I wanted you to feel the same hurt that I felt when you abandoned me.” The words stumbled out of your mouth again before you could stop them.

You both froze.

It’s not something you consciously had thought out, but as soon as you said it you realized that was it. That was the real reason you were avoiding him, you wanted to get back at him. You wanted him to feel the same pain and loneliness you did when he left. Of what could have been but wasn’t.

“That’s fair.” Changbin concluded before straightening his back. “I don’t blame you.”

You sized him up trying to find any trace that he was lying, but he seemed a little more relaxed now. His shoulders were slack, his breathing was normal, eyes serious.

“Really?”

He nodded. “There is one thing though.” He said placing his hand on your knee before pushing it off your other leg. “I haven’t repaid you for that one time at the apartment.”

Your eyes widened as he pushed your legs apart. “Wh–what are you doing?”

He smirked at your sudden shyness. “I told you. Paying you back.”

“No, no it’s okay, I swear, just don’t mention it.” You clumsily shot up before stepping a safe distance away suddenly cursing yourself for being barefoot.

He laughed with his whole chest before standing up straight. “Come on, you were not this shy sucking me off.”

Your cheeks were burning, you were positive your face was the same color as your dress. Changbin made his way over to you, pushing your hair back behind your shoulder. The closeness of his body, the way his eyes made trails down your neck and collarbones made you tremble again, you tried crossing your arms to keep yourself still.

He noticed you shaking.

“Hey, (Y/N), it’s really okay if you don’t want to. I would never do anything you weren’t comfortable with.” His voice was soft, worried.

“It’s not that,” You trailed off averting your gaze. “It’s just I’ve never been... You know.”

“Never what?” He raised his eyebrow in that way that said, I don’t believe you,”I know you’re not a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Of course not, I mean the,” You flailed with your hand trying to get the point across without explicitly saying it, “I’ve never.. you know.”

Realization dawned on his features, “Oh... you’ve never been eaten out?”

“Fuck, yes, Changbin. That. God.” The fact that he said it out loud made you even more shy.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” He said before pinching your cheek and biting his lip.

“This room’s taken.” Changbin called as a couple walked in barely keeping each other on their feet. He shoved them out before closing and locking the door behind them.

“Changbin!” You squeaked as he rushed back over to you, picking you up off the ground and carrying you to the bed before tossing you easily on it. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, one you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Who let you wear this dress?” He asked pulling at it teasingly; undressing you with his eyes.

“Jinnie bought it for me.” You replied. He took off his jacket, the sleeves of his black shirt were cut off revealing his biceps. “Been working out?” You asked not hiding your want anymore.

“Like what you see?” Changbin asked before pulling your legs towards him so your bum was at the end of the mattress.

You nodded, biting the tip of your finger as you gazed up at him. He ran his hands up your calves and thighs before tugging you a little closer to the edge.

“When did you get so buff?” You asked half teasing. He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, you know just looking out for my health.”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes laughing.

There was silence as Changbin took you in again, staring down at you, his face unreadable as always. “Would it be okay if we forgot everything for a little while?”

His words made you catch your breath in your chest. Your fingertips grazed his hands on your thighs, slowly back and forth before nodding hesitantly, “That sounds fun” You breathed.

Changbin smiled before slipping his hands under your dress and slowly pulled down your lacy black panties. He got on his knees and spread your legs open, the motion made you squeeze your eyes shut squeaking in the process, covering your face with your hands.

“Ah, what? Don’t tell me you’re still shy.” Changbin laughed before placing small kisses on the inside of your thighs, switching between the two. There was a soft romantic song playing in the distance, so you tried to focus on it to calm your increasing heartbeat as Changbin kissed and sucked small spots on your sensitive skin.

His breath was warm as were his lips and his hands felt like they were burning on your thighs. It wasn’t long until you felt your body longing for more of him. He noticed the way your breathing started to come slightly quicker, the way your legs started to unconsciously shake with want and desire. He saw the way you bit your lip trying to keep yourself from making any sound, and the way you covered your eyes with your arm, hand clenched into a fist.

He smirked wanting to make you break.

“Oh, my god.” You breathed as you felt his tongue trace along your folds. You trembled at his warm touch. He liked the way you looked from this point of view and the way you tasted on his tongue.

His mouth found your clit and you let out a “Fuck,” as he drew circles with his tongue, the sensation sending waves of pleasure that you had never felt before. It was so much better than touching yourself. He went between licking you up and circling your clit occasionally sucking on it making you whimper.

“That feels so so good,” Your hands found their way into his hair pushing it out of his eyes, he looked sexy from here.

“I’m glad you like it,” He hummed still at your core, the vibrations of his voice against your clit making you shake.

You could feel the heat starting to rise, the way that familiar knot was forming in your core. 

But suddenly, you remembered the guy on the dance floor. The way he smelled of weed, the way he pushed his body against your back. The way he lead you off the dance floor and handed you the drink. The drink you almost drank, the one he drugged to... 

The sensation hit you like a truck after a few minutes and you could feel the pleasure start to change into something else, your breathing was coming out faster and heavier. The walls of the room started to close in and you felt like you might pass out. Your thighs were trembling and Changbin had to hold them open to keep you from trying to close them.

“Changbin I– I– fuck, I–,” you couldn’t form a coherent sentence and panic started to rise in your chest. There were black dots starting to dance across your vision, you felt claustrophobic, “Shit, it’s really heavy. Changbin, please,”

 “Please what?” He asked, noticing panic in your voice. But you couldn’t speak all you could do was clench his hair making him stop.

“I– I need to catch my breath.” Fuck why were you panicking now. You sat up clenching your chest trying to focus your breathing. Changbin was sitting back on his knees, he grabbed your face between his hands trying to get you to focus on him.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay just look at me. Focus on me.” His eyes and voice were calm but you felt a small part of you unraveling. Your chest hurt from how hard you were trying to breath, you tried closing your eyes but Changbin got your attention again, “No, (Y/N) look at me, keep focusing on me. I’m here. I’m real.”

Your eyes desperately searched his face trying to center yourself.

“The guy fro–from be–before, I– I’m having a p–anic attack,” You chocked out trying to at least tell him what was happening. It wasn’t the first time he saw you panic, but it had been a very long time.

“Okay, baby, don’t worry I’m right here. Just breathe. Can you tell me five things you can see? Come on, just five little things.” You could only see a small glint of desperation in his eyes.

“H–hair,” You chocked out looking at his dark hair, “Eyes,” His eyes that felt like home...

“That’s great, baby, really great. Three more. Just tell me three more little things you see.” Changbin encouraged, hands warm against your cheeks.

“Nose” that you loved to pinch when you would tease him in high school, “Cheeks,” they were flushed, “Lips,” they were soft and still wet from eating you out, your eyes stayed there.

“Great. Now four things you can touch.”

Your breathing was still heavy but you were a tiny bit calmer. You touched the bed for a few seconds, your dress, his hair and his hands on your face.

“Three things you can hear.” He continued calmly, voice like honey.

You concentrated, “rain, piano, your breathing.”

“Two things you can smell.”

“Beer and... your cologne.” Your eyes were closed but you were almost in complete control again.

“That’s amazing baby, now tell me one thing you can taste,”

“Dos XX.” You opened your eyes, he was smiling softly. “Damn it, Changbin I’m so sorry.”

You felt so guilty for freaking out like that. It was something that was out of your control but you still felt guilty and week for letting it overtake you like that. Especially now of all moments.

Changbin stayed on his knees looking up at you. You felt so embarrassed. Why did that have to happen now, you cursed yourself again. It had been months since your last panic attack but something about the way that guy tried to drug you made you lose your mind.

You pulled Changbin’s arm tugging him to join you on the bed. “Can you hug me for a bit, please?”

He chuckled before kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed. He pulled your body back with him as he sat up right against the headboard. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist as you settled between his legs. He rested his chin on your shoulder half mumbling half singing the lyrics to I will follow you into the dark and swaying you gently. You closed your eyes relaxing against his chest, feeling the vibrations as he sang the sweet words into your ear. You felt at home in his arms, they were strong and safe. Like a fortress.

After a while of being like this you shifted in his embrace enough to where you could look up at him.

“What?” He asked half worried half smiling.

“Thank you for saving me. Or well, not saving me but you know... saving me. I didn’t realize the guy was a total scumbag. I should have been more careful.” You looked down fiddling with your fingers.

Changbin was quiet for a long time before responding. “If you let me be near you again, I promise I will always keep you safe.”

You met his gaze again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, yes, I like you. A lot, actually. But I understand if you don’t want to be with me in that way or at least not right now, but it would be really great if we could try being friends again.. like before.”

Like before.

That’s all you had ever wanted. Was to go back to how things had been before, but you weren’t sure if that was even possible anymore. So much at had changed, everything was different. You were different.

“Can we go back to forgetting everything... Just for a little while longer?” You asked placing your hand on his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. You felt tired from the panic attack, but you need to feel something. Something that would replace the fear.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Changbin asked, he was hesitating against your lips.

You nodded pulling him into a kiss, your hands getting lost in his hair. Everything seemed to rush, the way your teeth teased his lips and his yours. The way you shifted yourself to lay down on your back pulling Changbin on top of you as you did. The way his hands slipped under your dress feeling your cold skin, and yours tugging his shirt desperately. You pulled the shirt over his head tossing it to the side before he went back to your lips shoving his tongue into your mouth. You could still taste yourself on his tongue and you blushed.

“I really want you to fuck me.”

Changbin chocked at your comment before laughing, “Damn, you can be really bold sometimes. I like it.”

He wasted no time unbuckling his belt buck, he looked so sexy doing it biting his lip, he knew what he could do to you. Changbin discarded the rest of his clothes and pulled your dress off surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra.

“What?” You teased.

“Nothing, you’re just really hot.” His lips were hot on your chest, trailing down your stomach and back up again. His hands massaging your boobs before taking one in his mouth, he nibbling on your nipple the sensation making you whimper.

You pulled him by his hair back up to your lips, your legs wrapping around his bare waist pulling his naked body to yours.

“If you make me wait any longer I’m going to go crazy,” You whined pouting at Changbin making him laugh. “Oh, fuck,” he said shaking his head, “I don’t have a condom, I forgot my wallet at home...” At this point you were so turned on you just wanted to hit him, but you needed him so desperately. 

“It’s okay, I’m on the pill. Either way, I trust you.” You looked at him as you consented, before pulling his body closer to yours. The tip of his throbbing cock was teasing your entrance and you whined pushing your hips to get closer to him.

Changbin tsked, “You’re so impatient baby girl.”

“I need you, I don’t want to feel afraid anymore.” You didn’t care that the words sounded dumb or selfish, it was the truth.

“You don’t need to be afraid with me around.” He hummed into your neck brushing his head against your cheek, his hair was soft and smelled of mint. “I’ll keep you safe.” his words gave you chills.

“I know that, Changbin.” You didn’t, but you wanted to.

He slowly pushed his tip into your entrance making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Look at me,” Changbin said grabbing your jaw in the way that was starting to feel familiar. “I want you to know that it’s me, that it’s me and no one else.”

You picked up on what he was hinting at, because there were things he noticed that you didn’t. Like what may or may not trigger another panic attack. He was right, so you kept your eyes open, watching as his face scrunched up as he pushed himself into your pussy stretching you out.

“Oh, fuck that’s tight.” He groaned, voice raspy and deep. “Fuck.”

He waited for you to adjust before continuing to move slowly in and out. You were still slick from before, so even though he filled you up it felt so good. The way he kissed your neck, and left love marks made you whine and tell him how much you had always wanted to do this.

“How many times have you thought about fucking me?” He asked, sitting back on his knees and pulling your waist higher to fuck you at a better angle. These types of positions always made you a little self conscious since he had a full frontal view, but you felt safe under his gaze.

“Too many to count.” You admitted laughing before moaning as he picked up the pace in time to the song that was playing downstairs. The friction felt like heaven and you felt the butterflies in your stomach start to turn into little knots. “Have you ever thought about fucking me?”

“Since the day I met you,” Changbin confessed between moans. “Fuck (Y/N) you feel so fucking good.”

“Changbin,” You moaned his name, eyes rolling back shut. You arched your back slightly as he pounded into you, the increased pace was making you feel hotter. “Fuck, if I would have known you were this good I would have asked you to fuck me sooner.”

He laughed at your vulgar comment, “Where? Like at the hide out?” He slammed into you again making you curse, your walls starting to clench around his cock.

“Yeah, that would have been really fun.” You found his hand and squeezed it. “Shit, I’m getting really close.” “Don’t worry baby you can cum whenever you want.” His words made you go crazy, and he praised you telling you how well you were doing. He pulled your legs up over his shoulder and bottoming you out with each and every thrust.

“Changbin, don’t stop.” You moaned as the sound of his skin slapping yours echoed louder and louder, Changbin’s breathing was hitching and you knew he was about to cum too. “Fuck,” The knots in your stomach turned into heatwaves as you released onto Changbin, he slammed into you harder and faster the friction making you see stars.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Changbin moaned your name as he came in you, his hot white liquid filling you up and you loved the way it felt. “Shit.”

He fell on your chest letting your legs rest on either side of him, you both struggled to catch your breath but the sound was sweet in your ears. Changbin kept telling you how beautiful you looked in this mess and how amazing you felt. You ran your fingers through his wet hair, admiring his beautiful features as he rested on your chest.

“Hands down,” Changbin breathed, swallowing his spit to hydrate his dry throat, “My favorite.”

You waited for him to finish his thought but he didn’t.

“Your favorite what?” You probed, putting your arm on your forehead still coming down from your high.

“Oh, my favorite sex round.” He said still breathing heavy, laughing. The sound echoing in your chest.

“Yeah, it was pretty fucking amazing.” You agreed. Changbin pulled himself out of you slowly before settling next to you pulling you close. You rested your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat return to normal, the sound bringing you peace.

His hand traced the curve of your waist, and he did that for long time.

Eventually you both fell asleep and sometime through the night, decided to just keep sleeping getting comfortable under the covers and Changbin’s skin pressed against yours.

It was the first night in a long time where you felt like you actually rested well. The morning light woke you and for a few seconds you started to panic, until you saw Changbin’s sleeping face next to yours. Then you remembered the night before, and the amazing things you felt. You calmed your heart and snuggled back into his chest.

“Mm?” he mused lightly.

“Shh, sorry for waking you.” You whispered wrapping your arms around him tightly. He chuckled and fell back asleep in seconds.

That was until Seungmin walked through the door and started yelling every curse word in the book, “What the fuck do you guys think you’re doing in my bed. Wait, fuck, what the hell did you guys do in my bed? Don’t tell me you fucking had sex in my bed that is so fucking gross. Ew! I hate you guys, we’re not friends anymore, get the hell out of my house and wash the damn sheets before you leave I’m telling Chan on you guys..” Seungmin stormed out of the room continuing his rant.

You and Changbin exchanged looks before bursting out laughing.

“I really hope this doesn’t turn into an everyday thing when we have sex.” Changbin said whipping a tear from his eye from laughing so hard. First Chan and now Seungmin.

You prayed to the gods the same thing.

[mango-da-dango]

It’s Purgatory Time!

Warning: Death, cursing. If you are not comfortable with any of these subjects, either proceed with caution or click away.

^^^ The image up there are the characters, but Y/n, This is how I had her dress and how I imagined how she would look like. 

Main Characters: Y/n L/n (Reader) Rico Brzenska, Yuuto Takahashi (OC) Daniel Stephenson (OC)

“Rico-Hancho!” A cadet screamed out.  The small woman groaned as the titan gripped her body          

“Damn! I can’t breathe!” She panicked. The titan looked closely at the woman. Expecting it to eat her, Rico drew her sword attempting to fight one more time. Instead, the titan gripped her harder before tossing her like a rag doll. Her body limps as she rolled down the hill. Each stone hitting her felt like spikes piercing her skin. Finally stopping, she laid there in pain,

“ I. . . have to keep fighting! I can’t stop now!” She panted. Trying to move one of her limbs felt like her body was being ripped apart. The pain surged through her veins as she tried to get up. Her eyes felt heavy and her vision started to blur. She felt her heart rate decrease.

“No…. I can’t die. Not yet.” She thought, gripping the emblem on her breast-pocket. As the blood seeped through her clothes, the thick red liquid painted the ground beneath her. She coughed out blood and tears pricked the corner of her eyes. Slowly her eyelids drooped and finally, she drew out her last breath.

|  ￣￣￣￣￣￣ |  

|   Time skip      |                  _______

|____________|                 /   R.I.P. �� \

               ||                         | Here lies |

               ||                        |    Rico     |

               ||                      (\|________|/)

(\__/)      || 

(•ㅅ•)     || 

/ 　      づ  ______________________

Beep. . . Beep . . . Beep

The sound of chatter and a constant beeping was enough to wake her up. Bright white ceilings and strange glass contraptions made of glass blinded her blurry vision.

“Oh, glad to see you up. Hope ya had a nice nap.” said a masculine voice. Rico squinted at the figure in front of her. He picked up a small framed pair of silver glasses and held it out for her. Rico sat up while taking her glasses and looked around. She gasped seeing familiar faces.

Everyone who was thought to be dead. They were right in front of her, all in white clothing and wrapped in bandages. 

“Rico? What happened?” A familiar voice piped up. Rico yelled at the sighted of her formally deceased friend. Ian Dietrich, the Ian who got his head chopped off was there. Well . . . part of him. Right now, he was just a head on a neck and a small part of his shoulders.

“I-Ian?” She stuttered. 

“Rico? Is that you?” Her other friend Mitabi called out at the bed next to her. Half of him looked ok and the other half looked flatter than a piece of paper. “Hey, Rico. How’d you end up here?”

“Wh-what? A-am I dead? Where am I?” Rico faltered, “Is this the afterlife?”

“Eh, more or less.” The black-haired male said as he picked up a clipboard and stood up.

“My names Yuuto by the way. You’ll have to wait for my work bros to get here so they can tell you the info you need.” He added before walking off.

“W-work . . . bro?” She muttered to herself.

“Apparently, it’s a term called “slang” from where he’s from.” A male voice clarified. There he was, Freckled Jesus himself, Marco Bodt, bandaged up and half his body missing. “By the way, you’re in the purgatory hospital.”

“Purgatory? So I’m dead?” She questioned. The clicking of heels grew louder as a small woman with (H/C) hair and heterochromatic eyes marched in. 

“Affirmative!” chirped the small woman. Her gloved hand held up a pink and blue clipboard. 

           “But, possibly not for long,” said the woman. “You see, you’re a special case. Since your body wasn’t too injured and nobody saw you die. You should be perfectly good to go home in a few hours!”

           “Wait, I’m going back after I die?” she asked, confused.

           “Yep! You are a soldier! And all soldiers, warriors, fighters etc, etc, go to this reserved heaven where they live the rest of your afterlife. Unfortunately, that place is lacking space for everyone and you have some unfinished business to attend to.” The woman explained.  Rico examined herself. She no longer had the small scratches or bruises made when she rolled down the hill, it looked like it never happened at all. And more importantly, the gash on her body was gone and what was left was a pink scar running down her stomach.

           “Now you just have to wait for your check-up with Dr Daniel Stephenson. However, he is with another patient right now so we have a bit of time in our hands.” Said the woman, grabbing a chair and sitting next to the silver-haired woman. Crossing her leg and placing the clipboard on the nightstand, she turned to the woman and smiled. “How are you feeling? Do you have any questions? My name is (Y/N) (L/N) it is a pleasure to meet you.”

           “Likewise, it is a pleasure to meet you too,” said Rico. “And yes, I do have questions, What exactly is this place?”

           “You are at Purgatory Hospital. This is the place where the people who died in battle go to recover from their injuries before going into soldier heaven, and as I said you have unfinished business to attend to in your universe.”

           “Business? Universe? There are other universes and this supposed heaven is lacking space?” Rico pondered. The (H/C)-coloured woman nodded.

           “Yes, unfortunately, there are too many people dying on the battlefield, and it is too much for soldier heaven to adjust to the rapid increase of the population, and your universe is not the only one, this place is connected to various universes in different timelines.”

           “Well how exactly do you get here and how do you go back?”  asked Rico.

           “You get here by dying, your spirit floats itself into the hospital for treatment, If your body is intact you’ll be able to heal quickly, however, if a part of your body is missing, it’s a different story. For example what happened to your friend Ian.” said (Y/N) motioning to Ian’s disembodied head. “You have to wait so we can regenerate the rest of your body, but it also comes with conditions.”

           “Conditions?” Rico asked. (Y/N) nodded.

           “Yes, because of your replacements, there are side effects that relate to your death. For example, the scar on your stomach shows the fatal wound that leads you to your passing.” She explained.

           “Alright, but what exactly are you? Are you some sort of nurse or doctor?” Rico speculated. The woman in front of her laughed.

           “I guess something similar, but not in the medical field.” She explained. “I am a doctor in the scientific field, but I am here to explain to you what is happening, so you don’t go crazy or anything like that.”

           Just at that moment a tall two-toned man with a lab coat and an eye patch over his right eye walked into the room and stopped in front of Rico.

           “Are you Ms Rico Brzenska?”  The man asked. Rico nodded.

           “Good! I’m Doctor Daniel Stephenson, and I am here to your physical exam to see if you are ready to go,” said Daniel, putting on his stethoscope, and placing it on her chest. He continued the exam. Writing the last bit of a sentence down, Daniel smiled at Rico. 

           “Good news, you’ll be able to go home now! You just need to sign here and (Y/n) will bring you home.” He said, pointing to a line with an x on the side. Rico took the pen and wrote down her name. Daniel smiled and motioned for (Y/n).

           “Little lamb, she’s ready to go home, you can take her now.” the two-toned male smiled.

           “Aye-aye captain.” (Y/n) smiled, turning to the silver-haired woman. “Well, Miss Rico. Follow me and we’ll give you a change of clothes and we can bring you home in a jiffy.”

(Y/n) lead the silver-haired woman thorough a hallway and to a door with a metal plate saying “Belongings space” She opened the door and let themselves in. The inside was fairly big and had clothing racks that stretched miles and miles far. Each rack was labelled with numbers and titles. The scientist led Rico to a rack that was labelled “Titan Universe: Garrison soldiers”

           “It should be around here somewhere . . .” she said sifting through the countless racks of uniforms. “And . . . Here it is!”

           The small scientist pulled out a familiar uniform, handing it to Rico she leads the woman into a changing station.

           “You can change here, call me when you’re done.” (y/n) said as she closed the curtain giving Rico the privacy she needs.

           Rico stared at her uniform. She noticed that her name was hand-sewn into the back of her collar. Stripping herself of the grey clothing she was provided with and changed back into the familiar uniform. Once she had finished changing she moved the curtain and saw the scientist waiting for her.

           “Good! You’re done!” she beamed. Grabbing her by the wrist she led Rico out to a room with a variety of sharp objects. All a variety of scissors to swords and spears. There were also large platforms and machines next to them. Everything was interesting but what piqued her interest was this one platform with what looked like a big hole in the air.

           “Alrighty Rico, You just need to step into the portal and you should be in the forest close to the walls!” She explained, “Also, don’t mention this place to anyone yet. Okay, Bye Bye!”

           “Huh?” Rico asked before she was shoved into the bright portal. A flash of blue light surrounded her before landing on the green ground. Groaning, she got up and dusted herself off. 

“She could have at least told me first.” Rico thought to herself. Seeing that there were no titans she jogged closer to Wall Rose.

           Two garrison soldiers were talking amongst each other on top of the wall when they spotted a small figure jogging to the walls.

           “Holy Shit! It’s team leader Rico! Tell them to open the gate!” One of them yelled. The gate soon rose from the ground letting Rico pass through. She was soon surrounded by her comrades asking her questions left and right.

           “Rico! Thank the walls! Good to have you back!” Hannes shouted passing through the crowd with Kitz.

           “It's a miracle that you survived out there without your gear." A soldier praised in awe,

            "Yeah. . . survived...."  Rico mumbled under her breath.

            "It's commander Pyxis!" A soldier shouted. The bald man came through the crowd and stopped in front of the small woman. Rico saluted and Pyxis chuckled.

           "At ease. Rico. You should go and freshen up. You must have been through a lot it there with no gear, you have my permission to take the rest of the day off." Pyxis insisted.

             "Thank you, Commander. You're too kind." she thanked. The male nodded and left, leaving Rico to her own devices. Eventually, everyone else left and she went back to her room. Once there she closed the door behind her and went to sit in her chair. She leaned her head into her hands and began to think about everything that has happened,

             "They'll be back. Everyone who died. Who got eaten, squished killed by the titans. . . They're going to come back..." Rico thought she had very mixed feelings about this. She was happy that her comrades would come back to her, but does she really want them to go back to this hellhole? Just so they can die again? She didn't know. 

             Rico sighed and got out of her uniform, changing into her nightwear and went to bed. She closed her eyes and let the darkness of slumber take her.

[jesbakescookies]

Too Hot To Handle: Chapter Thirteen

So I kinda wrote a different kind of fanfiction. It’s nothing as in depth as my other fics so I am going to post it here. ENJOY!!

  ***Actor, Real Person Fanfiction, Walking Dead RPF***

Featuring: Jeffrey Dean Morgan X Original Female Character, Norman Reedus and others.. (FYI this is total fiction, as in I know nothing about JDMs life or that of his real SO and son etc. Because of this, for this work of fiction, they don’t exist. Jeffrey’s been a typical actor playboy dating fellow stars etc. This is written for sick daydreaming pleasure.)

Aria St. James is a busy woman with a thriving restaurant. She thought she had everything she needed until a few famous faces visit her dining room. A tall, dark and handsome actor decides Aria’s just what he’s been looking for.

Rating: Mature

They were driving over to Norman’s place for a small dinner with a few other of Jeffrey’s friends. Aria chewed her lip as they pulled up to the large home surrounded by land. “No reason to be nervous.” Jeffrey rasped, his lip quirked to the side. Rolling her eyes, she pled ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.” “Right and that gnawed lip and bouncing knee is because you’re excited right?” “Fine. I’m nervous alright. Happy?” “No, I’m not happy you’re stressed out. It’s just dinner with Norman. You met him already. Then there’s his assistant and Steven and his wife. Maybe a couple others. Nothing too crazy.” “Yeah I just… I’m not from this crowd Jeff.” She sighed, her eyes narrowing as she tried to say what she was feeling. “I don’t know how to talk to people like that?” “You talk like you always fucking talk. You don’t have a problem talking to me.” “You’re different.” “How?” “You know what they say about assuaging your nerves in front of groups of people, well, I can picture you naked far easier than them.” Barking out laugh, he replied, “I’d prefer if you didn’t picture Norman naked thank you very fucking much.”

Smirking she squeezed his hand and offered, “don’t worry dear. I prefer silver foxes.” “You better.” He grunted, pulling her closer and kissing her deeply. His hands sunk in her hair and cupped her head. “Don’t worry sweetpea. I won’t leave your side alright?” He murmured against her lips, his hooded eyes staring deeply into hers. The words sunk into her, the heavy meaning causing her to swallow thickly. Without him even knowing, Jeffrey soothed the worry that had plagued her the previous week. She knew he hadn’t meant anything more than leaving her alone at the party but it was enough to lift her shoulders and ease the tightness in her chest. “Thank you.” She breathed, her eyes tracing over his handsome face. Leaning in to press his lips against her forehead, he rasped, “it’s not a fucking hardship sweetheart. I want to be with you.” Kissing her once more, Jeffrey tipped his head to the house and instructed, “Now let’s go eat some fucking food. I’m starving.” “Surprise, surprise.” Aria deadpanned, smirking as he glared at her with no heat. Pulling her into his side, Jeffrey dipped his head and growled into her ear, “Gonna get it later Ms. Sassy Britches.” Chuckling, Aria curled her hand in his leather jacket and peered up at him. “Looking forward to it, Mr. Morgan.”

The home was eclectic, filled with photography and art. The furniture a mix of comfortable leather and industrial lines. Jeffrey glared at Norman as he hugged Aria like an old friend, his eyebrows wagging at Jeffrey over her shoulder. Flipping him the finger, Jeffrey hung up his coat and Aria’s bag. “I’m glad this asshole finally pulled you out of your restaurant.” Norman joked, his smile easy and teasing. “I figured you just hated me.” “I do but he made me come.” She replied even, her face without any expression. Jeffrey belted out a laugh as Norman pouted like a child. Aria cracked, her smile finally breaking through. “Oh my god classic.” Steven chortled in the background. Reaching out he shook Aria’s hand and introduced himself and his wife. Aria smiled and waved at the few people lounging around. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Jeff too much.” Norman complained but winked at her. “Although he’s been less of a prick now that he’s dating you.” Snorting, Aria commented, “Sorry to inform you but I’ve always been kind of an asshole.“ Everyone laughed, Jeffrey enjoying her seamless entry into his group of friends. He knew she would fit in perfectly, it was just getting her used to the idea of hanging out with people she’d seen on television or the big screen. 

They ate dinner on the large porch, Norman having food brought in which had Aria scowling. Jeffrey couldn’t hold in the chuckle as she looked at the iceberg lettuce salad. Putting a finger on her lips as she opened to spew a tirade about the abhorrent vegetable, Jeffrey grinned at her. "Bite your tongue my dear.” He murmured into her ear, his breath hot. Her narrowed eyes would’ve scalded others but her twitching lip exposed the humor she felt from his advise. “Fine.” She mumbled under his digit, pulling his hand away. “I’ll be good.” Nudging her ear with his nose he rasped, “You can be bad when we get home.” “What’re you two whispering about?” Norman asked, his eyebrows raised. “Wanna share with the class?” “Nope.” Aria replied, popping her lips before giving him a chesire grin.  “Mean. She’s mean Jeff. I get why you two get along.” Norman grumbled, his eyes narrowed but playful. “You’re just mad because he asked me out first.” Aria commented, a haughty brow raised as she sipped her wine nonchalantly. Jeffrey flashed a cocky grin as Norman seemed to blush from head to toe. 

“You told her?” The shaggy haired man rasped, shaking his head. “Man what about the bro code.”

“I had to. You were bitching me out while we were on a date.” “Wait, wait, wait.” Steven exclaimed, his hand up to stop them from speaking. “What’s this about?” Jeffrey grinned and rocked his head back and prodded Norman. “Come on man, tell ‘em.” “Fuck all y'all.” Norman snapped, his mouth twisting into a wry grin. Rolling her eyes, Aria explained, “they both came into the restaurant and introduced themselves. Jeff took initiative and asked me out before Norman could.” “Snooze you lose brother.” Jeffrey quipped, sipping his beer with a smirk. The others cracked up at Norman expense, his pout more than obnoxious. Aria took pity on him and offered, “If it makes you feel any better Jeff made up a whole story as to why he happened to be at my work at one in the morning.” “Hell yeah it will. Tell us.” Feeling his neck heat, Jeffrey wrapped his arm around Aria and covered her mouth. “Now, now. There’s no need to bring that up.” Laughing under his hand, Aria pulled it down and cooed, “Oh come on it’s so cute.” “Nope. I’m using my veto.” “Your veto?” “Yep. We each get a veto to put the kibosh on embarrassing couple stories and that’s mine.” “Oh man come on.” Norman bitched, lighting up a smoke and blowing it to the side. “Soothe my wounded pride.” Jeffrey sighed deeply and looked down at Aria’s quirked smile and lively eyes and found he couldn’t deny her anything. “Fine. You tell it once and only once.”

Aria stood in the bathroom, her little legs bare to mid thigh where his shirt ended. He smirked as she stood on her toes to reach something in the medicine cabinet. Jeffrey lay in bed, his body propped against the headboard. He liked being in her place, in her bed. It felt right. Seeing her prepare for bed, her little rituals of washing her face and applying lotion. Enjoying her occasional glances as though he were just as enthralling to her, as she was to him. “You’re staring.” She commented, while rubbing her legs with a vanilla scented cream. “Let me do that.” He instructed, his breathing shallow as her hazelnut eyes connected with his. “Come here beautiful.” Inhaling sharply at the sight of her heated gaze, Jeffrey bit his lip hungrily. Picking up the tiny bottle, Aria sauntered towards him with soft hips swaying below the loose cotton. He’d never seen something more sensual as she crawled towards him with flushed cheeks and tight peaks.  “Fuck.” He groaned, his eyes dropping closed for a split second as though overwhelmed by the stimuli. “Sweetpea. Sit on my lap.” His voice was so coarse it caused a shiver to run up her spine, her arms breaking out in goosebumps. Jeffrey smiled at the sight but lost patience and pulled her on top of him. The giggle she released as he scooped her up into his lap had him grinning widely. Smoothing his large hands up and down her thighs, Jeffrey rubbed the lotion into her skin. “Love how soft you are.” He murmured, his heavy eyes watching his life worn palms passed over her curvy thighs and hips. Aria slid her hand up the center of his stomach, through his chest hair, curling her fingers in it. “I like how hard you are.” She breathed, rolling her hips against his painfully stiff dick. “Goddamn sweetheart.” He groaned, his head thrown back into the soft pillows. “Jesus you feel so good.” Bracing her hands on his chest, she ground against him in  seductive circles. Grasping her hips while thrusting upwards, Jeffrey growled , “Let me taste you.” Ari lunged forward to bury her hands in his hair, while their mouths devoured each other. He growled deeply as she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down gently. “Ari.“ He gasped, his hands clutching her ass while writhing under her. Gripping  the shirt hiding her luscious body, Jeffrey yanked it over her head and tossed it aside. She was only wearing panties and a smile, her eyes twinkling as he stared dumbly at her. "You’re so damn pretty.” He drawled with a rough twang. Aria bit her lip and stroked her hands up her own body, her palms massaging the soft flesh he wanted to touch, lick, bite, suck and fuck. 

“Mine.” He grunted, pushing her hands away to cup the warm weight. Clenching his eyes shut, he thrust upwards to relieve the throbbing ache in his groin. Kneading the soft curves gently while brushing his thumb across her tight nipples. “I ever tell you what perfect breasts you have?” “Probably. You are pretty smooth.” “Well let me remind you.” Pulling her forward while dipping his head, Jeffrey consumed her breast with lips, tongue and teeth. He growled and nipped causing her to whine and grind against his lap. Tugging her panties aside, he wasted no time sinking two fingers into her tight little body. Aria dropped her head backwards, her chest jutting out into his face, begging him for more. Sucking as much of her breast as possible into his mouth, he growled while thrusting his fingers with a steady rhythm. Her breathy moans and sharp gasps had him desperate and needy for more. Curling his fingers upwards and sucking her tender, Jeffrey felt her walls flutter. 

“That’s it… yeah, I feel you baby. Let me hear you.”

“Fuck.” Aria gasped towards the ceiling, her body seizing as she clawed into his chest and shoulder. “Jeff, J-…fuck.”

Watching her shatter on top of his lap had him close to cumming in his shorts. He’d never seen anything prettier than the pale pink flush crawling up her breasts, all the way to her cheeks. “Oh baby girl.” He purred, his fingers slipping from her panties and into her mouth. Moaning as she sucked his fingers clean, he couldn’t stop from imagining her wet mouth on his dick. “Fucking hell.” He cursed as she buried her hand in his boxers. “Take those off me.” Biting her lip at the order, Aria instantly undressed him before yanking off her own underwear and grabbing a condom. “Good girl. Now get back over here.” Smirking at him, Aria replied, “There’s something I need to do first.” Jeffrey opened his mouth to ask but ended up choking on his words. Her mouth was both heaven and hell combined, it felt too fucking good. “Son of a-.” Jeffrey gasped, looking down to see her blown pupils peering up at him. Her soft lips stretched around his dick as her tongue curled along the bottom, her head bobbing slow and steady. “Baby. Oh god sweetheart.” His hands sunk into her hair, the silky strands slipping through his fingers as he enjoyed the feeling of her hot wet mouth. “Gotta stop. Fuck.. baby.” Aria hummed deeply, the sensation causing his hips to thrust off the bed and into the source. Curling his hands into her hair, he made a few shallow thrusts before it became too much and too soon. “Stop. Fucking …. Jesus fucking Christ.” He cursed while physically removing her from his throbbing dick. “Holy hell sweetheart that’s fucking amazing and all but I want to bury this between those thighs.” Aria slid onto his lap and prepared him before slide down with eager eyes. Smirking at him with red swollen lips, she let him taste himself on her tongue.  Jeffrey didn’t even try to withhold the deep and desperate groan that bounced off the walls. He had to make a conscious effort not to dig his fingers into her perfect skin. “Fuck, ride me darlin’. You feel so goddamn good.” Gripping the headboard next to his head, Aria began to rise and fall on his dick. Her perfect little body pulling desperate groans and fierce growls from his throat. Jeffrey lifted her up before pushing her down on his lap repeatedly. He wanted to live  inside her, just rut and burrow into her and feel her flutter and flex around him. “Holy hell doll.” He growled, wrapping her up and flipping them over. Jeffrey pinned her knees to the bed and began rolling his long lean body into hers, his hips filling her to the brim. “Please.” She begged, her lips trembling and eyes hooded. “Tell me what you need sweetheart. Anything.” “Harder.” A deep growl rattled his ribcage, his teeth bared hungrily. “Hold on darlin’.” The unrestrained moan she released shot lightening through his body, curling his toes. Snapping his hips with pure gluttony, Jeffrey kept her spread wide and vulnerable. “You feel that baby girl?” He panted, bending down to nip her breast. “Daddy treating you right?” “Fuck yes.” She gasped, her fingers curling into his hair and scratching his scalp. Chills ran down his spine and swelled his dick, he needed more. Pulling out, Jeffrey flipped her over and pulled her hips back sharply. He slid inside with no stop in pace or strength. Aria yelped but pressed backwards, her ass grinding onto his dick as he pounded her into the mattress. Growling into her shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her torso to hold her neck. His hips kept rolling into her as he rasped filth into her ear. “I feel you. Tight little cunt just begging for it. Fuck, I’m walling you out right now baby. God fucking damn. Squeeze my dick.” Aria moaned as he tighten his hand around her neck and sped up his hips. The sound of slapping skin was smothered by the pounding heartbeat in his head. Her muscles clamped down on him, the total dominating presence of him controlling not only her pleasure but her breath, shoved her off the edge. The snarl he unleashed made her flutter and gush. “Good girl. Fuck. You’re mine. Tell me.” “I’m y-yours.” “More.” “Fuck, Jeff. I’m yours, no one else’s. Fuck.” “More.” He growled, tilting her hips to allow him deeper. Aria whimper as he hit a sensitive spot inside her. “Be a good girl. Tell me.” “My pussy’s yours. Only yours.” “Yeah.” He moaned, his head dipping to suck her shoulder and neck. “I own this kitten don’t I? I fuck it so good huh baby?” “Yesss.” “Yeah.” He moaned, pushing in as deep as possible before unloading inside her with frantic unsteady thrusts. “Sweetpea. Oh fucking  hell.” Pulling back to allow Aria to flip onto her back, he fell heavily on his stomach. Aria smoothed her hands up and down Jeffrey’s back and ribs, the man trembling from the strength of his release. “Goddamn woman.” He huffed, his words spoken into the pillow. “Never had it so good.” Aria’s laugh was husky, her voice raw from moaning and groaning. “Me neither.” She replied, stroking hair from his temple. “Never had most of this really.” “What do you mean?” Jeffrey asked, rolling onto his side to face her. “The last serious relationship I had was the guy I went to Europe with.” She replied nervously. “I mean I’ve had other boyfriends, I’m not a total weirdo, it’s just… nothing’s been like this. Like us.” “You saying we’re in a serious relationship?” Aria’s mouth opened but she seemed to choke on the words, her eyes shifting from his to the bed. Giving her a break, Jeffrey smiled slowly, his nose crinkled in amusement, “because I want to be.” Smirking, she playfully slapped his chest. “Jerk, you scared me.” “No reason to be scared babydoll.” He replied with a wink, “We want the same things, at least I think we do.” “I…” shaking her head, Aria rolled her eyes as though embarrassed by what she was about to say. Jeffrey froze at the thought that she might say those words that scrolled through his head, all those days ago. Clearing her throat, she continued while looking down at the mattress. Jeffrey’s throat tightened as she spoke, his mind racing trying to think of what he’d say in response. “I want us to be an us but I need something from you.” Cocking an eyebrow Jeffrey joked, “the truth comes out, she after my money.” Snorting, she tried to smack him but he caught her hand and pulld her against him. Holding her tiny hand in his, Jeffrey pressed it against his chest and spoke earnestly. “What do you need sweetheart? I’ll do my best to get you anything you need.” “I just… have this… fear and it obviously stems from my ex ditching me in a foreign country but… I’m scared you’ll change your mind. That maybe you aren’t feeling the way I am and that one day you’ll just… walk away.” Combing a hand through her hair to cup her head, Jeffrey tilted her face to meet his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m pretty sure I’m feeling exactly how you are and there’s not a chance in hell I’ll walk away from it. I won’t disappear on you.” Curling further into his chest, Aria tipped her face up and kissed him softly. “I care about you very much. I want… everything with you.” “Me too sweetheart. I hate being apart from you. When I’m gone all I think about is you. Normally something so distracting would piss me the fuck off but I… adore you.” “Yeah?” “Oh fucking yeah.” He replied gruffly, his thumb brushing across her flushed cheek. “I want you in my life sweetpea and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

Find Chapter fourteen Here:

http://jesbakescookies.tumblr.com/post/162747173451/too-hot-to-handle-chapter-fourteen

I started posting this fic over on AO3 also. I will probably post in both places since I’m still figuring out AO3 formatting etc.

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