#Fabric Roll Wrapping Machine

[jellyfishbug]

ROOM 109

pairing. matt x reader genre. smut with plot. MDNI.

! NOT proof read.

word count: [ 4.8k ]

content; brothersbestfriend!matt, natessister!reader, two people one bed trope, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected (wrap it!), creampie, lots of praise, some degradation, use of pet names for context, you & nate + the trips and their parents are on a trip to palm springs. after i finished writing it i realized i didnt make that 100% clear . . .

It was stupid. It was so stupid how this whole thing started.

Everyone else wanted to go to dinner directly after the beach, but you practically had to beg to quickly run up to your room and change. The white lacey sundress you'd been wearing wasn't exactly dinner attire, as well as the fact that it was covered in sand.

You scanned your room card on the doorknob and rushed inside, dropping your bag carelessly on the bed and turning to fiddle with the back of your dress. Several attempts of tugging at it later, you cry out in frustration at your zipper's refusal to budge, the metal completely stuck in place as your dug your nails into the fabric of the dress.

down the hallway, Nate was impatiently tapping his foot against the floor in exasperation, glancing over at the clock that hung above the vending machine. "Jesus christ, the fuck is she doing?"

Nick and Chris both shrugged, simply unbothered by the amount of time it was taking you. Matt, who was leaning against the wall his hands in his pockets, pursed his lips and glanced at Nate, his head still against the wall as he did. "D'you want me to go check on her?"

Nate nodded, "Yeah, n' tell her to hurry up, I'm fucking starving."

Matt rolls his eyes. "Okay, fine." He begins to head down the hallway, arms swaying at his sides before he pauses to look at Nate over his shoulder, "What room is she in?"

Nate thinks for a moment before hesitantly replying. "109.. i think,"

After ten minutes of you desperately attempting to get the dress off, you heard footsteps in the hallway, glancing down to the door to see the shadow of a tall figure. On the other side, Matt pressed two knuckles to the door and knocked gently, leaning his side against it as he spoke, "You alright in there?"

You swallowed, your face felt hot from embarrassment. You close your eyes and knock your head back, trying to shift the tone of your voice from how upset you were. "Uhm- yeah, just.. my zipper's stuck."

"Your zipper, huh?" He laughs lightly, the image of you struggling to get the dress off clear in his mind. "You can't get it unstuck?"

"No," you mumble. "It's on the back of the dress, so I can't see it."

He's quiet for a moment before responding. You watch his figure shuffle around under the door, "D'you need help?"

Your shoulders drop in defeat, balled fists resting at your sides as you huff, "please."

Matt exhales deeply, placing his hand on the doorknob. "You decent? like- can i come in?" he asks, his voice raspier than it usually was.

"Yeah,"

He turns the knob and opens the door slowly, closing it behind him as he approaches you, taking in the view with a small smile tugging at his lips. You turn away from him, lifting your hair off your neck to make it easier for him to unzip the dress.

He swallows and leans forward, directly behind you as his hands reach up to where your zipper is stuck. Goosebumps form at the feel of his hand grazing the exposed skin of your neck. "D'you see? It won't budge,"

"Yeah, I see," he says quietly, hands still frozen in place as he furrows his eyebrows. His hand wraps around the small zipper whilst the other lands on your hip, "I'm gonna try something, just- stay still for a sec, okay?"

You nod slowly, quietly gasping as he pulls you slightly closer to him, feeling his breath fanning against your neck. His fingers curl around the zipper once more, tugging at it.

He slowly draws the zipper down, the cold feel of the metal gliding over your skin, exposing your back inch by inch. His touch is delicate, almost feather-light against you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you let your hands drop to your sides. You want to say something, but nothing will come out. Matt's breath is also labored, his eyes studying the newly exposed skin of your back. "Looks like I got it," he mumbles.

"Mhm." You mutter, basking in the feel of his hands on your lower back as the zipper reaches the end of the spined teeth, and Matt lets go of it. One of is hands still on your hip as he presses circles into your back with his ringed fingers.

"Matt.." you whisper, but nothing else comes out. Your sentence is left unfinished as you step backward slightly so that you're closer to him.

Matt swallows, trying to remain calm and collected as your back is pressed against his chest. He responds, his voice matching your volume, "Yeah?"

"I have to-" you screw your eyes shut, shivering when you feel him trail fingers up your spine mindlessly. "Someones gonna come looking for us, we've been up here for a while- and I have to change."

Disappointment washes over him as his hand falls away from your back. You're right- he knows you're right, but he doesn't want to move. "Okay- yeah, I'll let you change," he says quietly, backing away as your frames detatch. "Do you want me to wait for you by the door?"

You shake your head silently before parting your lips to speak. "It's okay, I'll be down in a minute." you reply, waiting patiently to let the dress drop off your shoulders as Matt acknowledges your response with a nod of his head as he opens the door, letting it click shut behind him. You watch his shadow disappear from under the door, footsteps slowly getting quieter as he disappears down the hallway.

You slipped into a smaller, black spaghetti-strap dress, hurriedly grabbing your belongings before swinging the door open and letting it close loudly behind you.

You run down the hallway, quickly tip-toeing down the carpeted stairs as you lift your head, and your eyes meet the familiar group of boys standing by the vending machines, all looking defeated and bored. Nick glances over upon seeing you, grinning widely as he throws his hands up in enthusiasm.

"Finally! Christ, i thought we'd starve to death. Lets fucking go,"

Dinner was torture.

Matt sat directly across from you at the table. You shared glances every now and then, feeling your stomach lurch at the sight of his hair messily hanging in his face, his pearly teeth peaking through his lips as he cracked a smile in response to Nate's joke. The candles on the table flickered, illuminating his features even more as he mindlessly chewed on his bottom lip.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest lazily, raising his eyebrows at you every time your eyes met. The eye roll he got back from you made him laugh lowly, his tongue prodding at the side of his cheek as his lips broke into a grin.

At some point, Nate and Chris were laughing and muttering amongst themselves like children, both pouting dramatically as they turn to look at Matt. Matt furrows his eyebrows nervously, tilting his head as he reluctantly asks, "What?"

Nate dropped his utensils dramatically against his plate, the clanking causing both you and Matt to grimace in distaste. "You know you're like, my favorite person ever, right?" Nate said all to sweetly, a glint in his eyes you'd only ever seen him use when asking for something he really wants.

Matt all but scowled, his eyebrows raised with an unimpressed look. "What d'you want?"

"Will you swap rooms with me so Chris and I can share? I'm sick of sharing a room with this loser," Nate pointed his thumb in your direction in emphasis, his other hand still resting in his lap. You scoffed, slapping his hand away and crossing your arms at your front with a sour expression. "You're not exactly my ideal choice either, fuck face."

Nate pushed his lip out into an even deeper pout at Matt, ignoring the slap and insult from you to further beg, "Pleaaaase?"

Matt turned his head to look to you.

"'S that okay with you?"

His tone was genuine, waiting patiently for you to tell him your input after Nate's careless disregard of it. You feel the blood rush to your face, realizing now that everyone's eyes were on you, but Matt's gaze in particular made your mouth go dry. You nodded slowly. "Yeah- that's fine."

He nodded before looking away and shrugging at Nate with his lips in a downturned smile. "I'm fine with it if she's fine with it."

Nate smiles widely, he and Chris sharing an excited glance and giggling amongst themselves. Matt picks up his drink from the table, looking at you through his eyebrows and he sips.

The tension was thick enough to be cut, and it was driving you crazy.

Every glance, every wink, every fucking smile.

He seemed completely unbothered at your clearly flustered demeanor, just laughing breathily every time he caught a glance. The thoughts in his mind betrayed him; if everyone at that table could hear them, Nate would've killed him by now.

Finally, after what felt like ever, the five of you started to head back to the hotel. You opted to linger behind the four boys, just by a couple feet - still close enough you could hear their conversation, but far enough that you didn't have to partake in whatever stupid thing they were bickering about.

Occasionally, Matt would glance back to look at you, as if he was checking to see if you were still there. You pretend not to notice, but every time you catch his eyes, you feel yourself try to look away, but you can't. You're completely locked on him and he's holding the key - he's taunting you with it.

You eventually reach the doors of the hotel, rolling your eyes playfully as Matt lingers behind the others to hold the door open for you.

You stop at the boys room first. Nate turns to Matt and places his hands on either side of his face, giving him a big kiss on the cheek and grinning stupidly whilst Matt's eyes widened in surprise. "I love youuuuu," he drags on, smooshing Matt's face with his hands. Matt bats them away.

"Yeah yeah, love you too, kid." He mutters, wiping the spit off his face with a scowl once Nate finally detatched. Nate throws up a peace sign at you before disappearing into the room. Matt bids his brothers goodnight, and the two of you begin to head towards the your room.

You reach the door and pause to fiddle in your bag before pulling out the room key, choosing to ignore how close behind you Matt is standing. He stands with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the door frame as he observes your movements. You scan the key against the door and push it open.

Matt reached above you to hold the door open, and you drop your bag on the entry-way table and kick off your shoes.

Matt closes the door behind the two of you and follows as you lean down in front of the vanity to take off your earings. Matt kicks off his shoes, and once your earings are safely on the desk, you flop down onto the bed without even changing out of your dress. You rolled over on to your back and pull out your phone.

Matt chuckles at the action, and then pauses to think, his eyes filled with wonder at the sight of the one bed. "I can take the floor,"

You almost roll your eyes, shaking your head vigorously as a laugh escapes you. "Don't be stupid, you can sleep in the bed, Matt."

He nods, his lips shifting upward into a smile as he walks up to the bed, laying down next to you. He also pulls out his phone from his back pocket and rolls onto his stomach, and you both sit in silence for a couple of minutes before you finally glance over.

He's really good looking.

It's stupid; its fucking stupid how good looking he is.

The dimness of the overhead light makes it harder to see, but the glow of his phone screen is bright enough that you can see his jawline. His hair is still slightly hanging in his face, and even when he runs a hand through it, it remains where it was before. The occasional laugh at something on his phone showcases his annoyingly hot grin, and the low sound of his laugh.

You didn't even realize you were staring. In fact, you were staring for a decent amount of time before he turned to face you, a smug smile on his face.

Fuck.

Embarassed, your head snaps back to your phone and heat rises to your face, making it flush a bright shade of pink. Matt doesn't say anything - but you know he's smirking at you.

"You good?" He asks, a teasing tone in his voice as his eyes continue to linger on you. The way he said it was so smug. He enjoyed having this affect on you.

You nod quickly, and he laughs. "You sure? You're all red,"

"No m' not." You bite back, your voice still quiet. "I'm fine."

He raises his eyebrows with an amused expression.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart."

The tone of his voice, as well as how easy the pet name rolled of his tongue was making a fire egnite in your core, and you cross one of your legs over the other.

Matt sets his phone down on the bed, completely abandoning the one thing that was keeping the safe silence. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, head leaning back against the headboard of the bed. "What's your deal?"

The question took you by surprise. What was your deal? Coming from the guy that was eye-fucking you in front of your brother and his at the dinner table an hour ago?

You scoff, an exasperated huff of air as you turn to glare at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You won't look me in the eye- like, at all - and when you do, your face gets all red and you wont talk. Whats your deal?"

His forwardness isn't appreaciated. You purse your lips, finally letting yourself continue to look at him, even if the eye contact is burning through you. "I'm looking at you now, aren't i?"

"Mhm," he says calmly. "And you're red again."

His acknowledgment of it only makes it worse. Your stomach flips and turns as the realization seeps through you, and you try your best to keep your expression hard and stern. "So what?"

He shrugs. "It's cute."

Cute.

You find yoursef rolling your eyes for the millionth time today, "You're annoying."

He moves closer, his movements making imprints on the bed sheets as he shamelessly lets your shoulders touch. "Why? Because i make you flustered?"

"I'm not-"

"You are."

You find yourself closing your lips despite the urge to utter out a snarky response, the heat of his breath fanning against your face as your chest rises and falls quickly. Everything else is completely lost - the fact that he's your brothers friend. The fact that if Nate knew about this, Matt would be on the floor taking his last breath.

Right now, all you were thinking about was how pretty he was, how pink his lips were, how much you really, really wanted to kiss him, even if you would regret it.

"You're staring again," he says, more quiet this time; almost a whisper, but his tone is still arrogant.

"Just- shut up, Matt." You say breathlessly.

His glance flicks between your lips and eyes, lust clearly displayed in his own eyes as he licks his bottom lip. "Can i..?"

You're nodding before he's even finished the sentence.

He leans forward and presses your lips together. It's soft; passionate. Your hand goes up to rest at his cheek, and his at yours. His touch is delicate, even as the movements of his mouth become deeper, his tongue sliding over your lips to colide with yours.

His other hand snakes around your waist, tugging you effortlessly into his lap to straddle his thighs, laughing against your lips when you yelp at the sudden change in position.

Both of his hands are wrapped tightly around you now, holding you close enough to press your frams together as your hands get lost in his hair. He's kissing you harder, more desperate and hungry, like he's been starved.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel him growing beneath you, and you'd also be lying if you said you weren't alarmed by his size. You find one of your hands slipping off of his face to tug at the buckle of his jeans, whining against him when he grabs your wrist to halt your movements.

He pulls away from you, chuckling softly. "D'you want something?"

Your wrist is still firm in his grip, and as much as you just want to whine and squirm until he lets go, you get the feeling he's not planning on doing so until you answer.

"You, please- Matt, i need you." You say breathlessly, feeling satisfied when he releases your wrist, his hands moving to roam up and down your sides.

"Good girl," He mutters before kissing you once more, keeping your lips locked as he puts a hand on your back to tug at the zipper on your dress quickly until the back is fully open. He lays you down gently until your back meets the matress, his kisses still rough as he lightly bites down on your bottom lip, grinning when you whimper into his mouth.

He pulls away to look down at you, kneeling against you so that your legs are on either side of him. He keeps one hand on your upper thigh, rubbing his thumb gently against your skin as he parts his lips to speak. "can I take your dress off?"

All it takes is a hushed "please," from you, and he springs into movement. "lift your arms f'me," he utters lowly, and as you comply, he pulls the dress down until its completely off, discarding it onto the floor. He looks back to gawk at you, "So pretty,"

You feel your face get red again, but before you can respond, he's leaning down to kiss you. He trails his kisses down your front, looking up at your blissed expression when his lips are on your lower stomach. His fingers dip underneath them of your underwear, tuggling effortlessly and discarding them on to the floor next to your dress. He fiddles with the buttons on his shirt with his other hand until its loose enough to pull off, and then on the bed forgotten.

He places his index finger against your lip, tapping lightly. "open for me, sweetheart."

You do just that, and he places two of his fingers in your mouth. You close your lips around them, swirling your tongue around the digits as Matt watches with dilated pupils. He pulls them away and lowers himself so that his face is hovering above your heat, eyes flicking up to watch your impatient expression with a smug grin

He presses his fingers into your entrace, and your jaw goes slack, head falling back against the mattress as you whine. "Fuck,"

He keeps his hand still, pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, then your core, before finally placing his mouth where you want it.

His slow and messy with his movements, tongue lapping at your clit as he curls his motionless fingers inside of you. You're moaning and whimpering his name, pleading for more, but he's taking his time.

He lifts his head, finally starting to pump his fingers at a good rythm, clearly enjoying how much you're reacting to him. "Feel good, baby?"

You're whimpering, nodding quickly, but your expression turns confused when he stops. "Tell me, sweet girl. I wanna hear how good it is,"

"So good," you breathe out. "Fuck, Matt- please, i wan' more."

Satisfaction is smugly clear on his face. "Thats a good girl," he wraps his free hand around your thigh, cold rings pressing against your skin, lowering his head back where it was before.

He's even meaner now. His fingers are vigorously thrusting into you, and his tuck is mercilessly hooked on your clit as your eyes roll back in your head and your thighs lightly shake on either side of him. You tug at his hair, letting out a wail as he groans against you, nails digging into his scalp.

"shit, do that again." He says quickly, his voice muffled as he continues. You do what he asks, feeling the same groaning sensation against you when you do, making your toes girl. His face is slick with you, and he lifts his head for just a second again, "tastes so good, fuck,"

The compliment makes the growing knot in your stomach twist, and you moan loudly as he speeds up his movements, nails tigging into the plush skin of your thigh.

You finally snap as his fingers curl against a particular spot, your thighs squeeze around his head and you attempt to arch your back, but his grip on your leg holds you in place against the mattress.

Desperate cry's of his name flood from your lips, and he lifts his mouth off of you, still pumping his fingers slowly through your orgasm whilst kissing your thighs. He whispers soft praise as he watches you writhing against his hand.

Finally, once you start to squirm, he pulls them out and licks them clean. Your hand covers your face as you attempt to bring your breathing back to normal, and his hand rests on your waist as he rubs circles soothingly into the flesh with his thumb. "Doing so good for me, sweetheart."

The praise fills your chest with a warm feeling, and he leans down to kiss the side of your head. His fingers wrap around his belt buckle until its unclipped and he tugs his jeans down to his ankles, leaving him in just his boxers.

You see the bulge clearly in them, and you gawk at the sight. He's huge. How the fuck will that fit?

He must've seen the nervous expression on your face, because he smiles and nods his head. "S'okay, I'll go slow."

He slides a hand underneath you to wrap around your waist and flip you onto your stomach. His fingers then wrap around your thighs to pull your ass up before pressing lightly against your lower back to make it arch.

Your arms are outstretched in front of you, the pads of your fingers laying against the sheets while Matt loiters on his knees behind you. An impatience is quickly growing in your gut. He's taking his sweet time admiring you from the new angle, one hand on your hip with a gentle grip as he palmed himself through his underwear.

You were not having it.

"Matt- please,"

He laughs lightly at the whiny plea that escaped you, the hand on your hip flying to assist his movement in removing his boxers. "Okay, okay. Hold on," He leans closer to you, his tip prodding at your entrance, and you brace yourself.

He slowly presses inside of you, watching as you grip the sheets below you at the painful stretch. You whimper, and he hums, rubbing his fingers soothingly on your hip, "I know, baby. I know." He says quietly right as his hips meet your ass, finally burying himself to the hilt.

The feeling of him filling you up completely is maddening. He inhales deeply through his teeth, muttering curses at how tightly you're squeezing around him.

He's still not moving. He's concerned at how much you're already reacting, but his demeanor changes when you're wiggling yourself against him as an attempt to get him to move, and he complies, starting to roll his hips slowly.

"Oh my god," you whisper, the stretch turning from painful to pleasant all too quickly. Your toes curl as Matt starts to go faster. "Fit s'well inside me- fuck, Matt."

He laughs lowly, "Yeah?" his tone his still so fucking arrogant despite how breathy he is, and he grunts lowly when he realizes you're pushing yourself back against him. "Such a filthy girl," he spit, "God, just like that. So good n' needy f'me."

His words only make you want more. He's pressing his palm against your back to push you down into the bed further and deepen the arch, which only makes it easier for him to fuck you deeper.

You're mewling now, nails desperately grasping at the sheets as he hits unfamiliar spots, making your eyes roll back into your head. It's all too much - it's all too good.

The lewd sound of skin meeting skin is filling the room, along with Matt's groans and your desperate whimpering. You feel the strong, confident attitude you carry around your peers start to crumble underneath him as he leans down, slamming at a ruthless pase.

You cry out a gutless moan when his hand wraps around your lower front to make his thrusts deeper, and he grunts at the way you tighten around him. "Yeah? that feel good, baby?" He asks as if the answer isn't evident, "Taking me so good- fuck, good girl."

Normally, praise wouldn't be affecting you this much; but the way it rolled so easily off his tongue, the way his tone was raspy and genuine, like he meant it, and the way that he was saying it with his chest whilst he was buried deep in your guts made you love it. It made you want to hear it even more.

You're a whimpering, moaning mess below your brother's best friend, keening as his grip on your hips turning animalistic, nails digging bluntly into your flesh. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

"Matt-" you panted, the pleasure in your stomach twisting and turning with every thrust against your sweet spot, "Matt- fuck, m' gonna cum."

"Yeah?" he breathes. "Go ahead, cum for me sweetheart."

As soon as the words left him, you unraveled, legs shaking violently against him as your messy attempts to meet his thrusts stop and you practically go limp.

Your mind is numb from pleasure, the white knuckle grip on the sheets becoming less strong while your eyes roll back in your head, overstimulated as Matt still pounds into you to chase his high.

"Close," he chokes out behind you, his thrusts becoming more messy as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you up slightly, your back still arched. "Fuck, where do you want me?"

Even in your dumb state, you manage to utter out a response, "inside me, please."

He leans down to dig his teeth into the small of your neck and presses himself to the hilt, spilling thick spurts deep into your core as he mutters muffled curses against your neck. You melt from the warm feeling of him in your gut, your hand snaking up to wrap around the back of his neck to touch his hair.

You're both still panting as he presses kisses along your neck and over the faint bite mark he left, slowly laying you back down against the warmth of the mattress. He holds you in place and pulls out slowly, whispering apologies when you wince at the soreness and emptiness that follows.

He tucks your hair behind your ear with his finger, still pressing gentle kisses along your skin; cheek, neck, shoulder, hip - before he speaks. "You okay?"

You nod, "mhm, just... sore."

He nods sympathetically, still touching your face. "I know, sweetheart." He turns you so youre lying on your back. "We can go shower and get cleaned up, but you gotta get up first."

The thought of the warm water makes you sit up, and Matt grins at how quickly you do so. He takes your hand in his and guides you to the bathroom.

You watch from your spot on the counter as he leans into the glass door of the shower to turn the water on, feeling with his hand under the stream to test tje temperature, throwing you a satisfied nod when it became warm enough.

It wasn't until you were both under the warm, cozy flow of the faucet with suds coving both of your wet slick skin that you turned around to face him, a knowing look in your eyes. "Matt?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Hm?"

"If you tell Nate about any of this-"

He grimaces at the thought. "c'mon, kid. I'm not a dumbass." He laughs, and you're both left to forget about the future, and instead focus on the now.

The now being the fact that this wasn't going to be the last time this happened. Definitely not.

thank u for reading! i hope you enjoyed. throw me a reblog if you did, they are greatly appreciated :)

links ..

masterlists !

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC X DP Fic idea: Retired-Rouge.

Danny gets into making teddy bears. He didn't start that way; honestly, he was mostly trying to fix Bearbert Einstein after his mom accidentally burnt him with a misfired ray gun.

Jazz had broken down into tears, and it had ripped apart his heart and his core to see her so distressed. He went to the local- and only- fabric store in Amity Park to find materials and try to repair his sister's beloved teddy bear when his mom's attempts to fix the bear only made him look worse.

Just his luck that the only fabric shop for miles around was Weston Fabrics and that the person manning the cashier was Wes himself. The other boy had nearly thrown him out when Danny walked in, but thankfully his older brother Kyle had talked Wes down and helped Danny find fabrics for Bearbert.

Surprisingly, Wes had even helped him set up one of their sewing stations to get started on Bearbert.

The strange part was when Danny turned the machine on and found his hands moving independently. As if he had been doing it for years, he expertly put together the bear and even went through the other fabrics to make him new outfits. Wes had watched the whole time, raising a brow when Danny got up to pay.

"Thought you didn't know how to sew?"

"I thought so too. Must be a ghost thing." Danny replied then smirked as the redhead glared.

"A ghost thing?" Wes all but sneers. He still trying to expose Danny as Phantom and had yet to get proof, even with Danny teasing him in the open. As it were, Kyle, who was unpacking new needles rolled his eyes behind the red hair teenager.

"Yeah, since I have a protection core as Phantom, it sometimes transfers into my human side. Do you know how teddy bears guard children at night against bad dreams? Same thing"

Wes pauses, then slowly blinks; he whispers with a small baffled smile, "That's kind of adorable. A teddy bear to keep you safe through the night."

And Danny? He didn't mean to, but he found Wes sort of hot at that moment. Not the Wow, that guy is a celebrity hot but a Be careful who you call ugly in middle school because Puberty made them delicious over the summer break hot.

He will admit that he returned to Weston Fabrics to flirt more with Wes and made so many teddy bears as a disguise. The good news was that all his works were a hit, and even some kids at school started asking for special commissions when word got around about the special Nightmerica teddy bear he made for Sam's birthday.

He makes money, gets a boyfriend, and when he donates the teddy bears to a local hospital, he discovers a new power. Through items he made himself, Danny can send waves of comforting energy to the people around the item, like a miniature zen distributor. The patients that have his toys start to show greater rest from both nightmares and lower anxiety, depression, and general sadness.

He lets Wes name this power, which later becomes the name of his teddy bear business- Phantom Relief. After dating for two years and graduating, both boys agree the spark had been lost but remain good friends. Danny takes his thriving teddy bear-making skills to his new college in Gotham while Wes leaves for Star City.

In Gotham is where things get....stranger. See, Danny knows someone new to the city will never truly understand a city's problems. But the rapid amount of homeless kids is so shocking he starts making clothes and blankets to try and give them out because they shouldn't be out there freezing like that! He even tries passing along some teddy bears to them, hoping to soothe their pain with some Zen waves.

The key word is tries.

Gotham kids do not trust or like free handouts. Danny burst into tears when a thirteen-year-old asked if he wanted the kid to use his hand or mouth in exchange for the new blanket. The street kid seemed surprised when Danny was horrified by the question. No one else found it strange, the kid said, wrapped in a Superman blanket that Danny made only a day before, it's just how things are done around here.

The worst part is the homeless thirteen-year-old is right. Everywhere he looks, Danny finds more people needing protection- physically, emotionally, and mentally. Gotham is just filled with people suffering. He couldn't keep up. It's tearing him apart trying to help everyone.

His core feels like it will burst from all the overloaded cries of help it can pick up. One night Danny can't take it anymore, so he shifts into Phantom and flies out to the old Drake manner, abandoned since Janet Drake's murder, where the cries are muffled, and dials Wes' number with shaking hands.

His ex picks up listens to his sobs and tells him "You can't save people who don't want to be saved. But you can try to reach them in a way they understand."

It's precisely what he needs to hear.

Ancients, but he misses the man sometimes. Why did Danny ever let Wes Weston go? Well, as they say, Right person, wrong time. Maybe that was why.

So Danny decided the only way to get to Gotham was to be like Gotham. And who were the people that dramatically changed the city with every random plot? With every random heist?

Gotham Rogues.

So all Phantom had to do was become one, which shouldn't be too hard since people in Amity Park still debated if he was good or not years later. He fixes up his Phantom suit to something more Gotham villain, keeping the colors but removing the jumpsuit and adding a suit and vest alongside a mask and two giant needles.

He appears in Crime Alley- because that's where the most cries come from- and just challenges everything and everyone to take the area from him. He fights off so many gangs- even Red Hood, who puts up a great fight- but after the dust settles, he now runs the place.

He then starts- fixing the place. Starts sending out clothes for the homeless, starts fixing up buildings, gives Phantom Reflief out-teddy bears to kids, fake emulates to adults, starts sending the gang kids back to school, forces landlords to lower the housing, and illegally makes everyone get along.

He spreads his tyranny to the rest of the city, fighting the good and bad sides of the law. The bats give him one hell of a challenge, but Danny beat the Ghost King when he was an untrained brat. This is nothing. Batman gets better with every fight, and so do his associates.

Things look good until the Joker tries him too much when the clown somehow gets to Wes. Has the love of his life tied to a bomb with enough Joker Venom to fill half the city, and Danny sees red.

When he comes to, it's to Wes holding him in his arms, whispering reassurances, and Joker nothing but a smear on the ground. Danny can't live with what he's done; he runs away, shifts into his human side, and vows to never be Phantom again.

After four years of peace due to Phantom's hostile takeover, Gotham mourns the loss but doesn't fall into so much crime now that the ghost crime lord is gone. Danny thinks he's done his job and chooses to melt into the background. He opens a little shop for fabrics and custom-made teddy bears.

Wes finds him, agrees to try and rekindle their love, and a year later agrees to the marriage.

All is well until seventeen-year-old Tim Drake strolls into his fabric shop. Clutching a superboy teddy bear, he gave a shivering fourteen-year-old the first week as Phantom Gotham Villain with a stern look in his eye.

"Phantom- I need you to help me find Batman, who is lost in time, or I will expose your secret identity to the rest of Gotham."

Well, shit.

[amostimprobabledream]

The Sweetest Violence (Homelander x Reader)

Just a lil drabble, also available on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57696463

"Sssh..." Blood. So much blood. The fetid stink of it is everywhere. It fills up your nostrils and chokes up your senses. It's thick and sticky in your hair, hot and drying in stiff patches on your skin. You feel like you could take a hundred showers, soak in the bath for hours and hours and it still wouldn't get rid of the sensation of blood clinging to your flesh. Homelander doesn't seem to notice or care about the blood. He carries you easily, clasped to is chest, his own face splashed with blood, dark patches of it staining his blonde hair. The brilliant blue of his eyes seems to burn through a streaky veil of scarlet, made all the more vivid by the contrast. "It's all right," he whispers to you as he walks, his soothing tone at odds with the gore-soaked state of him. "It's okay now. Ssh. You must've been scared, huh?" Yes. You were. The people who took you saw you as nothing more than an object, a tool with which they could use against Homelander. You could tell by the impersonal way they handled you, the way they barley looked at you and didn't bat an eyelid at your screams and shouts. That scared you more than anything, the dead, cold looks in their eyes, like you were trying to communicate with machines, not people. If they could be so indifferent to your fear and confusion, what would they care about doing more permanent damage?

So, when you heard it - the rush of air and signature boom of one of Homelander's signature landings, those dramatic superhero drops that signify I am here, it was like divine intervention. The relief that hit you was like no high you'd ever experienced before, the way you imagine a shipwreck survivor must feel when they finally see the boat that's come to save them after being stranded in the brutal, unforgiving seas. That was, until Homelander got to work. Bodies. Ripped apart like paper. Heads not rolling but exploding like watermelons struck by a bat. Unholy shrieks of horror and agony drowned out in wet gurgles of blood. Eyes shining like warning lights in the gloom - inhuman, like a monster from a nightmare. You could only curl up as best you could and close your eyes to the carnage, a sob tangled in your throat, but you couldn't quite drown out the screaming and your imagination supplied you plenty of images that rivalled the horror of what was happening.

When Homelander calmly melted the chains on you and hoisted you up into his arms, you briefly wondered if you were about to die too - even though he'd come to rescue you. Your mind  is in a haze -a long time ago, somebody had explained to you the difference between horror and terror, and you felt it keenly now. You're not screaming or thrashing to escape, or outwardly freaking out at all. Instead, you feel like you've been plunged into a pool of still, frigid water and simply wait under the surface, unwilling to expend any energy into swimming up to the surface and peering out at whatever may lay above. You retreat into numbness, curiously swamped with cold despite how hot Homelander is. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his suit, your breath coming out in sharp little pants. Homelander can hear the frantic pounding of your heart and how you breathe like there isn't enough air, but he assumes that it's from the fear of being kidnapped, of men in dark clothes and with dead eyes. It probably hasn't even crossed your mind that the one who has driven you to this heightened state of fear is him. And you don't want him to think it, so you nuzzle deeper into him, you can't seem to stop hyperventilating no matter how you try. "S'okay," Homelander shushes you, misunderstanding your trembling, a gloved hand petting your hair like he's trying to soothe a skittish animal. He's so monstrously strong he can hold you, a grown woman, easily to his body with just one arm, and you automatically wrap your legs around him, a gesture you've done many times before, but never in this context. He's being so gentle with you that it's hard to believe you just witnessed a man being torn in half by Homelander's bare hands. "You're safe. I've got you." Yes, he does. You're locked in his powerful embrace like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. You bury your face in his chest to hide your expression as well as seeking comfort - it seems perverse to look for it from a man soaked in blood, but what else can you do? You let yourself be lulled into a calmer state, his warmth seeping into you and the slow, rhythmic motions of his hand in your hair weirdly comforting.

But you don't miss the gravel, the hint of threat in his voice when he speaks again. You know it's not directed at you, not his sweetheart, but you still feel a shiver lick down your spine as he speaks; "No one will ever take you away from me."

[heartelysia]

rich flex

"can you hit a lil' rich flex for me" ; in which you're nothing more than roommates

cw ; ooc leon, jealousy, panty stealing, panty sniffing, college au, re2 leon, use of sex toys, masturbation, creepy behaviour from leon

note ; this is also reposted from my ao3! college roommates au :3 [m.list] (i lovd leon n his little butt chin sm in re2 😭😭 its so cutw wtf) AND YES! THAT IS MANGA LEON KENNEDY!! ILLVE HM!!

she was the moon and he was the sun, polar opposites. she was closed off and reserved whilst the blonde wasn't much of an extrovert per say but compared to her, he shined much brighter.

people loved him and everything he had to offer but on her end, people would still ask, 'who is that?'. that was one of the many results of only choosing to attend night lectures or acting like a complete ghost during the semester.

she knocks on leon's door - if the crappy wood with a knob could be considered one - holding a half-full laundry basket in her other hand. a few moments pass, shuffling and the rolling of one of those wheelie chairs are heard through the thin walls. the door creeks open as a little bit of sunlight spill from the window in his room.

"oh hey y/n, whats up?", his soft, boyish voice rings throughout the hallway, his cheeks flushed a bright pink colour as his breath is bated with each second. you gesture to the laundry basket in your hand, holding onto your quiet demeanour. leon's eyes follows your movements before suddenly lighting up. "oh yes! it is my turn this week, thank you y/n!", he softly beams, fully opening the door as he grabs the basket from you and places it beside his stack of clothes.

you give the boy a simple hum before turning on your heel, heading back into your little man woman-cave. leons gaze lingers on you, watching the way you dragged yourself back into your cramped room. sometimes he wished he could hear your sweet voice more but we can't have everything we want right?

leon glances back into his room, glazing his eyes over each neat cabinet and organized stack of books before they land on the new addition of laundry. he hoped he didn't seem too off when speaking to you, after all, he still gets nervous around you despite being roommates. the blonde quickly brushes the thoughts out of his head as he grabs his pile of dirty clothes and dumps it onto your laundry, filling the basket to the brim before picking the heavy luggage up and waddling out of his room.

the sound of his footsteps reverberate against the crappy wooden planks as he awkwardly stumbles to the tiny laundry room. leon hooks his fingers under the lid, lifting it up as a scent of detergent pods hit his face. he quickly grabs the full laundry basket before tipping its contents into the washer before placing the empty basket back onto the floor.

he opens up one of the cabinets on top and grabs the detergent pods, popping one into its place. as leon is about to close the top and start the machine, something catches his eye, a frilly white pair of underwear. the blondes cheeks light up in embarrassment yet the familiar coil in his stomach grows as he feels his cock stir at the thought of your panties wrapped around his thick length.

leon swallows the lump in his throat, gulping as his eyes stay glued onto your undergarment. it was a morality debate in his head, he could either steal your panties or he would not. he gulps one last time before reaching his hand in and snatching the used underwear up, he scrunches the soft material up and shoves it into his pocket.

a small wave of guilt crashes into him but he brushes it off, closing the lid before turning on the washer, the water spilling from its sides as it dampens the fabrics. he places his hand into his pocket, clutching your panties in his hand as his breathing becomes ragged and his mind swirls with lewd fantasies of you.

a whine rumbles in his throat as the sound of your voice note plays in his headphones. with his cheeks flushed, ragged breathing and a fleshlight pumping up and down his length, his soft groans and moans fill the air. leon's leaky tip beads with precum as he replays the same voicemail you left him, stroking his fat cock up and down with the fake pussy.

leon suddenly pauses, he quickly reaches over under his pillow and grabs newly stolen pair of panties. his cock twitches once more, the knot in his stomach threatening to come undone from the thought of sniffing his beloved roommates used panties. he shoves the underwear into his nose, grunting gutturally at the scent of her, stroking his cock just a bit faster now. "f-fuck... you smell so good...", he moans, rutting his hips into the fleshlight as he takes a big whiff of her.

sure, the blonde feels somewhat bad... but he couldnt find his morality in him as of now, not when her delicious panties were pressed up against his nose. with each pump, his angry, swollen tip leaks more and more precum, the fleshlight picking the precum up and using it as lube, only adding to the fiery sensation leon is experiencing.

the knot in his stomach only gets tighter, ready to snap in half as the sound of your cold voice echoes in his ears. "oh fuck- fuck baby... sweetheart...", he grunts, bucking his hips uncontrollably into the fake pussy, wishing it was your sweet cunt he was pounding into. leon wondered to himself, would your pussy be wetter? would you moan uncontrollably as he jackhammers his cock into you? or would you be restraining your moans and making him fuck you till it finally spills out? it didn't exactly matter to the boy as his cock was speaking for him.

with one last final pump, his thick warm cum spills from his fat tip, followed by a series of depraved moans as he desperately grinds into the fake pussy, circling his hips as shots of thick cum come spurting out of his cock.

as he slowly calms down, gently pulling the fleshlight away from him, his ears perk up. a noise that didn't sound like it was from the voice message or one he made. maybe he was insane, maybe it was just him riding down from his high but he swore he heard a soft moan from the other side of the wall, the walls were thin... it could be him imagining things, after all, he still had his headphones on.

he really didn't like it, but what was he meant to do? she wasn't interested in him - at least to his knowledge. the blonde stares at the curly haired male following her from a distance as a look of hesitance was on the mans face.

"y/n?", the mans voice rung loudly, catching a few glances from passer-bys. the girl stops in her tracks, one hand resting on the strap of her shoulder bag, she turns on her heel to face the man. "carlos, what is it?", she softly asks, her voice hardly above a whisper but still rather blunt. the latin american grinned, handing y/n a few pieces of paper stapled together.

"its the draft i did really quickly, since I still dont have your number, i wrote mine on it so text me your thoughts about it.", carlos said, flashing the girl a charming smile. y/n simply hums as she takes the drafts from him, placing it in her bag as she holds the blank expression and mutters a small thank you. despite her lack of physical reaction, carlos seemed to light up a little more as he brings her into an awkward hug of gratitude.

when she pulls away, carlos seemed to look a bit more shyer than before as his cheeks were softly dusted with a gentle pink hue that doesn't go unnoticed by leon.

with his attention away from the lecture, the blonde clenches his jaw in frustration. she was merely a roommate, why did he care so much anyway. leon softly huffs to himself before turning away from y/n and carlos' small interaction and tries to focus back onto the lecture... keyword, tries.

as y/n returns from her lectures, the shared housing space is oddly quiet. leon would typically be cooking something up or playing music in the background. subconsciously, the girl had gotten so used to her roommates habits and routines, it felt weird and wrong without leon's presence made known to her.

despite the fact that they were polar opposites, she found comfort knowing leon was home but the fact that not a single squeak is heard unless it was from made her stomach twist.

"leon?"

her soft voice bounces off of the flimsy walls of the room, the sound of her voice actually audible unlike the multiple times she simply hummed in replacement of speaking. no reply, y/n softly sighs to herself as she drags her feet towards her cramped room, kicking her shoes off.

the girl enters her tiny room, throwing her heavy shoulder bag onto her chair as she slumps down against her bed, eyes closing from exhaustion. small grumbles and groans escape her throat as she rubs her eyes, expressing her distaste for the lengthy project.

she was too lost in her own train of thought that she suddenly jumped at the noise of someone knocking at her room door. when did leon get home?

"y/n, i got us takeout tonight, i hope you don't mind.", leons bashful voice leaks past the door, y/ns ears catching onto the sound of plastic rustling in his hand as she cracks open her door. peering at the handsome man through the obvious crack emits a soft chuckle from the blonde as he just lifts the plastic bags up, flashing y/n a glimpse of the food.

a waft of the scent of delicious chinese takeout has her fully opening her door, following leon close behind like a puppy into the kitchen. leon laughs at the way she gives into food so easily, a big grin tugging at his lips as he places the bag onto the counter. "you dislike my cooking this much?", he queries, taking out the containers one by one whilst staring at his roommate snatching the bamboo utensils from the bottom.

y/n shakes her head at his response, keeping her lips sealed. the blonde softly laughs before opening the food up, the smell of stomach-filling chinese cuisines filled their nose. "smells nice... good selection leon...", she softly mumbles, trying to hide the fact that her mouth was watering. red covers leons cheek as he sheepishly laughs it off, feeling the knot in his stomach once more at her praise, "really? uhm-... well time to dig in!".

y/n softly hums in response as she begins picking up sides into her bowl, "... thanks leon, you're really sweet.", she mutters lowly, slowly popping the food into her mouth. his eyes stay glued on each movement on hers. the way her voice rung in his ears was heavenly, the way her chest heaved faster than usual, the way her hair fell to frame her adorable face, the way her lips wrap around the utensil was so arousing...

fuck, he was hard again.

[magiccath]

Pretending

tenth doctor x f!reader (no use of y/n)

summary: In which you take the Doctor to your brother's wedding as your "date"

warnings: f!reader (in a dress) who has a brother

“No mum, but I-” you let out an exasperated sigh, pacing about the TARDIS control room. As your mother chattered on through the phone you rolled your eyes, casting a quick glance at the Doctor. 

He didn’t appear to be paying any attention to you, his gaze fixed on the console. He was messing with the buttons with no apparent rhyme or reason. He was probably just keeping busy while you tried to wrap the phone call up.

Unbeknownst to you, he was listening in on your conversation as much as he could without being obvious.

“Fine. I’ll be there, and…” you glanced at the Doctor again, relying on a hope that he would just play along with you, “I’ll bring someone.”

The Doctor pulled his attention to you, a questioning look plastered on his face. Did you have a secret boyfriend he didn’t know about? Who was this “someone” that you were going to bring home? The Doctor didn’t want to admit it, but he felt a pit of jealousy growing in him. 

“I’ll see you soon,” you smiled, “I love you too,” you pulled the phone away from your face before slamming it closed with a sigh.

“What’s that about?” 

“My brother’s wedding is this week, and my mom still expects me to bring someone,” you absentmindedly ran your fingers across the buttons of the TARDIS, “would it be too much to ask you to be my date?” you asked anxiously. You knew you were asking a lot of him, but you didn’t have any other options. You hoped he wouldn’t find it too weird. 

“Not at all!” The Doctor grinned, Honestly, the Doctor was too distracted by the fact that you weren’t harboring a secret boyfriend to think before speaking. He was more than happy to do it, he would hardly have to pretend. He felt a dull pain in his chest thinking about being your boyfriend. He had to remind himself he was just a date to get your mom off your back. It wasn’t real.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “When is it?” 

“Thursday at 4,” You smiled, surprised he was going along with this so easily. Usually, it took some convincing to get him to do the things that you wanted.

“Go get dressed,” he nodded towards the hallway with a smile. 

You frowned and checked your watch.

“It’s Monday,” you laughed, ignoring him. He had absolutely no concept of time. It didn’t really matter when you were a space and time traveler. You had to remind him of important holidays like Christmas if you wanted to celebrate them. It wasn’t the kind of thing he thought about.

“Time machine,” he said as if reading your mind. He accentuated his point with a wink, flicking the switches on the console quickly. 

You rolled your eyes but complied, leaving the control room to get ready. You pulled your best dress from the back of your closet. You never wore it, and you never had much reason to. You were always traveling with the Doctor, and a formal dress hardly seemed appropriate. Still, when you moved into the TARDIS you brought it with you. Just in case. 

You’d bought the dress a month after traveling with the Doctor. You’d seen it in a shop window and the blue reminded you too much of the TARDIS to walk away from. The material was velvety and draped nicely, comfortably highlighting the natural curves of your body. If you looked closely at the fabric you could see the stars and planets etched into the crushed velvet. 

Looking at it now it felt silly to buy a dress simply because it reminded you of a man you had just met. You tried to push these thoughts from your head and focus on getting ready. 

When you were done you stood in front of the mirror, trying to make sure the girl looking back at you was still yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time you had dressed up like this. The last time you looked… this good. 

You shook your head, pulling your focus back to the task at hand. You ran your hands through your hair anxiously before leaving. You walked down the hall carefully, stopping in the doorframe for a moment to look at the Doctor. 

It was rare that you got to see him like this. His head was bent over the ship’s console, his brow furrowed in concentration. His spiky hair flew about in a million different directions. He had swapped his normal stripped suit for a plain black one. It was more properly fitted to his body, the black fabric draping over the sharp lines of his frame. You loved his normal suits, but there was just something about this one that had you captivated. Honestly, you found it hard to look away from him.

The Doctor turned towards you, the sound of your footsteps down the hallway pulling him from his work. The sight of you stopped him dead in his tracks, his eyes following the shape of your body in the doorframe. 

“You look…” he trailed off, wide-eyed. 

“Weird, I know,” you laughed, pulling anxiously at the hem of your dress. 

“Beautiful,” He whispered, his honey eyes connecting with yours. The compliment made you turn away, a scarlet flush spreading across your cheeks. 

He’d truly meant what he had said. Your hair fell elegantly around your face and shoulders, its color shimmering in the control room’s light. The Doctor couldn’t remember a time you had ever worn something so elegant or flattering. Not that your normal clothes were unflattering, there was just something special about seeing you in such fancy clothes. He was so used to your normal attire, that he found it hard to focus seeing you like this. He tried his best to keep his eyes from wandering, but it was hard. 

You found you were having a similar problem with him and his nice suit. It’s not like you hadn’t ever seen him in a suit before, he wore one every single day. There was just a special kind of whiplash in seeing him in something he didn’t usually wear.

“Shall we?” You asked nervously, trying to catch the Doctor’s eye again. He swallowed anxiously before nodding in agreement. 

He had already landed the TARDIS outside of the wedding venue while you were getting dressed. You took a deep breath preparing for what you were about to walk into. You truly loved your family, but they could be overbearing at times.

At the last moment, you held out your hand for the Doctor, a smile plastered on your face. Of course, he took it with an eager smile. 

“What’s your brother’s name again?” He whispered as you walked out of the TARDIS doors. You slapped him lightly, assuming he was jesting. The Doctor didn’t want to admit that he really couldn’t remember. He wasn’t really good with names. Thankfully, the couple’s names were plastered everywhere, saving him the embarrassment of having to ask again. 

It wasn’t long before your mother had rushed over, already dotting all over you. She fixed your hair and dress in places that didn’t really need to be fixed. The Doctor watched with a frown, examining the interaction like a nature documentary. 

“You look darling,” she smiled, taking your face in her hands. Moving on from you, she pulled her attention to the man at your side. “Hello, Doctor!” She smiled, pulling him into an unsolicited hug. 

“Mum,” you groaned, pulling on her sleeve. This was only her second time meeting the Time Lord, and she was already hugging him like family.

“Quite alright,” the Doctor grinned, hugging your mother back happily. He was a fan of hugs after all. 

“It’s wonderful to see you again, how’s the traveling going?” she chattered on. You nodded along, not fully processing her words.

Surprisingly, the Doctor was still listening intently. He seemed to be enjoying her copious amounts of energy.

“She never really tells me where you go. I hope she isn’t too much trouble?” She continued. The doctor smiled politely and shook his head. 

“If anything, I think I cause trouble for her,” he said, smiling at you adoringly. 

Absentmindedly you slipped your hand into the Doctor’s. He rubbed reassuring circles with his thumb before removing his hand to wrap it around your waist. 

You didn’t hear the Doctor’s answer or any that followed. The feeling of his strong hand on your waist was distracting enough. Holding hands was something you did all of the time. In a moment of great tension or danger, the Doctor would grab your hand without a second thought. If you were feeling lonely, you often would slip your hand into his. But he had never held you like this. Like you were a couple. 

“Well!” your mother clapped, pulling you out of your haze, “I should let you show your date around,” she winked. She’d always liked the Doctor, even though mothers usually didn’t (according to the Doctor himself). Your mother was always trying to set you up with someone, so you could imagine how happy she was that you showed up with a date.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to the Doctor, turning in his arms, “they’re going to be brutal.” 

“Oncoming storm, remember?” The Doctor smirked. It was typical of him to think he could handle anything. However, there was a major difference between your family and an army of Daleks. 

“I’m the only remaining family member who isn’t married, my dating life is a big deal,” you warned, adjusting his tie anxiously. He didn’t stop you, he knew you just needed something to keep your hands busy.

“They’re all…” you looked up at him with an almost solemn look, “expecting of me.” 

“Well,” The Doctor shrugged playfully, “you’ve got me here with you,” He smiled, pulling you closer to him, “You always have me.” 

His words made you turn a scarlet red, and you were more than happy to see your brother out of the corner of your eye. If anything, he could serve as a distraction so the Doctor couldn’t see the impact his words had on you. You didn’t want him to assume you had an ulterior motive in asking him to be here.

You called him over excitedly, giving him a big hug before introducing him to the Doctor. The Time Lord smiled politely, introducing himself to your brother with an excited smile.

The rest of the evening went as such. You walked the Doctor around, trying your best to keep the introductions short and painless. He didn’t seem to mind though, he happily answered all questions and continued all conversations. The whole time he was touching you in some way. Holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, hugging you when you really needed it. You couldn’t help but marvel at how well the alien played a boyfriend. You figured you’d have to edge him on a bit, grabbing his hand now and then. You had always just assumed that physical contact wasn’t something he consciously thought about. 

Your family loved him of course. He charmed just about everyone in a mile radius without even trying. Before long he was laughing and talking like he was part of the family. It was weird, seeing your lives collide in such a way. Even still, it seemed so natural. You didn’t ever want the night to end. The cheerful laughter rumbled through you, the Doctor’s hand resting comfortably in yours. 

Eventually, you left for a minute on your own, the Doctor following you shortly after. You had to admit, he was really selling this boyfriend thing well. 

“You’re been an excellent actor,” you laughed when he came into your line of sight. You smiled at him, genuinely grateful that he had made this night enjoyable for you. 

“I’m not acting,” the Doctor said, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. 

“It’s made this event so much more bearable and frankly-” you stopped suddenly. “What do you mean?” You asked confused. He wasn’t acting?

The Doctor looked at you wide-eyed, suddenly sensing he had said the wrong thing. “Nothing,” he mumbled, pulling his eyes away from yours. Something about the last few hours had given him the confidence to admit how much he enjoyed being with you in this capacity. But even further, something in your face now made him reconsider.

“What do you mean you aren’t acting? You hate this stuff.” 

“What stuff?” He asked, deflecting. 

“Romantic stuff.” You planted your hands on your hips, your stare relentless. 

“Not with you,” He groaned, his eyes connecting with yours again. “I love doing this with you. Having you this close, having your full attention and affection.” He groaned, running his hands over his face. 

“I don’t understand,” you laughed uncomfortably, averting your gaze. 

“I want this. For real.” 

You stared at the Doctor for a moment, letting his words register. Once it fully hit you, it felt like a weight was lifted off your chest. 

You threw yourself into his arms, standing on your tip toes. You still weren’t tall enough, so you pulled him down to you, crashing your lips into his. He adjusted quickly, lifting you off the ground so he could properly kiss you. 

As many times as you imagined kissing the Doctor, you never imagined it this perfectly. It seemed almost impossible that your lips fit together so well. His hands gripped you strongly as if he was afraid you would slip away. Your own hands tangled themselves into his hair, pulling at the locks slightly. 

As he deepened the kiss a content sigh floated from your lips, eliciting a smile from his own. You couldn’t get enough of each other, pulling desperately to get closer. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted this, even if it was fairly obvious at this point. When you pulled away to gasp for air the Doctor stared into your eyes with a goofy grin. 

“Can I stop pretending I’m not in love with you now?” He asked, and you threw your head back laughing.

[abibliophobiaa]

Chapter Six: The Date

summary: you and eddie go to a wedding together. and decisions are made. (7.4k words)

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

masterlist | previous chapter, next chapter

——

  Saturday Morning light seeped through billowing curtains. Golden rays casted shadows along the tan carpeting, illuminating the space in a heavenly glow. You could smell that morning Spring breeze — the freshness of it, the tease of a beautiful day to come. The warming March air teased along your skin, gooseflesh pimpling across heated skin. 

Heated by the man curled up behind you. His fingers remained curled around your midsection, rings discarded into a tray at his bedside. The touch seeped through the tee shirt you wore, your own fingers itching to reach out and trace the forearm keeping you held in place, while your head rested on Eddie’s other toned bicep, your pillow forgotten. 

Breath puffed along your ear. His face pressed into the curve of your shoulder, curls dangling along your skin. If you reached out, you’d be able to tangle your fingers in the feathery curls. Would watch them extend and retract with a bounce, falling messily into place as they always did. 

“Morning.” 

It was a muffled moan at your neck, his face turning into it as he hugged you tighter, limbs stretching out beneath him. Vaguely, you wondered if he’d even realized what he was doing — holding you tighter, wrapping himself further around you, locking you into an embrace. But you eased into it, a low hum spilling from you as your fingers reached down and trailed along the backs of his knuckles, his laughter making your heart soar when your fingertips tickled along his flesh. 

For a moment, you allowed yourself to block out everything else around you. Allowed the simple haven you created here in his room with him over the span of several days. A safe space for you to share and for him to listen, for him to express his heart and for you to open up yours. Smiled to yourself as he relaxed further against your back, and you sank into him, your head nuzzling further into his bicep. 

In the distance, his wall clock alerted you he’d have to head out to the shop in an hour, but in here time didn’t exist. At least not right now. Not as he shifted his arm from beneath his head and propped himself up on an elbow, palm pressed to his temple as he looked down over at you. 

As you rolled over, you were shadowed and sheltered in the safety of his gaze, those umber eyes locked on yours and he simply stared. Beheld you, like he thought you might run away. Part of you wanted to. And the other — the other part, beaten and battered by love, still held onto hope that there were good people in this world. 

Good people like the man beside you, with love in his heart, full to the brim, a best friend to you now. 

“Good morning,” you murmured back, gripping his chin in hand and wiggling it lightly, earning a soft smile out of the man. He groaned and flopped back down onto his pillow, forehead smashed into the fabric, hair splayed out every which way, the man dramatic as ever. Endearingly so. “We should probably get up. You have to leave in a few. I can make coffee. I owe you after that back rub.” 

He followed you begrudgingly. Like a boy much younger than his nearly thirty years, with his feet dragging behind you down the hall, fingers reached up to tie his hair back into a messy ponytail at the back of his head. Little pieces spilled out around his face, and you fought back the urge to reach up and push them behind his ears. To see if he’d lean into your embrace like he had so many months ago, and lay a kiss into the center of your palm, stealing your breath all over again. 

But instead you turned around to face the coffee pot, prepping the contents of the machine as Eddie rummaged about in the fridge and took out some things needed to throw together some breakfast for the two of you. With pancakes cooking on the stovetop, you shifted and pressed your hip into the countertop. 

He tipped his head your way, beaming as he reached out and tugged you closer, your front nearly bumping into his side. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Really riveting things,” you told him, mouth curling into a smirk. “As in, shopping with Chrissy for the wedding tomorrow, and grabbing lunch with Robin, her and Melody. Elena is our honorary fifth wheel.”

“Dress shopping,” he mused, flipping a pancake over, head dipped lower as he tossed some blueberries into another pancake. 

“Yeah,” you began, a teasing lilt imbuing your tone, “Got asked on a date or something. Figured I should try and look nice.” 

“You always look nice.” Your cheeks burned at his words. “Who is this guy? Should I be worried?”

“Mmm, he seems nice enough. Hope he doesn’t mind that I’m almost six months pregnant.” At his narrowed gaze, you laughed, shoving at him lightly. “What time do you think you’ll be back?”

“Around dinner time,” he said, sliding over the finished pancakes onto a plate. 

You rushed around him before he could say a word and brought them over to the kitchen table, placing them alongside the bottle of syrup and glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. With a click, he turned the stove off and tossed the pan into the sink to let it cool down, grabbing you both cups of coffee the way he knew you liked and brought yours over to you, your hands cupped gratefully around it with a soft smile tossed his way. 

“You’re wearing a green tie, right?” you asked, cutting a piece of your pancake and placing it in your mouth, humming around the blueberries that burst to life on your tongue. Eddie was practically glowing with it, dimpled cheeks and all, and your heart stuttered at the look in his eye. 

“Yeah, sage green is what Chrissy and Suzie called it,” he replied, sipping some of his coffee, rubbing at his stubbed jawline. 

“I’ll try and somewhat match you then,” you said. “I don’t want to step on the bride's toes.” 

“I’d like that…” 

He leaned back against his chair, and you leaned over the table closer to him, fingers hovering over the little bit of syrup he’d gotten on his cheek. Dark eyes watched your face as you brushed your thumb over the plushest part of it, wiping away the traces of his sugary treat. 

“I think I’m going to try and make dinner tonight,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm as Eddie relished in your touch, his dark eyes softening, that mouth of his twitching into a smirk at your words. “I think I’ve learned a thing or two these weeks, Munson. I think it’s about time the student becomes the teacher.”

“Is that so?” 

“Mhmm. So don't worry about anything. You just have a good day at work, and I’ll take care of things around here.” 

Proud of yourself, you leaned back against your chair, satisfied and full from his delicious breakfast, a hand curled absentmindedly over your middle. Eddie rose, his chair squeaking in protest, a kiss pressed to the crown of your head in thanks as he collected your plates and tossed them into the sink. 

With a harrumph, you joined him, nearly shoving him out of the way with a teasingly hissed, “Shoo — go get ready!” and a jab aimed perfectly in the middle of his stomach, making the poor guy hunch over in a laugh, his bright and joyful face twisting the vice around your heart even tighter. 

  ——

  “So…any new events since we last spoke — no, sweetie, that’s not a toy.” Chrissy plucked the remote Melody had stolen from beside Steve’s thigh from where she crawled around on the couch, alternating between crawling in her father’s lap and smacking his face with an eager palm, seeking out his affection. 

“Chris, stop tormenting the girl,” Steve laughed, watching as the players on the screen glided around on the ice, one player managing to score a goal that had Steve breaking off into an excited shout. “She’s going to run out the door if you keep it up.” 

“We’re good,” you admitted, toying with the frayed edge of a pillow you dragged onto your lap, thighs curled beneath you on the couch. “I mean, we’re going to the wedding tomorrow as dates so…I don’t know.” 

You shrugged, and Chrissy looked like the cat who ate the canary. Nearly bounced up and down on the couch, rocking you with the flurry of her movements, her arms coming up to loop right around your shoulders just as Melody broke out into shrieking wails from where she rested in Steve’s lap. 

“Oh, baby!” Chrissy cooed, scrambling back over to her little one, kissing at her chubby cheeks and brushing away those water droplets falling from pretty hazel eyes. “I’m so sorry. Momma is just really excited.”  

Steve grunted as Chrissy and Melody swapped, his wife now draped over his lap, hands coming to curl around her despite it though. You thought it sweet, the way he tucked them both in close, brushing his lips over her temple as she settled her head over his sternum, rocking their baby in her lap. 

It was hard to not wonder. To not dream that this might be your own reality. That there could be a world where you loved and received love in return — the kind you’d long given up on. 

Steve glanced your way as you absently traced a palm over the hill of your belly, Elena a comfort despite the unease steadily growing in your chest. “I don’t like speaking for him when he’s not here, but he really cares about you. Both of you.”

“So much for stopping tormenting her,” Chrissy teased, though it was warm with affection, her hand stroking along his chest beside her head. 

“I’m not the one constantly trying to play matchmaker with our best friends,” Steve retorted, snickering when Chrissy pouted up at him adorably. 

Your heart raced over best friends. Truly, you didn’t know what you’d have done without the Harringtons. They’d been there when you had been alone. Had been there on nights when Robin was gone for the night and your grief got the better of you. And now — now they meant the world to you. 

To you and Eddie. 

In a few months, to Elena as well. 

“I’m giving her encouragement. So much has changed in a short amount of time, so I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, then looked at Chrissy. “Both of you, really. I don’t know what I’d have done without the both of you and Robin. Elena is definitely not short on love by any means. But I really should get back to the house. I told Eddie I’d make him dinner — okay, now both of you are looking at me like you’re meddling. We’re just…we’re…”

“Feeling things out,” Steve suggested, and you nodded. 

“I’ll see you both at the wedding tomorrow,” you said, grabbing your things and walking over to hug Chrissy as best as possible from where she lay on her husband’s lap. Then leaned down and placed a loud kiss on Melody's cheek. “And you too!”

  ——

  The first thing Eddie noticed when he kicked off his shoes and walked into the home was the sound of music playing. Something slow and sweet, a soft, lilting thing. The second thing he noticed was the unmistakable smell of what he assumed to be dinner burning. Followed up only then by the sound of your fretting in the kitchen. Whimpered little cries that had him stepping further into the home hastily, whipping around the corner to find you at the kitchen table with your head in your hands and a burnt to a crisp looking lasagna on a potholder at the stovetop. 

“Sweetheart…” he called out, knowing you’d been a little easily startled as of late. And emotional. And it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see your dejected state, the way your shoulders were hunched over in defeat, tears dropping into the placemat beneath your head, sides shaking with your tears. “Hey, hey, what happened here?”

When you lifted your head, Eddie’s heart sank. The red tint to your eyes, the puffy lids, the downturn of your lips, tear tracks across your cheeks. With a whispered coo of your name, he tugged you up and off the chair and onto his knees, arms curled right around your form as you pressed your head into his shoulder, sniffling noisily. 

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. But I did, and by the time I woke up, it had burned and now dinner is ruined,” you whined, his mouth shifting downward as you clung tighter to his shirt, clutching the fabric tight in your hand. “I wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve been so good all these weeks and I appreciate everything so much and I honestly don’t feel like I deserve it all the time and I —”

“Breathe, Buttercup. Hey, let me see that pretty face, okay?” You leaned back a bit and stared up at him, his palms coming up to rest on either side of your face. “It’s fine.”

“But it doesn’t feel fine.” 

The sleeves of your thin sweater wiped across your eyes, smudging the mascara on your bottom lashes just the slightest. He brushed at it with his thumb, and you let out a ragged breath, still choked up from your tears. 

“I ruined dinner,” you whimpered, a little broken sound that had him tutting and pulling you back into his neck, where you tucked your head away into, his chin resting on the crown of your head. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he promised, feeling his chest ache in your shared sadness. He hated seeing you cry, knew a large factor of it was the countless emotions you felt on any given day as of late, but hated it all the same. “You went out of your way to make dinner for me. And so what if it didn’t turn out as planned? I’ll just order us a pizza, we’ll hang out and just relax. That would make my day.”

“Really?” 

“I’m serious. As long as I get to spend time with you, I’m happy,” he admitted softly, hand running soothingly up and down your back. Listened as your breathing evened out, your voice a little less watery now. “Here, stand up for a minute, okay?”

With little reluctance, you allowed him to help you up and off of his lap. As soon as you were up, he joined you in the middle of the kitchen, hand looped right around yours as he reached over to grab the wall phone and called in an order for pizza. Confusion arched your brows, eyes locked on him as he prattled off the usual pizza order and thanked them, hanging up with a loud slam against the receiver. 

“They said fifteen minutes,” he told you, waving you over with a hand. Your brows arched higher, so he continued, adding, “I wanna hold you. I hate when you’re sad. Kills me. Come here.”

He thought it was funny. Ironic, the way you’d both worn matching costumes that night. The partner to each respective costume. And funny now, standing here in his kitchen, with you in his arms, swaying back and forth to the music filtering in from the speaker. 

He’d touched every inch of you, had mapped every delicate curve and traced them with his lips, had pushed inside you and learned what his name sounded like when rounded with the peak of your pleasure. Even knowing all of that, this felt more intimate. Simply holding you and rocking you back and forth in his home, his arms around your shoulders, his daughter protected between the two of you. A slow dance, completely unhurried. Neither of you had anywhere to go, anyone to see. Simply basking in the closeness of one another, swaying as one song changed into another, and then another.

And when you looked up at him, your face inches from his, your mouth softly parted in a way that had him leaning in a bit, he relished in it. Succumbed to the allure of you, the way you pushed up a bit onto your toes, inching in closer. Just millimeters apart now, aching for the distance to be closed once and for all, only waiting for the other to take the leap.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, watching your eyes sparkle in the yellowy light up above. 

A hand drifted up to cup your cheek, and his heart skipped because you leaned into it, tipping your face up to his in a silent offering. The air fizzled with intention. His stomach tumbled in anticipation, falling to the floor as your fingers slid up along his sternum, over his shoulder, toyed with the hairs at the back of his neck, lost within the frizzy curls there. 

“Eddie…” 

His name was breathy on your lips. He thumbed along your bottom lip and parted it gently, your breath stuttering. Watched the way your eyes zeroed in on that point of contact. He wondered briefly if you could hear his heart slamming away behind his ribcage — the drumbeat of want pounding in his system, present for weeks now. 

So he drifted closer. Leaned closer. Felt the frantic whoosh of your breath on his bottom lip, felt the tremble in your form as you stepped in closer, as close as your bodies would allow, hand curling tighter around the back of his neck. Time seemed to pause, the gentle hum of the radio long forgotten, replaced by your shared breathing and the sound of his blood pumping in his veins. 

The two of you. Exactly how he’d dreamed of it time and time again, simply waiting for you to dare to take a leap — and then, the wretched doorbell. A loud chime that sounded throughout the home, dissolving the moment instantly. You stepped back, a hand over your chest, and Eddie swiped a hand down his face as he marched down the hall. 

Couldn’t help his disgruntled annoyance when the worker read the total for the pizza out loud, the way he swiftly grabbed the pizza in hand and made his way back to you, as though the moment would right itself one more, but as fast as it came it was gone. Replaced by the sight of you pulling out paper plates and plastic cups, your water already settled where you usually sat at the dinner table. 

You both ate in silence, neither choosing to broach the topic of what almost occurred in the kitchen. If anything, you proceeded like normal. Joked over pizzas, laughter filling the room, his sides aching when you told him a story about Chrissy and your adventures to the department stores to find a dress suitable for a wedding. 

Eventually, you both cleaned up together and headed to the bathroom, changed for bed, both brushing your teeth in the glowing lights of the bathroom mirror. Eddie sighed at the joyful upturn of your lips, found himself drifting closer to your side, if only to be close. Dropped a hand to run over your middle before spitting out his toothpaste and leaning down toward the bump when you said she was being a little extra mobile than usual — likely because she’d heard his voice, whispering ‘goodnight’ to Elena.

Your fingers trailed to the back of his head as he righted himself once more, dark eyes clashing with yours as you muttered, “We should probably get ready for bed. Long day tomorrow.”

“Uh…right.” 

Wayne’s home had been fixed. He’d left earlier in the day to head back over, and Eddie watched you pause in the middle of the two rooms, unsure of which way you wanted to go now that you didn’t need to share with him. He wouldn’t force you to stay in his room, but he wouldn’t lie that he hadn’t slept better the past few days knowing you were beside him. Part of him wanted to ask if you felt the same, though judging by the way you slept beside him, he had an idea of what your answer might be. 

“Can I…”

“Yes,” he breathed out, trying to fight the smile that crawled across his lips as you hurried on into his bedroom and made yourself comfortable on your side of the bed. 

With a sigh, you rolled over onto your side and Eddie slipped in beside you. Your back hit his chest, he flicked off the lamp, and wrapped right around your form. Tried not to think about the almost kiss that happened in his kitchen, the plush of your parted lips, the hitch in your breath. Tried to not imagine what would have happened were it not for the delivery man arriving when they had. 

And as you whispered goodnight, your hand running along the back of his, he closed his eyes and dreamed of a beautiful woman in a Princess Buttercup costume. Of margaritas and salty kisses. Of stumbling around in the supermarket, giddy on excitement, a shopping basket between the both of you. 

Dreamed of rocking you in the kitchen, holding you close — craving to be closer still. 

  ——

  Dustin and Suzie were wedded on a breezy Sunday in March, surrounded by their best friends. The two had been together as teenagers, separated by college for a while, before finding one another again just a little under two years ago now, when they decided they wanted to be together forever. 

Steve, recently ordained for the wedding, married them, while Eddie acted as best man for the evening. All in all, the ceremony was beautiful. Lush green covered every inch of the room, the floral arrangements accented with pops of pale pinks. 

You sat across from where Eddie stood at the front of the room, seated on Chrissy’s right, with Robin and Vickie to your left, trying to hide the giggly smile that kept creeping onto your lips when he looked your way. He’d been doing so all evening, trying so hard to make you crack — to get you to laugh. And it worked, your sides shaking, mouth hidden behind your hand. 

“You two are actually so cute I’m going to scream,” Chrissy whisper-hissed, leaning in close to your ear. 

“Good thing you can’t get pregnant twice,” Robin added, snickering to Vickie when your mouth gaped open. “What with the way he’s looking at you.”

“Shh, both of you,” you muttered back, but there was no heat behind it, only giddiness, “Pay attention.”

Dustin and Suzie decided to share their own vows, wherein they may have gone into reciting some lyrics of “The Neverending Story,” though you’d ask Eddie about the importance of that to them later. As they pushed their rings onto the other’s finger, you found your eyes watering, tears clouding over your vision, air choking off in your lungs. 

They were so young when they first fell in love. Had lost that love, and then found it again. To have something so lasting — so resilient…it seemed unheard of. And yet, hopeful all the same. 

It was then your eyes trailed away from the happy couple, their eyes locked on one another, fingers clasped between them, and shifted to Eddie. He looked your way, curls less endearingly frizzy than you’d ever seen them before, hands laced together in front of himself, a questioning look in his eye. Timid fingers raised just above your lap to wave at him, and as he noticed the gesture, you watched his own fingers unfurl. Watched him wiggle them close to his hips. Hidden from most, and yet everything to you. 

Heart soaring, the room melted into cheers as Steve announced the new Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, just as the couple kissed one last time at the altar and began walking down from where they came, the room clapping the whole time. 

Eddie was next in line to leave, his arm gripped tight by his partner for the evening, a beautiful curly headed brunette with eyes that reminded you of the ocean. One of Suzie’s family friends. 

But even as she practically tugged Eddie down the aisle, he called your name over the crowd. Caught your attention long enough to tell you, “I’ll find you during cocktail hour,” and disappeared from your sight. 

“Okay, Melody,” Chrissy exhaled airily, “time to go find Daddy so Mommy can get herself a glass of champagne, and a mocktail for your Auntie.”

Cocktail hour proved to be…frustrating to say the least. Chrissy, Robin, Vickie, and Steve remained at your side throughout, Melody hiked high onto Steve’s hip, as you clutched your virgin drink in hand, watching as Eddie’s curly headed friend gripped his forearm and dragged him over to the bar, intent on keeping him locked in conversation. 

“He wants you to go over and say hi, you know?” Steve laughed, trying to pry your fingers free from their vice grip around the glass he must have thought you were seconds from breaking into dozens of pieces. “He’s looking your way. The guy is begging for rescue. Go over there.”

“He’s got the horrified baby doe eyes,” Robin added, giving you a little playful shove. 

“Yeah, but I look like this —” You gesticulated around your form, around the emerald green dress that couldn’t really hide the fact you popped the past couple of weeks. “And…and…”

“You are beautiful,” Chrissy reassured you, both hands of hers curling around your shoulders, giving you a little wiggle. “Now go, my cute jealous green monster.” 

With a heavy sigh, you gripped your pocketbook tighter to your form and slipped through the crowd, bumping against bodies and apologizing every time you did, intent on finding the curly headed metalhead. As you approached, his eyes lit up, the woman beside him turning around a bit to take you in as his arm opened to allow you into his side, immediately tugging you in close. 

The woman’s brow arched a bit, and as if to make things even clearer — much to your happy amusement — Eddie cupped a hand over your middle, introducing you to the woman you found to be named Hilary. 

“Wow, congratulations you two. A baby,” she said, her plans for the evening quickly deflating at the realization dawning that she wouldn’t be going home with him tonight. “That’s — that’s really wonderful. I wish you both all the luck.”

And then she was gone to find another eligible bachelor, something you most definitely didn’t fault her for. The night you’d met Eddie, you’d been fresh off the end of a two year relationship that left you reluctant to get close to another person for a long time. 

The universe just had its own plans, placing Eddie Munson in your pathway. Eddie Munson, who turned you in his arms in a little circle and beamed down at you, eyes roaming over your form. Heat crawled up your spine at the gesture, settling low in your belly. 

“You look…” He breathed out, pushing up one of the green straps that had fallen down a bit higher on your shoulder. “You look really beautiful. Did you get a drink yet? Water? Need me to get you anything?”

“I could have water,” you said, allowing him to pull you further away from the crowd, settling near a corner of the room. “Hilary seemed nice.”

“Someone seems jealous,” he teased, hip bumping yours playfully. 

The heel of your shoe dug at the ground awkwardly. “Well, I don’t know…she was really pretty and you’re…well, you’re technically single, so if you wanted to…” 

“Would you want me to?” he asked, frown settling into place. 

“No,” you admitted, a little too quickly. But it was the truth. You hated to think what it would be like if Eddie brought someone home. Didn’t want to dig up what those feelings were all about. 

He lifted a hand to cup your cheek, voice a little sad when he asked, “You really don’t get it, do you?” 

The question bubbled on your lips. The need for him to clarify what he’d meant, but just as your mouth opened to voice it, people began making their way into the reception hall, once again interrupting a needed moment between you and Eddie. Resigned to the fact a wedding for a friend may not be the best of places to delve further into the intricacies of your changing friendship, you allowed Eddie to lead you into the hall, his fingers immediately plucking both of your name plates from where they were positioned on a large table. 

The two of you were fortunately seated with familiar faces. Steve and Chrissy, Robin and Vickie, Max and Lucas, Will and Mike, and El, Nancy and Jonathan were all placed around you. Nancy, who you’d spoken to briefly over the phone, had rushed over and hugged you as if she’d known you for years. 

Eddie remained by your side as usual. Grabbed your water when a staff member walked by. And you kept close to him, allowing yourself this night with this man. It wasn’t long before Dustin and Suzie shared their first dance, asking the couples around the room to join them in their sweet moment. 

Steve and Chrissy were off to dance together first, their daughter between them, and the sight alone had your chest aching, head looking over to Eddie. Eddie, who watched on with rounded eyes, his chest heaving with his breaths. You imagined he was thinking of Elena, of the moments he’d share with her in only a few months now. Reached over to grip his hand in yours, eyes burning as he laced your fingers with his. 

“Do your feet hurt or do you —”

“I don’t dance, but I’ll dance with you, Eddie.”

Together, you settled into a steady flow on the dance floor. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his looped around the smallest point of your waist, one ringed hand pressing into your skin there. Warming you through the fabric of your dress. And you swayed, a slow back and forth, your head tucked against his chest. Over his heart, where you could hear the steady thump within. In a crowded room, you felt at peace here — alone, wrapped up in a stolen moment, with Eddie. Found that you liked it. 

“I think…we slip out a little early…make ice cream sundaes and curl up on the couch,” Eddie said against the top of your head, tugging you closer when you giggled at the suggestion. “We can blame it on your feet.”

“Using me as an excuse, Munson?” you teased, his echoing laugh vibrating against your form. “I’d love that. These heels are killing me. What did you mean before? What did you start saying before we got interrupted?”

His fingers trailed a path along your spine. A slow, methodical path that had you sinking further into him. “Not the place for it right now. I’ll tell you later, I promise.” 

“Okay,” you said, knowing Eddie always stuck true to his word. “How does it feel seeing one of your kids married?”

“Well, Max and Lucas were first. Was weird, because they’re adults but I’ve known them since they were freshman in high school,” he said, nodding his head to the couple dancing not too far off from where you two were. “I think it’s just like — they’re all growing up and doing things. And for a long time I was just working, going through the motions, trying to make the music thing work.”

“And now the music thing is working,” you told him, knowing he would be leaving for tour when Elena was around six months old. 

“Yeah, the music thing did end up working out for me.” He spun you out in a circle, then brought you back in against his chest, smiling against your forehead at your breathy little giggle. “And now I’m going to be a dad, and I don’t want to fuck that up, so my full focus is on that. So it’s…hard to see Dustin getting married, because he’s still that kid that I met so many years ago, but we’re all moving on. It’s different now.”

“I understand that. It’s weird seeing everyone around you moving on,” you said, recalling memories of when Micah approached you a while back about moving in with Jeremiah. 

It had hurt at the time, especially after years of being roommates, but they were in a good place and were anticipating marriage further down the line. You should have assumed it was the natural progression of things. Happened to also be right around the time you’d moved in with Paul, realizing soon enough that would be a mistake. But hindsight was twenty-twenty, after all. 

“It’s funny how life turns out,” you said, lifting your head to look up at him. “I mean look at the two of us now.”

He huffed out a laugh, nodding. “But I think we’re doing a good job.”

“I think so too,” you told him, leaning your head back against his sternum. “We make a good team and I wouldn’t change any of it.”

Later, after hours of dancing between portions of dinner served and endless chatter with his best friends, Eddie stood beside Robin and Steve and watched as you, Vickie and the rest of the ladies present at the wedding gathered around to try their hand at catching Suzie’s bouquet. 

“I hope you know,” Robin laughed, bumping Eddie’s shoulder. “Your girl over there isn’t going down without a fight.”

“Her and Chrissy scare me,” Steve added, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “Elbows will be thrown for that bouquet.”

And maybe it was all superstition. Maybe it didn’t really mean anything, but Eddie’s chest warmed as Suzie tossed the bouquet over her back. There, in a sea of bright color, you came out victorious, beautiful in a flash of emerald green. 

  ——

  The drive home was quiet. Eddie with his hand on your thigh, warming your chilled skin when you complained about it being a little cold. Your feet hurt, but in a way that you cherished, because you spent the night dancing with him. Spent it within the circle of his arms, bonded to him now in a way you couldn’t have imagined months ago. 

It was funny to think of your conversations that night. The shopping trip. The time shared together. You’d felt so close then, like two people who just happened to get one another, though it paled in comparison to how you felt now. Eddie, who’s head bobbed beside yours to the Metallica song playing through the radio, uncaring of how you perceived him — because he knew you already appreciated every part of him. Even his oddities and intricacies. Had long ago accepted Eddie Munson as Eddie Munson. 

And he did the same. Had seen every part of you — from the lowest of lows, to the highest of highs, and loved them all. The range of your emotions, the thoughts swirling in your mind, your hopes, desires, and interests. He never once judged, only tended to the parts of you that you once thought you had to hide from the light. 

Maybe that was how these things were intended to be? This burgeoning interest that had been bubbling for weeks now, lingering in the back of your mind, making you wonder if it would be so bad to take a leap. To wholly entrust Eddie with the part of you you’d kept locked away. 

The questioning died with your train of thought as the car pulled up in his driveway and he rushed around to open your door for you. With a flourish, he’d helped you down, your heels dangling in his fingertips as the two of you made your way inside, toeing off his own shoes at the door. 

Slipping on your slippers you left in the doorway, you meandered down the hall, making your way into the kitchen where you immediately climbed up onto the counter and grinned as Eddie pulled out chocolate syrup, some sprinkles, and the half eaten tub of ice cream you’d both been snacking on throughout the week.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” Eddie warned, thumb rubbing over your kneecap, where your dress had ridden up just in the slightest. He looked so handsome, button up shirt a little messy now from all the dancing, his tie hanging limply around his neck, suit discarded. “I’d prefer if you use a chair if you’re going to do that.”

“Fine,” you grumbled as he handed you a spoon, pouring the chocolate syrup into the opened tub, along with the rainbow sprinkles. Your spoon clanged with his, ready to simply eat out of the carton until it was finished. “I am so glad we both took off of work tomorrow.”

Granted, it was because of the wedding, but your feet were screaming and the thought of waking up early to head to work after getting home so late had your head reeling. 

“Hey, remember when we went food shopping on Halloween?” you asked, brain freezing a bit from your sugary treat, making you wince. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” He winced this time. 

“Always.” His words he was always saying to you, his form of ‘as you wish’ when you thought about it, and they brought a smile to his face. 

“I was so nervous that night, I really just needed to stall. So…food shopping it was.” His cheeks burned bright, your sides shaking with laughter as he swiped a hand down his face in embarrassment. “You’d be surprised to know, but I’m a bit of a nerd. People have never really been lined up to spend time with the town proclaimed ‘Freak.’”

“You’re perfect,” you told him, reaching over to tug on the sleeve of his shirt, dragging him into the space between your thighs. “In case you couldn’t tell, I was very much attracted to you that night. And every night, really. Don’t sell yourself short, Munson. Although, I thought it was really sweet. But you’ve…well, you’ve been that way since that night. And then when we saw each other again at the supermarket...letting me live here, accepting this baby, taking care of me all these weeks…you’ve done so much. Too much, probably.”

“You really don’t get it do you?” 

There it was again. That statement. “What do you mean?” 

“I wish I could…I don’t know, kick the shit out of Paul and anyone else who made you think that you’re, I don’t know, unlovable or something. Because I like you, Buttercup — I really, really like you.” 

“Oh.” 

And there it was. The truth. The answer to the questions that had been whirling around in your head for a bit now, validated in his rushed speech, in the way his eyes bore into yours with a need and laced with want that had head swimming low in your belly. 

“I care about you.” He glanced down at your belly. “And you. All the things you say that I’m doing that are ‘too much?’ Those are quite literally the bare minimum. Fuck everyone who ever gave less than that.” 

“Eddie…”

“But you said you wanted friendship. For Elena. So I’ve respected that,” he said, the redness in his cheeks dissipating, breath slowing from its heated rise and fall. Your fingers pressed along his sternum, felt the warmth of his skin there, the heavy thump of his heart against your skin. “But you deserve good things. It just…you break my heart when you say that shit. Like when you get all surprised if I make dinner or hold the door open for you or something. Because if you could only see from where I’m standing what I think of you — what anyone would think of you, if they’d gotten to know you like I have these past six weeks —”

“Eddie.” He lifted his head, dark eyes staring up into yours, your ice cream starting to melt, his palms on your thighs. “I like you too. But I’m scared. I’m really scared.”

His palms gripped your thighs tighter, rubbed up and down along flesh, warming your skin. “Do you trust me?”

There was no doubt about that. This man, who had taken you shopping before heading back to the hotel to make you both comfortable. This man, the one who had accepted his child as his own within moments of finding out they existed. This man, who had opened his home and heart to you these months. 

“Always,” you told him, swallowing the thick knot forming in the back of your throat. 

“I want to respect your boundaries. We can pretend this conversation never happened, or…we can figure out what this is. Whatever we want it to be.” He leaned in closer, the curls along his forehead brushing your own forehead. “I want whatever you want. So you can tell me right now to stop, and I’ll stop.”

“And if I don’t want you to stop?” 

Your nose ran along his, breathing staccato against his bottom lip, his mouth parted as dark eyes trailed along your face. 

His palm came up to cup one side of your face, angling you for him, mouth millimeters from yours. Inside, your stomach was swirling. Twisting and twining around as your heart kicked up behind your ribcage, loud enough you were surprised Eddie couldn’t hear. Your fingers moved to the front of his shirt, tugging him closer to you, your chest brushing along his, his other hand curled around your thigh gripping it tighter.  

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. 

And in a rushed breath. “Please.”

It was funny, you thought, comparing this kiss to the last ones you shared. Hurried, back in the hotel room — on a planned mission. You had moments, him leaving for a few days, and you with no intention of ever seeing him again. So it had been a frantic thing. Sliding lips, and bodies, clashing teeth, rapid flurry of hands to try and remove clothing. 

This time — this time Eddie moved slowly. Pressed the barest of brushes against your lips, just over the seam of your mouth. Thumbed at your cheek when you sighed into him, parting your lips with the smallest of teasing flicks at your bottom lip. And you opened, a hum rounding your mouth as you felt him there, tasting sweet like the bubbly champagne he’d consumed during the toast, the cake he’d had with dessert. 

“Eddie…” 

You sighed into him, tugged closer to the edge of the countertop, his hand sliding up your thigh and looping around your back to tether you to him. His lips met yours again and your eyes fluttered shut, the slowest of exhales spilling out between the two of you as you melted for him. Pretty in emerald green, and making those sounds he remembered for so long because they’d plagued him in his dreams for months now. 

At your moan, he shifted closer. Dragged his lips from your mouth and trailed them gently along the curve of your jaw. The delicate slope of your neck. Memorized every little whimper and cry from your lips all over again as his fingers brushed along the curve beneath your collarbone, followed them with the path of his lips. 

“More, Eddie,” you whimpered, feeling your pulse jump where his tongue laved over it, his nose ghosting along the shell of your ear. “Please.” 

“What do you want?” The voice was no more than a whisper against your skin. Fingers reached out to clutch at his shirt, trying to tether yourself to reality. “Need you to tell me what you want, Buttercup. Need your words.” 

The ball was in your court. He’d told you so for months now in his own way. Waited for you when he could have walked away like so many others had or would. On one side, remain in the comfortability of friendship. In the dark as to what this could be. On the other hand, take a leap. A risk, a dare. An attempt at shedding light on something buried deep between the two of you, hidden from light, given the chance to flourish and grow into something more. 

The answer, you found, was simple. 

“You, Eddie. I want you.”

  ——

thank you for all the love on this series. please please please let me know if you enjoyed. you don’t even know how much it means to your writers. can’t wait to chat with you all. 🩷🩷

[pedrisbanana]

pedri and joao threesome pls 🙏🏻💕 absolutely love everything u write

Their cum as lipgloss >...

Enjoy 🍌

Twice The Fun

You were squealing like a little school girl, when you opened your package. After removing the wrapping paper, the royal blue fabric greeted you. The polyester was soft between your fingers, when you took the shirt from the box. 

You smiled.

Another piece for your collection. Immediately after seeing the transfer announcement on his instagram, you went to the FC Chelsea website and placed your order. 

Scrunching your nose at the chemical smell, you cut the labels and put it in the washing machine. 20 Minutes and it will smell fresh as ever.

His jerseys held a special place in your closet, right behind your dresses and blouses. All of them neatly hung up on black coat hangers, sorted by club and season. You started collecting them long before meeting Pedri, who wasn't exactly fond of your little obsession with Chelsea's new striker starlet.

So when you sat on the couch two days later, watching Chelsea's Champions League match and Pedri came home from practice, he gave you a cold stare instead of the usual kiss. All because of that damn name on the back of the jersey.

"So you're a Chelsea fan now ?" Your boyfriend asked mockingly, sitting down next to you. 

You smirked. "Only until the end of the season, then I can watch him beat your ass in LaLiga again" 

"I should bend you over and give your ass a little beating for talking to me like that" Pedri replied, obviously pissed off.

"I really don't get why you're so jealous. I'm just a fan" you poked his chest playfully. 

"I'm not jealous! João Felix is a fucking arrogant asshole, who thinks he's the next Ronaldo just bc he scored a few goals. You shouldn't sit here, wearing his jersey." Pedri crossed his arms.

You decided to push his buttons a little more. "and yet he's there playing Champions League and you sit here, exhausted from extra training, because you disqualified from Europa League"

The midfielder rolled his eyes. "If he's so great then why aren't you there with him ? I bet you'd let him fuck you after the match, the way you're jumping up and down just because he hit the crossbar. Any 4th grader would've scored that." 

"If you had asked me in 2019 I'd tell you yes. I thought his braces were really hot" you admitted, focus back on the TV. 

Pedri laughed. "His braces ?" You joined in, glad he lightened his mood.

"What can I say I am obsessed" 

He looked at you, raising a brow. "So you're telling me you didn't think about it recently"

"If I say I did, will you get a pissed again ?" you nudged his shoulder.

You leaned close to his ear, not waiting for a reply. "Because I did, but don't worry, only when Barcelona played against Atletico. Twice the fun, right ?" 

-

Teasing Pedri with João wasn't your best choice. You boyfriend had been acting annoyed all week and ignored your affectionate tries to lighten him up. You decided to surprise and apologize to him. 

Pedri had a new campaign photoshoot with Adidas today, meaning he would probably come home late. 

You dimmed the light in your shared bedroom and lit a few tea lights to set the mood. Pedri loved it when you wore lingerie and you had just found the right set on your shopping trip today. It came with a matching robe which wouldn't make you feel too naked. The color was a soft red, powdery and not to bright, complimenting your skin tone.

The thought of Pedri's lips teasing your skin as he slowly took the lace of your body made you shiver in delight. He wouldn't be able to resist you.

Putting on some light makeup, you heard the lock turning. You quickly applied some last layers of mascara and went to the hallway. 

You jumped into your boyfriends arms, pulling him into a heated kiss. His hands caught your waist under the robe caressing your hips. Your fingers caressed his cheek as you broke the kiss, staring into his deep brown eyes. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have teased you. I'm more obsessed with you than with João." you said, hoping he'd accept it. 

"Didn't sound like that when Pedri told me about it." a voice with familiar accent stated. You know that voice.

You let go of your boyfriend to see if your guess was right, but it couldn't be. You must be hallucinating. 

João Félix was standing in your hallway. He wore a beige oversized t-shirt with the logo of some designer brand and light ripped jeans. You looked back and forth between the Portuguese and Pedri. 

So many questions ran through your mind. 

"I wanted to apologize for being an asshole and Félix and I did the photoshoot together so I invited him to meet you since you love him so much." Pedri explained, pushing you a little towards João. 

"I- ummm. Hey." the blush that decorated your face and neck must make you look like a beet.

"Hey." João smiled at you and checked out your outfit. Realizing you were still only wearing the rather revealing set of underwear, you wrapped the robe around yourself. 

"I'll umm go change." The presence of João made you forget how to think properly.

"No need to. Red is my favourite color, but I'm sure you know that." João said teasingly, a smirk curling on his lips. His hand caught your arm, holding you from leaving.

You stopped in your tracks and you were sure you forgot how to breathe for a second. Did he just flirt with you ? 

His grip on your arm was firm but soft. It made your whole body shiver. You turned your head to see Pedri's reaction. He must be fuming. 

To your surprise you're easily provoked sweetheart was watching the scenery without a hint of anger or annoyance. 

"You do look irresistible. What a nice surprise-" Pedri looked at João and winked. "- for both of us." 

You shot a confused look towards Pedri, about to ask what he was up to when he walked towards you. Trapped between the two footballers, you swallowed. 

"Isn't this what you dreamed about, princesa ? Twice the fun. Remember ?" His voice went straight to your core, soaking your panties. 

Of course you remembered. The thought of both Pedri and João touching you helped you fall asleep many nights, but that was it. Just a fantasy. 

João moved his hand to undo your robe. He slightly towered over you due to his height, lips almost touching your temple. You leaned into him, inviting him to go further. 

Pedri slipped his hand inside your panties. The pads of his fingers finding you wet and needy. 

If you thought about what was happening right now, you'd probably laugh, but you couldn't rationally think right now. João's and Pedri's hands on your body was all you could think about. 

João discarded your robe and opened your bra with a flick of his fingers. 

"You're so pretty." he whispered. His voice was drowned in arousal. 

You wanted to speak up, but he cupped your breasts and massaged them, which had you moaning instead. Your boyfriend started to kiss your neck. 

Somewhere between João teasing your now hardened nipples and Pedri having two fingers pumping in and out of you, the three of you ended up in the bedroom. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed and watched as João took his shirt off. His skin was tan and his muscles defined. He sat next to you on the duvet and Pedri encouraged you to be more confident. 

João caressed your hair as you opened the fly of his jeans. His long fingers combed through the strands and he leaned back a little. His dark brown eyes watched you intensely. Your hand reached inside his boxers. 

He was hard and warm in your hand. The other found leverage on his knee. João let out a breathy moan when you started to move your hand up and down, spreading the precum leaking at the tip. His hand wrapped around yours to tighten your grip around him, teaching you how he'd like it. 

You moved your sitting position to kneel beside him on the bed. The wetness between your thighs felt sticky and you rotated your hips slightly to create some friction. 

"Put me inside your mouth, amor." The striker whispered, hand wrapped around the back of your neck. 

Strong hands pulled at your hips as you leaned down. Pedri's hand sneaked inside your panties again, finding your pulsing clit. 

You let spit run over João's tip, covering his shaft, before taking him. Teasing the head by tracing the small furrow on the underside with your tongue made him call out your name. You clenched your thighs. 

Your boyfriend pulled your legs apart with one hand, keeping them apart with one knee. Pedri kneeled behind you. His hips flush with your ass. He must've taken his pants off, because you felt his hot skin on yours.

João's other hand started to play with your hair again as he watched you take more of his cock. 

"That's perfect, take all of me." he praised you, slightly pushing your head down by the neck. He added just enough pressure to make you press yourself against Pedri's erection. The midfilder let go of your hip to play with one of your nipples. Pulling and twisting it, making it harder not to grind against him. 

Removing your hand from João's shaft, you grasped his shoulder. The hand on his knee moved to play with his balls. They were full and heavy and João thrust his hips up, making you gag. 

Tears formed in your eyes from the burning sensation in your throat. João found a fast pace with his hips, hitting the back off your throat repeatedly. You were on the edge with Pedri rubbing your sensitive spot. 

You came with tears and spit running from your face, still swallowing João's cock. 

Pedri pulled you up and João wiped your tears with his thumbs. Pedri held you to him and kissed your flushed cheek. 

"That was so hot, princesa. Can't wait to be inside of you." he said, lips warm against your face. 

João's warmth disappeared as he got up to take his pants off, but you stopped him. Reaching forward you pulled his jeans and briefs now all the way down. 

His thighs looked strong as he walked towards you. He turned to Pedri, asking him something in Portuguese which you didn't understand. Pedri laughed and nodded, replying. 

João went over to one of your drawers but before you could see what he did, Pedri pulled you into a kiss. His tongue massaged yours and his hand intertwined with yours. You reached under his shirt, feeling the muscles of his six pack. 

The midfielder broke the kiss to take his shirt off, only his boxers covering him now. You wanted to please him. He shouldn't have to watch you have fun with João, even though Pedri had encouraged all of this. 

"Lay down." he whispered and grabbed some pillows from the headboard. 

As you were getting comfortable, Pedri positioned one pillow beneath your head and one beneath your ass. His hands explored your body doing so, touches lingering longer than needed. It got you excited all over again. 

The bed dipped beside you as Joao came back. His hands travelled from your knees to the dip of your waist, spreading them in the motion. He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them off you. His hand immediately cupped your exposed pussy and you bucked into him. 

He watched you squirm, lips slightly parted and moved to lay beside you. His lips left butterfly kisses on your shoulder, goosebumps erupting on your skin. Two of his long fingers entered you, making you arch into the pillows. 

After discarding his briefs, Pedri appeared on your other side. He whispered declarations of love into your neck. You felt something cold on your wet folds and hissed. João pulled his fingers out, spreading the cold liquid over your sensitive pussy, before moving them back inside. 

At least you thought so, but his digits only teased your entrance before guiding them lower. His middle finger teased the little ring of muscles, making you shriek in shock. He stopped.

Pedri caressed your cheek and pressed his forehead against yours. 

"I'll be careful. You'll like it if you relax." João mumbled against your shoulder. 

Your boyfriend moved his hands down your lower stomach to find you're prepared and dripping. He easily slid his fingers inside. 

"I'm here, mi vida. I've got you." Pedri said, curling his fingers. You cuddled into him. "We've got you." 

Pedri made you feel safe. 

João moved slightly atop of you. His free hand exploring your chest and his lips followed. When he teased your nipple with his tongue, he continued to massage your back entrance. 

This time you relaxed, enjoying the new sensations. The tip of his finger slipped inside as Pedri found your sweet spot inside of you. 

You felt your orgasm building up and Joao pressed further inside. He slowly started to move in and out, reaching hidden spots. 

The name on your lips was now his. He chuckled against your breast. "I told you you'll like it." 

Pedri circled your clit, wanting you to reach your peak. He had you clenching uncontrollably around him in seconds. João took the opportunity to slip a second finger inside of you. You barely even noticed it, being focused on the electricity making your body spasm. He bit down on your nipple. 

Now focusing on your other breast, he increased the pace of his fingers and Pedri, too, continued the play of his fingers. 

"Hermosa, you're a sight." Pedri moaned against your lips. His sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. His cheeks were flushed. He looked so sexy when he was aroused, you almost started drooling.

João looked up at you from your chest, releasing your abused bud with a pop. "I think you're ready to take my cock now, amor." 

He cocked his eyebrow and smirked. Removing his fingers, he crawled next to you. Pedri guided you to lay on your side, facing him. Your boyfriend handed João the lube again. 

Your heart thumbed in your chest. You had never experienced this much pleasure. Pedri hooked your leg over his waist, pulling you closer. 

Finally you could feel his cock against you. You were impossibly wet, his tip immediately slipping inside, being pressed flush. 

Pedri fucked you in a static pace, enough to make you moan, but not enough to make you come. His face pressed into your chest, hands spreading your cheeks for João.

You clawed at Pedri's back, surely leaving bruises. Arching your back into him, he increased the speed of his hips. You barely even noticed João entering your backside. He felt big, too big to make this pleasurable, but these two had proved you wrong before. 

Guiding his cock further, he moaned your name into your neck. His hands held your hips in a vice grip. He filled you out completely, waiting for you to get used to the feeling. 

Your hand found his and he slightly intertwined your fingers, resting them on your hip. 

"You're doing so well, amor. Taking two cocks at the same time." João kissed your shoulder. 

You couldn't quite register what he said, your thoughts and feelings overwhelmed by the intense pleasure. Your face felt sticky as you pressed it into the pillow. You didn't know if it was from the tears or the sweat. 

Pedri groaned into your chest as João started to move. They must feel each other pleasuring you. After a few thrusts the two synchronized each other. The sounds coming from your mouth were pure and raw desire. 

"This feels so good, makes me think we should invite him more often. What do you think, cariño ?" Pedri toyed with your nipple between his teeth, making you nod and scream out in pleasure. He never had a better idea.

João grinned against your neck and moved your joined hands to your middle. He let go of your fingers, but you trapped his hand in a vice grip. His fingers found your clit, drawing figure eights. 

The third orgasm of the night crashed over you in waves. It felt even better than the first two. 

Expecting the boys to come inside of you, you tried to move your hips, riding out your orgasm. 

They had other plans, as João carefully pulled out and detached himself from his hugging position against you. Pedri followed and slid up to the headboard. 

His crotch was now at level with your face, cock glistening with your juices. You felt João's hands guide you on all fours above Pedri, repositioning the pillow under your pelvis. 

João slipped inside your pussy with ease, filling you to the brim. You clenched around him greedily accepting his hard thrusts. His balls slapped against your throbbing clit. 

Pedri jerked his cock, guiding your head onto him by holding your hair in his hand at the back of your skull. Taking him fully, he moved the hand from his manhood to rest comfortably on the pillows behind his neck. 

Before you got to enjoy to blow your boyfriend, João released himself inside you. He pulled out, spilling some of his cum on your pussy and ass. 

This didn't bother you enough to stop sucking Pedri off. His cock was familiar between your lips and you knew exactly how to move to get him to lose control. 

João didn't let go of your hips. His fingers spread his cum over your core and found your clit again. The striker soon had you coming for a fourth time. 

The vibrating moans at the back of your throat, brought Pedri over the edge. He thrust his hips into your mouth until he was spent. His cum tasted salty, but nice. You liked swallowing him. 

Climbing off him, you laid on your back exhausted. Pedri turned to pull you into him. João left into the small attached bathroom. 

After getting a washcloth he kneeled between your thighs, softly cleaning you up. 

"If Pedri doesn't mind, I'd like to hear more about your little obsession with me, amor."

A/N: Finally I built up the confidence to post this!

Special love and thanks go to @pedrisgatorade & @simpingmyassoff who were so kind to read this over! You're the best!

I really hope you enjoy this and leave me a comment 💕🫣

Love you❤️

[angelickisscs]

wants vs needs ~ blurb‧₊˚

୨ ୧ ˚₊ pairing ~ trent alexander arnold x reader

summary: a breakup leads to sleepless nights and texts from your ex !

THE DIGITAL CLOCK placed next to you boldly boasted it’s numbers, the time making you grown harshly into your pillow. Sleep was all you wanted and yet it was the one thing not your body refused to give to you at this moment in time.

Rolling over into the cold sheets beside you, you repelled back slightly. The low temperature was a shock to your system, no matter how much you had been trying to familiarise yourself to it over the past weeks. The sheets only were getting worse.

You had soon lost count of the number of times you had shoved them angrily into the washing machine, putting it onto the longest cycle you could paired cruelly with the highest temperature as you attempted to wash the lingering scent of him off.

But it soldiered onwards.

Fabrics wore the strong bite of his aftershave, in each strand of cotton or even each crack in the wooden legs, each surface in your apartment was sure to carry the sultry scent that he bathed himself in.

You had always wondered how long it would linger for. Hoping and praying every time he went away for a game that it could stick with you for a couple extra days and yet it never did. Each day it would slowly decay until not a note of it joined your side.

The one time you wanted nothing but for it to leave you however, it found a new way to fail you. It persisted in the way that you could only dread, leaving you no choice but to scroll for replacements for your innocent sofa throughout the empty days. Though at this point, not even that seemed like a helpful enough option.

Every new jumper you had brought to replace his picked it up within a matter of hours, the scent sticking to each hair on your arms as you dragged them over your head.

Slamming down your fist onto the emptiness beside you, nothing was able to replace him. No inanimate object caring for you in the same way he used to. No number of blankets could seem to produce the same amount of warmth as his arms as they wrapped around you, dragging you as close to his body as humanly possible. The memories taunted your mind with no remorse, giving you no break despite your pleads.

1:56

The clock next to you read in mockery, mere minutes having passed since you last checked. You brought your hands up to your head, gripping softly at the strands of hair that you could. Not even the plain white ceiling gave you a well needed break. Far too many times had you lead in the exact same position after an argument with him. Wishing the same thing as you were right in that moment. For him to come back to you.

It was an irresponsible thought, trailing off and away from all the others about the same man. Rouge even. Yet it plagued you every night, screaming at you from afar.

Rain pattered against the window in desolation, that same emotion looming throughout the dense atmosphere around you. It was a flannel, forced to empty out everything it had to a sink that would not accept it. A jumper having been washed one too many times, all softness disintegrating, yet you failed to throw it out, the memories that it held with it being far too important.

Maybe you had gone on your first date with it or even the last. Maybe it was the one you had worn when you snuggled down onto the sofa together for the first time, bickering like two children over what movie to wear.

Though he was quick to give in, claiming a disinterest in the romcom you had opted for. But the questions that tumbled over his lips in annoyance when the male main character screwed up told you a much different story.

The good memories outweighed the bad by far too much. So much so, it left you feeling lost when he sat you down only two rooms away to inform you of the decision he had made. A decision he had made for the both of you but somewhere along the way, he had forgotten to involve you in it.

Your phone buzzing beside you brought you out of your scrambled mind, the unexpected noise giving you quite the fight. Slowly, you reached your hand behind your head, tapping around on the wooden surface as you searched for the object without the usage of your eyes.

It took you a minute, but it was soon in your hands, the bright light taking you a second to get past as it shone luminously in your eyes. Tapping onto the notification without a second thought, it took you a while to process the contact at which you were staring at. The same contact that only this morning you had blocked and unblocked at least five times.

A cascade of swear words fell from your lips once you had read his message. You dragged your bottom lip into your lips, biting down harshly as you thought through your options.

Your mind was telling you not to respond, reasoning with you through the hundreds of movies and tv shows you had watched with the same plotline.

It never ended well.

But it was only a simple you up? text, it probably would go nowhere.

With short, regretful taps, you typed in the first answer that came to mind. why?

Putting your phone back onto the soft duvet you were wrapped in, you slapped yourself on the head in utter disappointment at the little hesitation you felt.

It was a couple minutes later when your phone once again was buzzing beside you. Slowly, you moved your hand from atop of your face, sliding downwards until you felt the texture of your phone case meet with your hand. You flipped over in bed, turning your head into the pillow as you squeezed your eyes closed, your hand retreating so it could join your head.

A scream escaped from your throat, the sound falling flat into the plush object that had to put up with your tears so many times, it was most likely unbothered by this new action added into your streak of dramatics.

When the third buzz in that hour vibrated throughout your body, you had nothing left in you to ignore it. The ideas that filled your mind in what he could say at this hour leaving you no other choice.

I need to see you.

please

“Oh, Trent.” You whispered under your breath, reading the five words repeatedly. To the point where you had engraved them into your brain, the same one that you had betrayed by answering.

Multiple texts, each with a different array of words, filled the bar at the bottom corner of your screen. Yet none got you closer to what you wanted to say. You knew what you wanted; you knew it the minute the first text had appeared on your phone screen. It was not what you needed. You knew that just as well.

The bright light began to burn into your eyes, the tears that were forming from mixing such bright light with the darkness you had plunged yourself into for so many hours, pushing you from an answer even further.

Come over then.

2:31

[ninsletamain]

Fluffbruary Day 6: tie | embarrassment | dessert

My contribution to RebelCaptain Fluffbruary PLUS @quarantineddreamer's super ultra amazing fic addition below the cut!!!

The lines of code on the screen were no longer making sense. Somewhere between coffees 4 and 5 of the day they had slipped from Jyn’s grasp, gone from familiar symbols to something more akin to ancient hieroglyphics–as sure a sign as any that it was long-past time for her to take a break from her assignment. 

Reaching her arms skyward–tight knots in the muscles of her shoulders and along her spine protesting–Jyn glanced blearily at the alarm clock that perched neatly on the corner of the desk. 

Shit. Was that really the time? She scrambled to her feet, socks slipping on the linoleum floor, and threw her hair quickly into a bun. (Or what she hoped would pass for one anyways.)

Pants. I need pants. Jyn cast about the room, throwing the covers of the bed back, checking over the back of the roller-chair she’d spent the day–no, longer than that apparently–glued to, but found nothing. 

She could have sworn she had at least dropped a pair of sweatpants at the end of the bed at some point…

Cassian must have tidied up before he left (the neat freak); she hadn’t even noticed. That happened sometimes: the computer consuming her when she was locked onto a particular idea. But it shouldn’t have happened today. Today she had planned to wrap up her coursework early, surprise him… 

Okay screw the pants, Jyn decided, marching from the room towards the kitchen with all the determination of a soldier approaching the battlefield.

(If a soldier’s uniform was your boyfriend’s oversized, university sweatshirt and the fight ahead was the arduous task of preparing a meal.)

It took her more than a few tries to find everything–despite how organized Cassian kept his kitchen cabinets–but before too long Jyn was staring down at the black, glinting surface of a flawlessly seasoned cast iron pan and the looming depths of a large pot, a box of spaghetti, its matching jar of sauce, and an assortment of meat and vegetables thrown on the counter beside them. 

“I’ve got this,” Jyn muttered to herself, eyeing the recipe she’d taped to the fridge like it might grow fangs and snap at her. (Or catch fire and nearly burn the place down as had happened on her most recent foray into chefdom). “You’ve hacked into government systems before,” she continued. “This will be easy compared to that. A piece of cake, or a pot of pasta.” Hopefully anyways. 

She checked the oven clock. If she stood any chance of getting this done before Cassian (Impossibly-Punctual) Andor came home she had to start now. 

The empty apartment should have been quiet, peaceful. Instead, it suddenly seemed impossibly loud, noises swelling in her ears the longer she stood staring at the array of ingredients and tools––footsteps from the neighbor above, the distant rumble of a washing machine next door, the clicking of the fridge beside her, all clamoring in some insane harmony. 

The longer she stood there waiting (for what, she had no idea) the more power the sounds seemed to hold, quick to dredge up each and every anxious thought she had been so diligently shoving to the furthest corners of her mind since Cassian had told her of his plans to travel to Yavin…

When he cooked, Cassian always had music playing. Maybe that would help. Drown out the worry and the fear.

Jyn pulled her phone from the pocket of the red hoodie and tapped a playlist at random. Something upbeat began playing, muffled through the fabric as she tucked the phone back into the pocket, rolled up the too-long sleeves of the sweatshirt, and drew a deep breath. “Alright, here goes nothing…”

Turning down the hallway that led to his apartment, Cassian smelled something…interesting. 

He tried to pin down what it was. Starch, yes. Tomatoes, yes. Onions and garlic, most likely. But then there were other unexpected notes, the heat of what might have been chili powder tickling at his nostrils, growing stronger with each step closer he got to his door, and maybe the cheese he was smelling was parmesan or pecorino? The combination wasn’t exactly bad, just off–out of balance. 

He thought for sure it was one of the neighbors; maybe Mrs. McCleod experimenting again–after all, she had stopped him just last week to ask him about his favorite market for finding fresh produce.

But as he passed by Mrs. McCleod’s apartment, he noticed the crack under the door was dark, a small pile of mail collecting beneath her welcome mat. She was probably away visiting her niece again. Which meant that the smell was most likely emanating from the door at the end of the hall.

His door. 

Cassian tugged his tie looser, a warmth kindling in his stomach, a smile slowly spreading across his face; Jyn. 

He’d insisted she should stay at his apartment while he was gone–enjoy some solitude away from distracting roommates and loud neighbors–but he hadn’t been entirely certain she would take him up on it. She’d given him a strange look at the suggestion (despite the fact that after nearly a year of dating, she seemed to spend more time in his apartment than her own) and returned to her keyboard, completely absorbed in the endless numbers and symbols flashing wildly across the computer screen at her command.

The reaction hadn’t been a total shock to him. Jyn had been unusually quiet ever since he’d first mentioned his job interview in Yavin. He’d tried to tell himself she was just preoccupied with the workload associated with the final semester before she earned her degree, but deep down he knew that she was likely asking herself the same questions as he was: If I get this job, what happens to us? 

Cassian reached into his suit pocket for his key, twisted it in the lock, and slowly opened the door, his eyes tearing up at the overwhelming burn of capsaicin in the air. Dropping his backpack by the door, he followed the sound of hissing steam, music, and occasional cursing into the kitchen. 

It had been just over a day since he’d seen her, but even so, Cassian had spent the plane ride home longing for the moment when he could wrap his arms tight around her again, kiss her until they were both oxygen deprived and gasping for air. 

He’d envisioned a quick, eager reunion. Unable to hold himself back from rushing towards her; clumsy, grabbing hands and awkward clashing of teeth. 

But then he saw her: standing in his kitchen with her hair wild atop her head, dancing from the stovetop to a nearby drawer; humming along to the song playing faintly in the background as she poked uncertainly at a pan of sauteed vegetables and shot a quick glance at a boiling pot of water–and all he could think to do was lean his shoulder into the doorframe and stare, his breath catching in his chest with a fierce and sudden ache. 

Cassian knew he was helplessly, hopelessly lost–had known it for a while–but it had never been more apparent to him than in that moment, hovering at the threshold. He was certain that if he did nothing else for the rest of life but watch her, he’d still die the happiest man on earth. 

She’d decided to borrow his favorite sweatshirt while he was away–red, well-worn, with Ferrix University emblazoned across the front. As she rose on her tiptoes to reach into the spice cabinet, the bottom of the sweatshirt rose too, revealing the faintest glimpse of black panties, serving in sharp contrast to the perfect, pale curve of her ass. 

The sight inspired a different kind of ache. Cassian made his way across the kitchen, and placed his hands on Jyn’s shoulders. Somehow, the only words he could seem to find were, “You’re cooking.”

A string of swear words fell out of her mouth in quick succession. “I could’ve stabbed you,” she grumbled, even as she set down the knife she was holding to lean backwards into him. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.”

“I’m surprised I managed to.”

He felt her shoulders rise and fall against him. “I was distracted.” 

“I can see that,” he mused. “You’re cooking. You hate cooking.”

He could just make out the faint flush that rose in Jyn’s cheeks as she glanced back at him, her hair tickling his chin. “I do hate it,” she agreed, “but I figured you’d be hungry and…well, I don’t hate you.” 

A soft laugh escaped him, “What a relief.”

“Shut up.”

“No really,” he said, pulling her closer. “I was beginning to wonder.”

“Do you want food or not?” Her scowl was made significantly less believable by the smile catching quickly at the corners of her mouth. 

Cassian gave a considerate hum. His stomach had been rumbling as he stepped off the plane, but now a different kind of hunger was taking hold. His skin was hot beneath his suit where Jyn’s body pressed against his own; all he could seem to think of was her in his sweatshirt–in only his sweatshirt. 

But Jyn seized his brief lapse of silence as an opportunity to change subjects. “So…How’d the interview go?” she asked lightly, though her muscles went tight as she dipped a wooden spoon in the red liquid that bubbled on the stove in front of her.

He watched as she blew steam away from the spoon before bringing it to her mouth to taste and wincing. “The interview was fine,” he murmured, pressing (what he hoped she would as) a reassuring kiss to the top of her head.

The smile had already vanished from Jyn’s face. “You think you got the job then?”

Cassian moved his hand slowly up and down her arm, earlier ideas already forgotten. “They made me an offer,” he admitted quietly. 

“They did…” The energy seemed to have drained straight out of her–the dancing, humming, swearing woman from moments ago turned to shadow. 

Like she didn’t know. Like she couldn’t feel the frantic stuttering of his heart where his chest pressed between her shoulders blades. Like she couldn’t sense him, standing right here beside her on the knife’s edge. 

“I told them I couldn’t give them an answer yet,” he told her. Of course I did. As though there had been anything else he could do…

“You did what?” Jyn twisted in his arms. “That is your dream job. You know you want to go, so just go. Why would you–”

“Jyn,” he cut in, and she went still–let him hold her in place for at least a moment longer while he continued. “I said yet. I told them I couldn’t give them an answer yet.”

Her knuckles were white, wrapped tight around the wooden spoon. He reached past her and switched off the burners before anything could start smoking or boil over.

Cassian’s own nerves were starting to take hold. He gave a hard swallow, trying to clear the tightness from his throat. “I don’t want to go to Yavin. Not without you… I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

“What are you saying?”

“Come with me. After you graduate in the spring, come with me.”

“Cass…”

He was about to tell her she didn’t have to answer right now–to delay whatever pain he sensed was coming from inevitable rejection–when she closed her hand around his tie and tugged him closer, tilting her head back to press her lips to his. 

Beneath his mouth, he could feel her smile forming, but it still took his breath away to see it when they broke apart. “Is that a yes, then?”

Jyn wound his tie tighter around her hand. “I like this suit,” she commented, eyes sweeping across the blue fabric and back to the black silk of the tie. 

“I’m taking that as a yes…” Cassian told her, his attention splitting as she began to playfully undo the top buttons of his shirt. 

“I cooked for you…” Her lips passed over his throat, her voice muffled. 

Heat was racing up Cassian’s spine, his thoughts going increasingly hazy. “You did…” he replied, inhaling sharply as the hand not wrapped in his tie found the back of his head, fingers tugging lightly at his hair. 

“I’m a terrible cook, but I cooked. For you.”

She still hadn’t answered him. Not really. He wanted an answer, a definitive answer. “What does this have to do with–”

“Are you still hungry?” 

“Jyn–” he pleaded.

“Because I was thinking we should forget about the food,” she continued, her mouth brushing over his ear–words like sparks to his skin. “I changed my mind. There’s something else I want to do for you instead. Something I’m much, much better at…”

He relented slightly, instinct shoving reason aside as he tugged at the hem of the sweatshirt, her skin soft against his fingertips. “What did you have in mind?” 

“You mean, aside from moving to Yavin?” she murmured with a teasing grin, pressing even closer, tips of their noses brushing, her breath warm against his cheeks.

“So that was a yes earlier…”

Jyn rolled her eyes at him. “What do you think?”

He lifted her off her feet, and she laughed, wrapping her legs tight around his torso. “I think you’re coming to Yavin with me,” he said, slightly breathless, not quite daring to believe it. 

“I’m coming to Yavin with you,” she echoed, delivering a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Welcome home, Cassian.”

[hells-wasabii]

A/N: So Side Order is fun, but I've been reminded that I totally suck at skill based games. But yeah! This was absolutely written for my own self-indulgence. Nothing more to say, really. Not that often where i write the reader taking the lead, but eh Anywho, enjoy, or don't, up to you

Character: Velvette

Type: Fic (Velvette x fem!reader, Fluff, Spice)

Warning: This isn't fully NSFW, but it is spicy, so I'm still gonna put it below a cut!

An early morning ambiance filled the kitchen. The sound of the coffee machine brewing a fresh pot for the two of you just feet away. There was a nice little drone of music from the speaker on the counter, some softer song that you couldn’t remember the name of at the moment. But honestly, who could blame you? Right now, however, your mind is far more focused on more important things.

You were like putty in her hands, she knew it, you knew it, and you both knew the other knew it too. But there was no denying the fact that she was also putty in yours.

The kisses had started as nice and slow as the morning itself had. You were perfectly content taking your time there in the kitchen. The overlord’s lips were honestly like a drug. You really couldn’t get enough. Plump and soft, and all yours too. 

Only, much to your dismay, Velvette began to pull away. You hoped the little displeased sound you made was enough to convey said disappointment.

“Babe,” You offer a hum in response, chasing after her lips, trying for just one more kiss as she pulls away. Your eyes flutter open, finding the influencer staring back, eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust. Oh. You could practically feel the heat pooling in your belly at the sight. 

“Fuck, Imma need you to kiss me like you mean it.” Velvette all but growled out, she really did have a habit of being impatient, didn’t she? Oh, but when the tables were turned, the overlord had no issue with dragging things out if only for the hell of it. You start to open your mouth to throw back a retort, but the influencer is quick to shut that down.

She yanks you closer by the collar of your shirt, a gasp leaving your lips before she reclaims them in a fervent kiss. You were quick to return the kiss in kind. Teeth clanking together did little to deter either of you.

And suddenly there’s a hand slipping beneath your shirt, trailing up your side. Fuck, the way the overlord dragged blunted nails up your ribs, her hand purposefully brushing the swell of your breast before making its way back down. You couldn’t help but gasp, giving the overlord ample opportunity to slip her tongue in, more than happy to reexplore the already charted territory. 

You let your hands leave their place on hips, your fingertips grazing the fabric of her shorts as your hands trailed past the hem. You relished the way she shivered as a ghost of a touch trailed along the smooth expanse of thigh that lay beyond. Hooking your hands behind her knees, in one swift movement, you had lifted her onto the counter. Velvette responded in kind, wrapping her legs around your waist to keep you in place. You could swear that you felt the influencer roll her hips as she did so.

One of your hands soon found its way into her hair. You gave a gentle tug and the resulting moan was music to your ears. Fuck, your heart was absolutely pounding away in your chest. You weren’t entirely sure you’d be able to stop yourself from letting things escalate right there in the kitchen. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time, either. It wasn’t until Velvette nipped at your bottom lip that you realized just how deep you were in.

Ah, so it was escalating, escalating. Well, this is certainly one way to start a morning off, you thought.

You break the kiss, instead choosing to press a kiss to her cheek, an action that makes the influencer’s cheeks shift in a smile. Oh how infectious it was, you thought as you continued on. Soon your lips met the overlord’s neck, leaving a trail of opened-mouthed kisses and bites. Sucking on  with the full intent of leaving behind marks. You made a mental note to admire your work later when the little blotches formed properly. And just as things were really starting to get interesting, the both of you were promptly interrupted by the sudden buzzing from the front pocket of Velvette’s pants.

That damn phone. Whatever it was, was it really more important than this? 

“Ignore it,�� you whispered against her lips, and you could feel the smirk she gave in response. You let it give you the smallest shred of hope that she’d do just that. But in reality, you knew better. Really, you weren’t surprised, nor even truly upset when Velvette pulled back just enough to whip out her phone to see the caller ID.

“Fucking Vox.” Velvette hissed, scowling down at the cellular device. Message after message popped up on the screen, not only from Vox but Valentino as well. You swore under your breath, and just like that that little shred was gone. Oh, you could kill those two. Velvette It was unbelievably tempting not to move, just to keep the influencer pinned on that countertop, but that would hardly be fair, now would it? After all, it wasn’t her fault that ‘Vox and Valentino could barely handle shit themselves’ as she had so eloquently put it. 

So, begrudgingly, you pressed a final kiss to black-stained lips before beginning to pull away. Only the overlord followed your lips, recapturing them with her own. This one was slower than the kiss before, and you recognized it for exactly what it was. A promise of more to come later. This time when you parted, you were able to pull back to allow Velvette to slide off the marble countertop, admittedly in a bit of a haze, your cheeks flushed. Using her phone camera, the influencer took a moment to check her makeup. Luckily it wasn’t too bad, nothing deserving of a touch-up, at least.

“We’ll continue this later, pretty girl.” Offering one last peck to your cheek, the overlord grabbed her keys from the counter. With a little show of blowing a kiss and a wink, Velvette turned towards the door, her hips swaying as she went.

Positively unfair, was what it was. 

You swore that one of these days you’d kill that television man yourself if he continued interrupting the two of you like this. At least you had the satisfaction of knowing that Velvette would lay into him the moment she walked through the doors of the Vee Tower.

[minniesmutt]

❤︎ ━━━ STREAMS

❤︎ ━━━ SS + WC: 5 + 1K

❤︎ ━━━  CW: EXHIBITIONNISM/VOYUERISM, MASTURBATION, SEX TOYS, LIVE SEX/LIVE STREAM

     Seungmin saw the tweet in the middle of his last class. Part of him was regretting having a night class right now. It had been a week since he and Ari had started talking but he felt like it had been longer. God how he wished he found her account sooner.

     He got antsy waiting for his class to end. He kept glancing at his phone and the clock on the wall, waiting for the time to change, but it just seemed to move slower. 

     There were a million things running through his head, especially since they had talked out their kinks. He knew from the photos on her Twitter she had a few sex toys and a lingerie collection. He’d caught himself jacking off a few times during the week to her photos. What was she wearing on the stream? Was she wearing anything? He was a little too desperate to find out. And he could feel it.

     ‘Ten more minutes and then a five-minute drive back home.’ he thought.

     Hyunjin was finishing up some paintings at the studio for his minor and let him know he would be home late. Usually, he’d use this time with his roommate away to make his own content but not tonight. 

     Part of him was about to risk it all to watch her until his professor said they were dismissed. He tried not to seem too hurried getting out of his class, blessing his oversized sweater from hiding his half-hard cock but the fabric of his jeans and boxers did little to make him feel comfortable. 

     He made his way out to his car, sighing in utter relief when he was locked away from the world. Just had to get back to his apartment and then he could relieve the pain of his erection. 

     He started his car and made his journey home as quickly and legally as he could. Then it was the short journey up to his apartment. 

     His phone in hand as he made his walk to her Twitter link she’d posted almost an hour ago  as he finally stepped into his apartment and locked the door. 

     Dropping his bag and kicking off his shoes as he adjusted his phone volume. Hastily making his way as the stream loaded finally. 

     His eyes widened as he took in what he was seeing. The camera was angled down in an above shot of the bed. Ari laid on her back with her legs up and spread open, like when a dog rolls over to have its belly rubbed, while her hands groped her breasts. He didn’t fail to notice the tagless dog collar, knee-high socks, and the thrusting toy between her legs. The camera cut off just above her collar. 

     “Shit,” Seungmin groaned, making quick work getting his jeans and boxers off— just enough to get his dick out. He was gonna try and get to the bed but that didn't seem like an easy feat right now. Settling for leaning against his bedroom door. 

     Finding a bit of relief when his hand finally wrapped around his hard cock, the other hand holding his phone as steady and tight as he could so he didn't drop it. 

     The moans she was making sounded very breathless and whiny, with the occasional fucked out “thank you” when she received a donation. He wondered just how long the toy had been fucking into her. Her legs were visibly shaking, from the stimulation or holding the position too long? He didn't know. He just knew he wanted her underneath him as he pumped his neglected cock, almost in time with the toy unconsciously.

     He watched her hands move from her nipples to grab the back of her thighs, pulling her legs down to her chest. He noticed just how wet she and the toy were now. He wanted to taste her so desperately at the moment. Gripping harder as he worked up to the tip, slowly sinking down to sit on the floor. Standing seeming like to much of a chore at the moment. 

     “‘S too much. I’m gonna come…” she moaned

     He watched as another tip appeared on the screen before the toy sped up. He heard her little “thank you,” as her body shook again. The dildo on the end of the machine pumping in and out of her until she came again, squirting which seemed to make the chat he was barely paying attention too go wild. He saw a few user names claiming one more before she ended the stream. Everyone seeming to want to make her squirt again and Seungmin would be lying to himself if he didn’t wanna see it again too.

     Tips came flooding in then and the toy picked up speed again before she had a chance to come down fully. The noises she was making and what he was seeing was enough to get him to cum. White fluid shooting out from his tip, some hitting the floor in front of him and some just running down to his hand.

     He breathed out a heavy sigh as he took in his high. Still listening to her whines on the screen before the toy slowed down to a stop after she came once more for the viewers. His eyes glanced down at the screen. 

     Her body shook as her legs fell to the side, giving the camera a perfect view of her body while her hands lay next to her head. Chest moving up and down. He couldn't tell for sure but he had a sense her cunt was twitching from the orgasms. 

     “Thank you for coming everyone,” Y/n giggled a bit before saying goodbye and turning off her stream. 

     Seungmin took in a breath before getting up and cleaning himself and the floor up. Still thinking about what he watched. He had a feeling he was in deep shit from here on out. 

     Then another thought occurred to him once he fully came back to his senses as he laid back in his bed.

     He could swear he’s heard those moans before. Just couldn't quite pin where

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[yopossum]

NEVER LET ME GO

Main Masterlist - Ao3

Summary: Loving, reverent domestic smut with sweet, submissive Ezra. A oneshot.

Rating: E

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x Reader

•••••••••• detailed warnings below the cut!! ••••••••••

Warnings: SMUT; no plot that’s it just porn but with FEELINGS; sub!Ezra; established relationship; super duper in love; domestic fluff; comfort; gratuitous pet names; praise kink; body worship; body hair; grinding; breast and nipple play; teasing/edging if you squint; light bondage; riding; PIV; no condom (there’s come y’all); religious language and imagery as literary device; Ezra the human thesaurus; prose gettin purple; making grown men whine and cry; reader is not gendered, has breasts and a vulva/vagina, is described as having puffed nipples and dimpled thighs, can straddle Ezra, but no coloring, size, appearance, age, or ability is otherwise noted; Ezra is an amputee and healed and we love it (no gore or trauma or background re: his arm); but I did write this because I was watching Prospect without actually watching and was inspired by *~*those sounds*~* out of context tho; Beatrice is not reader’s name, just a nerdy Dante reference; I stole this title from Florence Welch; old person on tumblr; is this spacing wack?; not a beta in sight; 18+ only no minors

Listen: Florence + The Machine’s “Never Let Me Go”

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••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Panting, Ezra blinked hard, stinging brow sweat running out his deep, hooded eyes and into the creases at their corners.

“My treasure,” he rasped, “please.” He clenched his teeth and swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple sliding up and down the length of his taut, tanned neck. He lay splayed on his back on the mattress while you straddled his narrow waist, his wrist lightly restrained with a strip of fabric knotted to the head of the bed. His eyes remained closed tight, delicate black lashes fanned over high, flushed cheekbones.

“Patience, darling boy. Be good for me.” You poked punctuation with the firm point of your tongue deep into the dip at the base of his throat, tasting the shallow pool of salted desperation that collected there as Ezra writhed underneath you. He was so rarely speechless, but at the mercy of your ministrations, the typical thesaurus of his mind was muted by melodic, crackling whimpers.

You flattened your warm wet tongue to the golden throb of Ezra’s neck, laved it from the right slice of his collarbone up along his jugular to the silky soft patch of skin behind his ear, swirling gently around the faded inked green flower there before sucking his lobe into your hot mouth and biting gently. Ezra keened, his hips bucking involuntarily as his spine curled in on itself.

Sitting back and upright astride his firm body, you ground down subtle and slow against his straining length. “I thought you were going to behave, beautiful,” you smirked down at him. A shattered wail tumbled from his plush parted lips and landed heavy in your cunt, the thrum radiating out from your core like ripples in a pond. You rolled your hips languidly again, tipping your pelvis forward and dragging through the thatch of coarse dark curls at his root. The delicious friction made your clit pulse greedily and you tilted your chin back and breathed a sigh like heady birdsong.

Ezra’s wavering tolerance cracked with a cry. He yanked at the smooth silk tie that looped his wrist, loosed it enough to slip from, allowing him to wrap his strong arm around your waist and yank you forward, your slick sex sliding a sloppy kiss against the soft swell of his lower belly. Your breasts fell pendent over his heaving chest, and Ezra’s eyes on them were a bottomless sea, fathomless agate brown and shimmering like moonlight with unshed tears. He looked up reverently, eyebrows furrowed, rosebud mouth falling open pleadingly.

“My divinity, my light, my Beatrice…” he croaked in a ragged whisper, his voice rough around the purple prose. Ezra’s rhythmic breaths were a fervent prayer as he supplicated to the heaven of your chest. “Relieve me of my agony, this exquisite anguish, I beg of you.”

You leaned forward further, pressing your lips to his crown like a blessing, pulling back only slightly to brush a wet white-blonde curl from his clammy skin before returning your forehead to his and closing your eyes. Ezra fought to stay still, but his cock throbbed furiously where it was squeezed between your bodies. Against his will, a silky drop of precome leaked from the fat tip of him, finding home in the slit of his belly button, and the whole of his strong, solid body quivered with need.

You looked down again, and oh. Ezra’s pupils were blown wide, his gaze impossibly dark and rich, dripping with the rawest, rarest awe. His pink tongue darted out and he gulped. “Please.”

You nodded, and before you could find the words to grant him verbal permission, Ezra lurched forward and took one puffed nipple into the soft heat of his hungry mouth. He teased it between his teeth, scraping gently, before swirling his tongue around the peak and suckling. Your breath hitched and Ezra moaned around you, sucking once more before releasing you.

“I do swear,” and he planted a kiss on your breastbone, interrupting himself. “There is,” he murmured, nosing a second kiss into the heavy underside of one breast, “no known embrocation…” He repeated the action on the other breast. “No salve,” as he pressed his teeth to the upper swell of the left, “nor balm...” A testing bite on the right made you suck in sharply. “That can soothe the weariness in my soul,” he ruminated. He traced a wide circle with the tip of his nose around your dark areola before opening his mouth over it, his tongue cradling the heft of you, and breathed his words into your skin. “None that can compare to the solace I find when I sink into your perfect bosom.” He closed his lips around your nipple and sucked again, eyes fluttering in sated delight, luxuriating in the feel of your swollen bud on his tongue. Your cunt clenched, petal-soft folds hugging along the underside of his shaft, and you hissed in tandem at the sensation.

“Now, Ezra,” you tutted, chastising reluctantly. Taking his face between your hands, you pulled him off your breast with a pop, watching his expression transform to a needy pout as you encouraged his face up to meet yours. “I didn’t say I was finished with you yet, my star. Don’t be hasty.” Your palms held firm along his jaw, fisting into the ebony curls at the nape of his neck, while your thumbs rubbed through his scratchy stubble, and he simpered apologetically.

Your playfully admonishing look softened, and you smiled down at him. “There he is. You’re so good, dove,” you hummed, pressing your lips tenderly to the heart-shaped bare patch near the corner of his mouth. Ezra closed his eyes, preening. You peppered his perfect face with small attentions as you praised him. “So sweet for me.” A buss to his boyish dimple. “So brave,” to the thin white scar on his cheekbone. “So clever and charming,” to the laugh lines feathering around his eyes. “So gentle and kind,” to the twin creases between his eyebrows. “And so, so lovely,” to the strong bridge of his classical nose. “My angel,” to the cherubic cleft of his plump lower lip. “My Ezra.” You slotted your mouth with his and kissed him slowly, savoring his delicate sigh before knotting your fingers in his tousled waves and bringing him ever closer.

Ezra’s hand moved from its place around your waist to your head, his broad palm cradling the side of your face while he ran a wide thumb along your cheekbone as he deepened the kiss, licking indulgently into you. The pads of his fingers rubbed rough circles on your neck, twisting your hair into rings around his thick knuckles.

Open mouths slid against each other, growing heated and harder, spit-slick and lewd, lips swelled with bruising force of each kiss and bite. Ezra shifted his weight to sit more upright, scooting back slightly and straightening his spine against the headboard, sliding his painfully hard cock back down your slit and nudging at your dripping entrance, forcing a low moan from the depths of your throat. “Rhapsody,” he murmured, breathless, and he crashed another desperate kiss to your face.

“You’ve done so well, precious one,” you cooed into him, unraveling his hand from your hair and placing it at the flare of your waist. “So good for me.” You gripped Ezra’s shoulders for balance and recentered yourself on his lap, kneeling, caging him in between the dimpled plush of your thighs and rocking your dripping center firmly into the cradle of his hips. His abdominals seized and he gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring as he tried to calm himself for you. Letting your hand slide lovingly down his right arm, you trailed a finger over the blunt end of his residual limb, delicately tracing along the lines of the scars there before lifting his arm alongside your face and nuzzling into him affectionately.

“You deserve every good thing, Ezra. This world and every other.” You kissed him softly at the end of his arm and continued up along the cut of his bicep, over the round of his deltoid, along the slope of his shoulder, and rested your open mouth at his pounding pulse point. “If I could, I’d give you everything.” Pressing your body flush against his torso, you began circling your hips down against him. His body was shaking with restraint, perspiration beading at his temples when you lifted your lips to the shell of his ear. “I’d give you everything, but all I have to give you is myself, and so I will. I am yours, my love.”

Ezra rutted up into you with a shivering howl and you smothered it at the source with an achingly passionate kiss. All control abandoned, he grabbed the meat of your hip and dug his fingers in deep, canting his hips to slip himself frantically through your wetness. You snaked a hand between your bodies to swirl the pearl of your clit before dipping two fingers deep inside yourself. You plunged them in and out, curling them against that soft spongy coral of your wall until they were coated in you, and in a single movement withdrew them and wrapped a tight fist around Ezra’s thick cock, spreading your slick over the feverish velvet skin. Angling your fist to position him properly, you pressed your nose into his and looked directly into his glimmering lust-glazed eyes, punctuating each word with a long firm stroke. “I. Am. Yours.”

Ezra pushed inside your heat with a staggering thrust and a wheeze. You slammed down onto him, crying out at the burning stretch, your hands suddenly scrambling for purchase again on his broad shoulders. He buried his face into the well of your collar and growled at the blistering vice of your pussy, straining to hold back to allow you a few seconds to adjust to his size. You met his lips again and let him slide his tongue lazily into your mouth as you slowly lifted yourself off his shaft until only the thick head remained in your channel. You dropped back down onto his cock with a shivering exhale, taking him all the way to the hilt.

Ezra worked into a smooth but brutal rhythm and you met his thrusts in earnest, your thighs burning as you rode him while he slammed up over and over again into the deepest part of you. You could feel you both rapidly unraveling as he held you tight, pressing you down into his pelvic bone and grinding against your sensitive clit while you gasped into each other.

Ezra planted his feet flat on the mattress for leverage and punched up into you urgently, pace starting to falter as his breaths turned jagged and shallow. “I have been,” he huffed sharply, “an aimless and indulgent vagabond.” He choked down air as if drowning. “A derelict wastrel, a wretched… grunt… ne’er-… grunt… do-well.” Ezra ranted, half-conscious in his carnal frenzy like a shark in blood, dragging his mouth and tongue over your body wherever he could reach as cunt-drunk ramblings poured from him.

You felt yourself careening toward your release, spots clouding the edges of your vision, and attempted to ground yourself to Ezra, pushing your face into the crook of his neck and breathing him in, salty and sun-drenched and woody, the tang of sweat baked by his radiant heat, creating something resinous and animalic and ambrette and intoxicating.

“You are an oasis. A… font… of renewal,” he gritted against you, thrusts sloppy as you groaned and wound against him, ready to hurl yourself from your peak. “In you,” he whined, pained, “I am a man remade. Let this poor wretch, oh, fuck, be cleansed, fuck, in your waters.” Ezra nearly wept now. “Please, redeem me. Drag me under.”

You fell apart around him, coming hard with a loud shout of his name, the roof of your mouth tingling and vision blurring with each crashing wave of your orgasm, scrambling to hold on as Ezra frantically chased his own salvation. You chanted your devotions in precious promises against his throat. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m yours, my beautiful boy, I’m yours.”

Ezra sobbed as he came, body wracked with convulsions as he spilled violently into you, rope after impossible rope of white hot spend a libertine absolution. He leaned back, pulling you forward with him, and continued to pump weakly and intermittently, mewling at the oversensitivity as his come began to seep out around his softening cock, dripping down where your bodies joined, into the muscled cleft of his ass and soaking into the sheets underneath.

When his movements finally stilled, he let his arms fall back and open over the mattress with a quavering sigh, like he meant to make a snow angel in the soiled linens, a few errant tears slipping out into the furrows at the corners of his eyes. You crawled up his chest and tucked yourself tight into his side, wrapping his short strong arm around you and nestling into the sweat-matted hair at his armpit, blissfully ignoring the heavy blanket of still, sticky air that hung in the room. You rested a palm on his smooth, freckled chest, and he covered it entirely with his own massive hand.

Ezra was never silent for long. After a moment, he took your hand from his chest and brought your knuckles to his soft lips. “I am eternally indebted to you and the… vast expanse of your benevolence,” he chuckled softly, still catching his breath. “And I am forever grateful that you have made a happy home for this prodigal son in your boudoir.” The tip of his tongue poked out to wet the cleave of his lip. You smirked and thumbed it open, and he licked at you playfully before giving your fingers a soft nip.

“Thank you for letting me take care of you, little bird,” you lilted, the quiet words full to bursting with adoration. “And I meant what I said.” You took his scruffed chin pointedly and turned his bashful, blushing face to yours. “I would give you everything, if I could.” He exhaled, eyes falling closed as he let himself be momentarily overwhelmed with your affection, pulled into the sea of it. He swallowed wetly, his throat bobbing as he cleared it.

“Oh, beloved,” Ezra purred, low and warm. “You have.”

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[circe69]

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥! - 𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

❤︎ simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader ❤︎ wc: 2.4k ❤︎tw: mentions of gore, suggestive ❤︎ tags - snowy valentines, heavy making out, pining, drunk confessions, aggressive!simon, but sweet as well :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"You know today's Valentine's Day, right L.T?" Your words slurred together like pudding, and Ghost could smell the faint scent of whiskey, along with the remnants of some strawberry dessert, on your breath as he leaned down to hear you better.

He'd brought you up to the rooftop from the raging party downstairs, figuring it be easier to avoid any questions from Soap or Price about just why the two of you were standing so close. He looked up, stretching and rolling his neck from side to side, and was taken back by just how clear the sky was. It'd been months since he'd been able to make out any sort of constellation, and just about everyone had gotten used to the gunpowder-filled clouds and polluted air, but Ghost hadn't.

"What about it?" He said firmly, looking down at you and watching how you ever so slightly fisted the hem of his t-shirt in your hands, and every so often, your knuckles would graze the skin of his stomach, making his whole-body tense.

You smiled, your doe eyes and dilated pupils staring up at him with the most drunken affection that he'd seen in a while, "Do you have anyone?" You bit down on your chapstick-doused lips, enjoying the slight cherry flavor. Ghost watched you work; he could almost feel your tongue moving around on his just by watching your lick your lips.

He sighed, not annoyed, but a little anxious. He just didn't know how to act around you, he didn't know why you made him feel so different from everyone else. It'd been years since he had a friend, let alone a woman, an attractive one no doubt, clawing at him for more, practically begging for him to just pick her up and take her to a random closet to show her just how much he was willing to give. At this point, Ghost couldn't care less about the fact that you'd forget most of this in the morning. He loved the way you made him feel, even if there was a chance you didn't mean it.

"You're drunk, soldier." He gently pried your wandering hands off his body as you grimaced at the fact that he just called you soldier. You whined in response, hands instinctively shooting up to hug him around his neck, and Ghost allowed it, because he wanted it so badly. He wanted you so badly.

"Come on, just tell me already! You're no fun when you keep secrets." You were practically hanging off of him, your toes barely touching the ground, and even though he could've wrapped himself around you and lifted you up even higher, his hands stayed in fists planted at his sides. You leaned even closer to whisper,

"Do you have a valentine or not?"

A small smile stretched across Ghost's face, and for once, he was actually thankful for that thin piece of fabric covering it. Precious, he thought. You were the one thing that could unlock Simon's buried affection, and whether you knew it or not, you were the ticket to making his entire being feel better. He was bloodthirsty on the field, a man-killing machine known for his deceitful tactics and disgusting tricks for cracking a neck just right, but it disappeared in your presence. Not because he had to hide it, but because he would just much rather focus on you, the most perfect thing, right in front of him.

Ghost's hands hesitantly moved to the small of your back, but then slowly dropped them again before raising one to pinch the bridge of his nose as you let go of his neck, crossing your arms in annoyance at the fact that he just won't grab you.

"I know you're pouting because I'm not paying much attention to you, but I have to be gentle with you for now. You've had drinks, yeah? Maybe a few too many. Even if I wanted to, I can't touch you."

You looked up at him, the grimace resting on your face was a little more relaxed, "But" you started, "Do you want to?"

Ghost looked back at you, and his lungs felt like they'd burst into flames if you spoke one more sentence in that voice, the voice that's dripping with desire and demand, for him and only him. He whispered, "Of course I do. Of course, I want to touch you, I want to touch every part of you." His voice grew louder at the end of his words, making your eyes widen at the volume.

"Just because I'm being gentle right now, doesn't mean I always will. The things I want to have happen, the things I want to do to you, aren't sweet things. They aren't nice, they wouldn't be beautiful or sentimental. I wouldn't be careful. Do you understand?"

You craned your neck up at him, in a certain way that made your cheek bones shine perfectly from the dim light of the moon.

"I understand, Lieutenant," your voice was nothing more than a quiet sigh.

"Get some sleep. Tomorrow's role call is an hour earlier," Ghost said as he started to walk back to the door to the stairs, "Be there."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You groaned in pain as an alarm rang through your room, off the walls and into your ears. Every part of you hurt, from your toes to your shoulders. I couldn't have done that much, right? You thought, slowly slipping out of your covers and top quilt before walking to the bathroom.

6 AM, and for what? Breakfast and a flag? Couldn't they wait an hour? I sure could. Your hair wasn't as dirty as you'd thought it be, thankfully, and it was easy to manage into a tight bun before tugging on boots and a warm winter coat and heading to the main hall. As you walked, crunching on a small layer of snow with every step, you tried to think back to last night. What even happened? You were kicking yourself, because you knew this would be the case. It happens every time. You're just more of a lightweight than you'd like to admit, and you remember it every morning after you drink.

You could remember the rooftop, being escorted up there by none other than Ghost, which wasn't out of the ordinary, but there were some parts of your conversation that just didn't make sense. It was all a blur but, there was something about being gentle? And Ghost mentioning that, sure he's being gentle now, but if you let him, he'd be the farthest thing from gentle with you.

But there was no way that happened. Fever dreams, drunk dreams, they're all the same. They're all vivid, and scarily accurate, but fake, nonetheless.

Once you arrived at the hall, a wooden door creaked open upon your entrance, along with the sound of your boots hitting the floor in attempt to shake the ice off. The room was packed to the brim with people, rescue dogs that didn't behave, and squeaking chairs moving round for roll call. Hot coffee was being poured and whistling kettles being turned off for tea were some of your favorite smells in the world. The dim fluorescent lighting woke you up fully, and if it were any brighter, it may have set you over the edge. No matter how hungover you were, snowy mornings were like a restart.

You made your way down the precise middle aisle, eyeing an open chair by Ghost and speedwalking to grab it before anyone else.

Once you sat down, you started shedding your large coat and draped it behind you. Ghost finally noticed and took a double take once he saw just who was sitting next to him.

Somehow, by some crazy unearthly miracle, even after a terrible hangover, you were still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He was almost frustrated at this point; you looked like you'd never drank a day in your life. Your hair was perfectly pinned, clothes beautifully ironed, which allowed for every curve to be hugged like a glove and shown off to every man in the room.

Ghost was borderline salivating. You smelled like you always did, lavender; and your morning voice as you said hello to him was just raspy enough to make him crazy, almost like crackling firewood. Even in the snowy, freezing weather, just by you being there, he felt perfectly warm.

"Morning," he said back, adjusting his pants that had somehow shrunk a few inches since you took your place by him.

The cup of coffee in his hand looked minuscule compared to the one in yours, which let your mind wander to other places, thinking about things that you shouldn't be. Like how small your body would feel enclosed in arms, and how those very same hands that were inches away from yours could destroy you within seconds.

Before you knew it, one of Ghost's arms raised and placed itself on the back of your chair, making you dizzy just at the contact. His skin wasn't even on yours, but you could feel the weight of his heavy forearm on the chair, and the way it gently ruffled the sleeves on your shirt. His breath was closer, practically pouring down the side of your neck, which made you automatically lean in closer to him. You could feel your heartbeat and was sure he could see it popping out of your chest every second.

"Hey," he whispered in your ear, making your eyes flutter at the deep tone speaking from a mouth inches away from you.

"If I left, would you follow me out?"

You looked at him, eyes wandering all over his face until resting in deep eye contact. You could tell all he needed was one word, one nod, and he'd stand up.

"Yes," you whispered. Breathed, more like.

Ghost stood, his height growing like a giant tree, from his seat and stomped out of the large dining room, and into a small hallway towards the back. You discreetly watched every move, every step he took, every nod he gave to the unsuspecting soldiers, and the exact turn he took to start his descent in the hallway.

You sat for a minute before moving. I could just stay, avoid any unnecessary confrontation, and tell him he misheard me, you thought. Your legs fidgeted for a few more seconds, trying to decide, but in reality, your answer from the start was genuine.

You shot up, faster than you intended, and started walking in the same path that Ghost did. Nodding to the soldiers, shooting smiles and quietly opening a door that led you into the same dark hallway that he entered.

There were a few small windows lining the hall, and the snow falling made it seem brighter than it was. You walked a few paces slowly down the walkway, looking in empty rooms and peeping your head in open doors, wondering where he could've gone.

All the sudden, when you were looking towards the opposite direction, a strong pair of gloved hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled your body into a room before slamming the door with his foot and pinning you to the back of it.

Ghost's face was inches away from yours, "Mm, finally," he groaned, his hands desperately running over and under pieces of your clothing. He tugged at hemlines, the belt loops of your pants, anything he could grab to signal he wanted more, and he hadn't even started yet.

"Finally?" You teased, trying not to whimper at the feeling of his hands squeezing the meat of your thigh, "You act like you've been waiting for this or something." Your words got breathier with every second, and so did his. All he did was hum in agreement, words weren't ever truly necessary for him, especially when he'd rather communicate in touch.

He quickly lifted up his mask just enough so his lips were available to you, and you took the opportunity to utilize them as fast as you could. Once you saw them, plump and slightly wet lips, your eyes drowned in the sight of them. Your arms shot up to his neck, and you pulled him down to your level so you could kiss him properly.

It wasn't sweet like a first kiss, or something that you'd want to take a picture of and frame it, it was like a secret. His mouth opening against yours, the air between you mixing like it was never meant to separate, the two of you were hungry, hungry for each other and only each other. The pads of his fingers rubbed your collarbone, making you shiver underneath his calloused touch, and he loved it. His tongue gently massaged yours, sliding his lips back and forth and your teeth gently bit down on his lip slowly before the two of you broke the kiss and slowly opened your eyes again.

Ghost moaned against his closed mouth, shutting his eyes before resting his head in the crook of your neck. His long arms wrapped around you as if you were a present from Christmas, something that he'd always wanted but never believed he'd get. He almost needed a breather from the aftermath of it all. He couldn't stop, and he knew he'd never stop for as long as you were in arms reach.

"Do you remember last night?" He said from his spot in your neck, to which you started to nod. "Too much to not be slightly embarrassed forever."

You could feel his chest vibrate against yours from the huff of air he let out, and after he lifted his head to meet yours again, straightening his posture to tower over you, "Ask it again." He demanded as his hand planted itself behind your head on the door.

The smile on your lips was enough to make his knees buckle, all it did was remind him that every part about you was made beautifully, was made to its most perfect potential.

You sighed before rolling your eyes slightly and dropping your head in your hands for a minute out of embarrassment, "Do you have a valentine, Lieutenant?"

Ghost allowed himself to just bask in the silence, to soak in what you just said like a warm bath. How wonderful, that he was able to hear you say that same question twice?

"Yes, I do," he started, before taking your hand in his and carefully kissing the center of your palms, "And I think I'm set for life."

[sstormyskyess]

Hello lovely moot! Can I send a request? Need some more Gaz content please, there’s not enough as we well know. How about something steamy, stolen kisses and an intimate moment when the rest of the team are busy elsewhere. Gotta keep it quiet so no one catches you in the act and blows the secret. Happy with your choice of reader gender identity but top Gaz please 🖤🖤🖤

Undercover

author's note: hi beloved moot and fellow gaz lover!! i will always write gaz content til the day i die, i will populate the gaz x reader tag myself if i have to 💜 thank you for the request!! [and apologies for the wait, finals season is kicking my ass 🥱]

cw: smut, semi-public sex, fingering, unsafe sex [wrap it before you tap it!]

word count: 2100+

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick / Fem!Reader

Gaz had been getting on your nerves for the past hour now. He must be pent up from the last mission; there would be no other reason for him to be practically begging for your attention when he had plenty of other things to focus on. Mainly, the mission brief that was currently being held. The one that would be dictating the strategies you would be employing for the next mission.

But instead of taking in that crucial information, Gaz was squeezing and kneading at the meat of your thighs under the table. You shoot him yet another glare but his eyes remain forward, albeit unfocused. Your face was warming up exponentially, despite the cold winter air drifting in through the door.

“Soap, Ghost. This is need to know, follow me.” Price nodded to the door and all three of them left the room, leaving just you and Gaz in the makeshift meeting room that had been fashioned in the safehouse. Your gaze snaps to Gaz, a frown on your face. “What is wrong with you?!” You whisper-yell, your face heated up all the way down to your shirt collar.

He puts his hands up defensively, a cocky smile playing at his features. “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart.” You groan, rolling your eyes and rubbing your hands over your face to calm yourself down enough to not strangle him half to death on the spot. “Were you paying attention to the brief at all?” You groan, exasperated by his antics.

Any further protests you were planning on raising were swiftly cut short by Gaz’s lips on yours, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip. You latch your hand to his shoulder, gripping tight and trying to push him off, your frustration fighting to keep your desires under control. He only deepens the kiss, leaning over you and pushing you back against the table. Ultimately, the heat between your legs won out, your body letting him lay you on the old wooden table, covered in important documents that most certainly weren’t meant to be tampered with or damaged in any way.

You let out a little whine into his mouth as his hands started to palm at your chest through your clothes, the soft plush of your breasts squishing under his touch. His hands slip into your sweater, pushing your bra upwards to get better access to your warm skin and perked up nipples. It doesn’t take long for him to lean down and shove his head under the hem of your shirt and wrap his soft lips around one of your hardened buds.

You gasp, grabbing onto his head through the thick fabric making up your sweater. “Gaz, they’re right outside!” You squeak, wiggling in his grasp. He just continues his cruel machinations, pulling you closer even though he was already practically laying on top of you. “I guess we better stay quiet then, yeah?” His voice is muffled by both your skin and the cover of your sweater over his head.

He holds your hips tight to stop your squirming before his fingers start to unbuckle your belt and slip the hem of your cargo pants down. They get shucked off, falling to the ground in a heap, leaving you in only your sweater and your underwear. Your legs instinctively try to close to stave off the cold air against your dampened panties, but Gaz catches them before they can.

He licks his lips at the sight of the wet spot your pussy had created on the soft fabric covering it up, a near ravenous glint in his eyes. He had to force himself to calm down, though; he didn’t have time to bury his face between your legs until your legs were shaking. That would have to wait for later. But he needed you, now.

You let him pull your panties to the side and glide his fingers along your slit, a shiver going down your spine at the feeling. “God, you’re soaked, love.” He smiles to himself, slipping one of his fingers inside, another fitting in beside the first quickly. You bite down on your bottom lip, barely able to suppress the needy moan that bubbles up at the way his digits wormed their way into your tight heat.

He starts to pump his fingers in and out, your hips twitching upwards in response with a sharp inhale. “Fuck—!” You slap your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your eyes darting to the door for fear of the other three returning and seeing you in this position. Gaz would have none of that, he decided before he grabbed your chin with his other hand and turned your eyes back toward him. “Eyes on me, darling, c’mon.”

Your breath hitches at the hungry look he gives you. You look him over through the fog slowly clouding your brain, taking note of the straining of his pants trying to hold his aching cock back. You’re brought back to reality when his fingers press against that spot that only he can reach, your back arching off the table. The spongy flesh melds around his middle and ring finger, a sharp jolt of pleasure shooting through you. You whine, wiggling under his touch. “Gaz, just hurry up!”

Gaz simply smirks, finally undoing his belt and pulling the zipper of his pants down with his free hand, the outline of his bulge visible behind the fabric of his boxer briefs. You gasp when he pulls you toward the edge of the table, your core pressing up against his clothed cock. He grips your hips tightly, grinding into you and putting delightful friction on your clit through your underwear.

He takes a little while longer to work you open, his fingers spreading your walls open. You clench around them, a tiny whimper leaving your pursed lips. “Gaz, c’mon..!”

“You think you’re ready for me?” He taunts, his smug face making a wave of frustration roll through you. “Yes, I’m ready! Hurry, please!” You whine at him. He shakes his head, laughing quietly. “Alright, alright.”

He lets go of your hip to fish his cock out of his underwear, stiff and leaking at the tip. You bite your lip at the sight, watching him intently as he pumps himself a few times and milks a few more drops of his pre-cum out. Your eyes dart between that delicious sight and his face, feeling your cheeks warm.

You hardly notice his fingers sliding out of you and the head of his cock lining up with your pussy, gliding through your folds. Before you know it, he’s pressing into you, stretching you open. It rips a moan from your lips, a moan that’s just a little too loud.

He jerks up to put his palm over your mouth and continues pushing himself inside. The rest of the moans you let out are muffled by his hand, and he chuckles imagining how loud you would be if he let you sing for him out loud. Maybe later tonight. “You know how much I love your voice, but you have to stay quiet, sweetheart.”

You shoot a glare at him, your eyes shouting at him, ‘If you didn’t want to get caught, why did we do this in the first place,’ but your wordless complaints are stifled when he starts moving his hips. Your back arches at the pace he sets off the jump; it’s obvious he was done playing around now, something about being enveloped in your wet cunt fully awakening his desires.

You cry out behind his hand, putting your own hand over his in an attempt to subdue your own voice more than it already was. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix over and over, the pressure in the pit of your stomach building up with each thrust. He leans over you, hands firmly planted on the table, hitting a different angle than before. A better angle.

Kyle grazes across your sweet spot, your entire body jumping in response. You practically scream his name into the palm of his hand, your eyes rolling back. “Fuuuck…” He groans at the way you tighten around him, his hips stuttering before continuing his quick pace. You whine, hips canting upwards to meet his thrusts.

Your eyes widen when he removes his hand while you were mid-moan, your own hand slapping over your mouth to replace his. He doesn’t let it stay there for long, though; he takes your wrist and pulls it away from your face, leaning down to put his lips on yours in a heated kiss. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth to dance with your own, covering up your lewd noises.

The table legs scrape along the floor with every one of his thrusts. You claw at his back through his shirt, tugging on it. “Gaz—” You have to bite your lip to stop your words from devolving into a moan, before continuing, “S-Slow down, they’re gonna hear us—!” You squeak when all he responds with is a particularly rough thrust.

“D-Don’t care if they hear, fuck—need to feel you cum on my cock, c’mon, do it,” He mutters and starts pulling you into his thrusts, groaning at the feeling of your pussy clenching down on him as you neared your climax.

He takes a moment to lean back and look over your body, a slight sheen of sweat gracing your skin and your eyes glassy. You feel his cock twitch inside you and your hips jerk; you stifle your whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer, desperate to finally cum.

“Christ, love,” He pants, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “You’re so fuckin’ tight—” He bites into his fist, groaning into it. His hand shakes as he drags it to your clit, rubbing quick little circles into your sensitive nub. Your hands fly up to cover your mouth and muffle the string of moans that leaves you as your orgasm finally hits.

Gaz braces his hands on the table’s surface, nearly collapsing under the overwhelming feeling of the walls of your tight cunt fluttering as you cum. It only takes a couple more pumps of his cock for him to finish, his cum sending a pleasantly warm feeling through your body and eliciting a moan from you, not caring about the volume anymore.

Your breath shudders as you try to regain your bearings, your mind a bit fuzzy. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, You suck in a quick breath when he pulls out, your cunt oversensitive from his relentless onslaught he laid into it. He smiles and leans down to kiss you sweetly, his hands caressing your sides.

You sit up after a few moments, noticing that Gaz had pulled your panties back in place. You grimace and sigh when you feel him leaking out of you, which is bound to get the seat of your pants wet. You hoped at least you’d be able to escape somewhere to change soon.

“Are you satisfied now?” You grumble, sliding off the table and attempting to hide the way your legs were shaking. He just chuckles, kissing you on the cheek with a smile on his lips. “I am. At least until later tonight.” He plants another kiss behind your ear. “Thank you, love.”

You roll your eyes and playfully push him away, smoothing down your sweater and pulling your cargo pants back up, but not before Gaz grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes. He laughs when you squeak and swat his hand away, your cheeks puffed as you frown. “Stop that! And put your dick away, they're bound to come back in here any minute now.”

He does as you ask and tucks his softening cock away, zipping up his trousers. “Looking forward to later tonight, sweetheart,” he says with a cheeky little grin.

Soap leans against the wall next to the door to their makeshift briefing room, chuckling quietly to himself. Ghost and Price were less than amused, but they could at least acknowledge the absurdity of the situation. They left for five minutes and you and Gaz managed to get into each other’s pants within that short span of time.

“Remind me why we aren’t going back inside?” Ghost grumbles, arms crossed. Price shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not interested in seeing my sergeants shagging like dogs in heat, Simon.”

Soap hides a louder laugh behind his fist, taking a second to compose himself. “Come on, L.T., no need to ruin their fun.” He barely held back the overpowering urge to reach over a few inches and jiggle the door handle just to spook the two of you. Just barely. Ghost rolls his eyes. “Should’ve picked a better time to have their fun, then.” He huffs.

“It’ll be fine. I can tell them off later.” Price chuckles at Ghost’s drawn out, dramatic sigh and patiently waits for the sound of squealing table legs to quiet down.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[planet-dusk]

absolutely need you to elaborate more perv!chan i just can't stop thinking about it

🏷️ perversion, panty stealing, masturbation, possessive and obsessive behavior

chan knows it’s wrong.

he knows it’s wrong but he can’t stop himself from doing it: pocketing your panties from the laundry basket whenever he gets the chance. 

he only takes one pair every two months to avoid suspicion. (he isn't stupid—the washing machine eats his socks all the time. imagine what it does to a flimsy piece of frilly lace.)

the lacy ones are his favorite because you only wear them to dates. he knows because you told him. you tell him everything. like that one time you drunkenly confessed they’re kinda uncomfortable but you still wear them because they make you feel confident, and you think men prefer pretty lingerie. 

chan had wanted to tell you to wear anything you want. he doesn’t care. those plain cotton panties he’s stolen once or twice would look just as stunning on you. 

instead he’d downed the rest of his drink, nodded, and left you giggling in minho’s arms like the stupid fool he is. 

but the lacy ones smell the best, too; the musky scent of your arousal still clinging to the fabric. it makes his gut twist in anger and desire. he can’t bear the thought of someone else getting you wet but he thanks them all the same for bestowing him with such a precious gift.  

in his mind’s eye he’s the one who gets to peel them off of you, his hand finding his swollen cock as he pictures your lingerie-clad body. he’d tease the tips of his fingers over your clothed slit until the fabric is soaked through, strings of your arousal sticking to it when he finally slides them down your thighs. 

on some days he likes to pretend to tease you a little more; pushing his cock through one of the leg holes and thrusting his tip between your dripping cunt and the lace until you’re begging him to fuck you. you’d be so needy. he knows exactly how it sounds, too, because he’s memorized your moans. they drift through the thin walls of your shared apartment whenever you have someone over. 

chan likes it when someone makes you feel good. you deserve it. at least that’s the lie he tells himself. 

but he’s a terrible liar and he can’t ignore the pang of jealousy piercing his chest every time he sees someone else’s shoes at the door. meanwhile he has to settle for fucking his own fist with your panties stuffing his mouth because he knows you’ll never view him as anything else but your roommate. and why would you? he’ll never have the guts to confess. and if you discover his dirty secret you’ll throw him out of the house for being a fucking creep. and rightfully so. 

it’s repulsive and immoral but he can’t stop even if guilt consumes him. it’s not about the act of stealing them or about the addictive feeling of the lace grazing his sensitive skin. it’s about claiming a part of you. if he can’t have you then at least let him have this: the blurred silhouette of your figure in his mind and your scent surrounding him. 

fuck, chan wants so you bad. wants your taste on his lips and your pretty cunt around his cock. the faintest hint of flavor left on the lace isn’t enough to satisfy his appetite. he can’t stand you being everywhere; in his house, in his head, in his heart.

everywhere except his bed. chan wants to be yours, wants to drown in you, wants to fill you up and make you his. he rubs the fabric all over his skin until he doesn’t remember where he ends and you begin. 

his. you’re all his. he cums with a drawn out moan and your panties wrapped around his cock. his hips stutter, eyes rolling back at the sight of the defiled fabric. he can feel himself getting hard again with every sloppy stroke as he forces himself through overstimulation. he wants it to hurt. such an indecent act shouldn’t feel this fucking good, his pathetic cock twitching at the mere thought of you walking in on him. 

just one more, he tells himself like he does every time. then i’ll quit. forever. he wraps the soiled lace tighter around his cock and closes his eyes. 

liar.

[thewritingbeforesunrise]

Crave.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

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A/N: This started out as an Halloween prompt but morphed into something else entirely.

Today is my birthday. I never really enjoyed celebrating birthdays but this time I wanted to celebrate by gifting you one of my favourite things in the world.

So please enjoy this little fic about desperate whiny subby Jake.

I really can't help myself, as much as I adore mean dom Jake, my heart always leads me to picture him as an absolute whiny mess of a good boy.

He makes me want to ruin him.

This was hardly proofread, sorry for any mistakes.

Join the taglist here

Word count: 4.9K

Pairing: Jake x female!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, oral (m!receiving), anal play, rimming and digital penetration (m!receiving), toys, sub!jake.

Summary: You were mad at each other. What was the worst thing that could possibly happen?

________________________________

The sound of an old western playing on the TV in the living room was starting to get on your nerves as you tried to wrap your head about what you were planning to do.

Jake was sprawled on the sofa, freshly showered, with a throw blanket around his legs and his guitar on his lap.

He was strumming a lazy tune, taking turns between watching the TV and observing you as you worked and gradually lost your mind over the crazy project you had embarked upon because of him.

Jake knew you were fairly talented with the sewing machine, thanks to your grandmother who had taught you everything you needed to know to fix your own clothes.

So he had asked you if you could try to fix his beloved blue jeans that he hardly separated from.

He was basically asking you to perform an extreme rescue operation on them. They were so tattered and torn that you were afraid you would have to toss in the towel and admit defeat.

But Jake had become so attached to them that you really didn't want to let him down.

You had to try at least.

That's why you had spent the entire morning driving around and shopping for any kind of supplies you needed, to perform an action that would have made Doctor Frankenstein jealous.

You had spent the afternoon stitching and unstitching fabric and changing your mind about almost everything you did.

Now the sky was dark outside, your hands were starting to cramp and your fingers hurt from the amount of time you had pierced yourself with the needle. You were starting to lose your mind and on top of that you were starving.

Everything seemed to irritate you the further you went on.

The ticking of the clock on the wall, the buzzing noise of the fridge, the drip of the sink you had never managed to fix were driving you insane the more frustrated you became with the fabric.

But what infuriated you the most was in fact Jake.

He kept staring at you as if he wanted to say or do something. And he had been acting like that the entire day.

In the morning, you had woken up with his needy scorching hot body wrapped around yours and his lips on your neck. You were about to abandon yourself to him but then your eyes had fallen on the alarm clock. You were already late for your errands so with a heavy heart you had to push him away and get dressed quickly.

He had been pouting and huffing ever since that moment, like a child feeling neglected because his mum didn't buy him candies.

He got dressed in silence and even rejected the simple breakfast you offered him, slamming the car door and sighing loudly

When he understood that his behaviour wasn't having his desired effect with you, he decided to plot something else.

You saw the little smirk on his lips the moment the two of you entered the shop.

He disappeared.

You paid his absence no mind and asked the shop assistant about the fabric you were looking for and she motioned you towards a large table completely covered in rolls of said fabric in different colours and shades.

As the shop assistant showed you a roll of what you thought was the perfect choice, you felt Jake’s presence behind you.

He pressed you against the table with his hips, almost imperceptibly for anyone to notice but enough for letting you feel him, hot and hard against your ass.

You were about to ask him what he thought about that fabric when you felt his breathing close to your ear and shivered as he spoke with his raspy voice.

"I don't like it. It looks cheap" he whispered pressing his hips a bit more against yours and then pushing away altogether, succeding in distracting you and leaving your mind completely blank.

He made you turn three different shops completely upside down before deciding what he wanted. And in all three of them he acted like a little brat, pressing himself against you any chance he got and whispering filthy things into your ear that made you blush in front of the shop assistants.

"I wish she wasn't there, so I could press you against this table and make you scream and clench around this neglected cock of mine, angel" he whispered just as you were about to pay for the fabric.

"But maybe she enjoys watching," he continued.

That caused your card to almost slip from your hands and him to snicker in your ear at your clumsiness.

He even had the courage to reprimand you in front of the cashier.

"Careful angel. Here, take my card" he said, handing the cashier his card and succeding in making your blood boil.

So you decided to play his own game and do what irritated him the most.

You kept ignoring him.

Until now, that you needed him to try on his jeans and maybe make the final arrangements.

You had tried a different thing, since mending the rips was impossible without it showing.

You had basted a different layer of jeans fabric, in a slightly darker shade from the original light wash, covering almost the entire leg and creating a contrast that looked great in your opinion.

"Jake, can you come here for a second, please?" You called him from the kitchen.

He huffed and rolled his eyes before slowly placing his guitar on the sofa and standing up, coming into the kitchen and crossing his arm waiting.

You tried your best not to scoff at his behaviour but your hands were hitching for grasping his shoulders and pining him against the wall.

"What?" He asked you as if he really didn't want to be there.

You ignored him and went on as if you hadn't noticed his pout.

"Just try these on for me, I need to see if this fabric is well basted to the leg" you said motioning to the jeans you were holding.

He looked you in the eyes for a few seconds and then, with his eyes still boring holes into yours, he untied his black sweats and let them fall on the ground.

He stepped out of them and then took the jeans from your hands, slowly pulling them up for you to see.

When he had them on, a little smile broke the pout he was still wearing and you felt the tension in the room ease a little.

"Do you like them?" You asked observing how well they fitted him.

"Yeah, I think I do," he told you and smiled.

You noticed a little flaw in the way the two fabrics were basted on the inside of his knee.

"Just, let me check something" you said more to yourself than him, placing a hand on his tummy and pressing him gently against the wall behind him, before dropping to your knees in front of him.

Your fingers slowly reached the inside of his knee and brushed over the fabric.

He gasped and shivered at your touch as if he wasn't expecting that.

You looked up at him, worried.

He wasn't meeting your eyes, his jaw set.

You resumed what you were doing.

You noticed that the problem had affected most of the stitches in the inside of his leg so you turned around to grab the pins to fix it.

Your hand started to make its way upwards on the inside of his thigh towards his crotch.

He tensed at your touch and groaned when your fingers squeezed his muscle.

"Jake, what's wrong?" You asked a little worried.

"Nothing" he answered all too quickly for you to believe him, but you didn't say anything.

You resumed your work and inched your fingers further up his leg.

This time he whimpered and whispered your name.

Your eyes fixated on his face, scrunched up as if he was in pain and then moved downwards, finally becoming aware of the fact that his jeans were becoming tighter and tighter for him.

He twitched in his pants as he saw you were looking right at his crotch.

"Fuck, please" he whispered.

Again, you ignored him.

You started to unstitch the temporary white thread you had used and started to adjust the fabric with your pins.

At some point your fingers slipped and you accidentally stung him on the inside of his thigh.

He whimpered and his hands reached for you. One wrapped around your wrist and the other landed in your hair, caressing you gently.

"Please angel, please" he whispered.

"What do you need, Jake?" You whispered back looking him in the eyes.

"Please, i-it's been all day" he begged, almost whining, desperate.

You pitied him and broke your resolve.

You had tortured him enough.

After all, those big brown doe eyes of his had always been your greatest weakness.

He looked and sounded desperate and you wanted to make him feel good.

You kissed his clothed tummy and you felt his body relax.

His eyes fluttered closed and he whispered a little plea as you lifted his shirt to kiss his soft skin, just underneath his navel.

Your hands pressed on his thighs and you kept nipping and suckling a path down his tummy making him shiver.

You unbuttoned his jeans and slowly slid them a bit down his legs, just enough to expose the grey boxers he was wearing underneath.

His hands quickly reached up to get rid of that item of clothing but you stopped him immediately.

You grasped his wrists and made him place his hands on the wall.

"Keep your hands there, baby. If you move them you are getting nothing." You whispered back looking him in the eyes.

He groaned and tried to complain but all it took was a look from you to stop him.

He realized you meant business.

You tugged at his jeans to bring them further down, to his knees, and then licked a stripe from his navel to the edge of his boxers, before letting go of his shirt to cover him back up.

Then your gaze moved lower and took in the extent of his arousal.

He was undoubtedly hard and straining in his boxers. You could see the outline of his erection pretty clearly.

At that moment you decided to torture him a bit further.

You moved your head closer to him, not enough for your lips to touch him but enough for him to feel your presence and warmth very close.

He begged you again in less than a minute.

He was so needy.

"What's gotten you so riled up, baby?" You questioned letting the elastic band with which you were playing snap against his tummy.

He shook his head and cursed but didn't answer.

He wasn't going to relent.

Unexpectedly you pressed your lips against his covered shaft with a quick peck and he almost doubled over with a groan and grasped your hair with his strong fingers.

You immediately detached from him with a glare that had him apologizing and pressing his hands back against the wall with a defeated sigh, giving you full control.

You pressed your parted lips against him again and moved them gently upwards causing the fabric to drag against him and making him groan.

You reached his head and he cursed when your lips wrapped around him, but still the fabric separated you from his skin.

You sucked at him gently and his hips threatened to push away from the wall but he stopped himself.

You kept your lips there and sucked at him, swirling your tongue against him and wetting the fabric.

A big wet darker spot formed where your saliva was dampening the fabric.

"Fuck, angel" he whimpered and you moved one of your hands from his hip to his upper thigh, caressing the dip between hip and crotch.

A little whiny sound left his lips before he could restrain himself and bite his lips and your hand moved lower.

Your thumb caressed his clothed shaft as your lips kept sucking at his head making him lose his mind excruciatingly slow.

A little sheen of sweat was starting to cover his forehead and he was biting his lips so hard trying not to moan out loud.

Your tongue found the little special spot right under his head that made him tremble and finally you heard his voice, unrestrained and raspy as he moaned.

"Please" he begged already out of breath and you stopped again.

"What got you so worked up, lover boy?" You asked again as your thumb kept stroking up and down his covered shaft.

"N-nothing" he groaned blushing wildly, but you were having none of it.

Something was blocking him from saying what it was.

You stopped the movement of your thumb and he cursed, looking at you absolutely desperate.

"C'mon, baby, tell me, you know you can tell me anything" you whispered.

He shook his head and groaned when you gently grazed your teeth against his tip.

"Angel" he whined, dragging out the word.

"Just please, stop torturing me" he whispered and you started dragging his boxers slightly down.

But then you stopped.

He groaned as you let the fabric end back against him with a loud snap, making him hiss.

"Tell me" you whispered with your lips grazing his erection.

His eyes met yours. Burning and fiery.

"No," he said harshly.

He wasn't going to relent.

So be it.

Your nails dug in his hip and he cursed.

Then your hands trailed lower and he smirked, thinking you were going to give him what he wanted.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Just when you were about to free him from the confines of his boxers, your hand retreated once again, making him curse.

You didn't give him time to do anything because your mouth enveloped his clothed tip and sucked hard, almost making him lose balance.

One of your hands snaked downwards and started massaging his taut balls through the fabric..

He moaned your name loudly, his voice echoing in the room.

You could feel your panties sticking to your skin but every cell of your body was focused on him and his pleasure.

You kept your lips around his tip and with the thumb of your other hand you started caressing his shaft, rock hard and so hot.

"Angel" he warned you.

He was close. His gritted teeth and tense abdomen made you almost feral.

"Think about that forbidden thing you are so adamant about not telling me, baby" you ordered him and his hands squeezed into fists as he bit his lip letting his head fall backwards, exposing his sweaty neck.

You started flicking your tongue on the little spot right under his head, moaning to let him feel the vibrations of your voice against himself and that was it.

"No. Wait…" he tried to say but it was too late.

Before he could stop himself he reached his climax, slamming his hands hard against the wall and coming undone right in his boxers.

The sounds leaving his lips were sinful and made goosebumps raise on your skin.

You felt his warmth spread beneath the wet fabric of his boxers and shivered in need.

He slowly came down from his high and groaned, taking a good look at the state he was in.

"Fuck angel, really?" He complained with a little smirk, "You really made me come in my boxers?!" His incredulous tone made you chuckle.

"I figure I did, lover boy" you whispered and made the wet fabric snap against his hips one last time.

You stood and tried to walk towards your room to get him something clean to wear but he stopped you with a firm grasp on the back of your neck, pinning you to the wall and leaning close to your ear to whisper something.

"You plague my mind all day. And all night too. I dreamt about you doing unspeakable things to me tonight. That's why this morning I was so hard and needy." He bit your bottom hard lip before continuing.

"But all you could think about were those damn pants and you rejected me to go look for a stupid fabric." He rasped into your ear, making you shiver.

"Do you really wanna know what kept me awake tonight and plagued my mind the entire day?" He went on before kissing you passionately.

You nodded and bit his lip back, making him groan.

He pinned you more against the wall and sucked your lobe into his mouth before pressing his lips to your ear and starting to speak.

"I had a dream that you used that damn vibrator I gifted you a couple of months ago to make me come. In my dream it was so messy and hot that I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. When I finally decided I wanted to do something about it you woke up but we had to leave. But I kept imagining it, angel. Fuck I'm imagining it right now." He groaned and pressed his forehead against yours.

Your mind was in overdrive.

"Let's do it. If you want it I want it." You whispered back, shaking lightly.

You were lying. You didn't want it.

You needed it.

You needed to admire him unraveling in front of you.

You had imagined it countless times. But now you wanted to see it with your eyes.

His lips parted in surprise and then he smirked.

"Don't tell me you had already thought about this." He chuckled and you blushed.

"Who knew that my little shy, silent girl had such a dirty mind" he said smugly, laughing.

You pressed your hands on his chest and pushed him backwards until he reached the table.

Then you quickly turned him and pushed his hips against the table with yours.

He cursed.

"Let's see who is going to be the last one laughing, baby" You whispered in his ear from behind.

"Don't you dare move" you ordered him and he groaned but stayed put as you disappeared.

When you came back he was in the same position as before, with his hands on the table and the jeans still around his knees.

One of your hands reached forward and stroked his chest, feeling his sweaty damp shirt, bunching it up and pulling it away from his body altogether.

You started placing little kisses on the junction between his neck and shoulder and when you reached his shoulder you bit down hard.

He arched his back slightly and you pressed him further into the table.

Then you brought the hand you had on his chest downwards keeping the other hidden behind his back.

When you reached his dirty boxers you finally snaked your hand inside and wrapped it around him. He was quickly hardening again and still damp with his previous arousal.

You decided it was time to free him so you bent down behind him and dragged both boxers and jeans down and off his body.

He sighed but gasped when before standing back up you bit down hard on one of his plump ass cheeks.

When you stood, you slowly dragged the black silicone toy you had in your other hand slowly up and down his spine and hips before wrapping both arms around his waist and flicking the toy to life in front of him.

"Are you sure you want this?" You asked, dragging the toy up and down his abdomen every time closer to the place where he needed it.

"Fuck, yes I need it angel." He groaned when both of your hands reached between his legs.

You stroked him a few times with your free hand before trying the toy on him.

When it touched the base of his cock he tensed and growled arching his head backwards.

He almost lost his balance when unexpectedly you moved the toy down the underside of his shaft and made it graze the spot right under his head.

He moaned so loud that you felt a shock wave of pleasure curse through you.

He almost doubled over and gasped for air like never before.

You abruptly stopped.

He cursed and begged you to go on.

You had an idea.

"Jakey, baby, I want you to press your hands on the table and bend forward a little." You whispered in his ear before kneeling behind him.

He obliged, a little confused but shivered when he understood what you wanted to do.

You grabbed his erection gently and started stroking it downwards as he leant his body against the table.

He tensed when you put the tip of the toy right against his balls and little breathy whines started leaving his lips as you combined that with the slow and steady stroking of your fist.

"A-angel, fuckfuck just like this" he moaned.

You started placing little wet kisses on the back of his thighs and goosebumps raised on his skin.

It wasn't the first time you two indulged in such forbidden activities.

So when you asked what he wanted he was quick to answer.

"Your mouth, please angel" he groaned, leaning more of his body against the table.

You wrapped your lips around his tip and moved the toy to graze that little spot behind his balls that made him scream.

"Ah fuck me" he groaned.

You started kissing and licking his balls as you stroked his length with the tip of the vibrator. He was slowly losing his mind, the sounds leaving his lips were becoming louder and louder.

You caught him off guard by licking a slow stripe from the underside of his balls to his hole and he cursed, arching his back.

He slammed his hands on the table and groaned loudly.

His groans morphed into unbridled moans when you kept licking at him, feeling his muscles flutter under your tongue as the hand holding the toy moved gently up and down his length.

He started shaking when the rhythm of your licks picked up and you started pressing the tip of your tongue a little bit more inside him.

You almost lost it yourself when you looked up to the wall in front of you.

Thanks to the perfect placement of the oven, you could steal a look to him while staying behind him, the reflection the glass of the oven door was sending back to you was an image of pure bliss.

He had his eyes closed and his lips parted in ecstasy, his head slightly leant backward exposing his sweaty biteable neck that you had marked so many times.

When the vibrator touched his balls his brows tipped up and he bit his lower lip, stifling a moan, but when you slowly stroked his length and pressed the toy right on the underside of his head his lips parted in a grimace, exposing his teeth. He looked almost in pain, but the sound that left his lips was absolutely far away from it.

He was experiencing the utmost pleasure. His legs were starting to shake.

He whimpered when you brought him to the edge and stopped abruptly, parting from him.

You stood, turned off the vibrator and he panicked.

"Wait, wait, please angel please…" he blabbered, his desperate words overlapping.

You pressed your front to his back and grasped his hips.

Then you brought one of your hands to his throat to silence him and keep him in place.

"Jakey, baby. You have been such a good boy for me." You whispered into his ear and he cursed under his breath at the nickname.

"I want you to tell me exactly what you need." You went on.

"I want your fingers. Inside" he whispered without any shame, shaking with need.

You kissed his ear and praised him again.

Then your hands moved to his wrists making goosebumps raise down his arms.

"Bend over the table, baby" you whispered into his ear.

One of your hands reached to his back and gently pressed him to the wooden surface.

He groaned at the coolness of it and gasped when your lips met the spot between his shoulders blades, and started trailing kisses down his spine.

When you reached his lower back you couldn't contain yourself.

You grasped his plush ass and he chuckled but hissed when your palm connected with ot, looking at how his supple skin giggled.

"What was that for?" He said, sounding a bit vexed.

"For fun baby" you answered and licked a bold stripe against his hole.

"Fuck" he cursed.

You circled his hole repeatedly with the pointed tip of your tongue and then sucked, feeling him flutter and clench beneath your lips.

"Fucking hell" he cursed.

He jolted forward when, unexpectedly, you turned on the toy and placed it right at his hole, keeping it there.

He moaned loudly and his breathing turned ragged when your hand resumed stroking his length.

When you stopped again, he almost sobbed.

"Shh baby, I'm about to give you what you want" you reassured him.

You opened the little bottle of lube you had brought to the kitchen with the toy and wetted one of your fingers before circling it to his hole.

"Still ok with this baby?" You whispered and he answered immediately.

"Yes angel please. Make a mess of me" he whispered and groaned.

It wasn't the first time you touched him there, you had already used your tongue on him a few times but this was the first time he had actually asked you to use your fingers to penetrate him.

You started pressing a finger to his hole incredibly gently and you almost moaned at the way his body started enveloping your digit.

He was panting now. The rising and falling of his glowing body almost made you lose your mind.

You had managed to press your finger inside of him to the knuckle and started moving it in and out of him.

He tensed his body and whimpered, letting a long drawn out breathy moan leave his lips when you turned on the vibrator and pressed it to the little spot right behind his balls.

"A-" he tried to say but you completely shattered his thoughts when you sucked his balls into your mouth and pressed the toy against his frenulum.

You let go of his tensed balls and listened to the beautiful symphony of his heavy breathing, moans and whimpers.

You experimentally curled your fingers downwards and he screamed your name, almost losing balance.

His knees buckled and his back arched. You felt his muscles flutter around your finger and you almost came untouched right there.

You slowed the rhythm of your finger but he didn't want that. He started pressing his hips back against you quickly.

He tried to warn you again, but you didn't give him time.

Your finger curled a bit more sharply against the forbidden spot inside of him while you simultaneously kept the toy down the length of him. The length of it, so similar to him, allowed you to keep it pressed entirely against him, from his tip to his balls, making him let out a loud string of curses and moans.

You moaned too and without thinking bit down harshly on his ass cheek.

He completely lost himself at that. The invisible thread tethering him to reality broke and he unraveled beautifully in front of your eyes.

His body started shaking violently and his knees buckled. He kept his balance only thanks to the table or he would have crumbled on the floor.

His arched back was a sight to behold together with his dampened hair sticking to his back as he threw his head backwards in pleasure.

The sounds leaving his lips were heavenly and absolutely unrestrained.

They were going to haunt your every living moment and plague your most forbidden thoughts.

His come coated your hand and the black toy you were holding.

You turned it off and let it fall on the ground without any recollection of it. You were too enraptured by what had just happened.

His breathing started to calm down only after several minutes.

You stood and hoped he was ok.

You circled the table and saw that he had his cheek pressed to the table and his eyes closed, his hands still closed into fists.

His hair was a mess, sticking to his skin and damp with sweat.

You caressed him and he purred.

"Are you here with me, lover boy?" You asked and he chuckled.

"I think I just got my soul ripped from my body, my little naughty angel" he said, his voice raspy and spent.

He sounded so sexy that he made you want to do what you had just done all over again.

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