#I bet the Redding's would like bowling

[novapark]

Atlas: “I really thought we’d be good at this.” 

Jericho: (sighs) “I guess it’s just been too long since I’ve done it.” 

[bruhstories]

Bet II

p.1 here & p3. here & p.4 here & p.5 here & p.6 here

summary: it's your first day as a cat sitter and things are going more than well. but will they stay that way? pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan w/c: 2.2k

a/n: hiii, this is pretty much reader's pov, but don't worry, we'll see things through in-ho's eyes in chapter 3! if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post.

You woke up at five in the morning on the first day of your temporary job. It took you about fifteen minutes to walk to the bus stop, and another fifteen to get to Gangnam-gu by bus, but you needed to prepare breakfast for your uncle first. The last thing you wanted was to anger him. You washed a cup of rice and tossed it in the rice cooker before slicing some pickled radish and a fresh cucumber and carrot. While waiting for the rice to cook, you fried some tofu that you had marinated in gochujang the night before.

Around six you woke your uncle up with the bowl of bibimbap and a cup of freshly brewed coffee, but didn't stay long enough to hear him tell you off about how bad his coffee tasted, or how cold the rice was, all completely false statements. It was just the way your life was since your father passed away and your mother left the country. But you couldn't afford your own place, and you probably wouldn't any time soon, so you took odd jobs to stay away from him and pay his stupid debts.

You made it just in time for Eunjoo's breakfast, stepping through the door at 6:50. There was no cat in sight yet, but the moment you opened the food can, Eunjoo peeked from around the sofa, silently sneaking behind you, apprehensive about rubbing against your leg. She waited next to the water bowl as you scooped the food out and mashed it with the spoon, then bent down to place her plate on the silicone mat on the floor. 

It was only after you got back up that you noticed the mess in Mr. Hwang's penthouse. There were so many dishes in the sink, empty bottles of beer scattered on the dining table, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, takeaway boxes stacked on the countertop, a half-full coffee cup, tissues on the floor. You definitely remembered that his house was clean when you first visited him. Too clean, even, like he suffered from mysophobia. You had a lot to do in that house. And then there was Eunjoo, who, for some reason, refused to eat her breakfast despite sitting patiently next to her ceramic plate, tail curled around her paws.

Panic seeped into your veins as you urged the cat to eat, crouching next to her in hopes that she only needed a little encouragement, but Eunjoo stood her ground. You didn't know what to do, the mess was overwhelming and you frantically paced around the kitchen like a headless hen, not knowing what to do first — wash the dishes, take out the trash, force feed the cat. As though Mr. Hwang could see you, your phone vibrated with a text from him.

Good morning. Sorry about the mess, I had a little gathering last night before my trip. Is everything alright? In-ho 

A little gathering? He had a full-blown party! Maybe it was his birthday, or he had a bachelor party. But the mess wasn't important, Eunjoo was. You quickly saved his number in your contacts list and typed a reply.

Morning! Don't worry about the mess, I'll deal with it later. Eunjoo's not eating, though. Should I take her to the vet? She seems healthy, but I’m worrying.

You waited for his text while sitting on the floor, one hand extended for the cat to sniff it. She did, then went back to her plate, simply looking at you, staring directly into your soul with bright green eyes.

Ding!

Oh, I forgot to mention that she only eats breakfast and dinner when I do. You're going to have to eat something. There's plenty of food in the fridge. 

Well, that changed things. You typically had one meal a day since most of the food back home was eaten by your uncle, and you didn't want to pry into Mr. Hwang's fridge and pantry. Rummaging through your backpack, you found a half-eaten bag of shrimp crackers and shrugged. It was good enough for you if it meant she ate.

"My food." You told Eunjoo while holding the bag, giving it a small shake. "Your food." You pointed at her plate.

As if she could understand your words, Eunjoo turned to her breakfast while you munched on the crackers, nibbling on them slowly to save some for later. God only knew when you could have some more food. When her plate was empty, you twisted the bag of remaining snacks and put it back into your backpack before getting up from the tiled floor. 

"Okay." You told yourself. "First thing's first — scoop the poop."

There were two litter boxes in the penthouse, one in the guest bathroom and one in the en-suite. You checked both without paying much attention to your surroundings, and threw away all the clumps of pee and litter, then turned the TV on to play some music. You started off strong with some upbeat songs, a little rock, a bit of pop. Your father raised you on international music. Queen, in particular, was his favourite band, and so your playlist was full of their songs.

Don't Stop Me Now was perfect for doing the dishes. First, you put away all the dry plates and cutlery before emptying the sink. You didn't even bother trying to turn on the dishwasher, your hands worked better and faster, and with the speed of light, like Freddie Mercury sang, you finished washing all the dishes. Each time you rinsed a plate, you turned the tap off, careful not to waste any water. If there was one good thing about not being rich, it was that you learned to truly care about the environment, and tried your best to fight climate change. But you weren’t perfect. No one was. There were skeletons in your closet.

As the song came to an end, you tackled the takeaway boxes. You found the bin and threw away any leftover bits of food that were inedible, saving the cardboard boxes for recycling, along with the beer bottles. The penthouse was looking better by the minute, and after wiping the table and countertop, vacuuming and mopping the floor, you took your phone out and snapped a picture for Mr. Hwang. 

Kitchen and dining room done!

You pressed send and checked the time — 9:00. Shit, your other job was starting soon. Hastily, you turned the TV off, rinsed Eunjoo's water bowl and filled it with fresh water before checking the automatic feeder. It was still half-full, so you put your shoes on and left with the recyclables and trash bag.

"I'll be back tonight, kitty!"

The bin room was easy to find, and satisfied with the work you did, you went back to Guryong Village, where you taught Ali Abdul and his wife Korean. They couldn't afford to pay you, but when they could, they fed you, and that was all that mattered. It was the only meal you didn't need to share with your uncle, and it was more than enough to keep you going through the day. 

At 12:00 you took two buses to Lotte World, where you worked part-time as a mascot, from one to seven, boiling in the purple bear suit. You didn't mind it when you saw how happy the children were, though. Their smiles and happiness mattered more than how uncomfortable you felt, and on the bright side, it kept you very warm in winter. You had to look for positives, didn't you? Life wouldn't be enjoyable if all you did was focus on the negativity and unfairness of it. And life had been nothing but cruel to you. Yet, you persevered. 

You left the theme park at 7:15 and took the bus back to Gangnam-gu, drenched in sweat. The cold November air made you shiver under the coat as you stepped down the street, making your way to Mr. Hwang's penthouse for the second time that day. Kicking your shoes off, you kept the coat, because the apartment was chilly, and you tried to find the thermostat before feeding Eunjoo. 

Good evening! I hope your trip is going well! It's getting quite cold and I was wondering if I could turn the heating on, more for Eunjoo than for me. 

When there was no reply, you shrugged and opened a can of food, placing the plate on the mat, like you did in the morning, then took out a food container from your bag with leftover chicken karahi from Mrs. Abdul. She was kind enough to give you more, and you took out a plate from Mr. Hwang's kitchen to heat it in the microwave.

Eunjoo ate when you did, as she did in the morning, and you found it interesting that she didn't immediately dig in like your cousin's cat used to do. She had good manners, you thought with a smile. The food warmed you up a bit, and you washed the plate and chopsticks after you were done, but the warmth was soon replaced by a chill running down your spine. You had to start layering up for winter.

Ding!

Good evening, miss. My apologies for not replying quicker, work is hectic. Please turn the heating on and stay the night to make sure Eunjoo is warm.

Oh, that was straightforward. You chuckled at the text, but you couldn't stay the night. Instead, you walked back to the thermostat and searched the brand online to set a timer. You tested it first to make sure it worked, and when it did, you set the heating on every 3 hours. It should be enough for Eunjoo to stay warm. 

I appreciate it, sir, but I can't stay over. My uncle would be upset. I put the timer on and it works, I checked. I'll send you a picture after I scoop the poop and tidy up.

You sent the text and inspected the litter boxes. Eunjoo had the stinkiest poops you had ever sniffed, and as you scooped it out of the box, you couldn't help but talk to her. She was watching you from the corner of the guest bathroom, pupils blown at every movement you made, studying you.

"Girl, this is foul." You laughed, tying up the small bin bag. "Is it even normal for your shit to reek like this?" 

Eunjoo lost interest in you when you were done with her box and ran under the bed in Mr. Hwang's bedroom, while you walked back into the kitchen, dropping the bin bag next to your shoes. You filled a tall glass with water and searched for all the plants in the house, stopping at a small cactus in the living room.

When was the last time you watered the cactus?

Ding!

You got the reply quicker than you expected. It usually took In-ho a few minutes to get back to you, but you read it and laughed.

I don't remember. 

Typical for men to forget, you thought as you watered the plant. 

Ding!

Another text? You took your phone out and read it.

Why would your uncle be upset?

The question soured your mood, and you took a few steps back to sit on the edge of the sofa. It wasn't a subject you liked to talk about. In fact, it was a subject you refused to talk about, but Mr. Hwang had been nothing but kind to you, and you felt like you owed him an explanation. No, you felt compelled to give him an explanation, as though you couldn’t just tell him to mind his business.

He took me in after my dad died. He can be quite strict. It's not that I have to go back home, but if he doesn't have breakfast and a coffee when he wakes up, he'll tell me off.

Okay, so you didn't exactly explain your situation. Mr. Hwang didn't need to know all the details, all the beatings and all the insults, all the money he took from you to pay his debts. But hey, at least you had a roof over your head, right?

You washed Eunjoo's plate and water bowl and left them to dry while sorting out In-ho's laundry — whites with whites, blacks with blacks. There weren’t many colourful clothes, which you thought was normal for a man his age.  You were going to wash them in the morning, but you worked smart and hard, and so you wanted them to be ready for the next day. Loading the machine with the whites, you made sure Eunjoo didn't sneak in it and closed the door, then took a shower in the guest bathroom. 

Just as you promised, you brought your own soap and towel, and let the hot water wash away the dirt and dust accumulated throughout the day. It felt good not having to boil water to wash yourself, and you made a mental note to thank Mr. Hwang somehow when he returned from his trip. Perhaps you could cook him a meal and buy a new toy for Eunjoo, although she didn’t seem very playful, at least not when you were around. Stepping out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, you took a moment to enjoy being able to walk around half-naked with no one to disturb you. 

Thank you for letting me take a shower. Eunjoo is sleeping, the plants have been watered, and I’m ready to go home. Good night, Mr. Hwang!

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @nomugglesallowed @awekbachira @hobiesbrowngf @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair

i hope i didn't miss anyone or tagged the wrong people lmaooo

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Kinktober day 7 | Billy Loomis x Riley!Reader x Stu Macher

Day 7: threesome

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+, threesome, cheating, oral (m receiving)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Being sisters came with double the amount of clothes, gossiping in the middle of the night over a bowl of cereal, and liking the same boys. You and Tatum had very different taste in men — she was a James Van Der Beek girl and you preferred Johnny Depp —, but there was something about Stu Macher that pulled both of your heartstrings. 

‘’I saw him first, I call dibs on him,’’ Tatum argued, fighting for Stu. 

‘’He’s not a cute skirt at the mall, you can’t call dibs on a person, Tatum.’’ 

She narrowed her eyes at you. ‘’I don’t care! He’s mine. Back off.’’ 

A series of arguments drove you into a game of who would win Stu Macher. The first to kiss him would win. 

For weeks, you and Tatum competed for Stu, flirting with him at school and at every party. You’d offer him a drink and she would try to get him to dance with her. Stu liked having two sisters flirting and fighting for him, it was exciting. But the game came to an end when Stu kissed Tatum on a Friday night.

‘’I won,’’ she said when she came home that night, a smug smile on her face after sticking her tongue in Stu Macher’s mouth all night. 

Since that night, Tatum assumed she had won, but the hand currently inside your panties playing with your clit was his. 

Your hips bucked at his touch, asking for more. 

Coming behind Stu, Billy laughed as he looked down at you, so needy for his friend’s fingers. ‘’Fucked you twice today and you’re still begging for more?’’ 

Stu looked over his shoulder. ‘’Two times?!’’

Billy hummed, looking smug. ‘’Bet she’s still full with my cum,’’ he teased, his words causing a mixture of embarrassment and excitement to wash over you. 

Stu looked back at you, his hand stopping all movements. ‘’Is that right? You and pretty boy had some fun without me?’’ 

‘’Well, that’s your fault for being at the mall with the wrong sister,’’ Billy said, crashing on the bed.

‘’Tatum told me she was getting lingerie. I couldn’t say ���no’ to that,’’ Stu defended, being a sucker for women in lingerie.

‘’And lingerie is better than this?’’ Billy asked, tweaking one of your nipples over your shirt and making you mewl. ‘’I don’t think so.’’ 

You moved your hand down over your panties — right over Stu’s hand — and bucked your hips again. ‘’Stu, please.’’ 

The latter cooed, but didn’t give you what you wanted. ‘’Don’t you think you’ve had enough?’’ He pinched your clit, making you moan, then withdrew his hand from your panties. ‘’Such little slut.’’ 

His condescending tone was turning you on, your arousal mixing with Billy’s cum inside you. 

‘’Are you gonna be a good girl tonight?’’ Billy asked, rolling on his side so his face was close to yours. ‘’Since you’re already full down here.’’ He caressed over your panties, feeling the wetness seep through the thin fabric. ‘’Stu and I are gonna fill you up here,’’ Billy explained, dragging his hand up to your lips. He pressed his thumb and you opened your mouth, catching it and sucking on it. ‘’Gonna suck our cocks until we cum and swallow it all, won’t you babydoll?’’ 

You nodded and Billy pulled his thumb out of your mouth, now coated with your saliva, then sat up and reached for his belt to undress. On your right, Stu was doing the same, his stiff cock underneath his pants begging to feel your warm mouth around it. It’s been a few days and he was missing it — missing you.

Once both boys had their cock freed completely, you kneeled on the floor before them and debated who to taste first. Stu’s was red at the tip and shined with pre-cum. He reached down to his cock, pulling his hand up and down on himself before you. 

‘’Can’t pick, uh?’’ Stu teased, continuing to jerk himself. ‘’Let me help you. I say I’m first since he got you to himself all afternoon.’’

It seemed fair enough. 

You moved toward Stu and started by mouthing the tip, tongue lazily teasing him. He watched from above, choking on a breath as you took him into your mouth in one fluid motion, sinking down as deep as you could manage. You slid your tongue against the sensitive underside as you stared up at him through fluttering lashes. 

‘’You like this? Taking my cock like it’s fucking candy?’’ 

You hummed around him, continuing your motions for a few more seconds, then pulled back and moved to Billy, doing the same. His hand immediately went to your hair, cupping the back of your head to keep you there. You tried to come up more for air, but Billy held you in place, needing your mouth a bit longer. 

While your mouth was busy and full, Stu reached down to pull your shirt up and cup one of your tits, fiddling with it while he jerked himself and waited for his turn. He would never say it out loud, but fuck do you look good with his best friend’s cock in your mouth. 

Eventually, Billy let you switch, a string of saliva connecting your tongue to the tip of his cock as you turned back to Stu. Their cocks were mere inches from your lips, making it easy for your mouth to go from a cock to another. You took it deep, eliciting deep moans and groans from them. 

At some point, the ache between your legs had returned. You had tried to squeeze your thighs to get some friction, but it wasn’t nearly enough. You wished they would both fill you up and fuck you until you can’t feel your legs. 

But tonight was not about you.

Stu was the first to shoot his load, his face contorting in ecstasy and thighs trembling as you jerked what you wouldn’t take with your hand. You made sure to not swallow anything, then moved to Billy, a mix of saliva and cum dripping from the corners of your lips. It was a sight right from an adult tape you can rent at the nearby blockbuster. 

‘’Such a cum slut, aren’t you?’’ Billy said, smugly looking down at you, your tongue full of his best friend’s seed. 

You let him fuck your mouth the way he liked, looking up at him through the blur of your teary eyes as his sounds of pleasure intensified. Every movement was bringing him closer to the edge. When he knew he couldn’t hold it in anymore, Billy pulled you back and you stuck out your tongue, ready to catch everything he had to give.

—

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[connorsui]

You know, something that I was thinking about while I was walking my way towards my car was how the lads' men would treat you on mothers day with their kids?

Like think about it? — the morning hasn't even started yet, and they are already up and ready for the day before you could even crack a centimeter of your eyelids. and that's not because they didn't bother to wake you up on such an important day…

But because they promised their kiddo, they would serve you breakfast in bed

Like Xavier?... Now you cannot tell me Xavier wouldn't guide his toddler on how to properly stir the pancake batter from the bowl– like this man is patient, gently guiding their tiny hands with his own– he would soften and tender his voice as his baby tells him how much they want their momma to love it – that I even bet you by the time you wake up to the smell of pancakes and fruit on a tray …Xavier is already standing by your bedside with your child proudly presenting their new creation.

“Papa, is this enough?” they ask, holding up a slightly uneven cup of flour. Xavier glances at it, his blue eyes soft with patience.

“A little more,” he murmurs, placing his hand over theirs to guide the pour. “Careful, not too much.”

They continue working together in silence, Xavier focused on making sure everything is perfect, while the child chatters excitedly about surprising you.

“I bet Mama’s going to love this!” they exclaim, cheeks dusted with flour. Xavier’s lips twitch into a small smile, his voice steady as ever.

“She’ll love it because you made it for her.”

Sylus: now we know this man can cook ..and if he could ..he would prepare an entire cuisine that would rival Michelin star restaurants…he can make it basic ..but we all know he won't..it ain't gonna be some cereal with milk and maybe an orange on the side..NAH ..he gonna be wide awake in the morning with your toddler bouncing all over him in the kitchen eager to help at all costs to give you what you deserve – like he would task your baby to give your favorite drink in the morning in a glass cup as he whisks eggs and butter together.

“Daddy, I think I made a mess,” she says, eyes wide with innocence.

Sylus smirks, wiping a streak of flour off her nose with his thumb. “It’s not a mess. It’s art,” he declares, glancing at the bowl of slightly lumpy batter.

She giggles again, bouncing on her toes. “Mommy likes art …right?”

“Yes, she does," Sylus says, his red eyes gleaming with amusement as he pulls the tray together. “But maybe next time, we’ll leave the drinks to me, alright?”

Zayne: …now zayne tho …zayne is a different story ..he always lets his actions speak louder than his words and this is no different like he doesn't need to tell you how much he appreciates you but the gentle way he guides your toddler as they cut fruit says everyyyythingggg — like he would let them take the lead and offering quiet encouragement as your baby carefully cuts another strawberry in half

They frown, concentrating hard as they carefully slice the strawberries, while Zayne watches quietly, offering the occasional word of encouragement. “You’re doing great,” he says, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he slices the melons beside them.

“Is Mama still sleeping?” they ask, their voice soft with excitement.

Zayne nods, his green eyes glowing with quiet pride. “She’ll be surprised when she sees what we’ve made.”

As they finish assembling the fruit salad, Zayne picks up the tray, balancing it carefully with one hand while resting the other on his child’s shoulder. “Ready?” he asks, and they nod eagerly.

When they walk into the room, your child bounces onto the bed, proudly holding up a forkful of fruit. “Mama, look! I helped!”

Zayne sits beside you, his voice low and warm as he says, “Happy Mother’s Day, love. We wanted to make this day special for you.”

Rafayel: …oh my lord ..rafayel ..listen you walk into that kitchen and it's gonna be mess …ur toddler still gonna be smiling in the corner all proud of themselves saying how much they love you and prepared you sum scramble eggs with toast— only for it to be burnt and half baked. Flour is everywhere…the fruits they planned to put together that your toddler suggested they should make a smiley face with the eggs as eyes?? …all over the place. But it doesn't mean the morning went to waste!? – the whole scenery is adorable and filled with affection that you bet Rafayel is still going to say it was made with love.

You wake up to the unmistakable sound of chaos coming from the kitchen. There’s laughter, the clatter of dishes, and... the smell of something burning? You sit up, rubbing your eyes, just as Rafayel strides into the room, a lazy grin on his face and your toddler trailing behind him, still beaming.

“Mama! We made you breakfast!” your toddler shouts, bouncing on their toes with excitement.

Rafayel raises an eyebrow, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “Yeah, ‘breakfast’ might be a generous word for it.”

Consui random thoughts

[muffinpink02]

Sweaty Sessions

We all saw the gym pic Alexia put in her insta post, so of course I had to do a story of her in the gym.

@copper-16 I hope you enjoy the hip thrusts! 🤤 @codiemarin thank you for jumping in and giving me a detailed picture to write 🥵 💦 and @lucyandalexiafan thank you for always helping me with everything I write! ❤️ Sorry if it feels a little rushed.

Warning - smut 18 plus, strap, restraints, fingering,

Barcelona’s sun was extra hot today, you could feel the sweat dripping down your back as you rounded the corner to your house. You let out a puff of air as you dropped your keys in the bowl next to the front door. You caught a quick glimpse of yourself in the mirror after your run, your face was sweaty, your cheeks were red and your baby hair was starting to curl. The built-in AC was a welcome on your damp skin.

“Ale, I’m home.” You called out, but got no response. 

You walked into the back of the house, knowing your girlfriend would be in her favourite room. 

You took your headphones out as you approached the door to your shared home gym. You could hear the familiar sounds of her heavy panting before you had even turnt the corner. You couldn't ignore the way it made your pussy flutter.

You spotted your girlfriend in the middle of her daily work out. You had seen the sight before, more times then you could count, but that didn't mean it ever got old, the view of Alexia working out never got old. In all honesty the mouth watering sight alone could get you wet if you watched her long enough, especially when the only items she wore were a sports bra and red gym shorts.

You slowly sneaked into the kitted out gym room, the heat in the room hit you straight away, it felt like a sauna. It was the only room where the AC wasn’t working, the repair guy was coming next week to fix it. 

The blonde was in the middle of her hip thrusts, she hadn't noticed you come in, she had her headphones on, and her eyes closed as she concentrated on the heavy weight bearing on her hips, her deep breathing went in time with her motion. Your eyes greedily roamed her sweaty body, as her abs flexed with her movements.

You shook your head at the girl, only Alexia would work in a hot box for a room, the girl never missed her workouts for anything.

The music in her ears suddenly stopped. Her hazel eyes opened in confusion, a cute frown knitted between her eyebrows until she saw you. She gave you a quick smile, clearly still in the zone of her workout. 

You eyed the plates on the metal bar, the weight combined was heavier than you, a stark reminder of the kind of power the girl possessed. Though you were reminded most nights when she had her way with you. Just the other night the blonde had you pinned to the wall, her strong arms held you up as she fucked you so effortlessly with her strap.

You smiled back at her, your mind was already filled with filthy thoughts, but you couldn't help it, not when she moved her hips the way she did. Her hips thrusted hard, as she pushed the heavy bar in the air, you felt your pussy squeeze as you watched her muscles flex again and again, her sweaty skin looked incredibly edible.

You flinched as she dropped the weight, the heavy clanking of the metal brought you back from your dirty day dream.

“Hola, baby. How was your run?” She breathed.

“It was good, thank you. How's your training going? Are you finished?” You asked with hope in your voice but you already knew the answer.

“No, I’m half way.” She chuckled.

You pouted as you stood over her. You rolled the bar down her legs, she eyed you as she took a drink from her bottle, the blonde could already read your mind. You lowered yourself on top of her hips, in a squat-like position. 

“I bet you can’t do a hit with me on top.”

She wiped her wet lips as she smiled at your attempt to goad her.

“At least try and give me a challenge when trying to distract me, amor. Come, let me finish. I’ll be done soon.” 

She patted your leg to move, You pouted again, giving her your best puppy eyes, she playfully rolled her own, smiling at your sulky face.

“Three thrust, then I train, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Her warm hands grabbed your bare sides as she easily raised you off the floor with her movements, you felt your cunt flutter as her hard abs pressed into your core, just slightly giving you a little bit of friction, But she didn't stick to her own words as she thrusted again, and again, her hands squeezed your skin, holding you in place. 

You could tell she was counting, she had clearly made a bet in her own head to get to a certain number, the competitiveness never stopped with this girl, even if it was with herself. You couldn’t hold back the giggles as she smiled at you. You held on to her shoulders as she pushed into you, easily lifting you up and down, her fingers flexed around your skin, making your stomach flutter.

A small gasp escaped your lips at a particularly hard thrust from the girl below. You bit your lip as your clit pressed just perfectly against her firm body, your hips naturally moved against her, wanting more friction.

She felt you move, she heard the gasp, a knowing smirk crept on her perfect face. You could feel yourself getting wet, the movement was sexual, there was no two ways about it. You had been in this very position only this morning, when Alexia decided she wanted you to ride her fingers. 

But once again your filthy thoughts were interrupted.

“20. Done. Now let me train.”

“Make it 30.” 

She chuckled. “No amor, let me finish, then you can have me.”

You tried to do your best pout again even adding a small roll of your hips, hoping the move would persuade her.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she felt you, the fingers on your sides tightly squeezing again. You took that opportunity to lean into her hot body, your lips traced her sweaty neck, you could taste the salt from her sweat on your lips. You dragged your tongue just below her ear, smiling when she made a small gasp of her own. You captured her ear gently between your teeth, giving her another sinful roll of your hips.

“Please baby. I want you.” You purred.

Her hips jolted up, you couldn't help but feel slightly proud of yourself as her normally strong resolve started to break. But just as you thought you had won you were being lifted into the air. Your face was met with Alexias back as she easily flung you over her shoulder, like some kind of cave woman.

“Ale!”

Moments later you were set back on your feet, standing next to the pull up station. The next couple of seconds were a blur. Her movements were quick, one minute you were dry humping your girlfriend, the next your arms were being pulled behind your back and were being tied up by the rubber bands that were attached to the bars above.

You felt the rubber around your wrist, you tried to pull at it but it was no use. You shouldn't have been too surprised that the girl was able to tie you up so effortlessly, she loved having you tied up in your sexual activities, she could make restraints out of almost anything, but you had never thought your resistance bands would be used on you. 

She smirked as she pulled the bands, making sure you couldn't escape. A harsh tug brought you closer to her face. Her lips ghosted your own.

“As you can’t be good and keep your hands to yourself, you can wait.” She smirked as she pressed her lips onto yours. 

Your mouth gaped open in disbelief, she gave your arse cheek a hard slap before she walked back to the equipment. 

“No, Ale please! I’ll be good.” You cried out.

But it was no use, her face was already back in focus mode. You groaned as you watched Alexia completely ignore your presence and settle back into her hip thrust position, your complaints falling on deaf ears. 

So you stood there. Staring at your girlfriend as she thrusted the heavy bar in the air. You tugged at the band once again, trying to free yourself but it was hopeless. You would just have to wait and watch, but at least the view was a good one.

Alexia was in the zone, she concentrated on her work out, finally finishing her remaining reps. As she stood you noticed her arms looked extra hard, you weren't sure if she was tensing or the girl had just gained more mass. But you were going to be a brat about it.

“Are you really going to leave me like this? Make me watch your work out? As if I'm impressed?”

She laughed out loud, wiping her sweaty forehead, but she didn’t respond. She picked up some more plates from the rack. She held the weight near her core, and pushed it on the bar in the most sexual manner, her eyes watching you as she did. 

You rolled your eyes and looked away, but only for a second, you weren't about to let your pride get in the way of watching your girlfriend be a cocky dick, it was frankly the hottest thing on earth, but you weren't going to tell her that and let her ego grow even more.

Once she was finished with her peacocking, she moved to lay on the bench, lifting the bar with an eye watering amount of weights attached, but of course she only made it look easy. 

You felt no better than a man as you watched the blonde working out, I mean, she was your girlfriend, you were allowed to watch, you were being made to watch, but you wanted to touch her, especially when she started to make those stupidly sexy grunting noises. 

The grunts she let out was the same grunts you heard in your ear many a night, the same delicious groans that dripped from her mouth when she held you down and fucked you until she came on the base of her strap, grunting while she was deep inside you.

You caught your lip between your teeth, the heat between your legs was rising, your mind was clouded with images of Alexia, thinking about all the ways she would fuck you, use you, make you scream untill your voice was hoarse. The sound of a loud groan made your eyes flutter and your knees weak. 

Alexia finished her reps with the chest press and moved over to the weights on the stand, not once did she look at you. She took out a 20kg kettlebell and began her kettlebell swings. It was no secret that the girl was fit, she did two workouts a day, everyday, plus training, plus running and everything else in between, but she still impressed you every time you watched her, the girl was a beast. 

The blonde had almost forgotten you were there. She was mid lift when she caught you watching her in the floor length mirror. A coy smirk creeped on her lips at the angry yet horny look that sat on your face. She loved the fact that you were watching her, even if you had no choice in the matter. Though she knew you were enjoying the view, she just wanted to have a little fun with it.

She panted hard as she got to the last set, her cheeks hollowed out and her sweaty chest rose in time of her breathing, her goddess-like body was something of dreams.

You could really feel the heat between your legs now, a dull ache throbbing your core, you had never been so turned on and frustrated at the same time. Your thighs began to clench as you watched your very fit but very annoying girlfriend work out in front of you. you couldn't ignore the ache in your cunt anymore

“You’re loving this aren't you?” You raised your eyebrow at the blonde.

She chuckled as she returned the weight on the rack. She took another sip from her bottle before facing you.

“Sí. I am. You should have been patient, baby.” 

You rolled your eyes. The girl could be such a fucking tease.

She walked towards you with a cocky smirk on her face. 

“Ah don't be like that, amor. I know you enjoyed the view.” 

“Would be better if I was allowed…”

Your sentence died in your throat. The blonde turned her back to you, you thought she was done with the conversation but you watched as she slowly started to stretch. Right in front of you. She bent straight over, touching her toes with ease. Her arse strained against the tiny shorts, giving you a perfect view of one of your favourite body parts. She was clearly trying to kill you. 

“Alexiaaaa. Please. This isn't fair.” You cried out.

She laughed loudly as she straightened herself up. Your eyes roamed her wet, muscular body, she was covered in a sheen of sweat, even her top lip was wet. 

You didn't know why but it was something that turned you on to no end. Seeing Alexia like this, all worked up, hot and sweaty made you clit throb. Maybe because it was a similar sight to when she fucked you.

“You can wait a little more.” She pulled the rubber band once more, making you jolt.

Before you could reply she was walking out of the gym.

“Ale! Where are you going? You can't just leave me!”

She ignored your calls once again. You huffed in annoyance, pulling at the arm band one more, but the tight rubber only pulled on your skin. The room was unbearably hot, your patience was wearing thin, especially as it was at least 5 minutes before she came back. 

“Ale, what the fuck you c-can’t …” Your words stuttered on the tip of your tongue.

Alexia stood at the gym door wearing nothing but her favourite strap. The big strap.

“What was that sweetheart?”

You gaped at her, your mouth was suddenly dry. The sheer cockyness that dripped from the gril was spinning your head. The look she gave you was predatory, she stalked slowly over to you, you suddenly felt like a lamb who was about to be devoured by the lion

“Hmm? You seemed so impatient. I think you need something…. Big. Don’t you think?” 

“N-no. I jus- ahhh.”

Your head was suddenly yanked back, Alexia had a vise-like grip of your hair, making you cry out.

“Get on your knees.” 

You knelt to your knees, while Alexia kept her grip on you.

“Open your mouth.”

And like the good girl you were, you opened your mouth. She slid her dick in gently, but it didn’t stop you from gagging as it got halfway. You didn’t normally use this strap for oral, it was too big, but clearly Alexia wanted to prove a point with your lack of patience.

“Go slow.” 

You did go slow, but the tears sprung to your eyes just as quickly. She slowly pressed her hips to your face, the pressure on your throat was a lot, but it only built the pressure between your legs. 

“Keep going, you can take it.”

Your eyes closed as the tears ran down your cheeks. Her hand in your hair guiding you until your nose pressed against her firm stomach.

“That's it, your mouth is better when it's used for this, no?” She smiled down at you.

You opened your eyes, looking at the goddess above you. She wiped your tears with her free hand, it was a soft getsure considering her bravado was out in full swing. She cupped your chin as she pulled back, then slowly back in. The pace was slow but the spit in your mouth gathered fast, as the thick strap filled your throat. 

You stayed on your knees for a couple more minutes as Alexia fucked your throat with the biggest strap you owned. You kept your throat as relaxed as you could, as she watched you take her, her own cunt throbbing.

“Get up.” Alexia snapped. She gently pulled the strap out of your mouth.

You didn't have a chance to move before she easily picked you up to your feet. Her sheer strength showing itself again. 

She roughly turned you around, pulling your back against her chest. You let out a gasp as her teeth sunk into your shoulder.

“You’ve become very impatient, baby. Have you lost all your manners?” 

Her mouth started to suck where she bit you, her strap pressing into you as you let out a groan. She had a tight hold of your wrist behind your back, you couldn’t move with the grip she had on you. 

Another yelp escaped your mouth as her hand pulled at your hair. 

“Hmm?” 

“No. I-I just want you.”  

You felt her full lips smile against your skin as she gave you a gentle kiss. 

“But you were acting like a brat, I do not reward brats.”

“I’m sorryyyy.”

Another bite, another mark. 

“Let’s see what a spoilt little brat looks like while she gets fucked.” 

Before you could ask what she meant you were being pushed as close as she could get you to the floor length mirror. You were now only an arm length away from your reflection. You suddenly realised what she meant as you watched a sadistic smile creep on her face behind you. 

Her hands started pulling at your own shorts, roughly yanking them down to your ankles, bringing your underwear with it. Leaving your top half only in your sports bra. 

“Where’s all that talk now, baby?”

You jumped when you felt her fingers slide against your wet lips. 

She scoffed when she felt how wet you were. “You clearly enjoyed watching me. So messy, amor.” She purred in your ear. “You enjoy watching me don’t you?”

You nodded, your eyes closed as you saw yourself in the mirror, not able to escape the way you melted into her hot body. 

“Open your eyes.” 

You did what she said, you weren't about to be a brat with that tone. You saw yourself half naked in the mirror. Alexia was holding your wrist behind your back, as if you would try to escape. Her hazel eyes were on yours, watching you like you were the most beautiful creature in the world.

Two long fingers slid between your lips and circled your throbbing clit. You let out a quiet gasp, your eyes closed as she touched you with light but perfect touches. But your hair was being pulled once more.

“Close your eyes again and I’ll stop.” She whispered harshly in your ear.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as her fingers gathered your wetness.

“You will be.” Her teeth sunk into your neck as those long fingers easily entered your cunt.

You let out a loud gasp, Alexia had thick fingers, the strength of them alone was sometimes harder to take than a strap. 

“So tight.” She hissed, her breath tickling your hot neck. 

But before you could enjoy her fingers for much longer she removed them, her hand was on your neck, pushing you forward and her fingers sunk into your core from the back. Your face was inches from the mirror, your reflection clear as day.

“Fuck.” 

The new angle was tighter, but felt so much better. Her fingers in your cunt pushed in and out slowly, knowing exactly how to pull the cute noises she loved so much. Her talented fingers stroked your walls with perfect precision, you could feel yourself becoming wetter, you could even hear yourself getting wetter against her movements. 

But as soon as she got into a rhythm her fingers were gone, again. You were about to complain and ask why she had stopped, but you were silenced when you felt the head of her strap pushing against your lips. 

“Ale, please.”

“Do you think you have any say right now?” She chuckled deeply behind you. 

That same tone came out to play, it was the tone that you should know better than to open your mouth with. Your skin was hot, but the shivers that creeped on your skin would argue that fact, her stern voice had visibly affected you, and Alexia didn't miss it. Her free hand pushed on your shoulder, bending you right over, until your back was flat. Her fingers traced down your back, catching the dampness of your skin.

“Keep it straight.” 

That same tone came out to play, it was the tone that you should know better than to open your mouth with. If it wasn’t for the position you were in you might have been bold and shot back a sarcastic jab of your own. And maybe it was the frustration of having been tied up for over 20 minutes or the thick heat from the room that made your brain short circuit and fry, because you in fact did reply with a sarcastic jab.

“I've had to wait this long, now I have to bend over? I hope it's worth it.” You whispered, loud enough for her to hear.

You saw Alexia's face harden in the mirror, the grip she had on your wrist tightened as the head of her strap began to push into your core. You gritted your teeth as the plastic began to stretch you out, a loud groan escaped your throat, feeling the strap sliding inside of you. Even though she had her fingers in you just moments before the tight stretch was still there.  

You felt every inch of the strap, no matter how slow she went, the pressure of it made you hold your breath. She was slow as she pressed in, but even with gentle movements the girth took your breath away with the sheer size of it. You felt full.

Finally, you felt the sticky skin of her thighs pressing against yours, as she bottomed out in you, but before you could allow your body to get used to the fullness of her strap, she began to ease out of you. Normally the Spaniad would allow you to get used to the feeling of her inside, she would let you take her inch by inch and get used to the thickness. But you had quite frankly pissed her off with your little comment. You whimpered as her hips began dragging the strap against your tight walls, pulling herself completely out. The tip of her dick now kissed at your lips. 

It was when her hand gripped tightly on your shoulder you knew your cocky attitude was about to be fucked right out of you.

You were expecting it but you also wasn't. With one quick thrust of her hips she was back inside you. The next sound that escaped your mouth was indescribable, it was loud, it was dirty, it was completely pornagraphic, and it was music to Alexia's ears. Her pace was fast as soon as she started. Your mouth gaped open as she rocked her hips into you, causing your whole body to move from each strong thrust. Your legs were holding you up but it was the grip that she had on your shoulder that stopped you from falling over. 

Each quick thrust pushed a loud whimper from you, her pace was vicious. Your head fell forward, not able to keep it up from her brutal pace. 

“Uh ah. Head up, I want you to see how brats get fucked.”

Alexia’s hand gripped onto the ends of your hair, jerking your head up, causing you to let out a long pathetic whine. You felt your core tighten as you were met with the most animalistic scene in front of you. It was a mass of sweaty bodies, Alexia's toned figure rutted hard against you, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against the other bounced off the walls as her thighs slapped against yours. 

Your sweaty wrist rubbed against the rubber bound behind your back while she had you bent over, very much enjoying the view of her strap sliding in and out of your cunt. The smile on Alexia's face was dirty, it made your core tighten around her strap, you were at Alexia’s complete mercy and fuck, did it feel good.

The hot air in the room suddenly felt thicker as the oxygen from your lungs were forced out of you. The strength in her thrusts were almost painful, but Alexia knew you could take it, she knew your body and mind, she knew you would stop her if you had to, but there was no thought in your mind of uttering anything of the sort. 

The moisture from your breath started to steam up the reflective glass in front of you, as you let out small whimpers. You knew it was self indulgent but you didn’t hate catching glances of yourself being fucked, the sight before you was sinful, especially when you had someone like Alexia to watch.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You cried out.

You could feel your orgasm building, your legs and stomach muscles started to ache from the obscene position you were in, you weren't sure how long you would last like this, but you had a feeling Alexia wouldn’t care. You knew you would have pissed her off with your comment, and that’s exactly what you wanted, a pissed off Alexia.

Alexia’s mouth hung open as she felt her clit rubbing perfectly against the base of her strap, she started to pick up her pace chasing her own orgasm. The change of pace sent a wave of pleasure through your body, your cunt throbbed from the relentless thrusts of the girl behind you. 

“Yes, yes, don’t stop.” You breathed out.

Alexia bit her lip as she felt her pleasure building, the sounds of your moaning made her head dizzy with power. She picked up to a piston whip speed. Your mouth fell open as your body was forced to take Alexia’s new pace, you weren't even able to make any sounds from the sheer force of her hips. You felt your climax prickerling your body, the hot sweat that sat on your skin suddenly felt cold as the starts of your orgasm creeped through. 

The grip on your shoulder tightened, Alexia let out a deep throaty moan, you knew she was close, you watched as the muscles in her arms flexed, straining against her sweat covered skin. Your eyes followed her naked body, her muscles flexing as she drove into you, the wet slaps of sweaty skin colliding.

Your legs started to give in as your orgasm began to wash over you, your muscles were already jelly from your run, you felt your knees buckle as your pleasure took over. 

“Ale!” You cried out.

She felt your body giving up. She pulled you straight up, your back hitting her chest. You let out a high moan as her lips crashed into your sweat covered neck, kissing and sucking on your skin.

“I've got you.”

Her hips kept up the bruising pace, she was still chasing her own orgasm, it almost became too much, the pleasure was about to become painful until she groaned in your ear. That very familiar groan that made your head dizzy. Her hands wrapped around your neck, bringing your lips together, it was messy and hungry, your wet lips smacking against the other as her hips started to rut into you.

“Fuck.” She gasped.

Her normally stern face became a blissed out state as her orgasm hit her. Your eyes rolled into your head as small but heavy grunts escaped her mouth, making your clit throb. Her lips pressed into your neck as she slowly grinded into you, her hot body pressed up against yours taking what she needed. 

The hot room was just small sounds of your panting. She gently pulled out of you, her lips kissed your shoulder sweetly, causing you to shiver.

“You okay?” 

You smiled at her soft voice, a complete 360 of your session before.

“I’m so good. But I need a shower. A cold one.” You chuckled.

“Sí. Shower together?” She nuzzled into your neck. She was always so needy after an orgasm, it was the cutest thing to see.

“Together.” You pressed your lips to hers.

She began to to remove the harness from her hips.

"Don't forget me." You turned so she could until you.

"Hmm, I think I prefer you this way. Can we keep you like this until I'm done with you." She bit she shell of your ear, making you groan.

"Are you not done with me?" You moaned with pleasure as her nails scratched up your body.

"Not yet, I think we should test your endurance a little more."

[mxstellatayte]

hiiii ! could you write a part 2 for the charles and the vibe fic?

YIPPEE!!

i was gonna write it anyways but now i have an excuse to do it!

warnings: this is pure filth, threesome (mmf,) p in v sex, unprotected sex (DONT DO THAT,) mirror sex, carlos is an ass guy, charles is a boobs guy tho, kinda exhibitionism?, creampie, sex under the influence kinda?, it's all consensual though!

all you wanted to do was tease charles. all you wanted to do was see how much you could tempt his resolve before it would crumble. you had no idea it would result in getting eaten out in the bathroom and then promptly realizing that carlos had heard the whole thing and had covered for you and charles.

in exchange, carlos wanted to make even on a bet that he and charles had made at the start of the 2023 season.

monaco. february 10th, 2023.

"what do you think the odds are that one of us wins a race this year?"

charles looked up from the chessboard, his eyebrows furrowing. "what do you mean?"

"i was looking at the red bull and mclaren numbers and our car splits them. we have a fighting chance this year, so do you think one of us will get a win this year?" charles moves a rook, taking one of carlos' pawns.

"it depends. if my entire radio just sounds like 'we are checking, we are checking' and i have to make my own strategy and tyre calls, maybe. if xavi learns basic engineering and communicative skills or gets replaced altogether, i'd say yeah, there's a chance."

"you wanna bet?"

"what are we betting?"

carlos hesitates, then looks up when he hears the door opening. something clatters in the closet before you can be heard cursing quietly, then rearranging the fallen shoes onto the rack. eventually, you come through the doorway to the living room, and, when you see carlos, your face lights up.

"carlos! cómo estás?" (how are you?) you walk over and lean down, kissing his cheek in greeting.

"bien. un poco nervioso para bahrain, pero el carro maneja fantástico este año. y vos?" (good. a bit nervous for bahrain, but the car drives amazing this year. what about you?) you walk over to the kitchen while he's talking and pull out ingredients to make yourself a bowl of yogurt and berries- your favorite snack to have after work before you take your pit bull out for a walk.

"i'm alright. the marketing team made a stupid mistake so i had to do some damage control that took way longer than it should have, but i know martin is going to give them absolute hell tomorrow for it, so at least it doesn't reflect badly on me." your bowl clinks on the countertop as you sit down at the island and take out your computer, your headphones that were previously resting around your neck being slipped over your ears. "i've got some emails to write for an upcoming content creator collab we're doing, so i'll be in my zone. you guys know the drill?"

charles nods. "hermit mode?"

you smile, slipping the second speaker over your ear. "hermit mode."

a few moments pass before carlos speaks again. "are you okay with betting her?"

charles' eyebrows raise. "what do you mean?"

carlos makes his move on the chessboard. "if i win more races than you this year, i get her for a night. if you win more races than me, you can use me for a night. however you want."

the thought of his teammate and closest friend getting to fuck you lights a fire inside of charles, and while he wants nothing more than to agree to the bet purely for the stakes of it, he needs to check in with you first. "can i run it by her and get back to you on that?"

carlos nods. "just get me an answer by bahrain so we can figure something else out if she doesn't want to do that."

italy. february 3rd, 2024.

you had forgotten about the bet. charles and carlos had not.

now, just minutes later, you find yourself with your back once again against the wall, but this time you're staring into carlos' eyes while he fingers you gently, your legs wrapped around his waist and charles leaning against the vanity facing both of you. your eyes unintentionally flick over carlos' shoulder to your boyfriend who is an absolute mess. he's palming himself over his slacks, and you can tell just from the flush in his face that creeps down to his neck and the way his eyebrows are pinched together that he likes what he sees. before you can eye-fuck him the way you know he likes, carlos pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, but he carries you over to the vanity and taps your ass to get you to let go. "spin around, amor. let me see that beautiful ass of yours."

this is a side of carlos that you've never seen before, and it would be a lie to say that it's not hot. without a second thought, you spin yourself around so that your back is resting against his chest and your ass rests against his crotch. "come on, hermosa. bend over." as slowly as you can, you lean forward, resting your hands on the vanity and grinding yourself against him and you swear you can feel his dick twitch inside of his own black slacks. as soon as your forearms are fully resting on the granite vanity, carlos runs his hands down your back and to the front of your legs where he pulls the scarlet fabric of your dress to gather on your left side, the slit opening so that your entire ass is exposed. "no panties?" oh. you forgot about that.

"i kept them for good measure," charles says, pulling them out of his pocket. "you want 'em? you might have to shut her up. she never stops moaning."

"i know. i heard everything. you two are lucky i was the one outside and not anyone else. now," carlos says, taking your panties from your boyfriend and shoving them in his pocket, "do you feel like returning the favor?"

the whiskey you'd downed earlier is taking its effect, and you can't help but bite your lip and nod. normally, you wouldn't be nearly as confident as you are now with someone other than your boyfriend having you in the position you're in right now, but you trust carlos and frankly, you're too turned on to care. charles is in the same room and you're both comfortable enough in your relationship that it's okay. "yes, carlos. i'll return the favor. whatever you want." as you're talking, you can hear carlos unbuckle his belt and unzip his slacks, and when there's finally one layer of fabric between the two of you, carlos reaches into his jacket packet and pulls out a condom. before he opens it, though, you pipe up, your voice embarrassingly breathy and high. "i'm clean and on the pill. don't waste it if getting me pregnant is your only concern."

"are you sure?" carlos says, glancing over at charles. your boyfriend only responds with a shrug and points his thumb at you.

"whatever she says. you're the one fucking her."

carlos doesn't waste a second setting the condom on the vanity, pulling his slacks and underwear down his thighs just enough so that it's comfortable, and pushing into you. you have to bite your lip and cover your own mouth to prevent yourself from moaning too loudly, the stretch from carlos being so different to the one you're accustomed to with charles.

when you look up, carlos' head is thrown back and his hands grip your hips so tight his knuckles are white. it might be the hottest sight you've ever seen. "carlos." your voice is whiny, and you're shocked you can even get his name out.

"hm?"

"fuck me, please."

"are you sure?" his voice lilts in the way you're used to hearing, but this time, there's something slightly different about it. maybe it's the fact that he's currently buried inside of you, his hips flush with your own, or maybe it's the fact that every time you move your head to look up at him, your cunt squeezes around him so perfectly he fears he might cum within three thrusts, but either way, you feel so, so perfect.

"positive. now please. fuck. me." slowly, carlos pulls his hips back before pushing into you, slowly increasing his pace until every time his body meets your ass, you're shoved forward slightly on the counter and your breasts bounce forward, almost falling out of the low neckline of your dress.

"mierda, amor, tienes un coño hecho para mi," (shit, love, you have a cunt made for me,) carlos groans out, pulling your arms back and holding them with one hand while the other goes to hold you up by your neck. the restriction to your windpipe makes your head spin and the new angle has carlos' entire cock running against your g-spot with every thrust. you're able to wiggle your hands free, your left hand reaching back to tug at carlos' hair and your right goes down to rub circles around your clit, making you tighten around carlos' dick, and the combination of the pain from his hair being pulled and your cunt spasming around him makes him tip over the edge.

the feeling of carlos filling you up in turn sends you into your own orgasm, and as you cum, you look to your left, where charles jerks himself off watching you. when you make eye contact with him, though, it's the last straw and he spills into his hand with a quiet groan and his head thrown back.

the three of you catch your breaths and carlos pulls out of you gently, then shoves his cum back inside of you. the forgotten egg vibrator in charles' coat pocket is reinserted into your cunt and you whine at the overstimulation, slightly anxious that charles might tease you again, but he whispers a quiet promise in your ear that you've been good tonight, he won't turn it on anymore.

eventually, carlos slips out of the bathroom and you follow shortly after, walking back down the large hallway to return to the event. later that night, after speeches have been made, hollow promises have been spoken, and many, many bottles of expensive champagne have been toasted with, you make your way back outside, your arm linked with charles' as he calls his car to be pulled with the valet service. carlos walks up and stands next to the two of you, his car already on its way up, and turns to you.

"i'd say the bet is settled, no?"

there you have it folks :D

[kaznejis]

Tarnished, but so grand- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

Part 1 / Masterlist / AO3

You flickered your eyes back to him then, finding him staring back at you; his mouth twisted and eyes forlorn. “You’re leaving?” He could only nod, still staring. You inched forward, shock pulsing upon you in waves, “What! Why?” Pause. “Is it because of-”  “Yes.” He said instantly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so, tone breathy but muted. 

Word count: 5.7k

“I couldn’t believe it, Y/N, he kissed me! Scott kissed me!” 

You could only hum in response, staring into the dregs of your cereal bowl; the tepid milk and soggy remains of half-eaten cereal staring back at you. 

“-And it was so romantic, he pulled me away from the bonfire and then he said-” Jean spoke animatedly in the seat across from you, waving her arms and practically squealing with excitement as she recounted her own turn of events from the night before; the hangover gripping at the edges of your conscience and the guilt, oh the guilt, alongside the dread and horror and disgust rendering you useless; allowing you to only manage a small range of primal, ape-like grunts in response. 

Upon stumbling, dragging yourself up to your room the previous night- you had been able to do nothing but collapse into bed, tranquillity washing over the swell of your lips, the bruises upon your back and the tears that wet your cheeks. Waking up the following morning, however, had been a different story. First, you had combatted the grewling ache of your hangover; your head pounding and vision wiry as you squinted at the morning sun that blasted through the open window. It had taken you an embarrassing amount of time to reach your hand forward, intertwine the vines upon your windowsill with the silk of your curtains, and to pull. Once the issue of the sun was eradicated, then the realisation set in; the ball of dread that instantly expanded within your stomach and chest and heart- the shortness of breath that instantly set in, the memories of the previous night flooding back. At first, you chalked it up to a wayward dream, dreams about Erik were nothing new- they had practically facilitated themselves as an integral part of day-to-day life. But, as you woke, as you remembered, the indents upon your back became all too real- the angry, red marks from the press of the tree upon your back as you had- 

No, you had whispered aloud; clawing at the grainy sheets upon you and dragging a trembling hand down your face. No fucking way.  

Despite your resistance, despite your objections- it had happened. Nothing would erase that. The professor that you had grown to respect, to admire- had pressed you against a tree and practically demolished you; intertwined your tongue with his before leaving you cold, alone in the depths of the trees- their swaying, dark silhouettes humouring your tears. Your tears as he had left, stumbling backwards in the grass; his plaid shirt billowing around him like leaves in the wind. 

`’-Y/N? Y/N.” Jean clicked a finger in front of your face, immediately snapping you out of your reverie; leaving you blinking dazedly at your friend as she stared back at you with concern, “Are you okay? You disappeared on me there for a while.” 

You cleared your throat, cringing in disgust at the bowl of gloopy cereal you had practically been drooling into; removing the sodden spoon and pushing the plate to the side; you managed a plain smile at Jean, a shrug of the shoulders, “I’m fine, uh- just tired.” Your words were clumsy, abrasive; sentences slogging together as your tongue struggled to work through your own emotional turmoil. 

“Hungover, I bet.” Jean laughed, throwing her head back and allowing her hair to flow down her back, “You were so wasted.” 

“Says you,” You nudged her knuckle across the table, smirking as she pulled it back with feigned hurt; clutching at her hand as if it had been sliced, “As if you had gotten the courage to talk to Scott sober.” 

“Hey!” It was her turn to swat at you across the table now, “Actually- now that I come to think of it, where did you go last night? I checked your room on my way in and you weren’t there.” 

You stilled for a moment, your inhibitions freezing in horror as you stared at her; body half poised in defence as you had been avoiding her attacks, “Oh! I-” You stuttered, mind going blank for a long moment; this only spurred Jean onwards, exemplified through her sudden change in demeanour; the cock of her head, the furrow of her brow, and the way she leaned fully towards you. You could only shrug; allow an airy laugh as you looked everywhere but her eyes, “When I come to think of it, I can hardly even remember.” Jean leaned backwards then, crossing her arms; unimpressed, “Seriously, Jean! That’s how drunk I was-” 

To your relief, the bell sounded for the end of breakfast; though, it was a Saturday- with no obligations to attend to, Jean was free to follow you as she pleased. You used the dining hall's long benches to your advantage; speed walking down your respective side and disappearing into the swelling crowd of students attempting to leave. Ignoring Jean’s calls as they grew fainter. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t explain yourself to her; whilst your own guilt, regret was a prevalent, persevering factor- you felt the need to protect Erik, protect him from your wretched self. What would Jean have thought if you had told her of how your professor, the very same professor that answered her questions in class and graded her essays, had held you up against a tree and pressed his lips upon yours. What would she think of the way that you would live and die for the chance to taste him again, feel the cold palm of his hand flit higher upon your thigh, for any aggravating factors to disappear as he would finish what he had started within that iridescent alcove?

The rest of the weekend continued with that form of mindset; the lingering doubt that suffocated your mind. Any attempt, any semblance of completing your assignments remained fruitless. The curtain of nightfall began to close as the hallways bustled with student’s heading to their own rooms for the night. Abruptly you slammed your notebook shut, huffing as you moved to stand before your open window; a few stray groups were scattered upon the grass, namely Jean and Scott- cuddling beside the lake and giggling together. You moved away then, unable to watch any longer. You were happy for her, for them, of course you were; you just wished that your own Friday night endeavours had been as successful. 

Whilst they had been successful, as to say, you weren’t currently curled beneath the moon with Erik himself. 

That thought spurred you away from your room; needing a breath of fresh air, a moment to think. The route you took to the gardens led you directly through the classrooms, before you found yourself standing before Erik’s. The wooden plaque upon the door stated ‘Professor Lehnsherr’, you dragged a finger across the words; feeling the engravings upon your skin. Raising your hand to the handle, you were surprised to find it unlocked, though the room remained empty. 

His classroom was dark; the curtains drawn halfway, casting tepid shadows upon the empty desks covering his room. His own was swept clear of any belongings, any ownership; not a trinket or picture or memorabilia upon the oak surface. It has always been like that, you soothed yourself; not allowing yourself to take the empty desk as the red heron that it would be, had it been owned by anyone else. You knew that Erik lived in solitude, everyone did; when he wasn’t teaching, he was with Xavier- and if he wasn’t with Xavier, it was a token to his lonesome. You would find him, in those darker hours, seated at his desk, that empty desk, writing or planning or thinking. You had found admiration in his ability to condone silence; the comfort he drew from the blow of the wind and the subsequent flutter of his curtains. He had told you so, months before, of the comforts he found in the quiet.

“Years on the run,” He had chuckled, watching you perched upon the edge of his desk, legs swinging idly, “Makes you admire the finer things.” 

As you sat alone later that night, thinking of the unusual dark of his classroom and the absence of his presence within the house; you thought about how maybe, just maybe, you were one of those ‘finer things’. You are always there, he had gasped into the night; into the very air you too exhaled upon. My horrible, wretched thoughts. But how could they be so? Did he see the way he had mouthed upon your neck, curling his fingers into the hem of your skirt, so close to that sweet spot; as wretched? Did he see the way you had succumbed to his every command, every lesson, as wretched? A white rabbit, with the rosy pink belly, walking straight into the jaws of the wolf. The girl who can control nature, bend ivy at her will and grow petals in the palm of her hand, and the big bad Magneto. 

You didn’t see it that way. He was kind; kind even before your lips had connected, even before he had spilled every morsel of his thoughts and dreams. His own reluctance showed that; the disgust he projected towards his very own feelings, the things that sets him apart; makes him human. Abhorrently, dejectedly; his own kindness shone in his supposed rejection of you. In leaving you in that forest, available to the beasts and curling claws of nightfall; he had been saving you from himself. 

You knew in that moment, seated upon your own bed; that you needed to see him. Needed to tell him that you knew, you understood him. You felt the ivy of your touch entangle upon the intricacies of his mind like no one else ever could. So, with that, you marched from the room; mindless to the thin pyjamas that you adorned, mindless of your own lack of lightsource within the dark hallway. The bare skin of your feet peeling from the marble floors as you ran- passed the student dormitories, passed the common area, passed the classroom and finally, into the teacher’s suite. 

You slowed then, lowering your pace to a creep as you curled your fingers upon the edge of the hallway; peering into the darkness of the corridor. Despite your position as one of the older students within the school, you were still entering restricted territory. It had practically been drilled into you on day one by Mystique; never enter the teacher’s suite. To your surprise, it didn’t look much different to that of the very hallway you resided in; the same high ceilings, the same arrangement of doors; in fact, it was entirely identical. The mystification you felt towards the teachers lessened somewhat- this was where they lived, where they slept, a sacrifice made in order to be at the beck and call of the students; young mutants just like they had once been. 

The only problem; you had no idea which room belonged to Erik. 

Though, before you could dwell upon the thought; a strip of light appeared as a door opened down the hallway- you gasped, flattening your chest against the wall as you continued to peer around the corner. 

‘-Please you can’t do this.” A voice, Mystique’s, sounded; she seemed upset, angry. She stepped into the hallway in her mutant form, arms crossed and stance defensive in front of the open door. 

Another voice sounded then, stressed and upset; the sound of it visibly weakening Mystique’s resolve, as her arms unfolded, defeated. “I’m sorry Raven, but I have to.” 

“Please, Erik, why?” You realised with deafening clarity, that the other voice had belonged to Erik, “Did something happen? We can talk through this. All of us, I can call a meeting right-” 

“Raven.” Erik snapped, appearing in the hallway; his back was straight as he stared down at her; fists clenched around a cardboard box as he attempted to pass. Before he could so successfully, she snatched the box from his hold, dropping it onto the floor; its contents spilling upon the hardwood floors, “What-” Then she was gone, storming down the hallway and into a door at the end of it- the slam that followed was violent; jostling the very foundations of the walls you leant upon. You could only watch as Erik sighed, scratching at the base of his skull before kneeling; his working boots facing you as he began to clean up the mess. Once he finished, he lifted the box once again; but instead of taking it where he had initially intended, he turned and returned to his room, allowing the door to close behind him. 

In that moment, curiosity got the better of you; curiosity towards the argument that had commenced, curiosity as to why he had sounded so upset. Before you could think twice, you were in front of his door, fist raised; you allowed yourself a short moment of clarity, a split second of what the hell am I doing? Before you knocked your fist against the wood. Erik’s movements within the room paused; you breathed, suddenly all too aware of how little clothing you were wearing- the chequered pyjama shorts and matching lacy tank top. Crossing your arms, you could only stare wide eyed as the door swung open. 

“Raven, please-” Erik began, though he froze the moment his eyes landed upon you, the moment his eyes caught sight of your exposed legs and pursed lips. He swallowed, the sound loud and grating in the hallway- for a moment, he was speechless; seemingly taking you in as you stared right back at him. Though, the moment ended as quickly as it began; his face dropped as he grabbed you by the shoulders; pulling you into the room before closing the door behind you, ensuring that it was locked. He turned to you then, shoulders rising as he visibly struggled to find the words, eventually; he did, voice hushed, urgent. “What- what are you doing here, Y/N?” 

Gulping, you found yourself unable to answer his question in the rise of his anger and the sight of the strip of bare skin where his tank top and loose pants didn’t quite meet. Using your inability to speak as an excuse to move your eyes away from him, you surveyed the room. The room was beautiful; intricately decorated with deep, royal hues of red and black, long pillars lining each corner of the room and a large master bed placed directly at the centre. But, what truly drew your eyes were the boxes splayed throughout the room; some still in their flattened form, some filled with various belongings. You flickered your eyes back to him then, finding him staring back at you; his mouth twisted and eyes forlorn. “You’re leaving?” He could only nod, still staring. You inched forward, shock pulsing upon you in waves, “What! Why?” Pause. “Is it because of-” 

“Yes.” He said instantly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so, tone breathy but muted. 

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, tears filling your eyes as you collapsed upon his bed; making yourself as small as possible upon the sheets, “I shouldn’t have done that- In fact, I should be the one to leave.” You stood, nodding determinedly at him, “I’ll go and see Charles tomorrow; I was the one that kissed you, I should-” 

“No.” His tone sliced through your train of thought, rendering you silent. His chest was heaving with breaths, bracing up and down beneath the thin linen of his tank top. He had the beginning of dark circles forming beneath his wrinkled eyes; the foundational period of a lack of sleep. Gulping, you waited for him to continue, the urge to reach forward and run a finger through the light stubble upon his jaw ever-prevalent. He began to speak before pausing, his gaze earnest; broken and open for you to feast upon, cast your worst abjections upon him. “What I did was wrong, Y/N-” 

“What you did?” Shaking your head, you paced before him, floods of dread filled your gut; dread at the implications he sported and the fear within his voice, “I don’t know what you think that was Erik, but-” 

“Y/N, I am your professor.” His tone was final, serious; his chest raised and fell rapidly as he visibly tightened his jaw, his teeth grinding within his mouth. “I teach you history three days a week, I grade your papers and I answer any questions you may have; that is my duty.”

“What does duty have to do with-” 

“Everything,” His voice had risen; trembling upon the line of full blown shouting. Shaking his head, he splayed a hand over his mouth; turning away from you slightly- you could only watch, hands shaking, as he visibly filed through his own thoughts, “I was allowed here to protect you, people like you. To protect people like me; not to expose them to my perverted inhibitions-” 

“Perverted?” You cackled, genuinely throwing your head backwards; the residual tension of humour and horror rising within your throat, “Erik, I am a completely willing adult-” 

He shook his head determinedly, “You are my student.” Shrugging, you cast your arms wide, wild eyes entirely unbridled as you stared at him; the fire within your soul could not be snuffed, ��Well, I won’t be soon. It’s almost summer and then my training is up; I’m free to do as I please.” You were visibly angered, voice clipped and cheeks blazing with heat, “Don’t leave because of me.” Emotions dimmed, you crossed your arms; swallowing, tongue between your teeth, “If anything, I’m just some silly little girl.” 

Sighing, he walked to his bed and sat upon it. His back was hunched; arms long in his lap as he refused to meet your eyes. So deep in his own state of emotional turmoil, your own internal vitriol cast no objection upon him. He seemed to be waiting; waiting for you to shout, to scream, to curse him for defiling your so-called perpetual innocence. You beat the rise of his voice with your own, “I’m not angry at you, Erik.”

He froze, his form stilling; arms encased within his lap as his eyes widened, his voice was low when he spoke, the syllables long and pained, “What?” 

Shaking your head, you tightened your jaw; willing your eyes to stop filling with tears, emotion overtaking you at his silence, his inability to just understand. You repeat yourself once again, “I’m not angry at you,” 

“Y/N, I don’t understand-” 

“I wanted it,” Swallowing, you faced your feelings; your doubts, head on, “I wanted all of it, just as much as you did.” 

He shook his head, standing and stepping forward; his hands spasmed at his side, desperate to reach out, to touch, “As I do,” You shook your head, confused, “Just as much as I do Y/N.” 

“Erik-” 

“We can’t tell anyone,” He was whispering now, a hand raised to brush the hair from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear, “Not until I’m no longer your professor.” A beat. “Do you understand me?” 

You nodded, immediate and fast, “Of course.” Ever obedient to his every command. 

“Good,” He gave you a closed-lipped smile, his cheeks crinkling, “Good girl.” 

Requiring no further confirmation, you leaped forward; gripping his face as you encased his lips with your own. As they met, he gasped your name like a prayer; the syllables sacred and protected, gasped in tandem with the beat of his heart and the rush of his own blood. The deafening waves of pleasure took power to your conscience as he walked the two of you backwards; kicking stray boxes from his path as the two of you crashed upon his bedsheets- the harsh lines of his body pressing you down, down into the velvet of his bedspread as you clawed at his shoulders. Keeping his lips upon yours, he moved a hand upwards, gripping at the hair at the base of your neck; he pulled then, your head tilting backward as he bit at the skin of your lip; devouring your mouth within his own and licking at the blood that he drew. You bent immediately to his will. 

Allowing your eyes to slip shut, pleasure and shock and desire admonishing any sense of awareness; you felt as he began to move downwards, his lips trailing upon the curve of your neck, the bend of your jaw and the skin beside your ear. His fingers danced at the edge of your shirt; inching it, slowly and carefully, upwards towards your armpits. You took it upon yourself to push him backwards, raising slightly only to reach down and pull the shirt off, over your head and onto his bedroom floor. You could only blink as his eyes caught upon the bare skin of your breasts that had laid beneath the singular layer, could only blink as he trailed their outline with his fingertips before trailing them further downwards, to the waistline of your pyjama pants. He stopped then, eyes raising to your own; past the rapid rise and fall of your burning chest, “Can I?”

Nodding hastily, you dragged a hand through his hair, watching as he manoeuvred both your pants and underwear over your hips and down your legs in one go, “Almost died when I saw these little shorts.” He practically sighed the words out, pressing a kiss to your upper thigh as he pulled the material over your knees. 

There, you laid completely naked beneath his entirely clothed form. The predetermined power dynamic existing between you was ever prevalent; but in that moment, you felt like the powerful one- empowered by the way his throat bobbed and eyes glistened at the expanse of your skin, by the way his hands lifted your thighs and the ghost of his breath warming the mound between them. Whimpering at the sensation, at the feeling of being watched by him; the burn of his gaze- you pleaded, begged with your own eyes, begging him to do something. Nodding, rubbing a soothing hand upon your thigh, he leant forward, testing the waters- planting a kiss upon your clit. You reacted instantly, jolting and tightening the hand within his hair; you felt him grin against the skin of your pussy, his breath releasing in chuffs. Then, he moved; dragging his tongue through your folds, the sensation lighting a fire within you as you collapsed backwards against the sheets; writhing, hand still secured within his hair as you pulled. 

It felt like hours, years, mere minutes as he lapped at you; his tongue making sinful, disgusting noises against you as his hands gripped at your hips; securing you down upon the bed as you attempted to writhe beneath the hold of his pleasure. Panting, your hair stuck to the damp skin of your lips as you threw your head to the side; finding purchase anywhere you could- you felt your orgasm begin to build, the tingling sensation burning within your abdomen, spreading to the hilt like wildfire. This wasn’t like when you would touch yourself to the thought of him, beneath your duvet; head held firmly to your pillow- this was free, unadulterated pleasure; your climax reaching faster than you could anticipate. 

Through the haze within your mind, through the scratch of your fingers upon his scalp; you found purchase to the last string of your own sentient conscience, “Erik, wait-’ He halted instantly, pulling back; his hair pointing in a number of directions and mouth ajar; he looked horrified, terrified at the thought of hurting you. Laughing, you shook your head; reaching forward to run a finger over his swollen red lips; you snorted, instantly spitting out an apology, “Sorry, I’m sorry I just-” Your voice was awash with humour as you spoke, grinning down at him, “I- I was going to cum.” 

“Ah,” He replied slowly; nodding as he scratched at the base of his head; his gaze was shy from beneath his eyelashes. 

You couldn’t wipe the grin from your face as you watched him, reaching forward to pull him upwards until he faced you directly, as the cotton of his tank top brushed against the skin of your breasts; you realised with stark clarity that he was still fully dressed. With a glance downwards, you spoke, “I think you need to match me here.” 

Cocking an eyebrow, he tilted his face; smirking down at you as he moved a hand to dissect the hair from your face and lips, “Do I now?” 

“Yes, I think so.” Nodding, you dragged the strap of his top from his shoulders with your pointer finger; tracing the wiry muscles of his bare arms propped above you as you did so. He rose then, grinning at your dejected moan as he moved to pull the top over his head; exposing the expanse of his chest; small, pink nipples and dusty hair painting a trail down his naval. His form was muscular yet thin; the outlines of muscles existent like ivy wrapped around his biceps, strong yet undefined. You walked two fingers upon his naval, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants as you smiled toothily up at him; he rolled his eyes before pulling down his pants, allowing his cock to spring free. 

You spent a long moment willing your eyes not to widen; fearful of breaking the finely held thread of tension- his dick was, what Jean would describe as, ‘Boyfriend Material’. You hadn’t understood the term when she’d said it during your recent trip to the cinema, shaking your head as she betted that Scott ‘definitely had a boyfriend material dick’. When you had tried to discuss what Erik’s dick might be like; she had simply gagged, waving her hand exasperatedly as she begged you not to discuss such a thing. 

But you definitely understood what she had meant now. 

“Hey,” A voice said in front of your face, Erik, in the midst of your personal vignette- Erik had lowered himself back down; arms braced above your head as he smiled down at you, head quirked to the side. Grinning back, you wrapped your arms around the base of his neck before bringing him down into a soft, slow kiss. It was the slowest kiss the two of you had experienced so far; not fueled by abrupt pleasure or the weight of confession- the two of you simply existed, within his bedroom with the flat-packed boxes; upon his silk sheets. You felt it as he breathed you in, inhaling heavily through his nose as he continued to move his lips upon yours. When he pulled back to allow you to breathe, his mouth was visibly curved downwards with emotion; his thumb traced the skin of your jaw before tracing the skin of your lips, tracing where his own had just been.

His lips quivered; pink and wet with the sheen of your combined saliva, “Have you ever-?” He questioned, his eyes flickering downwards; you shook your head meekly, swallowing heavily as he nodded; a sweet, sincere smile curling the edges of his mouth, “Okay, darling.” He cooed, reaching upwards to tuck your hair behind your ear, smooth a hand over the red of your cheeks. 

You found your voice, watching him through the flutter of your eyelashes; his bare skin and ruffled hair- the parts of him that you had never seen before, that he was allowing you to see, “Never got the chance, having superpowers and all.” 

He laughed, nodding down at you, eyes glistening with adornment, almost as if he were in love. Though his face turned serious then, mouth straightening and eyebrows creasing as he looked upon you, “You can say no, sweetheart. We don’t have to-” 

“I want to,” You cut in, nodding determinedly up at him; reaching up to smooth out the crease of his brow, “More than anything.” 

He kissed you then; his hand instantly moving to cup your jaw, the other moving to caress the skin of your thigh; procuring a sickly, sweet burn that caused you to pant against his lips; his own instantly curling into a smirk as he felt you do so. As his fingers met the hilt of your thigh, sliding between the heat above; he lowered his head until he came face-to-face with the pebbling skin of your nipple before placing his tongue upon it, twirling and flicking the bud as you gasped, back arching against the damp sheets below. You couldn’t help the almost pitiful moan of his name that left your lips, your eyes squeezed closed and head thrown back against his pillow; you felt him grin against the underside of your breast, his ministrations against the juxtaposing cold of your breast and the warmth of your clit causing deafening sensations to ricochet within your stomach. The twists of pleasure allowing only whispers of his name within your mind. 

Unable to do anything but lay there, you grit your teeth as he slid a finger into your heat; the length of it procuring a pinching pain as you winced. Pausing, he stroked the skin of your thigh; pressing a kiss there as he watched your face for any further signs of pain, “Tell me if it hurts too much.” He spoke into the skin of your thigh, you nodded down at him, granting a reassuring smile as he turned back to watch his hand- pushing the finger deeper and swiping at your clit as he did so. Soon, the pinching pain turned to pleasure; your muscles loosening as you realised that this, actually, felt good. Soon you were a moaning mess within his hands; three fingers within you as he bent you to his will with the curve of his dexterous hands. Those hands that weld so much power, able to inflict so much pleasure.

Eventually, you grasped at his shoulders; panting and moaning as your nails pressed crescent moons into the skin there, “Please,” You moaned, eyes watering as you begged him, “Please I need more.”

He rose instantly, cock hard and aloft as he moved to his bedside table; retrieving a condom from the depths of it. He rolled it upon himself, before propping himself above you once again, his cock held at your entrance. He rubbed it between your folds, once, twice; his condom instantly covered in your own juices, before he looked up at you; one step away from the finale. “Sweetheart, are you sure?” 

Nodding, you bared yourself down upon him; lifting your legs to brace his hips. He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised and chin lowered as he watched you; visibly demanding verbal confirmation, “Yes, Erik, yes. I’m ready.” 

Letting out a shuddering moan, he needed no further confirmation; inserting himself within the space he had enlarged- eyes instantly rolling back as he did so. He was not forceful as he inched himself inwards; his eyes did not stray from your face, searching for any sign of pain or resignation. You did not show any, mouth ajar and eyes wide as you moaned his name; legs tightening around the bracket of his hips. Upon reaching the hilt, he lowered himself to your chest; burying his face into the curve of your neck, the skin instantly growing wet with the humidity of his moans and your own sweat. “Is this okay?” He whispered, mouthing at your neck as he remained completely still; you nodded before shifting your hips, smiling as you felt the rush of breath against your neck. He instantly began to move; sinking home and immediately abandoning it as he methodically pushed in and out; his abdomen grinding against your clit. 

“Beautiful, so beautiful,” The sounds were more visceral moans than words as his hands steadfastly clutched your hips; procuring sounds that you didn’t believe to be possible to fall from your mouth; garbling mixtures of his name and indiscernible pleading. The sweat congregating between your bodies was slick and hot; the fibres of your beings connected at every last point as you moved together. You knew for a fact that you looked sincerely debauched; but with Erik whispering and moaning into your ear; you could hardly register a second thought as you sunk into the pleasure he allowed you. He too looked a mess when he moved from your neck; hair damp at the ends from sweat and eyes scrunched shut; mouth falling open as he seemed entirely lost to the verisimilitude of pleasure. He had never looked so beautiful, so unruly- the strict, formal clothing a distant memory as he moaned and whimpered and gasped above you. 

You felt your high reaching slowly as his abdomen brushed against your clit; the methodical movements torturous in their sporadicity. However, the moment he moved his thumb to your clit; you knew the end was near. He moved it in time with his thrusts, causing your mind to go blissfully blank as you could think of nothing but your fast approaching orgasm. The noise that left you as you came was barely a sound at all; head thrown back and eyes closed as your breaths crackled. You felt it as Erik came with you, hips stuttering and pulsing as he groaned for a long moment above you. He collapsed upon you then, the both of you panting together as you laid there in the pool of sweat formed upon his sheets. 

A large hand cupped the back of your head as you came back to yourself, a low voice humming praise and compliments into your ear as you came to. The cold air hit you for a moment as Erik pulled himself out of you, disposing of the condom before lifting you into his arms; pulling back the duvet and depositing you into the warmth of his bed. 

Sleep tinged the edges of your vision; though you couldn’t get one thought out of your mind, “Please don’t leave.” The words were barely a whisper, spoken into the darkness of his bedroom. 

Erik shuffled beside you, sighing before wrapping you up in his arms; comforting and secure “I won’t leave you sweetheart, not again.” 

[httpknjoon]

the truth, the lie, and the surprise | jjk

plot | After Wooshik receives the surprise meant for your boyfriend, Jungkook is put in an interrogation situation to talk about his undisclosed relationship with a certain 'Princess'.

words | 1.6k+

genres | fluff, crack,  secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au

pairing | jungkook x reader

note | this one's long overdue! the end is coming for this series. enjoy reading.

main masterlist  |  drabble series masterlist

“I really feel like I’m not your friend anymore.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics. His eyes have traveled everywhere in the diner except to Wooshik, who’s sitting in front of him. Jungkook looks down at his chocolate milkshake, playing with the straw while listening to his friend. 

This all began with the surprise flower arrangement you sent for him– which he loved by the way. It was special for him, especially since you included tiger lilies, his favorite flower, in the center of the arrangement. It was his first time receiving one and he would have loved indulging in the fleeting feeling of having flowers sent to him. But, just less than an hour ago, Wooshik received the said delivery sent by you meant for him. At that point, Jungkook knew he had to reveal his relationship status because how else would you explain someone sending his flowers a day before Valentine’s? 

At first, his stomach dropped when Wooshik asked him who Princess was. But now, sitting here in the diner near the bowling alley they initially talked about going to, he just keeps on biting his inner cheek to stop himself from smiling or even chuckling at how dramatic Wooshik is.

Wooshik continued after taking a sip from his ice-cold soda, “You know? I feel like you’re keeping secrets from me. I’m your best friend, Kook. Why are you hiding stuff from me? I never hide anything from you.”

That’s when Jungkook had to interfere, “Freshman year, 2015. You didn’t tell me you got to go out with Grace Lee for not just one– or two– or three dates with her. You two went out for like a month. You knew that–”

“Okay. maybe that. But that was one time and she came on to me in Bryan’s house party.” Wooshik defended himself, maintaining the same narrative he told him years ago when Jungkook found out about him and the girl he had his eyes on in the first couple of months of their freshman year.

“Okay. Then, this is my one time too,” Jungkook replied, leaning back to the vibrant red faux leather of the diner booth.

“Yeah, but this one’s pretty serious. I mean, she sent you flowers! And everything is starting to make sense now.” 

Wooshik recalled how his best friend gradually stayed lowkey every time they would go out. He was beginning to wonder why Jungkook stopped entertaining women who would come up to him at bars or any other place they went to. Plus, in Wooshik’s knowledge before this, Jungkook has been single for too long. It is unusual not just to him, but to everyone in your friend group. Jungkook used to be the subject of teasing by everyone because of how he struggled to commit to a relationship.

“Did you not tell about this because we bet on your relationships a long time ago?” he asked, recollecting when he, Jenny, Blaire, and occasionally Dara would take bets on how long his relationship would last. You always just laugh at them doing that but never join.

“Maybe,” Jungkook answered shortly. It is one of the factors you and him decided to stay private about your growing relationship.

“Why keep her a secret? Does she know you’re keeping her a secret?” Wooshik began throwing rapid-fire questions.

Jungkook remained calm, “Yes, she knows. It’s a decision we made. We’re not totally a secret, we’re just private.”

“What?” his best friend mumbled, confusion written all over his face. “What’s the difference— Has she met your mom?!”

“Yes, a thousand times.” 

“And she never told me about it?!” he exclaimed.

Being friends for almost half of their lives now, Wooshik is basically Jungkook’s adoptive brother. He is close to his parents, especially to his mom, who treats him as her own. They would call each other at times like a real mother and son. But knowing these two people in his life, Jungkook knows that there was probably a time when his mom probably slipped on telling Wooshik about you. But he probably missed it.

“Okay, just ask anything right now. I’ll answer anything I can.” 

“Is Princess her name? Or it’s just some kind of nickname?” Wooshik asked.

“A nickname.”

“How long have you been together?”

There was this weird tension in the air when Wooshik asked him these questions. Jungkook finds it funny that he feels like a criminal being interrogated by an officer, who is just his friend being naive and curious at the same time.

“More than two years,” Jungkook replied, looking straight into his friend’s eyes. That’s when he sees Wooshik’s eyes get bigger as more realizations set in his head.

“Two years?! Have I met her before?” he asked so loudly that the couple from the table next to them looked in their direction.

His tone was almost accusatory. Out of context, if you’re a stranger listening to these two men, you would assume that they are a couple and that Jungkook cheated on Wooshik. Jungkook turned his head to the couple and slightly bowed his head to offer a silent apology for the bother. Then, he looked back at his friend.

“Yes, you already did.” 

Wooshik’s jaw dropped to the diner’s checkered floor. He was left with no words while trying to recall every woman he met around Jungkook. He tried to trace back every woman he met because of him. But with him having a brain like a sieve, it’s hopeless. And as if Wooshik’s jaw can get lower, Jungkook continued.

“A lot of times already actually.”

Is it rude that Jungkook is enjoying this? At this point, he is just teasing his best friend for his reactions. Feeling his mouth run dry, Wooshik closed his mouth.

“Am I… the only one who didn’t know about this?” he asked slowly, admittedly feeling a little dumb with not realizing this secret Jungkook had been keeping.

“Will it make you less offended about this whole thing if I tell you you're the first to know in our friend group?”

Wooshik nods his head slowly, “Maybe.”

“Okay.” Jungkook nods. “You are the only one who knows.”

He smiled even wider, knowing full damn well that he is lying.

An hour after they arrived there, the two ended up walking back home after finishing their drinks at the diner. The plans of going to the bowling alley next door were all gone when Wooshik remembered that he had lesson plans and school activities needed to prepare for the upcoming week.

“So, Princess. Two years. I met her before. I’m the first one to know.” Wooshik recited every vital information he learned today.

“Yup.” Jungkook nods.

As soon as they got back in his house, Jungkook was asked of another question.

“Will you ever introduce her to me and everyone?” 

And without even pausing for a second, he replied, “Of course. We already talked about that.”

Because you two did. A few times before and after you drunkenly revealed your relationship to Blaire. But there is still no crystal clear plan for it. Just discussions that sometime this year, you will tell your friends about everything.

“When? When are we gonna meet her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll just surprise you.” Jungkook laughed.

Later that day, Jungkook went to your place. You just got home from your Galentine’s Day celebration with your friends. You gave him a small box of vanilla cupcakes you baked on your own during the baking class you, Jennie, Blaire, and Dara took that day. Your boyfriend also took notice of your newly dyed hair, complimenting you on the color you chose. He then thanked you for the flowers and what escalated after receiving them. You two exchange stories about your equally eventful day while Bam sleeps on his soft bed in the corner of your living room. 

“And what did he say when he learned about how long we’ve been together?” you excitedly asked with a grin already forming on your face.

Instead of answering your question, Jungkook acted out Wooshik’s reaction. It was exactly like what was in your head. You laughed, softly slapping his arm. He smiled before turning his head again back again to his sketch pad, that you bought some time ago at a dollar store. He has been sketching since you handed him that pad minutes ago.

“He didn’t overreact, did he?” you asked, a little worry can be heard in your tone.

Jungkook looks up, sensing the tone. He smiled while reaching for your hand, “It’s Wooshik. Of course, he overreacts.”

Unexpecting that, the tightness in your chest cleared off and was instantly forgotten as you laughed. Jungkook chuckled too.

“Anyway, what do you think about this? Do you think this is something you would love to have on your skin forever?” He then turned his sketch pad to you, showing you what he’s been working on.

You gasped, “Babe, I love it!” 

You reached for the pad and looked at the different pieces he drew. Since you brought up the idea of getting matching tattoos during your recent picnic date, you also asked him to draw the tattoo you two would get to make it more special. You would draw it yourself but you knew Jungkook is much better of an artist than you.

You snapped a picture of the drawing, “I’ll send these to the artist and maybe we can get it tattooed tomorrow.”

“Are you getting them all?!” he asked as he drew three separate objects that symbolize something from each other.

“Yeah, I know I cannot just choose one from any of them.”

TAGLIST (closed)

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[superblysubpar]

<- part one | part three -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: The week of the bet begins with a bang.

the song: Bodybag by chloe moriondo

also for your listening pleasure: Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran / The Girl is Mine by Michael Jackson & Paul McCartney / I Can't Go For That by Daryl Hall & John Oates

4,024 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / underage alcohol consumption & mentions / slut shaming from idiot/asshole teens | my blog is 18+

A house on Cornwallis Street - the past

The beat from the drums in the Duran Duran song playing throbbed, the speakers physically pulsing as you passed them. Your heels stuck to the kitchen tiles as you entered the room that had been your sanctuary for the past hour. Once the beer had been moved to the living room and the chip bowls thoroughly destroyed, the sticky vodka bottles and punch that looked like something died in it weren’t visited as frequently as they had been at the start of the night. 

So it was there, forearms pressed to the edge of the sink as you lifted a foot and rolled your ankle, then the next, with a soft and maybe too sensual sigh of relief, that Steve Harrington finally caught you alone. 

“New shoes?”

You spun, forgetting the teeny tiny sticks beneath your heels didn’t really care for quick movements or aiding in the process of balancing. 

He caught your forearm, fingers curled around your wrist as you settled. Like he was reminded he wasn’t supposed to like you, he dropped it, fingers running through the darkening hair he was keeping longer now instead as you lied. 

“No.”

Steve squinted at you, taking a sip out of red cup, mumbling into the plastic with a snort, “Sure.”

Your arms crossed, now acutely aware of the fact that the entire outfit you’d been in all night was much more revealing than anything you’d worn around him before. Eyes focused on the denim cut off a little too high on your thighs and the sliver of skin between the top of the mini skirt and your borrowed pink top as you accused, “What are you doing here?”

Steve took a step closer, white Adidas kicking a forgotten red solo cup as he did. 

“Funny,” he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “Was just about to ask you the same thing.”

As you glanced up, you couldn’t help but notice the dark blue of his polo was starting to get tight around his shoulders and biceps.

Couldn’t help but look at his eyes that were unwavering in their gaze on you. Which all only made your skin hot, made you need to look away and pretend you were looking for something on the counter littered in trash. 

“Where else would I be, Harrington?” 

Steve was right behind you as he hummed, “Anywhere else. Literally, anywhere but a house party.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You spun with the biting accusation, the little black heels now your arch nemesis as they wobbled beneath unsteady ankles again. Steve caught your waist that time, bodies closer together as you fell back against the counter. 

He didn’t let go, his finger resting just above the denim, right against your skin. 

“It means,” he swallowed, exhaling a shaky breath as he leaned in and explained, voice taking on a tone that seemed like he was quoting something. Or someone. “That I thought you were better than stale beer and shitty conversation with idiots.”

A flash of an argument with your friend Robin in the hallway ghosted across your memory, making your lips part, but only a small noise escaped them. 

The movement and sound had Steve’s eyes glancing down, his adams apple bobbing. It had him squeeze at your hip involuntarily, had you wondering if it was possible for skin to spontaneously catch on fire. 

“I love beer,” you finally managed to sputter out while wondering if he always had those two freckles on his cheek and if he did, why could you suddenly not look away from them as they lifted with his smirk. 

“Yeah?” He offered his cup out to you, “Have at it, honey.”

Maybe it was the challenge in his eyes. Or that word, honey, that made you do it - made you aware of how close you were to the boy you’d always hated and how he wasn’t the one you came with. 

You took the cup and kept eye contact as the rim met your lips, kept it while the bitter liquid washed over your tongue. You kept it still, as you wondered if it was the color of his eyes or the alcohol that had your stomach warm and fizzing with something abnormal. 

“For the record,” you whispered after your fingers swiped at your lips, “I do hate shitty conversation with idiots. I came in here for a drink for my boyfriend.”

Steve blinked, like he hadn’t heard anything you’d said since you took the cup from him and that wonderful pride swelled in your chest with the thought that you’d successfully gotten the ball back to your side of the court. 

You cocked your head and blinked innocent eyes up at him, “Brenden Peterson? Junior? I think you’re on the basketball team with him…or well…” you winced, “You’re on the bench of the team he plays for…”

Steve’s hand dropped from your waist as boisterous calls came from the other room, shouting about spin the bottle. Tina’s voice carried over the music that dulled to something quieter, Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney singing about loving the same girl. Your name called in her shrill squeal, asking if you were playing. 

“Absolutely!” You yelled, still too close to Steve, “I love spin the bottle!”

You were sure it was the beer on your tongue that made the words slip over it, then out of cherry glossed lips so easily. 

Not the way Steve Harrington was looking at you. That had nothing to do with it. 

Nothing at all. 

Steve finally made a noise, scoffing as you shimmied out from his spot keeping you against the counter, wandering closer to the rowdy boys cheering at your agreeability to the suggested game. 

His jaw pulsed as you sipped out of the solo cup and made eye contact with him over the rim. He hated that something deep in his biology or wherever it came from had him suddenly panicked he’d pop a boner when your tongue darted out to catch amber liquid and foam from a pouted bottom lip. 

He hated that he followed you into that room. 

That he sat across from you in that circle. 

He hated what happened next. 

You were looking around the room, eyebrows furrowed together as a girl named Carol patted the carpet next to her and told you to sit. Brendan wasn’t in the room and as you looked around the circle, you caught Steve looking right at you with a challenge in his eyes not unsimilar to the one you just had in the kitchen. 

So you leaned forward and yelled, “Me first!” 

The circle ooh’ed, Steve looked anywhere but your chest as you crawled to the center and your fingers spun the green bottle. 

You were settled on your knees, blinking down at the slowing bottle and silently screaming for it to keep spinning, keep spinning, keep…

Carol yelled out an “Oh La La!” and boys snickered as the green bottle finally stopped right between Steve Harrington and Tommy H. 

“I-I just spin again, right?” You went to do so, panicking as Tina laughed from somewhere on your right. 

“Nope! Gotta kiss both boys!” 

“But I-“

“Oh, come on!” Carol moaned, snickering, “It’s just a kiss! Or two!”

You hesitated, hating the way Tommy grinned at you and Steve continued to stare at the carpet. 

“Wait,” someone in the circle laughed, “You’ve kissed a guy before, right?”

Another person whispered, “Dude, that’s Brendan’s latest conquest. The one who…in the back of his…”

Your vision got a little blurry, the room suddenly too warm.

“Come on, I don’t bite,” Tommy shrugged, lifting his eyebrows up and smirking. “Unless you want me to.”

Steve’s fingers clenched into fists on his knees, he finally looked up at you and whispered, “You don’t have to-“

His words were cut off as you grabbed Tommy’s collar and pulled him towards you. Lips colliding in a kiss that made the circle cheer, wet lips and tongue and you pulled away with a gasp. Grabbing at Steve who looked shocked but his hand landed on your waist as your noses bumped. 

You took a deep breath, your eyelids started to flutter closed when you heard, “What do we have here?”

Brendan stood to the side of the circle, a tilted head of mussed blond hair. He laughed as he gestured to the circle, “Wow, you really will just do whatever guys ask you to, huh?”

Looking around the circle, everyone snickered into drinks or looked at you then Brendan, waiting for more of the show. 

“I-“

“You what?” Brendan interrupted, eliciting more laughs and your eyes started to burn, cheeks too hot when Brendan nodded at Steve and scoffed,

“Enjoy my sloppy seconds.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and when Tommy started to laugh, “Oh no, she’s cry-“

Steve elbowed him and whispered your name.

You shoved at him and stood, ready to bolt, when you saw the girl standing just behind Brendan with the purple mark blossoming on her neck.

Your jaw clenched as you took a step, then another, Brendan too focused on laughing at you with his buddies to care until he was doused in beer. 

The music stopped, the circle fell silent, and Brendan blinked through foam, swiping at his eyes as he growled, “What the fu-“

“Enjoy continuing to fail freshman level biology, getting kicked off the basketball team, and going absolutely fucking nowhere in your life, Brendan.”

You threw the crumpled red solo cup at his face as you tried to leave the room with some ounce of grace on the stupid heels you couldn’t wait to never see again. 

The slam of the front door behind you rattled the framed photos inside as much as the sob in your lungs did to your breath. Your fingers pressed to your lips as you blinked back the hot tears that wanted to pour out of you. 

“Hey,” a quiet voice from your left called, “You okay?”

A boy was leaning on his elbows in the grass, curly brown hair that was a little too long catching in the breeze, a lit cigarette dangling between his lips. He looked familiar, like you’d seen him in the back of the band room or somewhere in the first few months at Hawkins High. 

He looked you over and shook his head with a grimace, “Yeah, no, that’s not an okay face.”

“I’m fi-fine,” you managed to hiccup out. 

“Well, fine,” he groaned like a person much older than the boy he was as he stood, “I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.”

A laugh left you, despite the tears still trailing down your cheeks. You swiped at them and told him your actual name. 

Eddie nodded and twisted the toe of a black boot into the cigarette now on the ground. “Still nice to meet you, but far less cool and interesting of a name than ‘Fine’ if you ask me.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Eddie,” you waved a little, hugged your arms around yourself and started down the driveway, only stopping to kick off your black heels and leave them in the grass. As you began again, now barefoot, his voice carried on the early autumn breeze. 

“Hey, Fine!” 

He grinned when you turned, and he held up his hands in surrender as he spoke. “Tell me to fuck off, but whatever just happened inside is not worth your time or energy, but you know what is?”

You sighed, and waved your hand towards him, “I suppose you’re gonna tell me yourself?”

He beamed and held a hand to his chest covered in some sort of skull and snake design, “Well, that probably remains to be seen. I do have a whole presentation on the value of having a Munson for a friend, but, nah, I was gonna say cherry pie.”

That laugh left you again, and Eddie only smiled wider at the sound, a dimple poking out on his cheek. 

You looked at him, then the house behind him, then down at the heels in the grass. 

“Can we stop and get me new shoes?”

“Can we…?” Eddie looked at you incredulously, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t think of bringing you to get cherry pie without sneakers on your feet.”

He waved to a van a few cars down the street, bowing, “Your chariot awaits, ma’lady.”

By the time Steve got outside, bruised and bloody knuckles hung limply at his sides as he watched a van round the corner of his street, then disappear. 

A house on Cornwallis Street - the present

His fingers press the top of the alarm clock at precisely five fifty-nine am on Monday morning, the red glow of clock telling him he’s up too early yet again. 

He doesn’t drive Robin to school anymore, he doesn’t have to be at work till nine thirty, but he’s kind of used to his routine now.

And it’s not like he was sleeping anyways. 

His old Hawkins High swim team t-shirt slips over his head as he sighs, hands rubbing and slapping at his cheeks as he thinks about how he hasn’t really slept all weekend. He’s lacing his sneakers up as he thinks about how he definitely didn’t sleep on Friday. 

Not after he let you inside, and you smiled at him like that. After he yelled about how this wasn’t a fair bet and how Eddie upped the stakes to three hundred dollars then, the ‘arch nemesis’ clause as he put it. 

He holds his ankle in the driveway, pulling his leg up and stretching it, then the other, glaring at the red sign on the front lawn in the hazy morning sun beginning to rise. He starts down the sidewalk, but sees the house on the corner and decides that after an entire weekend of revisiting memory lane, he doesn’t need to physically go down the literal lane of his past mistakes and regrets. 

His feet thump on the ground in time with the Duran Duran song playing in his walkman. 

Family Video - the present

Daryl Hall and John Oates voices abruptly stop when you slam the stop button on your walkman due to the sight in front of you. 

Your feet straddle the baby blue bike, docs pressed to the pavement as you glare at the maroon car idling in the parking lot. 

He has his head leaned back against the head rest, eyes closed. His arms are crossed over the green vest while Tears for Fears plays out the open window quietly. 

Pulling your headphones down around your neck, you slam your hand on the hood of his car and Steve jumps in his seat, blinking profusely and swiping at his eyes before he glares at you.

“What are you doing here?” You accuse, fingers gripping your handlebars.

Steve rolls his eyes then his window up. He yanks his keys from the ignition, the sudden loss of the vehicles noises making the cicadas and frogs in the pond across the street louder. 

He gets out and squints at you as he slams the door. 

“Cute helmet.”

You quickly snap it off, cheeks warming as you shove your bike lock into a wheel and glare at him from your new crouched position. 

“Again,” you snap the lock closed, “Why are you here?”

Steve sighs, leaning against the storefront’s window. “We open at ten, do we not?”

“We,” you laughed, sticking your key into the front door with the shake of your head, “Don’t do anything. You work in the afternoon all week. With Robin. I’m alone in the mornings until we-“

“Find a replacement for Tracy. Yeah,” Steve bites the inside of his cheek, pointing his finger like he’s just remembered something, “Keith said something about that. But, well, I volunteered for extra shifts, to help out while we’re short staffed for summer.”

You pull the key from the lock and narrow your eyes. “You what?”

Steve smiles at you, freckles on his cheek lifting as he shows off perfect teeth. “What can I say, I’m just a nice guy.”

You actually yell out a, “Ha!” with your head thrown back as you open the front door, not caring to hold it open for him. 

“You…you…” you stomp towards the back room as you search for the right words, “Slimy, sneaky…”

“Sexy?” Steve provides, following you.

“No.” You spin with the word, not expecting him to be so close behind you.

He stops just as abruptly as you, face mere centimeters from yours, both of you having the cover of the slow to buzz on overhead lights to steal breaths and find your composure once more. 

Steve sighs, walking past you towards the wall where time cards are kept. “Listen, if it’s actually that terrible to work with me, I can call Keith again. But I really would appreciate the extra shifts.”

You hang your helmet on a hook and push your own card into the machine, skepticism evident in your voice as you ask, “You need the extra shifts?”

Steve faces your profile, and you feel his gaze lingering on your cheek as he whispers, “Well, yeah. I’m about to be out three hundred dollars in a week.”

Turning to face him, you finally take in his appearance. The sincere look in his eyes is almost overshadowed by the circles under them, the frown of his pink lips almost forgotten due to the stubble surrounding them that’s not normally there. 

Your silence seems to mean something to him though, because the frown becomes a smirk, and his head tilts as he asks, “Or am I not?”

“Not what?” 

His smirk becomes a full smile, “Not gonna be out three hundred bucks. See something you like, babe?”

And just like that, it’s gone. 

Your eyes roll as your shoulder bumps his on the way to the coffee pot.

“In your dreams, Harrington.”

He watches you press start on the coffee, sitting on top of the break rooms table with crossed arms over a plain blue t-shirt. 

“Bet you’d like that.”

You fiddle with the cream you’ve pulled out of the fridge, the clipboard of tasks Keith left for the week. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, keeping your tone bored, willing the minutes of this day to go by faster. 

Steve’s voice is quieter, and closer to you as he says, “If I dreamt about you.”

Spinning at his words, cream canister in one hand, coffee mug in the other almost colliding with his chest. You blink at him as he continues, “Bet you’d like it even more if I told you what we did in those dreams.”

Your back hits the counter, not realizing Steve took a step closer as he spoke and there was nowhere for you to avoid how good he smelled or how what he was saying was making you sure there was something wrong with your stomach. Nowhere to avoid the eyes that look at you unashamed, and you could swear dare to seem hopeful. 

Until he’s grinning, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

And doesn’t he?

Steve taps the counter behind you twice with two of his fingers and hums. 

“On second thought, maybe you should take my afternoon shifts. Looks like I’m not the one who’s gonna be needing the extra cash after all.”

He leaves, whistling a song you can’t quite place, but it itches at your skin, demanding to be felt like the burn of his words left on your cheeks. 

You shake your head, and fix your coffee. This is not happening. Despite Robin and Eddie vouching for the new and improved Harrington, you will never, ever, believe it. 

You will never let him win. 

Especially after the first morning shift with him. 

When the store opens at ten, there are three cars in the lot already, families stocking up on weekly rentals. Kids are in and out, shouting about candy and horror movie marathons. Steve and you are both behind the counter for most of the shift dealing with returns and large purchases, arms bumping too many times to count. It’s when his hands land on your hips as you threaten to topple over with the stack of tapes you were desperate to get out on the shelves in the lull, that you both notice you’re finally alone again for the first time in four hours. 

Steve’s breath hits your neck, making you even warmer with a murmured, “You’re welcome,” when you gasp out a thanks. He drops his hands quickly and squints up at the ceiling, then out the front doors. 

The sky has turned darker, gray and gloomy, and you wouldn’t be surprised if a typical summer thunderstorm was rolling in. 

Steve leans against the counter, the back of his hand swiping through his hair as the other fiddles with the TV remote. He turns off The Breakfast Club, switching to a cable station. You keep your back to him as he’s surely staring at the news anchor’s chest that most men in Hawkins want to suffocate in, until he mutters, “Knew it.”

“That Lucy Lebrock’s boobs were fake?” You mumble, stacking tapes.

Steve snorts out a laugh and then he gasps, standing up straighter, “Holy shit. Are they really?”

“Honestly, Harrington, look at them.” You spin and gesture to the TV and whisper, “Oh, fuck.”

“I know,” Steve nods, biting the inside of his lip as he glances out the store windows again. 

Lucy points to a map showing a massive storm inching closer to Hawkins, red banner announcing a tornado watch for surrounding areas. 

Steve and you continue to watch, leaning against the counter next to each other in silence as Lucy tells everyone about tornado safety. 

“I cannot believe they’re not real. You’re right. I really am an idiot.” Steve’s whisper finally breaks the silence. 

You snort, covering your mouth with your hand, hiding your laugh but your eyes sparkle when he looks at you. 

And then a loud clap of thunder booms overhead, like the universe itself is warning you of what’s happening, of the danger just around the corner. 

Then the power goes out. 

It all happens quickly after that, and yet, each moment lingers, like it’s making sure you’re committing it all to memory. 

There’s a moment where you grab Steve’s arm and he grabs your hip. 

One where you both jump a part, shouting sorry too loud.

There’s another, that threatens to steal your breath when Steve holds his vest over your head as you squint through rain streaming down your face as you lock the front door, the ‘Sorry we’re closed’ sign swinging behind the glass erratically as you inhale cedar and mint.

Then one, that grabs something inside of your chest and squeezes, when you start towards your bike and Steve slips his fingers between yours and tugs, shouting over the rain, “Don’t be stupid!”

There’s several filled with the splashes of your feet in puddles as he tugs you towards the BMW’s passenger side, unlocking it and racing around the hood himself. 

One that’s silent, save for rain pelting the metal roof, and both of your heavy breaths fogging up the glass. 

Then the sirens start going off, Steve’s fingers shake as he starts the car, swiping water from his eyes with the other. 

“My…my apartment. It’s on the other side of…”

Steve shakes his head, backing out carefully as the wipers work faster than what seems possible, and yet they do nothing to aid in his ability to see out the windshield. 

“Honey, you’re crazy if you think I’m taking you anywhere other than my house that has a full basement and an emergency storm kit Robin made me make with her last summer.”

Honey. 

The word lingers, swooshed away with the sound of the wipers and the Duran Duran song that scratches the itch that lingered all morning spilling out of the car’s speakers. It disappears with the spin of tires on the wet pavement as they take you to Cornwallis Street. 

Tag List - thanks for your endless patience and excitement for this and sorry for the delay in posting today 💛

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

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[sv5hive]

too little, too late. | lh44

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

content warning(s): angst, swearing, lewis is a bit of a dick in this sorry, unhappy ending because i love being miserable 🫶🏻

word count: 1,763

note: thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs on my first work a few days ago!! i didn't expect all the love so it is very, very appreciated :) this is a bit long so get comfy! and i also listened to you're losing me by taylor swift while writing so... yeah.

(psst! part 2 is here!)

(masterlist!)

memories from the night you two met flashed through your mind as you stood alone in the dim kitchen. the hangover from the next morning meant most of the night was a blur of shots, flashing lights and sweaty bodies but those deep brown eyes and endearing smile remained sharply in focus.

you stared at the two cold plates of dinner abandoned on the table and a bottle of wine nearing the end.

where had it all gone wrong?

six years.

six years of supporting him through everything.

and you loved being with lewis no matter what. seeing him in his element while racing was just as exciting for you as it was for him. but when would it end? you couldn't keep your life on pause forever.

back in 2017 when you first started dating you discussed a life of peace. a life with a big family and a nice house in england where your children could grow up normally like the both of you did. and you weren't foolish. you would never truly have peace when you were in a relationship with lewis hamilton, the face of formula 1. but you were willing to give up any sense of normality if it meant you could be with the love of your life.

or so you thought.

years passed as you watched all your friends get engaged and married, settle down and start their own families. at every bachelorette party, wedding reception, baby shower, family event you would be asked the same questions.

"when is he going to pop the question? you two have to get married! i bet he's planning to do it soon."

and every time you would have the same response.

"oh we're just taking it slow. he's pretty busy with racing and we both agreed that it wouldn't be fair for him to be away so much."

and you really did believe that at first.

either you didn't notice the stares of pity or you ignored them to convince yourself that everything was ok. it was only when you brought up the idea of finally having kids that you started doubting yourself.

"hey, lew. i've been thinking."

"hmm, yeah? what about." he replied absentmindedly, still searching netflix for a good movie to watch.

you passed him the bowl of popcorn to hold while you got under the blanket.

"i was thinking that we're finally ready to start a family."

he stilled. that was the last thing he thought you would bring up.

"lewis?"

"i want a family too, you know that. but i can't retire without getting that eighth championship. we're almost there. besides, i don't wanna leave you at home with a kid and not be there for every step of the way."

both of you knew at the rate mercedes was going, lewis would need a miracle and a half to win another title against red bull and their rocket ship.

he avoided your eyes and clearly thought that was the end of the matter so you accepted that when he was ready he would tell you. right?

you tossed and turned that night, unable to get the way he brushed off the topic so coldly out of your head. did you imagine it? that flicker of hesitance on his face? a pit of uneasiness settled at the bottom of your stomach as you desperately tried to reason with yourself. no. everything is fine. you had already waited a few years. what was a couple more?

so you tucked away your dreams of a family into the back of your mind for the time being and just enjoyed your relationship with lewis. every date felt like the first and you never wanted your love to end.

"lewis...this is too much!" as you stared in awe at the lone table in the middle of a completely empty restaurant.

rose petals led you two all the way from the entrance to a table with a single rose stood in a vase in the centre as candles flickered softly.

"for you? never."

staring at him in the golden light, you couldn't help but blush at his romantic gesture. he was making up for being away during a triple header and you hated to admit it but you could get used to this.

racing. you smiled at the thought of seeing lewis race. it was like seeing an artist produce a masterpiece every time pencil hit paper. he truly was an incredible sight to see.

you were there for each of his championships since 2017. you witnessed the joy of 2020 and the heartbreak of 2021. you were there, celebrating each win with him and consoling him after each loss, every time. you had fallen in love with the sport you once had no knowledge of just as hard as you had fallen for lewis. you knew how much of a toll each season took on him and you were always going to be there to pick him back up. his world became yours as you met his team and soon enough you were a familiar sight in the mercedes garage.

wasn't seven world championships enough for him?

you would never ask him to give up his career for you. and he would never ask that of you. but after years of waiting for the next step you couldn't help but wonder whether he still wanted that with you.

he was more than an hour late now. both of your schedules had been almost completely full for the past few months and you thought it would be nice to catch up over homemade dinner.

apparently he didn't think the same.

you hadn't bothered calling or texting. he always turned his phone off while at work anyways. as you finished off the last mouthful of wine the jingle of keys and the door unlocking brought you back out of your thoughts.

heavy footsteps trudged through the hallway.

"hey baby, i didn't think you would be up- what's all this?"

"dinner. i've been waiting for two hours now." you turned away from the counter to face him.

"shit. i am so sorry. i just got so caught up at work. we've been trying to improve the car to-"

"-to beat red bull. i know. i know."

"i promise i'll make it up to you. what about dinner next week? at that chinese restaurant you really like?" he walked towards you and went to wrap his arms around you before you pushed him away.

"stop, lewis. just stop. i can't keep doing this." you couldn't look him in the eyes.

a pin drop could be heard as lewis' blood ran cold.

"what?"

the change in atmosphere almost made you wish you had never said anything. almost.

"i can't keep waiting on you, lewis. i'm sorry."

"i said i would make it up to you." the look of pure confusion on his face would be amusing if it weren't for the fact that you were on the verge of tears.

"it's not just about dinner, lewis."

"then what is it about?"

"everything. god, we've been together for eight years and we're not even engaged and nowhere near starting a family. we have nothing to show for it. i knew i would have to wait and i was fine with that but i just can't anymore. this isn't what i imagined for us."

"so what? you're just going to leave? you know how i feel about having kids."

"and i get that, i do. but are you even planning on retiring in the near future? we're not getting any younger and i've been ready for a while now. i just don't think our ideas of our future are the same anymore."

"am i just meant to drop everything for you then? give it all up?"

"fuck, of course not, lewis. i would never ask you to do that. never. but sometimes it feels like you choose your career over me. and i know what it takes to be in formula 1 to win, i know you need to give it your full focus. i just, i need you to choose me for once. choose us."

"no, you don't know what it takes because if you did, you wouldn't be doing this to me right now. in the middle of the season."

you blinked. once. twice. you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"are you fucking kidding me, lewis? i'm ending our six year relationship and you're thinking of how it's going to effect your season?"

"yes! fuck, this is my whole life. it always has been and it always will be."

there it is. confirmation from the man himself. you stumbled on your words trying to convey your anger as your blood continuously boiled at his miserable attempt to fix his mess.

"have you ever even thought about how i've felt all these years? giving every excuse in the book to our families and friends about why we haven't taken the next step in our relationship and defending you when they said i was too good for you? you may get to avoid them by going to the races but i don't have that privilege."

your throat was dry at this point as you gasped for air and still, he was stood almost unbothered at the fact you were hopelessly clinging onto the last remaining threads of your relationship, willing him to fight back.

"so that's it? you're not going to stop me?"

tears pooled at your eyes as you realised this was really happening.

"well clearly you've thought this out pretty well."

you didn't know whether to laugh, cry or throw the empty bottle of wine at his head.

"you are fucking unbelievable, lewis. i thought this meant something to you but clearly not."

you stormed towards the door and opened it. you paused while silently hoping he would beg you to stay. hoping he would risk everything for you.

but it never came.

you wiped away your tears and tried to at least sound somewhat assertive despite your voice wavering.

"let me know when you're not at home and i'll come get my things."

you slammed the door shut with a resounding bang and walked away from the place and person you had called home for so long.

he sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. as he moved to get a beer out of the fridge his gaze fell on the calendar stuck to the front. there was a red heart around today's date with "anniversary!" written in your handwriting.

fuck.

note: yikes. i hope you aren't too sad because of me. any feedback is appreciated!! let me know what else you wanna see :)

[mysicklove]

thots on kitty!bakugou getting his nipples played with for the first time? feels so good it scares him, i bet. good enough to break down his sense of pride to beg for you to get your wrap? hehe

𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄

Pairing: Sub! Bottom! Cat Hybrid! Bakugou x Dom! Top! AFAB! Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Pegging, HEAVY nipple play, anal play, mention of collar, katsuki swears in like every sentence, nickname "kitty", hints of sadistic reader, pain/pleasure play ig.

A/N: I kinda changed it up just a tad anon im sorry lol. but i loved this idea so much i had to turn it into a fic. damn another fic that is not a kinktober one, ughhh

Your kitty has a very sensitive chest. Of course, Bakugou would never tell you this. You have a problem with bullying him a little bit, poking fun at him until he hisses at you, or teasing his body until he cries from frustration. Telling you about his nipples is a one-way ticket to mewling under you. He's not taking that ride.

So he hides it. Relatively well too; he tries his best not to press his ears back and whimper when you accidentally graze one of the buds. Instead, moving your hand away from his chest either up to his collar or beneath his pants.

You never suspected a thing. Just how Katsuki like it.

"Kitty, I'm home!" You chirp, opening the front door with a small content smile on your face. Katsuki peers up at you from the couch where he was napping, a frown plastered on his face.

"Why did you take so fucking long?" He complains, automatically getting up from the couch, and making his way over to you. He leans slightly leans down, and your hand reaches up to pet him. His ears twitch and he lets a gruff sigh at the feeling of your fingers.

"Sorry, Kats. There was a car accident on the way home. Traffic was bad. But anyways, how are you?"

He pulls away from you before he starts purring, his pride getting the better of him. "Fine. Dinner is getting cold."

He walks away toward the kitchen before you can respond, fixing you a plate while you sigh and slump against the dinner table chair. He sits down next to you, and you thank him. He lets out a grunt in response. The best you'll get out of him.

Dinner goes down relatively quietly. Katsuki isn't much of a talker, and you were tired from the day. You needed a little bit of energy before holding a conversation between you too.

"Want to do it tonight," He says finally breaking the comforting silence. 

You pause, looking up with a raised eyebrow. He doesn't make eye contact with you, but his cheeks are slightly pink. He tries to act all bold, but both of you know he always is so embarrassed to suggest these things. A prime subject to tease. "Do what?"

His ears fall back and he glares at you. "You know what."

You balance your head on your hand. "Hm?"

"Want to...Fuck." He sighs, staring at his bowl with bared teeth.

"You want me to fuck you?" You say, now grinning at him.

Katsuki dramatically stands up from the table, his face now blooming red. He leaves the bowl on the table, and his tail sways behind him. 

"Never mind. I'm going to bed."

You are up in an instant, chasing after him before he gets too far. Without really thinking much of it, you reach out from behind him and grab his chest, pulling his back against your front.

Katsuki doesn't have time to hide himself. He feels your hands grip accidentally grip his nipple, and he whimpers. Loud and shakily, while his eyes furrow to process the overbearing feeling.

The two of you freeze, both with wide eyes. He doesn't dare to move, afraid of what you'll say.

You loosen your grip slightly on his chest, and he lets out a breath of relief. But you don't dare to let him go, now intrigued. Slowly, your hands begin to run over his chest, taking notice of the way his breath hitches when you hit his nipples.

Your face curls with a feral grin, happy to find something new about your pet. "Oh, Kats. You didn't tell me you were so sensitive here."

His ears are pinned to his head, and he gulps. "Fuck you. 'm not"

You gently pinch his right nipple and his eyes widen, a broken whine falling from his lips. "Hmm? You sure, love?"

"Don't do that!" He pleads as he shrinks away from your fingers and into your chest, afraid you'll pinch him again.

You press a kiss to his neck in apology. Then you grab his hand and lead him into the bedroom. "Let's go fulfill your request, yeah kitty?"

He stares at the hand and then you, nervously. He knows you are going to abuse him, and he's not sure if he can take it, but on the other hand, he really wants to be fucked.

He's willing to take the risk. "Alright."

You know too much. Another thing to hold above his head. How is he ever going to escape your cruel hands if his body is so complaint with them?

"Fuck you! S-Stop! The teeth."

Your mouth has made his way to his chest in a matter of minutes of the two of you being in the bedroom. He is laying limp against the mattress, and your finger is moving in and out of his hole, prepping him for later.

But your current fixation was seeing how far he can go with his tits solely. You are still working on the intensity, and seeming to how Katsuki is dripping tears, it's probably too much for him. Your teeth barely even grazed him. "My fault. Didn't mean to, shhh don’t cry kitty."

He clenches his teeth together and the back of his arm covers his face, embarrassed about the tears You begin kitten licking the nipple and he sniffles, being okay with this sort of pressure.

Gently, you reassure yourself and your fingers continue their prodding. He has already taken two of them, and now you are scissoring the hole. He was taking them well, moaning gently under you with no complaint.

You gently begin to to suck, and the cat let's out a shaky moan. Not a whimper or a cry, a better sign. Your other hand travels to his other side and you gently travel circles around the pink nub. His back arches slightly and his mouth opens.

“There ya go. See we did it Kats. Doesn't hurt so bad now, hmm?”

He gulps, slightly gripping onto the sheets from the prodding sensation and your antics on his chest. It's overwhelming him, and he is struggling to bite back moans. “Dumbass. Just be gentle.” His voice doesn't hold a bite, instead it's higher in pitch and shaky.

Cute. But he always was, unitentionally of course. His pride is to big to try to act cute sole for you (even if you begged him multiple times).

He keens when you press your fingers onto his prostate, clenching his teeth with his ears pressed against the top of his head. You immediately distract him from the sensation by gently sucking his nipple.

His eyes fling open in an instant, and he choking out moans. "Not at the same time!"

You ignore his pleads, and switch to the other side. He grabs the back of your head and grips onto it desperately. The feeling makes you wince, but you don't stop your movements.

Eventually when it gets too much for the cat, he forces you away from his chest. You glance at him, slightly peeved, but your eyes widen at the sight.

Tears are streaming down his face, and he's trembling. His ears are pressed flat upon his head, and drool slightly drips from the corner of his lips. He is shaking his head at you, slowly but full of emotions. "No more. No more. 's too much. Just fuck me already!"

You peer down at his chest to see both of the nubs swollen and throbbing. You have abused them for too long, and it almost made you feel bad. Your poor kitty didn't deserve this, but alas, his wet teary eyes made it worth it. You couldn’t help but bully him if he looked so cute.

But, you take pity on him, and grab the strap, lubing it up, along with his entrance. He bites back a whimper at the coolness, but you force it out when you press a kiss to his thighs.

You pull your fingers out and he lets out an obviously displeased noise, trying to follow the digits. "So needy," You coo, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes, but blushing.

Then you line the toy up to his hole, and his ear twitch. He gulps and stares at the silicon, trying to contain his excitement. You begin to press it in, and he sighs, closing his eyes.

Slowly, you bottom out, and the cat lets out a breathy moan. A finger travels up to his chest again, and he jumps when you drag it over again. "Not—Not again."

You lean forward, now completely above him, waiting for him to adjust to the length. You circle the bud and kiss his cheek when he whines out. "Cant' help myself. You're so cute, Kats."

"F-Fuck you! Stop teasing me," He warbles, his eyes hazy and lips wet from his own saliva.

You begin your movements and he clings onto you. His mouth flies open, exposing his pointed canines that you are so fond of. "Such a cute kitty with such an adorable, sensitive body. I'm so spoiled."

He shakes his head, tears dripping down his cheeks. "Just shut up, and fuck me!"

You giggle into his neck, and pinch one of his nipples. His whole body jerks and whines, loud and pathetic. He trembles under you and glares at you, which doesn't look threatening at all considering they are wet from tears. "Be nice Katsuki."

He doesn't say anything, afraid you'll pinch him again. Instead, he nods his head and wraps his legs around your hips, silently signaling he wants more and quickly.

You abide his wishes and quicken your pace, and he mewls out, latching his mouth onto your shoulder. You grin at him and kiss the side of his head, mumbling words of encouragement.

His grinds himself on the strap, and his eyes roll at the feeling of his throbbing cock rubbing against your stomach. Mixed with earlier teasing, he felt like he was already close to cumming. He grips onto you and begins to beg for you to go faster.

But much to his dismay, you don't listen to him. Instead, you purr in his ear, "Katsuki~"

He clenches his teeth at the thrust, but whines at your words. Something bad was coming, he could tell. "Hmm?"

"Touch yourself."

He doesn't hesitate to reach down and begin stroking himself off, but you catch his wrist with the first stroke. He gulps and glances at you hesitantly.

You stare at him, smiling softly. Then, you lean forward and press your lips to his ears. "Your nipples, silly."

Your pace hasn't slowed and he can barely process your words, but the way you drag his fingers back to his chest lets him know exactly what you want.

He shakes his head furiously, clinging onto you. "Nooooooooo. Fuck, they hurt!"

You balance yourself on you forearm above him, and use your other to thumb over one of the buds. He moans, slightly arching his back. "They won't. See? Gotta be gentle, love."

He looks up at you with a pout and teary eyes, but nods hesitantly. His hands travel down to his chest, and he uses both hands to trace circles on them. The blonde whimpers out, shutting his eyes to try to manage the strange mix of pain and pleasure.

You finally quicken your pace, and Bakugou groans, not knowing what to with his body. He feels the sticky feeling of pre cum leaking on his abdomen, but his hands are too busy to wipe it away.

"m gonna cum."

"Are you asking for permission?"

He wasn't, and the both of you knew that. "Y-Yeah."

You smile at him, pressing a kiss to his tear stained lips. "As long as you touch your nipples through it all."

He wants to protest, already feeling overstimulated from both of the intense pleasures, but he also wants to cum. So, he nods with a sniffle. You rub you fingers over his twitching ears, and he leans into the warmth.

The pressure begins to build up, and hes now gently flicking his nipples. Hes withering from his own ministrations, and the ruthless pace of your strap isn't helping at all. Every breath is a moan, or a whine, and he shivering. "Fuck. Fuck. Im cumming. I can't!"

"Go ahead, kitty."

His whole body contracts, and his eyes screw shut. It tears viciously through him, and he's crying out. Its loud, high in pitched, but cute.

His hands clench up on his nipples, so you lean down and press your mouth to one. His shaky hands find the back of your hand and he curses, back now arching completely off the sheets.

Cum leaks onto his stomach, and some onto yours. His tail goes pin straight, and his ears are pinned to his head.

His high lasts longer than usual, about thirty seconds, and by the end of it his clinging onto you desperately while you coo at him.

When he comes down from his orgasm, he is heaving, trying to catch his breath again. You gently pull out during this time and he lets out a small gasp, but other than that doesn't complain. He falls limp against the bed, his body sweaty and flushed.

You take off the strap and begin to wipe him down with a washcloth, humming softly in your work. You are careful to leave his nipples alone, knowing hell prob freak out if you even graze them now. They are puffy and red, and most likely throbbing.

"You with me Katsuki?" You say, glancing hesitantly at him, almost feeling bad about his chest.

"Yeah, I'm here, you brat."

You laugh gently, glad your cat is back to his usual antics. "Ironic," You tease, grinning at him.

He doesn't find it funny. "Hey fuck you. I listened well today! Even after you tried torturing me." The last part comes out as a mumble, pouting into his pillow.

Your eyes whole a sadistic glaze to them, and he gulps, wondering what you are going to say next. "If you think thats torture, oh kitty, what do you think we buy you some nipple clamps?"

He throws a pillow at you and hisses before you could finish your next thought.

[bruhstories]

Bet IV

p.1 here & p2. here & p.3 here & p.5 here & p.6 here

mandatory mdni because things will start to get heated up in the following chapters.

summary: you're starting to feel things for the man who hired you to take care of his cat. but he's only being nice. that's it and nothing more. pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, domestic violence (reader gets slapped by her uncle), veeeery slow burn, reader's dad is dead w/c: 2.1k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! please remember that if you asked to be tagged but i can't find your age on your blog, you will NOT be tagged. there will be smut and people dying lol.

"Where were you last night?"

You sighed at your uncle's question, sick and tired of explaining the same thing over and over again. He woke up earlier than he should have, especially for a man who worked night shifts at a warehouse. He did it on purpose, just to have more reasons to pick on you, and you knew that all too well. You lived through that hell for the past ten years.

"I told you, I was cat sitting." 

"Cat sitting." He repeated with derision in his voice. "You need to get a real job."

"I have two real jobs." You reminded him, and it took all your willpower not to raise your voice at him.

"Where's the money, then? Huh?" Your uncle grabbed you by the wrist, twisting it backwards.

"I'm getting paid today!"

"How much?" 

"660,326!" You cried out as his fingernails dug deeper into your skin.

"I better see that money on my nightstand by tomorrow morning." He let go of your wrist. "Keep the change."

How generous, you thought, rubbing the crescent-shaped dents in your skin. At least he didn't hit you, but your small victory crumbled when he turned on his heels, smacking you with the plastic fly swatter in his hand. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

You didn't cry, not in front of him. Never in front of him. 

But when you stepped through the doors of Mr. Hwang's penthouse, the dam broke, and tears streamed down your cheeks. They burned when they touched the cracked, swollen skin, courtesy of your uncle, but you still smiled at the sight of Eunjoo.

Instead of waiting next to the water bowl, like she had done before, the cat jumped on the countertop, her paw gently touching your wrist, where the imprinted dents of his fingernails were still visible. You didn't know why, but Eunjoo's gesture made you cry harder, heavy tears falling onto her plate. 

"Good kitty." You sobbed, daring to pet her, and she allowed it, nuzzling your hand for the first time since you met her.

Without wasting a single moment, you took out your phone to take a selfie of you and Eunjoo, and sent it to In-ho, with the caption 'Making progress!' You thought he might be happy to see her slowly lower her guard and get attached to you.

Who hurt you?

Stupid. How could you be so stupid to send a selfie when your cheek was grazed and puffy? Of course Mr. Hwang would ask about it, he was a nice man, one whose kindness you didn’t think you deserved.

I accidentally walked into a lamppost! Silly, right?

Hoping that the lie would be convincing enough, you carried on with your tasks after eating with Eunjoo, and to your surprise, it worked. It fooled him, but you weren’t proud of yourself in the slightest. 

You need to be more careful next time. If anything happened to you, who would take care of Eunjoo until I return?

It shouldn't have hurt reading his reply, and yet your heart ached. What did you expect? You were an employee, he obviously wanted his cat to be safe, not you. And how could someone like him even care about someone you? You came from different worlds that could never intertwine.

I will.

No thank you, no sad face — you were bitter, even though, rationally, you had no reason to be. Besides, you lied to him in the first place. Maybe if you told him the truth, he would have sent a different reply. It didn't matter. In less than five days he would come back, pay you and never speak to you again. Just like all rich people did.

You cleaned the bathrooms that morning, scrubbing the bath tubs, the toilets, the sinks and the floors until your fingertips stung and your head pounded from the bleach fumes. The vibration of your phone startled you, and you wiped your hands to check the notification.

Have I upset you?

Okay, maybe he did care. Or maybe he was just very observant and noticed your monotonous reply.

Not at all, I just have a lot on my mind. I'm sorry that you worried about me, or that I seemed upset! You're right, I need to be more careful next time.

Please don't take this the wrong way, miss, but I've never met anyone who apologised for making me worry about them. You're quite special.

You did a double take when you read Mr. Hwang's reply, and a wave of remorse crushed your heart. The man was too nice for you to lie to him, but you didn't want him involved in your family affairs, either. There was a strong internal conflict within you, a battle between honesty and dishonesty, but for the time being, dishonesty won, no matter how disgraceful it was.

Choosing not to reply, as time was ticking and the Abduls would be waiting for you soon, you swiftly finished tidying up the bathrooms and put away all the cleaning products so Eunjoo couldn't get to them. With the automatic feeder full, fresh water in the bowl and litter boxes clean, you left.

In all fairness, you didn't know what to reply to his text. No one called you special before, except for that one guy you dated who only wanted to sleep with you, and unfortunately succeeded. It wasn't your proudest moment, but you moved on since then. You stared at the text, typing a reply, then deleting it, then typing again, and you did that for the duration of the entire bus ride back to Guryong Village. By the time you knocked on Ali's door, you still hadn't come up with a response.

What could you even say? Thank you? Likewise? I'm sorry I lied to you, my uncle slapped me with the fly swatter? No. In telling the truth, Mr. Hwang would pity you, perhaps even offer you more money, or food, or clothes, and you didn't want to be pitied. You wanted your hard work to be recognised, not to use your social status or depressing background as an excuse.

Mrs. Abdul couldn't feed you that day, and that was fine. They needed to prioritise themselves, since they didn't live any better than you. Luckily, you saved enough money to buy a kimbap roll for lunch and a bag of rice crackers for dinner and breakfast. Resourcefulness was, perhaps, your strongest point and the reason you survived for so long.

The theme park was packed with tourists and locals, gathering to watch the parade, and you took the time to entertain children and take pictures with them, always on your feet, always working. Back in the dressing room, you took the comically large mascot head off, sweat dripping down your face and neck. Summers were worse — there were body parts you didn't think could sweat.

"Excuse me, Y/N?"

You looked up from your seat to a man around your age, a coworker named Donghyun. He had worked there for a few months or so, but you barely spoke.

"Yes?" You smiled, resting your elbows on the mascot head in your lap.

"We're getting paid today, and a few of us are going for drinks after work. I was wondering if you would like to come." Donghyun avoided looking into your eyes, nervously pinching the soft fur of his own mascot.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have another job I need to get to. Maybe another time."

"Yeah, another time." He nodded. "Hey, could I get your number?"

"Why would you want my number?" You laughed, immediately pursing your lips when Donghyun frowned. "Sorry, yeah, of course I'll give you my number!"

You were such a people pleaser, it was ridiculous, but he seemed to feel better after saving your number in his phone. And there was no harm in making new friends.

"I'll text you later." Donghyun nodded with a smile and left.

What a strange interaction, you thought. It wasn't unusual for men to like you — you were pretty, smart, funny — but you just weren't interested in any of them. In fact, it was their age and maturity that didn't appeal to you. They acted like prepubescent pricks, trying to impress anything with a vagina and a pretty face by being obnoxious and loud and downright irritating.

Older men were different. They had manners, they were respectful and caring. They knew how to dress, knew how to speak to women, kind of like Mr. Hwang.

Oh. 

God, you needed to forcibly remove that thought from your mind before it spiraled into something worse. In-ho probably wanted nothing to do with you — no, he definitely didn’t want anything to do with you. He was just a nice gentleman who happened to not be married. Maybe he had a girlfriend that didn't live with him. Or maybe he worked so much he couldn't afford a relationship. 

Maybe he murdered people.

You laughed at that ridiculous idea — no one in their right mind would do that, especially not Mr. Hwang. He had a cat, for God's sake. Murderers usually killed animals, surely he was just a normal man with a lot on his mind, a workaholic, or a hermit.

Walking into your boss' office, you received your pay and counted the money — 662,326. You got more than you should've, completely forgetting about the pay rise. Your uncle didn't need to know about that, and you took the extra 2,326 and hid it in a small pocket inside your backpack, along with other money you saved. Unbeknownst to him, you secretly opened a savings account in the hopes that one day you would be able to leave and rent your own place, but you only had 1,094,463.60 won, which was barely enough to cover the deposit.

One day. One day you would leave all that abuse behind and have a fresh start. But today was not that day. 

Back in Gangnam-gu, you entered the penthouse earlier than normal and dropped your bag on the floor next to your worn and torn boots. You were hoping they would last through winter because you really couldn't afford a new pair. Eunjoo ran to greet you for the first time, and your heart was filled with joy at the sight of the cat rubbing against your leg. She was growing on you, and you soon realised how much you'd miss her when Mr. Hwang returned. Perhaps he'd let you visit her. 

You turned the TV on and played some songs by ABBA, the sadness of the morning gone, replaced only by joy and optimism. Things would turn out well, you just knew it. You grabbed In-ho's black clothes and placed them in the washing machine, all the while dancing to the beat of Money, Money, Money. It was a song you related to, but you didn't want to find a wealthy man. You just wanted to have enough money to survive without your uncle.

"It's a rich man's world." You sang to Eunjoo, who wiggled her butt, playfully attacking your feet. 

"All the things I could do if I had a little money, kitty. I would get my own apartment, I would donate to orphanages and charities. Oh, don't look at me like that." You frowned when Eunjoo stared at you judgmentally. "I would! There are people out there who need help. But you know what I would get for me? A hotteok! Ah, I would kill for that cinnamony goodness."

You placed the food on the floor and opened the pack of rice crackers. 

"My dad got me a hotteok on my seventh birthday. It was the best birthday ever and- oh my God, I'm talking to a cat." Laughing at the sudden realisation, you shook your head in disbelief. "Well, you're probably my only friend anyway. You don't judge me. You don't care if I'm rich or poor. You just listen and eat. Oh!"

Good evening, Mr. Hwang! Could I ask what your favourite dish is?

You decided that would be your gift. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill, but you were confident in yourself. And who didn't want to come back to a hot home-made meal? Maybe he liked jajangmyeon, or jjigae, or something sweet, like chapssaltteok. The possibilities were endless.

Beef Wellington. Why?

Your heart sunk to your stomach. Beef fucking Wellington? How on Earth could you even afford all the ingredients? The tenderloin itself was probably over 65,000 won. But you were going to do it for him, regardless of what it cost. You felt that Mr. Hwang deserved it. 

I was hoping to cook it for you when you returned. I'll admit, I didn't think it would be such a... fancy dish, but I'm sure I can manage. 

Have you tried it before?

I'm afraid not. Is it good?

Exquisite. You'll have to stay and try it when I return, yes?

Chewing on your bottom lip, your heart skipped a beat at his request. You knew he was just being nice, but you couldn't stop the sudden burning desire to just obey. 

Yeah, I'll stay. 

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn  @hobiesbrownsgf  @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol  @mariiestfu  @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm @nikos-a-clown @cchewhaz @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @red22wolf @nellabear @unabletonotlovesatoru @happiness2112 @waterjewelsspite @luna-looniesnlog @plan3t-plut0 @full-sunnies @houta-habtet-houta @alexisabirdie @riri53 @bluehourss

[callsign-rogueone]

resson (garrick's version)

Garrick Tavis x reader a Garrick and Angel chapter! I need to re-number these at some point, but this happens between 1 and 2 — some of the events at Resson, and them going back to Aretia. written in Garrick’s pov, since Angel isn’t exactly conscious at the moment... words: 2.9k 🏷️: fourth wing spoilers, major character death, canon injury, allusions to hypothermia, writing as Garrick is hard but I tried, poor boy isn’t sure she’s gonna survive this (we know she does, since I wrote this out of order, but still), he takes good care of his girl, Sweetheart makes an appearance along with Darling Spark and Love, somewhat proofread but not really. I’m sorry this took me so long, but here it is. better late than never?

There’s a red dragon lying on the ground, wounded. It’s either Cosa or Deigh, but I can’t tell from this far out. Deigh, I realize when I’m close enough to see his horns, and he isn’t moving. If he’s dead, then Liam only has a few minutes left.

I make the jump too quickly, scrambling to get my feet underneath me, but I’m too late. Liam’s gone. His girlfriend is sobbing into his shoulder, Bodhi attempting to soothe her through his own tears. He has one arm held to his chest, the other rubbing her back gently. 

But there’s a second body slumped against Deigh’s side, and my heart nearly stops when I realize who it is. 

“Angel,” I breathe, kneeling down beside her, brushing my hands over her cheeks. She’s cold to the touch even in the July heat, her head lolled down onto her chest and her body completely limp, but she’s still breathing, thank the gods. I couldn’t bear to lose both her and Liam on the same day. It would destroy me. 

A quick inspection and confirmation from Tab tell me that she’s not wounded — a few scratches here and there, and some tender points that will be bruised tomorrow, but nothing major.

“She tried,” Bodhi tells me quietly. “There was nothing she could do, but she tried anyway, and…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, knowing that I can see it as well as he can.

I’ve seen her drained before, completely exhausted after a long day mending in the infirmary, unsteady on her feet and ready to flop facedown onto my bed and sleep it off, but this is several steps past that. It’s clear that she’d used absolutely everything she had in trying to keep Liam and Deigh alive, and I don’t know how long it will take her to recover. 

If she does recover, I think for a single second before crumpling the thought up like a piece of parchment and shoving it deep, deep down. She’s going to live. She’s going to recover. She has to. There is no way that the two of us could ever be separated like that. 

I have to do something, but what? Is sleeping it off followed by a giant bowl of pasta going to be enough this time, or does she need to see a healer? Could the healers even fix this? Is there a cure for burnout other than rest?

“The Lieutenant Colonel would know. He’s a mender as well.” 

Brennan would know. Him or Colonel Colbersy would be the best bets — but the idea of taking her back to that hellhole school right now is enough to light my blood on fire. Graduation is in less than a week, and I know they aren’t going to give her any time to recover before they transfer her across the continent to gods-know-where and expect her to start working.

I hook an arm under her knees, another behind her back, lifting her up from the dirt and gathering her into my lap. She’s too drained to speak, to open her eyes, but I feel a little flare of recognition from her as she leans into my chest — she knows it’s me. She’s still in there. 

I tuck her head into my shoulder, stroking a hand over her disheveled braids, because that’s all I can do right now.

Our little sister has silently slotted herself between me and Bodhi. She leans her head against my shoulder, sniffling quietly. She looks unharmed, but there’s dried blood coating her nose and upper lip, and her cuticles are shredded; she’s been peeling them since we left the school, as a nervous habit. Something’s bothering her, but I haven’t had time to ask what — though I have a suspicion that it has something to do with that little joker in Violet’s squad.

And now this. Liam had become her best friend, the first person her age that she was truly comfortable with, and now… I put my other arm around her, squeezing gently. She’s trembling, crying as quietly as possible — even in a situation like this, she doesn’t want to make a sound.

“I’m so sorry, kid,” I say softly, as if that will make it hurt any less.

She leans into me a little further. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” I promise her, “She’s gonna be fine in a day or two. She just needs rest — you know how it is.”

I pray to every higher power that exists that I’m right — that Angel will be fine, that our sister won’t lose yet another loved one. She’s finally coming out of her shell, starting to let people in, but I’m afraid that losing Liam might send her right back to square one: the girl I’d met six years ago, who was too scared to speak. I didn’t hear her voice for a week and a half — only timid nods or shakes of the head for yes or no questions.

My eyes widen as I see Xaden approach, a limp-looking Violet in his arms. She’s wheezing, black blood trickling from a wound in her side.

“It has to be poison,” Imogen reasons, sounding more torn up about this than I thought she’d ever be. “Look at it! We have to get her back to Basgiath. Nolon might be able to help.”

“That’s a twelve-hour flight.” Xaden’s voice rises. “And I’m pretty sure her arm is broken.”

Is she going to make it that long?

“There’s somewhere closer,” he says quietly.

“You can’t be serious,” Ciaran interrupts.

“You’ll put everything at risk,” I warn.

Tairn roars in dissent.

“I wouldn’t say that again,” Imogen mutters, “or he’ll probably eat you. And don’t forget, if she dies, there’s a damn good chance Xaden does, too.”

“I’m not saying he shouldn’t, just reminding him what the stakes are.”

“I don’t give a fuck what happens to me!” Xaden yells. “We’re going, and that’s an order.”

Bodhi agrees without protest. “No need for orders, man. We’ll save her.” 

“You’re sure about this?” Imogen asks.

“Stop fucking asking him that,” I snap without thinking. “He made his decision. Support him or get the fuck out, Imogen.”

“And it’s a bad one.”

Bodhi turns his head to glare at him. “When you have a hundred and seven scars on your back, then you get to make the fucking decisions, Ciaran.”

Rocks crunch under a pair of boots as another of our friends approaches. She looks utterly defeated — her face, neck, and hair are splattered with wyvern blood, and the makeup she’d so carefully applied for the Reunification Day party is running in dark trails down her cheeks, her eyes swollen and red from crying. She’s unusually quiet as she speaks. “X is right. We need to lie low for a few days — get our wounded help, and…”

And bury Liam. Her little brother. 

A wave of guilt floods through me. I had been too focused on Angel to fully process the fact that Liam, Xaden’s little brother, who may as well be mine too, is gone forever. We have to bury him tomorrow. I’ll never hear him laugh again, never receive another one of his little wood carvings… Oh, fuck. Sloane. She’d been counting down until her conscription day, when she could see him again, but now she never will. 

“It’s settled, then,” another soft voice says — Bodhi’s wife. “We’re going home.”

Nobody dares to disagree with her.

I give our sister one last gentle squeeze before I rise from the ground, Angel in my arms, and carry her the hundred yards to the rest of the riot, who have been keeping watch over us.

Tab lowers his head, mournful and dejected. He must regret not cutting her off, blocking her out from his magic before she overdid it. She’d never forgive him if he had interfered with her efforts to save Liam, but if he had, she might still be lucid. 

It’s absolutely terrifying seeing her like this. 

Chradh nods in understanding before I can ask, lowering himself flat to the ground so I can climb up while still holding her. I know it’s a major no-no for a dragon to bear anyone but their rider, but all of ours understand the gravity of the situation — a few of us aren’t in condition to fly, and will need to double up with someone who is.

She’s still freezing cold, and I know that the altitude and wind on our flight home won’t help. I sit her up in front of me, removing my flight jacket one sleeve at a time. 

It’s like dressing a doll — she’s completely pliant in my arms, and I have to keep moving her to get the jacket on, guiding her hands through the sleeves and buttoning it closed on top of her own. I pull her goggles up so the wind won’t hurt her eyes, and turn her head to tuck her face into my neck. 

Chradh wraps an invisible band of power around us to help keep her in place. 

“Just hang on for me, Angel,” I murmur, my lips brushing her hairline. “We’re taking you home.”

———————————————

Every step up the staircase sends a wave of pain up my left leg. I fucked up my knee in my running landing, too panicked to think straight once I realized that one of the dragons was wounded so severely.

I can worry about myself later. Right now I need to get her in bed, and prepare her for Brennan’s assessment.

My magic works to open the doors here, too, so I don’t have to worry about dropping her while I get us inside. I sit in my desk chair and prop her up in my lap, the wood creaking under our combined weight. 

I get her out of my flight jacket, then hers, and assess the state of her base layers. I decide to get her out of her leathers, at least — those are terrible to sleep in, and she’s always been picky about “outside clothes” on the bed. 

She was cold to the touch even with the extra layers, but without them I realize exactly how icy her skin is. I leave her with shorts and a tank top, but I pull back the bed covers with one hand and lay her down, piling her with blankets to make up for the loss. As soon as I drape them over her body, I’m rewarded with a small sign of life — she burrows deeper into the covers, seeking warmth.

Maybe warming her back up will be enough to get her lucid again, like this is some kind of hypothermia. But how did that happen? It’s July, the warmest part of the year across the whole continent.

I drag my desk chair over to the edge of the bed, taking a seat. It’ll be a while yet before Brennan can check on her — it’s going to take a small miracle for him to get the poison out of Violet’s system. 

She’s turned her head away from me, so I occupy myself with fixing her braids. They’re undone in places, big strands pulled out by the wind. I untie the leather band at the bottom, setting it on the nightstand and gently undoing the plaits. 

I’ve been practicing, but I’m not skilled enough to do the style she usually wears. I settle for detangling as best I can with just my fingers, and gathering it all into a low ponytail. It’s a small comfort to see her looking less disheveled. This way I can almost pretend that there’s nothing wrong, that she’s just taking a nap in my bed on a winter afternoon, piled up with blankets. 

“Can you ask Tab to keep an eye on her while I shower?”

“He won’t be taking his eye off of her anytime soon.”

If Tab can still feel her, that’s a good sign, I guess. I’ll take anything normal as a good sign right now. I cast one last long glance at her before I slip into the bathroom, keeping the door open just in case.

I look like shit after nearly two full days of flight and combat, but a shower and some real sleep should help. The water here is warmer than at Basgiath — though that’s a very low bar — and the pressure isn’t terrible. It’s almost nice. It would be a welcome reprieve, if I wasn’t so worried about her and Violet and all of our friends. I’m pretty sure Bodhi broke an arm back there, and our sister looked so shaken… she’d disappeared as soon as we got home. I need to check on her in the morning.

I haven’t heard anything from the bedroom, which is either a good sign or a bad one, but when I peek my head out, I can see the pile of blankets still rising and falling with her slow breaths. I dry off as quickly as I can and begin the search for clean clothes.

My old pajama pants are loose enough to accommodate the extra inches I’ve put on my thighs in three years as a dragon rider, but I can’t fit my arms through the sleeves of the first shirt I find. I make a quick modification with one of my smaller knives before tugging it over my head and settling back down beside her.

There’s a soft knock on the door.

Brennan looks absolutely exhausted, but he waves a hand at me in dismissal as I rise from the creaking desk chair and offer it to him. Stubborn fucking Sorrengails. 

He examines her for a minute, his eyebrows drawn together the way I’ve seen them when he’s looking over a battle map as he checks her pulse. Her breaths become even slower as he wraps his hand around her wrist, her body relaxing. 

“How long has she been like this?”

“Since we left Resson,” I answer. “She didn’t wake up on the flight.”

He blows out a breath. “I can fix the smaller stuff, but I don’t know what made her this way. I’ve seen burnout before, but this isn’t it.” He pauses, and his voice is strained as he continues. “It’s like she siphoned half her life away to try to save him.”

I can’t help but wince, knowing how his friend had done just that in the battle of Aretia five years ago — only Naolin had given up not just half his life, but the whole of it. And him being reminded of that on the day that he’d finally reunited with his little sister, who is currently residing on Malek’s doormat… 

I break the silence after a moment. “She’s not a siphoner, though. She’s a mender, like you.”

“That explains it, I guess. The loss of Deigh’s power is what ended Liam’s life, but we can’t mend magic. There’s nothing she could have done, but she kept trying anyway, and it was too much for her.”

Again, he sounds pained. 

I tread carefully with my next question. “Have you seen it happen before? A rider lose their dragon?”

“Yes. I tried as hard as I could to save her, but it was futile. I felt utterly useless.”

“How long did it take you to recover?”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t need to. I was fine, just a little shaken.”

I exhale. “She’s always had issues with her signet. It’s easy for her to overwork herself, but I’ve never seen it this bad.”

He lets go of her wrist, setting her arm down gently, and I hear a soft sound of discomfort leave her lips. Why is she in pain? He’d just mended all of her visible injuries away, and I didn’t see anything under her clothes when I’d gotten her into bed. Maybe it’s the sudden cold — being mended always feels warm, and she’s still freezing.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” I say softly. “Thank you.”

He nods, looking ready to head up a flight to his own room and collapse.

The sun has set, the warm dusk we’d landed in now replaced with dark night, and I’m absolutely exhausted. I lift up a few of the half dozen blankets, slotting myself in next to her. My entire body relaxes as soon as I’m horizontal on a real mattress, the pressure taken off of my legs. 

She curls into me with a soft sigh, and it takes an effort not to flinch at how cold she still is even through the layers of blankets, but I wrap my arms around her, trying to warm her up. “Angel?” I ask softly.

No response — not even a hum. How long is she going to be like this?

“I love you,” I say quietly, even though it’s doubtful she can hear me. “Get some rest, okay? You need to recover. You have to recover. I need you. We all need you.”

Another sleepy sigh as she shifts over a little, resting her head over my heart like she always does. It’s probably just muscle memory from sleeping like this every night for years, but part of me wonders if it’s her telling me that she loves me too, and that she’ll be okay.

“Sleep,” Chradh encourages. “We’ll watch her.”

I don’t respond, my eyes already closing. Shitty circumstances aside, it’s nice to be home again, curled up with her in my — our — own bed, away from the demands of that infernal school. 

We can sleep as late as we want tomorrow morning.

[etheries1015]

The Demon brothers w/ MC who has arachnophobia

Arachnophobia: the irrational and extreme fear of spiders

TW: Arachnophobia, panic attacks, vomit

Overview: The brothers decide to make a bet on who can find your fear, and when one hits home and they don’t get the reaction they were truly hoping for, they comfort you in your time of panic. 

Featuring: Lucifer, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Mammon, Satan

WARNING: I wrote this almost two years ago and it’s been just sitting inside of my drafts wasting away until I could find the motivation to write for the last couple of brothers. I did not find that motivation lol. So this has not been proofread, and I decided to just throw it into the pit of fire and share it anyway! Hope you like it nonetheless, but it definitely is not the best of my works. Please keep this in mind while reading.

Otherwise, take a look at my master list to see other works I do! 

Authors note: Based my reaction to real things I personally feel regarding arachnophobia . I can't even look at pictures of them without feeling sick to my stomach, so the reaction is truly how I would feel in this situation... Hope I'm not the only one with this extreme fear, and hopefully its a little relatable.

Scenario:

There weren't many things the MC is afraid of, so it seems.

"So...MC, tell me," Solomon started, "If being surrounded by all of these demons and magic doesn't shake you up, what DOES scare you?" He smiled gently, that mysterious smile. Around the dinner table were all of the brothers during a community dinner at the House of Lamentation, staring intently at MC who only shrunk down into their seats. Chuckling nervously, MC rolled their eyes in slight annoyance.

"That...is something I'm not going to share with you," a cheerful smile planted upon their lips.

That was the very sentence that brought us to our...current situation.

A week passed, the brothers tried everything from ghost stories to walks in the woods late at night. Pretty tame, don't you think? They had a list of different possible fears a normal human may have, since the typical situations the MC found themselves in the devildom seem to not leave a dent in their confidence or bravery. One night, during meal preparation, came their next plan.

"Spiders? Really, Mammon? Levi?" Asmodeus sassily crossed his arms shaking his head in disapproval, leaning against the countertop.

"Hey, trust me. I read this thing -"

"You, Reading?" Satan interrupted Mammon, causing the brothers to snicker.

"Shut it!" Mammon growled, taking a small plastic spider and setting it in the bowl of food meant for MC, "I'm sure ima win this one," he proudly proclaimed, "I looked up a buncha different human fears and this seemed to be a popular one."

"You guys are such kids..." Belphie yawned, trudging to the dining room, "Let’s go eat, Beel."

The red-headed twin looked back at the bowl with a worried expression before turning back on his heel to follow his brother. Each of them entered the dining room where MC sat waiting, along with the group from purgatory hall. A smile was planted on their lips as they joked with the angels and fellow human, thanking Mammon as he set their food in front of them.

"Ah..." MC looked up at Mammon with a confused look, "Thank...you? I could have dished up myself-"

Mammon cut them off saying something rushed and embarrassed along the lines of "I can be nice when I want to, don't get the wrong idea, though!" Before taking his own seat.

The brothers stared in anticipation, watching MC lead the spoon up to their lips

Looking back down at the bowl, MC froze in shock for a moment.

That was when they saw it.

Your reaction

With a shaking hand, you drop the spoon and covered your mouth with your hand, ready to throw up. You quickly pushed the chair back causing it to fall, running to the nearest garbage to throw up what you had eaten. At this point, you were now a shaking, sobbing mess. Your heart was beating so fast, the reveal of the spider in your meal replaying in your head. You couldn't even bring yourself to close your eyes to try and collect yourself, all you could see was that...wretched creature every time you saw darkness.

Their reaction:

Lucifer:

He sensed the immense fear from you immediately and quickly took the initiative to remove the bowl from your grasp.

Though he had taken away the source, he could feel the buildup of fear continue.

He stared in shock for a moment, even though he took away the bowl, you still had reacted the way you did.

After getting over the moment of shock from your state, he had rushed to your side.

He had never seen you so shaken up, he wasn't sure if he should even touch you in fear of making it somehow worse.

Excused himself and you from the table to take you to the kitchen to breath, hugging you when he knew it was okay to do so. (We love consent here)

He thought it was silly, fearing something so small when you don't even struggle with CERBERUS, a literal giant demon dog.

"I don't fully understand the reasoning, but..." He cupped your cheeks with his long, slender fingers gently , looking you intently in the eyes, "I will not allow some little bug take away your smile from us. Or me."

Has the house deep cleaned for any cobwebs or reminders of spiders, he knows how it feels to be so afraid of something that any reminder of said fear is painful, no matter how little or big that fear may be.

Hung Mammon up for the entire idea

This man would protect you from anything, even from a small insect that he has no understanding the fear behind it.

Mammon:

Poor puppy had no idea what to do other than panic, color draining from his face the second he saw your shaking hand and the yelp of fear escape your lips.

Doesn't apologize at first with words, but with actions.

Runs to your side while you are doubled over in fear over the garbage can, wanted to pat your back but instead he just awkwardly waits for you to look at him once you're done throwing up.

Oh boy. He looks like a kicked puppy the second he saw the tears streaming down your face, shaking like crazy.

Wasn't sure what to say, so he just pulled you into his arms.

"I'm ....sorry," he mumbled, awkwardly patting your back in attempt to comfort you.

Will tease you after though, and brag that he won for finding out your fear.

Never did it again, and is secretly on the look out for any spiders around you or the house so he can rid of it before you see it.

He's weak for your tears <3

Leviathan:

He doesn't even know what to do, when you start running to the garbage can he only stares in surprise.

Honestly , he probably isn't the type to actively comfort you right away, he's trying to think of what he could do to help later on instead.

Walks up to you while you're calming down, before asking if you are okay 

Genuinely doesn't understand the fear behind such a small creature, there are millions of other things much scarier in the games you play together.

He would give behind the scenes comfort, making sure his brothers don't bring anything regarding spiders up, and will make sure to proof watch/read manga, anime, and games to make sure it doesn't have anything to trigger your arachnophobia

"I know you think I'm just a weird gross otaku but... I care about these things too! I'll make sure you can enjoy all of our anime and gameplay nights without worrying about something like that!"

Cuddles and anime night with a comfort anime of your choice.

Asmodeus:

He definitely doesn't understand the reasoning behind such a fear, but he too, is willing to ignore that fact when it comes to you.

He doesn't LIKE them because they are unsightly, but for sure isn't AFRAID of them, and thought at first you were the same.

That was...until he saw the genuine fear in your eyes after he ran after you and patted your back as you vomited.

He doesn't do anything directly to help you avoid spiders, but will do anything to comfort you. Head rubs, movie nights in his room, he is more of a .... "Distract yourself from your problems and fears instead of face them" kind of demon.

"Look at me , into my eyes. Forget those awful little things," he gently grabs your hand and sets his forehead against yours, "they can't hurt you, darling. It'll be okay. If you're still scared, shall we sleep together tonight?" He giggles.

He loves you and tries very hard to make you feel better, since your being is (almost) more important than his own. But he isn't always the best at this, since loving others more than him is a bit of a new concept.

He's trying for you xoxo

Satan:

He never thought he would ever see you break with something like this

But understands well enough, he had extended knowledge on different human fears, all the better for his class on manipulating humans...

The calm one, cleaning up the mess while the others panic to be by your side.

Angrily lectures all of the brothers on arachnophobia and the side effects and reactions you may have if this happened again.

Whispering sweet words of comfort as you sob and shake in his arms. Gently rubbing your back while glaring at the brothers. While they could sense your fear, Satan's anger was far greater.

Does blame himself a little bit, since he was aware of the plan but didn't particularly do anything to actively stop it. But makes up for it xoxo

"I know a good cat café near by, if you're up for it, I'll buy you whatever you want as an apology." He kissed your forehead gently.

Before suggesting any books to read, he proof reads them for any sign of spiders, pictures or in depth descriptions could be just as traumatizing! 

Since his room is always a constant mess of books, it’s bound to become dusty. Now, before you enter his room, he makes sure that even if his books are not cleaned up, that the cobwebs and dust is taken care of. 

[yuyu1024]

Watermelon

Pairings: Wooyoung x Y/N

Genre/tags: friends to...?

Warning: fluff, smut 🔞, cursing, pet names (babes, baby, love, honey, noona etc), protected/unprotected sex (be safe everyone)

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 2.7k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: something from drafts ✨️

Masterlist

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"Since when did you start wearing make up?" Wooyoung asks as he finds you at Jongho's kitchen, cutting watermelons for the boys.

You pause mid cut and look back at him, leaning on the doorway whilst holding a can of beer in hand. "I'm not in the mood today." You snarl, rolling your eyes. "I'm busy."

He snorts a chuckle. You can hear him walk. But instead of walking away, he appoaches you. "Red is your color..." he says, tilting his head to the side to see your face.

You sigh. "What do you want?" You sound irritated.

He puts his beer on the counter top and leaned his loweback on the edge. "You stopped responding to me..." he crosses his arm around his torso. "I thought we are building something special between us..."

"I don't know what you're talking about..." you utter even though YOU DO know what he meant.

Since the beginning of summer, you and Wooyoung have been... close. You text and call each other. The normal. Like what usually friends do.

However, you and him are not like this before. He is a friend of your friend, Jongho. And so he became friends with you and your circle too. But still... you two are not there yet.

But then lately, he have been making efforts with you. And you thought it was cool and nice since you want to be close with him too coz he is friendly. But little did you know, he likes to be a little TOO friendly. You are blinded by his sweet words that you almost missed it.

And when you noticed that he's after you, not just to be friends. You suddenly got timid with him. You limit your contact with him.

Of course you are doing this not to be mean and unfriend him. It's just a precaution. You know yourself. If you continued it, this something between you too is danger. And you're not sure you can handle just being one of his girls.

"Are you sure?" His voice sounds so evil and yet so alluring.

You even felt him move closer to you that his skin from his arm touches your exposed arm as well. You pray that your body does not react to expose you. But thats not even what you should be worried about. Coz Wooyoung could tell. Weirdly enough, He knows you a lot more than you think.

"Stop..." you look at him.

"Stop what?" He arches a brow.

"That!" You sound irritated. "I'm not in the mood okay? I can't play with your games and shit."

You finally finished cutting the watermelons. You throw the knife and cutting board in the sink.

"Here..." you push the bowl of watermelon to Wooyoung. "Give it to the guys..."

He looks at you confused and dumbfounded but at the same time amused. "Okay." He softly answer. "Talk to you later then." He smiles and leaves you in the kitchen

***

The whole house is loud. The boys are playing games and having bets who would win. And of course, the loser would be the one assigned in washing all the dishes. Exlcuding you and Wooyoung as you two did the cooking and the prep earlier with Seonghwa.

"I win!" Yunho yells overjoyed.

"Aah! I'm safe!" Hongjoong, Yeosang and San said at the same time.

That is leaving Yeosang and Jongho in dishwashing duties.

"But it's my house!" Jongho tries to appeal

"That's more reason for you to be nice to your guests." Seonghwa answers. "Just go and clean..." he pats both males shoulder. "Go on..."

"This is unfair." Jongho pouted

"What's unfair is me and Y/N lost the ladder game for the room. Now we have no choice but to sleep in the scary ass basement room...on that one big ass mattress." Wooyoung says before chugging his beer

(Scary basement because its Jongho's old brother's office that they turned into a guest bedroom. But the vibes is not very welcoming since its not yet decorated properly)

Fuck. You lost the game and you can't react nor beg for anyone to exchange with you. You don't want to cause an issue and make them feel that something is wrong. Because in the first place, nothing is wrong. Technically. You are just....... cautious with Wooyoung because you don't want to have more feelings for him.

Yes he is your friend. But being a girl surrounded by hot men that are your friends, for sure you are bound to have infatuation with one of them. And unlucky you... it is wooyoung. The guy who keeps hitting on you.

"Try not to snore too much, Woo! Y/N needs her beauty sleep." San says

"And turn off your phone okay?" Seonghwa puts his arm around you. "Stop thinking about that guy..."

Wooyoung glances at you and Hwa "What guy?"

You then poke Seonghwa on his stomach with your elbows. "I'm already over him. Stop mentioning it."

Hwa laughs at your reaction. "Are you really?" He pats your head like a big brother that he is for you.

"Do we know this guy?" San asks

"Not really..." Jongho answers as he walk pass to grab his phone. "He is a football player from a different school..." and then goes back to the kitchen.

"And how did you know this guy?" Wooyoung asks trying not to sound bitter or jealous

"It's in the past." You mumble trying not to make them anymore curious. But since Wooyoung is already heated deep down because of the fact that there is another guy interested in you that you never mentioned before.

"Tell us more." He says to hwa

"Well... we met the guy when Y/N came to watch with me... coz a childhood friend of mine is going to that uni. We met them and his team... and this guy... who is famous in their school... liked Y/N..."

"And then what happened?" San scoots over and giving you a teasing smile.

"Nothing happened..." you answer as you pinch his cheek.

"The guys schedule is too hectic to even have time for Y/N... so... she decided to let it go." Hwa adds

"Why do you know all of this? And none of us did?" Wooyoung asks

You glance at him and saw his expression. He looks a little hurt.

"Let's not talk about it okay?" You stand up and hop over the boys legs. "I'm going to shower now... let's move on and you guys go ahead to your rooms... it's late... I need to sleep."

"Fine...." San pouts as he gets up as well. "You can chat about it some other time."

"No..." you stick your tongue out and make your way upstairs to get your things and shower.

***

"What is that guy's name?"

You haven't even had the chance to lay down properly yet, Wooyoung is already asking question about the guy Hwa mentioned.

"Do you text him a lot? Are you still in contact with him?"

"Wooyoung..."

"Are you not in the mood because of him? Are you not texting or calling me back because... OF him?"

You sigh as you put your feet and legs under the thick blanket. "Like I said... it's in the past. We stopped texting like sweet and flirtatious... like late last year..."

"Sweet and fliratious...?" He repeats under his breathe. "But do you still talk to him?"

"From time to time... yes..."

Wooyoung slams his phone on the nightstand and gets under the sheets, turning his back on you.

"What's your problem?"

"You."

"Me? What did I do?!"

He then gets up, startling you and then climbs on top of you. You were about to squeal but he covered your mouth before you could even.

"You are avoiding me... trying to get to know you more... and yet you had this... thing with a football player?"

You bite his finger making him hiss and move a little off you. "You should know why!" You snap back at him. "We are friends... you are not supposed to do what you do with your exes to me."

He frowns. "What does that supposed to mean? And who the fuck said that I am going to treat you like my exes?"

"No one..."

"So you just made that up? And assumed I am the bad guy?"

"Can you blame me? Look at your dating profile. None of them lasted three months."

"Thats because they all cheated on me!" He says exasperatedly then flopping back to bed. "I guess you're not that interested with me coz you don't try to ask for facts..."

You got silenced. You didn't know. You didn't bothered asking around.

"And also... I don't just go around and fuck around... I may look like I have a reputation.. but I respect women okay? And I am a romantic guy..."

You still don't speak up. You just stare at the ceiling and let him talk.

"So... all this time... you assumed that I am just going to play around?" He asks

You look away. "Yes."

He gets up to sit and look at you. "What the fuck?"

You then get up too. "I'm sorry okay? But can you blame me? That's all I know from you...well regards to your dating okay? and the way you text me... its giving..  fuck boy."

"A fuck boy?" He laugh. "How do I even text you? What do I do to give that vibes?" He's not sure if he is offended or being complimented. He just laughs it off  "Seonghwa is right..." he continues. "Even though you hang out with us... a bunch of guys... you are still a girl... not that I am.. trying to say girls are very dramatic and overthinking...but ya know..."

You glare at him. "Fine. I am. And so what?" You roll your eyes

"Nothing...I'm just saying... plus I don't give damn."

"What? What does that supposed to mean?"

Wooyoung looks at you. A small smile on his lips. "I still like you... even you labelled me as a player."

"Shut up." You hit him with your pillow

"Hey! I am serious."

"I am too!" You hit him again. "Shut up!"

"Shut up or else what?"

You press your lips together and stare at him. Unsure what to say.

But you are glad though that he sort of cleared a few things about him. Your misconception about him. Which is your fault too. You judged him a little too much because you try to find things to hate about him so that you would not step over the boundry that you're trying to avoid.

"Y/N... do you like me or not?" He suddenly asks. "Just tell me... and if you say no... I will stop. I'll go back to the old Wooyoung... not caring and texting you everyday... or wanting your attention..."

You sigh

"And don't give me the bullshit that you thought we are just friends thing. Okay? You know what we've been doing these past few months. We are texting and calling each other, yes... but... I know how we do skinship had evolved." He moves closer. "I know how you felt whenever we cuddle during movie nights... and whenever my lips brushed over your ears as I hug you closer..." he is now centimeters away from you and you are not moving away. "C'mon sweety... just be honest." He smirks

Oh you hate that smirk. You hate it because he already knows but he is still asking you. He wants you to say the obvious.

"Fuck you!" You mutter before launching yourself to him.

You are kissing him and he is kissing you back. And as you two continue to suck each others lips off your faces, the more your bodies react with the friction and the touches that you are giving.

"Touch me more..." you breathe out. "Please..."

Wooyoung is on top of you, grinding his pelvis on to your covered area. His hands are busy grabbing your ass or your hips. His grind is hard and making sure even with all of those layers of cloth. You could feel his errection ready to penetrate in you.

"You sound so divine..." he hums as he continues to give you wet kisses all over your neck

"Ahh fuck..." you grab onto his hair and pull it so he could look back at you. "This is so wrong... we are friends..."

"Friends my ass..." he smirks. "We're definitely leveling up after this." and goes back to nibbling your skin and leaving kiss marks all over.

He undresses himself totally, throwing his pajamas somewhere while for you, only your shorts and undies are off. He did put the thick blanket over you two as you still feel a little bit shy being this exposed to him. He understands.

"I'll take care of you..." he whispers, kissing the back of your hand. "What will you say if it hurts?"

"Watermelon." Your voice is so soft and weak. You sound nervous. You are not a virgin but of course, the though of fucking your friend still lingers in your brain. It's a new experience.

"Good..." he gives you a long, sweet smooch before he lowers his body closer to you. "I will put it in now... okay?"

"Okay..."

Easing himself in, the stretch is already making your eyes roll at the back of your head. It fucking feels good. He moves his hips slower first to get you adjusted to his size. And while your brain is rotting from the sensation he is also begins exploring your mouth with his tongue.

Oh, That sharp tongue he has. Who knew that he's not just a smart ass, naughty and blunt guy with his words but also this brilliant with kissing.

"Ohh..." you suck in your breathe when you feel him hit the spot. "Oh fuck..." your mouth drops open unable to say any words out as he continues to hit it

"Shit!" He hisses as he felt you tighten. "Your squeezing me..." he lowers his body to embrace you. "Shit... I'm close..."

You wrap your arms around his shoulder and kiss the curve of his neck. "Can you... come in me?"

His cheeks heats up hearing your words. That made his dick twitch. He likes the way you said. "Are you sure?"

You nod. "Please? Don't worry... I'm on birth control. I just... I want to feel it... everything..."

Wooyoung bites his lips, supressing a blushing smile. "Fuck... why do you sound so sexy saying that?"

His dick felt the rush from your words. He continued to thrust fast and strong until you both reached the end goal. Both of you came and flops down to the bed like you hiked Mt. Everest in a day.

"That was amazing..." he proudly smiles. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

You cover yourself with the blanket and lay on your side facing him. "I'm okay..." you smile. "I'm sleepy now..." you trail off. "I've never been this tired after having sex before..."

His eyebrows twitches. "Coz you haven't had the taste of me... that's why." He leans over and kisses you on the cheek. "And please... don't mention any of your exes... I'd want them to be erased in your memory... you have me now. Just me... okay?"

Slowly your eyes closes. "Hmmm..." you answer. "Whatever you say..."

He snorts a weak laugh as he watches you slowly go to sleep without even realizing it.

"You're so fucking cute." He says

Wooyoung covers you more, hiding your disheveled and after sex state. Then he gets up to fix himself up so he can sleep next to you. But then, after a few heart beats he hears someone walking down the stairs.

"Yah... seriously... you two should've atleast closed the door." He softly says. It was Seonghwa who looks a bit shookt and worried.

Wooyoung smirks. "Are we that loud?"

"Loud enough to be heard in the living room. You are lucky the rest of the guys are upstairs and Jongho's parents are not here."

"Sorry... we are just..."

"Hush. I am not judging... we already know the things between you two... its kinda obvious..." Seonghwa yawns. "Next time.... just do it when we are not around okay? Just go fucking date or whatever." He turns around and takes a sip of his warm milk. "Also... make it official okay... like say it. You know Y/N likes things to he clear. Don't do what the other guy did." He says before leaving the basement room.

"I will." Wooyoung answers before laying beside you and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

[harrywavycurly]

Boyfriend Harry chats? Miss him a bit 💕

Hiii lovey!! I miss boyfriend Harry a bit as well so I hope you enjoy these convos with him! I did it a bit different this time as all these convos go along with each other, I thought that would be fun! 💖

-find all things Boyfriend Harry here✨

A/N: You and Harry are on a little getaway and these are some convos you two have one day during it, enjoy✨

“Don’t even say it.” “I wasn’t going to say anything love…” “Really? Then what’s with the face?” “What face? This is just how I look?” “Mhhmm…you know I can’t sleep without him Harry so I don’t know why you look all shocked he’s here.” “I’m not shocked he’s here love I’m…just shocked at how you threw him on the bed…you yell at me when I toss him about at home.” “I did not throw him on the bed I gently-” “gently? Baby there was nothing gentle about how you threw that bear.” “That bear?” “Forgive me…there was nothing gentle about how you threw Teddy Snuggles on this bed…look at him he’s face down in the pillows…he can’t even breathe properly because of how you just threw him on here.” “Well then fix him Harry don’t just stand there and let him struggle.” “Oh I’m allowed to touch him now am I?” “You’ve always been allowed to touch him but you’re just rough with him because you get jealous I like to snuggle with him.” “I do not get jealous of Teddy.” “Harry…” “I….well..I don’t get jealous of him anymore.”

“Baby why is all your jewelry in a…sunglasses case?” “I was in a hurry.” “In a hurry? We had this trip planned for a month.” “Yeah but I was in a hurry when I was packing…and I couldn’t find my jewelry case so..I just went with what I could find.” “And what you could find was a…Gucci sunglasses case?” “Yes…while you’re snooping around my stuff can you hand me my silver hoop earring please?” “Sure love…should we maybe get you a jewelry case while we are here? This…this is just going to be a tangled mess by the time we leave.” “You just like buying me things don’t you?” “That and this just really bothers me…I can’t have you using a sunglasses case to hold your jewelry.”

“Put that eyebrow away Harry.” “What?” “You know what.” “I just..he’s staring at you.” “Maybe he’s staring at you? You’re the one dressed like you’re on a red carpet and not just a little dinner date with your girlfriend.” “No I watched him look at you…and every dinner date with you is an event so I like to dress up for you love.” “I appreciate it…but really put the eyebrow away or I won’t be able to focus on eating my pasta and you know how much I love pasta.” “Maybe that’s my whole goal?…trying to distract you so you can’t focus on anything but me?” “God you’re such a narcissist…but at least let me get a few bites in before you really try to distract me.” “Okay I’ll give you a few moments of peace but really did you not notice him staring at you?” “No…I kinda only noticed my incredibly hot boyfriend…and-” “and your bowl of pasta?” “Exactly…talk about a dream combination.” “Yeah? Me and pasta huh? That’s what you dream about?” “Oh yeah…wanna hear one of my wildest fantasies?” “Is it me feeding you pasta in bed?” “How’d you know?” “Just a lucky guess…wanna hear one of mine?” “I do but…I’m pretty sure it’s not dinner table appropriate so let’s save it for our post dinner walk around the resort yeah?” “You know me too well…I love you..have I told you that today?” “Only like five times so feel free to say it a few more…I love you too though incase you didn’t know.”

“Why are hotel beds so comfy? Is it some sort of special cushioning in the mattresses?” “Oh love…I absolutely adore the random things that come to your mind before you go to sleep.” “I’m serious…I bet if we bought this mattress and took it home the moment it got into the house it wouldn’t feel the same…it’s like it only will feel all comfy and squishy while inside a hotel room.” “Do you want to test that theory?” “No…well..no that would be silly.” “We’ve done sillier things haven’t we?” “Who is we? Because if you’re referring to the time you bought that insanely expensive rug from that hotel in Italy to see if it would make you feel like you were on holiday while back in New York-” “excuse me? You’re the one who told me to buy it.” “No I said it was a pretty rug..no where in that sentence did I say buy it.” “Baby you literally were in the tub going oh I’m gonna miss this soft rug it feels so nice on my feet…it’s so pretty…Harry can we buy one like this?” “One like this…that doesn’t mean go down to the lobby and demand them to sell you the one from our room.” “I was four glasses of red wine in and you know you can’t talk to me about buying things when I’m that far gone…besides it does make me think back to that holiday every time I see it..also I didn’t demand them to sell it to me I asked very nicely.” “Right yes…you pretty much told them you were taking the rug so they could just charge you whatever they wanted.” “And they did…bit overpriced I think but it’s worth it because you like it.” “We aren’t buying the mattress Harry.” “If you say so…” “where would we even put it?” “In a guest bedroom?” “How would we get it home?” “Ship it?” “Harry…” “I’m not gonna buy it…I might see what brand it is and buy one that hasn’t been used by a few hundred people though…would that still work to test your theory of it only being comfy in a hotel room?” “I think so.” “Right then…” “what are you doing? Where are-” “Looking for a tag…don’t they usually have-ah ha found it.” “This takes the cake for oddest thing we have ever done after sex.” “Really? What about that time when all you wanted after was a fucking fruit cup and it was bloody three in the morning and I didn’t have any pineapple and you started crying-” “I didn’t cry you asshole I was just upset because what’s a fruit cup without pineapple?” “Anyway…so I had to go out and find a damn pineapple at three in the morning.” “I mean it was in New York so…it didn’t take you very long since the little shop on the corner was open…don’t make it sound so dramatic.” “You’re lucky I love you so much…no one else in the whole world I’d go searching for a pineapple at three in the morning for after having mind blowing sex.” “Ah well maybe it was the mind blowing sex that made you want to make me happy and go get me a pineapple? So I’d want to keep you around?” “Maybe….it did seem to work since you’re still here.” “It did..I love you..now come cuddle me before I kick you out for good and give all my love to Teddy.”