#I didn’t feel like erasing it so I just. Put it on top | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fireinmoonshot · 2 months ago

Text

love that lasts | joaquín torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: When Thanos snapped his fingers and erased half of all life from the universe, he also took you from Joaquín. Five years later, he is still trying to learn how to live without you – until the Avengers can save the world. Warnings: Google Translate is my best friend – apologies if the Spanish is used incorrectly in this fic, I do not speak it but I tried my best to make sure I used words properly. Mentions of bad mental health, nightmares. It's very angsty at the start, has a bit of fluff, but mostly full of angst. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched Infinity War and Endgame last week and came up with this idea. Since we know that Joaquín survived the snap, I decided I wanted to write something angsty about where you didn't survive and this was born. This was the most challenging fic for Joaquín I've written so far but also the most rewarding, I think. I know everyone's really moved on from the whole Infinity War/Endgame thing regarding fics, but I really wanted to write this so I hope people will enjoy it. The title of the fic comes from 'Still' by Noah Kahan – I had his album on repeat almost the entire time I was writing this.

Joaquin Torres always knew that the Avengers were going to save the world. From the moment that half of all life on Earth had disappeared, he knew that whatever had happened, the Avengers would somehow find a way to fix things.

He just didn’t count on it being five years later.

There had been one good thing that had come out of him not being blipped, though – the fact that his mom hadn’t been either. If he’d had to live without her, he’s sure he would have gone insane. Because it was hard enough to live without you.

He’d spent days wishing that he’d been taken too. The first few days had been the worst. He’d been unable to leave the house, having to learn to grieve you when he wasn’t even sure if you were dead or just gone.

He remembered every moment of that first day like it was yesterday. How he’d just arrived home from going to pick up some takeout for the two of you and he’d seen his neighbour turn to dust in his front yard while he’d been outside gardening, making the most of the evening light. He thought he must have just been seeing things.

He’d walked through the front door of your home and called out your name, heading into the kitchen to put the take out down before he went to find you, feeling more than confused. Then you’d appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and Joaquin had been flooded with relief.

“I’m home, angel, I have the takeout in the kitchen, come get yours” Joaquin called, starting to get the take out from the bags. “Hey, have you seen anything weird on TV today?”

“Joaquin…”

He’d looked up at you, then, just soon enough to see you say his name as you slowly started to turn to dust in front of his eyes. The blanket that had been wrapped around your shoulders fell to a pile on the floor as Joaquin stared at where you had been standing only seconds earlier.

“Angel?” Joaquin’s voice was small, hesitant. He put the container down that he’d been holding and walked towards the doorway, half expecting you to be hiding behind the wall, ready to jump out and scare him. It’d been a trick of the light, something like that. But all that was left of you was the blanket on the floor and your phone which had fallen on top of it.

He’d fallen to the floor, grabbing the blanket in his hands and holding it to his chest for what felt like hours as the feeling of numbness overtook him. The blanket still smelled like you and he never wanted to let it go.

Whatever was happening, whatever had happened to your neighbour and to you… there was nothing Joaquin could do about it. He wasn’t an Avenger, he wasn’t anyone special. He knew in that moment that he was going to have to live with it. That fact alone could have killed him.

His knees went numb after kneeling on the floor for so long but he couldn’t find it in himself to pull himself up from the floor. Not even when the sun finally set and the house was blanketed in darkness. The food on the counter had long gone cold. It was only when your phone, sitting in his lap, buzzed, that he’d been pulled out of his stupor. His mother was trying to ring you. She’d thought Joaquin had been taken when she couldn’t get a hold of him, but the second he answered your phone, she knew that you were gone.

Joaquin had stayed with his mother for a while after that, not being able to bring himself to be in the house without you there. There were memories of you in that house everywhere he looked. The sheets still smelled of you, all of your things were still in the cupboards, every time he opened up Netflix, your profile was there. Everything was there except for you.

“You could always sell the house and move back home with me properly, mijo,” his mother had said. “It’s not smart to be paying your mortgage on that house when no one is living in it.”

He shook his head. “I know it’s not smart, mamá, but I just can’t. We bought that house together. We were making a life there. I can’t even bring myself to move her things, how could I sell the place and clear everything out?”

His mother reached across the table and placed her hand over Joaquin’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Then you’ll stay here until you’re ready to go home.”

“I don’t know if it will ever really be home without her, mamá,” Joaquin said honestly, meeting her eyes. His were full of tears, as they were most days since you’d gone.

There was no hesitation as his mother stood up from the table and walked around to him, wrapping her arms around him to pull him into a hug. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “She was the love of your life. Just like your father was the love of mine. You don’t have to move on like she never existed, mijo. Time will continue to pass and she will continue to be with you, even when you cannot see her.”

Joaquin sniffed, holding his mother close as he cried. “I really love her, mamá,” he murmured, not really expecting her to hear him since his voice was so muffled.

She did, though. Gently rubbing his back, she closed her eyes and let out a long, shaky sigh. “I know you do. I loved her too, mijo. Just like she was my own,” she hummed. “Don’t lose hope. She will return to you one day, I believe that. Your soulmate will find you wherever you are, in any life.”

As the years went on, Joaquin started to believe that this was the way it was always going to be. The Avengers had not saved the world like he thought they would. And he was going to have to learn to live the rest of his life with only memories of you. Like his mother had said, time continued to pass, no matter how much he wished it wouldn’t.

The world changed. He changed. Things became darker and he became darker with them, though he desperately tried to keep the spark alive in his chest – if only because he knew that was what you’d want him to do. You would want him to still be the same Joaquin that you’d loved, but how could he be that person without you?

He threw himself into his job, working day and night to try and keep himself afloat. It seemed strange to be doing such mundane things in a world that was so different. To have to keep earning money to pay the mortgage of your house. To have to get out of bed every morning and shave. To have to make food for himself to eat during the day. To have to go to the grocery store to get milk for breakfasts and coffees.

Five years had passed slowly. Joaquin had made it through them relatively unscathed, with a few mental scars here and there. Every day he was grateful that he still had his mom. That she was there to comfort him when the days were hard and that he was still alive to be there for her as well. If she’d been alone through all of this, it would have broken Joaquin’s heart even more.

When he eventually moved back into your home, every time he cooked dinner it was like you were in the room with him. He could feel your hand on his back as he cooked, your arms around his waist as he washed the dishes. It was like you were still there with him, but then he’d blink and the memories were gone, washed down the sink with the water he drained.

He still cooked enough food for two people before realising it was only him. For a while, he could never bring himself to eat the second serving, until times got harder and he couldn’t afford to waste anything.

He would be laying in bed at night and he could swear he could feel your arm draped across his side. He could feel the ghost of your kisses on his lips. Your side of the bed was empty every night and yet, he could never bring himself to wash the pillowcase you’d once slept on for fear of the way you smelt disappearing entirely, forcing him to lose another part of you. He couldn’t lose anymore of you.

His friends who had survived the blip had suggested that he put himself back out there. Go on a date, find someone new. There were plenty of stories of people who had gone to support groups after losing loved ones and had found new love there. The likelihood of everyone who had been blipped coming back was slim to none, so why not? But Joaquin could never bring himself to let you go. Even just thinking about going on a date with someone else filled him with guilt. People had tried to set him up on dates but he had never gone through with actually going on any of them.

His mom was the only one who understood. Even if it meant that her baby would never be able to give her the grandchildren she’d wanted for so long, it didn’t matter to her. She had loved you like you were her own child. All she wanted was for Joaquin to be happy and for some miracle to bring you back to him so that he could be. But even she had lost hope after the past five years that anything could bring you back to him.

And then… the Avengers saved the world.

~~~

That morning, Joaquin is sitting in a coffee shop – one that had been your favourite before you were gone. He’s missing you a little more than normal this morning and had decided that a good way to feel like he was with you would be to come out and spend time at a place you loved. He’s taking a sip of his coffee when someone suddenly appears in the chair opposite him.

Joaquin almost chokes on his drink, coughing a little as he looks at the man in front of him. He hadn’t walked in from anywhere, he hadn’t been in the coffee shop before. He’d just… appeared. What the hell was going on?

“What the…” the man says, looking around the coffee shop with a confused and haunted look in his eyes. “You’re not my wife… I was just sitting here with her… Where is Sylvia?”

Joaquin’s eyes widen. For a moment he wonders if the man is just confused, maybe there’s something wrong with him mentally and this is his way of asking Joaquin for help… but then, on the table in front of him, his phone lights up and starts to ring.

The contact photo is of you and the name on the screen is yours.

He drops his coffee, spilling a little on the table as he reaches for his phone. His hands are already starting to shake. A part of him thinks this must all be a cruel joke. Someone has broken into your house and stolen your phone, or there’s some kind of technological glitch. But another part of him, the part that is still hoping after all these years, truly believes that when he answers the phone, your voice will be the one he hears on the other end of the line.

“Angel?” Joaquin’s voice is hopeful as he holds his phone up to his ear and presses the answer button. “Is that you?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line and Joaquin’s stomach drops. But then he hears it. “Joaquin… where are you? What’s going on?” Your voice – your voice on the other end of the line. It’s real. By some miracle, you’re home. “You were just unpacking the takeout and then…”

“Angel, just stay there, okay? I’m coming home,” Joaquin says to you, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair as he stands up. “I’m so sorry, sir. You should call your wife,” he mutters to the man still sitting on the chair opposite him, looking confused.

He takes off at a run, almost running straight into a few people walking through the door of the cafe. He doesn’t hang up the phone the entire time he’s running home, just grateful that your favourite coffee shop is within walking distance of your house. He’s grateful that he wasn’t driving – he doubts he’d be able to focus on the road properly, knowing that you’re home and waiting for him.

Joaquin runs faster than he’s ever run in his entire life. His throat hurts from his heavy breathing and the air rushing in and there’s a stitch forming on his side. There’s sweat dripping down his forehead, owing to the sweater he’d put on this morning and the pace at which he’s running. But he’s not going to stop or slow down for even a second until he gets to you.

Once he reaches your street, he pushes himself to run even faster. He can see your house in the distance and he hopes he’s not dreaming as he runs towards it. He doesn’t think he can deal with the pain of walking inside the house and not seeing you inside again.

He’s breathing heavily as he reaches the front door, fumbling in his pocket for the key. He doesn’t even notice his neighbour in the front yard, the one he’d seen disappear five years ago, standing right where he’d disappeared, holding his wife close.

Joaquin doesn’t manage to get the key in the front door before it’s pulled open, his hands shaking too much with adrenaline. His head snaps up and his eyes fall on you, your hand on the door handle and your cheeks tear-streaked as you look at him.

“Oh, dios mío,” Joaquin mutters, instantly stepping inside the door and wrapping his arms around you. He holds you tightly to his chest, worried that you’re going to disappear from his arms for good this time. “Are you real? Are you actually here? I’m dreaming. I must be dreaming. This can’t be real.”

Your hands fist the fabric of his sweater as he holds you close. Whatever happened, you don’t really know yet, but what you do know is that Joaquin is acting like he hasn’t seen you for years. The house looks the same, you’d noticed, as you’d walked around before Joaquin came home and you heard the sound of his keys at the door. But something is off.

“I’m real, Joaquin,” you murmur into his ear. “You’re not dreaming. But I don’t know what’s going on… where did you go? You were unpacking takeout and then you were gone.”

Joaquin pulls away from the hug but still keeps his arms firmly wrapped around your waist. He can’t bring himself to let go and he fears it’s going to be that way forever now. “Angel, it’s… it’s been five years since I last saw you. Thanos… he wiped out half of all life in the universe… you were– you were gone.” Tears start to fall down Joaquin’s cheeks and he doesn’t realise until your hand moves to gently swipe them away. He leans into your palm, finding comfort in the feeling of your warm hand on his cheek. “But the Avengers… whatever they did brought you back to me. It was them, I know it must’ve been.”

He internally curses himself for ever doubting them.

“Five years?” You frown, eyebrows knotting together as you try and piece things together in your mind. For you, it had just been like you’d blinked and things had changed but for Joaquin… it had been five years. Five years without you, and yet when you’d called… he had literally come running. “I was gone for five years?”

Joaquin nods, reaching one hand up to wipe the tears from your own face. He can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been for you to come back and not find him anywhere, for you to be alone in the house. He’s more grateful than ever now that he never tried to sell the house. If you’d come back and an entire new family had been living in your house…

“They were the hardest five years of my life, angel,” he says softly. “I thought that you were gone forever.”

You look at him for a moment, a little confused. “But you still live here… you still kept my number in your phone… you– Joaquin, you came running to me when I called… what have you been doing for the last five years?”

Joaquin’s heart cracks a little in his chest. “Angel, I’ve been waiting for you.”

With that, he can’t bring himself to maintain his self control any longer. The hand that had wiped the tears off your cheeks gently holds the back of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. You reciprocate immediately. Five years of wanting, five years of waiting for something he was sure was never going to come… a kiss five years in the making. Joaquin is surprised he was able to hold off for so long. He’s never going to take advantage of kissing you ever again.

~~~

A little later, you and Joaquin sit on the couch in the living room. Your hands are entwined, legs tangled under a blanket in front of you. It had taken a while to pull yourselves from the doorway. You were both in a little bit of shock – Joaquin in shock that you were finally back here after five years, you in shock that you had been gone that long.

“You really never dated anyone at all in the last five years?” You ask, resting your head on his shoulder as one of his fingers draws patterns on your palm that slightly tickles.

Joaquin looks down at you and sighs. “Believe me, my friends tried to make me. They even set up a couple of dates for me to go on, but I never went on any of them. I just couldn’t bring myself to get out the front door.”

Frowning, you look up at him. “Why not?”

“Because none of them were you, angel.”

He gives your hand a squeeze and you snuggle closer into his side. You’d been insecure in your relationship at times – five years ago – but you knew you could never be insecure about it anymore. How many other people could say their partner had waited five years for them on a sliver of hope that they’d come back after disappearing from the universe?

In his pocket, Joaquin’s phone starts to buzz. He pulls it out of his pocket and smiles as he sees his mothers contact on the screen. “I’ve got a phone call for you, mi amor.” He hands the phone to you and his heart warms as he sees your smile upon seeing who’s calling. “I think she almost missed you more than I missed you.”

You take the phone off of Joaquin and instantly hit answer, holding the phone up to your ear. “Suegrita,” is all you say and even though Joaquin isn’t holding the phone, he can already hear his mothers cries on the other side of the line.

He motions for you to put the call on speaker.

“Mamá, you told me not to lose hope,” he says, taking advantage of a moment of silence from the other end of the line while his mother isn’t sobbing. He’s already planning to go and see her as soon as possible – especially when she’s like this.

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of his mothers sobs on the other end of the line, and then she speaks. “You bring her home to see me soon, mijo!” She exclaims to Joaquin. “Mi querida niña, you do not understand how happy I am that you are home with your love.” Her words are directed at you now.

There are already tears streaming down your cheeks at her words. “You must have taken really good care of him these past five years for me, suegrita,” you sniff. “Thank you for looking after him when I couldn’t.”

Joaquins arm wraps around your shoulders and squeezes tightly.

“I knew you would come home to him one day, querida,” his mom says. “Soulmates will find each other in life no matter what comes between them. I told him that years ago.”

His mother only hangs up after Joaquin promises that he’ll bring you around to see her tomorrow. You know you’re going to need to prepare yourself for plenty of hugs and kisses from her, and even though for you it’s only been a matter of weeks since you’ve seen her, it’s been five years since she saw you. It’s going to take a while to get used to that fact.

“Mamá took good care of me, angel,” Joaquin says, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “I don’t know what I would have done without her here. I cried in her arms more than I can count over the past five years.”

You frown, moving until you’re straddling Joaquin’s lap and you can hug him properly. You bury your head in his neck and one of your hands moves to rest in his hair. His arms wrap around your back. “You don’t have to cry anymore, baby.”

Joaquin chuckles a little. “I think I’m probably still going to do a lot of that. I can’t make any promises, angel,” he rubs your back. “A part of me still thinks I’m dreaming. That I’m going to wake up any second and you’re going to be gone.”

You pull away just enough so you can look him in the eyes. “I’m real, Joaquin. I’m not going anywhere. Not unless there’s some other alien out there that’s going to get rid of half all life in the universe again.”

He scrunches up his nose. “Don’t joke about that. Too soon.”

Smiling, you lean in and touch the tip of your nose against his gently. Joaquin takes advantage of the closeness of your face to lean up and capture your lips with his. He can feel you smiling into the kiss. Maybe if he does this enough, he can make his brain realise that this is real. That you’re here in his arms, your lips on his. That against all odds, you’re home.

~~~

He knows the nightmares aren’t going to go away any time soon. They’ve been plaguing him for years at this point. He’s lost count of the amount of times he’s woken up from a dream that you were alive, or a nightmare where he had you back only to lose you again. It’s why, when he wakes up later that night, his heart racing and sweat drenching his body, that it’s not a surprise to him.

What does surprise him is that he forgets you’re here now. It’s not until he hears your soft, sleep filled voice speak his name and feels the mattress move underneath him that he spins around from where he’d moved to sit on the edge of the bed to see you.

“Baby, are you okay?” You ask quietly.

Joaquin takes you by surprise by pretty much launching himself at you. He places a hand on your cheek, another one on your thigh. You’re sitting up, legs crossed, staring at him full of worry.

“Baby?” You try again.

“You’re real,” Joaquin mutters. “I’m not dreaming. It’s not a nightmare.”

You reach up a hand to rest on the one on your cheek. “It’s not a nightmare. I’m real.”

Tears fill Joaquin’s eyes again. He’s still haunted by the nightmare, one where he’d lost you again, and his brain is just sleepy enough to make him think that this is all a dream, even after trying to convince himself that it isn’t. Even after hearing your words confirm that it isn’t.

“Please don’t leave me,” he murmurs.

You shuffle closer to him until you’re face to face, until you can feel his unsteady breaths on your face and your noses are almost touching. “I’m not going anywhere, Joaquin.”

He brushes his lips against yours softly, barely even a kiss. “Don’t leave me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and kiss him properly in an attempt to wake him up a little. It’s almost like he’s still in the midst of the nightmare, that he can’t manage to pull himself out of it completely. The fact that he’s had to deal with all of this alone for the past five years makes your heart hurt.

“I’m home now, baby,” you mutter against his lips after you pull away. “I’m not leaving you. I’m home.”

Joaquin’s arms move to pull you closer to him until you’re almost sitting in his lap. “You’re home,” he says softly.

“I’m home,” you repeat.

He takes a moment to just breathe, then. Focusing on the feeling of your hands on him, the feeling of his hands on you, trying to ground himself. You’re home. You are really home. And for the first time in five years… Joaquin finally feels like he is home too.

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america brave new world #mcu #mcu x reader #i'm lowkey terrified to post this cause this fic feels so special to me #but i really hope people will enjoy it!!

714 notes · View notes

this-is-tiny-mia · 2 months ago

Text

Sorry, wrong number (H.S. One Shot) Part 3 (Last Part)

General Masterlist Summary: A wrong-number text leads to an unexpected connection between a you and a stranger. What starts as a playful exchange quickly becomes the highlight of their days, leaving you curious about the man behind the messages.

Finally Y/N and Harry give in to their feelings.

A/n: I CANNOT BELIEVE HOW MUCH SUPPORT THIS SERIES GOT, I HAD SO SO SO SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT AND I CAN'T WAIT TO DO MORE STUFF. Thanks if you liked, shared, left a comment, anything! REALLY THANK YOU SO SO MUCH.

Thanks to the best of the best @eileenrry for hyping me up (It's already saturday over there so i guess it's fair i'm publishing this now) Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: A LOT OF FLUFF AND A LOT OF CHEESY DATES YOU'LL BE THROWING UP BY THE END OF IT. MAINLY CUTESY STUFF FOR YOU TO FANTASIZE ABOUT. Use of y/n, everything happens really fast, time moves QUICK.

You read his text again, your heart racing. It was playful, sure, but there was something else—something unspoken, just under the surface.

"I think it means we’re in trouble," you finally typed, keeping it vague. You didn’t want to assume anything yet.

"Trouble? 🤔" His reply came almost immediately. "Define trouble."

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard. How could you define something you didn’t fully understand yourself? How could you put butterflies at full speed into words?

"I don’t know," you typed. "Maybe… when someone sneaks into your head when you’re supposed to be working, and suddenly spreadsheets don’t make sense anymore."

Brave of you. Classy, even. You hit send and stared at the screen, instantly second-guessing yourself. It was honest, sure, but had you said too much?

The three little dots appeared. Then it disappeared. Then it appeared again.

Oh, shit. Please say something.

"You know what I think it means?" he finally wrote.

"What?"

"That I’ve somehow managed to ruin spreadsheets for you, and I’m not even sorry."

You giggled out loud, the sound breaking through the quiet of your room.

"Good to know you have no regrets" you replied, a smile spreading across your face that nothing could erase.

"None at all," he shot back. "But for the record, you’ve ruined a few things for me too."

The conversation hung there for a moment, his words settling over you like a soft weight. You wanted to ask what he meant, but you were terrified of the answer.

"Fair enough. I guess we’re even," you typed back.

“Want to ruin things for each other tomorrow?”

“What does that even mean?” you chuckled, staring at your phone.

“It means I’ll think of you tomorrow, and I hope you’ll think of me too. Goodnight, Tulip 🌷.”

It felt completely surreal, like you were trapped in a dream you never wanted to wake up from. You couldn’t help but thank your past self—and your lousy fingers—for mistyping that single, life-changing number. Just one little mistake, and now here you were, heart racing and thoughts spiraling every time his name lit up your screen. It was pure magic.

The next morning, you found yourself humming while making breakfast. Humming! Like you were Aurora from Sleeping Beauty, twirling around your kitchen like the birds were about to join in. You were a walking cliché, and you didn’t even care. Doomed, yes—but in the best way possible. In love, obviously. The knock at the door jolted you out of your fairytale haze. You blinked, momentarily confused, before heading to answer it. Standing there was a delivery man holding the biggest bouquet of tulips you'd ever seen—bright, colorful, and completely over-the-top in the best way.

"I didn’t…" you started, unsure if this was a mistake.

"Delivery for Y/N," the grumpy delivery man interrupted, already turning on his heel. "Have a good day or whatever." And just like that, he was gone, leaving you in the doorway with the bouquet in your hands, completely stunned. Were these even meant for you? He hadn’t checked any ID or anything. But the moment your eyes landed on the card nestled between the tulips, your heart flipped.

For Tulip From H.

It was all you needed. That tiny, scribbled note said everything. You felt the heat rush to your face as a grin spread across it. Of course they were yours. Who else would send tulips to you?

You closed the door behind you, clutching the bouquet like it was the most precious thing in the world, unable to wipe the smile off your face.you stared at the flowers like an idiot for a hot minute and quickly grabbed your phone to text him but he beat you to it, as you were typing the message his came first. “Morning Tulip, hope you were awake.”

“I was indeed, woke up to 25 tulips in my face.”

“Oh really? I thought I said 30. Someone’s getting fired,” he replied, clearly joking.

“I really love them, they’re beautiful. 25 is more than enough. Why the flowers, though?” You played the innocent card, knowing full well the answer.

“Oh, I thought I should make sure to mess with those spreadsheets today.”

The sound that escaped your mouth wasn’t even human—it was a mix between a laugh and a scream. You quickly tried to gather your thoughts to reply.

“Then how can I make sure I mess with your day?” you typed, feeling bolder than usual.

“You already are doing it, Tulip.”

And just like that, your heart was officially ruined for the day. You stared at his last message, rereading it like it held the secrets of the universe. How did he do that? Ruin your entire day—in the best way possible—with just a few words?

“Good to know I’m effective” you replied, smirking to yourself.

“So… how do you feel about letting me ruin your evening too?”

It’s happening! Everybody calm down! it’s happening!. Your stomach flipped. You typed and deleted your reply about five times before settling on something casual.

“Depends. What do you have in mind?”

“Dinner? Unless you’re busy with those spreadsheets.” There it was again, the perfect balance of teasing and genuine interest.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your firing spree, but… dinner sounds good.”

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

As you stared at the screen, excitement mixed with nerves. Was this real? Was he actually asking you out? Tulips were one thing, but a whole dinner? That felt… bigger. And 7. It was barely 9:30 am, and you had to wait until 7? That’s torture. What were you supposed to do for the next few hours? Sit around and obsess over every possible scenario? Yeah, you did.

You groaned and tossed your phone on the couch, pacing the room like it might somehow speed up time. Maybe you’d clean the apartment—again. Or work on those spreadsheets he seemed so intent on ruining. Or maybe… you’d just spend the day imagining what this dinner would actually be like. Would it be casual, or was he planning something elaborate? What would he wear? Oh god, what should you wear? The spiral of overthinking had officially begun, and 7 PM felt like a lifetime away.

By the time 7 PM FINALLY rolled around, you were a bundle of nerves. After hours of trying on clothes and second-guessing your choices, you’d settled on something simple but flattering. You didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard, but let’s face it—you were. A buzz on your phone snapped you out of your last-minute mirror check.

“Outside. No pressure, but I’m hungry.”

You laughed, grabbed your bag, and took one last deep breath before stepping outside. There he was, leaning casually against his car, looking effortlessly perfect. How was it possible for someone to make standing look so good? Only Harry Styles.

“Nice ride,” you teased, trying to hide your nerves.

“Nice dress,” he shot back, smirking as he opened the passenger door for you. LOST, you are more than lost for this man.

The drive was filled with the kind of banter that felt like second nature by now. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going, just that it was “low-key, but worth it.” That’s what you expected actually, he was really recognizable, and you? could be mistaken for a waitress if some took the correct picture. Harry Styles and who is she? But then you ended up at a cozy little Italian place tucked away in a quiet corner of the city.

“Looks amazing” you asked as he held the door open for you.

“Wait till you taste it” he said, leading you inside. Wait…was that….about the restaurant? or….

The atmosphere was warm and intimate, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. You sat across from him at a small corner table, feeling like the rest of the world had disappeared.

“Alright, let’s get this out of the way,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “Tell me all the embarrassing stories about yourself before the breadsticks get here.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Absolutely not. But I’ll trade one for one if you’re brave enough.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s on.”

The night unfolded with laughter, stolen glances, and stories that made both of you feel like you’d known each other forever. At some point, you realized you hadn’t checked your phone once—a miracle in itself. You were used to distract yourself whenever the guy you were out with started to talk about bitcoin or some pyramid scheme. When the check came, he waved you off before you could even reach for your wallet.

“Don’t start,” he warned, smirking. “Consider it a payment for ruining your spreadsheets.”

I don’t even think we can still say butterflies. let’s evolve to a full on zoo. As he walked you back to your door later that night, the air between you felt charged but comfortable. You paused, turning to face him.

“Thank you. For tonight. It was…”

“Perfect,” he finished for you, his voice soft.

You didn’t even mind that he left you with just that. No kiss, no dramatic goodbye.

But.

His gaze flicked to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again, and your breath caught.

‘Can I…’ he started, voice barely above a whisper, ��...do one more thing to completely ruin your night?’

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. You tilted your face up slightly, and he took the hint, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It was soft at first, tentative, like he was testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, his hand came up to gently cup your jaw, deepening the kiss just enough to leave you dizzy. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a moment, both of you breathing slightly harder.

‘I think you just ruined my whole life,’ you said. It was pathetic, but it was a completely, utterly, undeniable truth.

‘Alright, Tulip. I’ll take full responsibility. But if I’ve ruined your life, I guess I’m going to have to stick around and fix it.’

You could feel your knees WEAK.

----

By now Gwen knew about your lovelife, who didn’t when you were dating Harry Styles, it was really difficult to hide the blushing moments, the giggles, the fancy car that picked you up every now and then, Your days were magical. MORE than magical.

May 12

Harry had sent you a song that morning with a simple text

“This one it’s just pure truth. Song link Specially 2:32”

Listening to it on repeat throughout the day, you couldn’t help but smile. It was one of those songs that felt like a confession, like it was saying all the things he hadn’t quite said yet.

"Are you trying to tell me something, Mr. Styles?" you texted.

"YOU tell me 😉"

May 14

You snapped a picture of your desk—papers, coffee cups, and a very tired-looking plant all vying for space.

"Welcome to chaos" you captioned it and sent it to him.

Seconds later, a photo of a perfectly neat studio table arrived, complete with his notebook, a few pens, and an untouched cup of tea.

"Show-off" you texted.

"Organized chaos" he corrected. “Coming to make me company later?”

“Obviously”

May 18

“🌷”

Every morning now started with a single tulip emoji from Harry. No text, no explanation—just the flower. It made you laugh every time, this simple, silent ritual he’d created just for you. There was something about it—something understated and intimate.

It didn’t matter if the rest of the world felt chaotic or overwhelming; that one tiny emoji always managed to anchor you. Some days, you’d wake up to find it already waiting for you, like a quiet reminder that someone out there was thinking of you. Other days, it would pop up mid-morning, just as you were starting to feel the weight of your to-do list. But he NEVER failed to send it.

You weren’t even sure how he’d decided to start—but you knew it was the first thing you’d look for every day. It wasn’t grand or overly sentimental, but that’s what made it so special. It was Harry in the simplest, purest form—thoughtful, playful, and somehow always knowing exactly what you needed without you ever having to say a word. Sometimes, you’d reply with nothing more than a matching tulip. Other times, you’d tease him with a string of emojis—🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷—followed by a cheeky, “Did one not feel sufficient today, love?” Yes. “Love” had made its way into the conversation. Tulip was still his favorite, but love was now in the game.

He never explained it, never justified it. But in those simple tulips, he said so much more: I’m here for you. I see you. I want you.

May 30

When you told Harry you’d finally gotten the project approved at work, his response came in the form of three celebratory emojis: 🎉🥂🌷.

"I’m so proud of you, my tulip" he wrote.

It wasn’t over-the-top or overly formal, but it hit you right where it mattered. The simplicity, the care—it was so very him.

"You were the one pushing me to keep doing it at midnight that day in your apartment. So it’s all because of you 💖"

The rest of the day passed in a blur of emails, calls, and the lingering glow of Harry’s words. By the time evening rolled around, you were ready to collapse on the couch with a mindless TV show and a celebratory glass of wine. That was the plan as Harry told you he was stuck with some family stuff, at least, until the doorbell rang. You frowned. You weren’t expecting anyone. Pulling your sweater tighter around you, you padded to the door and peered through the peephole. And there he was.

Harry. Standing on your doorstep, wearing that damn smile, holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and—of course—a single tulip in the other.

You flung the door open, heart racing. "Harry, what—"

"Celebrating you, obviously," he said, stepping inside like he’d always belonged there. He handed you the tulip first, letting his fingers brush yours, then held up the champagne. "I figured we could upgrade from emojis."

You laughed, caught somewhere between disbelief and pure joy. "You didn’t have to do this."

"Didn’t I?" he countered, his tone soft but teasing. "You work so hard, Tulip. You deserve to be celebrated properly. And most importantly by your boyfriend"

It was more than 1 month since he made it completely official, and called himself your boyfriend, and you obviously didn’t argue about it, but still, it all felt like a dream. YOUR BOYFRIEND wanted to celebrate you and that’s exactly what he did. You spent the evening sitting on the living room floor, sharing stories, clinking glasses, and laughing until your cheeks hurt. At one point, he grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, and simply said, "I’m proud of you."

It wasn’t loud or flashy, but it was everything. The kind of moment that imprinted itself on your heart, quietly becoming one of your favorites.

June 8

"Busy next Friday?"

"Depends. What’s the occasion?"

"Thought you might like to see what all the fuss is about. Backstage pass included 😉. A kiss from the performer too. Maybe multiple ones."

“I ACCEPT”

Your heart raced. You weren't sure what terrified you more: being in his world or the fact that he wanted you to be. But in reality you were already in his world, of course there were many MANY articles of “Harry Styles spotted with mystery girl” but you were just too busy actually being so in love with him to even care.

July 16 It was Harry’s idea.

“I’m a decent cook,” he said, grinning as he rolled up his sleeves. “You’ll be impressed. Trust me.”

You weren’t entirely sure if you trusted him, but the idea of spending the evening in his kitchen, cooking together, sounded perfect. He handed you an apron, and you got to work. The plan was ambitious: homemade pasta and sauce, garlic bread, and a simple dessert. But things went off course almost immediately.

“Is this what dough is supposed to look like?” you asked, holding up a sticky mess that refused to cooperate.

Harry peered over your shoulder, frowning. “Uh… probably not. But it’s okay! It’s rustic.”

“Rustic,” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s your explanation for this disaster?”

“It’s charming,” he said, taking the dough from you and attempting to salvage it.

“Do you happen to have Gordon Ramsay on your contacts?” You said looking at the unfinished (a bit uneatable) dinner. “I do, but i don’t think he would want to see this”

By the time the pasta was in the pot, you were both covered in flour, and the kitchen looked like a tornado had swept through it. The sauce was a little too salty, the garlic bread had burned edges, and somehow, the dessert had completely fallen apart.But when you sat down at the tiny kitchen table, your mismatched plates in front of you, it didn’t matter.

“To our first—and possibly last—cooking adventure,” Harry said, raising his glass of wine.

“Here’s to hoping we survive the food poisoning,” you joked, clinking your glass against his.

But the truth was, the meal was delicious in its imperfection. And as you sat there, laughing and stealing bites from each other’s plates, you realized it wasn’t about the food at all. It was about this—about him.

----

It had been two days. Harry was on a quick trip to L.A., and the time zones, paired with his whirlwind schedule, made communication sporadic. You told yourself he was busy—his life was far more chaotic than yours—but the silence still felt deafening.

You’d held back from texting or calling him, trying not to seem clingy, but the doubts crept in anyway. Maybe this was too much. Maybe you were too much.

Finally, you broke. Your fingers hovered over your phone, hesitating over his contact like he wasn’t your boyfriend, like he was once again just a stranger. Before you could overthink it, you sent a simple message: “Am I ruining your days over there?👀🌷”

The minutes stretched into hours with no reply. You didn’t realize how tightly you were gripping your phone until the screen dimmed, reflecting your worried expression.

Then came the knock.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, rushing to the door.

Harry stood there, out of breath, hair disheveled, his eyes searching yours like he’d been running for miles.

“You’re in L.A.,” you blurted, confused.

“Was,” he corrected, stepping closer. “I—I couldn’t do this over text.”

“Do what?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He held up his phone, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light. Your text stared back at you.

“This. You. I literally cannot think straight when I’m away from you.” His voice cracked slightly, and your heart clenched. “I don’t care if we’re moving too fast. I think about you all the time, and I’m—”

You stepped forward, cutting him off as your arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Harry, stop,” you murmured against his chest, your voice soft but sure. “You’re here. That’s all I need.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands firm but gentle on your arms. “No, you don’t understand,” he said, his gaze steady. “I love you. Completely. Hopelessly. And I couldn’t let another second go by without telling you.”

The world seemed to tilt, his words hanging in the air.

“You idiot,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes as a smile broke through. “I love you too.”

The kiss that followed wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t a question or a test. It was an answer—a culmination of every tulip emoji, late-night text, and unspoken promise.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you laughing softly, Harry reached into his bag and pulled out a single tulip, slightly crumpled but no less beautiful.

“I couldn’t come empty-handed,” he said with a lopsided grin.

You took the flower, your smile uncontainable. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.”

That night, curled up on the couch with his arm around your shoulders and the tulip resting in a vase on the coffee table, you realized something profound.

It wasn’t the tulips, the texts, or the grand gestures that made this real. It was the quiet moments—the shared smiles, the silent understanding, the unwavering presence.

No matter what, you had each other.

Forever. --- A/n: If you made it til the end, i just want to say thanks again 🥹🫶 If you have any suggestions or comments or complaints! , please feel free to reach out! --- Taglist:

@jackiehollanderr @proudravenclawbird @hopeyoustaythenight @maryjahps @obsessiveenthusiast @liiit44 @loveheart-123 @harrystyleshotwife @harryscherries28

@addiemb8332 @cumuluscranium @gguksfilter @alemunson42069 @sarah22194 @summertime-pills @hescrush @cosmomento @harrys-wifeyy @isinpfortvdmen

@familyshow-orisit @notsosweetcreature @cevans-winchester @camillegillians @donutsandpalmtrees @amateurduck @hermionelove @misty-heartbreak

#harry styles #hs4 #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #one shot #one shot harry styles #harry styles fluff #sorry wrong number #harry fic #hs fanfic #part 3

574 notes · View notes

liviawildrose · 3 months ago

Text

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

time to step into your new era

get in, babygirl, because we are rebranding ourselves today.

that version of you? the one still clinging to self-doubt, bad habits, and an outdated mindset? she’s done. she’s served her purpose, but let’s be honest—she’s not the one who’s going to take you to the top. she’s not built for the life you dream of. she’s not the girl who walks into a room and makes everyone turn their heads. she’s not the one who dominates, who wins, who commands respect just by existing. so what do we do with something that no longer fits the vision? we rebrand.

your current self isn’t allowing you to be the greatest. she’s comfortable. she’s predictable. and let’s be real—she’s holding you back.

think of the brands you love. the ones that keep winning. they never stay the same. they evolve, they elevate, they reintroduce themselves to the world in bigger, bolder ways. you are no different.

this isn’t about pretending to be someone else. this is about becoming more you than you’ve ever been. rebranding yourself means:

this is your moment. this is your next era. and trust me, they won’t be ready for you.

let’s talk about taylor swift

taylor swift is one of the biggest artists in the world because of her talent but also because she knows how to evolve. and not just in music, but in life.

here’s the thing: she’s still the same person we fell in love with when she was a teenager. she didn’t erase her past—she built on it. her core identity? still there. her kindness, her ambition, her storytelling? untouched. but what did change?

her mindset. her perspective. her habits.

she saw what wasn’t serving her and let it go. for example, in her early years, she was more open, trusting easily. but after the kanye and kim drama (yes, we know the one), she learned the hard way that not everyone had good intentions. instead of letting it destroy her, she became more guarded, more strategic. she still loves people, but she’s no longer naive. and that’s growth. even physically, she rebranded. she used to slouch her posture made her look tired, drained. but she worked on it, did posture exercises, and now? she stands tall, commands attention, and radiates confidence.

and let’s not forget the ultimate move i.e her shift from country to pop. staying in one lane would have limited her success. so she changed. she expanded. and now she’s one of the most successful artists of all time.

and the best part? she didn’t run from her past she used it. instead of hiding from the criticism and betrayal, she made an entire album, reputation, and turned pain into profit.

that’s what rebranding is. not pretending to be someone else. not erasing your history. but looking at your past, learning from it, and making it work for you.

so, if you’ve had toxic friendships? journal about it. analyze it. use it to recognize patterns and never fall for them again. if certain habits are making you small, tired, or unnoticeable? drop them. add new ones that elevate you.

your past is gold. use it. refine it. become unstoppable.

think about luxury brands like chanel and ysl icons that have stood the test of time. they didn’t throw away their history to stay relevant. instead, they evolved while keeping their core identity intact. chanel is still the epitome of elegance and sophistication, but the collections it puts out today feel just as fresh, sexy, and desirable to younger generations. it didn’t suddenly become a streetwear brand or chase trends it simply refined itself, adapting in a way that keeps it just as powerful and respected as it was decades ago. that’s how you rebrand without losing yourself.

i know the intro is very long, but it’s needed because I don’t want you guys to think that rebranding is completely becoming someone new because unfortunately people on social media have literally made rebranding look like “ forget the person you are and become someone entirely different” like no. i want you guys to embrace yourself because that is literally how you develop self-love. the most annoying part about these influencers are the fact that they promote self-love as well as talk about becoming someone new. like what the fuck- if you really love yourself, why would you try to become someone else? you don’t have to become the internet definition of that girl. you have to become your version of that girl. you have to become your version of a high value woman.

how to rebrand yourself

alright, girls, class is in session—buckle up, because i’m about to give you a step-by-step guide on how to completely rebrand yourself and your life.

step 1: develop an unshakable amount of self-love

before we do anything, before we change a single habit, mindset, or appearance you need to build a foundation of self-love. this isn’t just the starting point but it’s something that should grow and evolve with you throughout your journey.

the first step? forgiveness. forgive yourself for everything mistakes, missed opportunities, bad decisions, even the situation you’re in right now. look yourself in the mirror and say: “from this moment forward, it’s only up from here. i refuse to let myself be in this same place again, because i love myself too much to let that happen.”

take yourself seriously. no more self-sabotage, no more excuses. from now on, you are your biggest priority.

and here’s why self-love is so important when it comes to rebranding because you are working with yourself. the person you’re becoming? she is built from who you are right now.

the body you dream of having? it will come from the body you have right now. so why hate the one that’s going to create your future self?

the mindset, confidence, and glow-up you desire? it will grow from the mindset you have right now. so why hate the version of you who’s actively trying?

if you’re reading this, you’re already taking the steps to evolve. so stop hating yourself for trying. love yourself, appreciate your effort, and watch how quickly you begin to manifest your dream life.

step 2: get crystal clear on the person you’re becoming

all right, now that you’ve built your foundation with self-love, it’s time for claritybecause you can’t become her if you don’t know who she is.

who is your higher self? how does she dress? how does she speak? how does she carry herself? how does she react in tough situations? what habits does she have?

now, let’s be real this might take time. you might only have a rough idea right now, and that’s okay. clarity comes with action. you don’t need to have every single detail figured out at the start, but you do need a general vision. maybe you know she’s more confident, more disciplined, has longer hair, or is an actress. great. we’ll refine the details as we go, but for now, let’s start getting specific.

how to get clear on your future self

1. create a pinterest boards

throw in anything that resonates with you—the fashion, the energy, the lifestyle. don’t overthink it. just pin what feels right. personally, my “my life” board has over 484 pins, my “fits” board has 848 pins, and my “mindset” board has 124 pins all this helped me to become crystal clear on my vision.

2. use the freeform app (if you have an ios device) or on a paper

draw a rough sketch of your future self—yes, draw her. even if you’re not great at drawing, create a visual representation. next, create a mind map around her. break it down: style, scent, career, habits, personality etc anything that resonates the best part about freeform? it’s limitless. every time you realize a new quality you want, like staying calm under pressure and you can add it in. but if you don’t have a ios you can do it on a paper too. (especially if you make a manifestation book and do it-)

3. make a “mindmovie.”

visualize your future self and watch it dailywhether it’s through a digital vision board, a slideshow, or even a physical notebook. repetition is key. the more you see it, the more you become it.

4. journal

journal on prompts that helps you reflect on who you wanna be

getting clear on your dream self isn’t just about fantasising it’s about creating a blueprint for the life you’re about to step into. so start now, and refine as you grow.

step 3: start acting like her

now that you have a clear vision of your dream self, it’s time to start acting as if you already are her. no, you don’t have to wait until you “have your dream life” you start living it now, in the smallest ways possible.

this step is all about embodying the identity of your higher self now, instead of waiting for some future moment. the more you act like her, the faster you will become her.

1. upgrade your daily habits

your dream life is built on the tiny habits you do every day. ask yourself:

• what time does she wake up?

• how does she take care of her body?

• what kind of content does she consume?

• how does she treats the ones around her?

start implementing these habits one by one. you don’t need a full glow-up overnight small changes add up fast. you need to get 1% better everyday that’s it as i mentioned in my take yourself seriously blog

2. change your environment

your surroundings shape you more than you think. look around and ask yourself:

• does my space reflect the person i’m try to become? (if you live with your parents rn cause a lot of you are teenagers ig; then atleast focus on keeping your wardrobe and room clean)

• is my room clean, organized, and aesthetic? or is it messy and draining my energy?

• do i surround myself with things that inspire me? in my game of life blog i mentioned the importance of environment so yeah this is basically it.

make small upgrades rearrange your room, add vision boards, photos that make you happy (your childhood memories, my family, friends etc something to look at and feel the need to change for you and them), quotes or a plant omg i have such a cute witchcraft ritual for plants i’ll talk about it in upcoming blogs apart from this declutter anything that doesn’t serve your future self.

3. master your energy & presence

how you walk, talk, and present yourself affects how people see you—and more importantly, how you see yourself.

• posture & body language: stop slouching. walk with purpose. sit up straight. move gracefully. if your ideal self is a model then walk like a model. and even if not walk confidently be the boss

• speech: speak clearly, confidently, and with intention. no more mumbling or saying things like, “i don’t know…” you do know. how does you ideal self speak like? in a sexy sultry way? in a fun lighthearted way? what kinda vocabulary she uses? upgrade your vocabulary! and how many languages she knows? learn a new language!

• eye contact: look people in the eye. this instantly makes you feel more powerful. again how does she looks at people? siren eyes? doe eyes? bambi eyes? facial expressions etc i mean it every small detail

4. upgrade your style (within your means!)

dressing like your future self doesn’t mean spending thousands on a new wardrobe it means curating your style to align with who you’re becoming.

• invest in quality over quantity (even if that means just one or two staple pieces).

• start wearing colors, silhouettes, and accessories that match your dream self’s aesthetic. (do your colour analysis on chat gpt, understand what looks good on you)

• take care of your grooming healthy hair, clean nails, and glowing skin always elevate a look. go visit a dermatologist, dentist, gynaecologist etc (i’m serious, book an appointment with a dermatologist now 🔪)

5. make decisions like her

before you do anything, pause and ask:

“what would my future self do?”

would she say yes to this opportunity? would she hang out with these people? would she react emotionally, or would she handle it with grace? start thinking like her, and soon, you will be her.

this will turn you into your highest self and you wouldn’t even realise it when you’ll become her completely to the point you don’t even need to ask yourself “what will my future self do?” you will know exactly what to do

step 4: master manifestation

your highest version is literally you, you’re her she’s you. it’s all in you you’re the creator.

start making manifestations a part of your life not a chore. the life you’re living right now is literally the manifestation of all your thoughts, routine, actions etc manifestation is literally like breathing you’re doing it all the time your subconscious is working all the time

start by subliminal audios that helps you get to your goals and eft tapping mentioned in my glow up enhancing blog so go read it.

other things like

act as if? (i already told y’all this, embody her.)

visualisation

affirmation all the time

use crystals

use manifestation book

meditate

be positive all the time

become spiritual (or at the working of universe)

witchcraft (optional)

i will let y’all know more about this manifesting tips in my upcoming blogs too this one is getting too long

984 notes · View notes

pierregazly · 1 year ago

Text

so in love ꨄ charles leclerc

charles leclerc x f!reader

warnings: 18+ only, p in v - no protection, charles is in love, charles doesn't shut up when he's horny [1008 words]

request: 🌶 Could you write prompt 17 with Charles Leclerc, please [17. “What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?” “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to take a second to admire how beautiful you are.”]

The smell of sex wafted throughout the room. The fan running above your bodies did little to erase the sheen of sweat that had begun glittering across yours and Charles’ bodies. The sounds of skin against skin, grunts into the open air, it was intoxicating, it was all you could focus on.

Charles was insatiable. Had been since his win. All he could think about, all he wanted, was to feel himself pressed against you, inside of you. By all means, you were his favourite drug. He had practically begged you to let him bend you over in his driver’s room after the race. Then barely even gave you any time to recuperate once you were in his car, on the way back to the hotel.

His hands had only left you to drive, and even then, one was still running up your leg, dangerously close to where your own body was yearning for him, practically soaking through your clothes because of the teasing movements of his hands.

His body craved yours more than it craved anything. But his mind, his heart? They just simply craved you. The way you smiled up at him from below the podium, the way you were always the first person on his brain when he woke up, and the last thing he thought about before he went to sleep. He craved everything about you, everything about your relationship. You were all he wanted.

It’s what always made things so much more intimate with him. The way he loved you transcended into his every action. It didn’t matter if the night was supposed to be about him, Charles always found a way to turn it around to make it about you.

Just like tonight.

His nose was pressed into the junction between your neck and shoulder, leaving open-mouthed kisses to the bare skin. Soft moans fell from your lips when you felt his teeth scratch against the sensitive skin of your neck, an inevitable mark forming from his actions.

Charles’ hips rutted against yours gently, his hardened member stretching your wet heat deliciously. You could feel him mumbling into your neck, his warm breath coasting across your skin, prompting goosebumps to jump to the surface as a shiver wracked throughout your body.

“So fuckin’ perfect, f’me. So beautiful, merde. Takin’ me so well. God, so incredible. Wish we could stay like this forever,” he groaned.

He was practically delirious as he mumbled words into your neck, soft whimpers falling from your lips as he pressed his hips deeper into yours, hitting spots inside of you that had you crying out for him.

Pulling himself up and onto his elbows, his eyes locking on yours. Looking up at him questioningly as his lower body halted its ministrations.

“What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?”

Shaking his head at you, he used one arm to hold himself up as he ran a thumb down the side of your cheek, across your lips, down your neck. You couldn’t contain the goosebumps that continued to litter your skin from his actions.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to take a second to admire how beautiful you are.”

Your cheeks instantly heated, the adoration so evident in his eyes as he smiled softly down at you.

“Oh, Cha… hush,” you giggled, slapping at his shoulder. He leaned down to press his lips to yours, his hand now delicately holding your cheek.

Pulling away from you, he flopped over onto his back, tugging on your hand as he directed for you to climb on top of him. He loved watching you ride him, loved watching as you threw your head back in pleasure, or when you would grasp his thighs, your unrelenting grip always causing his hips to stutter in pleasure.

To put it simply, he loved just being able to look at you. Loved being able to make eye contact with you, being able to connect your fingers. Loved being able to see how much you loved him, in the most intimate form.

You did as he directed, climbing on top of him and sinking down on his cock. The stretch caused your eyes to close in pleasure, tipping your head back as a small sigh left your lips. Charles’ own sounds of pleasure mixed with yours, his hands instantly gripping onto your waist as he pulled you down harder.

“Fuckin’ love watching you ride me, merde,” he swore.

His thumb pressed against the hood of your clit, rubbing against the sensitive nub as you whimpered at his actions. The mixture of him rubbing your clit alongside the feeling of him stretching you out pushed you to move your hips faster, craving the feeling that was slowly beginning in the pit of your stomach.

You could feel the pleasure growing, Charles’ fingers never leaving your clit as he guided your hips with his unoccupied hand. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way your hips moved, the way your head was tipped back; revealing the darkened marks he had littered against your neck earlier in the night. A small smirk grew on his lips when he realized you were getting close, his own orgasm creeping up on him.

The sounds you were making increased, your hips stuttering against his.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty? Gonna soak my cock? Wanna cum with you, baby. Wanna fill up this pretty pussy,” he practically cooed his words, bucking his hips upwards so his cock hit the spot inside of you that had you crying out for him.

Your upper body snapped forward as your hands hit his shoulder. Charles’ own hips stuttered as he began to empty himself inside of you, continuing to rub his fingers against your clit, guiding you through your own moment of pleasure.

Slapping his hand away, you allowed your body to drop lightly onto his, attempting to regain your breath. Charles wrapped his now-free hands around your back, pressing his lips against your cheek in a soft kiss.

“Je t’aime, mon cœur,” he whispered.

“Je t’aime aussi, mon amour.”

i don't know what to say!!! but what i want to say isn't appropriate!!! hope y'all enjoy this

1K notes · View notes

cheriecoke · 1 year ago

Text

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ REASSURANCE — nanami kento

kento comforts you when you're feeling down

contents: gn!reader, insecurities, pet names, this was written in like 30 mins so idk, 700 words, sfw

“kento?” you asked, resting your hands on your lap. from the other side of the couch, he turned, smiling softly, placing his thumbs between the pages of the book to save his spot. your head was buried in the cushion, and you stared at him, blinking slowly. “you still love me, right?”

at first, he laughed, a small little sound that left his throat. then, when your face fell further, he cut himself off immediately, eyebrows drawing together tightly. “of course, i love you, sweetheart. i love you so much. why are you asking me?”

you shrugged, embarrassed, and looked away from him, at your hands locked together. “sometimes i just don’t know why. it makes more sense that you wouldn’t love me than that you do.”

a heavy frown drew on kento’s face, and inched closer, reaching out. “what do you mean? did i do something that made you feel unloved? if i did, honey, i’m sorry—”

which only served to make you feel worse, because, most things weren’t ever kento’s fault. he was so patient and caring, the sweetest man you’d ever known. and you weren’t sure that you deserved that kind of love at all.

“of course not, kento, you’re perfect.”

he smiled a bit, then, but that didn’t erase the concern in his eyes. “i’m certainly anything but perfect.” his fingertips ran along the back of your own, softly. “tell me what’s wrong, my love. i don’t like seeing you upset.”

you sniffed, willing the tears away as you looked past him once more, unable to meet his gentle eyes. “it’s stupid.”

“don’t say that. nothing you feel is ever stupid.”

and when a tear fell down your cheek at the kind words, you wiped it away before kento could see it, scrubbing violently at your skin.

“i’m fine, kento.”

“you’re not.” he paused, softened his voice. “it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. i won’t make you. but don’t keep it all bottled up just because you think you’re being silly. okay?”

you glanced over, blinked, stared at the way his smile was slightly tilted. the plumpness of his lips, the gentleness of his eyes. his soft, blond hair falling over his forehead, because it was sunday night, and he hadn’t bothered to style it.

how dearly you loved him. you’d rather die than live a life without him.

a sob broke loose from you, and you covered your face with your hands, sniffling. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”

kento said nothing, but drew you closer, pulling you onto his lap. tears fell down your cheeks, and though you didn’t want to look at him, he drew your lips to his own, the touch barely there, before he kissed across your cheeks, your forehead.

“why are you sorry?”

“i didn’t mean to cry. i’m being so dumb. and sensitive.”

“honey,” he sighed, stroking your cheeks, eyes almost pained from the sight of you so upset. “it’s okay. don’t apologize for crying. i love you. i love you, i love you.”

you breathed deeply, trying not to cry harder, hating how difficult it was for you to accept him irrevocable affections, sometimes. “but why? why would you choose me, kento? i don’t think i’m an easy person to love. i’m so… boring, and average, and you are amazing in every way.” you squeezed his hand, still resting on your cheeks, and leaned into it.

kento stared, forehead wrinkling, before he pushed you down to his chest, holding you close. a long inhale breathed deep into his body. “you aren’t any of those things, you know? you’re so lovable. you’re beautiful, caring, intelligent. anything but boring. anything but average.” he ran his fingers up the knots of your spine. “perhaps, i was put on this earth to prove you otherwise.”

you gave him a sad little smile. “you might be working on that for a while, ken.”

"that's okay." he laughed, soft, gently, enough to shake you against his chest before he kissed the top of your head. “that’s what love is, isn’t it? i'm not going to leave when things get tough.”

#kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#xoxo rylie 💌 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

1K notes · View notes

myownwholewildworld · 9 months ago

Text

uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer - part ii

part i | series masterlist | main masterlist

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: what? you really thought officer miller was done with you? 🙄 don't be so naive. he's going to make good use of that cell he's thrown you in.

a/n: am i a rabid dog who needs to be put down? yes i am. you'll find me taking a walk and touching some grass because oh boy 🥵 please enjoy part ii to police officer!joel. as always, all interactions are welcome! i'd love some feedback if you feel like sharing. yea, that's everything i gotta say, i'll go hide under a rock now. thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. a hella lot of unhealthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). object insertion (oopsie 🥴). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). strong sub/dom vibes. mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. reader talks to boyfriend while being drilled. unprotected piv. creampie. overall, rough, filthy sex. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~7.7k (someone put me down, seriously).

tagging some people who seemed interested in part 2 (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@cestlavieinrenaissance @ijustlovemensm @fartcloudfartcloud

Joel looked through the rearview mirror. You were sat on the middle seat of his cruiser, silent and with your gaze down. You almost looked like you regretted what had happened, but he knew you had actually enjoyed it. Your slutty moans and your squirting cunt spoke for yourself ― the proof of your ecstasy still staining his uniform’s trousers.

He adjusted the mirror, paying more attention to you than to the road. Luckily, it was well past midnight, so there were not many cars around. You had parted your legs, probably on purpose, and gifted him with the sight of your tight pussy. Joel wished the interior of the car was better lit, so he could have a good look at your cunt.

Ah, yes, he knew you wanted more. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be exposing yourself like that to him. His cock twitched at the memory of being clamped down on by your narrow pussy, deeply buried in between your puffy lips. Joel bit the inside of his cheek, focusing his eyes on the road ahead.

“Is my cum spilling out of your hole?”, he broke the silence.

You felt the guilt eating you up. You shouldn’t have pushed Officer Miller’s buttons like that. You blamed the last drops of alcohol running through your veins that had distorted your reality ― as soon as they disappeared from your system, you had realised that you didn’t want what was about to happen. However, your body had betrayed you, reacting to him and his provocations.

I’m not a cheater. I’m not a whore, you chanted, keeping the tears at bay.

But deep inside, you knew you were just lying to yourself. You blamed your body, but the reality was you did enjoy it ― all of it, everything he gave you, everything he took from you. You had never been so turned on in your life ― never squirted before, never had your pussy eaten so filthily from behind, never been used like that.

You pursed your lips, eyes down and still daydreaming about him fucking you senseless ― you unsuccessfully attempted to erase those hot flashes that your mind was trying to take you back to. Unconsciously, your legs had relaxed with your train of thought, and that was when you heard Officer Miller’s question.

You jumped in your seat and pressed your knees together, suddenly very conscious of your pussy. You could feel you had gotten wet again at the mere thought of him jackhammering into your cunt on top of the hood. Once more, you felt betrayed ― you didn’t want to feel like this, you didn’t want to be this horny for him.

You slowly nodded in reply, ashamed of yourself ― your unwelcomed slick dragging his cum out of you. But you wouldn’t tell him that, you wouldn’t let him know that your hole was crying for more.

“I― I think I’m making a mess of the upholstery. Sorry.”

Why did your voice sound so high-pitched, so moany? You needed to get a grip of yourself or you were going to end up impaled again. You kept your eyes down, avoiding his ― tears of frustration gathering on your waterlines.

“Only with my cum? Or are you gushing again, doll?”, he questioned with a husky voice.

You knew he was getting horny again ― your nipples reacted to that thought, wrinkling suddenly, your breathing accelerating.

You shyly looked up at him, your gazes meeting on the rearview mirror. His eyes pierced through you and you felt exposed ― there was no point in denying it, you knew he knew. So you nodded again with watery eyes.

“Yes, sorry”, you apologised, although you were not sure why.

“Yes what?”, he insisted, his attention dancing between the road and you.

“I’m― I’m gushing”, you replied in a very low whisper, so abashed a tear ran down your cheek.

Officer Miller didn’t say a word for the rest of the trip to the station, so you had more than enough time to dwell in your embarrassment.

Joel’s horniness was clouding his mind to a dangerous degree, so he summoned all his strength to drive the damn car instead of stopping in the middle of nowhere to fuck you again. After fifteen eternal minutes, he braked as he steered into the parking lot of the station. Then the cruiser came to a halt.

He had to cup his swollen bulge, kneading it a bit, in the hopes it wouldn’t be too noticeable. What a little minx you were, confessing your pussy was leaking all over the seat. You were acting all sheepish now, guilt-ridden, but Joel knew what you really wished for. And that was getting your cunt drilled again.

Walking out of the car, Joel got to the back door and opened it up for you. He extended his hand to help you out of the car, all gentlemanly. But when you grabbed it indecisively, he hauled you out of his Crown Vic. You gasped at his brutish manners, but quickly closed your mouth when your breasts pressed against his chest.

Joel hurried his hand down, riding up your skirt a bit, his fingertips caressing your inner thighs. You looked at him, a mix of surprise and shame, when he dipped his fingers in your silky slit. He moved them up and down a couple of times, buttering your fold with your discharge and his cum. You panted at his contact and your forehead leaned against his chest as if your neck was unable to support the weight of your head anymore.

You were so receptive to his touch, Joel had to control himself. If he could, he would turn you around, bend you over and fuck into your hole until dawn. But another patrol car entered the parking lot, stopping a few metres away. He scoffed in frustration, reluctantly removing his hand from in between your legs.

Stop, don’t, please stop, you wanted to tell him.

But the words never abandoned your mouth, stuck in the back of your throat. His fingers stroked you so intimately, so good, you couldn’t muster the strength to stop him. And, if you were completely honest with yourself, deep down you hoped he didn’t. When his digits traced your whole damp furrow, you tilted your head towards him ― your lips pressed against the pocket where he had kept your panties, in an attempt to mute the moan that wanted to slip out of your mouth.

And then he unburied his hand, leaving you spiralling down with lust. You whimpered, vexed. Your eyes were still half-lidded with desire, your mouth agape. Officer Miller took a step back, breaking all physical contact with you.

“You really are a harlot”, he muttered while the hand that had explored your pussy dipped in his pants, and you knew he was spreading your gush all over his cock. That should have disgusted you, and it did, but your pussy fluttered in response.

“Please don’t say that, and don’t do that again”, you were finally able to find your words.

He cocked a brow while taking out his hand of his trousers. You didn’t look down, although you wanted to. The thought of him wet with your tacky cum destroyed a few neurons in your brain.

“Your mouth says no, but your cunt says yes. And I believe your cunt more than I believe your mouth”, he announced, unbothered by your petition.

Then he rolled down your skirt, grabbed you by the elbow, and forced you to walk in front of him. But first Officer Miller got something out of the passenger’s seat ―your purse and the paperwork― before he pushed you towards the station with your hands still cuffed.

You pondered your options when the female officer on the counter greeted Officer Miller.

“Hey Joel, another drunken bird?”, she asked, her blue eyes ignoring you completely.

“Yeah, that’s a Saturday for ya”, he said boringly, his fingers still sinking in the flesh of your elbow while he handed her your license and insurance.

“I’ll book her in for you”, said the woman, looking down at the paperwork spread on her desk.

You wanted to say something, to ask her not to leave you alone with him, to tell her what had happened. But what were you going to say, really? That you actually enjoyed being fucked stupid on top of his cruiser’s hood? That you were still wet, the dampness in your fold begging to be licked again?

While still debating, you felt Officer Miller ―now you knew his name was Joel― staring at you. He probably suspected what you were thinking, it was like he could smell fear. You dropped your eyes to inspect your bare feet, silently letting him know that you wouldn’t say a word. If you had had a peek at him, you would have seen his sly grin.

“All the cells here are full, you’ll have to go to the adjacent building, I’m afraid.” You thought the female officer winked at him.

“That’s alright. Thank you, darlin’”, he smiled at her before pushing you in front of him. “C’mon, move.”

You shambled towards the backdoor, walked out and then Joel― Officer Miller opened the door to the secondary building. You entered with him on your heels. His body was so close to yours, you felt a pleasant tingling start on your neck that shot down your spine. You cockled your lips, disappointed in yourself.

The room was not too big, it only housed four cells, all of them empty. The only decoration was a wooden desk with a chair for a police officer to be stationed. There was also a small room at the end, which had a unisex bathroom sign on its door.

You didn’t like how isolated it felt in there ― you had hoped there would be someone else in there with you. To stop him, to stop yourself. You really were out of luck.

Officer Miller pushed you to the furthest cell in the room. “Stay”, he commanded while he uncuffed you, then grabbed the keys off a metal hook, unlocked the cell and opened the door for you. “Be my guest, doll”, his tone was so snide.

You simply obeyed with averted eyes. Maybe if you didn’t look at him, your pussy would stop palpitating. You could still feel his fingers buried in your tacky slit, your clit begging to be paid attention. He had left you so unsatisfied, your brain kept going back to the moment he ate your cunt from behind. You shuddered, conscious that you had to stop daydreaming about it.

“Now be a good slut and finish what I have started. I know your pussy is asking for it”, his voice rumbled under his breath, locking the cell behind you. Officer Miller dropped your purse on the table and unsheathed his gun to leave it there too. Slowly he turned and sat down on the chair, conveniently positioned in front of your cell.

You shook your head no with teary eyes. Teary not because you were afraid, but because you really wanted to ― frustration corroding your vaginal nerve endings. Your clit twitched as you sat down on the wooden bench, looking away from him.

“You’ll give in, sooner rather than later, I bet.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Officer Miller manspreading on the chair, a hand slipping under his belt. His gaze was transfixed on you while he touched himself. You turned your head towards the wall, your clit lit on fire at the mere thought of him jerking off in front of you.

You pressed your knees together, looking for some relief and finding none. You tried not to but ended up whimpering in frustration. Joel was right ― you gave in. Your eyes welled up with shame and lust as you discreetly hid your hands between your parted legs. You caressed your clit with your index and then traced the entirety of your fold, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

His groan made you look askance in his direction. Joel had freed his cock through the zipper of his uniform trousers and was pumping himself. The sight of his veiny cock made your mouth run dry. Then you noticed he had something tied around his veiny dick. You had to take a second look, this time with no furtiveness, to see what it was.

He had wrapped your wet panties around his manhood and was rubbing himself with it. You couldn’t contain your whoring moan any longer after that. The vision of him masturbating with your underwear almost strangling his cock sent you in a spiral of desire ― you were, once again, out of control.

Two fingers slipped in your dripping opening while your thumb stroked your clit, this time more intently. Leaning your head back against the brick wall, you closed your eyes, whimpering like a bitch in heat as your digits picked up a reckless pace between your legs. Your breathing intensified, coming in and out in short bursts. Your cunt was so drenched that every time you pushed your fingers inside of you, wet, sucking sounds quickly followed each thrust.

Lava was pooling in your overstimulated furrow, your whole sex so slick your fingers slid in and out easily. Then you felt it: the climbing to the climax and then the falling. You screamed, bending over yourself, as the orgasm hit you hard, very hard. You dropped to your knees on the floor while you felt your insides melting, your inner walls trying to squeeze something that wasn’t there. Your clit convulsed one last time, a moan tearing through your throat as you looked up, eyes closed, imploring to the heavens.

You had not noticed but Joel had stood up and was right in front of you, his dick poking in between the bars ― your panties still wrapped around the base of his cock. He was whacking off with a tight grip, his hips slanted forward. “Come over here, right now”, he emphasized.

His cock had you mesmerised, it was calling you. You wanted to suck him so badly, that you mewled as you crawled towards him.

Joel gritted his teeth at the scene. You moved towards him on all fours, panting and whimpering. You were such a hot mess his cock pulsated in his hand. When you were close to the bars, you straightened your back and sat on your heels, awaiting permission. Joel grinned at the sight ― he fucking knew you would cave in. Sliding a hand in the space between the bars, he placed it on the back of your head while resting his pelvis against the metal rods.

“Open wide”, he croaked with lechery, his mind somewhere far away.

His throbbing cock hurt like hell when you parted your lips and sticked your tongue out, your eyes still damp and your eyeliner running down your cheeks. Joel fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled it back, so your face was up. He spit in your mouth, deranged with lust, and then swiftly drove his dick down your mouth until your bottom lip was touching his hairy balls.

He held you there for an eternal minute, rejoicing in the wetness of your cavity while you simply choked on his cock. Tears sprung to your eyes at the intrusion, he was way too far down your throat. But did he care? No, he was just chasing his own release. Holding your head in place so you wouldn't go anywhere, he bobbed his waist back and forth, fucking your mouth as deep and fast as he could go.

You probably did it on purpose to drive him crazy, but your lips pressed around his girth as you tried to slurp all the fluids. You would gag from time to time, especially when he would force your head close to him, but you didn't turn away.

Joel looked down as he used your mouth as he pleased. Your eyes were all watery because of the deep intrusion, your lips rubbing against his skin, your palms against your knees as if you were all innocent.

Joel only tugged you back to free his dick when he felt your neck muscles contract, announcing you were close to throwing up.

God, how much he loved your mouth. The mouth of a whore.

You heaved, trying to catch a breath, fighting your gag reflex as much as you could. Your eyes met his. His pupils swirled with lust and that scared you.

Do I really want this?, you asked yourself again, unsure of the answer. You didn’t and did at the same time ― you couldn’t stop yourself. It was like you had lost your freewill and just turned into his plaything, letting him do with you as he deemed. You had succumbed to Officer Miller ― there was no point in fighting back, your own body was betraying you, getting wet in all the wrong places. Maybe if he finished quickly, he would let you be.

You looked up at him when he pushed you closer to his erection again. He was so ruthless ― with no care in the world, Joel dug his pulsing cock down your mouth again, the glans suffocating you once more and the fabric of your underwear tingling your nose. You unconsciously tried to clear your throat, suppressing a cough. Your bottom lip trembled because of how wide your jaw had stretched to house him. Your spit and his precum pooled in your mouth, dribbling down from your chin to your cleavage. You felt the trickle going down in between your boobs and wetting your top.

Joel grinned as he swept away a tear with his thumb.

“Now eat it like you mean it, like the slut you are”, he croaked.

Joel let go of your hair, both of his hands gripping the metal rods that separated you.

You pulled back to catch a breath and swallowed all the fluids that had accumulated in your mouth. Officer Miller was eyeing you expectantly, his dick twitching in front of you each time blood rushed through it. You broke visual contact to focus on his warm cock.

Without thinking, your fingers wrapped around his thick column and started pumping him while your tongue tapped the tip. His groan spurred you on, so you sucked on his glans like if you were a babe breastfeeding. From time to time, you would run your lips down his length, tracing the pulsating vein that fed his erection. By how his hips would sway every time you did that, you knew he loved it.

And so you repeated it, over and over again. Smother the tip, slide your lips down his cock, gently nibble and suck on his balls, and then back up ― your tongue sticking out while licking his shaft until you sealed his glans between your lips again.

Your body had a mind of its own, because your index found your clit again and caressed it softly. The core of your pleasure was heating up again ― your leaking entrance contracted suddenly when the lust reached a higher peak. You moaned with his dick in your mouth, eyes closed, as you fingered yourself unashamedly.

Then you felt it ― a hard pulsation in his cock, announcing he was close. Officer Miller tried to pull back so he wouldn’t come, but you were having none of it. You neglected your pulsing clit, threaded your arms between the bars and placed each hand on his butt cheeks. You forced him forward, pressing your palms against his ass, so he would be locked in place while your wanton mouth took him in as far down as you could.

You didn’t let him go and with a harsh, deep moan, Joel came in your mouth. His hot cum flowed in bursts and clogged your throat, almost asphyxiating you ― but you still didn’t let go. Your eyes were fixed on his, although he wasn’t looking ― Joel had closed his eyes to fully feel his orgasm, his hips still swaying back and forth in your mouth with the last wave of his release.

He fucking knew it. You were so hungry for him, you would even force an orgasm on him. His knuckles were all white due to the force he was using to grip the metal rods. His jaw was so clenched, he thought he might have chipped a tooth. When Joel regained control of his muscles again, he looked down at you and smirked.

“Aren’t you a little bitch, eh? You think because you’ve made me come a second time, I’m not gonna fuck that tight, tiny hole of yours? Well, you’re in for a treat”, he said matter-of-factly.

He just needed a bit of time to have an erection again. And, in the meantime, he was going to have fun with your body. A lot of fun.

Joel moved back his hips so his cock slid out of your mouth. In the process of doing so, a trickle of cum ran down the corner of your mouth. He quickly grabbed his shaft and with the tip, he gathered the cum off your skin and pushed it back between your lips. When you opened your mouth to collect his cum, he noticed you hadn’t swallowed.

“You gulp my cum down right now or else”, he demanded, inserting his dick in your mouth to help you keep it closed.

You tried to explain. “I’ve never don―”, you enunciated the words as you best could, your mouth still full with his spent and his cock.

He grunted, annoyed. “I don’t fucking care, don’t waste a drop of what I’ve given you. A good slut eats what is fed to her.”

Even though he was treating you like shit, your body got aroused at his words. Why? Stop, you begged to yourself, imploring for the gushing between your legs to disappear.

Joel glanced down at you with a cocked brow, awaiting. He wasn’t joking, he really meant it. So you swallowed ― twice, because there were still remnants of his sperm lingering in your mouth. You had never had anyone come in your mouth before ― let alone swallow it. It didn’t taste like you had expected it though ― it was warm and sweet, so smooth it just slid down your oesophagus without effort.

He literally had just used you like if you were his personal glory hole. You should feel ashamed of yourself ― and you did, very much so. But right now, your lust was greater than your shame. And the proof was on the floor between your knees: there was a small puddle, your fluids right there for him to see.

Oh, and he saw.

“Such a whore, you’re dripping like a broken pipe. Aren’t you embarrassed of yourself?”, he asked into the void.

You just whimpered, maddened with unspent passion. Your clit was still twitching, your opening palpitating. Had you not had enough embarrassment already? You had come five times, and you still needed more. Officer Miller was right ― you were a whore. You circled your clit, your eyes fixed on his, almost begging him to help you out.

“Don’t worry, doll, I ain’t done with you yet. Turn around”, he ordered you.

You blinked at him, unsure if he was to be trusted. A voice inside your head screamed at you not to, but you ignored it. You were so horny, you just wanted the fire within you to be extinguished.

You let a soft cry escape your lips as you obeyed his command ― you were on all your fours, your ass cheeks resting against the metal bars, your puffed-up pussy completely exposed to him. You heard him kneel behind you before cupping your whole cunt with the span of his palm, rubbing it delicately.

“Will you look at that? Obedient like a bitch in heat. With a red, swollen pussy, all ready for me to play with”, he laughed at you while you simply bleated, shaking your head yes at his words, uninhibited.

Joel suddenly slapped your cunt so hard, your arms failed you and ended up in a knee-chest position, your ass up in the air for him. “Ouch!”, you let go, your cheek resting against the concrete on the floor.

A cold, rubbery texture kissed your pussy lips and you lifted your head over your shoulder to see what it was. Joel was wielding the nightstick that was attached to his belt a second ago ― he lodged it between your damp flaps, moving it up and down to wet it with your discharge. You moaned, really moaned out loud, knowing what was about to happen.

With your forehead against the concrete floor, you closed your eyes with pure satisfaction when Joel started penetrating you with the baton. Your nails scratched the hard surface underneath, your very curated manicure ruined. Officer Miller pushed in a few more inches, your flesh parting to house the stick. And then, abruptly, you wailed in pain as the end of the nightstick kissed your cervix rather harshly.

You saw stars behind your eyes and tried to push away.

“No, doll, no. Stay put for me”, his free hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you in place.

You remained still for a minute, while you adjusted to such deep intrusion. The pain had been very intense, but it started wearing off as Joel spun the nightstick around in your hole. After a while, you finally relaxed and the cop resumed, pumping the baton in and out of you slowly. Then his hand drifted down from your lower back to your quivering clit and he kneaded the right spot expertly.

You whined, the pleasure so overwhelming it brought tears to your eyes again. You fluttered your eyelashes to clear your vision, your mouth open wide, your breathing irregular. Your womanly cave clutched onto the nightstick, all wet and sensitive. You could feel your heartbeat on your cunt, pulsating so hard it was maddening. His thumb pressed circles on your clit and you sobbed audibly, your orgasm so close you were on the verge of the precipice.

Then a phone went off, you were barely conscious of it ringing until Joel stopped what he was doing and stood up.

“No, please, please, Joel please”, you begged, almost crying, wanting to come so badly.

He left you there, on all your fours and with this baton sticking out of your weeping cunt, almost fully inserted.

“Ah, look, Sweetie is calling you. Bet he’s all worried about you”, he chuckled walking towards you, your cell phone on his hand. He had also taken something from your purse, but you couldn’t see what before he put it in his pocket. “Pick up and pretend you’re not having the best sex of your life.”

He put the phone on speaker and left it by your head. Your mind raced with panic, a very tight knot forming in your throat. This made it too real; you were really cheating on who you thought was the love of your life. And what was worst, you were cheating on him and enjoying it like the slut you were.

“Hey, honey? Are you okay?”, your boyfriend said.

“H―Hi, sweetie. Yeah, I’m fine”, you managed to reply with a steady voice.

Then Joel started jackhammering you with the baton relentlessly, so hard it forced you to close your eyes. Your moist pussy compressed so tightly around the rubbery stick, you had to cover your mouth to stop a moan from coming out.

“Where are you? I thought you’d be back like an hour ago”, he inquired, noticeably worried.

“I… I am in a nightclub, just walked out when I saw you calling”, you lied through your teeth. Joel cackled behind you while his thumb caressed your clit again, putting a sweet amount of pressure on it. “Ah, mhmmm… I should be back home in… uhmmmm… like an hour maybe?”, you bit your bottom lip, soft moans slipping out.

“You sure you’re okay? You sound weird, honey”, your boyfriend insisted.

Joel picked up a very fast pace with the baton, drilling you with it so hard the climax was fast approaching. Your whole body was rocked back and forth with the strength of his thrusts. Your clit melting at his suggestive touch.

“Yes, I drank a bit, mhmmmm… that’s all. I’ll get a taaaahmmh-xi back. Gotta go”, you talked fast, wanting to get the words out before you wailed. You managed to cover your mouth again just in time.

“Okay, take care, honey. I love you.”

At that point, the end of the baton kissed your cervix again but this time it pushed you over the edge. You had the biggest contraction of your life, your angry pussy trying to break the nightstick inside you. You came so hard, you squirted so much it almost looked like you had pissed yourself ― the puddle on the floor had grown considerably. Your eyes welled up, your creamy pussy fluttering, and your clit still writhing. You bit into your hand to suppress the loudest, sluttiest moan of your life.

“Honey?”, your boyfriend said, weirded out by the fact you hadn’t said it back as you always did.

Your orgasm was still washing over you. “Love you too”, you whispered, so guilt-ridden you wiped away some shameful tears from your cheeks.

Then he hung up.

“Oh wow, this is what love looks like to you? I almost feel sorry for the guy”, he made fun of you as he got up, the nightstick still inserted in your pussy. “Up”, he instructed you.

You had nothing to say, because you deserved his pun. There was no denying you were enjoying yourself a little bit too much. With a defeated sigh, tired of fighting your inner battle, you stood up with trembling knees. Your legs felt so wobbly you had to hold on to the bars.

Officer Miller dangled the keys in his hands before opening the door of the cell. For a second you thought that was it, he was done, even though he said he wasn’t a few minutes ago. But when he walked in front of you with his cock poking out the zipper of his uniformed pants, you knew he wasn’t.

Disappointment but also excitement came over you.

“Walk towards the bench. Get up on it on all your fours, doll.” He guided you to the farthest corner of the cell, where it was dark and hidden away in case someone interrupted.

It was like he knew all the blind spots. Had he done this before with someone else? A pang of jealousy tugged at your belly. You’re not the only one, you told yourself.

Completely surrendered to his desires ―and your own―, you followed his lead and did has he commanded. Once you were in the position he wanted you in, he walked to your side and nudged your cheek with the warm, tacky head of his cock.

“Give it a kiss, show me some gratitude”, he husked in a rumbling, raspy tone.

You turned your head ninety degrees and kissed the tip. He still had your panties wrapped around his erection. Licking your bottom lip, your eyes locked on his. A wide grin spread on his face. The motherfucker looked like a goddamn god when he smiled like that, dimples on his cheeks.

“Suck on it like if it was your personal pacifier, darlin’.”

Your tongue twirled around the plump tip as he finally took the baton out of your quivering pussy. You gasped at the emptiness you suddenly felt, his glans caressing your palate. Remembering your order, you quickly sealed your lips around the head of his cock and sucked on it, never breaking eye contact. The tip of your tongue tried to wiggle its way down his slit, slightly parting it and making him groan deeply.

You kept up the work with your smothering lips as one of Joel’s hands travelled down your back, briefly caressing one of your butt cheeks, to then cup your silky cunt. His fingers dipped in your welcoming slit, so velvety they slid up and down with no resistance whatsoever. He rubbed you softly while you worked diligently to make him hard again. One of his fingertips tempted you by getting lost in your needy hole, but he quickly removed it.

“C’mon, let’s get your wanton pussy ready again to ride some cock”, Officer Miller stepped back, his now hard cock slipping out of your mouth.

He walked around the bench and knelt behind you, your pulsing cunt perfectly lined up with his eye level. His mouth hovered over your ass cheek and then bit into your flesh ― his teeth marks were going to be there tomorrow, but that was not your main worry right now.

With no previous warning, he spread your cunt open and licked it from the clit to the perineum in one long, sweet stroke. You swooned at the feeling, half-lidded eyes and pursed lips. Moaning again, Officer Miller ate your pussy masterly while fisting himself, his tongue lingering in the right spots. He then taunted your clit while he fingered you slowly, his fingertip rubbing your g-spot.

Joel alternated his finger and the tip of his tongue to intrude in your opening. It felt delicious, his wetness mixing with yours. His hooked nose would get trapped in your slit when his mouth dropped to attend to your needy clit ― you heard him inhale your scent with no shame, dragging his nose in your silky fold as his mouth returned to your shaking entrance.

Officer Miller really knew how to eat pussy, so much so you would dream about his mouth feasting on your cunt every single night for the foreseeable future. Probably every single day too.

Your breaths quickened, fire melting your insides, your clit so sensitive you didn’t know if it was painful or delightful. You felt like you were about to ride the biggest wave of your life ― and then he stopped, standing up.

Frustrated sobs left your lips, almost mewling ― your pussy begging for release.

Your inner battle had been silent for a while, but came back with full force when you felt Joel’s cock lodged between your tumescent flaps, dousing himself with the product of your pleasure. He waved his hips against you, his dick skidding through your gushing furrow with ease.

He was going to fuck you again.

You tensed up, but you should have known this was coming. You didn’t want to cheat on your boyfriend again. Cheat for real, that was. Penetration was where you had marked the invisible line in your mind between cheating and just messing around.

Touching yourself while thinking of Joel’s cock? Not cheating.

Sucking his dick like a thirsty, panting dog? Not cheating.

Letting him fuck you with his nightstick? Not cheating.

Talking to your boyfriend while another man made you come? Not cheating.

Getting your pussy blissfully eaten from behind? Not cheating.

Him fucking you senseless with his cock? Definitely cheating.

You knew it sounded stupid, but your mind was really making an effort to make you feel a bit less guilty about what was happening.

You did not want this. Yes, you had messed around with him at first, but once your bravado abandoned you, you realised you did not want this.

Right? Right? Or at least you tried to convince yourself of it.

“No, wait”, you whispered when the tip of his throbbing cock kissed your dripping entrance.

Joel slid his drumming cock between your soaked folds, wetting himself. His mind spiralling down with desire, with lust. He took a moment to revel in the feeling of having his dick sweetly sheathed by your sodden lips.

Then he lined up the head of his thrumming dick with your drenched opening. When he heard your infuriating petition, he just cocked a brow. No, you were not going to deny him that, not after all the effort he had put into making you come over and over again. Your denial angered him.

“What a selfish slut you are”, he muttered furiously between gritted teeth before impaling you in one deep thrust ― his hips entirely flush against your pussy, his cock buried as far as it could go.

You moaned like the bitch you were and rolled your hips back into him, your trembling cunt hugging his cock.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought”, he murmured, still mad at you.

How fucking dared you tell him no? You were such an ungrateful bitch. He wasn't going to take no for an answer, not when you had been enticing him all night.

Joel spanked your ass hard, and you whimpered ― the palm of his hand leaving a red imprint on your skin. “You’re a whore. Say it out loud.”

“I am a whore, I am. I’m such a slut for you, Officer”, you wailed, bouncing your hips back and forth while he stayed still, fucking yourself with his dick.

Your neediness mildly soothed his anger, but not enough.

He slapped your ass again before grasping your hips to keep you in place, then Joel started fucking you as hard and as fast as he could, rutting into your tight hole mercilessly. His mind was just blank as the orgasm started to build within him ― the muscles in his lower tummy tensing, his balls contracting, his cock pulsating to the rhythm of his heartbeat. This was heaven, your pussy was.

He kept drilling you relentlessly, your whines growing louder and deeper, meeting his thrusts by pushing back your hips into him. The pace was so diabolical, your back arched, almost resting against his chest in a half-standing position. His broad hands left your waist and travelled up to hold your boobs while he perforated you, the carnal sound of flesh colliding against flesh filling the room.

Joel suddenly stopped, sliding out, and you whimpered, not wanting to be left unsatisfied again. You didn’t see what he was doing until he stuffed your mouth with your panties and covered your mouth with his hand, inserting his dick back into you unceremoniously.

“Don’t scream so loud or they are going to hear you. And I don’t want you to get me into trouble, understand?”, he threatened, resuming the plunging of his throbbing cock into your wanton cunt.

You just nodded, biting down on your underwear, while he fucked you stupid. So hard, so fast, so filthy, you couldn’t take it anymore. Your muffled moans announced your next climax, your pussy clamping down on his pulsating cock.

You both came undone at the same time, his hand still over your lips as Joel’s warm spent filled you up for the second time tonight. It came out of him in waves, both of your sexes beating in harmony.

Sweaty and tired, Joel let go of your mouth to move his hand down to slap your clit harshly. You whimpered, your clit so oversensitive it twitched one last time, making you come again. You bent over, resting your weight on your hands, as Officer Miller remained inside you for a few minutes, you cockwarming him with no complaints.

Suddenly hearing the ripping of plastic, you looked over your shoulder to see how he opened the packaging of a tampon with his teeth. And then, before you could think, he took his soft erection out of you and immediately inserted the tampon in your leaking hole, using it as if it was a vaginal plug to contain his semen inside you.

“Do not even think about taking it out until at least tomorrow. Understood?”, you nodded frantically, feeling slightly humiliated, but you didn’t say a word.

Joel pulled down your skirt and then placed the palm of his hand in front of your mouth. You spit your messy panties on his palm and he put them back in his pocket. You didn't bother asking for them this time, you knew he wouldn't give them back. And, weirdly enough, you wanted him to keep them.

You sat down on the bench with him standing in front of you. You looked up at him, your eyeliner all smeared on your cheeks. Your lips were swollen of eating so much dick.

“I think you’ve learnt your lesson now, right, doll?”, he asked with a smile, sweeping away the tears on one of your cheeks with his thumb. The gesture was almost sweet and caring.

You nodded again, wholly submitted to him. “Yes, Officer.”

“Good girl. Now go clean yourself up in that bathroom over there. I’ll take you home so your poor little boyfriend doesn’t worry about you”, he chuckled as you got up and hid in the small restroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You definitely had gotten more than what you had bargained for. But as much as you wanted to blame Officer Miller for everything that happened tonight, you knew you had been asking for it. With a heavy sigh and out of tears, you washed your face, your thighs and your sensitive pussy.

Once you walked out of the toilet, all semi-decent again, you saw Joel leaning against the wooden table, arms crossed at his chest. When you approached, he got up. His frame was so broad with square shoulders, his biceps flexing in that uniform, you kind of understood yourself for giving in to temptation. He was something else. Maybe it was the uniform, maybe not, but there was something about him that made your pussy melt for him.

Forgetting him and this night was going to be a herculean task. Would your boyfriend ever live up to him? Even to a shadow of what Joel had given you?

You halted in front of him. As if you were his, he dropped a hand in between your legs, his fingertips looking for your now clean hole. You separated your legs slightly to give him access without remonstrance.

He smiled at you sufficiently when he noticed the tampon was still in you, just as he had commanded.

“Good girl”, he muttered, gently caressing your clit as a reward for your good behaviour.

Against all odds, you smiled back at him, swooning at his praise.

You did the journey back home on the passenger’s seat of Joel’s Crown Vic. From time to time he would check the tampon was still in its rightful place, stroking your clit in the process. Had your hole been unplugged, you would have leaked on the upholstery again.

You both remained silent ― your mind racing with thoughts, trying to come to terms with what you had done.

What were you going to do? Were you going to confess to your boyfriend? Would you keep it a secret? Joel had fucked you so good, you thought you would never enjoy sex with anyone else.

Damn, your mind was a tangled mess. But you blamed it on his tentative finger, still stroking your clit.

The cruiser stopped and you looked at the building in front of you. You had arrived at your destination. Joel removed the hand from your fold and you sighed, gripping the handle.

But before you opened the door, you looked at Officer Miller.

“Will I ever…?”, you didn’t finish your question because he was eyeing you with amusement, his pupils flickering with fun.

“G’night, doll.”

Had you just been rejected? It felt like it, because it stung real bad. You pressed your lips together and, without another word, you exited the car and ran to the safety of your flat.

You entered as silently as you could. You got to the restroom and changed your clothes ―or what remained of them― for your pyjama, throwing everything in the washer. Tiptoeing towards the bed, you saw your boyfriend sleeping on his side.

Guilt and embarrassment ate at you, but you kept them at bay. You were tired, only wanting to go to bed ― tomorrow would be a new day. Pushing those thoughts away, you slid under the bedsheets and stayed on your side of the bed.

A minute later, your boyfriend turned around and hugged your waist, spooning you.

“Hi, honey. Did you have fun tonight?”

His question stabbed at your heart.

“Yeah, it was good seeing the girls.”

You wouldn't believe how much fun I actually had, you thought out of nowhere.

“Mhmmm, good, good…”, one of his hands wrapped around your waist and coincidently rested on your lower belly.

You had felt his swollen groin against your butt but decided to ignore it because you were completely spent. Joel had taken all the orgasms you could have today ― you had nothing left to give.

But your boyfriend didn’t know that, so he dipped a hand under your pyjama’s shorts, looking for your slit. Then he found the tampon string and grunted.

“You’ve got your period?”, he asked, disappointed.

You hadn’t really forgotten to take it out. Weirdly enough, you still felt compelled to follow Officer Miller’s demands. You were going to leave it there till tomorrow's afternoon, his cum warming you up. You didn't want to let go of the memory, not just yet.

“Yeah, it came earlier, sorry, sweetie.” You lied ― and felt really bad for it.

He sighed heavily, disheartened, and removed his hand from in between your legs. “It's okay, good night, honey.” He kissed your neck.

You were ever so slightly disappointed in him ― you were sure a bit of blood would have not stopped Joel from fucking you.

Ah, comparison was really the thief of joy.

“Good night”, you whispered back, fully conscious of Joel’s cum sitting snugly inside your pussy.

506 notes · View notes

traveler-at-heart · 2 months ago

Text

Doctor's In - Chapter 18

Summary: You have fun at Carol's bridal shower.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

A/N: This is short, but maybe next chapter will close out this "arch" of the story :)

Pietro is definitely enjoying his own space. Barnes has long shifts which means he has the apartment all for himself most of the times, and even when his roommate is around, he mostly keeps to himself.

Still, there are some stuff left at his sister’s house and he thinks nothing of it as he lets himself in, approaching what was once his room.

The sound of voices stops him dead in his tracks.

“To the left, yeah, there. That’s it” you say, out of breath.

“You sure? It feels kind of tight”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to, baby. Now harder. Exactly, just like that”

Pietro wants to throw up or erase his memory to forget he even heard you two. But before he can exit the house, you’re opening the door.

“Hey, man. You scared me. We didn’t hear you come in” you say, too casual for his liking.

“Yeah, I could tell”

“What do you mean by that?” Wanda comes out of the room, carrying some tools and a couple of wooden panels.

Well, that’s a relief.

“You fixing something?” he changes the subject, saving himself the trouble of explaining he thought you were busy having sex.

“Yeah, some stuff Wanda built and others she tried to repair. I’m done with the fence, gotta check the deck and then I’ll do the new shelves before I call it a day. I’m tired” you say, coming back with a glass of water for Wanda.

“The shelves are fine” she says and you snort. “Why are you laughing?”

Her sudden anger makes you pale and Pietro slowly walks to his former room to get his stuff and flee out of there. By the time he’s done you’re arguing.

“Babe, come on! Look at this. They’re lose, if you place anything there it will fall. Probably take a piece of the wall with it”

“They are perfectly fine” Wanda insists.

“Oh, so if I were to put this very valuable and fragile Tiffany lamp, it wouldn’t fall off? Is that what you’re saying?” you challenge her, grabbing the lamp and inching closer to the shelf. Wanda crosses her arms, glaring.

“If you break that lamp…”

“Well, it’s not gonna happen, because the shelves are fine. Right?” you say, finally placing it there. A second later the panel tilts and you catch the lamp before it reaches the floor. “Ha! Told you”

“You are such an ass! I’m going to take the kids with Clint and Laura and I hope that by the time I’m back you’re ready to apologize!”

“Right after you!” you say, grabbing the drill.

“I am…” Wanda begins to say, but you make noise with the drill to interrupt her. “I am not…” she huffs as you keep doing it. “I am NOT APOLOGIZING!”

“FINE” you shout over the noise.

Pietro regrets not recording this because it’s hilarious, but then Wanda turns her attention to him.

“Why are you still standing here? Don’t you have stuff to do? When are you getting a job?”

“Wow, slow down, mom” he tries to joke, but his sister tilts her head and he knows he’ll get cooked. “You’re right, I better go find a job. Bye”

Wanda leaves and you relax a little bit. She’s trying to help you repair the things inside the house and while you appreciate it, it’s a little overwhelming. You’re used to working alone, and you have to slow down as you explain some things to her.

Honestly, why would she even want to know how to do it? You’re always around to fix things. The timing of your fight sucks too, considering the twins are having a sleepover and Pietro’s on his own place now.

Looks like the only screaming you’ll have today will be from arguing. And to be fair, you could roll over on your back and apologize but you don’t feel like it. You were both too stubborn.

So, you keep working and by the time you’re done, you hop in the shower and then stay in bed, snoozing.

Wanda comes home to a quiet house and for a moment she thinks you might be out walking to clear your head. But then she goes upstairs and finds you fast asleep, wearing a tank top and briefs.

She regrets being so hot headed and ruining the night, but she also knows you well enough to guess you’ll be pouting unless Wanda takes extraordinary measures to make it up to you.

So, she goes to the bathroom and jumps in the shower. The sound of running water wakes you up and when Wanda’s done, she notices you’re finally up.

“Hey. Wanna order thai food?”

“Fine” you answer, grabbing your phone and paying attention to anything but her.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to be moody, detka” she says, and you frown.

“I’m not the one who started it, Wanda. You were very dismissive, when I was just trying to help out”

“Well, I just felt like you were being condescending”

“Come on, you know I wasn’t. If you want my help at least don’t be mad when I do what you ask…”

The bathroom door opens and you turn as you talk, but your words get stuck as Wanda walks out, wearing a pink babydoll and nothing else.

“When I ask you…? You were saying” she says innocently, walking towards you.

“Yeah. When you ask me to do you. I mean to help you” you shake your head, eyes not leaving her figure.

“Mmm, you’re right” she admits, and you gasp as she climbs to your lap, holding on to your shoulders.

“I am?” you ask like an idiot.

“Yes, baby. You help me out so much, and I was a little bratty. I should be a good girl for you”

“Wanda” you sigh when she kisses the spot behind your ear, her hands going down to your arms.

“Yes?”

“I… forgot what I was going to say”

“Then stop talking” she says against your lips, kissing you a second later. You moan against her mouth, hands flying to cup her ass.

“Nu-uh. Sit back” she says, taking out a small piece of rope to tie you up.

“Babe, come on” you whine.

“I thought you liked to be tied up”

��I do but not now. I wanna touch you”

“Too bad. Hands over your head”

You scoff and whine but she’s not giving in, so with a final sigh, you do as she asks and lift your hands over your head. Wanda climbs over your lap to tie them to the headboard, her breasts right at eye level. She yelps when you sink your head in her cleavage, nibbling at the exposed skin.

“I said no touching”

“Not touching. Biting”

“Cheeky” she reprimands, but her expression softens a second later. “They’re not too tight?”

“I’m good” you shake your head, eager to see what she’ll do next.

Whatever it is, you know Wanda’s ready to tease you when she has that predatory smrik on her face.

She kneels in the bed, lowering her underwear until you can see her exposed cunt, a wet stain on the fabric. Wanda throws them your way, and your mouth waters when you see her sliding one finger inside, moaning.

“Are you tight?” you ask, breathing heavy when she moans, adding a second finger.

“And wet. I wish it was your cock, baby”

“Untie me, come on. I’ll fill you up real nice, Wanda” you push against the rope, but she just laughs, taking her fingers out and licking them clean, her tongue swirling slowly.

“What do you want to do to me?” she asks, straddling your leg so her center rubs off against it.

“So much. Spank you, mark you, fuck you until you can’t walk”

“Sounds good. But for now, this will have to do” she smiles, rubbing herself against your leg. You moan at the feeling of her arousal smearing against you, and struggle to break free so you can touch her. “You’re making me feel so good”

“Imagine if you’d untie me. I could…”

“Oh, shush” she rolls her eyes, picking up her underwear and stuffing it in your mouth. “You’re distracting me”

“Mmffp” you mumble against the fabric.

“Come on, be a good girl and let me use you, honey. Then you’ll get what you want” she promises, increasing the speed of her movements until she’s breathing heavily, her tits bouncing up and down with the strenght of her thrusts.

You can’t even get some friction between your legs, Wanda holding on to your hips to keep you in place. So, all you can do is admire the way Wanda mewls and moans as her orgasm approaches. After a second, she digs her nails in the inside of your thigh, making you squirm. The movement sends her over the edge, and Wanda comes with a strangled cry.

“So good for me” she says, leaning against your chest.

You push the underwear out of your mouth, eager to make her come again.

“Can I touch now?”

“In a minute” Wanda says after looking you up and down. “I think I want to ride your face first”

The night just got ten times better.

—

Maybe it’s because you got used to running around in Boston, but now that you’re back in Westview, the workload always seems managable. Even now with five people and a surgery, you’re dealing just fine with the stress.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” Darcy says as you examine a kid, waiting for Kamala to come back with his X-rays.

“Did you try here? In the ER? Where I’m always working. Sorry, buddy” you add when the kid complains.

“You know I don’t come to enemy territory. Barnes…”

“First of all, he is not here today. Second, this feud is one-sided. I promise you he doesn’t have any issues with you” you say, greeting Kamala when she hands over the X-rays. “Fracture. We’re gonna have to put a cast on your ankle. Sorry, kiddo”

“That’s fine, I’ll get lots of ice cream and play videogames”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit. Kamala, can you get everything ready? We’re just waiting for his father to come back with the insurance info”

“Right away”

“Anyways, I was looking for you because I wanted to check if you made the reservation at the stri…”

You clear your throat, nodding towards the kid.

“At the movies” Darcy corrects herself in time. “And if you’re gonna have an issue with the missus”

“Why would I?” you cross your arms. Wanda knows about the plan.

“Well, she’s known to be the jealous type. And we’re all going to a place full of… candy” Darcy smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Kamala joins you, getting everything ready for the cast as the kid’s father has some questions.

“It’s going to be fine” you say, walking out of the ER, Darcy right behind you. “I think a lot has changed since we took a break. Plus I’m making it up to her with fancy dinner”

“Oh, are you finally proposing?” Darcy jokes but you hit your knee against a stretcher, groaning in pain. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you miss the part where I almost fell on my face?”

“No, I mean why did you get all freaked out when I mentioned the engagement. You have a ring, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but last time…” you sigh, looking away. You stop walking, leaning against the wall, and Darcy eyes you up and down. “I thought I had it all figured out, you know? Thought we were doing good and then everything blew up in my face. I don’t think I’m ready for that. And there’s the whole Sokovia thing… maybe I should tell her that part over dinner first”

“You haven’t told her? She’s gonna kick your ass if you don’t do it fast. It’s three months away”

“Yeah, yeah. Now, shush. She’s waiting by the front desk” you nod towards Wanda, who stopped by on her way back from school.

“Hey, detka. Hey, Darcy” Wanda greets, kissing your cheek. You pull her by the waist until she’s completely attached to your side. Wanda loves how needy and touch starved you are.

“We were just talking about Carol and Maria’s bachelorette party and how you don’t need to tell me to behave”

“Of course I don’t”

“Because you trust me”

“Because I’m coming with you” she says at the same time you speak.

“You… what?” you turn to look at her, confused, ignoring Darcy’s laughter.

“Carol invited me. We had fun that time at the club, didn’t we? I thought it might be good to leave the house, seeing as all we do lately is have sex…”

“That’s my cute to go” Darcy groans, walking away.

Wanda turns to look at her, laughing.

“If you don’t want me to go…”

“Wanda, I’d love for you to join us. It’s gonna be fun… but just to be clear, it’s not because you don’t trust me, right?”

“No, dear. I trust you” Wanda looks over your shoulder, as some of the nurses stare at you, clearly admiring your muscles. “I just don’t trust other women to keep it in their pants”

Before you know it, she’s pulling you in for a rough kiss. You gasp in surprise, but craddle her face in your hands a second later, smiling when she laughs against your lips.

“What are you doing? I need to get groceries” she says when you pull her to an empty on call room.

“Come on, it will only take five minutes”

“Five?” she says, unimpressed.

“Fine. How about fifteen?”

“That’s more like it”

—

There’s a certain excitement at getting ready for a party with your friends. You’re all so consumed by work that hanging out is a rarity.

Beyond that, Wanda joining you is ten times better, so by the time you’re ready and waiting for her at the living room, you’re buzzing with anticipation.

She finally goes downstairs, and you’re too busy admiring how good she looks in black pants, and a velvet corset top that pushes her breasts up.

“Stunning doesn’t begin to cover it” you say, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“Thanks, detka. Come on, we should get going”

The plan is to get something to eat first and then go to the club. Easy, no complications.

“Drop her off at a decent hour” Ekaterina asks you as if you don’t live in the same house as Wanda.

“Yes, Miss Max… Mom” you say, rubbing the back of your neck.

Pietro is out with the twins and Ekaterina will stay with them until you come back, which of course won’t be too late as everyone has to work in the next 24 hours.

“You ok?” Wanda says as you drive to the bar, sitting quietly. You’re still thinking about what Darcy said, and you know you’re also avoiding the conversation with Wanda, fearing it will lead to an argument.

“Yeah. Just hoping everything goes well. By the way, would you maybe want to have dinner tomorrow? We could try that new place you found the other day”

“Of course, detka. Is that why you were so scared? You just wanted to ask me out?” she jokes, reaching to place her hand on the back of your head as you drive.

“Real funny” you comment, smiling at her.

By the time you walk in the pub, Darcy is all over your face.

“You’re late”

“It’s 8:06, pesky minion” you say, looking around the room. Carol and Maria are playing pool, while Kate and Kamala take some pictures.

“Yeah, we said 8 o’clock. We have a tight schedule, but don’t worry. I knew you’d both be late, probably being horny and…”

“Ok! Your point?” you interrupt her, Wanda laughing next to you.

“I took that into consideration, but here. Have a look” Darcy says, handing over her phone.

“Why is there a 15 minute break called bar fight?” you say.

“In case Wanda wants to smack the living lights out of anyone trying to make a move on you. I know you, Maximoff”

“I do appreciate the consideration” Wanda nods and you look at her, hoping it’s just a joke. You have to bring her back home in one piece or Ekaterina will probably kill you.

Once you promise Darcy you’ll stick to her annoying itinerary, you find a table and order some food. Wanda walks up to talk to Kate and Kamala, and Darcy sits next to you at the booth, nudging your side.

“What now?“

“Did you tell her already?”

“No, I didn’t want to ruin the mood. I’ll take her out to dinner tomorrow”

“Ok, when I get super drunk make sure I’m not around Wanda or I’ll tell her everything”

“Who can forget you’re infamous word vomit?” you sigh, remembering that time Darcy was so wasted she asked two girls you were seeing at the same time if they had siblings since “you don’t have a problem sharing”.

“Better that than actual vomit”

Everyone’s having a great time, joking and talking about life. Sometimes the conversation drifts back to work but you make sure Wanda has context on everything so she doesn’t get lost.

“So, Ass Man…”

“Doctor Charles” you turn to Wanda when Darcy’s telling a story.

“And Booty Call”

“His mistress” you say, sighing. Darcy and her complicated nicknames.

“Wait, hold on. Do I have a nickname?” Wanda asks, smiling. Everyone looks away and then she turns to you.

“Not that I’m aware of” you admit, though no one would tell you either way.

“You’re all cowards” Darcy says when the group refuses to answer. “Everyone calls you Maximilf”

You choke on your beer, Wanda laughing as you try to breathe.

“Do you think it’s fitting?” she says when everyone else focuses back on Darcy’s story.

“I mean, I definitely want to fuck you”

“Alright, you have three five minute breaks to flirt or combine them to do something nasty” Darcy says when she catches what’s happening. “And right now, it’s time to go to the club”

The brunette leads the group outside, where a minivan is parked.

“Designated driver” she hands the keys over and you accept them with a roll of your eyes.

“I could be the designated driver, Doctor Y/L/N. I hardly drink” Kamala offers and you smile.

“How about when we’re out of the club, kid?”

Everyone gets in, Wanda in the passenger seat with you. Kate is in charge of the music, and you have to hand it to her, it’s a really good playlist.

“Don’t go breaking my heart” you sing to Wanda.

“I couldn’t if I tried” Wanda answers, singing Kiki Dee’s part.

“Out! Out of this madhouse, please!” Darcy shrieks from the last seat.

Luckily for her, you’re at the strip club in less than ten minutes.

Carol and Maria are wearing their matching “Bride to Be” t-shirts, Kamala and Kate close behind.

“Right on schedule?” you ask Darcy, and she nods, extending her hand. You think she wants a high five and you do that but she glares.

“No, you idiot. Give me the keys. I don’t trust you to keep them safe”

“Fine. Let’s go, babe” you put your arm around Wanda, going inside.

The music is loud, but right now there’s only people talking and drinking. A hostess leads you to a booth that’s right in front of the stage and you sit, looking around.

“This is really nice” Maria comments.

“Everyone say thank you, Darcy, for finding this awesome place and making the booth reservation” you say, raising your shot glass as the waitress places the tray on the table.

“Thank you, Darcy!” everyone says, downing their shots. Kamala is the only one that doesn’t drink, but Darcy is quick to take the shot she left.

You have a couple of rounds of shots, talking and laughing. Kamala asked for a mocktail, but she’s laughing so loud that you have to approach her.

“Hey, K. What did you get?”

“Long Island iced tea, Ma’am” she mock salutes you. “They’re so good! Here’s another one”

The waitress is already handing over a new one and Kamala drinks half of the glass before you can stop her.

“Kamala, that has like three different types of alcohol”

“Nooooo way, really?” she practically shouts, looking around. She waves at one of the show girls, and points to her ears. “Oh my god, your earrings are so cute”

You sigh, walking to the bar to get her a soda and some water, since it’s very clear she can’t hold her alcohol.

“Hi, there” a woman greets you. She’s wearing a robe over her gold lingerie set that leaves very little to the imagination.

“Oh, hello. How do you do?” you say, smiling as you get the water and the soda, leaving a tip for the bartender.

“You here with someone?”

“Yeah, the bridal shower over there” you nod your head towards your group.

“Congratulations”

“Not mine, no. My friends” you clarify, and as you turn to look back at your group you see Kamala drinking another cocktail. “Excuse me, I have to make sure the one that looks like a kid doesn’t get wasted”

“Well, I’m next… hope you like my act” she bites her lip and you nod dumbly, blushing. You’re so worried about Kamala that you don’t notice the way Wanda follows the interaction.

“Come on, kiddo, drink this” you say, asking Kate to keep an eye out for her. When you return to your seat, Wanda climbs on your lap. Maria whistles and you blush, smiling weakly.

“Hey, baby. Did you have a couple of drinks too?” you smile, hands resting on her hips.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh?”

“That girl at the bar. She seemed really interested in you” Wanda says with a knowing smile, making you gulp.

“I didn’t catch her name. Didn’t ask, I mean”

Just as she’s about to argue, the lights dim, and there’s a focus on the stage as the woman walks to the pole, dropping her black robe.

“Please welcome Sadie!”

There’s a chorus of applause and whistles as the woman dances around, but Wanda stays on your lap, giving you enough room to look back to the stage if you want to.

So she’s testing you.

“Cat got your tongue?” she whispers against your lips. You shake your head no, hands going to her lower back and you really want to touch her ass but all your friends are here and you’ll never hear the end of it.

A couple of screams make you turn briefly to the stage, and you notice the woman -Sadie- has taken her top off, throwing it close to where you are.

“Are her tits pretty?”

“I didn’t…”

“Didn’t look?” she asks and you nod, sighing when she sneaks her hand under your shirt, raking her nails across your abdomen. “Goog girl”

“Wanda” you stop her hand when it travels to undo the button of your pants. “Not here”

“Why not? Is Sadie gonna get jealous?”

“Come on, bunny, you are not playing fair” you try to hold back a moan when she dips her hand in your pants, and you feel how close she is to your center. Wanda bites down your neck, soothing the sting with her tongue a second later.

“I guess you’re right” she whispers and you almost don’t catch her words, until she goes back to sitting next to you, the lights going back on as the woman leaves the stage.

“Hey, perv, button up your pants” Darcy screams and everyone turns to look at you.

“Wanda!” you complain while your girlfriend laughs.

There’s not a lot of teasing as the next act comes on stage. It’s a fabulous drag queen that calls herself Fanny Longbottom. She's holding a mic, approaching your group.

“I hear we have a couple of brides to be this evening. What are your names, darling?”

“I’m Carol and this is Maria”

“Love that. How long have you been together for?”

“Six years now”

Fanny gasps dramatically, looking at the rest of the audience.

“That’s like 20 in lesbian years! Congrats on finally tying the knot, you two. Any more couples on your little entourage”

You’re shaking your head no, hating when the attention is drawn to you, but Carol is quick to point your way.

“My, oh my” the woman saunters your way, noticing how flushed your face is. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No, we were just…”

“Honey, we don’t need the deets” she says and everyone laughs. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N and this is my girlfriend Wanda” you say, hoping this can be over soon.

“How long have you been together?”

“Well, I mean, ten months and then we broke up for a bit but now we’re back together” you ramble.

“She’s lovely. And great with my kids” Wanda steps in, sensing how nervous you are.

“Kids! Ten months and they already have kids” the woman screams. “You should take a page out of these two. Look at them practically married after a few months. But, let’s see who has the best moves, what do you say?”

“Wait, what?” you shout. Two chairs are placed on the stage, and you shake your head hoping this isn’t what you think it is.

Wanda drags you to the stage, smiling.

“How bad can it be?”

You wish she hadn’t asked that question, because it turns out this is a lap dance-off and you’re forced to sit as everyone cheers.

“Relax, darling, pretend it’s just the two of us” Wanda says and you’re midly turned on and very curious about why she’s not shy or self conscious.

The music begins and you see Wanda sink to her knees between your parted legs. As she stands up, her hands slide up your thighs and then she’s sitting on your lap, her breasts right in your face.

“Don’t be shy” Wanda says against your lips, taking you by the wrists and placing your hands on her ass. There’s more whistles and you’re vaguely aware that Wanda’s grinding her ass against your front, her hands over her head as she dances to the music.

“Alright” Fanny says, applauding as the music fades. “They put on quite a show”

You practically take a shot from the waitress that’s walking by, trying to calm your racing heart while everyone claps for Maria and Wanda.

“That was so awesome” Kate says, but you’re only aware of Wanda close behind you.

Stopping suddenly, you turn to look at her and she’s pleased at noticing your blown pupils and heaving chest.

“Bathroom or car. Choose”

“Car. I’ll just go to the bathroom first”

“Fine” you nod, turning to Darcy. “Give me the car keys”

“No, it’s a rental and you’re gonna destroy one of the seats or some weird shit”

“Lewis, keys. Now!”

“Keep it in your pants, god damn it!” she curses, running around the bar.

“Why are you so fast when your legs are so short?” you complain. You’re about to catch her when your attention shifts to Wanda, who is trying to walk past a man.

“How much do you charge for a dance?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on, it didn’t look like it was your first”

“Darcy, change of plans! Bar fight” you walk towards your girlfriend.

Wanda relaxes when she sees you approaching, thinking you’ll tell the man to fuck off and get her out of there.

Instead, you grab him by the shoulders and when he turns around, your fist flies to his nose.

Darcy pulls out a whistle from heaven knows where.

“Bridal shower girlies, out the door, now, now! You too, Wanda”

Everyone’s sneaking out before the fight can escalate, but the man catches you off guard, hitting your face and splitting your lip.

“You never hit a woman, you coward!” Fanny says, throwing a chair his way. “Get him out of here”

Taking advantage of the commotion, you escape, practically jumping on the minivan. Darcy starts the engine even before you close the door, everyone shrieking and panicking as she swirves on the road, clearly too drunk to drive.

“We’re going to die!” Kamala cries in the backseat. “I don’t wanna die!”

“Lewis, pull over! I’m driving!” you say, hitting your head against the window when she takes a sharp turn.

“How do you stop this thing?” Darcy says, forgetting how to use the brakes.

It takes a couple of tries, but then she’s parking by the sidewalk, knocking a trash can.

You sigh, going out to take her place while she crawls over the passenger seat. Kamala asks you to wait a second and the minute she’s out, you hear her throw up.

“Well, at least it didn’t happen inside the car” Darcy smiles, giving you a thumbs up.

—

The cool air clears your head.

“Sorry” Wanda says, holding your chin as she cleans your bloody lip. “That was very hot, though”

“Mhm. Right back at you with that little dance. Should I set up a pole in your studio?”

“Stop” she laughs, inspecting her work. “Ok, you’re good”

You turn to look at the rest of the group. The girls are showing Carol the videos they took while Maria and Darcy get some ice cream.

You figured the pier was the safest spot to unwind and sober up before heading back home.

“Here ya go” Darcy hands you an ice cream cone.

“Thanks, pal. It was a great party”

“Better than senior year spring break?”

“Ha! Not that good, Lewis”

“What happened in that party?” Wanda asks.

“Nothing” Darcy and you say at the same time.

“God damn it, is Kamala going in the water?” Darcy says, standing up to go check on them.

You both laugh, shaking your heads at the way the night ended.

“For our wedding maybe we should skip this whole bachelorette party thing” you say without thinking.

“If… that’s what you want” Wanda says, speechless at how casual you’re being.

To be fair, you just took painkillers even if you had a couple of drinks. That and the little fight have left you a bit distracted. You honestly don’t even notice you’re talking about a potential wedding.

Then, Kamala and Kate are both in the water, swearing they saw a mermaid and a coast guard is approaching, telling them it is forbidden to swim.

“Ah, jeez. Everyone, get in the car, now!”

For the second time that evening, you have to flee to avoid the consequences of your stupid actions, but everyone’s laughing as you start the minivan.

It’s not so bad after all.

—

The evening’s going great. Your lip isn’t hurting that much, Wanda seems to be enjoying her food and she also looks absolutely stunning.

Yet, you can’t help but feel nervous about what you have to tell her.

Wanda mistakes your anxiety with nerves, and for a bigger part of the night she expects you to get down in one knee and ask her to marry you.

But she knows that’s such a generic way to do it and you would absolutely do something different and unique.

“Are you feeling ok? Still a little hungover from yesterday?” she asks when you’re walking down the pier, her hand holding on to your arm as you look out the bay.

“No, it’s not that” you reassure her, stopping and turning to look at her. “I have to tell you something”

Wanda’s heart beats faster. Your demeanor isn’t making her feel very confident right now, as you avoid her eyes.

“Hey, look at me” Wanda reaches forward,squeezing your hand. “It’s ok”

“Right. Remember Val? From Boston”

“I’m not… maybe. Why? What’s the matter?”

Wanda’s mind is racing with a million possibilities. Were you and Val involved? Did you feel guilty for keeping it from Wanda?

“Well, she works for Doctors without borders. And though that requires leaving for a very long period of time, she was able to connect me with an NGO that is looking for doctors that want to work in several countries. One of them being Sokovia”

“Ok? So are you going?” Wanda tries to understand what you’re saying.

“I want to… I want us to go together” you reach for her waist, pulling her closer and leaning your forehead against hers. “They liked my experience so I can go only for the summer. I’d help one of their hospitals to develop an ER protocol, make things better”

“And the kids?”

“Like I said, I choose when to go. It could be during summer break. We’ll go together. I really want to know where you came from, your home… but I get it if you don’t want to go back”

“I just… I never thought you’d want to go” she says, trying to wrap her head around what you just said.

“Of course I do. Plus you told me about that book you want to write, it could be a good time to do research. Right?”

“Right” Wanda smiles, relieved that this is what you wanted to talk about. She can’t help but laugh when she realises you also didn’t propose.

“You ok? Was this too much?”

“No, it’s not that. I was just… worried it might be something bad. But it’s not, detka. You just took me by surprise and I want to think about this. It’s not easy going back after everything that happened”

“Of course, I know. I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” she leans to kiss you softly. “Now, let’s go home before mom gets mad at us”

“Yeah, we had enough with yesterday’s scolding. She’s so scary” you shudder, making Wanda laugh.

Ekaterina didn’t have a lot of nice things to say when you sneaked back into the house after the bachelorette party, giggling like a couple of teenagers.

She was also very much not impressed by your split lip and bruised knuckles.

When you go back home, the kids are already asleep but Ekaterina is still in the dining room table, playing a game on her phone.

“No trouble this time?” she says, looking at you sternly.

“No, Ma’am. We had dinner and a nice walk, didn’t we, love?” you say, turning to Wanda for backup. She nods, and you kiss her temple. “I’m going upstairs, gotta get ready for work tomorrow”

“Good night” Ekaterina says, Wanda promising to be right there.

“Want me to walk you out?” she asks her mother, and Ekaterina stays silent for a moment longer, looking at her daughter.

“You seem disappointed” she says instead of answering the question.

“Mama. I’m tired” Wanda sighs, walking to the kitchen to make some tea.

“Let me. And tell me what’s wrong” her mother takes over as she usually does.

Wanda sits at the kitchen counter, trying to gather her thoughts.

“A small part of me thought she was proposing tonight. And then we got to talking and it’s a whole different thing”

“Children?” Ekaterina asks and Wanda shakes her head no. “Then?”

“She wants to go to Sokovia for the summer. There’s a hospital looking for help and... well, she seems really excited fot all of us to go, like it’s a vacation”

“That’s nice of her. Wanting to help, I mean. Truthfully, I’ve been to the hospital in the city and it could use some work”

“Why have you been there? Are you sick?” Wanda snaps, suddenly scared that her mother is keeping something from her.

“No, malyshka. Relax. Now tell me. You don’t want to go?”

“I’m scared that the happy memories I have are just my mind romanticizing the past. Like I just remember things being good because it’s been so long and it’s easier to forget the bad stuff”

“I see. Well, I was there. I saw you grow up, laugh in the snow, learn how to ride a bike down the hills of our street… I promise you, all the happiness you felt will be there. It’s your home, Wanda. Sometimes embracing the past can heal us”

“So, you think I should go?” Wanda says, sipping from her cup of tea.

“I think you shouldn’t let fear decide what you want. Now, as for the other thing. The proposal” she clarifies when Wanda tilts her head, confused. “Does she have to be the one that proposes?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you do it? Seeing as you can’t wait to be engaged”

“No, I… if she hasn’t asked it means she’s not ready. I don’t want to pressure her”

“Or, she could be scared because last time she was ready and then you two broke up. Think about it”

Wanda stays silent for a moment. It was her who ended things between you, the one who refused to talk it out. Of course you’d want to be sure, or at the very least take some time before the next step.

It was always you who took a leap of faith. Maybe it was time Wanda did the same.

“I don’t even have a ring”

Ekaterina smiles, holding her daughter’s hands between her own.

“You know… your father and I always said that whoever found the right person first would get my engagament ring. And it seems like you beat your brother to it”

“You love that ring”

“I love that your father gave it to me. And that it’s part of our story. It will be part of yours now too”

Ekaterina takes Wanda’s palm and places the ring there.

“Love like that is hard to find”

"Thank you, Mama" Wanda says against her temple, hugging her mother.

"Don't take too long. I want more grandchildren"

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

292 notes · View notes

chelseeebe · 10 months ago

Text

jinx

18+ mdni. no smut but eddie is a grade a asshole to poor reader. mentions of weed and alcohol throughout. eddie munson x fem reader.

a/n: first off, anon i am sooo sooooo sorry it has taken me this long to fulfill your request!! i absolutely loved this request and am absolutely honoured that you came to me for it<33 i hope i've done it justice and that you still care to read this:') side note, i've updated my masterlist as i have slacked a bit but everything should be on there now ^.^

love me some chelseeebe angst—imagine fuckboy!eddie plays at the hideout right like regularly. reader starts frequenting his show days bc she likes him obviously but he starts noticing something. every time she comes in, something goes wrong. either he messes up a chord or cant see to flirt properly therefore no one ends up warming his bed as of late or something of the sort

his immediate first thought is ‘she’s a jinx!!!’ bc what other explanation could there be in his boy brain??? so he asks her to stop coming in. she does and yet he continues to mess up bc all he can think abt is her.

itd be so sexy if u added a moment of realization/angry love confession where in the middle of him being like you’ve bewitched me or something!!! he realizes hes the one obsessed with her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the party hums on in the background, a small group gathered outside to rob eddie blind, smoking away his entire supply.

robin giggles nonsensically into steve’s shoulder, too high for her own good.

“if you’re gonna smoke all my shit, the least you can do is come watch us tomorrow,” eddie had been nagging his friends to come down the hideout for months. they’d gathered a solid crowd now, not much but it was a start.

robin groans, nancy and jonathan shift in their seats, steve can barely muster enough energy to reply and argyle snores. hardly enthusiastic about his dreams.

“i’ll come,” you offer, bright-eyed as you smile politely at him from the floor.

a friend of a friend, someone robin met in class and had dutifully introduced to the group. he didn’t know you well, nor had he ever really cared to.

“i don’t think you’d like it, sweetheart” eddie retorts, flattered that you’d try and spare his feelings but he didn’t need your pity.

“why? you can’t be that bad,” chuckling quietly to yourself.

his eyes narrow, scoffing, “we’re not,” misunderstanding, or maybe just not caring to humour you back, “come if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not as if any of his friends had offered to attend.

“okay,” nodding along, “i will.”

“alright,” turning his attention back to the embering joint glued to argyles fingers.

who cares if you come? eddie certainly doesn’t.

sure enough, the same couple dozen old drunks fill the bar, their glossy, zombie-like eyes stare back at him from the floor. he’d complain but beggars can’t be choosers and all that.

they’re partway through the second song when something reflects in his eye, a low-cut sequinned top that would definitely look better on the floor of his van.

it’s only when his eyes travel up that he realises it’s you who’s wearing that shirt, already looking straight back at him. a newfound look about you, thick lines of black line your eyes, worlds apart from the mousy girl who’d invited herself last night.

“and we’re-,” he sings, an abrupt case of dry mouth as the next line struggles to come out, “we’re.. uh,” the entire song erased from his memory within seconds.

he steps back from the mic, blinking rapidly in an attempt to trigger his voice though all he can see is you and that ridiculous top.

gareth’s head whips round, still strumming along before picking up eddie’s slack, continuing the lyrics on his own, not without a damning glare in eddie’s direction.

holy fuck.

he’s just, taken aback, that’s all. shocked that you’d even bother to come, less so put the effort in to actually look the part too.

his eyes don’t leave the back wall for the rest of the gig, practically stumbling through all of the songs as his head threatens to wander. trailing back to you only as they finish, walking off stage to down the harshest whisky the bar would allow.

you saunter over a couple minutes later, while eddie tries his hardest not to stare right down your shirt. he’s not certain that he won’t choke on his words if you speak to him.

“you were really good tonight,” you assure, smiling softly as his band mate turns to gawp.

“uh, yeah.. thanks,” eddie fumbles, gripping the neck of his beer bottle, “thanks for coming.”

there’s an aura surrounding you, like a wretched spell you’d evoked in him, turning him to a bumbling fool.

“i’m gonna head out..” gesturing to the door, “see you around,” waving your fingers coyly at him before disappearing.

his eyes linger at the door, wondering if maybe you’ll turn around and come back. not that he wants that. just curious as to why you’d come out just to see him play.

“now who the hell was that?” jeff ogles, receiving a swift elbow to the ribs from eddie and a loud oof as he clutches his side.

“a friend of a friend,” brushing him off, “don’t be weird about it,” jumping the gun to squash any sorts of ideas festering in his mind.

“you’re the only one being weird about it,” jeff retorts, grabbing his beer and shuffling off.

“i’m not being weird,” eddie calls from behind, “i’m not!”

okay maybe he was being a little weird.

who cares?

definitely not eddie.

this week, he feels more prepared to see you nodding along in the crowd, robin had joined you albeit looking less than impressed.

eddie’s killing it, at least he thinks. avoiding looking anywhere in your direction, keeping his gaze on the stumbling drunk at the back instead.

but the thoughts of you can’t help but creep into his mind, were you enjoying it? do you think he’s bad? why does he even care so much?

his hand slides down the neck of the guitar, playing the wrong chord entirely, his fingers curating a mind of their own.

fuck fuck fuck.

why does this keep happening?

gareth glares at him again, he had never been so frustrated with his idiot bandmate in his life. sure eddie liked to dick around in rehearsal but never on stage.

if eddie ever wanted a career in music, he needed to get a monumental grip on himself. weird girls he barely knew should not have the capacity to ruin his career.

after they clamber off stage, eddie makes a point of not going over to the two of you. no, you can come to him.

though he wishes you’d just be a little faster at it if he’s honest. too busy squished into a booth with one of the younger regulars to care about him.

heat rises in his chest, searing his cheeks a bright rouge, “-who is that?” gareth interrupts, bumping into his arm.

“who’s who?” eddie coughs, clearing his throat as his eyes snap back.

“that girl you’ve been staring at,” peering across the room to get a glimpse.

“i’m not staring at anyone,” abruptly turning his head in the opposite direction, proving to himself that he wasn’t staring, not really.

“you’re a liar,” gareth calls him on his bullshit immediately, “go talk to her! she’s hot,” scooting his friend along.

“no she’s not,” you looked good tonight, he’d give you that, “can everyone please just stop being weird about this? first jeff- now you? honestly, i don’t get it,” working himself into a frenzy over what really was nothing.

gareth’s eyes widen, scoffing at his melodramatic performance, “alright man.. calm down,” shaking his head in mild disgust.

eddie was totally calm, you know, apart from his heart pounding in his chest.

nothing major.

filthy, downright pornographic sounds fill his cramped van, certain that it was rocking side to side with the utter obscenity happening in the back.

chloe sits atop of his lap, tongues dancing around one another as she glides her hips back and forth. she was a regular, slightly older than eddie, at least he thinks, they’d made eyes a few times but only tonight had he gathered the courage to go and speak to her.

any other time, eddie would be rock solid, pinning her down and fucking her into the dusty floor. today, it’s just not happening.

his mind elsewhere, too preoccupied with nonsense to appreciate the opportunity at hand.

he's thinking about you and the fact you’d left the bar without ever coming over to him tonight. what the fuck was that about?

had he done something wrong?

he breaks apart from her mouth, heaving into the tiny gap between them, “i don’t know what’s going on..” he chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his useless dick, “normally something happens by now..”

she frowns, deep-set, showing her age more than before, “oh.”

he reaches down, furiously palming his cock through his jeans.

nothing. not even a twitch.

he wants to curl up and die. never in his three years of actually getting laid has this ever happened. eddie got hard at the drop of a pin, he’d only have to think about boobs and his jeans would shift.

so why the fuck wasn’t it working tonight?

“i’m gonna go,” chloe scowls, clambering over his legs, gathering her bag while not even attempting to hide her disappointment.

eddie shoots up, pathetically crawling after her, desperate not to let her go.

“it’s not me!” he screams out, watching helplessly as she crawls out of the van, “it’s you!”

no.

“wait no! shit, that’s not what i meant,” peeking out of the van to find the empty parking lot, zero women to be found, “fuck sake.”

left to wallow in his self-pity, alone, in the back of his dirty van.

just as he deserved.

if this was some karmic intervention, telling him to be a better person, he certainly wasn’t paying it any attention.

another party meant another night of eddie trying to understand why the hell you had such an effect on him.

it’s not even like you’re doing anything particularly riveting, sat with your drink in hand, nodding along to robin’s story.

he can’t stand it.

you have to go.

maybe not like that, but he had to put some distance between you. there’s no way he could keep his sanity while you were still a constant in his life.

eddie sidles over, feeling like the smartest guy in the room. he could do this, separate himself from you and your clutches and go back to playing as he once did.

you smile upon him appearing, sickly and sweet. it makes his heart thump in the weirdest way.

“oh.. hey,” playing this entirely nonchalantly, “i just thought i’d let you know that we’re not playing next week,” lying through his teeth, guilt ridden but really, it was necessary if he wanted to play a gig without fucking up the entire time.

“oh,” sounding somewhat disappointed, “okay.. how come?”

shit.

he can’t think of a single valid reason as to why they wouldn’t be playing.

“jeff’s sick.. real bad,” feeling even more guilty for lying about his friends health, wondering if he’s cursing jeff as you did him, “might even be a couple weeks off at this point.”

eddie was a terrible person.

but so were you.

bewitching him under some spell, forcing him to play terribly and embarrass himself in front of women

you’ve jinxed him. a bad omen cursing him to play like a fucking amateur. that’s the only logical explanation his pea brain can conjure up anyway.

that meant you had to stay away from the shows, from him preferably.

he couldn’t understand why you have this effect on him, why your mere presence has him becoming a floundering fool. you don’t intimidate him, not even close.

it’s almost as if he cares too much about what you think, to the extent that he overthinks it so hard that he fucks up.

a curse that could only be broken with some distance between you. that way he could focus on the show instead of you and your doe eyes reflecting off of the stage lights.

that’s what he’s praying for anyway.

eddie despises wednesday’s. itching to get his classes over and done with so he can get his small taste of stardom on that tiny hideout stage.

at some point over the last few weeks of you being an omnipotent presence in his life, he’d grown accustomed to crossing paths with you before the gig.

crossing campus with your chin tucked down, arms wrapped tight around your books. typically only sharing a smile or a short nod.��

but this week you saunter over, resembling a frightened deer even more than usual.

he pulls his headphone from his ear, anticipating whatever nonsensical, vaguely cute thing you were going to say.

“hey,” he nods, a coy smile.

even now you have his palms sweating, overthinking whether he should’ve said hi or hello instead.

“you didn’t have to lie to me,” you start, brows furrowed, “it’s fine if you don’t want me to go to your gigs anymore, i don’t care,” a disappointed frown plaguing your normally cheerful face. “i thought i liked you eddie, really- but i don’t know anymore.. you’re not a good person.”

you turn to walk off before he can even compute your words.

oh shit.

“wait!” he calls but it’s useless, “i didn’t- i wasn’t- fuck.”

it was unthinkably cruel, he didn’t think you’d ever find out. and maybe that was his problem, assuming you didn’t care enough to find out.

guilt addles his chest, weighing heavy on his heart. for good reason too.

eddie was an asshole. a true, grade-a asshole that wayne would positively despise him for.

wait wait wait.

you liked him?

absolutely not. no way. that wasn’t what this was about.

or it’s not supposed to be.

no, this was some adolescent feud, a confusing, one-sided, friendship that he couldn’t get a grip on.

you didn’t like him. girls like you weren’t supposed to.

it’s not at all surprising that he plays like absolute shit tonight too.

guilt ridden for forcing your hand, for making you look at him like that. as if he were the worst person to walk the earth.

shit, maybe he was.

kind hearted people didn’t lie and deceive. no, kind hearted people came to gigs they obviously didn’t give a shit about. kind hearted people feigned interest in boring spiel about weed strains and whatever the fuck else eddie jabbered on about at parties.

you, you were kind. kinder than he deserved.

gareth slaps him harshly on the back the second they’re back behind the curtain, a scornful yet pitying scowl on his face, “look man,” he begins, “i dunno what’s going on with you but i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna let us play here if you keep playing like that.”

eddie sighs, because he knows this. he’s well aware that his performances have been lacklustre for weeks now. he just doesn’t really understand why.

at first he thought it was just because you were there, a distance friend who would feed back to his friends about how good, or bad, he was.

but that wasn’t it.

you were there, and then you weren’t. and he still played like shit.

somewhere entangled deep within his wretched heart, he thinks that maybe he just wanted to impress you.

a nice girl, cares about her studies way more than he does, pretty too and you didn’t look at him like he was just some out of touch stoner with crazy dreams of his band getting big.

you were polite, listening to his wacky stories and dreams of playing for thousands, in fact, you encouraged them, more than his friends ever had for sure.

eddie’s not sure if, or how, he’ll ever be able to make amends for how he’s treated you.

he’s making himself sick with worry. guilt wracking his brain.

you don’t turn up that night, obviously.

eddie’s eyes mindlessly search the crowd for any hint of you. his fingers failing to correspond with the rest of band, always playing a beat behind.

you had infected him, ruined his once masterful skill to just a shell of what it once was.

he doesn’t lay opportunity for the boys to speak to him again, rushing out of the bar as soon as his guitar is back in her case.

there’s only one place he can think about going.

a few months back, you’d hosted robin’s birthday party there and eddie had disgraced your bathroom with a girl he can’t even remember now.

his fist bangs on the door, hoping the light in the upstairs window was you and not one of your roommates he’d have to shamefully apologise to.

the orange light cascades over your face, peeking out from the barely cracked door with a frown that would scare any man off.

“what’re you doing?” you spit, looking backwards in hopes he hadn’t woken the entire house up.

“listen,” he sighs, “i’m real sorry about.. you know, lying to you,” his shoulders slumped over themselves, “but i just- i can’t fucking play when you’re there, can’t play when you’re not,” sounding utterly pathetic, begging for you to cure him from this sudden sickness. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” dragging his hand over his face.

rightfully earning his spot as the worlds biggest fucking loser, stood on your doorstep begging for an answer.

when he opens his eyes enough to look at you, you’re scowling back at him. nothing like how he had planned this situation in his head.

he’d hoped that miraculously you’d understand, accept his apology and somehow still feel the same as you had.

because that was it, really.

too terrified to face the fact that he liked you too.

somewhere in his heart of hearts he’d known it from the start. that’s why his heart fluttered when you’d volunteered to come or why he’d struggled to even touch anyone else.

“what do you want me to say?” shrugging, “i won’t come back, that’s fine,” he wishes you’d just follow the script he’d curated for you.

eddie doesn’t want you to stop coming, he never had. it’s killing him that you even believed that, twisting the knife in his chest further and further the more your bottom lip juts out and your eyes water.

“actually, maybe it’s best if we don’t talk anymore,” you suggest, throwing him completely off kilter.

woah.

that wasn’t at all what he wanted nor was he trying to say. he just couldn’t gather the actual words he needed to express that to you.

petrified that he’d admit to his feelings and you’d just turn around and laugh, how could someone like you ever like such a cruel man?

“wait no, that’s not what i meant-,” bargaining with you for a little time to explain himself, though you definitely didn’t owe him any.

“-thanks for coming eddie, i’ll see you around,” flashing him a crestfallen smile before abruptly closing the door in his face.

public humiliation was truly the only way eddie could think to make it up to you.

well that and maybe a little big nudge from robin.

he’d rather stupidly asked about you on saturday night, confused why you weren’t there alongside robin, who had very quickly got him in check.

“why do you think dumbass?” she snapped, snarling her teeth at him, “you were an asshole and now she’s doesn’t want to come anymore,” her glare powerful and harsh, "i'd say you were lucky she didn't punch you in the face."

he’d deserve it.

it had taken weeks of convincing to get you anywhere near the hideout again. not to mention the hundreds in free weed he’d had to bribe robin with to get her to help.

you stand in a dark corner, hands folded against your chest, puzzled and irritated by robin’s incessant begging to get you here.

“there’s someone here that i wanna apologise to,” his eyes don’t find you as easy this time, after weeks of missing your presence, he’s not used to you actually being in the crowd again, “if you know us, you know i can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, uh..” they find you, the lump only growing in his throat, “i’m sorry,” tunnel vision blocking out every other body in the room, “i’m really, really sorry.”

you blink, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights. it makes him a little bit nauseous to recall how dreadfully he’d treated you, how you deserved absolutely none of it.

your gaze lowers, and eddie can’t decide how to take it. he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to never forgive him, but he also couldn’t take it if you didn’t.

his voice cracks a little as he speaks, “this is.. uh, we’re corroded coffin,” stepping back from the mic to gather his thoughts before the drum comes crashing in.

eddie plays the best he’s potentially ever played.

a force overcoming him to prove that he truly wasn’t as much as a loser as he’s shown himself to be.

usually, he couldn’t wait to be off that stage and to the bar but today he’s dreading it.

knowing that you’re somewhere out there waiting for an explanation.

or maybe you weren’t. he wouldn’t blame you if you’d decided to leave soon after he’d embarrassed himself with that shitty apology.

gareth runs up behind him, using his shoulders to launch himself into the air, “holy shit! that was amazing!” the boy presses a slobbery kiss to his cheek before continuing, “whatever the hell you did, keep doing it because that was insane!” running off past eddie to grab his weekly complimentary beer.

a sudden sickness fills his stomach, slyly hoping that he could slip out of here before anyone else noticed him.

you stand across the bar, waiting to catch his eye with your lips curled only ever-so-slightly.

eddie’s limbs go stiff, still entranced by your jinx. by you.

your eyes trail away to the door as his follow, shuffling your way through the bustling crowd.

his legs carry him without a second thought, out into the cool night as his eyes frantically search for you.

he finds you perched against the crumbling stone wall a few feet from the entrance, just far enough away from the prying eyes of the smoking patrons.

“i didn’t think you’d ever come back here,” is all he can say, feet trailing along the gravel.

the streetlight glistens orange from your eyes, staring up at him from your perch, “i didn’t want to,” your smile only growing as he nears, “robin made me.”

“oh,” it wasn’t as if he didn’t know that or that he didn’t orchestrated the entire thing, it just felt odd to hear it from your mouth.

“i’m glad i came,” you clarify, allowing him to finally release the breath held tight in his chest.

eddie dares to move closer, sitting back on the brick just inches away, “yeah?”

you nod, the great big smile he’d forced away making a return at last, “yeah.”

suddenly the air feels thick, it was easier apologising on stage, those people didn’t know him, they didn’t care. but now, sat here in front of you, it feels like he’s swallowing knives.

“i’m really sorry for making you feel that way,” though it sounds meaningless now the damage was done, “i don’t know if you still care about me at all, but i- um,” his throat runs dry, clamping his eyes shut. it felt easier that way, somehow, “i think the reason why i was such.. an asshole,” the light flickers through his eyelids again, deciding that you at least deserved to see him, “fuck,” he exclaims, staring back at your confused expression.

“it’s okay,” soothing even now, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” a twinge of sadness running through your tone.

“no, no i do,” eddie persists. he’d fumbled once, he couldn’t do it again. “shit man,” he sighs, “i’m trying to tell you that i like you too, or maybe not too, i know i was an ass and i don’t deserve your forgiveness-,” your lips cuts him off mid-mumble, surging forward to press them against his blathering ones.

he has to blink a couple times, taking in whatever the fuck was happening to him.

you pull back, disappointed that his brain had been to fuzzy to focus on kissing you back. too preoccupied with trying not to explode and paint you in red.

“really eddie.. it’s okay,” returning to your usual reserved self while his brain still struggles to compute.

“can we do that again?” he asks politely, keeping the bubbling excitement to a minimum.

you laugh, a real, throaty laugh, something he hadn’t heard in weeks, “only if you promise to stop talking,” leaning in once more, the rigid wall suddenly feeling like it was about to collapse from underneath him.

your soft, cherry-tinted lips press against his forehead a second time, allowing him to gather his brain from a pile of mush on the floor just enough to actually kiss you back. a tender hand reaching out to caress his stubbly cheek, sending shockwaves through his limbs.

you’re interrupted again by a loud whoop from behind, robin clapping wildly as she emerges from the bar, “now you two have kissed and made up, can we go home now?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #request #eddie munson x female reader

697 notes · View notes

noosayog · 9 months ago

Text

perv shidou (not closet because let's be real)

cw: dub con touching & groping

perv isagi | perv barou | perv nagi | perv kunigami

Shidou leans back in his chair, hands supporting his head and feet propped up on the desk, content to watch you struggle with erasing the top of the chalkboard.

“Hey asshole, you know we’re both on classroom duty right?”

He grins. “Seems like you got it.”

You lean up on your tiptoes and it gives you a few inches but there’s still over a foot of board left unerased. You turn around to give him a glare, hands on your hips. You must think yourself intimidating.

“Clearly, I don’t.”

Shidou shrugs.

You huff, turning back to face the chalkboard. He sits up, watching with rapt attention now as you start to do little hops to reach higher up. His gaze trails from the bounce of your breasts to the fluttering hem of your skirt.

You don’t notice Shidou approaching until he’s all up in your business, his tie brushing against your back. When you feel his breath against your neck, you jump back, pressing against the chalkboard.

“Hey! What’s your deal? Ever heard of personal space?” you shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move. In fact, it feels like he’s getting closer, closing in on you.

It’s not your imagination because you feel his whisper in your ear, “I’ll help you if you say my name.”

“Fuck you-”

His hand ghosts over your waist. The sensation is ticklish, but not unpleasant.

“Sh- Shidou,” you stutter.

“Ah-ah,” he tuts. “So close.”

He’s smooth with it, deftly untucking your shirt so his greedy fingers can touch your skin. His hands have a mind of their own now, searing grasp tight around your ribs. His eyes close unconsciously when he gets a whiff of your shampoo.

“Ry- Ryusei,” you whisper breathlessly.

Shidou spins you around and snakes his arms around your waist to hoist you up. The position he has you in, arms circling your torso and your ass pressed to his chest, leaves you mortifyingly powerless.

“Ryusei! Put me down!”

It’s completely a lucky accident that the rest of your shirt slips from its tucked position in your waistband, causing Shidou’s grip to slip. To keep you up, his hands shift to hold your exposed midsection, his fingers digging into the fat of your tummy.

“Oh my god, Ryusei. Let go!”

Shidou can’t help but savor the sound of his name on your tongue, his hands all over you. “If you want me to let go, you better get erasing.”

You do it, moving as quickly as you can, while Shidou milks every second of this. His fingers brush your ribs, murmuring across the sensitive skin of your stomach. He contemplates “accidentally” slipping more to allow his wandering hands further up, just enough so he can brush the underside of your bra. The moment is cut short when your hands come down to tug at his hair.

“I’m done, so put me down.”

He obliges since he’s had his fill for today.

When your feet hit solid ground, you glare up at him. “You could’ve just done it yourself. You didn’t have to put your hands all over me.”

He just shrugs. And I’d do it again.

#noos writes #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #shidou ryusei #shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou x reader #shidou x you #shidou x y/n #blue lock fic #bllk fic

806 notes · View notes

notiddygothgf · 2 months ago

Text

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ You want it? Work for it. ❞

★ c.w.: smut, so much smut, spanking, choking, use of 'sir', degradation, dom/sub elements, overstimulation. he is so fucking nasty omg.

★ a/n: ITS HERE. the moment you've all been waiting for. omg. i'm so burnt out after writing this. i put off my precalc hw just bc i couldn't do anything but this lMFOAOAOAOAO I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE THIS AS MUCH AS I DO. i think this is officially the longest smut ive ever written. It's also totally unbeta'd for the sake of getting it out to you all in a timely fashion. Anyway. hope you all enjoy! let me know how much you appreciate me and my writing by continuing to leave those lovely comments, i love reading the spam. love yall x.

★ w.c: .17k

pornstar ; chapter index

WITHOUT THINKING, you grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him toward you, your lips crashing into his with a desperate urgency that left no room for hesitation. His gasp was swallowed by your mouth as you kissed him harder, fiercer, as if trying to pour every frustration, every thought, every ounce of confusion into the kiss. His hands were everywhere, sliding across your back, pulling you closer, like he was trying to fuse you together.

The kiss was messy. It was raw. There were no careful, tender movements, no thought. It was all frantic, hungry need. His lips moved against yours with the same intensity, his grip on you almost painful as if he feared you'd slip away from him. You tugged at his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric, and it only made the fire between you burn hotter.

Aki groaned against your mouth, the sound vibrating through your body and sending a shiver down your spine. You didn’t know if it was the heat of the moment, the proximity, or the powder still swirling in your veins, but you couldn’t stop. Every time his lips brushed against yours, every time his tongue slid against yours, your body reacted in ways that scared you.

He kissed you like it was his last chance, and you kissed him back with the same ferocity, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer, if that was even possible. You could feel the pulse of his heartbeat under your fingers as you pressed your hands to his chest, your body desperately craving more.

The room seemed to tilt around you. Everything else faded into the background. The music, the voices, the noise—it all became muffled as you two stumbled back toward the couch, tripping over each other’s feet, too consumed with the sensation of each other to care about anything else.

You could feel the heat radiating off of Aki as he pulled you onto the couch, falling back with you on top of him. His hands roamed down your sides, settling on your hips, pulling you even closer as if trying to erase any distance between you. He groaned again, a low, guttural sound that sent shockwaves through your body.

"Fuck," Aki muttered, pulling away for just a second, panting, his forehead pressed against yours as his hands slid up to your face, his thumbs tracing your jawline. "You’re driving me insane."

You could hardly form words, your chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, your hands slipping to his neck, pulling him back to you. "Then stop," you whispered, though the challenge in your voice felt hollow. You didn’t want him to stop.

His lips captured yours again, more urgently this time, as if the world might end if he didn’t kiss you like it was the last thing he’d ever do. You responded just as desperately, your hands tugging at his hair, feeling his lips slide against yours, the taste of him invading your senses.

The tension between you was unbearable, the heat of his body, the fire in his kiss—it was all too much, and yet not enough. You wanted more. Needed more. You could feel his body underneath you, hard and strong, his hands pressing into the small of your back, holding you flush against him.

Aki let out a low growl, flipping the two of you so that now he was on top, his body pinning you to the couch. You gasped at the shift, the weight of him pressing against you, his lips leaving yours only to trail down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, leaving fire in their wake.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against your skin, his voice hoarse with desire, but his breath was shaky, like he didn’t want to stop either.

You didn’t say a word. You couldn’t. All you could do was pull him back to you, desperate for more of his touch, more of him, as you slid your hands under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest, the muscles beneath his skin. Every touch, every movement was a reminder of how badly you wanted him. How you had always wanted him.

The sensations feel… heightened.

It was messy. There was no grace to it, no smoothness, just raw, chaotic need. The kiss, the heat, the feeling of him under your fingertips, above you, around you—everything was consuming, everything was too much and not enough all at once.

The friction between you two was maddening, every part of your body screaming for more, for him. The feeling of his chest pressing against yours as he shifted slightly, groaning as your hips brushed together, was enough to make you dizzy.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t focus. All you could do was feel. Feel him. Feel the heat of his lips, the pressure of his body, the way he made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the mission, with the danger. All that mattered was the moment, the tension, the undeniable pull between you and him.

But then, with a final grunt of frustration, Aki pulled back just enough to look down at you. His eyes were dark, stormy with lust and something deeper that you couldn’t quite name. You both stared at each other, breathing heavily, hearts pounding, as if this moment had just crossed a line that neither of you were ready for, but neither of you could stop.

It was then that you realized – the two of you were more alike than you had thought. For one, right now, you both wanted the exact same thing.

In a moment’s width, he was back on you, slipping a little tongue into your mouth the same way he had done on your porch so many nights ago, when your hands had gripped his shoulders for the first time – the night everything changed. It was different, this time. The sensations, the feel of him, it was all so much stronger.

You couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips as he deepened the kiss.

It was so filthy. You had talked all of that shit, only to wind up lip-locked with him the moment the two of you were alone.

Like your hands had a mind of their own, they reached for his Public Safety uniform, fingers digging into the neatly pressed fabric of his suit. Every single detail about him was well-thought out and deliberate, from his hair without a strand out of place down to the ironed fabric of the dress shirt that lay beneath the suit when you peeled the coat off of him.

This is really happening, You couldn’t help but think.

When you struggled to get more of him – to make do with the buttons on his crisp white dress shirt, the one you had imagined taking off of him – he sat back onto his knees, chest heaving up and down, eyes wild and gone. Then, one by one, he began to pop the buttons on his shirt.

We both want the same thing.

We both want the same fucking thing.

This isn’t really happening. It can’t be.

You had imagined the scene countless times before – the image of your commanding officer towering over you, strong, calloused fingers unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off – but nothing compared to the real thing.

His statuesque physique was enough to have you reeling, shirt slipping off of his toned biceps, opening in the front to reveal chiseled skin – valleys and ridges of hard-earned muscle. (And he did have abs – your speculation was right). His chest was well-defined, pectorals rising and falling with every trembling breath. Scars marred his pale skin here and there, physical remnants of what he had gone through to earn his title. At a loss for words, you could do nothing but stare, drink in the body you had fantasized about for so long while you realized that it was so much better in person.

Holy fuck.

God, he looked like he could break you.

He laughed, a breathless sound, “You keep staring at me like that and you’re gonna inflate my ego.”

“Shut up,” You replied, slipping your hand around his shoulders and finally, finally making contact with the hot skin there. His shoulders were so muscular… ugh! It was taking everything in you to stay quiet about it.

He was, undeniably, the most infuriatingly attractive individual you had ever met.

Before you could dwell on it any further, he was back on you, like he couldn’t breathe without being interlocked with you. Like he was driven by some primal, animalistic urge rather than any form of reason. His lips descended from yours down to the crook of your neck, planting a row of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the apex of your throat – leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

When he came into an obstacle – that, of course, being your shirt, he grumbled something under his breath, undoing the first four buttons with practiced ease. Then, getting impatient, he gripped the fabric in his hands and promptly ripped your shirt open, sending buttons flying all over the wooden floorboards.

“Capt–” You gasped, but it turned into a moan the moment his lips were back on your skin, your warmth, descending down to the valley between your breasts in a manner that was so uncharacteristically uncalculated, it made your head spin. Your back arched up into his touch, criminally betraying your desires.

“Look at you. Arching up into me,” He teased you, words slurred against your skin, “I’ve barely even started with you.”

Then, he was diving back in, gripping your breasts up with two strong hands and practically burying his face between them, biting and sucking like he couldn’t give a rat's ass about whether or not he left marks.

“Fuck you,” You hissed, though it lacked the venom and bite you had hoped for. “It feels… God, it feels so different, I– I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

I need him.

When he popped his head up, his hair was disheveled, face flushed, lips glossy, “Sex… pollen…” He panted. Then, reaching beneath the cup of your bra, he slipped the fabric to the side so that he could get a real grip of you – sending you careening into his touch once more. “I think we got sprayed… with sex pollen. That… that devil we’re hunting must be… some sort of sexual deviant– fuck, I can’t keep my fucking hands off of you.”

With that, he lowered his lips to your exposed breast, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth with a satisfied hum, like he was meant to be there. The high-pitched mewl that left your lungs at the intensified sensation was anything but savory, yet it only seemed to spur him onward.

The man before you was not Aki Hayakawa. He was depraved and animalistic and… undeniably enticing.

“Ohmygod– oh!” You cried out for him, tangling your fingers into the hair beneath his ponytail. “That’s di– that’s different.”

His lips formed a slight suction seal around the nipple, and that’s all it took to have you arching your back all over again, whining like a mutt. His tongue lavished you with attention, flicking over the nub before he began descending even lower, kissing and kicking his way down to your belly.

What the fuck is going on?

“Touch me—” You gasped out, “Touch me, sir, please.”

You had scarcely called him sir before. Crazy what a bit of sex pollen will do to someone.

No, you thought. This is exactly what I wanted. This entire situation – his breathless kisses, his touch trailing down lower and lower, it was everything you had fantasized about and so much more.

He’s kissing me like he’s been thinking about it, too.

“Words,” He broke away to command, “Tell me where.”

Rather than glorifying him with a response, you grabbed the hand that had paused its stroking of the skin on your waist and moved it a little further down south, inching towards your belt. Thankfully, he got the hint, and made quick work out of undoing it and shucking it to the side. Once that was out of the way, your pants came next. He wiggled them down your thighs and tossed them off to God-knows-where.

Then, finally, finally, he pulled the crotch of your panties to the side, running a digit through your heat to collect some slick onto his finger, and– fuck, you were practically dripping all over him already.

Sex pollen, you reminded yourself. Don’t lose your grip.

This is really happening.

“So wet for me already,” He remarked, teasing his finger over your entrance like he knew you were aching for him to stop playing around and just slip it in already. “You like being bossed around, hmm? All that arguing got you hot and bothered?”

When the digit finally broke the entrance, sliding in with a shocking lack of resistance, you released a shuddering moan, rolling your hips down into his touch.

“Not so tough now, huh? Don’t worry,” He hummed. “I’m gonna make sure you eat every last fucking word you said to me.”

I’m gonna pass out, you thought. I’m gonna melt into a puddle and evaporate into thin air. The degradation was humiliating, to say the least, but what made it even worse was the fact that you actually fucking liked it.

No, scratch that, you loved it.

You fucking loved being humiliated by him. In some sick, depraved way, you loved it.

He curled his fingers up inside of you, making a “come here” gesture, as if his digits were massaging you from the inside. They brushed up against that spot, that spongy place deep inside of you that made your voice break on an uncanny moan of his name.

“So sensitive…” He crooned, words carrying a false-saccharine tone that made your face flush. “I thought you were mad at me, hm? You had a whole fuckin’ lot to say earlier – what happened?”

“Go fuck yourself,” You spat.

“Oh, I bet you’d love that,” He hummed, and you froze at the comment. Still, it was hard to defend yourself when he decided to take up such a languid pace inside of you, caressing your insides like he had all the time in the fucking world. “You’re practically dripping all over my hand. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

You could only whine in response – completely and utterly humiliated because he was right. He was right there – right where you needed him to be, and that sweet, sweet friction was enough to have your eyes rolling back into their sockets.

“Don’t think I don’t see the way you get all flustered when I tell you what to do…” He punctuated his sentence with a particularly harsh thrust of his fingers. “How you misbehave… The eyes don’t lie,” he added, “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

You did. God, you did.

“I–” Your breath hitched on a moan as he added another finger. “Hayakawa, you fucking– you bastard.”

“What’s that?” He teased, pulling all three fingers out of you in an instant and leaving you fiending for more. “I didn’t catch that.”

Then, he was bringing the three slick-covered digits to your lips and tapping them twice. “Suck. Get them wet for me.”

God, he’s fucking nasty.

And the most shameful part of all was the fact that you opened up willingly, letting him slot his fingers between your lips and pet your tongue with them. They were big, too – much longer than yours – and they damn near went down your throat.

You were a bad, bad kohai, but if you didn’t wind up being fired after this, you figured you would at least have a fond memory to hold onto. That image, of course, being your captain on his knees over you, pupils blown wide and hazy, sliding his fingers in and out of your mouth so lewdly – letting them graze the back of your mouth, letting you choke.

“Being so obedient,” He commented, somewhere halfway between awe and arousal. “If I knew all it would take to shut you up was a couple of fingers, it would have made my life a hell of a lot easier.”

Your lips wrapped around his fingers. He continued to pump them in and out of your mouth, pushing further and further into your mouth each time – like he was testing your limits, if you could take the rest of him. They left a trail of spit that dripped down your chin as they popped out of your mouth, eliciting a quiet gasp from you.

You were putty in his fucking hands.

“You’ve been thinking about this ever since that night after the bar, haven’t you?” He cooed, “Tell me the truth.”

Then, with newfound lubrication, his fingers were back inside of you – long and thick and talented enough to have you questioning what you had previously thought about Hayakawa’s sexless life. From the looks of it, he seemed to know his way around your body better than you did, better than any other man you had ever been with.

In, out, in, out – fingers crooked up, curled, crossed. You couldn’t even wrap your head around it anymore. All you could do was babble mindlessly, lose yourself in the overwhelming sensations as he undid the strings of your resolve one by fucking one.

“I’m not– I’m not tellin’ you shi–” You began to speak, to come up with a snappy retort, but again, a moan was ripped from your lungs before you could even get the words out. It was proving to be a rather difficult task, maintaining your head while his fingers were curling up so wonderfully against your sweet spot –

God damn, he made a good argument.

“Yes–” You gasped out. “Fuck, yes, okay. I have– Haya–”

“If it’s not Aki, then it’s sir,” He growled in response, domineering tone sending a pleasurable shiver running up and down your spine. “Bet you get off on it, hm? Get off on pissing me off… being put in your place.”

Before you could answer, he sucked your lower lip back into his mouth, grabbing a fistful of your hair and craning your neck back so that he could kiss you even more nastily. Mouths open, tongues tangled, fingers picking up a quicker pace inside of you – he was doing you in.

He curled his fingers once more, pulling a strangled moan from the depths of your throat. At the sight of you, he shivered, releasing you from his hold to place a hand over his crotch, like he was aching to relieve some of the tension. You felt like you were going to pull your hair out any minute now and you were actively being touched – you couldn’t imagine how he was holding it together.

“I do,” You admitted.

“You’ve probably fucked this pretty pussy to the thought of it,” He moaned out, “Haven’t you?”

You gasped out, “Yes, sir.”

“Hah– Shit,” He panted. His fingers picked up an almost brutal pace, a constant pressure on your g-spot that felt so fucking good, it almost hurt. “You have no… fucking idea how I feel when you call me that.”

You wouldn’t last much longer, not if he kept up the way he was going.

“Do you have… any clue…” He panted, eyes wild. “What you fucking do to me? Kissing me on your porch… walking around here running your mouth like you haven’t been thinking about me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

You wanted to. Desperately, you wanted to – but you couldn’t. He was right. You had been thinking about him every fucking night since the kiss had happened. Instead, you reached out for him, desperate to see him unravel the way you were about to.

“No,” He continued, “You’ve wanted this for a long time, haven’t you? Answer me.”

You reached between the two of your bodies, cupping the bulge in his slacks and finally getting a feel of him. You massaged the area gently, teasingly, willing yourself to hold on just long enough to see him break first.

“I won’t– I can’t,” You stammered out. You refused to comply, refused to comply with his orders.

You gripped him through his slacks a little firmer now.

“Oh, fuck…” He breathed out, voice broken on a whimper, and it was, single-handedly, the hottest thing you had ever heard.

He’s losing control, too. Even if his fingers never stopped bringing you closer and closer to the edge, it seemed as if he, himself, were closer to losing himself than he was willing to admit.

How would it feel to give in to him? To submit yourself to him entirely? Would maintaining your tough facade be worth it in the end? Would it be easier to simply submit to the desire you know you couldn’t run away from forever?

Instead of confronting that, you rubbed your hand back and forth.

“I touched myself to the thought of you the other night,” You panted out, and his eyes snapped up to meet yours. “It… I couldn’t stop thinking about how you would be in bed, but… nothing… compares to the real thing.”

“God,” He shuddered.

And the coil of your release was wound so tight… it would snap any minute, now.

“Almost…” You moaned, rutting your hips down against the fingers that were pistoning in and out of you at a dizzying pace. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

It was absolutely absurd, the hold that he had on you. You were beginning to teeter dangerously close to the ledge, now.

“I need you to cum for me,” He breathed out, eyes half-lidded, lips glossy, “I need– fuck– wanna feel it.”

He buried his head in your neck, licking and sucking at the skin there just hard enough to cause you to arch your back, but not hard enough to leave any real marks.

That damned coil in your abdomen only gew tighter – mind and legs equally numb as you began to tremble. Yet, even then, you still found the strength to run your fucking mouth again.

“I’m not… gonna do… shit for you.”

His eyes flickered up to your face, glinting with that primal desire, that fire that made your gut churn with heat. His thumb popped out, rubbing tight, quick circles over your aching clit, and you were done for.

“Just when I thought your attitude was beginning to improve,” He tsked, feigning a pout. “What will it take to get you to stop being such a fucking brat?”

That word alone was enough to have you reeling for more. Hell, you weren’t even sure what you wanted anymore. You needed to think straight, to come to your senses, but you couldn’t – didn’t want to. All you wanted to think about now was Aki and the way his long fingers were splitting you open, making you see stars, reaching places no one had ever reached before.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” He smiled. “You want more. Be a good girl, and I just might give it to you, yeah?”

You were going to explode. Literally, like – just… everywhere. Your eyes damn near rolled back into your head. “Ngh… fuck…” you cried out, thighs betraying your cocky exterior by clenching around his strong arm.

Give in to him.

I can’t.

Be good.

I can’t.

“Cum for me,” He commended, and you could have sworn that the heavens opened up. Finally, you would reach completion, and this nightmare would be over – or wet dream. You hadn’t decided yet.

And that was all it took to have your back arching off of the couch, sending you flying into the clouds. Your orgasm was ripped out of you – along with a long, drawn out moan… of his name.

“Aki-i!”

The shock of it ripped through you in waves, waves that you rode out on his fingers with a series of pleased moans.

Then, you struggled to catch your breath.

Aki did not appear to share your sentiment. Still just as riled up as he was a moment before, he continued to press warm kisses over the valley of your breasts, your stomach.

The ache was back – with a vengeance, too. The orgasm hadn’t helped your cause. If anything, it made you want him even more.

If he’s that skilled with his fingers, then I need to see this through.

You felt exposed and – quite frankly – a little nervous. You could see him, lashes fluttering, drinking in the sight of your leaking cunt. He eyed you up animalistically. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you would say he looked like he wanted to fucking eat you up.

His hands, large and steady, gripped your thighs, spreading you apart with a slow, deliberate reverence. He lowered his head, breath warm against your skin, his lips parting—bowed in devotion before you, like he was kneeling before something sacred.

Then, you saw his lips open—

“Wait,” you gasped, voice tight with urgency.

Aki froze immediately, his brows furrowing as he looked up at you. His grip on your thighs didn’t loosen, but his eyes flickered with apprehension, waiting for your explanation. He had been moments away from pulling you apart, from ruining you in the best possible way, but he stopped.

Your breath came in sharp, uneven pants. “I don’t know why,” you admitted, voice trembling, “but I think… if you don’t fuck me right now, I might die.”

Silence. For a split second, you weren’t sure if he was going to laugh or if he was just as wrecked as you were.

Then, his lips quirked into a slow, lazy smirk, his chest rising and falling in a breathy chuckle. “Good,” he muttered, voice low, dangerous in the way that sent heat curling deep in your stomach.

Still holding your gaze, he slipped three fingers into his mouth – the same ones that had just gotten covered in your juices a moment earlier, sucking them clean with obscene leisure, as if he had all the time in the world, as if he wasn’t unraveling you with the simplest of actions. Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned back slightly, reaching for his belt buckle and undoing it with an infuriating amount of self-restraint.

“I feel the same way.”

That control shattered the moment he surged forward, catching your lips in a kiss so deep it stole the air from your lungs. It was desperate, searing, and impossibly hungry—all tongue and heat, his hands sliding up your sides like he needed to touch every part of you at once.

Aki kissed you like he meant to drown in you, like he had no intention of ever coming up for air. He tilted his head, deepening it further, his fingers curling around the back of your neck, keeping you locked in place. You barely had time to whimper before he took complete control, licking into your mouth, swallowing every sound you made.

Your fingers found his hair, tugging hard, and he groaned against your lips, pressing you back as if he could mold your body to his. His free hand slid down, gripping your waist, pulling you even closer, his hips slotting perfectly against yours.

Reasonably, you knew better than to practice unsafe sex.

But one look into Hayakawa’s eyes, and you knew that you were dying to be filled by him.

“I’m–” He murmured in between kisses, “Clean.”

On one hand, it meant exactly what he intended—that there was nothing to worry about, that there was nothing between you now except this burning need, raw and unchecked. But on the other hand… It meant he had done this before. With other women.

You weren’t sure how to feel about that. It wasn’t like you had any right to be upset—you had been tested, too. Still, a strange sort of possessiveness curled low in your stomach, one that you didn’t entirely know what to do with.

“Me too,” you breathed, voice barely above a whisper, like the words might crack if you said them too loud. “And I’m on the pill.”

Aki’s hands flexed against your sides, his breath hitching, his lips ghosting over yours as if he was ready to devour you all over again. But before he could, you shifted, pushing against his chest until he leaned back against the couch, his dark eyes widening slightly in surprise.

Then, a slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

You climbed into his lap, straddling him with ease, feeling the way his body tensed beneath you, the way his fingers dug into your thighs, like he was barely holding himself together. You kissed him again, slow and deep, hands trailing down his chest, tracing every muscle, every dip and ridge and scar, until you reached his zipper.

Aki let out a quiet, shaky breath against your lips, his grip on you tightening. His head fell back slightly against the couch, eyes half-lidded, watching you with a look so intense it sent heat rushing through your entire body.

This is unreal.

He’s unreal.

His lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but instead, he just exhaled sharply, waiting, watching, letting you take it at your own pace. You hadn’t been this close to him since that night he’d thrown you over his shoulder and carried you all the way home, and now, the scent of his cologne, of nicotine, was driving you mad.

Needing to feel more of him up against you, you reached for the fly of his slacks, unzipping them with one shaky motion and reaching in deeper, searching for the thing you had been practically salivating just thinking about. One he was out of his navy blue boxers and sitting in your palm, hard and heavy, you swallowed, confidence faltering.

He was big. Big enough that you could hardly get your hand around him. Big enough that you could have stacked both of your fists on top of eachother and still had some room.

Still, your mama hadn’t raised a bitch, so you lowered your hips down, pressing your aching heat right up against his and – fuck, the contact was enough to have you mewling for more.

The moment you rolled your hips against him, slow and deliberate, Aki sucked in a sharp breath. His grip on your thighs tightened, fingers twitching, digging into your skin like he needed something to ground himself. His body went rigid beneath you, chest rising and falling in uneven pants, and yet—he didn’t stop you. He couldn’t.

His head tipped back against the couch, exposing the long, pale column of his throat, the rapid thud of his pulse visible against his skin. His lips parted, sucking in air as if he was trying to steady himself, trying to hold on. But you could see it—the way his pupils were blown wide, the dazed look in his eyes, the way his breath kept hitching every time you pressed down on him just right.

And god, you wanted to push him further.

So you moved again, rolling your hips slowly, teasingly, dragging out the motion, letting him feel every agonizing inch of friction between you.

Aki’s hands spasmed against your thighs, his brows pinching together, his mouth falling open as the softest, most helpless whimper slipped from his lips.

Fuck.

That sound. That desperate, breathless little sound was enough to send heat curling deep in your stomach.

You did it again, pressing down just a little harder this time, grinding against him with just enough pressure to make him unravel beneath you. Aki gasped, a sharp, wrecked noise breaking from his throat, his lashes fluttering as he struggled to keep his eyes open, to keep them on you. But it was too much.

He was slipping, fading in and out of this world, drowning in the heat of your body, in the unbearable pressure of you pressed so perfectly against him.

His fingers flexed at your waist, not guiding you, not stopping you—just holding on. Like he needed something solid, something real, while you pulled him apart.

“Fuck—” His voice was wrecked, barely more than a breathy whisper, his head falling back against the couch again.

You felt him shudder beneath you, every muscle in his body tensing, his thighs twitching under yours. It was intoxicating—the way he was completely at your mercy, the way you could see his restraint crumbling, the way his body kept begging for more even as he struggled to catch his breath.

Aki barely managed to nod, his fingers twitching against your hips. He swallowed hard, his breath coming in short, shallow pants. “Feel good?”

You leaned in, your breath warm against his lips. “Yes,” you murmured.

You kissed him then, slow at first, teasing, pulling his lower lip between your teeth just to feel the way he shivered against you. And god, the way Aki responded—the way he whimpered into your mouth, soft and desperate, the way his hands squeezed at your waist like he couldn’t help himself—made something deep inside you tighten.

Then, just as he was about to speak, you deepened the kiss, swallowing whatever words had been on the tip of his tongue.

His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, pressing into your skin, warm and trembling. He kissed you back just as desperately, just as eagerly, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that was messy, needy, obscene. It was all spit and heat, the sound of it loud in the space between you, but neither of you cared.

He was making the prettiest sounds now, deep and breathy, little desperate sounds escaping between kisses as you continued to roll your hips against him, continued to get his dick all wet, slick pussy grinding up against him. And, fuck, every time the head of it caught just right on your clit, you were shuddering, moaning, clawing at his shoulders.

You pulled back just enough to catch the wrecked expression on his face—his swollen lips, his dark, hazy eyes, the way his breath stuttered as he tried to chase after your mouth.

“You’re so—” Aki exhaled, shaking his head, his fingers pressing into your hips. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

The way he said it, the way he looked at you when he did—it made your stomach twist, made your heart stutter against your ribs. Because it wasn’t just lust in his eyes.

It was desire.

You kissed him again, rougher this time, swallowing his soft, needy moan as he melted further into you.

His hands moved up your back, trailing under your shirt, his palms warm against your skin. He was touching you like he wanted to memorize every inch of you, like he needed to.

When you rocked against him again and cried out his name, Aki broke.

A low, broken whine slipped past his lips, his fingers digging into your skin as his entire body trembled beneath you. His hips jerked up involuntarily, chasing the friction, completely and utterly lost in the feeling of you.

“God,” he gasped, head tilting back, exposing more of his throat to you, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every uneven breath.

You pressed open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, then down his neck, trailing your tongue along the sensitive skin just below his ear.

Aki shuddered violently, his breath hitching as his grip on you tightened.

“You’re…” he exhaled sharply, voice shaking, “You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

You smirked, biting at the skin of his throat just hard enough to make him groan. “Shut up and fuck me, Hayakawa.” you murmured, dragging your nails up his back.

You watched the way his jaw clenched, how his lips parted as he sucked in a shaky breath, his pupils blown wide and dark as he looked at you. Beneath you, he was all sharp edges, tense muscles, every inch of him coiled tight like a wire ready to snap.

Then he smirked. “That’s not how you ask nicely.”

“Please?” You huffed. When he said nothing, you added, “Please fuck me.”

“Yeah? ‘S that what you want?” His voice was rough, low, the condescension barely veiled beneath the rasp of his breath. His nails bit into your skin, but he didn’t move, didn’t push back, just watched you, waiting. “Imagine what everyone else would think if they saw you like this. Running that pretty little mouth, and now look at you – begging for it.”

You scowled, grinding against him harder this time, forcing his breath to hitch. “You’re one to talk.”

Aki exhaled sharply, tipping his head back against the couch, exposing the pale, vulnerable line of his throat. His pulse thrummed beneath the skin, his chest rising and falling in uneven pants. You could see the restraint in him, the way his fingers twitched at your sides, the way his thighs tensed beneath yours.

You moved again, dragging your hips against him in slow, teasing circles, and Aki groaned, low and quiet, his brows knitting together as he exhaled through his nose.

“Keep talking like that.” The word was more breath than voice, and his grip on you tightened. “I’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

God, yes.

You didn’t answer, just rocked against him again, drawing out another strained breath, watching as his body betrayed him. He was holding back, you could tell—forcing himself to stay still, to let you have your fun.

His hands slid down to your thighs, then lower, gripping, squeezing, as if he was debating whether to let you keep going or to take control.

“Who says I don’t want that?” You teased.

Aki huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Think you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” You replied, with all of the misplaced confidence of the boy who cried ‘wolf’.

You barely had time to process the warning before he moved.

In a sharp, fluid motion, he grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back as he sat up, knocking you off balance. His other hand came up to wrap around your throat—not tight, not enough to hurt, but just enough to remind you who was in control.

“Yeah?” Aki murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “We’ll fucking see about that. You think you have the upper hand?”

You swallowed hard, the heat between you unbearable, his thigh pressing up between your legs just enough to make you twitch. His gaze was sharp, teasing, but there was something darker beneath it, something dangerous.

Then, he rolled his hips up into you, slow and deep, and this time, the tip caught on your entrance, just barely breaking through. Your breath faltered, a sharp gasp slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

“There it is,” Aki murmured, his smirk widening. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

You shivered, but he didn’t stop, didn’t let up—just kept teasing your needy hole with the tip, a slow, filthy rhythm that had your stomach twisting, your pulse hammering.

His fingers flexed at your throat, then slid up to cup your jaw, tilting your head back so he could press his lips to your throat. His tongue dragged along your pulse, slow and deliberate, before he bit down, just enough to make you jolt. The stretch was warm and welcoming.

“You always act so tough,” Aki muttered, voice muffled against your skin, “but look at you now.” His lips brushed your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Fucking melting for me. Beg for it.”

He kissed you then, all heat and tongue, his free hand sliding down to grip your waist, holding you still as he moved against you. It was messy, desperate, more spit than finesse, the sound of it loud in the air between you.

Aki groaned into your mouth, and when he slipped in a little deeper, you broke.

His breath hitched, his body shuddering against yours, his grip tightening as he thrust into you harder, deeper, more insistent. The way he was fucking you, you had hardly even noticed that he was halfway in, not until the burn of the stretch caught up to you. Still, maybe it was the sex pollen, but it only took a moment before the pain was replaced with an all-consuming pleasure, a dangerous sense of contentment that came from being filled up to the brim.

Can I take it?

“God, you feel good,” he rasped, voice shaking.

Yes. I can. Finally, you broke.

“Please,” You moaned into his mouth, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and Aki responded instantly, biting at your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before pulling back just enough to look at you. “Give it to me– fuck, I need it.”

Your lips were swollen, slick with spit, your breath coming in sharp, uneven pants.

Aki smirked, running his tongue over his own lips, his eyes drinking you in.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he murmured, and when you glared at him, he chuckled, tilting his head. “What? Don’t like being told the truth, baby?”

Baby.

He called me Baby.

Before you could snap back, he gripped your hips and slid the rest of the way in with a wet sound, and your retort dissolved into a sharp, breathless gasp.

Fuck, you thought. Every inch of you felt like it was on fire – skin burning, eyes half lidded, pussy clenching tirelessly around his dick like it was trying to squeeze him out.

“Yeah,” Aki murmured, voice dark, satisfied. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands slid back down to your thighs, his grip almost bruising now as he rocked into you again, rougher this time, more impatient.

You felt him shudder beneath you, every muscle in his body coiling tight, his breath coming in short, shallow pants.

He kissed you again, biting at your lip, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that was messy, needy, obscene. The friction between you was unbearable, your bodies moving together in a slow, filthy rhythm, neither of you willing to stop. He was filling you out so fucking well that you could do nothing but whimper weakly, fingernails digging into his back.

Aki groaned against your mouth, then pulled back, pressing his forehead to yours as he sucked in a breath, trying to steady himself. “See what happens when you behave? You get…” He thrusted into you again, “What you want.”

You were both trembling now, your fingers tangled in his hair, his grip on your waist unrelenting. You pulled his ponytail out – a bold move on your part – and watched his hair cascade down, falling over his skin, into his eyes, framing his pretty face and, fuck, he looked gorgeous. It made your heart ache.

After a long, heavy pause, Aki exhaled sharply, tilting his head to press his lips to the corner of your mouth, the touch almost—almost—gentle.

“Go on, pretty thing,” he murmured, voice still thick, still breathless, “You want it? Work for it.”

The slow, pulsing heat in your stomach intensified with every word he uttered, and the way Aki was looking at you—his half-lidded eyes heavy with hunger, his breath coming in uneven gasps—made your own breath catch in your throat.

You could feel the weight of his gaze as he watched you closely, the air around you thick with the tension that seemed to wrap around you both, pressing you further into this shared moment. It was almost suffocating, but in the best way.

You leaned back, bracing your feet against the couch to steady yourself. His chest was warm against your back, his hands gripping your waist like he didn’t trust you to pull away, and you could feel the heat of his body seeping through the space between you.

Then, you moved.

It started slow, testing the waters, the tiniest shift of your hips sending a shiver of electricity down your spine. You made the first move, rolling your hips with a care that belied the intense pull between you. The friction was enough to make you gasp, and Aki groaned softly, his hands tightening around you, grounding you in the moment.

The heat was unbearable, and your pace quickened, growing more deliberate, more urgent as you felt yourself chasing after something you couldn’t quite name. You pressed harder, moving faster, your breath coming quicker now, tangled with his, filling the air between you. The world around you faded, everything narrowing until it was just the feeling of him beneath you, of his hands on your skin, of the way his body responded to every roll of your hips.

Aki’s breath hitched, his grip becoming stronger, more desperate. His nails dug into your skin, and you felt the tremor of his body beneath yours, the subtle way his thighs twitched under yours as he tried to stay in control. But he wasn’t as composed as he wanted to be. His head tilted back, and you saw the way his lips parted, the quick, shallow breaths escaping him like he was fighting for air.

"Shit," he hissed, and you could hear the rawness in his voice, the way he struggled to hold onto some semblance of control. But the way he reacted to you—the desperate whimpers escaping him, the way his body arched toward yours—betrayed him.

You moved faster, your hips meeting his with more force now, the sound of skin on skin filling the space between you, and you couldn’t hold back the soft whimper that slipped from your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, the heat building between you until it felt like it was consuming you both.

Aki’s fingers flexed against your skin, pulling you closer, making you feel every inch of his desperation. The way he clung to you, needing you, the way his body strained under yours, spoke volumes.

“Let me hear you,” he urged, his voice rough and thick with need, his hands sliding down to grip your hips harder. “Come on, don’t hold back now.”

You clenched your teeth, biting back the sounds threatening to spill from you, but Aki wasn’t having it. His hand slid up your back, fingers tangling in your hair, tugging you toward him with a pressure that forced your head to tilt back. A gasp slipped from you, and he smiled darkly, lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Don’t you dare be quiet now.”

The intensity of his touch, the way he coaxed you with each move, the teasing in his voice—it all unraveled something deep inside you, and you couldn’t help but respond. Your body moved on its own, desperate for release, for the overwhelming sensation of closeness, of connection.

Aki’s breath came faster, quicker, and you could feel the tension building, tightening in his body as his hands gripped you with a new urgency. He wasn’t just holding you anymore; he was pulling, guiding you, his fingers digging into your flesh like he needed you, needed this moment more than anything.

And then, suddenly, he stopped.

His grip on your hips tightened, halting your movements entirely, and you blinked, disoriented by the sudden shift. Before you could process what was happening, Aki pulled you closer, pressing his forehead against yours, his breathing shaky as he tried to steady himself.

His eyes met yours, dark with desire, pupils wide with the intensity of the moment. There was something raw in his gaze, something that sent a rush of heat straight to your chest. The tension between you hung thick in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved, neither of you spoke.

Then, Aki smirked.

“You’re so fucking easy,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, but there was something more there—something deep and intense. “You just needed a little coaxing, didn’t you?”

His pretty blues were on you a moment later – only you. He blinked slowly. You loved the way they watched you move, rolled back when you rose up and then sank all the way down again. Ass to hips, body to body.

The movement elicited a synchronized gasp from the two of you. He was warm, so warm. It felt as if he was meant to be there – meant to be buried deep inside of you, keeping your needy pussy stuffed to the brim. You were going insane.

You leaned down, lips just brushing against his lower lip. The soft, tantalizing touch was enough to make Aki’s body shudder beneath you. He groaned low in his throat, the sound rough and desperate, vibrating through you, sending a rush of heat flooding to the pit of your stomach. His hand twitched at your side, fingers flexing with the urge to pull you closer, but you lingered, teasing, dragging out the anticipation.

Aki’s breath hitched, and his gaze locked onto yours, his eyes dark and full of that maddening hunger. For a split second, there was a flicker of control in him, but it didn’t last long. With a soft growl, he surged forward, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was at once both demanding and tender, his hands skimming up your body to pull you flush against him. The moment he kissed you, it was as if the world tilted on its axis.

The kiss deepened, becoming more frantic, as if both of you had been holding back for far too long. His lips moved with a hunger that made your heart race, each brush of his tongue against yours sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His hands roamed, not harsh or rough, but deliberate—touching you like he was memorizing every inch of your skin. The sensation of his warmth against yours, the way he gripped you with such certainty, made your skin flush, your pulse quicken.

You shifted slightly, moving just enough to create friction between you, a slow roll of your hips that had you both gasping. The air between you was thick with heat, the scent of his skin mingling with yours, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips. Aki’s fingers tightened on your waist, not forcing, but holding you steady as if he needed something to ground himself in the chaos of your connection.

Every movement, every shift, brought more of that undeniable tension, that pull between you that was becoming impossible to ignore. You were moving together now, the rhythm slow at first, then gradually gaining momentum, as if your bodies were in perfect sync with each other. Every inch of friction between you was electric, sending shivers down your spine. You both breathed in time, the heat of your bodies pressing closer, making it harder to think, to focus on anything other than the way your bodies fit together so naturally.

Aki’s breathing grew uneven, his chest rising and falling against yours, his lips brushing against your jaw, the side of your neck. Each exhale was like a soundless prayer, each inhale a plea for more. There was something desperate in the way he moved, something raw and unfiltered. His hands never stopped, never slowed, sliding over your skin like he couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t touch you enough.

The kiss broke for a moment, just long enough for Aki to pull back slightly, just enough to look at you with that same half-lidded, darkened expression, his gaze searing into yours. You could feel the weight of his stare, the way it made you flush even more, your heart hammering in your chest. He looked at you like he wanted to devour you, to take every piece of you in until there was nothing left but the two of you, tangled together in the chaos you had both created.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, a rough edge to it that made your pulse spike even more. “You feel so fucking good.”

You could barely form words, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you shifted once more, rocking your hips slowly against him. You had no idea how you were even holding it together, how you weren’t unraveling completely, but the way he looked at you, the way he kissed you, made you feel as though you were hanging by a thread.

His grip tightened, and before you could process it, he pulled you even closer, his hands sliding down your back to your hips, his fingers digging in just enough to leave a mark. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Don’t go quiet on me now,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire, teasing in a way that made your chest tighten. “I want to hear everything. I want you to feel it. All of it.”

A sudden rush of heat hit your chest at his words. It was too much, too overwhelming. The way he said it, the way he wanted you to feel everything, made something inside of you shift. You moved faster now, pushing yourself further against him, desperate to chase that feeling, desperate to make the world fade away, to make everything else disappear until there was nothing left but the two of you.

The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, the rhythm growing faster, more desperate. Aki’s hands were everywhere, guiding you, holding you, as you both worked to keep up with the growing urgency between you. Your breath came in short, shallow bursts as you pushed yourself harder, faster, the ache inside of you building, intensifying with each movement.

Aki groaned low in his throat, the sound like a plea, like a warning. His grip on you tightened, pulling you even closer, until there was no space between you at all. His body arched into yours, and you could feel the tension in him, the strain of holding back, of trying to stay composed while everything inside of him was unraveling.

“God,” he hissed, his fingers digging into your hips, the breath he took hitching. “Look at you.”

It was the raw honesty of his words, the desperation in them, that finally broke whatever little composure you had left. You moved faster, harder, and the world around you seemed to fade into nothingness. There was only the two of you, tangled together in the haze of desire, your bodies acting on instinct now, each touch, each movement, pulling you further into the overwhelming tension between you.

He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that.

“Aki, baby, baby–” you babbled.

So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin.

The couch bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster.

It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life.

“Fuck,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”

He’s losing it, too.

You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.

You bet you looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick. Throwing your head back, you groaned, “So… So f-fucking good–”

“Take it, just like that,” he commanded. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips.

Louder and louder. You were practically screaming for him.

You had no idea that sex could even feel this way. You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly.

“FUCK!”

There it was. That sweet, beautiful spot so deep inside of you that only he seemed to be able to scratch. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Sir– m’close–”

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, like he knew. He kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.

He ran his tongue over his thumb, nasty thing he was, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the oversensitive nub in quick, expert circles.

One look up at the wooden ceiling, and you knew you were close to your breaking point. You felt like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.

You felt like you were in love.

Aki sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster.

“Aki–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Fuck, just like that!”

“I got you,” He gasped back into your mouth. “I got you – you gonna cum for me?”

You were so hot. He made you feel things– feel like you were dying over and over again in the best way possible.

“Yeah, fuck, please– Can I?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “Can I cum?”

“Do it,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “Let me – fuck– hear you.”

You would have done anything he asked you to, at that point.

Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Aki–”, you assumed he understood.

“Ah–!” And that was all it took. Aki rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it.

So much that you felt it drip out.

But then, just as you thought you couldn’t go any further, Aki’s hands gripped you firmly, pulling you back against him, his breath ragged as he pressed his forehead to yours, his body trembling beneath yours. He didn’t say a word for a long moment, just held you there, both of you breathless, barely able to process the intensity of what had just happened.

You could feel the weight of the moment settle between you, the unspoken connection, the undeniable truth that neither of you could ignore. His fingers brushed against your skin one last time, and you both stopped, breathless, bodies still trembling, caught between the aftershocks of what you had just shared.

The room felt heavy, the air charged with the electricity of everything unsaid. Your skin still tingled from the earlier moments, each nerve alight with the aftershocks of what you’d shared, but Aki wasn’t finished. Not yet. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts, as his hands slid lower on your body.

“We’re not done yet,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, carrying the weight of both command and desire. His hands gripped your hips, tugging you closer, as he took in another shaky breath, his chest rising and falling beneath you.

The sex pollen was still working on you, and, again, the urge returned.

He was still trembling, the evidence of how much you had affected him clear in the way his fingers dug into your flesh, desperate, almost frantic. The tension between you both was unmistakable, as if you were standing on the edge of something much larger, something deeper, and neither of you could pull back now.

You let out a breath, still processing what had just happened, but his next words made your stomach flip with anticipation.

“Lay down,” he ordered softly, his voice commanding yet laced with something more tender underneath.

“How?” You asked.

“Face down, baby,” He replied.

The simplicity of the words sent a spark of heat through your spine, and you obeyed, feeling the muscles in your body tense as you shifted into the position he had requested. Your feet found the ground, the cool fabric of the couch beneath you grounding you as Aki’s hands worked to arch your back, coaxing your body into a curve that made your breath hitch.

His touch was deliberate, careful, but there was an undeniable urgency behind it, as if he were trying to tame the rawness of the moment. His hands slid across your back, fingers caressing your skin before settling against your hips once more, grounding you in place.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The only sound was the uneven rhythm of your breaths mingling with the low hum of the room. Aki’s eyes were dark with desire, pupils blown wide, a faint flicker of amusement mixed with something much deeper—something that felt like hunger. His gaze never left you, taking in every inch of your body, every tiny shiver you couldn’t control.

Then, slowly, just as you thought the air was too thick to bear, Aki’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you back, aligning your bodies in a slow, deliberate motion. He pressed his pelvis against yours, and the moment he slipped into you again, a sharp gasp left your lips. The heat between you surged again, a pulse of warmth spreading from the place where you were joined. His body felt like fire against yours, the friction sending another wave of sensation coursing through you.

Fuck, it felt so much deeper from this angle – you were going dumb. Your brain had all but shut off by this point.

He groaned against your skin, his voice muffled as he pulled you closer, his grip tightening.

You shuddered as his hips began to move in slow, steady strokes, the rhythm steady but building in intensity with each passing second. He rolled his hips again, and the friction sent a tremor through your body, your fingers curling against the couch beneath you. You tried to hold yourself steady, but the sensation was almost too much to bear.

The pleasure built, slow at first, teasing, as Aki set the pace. He moved with calculated precision, his hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you in place as he thrust into you, dragging his body along yours. Every plap of his hips meeting your ass sent jolts of sensation rippling through your spine, the heat of it spreading like wildfire, making your body arch into him, instinctively chasing the pleasure that was now inevitable.

Your breath quickened, the sounds of your gasps mingling with the sound of his steady, ragged breaths. His hands moved to your sides, gripping you tightly, his fingers digging into your skin. You could feel the strength of him, the raw need that pulsed through him with every movement.

“Fuck,” he whispered, the word barely escaping his lips as he pushed deeper, the sensation overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the moan that slipped from your throat. You felt the heat of his breath against the back of your neck, the pulse of his body pressing against yours, and the overwhelming sensation of him moving in and out, each stroke deliberate, making your body tremble beneath him.

You gasped for air, feeling the tension coil tighter and tighter inside you. His hands moved down, gripping your thighs, pulling them apart as he shifted, his thrusts coming faster now, deeper, his body moving with a rhythm that was both punishing and intoxicating while he leaned into you.

There was nothing else. There was nothing but the sensation, the relentless pressure of his body, and the pull of his touch, guiding you, taking you deeper.

You whimpered, unable to hold back the sound as your body began to respond instinctively, your hips moving to meet his, chasing the ache that you could feel building inside you. The tension was almost unbearable now, a desperate need that only he could fulfill.

Aki’s hand found the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair and pulling you back, exposing the sensitive skin at your throat. You gasped, the sensation sending a fresh wave of heat through your body, and your fingers dug into the couch, grounding yourself as he continued to move against you.

His lips were on your skin again, the heat of them pressing against your pulse, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “You feel that?” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “You fucking feel me, Baby?”

The words, the intensity in his voice, made your head spin, and your body trembled beneath him, each movement a delicate push and pull as you struggled to hold onto whatever control you thought you had.

“Yes!” You cried out. “Fuck, yes!”

He was filthy.

The brutal pace continued, relentless, steady, and the pressure built in ways that left you gasping for air. His body pressed against yours, urging you forward, urging you to meet him. The slow, steady rhythm became faster, more urgent, the sounds of your breaths and the movement between you blending into a symphony of need.

You reached back, hands searching for his hips, as if that would make him slow down. Instead, he grabbed your wrist…

And pinned it behind your back, using it as leverage to fuck you a little harder, a little deeper.

“Fuck me!” You practically sobbed, voice muffled by the couch.

You weren’t going to be able to walk after this.

But, fuck, it would all have been worth it.

“You’re–” You panted, turning your head back to look at him, hair disheveled, expression totally debauched while you took him from behind. “You’re fucking nasty.”

“Wish you could see how you look from this angle,” He replied. “I thought you said you could take it, hmm?”

And then, as you were about to unravel completely, Aki’s grip tightened, pulling you closer, burying himself deeper, and the world tilted on its axis.

“FUCK–” You shuddered, practically screaming into the junction of your elbow, doing everything you could to muffle the sounds coming from your mouth.

“You can do it for me,” He cooed. “I know you can. You’re gonna take all of it, aren’t you?”

You would. You would take all of it and so much more, whatever would make him keep on drilling you into the couch like this, fucking you past your breaking point. You were beyond overstimulated. Your mind was blissfully, achingly empty.

“You’re–” You gasped, “Fucking… the shit out of me-e.”

You were gonna cum again. You felt that ball building up all over again. At the same time, you simply weren’t sure that you had another one in you.

The heat between you and Aki was palpable, a pressure that seemed to hang in the air, thick and heavy. Every breath you took felt like it reverberated in the space between you, deep and electric. He had you pressed against him, his grip on your waist unyielding, his body still trembling under the weight of what had just transpired.

But even with the heat of the moment still lingering, there was a gnawing hunger inside you. Aki's presence was overwhelming, and despite the exhaustion from before, the fire in you hadn’t quite been quenched. It was still there, raw and desperate, as if it were bound to him in a way that you couldn’t quite understand.

You felt that knot tightening in your stomach again, threatening to build into something more. Your body was still sensitive, alive with every sensation, yet the intensity had you questioning whether you could keep going. It was a blur of pleasure, pressure, and need.

“I can’t,” you gasped, voice trembling. The thought of going through it again felt impossible, your body still reeling from the first wave.

Aki’s gaze sharpened, a low chuckle escaping his lips. “You can. I know you can.” His words were like a command, a reassurance that you couldn’t ignore. “Do it for me. I want to see you fall apart.”

His voice was smooth, coaxing, but there was no mistaking the authority in it. You felt his hands tighten on your waist, shifting you slightly. Before you could protest, his hips ground against you again, the sudden movement making you gasp, your body reacting almost instinctively. You were overwhelmed, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggled to find your breath.

The way he moved against you was relentless, pushing you further into the sensation. Every motion seemed to set your body on fire, your mind slipping into a haze of pleasure and raw need. Aki wasn’t letting up, and you could hear the strain in his breath, the tension building as he drove you both closer to the edge.

"That’s it," he murmured, low and dark, his voice wrapping around you like a tightening coil. "I know you feel it too."

You were gasping now, your hands gripping the couch beneath you for stability, but there was no escape from the tidal wave of feeling. Aki’s body pressed into yours with a force that had you gasping for air, each movement sending shockwaves through your body, intensifying everything. You gripped the couch, shifting away from him like that would calm him down.

“You running from me? I thought you said you could handle it.” His words were edged with something teasing, a quiet challenge as he continued to fuck into you, the overstimulation dizzying.

You could only moan, unable to form coherent words, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. Aki’s grip tightened again, holding you in place as his movements became even more deliberate, each thrust pushing you further into the mess of sensations. His low groan sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but shudder beneath him.

Every inch of you felt alive, raw, and vulnerable, your thoughts fragmented as pleasure rippled through you. The room felt like it was closing in around you, everything becoming a blur of heat and tension. Your body moved in tandem with his, matching his rhythm, though you felt like you were barely hanging on.

Aki’s eyes darkened, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his hand slid up your back, fingers curling into your skin. “That’s it. Keep going,” he encouraged, the words almost a command, and you could hear the barely contained lust in his tone. “Make a mess of me.”

The sound of your skin meeting his, the rush of your breath, the intensity of every movement—it was all consuming, and you couldn’t think anymore. You were lost in it, in the rush of everything, feeling the pressure build again, too strong to resist.

A few more harsh thrusts, and you were teetering over the edge. A few more, and you were dripping for him, dripping down your thighs, dripping onto the couch below.

“Come on,” He gasped out.

You answered, “I can’t”

You were close. So close that you could feel the train coming an awful lot sooner than you expected.

“Yes, you can,” He said again. “I know you can. Tell me you can take it.”

You bit back a moan, feeling your legs begin to tremble again with the weight of your impending release. You were close, too close to resist him. You glanced back at him, watching as his mouth parted to release a shaky gasp of your name. He made it look so pretty, so sinful. His legs shook against the back of your own. The muscles in his abdomen tensed up.

Guess I'm not the only one getting close to losing it.

"Fu-uck–" You gasped out as he landed a spank on your ass. "I can." His eyes met yours in a lustful daze.

His.

You were getting closer now. The coil in your stomach was pulled as tight as it could go. "Mmh- please!"

“Cum for me, baby,” He growled into your ear, leaning over to press a kiss to your neck. “Show me.”

Finally, you cried, “Oh god– ‘M cumming– Oh, God, I’m cumming!”

The coil snapped, and your hips jolted rhythmically against him. You felt your walls clench around his dick, a sensation that made him lurch forward and reach his own orgasm.

This one hit you even harder than before, wave after wave of powerful pleasure shooting through you at the speed of light – back arching as he spilled into you.

He went for your lips again immediately after, kissing you softly while the two of you came down from your high. He kissed you breathlessly, passionately, like he would die if he stopped, keeping your head craned back by the hair, arm twisted behind your back.

But just as you felt like you might shatter, Aki stilled, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you in place. He stilled, shooting his load inside of you in a way that had you mewling, clawing at the couch.

You could feel him trembling beneath you, just as undone as you were, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of both your heavy breathing, the world outside forgotten.

Your bodies were still, the air thick with the aftershocks of what had just passed between you. Both of you were breathless, struggling to catch your breath, the weight of the moment settling between you.

Before you could even process the quiet, Aki flipped you over with surprising ease, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was fierce, desperate, as though he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands pulling him closer, needing the connection, the heat, the affirmation that you were both still there, still together in this unspoken understanding.

His fingers slid through your hair, pulling you even closer, as his kiss deepened, hungry and full of everything that had built up between you. The world outside seemed to disappear entirely, and it was just the two of you, your bodies, your breaths, your hearts. Everything else faded away.

Christ, he has stamina.

Who is this devil and what did he do with the Captain?

When you finally pulled apart, gasping for air, his eyes were dark with desire, his chest rising and falling beneath you. "I knew you could do it," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You were going to kill the devil that got you into this. Then, well, you were going to thank it – because holy shit.

You lay on the couch, twitching uselessly.

“You doing okay?” He asked.

“Mhmmm…” You drawled, eyes fluttering shut, blissfully unaware of the outside world. Nothing else mattered, right now – nothing but you, him, the lack of space between you, and the warm ache in your bones.

But then he shifted.

The couch dipped beneath his weight as he moved, and then his hands—large, strong, warm—bracketed either side of you, caging you in as he crawled over you. A slow, deliberate movement. He wanted you to feel it.

Your breath hitched.

And then his lips—soft but insistent—pressed to the delicate curve of your neck.

You gasped, the sound escaping before you could stop it, a soft, shivering little thing. Your pulse thrummed beneath his mouth, betraying you. He must’ve felt it because he chuckled, low and knowing, his breath fanning against your skin.

"Still want more, huh?" His voice was a lazy drawl, teasing.

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into the fabric beneath you. Your body answered before your mind could catch up—your hips shifting slightly, pressing up toward him, seeking.

He caught it immediately, of course.

His smirk deepened, and his fingers ghosted down your side, tracing the dips and curves of your waist, slow enough to make you shudder.

“Mhm…” you managed, barely more than a breath.

He made a quiet sound, something between a hum and a chuckle, his thumb brushing idly against your ribs.

"Words, pretty.” His voice was softer now, coaxing, but laced with something firm, something that made your stomach tighten. “Tell me what you want."

Your breath stuttered. Your lips parted, but your tongue felt thick in your mouth, your thoughts slow, muddled.

“Need…” you whispered, barely conscious of the sound of your own voice, “more.”

His brow lifted, his smirk curling at the edges. He tilted his head, considering you, his gaze dark and unreadable. "Yeah? Still?"

You nodded, slow, dazed.

“Aww, needy girl.” His tone was dripping in mock sympathy, but there was something else underneath it too—something darker, something delighted. His thumb traced along your jaw, tilting your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “Go on, then… tell me how bad you need it.”

Your throat bobbed. You felt drunk on him, completely undone beneath the weight of his stare. But you didn’t hesitate this time.

"I need more," you whispered, raw with desperation.

His lips parted slightly, his lashes lowering, but he didn’t answer right away. His gaze dragged over your face, drinking in your expression—the way your lips trembled, the way your breath hitched, the way your eyes were wide, pleading.

"Again," he murmured.

A small whimper escaped you. You squeezed your eyes shut, swallowing past the lump in your throat.

“I need…” The words caught, the weight of them thick in your mouth, your pride wavering. “I need more. Please.”

His fingers flexed against your jaw. He exhaled sharply, his voice barely above a murmur when he spoke.

“Please, what?”

Your pulse roared in your ears. You hesitated for a fraction of a second.

Then—

"Please, sir…"

Something in his expression shifted. His smirk sharpened, his eyes darkening, filling with something electric, something wicked.

"Atta girl." His voice was low, almost approving, almost affectionate.

And then he was pressing closer, settling fully between your thighs, the heat of him seeping into your skin. This time, face to face.

And God—his expression. The way his brows knit together, the way his lips parted as he slipped the tip in, the sharp little exhale he let out when he shifted against you. He was beautiful like this, half-lidded and completely caught up in the moment, the teasing edge in his eyes melting into something hazier, something softer.

And you—

You could barely breathe. Could barely think.

Could only watch him unravel, just as much as you were.

The moment his body pressed against yours, heat bloomed beneath your skin like wildfire. Every nerve was alive, sensitive, attuned to him. You gasped softly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back as you sought to pull him closer, to feel more of him.

Aki let out a slow, shuddering breath, his weight settling over you, the heat of his bare chest pressed flush against yours. His breath fanned over your jaw, warm and teasing as he nuzzled in, lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“You always this desperate?” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “Can’t even wait a second?”

You let out a shaky breath, unable to find the words. Instead, you rolled your hips up, pressing into him, seeking that friction that sent sparks racing up your spine.

Aki groaned, low and guttural, fingers tightening around your waist. “So greedy,” he muttered. “Can’t get enough, can you?”

You whimpered, arching into him, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Please,” you breathed.

He huffed a quiet laugh, lips brushing against your throat. “Already begging?” He shifted his hips, rolling against you with slow, deliberate pressure that made your breath stutter. “Didn’t take much, huh?”

Your hands curled into his back, nails scraping lightly. “Need more,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

Aki clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Not good enough.” His fingers dug into your hips, holding you still as he ground against you at an agonizing pace. “You want something, you say it properly.”

You gasped, body trembling under him. “I need it,” you choked out. “I need you.”

A wicked smirk played at his lips. “Yeah?” He rutted against you harder, dragging a strangled moan from your throat. “Still not convinced.”

You swallowed hard, heat coiling in your stomach. “Please,” you rasped. “Please, Aki—”

He groaned, a sound that sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. “That’s better.” His grip tightened, fingers bruising as he pinned you beneath him, his hips pressing flush against yours. “But I think you can do even better.”

Before you could respond, his hand was at your throat, fingers wrapping around the delicate column and squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. The world narrowed to the sensation of his grip, the dizzying rush of heat that followed, the way your pulse pounded against his fingers.

“Look at you,” he mused, eyes dark with satisfaction. “All fucked-out already.”

Your vision blurred, head spinning, and just when it felt like you might lose yourself completely—he released you. Air flooded back into your lungs, and the rush of euphoria was overwhelming.

Aki chuckled, dragging his fingers down your throat, his touch deceptively gentle. “Bet you’d let me do anything to you right now.”

He’s so dirty. You whimpered, nodding weakly, unable to form words.

“Thought so,” he murmured. “So easy.” His lips ghosted over your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “So desperate to be ruined.”

Your stomach flipped, heat pooling between your legs as he rolled his hips again, slow and devastating. He was watching you closely, his violet eyes hungry, possessive, like he wanted to devour you whole.

“Plea–ease,” You stuttered out.

“Where’s that attitude?” he taunted, his voice a low purr. “Thought you hated me.”

A breathless whine escaped you, your fingers clutching at his strong, toned arms.

His movements became more insistent, his hips pressing into yours with a slow, relentless rhythm that sent you spiraling into sensation. You clung to him, fingers twisting into his hair as he pressed kisses along your jawline, down the column of your throat, his teeth scraping lightly against your pulse.

“Fuck—” he breathed, voice strained. “You feel so good.”

A shiver ran through you, your body arching into his as he held you tighter, the heat of him overwhelming. His hands roamed, tracing the curves of your body, mapping every inch like he was memorizing you. Every brush of his fingertips sent sparks racing through your veins.

Your breath hitched as he gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head. “You don’t get to touch me,” he said, voice low and commanding. “Not yet.”

You whimpered at the loss of contact, your body aching for more, for anything he would give you.

He smirked, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Good girl.”

The praise sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your head swimming with desire. He moved against you again, his pace torturously slow, dragging every moment out until you were trembling beneath him, every nerve burning with need.

“You like it when I take my time with you, don’t you?” he murmured, lips ghosting over your ear. “When I make you wait?”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah-ah-ah!”

Aki grinned, his teeth grazing your jawline. The manner in which he moved was remarkably feline. “That’s what I thought.”

His hand slid back to your throat, fingers wrapping around it once more, squeezing just enough to make your vision blur. The rush of sensation was intoxicating, sending you spiraling into bliss as he pressed into you, pistoning you into the couch, driving you past your limit, his breath ragged against your skin.

“Look at you,” he mused, his voice rough. “Falling apart for me.”

Your body trembled beneath him, every thrust, every movement sending you deeper into sensation, into him.

Aki loosened his grip, letting you breathe again, and the rush of air filled your lungs like fire. He watched you carefully, his navy eyes dark with hunger as he took in the way you gasped, the way your body arched into him, desperate for more.

“Fuck… look at it,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “‘S like you were made to take me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as he pushed a little further, his rhythm deep and unrelenting. Your fingers curled into the fabric below, your body burning with sensation, with the overwhelming need for more.

He gripped you by the hair, craning your gaze down to the junction between your bodies, to the place where he was disappearing in out of you. It was a vulgar sight, a messy one, too – he was coated in an obscene mixture of your wetness and his cum, a fluid that made a lewd ‘schlick’ sound every time his navel bumped up against your clit. Every movement, every thrust pushed his warm seed deeper and deeper into your needy pussy.

Aki groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “So fucking perfect,” he whispered. “Can’t get enough of you.”

You gasped sharply as he shifted beneath you, the change in his movements subtle but powerful. His grip tightened around your hips, the pressure of his hands grounding you in a way that made your breath catch. Each motion of his was deliberate, calculated, as he pressed into you harder, deeper, until the world outside of this moment seemed to disappear. All you could feel was him—his warmth, his breath, the way his body moved against yours with an intensity that left you breathless, desperate for more.

"Aki," you whispered, your voice trembling as it fought to keep its composure, as if that one breath could shatter everything you were trying to hold onto.

His response was immediate, a quiet promise in the way he spoke your name. "I’m here," he murmured, his lips brushing against your shoulder in a soft kiss. "I got you."

A flicker of mischief glimmered in his eyes, his fingers lightly brushing over your puffy clit, tracing the curve of your skin with the same deliberate slowness that seemed to melt away all of your resolve. You squealed involuntarily, the sensation tingling across your skin, as if he knew exactly how to pull the smallest reactions from you – you were overstimulated beyond comprehension. Every touch, every thrust sent sparks flying, colors dancing across your eyelids. A warning bubbled in your chest, something within you telling him that something was coming, something that would leave you breathless in its wake.

But before you could even say another word, it happened. Your back arched, your body seizing with a burst of sensation so overwhelming that you couldn’t hold back the scream that tore itself from your throat, his name escaping you in a rush… and you were gushing on him, on the couch.

"Aki!" you cried, your body trembling in the aftershocks of that release, the rawness of it all lingering between your breaths.

He watched you, his grin widening as he took in the sight of you, the way your body responded to him. It wasn’t just the physicality that seemed to fuel him, but the intimacy of the moment—the way you trusted him, the way he could unravel you with a single touch. His eyes darkened with desire as he leaned down, kissing you softly, tenderly.

“So fucking hot,” he whispered against your lips.

And still, he kept moving. His hips met yours in a steady rhythm, each thrust, each push only drawing you closer, until you were lost once more in the feeling of him, in the rhythm of your bodies and the steady, aching longing that tethered you to him, making it impossible to think of anything else but the way he made you feel.

Then your legs were over his shoulders and he was pressing your thighs back into the couch, and fuck. He was fucking you into the ground.

You were all but crying at this point, eyes running, fluttering open and closed, overwhelmed by the stimulation. You were shaking like a leaf, too.

Meanwhile, he seemed to be nearing his breaking point, too – utterly debauched, face flushed, eyes scanning over your body like he would die if he looked away from you.

He didn't slow down, even as you trembled beneath him, still feeling the remnants of the pleasure he'd drawn out of you. Instead, he gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin, and started moving again, slow at first, deliberately deep, each thrust sending new shocks of pleasure coursing through you. The rhythm was teasing, like he was savoring your reactions, drawing them out of you one breath at a time.

You could barely catch your breath, your body responding to him without thought, without control. He was pushing you to the edge again, each pull, each grind against you a new wave, a new rush of heat. You squirmed, your back arching involuntarily, but he was already ahead of you, keeping you in place, his grip tightening, not letting you escape the delicious tension he was building.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with a mix of affection and something darker, a teasing note beneath his words that made your pulse quicken. “So fucking good.”

His hands roamed, fingers trailing down your body, tracing every curve, teasing you like he was studying you—every reaction, every quiver of your skin. When his thumb brushed over the sensitive spot just beneath your navel, you gasped, and his grin only widened. “You like that, don’t you?” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk as he watched you writhe beneath him, unable to suppress the desperate sounds that slipped from your mouth.

You tried to hold on, to control yourself, but it was futile. His movements were too deliberate, too precise. The pressure built again, coiling inside you, but this time, there was something different about it—something more intense, more eager. His pace picked up, faster now, with each thrust sending you higher, closer to the brink of madness. He kept going, pushing you forward, driving you into a frenzy of need, while still holding you just out of reach of release.

“Come on,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “I know you can do better than that.”

The challenge in his words only made everything worse, your mind hazy and clouded with lust as you tried to keep up, to meet him with the same intensity. But your body betrayed you, trembling with each movement, helpless against the rush of sensation. His teasing never stopped. His hand moved to your chest, lightly pinching your nipple, a small, almost cruel gesture that made your entire body jerk in response. He chuckled softly, watching you squirm beneath him, his eyes dark with amusement. “Give it to me, pretty, give me one more.,” he muttered, almost to himself, but loud enough for you to hear.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there before kissing his way down to your collarbone. The sensation of his lips on your skin sent a new wave of heat spiraling through you, but it only seemed to make the ache in your body more unbearable. Every nerve was on fire, every part of you straining for more, but still, he held you in that delicious, painful tension, refusing to let you go completely.

You whimpered, your body shifting beneath him, trying to find a way to escape the pressure he was creating, but he only grinned, holding you closer, making sure you couldn't get away. "Ah ah…" he whispered, his voice filled with dark amusement as he teased you with every movement, every word.

Your hands grasped the sheets, your breath coming faster, your whole body trembling from the intensity of it. You could barely form a coherent thought as the tension inside you grew, your body on the verge of breaking, desperate for the release he was still withholding. “Please,” you begged, the word slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

He chuckled again, low and satisfied. “You close again already?” he teased, his voice dripping with mock innocence as he slowed down, as if he were savoring every moment of your desperation.

His voice was a challenge, a question that had no easy answer. The teasing, the slow, torturous buildup was all part of it, part of the game he was playing, and you were helpless to resist. You wanted to scream, to beg him to stop holding you back, but you also wanted him to keep going, to keep making you feel this way.

“Come on, baby,” He panted. “Just one more. Come on.”

You couldn’t. Surely, you couldn’t.

And then, just as you thought you might lose yourself, he pushed you over the edge again. His pace increased, and this time, he didn’t hold back. He was driving into you with relentless force, pulling every last ounce of pleasure from you until your body couldn’t take it anymore. You cried out, your body jerking beneath him, every inch of you writhing in a final, explosive release that left you gasping for air, trembling uncontrollably.

He didn’t stop. Not even as your body shook, still responding to him, still caught in the aftershocks of your pleasure. His voice was quiet now, almost gentle, as he whispered praises into your ear, reminding you of how good you were, how perfect you were for him. And then, with one last, final thrust, he followed you into release, his own breath ragged as he let go, the tension in his body finally snapping. He filled you to the brim, searing white-hot and mind-boggling.

You both stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily, your bodies still entwined, the world around you slow to return to reality. The aftershock of what had just happened lingered in the air like static, your muscles still trembling from the intensity, but there was a sense of deep, shared satisfaction between you. The teasing, the games, the challenges—it had all led to this. And though you could barely form a coherent thought, some part of you knew it was exactly what you both needed. You were both wrecked, in the best way possible.

His hands gently stroked your back, the tender motions easing the tension that had built up between you two. It was a stark contrast to the ferocity that had just unfolded, and for a brief moment, you could almost believe the world had shifted, leaving only the two of you in this hazy, slow-moving bubble of intimacy. You almost felt like you could see hearts swimming in his eyes when you locked gazes, the connection between you two too deep to ignore, even if just for a moment. Everything felt suspended, everything blurred. You were still caught in the fog of it all.

"Shit," he murmured, a soft laugh mixed with satisfaction in his voice. His smile was lazy, and there was something in his eyes that spoke volumes—something between awe and pride, like he was just as lost in this as you were. "I knew you could take it."

You couldn’t even respond, your body completely wrecked, utterly destroyed from everything he'd done to you. You were practically useless, unable to speak with anything coherent. All you could manage was a weak, breathless mumble, the remnants of a groan escaping your lips.

I’m fucking ruined.

It didn’t matter, though. Some part of you felt oddly relieved, as though the constant ache and tension you’d been holding inside of you had finally been released. The itch, the hunger, the need that had driven you—it was finally gone, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you were at peace.

You felt his fingers light, moving from your back to your shoulder, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. He shifted then, pulling away just enough to grab a cigarette from his pack, the flame flickering in the quiet of the room. He inhaled slowly, his gaze never leaving you as the smoke curled around him. The haze in your mind was starting to lift, but it didn’t feel like reality was rushing back. Instead, it felt like you were floating just a little above it, the quiet aftermath still soothing you.

He exhaled, his tone casual, like the world hadn’t just turned upside down for both of you. "I think we’re pretty screwed, huh?" he said, a sigh slipping from his lips as he looked at you with that uncharacteristic grin, one that made your pulse race again.

You could hardly process his words, let alone speak. Your thoughts were still jumbled, but somehow the laughter felt right.

You tried to smile back, your own weak attempt at humor, but then you froze. There was a sound, faint at first, but unmistakable. The unmistakable click of a lock.

Your heart skipped a beat. You looked toward the door in panic, eyes wide as the fog in your mind began to clear, only for the sharp reality of the situation to hit you like a ton of bricks. Oh shit. You’d just… you’d just done that.

With your superior.

You could feel your body go cold with the realization.

I just fucked my captain.

The one I’m supposed to hate.

The door unlocking—the world rushing back.

"I think the door just unlocked," he hummed, completely unbothered, as though he hadn’t just put you through the wringer. His voice was casual, almost teasing, but you could see the glint of mischief in his eyes.

Your pulse quickened as panic flooded your chest. You sat up, pulling away from him, your breath coming faster, rushing to cover yourself. "Oh my god…," you mumbled, a mix of disbelief and anxiety running through your veins. "I—We just fucked. What the hell is happening?"

He took another drag from his cigarette, watching you with an amused expression. "It was the pollen," he said, as if that was some kind of excuse. "Don’t be hard on yourself. I think the devil wanted to distract us." He said it like it was all some cosmic joke, some kind of twisted fate that had led you here, but there was a softness to his words that made it hard to fight against.

No shit.

You could only nod, your mind still reeling, but it was impossible to ignore the strange way his words calmed you—maybe not entirely, but enough to keep you from freaking out too much. "Well… it worked," you muttered, the words barely leaving your lips as you tried to piece together the chaos of what had just unfolded.

It worked, and to make matters worse, you fucking loved it.

It had been everything you’d ever dreamt of.

He laughed, a low sound that made the back of your neck tingle. "God," he said, his grin widening. You had scarcely seen him smile before, "I think you might be the best lay I’ve ever had."

You couldn’t help but laugh, your body still trying to process everything, the nervousness creeping back in. You swatted at him, half-amused, half-embarrassed, trying to push away the compliment that felt just a little too much. "Shut up," you muttered, playfully swatting at him again, though there was no real heat behind it.

His chuckle was light, but his hand moved to gently grab your wrist, holding it for just a moment. His eyes softened, that teasing glint still there but mixed with something else, something deeper—almost caring. "You… are you okay?”

“Yeah, I…” You trailed off.

The compliment landed differently this time, like a gentle push into your chest, grounding you as the moment between you two slowly began to shift. You couldn’t think about the situation too much; you couldn’t, not yet – unless you wanted to fall in love with him (you knew the kind of person you were). But when you met his gaze again, the playfulness had faded, and something else lingered. It was as if you both understood that what had happened had a weight to it, one that you weren’t quite ready to unpack.

Still, you could feel it—the connection. That undeniable tension between you two.

“Fuck,” You sighed, chest heavy with the weight of what you had just done.

And he, clearly realizing the same thing, agreed, “Fuck.”

The group was waiting for you both up ahead, Himeno, Denji, and Power talking amongst themselves as you approached. You swallowed hard, praying that the tension on your face wasn’t too obvious, praying they couldn’t see the aftermath of everything you’d just experienced written across your expressions.

Aki had fixed his hair, smoothing it back with practiced ease, his movements precise, even as his mind seemed to be elsewhere. You had done your best to follow suit, straightening your clothes, tugging at your blazer in an attempt to cover up the fact that he’d nearly torn the bottom of your shirt open. The top buttons were intact, thank god, and the rest were conveniently tucked away beneath your jacket, hiding the evidence of the moment you two had just shared.

You both exchanged a brief, silent glance, as if to check if you were both ready to play it off. You had no idea how to explain yourselves to the others, but it didn’t matter right now. The only thing that mattered was getting back to them, blending in, acting like everything was normal.

As you joined the group, Himeno turned to you, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She slowed down, her pace matching yours as she casually glanced between you and Aki, then leaned in a bit closer. "So," she started, her tone teasing, "you guys take your sweet time up there or what?"

You froze for a split second. You tried to push past the nervousness bubbling up inside you. "What do you mean?" you asked, trying to sound casual, your voice cracking slightly. “We were stuck.”

Himeno’s nose twitched as she paused mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as she sniffed the air. "You smell like Aki," she said with a knowing smile.

Your stomach dropped. There was no hiding it. You could almost feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but you fought to maintain your composure. "Do I?" you asked, trying to play it off, but even your own voice felt strained, unsure. "That’s weird."

"Yeah..." Himeno wiggled her eyebrows, her grin widening into something teasing and playful. "Or maybe the two of you were playing Seven Minutes while the rest of us were busting ass?"

The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, sending a wave of heat and panic through your body. You could feel Aki’s presence beside you, tense and still, but he said nothing. You wished the ground would swallow you whole as Himeno's words sank in.

There’s no way she knows.

"Shut up," you hissed, unable to hide the flush creeping up your neck, mortified beyond belief.

"I’m just kiddin’, I’m just kiddin’," Himeno laughed, her tone teasing but light. She gave you a wink and walked off, leaving you standing there, flustered and still trying to catch your breath. The playful tone she’d taken with you only made the situation feel worse, as if she knew exactly what had happened—or at least had some suspicion.

Oh, thank God.

You didn’t feel like it was a very funny joke.

You couldn’t look at Aki immediately. Not when the heat in your body still hadn’t quite subsided, not when you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. He was still walking, but something about the way his gaze flicked toward you made your stomach tighten in anticipation.

And then, just for a moment, you swear you saw it. Aki’s lips curled ever so slightly, a smirk—a knowing, playful smirk—as if he was savoring the fact that you were just as caught off guard by this as he was. It wasn’t a typical smirk, not one born out of arrogance or pride, but one that carried something else: a shared secret, an understanding between you that no one else could see.

And, from that moment onward, everything changed.

a/n: sighs... wipes sweat. SO. what do we thinkkkkkkkkk ;P. this chapter was so neasty that i had to update the tags on ao3. pls be warned, this fanfic will contain elements of bdsm! i'm taking it in a new creative direction, ur lovely comments have inspired me as always. please leave kinks, requests, anything else you want tos ee in this story and who knows! it may find its way in!!! yall know the drill, lmk ur thoughtssss... love you all!!!! (QOTD: wyd if aki grabbed you by the hair like he grabbed y/n last chapter?)

credits: einruji__ on twitter . I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | pornstar ; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa #csm x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki smut #aki fluff

172 notes · View notes

phant0mth1ef · 10 months ago

Text

i know it’s cold outside, but the last thing i wanna do is let you in.

his eyes watched you from the moment you turned the corner, watching to see if you’d actually make your way inside the cafe, watching to see if you’d hesitate before grabbing the door handle and ultimatelt decide to just not enter.

he hasn’t had anyone to properly tell his feelings to in months, everything had been bottled up and left there in hopes that one day, you’d return to him and he’d no longer be alone.

he lost himself in thought before the soft ding at the door chimed, your figure making its’ way inside the cafe, scanning over people’s heads to find his, a habit you had since you were a little girl.

once you saw his figure, hunced over in a chair, you let out a soft smile because despite everything, you still considered him to be one of your closest friends, no matter how mad you were at him.

two hot chocolates sat in front of him, he’d taken the liberty of ordering ahead for you so that you wouldn’t have to wait.

you pulled out your chair and sat down, fixing yourself so that you wouldn’t look out of place or awkward.

“hi.” your eyes didn’t meet his, instead they reached out for your mug and brought it to your lips, a bit of whipped cream lingering on your top lip as you licked it off.

“hi.” he looked so small. so timid and meek.

“what did you wanna talk about?” and there was the million dollar question, your eyes still refused to look up to meet his.

“can you look up? please.”

you looked up and fully took in the face that was bakugou katsuki, his red eyes pretty as always and his blonde hair looking perfect with his skin color.

“i guess i asked you here to apologize for how i treated you. and to apologize for how long it took me to reach out to you, i know it isn’t much but i really need you to know that i mean this. l/n y/n, i’m sorry for making you think that i could ever find you annoying, i was afraid of not fitting in so i tried to erase any trace of my previous life before highschool, and i’m so sorry for always making you feel as if you had to reach out to me first, and as if i never really wanted to talk to you. i’m sorry for not being able to put this into words sooner, because truth be told i’m scared of being vulnerable.” his voice slightly trembled as he gripped the mug a little harder, his eyes slightly brimming with tears.

you inhaled a deep breath, bringing the mug back up to your lips before you set it down to reply to him.

you knew if you were anybody else, bakugou would’ve treated you like shit and wouldn’t even give you the time of day, you knew that he was only apologizing because it was you.

and unfortunately you were a sucker for the i hate everyone but you trope.

“it’s okay, kats.” you smiled at him, a soft, genuine, kind smile. he let out a slight sigh of relief, afraid that you’d completely cut him out of your life.

“although, you can’t do it again. because i am not going to beg on my hands and knees for you to be my friend. i am not going to worship the ground you walk on, nor will i go to heaven and back just to make time for you. i’m a busy person nowadays. i had to make friends when you basically cut me off.” he slightly frowned, he was used to being the one person you could go to for anything.

“that’s fine. i just. i miss you.” he cringed once the words fell from his lips.

“yeah. i’m not saying that because i’m going to burst out laughing but just know i reciprocate that statement.” you giggled.

he realized after about a month of hanging out with you again that you were going to be the one person he could be himself around for the rest of his life, he realized that you were both soulmates after mina and kirishima gave him a rundown of your whole relationship and how he treats you so much differently.

he asked you out shortly after that, and whenever girls came up to him he wouldn’t even look their way, instead going to find you to interlace your fingers together and stick out his tongue to anyone who tried to get with him.

endings kinda bad i just did not know what to write :-(

tags! : @raendarkfaerie @lupitalove @riverozada @reirain @itgetzweird08

#mha #myheroacademia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki

501 notes · View notes

jessiexflem · 5 months ago

Text

- all-american | jessie fleming x reader

content: fluff, UCLA Jessie! (and Teagan being a butthead)

word count: 1.4K

requests are open :)

“You’re staring again,” Teagan pokes her teammate with the eraser on her pencil.

Heat rises up Jessie’s neck and face as she turns her head to glare at the Australian, “I am not!”

“Oh, whatever,” Teagan scoffs, rolling her eyes, “you’ve been giving her heart-eyes the entire time we’ve been here.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah? Then what’s the answer for number twelve?”

Jessie glances down at her calculus homework, the paper mostly unaltered except where she had scribbled her name in the top corner.

“Thought so,” Teagan replies smugly, “Gotta get your head screwed on, Jess, our grades depend on it.”

“You aren’t even supposed to be talking right now,” Jessie points at the ‘quiet please’ sign above the librarian’s head before focusing back on her homework, hoping it would encourage her friend to drop the subject.

“Come on, Jess, why don’t you just ask her out?”

“I thought you told me to focus on our homework,” Jessie sets her pencil down with a huff, “Plus, why would I do that?”

“Because you like her?” the Australian gives her a ‘duh?’ look.

“No, I don’t!” Jessie’s cheeks flush, “What makes you think that?”

“Well, for starters, we’ve been sitting here for over an hour, and you haven’t noticed that I moved your calculator underneath my notebook” Teagan chuckles, “Not to mention, any time you see her, she’s all you can talk about for hours. ‘Y/N’s so smart, Y/N showed me how to do this in lab, Y/N wasn’t in class today, and I missed her so mu–’”

“We’re just lab partners, that’s all,” Jessie shakes her head.

Teagan crosses her arms, tipping her chair onto its back legs. She narrows her eyes at her roommate, a cheeky smile tugging at her lips. “Alright, so if you insist you don’t like Y/N, you won’t mind if I ask her out on a date?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But you don’t like her, right? So, you wouldn’t be jealous?”

“Go for it,” Jessie replies dryly. She knew there was no way Teagan would actually ask you out, she barely knew you. She wouldn’t even know who you were if she hadn’t (annoyingly) crashed one of your study sessions during midterms last semester.

Putting her head down, Jessie redirects her attention back to her neglected math problems. The assignment was due at midnight, and she managed to make zero progress. Copying the numbers from the first question, she starts working through the equation until she realizes she needs a function on her graphing calculator.

“Can I have my calc–” Jessie stops mid-sentence as she looks up to see Teagan waving you over to their table, “What are you doing?!”

“You said I could ask Y/N out, so I figured I’d catch her as she was leaving.”

Backpack slung over your shoulders, you weave your way toward where the two were sitting. You notice Jessie’s posture tense as she whispers frantically to her teammate. Catching her eye, you direct a smile at your lab partner.

“Y/N!” Teagan greets cheerfully, “Done studying for the day?”

You shrug, “I should probably look over my ethics study guide a bit more, but I could feel my brain going numb and figured it was time for a break. What about you two?”

“Well, if you’re needing another study break later this week,” Teagan starts. Intrigued by what she had to say, you didn’t notice the color drain from Jessie’s normally rosy cheeks. “We were wondering if you were free Saturday afternoon? Jessie and I have a game at 4, and we wanted to invite you to watch.”

Jessie, realizing she was subconsciously holding her breath, let out a deep exhale.

“I’d love to! I haven’t been able to make it out to one yet,” you say as your phone begins to buzz in your hand, “I’ve got to head out, but text me the details, Jess?”

Jessie nods rapidly, her brain unable to form a coherent answer. She watches you walk away, feeling Teagan’s eyes burning a hole in her cheek. She didn’t even have to turn her head to know that her friend had the biggest smirk on her face.

“So, if I ever think that my lab partner’s getting asked out on a date, should I look like I’m about to puke, too? Or are you going to admit you have a crush on the girl?” Teagan teases.

“I hate you,” Jessie mutters, glaring at her.

“Bet you can’t wait to show off your first team All-American skills, huh? You better practice what goal celebration you’re going to dedicate to her.”

“I’m done talking to you.”

“Jessie and Y/N, sitting in a tree, K–”

“Just give me my calculator back.”

--------------------------------------

Jessie was having a horrible game. She couldn’t remember the last time she played this poorly. Constantly losing the ball in the midfield, getting outrun and out-muscled by her opposing mark. Her head was running a thousand miles a minute, and the only thing she could focus on was that Y/N was sitting front row.

It was the opposing team’s corner, and Teagan was shouting directions, ensuring each of her outfielders had their mark. The ball gets served in, and Jessie goes up for the header, making contact square on her forehead. However, instead of directing the ball out of the 18, her body was angled slightly toward the goal, meaning the ball veered toward Teagan instead. Luckily, it hit off the post and fell to their teammate, Hailie’s, feet, who cleared the ball toward midfield.

“Jessie, what the hell?” Jessie hears Teagan shout from behind her.

The halftime whistle blows, and Jessie couldn’t get to the locker room faster. Before she could reach her cubby, Coach Cromwell pulls her off to the side.

“Fleming, do you want to explain why it looks like you’ve never touched a soccer ball before in your life?” Coach Cromwell raises an eyebrow at her.

“I–I don’t know, nerves, I guess,” Jessie gnaws on the inside of her cheek, unable to make eye contact with her coach.

“Well, you better get your nerves sorted by the end of halftime unless you want to get benched for the rest of the game.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jessie nods, keeping her head down as she shuffles to her locker. Teagan, assigned the cubby next to her, frowns at her, brows furrowed with concern.

The second half went smoother for the midfielder. Her tackles were timed better, and she had better possession of the ball. The game remained tied at 0-0, UCLA pushing the ball into the opposing half of the field. Hailie sent a ball into Jessie’s feet, and she dribbled down the sideline, the opposing winger closing in on her. Faking left, she got the opponent to bite, leaving her a hole for Jessie to slip the ball between her legs. The crowd went nuts, you included. Jessie laid the ball off for her teammate, Ashley, who took the ball into the corner drawing a defender so the Canadian could make a run in. Ashley crossed a low-through ball into the box, which Jessie met at the top of the six, slotting it into the bottom-left corner of the goal.

You jumped to your feet, cheering as loud as you could. Noticing Jessie scanning the crowd, you give her an overexaggerated wave, to which she acknowledges with a smile. The game ends 2-0, Ashley tacking on another goal in the final two minutes. Waiting for Jessie and Teagan to complete their “good games” and post-game huddle, you stick yourself by the fence in a spot where they could easily find you.

“Y/N, you made it!” Teagan exclaims, jogging over, Jessie not far off her heels.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you beam, “you guys did awesome! Great goal, Jess.”

Jessie’s cheeks flush as Teagan throws an arm around her, “She nearly had two.”

“You’re never letting me live that down, will you?” she groans, trying to avoid Teagan’s soft punches to her ribs.

“Teagan!” the three of you turn to see Hailie motioning Teagan back over to the bench, giggling, “Come here!”

“I’ll be back,” Teagan says, shooting Jessie an obvious wink before running off. Jessie throws her hands up in protest, grumbling something under her breath. She turns back to you, cheeks still red.

“Um, thanks for coming to watch,” she smiles sheepishly. A few yards behind her, she can hear Teagan making loud, fake coughs. Their conversation from the other day flashes through her mind. “I still have to shower, but would you, uh, maybe want to get dinner? With me, I mean?”

“Teagan and Hailie, too? Or, are you asking me out on a date?” you grin.

“I–well, I mean,” Jessie stammers, her face hot.

“Because I’d much rather it be a date,” you assure.

Relief floods through Jessie’s entire body. “Then it’s a date.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jflem #woso #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #woso soccer #teagan micah #womens football

196 notes · View notes

777heavengirl · 6 months ago

Text

the one with the post mortem

sirius black x reader ! - 1,244 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: i cant tell if i like this or not but its the only thing I've been able to put out in days and its... yea no comment. also pls refer to this post about my update schedule and what I'm dealing w rn!

“You’re a bloody idiot Padfoot” James paced back and forth, hands on his hips as he scolded Sirius. “I just don't understand what you were thinking- they could’ve killed you”

“It's just a bruise Prongs can we relax here?” Sirius sighed as he held the frozen pea package to his face, he could already feel the tender skin around his eye bruising. The splitting headache he was now suffering from made him cringe as James's voice boomed around the living room.

“I think what James means to say is that-” You said as you walked back from their kitchen with tea in your hands, seamlessly passing the hot mug from your hands into his as you sat next to him on the Potter’s couch. “We are thankful it didn’t go past some shouting and a punch- Right James”

“Fuck no-”

“Come on-”

“No! It’s just-” James rubbed his temple, a frown etched deep within his features “Don’t put yourself back on their radar Sirius, I don't understand why you would want to go in the first place! You hated the woman!”

“We just don’t think it was the smartest idea to waltz into the funeral honey-” Lily said while rubbing circles mindlessly over her pregnant belly, her baby blue peplum top barely hiding the bottom slivers of her belly as she leaned back in her plush chair.

You stared at her round belly, a fleeting giddiness passing through you at the thought of the baby arriving soon. You had been scared you'd send her into labor when you knocked, dragging a bruised Sirius in, but she remained the calmest you had ever seen her, merely sighing as the two of you tumbled inside. Like it was just any other day. You guessed having James Potter as her husband meant he often brought home some excitement, to say the least.

“And then you also had the bloody brilliant idea of bringing y/n with you-”

“James-”

“No,” He shook his head, brown eyes staring straight into yours. “He shouldn’t have brought you! For Godric’s sake, they know you’re a muggle-born y/n! Merlin knows what they could’ve done-”

“I convinced him to let me go with him, James! I wasn’t going to let him go alone-” James continued to lecture you, you did your best to concentrate on his words. But all you could focus on was Sirius's blank stare towards the floor.

You knew James's lecture came from a place of love and care. James was so much like his mother, you could almost see her. The way he argued with his hands on his hips, a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder. Nothing but care and love, and worry seeped into his words. You knew he meant well, you knew he just did not understand why Sirius couldn’t just leave it alone. It frustrated James, it always had. They were brothers, no one could deny that. But a piece of Sirius, small and deep within him, hidden from the world, would always belong to the most honorable House of Black.

And it not only tore Sirius apart but James too.

As much as Sirius was a part of his family, as much as he called Euphemia mum and Fleamont dad, as much as they were brothers in every way but blood. As much as they had built many memories together, happy Christmases, and bountiful birthdays, with many more to come. Endless days together, growing old together, like brothers, like family. Hell, Sirius was in the Potter’s family portrait. But even through all of this, they could never erase Sirius’s past. It would always be there, like an ugly inky stain on an otherwise pristine white shirt.

But you understood. Somehow. You knew what it felt like, the need to go crawling back to the parent that makes you feel worthless, hoping and praying it'll be different each time.

Sirius craved to be seen by his mother just as much as you did your father.

You guessed that was why you didn’t fight him on going, why you decided to go with him.

“He’s right,” the room went quiet as you all turned to look at Sirius, his eyes were now closed, one covered by the frozen bag. He felt exhausted, like his arms and legs were made of lead, his heart felt heavy with guilt and grief. “I shouldn’t have agreed to let you come, hell- I shouldn’t have gone in the first place but that’s my bullshit to deal with, not yours, love”

You scoffed, “Since when do we deal with bullshit alone-”

“Since you decided that we needed to lead separate lives y/n” He snapped now, dropping the bag on his lap as he turned to look at you.

“Oh grow up Sirius” You turned away now, away from how his features twisted in frustration and regret. You did your best to keep your face flat and monotone, afraid to let even a single sliver of emotion slip through. You hadn’t talked about it, yet. Avoiding the theme altogether for the last couple of days since he came home. But the tension was there, palpable and thick. It permeated every conversation and every interaction. It made everything feel heavy, the way that rain would drench and turn your clothes heavy.

You couldn’t take the silence anymore, with a sigh you got up, pulling down the edge of your black dress. Lily and James merely stared, wide-eyed and shocked at the outburst from the both of you.

“I’ll see you two later-” Your words had barely rang out as you apparated away, the faintest crack of the air following you.

Sirius groaned, dropping his face into his hands.

“So no, you haven’t fixed it yet-”

“It’s not that easy Prongs,” Sirius melted into the couch, fingers tracing patterns into the corduroy.

“Why?” Lily stared at Sirius, a glint in her eye that was no stranger to Sirius. He narrowed his eyes at the red-head. “Why isn’t it easy Sirius? She loves you an obscene amount- watching the two of you is gross”

“What are you talking about Lilykins?” Sirius played with the edges of the soggy bag of peas, a childish pout on his lips.

“Lils is right, the two of you are worse than we are and we are married pads,” James sat on the arm of Lily’s armchair. Sirius scoffed-

“Come off it- no one’s worse than you two” They both rolled their eyes, a small smile on their lips they tried to repress.

“I’m not wrong though- the two of you are disgustingly cute- always fawning over each other, whispering things to the other- you know you should really confess Sirius, tell her how you feel-” Sirius sat up, eyes wide,

“Tell her how I feel? Is pregnancy melting your brain Evans?”

“Oi! It’s Potter now, thank you very much-” James feigned hurt but Lily burst into laughter,

“God- the two of you are meant for each other,” James and Sirius stared dumbly at Lily, uncontrollable laughter shaking her body, she slapped James’s thigh excitedly “You really do- I can’t believe, Merlin-” She continued to laugh, starting to wipe tears from the corner of her eyes as she let out full spurts of laughter. “I can’t believe the two of you said the same thing-”

But as fast as she started she suddenly stopped with a small, oh, green eyes wide-

“W-what is it-” James stood, staring at his wife “Is everything okay?”

“I either just peed myself" Lily grabbed onto James's forearm to attempt to stand up from her recliner chair "or my water broke— currently leaning towards the latter”

“Oh fuck-”

taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine

let me know if you wanna be added ! or if i missed you

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #the marauders era #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #padfoot #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black series #sirius o black #sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black #sirius black drabble #sirius black angst #sirius x you #sirius x reader #padfoot x you

277 notes · View notes

forcemeanakin · 2 years ago

Text

Make you feel better.

•WARNINGS: SMUT. Vaginal sex (female top), unprotected sex, blowjob, handjob, degradation kink, spanking, dirty talk. Explicit mentions of injuries.

Pairing: TCW!Anakin Skywalker x female reader.

Summary: You are a nurse in the 501st squad and General Skywalker needs some assistance. Only you could help him feel better.

Word count: 4.8K. This started as a blurb, but I’m incapable of shutting up. I haven’t stood up from my chair since 10am, so enjoy.

A/N: I’m so so so so in love with this man, it’s sickening. Scenario inspired by Ahsoka ep.5!. NOT PROOFREAD!!, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao

Also first one shot since like forever????

____________________________________________

As a war nurse, you are used to treating the nastiest of wounds, the bloodiest of cuts, the vilest of injuries.

You have chosen your profession out of love and vocation. As cliche as it might be, the true desire of your heart was to help people feel better: The plan was to specialize as a pediatric nurse, even becoming a doctor one day. Working at a hospital, maybe have a private practice with that medic husband of yours you often dreamed about.

All of that was erased the moment war erupted.

Fresh out of nursing school, every single one of your classmates, including yourself, were drafted to report to duty as nurses on the frontlines. The assignment of troops was random, but as if fate had decided, you were put at the service of the 501st. Little did you know, the job was harder than you had ever imagined it would be; and the constant bombing and deceased people you had to observe had nothing to do with it.

It was the general of the squad that made your job more complicated than it had to be.

General Skywalker.

Well, it wasn’t exactly him, but the persistent crush you had on him.

Needless to say, it was extremely unprofessional to be daydreaming of the person who was technically your boss. Even more unethical to be full-on fantasizing about his dick size when you were supposed to be suturing injured clones. But dammit, was it hard. So hard to be so close to his pulling presence and yet so far from achieving anything real with the man. Not that you had tried. Public rejection would be even more embarrassing than crushing on him.

Anakin Skywalker hardly recognized your existence. Between his duty as leader on the field, his responsibilities as Jedi off-hours and the reduced sleep time he could squeeze in between battles, he didn’t have time to remember the name of one of the nurses of his legion. Especially when he never went to the tents himself; the god of a man was indestructible.

Fuck, was he hot.

Just watching him scream: “Forward!” every day, as he ran directly to conflict with bravery was enough to have you dripping. His whole General image was your own personal definition of lust; his armor, the tone in which he would deliver orders, the frown he would wear until he had defeated each and every single one of his enemies. The smile he would flash whenever they won over a battle. Luckily, it was often.

But you had this idea that, out all of the medical staff, you were his least favorite. Maybe it had something to do with how social you were: always distracting his soldiers with jokes as you cleaned their cuts so they wouldn’t think of the sting. Or maybe it had something to do with how emotional you could get during your shifts: always fighting with your colleagues so they would treat the troopers as people, not numbers. Even if he had created a culture of trust among his peers, you weren’t sure if he appreciated that you caused so much trouble within the medical wing.

You had endured a year of stolen glances, salivating at the sight of him from afar and lonely nights with just your hand. Cheeks would blush so fast whenever he would catch you checking him out, and maybe you were drunk on the smell of medical alcohol, but you swore that you caught him checking you out too once.

But that was long forgotten the next day, when he came back to being his same old cold persona. You forgave that aspect of him: the atrocities he had committed in the name of the Republic weighed heavy on his shoulders, slouching his proud figure whenever he had to face the reality of his situation.

The same you had to face everyday.

“Who’s available?!” Yelling was the official way of communicating over here. You were finishing up a bandage on a trooper that had lost his left leg, meaning that you had to answer the call of duty.

The Ryloth takeover was more hectic than the squad had ever anticipated. Soldiers falling left and right, some didn’t even make it to the medical bay, just straight to the pseudo-morgue that was built to then give them a final resting place.

“I’m almost ready to take the next one!” You screamed over the noise from the ships flying over.

“Ms. Dana.” Someone called you by your last name from outside the medical tent. “General Skywalker’s tent in 5.”

That made you drop the jar of gauze.

No one has ever been there, you thought.

Outside of his skippy padawan and uptight master, Anakin’s tent had always been off limits to the public. His sacred place to unwind in peace. The ways he must unwind after a long day of battle…

“Ms. Dana!” That woke you up from a very explicit image of Anakin jerking off the stress away.

“C-coming!” You choked. Grabbing your personal kit, you ran to the destination that had your clit throbbing with anticipation.

You would see the sheets he slept on, the place where he storaged all of his robes, the shower that saw him naked every day. Jealousy of an inanimate object took over you as quickly as it left, making you feel stupid for getting angry at a room.

You almost didn’t notice that the battle was over, the only remnants of it were the people being moved in gurneys, the clouds of dust and the beaten up ships. Your outfit was probably not the best to endure the hardness of the Ryloth landscape: a tight, white buttoned up dress with a stupid little hat on top of your head. You hated the son of a bitch, it was ridiculous as fuck, but necessary for recognition among all of the personnel working in camps.

Anakin will think it’s stupid too.

He will think you are stupid.

The self-degradation stopped once you reached the entrance of his tent. Gulping exaggeratedly, you were unsure if to knock, announce yourself or wait until he was annoyed enough to come out and see you standing there like an idiot.

“Come in.” It was his voice who cruelly cut the silence, growling.

With shaking legs, the green fabric that formed his personal chamber was removed from your eyesight and you were hit by the delicious smell of him. So manly, so musty. It smelled like his cologne all over and you wished you bottle that up to spray it on your own sheets.

It was less rewarding to see him sitting on the edge of his bed with an exasperated stare, analyzing your figure with obnoxiousness. You even cut short your eye-fucking tour of his body when you met his tired eyes. Have you taken too long to get here?

“So they sent you.” He sighed, deviating his gaze. The evident disgust at your presence made you slouch timidly. You were a good nurse. The best one in the camp, if you dare to say. “I told Rex I’m fine. I don’t need assistance, it’s just a bruise.” His tone was harder than his words, surprisingly.

“Well, now that I’m here, might as well take a look at that, huh?” Fighting through the devastating embarrassment, you proceeded to walk over his bed to place your kit. Biting your lip, you feared to ask the next question. “Shall we get started?”

He was one step away from rolling his eyes. “Fine. Just do it quickly.”

“Got it, sir.” Weird. There was no chilly breeze, however, Anakin had just flinched. “Care to show me where the bruise is?”

He hesitated for a bit, closing his eyes with frustration. You were about to ask again when he exhaled with annoyance. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I would like to confirm that. Please, sir, the faster we do this, the faster I’m on my merry way.” You hated that he was desperate to kick you out, but apparently your compelling argument helped to accelerate the process.

After seeing that he still felt fuzzy about checking the bruise, you decided to start somewhere else. “Let me get started with this cut over here. Looks pretty nasty.”

You doubted if to take a seat, scared that it would be too close to him, but you needed the space to maneuver. Giving up to your internal fight, you sat down next to him and began by cleaning up the wound that escaped the fabric of his burgundy robe.

“That’s nothing.” He mumbled under his breath, still not looking at you.

Ignoring his attempt to diminish your work, you decided to also ignore your basic instinct to start a conversation to ease up the process. The internal alarms of survival were yelling at you not too. However, there was a moment where the alarms shut down, basically because every part of your brain shut down simultaneously and it was when you had to grip his bicep to make it stand still. Your fingers dug into the hard muscle, feeling how every little bit flexed under your fingertips, proving first-hand just how strong he was.

“Done. Now I’m gonna clean the ones in your face.” You poured some alcohol into another cotton ball and turned to face him.

Being face to face with Anakin Skywalker had been the most intimidating experience of your life and that hot as hell scar and mean frown didn’t make it easier. In fact, it had you clenching around nothing. You cleared your throat before slowly reaching out for his chin, pulling him to give you a better look of his dirty and exhausted aspect.

He gasped the second the puffy ball made contact with a cut on his left cheekbone. You took that opportunity to bring him some comfort, despite your irregular breathing and overall tenseness. Rubbing your thumb along his jaw, you saw his pain decreased until the sting was gone. You moved to another cut on his forehead, repeating the process until you had treated most of them gone. When you swapped your current cotton ball with a new one so caught him looking down on your body.

It’s this stupid uniform.

He sensed your eyes on him and quickly deviated them to focus on your irises. You gulped before continuing your beeline around his face, this time close to the scar you often fantasize about in bed.

“That one 's old. No need to worry about it.” He joked.

He joked.

Unable to form a coherent comeback, you limited yourself to give him a nasal laugh, demonstarting that you got it.

“Thought you wouldn't be this silent. You’re more chatty with the clones.” He said, slightly tilting his head.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to talk.” You replied, this time with a little smile as a peace offering.

“What did you think I wanted?” He frowned, interrupting your cleaning.

“I thought you wanted me out as quickly as possible.” You stopped momentarily to accommodate his face once more into a position you could work with.

He let out a dry laugh. “It’s nothing personal. I just want to come back to work.”

“You just came back from battle and want to keep working? Do you ever stop?” You joked back, feeling how the atmosphere inside the tent had changed. Feeling more comfortable, you switched your body a little, now your chests were aligned, just inches apart.

“Hardly.” He clicked his tongue, gaze slightly dropping to give a quick sweep of your lips.

“Well, you should rest. Relax. That’s an important part of recovery.” You advised him, finishing up the last cut. You took a cloth of your kit and used it to clean some of the dry blood and dirt off him.

“Can’t stay still.” He shook his head.

“There are other ways to relax.” You shrugged your shoulders, taking that little pause to admire his beautiful demeanor. Those blue eyes could spell you into saying yes to basically anything.

“Like?” He pushed, licking his lips as his intense gaze focused on making you feel smaller and smaller.

“Like…” You dirty minded bitch, think about something other than sex!

Almost like he could hear your inner dialogue, he chuckled.

“Like taking a walk or reading a book.” You finally came up with a pg-13 alternative to relaxing.

“Could be.” He snickered. After his beautiful giggle dialed down, you felt the tension switching. Thicker. More intense. “More of a physical guy myself.”

Feeling the pull to his plump lips, you rushed to get out of the trouble zone. “Ready for me to see this world-famous bruise?”

Your brain short circuited when he snapped his shoulder armor in one swift move and threw it on the floor. The next thing had you mentally panting and physically in shock: Anakin was removing his robes to expose his naked and bruised torso. The skin of his middle part would dip perfectly into breathtaking abs, not to mention the flexing of his arms became more evident to you without the stupid robe in your way.

The reddened-purplish spot expanded all the way from the right side of his lower abdomen, all the way down the waistband of his pants. The silent gawking didn’t go unnoticed by him, a little smirk coming to greet your widened eyes. That woke you up enough to get moving.

“H-how-“ You took a moment to regain some composure. “How did this happen?”

“A droideka fell on me.” He muttered shortly, almost as if the portion of information brought shame to him.

“Alright, I’m gonna need to palpate the area to know if there’s any further damage.” You announced with more nerves than a medical professional should speak to their patients.

Because he was now standing up, sitting down didn’t give you the best height to disinfect some of the minor cuts that tainted his perfect tanned skin.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to lay down for me, please.” Formalities came back as soon as you felt threatened by his overpowering presence again.

“No.” He spat, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’d prefer to stand, if it’s possible. Please.”

“Sure.” After all, it was your job to make the process easier for him. On the other hand, that meant having to kneel in front of him. That caught him off guard and almost backed down when you reached out to feel the tampered skin. “Please tell me where it hurts.”

Your little fingers began to poke around the wounded area, massaging the zones where you knew a more serious injury could present itself. It didn’t go under your radar the way he would have goosebumps whenever you looked up to him or groped him more firmly. Repeating over and over: “How does it feel here?” you made your way all over the part of the bruise that was visible to the eye.

“Good. It seems like no internal organs have been compromised.” You announced with a little smile. Now the part you dreaded -and kind of expected- was next. “Uhm, I’m going to need to check the rest of the bruise to make sure you didn’t break your hip, sir.”

“Anakin.” He spat.

“Pardon?” You blinked rapidly.

“Call me Anakin. It makes this… easier.” He cleared his throat.

“Okay, Anakin.” You nodded. How you said the next thing so calmly was still a mystery to you. “So, I know this part may be uncomfortable, but I’ll need to remove your pants out of the way. Probably your underwear as well, if I need to take a better look. Don’t worry, I’ve seen enough male anatomy for this to be routinary for me-”

In the middle of your speech, as you dropped your gaze to prepare yourself for dipping your fingers under his pants, something snapped your attention.

The gigantic bulge right in front of your eye line.

How you had missed such a tent while you palpated his abdomen was another mystery to you.

“Uhm- I-” You choked, unwilling to look up. “I-”

Anakin made no effort to try and hide his wood. But what was the point? It was already there. You had already noticed it.

Mumbling, you decided to continue being professional. It was a normal response after all. “I’ll go ahead and lower your pants, sir- Anakin, sorry.” You corrected yourself, but it was too late.

You had already seen the reason why he made you call him Anakin: his dick twitched the second you said “sir”. Now that was interesting.

Your hand pulled down the brown pants, lowering his black underwear at the same time, only revealing his right hip, leaving the bulge quietly covered. Anakin’s chest rose uncontrollably, flinching every now and then when your hand would get too close to his boner, or when your warm breath would fan his exposed hip. When you finally dared to meet his gaze, to let him know you were almost through with the exam, you were pleased with the view above you.

Rose pink cheeks, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth, darkened gaze fixed on your cleavage. It was the equivalent of liquid courage in human form.

“Does this hurt?” You felt up another portion, this time closer to his groin. When he murmured a weak “no”, you inched even closer. “And here?” Same response.

When you got to a point where your pinky grazed the bulge and he gasped, you knew this was the point of no return.

“And does this hurt?” You asked, slowly palming the thick shaft that was threatening to rupture his pants at any given second.

Swallowing harshly, Anakin refused to speak up a word. Instead, he let you carry on with your devilious plan.

“And this? Does it hurt, sir?” You wrapped your hand around the still clothed member, rubbing faster and harder.

He limited himself to closing his eyes, moaning on the low as your hand gripped his swell cock with more pressure and more confidence. Your ego was so high up in the sky that you had the impulse to rub your lips against the fabric already stained with pre-cum.

“Sir, can I finish up the exam?” Your wide doe eyes were quite the contrary of your filthy intentions.

Once he nodded with hooded eyes, you fished his veiny cock from out of the confinements of his underwear and tugged it out for you to admire all of its glory. It sprung free, the tip pointing directly at you, like it knew. Involuntarily, your mouth opened in admiration to such a big and thick frame. Anakin’s sly smirk made another surprise appearance at your gawking.

You were acquainted with male genitalia. But not like this. Never like this.

So huge. So intimidating. So mouth-watering.

“It’s almost like you have never seen one. Not as huge as this one, right?” You shook your head, biting your lip as you took in the whole image. You needed a minute to wrap around the idea that he was carrying this weapon everywhere he went.

Your hands -yes, plural, because you needed both to handle such beast- pumped fast to grant him the deliberation he so desperately craved. Yanking his thick shaft in between your palms had you pooling all over your white panties, like a goddamn slut. His hips were thrusting at the rhythm you had set, fucking your fist like he pleased. Feeling how he tensed his abdomen, the climax was closed.

Taking a last leap of fate, you stopped the jerking off momentarily and clutched the fabric of his pants down with both hands, revealing his whole lower part to your delight. His thighs, oh, his muscular thighs always did unholy things to you and to have them right there for you to grip was making you rub your own thighs together. Foreseeing what was to come, you let your hair down, losing the stupid hat.

Digging your nails on the hardness of his leg, you licked the tip of his shaft, testing the water. The little drop of pre-cum you managed to catch was salty and warm, so deliciously milky. Moaning, you opened your mouth to lazily envelop his tip, rubbing it without interest, just softly teasing him.

“Look at you. Who would say that you would be so unprofessional, sucking your commanding general’s cock? Huh?” Anakin mocked you from his proud stand. “Miss little giggling nurse turned out to be a filthy cockslut. Salivating at the sight of my dick.”

You moaned, still pampering the reddened head of his cock.

“I could.” He chuckled, his thumb coming to caress your jaw just like you did to him earlier. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you stare when I walk by the medical tent? How you practically undress me with your eyes? Such a desperate slut. Begging to be fuck just right. Acting like you're not thinking about hopping on this dick while working.”

After giving a last open mouthed kiss on the sensitive tip, you opened your mouth and presented your pink tongue to him, for which he rewarded you with a smiling expression.

“You offer yourself to make me feel better?” He cocked an arrogant brow.

Nodding, you let out a small, high pitched whimper to hurry him up.

“Hope you know what you’re doing, baby.”

And with that, he grabbed a handful of your locks with his gloved limb and the other one he used to tug your chin further down, making room for the rest of his cock. In the blink of an eye, he was fucking your throat raw, having no mercy for you or the tears that spilled from our eyes when he would especially far down. He emphasized repeatedly how he had to train you to take all of him in, that you were not properly ready to take someone as big as him. He even said it with pity, making fun that you hadn’t been fucking with real men.

But he was here now. And he was going to take care of you.

Even if you lack the ability to relax your throat enough for you to take the whole 9 inch monstrosity that was violating your breathing canal, he was appreciative of the way you gagged around him and the noises you made whenever the tip would hit a wall. He even praised the movements of your tongue on his underside, rewarding you with a little slap on your cheek. Anakin laughed when he heard your horny moan at the harsh action.

Suddenly, Anakin stopped bobbing your head up and down his length, causing the mess of saliva that was covering both you and him to dissolve into a mesly string connecting you two.

“Let me see how well your other hole makes me feel, baby. Up.” As your legs made an effort to stand without shaking, Anakin returned to his previous seating position, this time manspreading to let his cock breathe in all of its glory. Patting his lap, he called you in like a dog. “Here.”

Dying of shame at the wetness that dripped from your inner thighs, you spread yourself until both your knees were at each side of his hips. Anakin glanced at the leaking juices and fucking grinned the brightest smile.

“So wet just for sucking dick.” His index and middle finger retrieved some of the spill, playing with your sensitive nub on their way. He tasted the juices himself, licking his fingers clean. He hummed in approval, ripping your panties apart to have more access and drink up more of your arousal. “Pretty little pussy. Do you think it’ll fit?” He asked you with a narcissistic loop side smile, as he sucked some more off his fingers.

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, shaking at the ministrations of his hands around your ass.

“It will.” He reassured you, pulling your skirt up and entangling it just above your hips. “You’ll make it fit.” He put his hands behind his back, on the bed, yielding control to you. “Now show me how bad you’ve been wanting this. Ride my dick.”

Using his strong shoulders for leverage, soon your slick pussy was sucking up his length. The first contact had you digging your nails on his shoulders, fighting through the pain of the stretch, this position only enlarging the already swollenness of his member. Gasping with an open mouth, you fought to push yourself even further down. Skin to skin, you were feeling all of him in: every curve, every wrinkle, every twitch. Even after remembering the condom, you opted for not mentioning it. There was no way you could say goodbye to feeling him bare.

Anakin pulled you in by the neck, drinking in the scream you let out when you bottomed out. His lips tasted better than anything you had ever tried, so sweet by nature and salty because of the sweat. You just wanted more and more; anything he was willing to give you.

“Faster.” Anakin demanded; clasping to your hips to bounce you harder on him, to remind you that this was about him, not you.

Obeying like the sub you were, you humped him faster, adjusting yourself to surround his shoulders with your arms so you could pull his hair. You knew he liked it by the way he purred on your ear, embracing your waist tighter to manhandle you better. The hug you were both entrapped in ended with his big hands holding both your ass cheeks, groping them in such a disrespectful manner: splitting them open, squeezing them until it hurt, slapping without any sort of consideration.

“Mhm, just like that, baby.” He praised blissed out, his hand cruelly smacking your already red and abused rear. “You do know how to ride dick. So good, taking me so well with this slutty pussy of yours.”

Chasing your own pleasure, you gripped him harder and grinded on his wood, rubbing your clit with his pubic bone. You whimpered when you felt the delicious shock on your clit, which only incentivized you to rock your hips even faster. You were close, so close to coming undone, clenching him like a vice.

“C’mon, you offer yourself to me, to use you as I seem fit.” Anakin pushed you back so you could see him clearly. “I want you to bounce, baby. Bounce those tight tits for me.”

Anakin removed three buttons of your dress, enough for him to get drunk on the sight of your boobs pressed together and bouncing, but not all the way exposed. Like instructed, you bounced on his dick like it was your job to do so, enamored by the view of him hypnotized by your jumping breasts. Your nipples would shyly come to greet out of your white top, albeit Anakin wouldn’t have the full show because of the fabric that still caged them.

Tired of the partial view, Anakin’s hands left your ass and traveled to their next destination: your full tits. Without removing another button, he took in the weight of your boobs inside of his palms and played with your meaty buds like he had never seen a pair before. The rough movements of his hands around the fat caused your dress to open a bit more, basically leaving you naked for him.

“They’re more gorgeous than I ever anticipated.” He muttered, before enveloping a peak inside his mouth and lapping at it repeatedly. “Seeing you with this lame excuse of a uniform it’s harder than going to war, baby. Craving a taste of you and not being able to do anything about it, it’s torture. Pure torture.” He moaned in a ragged voice, sucking in the same nipple with closed eyes, savoring it.

“You- you wanted me?” You cried, sliding in more frantically.

You were so close and he had it in his hands to make you come in that same instant.

“Baby, I’ve been dreaming about filling this pussy to the brim the second you were drafted.” He exhaled with a smile. “I hate seeing you with the clones: gifting them smiles that should belong to me, parading this cleavage around when it should be for my eyes only, showing off this ass when only I should know the feeling of it inside my palms.”

“Anakin! I’m coming! I’m coming!” You announced, simultaneously feeling how his dick twitched inside of you.

“Let me feel it, baby. Come all over my cock. Indulge me.” This time it was you who took the initiative to kiss him, thinking this would be your last chance to savour him before this was all over.

You convulsed around his dick, just like he asked, tumbling over his shoulder to regain your breath. Anakin followed short after you, shuddering as he spilled over, biting your shoulder to muffle his groan.

After the aftershocks dissipated and you regained consciousness, the shame of what had transpired hit you like a train. Fixing your dress to cover more of you, you wondered how long you should wait before saying something. Luckily, Anakin broke the ice first.

“Next time you should keep the hat. I like it.” He chuckled, making you giggle as well.

Needless to say, you were now expected to be in his tent every night after he came back from battle, split open for him, ready to take in all of the frustration of the day and make him feel better.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin #anakin skywalker #star wars #sw anakin #tcw anakin #ahsoka series #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader #darth vader

3K notes · View notes