#I personally like to give him pots
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arecaceae175 · 1 year ago
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MY FAVORITE THING TO DO!!!!
shoutout to everyone that writes skysword link/sky with chronic fatigue i love you
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katabay · 2 years ago
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stop, or you'll make me cry
low key thought that 2D was tied up to a breaking wheel in that silent running mv teaser, which reminded me of a tarot card illustration featuring the aforementioned wheel, and ngl it felt thematic™ which is all I need to get started on something
also silent running is so good, I've had it on repeat all day 😩
society6 | twitter (cohost) | ko-fi | deviantart
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imblocking-you · 1 year ago
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As a Kaleidoscope of Death enjoyer, I'm really having fun with the vibes the Dreadful Night world is offering
#dreadful night#kaleidoscope of death#// maple#manhwa#listening to rain and river asmr too really sets that chilly camping in the mountains tone#what is one with bada's partner (i forgot his name) he's so sus#like he wants to help but the way he goes about it makes you think otherwise#ch 17 not killing hyungshin but giving him a death flag triggering statement smart but also cruel 😭😭#the full immersion and when the chills start OH YK ITS GETTJNG GREAT#i love reading horror over watching precisely for this reason bc you dont just follow a story#you flesh out a world in your head and you get to live in it as well#your consciousness stands among the characters while the plot plays out in your head#and when it's not just horrow but they're aware of exactly what's going on and are trying to play it smart#but there's still an air of wonder of what's about to transpire#LOVE IT#ch. 20 i keep forgetting his name 😭 but PARTNER DAMN WHAT A POT STIRRER YOU ARE#wait no sorry for judging you#ALSO this has got to be brain expanding for hyungshin like how a normal person should act learning it's a game#being annoying and curious and shit unlike partner here who is oddly calm about everything 💀#he moves so strategically it's annoying bro is the embodiment of never let them know your next move#also the way they incorporated sex here 😭 crazy#but i love the vibes so 🤷‍♂️#im glad we're all acknowledging that partner is truly blackhearted#cunning x perceptive is hiking up in my ship list lowkey#and a character trait i'm starting to like is 'ambiguously something' LMAO#ch. 22 this is a whole 180 from kod couple's dynamic#well granted they're in diff circumstances but still the personalities presented are very interesting#keeps me on the tip of my toes love these type of stories
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sillypilled-friendcel · 1 year ago
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"what do you know about drinking" "what do you know about smoking" "what do you know about weed" "what do you know about drugs" you do not know me or my life!!!!!!
#hes always like “what do you know” and then theres a chance hell call me the r slur#and like. i was a smoker for 4 years. i was an alcoholic for 6.#i did speed in muddle school#i smoked pot and had edibles. i had edibles woth my fucking parents.#amd then he complains that i have a vape (bought with my own money!!) and that my parents give me alcohol now (they gave my sisters alcohol#at 13!!)#like he smoked and drank around my suster with cigarettes and drinks my parents bought her#but the moment ma buys me a vaoe with ny own money or i have any experience drinking its awful#i guess its because shes sooo mature and hard working and ik just a disrespectful kid#even tho im a fucking adult now and he never had any right to treat me half the way he did/does#“i treat her like i treat my 10 year old brother” srsly. srsly?? am i 10 now? am i your 10 yr old baby brother now? no. im 18 fucking years#old and i had a totally different life experience than your brother when i was 10 too. we are not related. that is NOT what they meant when#they said to treat me like your younger sister. fuck you. fuck off.#also. im SORRY to your brother if this is how you treat him. but it fucking isnt. your kind to him. you play with him. u fckng LOVE him#while ur an absolute abusive POS towards me#u literally talk shit about me! too my friends!! what? u think my bestie since 6th grade and my cousin ive known all my life are gonna agree#with you? how fucking stupid can u be?#also. u r not the expert on disability just becuz u lost half ur foot and have adhd. ur extremely fucking ableist actually#“i could play sports and so cpukd this guy with a pacemaker i knew so no disability is ever an excuse you can do anything and also im gonna#call you (an autistic person) a retard and say the n word constantly and call children n word lettes!!!! becuz i am a totally normal and wel#well adjusted individual!!!“#i hope someone hears you say half the shit you say and fucking jumps your ass#and i hope those fuckings pigs u love so much dont do shit for you#you ableist racist transphobic homophobic intersexist bigoted piece of fucking shit#like. if a form of bigotry exjsts he fucking loves it.#god. fuck you. fuck you fuck you.#i hope you fucking kill yourself
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pksp-yellow · 7 months ago
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I just fully realized the Cardiologist I'm seeing on Thursday is a dude I am terrified
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bi-writes · 5 months ago
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hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?
mail-order bride
you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.
you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.
when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.
Riley.
you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.
the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.
he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.
"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."
your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.
"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."
he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.
"said no pets."
your lip trembles.
"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.
when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.
it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.
you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.
he points at the thing and shakes his head.
"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."
you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.
"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.
"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"
he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.
"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"
you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.
"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."
you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."
"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."
when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.
"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."
you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.
you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.
mine.
when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.
simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.
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reidrum · 6 months ago
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like i would | s.r
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pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader
a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3
cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,
summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged
wc: 4.5k
_____________
you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.
spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 
it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.
so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.
apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 
spencer doesn’t buy it.
he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’
it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.
the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.
the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.
“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”
“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.
“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.
“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”
emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”
“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.
“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”
“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.
spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?
spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.
he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.
“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”
he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”
you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.
he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.
“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.
the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.
“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.
spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).
but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.
not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.
so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”
you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”
“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”
pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”
“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”
“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”
he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”
“what’s what spence, let me go.”
“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.
“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.
“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”
any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.
your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.
the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.
“i heard you, on the jet.”
you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 
he heard you?
“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.
the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?
the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.
“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”
his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.
“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.
your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”
the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.
“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”
your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.
“no.”
spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”
“no.” you say again, softer this time.
“should we change that?”
this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.
so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.
he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.
“yes.”
that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.
you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.
he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.
detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“
“please don’t stop.”
he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.
the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.
“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”
spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.
“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.
you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.
“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.
his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”
“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.
he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.
“oh fuck,” you cry.
“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.
you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.
“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”
“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.
the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.
he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.
the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.
his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.
he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.
spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.
“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.
“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.
you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.
he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 
it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.
your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.
your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 
spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.
you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.
“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”
“but…” you pathetically respond.
“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”
the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.
“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”
you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.
holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.
his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”
you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.
his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.
you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.
if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.
once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.
you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.
the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.
but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.
“spence…harder.”
he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.
“whatever you say, princess.”
and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.
“fuck,” you whine.
“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”
your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.
“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”
you whimper, “spencer,”
“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”
he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.
“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”
spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.
in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.
the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”
still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”
he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”
you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”
“me?” he says incredulously.
you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”
he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”
you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”
“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”
“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”
“just tell him i have a gun.”
“so does he?”
“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.
you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”
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writersdrug · 3 months ago
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I fully believe that Simon "Ghost" Riley wouldn't want an expensive, lavish honeymoon after your wedding. Of course, if that's what you dream of, he'll do it for you. He'd do anything for the person who loved him enough to marry him, scars and all. You want a beach-front, warm getaway in Costa Rica, filled with sunsets and quiet time by the waves? Say no more, he's looking for first class tickets already. You like the sound of a ski resort, surrounded by snowy alpines and hot chocolates, holding hands on the ski lifts and racing down the hills (you'd beat him every time, he's not one for winter sports)? He's asking if you'd prefer Smuggler's Notch in Vermont, or Vail Ski in Colorado. He'll do it if it's with you. He'll do anything for you.
But ask Simon what he wants, and he'll give you such a domestic answer: two or three weeks, somewhere in the United Kingdom, in a cottage backed up against the woods - preferably in autumn, when the leaves will be orange, the air will be misty, and the soft rain will be just enough to drown out his anxieties. Sure, he'd love to go hiking with you in Lake District, finding a good spot under the cover of the dense trees, listening to the sound of the babbling river and showing off his camping skills - harmlessly bickering with you about how it's not considered camping if you're in a cabin with electricity and running water. He rents an SUV and folds the seats down, throwing a mattress, blankets, and pillows in the back so the both of you can cuddle together while watching the stars.
But really, he just wants to exist with you for a while - as a married couple. He wants to wake up next to you without having anywhere to be at the ass crack of dawn, taking his time to watch the way you breathe so softly, the way you're always holding onto some part of him while you sleep, whether that's your arm wrapped around his bicep, your hand fisting his shirt, or your being wrapped tightly around his soul. He wants to cook meals with you, watch as you sway to whatever music you put on the telly, butt-bumping him as you chop vegetables and he stirs the pot on the stove. He wants to be next to you as you drag him around the rainy streets of Manchester, stepping into every bookstore or plant nursery you pass, eventually landing in a coffee shop and sitting close to each other, talking over a vanilla latte and a black coffee about how wainscoting is a gorgeous addition to homes, and how it's a crime that people tend to tear it down in modern decor. He promises to install some himself just for you, wherever you want it.
He wants to spend quiet nights at home, curled under the blanket on the couch, some random movie playing on the telly and the space heater blowing warm air on the both of you - he's too mesmerized at the way you're twirling the golden wedding band around your ring finger, biting back a smile every time you glance down at it (he has a wedding band too - but he'd never take it on missions. Instead, he has a simple line tattooed around his ring finger for when he has to leave the ring behind). He wants to make love to you, leaving soft kisses and nips along your skin, rolling his hips into you slowly and sensually, losing himself in the quiet moans, whispered I love you's, and the feeling of your nails carving the memory into the skin of his back. He wants to rest with himself inside of you, cradling you to his chest as he mumbles sleepily, "I love you, want to marry you every day of my life..." his rough hand tracing your skin, committing every bump, every curve, every vein to his memory. He wants to fall asleep there, letting go of his anxieties, any thoughts of doubt rolling off of his shoulders when he presses kisses to the back of your neck, his fingers slowly fiddling with the ring on your finger.
You're his quiet. His peace. You're soft sweaters, the sugar cube he drops into a warm mug of tea in his hands, the raindrops gently landing on his face, the smell of earth and pine at the edge of the woods, the sound of wood crackling in a warm fire. You're gentle, even when you're excited and bouncy, smothering him in kisses or forcing him to dance with you on the back patio. He knows you'll both have to leave this solace soon, returning to work like the wedding had never happened, forced to be cogs in the machine of society. But to Simon, each day after this will be a day he's married to you - each day will be a blessing, a reason to thank the universe, a reason to smile as he crosses the threshold of your shared home, a reason to crack his dad jokes outside of missions, a reason to join you on your weekly grocery runs, a reason to buy flowers once a week to replace the previous ones.
You're his peace.
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luvth0t · 9 months ago
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RIDICULOUS ━ L.N
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in which lando can longer cope with you laughing at the mere idea of being with him, and you realise it wouldn’t be that ridiculous. but it may be all too late.
warnings; nswf, smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, lando in the friend zone, implied that reader is a year or two older than lando, little bit of angst, choking, soft dom!lando, silly reader, overstimulation i guess, lotta praise, oral, fluff at the end if you squint
lando was infatuated the moment he met you.
it took a while to realise how strongly he felt, considering he met you at arguably the most chaotic time of his life.
his first year in f1, carlos his teammate; meaning you were around every race from the start, to this day.
he wanted his own photographer after a mere few interactions with you, but quickly realised he only cared about photos because you were the one occasionally taking them.
carlos signing for ferrari meant lando was losing two people; his teammate and you. his friend.
he’d jokingly asked you to jump ship, work for him instead. if only you knew how serious he was being.
you never looked at lando the way he looked at you. he was like a friends annoying little brother, one you couldn’t help but pity and adore.
he made you laugh, was fun to be around. a change from the personality’s you would come across in the paddock. it was no shock to you that carlos built a bond with him ━ as did you.
since joining ferarri you didn’t see the brit as much as you’d like, not that carlos’ new teammate was a let down. charles was lovely. you didn’t feel invasive taking shots of the pair of them.
but you still kept it touch. occasional group outings, dinners and celebrations. you weren’t oblivious to the way he always made time for you. but you were naive to the deeper meanings.
his flirtations were nothing of concern, to you it was a running joke. amongst many of you; you didn’t think lando actually wanted anything from you beyond platonic.
he could handle rejection. but being laughed at? he could only cope for so long.
“he begged me to invite you tonight,” carlos’ words were teasing, directed towards you yet his eyes rested on lando; out for dinner with a few other team members from mclaren carlos hadn’t caught up with in a while.
melbourne was one of your favourite races for this very reason, having to get here so early meant you had time to catch up with those in the paddock away from the craziness.
lando’s eyes lifted from the menu he was reading; scoffing immediately, already prepared to jump on the defence ━ not giving you a chance to speak.
“i was making sure you hadn’t forgotten anyone, y/n included.” lando corrected, flashing you a grin in the midst of his explanation, one you mirrored.
“i’d like to think my presence would be a given,” you huffed back at carlos; and lando felt a fool for allowing his heart to jump at the prospect of you also defending him.
“of course it is. just saying, lando was set on making sure you’d be here.” carlos smirked; eyes now on his own menu, pretending as if he wasn’t attempting to stir the pot.
“he misses you,” an engineer spoke up from besides lando, nudging the british driver who could only roll his eyes; not at all unfamiliar with being targeted with such banter. he copped it a lot worse when you were all on the same team.
“mhm, misses me. not carlos.” you grinned; practically bragged ━ nudging carlos this time; you’d grown a talent it seemed for redirecting the topic of conversation. trying too at least, and the way lando smirked made it clear he appreciated your efforts.
he’d nodded as well, confirming your words. in no way ashamed to admit he missed you more than the spaniard, while it didn’t seem like there was any truth to his words with the playful smile on his face; the assumption couldn’t be any closer to the truth.
“if you miss her so much you should go out for dinner just the pair of you,” carlos challenged quickly; earning an eye roll from yourself and a small giggle at the idea ━ oh the shit show that would be, you and lando out for dinner. you could read the headlines now.
lando caught the way you laughed, you however missed the way his eyes snapped to you in the moment. the way his smile faltered, merely from watching you completely dismiss and laugh at the idea of spending just a single dinner with him alone. what’s so funny about that? could it really be the most absurd idea? no matter how many times you reacted in such a way it always stung.
he recovered almost instantly however, like he always does.
“wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings, know you don’t like to be left out.” lando mused; earning another laugh from you ━ one that was music to his ears, hearing you laugh at his jokes was always enough to have him holding his chin a little higher.
“oh i’d be more than happy to see you finally get out of the friend zone.” carlos regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, catching the way lando’s smile fell and jaw tensed ━ quickly realising his teasing may have gone too far.
your lack of reaction killed lando more than carlos’ words did, the way you barely battered an eyelash ━ completely unbothered while he sat here trying to not pop a blood vessel. he wanted to defend the relationship or friendship you had, but there wasn’t much to defend.
because carlos was right, he was painfully stuck in the friend zone.
“how much longer till you realise these jokes got old two years ago?” you sounded awfully unbothered as your gaze remained on your menu, only looking up when another engineer spoke up.
“it’s just a joke?” he’d asked in full seriousness, eyes flickering between yourself and lando. he wasn’t on carlos’ side of the garage, always working on lando’s side. he barely interacted with you; only heard things through the grapevine.
“obviously.” you spoke as if it was…obvious, and the laugh you let out would’ve softened the blow of your words had lando not already heard this a thousand times.
“ah, ah, ah. don’t forget about silverstone.” carlos simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut; bringing up the night where everyone was convinced you and lando spent the night together.
which would be valid if you actually had, but you hadn’t. you went home together purely because you both were tired. he dropped you at your hotel room, didn’t even come inside. somehow no one believed either of you when you squashed their suspicions that ‘lando’s wish had finally come true.’
“don’t be ridiculous.” you scoffed, shaking your head ever so slightly. lando’s silence would’ve been deafening if others weren’t jumping in to speak, and maybe you would’ve noticed his lack of input if you spared him a glance.
he was managing to muster a fake smile, it was almost painful. any amusement he was clinging too had vanished, wanting the conversation to be over with.
“it’s not ridiculous.” carlos huffed; and lando almost wanted to nod in agreement. thank him even. because it wasn’t ridiculous, he didn’t think so at least. it made sense to him. you made so much sense to him.
“it is.” the nail in the coffin, lando couldn’t keep smiling anymore. you sounded oh so certain, all the while the smile hadn’t left your face. “come on now,” you added in exaggeration at carlos’ unconvinced face.
lando wasn’t sure what you said next, he didn’t want to hear it. he couldn’t figure out why hearing all of this was suddenly unbearable, but before he knew it he was not so subtlety excusing himself ━ something about getting another drink, before standing up and bee lining to the bar.
the abrupt departure didn’t halt anyone else’s movements, conversations continuing and carlos joining in a debate with his cousin and his old mclaren press officer; while your attention got stuck on lando’s full glass ahead of you.
he didn’t need another drink.
you watched as he weaved through the crowds, the way he failed to smile at anyone he passed by; the tension clear in his jaw; it almost appeared as if he was scowling.
it was funny, because your first thought was if you offended him. but you couldn’t figure out what possibly could have; it was laughable how unaware you were of his feelings.
“i’ll be back,” you excused yourself, standing up and following in lando’s directions without any hesitance; a slight frown on your face as you dodged people left and right to get to the bar.
you weren’t sure why the prospect of upsetting him upset you so much, but the sudden urgency to check on him was too powerful to ignore.
“rude to not offer a girl a drink you know?”
lando’s eyes only shifted towards you for a mere couple of seconds when you made your presence known. he could count on one hand the amount of times he wished to be alone when you were near, but this was one of them.
he was drained, unable to fake any more smiles or shrug off any more comments. blame it on the jet lag.
“apologises,” he hummed; not offering you another glance which had your suspicions confirmed, your furrowed brow showing concern not that he could see. his blue eyes were focused ahead on the busy bartender.
“you good?” you internally cringed as the words left your lips, unable to figure out a way to address the sudden mood without sounding overbearing or overstepping.
you watched as his shoulders tensed; as his eyes strategically continued to avoid you, only making the pit in your stomach feel deeper, as if it could swallow you whole.
“peachy.” his sarcasm was clear, and while it would usually be a relief it wasn’t laced with the usual humour. it was blunt, dismissive ━ and if you had any doubts left about being the reason for him running off, they were now squashed.
“did i say something━ did carlos say something?” the questions stumbled out of your lips in concern, biting down on the inside of your cheek. “i’ve tried to tell him to lay off with the jokes, it’s stupid i know.” you began to ramble.
lando finally let his gaze land on you, and the sight of your sympathetic eyes and worried frown had him feeling guilty. which was ridiculous, but suddenly he felt an urge to reassure you he was fine. that you hadn’t said anything.
but you had.
“it’s not the jokes,” lando cut you off; hands running over his head, even letting out a laugh at how pathetic he sounded. he was going to continue, explain it further; but he stopped himself.
he couldn’t. it was a can of worms that must remain shut.
you stood in silence for a moment, under the impression he’d keep speaking. but he didn’t. leaving you with no explanation; just further confusion.
“no?” you hummed; eyebrows raising. “because i totally get if it is. it’s ridiculous how they keep going on━” you were rambling again, trying to make the situation better. attempting to ensure he felt heard, that he could speak to you about what was bothering him.
so oblivious to the fact you were just digging yourself a deeper hole.
there was that word again; ridiculous.
“is it? is it really that ridiculous?” lando couldn’t stop the question from flying out of his mouth; only now turning to properly face you; in time to catch the dumbfounded look on your face from his question.
it took a few moments to try understand what he meant, coming up short as you stared at him clueless, lips parting to try come up with something to say but falling short.
“is what?” you mumbled, suddenly all confidence was gone. almost scared to hear the answer; purely because you recognised the doubt and regret illustrating his face.
but lando had nothing else to lose, you’ve rejected him in front of everyone else without realising. what’s once more?
“us. dinner us two, having gone home together in silverstone. this?” lando sighed out like it was obvious, hands waving between the pair of you.
because to him it was so obvious. the amount of times he’s almost asked you to join him for a meal, just the pair of you.
maybe if he had you’d see what he saw.
silverstone meant so much to him, having expected nothing from you but he thought about the taxi ride back to the hotel more than he’d like to admit. he could’ve sworn you’d been flirting with him that night.
he even thought it would’ve been the start of something.
optimism was a curse however, because stupidly lando thought perhaps after finally expressing his feelings that maybe you’d reveal your hidden reciprocation. that maybe you were scared like him.
but instead all he could see was shock. and confusion. and fuck, was that sympathy?
“what?” it was a weak response, but all you could muster. you were attempting to find any other explanation for his words, to figure out what he could be implying.
lando had to laugh, shaking his head as he faced the bar again; hands running over his face as you quickly realised he was being fully serious.
“it’s not━ we’ve never━ i mean it would be weird.” word vomit, you didn’t know what you were saying; usually so careful with your words you knew the moment lando looked at you in shock and offence you’d be haunted by that very sentence. “not weird━ but,” you attempted to fix your mistake, eyes screwing shut.
another laugh from him beat you to it however.
“ridiculous. i got it,” lando spoke through a breath, sounding incredibly defeated which had your stomach dropping.
you struggled to find words to assure him, still attempting to process what he’d just told you. you hadn’t ever looked at him in that way. he was always just… lando.
“lando…” you trailed off with a frown, only now starting to realise the position you both were now in.
the awkward tension was growing quickly and you’d never despised something so quickly. you refused to let this be the bitter end to your friendship.
“it’s fine. just drop it.” lando huffed, standing up straight; eyes finding yours once more. he didn’t want you to feel bad, he’d accepted long ago that his chances of you feeling the same were slim.
you can’t apologise for how you feel.
“no we should talk about it,” you disagreed, so much concern and care in your eyes it almost made him sick. he didn’t need that from you. and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about how he’d spent years pining over you.
he’d kept it secret for a reason, to avoid this.
“i’ll pass,” lando hummed; the half smile he mustered up did little to comfort you as he licked his bottom lip and glanced around the room. “i’m gonna head up,” he cleared his throat.
you’d gone to express your dismay with such thing, but he was walking off before you could get another word out; left alone at the bar dumbfounded and suddenly in need of a drink.
it would be quite sad to admit that one revelation could change your whole weekend. but it did.
you’ve never had trouble sleeping, in fact the jet lag usually knocked you out. yet you’d spent the best of your time in melbourne thinking through every word lando said. looking back on every damn interaction the two of you shared.
you felt like an idiot. because suddenly it made a lot of sense, what you failed to realise in the moment fell together piece by piece.
an insight into his intentions for the effort he’d put into the friendship over the last couple years was eye opening, and while you were unsure as to how you hadn’t assumed such thing sooner, you found yourself asking the question how it made you feel.
you’d be lying if you didn’t have a few moments of giddiness as you recounted certain times. how he drove you home from pre-season testing one time because you didn’t feel well. how he always got you flowers for your birthday.
suddenly your mind was consumed with the thought of lando every waking second. from the moment you entered the paddock on thursday you were looking for him. which didn’t make sense considering you had plans to avoid him.
you didn’t want to make things worse than they were. but for some reason he was the only thing on your mind, to the point it was becoming an issue as you tried to go about your work.
not once in your career had you been pulled up on anything, so when carlos questioned if you were okay friday afternoon ━ claiming you had been slacking, you knew you were fucked.
there’s no way you felt the same. surely not.
you had to stand by what you said. it’d be weird?
he was lando. annoying lando who couldn’t grow a speck of facial hair and flinched at the sight of fish.
except saturday, when you finally laid eyes on the driver again, it was cruel slap in the face of reality when you realised that was almost 5 years ago. you’d both changed. lando had changed.
you almost spiralled when you found yourself admiring the driver. had his mclaren top always been so tight around his biceps? had his skin always been so sun kissed? not to mention the way his curls sat atop his head.
you suddenly felt insane. you’d never looked at him in that light, never thought what if. but his confession had you a mess of thoughts, one’s you had to run away from. causing you to spend the rest of the weekend hidden away in ferrari’s hospitality.
you could only hide for so long, carlos had won ━ which was enough to get your mind off of the british driver for a whole 4 minutes until they were up on the podium together.
work was your priority however, but you couldn’t help but notice just how nicely lando photographs. you only ever focused on carlos, considering he paid your wage. but as you took shots and shots of the pair interacting before and after the podium from afar you couldn’t help but note how lando was practically glowing.
your head was a mess, and as you now stood in a random club in melbourne, you had no idea what your next move was.
you couldn’t exactly deny going out to celebrate when carlos had won. so your next wish was that lando simply wouldn’t be in attendance.
but he was, and your eyes hadn’t left him all night.
still having not spoken for days, you couldn’t shake the urge to congratulate him. yet for some reason you were scared, you didn’t trust yourself. fearing you’d say something you’d regret. which was a foreign feeling. lando was usually the easiest person for you to talk too.
however you could only stand in the corner with a drink as your only company for so long. a sudden wave of confidence washing over you, or more so desperation to stop being so childish, causing you to down your drink before setting off towards the british driver.
it was when you were only a few metres from him that you realised you should probably have a game plan, and if he hadn’t locked eyes with you there was a high chance you would’ve backed out. turned around and walked away.
instead you were left to improvise.
“good job today,” you smiled widely when you got into ear shot; unable to shake the tightness in your chest, feeling suddenly out of breath as if you had sprinted over here.
lando appeared much more relaxed than he had last time you spoke. which made sense. he’d put it on the podium, why wouldn’t he be in a good mood?
“thank you,” the driver grinned, unable to be stumped when he was still running high off adrenaline. plus, he figured you would pretend the other evening never happened. which he would happily take.
your script ended there however. you had no idea what to say. or where to look, since when was eye contact with lando hard?
“impressive from carlos,” lando managed to fill the silence, and you could feel the relief at the fact he’d saved you from creating an awkward silence.
“yeah, yeah i know. very proud of him. i’ll never complain about pain again.” you spoke through a dry laugh; one he mirrored, your lips pursing as you attempted to think of something, anything, to fix the mess you found you guys in.
to apologise for your rudeness? to explain your mindset? to just talk. you needed to talk to him, for your own sanity.
“look i just wanted━” you finally built the courage up to speak, but were interrupted as a blonde woman slid next to lando’s side, handing him a drink while doing so.
it shouldn’t have shut you up so quickly, but it did ━ eyebrows raising as you attempted to figure out how to respond to the image in front of you. one you’d never seen before actually.
“line was long,” the girl hummed in explanation, and you only just caught lando’s sorry eyes as his attention turned to the girl next to him.
he would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the lifeline that was the blonde he’d just met 20 minutes ago. he did not need to hear your reasonings as to why you should just remain friends, not tonight.
“i’ll um, i’ll talk to you later.” there was no way you’d try get your words out again, not when you barely spoke up the first time. yet for some reason, you’d hoped lando had insisted you could speak now.
instead left to watch as he nodded and offered you a small smile; practically sending you off on your way.
embarrassment was the one word to describe how you felt as you made your way to the nearest booth, attempting to hide away and let the darkness swallow you whole.
apart of you felt you should be grateful, maybe being interrupted was a saving grace. god knows what you were about to say, you definitely didn’t. but right now you found yourself in the same position as you were 5 minutes ago.
it felt selfish. lando had practically admitted to having feelings for you, that’s what you gathered at least, and you’d been unaware for years.
you’d been slightly uncertain in your feelings for five days and you felt as if you were losing your mind. you had no right for an explanation really, but you needed something. attempting to decipher everything to do with the main man of mclaren was giving you a headache.
although your vision became a bit clearer as you sat and watched him interact with the girl who’d placed the drink in his hands.
it suddenly made sense why you hadn’t seen him like this before. his attention was always on you, his efforts and time focused towards you if you were in arms reach.
which you couldn’t help but feel grateful for as you sat and watched your new personal hell.
you didn’t want to label it as jealousy. because that would be ridiculous, but it was beginning to be hard to watch the way lando whispered in her ear and grinned widely as he earned a laugh or two from the girl.
were you mad at the sight or mad at your own reaction? you weren’t sure. it felt wrong, to feel so strongly when only a few days ago you’d laughed in his face about the prospect of being with him.
what was it they said about you only want what you can’t have?
“it should be illegal for you to be sitting here moping after i’ve won.” carlos’ voice snapped you from your thoughts, being met with the driver who slid into the booth opposite you, a sheepish smile forming on your features.
“i’m not moping.” you huffed, leaning back in your seat ━ attempting to look and feel relaxed, allow your tense shoulders to loosen, glancing back to lando once more before your attention was on the driver ahead of you.
“you have been all week.” carlos disagreed, eyebrow raising as you frowned; not having a reply because he was right. and suddenly you felt horrible.
“i’m sorry━ that’s the last thing you need with the couple weeks you’ve had,” you sighed, head falling into your hands. it was as if you suddenly couldn’t do anything right.
you missed the way carlos smiled, having looked at the direct reason of your problems moments prior.
“don’t apologise.” carlos dismissed, assuring you it was fine; and when you peaked up through your hands, the smile he was flashing you was enough to put your mind at ease. “i’m assuming lando said something.”
there it was. lando. again. back in your head. as if you ever got him out.
you only sighed, head falling back this time as you now stared at the ceiling. of course carlos knew.
“you knew?” you huffed out, it clear you already knew the answer.
“everyone does.” carlos chuckled, and you wish you too could take amusement from the situation. how comforting, this whole time you’ve either appeared as an idiot or the biggest bitch.
“why wouldn’t you tell me?” you practically whined, looking back at the driver once more; watching as he put his hands up in defence and innocence.
“i thought you knew.” carlos claimed, sounding so honest you couldn’t question him ━ nor blame him. you shouldn’t have needed someone to spell it out for you. plus, you’re not sure what you would’ve done if you did know.
because it wasn’t like you were handling the current situation very well.
you had no answer, just left him to watch as you sat wallowing in self pity. you should’ve never chased him to the bar.
“he’ll be fine. look at him, moving on already,” carlos attempt to comfort you was more like a punch to the stomach ━ because you had to stop yourself from glaring at him. had to stop yourself from spitting out how that wasn’t what you wanted.
you didn’t want that at all, and that thought was suffocating. you were in no place to come to terms with your feelings, but right now they seemed to be demanding to make themselves known.
“i need air.” you huffed as you stood up, thankful that you had taken notice of the smokers exit not too far from you.
the crisp air felt like a soothing blanket, hitting your skin the moment you got outside. the balcony was empty and finally you felt as if you could breathe; allowing your arms to rest against the railing as the music became muffled and the sound of melbourne’s night life filled your ears.
it felt stupid, staring across the city skyline as if it would answer your questions. maybe the stars could align and write out a solution for you, tell you what to do.
but with every passing second you didn’t find any clarity or idea on what to do, how to feel. you shouldn’t want him. you haven’t wanted him before. it isn’t fair to suddenly feel so drawn to him after unknowingly rejecting him for so long.
but it was the reality. you’d been exposed to the idea of lando wanting you; and with every passing moment it became clear to you it wasn’t weird. it sounded fucking incredible.
the music suddenly filled your ears again, moments later becoming muffled as you became aware someone had joined you outside. it wasn’t till they spoke that you tensed up.
“it’s cold out here,” his voice was instantly recognisable, you didn’t need to look at him to know it was him.
“too hot in there.” you hummed simply in reply, feeling his presence next to you as he joined you in observing the city skyline; although you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.
falling into a comfortable silence was the last thing you expected, both too scared to speak up and face the inevitable. if you could stay like this forever you would. it was the first few moments of peace you’d known all week.
“we can pretend the other night never happened. i don’t want things to be weird.” lando spoke, words so soft as if you’d break. as if he needed to be careful with you.
his whole demeanour had you frowning, turning to face him. he shouldn’t be fixing this mess, nor prioritising your feelings over his. not when both of you had neglected his for so long.
you parted your lips to disagree, to tell him that was the last thing you wanted. you wanted to talk about it. it’s all you needed to do.
but quickly you realised that was contradicting your initial thoughts.
“if that’s what you want,” you spoke through a breath; unable to understand how you still couldn’t find the right thing to say when this very conversation has been the only thing on your mind all week.
it was lando’s turn to stay quiet, you watched as he thought through what to say; practically seeing his mind tick.
“i just want to know why it’s so ridiculous to you.” lando practically blurted the question out, as if he was almost afraid he wouldn’t say it ever if he didn’t now. it’d been weighing on his mind, it killed him that he had no explanation as to why you were so against the idea of him in anyway that branched further than platonic.
and while you wanted to give him an answer, you didn’t have one.
“i don’t know.” you answered truthfully. “i never looked at you that way lando i…” you trailed off, eyes getting lost in his when you realised just how close he was. your admiration these past couple days from afar was one thing; but up close was a whole new ball park. “you were like this little kid, i don’t know,” you struggled to articulate your thoughts.
“yeah five years ago,” lando’s response was quick and blunt; even with the chuckle that escaped under his breath, it didn’t lessen the intensity in his eyes that were now pouring into yours. it was as if he’d been wanting to say such thing for years. he was challenging you.
you’d gulped at his words, because he was right and you’d only come to terms with such thing these past few days.
“yeah.” you mumbled in agreement, suddenly feeling small under his gaze; it was all so new. you’d been in this position with lando countless of times, why did you suddenly feel as if every nerve inside of you was being set alight? why did you feel as if you couldn’t dare look away from his eyes.
you could spot the moment lando realised the change in your behaviour, the way his eyes flickered across your face; his lips parting ever so slightly as he took a breath.
he recognised the look on your face, purely because it’s how he would always look at you.
“it fucking sucked you know? having to sit there while you laugh at the idea of spending the night with me. even just going on a date with me.” lando hummed, voice barely above the whisper because with the minimal distance he didn’t need to speak any louder. although if he spoke any quieter you’d be worried you wouldn’t hear him over the sound of your rapid heartbeat.
you didn’t know what to say, head tilting aside ever so slightly as you watched him take a step closer; dangerously close now yet for some reason you found yourself leaning further towards his frame ━ and the moment you let your eyes flicker to his lips you knew you were done for.
“m’ sorry,” you mumbled; eyes pouring into his once more as if that would ensure he knew you meant it, but he didn’t want nor need an apology. but god would he love an opportunity to change your mind.
it was as if you could act without thinking again the moment his hand cupped your cheek, lips pressed onto yours in a rush that had your hand moving to find a grip in his shirt.
you didn’t know how to describe it, but suddenly everything made sense as your lips moved together in perfect sync.
the moment almost came crumbling down however when lando pulled away only a few moments later, heavy breaths as his hand remained on your cheek; eyes looking down at you as if you were gods greatest gift to earth.
but as much as this felt like heaven, lando knew he couldn’t risk this just being a one time thing. he refused to get a taste of you just to be starved again.
“if you don’t━” lando barely got his words out, you had him read; could see the doubt beginning to creep in. as much as he hated being vulnerable it was almost self perseveration.
thankfully however you didn’t give him much time to worry, shaking your head before tugging him closer to you ━ reconnecting your lips with such certainty lando had no room to fear or doubt you.
it was all he needed, the lid was off and he finally could act on his wants ━ hands moving to grip your waist as he trapped you between himself and the railing, lips moving against yours without a care in the world that anyone could walk out and see.
it was as if the kiss was the answer to all your questions, suddenly it all made sense. lando made sense; you felt stupid, how had you denied yourself of such thing for so long?
your hands were tangled in his hair, his were clutching your sides for dear life ━ large hands pawing at your waist then your hips, having to stop himself from getting too greedy and travelling any further.
so caught up in him you quickly realised you needed to breathe, pulling away momentarily; yet you had no time to recover as lando only busied himself with peppering kisses on your jaw.
naturally you tilted your head back, a sigh of content escaping you as you invited him to explore more of you. and lando was not going to ignore such thing, soft kisses now pressed to the skin of your neck.
suddenly you were incredibly aware of the closeness, the way his body was pressed against yours; the cold railing behind you doing little to cool your hot skin; his knee pressing between your thighs having your eyes fluttering shut.
heaven was the only way to describe it.
but really you were on the smokers balcony of a crowded melbourne club, a reality that hit the pair of you as the door swung open and laughter and chatter was suddenly heard.
your eyes flickered to the group who appeared, lando regrettably lifting his head and glancing over his shoulder. the group was unbothered by your presence, you weren’t sure the pair of you were even noticed.
lando’s grip had tightened on your waist ever so slightly, as if you could slip away from him like the moment had.
“we should get out of here,” you spoke through heavy breaths as your eyes met his, watching as his lit up with both relief and eagerness. he only nodded, taking a step backwards as his hands ran over his now crinkled shirt.
the pair of you may had gotten yourselves together in those few seconds, but as you worked your way through the crowded club towards the exit, it was quite clear what had occurred.
the elevator ride only caused swollen lips and messy hair, and you struggled to keep your hands off of him once in the back of a taxi ━ kissing him was addictive, that’s the only thing you could think of right now.
the silence wasn’t awkward as you stumbled into his hotel room; only the sounds of quiet laughter as he struggled to find his room key. small curses escaping his mouth as he failed to move in the urgency he was currently feeling.
it was messy the way you both discarded your shoes and belongings, a few words and mumbles exchanged before he was tugging you into his chest again ━ lips once more reconnected.
the space allowed you to wrap your arms around his neck this time, body practically melting into his hold. you wanted to apologise again, explain your thoughts over the last few days, how your change of heart had occurred.
you weren’t even sure it was a change of heart; more so just now thinking about new possibilities.
but lando seemed to be the thing that could put those thoughts at bay, finally your mind was silent ━ all senses consumed with the man in front of you.
you weren’t sure which wall he’d backed you against but you didn’t care; welcoming the familiar feeling of his lips on your neck once more ━ taking the few seconds of your brain not being foggy to tug on the end of his shirt before trying to push it up his body.
he got the memo, ridding himself of his shirt and you could feel your breath get caught in your throat at the sight of his toned torso.
“what do you want?” lando’s question was matched with an intensity that almost had you squirming, his knee pushing between your thighs once more as you peered up at him.
you were suddenly lost for words, unsure how to vocalise what you wanted.
him. just him. anything he had to offer.
the feeling of his finger running up the side of your leg gave you plenty of ideas; but you were too flustered to articulate such thing.
the sight of you dumbfounded had him letting out a breathy chuckle, eyebrows raising in expectance ━ yet somehow it just had you squeezing your legs together.
“anything.” you mumbled, cheeks a tint of pink as he only smirked at your answer; you hadn’t realised how desperate you sounded. you weren’t sure you’ve ever sounded so needy.
“gotta be more specific pretty,” his grin told you he was revelling in your flustered state. how could he not? his mind was running wild with plans to have you a needy mess all for him.
the term of endearment was new, a boundary that had never been crossed in your friendship; yet it sounded so natural. what wasn’t natural was the way your heart seemed to flutter at the compliment.
“want me to touch you?” lando was almost mocking you as his hand moved to push your hair back out of your face, cupping the side of your head while doing so to ensure your eyes stayed trained on him ━ and the mere act had you falling further into submission.
it was pathetic, you were somehow able to identify such thing ━ standing here with parted lips and wide eyes, having nodded at his words almost too eagerly. you needed to control yourself, at least for now; he’d barely touched you yet.
“what do you want?” your words were no where near as confident as his, but you weren’t complaining; the confidence suited him, it only had you wanting him more.
you watched as his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, attempting to keep your mind off his finger that was dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.
“want to ruin you so you’ll only ever think of me if another man touches you.” lando was honest with his answer, you hadn’t expected such words to escape his mouth. such bluntness, what sounded like a promise had your knees feeling weak ━ the idea sounding perfect to you.
but he wasn’t finished.
“want you to cum on my fingers.” he added quietly, your legs spreading ever so slightly as his hand finally ventured under your skirt. “then my tongue,” he practically chimed; head ducking down to your neck now, his hot breath fanning your skin.
thinking was only getting harder, his words were turning your mind into a puddle, much like the state of your undergarments.
“then my cock.” he concluded before paying extra attention to the skin on your neck, kissing intently as you let out a shaky breath.
attempting to process such words from him was difficult, but you were quick to figure out it sounded incredible to you.
“hm?” his hum was a taunt, head lifting to look at you once more, watching as you nodded quickly.
“please,” you practically whimpered, god you’d get on your knees and beg. lando almost groaned from the word leaving your lips alone, the way you were looking up at him with doe eyes had a grin forming on his face, one you mirrored for a brief moment.
the man couldn’t believe his eyes, a sight he’d dream of too many times was in front of him in the flesh and he wanted nothing more but to make sure you too would never forget these moments.
his lips returning to yours almost had you failing to notice the way his hand slipped under your skirt, finding your soaked panties with ease. he groaned into your mouth as he realised how wet you were, your only reply a slight tug on his curls.
light and teasing touches were only tolerable for so long, you could deal with his fingers dancing around your clothed folds while his lips stayed on yours ━ but when he pulled away your breaths became irregular, clinging to every ounce of patience you had.
you were about to whine when his hand pushed your panties to the side, slipping a digit inside of you without warning was enough to have you choking out a moan ━ hand flying to grip his bicep to ensure your legs wouldn’t give out on you.
lando was watching you as if you were gods gift to the earth, thumb settling on your clit naturally that within seconds of him getting to work your eyes were fluttering shut ━ head falling back against the wall.
“you’re soaked baby,” his words were barely audible; too in awe of you, but you still managed to catch them as you nodded ever so slightly.
“for you,” you breathed out ━ not that it needed clarifying, but the reassurance had the driver smirking proudly, even rewarding you as suddenly a second finger slipped inside of you.
for him. lando would never had thought that would ever be possible. if he wasn’t so focused on getting you off he’d be replaying those words in his mind again, and again.
suddenly it was becoming hard to keep quiet, strings of moans and whimpers escaping you in succession, causing lando’s pants to feel incredibly tight. but that was the last thing on his mind, holding you against the wall with the only goal of having you come undone in his grasp.
his name sounded heavenly as you moaned it, so much so lando thought no one else should ever speak it again ━ nothing would compare to that.
“look at me.” lando’s demand was so calm you almost missed it, eyes still fluttered shut as your thighs squeezed around his hand. despite hearing him you couldn’t act, control of your body slipping away ever so quickly with the way his thumb was circling your sensitive bud.
lando’s breathy laugh wasn’t enough to capture your attention either, his touch was all your mind could focus on. so it was when his free large hand trailed up your body to wrap around your neck that your eyes fluttered open.
his eyes were inquisitive, clearly attempting to gage a reaction to the action which had your lips parting despite having no pressure applied. however it was the way you clenched around his fingers that told him enough.
the slight squeeze of your neck was enough to draw a moan out of you, and lando could only hum in content. you were fucking perfect.
it was quickly becoming overwhelming, pleasure suddenly building so quickly ━ eyes pouring into his as you struggled to form words.
“close,” was all you managed out; lando’s nod was in sync with his curled fingers ━ your nails digging into his skin as he brushed the spot that had your legs almost giving out.
you were holding onto him for dear life, moans growing louder and whinier as your vision started to become starry despite having your eyes open.
“let go baby,” his words were enough to push you over the edge, releasing onto his fingers as you practically panted his name like it was a prayer.
lando had concluded a long time ago that he couldn’t fall for you more than he already had; but as he watched you come undone, he realised he’d been wrong. your beauty truly knew no ends ━ and he was only now more eager to watch your face contort in pleasure again and again.
admiration filled your own eyes as they opened once more to peer up at him, flushed cheeks and a sheepish smile spreading on your face as you attempted to catch your breath.
“you’re incredible,” lando couldn’t stop the praise from escaping him, and watching the way your smile grew had him feeling no regret either; no shame like he usually would when a compliment perhaps too sentimental slipped passed his guard.
however this time it was reciprocated, you could see the meaning behind it ━ not dismissing it as a friendly comment, instead it had your already flushed cheeks reddening further.
“you are.” you spoke like it was obvious, even letting out a small giggle ━ sounding somewhat out of breath but such thing was granted. your arms moved to wrap around his neck again, both to ensure he stayed close and because your only strength was in your arms.
your legs already felt like jelly.
he’d read the situation with ease, because suddenly his hands were hooked under your thighs ━ halting you up as your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso.
your skirt was bunched at your hips, ruined panties almost shameful. your hands spread out against his toned back, unable to help yourself from feeling as much of his flexed muscles as possible.
messy kisses were exchanged as he moved you through the hotel room, lips lazily moving against each other before your back was hitting his plush mattress.
the sight above you rendered you speechless, no shame in your eyes raking over his frame as he stood at the foot of the bed ━ you quickly felt overdressed.
your own hands found the hem of your shirt, peeling it off your body, no bra meaning your upper body was exposed to the brit.
you could visibly see him gulp, his eyes dancing over your half naked frame as he took a few deep breaths; tongue flicking over his bottom lip. the man even shook his head in disbelief, unable to help himself when you invitingly leant back on your elbows.
he was on top of you within moments, situating between your spread legs as his head found the exposed skin of your chest, open mouth kisses pressed to your neck, slowly making their way to your breasts.
“you’re fucking beautiful.” he’d practically grumbled, your fingers finding his curls once more you could only whimper as his teeth tugged on your skin momentarily.
“want to make you feel good,” you whispered, unable to ignore his hard on pressing into your hip ━ the feeling had you squirming, keen to feel more of him.
he’d shushed you however, not being derailed as his kisses moved to your stomach now, your head hitting the pillow as you tried to control your breathing ━ left to stare up at the ceiling momentarily.
“i feel amazing,” lando spoke matter of factly, his hands spreading over your thighs as he parted them to his liking ━ your eyes flickering down, not expecting to meet his blue ones.
he looked like he was ready to devour you, it made your core practically ache ━ offered no relief as your legs could only squeeze against his hold.
he was quick in removing your skirt, and your panties ━ having you bare for him before he was hooking your legs over his shoulders. but his urgency seemed to still there, kisses pressed to your inner thighs instead of your glistening cunt.
“lando,” you’d whined, using all your strength to ensure you could keep your eyes on him, a pretty sight that was rendering you impatient. “please,” the plea left you in desperation.
you could still feel his breath on your thighs, not where you needed him, and when you heard him chuckle lowly your eyes had to press shut to keep your composure.
“oh baby,” he dragged out; cooing so sweetly your eyes narrowed when they met his again. “needy little thing,” he commented; quirking an eyebrow your way and you couldn’t argue, only pout.
he wasn’t wrong, much to your surprise. you’d never found yourself in such position, needing and craving someone so badly. depending on someone else for pleasure was practically foreign.
“not gonna make you beg,” lando ended your torture, if you could even call it that, mouth connecting with your cunt and your jaw dropped as his tongue quickly found your clit.
you were already sensitive, back arching immediately as you moaned out softly ━ hands flying to find his curls again.
pure ecstasy was the only way to describe the feeling, his tongue working so perfectly that you were fighting to not press your thighs against his head ━ body moving with every action, his hand moving to press down on your hips and keep you in place.
your eyes caught his own for a mere few moments, seeing him look up at you however had your own eyes rolling back; too sensitive to stay cool with the onslaught of pleasure.
he was everywhere, consuming every one of your senses ━ tugging on his curls your only outlet as you moaned and shook.
you weren’t ever sure you’d be able to cum from head alone, but you were about to find out ━ pathetically close already, stomach tightening having barely recovered from your first orgasm.
you forced yourself to gaze down at him again, wanting to see his head between your thighs ━ watch the way his arms flexed as he held you in place with ease.
his tongue was flicking between your folds, then paying attention to your clit; never missing a beat, it flood over you suddenly.
you could no longer hear the sounds you were making as you came again, back arching off the bed once more ━ seeing stars, lando sure to catch the sight as you came undone for him again.
it was a blur the next few moments, not present as lando shifted your legs off of his shoulders and back onto his knees, but once you realised the sight in front of you it didn’t take long for you to push yourself up the bed so you were sitting up.
“you good?” lando’s voice was soft now, ensuring you were okay; not oblivious to your tired body. you nodded however, a lazy smile spreading on your lips in reassurance, hooded eyes taking him all in. you just wanted to feel all of him.
“perfect,” you breathed, leaning forward to connect your lips without another word. it was greedy, a few moments of no contact and you were drawn to him again. you just wanted more and more, and the way lando’s hands flied to your waist showed it was truly reciprocated.
you pushed him slightly to sit down, switching positions so he was resting against the headboard now ━ it didn’t take much force, he was letting you guide him, hands delicately roaming your fatigued frame.
climbing into his lap your hands made quick work of his pants, unzipping them and moving all material out of the way to finally free his hardened cock.
lando moaned into your mouth the moment your hand wrapped around his length, pumping a few times was the relief he’d been ignoring since you entered the hotel room.
he struggled to kiss back for a mere moment, causing your eyes to flutter open, lips curving upwards at the sight of his face contorted in pleasure.
fuck you could get used to that image.
“come on baby,” lando rasped out as his hands found a home on your hips ━ guiding them upwards ever so slightly. “fuck yourself on my cock yeah?” there was a slight smugness in his tone; the type that had you falling into submission once more, despite him vocalising your plans.
your arms moved to hold onto his shoulders, enough to help steady you as you guided your hips on top of his, lowering yourself down onto his cock.
the pair of you gasped in sync, your forehead resting against his as you took him all in at once, jaw going slack from the stretch.
you stilled, needing time to adjust to his size ━ and lando had no complaints, the feeling of you wrapped around him having him content.
“you feel fucking incredible,” the driver rasped, lips brushing against yours as he spoke; and you could only whimper at first, a few deep breaths escaping you.
“so big,” you mumbled; having to swallow intently before mustering the energy to begin moving ━ eyes pouring into his as you began to ride him.
the closeness and intimacy would usually scare you; heck, it would normally terrify him. yet somehow it felt right, as if this wasn’t the first time between the pair of you.
your nails dug into his skin once more as you shifted up and down, lando’s hands only on your skin to ensure he had a hold on you ━ letting you set the pace as he watched, jaw tense and eyes adoring.
“fuck lando,” you whined when he’d bottom out once more, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your toes were curling ━ the sound of his own grunts and moans only adding to the pleasure.
“doing so good for me gorgeous,” his praise only encouraged you, words so delicate. you sped up as much as you could, not too fast but with more urgency than before; as much as your sore body would allow.
it wasn’t long before you started to tire, your moans grew whinier but you didn’t need to say anything ━ a choked moan escaping your throat when his hips suddenly thrusted up to meet your movements.
you hadn’t thought you could feel more full but you were wrong, and lando didn’t relent as he started fucking up into you.
you were like a doll in his hands, as he started to practically move you up and down his cock; his own hips continuing to thrust up you couldn’t keep up, eyes screwing shut as your mouth fell agape.
“fuck lando fuck,” you were practically chanting; a string of curses and his name; it all felt too good. fucking perfect, you couldn’t comprehend any of it.
“take it baby.” he grunted, and you nodded so quickly as if you’d ever disappoint him, fingers reaching to his back and nails dragging across the skin ━ his thrusts harsh, not slow but not too quick that you wouldn’t have time to feel every inch of him.
your head was thrown back, exposing your bare chest further to him ━ which lando made the most of for the time being, lips ducking down and attaching to one of your nipples for a few moments.
but as your sounds got louder he needed to be able to see your face clearly, hand moving up your back and tangling in your hair to force you to look at him.
“open your eyes princess,” he practically demanded, and at this point you’d do anything he said without question; eyes fluttering open to look at him.
his stamina was impressive, not surprising, still bouncing you on his cock as if it was nothing ━ but the way his breaths got shaky and his hooded eyes revealed he was feeling the pleasure like you were.
“who’s making you feel this good?” lando’s question escaped him without much thought; he just needed to hear you say it. wanted to revel in the fact he had you in such a state. your praise and reassurance held such a high value to him.
“you, lando, you,” you whined out in response ━ and you felt his hand move back to your hip, needing to use your own strength now to keep your head upright. “feels so good,” you told him ━ squeezing him as you did so.
he’d groaned at the feeling, almost having cum on the spot; thankfully he didn’t, because he needed to see you fall apart one more time.
“want to cum again yeah? that you want?” his mouth seemed to know no ends, the taunting only making your stomach grow tighter as you nodded to the best of your ability.
his breaths were heavy now, hands travelling to your ass as he used that as his grip of your body instead.
“wanna hear you say it,” lando grumbled ━ head ducking into the exposed skin of your neck, more kisses pressed onto your skin and the thought of marks being there from the amount of attention he’d paid to it was the last thing on either of your minds.
you were struggling now, too fucked out to process his words as quickly as he’d like ━ so much so a harsher thrust upwards had you aware you needed to answer him, yet you already forgot what he said.
“too fucked out to form words baby?” lando teased now that he knew he had your attention; and he chuckled once more when you shook your head quickly. “want to hear you say it.” he repeated, eyes piercing yours.
“wanna’ cum again,” your words were laced with desperation, needing to take a breath between sentences as his cock spread you open. “please let me cum,”
the british driver’s hum of satisfaction turned into a moan of pleasure at your plea, sounding and looking so pretty for him, it was clear you’d done enough as you felt his hand snake down between your bodies to your clit.
your vision went white practically immediately, almost yelping from how sensitive you were; thrown over the edge with little warm as you came on his dick ━ practically screaming his name as you did so.
lando came inside you merely a few seconds later, jaw slack from the sight of you and the way your walls squeezed him once more ━ only now was his thrusts sloppy as you both rode out your highs.
you were practically limp in his lap, forehead pressed against his shoulder as his own head rested against the headboard; heavy and irregular breaths filling the silence.
his hand moved to your head, fingers running through the strands of your hair comfortingly, the action causing you to hum in appreciation.
both of you were content with the silence, purely because neither of you knew exactly what to say. what to do. this was unexpected, to say the least.
you sat up straight after a couple minutes however, eyes meeting his ones; noticing the lack of intensity and confidence they held prior.
he was studying you as well, attempting to not spiral into a ‘what now.’
this meant a lot to him, he wouldn’t put that on you ━ that wouldn’t be fair. but you already had a good idea.
“i was wrong.” you finally managed to say what had been on the tip of your tongue, offering a small smile as his eyebrows raised in question.
he didn’t fully understand.
“about this. us. not making sense. being ridiculous.” you clarified, and the realisation washed over his features. you could feel him tense up slightly beneath you ━ shaking his head quickly.
“we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he assured in certainty. he didn’t want you to feel obligated to protect his feelings because you slept together.
which you appreciated, it was cute. he was thoughtful ━ which shouldn’t be a surprise.
“i’m not promising anything,” you clarified, dismissing him this time; you didn’t feel obligated at all. you weren’t saying you’d be his girlfriend and expected flowers when you woke up, but you needed him to know you no longer stood by what you said. you were also relieved to be able to articulate your thoughts. “but i was wrong.” you hummed.
a lazy smile spread on his features at that, acting like a catalyst for your own. a mumble of an okay and laughter was exchanged, before his lips were on yours again; a gentle kiss this time.
one you could certainly get used too.
━━
a/n: 615 days later and i’ve finally finished another fic. hope y’all r still there 😀😀
incredibly sorry for my inactivity and special shout out to everyone who has continued to support me despite the radio silence??? i love u
anyways i don’t love this but the fact i had the motivation to see it through was enough. hoping it’ll ease me back into writing and getting back up to standard, so apologises that it’s a little rusty 🫶🏼🫶🏼
what hasn’t changed is that it’s currently unedited and the ending is rushed hehe
as always feedback is always very much appreciated love u all mwahhh xoxo
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st4rbwrry · 1 month ago
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𝒟𝒜𝒩𝒢𝐸𝑅𝒪𝒰𝒮𝐿𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸.
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꒰ forbidden love with a southern boy sounds fun. a pastor for a father, and living in a small town with god-fearing, gossipy folk was not. ꒱
🫧 𐀔 . . . 16.8k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, farmer!eren + bluecollar!eren, domesticity, established relationship, talks of religion, small mention of abuse and alcoholism, forbidden love, sneaking around, age difference + time skip, lotssss of arguments, oral sex ꒰ f + m ꒱, quiet sex (they try ;3), fingering, spanking, lots of kisses, eren’s rlly affectionate, foreplay, rough sex, size difference, spitting in mouth vv briefly, sub/dom dynamic, lots of dirty talk, multiple orgasms + overstim. minors do not interact. reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated. ♡
꒰ theme songz + mocha’s note ! ꒱ . . . i’ll be by edwin mccain + movie by avenoir. . . i rlly like this plot, didn’t mean for it to be so long srry. but it’s good so ;) very notebook themed.
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getting married in secrecy was every family’s worst nightmare. the opportunity to see their creation speak soul-written vows to their lovers and part ways into unity. to laugh and dance together, snap photos, share cuisines and three-tiered intricately crafted fondant cake. helping their daughter pick out a dress, and their son a tux. all of those memories are delicate and forever cherished. to be ridden of that felt cruel. but, what family deserves that when they don’t accept who you're giving your love to? when they find the person you’re marrying selfish, undeserving of your love, and rude? those are the words people used to describe eren, your husband. 
the sun beats down upon the quaint southern town of georgia, casting long shadows across the freshly cut lawns and pegasus-painted houses. a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the ancient oak trees lining the streets, their gnarled branches stretching towards the cloudless sky. in the heart of this idyllic community, nestled between the town square and the bustling main street, stands a modest yet stately residence. this is where you resided years ago with your father, the reverend pastor kain. the house exudes warmth and tradition, its wraparound porch adorned with rocking chairs and potted azaleas. a white picket fence encircles the property, symbolizing the tight-knit neighborhood and the values upheld within these walls.
inside, the air is thick with the scent of pot roast bubbling within the choral blue dutchoven and the soft hum of gospel hymns drifting from the living room in soft symphonies from your sickly mother. diagnosed with kidney failure yet always ensuring the three of you had the warmest days. the cool interior provides a welcome respite from the summer heat. the polished hardwood floors creak beneath your feet, leading you past a formal dining room with a sturdy oak table and matching chairs. family photographs line the mantel above the fireplace, capturing moments of joy and love.
your father's study lies at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. through the crack, you catch a glimpse of his desk, cluttered with stacks of paperwork, sermons, and bibles. the faint aroma of pipe tobacco wafts out, mingling with the musty smell of aged books. despite the comforting atmosphere, an undercurrent of tension hangs in the air, a palpable reminder of the forbidden nature of your love and the stern disapproval of your father, the man of god who once guided you with unwavering devotion.
you’ll never forget the intensity of your heart racing as you held eren’s hand within your own and stood before your father proclaiming your love. the look of disappointment on his face with furrowed brows, smile lines deep as he frowned and stared unwavering. the stern posture he’d taken by leaning up in his chair and hearing the nonsense coming from both of you. the bickering between him and eren while he held your hand the entire time, silently telling you he’d protect you while you shut out the aggressive sound of your father’s voice. 
your love blossomed in stolen moments, snatched between the cracks of duty and expectation. in the hushed whispers of late-night phone calls, the furtive glances exchanged across crowded rooms, and the fleeting touches that set your skin ablaze with longing. the two of you would meet in secret, hidden away from prying eyes and ignorant tongues. in the shadows of the park, where the crickets sang their serenade and the stars twinkled overhead. or in the cozy confines of his pickup truck, parked along lonely stretches of highway, miles from home.
there, in those intimate spaces, you’d lose yourselves in each other. lips meeting in passionate kisses, hands roaming freely, exploring the curves and contours of your bodies. you’d talk with him for hours, sharing hopes and fears, dreaming of a future where you wouldn’t have to hide your love. 
you met on a warm evening on your way to the farmers market, finding him churning butter with broad muscles, naked from his upper body and inked out over his neck and dominant forearm. there’s a slit in his right eyebrow that also held a piercing. slightly wavy brown hair pulled into a bun with baby blue overalls clinging to his skin. 
when he locked eyes with you while you pushed a cute green grocery cart, your heart immediately bloomed. those slanted grayish-green eyes with long, brown lashes of his stealing your strength. his movie star smile with a toothpick lodged between his teeth as he finally caught your gaze. the sun shone down on him, casting a golden glow on his tanned skin and ricocheting off the silver dog tag around his neck making him look even more attractive. 
the man gave you a wink before returning to his task, a sly smile playing on his lips. his arms flexed as he churned a bit harder, obviously showing off now that he knew he had your full attention. shyly, you pull your eyes away from him and pretend you don’t notice him staring as you inspect the vegetables before you. once he had finished, he wiped his hands off on a cloth and strode over to you, his overalls hanging from his hips now after he popped them free in front of you, sweat clinging to his skin. he stood in front of you, a cocky smile plastered on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, a few beauty marks littered across his skin.
he waited for a moment before speaking up, his voice low. “you know, you’re not very good at pretending you don’t notice me.” he chuckled as he spoke. “i can see you stealin’ glances at me from the corner of your eye.”
goddamn, you nearly short circuit from hearing his voice. it’s deep and slightly raspy. the smell of him is almost natural and sweet. you caught a whiff of apple. or maybe butter given he’d been working on it for the past three hours. 
“and if i was?” 
eren’s smirk widened at your snarky response. he took a step closer to you, his body now mere inches away from yours as he looked down at you, tilting his head slightly. “then i’d say you have a thing for hot and sweaty country boys.”
“yuck, that was so corny,” you giggle in his face. 
he rubbed his forehead with his palm, feigning disappointment at your response, but he was secretly enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. “mhm, yeah. it was, wasn’t it? sorry, i’m not good with talkin’ to pretty girls.” 
you hum. “mhm, i bet you say that to all the girls. it’s a small town, and you’re attractive. i hear lies.” 
“y’know, a liar doesn’t usually apologize for his bad pickup lines. unless . . . ” his voice was a low, sultry murmur now, and his eyes held an intensity that made you feel as if he was peering into your soul. the heat from his body felt like it was seeping into your own, and the air around you seemed to crackle with electricity as he spoke. “he means it. and you aren't calling me a liar are you, darlin’?” 
the way he looked at you made your heart thump hard in your chest, and the fact that he was so close made it difficult to think straight. there’s no doubt that this man was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, in real time at least. 
“you’re staring awful hard, like what you see?” 
“maybe i do.” 
“only maybe?” 
“i do,” you playfully roll your eyes. 
“geez, w’na marry me already,” he jokes, and of course you laugh like a lovesick teen. “i like your laugh, it’s cute. teehee.” 
listening to him mocking you made you gasp and lightly hit his arm. “stopp, i don’t sound like that!” 
“do so,” he slowly licks his lips, scanning you from head to toe. “i’d like to get to know you, if you don’t mind.” 
you nearly choked at the suggestion. me? he wants . . me? no way. “uh, you don’t even know me. didn’t even ask if i had a boyfriend.”
“are you tryin' to say you have a boyfriend?” 
“no, i don’t. but, i'm not allowed to.” 
a frown briefly tugged at his lips as he heard what you said, the meaning behind your words sinking in. not allowed to? “how come? strict parents? celibacy? . . nun?”
“okay, asshole,” you scoff. 
eren throws his hands up in defense. “sorry, just honestly askin’.”
you began to fidget at the thought of telling him about it. what if he ran away because he wanted nothing to deal with it? he notices your reluctance, and almost says something to dismiss the conversation for your sake. “my father’s extremely religious, well known in this town, actually. pastor kain.” 
“oh,” eren nods, understanding clearly now. he tried to be as considerate as possible, even though part of him didn’t care. if he wanted you, he’d have you. “so you’re the daughter. funny, me seeing you only now. he’s that strict he don’t let you come out or sum?” 
“ ‘the daughter’. why do you say that as if i have some type of rumor about me going around?”
“no, no, it’s nothing too serious. maybe a little insensitive, but . . i’ve just heard people whispering about your family and whatnot. things like your father being up his own ass or you being a  . . i’ll dial it down to prude ‘cause i find other shit said derogatory, and i'm sure untrue.” 
pursing your lips, you hum at the things being spoken behind your back. it’s not surprising. “thank you for telling me that. i’m sure a lot of people have opinions about me and my family. my dad can be a bit of a hard ass. and i surely wouldn’t call myself a prude. just because my family is religious doesn’t necessarily make me feel the same.”
“you’re not christian?” he asks. 
“no, not at all. i mean, i believe in something. i pray, i talk to someone, but i don’t consider them god. personally, i call them my fairy godmother,” you smile sweetly, thinking that sounded kind of silly. “sorry, that must sound childish.” 
“it doesn’t, it’s cute,” he chuckles. “i feel the same. agnostic is the term for me. plus, i’m more of a spiritual person. crystals and shit.” 
your brows raise. “wow, that’s rare to hear a man say that, at least here. it’s refreshing.” 
"why's that? you not from here?"
"nah, me and my mother are from the city. philly. he ended up moving us here after getting the deed to his grandfather's house. we've been here since i was ten."
eren shifts where he stands, removing the hair tie from his hair that cascaded down to his shoulders. tucking a strand behind one of his ears and shoving his hands into his pockets. “so does he have you on lockdown for the summer?” 
“pretty much. he’s got me set on studying for college. any other distraction in my path he throws a fit. i usually have free time whenever my mom needs something, like groceries for instance. i have friends and shit, i promise.” 
eren rolls his tongue and plants another toothpick in his mouth, chewing on it and watching as you curiously observe. to do the honors, he answers before you ask. “cigarette addiction. tryna cut back.” 
“makes sense.” 
“how’s about we keep it a secret?"
his tone was firm yet determined as he spoke. he knew it wouldn’t be easy to keep a relationship a secret from the pastor, especially with how overprotective the man was of his daughter. but he was willing to do it, to give you a chance to be happy and not live the way your father demanded. life’s too short, and you’re young and pretty. the thought of sneaking around with you, being your dirty little secret, made his heart thump in excitement. he was never one to play by the rules anyway.
“you mean like . . sneak around?”
“yeah. with your permission, of course.” 
for some reason, his intentions felt sexual. maybe he had heard the rumors and wanted to see what you were like and change that. you’re not a virgin, luckily the person who took it moved out of town therefore it remained a secret from everyone. he’s pretty to look at, nice on the eyes, fairly polite, and a flirt. but, you couldn’t put your finger on it. and if this was going to be a waste of your time, you surely didn’t want to risk your father finding out. 
so, you decline. “i gotta go, i’m sorry. it was nice meeting you though.” 
eren couldn’t help the slight grimace that appeared on his face when you extract your hand to give him a handshake. it felt so formal and . . cold. your dismissive tone and gesture made it seem like you were done, like you were giving up on the possibility of even interacting with him again. he wanted to question you further, but didn’t want to come off as pushy. 
“yeah, same to you.” 
while flashing a final smile, you push your cart around him to head for the check out counter. 
“when can i see you again?!” he shouts across the open market, hands cuffed around his mouth so you hear him loud and clear. 
“around!” 
eren felt a small ache of disappointment at your vague response, but couldn’t help but smile at the frantic pace you left him at. he knew he’d see you again, he’d make sure of it. two weeks passed and the city’s fair was bustling with the townships' people. one they held every year right before halloween. you’d volunteer to help your mom with her candy apple stand, taking any opportunity not to be stuck home studying. 
the county area was picturesque, a perfect example of the serene beauty of rural life. the fields stretched out as far as the eye could see, rolling hills dotted with occasional trees breaking up the endless stretches of greenery. cows and sheep could be seen grazing in the distance, their peaceful presence adding to the tranquility of the setting. the air was clean and crisp, carrying the scent of grass and wildflowers as the sun set into the night. the fair being held was a hive of activity. children running around laughing and excited chatter adding to the general din of the crowds. the smell of food wafted through the air, the scent of funnel cakes and other fried goods mingling with the underlying aroma of hay and dirt. bull rides and horse races occurring. 
eren found himself wandering through the fair, his thoughts preoccupied as he looked around. he didn’t really feel like playing games or participating in activities right now, he just wanted to clear his mind. but as he strolled past the laughing crowds of people, he paused, noticing a familiar figure nearby. his heart skipped a beat as he recognized you, and a small jolt of excitement coursed through him. your dressed in dark blue low rise affliction jeans that were flared towards the bottom along with a matching vest top and black western boots. a plain black cowboy hat atop of your head. your hairstyle changed completely the last time he saw you. it’s longer, reaching the middle of your back in soft, curly bora bora braids. you looked beautiful. straight out of a dream. a magazine even. 
the wind blows roughly, and from where he stood he could smell the gourmand of your perfume. he stopped only a few feet from you, shoving his hands in his pockets in an attempt to look casual. despite the outward appearance of coolness, his heart was beating fast against his chest, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness coursing through his veins. he hoped you’d be happy to see him again, but he also couldn’t shake the fear that you might reject him. . . again. 
you were stationed at a small booth, an array of freshly made candy apples neatly lined up for sale. the aroma of sweet, sticky apples mixed with the sugary coating filled the air. a woman who stood beside you who stole your entire face, or more-like you stole hers, taking orders from customers, dipping each apple into the thick, red coating before handing it over with a smile. as he drew closer to you, he plastered a careless smile on his face, trying to appear nonchalant. he raised a hand in greeting, waving at you casually.
“hey, what a coincidence.” 
catching his attention, the glint in your eyes reads more than your face does, discreetly giving flirty while your smile is faint. you’re stunned to see him, in fact. briefly eyeing your mother before speaking. “oh, hi! um. . . didn’t catch your name before.” 
“oh, uh. it’s eren. yeager. eren yeager.” 
he felt a slight flush of embarrassment as he said his name. he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to even introduce himself when he’d first met you. he’d been so eager to get to know you, to convince you to give him a chance, that he’d completely forgotten to mention his own name.
“right, how are you?” 
“uh, good. yeah, i'm good.” 
“are you here with family?” 
“nah, i’m here with some friends. they’re wandering off somewhere,” he says. “are you? is your father here?” 
“he isn’t, actually. i just volunteered to help my mom out with her stand!”
eren’s smile grew just a fraction bigger at your response. he was silently grateful to whatever divine entity was watching over him for keeping your father from being here. it gave him a chance to talk to you freely. 
“is that so? so you’re not being watched over right now?”
“i’m twenty, i don’t need to be watched.”
“point taken,” he purses his lips, eyes trailing over to your mother who was clearly ear-hustling. eren decides to introduce himself. “how you doin’, ma’am. it’s a pleasure meeting you.”
“oh, hello!” your mother smiled back, turning her body fully to take in his sudden attention. she’s just a smaller version of you, same pretty face now slowly wrinkling with time. gray kinky curly hair that grazes her shoulders. she’s dressed in a long navy blue dress painted with yellow daises, a white apron draped around her neck. she smiles at eren’s charming demeanor. “are you a friend of my daughter's?” 
he gave a small nod. "yes, that's right.” 
you could tell your mother scrutinized him for a moment, taking in his appearance. she could tell he was well-groomed and well-spoken, but she also had a watchful eye for any potential troublemakers. she glanced over at you, noting the way you were watching the interaction between the two of them, and then glanced back at eren.
“well it’s nice to meet you. i don’t believe you gave me your name,” she nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze still appraising him. 
“apologies. i’m eren yeager, ma’am.” 
she took in his name and the way he presented himself, weighing him silently in her mind. she was clearly being protective, trying to figure out if he was a suitable friend for you or not. you sigh deeply, twirling your fingers anxiously. eren notices. 
“ah, so you’re the eren i’ve heard about. the troublemaker.” 
“ma. .” you eye her, as if telling her not to start. 
he smiled innocently, a small hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. he didn't think he was quite as bad as the rumors might’ve made him out to be, but he also knew that he wasn't exactly the most picture-perfect person. 
“troublemaker, huh? didn’t know i was known for that. i can tell you that i'm the sweetest person you’ll know if that eases you.” 
“hm,” your mother squints suspiciously, a small giggle, surprising to you at least, coming from her. you blink at her, brows furrowing. does she find him sweet? “aren’t you charming. i hope you stand by your word.” 
this was becoming awkward for you. given the way you were raised and the household you grew up in, your mother was always the sweet one. stern when needed, but for the most part she let you be your own person. she still had heavy concerns for the people you chose to surround yourself with. and a man wasn’t exactly something she’d be ecstatic with. but with her sickness, and unknowing of the time she had left, she’d let her guard down to see you happy. if he were to break your heart, it’d only be a lesson you’d have to learn on your own. 
you remove your sight off of the pretty boy before you, the stand quieting down from attraction to hold her shoulder endearingly. “mama, would it be okay if i stepped away for a bit? just to talk.”
“just for a bit, alright? and make sure you’re only talking,” she says, throwing eren a warning glare. you groan, titling your head annoyingly. 
eren nodded in understanding, silently vowing not to do anything that would give your mother a reason to get between you two. the last thing he needed was a scolding from a protective parent, especially one as dedicated as yours. he already had to potentially worry about your father. he gave your mother a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her worry just a bit. “don’t worry, ma'am. we’re just going to head to the hoedown for a dance.” 
you shoot him a look, dancing sounds different from talking. he smirks. 
“alright, fine. but you be back before ten, okay? no funny business.” 
shaking your head, you give her a peck on the cheek. “promise mama. thank you.” 
“mhm hmm.” 
she watches eren step aside as you remove your apron, maneuvering around the stand as he elongates his arm with a gentle ‘after you’, the two of you strolling away, but not before you turn to look back, giving her a grateful yet giddy smile. your mother chuckles, waving and smiling back, her heart warming at the sight of eren reaching to hold your hand that you hesitated to take before giving in. she couldn’t help but think this was going to be trouble. 
“she seems nice,” eren mutters, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. 
you can’t help but roll your eyes. “yeah, she’s very sweet. just can be a bit overprotective.” 
“it’s good you have parents that care for you like that,” he replied, an almost sad tone in his voice. 
"yeah, they. . they're cool," you say, faltering slightly as you try to find the right words. “what about yours?” 
you look up at eren, trying to catch his eyes, but he's staring straight ahead, his jaw set and his expression closed off. it’s clear that he doesn't want to dive too deep into it, but you can't help but wonder what could've happened to make him react like this. he clears his throat uncomfortably, protectively holding you close as he guides you through the crowd. it makes your heart jump. 
“dad isn’t the best.” 
“. . oh.” 
the ranch slowly comes into view, the sounds of music thrumming louder as you approach. there’s a large, open space filled with people dressed in their best western attire, a sense of excitement and nervousness overtaking you. eren leads you through to make your way towards the center of the ranch, where the dancing and festivities are already in full swing. the music is lively and upbeat, couples twirling and spinning across the makeshift dance floor. others chugging down drinks at the bar. 
“you w’na show me how you move?” there’s a certain look in his eye, something else that you can't quite identify. his confidence is infectious. 
the crowds contagious, and it’s clear that everyone is having a great time. but you can’t help but fidget at the thought of dancing with someone you’re extremely attracted to. who smelt like patchouli, dressed in all black with tan, slightly roughed up cowboy boots. who’s smile is as bright as the moon, chocolate long hair making him look like the prettiest prince. it felt like a date. and technically, this would be your very first one. which, now that you’re thinking about it, is probably why your mom looked at you the way she did. 
you cower, biting your lip. “um, i . . can’t dance. at least the way they are.” 
eren raises his brow at your declaration. “really? hm.” 
you swallow when eren’s hand pulls you a little closer by your hip, gently resting there to guide you into position. "don't worry. i’ll lead, and you just follow. it’s not rocket science, right?"
“okay.” 
he starts to move, slowly guiding you into a basic step. despite your lack of knowledge, you try your best to keep up with him, your eyes glancing down at your feet every now and then out of fear of tripping. eren notices your hesitation and gives a small laugh. he keeps his arm around your waist, making sure you don't falter.
"relax. you’re doing fine. stop looking at your feet so much. you’re going to fall if you keep it up.” 
“sorry,” you giggle, your initial nerves starting to fall off as you let him guide you. 
he spins you around gracefully, his hand still firmly holding you in place. you're starting to get the hang of it, your body slowly moving in time to the music. the expression on eren’s face is a mix of amusement and pride; it's clear he's enjoying teaching you to dance. as the music changes to a slightly faster beat, he picks up the pace a bit, twirling you around with practiced ease. his steps are confident, his grip firm yet comfortable. you find yourself actually enjoying the experience, laughing at your own clumsy attempts to keep up with him. his smile widens, his eyes shining with a playful glint as he watches you. amused by your honest attempts of catching up. 
the music slows down eventually, and now plays a soft melody that has couples pulling each other closer to slow dance romantically. rolling your lips inward, you beam up at him with a soft chuckle. i’ll be by edwin mccain playing, and it happened to be one of your favorite songs. the moment becomes intimate, and eren makes a move to rest both hands on your lower back to pull you even closer so your chest touches his. the warmth from his body onto yours gives you goosebumps. it gets more romantic when he places your arms on his shoulder, your hands interlocking while his eyes lock onto yours. bodies swaying slowly with the melodious tune.
“don’t know if i told you how pretty you are.”
you can feel a flutter in your chest at the unexpected compliment. you turn your eyes away from him, a small smile playing on your lips as you try and hide your reaction. you can feel the warmth rising in your face, and you have a feeling he notices it too. “and i told you that you say that to all the girls.”
you’re unsure what switched, but his face grows calm, studying your face intently, hugging you closer as if you’d slip away. that makes you alert. “so . . your mother thinks i’m trouble. i’m not sure what you’ve heard about me. we do live in a small town so shit gets around, including rumors. but, what i’m worried about is how you perceive me.” 
the tone in his voice catches you off guard, his eyes fixed on yours with an almost vulnerable expression. “um, i haven’t heard anything about you to be honest. i don’t really stick my nose in drama, or the bullshit older folks gossip about. clearly, my mom knows, and i’ve heard something minor about your father. . i just — don’t want things like that to cloud my judgment of you. i’d wanna get to know you from you.”
he swallows, trying to contain his thankfulness. “seriously?” 
“yeah, i mean . .” you shrug shyly. “people don’t necessarily have many nice things to say about me or my family apparently. i guess you could say we’re two peas in a pod.” 
“outcasts,” eren prys in a small joke. 
“complicated, whatever. misconceptions everyone makes when they don’t know shit. if i get to know you, and get what i think we want to get from each other, and it turns out to be great or goes completely to shit? then that’s for me to decide when i’m ready.” 
“you’re absolutely right,” he sighs. “i fuckin’ hate this town sometimes. i’m twenty-three ‘n i feel like i'm stuck here. i just wanna run away and start a new life.” 
“i feel the same,” you weakly smile, thoughts flashing around in your head. “this doesn’t feel like home anymore. the community is perfect exterior-wise, but deep down everyone’s a little demented. and believe it or not, my life is miserable. my father’s too overbearing, my mom's sick. they have these high expectations of me, like going to college and honoring the family’s name. but, i’m starting to realize it’s not what i want anymore. i’m only doing it to please them. my father legit made me take a year off just to make sure i’m fully prepared for college.”
“has your father always been strict like that?” eren switches with you as more people make way on the floor, facing south now. the star lights hung on the ceiling setting the mood as more love music played. 
“since i was a kid, yeah. he’s always had these values he believed we should uphold. ‘keeping’ the families guidance, child’ he would say,” eren watches you chuckle dryly, his jaw clenching. “often times i wonder why my mother married someone like him when she’s the complete opposite. i’m guessing he was different when they were younger. sometimes i think i ruined their love.” 
“don’t think that, ꒰♡꒱,” hearing your name come from him made you squeeze his hand tighter, oddly feeling comforted. “whatever problems they have aren’t because of you. they decided to bring you into this world, therefore it’s their job to raise you to be the best you can be. and i think you’re great, and you can think for yourself and do whatever you want with your life.” 
“thank you, eren.” 
“mhm,” eren searches your face continuously, memorizing every detail of expression. for future notes. “do you think he’s so hard on you because he never got the opportunities you have? or ‘cause, you know, you’re his only girl?” eren asks. 
instantly, you nod. “yeah, that’s definitely it. he’s afraid to make a mistake. granted, he’s made a few already. no parent is perfect, but it’d be nice if he’d see me as the adult i am now and not just his baby girl. or perceive me as this sweet little church girl whose only values in life are to please her parents and have awards to hang in the house to boast about when we get visitors.” 
“that’s gotta be hard, i’m sorry.” 
“it’s okay. i’d also be the first in my family to attend college. i got offered a scholarship to brown, which is why he has me studying till i bleed. figuratively, of course.” 
“wow, an ivy league. that’s big.” 
“thanks, i’m a genius,” you roll your eyes sarcastically. your hands drop from his neck, entwining your right hand with his left, eren wrapping his arm around your waist as you two dance that way. “your hands are really soft.” 
“all that butter i be churnin’,” he cackles. his face grows serious once more, and yet again you’re unable to read him. “listen, so . . i w’na tell you that i really am drawn to you. i like you, ‘n i’d like to get to know you. who knows, maybe one day we can run away together from our lives here, some cliché shit like that.” 
“i . . yeah. i really wanna get to know you, too.”
“ooh, you likin’ me?” he flirts. 
you can't help but give him a small smile, your cheeks flushing slightly. this lovesick feeling you get around him was something you’d only read about in novels hauled up in your bedroom to escape reality. it felt nice. 
"maybe i am. what if i am?"
"i like the sound of that," he replies, his voice a soft murmur just above your ear. "i like it a lot, actually."
you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the closeness making your heartbeat quicken. you try to tell yourself that it's just the dance, just the music, that's making you feel this way, but deep down, you know it's more than that. something about eren, something about the way he's looking at you right now, is stirring up feelings you haven't felt before.
“you know," he says, his voice low and intimate, "would it be too early for me to ask to kiss you?”
and that followed up with more forbidden kisses. the two of you tried to see each other four days out of the week, of course, sunday’s being off limits. you’d run to the market for your mother and spend most of your time at eren’s farm feeding the animals and helping him work. making up an excuse when your mother asked why you took so long. the two of you decided it was best to keep your relationship private from both your mother and father until the time was right. there are nights when you would sneak out when your parents were sleeping to make out in the back of his pickup truck under the stars. 
play fighting in the lake, writing each other love letters, running into his arms whenever you saw him while he spun you around and held you tight. every moment spent with him felt like a novel. every kiss feels like a risk, every touch like a secret act of rebellion. living a double life pretending to be just friends. the intimacy of stolen moments you share is like a secret language, a bond forged by the very secrecy that threatens to keep you apart. a month into the relationship, eren surprised you with a date at the same ranch where you shared your first dance. decorating the back of his truck with blankets, pillows, and tons of snacks for a drive-in movie casting on the back of the ranch. he made love to you for the first time that night. 
pastor kain and most of the god-fearing parents in this town knew that eren had a reputation for being rowdy and a sweet talker with the girls. he’s not necessarily someone they’d see their daughter for. and eren will admit he’s made some poor decisions in life, but that didn’t make up for who he was deep inside. nobody knew him. they only knew the surface level of what was spoken of him and his family. the yeager's. eren practically runs the farm that’s in his mother’s name, working his ass off every day while his father wastes himself in heavy liquor on the living room couch. he could’ve left a long time ago, but his attachment to his mother and what she built refused to let him pull away. 
his father made a few public appearances that tarnished their family name further. altercations with good people in town for giving him dirty looks or speaking with ill intent on his son. a father forever, but a horrible dad through and through. his reputation already ruined eren’s. a lot of people assumed he’d be exactly like his father; a drunk, and an abuser. his mother going without peace in a horrible fight between the two causing her heart attack. eren hates that he can’t let him go, having a few nasty fist fights himself. maybe he’s hoping he’d get better one day and be someone. but that was far from what will happen. 
eventually, you and eren sneaking around had to end when word got out about it through your father’s church; an older woman calling you a slut and stating that you’ll be no good dealing with a yeager. it’s clear they were truly disliked in this town full of idiots and sinners themselves. ‘holier than thou, up their asses, pretentious dicks!’ is what eren had to say about it. you and your father had one of the worst arguments of your life. a total scream fest when he found out. 
eren sat outside in his truck, anxiously bouncing his leg, eventually exiting to pace around on your porch. you come out with tears streaming down your face, eyes red and puffy. eren falls apart, cooing ‘awe, baby’ before embracing you into a tight hug, his strong arms burying your face into the warmth of his chest. 
“he just doesn’t understand. i don’t get why he doesn’t understand,” you choke on your sobs, eren brushing a hand down the back of your head, kissing it after. 
“let me talk to him,” eren suggests, and instantly you’re disagreeing, backing away and trembling. 
“no, eren. i told you, nothing we can say will get through to him. he’s fuckin’ hopeless!” 
“kain, stop it!” your mother’s frantic voice could be heard shouting at your father from inside, glass being thrown out of anger. 
the blood flows through eren’s veins viscerally, an intense feeling settling within him, bringing back memories of his own mother. the booming voices of his father and items being tossed, knocked down, or torn. without another word, he’s rushing into your home intending to set things straight. you panic, following his lead, unaware of what he is capable of when angry. you’ve never seen him on that level before. you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t put his hands on your parent, and he was respectful to show proper communication. 
“eren!” your voice croaks, tailgating him as he approaches your father’s office where the commotion ensues. 
“he’s corrupting our child! why can’t you see that?!” 
eren stands tall, pulling you behind him protectively as he meets pastor kain’s accusing glare with unwavering determination. 
“who told you to step foot into my home, boy?” pastor kain grits, your mother standing idly beside him, pain wretched over her face. your lips begin to tremble, hating seeing her that way. you never wanted this to be the outcome. you just wanted to love this man. why should you be punished for that? 
“corrupting her?” eren chooses to ignore his statement and cut to the main issue. “sir, with all due respect, it’s not your decision to say who she can ‘n cannot be with. i have no intent to hurt her, which is exactly what you’re doing right now. we've made choices based on what's best for us, for our future. ‘n while those choices may differ from what you had planned, they are ours to make.”  
“and who gave you permission to include yourself into my daughter's plans?” the man snarled, eyeing you as you sob behind eren aggressively. your cries paining eren’s heart. you were too broken to stand up for yourself right now. feeling like you’ve been doing that for your entire existence. it felt safe to have eren handle things for you. 
“she did, because she’s an adult and i will marry her whether you give us your blessing or not,” his voice rises, tinged with a hint of defiance. the word marriage drives your father into madness. “i will never apologize for loving your daughter, for wanting to build a life with her. if that makes me a bad decision in your eyes, then so be it. but i refuse to let you dictate the course of our happiness.” 
his gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and disappointment. the tension hung heavy in the air, the weight of their disagreement pressing down upon them. yet amidst the conflict, there was an undercurrent of love and concern, a testament to the complex bond that existed between father and daughter. your father holds a hand to his heart as if it’s torn, strolling around his brown desk to take a seat. 
“you’re going to let him speak for you, ꒰♡꒱. speak to me like this? there’s no respect for me anymore?” 
your sniffles are loud, removing your face from the middle of eren’s broad back to stand your ground, elevating your head and clutching his hand tighter. “i truly don’t know what else i can say to you, daddy. i’m not fond of the life you have planned for me. i will always be your daughter, but i can’t and will not be this little girl you want to have control over. i am an adult, therefore you have to treat me as such. i no longer want to attend college because of my own decision. it was always your dream, not mine. eren had nothing to do with these transitions. i am allowed to love whomever i please.” 
the room falls silent as your parents stare at you, your mother placing her hands over her chest with loving despair. she herself has made multiple attempts to try and change her husband's point of view, but nothing surpasses. eren glances at you, eyes shining with adoration and protectiveness. 
“it’s not that i won’t let you live your life. it’s that i don’t approve of who you’re trying to give your life to. what can he do for you?” 
eren feels a sense of inferiority. “i may not come from wealth, but i am not a man of indolence. your daughter is a remarkable woman who deserves everything she wishes for. she knows her own mind ‘n heart, ‘n she's chosen me. ‘n i love her for that. i’m not belittling your concerns, but i can not, in good conscience, abandon the woman i love’ needs. we may not fit the mold you've envisioned, but i love her and will continue to whether you disapprove or not. i will provide for her, take care of her. she never has to lift a finger while with me.” 
pastor kain’s face contorted in anguish, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world bore down upon him. he looked at you, then at eren, his eyes searching for some glimmer of understanding, some shred of compromise.
“oh lord, have mercy on us all,” with a heavy sigh, he turned away, his voice barely audible as he spoke. “you’ve made your choice clear, ꒰♡꒱. you’re choosing to leave the only home you've ever known, turnin' your back on the only family you've ever had. and for what? a fleeting romance with a man who can't even provide you with a stable future? someone rowdy with a poor excuse of a father? a flirt who can’t handle his greed for women? you want me to be happy for you? for this? he ain’t good for you, baby girl. and i will stand by that for as long as i breathe.” 
that’s when all of you equally realized that no matter what was said, his opinion will remain one sided. admitting defeat as a whole. anything that was said completely flew over his head, and only his view mattered. it’s narcissistic, and bizarre. eren was baffled, in fact. 
the waves of pain crash down on you, wishing he would just understand you, and be happy for you. to approve and give his blessings. to tell you that the man you’re in love with is good for you. eren holds you as your body grows weak, almost falling over. it’s clear the effect this had on you, and he fucking hated it. 
“i just want you to . . you don’t even k-know him.” 
he shook his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i fear for your soul, my dear.” 
i fear for your soul. that haunted your dreams like nothing else ever had. it was by far the vilest thing you’d ever heard your father say to you. it made you cry for days on end. breaking your heart over and over again. weakening since the moment you’d packed your suitcase and said goodbye to your mother. you no longer saw your father as family. giving her a heartfelt embrace and kissing your home goodbye. four months later, your mother passed away. regret ached at you for not seeing her as much after you left with eren. you’d seen her only a few times after the horrible fight, spending the day with her as she gave eren an extreme apology as well as her approval. she prayed you’d forgive your father, to give him grace. 
the last time you saw your father was at your mother’s funeral. and the look on his face remained the same towards eren; disgust. you still loved your father a great deal, but the respect no longer resides. you’d comfort him, check on him occasionally, but keep your distance to protect your peace. after your mother received a beautiful burial, you continued your future with eren. marrying in secrecy two months later. in the aftermath of loss, the two of you found solace in each other. amidst the grief and chaos, your love became a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there could still be beauty. so, in a quiet ceremony surrounded by close friends, you vowed to spend the rest of your lives together. 
as you exchanged rings and sealed your union with a kiss, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. for a moment, nothing else mattered except the love you shared, the future you would build together. a good thing that came out of this was eren’s father getting clean and giving him a letter from his mother he’d kept hidden on his own accord. a title for land she’d purchased just for him to do what he pleased. eren’s father held down the farm while eren decided to build your dream home on the new land. and he stood by his word. 
it was hard for eren to forgive his father, but he appreciated that he wanted to be better. it’d never bring his mother back, nor heal the bruises on his heart, but it was something. once he built this home for the two of you, he’d never have to see him again. it seemed like both of you were running away from your father’s. it was scary how somewhat similar your situations were. you became acquainted with his father out of respect, helping with the farm to pass time as eren focused on building the house with his friends. it helped you clear your mind surprisingly, always adoring animals and gardening. it’s something you wanted to do once the house was ready as a hobby. 
some days were really hard, grieving not only the death of your mother but the separation from your father. you felt bad for the many nights you cried in eren’s arms about it. luckily he didn’t invalidate your feelings. he constantly reassured you that everything you felt was natural, and he had no problem comforting you on your lowest days. and that if anyone understood the pain of losing a mother, it’d be him. he truly was your angel. who would’ve thought a man you’d met at a market one random day would be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with. 
eren spent an entire year and a half building a charming little cottage nestled in a scenic countryside setting out of town, about an hour. it’s a cozy, quaint structure with a warm, homey feeling. the exterior is made of white wood, front adorned by a wrap-around porch, blue shutters, and a few flowers in pots. the windows are large and welcoming, bringing in natural light and a lovely view of the surrounding landscape. he’d built your dream kitchen, tall windows overlooking the garden. a bathroom with a clawfoot tub and double sinks. and a library so you could read and write. he did it all. 
you stood beside him, hand resting on the small of his back as you surveyed your new home. 
"this is perfect," you whispered, voice filled with emotion as tears well in your eyes. “it’s everything i’ve ever wanted, eren. thank you.” 
eren turned to you, his eyes shining with love and pride. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. the scent of your perfume mingled with the earthy aroma of nature filling his senses with comfort.
“i meant what i said, i'd do anything to make you happy,” he murmured, breath tickling your skin. he tilts your chin up, gaze locking with yours as he brushes a stray curl behind your ear, the tears falling down your brown cheeks. “you’re the most important thing in my life, and now we get to share this space, these memories, everything. together."
‎‎               𐦍
a storm is raging outside on the day of your anniversary, and it only raises your anxiety for your husband currently working in this weather. you’d set up the dining area to surprise eren, spending hours in the kitchen to perfect the tastiest meal. you’d always be sure to welcome him home with a good meal after hard labor. talks of the storm have been on a loop, playing on the living room tv repeatedly. one of your worst fears was a natural disaster. for it to possibly happen today of all days felt like a big joke. 
you’ve been trying to keep your mind off it, praying for eren’s safety while anxiously nibbling at your cross necklace. you’ve tried to contact him a few times, but gotten no response. assuming he was busy, you left it alone, knowing he’d get back to you as soon as he was available. service was probably terrible out there. within the next moment, as you set the oven to three sixty-five and placed the round cake pan in, the sound of the front door swinging open alerts you. you hear that familiar sound of house keys jangling, and your heart nearly combusts at the realization that your husband made it home. 
the oven mitts come off, and immediately you’re bolting towards the living room; a sweet scent of roses wafting up from the extreme wind blowing into the house and the bouquet in his hand. “where you at, baby? i’m home!” 
his voice calling out to you makes you giggle, echoing through the warm house. a few seconds later, you emerged from the archway, a smile beaming on your pretty face as you ran into his arms, eren chuckling as he caught you and your legs wrapped around his waist. kissing at his face in relief.
“baby, i was so, so nervous. the storms gettin’ worse by the day. i thought you were stuck somewhere. you weren’t answering your phone ‘n i got so scareddd,” you bury your face in the crook of his tatted neck, nearly sobbing as you clutch him tight. 
it’s true, the weather was horrible. trees knocking down, power going out, roads blocked. it happened out of the blue. they’re saying a hurricane is a high possibility. why you’re finding out last minute? who fucking knows. unfortunately, he was on the clock today working at the plant, his highlighted yellow vest adorned on his shoulders as he stepped himself out of his dirty timberlands. luckily they were collectively told to head home early for safety reasons. 
“oh, darlin’, i’m alright. my body’s intact,” he kisses your cheek. “i told you to stop watchin’ the news. it makes you more sensitive.” 
he sets you down slowly, your bare feet hitting the ground while you pout up at him. your curls were tousled as if you'd just rolled out of bed, but you looked beautiful, breath catching in his throat actually. especially dressed up in this dark red two-piece set. cute ruffled shorts and a skimpy bra accentuating your every curve in a way that left little to the imagination. the swell of your ass, hips, and thickness of your thighs that touch swallows the material salaciously. your skin is smooth, always. scented with dewberries and magnolia. 
“fuck, baby,” he breathed, voice low and husky as his hand slips down to grip your ass, spanking you hard as you squeak. “i like this on you. you look pretty.” 
“thank you, baby,” your eyes sparkle with affection. “i wanted today to be special. i made dinner and all. but the storm had me shittin’ myself.” 
“that’s why i gotcha these before the flower shop closed. well, i ordered ‘em ahead of time ‘n miss valerie let me pick ‘em up,” eren hands you the assortment of flowers in his hand, blooming red roses and cream calla lilies swarmed in black wrapping paper. you take them, adoringly jutting out your lower lip more. “happy anniversary, sweetheart.”
“you’re such a sweetie, rennie,” you lay your chin on his chest, leaning into him while looking up at him with puppy eyes. “thank you.” 
“mhm hmm,” eren loses focus already, clutching the side of your face before leveling his neck lower to capture your lips in a searing kiss, bottom lip dropping to enclose your mouth with his. 
the kiss is slow and filled with passion, eyes shutting in sync as you moan from his taste. he smelt like he’d done hard labor and the musk of his cologne he’d spritzed at six in the morning, but you loved it. every time. your fantasies just get more disgusting as you age. the heavy toolbelt that’s sliding down his hips, the white crewneck, slightly stained with patches of oil almost eating up his muscles, showcasing his tatted right arm and neck. wedding band around his finger as he holds your face to aggressively kiss your smaller frame. he’s forever hot. 
the savory aroma of dinner wafted up from the oven, momentarily breaking the spell. with a groan, he reluctantly pulled back, eyes never leaving yours. "i smell food.” 
"well, since you've gone through all that trouble, i showed my appreciation properly." 
as you drag him towards the dining room, his gaze falls upon the beautifully set table, the flickering candlelight casting a romantic glow across the darkly lit room. confetti littered the surface, a whimsical touch that added to the celebratory atmosphere. a chilled bottle of wine sat in a silver bucket. he watched you slip on your oven mitts to retrieve the food you were keeping warm. eren surveys the spread, the tantalizing aroma of perfectly steamed lobster claws glistened with butter, while the filet mignon looked pink and juicy. his stomach growls with anticipation, only eating the lunch you packed for him earlier in the day containing birria ramen and pork dumplings. 
“damn, you always do so well. good job, baby,” he marveled, heart swelling with admiration for your thoughtfulness. his praises making your face heat up. he does it so much you’re not sure if he realizes how it makes you feel. "everything looks so good. let me jus’ shower real quick ‘n we can dig in, yeah?” 
“noo,” you protest. eren arches a brow. with a flourish, you poured two glasses, the rich red liquid swirling seductively in the crystal bowls. “love you like this.” 
eren cracks a smirk, sucking his teeth in amusement. “you’re so dirty, girl.” 
"you like it,” you raise your glass in a silent salute. “come eat. i need you thick.” 
“shut it.” 
you scream as he hits your ass playfully, sneaking behind you to kiss your cheek while you snort, eren pulling out your chair like a gentleman so you can sit, soon taking his adjacent to you. for the next hour the two of you enjoyed each other's company, laughing in faces, getting tipsy, love bites and sensual touching . . the usual. eren thanked you repeatedly for how good the food was, soothing old-school rnb playing soundly low in the background while he washed the dishes as you spread chocolate icing on the cake you baked. it was a moment of simple domesticity, a glimpse into the everyday life you’d built together. once the last plate was put away, your husband dried his hands and turned to face you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he watched you sip your wine while you spread the icing spatula over the cake, humming to the tune. 
slowly, he approaches you, coming behind you and planting kisses along your neck, your hand dropping the spatula while your eyes falter shut. his kisses are filthy, his hands groping you to push your ass back onto the outline of his dick now hard in his jeans for a while. he slowly trails a hand up your throat to clutch, pushing you against the counter nearly bending you over fully. 
you moan, rubbing your ass back on him as his hands roam over your body, a wine glass in your hand as you close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder. you reached beside yourself, fingers trailing lightly down his forearm where his hand slips in between your thighs, groaning on your skin as he rocks his erection against the shape of your ass. a delicate gasp falls from you, setting your wine glass down and hooking your arm behind yourself to hold his head in place. 
“c’mere,” eren licks his lips, your skin prickling with heat as he guides you closer to him by your abdomen, spreading your thighs further apart to slot his fingers into your ruffled bloomers. 
his teeth nip at your earlobe while he grunts and rolls the pads of his rough fingers against your clit, a cute sound emitting from your mouth. your jaw is agape, eren hissing when you tug at his hair the minute he’s sliding his middle fingers into your pussy, stretching you open as his thumb strums your clit, tugging your bloomers down to your knees with the hook of his thumb. instantly, you’re falling apart. moans breaking out in short whimpers and high gasps, grinding into his palm. eren arches over you, free hand palming the countertop which your hand rests over to grab for leverage, wedding bands touching, his breath heavy on your flushed skin.  
"there we go, take it baby,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with desire and encouragement. he leans in to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to mingle with yours. 
“babyy,” you’re whimpering, his fingers long and entirely deep inside of you. the loud squelch of your pussy fueling him. 
eren’s fingers scissor and curl to hit that perfect spot inside you, your moans growing louder, hips rocking to match his rhythm. the dual stimulation of his fingers fucking you while he thumbs at your clit has your body trembling with anticipation, the wine in both of your systems heightening every feeling. the desperate clench around his fingers only increases his efforts, pumping his fingers faster and applying more pressure to your sensitive bud.
the sudden insistent knocking at the door shattered the intimate mood. you froze, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes shot open to glance at him, a mix of annoyance and concern etched on his features as you watch his jaw clench. he wants to ignore it, but the worry on your face tells him not to. he’s groaning. 
“the hell could that be?" he muttered under his breath, your mind racing with possibilities. it wasn't uncommon for neighbors to stop by, but during a severe storm? you’d think everyone would be hauled up at home. 
groaning yourself, you fix yourself up, scrunching your face from the uncomfortable feeling of wetness sticking between your thighs. wanting to stomp in irritation, you go to grab a soapy towelette as eren’s too busy licking you clean off his fingers while shaking your head and wiping his hand. 
“do you think it could be the county police? maybe they’re checking to see if everyone’s safe,” you say, going to search for one of eren’s oversized hoodies to toss over your head and cover your body appropriately. 
“could be. i heard a few people’s had their power knocked out. i’m hoping we won’t have to evacuate.” 
eren takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever interruption awaited. with a reluctant sigh, he strode towards the front door once you were ready. as he unlocked it, he made sure to securely have a tight grip on it since the wind was ridiculous out. the last thing the two of you expected was to see a familiar face awaiting, going into shock as you see your father standing on the other side, his gaze sweeping over eren before settling onto you. 
“pastor,” eren greeted him curtly, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the annoyance simmering beneath the surface. he steps aside, letting the man inside so he wouldn’t get knocked over by the raging winds. “come in if you must.” 
eren shuts the door, standing tall next to you. he’s confused why he’s here, hoping his visit wasn’t a thinly veiled attempt to criticize his relationship with you once again. then again, it’s been three years since he’s personally seen him. of course you kept him in your life, just extremely briefly. you stand beside eren, feeling his tension and bracing yourself for an uncomfortable confrontation. pastor kain’s presence fills the room with an awkward heaviness, and you can almost sense the disapproval radiating off him in palpable waves.
“daddy, what are you doing here?" you ask softly, worry and curiosity inked in your voice. 
as pastor kain stepped further into the house, his eyes roamed the space, taking in the evidence of you and your husband’s shared life together. the cozy living room, adorned with photos of you two, hinted at the love and connection you’d built. the faint scent of the dinner you had not long ago, a reminder of the domestic bliss you’d created.
“i was in the neighborhood and wanted to see my daughter. the storm’s really bad, and i got worried. hopefully i'm not interrupting anything.” 
your eyes soften, smiling faintly. "thank you for doing that. i’m glad you stopped by. but you should be home. why were you out in this weather?” 
“had to drop cherry off at the vet, she ain’t doing too good,” your father frowned, the mention of the dog he’d gotten a while after your mother passed makes you sympathize. 
“oh, i’m sorry to hear that. she gon’ be okay?” 
“can’t say for sure. she been havin’ a lot of stomach problems, uh . .” he quickly clears his throat as if to cover up his pain. you weakly smile, rubbing his arm. 
“hey, no need to explain. i’m prayin’ she’ll be okay. it’s nice to see you, um . . eren and i were just celebrating our anniversary. would you like to join us for dessert?” you gesture towards the kitchen where a decadent chocolate on chocolate cake sits on the counter. 
eren watched pastor kain’s expression closely, gauging his reaction to the invitation. when he hesitated, eren couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation. 
“sure, why not?" pastor kain replied gruffly, his gaze lingering on the cake before meeting eren’s eyes. "but just a slice, i shouldn't impose."
eren bit back a retort, choosing instead to lead the way to the kitchen. he motions for the two of you to take a seat at the dining table while he cuts a generous portion for each of you. it's silent until he comes back.
“here you go, sir,” eren says, handing him a plate with a warm smile. 
“ ‘preciate you.” 
eren nods formally, leaning against the counter, observing the interaction between you and your father with a mix of curiosity and caution. 
“how’ve you been? i know last time i saw you, you were attending therapy. is that going well?” you ask. 
“it’s been . . difficult," pastor kain admitted, his voice cracking slightly as he set his fork down. he rubbed the back of his neck, a sign of discomfort or perhaps guilt. "losing your mother was a blow, and then dealing with your decision to . . leave home. .” 
he trailed off, gaze drifting to you before returning to meet eren’s eyes. there was a depth of sorrow in his eyes that he hadn't seen before, and for a moment, eren almost felt sorry for the man. the topic of your mother is still hard for you, eren coming over to sit beside you to entwine his fingers with yours to give you comfort. 
“i miss her every day," pastor kain continued, his voice barely above a whisper. your heart aches to hear your father's admission, and you reach out instinctively to lay a comforting hand on his. despite your differences, you know the pain of losing your mother is something you share deeply.
"i miss her too, daddy," you say softly, voice thick with emotion. "every single day. but, she would want us all to be happy, and live life to the fullest. she told me so after . . everything.” 
the thought of the altercation makes you all shift uncomfortably, hating that night. “we both care about you very much. i know things haven't always been easy between us, but . . i hope we can find a way to mend those bridges."
“that’s another thing i’ve been discussing with my therapist,” he sighs. “we talk about that night often, and somehow it still stirs something . . awful in me. though time has passed, i still don't approve of you disappearing with this man while giving me the short end of the stick with only minimal check-ins."
that makes eren flinch, feeling a sting of defensiveness rise within him. clenching his jaw, he stares intently at your father. just waiting for him to really try it. at this point in time, he gave no fucks about respect. eren knows you can stand up for yourself, but he won’t hesitate to set him straight. 
"leaving wasn't easy for me, you know that, as i’ve said before. i loved mom so much, and i didn't want to abandon you. but i also needed to follow my heart and build a life with someone who accepts me for who i am. you’re still upset about us eloping, alright. but that doesn't mean our love is any less real. i mean, of all days, you really chose to do this today?” 
“i’m not saying your love isn’t real,” pastor kain said, his tone softening slightly as he realized he was already upsetting you. it’s something he’s trying to work on. he sighed heavily, running a hand through his gray hair. “i just miss my little girl. the one who used to sit on my lap during sermons, who helped me prepare for sunday mornings. you grew up too fast, baby girl. left me behind. for this man i barely know.” 
your heart clenches at the raw emotion in your father's voice, and you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, getting irritated by your sensitivity. his words still sting, a painful reminder of the distance that has grown between you over the years. eren doesn’t appreciate the way he’s making you feel, easily getting triggered. 
“forgive me for intruding, but i don’t appreciate the disrespect you have towards me or my wife.” eren budges in, his intervention catching you off guard. you face him with wide eyes, silently urging him to tread carefully. while you appreciate his protectiveness, you don't want him to further alienate your father.
"it’s okay, eren," you murmur, placing a calming hand on his chest. he looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“no, it’s not okay, ꒰♡꒱,” eren stops you. “i've grown tired of being disrespected 'n judged based on your father's misconceptions of me. you don’t know me because you haven’t tried to get to.” 
a challenge simmers in the dark depths of his eyes as he stares at your father.  “if you truly care about your daughter's happiness, then you should be supporting her choices, not tryin’ to tear them down with your outdated beliefs.”
“with all do respect, eren, she’s still my daughter.”
“actually, no,” eren jumps back in, his jaw clenching, a hint of steel underlying his words. “this is my wife, and this is our house. if you choose not to respect it then you can kindly see yourself outta that door. i don’t understand your mindset when it comes to knockin’ down your daughter's happiness, nor do i understand holdin’ me accountable for shit i did as a stupid kid.”
“that doesn't change the fact that you stole my daughter from me and married her outside of her faith. it goes against everything I've taught her. and you aren't even a christian, it’s not according to god’s plan."
“where is this even coming from?” you scrunch up your face in disgust, eyes piercing at him. “why are you still being like this after all these years?” 
“i’m not tryin’ to cause an argument. i talked to god and realized i should come forward with issues that are bothering me, and find solace. and that’s what i’m doin’.” 
“by still hurting me?” 
“i’ll say it again,” eren cuts back in. “she’s my wife. put aside your religious beliefs and respect that as a man,” eren scoffs. “we may not have married under oath, but it happened. so deal with it.” 
“i would respect you a lot more if you gave my daughter the proper marriage with her family. especially after her mother died. maybe i’d forgive all your other sins. this goes against her family’s unity,” pastor kain snarls. 
“dad, enough,” your eyes squeeze tight. he’s ruining your day. “this is getting out of hand now. .” 
eren pinches the bridge of his nose, ready to swing at this point. "pastor kain, i understand that my past mistakes have given you a reason to doubt me. but i'm not that same reckless kid anymore, clearly. i've worked hard to build this home for us ‘n keep it. everything i’ve done from the moment i met her to now, has been for her. so here’s what’s gon’ happen. you either start respecting your daughter’s choices and accepting me as part of this family, or you can kindly remove yourself from her life. because i won’t tolerate disrespect towards her, especially not in my home.”
as eren speaks, you instinctively reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, feeling the warmth and solidity of his touch. pastor kain’s expression remains stoic, but you sense a crack in the armor of his rigid beliefs. perhaps, just perhaps, eren’s sincerity and your own steadfastness are beginning to chip away at the walls of resistance. 
“and if you can’t accept me, then maybe it’s time for you to reexamine your own faith and values. because the way you’re treating your daughter, i wouldn’t say it’s christian of you at all. so i implore you, for her sake, let go of your preconceived notions.” 
the air goes quiet for a while, eren staring at your father blankly while you gather your thoughts and caress his hand. it doesn’t take long for your father to push back his chair, the wood slightly scraping the floor as he rises up. 
“i apologize, to both of you. truly,” he swallows, bowing his head. “i’ve made plenty of mistakes i’m not proud of. the biggest one running my daughter away from home. i am trying to do better, i am. my old habits seep out unexpectedly. i think deep down my blessings were always with you two, i just have selfish tendencies. i am deeply sorry, eren.” 
eren isn’t sure if this is a facade, or if the man is being genuine. his lips are pressed into a straight line, nodding once but having no more words. he’d accept it, but the matter of if he was willing to change and show proof remained. 
“right,” he smiles weakly. “and i'm sorry to you, ꒰♡꒱. i’ve never meant to hurt you, granted i have many times. i will continue to repent for my sins. and i hope one day you can forgive me. i will let you two enjoy the rest of your day, i'm sorry to intrude.” 
pastor kain gives one more smile to you both before turning his back away and heading towards the front door. you’re frozen in your spot, your heart telling you to bring him back because it wasn’t safe. 
“we can’t let him go,” you turn to eren, anxiousness written all over your face. “eren, it’s really dangerous out there. what if something happens to him?” 
eren sighs, leaning in to kiss your forehead before standing to follow behind him. his hand is on the nozzle of the door before eren’s speaking up, clearing his throat to rid the still pent up animosity. 
“you can stay the night. i won’t let you travel in that storm.” 
pastor kain breathed in. “no, no. it’s completely fine. i’ve already overstayed my wel—”
“i insist,” eren finalizes, blinking slowly. “꒰♡꒱ will lose her shit if you drivin’ in that. you know she’s terrified of storms.” 
a few minutes pass and your father sits on the living room couch with eren making conversation, surprisingly. you can tell your father is trying to get to know him, and being respectful. you zone out for the most part, this day feeling long and getting to you. you decide to fix him a plate of leftover food you had and making everyone hot chocolate to ease the stress. it’s getting extremely late now, almost near midnight and your father grows tired. 
“we can take the sofa. you head upstairs and get comfortable,” you smile at your father, eren glaring down at you as you hook your arm with his.
eren’s jaw tightens slightly at the suggestion, but he quickly masks his irritation with a polite smile. he knows it's the right thing to offer your father the bed, despite his own desires to share a more intimate space with you. the house was built specifically for both of your comfortability since the two of you had long decided kids weren’t for you, being satisfied without. 
"that’s very kind of you, darlin’," eren says, his voice smooth and measured. “i think your father will appreciate that, huh?” 
“mhm hmm,” you nod sheepishly. “there are clean towels and washcloths in the closet by the bathroom. we’ll be down here if you need anything.” 
“think i’ll manage, baby girl. thank you.” 
your father gives you a sweet hug and a delicate forehead kiss before smiling at eren and giving him a handshake. “thank you.” 
“no problem.” 
eren sighs deeply once he’s fully upstairs, grumbling, ‘gotta take a piss’ before he’s heading to the second bathroom around the hall. you gather extra blankets from the coat closet, cutting off the lights while snuggling into the pillow soft couch watching adult cartoons. it’s been a hell of a day, and you wanted nothing more than to ignore the horrible weather outside and sleep next to your man. the white noise of the staticky television nearly has you drifting off to sleep, that is until thirty minutes later you’re woken up by eren sliding next to you.  
as the two of you settle in for the night, eren pulls you close on the cloud white couch, his strong arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, he whispers softly into your ear, “you alright, sweetheart?” 
you can smell the body wash on his skin, his hair pulled back into a bun as he kisses your cheek and hums, bear hugging you. sighing deeply, you nuzzle your face into his neck, trying to block out the raging rain outside that’s stressing you out on top of current events. “i’m okay. today was really a lot. i’m sorry about that.” 
eren furrows his brows. “now you know you shouldn’t be apologizing for him. he can’t control himself, n’ that’s not your priority. i meant what i said by protecting you from any n’ everybody that brings you negativity. i’m not with that. he needs to respect you, especially in this house.” 
“as well as you,” you bat your lashes up at him, rubbing his chin. “i hate that he talked to you like that. after all this time, i thought he’d change. i knew deep down he still felt some way since he never brings you up when i visit. doesn’t ask me about us . . nothing. i guess it’s a start that he apologized? and made conversation? but to come here saying you w’na check on me, then proceed to disrespect us?” 
eren sighs. “unfortunately, you can’t ever fully change a person. i’ll take the apology, but it’s g’na take a lot more than that for me to even consider him a father in law.” 
you stare longingly at his face. “i am grateful that you stood your ground and protected us. that’s very attractive.” 
eren grins. “you’re my wife, ꒰♡꒱. forever. ima always make sure you come first.” 
graciously, you smile, leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “thank you, baby. truly. you’ve been the most beautiful, kindest, loving person in my life. i love that you protect me, take care of me, provide and support me. i love you dearly.” 
“of course, baby. i love you too,” he replies, smudging his nose against yours. “my sweetheart. you mean everything to me. you saved me.” 
“stop,” you frown. “you’re gonna make me cry. yuck.” 
eren nudges his knuckles against your chin with a click of his tongue. “cut that. you’re a strong girl.” 
you hum, turning your head to look outside the window that faces the garden out back, the rain pouring heavier; clouds completely gray in the midnight. it was terrifying, especially hearing the wind beat against the shutters. you squeeze eren closer to you, your nerves getting to you more, goosebumps on your arms. 
“what a helluva anniversary, huh?” eren speaks to distract you, leveling his face over yours to block your view of the outside. you smile at him, knowing he was aware of your fear. 
you tsk, rolling your eyes. “man, from this scary ass weather, to my father’s bullshit . . i’m over it.” 
“hm, over it? already?”
you pucker your lips questionably. “yeah?” 
“it’s not over,” his voice barely becomes a whisper as he leans into you more, lips pressing against yours deeply. 
“eren, i really want to, but we can’t. my dad's upstairs,” you giggle, pushing your face away only for him to grab you and pull you closer to his chest, throwing your left leg over his waist. 
“i don’t care. fuck me.” 
you gasp with a laugh, eyes bulging when you feel his dick hard and heavy on your thigh. “mister yeager, are you naked?” 
“had no choice. my drawls upstairs and i ain’t puttin’ the dirty ones back on.” 
“only ‘cause you wanna touch my coochie,” you laugh, gasping when his fingers begin tugging at your shorts, ass almost slipping out while the rest of his fingers delicately brush along your clothed clit. “w-wait. what if he hears. that’s g’na be so embarrassing.” 
“ain’t he a heavy sleeper?” 
“well, yeah, but—”
“guess you’ll have to train yourself to keep quiet,” he smooches your cheek, smacking your ass hard to tease you, and you lose immediately, moaning loud. he chuckles, your thighs parting to welcome him, mouth agape from the warmth his palms bring, igniting your skin. the blood rushes through you as heat encases your face the instant his hand wraps around your throat, bringing your face closer. 
"didn’t get to finish touchin’ you earlier,” eren breathes heavily, his nose pressing against your neck as his lips glide to your collarbone. “it pissed me off."
“m-me too,” you whine when his thick tongue aggressively licks at your collarbone, a kiss following suit and continuing all over your neck.
"your pussy felt so good on my fingers," eren's hands massage over your thighs, purposely avoiding where you need him most. fingers swallowing the thickness of your thighs and the plush of your ass, smacking to get another reaction out of you. 
"you're teasing," you whimper, rolling your head back while your eyes scroll. “fuck, you know how wet that makes me”. 
" ‘fuckin ‘course i do,” his breath hitches again, moving his face to the other side of your neck, your hand gripping his bicep while grinding your hips to inch closer to his fingers. he tastes your skin again, and it’s lewd, and loud. knowing how sensitive you were there, any intimate sound setting you off.
"stop. teasing." 
eren’s pulling the blankets back, dragging you to stand up and firmly pressing your backside to his chest, just like the position he had you in earlier. staring down at you, he admires the deep red of the set you wore for him. it complements your brown skin perfectly, drawing attention to the fullness of your breasts and the swell of your hips. your thick, curly hair tumbling down your back in soft waves, framing your heart-shaped face and accentuating your plump, inviting lips. he pulls the bloomers completely off, your painted toes stepping out of them, twitching from any touch he gives you. 
“you’re so perfect,” eren whispers, guiding your head back to lie on his chest so you can look up at him, his mouth enclosing around yours to kiss you upside down. his chin holding you still. “you turn me on so bad.”
you bite your lip, looking up at him with hooded eyes as he holds you in place, a strong arm wrapped around you to keep you pinned to his firm chest. the heat of his skin seeps into yours, igniting a fresh spark of desire within you. you can feel his dick pressed against your lower back, evidence of how much he wants you. you shift slightly, grinding yourself subtly back in a silent invitation. your nipples harden under the sheer fabric of the bralette when his hand comes to play with them, straining towards his touch. you part your lips, letting him deepen the kiss as his tongue dances with yours. the taste of you mingles together, a heady aphrodisiac that makes you crave more. you moan softly into his mouth, surrendering yourself completely to the moment and to him.
turning slightly to the side, you detach your lips to spit into your hand, kissing him again as you stroke his dick beside your thigh, his hands embedded into your hips. his dark brows knit, your hand twisting to his liking as he holds your entire face with both hands, groaning low while brushing his lips amongst your own. his teeth go to pull down the strap of your top, latching his mouth onto the skin of your soft tits, jaw widening to suck on the flesh with tenacity.
"can't get over how good this looks on you," eren hums, keeping the other strap on your shoulder for appearance. he spanks your ass again, and you stand up straighter, turning to face him.
“you really like it?” you ask shyly.
his gaze roams over your body with undisguised hunger. “baby, i fuckin’ love it."
it makes your face hotter, slowly twisting in your spot to try to keep your composure. you hated when you felt intimidated by him as if he was some sort of stranger. 
“don’t get shy on me now,” he noticed instantly, cupping your chin before kissing you. “show me that bad girl i know.” 
a coy smile twitches at your lips, eren urging you to hurry with a hand smoothing onto the top of your head as you lower to your knees. he grips your hair dominantly, forcing you to keep your eyes on his. the sight is undeniably godly. he looks almost worn out, shoulders hunched under the weight of a long day's labor, and the marital instinct inside of you wants to make him feel better. his dark hair is mussed, easily falling from the hair tie wrapped in the follicles. there's a rugged attractiveness to his features; the strong jawline, the piercing gaze, the hint of stubble along his chin, the desire in his eyes. scattered across eren’s right arm and neck is a plethora of dark ink, artistically gothic, straight out of a fantasy novel. none of his tattoos had deep meanings. he liked what he wanted and that was all, using his skin strictly as an artist’s canvas. the only one that meant a lot to him was your name tatted across his wrist. 
"tell me to open my mouth." 
eren grunts, your sudden lead stirring something within his abdomen. usually, he’s the one telling you what to do. "open your mouth. now." 
your lips part, obeying without hesitation. "stick your fingers in." 
eren lays two fingers on your soft tongue, slowly stroking until he’s reaching the back of your throat to build up more saliva. you moan in approval, eyes watering but still maintaining eye contact. eren’s brows are knitted, dick hanging from the weight of it. he’s bending forward, spitting on your tongue and prepping your mouth, groaning gravely. you pull your mouth back from his fingers, salvia dripping down your chin. 
“you always do that,” he chuckles, the roughness of it making you squeeze your thighs. 
“ ‘cause you’re nasty,” you smirk, rolling your eyes. eren playfully does the same. “take my head and put my mouth where you want it." 
“fuck, you’re so good at that,” eren comments, gripping your chin to give you a chaste kiss. “talkin’ so pretty.” 
he keeps a firm hold on your scalp, curls tangled within his rough hands as he steadily guides you toward his dick, eyeing you darkly, back slightly bent so he can catch the view of your nose touching his stomach. you make sure to keep your eyes attached to his, dying to watch him submerge into ecstasy. he enjoys the control he has over you. you gag around him, and when he whimpers from the sensation, you can't help but grind in your position, the neediness itching at you. trailing your dominant hand between your thighs, you use two of your fingers to spread your lower lips apart to collect your juices before sinking them into your soaked opening. 
"oh my god," he notices instantly, choking on a moan as your nails dug into his thigh, moaning around him. he's breathing heavily, your teary eyes the trigger. pressure builds inside him now. he evokes a low growl, and his pace picks up even more, and so do your fingers. shifting your hips quicker. “i’m so proud of you, mama. you doin’ me so fuckin’ good right now.” 
eren loses himself in the raw act of claiming your mouth, each brutal thrust forces a corresponding squelch from your stuffed lips, saliva and precum mingling in a lewd display of submission. you continue sucking, your moans vibrating around his shaft as you fuck yourself open for him, juices flowing freely down your thighs. eren's thrusts become more urgent, his grasp on your hair tightening.
“fuck, baby gimme your throat," he whispers, his hips driving forward aggressively. “take it real deep.” 
with a deep thrust, eren hits the back of your throat and holds it there, the pressure building at the base of his dick. your eyes water, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hold your breath, never breaking eye contact, silently urging him on. your eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the sheer size of eren's dick fucking your throat. you gag as he fucks your face steadily with his head tossed back, and through it all, you find yourself getting wetter at the depravity of it all. eren's neediness is arousing, his hips rocking into your mouth with so much lust. you can feel his balls slapping against your chin with each thrust, the sound echoing obscenely in the almost quiet room. the tv luckily drowned out most sounds. suddenly, eren's entire dick pulses and throbs within your throat, hot jets of cum erupting directly onto your tongue. you swallow, like he likes, gulping down every drop as he rides out his orgasm, finally stilling to catch his breath.
“fuck,” he wheezed, hips jerking as he carefully pulls his toned hips back to let you breathe, dick twitching and jumping, still hard and needing more. groaning when you kiss the tip and after, his happy trail. “that felt too good, sweetheart. c’mere.” 
eren’s gaze locks onto your face, drinking in the sight of your gratified expression as he picks you up, sitting you on the couch as he lowers his head between your thighs. your knees are hiked up to your chest, your thumb hanging on the corner of your mouth as you stare down at him in bliss. his brain rewires every time he sees her; puffy, warm, and soaking just for him. the anklet you have shimmers as you chew at your thumb and gyrate your hips, waiting for him to touch you with a pleading whine. 
he slides two fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping pussy, pumping them carefully as he lowers his face to suckle your clit into his mouth. your quiet moans and cries spur him on, your hand going atop his head to guide him as he eats you out. your hips buck against his face, your body trembling beneath him, back arched and toes curled as he devours you. he's relentless, tongue flattening across your clit as he moves his head to apply pressure, lips kissing and swallowing your clit while his fingers twist and fuck into you. you're panting now, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer while your face screws up in pleasure, hating that you couldn’t scream the way you wanted. 
"mmm, look at that pussy, baby. look,” eren’s grabbing the back of your neck to connect your forehead with his, forcing your gaze to look at the way his fingers move inside of you, soft tummy molding. “fuckk, she’s so sweet. clenching too tight. give her t’me. make it easy.” 
sobbing, you nod your head against his, covering your mouth to muffle your moans as tears well. he curls his fingers just right, hitting that elusive spot far inside that makes your toes curl. grunting, he lowers his face back, burying it into your cunt feeling the scruff of his facial hair creating delicious friction against your sensitive skin. he’s opening and encasing his lips around your clit in iterations, sucking and licking hard, spanking your outer thigh while slicking his face up and down, your wetness lewdly known. 
“ooo, f-fuckk, ba—by, agh!” the pressure builds, coiling tighter in your belly until you can't hold back anymore. you cry out, fisting at his hair and the fabric of the couch as you roll your hips harder on his mouth.
“you’re making such a mess, girl,” he talks against your pussy, swallowing down every drop you give him. spanking you repetitively, the act and vibration causing your thighs to clamp around his ears as your orgasm crashes over you. pleasure rippling through your body, your juices flooding eren's mouth as he laps at you greedily, prolonging your bliss.
the shivers come from every part of you, your legs, your arms, and the breath on your lips. wanting to cry from how good it felt along with the frustration of not being able to scream. eren comes up to kiss you, muttering ‘go ‘head’ to let you scream into his mouth, grunting and moaning altogether from the intensity. your legs unable to stop shaking. he’s giving you open mouth kisses, your sounds stirring something sinister within his dick as you suck on his tongue, tasting yourself and groping at his waist to bring him closer to you. 
“atta girl,” he pecks your lips one more time before pulling you to stand again. 
eren turns you around, bending you forward as your thighs press tight together, holding your body up by your forearms pulled back. your upper body hangs, tits threatening to spill from your bralette. eren’s hair is long in his face now, positioning his hips so his dick can slide easily into you without the extra support. a low groan rumbles in his throat when his wish is granted, and you take him full. a ring of white shadowing around his dick with your cream, breathlessly whispering ‘yeah, fuck’ under his breath. feeling his dick makes you whine, shifting your ass back, greedy for more. this feeling never gets old. 
“fuck, yes. squeeze me just like that,” he rasps, pulling nearly all the way out before snapping his hips forward. you gasp from his roughness, tilting your pelvis to take him fully. the tightness making eren blow a raspberry before throwing his head back. “goddamn, mama.” 
“p-please,” you beg, moving your ass back as much as you could, not having much power over strength at the moment. “need it, baby. fuck me.” 
there was no need for that since he already had the intention of fucking you numb. shifting hips waist, he's rolling into you with ease, your ass clapping back onto his abdomen as he lets out a disgruntled noise that's loud enough to wake the entire house. you squeak, his thrusts rough and steady, fucking you good while keeping you still. heaving, your body falls back into his weakly, having no control over how he wants to use you. thighs adding pressure onto your clit as you mindlessly bounce back on his dick that's splitting you open.
"b-baby. . . too loud," a small panic drawls out, leveling your head to avoid blood rushing to it. eren scoffs, slowing himself momentarily to bring his face by yours.
“i don’t give a fuck, this my house,” he rasps, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your jawline. “do you want me to make you cum or not?” 
he assumed you crying was the answer, responding with ‘mhm’ as a ‘that’s what i thought’.  his dick twitches inside of you, eren doing his best to keep his composure, but you make it nearly impossible. he's pistoning in and out, watching you coat his dick sweetly, voice laced with lust as you spasm around him and cum unexpectedly. he groans while listening to your cries that ripple brokenly, pounding depravedly as pleasure courses through both your veins.
“it feel good cummin’ on my dick?” 
“yess, ‘ren. c-can’t stop cummin’, baby.” 
“gimme some more.” 
you bite your lip hard to stifle the scream threatening to spill, fingers curling into fists as you fight to maintain restraint. sweat beads on your brow from the exertion of keeping yourself still and silent under his relentless onslaught. the coil of tension in your core winds tighter and tighter, orgasm just out of reach. just when you think you can't hold back any longer, eren shifts slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. now, the head of his dick is kissing that sweet spot within you with every mean, intended stroke. a strangled gasp escapes you unbidden as that warm feeling bursts once more, convulsing helplessly in his hold, muscles clenching wildly around his dick as you struggle to muffle your cries behind clenched teeth. your hand pushes at his waist as a signal for some form of relief, moving your body forward. 
“where you goin’,” eren’s yanking you back the moment you try to escape, locking your wrists in his one hand, the other gripping your waist to continue fucking you back onto him. 
“erenn,” your voice cracks, your vision blurring from the intensity. a hiccup falls, your head hanging low as he grounds his dick all up in you. you hear yourself squelch, his sharp hips interacting with the softness of your ass that recoils back. your hands struggle in his hold, crying at the deadlock. but it felt so, so damn good. “f-fuck you. oh my god, fuck you, baby.” 
eren tongues his inner cheek with a snarky chuckle. “that just makes me w’na fuck you harder.”  
the stamina he has gives you a headache sometimes, unknowing of when you end up flat on your stomach lying on the sectional part of the sofa. eren notches the head of his dick between your folds to gather more of your slick before sinking back in, sheathing himself entirely, balls flattening on the curve of your ass. the solid warmth of his body blanketing yours, wrapping his bicep around your neck while he grabs onto the armrest before you two, rolling his hips and dropping his dick into you. 
“no one’s ever g’na do the shit i do to you,” he sloppily french kisses behind your ear, voice growing weak, panting heavier.
“mhm mm,” you agree without words, breaking out to follow the rhythm of his hips.
“your so pretty. say it. tell me you're my pretty girl.” 
tears prick at the corners of your eyes, face flushed, and arousal coiling hot and heavy in your belly, responding greedily to his every action. 
"i’m your pretty girl,” you gasp weakly, voice barely audible. your nails dig into the cushion as you writhe helplessly, full with his heavy dick and held immobile by his superior strength. every ruthless drive of his hips forces the air from your lungs, making you feel floaty.
a choked sob escapes him as he sinks everything into you, your fingers clawing frantically at the upholstery. you try to bury your face in the cushions to muffle your noises as he splits you open, each powerful thrust getting a singular sound from you, but eren had other plans. his big hand covers your mouth, continuously french kissing your neck as he grunts by your ear and rambles the filthiest things. your body does what it’s trained to; react. you cry in his palm, pussy fluttering around him as you cum for what seems like the tenth time, squeezing his dick like a vise. trembling violently beneath him and it takes every ounce of self-control he possesses not to let loose the feral growl building in his throat, knowing it would alert your father of your illicit activities. instead, he grits his teeth and redoubles his efforts, fucking into you his hardest to pursue his own release.
“eren,” even in your lightheaded state you begin to worry. his skin clashing obscenely loud with yours makes it hard for you not to scream after every nasty pound. you can feel him in your stomach, eyes rolling back into your skull as your mouth drops open, gasping in fragments.
“shut that shit up, ꒰♡꒱.” 
whining pathetically, you let him use you as he pleases simply ‘cause there’s no room for bickering. all coherent thoughts flee, leaving only primal instinct and the desperate need for release. with a muffled grunt, he buries himself to the hilt and cums inside you, his grip on your hip tightening almost painfully as he thrusts out every hot drop, shuddering while grinding against your ass to prolong the sensations.
"holy fuck," his voice cracks, rumbling as he hits your ass again and again.
eren slumps heavily atop you, both of you panting and twitching in the aftermath. he rolls to the side, pulling you with him so you're draped across his chest rather than crushed beneath his weight. one large hand strokes lazily up and down your spine as the other tangles in your wild curls, holding you close as he tries to catch his breath.
"you did so well, love," he praises softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and rubbing on you soothingly.  "you're a good girl, i love you so much.”
his voice is warm and approving, filled with the kind of affection that makes your heart swell with happiness. in this moment, cocooned in his strong arms and basking in the afterglow, nothing else matters. this anniversary was just one of many. you were worn out, drifting off to sleep without responding, but he knew you felt the same. eren managed to clean you up in your sleep, dressing you with his hoodie again and snuggling under the warm blankets for the rest of the night.
the following morning, you awake to the smell of brewed coffee and pancakes. wiping your eyes and yawning as you make your way towards the brightly lit kitchen, needing to soak in the bath since you can barely walk. finding your father and eren cooking together while listening to the radio broadcasts. it was the most shocking sight seeing them bond. your father flipping buttery flapjacks and your husband fixing the garbage disposal since something got caught in it. your heart blossomed nonetheless, thinking that this is all you wanted all along. this was the best gift. 
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© 𝑠𝑡4𝑟𝑏𝑤𝑟𝑟𝑦 . all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life.♡
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just-aake · 2 months ago
Text
Flustered Crushes
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: The Black Widow does not get flustered. So why is it that Natasha can’t seem to stop embarrassing herself in front of you?
Warnings: fluff
Words: 2795
At the edge of the bustling hangar bay, Natasha leans against the cold, metallic wall, her arms folded tightly, a faint frown etched across her brow as her sharp gaze observes the scene unfolding before her. 
Near the base of the Quinjet’s ramp, you are engaged in animated conversation with Carol Danvers, who happened to arrive at the compound for a quick visit precisely when you returned from your mission.  
You've been with the Avengers for a few months now, a former SHIELD agent seamlessly adjusting to the team dynamics. 
Over time, you've connected with everyone—including her. 
So, Natasha’s made an extra effort to help you feel welcome. 
Clint often teases her about her behavior, insisting her attentiveness borders on something more personal, something like a…crush. 
Natasha dismisses his comments each time with a roll of her eyes. 
She’s just being nice. 
After all, it's only natural to want a solid, dependable relationship with a new teammate, especially someone she'll be working closely with.
That’s the only reason why she came to greet you when you return from your mission.
At least, that’s what she tells herself as she stands there, alone, on the sidelines…not with you. 
Natasha watches Carol say something that makes you laugh, causing her faint frown to deepen.
The flash of amusement in your eyes as Carol grins back makes Natasha roll her eyes and look away, unable to take the sight anymore as a pang of irritation tightens in her chest.
She tries to shake it off, but it doesn’t disappear.
After all, it’s not like she got here an hour before your scheduled return and waited to see you…just to end up watching as the blonde space beauty swoop in, effortlessly captivating your attention.
Deciding she’s had enough, Natasha pushes herself off the wall, preparing to leave.
However, her abrupt movement catches others around her off guard, and she ends up bumping into a passing cart loaded with tools and equipment. 
A clattering sound echoes across the hangar as wrenches and bolts spill onto the floor. 
Natasha curses softly under her breath, a mix of pain and embarrassment coloring her cheeks as she drops to gather the scattered items, apologizing hastily to the technician she collided with before quickly exiting the area.
In her haste, she doesn’t notice your gaze, the subtle smile tugging at your lips as you follow her with amused eyes, tracking her every flustered move across the hangar bay, even as she slips away without a backward glance.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“So, how’s it going with your crush?” Clint asks, a playful glint in his eyes as he watches Natasha.
Natasha shoots him a warning look that would strike fear into the most fearsome of villains.
Without a word, she grabs the coffee pot, filling his mug before pouring some for herself. She replaces the pot with a decisive click.
“There is no crush,” she states firmly, taking a sip as though punctuating her denial.
“Are you sure about that?” Clint asks skeptically before continuing, “Whenever Y/n’s around, it’s like you lose all of your charm and coolness.” 
Natasha gives him an unimpressed glare. 
“Really? Coolness? That’s the best you’ve got?”
Clint smirks, raising his mug in mock salute.
“Ask me again after I finish this coffee.”
She rolls her eyes, holding her mug close, feeling the warm comfort seep into her hands.
Just as she brings it to her lips, the doors swing open, and Tony strolls into the kitchen, spotting them with their drinks. 
“Oh, coffee! Pour me a cup, Romanoff.”
“Pour your own,” Natasha mutters, savoring her next sip. 
Tony feigns hurt, pressing a hand to his chest in mock shock. 
“FRIDAY, remind me, who owns this building?” 
“You do, sir,” the AI replies smoothly. 
Tony gestures upward triumphantly at her before pointing towards the kitchen. 
“So, technically, that machine is mine, the beans are mine, and...oh, right, that pot of coffee is also mine.” 
Natasha rolls her eyes but eventually reaches for the pot, lifting it begrudgingly.
Tony holds out his mug with a victorious grin. 
But just as she hovers the pot above his cup, she stops short.
“A ‘please’ once in a while wouldn’t hurt.”
Tony’s eyes widen, and he gasps in exaggerated disbelief as Natasha raises a brow in expectation.
Huffing, he mutters, “Can I have some coffee, please?”
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Natasha quips with a smirk, preparing to pour him his coffee.
At that moment, the elevator dings, and the doors slide open to reveal you, fresh from your morning workout, dressed in your training gear.
You walk by the kitchen, spotting the other Avengers gathered around. 
A delighted smile spreads across your face. 
“Ooh, coffee! Can I have some, too?” 
Natasha’s response is instant. 
“Sure, I’ll make you a new pot.” 
Her tone is warmer than usual, surprising even herself.
You beam at her, and Natasha feels herself pause, momentarily captivated by the sight. Distracted, she almost misses your following words. 
“Thanks, Natasha! Let me change, and I’ll be right back.”
You slip through the doors, leaving Natasha blinking, still trying to regain her composure. 
Tony watches with raised eyebrows. 
“Wait a second—she didn’t even say ‘please,’ and you’re making her a whole new pot?”
Natasha’s eyes narrow as she holds the pot just out of reach of Tony’s mug. 
“Do you want coffee or not?” 
Tony grumbles before muttering a grudging “Yes, please.” 
Satisfied, Natasha pours the coffee, keeping her focus steady. 
“Natasha?” your voice catches her off guard, and she glances up to see you poking your head back into the room. 
“Yes?” she replies a little too quickly, immediately focusing on you. 
Both Clint and Tony fall silent, watching the two of you with curious eyes. 
“Steve’s got a mission tomorrow,” you explain. “Would you mind if I train with you in the meantime?”
Natasha’s mind races for a moment before she steadies herself to answer.
“Uh—yeah, sure. Anytime you want.” 
“Great!” you say enthusiastically before glancing worriedly at the counter. “I think that’s enough coffee.” 
Natasha follows your gaze, eyes widening as she realizes Tony’s cup is overflowing, dark liquid pooling across the counter. She yanks the pot away with a muttered curse. 
“Oh sh—!”
Tony steps back just in time, glaring down at his soaked countertop.
“Really, Romanoff? This is a new suit!” 
Rolling her eyes, Natasha grabs paper towels, unruffled by his dramatics. 
“Calm down, it barely even touched you.”
You let out a small laugh. 
“I’ll be right back,” you say, shooting her a smile as you exit.
“Okay,” Natasha murmurs, her attention lingering on the door.
Clint chuckles as he takes another sip, eyeing her knowingly. 
“You’re right, Nat. It’s not a crush,” he says, leaning back with a smirk. “It’s way worse.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Natasha flashes one of her most charming smiles, leaning just slightly forward as the receptionist fumbles through her files, cheeks tinged with a rosy hue under Natasha’s intense gaze. 
“Here you go!” the receptionist says, her voice soft as she hands over a key card. “I’m sorry again for the mix-up.”
Natasha’s fingers rest lightly over the receptionist’s hand as she accepts the card, her eyes warm and a playful smile tugging at her lips. 
“No problem at all,” she replies, her tone smooth. “I don’t mind the delay with such lovely company.” 
The receptionist blushes deeply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and giving Natasha a flustered smile. 
Natasha’s confident smirk grows as she watches her charms take effect. 
Quick and efficient, she slips the USB drive from the computer, seamlessly hiding it under her palm as it rests over the key card. For a moment, she feels pleased with herself, effortlessly pulling off her usual charisma.
See, she thinks to herself, Clint has no idea what he’s talking about—she’s got plenty of charm.
“Nice job, Natasha,” your voice suddenly crackles in her earpiece, startling her. 
Her hand slips in surprise, almost knocking over the items on the counter. She turns it into a casual adjustment, but not before the receptionist gives her a curious look. 
Natasha quickly smiles, grabbing the key card and offering a polite nod before walking away toward a secluded corner of the lobby.
Pressing a finger to her comms, she mutters, “Y/n? Where’s Clint?” 
“He had to step out for a minute,” you answer. “He asked me to take over. Is that okay?” 
“No–I mean—yes, of course,” Natasha says, the words tumbling out a bit too quickly. 
She straightens, running a hand through her hair as she tries to regain her composure. It’s not like she hadn’t expected you to assist with missions, but the thought of you watching her…
She tamps down the sudden flutter in her chest and forces herself to stay focused.
“Your next target is on the same floor as the key card you just picked up,” you continue, your voice warm and steady in her ear. 
“Got it.” 
“I’ll explain what you’re looking for.”
Natasha nods and begins striding toward the elevators, hoping her sudden focus will drown out the distraction of your voice in her head. 
She tells herself it’s just a mission—professional, routine.
But now, with you guiding her through the next steps, each word falling from your lips makes it harder for her to maintain her usually calm, steady demeanor. 
Her heart beats a little faster, and her cheeks feel a bit warmer than they should. She brushes off the thoughts and keeps walking, determined to stay cool and collected.
“Um…Natasha?”
She stops mid-step. “Hmm?”
“You’re…going the wrong way.”
Natasha freezes, blinking in surprise. She glances around, realizing she’s heading in the opposite direction from the elevators.
A wave of embarrassment sweeps over her as she lets out a quiet curse under her breath.
“Right,” Natasha says, turning with as much dignity as she can muster, her face heating as she finally heads in the correct direction.
Oh, she thinks to herself, she’s definitely going to kill Clint.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Natasha steps out of her room, her leather jacket slung over one arm as she adjusts the zipper. 
Your voice calls her name from down the hall, catching her off guard and making her slam the door shut in a startled motion. She spins to face you, only to be tugged back by an unexpected resistance.
Natasha looks down with a sigh, spotting her jacket sleeve caught in the door. Tugging at it proves ineffective, as it stays firmly wedged in place.
Hearing your footsteps approaching, Natasha hastily shoves the jacket behind her back, trying to appear composed. She leans casually against the door, hoping the awkward moment has gone unnoticed.
“Hey,” you greet with a warm smile as you reach her.
“Hey, Y/n,” Natasha replies, attempting a relaxed tone.
You eye her with a hint of curiosity. “Are you…okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine!” Natasha says quickly, forcing a casual smile. “Just, um, examining the door. Thought it could use a closer look.”
Your brows raise in amused surprise at her peculiar explanation, but you let it go. 
“Well, once you’re done with that,” you say, playing along, “I made a reservation at that new place downtown. I was wondering if you’d like to join me?”
“Just the two of us?” The words slip out before Natasha can stop herself. 
A flicker of excitement and amusement crosses your face as you nod. 
“Yeah, just us,” you say softly.
Natasha’s heart gives a small flutter, but she maintains her composure. 
“I’d love to,” she says, a smile slipping through despite her best efforts to stay calm.
“Great, it’s a date,” you say, grinning. “I’ll meet you in the garage.” With a playful smirk, you add, “After you finish your ‘inspection,’ of course.”
As you walk toward the elevator, Natasha watches you with a lingering smile.
Once you’re out of sight, she finally frees her jacket and heads to the garage a few minutes later, finding you waiting by her motorcycle.
You hop on behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist in a snug embrace. 
The warmth of your presence makes her feel a fluttering sensation in her chest she can’t shake. Distracted, Natasha blindly reaches for her helmet and slips it on—only to be met with complete darkness.
With a soft sigh, Natasha’s head drops to her chest, realizing she put it on backward. 
The chuckle that escapes your lips behind her is quickly muffled as you clear your throat, your hands reaching to help her. 
You gently remove the helmet, your fingers brushing her cheek as you pull it off.
When Natasha glances back, she catches the playful look in your eyes as you bite back a grin.
Seeing this, Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh. 
“Can we just pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen and start over? I swear, this doesn’t usually happen to me.”
You laugh, unable to hold back anymore. 
“Oh, I know all about the smooth and charming Black Widow,” you say, your gaze warm and teasing. “But I think this side of you is pretty cute too.”
A faint blush spreads across her cheeks at your words, and Natasha takes the helmet, this time slipping it on correctly, with a soft smile she can’t quite hide anymore.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
It’s another one of Tony’s famous parties, where glittering lights reflect off polished floors and music pulses softly through the spacious hall. 
In the middle of the dance floor, beneath the warm glow, Natasha sways with you, her hands resting gently on your waist as you move together to the rhythm of the soft melody. 
You wrap your arms around her neck, leaning in and drawing her closer until your lips meet hers in a tender, lingering kiss. 
Natasha smiles softly against your lips, and as you pull back, she rests her forehead gently against yours, eyes half-closed in a moment of quiet contentment. 
Even as the music fades into the background, her hands remain firm on your waist, as if she has no intention of letting go.
“Why don’t we get something to drink?” you suggest, glancing over at the bar lined with sparkling glasses.
Natasha only pulls you closer, her fingers brushing lightly along the small of your back as she murmurs, “Or…we could stay right here and have another dance.” 
Her voice is a soft suggestion, and she leans in slightly, her green eyes filled with warmth and alluring charm.
You raise an eyebrow, a knowing smile spreading across your lips. 
“It’s cute how you’re trying to be smooth.”
Natasha’s expression shifts, feigning innocence. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says, though the faintest blush colors her cheeks.
With a playful glint in your eye, you tilt your head at her in challenge. 
“How long has your bracelet been stuck to my dress?” you ask, giving her a teasing look.
Natasha glances away, the blush deepening as she realizes she’s been caught. She’s spent the past few moments subtly trying to free her wrist from your dress, but to no avail.
“In my defense,” she murmurs, attempting to deflect, “you distracted me with how beautiful you look tonight.”
You chuckle softly at her excuse, reaching up to pull her even closer. With a playful grin, you press a gentle kiss to her lips before leaning in to whisper against her ear.
“Think of the bright side—if you can’t get it loose, I’m sure you could just rip this dress off me.”
Natasha’s breath catches, and for a split second, she’s utterly still, her mind stalling at the suggestion. 
You pull back just enough to watch her expression, and a delighted smile grows on your face as she stares at you, wide-eyed and flustered, clearly caught off guard.
It only takes her a moment to catch on, her eyes narrowing in realization as she shakes her head with a playful huff. 
“You’re trying to embarrass me on purpose,” she accuses, a hint of a smile breaking through.
Unashamed, you bite back a laugh and nod. 
“It’s nice to see the calm and collected Black Widow all flustered for once.”
Natasha’s lips curl into a smirk as she pulls you flush against her, her free hand sliding up your back, fingers grazing along your spine. She leans in, her lips just a breath away from yours, the warmth of her gaze intense.
“Only for you,” she murmurs, her voice a hushed promise before closing the distance, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that makes you forget the world around you, the room fading away as you melt into each other’s embrace.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
a/n: just a short fluff with a soft Natasha that I had finished some time ago. after everything that has happened yesterday and today, I wanted to give some kind of happier distraction, even if it may be only a temporary escape from everything. I’m still going between disbelief, sadness, and anger myself about the situation while also trying to be prepared to continue on. But hopefully, this was able to bring some of you some sort of break from everything else.
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gudfornuthin · 4 months ago
Text
All I’ve Ever Wanted
Season 4!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader
! Spoilers ahead !
Summary: six years of travelling to different timelines, and Five isn’t sure how much longer he can go on for. Until he stumbles upon a greenhouse, full of strawberries. And you.
Word count: 4212
A/N: so season 4 was a… thing that happened. This story is basically my own idea of how things should’ve gone in ep 5. Instead of the weird Lila/Five situation, it’s just Five, and his chance of living a normal life with someone new. Hope you all enjoy, and feedback is appreciated :)
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Number Five was never one to back down from a challenge. Having been through a series of different apocalyptic events, transporting to a timeline where he spent 40 years alone, and dealing with a misfit group consisting of his exhausting siblings, Five was up for anything. But the current situation he was dealing with? For the first time in his life, he was at breaking point.
After another wasted day spending hour after hour searching for any clues or information on how to get back to the correct timeline, Five returns to the subway, entering one of the compartments and slumping down in the first chair he sees. He rubs his eyes and lets out a visceral sigh, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. He reaches into his pockets, pulling out a small pack of dried fruits. He rips it open and devours every last piece. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He was becoming more desperate, rummaging through trash cans and foraging in bushes, hoping anything he picks isn’t poisonous.
The compartment jolts and begins to move, making its way to the next timeline. Five wipes his hands on his already dirty pants, standing up and walking slowly to the door. He wonders whether his apocalypse counterpart will be waiting for him this time.
After several minutes, and Five almost falling over from his lack of sleep, he finally arrives, the doors opening. He steps out, immediately making his way up the stairs. No time to waste. He cautiously pokes his head out, looking around for any signs of, well, himself. Before he can move out more, something wizzes past his head. A bullet. He ducks, as more shots are fired directly at him.
“Give me a fuckin’ break,” Five mumbles, as he finally takes notices of the other him in the distance.
He sticks up his middle finger, and no soon after closes his fists, blinking as quick as he possibly could.
The Five with a gun disappears along with the destroyed world around him. Five drops his arms to his sides, turning around and admiring the new environment. Luscious, greenery surrounds him, with an array of different flowers sprouting from the ground beneath him. A small pond with fish glimmers in the sunshine, lily pads floating on top. He continues turning, finding himself standing next to a tall greenhouse. The glass was slightly foggy, making it difficult to see what’s inside. Five leans in closer, squinting as if that would help. He can barely make out what appears to be pots of fruit and vegetables, some fully sprouted and others not yet ripe. His stomach rumbles, the feeling of hunger consuming him.
A rustle sounds from behind him. He turns quickly, coming face to face with a pair of shears. Five jumps back slightly. He then spots the person wielding said ‘weapon’. A young woman, probably early twenties, wearing a light yellow dress and a pair of brown sandals. Five can’t help but admire her beauty, if it wasn’t for the fact she had a face like fury and didn’t seem afraid of cutting him in half.
“Can I help you?” Her words are kind, but her harsh tone says otherwise.
Five can’t exactly tell this young woman the truth. Showing up randomly in her back yard, covered in grime, gawking at her crops through the window. He raises his hands up in the air, trying to convey that he meant no harm.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his throat sore having not spoken to anyone in quite some time. “I don’t really know how I got here.” That’s not exactly true. “I’ve been travelling for a few days now.” Try six years. “And I could really do with a hot shower and something to eat.”
The woman doesn’t say anything, just staring, with the shears still held out in front of her.
Five puts his arms down, shrugging in defeat. “I’ll just go. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He looks down. “Or step all over your rose garden.” He gingerly moves away from the destroyed flowers.
He turns and begins to walk away, hoping to find an exit as quick as possible. Blinking in front of this woman probably wouldn’t help his cause. A warm hand grabs hold of his wrist, forcing him to stop and look back. She has the shears loosely hanging by her side, as her eyes pierce into Five’s. She seems hesitant, words forming in her mind. At last, she speaks again.
“You’re telling the truth?”
Five nods incessantly, feeling like a child.
“And if I let you in and make you something to eat, you won’t try and kill me?”
Five holds back a laugh, knowing she’s being deadly serious. “I wouldn’t dare.”
The woman waits a beat, then huffs. “Come on, I was just about to start dinner.”
She moves past Five, walking into three greenhouse. He takes this as a sign to follow after her.
***
The young woman allows Five to use her shower, and he’s thankful for the change of clothes she provides for him too. The home is small and cosy, playing into the stereotypical cottage core of living. The lighting is soft, and the smell of pumpkin seems to waft through into every room. It’s calming, it’s peaceful, it’s something that makes Five feel on edge. He isn’t used to the domestic life, away from the terror and destruction, trying to save the world over and over. He knows he can’t stay here long, but he won’t miss the opportunity of a proper cooked meal.
After putting on the change of clothes, Five makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen, a small buffet waiting for him. He finds it hard not to drool, the potatoes and fresh pie, along with the fruit and vegetables he’d spotted earlier. It looks incredible. He takes a seat, as the woman places down a final plate of tomatoes, sitting down opposite Five.
They dish out the food, filling their plates as high as they can, especially Five. He tries not to look like a slob in front of the pretty girl, but finds it hard not to drop some things down his top. She doesn’t seem to notice, or pretends not to.
The woman takes a sip of her drink, clearing her throat. “So,” her soft voice makes Five look up from his plate. “Do you have a name or is that one of the many mysteries of the man shovelling food down his throat like he hasn’t eaten in several years?”
The woman isn’t afraid of being upfront. Five admires that. Although, it’s not surprising considering he’s a complete stranger she’s trusted in her home. He puts down his knife and fork, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“No, I have a name. It’s Fi-,” he catches himself, unsure if his ‘name’ would just create more confusion, and unwanted questions. “Jerome. Just, Jerome.”
The woman squints her eyes, but doesn’t push further, seeming to move past his stumble. “Okay. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Jerome.”
Five shrugs, not knowing what else to say.
“My names Y/N.”
Five nods. “Okay. We’re closer already.”
“Don’t push it,” Y/N says, a small smile gracing her face. Five can’t help but pull the same expression.
***
After a hearty dinner, and some obvious awkward silences, Five insists on helping Y/N do the washing up. The sun was beginning to set, and Five knows he’ll have to leave soon, but something stops him from doing so. He doesn’t want to admit it, but this was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time. The fear or worry of something bad happening wasn’t there, and as he stands close to the woman he had barely met 2 hours ago, he realises what he’d been missing in his 60 something years. A place to live, with a person who makes him feel safe.
“Jerome,” the voice breaks through his thoughts, as Five almost forgets the name he’d given to this woman. “I feel like we’ve skirted around the topic enough. Is there any reason you were in the state you were in, taking refuge behind my greenhouse?”
Five places down the plate he was cleaning, turning to face her fully. Her expression is calm, and her voice shows no sign of interrogation. It’s a first for Five, as he’s become accustomed to people prodding him for information only for their own benefit. No one’s ever shown true interest in him.
He shrugs. “It’s been a tough couple of years. More than that I guess.” Fives eyes glaze over. “I haven’t seen my family in a long time, and I don’t know if I ever will. And if I do, I’m terrified of the state that I’ll find them in.”
Y/N stops what she’s doing, also turning to look at Five, a look of worry taking over her face. He knows he’s said more than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. He’s not good at sharing his feelings, and when he does, he’s scared of what will happen once the flood gates are opened. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to close them.
“What d’you mean? Are they in some kind of trouble?” She asks, a slight shake in her voice. “Are you in trouble?”
Five shakes his head, not wanting to stress out this poor woman who’s been nothing but doting to him. “No! No, I just,” he sighs, knowing he’s really put his foot in it. “I just care about them, a lot. Too much. And I don’t even want to think about not seeing them again.”
A soft hand brushes against Five’s cheek, as he glances at Y/N wiping a tear away from his face. He didn’t even realise he’d started crying. He sniffles, moving away and rubbing at his eyes, fearing how red they may look. He sucks in a deep breath, calming his beating heart. Whether it’s from talking about his family, or the touch from the woman next to him, he isn’t sure. But he fears he’s overstayed his welcome.
Five moves away from the kitchen counter. “I guess I should probably go. Don’t wanna miss my train.” Although he knows they’ll always be one there waiting for him.
He heads for the door, remembering to go upstairs and collect his dirty clothes before he leaves. Footsteps are heard from behind him.
“Uh,” Five swivels back around, as Y/N hesitates over her words. “This may seem kinda forward, and a dangerous move on my part, but, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing you were out there in the middle of the night, traveling by yourself.”
Five holds his breath, not wanting to jump the gun, but already anticipating the next sentence out of her mouth.
“I have extra pillows, and blankets.” Y/N shrugs. “It’s not the most comfortable couch but I’d say it’s more comfortable than the chairs on the train.”
Neither of them speak for a while. Five ponders her offer over and over, wondering if this is something he wants to decline. He needs to get back to his family. He needs to get back to help them. But so far, every option has been a bust. He’s not sure how much longer he can go on for. It could be the apocalypse all over again. Stuck for 40 years, traveling none stop, unsure if he’ll ever see his loved ones again. Could a good nights sleep really be such a bad thing?
He thinks the risk is worth it. “As long as it’s not too much trouble for you.”
***
That one good nights sleep turned into three months, staying at Y/N’s home, crashing on her couch. It didn’t stop Five from going out, back to the subway, trying to find the possible solution to his six year problem. But the more time he spent with the woman, the less time he wanted to spend away from her. They grew closer, making meals together, gardening together, watching silly romcoms together. While Y/N taught Five how to bake, Five taught her how to fight. A young woman living by herself? It didn’t hurt knowing some basic defence skills.
Five didn’t want to admit it, but his family hadn’t crossed his mind as often as it usually did before he met Y/N. He’d become soft, wanting to be around her all the time, not wanting to visit the subway as often as he should be. He’s lucky enough to call her a friend. He hopes she calls him that too.
***
It’s late, and Y/N is sat on the couch, crocheting a few pairs of gloves and a long overdue jumper. People used to make fun of her for it, calling her an old lady, but she finds it soothing. And making your own clothes is a big bonus too. Five, or Jerome as she knew him, had been out most of the day. She never questioned what he was up to, only that he returned safe, ready for whatever she’d cooked up for him during the day. She wasn’t completely naive in thinking ‘Jerome’ has involved himself in shady business. But unless he plans on telling her, then she won’t bother pushing him on the matter.
A bang echos from the back of the house, specifically inside the geeenhouse. It makes Y/N jump up from her seated position, quickly rushing out to the source of the noise. It can only be one person, or that’s what she hopes. Either way, she grabs for her shears before entering the warm glass room.
“Jerome?” She whispers, watching her step, the only light in the room coming from the moon through the windows.
A muffled groaning reaches her ears, as Y/N blindly moves her hands over the walls, trying to find the light switch. She finally does, and flicks it on. A sharp gasp comes out of her mouth, as the brightness finally reveals her new friend curled in a ball on the floor, rolling in pain.
“Shit.”
She quickly makes her way over to him, delicately wrapping her arms around his waist and slowly helping him off the floor. He stumbles, knocking into a few pots, almost making them fall off the table.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, the word slurring under his breath.
“Don’t apologise,” she says, making sure he’s steady on his feet. “Let’s just get you inside and onto the couch.”
They make their way through into the living room, Five dropping haphazardly onto the soft cushions, while Y/N finally gets a proper look at him. His clothes are ripped, the once pristine suit (one she bought for him as a gift) now in tatters. His hair is sticking up in all different directions, and he’s clutching to his side like his life depends on it. She reaches for his arm, prying it away to reveal an array of bullet wounds, still bleeding.
“You should see the other guy,” Five jokes, tilting his head back and trying to forget about the burning pain running across his body. Funnily enough, if Y/N saw the other guy, he’d look exactly like him, considering this all happened due to an unfortunate run in with apocalypse Five.
Y/N stares at him with wide eyes. “Really? Look, I don’t bother asking where you go or what you’re up to when you leave this house, but I think now’s the time you tell me the truth.”
Five moves his head back down, looking her in the eyes. She’s terrified. And he hates that. He breathes in deep, taking her hand in his.
“If you can help me patch this shit up,” he briefly motions to his wounds, “then I’ll tell you who I really am.”
So that’s what they do. Y/N retrieves the first aid kit from her bathroom, while Five opens up about his life before he met her, and how he’s not from this timeline. He isn’t sure if she’s believing what he says, as she remains quiet the entire time, only occasionally looking up at him and quickly returning to removing the bullets lodged in his side. But she listens. And allows him to pour his heart out to her.
“The past six years were torture. Somehow worse than the forty I spent in the apocalypse.” Five turns his head and stares at the woman next to him, as she finishes up her work. “But these last few months with you. I could finally be normal. I could live a life most guys would kill to have. And I’m so sorry I lied to you this long.”
They fall into silence, the pair somehow closer together than they were a few minutes ago. Both emotionally, and physically. Y/N moves her hand and takes his, squeezing tightly. Five’s heartbeat picks up speed, only now noticing their close proximity.
“So your real name is ‘Five’?” He nods at her words. She nods back. “Hmm. It suits you a lot better than Jerome.”
They both laugh half heartedly, as they stare deeply into each other’s eyes. She moves her hand up to his hair, moving it out of his face, trying to calm it down slightly.
She carries on talking. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” Five rolls his eyes. She doesn’t even know the half of it. “But if I can be the person to keep you grounded, for however long you’re here for, then I’m happy to do just that.”
Five smiles, glancing quickly at her lips.
She does the same. “And I hope you’re here for a long time.”
They both lean in, softly pressing their lips against each other’s. Five cups her face, deepening the kiss as Y/N rests her arms atop his shoulders. They move in sync, careful not to cause any more damage to Five’s wounds, as she somehow moves closer, one of her legs wrapping itself around his waist.
They don’t stop, clothes discarded, bodies intertwined, as their growing tension is finally broken. Five isn’t sure if he’ll ever get back to his timeline, but for now, he’s happy to call this place home.
***
Another four months, and still no sign of a way back. Although, Five can’t deny he hasn’t been trying as hard as usual. The peace and tranquillity has consumed him whole, falling into a proper routine with the woman he…
Is it love? Could he truly fall for someone like this? Someone who isn’t involved in the shit show he’s grown accustomed to? Someone who wants that quiet life, watering flowers and baking pies, with him? Maybe it’s what he needs.
Five stands in the greenhouse, picking some fresh strawberries, and trying a few to see if they were ripe. He’s already found the perfect recipe to use them in. Something he knows she’ll love.
As if reading his thoughts, a pair of arms slip around his waist. Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder, peaking over to see the basket full of fresh fruit. She picks one up, moving away and popping it in her mouth. Five turns and looks at her, smiling wide.
“They taste perfect,” she says.
Five takes her wrists, pulling her towards him and kissing her lightly. “So do you.”
She laughs, holding him close and breathing him in. “The cheesy lines don’t work on me, bub.”
“I think they do.” He mumbles, bringing her in for another kiss, sliding his hands up and down her back.
They stay like this for a while, holding each other in the warm glass room. The sun starts to set, as Five looks out and realises what time it is.
“Damn.”
She looks at him, confusion on her face. “What’s up?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing, I just need to do a double check of the subway before dinner.”
Y/N tries not to show her anxiousness, but some of it seeps through. After Five explained to her what the subway is and why he goes there every day, she’s terrified at the thought of him leaving and never coming back. But she knows he wouldn’t do that to her. Not without saying goodbye.
She steps back. “Right. Promise you’ll be safe?”
He kisses her on the cheek. “I promise.”
***
Five spends some time looking around the platform in the subway, checking the lights, checking the maps, even poking his head into the tunnels to see if anything has changed. But nothing. It all remains the same. No sign of his past life waiting for him. Was that such a bad thing?
Holding a small flashlight, he shines it up and down, left and right, hoping his eyes will catch something new. A sudden pop from above startles him, the grip he had on the flashlight loosening. It falls and rolls onto the tracks. Five looks up, noticing one of the bulbs now flickering. He huffs, moving to the edge of the platform and jumping down. He retrieves the flashlight, hitting it a few times to try and get it to work again. It comes to life, flashing in front of him. That’s when he spots something.
“That’s new.”
Five walks over, grabbing the mystery object and holding it up. It’s a plain notepad. He flips it open, scanning over the messy handwriting inside. His messy handwriting. He can’t help but let out a tiny gasp, as he figures out what it all means.
“This is it.” Tears form in his eyes. “This is my way back home.”
He’s shocked. He’s elated. He’s emotionally drained. This is his chance to rejoin his timeline. To see his family after so long. To fix the mess they’ve created. But all he can think about in this moment is Y/N. How the hell is he supposed to break the news to her?
***
After another hour spent pondering this new found information, Five slowly makes his way back home. His home. Where the life he’d built was waiting for him.
He enters the house and walks into the kitchen, where Y/N stands by the stove, boiling something sweet and caramelly. Five just stares at her; humming a random tune, wiping her messy hands on the apron he bought for her when her old one accidentally caught fire. That was the most stress he’d felt since coming here. And if that was the only stress he had to deal with, he’d take it every single day.
She finally turns and spots him, smiling wide. “Oh hey! I was worried for a sec, you were taking longer than expected.”
She moves closer to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He holds her, not wanting to let go. Y/N can tell something isn’t right.
She leans back. “You okay?”
Five doesn’t reply, only holding the notepad out for her to take. She does so, flipping through the pages just like he did, her expression perplexed.
“I don’t understand-”
“It’s the way back to my timeline.”
She looks up at him, mouth slightly open, as her words fall short. Five can swear he hears her heartbeat speed up, as her breathing becomes erratic. Five isn’t sure what to do, waiting for an explosion of emotions to rain down on him. But nothing comes. Neither of them do or say anything.
Five chooses to break the silence. “I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t. I don’t think I could live the way I used to live. Not after living this life with you.”
Y/N bites her lip, suppressing a sob. “You have to go.”
Five furrows his brow, hoping he heard her wrong. He tilts her head up to stare into her eyes, seeing the tears forming.
“No,” he whispers. “You’ve become the most important thing in my life. The thought of never seeing you again, I can’t do that.”
A tear falls down her cheek, as Five reaches out to wipe it away.
“I’d love nothing more than to stay in this little bubble we’ve created,” she replies, finding it hard to keep her voice steady. “But your family, your timeline, all those people? They need you more than I do. And I know deep down, you can’t bear the thought of letting them die, knowing you could’ve helped.”
Five wants to ask her to come with him. Become apart of his family. He knows she’d get on with them all. And they’d all love her, possibly more than they love him. But he knows it’s cruel to ask her to leave her life behind. The house, the garden, the home that she’s worked so hard on. And the thought of throwing her into the thick of it all. Putting her at danger? No chance.
He pulls her into his embrace, kissing her hard. They hold each other tight, their lips bruising as neither of them can stop the tears from falling.
Y/N is the first to pull away. “If you ever get the chance to come back to this timeline, you know where to find me.”
Five smiles, not wanting to let her go. He kisses her once more. “In the greenhouse, tasting just as sweet as the strawberries.”
2K notes · View notes
sturnioz · 9 months ago
Text
‘THIS IS (NOT) EASY’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO
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pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, fluff, angst
word count. 13.7k
❝being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as i thought it would be...❞
content warnings. friends with benefits au, crack humour, explicit content, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, squirting, p in v, unprotected sex (creampies), big dick matt, doggy position, alcohol consumption and mentions of weed, flirty!chris,
—authors note. i've actually written this before but for a different person on another blog. so if you happen to stumble across that somehow and notice the similarities, its me lol. i just liked the plot so much and i wanted to use it for matt.
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“Wait, you what?!”
You gasp out loud, not caring about the loudness of your tone, voice piercing throughout the library alongside the squeaking legs of your chair across the wooden flooring as you abruptly straight up in your seat. 
Other students with their heads shoved in books and laptop screens peek over in curiosity while one irritated classmate leans over the table to shush you angrily, warning you about the volume of your voice but you pay them no mind, gaze fixed on Matt who sits across from you sheepishly.
Matthew Sturniolo—one of the heartthrobs on campus, the quiet and mysterious type that turns curious heads, and undoubtedly the kindest guy in class has been your best friend for the past few years. You met during a practice hockey game where fourteen-year-old Matt had tried to score a goal to impress his brothers and newfound friends, only for the hockey puck to come flying over the glass barrier, hurling straight towards your face and leaving you with a swollen eyeball and a busted up nose.
Matt was unbelievably apologetic, going to extreme lengths by buying candies and ripping up flowers from potted plants to give to you whenever you both crossed paths, begging for your forgiveness over and over again desperately until you socked him in the face, giving him a hefty nosebleed and a bruised cheek in return. 
A toothy grin spread across your cheeks and you finally had accepted the gifts out of his hands, a happy ‘now we’re even!’ leaving your lips as you had ripped open the candies, offering him a treat, offering him your friendship.
The two of you became inseparable and if someone saw one of you, they knew that the other would be trailing along behind them. You were two peas in a pod—the dynamic duo. You were so joined at the hip that when you both enrolled for college, you tried signing up for a dorm on campus, wanting and hoping to be roommates. 
It didn’t happen.
Matt ended up rooming with one of his friends, Tyler, while you got stuck with some girl you didn’t even know but had become acquainted with over a short period of time. 
Still, you and Matt never strayed far from each other even with your roommates in the picture. He sleeps over at your place every now and then, and vice versa. You’re certain that he’s even claimed a whole drawer in your dresser, filled with his spare shirts, sweatpants and underwear.
A lot of your mutual friends, including his brothers, found it suspicious how you two could be so close without anything going on between you both, complaining how the two of you can’t be just friends. It was partially the truth.
You are not just friends, you’re best friends.
“I’m just saying, that you’re complaining about not hooking up with someone for a few days while I haven’t slept with someone for, like, a month,” Matt repeats to you with flushed cheeks, adjusting the black cap on his head with one hand while the other skilfully twirls a pen around his fingers, “Times are hard, kid. I got assignments up to my ass—”
“There’s no way you haven’t hooked up with someone lately,” You hiss through gritted teeth, refusing to believe a word that comes out of his mouth when he’s talking about such nonsense. 
A nearby student from the table next to yours shifts around in their seat in annoyance to look at you, pressing their finger aggressively against their lips to tell you to quiet down and you scoff in response, throwing them the middle finger with your own irritancy and annoyance.
“Can you not?” Matt scolds as his hand firmly wraps around your own, squeezing in warning as he guides it back down to the table. He offers an apologetic smile to the student, and as always, it works like a charm as they shyly smile back and resume their work. Another scoff leaves your lips and Matt turns his attention back to you. “I’m telling you the truth, you know.”
“Bullshit,” You murmur, sending him a glare. “That girl from my study group was over at your dorm last weekend—I saw her Snapchat stories.”
“Dude, we’re both in the same study group. She came over for some of my notes and ended up staying longer because Tyler offered her an ounce of his ‘premium weed’,” Matt explains, adding a sarcastic emphasis around the word ‘premium weed’ which has you snorting, knowing that there was nothing premium about Tyler’s stash. “She eventually ended up staying over and hooking up with Chris anyways.”
Your face contorts into a look of confusion at that, “What? Chris? He isn’t even your roommate.”
“I know. Tyler’s sheets are still in the dryer,” Matt grimaces. “But Nick has had this ‘sex-free’ policy on his and Chris’ dorm ever since that guy screwed him over last weekend.” 
“Oh…” You pause, amused at Nick’s new policy, but then the realisation finally hits you. “So that’s why Tyler didn’t have any sheets on his bed when I came over on Monday.”
“Y—wait, you came over Monday?” Matt snaps his head towards you, eyes narrowing as he jabs his pen in your direction. “Did you fuck in my bed?!”
“No. Of course not,” You gasp, deeply offended by his accusation and Matt lets out a sigh of relief, relaxing his shoulders as he leans back into his chair. “We actually fucked on the couch—”
“Are you fucking kidding me—”
“That’s besides the point!” You cut him off before he can grill you, silencing him by raising your hand in front of his face when he tries to retaliate again. “The fact remains, Matt, is that you haven’t fucked anyone in a whole month. And that’s like… I don’t know, it’s like blasphemy!”
Matt deadpans, his expression devoid of amusement. “I’m pretty sure that’s not blasphemy.”
“Whatever. You know what I mean,” You dismiss, shoving your books and pens as far away from you as you possibly could, no longer interested in studying the endless amount of words on that page now that you’ve discovered your best friend hasn't hooked up with anyone in so long. You sit comfortably in your chair as you fully give him your attention, tucking your legs beneath you. “I can’t believe it…”
“You’re telling me,” Matt huffs, deciding to set aside his own studies too. He rubs his face in frustration, groaning beneath his palms. You console him with a frown, reaching out to rub his shoulder in sympathy. Matt’s hands drop to his lap, and he shoots you a glare, “I can’t believe you didn’t believe me. Why would I lie about something like that?!”
You’re quick to defend yourself, “You fuck more than I do. Of course I'm not gonna believe a word you say when you tell me something like that!” 
And it’s true, Matt does have a higher number of sexual encounters compared to you. His boyish charm and adorable face doesn’t hide the fact that his body count is probably in the twenties, and that his online bank statements are likely to reveal the frequent purchases of packs of condoms (and maybe a few Plan B pills for extra precaution). Matt has always been cautious and responsible, which doesn’t surprise you. He’s not one to take unnecessary risks or potentially impregnate someone, especially a stranger.
“You didn’t have to say it out loud like that…” Matt mutters under his breath, cheeks dusting a slight shade of pink as another student turns around in their seat to glare at the pair of you, but her eyes widen comically as she sees Matt. Shyly, she tucks her hair behind her ears with a kind smile that Matt reciprocates. You lean back in your seat with a roll of your eyes just as Matt brings his attention back to you, “Are we done with this conversation? I’d rather talk about something more interesting than my nonexistent sex life.”
“Fine,” You relent. “Are you going to Nate’s later?”
“No, kid’s got some important hockey meeting or something, so we’re hanging another time,” Matt sighs softly, removing his cap to run his fingers through his hair before readjusting it. “Would you be cool if I came over yours?”
“Sure,” You grin, already shoving your belongings into your bag, eager to leave the library as soon as possible. Matt’s lip curls up in amusement as he follows in suit, packing his own things into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. 
As you glance over, you notice the girl still staring at Matt and a mischievous smirk forms on your face as you slam your hand on the desk in front of her, capturing her attention.
You jab your thumb in Matt’s direction and you teasingly offer, “If you want his number. I can give it to you. He’s been stuck in a dry spell recently, so—”
Before you can finish your sentence, Matt’s fingers curl around your elbow, yanking you away from the bewildered girl with a huff, “Move.”
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“I’ve been thinking about something…” You break the comfortable silence between you both after a few hours of binge-watching a series and indulging in takeout, dropping your pizza crust into the cardboard box and pushing it aside. Matt sits beside you on the couch, his own pizza in hand, gaze fixed on the TV screen, listening to what the characters are saying.
Matt glances at you with a quick, pointed look as he chews, “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Wow. Funny.” You deadpan with a roll of your eyes and he chuckles under his breath, turning his attention back to the TV screen. “Anyway, and hear me out before you say some dumb shit. I’ve been thinking about something that relates to that little problem we both have, and I may have come up with a way to fix it.”
“Why are you still hung up on this?” Matt complains between mouthfuls. “I don’t want to be constantly reminded that I’m not having sex—”
You quickly raise your hand to hush him and he goes cross eyed to stare at your palm in confusion. “I said hear me out.”
“Fine.”
“Great!“ You exclaim with a grin, “Okay, so, you and I are the best of friends, right? We always help each other out and—”
“Where is this going?”
“Hear. Me. Out.” You warn once more, emphasising each word. Matt sighs, nodding his head for you to continue. “We always help each other out, correct? And there’s no awkwardness between us, which is what also makes us so close. Remember that time we had to make out in front of Jeremy so he would stop hitting on me? And that time I pretended to be your girlfriend so Gracie would get the hint that you didn’t want to sleep with her anymore?”
“Well, yeah, but that didn’t exactly work out because we ended up hooking up with them a few days after it happened—”
“That’s not the point,” You say as you frustratingly rub at your temples. “The point is that we always help each other, no matter what the situation is, because we’re best friends. So, as best friends, I think we should help each other out with our little situation.”
“And how can we help each other out?”
“By fucking each other.”
The second those words leave your mouth, Matt chokes on his food, banging his fist against his chest as he coughs, his eyes watering and face turning red. The sight of his reaction has you cackling, wishing you had your phone nearby to take a picture.
After a few moments, Matt manages to regain his breath, reaching down to grab his bottle of water from the side of the couch and gulping it down almost immediately.
You click your tongue against your teeth, a playful smirk on your face. “That was a little dramatic.”
“And you’re crazy,” Matt shoots back, water droplets trickling down his chin as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Do you realise what you just said?”
You nod your head, “Perfectly.”
“We are not fucking. It’ll be weird,” Matt says, you instantly find offence to that, your jaw dropping in disbelief. Matt rolls his eyes at your reaction. “We’re best friends. Best friends don’t do that type of shit—Stop looking at me like that!”
You huff, turning your head away from him childishly. “I’m just trying to help us out. I don’t think it’ll be weird… people have done weirder.”
“Are you aware of how many friendships have been ruined because they fucked?” Matt questions you and you take a moment to ponder, wincing as you can easily name a few from the top of your head. “Exactly. As much as I find you attractive, I’m not going to ruin our friendship. We’ve been best friends for too long.”
Your head slowly turns back to Matt, who’s already looking at you. A grin spreads across your face as you flirtatiously bat your eyelashes at him, “You think I’m attractive?”
“My god, you’ve un-fucking-believable, I swear…” Matt trails off, muttering under his breath as he rubs at his forehead in frustration. You beam at the thought of getting under his skin, but eventually you roll your eyes and reach over to press your foot into his side, playfully nudging him to bring his attention back to you. 
Matt looks over at you with a deadpan expression and you continue to grin at him, tilting your head to the side as you admire the view.
Truthfully, you’ve always found Matt attractive even if it was in a friendly way and you’d be lying if you said that hooking up with him has never crossed your mind, but that’s mainly because you’re nosy and want to see what all the fuss is about when you constantly hear the girls fawn about what he’s like in bed.
Some say he’s extremely giving, tending to their needs in all ways possible. Some also say he’s demanding and rough, one hand curled into their hair as he’s fucking them from behind, spitting out degrading words into their ears. But you’ve also heard that he sometimes comes across as needy and desperate, begging for his cock to be sucked and to be made a mess out of.
It piques your interest a lot… maybe it’s wrong of you to think that way about someone you know so well, but you’re human after all, sometimes you can’t help the way you think about certain people.
“Look,” You speak up first, letting out a sigh. “What I said was just a suggestion, okay? If you don’t want to do it, then that’s fine—”
“How do you know that it won’t ruin our friendship?” Matt cuts you off and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the question. “We’ve been best friends for, like, six years or something right? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to throw that all away because we messed up and decided to fuck each other just because we’re ‘sex deprived’.”
“We’re not going to get into anything super serious,” You reassure him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure, we’re probably going to end up in some type of friends with benefits situation, but we’re not going to include any of that official or exclusive title bullshit. We just hook up for a release when we can’t find it anywhere else, it’s as simple as that. No complications.”
“So…” Matt purses his lips in deep thought. “We can still fuck other people?”
You scoff, “Of course. You think I’d drop Tyler for you that easily?”
“Fuck you.”
Your lips curl into a smirk, “I’m hoping you would.”
Matt stares at you for a brief moment before chuckling, shaking his head as his tongue prods at his cheek. The little action spurs something within you but you remain seated, wanting Matt to be the one to make the first move if he was game in fucking you to help relieve the stress you’re both feeling… maybe Matt a little more considering that you fucked Tyler a few days prior, but you were desperate to be filled again. 
You watch Matt sit in silence for a moment, seemingly deep in his thoughts as his eyebrows knit together, thinking about the pros and cons. His hands come up to pull the cap off of his head completely, his hair messily falling in front of his eyes and your thighs press together as the thought of seeing it between your legs with your fingers threading through the locks. 
You internally laugh at how deluded you sound.
“What time does your roommate get back tonight?” Matt questions you, his low tone bringing you out of your own thoughts and your body buzzes with excitement, fumbling as you reach over to snag your phone off the coffee table to check the time, informing him that she won’t be home for another three hours. “Alright. Good to know.”
“So?” You press, dropping your phone back down as you look at him expectedly. “What’s it going to be?”
Matt takes a deep breath, “No titles.”
“None at all.”
“We can still fuck whoever we want.”
“Whoever, whenever.”
“And most importantly…” Matt pauses with a deep sigh, leaning over the couch closer to you and he holds up his hand, his pinkie outstretched. “We’re still best friends.”
“It’ll be like nothing ever changed.” You promise softly with a smile, curling your pinky finger around his own, squeezing it tightly to keep your promise.
It’s silent between you both for a while, and you can clearly see the cogs turning inside Matt’s head as he thinks about his next move, yet you’re the one that decides to take that initiative.
You rip your hand away from his to throw your arms around his shoulders, fingers buried into his locks as you drag him towards you to eagerly plant your lips on his. You’re surprised at how fast Matt responds to the kiss as his hands come up to cup your cheeks, tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, slipping his tongue into your mouth.
The plenty drunken kisses you’ve shared with Matt to help each other out of sticky situations is nothing like the kiss you’re experiencing right now, and it catches you extremely off guard. You were expecting him to allow you to take control of what was happening and lead him through it considering you were the one to bring it up, but with the way Matt’s pushing you backwards to lay you down on the couch and crawling between your open legs with his lips still attached to yours, you’re stumped. 
“Wait,” You stop him, pressing your palm against his chest to push him back and Matt moves away with raw, wet lips, his fingers hovering above the waistband of your shorts. “Why are we doing this on the couch? I have a bed we can use.”
Matt glares down at you, “That didn’t stop you and Tyler from fucking on my couch.”
“Actually, there were no sheets on Tyler’s bed, so—”
“Think of this as payback,” Matt smiles at you sweetly and you snarl, knocking your leg against his side with force and he laughs through clenched teeth, “Besides, you’ve probably fucked a lot of people on this couch… Do you really care?”
You blink up at him. “Are you implying that I’m a slut?”
Matt shrugs, “Maybe, yeah.”
“That’s so hot of you.”
Matt chuckles and leans down to reconnect your lips, fingers unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down your legs with your underwear, carelessly throwing them somewhere to the side and you hiss at the cold air that hits, yearning for warmth.
Matt’s lips trail down your throat and to the collar of your shirt, nipping and sucking at your skin, heading south to where your thighs shake in anticipation. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you watch him shuffling down to lay between your legs, hands pushing against your knees to spread you further apart, the coldness of his rings prickling at your skin.
Your own hand reaches down to thread your fingers through his hair, trying to tug him closer but he barely budges, gazing up at you with his brows knit together.
You whine, “Hurry.”
“Are you always this impatient?”
“Of course,” You look at him like he’s stupid. “We’re both doing this for a reason and it’s to cum, not to take our sweet little time and—Oh shit…”
“Fucking yapping. You talk too much.” Matt drags his tongue through your folds, the pink muscle swirling over your clit and your body jerks in shock at the sensation, a gasp fleeting past your lips as your grip on his hair tightens, feeling his tongue wiggle between your folds and licking upwards to flick over your clit before his fingers tease at your entrance.
Your body goes slack against the couch cushions, mouth stuck open as he eases two digits inside the warmth of your pussy, curling his fingers upwards as his lips wrap around your sensitive clit and you whine, tugging at his hair a little harder which causes him to groan, the vibrations causing goosebumps to shoot up your spine.
You’re in shock at how well Matt actually uses his tongue and fingers. Of course you’ve heard stories from your girl friends and even Matt himself, but you didn’t expect him to be this good and it completely catches you off track, unable to control the noises that rip from the back of your throat when he begins to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt while using his tongue to work wonders on your clit.
“Matt,” You whisper his name with a moan, thighs twitching and closing in around his head. You feel him smirk against your pussy and you squeeze your thighs in warning. “Stop it.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?” He asks, his tone a little condescending as he raises his head, mouth glistening with your arousal. His fingers continue hitting that spot that has your toes curling and back arching against the cushions. “You can cum, if you want.”
“You’re so fucking cocky,” You tut, fighting the urge to smile but you amusement ends up slipping away and is overcome b y pleasure as he pumps his fingers a few more times, the tightening band in your stomach snapping as you cum all over his fingers, gasping through high pitched whines and trying to control the convulsing movement of your body.
“That’s it,” Matt hums, pressing a quick kiss to your pussy. “Good job.”
You choke out your words, unable to come up with a full sentence as your hand falls limp onto his shoulder, fingers twitching over the material as you breathe heavily. “What the fuck was that?!”
“Me eating you out,” He answers matter-of-factly, a hint of smugness in his tone as he pops his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean. Your mouth drops in shock at the action and he meets your gaze, “You good?”
“Yeah… good.” You nod dumbly, completely astonished at how nonchalant Matt is acting as you watch him tug his sweatpants and boxers down his legs awkwardly when he sits up, eyes automatically zoning in on his cock that slaps against his stomach once freed from its confinements. 
Honestly, you have seen Matt naked. He’s comfortable with stripping in front of you and changing without any thought. But… you’ve never seen Matt hard, and the sight alone is enough to have your mouth watering.
Your best friend is huge.
“Okay,” Matt mumbles to himself, crawling forward and hooking his hands under the back of your knees to pull you closer to him, his thumbs caressing your skin. “Are you sure you’re ready? You know there’s no turning back from this, right?”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” You grin as you wiggle against him excitedly. “Give me what you got, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that.” Matt clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head as he slowly eases his cock into you. Slowly, your eyes start to widen at the stretch, the burn obvious in your core and thighs, and your hand flies down to his in hopes to slow down his movements despite him going as slow as he possibly can.
You try to breathe steadily through your nose, lips pressed together tightly as your wince at the uncomfortable ache that spreads, your pussy clamping down on him as if you were trying to prevent him from pushing any further.
“Ow.” You whisper, twisting your hips to try and get comfortable and relax but you wince at each movement you make, causing Matt to raise his gaze from where you’re connected to look into your eyes, his own pooling with concern.
“Are you okay?”
You hum with a curt nod of your head, “Nothing of that significant size has been up there before, you know? I’m just… feeling uncomfortable, that’s all.”
Matt’s lips curl into a grin, “You calling my dick big?”
You send him a hardened glare, “Not as big as your fucking head.”
Matt laughs loudly and he lays his hand flat across your lower stomach as he adjusts himself between your legs, head ducking down slightly to watch himself slowly push into you once more, but the second your legs tense up, he sighs apologetically and strokes your stomach, sliding his cock out of you and you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness, looking at him with a pout.
“Give me a second, okay?” Matt orders you, gently grabbing your waist to help turn you around on all fours. The brows pinch together at the new position, but your body seems to relax when you feel his hands slide around your back and press down tightly, arching it to hold you in place as you feel his cock at your entrance once more. “This should feel better. But tell me if it hurts? I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
“Just—” You grit your teeth together. “Just fuck me, Matt.”
“You got it.” Matt whispers as he pushes himself back into you again at a slower pace and you gasp, your fingers gripping the arm of the couch, head dropping low to rest on the cushions as you try to control your breathing. The new position was definitely better than the last, but you can still feel him stretch you out to fit you around his cock. “Is my dick really that big?”
“Are you asking because you’re concerned or because you want me to boost your ego?”
Matt smiles, “Maybe both.”
You don’t even get the chance to retaliate with your own snarky comment as Matt fills you up completely, hips pressing to your ass and cry out at how full you’re feeling, unable to think properly as he pulls back, leaving the tip nestled in your cunt before thrusting back in.
Matt curses loudly behind you, fingers digging into your ski as he rocks his hips into you, his thrusts sending your body jerking forwards. You squeeze around his cock and he grunts, changing his pace and you can’t help but fuck youtself back onto him, whining and panting at the pleasure that swirls in the pit of your tummy. 
The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin is enough to have your eyes rolling back in pleasure, driving you even closer to the edge along with his rapid thrusts and continuous cursing. You’re positive you can even hear him praise you a little bit, muttering about how tight your pussy is. 
You would’ve never guessed he was into such dirty talk. Matt continues to amaze you.
Your pussy clamps around his cock when you feel his hand sneak beneath your body to reach between your thighs, the pads of his fingers rubbing diligent circles on your clit and you mewl, your own hand coming down to latch around his wrist.
“Shit,” You slur your words, drool seeping past the corner of your lips. “So good—fuck, Matt, don’t stop—s’good.”
“You’re funny if you think I’m gonna stop.” Matt chuckles behind you and you can feel the tears build up in your waterline as Matt leans over your body, holding himself up with one hand on the arm of the couch, his other still rubbing circles on your clit. You gasp as how deep he’s nestled within you and it has you seeing stars, your toes curling and your body tensing up as his cock fucks into your cunt, repeatedly hitting that spot over and over before your second orgasm of the night hits you violently. 
Your screams are muffled by the cushions, walls pulsating around his cock as you cum, struggling to hold up your own weight as your body falls limp on the couch. Pleasure buzzes through your veins and it sends you mind whirling as Matt fucks you through it to reach his own high, moving his hand from your clit to rest on your lower back, arching your ass up to fuck you deeper.
“Where do you want me to cum?” He pants heavily, thumb stroking the bottom of your spine. “Fuck—tell me where I can cum.”
“Anywhere you want.” You slur your words, craning your head to the side to look at him, capturing how his eyes widen slightly.
“Anywhere?” Matt repeats as he slows down his movements and you nod your head, only to yelp in shock when he pulls out of you completely and flips your body around once more. You stare at him in surprise as he crawls up your body, resting a hand on your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. “Here?”
You don’t give him a verbal answer, instead you open wide, welcoming him and Matt grins, pushing the head of his cock into your mouth and sighing as your lips close around him, suckling on his tip as he cums in long spurts down your throat, brows knitting together in pleasure and moaning softly as your tongue presses against his slit, swallowing everything he gives you. 
There’s a comfortable silence as Matt removes himself from above you, choosing to drop down in the limited space between your body and the couch, running his fingers through his sweaty hair as he tries to catch his breath.
It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what had just happened, staring between Matt’s naked lower half and yours before you abruptly sit up, rolling onto your knees that pop as you stare down at him incredulously. 
“Matt!” You screech, punching his shoulder with such force that has him wincing. 
“Ow!” He hisses, rubbing the area. “Why—”
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were that good?” You immediately cut him off, not allowing him to finish as you shake your head quickly. “We should’ve done this ages ago!”
Matt rolls his eyes in annoyance despite the grin that spreads across his cheeks as he throws his arm over his face, “Shut up.”
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“Okay, so, let me get this straight,” Nick pauses to chew and swallow his sandwich, pointing between you and Matt on the opposite side of the table. “You two decided to hook up last night because neither of you have hooked up with anyone in a long time, and now you’ve made some sort of deal that when you can’t find release somewhere else, you’ll go to each other?”
“Yeah.”
“What the actual fuck?!” Nick exclaims, looking at you both as if you’ve grown an extra head before abruptly turning to Chris and Tyler who are sitting beside each other silently, watching everything unfold. “Why are you guys saying anything?!”
“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Chris shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly before he turns his attention to you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Although, I am kind of offended you didn’t ask me to fuck you.”
You grimace, “It makes me queasy thinking about where your dick has been, if I’m honest.”
“When was the last time you got tested?” Matt teases his younger triplet, a slight smirk curling at the ends of his lips as he leans back into his chair, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he manspreads. Chris rolls his eyes and retaliates by throwing him the middle finger.
“And you’re okay with this?” Nick questions Tyler who slowly nods his head as he rolls a blunt beneath the table, lips pursed in concentration. 
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tyler questions back, lifting his gaze to Nick and raising a brow before looking back down to his lap. “We just fuck, that’s it. And besides, sometimes I get so faded that I can’t even get my dick up. She needs good dick and I can’t give it to her when I’m that out of it.”
You gasp in awe, reaching across the table to grip his arm. “You are so thoughtful!”
“So I’m the only sane fucking person that thinks this is a stupid idea?” Nick shakes his head in disbelief, biting into his sandwich with a deep sigh. His eyes suddenly widen, a piece of lettuce hanging from his mouth as he erratically pats his pockets. “Where’s Nate? Somebody text Nate right now.”
“Please, you know damn well Nate isn’t going to give a shit,” Chris cackles with a grin, adjusting the beanie on his head. “Pretty sure he fucked his girl best friend last year.”
“Yeah? And where is she now?” Nick looks at all of you expectedly for an answer and you frown, sinking into your seat with your arms crossed over your chest. “Exactly.”
“Come on, kid, it’s not like that…” Matt tries to explain. “We talked about it. We’re not doing any of that exclusive or official title stuff. We’re not making it weird.”
“Meaning we can still hook up with whoever we want.” You add on, eyes flickering over to Tyler and you give him a pretty smile, only for him to look back at you with a smirk and give you a flirtatious wink.
“So, what I’m hearing is,” Chris pauses, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he bats his eyelashes at you. “There’s still a chance for me?”
Nick immediately plugs his ears as he repeatedly mumbles, “I don’t not want to hear this. Stop it immediately. I hate it.”
“Hate what?” Nate’s voice interrupts from behind and you whiz around in your seat, grinning widely as you see Nate approaching your table with his hockey jersey in one hand and his books in the other. 
He greets you all with a smile, placing his belongings down on the table before grabbing an empty chair from another, the metal legs scraping across the floor as he drags it to place beside Matt, slapping his hand down on Matt’s shoulder in greeting as he sits down. 
“What are you talking about anyway?”
“They hooked up,” Nick immediately jumps straight into it as he points at the two of you and you sigh, throwing your head back in frustration. Matt laughs beside you. “And they’re going to continue to hook up whenever they don’t have anyone else to go to, so—”
“Oh, nice man.”
Nick stares at Nate, “No. Not nice. Not nice at all,” Nick shakes his head. “You’re all helpless. Dumb and helpless, every single one of you.”
Nate pulls a face, “I mean, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be—”
“That’s what I said~” Chris sings.
“And besides, they’re grown adults. They can do whatever they want.” Nate’s words make your brows raise with little surprise, watching as he flips open his book and grabs the pen that rests behind his ear, biting the cap off with his teeth before looking at you. “I’m surprised it took you both this look to actually hook-up… I thought it would’ve happened months ago.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just means I thought you two would’ve fucked months ago.” Nate smiles and shrugs his shoulders innocently, blowing the cap out of his mouth and watching it with his hand before he begins to scribble on the pages. You roll your eyes, glancing over at Matt who shrugs his own shoulders, not fully understanding the meaning of Nate’s words but chooses not to dwell on it any longer as he reaches for his drink, sipping through the straw as he gives his attention to Chris who angles his phone in his direction to show him something you could barely see. 
Nick shakes his head, still in disbelief as he shoves the last remaining bite of his sandwich into his mouth before grabbing his book out of his backpack to take notes alongside Nate. He then comically raises his head up to point his pen at you and Matt.
“Also, just to let you know, I don’t want to hear any complaining from either of you when this whole situationship bullshit ends up going to literal shit,” Nick warns before he slowly turns to the pen to point to himself, “Because I will laugh in your face and simply say, ‘I told you so’.”
A scoff leaves your lips as Matt speaks, “Relax, kid. Everything is going to be fine. Plus, this whole thing could just be a one time thing… It might not even happen again,” Matt turns to look at you. “Right?”
A smile finds its way onto your face as you lean your elbows on the table, chin resting on the palm of your hand as you give him an affirmative nod. “Right.”
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“Fuck, Matt.” You moan out his name repeatedly, back arching off your bed, gripping the pillows resting behind your head with your mouth wide open. Matt’s fingers pump in and out of your pussy, squirting over his hand and splashing onto the bed sheets below you. 
He laughs as you shove your face into the crook of your arm, body trembling and breathing whines slipping past your lips from the overwhelming sensation of him fucking you with his fingers.
Your legs clamp shut around his hand but he’s already prying you back open with the other, holding them down to the bed as his fingers curl upwards, almost bringing you to tears at the pleasure in the pit of your tummy. 
“There we go…” Matt hums softly, milking you for every drop you can give. You quiver and gasp when Matt comes to a stop, the grin on his face evident as he pulls his fingers from your cunt and you whine, struggling to raise your foot and kick him in his side. He captures your ankle in his grasp, drawing circles with his fingertips. “You good?”
“You good?” You mock him, tone nasally. Your arms flop to your side as you take a deep breath, ignoring the way Matt’s laughing at you. “That was intense… I felt like I was going crazy.”
“Thank you,” Matt grins, eyes twinkling as he slips off your bed. “Your need to change your sheets though.”
“Wow. So gentlemanly of you to offer to help.” You mutter sarcastically under your breath, clicking your tongue against your teeth. You stand up from the bed and your knees buckle beneath you, causing you to panic and immediately reach out and grab onto a surface to steady yourself, throwing the middle finger up in Matt’s direction when he chuckles. 
He tells you to go shower while he takes care of the sheets and you immediately oblige, patting his arm in a quick thanks as you wobble out of your bedroom and into the bathroom, eager to clear yourself up after previous activities. 
You take longer than usual to shower, taking your time to scrub your body clean and even wash your hair, not even caring about what Matt could be doing inside your home as he waits for you, but you pause your routine when you actually begin to think about your relationship with Matt. 
It’s been almost three weeks since you started hooking up with Matt, showing up at each other's places whenever you’re in need of sex, getting it over and done with before hanging out properly, before even getting a bite to eat or binge watching a series. 
You still sleep with Tyler. You’ve even fucked Tyler and Matt on the same day. Matt doesn’t care, of course he doesn’t, and personally neither do you. But there have been a few moments where you start to recall the amount of times you had chosen Matt over Tyler… and it was a lot. 
You and Matt are supposed to fuck whenever you have no one else to go to. And yet, give the choice… you still chose Matt. 
A loud call of your name and a fist banging against the bathroom door startles you out of your thoughts, “I need to piss. Hurry up!”
“Just come in!” You yell back at him, frowning as you face the stream of water to let the soap run off your body as you mumble, “It’s not like you haven’t barged in before.”
You hear the door creak open behind the shower curtain and you poke your head around just in time for Matt to unzip his pants to relieve himself, his head tilting back with a sigh of relief. 
His eyes meet yours when he turns his head and his brows knit together, giving you an odd look. “What?”
“Can I ask you a question?” He blinks before giving you a quick nod. “Are you still fucking other people?”
“Yeah,” That answer relieves you a bit. “I was with Sadie last weekend.”
“I have another question.”
“Why are you—”
“I’m asking the questions,” You cut him off and Matt laughs, nodding for you to continue as he zips up his pants and washes his hands. “Has Sadie, or any other girl, been available on the same day that I’ve been available? Or asked you to come over?”
“Uh…” Matt ponders for a moment, bottom lip poking out his deep thought as he dries his hands on a towel. “Yeah, I think so.”
“And who did you end up choosing?”
“You.”
It shocks you at how fast he answers your question and you grip the shower curtain for support, the slippery floor of the shower almost making you tumblr. He chose you too… is that wrong? You’re uncertain and it makes you feel a little uneasy. Surely there must be a reasonable explanation to why you choose each other instead of fucking other available people.
“Why are you asking me that anyway?”
“Curious,” You answer quickly as you close the curtain to block him out and continue showering, ignoring the way he’s mumbling under his breath how strange you are. “Wait. I have another question.”
“Ask me when you’re down showering.”
“Why?” The tone of your voice turns sultry as you smirk, “Is knowing I’m naked behind this shower curtain turning you on?”
Matt doesn’t answer. Instead, his arm shoots out from behind the curtain, hand curling around the faucet tap to turn the temperature of the water, laughing like a maniac as he hears you scream from the cold water that splashes your skin.
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You hated birthdays.
Actually, you hated your birthday. 
You hated knowing you’re getting older each year, desperately wanting to go back to the ages where all you worried about was not making a fool of yourself in front of someone you had a crush on, or not knowing the biggest high school gossip about who was seeing who behind whoever’s back.
Now, at your growing age, all you worry about is failing college and not being able to get a good enough job to provide a future for yourself.
You wish nobody knew it was your birthday, but having such a close group of groups who knew you better than you knew yourself, it wasn’t going to be easy, and you almost spun around and darted out of campus when you saw Chris twirling a gift bag in hand with helium balloons that spelt out ‘birthday girl!’ in big, bold letters tied to his wrist. 
“There she is!”
You wanted the ground to swallow you up.
“Happy birthday!” Chris yells loudly when you reach their circle, letting your backpack drop to the grass beside Tyler who looks up at you with a dopey smile. Chris shoves the gift bag into your hands when you finally sit down, huffing at the weight of the bag. “I bought you something.”
“I told him not to, I promise,” Nick tells you as he applies chapstick before he leans in close, “But as always, Chris doesn’t fucking listen.”
“And I never will,” Chris grins, untying the strip of balloons from around his wrist to tie them around your own, ignoring the dark glare you give him as he smiles at you cheekily. “Look inside. It’s all the essentials you need.”
“I swear to god, if you—”
“Shh,” He pressed his finger against your lips. “Less talking, more looking.”
You roll your eyes, swatting his finger away from your face before peering into the bag. A soft, genuine laugh leaves your lips when you first see two bottles of your favourite alcoholic beverage and a few chocolates, but you immediately cease all laughter and amusement when you see a pack of condoms and a Plan B box sandwiched between the pair. 
Tyler peeks over your shoulder to drop a pre-rolled joint and a few gummies into the bag for later, but makes a funny noise when he sees the condom pack. He dips his hand inside the bag to pull it out, throwing it back at Chris who fumbles to catch it.
“Hey—”
“She doesn’t use condoms.”
Chris gapes, slowly turning his head towards you with widened eyes. He leans forward, nose brushing against yours as he speaks, “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me?”
Nick yells and covers his ears, threatening to punch his youngest sibling in the throat as Nate and Tyler snort.
“Positive,” You giggle and pat his cheek, causing him to whine and slump back into his own space in defeat. “I’m thankful for the gifts, but please… you know I hate celebrating my birthday. And were the balloons really necessary too? Did you have to make it more obvious?”
Chris frowns, tugging at the string. “But the balloons are pretty.”
“She doesn’t like balloons, kid.”
Your head whizzes around so quickly you’re positive you could hear it crack at the speed, a grin spreading across your cheeks when you see Matt standing behind you looking at your balloons in disgust. But your eyebrows raise in surprise when you see Sadie standing beside him.
You greet her with a wave and she reciprocates, wishing you a quiet happy birthday which you thank her for and motioning for them both to join you in your circle, but Sadie shakes her head with an apology, announcing that she has to be somewhere else.
You watch as she places her hand on Matt’s bicep, asking if they can meet up later but Matt shakes his head, telling her that he already has plans and her face deflates for a moment before nodding, bidding him and the rest of you a goodbye before leaving. 
Matt lets out a huff as he drops down to the grass, stretching out his legs and knocking his foot against yours, mouthing you a quick happy birthday and you smile in gratitude. 
“Sadie seems to be hanging out with you a lot recently,” Nate points out and Nick nods his head in agreement. “You like her?”
Matt shakes his head, “No. She was just asking me if I wanted to do something this weekend.”
“Are you?”
“No,” Matt mindlessly starts plucking the glass, avoiding everyone's eyes as they zone in on him. “I don’t have the time. Got some assignments to finish for my classes.”
Hearing him say that he hasn’t got the time sparks interest in you, and you begin to wonder if Matt would end up asking you for some well needed release. It excites you, especially when you realise you haven’t been under him or on top of him in a few days and you press your thighs together at the thought of possibly getting dicked down sooner rather than later. 
It’s a birthday gift, you say to yourself when you try to give an excuse to why you’re so needy to be fucked by Matt. It’s just a birthday gift… yet, you have Tyler right beside you, someone who’s easily available and someone who used to be frequent in giving you the best birthday sex of your life.
You could ask Tyler to come over tonight, but why wasn’t the question being asked? Why does it feel like you’re stopping yourself from asking something so simple and easy?
Perhaps you’re so used to sleeping around with Matt that it doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone else anymore. Tyler doesn’t seem bothered, maybe because he’s been getting his fix elsewhere too, so why does it bother you?
A quiet call of your name brings you out of your thoughts and you turn your head towards the source, gazing landing on Matt who is looking back at you with a kind smile. 
He shuffles further into the circle to get closer to you, voice dipping low. “Come home with me later? I have something for you.”
“What is it?” You instantly ask back, excitement evident in your tone. Even though you weren’t the biggest fan of celebrating your birthday and receiving gifts, there was no doubt in your mind that Matt was probably one of the best people to receive gifts from, knowing he usually goes above and beyond to give you the most memorable birthday. 
You smile when you remember the three-day spa voucher he gave you last year when he and his brothers had taken you away for the weekend, it was the most breathtaking cabin you had ever been to. The sunset above the lake was still photographed in your memory, so was the midnight drive he took you on when Chris and Nick were sleeping.
The sights were beautiful, and you were grateful to have seen it with your best friend.
“You’ll find out.” Matt tells you with a smile, refusing to give you a hint of any sort as he turns his attention to Nick to engage in a conversation. You pout, shoulders slumping in defeat and Chris knocks his arm against yours, voice teasing as he whispers in your ear;
“Looks like my gifts will come in handy after all—OW!”
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“This is actually fucking ridiculous.” You giggle as you’re blindingly walking into Matt’s dorm, his hands covering your eyes to prevent you from seeing even though you’ve tried countless times to peek through the gaps between his fingers.
Matt’s chest rumbles against your back as he laughs, waiting for you to toe off your shoes at the entrance before leading you further into the room.
You have the layout completely mapped out in your head from the amount of times you’ve been at his place, already knowing that he’s leading you into the kitchen just by the cold marbling that you feel beneath your feet. 
You almost trip as Matt shoves you down onto a chair and whispers a countdown in your ears before he removes his hands from your face. Your vision is blurry for a moment and you try to adjust to your surroundings with a few blinks, jaw dropping in complete awe as the splotches begin to disperse and you see what’s presented in front of you.
“Are you kidding me?” You whisper softly in astonishment at the gifts that are laid out across the table. You spot a few of your favourite scented candles stacked on top of each other, a bottle of perfume that you were one hundred percent certain that was sitting in your wishlist on an online store you were browsing a few days prior, and a miniature bag with the logo of your favourite jewellery store. 
You feel extremely overwhelmed, the urge to cry becoming harder to keep at bay as your eyes water and string, throat tightening over how thoughtful Matt had been. 
You turn your head towards him with your bottom lip quivering and Matt snickers, pulling a party hat from god knows where and advancing closer to you.
“You asshole…” You insult jokingly, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe at your eyes, hoping that the tears wouldn’t dare fall as Matt secures the hat on top of your head. You point to it, “Isn’t this a little cheesy?”
Matt rolls his eyes, snapping the elastic band against your chin for extra measure and you hiss at the slight sting it causes, punching his arm in retaliation but he pays no mind, smiling to himself as he turns his back to you for a moment to open the refrigerator door, pulling out a white squared box.
He balances it on the palm of his hand with ease, using his foot to kick the door shut as he makes his way back to you. 
You’re grinning widely at the thought of what could be inside the box, even though you’ve already guessed it’s a cake. Your hands rub together excitingly as Matt places it on the counter and gently slides it over to you, the box still in his grasp as it stops in front of you, drumming his fingers on the cardboard. 
Sensing your eagerness, Matt lifts the lid off of the box and the excitement on your face drops almost instantly, expressionless as you peek inside to see the miniature spongebob themed cake staring back at you.
You raise your head to see Matt already grinning at you, tongue poking at his cheek as he opens up a drawer to retrieve two plastic forks, twiddling them between his fingers.
You deadpan, “Are you sure we’re not celebrating your birthday right now?”
“Be quiet, you like spongebob just as much as I do,” Matt scoffs as he hands over one of the plastic forks and you take it with a smile. You go to cut out a piece for yourself but freeze when Matt makes a weird noise, gazing up at him in alarm. “Wait. Hold on—my god—let me take a photo first.”
You roll your eyes but happily oblige as Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and angles it towards you. You pose, pointing to the cake with a wide smile, almost blinded by the flash when Matt takes the picture and you immediately rub at your eyes, trying to get rid of the blotches while spitting a few creative curse words that make him giggle.
He quickly takes the opportunity of you being blinded to slide beside you, holding his phone high to take a selfie and you poke out your tongue, using your free hand to cup Matt’s cheeks while he rests his on top of your head. 
Before you have the chance to complain about how hungry you are, you gasp in shock when you feel the coldness of the cake’s frosting rubbed on your cheek and the shutter of the camera goes off when Matt takes another photo, capturing you mid chaos as you dig your fingers into the side of the cake to smush a piece against his own cheek, grinning evilly as the yellow frosting covers his skin. 
“Alright, alright. I deserved that,” Matt sighs with a lighthearted laugh, making sure his phone is tucked away and out of the icing zone. “Makes a good blackmail photo though, don’t you think?”
“If that goes anywhere, I will kill you.”
“You already know that’s going on my Instagram, sweetheart.” Matt teases you and you scoff jokingly, shaking your head as you reach for the napkins that are laying conveniently at the side, trying your best to wipe away the frosting before it drops and stains your clothing. 
Matt manages to clean himself up pretty easily and decides to help you out when he notices you struggling, plucking a spare napkin from the pile and he takes a hold of your jaw, facing your towards him as he gently wipes at your cheek, careful not to rub too hard at your skin. 
You’re suddenly awkward of the close proximity and you grow silent, watching as you cleans you up diligently. The concentrated look on his face is what causes your stomach to whirl and heart bloom with warmth, his eyebrows furrowed and gaze zoned in on the area he needs to clean, tongue licking over his bottom lip.
“Matt…” You call out his name quietly to grab his attention and he pauses, staring right at you. He seems to slowly take notice of how close you both are, taking in the limited space between you both and he goes to remove his hand away from your face but stops himself short with a noise, bringing his hand back to finish the job.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Matt whispers to you once he finally wipes away the frosting from your cheeks, smiling down at you with adoration swirling in his eyes and your breathing gets caught at the back of your throat for a moment at the sudden affectionate gaze, unsure of what to say or even what to do with him looking at you the way he is.
Your hands move up to take the birthday hat off of your head, dropping it to the side carelessly as your arms curl around his shoulders, pulling him into your embrace. Matt’s arms slide around your waist, holding you close to his chest as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crevice of your neck and exhaling deeply.
“I’m so thankful,” You admit, squeezing him tight as the emotions within you struggle to be contained. “For real, Matt. I’m really grateful too… thank you for making this birthday special again.”
“It’s not over yet, you know…” Your hear him mutter in your ear and you go to pull back, to question him on what more he could possibly give to top everything else he’s down for today but he’s already bending his knees, arms falling low to lock around your thighs and throwing you over his shoulder with a huff, smacking his hand roughly against your ass as he carries your giggly self to the bedroom. 
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Friday nights will always be your favourite nights to let loose and party.
Dressing up in your prettiest outfit that makes you feel confident and sexy, decorating your body with the shiniest of jewellery you own and drinking the most intoxicated drink you could find while mingling with your friends.
Talking with your girls face to face after a week of classes had unfailingly lifted your mood, catching up with all the gossip you missed or only briefly discussed over the phone, finally adding your own two cents into situations which they eagerly agree with a nod of their heads, tapping their cups to yours before taking a sip. 
“Speaking of unusual relationships,” Sarah, one of your dearest friends, turns to look at you with a grin, “How's it going with you and Matt? Have things turned awkward yet?”
“Nope,” You shake your head, buzzing happily. “We’re fine. The whole ‘hooking up with your best friend’ culture isn’t as complicated as everyone makes it out to be. Everyone gets dramatic about it for no reason.”
Kendall lets out a heavy sigh, nursing her drink in her hand, “I don’t know how you do it. I can’t even imagine hooking up with Isaac. I mean, he’s attractive, but we’ve seen and know too much about each other to get physical on an intimate level… props to you.”
Anna shifts her gaze to you next, “Do you still fuck Tyler?”
“On occasion,” You admit. “But honestly, I’ve been so wrapped up in assignments—”
“And Matt.”
You give Sarah a smirk, “I haven’t really had the time to call up Tyler and ask him to fuck. He doesn’t mind anyways. He’s been busy smoking and selling weed for some extra cash.”
“What about Matt? Is he still fucking around?”
You pause at that, lips pursing in deep thought before you shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know. I haven’t asked recently if I’m honest.”
Kendall gestures over your shoulder, “Looks like you’re about to find out the answer.”
You crane your neck to follow the direction she’s pointing in, noticing Matt standing near a back wall with a drink in hand, deep in conversation with Sadie who’s smiling, locked on each word he’s speaking to her.
Feeling your eyes on him, Matt looks up to meet your gaze, raising his drink in greeting and you grin, lifting your own cup before he resumes back in conversation.
You take in his appearance with interest; a black fitted tank top paired with some loose fitted jeans and shoes you’re certain he definitely stole from Nick’s closet. The silver chain deer hangs from his neck and silver rings adorn his fingers. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he looks good.
“Take it easy with the lovey dovey eyes,” Sarah teases, nudging your shoulder to bring your attention back to her and you laugh, tipping your head back to finish the contents of your drink. “He does look good though, so I don’t blame you.”
“When was the last time you fucked Matt?” You direct your question towards Anna who shrugs her shoulders in response. 
“I don’t remember,” She smacks her lips together. “Definitely more than two months ago, that’s for sure… No disrespect to you but god, I miss his cock. How he walks around with that thing completely baffles me.”
Kendall’s eyes widened slightly, “Is Matt’s cock big?”
“Yes.”
You and Anna share a knowing smile and high give each other. You drone out the complaints Kendall makes about wanting to fuck someone with a big cock and how Isaac always sets her up with people who are both shitty in bed and lack personality, you being too focused on looking around the room to find a clear path to get more drinks and you dismiss yourself from your girls for a moment as you spot Nick and Tyler pouring vodka into each others cups.
You bound over to your favourite boys, throwing your arms around their shoulders and startling them with your presence, but Tyler hazily smiles you when he sees it’s you and presses a chaste kiss to your temple as Nick hugs you tight in greeting, offering to fill up your cup which you happily give him.
“Where have you been?” Nick asks you as Tyler takes your hand in his to twirl your around, whistling as he eyes your dress. “You look pretty.”
“Catching up with my girls because I spend way too much time with you guys,” You explain, but cheesily grin at the compliment you received on your outfit. Nick hands you your filled drink and you thank him, taking a quick sip as your eyes glance around the room, “Where’s the rest of the guys?”
“Chris is around here somewhere trying to get laid and Nate is talking to this girl he likes from his classes,” Nick informs you before he laughs. “Matt’s been talking with Sadie for the past hour—-sweet girl is trying to make her move.”
“And why aren’t you showing off your charms tonight?”
Nick’s face immediately drops, “Please. I’m done with boys. All they make me feel is absolute regret and disappointment.”
You smile in sympathy, “You’re looking at the wrong guys.”
“No,” Nick shakes his head. “They’re all the same. Everyone of them. Disgusting.”
You loop your arm around his, tugging him into your side, “What if I introduce you to this guy in my class? He’s tall… handsome… sweet…”
Nick eyes you, clearly interested in what you’re telling him and he holds his head high, “Maybe.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Chris!” You greet him happily as he appears beside Tyler, staring at you all with a confused look but grins when you throw yourself into his arms to hug him tightly, swaying you both back and forth. “I thought you were trying to get laid?”
“I was,” Chris sighs as he pulls away from the hug, but keeps an arm wrapped around your middle. “But she has a boyfriend and he’s, like, scary looking and I didn’t feel like getting nightmares for life.”
You frown, patting his shoulder. “What a shame. The dry spell continues for you.”
Chris leans into your touch, batting his eyelashes prettily at you with a smirk, “You can change that for me if you want.”
Nick fake gags behind you as you smile, “In your dreams.”
Chris sighs jokingly, dropping his head low. “Guess I’ll keep on dreaming then.”
“Dreaming about what?”
The sound of Matt’s voice has you spinning around, beaming happily as your eyes meet his but it falters slightly when you notice the fake smile he’s sporting, wanting to question him and ask him what’s wrong but you bite your tongue, not wanting to bring attention to the subject, knowing it’ll make Matt uncomfortable putting him on the spot. 
You reach out and touch his arm, giving him a comforting squeeze which makes him seem to relax, using your grip on him to tug your into his side and for Chris’ arm to slip from your waist.
“Chris is saying weird ass shit about her again,” Nick fills Matt in, wafting the smoke that Tyler blows in his face teasingly when he takes a hit of his joint. “How’s Sadie?”
“Fine,” Matt replies simply, licking at his lips as he turns to you. “Do you want to get out of here? Just me and you?”
Chris immediately takes offence to that, “What about us? What are you going to do without us?!”
Matt goes to answer but Nick immediately raises his hand, silencing him. “Don’t answer that. Just don’t.”
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You’re in complete bliss with Matt holding himself above you, your back is arched, bare chest pressed to his as he nips and licks at your neck, his hips lazily grinding into yours, cock hitting deeper than he’s ever been.
The pace is slow, something that you’re not used to when it comes to Matt, but you don’t find the voice within you to complain, enjoying it a lot more than you’d admit with your fingers tangled in his hair, cries spilling from your lips with your legs hooked over his waist.
He’s grunting in the crevice of your neck with each deep thrust, one hand caressing the side of your face while the other finds a place beside your head, holding up his weight.
You’re whining from the loss of contact when he moves his head away, missing the feeling of his teeth against your skin, the slight stubble scratching your face and you look up at him pleadingly, but he’s frozen as he stares down at you, despite his hips thrusting automatically into you. 
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so pretty…” You barely hear him mumble and your heart pounds against your ribcage at the complement, body feeling more heated and warm.
“Matt—”
He cuts off your words by planting his lips on yours with the most sweetest and softest kiss he’s ever given you, and you melt into the touch, fingers untangling from his hair to cup his cheeks in your palms, gasping through the kiss as Matt's cock cock slowly pulls out of your pussy before pushing back in, sending a shrill up your spine. 
The band in your tummy tightens with each slow but powerful thrust he gives you, thighs shaking around his frame, unable to keep up with his kisses as your mouth falls open with short gasps and whines, white specks flickering in your vision as your feel yourself inching closer and closer over the edge.
“Cum,” Matt whispers, breath fanning over your face as he pants, “Do it. Cum on my cock.”
You wail as the band snaps, orgasm crashing down on you violently. Your body convulses, pussy squeezing around his cock, keeping him buried deep which has him moaning, his own hips stuttering as he cums. You feel him pulse inside you, filling you up with everything he gives.
Matt’s head slumps down on your shoulder as you try to steady your breathing, wincing as you feel him slowly move his hips back to pull his cock out of your sensitive cunt, your hand falling from his face to drop down at your pussy, gathering his cum that pools out onto your fingers.
“I’m sorry,” Matt apologises against your skin, “I’m sorry, I—shit. I should’ve asked if I could—fuck. I got too overwhelmed. I’m sorry.”
“It’s kind of cute that you’re apologising,” You admit, gently pushing him off of your body to sit upright. “But you don’t need to apologise… this isn’t the first time you came inside me, Matt.”
“I know,” Matt runs his fingers through his sweaty hair. “I usually ask...”
“Matt. It’s fine,” You reassured him, placing your palm on his bicep. “I’ll forgive you a thousand times more if you help clean me up though.”
Matt smiles and nods his head as he slips off the bed, disappearing out of the room for a moment and returning with a wet towel. He sits between your parted legs, gently cleaning up the mess, whispering apologies and apologies every time you wince when he presses down on sensitive areas, thighs closing around his hand which he carefully pries open to resume his job. 
You sit in silence, watching him, frowning at the troubled look you see on his face, not used to seeing Matt being so closed off with his feelings and emotions, especially towards you. He hasn’t been open and honest with you in the past few weeks, he hasn’t come to you and asked for your reassurance or help. 
It makes you feel a little bit defeated. 
Something is different, and you struggle to pinpoint what it is.
The questions lay on the tip of your tongue, desperate to be brought to light and asked, and even more desperate to get the answers you’ve been craving. Your relationship with Matt has changed since the proposition you’ve made about sleeping together, but he’s still your best friend.
“What’s going on?” You finally ask and Matt freezes, fingers clutching the wet towel in his grasp tightly. “And please don’t lie to me… I can tell when you’re being truthful or not—”
“What am I to you?” Matt suddenly asks and you’re a little thrown off at your question being answered with his own question. He takes his hand away completely as you blink at him, feeling confused. “Even with all this going on… what am I to you?”
“You’re my best friend?”
Matt seems to frown deeply at that, “So nothing has changed? At all? Even with us sleeping together? I’m still your best friend?”
“Wh—of course!” You’re baffled, assuming that with the way Matt is speaking about your situationship, that he is worried that you have gained some negative feelings towards him. It hurts you, and you’re eager to reassure him, to let him know that everything is okay. “Matt, you’ll always be my best friend. We promised nothing would change, right? I’m keeping that promise.”
Matt closes his eyes as his shoulders sink in defeat, “I…” He drops his head with a sigh. “I can’t do this anymore.”
You bring your knees up to your chest, “Do what?”
“This,” He gestures between the two of you. “I just… I can’t. Not anymore. I can’t continue sleeping with you.”
“Oh.” You swallow thickly, feeling something heavy weighing in your throat. “Why?”
“Things have changed,” His voice is quieter now and it makes your heart shatter at the tone. Does he hate you? “I can’t continue whatever this is and be your best friend at the same time, it has to stop. It—” Matt sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” You mutter as your chin rests on your knees, hugging your legs closer to your chest to cover your modesty. You refuse to even look at him now, finding interest in the sheets below you as your throat tightens up more, feeling sick at the thought of him hating you so much that he can’t even continue sleeping with you. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me, but I—”
“Wait what?”
“—I’m just so sorry. Especially if I came across too forward and for putting you in such a position, I know you were so hesitant about this in the direct place.” You’re babbling now, unable to take control of yourself due to the overwhelming feeling that washed over you. “I’m so fucking sorry, Matt.”
“Wait… I don’t—”
“Can we not tell the others right now?” You raise your head to meet his eyes this time. He’s looking straight at you, confusion and disbelief swimming in his irises but you ignore it, chewing the inner skin of your cheek. “Mostly Nick. I don’t really want to hear him laugh in our faces and give us the whole ‘I told you so’ speech he threatened us with at the start.”
Matt calls out your name and extends his hand to touch you, but you’re already climbing off of the bed, searching around for your underwear and dress that was thrown across the room earlier.
You’re too embarrassed to continue on with the conversation, to ask him what exactly you did to make him grow to hate you so suddenly. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to dwell on it too much, the pain of losing someone like Matt already making your heart ache. 
You just wanted to go home—to be in the comfort of your own bed and curse yourself out, and probably cry to the point you might just forget everything that just happened. You are feeling a little teary, but you wouldn’t dare cry in front of Matt right now. 
“I’ll, uh, see you around or something,” You sniffle, shoving the heels onto your feet and casting one final look his way. “I’m sorry.”
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It’s been almost two weeks since your last encounter with Matt.
You shouldn’t be avoiding him like you are. It’s childish, you know that. But you can’t force yourself to face someone who used to be your best friend and now seemingly hates your guts.
Maybe you should’ve waited a few more minutes, to give him enough time to explain the entire situation and how he was feeling but you were selfish, you didn’t want to hear him explain in full detail what you had done to make him change his feelings towards you so negatively. 
You miss him. Of course you miss him. For years he’s been your best friend—your other half, more like. There was no you without Matt and vice versa. You weren’t exactly sure on how you could continue moving on without Matt by your side, as dramatic as it sounds… but you’ve always been a little dramatic. 
His brothers, Nate and Tyler have been blowing up your phone—-courtesy of you ignoring them too, not wanting to hear Nick rub it in your face on how the ‘friends with benefits bullshit’ you had with Matt actually did go to shit. You also didn’t want to hear the others continuously ask questions about what happened and what had changed. 
Even your roommate, someone who keeps herself out of your business and hardly ever bothers you, had cornered you one morning at breakfast, asking why you looked so glum and why the ‘shirtless and tattooed Boston fuckboy’ wasn’t joining you both anymore.
You’re not the type to let anyone know your worries, so you’re surprised when you find yourself explaining to your roommate about what happened in full detail.
She gave you an unimpressed look, calling you a little stupid for not staying behind and listening despite you letting it be known that you couldn’t bear to listen to why his feelings turned negative towards you. Your face twisted and turned, offended by her harsh words but you allowed yourself to let her talk and not interrupt even though you desperately wanted to.
“You jumped to your own conclusion,” She told you when she was collecting the dishes. “You know, for two close best friends who talk to each other every second of the day, you have some major miscommunication issues.”
So, that’s what leads you to now; you sitting alone in the living room with your phone in hand, staring down at yours and Matt’s chat with your thumb between your teeth, biting down on the skin anxiously as you try to figure out how to start a conversation, to let him know you’re ready to listen.
from you: i think we should talk….
from matt: good because im almost at your house anyway. I had to go get something.
from you: ???? u coming over
from matt: yes from matt: i was going to make you listen to me from matt: its kinda important kid. 
You snort at his message, sending a quick thumbs up emoji before throwing your phone to the side, awaiting his arrival. Your leg nervously shakes in the corner of your vision and your eyebrows knit together, placing your hand down on your knee and squeezing tight.
As if that will stop you from being nervous. 
You’re about to hear the reasoning behind why Matt's feelings had changed for you so negatively, nothing can prepare you for it. 
Just bite the bullet. Take it like a champ.
The rapid knocking on the door rips you out of your thoughts and your head slowly turns with a confused look sketched upon your features. Was that Matt? Matt never knocks—he freely walks in like it’s his own place usually, always making himself at home.
You push yourself up from the couch and make your way towards the front door, taking a peek through the peephole to see Matt’s form, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip with his hands behind his back, swaying back and forth nervously. You grow even more confused and concerned, pulling open your door to face him fully.
“Why did you knock—”
“Hate you?!” Matt suddenly cuts you off with a shout, startling you with the loudness of his tone. His eyes are wide as he stares at you, full of disbelief. “Hate you, I—fuck—how could I hate you?! I’d never hate you… god, you’re so frustrating sometimes.”
Your lips quirk upwards, “Nice to see you too?”
“I don’t hate you. At all. When I told you that things have changed, I didn’t mean anything bad by it… I pretty much meant the opposite…” Matt’s words trail off and before you can even get the chance to ask him to explain exactly what he means, air gets caught at the back of your throat and you struggle to speak as he pulls his hands from behind his back; a bag of candy in one and a handful of ripped up flowers in the other. Your heart thumps rapidly. “I’m going to tell you something and I just… I need you to listen to me.”
You barely whisper, “Okay.”
“Being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as I thought it would be,” Matt tells you, his honesty making you pull your attention away from the gifts in his hands to meet his gaze. “We promised each other that we’re not going to involve any titles to make it complicated for us… yet here I am, standing in front of you with the same candy and flowers in my hand from when we first met, about to confess my fucking feelings to you, I’m so—”
“You’re rambling.” You cut him off, a smile creeping onto your lips.
“Yeah, of course I am,” Matt laughs at himself, shaking his head as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck before he straightens out, keeping his eyes on yours. “I fell for you. Hard. I think I sort of realised it on your birthday but I didn’t want to say anything just in case whatever I was feeling wasn’t what I thought it was… but when we were at that party and I saw you from across the room, talking with your friends, I realised how much I actually do fucking like you and that it wasn’t just my dick talking.”
You snort as you repeat, “Dick talking.”
“Shut up,” Matt smiles at you, his own laugh fleeting past his lips before he sighs, “I like you. I’m falling in love with you, and I get it if you want to reject me because of how fucking weird this whole thing turned out… but I would actually like to continue being with you, not just as a best friend but as your boyfriend.”
You’re too busy repeating his confession in your head to notice that Matt is waiting for an answer, bottom lips tucked between his teeth as he bites down nervously, visibly shaking out of excitement or fear due to the fact he just confessed his entire feelings—you weren’t sure which one was right.
The silence from you kills Matt and his face drops when you step forward to quietly take the flowers and candies out of his hands, taking a step back inside your house. His shoulders slump in defeat, taking your nonverbal response as a rejection to his proposal of him being your boyfriend.
He goes to turn around, to get the fuck off your doorstep and drive home, hoping that the intense embarrassment he feels coursing through his veins is enough to make him disappear.
But he freezes mid escape when he hears the rustling of you ripping open the pack of candies, spinning around to see you looking at him with the prettiest smile.
He watches, heart thumping wildly, stomach fluttering with nervousness and excitement as you extend your arm out, angling the bag in his direction and a grin spreads across his face, unable to control the happiness that bursts from within.
You’re giving him a treat, you’ve giving him a relationship.
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©sturnioz
3K notes · View notes
cake-writes · 1 year ago
Text
Just This Once
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Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader
Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.
Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On
Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.  
You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night. 
So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were gone? Why does he want to do anything for you? 
Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication. 
You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.  
What the hell is he doing?  
He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.  
It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way. 
“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one particular letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.” 
Your birth control must be overdue, then.  
“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.  
He should have known then that he was getting too attached. 
Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way. 
As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.  
He could get you pregnant. 
A jolt of arousal shoots through him.
Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…  
His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.  
Kakashi swears.
You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.  
He’s already too attached. 
Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone. 
His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.  
What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.  
Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.  
The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.  
The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock.
“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. 
“Mm. Do you want me to?” 
His question hangs heavy in the air. The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.  
You want to say no, he realises.  
He wants you to say no. 
“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk. 
Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership. 
His.  
Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do. He agrees.
“Just this once.”  
Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there's never been a risk.
Your coy little smile prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth. 
He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go. 
As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat. He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well. 
To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the silky skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl. 
“More than okay,” you sigh. 
As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.  
He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.  
“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”  
So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.  
He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?
He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste. 
Later. 
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?” 
Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows. 
He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go. 
Kakashi doesn't want to think about that. He just wants to enjoy what little time with you he has left.
“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you. 
“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate your vulnerability.
It’s selfish, he knows. 
The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take. 
He wants it to take. 
Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.  
“Close?”  
Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.  
He stamps it down. “I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?” 
When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I—shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”  
“Really?” 
To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.  
It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form. “Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily. 
His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”  
Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.
Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.  
“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—” 
“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.”
He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.
You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.  
Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal that he’s always refused to name. He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something.
He wants them to mean that you’re his. 
He’s too attached. 
To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he drives his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.  
It won't last long. He’s too worked up. 
Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass. 
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—” 
“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.
When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.  
“I want it inside,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.  
His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up— 
“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off. 
If he moves right now, he’s done for.  
When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.  
You finish first. Always. 
“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.  
Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss against your cheek, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”  
“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy. 
Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”  
Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple— 
“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time. 
No more teasing. You want him to be nice.
You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you. 
“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—” 
Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.” 
Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight. 
His jaw tenses at the reminder. 
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?” 
Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves. 
No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen. 
And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee. 
Get her there, then pull out. 
Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch. 
A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon. 
“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—” 
Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now— 
He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall. 
Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it. 
“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—” 
He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth, and still, he recites his mantra. 
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then—  
You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips. 
Watching your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced. “Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—” 
“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want. 
The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own as you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.  
He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry. 
Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white.
It feels good. It feels right. 
He’s too attached. 
He doesn’t care. 
As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits. 
Why the hell did he do that?  
What the hell did he do?
Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.  
He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.  
Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.  
“Did I—Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?” 
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep, hit your cervix too hard. 
“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.” 
Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.  
His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?” 
You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.” 
Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur. 
They’re happy tears, you said. 
You’re happy with him. 
He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go. 
You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”  
Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.  
“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck. 
You laugh and gently cup the side of his face, turning him back towards you. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”  
That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.  
“Sorry,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight. 
He wants to do it again.
He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane. 
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came. 
It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine? 
“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”  
Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 
He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m fine.” 
When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.  
“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.” 
You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.  
It’s cute. You’re cute. 
“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.  
“What?” 
This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Aren’t you upset?” 
“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this about my birth control?”  
“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”  
You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!” 
Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then. 
Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot. 
“That’s so bad! What if you got me pregnant?” 
A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.  
You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?” 
“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real.  “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”  
And how the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate. 
But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d get the hell out of dodge as fast as he could. 
A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed. 
“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his bare shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.” 
Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”  
And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back. “Because,” he rasps.  
The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t meet your gaze. He’s too embarrassed. 
“Because why?” you hum. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?” 
A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads. 
“Hm? Why not?” 
To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.” 
“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. I wonder why?” 
The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.
Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation. 
He likes that you understand him as well as you do. 
He likes you.
“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached. 
-
Snippet #1:
“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you pointedly.
“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. Ish. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.” 
While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.  “What if I don’t want to be careful?”  
He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?” 
“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself, hard and insistent against your ass. “You tell me.” 
-
Snippet #2:
Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.” 
You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?” 
He lifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye. 
You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing it is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.” 
He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission. 
Looks like you’re on the same page, then. 
Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home. 
That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—” 
“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused. 
 You worry your lip between your teeth and nod. 
“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.” 
Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?” 
Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—” 
When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.  
A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)
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preqwells · 4 months ago
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downtime | logan howlett x reader
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summary: logan had been meaning to show you the wooden cabin he'd visit when given the time— he didn't anticipate how enraptured he'd be with the the absence of chaos in his life
cw: slightly suggestive
domesticity looked good on logan in your eyes.
chopping wood for the fire you two would burn at night, making sure the weeds didn't interfere with the tomatoes you had been growing, and sometimes even fishing despite his lack of patience for it. his jeans hung low around his waist, hair speckled across his chest through his open-collared shirt—you had to admit, you liked this side of him. you two had decided you wanted to get away for a while since logan wasn't particularly needed at the moment. he had been wanting to show you the cabin he frequented when he wasn’t busy, daydreaming to himself with the thought of what your reaction would be to it. you weren't surprised at the nature of the wooden cabin. it was secluded and neatly tucked away in a corner of a vast forest that no one would dare to enter unless they were in for a rude awakening. maybe you were kidding yourself with the idea that you two might be able to go off-grid for a while, but it was a thought you both were willing to entertain.
you smiled to yourself as your eyes tore away from the much-welcomed sight of your boyfriend leaning back on the couch, hulking thighs spread as his head lolled back. your attention trailed back to the deer he had caught earlier in hopes you could do something with it. "should i slow-cook it? maybe even make it into a pot roast?" you suddenly spoke up from the kitchen, your lips pursed in thought as a lighthearted scoff left him, his eyebrow quirking up for a moment. "askin' the wrong person. never been known to be much of a chef, sweetheart." he gruffed out, too tired to allow his eyes to roll into the back of his head at the thought of even picking up on anything remotely related to cooking. "mm, you're right," you said through a small chuckle, your eyes still examining the raw meat, "could always just set up the grill out back. chop it up, make 'em into kebabs… but we don't have any skewers. if only there was something that we could use…" you playfully trailed off as you pressed your index finger to your lower lip as if conjuring a thought. logan quickly caught onto the fact that you were talking about using his claws as kebab skewers to which he shook his head in response, shooting you an amused glance.
he rose to his feet, floorboards groaning under his weight with each movement. "ha-ha, you're hilarious. damn near a comedian." he retorted as he made his way to you, placing his empty beer bottle on the counter before his arms wrapped around you, giving you a small squeeze. his front pressed to your back, your heart fluttering at the sudden contact. the contours of his muscles molded into your frame nicely, warmth emanating from him as his breath fanned against the nape of your neck. "well… i was thinking about signing up for the local comedy club. could be my big breakthrough, y'know?" you sighed in faux contemplation as you felt the softness of his lips pepper kisses from your nape to your pulse-point, his hands lingering on your waist. his thumbs found the belt loops in your jeans, tugging on them absentmindedly. "y'right, bet the squirrels and mornin' birds would love to hear the material you been practicin' on me." he murmured into your skin, eyes fluttering shut as he deeply inhaled your scent. seeing as how sensitive he was to scents, there were lots of scents he couldn't stand. hated the smell of gasoline, hated any kind of gaudy perfume— if he thought about it for too long, his nose would probably scrunch up out of disgust. yet he was particularly fond of your scent, fresh linen and cotton. your scent was as pleasing as your personality. you were good for logan. kind, compassionate— you smoothed out his rough edges. god knew he had too many.
domesticity looked good on you in logan's eyes. the wood you'd carry to the fire pit for your late-night chats recounting the events of the day, the tomatoes you'd complain about that wouldn't ripen and sometimes even fall off too early from local wildlife taking their swipes at it, and your insistence on him learning some proper patience for fishing since you still had a taste for wild-caught salmon. his hands found the hem of your flannel, sliding under the fabric as his fingertips grazed the softness of your skin, traveling down past your navel. warmth flooded your cheeks as a sheepish smile played at the corners of your lips, your hands on the counter to brace yourself. "logan— logan! i still have to marinate the meat." you hastily whispered before a breathy moan escaped you as his tongue rolled over your skin, teeth nipping at the crook of your neck. "mmm, don't worry 'bout it." he spoke into your neck before gently lifting you onto the counter, his eyes filled with affection. he didn't know how it happened, honestly. couldn't pinpoint it even if he tried to recall what you did that caused him to be so smitten with you. he quietly admired you for a few moments, taking in how hues of orange from the sun setting filtered through the window and cascaded onto the side of your face, his hand raising to cup the swell of your cheek. you didn't know it, but logan had made a quiet vow to himself to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe, in this life and the next.
he'd show you tonight how much he adored you, in more ways than just one.
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vampireistic · 26 days ago
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failed replaced!MC AU
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ཐི synopsis: diavolo has sent down a brand new human exchange student! one that, unfortunately, seems to be very keen on stealing all the limelight for themselves…with such pathetic results it’s almost endearing.
ཐི feat. demon bros
ཐི warnings: mentions of blood/injury, second person
ཐི a/n: yanked this idea from @squeakyducky ! ٩( ᐛ )و named the human exchange student “notus” after the greek god of the south wind because in the comic the MC is called “zephyr” after the god of the west wind (not directly in opposition of one another in mythology but i thought it would be fitting). + also this is kinda long…(;_;)
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You weren’t upset about having a new human exchange student, no-one really was, but just the gut feeling that Diavolo was going to throw you in as their guide was really starting to irk you (having to deal with several argumentative debate-lords thirsty for your attention doesn’t give you much energy to deal with newbies).
Who knew though? Maybe this was exactly what you needed; a break from all the fantasy in the world for a touch of realism. A touch of home.
However, soon as that portal twinkled to reveal a rather attractive human figure bursting with confidence, your latent arcane abilities smelled trouble. But then again, you were rarely right about first glance opinions on people, maybe this was just another instance?
Ok, well, when you tried going up to introduce yourself you were met with a glare so maybe you weren’t so wrong after all. Benefit of the doubt, you repeat to yourself. You remember being particularly snappy to people within your first arrival - it’s natural instinct! I mean the brother’s also threatened to eat you on the first day here, perhaps they’re just naturally standoffish.
“This is Notus, our newest human exchange student! Please be sure to give them a warm welcome.” Diavolo’s voice boomed across the council hall, eyes gleaming with excitement. Like the first time, the brothers introduce themselves one by one, each a little more on edge than the last - maybe they felt that weird energy too?
Whatever, you pushed those thoughts aside for the time being and took on the role as the newest babysitter for a human that seemed to have a much unnecessary distance while walking next to you.
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It started off fine:
Occasional misplacement of your items; an untied shoelace that makes you trip (with Mammon getting a heart attack as he pulls you up by your wrist); messing up an elixir you were sure that you measured correctly; and opening your bag to find your homework gone.
Childish antics that you tried your best to push blame onto either your own forgetfulness or a misplaced prank that was meant to mess with Lucifer. But somehow, it got so much worse - and that little demonic human decided to finally take fault of their pranks by flaunting it off with pride.
“Oh, MC?” Notus caught your attention with a double tap on your shoulder. “Did you enjoy the nature reserve?” Mammon tilted his head to the side, confusion scrunching his face as he looked over at you.
“It was really lame, Thirteen would’ve done better.” Of course you were not referring to an actual excursion, no, you mean the wild animals that had magically found themselves a snuggly home in your bed as well as the plethora of Devildom-specific deadly mushrooms and herbs that replaced your old plant pots.
“Hah? What are you two yappin’ about?” Mammon huffed, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t part of this big secret that you two seemed to share. Notus smugly cuddled up to him, arms wrapping around his bicep a little too tight. “Oh it’s nothing! Just a little…gift, I got MC as a thank you for being such a great guide!”
“Oi! How come I never got anythin’ from ya when I had to babysit?” His brows furrow as he clearly attempts to, rather nicely, shrug off the unwanted attention. This is the first time you’ve seen Mammon look so visibly uncomfortable - clearly oblivious to such a fact, Notus continued snuggling themselves closer, trailing their fingers up and down Mammon’s arm.
Of course, you ended up telling all of this Lucifer, to which he implemented a special spell on your lock so no sneaky human that’s barely acquainted with magic could unlock, with the reassurance that if these “pranks” and unwanted behaviours escalate, it would be taken to Lord Diavolo directly.
──────────────────────
Mammon was an obvious first victim for this weird power trip of a game - he’s as kind as a lamb and just the teeniest bit dumb (lovingly so, you reassure him) - but somehow the antics got more assertive and the targets much more hazardous. Satan. Honestly at this point, all you could feel was pity as you sat in the living room, nose buried in a book that Solomon had instructed you to study.
Notus had lived alongside you for a little over two weeks now, and while those small pranks continued, this is the first time you’ve seen them take on an “opponent” that would be way too much to chew. Sliding onto the couch with a careless saunter, Notus cozied themselves up into a cushion right near Satan’s arm, their breath basically ghosting over his neck. His face twitched.
“What?” Satan scowled, a face you haven’t seen in a while crunching his usually stoic expression to a frown.
“Sataan, can you please help me study? I’m struggling in Seductive Speechcraft and need a bit of…” their hand awkwardly inches closer to his hair, “guidance.”
“Go find a book or ask your lecturer.” He aids somewhat clamly, before that mask slips off momentarily to threaten them: “Don’t bother me, you’ll regret it.”
Well, that ended quicker than you expected. Guess even the ever so bold exchange student cowers at the icy glare from the Avatar of Wrath? You can’t help but giggle from where you sat, to which Notus immediately looks up for, facing twisted in an ugly scowl.
──────────────────────
After the failure that didn’t even really begin that was the day before, Notus went for someone much more gullible and easy to please. The favourite orange-haired glutton. Offering him a massive, drool-worthy sponge cake from the human world that they swear, “MC asked me to deliver!” He wasted no time in scarfing down the citric frosting soon as that familiar melodic sound of your name hit his ears.
Beelzebub isn’t known to be someone who’s reluctant to not eat things - unless it’s Mammon’s or Solomon’s sacrilegious cooking - but in this case he wished he could control himself when it came to things that look and smelt promising. Because soon as that icing coated his tongue, his belly grumbled with a heinous rage. Not one born from hunger, no, but rather nausea. Thankfully, Beel’s a big dude who can handle pretty much anything, so it’s not like whatever poison or foul-tasting potion that was slipped between the buttercream did him any damage (apart from ruining his mood), but nonetheless, he felt horrible and got a lengthy scolding from Belphie to boot.
He doesn’t blame you, you might’ve just messed up somewhere and that’s ok! Beel sets the rest of the cake aside with a little warning label that it made him feel ill and if it did him, it could probably kill anyone else, before scurrying off to find an actual bite to eat. Guilt did gnaw at him for a while because, normally, he’s easily able to eat anything you make since you make it with so much love! But Beel can also recognise foul play when he sees it and also comfortably assess that the icing used wasn’t mixed in the way you do it.
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These little instances stopped for a while, which made you foolishly believe that perhaps they learnt their lesson and decided to turn in for the better. Notus manages to surprise you once again - instead of targeting the brothers, the attention comes back to you. The original plan was; conjure up a curse on your pillow that forces you to have perpetual nightmares, which henceforth makes you irritable and hopefully slip up in front of the brothers, preferably make you so grouchy that you say something irredeemable.
What factor Notus failed to account for is the fact the brothers also LOVE your room, and a person who specifically loves stealing shit from you is Belphegor, who so unfortunately kidnapped that one pillow ridden with a curse while stumbling into your room with a drowsy head.
The House of Lamentation isn’t known for being quiet, so the bickering downstairs over breakfast overwhelmed the space per usual, but soon as those thumps of heavy footsteps echoed down the flight of stairs connected to the twin’s room - the house went eerily silent. An overly irritated Belphie ghosts into the room with darker eyebags than normal, his face hauntingly pale with a vein popping from his forehead, body limply dragging itself.
Notus felt the hairs on the back of their neck stand up as Belphie saunters behind them, looming over like an owl would a mouse before growling: “Do you always ruin the things you touch, or is this a hobby?” Belphie may be the youngest and therefore the weakest, but when it comes to anything dream and curse related, he will know exactly who’s behind it. And if you hadn’t taught him the slightest bit of mercy, he was sure Notus’ skin would serve Asmodeus as a nice handbag.
──────────────────────
Speaking of the jewel Asmodeus, Notus’ technique was much more…social sabotage based. Spreading a vile rumor around RAD that you made a disparaging comment about Asmodeus’ character was a sure fire way to get some sort of hate train going. Rumours spread fast around RAD, especially when concerning one of the Devildom’s most infamous partygoers, after all - and the drama was sure to escalate when the oddly beloved MC was involved. Notus devilishly giggled to themselves, before knocking on Asmodeus’ room, hands clasped together in faux prayer.
The door swings open to reveal Asmo adorned with silver jewellery that coiled together like moonlight kissed webs, earrings curling into shiny heart shaped crystals that he seemed to still be putting in. With a raise of a brow he smiled politely: “Yes, hon?”
“I saw the awful things MC said about you! I’m so sorry…you must be going through so much pain,” Notus sniffles, that drama class they took back in Year 9 really paying off for once. “If it’s any consolation I think you’re amazing…I mean even all your jewellery know looks like it was practically designed with your image in mind, it’s so glorious!”
Guess they took Satan’s advice after all.
Asmo is kind. Somewhat - ish…But not when it comes to people that use cheap tricks against his beloveds. Sure, the flattery was great, but appreciation is always better when it’s genuine and sincere, specifically your praise was something his vain heart sought afer. “Aw dear,” Asmodeus cooed, hands cupping Notus’ face gently, an act that makes them smile a little unnervingly. “If you knew me at all you’d know I designed these, quite recently in fact.”
Shit.
Notus felt their face heat up in embarrassment, hands suddenly clammy with sweat. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t feel so great to be caught in a scorpion’s tail. “Sweetie,” he laughs, patting Notus’s shoulder with mock sympathy. “You could never turn me against MC. They’re real, and you’re just…trying too hard, aren’t you?”
The grip on Notus’ face suddenly tightens, that orange hue in Asmodeus’ eyes tinting a more saturated shade. “Feel free to say whatever you wish about me, but utter another word about my MC, and I’ll drain your marrow and leave your bones bare of sinews.”
A not so nice reminder that bloodlust is still a form of lust.
That backfired spectacularly. Instead of you getting bombarded with hate and being shred apart in anything you posted, it was the newest exchange student that was the prime highlight of what desperation and pathetic self-esteem looked like. Comments ranged from anything like:
“Lord…this is just embarrassing for them lol”
“thanks for the tutorial on social suicide <3”
“an attempt was made…but it should’ve been with a rope.”
Much to you and the brother’s greatest dismay, the forum that was freely spouting random comments about the situation was gradually shut down under Diavolo’s leadership. He did find it the teeniest bit funny though…
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In naming pathetic self-esteem, a particular water dweller comes to mind: Leviathan. He was going to be a tricky one to lure (said in a hopeful manner as if the others weren’t total failures). Not particularly because he’s the third oldest, making his raw power single-handedly capable of wiping Notus away from existence. No, it was the depressing fact that he’s a recluse that seethes to himself whenever you giggle at a joke someone other than him has made.
Although, they did manage to misuse his social awkwardness to their advantage - by acting shy and nervous as they sweetly ask if they can also join the gaming session with you and him. Levi chose a multiplayer dungeon crawler, the kind where cooperation is key — and where you certainly have excelled before. Notus, however, had other plans.
Small, inconsequential mistakes didn’t bother Levi too much…you and him were good enough for the time being, but by level, these “mistakes” of theirs just spiralled uncontrollably. Taking up important loot meant for you, and even using rare healing potions on themselves at the wrong time, leaving your character on the brink of death.
“Oh no!” Notus gasped, hand to their mouth. “I didn’t mean to—uh, sorry, Levi! I guess I’m just not used to such a complicated game.” They glanced slyly at you, a smug grin creeping onto their face.
Levi frowned, his tail twitching with irritation. “It’s not that complicated,” he muttered. “You just...have to listen.” You don’t even remember when he switched into his demon form, but you can somewhat presume it was around the second the first whine gasped from their lips.
Despite their blunders, Notus managed to turn the situation into a chance for attention, constantly praising Levi in exaggerated tones. “Wow, Levi, you’re so good at this game! I mean, you basically carried us, right?” They laughed, shooting another smug glance your way. “MC must feel so lucky to have someone like you showing them the ropes.”

Levi blinked, looking between Notus and you. His face flushed, but not in the usual embarrassed way—it was frustration. “What are you even talking about?” he snapped. “MC doesn’t need me to ‘carry’ them. They’re actually good at this!”
Notus tried to backtrack, laughing nervously. “Oh, sure, sure! I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”
“Just stop.” Levi's voice was uncharacteristically firm. His eyes darted to you, softening. “MC doesn’t need someone like you pointing out their skills. They’ve already proven themselves. Unlike, uh, certain people who don’t even know how to play.”
The match ended shortly after, with Levi muttering about how “toxic noobs ruin games.” He didn’t invite Notus back for another session.
──────────────────────
Lucifer’s patience had worn thinner than a threadbare string. The complaints from his brothers about Notus's antics had escalated from minor annoyances to full-blown disruptions of their routines. Asmodeus couldn’t walk down the hallway without Notus latching on to him, Leviathan’s game nights had been interrupted by bizarre "accidental" server crashes, and even Belphegor muttered in frustration about charms slipping into his blankets to make him "dream of Notus."
Through it all, you have endured the worst of it — every petty prank, sabotage attempt, and unwelcome spell aimed at undermining your place in the Devildom. You’ve handled it with your usual grace, brushing off bruised egos and minor inconveniences with an easy smile. But this time, Notus had gone too far.
Self efficacy is quite the funny theory - the more you believe in yourself, the more likely you are to succeed. The more successes you have, the better your confidence. So how come even without that, Notus seemed to be as determined as ever to ruin your mood?
The prank seemed harmless at first—a minor tripwire spell meant to tangle your legs and leave you stumbling in embarrassment. But Notus, in their reckless desperation to make you look bad, underestimated the strength of the curse. When the trap activated, you didn’t just trip - you were violently flung forward, crashing into a jagged edge of a chair (there’s too many of them in the House of Lamentation as you just got to personally establish).
The sound of breaking wood reverberated through the house. You hit the floor hard, crimson spilling from a deep gash on your arm where wood had pierced skin. Placing your fingertips on the gush of blood pooling around the scratches, your hands webbed with red iron.
Lucifer arrived almost immediately, his presence a storm brewing in the hall. His brothers, frozen in stunned silence, stood back as he knelt to examine you. His gloved hands trembled faintly as he carefully removed the shards and inspected the various wounds that differentiated in size and depth.
Notus tried to deflect, stammering about how it was just a joke gone wrong, their confidence cracking under Lucifer’s piercing glare. “I-I didn’t mean for it to—MC is just so dramatic, they—”
“Silence.”
Lucifer’s single word was sharper than a blade, and the room fell into an oppressive silence. His wings, usually tucked away, unfurled slightly — a stark warning of the fury he struggled to contain. He rose to his full height, towering over Notus, his face a mask of cold fury.
“You’ve been a disruption from the moment you arrived, but this? This is beyond forgiveness.”
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Notus didn’t learn their lesson, of course. Their jealousy burned too brightly to let them stop. But this time, you’ve sincerely had had enough, and with Thirteen’s help, you concocted a poetic dose of karmic justice mingled with a touch of the classics.
Diavolo was long informed of the incident involving you previously, and further filled in on all the previous attempts of ruining both your reputation and relationship with your family. A little meeting in the RAD council room was in due order - one which all of the affected were invited for a silly show.
Lucifer stood impatiently next to a stone-faced Diavolo. You would find it slightly threatening if you didn’t know what was going to happen in just a few moments. Thirteen sat next to you, swinging back and forth on a chair as she grinned at you with every wavering gaze at one another.
And like moth to a flame, blazing with both frustration and smugness, Notus strolled on in. Well, I say stroll - I mean struggle with opening the door before they accidentally put too much pressure on the handle, leading to the doors gushing open with a far swing, and the buckets utop the bar to drop down like catharsis.
A greedy sorcerer from sorcerer’s society that just so happened to notice you when you came in one day with a few of the brother’s and Solomon the Wise himself - Notus couldn’t bare the idea that a little thing like you could swoop in and charm them so easily.
Now covered in a disgusting, webbed display of pig’s blood and some sticky consistency of water mixed with honey, Notus simply stands there, allowing defeat to settle in while the crescendo of giggles cuts deep into their pride.
“Alright alright, I’ve got enough of a laugh out of this,” you clap your hands, whispering an incantation that forces a gush of water to rain down upon them, washing away the weird concoction that coated their skin.
“Aw what, that’s no fun lol.” Leviathan pouts in the background.
“Whaaat!! What a bore…” Mammon grumbled to himself, looking away from the sopping wet dog once his eyes accidentally caught theirs.
“MC…” Notus sniffled pitifully, looking up at you through tear-stained lashes.
“Yes yes, I know,” you sigh, hands on your hips as you try your best to articulate your reasoning for this baseless morality. “This isn’t forgiveness or anything, the stuff you’ve done warrants actual apologies but hey, I’ve had a few of the demons in here attempt to kill me before,” Belphegor coincidentally looks away, “a few jabs at my reputation with failing results was honestly a little funny.”
Notus’ eyes glimmer with shiny stars and fat blobs of tears as they murmured a very simple:
“Fmnf…I love you.”
“…”
“Huh?”
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